The fabulous rabbit flies at night

Today I found out that my friend has a blog.

A secret blog.

A blog that is a secret and in which she talks about her secrets.

I feel betrayed.
Not actually, but I'm a very nosy person and now I want to read this blog.
I need to read this blog.
But she won't let me.

I've tried to convince her that she should let me read it and then we could come up with code names to refer to all these secret things and it would be so cool. She agreed on the coolness factor of the code names but still won't show me the blog.

I am distraught.
And painfully curious.
Mostly the latter.

Also now I have all these code names and I feel they must be put to use. I'll wear her down... Or get bored bothering her about it... Or wait until she's drunk and ask her...

Meanwhile, the fabulous rabbit flies at night!

Aha! Solid proof that I'm doing my reading!

Which is not, of course, the only reason for this post.

I just got to a line about Henry McBride talking about Gertrude Stein:

"Laugh if you like, he used to say to her detractors, but laugh with and not at her, in that way you will enjoy it all much better." (p. 121).

I think perhaps we would all enjoy life much better if we laughed with people and not at them. Or I'd like to think that anyway. I'm not saying that I don't laugh at people instead of with them. I am just as guilty of basking in Schadenfreude as anyone else, possibly more so, to be entirely honest.

But I'm going to try this. If I start laughing with people instead of at them, maybe it'll catch on and then I'll feel like people are laughing with me instead of at me and I know that I will enjoy that much better.

OK, back to reading....

Do not ask me why, but this amuses me to no end.

I think maybe I've reached the end of my rope. I'm so fried that the only things my brain can process at this point are "book" and "cat". I determined last night while talking to my mother on the phone that close proximity to a cat is really a necessity for my sanity. I am not in close proximity to a cat. I have a stuffed llama named Antonio, but he just isn't doing the trick. And thus we wave goodbye to any semblance of sanity I had left when I started the semester.

Anyway, now that I've picked apart why this picture resonates with me (the only two things left in my brain), is it any less amusing?

Nope. Still giggling like a maniac. I might be scaring the people in Carpenter who have the misfortune of being near the circulation desk.

Well back to a certain "autobiography" which brings to the forefront a whole different kind of crazy...

Second time this week...

An all-nighter haiku:

My fifth cup of tea.
Chirping outside my window.
Damn you cheery birds.

:)

I made a book today!

It's blank. And short -- only like 12 pages/3 sheets of paper, but IT'S A BOOK. THAT I MADE. How cool is that?
(The answer: really).

So yea, my friend and I are taking a printmaking and bookbinding class through the art club. Today was our second meeting and we worked on some printmaking stuff, but in between we learned very simple binding. It was really simple and fun and will help me once I start pam binding at Canaday (which will happen once we find the needles that have gone missing...).

Anyway, I should probably get back to work. The class ended at 10 and then my tea excursion took way longer than expected (this one probably could not have been avoided with my brilliant plan of yester-post though. We actually went to UG because we were hungry, but I never turn down an opportunity for tea) and I have an Italian presentation tomorrow. And one more article to read for my other class.

I AM GOING TO BED BEFORE 3 AM TONIGHT IF IT KILLS ME.
(i hope)

Maybe one of the cats or dogs knocked it into my head...

Having returned from an unfortunately timed tea-fetching excursion (long story short: Murphy and his damn law had a blast) during which I learned that my trench coat is not as water-resistant as I had once believed (in that it is not at all water-resistant), I have had an epiphany of sorts.

For some time now I have been debating getting an electric kettle. The up-side is that it caters quite well to my overall laziness (I have a brita pitcher not so much because I like filtered water, but because it means fewer trips to go refill my water bottle), the down-side is that my room is tiny and I don't really have anywhere to put it.

But to the epiphany...

