YAY FOR HALLOWEEN!

Good Thing: Watching creepy documentaries on the Amityville Horror snuggled up with someone big and strong
Bad Thing: Sitting alone in my room listening to my all of the sudden haunted speakers.

creepy quote for today: "Wake up number 37. . . " tied with "Mom, do angels talk? . . . because I think there's an angel in my bedroom. .. "

EEEEEeeeeek!! WHY DO I SCARE MYSELF ON PURPOSE?

Ok, last thing, I have all my gear, minus my plastic cutlass (which was stolen), to be a pirate. It will be a sort of punky pirate. Ah, the joys of wasting money on clothes. Hot Topic has an online store. . . .

Hee hee! I had a cut-less cutlass!

Ach!

Well, Alice, just to let you know, I got my first "you're too young" today. . .thankfully it's the only one I've gotten. Everyone else has written very happy congratulations. I think people mean well. But yeah, it's sucky when they make you feel like you shouldn't be doing what you're doing!

A not-so-secret dream

So who out there has seen "Insomniac" with Dave Attel (I think that's who hosts it)? I love that show. He just wanders around cities late at night looking for people to talk to. Simple concept, and I envy him so badly. I mean, he's living the World of Darkness Dream. . . wandering the dark streets of the city in search of adventure, playing with the dark denizens of the night. . . ok, now it's starting to sound hokey.

The thing is, I wish I could do that.

Saturday night was the big haunted Colton event. I was dressed all darkly and in my favorite Buffy-coat (It's leathery, red, and knee length--and I've seen The Slayer (yeah!) wear it during an episode. So yes, I'm a dork. But, anyway, all the lights were knocked out in Colton, the hallways blocked with caution tape, and I had to make my way to the abandoned elevator, as it was the only way to reach the third floor. I crept through the hallway, and then the corridor faded into pitchblack. So I had to grope around for the elevator button. The door ground open, and inside it was lit with a single, weak blacklight. So I stood in the elevator, in the dark, waiting for anything to happen. . . .

It's not often life lets you make-believe. But this was one of those times. I was ready, stake in hand, to take on anything. I had a mission to complete. It may sound silly, but it was breathtaking.

I made it back to the party alive, and helped out there for the rest of the night. When it was all over, I was left with this beautiful, spooky, warmish fall night. I wanted to walk around forever, exploring all the dark buildings, feeling the trees whisper behind my back. I wanted to leap on rooftops, wanted to fear things just enough to be scared, but not enough to run, you know?

That's why I envy that guy on Insomniac. He does what I only wish I could do. . . wander the streets without fear, meeting strange people, seeing bizzare things. It's part of the reason I love Buffy too, because she doesn't have to worry about much when she's on patrol. I wish I could live without so much fear. Or at least without worrying I'm gonna get mugged or raped or killed. Because I dream of cityscapes sometimes. When I play Jet Set Radio Future, sometimes that city looks more familiar than it should. It's hard to explain, but damnit . . . .

CHECK IT OUT

I have a webcam! for my gecko!

HERE

Criticizing Criticism

I'd like to keep this short, since I SHOULD be getting dressed to go to brunch. WHAT? REAL CLOTHES? BAH!

Sitting in the lounge thursday night, I got a little annoyed. There was a perfectly nice person singing on the Conan O'brian Show. In response to this, the denizens of the lounge began to list everything they hated about her. How much they hated her lips, her eyes, and especially her voice. They called her ugly, they said exclaimed things like she needed a facelift. . . . so yeah kids, everyone got the point. You think she sucks. WOW you're cool.

There's a brand of cool out there that depends on thinking everything sucks. You probably know what I mean. Some folks think they're too cool for everything. You know what I think? I think they suck. Our lives, no matter how lame they sometimes seem, are pretty damn great. The world is an amazing place. And you know what? You toss out your opinion like you think anyone gives a crap what you think.

Now, I'm not trying to attack folks who just generally don't like things. Hey, I like most things, so conversely there are probably folks who don't like most things. I'm just sick of people who equate criticizing everything with being intelligent. Sorry kids, but life's a tale told by an idiot. . .

It is. . . precious to me. ..sssssssss

I can now understand how important rings can be. Mine has slipped into my dreams, and everywhere I go I want to see how it sparkles--can you believe it sparkles differently in in different situations? Bah, enough of this.

Let's see, what's new? I'm looking at what should be a fun weekend, but will also likely involve alot of work work work. And then NEXT WEEK will be very much work-involved. Not to mention the impending GRE Subject test that I am supposed to have time to study for. . .HA!

Wednesday was a good day. First there was the random encounter with "The Pie Guy." I was just sitting around in the food court minding my own business when this guy came up out of nowhere and began surveying my opinion on a reasonable price for an delicious slice of amish-baked pie. When we'd settled on a price, he told me "Yeah, we're putting in a pie shop right next to The Grind. You should stop by and get some pie!"

WTF? Well, who knows if there actually will be a pie shop. That would be pretty great, although they'll never outsell caffeine. And if there won't be one, well, then was that guy hitting on me? I'd have to say, that would have been the most impressive, if also most confusing, act of hitting-on that I would have ever witnessed. I was trying not to laugh the entire time. YAY for random encounters!

