Longing San Diego Love

Can I fast forward to when life gets good?

Where we walk the beach hand in hand

cheek to cheek, talking and walking

as if there was never a time where we were strangers?

Can I fast forward to when life gets good?

Where we whisper quietly among ourselves 

In galleries, concerts, and between the sheets?

As if we'd lived as one many lifetimes just like this?

Can I fast forward to when life gets good?

Where we both know without words

We love one another naked and raw

As if the darkness within us was always part of our lovable whole?

Can I fast forward to when life gets good?

Where you finally realize I see the whole you too?

That you've loved me all along

As if fear and doubt had never been in the way?

Can I fast forward to when life gets good?

Where our hearts no longer long and break

For time and distance brought us here, together

As if we'd been here to be found all along?

"I'm like your victim and all that you need is an alibi..."

Today I found myself a nasty cocktail of emotions swimming in the toxicity of the hormonal Red Nile. I am frustrated with my body's inability to get along with my birth control to make an already terrible experience better. Top this with the exhaustion of treading in the sea of debt and the continuous stream of self doubt. My thesis haunts my evenings. I cannot determine which part of my thesis is the most aggravating: all the road blocks to finishing my thesis or the fact my thesis is negatively affecting my classwork.

I want to search for jobs but I fear I will end up in a mental hospital (I can't afford) before I come close to finishing my thesis and accept a job offer. I keep wondering if I am just inept, or my project truly sucks. Between an ex boyfriend and my thesis I fear my confidence is rather wreaked.

Most cocktails contain alcohol. Generally, I'd say that people in my life act like alcohol... a way to make life a little better and bearable. I'm grasping for straws and coming up empty; my cocktail is a virgin. My parents are of little use. I've grown accustomed to their assistance to not be worth the trouble and harassment and talking about my problems with them only seem to intensify my hatred of their piss poor parenting. The last thing I need is their little lectures and their mask of artificial concern. I dare not put more stress on my baby sister... she also has her own set of stresses and my brother is in his own walk in life that is far removed from my current situation.

I wish I had been able to have as actively involved friends as I had in my undergrad. Yet, most of those friends I have found decided to skip this "grad school" stop and have moved onto other stops that I cannot even begin to relate to. It is an alienating feeling to watch everyone around you marry and being to bear offspring. My peers and friends here are several degrees more removed than the friends I am accustomed to having, but I suppose this is part of "growing up".

My companion has his moments, but generates his own form of emotional chaos and stress in my life. Just yesterday I sacrificed a whole afternoon and evening towards homework to assisting in the repair of his transportation. I was met with continuous negativity (rightly so as the maintenance on this car is absurd). Any attempt to draw some positivism in his life was shot down. I just kept thinking "Well, I'm here and I thought I was making things a little better." I have begun to wonder if I am merely a necessary pawn caught in emotional servitude and if my eventual departure will mean any more than a loss of my services. I am willing to bend over backwards to make his life a little brighter, but I feel my efforts continuously go unnoticed. I get angry at myself wondering if I have merely been a fool all along. I feel next time I'm in a sour mood and he insults my driving I'll ask him to get out of the car and walk to his destination. To think, I actually cry at the thought of moving away from him.... in ways it is absurd and laughable.

I know (with growing doubt) that these things too will pass. I try to look to the future as a bright beacon of hope only to have the lighthouse shadowed with growing depression and eventual loneliness. For now I just I find myself awake and frustrated in the wee hours of the next morning.

"Fool in the Rain"

As the new year approaches, I cannot help but process the past year. I have changed, grown, and lie in a small sea of hope and confusion. The construction of this post in and of itself leaves me scrambling to determine the best way to capture the blizzard of though in my beautiful mind. I've only Led Zeppelin to focus my thoughts with.

I recently finished a non-fiction novel by Erik Larson titled, "In the Garden of the Beast". The novel was alarming in many ways. First, the perception of Jews by both Germany, the American people and much of the western world was not as I expected. Growing up in the Midwest I have little "experience" with the Jewish culture. Secondly, the sheer lewdness of one of the central characters alarmed me. I have grown up thinking as a culture we are becoming more and more devious... but it now appears that over the course of history this deviousness has always existed. We today are just finding it harder to sweep under the rug to be found another day. 

We grow up believing (brainwashed or not) that there exists one soul out there for which we should fall in love, marry and have a bazillion glorious babies. The last part is a clear exaggeration, whereas the first half has been challenged by the same novel. The lewd character, Martha Dodd, suggested she had multiple loves of her life. This naturally caused a lot of heartache among her lovers. I began to think upon my own life of "the loves of my life". I have only opened up my full soul to one man and loved him so dearly that his blatant  departure from my life was not-so-secretly agonizing. I still love him, but I also greatly dislike him. 

