Christmas Decompression

I'm one of those people who likes Christmas, as long as it's contained in the appropriate time frame. What I mean is, I hate when Christmas gets cheapened by department stores putting up displays and gifts after (or even before) Halloween. I'm a "one holiday at a time" kind of girl-- that way, I can stay focused. Or something like that.

I listened to Christmas music almost all day, every day when one of the stations dropped its normal soft rock rotation for a 24/7 holiday blitz. I came to realize that I really dislike The Little Drummer Boy and that I really like the classic version of Here Comes Santa Claus. I also came to realize that there are too many of us who believe that Christmas is ruined if a gift is out of stock or doesn't arrive in time.

I'm not sure if I ever felt dependent on a must-have gift on my Christmas list. I have many "would absolutely love you forever if you got this for me" items, don't get me wrong, and maybe it's just part of being grown-up, but I'd much rather spend time baking or eating food or playing cards or going on sleigh rides.

And even though I love getting in the Christmas spirit, I wasn't bummed that my parents' house wasn't bursting at the seams with decorations. My mom apologized to me at one point, and I told her that it meant much more just to be home for the holiday. She also apologized for us not having that many presents, but it's hard to get sheer volume under the tree when several things are true: 1. It's only my mom, dad, and me in our household, and 2. Our wishlists are fairly concise (and sometimes boring).

Anyway, I suppose what I'm trying to say is, yeah, toys are great, but time with family and friends make my holidays now. I spent a full day with my parents and our family friends, then spent the day after Christmas with my boyfriend and his family. His family usually celebrates Christmas near my hometown, which works out quite nicely.

Cameron took me on a sleigh ride while I was up in Leavenworth, and that was great. We glided across the snowy (yes, even though it was icy, old snow, it still counts) ground, with bells jingling on the horses and afternoon sunshine peeking over the mountains. I'd say it was picturesque, but more so than that, it was a very eastern Washington winter day.

Even more awesome: there were several cute dogs running around at the sleigh riding place, and I got to pet all of them. Yes, that's a highlight. Oh, and the hot cider. That was tasty, too.

But all good things come to an end. My bus ride home was miserable. The heat was on too high, and everyone around me smelled awful-- bad breath, unshowered, whatever it was, it was enough to give me a headache. It's enough to make me never want to travel during peak times again.

I also learned that you should always listen to your mother. Once I told her I was safe back in Seattle, she told me to get some rest. I instead decided to wash the dishes. Well, that ended poorly-- I broke another glass (third one in a week) and cut my arm on a shard. It was deep enough for me to call Cameron and ask him, "So... at what point does a person need to get stitches?" It wasn't bad enough for that, but it's probably the worst cut I've had in recent memory.

To top it off, all I wanted to do tonight was watch Up (thanks, Cammie, for the DVD) and drink hot cocoa. I saved enough milk for cereal tomorrow and poured a bunch into a mug. As my clumsiness would have it, I knocked over the mug when I got it out of the microwave. I spent the next while cleaning up the table (and floor) and microwave, and then I decided I was going to give up for now.

So, here I am. Decompressing from the holiday cheer and the bummer of a day today was. At least this coming week is a short one for me-- one of my best friends is getting married, and I'm a bridesmaid. It will be my first time as a bridesmaid since I was in 8th grade.

For now, take it easy. I'm off to hopefully not destroy everything I touch.

Cold & Flu Season 2009

Let me make it clear that when I'm sick, I can't tell if I'm hungry or full or anything.

I also realized that Chinese food is my chicken noodle soup. Every time I get a cold, I get Chinese take-out. It seems to help. Oh, Mongolian beef and fried rice, you are too good to me.

Lessons from Wednesday

I learned a few more lessons today.

First, I am not above throwing a tantrum when something goes wrong. Let me explain.

The other day, the hot water went out in our kitchen sink. There was no hot water pressure at all. The hot water in the bathroom, however, was unaffected, so it was more of an inconvenience than anything else. When I got home from work, though, the hot water pressure suddenly came back on-- and then the water started running reddish-brown. Yuck.

So, the next day, I got a hold of our landlord. He went over to our apartment and seemingly fixed the problem. The rest of the night, we had hot water in the kitchen.

This morning, the hot water pressure was off again. But when I got back to the apartment after work, the sink was running and the water was running warm.

Hooray!I thought to myself. Our landlord followed up on the problem!


I decided I would get a glass of water, make dinner, and maybe do the dishes. So, I turned the sink on all the way, got my glass of water, and shut off the sink.

But the water was still running at full blast.

No matter which position the handle was in, the water was at full pressure, and it was either hot or warm. Great.

Called our landlord. Left a message. Freaked out. Stomped around, and even jumped up and down several times, whining, "Whyyyyy are you doing this?!"

Called Roto-Rooter. They're completely booked because all the pipes are freezing in western Washington. Stomp stomp stomp. Whine whine whine.

