purell.

It’s 1:30 am.

I just applied for my first nursing job.

My chances of getting this job?

1 in 13,000

I did it anyway

and

it felt good.

(i think)

Life is kind of intense right now. Everyone has so many expectations ((or maybe it’s just me, projecting my expectations of myself onto other people, who I then imagine are projecting them back onto myself. Probably this.))

Nursing will be great, but with graduation so close, and so many perceived or non perceived expectations, I’m finding myself wondering if it really will be great. Honestly, I’m kind of scared. Especially after today, when at clinical ((thinking I was being an awesome nurse in training)) I put together this little bundle o’ toiletries to make my young patient more comfortable, but accidentally gave her lubricant gel instead of Vasoline. The mother was mildly pissed, thinking it was hand sanitizer that she just put in her daughter’s hair. I assured her it was not hand sanitizer, but even though the package clearly read “Lubricant Gel” she could not be convinced otherwise. Lubricant Gel/Vasoline what’s the difference!? It is HUGE apparently. The mom? Not happy. No mind the other 500 (exaggeration) things I did for her daughter, at this point, it was all about the “Purell.” …whoops…

Make my chances of getting the job I applied for 1 in 15,000.

Crap. Am I stressed? …. … I think I’m stressed.

What I need to do is make a plan for my life. Maybe a list would make me feel better. Lists always make me feel a little better, because secretly, even though it probably seems that I do most things on a whim or make all my decisions last minute; the truth is, I like a little organization.

(Real life) Plans after graduation aka The “to do list”:

0. Get out of Bal’mer.

1. Epic road trip with my buddy and her pup… See things in the US that I’ve never gotten around to seeing:

a. yellowstone b. moab c. glacier national park d. the grand canyon e. yosemite

2. Hike through India. Visit some ngo’s and find future wish list employers:

a. mother theresa’s missionaries of charity? b. birthing center, goa? c. awwa? d. find out how to start my own clinic?

3. Secure a job/continue education in either:

a. seattle (UW)  b. portland (OHSU) c. denver (UC) d. boston (harvard) e. philly (u penn)

4. move to to where my job/school is.

5. live there. try really hard to stay put and stop moving

6. join a club- commitment(???).

a. join a real club b. make up a club and force all my friends to join.

Okay… there’s my five year plan in in six easy steps. …feeling good….

numero 14, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

it snowed today in baltimore, which is so weird, because earlier this week, it was in the 50’s.

–

i was totally unprepared; mentally, that is. physically, i was all over it. i should have been studying for my pharmacology final which is monday, and which is pretty intimidating. however, there is something so luringly distracting about those perfect white flakes.

i knew i had to study, but really, i just wanted to watch the snow.

unfortunately, my desk is no longer situated in front of the window…

you understand then, why i could not study at my desk. instead, i had to open the blinds and lay out in front of the window to study/snow flake watch.

all that watching while, laying and reading (with christmas music, candles, and soup on the stove) made me quite sleepy.

i then had to nap.

after I woke up, i was full of energy; not the energy that makes you want to breeze through 5 chapters of cardiac this and that, but the kind of energy that makes you want to be outside- skipping and whistling or something fabulously immature like that…

so all bundled up; gloves, hat, coat, scarf, ipod,

i left my books and studied the snow in downtown baltimore instead.

it was quite lovely, and as of december 5th 2009,  11:56 pm

i do not regret it one bit.

sleepy random thoughts #10

This evening I happen to be very tired, and my tired-ness makes me not want to blog about happy things.

I’d rather lay on my bed, close my eyes, and hum to some good tunes- allowing my mind to be completely free of debilitating heart catastrophes and the drugs that fix them. At this point, I’d take just about anything that would allow me to be completely idle…slothful…lazy… you pick the adjective. This is very unlike me, so this is how I know I am ready for the semester to end.

Don’t mistake my words though. I promise I’m not complaining… I’m just saying. With my fruity Teavana (my new obsession, thanks to Ashley) tea, raspberry candle, and Pandora set to Sufjan, I’m actually feeling quite peaceful… unless I’m confusing peacefulness with fatigue. This is a possibility.

Oh, I just thought of something nice that happened:

Today the weather was beautiful. Absolutely. The sky was brilliant, a stark contrast to the gray and rain that soaked the city yesterday.

And so it was, as is my ritual before every exam, I took the elevator up to the ninth floor of the School of Public Health, found a seat with a view of the harbor in the distance and set to work. I read until I was pretty convinced that I could not read another word, so I packed up my notes, my empty coffee mug, my smart glasses, and all those neon highlighters and biked home, taking in all the warm and happy December (whaatt?!?!) weather.