Best part of the day had to be spending some quality time with Dave D. We're both too damn stressed, and even though all this big stuff is happening for us, we haven't had the time to just hang out together and be smoochy. So YAY!!!! Although I'm discovering some ineptitude at complimenting him. I want to just go on and on about how great he is, but all that comes out is "You're pretty!"
BAH again.

Well, today should be full of, er, stuff. Big AIBS haunted event on Saturday, so I have to tie up all those loose ends. Assignment in Stats due, as well as the mammoth problem set for Physics. I'm the O-chem tutor, and--joy--there's an O-chem exam tommorrow. Oh dear. ... .

It's in the air. . .

You know, sometimes it sucks to be a senior with seniory friends. We're all stressed. I remember, fondly, freshmen year, when I was the only one in the world who seemed stressed. It was great, because whenever I wanted to un-stress, all I needed to do was hang out with all my relaxed compatriots, and all was well.

But these days--especially after perusing several webjournals--I'm convinced we're all too damn stressed. I found myself on the razor edge of missing the turmoil of last year, because it forced me to think about anything BUT work. It slowed everything down, soooo much. Not that I really want all that crap back. It just makes me think how banal life can be.

Today was semi-good, in that I thought I had to present a paper tomorrow, and then found out I have to present a paper NEXT WEEK. A nice suprise, thank god. So I instantly mellowed out. But man I got back from dinner, and found this HUGE list of e-mails from the AIBS folks about getting this or that done. Tim Bryant didn't put my add in the Harbinger. Katie went ahead and sent out a big advertising mass-email. . . .and I have to admit it really bugged me.

See, I claimed advertising as my main responsibility for the Halloween stuff. I've been kicking my ass to get everything possible done in it. I've constructed waves of flyers all by myself. . . but all the sudden it's like someone thought "we need to send out a mass e-mail, but don't ask Amber about it. . ."

It just seems a bit condescending. Why let the person in charge of advertising know you're sending out a mass e-mail? I have discovered another weakness of mine: "The fear of appearing incompetent"

Lately, I've just been getting this vibe from some of the officers. Like they all have everything under control, Amber. Don't you worry your pretty little head. I feel like regardless of how much effort I put into it, I barely ever get so much as a thanks. One girl volunteered for several different timeslots of selling tickets and she gets a "You rock my world" from Vanessa. . . I just don't get it. And it pisses me off. I want to be taken seriously. But whenever I say that, all I get is a little chuckle, and maybe a pat on the head. Or just blank stares. Then folks will tell me what THEY want me to do. Assume I don't know what to do and tell me so everyone will assume THEY came up with it.

Oh, and the best part? If I say anything about it, I'm "getting all upset" or "making a fuss." I think everyone knows what impotent means. Well, sometimes that's how I feel. The world tells you if you work hard and do your part, people will take you seriously. And that's all there is to it! Don't believe it, not for one fake smiling minute.

I just don't get it, because it didn't always feel this way. AIBS has been totally fun. Just lately, things don't seem the same.

Let's take a moment. . .

Ok, so perhaps E! isn't a wealth of knowledge or culture, but I must say, I was inspired by their show "Guilty Pleasures." The concept of the show was basic: songs, and other things, that we love indulging in but aren't especially proud of. . . you know, like listening to ABBA's "Dancing Queen" (not one of my guilty pleasures).

I think it's a valuable thing, especially for me right now being so very worky and stressed, to take a moment and think about our guilty pleasures, because sometimes we forget exactly what it is that makes us happy.

--Jet Set Radio Future--I love this game. and all it is is rollerblading and spraying graffiti.
--Buffy The Vampire Slayer, and wearing a jacket just like the one Buffy has :)
--Dancing to my "Chicago" or "Fosse" CD despite my lack of broadway dance training.
--Imagining the slow evisceration of people I dislike or similarly devouring them like raw hamburger and calling it a day.
--imagining boys in sundresses (with frilly socks)
--SLEEPING (although I'm not very ashamed of it)
--Walking around pretending I'm royalty OR a secret agent.
--Being one girl in a sea of dorky boys. . .sigh :)
--An unnatural love of eating
--40 minutes in the shower. . .with water that's too hot.
--swearing
--sparkly anything. I love sparkly things. I collect dice and shiny rocks.
--shopping just to make myself happy, buying things because it makes me feel better
--Perhaps my greatest guilty pleasure is dirty comics. I can't help it. From dragons eating catgirls to raunchy soap operas to tentacle monsters in bars, they're just too damn interesting, even when they're bad. ESPECIALLY when they're bad.

ahh, that feels better. Try it! You'll like it! Or maybe you'll just be ashamed.

The Quest for The One Ring

You know, I had about five different ways I wanted to start this entry. Five at the very least. Big things tend to have alot of different sides you can approach them from, and baby, this is a BIG BIG THING. So here I go, in the most direct route possible (faint of heart may want to sit down first (although if you surf the net standing up. .. well. . .um. . . ):

Dave D. and I went and got ourselves engaged.