Tried the emergency valve under the sink. It was stuck. Called our landlord again. No answer. Freak out more.

I finally got the valve to turn, after maybe 10 minutes of nearly ripping my hand apart. Even now, the water's still running about half power. (Or whatever you want to call it.)

The only reason I believe I didn't start crying with panic was because I bawled on the way home from shopping, listening to the stupid Christmas music station. They played a really great song, about a girl named Maria and a bird with a broken wing, okay?

Okay, so I throw tantrums and cry during random Christmas songs.

What else did I learn today?

I learned that I am much more of a methodical shopper than I was even a few months ago. Even with a list of what I wanted to get my friends and family, I still spent a great deal of time evaluating each choice.

I started out at Barnes & Noble, and I honestly could buy thousands and thousands of dollars worth of stuff from there. There was a book on how to tie knots, mini penguin bowling sets, a book about Filipinos in the Puget Sound region, classics on sale, and tons of new fiction. I wasn't shopping for myself, though, so that ruled out most of those items. Instead, I thought about what kind of present I could get for my dad, my godson, and several friends. I came away with some quality items, but that was only after I picked up a bunch of different things, walked around with them, then decided they weren't right for the recipients.

I spent about 30 minutes in a store as big as my living room. It was the shop where I had planned on buying cute and funny gifts for several of my friends. But there was nothing in the shop that meant anything. Sure, the items would be cute and funny for a few days, but then they would probably end up on a shelf or in a closet somewhere, taking up space. That's not how my friendship should be represented, right? I came away with nothing during that round.

Taking just those two situations into account, I can tell I've grown in some ways. I'm trying to unclutter my own life while making sure I don't clutter others' with plain old stuff. I want whatever I give my friends and family to be meaningful.

And you know what?

I think it's entirely possible this year.

Checklist

One more grad school app submitted. Or, 1/2 of a grad school app submitted: the part they make you pay $$$ for. $85, to be exact. Yikes.

We'll see how the rest of this application blitz goes.

For now, I've got to get to bed. Goodnight!

Be Gone, Twenty-Three!

Today, December 3, is my 24th birthday. With that, I say good riddance to being 23.

Here's to hoping that 24 is full of adventure and personal growth!

Relevant to My Interests

I worked all day today. Got up early and caught the ferry. I mean, I got up at 4AM early to make sure I beat any and all ferry lines. Lucky for me, there were maybe 10 vehicles on the ferry that left shortly after 5AM. I guess I was successful, but after reaching Mukilteo, I had to find a way to keep myself occupied for an hour and a half while it was still dark out. I settled on coffee at Starbucks.

I'm leaving soon and going back to Whidbey for the weekend. I love hanging out on that island.

It's Thanksgiving!

Ah yes, the holiday that was commissioned so that there would be a national holiday in fall. I'm not saying I don't appreciate it. I do love Thanksgiving.

However, I decided early this morning that a fun way to celebrate Thanksgiving would be to have a different type of meal every year. Like one year, take everyone out for dim sum. The next year, have a traditional Italian spread. The next year, a Filipino fiesta!

Why?

Because Thanksgiving can mean whatever you want it to mean. My mom, dad, and I celebrated one year with steak. That was the one of the most memorable Thanksgivings in my lifetime.

Of course, we tend to have small Thanksgivings; usually, the highlight is going shopping with my mom the next day. I like to do that because we get to spend time together and we get good deals on my birthday presents. It's strategery at its finest.

Anyway, this year I am celebrating at my boyfriend's mom's house. I work early tomorrow, and that's okay. I'll hopefully save some money that way, right?

Okay, well, I'm thankful for the changes that have happened recently in my life. I'm thankful for my family and friends. And I'm thankful that it's my birthday next week. ;)

Dith in a Box

I don't like being defined.

Lately, I feel as if I'm stuck in a glass box. Everything I want is right there, but I just can't reach it. I'm stuck in some sort of invisible limits.

And it sucks. Totally sucks.

I would elaborate more, but instead, I'm going to let it go for now. I have an apple streusel muffin sitting next to me, and Thanksgiving is tomorrow. I can brood tomorrow night when I'm in a food-induced coma.

Just a quick one.

Last night, after I said goodbye to my boyfriend for the weekend, I happily drove to my apartment.

Happily, because I live in a city where I know people, and where I can be an independent, young person.

What an improvement.

Daydreams

Today is a lazy Sunday. I tackled a 12-egg omelette with a friend today, and I'm still in a food coma. That's alright. The tasks I need to take care of are mostly Internet-based.

I'm still feeling restless. There is so much I need to do. Beyond my work routine, I need to somehow force myself back into the gym and back into the dance studio. I'm also pushing myself to read more books and write more. Along with that, I'm also trying to get 7 graduate school applications done. Truth be told, it's only 6 since I turned in one to Seattle University already.

