New Year's Reflections

Where was I a year ago? At my parents' home in Cedar City, UT. I was still determined to become the USMC's top intel officer, the plan of which was completely crushed half-way through 2005. I had no sweetheart to call my own and I was doing fairly crappy in school. Oh, and most importantly, I was a mere three months and 26 days from being fully initated as a Roman Catholic.

And here I am. Still at my parents' home (although hopefully they'll be moving - for real- soon). I'm doing much better in school and I do have a wonderful man I can call "honey". I can say that, for the first time in my adult life, I'm happy with myself and at peace with the world in general. I can also say that there is no recipe for this profound state of being, and I'm still trying to figure out how I got here.

I have a vague idea of what I want to do with my life, career-wise. In August it was work for the NSA. In early October it was "creative" writing or journalism. In late December it's "I have no fucking clue".

My favorite professor told me to do some soul searching during my exile in Utah, and through all my prayers and telling myself to get with the program and "figure it out", nothing.

I still toy with the idea that war corresponding would be fascinating and "fun" work, although I doubt my sweetheart would agree. He's been suspiciously quiet whenever I bring up the idea.

No one ever keeps their New Year's Resolutions. Thus, I've decided to make some goals for Spring Semester 2006, as keeping a goal for 20 weeks (if you count the couple weeks before the semester starts and a couple weeks after it ends) is probably more-doable than keeping a goal for 56. I think I've made some fairly modest goals for this next semester:

1. To earn a 4.0 GPA for this last semester at Montana Tech, which I believe is (barely) doable.
2. To keep my apartment in a relative state of saneness, which may or may not be doable if I'm trying to accomplish goal #1.
3. To get at least 30 minutes of physical activity done a day, which may or may not be doable. Of course, my definition of "physical activity" is fairly broad. And made easier because of Coach Green's Racquetball 101 class. I can also try that walking-to-class thing again, which will put in 40 minutes of "physical activity" in.
   
4. (This ties in with goal #3) To start running again. I want to be running 20 miles a week by June.

I'm not really concerned with the fact my big life-plan has changed dramatically in the past year. "Correct and Redirect" was the advice I found in January's issue of Runner's World, as applied to running programs. I know my life has changed dramatically in the past couple of years, and that it's probably going to change dramatically in the next year (nay, in the next six months!). I think I have the "correcting" part of the advice down, because life as I know it has intensely improved over the past year. It's the "redirecting" I need to get.

It Is Done, and Some Gripes

So the hair got permed today. I had a nice student hairdresser at the local hairstyling college, and they were playing Johnny Cash in the salon so it was a fairly pleasant experience considering I was sitting with my hair soaked in chemicals, the smell of which follows you around for the next three days.

Mom is very happy with the result, and is insistant that my boyfriend will be as delighted with my now-curly hair. So if two people are happy with it, I can't complain. I haven't decided if I like the curls or not. At the very least, they'll make getting ready in the morning that much faster; just throw in some curl-defining stuff, toss the curls around and go.

I do think the curls make my face look softer and more feminine, which might make it easier for the idiots in Utah who tend to find it ambiguous in determining my gender. I blame this on me not fitting the cookie-cutter Utah women are "supposed" to be molded from more than anything else.

Anyway, sidestepping the issues I have with the theocratic state and its devout citizens, the news here sucks. I'd much rather read, on FoxNews.com, about a kid who singlehandedly went to Iraq for the holidays as an experiment in imbedded journalism (because that's actually kind of cool he survived) rather than watch the news here. As "top" stories, I've watched packages on:

• a followup to some boy scout getting stabbed in the head with his scoutmaster's knife (this wasn't even news, as the kid was completely healed and all they had in the package was how he got stabbed with the Leatherman)
• a followup to a Utah State van crash where some students died five months ago. Not really any news here either, just an interview of a survivor disputing the forensic evidence on seatbelt use.
• The 200th anniversary of Joe Smith's birth. I won't even touch this one.
• A dog ran 100 "show" sheep onto some train tracks, where they were slaughtered by a train. The dog (of course) was shot. Don't get me started with this one either.
  
• Mischevious teens deflating those huge Christmas decorations. This, I think, actually qualifies as news, even though I doubt I would ever see a similar package from KXLF.

Et cetera, et cetera. I won't mention how they used two very similar-looking anchors the other night that seemed reminiscent of The Stepford Wives. Because of the quality newscasting I've seen here (the "Fresh Air" Forecast is borderline silly), I've given up getting my news from the local station.
Arg. I want to go home.

I Wonder As I Wander

In between the great Christmas wrap-up and the huge New Year's hoop-la, my mother wielded her great matronly force into getting my hair permed. Turns out she liked how my hair was done for my best friend's wedding so much she wanted it permanent. And, as it always seems to turn out when I visit my parents, I have very little say (if any) on the matter.
I suppose if mom wants to spend the money I should let her. The chemical burning happens tomorrow morning, when it's too early for me to really complain about anything except lack of sleep.
I ran into an old school pal today. This girl, she was one of those bright figure-out-the-structure-of-DNA types. She got married either her freshman or sophomore year in college, and dropped out of college to have babies. I'm not quite sure why this is so depressing to me. Perhaps because I'm of the mind that everyone THAT brilliant should at least finish college. Even if your major ends up being Underwater Basket Weaving or something similarly non-productive.
To limit my exposure to the locals (and retain the little bit of sanity I have left), I've been putting all my favorite recipes in one of those blank books I'm so fond of buying. Now, when I want to impress The Honey and make Toscana soup followed by Fettuccine with Mushrooms & Prosciutto and finish with Classic Tiramisu (from the recipe of a true Italian chef, from the old country), I have all the recipes in one little notebook. Now I just need to muster the energy and ingredients to make all that stuff.
I miss home so much. I've got big plans when my roommate moves all her furniture out and I can move all my new stuff (stolen from the parents, of course) in. I have no idea why I'm so excited to have my own little apartment without roommates, but it's a thrilling prospect.

Now I Remember

The next time someone asks me why I dislike Utah so much, I can just relate to them what happened today.
It was a windy afternoon, with a little rain and a dusting of snow. Because of this "severe weather", the power goes out. For five hours.
Someone please either update my definition of "severe weather", which is probably closer to what Butte, Montana defines "severe weather" as, or explain to me why the power in Southern Utah goes out whenever the weather gods sneeze in Utah's general direction.

I do believe, in all my young years spent in Butte, the power was out once. For a short time. And I think that Butte's weather is much more "severe" than anything Cedar City, Utah has experienced. They should invite Utah Power stockholders to go up to Butte during a snowstorm or arctic chill when temperatures drop to -30 or so.

That is some severe weather.

Creepy Perverts Revisited

Tonight I got a text message from Curt, of drunken "do you want to come over and cuddle" fame. This makes me wonder why I ever gave him my phone number to begin with. Oh, I remember. He was nice to me and bought a drink for me at the Vu once. Before he turned creepy.

It said, "Merry Christmas sexy. Curt".

For the record, I did text him back wishing him a Blessed Christmas and Joyous New Year, because not returning a holiday greeting is just unkind in my book. Maybe I've encouraged his creepiness to continue, although I hope not.

But if he continues with the creepy act when I return to Butte, he will be in for a shock when he finds out that, not only will I not put up with it, I'm going to be "actively hostile" about not putting up with it.

You're Getting Old When The Friends Start Dying Off

I just found out today an old friend of mine from high school committed suicide this January, which sucks the ass of the flea on the camel's back.
He was a good guy; a nuclear missle technician for the Navy. He was stationed at Kings Bay, Georgia, on the USS Arizona. Definitely the most funny kid I've ever met. What makes this even more depressing is I thought he was one of the few people I went to high school with who was worth a damn.
They buried him at the cemetary in Cedar. So I suppose on Monday I'll stop by and pay him a visit.

No wonder he hasn't been returning my e-mails.

The Ups and Downs of Being Back in Utah

I made it. That's all that we can really say happened.
The flights went smoothly, and other than a 5 hour layover in Salt Lake City I have nothing to complain about.

But, the best thing is that grades are up on Orediggerweb. I earned 'A's in Literature of Decadence and British Literature (my Decadence prof almost never gives out 'A's and I crapped out on the British Literature final), which was a pleasant surprise. I earned an 'A' in my Intermediate Writing course, which was to be expected. And I earned a 'C' in my I&C course, which I'm insanely happy with. The I&C gods have been appeased.

You may think that a 'C' isn't that great, but you weren't there; you didn't take the course! I'm just happy that, if all goes well, I'll be all set to graduate in May.

My parents also decided to drive back to Utah today, but they haven't made it home just yet. I appreciate their effort to see me when I'm here.

And. . . it was reported to me that the current temperature in Cedar City is 52 degrees. Very balmy compared to the -20s that it was in Butte this past weekend. Break out the short shorts and the skirts!

Give me a few days here and I promise I will be back to my cynical, grumpy self that emerges whenever I have an extended stay in Utah.