Tomorrow is a long day, I have my first final (yay- happy!!) followed by a career fair, followed a two hour class, followed by going over my presentation, followed by giving my presentation.

Makes me pretty sleepy just to think about it: However, with each day I finish, it brings me one day closer to Christmas break- which means seeing my Summer! 8 days!! Expect the real count down to Summer to start tomorrow!

And there you have it. I thought I could not do it, but it looks as though I have! Wow! Look at how positive blogging, jumbled, haphazard, as it may be, has made my evening happier. I like taking time to think about the good things.

I have a smile on my face.

letter for you, neighbor.

** Yes, this will be hanging on the little clip on her/his door.**

Dear Neighbor who lives in the apartment above me,

Hello! You don’t know me, but I live directly below you, in fact, I’m 99% sure that your bedroom is RIGHT above mine, and because the layout of this room is so weird, your bed is also probably in a very similar spot. So hey! We practically know each other, which is good, except for the fact that  you and I are having some major issues, and I thought we might try and clear them up in case we actually meet face to face someday.  You don’t want me to give you the stink eye. (I’m passive aggressive like that.)

You see, it’s like this. You’re kind of driving me crazy because you’re making me tired.  I’m a full time nursing student so I need sleep like I never have before. I need at least 7 .5 hours and you are making this an impossible goal. My ears feel irritated, and dark circles are forming under my eyes…  and it’s because I wake up early every morning since you moved in.

You thump. I stare at the ceiling. I grumble to no one in particular (since you can’t hear me) I calmly ask, “Are. You. Serious?” Sometimes, less calmly, I add, “SERIOUSLY!?”  and I might pull my covers over my head (no, it does not help- it just feels dramatic) depending on how tired I am. But I consider myself a nice person, so I want to give you the benefit of the doubt.

I don’t think you want to intentionally make my mornings a little miserable, but there are possible bad habits which are causing a real rift in our apartment neighbor relationship.

I have tried to imagine what the heck is happening up there that creates the noise your feet make when they THUD! THUD! THUD!! directly above my sleepy head. Here’s what I’ve come up with:

1. You have a vigorous morning exercise ritual. You do several jumping jacks in the morning at your bedside.

2. You have a vigorous morning exercise ritual. You jump in place, then do laps around your bed.

3. Your bed posts are really high- like three feet off the ground- high, so you literally jump off your bed in the morning… but then you decide to make the jumping down and climbing back up part of that exercising, so you do it several times every morning.

Also, I should mention… I noticed you vacuum most nights at about 11:30 pm. Why?  Oh, and how could I forget, you open then slam your dresser drawers shut. Are you angry at your clothes?

Might I suggest?

1. Use the apartment gym to exercise. It’s  practically right out side our apartment door! You can run, you can do jumping jacks and you can even lift some weights.

2. Hang up your clothes or if you really hate them so much, take them all out of your drawers and give them to Goodwill.

3. Tennis balls. I figure I can lay them on the pillow next to me and when you get a little  out of control with the exercising, I can chuck them at the ceiling as a gentle  reminder for you to get yourself to the gym!

Be well and please, less stomping, it’s driving me crazy,

Rachel

bawl’more hon!

say hello to the notorious “BALTIMORE, THE GREATEST CITY IN AMERICA” benches! they are scattered all over the city. charming, yet so utterly inaccurate.

my new neighborhood- LOVE the urban trees! for joy! it’s the local commie book/coffe/vegan/ cafe! free internet, surprisingly good music. lots of lively debate. though my motives may be tainted by the free internet, i still am liking the atmosphere and will probably come back for snacks occasionally when my internet is up and running!

ps. i started my new blog at my school’s site so you can hear about all my lovely adventures in nursing school! i’ll post the linkage either here…or somewhere else soon!

bye!

the time which i have found that i experience with all too much familiarity is quickly approaching.

i hate saying goodbye…so much so, that i usually barely even do. when i know i won’t see someone for a very long time, i usually say “bye”, in the same manner i would if i was going to the grocery store to pick up some hummus. it’s quick, it’s sweet, it’s not sad. i mean, i will be right back. only in this case, the ‘right’, is pretty much relative.

so it’s time to say ‘be right back’ to my roommates. i think a time of reminiscing is appropriate here, so when we start to feel sad about the separate ways that we all eventually go, we can think back and laugh.

and no worries, i will try really hard NOT to embarrass anyone… though i can think of some really funny stories involving- the not using of razors and purple sweatshirt/dresses. i still laugh about this randomly.

also, driving to school in 5 degree weather with the windows down. why? you totally know.

then there was the recent night when after painting mini canvases, we decided our kitchen table needed a little more color. now our table is full of what i call “girl graffiti”.  there are hearts, flowers, a random horse, a bird with disproportionate legs, and “ben + alison = love 4 eva” tagged. it’s quite a sight, and i will be sad to not see it.

but when you get real sad, think of men who hate having their bangs cut- they will  both randomly and continuously shout while everyone else is studying or pretending to be studying; “I HATE MY HAIR!”

tall beautiful blond women are apparently very persuasive.