Some people (VERY FEW people), already know this. Some people probably aren't suprised at all. Some people may be happy, some people may be shocked. Hell, some people may even be sad . . . .But well, all of that matters like, as much as the speed of sound matters in my crazy physics problem about the Mines of Moria (very very little in the grand scheme of things). But when you see me staring away at some thing on my hand, don't worry, it's not a deadly insect. . . . it's my sparkly, sparkly ring. I know I've been shy and not said anything to the handful of you who I've seen today, but that's just because I AM shy occasionally, and I've been so busy this week, I wanted to be relaxed and well-rested so that I could actually revel in this.

Basically, it's something we've talked about for quite awhile. Here's where I get to start opening a couple doors that I kept closed during my journaling!

So technically, I got proposed to a looong waays back. a couple months anyway. The minute the idea came forward, despite all the craziness that came before it, my brain yelped "YEAH!" See, there's bound to be some critics out there who would say "Amber, what the heck are you doing? Don't you remember the spring of hell?" to which I would say, Yeah, I remember it. And I remember what it felt like. But when Dave asked me about getting engaged, I wasn't thinking "Oh god, what do I say?" or "Eh, sure, why not?" It was a big leap of joy in my heart. And that's when I knew it would be a good thing, that my most unadulterated thoughts were good ones.

I left a big TO BE CONTINUED thing after my tarot card reading entry. Why? Because I told the card lady my boyfriend was shopping for a ring. She had laid out a cups card, and said that it represented karmic connections, folks you just meet and instantly find it easy to be around. You know, the crazy stuff like running into other souls from your past lives and saying "HEY I KNOW YOU!"

So anyway, I brought up the pending engagement, and she said "Ok, just draw another card" and so I did. It was the two of cups, and when she saw it she immediately said "Go for it! This is the best card you could possibly draw"

Turns out the two of cups is the engagement card. Hahaha, very funny deities of the world!

So, After a great weekend at Oglebayfest, just as mom and dad were getting back into the van to drive home, Dave stopped them, and asked for their permission to get engaged. This past weekend, Dave and I went ring shopping, what follows is a grand and lengthy account of what REALLY Happened that weekend. So if you feel like reading, go for it. If not. . . .oh well!


The Quest for the One Ring
See, originally, when Dave actually proposed to me over the far spaces of the pacific ocean, I had said what I really wanted was a ring with our birthstones in it. Diamonds just never really fascinated me. They seemed big and colorless and rather cold altogether. I quickly fell in love with the idea of being different and having real symbolism in a ring. I mean, as far as I could tell, getting a diamond was basically to say “hey baby, I’ve got heaps of cash” to everyone. And frankly in the modern era this girl isn’t so impressed by that.

Dave, Dave’s Dad, and I walked to a local jewelry store in Erie to check out some options, and I quickly discovered that just getting a ring with two different stones in it was rather difficult. And to get a nice one was even more difficult. I saw one setting I liked, but I couldn’t see the finished product until the ring was purchased. This bugged me.

It bugged me so much so that Dave called a walk. We roamed about his old neighborhood, while I tried to explain my apprehensions about buying the first ring I liked. For one thing, it wasn’t an expensive ring. . . and this bugged me, I’m ashamed to say. Out of nowhere I was confronting this weird issue of wanting something that cost a good sum of money. I wanted to cost more than an X-Box, I wanted to be WORTH more than one. Which is silly, because all this time I’ve been harping about being sooo modern and not wanting a statement of wealth in carat form.

See, the time had come for me to confront the very first of several girlhood expectations of marriage. Most girls, I think, imagine these scenarios from time to time: getting proposed to, having a ring. . . I had this weird dream in my head I’d be living like some Ally McBeal in some cosmopolitan city. I’d be at a fancy restaurant, and I’d be totally surprised.

And so far, things were going nothing like this.

But you know what? That’s a boring fantasy. That’s a Hollywood/NBC constructed set of “how you get proposed to.” I’ve been a little nervous about all of this, because I have nothing to base it on. Nobody seems to just agree to get engaged mutually. Not many of my few engaged friends went shopping for rings together. Basically, I’m . . . WE are flying blind. And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. It would never be fair to expect Dave to just pick a ring and have me like it (Even though repeatedly we picked out the same thing).

I discovered the real problem was that Dave and I have opposing philosophies on shopping. He likes to go somewhere, pick something out, and badabing-badaboom: shopping is done. I’m a shopping addict, so I like to extend the shopping process. I tried to use the prom-dress analogy: Even if the first prom dress I tried on was the most perfect, beautiful dress in the world, I’d go try on more dresses first. I wouldn’t feel silly coming back to it later. I’d feel BETTER about it.

So, we came to a resolution: Dave’s mom and I would go shopping on Saturday at the mall, and see what we could find.

Friday was a nice, quiet day, and Friday night we went to Smuggler’s Cove—a local seafood resteraunt—where I gorged myself on all the shrimp I could eat. Coconut shrimp, crab-stuffed shrimp. . mmmmmmmm. We all walked about the bayfront, enjoying the very pretty but slightly ominous darkness of Lake Erie.

