I hate Halloween. I'm either sick or stressed, both, or neither at this time of year.
Ugh.
WG
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Incubating Death
My RA just popped in looking for the source of a loud and suspicious noise. It wasn't emanating from my room, but as she was leaving she noticed the sign I'd posted on the door.
"What does that mean, incubating death?" she asked, worried and a bit confused.
"Oh, I put that up because I'm sick," I replied, trying to achieve a matter-of-fact tone that didn't seem to work.
"Haha, overdramatic much?"
I shrugged. For the last two days, when I've been awake I've pretty much felt as though I'm a walking corpse. Perhaps it is overdramatic; then again, I normally don't sleep fifteen out of every twenty-four hours.
Obviously, I have neither plague nor meningitis. I have a cold. Colds are the most irritating illness to have because you feel like crap and get no sympathy from the world; it's not as interesting as saying "I have a poisoned spleen," or "My leg is haunted." I chose to highlight the drama of my misery and "incubate death."
According to one of my friends, I'm not allowed to incubate death. My boyfriend took the more succinct route:
"If you die, I'll have no one to visit and will have flown thirty hours for no reason."
That put me in my place.
WolfGrrl
"What does that mean, incubating death?" she asked, worried and a bit confused.
"Oh, I put that up because I'm sick," I replied, trying to achieve a matter-of-fact tone that didn't seem to work.
"Haha, overdramatic much?"
I shrugged. For the last two days, when I've been awake I've pretty much felt as though I'm a walking corpse. Perhaps it is overdramatic; then again, I normally don't sleep fifteen out of every twenty-four hours.
Obviously, I have neither plague nor meningitis. I have a cold. Colds are the most irritating illness to have because you feel like crap and get no sympathy from the world; it's not as interesting as saying "I have a poisoned spleen," or "My leg is haunted." I chose to highlight the drama of my misery and "incubate death."
According to one of my friends, I'm not allowed to incubate death. My boyfriend took the more succinct route:
"If you die, I'll have no one to visit and will have flown thirty hours for no reason."
That put me in my place.
WolfGrrl
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Murphy's Closet
Sometimes I really question my ability to dress myself. Have you ever had a day where everything you put on feels sloppy and awkward? I turn my bed, closet, dresser and desk into clothing mountains and still end up standing around in my underwear cursing.
What is one supposed to do on a day where achieving a satisfactory (we're not even going for perfect or hot, folks) look is just impossible? Usually I end up looking at the clock, panicking, and throwing on some running shorts and a t-shirt. Basic and at least comfortable.
I guess this is our old friend Murphy popping up to annoy us; I didn't think he wrote a law about clothing, but hey, given the prevelance of the issue, it seems probable.
I deliberately buy clothes in solid colors where I can mix and match to create different outfits from a few pieces. But I swear, maybe it's time to change the way I shop; this back-to-basics thing just isn't working right now. And stealing my roommate's clothes on a daily basis both sets a bad precedent and is rude.
My final outfit (after I got fed up with digging through my dresser and put on the first thing I found) is yesterday's white tank top and a black skirt. All that work, and I look...muh.
Perhaps there's a reason why the adjective of the day is so frequently 'muh.'
WolfGrrl
What is one supposed to do on a day where achieving a satisfactory (we're not even going for perfect or hot, folks) look is just impossible? Usually I end up looking at the clock, panicking, and throwing on some running shorts and a t-shirt. Basic and at least comfortable.
I guess this is our old friend Murphy popping up to annoy us; I didn't think he wrote a law about clothing, but hey, given the prevelance of the issue, it seems probable.
I deliberately buy clothes in solid colors where I can mix and match to create different outfits from a few pieces. But I swear, maybe it's time to change the way I shop; this back-to-basics thing just isn't working right now. And stealing my roommate's clothes on a daily basis both sets a bad precedent and is rude.
My final outfit (after I got fed up with digging through my dresser and put on the first thing I found) is yesterday's white tank top and a black skirt. All that work, and I look...muh.
Perhaps there's a reason why the adjective of the day is so frequently 'muh.'
