Running -- Eighty First Post

Dear reader(s), I have a confession. It's terrible, and it makes me a bad interneter. Sharing this will, in fact, have the potential to move this blog from its solid "random tidbits about my life that have little interest for anyone else (except that craigslist thing)" position to something more like a "fitness blog".
I know. Terrible. However, this blog also solidly reflects where I am in my life, and where I've been, and where I would never like to be again (in the case of a whole lot of my earlier posts). So here goes.

I've taken up working out to stave off the boredom of an exceptionally boring summer. Since I didn't have a job for most of the summer, I was pretty much stuck at home filling out job applications. All. Day. Long.
I turned to the internet, since I could take internet breaks from filling out applications and switch back in a heartbeat. Or not. Whatever. In the midst my pintresting, facebooking, and tumblring, I came across several workout blogs. I pinned a few workouts, did fewer, and then started reading the blogs.
This was a mistake. I was no longer content to just sit on the couch and watch Doctor Who all day. Instead, I picked up Buffy the Vampire Slayer because there was a "workout game" on my current favorite tumblr, Back On Pointe. Also, I ran out of seasons of the revamped Doctor Who and I'm stuck in the middle of the second Doctor because of missing episodes. Life in the first world is rough, let me tell you.
Anyway, I joined Fitocracy, which not only tracks your workouts for you (including compiling you a history for each exercise that you've done since joining) and has a thriving community of "fitocrats", but also has a points system that lets you level up, complete with challenges that give you extra points and allows you to "prop" other people's accomplishments and workouts. You can join groups made up of potentially like-minded people whose accomplishments and comments encourage you to work out more. It also has a cute little robot image that calculates your workouts; to close the dialogue box, you have to click the "I'm Awesome" button. Working out is both a game that can be won and a self-esteem booster.
Anyway, one thing led to another and I got into running. And it's not my fault. I tried at the beginning of the summer, and then I got shin splints from wearing heels when I went to The Dark Knight Rises as Catwoman. Admittedly, I was a slightly pudgier catwoman than Anne Hathaway, but still. Shin splints? Running was clearly not a good idea. Besides, I couldn't even run down my very short street without gasping and wheezing for breath. So I gave up on running "for the time being", figuring that I would try again when I was in better shape, with stronger legs, a stronger heart and lungs, and less flab to lug around.
I'm not an unhealthy weight: according to both my doctor and the internet, I have a perfectly healthy BMI. What the internet chart told me that my doctor didn't is that I'm right at the upper limit of healthy. I've been about the same weight, give or take 10 lbs, since ninth grade, and I haven't grown more than half an inch since eighth grade. The thing is that I'm not happy with the way my body looks. Don't get me wrong, it's a great body. It's taken me through a lot without too much griping, and it's put up with a lot of crappy food and piercings over the years. It's just that it could look better if I gave half a fuck.
Besides, I'll never be a Doctor Who companion if I can't even run down the block. Have you seen how much running they do?
So the summer went on, and I kept reading about workouts and working out. Eventually, I found my way to the "Couch-to-5K" (or C25K) site and realized that I could do that. It eases you into running and stresses the importance of not doing too much too soon. Running is hard on your body. It's very good for your body, but that's partly because it's so stinking rough on it. The thing with the body is that to make it stronger, you have to break it down. Muscles get big when you do strength training because the exercise breaks down your muscles just a tiny bit. The body repairs them when you rest, and they grow back bigger and stronger. Running builds up your bones because it's a high-impact activity, meaning that your bones jar against each other and break down a little. As long as you're not running all day, every day, your body will build those bones back up stronger. The problem is that people start too fast, run every day, or just run too much the first day, and hurt themselves. Most of my friends that run regularly enjoy it a lot, so why is it that I hate it so much?
According to the internet, it's because I get myself hurt. I start too fast and expect too much of my body. If I were to ease in, only run a few days a week and for shorter distances at a time, then I'd have a better shot at actually enjoying it. My little brother is on a cross country team, and he loves it. Clearly, running is hiding somewhere in my genes. Now it's my job to convince my body that this running thing is okay. So far, C25K is the best way I've found. Just reading about running, especially trailrunning and minimalist/barefoot running, will make me want to bolt out the door for a lap around the city, but I have to stop at the end of the street. I need self control, will power, and a strict plan to follow. You can buy a C25K plan for your smartphone, which would be nice if I had one, or just keep track of where you are on your own for free, which is what I do. I log my distances and approximate times to fitocracy and run on monday, wednesday, and friday, which should work well for school. I have easy tuesdays and thursdays, so I guess I could run tuesday, thursday, and saturday, but I'm not good at working out on weekends when everyone's around all the time.
N.B.: The people at C25K did not pay me to say all this.

