Rats, cooking, and France are apparently not for me

I keep hearing really good reviews for Ratatouille. I've generally liked the Pixar movies and such, and I love The Incredibles, and the guy who directed that also directed this one. But I have absolutely no desire whatsoever to see this movie. I mean, I don't think it looks bad or anything, but...a rat who likes to cook? I don't know. The other Pixar movies have had storylines that made me want to see them (I think...I might have been ambivalent about some of them, now that I think about it), but I don't know. I'm sure I'll see this one eventually. But probably not for awhile. I'm ok with that.

I sometimes wish, very strongly, that I didn't live at home anymore. I mean, my family's (usually) pretty great, but...I just don't want to be here anymore. I never really got it when my friends talked about how much they hated going home on breaks and such. Particularly summer break. And while I don't exactly hate it, it sure would be nice not to live at home. (I know, I know, I'm a naive 21 year old, what the heck do I know, I'll be eating my words in a few years, whatever.) I can't live here forever, though, and I'll be glad when I get out of here and get on with my own life.

I can't help but be a grammar snob

Lately, I've been getting so irked reading blogs, message boards, comments, etc, and seeing just deplorable grammar, spelling, split infinitives, sentences that end with prepositions (which, granted, sometimes is hard or impossible to avoid. It just sounds weird to say "Let out him" instead of "Let him out"). Even in articles I read, I often find myself pausing over a sentence here and there, rewording it so that it sounds better in my head before I can move on to the next sentence. Now, I know that sometimes people make typos (heck, I do it all the time), or just accidentally type something that they might not have necessarily meant to type (I often realize that I wrote "of" instead of "off" or I'll write it's when I most certainly do not mean "it is," or, on occasion, I'll realize with horror that I made one of the they're/there/their or your/you're mistakes. But sometimes, it seems like people actually do not realize that typing "your" is not correct for meaning "you are." Because they do it over and over. Or I notice people going all apostrophe-happy. Adding them when it's really just a pluralized word that absolutely does not need an apostrophe. (How's this for funny? When typing need just now, I type nead. Which, I'm pretty sure, isn't a word. At least, not one I've ever used.)

Seriously, though, I don't know how anyone's going to know grammar or spelling at all in 25 years, if even that, if this horrible Internet-speak stuff continues. That's what I think contributes to it, somewhat, because people just don't care on the Internet, and then it spills out to real life so that they don't know what's right and what's wrong. Part of the reason why, with few exceptions, I keep my "Internet-speak" down to just not capitalizing. And that's usually just on instant messenger. I think being able to communicate effectively (and not to effectively communicate) is very important, and I think that having a good sense of grammar and spelling are integral aspects of that. They're just not emphasized anymore, it seems. I've probably learned more grammar from taking Latin, and maybe Spanish and French too, than I ever did in any English class. And I've just always been good at spelling. Probably thanks to my love of reading from a very young age. It's just ridiculous, sometimes, the things people can't spell. And man do those unnecessary and incorrect apostrophe's get to me. (Haha. Annoying, no? Yeah, probably not, because most people aren't grammar nazis like me.) And the their/there/they're and such. Seriously. It's not hard to figure out which is correct.

(I hope I don't have any glaring, obvious mistakes in this post. Wouldn't that be sad. And sorry to be complaining yet again about people who shouldn't be allowed to write anything ever. But I haven't complained about this kind of thing in awhile! And it's just so irritating. Ruins the whole reading experience for me. Makes it flow horribly. So...leave me alone.)

Catching up...nevermind.

I've resisted the temptation to blog the last 24 hours because I just want to keep that last post at the top of the page! But that just can't last forever. So, back to my boring old selfish stuff. Sorry, everyone.

Firstly, James. (Or, Baby Jimmy as Jason calls him.) Oh man. What a cutie. It's really amazing, too, because everyone was fully expecting him to have to spend at least a few days probably in the NICU (given that they wanted to deliver him now, four weeks early, because of his enlarged liver -- which, according to the doctor who saw him yesterday, is "generous" but not really a problem, it seems -- as well as the fact that it was just a crazy pregnancy. To say the least). Well, he was upstairs in the nursery on the maternity ward about four hours after he was delivered, after having some tests run and such. So that was just awesome, and everyone's so happy and relieved. Especially Cathy, obviously. And apparently he's nursing like a champion which is great. Jason wasn't so good right away, but he did get the hang of it. It's just one less thing for Cathy to worry about with James, thankfully. Anyway. I went over there three times today (hey, I got nothing better to do, since, you know, no one wants to hire me and all. I'm kinda happy about that right now, truth be told, for a little while anyway). I went in the morning with Mom and stayed an hour or two or something, I don't really know, then went back in the afternoon by myself and got to hold him for quite awhile (which is obviously so much fun. There's nothing like holding a sleeping newborn baby, watching all the faces they make and such. Man). And I went back after dinner with Mom and Dad. So yeah. He's great. And has lots of dark hair. Well, lots is probably a relative term, I'm sure there have been lots of babies born with lots more hair than James has now, but compared to our baldy Jason (who is still, after two and a half years, trying to grow enough hair to need a hair cut. It'll be awhile), he's got a lot. And it's dark too. Jason's hair (what he has anyway, haha) is fairly light. Light brown anyway. But yeah. So anyway. Things are really good on that front. Much better than expected. And Cathy's doing ok, considering. She's obviously still in pain; she did have surgery yesterday, after all. But I think she's a lot better now even with the pain, having the pregnancy over and having James here and doing really really well.

He's so cute. I'll post some more pictures here soon (although most people probably won't be too interested in them. I think they're adorable though. And I have some with his hat off, which it wasn't with the pictures I took yesterday during the little time we saw him). You all should be jealous that you're not related to such a cute baby. Unless you are. Hehe. Anyway. Plus there's Jason, who's quite adorable too (and man he seems so big now! And James seems so tiny! Even though Jason was only three weeks early, and was about 5 ounces smaller when he was born. Crazy how they grow so fast). He (Jason) seems to know that Baby Jimmy's his brother and all that fun stuff, but he's still getting used to the idea. It'll be interesting to see that adjustment. Anyway though.

Oh, I was going to post more, but I just don't want to right now. oh well. Guess it can wait.

Introducing...

James Daniel Smith!

Born June 28, 2007 at 6:32 pm.
7 lbs, 11 oz (4 weeks early!)
19 3/4"

Plenty more pictures to come, I'm sure.

Just a few more hours

or less, I guess, until I meet my new nephew! I think the C-section is scheduled for around 3:45 or something. But I'm not sure how all this will work once he's out, so I don't really know when I'll officially get to see him. But hopefully, it'll be soon!

Delving in

So, I'm not usually much to discuss politics too much (controversial issues, sure, sometimes, but politics? Eh). I used to be into politics, back in the summer and fall of 2004 (election time, anyone?), but then it just got to be too much for me. There's lots of nastiness in politics, and many politicians just seem so...insincere, that I don't really want to pay attention to any of them. But, I have to pay attention every time an election rolls around, because it is my country too. And as you may or may not know, there's a rather big-time election coming up in a year and a half. Given the likelihood of who might be the two major contenders come election time, I'm kind of concerned about where we'll be two years from now. I'm really really kind of worried that Rudy Giuliani is going to end up being the Republican nominee. I don't think that I would be able to vote for him, in good conscience. And I'm quite certain I wouldn't be able to vote for whoever the Democratic nominee is. Especially if it's Clinton. Eesh. I just hope I don't have to choose between one of those two and "throwing my vote away." Let's hope that whoever does end up the Republican nominee isn't a pro-gay marriage, pro-choice barely Republican almost wanna be Democrat.

Don't recollect if I've ever mentioned Old Reliable before...

(10,378 cool points if you can name where that quote came from. Without the help of Google. Or a similar search engine. Or even a dissimilar one. Hint: It comes from a childhood favorite of mine. Oh, that narrows it too much. Oh well.)

Now what was I going to talk about? Oh yeah. I don't think I've ever mentioned. I love Conan O'Brien. Oh man. And when Will Ferrell or Jim Carrey are on? Forget about it. Dude, that man is hilarious. And he has the best hair. Haha. It's awesome. Love it. The whole thing. Great stuff.

Time for bigger and better

I haven't written about this at all yet (perhaps because I don't want to let myself get too excited about it yet), but last Friday, Dad bought a new car. It's a 2004 Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo, in black. He sold our old trusty conversion van that we've had for...well, a really long time, and which we put something like 160,000 miles on. (Actually, he just sold it today, but that was going to be an end result of getting a new car, kind of.) That van took us to New England (and New Jersey and such) and back, several times, as well as a trip out to California one summer. But it's been showing its age lately, and it was time for it to go. The other objective for this new car is that I'll be taking it back to school with me come August. (And Dad will be using my car, my nice also trusty 94 Oldsmobile.) My Olds, while still in pretty good condition, is not exactly quite trusty enough for a cross-country trip. So the plan for this summer was to find a nice, fairly new SUV-type car, with enough room in which to pack all my stuff and that wouldn't break down (at least, hopefully) in the middle of Nowhere, Iowa. Wow I'm making this post longer than expected. Eh, might as well go with it.

So last Friday, I took Jason (who I was watching for a few hours while Cathy went to an appointment) and met Dad at a Kmart parking lot (classy, right?) near the highway, where there was a temporary used car tent sale thing going on. I don't think he was planning on getting something that day, but lo and behold, two hours later, he's negotiating with the people. I, who have no taste for bartering, had left by this point, with Jason who was starting to get antsy. And Dad came back awhile later with this Jeep, which both of us had test drove, and which I liked, but I wasn't really picky about this. It is my dad's car, after all, much as I might wish differently, and he is the one paying for it. Obviously I had to have some say, as I will be driving it around for a year. But anyway. I was trying to stay aloof about the whole thing, even after it came home to rest in front of our house. I don't want to get too attached, you see, because it's not mine. And I don't deserve it. (I feel quite bad that I'm taking it to school, even though that's what it's for and why we got what we got, because Dad deserves, after all these years, to drive a nice car. A few years back we got a fairly new Honda, but it's Mom's car, primarily, and Dad's been driving the van for years. So I feel bad taking this from him now. Even though I don't think he sees it like that. But anyway.) However, obviously I wasn't going to keep myself from driving it. So I've driven it a few times. Including to school and back yesterday. And man, do I enjoy that car.

Don't get me wrong, my car has treated me well the last four years. We work so well together, and it responds so well to me. We know each other, and we're used to each other. But I know we won't be together forever. And I can't help but compare my somewhat worn car to this new shiny black Jeep. For example. Both have CD players, of course. My car, however, has one of the most sensitive CD players known to man. I go over a little bump in the road, and my CD skips, or pauses for a few seconds. And in a city with lots of little bumps (and even more big ones), this makes for a not very smooth listening experience. The Jeep? Doesn't seem to have that problem. Know what else the Jeep has? Working reverse lights. Mine haven't been working for quite some time now. Not a big thing, but a thing. Recently, the passenger side door has decided not to open from the inside. It requires me (the driver) to lean over, pull the handle from the inside, while the passenger pulls it open from the outside. It's a two-person process now. A cute little quirk. And it's always weird for me to drive a car in which the blinkers actually make noise. Mine never have. At least, not since we got it. And actually, that's probably more of a good thing than an annoyance, because sometimes blinker noise can get annoying if you're stuck at a light for an hour. Or, you know, like two minutes. Haha. Anyway. So my car's got its old-car quirks. But I do still love driving it. It's served me well, and we've had some good times together. Not to mention the fact that the inside is slightly less than immaculate, so I don't really have to worry about getting it dirty. (I hate to dirty things that are clean. If they're dirty already, no worries.) But this Jeep. It's wiggling its way into my heart, one unnoticed bump at a time. And you know what else? It has a clicker! As in, a plunger with which I can lock and unlock the car when I'm some distance away from it. When I first got my license, I primarily drove a red Buick, with leather seats (or maybe fake leather?), buttons on the steering wheel with which I could control the radio (a feature which I still greatly miss...sigh), and a plunger for locking and unlocking. (And I think opening the trunk, too.) It was a nice thing to have, when my arms would be full of books and backpacks and other miscellaneous items. So it's nice to have that again. Although, I've gotten quite used to locking the door immediately upon opening it, practically, or just before closing it, in my car. But that reminds me of something else. I wonder if the Jeep will shock me every time I close the door like my car does? I've become so programmed to getting shocked that I always pause a second (without really realizing it) before shutting the door. When I get out, I mean. Kinda makes me laugh. Anyway. Didn't notice it the few times I've driven the jeep, but I don't usually notice it with my car anymore either. Anyway.

And there's one more thing. I've never been one to name my inanimate objects. I know some people name their cars, their computers, maybe their houses. I prefer to keep the names to things like pets. And, I guess, stuffed animals. Although I think I only used to give the really special ones names. (And, incidentally, I always felt bad when I would spend more time with one stuffed animal than another. Except for my few absolute favorites that I didn't sleep with out. They were practically all real to me, and I didn't want any to feel left out. And now? Most are stuck in plastic bins, stacked in my closet. Hm.) Anyway. I was driving the Jeep yesterday, and the thought occurred to me that I should name it. I have no idea why I would name it. (Remember? It's not mine.) And then the name Knute came to mind. (As in Knute Rockne. Not as in a Knut, a unit of money that's smaller than a Galleon.) And for some reason, in my mind, it fits. Haha. Ah, I'm such a loser. Oh well.

I can't believe I just wrote that much about cars. What is wrong with me? Boy, that's probably a question I don't really want people to think about too much. We'd be here all night, we would.

It's hard to make Susie do schoolwork in the summer

A week or two ago, lots of the blogs I visit (some randomly, some daily) were passing around this "8 Random Facts" meme. Because I'm bored tonight, and don't want to finish the reading I have to do for class tomorrow, I'm going to pretend someone tagged me. As usual. Haha. (Too bad I have no friends who blog. Well, one. No one else I know personally does though. They're just so not cool.)

1. I hate using the phone. Despise it. Don't ask me why. If I have to make a phone call, I always try to wait until there's no one else around, or I'll go sit on the porch or in my room or something. I don't know why I feel more comfortable talking on the phone when no one's around, but I do. (This usually isn't the case if it's like my sister or some other immediate family member that I'm talking to.)

2. I never learned how to dive. I may have tried a few times, but then eventually I reached a point where I felt weird being that age and not knowing how to dive, so I didn't want to practice in front of everyone and reveal that I couldn't.

3. I really don't like drinking anything that doesn't have ice in it. Well, unless it's like hot coffee or hot chocolate or hot tea. Things like water, soda, even juice sometimes, they just always taste so much better with ice. Especially water. I hate drinking water without ice in it. Which usually results in me not drinking enough water, especially at school. I just so much don't like my drinks to be room temperature. I mean, if I'm desperate, that's one thing. But regularly? Ice it up, baby.

4. I used to have a Lady and the Tramp poster in my room. I might still (I'm pretty sure it's on the wall somewhere), but it used to be right next to my bed, way back when I used to share the room with my sister and had to sleep on the top bunk. Anyway, on the bottom it has the Disney logo, and of course says Disney and whatnot in that signature Disney way. Which means it has that crazy D. And it wasn't until I was...well, quite old I think (in my teens somewhere), did I realize that the crazy D was, in fact, a D. And I still laugh every time I see it, because I remember how shocked I was when I realized that. I'm pretty sure I used to think it was just some sort of symbol, or maybe like...a D in some other alphabet, or...I have no idea. But obviously it wasn't logical.

