First of all, I'm on medication again, and I will be seeing a doctor back in Londonderry every two weeks until I can make an appointment with a psychiatrist. It's not ideal, but I don't have to see my creepy pediatrician doctor (I'm seeing one of the RNPs instead) and at least this means I can get my life/grades back on track in the meantime.
I also didn't go to class Thursday or Friday-- Friday because of the doctor's appointment, and Thursday because Wednesday night I had a bit of a breakdown and cried for several hours, and Ryter had to come get me and made me spend the night at his place so he could keep an eye on me and keep me company.
I feel bad for Ryter-- he's been trying so hard to help keep me stable and get me back on track, and meanwhile he's been having issues of his own, most recently the fact that his dentist crowned the wrong tooth, so he's going to have to deal with either forcing the dentist's office to make all the repairs free of charge as well as not charging him for the original crown, or else initiating a malpractice lawsuit. And he's been feeling like he shouldn't be complaining to me, despite the fact that I've told him it's okay, since I'm complaining to him. But he's been incredibly supportive and sweet, even if he was displeased that I asked for help from my mom rather than trying to pull through and do what was needed on my own.
I guess I should have, but I honestly didn't know what to do. The problem I have is that unlike Ryter, I never lived away from my parents until college, so my mom tended to just take care of all my medical stuff for me. Now I can make most appointments, but when I run up against a system I really don't understand, when I genuinely don't know what to do, I call her, and she can usually figure out something. Like in this case, having me go to a normal doctor's office not connected to the school, so they wouldn't just send me to the Mental Health Services people and make me wait. There's no way in hell I would have thought of that, because I didn't know that non-psychiatric doctors prescribed antidepressants. And next time I can do it on my own (if there is a next time, which I doubt).
It will take me a while before I can be fully independent. I expect to call my mom the first time I want to plan an elaborate Christmas dinner for my family and have it all ready at the same time, or if I'm the victim of fraud, because I've never experienced those kinds of things before. I mean, Ryter had to call his dad over the whole malpractice thing, partially due to the fact it's his insurance, of course, but also because it's just hard to know what to do in a situation you have never experienced before.
Next week, I'll call the psychiatrist in Dover and try to make an appointment, and also start calling around and trying to find a new therapist. There's one that is right next to campus and a very quick walk, plus she does Cognitive Behavioral Therapy which I am told might work well on me. If she's taking new clients that would be perfect. If not, I think my next option will probably be seeing one of the therapists who works in the same facility as the psychiatrist.
I have a plan. Plans are good.
Showing posts with label writer guy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writer guy. Show all posts
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Part 1, Christmas Week
So there is a good reason why I didn't write a blog entry the past couple days. My dad "fixed" the wireless connection, so it went from working fine to not working at all for a few days.
So Christmas has come and gone. Well, almost. Christmas is being spread out over six days for me this year. This will take a couple posts.
SUNDAY: Ryter's family party. It was cool. We went down to his grandmother's house and exchanged gifts and sat around and talked. I met his favorite cousin, who is very cool, and stood around feeling awkward most of the time. By the end I was exhausted and ready to go well before Ryter was, but I waited until he was ready to go anyway, because he doesn't get to see his cousin very much.
I also almost got into a politics fight at dinner before I remembered The Rules of Discussion at Social Events: No politics, no sex, no religion. Oops. But I backed out. It's just hard not to get riled when someone's talking about Huckabee taking over the US government. I'm pretty sure I would arrange to do med school in Canada, if degree transfers would work.
MONDAY: Christmas Eve. We cleaned the house and cooked what we could of Christmas dinner, then got a massive quantity of Chinese food, as is tradition. See, my great-uncle was an insurance salesman, and he believed that a good salesman buys from his customers. So on Christmas Eve he would visit every Chinese restaurant he insured and buy food from each. Thus, mountains of food. My dad's carrying on the tradition, with only one restaurant as the others in this town suck.
To be continued...
So Christmas has come and gone. Well, almost. Christmas is being spread out over six days for me this year. This will take a couple posts.
SUNDAY: Ryter's family party. It was cool. We went down to his grandmother's house and exchanged gifts and sat around and talked. I met his favorite cousin, who is very cool, and stood around feeling awkward most of the time. By the end I was exhausted and ready to go well before Ryter was, but I waited until he was ready to go anyway, because he doesn't get to see his cousin very much.I also almost got into a politics fight at dinner before I remembered The Rules of Discussion at Social Events: No politics, no sex, no religion. Oops. But I backed out. It's just hard not to get riled when someone's talking about Huckabee taking over the US government. I'm pretty sure I would arrange to do med school in Canada, if degree transfers would work.
MONDAY: Christmas Eve. We cleaned the house and cooked what we could of Christmas dinner, then got a massive quantity of Chinese food, as is tradition. See, my great-uncle was an insurance salesman, and he believed that a good salesman buys from his customers. So on Christmas Eve he would visit every Chinese restaurant he insured and buy food from each. Thus, mountains of food. My dad's carrying on the tradition, with only one restaurant as the others in this town suck.
To be continued...
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
What I Think About When I Should Be Doing Homework
So I was reading Navelgazing Midwife, which is a fascinating blog, and very helpful to me, because I want to go into obstetrics and gynecology and the blog often talks about problems with OBs.
I
was especially interested in her post about birth rape, because I honestly never heard of it before, but it really makes sense. Many women were saying how their OBs didn't respect their choices or tried to force or coerce them into things, especially involving sticking hands or instruments up the birth canal. I read several years ago about doctors who perform episiotomies when the mother doesn't need it, and I was rather horrified. One thing I always assumed about medicine was that you do what the patient (or their legal guardian) wants, as long as it is legal.
Now, of course, in childbirth there is the question of the child and sometimes things go wrong. But misrepresenting information to a mother, or treating her like she is stupid or imbalanced simply because she is in labor? I hope I never get that arrogant, and that if people see me becoming so, they will slap sense into me. I know that when I am in my residency I will have to obey the chief OB, but I hope I can get one who is understanding and compassionate towards the new mothers, and that even if I am not so lucky I will still focus on the mother and pay attention to HER demands.
I think when I get to that point in my life I'll take classes in midwifery, so I can do things like catch the baby no matter what position the mom is in, and learn what's best to say to mothers. And I intend, if at all possible, to hand the baby to the
mother BEFORE it gets brought into the nursery. Unless the baby is seriously injured or drastically premature and needs medical attention, mothers should get to see and hold the results of their labor immediately (or when they wake up) and begin bonding (unless, of course, it is a case of the child being put up for adoption or surrogacy and the biological mother doesn't want to hold the baby).
One of the reasons I want to be an OB/gyn and not a midwife or a nurse, besides money, is that as an OB, I will have control, and be able to do things like kick out nurses who belittle the mother or try to pressure her into things she doesn't want. And hopefully in my own small corner of the world, I can start making up for all the shitty, terrible OBs in the world.
And as for myself, when I'm pregnant I'm going to do tons of research and walk into the OB's office (I don't think I'd want to do a home birth) long before labor and say, "I am informed and educated in the subject of childbirth, and I want you to understand that I expect to be in control. Do not try to treat me like a child or an idiot or a hysteric at any point in this process. If you do not agree ahead of time to listen to me and treat me like an educated equal, I cannot have you as my doctor." Hopefully by that point I will be in med school or an intern and have access to OBs I know I can trust.
And then I will probably have a perfectly normal, hospital birth, on my back with my only "unusual" demand being no epidural or offers of an epidural until I specifically request it. I mean, hospital births aren't all that bad. My mom had three healthy vaginal hospital births (even my sister, who was late) and she always talks about how the nurse-midwives who helped her were the most wonderful thing imaginable (there were a couple of other women in labor at the time and hers was fairly normal, so the OB was only really there to check in and catch the baby). But hopefully as an OB/gyn I'll be able to help some of the women who might otherwise have had a really terrible doctor who treats it as a disease instead of a normal biological process that just requires a bit of help and an experienced set of eyes and hands if something's wrong.
-----------------------------------------------
Tonight Ryter suggested that he, Loquelo, Nonaestima and I all get a house in Dover next year, and I commute to campus...
Pros: I like Nonaestima and Loquelo, and obviously Ryter, and I would get to cook my own food and eat healthy. I'd have a real bathroom and a real kitchen and it might even be cheaper than living on campus, depending on where we go.
Cons: Ryter would have to be cleaner. I'm fairly messy myself but I have to have a clean toilet seat and no grime in my shower, and nothing sticky on tile floors or crumbs on the rug. Also, he figured we'd just share a bedroom, and I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that right yet. I wouldn't be living on campus and I'd bet money my circle of friends wouldn't be growing. I'd be paying for gas too. And even though I doubt it would happen (pray it won't), I have to consider what I would do if we ever broke up mid-semester.
Oh, and the number one con: My parents would NEVER agree to it. Not sharing a bedroom. My mom doesn't even want to have me live off campus at all, because she wants me to get the college experience, and she's already worried I spend too much time with him and that he's looking for someone to settle down with while I should be fun-dating. My dad... yeah. Not gonna happen. And they control the money.
Maybe senior year, if I proposed it right. But next year? HIGHLY unlikely. HIGHLY.
I
was especially interested in her post about birth rape, because I honestly never heard of it before, but it really makes sense. Many women were saying how their OBs didn't respect their choices or tried to force or coerce them into things, especially involving sticking hands or instruments up the birth canal. I read several years ago about doctors who perform episiotomies when the mother doesn't need it, and I was rather horrified. One thing I always assumed about medicine was that you do what the patient (or their legal guardian) wants, as long as it is legal. Now, of course, in childbirth there is the question of the child and sometimes things go wrong. But misrepresenting information to a mother, or treating her like she is stupid or imbalanced simply because she is in labor? I hope I never get that arrogant, and that if people see me becoming so, they will slap sense into me. I know that when I am in my residency I will have to obey the chief OB, but I hope I can get one who is understanding and compassionate towards the new mothers, and that even if I am not so lucky I will still focus on the mother and pay attention to HER demands.
I think when I get to that point in my life I'll take classes in midwifery, so I can do things like catch the baby no matter what position the mom is in, and learn what's best to say to mothers. And I intend, if at all possible, to hand the baby to the
mother BEFORE it gets brought into the nursery. Unless the baby is seriously injured or drastically premature and needs medical attention, mothers should get to see and hold the results of their labor immediately (or when they wake up) and begin bonding (unless, of course, it is a case of the child being put up for adoption or surrogacy and the biological mother doesn't want to hold the baby).One of the reasons I want to be an OB/gyn and not a midwife or a nurse, besides money, is that as an OB, I will have control, and be able to do things like kick out nurses who belittle the mother or try to pressure her into things she doesn't want. And hopefully in my own small corner of the world, I can start making up for all the shitty, terrible OBs in the world.
And as for myself, when I'm pregnant I'm going to do tons of research and walk into the OB's office (I don't think I'd want to do a home birth) long before labor and say, "I am informed and educated in the subject of childbirth, and I want you to understand that I expect to be in control. Do not try to treat me like a child or an idiot or a hysteric at any point in this process. If you do not agree ahead of time to listen to me and treat me like an educated equal, I cannot have you as my doctor." Hopefully by that point I will be in med school or an intern and have access to OBs I know I can trust.
