Confessions from a Broken Moment

Excerpt from my journal 4/27/06
Words are forever. Words do not care who you are, where you are from, what you did, words do not change. I said it, I felt it, I meant it, and I cannot change it. I live a sheltered existence, surrounded by a shell of my own creating. My wants, my fears, my needs, and my easily damaged self hide waiting inside. I can block out others, but how do I block out myself? I was mortified, in a moment everything I understood was changed. I felt the carpet jerk but had no time to prepare for the floor’s strong catch. I sat there, stunned. The alarms sounded inside, “Save yourself! Run!” and I obeyed. I could not answer you, I could not answer myself. Thousands of thoughts and questions raced through my mind in that moment between your paragraph and your question. I racked my brain for anything to say, anything to respond, anything to save my pride or make me less vulnerable, and nothing came. I went to bed unsure of myself, I woke up angry. A hundred moments, all came back when I opened my eyes from bleary sleep. I laid there unsure of the feeling that was rising in me. I spent the day trying not to focus on my anger, but the silent rage of the Monday weather spurred my inner storm. How would I say it, how would I explain, how would I finally tell you how hurt and angry I was. My pride all of it shattered to the floor, unswept, cut me with each memory of you. I tried to silence the memories, to think of anything else, but all I could do was think of all the chances you had to recant, to tell me how you really felt. I sat on the porch while the weather pounded Tulsa and watched the calm turn into a violent storm, and I raged with it. I sit here now unsure of how to tell you what I am feeling, how your friendship means the world to me, but how I feel as if I’m wandering with you. I do not know what to say, how to say it, or how to ask. I tried tonight in vain attempt to say something, to ask, to tell, to speak of the unspeakable moment. It has created some odd rift between us. Still in random moments I remember something of you and me and fume silently, I was angry with myself at first, thinking what a mistake I must have made. Surely I had assumed too much, I misunderstood you, mistook what you said and what a fool I was, but it was not me was it? I was blatantly open, so completely vulnerable, and so bare. You had to know how I felt; I said it a hundred times. In my words, in my actions, in everything and I would have been fine at no, fine with not what I want had you said it. Why did you not say it? I am not okay, I’m wandering lost, but I will be. I had no way to say it to you, I care too much to stare at your silence and wait for your response. I miss you, and I won’t lie about it. I do not expect answers, and I understand if you never give them. I do not expect to discuss it, or even acknowledge it. I do not expect you to feel the same as me or want the same things that I do. I’ve been here before, at least once before. He is now my best friend, and I am certain we too will overcome if we try. I will be distant for awhile, lost in myself. I will be closed off and hard to talk to. I will protect myself from you, but things will soften, they always do. The real question is if you are willing to wait? Does my friendship mean that much? To finally answer your question from that night, yes.

Yonked

Yonked from Cindy

You Should Be a Joke Writer

-You're totally hilarious, and you can find the humor in any situation. -Whether you're spouting off zingers, comebacks, or jokes about life... -You usually can keep a crowd laughing, and you have plenty of material. -You have the makings of a great comedian - or comedic writer.

What Type of Writer Should You Be?

Computer Lab this is Meg, how can I help you?

Yesterday was complete and utter chaos and I loved every single second of it. After a semester of nothing, just me and my laptop spending every evening in a world physically alone, I finally have regained a sense of why I fill my life up to the top with things. I love it! I complain, whine, get frustrated, and poke fun at myself for it, but I need it. When I am going 90 to nothing with just me and the day of insanity ahead I feel like I’m going somewhere, getting something done. Lately I’ve been so bored, mentally and physically. I keep thinking that this is what broke me, the need for a million things going at once, but it feels so complete to be busy, to have a life. Yesterday I regained a piece of me that I left at the door in January and it is nice to have it back. I had a big meeting/party for work. Every semester all the computer assistants, their team leaders, and the lab manager gets together. We all bring a dish and do a potluck dinner. With all the international students working in the labs it’s an adventure for the palette. At the last event, my first, I was thrust into a leadership role, a semester later I have no trouble with it. I socialized with the other compy geeks and of course met some new people and touched base with some old friends. It was fun. After the eating we all went and signed up for fall shifts. Under my direction (yay power ;) ) my CA’s (compy asst) signed up and socialized. It went rather smoothly and I gained about two CA’s to my team. I’m excited for the fall now more than ever. No more 4 am shifts for me. Rather I’m working Monday through Friday from 7:30 to 11:30 and Tuesday from like 12:00 to 2ish. Just a tinge over the hours I need to pay bills. After all the CA’s left, it was just me, Steph (manager), and another team leader who I’ll call Bill. It was a lot of fun; we cleaned up, joked, talked about serious things like politics (oddly enough), and our future dating service for compy geeks everywhere. As Bill and I were discussing this serious stuff, like perception and what it means to be a “nice” person, he complimented me big time by telling me I was the nicest person he’d ever met. Considering this guy is like the ultimate guy (although he has no idea), handsome beyond reason, 4.0 GPA intelligent, super kind, well traveled, witty, well spoken, helpful, very well kept, and has an accent to die for, it was pretty special. Did I mention handsome? Needless to say I have a great time when he is around, he’s a pretty stellar guy, and the object of many a late night conversation between Steph and I. It was all a blast. I needed it more than I can say. This week is packed, my laptop may just feel a tad abandoned as today brings dinner and Lost with Clarkie, tomorrow I am going to a huge thing here on campus with Steph, Friday roomie and I are headed to a movie and then perhaps having a party at home. Overall I’m packed, I’m busy, and I’m finally free of the doldrums.

