Got my grades back.
I’m quietly having a nervous breakdown.
Tag: Aquinas
Here is the email from my Theology professor
I’m not sure what to say.
Good Morning, Mlle Rabey,
Here are the grades:
Final exam grade was 88.
Research Paper grade was 75.
Final grade for the course is 73.
Your final exam grade showed a significant improvement over the mid-term. That
mid-term exam is what killed you. Also, we need to work on your writing. There
is a lot of room for improvement in that department.
I hope the rest of your summer goes well.
Dr. M
It’s the End of the World as we know it…
I am tired as fuck.
My international biz class “work” comprised of 6 weekly assignments, a country paper, research paper and our debate, plus the exam which was take home. She wanted electronic copies of all of our work so I had burned her a cd with everything divided into neat little folders marking which each was. My presentation sucked last night but that had more to do with being tired than with not being prepared. The only ONLY thing I have left is my final which I started but never finished and it’s eight questions most of which the answers are in the book. A couple of people were not prepared to hand in their final papers last night (again, I was like the only one) and something that amused me was that the ditzy chick (also named lisa) who had been my partner ripped off most of my work for her presentation. Myself and one other girl were the only ones who had actual “hand outs” for our presentation so I knew I was going to do well in the grade department. Heh.
Came home last night, immediately changed into jammies and fell asleep on the couch watching BlackAdder II. Rowan Atkinson is so hot š Heh. I can’t wait for Johnny English to come out.
Woke up, climbed into bed and didn’t realise until I was snuggled in that I had NOT wrapped my tattoo and or put tattoo goo on it so now my arm is stiff with dryness. I’m not terribly worried about ink rejecting due to the dryness as I’m going in a month to have her finish the work and she’ll do touch ups then and I always heal really well even if I’m not up to par with the after-care as I should be.
Woke up at noon (so slept about 12 hours) and felt something crunchy under my legs. “My god!” i thought to myself, “I need to shave my legs, badly!” [I tend to shave everyday but have been slacking to cut time recently.] TUrned out to be dog food (??!?!?!) in my bed. Um, okay, not sure how to explain that one other than the dogs dragging it in bed with me since i was out like a light for 12 hours. Which is, amusing.
Today I’m heading out to get my hair done and then off to go pick up the tshirts for the family reunion for sunday. Have to buy an outfit for dinner tomorrow night dinner with mom and jeff and then it’s off to grab a portable cage for the dogs and then on to come home to finish the exam.
i’m telling you the fun never ends!
about last night…
Inspiration on how the paper should have been written came to me as I. was. driving. to. class. buh. hah.
Matt showed up at 3pm on the dot, we covered exam material (again) and I typed up his paper (at five bucks a page man!) I edited the shit out of his paper because he repeated himself with quotes galore, more than he needed need to. When I mean quotes I mean like a full TYPED page for a quote. Thanks to kethryvis, I learned the beauty of spacing, margins, fonts and leading. She is da bomb shiz.
Matt and I had planned on getting to AQ at about 5pm, hah! We left at 6pm and got to school with ten minutes to spare before exams.
I ROCKED that exam! I’m emailing Nazi prof on Monday to find out my exam grade. Wooo. The final essay question was in the form of a theological quote which essentially said what is deeper: the depth of spirit or the depth of god. I said depth of god. Re-reading what I wrote over before I turned it in, I sounded like I was xtian š® heh. Oh well.
I met the gang on the front stoop at school and we headed over to Bombay Cusine for fud. mmmmm. Got mine spicey level of 9 out of 10 and the chefs went to town. Had to add a little yogurt sauce there, you know, I am a white girl after all. Will go with an 8 next time. Though I have left overs in the fridge. mmmm.
Sucked down a few black and tans and Paul and I were the only ones who wanted to go to Mulligans for after dinner drinks and pool, everyone else was “i’m tired.” etc. His wife I wanted to beat with a platform flipflop. She got all preachy about how I was an atheist (which is NOT true) and she is one of those people who get penny pinching about dinner bills. I kept stealing glances at Matt during dinner because I don’t get it! She was so fundie and everything Paul liked, she didn’t. And the whole penny pinching at the dinner table really irked me well. I had thrown in the 40 bucks matt gave me for typing his paper to pay for my share. I had no idea what my share was but then Amy brought out a checkboo! Ugh, it was terrible.
As we walked outside, Matt stole up to me and said if we were going to ask Paul out again, and I doubt that we will. The wifey made it clear that she is not having him have female friends. Very clear. Ugh, whatever sister. Amy wanted me to call her for drinks (so what, that you can bring your checkbook??) and Matt and I are already going out this week.
