Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Soaked today, still awake too late.

Continuing with the 6 words, I went skating between thunderstorms today.  The path wasn't bad, but predictably another storm blew up and I got soaked between taking off my skates and heading to the train station.  Thankfully, I hurried and got off the trail and the hill up from it before it blew in.  Two and a half hours is still a long time to be wet though.  Storms cause slow, slow trains.

Oh, and I still need to go to bed earlier.  And this whole "I hate everybody" thing blows, except I don't know what else to do.  And there is no self-consciousness with it, definite plus.  (And it doesn't apply to work really.  At work, I'm at work.  *shrug*  Besides, I like my job and I understand my role and I'm okay with it.)

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

6 words

I don't write near enough anymore, so I'm changing the format a little: 6 words summarizing each day and a paragraph for backstory. I got the idea from this Smith magazine book and the fact that I get too little sleep even when I don't blog.

So here goes today: Parkour rocks, misanthrope already, too bad.


Backstory:

I've been doing parkour at Primal Fitness in DC for most of the time since I stopped blogging. It's an awesome workout (dragging myself around a block at a quasi-run and then doing pushups and pullups awesome) and I like the community around it. They're the sort of people that have a barbeque and all sit on the floor and eat and make you comfortable enough to go sit in the circle and then widen the circle to make room for you when you do. Which doesn't seem like that big a deal, but w/e, it is. Anyway, that's what I've been doing. That and deciding that human relationships are generally annoying and crappy and I'm sick and tired of being peoples' friend substitute, you know, the nice little person they talk to when the people they want to be around aren't available, and therefore I'm ditching people, not that there are that many, and a few I'd rather not ditch, but I'm kinda not nice right now.

I'll be a benign sort of hateful person. Want directions? Fine. Want to ask me what my major is and then sit around awkwardly waiting for someone you know? Bite me. It's been a dramatic, for lack of a better word, first half of the year too, which undoubtedly contributes. Soap opera writers wish my semester would happen to them. They wouldn't have to make up any drama for their shows. :-/ Speaking of which, Glee is awesome, awesome, awesome. Loved it. Want more. Anyway, that's me of the moment.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Looking up

I was out til midnight (after, actually) with a bunch of girls from school. :)  Things are looking up, just maybe.  Now I sleep.  Good night.

PS More later.  It's been an eventful little while.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

epiphany-ish, sort of (don't say I'm not uncertain)

I need more exposure!

So here's the problem, in a nutshell: the 'rents, out of an overprotective something (too painful to write out in the open just yet) smacked me back to 14 just as I got ready to fly, so I never really did.

So now I'm 27, almost 28, and I need people to be around. Except, I have the same problem now that we had growing up (That happens when you move every time you get close to settling in somewhere. I really need to finish the life story). Anyway, the problem is a lack of people. No close friends, well one, but we might possibly never see each other again, since she lives halfway around the world. Acquaintances are not friends and small talk, shallow, "we don't know each other well enough to really talk" conversations are just exhausting after about the 3rd one in a week.

Anyway, I'd like to one day have sex (that's right, I said it, fuck the whole omg, I'm religious, I don't have funny bits thing. I have them and they're finally making themselves known. Not fun.). Anyway, I would. And I'd also like to be able to have con-ver-sa-tions. Not stupid, awkward acquaintance blabbing, but conversations. Talking about something. Where there are opinions and disagreements and maybe never an agreement, but when it's all said and done, somebody else's opinion informs your way of thinking or maybe yours informs someone else's or maybe you laughed or were pensive or got really annoyed or something. Something.

So, the idea is, I need to become known. For normal people, existing is enough maybe, you go to school, you meet people, you work, somebody invites you out for drinks. I am freak people, I don't get invited out for drinks, and I didn't get to go to school with people to whom I could be anything more than acquainted. So, I have to do something else. I have to be smart or fast or something. Normal people get to exist. If I do something extraordinary, maybe somebody will see that I exist.

I am angry with the parents. Really, really angry. They knew how hard this would be. And they were so selfish that they made it much, much harder than it could have been. And now they won't talk about it, which means it will never get any better. *sigh*

Anyway, the problem with extraordinary is that I don't think I can pull it off. I get halfway through a week and I get sad enough that I don't study. I don't eat enough, don't drink enough, don't eat enough. :-/ I don't have a fix for that, really.

Monday, March 30, 2009

More of the same

There's a girl,
sitting all alone,
reading a book,
no one else at home

See here the stain,
there against the wall,
the paint's lighter there,
it's where her shadow falls

She's reading a book,
a book she's read before,
books are her friends,
she's never had anymore

There's a party going on,
somewhere across the street
She doesn't know where,
but she can hear the beat

Friends arriving,
shaking hands,
having things to say,
she doesn't understand

No one really knows her,
at work they know her name,
they know that she works hard,
but that isn't quite the same

she's one of the lonely,
they've slid between the cracks
they're lost and forgotten,
no one has their backs (I don't like this line.)

No one knows about them
they're lost and alone,
and no one cares about them,
they sit in their homes.

They're wasted lives and
wasted smiles
and wasted hopes and dreams
and no one knows or cares.

No one knows.
No one cares.
No one knows.
No one cares.

This isn't working. By the time the weekend rolls around, I'm so exhausted, I'm useless. And then, I'm supposed to do all the things I didn't get done during the week, except that I don't. I just sleep instead and Saturday morning, I start to get sick and have to flood the cold with vitamin C juice (pineapple, orange, grapefruit, w/e) and then by Sunday, I'm okay, but I didn't get anything done Saturday and I'm still exhausted because I couldn't sleep Saturday night. Sigh.

Friday, March 27, 2009

Quick and wrung-out

It's Thursday.  Thursday.  I have to keep reminding myself because otherwise I start to sink into the exhaustion.  I am trying to do too much this semester: work 25-30 hours a week, 2 significant classes, and gymnastics team, which is a huge timesink.  This will be a bad semester.  But, if I had to choose between this and going back to study, study, study, nothing else, I would pick this.

I already have a degree with study, study, study grades.  What I need right now is to get to the point where I can balance everything (better) and not be quite so exhausted at the end of the day.

Random unrelated stuff: It rained all day today.  Everything smells wet.  Inside, it smells like wet people and clothes.  Not that lovely a smell.  Outside is better, wet ground and water in the air don't smell half-bad. :)

My shoulders are incredibly sore.  Full-body ice pack wanted.  I don't even have a regular ice pack though, because for some reason, I left them with my parents when I moved down here.

I muscled myself up a wall, with a little cheating, and did a handstand about 3" from the wall yesterday though.  I couldn't do that at the beginning of the semester. :D

Friday, March 20, 2009

The one where I tell complete strangers EVERYTHING and hold the darkness back a little longer, part 1

I'm going to be lonely forever, that's fairly inevitable considering I can no longer tell harmless people from crazed nutballs and I can't tell myself from either. When you start accusing innocent harmless people of being crazed insane people because you can't tell the difference, you know the end is nigh. You might as well give up and recognize your future role as feeder of cats.

