Thursday, October 28, 2010

A Problem Shared

Some people say that a problem shared is a problem halved. In some cases this doesn't work, but in others, it works wonders to get a little bit of a load off of your shoulders.

In reality though, it's more like a problem shared is a problem divided. It's probably not half, or even a quarter, but I'm glad to get something like a twentieth of my geometry problem off of my shoulders. And I'll be getting a big ol' chunk of band off of my shoulders with a little help from Lovely Linda, my band director. And probably some Geometry with that, too, because Linda is amazing and will also help me with these tough things.

I'm out.



"People must think we're weird, just dancing in the corner!"
"And then the Goblins will be in the background dancing like this: *dances*"
"RADIATION . . *techno sounds* . . RADIATION . . *techno sounds* . ."

Aaaand, here's one from E-Saur, who plays Wall, and who enjoys molesting people at every opportunity possible.

Me: Why don't you ever molest Tim? *points to Tim*
E: Honestly, I just don't like gingers. Not that I have anything against you--
Tim: *Covers self with hoodie and fake sobs* Nobody loves meeeeee!!!!! *Huddles in corner*

Sunday, October 24, 2010


I frustrate myself sometimes. Like just a little while ago.

I was trying to catch up on Geometry homework, and . . .

This is hard to put into words. Let's just skip to the part where I'm mad at myself and almost crying. I realized that I'm stuck in an infinite math loop.

I have appointments. I miss class. I don't get notes from said class. I am unable to do any work that has to do with that subject. I fall behind. I have appointments.

Right now is NOT the time for this to be happening. I'm sick, I'm missing school, I have too many medical problems, and I CANNOT be failing. Biology I can handle. Math I can not. This all gives me a headache and makes me just want to have a mental breakdown for five minutes and after that, everything will go back to normal.

That's not going to happen. I don't want to bring Mr. P into my stupid personal problems (even though I have enough of them to share . . .) because I'm afraid he would think differently of me, or -- even worse -- not be able to do anything to work with me about this.

You know that feeling when you're playing a game of chess, and your opponent has your last piece cornered and it finally hits you -- you have no place to go? There is no way out of this situation -- game over. You lose. You know that feeling? Try thinking about how that would feel in real life. It makes you tear up. It makes your head hurt, and your stomach knot, and a feeling of dread comes over you, like a horrible, dense, black cloud above your head, and you're just waiting for the lightning to strike to make things worse.

I don't think I'll be sleeping very well tonight. Not with this weighing on my shoulders, like the sky upon Atlas's.

After how many years of horrible stress, insomnia, and a bunch of other crap, I think it all just crashed into me. It's making me physically nauseous. I don't feel physically up to doing anything. I don't feel like I can even sleep right now.

Why can't I just have a normal day? Where there isn't anything due, and I'm not busy with some deadline or some project, and there's nothing important going on, no emergencies to wake me up in the morning or at night, nothing to worry about, nothing to do at all. No stupid computer to stress over, no lines to memorize, to upcoming medical tests to tense me up, no sickness to hold me back, nothing breaking, nothing going wrong, I just want everything to go perfectly smoothly for ONE DAY.

My sickness seems to be the cause of so much stress, among other things. Right now, I feel a little faint.

I'm a slave to my sickness. I don't want to be. I want to be free from this.

I'm sick of being sick. I want to march (OK, drive. Whatever) to my doctor and ask him to just do whatever on earth would be required to find out what's wrong with me and what will cure me.

I feel like I have no conscious control over what my body feels. No matter what I do, it just does it's own thing.

I just want to crawl into bed and sleep until I'm an adult when I won't have to deal with all this teenage crap.

I'm going to try and get some sleep.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Cakey Confirm (No-serious post)

So, I'm going through Confirmation at my church. It takes two years for us Catholics, but it's really quick for other religions (for some reason). So I've been thinking about who my Saint should be (I'm thinking St Dymphna or St Elizabeth of Hungary -- they're the patrons of mental illness and bakers, respectively) and who should be my sponsor (Mrs. Rossow -- we're tight) and about service hours (I have to do a crap ton of community service. As if I don't do a ton already. Twenty hours or something, but Sue expects me -- and only me -- to do a lot more. I actually have no problem with that). But then, something came along. I saw something, and now I know exactly what the light is at the end of the tunnel (of confirmation, that is). I probably get a cake when I'm done. And what will it look like? That, my friends, is the image I saw. On CakeWrecks.



Geekyness, cake, Jesus, it just all rolls up into my nerdy Catholicness. Yes. I want this cake for confirmation achievement (or confirmation get, if you prefer).

I thought this would be a good follow up to my serious post. I hope it is.

Monday, October 11, 2010

Serious post is Serious

TUNES: My Chemical Romance, Welcome to the Black Parade
MOOD: Contemplative.

I think I'll apologize up front for a very, very serious post. So, sorry (your mileage may vary).

So, we've recently been reading a book about the Vietnam War by a Minnesotan author named Tim O'Brien.

It's kind of strange to say, but it's made me think about real life more than most books I've read have. More than '1984' and 'Fahrenheit 451' and 'Animal Farm.' I mean, it made me think about myself, and how I apply to life.

One of the questions Mr. Szoka asked us one morning (I have English Honors in the morning) was if we would hop the border (to Canada, obviously) or go to war if we were drafted. It was about fifty-fifty.

I was one of the people who would have fled. I would never participate in a pointless war. Or any war. This decision came both with just personal opinion, and intimate knowledge that, when exposed to the right elements, any decent human being can become a monster.

"Battle not with Monsters, lest ye become a Monster, and if you gaze into the Abyss, the Abyss gazes also into you."
- Friedrich Nietzsche

Friedrich Nietzsche, everyone.

Then, there are the obvious reasons that I WOULDN'T get drafted. Y'know, the main one being that I'm female (at the moment, that's the big one), to top that one off, I have flat feet, am a pacifist, and have about eight trillion medical problems. I don't think any military branch would touch me -- let alone the U.S. Army.

Branching back on to the 'what would I do' thing, here was Tim's response to why he would STAY:

"You owe it to your country, they provide you . . . blah blah blah . . ."

I don't pay taxes. I owe the government nothing until I start paying them and then getting a tax return. Gimme some free higher education and lower poverty rates and I'll think about it. Maybe.

It's a free country for a reason. I can have my opinion that the Government shouldn't be doing something, and if I'm against it (like I am with the pledge of allegiance), I shouldn't have to do it (which I don't).

(Liberty and Justice for all my butt. Women and homosexuals are still pretty much getting the shaft.)

I seriously have not willingly said the Pledge of Allegiance since seventh grade. Four years. And people still ask me 'WHY?'

I think I'm going to end now because my train of thought has wandered back to it's usual path -- which is cupcakes.