I'm restless because I want to know where I will be next year. I want to be focusing on my career, and I want to be doing whatever I can to make sure I'm enriching my experiences with adventures. I'm also trying to do all this while saving money. I've been selling books, collecting clothing to sell, and looking half-heartedly for a second job. And to top it off, I'm stressed out about where Cameron will end up after he graduates.

I blame all my stress on my moment of clarity, though. If I had never been driving on Highway 2, just outside of Cashmere, as the sun set during an early autumn evening, none of this would matter. I would be wrestling with which business path I wanted to pursue, and which suburb I would be moving to (actually, which suburb I would have been living in right now).

But no. I just had to go and suddenly realize where I belong in life.

It's too bad that moment didn't give me a clear-cut path for getting there.

Anyway. I'm going to finish up some essay questions, drink some ginger ale (totally organic and totally delicious), and fantasize about the places I want to go.

Just Calm Down

Sometimes, I forget that I'm a big girl now, and like another blogger said, I have to schedule my hang-out times with my friends.

And that means I need to start being the person who actually texts and calls.

Old habits die hard, but I'll get into the swing of things. Right? Sure.

Last night, though, I was also reminded that I can still go on adventures. Three of us decided-- while eating ice cream-- that more ice cream was necessary. Specifically, they wanted peppermint shakes.

Tip: Baskin-Robbins is usually open late enough to cover your "I need ice cream, and vanilla won't do" cravings.

Kate's Missed Point

Kathleen thinks I should mention her more in my blog.

Unfortunately, that type of request comes with the prerequisite (that word just took me 7 or 8 attempts) of fitting into this jumble I call my quarter-life crisis. Since I didn't enlighten anyone with my wisdom tooth adventure-- and let's face it, how enlightening is 4 days on the couch, watching Man v. Food and popping pills?-- I will entertain my readers (all...3... of you) with an introspective piece about my friends.

Also, my Vicodin just kicked in.

Let's start with my high school friends. We knew each other through several different paths, whether it be through biology or band classes, through a friend who was dating a dude in a group from another school, or even from chance encounters, like sharing the same birthday.

Today, I know that most of those friends are still there for me, even though they're scattered here and there-- some back in Wenatchee, some in different states, and some even in different countries. I know who my best friends are, too, because we can pick up our friendship like we never spent weeks or years without seeing each other. The technology called social media helps alleviate the distance, but it doesn't remedy the distance.

My parents always worried that I was friends with too many boys and that I would never have a good group of girlfriends from back home. Well, I'm happy that I do have a group of friends who share silly memories from high school: Kate, Tanja, Cara, and Beth. I'm not discounting any of my other friendships, but it's good to have those girls as best friends. I also can't believe that three of them are getting married in 2010. Anyway.

To add to that, not only do I have wonderful friends from my hometown, I met amazing people in college. What would I do without Erin, Ari, Ashley, Kili, Victor, Joe, Cameron, etc.?

Actually, I know what happens when I can't be around my friends as much as I want: everything goes haywire. Last year was by far the most bleak and depressing year on file for me. I don't like to dread going back to the city in which I live, and I don't like living alone. I don't like only have phone or online contact with people. I don't even like to inundate my blogs with terrible poetry.

I made the right choice in moving to Seattle. I can deal with a commute, as long as it means I'm closer to several friends. It doesn't make me closer to all, and it makes me further from some, but it's okay. I feel alive again.

My roommate Heidi and I just walked down to Cupcake Royale and had warm drinks and apple caramel cupcakes. That was something so simple, but I value things like that much more now after experiencing near rock-bottom last year.

Anyway, I could go on and on and on about how great my friends are. But instead, I think I'll get ready for bed and take an extended Vicodin nap.

Also, Erin, I'm going to go to Spain, one way or another.

Also, Kate, you're a face.

...this whole post wasn't too trite was it?

Wisdom Tooth Adventure

I'm back in Seattle after spending Thursday night til this afternoon in East Wenatchee. I had all four wisdom teeth taken out, and whoo-boy, was that fun.

I got laughing gas for the first time ever. I tried really hard to continue to make sense while the nurses prepped me and talked to me. I think I did an okay job, although I might have lost them when I started to talk about the multi-line phone program I have at work. They also gave me an anti-nausea medication through the IV, so there was no puking-- thanks, Cameron, for that scare. So, that was nice.

Back to the laughing gas.

I didn't think I was getting terribly sleepy or light-headed until all of the nurses, except one, left the room. Have you ever been taking a test and suddenly remembered something absolutely hilarious? And you obviously weren't in a setting where you could tell someone else what was funny or even laugh out loud? That was the feeling I got, only there was no joke or specific incident. I controlled myself enough not to burst out laughing or tell the nurse that something (and I don't know what) was really funny.