Then there is the current companion in my life. He has been a steadfast companion for just over a year now. The whole thing amounts to one of the strangest relationships of my life. There is a sense of constant hesitation, but a sweet underlying and unspoken comprehension. His extreme introvertism makes him an exceptional humdrum individual. Yet his mystique makes the little company he allots me insatiable. He has never caused me to be filled with the giddiness and butterflies of young love. He instead ignites the existing passions within myself, as if he knows the keys of my primary motivators. I ache for the things I love, and he merely intensifies this internal desire. In many ways he is so unnecessary in my life but incredibly significant. He is a primary clog within my internal clockwork. He in no way completes my soul, he is merely my complement. I love him, not with the drunkenness of romance and courting, but soberly. To love him not only is sound, but logical. He has challenged my duplicity of thought and action. I have grown to think and calculate more. I assess what I really want and move to not just speak but act.

The question to the next year will be if I ever confess my unflattering love and if this great awakening is to last past this temporal arena of here and now. I know I'd be more than pleased with his lasting presence. His lack of emotional expression makes me uneasy at times, but everyday I see small embers of devotion and love. Whether they exist or not is still untold.

Then there is the vast uncertainty of my financial stability. I reside in a bunker of debt with the floods of interest rates rising. It is only a matter of time before the "impending doom" no longer simply lingers but actively threatens my financial security. December has already proved to be a bad month for my checking account. I worry about being jobless, I stress about the crawling economic situation and I wonder how the coming elections will ultimately "screw me over". 

Jobs. The idea is terrifying. The rigidness of the 9-5 both appeals and frightens me. The scheduleness will focus my attention and resources. I will ultimately feel more balanced at the cost of my existent free spirit. I fear the days of staying home with a migraine or severe depression oversleeps won't cut it. I loath the thought of being clueless as to my duties or having little to nothing to occupy my work hours. I already feel the anxiety of the "what if's". 

There also exists the inner turmoil I feel with my family. At times it seems my relationship with my parents gets better. Other times the insignificant interest within my family towards me seems all too apparent. I am no longer a favored favorite. I am in ways the grey sheep. Accepted but somewhat dismissed.

People change over time. My recently married sister is not much different. Our relationship is always changing, for the better? I'm not sure. It isn't getting any worse. I know she misses me, and I do her, but the immediacy of our future togetherness is not a deep pang signalling me to go here and now.

Shortly, I will get to meet part of my extended family, aka my brother's new family. A full assessment has yet to be conducted by my overly cautious self.  I am not as naive as I once was. My brother too, I'm sure has changed. I am curious to see in what manner that five years time has done.

Family. Ah family. How terrible, yet how enduring connection of good will last.

Lastly, I have a host of friends in the past year who have gone off and married. A select few have decided to extend their families in the most natural of methods through offspring. I find myself in a daze. Perhaps this is the part of my life that remains the most confusing. With marriages, I must grow to "like" people my friends cleave themselves with. Luckily, I have yet to have a friend marry someone I hate. (Praise God!) However, marriages tend to cause good friends to drift slightly. The closeness fades, but the worth remains with some. The choking reality is the decreasing availability of human resources, while the desire for sharing and closeness remains, the opportunities die off. The old topics subside in conversation and new ones emerge, ones I am less able to understand and relate to. These things are merely a cause of concern as I have yet to figure out where my NEW place lies within these established relationships.

The new year will bring with it answers, questions, and more growth. While I am uneasy and hesitant, I trust in the end everything will be a-okay. I can merely hang on for the ride.

 I like the title. Over the past year I have gained a growing appreciation for Led Zeppelin. To go full circle it is a good thing Mr. F dumped me. He would never of approved of my love of the lengthy full-of-unnecessary-guitar-solos that is the Led Zeppelin.

For those who read my blog regularly, I wish you the best new year. In case the Mayan people are in the least bit correct, make the coming year one of your best. 

Cheers. 

  

"It’s the way I’m feeling I just can’t deny, but I've gotta let it go"

Two-thousand-and-eleven will mark my second non-family Christmas celebration. 

I'm the only one of my siblings that won't be home for Christmas. The ticket prices for a plane ride were ridiculous for Christmas time and I am not made of cash. Only after I bought my tickets to visit my brother later in the coming new year, did my parents offer to help me pay with tickets to come see them over Christmas (along with the rest of the family). After refusing to change my destination and time of my flight, my parents have been rather cold with me. It isn't my fault I make a fifth to a quarter of the salary they make and made the best financial decision for my situation. Got to love credit cards. 