(Note before you flame me: I have no problem with cats. I'm just not looking forward to the 13 or so who will sleep in a vaguely man-shaped outline formed by the warmth from my own body after they've evicted me from my bed to serve them gourmet cat food which I'll be able to afford because I have nothing else to spend money on. (But hey, apparently I'll be employed in this bleak future, so that's something.)

Amusing Castle Episode 2 tidbit: Cheetah Condoms? Really? Isn't speed in that arena not a good thing?

In all seriousness though, I want to have friends and sex. I'm tired of not falling asleep by myself and not talking to anybody. I don't want to do it for the rest of my life. What does this have to do with my life story? I don't really know, but it seems like a less drastic approach than going to the ghetto Target (tar-jay) by my house and buying a hoey dress with which to get me a man. Hey, it's always a possibility. (Please note: If you are an impressionable Muslim, or follower of any moral code, or person vested in your own self-esteem and you read this.... It is not really a worthwhile option to go out and lure men with hoey dresses. Nor does it work, apparently. Read Unhooked: How Young Women Pursue Sex, Delay Love, and Lose at Both before you try it. Oh, and consider whether or not you want that on your conscience.)

Anyhow, I'm getting quietly more crazed as the time passes, so without further ado:

Me, unabridged, in vignettes (because I like that word).

May 1981
Baby girl, black eyes, black hair, no forehead, born in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia 2 weeks premature to a couple of well-meaning insane people (not their fault). Based on retroactive study of baby passport photos, she got to be pudgy and foreheaded fairly quickly. Two months later, the 'rents moved her and her 2-year old brother to New York to stay with their grandmother. The decision had a lot to do with the fact that Saudi Arabian culture featured small children spitting the word 'Abid (slave) at the father and Saudi television featured Black Samba cartoons. The parents decided their children would grow up in the US.


Nov. 1985
It's a late November morning in Baltimore. There are three kids now, the first boy and girl and another boy, ages 2, 4, and 6. The kids are around the corner at their cousins' house experimenting with mixers: apple juice and orange juice. Puking ensues. Their father picks them up and late that night, the girl goes downstairs. Her father is awake is in the living room. "You have a baby sister" he says and the next day they all go and get Mom and the baby from the hospital. The kids get to name the baby, which is probably momentarily frightening for her. (She picked her head up and looked around shortly after birth, so she probably gets it.) The kids pick a good name though, so it's okay.


December 1986
There is a party. The little girl and her family go. The baby sister is there on the mother's lap. The brothers are somewhere. There are cupcakes for the kids after they eat their dinner. The little girl eats too slowly and when she is finished, the girl supervising the kids is gone and so are the cupcakes. The other kids have all finished eating and disappeared off to somewhere. The little girl stays in the room by herself, singing to herself, and tracing patterns in the carpet. It never occurs to her that she could get up and go downstairs and find somebody else. When they come to get her, it's time to leave, and she sees that everyone else was in the kitchen eating chocolate cake. She cries herself to sleep in the living room that night. All the kids share a room with a loft bed with shelves under it and a slide. They sleep side by side on the floor in sleeping bags and her crying was keeping her brothers awake. (For the rest of her life, she will fold the blankets like a sleeping bag.) The baby still sleeps in the parents' room. She will eventually be moved to the kids' room in a hail of her own tears.


May 1987
The house in Baltimore is full of kids and moms. It's a typical school day and there is an auction today. All the kids have been given tokens that they can use to buy coloring books and marker sets. They're supposed to be learning the value of money. The little girl is 7 now and won't know the value of money for another year or two, when she sends away for a copy of "Ump's Fwat" and a bunch of other "Free Stuff for Kids."

Today though, she buys a Red Riding Hood coloring book. The oldest two (she and her brother) will go to their Science Center classes tomorrow and dissect a frog. (They never make it. The car gets a flat and the neighbor comes over to jack it up and put on the spare, but by then the class is over. She does get to dissect a frog, but not until 4 years later, in college, which will have to wait until next installment.)

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Once more

Aww, I missed my 100th post. I was going to do something special. It will have to wait for 200, I guess. Today is a poem anyway, so that's something a little different.

Once more

One more time,
I will pinup the corners of my mouth,
think pretty.

One more time,
store acorns
give us something to talk about.

One more time,
sit down at a table,
cross my legs at the ankles just so,
worry about my clothes.

One more time.
And then done with
and never again.

Once more and then
invest in horses and
take in the cats that find the lonely ones.

Cats know where to eat,
where to find a good scratch.

Once more.
Then done.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

views and practice and more of the happy

My angry rant post was unbelievably well-read for this blog. I was very pleasantly surprised and a little amazed. It also did its purpose and made me feel a lot better about the whole thing. I hope it wasn't too strongly worded or offensive. It was meant more to make me feel better and to be honest and forthright than to hurt anyone. Also, thanks to everyone who commented on that post and also on my older ones. I do read comments on old posts. :)

What's new? Gymnastics practice was amazing yesterday and tonight. I can almost say I have my cartwheel! I say almost because I want to have it a little better and for a little more time before I say that I HAVE it. It feels good though and the coach noticed and commented on it, which made me feel really, really, really good. That was yesterday, and then tonight, we had a long practice and I'm not really good enough to work skills for all of a 3 hour practice. I'm also not strong enough to do a lot of what I would like to do. I wound up working out for about 30 or 45 minutes and then going to the strength gym downstairs and doing my full body workout for the 45 or so minutes that that takes and then going back up to the gymnastics gym and doing another 45 minutes on the beam and the trampoline and stretching. I feel so tired heading home right now.

It's a good tired though, like the sort of tired that happens when you know you did a lot and now you're done. It's a happy tired, even though I still have Calc homework to do when I get home.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Listen, you stupid idiots who won't stop staring at me.

Note: If I have any faithful readers, this is probably not geared towards you. Please forgive me for this, but it needs to be said. There's profanity, because right now I don't want to be the nice person I'm usually trying to be and because when you don't curse much, sometimes it's effective when you do. Unedited and without further ado:

Background: This weekend was beautiful in my neck of the woods, so I went skating on my usual fav trail...in a skirt, with a picnic lunch, and my usual backpack.

Dear racist/religionist/discriminatory/whatever the fuck you call yourselves idiots,

Stop staring at me. When I go skating, or running, or walking, or to the gym, or whatever, I'm out making myself a better person. I'm safeguarding my body against cholesterol and heart disease and diabetes (it's common in my people). I'm protecting my mind from stagnation and from insanity and from wasting itself. Do you honestly think it's easy on the mind to be this lonely and to have these prospects for future loneliness?? Even you cannot possibly be that stupid. I'm breathing the fresh air. I'm watching the deer on the trail. ...The last thing on my mind is you...until, that is, you fearfully watch me pass. "OMG", your face says "!!!" "WHAT IS IT???!!" "When will it hurt me?" "I shall stare at it because I have never seen one and I can't handle it." Your race doesn't even matter.