After that, I think I just closed my eyes and fell asleep for most of the procedure. The doctor, Dr. Collins, told me beforehand that even if I woke up, I would be in a place where I didn't care what was happening. I was skeptical, but it proved true. I woke up somewhere between the second or third tooth, and I was aware of everyone talking and some poking and prodding going on. I don't remember many specifics because, like the doctor said, I just didn't care. I couldn't feel anything anyway.

I do recall the crew moving on to the final tooth: the sideways impacted lower left tooth. I remember some noise and prodding, and then the doctor saying, "...we're going to have to go in at a different angle." Thanks, tooth. When I looked in the mirror later in the afternoon, I noticed the left corner of my lip was busted up. I wonder why.

After the procedure, most of the operating team left. They took me off the gas, and I slowly regained consciousness (uh, sort of). The entire time, soothing piano music was playing, so it was kind of like I woke up during a dream sequence (that doesn't make sense, but whatever). When I left the office, a nurse and my 90-year-old father helped me out the door (that's just funny).

I spent the next several hours unable to talk, since the entire lower half of my mouth was numb. I watched Pirates of the Caribbean and tried to drink some juice. I say "tried" because the first attempt ended with half the juice on my sweatshirt. The rest of the day went like this: ice, couch, mashed potatoes, and TV.

Saturday went more like this: Vicodin, TV, 5-hour nap, and hang-out time with Tanja. We got DQ Blizzards (om nom nom), went to Hastings and Macy's, and got some potato snacks at Shari's. I chose potato pancakes; she got baked potato skins. Yay for carbs.

Sunday was a bit more exciting. I went to Old Navy and Target with my mom, and I picked up some new shirts and a set of flannel sheets. Score! Then I plopped down on the couch and watched the all-day Man v. Food marathon.

Yesterday, I watched more TV (duh) and eventually drove myself to Wenatchee. I went to Kinko's and finished copying some material for grad school applications. Afterward, I tried a new restaurant, Spring Lotus, because I was craving pho. It was excellent, and I drove home with warm soup belly (HIMYM fans, you feel me on that one?).

That brings me to today. Went to a post-op check-up, took a nap, packed up, and got on the bus back to the west side. I apparently conked out somewhere before Stevens Pass and woke up in Gold Bar. Then I drove home to Seattle and did some grocery shopping. Mundane, but necessary.

Anyway. It's time for soup and mashed potatoes. And ice cream. Oh, how I love thee, ice cream.

Moral of the story: Painkillers make me sleepy. And I love potatoes. Is that good enough? I have no insight for you, sorry.

You Can Stand Under My Umbrella

...now that I own one.

Nothing like going to Target with the roomie, buying cheap Cracklin' Oat Bran, and buying an awesome new umbrella. I think I said, "Look! I can sling it over my shoulder! I can use it as a cane!" repeatedly. Awe. Some.

Anyway, back to work. I just wanted to share.

Lesson Learned

Today was unremarkable. I had one thing to look forward to, and that was a book club meeting. It was a chance to meet new potential friends and start getting back into reading.

Small problem, though. I'm not good at taking the bus yet, and I didn't want to pay for a cab. I tried to drive to the meeting spot, and subsequently ended up driving around for half an hour. There were pay parking spots, cash only, for $4. I had $3. Boo.

Case in point, I missed my book club. On the upside, one of the girls should be e-mailing me with any choices they make as far as books and/or meeting times. But seriously, lame night.

I registered for an ORCA card and a library card, though. I suppose that's good.

Oh, also, I can push forward on graduate school applications because I took the GRE. Hooray!

Sunny Day Real Estate w/ The Jealous Sound

I bought tickets to the SDRE show the day they went on sale. How could I miss this reunion tour? And how could I miss a show at The Paramount in Seattle, SDRE's hometown? (Honestly, though, it passed me that they were a Seattle band for years and years.)

Anyway, I'll make this short. The concert was better than I hoped for. The opening band was really good, and I ended up in the front row. That last part surprised me-- Kyle and I had to slog through Everett-Seattle traffic after I got done at work, and I was sure we were running late. Guess not, though; the GA floor was still really open when we arrived at 8 or so.

One other aspect that made me smile: There were two girls who were standing in front of me for most of the first band's set, and they were both 5'1" or under. That never happens to me. Everyone who stands in front of me at concerts is at least tall enough to shove their mid-spine into my nose.

Regardless, the music was great, and the energy levels were high, both from the band and the audience. I'm still a bit in awe that I got to see this particular favorite band of mine play live. To put it in perspective, Diary, an amazingly wonderful album, was released in 1994; I was 9-years-old. The band went through line-up changes and broke up, ultimately, in 2001. I think it was around that time when I first discovered Diary.

Sorry, Britney and JT, I have a new favorite concert.

Mr. Walkway!

Mr. Walkdownmei'mthewalkway.

