See?

I don't know if anyone heard me mutter "he looks my dad" last night, but really, look at that. When he's not making a weird face, he looks even more like Will Farrell. I just don't have a better picture.

I'm glad that I watched that movie. It gave me some solace about next semester. I'm pretty sure I'm not coming. There is a very slight possibilty that I can get need based aid, but they didn't give it to me last time, so I'm not hoping for anything this time. I'm not very good at that. Jill, you can do that for me.

Anyway, watching Stranger Than Fiction gave me an idea for next semester. I was thinking that it probably is a good thing that I don't have access to a stove. I would wind up with 27 (well, considering this school, it might be more like 127) study buddies, 7 notebooks of recipes (I already have three) and a D average. BUT next semester, I can send you guys care packages! Who doesn't like to get mail? Who doesn't like to eat? See? It works. It would make me happy, too. Well sort of. You know me. It doesn't take much to make me happy. Babies and kitchen chores. Heck, I'd be willing to clean a refrigerator right now. And be happy about it. Or mop a floor. At least I'll get to do that "next semester"...

As a side note, I love Dr. Urbanczyk. It made my day to hear him loose his temper during our midterm. And next semester, ( it doesn't matter for me, but it did make me happy to know) he's taeching a class on mideival literature. Which means Middle English. He said. Haha

Yay?

The one thing that I most want right now is, of course, the thing that is the least likely to happen. In fact, it's absolutely impossible. There is no way that it will happen or can. I want to get off campus for a few hours. Alone. I could take a walk on the golf course, but that's basically a backyard- it's not really off campus. The Chapel is nice, too, but people can still find you there and sometimes, people get worried if you stay in there too long. They think something is wrong. If you were watching me write this, you'd see me rolling my eyes. I mean, it's nice that people care about you, but... And nothing's wrong- I just want to be alone. And that's utterly impossible.

What makes me want this even more is the fact that in a couple of weeks, I'll be at my parents' home where I don't even have a space that I can call "mine". I'll be invading other people's personal space. I hate that. At least here I have a bed and a bit of room. People aren't going to have to sleep on the floor because I am using their bed. I don't know how it's going to work for summer vacation. And I really don't think I'm coming next semester, either. I don't even want to think about spending seven months in Alabama. That's too depressing. Let's not talk about Alabama.

I don't like spring. Actually, I like spring, I just don't like watching the way people act in the spring. I've decided that I'm going to get married in November or January- those are the grossest months imaginable. I can't figure out why God invented them. There are lot of things that make me wonder what God was thinking when He was creating the world.

I get to babysit Jackie on Saturday. That's something I'm looking foward to. Funny how mundane things like spit-up, drool, and worse are going to be the highlight of my week. I miss babies. And I really should be writing my philosophy midterm right now.

What a Week

-or, "Some very fine whine, especially for Brian"


I'm sick of being sick. And doctors. And medicine. I hate taking medicine. Especially medicine that doesn't work. Or that I'm allergic to. Oh well. I think that I'll have been to the doctor's more times by the end of this week than I have been in the last couple of years. And I don't even think I was sick when I went. I was there for my scoliosis and for a physical the last times I went. I think one time was my junior year of highschool and the other was right before the beginning of the Fall semester. And I miss my mom. And I want a smoothie. But is that any surprise?


I wrote that this afternoon. It's now 8:08pm.


My phone conversation with the nurse:
Dr. Kerns wants you to come in because you had this reaction
I'm really am fine now; I took Benadryl and all of the symptoms went away
Well he still wants to see you. He won't write a new perscription for you if you don't come in.
I don't think I am going to need any more perscriptions; I feel much better than I've felt all week.
Well, Dr. Kerns still advises you to come in.

ABOUT FOUR HOURS LATER
Is there any particular reason Dr. Kerns wants to see me? Any pressing reason that I absolutely need to come in?
Well Dr. Kerns wants to look at your throat since you had mouth sores as a reaction. And respiratory problems are common when you have a reaction that bad.
Ok, I haven't had any trouble breathing and all of the symptoms are gone.
Dr Kerns would still like to see you.

SO I go to the clinic, which is an hour away. Wait in the waiting room for an hour, sit in the exam for twenty or thirty minutes, (and the nurse guy was creepy, too), then some doc (I think he was a doc, anyway, maybe not) comes in listens to me breathe and says:
"You're fine. You don't need any more prescriptions. Stop taking the codone. You'll still have a cough even after you finish the antibiotics."
-Yes, I know, I only came because he wanted me to.
"Yeah, I got his note."

He's lucky he didn't get my fist down his throat. Ok. That wouldn't have happened but, I'm pretty sure that I shot him a "you-have-got-be-kidding-me-you-just-wasted-four-and-half-hours-of-my-day-AND-Lauren's-day-so-that-you-could-tell-me-what-I-told-you-no-fewer-than-three-times-already-and-you're-charging-me-for-it?! and-if-looks-could-kill-you-would-be-at-least-severely-maimed" glance.

I was NOT happy at all.

So, I'm hoping for a miracle. Unfortunately, I'm not very good at hoping. I don't doubt that it can happen, but I don't let myself think that it will happen, or that there is a possibility that it might happen. I don't know if it's possible to pray with out hoping; I think that prayer infers that there is some slight hope. Perhaps there is. Perhaps there are two types of hope. I don't know.

I can, however do the "pray like it all depends on God, work like it all depends you" thing. I sent an email to Ms (Mrs.?) Roy saying I will not able to attend in the fall if I don't get more scholarship money and will I lose my fellowship if I have to miss out on the fall semester; how about my job? In better language, of course, but that was the jist of it.