And then I will probably have a perfectly normal, hospital birth, on my back with my only "unusual" demand being no epidural or offers of an epidural until I specifically request it. I mean, hospital births aren't all that bad. My mom had three healthy vaginal hospital births (even my sister, who was late) and she always talks about how the nurse-midwives who helped her were the most wonderful thing imaginable (there were a couple of other women in labor at the time and hers was fairly normal, so the OB was only really there to check in and catch the baby). But hopefully as an OB/gyn I'll be able to help some of the women who might otherwise have had a really terrible doctor who treats it as a disease instead of a normal biological process that just requires a bit of help and an experienced set of eyes and hands if something's wrong.Tonight Ryter suggested that he, Loquelo, Nonaestima and I all get a house in Dover next year, and I commute to campus...
Pros: I like Nonaestima and Loquelo, and obviously Ryter, and I would get to cook my own food and eat healthy. I'd have a real bathroom and a real kitchen and it might even be cheaper than living on campus, depending on where we go.
Cons: Ryter would have to be cleaner. I'm fairly messy myself but I have to have a clean toilet seat and no grime in my shower, and nothing sticky on tile floors or crumbs on the rug. Also, he figured we'd just share a bedroom, and I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that right yet. I wouldn't be living on campus and I'd bet money my circle of friends wouldn't be growing. I'd be paying for gas too. And even though I doubt it would happen (pray it won't), I have to consider what I would do if we ever broke up mid-semester.
Oh, and the number one con: My parents would NEVER agree to it. Not sharing a bedroom. My mom doesn't even want to have me live off campus at all, because she wants me to get the college experience, and she's already worried I spend too much time with him and that he's looking for someone to settle down with while I should be fun-dating. My dad... yeah. Not gonna happen. And they control the money.
Maybe senior year, if I proposed it right. But next year? HIGHLY unlikely. HIGHLY.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Don't you hate days when everything goes wrong?
Perhaps it's no coincidence that my religious beliefs are so closely tied to the idea of guilt, because sometimes it feels like that is the emotion I feel the most, and most powerfully.
Right now Vivacia is upset with me because today we celebrated her birthday and I'm pretty sure I royally messed it up.
My parents are irritated because I saw them for the first time in weeks and I couldn't even let them take me to lunch or really do anything but talk to me for two minutes and then go.
Closer is probably more than a little pissed at me because I messed up his surprise that I didn't know about and that didn't happen anyway for reasons unrelated.
Ryter will probably feel like crap if/when he finds out about any of this because it's all tied up in his wanting to tag along and get to know everyone better.
I try to make everyone happy and this shit happens. If I don't try to make everyone happy they all get mad at me. I can't do anything right and I don't know why I bother to try.
I have 38 hours over the course of an entire week when I am not sleeping, eating, in class or doing homework. Of that there are actually only two blocks of time, Friday night and Saturday, when I am free from a long enough amount of time to make planning something feasible. Meanwhile Vivacia's usually on duty during those blocks Everyone wants my time, it seems, and half of them don't want my time with them to overlap with my time with anyone else. Ryter just wants me to spend time with him and he wants to spend time with Vivacia and Closer, but my parents think I need to spend more time studying or come home more often (my mom was upset that I didn't come home this weekend), and Vivacia wants me to spend time with her without Ryter being around.
I don't know. I posted more of this in my livejournal, because it's all very emo and LJ is better for being melodramatic.
Right now Vivacia is upset with me because today we celebrated her birthday and I'm pretty sure I royally messed it up.
My parents are irritated because I saw them for the first time in weeks and I couldn't even let them take me to lunch or really do anything but talk to me for two minutes and then go.
Closer is probably more than a little pissed at me because I messed up his surprise that I didn't know about and that didn't happen anyway for reasons unrelated.
Ryter will probably feel like crap if/when he finds out about any of this because it's all tied up in his wanting to tag along and get to know everyone better.
I try to make everyone happy and this shit happens. If I don't try to make everyone happy they all get mad at me. I can't do anything right and I don't know why I bother to try.
I have 38 hours over the course of an entire week when I am not sleeping, eating, in class or doing homework. Of that there are actually only two blocks of time, Friday night and Saturday, when I am free from a long enough amount of time to make planning something feasible. Meanwhile Vivacia's usually on duty during those blocks Everyone wants my time, it seems, and half of them don't want my time with them to overlap with my time with anyone else. Ryter just wants me to spend time with him and he wants to spend time with Vivacia and Closer, but my parents think I need to spend more time studying or come home more often (my mom was upset that I didn't come home this weekend), and Vivacia wants me to spend time with her without Ryter being around.
I don't know. I posted more of this in my livejournal, because it's all very emo and LJ is better for being melodramatic.
Friday, October 19, 2007
I think I annoyed Vivacia with my crazy school reform ideas.
Holy shit! My last entry was # 300 and I forgot! Oh well. Congrats to me, that was my 300th blog post! Wooo!
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Sorry I forgot to write a blog entry last night, Ryter and I hung out after my reall not-fun Chem lab (four hours and I only got 1% yield for one sample) and watched the movie Se7en, all because Ryter is doing a short preliminary-to-a-novel story on a telekinetic serial killer and I said, "You know, I always thought it would be cool to do a story about a killer whose MO is based on the seven deadly sins."
He then said, "You know what? Get in the car. We're going to Blockbuster."
So my idea's been done. I liked the movie, actually, though it was very creepy. Hang on a second....
SPOILERS, IF YOU CARE
Not that you should, it was released over ten years ago. Still, only fair to warn people.
I have to say, my favorite murder by far was the Sloth one. Chaining a guy to a bed and keeping him alive as his body is covered in excruciating sores until he looks like an long-dead corpse and his mind slowly turns to mush, so he can't identify you when he is found? Cutting off his hand to place his fingerprints at the scene of another crime, thus leading the cops to him at the perfect time? And even paying his rent so that his landlord never complained or noticed? That's impressive.
The writers were pretty creative with the murders. Gluttony= force feeding was kind of obvious, but a pound of flesh from the greedy man then bleeding him dry, that was clever. Although the "lust" one, making a john strap on a penis sheath with a blade on the end and stab a prostitute through the uterus, creeped me out because there are actually people who might make that sort of shit for someone. Gah. The model for Pride was interesting because I actually have trouble believing even a model would choose suicide over disfigured survival. I mean, really, you'd think she'd know something about plastic surgery. Someone could build her a new nose to replace the one he cut off.
The only part that really bugged me, though, was the final scene, specifically mailing the young detective's wife's head to him. Creepy and effective, yes. But I have two problems with it. One, Doe SPECIFICALLY said in the car that his victims were not "innocent people." As in, he killed them because they were sinners. He didn't think he was a monster for it, because they were not innocent. And yet... he kills a pregnant woman and her fetus with her, just to get at the guy he wants to peg as Wrath? Maybe he could justify the woman as obviously a sinner because all people are guilty of some sin, but Catholic dogma, which he was following, states that a child can't be accountable for their sins until they are seven years old, and that a newborn has only the original sin. By his own rules he should have been forced to leave her alone as soon as she said she was pregnant.
Also, I thought the detective should have died. All the other representations of sin died. Why not Wrath? I figured he should have killed himself and it should have ended right then.
But anyway.
------------------------------------------------
Today Vivacia and I had girl time. We talked and I helped her bake a cake for her mom's birthday, which they are celebrating tomorrow. It was fun.
And yet, while I like spending time with her, this is the first weekend since I got back to school that I haven't spent the night at Ryter's. It's actually been a couple months since I went a week without spending the night at Ryter's.
AHHH! Boyfriend withdrawal... No. Must. Kick. Habit...
I'm lonely.
Sorry I forgot to write a blog entry last night, Ryter and I hung out after my reall not-fun Chem lab (four hours and I only got 1% yield for one sample) and watched the movie Se7en, all because Ryter is doing a short preliminary-to-a-novel story on a telekinetic serial killer and I said, "You know, I always thought it would be cool to do a story about a killer whose MO is based on the seven deadly sins."
He then said, "You know what? Get in the car. We're going to Blockbuster."
So my idea's been done. I liked the movie, actually, though it was very creepy. Hang on a second....
Not that you should, it was released over ten years ago. Still, only fair to warn people.
I have to say, my favorite murder by far was the Sloth one. Chaining a guy to a bed and keeping him alive as his body is covered in excruciating sores until he looks like an long-dead corpse and his mind slowly turns to mush, so he can't identify you when he is found? Cutting off his hand to place his fingerprints at the scene of another crime, thus leading the cops to him at the perfect time? And even paying his rent so that his landlord never complained or noticed? That's impressive. The writers were pretty creative with the murders. Gluttony= force feeding was kind of obvious, but a pound of flesh from the greedy man then bleeding him dry, that was clever. Although the "lust" one, making a john strap on a penis sheath with a blade on the end and stab a prostitute through the uterus, creeped me out because there are actually people who might make that sort of shit for someone. Gah. The model for Pride was interesting because I actually have trouble believing even a model would choose suicide over disfigured survival. I mean, really, you'd think she'd know something about plastic surgery. Someone could build her a new nose to replace the one he cut off.
The only part that really bugged me, though, was the final scene, specifically mailing the young detective's wife's head to him. Creepy and effective, yes. But I have two problems with it. One, Doe SPECIFICALLY said in the car that his victims were not "innocent people." As in, he killed them because they were sinners. He didn't think he was a monster for it, because they were not innocent. And yet... he kills a pregnant woman and her fetus with her, just to get at the guy he wants to peg as Wrath? Maybe he could justify the woman as obviously a sinner because all people are guilty of some sin, but Catholic dogma, which he was following, states that a child can't be accountable for their sins until they are seven years old, and that a newborn has only the original sin. By his own rules he should have been forced to leave her alone as soon as she said she was pregnant. Also, I thought the detective should have died. All the other representations of sin died. Why not Wrath? I figured he should have killed himself and it should have ended right then.
But anyway.
Today Vivacia and I had girl time. We talked and I helped her bake a cake for her mom's birthday, which they are celebrating tomorrow. It was fun.
And yet, while I like spending time with her, this is the first weekend since I got back to school that I haven't spent the night at Ryter's. It's actually been a couple months since I went a week without spending the night at Ryter's.
AHHH! Boyfriend withdrawal... No. Must. Kick. Habit...
I'm lonely.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Not this shit again.
I managed to skip Biostats today. Not intentionally. We were dismissed from Organic and, instead of sitting there and waiting for my professor to come in, I just... left. I spaced. I honestly thought it was time for me to go. I forgot a whole hour of my day.
But oh well. I can catch up later. I'm stressed, is all.
---------------------------------------------
I'm at home right now, which will help. I talked to my mom about Thanksgiving with Ryter-- she said she's okay with it, but I haven't talked to my dad yet. That will not go as well...
