A Bizarre Yesterday

During Thanksgiving break I got to sleep in. Because of that, my body realized how much sleep it misses because of my wee swimming hobby. This week has been rough, I feel like I'm always behind, and my body feels like some careless giant smashed it with a sledge hammer.

Yesterday all of this caught up to me in discrete mathematics. I fell asleep while taking notes, resulting in a huge ink puddle/blob on my paper (I'm not going to talk about the drool). I only woke up when someone's cell phone clattered onto the floor loudly. I awoke with a start, and realized I was going to be late to weights (I leave this class early so I can make it to weights).

You know that strange point of no return? The one that if you push past it, you get delirious and loony? I hit that in the middle of workout in the pool. We were doing our power circuit, a circuit that takes place in two pools. I was in the dive tank and I discovered some goggles. They were huge, ridiculous, and reminded me of the ones I wore as a kid. I put them on.

That's when it all started. I continued to work my butt off, but that didn't stop me of making impressions of little kids wiping their nose, and giggling. I talked with my group trying to figure out the silliest way to intimidate your opponents. They really liked two: One where I wore the little kid goggles, ears flapping out of my cap, and I roared while flexing (think of the x-man, Wolverine), then giggle and wipe my nose. The second, same appearance, but instead, acting like the cute little dinosaur in Jurassic Park. The one that invades the jeep, then turns into this monster with the hissing and strange flap that makes it look bigger.

I was triple-dog-dared to do it to Greg. Who can pass that up? I was loony and stupid enough to do it. I said, "Hey Greg, what do you think of my new stretching routine before my race?" Then I roared at him. He laughed so hard, he almost couldn't stand up...

Then I got to go to class again til 7. Ran to the store afterward to get milk. As I was leaving the store, a little girl pointed at me and shrilly screamed "IT'S SANTA!" I was wearing my U letterman jacket and a white scarf. Dang. I was hoping my beard wouldn't give me away.

I got home, and what should I find? Mom had come and made dinner! So all I had to do was eat, then I was well on my way to that heavenly place called dreams and sleep.

The thing is, I have had discussions with friends about this...

Here is a listing for a class offered at the U next spring:

3900 Star Trek, the Quest to be Human (3) Cross listed as CLCS 3810. Prerequisite: 2000 level requirements. Fulfills Humanities Exploration.
This course will give students the intellectual experience of grappling with the complex question of what it means to be human in the context of pop culture phenomenon that is Star Trek: The Next Generation. The course will be highly interdisciplinary and involve study of wide range of subjects-including child development and attachment theory, psychoanalysis, neuroscience, creativity and the fine arts, disability studies and prosthetics, and cyborg theory-in order to explore the nature of love and loss, empathy and anxiety, and whether one is born human or becomes human.


I'll bet they'll talk quite a bit about Data in that class. Is he considered human? He seems to have the natural curiosity of a human, always wondering what it would be like to be human...

By the way...

I forgot to mention one thing in my last entry: We swimmers go through a training phase here at the U, fondly called "Peak Week." We subject ourselves to be on call 24/7 for eight days. We have to be within a 15 minute radius of the pool. Not only do we have to workout, but we also have to do additional activities, such as making a skit-on video, and it has to have a lamp in all the scenes, and you must represent every team in the conference. Or you have to make a calendar featuring members from your team. Or you have to play "night games" for three hours, roaming all over campus at midnight. Or you have to do a picture scavenger hunt. Or you have to do an amazing race. Or you have to to "the gauntlet." Or watch Back to the Future 1, 2, and 3, and know it by heart. Not only know the movie and the storylines, but know the background signs, like "Western Auto Stores," or how much the gas cost in 1955. The list goes on and on. But guess what? We, the Junior Class, known as "The Juniors 9," or "JRS9," won the entire competition overall. Yes, us. Our reward? Oversized wide t-shirts that aren't long enough. But that doesn't matter. We got a prize, and it is awesome. Not only does it say "U swim & dive," but on the back of the shirt it has some Michael Jackson lyrics (We did the "Thriller" dance for our skit, and the Juniors 9 sounds an awful lot like "the Jackson 5.") that we used throughout the week for our cheers and whatnot. We just got the shirts this week. Peak week was almost a month ago. Awesome, awesome.

November already?

The "Juniors 9" (Trying to be like the "Jackson 5"). This was our team for "Peak Week," which takes place during fall break. We're on call 24/7 for swim practice, since NCAA rules don't apply. A very hard week.

Dancing "Thriller" during movie trivia practice. (We got the question correct, and had to do a "dance party" while those teams who got the answer wrong had to do a hard set.)

It's November already?! Where did the time go? Wow.

Dad just got his knee surgery yesterday, talked to him on the phone, and it sounded like it went well. I hope to find some time to visit him tonight. He said they took pictures of it on mom's camera. Perhaps I'll take my computer tonight and see if I can upload a couple for the world to see.