…or there’s our exercise bike.

i think it was bekah’s grandparent’s bike from the 50’s? not sure, but it’s real old. back in the day, i think things were made to last, so our little exercise bike, keeps on going, and we sporadically keep using it. as good as it is for a workout, there’s one thing it might be even better for. and that- is a chair. maybe it’s because i’m short. maybe it’s because i’m fidgety. maybe it’s because i love biking, and it makes me think of my time in portland. but whatever the reason. i prefer sitting on the bike to the floor-couch.

it’s like a bar stool with pedals. awesome.

so there we were one night hanging out… and because i use the bike for a chair, it seemed perfectly reasonable for me to sit in it while eating chocolate and  drinking red wine- look! no hands! (yes, i’m that talented!)  i didn’t honestly think that my simultaneous pedaling/eating would cancel out my sugar consumption, but for whatever reason, like i said, it seemed like a good idea… not weird at all. i was alone in that thought. apparently, sitting on your stool/bike while eating food, is odd? it’s not like i’d do it at the gym, (unless i was real famished?) that’s my only defense.

so… happy memories, good times, and hooray for social networks that allow us to be nosey without guilt and stay superficially connected!

read me.

“Human nature will not flourish, any m ore than a potato, if it be planted and replanted, for too long a series of generation, in the same worn-out soil. My children have had other birthplaces, and, so far as their fortunes may be within my control, shall strike their roots into unaccustomed earth.”

-Nathaniel Hawthorne

i’ve been reading jhumpa lahiri’s book “unaccustomed earth” this week. it’s been an intersting read. definitely not your feel good, laugh out loud, kind of book. it’s a compilation of eight short stories which give accounts from just about every perspective, of being torn between being “american” and being bengali at the same time. it’s a book about ignorance, disappointment,  betrayal, expectations, love, death, grief, and greed. it’s depressing. but i’m intrigued anyway. i guess most of the intriguing stories are that way…depressing, raw, and real.

as i was reading i kept thinking back to nathanial hawthorne’s quote that prefaces the stories that followed. when i opened this book and read it, i thought “exactly!” but i’m thinking the book isn’t a reinforcement of the beauty of this idea. though, hawthorne’s qoute still resonates with me, i am sobered by the reality of the sacrifce that comes with planting potatoes in new soil. i’m the second generation in my familys uprooting, and i must admit, though i am thankful for the opportunities being “american” has afforded me, there is a loss that can not be recompensed when ones culture is detached, taken, or lost in some way. not that everyone’s experience is the same, but being in america, (depending on where you’re from, the extreme depends on your geographical location!) i’ve been asked if i was “even born here”, and asked if i was everything from: chinese to iranian, israeli, puerto rican, phillipino, native american, and most recently eastern european. weird! i know. but going to korea, with only half asian eyes that are green and slightly frizzy brown hair, as opposed to dark almond eyes, and sleek black hair- not to mention i only can speak about 6 words in korean… i definitely stood out. also weird situation.

not that this is all negative, my experience, though sad in some respects is also unique and beautiful and privileged in it’s own way. i mean i grew up eating kimchee and our house smelled like ginger and spices and the first time i had subway i was 18. when i go home i get served seaweed soup… don’t turn your nose at me. it’s good.

unacustomed earth.

i can’t wait to travel to scotland and ireland some day. the only physical thing i’ll have in common with that part of my heritage is my last name and green eyes.

oh unacustomed earth.

oh potatoes.

my life is getting progressively

less ( this was at twenty-something credits, and three labs to boot)

and less (wait. this looks like more…) … (also note the random ‘art’… yes, that is the washington monument on saturday. i was planning to see it with mark and kelly)

(ehemmm) and less…

what the?!? i didn’t cross everything out!! this is very unlike me… i find joy in crossing out my “accomplishments”…(inconsequential as they may be) such as… put card in the mailbox! (check!) and what is this!? i’m dyslexic when it comes to writing in my planner!  notice: 5:45 class gym. i mean “5:45 gym class” you will also occasionally see mixed up word orders and puncatuation… “plane ticket book” or “27 chapter do”  “1 15: !appointment ” why do i write like a cave man with dsylexia? i have no clue.