So Saturday rolled around. Dave’s mom gave us a card for a free sitting at Sears Photo Center. We were told that we didn’t “have to” get pictures taken, but that she would be so happy if we did. Since neither of us cared much either way, we made an appointment for 2:45PM. Then Mrs. Dembinski and I were off to look for rings. We went to Zales first, where we heard mostly the same information about the difficulty of getting a nice setting with two birthstones just the way I wanted. I peeked at the diamonds beside two young fellows probably shopping for engagement rings as well. There were some very thin, delicate bands that caught my eye. Whoah, diamonds are sparkly! I pointed out a few in particular to Dave’s mom, and then we headed off to J.B. Robinsons, where we received a tremendous amount of help from a sales rep—who had what looked like a 7-carat diamond ring on her hand. Did she buy it for herself? Anyway, she was very helpful.
The next store or two involved fending off pushy salespeople who just wanted us to buy something, anything. I tried to explain what I wanted, but they reacted like I was some sort of picky nut. Hell, maybe I am. But dammit, this is important stuff. Anyway it was time to meet up with the boys again. . .
. . . . Dave and I arrived at Sears Portrait Studio just in time to pick the most neutral backgrounds possible, and wait around while hoards of small children in various stages of dressed-up were ushered in an out. We got to be the “big kids.” When it was finally our turn, I think the photographer lady let out a sigh of relief. I can only imagine what it’s like to try to pose and photograph small children all day. We behaved though! The camera made funny zooming sounds, and I had this uncontrollable urge to exclaim “Oh we’re so beautiful!” after seeing ever take. Frankly, I thought I look scary—being pale means looking rather unhealthy in all photographs. Plus when I smile my eyes get all squinty and I just don’t find it flattering. Thankfully, there was one beautiful picture, which I have titled “The choking picture” (where I have my arm around Dave’s neck). It is the best picture ever.
Where there any rings you liked? Dave asked. Actually. . .there was. That little ring in Zales had kept popping into my head. It was so simple, but so sparkly! So, we made our way back to Zales. I located the ring immediately, and got to try it on. . . .
I looked at Dave, and looked at the ring, and looked at Dave again.

“So do you want to sign up for an account?” the salesperson asked Dave. I looked at him, and looked at the ring again. Dave asked me if I wanted this one. And I yelped
“YES!”

As Dave filled out all the paperwork, I hopped and giggled and smiled and basically acted all goofy. Sam and Mrs. Dembinski retreated to the kiddy rides outside the store. I looked all around the store and outside, and thought about how many times I’d seen folks picking out rings. I wondered if people knew it was happening right here, in this moment. A great moment, in the history of Amber.
You know, some people might think this ring is small. It’s not like heaps of carats or anything. I would not care if it was less than even one. It’s just perfect. Sparkly, but not flashy. The middle diamond is all cozy and snuggled up to two smaller ones. A delicate little band. It’s a bit scary at times. I’m glad it needed sized and so I didn’t have to take it home that minute. But I can hardly wait for it now. I’ve got a picture of it as background on my computer. Baby, I’m ready, for anything.

We wandered around the Millcreek Mall some more. I bought a hotdog with kraut in the food court. and a mocharetto at Gloria Jean’s. Sam bought his own ring made of hematite in the Bazaar Court. We went home, dropped off Sam, and then went to a mum farm in northeast Pennsylvania. There you can pick as many mums as you can hold for 3 bucks. I paraded around with my beautiful bouquet, feeling beautiful and happy happy happy. Came home and smelled delicious turkey roasting in the oven. Dave’s mom made a full turkey dinner with stuffing and mashed potatotes and cranberry sauce. Oooh-ho baby. Later, after the turkey wore off, Dave ran a Vampire: The Masquerade game and Sam and I played recently-sired vampires vacationing in Niagra falls who almost sucked James and Kelly dry. Yeah, we’re geeks :)
Sunday arrived too soon, and before I knew it, we were off to Hiram again. Another week, another heap of physics work. . .oh, and those darn GRE’s on Saturday!

BUSY BUSY BEE

ARgh! too much stuff to do aye! Let's see there's. .
1) the million things I have to do for AIBS publicity
2) publicity for WHRM
3)Physics
4)GRE on saturday
5)Recommendation forms for Grad school
6)Paper presentation on Tuesday.

and Thursday, friends and neighbors, is shaping up to be a very very big day. We'll see. Unfortunately, I've been feeling under the weather lately. Mainly because of STRESS, gah! But also I think there's a slight bit of a bug going around, and to top it off the weather was dark and broodingly yucky on wednesday. But I DID get alot done. For instance, I single handedly have secured the president of Hiram college to judge our dessert contest, designed flyers, reserved table tents, e-mailed a million people for AIBS. So I should be very proud of that. I am.

I'm just wishing it was already Saturday evening, when I could curl up with the one I love and just RELAX.

Then work my ass of Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. . . . then the big halloween bash on Saturday. . . Oh I could go on. When do I get a break? On the plus side, I have become MUCH better at being productive and efficient, instead of just knowing what those words mean. It seems to involve closing your eyes, and just doing everyingthing until its done. My biggest obstacle is my brain whining that it's bored, or overworked. I sat around in physics drawing mermaids instead of paying attention. My brain rebels once again.

lastly, I just wanted to say that the show "The Ship" on the history channel ROCKS. I wish I could hop on a replica of Captain Cook's ship "The Endeavor" and sail to New Zealand. Damn. . .

Jet Set Radio Future Invades My Dreams, and other true stories

Someone is whistling the theme to the Andy Griffith Show in the hallway. . . .interesting.