I'd go see my lovely sister for Christmas, however, considering how long it has been since I've seen my brother.... 

I really wanted to start my own holiday traditions this year. I told my dad this and he laughed at me, as if being single/unmarried made me unqualified to start my own traditions. Everyone knows dad that you doubt I'll marry (You were kind enough to announce it at my baby sister's wedding and you are lucky I still talk to you), but this  doesn't mean I cannot start a small tradition of my own.

I put up my tree within the first week of December thinking fondly of my sister as I decorated it with the ornaments she made and sent me last year and ornaments I bought last year to make my tree super cute. When I was younger our family always rearranged the furniture in the living room and put up and decorated the tree together. When I switched families, my mother did the whole thing herself and I grew to miss a tradition from my childhood (despite my birth parents being "sickos"). I mailed out a bazillion Christmas cards and have received a fair share of my own.

Currently, I've been wondering what I want in a "Christmas Holiday Traditional Dinner".  I thought of going to a Christmas Eve service, as I've always loved going, I find myself without someone willing to go with me. It always feels so awkward going to church alone. I will likely at a minimum read the Christmas story from the Bible.

At a minimum, I hope my family will humor me and at least allow me to skype with them over the holiday. 

With everyone leaving town to visit family, I cannot help but feel a touch of depression. In some ways, I'm glad I won't be visiting my parents over Christmas. Being stuck in a house with the politics of 3 married couples would only make me feel more alone and isolated. I'm the odd man out. In truth I envy my siblings. I all but begged my anti-social friend who isn't leaving town for Christmas to come have Christmas dinner with me.

Christmas should be a time I rejoice at the birth of my Saviour Jesus Christ, instead I'm crying as if it were Easter.

I really need a cat.

The International Conundrum

Attending grad school at a larger institution without the Super Jesus subculture has proved to be interesting. There are a great deal more minorities and far more international students than I have been accustomed to in my past. 

This semester my lab group recruited an international student to work with us as we needed an extra member as our current trio fell short of the 4-group-member requirement. I suppose it could be said he sought us. Last semester many of us started off on the lab trilogy, where our newest team member had not. Many of the groups were pre-established, and thus finding a group I'm sure proved challenging. We accepted him as our fourth member and assumed that all would be well given his ethnicity. The Chinese always seem to work hard and get excellent grades.

After each completed lab we are expected as a group to compile a lab report. It is customary to break apart the tasks so that no one person is overwhelmed with the amount of work required. We figured with the addition of another member this burden would be even lighter. Tasks were assigned-- our Chinese member receiving the task of writing up the theory used in the laboratory experiment. It quickly became apparent that he had plagerized the entire theory section from various sources. Naturally, we the trio of Americans (myself included) were greatly angered by this. To us this was not only lazy but unethical. The work had to be re-written by one of our team members. 

We addressed the issue the week after the realization. It was explained that this act of copying paragraphs of material without citing one's sources or using quotation marks was wrong. After this we assumed the problem would be resolved and started the next laboratory assignment. 

Within a week of this incident, there was to be a seminar about the very topic of plagiarism. Sadly, our team member did not attend. We discussed many scenarios, one which lingered on my mind. There was a case of a man who had earned his PhD later for the background and theory section of his dissertation to be cited for plagiarism.  The thing that struck me odd is that the man was from a foreign country (in this case not China) and did not feel he had done anything wrong in copying over 10 pages of another student's published thesis in his own dissertation. He had provided the source in his bibliography. 

As we began compiling the second experiment's lab report I discovered that again (though this time less obvious) our team member had plagiarized several sections of the theory in bulk form. Again, I felt anger. I had not spent hours working on my section to be handed something that was simply copied from sources and yet again the section had to be rewritten. I expressed how upset I was in an email reminding all my lab members that plagiarism was unacceptable. I had never come across this problem before in my entire academic career. I'm sure my fellow lab member was penalized more heavily for the wrong answer.

Our beloved fourth lab member spoke with another one of my lab members this past week while I was home sick with a migraine. He felt terrible as he had tried to produce his section in "his own words". I have since realized that our team member had trouble understanding this concept in the same manner as we Americans do. My entire academic career was spent on threats of flunking classes, losing scholarships, and gaining shame if I even thought of producing plagiarized work as my own. Websites like turnitin.com were used to insure my adherence to the practice of producing original but correct answers. 