5. I like things to remain as much as possible like they were when I first got them. So, when I have a pair of earrings, I dislike throwing away the cardboard piece that they're attached to, because that way I can make sure that each earring always goes in the same ear. Which means I waste a lot of space, because you can only fit so many of those cardboard backs into a jewelry box. But me being the somewhat obsessive-compulsive that I am, I hate mixing up the earrings and not knowing which one usually goes in which ear. Sometimes it just happens, and then I get over it and no longer care about putting it back on the cardboard piece, but I try to keep it from happening whenever possible.

6. I often claim, when asked, that I really have no specific memory that sticks out as the "most embarrassing." But, then the other day I was thinking about it for some reason, and a memory popped into my head. I don't know if it's truly the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to me, but it was pretty embarrassing at the time. I was in 6th grade, and my class (it was either English or Social Studies I think) was in the library, I guess doing research maybe? Anyway, I was trying to get my teacher's attention to ask him something, and for some reason, I called him Daddy. I didn't even realize it until one of my friends started laughing at me. Anyway. I got over it, but it was pretty embarrassing.

7. Sometimes I dislike summer because, for some reason, summer evokes the most feelings of deja vu of any season. Little whiffs of summer air, or the rustling of a tree or something, and I'm reminded of summers past (although sometimes I'm not sure if it's real memories that come to the surface, or just...something else). I hate deja vu, so when that happens, I don't really like it. (I think I hate deja vu because sometimes I hate those nostalgic feelings of times that are gone forever, that I can never get back, and that I sometimes wish I could get back.)

8. For some reason, despite being a germophobe, it really doesn't bother me not to wash my sheets very often. I guess I figure, I take showers in the morning, so what do I care if my sheets are dirty? I like the feeling of nice, clean sheets as much as the next person, but sometimes it seems like such an unnecessary waste of energy to wash sheets. And boy is it a pain to remake the bed with the clean sheets. If this fact makes you want to stay away from me, I completely understand. Maybe this year at school, when I don't have to deal with attempting to put sheets on a top bunk in addition to the effort it takes when a bed is firmly on the ground, I'll be more gung-ho about sheet-washing. (And perhaps in the future, I should place my bed in such a way as it is not against a wall except at the head. That'd sure make the whole process easier.)



There you have it. Now you all know me so much better. Haha.

This time, my brother's got it right

Awhile ago, Tom showed me this website. And I must admit, it's made me chuckle on more than one occasion. Including today. I guess the permanent link (should someone come across this after there's a new one) is here. Anyhoo. Just thought I'd share. Because aren't we taught that sharing is nice? (For the record, the thing that really made me laugh was the horrible pun this particular comic contained. I'm a big big fan of puns.)

Overexposure?

A few minutes ago, I saw something that said the word "gallons" on it. For a split second, I thought it said "galleons." If you don't know what that is, then, well, you're just not cool enough for me to explain it, and that's all there is to it. All I know is, I'm ok with seeing the word galleons random places. Man I wish I lived in that world. Haha. Twould be so sweet. Especially the Apparating part. Ohhhhh yeah.

The loveliness of post-its

I've decided that I need to start carrying around a pen and a pad of paper everywhere I go. Including places like the kitchen, the bathroom, my bedroom, etc. Because it's when I'm in a place where I don't have access to paper or pen that I think of something I don't want to forget. And then I forget it because I have no paper or no writing utensil. And this is simply quite irritating. So. That's what I want to do. I don't know that I will, but I should. I mean, when I'm in my bedroom, I have post it notes on my nightstand which I utilize quite often. Maybe almost every day, even. Because right when I'm about to fall asleep, I think of something that I want to remember. And I won't be able to go to sleep until I know that I'll have a chance of remembering it in the morning. Hence, the post-its. I love them. Love love love. I currently have about three on the bookmark that's being used in the book I'm reading right now (Harry Potter 5). Anyway. For a forgetful person as myself, post-its are one of the best things ever invented.

What the Dell?

I need to call Dell. I've written about it before, but my computer is continuing to piss me off with its lack of registering when the power cord is plugged into it. I had been planning on calling them today because it's getting on my nerves. And then I was watching Jason and I didn't feel like calling, etc. Now he's gone, and for the second time today, the power cord is not registering at all. Often it registers like it's loose, so I have to find some position for it in which it stays registered on the computer (lately I've taken to hooking the cord around a corner of the screen, because it seems that when the cord is being pulled up a little, it registers well). But right now, and earlier today, it's doing the thing where it just doesn't register at all. So I have to wait for the battery to run down and then for the computer to go into hibernation, and then I can plug it back in and it'll work fine. Well, as fine as it does. Twice within a few hours, though, is just ridiculous for this. I've talked to Dell about this problem before (over Christmas break, I believe), and they ended up sending me a new power cord to see if that was the problem. Shortly thereafter I left for school, and didn't have a problem with it at all the whole semester. At all. But since I've been home, problems all over the place. So I have to call them. Here's the thing: I hate, with a fiery burning passion, calling Dell. Every time I call them, I'm on hold for like an hour before I talk to someone, and then they're just idiotic when I finally do talk to someone. Results in me wasting a few hours of time and being very annoyed. I mean, I guess usually they fix the problem (or, send someone out here to fix the problem), but ugh. I really wish there were somewhere here that I could go and talk to someone in person, show them the problem, etc. But I guess there's nowhere here where I can go and have them fix it and still have it covered by the Dell warranty my computer is under. So I'll have to call them. I hate calling people normally. I really hate calling people when I know I'm going to end up being on hold for an hour before talking to someone. I hate being on hold. With their stupid music and breaking in every once in awhile to give me some automated message about one thing or another. Bleh. But it's either deal with that, or deal with this stupid power cord problem. I don't even know how they can fix this thing though, is what I'm worried about. Because it's not the power cord, it's where the power cord attaches. Sigh. Oh well. C'est la vie.

Interesting.

This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:
-death (2x)
-hurt (1x)


I wonder how they figure this stuff out, because I know I've had some words in here that I've seen listed on some of these I've seen at other blogs. Odd.

Unpossible

I was lying in bed last night, attempting (rather unsuccessfully, for awhile) to shut off my brain so I could get to sleep. And at some point during this process, I was thinking about school, and about housing and such, and wondering what friends of mine in other dorms became RAs, things like that. And then this led to the realization (because only seniors can be RAs at Notre Dame) that I'm going to be a senior. In college. A senior, people. Where the heck did the last three years go? How can my time as an undergrad at the great, awesome, wonderful University of Notre Dame be nearing its close? I'm not supposed to be a senior yet. I just barely started college! This isn't right.

I'm scared about how fast I know this year is going to fly by. I'm not ready to be done yet.

I'm trying to up my post count

I'm quite near 700 posts. There's (probably, barring any surprises) going to be a rather momentous occasion happening in my family later this week, and because I like things to be orderly, number-wise, or something like that, I think I would like my 700th post to be about something quite exciting. So. Whereas I might just cram lots of things into one post normally, I'm trying to spread it out today and tomorrow and stuff. It's easy enough since my posts often tend to be random jumbles of various thoughts that pop into my head over the course of a day or a few hours or something. Less labels per post this way. Haha. (Hey, you like the new template of my blog? I don't really look at my own blog that often, but today I decided it's been the same long enough, so I changed it. I voluntarily changed something! Amazing!)

Anyway. The main point for this post is nothing exciting. I got the stuff in the mail yesterday for the JPII Institute. And, as expected, having it all together in one places is just awesome. Most of the interesting stuff is in their little academic catalog, including the course offerings, what the two years spent getting the MTS (Master of Theological Studies) looks like, course-wise, things about student life, etc. And the admission is done on a rolling basis, so there's no specific date it has to be turned in. Anyway. It's just making me more excited about this possibility. I can't believe I'm considering this so much. I mean, I'm not the type to live in Washington, DC. Heck, I didn't even want to leave Colorado for college, and I never figured I would stay away from Colorado after graduation. But...man. I don't know. If it's right, then it'll work out and all. No point worrying about it either way like I tend to do about things. But back to the fun stuff. One of the things mentioned in the academic catalog is liturgical life or something like that, and of course it mentions the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception. Which is like a block or two from the Catholic University of America, or at least the area of it where the JPII Institute is. AND, in the listing for Sunday and Holy Day of Obligation Masses, it specifically says that one of them is a solemn Mass. Solemn Mass=happy Susie. So that's most definitely an exciting prospect. Mmm hm. And it lists two places that has housing for female students, both fairly close I guess. That's one thing that's kinda troublesome to consider, living in DC. (I don't know, I just get kind of a...don't walk around alone at night type of vibe from DC.) Those two places are probably fairly hard to get, I would think, and if I didn't I would most definitely want to try to get a roommate. I think I'd be a little freaked out living by myself in DC. Anyway though. Another interesting thing that they mention is a dress code. And it lists "inappropriate dress," which for women (there's also stuff for men but as I am not one I don't really care about that list) includes things like casual sandals including flip flops, T-shirts, jeans, athletic wear, shorts, tank tops, etc. Definitely a bit out of my realm of experience (well, flip flops weren't technically allowed in high school, I think, but I didn't even own a pair of flip flops until I got to college), but it's kinda cool too. Although the no jean thing would be an adjustment, somewhat. Anyway. Ok sorry, I'm just a little excited about this whole prospect, even though I don't know how likely it is or anything.

Did you know the GRE costs $130? Ridunkulous. Oh well. I guess I'm going to start trying to study and whatnot for it. I should probably take it sooner than later. The sooner I figure out what the heck I'm going to be doing next year, the better. I hate that I have no score for which to aim, no "average score of accepted students" to go by like I did in high school. Guess I'll just have to aim for the highest possible one. I don't even know what that is though. Haha. Oh man. I can't believe I'm even thinking about this whole thing as seriously as I am. What would I even do with a masters, anyway? Go for the P.D? Haha. Everyone could call me Dr Susie. That'd be sweeeet. Except that's WAAAY more schooling than I want to take. Plus, if I were going to continue at JPII, I'd have to know (reading proficiency at least) scholastic Latin, New Testament Greek, and two modern languages. Which could be French and Spanish, as I do at least have background in both of those. Eh anyway. That's never gonna happen. That whole dissertation thing alone is enough to scare me away.

Ok anyway. I'm just kind of excited about this. And lucky for me, I have two parents who think it'd be pretty cool if I do this (particularly my mom, because she wants to live vicariously through me. Haha), so they'll keep pushing me on it. Often, when I get an idea in my head of something I want to and am excited about, I just don't do anything about it and then the opportunity passes me by. Like a few years ago when I was really excited about thinking about studying abroad in Italy. Obviously that didn't happen. But with this, I'm going to do my best to see it through, and if it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out. (And my sister will be happier. She's a little mad I'm considering being gone two more years. But mad in like a "aw you're not supposed to be gone" kind of way.) Anyway. Ok I'm done with this topic for tonight.

Hi-larious

Two websites that always, without fail, tickle my funny bone, and which I all too frequently forget exist. Stuff on my Cat and Stuff on my Mutt. So simple, so wonderful.

Yes!!!

I'm watching the Simpsons right now. They play it on UPN at 10pm on weeknights. Anyway. It's an episode where there's a blackout because people use too much energy. So then people start looting. And at one point they loot a music store. A bunch of people go in, and then they walk out like a marching band playing, you guessed it, the Notre Dame Victory March! I had seen this one a few years ago, so I knew it was coming. Man. Awesome. Just proves that Notre Dame pretty much rocks. And has the best fight song. And that's all there is to it.

Dun dun DUN!!!

It was...THE CHIPMUNK!

I hate it when that happens

So, yesterday at some point (I think it was yesterday, at least), some quote or something popped into my head. It must have been relevant to something, and I wanted to look it up to see where it came from. I forget why, or what it referenced, or any of that. I think I thought of it while I was brushing my teeth, so I couldn't just go hop on my computer and look it up right away. I was going to write it down somewhere so I'd remember next time I was at a computer. Alas, my memory got the better of me and as usual when I think of something I want to check, I almost immediately got distracted in my head, and must have promptly forgot whatever it was. And I just remembered a little while ago that there was a quote I wanted to look up, but now I can't for the life of me think of it. And I'm sure it's not important really, at all, but I want to remember. I hate it when I forget things and then remember that there was something I forgot but can't remember exactly what it was. Sigh. I swear, by the time I'm 30, I will have no memory of anything, ever. I'll be like Dory in Finding Nemo. But then maybe I'll run into a fish who's looking for the boat that took his son and then go on an adventure with him and then I'll start remembering things again.

It was a dark and stormy night...

So, a little while ago, or a couple hours, whatever, there was a nice storm going on here. The clouds had been moving in for awhile, and finally there was some lightning starting up north a little after dusk. It was really cool to watch, because it was one of those almost constant lightning but mostly up in the clouds thing. I love those. Eventually it moved over us, and we got a nice few minutes of some heavy rain and even a little bit of hail. Quite lovely. And some good lightning too. Man I love storms. Especially storms at night. They're kinda rare it seems, especially here where we mostly get our storms in the afternoon. But they rock. I used to be absolutely and completely terrified of them. Including and especially those ones up in the clouds that really usually barely even create thunder. What a loser. Haha. But yeah, I love them now. Lightning at night is so awesome to watch. It really really is. Ahhh.

Too lazy to make two posts

I just read something that said a study found that only 26% of (American, I think) Catholics go to confession at least yearly. I can't believe only a quarter of the American Catholic population goes to confession at least once a year. That's kind of ridiculous. I go around every three months, have for the past maybe 5 years, maybe it's been that more just since I've gone to college. Either way, I know I could definitely go a lot more frequently than that. I can't imagine going less than once a year.

Completely unrelated, but sometimes watching movies with subtitles on is rather funny. For example, watching the third, sorry sixth, Star Wars, whenever R2D2 talks, the subtitles say "[Whistle Beep Beep]". And when Jabba was strangled to death, it said "[Death rattle]". Just kinda funny. Oh, there's also [Bleep Bloop] for R2. And something weird for when Chewbacca talks. Makes me laugh.

Itching

No, the bugs haven't gotten to me quite that much. (That is yet another lovely thing about living in Colorado -- while I might complain about bugs sometimes, it's really nothing compared to most other places. And that makes me quite happy, because man, those mosquitoes love me for some reason. It's because I'm so sweet, of course. Ha.) I just feel like writing. Problem is, I have absolutely nothing interesting (or even non-interesting) to write about. So I guess I'll just have to do another stream of consciousness-type post. Let's see.

Ok first of all, I realized this the other day. When I think about the time period when NSYNC and Backstreet Boys and those types were really popular, for some reason in my head that takes place around 1993. Or so. And then I realize that it was more like 98, 99ish. And it's so bizarre to me that we're closer to 2010 than 2000 now, because I still base a lot of dates and such off of them being close to or far from 2000. Ok that didn't make sense. What I mean is, when I hear a date, I think of it in terms of how it relates to the year 2000 on a time line, because for some reason that's still my central time point or something. So it's weird to me when I realize that 2000 was almost ten years ago. Crazy weird. Hm. Anyway.

