For Chili

Chili's been waxing poetic about students who are unhappy with their failing grades. She's copied emails so we can poke fun of and roll our eyes at the sheer lack of grammar skills. We're shallow, so what.

Do you remember the guy I told you about in my Psych class who said he failed a test because his lecture notes printed in the wrong order? This guy emailed THE WHOLE CLASS instead of the professor with the reason he could not attend class this evening. Now, I'd like to preface this by saying that I am in no way making fun of having a sick family member and I'm so aware of the potential Karmic Retributions that I almost didn't post this at all. That said, here's the email. Word for word, spacing just as it was on the email.

This message is regarding a family member on life support at the [redacted name of medical institution].Iknow we have a quiz on chapters 17&18 and Ihave to turn in my reflection paper.I do not want miss class but these are tough times for me and my family. I am willing to do any amount of extra credit or whatever you seem that I should do.

Seriously? Wow, just....wow.

Hey, Mother Nature....

ENOUGH. Just, enough. It's snowing....AND there is thunder and lightning. Seriously. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?

Polar bears and puppy love

Booger's classmate had a birthday party at the zoo today. It was scheduled to last a bit under 2 hours. I was so excited about it because I was going to get to drop her off at the party and then walk around the zoo for a while. See some animals, get some exercise, have some alone time to clear my head. I had grand expectations for that time, I tell you. Except it was raining. Hard. So much for walking around the zoo and exercising. I did spend some time in the inside polar bear exhibit. It has a glass wall that shows both above and below the water. One of the babies (2 years old now, I think) was diving, swimming, and grabbing fish in the tank. It was really cool to watch. I forgot my camera, of course, but I took some cute pictures on my phone. But I don't know how to get them off of my phone. You'll just have to trust me - the pictures, they are cute. Oh, you can see the polar bears anytime here. Click on the animal cam link, you can see seals, polar bears, elephants and others.

Bedtime has never really been a huge deal here. We're big on the bedtime routine and always have been, so that helps. There's a system to bedtime. Bath, snack, snuggle/reading, brush teeth and go potty, then bed. She's usually asleep within 10 minutes and rarely fusses. (god, I'm totally jinxing myself saying that out loud.) During the last few weeks, this routine also includes lining up her stuffed animal friends along the side of her bed so they can sleep with her. Tonight there were 9 of them. The number varies nightly. I remember doing this, too, and find it incredibly sweet. Maybe she'll be a vet when she grows up.

Speaking of growing up, I think I'm changing my major. More on that as things develop.

One more thing, I am thinking of getting a Blackberry. We have Sprint and are locked into at least one more year of contract, so an i-phone's out. Anyone have a Blackberry? Do you love it? I'm planning on starting school full time instead of part time, so I figure this little toy would help kill time between classes.

Ten Things Tuesday

I love dessert. In all honesty, I could totally skip the main dish and just eat dessert. Not to say I don't love the main dish, because I do. Actually, I like the side dishes more than the main dish and dessert more than the sides. Sheesh, I'm complicated. Because I have such an affection for dessert, I have a wide array of favorites. They vary from the very basic homemade concoctions to elaborate restaurant overpriced towers of sugar. Here are ten of my favorites, in no particular oder. What are your favorites?

1. Pineapple upside down cake. Baked about 4 minutes too long so that the corners are extra crunchy. With extra cherries.

2. Slighty-thawed frozen blueberries with frozen Cool Whip. I can almost convince myself it's ice cream, HEALTHY HEALTHY ice cream.

3. Cold Stone Creamery. My usual is cheesecake ice cream topped with black cherries and mini chocolate chips.

4. Graham crackers dipped in frosting.

5. Cheesecake. Enough said.

6. Chocolate cake with buttercream frosting.

7. Creme Brulee', though I never get to have it because I'm cheap and tend to not order it. I need one of those handy torches so I can make it at home.

8. Peanut butter pie.

9. Strawberry shortcake when strawberries are in season.

10. Peanut butter apple crisp.

Ten Things Almost Wednesday

Hiya! How's it going? I bombed my Psych quiz Sunday. No, really. Spring Break threw me all off my rhythm and here it's Easter this weekend so no school again. Crap. I need to get my groove back! (Call Stella) (anyone get that joke? anyone? Bueller??) We have the wonderful opportunity to throw out the lowest quiz score and that's just what I'm planning to do. According to the email from the Professor, we'll also have the opportunity to take the quizzes home, look up the answers we missed - write a few sentences for each answer and potentially get 1/2 of the missed points back. (Holy run on sentence, Batman!) I'm going to do that....more for the study part of it than the points since I plan to throw it out....but it's a buffer in case I blow another one. In honor of blowing the quiz, I'm going to tell you ten things about my Psych Class.