I have come to realize that the American way, while protecting intellectual property, is not practiced by all the world. My team member simply did not realize he was doing something wrong. He had the correct answer, and an answer that was well published and well written. English is his second language, thus having to produce several pages on a technical topic becomes cumbersome. 

The moral of the story is the solution is not as simple as we might have hoped. Morals and professional ethics is not practiced the same across the world. In some countries having the right answer (regardless of the source) may far better than having the wrong answer in one's own words. The collective knowledge of people moves from individual credit to the realm of anonymous and public property. There is no reason to reinvent the wheel. What is yours (and correct) is mine. 

However, the American way of professional ethics demands the acknowledgement of an individual. There is no collectivism. What is yours is not mine. I must be creative. The need to master not only the idea but the English language is vital in relaying an idea just as majestically as the individual I am referencing. To use his idea exactly is stealing, no matter how perfectly poetic his idea is cast. I am required to reinvent the wheel. 

Our team member needs help in fully grasping this idea. This transition is not easy and our help will ensure the process is speedier. He needs help in executing it after he has understood. This week we have assigned him to data processing and this time I know he will do an excellent job. 

"I could rest my head just knowin' that you were mine all mine"

Job Fairs remind me of the idea of Reconnaissance.

Almost everyone dresses the same. Each employer attempts to lure potential employees with freebies, and each potential employee attempts to find a career that seems fitting.

I've never found career fairs particularly helpful. While they give a general idea of what a company offers, rarely is there someone in your field in that company to talk to. One merely hopes to gain enough information through a less than stellar source for the information one seeks to get a general idea if the company is right for them.

While I did find the career fair to a point interesting and informative, I am still left with a large array of choices, and far too many questions. Where do I want to live? What exactly do I wish to do on a daily basis? What is the minimum I'm willing to get paid? Do I want to be available to be relocated every year?

These questions are overwhelming enough, but then the most terrifying idea arises:
I don't want to stay in Ohio, and this would mean moving away from a person I deeply care about. Again, I'm leaving someone behind and the idea brings me a great deal of anxiety.

As the time frame to start applying for jobs looms nearer everyday, I have put the thought out of my mind, postponed it so to speak. However, the career fair reminds me that this part of my life must be brought forth and dealt with. My feelings must not only be hashed out but expressed.

I never felt comfortable with my feelings, as I have always had reason to avoid attachment usually involved with them. By accepting my feelings, I'd be defenestrating logic and sound reasoning. The problem has become that my feelings match my logic....and I am paralyzed with doubts, sadness, and insecurity. I do not know how to say "I love you" readily without fear, I do not know how to state "I want you in my future" without sounding embarrassed, and the worst part is I do not know how I will deal with the worst case scenario of  "I don't want the same". I am entombed, disoriented, and lacking courage. 

"So if you want to love me
Then darlin' don't refrain
Or I'll just end up walkin'
In the cold November rain"

Let's just hope I manage to speak up soon.

"How do you take your coffee my sweet?"

I'm crazy about a Kansas man. Not going to deny it.

Recently, the topic of attractiveness came up. I admitted I found him moderately attractive but not hot. He had trouble distinguishing the difference. To be honest it was difficult for me to try to explain. After thinking about it off and on over the course of the day (as it seemed I had hurt his ego some) the explanation came to me. Brad Pitt is hot, implying I find him a great deal physically appealing. Whereas a young Clint Eastwood is moderately attractive or as would be a more apt descriptor he is simply handsome. Brad is a man to potentially swoon over, and Clint is a man one would simply fall in love with. 

What M fails to understand is that my attractiveness towards him is beyond that of his appearance. This is not to say his appearance is poor for this is far from the truth. He dresses modestly and in such a way that perfectly reflects his general demeanor, he is a Clint Eastwood. I found him attractive within the first weeks of meeting him. His hair is dark, his skin is a lovely  olive-esque tone, and his eyes are a warm rich mahogany. His hands hold strength. His legs are the work of the running gods. He is built just right, as that of Poseidon. Lean and mean. Much of this is due to his own self-discipline, which I have grown to appreciate more and more.

However, the more time I spend with him and the more I get to know him, the more attractive he becomes. He maintains a good character, he is wonderfully manly (which is an incredibly sexy trait), sound in judgement,  maintains his own affairs well (referring to household, finances and general public image), exceptionally intelligent, immensely patient, maintains several hobbies, and his humor I greatly enjoy. 

 He is a handsome man through and through. 

At the end of the day I'd rather watch him run on the treadmill than Brad Pitt any day. 