(Almost).
I basically live in Carpenter. It's kind of ridiculous. People I don't know have actually commented to me about it before. I bring multiple bags with me when I go because I can't fit everything I need into my backpack. It's really kind of ludicrous, but what can you do? Anyway, I also enjoy the not-so-odd cup of tea. As a result, I often find myself at Carpenter feeling the need for the aforementioned cup of tea. But then I would have to leave Carpenter, go to my room and either make tea or get money and head over to Lusty Cup or Uncommon Grounds for tea (UG has this jasmine green tea that I am currently obsessed with. sooo yummy!). All of these options take a large chunk out of my staring-at-whatever-I'm-supposed-to-be-doing-while-wanting-to-bash-my-head-against-the-wall-time. I drink a lot of tea, and those moments can add up.

So epiphany: If I had an electric kettle, I could simply bring it to the library with me, along with teabags and my water bottle (which I always have anyway). When I need a refill, I would simply use the water out of my water bottle (which could be refilled at the water fountain by the bathroom -- you see? I've figured everything out) and plug in the kettle. Once the water has boiled, it goes over the teabag in my travel mug and the kettle gets put away.

Genius, right?

It was kind of a joke at first, but the more I think about it, the more I like this idea.

Now I suppose I should return to working.

Ugh. I'm feeling quite unlovely today. Hopefully my jasmine green tea will help...

It made me happy...

I don't have a tumblr, but I thought that I should
share the happy

Dreary dreary dreary.

It feels like a Sunday, but it's a Saturday. A dreary Saturday. Ugh. There may be tea in my future.

Today I went to a yoga class for the first time in a really long time. I thought yoga would be good because it's moving, but not high impact or anything. I think I forgot that I've spent the past 3 or so months not really moving unless it was necessary. That plus the extreme anemia = me being really weak. Didn't really think that one all the way through...
It was good though. I couldn't do everything, but it felt good to be moving around and to know that as I get healthier I'll be able to do more.

I am, however, not really looking forward to tomorrow when I'm all sore in muscles I forgot I had...

It'll be fine though. I hope. I think I want to do yoga at school, but I'm not sure if there are any clubs that do it, or if it's only the gym class. Of course, I also don't know if I really have time... If I can, I should really try to make time. It'll be good for me, both physically and mentally and, let's face it, I have to work on my health on both of those fronts.

OK, moving on to productivity.... or, more likely, further procrastination.

Post of Mornings Past

I wrote this a few mornings ago and for some reason did not post it. Now I guess I'm on a blogging roll...

I am now dreaming about witty blog posts. This is a PROBLEM.

It would not be a problem if I remembered said witty posts and could regurgitate them here for your reading pleasure (?), but nooooo, all I remember is that they are witty. That and some line about "your initials are w-i-n. Congrats. Now stop talking, we hate you."

...I think maybe it was wittier in context? Or my dreams have lower standards when it comes to what is witty... The point is, I am witty in my dreams. I think I'm witty and other people also think I'm witty. Not so in real life.
Damn.

Sung to the tune of "Tradition" from Fiddler on the Roof....

REMISSION!!!!!! Remission!

So yea, had my procedure and talked to the doctor today and my UC is officially in remission. I'm still going to have some other symptoms and I have to come off the evil pill of doom slowly, but the point is I GET TO GO OFF OF IT!

Sorry. I'm really excited about this. All of this has been so frustrating and knowing that the end of this chapter is in sight is really exciting. I can't wait until I feel back to normal. I have to keep reminding myself that it will take a while, that everything won't go away immediately and that it'll take time to really heal and get my energy back and all that, but now there's hope and I don't have to go on stronger immuno-suppressant drugs and all of these are very good things.

So yes. Rejoicing.

Let the crises begin...

So I'm watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer (don't judge me, Buffy rocks), and it's the episode where they go to the prom and Cordelia and Buffy get kidnapped/hunted by various evil things, only they think it's Buffy and Faith.... anyway, that's not the point. The point is, the main coordinator of the evil things has just welcomed us to Slayerfest '98. That's right. '98! It has been over 10 years since this episode of Buffy aired for the first time.

