The mornings are kind of hard, what with having to get up and feed myself and the cat and get to school on time. But nights are the worst. I wanted this apartment with the separate rooms so that we could be together 24/7 and still have our privacy. But it isn't that way. You're always at your boyfriend's house to sleep, and when you get home from classes you're either cranky or sleepy and neither is very much fun to be around.
Not to mention we have next to no food. I have eaten ramen noodles and popcorn today. And a bagel. That is all. It was your turn to buy the groceries this week, but you bought maybe $30 worth of food because you spent our food money on your sorority dues because you quit your job. Just quit the sorority! You hate it anyway.
And our cat! He is sweet and lovable but you yell at him when he knocks your stuff over on accident. You never feed him or play with him. He watches the door when you leave and sits by your bedroom door waiting for you to get home.
Please be here for us. We miss you.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
And the green grass grows all around
I've been here for about a week now - actually, exactly a week. My plane landed at 11:00pm last Thursday. I was so excited to be home - green trees, grass, blooming flowers, my bedroom, my family, my friends. It seemed to me that everything I loved was here. But...that is not so. I have also grown to love the searing heat of the Arizona desert (well, not love exactly), the intense glare of the sun, the bustle of an actual city. And now I find myself pining for Arizona the way I used to pine for Wisconsin. And whenever someone asks me what I'm doing after college, I get a sinking feeling in my chest. My answer used to be an instantaneous "Oh, I'm definitely going back home." But now the thought of trading the wild beauty of Arizona for the equally lovely if a bit more domestic Wisconsin is harder - the lines of home have blurred. If home is where the heart is, and my home is in two places, does that mean my heart is in two pieces?
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Get me a one way ticket on the FAILboat
I pretty much had an FML weekend. I sat around, watched some BSG, and ate. OH EXCEPT FOR MY CONCERT WHICH WAS GOOD.
And. Just thought you all should know, I'm going to be singing for EL PRESIDENTE DE LOS ESTADOS UNIDOS.
Goodnight.
And. Just thought you all should know, I'm going to be singing for EL PRESIDENTE DE LOS ESTADOS UNIDOS.
Goodnight.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Smiles and Denials aren't enough
It's been six years.
I say I hate April. I say it's because it's a crappy month, the end of school, too many tests, etc, etc, etc, and I let it go unspoken or unknown why I really hate it. I really hate it because the tears start in April. I start to have a really awful week, and for some reason I can't hold the tears in anymore, and I start to cry in class. And then it hits me. It's April. Of course.
It didn't used to be the whole month. A couple of years ago, only the second week in April was hell. But for some reason (probably me blowing it out of proportion) the hellishness extended itself into the whole month. And honestly, April probably wouldn't be so bad if the tears were just confined to the reason I hate April. But through some stupid cosmic joke, everything upsets me. School, work, boys, television, EVERYTHING. And then when I finally have someone to talk to, to cry on, the tears won't come.
I hate April because my Momma died on April 14th, 2003. And I hate it. I hate that I still feel like I can't talk about her death without making people feel uncomfortable. I feel like I can't talk about that night, because the horror is just too much for people. And meanwhile it's eating me up. So. Since this is read by no one, I'll just tell you.
The whole week before she died was awful. We had to rent a hospital bed and put it in the living room because she couldn't walk up the stairs anymore. Her friends came over with gaudy fat-lady underpants because her body was swelling up with fluid, and I couldn't hug her without feeling her wince in pain. But she still smiled and kept herself busy - picking out the curtains in our living room - yellow and lacy to match the sunny yellow walls. On her last day I was in the living room, about to go out for something, when she called me over. She tried to talk to me about what she wanted for my future - a husband that would show me the world - and I brushed her off. I can remember the condescending smile on my face, the "Oh, okay," I said as I patted her hand and walked away. I'm so ashamed that the last conversation we had went like that. Because later that night, the fluid in her lungs had gotten so bad that we had to call an ambulance. I remember sitting in the kitchen as the ambulence pulled up in the driveway, and writing a poem about how much it hurt, not fully participating in the scene. It just felt so surreal, a feeling that persists to this day.
Maggie and I were hustled off to Aunt Karen's house, where we were put into the bunk beds. I couldn't sleep. I stared at the digital clock on the dresser and at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling and waited for sleep. It didn't come. Aunt Karen came into our room at around midnight, and said "It's going to happen tonight." We got into the minivan and drove to the hospice. It was deceptively beautiful and peaceful. Our footsteps echoed in the hallway, and then we were in the room. She lay on the bed, unconscious, breathing loudly, and occasionally making pitiful crying noises. My dad said that she wasn't in any pain, it was just the air going past her vocal cords. I don't know if that was true. Her parents and best friends were there, all looking haggard and tired. My dad encouraged us to say goodbye. And I just hung back. I can't remember if I said goodbye or not. The next thing I remember is driving back to the glow-in-the-dark stars, and then Aunt Karen's quiet footsteps in the room, and a whisper. "She's gone. She's in heaven now."
