I finished my sorta last final this morning and I cant describe the elation I felt of finally leaving campus. Of course, this was all before the reality of my situation came to drag me back down to earth. my final wasnt too bad--but I seriously had to pee throughout most of it. I practically had coffee running through my veins. last night I had too much caffiene and couldnt go to sleep until around 2 am only to wake up at 530 so I could cram before my final at 1030. It took me the whole 2 hrs to finish it--I will take this moment to express how much essays suck--and was one of those stragglers at the end of a class of 500. Oh, but I reeeeally hate it when people sit next to me during tests in lecture halls. Because honestly, theres no space. And what the hell, I got there semi-early so I could get a decent spot away from people, surrounded by all these empty chairs. Then this girl just chooses to sit down right next to me. Okay whatever, not so bad but I must admit that I totally felt like Amelie's dad: he hates it when other men use the urinal right next to him when theres about a million empty ones. Then, ugh, this swarm of bubble gum popping freshman princess idiots rush in a fill the row behind me. they dont save a seat of this staggler girl and oh no, she cant BEAR to sit somewhere else, so she plops herself down in the open seat next to mine and in front of her friends. Dude, its not like they're gonna be able to help you out considering that we're sitting in the FRONT ROW with the TAs staring right at us. So now my plan of having some SPACE has backfired and Im now crammed into this seat where I have to fight of the armrests and my papers hit them and their papers hit me. Constant elbow harrassing!!! But the absolute WORST part was the fact that I could freaking HEAR them smacking on their gum... I would cringe everytime I heard a bubble pop. Amelies mom: face twitch, weak nerves. My poli sci TA, for all the weirdness of the class, is a nice guy. So there!
And of course my book is 'valueless' and I dont even bother getting in line because it see all these poli sci books piled up in the "donate no value books" box. I dont know why, but I chose to keep my book.
Of course, this all lead me to take a serious nap when I got home. But, as my sister's graduating tomorrow I must Clean! I know that I dont clean as often as I should, evidence being my constantly messy room, but when I actually do clean is like an event, I swear. I just finished cleaning my banisters--why are there so many rungs I cant begin to comprehend.
The craziest thing Ive learned today is that the Bishops have their own coat of arms. I have to admit that this absolutely fascinates me because I want one too! Mr. Darcy has one, supposedly Ronald Reagan had one too. I need to find the person who distributes coat of arms so I can schmooze and bribe (haha at first I wrote 'bride') my way into getting one. Whoa, also just found out that the Bishop from my Confirmation went to State, for a while at least. thats so weird.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Im exhausted and its only 630. I just woke up from a nap but NEED to study for my last real final tomorrow.
I think I may actually get an 'A' in Spanish. What the hell...it only took me 7 years but better late than never, right? I planned out my classes for both summer and fall (something I secretly enjoy doing as soon as the schedules come out) but it looks like spanish and I will have to part ways (for now?). It seems appropriate that I should finally like spanish when it has become useless to me (academically speaking).
I also said bye to my lover today.
I also made another attempt at donating blood and this time I was good with the iron so stab me they did. The lady who 'stuck' me, Benita, stabbed me and usually blood starts flowing right away (its a pretty thick needle), but after it was all in my arm, nothing happened. Ohhh Lord, she stuck the needle completely through my vein! Nothing was flowing through the tubes. The irony was not lost upon me and I could do nothing but LAUGH at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Im such a stupid silly girl. I was nervous too, not that I was worried something bad was going to happen, but the idea that there was this needle stuck in me in a place it shouldnt be made me a little crazy. I think I made Benita nervous too because she tried to fix it (by probing the needle around the whole already in my arm) but couldnt so she had to get someone else, a man named Alberto, to fix me. He full on pulled the whole thing out and pushed it through again... hello pain. And it wasnt the throbbing kind of pain, it was the slightly uncomfortable inside pain that is just barely tolerable. But I was bleeding like a mad man--I think I cleared the whole bag and everything in about 4 minutes. OH! You know the part during your 'history' session where they do that needle stick on your finger? Well they checked my blood with the blue 'water' thing but needed more blood to run it through the machine (you have to get a 38 with the iron) and so he squeezed my figure and I was amazed to see blood actually SPURT out at me. It was sorta gross but its done now and I got the blue bandage and a 'GIVE BLOOD + GIVE LIFE' wristband:)
>>Sonya, thanks for the poem! I think he wrote that on the spot too
I think I may actually get an 'A' in Spanish. What the hell...it only took me 7 years but better late than never, right? I planned out my classes for both summer and fall (something I secretly enjoy doing as soon as the schedules come out) but it looks like spanish and I will have to part ways (for now?). It seems appropriate that I should finally like spanish when it has become useless to me (academically speaking).
I also said bye to my lover today.