I had a very vivid and strange dream. I dreamt I was in an oceanside resort, and it had many levels and rooms, and I was trying to get back up to the chapel (the uppermost room) of the place so that I could watch the fireworks. It's funny, have you ever had a dream where you felt you'd been there before? I totally felt I had made it to the chapel before, and carried on a whole converstation with folks there. Strange.

Anyway, there were lots of people in the resort; people from Hiram, people from home, people from highschool. I dreamt that Adam B. went nuts, yelling about someone named "Niv" who meant so much to him. He ran out the door and was standing by the roadside, and he started screaming at a cop car because its sirens were too loud. So, thinking Adam was on drugs, a police chase ensued, and there was a cop waiting for him when he woke up sprawled in the excersize equipment of the resort. Weird eh?

I also dreamt I walked into one of my friends from highschool's brain. In it, were these beautiful women in flowing dress, hovering above the ground. They were glowing, and they flitted about. I saw their faces, and I recognized one, and then I REALLY recognized the final one, because it was me!

What does all this mean. Verily, it means nothing. I always envy Sam for the coherence and closure of his dreams. Mine are always a whole lot of different scenes that just happen in the same night. And last night they all happened at this seaside resort.

In more mundane news, I am working too hard :)

Which Personality Disorder Do You Have?
brought to you by Quizilla

Hmm, I took this thing twice and changed my answers and STILL got this. Oh well, if loving me's a crime, baby, I don't wanna be right!

Amber, visiting queen of the lounge

Ach, it's monday again, not for very much longer though! I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning finishing a physics lab last night. You know, I'm beginning to wonder just how many hours a week I spend just on physics. . .

Mostly a hazy monday. I got to spend some wonderful time in the lounge however. I was greeted with: "Amber! If you could fight anyone on third Henry, who would it be?"

I chose not to answer that question. That's a dangerous thing, because once a girl knows you don't like them, well, it's annoying to be on anyone's shit list. And frankly, for the most part, I like the girls on 3rd this year. I have no qualms with them. So I settled down in the lounge, only to begin compulsively organizing everything in sight and throwing away tons of stuff too. I am a lounge mommy, and I've gotta say it was getting a little crazy with the stacks of videos and the multiple game consoles. But I've seen worse :)

My dear roommate Kat, why are you taunting the boys so much?

I have to tell this epic tale, because surely it will go down in lounge legend. . .. er, or maybe not. Basically, Kat was stealing cards from Tish and sticking them down her shirt. She was challenging the anyone to take them back. I told her I would.
"No you wouldn't!"
"Yes, I would."
"No. You wouldn't."
"YES, I would."

So then of course she called me on it. So, there, in the lounge, amidst the bustling game of RISK and the many TV loungers, I pulled the collar of Kat's shirt, grabbed the cards, smiled, and handed them to Tish. That's the story, and I'm sticking to it.

So now Kat probably thinks I'm a psycho lesbian I bet! Nah, I love the men just a bit too much ;)

An Erie Fall Weekend

Ladies and Gentleman, arriving back in Hiram today: Amber! Dave! Sam!

Man, this fall weekend went by entirely too fast. I guess that’s what happens when you’re having a good time, and living a lot.

Thursday was a day of total relaxing and procrastination. . . enough said.

Friday was a nice, quiet day, and Friday night we went to Smuggler’s Wharf—a local seafood resteraunt—where I gorged myself on all the shrimp I could eat. Coconut shrimp, crab-stuffed shrimp. . mmmmmmmm. We all walked about the bayfront, enjoying the very pretty but slightly ominous darkness of Lake Erie.

So Saturday rolled around. Dave’s mom gave us a card for a free sitting at Sears Photo Center. We were told that we didn’t “have to” get pictures taken, but that she would be so happy if we did. Since neither of us cared much either way, we made an appointment for 2:45PM. . . . . Dave and I arrived at Sears Portrait Studio just in time to pick the most neutral backgrounds possible, and wait around while hoards of small children in various stages of dressed-up were ushered in an out. We got to be the “big kids.” When it was finally our turn, I think the photographer lady let out a sigh of relief. I can only imagine what it’s like to try to pose and photograph small children all day. We behaved though! The camera made funny zooming sounds, and I had this uncontrollable urge to exclaim “Oh we’re so beautiful!” after seeing ever take. Frankly, I thought I look scary—being pale means looking rather unhealthy in all photographs. Plus when I smile my eyes get all squinty and I just don’t find it flattering. Thankfully, there was one beautiful picture, which I have titled “The choking picture” (where I have my arm around Dave’s neck). It is the best picture ever.

We wandered around the Millcreek Mall some more. I bought a hotdog with kraut in the food court. and a mocharetto at Gloria Jean’s. Sam bought his own ring made of hematite in the Bazaar Court. We went home, dropped off Sam, and then went to a mum farm in northeast Pennsylvania. There you can pick as many mums as you can hold for 3 bucks. I paraded around with my beautiful bouquet, feeling beautiful and happy happy happy. Came home and smelled delicious turkey roasting in the oven. Dave’s mom made a full turkey dinner with stuffing and mashed potatotes and cranberry sauce. Oooh-ho baby. Later, after the turkey wore off, Dave ran a Vampire: The Masquerade game and Sam and I played recently-sired vampires vacationing in Niagra falls who almost sucked James and Kelly dry. Yeah, we’re geeks :)
Sunday arrived too soon, and before I knew it, we were off to Hiram again. Another week, another heap of physics work. . .oh, and those darn GRE’s on Saturday!