I suppose if that doesn't work (I did already talk to the other people in the Finacial aid building but they just said, no there's nothing you can do) I will talk to Ms. Evanco. She pulls strings for me all the time. She seems to think that I'm indispensable for some reason... I can't figure that one out.

But hey, if I can't come back in the Fall, I have an idea for Fall break next semester.
You guys should all come visit me in Alabama. That would be a most interesting thing. Jill, you can look for the crippled goat and maybe we'll even have a cow that you can ride on. And Lauren, my uncle has horses. I think you all could survive the middle of nowhere for three or four days. I just don't know if you stand each other for four days in the middle of nowhere...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Brian and Derek were wondering how long a list of things that bother me would be. Pretty long.

A list of things that bother me

Being touched
Feet
Eyes
Bad food
Not being able to help people
People who won’t let me help them
Phony people
Getting up early
People who have laptops and use the school’s computers to check their Myspace, Facebook, and email when there are people who don’t have computers waiting to write papers
Not knowing what the heck it was that I just ate
People who are spoiled
People who think that life is a bowl of cherries without the pits
People who stare at me after stalking me for half a semester and who have a girlfriend
Being jealous of people who don’t have worry about money problems
People who I can picture caricatured as possums
My Grandmother
Her husband
People who think that Alabamians listen to only country music
When guys don’t treat girls well
When girls don’t treat guys well
Excessive public smooching, especially when it blocks the door to my villa
Teasing about my coughing, while I’m coughing; it just makes it worse
Girls
Yes, girls, they are mean and they gossip
The fact that there are so many things on list
The fact that there are many more things that could and should be on this list
Self –righteous people
Hypocritical people
Condescending people (in the negative connotation)
People who use other people
A sticky table or dirty philosophy table
The fact that I can write more words on this page in ten minutes than I can in two hours when I am trying to write a paper
The fact that at some point I will fulfill all of these things (Wait, no I will never stalk myself and I am not my grandmother, her husband, or a guy and I know that not all Alabamians listen to country. Oh, I don’t have a boyfriend; that disqualifies me from one for a while at least).

That's just a basic list. *sigh.....
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Library Jitters

One hour and fifteen minutes:
Hopefully, I'll make it. Right now, I'm wondering how mad the admin will get if they see sitting on the circ desk. Or even with my feet on the desk. I'm not sure I can sit still very much longer. I feel like a little kid on long car ride. Well, like anyone on a long car ride.

One hour and seven minutes:
I really don't like this chair. And I don't like Sartre either. It bothers me that I can see a certain amount of logic behind his arguement. I don't buy it. It only makes a certain amount of sense if are atheistic (at least what I've read so far). He bases his whole premise on there being no God; if I were to believe there wasn't a God, I do believe I could be an existentialist. Even if I can't say it.
I also don't like this font. It swims in front of my face. My glasses aren't really helping. And no, Brian, I don't care if that was "such a woman thing to say".

Thirty seven minutes:
Mrs. DeBell told me earlier that they've blocked MySpace, Facebook and YouTube on the computers in here. I don't know about the computers in the Anti-Coffee House. I'm hungry. And bored, which is why I'm writing this. Not because I need to vent, not to amuse anyone, but simply because I'm extremely bored. If I were on a car ride, I'd be singing 100 bottles of beer on the wall. Or maybe an Irish drinking song. If I didn't have to work, I'd be eating right now.
Why am I always hungry?

Twenty-Two Minutes:
Sartre is no longer advancing an arguement that is logical. Am I spelling arguement right? Eh, I don't feel like looking it up now. That's right. To anyone who might be reading this: I don't care enough about you to make sure that I'm spelling arguement correctly.

Six Minutes:
Yay! I can start signing out now! And singing out!

hmm

I had forgotten how much I really miss cooking, cleaning, and taking care of babies (well, anyone really; it just happens that yesterday I got to put a baby to sleep!). Yesterday sort of made me happy (I got to cook and do stuff like that again) and sort of made sad (I no longer really have anyone to do that sort of stuff for except when I go home [you guys are going to have to let me cook for you a lot now that I've been told I can go back to Hartmann's house and cook] ; also, I haven't ever really cooked and not had my family around, been making something for my family, or helping some member of my family make it). It also made me think quite a bit.

Eventually, there's something that each one of us is supposed to do with our life. In the past year, I've been amazed and intimidated by th thought of A) the circumstances underwhich I wound up here and B)the fact that I can't stay here forever; sooner or later (funny, I always thought it would be later, now it seems to be sooner) I'm going to have to decide exactly what it is I'm supposed to be doing.

Yesterday, I started to wonder what it is that I'm going to wind up doing with my life. I've always wanted to simply "be a mom" , but other than that, I have absolutely no clue. Which struck me as funny; I should have an idea of what I want to do when I get out school, especially since there's no garauntee (certainly not the way things look right now) of that ever even happening. But I have no idea what I would do for a job. Perhaps, I'll go study Canon Law in Italy. That would be fun. Perhaps, I'll go study music in Italy, that would be wonderful. (Not that studying something can actually be counted as a job).

Thing is, there is absolutely nothing that I want to do with my life; I have no ambitions, no expectations, no plans. Which is a very scary thought. Would that leave me stuck living in my parents house forever, flipping burgers for less than minimum wage while my siblings became wonderful people and successful ones, too? Not that I measure success by money or wealth, but I mean, come on, it does help. Especially since they have ambitions and dreams; they know exactly what they want to do.

Right now, I'm not too worried about it, though. If this were spring semester of senior year, then I'd be worried. As it is, I'm only 18 and have three and a half more years (at least) to decide.