Last night I remembered this ring I used to wear. Until last October or so. I had gotten it in Estes Park some years back, and I quite enjoyed it. It was a little sterling silver heart on the top, with two smaller gold (looking) ones on either side of the bigger one. Not that the big one was very big at all. Anyway. I had been wearing it on my right ring finger for awhile, and one Saturday last October (a football Saturday, getting ready to watch the game) I had taken off it and the other ring I always wear, on my left ring finger, my chastity ring, I think probably because I had just washed my hands or something. (I can't stand to have my rings on my hands if either/both are wet. Just bothers me to no end for some reason. So I take them off for a few minutes, sometimes longer, so the rings can dry off.) Anyway. We have one of those three seat couches where the two end sides are recliners and the middle seat back can be folded down and it has two cup holders and a wooden area to put stuff. This is the way we normally have the couch, with the back folded down. And I had put my rings there that afternoon when I removed them. Some time later, I realized they were off and wanted to put them back on, but only the one I wear on my left hand was there. (Which is good, because it's actually real and cost some money, as opposed to the $15 or so I spent on the heart one.) But I was quite sad about the other one being missing. I looked on and under the couch as best I could manage, short of actually pulling out the couch to look under it more fully. But alas, the ring was not to be found. I eventually got over it, and just didn't wear a ring on that finger usually anymore. Now, of course, I wear my lovely beautiful wonderful ND class ring on that finger. I do still miss that heart one, though. If I ever found it, I could easily wear it on another finger (it was a little loose on the ring finger anyway). But I don't know that I'll ever find it, because I seriously have no idea where it could have gone. I have a feeling it's in this couch somewhere, but I don't have enough courage to go sticking my fingers in all the nooks and crannies of it (irrational fear that I'll inadvertently hit like, I don't know, a spider egg sac or something like that). Sigh. Eh, oh well.

So, I think I might be a "Highly Sensitive Person." I've heard the phrase before, but I figured it was like...highly emotional people. Apparently, though, it's people who are, among other things, very aware of changes in their surroundings which affect the senses in some way, who get very uncomfortable and tend to do worse when people are watching them for whatever reason, who don't like crowds, who don't like lots of noise, etc. Oh, and apparently, who feel a sense of comfort around lakes, rivers, streams, oceans, or fountains. I guess a lot of them are kind of general, but I think I could definitely have some tendencies in that direction. So anyway. Kind of interesting, to me anyway.

One of the things that makes me a tad nervous about applying for that grad school is the fact that I need three recommendations. Two from professors, one from someone else. I know who my "someone else" will be, I think, but I've never had much luck getting very close to professors I've had in college. It was easy to find teachers that could write good recommendations and who knew me well in high school (I was a teacher's pet suck-up in high school. Especially math teachers. Man I loved math. I sometimes wonder if I should have continued with it in college, but most of college math is more theoretical stuff. I always much preferred the things that I could solve, get a definitive answer to, equations to simplify, stuff like that. I hated doing theorems and whatever else those things were called. But every grade, I was awesome in math. 5th grade, middle school -- I even got a calculator as an award in 8th grade for the best female math student in the grade. I was awesome -- high school. Not so much 9th grade, I think, because I think 9th grade was geometry and I wasn't so much a geometry girl. More algebra and calculus. Anyway. Sorry to reminisce. Where was I? Oh yeah. It was easy finding teachers who knew me well and in whose classes I had performed excellently). Not so much college. First, there's so many people that it's hard for professors to get to know you inside of class. Especially someone like me, because I don't usually find that I have much to contribute. Second, whereas I could go to office hours and things like that, make an attempt to get to know my profs, I never have anything to ask them or to say to them. So I don't, and then I don't get to know my teachers. And I've definitely not been the student in college that I was in high school. It's just a different ballgame. Different experience. Different situation. So I'm going to have to try and work on that this semester, so I can get good recommendations for grad school.

Speaking of grad school, last night I was looking at other potentials in case maybe I decide to expand my horizons and look at other places. But the thing is, I don't want to go to grad school to go to grad school. Heck, I don't even really want to go to grad school. I want to do the program that's offered at the JPII Institute. Marriage and family and life issues. That's why I want to go. And as far as I can tell, I don't see a whole lot of other grad school programs that offer the same kind of thing. Aside from the one in Austria which I don't think I'd ever EVER even attempt. Firstly, I'm sure it's ridiculously competitive, and I just don't have the credentials. Secondly, it's in Austria. Which actually might be kinda cool, but I think just too much for me. So anyway. Guess it's this thing or nothing. I requested to have them send me stuff via snail mail because I just much prefer to have a hard copy in my hands. They said everything's online, but I don't know. I like it all gathered together. So I'm looking forward to getting that, although I don't really know why since I'm sure it'll tell me nothing new. (Aside from maybe the date the application is due, because I can't find that on the website.) Anyway.

So over the past few days, I watched the first three Harry Potter movies. I finally and fully realized just how inadequate they are compared to the books. Man. The books are just so so much better. Especially in the case of the third movie. They leave out and change a ridiculous amount. The first two (and fourth) do as well, but for some reason, at least with the first two, it didn't bother me as much. I haven't watched the fourth recently, so I'm not sure if I'd say it's better or worse an adaptation compared to the third. Either way, man are the books so much better. And now I'm kinda worried I'm going to end up very much disliking the fifth when I see it in a few weeks, because I'm sure it'll be tons different than the book, and I'm rather looking forward to it. I'm almost thinking that maybe I shouldn't reread the fifth beforehand, because then at least it won't be as fresh and I won't necessarily realize as many differences the first time around. But I probably will still read it. I mean, I do have to reread the fifth and sixth before the seventh book comes out, and there's only about a week between the movie's release and the book's, so timewise I should have the fifth read before the movie. And besides, I already started it yesterday. Oh well. I already know that I don't like the actress they got for Umbridge, and I'm not a big fan of how Tonks looks in the movie either. And man, I really wish that when Richard Harris had died (he played Dumbledore in the first two movies, and died shortly before the second came out), they had gotten someone better to replace him. Apparently his family really wanted the movie people to pick Peter O'Toole as his replacement. I could definitely see that. And Richard Attenborough apparently tried to get that part. He'd be pretty good in it too, I think. Although he is a bit short for Dumbledore. (He's the guy who was in Jurassic Park, the creator, and he also played Santa Claus in the newer version of Miracle on 34th Street.) I just am not a huge fan of Michael Gambon as Dumbledore. Oh well. At least when I read the books, even though I've seen the movies, I still kind of have my own versions of most of the characters that are at least slightly different than those in the movies. Some may be influenced by the movies, at least with the first four books, but yeah. Anyway. Oh, plus the books have a lot more stuff with the Weasley family, and especially the twins, and I kinda love them. The family and the twins. But yeah. Sorry for such a long Harry Potter-related paragraph. But hey, Harry Potter's kinda awesome, so deal with it.

If anyone reads this fairly soon, apparently Staples is hiring right now, so tomorrow I'm going to go down there and apply. I obviously have not had much luck with this so far, and thus am not expecting much, but at the same time the number of places that have been explicitly hiring (as opposed to being "always accepting applications") has been quite low this summer. It would be lovely if I could get a job, finally, even if it is just at Staples. Hey, I like office supplies. Well, like, paper and pens and stuff. Haha. Anyway. So that'd be cool, and prayers would be appreciated that maybe finally this one makes it. (Twould be really awesome if I went down there, filled out an application, and they hired me right away. But I'm a realist, and know that this won't happen. Unfortunately for me.) It sure would be nice to have an income again. I haven't bought anything, like, anything, most of the summer. Well, with the exception of things like books for my classes, toiletries, and the like. And obviously it helps that I live with my parents and they pay for things too, like...food, and living expenses...haha. But I want to do things like go see a few movies over the remainder of the summer, and I don't even feel like I should do that if I don't have cash flow. I really shouldn't do that, actually. Nor should I buy any DVDs, or CDs, or anything like that. And man, sigh, I want to. There are some movies I'd really like to own that are on sale for $7.50 this week at Best Buy. And I am quite a fan of buying movies for less than $10. But, again, I won't let myself, because I really can't. It sucks. And I'm not going to have any money to buy books for next semester, or to save and eventually pay off loans and such, and blah blah blah. I hate money. I hate not having it. Money can't buy happiness. Maybe that's true, but it sure can take the stress off of some things. It'd just be really nice for me at least to feel like I can help contribute more than I do, or to feel like I can be slightly more independent than I am. I hate the fact that I have no money. (Although, I guess I don't hate it enough that I'm willing to go to McDonalds to get a job. Not that there's any guarantee even they would take me.) And I just have a feeling that this is going to be how it'll be for awhile. Especially if I do grad school. Unless I do grad school and stay up there year-round. Then, theoretically, I wouldn't have this problem. But then there's the question of what am I going to do when I'm finally done with everything? I have no idea what I want to do. Well, that's not true, but I have no idea what I want to do until I get married and have kids. It'd be one thing if I were an engineering major, or a business major, or something. But I'm not. Sigh. Ok anyway. Sorry.

In other news, I want this book. That is all.

My parish does that thing before Mass starts where they ask everyone new or visiting to stand up, while an usher runs around with a microphone so that we can hear each and every one of their life stories. I'm not a big fan of it in general, but whatever. Today? It took a good ten minutes for the whole thing to be over. Meaning Mass started ten minutes late. It just...wasn't a good start for me. Oh well. Sorry.

Lately there's been this cat hanging around our house at night. She seems to fight with Colt the few times Colt is out there at night (or at least they make noise at each other, I don't know if there's actual fighting going on. I hope not, since Colt has no claws, and that's not good in a fight). And she sits out there and mews loudly some nights. Like last night. And a little bit tonight. I think it's the same one, anyway. I keep trying to shoo it away, but it keeps coming back. So I tried taking Kebbie out there tonight, but the two times I got her out there, it had gone far enough away that I couldn't see it. It's sitting in the yard right now though. I wonder if it's homeless or something. Seems kinda pathetic. And why's it just hanging out like that? Very weird. I feel kinda bad for it, but I also kinda want Kebbie to have the satisfaction of chasing a cat, as she does like to do that. Eh oh well. Ok so now the cat's just laying on the porch. I just went out to see if it'd run away, and it didn't. Even seemed like it was about to come towards me. And then I checked a minute later and when I opened the door it was standing kind of in front of it, and it seems like she wants to come in. That'd be bad, obviously, because Kebbie would be chasing her like there's no tomorrow and who knows what would happen there. (And obviously there's other reasons why it'd be bad.) I feel kinda bad for it though. It's just sitting out there, occasionally meowing kind of sadly. I'm tempted to pet it but I'm not a fan of touching strange animals that show up on the porch. Could have like rabies or...fleas or...something. Hm. Awhile later, still out there. So weird. Maybe it's a he and he's in love with Colt. Haha.

Well, I guess that's all. Wow I wrote a lot. Hope you had fun with that. Haha.

What is wrong with this world?

You may or may not have heard about the pregnant woman in Ohio who went missing last week. She was last heard from last Wednesday, when her mom talked to her, and then when her mom couldn't get ahold of her Thursday, she went to the house on Friday to find her two year old grandson alone, with a dirty diaper, and the house was messy and looked like something had happened there. They found her body today, apparently, and arrested her boyfriend (who had previously, of course, said he wasn't involved, but I guess it was fishy). I read somewhere that his lawyer ended up telling the FBI where the body was or something, perhaps in an attempt to get the guy a lessened charge maybe, but I haven't seen that in the articles I've read so I don't know if that's true. Either way, it looks like he did it. It's such a sad story. Whatever he (allegedly, gotta be PC here) did, he did it in front of his and her two-year-old son, who has been heard to say that "Mommy's in the rug." She was 9 months pregnant with their second child, due July 3. He is married but separated, and has at least one kid with his wife. Oh, and he's a cop. Who's had domestic abuse charges against him before, among other things I guess. It's just all so messed up. How could someone do that? It's unfathomable to me. And incredibly sad. When I first heard about this, I hoped that they'd find her (obviously), but I very much doubted they would. At least, that they'd find her alive. It's rare that these things have happy endings. But the fact that it was her boyfriend, the father of her two kids, it's just despicable. Especially considering the fact that many are speculating that he killed her for some reason like child support. Horrible. Of course, it is just speculation, but whatever the "reason," it's not a good one.

And then I saw this other headline today, something about "Father charged with murder of wife, 3 children." I guess last week sometime this guy flagged down a car on the highway with a gunshot wound in his thigh, saying that he needed help with his family. They (his wife and three kids, all under the age of like 12) were in their car, all shot, all dead. I guess he wasn't being named as a suspect initially, but today (or sometime recently), he was arrested and charged with all their murders. They're not saying why they arrested him, or any motive or anything, but geez. It's almost gotten to the point where it's just another news story for another day when a husband or wife kills his or her spouse and/or children. I don't know, maybe it's always been like that, but it sure seems more prevalent lately. And it's horrible. What kind of a world is this, where you're not even safe with your own family anymore? It's not like there's a shortage of strangers killing people for whatever reason. Why do people have to do it to their own families?

Most excellent

I was having a discussion with my younger brother early last week. I believe it had something to do with the Sopranos finale, a show which I had never seen even five minutes of, but of which I did see the very last few minutes (because it was posted all over online and such, since it was such a big deal and all). I had no real opinion on it, although for some reason I like the belief that Tony Soprano was killed at the end. But that's not the point. The point is, they played "Don't Stop Believin" by Journey during that last portion. I happen to love that song. My brother, as I found out last week, thinks it sucks. This makes me quite sad, as it's objectively an awesome song, and therefore my younger brother has some serious problems.

Either way, this would be an excellent album to own at some point, I think.

Long Lost Love

My dog and I renewed a mutual love tonight. Not of each other, but of a food. Summer sausage, to be precise. Mom and I bought some last night at the store, because I had been craving it. And man. I love this stuff. And Kebbie looooves it too. She gets very clingy and "look at my cute cute eyes" whenever she sees me eating it or cutting it. (And I of course am completely powerless to resist those eyes. With the little bits of white showing at the corners, to make her look just a little bit more cute and pathetic. She has the whole schtick down, let me tell you. Although, to be honest, she doesn't even have to try to look cuter when it comes to me. I'm powerless to resist her no matter what. My sweet little baby puppy.) What can I say, she gets her good taste from me. (Excluding the fact that she eats cat poop, of course. But you know, who doesn't like a nice litter-covered...eh sorry can't even finish that sentence. Gross.) And, it's true, I don't stoop quite to the level she does, and eat the paper that's around the sausage. A bit much for me. Not for her though. Haha. She's so funny.

Anyway. Mmm summer sausage.

In other words, I'm never gonna get it

If I ever get a job, this CD will be one of the first things I buy, I think. (Not that I plan on going on a shopping spree or something if ever I have income again, but yeah.) Some of my absolute favorites, and it's all cello! I love cello music. In case you didn't know.