Life is going well, and is flying by fast. I've had a couple of good first meets, I'm swimming better than I thought I would.

Nothing new is going on, just being the same old me. Swimming. Schooling. Sleeping. Slurping. Snaffling. Oh, and I learnt the Thriller dance with some of my teammates.

I'm really enjoying my math classes, and a couple of my education classes. The only one I really enjoy out of the three education classes is ELP: education law policy. It's really fascinating to understand just what rights students and teachers give up when they are in the school setting.

It's amazing how out of hand some zero-tolerance policies can get: We talked about a case where a 12-year old girl brought a store-bought cake to class for her birthday. Inside the box was a plastic knife to cut the cake, put there by her mother. The teacher cuts up the cake with the knife, then sends the girl to the principal's office where she was suspended.
Or the time three kindergarteners were playing cops and robbers at recess. They were suspended for three days for pretending to shoot each other.

And I come from a high school where I took a pocket knife on A days for my woods class. (Very handy for getting the slivers out). Sometimes without thinking, I pulled it out during other classes to get one of those stupid slivers out. I was never even warned. I think no one cared. And yet, at a high school close to mine, a student was suspended for having a pocket knife in the glovebox in his car. Very interesting.

Update

Well, nothing truly new is going on...last night I burned brownies and pizza, so I lived off of zucchuni bread Dad left me...

On Monday, I was walking to my class in the institute building, when I almost ran over a bunch of little midgets turning a corner. Embarrassed, I quickly made my way to the main area (between the East and West wings) and sat on a chair and hid behind a newspaper, all the while thinking, "Hey, one of those little kids looked really, really familiar." As I was racking my brain to figure out why, the familiar-looking-kid walked by with his little troupe surrounding him. He glanced at me and smiled and left the building. My slow brain finally made the connection: It was in fact, David Archuleta. Taking a class at Institute. Maybe.

Today he showed up again, so I guess he really is taking a class. Only he hid his little face in a scarf. Apparently he just got his wisdom teeth out (according to Twitter) and still looks like a chipmunk.

The only other thing that's new is that I'm helping an ESL class out at Evergreen Junior High (hey, that's where Emily works!). I was expecting a bunch of spanish-speaking students, but no, most of the students are refugees from the Middle East and Africa. They are actually a lot of fun to interact with and to teach. Some want to learn quickly, while others seem hesitant/shy/rebellious.

Anything else? Oh, I find I'm usually an excellent cook when it comes to crepes, omelettes, wraps, rice pudding, cereal, toast, oatmeal, desserts, and PB&J sandwiches. Anything else will come out black, burnt, and smoky. But I figure that's a good enough staple. What else does a college student wish for?

Well, it has started all over again!

Yes, I'm busy busy busy again. And yet, somehow, I don't mind being crazily busy. I enjoy having almost no time to be lazy. I get more stuff done that way, I suppose. "Official" swim practice doesn't start til the 8th, but we've been practicing every day anyway without the coaches present. Some poor freshman yesterday only ate a granola bar and a sandwich for the entire day. Needless to say, she passed out during our dryland workout. We got a lecture from coach after that practice that we need to eat at least 4-6 meals everyday! I don't mind that rule. I love second breakfast.

Classes so far are going well. I'm supposedly officially a math education major. I'm taking three education classes, and two math classes. The education classes are all right. The only one I really like and feel is truly useful is my "Education Law Policy" class. It talks about the rights of teachers and students under the law, what protections the teachers have, etc. etc. etc. We have to compile a bunch of news articles about education and the law, and it's ridiculous how many people try to sue teachers for this or that. Some are legit, but many are not so much. For one of my other education classes, "Introduction to Multicultural Education" one of the requirements is to volunteer at a school and help out immigrants, refugees, whatnot to learn english, or with their homework. Emily and I have arranged that, so I'll be helping out at Evergreen a few times a week.

So, that will be my life this semester. Math, education, homework, swimming, and volunteering. No time for dating or any of that nonsense. Yay!!!

Something out of the ordinary

During warm up in swim practice today I decided to do some kicking with a kick board. I wasn't thinking about anything in particular, then some tiny dark blob caught my eye. It was quickly falling towards the water, specifically, towards me! Without thinking, I lifted my hand up to catch it. And lo and behold! A hummingbird looked wearily up at me. I wish I could say I was smart enough to cup my hands around him, and climb out and set him free outside of the pool (lots of birds die in our pool area because they can easily get in, but they can't figure out how to get out...). But I was not smart. I confess the thought did cross my mind, but if I couldn't use my arms, I have no idea how to get out of such a tall-guttered pool. Instead the hummingbird and I gazed at each other, studied each other, and after about two or three minutes, he lifted his wings and left. I really hope he found a way out. I'll think of it that way to make me happy, even though it's probably not the case.

