Yesterday I spent about...4 hours watching the first two series of Black Books which was created by Graham Linham and Dylan Moran. It's a fantastically awesome series about three misanthropes. Bernard Black run Black Books, a used bookstore; Manny goes bonkers and starts working there and Bernard's friend Fran spends a lot of time hanging out in the shop. They live drinking, smoking and being all around ridiculous. The characters remind me a bit of a British It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia at times, the humor isn't as dry as some British comedies can be. It made yesterday pretty damn awesome as I started sinking into being depressed.
Speaking of being depressed...I went to counseling yesterday morning, like most Tuesdays. Prior to I did that stupid thing where I sleep for four hours. Seriously, I think it's a retarded side effect from quitting smoking. I don't know, it's really friggin' annoying. I woke up at 6, I was able to get back to sleep, but being awake was not plesant. It's not like I didn't feel rested, but I know me and I know my habits so I don't understand why I keep waking up after only four hours of sleep.
In councling I spoke about what's gone on over the past week including going to a festival this past Friday and going to a youth church thing. I can appreciate where the group is coming from by using rap to make the youth feel closer to the message [it was a predominantly black church group] but I don't agree. It sounded mostly like hardcore rap which seems a little counterproductive. What I mean is, if it sounds like gangster, shoot-'em-up rap and you can't understand what's being said, how do they know the message they intended got across to the youth? If you look at my track record of music habits I'm across the board, except for hardcore rap. I never liked that sound, it has never been pleasing to my ears so I was judgemental. If you remember my earlier blogs about my opinion of religion I was already going in judging. I tried to get with it but I couldn't. When the speaker got up on stage to preach I was more or less fine with the message. He spoke about not giving up because something is too hard. That's the Devil's work getting you off your proper path. That I could get behind. I could not agree with his use of a cancer analogy.
For the newcomers, my mother died from cancer. I don't like talking about cancer in that ambiguous manner that if someone died from it, they gave up. Bull-fucking-shit. My family and I never 'gave up hope' we held out candle for my mother the entire time she was ill. We prayed, our church prayed, her co-workers prayed. She's now on a prayer list or something with some church, still. People have not forgotten us. There were a lot of people who didn't give up praying for her. The doctors did the best the could and ended up trying to keep her pain manageable. She died because of science. Why do I not want to accept it as God's will? I'll tell you. I don't want to accept it as God's will because I still needed her. I still need her.
I have met a lot of people who care, who will give me advice and help me should I ask, and even if I don't ask all the time. That's all well and dandy but my mother is still dead. It's not the same. If God cared about me than why did she need to die? So I could grow up? What's going to happen in my life that I couldn't stay naive for a few months longer, a few years longer.
Why did she have to die, science can explain. The massive amounts of chemicals in her system took their toll on her body, it could not take it anymore. Her kidney's stopped flushing water from her blood; her lungs deteriorated from pneumonia getting a hold of her chemotherapy weakened system and her body was too far deceased and disconnected to continue. Her body knew it was time, it tried to keep up but it couldn't repair itself fast enough. The thought that biology happened, that it's the natural order of life and death, that all living things die at some point made me feel better than saying 'God wanted her to come home.' Science gives me answers. I believe in science. I believe in some deity getting things started and is now sitting back or just plain gone and this world continues circling that fucking star. Science has yet to give us all the answers. I can accept that. I mean, if the universe started from the 'Big Bang' where did the elements come from for that initial beginning? If they came from an even earlier universe, what happened to that one? And where did that one come from?
We don't know, so I believe in science as far as it can give me an educated answer. It might all be wrong but it makes enough sense and seems plausible enough for me.
I left counseling this morning with my counselor asking me to detail how I felt as my mother was sick, when she died and after. Thankfully I have so many damn blogs and journals it's kind of like aggregating it and maybe writing something new, or taking this. Not too sure yet.
I left counseling and killed some time until I went out to Jerry's Art-Arama to get supplies for my color theory class. I spent $184 to get my supplies, giant 19X24 bristol, color aid, pencils, triangle, compass and a shit ton of 'other'. I did get to save abut $20, my friend who is now dropping the class, is letting me borrow some things for the duration which is pretty sweet.
Now, the trip back from Jerry's, which is out in Virginia Beach was an interesting and highly irritating one. Remember how I said I was slipping into depression last night? Well it reared it's bastardly ugly head. Fucking bastard. People's driving was irritating me and my friend tried to give me some advice on how to deal with it. It didn't help. I was in the middle of being depressed, being told just about anything does not help. We were stuck in traffic because of an accident on 64 and people just kept irritating me. My friend couldn't placate me and was actually counter productive. When I cry I don't want to be told it's fine to cry, I like rationalizing things out. I like words, I like taking the elusive and explaining it to the best of my ability. Why? It focuses me. It keeps me in control. I like being in control.
That's not to say I don't let myself go and go with the flow of things. I have been stepping out of my box, out f my comfort zone for a while, trying new things. At the festival I tried crawfish, I went back to a church for the first time in three years, I've gone out with people I don't know. I have no problem feeling joy, happiness, bliss, anger, irritation, depression. I feel, I like feeling with words. Tears do nothing. No, crying doesn't make me feel better, I hate crying, I hate it when I cry, it's like I've lost control in an unpleasant way. Science on wikipedia gives me a few answers but not much is going on right now to really prompt this. It's irritating and I really can't stand crying.
And looking at that and knowing me I can now predict a few things. As I said yesterday I knew I was getting depressed. As I cried I said I was feeling depressed. I've written more journals in the past few weeks than I have in a while. Writing is one of the things I do when I'm depressed, I'm trying to put my feelings into words, trying to work through it. Writing about any thing that comes to mind. [Yes, I want 'any' and 'thing' to be separate words]. I've been depressed and I'm PMS-ing. I'm not as hard up about candy unless I'm pms-ing, and I want peanut butter. It was never chocolate for me, always peanut butter. At the moment it's peanut butter M&Ms, yeah there's chocolate, but it's about the peanut butter. It's usually Reese's Pieces, I know these things.
So I'm in my car, trapped in my traffic, in the Virginia heat [with A/C], and I'm crying and depressed. My friend it telling me it's fine. It's not fine. It's never fine when I cry. Very few of my friends have seen me cry and it's always when I can't put my frustrations into words.
I hate crying. Period.
I dropped him off, came home, and made a 16 oz Cosmopolitan in a water-bottle. I downed it in an hour and rolled around on my bed drunk and doing nothing on the internet until I decided to see Toy Story 3. I have been thinking about not seeing it, but in the long run I had to. It was awesome. I didn't like that the three trailer's before the movie were for 3D flicks, I saw Toy Store in classic 2D and these trailers seemed like those movies weren't going to be distributed in 2D, I assume they will be but we'll see. One of these days on my movie blog I'll put up my opinion about 3D and elaborate on my distaste for it. And if you pop over to my movie blog, you can see my opinion on making pseudo 3D/CGI animated films, as critiqued by the Smurfs movie slated for next year. I also have some ideas about photo-realism, which can fit into that blog but will get it's own, because that owl movie looks creepy (it had human eyes..wtf?!? -ovular-). But, I don't like barn owls, their faces are disturbingly flat, and the movie seems to 'star' a barn owl. Joy. Or it's a masked owl...I don't like the flatter faces. The other things I noticed in the trailers is that there are two animated movies for this summer/fall that seem like they're supposed to be sympathetic to villains. The Will Ferrel one, Mastermind or whatever (...'it's BIG for a reason'...great, penis envy jokes); and the Steve Carell one, Despicable Me (reading this plot, this seems weak. I like the beginning idea, but where it goes, not as much). I think the trailer could be made stronger if the minion characters said the word right, instead of tailoring it to kids, if they broke it down on the screen for the kid to learn the damn word and not having the minion stumble on the word then having the announcer say it correctly.
So, Toy Story 3, fantastic. It was also hella depressing. It was also hella brilliant. I loved the toys that were there in the the day care, I loved how things played out. It was all really well written an animated. I don't want to spoil much, but I do with that more had been done with Bonnie's toys, they were awesome. And great voices all around. I could have gone with the Spanish Buzz joke, it went on a bit too long for me and seemed to be a little contrived, but outside of that bit of nit picking I enjoyed everything. It was written on a kid's level, but was great for adults without it needing to be vulgar, a la Shrek.
Yeah...I came back home and wrote all this out. It's taken me a bit more than an hour. So today was a roller coaster of hell, kind of. But I feel better now that I've written..something! See, crying doesn't help, words do!
Jasmine P.
Showing posts with label reality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reality. Show all posts
June 30, 2010
May 23, 2010
Concepts of Beauty
My Grandmother keeps trying to get me to change what I like about myself. We're supposed to be going on a cruise this August around the Bahamas. When I spoke to her last week she told me what it was like on the boat, "you're going to forget you're on a boat, it's like being in a mall' or she'd tell me about the Governer's Ball which happens one night on the ship, and that I have to be dressed nicely for dinner. I'm like 'alright' and she continues asking me if I'm going to 'get my hair done' or wear earrings, or telling me I can't wear denims, she's old and doesn't usually say 'jeans' for whatever reason.
I try to listen, but when she asks me an honest question I decide I'm going to answer honestly:
-"Will you get my hair done in a beauty salon": no, I like my hair short and natural
-"well, will you go to a barber? How much does it cost?"; between $10-15, and no, my friend can cut my hair;
-"how do you know they can cut hair? What if you don't like it?": I'll cut it all off then let it grow back. Hair will grow back.
-"You're not going to wear a hat every day, your hair won't grow long if you wear a hat all the time.": I like my hats and I don't want my hair to grow long, Grandma.
-"Fine, you're going to wear earrings right?": No Grandma, they irritate my ears, I don't like 'em. As I kid I didn't like them.
"Well, you have to dress nice, you can't go out to eat wearing denims. When you go out with your friends you have to look nice so you can meet people."
You'd think I'd be dizzy from rolling my eyes so much. I finally get her to stop this ridiculous attempt at changing me by explaining I wear and present myself how I like. I don't like dresses or earrings so I don't wear them. I like my hats so I wear them. I have the commonsense to not go to a nice dinner in baggy messy jeans or cargos, but it's the same commonsense that keeps me from going to a messy art class in a really nice shirt. It's neither the time nor is it the place. No, I won't wear make-up, no I won't conform to society's conventions of beauty because I don't like them.
I am me, let me prove to you my life is fine, that I'm happy, when I'm not depressed - my appearance doesn't affect my depression, so I'm happy in how I look, how I dress and ow I carry myself. I have been told that things I have ae nice, that they look good, stop trying to compare me to my mother. Stop trying to compare me to other people, be happy that I'm happy.
I don't know. I could easily just say yes to everything she says I should do, but I wouldn't be happy. It's better to get this stupid non-important argument out of the way now instead of it being a stupid non-important argument in three months when sh sees me to wearing earrings, not wearing make-up, not wearing nail polish. I'll primp to my own tastes not hers. The thing is, like I said, I like how I dress, I like the clothes I wear, I don't want to 'work' that goes into being 'beautiful' and that shit all costs too much. Concealer, mascara, lipstick, blush, facial wash, zit cream, nail polish, nail polish remover, hair rollers, hair relaxant. If I had one of each of those things I'd've spent $100 easy. Why? To fit into what society considers to be beautiful. I want to buck trends and fuck convention.
It's like I questioned in this image http://dichigo.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d1kcwn9 a scribble from a few years ago, I want to go back to it again at some point, but why should I listen to the magazines, the voices outside. To hell with them, if I'm happy how I am, why do I have to listen to people out there who work so hard to change themselves and others to their own conventions and beauty, to what they think society would like. No, that's not me.
When I leave for that cruise I will have some nice shirts, I will have one or two skirts, I will also have sneakers, sandals, denim gouchos, one or two of my hats, either my FreakAngels or Israeli Paratrooper bag, at least one sketchbook, pens, pencils, two or three novels and my DS, plus other odds and ends. I'll have things to look nice in, to look nice with that I like, and I'll have the things I like that are comfortable. It's what I like
Jasmine P.
I try to listen, but when she asks me an honest question I decide I'm going to answer honestly:
-"Will you get my hair done in a beauty salon": no, I like my hair short and natural
-"well, will you go to a barber? How much does it cost?"; between $10-15, and no, my friend can cut my hair;
-"how do you know they can cut hair? What if you don't like it?": I'll cut it all off then let it grow back. Hair will grow back.
-"You're not going to wear a hat every day, your hair won't grow long if you wear a hat all the time.": I like my hats and I don't want my hair to grow long, Grandma.
-"Fine, you're going to wear earrings right?": No Grandma, they irritate my ears, I don't like 'em. As I kid I didn't like them.
"Well, you have to dress nice, you can't go out to eat wearing denims. When you go out with your friends you have to look nice so you can meet people."
You'd think I'd be dizzy from rolling my eyes so much. I finally get her to stop this ridiculous attempt at changing me by explaining I wear and present myself how I like. I don't like dresses or earrings so I don't wear them. I like my hats so I wear them. I have the commonsense to not go to a nice dinner in baggy messy jeans or cargos, but it's the same commonsense that keeps me from going to a messy art class in a really nice shirt. It's neither the time nor is it the place. No, I won't wear make-up, no I won't conform to society's conventions of beauty because I don't like them.
I am me, let me prove to you my life is fine, that I'm happy, when I'm not depressed - my appearance doesn't affect my depression, so I'm happy in how I look, how I dress and ow I carry myself. I have been told that things I have ae nice, that they look good, stop trying to compare me to my mother. Stop trying to compare me to other people, be happy that I'm happy.
I don't know. I could easily just say yes to everything she says I should do, but I wouldn't be happy. It's better to get this stupid non-important argument out of the way now instead of it being a stupid non-important argument in three months when sh sees me to wearing earrings, not wearing make-up, not wearing nail polish. I'll primp to my own tastes not hers. The thing is, like I said, I like how I dress, I like the clothes I wear, I don't want to 'work' that goes into being 'beautiful' and that shit all costs too much. Concealer, mascara, lipstick, blush, facial wash, zit cream, nail polish, nail polish remover, hair rollers, hair relaxant. If I had one of each of those things I'd've spent $100 easy. Why? To fit into what society considers to be beautiful. I want to buck trends and fuck convention.
It's like I questioned in this image http://dichigo.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d1kcwn9 a scribble from a few years ago, I want to go back to it again at some point, but why should I listen to the magazines, the voices outside. To hell with them, if I'm happy how I am, why do I have to listen to people out there who work so hard to change themselves and others to their own conventions and beauty, to what they think society would like. No, that's not me.
When I leave for that cruise I will have some nice shirts, I will have one or two skirts, I will also have sneakers, sandals, denim gouchos, one or two of my hats, either my FreakAngels or Israeli Paratrooper bag, at least one sketchbook, pens, pencils, two or three novels and my DS, plus other odds and ends. I'll have things to look nice in, to look nice with that I like, and I'll have the things I like that are comfortable. It's what I like
Jasmine P.