Double whammy

So a few minutes ago I went down to the basement to get the last of a few Vitamin Waters Dad had bought for me a week or two ago (Flavor XXX, with some weird fruit, blueberries, and pomegranite. Quite delish, and my favorite). I wanted to put it in the fridge so it'd be cold tomorrow when I went out and about, such as to go watch my nephew while my sister has a couple of appointments. (New baby should be here a week from today, if all goes well -- they're doing an amniocentesis on Wednesday to make sure his lungs and such are developed enough, since he'll be four weeks early, and then the C-section is scheduled for Thursday afternoon.) Anyway. I went downstairs to get it, and what do I find but a nice little pile of puke on the ground. Now, the cat pukes sometimes, but usually it's more hairball-like. This was full out throw up. And a lot more than I would expect could come out of her. (I'm pretty sure it was the cat because Kebbie rarely goes downstairs without one of us already being down there, since there's nothing really to interest her down there, and earlier tonight I heard a noise that I thought was Colt throwing up, but I didn't see her in the living room or dining room, where she normally chooses to throw up.) So. It was disgusting, but there was no point in leaving it (pretending I hadn't seen it and hope that one of my parents saw it first...hehe), so I went back upstairs, put the drink in the fridge, and got some newspaper, paper towels, spray, etc. Went to start the clean up.

A few minutes later, Kebbie joins me down there (Colt had followed me initially, and was watching me clean up her handiwork, just sitting back all cool and stuff. Although truth be told I think she might not be feeling too well, really. But I don't really know). After a few more minutes, Kebbie decides to go back upstairs. Only, she's quite clumsy in the turning around and managing to get up the stairs thing. And it's obvious that she's all of a sudden quite dizzy. Out of nowhere. She had been fine just minutes before. And I just thought to myself, "Oh no, not again." See, a few weeks ago, I heard some noises upstairs that sounded like somebody moving around in one of the rooms. Sounded like it was coming from my brother's room, but I had thought that Kebbie was in my parents' room, so I didn't know what it was. Thought it was maybe the cat or something. A little while later, Dad comes down carrying Kebbie. She had gotten up all of a sudden, in their room, and was walking around like she was dizzy. So he wanted to take her outside, hoping fresh air might help. It didn't really, and he stayed down here for awhile watching her (and fell asleep on the couch). Eventually he headed up, and I followed a few minutes later, as it seemed maybe Kebbie had calmed down and actually fallen asleep. She ended up following me upstairs, and seemed somewhat less shaky thank before, but still off. Anyway. I guess by the next morning she was ok again, and it hasn't happened since. It was really scary though.

So when I noticed that happening again, I finished the wipedown of the floor I was currently doing, and went up to make sure she was ok. And she wasn't really. So I just...I don't really remember, but I got her to lie down eventually, and I went downstairs to finish cleaning and bring the stuff back up here and whatnot, put/throw it away, and then turn back to Kebbie. She didn't want to stay down, but she's too unsteady on her feet when she's like this (she's already full-out fallen, on her side, on her stomach, etc tonight, way more than she should), so I have to keep her down. She's been doing well for awhile now, staying on the floor. But this whole thing sucks a lot. I know she's getting old, and she's probably not going to be around very much longer. And I can't describe the ache which that realization causes. She's been with us for 13 years now. The better part of my life. More than half my life. The half that I remember the best. Sometimes it's like we're already on borrowed time with her as it is. Last summer I half expected that we would have to put her down when, during the process of her annual shaving, the groomers found a nasty looking tumor thing on her side. (It wouldn't be summer without some sort of pet emergency -- four years ago when Pebo died, Colt almost died too, and it's only because Pebo had died that my parents were so willing for my sake to run tests and such on Colt to figure out what was wrong with her. Turned out she had somehow managed to swallow and get stuck in her windpipe a very small pineconey thing which was causing her to be unable to breathe much.) We took her to the vet a few days later, and they did a test and I think it turned out to be malignant, and we had them cut it off and sew it up. The day they did it was horrible. I was worried all day, expecting something to go wrong. But she got through it all right, and she's still here obviously. But (much as I like to deny it), she's getting old: her hearing isn't what it used to be, neither is her eyesight. And now this. I don't really have any idea what this could be, but it's not good, even if it's not something that might really affect her quality of life aside from the few episodes. She's not going to live forever, though. And stuff like this makes me realize that.

The only thing I can hope and pray for (and I do, often) is that I'll be here when it's finally time for her to go. We've had several pets die in my lifetime; a cat that we only had a few years after moving here, and therefore who I don't remember all that well, a dog we had less than a year before she got hit by a car, and Pebo and Blackie, obviously. I've never physically been there when any of them have actually died, nor have I seen them afterward. So it's kind of a non-closed thing for me, almost. Like...they just went somewhere or something. I don't know. I just...I need to be there when it happens with Kebbie. I just need that. I don't know why, but I do. The way it happened with Pebo...which I've been thinking about lately, perhaps because it was around now when it happened four years ago (it was June 14), and I really really miss her sometimes. Anyway, it was horrible. We went on vacation, she wasn't doing well (we figured it was her missing my dad), and then all of a sudden, I woke up one morning and my parents told me she had to be put down the night before. And it was like one of those worst-case scenario things I sometimes imagine but rarely ever happen. It was horrible. I just need to be there with Kebbie. Anyway. Sorry. Few things cause me such intense emotions as does Kebbie. She's my love, my baby, and I don't want to imagine what it'll be like when she's gone. So I guess I'd better stop.

I am a selfish, pathetic mess of a human being. And I don't want to be, but I also don't want to do what is necessary to change to a better person, the person I'm sure God would rather me be. Because in my experience, people who are like that tend to get forgotten, ignored, stepped all over. And I've had quite enough of that in my life. I'm sick of that.

And yet, is being recognized in some form or another really worth it if I feel like crap about it?

Who turned off the lights?

I was taking a shower this afternoon. I had gone hiking in the morning, until around 11:30, then gotten lunch and went to my weekly chiropractic appointment. Got home around...1:45 maybe. I got into the shower around 2, and started my shower routine, which starts with shampooing my hair. Well, an unexpected and unpleasant thing happened as I was getting ready to rinse out the shampoo. The power went out. I had my eyes closed at that point, so I couldn't tell except that the fan in the ceiling went out, as well as the radio turning off. Opened my eyes, and no difference. I'm not a fan of being in the shower and having it go pitch black. I'm not afraid of the dark, but it's creepy enough being in the shower sometimes (you know, your eyes are closed, your imagination starts to go, scenes from Psycho and The 6th Sense go through your head (there's no shower scenes in the latter, but sometimes I can still creep myself out by thinking maybe I'll turn around or open my eyes and there'll be a dead person standing there), and it's just creepy) without the power going out. And in the middle of the day, when it's not even storming. So anyway, I turn off the water, get out of the shower, throw a towel on, and go downstairs to where the power breaker thingy whatever it's called is. All the power in the house was off. I was about to start investigating (no idea what I thought I was going to do), when it comes back on. So I'm like, ok. I go back upstairs, get back into the shower, rinse out the shampoo, start putting conditioner in, and...it goes off again! So I just said screw this because I was really annoyed since I was quite dusty, sweaty, and just gross in general, and I went to finish my shower in my parents' bathroom, since they have a window and a light isn't exactly necessary in the middle of the day. It was weird because I hadn't taken a shower in there in years. I don't think the power went off again (of course), but oh well. It probably would have had I gone back into my bathroom. Psh.

So that was my excitement for today. I've always dreaded the thought of the power going out while I was in the shower (that, and having a fire alarm go off...here's hoping I don't have to experience that one), so at least I know I can survive that. Haha.

Rejection

We all hate rejection. It's just not a happy thing. Ever. No one (usually) says "Man, I really hope I get rejected for that thing I applied for," or "I hope those people over there reject me." I mean, there are exceptions to every rule, obviously, but for the most part, people prefer not to be rejected. I expect to be rejected. As a result, I very much dislike applying for things, trying out for things, even getting to know new people sometimes. It just rarely feels worth it to me because I assume I'll end up rejected as always. Oh, I'll still do it (usually), but I don't expect anything to come from it. And rarely anything does. (Case in point: this summer. Number of job applications turned in? Well, I don't really know. But well into the double digits. Number of even tiny nibbles? One. I guess kind of two, but not really. Number of jobs actually offered to me? Zero.) So I hate applying for things that I actually really want to get. Because, to me, hoping for something like that is almost a death sentence. I don't like to be very optimistic about things over which I have very little control, such as things that I apply for. It just doesn't work out well for me.

So, try as I might, I'm trying not to get excited about the possibility of going to grad school at the JPII Institute. Or going to that Gospel of Life seminar over fall break. I want to do them (I think), but I don't want to start thinking like I'll be able to do them. Because I just know that the minute I start counting on it, I won't get it. And then what? It's so much easier to apply detached from something, than to apply with your heart on your sleeve, so to speak. For some reason the line "My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes" springs to mind. Anyway. Against all my better judgment, better reasoning, better...everything, the more I think about it (and even when I don't), the more I want it to happen. And I really really hate that. But with situations such as these, in which I have no control beyond applying, I guess the only thing I can do is remember that it's in God's hands, and if it's meant to be, it'll happen. Whether or not I'm perfect on paper. (Because, much as I might try to be, I'm most definitely not even close. Obviously.)

Enough already

I was just sitting here, minding my own business, looking through the help wanted ads from yesterday, and I was scratching my head or something, when I noticed a sort of tickling sensation on the back of my hand. I figured it was some little gnat or something that we get in the house all the time during the summer. Irritating, but innocent enough. So I bring my hand down to my face to check it out, and what do I see crawling across my hand but -- yep, you guessed it -- a spider. A gross, kind of big-ish, black spider. On my hand. ON MY HAND. I emitted sort of a whispered scream, the closest I've ever come actually to screaming when faced with a spider. I shook my hand to get it off, and it landed on a knitting project sitting on the little table thing next to me, and it just sat there. Luckily I had a tissue on that table as well, so I didn't have to get up and worry about the spider crawling away while getting something with which to kill it. Seriously. Where do they come from? Why are they always on me? I haven't really had that problem much before, but this summer so far I've had spiders crawling on my person three times already. It is not fun for an arachnophobe. I am so sick of spiders. I hate them with a fiery burning passion. "blah blah they eat other bugs blah blah." Other bugs don't bother me so much. Spiders? Creep me out like nothing else. I just want them to go away. If they stay out of my line of sight, and off of me, that's fine. I'm ok with them then. But as soon as they venture somewhere that makes them visible to me, or as soon as they dare to venture on to me, it's all over baby. Ugh. I think that maybe they might be coming down from the light fixture that's right above this spot on the couch where I like to sit. I don't know how else to explain having two spiders crawling on me while sitting in this seat. And finding a few other spiders around here as well. I'm so freaking grossed out right now. Spiders suck, and that's the moral of the story. (If there's a bright side to this story, it's that at least these spiders have yet to reach this size. I cannot imagine my reaction if I saw that on the wall, let alone crawling on my hand. I mean...ugh. I wouldn't be able to be comfortable anywhere for quite awhile, I think, and I also don't think I'd be able to get enough courage to get close enough so that I could kill it. And as the majority of my spider-sightings occur at night when my parents have gone to bed, or some other time when I'm by myself (as I pointed out to my mom earlier tonight, as we were looking at that post, because I said that if I did see a spider that big, I'd be tempted to go up and wake up my dad. But I'd probably feel bad about it and end up finding something big and heavy with which to kill the disgusting thing), I wouldn't have anyone to fall back on to kill it for me. But dang. I'm so glad I haven't seen one that big. Yet. Shudder shudder shudder.

Bad from the start

You just know that when a day starts out with an uncomfortable-feeling stomach that wakes you up in the early early morn, and continues to keep you from falling back into a good sleep, until you finally give up and head for the bathroom hoping to get rid of whatever's in there and eventually end up expelling it all orally (and then go back to bed in the hopes of getting at least a few good hours of sleep, even though your throat now is stinging and there's that uncomfortable taste and feeling left in your mouth/throat/nose area), it's just not going to be a good day.

And it wasn't. This job thing sucks. Why am I so un-hireable?

(For the record, the day hasn't been too bad since around noon or so. But still. I'm broke. And in debt. With no prospects of either changing any time soon.)

What are people thinking?

I came across these today. I guess I shouldn't draw attention to them because maybe if no one does, then no one will buy them. I can't imagine anyone buying them anyway. They're bizarre and ugly and seem like they'd be a lot of work to keep on. Man. I hope these don't become the new Crocs, with everyone wearing them. I see enough of people's feet when they wear flip flops. I don't want to see the whole foot. Feet are gross, and that's why shoes are nice, because it hides at least part of them. These? Not so much. So, just say no to these pieces of foam. (Maybe the aren't even real -- when I went to the "buy" button, it said something about still under development. Maybe that's because they suck. But I'd bet dollars to donuts that they'll be like $30. At least. For two pieces of foam.)

What can you expect, though? They're from England. Crazy people over there. Haha. (Although, not everything from England is bad. Just look at this guy. And this one. Seriously, chills. It's amazing, that guy. And then there's this girl too. Anyway. I was going to make a separate post with the first performance when I saw it a few days ago, but then I came across the second and third today, and then I just threw it in here. Oh well. They're well worth watching if you have a few minutes.)

There is absolutely no point to this post whatsoever.

Um....dangit I forgot my primary reason for making a post. Maybe I'll just type for awhile. I do enjoy the typing. OH! I've been wanting to talk about something for a few days now. Really nothing interesting, but something which makes me extremely happy. I've discussed my growing appreciation for Christopher Guest before, I think (and if not, well I think he's awesome), but yeah, he's just awesome. I rented Waiting for Guffman last week, and we watched it and it's fairly hilarious. Including and especially Christopher Guest. Oh man yeah. So anyway. He's just so amazing. Virtually unrecognizable in many of his roles. It's amazing. So then like the next day I watched The Princess Bride, one of the best movies ever. Seriously. Ridiculously awesome movie, and pretty much anyone can watch it and appreciate it for at least some aspect. Kids can watch and love it, adults can watch and love it, so it's one of those movies you can watch forever and not feel weird doing so. (Like, it's probably slightly odd to watch...I don't know, Power Rangers or some specifically kid-aimed movie, once you hit past the age of like ten. Ok, I guess it's always weird to watch Power Rangers, but you know what I mean. I couldn't think of anything else, because I'll admit that I still watch a number of childhood favorites and am probably slightly odd for doing so -- Disney movies, Homeward Bound, other cartoon movies, etc. I enjoy the non-offensiveness of kid movies. Except when they're stupid. AKA kid movies made after I grew out of being a kid. Mostly. Pixar movies not included.) But anyway, the Princess Bride rocks. (And Christopher Guest is in it, and I hadn't watched it in awhile and especially not since beginning to appreciate -- or even know -- him.) I cannot gush enough about this movie. I mean, man. It blows me away with its amazingness. Don't you like the variety of adjectives I'm using in this paragraph? Awesome and amazing. Words of the day I guess. How blase they are. Oh well. Anyway. The Princess Bride makes me unbelievably happy. And that's all there is to it.

