Compare and contrast: an exercise in narcissism

I thought my arms had gotten more muscular (Yes! I thought, unexpected skater muscles coming in to play here! Maybe one day, I'll be able to serve a volleyball without experiencing incredible pain in my forearms!), but apparently they are just less flabby.
Last year:


Today:


Oh well, I am proud of the loss of flab, at least.
Today, my distractions have consisted of ice skating, listening to music, eating, watching Buffy/Angel, and buying a set of oil paints and using said paints to construct a hideous rendition of Edward Cullen, since Pattinson's alluring mug had been staring at me across the room, just begging for me to capture a very unconvincing likeness of him. Now, I'm off to practice my violin before more studying fun times!

Freedom

Today being the first Monday of our week-long Thanksgiving vacation (or, in more PC terms, "fall break"), I decided it would be the perfect chance to try riding my bike on campus with minimal panic attack possibilities. You see, my fears of cycling on campus are two-fold: I am not only afraid of being injured by a motor vehicle but also of pissing off people. I've always thought the latter was the stronger fear in me, and attributed this fear to whatever personality disorder I've decided I have for the week. Yet when I stepped out of my building hesitantly clutching my bike between my knees and taking as much time as possible adjusting my helmet straps, I saw a van, an SUV, and a truck go by on neighboring streets, and suddenly realized that my fear of being maimed or killed was probably actually stronger. Still, I had given myself a small task: ride to Altgeld Hall to mail my electricity payment, then ride to my building's management site to drop off my rent money, so I soldiered on, got on the road, and found the whole trip exhilarating! I tried my best to obey the rules of the road, though I occasionally went on the sidewalk in the more dangerous areas (e.g. bus stops), attempting to be mindful of pedestrians. There wasn't much traffic, as was to be expected, and I don't think I actually pissed off anyone. The most annoying parts of the trip were trying to remember my combination (I'd brought it with me, and kept opening it up, then putting it away and trying to remember it as I fiddled with the lock over and over.... High school really was a long time ago!) to my bike lock, having to stop for my reflector, which had fallen off on the way home, and holding open the various doors I have to traverse in order to get to my apartment (I keep my bike in my living room.).
Another nice thing about riding my bike on campus was that the quad was practically bare, and I didn't feel bad about riding on it for part of the way--When I was a freshman at U of I, there were signs up to warn you that bike riding was not allowed on the quad, but people rarely paid attention to them, and, to my knowledge, they're all gone.
I think part of the reason I wanted to take my bike out of my apartment was guilt; I'd had my parents bring my bike here earlier in the semester, and I didn't want their efforts to be for naught. But I also think that this was a major self-confidence booster, and the endorphins are nothing to sneeze at; although I wasn't riding for very long, I definitely got a high from being able to get on my bike and go, actually coming to a complete stop at stop signs (I hate when people don't do this), and feeling the wind rush against me as I pushed along the sides of the roads and tried to stay out of people's way.
Before setting off on my expedition, I was writing checks, and I suddenly realized that I'm not the helpless person I sometimes imagine myself to be. I can write checks correctly. I get myself to pay my bills on time, I just cleaned (parts of) my apartment and did several loads of laundry. Why do I sometimes feel like I'm incapable of doing simple chores, and only realize later that I can do them, and much more. I have a college degree and I'm shooting for another one. Why do I get this brain freeze that doesn't allow me to do basic math sometimes, or brings me into a dissociative state in which I don't know who or what I am, and believe that I can't do anything of substance? Writing the check, walking through my clean(er) apartment, going through my closet full of clothes that are actually hung on hangers properly and somewhat organized by garment type, and going to pay my bills, riding that bike, all gave me a sort of high and realization that I'm an adult and can do things for myself. I think part of the hesitance to accept my adulthood stems from the fact that I never had to do much for myself when I was growing up. My parents almost always picked me up from school, so I was never a latchkey kid. My only regular chore in the house was to set the table with my sister; I didn't have to make my bed, and rarely was asked to mow the lawn or shovel snow (although these requests came more and more frequently as I got older!). I can probably count the number of times that I had to wash dishes on one hand. Every once in a while I'd get to run the vacuum cleaner, which I always enjoyed. Although I appreciate that my parents did a lot for me as a kid (and I appreciate that they still let me stay with them when I'm on vacation, let me talk to them for hours on the phone, and help me out with money), I think part of me never thought I was capable of doing these things, and still sometimes believes that I can't do them, that I'm incapable of an adult life. This insecurity gets in the way of living my life fully, but I realize that, over the years, I've become more and more outgoing in doing things I want to do, and doing things for myself. Taking my bike out gave me this wonderful sense of being and freedom that I can't describe. I've never gone out on my bike without first telling a family member that I was leaving on my bike, and, yes, I have my helmet, and, yes, I have a key to the house. Yes, I'll be careful. No, I won't talk to strangers. I'm 23 and I'm finally feeling like an adult, and it's wonderful!