"The essence of mathematics is not to make simple things complicated, but to make complicated things simple." ~S. Gudder

I've never understood why people hate math. It is far more challenging for me to grasp how people do anything without it. The thought of a society incapable of mathematical calculating abilities and simple algebraic thought is as alarming as illiteracy. The elegance and simplicity are astounding. No one seems to frown upon reading a simple paragraph, but people cringe over the thought of solving the equation (x+ 2)/3 = 10. 


As a child I was fed mathematical worksheets. What strikes many people odd about the math worksheets is the enjoyment I derived from them. Math delighted me. In first and second grade, whenever our class misbehaved, our teacher would begin to write math problems on the boards as "punishment". Luckily, I was a well behaved child in school, as this punishment never caused me fear but greatly excited me. In third grade we learned to multiply. I relished the fact that I would receive a free jolly rancher for doing something I greatly enjoyed. I had my cake and ate it too. The only thing that makes me uneasy about math these days is the branch of geometry. This has always proved challenging to me. 


If we look at the history of mathematical progress, much of it was done as a hobby. The disgust with mathematical courses in schools today will not point us to a happy future. Regardless of your position in society I firmly believe a strong grasp on simple algebra and a decent reading level is necessary to be a successful member of society. In my experience with potential elementary school teachers who deem the knowledge of algebra to be unnecessary (as they will be teaching "pre-school" but certified to teach up to fifth grade), I fear for our future as a country. 


Math is a lifelong friend. No one can steal his devotion away from my life. When I need to know how much to tip my waitress, he is there. When I am paying my bills, he is there. When I want to know how efficient my car is, he is by my side. He is always at my disposal, and I still cannot fathom how anyone would run away from it.
  

Farewell to Lipton, Oh hai Chocolate Puerh!

For years I have slowly been creeping into the whole tea ordeal. The more I dive in the more I cannot get enough. There are days I go without tea, and while they are generally alright, the best days start with tea.

When I got to college I learned to love iced tea. I have yet to turn back yet. Iced tea must always be cold and unsweetened for me. For some time I explored adding sugar to my iced tea, but the two never hit it off with me. Twinings English Afternoon Tea is likely the best iced tea I've had the pleasure to enjoy. It complements Merlot wine quite nicely when a wine break is a must. Occasionally I use Ahmad's Strawberry Black Tea for iced tea, with less then stellar results. Sugar may help.

It would take a foreign boyfriend to turn me onto hot tea. The Ukrainian introduced me to Ahmad's No. 1. While he prepared most of his tea from whole leaves in a beautifully painted kettle, he started me off with bagged tea to try on my own. Shortly after I turned to fruit infused black teas, and still enjoy a cup of a decent Raspberry Black Tea. The next step was discovering chai tea <3 . Chai, will likely always remain one of my favorites, though Earl Grey will remain in my heart still. I have recently come across Zhena's Gypsy Tea Firelight Chai Organic Tea, which has quickly become one of my new favorites. Over the course of my expeditions for a perfect cup of tea, I have dabbled in red teas, which I have found to be quite to my liking (I may even like them more than black teas! The horror! ), but there is more dabbling to do. However, red teas are harder to find. :-( Within the past year I met yet another advanced tea drinker, MG who has tried to introduce me sneakily to green tea. There is still a long road to explore the greens and decide if I like them. Lastly, I have yet to explore many herbal teas outside peppermint (usually mixed with a green such as Yogi's Green Tea Mint Garden ) and the worst tea I have ever sipped in my short wonderful life: anything Celestial. Super Ick!

 

Learning to prepare my tea has been a challenge of its own. I have gradually learned that stopping the kettle before the kettle whistles produces the best tea. Another lesson was reducing the steeping time of my tea bags for tea that was less bitter and tastier. Furthermore, I almost always prefer my hot tea with sugar. After having tea served to me with milk, I have begun small experiments to perfect this technique as well. Each little lesson I have learned has only increased my thirst for better tea, and soon I feel I'll be a tea snob. Ha!

In my little journey, my next endeavor will be the pursuit of obtaining a beautiful tea kettle infuser. I feel prepared to take the next step-- moving from bags to loose leaf. It is indeed a large step! The world of tea is complex and large (or at least larger than you strictly coffee drinkers realize).

MG made me the most perfect cup of  Twinings Irish Breakfast Tea I have ever sipped several days ago. I loved him for it.

Hopefully one day I shall perfect this craft.

"Love means to commit oneself without guarantee, to give oneself completely in the hope that our love will produce love in the loved person. Love is an act of faith, and whoever is of little faith is also of little love."~ Erich Fromm

I believe Eric Frome was onto something. Love is chance.

I hope soon it shall work in my favor.

