I know I haven't posted here since August. It doesn't really seem like I have a reason to, because no one actually reads this. But earlier today while I was wasting time on StumbleUpon, I came across a list of journal writing prompts and thought it would be fun to use them. So what if no one reads this? It's my journal. I can ramble as much as I want. So here I go. The first prompt on the list was "10 things that make me happy," so, in no particular order...
1. FAMILY
My parents and sister are the only people I know I can always go to. Cheesy, I know, but the fact that I have them in my life never fails to make me happy.
2.FRIENDS
My friends are wonderful because they don't mind that I'm a nerd...mostly because they're nerds too. I love that while most college kids go to bars, get drunk, and make bad decisions, my friends and I go to bars, get drunk, and diagram sentences on napkins.
3. THE WEATHER RIGHT NOW
SO much snow has melted. The lake sized puddles have mostly dried up so I don't have to swim down the sidewalk to get to campus. It's warm enough to be outside for longer than two minutes without going numb, but still cool enough to take my breath away.
4. SATURDAYS
I love not having to wake up at 7:30 AM. Actually, I love waking up at 7:30, realizing I have nowhere to be all day, and then falling asleep and not waking up again until noon.
5. SPANISH
For one thing, it's the only subject in school that I've always felt fully confident in. For some reason, memorizing vocabulary and conjugating verbs fourteen different ways not only comes easily to me, but it's FUN. Besides the academic aspect, Spanish is a gorgeous language, so fiery and rhythmic.
6. COFFEE
I don't know that this makes me happy as much as it makes me...function. Oh, well. Being functional makes me happy.
7. RAINY DAYS
I want to go puddle jumping!
8. CHOCOLATE
It keeps the dementors away.
9. CLASSES BEING CANCELLED
Do I need to explain this one? Even fifty extra minutes in my day make things soooo much easier.
10. HALLOWEEN
I'm weird, Spooky stuff and wearing costumes makes me very happy.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
first week of classes
Revolution, enlightenment, and enslavement
POSITIVE: I'll be learning about a time period that we really skimmed over in middle and high school. We're reading Paradise Lost. The professor seems really nice.
NEGATIVE: The English department know-it-all/kiss-ass is in the class too.
comparative literature
POSITIVE: We're reading lit that ISN'T transatlantic. One of our books is actually a graphic novel.
NEGATIVE: I know absolutely no one in the class.
modernism
POSITIVE:The professor is pretty funny.
NEGATIVE: She's kind of long-winded.
English syntax
POSITIVE: Compared to my other classes, the workload is pretty light. What I'm learning can easily be applied to my professional future. The professor is cool.
NEGATIVE:So far none. Woot!
Shakespeare
POSITVE: I've already read two of the plays we're covering, and we get to choose which play we want to read for our big semester-long project.
NEGATIVE: The professor is a little intense. I like that she's enthusiastic about the subject, because I think that will make the class a lot more interesting, but it makes me think she'll grade super harshly since she's kind of obsessed. The semester-long project is pretty daunting as well.
POSITIVE: I'll be learning about a time period that we really skimmed over in middle and high school. We're reading Paradise Lost. The professor seems really nice.
NEGATIVE: The English department know-it-all/kiss-ass is in the class too.
comparative literature
POSITIVE: We're reading lit that ISN'T transatlantic. One of our books is actually a graphic novel.
NEGATIVE: I know absolutely no one in the class.
modernism
POSITIVE:The professor is pretty funny.
NEGATIVE: She's kind of long-winded.
English syntax
POSITIVE: Compared to my other classes, the workload is pretty light. What I'm learning can easily be applied to my professional future. The professor is cool.
NEGATIVE:So far none. Woot!
Shakespeare
POSITVE: I've already read two of the plays we're covering, and we get to choose which play we want to read for our big semester-long project.
NEGATIVE: The professor is a little intense. I like that she's enthusiastic about the subject, because I think that will make the class a lot more interesting, but it makes me think she'll grade super harshly since she's kind of obsessed. The semester-long project is pretty daunting as well.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
sleep deprived
I have not been sleeping well since I moved back to Winona. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because I'm still adjusting to the new digs. Maybe I'm still a little paranoid that some blood-sucking flying rat is going to make its way into my room again. I don't know. But last night I planned on at least trying to get a full night's sleep so I'd be awake and alert for the freshman orientation panel I'm helping out with today. Unfortunately, that's not how things worked out.