Release

The tornado siren is going round and round here. The trees are swaying in the wind while the clouds speed across the sky. I feel as if the world outside reflects the world inside of me. A storm has been brewing and is finally coming to fruition. Other than the rustle of the leaves and the siren it is eerily quiet out here. I am alone in sitting and watching the darkened sky. It measures up to a peaceful melancholy. The porch chimes are tinkling the warning that I should be inside. I can’t help but sit here and watch the weather grow more and more dire allowing the purity in the rage of nature to take me over. I was wrong to go against my instinct and listen to the sound of my mind. Perhaps that is the lesson I’ve learned, my gut has never failed me, thus making these past few months the calm before my storm, and just as the rain comes here so it comes inside me. It will cleanse me, water me, and wash away all that has created this moment. Under this downpour I can smell its freedom, I can taste its bitter release, and I can feel its calming cold. Tomorrow I will be new.

Unmistakable

*sigh*

The road to my own redemption...

The semester is almost over. Today is the official last day of normal classes, and Monday begins Dead Week. Classes become all about the finals and Profs are forbidden by the University to have assignments worth more than I believe 10% of the student’s grade due. Of course there are those Profs who have stuff due anyway, but overall next week is about decomp before finals. I cannot help but feel as if this semester for me was an utter failure, yet I’m contentedly trudging on toward the fall and redeeming myself. I have one credit hour, just one. I am happy to report that in that one hour course I am making a 99.9%. It is gratifying to make an A after the failure of a semester. I feel as if the deck was stacked against me for spring. When the semester started I was working insane hour’s everyday, and ran myself to exhaustion. On top of that things with my family progressed from horrid to rancid, I festered and lost sight of school. I found myself struggling to get out of bed for anything other than work, which I did only because of rent and food. I lost sight of a lot of things, including God. I found myself struggling with emotions I hadn’t faced in a long time. I sit here writing this on the verge of summer, ready and willing for this next step, but also apprehensive. Summer is a big change for me, nothing new, but still scary. I do know that there are things I’ve needed to abandon for now, for my sanity. Clarkie and I are at an impasse. I cannot ask him to give up being with his future wife, I cannot change him, and I cannot ask for less in a friendship than 100%. My parents and I seem only to communicate through grunts and the occasional short conversation about some major change in their lives. Other than that I am non-existent in their world (minus a few prayer lists I’m sure) and I attempt to move on in mine. God and I are also at an impasse. I have some major questions and no one to ask about them. My feuding with my parents has left me churchless and therefore without anyone to whom I can turn to answer my hard hitting questions. I’ve taken my skills from Ozark Christian to search the bible for my own answers, but I’ve come up with nothing. Not even my Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance that contains pretty much any subject or word you can imagine and verses that go with it has produced anything for me. Until these questions are answered I’m not sure where to go.
Through all of this I’ve finally faced myself this semester. I’ve woken up and crawled from a long sleep to look at myself in the mirror, and I did not like what I saw. I by no means am talking about my physical self but my inner self. I have since begun really journaling again and have started a search for myself within all the murk and mire inside me. With help I feel like I am finally on the right path to perhaps fixing a lot of things in my life that I’ve hidden from for a long time. I can’t change a lot of things going on right now, my family, my summer, God, or my semester; but I have hope for myself.
In all this craziness I have found something inside me I had forgotten about. I have found my will. There are a lot of things that have happened to me that are horrific and scary and unbearable right now, but there is a piece of me that is strong enough, and she is growing. I’m finally feeding and nourishing her. I’m not pretending any longer to be something I’m not. I’m tired of not saying what I want or doing what I want because it will make someone else unhappy just as I’m tired of living my life for others. I’ve found a lot of great things in my life in this hellacious year and I’m taking those things and my search for myself and I’m going for my own ride. If doing this makes me the black sheep of the family or unworthy in certain peoples eyes than I’m going to have to say goodbye, for once this is about me and my life. I can only say that I’m choosing not to waste it any longer.