December 24, 2009
2009 in Review and Reflection
This year has been tumultuous. I gave myself the beginning of an education in movies and cinema. I've read a bit, more comics. And I made my biggest life change in a while, I switched college majors. If you care enough for more detail and a lot more griping, feel free to read the archives, this is a gloss over of the year.
From the top, January. I decided back in January that I was going to watch 365 movies in the year, more or less, one for every day of the year. I had a short lead, but then school happened and my plans came crashing down. I continued on and it was rough depending on how classes were going. I stuck to my own DVDs for a long while, but eventually stated renting more movies. I switched my rules to those on the View Askew boards after about three weeks. It's been a fun and interesting challenge. My super fucking awesome Creative Zen X-Fi got stolen by one of my roommates friends on the gatdamned Inauguration Day, which is fucking bull shit. I stopped talking to her seriously after that shit. We'd been on rocky terms since the previous November, as far as I was concerned. It was also no skin off my back to not talk to her anymore; we were never really that close to begin with. In late January, I believe, I followed Seph_Hunter on dA, which plays into other things throughout the year. Movie wise I was all across the board watching any random movie on Video OnDemand or new DVDs I had. It’s when I went through my age of watching 90’s ‘indie cinema’ by that I mean I started with Robert Rodriguez’s movies. I went through most of his by the end of February, then switched gears to Kevin Smith and on to Quentin Tarantino.
February was cold. More movies were watched and I planned for a surgery for my hidradenitis suppurativa. Gearing up for surgery sucked, aside from the pain killers, those were still nice. I apparently drank with Ian and Nicole, that’s when we crashed at Ian’s place. In February is also when we went to the VIWFA tournament in Charlottesville, VA. That was a pretty fun trip. I was really bothered by the hidradenitis. Shit fucking hurt, was itchy and uncomfortable. Ahh, I had my random driving adventure to Elizabeth City because I was bored one night. Really uneventful. On the movie front I worked my way through Kev Smith seriously, then Tarantino. The Kev Smith movies lasted a while.
March, had my surgery. I loved the morphine, and being relatively stoned for the following three to four weeks. Yup, I kicked off my month with a surgery at the tail end of spring break. That fucking sucked. I was in so much pain, I’m still periodically in a lot of pain. I paid a lot less attention in my English class after Spring Break because we had gotten into poetry, and I was bored with the poetry. I wrote about food for a journal. It’s so friggin’ trite, I was too out of it to really write properly, but I tried to. Movies were more Kev Smith then a bunch of things that have very little to do with one another.
April sucked. I got depressed about not having my mother once more, but I did write a bitchin' poem 'An Abecedarian About April' yeah, rockin' the alliteration in the title for the win. I bought a show called 'Dead Like Me' and got into an awesome conversation with Seph on Twitter about Bryan Fuller, which has since lead me to being a Fuller Fan. I've since watched most of his shows on DVD, or Hulu, depending. It's been sweet. Fuller’s stuff has been amazing. Seriously, watching Dead Like Me got me through my depression that I assume was related to my mother’s death from 2.5 years ago. I felt a lot better once I finished the show, then drove to Hampton for some friggin’ Waffle House at 5am, and I made it back before traffic. It was alright. April was the awkward that was the sentencing of the rowing club for being idiots. It really was horrible to have to listen to these other students explain their guilt or innocence to us, then have to lay down the punishment, knowing that campus could change the ‘verdict’ if they felt so inclined. Hmm, April was the end of the semester, that’s when I started finding and watching more Emile Hirsch movies. Sexy boy. April, when my heart was broken by a boy I actually knew. Well, the breaking was in May, but it started in April. April’s movie connection seems to just be Robert Downey Jr. flicks, which is just fine with me. It went from Jake Gyllenhaal to RDJ with Zodiac as the linking film. That’s something I started working on, having some sort of theme across the movies aside from the director. The theme was pretty much just actors.
From the top, January. I decided back in January that I was going to watch 365 movies in the year, more or less, one for every day of the year. I had a short lead, but then school happened and my plans came crashing down. I continued on and it was rough depending on how classes were going. I stuck to my own DVDs for a long while, but eventually stated renting more movies. I switched my rules to those on the View Askew boards after about three weeks. It's been a fun and interesting challenge. My super fucking awesome Creative Zen X-Fi got stolen by one of my roommates friends on the gatdamned Inauguration Day, which is fucking bull shit. I stopped talking to her seriously after that shit. We'd been on rocky terms since the previous November, as far as I was concerned. It was also no skin off my back to not talk to her anymore; we were never really that close to begin with. In late January, I believe, I followed Seph_Hunter on dA, which plays into other things throughout the year. Movie wise I was all across the board watching any random movie on Video OnDemand or new DVDs I had. It’s when I went through my age of watching 90’s ‘indie cinema’ by that I mean I started with Robert Rodriguez’s movies. I went through most of his by the end of February, then switched gears to Kevin Smith and on to Quentin Tarantino.
February was cold. More movies were watched and I planned for a surgery for my hidradenitis suppurativa. Gearing up for surgery sucked, aside from the pain killers, those were still nice. I apparently drank with Ian and Nicole, that’s when we crashed at Ian’s place. In February is also when we went to the VIWFA tournament in Charlottesville, VA. That was a pretty fun trip. I was really bothered by the hidradenitis. Shit fucking hurt, was itchy and uncomfortable. Ahh, I had my random driving adventure to Elizabeth City because I was bored one night. Really uneventful. On the movie front I worked my way through Kev Smith seriously, then Tarantino. The Kev Smith movies lasted a while.
March, had my surgery. I loved the morphine, and being relatively stoned for the following three to four weeks. Yup, I kicked off my month with a surgery at the tail end of spring break. That fucking sucked. I was in so much pain, I’m still periodically in a lot of pain. I paid a lot less attention in my English class after Spring Break because we had gotten into poetry, and I was bored with the poetry. I wrote about food for a journal. It’s so friggin’ trite, I was too out of it to really write properly, but I tried to. Movies were more Kev Smith then a bunch of things that have very little to do with one another.
April sucked. I got depressed about not having my mother once more, but I did write a bitchin' poem 'An Abecedarian About April' yeah, rockin' the alliteration in the title for the win. I bought a show called 'Dead Like Me' and got into an awesome conversation with Seph on Twitter about Bryan Fuller, which has since lead me to being a Fuller Fan. I've since watched most of his shows on DVD, or Hulu, depending. It's been sweet. Fuller’s stuff has been amazing. Seriously, watching Dead Like Me got me through my depression that I assume was related to my mother’s death from 2.5 years ago. I felt a lot better once I finished the show, then drove to Hampton for some friggin’ Waffle House at 5am, and I made it back before traffic. It was alright. April was the awkward that was the sentencing of the rowing club for being idiots. It really was horrible to have to listen to these other students explain their guilt or innocence to us, then have to lay down the punishment, knowing that campus could change the ‘verdict’ if they felt so inclined. Hmm, April was the end of the semester, that’s when I started finding and watching more Emile Hirsch movies. Sexy boy. April, when my heart was broken by a boy I actually knew. Well, the breaking was in May, but it started in April. April’s movie connection seems to just be Robert Downey Jr. flicks, which is just fine with me. It went from Jake Gyllenhaal to RDJ with Zodiac as the linking film. That’s something I started working on, having some sort of theme across the movies aside from the director. The theme was pretty much just actors.
May finished off the school year, and lead into summer school. I finally had the chance to watch the hell out of movies, and I did. The semester was over, I was taking one summer school class and that was twice a week in the mornings. Maybe it was three times a week, I can’t remember anymore. During this time I went out on a date with the guy from April, then he never calls nor answers his phone when I call. I hold out for another month before cursing him and giving up. The last Monday of the month is a naming ceremony at my mom’s office, they decided to honor her memory by naming a meeting room after her. I was able to return home after finish a final paper and moving into Jon and Josh’s place for the duration of the summer. It was nice to see my Gramma, since it’s too long of a drive to get up to New York. Well, I’d be cool with it if I was hanging with friends, I don’t really want to just go up on my own, especially not from Norfolk. Movies watched were following Hirsch, and picking up old movies that I’d been thinking about watching.
June I did nothing for most of June except for sleep, not take care of my surgery sites, then I went to Wisconsin for a week. I had my first drink in a bar out there, too. I was out there for the Summer Wetlands Association’s yearly conference. It was an excellent opportunity when I was still seriously thinking about becoming a botanist. I had been on the fence, but that kept me in the botanical frame of mind until I returned to Norfolk when I ultimately changed my mind. My biggest reason for changing my major is that being a botanist isn’t really what I wanted out of life. I wanted to draw cartoons and I finally decided to accept what I’d known all along, that I shouldn’t be a scientist, that I should hone my craft and become a comic artist. Back in Norfolk I proceeded to lounge around every day because I had nothing to do. I marathoned the first Pushing Daisies in early June the bought season 2 when it finally got released on DVD. That show and Wonderfalls, which I watched earlier in June, had me loving Lee Pace. Fucking adorable man right there. June movies were Emile Hirsch, then random other it seems. Most months didn’t have a theme that lasted more than a week.
July was more of the same. I was a lay-about. I went to Borjo, drank coffee and befriended more of the employees. Most constructive thing I think I did was rip into a poorly written letter that someone a part of Avatar wrote that was reposted by a movie critic who had criticized the movie back in July. It’s December, I’m not digging the movie. I know plenty of people are, but I don’t want to see it. The story doesn’t sound that interesting and why do non-mammalian creatures have breasts? I could go on and on, but the sooner I let it all go the sooner I can get past the bit blue cat-people bull shit. July has a lot of action-y movies. Some ridiculous movies, and movies that I was finally getting to while renting more movies from specific directors, or written by directors but directed by someone else. July also features Al Pacino; I watched The Godfather Trilogy and a lot of his movies from when he was younger.
August I went home got a new pair of glasses made, and rear ended someone when I came back to Norfolk. That sucked. The car I had in between was nice. A Pontiac something or other. When Dorien came down to sign off on the check for repairs it was his birthday, so I took him to lunch at IHOP. That’s nothing really special, but he doesn’t go often because the nearest one to us home in Reston is out in Vienna. It was nice being just the two of us. I showed him the place I’m currently staying in down at school. Time passes, classes started and I had one hell of a first week. I had to rush my moving because Jon came back early, I was trying to get class stuff straightened out and I thought something was wrong with my car. Getting fencing up and going was hell because Rec Sports decided to claim we hadn’t turned in things that I knew had already been turned in. That got going, then I got to drive home late as all fucking hell on Friday for my father’s wedding on Saturday. August movies were more Pacino and more action for the most part, it seems, and some Bruce Willis because seeing him as a cop, or in generall running round and shooting people pretty much always makes for a good time.
September was awkward as all hell because that’s when my father got married to someone with the same first name as my mother. I really did not like being there. It was really weird. I had to start tuning it all out to keep from crying. Not from the beauty, but from it being awkward. I started playing songs in my head after I’d stopped making faces at my little sister. The reception was fine, then there was a little shindig at the house with the family and friends. I made it back t Norfolk safely after this drive, just tired of having done the drive twice in one month’s there abouts. Classes settled down, and I spoke with the advisor for Art, and learned what I’d have to do to change my major. I explained that I wanted to draw educational biology comics to sell to school systems. I wrote my rant with the best title, ‘I’m a Judgemental Scunt’ about my opinion about current women’s fashion. September’s movies were Directed by Edgar Wright, features Robert DeNiro, or filled whatever other odd requirements I was interested in then.
October was more class and Fall Break in which I drove home and hung out with Alex. I can’t of anything really special that happened then. I got into Woodstock a lot in early October. I watched the documentary and bought the soundtracks which are the live recordings from the day. Watched some Guy Ritchie flicks, was all across the board for movie viewing. Watching what I could when I could. I was depressed for half of October which led into doing nothing interesting. I got a kidney infection and missed 5 days of classes. I had some insane cabin fever from that. I pray I don’t get another kidney infection ever, that was just really annoying after a while.
November, I get over the infection and turn 21, but can’t drink because I’m still on antibiotics. After that, I drink, that Saturday actually, with Brian and other Borjo people at a benefit for Jon who got concussed over the summer. It was fun drinking my first time legally, but I didn’t drink enough nor fast enough to get drunk and that did make me sad. It was great to hang out with people and not be a lonely bore. Classes sucked, I hated English all semester and Thanksgiving rolls around. My drive home is made exponentially better because I pick up Alex for the drive, so being in the car for five hours is nothing because there’s a distraction, and he’s driving. My brothers give me a new phone as a belated birthday gift, and then I spend about half of Wednesday and Thursday cooking for dinner. I got mad stressed out from cooking and latent depression and PSM all rolled into one big mess of boil emotion and hatred which spilled out when I yelled at Miguel on Friday. That sucked. Fuck, I was so gat damned depressed for the rest of the day and accomplished very little over break. November’s movies were across the board again. I sought out some Cohen Brothers stuff but all in all just interesting movies that I heard of around or I’d been sitting on getting around to watching.
December finished out classes. There were some minor adventures with people from Borjo and a random adventure on my own. I spent a lot of my time outside of class in Borjo, chatting up the employees more and just being a presence there. I fed my caffeine addiction like whoa but it was a great place for down time after classes. I think I’m becoming closer friends with people there, I really hope it’s not just in my head because that would be lame. I finished up classes and took finals, one of which sucked a fucking lot. I spent more time working on Cinema hoping to get it up online for early 2010, but I’ll get around to my art in a bit. Actually I have not much else to say, the month isn’t over, there’s another week and a day until the end of the year, hell the end of the decade. Moves were all over, and as of December 24th I am 3 movies from accomplishing my goal. I will continue to count until the year is over, then it will all be posted together as one mega post before I start up for 2010 with the same goal, just different rules.
As for my artwork for the year. I created some new no-world characters and a lot of characters for Cinema. I’ve spent about half the year re-working the characters, refining the art, and thinking about the stories to get it ready for being posted once a week with the hopes of updating more often up to three times a week by the time I graduate. For the uninitiated Cinema is a comic revolving around 4 high school juniors, their day to day school lives and their film making hobby. The story will not be presented in any true chronological order instead each chapter will for the most part deal with an event in their lives. Some chapters will be the movies they have made. After having spent this past year watching movies from mostly America, but from different times and seeing different motivations and ideas Cinema is also a celebration of the cinema and of comics because I love both. Over the past 6-7 months I have worked to round out the world and the characters much more. Aside from the initial 4, then their supporting I have increased secondary and tertiary characters so the world of the comic can work much more smoothly and logically. When the comic is posted I will be happy to share it with the internet.