Speaking of movies, as some of you may know, I happen to be in love with the movie adaptation of Anne of Green Gables (and the Sequel). I know they're not terribly accurate to the books, especially the sequel, but I've never actually read any of the books I don't think -- just a much-slimmed down version of the first. Anyway, I don't care. I love them, and I probably watch them at least twice a year. Usually over a week or two or so. (Just a few minutes here and there, before bed, while changing, etc.) The only copy I have is two VHSes of them taped off of PBS back when they were fairly new, I suppose, which means late 80s-early 90s sometime. They're starting to wear out, sadly. Now, they've never been the best -- there's those lovely breaks when the people come on doing their pledge drive as PBS likes to do, and there's sections that for some reason didn't get recorded, and there's the fun of finishing whatever was taped on the first tape and moving to the second where the story starts up again. But I've dealt with it, and those pledge drive people are almost as much part of the nostalgia as the movie itself. Maybe not quite, but whatever. I have been wanting to get the DVDs for awhile, though. I've rented them from the library a few times, and it's weird to see the scenes I never really knew were missing. And not to have the nice tracking lines and messed up music as the show kind of got a little fuzzy with regard to reception or whatever, but then mostly fixed itself. The thing is, though, that the DVDs are kind of expensive. Like $20 a piece. I think it's because it's a Canadian movie and such, so they're considered "imports" or whatever. I barely like to spend more than $10 on a DVD, hence I have yet to buy myself these ones. But someday I'll get them. If only because I don't know how much longer those tapes are going to last. I've quite worn them out. Sad. Nothing lasts, though, I guess.

I was just looking through May's posts, looking for something specific, and I happened to notice that my 600th entry in this blog was on May 2nd. It's June 15th today, and this is my 672nd post. I write a lot. I'm ok with that. It's such a lovely outlet to have, it really is.

Know what? I've been what I can probably classify as "drunk" around twice in my life. (Both times in college, thank you very much.) And you know how many of those two times were since I turned 21 (back in September)? Zero. I guess I've been tipsy once since becoming legal (maybe twice), but never drunk. I'm not a big fan of drinking, really. Oh, sure, I like my girly mixed drinks once in awhile, but I much prefer not to taste alcohol. And I really prefer not to feel drunk. It's just not for me. (Sorry, I was just thinking about this because one of my friends finally turned 21 today, and I think her intention was probably to do the typical "I'm finally 21 thing, let's get me smashed." Not that there's anything wrong with that, necessarily. I never quite did that, for better or worse, mostly because when I turned 21 none of my friends were around, nor was I around them thanks to my deciding to stay home for a semester, idiot that I am. I did have a margarita on my birthday, so at least I had something. Haha. Anyway. That's all.)

Guess what? I haven't gotten gas in my car in over three weeks now. Helps that I have very few places to go. And lucky for me, as my tank's getting close to the point where I'll have to fill up again, prices are going down. Saw $3.05 today at the cheap station, but I've seen $3.08 and $3.09 around too, so hopefully the cheap station will get even cheaper in the next few days. So basically, go me. (And now prices will shoot back to $3.20 just in time for me to have to fill up. Twould be my luck.)

I want to go to Breckenridge. It's so pretty up there. I'm a big big fan.

I also want to go camping. And I think it'd be really fun to ride horses through the trails and such. I've only been on a horse once in my life, I think, and it was just around a little fenced-in area, and it was years and years ago. But I want to go horseback riding sometime. I decided I should marry a rancher. Who cooks. Yes. And has lots of money.

Much as I hate homework and schoolwork and that type of stuff, I can't help myself from getting more and more into the idea of going to the JPII Institute for grad school. Which is just bad. I don't like getting excited about things. I always end up being disappointed. Ok maybe not always, but whatever. But...it could be really cool. Eh I don't know.

Ok. I've rambled enough tonight to scratch my typing itch. So here I shall leave you all. Older brother's coming down tomorrow night, and most of us I think might be going to see Ocean's Thirteen tomorrow night. Which I'm kind of excited about, because I've heard it's pretty good. And then Tom's staying until Monday sometime. And i have an interview Monday. Which isn't a good thing, because I hate interviews and I think I'm horrible in interviews (partially because I hate those stupid scenario questions and always have to bite back some sarcastic answer, and instead put forth a tired answer that's pretty much what everyone probably says. Because I never know. I hate hypotheticals. Hate them. So yeah. Sigh), but it could be good if I get the job. Potentially. Anyway. Yeah. So. There you go.

It's about time

Tonight was good. The Red Sox beat...um...San Francisco. 10-2. So that's good. AND the Yankees lost. Which is also quite good. To the Mets, too. I'm not a Mets fan at all (except when they play the Yankees, of course), but I think that the Mets and the Yankees are pretty big rivals. And it's nice when the Yankees lose, and especially when it's to a rival. I'm mean, sorry. The thing is, I'm generally just mean with people in general. But when it comes to individual people, I can't really be mean to them or wish them ill. Like people on game shows. I hate watching people lose on like game shows and stuff, even when they're stupid. The people or the shows. And I hate individualizing certain players in games, especially games in which my teams are playing and the individualized players are on the other team. Because then sometimes I almost feel bad. But usually not. Especially if my team is playing someone like USC. Or the Yankees. Or...well I don't really have any teams I hate in the NFL, oddly. I guess I hate them all equally when they're playing the Patriots. Oh well. Anyway. Yay Red Sox, yay Mets beating the Yankees.

What did I do today? What a lovely question

Today was (is) the feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. I happen to like this feast day (actually a Solemnity, which means it's more important, more or less) quite a bit. Not sure why. But anyway, I had noticed earlier this week that this feast was today. And I was like "I want to go to Mass that day." Sad how infrequently I go to daily Mass during the summer. Sigh. Anyway. So today came and went, and no Mass did I go to. Forgot what today was. I'm a little sad about this. But...oh well. Nothing I can do about it now. Just the way things go sometimes, I guess. At least I did lots of physical activity today, so I didn't feel like a complete lazy good-for-nothing. I took Kebbie for a walk, because I was getting ready to head out to go running and she gave me that look, those eyes, which I just cannot resist. So I took her, came back, went out again and went running this time (well, running/walking, as usual...sigh). And then later Peter and I went over to watch Jason for a bit while Cathy went to another of her weekly appointments, and he wanted to go outside, go to the park etc (they live basically across the street from Memorial Park, and he likes going to the like slides and stuff near the lake, and watching/feeding the ducks, when we have stuff with which to feed them). Anyway, I kinda didn't feel like messing with the car seat (getting it in my car, etc) so I was like, let's just walk. I don't think Peter was too excited about that prospect, but he's in the army, he should be used to lots of walking. Not sure why, but yeah. Anyway. Unfortunately, the lake is kind of on the end of Memorial Park that's farthest from the street across which Cathy lives. So it was a bit more of a walk than I anticipated. And Jason wanted to be carried. Well, he was walking fine (slowly, of course, but fine) but then I picked him up to cross the street as it's a busy one. And then he didn't want me to put him down until we got pretty much to the lake. And he's getting big. And he didn't want Peter to carry him. So that was a nice work out. Then repeat the process to walk back to Cathy's. Only I carried him more, it felt like. And eventually just gave him to Peter. Jason protested for a little while, but eventually gave it up. Anyway. It was hot out today. So I was a bit drained by the end of the day. That's my long story. Sorry. How boring my life is.

Something interesting did happen today, however. I had just gotten back into my room after taking a shower and brushing my teeth and stuff like that, and my cell phone rang. Didn't recognize the number, and generally I don't like to answer the phone when I don't recognize the number (I'm a major call-screener, especially because I just hate talking on the phone for some reason. Avoid it at all costs, really). But considering the fact that I've been turning in job applications like a mad woman lately (ok that might be a slight exaggeration), I figured it might be prudent to answer this one. And guess who it was? Regis Philbin. Ok I don't even know why I said that. (But did you know he graduated from ND? He did. Lived in Zahm his freshman year. The dorm closest to Cavanaugh. Also one of the weirder ones...they do the Bun Run the Sunday before finals both in the winter and spring. Which means they go streaking through Lafortune, the student center. At midnight. They're weird weird boys.) Anyway, it was some woman from Target down the road, calling to ask if I was still looking for a job. "Yes, I'm pathetic and have yet to have anyone express any interest in me despite the fact that I've been looking almost a month now, and am flat broke." Ok I didn't really say that. Just the yes. Anyway, I have an interview on Monday. I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but I am kind of hoping that it's just a formality (like the interview I had when I go the job at Dillards two summers ago. I guess maybe if I had shown up in torn jeans, pierced from here to high heaven (is that the phrase? don't think I've ever used it), and was basically just a slob, perhaps I wouldn't have gotten that job). I mean, I don't know what they pay or anything, but man I'm getting desperate. I have no money. Like, almost literally. Or perhaps completely literally. It's incredibly depressing. And I don't want to have to work retail, but I'm out of options. I figure it's slightly better than food service, which is the next step I'll have to take. Geez. It's the middle of JUNE. The MIDDLE of JUNE. And I'm unemployed. Which means I have about two months left in which I can make money. I so want to play the lottery right now. I mean, maybe I'd have incredible beginner's luck, and I'd win, and while "money can't buy happiness," it sure would solve a lot of my problems. Or at the very least, alleviate them. But I doubt it's in the cards for me ever to get anything like that. Sadly. Geez. Ugh. Ok sorry. Hopefully I'll just get this job, it'll be...ok, and it'll pay at least semi-decently. And maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get a nice discount. Just for the necessities, though, of course. Sigh.

We shall see.

The troubles of a Bigfoot

Know what's really sad about the fact that I have ginormous feet? I can't get these (and expect them to fit very well). Or these. Or any cute socks. I'm doomed to a lifetime of boring plain old white socks. It's hard enough to find the large version of those, though. Annoying.

Incidentally, it seems that the UK has a number of online "tall girl" type stores. I don't know how ordering things online from another country works, nor do I know the conversion rate at all, therefore I'm not venturing into this new world of possibilities next time I need some clothes. (Which I don't right now. At all.) It's just interesting. Why aren't there more US-based ones? Are US women just not as tall as British women?

I guess I should just be thankful that I'm only kind of tall for the female gender. And not, like, very tall (over six feet) or abnormally tall (like...over 6'3 or something maybe). I just feel really tall because for some reason I happen to have befriended a number of quite short girls over the years. Like at school, there's Julie who's 5'6, which is average. And then there's Caitlin and Katherine and Bethany, who are all I think around the 5'2/3 range, maybe. I forget. But it requires a lot of bending down for me to be at eye level with them. And then here, there's Cathy who's like 3 feet. haha just kidding. She's like 5'1. And Hellen's somewhere around there. And then I do have some more close to my height friends. Kristina's close to my height. Lauren and Kaleena are probably around average-ish. I don't know. Guess it doesn't help that for some reason it seems like a large majority of the guys at ND tend toward the shorter side, which doesn't help making me feel any less stand out-ish, or shorter. oh well. Anyway, I'm rambling. The point is that I have feet which preclude the buying of regular sized socks, the ones that are generally labelled "one size fits all," but which we all know don't really. Alas.

A little late, but happy anniversary Mom and Dad!

Today is my parents' 27th anniversary. Forgot to post something about it sooner, but I didn't want it to pass without acknowledging it. In a world where 5 years is becoming a rare anniversary at which to arrive, I'm so glad and so lucky and so thankful to have parents who have endured through the tough times, the annoying kids, and flourished in the good times, and who have given my siblings and me a wonderful example of marriage. Here's hoping they make it to their goal, their 100th anniversary. (How cool would that be?) Well, here's to you two.

And their legacy will only grow bigger as our family does. (I wish I had a picture on my laptop of our family 19 years ago. And of my parents when they got married. Alas, I do not. My mom looked a bit younger, and my dad looked a lot more geeky. hehe. Love you guys!)

Get her away!!!

I should never be allowed to cook. I'm pretty good at managing to ruin anything I try to make, ever. Cookies, cakes, rice, canned soup. It's sad. :-(

Oh computer, how you hurt me

Normally, my laptop and I have a great relationship. I've given this thing a lot of grief, and still it puts up with me, faithfully sitting on my lap at all hours of any given day, letting me tap-tap-tap away at its keys. And I am grateful, and appreciative. Occasionally, however, and growing more frequent as it ages, my laptop disappoints me in a way that only technological things can. First of all, it must be noted that, to go along with my packrat tendencies, I often leave several Firefox windows open at a time. A few that are links that have popped up new windows, and then one main window on which I normally work which itself often has open at least a few tabs. I keep these things up for ridiculous amounts of time, as I rarely completely shut off my computer, preferring instead to put it on standby when I'm done at night, until such time as I open it back up the next day. This allows me to keep open said windows and tabs. However, it poses a few problems. My computer likes occasionally to update itself. And occasionally this brings up a nice little pop up, letting me know that it's going to restart itself automatically in five minutes. I can prolong the inevitable by clicking something along the lines of "restart later," but then this thing will pop up again a few minutes after I hit that. So I know that when that comes up, I have to clean house and make sure that if there's anything I want to keep, I have to bookmark it or just write down whatever I was doing or something like that. But sometimes, this will happen when I'm not at my computer. (A hazard of turning the computer on, putting my AIM to away status, and then closing the lid and doing something else, without turning the computer off or on standby.) And then I'll come back to a computer that has restarted and lost all the windows and tabs I had open. Normally, while it's quite annoying, it's not a big deal really. Most tabs and windows that I keep up are things I barely go back to ever again, so whatever. Occasionally it's more irritating, but usually it's just an annoyance.

Such is the case today. I went to class, after turning my computer on and then going away. Came back to a computer that was off and apparently out of battery. I initially thought it was just the battery thing, as I hate the battery on this stupid laptop. (I really need to do something about it, like Dell suggested I start up the laptop in some other system, like BIOS or something like that to see if the battery has more juice in that case, in which it means that it's Windows that's eating up my battery so fast. Right now it has barely an hour long life, even though it used to have up to three hours. I miss those days. But alas, I'm not that computer-savvy, and thus am scared to try anything like starting up my computer in another system.) And it's not just the battery that's the problem, it's something having to do with where the power cord hooks into the back of my computer. It likes to be very loose, and thus occasionally I'll just be sitting with my laptop and the screen will start flickering a bit, since it's brighter when the power cord is plugged in (and registering as being plugged in). And the really annoying moments are when I'll have the power cord plugged in, yet no matter how much I jiggle it, which usually corrects the problem, it won't register. And then I just have to wait for the battery to run out of juice, let it go to hibernate as it does when the battery runs out, and then plug the cord back in and hit the power button. And it works again. I have no idea what's going on with that. It was doing it back in December and stuff, maybe earlier than that, but then once I got to school I didn't really notice that happening at all, even when I took my computer off the desk and to somewhere else. I do not get it. I suppose I could have it looked at, as this thing is still under warranty, but I don't know what that would entail. I don't like the idea of not having my laptop for x amount of days, as we are quite attached (despite my occasional irritation at it). So I don't know. Oh, but yeah, so when I got the thing restarted and plugged in and all again today when I got back (I know for a fact that when I left the cord was registering as charging the battery, because I checked), it was to a clean slate, and I was confused. But then I got a bubble announcement thing that said my computer had updated and had automatically restarted. So oh well. Both annoyances in one day. How fun. Haha.

Sigh. I guess I'll probably just put up with it, as I tend to do with things that annoy me, even though I could probably remedy the situation. I'm so weird sometimes.

Scattergories meme

Rules: Use the 1st letter of your name to answer each of the following...The MUST be real places, names, things...NOTHING made up! If you can't think of anything, skip it. Try to use different answers if the person before you had the same 1st initial. You CAN'T use your name for the boy/girl name question. Once you're done, forward on to friends and back to the person who sent it to you. Now Go!