It wasn't too long ago that I feared my awkwardness was a liability. I was too random, too loud, and too involved with school. Now these qualities provide the foundation for the rest of me. What made me "uncool" years ago is just what makes me... me. And nowadays, I really like me.

On "Fresh Air" last night, the interviewee said "[my mother] told me that when I found myself, I would be beautiful."

I second that statement, with all my being.

8th Grade Reading Level

Out of curiosity, I ran an analysis on this blog which determined the reading level of my page. As it turns out, this blog is somewhere in the 8th grade range. I apologize for that but not wholeheartedly. In fact, I don't apologize at all. I'm going to retract my previous statement. If you want good blog reading, you should probably follow my friends, Ashley and Ian. They're both pursuing advanced degrees in English or writing or something like that.

I, however, will be pursuing an advanced degree in higher education administration. More precisely, I will be pursuing a degree in student affairs administration or student development administration or college student services admin-- you get the idea.

However, I won't say that I wasn't concerned when I saw the low grade on my page. I ran sections of my statement of purpose through the "grader" to make sure I wasn't going to cheat myself out of hundreds of dollars; what I mean is, I don't want my SOP to look like a junior high schooler wrote it. To my relief, the SOP passages came back at a much higher difficulty rating, putting me in the range of college graduates. (Phew.)

I'm pretty pooped from studying for the GRE. I would say that I can't wait until Saturday for it to be done with, but the way things are going, I may have to take the exam again. Looks like the ETS just may get another $150 out of me. For what? Proving myself against the rest of grad school hopefuls, I suppose.

All About Flannel

Nah. That would be way too boring.

I generally dislike winter. Sure, snow's pretty to look at, and sometimes I even go snowboarding or sledding, but other than that, snow/ice/cold cramps my style. I'm a summer girl; I feel and look better in the summer. It's this simple fact that causes me to miss my Wenatchee summers. 90 degrees during the day! Tank top weather at night! Now that's summer weather-- none of this 70-degree, wussy stuff I've been living with for the past four years.

When fall and winter sneak back, I find myself struggling with clothing choices. I'm proud to say I expanded my cold weather wardrobe last year, and I'm continuing to do so. It's almost to the point where I look good a majority of the time. That also means I have a lot of boots. I never thought I would be a person with a boot fetish, but I have a tub of boots now. It's my treasure chest.

I suppose winter (note: I keep referring to fall and winter as just "winter." Take that, cold weather.) does give me an excuse to snuggle up in blankets. I have an electric blanket, and it's heavenly.

This post really has little direction, so I'll end my rambling with just a few more thoughts.

One: There was frost on my car last night. Not. Cool.

Two: A dear friend's wedding took place yesterday. It was so much fun-- everything about the day made me smile. (And there were funfetti cupcakes.)

Three: Flannel sheets are awesome. I'm totally buying myself another set from Target when the ridiculous holiday prints come out.

Vote

Today, I updated my voter registration. I will be a registered voter in King County.

Weird.

Also, Stumptown Coffee is amazing, especially on a Friday morning. And especially when coffee was out of the picture all week.

Leavenworth Oktoberfest tomorrow. They added several new beers. I'm excited for the crowds and the delicious smell of sauerkraut and brats.

Add-on:
If I were the president of the USA, and my hometown was in the running to host the Olympics, OF COURSE I would show up to support it. It isn't a question of whether I'm liberal or conservative. Heck, if anywhere in Washington was in the running, I'd go crazy! Jeez. And if my city was running against other "cool" cities and didn't get the bid, it would be absolutely ridiculous for people to tout it as a failure on my part.

Goodness. Seriously? The Olympics going to another city has become a talking point for conservatives? Get real. No way.

Also, protecting marriage does not mean blocking gay marriage. Reform the rules for anyone getting married. Or ban it all together. Do you really need me to dig up all my old debate notes on this topic? Again, get real. No way.

That's the end of my semi-political rant.

(I would be much more composed and elegant with my writing if I felt it would reach "certain people on multiple sides (C.P.M.S.)" but since "C.P.M.S." like to be immature about politics, then I suppose I can tone it down.)

New Dress

Getting a new dress is fun for me. I wonder if it would be more fun or less fun if I hadn't gone through a strict "no dresses, no skirts," phase in middle school. I remember wearing a long skirt once in 7th grade because our b-ball team was playing a game that afternoon. People were shocked. It may have also been accentuated by my boy-ish haircut.

I wish I had more dresses and skirts, and I wish I lived in a climate where I could where them all the time. I wish I still had an excuse to wear my cheer uniform. There's nothing stopping me from doing that, except for maybe being committed to a mental institution.

Back to new dresses, though. The new dress I received today will be worn as a bridesmaid dress. This is the second time I will don a dress as a bridesmaid. The last time I was in a wedding, I was in 8th grade; it was my cousin's wedding in NJ. This next time, it will be for my good friend, Kate.