Aside from working on Cinema this year I have taken some of my perfect story worlds and added chaos and rifts. They were too saccharine and one a couple was together nothing could shake them. That I’ve shaken up a little. Some characters have new family members and some have new friends. There’s no more story than the characters themselves but they will be put to some sort of use. I have started using new supplies this year, nib pens and ink. I like the challenge for these pens and my work and learning more about drawing comics and working in general. I think from this past January I have improved in making my character designs stronger and more unique. I think my inking in improving and aspects of my anatomy works out better now than it did before. I’ve been drawing more in the style required for Cinema than anything else, but I feel that the improvements can still be seen across different cartoon styles. I have officially changed majors from biology to art and look forward to what challenges await and improving my work.
I don’t like the idea of making resolutions for a new year, a thought I’ve touched on before. What I will say about, for, 2010 is bring it on. Bring on your joys, your pains, your sorrow and your happiness. I will do my best to succeed and to not lose to you New Year. I Look forward to getting Cinema online in the coming months and to my artwork improving. I look forward to the freaks and geeks I’ll meet, to the disagreements and the change. I look forward to personal growth and the chance to prove to people that I am the adult I pretend to be, that I’m better than that. Most of all I look forward to new adventures both small and large. It’s another year, like so many past, but there’s still something nice and shiny about it all. Life will happen. I’ve bought my ticket, I’m ready to take my ride.
Jasmine P.
December 17, 2009
New Wave of Plus Sized Models
http://community.livejournal.com/ohnotheydidnt/42159348.html#cutid1
So, I went back to skimming things on Oh No They Didn't and came across this, an article about how Glamour or some such stupid magazine will be featuring plus-sized models, and people who look like they actually eat. Ever. I was "Oh, okay. Next." But decided to skim the comments and was getting annoyed with the callous idiocy I was seeing there. People were disgusted that overweight people would be featured in magazines. They were complaining that they just lost weight, and now their last weight size was going to be considered 'acceptable' for magazines. I really don't know how much of what was written in the comments was serious or sarcasm, but if as much of it was serious as I thought when reading it these people have issues.
Yes, I'm overweight, I don't really care. I eat what I like which includes Brussels sprouts, and also chicken nuggets. I'll eat a salad, tacos, burritos, nachos, baked chicken, fried chicken, rotisserie chicken, fish, pork, beef sometimes. I don't care for exercise, but I miss fencing, but current medical crap hell, it's not even current anymore, just medical crap makes fencing a bad idea. It's my fault I weigh what I do, but it is encouraging for impressionable children that the people that get seen on television and in magazines show not just one unhealthy size.
I wonder how that change in ideals came about. I mean, in the span of about 100 years, the 20th century people went from thinking that big women were best to waifishly unhealthily tiny people were the most attractive. In the past weight meant wealth, you were able to feed your self and the children you'd have. Underweight, tiny people kind of look like their underfed. I know people who would be asked if they had problems at home because of their low weight, but in actuality the would eat.
More of my thoughts from that post are about the people who bitched and moaned about losing weight and working off baby fat. You don't work off baby fat, it goes on it's own. You work off real fat. But I say eat what makes you happy, just be logical about it. I mean, I love peanut butter and unless I get an allergy I always will, but I don't gorge myself on it. I gorge myself on improperly fed chicken and coffee. I am more disgusted when I see tiny, underweight people in magazines then when I see normally weighted people. I don't want to see special definitions for each weight class, just show me models. And how the fuck did they become 'super' models? What are their powers? What do they do, going above and beyond to help people?
This rant is all over the place. I've had a headache for the past few days, nothing really helps. My next one should be better, and I have a personal 'year in review' thing to post.
Jasmine P.
So, I went back to skimming things on Oh No They Didn't and came across this, an article about how Glamour or some such stupid magazine will be featuring plus-sized models, and people who look like they actually eat. Ever. I was "Oh, okay. Next." But decided to skim the comments and was getting annoyed with the callous idiocy I was seeing there. People were disgusted that overweight people would be featured in magazines. They were complaining that they just lost weight, and now their last weight size was going to be considered 'acceptable' for magazines. I really don't know how much of what was written in the comments was serious or sarcasm, but if as much of it was serious as I thought when reading it these people have issues.
Yes, I'm overweight, I don't really care. I eat what I like which includes Brussels sprouts, and also chicken nuggets. I'll eat a salad, tacos, burritos, nachos, baked chicken, fried chicken, rotisserie chicken, fish, pork, beef sometimes. I don't care for exercise, but I miss fencing, but current medical crap hell, it's not even current anymore, just medical crap makes fencing a bad idea. It's my fault I weigh what I do, but it is encouraging for impressionable children that the people that get seen on television and in magazines show not just one unhealthy size.
I wonder how that change in ideals came about. I mean, in the span of about 100 years, the 20th century people went from thinking that big women were best to waifishly unhealthily tiny people were the most attractive. In the past weight meant wealth, you were able to feed your self and the children you'd have. Underweight, tiny people kind of look like their underfed. I know people who would be asked if they had problems at home because of their low weight, but in actuality the would eat.
More of my thoughts from that post are about the people who bitched and moaned about losing weight and working off baby fat. You don't work off baby fat, it goes on it's own. You work off real fat. But I say eat what makes you happy, just be logical about it. I mean, I love peanut butter and unless I get an allergy I always will, but I don't gorge myself on it. I gorge myself on improperly fed chicken and coffee. I am more disgusted when I see tiny, underweight people in magazines then when I see normally weighted people. I don't want to see special definitions for each weight class, just show me models. And how the fuck did they become 'super' models? What are their powers? What do they do, going above and beyond to help people?
This rant is all over the place. I've had a headache for the past few days, nothing really helps. My next one should be better, and I have a personal 'year in review' thing to post.
Jasmine P.
August 16, 2009
Touched By a Book
This is not the first nor will it be the last time that I write about how a book I've read has affected me. One of the last was A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints by Dito Montiel. Before That I wrote about how Hells Angels: The Strange and Terrible Saga by Hunter S. Thompson affected me, I think more how aspects of his writing had made me think because I know I have referenced the Wave Speech from F&L in Las Vegas.
The new book, the new story, is that of one police officer Mr. Frank Serpico. At this time his name is mostly tied to the film where Al Pacino did a fantastic job of dealing with the stress and difficulties that the real man had to deal with only a few years prior. I watched the movie and fell in love. While reading the book, some things were pulled straight from it, and the tapes that the real Serpico made during these trying times, so it was easy to transpose the film into the book. They were one in the same, but they are also wholly separate entities. The book, like any book, was able to cover more details about what Serpico had to deal with and more instances of his altruism were shared with the audience. There were more chances to see how and why he'd become disenfranchised with his job. Reading about is temper, I could only think of Pacino blowing up and just how well the actor fit the part.
There are a few things the book made me consider. First it made me consider what makes a truly good person. I like to think I'm alright, but I have severe doubts that I could do anything that Serpico did. I'd probably turn a blind eye to the corruption in the precincts. I'd probably accept my share; maybe use it, maybe save it up. I'm not sure, but I couldn't deal with the pressure he lived it, and I don't think I could deal with it for as long as he did. He had conviction that what he was doing was right, that it made a difference. It did. More than thirty years after the fact it brought to light what was going on inside precincts and just how corrupt the system is. Every yea we hear about some short comings, but they're never as extensive as what Frank Serpico's story shared with readers and viewers. They're also not as gripping, they weren't as ground breaking. It's interesting to think about just how different things are; it's also a little bit disgusting to see what was going on inside the heads of these people. The police officers, not the people they were booking. How the officers thought, that black people cried rape after it was wanted, shaking down people because of their race. The racism, it's painful to read. I know it still exists, but sometimes I like to stay in my little bubble where those things don't happen, where people look past the color of one's skin and onto the more important parts about them.
Reading the book I wanted to see again just what Frank Serpico had to deal with. His own moralistic hell. People not helping him because he was classified as a hippie. I know people brake off into groups based on their appearance, but it's still a bit bothersome. How many times he was shot at or harassed because he actually looked like he didn't belong to the NYPD, the point since he was undercover. He had to not look like a cop to be a cop. The separation between him and the other officer was insane. I'd say unreal, but it was real. We have the news papers to tell us the truth of what happened, the reporting. A lot of it's there, just waiting to be read.
Something this book did for me was make me consider about my few interactions with people of the Badge or Shield. I have apprehension every time I see a cop that I'm going to get pulled over for something, that I'm doing something wrong. I could be walking down the street to class and I wonder about a cop stopping to ask me a question. I worry about being pulled over again. After first being pulled over last year, that's what I think of. I know he's doing his job, but I was fucking terrified. I then think of when I was out in Wisconsin and I needed some stamps that some officers in the blue and white about to go and police something helped me. I asked them where I could find some stamps, they gave me a name and general direction and I found a grocery store. Something little that helped me out.
That little instance of the cops in Wisconsin helping me makes me think simple of Serpico, or a bit of the other way around. I needed help, sought it in the police, and things were fine. They didn't talk down t me; they expressed confusion, but were willing to help me on my quest for stamps. That makes me think I should be a little less apprehensive the next time I'm outside leaning against my car for a smoke. What I'm saying is that the story of Frank Serpico reminds me that cops are good. They can be trusted, and they accomplish more than pulling people over and arresting criminals. That's important, but giving the public a sense of safety ad well being by helping them on their way can be just as useful It improves the public image, and possible starts competition between the officers to perform more little good deeds.
This story kind of makes me want to try harder as a human to help my fellow person. Should I be able to help someone with a quick phone call-that would be fantastic.
Jasmine P.
The new book, the new story, is that of one police officer Mr. Frank Serpico. At this time his name is mostly tied to the film where Al Pacino did a fantastic job of dealing with the stress and difficulties that the real man had to deal with only a few years prior. I watched the movie and fell in love. While reading the book, some things were pulled straight from it, and the tapes that the real Serpico made during these trying times, so it was easy to transpose the film into the book. They were one in the same, but they are also wholly separate entities. The book, like any book, was able to cover more details about what Serpico had to deal with and more instances of his altruism were shared with the audience. There were more chances to see how and why he'd become disenfranchised with his job. Reading about is temper, I could only think of Pacino blowing up and just how well the actor fit the part.
There are a few things the book made me consider. First it made me consider what makes a truly good person. I like to think I'm alright, but I have severe doubts that I could do anything that Serpico did. I'd probably turn a blind eye to the corruption in the precincts. I'd probably accept my share; maybe use it, maybe save it up. I'm not sure, but I couldn't deal with the pressure he lived it, and I don't think I could deal with it for as long as he did. He had conviction that what he was doing was right, that it made a difference. It did. More than thirty years after the fact it brought to light what was going on inside precincts and just how corrupt the system is. Every yea we hear about some short comings, but they're never as extensive as what Frank Serpico's story shared with readers and viewers. They're also not as gripping, they weren't as ground breaking. It's interesting to think about just how different things are; it's also a little bit disgusting to see what was going on inside the heads of these people. The police officers, not the people they were booking. How the officers thought, that black people cried rape after it was wanted, shaking down people because of their race. The racism, it's painful to read. I know it still exists, but sometimes I like to stay in my little bubble where those things don't happen, where people look past the color of one's skin and onto the more important parts about them.
Reading the book I wanted to see again just what Frank Serpico had to deal with. His own moralistic hell. People not helping him because he was classified as a hippie. I know people brake off into groups based on their appearance, but it's still a bit bothersome. How many times he was shot at or harassed because he actually looked like he didn't belong to the NYPD, the point since he was undercover. He had to not look like a cop to be a cop. The separation between him and the other officer was insane. I'd say unreal, but it was real. We have the news papers to tell us the truth of what happened, the reporting. A lot of it's there, just waiting to be read.
Something this book did for me was make me consider about my few interactions with people of the Badge or Shield. I have apprehension every time I see a cop that I'm going to get pulled over for something, that I'm doing something wrong. I could be walking down the street to class and I wonder about a cop stopping to ask me a question. I worry about being pulled over again. After first being pulled over last year, that's what I think of. I know he's doing his job, but I was fucking terrified. I then think of when I was out in Wisconsin and I needed some stamps that some officers in the blue and white about to go and police something helped me. I asked them where I could find some stamps, they gave me a name and general direction and I found a grocery store. Something little that helped me out.
That little instance of the cops in Wisconsin helping me makes me think simple of Serpico, or a bit of the other way around. I needed help, sought it in the police, and things were fine. They didn't talk down t me; they expressed confusion, but were willing to help me on my quest for stamps. That makes me think I should be a little less apprehensive the next time I'm outside leaning against my car for a smoke. What I'm saying is that the story of Frank Serpico reminds me that cops are good. They can be trusted, and they accomplish more than pulling people over and arresting criminals. That's important, but giving the public a sense of safety ad well being by helping them on their way can be just as useful It improves the public image, and possible starts competition between the officers to perform more little good deeds.
This story kind of makes me want to try harder as a human to help my fellow person. Should I be able to help someone with a quick phone call-that would be fantastic.
Jasmine P.
July 7, 2009
Wanderin' 'Round Wisconsin
Monday.
I'm up around6 so i can take my time-ish, getting ready, bandages are still hell. I wake up Janelle when proceed downstairs and across a covered walkway, and around to the convention center. I meet Ralph and Scott P. and Alani, some of the metors. Ralph hadn't been at the thing on Sunday, so I think I was the first mentee to meet him. I then actually get into the introductory plenary session that's to get the ball rolling on everything. The introduction is fine, but the speaker, some woman who's presenting some information about Wisconsin wetlands. The woman was a horrible speaker. Now, I can't remember what I disliked about it, but I ws not enjoying listening to her, so I stepped out a minute earlier than the session ended.
There was some time before the first mentor-mentee thing that frank had set up for us, so I bought some terrible coffee from the hotel. Mein gott, it was bad, burnt to high hell. Waste of money. The session the mentors had for us was specifically about being a minority and getting minorites interested in the sciences. It was interesting enough. I had a short conversation with one of the speakers after this, but I'll get to that.
That session broke and we were free for lunch and whatever else we felt like doing. There's a rumor of free sandwiches upstairs, so I get one, then leave the other girls and wander back downstairs. In the convention center I run into the mentors, Kellen and Jennifer. The mentors and presenters were heading out for lunch, so I lead the group to the Great Dane, the third time there in as many days.
This time we're seated outside. I'm situated between Ralph [i think] and Dwayne, one of the speakers. Ken is there, Alani, one of the other speakers, Frank, I think both Scotts. I hve a grilled cheese sammich and some fresh vegetables. The conversation started about what the speakers had to say. I think I mostly listened. Can't remember it all. It was a fine lunch. We had back to the convention. I pop into a few more sessions before going up to the room to relax and change before the Student Mixer on the roof of the Convention Center. I see some fucked up shit on the news then go to the mixer itself. The food is alright. I eat enough for it to be my dinner.