Summer Re-runs

How's my summer going, you may ask? It's a mash-up rehash of summers past:


Teaching Swim Lessons,Swimming,Life guarding (rarely),Watching BBC dramas,Having a strange fascination with hippos, and Not hearing things quite right.

And so on and so forth.

Marriot Library, Part Two

I love the Marriot Library at the University of Utah. But sometimes you get a little disappointed and pleased at the same time.

I get to write a ten-page math paper (again), this time on Mercator, a man who made maps in the late-ish 16th century. We still use his system today. He created a map that used straight lines but still depicted the latitude and longitude correctly. Blah blah blah. I'll get to the point:

There aren't very many resources on this guy. Most of the books that were applicable to what I needed were in Latin. In fact, the three books I managed to check out in English are all related to each other, one cites the other two, the other two cite each other, etc.

When I was looking him up in the library catalogue, I found that the library had some of his own original works translated into English! I was excited to have such good resources, only to find that the books themselves are so rare, they are enclosed in glass boxes where you can't even thumb the pages for the information you need. Awesome! And dang.

I'll go back to reading his biography, hoping to find the necessary math in there somewhere...

Images of Pullman Thus Far

(the picture above was actually from a couple of summers ago. I'm just stealing it because it's just so sad I had to wipe out on a razor scooter in Pullman. Yes, I was going downhill, yes, I was wearing flip-flops with no mean to stop, yes, I tipped over when my overly large feet refused to cooperate in using the teeny little brake...and I licked the road pretty good.)

Amusing Quiz

Only two questions (three if you count the question asking what gender you are.)

I took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test! "Wishes to live a peaceful life with no problems or..." Click here to read the rest of the results.

Mutiny

The brain is awake, alert, excited to learn all the new materials being presented by the man in front of the classroom, writing things on the board, but mostly talking and pointing at a brightly lit screen. The body is exhausted and mad at the brain. The ears go first, shutting off, mixing up the sound, spinning it, twirling it into lulling white noise. The eyelids go next, they gain 50 lbs within seconds. The neck gives in last, refusing to hold the head up and lets go.

A squishy hand with golden bracelets reaches out and steals a key on your desk. A baby gorilla staring at you eating mush. A dog wags its tail. A little girl crying. Airplane flying. People. Faces. Trees. Mice. Rush of wind. Pain! The ears turn back on, the eyes open, and the nose hurts. Lazy hands reach up and determine it's not broken nor bleeding. The body straightens up and apologizes to the eager brain and stays awake this time. But just.

A professor teaching "Analysis of Statistics," probably the most boring class he's had to teach yet, sees a student slowly nodding, then her head falls face-first SMACK into the desk. Too bad everyone else is half-asleep, otherwise she'd be quite embarrassed. He keeps talking.

Because I forgot to call her and tell her...

Happy birthday big sister!

First, I want to congratulate Megan on running an ENTIRE marathon! Way to go! You are TOUGH. I hope someday to be as tough as you. But I don't think I'll ever be crazy enough (or tough enough) to run a marathon. Maybe I'll bike one.

Thank you for being a good example to me. I'm sorry for the time I snuck into your room and took some sharp scissors and cut up your beautiful cross-stitch project.

Thanks for letting me see Willie being born. It's an experience to remember (forget?).

Thanks for the countless times you'd take me for a drive and get me a kid's meal at Wendy's. I remember you used to like to get their breadsticks. They don't have those anymore.

Thanks for always having a smile when you see me. Makes the day all the brighter.

Thanks for being an awesome mom to your kids, and a wonderful wife.

Thanks for going to Logan, to Utah State to play soccer. Those were some of my favorite Sundays, where we'd drive up to beautiful Logan, especially in the Fall, see you play, and eat dinner with you.

Keep up the good work! I think you're doing several things right!

Naps

Anyone else got interesting expressions said after waking up from a nap?

Mom waking up to a phone call from someone trying to sell her a credit card:
"Why are you even trying to sell this to me? I'm only fourteen years old!"
solicitor: "ma'am?"

Willie after waking up from a nap in the car:
"Where are the bad guys? I need to protect my cereal!!"

On being cold

So, alone in the house, and freezing. What is one to do? I didn't want to turn on the heater, heat up the entire house for my benefit, one person. I put on warm clothes, and still cold. Look around the house and discover four windows open! Shut those up...still can't get warm.

Open a box of expired kettle corn, pop it, and stick the bag inside my jacket. Ahhhhh! The warm air seeps out the top, warming my face, while the bag itself is heaven.

This is what happens when you're alone in a big house and cold.

phhssshh.

I was working me butt off in the trainer's room today, and I was sweating buckets. (Literally!)
All of a sudden, my training buddy looks up, eyes wide with shock, jaw wide open, you get the idea. Who else should walk in but Kobe Bryant, with his cronies, getting an ice bath? Yeah. Stripped down to little black spandex shorts, and everyone was having the times of their lives, giving him high fives and all. I finished my workout and left. He's just another one of us, that's all. What's the big deal?