And then I'm going to wear that dress on a date. Perhaps I'll wear it to a ballet or a musical of some sort because the dress Kate picked is beautiful. I love everything about it it.

Except for one small thing.

It has stitching around the bust that doesn't quite stretch enough for me to get it over my hips or shoulders without fear that the dress will rip. Once on, the dress is gorgeous and comfortable. But...

...I wrote this entire blog post to tell you I spent 15 minutes trying to decide how to get out of the dress. Then I spent another 5 or so trying to position myself into a dress-getting-out-of stance. I made it out okay and so did the dress.

My life is exciting.

Brrrrrr.

Fall is here.

Thanks for the sun today, Seattle. I guess it really is "Sun"day.

I put in my first graduate school application yesterday afternoon. Alright-- so I only turned in the online portion. I had to pay, though, so that counts for something. I still need transcripts from Western and a LOR to come in, and then I can send in the rest. I wonder if the school will allow me to just walk the application to the admissions office. I live four blocks away. I'm going to save my stamps, darn it.

Short post for today.

Not Cool, Dude.

It's my own fault.

No one should move into a new apartment and buy some home furnishings (however, I did stay in my target spending for that category), then try to attend a baseball game and a concert within a day of each other, while trying to budget for grad school applications, friends' weddings (bridesmaid dresses, presents, and plane/train tickets), and having wisdom teeth pulled.

Why?

Because the drain on one's checking account will be so stressful, that said individual will experience stomach cramps for several days.

Just when things started to look a-okay... grr.

I'm Not One to Be Prejudice...

Can I just take a moment to tell you how much I hate apples from anywhere other than Washington?

I hate apples from anywhere other than Washington a lot. I just "munched" on an apple I picked up at my local co-op. The apple was from New Zealand; had I noticed this at the co-op, I probably would not have purchased the apple. Unfortunately, it wasn't until I was hungry that I noticed this fact clearly printed on a sticker. I expected the worst, and I got the worst: mushy, bland, and all-around not good. And it was a Granny Smith-- my favorite type of apple.

Ugh. No thanks, New Zealand.

Yo Patrick Swayze

This picture has nothing to do with anything in this post, except for maybe Idaho and weddings. Other than that, I just think it's great. Check out Cameron's goatee. Moving on...

Another celebrity gone this year. Funny how it coincided with another engagement announcement. MJ dies; Tanja tells us she's engaged. PS dies; Kate tells us she's engaged. I wonder if Beth killed any celebrities with her engagement.

I just had a horrible thought. What if, when I get engaged, Ben Gibbard dies? Or Justin Timberlake? Or Morgan Freeman? I think that would be enough of a sign for me to reconsider the whole thing. Blame it on being half-Filipino-- I'm supersticious.

I've added a few more places to my "Places to Visit" list. Fiji and Puerto Rico are both on there, as well as the city of San Diego. Places I'd like to re-visit include Cannon Beach, OR and Priest Lake, ID.

On that same note, I'm thinking of booking a campsite for Memorial Day weekend 2010 at Priest Lake. I'm 99% sure Cameron will at least be able to go with me, and we're hoping a few other people can join. It's a max of 8 campers and 1 vehicle, though, so we'll see. If it all falls through and it's only him and me, that's fine; that will be our 3-year annivesary weekend, anyway.

I went shopping at the co-op just down the street. It was wonderful. I would have purused for longer, but I was hungry and knew I would spend way too much money if I did that. I came home, and I was ready to make myself a real meal, but all I wanted was a salad and some frozen yogurt. Not as hungry as I originally thought, apparently.

Anyway, please don't ask me when I'm getting engaged. It will be a long time from now. In the meantime, please feel free to ask me about my plans for graduate school. I'll be happy to entertain you with my ideas of where I'd like to study and what I would like to do.

I'm back. Again.

It's been just about a week and a half. Parking is atrocious, the commute back from work is unpleasant, and there's been a cloud hanging over my workplace for the past several mornings, which just isn't comforting.

All in all, though, I finally feel like myself again. I've actually gone out and done things. I usually get to talk to people, in person, at my apartment. I'm not terrified of going to the laundry room.

I am a bit intimidated to park and then drive somewhere and try to park again. It would be a bit easier if the only non-zoned parking wasn't on a hill and I could parallel park. I'll work on that later.

So, Seattle's not completely terrible. I'm surrounded by a city that has culture again. Oh, thank Heaven.

On another note, I've been stressed out due to GRE studies, grad school applications, and letters of recommendation. This is not an easy task, but I hope it's insanely rewarding. I'm applying for a bunch of different schools (seven), and I hope one of them accepts me and offers me something enticing. I'm excited about the field I want to study, and seeing that it's been a year since I realized I wanted to study higher education administration, I'm confident that this will work.

Anyway. I'm avoiding actually getting anything done, and there is a lot to take care of today. Farmer's market, Target, laundry, unpacking (still), etc. For now, I'm outta here.