1. We meet once a week on Sunday evenings.

2. The girl who sits next to me came in 2 weeks ago with a brace on her hand. She told me about how she was in a car accident and broke her hand. 15 minutes later, the brace was off, her laptop was open and she was reading MySpace and instant messaging on AIM with some buddies. Psych notes no where to be found.

3. During class on week 6, a student asked how many classes she had missed so far. (They take attendance and we accumulate points for showing up and participating.) She had missed three out of six. The same student asked the professor why she couldn't take the test she missed the week before.

4. I'm not the oldest student in the class. But I'm pretty sure I'm the second oldest.

5. My professor drives a red Shelby Mustang Cobra. It's hot.

6. I have yet to score a 100% on one of my papers. I disagree with his grammatical changes on the last one I got back. He deducted 1 point for "minor errors." I don't think they are errors. I'm considering posting it here so you all can tell me who's right. I doubt I'll need that one point later, but you never know. Good thing I know a couple English professors!

7. One student said - out loud and in front of the whole class - that he failed one of the quizzes because the powerpoint slides he printed were out of numerical order, so he studied them that way and THAT IS WHY HE FAILED.

8. There's the one student who has to top everyone else's comment. Oh, caffeine is addictive? Well, I can drink it and it has no affect on me. Oh, you stayed up for 29 hours, I stayed up for 4 DAYS SO THERE. This goes on all night every night we have class. So fun.

9. I like the one student who shimmies her hips, bats her eyelashes and flings her hair and will keep doing it until one of the guys in the class notices. Please tell me I was never that obnoxious. I know I had my moments, but seriously. She's ridiculous.

10. This class makes me consider researching a career in Psychology. I sure wish I knew what I wanted to be when I grow up.

The Internet suddenly doesn't seem so big

When I began writing online (over at Myspace of all places), I won't deny having grandiose hopes of becoming famous. Thousands of readers thinking I'm smart, funny, and oh yeah....beautiful! I'm not famous and thousands of people don't read what I write, but I still came out a huge winner. One day, I received a comment from this fabulous beauty who found my blog from NaBlo (I think, Chili, do you remember?) She and I hit it off online and began to keep up with each other's lives. Her friend, O'Mama came over to check me out and we hit it off as well. Last summer, when R was getting ready for surgery, O'Mama sent me a care package. It was so kind of her.

O'Mama's got all sorts of anxiety this week as she prepares for the party of the century, which happens to coincide with her daughter's Bat Mitzvah. I decided to send a little care package to help (hopefully) bring a smile. O'Mama received the package today and called to let me know that it successfully arrived.

I've never met her in person. Never talked to her on the phone before today. I know what she looks like, as we've exchanged family holiday photos and the like. When we talked today it was like we've been friends for years. No awkward silence, no strange introduction, just free flowing banter. It was FANTASTIC. We talked and talked and talked and TALKED. And I can't wait until we talk again.

Had it not been for my blog, I never would have met her, Chili, Kizz, Lanie, Professor J, Wayfarer and so many others. I'm grateful for this little blog. It's not only allowed me an outlet for all sorts of drama and angst, it's a place I now come to hang out with my friends. Who cares if I've never actually met them.

Motivation

This week in Psych, we discussed motivation. This is my paper on the topic (rough draft.) Tell me, what motivates you?

Motivation. It propels us through the day. It can help a man with no legs walk, a deaf man compose beautiful music, a 35 year old woman go back to college. It's something that is usually so obvious, but when you ask someone to tell you a definition, they can't. Introduction to Psychology defines motivation as such: "Motivation refers to the various physiological and psychological factors that cause us to act in a specific way at a particular time." What that definition doesn't reflect is how a person's motivation changes throughout their life. We use motivation before we understand the word or its definition. As we grow and mature, our motivation changes. Personally, my motivation has changed too many times to count.

As a child, I was motivated by praise. The praise of my Dad, in particular would make me feel as though I were ten feet tall. My dad isn't very physical with his affection. I always knew he adored me, but he never actually said it. He never yelled, never got too excited, he was just a mild tempered man. When I could manage some sort of outward sign of his approval, it was nothing short of awesome. That need for his approval and affection never really went away, other motivators simply showed up to push and shove their way to the top.