Then I nearly got into a car crash as some hippie fucker pulled out in front of me, running a red light. Cheeky monkey. Came home, played Animal Crossing for a few hours, to unwind and now it’s back to the grind as I finish my week o’hell out.
I was in bed by midnight, which is RARE!
St. Lisa: Patron saint of tattoos, piercings, fags and married men
My brain hurts.
My theology group has just broken up, with Paul leaving last at 9pm. He and Matt showed up at 1pm and we have been studying our brains out. Carded Islam and went through the stack of evil. I’m pretty well versed in Buddhism, Islam and Judaism. I find irony that Charlotte is converting to Judaism in “Sex and the City” so I giggle when I watch. The paper is not done yet, but it’s getting there. Part of the issue is not so much of what I want to say, rather, that the theology professor is an anal gland needing to be expressed [I had to express both dogs anal glands yesterday as I gave them a bath and then proceeded to brush their teeth. hah]. Type type type, cut, paste remove and edit. Three pages and I need four more before I’m done. Five resources and I have 12 books sitting on my table. I’m digging the pressure and the challenge and while yes the professor is a dick i know this is good for me. I’m no clearer to understanding my own belief system when I started this class 8 weeks ago and I have no idea where I lie in spirtuality. I’m digging Judaism though for some reason and maybe because it makes the most sense. Jews for Jesus I do not get but that is neither here nor there, because they are essentially Xtians. Buddhism I understand but stating that the three eyes of Maru (annatta, dukka and anica) represent greed, delusion and hatred and that this is the three Buddhist realities bothers me. Paul said Muhammad was a ” good old boy and long haul trucker” as he worked the caravans with Khadija. I also laughed when Matt said the process of cleansing that Muslims do before their Salat was exfoiliation! I can discourse on the difference between Genesis 1 and 2, Shiite and Sunni Muslims and can cite the paths of different sects of Judaism and why and how they were created.
If I don’t get an A on the exam, i’m gonna kill myself.
I’ve been enjoying hanging out with Matt and Paul. Yesterday we were supposed to meet Paul at the AQ library at noon only to find it had been closed for the holiday weekend. Matt and I ended up the new downtown library which is fucking sexy i tell you! Paul met up with us later bringing his wife and she was different then I had expected. I can’t explain it, she was short and super chubby with a really cute face.
This Paul reminds me of my Paul (height/weight), but 50x cuter and much more stylish dress. Plus he drives. he is also married. I’m not sexually attracted to him, but he is attractive (even Matt the local fag agrees). Paul and I used to run around in similiar circles back in the day since we are the same age and I apparently went to Immaculate Heart of Mary the same time as his wife. Paul and I have discoursed on everything from music to movies to philosophy and religion. But here lie in the problem, he is married. While it is more acceptable, I think, to be friends with the opposite sex then say 10 years ago, yet that old level of insecurity drives the gfs/fiances/wives to split budding platonic relationships. Plus he’s a Coach addict (as Matt and I were drooling over a pair of cute Coach shoes we saw at the mall ) and he’s travelled Europe extensively. I told you, we talk A LOT during these get togethers.
Matt is 5’6 and 106lbs and incredibly adorable and sardonic. he is also flaming. Saturday we went makeup and shoe shopping and this friday we are going to a local hoity-toity salon to get our hair done together. He’s intelligent and also fun to be around.
Amy is the youngest person in our group and has lead an extremely sheltered life. Everything I do is “cool” but she doesn’t really participate in our studies (though she is getting the highest grades) and tends to be more of ooohing and awwing over my dogs then contributing. I like her, but I did not miss her these last few groups.
While I know Matt and I will continue to be friends and he will probably prod me on the road to being more of a woman (har har), I will miss the conversations I have with Paul and his company. Paul has the same dump of useless knowledge of brain power that I have and it’s funny how we both say the same descriptions about the same things. Oh yah, he’s a henry rollins fan and a bukowski nut.
I love my married men friends, don’t get me wrong. I adore Aaron and his lovely wife Kara is da bomb shiz! But i’m tired of being “the one who is cool to be friends with and not the one to date/marry”. This has long been the pattern in my life and while I have publically admitted and still admit that I find most women to be catty bitches, I’m tired of being pushed to the side.
When Matt and I were at the MAC counter yesterday, I had the MAC girl do my eyemakeup. I had really liked what Matt had done to his eyes that day and I wanted to emmulate that. When she finished and I turned to look into huge mirror. I didn’t like what I saw. Hanging out with Matt recently, I realised I had lost my sense of feminity and that bothered me, a lot.
As I told my boys today, I feel like I’m straddling two worlds. One world where I want to be this glamour nut who covets Coach and coutre and the other one who straddles the more edgy-alternative side with the tatoos and piercings. I feel like a walking contradiction as I try and bring these two worlds together.