A day's worth of thoughts categorized

. What the fuck are you waiting for? Get out there and eat pie!!! Wait, before you go out and start blindly scarfing pie, you should know that it is only true pies that count towards your well-being. That is, pot-pies and cowpies and pie charts do not help you. You must eat true dessert-type pies. --Dave K, on the pie-theory of true happiness in life.

I thought that would be a good way to start off. Let's go with the most convenient and mundane events of the day.

First off, I slept in obscenely late. I'll probably do it again. It appears the only thing stopping me from sleeping in, in the past, was a class to go to. Yet again, my brain can defeat me whenever it wants. I will drop here some interpretation of a Sensei quote: "He who conquers himself is a great warrior." By which terms, I really am not even close to being a warrior. I spoil my brain rotten.

Statistics test was fucking lame. Every time I take a test for that class, I go in understanding all the material, and then the professor puts heaps of never-seen-before-not-even-in-the-book material. It's freaking annoying. But that's ok. I went to physics after statistics and kicked the ass of calculus. Finally, something locked in my brain and I was answering questions right and left. .. I even got a "That's perfect" from the professor. Wow, I'm actually liking physics!

I have a million people I need to e-mail. . .when is that going to happen?

Lounge conditions remained fairly good throughout the day, since Aliens 3 was on and I am a total Aliens fan. I take pride in being a nerd with especially unusual tastes. Anybody can be a trekkie. Anybody can be obsessed with Star Wars. But how many of you know what the class of the ship Nostromo was in Alien? Hmmm? That's me, total geek (It's an M-class star freighter, btw). But this evening reportedly the lounge reached unspeakably geeky proportions as people gathered around to watch James play "Kingdom Hearts" ( that disney game by squaresoft). Even I have limits. . .

On the more sweeping, philisophical level of things. . . another girl randomly told me I was cool. I'm beginning to get suspicious, but I'm also rather happy. Being cool is. .. . welll . . . coool. But I've also have started trying to really look at myself without my lovegoggles, trying to come to terms with some of the less desirable aspects of me (because I used to blindly say that I had none, to myself). This isn't the same as beating yourself up. It's just looking at yourself and going, ok, that's something I'm not that good about. Like written correspondence. . . I suck at that.

I'm looking forward to running away with Dave and Sam to Eerie. I've got tons of work to do, but it should be a nice quiet place to do it. And oh, the good food, and the good company, and all the goody goodness that is Dave's house! Woo!

So. . .it's October now?

Bewildered, Bewildered...
You have no complaint
You are what your are and you ain't what you ain't
So listen up Buster, and listen up good
Stop wishing for bad luck and knocking on wood
--"Dear Abbey" by John Prine

Whew! quite a weekend. quite a weekend.

I should be going to sleep, and I'm going to try to in a minute or so :) Just wanted to type in some bits of the last couple of days.

So as you know, Dave and I travelled home with my mom to the glorious hometown of Amber Pollack: Wheeling, WV. Geesh, this is going to take awhile unless I pare it down a bit, so watch this!

My brother is doing well at WVU, although they don't baby them there like they do here, so when he was late for class and missed a pop quiz. . .he had to bite the bullet and take a zero for it. ouch. Well, he's got a rec center with a 20-person hottub, so he's doing alright. We stayed up friday night playing Golden Axe 2 on the computer. My sister was off being social at the Sadie Hawkins Dance. Dave, mom, and I went up to Oglebay to watch my dad's bluegrass band, "The Cabin Fever String Band" play live music for a squaredance. It's a whole different culture, ladies and gentlemen, and I forget how much I miss it. I introduced Dave to some of mom's friends as, "This is Dave, everybody"

So what did he get called all weekend? "Dave Everybody"

On Saturday, Dave, Don (my younger brother), Liz (my younger sister), and I wandered about Oglebayfest. We saw the baby tigers tackle eachother and look exceedingly cute, although they are the size of large dogs now. I enjoyed seeing everyone coo over cute little maneaters. We went to the Ohio County Fair and saw the alpacas shaved like poodles, and made the looooong hike up to the top of the hill to sample all the salsas and wines at the food tents (Liz and Don didn't get to sample the wine, much to underage Don's dissapointment). THEN we checked out the crafts, and retreated to the garden center for hot soup and sandwhiches . . . ahhhhh. Of course, then we had to share a funnel cake. had to. funnel cakes are too fantastically fried and unhealthy to pass up. It was nice being able to hang out with my siblings AND Dave. Those two have grown up so much, sometimes it's scary. But mostly it's nice, because now we can all be friends and, for the most part, stop beating eachother up.