In my early teens, my motivation started to lean toward earning tangible rewards. If I completed chores around the house, I was rewarded with things like teen magazines, music (cassettes!), video games, and clothes. My mother always reminded me that I had to earn these things, they were not simply given to me. Because I was too young to get a job, I worked around the house. Cleaning, doing laundry, mowing the grass, washing the dishes. To this day, washing dishes is my least favorite household chore.

Once I passed my driver’s test, getting my own car became my motivation. I worked at the mall and saved all the money I could. I tried to convince my Dad to sell me his 1972 Chevy Corvette Stingray, but he wouldn’t budge. He sold it simply so that I knew, for sure, I had no shot of ever even driving that car! The lingering motivation of having that car is still with me, especially considering he sold it and bought me a 1977 Chevy Caprice Classic with no muffler. Seriously, I was hoping for a chariot and ended up with a tank.

As an 18 year old college student, sadly, I was not motivated to succeed academically. I was motivated by things like making friends, partying with those friends, and making the most of being “on my own.” I pushed the people away who would remind me that perhaps I was not choosing a successful path. I took academics for granted and assumed I would succeed as I had in High School, attend class and succeed; no extra work required. College was more challenging, but I was not prepared for it and withdrew with such a feeling of failure.

As an adult, I am motivated by several things. They include, of course, the ones you would expect: health, money, and happiness. Thrown in there for me, though, are things like self respect, trustworthiness, excelling as a wife, mother, and friend.

Many people look back on their lives with regret and feelings of “what if.” Fortunately I do not have many regrets in my life. The single one I do have is soon to be remedied. I am back in college and will get my degree. This time will be different, the motivation is there. Finally.

Ten Things

I'm inspired by Chili's ten things this week. She collects, or has, or enjoys dragonflies. I collect, or have, or enjoy way too many different things. It's part of my, uh, freak. Also, my OCD, but the OCD police call it hoarding and I'm offended by that because I do not get paid to keep this crap. Oh, they don't mean whoring? My bad. Too much NY news in my head, I suppose. (rimshot, please. Thank you, I'll be here all week, don't forget to tip your waitress.) (On that note, here's the best line of that whole news cycle: Sptizer Swallow?) (Okay, I'm done.)

Anyway, as I was trying to sleep last night I remembered I forgot (?) to write a TTT. While trying to think of what to write, I wondered if I could come up with 10 things I collect. It was much too easy to do. I'm a bit embarrassed. Ah, well....here's the list.

1. Dolphins - Figurines, not actual live dolphins. They don't like the soap scum on my tub. I'm not sure when the collecting started, but it was in my teens. Then, for many many years that seemed to be the only gift I ever received from anyone ever. Finally, about 10 years ago I said ENOUGH ALREADY. I love them so much they are in a box somewhere in the garage.

2. Make Up - Why can't I throw away that blue eyeshadow? WHY?!?!?!

3. Books - I have so many and I know there are many I'll never read a second time. I'm holding out hope for built in bookshelves or a *gasp* library room.

4. Black shoes. Chunky heeled black loafers, strappy heels, satin pumps, comfy flats, mules, you name it.

5. Clothes that I don't wear or that don't fit. My closet is full. So full I can never find anything. I would guess I don't wear 75% of what's in there. Maybe 65% if I keep the fancy digs that only get dusted off once and a while. Every time I sort through and bag up stuff, I feel like it's a total waste of money and feel guilty and promise to wear it. Then I never ever wear it. Help.

6. Hair styling products. Holy Mother I am such a sucker for new hair stuff.

7. Sharpie markers. I have probably 3 dozen. But I don't want to talk about it.

8. Handbags. I inherited this from my Granny. I love me some purses. This is the one I'm currently coveting.

9. Cookbooks. This should have it's own category because they're kept in a different place. I keep them on a shelf in the dining room. There are 11 up there. I have such grand plans for those cookbooks, but usually just cook the same old stuff. Why is that? Oh, I know - I always forget to buy the ingredients I need. Duh.

10. Music. R and I planned to import or CD collection onto an external hard drive. We completed a handful, but I just can't part with the actual CD. What if the EHD crashes and I am without a copy of my favorite obscure 80's songs?

What do you collect??

Time is a funny thing. It's been almost 8 months since R's surgery. It seems like yesterday and it seems like years ago. Our daily lives haven't exactly changed much. I think we appreciate the monotony of day to day life more; no, I know we do. Here's the thing...and this is going to be really hard for me to write because I know he'll read it. I sometimes think he has forgotten.