One Party After Another

All right. I finally got my best friend married off (for those keeping track, I've now successfully married off my best friends from both high school and college). Janice had a most beautiful wedding ceremony/reception/party. Notice the boobalicious dresses. Even on the lowly endowed, you can create the illusion of mega breasts.This is me at the reception with the coolest math professor ever and his wife.
Sidenote: It's great to have the internet connection back. I like spending money every month on Network Services that don't provide a stable network. Makes me feel like the dollars are going to good use.

Appeasing the I&C Gods

It is finished.

The test was "supposed" to be multiple-choice. It wasn't.

The test was "supposed" to take an hour and a half to complete. I took 45 minutes.

I've been subsisting on caffiene and various junk foods for the past 72 hours. Sleep? What's that? I was up at 6:00 this morning. I don't want to know what time I finally fell asleep last night. I just hope these minor sacrifices to the I&C Gods have appeased them enough to escape from Tech in May.

Now that I'm sleepy, hungry, and mentally drained, who needs a drink? It's 5:00 somewhere.

The Thing About Underwear

Not all Victoria's Secret stores are made equal. In fact, depending on the time of the year you visit one of these stores, not all Victoria's Secret shopping experiences are made equal.

During the semi-annual sale, avoid Victoria's Secret at all costs. Otherwise you risk seeing women scrounging through bins marked from "32A" to "38D" in a manner reminiscent of hungry heifers. Not a pretty sight. Also, I don't know about you, but I would not like to guess how many other women touched the bra I just purchased.

No matter how long it's been since you've had a fitting, a saleswomen would more than likely want to see if you're wearing the correct size. This helps you to both justify the size you currently wear as well as to allow the saleswoman to hook you into spending your life savings on a lingerie wardrobe. Sidenote: Personally, I have yet to meet a rude Victoria's Secret saleswoman, and I think they must secretly clone or brainwash these ladies into the perfect weapon to peddle the pretty-nothings.

If your boyfriend is brave enough to venture into the hot-pink Estrogen Bubble with you, it's OK if he doesn't have anything to say when you leave, and it's totally awesome if he offers to hold the metallic hot-pink shopping bag for you. This, my readers, is what is called "Love". (It's called "Love plus plus" if that shopping bag is the extra huge one. We've all seen it; it's the one the size of a large dog.)

If you shop their store online, the selection is not as good as the selection in the physical store. The exception is if you're buying something plain Jane for "every day". Then, the plain articles from their Very Sexy, Body by Victoria, Angel, and Signature Cotton lines are fine.

In shopping online or from the mail-order catalog, you run the risk of getting bombarded by pink catalogs every two weeks for the next three years, as well as receiving extra Christmas and Valentine's Day catalogs.

The clothes that Victoria's Secret makes for sleeping are unparalleled. I highly recommend anything from their signature line. A close second is the flannel stuff they make for winter. Very warm and comfy.

IPEX may be patent-pending, but it sure does work.

The Decadent Turn of the Screw

I actually have an idea why the procrastination regarding my Decadence paper has extended to extreme limits. I think, somewhere in the semester, between "Torture Garden" and "Monsieur de Phocas", I lost my taste for reading the stuff. I blame most of this on "Torture Garden", not necessarily because it is a bad book, but because it was much too graphic for me to read, and I read it anyway. And there was definitely no way I was going to read "The Damned", because as fascinating as some guy obessessed with the Black Mass is, I don't think that's what I should be pouring into my head.

Now I'm scarred for life. If you don't have a taste for reading descriptions of post-tortured people, if you don't like reading a torturer's lament on his "lost art", please don't run out and pick up a copy of the book today. You can have mine. Seriously.

On the End of the Semester and Being a Bad Bridesmaid

I've finally recovered from my wallet & phone theft. I received my new/real driver's license (as opposed to the green paper one) in the mail, as well as my new credit card. Other than my Barnes & Noble Member card, I think I have my wallet back to where it should be.
I think I've had enough of this subzero weather. Either that, or the end of semester has killed my motivation to do anything productive (besides bitch on my blog, but I wouldn't count that as being productive). All I want to do is sleep, and eat, and sleep some more. Not exactly the best thing to do when you have an eight page paper due Friday. Oh well. It will get done, and it will be praiseworthy. That's all I can really say. At least I can be looking forward to a toasty 22 degrees Monday.
Word on the street is that I'll only get $5 back for my British Literature text. While depressing, the book has been tainted with the evil stench of that class and I'd rather have the $5 to buy a cup of coffee or something. Too bad I won't have enough cash to buy a copy of Beowulf like I planned. At least I finished the class without killing/maiming anyone or myself.
My roommate has been eagerly prepping for her wedding next Friday. I believe I'm starting to get excited about it, because it will be a gorgeous event (and a reason for me to dress up!). This will be my first go as a bridesmaid, and Janice had the good taste to pick out some pretty dresses. Amusing to me, the dress is cut so as to create major cleavage, even on a non-busty femme fatale such as myself. When I tried on the dress, Janice zipped me up, and then we both bust out laughing when we saw how I looked in the mirror. This dress will require a trip to Bozeman this weekend to pick out. . .more appropriate undergarments at one of my two favorite stores in the mall there.
I'm afraid I haven't been the best bridesmaid. Janice and I have somewhat different tastes when it comes to "stuff", and I haven't been very vocal on much of anything, because I'd rather she have a wedding gala that catered to her personality rather than my own. I'm willing to help out, but usually when she asks my opinion on something, I don't have much of an answer for her. Sometimes I can clarify something for a vendor when she asks what Janice wants and Janice doesn't have an answer. ("Yes, she wants an antique-look, and colors such as brown, cream, pink and green would be much appreciated.") But other than my few-and-far-between epiphanies, when I'm asked a question regarding her wedding all I can do is give a blank stare and say, "Que?".

Amusing Things

I amuse the gal who peddles my skin care products because apparently, I'm willing to go out in public in anything from glasses and sweats to going-out-glam-diva. (Your pure randomness of the day, from me to you)

I'm glad classes are officially over. I woke up at six this morning to work on my research paper, and stopped by the SUB (Student Union Building) to grab a "breakfast sandwich". Anyway, the cashier knew me from back in the daze when I was seeing my ex-fiance, Kris, and she asked how I was doing. I said I was doing fine, and that I was seeing someone new.
"Oh that's great. You know, I always thought Kris wasn't good enough for you." (This is news to me)
"Really?"
"Yeah, I always thought he was a little self-centered." (We laugh)
"Well, that's one way of putting it."

I'm puzzled why I'm still associated with this other fellow. I shouldn't be surprised at all; my cousin is still associated with the girl he used to date here, and that was over 10 years ago.

Why I DON'T Have a Webcam

Also known as: What Diane watches on repeat when she's avoiding her British Literature final. Who said all-nighters can't be fun?

Numa Numa

Need I say anything more? Find more info at the wikipedia article.

I Need To Get More Girlfriends

Not that there's anything wrong with my guy friends, but let me illustrate:

I have two very good friends, who happen to be guys and happen to also be brothers. A typical night involves me going to their apartment so I can watch T.V.
Tonight, I found out why men have nipples (because if women went around twisting each others' nipples, that would just be weird. It's funny if men do it) and one of my friends put a glove on his head and pretended to be a deer. (Or reindeer, or elk, or whatever) Let's not forget the vast amount of sexual, sacrilegious jokes that get passed around as well.

I asked my other friend for advice on what I should wear to this party I'm going to tonight (because I honestly tried to dream up something appropriate and couldn't). When a girl has to ask a guy for advice on what to wear, something is wrong.

Don't get me wrong, my guy friends are funny, great people to hang out with.

But they're also the reason why I'm seriously twisted.

Top Ten Movies I Want To See This Winter

Aeon Flux: Charlize Theron in a sci-fi. Do I need to say anything else?
Good Night and Good Luck: Black and White movies rock. And I like political thrillers.
Memoirs of a Geisha: Yes, it will suck ass. (Being a bastardization of a bastardization of Japanese culture) But I'm all about Gong Li and beautiful cinematography.
Syriana: I'm also all about the seedy life of a field CIA agent.
The Chronicles of Narnia: the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe: I'm a sucker for nerdy book adaptations. And I refuse to see anything else Peter Jackson makes (Kong, this winter) except for the extended editions of the Lord of the Rings trilogies. And even those were fucked up.
Corpse Bride: I love Tim Burton movies too. I wanted to see this when it was out in theaters, but never made it. Guess I'll have to hope for an early DVD release.
The Ice Harvest: Dark comedy with John Cusack AND Connie Neilsen? Too cool.
The New World: With eye-candy like Christian Bale and Colin Farrell. And it looks semi-accurate.
The Interpreter: Yeah, so I rented it already. But we were sleepy and it was being intelligent so we turned it off. Besides, I don't know how you can successfully followup The Nightmare Before Christmas.
Chinatown: Is it my fault there's crap in theaters? Besides, I've never seen it before, and I've heard it's good. I never said they had to be NEW movies.