Well....

I moved to Capitol Hill. I have a commute again. I have a roommate again.

Crossing my fingers that I'll have a life again.

Hello, Dear Friends.

Ah, the ease of uploading photos to this blog.

Where do I begin today?

Well. The other night, I woke up to strange noises. In my confused state, I thought my neighbors were simply up partying, or whatever it is they do at 1AM. Turns out, someone was at my window, furtively prying off the screen. I purchased a knife after that, though I have a feeling I'll accidentally stab my hand before using it to defend myself. That's life in Everett, I suppose.

Due in part to Cameron's comment that he wants to shop at farmers markets more often, I think I will begin shopping at a few of the markets in Seattle. Yes, I'm moving to Seattle, as long as no one breaks into my apartment and steals my life away before then. It's a good thing I'm not paranoid at all (sarcasm). Back to farmers markets, though-- first of all, is it "farmers" or "farmers'?" Second of all, I always forget how much I enjoy the markets until I walk around for awhile. I feel much more at ease there. Third of all-- free samples!

Anyway. I lost my train of thought somewhere between "free samples" and my lunch break.

Sunny Days

I've noticed that it's hard to keep up a good mood on this side of the mountains. How I feel is very influenced by the weather. I know this, because I made the mistake one year of decorating my room in blues and drab neutrals. It was dark, and I spent all winter brooding. After that, I made sure to use magentas, oranges, yellows, etc. to brighten my living spaces up.

My junior and senior year at college were aided by the fact that I lived in a cheerful little house with yellow walls. Perfect.

Then I moved to whatever you want to call my current dwelling. It's a cave, and it has been impossible to brighten that place up. I even got a new floor lamp.

On a related note, though, I just created a "Sunny Day Radio" station on Pandora. Jack Johnson, Hawaiian music, and upbeat folk rock has been helping me so far today. I needed something to get me past some frustration. It's working to an extent. I won't complain.

Lastly, I have tickets to one of my favorite bands of all time. I'm going to see Sunny Day Real Estate in October. Seattle emo, for the win. It will be grand.

Alright. Back to work. Then it's off to sunny Wenatchee for Casey's celebration of life and my dad's 90th. I think I'll need to stop by a local winery, too. Good idea? I think so.

Smile.

I'm Back

But then again, I never left.

I've gone several places since the last time I posted here: Las Vegas, Wenatchee, Hawaii, Whidbey Island, Bellingham.

But I never left.

I'm still in a rut, and I haven't been able to dig myself out. I had to go back to Everett last night. I feel like a normal person would accept that fact and go home to his or her apartment with sleep on the mind. How did I handle it? I cried. Of course.

I've tried, Everett. I really have. Nothing about you makes me want to roll my windows down and cruise around. Instead, you've trapped me. All my normal tactics are useless against you.

Has this city finally broken me?

A few weeks ago, before I left for Hawaii and before Cameron was back on the mainland, I started to feel some semblance of normalcy. I was feeling independent and confident about the future. I guess when I stepped back and looked at where I am in comparison to so many others, I was crushed by the depressing reality that I've somehow failed.

When I go home at night, I go home to an empty apartment. It's full of stuff, and if I had the motivation, I swear I would throw most of it away. An unfinished scrapbook. Language books, of which I've only read the first chapter. Presents to be sent off. Piles of laundry. An empty suitcase. Unread GRE study guides.

The distaste I have for this apartment has led me to stop caring. Maybe I would like it more if it didn't feel like such a desperate place. It's not home. It's a storage bin where I unfortunately have to sleep every night.

Get me out of here. My creativity, my drive, my identity have all withered.

Is that what college graduation is about?

If this is the real world, I'm over it. I want to pack my bags and get out of here.



It's too bad I'll only get part way through the task.

Wistful

Flipping through photos-- well, "clicking through aimlessly" is more accurate, but that just doesn't sound the same. Let's try that again.

Flipping through photos, old and new, I could hear a clock ticking. Not in real life, but symbolically. Bear with me here. Somewhere, buried in the rubble of countless tears and sleepless nights, there is nearly a year lost. It's in there, and I don't think I want to find it. I'll keep some of the scraps that are oddly shaped and remind me of the good moments. Other than that, I'd prefer to forget it.

It's been alright. Like I've said a billion times before, though, when you set out to find yourself and set aside two whole years to do so, it's a downer to realize what your life's passion truly is only 3 months into this "journey."

And now, with almost a year already gone, I think I've wasted some valuable time working on other things. Did I learn another language? No. Did I improve my dance and/or cheer skills? In a way, but I didn't perform, and I have a few more years left before I fall apart. Did I even try my hand at writing something funny? Nope. Surely I wrote a few good pieces of poetry, right? Negative.