Honestly? I'd rather we just did separate Thanksgivings this year. I think he said they do a deli platter. For Thanksgiving. My mom does a big-ass turkey and a whole mess of side dishes and she's a fabulous cook. She suggested we do the dinner Friday, if Shrewd could get Friday off work, but if Shrewd's at Crate and Barrel she'll need to do day-after-Thanksgiving sales. Moving it would be so unbeleivably perfect... but unlikely. So I may be skipping my mom's amazing Thanksgiving cooking for Ryter. I hope that kid knows how much I love him.
---------------------------------------------
I played my Marvel Heroes monopoly game tonight with my mom and dad. I lost, spectacularly. Mummy won, and she was talking to Shrewd on the phone for the first 20 minutes or so. It didn't help that Daddy had the TV going for background noise, which makes it impossible for me to concentrate. But it's a cute game, and a lot of fun. Park Place was Magneto, Boardwalk was Professor X, in case you're curious.
---------------------------------------------
So I was sitting here writing this at midnight, and now I'm crying. Why am I crying? Hell if I know. I'm just crying. And I can't see the screen very well.
okay, so maybe I do know. Maybe I'm crying because I'm so stressed I accidentally skipped a class. Maybe it's because I just finished my third test in less than a week this morning. Maybe it's because I spent 15 minutes of that test on one problem only to realize that duh, 1200 divided by 300 is 4, not 400. Maybe it's because I can't stick to a diet and every time I look down I am reminded of how fat I am. Maybe it's the fact that he, completely innocently, made me feel incredibly embarrassed and ashamed of the one feature of my body that I have always felt really, really self-conscious about and wanted him to approve of. Maybe it's because I have a Orgo quiz Monday and a test in two weeks. Maybe it has something to do with all my Daphnia dying and my turning in a crappy report on them. Maybe it's the fact that my boyfriend has told me that all the not-quite-sex stuff that we do together does pretty much nothing for him, and basically told me to lay off anything more than kissing until I'm ready for sex (not that he's saying that needs to be soon). Maybe it's the fact that this is the first time I've been home for longer than an hour since I went to school, and I can only spend the night, and no one's going to be home tomorrow anyway since it's Thursday and they have to work, and by the time they get home I'll have to go back to Durham so I can be around to spend tomorrow hiking with Ryter, and spend the night before him sleeping in his god-awful uncomfortable bed and not touching him, then go spend Saturday being smiley and happy for his family, and Sunday doing homework. Maybe it has something to do with not being ALONE since... god. I can't remember. I can't remember being alone. And I'm increasingly retreating into my fantasy worlds to the point where reality seems surreal, and I can't fix that problem because I have maybe five friends and they're all so busy with jobs or extracurriculars (you know, lives) that I can't spend time with them instead and have THEM pull me out of this world I've retreated into. And I feel like I can't tell Ryter because he's stressed out already and his problems are worse than mine, and besides, he's the reason for some of mine and that will make him feel worse and when he feels guilty it makes me feel bad for making him feel guilty and ultimately, even if it was his fault, I wind up suffering emotionally more than him.
I'm so sick of crying. The way I stop crying is to retreat into a fantasy, where I'm pretty and healthy and supreme dictator of earth. But when I retreat into fantasy it's worse when I have to return to the real world. So I have to decide if the temporary relief is worth it.
But oh well. I can catch up later. I'm stressed, is all.
I'm at home right now, which will help. I talked to my mom about Thanksgiving with Ryter-- she said she's okay with it, but I haven't talked to my dad yet. That will not go as well...
Honestly? I'd rather we just did separate Thanksgivings this year. I think he said they do a deli platter. For Thanksgiving. My mom does a big-ass turkey and a whole mess of side dishes and she's a fabulous cook. She suggested we do the dinner Friday, if Shrewd could get Friday off work, but if Shrewd's at Crate and Barrel she'll need to do day-after-Thanksgiving sales. Moving it would be so unbeleivably perfect... but unlikely. So I may be skipping my mom's amazing Thanksgiving cooking for Ryter. I hope that kid knows how much I love him.
I played my Marvel Heroes monopoly game tonight with my mom and dad. I lost, spectacularly. Mummy won, and she was talking to Shrewd on the phone for the first 20 minutes or so. It didn't help that Daddy had the TV going for background noise, which makes it impossible for me to concentrate. But it's a cute game, and a lot of fun. Park Place was Magneto, Boardwalk was Professor X, in case you're curious.
So I was sitting here writing this at midnight, and now I'm crying. Why am I crying? Hell if I know. I'm just crying. And I can't see the screen very well.
okay, so maybe I do know. Maybe I'm crying because I'm so stressed I accidentally skipped a class. Maybe it's because I just finished my third test in less than a week this morning. Maybe it's because I spent 15 minutes of that test on one problem only to realize that duh, 1200 divided by 300 is 4, not 400. Maybe it's because I can't stick to a diet and every time I look down I am reminded of how fat I am. Maybe it's the fact that he, completely innocently, made me feel incredibly embarrassed and ashamed of the one feature of my body that I have always felt really, really self-conscious about and wanted him to approve of. Maybe it's because I have a Orgo quiz Monday and a test in two weeks. Maybe it has something to do with all my Daphnia dying and my turning in a crappy report on them. Maybe it's the fact that my boyfriend has told me that all the not-quite-sex stuff that we do together does pretty much nothing for him, and basically told me to lay off anything more than kissing until I'm ready for sex (not that he's saying that needs to be soon). Maybe it's the fact that this is the first time I've been home for longer than an hour since I went to school, and I can only spend the night, and no one's going to be home tomorrow anyway since it's Thursday and they have to work, and by the time they get home I'll have to go back to Durham so I can be around to spend tomorrow hiking with Ryter, and spend the night before him sleeping in his god-awful uncomfortable bed and not touching him, then go spend Saturday being smiley and happy for his family, and Sunday doing homework. Maybe it has something to do with not being ALONE since... god. I can't remember. I can't remember being alone. And I'm increasingly retreating into my fantasy worlds to the point where reality seems surreal, and I can't fix that problem because I have maybe five friends and they're all so busy with jobs or extracurriculars (you know, lives) that I can't spend time with them instead and have THEM pull me out of this world I've retreated into. And I feel like I can't tell Ryter because he's stressed out already and his problems are worse than mine, and besides, he's the reason for some of mine and that will make him feel worse and when he feels guilty it makes me feel bad for making him feel guilty and ultimately, even if it was his fault, I wind up suffering emotionally more than him.
I'm so sick of crying. The way I stop crying is to retreat into a fantasy, where I'm pretty and healthy and supreme dictator of earth. But when I retreat into fantasy it's worse when I have to return to the real world. So I have to decide if the temporary relief is worth it.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
My mother seems to have decided to give me sweaters a lot-- I'm not entirely sure how related this is to the "miniskirt" incident...
My whole family came up for my birthday celebration today, which was cool. We went to the New England Center (they have a Sunday brunch buffet), and Vivacia and Ryter came too.
It was cool. I got a cowboy hat, a sweater, an iTunes gift card, a Marvel Monopoly board and $375. All of which are most excellent. Also, the food was good and having Vivacia there apparently made Ryter a lot less nervous around my parents, because they were more focused on the fact that they haven't seen Vivacia in ages.
Then, I spent the afternoon studying. Well, sort of. I was supposed to be studying, anyway. It was an on and off thing... However, I did set up my secondary blog, which has only three entries. It's just me babbling about the Middle East conflict, plural marriage, and cheating, but if you like that sort of thing or want to tell me all the many ways I am wrong, check it out. Unlike many internet opinion blogs, I will admit if you change my mind-- and changing my mind is possible.
It was cool. I got a cowboy hat, a sweater, an iTunes gift card, a Marvel Monopoly board and $375. All of which are most excellent. Also, the food was good and having Vivacia there apparently made Ryter a lot less nervous around my parents, because they were more focused on the fact that they haven't seen Vivacia in ages.Then, I spent the afternoon studying. Well, sort of. I was supposed to be studying, anyway. It was an on and off thing... However, I did set up my secondary blog, which has only three entries. It's just me babbling about the Middle East conflict, plural marriage, and cheating, but if you like that sort of thing or want to tell me all the many ways I am wrong, check it out. Unlike many internet opinion blogs, I will admit if you change my mind-- and changing my mind is possible.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Last one, I promise
This is one of many new blog entries from tonight. Check the first one here.
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Today Ryter and I went up to the White Mountain National Forest and hiked along the Pemigewasset River, on the Lincoln Woods trail. It was a LOT of fun. I need better hiking socks for my boots, but it was still fun. We walked the main, flat, wide, used-to-be-a-railroad-track trail for a while, though we did wander off it when there was a good place to climb down to the river.
We sat on the rocks for a while until giant insects the size of a quarter (well, one giant insect the size of a quarter) attacked us. Then, back to the trail. We finally veered off when we saw a little side trail labeled, "Black Pond, 1.0 miles" and decided to investigate. That was a much more rugged trail (well, less of a dirt road, more of a trail) but it was also fun and more exciting. We never found Black Pond, we had to turn around (I'm reeeeeeally out of shape) but it was a fun walk and we're going back next week, to find either Black Pond or the waterfall that is rumored to be in the area, whichever we decide.
I was sweaty and gross afterwards, but it was worth it. So much fun. And Ryter especially loved it, he can't wait to get back. I really hope I can match his stamina soon, because I know he really wants to get so tired he comes back to his apartment and collapses from exhaustion, and I get that way about an hour before he does...
Next week, I am totally bringing my camera.
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There, all caught up. More tomorrow/later today (it's 12:03) after my birthday party, and after I start studying for the Ecology test on Wednesday (yeah, ANOTHER test...).
Today Ryter and I went up to the White Mountain National Forest and hiked along the Pemigewasset River, on the Lincoln Woods trail. It was a LOT of fun. I need better hiking socks for my boots, but it was still fun. We walked the main, flat, wide, used-to-be-a-railroad-track trail for a while, though we did wander off it when there was a good place to climb down to the river. We sat on the rocks for a while until giant insects the size of a quarter (well, one giant insect the size of a quarter) attacked us. Then, back to the trail. We finally veered off when we saw a little side trail labeled, "Black Pond, 1.0 miles" and decided to investigate. That was a much more rugged trail (well, less of a dirt road, more of a trail) but it was also fun and more exciting. We never found Black Pond, we had to turn around (I'm reeeeeeally out of shape) but it was a fun walk and we're going back next week, to find either Black Pond or the waterfall that is rumored to be in the area, whichever we decide.
I was sweaty and gross afterwards, but it was worth it. So much fun. And Ryter especially loved it, he can't wait to get back. I really hope I can match his stamina soon, because I know he really wants to get so tired he comes back to his apartment and collapses from exhaustion, and I get that way about an hour before he does...
Next week, I am totally bringing my camera.
There, all caught up. More tomorrow/later today (it's 12:03) after my birthday party, and after I start studying for the Ecology test on Wednesday (yeah, ANOTHER test...).
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
"What the-- That's not funny! You suck!!!"
Last day of the Ludi Romani, and also, for those Egyptians out there, the Fast of Thoth. Thoth was one of the most important Egyptian deities. He represented the balance between good and evil, was the scribe for the gods (and according to the Egyptians, invented hieroglyphs), the master of natural and moral law, the one who decided how and when the stars, sun, and moon should move and the god of all science and learning. He's probably closest to Athena of the Greek pantheon in that respect. He was the master of the Underworld and would weigh a man's heart against a feather to determine if he was a good or bad person.