Bending Genders

(No, this is NOT about the time Tawny - the local transsexual - hit on me at the Irish Times. Nice try.)

At least Lara Croft came in a close second:

You scored as Batman, the Dark Knight. As the Dark Knight of Gotham, Batman is a vigilante who deals out his own brand of justice to the criminals and corrupt of the city. He follows his own code and is often misunderstood. He has few friends or allies, but finds comfort in his cause.

Batman, the Dark Knight 100% Lara Croft 96% James Bond, Agent 007 79% Indiana Jones 71% The Amazing Spider-Man 71% Captain Jack Sparrow 67% Maximus 58% William Wallace 54% Neo, the "One" 54% El Zorro 42% The Terminator 33% Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0 created with QuizFarm.com

Revenge of the Singing Nerds!

I was invited to cantor (sing, Gregorian chant style, solo) at Mass on Christmas Day at St. Patrick's. While most honored, I had to turn it down (which makes me want to crawl in a hole and cry), because I won't be in Butte for Christmas. But, I get to cantor at both Masses at Butte Catholic Community North (BCCN) this Sunday, which I'm excited about.

I've always enjoyed singing, but never got the idea I had a particularly lovely singing voice until recently, when the Sean Nos instructor from An Ri Ra and several people (including the music director for BCCN and my sweetheart) came up and told me so. Even my postman said he thought I'd have the "voice of an angel". I took choir for a couple years in high school, but I don't think the choir director cared for my voice and I remember feeling frustrated about it.

So, I think I will give God His due when I say it's probably His fault people suddenly like my voice. What totally rocks is I love Christmas and all the Christmas *stuff* that goes along with Christmas. It's my favorite holiday (although I've read the truly hardcore Christians prefer Easter to Christmas; thank John Irving), and Father's music selections at Mass during Advent and Christmas totally rock the casbah.

Random Aging

My bedroom shares a wall with a neighboring apartment. And let's say the walls aren't exactly sound proof. From the sound of it, my neighbors could probably make it in the amateur porn business. (Especially at six in the morning! Who is awake enough at six in the morning to be getting freaky?)

I think my wild days are over. Especially when my idea of fun is cracking open the Liturgy of the Hours for some morning or evening prayer. (I don't think I've crossed into the scary realm of Super-Catholic yet, but I know I'm getting there)

Also, my physician told me today that I need to keep my weight down (And, at a trim 143 lbs., I'm feeling heavyish). I firmly resolve to get some exercise once the semester ends (Thank God that I'm taking raquetball with Coach Green in the spring. I love that man.). I want to start running again. As masochistic as it sounds, I miss it lots. What's more depressing than being told during the holidays you need to not be lazy?

Finally, I've noticed that tracking down professors in departments other than your own is less than fun. It's downright frustrating. (I just need a signature so I can escape in May!!!!)

Wine Shopping

Everytime I buy wine, I invariably spend at least a half hour looking at the wine bottles in the store. While I like wine, I don't drink a lot of it, and have definitely not been inducted into the cult of wine drinking.

This time spent looking at bottles of wine is exactly that; usually I know the type of wine I want to buy, and a couple of minutes is spent looking for that particular variety. But after I find the section of "Zinfindel" or "Pinot Noir" or "Reisling", the rest of the time is spent staring at the labels from the different vinyards.

I went to Albertsons' today to retrieve disposable pie pans so F can confiscate the leftovers and feed the starving individuals at KXLF. And I thought that, besides bringing an apple-cranberry pie to Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, it would be cool to bring a bottle of wine as well. And then I thought that I should buy a bottle of wine for myself, even though that adventure usually ends disastrously. Now I'm standing in front of the wine display at Albertsons', looking for not just one bottle of wine but two.

I ended up buying a bottle of Merlot for the hosts of the party tomorrow. Pinot Noir and Blackberry Merlot are the only two red wines I've been able to drink and not instantly get moody and emotional (not to mention a splitting headache), so I tend to stick to white wines and Zinfindels.

Let's segue into the last time I experimented with red wine: My significant other at the time had just dumped me, and I was intensely emotional and all alone at home. The only thing I had to drink at the house was a bottle of Black Opal's Cabernet Sauvingnon. I drank two sips and ended up curled into a ball in the corner of my room being even more emotional than I was when I started. Now you all know why I'm leery of red wine.

Back in the present, I bought a bottle of Cafe Zinfindel for myself (from Ernest & Julio Gallo), because I had a glass at a dinner party the other night and thought it was most excellent.

One of these days I'll have to blog about my experiences with beer and liquor. There are some interesting stories, I'll tell you that.

The Wednesday Afternoon Ritual

Every Wednesday, I spend the afternoon making some sort of goodie for RCIA. Since there is no RCIA tonight, and I feel obliged to alleviate the hunger pangs of people working at the news station, I'm making goodies anyway. Tonight it's pumpkin muffins (since perfecting the recipe, apparently I can't escape from making more muffins) and cheese muffins. Actually, I don't remember when I've made anything besides muffins. I should expand my baking repertoire.
Christmas gifts arrived in the mail today (no, not for me!!!), and I'm very excited about actually doling them out. That's sad when you're buying Christmas gifts before Thanksgiving. I guess I could give the ol' college excuse: Finals are in a few weeks and I won't see my friends until after New Year's.
I just realized that I'll be in Utah on the 22nd of December; less than a month from now. How depressing.

Test Results

I knew there was a reason for getting out of bed this morning. I got an 80 on my I&C test! Woo hoo! I know that doesn't sound great, but you have to take into account the average was 73, and the fact the class is tres difficile. Hopefully Neil Wahl will let me pass, and then I won't be a very depressed (not to mention oppressed) student at Montana Tech next year.

The more I think about it, the more I think my luxurious five-day weekend is going to be seriously eaten up by non-fun things, like studying and cleaning the kitchen after cooking. The only thing I really want to get done is read "The Picture of Dorian Gray" for my Decadence final. However, I think I'm going to end up working on my final research paper for Writing 2, which is decidedly non-exciting. The subject is very interesting (war reporting/journalism), but I haven't dreamed up my thesis yet. I was originally going to do a historical parallel between war corresponding from "back in the day" and now, but someone else has already done something like that and had it published. That and the librarians at Tech have killed my enthusiasm for research.

British Literature Final Woes

There's this concept about the whole college student-teacher relationship that seems to be overlooked in my British Literature course. The whole thing where the student is paying for the professor to provide some instruction and insight on the course material.

I don't have a personal problem with my professor. I've chatted with her outside of class, and she seems like a nice enough gal.

I have a professional problem with her. She's done nothing to further my knowledge of British Literature and constantly expounds on her lack of knowledge of the course (granted, she's a part time writing prof taking over because the prof who usually teaches the course is on sabbatical).

This is what she dreams up for the final:

• We, individually, have to dream up 10 essay questions related to what we've read and some topic or element of literature that comes up in Brit. Lit.
• Underline the thesis of our answers to our questions
• Put in quotes the works we're using in our answers
• Circle where we've noted the story's setting
• Bracket supporting details
• Single space the document (I've NEVER come across a professor -especially writing professor- who prefers single spaced documents. This woman is out of her gourd.)
• Let's not forget she also mentioned that she's not going to answer any questions during the last three days of class. W.T.F.?!?!? NOT answer questions???? I've never known a prof. to not answer questions, even right before an exam.

Someone please tell me how this will be a fair, accurate, objective evaluation of what I know about British Literature. Let's not forget the American taxpayer is helping me pay for this insanity.

I should go do some more Christmas shopping. Retail therapy can be a bitch, though. Just shoot me now and put me out of my misery.

How The Torture Went

Well, the test wasn't QUITE as painful as I had predicted. It was a 50 question, multiple choice/true-false/short answer examination. I couldn't answer a few problems, because I didn't have or didn't remember how to use the equations I wrote down last night (this is what I get for procrastinating until 12:50 AM the night before the test).

I don't think I did brilliantly on the test, but I do feel that I will not have to be a super grumpy uber-senior next Fall.

Dirty Ol' Town

You Belong In London

A little old fashioned, and a little modern.
A little traditional, and a little bit punk rock.
A unique woman like you needs a city that offers everything.
No wonder you and London will get along so well.

What City Do You Belong In?

Just Call Me "The Insomniac"

I think it's about time I describe the torture that is I&C. I&C is short for "Instrumentation & Control", which is short for "Process Instrumentation & Control". To clarify, the course teaches all the fun little ways engineers have dreamed up to monitor and control just about any process out there. The flush mechanism on your toilet; that's an I&C thing. Your thermostat; I&C as well. Just about anything that's "automatically" monitored and controlled is an I&C torture device.