We made one last pass at the food tents to buy mead (YES MEAD), salsa, popcorn, applebutter, and cider before heading back to mom and dad's cabin party central for dinner. There Dave got to meet all mom and dad's friends, and after being quizzed by the male contigent on his ethnic background and his mother's maiden name, they left him reasonably unharassed. Mr. Krellis slow-cooked a spaghetti sauce ALL day, and it was very very very delicious. After dinner, and some rum cake that almost knocked me out with fumes alone, mom's friends were starting to get rowdy, and since it was homecoming for the local highschool, all the ladies were taking turns oohing and aaaahing over the daughters all dressed up and hairsprayed. It was just getting crazy, so Dave and I retreated to the lake to watch a fountain show, and soon realized we had a Don tagging along with us (he hates crowds).

(WARNING, CUTE ALERT, GAG WORTHY)You know, I've seen about a million fountain shows at Oglebay Park, and for a long time I wished somebody would take me on a date there. I mean, sure, it's fun to watch water get sprayed in creative fashions to the Oldies, but I always wanted to cuddle up with someone and feel all romantic. And Saturday night I finally got the chance. We stayed for the fireworks show that happened afterwards, and just stared up at the sky. It was just. . . so nice, even if my brother was acting as chaperone.

Twas' then that we had to rendevouz with everyone at the Rathskeller Shelter (how's that for a german name?) to listen to "Smoke Daddy and the Crawfish" play some tunes. It's an experience unique to Oglebayfest: two tents and a park shelter's worth of white folks from age nine to over fifty crammed together and acting sociable, and in the more legal portion of the crowd, varying stages of drunk. I'd see folks my parent's age dancing on the picnic tables. Let's just say there's not alot to do in Wheeling, so when this rolls around, it's THE place to be. For the first time, I drank a pitcher of beer in front of my parents. Now, I didn't drink it all by myself, but it WAS totally weird at first. I mean, here I am, drinking beer, in front of my parents. . . . a new experience for me. I must be getting older, eh? Dave drank most of it for me--he's such a nice guy!--and he finally got to try the dreaded Uzo ( a licorice-flavored liquor that mom and dad's friends bring out for special occasions. . . I doubt I spelled it right). They were hiding the hard stuff in a shopping bag. That's the kind of party it was. We stayed for awhile, but it was getting loud and crowded beyond our even dulled-by-drink apprehensions. Back to the cabin, and eventually back home.

Sunday was a quiet day, because mom and dad didn't come home to drive us to hiram until 5PM. Got here late, and gave them something to think about before they made the long trek home.

So what do you say life? For now the worst is over? Can we just relax with the good memories of the weekend, and all that promise it holds? I'll buy you candy if you say ok :)

I have the best boyfriend ever.

It's hot, and it's October


Just a short note: I'm going home to Oktoberfest at Oglebay Park for the weekend, and I'm taking the Dave D. with me. So if you were perhaps looking for me this weekend, you'd need to hop in a car and drive 2.5 hours south. Kat should be around if you absolutely positively need to leave me a message. And I'll be back probably Sunday evening. So wish me luck at my park of memories.

Anal retentive bastards should have their lips sewn shut

Or maybe just be forced to wear a french maid costume and made to lick the lounge clean. Wow, ok, So perhaps you can tell that I'm rather disgusted/upset with this guy. What am I talking about? you may ask, especially if you not living in my dorm.

Well, our dorm has a rather vibrant lounge life. Our downstairs lounge has developed a culture all its own, and occasionally it gets cluttered beyond cluttered. Every single freaking year, someone complains about the lounge. It's a given. But this year, it's been in immaculate condition. No rugs splattered with plaster, no heaps of decomposing food. Hell, the tables even have space to place things on. But this year, the memo's on our R.A.'s board appeared:

"Brian: The lounge is disgusting, do something about it"

And other such statements which had me pretty damn pissed. No one ever signed their name to these comments, and generally made the assumption that RA's are housekeepers. And then the flyer appeared on our bulletin board, stating that if personal items in the lounge weren't removed by Wednesday night, the entire dorm would be charged. "Please respect our dorm" it cordially finished.

Ok, ok, so the lounge does get messy from time to time. But none of us could figure it out. I mean, the lounge was CLEAN. There was one or two backpacks, some magazines, some books, and a pair of shoes. Between the condescending, nagging notes on the message board and this new strict and undefined standard of "clean" was seriously pissing of many a lounger. And then the meeting was announced. Finally, a chance to defend our minority culture!

I think it's important here to mention that the meeting was broken up spatially. On the couches in the "lounge" designated portion of the first floor were all the defenders of said lounge. Next to them were the two RA's and Angela, the area coordinator. Finally, nearest the stairs and the doors was a group of folks who I've rarely ever seen--and NEVER seeen in the lounge. Guess who was there to comoplain about the state of the lounge? I digress slightly. . .

The meeting started out with my worst fears being comforted: apparently lots of people within the dorm itself were complaining about its state. I had been geniunely concerned, up until this point, that all this was due to one or two noisy underclassmen who had no prior knowledge of the Lounge and its past appearances and traditions. Things were good, and I tried to let the RA's know that it was so much better to talk this out in person than to receive flyer mandates.