I feel the need to share a little gem from Latin class today. we are reading Horace, who was a Roman poet who was friends with such infamous greats as Virgil and Augustus Caesar, the emperor. Here is an except of the sermones (V) that we just finished translating:"Hic ego mendacem stultissimus usque puellam
ad mediam moctem exspecto: somnus tamen aufert
intentum Veneri: tum immundo somnia visu
nocturnam vestem maculant ventremque supinum."
l. 82-85
Translation for the uninitiated: "Here [as in, in the city he was staying in] I in my extreme stupidity awaited a deceitful girl until midnight: but sleep stole my readiness for love: then in dreams the unclean sights defiled my night-"clothes and my prone stomach."
See? See? This is why I love the Romans. Only in that culture could a man who writes poetry about getting stood up by a prostitute and then having a wet dream be best buds with the emperor.
Random tidbit of the day #2: "The average American man will begin to force himself to lose weight as soon as he can't see his own genitalia. The average American woman will start doing so when she can't see anyone else's."
Also, Ryter says he's been feeling much better-- he's hungry again and sleeping all the time to catch up. So I'm not worried about him any more. Well, I'm not worried about him needing to be rushed to the hospital. I am slightly concerned that he will get hit on the head by a meteor. That's why every time I see a shooting star I wish that it doesn't land on the head of anyone I know.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
I say the pickled cauliflower was weirdest. And that's what he KEPT.
Last night I went over to Ryter's. He's been doing increasingly poorly the longer he has to deal with the tic and the pain, which really sucks. I'm trying to just be there for him, there's not much else I can do, and he can't really do anything either until he sees the neurologist except handle the pain as best he can.
Today, randomly, I started cleaning his fridge. I don't really know why I did it, but I was feeding Jesus the Lizard for him and instead of putting Jesus' veggies back I started pulling out the old veggies and dumping them out in the compost bin. But it was an experience, certainly. There was clumpy milk and gray cheese, pumpkin beer over a year old and a hot dog that was completely solid. He had a liquefied squash and something we couldn't identify in a plastic bag, and the V8 had a fuzzy white thing floating on it. But now his fridge is clean, so if he feels up to it and goes to see his dad tomorrow (for laundry and a Costco trip), he can put the things he buys somewhere. Plus I won't go to pull out Jesus' blueberries and almost put my hand in a strange off-white substance with a green shimmer that has pooled at the bottom of the fruit drawer.
Boys.
I also did all his dishes, but that's mostly because I'm the one who asks that we use them-- he just eats with his hands or disposable packages half the time, and reuses dishes many times before cleaning them-- and his OCD means he has issues letting things soak, because of the dirty standing water. I don't mind doing that sort of thing-- Ryter's always worried that I'm going to get sick of dealing with that stuff and break up with him because of it, but I mean, come on. I'm hardly going to fault the guy for a liquefied squash and a few dishes, especially not when he's got all this other crap to deal with (and cleaning fridges is actually kind of fun, sort of like how I imagine forensic scientists might enjoy their job. I always like seeing what weird things people put in their fridges and forget about). Part of the dishes was giving him one less thing to have to deal with-- at least he'll have something to clean to eat off of if he needs to and he won't have a whole pile of dirty dishes laying around getting in his way.
I'd clean his whole apartment if I thought it would improve his mood, but I think the only thing that would do that is going to the neurologist and having them say, "Oh, we know exactly what is causing every single one of your problems. Take this one pill once a day for six weeks and then you'll be cured of all these problems for the rest of your life, and be happy and productive until you're 80."
And then he comes home, and wins the lottery.
Oh well. Things will get better, at least, if the neurologist can handle the tic and help with the pain. Which seems very likely.
He told me when he dropped me off that he didn't want me to worry about him. I replied, "I'm your girlfriend and you're suffering, of course I'm going to worry. But I won't drive myself crazy over it, I promise." He settled for that.
One and a half weeks until he can see the neurologist. Only one and a half weeks...
Today, randomly, I started cleaning his fridge. I don't really know why I did it, but I was feeding Jesus the Lizard for him and instead of putting Jesus' veggies back I started pulling out the old veggies and dumping them out in the compost bin. But it was an experience, certainly. There was clumpy milk and gray cheese, pumpkin beer over a year old and a hot dog that was completely solid. He had a liquefied squash and something we couldn't identify in a plastic bag, and the V8 had a fuzzy white thing floating on it. But now his fridge is clean, so if he feels up to it and goes to see his dad tomorrow (for laundry and a Costco trip), he can put the things he buys somewhere. Plus I won't go to pull out Jesus' blueberries and almost put my hand in a strange off-white substance with a green shimmer that has pooled at the bottom of the fruit drawer.Boys.
I also did all his dishes, but that's mostly because I'm the one who asks that we use them-- he just eats with his hands or disposable packages half the time, and reuses dishes many times before cleaning them-- and his OCD means he has issues letting things soak, because of the dirty standing water. I don't mind doing that sort of thing-- Ryter's always worried that I'm going to get sick of dealing with that stuff and break up with him because of it, but I mean, come on. I'm hardly going to fault the guy for a liquefied squash and a few dishes, especially not when he's got all this other crap to deal with (and cleaning fridges is actually kind of fun, sort of like how I imagine forensic scientists might enjoy their job. I always like seeing what weird things people put in their fridges and forget about). Part of the dishes was giving him one less thing to have to deal with-- at least he'll have something to clean to eat off of if he needs to and he won't have a whole pile of dirty dishes laying around getting in his way.
I'd clean his whole apartment if I thought it would improve his mood, but I think the only thing that would do that is going to the neurologist and having them say, "Oh, we know exactly what is causing every single one of your problems. Take this one pill once a day for six weeks and then you'll be cured of all these problems for the rest of your life, and be happy and productive until you're 80."And then he comes home, and wins the lottery.
Oh well. Things will get better, at least, if the neurologist can handle the tic and help with the pain. Which seems very likely.
He told me when he dropped me off that he didn't want me to worry about him. I replied, "I'm your girlfriend and you're suffering, of course I'm going to worry. But I won't drive myself crazy over it, I promise." He settled for that.
One and a half weeks until he can see the neurologist. Only one and a half weeks...
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Not my evening
Still the Ludi Romani.
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Ryter was really sick tonight, like, constant agony sick; he's got a tic problem that's popped up (well, he claims it's been there forever, but I haven't noticed it) and it affected his trachea, causing him to have trouble with food and drink. He also is dealing with some medication shifting while he's waiting to see a neurologist, and that may have had something to do with all of this. Luckily his meds kicked in in the evening so it was okay, but we were thinking he might have to go to the ER for a little bit there. If he has that problem tomorrow, he will.
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Then on top of that, my mother called. See, when I was buying school stuff the clerks would offer me various promotions. The conversation would go thusly:
"Would you like to sign up for our Rewards Card?"
"What does it do?"
"Well, you get a discount on all future purchases."
"Does it cost anything?"
"No, it's free."
"And it's just a discount?"
"Yep! Takes no time to sign up..."
And I would sign up, because what's the loss?
So now my mom's called with the news that contrary to what I was told, these are actually credit cards. And what's more, all those pesky "receipts" I signed, and all those times the clerks swiped my card? Yeah, they weren't real. They were just practice, I suppose. Because now they're charging me for it again, on their little credit card that was supposed to be a Rewards Card, like the little key thing you get at Shaw's that gives you discounts on baked beans once in a while.
So their clerks blatantly misrepresented these cards to me, and now I discover I have to pay them off and cancel them and this HUGE hassle. I intend to actually go into the stores that I got the cards from and ask to speak to the manager there, and say, "Your employees GROSSLY misrepresented this deal. They portrayed the card as a simple discount membership, failing to mention that it was in fact a CREDIT CARD and that I would still owe money. I like your merchandise and this won't stop me from shopping here, but I damn well expect the next time I or anyone comes in and you offer this service that you have those clerks mention "credit card" somewhere in their little chat-up."
We;re ignoring the me not reading the small print part. If the clerks had been honest, I would have. As it was, I wasn't expecting that I was entering any kind of contract that could negatively affect me in any way; as it is my mom has to pay these things off for me lest I wind up with a bad credit score, then I have to cancel them.... bah...
Ryter was really sick tonight, like, constant agony sick; he's got a tic problem that's popped up (well, he claims it's been there forever, but I haven't noticed it) and it affected his trachea, causing him to have trouble with food and drink. He also is dealing with some medication shifting while he's waiting to see a neurologist, and that may have had something to do with all of this. Luckily his meds kicked in in the evening so it was okay, but we were thinking he might have to go to the ER for a little bit there. If he has that problem tomorrow, he will.
Then on top of that, my mother called. See, when I was buying school stuff the clerks would offer me various promotions. The conversation would go thusly:
"Would you like to sign up for our Rewards Card?"
"What does it do?"
"Well, you get a discount on all future purchases."
"Does it cost anything?"
"No, it's free."
"And it's just a discount?"
"Yep! Takes no time to sign up..."
And I would sign up, because what's the loss?
So now my mom's called with the news that contrary to what I was told, these are actually credit cards. And what's more, all those pesky "receipts" I signed, and all those times the clerks swiped my card? Yeah, they weren't real. They were just practice, I suppose. Because now they're charging me for it again, on their little credit card that was supposed to be a Rewards Card, like the little key thing you get at Shaw's that gives you discounts on baked beans once in a while.
So their clerks blatantly misrepresented these cards to me, and now I discover I have to pay them off and cancel them and this HUGE hassle. I intend to actually go into the stores that I got the cards from and ask to speak to the manager there, and say, "Your employees GROSSLY misrepresented this deal. They portrayed the card as a simple discount membership, failing to mention that it was in fact a CREDIT CARD and that I would still owe money. I like your merchandise and this won't stop me from shopping here, but I damn well expect the next time I or anyone comes in and you offer this service that you have those clerks mention "credit card" somewhere in their little chat-up."
We;re ignoring the me not reading the small print part. If the clerks had been honest, I would have. As it was, I wasn't expecting that I was entering any kind of contract that could negatively affect me in any way; as it is my mom has to pay these things off for me lest I wind up with a bad credit score, then I have to cancel them.... bah...
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Optimism
Second day of the Ludi Romani.
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Today after my morning classes I went over to try and sell back my old textbooks-- at least, the ones I didn't want to keep (I kept Classical Mythology, for example). Alas, the science books are "too old"-- I couldn't resell those. Unfortunate, as those were the expensive ones. I wound up only getting $16.
--------------------------------
I've had my first three classes (they're one right after another). Ecology looks interesting, and the teacher is the very image of a scatterbrained professor-- tie, slacks, button-down T-shirt and bright pink Crocs. Organic doesn't seem like it will be impossible and the professor reminds me a lot of what I figure last year's unfortunate Chem teacher would have been like if he had been able to control the class- very accessible, friendly, likes technology. And Biostatistics is only worrying me because he doesn't allow calculators for a lot of it. And yet again, I wish I could go back in time and learn those damn times tables when that's all I had to think about...