Fine you choose...

When it comes down to it, I like to be picked first every once in awhile. So why do I always get put on the back burner?

Excerpt

I have no way to express my weekend, so instead I'm pulling an excerpt from a journal entry from the weekend.

4.14.06 Home for Easter
Today was surprisingly easy for me. I headed for Mtn. Grove around 4:30pm from Tulsa. I was glad to hit the road and finally be on my way, but I was nervous that this trip would be really hard for me not only emotionally but physically. The travel was quick and I enjoyed the blaring music and stretch of highway. There is something about that one moment when I cross the state border. I cannot help but smile as I see the End of Turnpike sign, for some reason the trees seem to explode into massive numbers in my mind. As if that very spot where the state border exists is also the very spot where the Ozarks come into being. I love the way the trees stretch for miles and miles, the curvy roads, the rocks ledges that sit on the sides of the road. It will sound odd, but even the smell and density of the air seems to change. I was able to watch the beautiful sunset about 25 miles from my hometown. I took pictures through the side mirror and when I couldn’t handle the brilliant colors through a little mirror any longer, I pulled over and took pictures of the sinking red sun. In the moment I stood there watching, a hundred things happened to me, a million tiny revelations, thousands of thoughts, and some beautiful moments, this Easter will be different, and I will keep it mine. If anything I’ve found this beauty, even in utter loss, total collapse, irrational fear, rabid anger, and extreme love. This sunset was for me, to keep me. I will hoard it, lock it up inside me, a fuel for when the weather just a few miles down the road may become more than my shoulders can carry and the sun is unable to shine through the clouds. I will have this moment, the wind blowing in my hair, leaning against the car, the sun retiring in a blaze of colorful glory, just for me.

From Exit to Exit...

Yesterday was odd to say the least, and now I face the early morning predawn of a Friday. I love this time of day, it’s as if the whole world is asleep waiting for the sun to bid it good morning, but a few of us know the secret of the stillness that only comes from the anticipation of the sun’s light. I find peace in the melancholy of these moments. Today begins my grand adventure home, I am glad to see my family, I have missed them. We are a quirky conglomeration of duck tape pieces stuck together by fate, held together by our own special kind of love. My mom and Herb were adopted, because my Gran was unable to have children, yet this family is as much my blood as my real dad who ignores my existence. Herb who is aprox. 27 years older than me loves to “inform” me of how my life should work, the weekend will be filled with our arguing about things as important as what I do with the rest of my life to the silliness of what temp. to bake the biscuits for breakfast. His wife will try to keep his temper at bay and Papa will just tell me that Herb is to hard headed and I shouldn’t try. It’s frustrating, but it is also 100% mine. I look forward to the car trip with my favorite music blaring from the speakers and the stretch of Ozark highway in front of me.
There are a lot of things I can be thankful for, and when I start to feel as if the world has it out for me, I attempt to remember them. I still can’t believe how blessed I’ve been with people; yesterday Steph (my manager) brought me dinner because I was going to miss it. I was working a couple of shifts for some of the CA’s who couldn’t be there. She also is really good about throwing out a great joke when I need to laugh. Then of course my Brett who encourages me, listens to me, and is willing to put up with everything that I am…good and bad. Of course I can’t leave out my sis who is definitely just the coolest teenager to ever walk the face of the planet and a great friend. My Papa who refuses to allow me to slip between the cracks, if I don’t call him he calls me, everyday we talk…and boy do I need him. Christy my ever patient, ever loving, ever there Tulsa roomie who happens to also be just the coolest adult to ever pay bills. Sara…who in her own way shows how much she cares for her other roomies, me and Christy. Mike and Cyndi who are a family to me even if I’m not “tech” apart of theirs…From Cyndi listening to me talk about the hardest things I’ve faced in my life to Mike giving me a hug and an ear, they are the best. My super amazing boss at the store who has become like another member to my family, she takes care of me and more than that cares about me. There are million pieces to my puzzle, a million oddly shaped pieces made up of colorful people with their own lives, problems, and identities, but when I place them all together and look at the whole puzzle they form the wonderful picture that is my life. I appreciate all of you, and I want to say a formal if not more than whispering thank you to Cindy. For all the moments I feel lost in hovering shadows my awesome God sends me someone or something to help me see that if not in this moment, someday I’ll be alright.
I won’t be posting until after my trip home. I hope everyone has a marvelous Easter, a few blessed moments with family, and a couple of colorful eggs hidden to enjoy the day.