It's really not as bad as I make it out to be. But the course is challenging. Imagine, for 15 (semesters are 15 weeks long, aren't they?) weeks, every Tuesday and Thursday (except for Thanksgiving) you sit in a 90 minute class absorbing massive amounts of information. Most of this information is hidden in "example" problems. The homework is so challenging I'm lucky to finish half a problem set. Now imagine having to recall every minute detail of this information for an exam. This is why I'm terribly sad about this test I'm about to take in about seven and a half hours. Don't sweat it; it's only worth 25% of the grade.

After writing up my crib sheet for the exam, I'm only slightly more relieved than when I was procrastinating for it. I'm thinking, "Oh yeah, I remember all this stuff." We shall see if I really do.

Let's also not forget that I was sick for a week and the notes I borrowed from someone (gratefully) and copied included giant blocks of space with the words "Picture Here" jotted in the center. Excellent. Not that my notes are any better. It's just so difficult to extract all the information/equations/conversion factors/etc. that we're supposed to know.

I know. I'm just a cranky senior. I'll quit bitching now. (I pray Neil Wahl passes me. He DOESN'T want to see me next year. I'll be more cranky than I am now.)

Avoiding the Test Cramming

I really, really don't want to take this test in I&C tomorrow. No matter what, it's going to suck some major ass and be depressing. So, I figure I should waste some time blogging and put off the depression that much more.

I really love the Christmas season. I don't know why; I'm just odd like that. There's something about making holiday goodies and Christmas shopping and gift-making that I really get into. Gift wrapping and Christmas decorating is great fun for me as well.
Sadly, I think Christmas is getting over-commercialized. On more than one occasion have I heard the comment that retailers are passing over Thanksgiving this year in favor of pushing Christmas stuff. It's depressing. Christmas should be a warm, intimate time that corporate giants like Wal-Mart shouldn't be allowed to get their greedy hands on.

On Monday Productivity

There's something about winter weather that makes me want to spend the entire day curled up on a couch or in a bed reading books or magazines. I will admit: driving in the snow or on ice sucks big time, and yes, it does get cold in Butte.

While I was up last night, not sleeping, I made a list of ten things that I needed to get done today. And so far, I've only accomplished one of those things. (Getting my hair trimmed) But, I also found a Christmas goodie for my roommate (no, I'm not telling you what it is, because she's a reader of the blog), and finally got around to get a replacement wallet (which I must say is an improvement over what I was using).

I half-way got the spring semester registration thing done, because I did go see my advisor and we did talk about my classes, and I did get that prized alternate PIN number so I can register myself.

I don't know why it's so difficult to return that book I borrowed from the Tech library, either. I don't walk by the building at all during my day, but how hard is it to just walk over and drop the damn book off?

And while I could be doing the other eight and a half things I need to get done today, here I am, blogging away. I'd like to say that if it was sunny outside, or warm, or the library was closer to where I hang out at Tech, I would be more productive, but I kind of doubt that.

The hardest part of the whole productivity thing is getting started. Once that first little bit of forward motion is made, the rest is (relatively) easy.

In the Middle of the Night

I really dislike not being able to sleep. Especially since I'm one of those sleep-deprived college students who have to make up for the lack-of-sleep on the weekend. I even had one of those nifty three-day weekends this time, and slept blissfully through most of it. And now, Sunday night (Monday morning), here I am, typing away when I could be doing something more productive (like sleep). Beware, insomnia-inspired ramblings ahead!

College is really starting to get to me. I'm not quite sure what it is, besides the fact that I don't want to engineer software anymore. The only class that is vital to me graduating in May is the class I'm struggling with. I don't know what my problem is: I go to class, I do the homework, and I do lousy on the tests. I have a test in this class on Thursday, and I'm not exactly thrilled with the prospect of doing lousy on it. I just want to graduate!!! Credit-wise, I've already earned my bachelor's degree. Why can't they give it to me so I can escape and find out what I really want to do with my life?

Why is it so difficult to remember what happened last week, and what you have to do for tomorrow?

Put "The Nightmare Before Christmas" on your must-get DVD list. I can't believe I went so long without seeing that awesome flick. Yes, I had great company, but the movie's merits do hold the movie up on its own. One of these days I'm going to have to get a dog like Zero.

The Extreme Calm Before The Storm

Well I got off easy today. My I&C class was cancelled, so I didn't have to worry about struggling through the lecture on "zombie mode". There's something sleep-inducing about sitting in a chair and absorbing information for more that 30 minutes or so. I only wish I knew about class being cancelled last night (this morning?), so I didn't have to set my alarm until 1100 or so.

I decided to do something productive, and thought the rewrite up for my Writing 2 paper would be appropriate. Except I think I left the paper at home. I guess I'll just do the rewrite over the long weekend, while I dream up a topic for my research paper in that class.

Not that coming up with something to research and babble about is difficult, but the requirements for the topic are: "something we're interested in and know something about". I'm interested in lots of things, and have a vast bank of knowledge stored away somewhere. It's kind of like this whole "what I'm going to do when I grow up" thing. I'm interested in too many things and I know too much about the things I'm not interested in.

Really, my workload for the next week will be minimal. Which spooks me a little, because I know that week before finals week is going to be so stressful. Do professors do this on purpose? Do they band together and say, "Let's give them a week off before we really make their lives miserable"?

On the Eve of the USMC's 230th Birthday

I was originally not going to comment on this subject at all, but I made the mistake of finding this Slate article and the book the author of that article wrote. And that opened all sorts of old wounds and reminded me of that hollow I have yet to fill again with some other crazy dream.

There's something that fundamentally connects me to the Marines. And the sorrow that I can't be part of that culture really tears at me. The fact that they don't want strong-willed, independent, motivated people in their organization for the stupid fact that they can't run fast enough is beyond me. I remember that, when I was sitting in sick bay after I fell out of the run, the corpsman dabbing iodine on my knee said to me, "I've seen you out there. You're one motivated candidate." Motivated. The highest compliment you can give to a Marine-in-training. And then they sent me home. Their loss.

I remember, as a toddler, getting up at 0430 in the morning so I could eat breakfast with Dad before he left for work. I remember helping him lace his boots up before he left. I remember missing him so much when he was deployed for six months out of every year, leaving in June and returning in December. During the first Gulf War, I remember he didn't return home until April 17 because they sent his replacement squadron to Iraq. Dad later told me that if that conflict had dragged out any longer he would have been sent there as well.



A couple years ago I got the wild idea that I needed to try this Marine Officer thing out. And spent the next fifteen months of my life devoted to that one thing. Obviously, it wasn't enough in their book. I wouldn't say that I'm really bitter about it; I have a lot to thank the Marine Corps for. Without the Marine Corps, I wouldn't be the good Catholic girl I am today (OK, you can blame my friend Charles for that too). Without the Marine Corps, I would be struggling with financing school. Without the Marine Corps, I wouldn't be in such great shape (which I've let slide in recent months) and look so good in . . . .whatever it is I look good in. Without the Marine Corps (and Dad's influence), I wouldn't be so pro-American and devoted to doing something for the sake of national security.

Let's not forget the Marines have the coolest uniforms, and their band is called The President's Own. Let's not forget the Marines were training for urban warfare back in the 80's while the Army was still planning for a mass land war in Europe.

There's all sorts of intangible qualities, like respect, honor, and self-confidence that I want so painfully to incorporate into myself. I knew that I could get those things from the Marines, and I don't know where to find them as a civilian.

So sometime this weekend I'll have a drink to the Marines and the Corps they serve. American citizens owe much to those Teufelhunden, the "Angels of Death" who guard our freedom and the walls that keep us safe at night. Oohrah.



(Yeah, I didn't buy into any propaganda at ALL)

I'm A Lot Frustrated At The Moment

Because of the issue with my bank cards, my dad offered to order my plane tickets for this semester break for me while I get everything straightened out.

I told him I couldn't leave until the 22nd or 23rd of December, and told him (bad idea) when classes started up again (18th of January). The conversation went like this:

Dad: "So you can fly back the 17th?" (Dad is all excited)
Me: "Well, I wanted to be back in Butte a few days before classes started." (This is my fault, since I should have said, "I want to be back in Butte a couple days after New Year's")
Dad: "So the 15th?"
Me: "How about the 14th, so I can make Mass the next day." (I don't care for the Catholic church in Cedar City. I should have said the 4th or something.)

What am I going to do for two extra weeks in Cedar City?!? After about the third day or so I get so bored, depressed, and frustrated with the people there that I'm not a lot of fun to be around. Dad knows this, and he's retired, so he can come up and visit me any time he wants. I just don't understand why he insists on keeping me around when he knows (and I definitely know) I'm going to be unhappy. I don't mind visiting my parents; I mind where I visit my parents. At least they're moving to Twin Falls soon. (As in, within the next year)

Don't You Totally Dig Winter?

My friend Dan had this snazzy interview with Micron (in Boise!) yesterday, and Micron flew him back last night. The weather in Butte was seriously crappy for landing planes, so Delta dropped him off in Bozeman. Let me tell you, there are more fun things to do than watching Dan's brother Ben expertly negotiate Homestake Pass when you have maybe 5 feet of visibility.