Well, here is your answer: It's a Weird, Lonely, sometimes Broke Muslim chick using endorphins (those are the chemicals that give a natural high from exercise) to stave off another day. Odds are beneath my headscarf, I have a headphone in one ear and I'm listening to acapella or some story podcast (EscapePod and PodCastle are awesome, PseudoPod is very, very weird. Like, what the?? weird.)

Here's the deal: You don't have to worry about me pulling a gun out of my skirt and shooting you. Why? Because I am too tough for that. Because not even 28 years of loneliness and outcastedness (or whatever the word is) and betrayal by the very people to whom I was supposed to matter and the promise of 30 or 50 or 70 lonely years to come is enough to make me blow your stupid head off, even if your head is really, really stupid. You think of that when you're staring at me like I'm some sort of apparition.

Oh and check this out: I don't even own a fucking gun. I have once. I grew up partially on a farm in rural CA and we had a shotgun. We shot a deer in the butt with it once. It was trying to eat my mother's garden. We don't have the shotgun anymore. We have books and yoga mats and prayer mats. But, you wouldn't know that, would you? Would you even care?

I am a living, breathing human being. I have feelings. If you treated me like a human being, maybe I could stop muttering "bite me! BITE ME!" under my breath at you. Maybe I could actually smile at you and gaily trail a "hi!" behind me like I would like to do. (I'm highly susceptible to the endorphins.) It's up to you. I'm not going anywhere, unless one of you pulls the gun that I'm not willing to and makes me go away.

Until and Unless, here I fucking be.
Peace,

WBL

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

they start to win

The problem isn't so much the stupid people. It isn't the idiot girl who decides you've already moved in with her and she's just going to browbeat you ("we'll move you this Saturday") until you give in, despite the fact that she's always seemed afraid to talk to you and you watched her ask somebody else to move in with her not five minutes before she found out that you have the ability to pay rent. It's not the dude with a crush and a huge personality disorder. It's the ones you thought were ok. It's the ones about whom you thought "ok, you don't like me, but you don't mess with me either. We're not friends, friends would be too much to ask of anyone, but I don't have to watch my back around you."

If I did meet somebody nice, as a friend, for a relationship, w/e, it wouldn't even matter, because after a while, all you see is stupid, hateful, nasty people and you can't recognize anything else anyway.

The other post - whee

For a real webcomic, go read xkcd.

Oddballs no. 1

I'm trying my hand at a webcomic, because I don't like the sound of my emo voice, even if it isn't "very emo". :)

Monday, March 2, 2009

The one that's not about me. :)

This blog is usually pretty serious, being my something-or-other serious and emotionally beneficial, so I'm going to try to write more posts that are not about me. I'm back on track with the original goal of the blog: getting unbroke, and unlonely, despite the permanent (hopefully) inherent weirdness. So, now, I'm going to try branching out. It's not all about me anymore! Enjoy. :)

Site of the day:

Che55.com


This site lets you play chess games with people all over the world. It's basically correspondence chess, with certain amounts of time between moves (2 days, 5 days, etc...). Most importantly, the site is well-used. I have 6 or 7 games after a day of being a member. The chess interface is soft and homey and easy to use. All in all, I find this a worthwhile site if you're a chess fan, or if you are just looking for a fun game to play with another human being on your own time. Check it out.

I get it.

I understand now why I am lonely. It's because I'm too friendly and too friendly while being too different. I'm having issues, guy issues with a guy that I feel nothing romantic for who I think (I'm pretty sure) likes me, but who annoys me, a lot, at the same time. And I don't really want to be friends with him or have a relationship with him.

The annoyingness is just him being him, I think. But, it's incredibly annoying. I really don't want to be around him, which would be difficult, unfortunately.

Trying to be nice to him while not wanting to be around him is interesting though. Most of me wants to spend my time in my room and have nothing to do with him. I might just do that. But part of me figures I shouldn't do that. I kind of want that part to lose. Just because you don't want to be mean doesn't mean you have to let someone get on your nerves.

There's something of a parallel to be drawn between my own friendlessness and me not wanting to be friends with him though. To the rest of the world, I am as he is to me. And there's not much (or nothing) I can do about it.

So here's the conclusion I've finally come to: You have to be yourself and accept yourself, because there isn't anything else. Nobody will validate you for free. You either like yourself or you become a follower, subscribe to somebody, follow their rules, and let them give you a flock. (Not an option for me. Followers have uniforms and my clothes don't qualify. Also, I have never been one of those or that accepted, so I don't know if that is a bad thing or not. I would welcome comments.)

People don't like me because they fear me, fear being indebted to me. It's the same as my natural wariness warring with my need not to be part of the problem in the case of this guy. If it were just up to the wariness, I would have nothing at all, nada, zip to do with him. But, I have been in his shoes, sort of. Although, I don't think I was ever the type to try to make people feel stupid or invade their space. But, I don't want to owe him anything.

The people I know don't want me to feel like their friend because then there is a relationship, an obligation, and being obliged to me is frightening, because they don't get anything out of it, no matter how scintillating my personality. ^^ If I were the possesor of great physical beauty, it might be different, because enough beauty makes the normal rules not apply, but again I wouldn't know for sure. I could see problems with exploiting that, also.

I like my face. I like my body. I like the way I am, generally, and when I don't, I take note and try to change that, I think. I try not to make the world a worse place than it would be without me. But in the end, none of that matters to most of everybody else.

I am lucky to have found my old warcraft guild, because they accepted me, more than I have been before, or ever, even after I "came out" to them as me. Why not just masquerade as normal? Blegh. It seemed dishonest under the circumstances. I would rather not be liked as myself than be loved as a figment of the imagination. Besides, they liked me. As me. So, lucky me. :)

Anyway, basically, I'm probably screwed, or not, since the apparent likelihood of me dying a virgin is the inverse of the likelihood of me being feared or whatever it is. Heh.

Monday, February 23, 2009

my hair

ate a comb this morning,
waved dark tendrils in the wind from my window and
demanded another

shhh

it doesn't know it's getting locked this summer

grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Mom, I love you, but, no, I don't want to marry some random dude from a Muslim dating website. Nor do I want to talk to said random dude. I am not into random dudes. Oh and in my post before, I missed one: incarcerated dude. Yeah. He sent me a letter with pictures and everything and okay, he's cute enough, but no. NO. I am amazed that the girl who told him about me told him about me.