I can't do basic math, by the way. I use calculators. I can handle more advanced stuff, but ask me what 8 time 12 is and I will give you a blank look.
Latin was this afternoon, but I have the same Latin teacher I had last year that I liked, so I'm not too worried about the class itself-- except Ryter's ex, the ex he REALLY doesn't like because he says she used him and tossed him aside and denied they were even dating to her friends, is ALSO in that class. Yeah. Awkward.
--------------------------------
Last night I didn't wind up hanging out with Ryter, as I had dinner with my roommate then went to a rock-painting social for the dorm. It was cool. I have a pretty doorstop now. Ryter was a little irritated about it but he swears he's okay, and I spent tonight with him. He's been really stressed out lately and things are only going to get worse over the next couple weeks. Plus his lizard is sick.
But it will be fine. I know it will.
Today after my morning classes I went over to try and sell back my old textbooks-- at least, the ones I didn't want to keep (I kept Classical Mythology, for example). Alas, the science books are "too old"-- I couldn't resell those. Unfortunate, as those were the expensive ones. I wound up only getting $16.
I've had my first three classes (they're one right after another). Ecology looks interesting, and the teacher is the very image of a scatterbrained professor-- tie, slacks, button-down T-shirt and bright pink Crocs. Organic doesn't seem like it will be impossible and the professor reminds me a lot of what I figure last year's unfortunate Chem teacher would have been like if he had been able to control the class- very accessible, friendly, likes technology. And Biostatistics is only worrying me because he doesn't allow calculators for a lot of it. And yet again, I wish I could go back in time and learn those damn times tables when that's all I had to think about...I can't do basic math, by the way. I use calculators. I can handle more advanced stuff, but ask me what 8 time 12 is and I will give you a blank look.
Latin was this afternoon, but I have the same Latin teacher I had last year that I liked, so I'm not too worried about the class itself-- except Ryter's ex, the ex he REALLY doesn't like because he says she used him and tossed him aside and denied they were even dating to her friends, is ALSO in that class. Yeah. Awkward.
Last night I didn't wind up hanging out with Ryter, as I had dinner with my roommate then went to a rock-painting social for the dorm. It was cool. I have a pretty doorstop now. Ryter was a little irritated about it but he swears he's okay, and I spent tonight with him. He's been really stressed out lately and things are only going to get worse over the next couple weeks. Plus his lizard is sick.But it will be fine. I know it will.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
I'm baaaaaa-ack.
Today is the first day of the Ludi Romani, fifteen days of games to honor Jupiter, king of the gods. It's also the year, in 394 AD, when the last Pagan Emperor, Eugenius, died.
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I moved back to UNH yesterday,waking up at 7:00 in the morning and dragging my family out of bed (an excellent revenge for not spending any time with me on my last night at home-- I woke them up early when they didn't get in until 12:30) and began to jam stuff into the car. I made the mistake of stating, "There's no way all my crap will fit into one car-- we should take two," which Daddy and the Brother took as a challenge and naturally responded to by packing us in really tightly, with the truck bungeed down and me riding the whole way with a white plastic set of drawers on my lap. At one point Daddy took a sharp turn and I asked, "Is the fish okay? Did he tip over?" Mummy just laughed. For about fifteen minutes.
But it was only an hour, and then we arrived and checked in. I had called Ryter and asked him to come over and help move me in, but there were about 10 people waiting to help with the unloading so no one bought more than 1 heavy thing up, in this parade of boxes and the fridge. By the time Ryter arrived there wasn't much left to do-- Daddy, the Brother and I had lofted the bed and moved the desk under it and Mummy had started unpacking things.
Of course, his arrival did mean he was there for one of the more embarrassing moments of the day... I had very carefully put all the things that I own that my mother doesn't know I own-- mostly undergarments and such-- in one box easily recognizable box, and spent much of the time trying to keep her from OPENING said box. I had finally thought I was in the clear when she held up a miniskirt that I had packed in the wrong box and shrieked, "What the hell is THIS?"
I hid in the closet.
And thus was my roommate introduced to me-- hiding in the closet while my mother berated me about how this was "NOT a skirt," etc, etc. So today, once I switched from "unbelievably embarrassed" to "angry," I sent her an email which in addition to mentioning various expenses I had incurred with the moving in, chastised her for embarrassing me with her complete lack of tact.
Her response offered an apology, at least, if it was tempered with an "I was just surprised" and a bit of denial.
-----------------------------------------
As yesterday was also exactly six months after Ryter and I started dating, he took me out to the place where we went out on our first date, this little Indian place. It was very sweet of him. Afterwards I had to go back to the dorm for a quick-- and mandatory-- floor meeting then I spent a few hours hanging out with him.
-----------------------------------------
At least I didn't have any classes today-- normally my only Tuesday class is an Ecology lab. I went in to Dover, was reminded of how much I hate the buses, then came back here and plan to continue with the unpacking while I wait for Matt to be able to take me to the bookstore (I need his car so I don't have to carry books for 4 classes all the way back to Hubbard on my lonesome. Hopefully we'll get to hang out a bit, too.
It's nice to be back.
----------------------------------
I moved back to UNH yesterday,waking up at 7:00 in the morning and dragging my family out of bed (an excellent revenge for not spending any time with me on my last night at home-- I woke them up early when they didn't get in until 12:30) and began to jam stuff into the car. I made the mistake of stating, "There's no way all my crap will fit into one car-- we should take two," which Daddy and the Brother took as a challenge and naturally responded to by packing us in really tightly, with the truck bungeed down and me riding the whole way with a white plastic set of drawers on my lap. At one point Daddy took a sharp turn and I asked, "Is the fish okay? Did he tip over?" Mummy just laughed. For about fifteen minutes.But it was only an hour, and then we arrived and checked in. I had called Ryter and asked him to come over and help move me in, but there were about 10 people waiting to help with the unloading so no one bought more than 1 heavy thing up, in this parade of boxes and the fridge. By the time Ryter arrived there wasn't much left to do-- Daddy, the Brother and I had lofted the bed and moved the desk under it and Mummy had started unpacking things.
Of course, his arrival did mean he was there for one of the more embarrassing moments of the day... I had very carefully put all the things that I own that my mother doesn't know I own-- mostly undergarments and such-- in one box easily recognizable box, and spent much of the time trying to keep her from OPENING said box. I had finally thought I was in the clear when she held up a miniskirt that I had packed in the wrong box and shrieked, "What the hell is THIS?"
I hid in the closet.
And thus was my roommate introduced to me-- hiding in the closet while my mother berated me about how this was "NOT a skirt," etc, etc. So today, once I switched from "unbelievably embarrassed" to "angry," I sent her an email which in addition to mentioning various expenses I had incurred with the moving in, chastised her for embarrassing me with her complete lack of tact.Her response offered an apology, at least, if it was tempered with an "I was just surprised" and a bit of denial.
-----------------------------------------
As yesterday was also exactly six months after Ryter and I started dating, he took me out to the place where we went out on our first date, this little Indian place. It was very sweet of him. Afterwards I had to go back to the dorm for a quick-- and mandatory-- floor meeting then I spent a few hours hanging out with him.
-----------------------------------------
At least I didn't have any classes today-- normally my only Tuesday class is an Ecology lab. I went in to Dover, was reminded of how much I hate the buses, then came back here and plan to continue with the unpacking while I wait for Matt to be able to take me to the bookstore (I need his car so I don't have to carry books for 4 classes all the way back to Hubbard on my lonesome. Hopefully we'll get to hang out a bit, too.
It's nice to be back.
Friday, August 10, 2007
"It was tragic and delicious."
This week has been a bit insane for me. Why? Well, let's recap.
Monday night, after I got my last paycheck from the Discovery store, I went down to Cape Cod with my folks, saw Order of the Phoenix, and spent the night, because on Tuesday Ryter was coming down to join me, Mummy, Daddy, my great-aunt (the one who took me to the Revels), her significant other to whom she is not married, my grandfather, Shrewd, and Shrewd' s college friend Spaz, who I can actually call Spaz on here despite that ALSO being how I think of her in real life (she and my sister have the same name, Spaz is her nickname, etc) on account of it not being a REAL name. We were having our big annual lobstah feed.
It could have been worse. My great aunt didn't interrogate Ryter nearly as bad as I had expected, and he made a good impression on my family for showing up, staying all the way until dessert, generally being personable and, in the case of my father, turning down that second glass of champagne. My aunt has voiced her approval. Plus we got to build a sandcastle-- Ryter is quite the accomplished sand-castle constructionist. And we got to scare the crap out of the teenage boy who didn't realize the architect was on the beach and thought it would be funny to destroy the thing.
Boy: YARGH! [kick, kick, jump, swipe]
Ryter: [glowers]
Me: That's not very nice.
Boy: Oh, it's my castle, I made it.
Me: No, you didn't.
Boy: Yes I did!
Me: Uhm, no, he did. [points to Ryter]
Boy: [dawning horror and anticipation of a smack down, followed by frantic attempts to "fix it"]
It was pretty hilarious. Almost made up for the kid's assholery.
I think Ryter was expecting the park to be, like, overun with unwashed toddlers and hillbillies, so he was pleasantly surprised to find that it's not the sort of place trailer trash affords-- most people who go there are like my family, with enough money for a summer place but not enough for a full-sized cottage they can only visit for a few weeks and weekends. The problem was, what with it being a three and a half hour drive down from Durham, and his hamstrings acting up, it wasn't really a fun day for him-- I mean, he flatly stated that the only reason he was going was because it was important to me that he go.
I wish there was a way to make the experiences that are fun for me be fun for him, too. I like everything, anything he wants to do is usually fun for me, but the reverse is not so, and he's usually dealing with pain at the same time which makes things even more difficult. Basically thus far the only things I've suggested that he's been able to get enthusiastic about are making pizzas with weird toppings and going to the orchards in my hometown and stargazing (there's no ambient light, so the night sky is amazing on clear nights-- so amazing that last time we went we saw several shooting stars, clear as a bell). Most of my ideas he either tries and winds up disliking (the planetarium in Concord, for example), or KNOWS he won't like (hiking, or the Chatham band concert).
Vivacia wants to go to Old Home Days in our town, and see the fireworks, and she suggested I invite him, but I don't think I'll have much success. Unfortunately, if Ryter doesn't come along it looks right now like it will wind up being Vivacia, her boyfriend Closer, me, and my former boyfriend Mack, and that would be awwwwwwkward. Well, for me anyway. And yet I can't picture Ryter wanting to go to an Old Home Days thing, even if we do spend a lot of the time hanging out on the swings at the elementary school and chatting.
------------------------------------------------
Then Wednesday I spent the WHOLE DAY cleaning my house. I even washed the kitchen window, the hardest one to clean because it basically involves squatting in the sink and leaning backwards out the window with a bottle of glass cleaner and a paper towel and no means of support. The house is basically clean. If Shrewd doesn't mess it up too much, it will be clean for my folks to come home to, which is what I was hoping for-- last weekend Mummy complained bitterly about coming home to a filthy house, and all I could think was, You didn't say you were coming home today!
I should have gone to the gym. But I didn't. I've been really bad about that lately.