I found out that the uber-creep (Dan calls him the "creepy little pervert") harasses another girl in my Literature classes as well. Unfortunately for her, she gets to deal with him in her history class every other day. (What I don't understand is why his girlfriend tolerates him hitting on other women, and then gets mad at the other women) Yuck.

I predict I&C will be most mind-numbing today, and that Writing will be short, which means I get to go home early! I hope it's warmed up by this afternoon, however. Chief Meteorologist Mike Heard said it was going to be in the teens today.

Procrastination

I have an 8-page paper due in three hours. I currently have 3 pages written. The introduction and conclusion will probably take a page, so I need to write 4 more pages on "La Marquise de Sade".
Decadent Literature is seriously twisted.

Don't ask why I've procrastinated so long on this. I knew it was coming up.

I like reading the books, not necessarily dreaming up brilliant things to discuss and writing about them.

After this paper is written, I get to sit through three more hours of discussion on "Monsieur de Phocas". I'm going to be seriously drained tonight, and you can give up on asking me anything and expecting an intelligent answer.

Creepy Perverts

There are your average, run-of-the-mill perverts. You meet these guys at the bars and there's something "not quite right" in how they hit on you, or how they dance with you.
Then there are your semi-creepy perverts. The ones that try the really bad lines ("Your balls must be freezing!"). These require a firm shut-down or cold shoulder and they'll leave you alone.

And then. There is your extra creepy pervert. The Cillian Murphy (even though he's cute) in Batman Begins with an insane sex drive. The one who, no matter how many times you shut him down, keeps bothering you.

There has been this fellow from Tech, who, for over two years now, has had this running fantasy of me. This fellow, he's had a girlfriend for over a year, and the first thing that comes out of his mouth the other night is a comment on my hotness. (The Halloween Party. There are photos if you check earlier posts.) He later IMs me and says that I was "so hot" that night, he was a walking hard-on. Classy. (Maybe I'm clueless, but what? Was it the costume? What?)

And he doesn't get it. The only things we talk about are my hotness and sex. And he says, "I'm sorry" when I get frustrated with that. He says that he couldn't "handle me", that I'm "too much" for him. I don't want to know.

He says all he wants is a kiss from me. I tell him to find his girlfriend. Isn't a steady girl enough? His girl is cute; why does he insist on hitting on me when he already has a cute girl? I'm not even attracted to this guy.

And I tell him to go join Facebook and get on Tech's "27 Hottest Women at Tech" group, since it's a private group and I'm sure to be a contender if he can influence the group. Not that I really want to be considered one of Tech's "27 Hottest" when most of the guys are in groups like "Girls Are Stupid" and "Males for the Immigration of Females to Butte". (I've also noticed that there are only 20 guys currently in the "27 Hottest" group. Does this guarantee that all the guys in the group will get to hook up with one of the 27 Hottest?)

Ugh.

Seriously Stupid Music

Since I go out dancing, I've somehow accumulated a modest collection of popular R&B/Hip-Hop/Rap/Pop/Dance tunes that seem to be played quite often in Butte at dances.
The lyrics to some of these songs are seriously stupid. I have a song about a woman revelling in the unique hotness that are her boobs and ass, a song about a woman who is hotter/freakier/whatever than your girlfriend, a song about oral sex, multiple various songs about sex in its various forms, a song telling girls to shake their asses, and a song about a women contemplating taking a fellow home for the night, among others. We're not a primal race at all! (And I'm not sarcastic at all, either)
I mentioned to Katy online that I have some seriously stupid music, and wondering if there was non-stupid music out there one could dance to. Turns out she was listening to country music and wondering the exact same thing.

Now, where is that Gregorian chant CD?

Definitive Pumpkin Muffins

The spice ratio for the pumpkin muffin recipe is:

• 2 tsp cinnamon
• 1 tsp nutmeg
• 1/4 tsp allspice
• 1/4 tsp cloves

Add about a cup of chocolate chips or so and you're set (I didn't quite have that much, so I baked some plain muffins, which are yummy with ginger butter).

What A Beautiful Day!

I walked to class this morning (because I'm leery of driving without having proof of being licensed), and thought that God had given Butte, Montana a most gorgeous day.

I met a man whose dog, Tripp, is the prettiest Siberian Husky/German Shepherd mix I've seen.

I had a lovely short conversation with J before class this morning.

I thank God for allowing Alex and myself to grow our budding friendship. I've always found it difficult to make friends, and it's a good feeling to know that it's still possible - I'm not completely broken!

I don't know what's come over me, but it's great.

Well, I Guess You Could Call Me A Passionate Person

For you, kissing is about all about following your urges
If someone's hot, you'll go in for the kiss - end of story
You can keep any relationship hot with your steamy kisses
A total spark plug - your kisses are bound to get you in trouble

You're an Passionate Kisser

What Kind of Kisser Are You?

The Jury's In . . .

Idealist (NF)

You are a passionate, caring, and unique person.
You are good at expressing yourself and sharing your ideals.

You are the most compassionate of all types and connect with others easily.
Your heart tends to rule you. You can't make decisions without considering feelings.

You seek out other empathetic people to befriend.
Truth and authenticity matters in your friendships.

In love, you give everything you have to relationships. You fall in love easily.

At work, you crave personal expression and meaning in your career.

With others, you communicate well. You can spend all night talking with someone.

As far as your looks go, you've likely taken the time to develop your own personal style.

On weekends, you like to be with others. Charity work is also a favorite pastime of yours.

Your Personality Is

The Three Question Personality Test

Don't Call Me

I did go out last night to the KC, and had a blast. I dressed up as a Catholic school girl (Obviously. And when I got to the party I rolled up my sleeves so I didn't look like a complete nerd).

Other than the fact someone ripped the buttons right off my Merc jacket and stole my wallet, my cell phone, and even the lipstick/lipgloss I was carrying with me. Thank God they left my keys so at least I could get home.

So don't call me for a few days until I can get the whole phone thing straightened out.

I don't know how many times I've been out in town and was perfectly safe leaving my jacket on a chair somewhere. And this was a school-sponsored event! WTF?!

Wigging Out

My ex-fiance, while I don't hate him, I don't feel any real love for him either. Last year he taunted me constantly whenever we ran into each other in town, and I'm neither witty nor clever enough to come up with equally hurtful taunts (which is probably a good thing). I wanted to pull a "STFU!" domokun. (I guess you would have to see the image. It's hilarious.)
The rumor about him being in town this weekend is true. I saw his pickup at the Greens today, probably visiting with the people he used to room with.
I hope, no, I pray that I don't see him tomorrow night. I hope that he goes back to wherever he came from after his exam tomorrow. Knowing my luck, he'll be too tired/stressed to drive back and he'll go out partying tomorrow after the test. So then I have to hope that he doesn't know about the $10 (for men; it's only $8 for the ladies) all-you-can-drink costume party at the KC. And if he does, I hope that the supreme Catholicness of the building will keep him away.

The Most Productive Thing I Did Today

I finished my rosary today. I think I would have had it done yesterday, but I took the St. Michael (my patron saint who I chose at my Confirmation) medal down to have it engraved with my given names, the date I entered the Catholic faith and the motto "Semper Fidelis". I know I'm not affiliated with the Marine Corps any longer, but it is a good motto and has religious value.
I used Swarovski Austrian crystals; clear/crystal ones for the Hail Mary beads (for my birthstone) and green/emerald ones for the Our Father beads (my favourite colour).
The center is a Miraculous Mary medal and the crucifix is a Pardon Crucifix. On the back it reads: "Behold this heart which has so loved men - Father forgive them".
I was chatting with an old high school friend today about it (she is not Catholic) and she asked me about St. Michael. So, here is a website you can learn about the most kick-ass archangel out there. Don't be messing with the angel that puts the devil in his place!

The Other Most Productive Thing I Did This Summer

Here is the other quilt I made this summer, from a Civil War era pattern in "Vintage Quilts". I picked the fabrics out myself, and wished that I used more greens and cut back on the golds, but I think it turned out nicely.

Can't Sleep While I'm Medicated

My favourite professor happens to deliberately not keep up with American pop culture, and uses myself and another nerdy professor as his sources for all things that have to do with American culture. (If you don't believe me, I had to explain what a "mosh pit" is to him. Yes, this blew me away that a fellow could be alive and living in the States for 40+ years and not know what a mosh pit is.)

I don't know why, but if you can shock/surprise this guy with something supremely witty, his reaction to the supremely witty thing is priceless. Think of a grown man laughing hard enough to weep. I don't know too many men who can do that.

A couple of weeks ago, I was lamenting on my bad experiences involving creepy men at the Irish Times to this particular professor. I said to him, "What I need is to find myself a lesbian dance club in Butte, and then I won't have any of these problems anymore!". His reaction to this (knowing the ludicrousness of finding any decent dance club, much less a lesbian dance club, in Butte helps to know why this is so freakishly funny) was so intense that he said to me afterward, "Diane, I thought I had it down to where anything could come out of your mouth and it wouldn't surprise me. I was wrong."