heh, heh, heh, at least i’m the only one who reads it and i know what mean i.

but i digress so back to….

and even more less…

hectic! boo-yah!! one class left before my break that is before my 13.5 months of non breaking and my obama-ized planner being filled to the edges of the pages…

then i’m backpacking the world. period the end.

oh and PS… for those of you not familiar with  Summer-inspired rhetoric such as: “period the end.” it is roughly translated…”this is truth. absolutely. ((and don’t even try to fight me on the issue because i’m serious…seriously!”

blog.

the pang of heartache. therein…somewhere, lies forgiveness.

i feel at a loss for words
not for a lack of them
but because I am searching
for the right
ones…

i was going to write a witty little thing
that would make you laugh

about the snow
about the cold
about the inevitably
clumsy situations
i often find myself
in

however,
(and there is almost always a however)
it seems we learn to hide behind
the things that make us laugh

so it was after I almost slipped on the ice
for the third time that day
or after
i stood in awe of the icicles
that attach themselves to the
gutters

when I made unnecessary tracks
in the drifts of snow
piled carelessly on the side of the road.

i exhaled out the bitter air.
somehow, in my own way
embracing the
numbing chill that filled my lungs
and stung my skin

i thought about how i
enjoy
the sound of silence
that snowflakes make
when they fall

navigating through
convoluted thoughts
i wondered
at the concept of
remorse
and asked myself if it can
negate the pains inflicted

can such a response
elicit
a lonely satisfaction
that stems from your guilt?

because anger has given way
to loss.
(though understanding
still evades me)

is this
acceptance
of the deeds
that have been done?

or is this what the beginning of
what forgiveness looks like?

i have a problem… (to my future roommates)

and it goes something like this:

i’m the antithetical king midas. if you remember the story, it went something like this: everything he touched, turned to gold. there’s a good moral to the story in the end, but with this metaphor i’m only using the beginning part where everything he touches, turns into something “better” (not truly, but go with it). here is why i am the polar opposite, diametrically opposed, the antithesis of the one who seems to have the gift, that i do not (metaphorically, that is)

everything i touch… breaks. seriously.

i moved out of my roomates place on sunday, and her and i exchanged cards… after i told her what a fabulous roomie she was and how i was going to miss her,  i then began my list…

“i’m sorry i broke:”

two mini glasses

the conditioner lid dispenser thing

two bowls

your rake

two glass soap dispensers

——————————————————–

today in denver, we had a few errands to run. i had to get a new battery for my broken cell phone, i had to stop at the camera store to see if they knew what was wrong with the camera i got for christmas, i had to stop at the eye glass store to see if they could fix the glasses i stepped on, and lastly… i spent most of the morning on the phone with my insurace company trying to get a rental car to replace the one that ended up at the bottom of some ditch in colorado.

…at 80 mph she was reaching for her cell phone that had dropped on the passanger floor and she literally rammed my little toyota off the road where we catapulted, yes, catapulted sideways-ish to the bottom of a 30 foot embankment…

now we are stuck, and so to be productive in my stuck-ed-ness… one by one, i’m trying to fix my broken things…

and i’m trying to figure out… if it’s me.

the glasses? me. don’t lay your glasses on the stairs. bad spot. the camera?  not me. the phone, maybe me, but maybe not. i always thougth it was so resilient, i’ve dropped that baby more times than i can count but then one day it just stopped turning on…  the car? totally not me- phew!! the soap dispensers? they were in a bad spot- seriously! they were always sitting so precariously on the edge of the sink.  the conditioner bottle? it too, very precarious, that is. my elbow hit it ALL the time!  the bowls, i’m short and had to reach REAL high. kinda my fault.  drinking glasses? they just broke, quite random, but probably my fault. rake? definitely me. never shovel snow with rakes by the way- it’s a bad idea.

to my future roommates, if you are reading this. i am SORRY in advance because i will most likely break stuff.  but i promise i always replace what i’ve broken. to protect yourself, (and me from guilt!) do not lend me your things, because seriously, if there’s a time when your i pod is going to randomly break down, for no apparent reason, other than the fact that i touched it… it will.

mucho loves.

me.

by the way

here’s a piece of advice for you, i’m done with all my “christmas present” blogs… so think of it as a stocking stuffer…

NEVER buy gluten free vegan frosting.

you will feel like you’re icing your chocolate-choclate chip vegan gluten free cake that you worked so flilpping hard on… with gum mixed with super glue.

skip the frosting buy some soy ice cream, throw it on top, and call it good.