I walked to the pool, and everyone on the team couldn't believe I left. "What's he like?" "Is he cool?" "Is he REALLY in there?" etc. etc. etc. They all looked at me expectantly for some profound amazing story. I sarcastically said, "Oh, my goodness. He's AMAZING." I rolled my eyes and made it clear it was no big deal. Everyone laughed. And a boy on the team piped up, "I'd give ANYTHING to be Kobe Bryant." (A disturbing comment, imo.)

I don't like that smug smirk on Kobe's face. "I'm rich and famous enough to get away with anything I want."

American Idol, eat your hearts out!

Hello "Britain's Got Talent!!!"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY&feature=related

(It won't let me put it on my own page because it's too cool for that.)

Never, never, never judge a book by its cover.

Stapleys, I plead with you to watch this!!! Everyone else, I know you'll enjoy it... but notice, it's about seven minutes long.

If you watched it, after you watched it, here's my scary thought: would an American audience have reacted the same way after she sang? I only ask this because Americans as a whole seem much more obsessed with appearance than Britains.

I haven't been this embarrassed in a long time

Once upon a time I got shoulder surgery. Cosequently, I have to work out on the bike, the elliptical, etc. And not in the pool. So I get very sweaty and have to actually take showers. After my shower this morning, I grabbed my dirty clothes, threw them on the floor and took a nap. I wake up half hour later, and notice it is snowing outside. So I grab my sweatshirt off the floor and walked to class, I was running a little later than usual, so I was in a little bit of a hurry. It wasn't til I got to class that I realized my sweaty panties were hanging out from the collar of my hoodie. Yeah. I just casually pulled them out and put them in my pocket, hoping that the people who saw it assumed it was a hankerchief or something!!!!! But I thought it was hilarious.

Yes I'm a nerd! And proud of it!

Oh, and I forgot, (just posted it a few hours after original post):





(I think only Ricky will appreciate the rest of the blog, so you don't have to keep reading if you don't want to) In math today, we talked about resonance and frequency and many experiments involving it.

The first video we watched was simply a wine glass breaking. I didn't know glass could vibrate that much! (NOTE: Do not listen to this video with sound. It's really annoying.)



Side view of same experiment. Note how long it takes shards to fall. Think how quickly that glass shatters completely!




One video we watched was the Tacoma Narrows Bridge (video is about five minutes long. I thought it was worth it!) Engineers had a hard time explaining why the bridge reacted the way it did, just resonant frequency couldn't have made the bridge collapse, they accounted for that several times. Apparently it was "aeroelastic flutter" that made the bridge collapse, a phenomena that wasn't well-understood at the time.

Okay, Dad or Ricky, which one did it?

I was looking up a couple of names of actors in Lord of The Rings: Return of the king. And what should I find but "Gondorian Soldier #1" was acted by Richard Edge?

Don't believe me?

Look here.

So, Dad or Ricky, do you have something to tell us?

Grandma

So, as I was trying to finish up some math homework, I started to think about things other than math.

I love the author of Frazz. I think Jef Mallett does a wonderful job of combining humor, wit, and true life. He really understands humans, I feel.

The particular strip on this page reminds me that even though Grandma K wasn't really "with it" the last couple of months, I don't have to choose to remember her that way. Or to remember looking at her glazed-over-eyes and blank face, checking for a pulse that I already knew wasn't there. I can remember the times....

...where I watched her with young eyes, my head not quite taller than the workspace table in the kitchen. She would make her wheat bread, and knead it with such ferocity, pat it into a ball, pick it up, and SLAM it down on the table with a loud bang. Sometimes I'd tease her by sticking my head up the back of her shirt, and she would laugh and kick me out of the kitchen...

...the time where mom and dad went somewhere for "a long time" as I would say, because I don't know exactly. Probably a week or something. But she came to our house and babysat us for that time. It was a fun week, sometimes cuddling with her in my parents' bed at night, watching the lightning storm that raged outside...

...when Grandma and Grandpa had their coffee (or pero, in Grandma's case), Grandma would get out the tea set for me. The beautiful teapot with little China glasses. She would fill it with delicious hot chocolate. Sometimes I got to eat cookies with this. It was one of my favorite times during the visit...

...Sleeping over. We always seemed to sleep over on Friday nights. Saturday morning, she would make the most delicious french toast (I thought) and orange juice. Then we'd head off to the store, as always. Sometimes it was Ream's, and sometimes it was Food4Less...