So here's my tip to you: find a workout plan that you can stick with. Make it up yourself or find it on the internet, or both, but stick to it. Work out every day or every other day or even just once a week, but stick with it. Don't let a change in your life like moving or going back to school throw you off. And don't even worry about running if that was your least favorite part of those long-ago PE classes. There are lots of ways, impact or non-impact, indoor and outdoor, to get your cardio done.

I've been tracking my progress since july, and, quite frankly, nothing much has changed. I lose an inch here and there, then gain it back the next week. Granted, I'm more motivated now, but those love handles ain't goin' nowhere. I still can't do a real pushup, although for that I mostly blame my screwy shoulders, since I'm pretty good at tricep dips, knee pushups, incline pushups, and wall pushups, all of which put my arms at different angles but still use the same main muscle groups as real pushups.
That won't stop me from keeping on working out, though. I like working out. I like the way I feel after I've worked out, and I like logging my progress on fitocracy. I like being a part of the internet communities that work out, and I like the smell of my own hard-earned sweat. I like having an excuse to buy yoga pants and a new sports bra. I like giving a fuck about the way my body looks.
Also, I don't mean that I like the smell of not showering for three days, just that I like proof that I worked hard enough to break a sweat.

We're Making Sourdough! (Day 1) -- Seventy Second Post

I'm just going to pretend like this is the 72nd post even though it's somewhere in the sixties.
Anyway, I'm all moved and unemployed and stuff. Goddammit.
This leaves me with a lot of time to watch TV. I've watched all the seasons of the new Doctor Who (bow ties are cool and Matt Smith took the reins very handily, although David Tennant was definitely awesome) and Sherlock, the BBC modern-day show (really, really well done adaptation of the stories). Having run out of TV shows, it gave me a lot more time to think about how stupid it is that I can't find a job and even more time to grumble to myself about how I WOULD have something to do if someone would frigging HIRE ME.

ANYWAY.

With all this free time, I've decided that I can make sourdough starter, no problem. It's not like I have anything else to do, and if I can't remember to have a look at it every 12 hours, then I'm stupid and deserve for it to die. I'm following the instructions from Sourdough Home because it seemed fairly comprehensive.
Since I have a balance, I can do it by weight. Yay for being slightly non-american, I guess!

Day 1: Mixed about 50 g each of unbleached safeway brand white flour and tap water at 21:30.
I put it in a clean (large) applesauce jar, covered it gently with the lid (to keep out bugs, dust, and housemates), and put it on top of the refrigerator. I'll be scraping the sides and doing most of my mixing with a trusty red spatula.

I'll put up some pictures when I get batteries, hopefully tomorrow.
Right now, it's just a thick paste of flour and water. Woo hoo.

Oh, and, incidentally, I'm thinking about starting up yet another blog, this time for baking and for cooking in general. Name ideas include cranberryfairycakes, accidentalvegan, thebrokevegetariancooks, and bakeroutofeggsandbutter.
But I have one for study abroad, crafting, ranting about randomness, and even a defunct one for computer stuff; do I really need a fifth?
My train of thought here is that I could stick with this blog as a conglomeration of my university life, which definitely does not include anything crafty or remotely interesting, maintain my crafty blog over the summers, and continue ignoring the computer blog, while dumping everything that's not crafting or studying abroad here. If, by happy chance, I find myself abroad again, the study abroad adventures will start back up with quasi-regular updates. As it stands, it might be simpler to keep everything on this blog.
If you have thoughts, I'd love comments, but I'm really not expecting anything. Input would be valued, but ultimately ignored. Welcome to life.

Fifty Eighth Post

You may recall that I wanted to read at least 20 new books this summer. If not, I refer you to this post, number 1 in The List (you'll know it when you see it).

1. Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë. 