I leave the mixer because it's hot as hell, and go back to the room. I stay there for a bit, then want to wander down state street, but not alone, so I go back to the roof of the CC and find some people there. I decide on ice cream, and the Scotts, Alani, Chelsea and I think Janediy leave with me, thinking ice cream would also be good. As we're walking I start explaining to Scott L., Chelsea and Janadiy the awesomeness of fencing, then we realize that Scott P. and Alani are lagging. We all stop and wait for them, then Alani tells us something bad has happened. By the end of the week I've pieced together that her mother got ill, well that's my assumption. We're all kind of down for a moment, and I point out a lady bug in Janadiy's hair. We've had a moment of silence, not knowing what to say, and this ladybug and the rest of the walk are a small reprieve for Alani. We all continue to a locally owned place in the middle of State St.
Scott L. ducks out because he needs to catch the tram back to his hotel, but Alani, Scott P. and Janadiy continue walking with me to the Walgreens down the hill. I'm in need of tape because I forgot to topp it into my bag before flying out. Tape and some edibles it's back up the hill to the hotel. It's late now, around 11 or something. I retire to my room and relax with the internet before going to bed.
Tuesday
I spend my morning on the internet, not wanting to go to see any of the speakers. I finally leave the room because of a session with the mentors. This is an interesting affair and it's treated as a dialogue between the mentors and us undergraduates. I can't remember what I did between this and the evening dinner. I remember, I sat in on parts of sessions. One I had to leave because the girl was so nervous that I couldn't stand listening to her. I felt bad for her. She knew her information, but was incredibly uncomfortable speaking in front of a crowd. I think I popped in and out of presentations until sitting in the hallway and chatting with people. Today was the first day of poster presentations. I didn't have one, but I did mingle and look at other people's posters.
The dinner was alright. Chicken something or other. The speaker was much better than I'd previously thought. He was a journalist and wrote a book based off of research about treaties and such in relation to the Great Lakes. How it was diverged and what not. Pretty damn interesting.
After dinner most of us undergrads went out down State Street. This night we shop together a little, I think, then hit a bar that cards me and lets me in. I end up buying a bunch of $1 drinks because it was easier than trying to think of mixed drinks to order, and lot cheaper. We leave this one after some time, and go into a second one. I don't feel like staying, and walk back on my own. This is the night my walk took forever. I stop and pee in a Greek place, and make it back to the hotel safely. I crash, it's going on 2am I think.
Wednesday
I get up early, proving to Nakoa and Freddy that I'm not so lazy as to no go to some speakers. I can't remember what I sat in on, but I go to a few. Needing caffeine I buy a espresso from the hotel. I should have learned my lesson from the day before, but apparently I hadn't. Hmm, today there's the luncheon for the mentors and mentees and that's pretty chill. Sandwiches, soup, a potato salad. The food was right tasty. The conversation amusing.
After lunch I hang out in the hallway waiting for the second career session to start. I chat with some people and pop in and out of sessions for a bit. I also collect some swag from the exhibition hall. I go to the afternoon career session. This one is much more formal than the one from the day before was. I was also really tired an started dozing. I felt a little bad about that.
I head off on my own for dinner. It's one of those days I get after being around people for too long. I need to be alone, so I go to eat alone. I'm sorely mistaken when I get back to the room. Janelle and Jennifer are up there. I grab my books, the Ames one and Public Enemies, and head downstairs. I get a glass of cranberry juice from the bar. They're nice and give it to me for free. I just sit and read for a while. Enjoying being on my own for an hour or two. It's pleasant. I'm tired, it's about midnight, so I go back upstairs, but Jennifer is still there. I'm fighting my antisocial urge of being rude and chat with the two of them before finally going to sleep.
Jasmine P.
I'm up around6 so i can take my time-ish, getting ready, bandages are still hell. I wake up Janelle when proceed downstairs and across a covered walkway, and around to the convention center. I meet Ralph and Scott P. and Alani, some of the metors. Ralph hadn't been at the thing on Sunday, so I think I was the first mentee to meet him. I then actually get into the introductory plenary session that's to get the ball rolling on everything. The introduction is fine, but the speaker, some woman who's presenting some information about Wisconsin wetlands. The woman was a horrible speaker. Now, I can't remember what I disliked about it, but I ws not enjoying listening to her, so I stepped out a minute earlier than the session ended.
There was some time before the first mentor-mentee thing that frank had set up for us, so I bought some terrible coffee from the hotel. Mein gott, it was bad, burnt to high hell. Waste of money. The session the mentors had for us was specifically about being a minority and getting minorites interested in the sciences. It was interesting enough. I had a short conversation with one of the speakers after this, but I'll get to that.
That session broke and we were free for lunch and whatever else we felt like doing. There's a rumor of free sandwiches upstairs, so I get one, then leave the other girls and wander back downstairs. In the convention center I run into the mentors, Kellen and Jennifer. The mentors and presenters were heading out for lunch, so I lead the group to the Great Dane, the third time there in as many days.
This time we're seated outside. I'm situated between Ralph [i think] and Dwayne, one of the speakers. Ken is there, Alani, one of the other speakers, Frank, I think both Scotts. I hve a grilled cheese sammich and some fresh vegetables. The conversation started about what the speakers had to say. I think I mostly listened. Can't remember it all. It was a fine lunch. We had back to the convention. I pop into a few more sessions before going up to the room to relax and change before the Student Mixer on the roof of the Convention Center. I see some fucked up shit on the news then go to the mixer itself. The food is alright. I eat enough for it to be my dinner.
I leave the mixer because it's hot as hell, and go back to the room. I stay there for a bit, then want to wander down state street, but not alone, so I go back to the roof of the CC and find some people there. I decide on ice cream, and the Scotts, Alani, Chelsea and I think Janediy leave with me, thinking ice cream would also be good. As we're walking I start explaining to Scott L., Chelsea and Janadiy the awesomeness of fencing, then we realize that Scott P. and Alani are lagging. We all stop and wait for them, then Alani tells us something bad has happened. By the end of the week I've pieced together that her mother got ill, well that's my assumption. We're all kind of down for a moment, and I point out a lady bug in Janadiy's hair. We've had a moment of silence, not knowing what to say, and this ladybug and the rest of the walk are a small reprieve for Alani. We all continue to a locally owned place in the middle of State St.
Scott L. ducks out because he needs to catch the tram back to his hotel, but Alani, Scott P. and Janadiy continue walking with me to the Walgreens down the hill. I'm in need of tape because I forgot to topp it into my bag before flying out. Tape and some edibles it's back up the hill to the hotel. It's late now, around 11 or something. I retire to my room and relax with the internet before going to bed.
Tuesday
I spend my morning on the internet, not wanting to go to see any of the speakers. I finally leave the room because of a session with the mentors. This is an interesting affair and it's treated as a dialogue between the mentors and us undergraduates. I can't remember what I did between this and the evening dinner. I remember, I sat in on parts of sessions. One I had to leave because the girl was so nervous that I couldn't stand listening to her. I felt bad for her. She knew her information, but was incredibly uncomfortable speaking in front of a crowd. I think I popped in and out of presentations until sitting in the hallway and chatting with people. Today was the first day of poster presentations. I didn't have one, but I did mingle and look at other people's posters.
The dinner was alright. Chicken something or other. The speaker was much better than I'd previously thought. He was a journalist and wrote a book based off of research about treaties and such in relation to the Great Lakes. How it was diverged and what not. Pretty damn interesting.
After dinner most of us undergrads went out down State Street. This night we shop together a little, I think, then hit a bar that cards me and lets me in. I end up buying a bunch of $1 drinks because it was easier than trying to think of mixed drinks to order, and lot cheaper. We leave this one after some time, and go into a second one. I don't feel like staying, and walk back on my own. This is the night my walk took forever. I stop and pee in a Greek place, and make it back to the hotel safely. I crash, it's going on 2am I think.
Wednesday
I get up early, proving to Nakoa and Freddy that I'm not so lazy as to no go to some speakers. I can't remember what I sat in on, but I go to a few. Needing caffeine I buy a espresso from the hotel. I should have learned my lesson from the day before, but apparently I hadn't. Hmm, today there's the luncheon for the mentors and mentees and that's pretty chill. Sandwiches, soup, a potato salad. The food was right tasty. The conversation amusing.
After lunch I hang out in the hallway waiting for the second career session to start. I chat with some people and pop in and out of sessions for a bit. I also collect some swag from the exhibition hall. I go to the afternoon career session. This one is much more formal than the one from the day before was. I was also really tired an started dozing. I felt a little bad about that.
I head off on my own for dinner. It's one of those days I get after being around people for too long. I need to be alone, so I go to eat alone. I'm sorely mistaken when I get back to the room. Janelle and Jennifer are up there. I grab my books, the Ames one and Public Enemies, and head downstairs. I get a glass of cranberry juice from the bar. They're nice and give it to me for free. I just sit and read for a while. Enjoying being on my own for an hour or two. It's pleasant. I'm tired, it's about midnight, so I go back upstairs, but Jennifer is still there. I'm fighting my antisocial urge of being rude and chat with the two of them before finally going to sleep.
Jasmine P.
July 3, 2009
Wildin' Out in Wisconsin
After regaling the Ficus with tales of Wisconsin, I think I might hop to and get started on writing about that week before it gets too far away from me. From the other entry, before my heartbroken and voyeuristic rant, I left off from the night before leaving for Madison, WI.
After sobering up and waiting for my flight, between Norfolk and Detroit was uneventful. There was that weird bitch who wanted to wait in a longer line, but that was before the flight. I had an aisle seat which was pretty chill. I stayed awake the entire time and read through my new Esquire after I finished the SMod I'd been listening to. In Detroit I was originally worried about not being able to find my next terminal, but they were damn near side by side. from A-2 to A-7, so I grabbed an overpriced sandwich from Quiznos because it had been 12+ hours since my previous meal. I chilled and hopped onto my second flight. This time I was closer to the front of the plane, still in the aisle, and this plane was only 5 seats across, unlike the first which was 6.
In Wisconsin there was some trouble at the airport because the courtesy phones were being worked on or something, so the lady at the information desk called the hotel for me, and I waited. It took the kid about 30 min to get me, then it was just the two of us in one of those vans. DC sniper style, plus windows. Hmm, a regular van, I dunno. I checked into the hotel and freaked out because my check card was mia, but at some point I'd put it into the larger pocket where cash goes instead of behind my liscense. All was good about and hour later. I checked in and fucked around on the internet for a while.
Starved, I got a map and left the hotel on my own, striking out to find something cheap and close. I ended up going to the Great Dane, a bar, and order some pretzels. They were huge puffy pretzel sticks and in store made mustard. The pretzels were tasty, and the mustard a different experience. It had horserdish in it, made it some spicy shit. Seriously. My sinuses were clear, every time it tuched my tongue my mouth watered and my eyes teared. The bartender was nice and kept asking if I wanted anything else, I drank water. In retrospect I might have been able to get booze, but it was well enough that I hadn't tried for it.
Finished with my snack and adventure I headed back to the hotel and soon met with my roommate Janelle. I was quiet and wary, probably from being tired. I dunno. We both took naps and were the last to show up for dinner with Prof. Day, who I may or may not refer to as Frank for the rest of this post. Anywho, it's Frank, myself, Janelle, Chelsea, Freddy, Nakoa and Kellen at dinner this evening. Jenediy[sp] and Jennifer don't arrive until 10 so we go out without them for a group dinner.
We all walk down state street and decide on an Italian place. The conversation is tame, compared to the rest of the week. Freddy tells a bunch of silly stories and so the jokes start. Making fun of him. He said 'i don't know why, but girls keep giving me things' or silly things like that. After dinner Frank goes back to the hotel and our group continues down State St. where we just look around. Some of us buy some very tasty gellato from a local place. We keep on down the hill, eying places to check out later. I see a hat place called 'The Stuffed Feather' and decide to go there the next day.
We all walk all the way down the hill before some of us go back to the hotel. The boys, Nakoa and Freddy, keep walking around and find a bar eventually, apparently, from what they tell us later. Janelle and I chat a bit before going to sleep.
Sunday, June 22.
I wake sometime mid morning. I hang in the hotel for a while, until I'm too hungry to not wander, and eventually leave, heading down State St. where I go to the hat place. I buy my awesome new corduroy cap then head to the Noodle Company for lunch. I think now I wander back to the hotel so I can register for the week and get my name tag and program. Originally I'm not on the list for my field trip, so I get that sorted out. I then hang out in the lobby before the unndergrads and their mentors all meet up. Here there's a preliminry introduction to the rest of the mentors. I meet both Scotts there, Rebecca, Ken, Jacoby, and Alani. Ralph is late, I forget why.
Our big ole group heads to the Great Dane for dinner. The food is fantastic. I buy a chicken pot pie. Mmm, tasty. I spend the evening chatting with one of the Scotts, not registering there are two of them. I think I make and interesting impression on Scott L. who ends up being one of my favorite people to chat with for the entire week. Also at my table are Nakoa, Ken, Frank, Chelsea, and Jenediay. There was another man there, but I'm not sure who. The conversation goes from out ages to our interests. It's loose and fun.
After dinner the mentors roll out, and use undergrads walk down State St. to the University of Wisconsin-Madison campus is. Their student center sells beer. I drink some horrible weak miller light then decide I'm really not a beer person. Freddy tries to give me crap about it, but I defend my point that I think beer tastes horrible, and that I like real alcohol, liquor and such. We all walk back because we have an early morning.
Back in the hotel Janelle and I end up staying up for a time on out computers. Janelle is apparently having a fight with her boyfriend and stays up until 4. We're supposed to go to the plenary session in the morning. I try to sleep, and do succeed for the most part, sleeping until I need to get ready.
----
Ooh, so much writing for only two days. I'll continue on my play-by-play of the week after sleeping seeing as how I have things I need to do in the morning and would like sleep myself. Next post, Monday and the plenary session until...Tuesday or Wednesday I presume. It depends on when I start writing. Geez, this post is so epically long.
Jasmine P.
After sobering up and waiting for my flight, between Norfolk and Detroit was uneventful. There was that weird bitch who wanted to wait in a longer line, but that was before the flight. I had an aisle seat which was pretty chill. I stayed awake the entire time and read through my new Esquire after I finished the SMod I'd been listening to. In Detroit I was originally worried about not being able to find my next terminal, but they were damn near side by side. from A-2 to A-7, so I grabbed an overpriced sandwich from Quiznos because it had been 12+ hours since my previous meal. I chilled and hopped onto my second flight. This time I was closer to the front of the plane, still in the aisle, and this plane was only 5 seats across, unlike the first which was 6.