That mirror told the saddest truth I think. I had spent the great part of these last seven months with all these internal debates about who I am and what I represented that I had let my body slide and that frigthened me. While one side clamours that I want someone to love me for the inside another part is conflicted that true beauty is not only within but also out. Again, it’s the contradiction or more of the confliction of the two sides. I had become, in my eyes, this slovenly person that I detested.
Paul told me what I had thought to myself privately, that his wife was asking who was in the study groups and what were they like. She kept saying “you’re the only guy?” (discounting that Matt was gay). when Matt left at 3 or 4pm, Paul failed to tell her that he was here with me alone when he called her to see what was going on. I asked him if had friends that were girls, but he said he used to but being married changed all that. I’m getting the feeling that I will not be seeing him after tomorrow night when we all do dinner after the exam. I’m not surprised, only sad.
Human relationships have always bothered me, namely that these interactions and rules that everyone must “know” in order to play. The rules keep changing as they are added or deleted to conform to the here and now. I just want to strip that away and show rawness and say “hey, look, this is how it is” but it’s never like that. Ever. I don’t feel like I’m even truthful in my own journal these days because someone might get pissed at what I say in regards to something that I’m recollecting. I’m tired of the facades and the walls that we build up and the games we play.
We are this social clucking order and must abide by societal rules and if we don’t, we are fucked. Discussions with Matt proved this theory when we discoursed on the social and relationship lives of gay men. He said it’s rare to see gays in committed monogmous relationships and since he came out in 1996, he’s always known that he will probably end up alone. He said this fear is often perpetuated in the gay community and yet gay men are the ones that are more often then not into more casual relationships than committed ones. From what I’ve seen and of what I k now about the gay community, I saw that he was partially right.
I feel like a gay man trapped in a woman’s body.
Time to go wax my eyebrows.
at the airport
One of the great things about being a geek is the capability of having technology with you on the go. However if I was more of a geek, Iād be sitting here on wireless dialup account instead of, well, not.
The Grand Rapids International airport (GRR) is strange in many ways. First off, the security measures here surpass those of even Dulles (IAD) in Washington. My brother had said to me when he was flying out of GRR to IAD to come visit me last summer about the trials and tribulations he had to go through with security when he was waiting for his flight. I didnāt believe him. How could I? For a metro area of several hundred thousand people, many donāt seem to leave, and it would seem difficult to comprehend the idea that the security at GRR would surpass that of IAD.
I feel more and more out of place when I talk about my travels when in my own mind, I do not do more than go where I want. In my own eyes, the world is so large and Iāve seen so little, itās hard to distinguish from what is “well traveled” to what is not. I guess it does sound a bit exotic to say Iāve lived in San Francisco, Washington DC, and Toronto and then come back here to good old GRap as the locals call it. Why would I want to come back?
There was a girl I had worked with at the cawfee shop who had said that her world consisted of Kent County and that was it. She had no desire to travel beyond her ābubbleā as she called it. She wanted to get married, have babies, and be a mommy. She was all of 18. She had no desire to see the world or explore outside of her bubble. There are those I know who have traveled outside their boundaries physically and could not comprehend what they saw. I mean that here they are, traveling around the state, country or internationally, and disliked it.
Personally, I donāt know what it is. Is it the restlessness that I feel? Which I automatically think that is really screaming of my own lack of commitment. Can I feel comfortable to one day settle down in one place and be happy or even just content? It is difficult for me to say. The Geography of Michigan class that Iām taking currently shows just how diverse Michigan is, at least from a geographical point of view. There is so much to see and do here (as shocking as that may be when taking into heart my thoughts on Michigan and the Midwest in general), that I feel overwhelmed. I havenāt even been any farther than Traverse City and have yet been to the Upper Peninsula, and for being a “local,” to me that is disgraceful.
Because my trip plans for Europe have fallen through, I had been thinking of renting a cottage up in the UP for a week. Just me. The dogs. My laptop and pray-fully, no internet connection. I have found that the more I live alone, the more I like it. Iām more of private person and now I wonder if I will ever really be happy being with someone in a relationship. I think about that part quite a bit, that my own happiness is coming from within, but yet even at that stage, I would never feel comfortable being with someone else. Things like having a family do equate into this, but I do not ever really see someone else as being by side. Iāve honestly thought that if I was not married or in a committed relationship by the time, I was 35, I would end up having IVF kids. Keth and I joke about that now, but the more I look at it, the more I realize just how much of the truth it may be. Iām not scared of this idea, I guess Iāve always thought that it would be better to raise a child alone than in a relationship where it was abusive, and the issue is that itās becoming clear with my own relationship choices that abuse is all I know. That is not to say that all the relationships Iāve been were abusive, but it all goes back to Alan and when I had for a brief moment in time the āperfectā relationship in my eyes only to have it blown up in my face ā all because he had cheated on me.