The Brontë sisters (Emily, Charlotte, and Anne – mostly Emily and Charlotte, and then, I think, mostly Emily) are engaged in a sort of contention with Jane Austen. I kind of understand this, as they were all contemporary female authors who wrote about ladies who ended up getting married. The thing is that Jane writes about a world that seems totally alien to the world of the Emily and Charlotte. Pride and Prejudice is widely regarded as one of everybody’s favourite books. It’s peaceful, with enough drama to stay interesting. Elizabeth Bennet is beset by enough troubles and has enough acknowledged flaws that she is believable and likeable, but she still gets a happy ending, as does pretty much everyone else with the possible exception of Lydia. On the other hand, Jane Eyre gets a happy ending, but Bertha Rochester really does not, and even Mr. Rochester has tragedy. Catherine Linton gets a happy ending (eventually, sort of), but Catherine (Earnshaw) Linton, Edgar Linton, Isabella Linton, Hindley Earnshaw, Young Linton, and Heathcliff do not. Virginia Woolfe (in A Room of One’s Own) points out that the writing styles, and the story styles, are completely different. Jane Austen wrote in fairly unbroken periods, all by herself, and Pride and Prejudice reflects this in its even narrative and graceful dialogues. Emily Brontë, at least, did not have this luxury. Wuthering Heights is full of angry characters, short bursts of dialogue, and choppy narrative. 

All this does not mean that I dislike the book in any way. I’m just pointing out that it’s different from Pride and Prejudice in some very fundamental ways, which makes straightforward comparison idiotic. In fact, I really enjoyed Wuthering Heights, which is one of my new favourites. It takes its place among Jane Eyre, The Story of Avis, and Crime and Punishment as a book that is steeped in raw, intense emotion and is full of questions to ask. 

X. Tess of the D'Urbervilles, Thomas Hardy. 

I’m having a hard time with Tess. So far, it’s well written, but perhaps too well. I internalize Tess's guilt, shame, fear, which is bad when things are rough at all. I will finish it this summer, but I’m not sure when.

2. Guards! Guards! Terry Pratchett. 

I needed something light to counter the depression brought on by the combination of financial woes and Tess's issues, and the Pratchett picked up at the same time as Tess was perfect. It introduces (I believe) several of my favourite characters: Sam Vimes (drunk watchman), Sybil Ramkin (Swamp Dragon Breeder and also a Lady), Carrot Ironfoundersson (six-foot-tall dwarf and watchman), and Detritus (troll “bouncer” at a tavern who appears in later books as a watchman). I’m not sure when Lord Vetinari is installed as Patrician – I need to check in The Color of Magic for a mention of him. The book is dedicated to under appreciated guards everywhere, including mall cops.

3. Sourcery, Terry Pratchett. 

Guards! Guards! was over too quickly, so I read another Pratchett. This book is another one regarding Rhincewind (whose hat says “Wizzard”). This time he goes  toe-to-to with evil in the form of the eighth son of an eighth son of an eighth son (which explains why wizards are now celibate). This book is very much before the books I picked up with, and there is a different set of wizards running the Unseen University. That took some getting used to, but Sourcery is a look, as per usual, at the darkness in one’s own soul. I don’t know why I like them so much.

4. This Side of Paradise, F. Scott Fitzgerald. 

I want The Great Gatsby, but it’s far too expensive as a rule. As a result of This Side of Paradise being $1 to The Great Gatsby’s $12, I went with the cheaper and now have plans to hunt down more of his works. I was expecting stuffy, but Fitzgerald brought an unlikeable person through his rocky childhood, his irritating adolescence, and his frustrated college years and turned him into a sympathetic character that still has serious issues. He’s still frustrating and irritating and childish at times, but he’s a real person who’s had real experiences and who sacrifices and loves and hurts. The book is a serious book, meant to make one question pretty much everything.

5. Equal Rites, Terry Pratchett. 

This was unusually hard to read, for a Pratchett. I blame the feminist issues at the core of the book. After I took Women Writers (EL-126) for my American Diversity credit in the spring of my freshman year, I have a hard time seeing sexism without anger. Happily, Pratchett seems to share this point of view. Esk, his eight-year-old heroine, lashes out at a chauvinist culture that won’t allow her to be a wizard, even though a dying wizard passed his staff and power on to her infant self.  