My room mate and five of her obnoxious friends burst into our apartment at 2 AM. I tried my best to tune them out but it was impossible. They didn't bother keeping their voices down either because my room mate "had no idea if I was there." When am I NOT home at 2 AM on a Wednesday? I mean, there have been exceptions, but for the most part I am home and asleep (or at least, tossing and turning fitfully in my bed) by then. Finally, one of her especially intoxicated friends came into my room to see if I was sleeping. When she saw that I wasn't, she kept bugging me to come out to the living room to chill with them. These are some of the last people I'd want to hang out with, but I figured I wasn't sleeping anyway, so I shuffled out in my moose (or as the especially drunk friend kept yelling "CariBOU!!!!!!") pajamas and bedhead and joined them.
It was a HUGE headache sitting out there listening to them. At least in my room I was able to put a pillow over my head to block out my head (or smother myself). The group was comprised of the kind of guy who gives frat boys a bad name, two loud, melodramatic girls arguing about some lesbian love triangle, and a girl who kept trying to make herself sound cool and kept repeating that she'd been arrested four times and going on about how much she loved jail. One guy was actually okay, because he was somewhat sober and was planning on doing an internship in Sevilla, so we had a decent amount to talk about that DIDN'T revolve around Greek life or trivial college not-quite-relationships.
I finally ended up falling asleep at five and waking up at eight thirty when my alarm went off. I hit the snooze button until about ten, got dressed, grabbed my stuff, and made my way over to campus. Now I'm sitting in the Smaug, enjoying a muffin and iced mocha, trying to wake up before I have to deal with sixty rowdy freshman for three hours. Hopefully once classes start these impromptu parties won't be as frequent, but I'm not holding my breath.
My room mate and five of her obnoxious friends burst into our apartment at 2 AM. I tried my best to tune them out but it was impossible. They didn't bother keeping their voices down either because my room mate "had no idea if I was there." When am I NOT home at 2 AM on a Wednesday? I mean, there have been exceptions, but for the most part I am home and asleep (or at least, tossing and turning fitfully in my bed) by then. Finally, one of her especially intoxicated friends came into my room to see if I was sleeping. When she saw that I wasn't, she kept bugging me to come out to the living room to chill with them. These are some of the last people I'd want to hang out with, but I figured I wasn't sleeping anyway, so I shuffled out in my moose (or as the especially drunk friend kept yelling "CariBOU!!!!!!") pajamas and bedhead and joined them.
It was a HUGE headache sitting out there listening to them. At least in my room I was able to put a pillow over my head to block out my head (or smother myself). The group was comprised of the kind of guy who gives frat boys a bad name, two loud, melodramatic girls arguing about some lesbian love triangle, and a girl who kept trying to make herself sound cool and kept repeating that she'd been arrested four times and going on about how much she loved jail. One guy was actually okay, because he was somewhat sober and was planning on doing an internship in Sevilla, so we had a decent amount to talk about that DIDN'T revolve around Greek life or trivial college not-quite-relationships.
I finally ended up falling asleep at five and waking up at eight thirty when my alarm went off. I hit the snooze button until about ten, got dressed, grabbed my stuff, and made my way over to campus. Now I'm sitting in the Smaug, enjoying a muffin and iced mocha, trying to wake up before I have to deal with sixty rowdy freshman for three hours. Hopefully once classes start these impromptu parties won't be as frequent, but I'm not holding my breath.
Friday, August 6, 2010
BAT ATTACK: part dos
The next day a maintenance guy from my housing office came out to see if the bat was still there and find where it got in. He said the bat was most likely gone, because it would still be flying around if it was still in the apartment. He found a gap in the wall of the furnace room that leads to the chimney and we figured that was how it got in. He sealed it up, said he'd come back the next day to put a rubber stopper on the bottom of the furnace room door just to be safe, and left. I thought that was the end of it. Silly me.
I heard flapping around around two the next morning. I reluctantly turned on my light, not wanting to see what I knew would be there. Sure enough, the nasty thing was hanging on the wall next to my door. Actually, he was hanging on a block of wood on the wall by my door. The wood was there when I moved in, and I assumed it was covering a hole, but apparently it didn't cover all of it. I tried to scare the bat out of my room with a broom and he squeezed into a gap above the block of wood. I hit the block of wood, trying to scare it out so I could get it out the front door but it wouldn't fly out.
I refused to sleep in the house with a bat for another night, so I called my roommate and filled her in. Her friend had two couches for us to crash on, which was great. Unfortunately, they wanted to hang out at the TKE frat house for a while before we went to her friend's apartment. They ended up staying until about 6 AM. I got fed up with their pointless ramblings about Greek life around four and went back to my roommate's car to sleep in the back seat. We eventually made it back to her friend's apartment and got a few more hours of sleep, then called the housing office again. They sent the same guy over and he managed to scare the bat out for good. He sealed up the hole in the wall so now there is no way that creepy little flying rat is getting back in here.