the lion the witch and the wardrobe…hit p town.

if i tried, i could probably think of a way better comparison than this, but with each new week of science (though i am thoroughly enjoying it!) my creativity dwindles…

ever watch or read “the lion the witch and the wardrobe”, if so, you will remember the part where lucy makes her way through the wardrobe and finds herself not at the end of the wardrobe, but in a icy wintery land.

when i look out my window to the drive way, the street, to my car…where the heck is my car?! oh yes, under the snow, to the trees, oh and also, to the sky, i see snow, snow, and more and more SNOW.  it’s just like the movie. this perpetual winter. one week of snow baby… it’s getting old.

i’m from the pacific northwest. i tell you, in my 26 years this has not happened, or if it did, i was a baby and don’t remember OR i was innocently enjoying freedom from school and building snowmen and eating snow.

so last week, three of my very close friends came to visit, and me, never really watching tv anyway, and being glued to my textbooks for finals did not even know that snow was supposed to be coming! i just woke up one morning and it was there! it hit me like a wall (on the back of a wardrobe) or wait, it hit me NOT like a wall in the back of a wardrobe, but like a secret snow land where the wall in the back of the wardrobe was supposed to be.

i was utterly astonished at first, but in the same way that lucy finds out pretty quick that icy wintery snowy lands are not all fun and snowballs and snowangels, but instead are more like one-half-goat people who try to sell you out to icy witches who want your brother to sell you out for some turkish delight- i too, quickly found that it is not all fun and games.. .instead i learned that portland does not have a efficient system for road clearing (understandable but for some reason shocking!) or salting or pebbling or whatever it is you snow city experts do…and so i was stuck, jenni was stuck, then we were free, then we were back and unstuck, then jenni and chan were both stuck, but now they are free. also, portlanders seem to have an aversion or indifference to young gorgeous women who get stuck in a snow storm and need to hitchhike up a hill. seriously p towners!

there are a lot of hills around here…

there are also a lot of snow drifts, and today there is also ice… on top of the snow. so it’s like 2 inches of ice, then 6 inches or so of fluffly snow, then about a centimeter of ice… it’s like a snow hamburger…with two icy buns. today i fell through the icy bun, into a snow drift, that was disguised so cunningly as ummm.. not deep snow. the snow fell into my right galosh and it was not long after this that i shook my fist at the sky (i didn’t actually shake my fist, but the emotion was there) and i yelled to the clouds… “I HATE ALASKAAAAAA!!!!!!”

i know, i know, i’m in portland, but at this point… portland, narnia, alaska… what’s the difference??

bah humbug?? nahhh…

though i am in danger of sounding borderline scrooge-ie, i must admit, I HATE THE SNOW. this girl is in no way shape or form, dreaming of a white Christmas.

snow= snowed in=bored=scared to drive=can’t drive to yakima=sucks!=cabin fever=too much computer=lame, lame, lame.

wow does it feel good to get that one out… don’t get me wrong, the stuff is nice to look at. its calming even… when you wake in the morning, groggy, still half asleep, disheveled hair and all, stumbling down the stairs, to watch it gently and without a sound, float to the earth, covering everything in a soft blanket of white. but it gets old. real fast. like as soon as you realize it’s not going to stop anytime soon and it’s going to make the roads undriveable, fast.

after two days of being snowed in, which included two attempts to drive out, (unsuccessful-obviusly) with much tire squeeling and sliding backwards, and one very eventful cold, and almost tearful trek through the storm to attempt to buy chains with no successs, we were rescued by my superhero roommate and her superhero fiance who bought chains for me. as soon as superhero roomate’s fiance meticulsouly (ha) put my chains on,  jenni and i tore out of portland… okay that’s a bit of an exaggeration, “tore out” looked more like slowly and carefully making our way up the two mile hill, where 7 mph and 20 minutes later we made it to the freeway where we experienced FREEDOM!! freedom from the white stuff. it was a great feeling to not see those annoying little flakes whirl around, looking so innocent. we knew better.

currently, i am sitting in a sweet coffee shop in good old Tacoma, cringing with each snow flake, and hoping and praying that they will keep melting when they hit the pavement. thank you jesus for thermometers that read 37º! take that wannabe horrible snowy snow!!

ho ho ho…

good morning snow! you are so innocent and pretty when i am in a half asleep confused state.

since i could no longer resist.

i have fought it for two years now… but with some shame, i must admit that during thanksgiving break, i finally succumbed.

she’s in skinny jeans people and NO, they do not actually make you look skinnier. just your ankles.