In Wisconsin there was some trouble at the airport because the courtesy phones were being worked on or something, so the lady at the information desk called the hotel for me, and I waited. It took the kid about 30 min to get me, then it was just the two of us in one of those vans. DC sniper style, plus windows. Hmm, a regular van, I dunno. I checked into the hotel and freaked out because my check card was mia, but at some point I'd put it into the larger pocket where cash goes instead of behind my liscense. All was good about and hour later. I checked in and fucked around on the internet for a while.
Starved, I got a map and left the hotel on my own, striking out to find something cheap and close. I ended up going to the Great Dane, a bar, and order some pretzels. They were huge puffy pretzel sticks and in store made mustard. The pretzels were tasty, and the mustard a different experience. It had horserdish in it, made it some spicy shit. Seriously. My sinuses were clear, every time it tuched my tongue my mouth watered and my eyes teared. The bartender was nice and kept asking if I wanted anything else, I drank water. In retrospect I might have been able to get booze, but it was well enough that I hadn't tried for it.
Finished with my snack and adventure I headed back to the hotel and soon met with my roommate Janelle. I was quiet and wary, probably from being tired. I dunno. We both took naps and were the last to show up for dinner with Prof. Day, who I may or may not refer to as Frank for the rest of this post. Anywho, it's Frank, myself, Janelle, Chelsea, Freddy, Nakoa and Kellen at dinner this evening. Jenediy[sp] and Jennifer don't arrive until 10 so we go out without them for a group dinner.
We all walk down state street and decide on an Italian place. The conversation is tame, compared to the rest of the week. Freddy tells a bunch of silly stories and so the jokes start. Making fun of him. He said 'i don't know why, but girls keep giving me things' or silly things like that. After dinner Frank goes back to the hotel and our group continues down State St. where we just look around. Some of us buy some very tasty gellato from a local place. We keep on down the hill, eying places to check out later. I see a hat place called 'The Stuffed Feather' and decide to go there the next day.
We all walk all the way down the hill before some of us go back to the hotel. The boys, Nakoa and Freddy, keep walking around and find a bar eventually, apparently, from what they tell us later. Janelle and I chat a bit before going to sleep.
Sunday, June 22.
I wake sometime mid morning. I hang in the hotel for a while, until I'm too hungry to not wander, and eventually leave, heading down State St. where I go to the hat place. I buy my awesome new corduroy cap then head to the Noodle Company for lunch. I think now I wander back to the hotel so I can register for the week and get my name tag and program. Originally I'm not on the list for my field trip, so I get that sorted out. I then hang out in the lobby before the unndergrads and their mentors all meet up. Here there's a preliminry introduction to the rest of the mentors. I meet both Scotts there, Rebecca, Ken, Jacoby, and Alani. Ralph is late, I forget why.
Our big ole group heads to the Great Dane for dinner. The food is fantastic. I buy a chicken pot pie. Mmm, tasty. I spend the evening chatting with one of the Scotts, not registering there are two of them. I think I make and interesting impression on Scott L. who ends up being one of my favorite people to chat with for the entire week. Also at my table are Nakoa, Ken, Frank, Chelsea, and Jenediay. There was another man there, but I'm not sure who. The conversation goes from out ages to our interests. It's loose and fun.
After dinner the mentors roll out, and use undergrads walk down State St. to the University of Wisconsin-Madison campus is. Their student center sells beer. I drink some horrible weak miller light then decide I'm really not a beer person. Freddy tries to give me crap about it, but I defend my point that I think beer tastes horrible, and that I like real alcohol, liquor and such. We all walk back because we have an early morning.
Back in the hotel Janelle and I end up staying up for a time on out computers. Janelle is apparently having a fight with her boyfriend and stays up until 4. We're supposed to go to the plenary session in the morning. I try to sleep, and do succeed for the most part, sleeping until I need to get ready.
----
Ooh, so much writing for only two days. I'll continue on my play-by-play of the week after sleeping seeing as how I have things I need to do in the morning and would like sleep myself. Next post, Monday and the plenary session until...Tuesday or Wednesday I presume. It depends on when I start writing. Geez, this post is so epically long.
Jasmine P.
June 29, 2009
Crossroads: Built to Help, Only Impede
I was originally going to do a write up of the past week I spent in Wisconsin, but this seemed to be a bit more pertinent. I still want to write up about the week before I forget. That's why Twitter's nice, I wrote some stuff up there most days, so I can review it and remind myself what I did and what to write about. But for now, less about last week and more about me.
I've in a funk, again. I don't know what to do to break it. I've spent the past few days since returning to Norfolk watching Wonderfalls and Pushing Daisies, which I guess I can include in my review blog. But not right now. I'm at that annoying impasse where I don't know what I want to do. Not with my education and not with tomorrow. I can't draw, so write I must.
I've recently fallen in love with writing things by hand. I hand wrote a note to a woman from New York, more to be expounded upon in the SWS/Wisconsin journal. But I kind of want to write more people letters. One to Scott, another to Ralph...that's it. Yeah, so two letters. There's the personal touch of recieving mail, and writing them. They take time, and even once the idea is written, there's writing a presentable form of the letter.
Well, let's start somewhere. Is It Okay If I Call You Mine? written and sung by Paul McCrane. Ironic time to play this song. This is kind of how I feel about Paul, but also at the moment, men in general. Kind of. I mean, first there is my interest in someone who hasn't called me back. I fear his phone is lost or something. Then there's Phillip, who's interest in my was professed by two other people in drunken stupor. I doubt they remember telling me this, but a large part of me doesn't want to inquire about it, but if someone cares, why not try for something. Then there's Beau, and that one I assume is all in my head. He's a cutie, and I could have sworn just last week when I friended him on facebook he was in a relationship with someone, but that's beside the point. Interest in him came from his drunken excitement in seeing me. Yeah, prefixed by drunken, so who knows. I have also decided that the actors Lee Pace and Tyrone Lietso. Bt incrredible cute and adorable. I see Paul is Pace's performace from PD, which makes me think he's still quite in the running for my heart for things more serous, but at the same time, I haven't seen the man/boy in a month! A month! He hasn't answered his phone or anything. I'm sitting in the middle of a road of attention, attraction and affection [alliterative a...] and not a peep. I tied calling about thirty minutes ago. Maybe he'll call. I hope so. Hell, I want the simplicity of a kiss. I want and crave contact. So many people, so close and yet oh so terribly far.
Like aways, I know what I want, but differently, I have potential venues, but won't go for any of them. I was fine, when I almost had someone, now? Ha! I'm back to just plain needing someone. I need something to guide my attention, to help motivate me. For whatever reason I've actually made the Fourth of July into something important and want someone to spend the night with. I normally couldn't give a rat's ass for the damn day, but apparently in my vulnerable state I want someone. Last week I was distracted, as with the week before, but now, it's me and only me.
This is an island that sucks. Maybe someone will actually call. The Ficus might, but that's not as pressing to me as pretty much anyone else calling. I want attention. I want to be loved. I want to be romantically loved. Hell, I know plenty of people on this stupid orb love me, platonically, but I want a romantic relationship. Pining, I'm pining away for most anything.
Aside from my heart, I was feeling a change of pace for a short period f time and going back to science for a degree, but now I'm feeling art again. I'm also feeling not earning a degree and just striking out on my own. Dorien and Miguel keep saying how hard it is, but they haven't done that. They both almost got away, then went crawling back home. I'm not doing that. Love or not, I'm getting out of this crummy state. I'm getting away where all the disturbed girls are. My papa never put his ping-ping in my po-po, but there is something rotten in the Denver of Virginia. And the Denmark too.
Apparenlty, I've stopping caring about who might stumble upon this piece of privacy, and that's well enough. It's here for someone to read, and not just for me to write. I dunno, maybe I'll escape the easiest way I know how, into the tombs of a new book. Well, new, old, re-read, or something I left to be enjoyed at a later date. I dunno, maybe I'm a little inspired from eading the writings of Jonathan Ames who had his writings published, and they were of a varying private nature, personal if nothing else. Maybe it's better to toss life out to the void of it's reality and see who stops and inspects. Maybe something good will come out of it. With my luck, nothing will, but that's also just as well. I always want someone to read these, but at the same time, I seriously want no one to read them.
Jasmine P.
I've in a funk, again. I don't know what to do to break it. I've spent the past few days since returning to Norfolk watching Wonderfalls and Pushing Daisies, which I guess I can include in my review blog. But not right now. I'm at that annoying impasse where I don't know what I want to do. Not with my education and not with tomorrow. I can't draw, so write I must.
I've recently fallen in love with writing things by hand. I hand wrote a note to a woman from New York, more to be expounded upon in the SWS/Wisconsin journal. But I kind of want to write more people letters. One to Scott, another to Ralph...that's it. Yeah, so two letters. There's the personal touch of recieving mail, and writing them. They take time, and even once the idea is written, there's writing a presentable form of the letter.
Well, let's start somewhere. Is It Okay If I Call You Mine? written and sung by Paul McCrane. Ironic time to play this song. This is kind of how I feel about Paul, but also at the moment, men in general. Kind of. I mean, first there is my interest in someone who hasn't called me back. I fear his phone is lost or something. Then there's Phillip, who's interest in my was professed by two other people in drunken stupor. I doubt they remember telling me this, but a large part of me doesn't want to inquire about it, but if someone cares, why not try for something. Then there's Beau, and that one I assume is all in my head. He's a cutie, and I could have sworn just last week when I friended him on facebook he was in a relationship with someone, but that's beside the point. Interest in him came from his drunken excitement in seeing me. Yeah, prefixed by drunken, so who knows. I have also decided that the actors Lee Pace and Tyrone Lietso. Bt incrredible cute and adorable. I see Paul is Pace's performace from PD, which makes me think he's still quite in the running for my heart for things more serous, but at the same time, I haven't seen the man/boy in a month! A month! He hasn't answered his phone or anything. I'm sitting in the middle of a road of attention, attraction and affection [alliterative a...] and not a peep. I tied calling about thirty minutes ago. Maybe he'll call. I hope so. Hell, I want the simplicity of a kiss. I want and crave contact. So many people, so close and yet oh so terribly far.
Like aways, I know what I want, but differently, I have potential venues, but won't go for any of them. I was fine, when I almost had someone, now? Ha! I'm back to just plain needing someone. I need something to guide my attention, to help motivate me. For whatever reason I've actually made the Fourth of July into something important and want someone to spend the night with. I normally couldn't give a rat's ass for the damn day, but apparently in my vulnerable state I want someone. Last week I was distracted, as with the week before, but now, it's me and only me.
This is an island that sucks. Maybe someone will actually call. The Ficus might, but that's not as pressing to me as pretty much anyone else calling. I want attention. I want to be loved. I want to be romantically loved. Hell, I know plenty of people on this stupid orb love me, platonically, but I want a romantic relationship. Pining, I'm pining away for most anything.
Aside from my heart, I was feeling a change of pace for a short period f time and going back to science for a degree, but now I'm feeling art again. I'm also feeling not earning a degree and just striking out on my own. Dorien and Miguel keep saying how hard it is, but they haven't done that. They both almost got away, then went crawling back home. I'm not doing that. Love or not, I'm getting out of this crummy state. I'm getting away where all the disturbed girls are. My papa never put his ping-ping in my po-po, but there is something rotten in the Denver of Virginia. And the Denmark too.
Apparenlty, I've stopping caring about who might stumble upon this piece of privacy, and that's well enough. It's here for someone to read, and not just for me to write. I dunno, maybe I'll escape the easiest way I know how, into the tombs of a new book. Well, new, old, re-read, or something I left to be enjoyed at a later date. I dunno, maybe I'm a little inspired from eading the writings of Jonathan Ames who had his writings published, and they were of a varying private nature, personal if nothing else. Maybe it's better to toss life out to the void of it's reality and see who stops and inspects. Maybe something good will come out of it. With my luck, nothing will, but that's also just as well. I always want someone to read these, but at the same time, I seriously want no one to read them.
Jasmine P.
May 10, 2009
Holidays Love Misery
Hello all! Here's another installment of my observations f the world around me and my questioning the motivations for what I see. I consider this to be a 'proper' journal for my to be writing because my day to day life isn't interesting enough for me to want to write about anyway. Hell, I think my last journal was on how nothnig was going on, but I was vaguely compelled to write anyway.
But first! A quick flash back to something I think I wrote back around Easter: [blank] I have no idea where that rant went...I remember writing somewhere about how I had no use for holiday's. I could have sword it was written on/around Easter, but I can't find anything about it. It may have been written in February about the lack there of of press for Black History Month.
I totally forgot my point after reading my first 6 journals here. They were terrible, no description of anything. I was keeping secrets from myself at times, and now, I post waaaay too much information. Cheers!
So, onto holidays. It might just be me, but it seems like the world over, retail over, people don't seem to be taking as much of a vested intereste din selling a holiday anymore. Not so much as when I was a kid. I'm not complaing so much as commentating. It's just that I walk into a Wal-Greens and there's barely anything they're trying to pimp for Mother's Day. What little television I've watched recently there've been very few commercials for this day either. It's almost as if the world doesn't care about holidays too much anymore. Well, some of them. I was in the mall, true, I was only up by the movie theater, but still, not much trying to pimp last minute gifts, which is what any mall is all about. I know times have changed, but...
On love.
This was originally going to be about holiday's and misery, but after I wrote that title, I knew I could write this and it would work out awesomely. Plus, that title wins.
Last night I went out on a date with Paul. I guess it was supposed to be a date, neither of us said that, and I've never been on a date, but I think that's what it all wrapped up to be. We went out and saw the new Star Trek movie, and I've never been a Trek fan, but this movie was pretty entertaining. I'd almost be interested in watching the show. If nothing else, I'll check out some of the other ST flicks, and maybe some of the future ones. I wasn't too into it until Kirk got into space. Too amused by the fact that he got his ass kicked thrice in the movie. Sometimes it's the little things that make me laugh, but it was one gorgeous piece of celluloid. I'll tell you what.
Ahem, the date. He paid for the movie, for the snacks and picked me up for it. We chatted prior to and after the movie. Still awkward saying goodbye, and he said he'd call today, which means tomorrow if I'm lucky, haha. Chances are we'll chat soon enough, and do something else together. Still, it makes me happy to think about him. Also, it's sad that this amuses me as much as it does, but after he commented on how scarcastic I am, I stopped being as scarcastic to him, but last night I had to! For Monsters vs Aliens there are these bins to collect the 3-D glasses after the movie. It says it alll around the box like, twenty times. He has to look inside the box. I had to laugh with him about it. it wasn't mean spirited, but it was funny. The box said that's where the glasses went, but he had to open it. My type of person, looking anyway. I didn't expect it to be full, but I also wasn't compelled to look. It was fun. Truely.
Now onto the misery =D
The following comments, long sentences, if you will, are partially to blame for this rant being ranted here, but c'est la vie :/
-The MB is such a cunt. I woke up and walked around the kitchen, there was a damp dirty sock on the towel where i dry my dishes. Why? Idk!!