Danny says I carry extra guilt left over from my Catholic upbringing, and Iām not quite sure that is true. I can see why he would think that but Iām tired of feeling like I have these rigid set of morals and ideas only to find the world shifts too much into the grey pattern area. Most of it conflicting. Like I do consider emotional cheating to be cheating. I cannot abide by the fact that if you are in a relationship that you would have the audacity of wanting to be with someone else. Oh, I know itās human relations to look and admire attractive people, thatās fine, but when it becomes something else and ends up being more than a fantasy, then it becomes dangerous. Why get married or be with someone if you donāt, truthfully, want to be with them? Thatās never made sense to me and those who know me the best would know the agony I went through prior the separation with Paul. It made me numb. I felt nothing other than I did not want to be here and I had to leave and I could never communicate to those just how difficult it was TO leave. The one thing I did resent was the common ideology that if you are not happy, then just leave, that I could pick up and go and no one seemed to take into account that they only knew my side of the story or even better, they knew only what I would tell them. They did not walk in my shoes and they did not seem to understand when I tried to make the situation clear.
I have this sinking suspicion Iāll always be a solitary person, and that discovery has hurt more than anything else. Not that being solitary is bad, but simply that not having someone by my side would hurt. Iāve dreamed of being with someone, this ābeingā if you will, that would compliment me as I would compliment them. True wuv. So now, I wonder if I feel disillusioned simply because of past experiences or what the deal is. Hope is there, itās a small flame, and itās becoming smaller. In the end, Iām tired of a society that is cruel and malicious and I just wish people were nicer to each other, but that wish doesnāt seem to want to work out.
Keth says, maybe Iām looking too hard? She said to me when I was lamenting about this to her fairly recently and I can see why she would say that. If youāve searched for “something” for over 30 years, itās very easy to get discouraged but itās difficult to keep up hope. Itās difficult to feel that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I know there are many difficulties that I have sustained in my life that have bucked the system. Iāve left high school and went back and got my GED. I went to college, only to leave and come back many years later. Things that professionals say are the hardest to do, Iāve done. Yet I feel no satisfaction from these accomplishments.
($Deity save me from ignorant people. Please. A girl in my Geography of Michigan class asked if we had to know the bedrock type. Hello. Geography. Pay ATTENTION! Another woman compared the term āoutwashā (the left over silt from glacier movement) to the leftover drippings of Guinness. I didnāt know whether to laugh or cry.)
collegiate life
You’d think, that with the big to-do about going back to college, I’d write about it. But not one peep has passed these lips in written form since i went back. I don’t know why that is. I found a strange currency within me, the more things that are private, the less i’m apt to write about them. I also found that the more I care about someone, the less I’m to approach them in conflict about a disagreement.
But that is neither here nor there.
This past semester was my fuck-up semester. I allowed myself to work at my own pace and see what happens. I got an A and three Bs, which I was thankful for but I learned if I applied myself, I did well. When I was slack ass, I did above average.
talk dirty to me
I should be writing my midterm, which is half-finished and due tomorrow.
I should be doing a lot of things, but i’m not. heh.
Alright, so I’m checking email for the fiftieth time today and I get the following spam:
“I would never have believed that my husband of 4 years would cheat on me.
And he didn’t even tell me – I saw his email was full of messages from girls at XXXDate.com who wanted to fuck him! He had a whole folder full of email from women who had already gone to bed with him and had the nerve to thank him for a great time!
These girls sound like total sluts who will fuck anything with a dick. My husband isn’t even good looking he’s overweight and losing his hair and still these girls are all over him.
XXXdate has turned his life into one big sex-capade and I’m mad as hell! So I joined XXXdate just to show him I can fuck more than he can!”
And I’m sitting there kind of dumbstruck. Not that it’s spam but it’s just, the content. I am no prude, by any stretch of the imagination, but I think it’s the current climate of women that are sort of bugging me? I can’t really explain it, it’s like, I’ve never really found it difficult to get a man (yes, i know you’ve heard me bitch about getting laid etc but let me finish here) but it’s the QUALITY of MEN i’m looking at discussing.
Keth and I had this conversation the other night when she called me to tell me she got accepted to UCSC and we ended up chatting for a few hours. The conversation kind rounded around men and our current lack thereof. Now, me personally, I do have crushes on people and some I would say were not crushes and probably some sort of “liking” going on (haha, this is so jr high) but, the crushes cannot be realised (you know, I TALK about henry rollins being my third husband but you know he isn’t going to be — really. maybe.)