At first, the discussion relayed between Tom and the Res Life folks. And then this guy--who I had honestly never seen before--came forward and voiced his opinions on the lounge, and how it should be used. His beef? He felt that the place was a mess, that it was too cluttered. He seemed especially offended by the "drop off" table which has been placed near the door. "What if I want to put my stuff there? I can't because it's covered with stuff!" Tom tried to explain to him that he was welcome to move someone's stuff, or put it one of the many other tables in the lounge. . . . But the guy would have none of this. His main arguement rested on that clutter prevented people from using various parts of the lounge. Now, I would agree with that, to a certain extent. But something really was amiss with his arguments. . . like when the hell have I ever seen him in the lounge? Will he actually ever want to put anything in there?

Oh well, that aside, we had reached an agreement: the lounge would be treated like the upstairs lounges. Food and trash needed to be cleared immediately, but personal items such as bookbags and books could stay for less than 24 hours. Everyone seemed to think this fair, except mister anal retentive bozo. "You shouldn't leave anything in the lounge! If you leave, take it with you!" he proclaimed. His voice kept getting louder and louder. I'm proud to say those who were pro-lounge remained calm, at least until he left, after we all agreed on the original resolution anyway.

See, what I had feared actually was true. As far as I could tell, the only ones expressing discontent were OCD Fuckhead and his small compatriot. Perhaps some of the other guys of 2nd, who stood with them but said not a damn thing, shared his opinion. But it was a damn creepy opinion. I'm serious--believe me, I grew up in a house with a compulsive cleaner--the lounge is CLEAN. This guy is complaining about some books, office supplies, and a pair of boots. He wasn't at all reasonable. And what bugs me the most is that it seems those who actually use the lounge aren't complaining about it. Only those who are rather outside the lounge culture.

Ok, so admittedly there is a group of people who probably feel unwelcome in the lounge--before this incident--and so perhaps we are slightly to blame that they don't use the lounge. But dammit, the lounge is the most accepting culture I've EVER witnessed. All you have to do is come down and sit there, and eventually you get talked to. What I find sad, is that all of this just seems like an excuse to assault our way of life, to finally vent that apparently vehement disdain these guys have for a bunch of kids hanging out lazily in the lounge. I mean, it's the vibe I've always gotten.
"[so and so] is always in the lounge! don't they realize they have a room!?"
I hesitate to make this into an "us vs them" situation. . . . but honestly that's what I think it is. Because the lounge, I'll assert again, isn't messy this year. Perhaps they just see us as a big bunch of messy geeks. Maybe they just don't get it. And the lounge, and its clutter, are the greatest manifestation of our group, so I guess its the most obvious target of their disdain. Heck, you can't complain to an RA that the kids in the lounge are too weird for you, but you sure as hell can complain they're too messy for your immaculate tastes. Must be SO rough to walk past that lounge every day and see clutter for five seconds. I know it would just kill me. The main thing I've gotta say is they probably aren't doing it consciously. The state of the lounge probably does legitimately bother them. But it's just plain ridiculous. They are being intolerant. We loungers may be loud, messy, and self-righteous, but we tolerate just about everything. Except this laughable crap.

So, mister clean, I hope you enjoy living in the smallest dorm on a small campus ;)

Three hours just ain't enough

Because it was so traumatic, I'll keep this portion short: my group had to present a journal article for our topics in micro class. We divided up the paper. I read that bitch for hours. I was up till 3AM last night working on my part of the presentation, and awake again at 6AM to work some more on it. Our presentation was at 12PM. Generally, presentations last till 12:40PM. At 1PM, we were hadn't even reached the conclusion (my part of the article yet). So my part comes, I rush it, and ignore the outline I spent hours organizing. I babble, I don't treat things as thoroughly as I should. And I'm lucky if my portion of the talk lasted ten minutes. Nothing so unrewarding as working your ass off and then having nothing to show for it.

But at least I have the wisdom these days (what little of it) to say, "Hey, Amber, it's not important." Which is utterly true. One stupid paper presentation for a one-hour credit course is not even close to important. What's important?

Well, my APEX presentation, for one thing. For those of you who don't know, the APEX presentation is the senior seminar of the biology department, where I present the work I did over the summer. I was freaking out about it for many days recently. I realized that, shit, I have less than a month to work on it, two weekends of which I'll be out of town. Shit. Hell no. I think I can accredit my bad mood to this in part. I was walking with Dave one night, and suddenly the thought occurred to me: I COULD DO MY APEX IN THE SPRING. I thought it would be impossible to change my APEX date, but lo and behold in one day I had completely removed one gigantic responsibility from my schedule. So now I can just worry aboutGRE's, Grad School, and Physics. That's quite enough thank you.

Ok, now for the short, random, leftover thoughts:
1) EVERYONE IS ILL
Is is just me, or is everyone on campus sick, dying, or on a slow recovery?
2)ALICE ROCKS THE HOUSE
3)I'm taking Dave home for Oktoberfest at Oglebay Park this weekend. I'm excited, because I'll get to show him off and take him all over Oglebay to see all my favorite spots. Geesh, this sounds very selfish, but then again I'm going to Eerie with him the weekend after that! SO THERE
4) JET SET RADIO FUTURE IS THE BEST GAME I"M CURRENTLY OBSESSED WITH. My character moves so fast she blurs. YES
5) Jiu Jitsu is getting better
6)Skeletor (my gecko) is staring at me, and it's freaking me out

PEACE! LOVE! and SLEEEEP!