...The time that everyone was backpacking, and Grandma was babysitting Lindsey's evil Parakeet. (I always thought it was evil because it landed on me and started climbing up my neck, grabbing it with its beak, pull itself up, grab some more skin in its beak and pull its body up more...everyone always asks why didn't I just flick it off of me. Well, I didn't want to hurt it and make Lindsey mad at me!!) Anyhow, Grandma was taking a bath, Grandpa went outside, and I was left with the bird. Somehow I accidentally let it out, it flew to behind the front door. Being a young lass, I imagined Grandpa coming in the front door, and the bird flying outside, never to be seen again, and getting yelled at and punished by EVERYONE. So I ran downstairs and hid under the round table in the extra bedroom. Five minutes later, there was commotion and hustle and bustle and everyone shouting "NATALIE!" They even came to that room and shouted my name. Tears were rolling down my eyes. The bird definitely flew out. Now they're really mad at me! After a good 10-20 minutes, I finally stopped hugging my knees, and came out to be punished. Grandma was SO relieved. Grandpa was outside, so she ran out to let him know I was safe. He came back swearing and mad, but Grandma just hugged me and asked me what was wrong. I explained. The bird was no where to be seen. But after looking behind the front door (which was now open), he was just hanging out there, and the bird was safely put back into his cage...

...Grandma always has the sweetest smile when you came to visit. She was always happy to see and get company, especially after Grandpa died...

Grandma, thank you so much for all the good memories. I love you.

Not quite sure...

So I have a recurring dream. I'm still not quite sure what to make of it, so here goes:

I'm at a huge swim meet, and I managed to make it to the finals, the final heat, lane three! (Lane 4 usually has the fastest person, second fastest in lane five, third fastest in lane three) So I'm in a very good position. I for some reason get very stressed out that night, and realize I'm late to my event. I warmed up, haven't managed to get in my racing suit. I'm in my baggy old practice suit, swimming against some of the best swimmers in the world. As I stand behind the blocks, stretching, getting ready for the race of a lifetime, I look up only to realize the race has already started. I look at my lane, and it's empty. Definitely where I should have been. Instead of breaking down with disappointment, anger, or sadness, I only feel one emotion: intense and overwhelming relief. I curl up into a ball and sigh with contentment, thinking the only thing that will happen now is that Coach will kick me off the team.

Interesting. Maybe I could use this for my creative writing class somehow.

Post-surgery (and I mean post as in about a hour after coming home from said surgery)

I'm only going to write as much as I possibly can with this darn nerve blocker I have. (My arm is dead, feeling the same sensation you feel in your mouth when your dentist gives you that shot to deaden feeling in your mouth. Mine will last another 48 hours, since they sent a bottle of the stuff with me. Yay.)

Surgery. What to say about it? I don't remember much. They put a nerve blocker in my neck area, and now I can't currently feel anything on my left shoulder/arm below my neck. They asked me 15 minutes later to hold my arms out in front of me. My right arm did the task while my left arm rolled feebly off the bed. Ha ha ha!

Then I was in the operating room before I knew it. Last thing I remember there was taking nice deep breaths through an oxygen mask.

Not sure if it was a dream or real, but I saw bright operating lights, someone saying "she's coming to! We need...." then darkness again.

Next thing? In a dimly lit room, someone saying "Hello there! What's your mom and dad's names?"

"Richard and Vickie Edge."

"Good. You feeling awake?"

"Naw, kind of loopy. Like the times I rode a bus home from a trip, didn't get home til 4 in the morning."

For some reason I yanked the wires off my body. Then admitted to the nurse what I did. She took care of it. And I think we talked a lot after that. I remember constantly yanking the oxygen mask off my face so I sounded more clear. She finally just took it off. I was happy. And I remember drinking a lot of water, and feeling like I needed to go to the bathroom real bad.

Well, now I'm home and quite awake. Wow. Drugs can make one real loopy. I wonder what else slipped out of my rattling tongue when I was talking to the nurse.

Thank you mom for the lovely jamoca (spelling?) shake from arby's. SO good. Going to go finish it now.

Comment glitch fixed.

Writing ex. 1

“Come on, I just want to smile a real smile for once! Let me use it! Don’t shake your head. Just hand them over. I’m determined I will have it whether you like it or not. You know I don’t have my own because I can’t afford it. I spend my money on worthy causes like lottery tickets and cat food. Cats are real angels, and they are my only friends. Come on, give them to me! If you give them to me, I promise I’ll be quiet about it from now on. I just want to use them for a picture! Why won’t you be a decent person and hand them over? It’s not like you use them anyway. You’re not smiling! You’re not even using them right now!” Clarise was sick of all the jabbering. She reached into her mouth and gave her friend her dentures.