WolfGrrl
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
This Day In History
Today I want to give some love to my boyfriend, who is both dedicated and wonderful. He surprises me every day, and manages, even when I'm at my absolute crappiest, to make me smile.
I know it's a bit sappy, sweetie, but tough. I love you. You make my world a better place. Happy anniversary, M.
G
I know it's a bit sappy, sweetie, but tough. I love you. You make my world a better place. Happy anniversary, M.
G
Monday, October 22, 2012
So Close, So Far
I understand how it feels to be powerless. Sometimes, the hurts aren't things you can fix. Sometimes, the reasons your loved ones suffer are unknown. I am so close to my friends, my sisters of the heart, that holding out my hand to them feels like everything I can do, and yet not enough. These girls, these women, are so strong; the strongest people, after all, are those who can smile at the little things, and whose hearts haven't been hardened by the big, tough things.
I wish I knew the words to let them know that the tunnel, the darkness, the sadness and defeat and confusion doesn't last forever. But we struggle in different ways; we come from different places, different worlds and views. The common ground we've built is strong enough to weather any storm, but our storms are unique.
I know I love them both, and that I would bleed if I thought blood would save them. But that's not helpful. That's just words.
I remember how it feels. I don't remember how it feels for them, but I remember feeling worthless and beaten down, a pawn of the world - and an unimportant pawn at that. I remember feeling like a failure. I still sometimes feel like a failure.
Those memories bring me close to them; so close, and yet so far. Everyone always pretends (and I'm guilty of this myself) that nothing takes any effort. That's a lie. Do you hear me, you two? That. Is. A. Lie. It all takes effort. Living takes effort. Failing takes effort. Overcoming the sense that you're failing takes incredible effort. It's up to you to decide if what you have, or what you can have, is worth expending that effort.
No one can tell you to expend that effort. Not me, not the school, not your parents, not the president or the military or God. No one but you can tell you to live, love, laugh, cry, do or die. I promise you that. It's terrifying to realize you are in control. It sucks sometimes when you screw up and you want to blame someone, but it's only you.
Do not blame yourself. Stop it right now, both of you. Stop, pause, rewind, listen. Listen to yourselves.
I had to hurt myself before I learned that it's ok to cry. I had to cry in the dark for years before I learned that it's ok to cry in the light. Cry, loves. Eventually you'll start to laugh. Let it go. Let it out. Scream. Throw something. Sob. Swear. Run. I tried running from my problems. I tried screaming. I tried the most passive form of action: dying. You can absolutely do what I did; I'm not sure that I would have listened if someone told me what I'm trying to tell you. But I'll never know. I'll never remember.
It feels like work and the world control your lives; don't let them. Give work and the world faces and personalities. Are they bullies? Control freaks? Parents? Overachieving classmates? Overly helpful friends? If they have faces, they have personalities, and they have something you can push against. Work and the world do not own you. You own them. You walk them beside you like well-heeled dogs. You look them in the eye and say, "This is my life. I understand my choices and what they mean. You won't make me feel guilty for choosing myself over you. I am Me, and I want to know Me without you."
It sounds silly. It sounds childish. It might even sound impossible. Pick something easy. Boss your cat around. Make your stuffed animal into a Homework Nazi. Practice saying No. Sing it in the shower. Run to its rhythm. Beat a pillow, kick a ball. Crumple up piece after piece of paper. Throw the squishy. Talk at someone. (Not to someone, but AT someone.)
It will be ok. I promise. I promise you that. The only way it won't be ok is if you give in.
Just remember: giving in isn't giving up or changing course. Giving in is doing nothing at all.
WolfGrrl
I wish I knew the words to let them know that the tunnel, the darkness, the sadness and defeat and confusion doesn't last forever. But we struggle in different ways; we come from different places, different worlds and views. The common ground we've built is strong enough to weather any storm, but our storms are unique.
I know I love them both, and that I would bleed if I thought blood would save them. But that's not helpful. That's just words.
I remember how it feels. I don't remember how it feels for them, but I remember feeling worthless and beaten down, a pawn of the world - and an unimportant pawn at that. I remember feeling like a failure. I still sometimes feel like a failure.