And the thing is, if I took off all my stuff and went to da club, I don't think it'd be any easier. To find somebody random to make out with, sure, okay, but I seriously doubt that'd make it easier to find somebody to be friends with, or maybe to be more than friends (bowchickawowwow, don't ask, it seemed appropriate). And I am so not interested in random making out with people. I'd make out with TDiL though, except I wouldn't, but I'd want to.

People keep telling me: Oh, everybody's lonely. It's not just you. So, if the universe is a huge septic tank of islands floating in the shit, that's supposed to help? Oh, it's fine, we're all in the same stinky situation.

Weird I can handle. If you judge me by my invisible boobs, odds are I don't want to know you anyway. Brok-ish, I can handle. Lonely is a huge pain in the ass. Huge.

Oh, and Coraline was very good. I went by myself and it was enjoyable. Tim Burton delivers. I won't give it away, but if you watch it, notice the sweaters. They are real miniature sweaters really knitted by a real person. If you've ever knitted, you'll be impressed by this, especially the one with the color pattern, oh, and the gloves. Knitting gloves that tiny is pretty amazing.

So lonely, *sigh*

I'm going to bed. I have to work tomorrow, assuming disgruntlement doesn't cost me my job.

Hurley

I was watching Lost and I have come to this conclusion: Hurley has the best hair.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

grrrrrrrrrrrr

It's one of those days, you know, the sort of day where you get out of bed and step in a pile of cat vomit and then you take a shower and realize that you have no clean underwear, and since underwear is not like socks and can't be reworn for weeks after removing it once, you have to wash out a pair and because you have no oven, you then have to put the pair on damp. Then you have to wear the damp underwear all day, because damp underwear sandwiched between your jeans and your butt does not dry. It stays damp. Or, you can decide to go underwearless. I don't know about you, but jeans commando is not one of my fav outfits. I'd rather do the damp underwear thing.

And while we're on the subject of underwear, who came up with the concept of thongs? I finally broke out of the usual bikini forever mode and bought a single thong, and wore said thong..once. How in the heck are you supposed to keep the strap unwedgied? Doesn't anyone realize how very cold MD winters are? Maybe I'm the wrong generation, although I'm not that old, yeesh. Or maybe I spent too much time running through the woods growing up. (hey, It could have something to do with an aversion to thongs). Maybe I'm too much of a treehouse person and I want my underwear to be substantial enough to double as rope should I be forced to use it to rappell someday. (It could happen.) Whatever the underlying reason, the thong will not be getting a repeat wearing.

So, it's one of those days. I have homework, which is mostly not done. I was supposed to be at the Duke women's basketball game today, which I am missing, even as I write. Before that, I was supposed to go meet somebody, which I didn't. I was at work late Friday and am fielding angry emails even as I write. I will have to deal with incredible amounts of disgruntledness on Monday. Incredible amounts, which I am not looking forward to. The only seminormal person I've run into in a while is, well, not. I have a work project that I can't test because I didn't leave the machine on. Oh, and that will contribute to the disgruntledness to come on Monday. Somebody hold me. I need a cat to hug, but they're all at home. *Grumble.* *ssiiigghh.*

Oh, and it was one of those days that look warm and then you go out and it's all like "wind, cold, blowing in your face no matter which way you're walking."

Maybe tomorrow will be better. Except the disgruntled are just waiting to complain at me, and about me, and threaten the job without which I can't pay my rent and my tuition and all that good stuff. And I'll have to drop out of school and get another job (in this economy, no less) or move home and go back to being about 13. Yay. Soo grumpy.

Friday, February 20, 2009

breakthrough!

I was me tonight! I have to go to bed, there's a show tomorrow and call time is 5:15 and I have to walk 3 miles to get there, but I actually had fun loading the truck tonight. Part of it was people including me in the silliness that goes on, which was cool, but part of it was just relaxing. That's so incredibly hard to do sometimes.

I don't know, I was in a good mood anyway, because the guild I'm applying to seems to be cool, not as cool as the coolest guild evar, but cool. :D It was probably that. But, I decided at some point that I was NOT going to stand around and feel weird and I didn't. When they ran out of stuff to carry and lift and whatnot, I practiced my old Taekwondo forms. Let's see if I can do a repeat next week. Show tomorrow! Pyramids say ooooooooooooooooooooow! What?! Oooooooooooooooooow!

gnight folks ^^
peace and love

Thursday, February 19, 2009

team sports for the solo flyer, part 1

I have to break this up because I NEED some sleep tonight. I've slept ONE out of the past FOUR nights. One. That is not natural. Not to mention, it's dangerous for me. I tend to fall asleep while walking if I get tired enough. Obviously, this is a problem when you consider traffic.

Anyway, the point is that I'm breaking this post up into a couple of posts. This is the one where I introduce the series, obviously.

I'm in the gymnastics troupe at school and so far, I love the gymnastics. It's hard. The mats are hard. Landing in the mats sometimes hurts. Everything is much, much harder than it looks. My muscles are soft (which means not soft at all, but they might as well be nothing for this sport), which makes every skill even harder. My arms resemble Bert's, but with little shoulders. They were good enough for Taekwondo, but for gymnastics, I might as well have the strength of Bert.

But, all that aside, I have no intention of quitting. Shoot, the fact that it's hard probably makes me even less likely to quit, besides, I WANT my back handspring. I'm not even close to getting it. haha. Oh, and let me mention that besides being 27, not the ideal age for starting gymnastics, I'm also entirely lacking in natural talent. Martial arts? I was not bad at martial arts. I had good legs, ok hands, I was alright. But this? Everything is bad. I did front handsprings for an entire semester and got them exactly twice. Twice. I have done 2 good non-supported, landed front handsprings in my lifetime. 2. But it's fun and my ornery side is starting to kick in as well.

So I like the gymnastics. I don't know about the whole team thing though. For various reasons, I was always the person who went and did whatever by myself. So now for me to have to do the huddle is a little strange.

The first roadshow I went to, I didn't feel like part of anything at all. It was all strange and new and a little silly, maybe. It doesn't help that I'm older than most of the rest of the team, but I don't think I'm the oldest. People speak to me too, so it's not that. I'm just chalking it up to not thinking as a team being for the moment. We'll see if it changes as I go to practice and shows and more people get comfortable with me, if that happens. It'll be interesting.

More later.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

sigh

I got about an hour of sleep last night and yet I am wide awake. >.<

The Daily Yelp - 2/10/9

This is a new feature I'm adding. Yelp.com is a gem. Basically, people get together on the internet and talk about stuff. Restaurants, pizza places, unusual jobs, stuff.

So, each day (that I have time), I'll feature one interesting Yelp thread that I've found.

Today's is Unusual jobs that pay very high salaries. Enjoy!

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Throwing the biological clock against the wall

I think my biological clock is starting to ring. I'm not sure exactly what this means. I don't want kids just yet. I love reading the Mommybloggers, but I'm not quite ready to embark on my own journey of madness, especially since they mention Vodka and Gin and Tonics a lot.... No, I don't think I'm jonesing for little horrors with half my DNA. Eventually, sure, but not for a while.