Discussing a recent asshole in my life, I mentioned addressing the fellow as "Most Honourable Recent Asshole" (in a pseudo-Asian-sage voice, with a little bow) which this professor also got a kick out of. Nerdy humor. Because we're stuck in the Museum Lab all day long, day after day and week after bloody week. And it gets to us. (Note: There's something strange about knowing the night security guards by name and being able to chat them up when they make their rounds of Museum building)

The thing I know for certain that I will always laugh at is the scene in Office Space where Samir asks his coworkers about the fax machine: "Why does it say 'paper jam' when there is no paper jam? I swear to God, one of these days, I just kick this piece of shit out the window." There is something so truly hilariously tragic on that piece of celluloid that I will never tire of. Maybe you just have to be in Samir's shoes to truly take advantage of the joy.

Endnote: I've totally fallen for Michael Buble's voice. Any fellow who can sing like that gets an A grade in my book. Maybe it's the "Sinatra of the new millenium" thing or whatever, but ever since I heard him sing the Spiderman theme in the theater I thought he was one of the coolest living vocalists around. Plus, he has a version of "Sway" floating around somewhere (I think the soundtrack to Las Vegas). And I dig that song.

All Sorts of Things Have Been Afoot

I realized that my blogging has mostly been covering the insanity that is my love life, and decided to discuss more uplifting things (and the insanity as well).

I've been battling a mystery plague which I've discovered is just a cold today. So, I stocked up on Cold-Eeze (Yes, it really does work!), Robitussin and Tylenol today. (They say they make a Robitussin for everything, but it's not true! My symptoms are either not completely covered, or I have to take something that includes stuff for symptoms I don't have!) Because of the yuckiness, I think I'm going to skip the Irish Times' Pimp 'n' Ho party Friday night and just go to the Knights of Columbus Halloween Party Saturday night.

My friend Dan thinks my purple toe separators (for pedicures) are cute. (He's straight, too, ladies! Too bad he has a girlfriend already!)

I made pumpkin muffins for RCIA tonight. I made some alterations to the recipe. I used a can of Libby's pumpkin puree instead of pureeing a pumpkin myself, and changed the spice amounts. I used:

• 2 teaspoons of cinnamon
• 1 teaspoon of nutmeg
• 1/2 teaspoon of allspice
• 1/3 teaspoon of cloves

I cheated a bit when I mixed everything together. I wanted to only dirty one bowl (because I'm lazy), so I mixed the pumpkin mixture first, then added, in this order, the sugar, the salt and spices, the baking soda and powder, and the flour, one cup at a time. The recipe lies: you can actually make 24 normal sized muffins with this recipe, so while the first batch (my oven can only hold one muffin tin at a time) was baking, I added a couple handfuls of semi-sweet chocolate chips to the batter. I couldn't find miniature chocolate chips, but with Ghirardelli chocolate, who cares?

My new Dr. Marten Mary Janes came in yesterday (that I've been waiting two months for!), so I think I'm going to dress up as a Catholic school girl (green minikilt, white shirt, black skinny tie, white socks and Mary Janes. Haven't decided on fishnets or not. Since it's always cold in Butte for Halloween, I'm going to wear my Harrington jacket with a Fred Perry "badge" pin as well. Details, people. Details.) for Halloween even though I have several other characters I could go as.

I have a high probability of running into my ex-fiance this weekend, as I heard a rumor he'll be in town for the EIT exam. Knowing him, he'll probably want to go boozing after the test on Saturday, and hopefully will stay at the Vu and not venture near the KC. (As he's staunchly anti-Catholic, but maybe he's too slow to figure out the connection to the KC) Not that running into him would be a big deal, since we've been apart longer now than we were together, but I just have the feeling he'll want to start arguing over the dead relationship again. Or at least say some not-nice things to me. I'm not very good at dreaming up not-nice things to say on-the-fly (which is probably a good thing), but I do have some juicy things I could say that would be embarassing for him. Like the fact I overheard he lives in either San Francisco or Sacramento now (and, being a complete homophobe, must just rile him), and that I heard he was so proud about his internship at Micron (in his own words, keeping hot and cold water lines separated and how that's, like, the most important thing in the world to do).

Typing Bytes

Made it down to the Clinique counter at Herberger's today to check out their new line of "Black Honey" products. For the uninitiated, "black honey" is the color of a particular lipcolor that is absolutely divine. If you don't believe me, check out Liv Tyler's lips in the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy. One of the frivolous items I dumped some money on is the nail polish set in "black honey"; one is a plain, matte color and the other has coppery sparkles in it. Quite possibly, it's the perfect Halloween nail color.

I also went to Garden of Beadin' to get some sterling silver wire to make "bows" for my new rosary. Bows are these wire fasteners that are supposed to be much stronger than using jump rings to attach the center and the crucifix. And since I'm about fed up with jump rings (not that they fall apart on me but it's hell trying to get them to close and look nice), I decided to give the wire bows a shot. I ended up buying the fixings to make some pale blue/green chandelier earrings (except for the earwires; I'll need to get those later) as well. As if I didn't have better things to do.

My mom is doing good; the day after she got back from Taiwan, Dad took her up to Idaho because he had a V.A. appointment. Of course they don't bother to tell me and so I was up half the night worrying about them.

Didn't go to dance tonight (there's a free social dance class at the Scandia Thursday nights) because my knees are bugging me for some reason. So the cardio has been limited to w-a-l-k-i-n-g on the treadmill and the stationary bike.

RCIA will be a lot of fun this go around. I think I'm going to try and make Pumpkin Muffins for next week.

The dinner at the Handleys' went well. Mrs. Handley sure can cook.

Random Thoughts. And Get Yourself Some Confession.

Well, for the most part, my weekend was thoroughly unproductive. Friday, I went to confession, which was, and always has been for me, completely liberating. I don't know exactly how to describe the sensation of confessing your sins and receiving absolution for them. All I know is that it works. Get yourself some.

Saturday I slept, pretty much all day. Same with Sunday, except for that little bit when I went to Mass. I think I did laundry Sunday as well.

Mom's going to be home today. Her plane comes into Las Vegas at 2030 tonight.

I got some help with my homework for Process Instrumentation & Control today. So that will be finished for tomorrow.

My paper due tomorrow (my fantasy vacation, apparently, is a pilgrimage to Rome) won't be too difficult to grind out.

Dinner with the Handley family Wednesday night will be lovely.

And because Katy got tagged, I thought it would be interesting to post this (since I have little else to babble about), here goes:

Ten Years Ago: I was 12, attending Red Rock 6th Grade Center (was it called Red Rock? I don't know; all I remember is they tore it down the year after)

Five Years Ago: I was 17, attending my senior year at Cedar City High School. I knew already that I was going to be attending Montana Tech and had major senioritis (but ironically, didn't start skipping class until college).

One Year Ago: I had just gotten dumped by the Lieutenant I dated from Malmstrom in one of the worst ways possible. Huh. I had also just started RCIA as well.

Five Snacks: Spinach & Artichoke Dip, Homemade Chex Mix, Grasshopper cookies, those Laughing Cow Swiss Cheese wedges, and Haagen Daaz Ice Cream (any flavor, preferably strawberry or peaches 'n cream)

Five Songs I Know All The Words To: Finnegan's Wake, the Gloria at Mass (God I'm a nerd), Amazing Grace (only two verses), I'm Goin' Up a Yonder, Adeste Fidelis (first verse only)

Five Things I Would Do With $100 Million: Pay off all my debts (and my parents' debts too), Build a nice house, Get a dog, Buy some nice duds and invest the rest.

Five Things I Would Never Wear: Those jeans with the bleaching in "that" place. Those poncho things that are so popular. A burlap sack. "Body" jewelry (those funky temporary tattoo things that are like little rhinestones?). Any clothes bought at Wal-Mart.

Five Favorite TV Shows: Law & Order: SVU. Conan O'Brian. Perry Mason. Emeril Live. Becker.

Five Biggest Joys: Going to Confession. Going to Mass. Giving/Receiving Hugs. Sleeping. Eating Great Food.

Five Favorite Toys: Computer. Cell Phone. iPod. That rubber ball from Hess Corp. that lights up when you throw it. Resident Evil 4.

Random Stuff

Dad finished his guided hunt, and brought back the heart and liver of his buffalo for me. The liver had to be cut into thirds to fit into the cooler, and I gave the heart and one-third of the liver to Mrs. Handley. (I don't know how to cook heart and would have probably botched the thing; besides, the Handleys' are a family and there's no way I could have eaten the entire heart by myself, since I don't know any friends adventurous enough to try it out) Dad should be up again in a few weeks to retrieve the meat, and probably the hide and skull as well.

