I'm alive.
It's all that really matters.
lundi 29 octobre 2007
mardi 16 octobre 2007
Home, Home on the Range
Fall Break
Definition: A mid-semester extended weekend given to Allegheny students as a reward for going 6.5 weeks straight of classes. Time is given to go home and spend time with the family, or relax back at your residence hall.
This past weekend, I had opted for the second due to complications at home with an inability to drive 3 hours to pick me up bring me back home and do it all over again a few days later. Unfortunately, nobody notified me that in the end, I would be one of maybe 3 people left in my hall...the others of which I don't talk to.
A call came in Friday night, asking me how to say bitch in French, and I gave her a far more offensive term. She threw me on the phone with her boyfriend, and after a while of talking he offered to get me the next day after work. What a fantastic idea! My sister ended up getting me after work after I had called her 'sick' to get her out of a mandatory RA thing.
It was a complete surprise to my family that I was coming home. My father was thrilled and my mother was pissed because we were so late getting home and almost missed my brother's haunted house. Beyond that all was fine...except my brother's take-over of the bathroom, that was disgusting.
It was nice to be home. I went for pumpkins and picked apples. I ate good food in reasonable portions and got to sleep in my own bed (hard as a rock compared to my school bed...and about 2 feet shorter) I also drove a car again, one thing that I miss terribly here. And I went to Target and saw civilization. I visited school and talked to my favorite teachers and saw my swim team...and realized I really do NOT miss swimming. Overall it was good to be home. But at the same time, at the end of 2 days, I was ready to come back. Very ready. Home is great, my family is great, it was wonderful to see Carolyn and have a good old Tuxedo Latte at Leaf and Bean, but seriously I have been so independent for the past two months that it was a little strange to ask my parents if I could do everything and to live out of a duffel bag in my own home.
But now I have 5 more weeks of straight classes with no breaks, until Thanksgiving. Everyone will be home at Thanksgiving, I will have a reason to be there, to kick off the holiday season with tons of good food, get Christmas decorations and then return at the end to finish off the semester. College goes so quick.
This is probably the most disorganized blog post in a long time. Deal with it.
Definition: A mid-semester extended weekend given to Allegheny students as a reward for going 6.5 weeks straight of classes. Time is given to go home and spend time with the family, or relax back at your residence hall.
This past weekend, I had opted for the second due to complications at home with an inability to drive 3 hours to pick me up bring me back home and do it all over again a few days later. Unfortunately, nobody notified me that in the end, I would be one of maybe 3 people left in my hall...the others of which I don't talk to.
A call came in Friday night, asking me how to say bitch in French, and I gave her a far more offensive term. She threw me on the phone with her boyfriend, and after a while of talking he offered to get me the next day after work. What a fantastic idea! My sister ended up getting me after work after I had called her 'sick' to get her out of a mandatory RA thing.
It was a complete surprise to my family that I was coming home. My father was thrilled and my mother was pissed because we were so late getting home and almost missed my brother's haunted house. Beyond that all was fine...except my brother's take-over of the bathroom, that was disgusting.
It was nice to be home. I went for pumpkins and picked apples. I ate good food in reasonable portions and got to sleep in my own bed (hard as a rock compared to my school bed...and about 2 feet shorter) I also drove a car again, one thing that I miss terribly here. And I went to Target and saw civilization. I visited school and talked to my favorite teachers and saw my swim team...and realized I really do NOT miss swimming. Overall it was good to be home. But at the same time, at the end of 2 days, I was ready to come back. Very ready. Home is great, my family is great, it was wonderful to see Carolyn and have a good old Tuxedo Latte at Leaf and Bean, but seriously I have been so independent for the past two months that it was a little strange to ask my parents if I could do everything and to live out of a duffel bag in my own home.
But now I have 5 more weeks of straight classes with no breaks, until Thanksgiving. Everyone will be home at Thanksgiving, I will have a reason to be there, to kick off the holiday season with tons of good food, get Christmas decorations and then return at the end to finish off the semester. College goes so quick.
This is probably the most disorganized blog post in a long time. Deal with it.
jeudi 11 octobre 2007
I USED TO be like that
So I ran into a rather awkward conversation today, at least it was awkward for me. On Thursdays, I eat lunch at French table, where we are supposed to eat and talk seulement en français, but often people ignore that. I was having some pretty good conversations with people around me, and then toward the end, people near the foot of the table started speaking in English. It was all about "that boy with OCD." Nearly everyone on campus knows him or knows of him apparently. This is only the first I had heard of him.
The point is though, they were talking. Pointing out the things he does and discussing them, then going on to try to figure out why, then continuing, as often people do when talking about OCD, to point out their own quirks. Listening in on this conversation, as it was the same people I had been discussing life with in French only five minutes before, I felt awkward. As they continued to talk, I wanted to set them straight with facts and personal experiences, but I didn't feel it was my place for some reason.
For the first time since I have been here, I am uncomfortable with my own OCD.
The conversation at lunch really made me think: do people see me doing my stuff and talk about me over their mandatory lunch periods? Do they actually see t for what it is, or something else?
My real question is, since when did OCD become uch a widely used term for every little stupid thing? Since when did it become a 'competition' to have the most strange habits and title them under OCD? Do they even understand that it is more than just a little organization here, a little touching there? I don't think so. The term OCD is so widely used (often with the wrong verb) that people no longer recognize it so much as an actual anxiety disorder as they do an emotion.
As I sat listening to the conversation, I felt this incredible discomfort so that after a few moments, I just got up and left. It kind of made me think about and realize how far I have come and how thankful I have worked things out, put forth the effort to change, that I am not so bad as to be dubbed "that girl with OCD."
