"I just have a lot of feelings."

In many of my classes, for reasons probably relating more to the classes I select than anything else, we frequently end up reading sentimental novels. And to be honest, I often have trouble imagining sobbing along with them, stirred to the heights of emotion by what seem to me to be ridiculously overblown descriptions of emotion. I scoff at whoever could be so naive as to be moved by such a book.

And then I go and watch Army Wives. It's this ridiculously overblown drama about wives of soldiers (duh), and how they and their families deal with duty to country and duty to family and blah blah blah. It's produced by those artisans of drama, Lifetime Television. And it gets me every. single. time. I always end up hunched over my computer, trying valiantly not to sob, moved to tears by impassioned speeches about what it means to be American/family/friends/etc. "Damnit," I think, "pull yourself together. You're too smart for this to work! It's all pro-America rah-rah bullshit! You're Canadian, for God's sake!"

Despite the fact that I can tell exactly how this show is trying to elicit my response, I am completely incapable of turning it off. It's the same thing with that Sarah MacLachlan ad for some animal protection agency (I'm not sure which one because every time it's on I either can't see through my tears by the time it gets to that part, or I've left the room to spare what's left of my dignity). I just can't hold back my immediate emotional response. So, I try to go a little easier than I used to on sentimental novels - after all, I'm just a slightly updated version of a sucker who cries while reading A Sentimental Journey.

Migraine Cure

The other night, my friends and I decided to go grocery shopping, due to an unpalatable dining hall dinner. I wound up buying 2 containers of strawberries (it was 2 for 1!), a package of croissants, and a jar of Nutella. Nutella used to be a treat reserved for food days in French class in high school, but it occurred to me that night, through the haze of the migraine that had settled in my mind, that I could just buy some. And eat it. On croissants. Freedom!

So, I wound up sitting on the floor of my room with my friends watching movies, slathering delicious "Hazelnut Spread with Skim Milk and Cocoa" onto croissants, and eating strawberries sparkling with the sugar I had dumped over them. Migraine cured! Fun had! If only delicious nut-based spreads worked like this all the time.

Progress

So, I'm breaking one of my cardinal rules of college: don't beg, borrow, or buy a new book that you really want to read when you know damn well that you don't have time to read everything required for class, let alone frothy fiction. But I really love this author, and her books are these tooth-achingly sweet pieces of magical realism based in the South, and sometimes I just need the literary version of cotton candy to melt in my brain and coat everything in sappy-happy goodness. So, here I am, wandering around with a book that I should not be reading, setting off the sensors at work all the time because it's a Lower Merion Library book and they drive Canaday crazy, trying to decide if I should just gorge myself and read it all in one go, or if I should parcel out the chapters like treats after accomplishing (school-related) tasks. (If you're wondering what's up with all the food references, the books always involve food - candy, cakes, barbecue, etc. and this has somehow invaded my brain.)

Anyway, this book is all about how people change over time and how you have to let go of the past and see people as they are, rather than as they were, and how sometimes you can spend your whole life trying to make up for something, becoming a completely different person in the process. Needless to say, I, the world-champion in not letting go of past injustices, am having some troubles with this whole plot. (This is not to say that I am not enjoying it. I am 160 pages into it, and 51 pages in Gertrude Stein. Hence my rule.)

Despite the fact that this is in no way an autobiographical text, I found one paragraph that really reminded me of class - "Your peers when you're a teenager will always be the keepers of your embarrassment and regret. It was one of life's great injustices, that you can move on and be accomplished and happy, but the moment you see someone from high school you immediately become the person you were then, not the person you are now." (Allen 102) (I'm really an English major now, citing things on my blog. God.)

And it's true, really. I read that and reflected that perhaps one of the reasons I decided to go to college 1200 miles from my high school was because I wanted to start again. I mean, I've spent my life waiting for the next restart - I learned the hard way when we first moved to Arizona that moving means starting over in the eyes of your peers - you have to completely recreate a self for others to interact with. And if you fuck it up, if you come across as anything other than what you want to be, then you're stuck with that self; no matter how much you actually change, people will see you as you were. At least until you get to move again, get the chance to start over again, and try to create someone you and others will like better. And that's what Arkansas was, and that's what college is, and that's what whatever happens after college will be. A chance to be a different, hopefully better person. And that's also what's so hard about moving - the realization that you have to let go of who you were, pack up the good parts, and try to leave the bad parts behind. Because, let's face it, you're never really going to be the ideal you that you want others to see. You can only ever try.

Room Draw

It's that time of year again! Room Draw time. Now, it might just be my real estate-loving side, but their is just something so appealing about room draw, in theory. You get to look at the whole campus and try to decide where you're going to live next year. You make contingency plans in case you wind up at the absolute bottom of the draw order and have to double up with a stranger. You have elaborate fantasies about how awesome your life will be, if only you get that awesome huge light-filled single that everyone wants. You sit in your room on the night that priority numbers are supposed to be posted and refresh the page where they will appear over...and over...and over...and then blog about it. Well, if you're me you do all of these things.

