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.