-We're also the only people in the apt, and there were plenty of other counter space for her disgusting unsanitary sock. Fucking cunt.
-Why would misery want the company of one they disliked. MB might have to stand for miserable bitch, because she's that, and seems to cont.
-Want to bring me down to her unhappy level too. I've bothered nothing of hers, but she has this compulsion to mess with my possessions. Sad.
Those four tweets , and actually that final one, made her actions make sense to me. She's miserable, and I'm not. So fucking what i took back my own paper towels. Go buy your own. I don't have to share anything of mine with you. I haven't touched a damn thing of hers for personal gain other than moving it out of my way so I could go about my business. Time and time again I've seen my food go missing, an abnormal amount of my cleaning supplies gone and used, and my things moved. It's sad that it took me all year to realize she's just a miserable cunt whose bothered by my happiness. Anytime I'm happy she goes out of her way to make me unhappy. Hell, she usually looks haggered and unhappy when I see her, no matter what she's doing. I know I've walked past her and I looked happy. Not trying to look happy, but I was in a much better mood than she is.
My opinion is she's also a miserable little frig because she left her home the day before Mother's Day, when her mother is alive and I assume well. People with mother's take them for granted. I don't understand why she's not home expressing her love for her mother. I'm going to be out in Wisconsin for Father's Day, I loath my father, but I can be civil enough to call him while I'm there. Maybe I'll draw him a picture. That's not a terrible idea. But back to the Miserable Cunt or Midget Bitch because she's both. I've wasted more time this year dealing with my issues with her but it's only right that I finish it up. She's just in unhappy soul, it's almost as if she doesn't know how to be happy and I think my relaxed or passe or cheerful demeanor frighten her, so she retaliates with hatred. I'm also in a much happier place so I can see this. I will hold it against her because I've done nothing to her, and I will keep my things to myself because I don't need her contempt making me unhappy. Happiness is a wonderful weapon sometimes.
Jasmine P.
But first! A quick flash back to something I think I wrote back around Easter: [blank] I have no idea where that rant went...I remember writing somewhere about how I had no use for holiday's. I could have sword it was written on/around Easter, but I can't find anything about it. It may have been written in February about the lack there of of press for Black History Month.
I totally forgot my point after reading my first 6 journals here. They were terrible, no description of anything. I was keeping secrets from myself at times, and now, I post waaaay too much information. Cheers!
So, onto holidays. It might just be me, but it seems like the world over, retail over, people don't seem to be taking as much of a vested intereste din selling a holiday anymore. Not so much as when I was a kid. I'm not complaing so much as commentating. It's just that I walk into a Wal-Greens and there's barely anything they're trying to pimp for Mother's Day. What little television I've watched recently there've been very few commercials for this day either. It's almost as if the world doesn't care about holidays too much anymore. Well, some of them. I was in the mall, true, I was only up by the movie theater, but still, not much trying to pimp last minute gifts, which is what any mall is all about. I know times have changed, but...
On love.
This was originally going to be about holiday's and misery, but after I wrote that title, I knew I could write this and it would work out awesomely. Plus, that title wins.
Last night I went out on a date with Paul. I guess it was supposed to be a date, neither of us said that, and I've never been on a date, but I think that's what it all wrapped up to be. We went out and saw the new Star Trek movie, and I've never been a Trek fan, but this movie was pretty entertaining. I'd almost be interested in watching the show. If nothing else, I'll check out some of the other ST flicks, and maybe some of the future ones. I wasn't too into it until Kirk got into space. Too amused by the fact that he got his ass kicked thrice in the movie. Sometimes it's the little things that make me laugh, but it was one gorgeous piece of celluloid. I'll tell you what.
Ahem, the date. He paid for the movie, for the snacks and picked me up for it. We chatted prior to and after the movie. Still awkward saying goodbye, and he said he'd call today, which means tomorrow if I'm lucky, haha. Chances are we'll chat soon enough, and do something else together. Still, it makes me happy to think about him. Also, it's sad that this amuses me as much as it does, but after he commented on how scarcastic I am, I stopped being as scarcastic to him, but last night I had to! For Monsters vs Aliens there are these bins to collect the 3-D glasses after the movie. It says it alll around the box like, twenty times. He has to look inside the box. I had to laugh with him about it. it wasn't mean spirited, but it was funny. The box said that's where the glasses went, but he had to open it. My type of person, looking anyway. I didn't expect it to be full, but I also wasn't compelled to look. It was fun. Truely.
Now onto the misery =D
The following comments, long sentences, if you will, are partially to blame for this rant being ranted here, but c'est la vie :/
-The MB is such a cunt. I woke up and walked around the kitchen, there was a damp dirty sock on the towel where i dry my dishes. Why? Idk!!
-We're also the only people in the apt, and there were plenty of other counter space for her disgusting unsanitary sock. Fucking cunt.
-Why would misery want the company of one they disliked. MB might have to stand for miserable bitch, because she's that, and seems to cont.
-Want to bring me down to her unhappy level too. I've bothered nothing of hers, but she has this compulsion to mess with my possessions. Sad.
Those four tweets , and actually that final one, made her actions make sense to me. She's miserable, and I'm not. So fucking what i took back my own paper towels. Go buy your own. I don't have to share anything of mine with you. I haven't touched a damn thing of hers for personal gain other than moving it out of my way so I could go about my business. Time and time again I've seen my food go missing, an abnormal amount of my cleaning supplies gone and used, and my things moved. It's sad that it took me all year to realize she's just a miserable cunt whose bothered by my happiness. Anytime I'm happy she goes out of her way to make me unhappy. Hell, she usually looks haggered and unhappy when I see her, no matter what she's doing. I know I've walked past her and I looked happy. Not trying to look happy, but I was in a much better mood than she is.
My opinion is she's also a miserable little frig because she left her home the day before Mother's Day, when her mother is alive and I assume well. People with mother's take them for granted. I don't understand why she's not home expressing her love for her mother. I'm going to be out in Wisconsin for Father's Day, I loath my father, but I can be civil enough to call him while I'm there. Maybe I'll draw him a picture. That's not a terrible idea. But back to the Miserable Cunt or Midget Bitch because she's both. I've wasted more time this year dealing with my issues with her but it's only right that I finish it up. She's just in unhappy soul, it's almost as if she doesn't know how to be happy and I think my relaxed or passe or cheerful demeanor frighten her, so she retaliates with hatred. I'm also in a much happier place so I can see this. I will hold it against her because I've done nothing to her, and I will keep my things to myself because I don't need her contempt making me unhappy. Happiness is a wonderful weapon sometimes.
Jasmine P.
April 3, 2009
100 and Epic
So, this is my 100th journal, and do I have a lot of things to say. I seriously don't have the time right now to write, but here are some bullets that will give you a small taste of what's to come, and it will remind me off the many things I'd like to cover.
Well, this has taken me so long to get around to writing, that it has ended up being more more epic recant of my past week, for the most part. So, here we go, after putting it all off, let's get this ball rolling.
On Sunday I got a text message from Glenn asking someone to go to some meeting that Rec Sports is having on Monday. I think nothing of it, and say I can go. Monday rolls around and I'm so bone tired I fall asleep in three of my four classes, and I don't think my teacher's really noticed. I do my usual of hitting up the apartment to get my things for my afternoon math class because the meeting is 3-4 and that class starts at 4:20. I get into the meeting a few minutes late after reading more pages of 'My Uncomfortably Boring-Ass Life'. I walk past a small group of students and think nothing of it. Inside the meeting room Dr. Holt and some other people from the Rec Sports President's meetings that I've been to once a month are there and we're finally told that this is an appeals council.
Over Spring Break, Mar 9-13 our Crew club broke some rules and allowed a suspended member of the team to go on the trip, have an under age kid drive a rented truck, and another kid who hadn't passed the swim test to get into a boat on the water. It's a country and probably world wide rule that you need to pass a swim test which is swimming a few laps and treading water, before being allowed into a boat. These kids we were seeing on Monday were regular members of the club, not officers, but this is also the first I'd heard of anything so I was eventually filled in on what had happened back in October.
In October, it got back to ODU that members of the crew team were rowing without lights on their boats, and with many people who hadn't passed their swim test. Last semester's president and vice president were suspended and barred from ever holding an office at ODU ever. So this is some heavy shit that the same club has come back under fire so soon for some more stupid shit. We eventually decide that these kids lift their suspension for the rest of the semester, so only 4 weeks, and I think we gave them a probation for this coming fall semester, so if they're in the rowing club and some shit goes down that they're a part of, their infractions from this semester could cause them to have a more severe punishment. So Monday's meeting ended and we dispersed. The punishment isn't read to them until the following day because we ran out of time on Monday. For the sake of the story, I'll continue onto Tuesday's proceedings.
On Tuesday during Activity Hour we see one more member, hand down the same punishment, from the previous group. He had a class and was unable to make the initial meeting. We see the officers on Tuesday and we start from the club secretary who has failed her swim test and prior to the suspensions being handed out, was told by the other officers she was not allowed to participate because she had failed her swim test. But she was still on the water and in trouble when Rec Sports handed out their suspensions, this was an appeals process because these students didn't seem apologetic for putting ODU into a bad public light and giving their club the biggest black mark damn near available, well, given it's a student run organization, their idiocy was supreme. This girl knew about two days prior that the suspended president from the fall was going on the trip and did nothing to prevent him from coming. Her punishment was upholding her suspension and putting her on probation until December 2009. She also has the special requirement for completing all club paperwork and having to complete a swim test before being allowed to do anything really with the club.
The club Treasurer found out the ex-pres was going on their training trip when he was going over who had paid, so he knew only a few days prior to the trip. His punishment was just upholding his suspension and a fall semester probation. The VP knew the ex pres was going a full week before the trip. He accepted the President's [faulty] decision to allow this other kid to go because he knew more than what the current members did. His punishment was the same as the treasurer, but i think there was one other thing.
The President was the ring leader of this little charade. She decided on her own to allow this suspended kid to go on the trip because she figured he could help an outside coach at the place they were headed as a second pair of eyes. This coach they were going to has had some Olympic training, and a slew of other credentials, but this current president figured it wasn't enough and brought a suspended kid, who had been 'rowing in his own boat at the same time and same location as the club boats' on the trip. The suspended kid also drove a rented vehicle, and you can't drive rented vehicles until 21, he was 19. He was a liability issue, and she fucked with the honor code. That's all some pretty serious shit. Our pronouncement for her was she's not allowed to be an officer in that club ever again. She is suspended the rest of this academic year, and on probation until this December. We decided not to send her to the Honor Council, but Rec Sports still has the ability to have her referred to them because they went around the heads of their own department for a few reasons. They went to the Dean of Students to be allowed on this trip, they tried to get sent to a different department of ODU because they thought the black marks from the fall would be erased, but learned that is not the case. She also allowed the suspended kid, only 19, to drive the rented vehicle full of club equipment, and if there had been an accident, they would have fucked with some other Dead at ODU because he paid for the truck rental with his own card. So they were all sorts of wrong.
This all taught me, and the fencing club, who i recounted these tales of crime and punishment to quite promptly at practice Tuesday evening, to a) don't do stupid shit to go up in front of the council in the first place. b) make sure there's no photo evidence. c) just plain don't do it, it's stupid dangerous bullshit.
------
To round out Monday, I decided I've been spending too much time on my computer and not just reading, so I take my time and read more of Kevin Smith's second book, My Uncomfortably Boring Ass Life until House Starts. Monday's House was interesting since the perspective was from inside the patient's head. Not hearing the differentials nor the character interaction, aside from how they acted at the bedside, was different. Then, right when House was going to drop some science and finally declare what the disease, my Glenn finally calls. I'd sent him a vague text message talking a bit about the meeting, but he doesn't have the chance to call me until then, when I miss House saving the same. Boo. I rounded out my evening reading until ten-thirty then decide 'fuck it, i need sleep' and hit the bed early.
---
Tuesday, Mar 31
---
I sleep until 9:30 which is sweet. I get sidetracked by the internet, and don't go to my geology class. I go the part 2 of the epic meeting of drama and punishment then head over the hospital to have all my joyful stitches removed from two, three weeks now, ago from my surgery on the 12th.
I get there and when I check in my appointment has disappeared from the books. What happened is when I went in the week after my surgery because I was worried about how I was healing and in pain that I needed more percocet my real appointment for my stitches to be removed was erased. I got to sit around for about 45minutes, so I read, waiting for my name to be called. Finally, as I'm getting really bored with just waiting, and wanting to go to sleep, and I'm incredibly hungry at this point having not eaten anything all day, I get called. Dr Reed removes the stitches and seriously, one stitch from each set, under each arm, and on his side of my groin, hurt like all hell. I was good about not flinching, but it hurt.
I giggle to more SMod while I hit up WalGreens for more gauze, bandages and some candy. Snacks in tow, I get back to campus and eat my other piece of sirloin I made on Sunday. The mirowave is apparently broken, so I heat my food in the oven, just waiting to eat. I haven't eaten since the previous evening, so this was like, epic hunger. I read a bit more before practice then walk to the gym to hang with the fencers and tell them about everything with the rowing club and their terrible faux pas, but I seem to be the only one to understand the brevity of the situation. Yeah, it wasn't us, but if it ever is, it's highly awkward, and embarassing because the majority of the college campus totally knew about it, the suspensions. I'd rather not have people know that shit happened to us if it did. We're still working at making a good name for ourselves before we go and make a bad one.
I'm feeling hungry, so I hit up IHOP with Nicole, Andrew and Nick. The four of us get out awesome waitress from when the Ficus and I were at IHOP over Spring Break. She was just as snarky, so just as much fun to have.
---
Wednesday
---
Wednesday is a painful day. I'm just getting used to not having the stitches, so every gat damned motion hurts, again, but now because grativy is taking it's toll on my aching flesh. I go to class on perc because I decide I won't do it without the painkillers. This is a day I decide I need them and by dammit, I have them. I make it through english, they start to kick in at Borjo where I just get sluggish. Not really tired, I'm just not really responsive. I get through the time, then I have a happy fun-time test in Logic. Fucking sucks. I blast through it in bout 30 min, then sit in psych early. Today we learn about Levinson's theory of adult develpment which follows the importance of having a dream. There's also Super, and some third dude, but the third dude is one I find intriguing because back in 2007 i think, I wrote a journal about me andanalysing myself and my career options. This makes me want to write, so I curse that I need to get off campus because the following day is my sister's birthday, and I had yet to buy her a gift.
Post Psych class, I run off campus and by my sister a 20$ gift card to gamestop, and this awesome card that's like a banner. I decide I have the time, so I hit up Local Heroes and buy a few new trades, Empowered and Kev Smith's first Green Arrow trade. I wanted to get Joe Quesada's book that had to do with his interaction with Hollywood, but that book was $35, and I was also spending 30 on two trades. I was also going to grab Frank Miller's second Daredevil since I'd read the first trade last year, but had to hold off because that was another $20, and i needed to save a little.