So now I have a LOT of fresh buffalo liver sitting in my freezer.

I'm having second thoughts about cheerleading. There's only one football game they will be cheering at, and with the way my schedule is, I'm busy three evenings out of the week, which makes it difficult to try and work in practices. Not only that, but women are. . .women.

It looks like my photo shoot with the photographer in Missoula should be sometime soon, which is exciting for me. It'll be nice to do something artsy that's non-school related. Not that Tech is particularly artsy about anything. Plus, in 20 years or so it'll be nice to remember that I used to be a total dish.

My roommate mentioned I should somehow record or save all my crazy antics for the Great Satire. This is the reason why I must go on these crazy antics: to experience and preserve the insanity for others' amusement.

Today

I had a test today in Process Instrumentation & Control, which I think went all right. I forgot some of the funky acronyms (they just dream shit up for those anyway) for the diagram problem, but the RTD and thermocouple problems I'm fairly certain I did right. I also think I got the tank problem right as well.

I had an interview with Computer Compliance after the test, which went well. They sound hungry for software people. I should have a second interview with them sometime in the next couple of weeks. They have clients like Pfizer, even though their corporate office is out of Bozeman. I'm not sure I'd like to live and work in Bozeman, but hey, it's a job, and it'll get me some of that much needed experience.

Update

I just received a phone call from my mother, who is doing good. She should be back in the States on the 17th or so. She also mentioned she bought another pretty scarf (in burgandy, the rich, fall version of the red J is so fond of me wearing) for me, and that the family business she went over there for is almost wrapped up. The next time the Tech bookstore has a sale, I can pick up some shirts for my cousins. It would certainly be interesting if a Tech alum saw a couple guys wearing Digger shirts halfway around the world.

The Rest of the Story

For some reason today I've been dealing with a lot of stress.

In the background I've been dealing with the untimely death of my dog. While not technically a person, she was a good companion and a highlight of my visits to my parents.

This morning I realize that my interview with Micron was supposed to be in Bozeman tomorrow morning, instead of in Butte whenever. So I made some phone calls and got that taken care of.

You're going to need some backstory for this one. Friday evening, right before my date-that-didn't-happen, Janice and I get a knock on the door. It's the woman who lives below us, and her friend (who I've never met). Apparently, this woman's friend accidentally locked them out of their apartment, and they needed a ride downtown to where the woman's husband was having an interview to get the husband's key to get back in. Janice was just getting ready to leave for her date-that-didn't-happen (for entirely different reasons), and she said that she could take one of them down in the mini-pickup she drives. The women decided they wanted to stay together, and so I offered that Janice drive my Jeep. Janice said she was afraid to drive my Jeep. The friend wanted to know if the women could borrow my Jeep, which I didn't want to, because let's face it, I don't let just anybody I know drive my Jeep. And I, obviously, couldn't leave the apartment because I still thought I had a date. The girls make a phone call from our place and then wait for someone else to take them downtown.

This morning I see my downstairs neighbor before my first class, and ask him if his wife got back into their apartment OK. He gets all fussy and says, "Yeah, no thanks to you!" and storms off. So apparently, they have no other neighbors, AND they expect Janice and myself to drop everything we're doing to cater to them whenever they have a mini-emergency. If I didn't have plans, I would have been more than happy to take the women downtown. And it's not like Janice and I didn't try to help them out.

As I told my mentor-professor, I need to find a lesbian dance club in Butte (like one exists!) to hang out at, just so I can keep myself out of trouble with the men. I think it's starting to get to the point where mein prof will expect me to say just about any quirky thing, which means I'm getting predictable. Must push the boundaries of normalcy further out!!!!!!

The Sweet Ones Always Die

Little Taipei. I saved her from an animal shelter a week after some sick bastard murdered Lai-Foo (Lucky Comes, in Chinese), my white wolf mix.
Turns out another sick bastard ran over her sometime this weekend. Dad wouldn't tell me exactly when. I know Dad blames himself because he let her loose to get some exercise, and she insisted on chasing some cars. Dad called her to come back, and she didn't listen. Dad later heard her barking, but didn't go to check on her. When she wasn't home the next morning, he went looking for her and found her.
I don't know why anyone would want to hurt an animal. Even the arrogant dogs and cats in Butte I slow down for, and make sure I don't hit.
Yet another reason I'm so insanely frustrated with the sheep-farming bastards in Utah.
Taipei was probably the smartest little dog I've had the pleasure to know. She was too smart, in fact, because sometimes she wouldn't perform commands when you asked her to. But she knew how to sit, to lie down, roll over, shake hands. Taipei would come (most of the time) to you when you called for her. She was a little ball of energy that loved to run. If I was home more often and ran a little better, she would have been the perfect running companion. She was always happy to see me, and always afraid of strangers. Taipei loved attention, and she loved to play. She had a sweet personality; I've never known her to dare bite a person, even in play.
Dad wants to get me another dog when my parents find another house and settle in, but I honestly don't know when I'll be settled enough to get a dog. I don't even know what kind of dog I'd like. Jack Russells are fairly smart, and make good running companions. And even something like an Australian Cattle Dog would be nice. Mutts are fine, too.

Update

I received a letter from my mom today. She's in Taiwan right now, taking care of a family emergency, and I haven't heard from her in weeks. I miss her lots.

Everything is going great, and my mom might stay a couple extra weeks than we originally planned.

She sent me a pretty embroidered scarf, which is absolutely lovely, but I don't have anything that will go with it. As much as people complain about stuff from Taiwan and China, they have the loveliest things there.

Keys!

There I am, jamming out to Genesis' "Invisible Touch" while getting ready for class this morning. Cute outfit, check. Books, check. Keys, check. Will grab them before leaving. Vitamins, check. Phone, check.

"She seems to have an invisible touch! Yeah!
She reaches in, and grabs right hold of your heart
She seems to have an invisible touch! Yeah!
It takes control, and slowly tears you apart"

Grab the bag, walk out the door, close the door, and oh. No keys. Well shit.

Call the roommate. Turns out she forgot her keys too! No matter, will figure it out at lunch.

Good thing I left early enough to make it to class on time. Not that it mattered; I don't think you could butcher Shakespeare any more than my professor has.

On a completely different subject, I've been wondering if I'm not as inconspicuous as I'd like to be. Most new people I meet (usually at the Vu or other non-campus hangout) generally say, "Yeah, I've seen you around campus," as a first remark. While I'm flattered that people notice me (and yet don't talk to me) on campus, I know for a fact that I don't generally recognize people on campus unless I know them from a class or something. (And even then, the chances are slim I'd recognize anybody)
The other day I was studying in the Digger Den, and some fellow comes up to me and starts a conversation on the military, all because he had seen me speaking to a Navy Lt. at the Career Fair. There were a ton of people at that Career Fair, and I only spoke to that Naval officer for a few minutes!
Do I look so different from other people that I just don't blend in? I've never felt completely integrated no matter what environment I've been in (which, I might add, would give me a unique, objective eye as a journalist), but am I so odd that I can't even blend in on my own campus? One of the few places I feel at home?

By the way, if you notice me on campus, say hello. I promise I'll smile and say hello back.

Who Needs Another Drink?

Your Seduction Style: Au Natural

You rank up there with your seduction skills, though you might not know it. That's because you're a natural at seduction. You don't realize your power! The root of your natural seduction power: your innocence and optimism. You're the type of person who happily plays around and creates a unique little world. Little do you know that your personal paradise is so appealing that it sucks people in. You find joy in everything - so is it any surprise that people find joy in you? You bring back the inner child in everyone you meet with your sincere and spontaneous ways. Your childlike (but not childish) behavior also inspires others to care for you. As a result, those who you befriend and date tend to be incredibly loyal to you.

What Kind of Seducer Are You?

Maybe it's just that I've been "naturally" seducing all these . . .poor quality fellows and I just didn't know it. So . . .how do I channel that energy into attracting someone worthwhile? (First: buy red heels. Second: more red blouses. Because while my friend Jesse may (or may not) be a playa, at least he was right about me in red)

G-O! Let's Go Diggers! G-O Let's Go!

I used to be a cheerleader, back in the day, in a former life. I cheerlead for Montana Tech my freshman and part of my sophomore years of college. Football games (especially when you could muster crowd participation) were the best to cheer for. Basketball, not so much (I blame the bad acoustics of the gym and rowdy fans).
Tonight and tomorrow night there will be mandatory pre-practices before tryouts for people interested in cheerleading. The woman setting all of this up is willing to be a real coach, which I'm excited about. She's willing to fight for us to have Tech pay for uniforms and shoes, and necessities like that. She told me the new uniforms are green, copper and white, with copper bloomers. I'm totally stoked. I'm beyond stoked. I'm transcendentally stoked.
The first game the cheerleaders will be at is Homecoming (October 8, I do believe).
These girls don't know how good they have it. Tech's paying (Or someone is donating) for three different uniform tops and skirts, three different underarmor undershirts (including one that has tri-color braid), cold weather pants, shoes, socks, warm ups, two sets of show poms, personalized bag and megaphone, big poms to make the megaphone look cute, water bottles, those little sweatband bracelets, temp. tattoos for the face, a variety of embroidered bloomers (what you wear under the skirt). . . I don't know what else. I'm feeling spoiled. Tech cheering has never had it so good.
I'm very excited about maybe getting to cheer again. I really miss cheering at football games, and even if I only get to cheer at one last football game, it would be worth the experience.