(Clearly I'm not following this very well, because no one sent this to me, I just saw it somewhere.)

Your Name: Susie

1. Famous singer/band: Sting

2. 4 letter word: Snow

3. Street name: San Miguel St.

4. Color: Shamrock

5. Gifts/presents: Stuffed Shetland

6. Vehicle: Subaru

7. Items on a menu: Shrimp stirfry

8. Boy Name: Samuel

9. Girl Name: Sarah

10. Movie Title: Sleepless in Seattle

11. Drink: Screwdriver

12. Occupation: Strong Safety

13. Flower: Scarlet Sage

15. Magazine: Scott's Stamp Monthly

16. US City: South Shore, South Dakota

17. Pro Sports Team: San Antonio Spurs

18. Reason for Being Late for Work: Stupid stop signs

19. Something You Throw Away: Soiled Sheets

20. Things you shout: Shut up

21. Cartoon Character: Slappy Squirrel

Ok, just stop

The Rockies are playing at Fenway this week. Yesterday, tonight, and tomorrow. We (Red Sox...perhaps I'm evil for finding the team that is my "local" team more or less laughable, and for not at all caring how they do) won yesterday, 2-1. We lost today. 12-2. Pathetic. Sigh. Stupid Yankees are currently on an 8 game winning streak. I hate them. Oh, Red Sox are still in the lead in the division and overall (one game over LA Angels, 8.5 games over Yankees who are second in the AL East), but...sigh. Losing 12-2 to the Rockies? Not cool, man, not cool. Oh but my point. So the local Fox station newscaster who does the sports in the 9pm newscast has been attempting a New England accent the past two nights when introducing the highlights of the game. Makes me cringe every time. Ok it's only been two times, but geez. Don't do it if you can't. I don't purport to be able to do one very well, but I know that, and thus I don't attempt it. Of course, the fact that I have family, lots of family, in New England and thus have been exposed to real New England accents perhaps makes me a bit more snobbish about fake ones I hear. Either way, that newscaster should just stop, because it's sad.

St. Anthony of Padua

Today happens to be the feast day of a certain saint who has helped me out on many occasions. St. Anthony is the guy to whom many of us have turned in those moments of sheer frustration when some item we're looking for is proving impossible to find. And you know what? In my experience, at least, he usually comes through in a way that can only make me shake my head and smile. So, happy feast day, St Anthony!

Prayer request

As hopefully most of you know (although it seems every once in awhile I come across a friend of mine whom I somehow neglected to tell, and it always comes as a surprise to me. And them), my sister is pregnant. Currently I think she's around 34 weeks or so, originally due late-ish July. Well, this has been a rather unpleasantly eventful pregnancy, almost from the beginning, but eventually causing her to have to go to doctors appointments twice a week, every week, since I think late April or early May. Well, long story short, for a few weeks they've been expecting to induce by July 10 if she hadn't gone into labor yet. She had another appointment today, and due to various reasons (apparently including the fact that he's already measuring around 7 pounds. Already. And other things that might be a bit more serious, although I'm kind of iffy on all the details), they want to induce her June 28. And it looks like it'll be a C-section. So long story short again, she could use some prayers. As could my little nephew. Just that everything go well, and they both make it through the next few weeks happy and healthy. Or as much as possible, anyway.

At the very least, it looks like I'll get to meet my nephew before the month is over, and that's pretty exciting. But prayers that he's healthy and fine and all would be appreciated by my whole family (and especially my sister). Thanks, all. (Even though most of the three devoted readers -- ha -- are probably members of my family anyway. Oh well.)

First date jitters

Ok, not really a first date, but the first day of my class. It went pretty well, considering the fact that I was sitting in class in JUNE, and aside from the fact that I had a bit of trouble finding the classroom and thus was a tad late. I managed, though, and hopefully that'll be the only time I'm late for the rest of the summer. (Begin laughing here.) It didn't help that it's a classroom where the door is at the front, to the side where the teacher stands. When the door is at the back of the classroom, it's sooo much better on those occasions when I might happen to be late. Much less obtrusive. Anyway. Oh, and ugh, it's like taped or something because there's a few people enrolled to do the class off-campus. Like so they can watch it on their computers or something. This means that when we, in class, participate, we have to talk into these microphones that are on all the tables. I don't like talking. And I really don't like talking into microphones. Oh well. The class went well enough, seems not too bad. We have to write three 1-page responses over the semester, and two 3-4 page analytical essays. Know what he said about grades? He give three. A's if it's obvious you put in a lot of work, B if you put in some work, and F if you obviously didn't try at all or didn't turn it in. Yeah. So...that's interesting. The only thing is there's a lot of reading to do before every class. A lot. Oh well.

One not so great thing did happen, as usually happens on the first day of any class. The introductions. He had been telling us some general stuff for awhile, and I figured he was going to let us go early, and finally he got to...the end of whatever he was saying I guess, and then told us he didn't intend to keep us the whole time. But that he wanted to get to know us. Ugh. I was hoping I'd get out easy and maybe we'd just have to go through and tell our names and something interesting about us or something. But no, he went through the attendance sheet, and next to each name is their grade and major. So he asked everyone about that. And then I felt it. The familiar heart pounding, the "Oh no not this, please no," the wild shooting around in my brain trying to figure out what I should say when he inevitably came to my name. This type of thing happens often when I can tell it's inevitable (or close to it) that I'm going to have to come up with something to say in front of everyone. Made worse in this case by the fact that, according to UCCS, I'm a junior LAS (college of letters, arts, and sciences) undecided. Meaning I'm a failure because I don't have a major. Obviously this is not the case, but they don't know that. So for the 15 or 20 names ahead of mine, I fought with myself whether I should say that I'm not really a UCCS student, strictly speaking exactly, or should I make up some story, like "Oh I'm really a philosophy major, it's just not on there for some reason." I could have said history. Most of the people in that class are history majors. But then I thought about it some more. I thought, well if I lie now and make something up, then I'll have to keep it up should I ever actually have a discussion with any of these people. If I tell the truth, perhaps it might set me apart in some way (I'm not a big fan of that in general, usually, including the fact that when I take history classes I tend to be in a minority in that I'm not a history major. But hey, I just love history, so whatever), but then I won't have anything to keep up about it. And maybe they can all be jealous that I go to ND, should they find out, because we all know that ND is the best school ever. Seriously. Anyway. I survived the ordeal, needless to say. Twasn't pleasant, but then speaking in front of people never is. I hate being in front of people. Part of the reason I hate running on sidewalks. I know I'm paranoid, but I hate it when cars pass while I'm running along. Or, for that matter, if I pass anyone. But I tend to pass people less than cars. Or, cars pass me. Ha. Anyway. Babbling now. I'm done.

Random

Unpleasant topics first. I saw another spider today. It was on the window screen, on the inside though, in our living room window. The one that's overlooking the porch. Where I saw a big gross spider yesterday. I guess I didn't mention that one yet. Unless I did. I don't know. All I know is, they were both disgusting, and they were both huge black furry gross jumping spiders. I've seen jumping spiders around here before, of course, but they've always been of the rather small, brown variety. On the one hand, small is better, but on the other they're harder to catch that way, and harder to see. But these two black huge ones...ughhhhhhhhhh. Sooooo gross. The one yesterday, I noticed floating down the railing around our porch, until it landed. At first I thought maybe it was a fly, but then no. Anyway, Mom killed it with her shoe, because that was the only thing we had around with which to kill it. And we, and especially my sister who was there as well, aren't the types of people to let spiders go on their merry little way if it's anywhere near us. The one today, I was gonna try to kill it, because although it wasn't an immediate threat as the window was closed, what if it just stayed in there until the next time we open that window, and then made its move? But I was freaked out every time I would open the window to try and squish it, because I was scared it'd jump out on me or something. At one point I squirted it with a squirt gun, maybe hoping it would drown, or perhaps would shrivel up and die as soon as the water hit it. Not sure why that would happen, but whatever. (I can't help it, I tend toward irrationality when it comes to spiders.) I ended up just leaving it there, hoping maybe I'd get some courage later or something. Awhile later, I went back to see if it was still there, and I found it crouched up in the top corner, looking very creeeepy. And then it was on the screen a bit after that. And I complained to dad, and he was like "You want me to kill it?" and he went over to kill it. He didn't really want to because he thought it was a crab spider, which are apparently cool (to him), but then when he was going to kill it he realized it was the same thing as yesterday. And then said "There must have been a hatch of them somewhere around here." Which is oh-so-comforting. Anyway. That's my spider gross out story for the day. Except now I'm expecting to see spiders everywhere. I think that every brush of my own hair against my face is a spider. Every little tingle I get is a spider. I loathe spiders.

I have to do something tomorrow which is so contrary to everything I believe in. Go to school during summer. Who does that? Ugh. Oh well. Girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. Still haven't figured out what to do about that cancelled class thing. I really would like just to do the one class this summer, but then that means I'll have more to do next year. And probably specifically next semester. If I do what I'm thinking, it'd be 6 regular classes, one 1 credit class, maybe a violin or guitar lesson, maybe (if I get accepted) a one credit seminar thing over break (which requires a few meetings beforehand, and a 5 page paper afterward), thus no break, football season, and studying for/taking the GRE. I don't really know when I'll have to do that, but I'm assuming next semester if I want to apply for the JP II thing with the intention of doing that right after I graduate. I could always wait a year, but I'd probably rather not. So that'd be 22 credits. Oh plus work. I'm currently signed up for four 2 hour shifts, as usual. But then I could just do 15 second semester, just in time for senioritis to hit really hard. Now, I could always hold off on doing lessons until second semester. Sigh I just don't know. Why oh why can't they just give me credit for at least one or two of the classes at UCCS last year? Argh. Ugh. Bleh.

I went running today, and just for kicks I decided not to stop at the first hint of being tired, or bored, or whatever, and I ended up running almost the whole way around the park without stopping. Total, if I ran the whole way, it'd probably be like a whole 8 minutes, but yeah. It's something, at least. Good to know I can finally manage more than 3 minutes at a time again. I wish I had more park to run in as opposed to sidewalks. I could always drive to Palmer Park, I suppose, and then I'd be able to run on trails instead of pavement too. But it'd add another ten, fifteen minutes onto the whole process, and I'm a fan of getting things done quickly. Especially when it's exercise. Oh well.

Guess I should go to bed at a relatively decent hour tonight. Gotta get myself up and ready for that 10:50 class. So early. Haha. just kidding. Hm I wonder if i have a notebook...I should probably check on that...

Corpus Christi

Today is/was the feast of Corpus Christi (well, the moved-to-Sunday version; it used to be -- and still is in some places -- celebrated the Thursday after the feast of the Trinity, which was last Sunday, but then it was moved, as so many feasts have been, to the nearest Sunday. A practice of which I am not entirely fond, but...whatever). Body of Christ. Celebrating the Real Presence in the Eucharist. I wasn't entirely thrilled with my parish's celebration of this feast (but when am I ever thrilled with anything they do lately? That's what I get for becoming more involved in my faith, particularly the traditional aspects of it. Sigh). I mean, it wasn't terrible, but it just seemed like "Oh today's Corpus Christi, here's some vanilla songs about the Bread of Life and something else related to communion, we'll mention the fact that it's Corpus Christi for a minute in the homily but not dwell on it too much, and we'll pretend to have adoration for about two seconds afterward." Sorry. I'm so bad, I know. And I Am the Bread of Life isn't a terrible song, but there are some incredibly beautiful Latin chants specifically for the Real Presence, like Tantum Ergo and Panis Angelicus. And while my well-meaning priest did make some sort of attempt at tying together the concept of the Eucharist with what the majority of his close to 30 minute homily (mostly about his trip to the Ukraine, from which I guess he just returned, where he goes close to if not every year, and the Ukraine is like our parish's special pet project type thing. Except, obviously, in a more serious tone than calling it a "pet project" evokes), I really wish there had been more about what the Eucharist and the Real Presence is, what it means, that type of thing. In a culture where a great percentage of Catholics (more than there should be, anyway) don't seem to believe in the Real Presence, or don't appreciate just what it means when we receive it, it'd be nice if we could get something on that once in awhile instead of the "Go out and do nice things" general homily I seem to hear a lot. Not that there's anything bad about that message, obviously, far from it, but...it's the feast of Corpus Christi. I don't know. I'm always so much more frustrated with my church than I should be, I know. And I didn't really exactly mean this to turn into yet another I'm-not-a-fan-of-my-parish post, but it has. I'm sorry. (And I'm sorry, Holy Apostles, you've been good to me for awhile [arguably...], but...sometimes the time comes in relationships where separation is inevitable. I may have reached this point with you. Maybe. Unless I chicken out. Or, for a lack of viable choices which would make separation worthwhile, stay stuck with you.)

In any case, happy feast of Corpus Christi. An important day for Catholics, in my opinion. I may be in the minority there, though.

Mmm...that's attractive

So I've been exercising more in the past few months than I ever have, continuously. At least in awhile. I guess when you're a kid it doesn't really count as "exercising." Anyway. I didn't really notice much of a difference with regard to how I looked, but when I came home I got the inevitable "Oh you look like you lost weight" etc that I seem to get from especially my mom and sister every time I come home after being away for awhile. Not sure why that is. Anyway. I've recently come to acknowledge the fact that perhaps I am looking at least a little bit more fit these days. I've been particularly noticing my arms lately. Still plenty flabby, of course, but they've at least got a bit more firmness to them. I think the reason I don't really believe my body looks that different is that my clothes really aren't fitting any more loosely than before. Maybe I always was wearing stuff a bit too tight, who knows. Anyway. And maybe it has to do with the fact that the place where I'd like to lose some inches doesn't seem to be losing any (that would be my hips). And as my hips don't seem to be changing much, it would make sense that my pants don't seem significantly looser.

Of course, none of this helps the fact that my face is still gross. I mean, it's been stuck like this for three days now.
I can't believe I just posted that picture. Well, hopefully it'll give anyone who sees this a good laugh. It's given plenty of others who have seen it good laughs. Man. There is nothing attractive about any of that. I can't believe I still have friends after posing for this picture. (But hey, one good thing -- you see those lovely gapped teeth I have? Those are now officially a thing of the past, and I am much happier for it. Sure, most cosmetic changes people make are rather shallow, but in some cases it really can boost a person's self-confidence. Unlike this picture.)

Ah, if only

I wish there were a knitting class at ND. That would be amazing. I really wish I were better at knitting (and crocheting, for that matter, because I can successfully crochet a row, but then I get confused when I have to go up to the next row. My memere showed me one time, but it didn't really stick or something. Alas). I'm good at knitting things like blankets and scarves, things that aren't round or don't require multiple pieces, etc, but I'm scared to venture into the world of hats, mittens, socks, etc. And I'd like to learn how to cable knit, too. The knitting thing I basically taught myself, but I guess I can only teach myself to a certain extent. When I've looked at patterns for mittens and such, I get confused. Maybe there's a book out there that goes into more detail about those types of things, but I haven't really attempted to find one very hard. I'd love to take a class though. I mean, they have painting classes, drawing classes, photography classes, ceramics classes, pottery classes (or maybe that's the same as ceramics...I forget). Why not knitting? Or a general sewing/knitting/crocheting/etc type of class. Twould be awesome. (I'd like to learn how to sew better, maybe be able to make my own clothes and stuff. Would definitely be cheaper. And I could make things longer, too. How nice would that be?) Too bad there aren't still "women's skills" type classes to take. Maybe St Mary's does has something like that. haha. Oh man. Anyway. I should take a class sometime. Places like Hobby Lobby and Michaels and stuff offer them, I think. At least Michaels. But they probably cost money, and time, and stuff. Oh well.