6. The Light Fantastic, Terry Pratchett. 

Book no. 2 in the discworld series, holy cow. Definitely a sequel to The Color of Magic, purchased but as yet unread. This one explains how Rhincewind acquired the Luggage, which apparently belonged to Twoflower (I first met him in Interesting Times). I’m going to read this again after reading The Color of Magic in hopes of gaining a better understanding

7. The Food of the Gods, H.G. Wells. 

This is a sci-fi novel from well before my time. Then, 20 years in the future was before my grandparents had even met. It’s still an engaging read, although I was suspicious of book that was made into B horror flicks about giant bugs. Ergh. However, it was more about human nature than big bug bugs. Two thoroughly boring scientists discover a compound that will cause continuous growth through childhood and adolescence. England eventually decides that the “Children of the Food,” giants more than forty feet tall, are second-class citizens and forbid them from traveling the public roads. Being small and delicate comes into fashion. One young giant, a gentle, curious man, wanders into London in search of the answers that his village leaders refused to give him; a mob kills him. Two giant lovers are forbidden to see one another, but they flee to an encampment of giants, where the fate of the world is changed. Through it all, “normal” people are stubborn and closeminded, feeling threatened by anything different. I have plans to read more Wells.

8. The Sign of Four, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Also The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, a few weeks later (see number 14 for details). 

I now have plans to read the rest of the Sherlock Holmes stories. I really enjoyed seeing where the 2009 movie drew on the books; I spotted a few direct quotes from both Holmes and Watson. The Sign of Four is an engaging story. I understand why the stories have survived and been adapted so many times. Holmes is unlikeable, arrogant, and brilliant. His redeeming factors are his assertions that class is no distinguisher of persons, his fierce desire to right all wrongs, and his care for his associates (generally, just Watson, but sometimes including his clients or their friends and relatives). He’s not the stiff man in a deer-stalker hat of bad detective jokes, but rather a rough-and-tumble boxer, chemist, geologist, and “self poisoner” (i.e. tobacco and cocaine addict. I was surprised, too). 

9. Cliges, Chrétien de Troyes. 

It was the only unread story in my Chrétien anthology from Arthurian Literature, so I read it. As expected, it was way better than the last two installments in the Vulgate Cycle, but more annoying than I remembered. Then remembered that my favourite was Silence, not a Chrétien at all. It was okay, but not awfully interesting. First in the story is how two beautiful people come together (yawn, I had forgotten how much the man has love personified), and second is how Cliges, their son, had his inheritance and true love stolen. He proceeds to steal back both, which would be exciting if his lady wasn’t so whiney. 

10. Dakhmeh, Naveed Noori. 

I am fascinated by iranian revolution (the recent 1980s muslim one that set the country back about 400 years as far as human, especially women's, rights are concerned), thanks to Reading Lolita in Tehran (Azar Nafisi's memoir). This is a novel from view of young man who returns to iran from US, tries to “help” the downtrodden rebellion, and is imprisoned, as opposed to the memoir view of professor who leaves. It’s hard read, thanks to the brutal voice of the narrators. Life was not nice. It was not fun. 

11. The Color of Magic, Terry Pratchett. 

The first of pratchett’s discworld series. Having recently read light fantastic, I was eager to read this one. a falling out with the cousins with whom we were staying on vacation prompted me to put down Pnin and pick up something that I knew would make jokes and end well. The Color of Magic is now a comfort book for me. It’s an odd quirck of human nature (or just Raeann nature) that the things that bring comfort during sickness and stress are associated with the comfort instead of the stress. My favourite movie: Dune, watched first when sick. My favourite hot drink: Alpine apple cider, first imbibed in great quantity when writing stressful papers with a headache. My favourite clothes: loose, comfortable clothes that I’ve probably worn while sick. Favourite childhood books: those read to me when I was sick. My new favourite book (replacing nothing, with the possible exception of Louis L’Amour; Terry Pratchett and Charlotte Brontë, Fyoder Dostoyevsky, and Tom Clancy can’t really be compared on the same scale): The Color of Magic, read when I was dealing with a real, honest-to-God family fall-out that led to us leaving twenty minutes later without any of our cold food. I saw my parents in a much more vulnerable state than ever before, and realised that it is indeed possible for people to dislike my family after real association with us. I won’t say that we were saints, but we didn’t deserve the opinion that my cousins formed of us.  