Those memories bring me close to them; so close, and yet so far. Everyone always pretends (and I'm guilty of this myself) that nothing takes any effort. That's a lie. Do you hear me, you two? That. Is. A. Lie. It all takes effort. Living takes effort. Failing takes effort. Overcoming the sense that you're failing takes incredible effort. It's up to you to decide if what you have, or what you can have, is worth expending that effort.
No one can tell you to expend that effort. Not me, not the school, not your parents, not the president or the military or God. No one but you can tell you to live, love, laugh, cry, do or die. I promise you that. It's terrifying to realize you are in control. It sucks sometimes when you screw up and you want to blame someone, but it's only you.
Do not blame yourself. Stop it right now, both of you. Stop, pause, rewind, listen. Listen to yourselves.
I had to hurt myself before I learned that it's ok to cry. I had to cry in the dark for years before I learned that it's ok to cry in the light. Cry, loves. Eventually you'll start to laugh. Let it go. Let it out. Scream. Throw something. Sob. Swear. Run. I tried running from my problems. I tried screaming. I tried the most passive form of action: dying. You can absolutely do what I did; I'm not sure that I would have listened if someone told me what I'm trying to tell you. But I'll never know. I'll never remember.
It feels like work and the world control your lives; don't let them. Give work and the world faces and personalities. Are they bullies? Control freaks? Parents? Overachieving classmates? Overly helpful friends? If they have faces, they have personalities, and they have something you can push against. Work and the world do not own you. You own them. You walk them beside you like well-heeled dogs. You look them in the eye and say, "This is my life. I understand my choices and what they mean. You won't make me feel guilty for choosing myself over you. I am Me, and I want to know Me without you."
It sounds silly. It sounds childish. It might even sound impossible. Pick something easy. Boss your cat around. Make your stuffed animal into a Homework Nazi. Practice saying No. Sing it in the shower. Run to its rhythm. Beat a pillow, kick a ball. Crumple up piece after piece of paper. Throw the squishy. Talk at someone. (Not to someone, but AT someone.)
It will be ok. I promise. I promise you that. The only way it won't be ok is if you give in.
Just remember: giving in isn't giving up or changing course. Giving in is doing nothing at all.
WolfGrrl
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Vacationitis
I wish I was back on vacation, yet at the same time, I really like the order of my everyday life. This weekend I spent travelling between friends, visiting those I don't get to see that often and expanding my horizons. Now I am back in my dorm, facing the pile of homework with more cheer than I might otherwise.
I never gave much credence to the Eastern art of Feng Shui, but I can speak for the efficacy of re-arranging one's environment. I may unintentionally adhere to the princples of FS, but there's something relaxing about changing up my routine in a set manner. All this is a thoughtful way of saying, at around 9:00 PM last night, I moved my entire dorm room around.
I can't stay long in the world of the blog today, but I thought I'd mention something that actually relates to the theme of Teacup Humanism: it is quite a workout, moving furniture, when you're under 60 cm tall. I recommend it for those of you who dislike or don't have time for the gym. Even if you move everything back to its original location, it was still a way of spending time, unblocking your chi, and burning calories.
Can't beat that.
WolfGrrl
I never gave much credence to the Eastern art of Feng Shui, but I can speak for the efficacy of re-arranging one's environment. I may unintentionally adhere to the princples of FS, but there's something relaxing about changing up my routine in a set manner. All this is a thoughtful way of saying, at around 9:00 PM last night, I moved my entire dorm room around.
I can't stay long in the world of the blog today, but I thought I'd mention something that actually relates to the theme of Teacup Humanism: it is quite a workout, moving furniture, when you're under 60 cm tall. I recommend it for those of you who dislike or don't have time for the gym. Even if you move everything back to its original location, it was still a way of spending time, unblocking your chi, and burning calories.
Can't beat that.
WolfGrrl
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Midterms and Musings
I feel rather cheerful at the moment. Whoo-hoo for that, long may it last!
Let's see...fun news, fun news...
I learned I am not able to an honors thesis in the major of my choice, but that's not very fun. Hmmm... Was noch? (Yes, that's German. As I tell everyone, French is for amusement and frustration, German is for everything else, and Italian is me trying and failing to speak Spanish.)