Not completely forgotten, because hello - impossible. Just sort of forgotten. I've mentioned before that he wants to run a marathon, right? (Wayfarer, I'm going to put the two of you in touch). Well, I simply don't want him to. I feel like a little kid who wants to stomp up and down and whine and wave my hands in the air shouting I DON'T WANT YOU TO! R has an appointment with his cardiologist tomorrow for a follow up. I'm not going. It's the first appointment since before his surgery that I'm not joining him. There are a couple of reasons why. I have to work, but could get out of it. I think I'm trying to step away from a situation in which I could quite possibly have my little tantrum about not wanting him to do the stupid marathon. I'll look like a fool, I'll embarrass R and myself and it just would not be good. I told him before that if the cardiologist approved it, I would stop bitching about it. I'm not sure I can stand by that, but that's what I said.

I'm all for R being active. Play tennis, run for fun. Run in a few lower-mileage races, like 10K or something. But please, for Pete's sake, don't run a marathon. Please. I'm begging you. Yes, millions of people run them every year and live. People who are worse off than you. But people die, too. And don't give me that sorry ass story about how you could die walking out of the house. I get it. But it's not the same. It's not. It's not the same when you watch them wheel your husband down the hall on a stretcher and you're not sure if it's the last time you'll ever see him. It's not the same when you see him covered in iodine, lying on a gurney, with a machine breathing for him. It's not the same when you see, every day; the long vertical line on his chest where just a few months before, a man had his hands inside there coaxing his heart to start beating again. It's not the same and no one will ever convince me that it is.

I can't help but feel like if he chooses to run this god damned marathon, he's choosing that over me. And that's selfish and horrible, but it's true. I absolutely hate myself for not being able to support him on this. But I just can't.

Tell me I'm being irrational. But, please, also, tell me you understand. Because I sort of feel like I'm just a selfish brat.

Primary Day

It's a big day here in Ohio. Don't forget to get out there and vote. Together we can change the world. Even if we disagree on certain policies, voters coming together can indeed change the world. How do you think people like Adolf Hitler were stopped? People came together and changed the world. Slavery was abolished because people came together and changed the world. We're helping save lives in Darfur because people are coming together to change the world. Women can vote today because we came together and changed the world. We can fix education if we come together and change the world. We can do so many things...so many great things....

Yes we can!

Feminism my ass.

Warning: political content ahead. I'm all for logical, thoughtful, polite, and perhaps non-bitchy political debate. Please read what I am about to write is simply my opinion. I'm not trying to persuade you. If you'd like to ask me why I feel certain ways, I will tell you. If you feel differently than I do, well, that's because different thinking makes the world a better place.

I happened upon an episode of Larry King Live the other night. His guests included a few political talking heads and several celebrities, many of whom are well known for their political activism. Among these guests were Ben Stein, Fran Drescher, and oh so handsome Bradley Whitford. Oh, Sean Astin was there, too.

There was some great discussion and I enjoyed many things they talked about. There were many good points made in favor of all three major candidates. (Sorry, Mr. Huckabee, you've lost your status as a major candidate in my book.) The discussion was all going swimmingly until Fran Drescher opened her mouth and all sorts of stupid spewed out.

According to Ms. Drescher, and I'm paraphrasing here, I should vote for Hillary Clinton for one reason and one reason only. She and I both have a vagina. It is my duty and obligation to my vagina that I not consider any other factors in voting. Hillary Clinton has a vagina. I have a vagina. The end. Here's the quote, copied from the transcripts here: "I think that we should not forget that one of the choices here is for this century being about women. And I think that globally, women's rights are eroding. If we women don't take this opportunity to hire this chubby middle aged women with heavy calves, who is willing to fight for us and fight for women's rights and -- you know, she's had a child. She's raised a fine young daughter."

Are you KIDDING me, Fran? John McCain doesn't care about women's rights? Barack Obama doesn't care about women's rights? They couldn't possibly care about women's rights because they are men? This is ridiculous. There is so much more to consider when deciding whom to vote for. I'm a woman who cares deeply about women's rights. I care about health care, the economy, the war in Iraq, education, and oh so many other things. I care about finally having a President who can walk into a meeting with foreign leaders with an open mind. I care about having a President who can, for the first time in a generation, motivate everyday people to care about their country, to believe that they can actually make a difference...no matter how small.

I want a president that I can be proud of.

I think it is time for this nation to move in a different direction and I just don't think having a Clinton as president is the way to do it. With that name comes a crapload of baggage. We just don't need more baggage.

So, Fran Drescher, I will not be voting for Hillary Clinton and her vagina. In fact, Hillary Clinton should be insulted that you think I should.