Not yet, please

It's inevitable, and will happen sooner that I would ever want, but I'm not ready yet, and my heart breaks just thinking about it. Hurts more than I like to say. I don't want to know what it feels like when it actually happens.

Waiting for the shoe to drop...or something like that.

You know, for some reason I'm in an awesome mood tonight, even though things are kind of not going very well right now. Mainly the school and job thing. I don't know what to do about classes. In my mind, I have a few options. Hope that I can somehow get into a class that's shortened but takes place in July instead of the shortened June one that got cancelled (I could easily get in one, but I don't know how easily I could get the credit to transfer, which is the whole point), or just go with the one class, have an easier time fitting a job in (and probably be able to have more hours, which translates to more money), but not be able to take advantage of the loans I'm eligible for through UCCS because I need to be enrolled in at least 6 credits to get that -- but then I'd have less to pay for if I only took one class. So anyway. I don't know. I just don't know. Obviously, if I just take one class, I'll have three more credits to take care of next year. Which would suck, this is true. But maybe I can just be a recluse next year, and spend allllllll my time doing homework. Sounds like a fun senior year, no? Sigh.

Ok so I was in a good mood, before I wrote all that out. Whatever. I got some applications today. Some more, I mean. Most places I go to just say "We always accept applications" but aren't necessarily hiring "right now". So I don't know. I'm doubtful I'll get anything out of these ones. But I can't just stop looking, because then I almost definitely wouldn't get a job. Ha. Oh well.

We just watched Waiting for Guffman, which might be part of the reason I'm in a rather good mood. It's rather funny. I hadn't seen it before. Well, I saw part of it on TV years ago, but didn't really remember most of it. It's the same people who did Best in Show, A Mighty Wind, This is Spinal Tap, etc. I'm a fan of those movies. And this one doesn't disappoint either. Christopher Guest is just amazing. It's crazy how much he's able to disappear into each of his roles so that you can't really recognize him. I mean, if you look for it you can see the same face and all, but it's just crazy. I think I'm a big fan. (And he's in Princess Bride, too, which is pretty much a great movie. That's just objective truth. Fact. Period.)

Yesterday was Mom's company picnic. Every year they do bingo for prizes. This year, I won. Four times. I was the first to get bingo (which was exciting), and I got a $25 Amazon gift card thing. Which is, you know, great. And then I won again and gave it to Cathy because I felt bad winning twice (but I kept playing...hm). And then I won again (these aren't all in a row, by the way) and said it was for Mom, as she got stuck with doing the calling. And then Dad was playing, kind of, but he was asleep so I was doing it for him, and I won again (and had to wake him up so he'd say bingo, and it was pretty funny because he was out of it for a few seconds). One of Mom's coworkers was playing, two bingo cards, and won three times, so I guess I could have just won for myself all those times (I was only playing one card, so I'm just awesome), but whatever. I didn't want to seem like a prize hog. Haha. Anyway. It was fun. I never win anything. So yeah. Good stuff. And I went to confession yesterday, which is always just awesome to do, hard as it is sometimes to get myself to go. It's so...relieving and load-lifting and all that. And I happened to be having a great hair day yesterday. Shallow as that is, everyone knows days are just that much better when your hair looks good. Hehe. Whatever.

Speaking of the picnic, I always hate it when something happens and I don't have a good response but then I think of one later, after it's too late to contribute the comment to the conversation. Case in point, yesterday at the picnic someone was questioning how a celibate unmarried man (a priest) can offer any advice, counseling, etc to married couples (he's a nominal Catholic, apparently, because he's Italian). I didn't really have anything to say that I thought would be at all convincing, so I didn't say anything (he was kind of more talking to my mom, anyway, although the whole thing came up because my major was being discussed. Which I sometimes hate, because when I tell people I'm a theology major, it's not something neutral like some type of engineering or business or art or something that doesn't tend to rouse certain feelings in people. It's something to which people either say "...Oh. That's nice" and then don't know what else to say, or they have some nice little quip about it. Rarely do I get the "That's really cool" or something positive about it. Just one of the things I accepted when I chose that as my major, though, I guess. That, and unemployment. Or employment with very little pay. Or very little to do with my major. Whatever). Anyway. I thought of something last night or today or some time that, in my mind anyway, would have been a good counter-argument, something completely secular that, to me anyway, addresses the fact that one does not have to be what one is counseling about. I guess I should just say it now, instead of being all cryptic for no reason. What I thought of was the example of doctors. No one says that the only oncologists can be people who have had cancer. Men aren't considered inadequately qualified to be gynecologists or OBs because they're not female. Many surgeons probably have never undergone surgery themselves. Etc. Anyway. I don't know if it's a very good counterargument to that particular question of how priests are able to say anything about marriage with any validity, but it makes sense to me. Obviously. Not that that means much. Whatever.

I really want to go camping. Anyone wanna come? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Sigh.

Well, this is the last weekend before classes. And I'm sure I will do absolutely nothing fun. Oh well. I'm not a fun person anyway. Too much fun might...I don't know...make me start hyperventilating or something. (Yeah I have no idea what I'm talking about. What else is new.)

Bye.

Why oh why?

Found out something today when I got back from my mom's company picnic. They cancelled the philosophy class I was signed up for at UCCS because of low enrollment. I kind of have been expecting this, but still. It's the class that was four days a week, but only through the beginning of July. This throws a wrench into things, a bit. A) I already have the books for that class. B) It's a bit hard to get departmental approval for a different class when I'm not physically at school to do so. C) Classes start Monday, which makes finding one and getting approval difficult before they start. D) It makes finding a job that much harder, since I now have no idea what my schedule will be like. E) etc.

I already sent an email to the associate dean of the college of Arts and Letters at school about it, but who knows when I'll hear back. Man, this whole thing just sucks. Why can't they just take the stupid credits from the semester I spent here? It's so irritating. I'm already going to have to overload at least one semester next year, and I'd really rather not add another whole class on top of that. Argh. I'm so frustrated they won't take those other classes. So frustrated. This sucks.

I guess much of this would qualify as "upbeat complaining"

I did something today that I bet many of you can't say you've done. Or maybe lots of people can. I don't really have any idea. I bruised my right ring finger. On the inside/underside/whatever, on the knuckle closest to where the ring is. (That's the weird part, not the fact that I bruised a finger.) And it showed up like right away, too. I was changing the cat litter downstairs, and had emptied the old litter and was attempting to re-fill the litter box. We had an open bag of fresh stuff down there, but it wasn't quite enough to fill the box, so I had to open this other bag we had down there. A 50 pound bag. It was heavy. Luckily, it had an "easy carry" plastic strap thing taped onto the bag, and I think that's where I got the bruise. It must have cut into my finger right at the bend there, as it did hurt rather much when I was carrying it the whole like two feet I had to take it to put it next to the litter box. And then after I opened it -- which is when I noticed that my finger was starting to look weird and a bit discolored right there, where the vein normally is, because it was hurting to bend a little bit -- I had to pick up the bag by the strap again to attempt to pour the litter into the bag. It wasn't easy, and my finger hurt even more after that. So yeah. Now I have a weird bruise there. It doesn't hurt too much anymore, now, just a little when I bend it all the way. So yeah. It's just weird.

Know what's weird? Some people bother me online for some reason, but I absolutely love them in person. Doesn't make much sense. Hm.

So today was windy. Very very windy. I think I heard the top gust in the springs got up to 52 mph or something. Anyway, as a result there was a great amount of dust in the air. Not necessarily noticeable, except for the fact that it was obviously hazy, and the mountains were practically completely hidden. Very bizarre. It was like...being back in Indiana. Except all the dust in the world can't hide the fact that there are actually hills here. Haha. But yeah, it was weird, barely being able to see an outline of the mountains, but still having the sun shining. (Unlike times when the mountains are hidden behind clouds, but so is the sun.)

Sold another book today. (Oh, just got another email, so that's two today.) $2.00 and $.75. I'm sure raking it in, aren't I? Haha. Sigh.

The Red Sox have lost four in a row, as of tonight. It's so sad. But I just knew it was going to happen one of these days. Now they're going to go on this downward spiral, and will be lucky to make it as a wildcard. Ok maybe that might be exaggerating, but who knows with the Red Sox. Eh I still love 'em. (But perhaps not quite as much as the Patriots, only because I'm so much more addicted to football than baseball. Even if Tom Brady, lovely Tom Brady, is going out with a skanky model who thinks it's impossible for anyone to be a virgin when he or she gets married, and also believes it's impossible to think that condoms and abortions are wrong. Oh, Tom Brady, how my opinion of you has gone down in the last year. And your cause definitely wasn't helped when you were spotted wearing a Yankees hat. Yankees. Ugh. Man I miss football though. To tie up this little parenthes-ed section.)

Today I was cleaning up a mess of cards that Jason occasionally creates when he's over here, and as I reached for a few that were farthest away from me, I noticed an ominously black spot on the floor beneath one. Didn't take me long to confirm my initial suspicions that it was a rather large black spider. I'm not a screamer, and didn't scream this time, but I did freeze for a few seconds. I put down the cards I had picked up, reached for a napkin from the table, turned on the light in the room so I could get a better view of the offending creature, psyched myself up as I generally need to do before going in for the kill of whatever insect has made the mistake of being seen by me (unless, of course, it's a mover, in which case I generally don't have the time I'd like to have before ending said insect's life), and went for the spider. I almost didn't get it at the right spot on the napkin, so that it almost got out of my hold except for the few legs or something I had managed to pinch in the napkin. I adjusted the napkin so that I fully squashed the whole thing, and proceed to the bathroom where I unceremoniously dumped it in the toilet and flushed. Didn't even let myself shudder until I was on the way to the bathroom. It was a disgusting spider, I have to say. Rather large, and thick, and black. Ewwwwww. I hate spiders. They're so...creepy. And I think half of their creepiness and the fact that I hate them so much is that you never quite know where they'll pop up. They could be anywhere...in a dark corner, coming down from the ceiling, on a wall somewhere, under a random playing card. It's just not right. And I hate them.

I wanna go see Pirates again. I haven't seen Shrek yet though. I want to see that too. Sigh.

Hm.

I'm not supposed to go that high

Yesterday was the incline. Went fairly well, actually, aside from the fact that as we got closer to the top, I was finding it harder and harder to catch my breath and I had to stop more often (but I didn't stay stopped too long). I've been home three weeks now, I must be fully re-acclimated to the altitude by now right? I'm just pathetic, is what it is. Oh well. It didn't seem as hard this time, so that's good. I'll probably do it again at least one or two more times this summer. Especially if I want to get in shape for climbing Pikes Peak. I am quite sore today though. Mostly around the sides of my butt or whatever. Near the lower hip I guess. My right calf is a little sore. Both Achilles tendons were quite sore last night, oddly, but that seems to have abated quite a bit today. Anyway. I'm never one to mind being sore (honestly, it makes me laugh. Literally. I laugh when in pain. I think I have some wires crossed. I also sometimes find myself laughing when I'm on the verge of tears (and not tears from laughing, but tears of sadness or frustration or some other negative feeling). It's really a weird sensation to be crying and feeling all those emotions, but laughing at the same time even though it's not funny. But then it is, because laughing at inappropriate times is sometimes quite funny, which doesn't help). So it's all good, the soreness. Plus, being sore means I worked out, did something, pushed myself. And that's good too. Although I probably wouldn't be as sore today had I stretched well enough yesterday. I did stretch a bit, but it was awhile after we had finished, and not very intensive. Anyway.

It didn't really bother me all that much while doing it, but later in the moments where I would get sleepy and almost fall asleep, I would get quite freaked out by the fact that I had climbed up a long set of very steep stairs on the side of a mountain. I'm a bit afraid of heights, in case you haven't heard, and I also have some weird fear of falling down a set of stairs headfirst. Or backwards, too, I guess. (I don't like walking down steps without a railing for this reason, partially why every time I do the incline I will be going down the Barr Trail way, instead of just back down the incline itself. Those steps are steep enough when I'm trying to go up them; I'm not about to attempt going down without the aid of a railing or anything to hold on to. I'd end up doing the whole thing on my butt, scooting down step by step.) So last night when trying to sleep, for some reason I was getting slightly worked up about it. I mean, when doing it I wasn't entirely unaware of the fact that if I stepped wrong at a certain spot, I could very easily fall one way or another, perhaps not doing even serious damage, but still getting hurt at least a bit. But thinking about it later on bothered me more than actually doing it. I think. Maybe not, and maybe I'm just forgetting that I kept having those thoughts while climbing the incline. Who knows. All I know is, I will never go skydiving. Or bungee jumping. And I'm glad I went yesterday instead of today, because I might just have gotten blown off the mountain today. Not my idea of fun.

Just a few things

I have the best parents in the world. I know I've said it before, but I don't say it enough. Better than I deserve, that's for sure.

I want to read David McCullough's John Adams and 1776. I just found out today, randomly, that there's a miniseries being made based on that John Adams book. With Paul Giamatti in the title role. I have a little trouble picturing anyone but William Daniels as John Adams, thanks to my family's devotion to the musical 1776, which we watch every year on the 4th of July (and incidentally, did you know that William Daniels plays the principal -- Mr. Feeny -- in Boy Meets World, at a school called John Adams High? He also apparently played John Quincey Adams in a miniseries called The Adams Chronicles). Or any of those roles with any other actors, actually. But from what I've heard, Paul Giamatti (and much of the rest of the cast) is pretty good for the role. Anyway. I think I'd really like to see that miniseries. Comes out next year sometime, but it's an HBO miniseries. So unless I can convince my parents to get HBO so we can watch it, I doubt I'll get to see it. Or I'll at least have to wait for the DVD. Oh well. And in looking at the discussion on IMDB for that miniseries, I discovered that they're also making a movie adaptation (not sure if it's an actual movie or just a miniseries) of McCullough's 1776. So that could be interesting too. I just love American history, particularly around that time. And the Civil War. And westward expansion. I get slightly less interested as things become more modern. I don't like modern, for some reason, despite the fact that I live in modern times. Imagine that. ha. (Oh and by the bye, when you go to the IMDB page for 1776, at the bottom the list of recommended movies "if you like this title" include National Treasure, Sound of Music, Fiddler on the Roof, The King and I, and Peyton Place. I've never heard of the last one, the next to last is ok but never been one of my favorites for whatever reason, but the other three I quite enjoy. Especially Sound of Music and Fiddler on the Roof. National Treasure is really good because it's all history-related. And I do like Nicholas Cage for some reason. But anyway. Just thought that was interesting. No one else will, I know. But that's why this is my blog. I can blab on about whatever uninteresting things I want.)