so hooray for skinny ankles and for letting your skinny-jean-hating-devotee-self be worn down as you stand by and watch as one by one those you hold dearest, give in without remorse.

crap. i can’t believe that i let the fashion market redefine what i actually consider wearable. they are so relentless. i guess it happens to the best of us? i do have my limits… (cough cough, fake throat clearing, ‘summer’)

but my skinny jeans? they’re just so darn cute.

st. alice.

today shlomy and i decided to go up to the mountains for the day and do a “beginners hike” on st. mary’s glacier. notice the contradiction/oxymoron in that sentence? “beginners hike on a glacier”… that’s as nonsensical as double bacon cheeseburger loving vegan. yah, doesn’t work… at all. so we started up hill feeling slightly drunk on account of the elevation gain, stopping occasionally for hydration breaks to curb the tipsy. once we got the the base of st. mary’s we strapped on the snow shoes and started out, making a horizontal trek across the glacier. problem number one: this is when i noticed the paw prints. “shlomy! there are polar bears here! do you see these paw prints!? those are polar bear paw prints for sure!!” raaaachel (placating voice) those aren’t polar bear prints!” “omigosh, they totally are!” i explained to him about how once on national geographic i saw a special on polar bears where i learned that if you actually see the polar bear and the polar bear sees you, you are basically already a dead man. we were wearing bright colors so we would be dead for sure.

(this is where shlomy is literally asking me if i am really sure that i want to admit that i actually thought there were polar bears in colorado…i matter of factly inform him that i have no shame when it comes to my blogs, not only that, but if my friends who read my blog can ask about the possibility of foot transplants or pretzels being made of vegetables, than i am quite sure that i have nothing to fear in being myself here).

but back to the glacier.

problem number two. so there shlomy and i are trekking across the glacier, and i am pooped, and as much as i want to make it to the top, i also don’t care about getting to the top, because i really just want to get back to the car and blast the hot air and take off the heavy boots that are strapped to my feet, and bust into that sweet sweet chocolate… but that said, shlomy so enthusiastically states, “we got this far, we can’t turn back now! hey, rae are you tired, wanna stop?” yah, err. uh-huh. i’m supposed to answer that, how? yah, that’s what i thought…we kept trekking.

however, it was not too long before i am realizing that actually, this glacier seems really steep. like really steep. maybe it happened when my foot slipped, maybe it happened when i realized i had my hands in front of me, and with my hands in front of me, i was actually touching the glacier, maybe it happened when i turned around and realized if i actually fell, i might die. and if i didn’t die, i would be writhing in pain. writhing.

at this point, the panic began to set in, and when i say that panic ‘set in’ it actually sounded something like (g rated), “i’m going to diiiiieeeeeee… freaking freak freak freak! i’m in colorado on a glacier and i’m going to diiiiiiieieeee!!! i don’t want to diiiiieeee!!! i haaaatttteee you!!!! this was sooo stupid!! we’re going to diiiieeee!!”

so yah, we didn’t die. we made it down okay, and my dreams of warm cozy car, and yum chocolate, and free feet were eventually realized.

life update. siskel and ebert give this blog, two thumbs up.

action!

it occurred to me the other day, that my unceasing ambivalence, which follows the seemingly endless droves of information, thoughts, and plans that are read, daydreamed, and researched… has a source. admittedly, immaturity and fear of failure definitely play a part,  but there is also the very likely chance, that the source of this indecisiveness that is me, is resulting from the knowledge that life here is pretty much like a non reality. i say this because it’s completely true, and if there is something true to be said about things that are not real, it should at least be true things.

statistics (i finished last week- oh yahhhh!), anatomy and physiology, chemistry, and microbiology- all with labs, simultaneously, in an unfamiliar town, with lots of rain (my leaves are almost gone), and my nearest friend about 2 hours away feels a bit like something out of a movie… a horror movie without the gore. wait, i take that back, a+p is a little gorey at times. living in what feels like a real life movie set, is no fun… especially when the genre is not comedy, and it’s not inspirational (okay, i totally made up “inspirational”, i don’t think that’s really a movie genre, but if it were, and i was an actress, i’d want to be in an “inspirational” movie… okay, maybe ‘indie inspirational comedy.”

but enough about that, i give this movie, at least one thumb down. (one thumb up, because i’m working on being positive.)

but seriously, did i mention my aversion to science?

in case you didn’t know, i have an aversion to science. i also don’t like numbers. i prefer words and books and trees.

did i already mention that 6 out of 7 days a week, i wake up wondering what/why/how/ i am doing what i do, and if i should do it? answer every day: i have no clue, just do it, someday you’ll thank yourself- followed by some exasperated whining.