"When the rich wage war, it's the poor who die." ~Jean-Paul Sartre

I am ashamed to live in a country where so many cheer and celebrate the death of a man. Despite the man's crimes, celebration is never in order for murder.

This general attitude disturbs and frightens me.

"You could be second runner-up Miss Ohio"

I had to go in early this morning, due to some last minute edits of our lab reports. It was purely business and we all chatted about various things. One of my peers brought up the Royal Wedding and how she wanted to see the brides dress. Naturally I made a bitter comment of sorts-- as I hadn't seen the Wedding.

Quite frankly, I missed this "glorious event" for several reasons. The largest reason? I simply didn't care, thus I didn't look up times to watch it. The Prince getting married is the least of my concerns. I'd hate to have everyone in the world watching my wedding, personally. 

As I escaped the oppressive clutches of our overly anal professor for the semester, the comment was made that I should be okay with myself before I can expect anyone to also do so.

The truth of the matter is, while I like myself and the qualities I posses, others don't. This often leaves me baffled and depressed as I feel I have a lot to give to people and a lot I wish to give to people. I have yet to figure it out. Perhaps I fail to take initiative? I don't want to seem overly needy. I must admit, people make me nervous, they always have. Things would be better if they actually spoke their minds from time to time...

Overall I'd say I have a certain level of intelligence, I am attractive enough, and though I like a fair amount of time to myself I do enjoy good company. (Perhaps that is it.... only certain people are good company.) The worst thing I find about social situations is often I find myself out of the loop. I don't pick up on modern references to celebrities, singers, events etc. While this inadequacy is bothersome, the idea of wasting my time remembering such things fails to appeal to me. My dislike of "in" things may stem from this discomfort of not being in with the times. I hate the expectations of what is cool. Prime example: The Beetles. I'm not going to deny their place in musical history, I just never found their music appealing. This is quite the crime in many social circles as the Beetles have the set "great music" status. (They are okay...but I'd rather listen to something else most of the time.)

Maybe I just have an overwhelming desire to be individualistic, but I also long for companionship. These conflicting goals have given me a great deal of grief as I try to make friends with people. Making friends--- what a necessary and challenging task! 

I'm cool in my little world.

One of the qualities I like best about myself is the ability to see potential in things. (Under my depressing shell I have a great deal of optimism.) Today as I was gathering my garbage I realized the stems I had cut off the end of the daisies I bought several weeks ago were dry and would be perfect to act as braces for my beautifully growing bean plants. I am resourceful. I don't think like other people (which sometimes is a pain in the ass when I wish to explain something--it's like translating languages where all the words in your language don't exist in theirs). This enables me to see things from a different angle, often resulting in odd suggestions. 

Current things bringing me joy:

• My bean plants and their new, quite gorgeous leaves (such elegant shapes!) I've actually thought of growing them through the winters as well as I find the plant to be quite pleasing to my eye.
• My Hypoestes who have spent a year with me now. (Now with larger and more vibrant leaves!)
• The threat of slightly warmer weather. 
• Weird Al's song "Whatever You Like" <----- check it out!
• MG's awesome mustache. I hope he never gets rid of it. Though he's still cool in my book without it.
• Upcoming Cinco de Mayo
• Finals being over by Wednesday (I could scream for joy off of roof tops about this)
• Avoiding my credit cards like the plague (can I make it to the 10th? Unlikely, since I'll need toilet paper)
• Sunshine! (God knows I love rain, but a break in it is super nice)
• My sister's future husband potentially landing a job
• The level of cuteness that my nephew at such a young age has obtained. 
• The quirkiness that is the musician James Blunt
• Hearing from my Tulsa girlfriend 
• Getting to see an old friend and his wife soon
• The guitar playing of my dearest wolf

(That might be enough for now) 

Have a kickin' weekend.

The Twitter Bug

I recently (very recently) signed up for a Twitter account such that I could potentially win some Roy Orbison paraphernalia.

I must admit, I've never understood the whole Twitter thing. It makes no sense to me. However, I have decided to use it as an outlet for my random thoughts I have throughout the day. These thoughts are along the lines of interesting from my point of view and gives people the idea I have some sort of ADD or ADHD. This seems like a decent idea for many reasons.

1. Only people who want to know random (likely uninteresting) thoughts will actually be bothered by my random thoughts.
2. I will appear less talkative with a new outlet. Whoohoo!

The funny thing is that people think I'm talkative... bahaha! I enjoy a great deal of no speaking. I cannot help if you are the first person I meet that day....

I will try to use my blog to tackle greater thoughts than I would expect one to find in my "tweets". Til then cross your fingers I win the Roy O. goods!