I really really need to buy a Harry Potter soundtrack. At least the first one. I can get it for $4, in "like new" condition, at amazon.com. I'm tempted. Maybe if I ever manage to get a job, that'll be my reward. (And speaking of Harry Potter, which oh by the way I still have to pre-order the 7th book, they announced last week or sometime recently that the release date has been moved up from Friday July 13th to Wednesday the 11th. Which is pretty exciting, because it's two days sooner. Now if only I had someone around to go with. Perhaps I could go with my little brother, but he's got two weeks off sometime coming up and was talking about going to Minnesota to visit two of his friends who have relocated themselves up there, and it was going to be sometime around then I believe. But who knows. Aside from him, I don't know who I'd go see it with -- no one in my family in the Springs cares at all, the Colorado friend I have who's most into the books and movies is in Florida this summer, and obviously I'm nowhere near any of my school friends, all of whom are eagerly awaiting the arrival of the movie and book. I guess those ND folk are just cooler than most other people, and this proves it. The only other person near me I can think of who might see it sometime would be my older brother, but he's up near Denver. So anyway. Sigh. I'll miss seeing it with my Potter-obsessed school friends, that's for sure.)

I still really want to go to the Celtic Woman concert. The one that was scheduled May 23 got postponed, and now they're doing two shows -- June 28 and 29. I so so want to go. I'm not big on live music, with the exception of orchestral/symphonic type concerts at least. The only real concert I've ever been to is Norah Jones, which was fantastic, but she's really good live. Some people aren't, in my opinion. But anyway, I think Celtic Woman really would be good live. Alas, I have no one to go with. (This is one of those times having a boyfriend would be handy. I'm sure he wouldn't like it, but I'd force him to come.) And it's $40 for the cheapest tickets. So unless I get a job soon, I doubt I'll be going this time. And even then maybe not, since my financial aid for this coming year is pretty lowered from years past (thanks to a brother who decided to join the army instead of going to college -- thus meaning I now have no other siblings in college, so I get less aid because theoretically my parents can pay more now. And of course the aid I got downgraded on was the university scholarship, not loans or anything. Sigh). I had an interview at Safeway today, because they're letting everyone interview, not because I'm special. There's more tomorrow, so she'll let whoever she picks know by Friday. But in the very unlikely event I'd get picked, I don't know that I'd say yes. The pay is crappy -- not even $7 an hour. If I did get it and decided to go for it, that would be the 3rd summer in a row that my summer job paid less than the year before. (After senior year it was $9/hr, doing temp work at my mom's work, then it was Dillards at $7.50/hr, then Wilsons last year at $7, and then this would be like $6.91 or .81, I forget.) Kinda going in the wrong direction there. This whole job situation just sucks. Sucks sucks sucks.

I'm climbing the incline tomorrow. Ugh. Apparently I have a masochistic desire to kill my legs and get a nice sunburn. Ah well. We may or may not reward ourselves afterward with some Dairy Queen. So, you know, that's something maybe to look forward to.

And I made $2 today. Finally got my books on half.com (ok, my wonderful mother I mentioned earlier actually did it, since I was having issues with the whole deciding what condition and price to put for each), and someone bought one today. A whole $2. Sweet.

Hm.

I'm a cluttered, messy, obsessive-compulsive

I just spent over an hour cleaning. My keyboard. I've been getting fed up with seeing dust and cat hair and such in there, and every once in awhile would take one of the keys off where I noticed something particularly annoying, but there was tons down there. So tonight I did that with one, and then I was like huh I should take off these three. And then I realized I just had to take off all the keys because I couldn't take it anymore. So I took them all off, and I found some q-tips, and I used some toothpicks, and even a very slightly damp paper towel to get any extra little pieces just hanging on various places. It's still not perfect, but I could be here all night trying to work on it and it still wouldn't be as clean as I want. So I finally just got it to where I knew it'd be tons better than before (and at least I can't see most of the little bits I couldn't get, because they're under the keys now), and I went about putting the keys back on. I did type some when there were no keys on at all. That was fun. I know the key placement better than I thought. Anyway. So now, for a little while, my keyboard isn't bothering me to look at it. As it has been for quite some time.

See, this is why sometimes I don't like cleaning things. It takes me so long to do it because I tend to be so meticulous about it. I think I take longer than anyone I know when I wash dishes, for example. It's weird, because when I don't clean things, obviously they're quite messy, yet I don't want to clean them because I know they won't end up as clean as I want them to be. Or something. Eh I don't know. Whatever.

Ew. I just had a spider crawling on my shirt. I freaked out, and now I don't know where it is, so I can't kill it, so I know it's crawling around somewhere near me still, probably. Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. I hate hate hate spiders.

Ok anyway. This is my 650th post. Crazy, huh? Less than a year, technically. (I have like one post on this blog from last April, but then I didn't really start it until August.) I guess I sure do like to write.

I bought A Mighty Wind tonight for like $6. Pretty sweet, if you ask me. I want to buy Best in Show. But I don't like to buy movies for more than $10, usually. Or CDs. Actually, I'd be happy as a clam if I never had to pay more than $10 for anything. Well, reasonably anything. Obviously I wouldn't expect to buy like a plane ticket for $10. That'd be crazy. But clothes, books, entertainment stuff, etc, that stuff should only be $10 or less. Yeah. But whatever. (I know, you get what you pay for sometimes -- I got a pair of $5 sunglasses last week, and today I picked them up and randomly one of the lenses had come out of the frame. No idea how or when it happened, but it took awhile to get back in. Crappy glasses. But I'll continue to get them, because I don't like to spend lots of money on anything.

Ok anyway. This is getting off topic. So I'll get going now.

Funny

Sometimes, I do things that cause me just to laugh at myself. Mostly inwardly, but I might allow a smirk or two to escape. Yesterday, I went to the library to pick up a book that I've had on hold for awhile but which just became available. (It's somewhat new, and thus has a waiting list.) I had just finished the second Harry Potter book the night before, and while I was tempted to start on the third (Harry Potter is rather addicting, I've found), I wanted to read this library book. So I got it, and kind of started on it a little bit during the day yesterday. It's the fourth book in the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series. Remember when the movie came out...three years ago I guess it was? Summer before freshman year. Well, I found out it was based off a book, so I wanted to read the book before I saw the movie. I read it, and I liked it, and I found out it was a series. So I then subsequently read the other two that were out. Devoured, is more like it. I remember staying up until probably close to four one night (perhaps longer, but I think it was around that time that I got off the couch and went to read in my room so that my parents wouldn't know I was still awake or something) because I was so into it. I read them alarmingly fast. Maybe not alarmingly, because when I get into a book I can get really sucked in and forego everything else -- sleep, food, human interaction -- until I finish. And then I'm a little sad that it's over. But anyway, I'm digressing. So I started this fourth book yesterday. It just came out in like January or maybe a few months before that. I hadn't re-read the others, so I was a little hazy on the details of what had happened in the second and third books especially. Actually, especially the third I think. I barely have any idea what happened in that one for some reason. So maybe partially because of that, I just wasn't getting into it yesterday. And probably also partially because I just wanted to get back to reading Harry Potter.

Well, last night I was doing stuff on my computer. And while waiting for things to load (like all those pictures last night -- I can only post five at a time, and it takes a few minutes for them to come up once I hit the "put in post" button or whatever it is), I would pick up the book and read a few paragraphs or pages. Eventually I was bored with the Internet and planning on going to bed, but I was in the middle of a chapter or something and wanted to finish. I hate leaving in the middle of chapters. I was almost ready just to say, eh, maybe I'm done with this series. And before I knew it, I was almost halfway through the book and it was nearing 3am. Although at that point I may have transferred myself to my bed. Either way, I stayed up way too late reading it. And I was hooked, too. So much so that today, after waking up with a headache much later than I meant to (I think I turned my alarm off at some point or something), the only thing I wanted to do was curl up on the couch and read. And so I did. And now it's almost four in the afternoon, and I just finished the book. Even though I wasn't that into it yesterday. Sigh. I'm a sucker for a good story, I guess. And it really is rather enjoyable. (Although, I was a bit annoyed because three of the four had sex in the course of the book, not that it was explicit in the slightest, and the word "sex" was barely even mentioned -- it is a teens book, after all -- but still. There was sex in the first, but it was something that ultimately turned out to be a bad idea. Not quite so in this case. All three who did it most definitely didn't regret it at all, and quite the opposite actually. But I guess that's par for the course today. Whatever. At least the character I probably most identified with in this book didn't have sex. It's something, anyway.)

So whatever. I guess I'm easily addicted to books. Although, oddly, I've been meaning and wanting to read Lord of the Rings for awhile now, and even started last year, but barely made it past Tom Bombadil and haven't picked it up again for months now. I might have attempted over Christmas Break, but then Harry Potter got in the way, and I think it's slightly easier to get into Harry Potter than it is to get into Lord of the Rings. I really should attempt it again one of these days. Doesn't help that I keep putting books on hold at the library (I have a new one that just got there today, which falls into my favorite category -- historical fiction, which I haven't delved into in awhile actually. And this one is Catholic-centered, too, which just makes it all the better). Oh well. A few days ago I spent far too many hours roving through the Listmania! and So you want to... sections of Amazon, looking through as many historical fiction ones as I could find -- and especially Christian historical fiction. My favorite. I think, to this day, one of my favorite series is called The Russians, by Michael Phillips and Judith Pella. Starts out with a poor girl in a little Russian town who gets sent to work in some high-ranking Russian guy's house, helping his daughter or whatever (who's her age). Anyway. It's like 7 books and covers probably 30 years or so, ending around the Russian Revolution I think. I've only read them the one time, but I sure did love them. Maybe partially because there's some part of me that finds Russian history fascinating, and I have no idea why. Especially the whole Romanov thing. But anyway. The point is, I wrote out a full page on Word of books that I might like to read some time. And yet, I so rarely read for pleasure anymore. And now that I have time, in the summer (and before classes start -- ugh), I'm re-reading Harry Potter. Which happen to be the last books I read for pleasure. Oh well. I need to read through the whole of the Chronicles of Narnia one of these days too. Sigh.

Books are so addicting, aren't they? I didn't mean for this post to be so long. Guess I just haven't talked about my long lost love in awhile, even to myself. Nice to remember the love affair I used to have. Going to the library, spending far too long looking over the aisles and aisles, trying to find anything to whet my appetite, only to walk out with a stack of books that would have been impossible to get through in the three weeks I would have with them. I made a valiant attempt each time, though. Haven't done that in awhile now. Sometimes it's almost too much work to get so caught up in a character, in the setting of a book, because before you know it, it's gone. But sometimes it's so worth it, even if the time you spend together is much too short. And there's always the promise of visiting each other again, someday. Or simply having the memory, bittersweet though it may be. Mmm, books.

Inadequate sort of photo essay of the semester, kind of

Because I'm bored, and have random pictures on my computer that I haven't put on here. Yeah. May have put some of these up before. But no one remembers. Besides, who wouldn't want to look at pictures of ND?

Aw, remember the first good snow in January (at ND, at least)?

Twas quite pretty. And seemed like a lot at the time.

Caitlin and Bethany enjoyed being in the snowy trees.

Our faces froze off the night we had to walk back to the dorm from the parking lot after the Keenan Revue the first weekend in February. It was like 30 below. Remember those cold cold days? Fun stuff.

And then there were the cardinals, too.

Oh the cardinals. So pretty.

It snowed some more. And it covered the Holy Family statue. (Perhaps I should have included the picture I took when we passed this after dinner one night, and Baby Jesus had an ice cream cone in his hand. There, just do a search for ice cream and you'll find the picture in that post. I think there was another time we passed it, more recently, and there was some other food item there. A corn dog, I believe it was. Seems wrong, but it's a little funny.)

It snowed. A lot.

And then my parents came for JPW in February. (I know I posted all these already, but I've already got a theme going here.)

I liked my hair the second day.

And my mom.

My dad's pretty cool too.

I like him. He bought me the drink you see sitting in front of me. Some sort of chocolate or mocha or something martini. It was pretty good. As was that weekend.

Random picture from Spring Break. When Kebbie was still fluffy, and Colt didn't like it. (Not that she likes shaved Kebbie being near her any more than she liked fluffy Kebbie.) I like their faces here. Goofy Kebbie and possessed Chicken.

And then it was Easter. It snowed on Easter too. Oh, we had some nice days between the freeze and Easter, but it snowed on Easter weekend.

It snowed a fair amount, too, considering it was April.

The Blue-Gold game happened at the end of April. There were lots of people there. Some with funny hats. It was one of the nicest days up to that point. You could tell who had been enjoying the sun after that weekend, because people were either still pale or rather sunburnt. I was in between, because Bethany saved us all with her sunblock. But most couldn't be bothered because it was too nice to waste even a minute inside putting on sunblock.

This was the only empty section. No idea why they had it closed off. I would guess that soon enough, the whole stadium will be filled for this game. Even though it's a pointless game between us and...us. But by April, everyone's starved for some ND football.

I took a picture of the inside seats just to be creepy. But you can't really see inside it anyway. I was hoping I'd be able to see someone cool like...Joe Montana, or Regis Philbin, or...Brady Quinn. Haha. Just kidding.

Here's some players (and lots of other people) on the field for some reason. Perhaps around halftime? All those empty seats there means it was not during any real action, but we moved for the last quarter or so and therefore this would be before that. I don't remember. I guess I didn't really get any good pictures of real plays or anything. Oh well. There'll be plenty of that in a few short months, I'm sure. (3 months from tomorrow it all begins!)

This is Bethany. She's curled up. Wheat Thins and studying for finals scare her. Even if it was a lovely day out.

This is Dolu. He's quite tall. (Especially because I took this picture from my sitting position on the ground. But he is like 6'6.) Wheat Thins cower in his presence. And look at that blue sky!

This is Katherine. She tells those Wheat Thins what's what, and saves Bethany from them (Bethany de-curled, if you notice). She's cool like that. And she took the MCAT today. I'm sure she aced it, because she's also cool like that.

This is a squirrel. He doesn't mind the Wheat Thins.

This is another. He enjoys the lounging. They're quite like people, squirrels are, when you get down to it.

This is a ring. A wonderful, beautiful ring. After months of waiting, my class ring came at the end of April. It was the best day of my life. Ok maybe not really, but it was pretty fantastic. (Even if this picture isn't...)

This is a large lilac bush by Galvan. I think that's what it is/how it's spelled. I had a class there freshman year, and barely glance at it now. But if there's lilacs, I will look. Especially when I'm looking for lilacs, the day before I was leaving for home (theoretically...), trying to take whatever pretty pictures I could without people noticing. (Why I'm weird about that, I have no idea.)

This was taken at night, one last dome picture of the year. It might have been twilight. I don't know. But there's a star (planet?), and the dome.

This was taken the last week of school. Thursday morning, I believe, on my way to...my Middle Ages final I suppose it was. I wanted a foggy dome picture. Although it wasn't terribly foggy by that point.

The Dome (and the top spire of the Basilica there on the right), as seen through some pretty, blooming trees during finals week. Or maybe just one tree.

And another Dome picture, because you just can't ever have too many. It was a nice day, the dome was quite shiny (not that you can tell very well here), and I was sitting outside between classes because one had gotten out reallllly early.

And I took a Basilica/Dome picture too. Because I like the Basilica and the Dome. So there you go.

Yay for pictures, no? I'm quite a fan. Especially when they're from ND. Ah, Notre Dame. :-)