What then? Company? Probably. The S word that I can't even type for the blush it inspires? (Growing up, that wasn't something you talked about. I guess the home training is strong. I'm linking to the Urban Dictionary definition, which is more like an anti-definition, but gets the point across and makes me laugh. Beware, should you be unfamiliar with UD and stray from the linked page. There be sharks in them thar waters.) Anyway, is that a factor? Umm, probably. Snuggling? For sure. Still, this a bad time and so, I am throwing the alarm at the wall in an effort to silence it. Shhhhh. There isn't anybody around to fulfill that particular void.

Let's enumerate the potentials, shall we:

1) Solicitous Brother: If I'm climbing a tree or carrying a box, and a backpack, and a load of textbooks, he's the one who warns "Sister, you're going to fall". He's the one who asks "Sister, you want some help with that?" It makes my blood boil to be told I'm going to fall out of a tree just because I'm climbing it in a skirt. Seriously. Come on. That's almost as annoying as the Stupid Brother ilk who find it amusing when the girls borrow a football. (We had a most wonderful game of full-contact tackle too. Except I wound up not tackling at all, because the idea of tackling somebody 40 lbs lighter than me and 1 head shorter is frightening.)

2) Crushing dude: No. Just No. And considering that usually the crush stick goes a-beating the other way round, I take this time to apologize to everyone I've ever crushed on. I'm sorry for every incredibly stupid, goofy smile, every "deer-in-the-headlights" stare. If it's any consolation, I couldn't help it. (In plain English, I'm usually the one with the hideous, omg, never-to-be-requited crush. Except, I think maybe I've grown out of crushing in general. And not a moment to soon.) So, I feel for him. But, I am highly, highly, extremely unlikely to ever like him the way he wants me to. Plus, he's younger than me, and I am not into the younger men.

3) TDiL. Bleh. Nothing is happening on that front. Nothing is likely to happen on that front. At least it's not a crush. :D

So, shut up, bioAlarm. You're just going to have to chill a while longer. No snugglies for you.

And back to work. Because I have 45 (39) min to finish this homework or I will miss the bus, and I am not going home before I finish this, Insha'Allah, even if that means sleeping in the library tonight. I don't want to sleep in the library tonight.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Time for a change

When something isn't working, you change it. Modify it until it does work. Out with the old, in with the fresh. Spray a little Febreze. All that good stuff.

So. This isn't working. I missed class Friday for a gymnastics show, which was pretty cool, but not nearly as cool as understanding parametrized curves would be. And I do not understand. I have read the book twice, and yet, I am still wandering lost somewhere between P0 and P1. I cannot tell you what they traverse, in which direction they traverse it, or whether they stop at some point and have hot, steamy carnal relations, producing little P3 in the blink of an I = f(J) that is the gestational period of a P. But I digress.

The point is that my current method of studying is not working. This is that method: 1) sit in front of the computer. 2) Initiate willpower. 3) Begin surfing blogs and facebook and guild forums and anything else that will delay the inevitable onset of homework for a few minutes. 4) Realize that I have to do something else or that the day is over and I am out of time.

This method used to work. Back when I was 16 and in the throes of degree no. 1, this worked. But, back then, I had way more time and way fewer distractions. The internet had not yet become the powerhouse of diversion that it is now and my access to it was a lot less constant and uninterrupted. I didn't carry a powerful portable computer everywhere with me. (My backpack was still the size of a small child though. Go figure.)

Anyway, here's the solution:

1) No more missing classes. I will have to cut back on gymnastics activities for this semester, because otherwise I am going to painfully and miserably fail my classes. I don't need that kind of pain and misery.

2) A system of rewards. A system of cheap, immediate rewards. I study for two hours, then I go to the co-op at school and buy a microbrewed ginger ale/cream soda/ginger beer/cherry soda/root beer. I like these and I can put a $1.30 soda in the budget 5 days a week. (The budget is tight atm in order to make it so I can afford to go to Chicago this summer.)

3) Set study periods no longer than 2 hours. I don't have the attention span to sit for 7 hours. Yes, I used to. Now is not then. Get over it, I should, mmmm.

4) I have to stop planning to travel on the weekends. I have to work at work too much during the week for the weekends to be available for going home. The folks will just have to wait til Spring break to see me.

And done for now, because I'm starting to be sleepy. Sleepy is a very good way to feel for someone who doesn't sleep but has to work/study on a normal schedule. Normally, sleepy eludes me pretty effectively.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

homework

aka, I have the attention span of a wasp. buzzzz....

Getting back on track

This blog has lost its way since I started writing it. It was intended to be a vehicle/chronicle of and for my attempts to be less weird, broke, and lonely. Time to get back on track. How? First, finish all my math homework for next week today. 2nd, plan out the writing of my programming project. 3rd, make a budget, apply to the tefl class, and follow up on the housing thing, and sublet my room if I can, so I can go to Chicago this summer. 4th, start training again. 5th, fix my sleep schedule already. 6th, skate race, properly trained for.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

The sun has set and the day is done and is about time...

I started to brush my teeth with sunblock. That's the sort of day it's been.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Just a couple of things, and Fem 2.0, pt. 1

Just a quick post tonight, with more to come tomorrow. (I have massive amounts of homework due tomorrow morning. Even with half of it done, the remainder is still massive.)

But, I just wanted to say that I did actually make it to Fem 2.0 today. I'm glad I went. I asked my mom's question and I think I got some good answers. I have to edit the audio and get it up here. I'm stoked to also hopefully go to She's Geeky in April and BlogHer in July. I think both might be right up my alley and might also give me some good networking possibilities and just a chance to get out there and talk to people.

I would like to address two specific things though, to my regular readers as well as the conference-goers, should any of them read this, especially those in the session where I asked my question. My question was basically "What is feminism?" Here goes.

First of all, my intent was not to label anyone a feminist. I was under the impression that that was the accepted, even expected term. I see that that isn't the case, but I am still a little confused, because the initial reaction I got to my question is the same reaction that I got from my mom when I brought up BlogHer. I had some light shed on that, in my mom's case, being a reaction to social feminists. And I need to investigate that term further. But, I don't understand why it isn't a good thing to be labeled a feminist. Forgive me for my ignorance, but I don't get it.

And if the issue is being labeled in general, as opposed to being able to just exist, I do get that.

The second issue I'd like to address is the name of my blog: WeirdBroke & Lonely came about because for much of my life, I have been lonely. I was one of those children who was too different to fit into the social milieu and straddled the worlds of children and adults very early and for a very long time, because I went to college very early and in times and places without real infrastructure to support me through that process and the process of becoming adult in that environment.