Writing ex. 2

Stark white fully describes the house on Paradise Street. Everything is neatly trimmed, nothing out of place, except for the little blemish in the southeast corner of the yard. A pair of brown eyes peered out of the window, staring at the flawed corner, puzzled.
Mom tells me that the sun is bad. It can give me skin cancer and turn me all brown. That’s why I don’t look out the windows often, and that’s why the blinds are always down, except for when I’m peeking out the window. I like peeking out the window. There’s so much out there! I close the blinds. The house is white inside. White paint, white carpet, white ceiling, even white couches! Mom says its that way because white is clean. My favorite spot in the room is the white couch. It’s in the middle of the room, surrounded by the air filters. They hum. Mom tells me they get rid of all the bad bacteria and dust that makes people sick. I hear being sick isn’t fun. I wonder what it’s like. I don’t ever go outside because there’s a lot of bad stuff in the air, not to mention the sun. Plus I could fall and get a bloody scrape. That wouldn’t be fun would it?
I see kids outside all the time. They must have terrible mothers. Moms don’t let their kids get sick or hurt. They should stay inside. They could DIE! But none of them have died yet. Maybe the blonde girl will. She’s always jumping up and down, with a rope swinging around. Maybe it’ll swing up and choke her to death. Or maybe that brown haired kid. He’s always riding this thing with two wheels. Maybe it’ll flip him over and EAT him.
Outside in the corner of the yard there’s a new weird creature living there. It was never like that before. Only green fuzz on the ground. It’s big and brown, and it has this mouth full of drool. I can’t figure out where its eyes are. I want to see what it is, but that means I would have to go OUTSIDE. If I go out there, I could DIE. But it’s so strange, so compelling. It has this weird scaly fur. I MUST see what if feels like. Mom’s in the kitchen making carrot cookies. If I was ever to go outside, this would be the time to do it!
I opened the blinds all the way. My eyes hurt so bad. The sun is nasty evil. I slowly opened the window. It was really loud and creaky. I don’t think it’s ever been opened before. Air rushed in! I’m already poisoned by the bacteria and pollen! I have no choice, but to proceed. Jumping out the window quietly was easier than I thought. The green fur felt so cool. Spiky, and it smelled like something I never smelled before. It smelled like...like…God. The creature's mouth is still gaping. I wonder if it’s DYING.
I slowly approach it, because I don’t want to scare it off. It doesn’t even twitch. Standing right next to it, I see that it’s already dead. There was nothing I could do to save it. Must’ve been that nasty bacteria that done killed it. I poke at its skin. My finger gets stuck inside, letting out a soft popping noise when I withdraw it. I see my reflection in the drool. Soon my face gets bigger and bigger and bigger… and I am in the creature, the creature is in me! Soft cool wet fur surrounds me and I it. I start having a hard time breathing. Almost as if I’m hyperventilating. But it feels so good! If this is what dying from bacteria and germs is like, then it isn’t so bad. Why am I having breathing problems? And why do they feel so darn good?
“Fanny! You get out of that mud this instant! You’re going to get sick and die! And we don’t want that, do we? And why are you laughing so hard?” My mom is really red. Maybe if I get some of this creature fur on her, she’ll hyperventilate too. I sling a mudball at her. Splat! It hits her right in the face. And I keep hyperventilating with loud “ha ha ha ha ha’s.”

Red Bike

So I've been looking around for a couple of weeks on ksl.com classifieds, trying to figure out what a good deal would be for a bike that I want to ride around campus, just a simple commuter bike. Being inexperienced and unsure, I asked Dad what he thought, and he found one after maybe 10 minutes of looking around! We drove up to Layton, looked at it, kicked the tires, and deemed it a good deal. So now I have a lovely red bike to ride around on campus! I'm very excited!!!

...Until I realize I get a week of having fun on it. Then I get my shoulder surgery on the 17th, then I can't really get on it for a few weeks. DANG.

My yellow bike with red writing is named "George." (Because it reminded us of the "Curious George" book covers) This bike is red. With dark blue writing. I'm trying to think up a name for it. Any suggestions?

DONE!!!

So, I didn't do as well as I hoped, but I'm still pleased with my performance. I did well, except for a couple of "chokes," where I was so tense and nervous that I didn't perform to my full capacity. I got no new personal best times, but I was right on the mark, which surprised me after training half the season on a bike. I thought it was pretty impressive I was almost as quick as I was last year on a good(ish) shoulder. :)

On Friday night, right before my 200 free, I was all alone on a black carpet, black curtains surrounding me. (It's the "prep" room for the finalists in events, and the others hadn't shown up yet.) Trying to calm down and relax, I was flat on my back, eyes shut, and all of a sudden a beautiful song was being blared on the speakers. (I assume it was blaring because I can't really hear, and I could hear this perfectly.) I never really heard it before (and you'll be shocked to know that because EVERYONE knows this song apparently), but it was "Sweet Caroline" by Neil Diamond. When I get back, I'm going to borrow a few CD's from the library. :)

Speaking of which, any musicians that I should know about? (I can't hear well, so I have to meticulously discover them myself, even if I've heard their stuff hundreds of times on the radio or whatnot I usually don't hear it very well, so I just tune it out...) They can be old or new, I like the ones my friends have suggested so far!!!

Stutter

All of a sudden it hit me. I'm excited in a scared nervous way.
Conference is next week. The "big meet" is NEXT WEEK. On the doorstep, knocking with a rotting gloved hand. Grinning at me with yellow long jagged teeth, eyes hidden under a hood, asking me "are ye ready?" (Yeah, I'm taking a creative writing class)
Looking deep down inside, I don't know the answer.

