Numbers

will be the death of me. Why did I pick a math-heavy major???
I can do letters, I can write about whatever topic you'd like me to.  My analytic brain can deal with that no problem.
Numbers? Only after a very long and arduous fight with them do they line up and make sense. I have to coerce them into cooperating, and still they go begrudgingly.
Add greek or latin letters? Alpha, Beta, Sigma, Chi, Psi, Delta, Gamma.

Fantastic, I'm thrilled about this. They conspire against me, stay up nights plotting my demise.

Who's Rules?

 Remember when we were kids and right in the middle of a game someone would say,

"Hey guys, New Rule: No hiding in the swamp during Cops n' Robbers."

And most likely there'd be some grumbling in the ranks, but more-or-less the New Rule would be accepted into play?

Well, who's making the rules up now?

And do we grumble and accept them? Or refute them with every ounce we've got?

What the Hell people??

It seems that everyday I get on facebook, there's someone else I knew in high school that is either

a) married

b) has a kid

c) both.
The count is dangerously high these days.

When did this happen?? It may be just that because I don't want kids I'm hypersensitive to people my age (and younger) with them. I want to know why they aren't doing something with their life. It is here, I'm sure, that they would argue that they are doing something with their life, and it happens to be make-a-family. But seriously, why are you not in school? or if you can't afford it, why are you not working? I can barely afford it, but I work two jobs and take as many credits as I can to get my money's worth.

This is the sad story of what happens if you don't get out of town as soon as you physically can. You spiral downwards into hick-dom. You start wearing Carharts (ugh), and dating other Carhart-wearing-wannabe-badasses (double ugh), and driving lifted mudding trucks everywhere. Then as the factors converge, you begin to talk 'valley'. You start talking about hunting/guns/dogs/trucks/chicks. Once you fall in deeper, you start spouting conservative fundamentalist christian crap that you're being force fed from all directions.

So a message to anyone at Mt. Si:  Strike for glory, reach for the stars, buck all the stereotypes.You  deserve better than to be trapped in that hell-hole of conservatism. Be your own person, instead of what Mt. Si says is cool.

You can do it. I believe in you.

Edit: I mean this in no way to be offensive to anyone in the valley who has no way out. This is entirely my opinion and is not to be taken personally in any sense. I am merely suggesting that there are bigger and better things to behold in the world and that maybe getting out there and seeing them might be a good idea. If you still feel the need to go back to the valley after that, well, the choice is yours and I won't judge you for it. 

Among the things I dearly love...

• are conversations about sexuality. The person could be anything, and I'd love to talk to them about it. Its just one of those things that interest me. I'm not going to tell you where I fall on the spectrum, not because it isn't important, but because I think knowing the person first is more important. Too many snap decisions are made on the basis of gender and sexuality.There's a school of thought based off the Kinsey scale (a continuum from 1 to 6, with 1 being completely heterosexual and 6 being completely homosexual) that says that no one is completely one or the other, and that everyone falls somewhere in the decimal points of obscurity somewhere between 1.1 and 5.9. Talking to people has only served to further solidify this argument.
  

• also on the list falls conversations about personal things when you know the person listening is genuinely interested in what you are saying. It is not often that this happens, but when it does, it's incredible. Its when all other obligations are set aside and the flow of the conversation is just natural; nothing is forced. Its a beautiful thing.

• Tea. Just throwin' that out there.
  

Houses, Mountains, and a Pool

So  we (next year's roommates) walked around a large portion of the student housing districts of Bellingham (High and Garden Streets, the York district and the Historic district) on saturday. It was, for the most part, lovely. We found some lovely houses and are beginning the housing hunt. It's all very exciting! I also made a hot fudge cake, which was very tasty, and if you want the recipe for it, let me know. It was very(!) well received by all members of the house.

In fact, I believe they ate it all.

On Sunday, I went to Mt. Baker to coach the race team, like I do every week. It was snowing and windy, but lots of fun. We ran GS and Slalom courses and the kids did very well, even if the ruts were gigantic and offered to eat them. But we skied hard and today I'm sore... but the good kind of sore that says it won't hurt so much next time. Also skied several top-to-bottom-ers down mogul fields, so that probably figures heavily into why I hurt today. Will someone please explain to me why(?!) female snowboarders feel the need to wear not enough clothes?? It's a freakin' blizzard out there and they seem to think that snowpants and a tank top is enough. ai yi yi. Its girls like you who give female skiers/snowboards a bad rap.

Thanks, love you too.

Today after class I went and swam laps, which felt heavenly. It was just one of those days where hitting the wall with a big flipturn feels wonderful. Butterfly is a tad rusty, but its coming back to where it was. And I had a lovely lane-sharer.  Now hopefully I won't embarrass myself quite as badly on Wednesday when I do a skillscheck at the pool. At least not quite as much.

Right?

More and more I find myself wishing that I have my bike with me, so I'm going to get it when I go back to my parent's house next. Its a big huge mens mountain bike, but I love it. I'm pretty sure it climbs trees when I'm not around. There are a ton of shallow, broadly treaded stairs on campus, so I'm going to try to ride down them on my bike. It will either be a roaring success or a hilarious failure. Its not going to fit in with all the road bikes around campus, but how many of their bikes can do singletrack, I ask you.

Yeah, that's what I thought. Not many.

Dancing to a Different Drummer

I'm working on a new little choreography piece to a new lesser-known song, Bad Romance by Lady Gaga
It's coming along beautifully. We've nearly got the opening sequence, the first verse, and the chorus done. Its in 4/4 time, but its got these beautiful syncopation opportunities for beats in threes. Which makes it so much fun to work with. And so... sexy.
Also played a little bodhran today, though not as much as I would have liked. Maybe tomorrow or this weekend I will have time for more.  Its a great stress release, and it forces me to actually use the brain cells for things other than school.