It took a year and a half to really sink in. The smiles and denials worked for a while, but there was the day when all the walls I'd built suddenly crashed down, and I was able, for the first time to really cry for her, and for me. And ever since then, April has been my nemesis. I haven't been back to her grave for 3 years. I can't do it. Just like I couldn't listen to her. Just like I couldn't say goodbye, just like I couldn't cry.
I say I hate April. I say it's because it's a crappy month, the end of school, too many tests, etc, etc, etc, and I let it go unspoken or unknown why I really hate it. I really hate it because the tears start in April. I start to have a really awful week, and for some reason I can't hold the tears in anymore, and I start to cry in class. And then it hits me. It's April. Of course.
It didn't used to be the whole month. A couple of years ago, only the second week in April was hell. But for some reason (probably me blowing it out of proportion) the hellishness extended itself into the whole month. And honestly, April probably wouldn't be so bad if the tears were just confined to the reason I hate April. But through some stupid cosmic joke, everything upsets me. School, work, boys, television, EVERYTHING. And then when I finally have someone to talk to, to cry on, the tears won't come.
I hate April because my Momma died on April 14th, 2003. And I hate it. I hate that I still feel like I can't talk about her death without making people feel uncomfortable. I feel like I can't talk about that night, because the horror is just too much for people. And meanwhile it's eating me up. So. Since this is read by no one, I'll just tell you.
The whole week before she died was awful. We had to rent a hospital bed and put it in the living room because she couldn't walk up the stairs anymore. Her friends came over with gaudy fat-lady underpants because her body was swelling up with fluid, and I couldn't hug her without feeling her wince in pain. But she still smiled and kept herself busy - picking out the curtains in our living room - yellow and lacy to match the sunny yellow walls. On her last day I was in the living room, about to go out for something, when she called me over. She tried to talk to me about what she wanted for my future - a husband that would show me the world - and I brushed her off. I can remember the condescending smile on my face, the "Oh, okay," I said as I patted her hand and walked away. I'm so ashamed that the last conversation we had went like that. Because later that night, the fluid in her lungs had gotten so bad that we had to call an ambulance. I remember sitting in the kitchen as the ambulence pulled up in the driveway, and writing a poem about how much it hurt, not fully participating in the scene. It just felt so surreal, a feeling that persists to this day.
Maggie and I were hustled off to Aunt Karen's house, where we were put into the bunk beds. I couldn't sleep. I stared at the digital clock on the dresser and at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling and waited for sleep. It didn't come. Aunt Karen came into our room at around midnight, and said "It's going to happen tonight." We got into the minivan and drove to the hospice. It was deceptively beautiful and peaceful. Our footsteps echoed in the hallway, and then we were in the room. She lay on the bed, unconscious, breathing loudly, and occasionally making pitiful crying noises. My dad said that she wasn't in any pain, it was just the air going past her vocal cords. I don't know if that was true. Her parents and best friends were there, all looking haggard and tired. My dad encouraged us to say goodbye. And I just hung back. I can't remember if I said goodbye or not. The next thing I remember is driving back to the glow-in-the-dark stars, and then Aunt Karen's quiet footsteps in the room, and a whisper. "She's gone. She's in heaven now."
It took a year and a half to really sink in. The smiles and denials worked for a while, but there was the day when all the walls I'd built suddenly crashed down, and I was able, for the first time to really cry for her, and for me. And ever since then, April has been my nemesis. I haven't been back to her grave for 3 years. I can't do it. Just like I couldn't listen to her. Just like I couldn't say goodbye, just like I couldn't cry.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Spring Break and Other Adventures
So spring break was pretty great actually. I shall expound in haiku form.
Short flight to San Fran
Lost my iPod, woe is me
Alas, no more tunes.
Walked around city
Sea lions swam, basked in sun
Chowder in bread bowl.
Breathtaking landscape
Walked dog around park, up hills
Exhausted dog, me.
Took Old Time Picture
in Old-Town Sacramento
Saw Arnold's Office.
Read books - vampires,
wizards, and funny memoirs
Relaxing, restful.
Flight back, late at night
boring without my iPod
Home sweet home, Tempe.
And now Maggie is here and taking up all of my free time and apartment space. I tend to keep my apartment fairly tidy - I make an effort to do dishes every day, keep my junk from piling up, etc. But now that she's here her stuff has exploded ALL OVER and it is making me really anxious. She doesn't do her own dishes, her clothes have taken up my entire side of the room, and she's always around. And I love her to death, but she's driving me bonkers. 10 days is WAY too long to spend on vacation, especially in a small, one-bedroom apartment. I have no private time and I'm pretty sure Michelle is going crazy too. Blerg.