------------------------------------------------
Then yesterday I drove back to the Cape on my own, so that I would have a car. I've never driven that route before. It's two and a half hours and it's very boring when you haven't got anyone to talk to, and you can't fall asleep. Plus it goes through Boston and is kind of a stressful drive in parts. I kept myself alert and focused by playing the street sign alphabet game in my head. Remember that game? You have to find all the letters of the alphabet in order by reading street signs... yeah. Then I got to Z and started again with license plates, that was MUCH harder.
I was planning on going to the Chatham band concert tonight, but it rained so that wouldn't have been fun. Instead I crocheted and then Mummy and I visited with my great-aunt, I shared some family gossip Bisobrina had told me that I probably shouldn't have, then we went to a glass museum for a while before Daddy joined us and we all went to the Lobster Hut for dinner. Then I drove back here.
I'm a bit bummed. I wanted to see the band concert. But I can go when The Brother is back, he'll want to go too. He's still in California with his drum corps, but if they win the next competition, they'll win the big World Championship thing for their division. My mom is REALLY EXCITED. He comes back Sunday.
Meanwhile, I will continue to clean the house. Next task-- windows. Daddy promised me $200 if I do all of them except the ones holding air conditioners.
Monday night, after I got my last paycheck from the Discovery store, I went down to Cape Cod with my folks, saw Order of the Phoenix, and spent the night, because on Tuesday Ryter was coming down to join me, Mummy, Daddy, my great-aunt (the one who took me to the Revels), her significant other to whom she is not married, my grandfather, Shrewd, and Shrewd' s college friend Spaz, who I can actually call Spaz on here despite that ALSO being how I think of her in real life (she and my sister have the same name, Spaz is her nickname, etc) on account of it not being a REAL name. We were having our big annual lobstah feed.It could have been worse. My great aunt didn't interrogate Ryter nearly as bad as I had expected, and he made a good impression on my family for showing up, staying all the way until dessert, generally being personable and, in the case of my father, turning down that second glass of champagne. My aunt has voiced her approval. Plus we got to build a sandcastle-- Ryter is quite the accomplished sand-castle constructionist. And we got to scare the crap out of the teenage boy who didn't realize the architect was on the beach and thought it would be funny to destroy the thing.
Boy: YARGH! [kick, kick, jump, swipe]Ryter: [glowers]
Me: That's not very nice.
Boy: Oh, it's my castle, I made it.
Me: No, you didn't.
Boy: Yes I did!
Me: Uhm, no, he did. [points to Ryter]
Boy: [dawning horror and anticipation of a smack down, followed by frantic attempts to "fix it"]
It was pretty hilarious. Almost made up for the kid's assholery.
I think Ryter was expecting the park to be, like, overun with unwashed toddlers and hillbillies, so he was pleasantly surprised to find that it's not the sort of place trailer trash affords-- most people who go there are like my family, with enough money for a summer place but not enough for a full-sized cottage they can only visit for a few weeks and weekends. The problem was, what with it being a three and a half hour drive down from Durham, and his hamstrings acting up, it wasn't really a fun day for him-- I mean, he flatly stated that the only reason he was going was because it was important to me that he go.
I wish there was a way to make the experiences that are fun for me be fun for him, too. I like everything, anything he wants to do is usually fun for me, but the reverse is not so, and he's usually dealing with pain at the same time which makes things even more difficult. Basically thus far the only things I've suggested that he's been able to get enthusiastic about are making pizzas with weird toppings and going to the orchards in my hometown and stargazing (there's no ambient light, so the night sky is amazing on clear nights-- so amazing that last time we went we saw several shooting stars, clear as a bell). Most of my ideas he either tries and winds up disliking (the planetarium in Concord, for example), or KNOWS he won't like (hiking, or the Chatham band concert).
Vivacia wants to go to Old Home Days in our town, and see the fireworks, and she suggested I invite him, but I don't think I'll have much success. Unfortunately, if Ryter doesn't come along it looks right now like it will wind up being Vivacia, her boyfriend Closer, me, and my former boyfriend Mack, and that would be awwwwwwkward. Well, for me anyway. And yet I can't picture Ryter wanting to go to an Old Home Days thing, even if we do spend a lot of the time hanging out on the swings at the elementary school and chatting.Then Wednesday I spent the WHOLE DAY cleaning my house. I even washed the kitchen window, the hardest one to clean because it basically involves squatting in the sink and leaning backwards out the window with a bottle of glass cleaner and a paper towel and no means of support. The house is basically clean. If Shrewd doesn't mess it up too much, it will be clean for my folks to come home to, which is what I was hoping for-- last weekend Mummy complained bitterly about coming home to a filthy house, and all I could think was, You didn't say you were coming home today!
I should have gone to the gym. But I didn't. I've been really bad about that lately.
Then yesterday I drove back to the Cape on my own, so that I would have a car. I've never driven that route before. It's two and a half hours and it's very boring when you haven't got anyone to talk to, and you can't fall asleep. Plus it goes through Boston and is kind of a stressful drive in parts. I kept myself alert and focused by playing the street sign alphabet game in my head. Remember that game? You have to find all the letters of the alphabet in order by reading street signs... yeah. Then I got to Z and started again with license plates, that was MUCH harder.
I was planning on going to the Chatham band concert tonight, but it rained so that wouldn't have been fun. Instead I crocheted and then Mummy and I visited with my great-aunt, I shared some family gossip Bisobrina had told me that I probably shouldn't have, then we went to a glass museum for a while before Daddy joined us and we all went to the Lobster Hut for dinner. Then I drove back here. I'm a bit bummed. I wanted to see the band concert. But I can go when The Brother is back, he'll want to go too. He's still in California with his drum corps, but if they win the next competition, they'll win the big World Championship thing for their division. My mom is REALLY EXCITED. He comes back Sunday.
Meanwhile, I will continue to clean the house. Next task-- windows. Daddy promised me $200 if I do all of them except the ones holding air conditioners.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
My frustration knows no bounds.
So this morning I realized that I had left my purse in Ryter's car when he visited last night (that was fun, we made pizza and he was quite pleased when I told him "You can put anything on it" and even more so when I said, "Uh, sure, you can put crab meat on it..." Final result for me was mushrooms, black olives and smoked oysters. For Ryter, it was Mexican taco cheese, onions, goat's cheese, a little bit of cheddar, anchovies, and crab meat. And now it's his favorite kind of pizza...), and thus after the craziness that is working at a store with only ten days before it closes, my dad and mom took me up to his place, and once I procured the bag and Mummy met Jesus, Ryter's pet lizard (Hey-ZOOS, not JEE-sus), we all went to Newick's to get some dinner.
It actually went very well; Daddy seems to be warming up to Ryter and there was a lot of sci-fi talk, and then we got into talking about the 60's (Quote from my father: "We started in this one English class reading all this hippie literature, and then moved into Marxist doctrine...") and stuff like that. Then I bought Ryter some fudge at the gift shop and he bought me a stuffed lobster and we dropped him off at his apartment before heading home.
Now, a warning-- below this line is me angrily emoting for quite some time, so feel free to not read it.
---------------------------------------
The WHOLE way home, we were talking about Ryter; this was not my doing. It only started because my mom was wondering how anyone could afford to rent anymore if a studio apartment in Durham was $900. I pointed out that a) it's a very nice apartment and close to the school, b) his landlady is very lenient, and c) he's living alone, and most people starting out have roommates.
This diverged into why he doesn't have roommates, and it all went downhill from there.
The main thing in the conversation, though, was that Daddy's biggest problem with Ryter is one of the reasons that I love him so much-- he's very easy to read. He wears his emotions on his sleeve and I can tell exactly how he's feeling almost all the time, and he'll tell me why he's feeling that way. Thus, the fact that I have issues reading people's emotions isn't a problem, and I know when he's happy and relaxed and thus I can relax as well.
Daddy's problem with this-- "It's not a normal relationship, and it's not preparing you for future relationships where you WILL have to read people."
Uhm, excuse me?
I don't want a "normal" relationship, normal relationships are hard and one half is usually unhappy with the other, as far as I can tell. One of the reasons I love spending time with Ryter is that when I'm around him, I'm not constantly on edge or wondering what he's thinking about (it's usually aliens or paleontology), and I can actually relax and enjoy myself. I can feel safe in the relationship and not like I'm constantly wondering when he's going to dump me.
Guys who have "normal" relationships are usually jerks, and if they aren't jerks they're treated like shit by the girl, and if neither of them are jerks they never actually discuss or work out problems. I am happiest in my "abnormal" relationship, but my dad thinks it's something bad.
And then there's the bit about "preparing me for future relationships..." I do not consider this a training relationship. I'm not dating Ryter to learn or work on my people skills. I am dating him because I like to be with him. Will this be the only relationship I ever have? I don't know, I don't really think about it. If I have to, probably not. But I would never treat a guy like a "training boyfriend." This relationship has no obligation to prepare me for anything, and I'm actually really insulted that Daddy would think I am the kind of girl who would do that to a guy.
I mean, I've known those girls, and especially those guys, who have a first boyfriend or girlfriend so they can figure out the whole dating thing and then trade up. They're usually really bitchy and immature, and they wind up hurting that first significant other when they decide they've learned enough. I would never do that-- I date people because I like them, not because I think I'm not experienced enough and I want to learn the ins and outs of dealing with people.
And then there's the fact that Daddy is concerned that Ryter cares so much for me, and actually half-joked today, "So when you do break up with him, make sure you do it in a public place with your own ride home and you come straight home, lock the door, barricade yourself in your room and warn the police."
Because apparently I'm dating an ax murderer?
Honestly, I was so insulted and hurt by that one I really didn't know how to reply. How do you reply when your father tells you, even in a joking tone, that he's worried that your boyfriend would attack you if you ever broke up? I have NEVER been afraid of Ryter, not since the day I met him. Afraid he would dump me, yes, though he's good at allaying those fears. But afraid of him? Never. And yet every other week I'm desperately afraid that Daddy's gonna kill me for some little thing I screwed up. Of the two of them, Ryter and Daddy, I would honestly expect Daddy to hit me before Ryter did, and if you knew my father you would know how much that means.
(To be fair, I don't think Daddy dislikes Ryter as a person, I think he just doesn't like the dynamic of our relationship. Not that that's really all that much better. Oh, and my mom was asleep for most of this conversation, and didn't really say that much when she was awake.)
My parents come from a time when the lack of internet meant you didn't talk to your significant other every day unless you lived with them, so they see that Ryter and I talk all the time and they interpret it as "clingyness," despite the fact that I do it right back. They can't comprehend the idea that we might actually just genuinely like each other and trust each other and want to spend time together, because apparently, that's not a "normal" relationship.
So tell me-- why the hell would I WANT this elusive "normal" relationship???
And the Brother talks to his girlfriend every night he's home on the phone, not even the internet while doing other things-- WHY AREN'T THEY PESTERING HIM???
It actually went very well; Daddy seems to be warming up to Ryter and there was a lot of sci-fi talk, and then we got into talking about the 60's (Quote from my father: "We started in this one English class reading all this hippie literature, and then moved into Marxist doctrine...") and stuff like that. Then I bought Ryter some fudge at the gift shop and he bought me a stuffed lobster and we dropped him off at his apartment before heading home.