It's almost Halloween, and that means candy-corn! I can't believe you haven't heard of candy-corn; shame on you. Well, the Happy Dinosaur won't be visiting you. I will be a cute little kitty for Halloween. I'm told it fits my personality.
Anyway, I finished my last midterm exam today; now I can breathe for four days before I begin working on the next run of papers and other delectable assignments. Poo. (I whine; it's not that bad.)
My computer arrives on Friday! I'm so excited for a New Toy! So excited that...I speak in exclamation points and elipses. Oops.
I have been making lists. You all know how much I love lists. I have one of my more interesting classes this afternoon, and then I get to go wrangle small children who are much better behaved than I first thought. I'm really liking the Happy Dinosaur. Perhaps I should include him more often. (I have so many random photos saved on my computer; you have no idea, Reader.)
I am wearing pigtails today, since it started out cold and now it's warm. Hurrrrr. These in-between seasons require three or four changes of clothes a day. Good thing I am flexible with my wardrobe. None of my professors would approve of the way this post is structured; I hope none of you are newbies to me, otherwise I'll scare you off with my wackiness. But...I am just so wacky right now!
Let's see, was kann ich auch sagen? (I miss German, but not German class, hahaha.) The clock in the belltower is chiming two...two...two... Once the holiday season arrives they set the chimes to play hymns and carols; my favourite carol is either Silent Night or Do You Hear What I Hear. Yes, I am this person that won't sing carols in December, but sings them in May instead. Shush. I'll do as I please.
I received, via email, a lovely surprise the other day; a commission I'd ordered months ago from a Polish artist who does phenomenal ink work. I can't post it here (and besides, I'm still enjoying having all of my characters together at last) for copyright reasons, hers and mine. But now that I mention it, I'm not sure I've given my little rant/spiel about my novel. Yes, I have written a novel. No, it's not finished (and somehow, I don't think it ever will be. Sighhh). Perhaps I shall write about it when I have nothing more to say on another random topic.
My computer battery is driving me insane. In other news.
Tootles! I'm off to find something else to do.
WolfGrrl
Let's see...fun news, fun news...
I learned I am not able to an honors thesis in the major of my choice, but that's not very fun. Hmmm... Was noch? (Yes, that's German. As I tell everyone, French is for amusement and frustration, German is for everything else, and Italian is me trying and failing to speak Spanish.)
Anyway, I finished my last midterm exam today; now I can breathe for four days before I begin working on the next run of papers and other delectable assignments. Poo. (I whine; it's not that bad.)
My computer arrives on Friday! I'm so excited for a New Toy! So excited that...I speak in exclamation points and elipses. Oops.
I have been making lists. You all know how much I love lists. I have one of my more interesting classes this afternoon, and then I get to go wrangle small children who are much better behaved than I first thought. I'm really liking the Happy Dinosaur. Perhaps I should include him more often. (I have so many random photos saved on my computer; you have no idea, Reader.)
I am wearing pigtails today, since it started out cold and now it's warm. Hurrrrr. These in-between seasons require three or four changes of clothes a day. Good thing I am flexible with my wardrobe. None of my professors would approve of the way this post is structured; I hope none of you are newbies to me, otherwise I'll scare you off with my wackiness. But...I am just so wacky right now!
Let's see, was kann ich auch sagen? (I miss German, but not German class, hahaha.) The clock in the belltower is chiming two...two...two... Once the holiday season arrives they set the chimes to play hymns and carols; my favourite carol is either Silent Night or Do You Hear What I Hear. Yes, I am this person that won't sing carols in December, but sings them in May instead. Shush. I'll do as I please.
I received, via email, a lovely surprise the other day; a commission I'd ordered months ago from a Polish artist who does phenomenal ink work. I can't post it here (and besides, I'm still enjoying having all of my characters together at last) for copyright reasons, hers and mine. But now that I mention it, I'm not sure I've given my little rant/spiel about my novel. Yes, I have written a novel. No, it's not finished (and somehow, I don't think it ever will be. Sighhh). Perhaps I shall write about it when I have nothing more to say on another random topic.
My computer battery is driving me insane. In other news.
Tootles! I'm off to find something else to do.
WolfGrrl
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