I used to love bats. I thought they were so cute. They were my favorite part of the nocturnal exhibit at the zoo. My sister and I even used to pretend we were bats when we were little and used our bunk bed as a bat cave (yeah, I was a weird kid). That image has been shattered. They are not nearly as adorable when they are dive bombing your head in a tiny apartment with low ceilings.
Want to know something cool? The word for bat in Spanish is "murcielago." It has each vowel. It might be my favorite Spanish word, even if it's not my favorite animal anymore.
I heard flapping around around two the next morning. I reluctantly turned on my light, not wanting to see what I knew would be there. Sure enough, the nasty thing was hanging on the wall next to my door. Actually, he was hanging on a block of wood on the wall by my door. The wood was there when I moved in, and I assumed it was covering a hole, but apparently it didn't cover all of it. I tried to scare the bat out of my room with a broom and he squeezed into a gap above the block of wood. I hit the block of wood, trying to scare it out so I could get it out the front door but it wouldn't fly out.
I refused to sleep in the house with a bat for another night, so I called my roommate and filled her in. Her friend had two couches for us to crash on, which was great. Unfortunately, they wanted to hang out at the TKE frat house for a while before we went to her friend's apartment. They ended up staying until about 6 AM. I got fed up with their pointless ramblings about Greek life around four and went back to my roommate's car to sleep in the back seat. We eventually made it back to her friend's apartment and got a few more hours of sleep, then called the housing office again. They sent the same guy over and he managed to scare the bat out for good. He sealed up the hole in the wall so now there is no way that creepy little flying rat is getting back in here.
I used to love bats. I thought they were so cute. They were my favorite part of the nocturnal exhibit at the zoo. My sister and I even used to pretend we were bats when we were little and used our bunk bed as a bat cave (yeah, I was a weird kid). That image has been shattered. They are not nearly as adorable when they are dive bombing your head in a tiny apartment with low ceilings.
Want to know something cool? The word for bat in Spanish is "murcielago." It has each vowel. It might be my favorite Spanish word, even if it's not my favorite animal anymore.
Monday, August 2, 2010
BAT ATTACK
Around 2 AM this morning I heard a scratching noise. At first, I didn't think anything of it. I figured my fan was blowing one of my posters against the wall or something. When it didn't stop, my imagination kicked in, and thanks to the horror movie I watched earlier in the evening, I wildly thought that someone was outside my window, trying to break in. I turned on the light next to my bed and looked around my room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Nothing was moving, I didn't see any suspicious shadows outside of my window. I was just starting to think that I had overreacted when a small, furry, gray-brown head poked out from the heating vent on my ceiling.
Naturally, I was shocked. It looked like a mouse until it unfolded its wings, squeezed out, and started flapping around my room. That's when I started screaming. I can't believe my roommate didn't hear me. If anyone DOES ever break into my room I'm going to have a serious problem, because apparently I'm incommunicado from my corner of the apartment. When she didn't come to my rescue, I called my parents. I felt bad, because it was so early in the morning and they live two hours away so they couldn't do anything, but I had no idea who else to call.
While they tried to calm me down and offer suggestions I wrapped myself in my comforter for protection and ran out of the room. The bat had gotten out as well and was fluttering around the kitchen and living room. We have two front doors; there's the one that leads outside, a little entrance area, and another door. I propped open the second one with a folded-up card table, but I couldn't find anything to prop open the second one while I tried to chase out the bat. I ended up running into my roommate's room and waking her up. Turns out she's no help because she's terrified of bats, so she called one of her frat boy friends.
He came over and THINKS he saw something fly past him when he opened the front door,and after a pretty thorough search of the apartment and couldn't find the bat. He left, and my roommate went with him, but of course I can't sleep. I never saw the bat leave and he only thinks he saw something fly out. I keep hearing random clicking and scratching noises that I'm not sure are just normal house noises or if it means the bat is still in here. I closed my bedroom door after they left-I'm in the living room and I was just too creeped out to leave all the doors open and leave myself open to attacks-so for all I know he's flying around in there again but I'm too scared to check, so right now I'm curled up on the futon watching Three's Company and trying to work up the guts to double check my room. I don't know what I'll do if it IS still in there, since I'm completely alone now and have no one around to help me.
This sucks. My landlord is going to get a VERY unpleasant phone call in a few hours.