Now, a warning-- below this line is me angrily emoting for quite some time, so feel free to not read it.
The WHOLE way home, we were talking about Ryter; this was not my doing. It only started because my mom was wondering how anyone could afford to rent anymore if a studio apartment in Durham was $900. I pointed out that a) it's a very nice apartment and close to the school, b) his landlady is very lenient, and c) he's living alone, and most people starting out have roommates.
This diverged into why he doesn't have roommates, and it all went downhill from there.
The main thing in the conversation, though, was that Daddy's biggest problem with Ryter is one of the reasons that I love him so much-- he's very easy to read. He wears his emotions on his sleeve and I can tell exactly how he's feeling almost all the time, and he'll tell me why he's feeling that way. Thus, the fact that I have issues reading people's emotions isn't a problem, and I know when he's happy and relaxed and thus I can relax as well.
Daddy's problem with this-- "It's not a normal relationship, and it's not preparing you for future relationships where you WILL have to read people."
Uhm, excuse me?
I don't want a "normal" relationship, normal relationships are hard and one half is usually unhappy with the other, as far as I can tell. One of the reasons I love spending time with Ryter is that when I'm around him, I'm not constantly on edge or wondering what he's thinking about (it's usually aliens or paleontology), and I can actually relax and enjoy myself. I can feel safe in the relationship and not like I'm constantly wondering when he's going to dump me.
Guys who have "normal" relationships are usually jerks, and if they aren't jerks they're treated like shit by the girl, and if neither of them are jerks they never actually discuss or work out problems. I am happiest in my "abnormal" relationship, but my dad thinks it's something bad.
And then there's the bit about "preparing me for future relationships..." I do not consider this a training relationship. I'm not dating Ryter to learn or work on my people skills. I am dating him because I like to be with him. Will this be the only relationship I ever have? I don't know, I don't really think about it. If I have to, probably not. But I would never treat a guy like a "training boyfriend." This relationship has no obligation to prepare me for anything, and I'm actually really insulted that Daddy would think I am the kind of girl who would do that to a guy.
I mean, I've known those girls, and especially those guys, who have a first boyfriend or girlfriend so they can figure out the whole dating thing and then trade up. They're usually really bitchy and immature, and they wind up hurting that first significant other when they decide they've learned enough. I would never do that-- I date people because I like them, not because I think I'm not experienced enough and I want to learn the ins and outs of dealing with people.
And then there's the fact that Daddy is concerned that Ryter cares so much for me, and actually half-joked today, "So when you do break up with him, make sure you do it in a public place with your own ride home and you come straight home, lock the door, barricade yourself in your room and warn the police."
Because apparently I'm dating an ax murderer?
Honestly, I was so insulted and hurt by that one I really didn't know how to reply. How do you reply when your father tells you, even in a joking tone, that he's worried that your boyfriend would attack you if you ever broke up? I have NEVER been afraid of Ryter, not since the day I met him. Afraid he would dump me, yes, though he's good at allaying those fears. But afraid of him? Never. And yet every other week I'm desperately afraid that Daddy's gonna kill me for some little thing I screwed up. Of the two of them, Ryter and Daddy, I would honestly expect Daddy to hit me before Ryter did, and if you knew my father you would know how much that means.
(To be fair, I don't think Daddy dislikes Ryter as a person, I think he just doesn't like the dynamic of our relationship. Not that that's really all that much better. Oh, and my mom was asleep for most of this conversation, and didn't really say that much when she was awake.)
My parents come from a time when the lack of internet meant you didn't talk to your significant other every day unless you lived with them, so they see that Ryter and I talk all the time and they interpret it as "clingyness," despite the fact that I do it right back. They can't comprehend the idea that we might actually just genuinely like each other and trust each other and want to spend time together, because apparently, that's not a "normal" relationship.
So tell me-- why the hell would I WANT this elusive "normal" relationship???
And the Brother talks to his girlfriend every night he's home on the phone, not even the internet while doing other things-- WHY AREN'T THEY PESTERING HIM???
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
It's okay, I'm a flaming geek too
Thanks to E-Dog's Everything Page I have discovered a Simpsons website where you can make a Simpsons version of yourself. Thus, I created the following image of myself and Ryter:
Then I showed it to him, and he protested that I had "[made my]self hot and [made him] look like a huge flaming geek."
I pointed out that he was a huge flaming geek but decided to redo it anyway. Take two:
Actually, that is a bit closer to his body type, after a bit of photoshop manipulation. The first one makes him look like a leering teen, like he's about to grab my boobs. The second is more "sexy heavy-metal rocker dude" and less "high schooler with a mouth-breathing problem." And I changed myself a bit too. Oh, and yes, this is as close as I will get to posting an actual picture of us...
Still want votes on the new blog layout!
Then I showed it to him, and he protested that I had "[made my]self hot and [made him] look like a huge flaming geek."
I pointed out that he was a huge flaming geek but decided to redo it anyway. Take two:
Actually, that is a bit closer to his body type, after a bit of photoshop manipulation. The first one makes him look like a leering teen, like he's about to grab my boobs. The second is more "sexy heavy-metal rocker dude" and less "high schooler with a mouth-breathing problem." And I changed myself a bit too. Oh, and yes, this is as close as I will get to posting an actual picture of us...
Still want votes on the new blog layout!
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
But Yesterday Was Better
Happy Fourth, all.
Today was the day when I finally thrust Ryter headfirst into meeting the fambly. Extended family, that is, though he spent more time than ever before with my dad and he very very briefly met the Brother.
Every Fourth of July, my uncle, who was born on the first, has a big birthday/Independence Day party. It's like ideal for him because he's really into American history and especially the Revolutionary War. The birthday fact might have lead to the liking history fact, but who knows. Anyway, my uncle is an avid beachcomber/yard sale aficionado/junk collector and his house reflects that, much to the chagrin of my aunt (father's sister). But they have this big party and everyone comes, and we go every year and see the same people we see at the New Year's brunch. This year, my aunt said I could invite my boyfriend, more as a "Let's see who [Basiorana] is dating!" than a "Maybe she'd like to invite him!"
But the thing is, it worked out really well, because Ryter can't stay at a social function, especially with people he needs to censor himself around, for very long, and to be perfectly honest, as much as I like to see people, I really prefer to stay like three hours, max. When I'm there I say hi to people and talk to relatives if they talk to me, but I can only answer "So, how's school?" fifteen times before my head explodes. So it meant that we brought Shrewd down, we could leave her there to return with the 'rents and head back ourselves. And Ryter did very well, especially since it was like 25 people and I know maybe ten names.
He talked with my aunt about schools (my aunt's a high school guidance counselor) and to my uncle about historical fiction and the other stuff he's writing, and to my mom about the Shadowrun game we're playing (yes, I'm playing a role-playing game with dice and everything, don't laugh, it's pretty cool) and role-playing, Dungeons and Dragons-type games in general. Then it got later, we got ready to leave, and there was an incident with a cookie that resulted in an emergency run down to the nearest Brooks (luckily, that wasn't very far) for some Benadryl. Nuts.
But he was okay, he just kind of felt crappy and his face got a little puffy. The swelling was down by the time we got back here. He promises he'll recover. I just feel really, really bad, mostly about the fact that it took so long for me to get out of there and head down to the Brooks with him-- but I really needed to say good-bye, at least to my grandfather, aunt and uncle, and my folks, who would have wondered where the heck I was.
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I had to abandon him here, though, to go pick up my brother, who just got back from a week-long tour with his drum corps. He's just back for one night. On the way back I learned that he was most looking forward to showering on his own, after a week of group showers, or at least tripling up with other guys.
Ew.
He's also so much darker than he was when he left that I swear he must have secretly changed races on me. And they gave him a name: [The Brother] Of-The-Pit. Also, With-The-Rubix-Cube. That's how they identify him: [his name] Of-The-Pit, With-The-Rubix-Cube. Shrewd says "The Pit" is his tribe. I'm not so sure.
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The Brother went to shower alone while Ryter and I hung out and then, once the rest of the family returned, set off half a metric assload of fireworks from a bucket of sand in the street. We didn't destroy anything and the lawn only started smoking once, but it was cool anyway. I love New Hampshire-- this was totally legal...
Plus we have leftovers to launch some other time, probably from a beach somewhere. That will be awesomeness.
We went out to the 99 with my parents and Shrewd afterwards, so my dad finally will stop saying how he doesn't know this strange boy I'm seeing.
My mom and Ryter talked a great deal of the time. My mom really likes Ryter; they have a ton in common with the sci-fi love and more importantly, he can articulate himself and isn't afraid of her just because she's my mom like the Brother's girlfriend seems to be most of the time. She thinks he's awesome.
My dad's final verdict? "He's moving so fast that he's got about five minutes left to live, and he'll get more done in those five minutes than most people ever get around to. He's very high-energy. But he seems like a nice enough guy, and he wins serious points for winning over your mom so completely." I think this was very, very comforting to Ryter-- Daddy tends to be intimidating, even if you don't know him.
But it went well, it all went well. He made an excellent impression. It was a pretty good day.
Today was the day when I finally thrust Ryter headfirst into meeting the fambly. Extended family, that is, though he spent more time than ever before with my dad and he very very briefly met the Brother.
Every Fourth of July, my uncle, who was born on the first, has a big birthday/Independence Day party. It's like ideal for him because he's really into American history and especially the Revolutionary War. The birthday fact might have lead to the liking history fact, but who knows. Anyway, my uncle is an avid beachcomber/yard sale aficionado/junk collector and his house reflects that, much to the chagrin of my aunt (father's sister). But they have this big party and everyone comes, and we go every year and see the same people we see at the New Year's brunch. This year, my aunt said I could invite my boyfriend, more as a "Let's see who [Basiorana] is dating!" than a "Maybe she'd like to invite him!"But the thing is, it worked out really well, because Ryter can't stay at a social function, especially with people he needs to censor himself around, for very long, and to be perfectly honest, as much as I like to see people, I really prefer to stay like three hours, max. When I'm there I say hi to people and talk to relatives if they talk to me, but I can only answer "So, how's school?" fifteen times before my head explodes. So it meant that we brought Shrewd down, we could leave her there to return with the 'rents and head back ourselves. And Ryter did very well, especially since it was like 25 people and I know maybe ten names.
He talked with my aunt about schools (my aunt's a high school guidance counselor) and to my uncle about historical fiction and the other stuff he's writing, and to my mom about the Shadowrun game we're playing (yes, I'm playing a role-playing game with dice and everything, don't laugh, it's pretty cool) and role-playing, Dungeons and Dragons-type games in general. Then it got later, we got ready to leave, and there was an incident with a cookie that resulted in an emergency run down to the nearest Brooks (luckily, that wasn't very far) for some Benadryl. Nuts. But he was okay, he just kind of felt crappy and his face got a little puffy. The swelling was down by the time we got back here. He promises he'll recover. I just feel really, really bad, mostly about the fact that it took so long for me to get out of there and head down to the Brooks with him-- but I really needed to say good-bye, at least to my grandfather, aunt and uncle, and my folks, who would have wondered where the heck I was.