Uninspired: this is my quarter-life crisis. I get excited about the prospect of something new, but then I get sucked in by my comfort zone. Then I get bored. Then I stay bored. And then nothing comes of it.

I hate this feeling. I know what I want next, but I don't know when. I don't know where I'll go. I don't know if I've missed a life-changing opportunity.

What I do know is this: I'm going to be okay. So what if I have $16k in student loans? It's an investment. So what if I live in a crappy studio? My lease will end, and I will leave it behind, and I will find somewhere that makes me happier.

My life would be a decent stub of a Wikipedia article.

"Not quite a child prodigy, Ardith was talented in many areas[...] From June 2008 through September 2008, Ardith took it upon herself to live in what she would often refer to as 'the worst city in the world.'

CAREER
She once told a friend, 'I'm not famous because I just don't have a specialty.' Ardith spent her life as a well-rounded individual, excelling in many areas, but never reaching the level necessary to make a living off any of her said talents."

But talent isn't always equal to passion, and I know where I should go next.


Oh yeah, old photos. The great thing about what I want to do is I'll hopefully be getting to work with college students-- you know, those individuals who have that new-found swagger, those stars in their eyes, and who can have the whole world (often times, for a nominal fee. For me, it was $16k. Anyway.). I hope it will keep me young at heart while growing wiser every year.

In the meantime: Crossing my fingers to get out of this emotional valley.

Clarity

I realized today that I have management experience. What else would you call coordinating and leading a college cheer team for an academic year?

Think about it. I had to basically outline practices, figure out working structures for game days, collaborate with my other captains, do some conflict-management, coordinate with other student groups to market games, and try and keep my cool while doing so.

It was great for personal growth. I wish I had done some things differently, but I have those experiences to learn and draw from. That's probably the most important aspect of all of this. I now lead a youth hip-hop team. I've had to tweak approaches for this particular age group, and again, I've learned quite a bit.

All in all, these experiences are invaluable. Some days are harder than others, but I look for the positive aspects. I've grown as a leader and grown creatively. I intend on continuing to do so.

An Exercise in Existence

I recently wrote a "Rants and Raves" entry for the Seattle craigslist. I didn't publish it, but I did release quite a bit of emotion. I told my subject "I hate you" repeatedly, and unleashed some insults that were most likely unwarranted. Sometimes, though, you just have to let the city you're living in know that it does not control you completely. It may be utterly depressing and lackluster, but it will not run my life.

That said, I wondered what living in Everett has taught me.

I don't do well without roommates. I'm unmotivated in keeping my apartment tidy, and I'm uncreative in decorating and making my space a pleasant place to live.

I need tables and counter space. I need places to spread out my books and papers, my cooking ingredients, or whatever else I'm trying to do. I'm not a "stacks" person; I'm a "many little groups/piles" person.

I'm fond of learning. I'm fond of helping people learn. This is going to be a cornerstone in my professional advancement.

Everett may be the least-inspiring city I know, but at least I've learned a lot about myself. There's nowhere else to go but up from here, right?

8 Months Later

Nearly 8 months after graduating from college:

I find myself living alone, in a studio apartment, in a city which seems to be little more than a sprawling sea of buildings, 50% of which are probably tire centers. I chose to live here, in Everett, instead of Seattle because: 1. I didn't think I could handle the hustle-and-bustle of the city, and 2. I didn't want to drive half an hour to and from work every day. What I didn't bargain for was lack of people my age who are in similar positions in life. I'm just out of college and wanted to take this year to have fun. Instead, I'm finding myself around a majority of people who are transitioning into a more settled period in their lives. While that's great for them, it's not great for my social life.

Most of the people who I'd like to spend more time with do happen to live in Seattle. Now, I'm locked into a lease and live about 40 minutes away from the big city. I should have explored my options a bit better instead of, "How much longer can I sleep in if I live in Everett?"

I can't tell you how much sleep I've lost worrying about my safety and health since moving here. I've seen more arrests in my neighborhood now than I did in 18 years of living in eastern Washington.

A lack of social life. Being constantly afraid in my living arrangements. Uncertainty about my next steps. These aren't the things I thought would take priority over my focus on doing well at work. I suppose this is the harsh reality everyone spoke of. Maybe it's the fact that Cameron's still in college and everything he does seems so free. Maybe it's the fact that when I teach my dance classes, I get away from Everett, and I step into an environment where I have control over my decisions. And maybe it's because when you teach a creative art, you don't have to worry that each move may drive the economy deeper into recession.

I'm not sure, but these are the things I think about now.

On the upside of things, all this deep thinking has led me in a new direction as far as graduate studies go. I'm gearing up to apply to student affairs and development administration programs for 2010. I finally linked my fondness for school and communication/human interaction all together. Excellent. At least I can day dream about that, right?

8 months later, and I've learned more about myself and what I need to be happy. Now it's a matter of staying strong and pushing forward.

Til next time...