I'm inclined to ask myself often, "am I ready?" "Did I really put the work I needed to into it?" Usually every year I can say "I've done my best, I'm ready."

This year? Not so much. Thanks to my shoulder, I had a much different experience training this year. About half of it was out of the water on a bike. And when I was in the water, some days my shoulder would hurt, so I'd just kick. Other days, my shoulder didn't necessarily HURT, but the length of the set was tiring for the shoulder, which has probably lost much of its endurance muscles. So. Am I really ready for this meet? Do I really deserve to be on these relays? Or will I simply let my teammates down? I know I will do my best, and that's all I can do...but after pulling off a better performance than I expected last year, how can I maintain that level this season? Or should I not compare this season to last?

Stupid crackling shoulder. Makes me stutter with wonderings and doubt.

Poem for class

So, I meant to e-mail this to myself to save it, but e-mail isn't working for some weird reason. So I'm just putting this here for now. You don't have to read it. If you do, keep in mind, that a lot of history is meshed together. :)


I emerge from my dark dwelling into
the bright whiteness of day.
Snow flutters, clings, falls,
dances, catches, smashes into cement,
turning spotless white into dull grey.
Look up! Watch the ballet…Smack!
Some dancers collide with your eye,
making it cold, wet, and teary.
Tears rush, gush, hot onto your face.
Stupid parrot. Stupid toy parrot.
It was December 17, 1994,
my fifth birthday. Pink candles
illuminated my chocolate cake,
layers of vanilla ice cream drizzled
down the sides, making it so good.
Make a wish, blow out the flames.
See the fire fight, flutter, struggle, die.
Smoke sizzles, rising into the air, forgotten.
Blue crinkly wrapping paper hide
your surprise from your mom.
Seize it! Tear it! Discover the inside!
It’s red, yellow, blue! A toy parrot
lodged on a plastic brown log.
The most important part is the red button.
Press it, and record, and the parrot will
say anything you say. It’s your friend!
I yank it out, push the round red and say—
“Natalie’s a smelly old goat!”
My older brother and sisters yell.
“Natalie’s a smelly old goat!”
The bird shrieks into my ears.
“Natalie’s a smelly old goat!”
I slam the bird down, and run outside
crying, howling, and sniffling snot.
Gaze at the white sparkly snow on the ground.
Sparkly it is. Blinding, too.
The sun illuminates everything.
Wipe the snow from your eye, and chuckle.
You were but five years old.
Inhale the coldness, enjoy the briskness.
Remember what you wished for?
“I wished for my older brother and sisters
to respect me, even though I’m the youngest.”
You didn’t get your wish. No.
Crying out in the cold, you were mad.
I’m not spoiled because I’m the youngest!
Just think, the youngest child often has to
stay behind, while the others leave the nest.
The youngest has to take care, clean up.
The youngest has to be the “good one.”
I can’t make any mistakes, because they
already made them all! No room for me.
And they get to leave before me, and I’ll be
All alone in this house. Rooms will be empty…
Empty rooms. The house is very empty.
Mom and Dad and I are best friends now.
We enjoy each others’ company.
The house seems full, despite four empty bedrooms.
Four siblings all grown up and married.
And I am the only one left.
I will be the only one left!
I turn and charge into the house.
I want to enjoy the time I do have
with my older brother and sisters!
I target Ricky first, because he’s the oldest.
I bleat loudly and head butt his rear.
First he’s shocked at my tear stained face,
but then he laughs with the rest, and we
wrestle on the floor, one happy family.
The parrot lies forgotten, yelling
“Natalie’s a smelly old goat!”
Today is December 17, 1994,
And it’s the best birthday I’ve ever had.

Everything is Illuminated

I forgot all about this movie: During a travel meet in San Diego, I ran across this on the TV in the hotel. Everyone else was napping for five hours, so I watched it quietly. I wanted to learn more, and the book sounds much better than the movie was. But the movie was also done pretty well. I think I liked it more than I should have because it deals with the past, specifically WWII. I've always been fascinated by stories of the Holocaust, about recovering the histories of the people who suffered.

The plot of the movie as described by imdb.com

"A young Jewish American flies to the Ukraine in search of his grandfather's past. He has a photograph and the name of a village. He hires the Odessa Heritage Tours, made up of a gruff old man and his English-speaking grandson. The three, plus grandfather's deranged dog, travel in an old car from Odessa into Ukraine's heart. Jonathan, the American, is a collector, putting things he finds into small plastic bags, so he will remember. Alex, the interpreter, is an archetypal wild and crazy guy. Alex asks the old man, "Was there anti-Semitism in the Ukraine before the war?" Will they find the village? The past illuminates everything."