Please subpoena this post

November has proved to be an exciting month. I'll go somewhat chronologically.

I participated in my first skating exhibition, performing in the adult synchronized skating team Champaign on Ice. Things were a little rocky in our performance, but we pulled through and ended together with smiles on our faces. My parents and some friends (Mica, Chris and Jessica) came to see me, which was awesome! It was great to have their support and see their beautiful faces afterward!

One new thing I learned that I love about skating? The built-in velveteen panties in case someone accidentally sees up your short flippy skating dress:



The night before the skating exhibition, I decided not to go "crazy" (that is, not to drink vast quantities of liquor and stay out late dancing), and ended up going to the Neko Case concert with Jenelle and Tricia:


I look so much more photogenic in this picture than in all the GEO pictures that got taken at the protest:



Of course, I'm posing in this, I'm wearing more makeup than just foundation and chapstick, and it's not 7:45 am :) My narcissistic self thought that it would look as if I'd cared too much about my appearance if I'd worn too much makeup to the protest. Just how bad does that make me?

I tried taking pictures of Neko Case, but didn't want to use a flash, which was a good idea, because the pompous hipsters surrounding us were mad enough (although not very verbally; they just sort of snorted their noses in our general direction-sorry hipsters, you know I love you!!!) that we were taking pictures of each other with the flash at intermission. It was my first Canopy Club concert, as it was for Jenelle and Tricia, and we thought the venue was really cool. The inside is reminiscent of other buildings' interiors on Oregon, like Red Herring and Espresso Royale Café at Oregon and Goodwin.

Here is one attempt:

Unfortunately, the only picture that doesn't have trippy "moving" people in it due to my zooming in while in "Night" mode has a random head in it (presumably attached to a body).

I've also decided to participate in this year's National Novel Writing Month.

This project consists of writing a 50,000 word novel in 30 days, from 12:00:01 am on November 1st until November 30th. I started 10 days late, and I only have 10,845 words so far, but it's exciting to be able to write a work of fiction with such abandon; the reason that there is a word count goal is so that participants don't get bogged down in the details and don't worry about going over and editing everything. All you do is submit your 50,000+ words to be counted and verified between Nov. 25 and Nov. 30; quality doesn't matter, as the people who run NaNoWriMo do not read your novel, which is automatically deleted after your words are counted.

I usually have trouble writing fiction, but since I don't have to worry about having every detail be perfect, the words are flowing pretty well, and I'm constantly having ideas as to where the plot(s) could go. I don't know if I'll have time to finish, but trying to create something is rewarding in and of itself.

One thing I hate when I've been writing so much in word documents on my computer is that I try to Command + S everything: emails, notebooks, orders on line at Subway.... It's unsettling.

Last weekend was a busy, and sort of represents all the events of this month: I went to freestyle Saturday morning to practice my freestyle 1 material, then I got a ride from Liz, another grad student in the French department, to go to Willard Airport for a GEO negotiation in the afternoon, and we stayed there about 3.5-4 hours! The entire negotiation lasted about 6 hours, but the GEO and the administration weren't able to come to agreeable terms regarding language in the contract protecting tuition waivers for out of state and international students, so a strike was authorized! Then I went to dinner with Jessica, Sean and Dan to meet Chris and his mom, but left early to meet Mica for Le mariage de Figaro (the opera, not a discussion of our reading list!). Her neighbor played Cherubino and was awesome!

Sunday was kind of awash as I anticipated the strike, did some homework, and attended a Picket Captain meeting, while developing an ulcer and several panic attacks.

On Monday and Tuesday, I went on strike and protested at the FLB. It was a very unique experience, and I'll never look at any of the buildings on the quad, especially not FLB, where I spent most of my picketing hours, or Foellinger Hall, where the final rally took place at the end of the second and final day of the strike and we were told that an agreement had finally been made. I have tons of photos which I'm not going to put up here. The whole thing was surreal, and I met a lot of people from my building through the protest that I probably wouldn't have met otherwise. It was rewarding to fight for my union and to get what we wanted in the end. The ratification process is ongoing, and once everyone's voted, we'll find out if the strike is "officially" over (although we're all back in the classrooms).