Naturally, I was shocked. It looked like a mouse until it unfolded its wings, squeezed out, and started flapping around my room. That's when I started screaming. I can't believe my roommate didn't hear me. If anyone DOES ever break into my room I'm going to have a serious problem, because apparently I'm incommunicado from my corner of the apartment. When she didn't come to my rescue, I called my parents. I felt bad, because it was so early in the morning and they live two hours away so they couldn't do anything, but I had no idea who else to call.
While they tried to calm me down and offer suggestions I wrapped myself in my comforter for protection and ran out of the room. The bat had gotten out as well and was fluttering around the kitchen and living room. We have two front doors; there's the one that leads outside, a little entrance area, and another door. I propped open the second one with a folded-up card table, but I couldn't find anything to prop open the second one while I tried to chase out the bat. I ended up running into my roommate's room and waking her up. Turns out she's no help because she's terrified of bats, so she called one of her frat boy friends.
He came over and THINKS he saw something fly past him when he opened the front door,and after a pretty thorough search of the apartment and couldn't find the bat. He left, and my roommate went with him, but of course I can't sleep. I never saw the bat leave and he only thinks he saw something fly out. I keep hearing random clicking and scratching noises that I'm not sure are just normal house noises or if it means the bat is still in here. I closed my bedroom door after they left-I'm in the living room and I was just too creeped out to leave all the doors open and leave myself open to attacks-so for all I know he's flying around in there again but I'm too scared to check, so right now I'm curled up on the futon watching Three's Company and trying to work up the guts to double check my room. I don't know what I'll do if it IS still in there, since I'm completely alone now and have no one around to help me.
This sucks. My landlord is going to get a VERY unpleasant phone call in a few hours.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
I AM BACK IN WINONA! HOORAY! Except not really...I mean, I am happy to be back. I love Eagan, but I needed a change of scenery. However, I've only been here for four days and I'm already bored out of my mind. I'm also broke, so I really have nothing to do besides job hunt, which I've mainly been doing online because it's so damn hot out. I'll start tutoring once school starts, but that's a month away. I can't go without a paycheck for that long. I'm hoping that if I do find a job soon they'd be okay with me drastically cutting my hours back once school starts, because two jobs, two clubs, and five classes might drive me insane otherwise.
Because of my lack of employment, I've just been stuck at my new apartment. I still have mixed feelings on this place. It's definitely an improvement on dorm life. I don't have to share a bathroom with thirty other girls. I have free laundry and a washing machine. My bedroom is pretty big. On the other hand, it's not air conditioned so the air is really humid and musty and gross. It's a basement level apartment so I've encountered more spiders than I wanted to. I waged war on my room with a can of raid, but I don't know how long that will hold them off. My roommate and I get along well enough, but she is obsessed with frat boys so that's basically all she talks about. I'm hoping the place will be more comfortable and less gross-smelling and all the bugs and spiders will die and leave me alone once summer is over.
Aaaand...that's about it for now.
Because of my lack of employment, I've just been stuck at my new apartment. I still have mixed feelings on this place. It's definitely an improvement on dorm life. I don't have to share a bathroom with thirty other girls. I have free laundry and a washing machine. My bedroom is pretty big. On the other hand, it's not air conditioned so the air is really humid and musty and gross. It's a basement level apartment so I've encountered more spiders than I wanted to. I waged war on my room with a can of raid, but I don't know how long that will hold them off. My roommate and I get along well enough, but she is obsessed with frat boys so that's basically all she talks about. I'm hoping the place will be more comfortable and less gross-smelling and all the bugs and spiders will die and leave me alone once summer is over.
Aaaand...that's about it for now.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
la la la long post
My sister found an old CD case of mine. In the very back of it was a recording of the 2006 Dakota Valley Choral Festival, this big district high school choir concert I was in my senior year. I'm listening to it right now and it is making me miss choir SO much. I'm sitting here, mouthing along to the words that I still remember after four years, choking up a bit. I LOVED choir. I loved singing. It was such a big part of my life all through high school. It helped me become more confident, or at least, it taught me how to pretend that I was confident. It taught me that I was allowed to be loud and proud.
I remember the first day of choir, singing this song with a simple melody in a round, and being amazed that I could be a part of something so beautiful. I remember the first time I auditioned for Encore, my high school's musical variety show, my voice shaky and breathy and nearly inaudible and my face pink and hot and tense. I remember the last year I auditioned for Encore, grinning from ear to ear and revelling in the gorgeous (I know that sounds a little conceited, sorry) sound coming out of my mouth. I remember, while practicing for my last voice recital, my voice teacher tearfully commenting on how far I'd come from being the girl terrified of her own voice. I remember thinking that the feeling I got every time I sang was the closest I'd ever get to flying. Each song was like two or three minutes of invincibility.