roll the freaking cameras.

in light of the revelation that occurred to me, i would like to say that i have it all figured out. psychoanalyzing one’s self can at times be helpful, i’m sure… but undoubtedly, if i told you exactly what i thought right now about tomorrow or next summer, inevitably the plans would change, and you would be disappointed and i would have to retract, and i so dislike retractions and disappointments. i would much rather admit that i am indelibly flawed (not in a self effacing way, but more like a self aware accepting way) anyway, though i have no idea what i am doing in the grand scheme of things, i do know this for SURE…  tomorrow, i have a brutal amount of homework to finish; a plethora of information on microbes to retain, as well as a lot of contemplating to do regarding joining the real word again.

cut.

so a leaf walks into a bar…

i’m eating raisins again. i don’t know why i like them so much, it just seems that lately, when evening rolls around, and i’m studying, or thinking about studying, or thinking that i should be thinking more about studying, i start craving them.  i’m also using my old peanut butter jar to drink from again. it’s the best glass ever. i highly recommend using old peanut butter jars for glasses….everything- my morning smoothie, water, and even merlot are amazingly tasty in my recycled marantatha crunchy and roasted peanut butter jar.  however, much as i’d like to tell you more about my glass this blog is not about my crunchy peanut butter jar of merlot… it’s about leaves.

and with that said

i don’t actually have much to say, considering the fact that i’ve been crazy busy with school work the last week… it was insanity. more insane than merlot in a peanut butter jar paired with a handful of raisens. however, no matter how busy my life gets, in the midst of the never ending chemistry equations, and the missing everyone, and the tears, and the highlighters that ran out of ink again, and the flashcards, i have found, that it grounds me and changes my self pitying perspective, when i stop to admire the leaves.

portland in the fall is beautiful.

and now i am lamenting the fact that i lost my camera in London, because every time i see the leaves in the valley, or the leaves on the PSU campus, or the leaves of the maples that line downtown, or the leaves on the tree outside my door, i miss my camera. i wish i could describe to you how beautiful the leaves are…the decidious trees mixed in with all the evergreens and the pink sun-setting sky. it’s unreal. the leaves are yellow, orange, all shades of green, and then there are the bright red leaves. oh the red leaves. i love the red leaves.

but that’s not all, there’s also the crunch. the sound of the leaves beneath my feet. the air is crisp and i can see it when i breathe out, and even though it’s cold, and i don’t like being cold, it doesn’t seem so bad, on account of the leaves.

i was walking through the PSU campus last week, which if you have ever been there you will understand this; in the middle there are trees and green and benches and beauty! so last week, with my stomach in knots, i was approaching the library to meet with my chemistry tutor… but when i made it past the buildings and entered the middle greenery i had to stop. i’m sure i looked quite ridiculous, standing there, then walking slowly looking to the sky, but i couldn’t help myself. everywhere- all around me was beauty and i was so completely captured by it,that i forgot that i was anxious and stressed about balancing molecular equations or remembering how many charges are in Na.

so here is my advice to you. not that i’m minimizing any of the stresses in your life, or any of your pain, or whatever, but i’ll just say it. it is highly doubtful to me, that there are many things worse than chemistry. that said, if stopping to admire the leaves can make school work less daunting, and make me stand in absolute awe of beauty, then it must be a worthwhile activity.

yes. leaf watching=activity.

a series of unfortunate events…

while this may seem to be merely a list (ordered from least to most unfortunate), of my whining and complaining, be assured that this is actually for YOUR (yes you) benefit. trust me, the next time you think you’re having a bad day just reread this blog and you’ll feel all blessed and happy and thankful, and then you will realize that you were probably just over reacting- not that i’m “minimizing” the ‘unfortunate’ circumstances you may find yourself in… i’m just saying yo… 

arrival to London.

7. jet lag

6. terrible exchange rates. dollars have about as much value as cassette tapes or VHS tapes for that matter.

5. please see previous post, “weather today in heaven, partly cloudy.”

4. getting stung by two british bees. (numb leg, tinglely leg, red leg, numb leg, stingy leg)

3. taxi rides from the airport that cost approximately $120.

.2 waiting in the airport for five hours for my friend (sum’s new nanny) who was…

1. deported- back to the US

 

feeling better? …hoping that some good comes out of my pain, i think that might actually lessen it. 

 

but now, just to prove i’m not a complete pessimist here’s my “Look on the Bright Side”, list for all you optimist’s out there, who really do need good news to cheer you up.

7. sleep is over rated and 3am is a nice time to read and write. 