One last news item:

I now am the proud owner of a new pair of ghetto-fabulous designer glasses:

Weird picture of me wearing them.... At least my face looks thin it it.... And... are those cheekbones?!! haha



I now declare this post over.

The paranoid delusions start early this season

Today, I woke up at approximately 4:44 a.m..  I remembered that I had not set any alarms and that I'd left my phone as well as my watch in the other room.  What I neglected to remember is that it is Saturday, and that I have no time-sensitive obligations over the weekend-that is to say that it was not, as I thought, Friday morning, and I had not slept in through a class I had to teach.  In a paranoid frenzy, I sprung from my bed and bounded head-first into the side of my bedroom door, which had been cracked open enough for me to believe, falsely, that I was about to head past the door and not into it.  I then hobbled (because my paranoid subconscious probably thought that the collision had caused some neurological damage in the part of my brain that controls what I'll call "leg motor skills") to the kitchen to check the time, grab my Hello Kitty ice pack and drag the former back to bed with me.  That pretty much set the tone for the day.

What I learned on the way home from my weekend vacation

From my mother:

1.  "a myriad of" is a redundant construction, as is "from whence".

From The Most Ghetto Rest Stop I Regularly Frequent outside of Chicago on my way back to Champaign:

2.  Inventive spelling, is not, in fact, always successful*:

*In the sense that the writer did not arrive at the proper spelling by guessing.  The writer is successful in carrying across his/her message.

Ah prescriptivism.

existential lunch break

     I just got home from proctoring an exam, and I'm already hungry for lunch (since I had breakfast at 7:30 am).  Bewildered as to what I should choose to snarf and cloudy-headed from having spent an hour and 40 minutes proctoring, studying, reading and generally not being a morning person, I googled, "What should I have for lunch".  

     Apparently many people suffer from the despair of luxury and choices, as this yielded 58,500,000 results (okay, 24,100 with quotes).  On page 2 of the results, I found a post from someone who had written, "I know it's only 10 am, but I'm already thinking about lunch.  What should I have today?"  

     While I love that I'm not alone in planning meals hours in advance, and especially that I'm not alone in planning them at that very hour, it's a little weird whenever I google something I'm thinking, to see that others have thought the same thing.  The lunch thing, okay, pretty common.  But it makes me wonder how many of my other thoughts are actually "original".  I thought I was weird and crazy when I had trouble believing that I exist, but, lo and behold, "existential depression" yields 13,200 results, "I feel as if I don't exist", 898, and, the more favorable, "I feel like I don't exist", 6,960.  I feel sometimes that I've come to some great revelation (at least to myself), and then I find somebody's already written it, already said it, already thought it out.  All I have left to do is buy the t-shirt.  When I was little, I was playing my violin and realized that if I moved my left hand closer to me, down the fingerboard, I could produce the same notes on a lower string as on a higher string.  When I gleefully demonstrated this to my parents, they said, "Yes!  Very good, that's 2nd/3rd/4th position!"

     This all really helps my existential depression, doesn't it?  Well, I keep on pushing anyway, and I feel quite lively at the moment, although the spaces under my eyes feel tired and it feels as if there is cotton inside my head.  Now what am I going to eat for lunch today...?

Horribly structured post of randomness

1.  I woke up with "Honey, Honey" by ABBA stuck in my head.  It's still stuck in my head.

2.  Why does it sometimes take so much effort for people to arse themselves to do things they enjoy?  Why do people who love music dread practicing (Okay, fair enough, sometimes it's totally frustrating and I hate the way I sound and want to break my violin, and there is a certain anxiety sometimes when it's been a while since my last practice session and the only person in the same hallway plays the same instrument....)?  Why can't I get myself to go to dance classes or the gym as regularly as I might enjoy?  I love reading and can even get into a studying groove once I get started... so why is it so hard to get started?

3.  I'm having breathing problems, but I think it's just from allergies/stress/a spring cold.  I think I scared the crap out of a cashier at Walgreens when I handed over my debit card, clutching my chest with a distressed look on my face yesterday.

4.  I bought an awesome hat last night, but I don't think it goes with any of the clothes in my "spring collection".

5.  I've decided that the best season of "Buffy" for dialogue is season 3.