But really, what do you do in that conversation? It's not like you can come out and start talking, setting the facts straight, using the excuse of knowledge as the fact that you do have OCD, not when everybody else is going around saying things that for some reason make it seem like they are competing for the disorder. It really just seems like you are trying to get your sympathy bid in.
I guess I just have to leave it at something that if somebody is curious, they can ask, but until then I just have to get up from the table and ignore the conversation, completely content with the fact that I used to be like that.
The point is though, they were talking. Pointing out the things he does and discussing them, then going on to try to figure out why, then continuing, as often people do when talking about OCD, to point out their own quirks. Listening in on this conversation, as it was the same people I had been discussing life with in French only five minutes before, I felt awkward. As they continued to talk, I wanted to set them straight with facts and personal experiences, but I didn't feel it was my place for some reason.
For the first time since I have been here, I am uncomfortable with my own OCD.
The conversation at lunch really made me think: do people see me doing my stuff and talk about me over their mandatory lunch periods? Do they actually see t for what it is, or something else?
My real question is, since when did OCD become uch a widely used term for every little stupid thing? Since when did it become a 'competition' to have the most strange habits and title them under OCD? Do they even understand that it is more than just a little organization here, a little touching there? I don't think so. The term OCD is so widely used (often with the wrong verb) that people no longer recognize it so much as an actual anxiety disorder as they do an emotion.
As I sat listening to the conversation, I felt this incredible discomfort so that after a few moments, I just got up and left. It kind of made me think about and realize how far I have come and how thankful I have worked things out, put forth the effort to change, that I am not so bad as to be dubbed "that girl with OCD."
But really, what do you do in that conversation? It's not like you can come out and start talking, setting the facts straight, using the excuse of knowledge as the fact that you do have OCD, not when everybody else is going around saying things that for some reason make it seem like they are competing for the disorder. It really just seems like you are trying to get your sympathy bid in.
I guess I just have to leave it at something that if somebody is curious, they can ask, but until then I just have to get up from the table and ignore the conversation, completely content with the fact that I used to be like that.
vendredi 5 octobre 2007
Happy Ending Week
So it's been a stressful week. I faced the results of my first two college tests, in Chemistry and Calculus. I was VERY pleased with the scores, but you know how I am about grades. I had my first college paper due today...in FRENCH. And then I had the typical little nit-picky homework to do for all my classes additionally. I seriously feel as though I have been doing nothing but eating all week long, and pretty much since classes started too.
I've been giving into all sorts of compulsions, left and right. Touching things, skipping over cracks and the darkest parts of floors, organizing and re-organizing everything, stapling my French paper 6 times until it was at a perfect 45 degree angle, brushing teeth and washing hands and invading personal space to fix other peoples stuff...really everything...less the strange ones I have been having to pull the fire alarm at which point I literally run down the hall as far away from it as possible.
Overall...stressful week.
But every week has its end...hence the weekend, and mine started today. I kept optimistic and happy, encouraging everyone of the fact that it is Friday...one week from fall break Friday. And it's homecoming, which is where it all starts.
Our theme is 'Made in the 80's' so pretty much it was awesome. I got all dressed up in an adorable little outfit and went to the pep rally with a few of my hall mates. It was amusing, and I didn't get a t-shirt, but fun all the same. Then the real party started...and by party I mean 80's dance party. I suck at dancing, but there is something about 80's music that makes it alright...even cool...to dance poorly. And so I did. For two hours straight. about 1/2 the time in two inch heels. I got so sweaty and just let EVERYTHING go. I borrowed SWEATBANDS from someone else (I don't know why I accepted the initial offer looking back now.) I moved so much that my outer shirt stretched to 2 times its size. It was so free and fun...just dancing with my friends. I forgot everything and just moved with the beat and screamed along with Whitney Houston until my voice grew hoarse. What could be better?
It's great to have such an ending to a week, even if I do come back to my dorm and realize how disgusting I am and run to the shower before panic can officially set in.
But it was all worth it. =)
I've been giving into all sorts of compulsions, left and right. Touching things, skipping over cracks and the darkest parts of floors, organizing and re-organizing everything, stapling my French paper 6 times until it was at a perfect 45 degree angle, brushing teeth and washing hands and invading personal space to fix other peoples stuff...really everything...less the strange ones I have been having to pull the fire alarm at which point I literally run down the hall as far away from it as possible.
Overall...stressful week.
But every week has its end...hence the weekend, and mine started today. I kept optimistic and happy, encouraging everyone of the fact that it is Friday...one week from fall break Friday. And it's homecoming, which is where it all starts.
Our theme is 'Made in the 80's' so pretty much it was awesome. I got all dressed up in an adorable little outfit and went to the pep rally with a few of my hall mates. It was amusing, and I didn't get a t-shirt, but fun all the same. Then the real party started...and by party I mean 80's dance party. I suck at dancing, but there is something about 80's music that makes it alright...even cool...to dance poorly. And so I did. For two hours straight. about 1/2 the time in two inch heels. I got so sweaty and just let EVERYTHING go. I borrowed SWEATBANDS from someone else (I don't know why I accepted the initial offer looking back now.) I moved so much that my outer shirt stretched to 2 times its size. It was so free and fun...just dancing with my friends. I forgot everything and just moved with the beat and screamed along with Whitney Houston until my voice grew hoarse. What could be better?
It's great to have such an ending to a week, even if I do come back to my dorm and realize how disgusting I am and run to the shower before panic can officially set in.
But it was all worth it. =)
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