And now, as an adult, I don't drink (alchohol) and don't hang out with people who are drinking alchohol, and I dress Islamically (long sleeves, long shirt, long pants or skirt, headscarf, no face veil), and pray 5 times a day, and don't shake hands with men. Yet at the same time, I run and do anything I have the opportunity to do, especially in active arenas or sports. And all of that, combined with my unique upbringing, keeps me outside of my generation even now. There isn't really any hope for that, that I can see.

If my vision is limited, by all means enlighten me, but by and large I am considered weird by those who would be my peers, friends, confidantes, which leaves me without peers, friends, confidantes, except for one very special individual whom I don't get to see much, you know who you are. :)

In general though, I see myself being very lonely for a very long time to come. The title just acknowledges that, which takes away some of its power. When I studied martial arts more actively, they taught us that the punch that hurts the most is the one that you don't see coming. So by recognizing that I am weird and lonely, I ease some of the hurt that causes.

The broke is a tongue in cheek reference to being in school and isn't quite accurate anymore. Yay!

Special thanks to those who answered my questions. All in all, being at the conference was worth missing classes and work and having a hectic day today. :}

Monday, February 2, 2009

Things I would want to remember if I ever got amnesia (1)

My sister, whom I love dearly, once told me that I have majestic handwriting. I love that. I would want to remember that.

soso is ok sometimes

I talked to my dad on the phone today. Mom too. :)

And I started my budget, which needs finishing asap, and my homework, which isn't due for another two days, at least, one day now.

I'm thinking to write the story of this dragon I was writing about for a choose your own adventure forum game that the players lost interest in. The adventure was ish, but I like the idea I had for the story so I think I'll try to write it. And now, back to trash tv (but online :D ) and intermittent bursts of homework.

And I already prayed and I think I'll brush my teeth now and then when I get tired, I can just pass out. I took the day off already, but now I'm debating actually going to Fem 2.0 tomorrow to ask people what feminism is, or not. We'll see. All I ask of myself is not to let fear and inertia rule the day. If I go, go to be there. If I don't, don't for a good reason. That's all I ask of myself.

I could always go in the morning and then not miss my classes, too. I like that idea.

You know what? I need to go, for my mom. Because it isn't clear, because women like us, she and I, don't know what the word means, and because there's this negative connotation to it that I don't think it deserves.

I should go to that conference. I should do the first year of Obama project too. That's where, starting exactly one month after the inauguration of Barack Obama, I ask one person a day (or, more accurately, I get one usable audio quote per day) about what they think of Obama. And at the end of the year, I have a record and an audio piece and maybe, a pretty cool collection of vox populi. (I think that is the correct term.)

PS: I am in love with Halushki's writing style:

A nuclear family outing, motoring through suburbia at $2.89 per gallon on our way to the local indoor shopping establishment, trying to enjoy our drive even though we can actually hear the thin white needle of the fuel gauge slashing through our bank account like the sleek, sharp scimitars of so many miniature Saudi princes…

http://www.halushki.com/2006_04_01_archive.html

That is poetry.

PPS: I don't get to be miserable anymore, because it looks like my family isn't going to block my plans for the summer. (Don't get all liberationist on me, It's an old-fashioned approach. :) Anyway, being able to make plans is a beautiful thing, even if I won't quite believe them until the airplane wheels touch down this summer and my brother goes back home.

PPPS, because I just can't seem to finish this: Be very fucking careful what you wish for. Remember this little gem of poor amateur verse? Yeah. That's all I'ma say. Just, yeah.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

grumble

I'm tired and I still can't sleep. It's not fair. I want to sleep. Slleeeeeep!

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Sleeep please

I need to go to bed earlier. I keep thinking if I had someone to go to bed for, I'd get more sleep.

Lend me your arms,
wrap them around me,
keep me warm,
and let me
rest

my head,
on your chest.
breathe under me,
and the rise and fall and
rise
of your lungs will be the waves
and rock me off
to sleep.

I like my bad poetry :)

Oh, also, if you're out there, anytime now would be good. Aaaaaaannyttiime.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

the political one

My diet is still atrocious, but that's not the important thing today.

Today, I went to the inauguration of the 44th President of these United States and the 1st African-American President of these same United States. I witnessed history in the making. History was cold and mostly only there because its friends were.

I am glad that I went, but mostly because of a random act of kindness, and because our new President is one hell of an orator. Wow. I had not heard him speak before the speech after he was inaugurated. (Give me a break, I don't follow politics. I didn't vote either. I was studying for a Calculus exam. Also, I live in MD. We don't vote red. And yes, I know that that's a terrible attitude towards voting, but, guess what? I got a relatively awesome grade on that test. That grade is the only reason I'm getting a shot at an A in Calc 2 this semester, instead of repeating Calc 1.) I can't feel but so bad, although deep down I would have liked to have voted. I usually do just for the principle of it, because I'm Black and Female, among other things, and my peoples had such a hard time getting the right to vote in the first place that I feel it generally incumbent upon me to exercise said right.

But I digress, back to my harrowing tale of adventure, Adams Morgan, all-night dining establishments, and bloody fucking cold temperatures.

I got to DC about 12 am this morning, found my bearings on the metro, got to the mall, saw that there was nothing going on except residual alchohol fumes making their way through the train cars (is there no one who parties without drinking?), and figured that I could go home and do yoga, warm up, and get some sleep. Then at the last minute, I hopped off the train, went back one stop to U street and walked to the Diner, a spot that I'd heard of, but never been to. I'd never been through Adams Morgan either, but I walked myself up to the line at the door to the Diner and waited for a table to open up. I had Life on the Line and was reading that and trying not to suck in second-hand smoke from the slightly drunk (?) girls ahead of me.

Actually, everybody I saw seemed at least a little bit alchohol-affected, but I guess that is normal for a party neighborhood at 3 am. I don't judge. You do it your way and I'll do it mine. :)

Anyway, I got into the restaurant and took off my coat and hat and sat down and almost as soon as I did, this woman came up to me and asked me if I was going to the inauguration, to which I replied in the affirmative. Then she asked me if I had a ticket, which I did not since neither Senator's office drew my name in their respective lotteries. Then, she offered me a ticket! She said she had just been waiting for the right person to come along. I was shocked and pleased. I had been planning to just go back to Baltimore at 4 am when the subways started running again. But, this, this changed the game. Now, I had to make use of a stranger's gift. I had to go to the inauguration of Barack Obama, 44th President.

So I did, but first I ate. The subways wouldn't start running again until 4 am anyway.

I got buttermilk pancakes with whipped cream and blueberry sauce and ate 2 of the 3. Restaurant pancakes are always WAY too big for me. Also, I still can't find waffles. I really want a waffle. I've wanted a good Belgian waffle for months now. Months. I had a hot chocolate too, also with whipped cream. I have a thing for whipped cream. It was good whipped cream too and the pancakes were pretty good too and the service made me comfortable, which is sometimes not easy, so all in all that was good too. I'd go back.