I love the way it's filmed, the visuals are stunning. There's a perfect balance of humor and seriousness. I wouldn't recommend watching it with young ones, though. Can't remember perfectly, but there's a couple of scenes (or comments?) that just weren't necessary.

(This is one of my favorite scenes from the movie, they have stopped at a hotel for the night. Of course, there's some stereotypes, but I thought it amusing that if you don't eat meat, that means there's something seriously wrong with you. I think the first two minutes are plenty.)





An amusing quote:

"Make sure to secure the door when I am gone. There are many dangerous people who wanna take things from Americans, and also kidnap them. Good night! " (Alex to Jonathan (the American) after showing him his hotel room.)

So if one night you are extremely bored, go ahead and check this out in the library.

But I look forward to watching "A Man For All Seasons" someday. I heard it's really good from a lot of people I respect. :)

MRI

As most of you well know, I've been having problems with my left shoulder for the past year and a half. My coach wants me to get surgery asap right after NCAA's (if I make it that far). So a couple of Fridays (Jan 30th) ago, I had an MRI. Very interesting experience. I discovered that MRIs are both underrated and overrated. I got some dye injected into my shoulder to add some contrast so tears would show up better if there were any. The doctor had me lie down on a bed, and put an x-ray machine over, that displayed my bones then and there live! She had a metal rod, and was moving it around my shoulder, looking for the best entrance for a needle to get straight to the joint. After picking a spot, she put a bunch of sanitizing gunk on my shoulder that turned it yellowish-rust. Then injected some stuff into my shoulder.

Then I proceeded to the MRI itself. I had to take out my hearing aids, since they have metal in them, and I was putting my body into a big white magnetic coffin. Having to hold perfectly still for 20 minutes wasn't that hard, since I had no room to move. The ceiling of the coffin was about two inches from my face, so I'm pretty sure I was cross-eyed when my eyes were open. (About 90% I just rested my eyelids.)

After getting all that done, I waited impatiently Monday for results. The doctor was out til Thursday!

I finally got my results on Friday (the 6th), I expected to hear that they found nothing. That's what happened to a few swimmers, but when they scoped, they actually found something. With me, however, they found a labral tear. I don't know how little or big it is, etc., I'm hoping to get the MRI images from my doctor so I can take a peek myself. Or at least get a meeting with my doctor so we know what's going on, and exactly what he thinks.

The most relieving thing about all this? Now I know it's not mental. Sometimes I was convinced it was.

Turning into a...geek? Nerd? What's the difference?

Okay, maybe I was already a nerd.

But for my math class, we had to buy software for our computer called Maple, officially called Maplesoft, but everyone calls it maple.

It is a fun program to play with! It can integrate, differentiate, solve, graph, plot, draw slope lines, etc. for any equation you can think of! (Well, most of them.) And I find myself starting to play with it in my free time instead of watching TV or playing games. (Not that I get much free time...)

Yay for being a nerd!!

We all had longer hair once

I swear mom and dad haven't aged a day.

Okay, Megan, I apologize for teasing you in the last two posts that involve pictures. These are beautiful. I hope that makes you feel better.

Cold sores!

Megan seems to always have cold sores in a lot of pictures we have. Mom says that megan used to complain she got them because mom would kiss her when mom had a cold sores...

Interesting.

I'm stuck at the Union because there is a 70 minute break between my math and physics class. So I take that time to eat here, then use the computer for a bit. I was playing around, and found a site that analyzes your responses to questions to see which major would suit you best.

Mine was a tie between two things:

engineering and english.

Hmm....is there a way to combine the two?

Any suggestions for poem #2?

Background info: we had to pick two of our favorite objects/subjects, and write as many words as we could about them, describing them, how they make us feel, etc. Then we were told to write a poem about the two objects, but we weren't allowed to use ANY of the words we just wrote down. Dang. Here's the rough draft, tell me what you think if you'd like. :)



Unable to read the faded parchment,
horrible, disjointed noise fills the ear.
Fat little balls of plumage cower
in the shadows, listening.
I tediously pound the bones
as strings break, wood splinters.
The golden eyes blink
as I feel the poem come
to life through the beast.
Sharp bills chatter uneasily.
Images erupt deep within—
Gradually the orbs with the
cracked claws emerge,
Swaying steadily to hideous vibrations.
I do not mind the monster
nor the relics of raptors with
scarlet ornaments on their heads.
I keep pounding the keys because
we all know we are
magnificent.

Old Pictures are Awesome!!!

Emily and Rick often reminds us of Poppy and Oscar.
Stupid wasps. Poor Oscar.

Remember Happy?

Megan and Rick

Dad and...Lucky?

Dad's lovely bus pass when he was in Sweden.

Probably just got off work. Poor girl.

Never seen her make a face!!

Dad's "girly" legs

Waiting for Rick to come home from his mission. I sure look happy, eh?

Family picture

I feel Oscar often pulls this (Rick's) pose for the camera. Wonder where he got it from?

Mom's outfit for the Iceberg!