Anyway, this is another one of my blog posts that doesn't really have a point. Lately, I've been a little overwhelmed with my life in general, and possible blog post topics in particular. I've been meaning to make a post about grudges that people probably have against me, as a sort of rebuttal against my earlier post. Also, I was recently thinking about crappy/pathetic birthdays, so that might show up here in a while too. But for now, I'm juggling financial aid applications (made even more annoying by the new documentation system and having divorced parents), school work, the rapidly approaching graduation of my senior friends, the fact that I soon have to write a thesis, the fact that my mom is moving soon, and the fact that since spring is here, I never know whether to wear sandals or close-toed shoes.

Truly, my life is hard.

Priority numbers still not posted.

I hate the rain

So, stress. We all have it. We all deal with it in our own ways. At this point in the semester it all really seems to hit - it's almost the end of the year, we have to start on final projects, room draw is coming up - UGH - financial aid is due in a month, blah blah blah blah. I am perhaps unique in my favorite approach to dealing with the madness: I just made a list of everything that is stressing me out/that I am worried about. Then I went through and assigned different symbols and style of crossing-out lines based on solutions: there's just a straight line, for "done," a transparent wavy line for things over which I have no control and must let go of ASAP, and then asterisks with numbers next to them for indicating how soon I can start on one side, and how soon I should be done on the other. Truly I am a master at creating the appearance of progress. I really like that this allows me immediately cross things off the list (the things I can't change), as well as set goals for myself. Also, colored markers make everything better.

In other, mostly unrelated news, I hate it when people lock themselves out of the dorm and then pound on the door begging to be let in. I know this is callous. (I've even locked myself out. Once. But I never did it again.) But I live directly above and the right of the front door. I can hear you. It's annoying. Just call a friend and stop yelling. (Also, you know that conversation you had the other night at the front door, about how drunk you got last weekend and how you shouldn't have hooked up with your ex's brother? I heard that. If you say directly outside of my room, which happens to be directly in front of the door,I CAN HEAR YOU. (Also also, surely we all realize by now how poor the sound insulation on campus is. Surely we all know that no matter where you are, someone can hear you. Surely.))

Facebook Ads

Seriously. To quote every comedian ever, what's up with that? There is a ton of information about me floating around the internet. So much that it gets uncomfortable to think about too much. And my Facebook profile specifically just lists facts and favorites like there's no tomorrow. I'm even Facebook married to my best friend. A woman. Facebook thinks I'm gay married. And yet. The ads I get are all about "tea party conservatives," and taking back our taxes from Obama, who may or may not be a terrorist/alien/non-citizen. And how universal healthcare/socialized healthcare is bad. I'm Canadian! I love socialized everything. And also, there are tons of appeals, begging me to help ban gay marriage. Because I clearly want to ban gay marriage!! Why the fuck would I want to ban gay marriage, Facebook? For all you know, I'm actually gay married.

In addition, it appears that I desperately need to know what my baby with a celebrity/my crush would look like. I am also engaged, pregnant, married, a parent, and a college student, all of which render me eligible for a green card, laptop, or scholarship. Despite the complicated nature of my life, I still find time to be interested in meeting other gay, Indian, black, geeky, Jewish, and overweight singles.

This is not to say that sometimes Facebook ads aren't helpful. But how many times can I get directed to ModCloth before I bookmark it?

Chain Reactions

So, as a return to blogging, having been spurred to action by L who mentioned that her post would somehow involve me and my roommate (?!), after a week off that I may or may not have been supposed to take, I am going to discuss the fact that I love things that are the results of other things. Or, more poetically, I like to watch chain reactions. So, since this blog post is the direct result of another act (no, seriously, why are we in that blog post?), a small list of things I love to watch happen.

1) Fire

When I was little, I used to love candles. And matches. And watching melt wax in candles. And lighting matches with already lit candles. And picking the melted and then hardened strips of wax off of candles and melting them again by sticking them into the flame...Ahem. Anyway, despite the rather alarming nature of this predilection, I didn't wind up a pyromaniac. But I like to think it started me down the road of being obsessed with watching "This Too Shall Pass."

2) Melodramas and Romance Novels

Although some (most?) might find it boring to set out a narrative journey when you know damn well how it's all going to end, I really really enjoy starting a romance novel sure that the ending will be happy. I also really like crappy soap operas and bad teen shows, (I've already mentioned Degrassi, right?) when the beginning hints or outright tells you what's going to happen - you know, when someone says, "Oh, no, I would really hate it if I had to be lab partners with Jay. He's such a bad boy," and then bam! She's lab partners with Jay and they're in love, or at least in a steamy broom closet of PG-13-rated groping.

3) NationStates

My friend just introduced me to this website thing called NationStates, where you start your own country. You name it, answer questions about your politics, and then there it is, your very own nation. After that, you get two "issues" a day that you have to make decisions about, choosing from 2-5 options, or dismissing the issue altogether. The day after you make your decision, you go back and see what impact the new law has had on your country. You might get reclassified from "Democratic Socialists" to "Left-Leaning College State," or you might discover that making it so that hospitals can pay for blood donations means that "the poor are often seen pale and dizzy after selling their blood to make ends meet." It's the ultimate control. (Oo-er. That sounded kind of weird and freaky, but I can't really think of how to rephrase it...)

4) Snot Splatter

I may be revealing my mental age to be about 6 years old, but the best game I could think of that I really enjoy that involves chain reactions is Snot Splatter, which you should really go play because I am too lazy to explain it. It involves popping bubbles of a gross green substance that I firmly pretend is not snot, and trying to get them all to pop in one go. It's really fun.

Damnit L, why would I be in your blog?