I went back to the metro, and rode the green line to the end (Branch Ave) and then people started filling the train up on their way to wait for the gates to open for ticket holders. The gates were scheduled to open at 9 am. It was 5 am.

At 5:30, I got out of the metro station with a bunch of other blue ticket holders (very slowly, since the station was packed).

We filed over to the area in front of the gates and then the waiting started.

At 8:30, the clump of people started to very slowly inch to the gates for bag inspection. We had to open our coats, let a policeman go through our bags and then walk to a spot in front of the capitol and wait. And wait. And wait more. There was a musical interlude and the various dignitaries were announced as they came in.

I had meant to interview people about why they were there, but I didn't, because the reasons seemed to quickly become apparent to me. Some of them were there because they really don't like Bush anymore, if they ever did. They were there to welcome change and usher in the new era.

Some were there because they wanted to be there, to buy a button that said "I was there", to leave their psychic scent mark on the DC air, to move from their normal life in NC, NY, SC, GA, or wherever and be part of something bigger than themselves for a few hours. Some were there because their friends were and they were hanging out and having fun and perhaps going to a ball in the evening.

I didn't interview anybody. I was cold and apparently feeling shy, or just being a wuss, or something.

Anyway, the dignitaries were announced and the crowd displayed their appreciation or lack thereof. Ted Kennedy got applause, as did Colin Powell. Bill Clinton with Hillary got massive applause. Al Gore and Joe Biden were also shown the love. Malia and Sasha Obama got huge applause as did the First Lady-Elect (That's what I'm calling her, since she wasn't yet First Lady at that point.) :}

Bush Sr. and Barbara Bush got applause. Bush Jr. got boos and the singing of a hearty rendition of "na na na na, na na na na, hey, hey, hey, goodbye", which is mean, but then I still have a job and can afford to have some sympathy.

Joe Biden took his oath and there was applause.

I hunched myself up for warmth, cramping most of my muscles in the process, and waited and waited and waited. There was more music: Aretha Franklin!, Yo Yo Ma!; Joe Biden took his oath.

Then, the big show. Barack Hussein Obama (What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name should smell as sweet. So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title...) took his oath of office. Then, he gave the first speech that I had ever heard him give. I had heard that he was a good speaker, but oh my God, I had no idea.

I especially liked the part where he said: "And so to all the other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman, and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and that we are ready to lead once more."

I like the sentiment.

It took me 6 hours to get home. My feet are still cold. My shoulders are still cramping. I haven't logged on wow for two days. (Hey, you laugh but ask a wow player, it's traumatic. :p) But, I went. I was there. I didn't have a better reason, except the idea to interview people and that felt wrong and I wasn't strong enough. But, I didn't force myself to do the interviews. I just went and was cold and I think it was worth it.

I might eventually find someone whose babies I want to have who wants me to have their babies. (Hello, are you out there? Sometime in the next five years would be good. :) )

Anyway, should I find that person and have his babies, our babies, maybe someday I'll get to say to them "I was there." I was there. Maybe it's worth something to the greater world and maybe not. But sometimes, just being there is enough.

And I'd like to end with an acknowledgment of President Obama's speechwriter. You do good work.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Springish Cleaning (preemptively)

No complaining about my diet yet, but here's my yesterday afternoon:

I'm cleaning my room.

That would be the room in my parents' house that I moved out of last April. I didn't clean it when I left. I haven't cleaned it all year. I've been storing stuff in here, mostly mail and empty boxes...and cat filth, aka the gunk, detritus, claw sheddings, clumpy fur sheddings and various furry odors my cat leaves behind after occupying a space.

My rugs need to be thrown out. Oh, and in addition to the cat filth, the cat has destroyed what little pile these rugs had in the first place.

So I'm cleaning my room. Finally. The room isn't as bad as it sounds, I can be in here, but the rugs need replacing.

This is what I've done so far:

2pm: Went downstairs for garbage bags.

2:05: Hugged Mom who is knitting in the sunroom and watching House. Stood there watching house for a minute. Asked Mom where the garbage bags were.

2:10: Left sunroom. Forgot to get garbage bags. Went back upstairs.

2:15: Looked up something on the internet. Debated whether to go back downstairs for garbage bags.

2:35: Turned on WERS for All Acapella radio show. Just missed getting to hear Dani California (sound file). Here's the rest of that album. Linking here in no way promises every song is any good, although that group does some good work.

2:40: Surfed the internet. Started blog post.

2:45: Got up and went back downstairs to get garbage bags, missed part of Sea Breeze (sound file). Talked to Mom again, told her I forgot garbage bags. Rubbed the fuzzy head of the appreciative cat lounging in front of the kitchen heater.

2:50: Brought the garbage bag back upstairs. Blogged more. Read a Halushki post.

3:00: Shelved some library books. Leafed through them while shelving. Realized that though I had read one of them, I had no memory of it. Considered that a good thing because I am looking forward to reading the book. Found Po Bronson's website while trying to get Google to give me the Amazon listing for the book. Tore myself away from the temptation to browse, because I really love his books. Reminded myself to add book and author features to this blog. Remind myself to make Sherman Alexie and Po Bronson the first two featured authors. Remembered that Powell's Books does an author feature section that I really like on their website. Tore myself away and went back to cleaning.

3:20: Told Mom why I want to go to Blogher. (To network and find people with whom to start some sort of company so if I ever find somebody whose babies I want to have who actually wants me to have their babies, I can do what I do for 5 or 10 or 15 years while our babies are babies to teenagers and have a good situation. Yeah, I'm not 19 anymore. When I was 19, the idea of having somebodies babies was unfathomable. Anyway, Mom said something negative. I got huffy. Went upstairs, showed Mom Sleep is for the weak: the book based on the Mommyblogs. Mom wasn't impressed. She doesn't understand why I read the online journals of women with children. I don't of course, I read the online journals of anybody interesting who writes and whose journal I have time to read. So far, that's people in medical fields, people with horses, and, mostly, married women with children. (Amalah and Halushki share the last link. :) )

We argued a little more. I said never mind, it's okay if no one understands me. Mom went downstairs. I went downstairs and apologized. We talked for an hour about the irresponsible people in the family who are currently dumping all their problems on my Dad. I got mildly upset that he gives me guff about the things I want to do. Note that I've been responsible since I was 12 or so, possibly before then. Also note that we're religious (Muslims, yeah, pretty sure I mentioned it sometime before) and he KNOWS he never has to worry about whether or not I'm doing the right thing. I and my conscience do all that good stuff for him. And yet, with all these good and grown people who can't deal with the messes they make for themselves, and everyone else, I have to deal with crap. Unfair. I carried some boxes downstairs and got some split-pea soup (my favorite, yum yum yum) and crackers.