Does that make anyone else feel old? Not in a 'hey, look, I'm all mature and whatnot now' kind of way, but in a 'holy crap, I'm old' kind of way?

What's going to happen when we're legitimately old and can freak out about more relevant things than television shows and the relevance of our pop-culture references?

That's all for now. I think the late night blogging will probably continue sporadically throughout break since I appear to become nocturnal every time I return home...

"Anxiety is the hand maiden of creativity." ~T.S. Eliot

So I am theoretically an artsy/creative/crafty person. Theoretically. Maybe I’m “artistically inclined?” It’s sort of like the powers that be decided to give me all the interest and then forgot about the talent.

I don’t mean this in a self-deprecating kind of way. It’s kind of just the truth. I like “artsy” things and I’m always trying to get into creative things. I’m in art club and writing club. I list dance and theatre and photography among my interests on facebook. But when I actually try to do something artsy, I kind of fall flat. It just doesn’t work out the way I planned.

I actually kind of love photography. It makes me happy and every time I get into ‘photo mode’ I just feel better. It also makes me feel connected to my grandfather. He died my senior year of high school and he was an amazing (but technically "amateur") photographer. You’d think that I’d cling a little harder to something that made me happy before his passing and something that I feel strengthens the connection with him, yet for some reason I’ve gone ages without taking photos. I miss it, but for some reason I just haven’t taken the initiative and really gone out and taken photos. I don’t know why. Maybe that will be one of my goals over break. Besides getting my work done, which is a necessity and therefore doesn’t count, I’ve made goals for myself:

I am going to read. For fun. I like to read and it is Spring BREAK so I will take a break and read. And then I will go back to doing my homework.

I will work on being healthy. I don’t mean working out or eating better or whatever. I mean I will go to my various doctor’s appointments and hopefully they will make the necessary adjustments that will get me healthy. Being sick sucks. Being sick at school and not wanting to talk about it, but needing to acknowledge it because it’s not just a cold and isn’t just going to go away and it is going to affect my everyday life really sucks.

I am going to write. This is sort of like doing homework because I intend to write insightful, interesting blog posts (well, dammit, I’m going to try), but I also want to start writing in my notebook (OK, OK, it’s a journal. I know. But I don’t like calling it a journal and diary is even worse. Just let me call it a notebook. Or I could call a spade a spade and call it my moleskine and then the world will know just how pretentious/artsy-wannabe I truly am and oh my god this parenthetical has gotten so out of hand I need to stop. Now). Theoretically the notebook was going to be for all my musings, which would be insightful and lovely and could be published posthumously and everyone would marvel at my wisdom…. That and creative writing. Instead it’s mostly entries that start off acknowledging my failure to write regularly and then peter off into some sort of bitchfest of one sort or another.

But I digress.

This post was about my failure at being artistic. Maybe I just lack motivation? Or commitment? Or (as the progression of this post might suggest) focus?

OK, so here’s my brilliant plan:

In between work (ugh. It’s called Spring BREAK. It’s supposed to be a BREAK from schoolwork. Why do professors think BREAK is some sort of code for now-you-have-time-to-do-even-more-work? Fall and Spring BREAK [yes, I’m going to keep writing it in all caps] exist to give us a BREAK because someone, somewhere realized that this is when students need a BREAK or we will have a BREAK-down. Sorry, I just needed to let that one out. Anyway…) I shall:

1. Read my designated “fun books” (yes there are multiple books. I know break is only a week. I was feeling ambitious. And indecisive. Have you noticed the pattern in my bad life choices?). I’ve already started Anna Karenina (judge me all you want, but I like the Russians. My family has already made fun of me for the fact that Tolstoy is my ‘light’ or ‘fun’ reading. I brought The Aeneid to the beach, I don’t know why they bother mocking me any more, but it’s what my family does. We mock those we love. If you come to a family gathering and we mock you, congrats, you have just been welcomed into the family), and I also took out A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius from the library before I left, so we’ll see what happens…