I had to abandon him here, though, to go pick up my brother, who just got back from a week-long tour with his drum corps. He's just back for one night. On the way back I learned that he was most looking forward to showering on his own, after a week of group showers, or at least tripling up with other guys.
Ew.
He's also so much darker than he was when he left that I swear he must have secretly changed races on me. And they gave him a name: [The Brother] Of-The-Pit. Also, With-The-Rubix-Cube. That's how they identify him: [his name] Of-The-Pit, With-The-Rubix-Cube. Shrewd says "The Pit" is his tribe. I'm not so sure.
The Brother went to shower alone while Ryter and I hung out and then, once the rest of the family returned, set off half a metric assload of fireworks from a bucket of sand in the street. We didn't destroy anything and the lawn only started smoking once, but it was cool anyway. I love New Hampshire-- this was totally legal... Plus we have leftovers to launch some other time, probably from a beach somewhere. That will be awesomeness.
We went out to the 99 with my parents and Shrewd afterwards, so my dad finally will stop saying how he doesn't know this strange boy I'm seeing.
My mom and Ryter talked a great deal of the time. My mom really likes Ryter; they have a ton in common with the sci-fi love and more importantly, he can articulate himself and isn't afraid of her just because she's my mom like the Brother's girlfriend seems to be most of the time. She thinks he's awesome.
My dad's final verdict? "He's moving so fast that he's got about five minutes left to live, and he'll get more done in those five minutes than most people ever get around to. He's very high-energy. But he seems like a nice enough guy, and he wins serious points for winning over your mom so completely." I think this was very, very comforting to Ryter-- Daddy tends to be intimidating, even if you don't know him.But it went well, it all went well. He made an excellent impression. It was a pretty good day.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
I owe my mom like $500 right now.
Today is the Quinquatrus Minores, a festival sacred to Minerva/Athena of the Flute-players. On this day the tibicines, flute-players, went through the city in a procession that ended at the Temple of Minerva.
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Yesterday was Ryter's birthday, so I headed up to visit him, complete with my gift of wood for Jesus (his lizard, not the Messiah. You know, the name hay-ZOOS works better when you're talking than writing). The gift was technically for Ryter but Jesus was the one who would benefit from it.
The lizard's very cute. He's spiky and looks grumpy lots of the time but cute-grumpy and he's very gentle, peaceful, and friendly, and he seems to really like Ryter. He eats right out of his hand already.
I also gave Ryter cupcakes that spelled out "Happy Birthday" because this one time we were talking about birthdays at school as a kid, and he mentioned that he never got to have cupcakes with his classmates because he has a summer birthday. So I decided that while I was not going to be able to provide him a chance to eat cupcakes with snot-nosed youngsters, that was probably for the best anyway and eating cupcakes with Loquelo, Nonaestima, me, and a bearded dragon observer was probably just as good if not better.
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Today was my first day of work. It was okay, but a little boring. There was the obligatory awkward sexual harassment video, followed by a short film on How To Be An Obnoxious Salesperson. Then they stuck me out on the floor and said I was to greet people, assist as needed, try to push the stuff, and meanwhile look around and try to memorize the contents of the store.
But hey, eight bucks an hour, and the other people working there seem really nice, and I do know the merchandise there pretty well, since every time I went to the mall for job applications I stopped in, and my manager actually said I looked familiar, which was both interesting and kinda sad. Okay, really sad. Really, really, really...
Yesterday was Ryter's birthday, so I headed up to visit him, complete with my gift of wood for Jesus (his lizard, not the Messiah. You know, the name hay-ZOOS works better when you're talking than writing). The gift was technically for Ryter but Jesus was the one who would benefit from it.The lizard's very cute. He's spiky and looks grumpy lots of the time but cute-grumpy and he's very gentle, peaceful, and friendly, and he seems to really like Ryter. He eats right out of his hand already.
I also gave Ryter cupcakes that spelled out "Happy Birthday" because this one time we were talking about birthdays at school as a kid, and he mentioned that he never got to have cupcakes with his classmates because he has a summer birthday. So I decided that while I was not going to be able to provide him a chance to eat cupcakes with snot-nosed youngsters, that was probably for the best anyway and eating cupcakes with Loquelo, Nonaestima, me, and a bearded dragon observer was probably just as good if not better.Today was my first day of work. It was okay, but a little boring. There was the obligatory awkward sexual harassment video, followed by a short film on How To Be An Obnoxious Salesperson. Then they stuck me out on the floor and said I was to greet people, assist as needed, try to push the stuff, and meanwhile look around and try to memorize the contents of the store.
But hey, eight bucks an hour, and the other people working there seem really nice, and I do know the merchandise there pretty well, since every time I went to the mall for job applications I stopped in, and my manager actually said I looked familiar, which was both interesting and kinda sad. Okay, really sad. Really, really, really...
Monday, May 21, 2007
"The Best Advice: Call Your Mother"
200th POST! WOOOOOOO! Okay, celebration over.
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Wow. What a weekend.
So Friday was the Convocation, and Saturday was the actual graduation for UNH. We didn't go, though; instead Ryter got dressed up in his cap and gown and we watched the graduation from his mother's hotel suite. We woke up when his favorite professor came by to apologize and say he couldn't go, and then we drove over and were treated to an excellent hotel breakfast followed by second breakfasts upstairs, delivered by his dad along with his father's father. So his mom, his mother's mother, his dad, his father's father, and his aunt for good measure all sat around the big TV and ate bagels as we watched the graduation.
H.W. Bush and Bill Clinton spoke, which was kinda cool. There were secret service agents everywhere. Apparently the interim president of UNH is a friend of Bush Sr., so she was able to get him to come. Clinton had to rush off to talk at Harvard after he spoke, though.
Anyway, after the graduation we all went back to Ryter's apartment for the graduation party, for which his parents brought basically enough sustenance for an army of teenage boys. There was a ridiculous amount of food there, and my pies were a hit, thankfully- I was worried that they weren't going to live up to the hype. Ryter did a shot with his dad and there were lots of photo ops.
After they left we just hung out for a while until Loquelo came over with his roommate and we played a board game and chilled until 10, when I headed home. I was tired driving home, which was bad, but I got here safely.
Then this morning I was roused early to go to Shrewd's graduation down at Brandeis. Grandpa, Grammy, my great-aunt, and Mummy and Daddy were all there; but with Grandpa in his wheelchair (he can walk, but not for distances and he can't stand a long time) and my great-aunt with her walker, we were a slow-moving group. I sat with Daddy in the non-handicap seats, up in the bleachers. I couldn't spot Shrewd in the crowd of graduates but we did see her when they plastered her face up on the big display screen.
The speaker was good, but I didn't recognize him, and apparently he's a part-time professor there so not particularly special for the graduates. The only reason he was speaking was because the previously booked speaker, a famous journalist, passed away a few weeks ago. Still, he did a very good job and I even stayed awake. The Benediction was particularly nice, as it was given jointly by the campus priest, rabbi, reverend and imam.
Afterwards we were given about an hour to get out, do a ten-minute walk over to the second, departmental graduation ceremony. Alas, it took forty-five minutes to just get out of the building, and we got separated-- Grandpa, Grammy, Daddy and I got there on time and saw it from the beginning but Mummy and my aunt were late. They still saw Shrewd walk up to get her diploma, though.
After a celebration at Bertucci's, they all went home and I stayed behind with Shrewd to help her pack-- she hadn't even started. That's what we're doing tomorrow, too-- going back and clearing out her place. Fabulous, no? I am so exhausted right now...
Wow. What a weekend.
So Friday was the Convocation, and Saturday was the actual graduation for UNH. We didn't go, though; instead Ryter got dressed up in his cap and gown and we watched the graduation from his mother's hotel suite. We woke up when his favorite professor came by to apologize and say he couldn't go, and then we drove over and were treated to an excellent hotel breakfast followed by second breakfasts upstairs, delivered by his dad along with his father's father. So his mom, his mother's mother, his dad, his father's father, and his aunt for good measure all sat around the big TV and ate bagels as we watched the graduation.
H.W. Bush and Bill Clinton spoke, which was kinda cool. There were secret service agents everywhere. Apparently the interim president of UNH is a friend of Bush Sr., so she was able to get him to come. Clinton had to rush off to talk at Harvard after he spoke, though.
Anyway, after the graduation we all went back to Ryter's apartment for the graduation party, for which his parents brought basically enough sustenance for an army of teenage boys. There was a ridiculous amount of food there, and my pies were a hit, thankfully- I was worried that they weren't going to live up to the hype. Ryter did a shot with his dad and there were lots of photo ops.
After they left we just hung out for a while until Loquelo came over with his roommate and we played a board game and chilled until 10, when I headed home. I was tired driving home, which was bad, but I got here safely.
Then this morning I was roused early to go to Shrewd's graduation down at Brandeis. Grandpa, Grammy, my great-aunt, and Mummy and Daddy were all there; but with Grandpa in his wheelchair (he can walk, but not for distances and he can't stand a long time) and my great-aunt with her walker, we were a slow-moving group. I sat with Daddy in the non-handicap seats, up in the bleachers. I couldn't spot Shrewd in the crowd of graduates but we did see her when they plastered her face up on the big display screen.
The speaker was good, but I didn't recognize him, and apparently he's a part-time professor there so not particularly special for the graduates. The only reason he was speaking was because the previously booked speaker, a famous journalist, passed away a few weeks ago. Still, he did a very good job and I even stayed awake. The Benediction was particularly nice, as it was given jointly by the campus priest, rabbi, reverend and imam.
Afterwards we were given about an hour to get out, do a ten-minute walk over to the second, departmental graduation ceremony. Alas, it took forty-five minutes to just get out of the building, and we got separated-- Grandpa, Grammy, Daddy and I got there on time and saw it from the beginning but Mummy and my aunt were late. They still saw Shrewd walk up to get her diploma, though.
After a celebration at Bertucci's, they all went home and I stayed behind with Shrewd to help her pack-- she hadn't even started. That's what we're doing tomorrow, too-- going back and clearing out her place. Fabulous, no? I am so exhausted right now...
Friday, May 11, 2007
*Changes Original Headline*
Second day of the Lemuria.
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I took my Bio test today. I don't know how I did. I then discovered that I didn't have to take the Chem test tomorrow after all-- next Wednesday will be fine. This was good because it means that I'm back to my original plan, and bring a bunch of stuff home this weekend but come back next week, probably with a car.
And the fact that I didn't have the exam tomorrow meant that I was able to go visit Ryter today, which was good as he was feeling kinda down. I was pretty unhelpful but at least he wasn't alone.
Now it's late and I need sleep, I have much packing to do tomorrow...
I took my Bio test today. I don't know how I did. I then discovered that I didn't have to take the Chem test tomorrow after all-- next Wednesday will be fine. This was good because it means that I'm back to my original plan, and bring a bunch of stuff home this weekend but come back next week, probably with a car.
And the fact that I didn't have the exam tomorrow meant that I was able to go visit Ryter today, which was good as he was feeling kinda down. I was pretty unhelpful but at least he wasn't alone.
Now it's late and I need sleep, I have much packing to do tomorrow...
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