I learned a little about myself today. I learned that I'm not the same person who was angry for most of high school, or the person who felt the need to kick ass and take names to make a place for myself in the world. This me is much happier. Oh, don't worry, should the bitch in me need to come out, she will. But she won't do it unless its absolutely necessary. I've learned that there's a difference between quick-witted and assertive. And that you don't need to be aggressive about everything. I learned that some days you just need to step back, say "Ok day, you win" and be humbled by it. The world is a lot bigger than you. You don't need to prove yourself to the world; whether or not people like you is their business, not yours. I also learned that I need to live my life according to my agenda, and I get to dictate who I want in it. At the same time though, I need to not focus on me. When I just let life flow around me, it always works out better than if I had tried to mold its unwilling shape into something new.

Its when you aren't looking for it, that opportunity knocks.

If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.- Henry David Thoreau

Terminology

So during a "blinding flash of productivity" today—several errands accomplished at mach speeds (sorry physics prof, I meant velocity)— my cohort in crime and I discussed the reasons why we are are not fans of the terms boyfriend/girlfriend as forms of identification when introducing aforementioned partner to a third party for whom the information that we are dating is not imperative to their existence at the moment. We are adults now, so don't we get a new adult-like term to describe our status? The current one is so, I don't know, high school. We aren't boys and girls anymore, we're men and women. But manfriend and womanfriend sounds funny. But, as my novio* brought up, introducing them as your girlfriend is like saying Mrs. John Doe, or implying that the only salient feature of their personality is that they happen to be dating you.

In light of this, we're trying out new terms. It's difficult, though, to come up with terms that don't have some form of inherent superiority implied by them. Accomplice is nice, so are cohort and co-conspirator.

On a personal note, I feel like crap due to medication dosage malfunctions, and have a gigantic
cup of tea. Hopefully this will help!

* novio: spanish for boyfriend. I suppose just saying it in another language doesn't change the implications of the word though, does it?

The City Sleeps

I've always enjoyed walks at night. Unfortunatly, in the small town in which I grew up, doing so is likely to get you a) shot by the neighbors or b) eaten by a cougar/bear/elk/four-legged toothy beast. So a lot of room for error, is what I'm saying. But I do very much enjoy them, especially with the right people. I always feel compelled to discuss the meaning of the cosmos, or some other heady subject like my deepest secrets.

Or whatever.

But I did go for a lovely walk this evening with my boyfriend, which was very enjoyable and entirely too short. But as both of us must get up at 6 tomorrow (ugh), the night had to be cut prematurely short. However, we are meeting for an early breakfast tomorrow, which is almost as lovely. I also have fantastic french-press locally-roasted coffee, so that will be tasty. I also have some lovely bagels and neufchatel* cheese, which is somewhat akin to God for us lactose-intolerant people.

Also this evening was an Open Mic night at the local underground coffee house, so I went and listened to:

• Terrible Original Guitar
• Pretty Good Original Guitar
• A Duo of Flat-picked Guitar and Vocals, accompanied by a steel saw and aptly named "The Something Sisters" --I kid thee not
• Terrible Covers of Two Already Terrible Songs on Guitar
• A Truly Horrendous comedian whose intro song was better than his act
• Stellar Bluegrass Mandolin
• An Amazing Cover of "Fingerdance" by Billy Maclaughlin

After a Nasty Battle with numbers (math and physics homework) I think I will hit the sack early. I'm tired, and tomorrow promises to be arduously long.

*spelling is most likely wrong.

Emotions of a Two-Headed Gorgon

Today is one of those days in which nothing actually goes wrong, but you feel like shit anyways. It may have something to do, I fear, with which house the moon might be in at any given moment.

Right, because that bullshit respectable science determines your future.

So silly of me to forget.

At any rate, the emotional roller coaster has been in full swing, if you'll pardon the pun. Now, its important to note that I fall into the rather stoic end of the spectrum, so this sort of wanton female behavior is unwelcome here. Keep your whining to yourself; no one wants to see that.

I also noticed that I walk, when alone, extremely fast across campus. Its not that I'm insecure, or feel vulnerable, or anything of that nature, I'm just walking to a beat. As a drummer, this is normal. Hopefully, this will actually transpose into my playing so I don't make of fool of myself quite as often.

I have a pain...

despite the best efforts of the boyfriend to banish the knots that plague my neck.
I did, after all ski moguls hard yesterday. So i'm sore all over.

But I did spent the day pleasantly, if unproductively. Black coffee, the lifeblood of the student, a  toasted bagel with a slight hint of homemade strawberry jelly started off a late, windy morning. We awoke to a roommate gift of decor: he had hung dried, pressed leaves from the ceiling surrounding the chandelier. Suddenly the 1970s wallpaper (gold and peach leaves) didn't seem so dreary.

Grocery -and more coffee- gathering from the local Food Co-op rounded out the morning, after which we made our way upwind towards home. From here it's decidedly less interesting, though decidedly more studious.

I'm reading a book for class on gender norms which, though chewy reading, is very interesting. As a person that doesn't fall easily (read rejects) into masculine/feminine categories, it makes for very pertinent reading.

Rock on, my androgynous siblings.

Though a bit cantankerous now (tired, lots of stuff to do tomorrow) I've had a good day. Tomorrow brings classes again, and homework, though I may go swim laps to take the edge off the stress.

To Begin...

I expect that this blog will work better than the last, sadly neglected one.

I intend for this to be an analytical exploration of

my day

the people in it

and the events that occur.

Hopefully, unlike most of the busywork assigned me, some great epiphany shall result from this.

One can dream, right?