Get back to campus, go to math and dose midway through the class. I also doodle me in the Invader Zim style on something I have to turn in, thinking it's my personal notes. We're having a homework test on Monday, maybe I'll actually do my work for this one....maybe. Won't hurt my grade. After class I decide I don't want another cafeteria meal, so I call Za and Nicole and we hit up La Herradura. Well, it's me and Nicole because Za's apparently not feeling too well. Dinner was good, I got some burritos. It was all awesome until paying because our friggin' waitress left us sitting for at least 30 min before picking up the tab. What the hell? Bad tip because of that.
Nicole asks me to be a part of a little stidy for her english class. All I have to do is take a fish oil pill every day for two weeks, and a prelim quiz and another in two weeks. It was easy enough, aside from the sudoku, and one or two questions, I believe i got everything else correct. It was just a tedious hour.
I head back to the apatment, play on the internet for an hour then go to bed deciding I need sleep.
---
Thuesday
---
I get up today and end up wasting a whole mess of time because my roommate's 9:30 has been canceled. I would have taken an early shower and lounged around until my 11:00 class, I end up waiting. Shower's don't take forever, it's drying enough that tape will stick to me so my bandages actually work for the following ~24 hours. I BS some more then go to class, and get there late. I'm also busy trying to get some stuff together, I mail my sister's gift, so she should get it tomorrow, I hope. Hmm, I'm bored in geology then I print out some stuff during Activity Hour before hitting up Del Vich's for two slices of cheese pizza. I carry them to yhe geology building because I have class at 1:30 and it's after 1 as is. I listen to SMod 52 while eating before my class.
Lab is mad easy, then I go off campus...why....I remember. I rented Slacker, Sold Out a Threevening With Kevin Smith and The Lords of Dog Town from the Naro for the weekend. Get back to campus and decide to spend some flex points before the semester is out on some ice cream and some vitamin water from Whitehurst. I run into Za and Josh, her boyfriend before getting back to the apt. We three chat for a time, then I watch Slacker. I end up dosing while watching the movie, so I back track and re-watch half the movie while I made some frankfurters for dinner, and some fries. I'm mildly annoyed because I have no ketchup because, I assume, the MB used it, the cunt. I use hot water to warm up from nacho cheese and eat that on my franks and the fries I'd made. it works out well enough, but not the same as that awesome tomato-y sauce of delicious.
Hit the internet until practice. I'm very uninspired and melancholy at practice tonight and just sit on the side barely watching people practice. It's annoying a little because I've corrected and explained so many times, but there were things that they still do wrong. In my mild depression I decide Reel Big Fish is the band for me, and start off wtih Drunk Again, which I mouth along to twice. I then just let my player play RBF for the next twenty minutes and after locking up the studio and returning the key I just leave. I say 'good bye' but no one seems to notice, which is well enough considering my mood. I spend an hour and a half writing this and feel better, before deciding to go to bed early and write my stupid psych thing in the morning.
My Dream thing will be written later. I want sleep now, and some drugs. Sleep and pills. Tis a sad life I lead.
----
Inspired by current topics in Psych class, talk about having a 'dream' and what my current dream is.
----
enjoy the peek of what i've been wanting to write for days but haven't had the time to
Jasmine P.
---
So, it's all finally been written. I do feel better and ...well, nothing really important for this 'and' but this was written, and now it's also all been put to rest. Just the dream thing, and that I might be fine with not elaborating on. I also feel better since I've jsut plain needed to write.
Well, this has taken me so long to get around to writing, that it has ended up being more more epic recant of my past week, for the most part. So, here we go, after putting it all off, let's get this ball rolling.
On Sunday I got a text message from Glenn asking someone to go to some meeting that Rec Sports is having on Monday. I think nothing of it, and say I can go. Monday rolls around and I'm so bone tired I fall asleep in three of my four classes, and I don't think my teacher's really noticed. I do my usual of hitting up the apartment to get my things for my afternoon math class because the meeting is 3-4 and that class starts at 4:20. I get into the meeting a few minutes late after reading more pages of 'My Uncomfortably Boring-Ass Life'. I walk past a small group of students and think nothing of it. Inside the meeting room Dr. Holt and some other people from the Rec Sports President's meetings that I've been to once a month are there and we're finally told that this is an appeals council.
Over Spring Break, Mar 9-13 our Crew club broke some rules and allowed a suspended member of the team to go on the trip, have an under age kid drive a rented truck, and another kid who hadn't passed the swim test to get into a boat on the water. It's a country and probably world wide rule that you need to pass a swim test which is swimming a few laps and treading water, before being allowed into a boat. These kids we were seeing on Monday were regular members of the club, not officers, but this is also the first I'd heard of anything so I was eventually filled in on what had happened back in October.
In October, it got back to ODU that members of the crew team were rowing without lights on their boats, and with many people who hadn't passed their swim test. Last semester's president and vice president were suspended and barred from ever holding an office at ODU ever. So this is some heavy shit that the same club has come back under fire so soon for some more stupid shit. We eventually decide that these kids lift their suspension for the rest of the semester, so only 4 weeks, and I think we gave them a probation for this coming fall semester, so if they're in the rowing club and some shit goes down that they're a part of, their infractions from this semester could cause them to have a more severe punishment. So Monday's meeting ended and we dispersed. The punishment isn't read to them until the following day because we ran out of time on Monday. For the sake of the story, I'll continue onto Tuesday's proceedings.
On Tuesday during Activity Hour we see one more member, hand down the same punishment, from the previous group. He had a class and was unable to make the initial meeting. We see the officers on Tuesday and we start from the club secretary who has failed her swim test and prior to the suspensions being handed out, was told by the other officers she was not allowed to participate because she had failed her swim test. But she was still on the water and in trouble when Rec Sports handed out their suspensions, this was an appeals process because these students didn't seem apologetic for putting ODU into a bad public light and giving their club the biggest black mark damn near available, well, given it's a student run organization, their idiocy was supreme. This girl knew about two days prior that the suspended president from the fall was going on the trip and did nothing to prevent him from coming. Her punishment was upholding her suspension and putting her on probation until December 2009. She also has the special requirement for completing all club paperwork and having to complete a swim test before being allowed to do anything really with the club.
The club Treasurer found out the ex-pres was going on their training trip when he was going over who had paid, so he knew only a few days prior to the trip. His punishment was just upholding his suspension and a fall semester probation. The VP knew the ex pres was going a full week before the trip. He accepted the President's [faulty] decision to allow this other kid to go because he knew more than what the current members did. His punishment was the same as the treasurer, but i think there was one other thing.
The President was the ring leader of this little charade. She decided on her own to allow this suspended kid to go on the trip because she figured he could help an outside coach at the place they were headed as a second pair of eyes. This coach they were going to has had some Olympic training, and a slew of other credentials, but this current president figured it wasn't enough and brought a suspended kid, who had been 'rowing in his own boat at the same time and same location as the club boats' on the trip. The suspended kid also drove a rented vehicle, and you can't drive rented vehicles until 21, he was 19. He was a liability issue, and she fucked with the honor code. That's all some pretty serious shit. Our pronouncement for her was she's not allowed to be an officer in that club ever again. She is suspended the rest of this academic year, and on probation until this December. We decided not to send her to the Honor Council, but Rec Sports still has the ability to have her referred to them because they went around the heads of their own department for a few reasons. They went to the Dean of Students to be allowed on this trip, they tried to get sent to a different department of ODU because they thought the black marks from the fall would be erased, but learned that is not the case. She also allowed the suspended kid, only 19, to drive the rented vehicle full of club equipment, and if there had been an accident, they would have fucked with some other Dead at ODU because he paid for the truck rental with his own card. So they were all sorts of wrong.
This all taught me, and the fencing club, who i recounted these tales of crime and punishment to quite promptly at practice Tuesday evening, to a) don't do stupid shit to go up in front of the council in the first place. b) make sure there's no photo evidence. c) just plain don't do it, it's stupid dangerous bullshit.
------
To round out Monday, I decided I've been spending too much time on my computer and not just reading, so I take my time and read more of Kevin Smith's second book, My Uncomfortably Boring Ass Life until House Starts. Monday's House was interesting since the perspective was from inside the patient's head. Not hearing the differentials nor the character interaction, aside from how they acted at the bedside, was different. Then, right when House was going to drop some science and finally declare what the disease, my Glenn finally calls. I'd sent him a vague text message talking a bit about the meeting, but he doesn't have the chance to call me until then, when I miss House saving the same. Boo. I rounded out my evening reading until ten-thirty then decide 'fuck it, i need sleep' and hit the bed early.
---
Tuesday, Mar 31
---
I sleep until 9:30 which is sweet. I get sidetracked by the internet, and don't go to my geology class. I go the part 2 of the epic meeting of drama and punishment then head over the hospital to have all my joyful stitches removed from two, three weeks now, ago from my surgery on the 12th.
I get there and when I check in my appointment has disappeared from the books. What happened is when I went in the week after my surgery because I was worried about how I was healing and in pain that I needed more percocet my real appointment for my stitches to be removed was erased. I got to sit around for about 45minutes, so I read, waiting for my name to be called. Finally, as I'm getting really bored with just waiting, and wanting to go to sleep, and I'm incredibly hungry at this point having not eaten anything all day, I get called. Dr Reed removes the stitches and seriously, one stitch from each set, under each arm, and on his side of my groin, hurt like all hell. I was good about not flinching, but it hurt.
I giggle to more SMod while I hit up WalGreens for more gauze, bandages and some candy. Snacks in tow, I get back to campus and eat my other piece of sirloin I made on Sunday. The mirowave is apparently broken, so I heat my food in the oven, just waiting to eat. I haven't eaten since the previous evening, so this was like, epic hunger. I read a bit more before practice then walk to the gym to hang with the fencers and tell them about everything with the rowing club and their terrible faux pas, but I seem to be the only one to understand the brevity of the situation. Yeah, it wasn't us, but if it ever is, it's highly awkward, and embarassing because the majority of the college campus totally knew about it, the suspensions. I'd rather not have people know that shit happened to us if it did. We're still working at making a good name for ourselves before we go and make a bad one.
I'm feeling hungry, so I hit up IHOP with Nicole, Andrew and Nick. The four of us get out awesome waitress from when the Ficus and I were at IHOP over Spring Break. She was just as snarky, so just as much fun to have.
---
Wednesday
---
Wednesday is a painful day. I'm just getting used to not having the stitches, so every gat damned motion hurts, again, but now because grativy is taking it's toll on my aching flesh. I go to class on perc because I decide I won't do it without the painkillers. This is a day I decide I need them and by dammit, I have them. I make it through english, they start to kick in at Borjo where I just get sluggish. Not really tired, I'm just not really responsive. I get through the time, then I have a happy fun-time test in Logic. Fucking sucks. I blast through it in bout 30 min, then sit in psych early. Today we learn about Levinson's theory of adult develpment which follows the importance of having a dream. There's also Super, and some third dude, but the third dude is one I find intriguing because back in 2007 i think, I wrote a journal about me andanalysing myself and my career options. This makes me want to write, so I curse that I need to get off campus because the following day is my sister's birthday, and I had yet to buy her a gift.
Post Psych class, I run off campus and by my sister a 20$ gift card to gamestop, and this awesome card that's like a banner. I decide I have the time, so I hit up Local Heroes and buy a few new trades, Empowered and Kev Smith's first Green Arrow trade. I wanted to get Joe Quesada's book that had to do with his interaction with Hollywood, but that book was $35, and I was also spending 30 on two trades. I was also going to grab Frank Miller's second Daredevil since I'd read the first trade last year, but had to hold off because that was another $20, and i needed to save a little.
Get back to campus, go to math and dose midway through the class. I also doodle me in the Invader Zim style on something I have to turn in, thinking it's my personal notes. We're having a homework test on Monday, maybe I'll actually do my work for this one....maybe. Won't hurt my grade. After class I decide I don't want another cafeteria meal, so I call Za and Nicole and we hit up La Herradura. Well, it's me and Nicole because Za's apparently not feeling too well. Dinner was good, I got some burritos. It was all awesome until paying because our friggin' waitress left us sitting for at least 30 min before picking up the tab. What the hell? Bad tip because of that.
Nicole asks me to be a part of a little stidy for her english class. All I have to do is take a fish oil pill every day for two weeks, and a prelim quiz and another in two weeks. It was easy enough, aside from the sudoku, and one or two questions, I believe i got everything else correct. It was just a tedious hour.
I head back to the apatment, play on the internet for an hour then go to bed deciding I need sleep.
---
Thuesday
---
I get up today and end up wasting a whole mess of time because my roommate's 9:30 has been canceled. I would have taken an early shower and lounged around until my 11:00 class, I end up waiting. Shower's don't take forever, it's drying enough that tape will stick to me so my bandages actually work for the following ~24 hours. I BS some more then go to class, and get there late. I'm also busy trying to get some stuff together, I mail my sister's gift, so she should get it tomorrow, I hope. Hmm, I'm bored in geology then I print out some stuff during Activity Hour before hitting up Del Vich's for two slices of cheese pizza. I carry them to yhe geology building because I have class at 1:30 and it's after 1 as is. I listen to SMod 52 while eating before my class.
Lab is mad easy, then I go off campus...why....I remember. I rented Slacker, Sold Out a Threevening With Kevin Smith and The Lords of Dog Town from the Naro for the weekend. Get back to campus and decide to spend some flex points before the semester is out on some ice cream and some vitamin water from Whitehurst. I run into Za and Josh, her boyfriend before getting back to the apt. We three chat for a time, then I watch Slacker. I end up dosing while watching the movie, so I back track and re-watch half the movie while I made some frankfurters for dinner, and some fries. I'm mildly annoyed because I have no ketchup because, I assume, the MB used it, the cunt. I use hot water to warm up from nacho cheese and eat that on my franks and the fries I'd made. it works out well enough, but not the same as that awesome tomato-y sauce of delicious.
Hit the internet until practice. I'm very uninspired and melancholy at practice tonight and just sit on the side barely watching people practice. It's annoying a little because I've corrected and explained so many times, but there were things that they still do wrong. In my mild depression I decide Reel Big Fish is the band for me, and start off wtih Drunk Again, which I mouth along to twice. I then just let my player play RBF for the next twenty minutes and after locking up the studio and returning the key I just leave. I say 'good bye' but no one seems to notice, which is well enough considering my mood. I spend an hour and a half writing this and feel better, before deciding to go to bed early and write my stupid psych thing in the morning.
My Dream thing will be written later. I want sleep now, and some drugs. Sleep and pills. Tis a sad life I lead.