2. Really try to write in my (calling a spade a spade) moleskine.

I really do want to write more. And not just because of all those literary prizes they sent out activities emails about (though if I write anything that I think has a chance, I’m going for it. I’m broke and need all the money I can get. The ego-boost and ability to write ”____ literary prize winner” on a resume would be kind of nice too…), but also because I often find myself either feeling motivated to write, but not having anything to write about, or having something to write about, but not feeling motivated to write. I figure if I make a habit of the writing, maybe those two feelings will actually coincide at some point and wouldn’t that be spectacular? I feel like I’m a decent writer. At least some of the time. I think I have potential. I might actually turn out something decent if I ever had time to take a creative writing class. If only, if only…

Once again, I digress. Where was I? Oh yes.

3. Take photos. This might be more for after break when taking my camera around with me everywhere I go will prove more fruitful because “everywhere I go” will be more than from the TV room to the kitchen and back again. Maybe I will ease myself into my intended photo-taking frenzy and start by taking faux-artsy photos of my pets. They are, after all, adorable. I’m starting to like this idea. I warn you now, if this happens, you will see these pictures. There will be a post, probably multiple, of pictures of my pets with comments about how cute they are. It will be annoying and obnoxious. Feel free to skim those comments. Or maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe I’ll sneak important information about life, the universe, and everything into the comments about my adorable pets. And then you will be left in the dark. After all, my blog is clearly something you must read through leisurely and without skipping. In other words: read everything carefully. There will be a quiz later. But back to the point (sort of?)…

You may not have realized this yet, but I am a future crazy cat lady. I mean, there’s a possibility that I will find the man of my dreams and get married and not be a crazy cat lady in the sense that my only relationships are with cats, but I will possess the other necessary characteristics. I will be crazy, I will be obsessed with my cats, and unless I go through a really intense identity crisis, I will be a lady, hence: crazy cat lady.

Right now I am an equal-opportunity crazy pet lover. In addition to my 2 cats, I have an insane dog and I am just as obsessed with her as I am with my cats. Sometimes more so because she is more outwardly affectionate and while having 50 pounds of panting dog pretty much sitting on top of you may not be the most comfortable or typing-conducive position in the world, it does make one feel loved or appreciated or something, whereas having the cat pretty much on top of my head licking my hair (it’s weird, she does it with everyone if given the chance. I cannot explain it and sometimes I take it as a sign of affection, but mostly it) just makes my neck hurt.

But where was I? Working backwards… working backwards… obsession with pets… artsy pictures of pets… PHOTOGRAPHY! RIGHT!

I’m not sure I actually have more to say about photography. I like it. I will try to do more of it. I may attempt to drag some of you lovely Mawrtyrs into bizarre photo-shoots because as big of a fan as I am of the artsy-picture-of-random-object, it is sometimes nice to have people in pictures.

It might be time to stop writing for the night… er… morning.

I am home now and therefore away from my mini-fridge. Back in 2001 when my family re-did our kitchen, our contractor made us promise not to put crap all over the front of our fridge. For the most part we’ve kept that promise. We have a little notepad with a magnetic pen and a few tasteful magnets. If there’s some sort of special occasion, we have recipes stuck up there for easy-access, but otherwise the fridge is mostly clean. I tell you this as an explanation for my current lack of magnetic poetry. I have 2 ½ tins worth on my tiny mini-fridge at school, but, alas, am magnetic poetry-less here at home. If I were feeling more creative I might attempt to generate some amusing poetry without the help of pre-printed magnetic words, but I have a feeling that anything I found particularly amusing right now might not be appreciated by others… or possibly even by me later on.

Right. Stopping now.