" Started out all alone, and the sun went down..."

This is very much my favorite of the Heartbreakers variety. 

Since I've graduated high school I have felt that in a way "I'm learning to fly". 

I haven't a clue what exactly I wish to address with this. I guess in a way I'm still learning. 

I am trying to remain hopeful. There is much happiness in the world. 

"More than this Baby, I hate days like this"

Being at it has been a long while (or so it seems) since I last wrote, I decided as I wait for edits to a monster of a lab report to at least write some (as if I haven't had more than enough time to do so with the lab report).

Lately the semester has picked up. I am overall frustrated and tired with the semester. I think that holds true for many of my peers as well. This week alone I've scheduled a midterm, a computer project due, a lab report due, a homework set due and a presentation to put together. I won't even touch my research until the last thing is done this week. Sadly, once it is all done, there is yet more to do. I look forward to a week of academic freedom. Sometimes I want to quit and go categorize beetles. Beetles like the ones in the movie the Mummy. Ah Beetles....such beautiful bugs.

Outside of school I am still attempting to win over a rather confusing gentleman. Furthermore, I have developed more friends in the area. It is encouraging. I enjoyed a nice walk with a few the other night. It was nice to have such a beautiful night, and I enjoyed it barefoot and in shorts. Again it is cold and I feared for my more tropical climate plants and had to bring them in again.

I had a nightmare within the past week. When I am really stressed out I commonly have dreams of smoking, despite the fact I have never smoked in my life. In my nightmare I could not find my cigarettes, and as a result I woke up even more stressed and increasingly frustrated.

I am looking forward to my sister's wedding soon, however I am also fairly stressed about it as I will be missing a week or more of class along with the long commute and taking my break between spring and summer classes in a high stress, wedding planning setting. Thankfully this will only happen once and perhaps in the middle of the summer I can take a short trip to the mountains and breathe in the fresh air in the quietness of nowhere. I have been longing to drive to the state park I went to when it was much colder over winter break, however I've been far to busy and gas prices have been much too high.

This month I am trying very hard to avoid using my credit card. I already turned down going bowling. I am sure there will be many more sacrifices to come.

I have been stuck in a few books of late. I am about a third the way through Flatland, have read two to three chapters of The Fountainhead, and have touched Frankenstein. I have to admit, reading Flatland has frequently left me offended as the author is from a different time period and has a different view of women. It is interesting how he describes the women in the book to be of even a lower class than the lowest class and terribly dangerous. It is hard for me to believe his views of women were held across the entire culture of his time. Then again....teaching a woman in the Victorian era seemed to be rather frowned upon beyond a certain level of education. The other books I have not divulged far enough into to give any clear opinion of the authors projected views.

Lastly, I should sleep. In four hours I must arise, shower, and begin again. There is much to do, much to do.

"You belong among the wildflowers. You belong in a boat out at sea..."

There was a man all alone; 
   he had neither son nor brother. 
There was no end to his toil, 
   yet his eyes were not content with his wealth. 
“For whom am I toiling,” he asked, 
   “and why am I depriving myself of enjoyment?” 
This too is meaningless— 
   a miserable business!

--Ecclesiastes 4:8

In the bible, the first thing that God recognizes as "not good" is for man to be alone. If God was enough for Adam, why did he make Eve?

I worry that my life will be filled with this "not good" of loneliness. I worry so much that it is me. I'm crazy, abrasive, annoying, and apparently far too talkative.  Lately I have been spending a great deal of time alone. At the same time I have tried desperately to remain as quiet as possible at school. I know they get tired of me talking, but as much as I just want someone to listen to me and tell me all my worries are okay, I continue to deny myself this. They don't care nor do they wish to hear about it. 

This past winter I had a friend that would occasionally come and watch a television show with me. I enjoyed their company, but I haven't seen them in weeks. It has been ages since my female friend and I have just "hung out". 

When I was at SBU I always knew that if I needed someone to talk to or just sit with me that I would find someone who would do so. Right now I'm hundreds of miles from anyone who'd drop what they were doing to spend an hour or two with me. I really miss that. 

When I was growing up I always had my siblings to keep me company. When I was blue my sister was always there to comfort me. My brother was always there to chat with. They grow older and are starting families of their own, thus have less time. I miss talking to my brother after work before we'd go in the house. I miss going to the movies with my sister.

I guess part of getting older is realizing that while the companionship is still needed, the opportunities grow slimmer. 

"Her smile is more precious than the sparkle of pearls"

I'm sad.

I'm certain my life is a continuous battle against depression.