12. Pnin, Vladimir Nabokov. 

I was working on Pnin the day before that relationship went in the crapper. Happily, Pnin is a much lighter novel emotionally than Tess, or I would probably never read another Nabokov. I hope to read more Nabokov, because I want to gain some more context for how I view the book. I’ll probably reread it and form a new opinion when it’s not in the context of misery and confusion, and bookending The Color of Magic. The book is not about an issue, as most of my books are, but about a man. I had trouble following it for a while, at least until I figured out that it was never going to be about a central issue/concept/conflict. Actually, I really want to reread it when I have time to really think about the whole thing and the underlying message that I’m sure is there. (This was another reading inspired by Reading Lolita in Tehran. Lolita is a Nabokov that Nafisi teaches. I wanted Lolita, but Pnin was the only book I could afford.) I plan to make an attempt to compare Nabokov with Dostoyevsky, one of my favourites, and Tolstoy (not really a favourite). It’ll happen anyway, since they’re all Russian, but I’d like to do it consciously. Nabokov lived and wrote in a different era than did Dostoyevsky, and my analysis will reflect that.

13. Carpe Jugulum, Terry Pratchett. 

Hooray hilarity! I definitely ditched King Lear for this one. Shakespeare puts me to sleep, as awesome as he is, especially when I’m stressed about anything. Most poetry does, actually. I am not a poetry person, although I do plan to finally finish King Lear (been working on him since… fall semester) and also work on The Canterbury Tales this summer. Anyway. Carpe Jugulum is pretty much about discovering that you’re strong enough to deal with just about anything. One character demonstrates this very literally, as her “alter ego” (floabw) is actually physically stronger than she is. Instinct, motherly and otherwise, takes a strong place in the book as well. The book is also, as per usual for Pratchetts, about not being an asshole. It sounds really trite when I put it this way, but the book is really awesome. Read it, losers.

14. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. 

See number 8, The Sign of Four, for a description. The collection from HarperCollins includes “A Scandal in Bohemia”, “The Red-headed League”, “A Case of Identity”, “The Boscombe Valley Mystery”, “The Five Orange Pips”, “The Man with the Twisted Lip”, “The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle”, “The Adventure of the Speckled Band”, “The Adventure of the Engineer’s Thumb”, “The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor”, “The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet”, and “The Adventure of the Copper Beeches”. As stated above, I am very fond of these stories and have plans to acquire the rest. As it is, I owe my parents a clean room for this one. 

Only six to go and it's only July!

Regarding the rest of my list: I have not worked much on German, I have a job and am planning a yard sale, I have not finished any of the projects that I mentioned, I have not gone swimming, I still don't have a bike (but I have gone on walks), I have not flagged down the ice cream truck, I have planted Something, I have not watched much TV at all, I haven't done much cooking, I haven't cleaned my room, I haven't been to a yard sale, I haven't run through any sprinklers at all (although I did get wet on my way back from my first night of work), and I haven't had time to work on being ambidextrous.

16 Things To Do This Summer

I'm deviating from my normal post-naming method because this post is mostly a list. It is still the Fifty Sixth Post, it's just going incognito.
While taking my daily stroll around my development, I was struck by the temptation to run through sprinklers. This is, I believe, a typical summer activity, but I couldn't let go of the idea. My list of things to do this summer began thus:
1. Run through someone else's sprinklers.
2. Get the paper route three blocks up if that stupid guy ever returns my calls.
3. Start the job at the concessions stand.
4. Go to San Francisco with my family.
5. Save $3,000 so that I have a shot at not bankrupting myself in England.
6. Tutor the (understandably) crabby 13-year-old for money, I hope.

This is hardly a practical list for other people. Most other people are not getting a job at a local baseball team's concessions stand, going to England in the fall, or going to San Francisco with my family.
Because I am going to be bored and lonely this summer, even when my jobs start up, I decided to google some lists of things to do in the summer, then make my own list.
Most of them are stupid, teenage-specific, regional, or for large groups. As I am not stupid, teenaged (turned 20 last September), in the regions specified, or a large group, I saw immediate flaws in my plan. However, I have sifted the chaff from the wheat (or, perhaps, collected the diamonds from the dog poop) and created this list for you single twenty-somethings just off college with all your friends far off and neither steady job nor car in a small-ish town. The list is designed by (and therefore for) a lonely introvert. Half the things are there to get me out of the house and around people so that my family and I don't hate one another and so that I have to take a bath sometime.