6. okay, can’t think of a good “bright side” for that one. will get back to you…(help me out optimists!!!)

5. rain hitting the roof at night is a lovely sound, plus to be honest, i like the rain most of the time.

4. i did not go into anaphlactic shock- i lived!!

3. the taxi driver was fun to talk to and taught me great british words which  i will implement into my vocabulary… ‘that bullock had some dodgy rates, but he took me past some brilliant sights.’

2 and 1 will always suck- you hear me passport control?!? you deported sum’s nanny! very dodgy, very dodgy indeed.  (don’t even touch this one optimists, you’re going to have to deal with the reality that utter suckiness, with no redemtpive value in sight, can sometimes occur… however, like i said, go to town with number 6.)

Today i did something i wasn’t quite sure i could do…some considered it (and i quote), “crazy”, and some (and i quote again, this time from the hard core spandex donned cyclist at the start line) a “piece of cake”.

Hm. What does that little phrase mean anyway? What’s easy about cake?! I guess boxed cake is easy, but dude… vegan gluten free cake? Now that’s complicated. Hard work, I tell you, very. So i guess this means mr.“i’m-an-amazing-portland-cyclist (and by the way… I think cyclist sounds so much more hard core! I… am a mere bike rider. However, those individuals who actually have the random buckets strapped to the side of their bikes, the mirrors protruding form their helmet, and of course the spandex… now those people are freaking the real deal, the elite… you can’t mess with the CYCLISTS!!) …but back to that great metaphor about cake…what I am trying to say is that if we think of vegan gluten free cake, then that cyclist was right. A 40 mile bike ride in Portland was a piece of cake…so much so, that I distinctly remember a few times during the ride when all i really wanted was to jump off my bike and walk it to the nearest bus stop, or die. Whichever was easier.

 

As much as it sucked at times, I pushed on, I pushed through, I prevailed, and I finished!

 

I am glad I did it… there’s something about a sea of bikes, bubbles, loud music, and honey buckets to welcome you to the finish line that make it all worth it in the end.

Not only did I get the opportunity to ride forty miles through my beloved city, I learned a few valuable lessons.

 

Numero uno. Next time I will recruit a friend to come with me, this way it can be a little more “leisure-y” as opposed to trying to keep up with the “cyclepaths.”

 

Numero dos. Do Not believe the dragon-tattooed, long grey hair, cyclist who looks more like a Harley Davidson biker than a cyclist, who is telling you the remaining mileage and incline.  So there I was biking with this guy for a few miles. “Any idea how much further we have?” I ask. “We went about thirty miles so far, but don’t worry, everything from here on out is down hill!” (We’d spent most of the day, it seemed, slowly going up)

“Sweet!! Glorious descent- here I come!!”

 

The glorious descent did NOT come when I expected- not when he said it would… before my glorious downhill, was the crazy, insane, ridiculous, and terrible ascent of Mt. Tabor. Yes, that’s Mt. as in “mountain”… ehhhhem. So UP Mt. Tabor I rode, with every bend that I could not see around, wishing, hoping, and praying that the thing would stop going UP. This is one of those times when I wanted to be a quitter… knowing i could not, i instead sunk to profanity. I yelled at that horrible unfeeling mountain… okay, “yelled” isn’t quite accurate, it was more like gasped some four letter word to tell that hill it sucked, and the man who told me the hill wasn’t there… that he too, sucked.

Numero tres. Biking forty miles isn’t really that crazy. I think some people do things like this everyday for fun. Now, I don’t actually know any of those people (see numero uno), but I know they exist. So what I did wasn’t all that incredible. I plan on doing some more of these rides in the future. Despite unforeseen hills of great magnitude, that are appropriately prefixed with “Mt.”, and bikers not biker riders, I mean “bikers- vroom vroom” that lie, it was a great experience!

 

So all and all, i think i’m like one pedal closer to being a cyclist….anyone have an old rearview mirror I can attach to my helmet? I’ll worry about the bucket and spandex another day.

 i heart my trusty lil bike.

 

 

you know you are sleep deprived when…

as i draggingly made my way to my front door today, trying hard to be positive and focus on the fact, that yes, i would soon be able to sit my bum down on a soft fluffy couch and rest my weary bones and heavy eyelids…  i lifted my arm, made of lead, though it felt, to lift my key chain in the general direction of the door nob and keyhole.

…this is when i pressed the ‘unlock’ button on my car’s key chain. i waited for the “doop, doop!” and the click of the door automatically unlocking. it took a half a second or so… okay at least two whole seconds of utter sleepy confusion.

automatic door openers…they do not work on ALL doors people. only cars.