I also made another attempt at donating blood and this time I was good with the iron so stab me they did. The lady who 'stuck' me, Benita, stabbed me and usually blood starts flowing right away (its a pretty thick needle), but after it was all in my arm, nothing happened. Ohhh Lord, she stuck the needle completely through my vein! Nothing was flowing through the tubes. The irony was not lost upon me and I could do nothing but LAUGH at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Im such a stupid silly girl. I was nervous too, not that I was worried something bad was going to happen, but the idea that there was this needle stuck in me in a place it shouldnt be made me a little crazy. I think I made Benita nervous too because she tried to fix it (by probing the needle around the whole already in my arm) but couldnt so she had to get someone else, a man named Alberto, to fix me. He full on pulled the whole thing out and pushed it through again... hello pain. And it wasnt the throbbing kind of pain, it was the slightly uncomfortable inside pain that is just barely tolerable. But I was bleeding like a mad man--I think I cleared the whole bag and everything in about 4 minutes. OH! You know the part during your 'history' session where they do that needle stick on your finger? Well they checked my blood with the blue 'water' thing but needed more blood to run it through the machine (you have to get a 38 with the iron) and so he squeezed my figure and I was amazed to see blood actually SPURT out at me. It was sorta gross but its done now and I got the blue bandage and a 'GIVE BLOOD + GIVE LIFE' wristband:)
>>Sonya, thanks for the poem! I think he wrote that on the spot too
this week is poopy. every time i have a million things to do i start thinking of the things i really should be doing... like contemplating larger issues, reading books for fun, and looking at art. i hate feeling like a machine... i don't even feel like i just took a midterm. i don't feel like i woke up, walked to class, took a midterm, and came back. oh, and i'm officially crazy because i rushed to get ready and ran out of my building at 7:05, wondering why it was so empty. duh, i don't need to leave until 7:35 for 8am midterm. i felt so crazy with my notes in my hand, all ready to take my test. i turned around and came back to my room but by then it was just about time to go to class again. damn.
it's quite hard to take things on "one at a time" when there are about fifty things all due on the same day. also, i am quite disillusioned. i mean, who really cares about the effects of mood and knowledge of upbringing on attribution of a criminal's behavior? especially when you have to manipulate your participants' moods twice within 10 min... wow, how's that for external validity. maybe i'll drop 100b, drop out of psych major, drop out of college, drop out of the country, and become a viennese bum, writing romantic poetry for impressionable tourists on the bank of a river.
see, i'm not crazy. !! HA!!!! HAHA!!!!!!!!
it's quite hard to take things on "one at a time" when there are about fifty things all due on the same day. also, i am quite disillusioned. i mean, who really cares about the effects of mood and knowledge of upbringing on attribution of a criminal's behavior? especially when you have to manipulate your participants' moods twice within 10 min... wow, how's that for external validity. maybe i'll drop 100b, drop out of psych major, drop out of college, drop out of the country, and become a viennese bum, writing romantic poetry for impressionable tourists on the bank of a river.
i'm feeling a little more positive now, after reading that poem (which he did think up on the spot). so i'll do my social psych response, go to lab, eat lunch with my ex-TA (a female ta, mind you), visit the library, go to section, write a 15 page scientific paper, plan tomorrow's clinic session, and perhaps even go for a run.Daydream delusion.
Limousine Eyelash
Oh, baby with your pretty face
Drop a tear in my wineglass
Look at those big eyes
See what you mean to me
Sweet cakes and milkshakes
I am a delusioned angel
I am a fantasy parade.
I want you to know what I think.
Don't want you to guess anymore.
You have no idea where I came from.
We have no idea where we're going.
Launched in life.
Like branches in the river.
Flowing downstream.
Caught in the current.
I'll carry you. You'll carry me.
That's how it could be.
Don't you know me
Don't you know me by now.
see, i'm not crazy. !! HA!!!! HAHA!!!!!!!!
Sunday, May 15, 2005
We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.
-Lincoln, from the First Inaugaral Address, 1861
naturally i'm blogging when i should be doing just about anything else. i'm going back to school in a little bit and there are tons of things to do but i feel so out of it. yesterday michelle, matt, and i went to pacific beach to check out the block party. the crowd was a mess of flashy tatooed things and the sun was punishing me for trying to be a part of it. then we went to mira mesa, just because we always end up there, and later to torrey pines. (i love torrey pines). at night we watched before sunrise and before sunset at michelle's while ate assorted fat french food including croissants, nutella, and strawberry tartlettes (why are there no fat french women?). this morning i ran a little and walked from torrey pines to del mar with my dad. (i love torrey pines). soon i'm heading to the solana beach amtrak station.
i don't like it when adults talk to me about adult things.
i'm still a child.
i don't want to hear and know things.
i'd much rather be naive.
i just want to be overtaken by the pacific ocean.
i just want to surf.
i don't want to hear and say serious things.
i just want everyone to be happy.
i hate remembering everything i'm trying to forget.
i want to feel salt water dripping from my eyelashes.
i don't want to feel guilty.
everyone at least deserves to be happy.
at least school offers me an escape from everything. home in escape in some way too, but in a much different way. at school i can get lost in midterms, papers, stress, activities, the constant sound of people talking about useless things. and myself talking of useless things. it's so easy to make a month go by that way. but when you start thinking, really thinking, the moment drags on and on as the thought unravels itself. and then you realize you've wrapped yourself up completely, like a mummy in an iridescent ribbon or something. yes, it's much easier to worry about midterms.
fold laundry/ pack clothes/ pack things for french presentation/ pack books/ pack toiletries/ get on the train/ take the two buses/ walk back to sproul/ go to sleep/ 8am class.
i don't like it when adults talk to me about adult things.
i'm still a child.
i don't want to hear and know things.
i'd much rather be naive.
i just want to be overtaken by the pacific ocean.
i just want to surf.
i don't want to hear and say serious things.
i just want everyone to be happy.
i hate remembering everything i'm trying to forget.
i want to feel salt water dripping from my eyelashes.
i don't want to feel guilty.
everyone at least deserves to be happy.
at least school offers me an escape from everything. home in escape in some way too, but in a much different way. at school i can get lost in midterms, papers, stress, activities, the constant sound of people talking about useless things. and myself talking of useless things. it's so easy to make a month go by that way. but when you start thinking, really thinking, the moment drags on and on as the thought unravels itself. and then you realize you've wrapped yourself up completely, like a mummy in an iridescent ribbon or something. yes, it's much easier to worry about midterms.
fold laundry/ pack clothes/ pack things for french presentation/ pack books/ pack toiletries/ get on the train/ take the two buses/ walk back to sproul/ go to sleep/ 8am class.