The List of 16 Regionally Unspecific Things To Do By Yourself During Any Summer For 20-Somethings
1. Read x books. "x" will take on any number assigned to it, so set your own value for x. For me, x=20 new books. You lot might get a list from me sometime. First up: Tess of the D'Urbervilles (Thomas Hardy), Wuthering Heights (Emily Brontë), and Guards! Guards! (Terry Pratchett). Do mix "classic literature" with more recent, light-hearted selections. It keeps things fun. You should also consider re-reading some old favourites to ease the mental strain of reading new books that you may or may not like. Try to turn in old books that you don't like anymore at a second-hand book store for store credit, or just use the library. Personally, I like to have books that I've read on my own shelf. It looks more impressive. Also, second hand books give your books that well-read look, are fairly cheap, and sometimes have cool old covers. My only problem is that I like all the paperbacks that I have and the main source of my book-trading doesn't take hardcovers.
2. Learn a new language. I plan to continue with German, hopefully aided by my friend who will be interning over there.
3. Do Something to earn money. Yard sale (recruit your mom or other more experienced female and offer her a percentage), lemonade stand (recruit a small friend or relative and offer it some free lemonade, or maybe a percentage if they get pushy), car wash (may require too much recruiting for a single, friendless person. Call upon siblings if you must.), paper route... (Except for the paper route, all are good for social interaction.)
4. Finish a project. I have a scarf and three bags that are in the works as we speak that have not been touched since... September. And another scarf that I started last week. Oh, and that half-done crochet owl...
5. Go swimming. Cliché, I know, but with no pool membership, no friends in the US with a pool, and no local pool anywhere near me, I still plan on being fully submerged at least one time this summer. This counts for at least a week of social interaction due to the traumatizing effect of being in a swim suit in public and in a pool or body of water that probably includes shrieking children.
6. Go to a farmer's market. Another cliché one, but they are the source of many delights. Fresh vegetables in larger quantities and variety than I can grow at home? Yes, please. Also, helping local farmers is apparently a big deal. (Also, social interaction! Good for up to three days, depending on how violent the other shoppers are.)
7. Ride a bike Somewhere. If you, like me, are currently... in the market for a bike, as it were, then find a cheap old one. That's my plan, anyway. It is my intention to ride a bike to work at the concession stand because I feel lame driving the car that I might not have three minutes, but I don't like walking alone at night. If you are too broke to get a bike, steal your brother's for the afternoon. If he actually uses his bike, or doesn't have one, then walk, scooter, or (maybe) rollerblade. Get yourself to an ice cream place (it's okay if that is McDonald's. I won't judge, and ice cream is ice cream.) or the 7 Eleven (a good 10-minute drive into a sketchy area of town for me) for a Slurpee (®/©/™/whatever). Only rollerblade Somewhere if you want to bring a bag of shoes, or if you have a decent walk-up espresso place nearby (Dutch Bros. springs to mind, or one of those cool local affairs). This also gets you social interaction, hopefully only enough for one day. McDonald's might push it to two and a half.
8. Overuse parenthetical phrases. (Done!)
9. Flag down the ice cream truck instead of just swearing at it for interrupting your nap. It won't make the music go away faster, but you'll at least get overpriced ice cream for your trouble.
10. Plant Something. I'm working on several bonsai, but those aren't the most instantly gratifying plants ever. Getting to a store for seeds or plant supplies will suffice for at least one day of social interaction, while the following time spent with a plant will help calm your nerves after that traumatizing event.
11. Watch the back episodes of your favourite TV show. I have no hopes of finishing even the new series of Doctor Who this summer, and I can't seem to find the old series on DVD. Let me know if you have any hints on where I can find the complete original series for cheaper than it ought to be.
12. Make a gourmet version of something normal. Lemonade, ice tea, pizza, tomato and cheese sandwich, ice cream, whatever. If you don't have something snobby in your mom's cookbooks, try google. For instance, I made fancy kebab-y things today instead of having... something else, like the three-day-old chili that's slowly going bad in the fridge. This fancy cooking thing generally requires going to the grocery store, which is enough social interaction for at least two days. Alternatively, if you are exceptionally clever, willing to plan ahead, and able to accept defeat, you can go to the farmer's market and get fresh (no really, fresh) ingredients for your fancy-schmancy meal. Drawback: sometimes, that one thing that you need is not there. Deal with it and get everything else, plus some strawberries.
13. Clean my room. This one is personal. I also need to clean the garage, a task at which I failed last summer. This has the added benefit of temporarily stopping my mom nagging me to clean my room and contribute to the household. In mom's defence, she doesn't nag that much unless I'm really pissy for some reason. It's possible that I'm perceiving nagging where there is none.
14. Go yard sale-ing. If nothing else, this can give you a sense of relief about all the crap that's not at your house. It can also serve as your weekly dose of social interaction. I know I swear off people for at least three days after a yard sale, depending on how early I got there.
15. Run through someone else's sprinklers. I guess I just really like the idea of an adult doing that by him- or herself.
16. Become ambidextrous. If you're right-handed (like me), learn to write with (or just use) your left hand. If you're a lefty, you're probably not too bad at a few things with your right. This is useful mainly in the area of crime-committing. Using the opposite hand can throw the cops off your scent. I suppose you could also use this skill to impress your friends, write on the back of spiral notebook or binder pages,  and have some insurance for when you break your dominant arm doing something stupid.