"I play it off but I'm dreamin of you I'll keep my cool but I'm feigning "

A friend of mine, who in the past month or two had a break-up came to a great realization this past weekend. He realized that the girl he was involved with could not be the sole source of his happiness and it was unfair to expect her to be so.

As I experience March free of boyfriends (though there is one I wish I had.... but we won't go into that) I realize that without one, I have grown to remember the many things that have brought me happiness. Happiness that isn't tied to any individual.

For example in my depression of sorts I bought far too many plants. I can say I do dearly love my plants. I have taken great care to nurture them to grow their very best.

Another example: In speaking to a female friend of mine I remember stating how relaxing folding paper was and how much I enjoyed it. I finally ordered myself some basic paper to fold with.

I have come to realize that what I am going to grad school for excites me, intrigues me and challenges me but it is not my heart. My heart desires art, nature, music....

However, I often feel guilty in pursuing these things that enrich my spirit. Usually this is when I should be doing work. Quite often I'd rather paint, draw, garden, write, dance, run, feel the wind across my face, listen to the rain and learn that song I want to sing to a man I'm in love with on my ukulele. Despite the guilt, I know that these things along with my peers, keep me sane.

We must remember that life is so much richer if we include the things we enjoy. Art reminds me that beauty isn't reserved for perfection. Quite often the beautiful things in life are not sharp edges ( I often think leaves are the most perfect shape ever) or perfect even numbers. The world is so irrational and so breathtaking!

I hope that I will marry a man someday who has hobbies that greatly enrich his life.

For now I want to run to the App Mountains and breathe the clean fresh air. I cannot wait for perfect painting weather. I have the urge to run and laugh and play in the rain. Cats, I've got to get one of those.

Taking Tests....

Tomorrow I take a test that I feel has been unjustly placed. Tuesday was the first indication of our progress in the course and since then we have had less than 48 hours to study for a major midterm. After suffering from a migraine most of the day, I have spent the evening doing my best to study for a test I feel drastically under-prepared for.

However, I also realize I've done far too much complaining this week. Yes it has been incredibly stressful with two major midterms and a lab report due, but there is no need to fuss and fight. Sometimes we must play our cards and hope (and pray lots) that in the end we come out even or better.

The funny thing is that most everyone else taking this test will be in the same boat as myself. Grad school has a bad habit of making many people feel stupid.

Feeling stupid makes me cry, especially if the feeling is overwhelming. A fair amount of my confidence lies in my academic abilities. For the first time in my life I have little to no confidence in my ability to perform as a graduate student. I have thought numerous times of dropping out, but I know this is what I want to do. I look forward to getting more in depth into my research. I am very excited about my research. I have made it through far too many trials to falter here.

I can at least say I have done my best to give my best this semester. I really have. I thought of dropping out of the optics program and changing my direction completely. Analytical or physical chemistry, entomology, or even being a dentist (the last one is because the dentist takes so much of my money!). I intend on finishing my degree. I can do this. :)

In other news, I have been sifting and sifting and slowly building courage to go forth in my romantic pursuits.  Hopefully things work out.

"I got this feelin' inside night and day and, and now I can't take it no more"

"If I kind of like a guy, then I'm a fantastic flirt. But with a guy I truly like, I get painfully shy."
Shannen Doherty

When it comes to men, I generally have no issues. I get along with them just fine. I have many male friends. However, when it comes to speaking up with my thoughts and feelings I am by far one of the most shy individuals there exists. 


This extreme shyness is a direct result of never winning. More often than not things don't work out, they aren't interested, and I have left myself open, vulnerable and figuratively bleeding. My pride is very fragile after so many failed relationships.


I do not hold myself in high regard. Why should I? I am moderately attractive at best, I'm intelligent, socially incompetent and eccentric... 


Who wants someone so eccentric? 


Furthermore, even if I get to confidence to express myself, am I really worth their time? I often feel that those I date settle on me, since I am the best opportunity at the time. Over time they realize they can do "better". 


Who wants someone with a screwed up childhood, deep rooted  emotional demons, and  who struggles to wake up in the mornings on occasion because of depression? Who wants someone whom others believe is spacy, cheezy, and over-emotional? 


Who am I that I should be the one people are crazy about? 


I like to believe I pick poorly, sometimes I'm not so sure. More often I believe it is me. More often than not, I'm not perfect. 


How can I even fathom expressing my feelings to someone whom I look up to, who brings me happiness, and for whom I am likely everything they never wanted?


I am nothing special. I'm no princess. There is no knight that wants to whisk me away into a sunset. I have always been the backburner girlfriend....perhaps that is for a reason... me.