Adventures In Custom Clothing

So after years of being frustrated by what jeans I could find (apparently, athletic women don't wear jeans or they are like me and live with ill-fitting jeans), I decided to see what custom-made jeans were all about. The site I tried (as if you couldn't tell by the pocket logo) is http://custom.tommy.com. You answer a handful of questions regarding the type of jean you would like (these are low rise, kitchen-sink finish, no back label, signature pocket design, straight cut, button fly, copper oxide buttons/rivets, green button-hole thread) and some questions about your body (height, weight, bra size, what your tummy, thighs and seat look like, etc.) and give them money.
About a month later (and probably dozens of Mexican sweat-shop hours), UPS drops your new jeans off at your doorstep.
Below are the jeans that I had custom made for me. They are the most comfy jeans I've tried on to date, and fit better than any other jeans I've tried. There's a little poochiness in the front, even though I told them my stomach was flat (maybe it's because I have big thighs). But I think I can live with it. Is the expense worth it? I'm not sure yet. We'll see how well they stand the test of time. If I end up wearing these more than my Levi 501s, then yes. Will I ever get another pair of custom made jeans? If well-fitting denim has the power to move mountains (and men's hearts) and raise grades, then definitely.

Life Bytes

My favourite new drink is the Amaretto Sour, which I tried the other night when an old school pal offered to buy me a drink. I told him to surprise me, and I was pleasantly surprised. Something about the combination of almond flavour and carbonated water and alcohol.

I was able to finally use my calling card for its intended purpose the same night as well. I had some printed up because I thought it would be more classy to hand a fellow a pretty card with my name and phone number on it than it would to scribble the same information on a cocktail napkin.

The Career Fair was disappointing. Of course, I knew it would be for me, since employers that specialize in national security other than the military were absent from the Fair. But it was nice to chat it up with my cousin's boss, who gave me some pointers and took my resume anyway.

I've been debating whether or not I should take this extra history course next semester and get a Liberal Studies minor. Which would be nice, but I'm not sure I really want to sit through a 3000 or 4000 level history course. I'm not even sure if I'd have the pre-reqs for it, unless it was on American History or a Special Topics course or something.

I've offered to model for a photographer in Missoula, which should end up being an interesting experience. At the very least, I'll get some prints from the shoot.

I was going to go to the Tech-Minot game today, but it was yucky out so I opted to stay inside and catch up on reading Literature. A half-hour into it, I took a nap that lasted the entire game. Must have needed the sleep.

Evan & The Vu

My cousin Evan is flying into Butte tonight, to recruit people at Tech's Career Fair tomorrow. Since I have no siblings of my own, Evan is the prime candidate for a surrogate older brother.

We're going to hit the Vu for a beer tonight, and then I'll get to see him tomorrow between classes (since the Career Fair at Tech doesn't exactly have companies/agencies I'm interested in working for, I have nothing better to do than say hello to my cousin) at the Fair.

Anyway, I'm thoroughly stoked about seeing my cousin. Sadly, we don't look alike enough for people to catch we're related on first glance, so I get a lot of, "Are you Mrs. ____?" when I meet people he knows. Which is really strange, since we're 11 years apart. Maybe I just look old. Or he looks young.

Evan used to play football for Tech (back in the day), and just got inducted into Tech's Athletic Hall of Fame. He used to live in NOLA, but thankfully moved to Houston a few years ago. It's Evan's fault I'm going to Tech. (Not that I'm complaining; I've received a pretty good education here)

The photo below is from Tech's Athletic Banquet in April of this year, with Coach Green on the left, me in the center, and Evan on the right.

My Favourite Painting

When I was visiting Europe, I got the great opportunity to go to the Louvre in Paris. Now, while I will admit to having a bad experience there, I did see some great stuff. One of these days I'll go to Europe again and have a better experience at the Louvre, maybe take a guided tour (that might help with the utter confusion of wandering a former palace) or learn to read maps better. Anyway, I did get to see the "Mona Lisa", which I wasn't too impressed with, and that famous painting of the French Revolution where a bare-breasted woman is being. . .revolutionary. But this particular painting, Delaroche's "La Jeune Martyr", was my favourite. I couldn't find a better image, but there is another fellow down by the riverbank. Sadly, most of the prints you find are just the closeup of the martyr.
I remember trying to navigate out of the painting section of the museum (because I wanted to see the Egyptian art, damnit!), and this stopped me in my tracks. I almost wish I got a full-sized reproduction of it at the gift shop, because it's so beautiful. Years later, the only thing great I can say about my visit to the Louvre is that I got to see this piece of art there, in the flesh. I'm in no way an art critic, and I prefer photography to paint, but this piece is incredible.

The Most Productive Thing I Did All Summer

So, after failing the initial PFT at Quantico and flying back to Butte, I got the notion I should take up quilting. So, as my first project (I'd never done patchwork quilting before), I pick "Fiesta" from the Quilts Ole quilting shop in New Mexico, which was featured in this summer's Quilt Sampler magazine. What you see above is the most productive thing I accomplished this summer.

Which is so depressing to me. You'd think you could get more done in a summer than make a couple quilts, spend a few days in Quantico, go to Warped Tour and move to an apartment a little more than a mile away from your current one.

Just Another Saturday

The photo was taken this morning at the entrance of the Lewis & Clark Caverns. Ironically, Lewis & Clark passed right by the caverns (Clark on the Jefferson River, Lewis above the caverns' entrance). Teddy Roosevelt named the caverns when the property was deeded to the Montana State government for use as a state park.
The caverns were interesting; I was under the impression I would get to 'do' something more than the cushy guided tour, but that's OK. I can go spelunking another day.
After returning to Butte, I went to a friend's and played Resident Evil 4 until I had vented off enough pent-up energy.
And that's about it. I did the dishes, checked the e-mail (my mother is safely in Taiwan, and my grandmother is very happy to see her, for those keeping up), and ate some leftover take-out from the other night.
I'm now going to sit on my couch, continue reading J.K. Huysman's Against Nature, drink some tea (or Guinness, depending on how the book starts to turn out), and go to sleep early so I can wake up for Mass at 0800. Hey, at least I can walk to church then, which is a luxury I've missed out on since moving.

Advantages to Working for a TLA

I was chatting with one of my favourite professors today, and he brought up a brilliant point.

When I work for a TLA (Three Letter Agency), I'll probably have lots of girlfriends that do a similar job at the TLA (unlike at Tech, where girls, especially in Computer Science/Software Engineering, are few and very far between), and have a pretty good idea of who the dickwads are in the Washington DC area.

This professor describes a scene in a restaurant or club, when I say to a fellow, "Uh, sorry, but according to the dossier my friends have compiled on you, you're a scumbag. Goodbye." And then snap a photo with my phone so the file can be updated.

I don't really think this will ever happen (because, seriously, national security is much more important than a bunch of single girls keeping a file system on the local lowlifes), but the idea of it is entertaining.

The Language Barrier

Well, Mom apparently is safely on her way to Taipei. Eva Air says the flight is "early", which in my experience rarely happens. She will arrive at about 22:10 tomorrow night, local time. I don't know when she's even getting back. She has a visa that will allow her to stay in-country for 60 days, but I *think* she's coming back in October.

While the reason why my mother is going to be out of the country is completely valid, I'm going to miss her a lot. She's my best friend (yeah, I'm a nerd, I know), and we chat on the phone all the time. I'm actually kind of jealous that she's going over, because the food there is so very delicious.

Mom's been teaching me bits of Mandarin, which we use on the phone. When I visit my favourite Math professor's wife, who is Chinese, I tell her all the new phrases I've learned and what I can remember from my last visit. I'm far, far from being conversational in Mandarin, but it's a lot of fun.

I wish Mom had brought me up bilingual. While I understand why she only wanted me to learn English growing up, it would be so cool to be fluent in another language. All the multi-racial kids (mostly Asian/White descent) I knew in California are bilingual, and I feel kind of left out.

Language is such an important part of human culture, and I feel I've missed out on a lot of my heritage. Especially since most of American culture disappoints me.

It sucks not being able to even communicate to your relatives. Even though English proficency is mandatory in Taiwanese and Chinese schools (you even have to pass an English test to get your college degree), that does not necessarily mean the people educated there are fluent in English.

It would be nice to visit Taiwan next summer when I get done with school and the only thing I have to worry about is my (other) best friend's wedding in August. And hopefully starting the new job (don't know what it is yet) in September. That would be a lovely plan.