I was in choir my first year of college, too. I even made it into concert choir, which really didn't mean too much. There are only two choirs at WSU: concert choir and women's chorus. If you're a girl who sings a little above average or a boy who can't sing at all you can make it into concert choir. I was happy that music was still a part of my life, but it was so intimidating singing with all the music majors, people who planned on making a career out of singing. I suck at sight reading music (the director even told me so after my audition, although he phrased it a little more politely), so that combined with my insecurity about singing with real musicians made it feel like I had reverted back to the nervous fourteen-year-old who was too scared to let anyone around her hear her. The director was no help at all. He singled me out more than once for screwing up. He even accused me of not practicing enough, which really pissed me off. I was practicing three times a week, which was a decent amount for a one credit class that had nothing to do with my major. Hell, most of the music majors don't even practice that much. At the end of the year, I was so frustrated and embarrassed that I decided not to continue choir. Even if I had wanted to, I didn't have room for it in my schedule.
Ever since I stopped singing, I've felt like a chunk of my life is gone. I know I'm being dramatic, but really, there is nothing like belting out a song at the top of your lungs if you're stressed. Choir and voice lessons were like therapy. Yes, they both had their frustrating points, and I was often pushed far out of my comfort zone, but they helped shape me into who I am right now. I'm not an incredibly outgoing person, but I know I've come out of my shell, and I know singing was responsible for that. I can sing in the car and the shower all I want, but it's not the same as doing it in front of an audience. I was hardly a diva, but it was a good feeling, showing someone that deep down I am capable of producing something loud and clear and lovely. I loved surprising them.
I could write a hundred more pages about how much I love and miss singing, but all the words in all the languages in the world aren't enough to describe the feeling it gave me, and the feeling its absence gives me now, so I'll just leave it at this one quote by Victor Hugo that sums it up:
"Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and cannot remain silent."
I remember the first day of choir, singing this song with a simple melody in a round, and being amazed that I could be a part of something so beautiful. I remember the first time I auditioned for Encore, my high school's musical variety show, my voice shaky and breathy and nearly inaudible and my face pink and hot and tense. I remember the last year I auditioned for Encore, grinning from ear to ear and revelling in the gorgeous (I know that sounds a little conceited, sorry) sound coming out of my mouth. I remember, while practicing for my last voice recital, my voice teacher tearfully commenting on how far I'd come from being the girl terrified of her own voice. I remember thinking that the feeling I got every time I sang was the closest I'd ever get to flying. Each song was like two or three minutes of invincibility.
I was in choir my first year of college, too. I even made it into concert choir, which really didn't mean too much. There are only two choirs at WSU: concert choir and women's chorus. If you're a girl who sings a little above average or a boy who can't sing at all you can make it into concert choir. I was happy that music was still a part of my life, but it was so intimidating singing with all the music majors, people who planned on making a career out of singing. I suck at sight reading music (the director even told me so after my audition, although he phrased it a little more politely), so that combined with my insecurity about singing with real musicians made it feel like I had reverted back to the nervous fourteen-year-old who was too scared to let anyone around her hear her. The director was no help at all. He singled me out more than once for screwing up. He even accused me of not practicing enough, which really pissed me off. I was practicing three times a week, which was a decent amount for a one credit class that had nothing to do with my major. Hell, most of the music majors don't even practice that much. At the end of the year, I was so frustrated and embarrassed that I decided not to continue choir. Even if I had wanted to, I didn't have room for it in my schedule.
Ever since I stopped singing, I've felt like a chunk of my life is gone. I know I'm being dramatic, but really, there is nothing like belting out a song at the top of your lungs if you're stressed. Choir and voice lessons were like therapy. Yes, they both had their frustrating points, and I was often pushed far out of my comfort zone, but they helped shape me into who I am right now. I'm not an incredibly outgoing person, but I know I've come out of my shell, and I know singing was responsible for that. I can sing in the car and the shower all I want, but it's not the same as doing it in front of an audience. I was hardly a diva, but it was a good feeling, showing someone that deep down I am capable of producing something loud and clear and lovely. I loved surprising them.
I could write a hundred more pages about how much I love and miss singing, but all the words in all the languages in the world aren't enough to describe the feeling it gave me, and the feeling its absence gives me now, so I'll just leave it at this one quote by Victor Hugo that sums it up:
"Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and cannot remain silent."
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