Thirtieth Post: Solstice Special!

It is now Summer.

Summer is boring.

However, at this point the days will start getting shorter again.

Thank God for the solstice.

Unfortunately, it also means that I have three months left of "summer", with only two of them not involving school.

I almost-but-not-quite envy my cousin, and my friends at quarter schools. They actually follow the seasons. School starts at the end of September (start of fall) and ends in the middle of June (beginning of summer).

It just makes sense.

But it also makes sense to get back from school before the quarter school students, and snap up any jobs one can find.

Which, admittedly, isn't much. But we still get there first, by golly.

Suckers.

Twenty Ninth Post

Hey, y'all.

It's my summer! Has been for a week now, but that's not the point. You thought you were getting up-to-date, first-glimpse news? Well, think again.

Anyhow, it's summer.

Yep.

I'm mostly sitting around my house waiting for my job to start.

And... Yeah.

Don't expect much.

Twenty Eighth Post

Ahoy!
I did not get enough sleep last night. It was a long night.
I am not really that coherent, but "eighth" is a really weird word.
Also, hypogynous flowers have the petals below the ovary. Epigynous flowers have the petals above. Perigynous means the petals are around the middle of the ovary.
I have random shoots of knowledge in my head now. I remember bits and pieces of everything, but not really enough to say I have a good grasp on anything.
I got to do calculus yesterday- well, today, but before I slept- because my friend couldn't do it and asked me for help. I miss calculus.
This, see, is how boring I am. I think calculus is fun. Fun! FUN!
At least I'm better than the kid who hasn't slept in 72 hours. He stole my seat in biology. I was not happy. But he didn't notice my glare since he was trying to stay awake. He "sees" the shadows moving.
I was going to nap after the biology exam, but I wasn't tired anymore... so I'm just going to keep going until my karate final, at which point I will be on such an adrenaline rush that IT WON'T MATTER.
Then I'll be done with class.
Until September.
I'm just going to go hide under my bed now.

Twenty Fifth Post

The last semester of this year is nearly half way done. I'm a little bewildered by this, since friends at other schools are on quarters and shan't be out until mid to late June. I, on the other hand, will be out in mid May. Wow.

This of course means that I have to actually finish things up earlier than my other-school counterparts. I plan to convince my parents to invest in scone-making ingredients, since scones are my favourite breakfast foods. I think I'll have a harder time convincing them to get an espresso machine so that I can have my white chocolate mochas and raspberry lattes, though.

(cue heavy sigh)

It will be nice to be home, away from the girl-drama that has overtaken my hall. I myself am caught up in a bit of it, with an irritating boy who refuses to leave me alone dogging my footsteps. I use dogging here as an insult; a look at my profile will reveal my profile picture to be a cat. That is because I love cats and hate dogs.

In any case, I'm conflicted about the whole going home thing. I will definitely miss my friends and the pre-paid coffee and scones, but I will not miss the current misery bug that seems to be going around.

To all you quarter students, I pity you. And almost envy you, since you're done with quarters at breaks. However, I have class in 9 hours and must get some rest. Abschied.