I just realized that in my last stanza of the haiku, I referred to Tempe as home sweet home. And really, that's kind of how I feel about it. I love Wisconsin, but against my wishes, I now have a second home. I've become accustomed to warm weather in March, with nary a cloud in the sky. I've grown to love the smell of orange blossoms in the spring, and the smell of the dust mixing with the rain after a storm. So I'm sorry my Appleton friends, but Tempe is my home now too. And I don't know how I'm going to deal with that in two years.
Short flight to San Fran
Lost my iPod, woe is me
Alas, no more tunes.
Walked around city
Sea lions swam, basked in sun
Chowder in bread bowl.
Breathtaking landscape
Walked dog around park, up hills
Exhausted dog, me.
Took Old Time Picture
in Old-Town Sacramento
Saw Arnold's Office.
Read books - vampires,
wizards, and funny memoirs
Relaxing, restful.
Flight back, late at night
boring without my iPod
Home sweet home, Tempe.
And now Maggie is here and taking up all of my free time and apartment space. I tend to keep my apartment fairly tidy - I make an effort to do dishes every day, keep my junk from piling up, etc. But now that she's here her stuff has exploded ALL OVER and it is making me really anxious. She doesn't do her own dishes, her clothes have taken up my entire side of the room, and she's always around. And I love her to death, but she's driving me bonkers. 10 days is WAY too long to spend on vacation, especially in a small, one-bedroom apartment. I have no private time and I'm pretty sure Michelle is going crazy too. Blerg.
I just realized that in my last stanza of the haiku, I referred to Tempe as home sweet home. And really, that's kind of how I feel about it. I love Wisconsin, but against my wishes, I now have a second home. I've become accustomed to warm weather in March, with nary a cloud in the sky. I've grown to love the smell of orange blossoms in the spring, and the smell of the dust mixing with the rain after a storm. So I'm sorry my Appleton friends, but Tempe is my home now too. And I don't know how I'm going to deal with that in two years.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Too much coloring, not enough thinking
So I have this problem.
I like to color pictures of Disney Princesses (All except Snow White. I really dislike her.).
That is not the problem.
I also like to experiment with the colors of their outfits.
That is not the problem either.
I cannot find a workable color alteration for Ariel.
That is the problem.
Jasmine and Belle and Aurora and Cinderella are all very easy to swap colors on - it is plausible that they have other outfits than the ones they are always drawn in. After all, they are princesses. But no matter how I try, I cannot get any tail and shell bra color combination besides green and purple respectively to work for Ariel. I feel like I am letting her down.
I tried a magenta tail and an orange bra once. That was awful. Less awful but still not aesthetically pleasing was the blue tail and pink bra. I just don't know what to do! I feel like I am letting her down by not being able to give her a different color combination! She must get so bored watching all the other princesses get pretty new outfits while she has to stick with her rather uninspired purple and green motif.
On a different note, I spent approximately six hours today watching Alias. And I remembered just why I love that show so much - all of the characters are completely believable, they draw you in and make you sympathize with them. Even the bad guys have motivations and are well characterized. I don't care what you say, more dramas need to be like Alias. Character-driven with interesting plot points in between.
And on a final note - MAGGIE'S COMING TOMORROW!!!!!
I like to color pictures of Disney Princesses (All except Snow White. I really dislike her.).
That is not the problem.
I also like to experiment with the colors of their outfits.
That is not the problem either.
I cannot find a workable color alteration for Ariel.
That is the problem.
Jasmine and Belle and Aurora and Cinderella are all very easy to swap colors on - it is plausible that they have other outfits than the ones they are always drawn in. After all, they are princesses. But no matter how I try, I cannot get any tail and shell bra color combination besides green and purple respectively to work for Ariel. I feel like I am letting her down.
I tried a magenta tail and an orange bra once. That was awful. Less awful but still not aesthetically pleasing was the blue tail and pink bra. I just don't know what to do! I feel like I am letting her down by not being able to give her a different color combination! She must get so bored watching all the other princesses get pretty new outfits while she has to stick with her rather uninspired purple and green motif.
On a different note, I spent approximately six hours today watching Alias. And I remembered just why I love that show so much - all of the characters are completely believable, they draw you in and make you sympathize with them. Even the bad guys have motivations and are well characterized. I don't care what you say, more dramas need to be like Alias. Character-driven with interesting plot points in between.
And on a final note - MAGGIE'S COMING TOMORROW!!!!!
Monday, February 16, 2009
Betsy's playlist!
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Seriously?
So here I am in my three hour lecture. It's a pretty big class. We go over the syllabus, check out the calendar, discuss assignments, and then my professor sits down at her desk, crosses her arms and says "So. Tell me about yourselves."
Seriously? We're really going to waste my valuable time/money on juvenile getting to know you crap? We're not in high school anymore, and I expected that these silly rituals would be left behind.
Lame.
Seriously? We're really going to waste my valuable time/money on juvenile getting to know you crap? We're not in high school anymore, and I expected that these silly rituals would be left behind.
Lame.
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