4:45: Random eating and doing stuff. Logged my underage druid on and helped some guildies with BWL. Realized I like decursing and removing poisons and that my druid will most likely be resto at max level. I am not a melee player. I will probably always be ranged dps at heart, but I think I could like healing too.

6:00: Watched Grey's Anatomy, episode 512, season 5:
"You're wearing an alarmingly high ponytail." hahhahaha

6:15: Mom brought in the mail. All I got was one little thing: my W2!!!!! Can you say TAX RETURN? I hope I get a refund. I hope. I hope. I hope. I wonder if I can file as head of household since I have my own place now. A refund would turn around my cash flow. I don't even need that much to turn it around, but a refund would do it.

6:45: Realized that I made almost 3 times as much money this year as last year. Woot! Alhamdullilah! Yay!

7:00: Realized I will actually be paying taxes this year, even though I'll still get a nice return. Started looking up how much of my tuition the government will credit to me. Stopped because my brain started to hurt. Someone please slap me if I ever start talking about going to law school. At least it looks like I can improve my return by quite a bit with a Lifetime Learning Credit.

7:15: Yoga time!

9:00: Done Yoga. I didn't start on time. This was day 5 of my 60 days of consecutive yoga. I fell asleep after a little more than half the routine the day before, but I'm counting it, because in 55 days I will not care that I missed half a day 4 days in.

My room is still mostly dirty. Sigh.

Friday, January 16, 2009

3 days of Yoga!

This is my 3rd consecutive day of doing the full Bikram yoga workout. This is significant because I have a hard time being consecutive in my yoga days. The goal here is 60 consecutive days.

The longest I have gone consecutively before is 30 days, and that was 10 years ago when I first found the Bikram book in the back stacks of a library in Birkama, The Gambia, West Africa. Life is funny. It wasn't the book in that link though, but the first edition. I do have the book in the link now though and it is pretty much the same as that first edition.

I have to email the girl I had gone to the library with, since she is the best friend I have in the world, even though I email her not at all frequently enough, and I still don't know her second son's name. Shame on me. In fact, I'm going to email her right now.

Done! I emailed her. :D

Anyway, hopefully I can get 60 consecutive days. Then I can cut my yoga practice time in half and start working earnestly on my splits. 57 days to go!

Tomorrow, or whenever I decide to/have time to/aren't too lazy to post next: I realize how terrible my diet has become and resolve to improve it for the sake of my body's anti-amenorrhea and anti-anemia mechanisms, among others. I pretty much just assume that I'm always anemic though. I remember trying to donate blood once. That's for the next post though.

Good night DC, peace to all.
WBL

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

A comment! Woooot!

Somebody lovely left me a comment! Wheee, 1st one, evar! People other than my mom read this! Thanks!

Ooh, and I like this writing on the edge, nonstandard screenplay/freeform prose thing she has going on at Blonder Than You. I'm going to have to add her to my blogroll.

That brings up an aside, actually. Notice how I don't have a blogroll. (I'm also using the standard blogger template, but that's a whole 'nother story.) I read blogs from the back forward. I find the oldest post available and I start there and read forward. I have never finished a blog, ie gotten up to what's happening now, this way. Links make it hard.

Take an example: I started reading Amalah a while ago. (I love the way Amalah writes.) Then, I found an Amalah archive that linked to Halushki, and uncharacteristically, I read that day's current post...and I loved it and laughed with it so much that I started reading Halushki back to front. We'll see if I manage to get back to present day. One reason I love blogs though is that they're like stories that unfold and then theoretically one day you get to the part that's happening now. (When will then be now? Soon!) And it's all true!

Oh, and Amalah, I still have you bookmarked! One of these days maybe I'll even catch up to present day. :P

:D

So, now that I'm all excited and energized and whatnot, plans for the coming semester and this still somewhat new year: I've been thinking about focusing more on work in the work/school balance. I have a project to finish this week, which is going along okay so far. I'm telling myself to stay focused, focus like a lens. Thankfully, this time I gave myself a deadline when I set up the project, so it's not as easy to lose focus.

I want to go to Blogher in July. It sounds like great fun and a chance to network and talk to all sorts of cool and interesting people, which I really like to do. Plus, student tickets are extremely cheap. Extremely. I'm just waiting for my cash flow to reverse so I can register. Hopefully, they won't sell out in the couple of weeks that will take.

I want to do at least one large scale skate race this year. The logical choice would be the Chicagoland Inline Marathon because it is the same weekend and general location as Blogher, but my heart is set on Athens to Atlanta. I've wanted to do A2A since I found out about it, about 8 years ago. It's about time.

I'm thinking about taking the next school year off and working. It might give me a different outlook. Then again, it might just be fun. I don't know if I want to do what I do forever, but right now, I.T. is fun for me, especially if I could find something that wasn't all phone support.

I'd live somewhere else too, I think, somewhere with good skating. It would be like a sabbatical of sorts. The more I think about it, the better it sounds.

Last but not least, and completely unrelated to anything else: I'm reading again, mostly nonfiction, introspective stuff to help me get myself going and broaden my perspective as relates to this universe we all live in. I had missed reading books other than my textbooks. Calculus doesn't make for great pleasure reading, even if integration by substitution is undeniably sexy.

Toodles with a side of peace, WBL

Saturday, January 3, 2009

Things I've done this (last) year

Since this is supposed to be a blog where I live free despite being wierd and broke and lonely and wierd and did I mention lonely?, here's the recap of things I did and places I went in 2008. Places I went: Love Cafe. I ate cupcakes, had my first latte and did lots and lots of studying. (I ordered it accidentally but was pleasantly surprised.) Get the middle window seat/couch/booth thingie if you can. Sit at one end of the table and 2 studying student types can fit, which is great for pretending you're less lonely than you are.

Mocha Hut. Bigger than Love Cafe but quieter. I think LC has more laptop hookups, although MH comes out ahead in the wireless division.

I like LC better. It's cozy, the conversational volume is just right for feeling less lonely, and I've not yet had a problem staking out an outlet for the omnipresent laptop.

doom gloom thundercloud

Even my stupid craig's list posts don't get answered. If you ever have the chance to be avant garde and ahead of the pack and whatnot, don't. You'll regret it.

Gloom doom gloom doom thundercloud thundercloud thundercloud gloom. And I have to go back to work Monday. Thankfully, I have a job to go back to, but yugh.

Stardate 58: Have not spoken to a single unrelated soul in weeks. People at work don't count. Starting to wish I could take up social drinking and throw my boobs around unabashedly. That is how people make friends right? No? Could've fooled me.

glooom

doom

thundercloud

This is what time off does to me. Of course, the rest of the time I'm so busy I can't see straight. :-/ Oh well, back to work next week and back home to my comfy little apartment. I miss my apartment, despite the fact that I didn't have time to clean the bathroom before I left for my parents' house and will therefore have to do it when I get back. Not so great.