So I lied…

I just saw a commercial for “Booty Pop Panties” for the second time tonight. I realize I am watching horrible wedding shows on WE TV at 4 in the morning, but really? REALLY?! There is a line and that commercial crossed it. I need to stop watching late-night TV…

Another 'Not Real Post'

I feel like I might just epitomize BMC right now.

I am sitting on my bed, literally surrounded by books, reading Emily Dickinson and drinking tea.

Also note the time stamp.

Back to being Bryn Mawr...

Recognized as 'Not a Real Post'

It is cold out, but not frigid.
And it's raining.
I feel the need for tea.
Hello March.

Is it significant that the acronym could conceivably be BAA?

For Bryn Mawr Addicts Anonymous, of course. Or BMAA works too, I suppose. In fact, if you say it out loud, it almost sounds like you’re saying ‘Bryn Mawr’ – you know, if you had a stutter and some convoluted version of a Boston blue-blood accent…

I should maybe abandon that while I’m ahead…

I feel it is time I stand up and come clean. I am obsessed with Bryn Mawr.

Now, I’ve always loved Bryn Mawr. As most of you know by now, I transferred here for my sophomore year and I still think it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Keeping all this in mind, I need to point out that this obsession is a relatively new phenomenon – one that has cropped up this semester.

You see, I studied abroad last semester. I was in Italy and, generally speaking, it was an absolutely amazing experience except for a bit of a medical mishap toward the end that resulted in a lot of pain, frustration, and me leaving nearly two weeks early.

I spent Winter break healing and doing make-up work and watching waaaay too much bad TV (there are like four different horrific bridal/wedding shows on TV at any given moment and for some reason I started watching ALL of them, but my bizarre attraction to terrible television requires its own post) and eagerly anticipating my return to the Mawr. And so it began…

It started out small. I was excited to be back on campus and see all my friends. It was nice going back to work in Carpenter and even attending classes. In a weird way, eating at the dining hall was kind of nice (yea, that part has kind of worn off).

Then I decided to “get involved.” I decided that I needed to be more involved in life on campus. I joined clubs and committed to doing things. I started paying attention to activities emails. I volunteered to work Plenary (bad life choice, but I think I missed the boat [ba-dum-pssh] on the plenary rant). I applied to be an HA. Did I mention I started paying attention to activities emails? I mean, really. That should have been red flag number 1.

Red flag number 2: I found myself spending more and more time randomly browsing the Bryn Mawr College Bookshop. Somehow, and for some inexplicable reason, in my summer and semester absence from Bryn Mawr some part of my brain decided that everything I own should say ‘Bryn Mawr College’ on it somewhere. Everything.

I’m still struggling with this one. Every time I have to venture into the bookshop I have to remind myself that I don’t actually need a pen with the BMC crest on it. Similarly, I don’t think anyone in my family would really appreciate a BMC license plate cover. And as cute as those baby clothes in the corner are, I don’t know anyone with babies. Yet I want to buy all of these things. “But it says ‘Bryn Mawr’ on it!” squeals the BMC-obsessed part of me as the other, thankfully slightly more rational, parts of me struggle out the door.

Basically, I blame study abroad. As great of an experience as I had, it really made me miss Bryn Mawr in some respects and I was/am really happy to be back. Yes, sometimes I miss Italy (and who knows, maybe I’ll return to Florence and suddenly feel an urge to buy all the Firenze merchandise I can find), and now that we’re comfortably settled into the semester it feels like all I do is bitch and moan about how much work I have to do (but that is very Bryn Mawr, after all), but Bryn Mawr feels right. And I now have a new obnoxious yellow bag, ID holder, water bottle, decorative flag, and travel mug, all emblazoned with ‘Bryn Mawr College’ to show for it.

Baby steps people. Baby steps.

At least I’ve admitted I have a problem…

And now I leave you with a piece of wisdom from my mini-fridge:

I want my blue sky giggle

(‘BMC themed magnetic poetry! That would be awesome!’ squeals my crazy Bryn Mawr-obsessed mind.)