----
Inspired by current topics in Psych class, talk about having a 'dream' and what my current dream is.
----
enjoy the peek of what i've been wanting to write for days but haven't had the time to
Jasmine P.
---
So, it's all finally been written. I do feel better and ...well, nothing really important for this 'and' but this was written, and now it's also all been put to rest. Just the dream thing, and that I might be fine with not elaborating on. I also feel better since I've jsut plain needed to write.
March 22, 2009
Self-loathing
Its been a long time since I outright hated myself or how I acted. Today was one of those days, one of those times. While I was out Elizabeth called to tell me she was too afraid to move off campus. I have made my resolution that I'm not living on campus anymore. I want to move on, but I was hoping to live with her. My motivation is I want to live with my own rules and not with people I disliked. I'm tired of having to share my living space with people I barely know and don't like, so I guess it works out. I mean, I've know for a long time that the only person I can truly rely on is myself, so I guess it's down to me a wee bit sooner than I thought, but it's what I want. I was a little annoyed and stress. I was annoyed because Elizabeth is so afraid of moving on. I'm trying to break my tethers, I'm fighting to be independent. I'm trying to grow up and she's too afraid of the outside world to be able to make the jump.
I'm a resolute person, I want to as close to the final say in my life as possible. She's not ready for that type of responsibility, I'm ready to try, to prove to the world that I'm an adult in my own right, or to try for it. She can't do that, I was upset that my friend whom I thought could make the trip into proving to the world that she was an adult too was unable to do it. I showed I was upset the way I always have. I cried. I sat in a chair in the middle of a Uni of Mary&Wash gym crying, I tried to sink into music, but I had friends to distract me which was both good and bad. I waxed on it a bit and explained how I was feeling, slightly betrayed, but how I need to move on. Living on campus is holding me back and I need more in my life that I'm in control of, so it's time for me to move on.
So, not too long after I've barely picked up the pieces of me and put myself back together and was almost back to being the strong Jasmine that I show the world I was broken by something as stupid as mushrooms being on my burger at Cheeburger Cheeburger. Nothing tastes as good when you're upset, and I was still upset for another ten minutes. I hated myself. Seriously. To a degree, I hated myself. I hate it when I cry and when I can't get back into control of myself.
Eventually when we were just about done I had calmed myself down, then I spent about ten minutes alone in the Barnes and Noble. I felt much better, then I had to apologize to Ian and AJ because I didn't like how I had acted, but I never like it when I cry especially not when I don't have the chance to sit on my own and get my mind straight. Now, a few hours past, and having written it out and apologized to everyone, except Tristan mostly because I don't know him on facebook, I'm feeling better. I'm back in control of my emotions and I think I can handle things now.
I can nw find a place of my own and be happy. A nice one person apartment, not in some fucking house, but a real apartment, and I'll make my own rules and I'll be happy. Things will be better for me, because I declared it how. Fucking seriously.
Jasmine P.
I'm a resolute person, I want to as close to the final say in my life as possible. She's not ready for that type of responsibility, I'm ready to try, to prove to the world that I'm an adult in my own right, or to try for it. She can't do that, I was upset that my friend whom I thought could make the trip into proving to the world that she was an adult too was unable to do it. I showed I was upset the way I always have. I cried. I sat in a chair in the middle of a Uni of Mary&Wash gym crying, I tried to sink into music, but I had friends to distract me which was both good and bad. I waxed on it a bit and explained how I was feeling, slightly betrayed, but how I need to move on. Living on campus is holding me back and I need more in my life that I'm in control of, so it's time for me to move on.
So, not too long after I've barely picked up the pieces of me and put myself back together and was almost back to being the strong Jasmine that I show the world I was broken by something as stupid as mushrooms being on my burger at Cheeburger Cheeburger. Nothing tastes as good when you're upset, and I was still upset for another ten minutes. I hated myself. Seriously. To a degree, I hated myself. I hate it when I cry and when I can't get back into control of myself.
Eventually when we were just about done I had calmed myself down, then I spent about ten minutes alone in the Barnes and Noble. I felt much better, then I had to apologize to Ian and AJ because I didn't like how I had acted, but I never like it when I cry especially not when I don't have the chance to sit on my own and get my mind straight. Now, a few hours past, and having written it out and apologized to everyone, except Tristan mostly because I don't know him on facebook, I'm feeling better. I'm back in control of my emotions and I think I can handle things now.
I can nw find a place of my own and be happy. A nice one person apartment, not in some fucking house, but a real apartment, and I'll make my own rules and I'll be happy. Things will be better for me, because I declared it how. Fucking seriously.
Jasmine P.
March 21, 2009
More Disgusting Medial Blah Blal Blah
So, yesterday I went back to Dr. Reed's office to get my incisions checked out and they look like hell to me. I was told they were fine, but they feel like shit, and hurt, and now I have more drugs so they make things better to deal with. But I also know that I have a vag that no dude is going to want to get near once it's all healed up. Seriously, I have pits in my flesh that I can put my finger in. I have pits under my arms I can put my finger in, and I don't know how much is going to heal properly. I don't know how much it's going to hear correctly, but from my perspective, I'm a little worried.
And there my reduced update of information you never wanted to know about my health =D
Suck it, or stop reading this, bitch. It's my journal and you're the one who decided to read this. Rolling out to a tournie tomorrow, maybe I'll have a less painful and medically detailed journal to post.
Jasmine P.
And there my reduced update of information you never wanted to know about my health =D
Suck it, or stop reading this, bitch. It's my journal and you're the one who decided to read this. Rolling out to a tournie tomorrow, maybe I'll have a less painful and medically detailed journal to post.
Jasmine P.
March 15, 2009
A Sea of Dire Straits
I really do have too much fun with non-sequitor titles, and my room is cold. Time to return the apartment temperature to it's proper 70 deg. place, then to continue on my post-op life :)
--
One minute later...
damn, that wasn't the apartment, that was me...which is probably a bad thing. Let's check our temperature. 99.1. Not the most worrisome thing, but I'll keep an eye on it, and I guess I'll take a short nap. I mean, I just took some ibuprofen about twenty minutes ago, so that's still working on kicking in.
Considering I can't remember where I left off, another moment or two to see what I last spoke about. :) So I drifted from Thursday night to Saturday morning. I'll write about trying to sleep then onto Friday, for reals.
-----
Sleeping in the hospital was hell, like always for me. Too many damn lights, and I'm supposed to sleep on my back? Friggin' impossible. So I try sleeping seriously around eleven and wake up around one. Knowing sleep won't be easy for me, I just chill and watch some King of the Hill, the beginning of an episode I'd watched the end of prior to sleep. I listened to some random SMod while sleeping and laughed at the stories that the gents shared. I woke up every few hours, once to pee, the other times to just try to lay back and get comfortable again. Dr. Reed came in arounf 6:30am and checked the bandages and spoke with me for a minute. I can't remember what he said, but I relaxed and watched a little bit of Wings before trying to sleep again. This time, aroung 7:30 Dr. Noorbakhsh came in, looked at the bandages and told me I'd be able to leave in a few hours.
I just chilled and watched TV alternately between listening to SMod until breakfast. Eating sucked because they hadn't given me any pain killers and my throat hurt from a tube they stuck down it during surgery. Aroung 10 they gave me some nampersin and after than the pain deminished. Dad and Pattie got to the hospital around 10:30 and I was back in the apartment by about noon. We dropped off the 'scrip and continued back to Powhatan where I told the guys of my inability to sleep. We chatted and Miguel and Dorien hung out with me when Dad and Pattie left to pick up the meds. I ate some lasagna slowly, as my throat still hurt, and didn't move much for about an hour. The guys left aroung 1, Dad and Pattie aoung 1:30 then I was alone and watched a coupl-a flicks.
Elizabeth came over around 4 and we chatted until 6, at which time I tok more drugs and watched more movies. Around nine something the Midget-bitch came back and that irritated me. I went to bed around 11 and slept awkwardly. Aroung 4:30 I woke up needing to pee, but was so afraid of tearing out my sutures that I waited too long and peed on my leg which was distressing and I was tired. It was a lot of pee, and I was more worried about blood because at an earlier time when I'd gone to the bathroom one of my healing wounds kept bleeding, just slowly dripping blood. I didn't want to see more blood falling from me so I stalled. Eventually I peed and one of the giand bandage pads I was given fell into the toilet, so I had to get that before flushing the toilet. I ended up making a sign to tell the Midget-bitch not to use the bathroom until I could clean the floor because I was in no state to clean that damn floor at no 5 in the morning.
I took some more drugs and went back to bed. I woke around 11 and ate more lasagna and took some more pain killers and sat high on the couch for at least 3 hours. I had no concept of time. Pretty awesome though. Watched more movies and tried typing which was idiotic because what I wrote made no sense. Still pretty fun. It was a pleasant lazy day I was typing description for dA, so I uploaded a few inked pictures and sketches that I want to color and just chilled. That evening I finally gave my stitches a good look and they didn't look as bad as I was thinking. They weren't really painful either, but I was also riding some painkiler or another so I couldn't feel pain, even if I wanted to.
I didn't do much and went to bed. Sunday, today, I woke up and made myself breakfast. Eggs, bacon and toast before sitting on the couch and watching Zack and Miri Make a Porno. Still amused by this movie. It's also been interesitng to see Kevin Smith's writing evolve, and his accpetance of ad-libbing. Back during Clerks, they stuck to the script, and now during Z&M they were riffing and it made it in. Maybe part of that, but I didn't notice his conversations coming out as much. Mallrats had some serious Clerks style conversations going on, but none of the rest of the Jersey Triliogy[even if there are 6 and not 3] seemed to have that going, not even ClerksII. I missed his clever writing, but I could appreciate it during Jersey Girl, which I don't understand why people didn't like it. I could see it being difficult to market, but it's a good movie in it's own right. I don't regret buying any of these movies and they've been an awesome way to relax for the weekend as I've been resting after my surgery.
I finished Z&M and watched the Making Of doc, and some of the features before decided I ought to read my english stuff, but opting to write a bit instead. Nothing hard hitting, just my life and what not.
I'm now going to take a nap, and I'll take care of things later. English and psych, and I jsut realized that I forgot to interview my brother's for my psych homework, I'll ask them it over the phone or something. I dunno. It's not due until Friday, so I have some time to take care of it. Rest first, work later. :)
Jasmine P.
--
One minute later...
damn, that wasn't the apartment, that was me...which is probably a bad thing. Let's check our temperature. 99.1. Not the most worrisome thing, but I'll keep an eye on it, and I guess I'll take a short nap. I mean, I just took some ibuprofen about twenty minutes ago, so that's still working on kicking in.
Considering I can't remember where I left off, another moment or two to see what I last spoke about. :) So I drifted from Thursday night to Saturday morning. I'll write about trying to sleep then onto Friday, for reals.
-----
Sleeping in the hospital was hell, like always for me. Too many damn lights, and I'm supposed to sleep on my back? Friggin' impossible. So I try sleeping seriously around eleven and wake up around one. Knowing sleep won't be easy for me, I just chill and watch some King of the Hill, the beginning of an episode I'd watched the end of prior to sleep. I listened to some random SMod while sleeping and laughed at the stories that the gents shared. I woke up every few hours, once to pee, the other times to just try to lay back and get comfortable again. Dr. Reed came in arounf 6:30am and checked the bandages and spoke with me for a minute. I can't remember what he said, but I relaxed and watched a little bit of Wings before trying to sleep again. This time, aroung 7:30 Dr. Noorbakhsh came in, looked at the bandages and told me I'd be able to leave in a few hours.
I just chilled and watched TV alternately between listening to SMod until breakfast. Eating sucked because they hadn't given me any pain killers and my throat hurt from a tube they stuck down it during surgery. Aroung 10 they gave me some nampersin and after than the pain deminished. Dad and Pattie got to the hospital around 10:30 and I was back in the apartment by about noon. We dropped off the 'scrip and continued back to Powhatan where I told the guys of my inability to sleep. We chatted and Miguel and Dorien hung out with me when Dad and Pattie left to pick up the meds. I ate some lasagna slowly, as my throat still hurt, and didn't move much for about an hour. The guys left aroung 1, Dad and Pattie aoung 1:30 then I was alone and watched a coupl-a flicks.
Elizabeth came over around 4 and we chatted until 6, at which time I tok more drugs and watched more movies. Around nine something the Midget-bitch came back and that irritated me. I went to bed around 11 and slept awkwardly. Aroung 4:30 I woke up needing to pee, but was so afraid of tearing out my sutures that I waited too long and peed on my leg which was distressing and I was tired. It was a lot of pee, and I was more worried about blood because at an earlier time when I'd gone to the bathroom one of my healing wounds kept bleeding, just slowly dripping blood. I didn't want to see more blood falling from me so I stalled. Eventually I peed and one of the giand bandage pads I was given fell into the toilet, so I had to get that before flushing the toilet. I ended up making a sign to tell the Midget-bitch not to use the bathroom until I could clean the floor because I was in no state to clean that damn floor at no 5 in the morning.
I took some more drugs and went back to bed. I woke around 11 and ate more lasagna and took some more pain killers and sat high on the couch for at least 3 hours. I had no concept of time. Pretty awesome though. Watched more movies and tried typing which was idiotic because what I wrote made no sense. Still pretty fun. It was a pleasant lazy day I was typing description for dA, so I uploaded a few inked pictures and sketches that I want to color and just chilled. That evening I finally gave my stitches a good look and they didn't look as bad as I was thinking. They weren't really painful either, but I was also riding some painkiler or another so I couldn't feel pain, even if I wanted to.
I didn't do much and went to bed. Sunday, today, I woke up and made myself breakfast. Eggs, bacon and toast before sitting on the couch and watching Zack and Miri Make a Porno. Still amused by this movie. It's also been interesitng to see Kevin Smith's writing evolve, and his accpetance of ad-libbing. Back during Clerks, they stuck to the script, and now during Z&M they were riffing and it made it in. Maybe part of that, but I didn't notice his conversations coming out as much. Mallrats had some serious Clerks style conversations going on, but none of the rest of the Jersey Triliogy[even if there are 6 and not 3] seemed to have that going, not even ClerksII. I missed his clever writing, but I could appreciate it during Jersey Girl, which I don't understand why people didn't like it. I could see it being difficult to market, but it's a good movie in it's own right. I don't regret buying any of these movies and they've been an awesome way to relax for the weekend as I've been resting after my surgery.
I finished Z&M and watched the Making Of doc, and some of the features before decided I ought to read my english stuff, but opting to write a bit instead. Nothing hard hitting, just my life and what not.
I'm now going to take a nap, and I'll take care of things later. English and psych, and I jsut realized that I forgot to interview my brother's for my psych homework, I'll ask them it over the phone or something. I dunno. It's not due until Friday, so I have some time to take care of it. Rest first, work later. :)
Jasmine P.
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