I have to keep reminding myself, I am more than this moment. I am more than my grief. I hate Easter. I hate that for a week every year I turn into some odd emotional zombie who walks around trying not to feed off of negative energy. I hate how my Papa pretends he doesn’t hurt because she’s gone. I hate how Herbie acts like he can fix us all with his loud advice and temper tantrums. I hate how Gran can’t remember her anymore. I hate how I try to fix everyone but myself, going to the point of total exhaustion so I don’t think. Holidays mutated in my family after she died…especially this one. This year is it is on the very day…the very same day. I can see the day to the letter, the policeman at the door and the look on my Papa’s face, the way my Gran just stared at him crying in silence, and the way I ran away from the table to hide from the words. I remember the hour drive to the hospital going 55 miles an hour, where some man in pale blue scrubs who smelled like all those worms students dissect in Biology asked me if she had any birthmarks, scars, jewelry, or anything else to identify her by. I remember telling him about the tattoo of my name on her left ankle. The man giving me her purse and a Ziploc bag with her jewelry and knowing at last that this was not some strange dream…but I did not cry…not then…not at the funeral…not at my first HS play…or prom…no, I did not cry…she was coming back. She’d run off before, leaving me behind, but she always came back…I had just seen her, less than 24 hours before…she couldn’t really be gone. I finally realized, some random day at 19 that she was indeed not coming home, she was not going to show up like always with some excuse for being gone for so long, a whole bunch of presents from her adventure so we’d forgive her for all the trouble she’d caused again. My last words to her still ring in my head, “Meggie come on, it’s just for a while, I’ll be good I promise and Ely will take you home for church tomorrow.” “I HATE YOU! Do you hear me? If you leave me with him and go I HATE YOU!” as she pushed me away from the door to go to the bar. She left me…and once a year I become that 11 year old girl sitting on my Papa’s bed while everyone else mourned looking out his window at all the cars out front, waiting for her to walk in the door. I never seem to grow up, every year I become that girl, lost in emotions I don’t understand, not really believing that yet another year has passed. I want to close the process, to finally start to be able to see past this one day every year, over and over again. To finally forgive myself for what I said to her and to forgive her for leaving me and never coming back. Everyone else has had 11 years this Easter Sunday; I’ve only really had 3.
I regret not knowing her, what her favorite color was, the way she smelled, her favorite book, what she liked to eat, how she said goodnight, what color her eyes were, any snippet of information. She loved me, I know that. I realize now that my mom was always running from life, looking for someone to save her from some dark shadow chasing her. She couldn’t handle it, so she would drink…her poetry, her journal like doodles spread randomly through her things; all of it tells the story of a woman who was looking for life, sanity, to feel loved. She wrote that I was her reason for existence, that God had placed her on this earth just for me…but I was not enough in the end I guess.
Nothing has been the same since she left us. I have faith that she is at peace, finally. Just as I have faith that someday I’ll have peace too…until then I will sit on my Papa’s bed and wait.

Easter Bunny Strikes Again!

The Truth about the Easter bunny...alas. (I am not sure what the sound has in it, I'm at work and have no speakers)

I Yonked this from Cindy :)

You Should Be A Capricorn

What's good about you: hard working and ambitious, you're practically a guaranteed success What's bad about you: you can be unforgiving toward people who fail you In love: you're very picky, but extremely devoted to the one you choose In friendship, you're: likely to be a good friend but expect a lot in return Your ideal job: rock climber, sculptor, or practitioner of black magic Your sense of fashion: preppy and put together You like to pig out on: meat and potatoes

What Sign Should You Be?

Revised history of a weekend...

To describe this weekend I’d need a large dictionary with a thesaurus sitting next to it. I do not really know the words for all that happened, I guess in an effort to best place the weekend into words I’ll split it up. Sorry in advance for the bad grammar, spelling errors, horrid sentence structure, and length.

-Journals: I have a love for journals and for my roomie, and this good friends birthday is next weekend so in an effort to get her a present and get it to her before the date past I went on a grand adventure. All alone I ventured into the large city and spread the wings of freedom. I know I’ve said before how much I adore the blaring radio and a drive alone, but this included shopping, pure perfection. My roomie has made a lot of changes in her life recently, one of those changes is 30lbs of weight loss and a loss of 4 pants sizes. In an effort to improve the quality of her life she has also begun to Journal (secretly cheers) and being the poor college student I am, I went out into the world of shopping on a mission. I wanted to get her a Journal that was iconically her and not $30. After a disappointing trip to Target my first store of choice in any situation, I headed to my second favorite store in the world, a massive bookstore. Barnes and Noble of course has a large selection of Journal’s and after scouring the shelves for something perfect I found it. A clothbound hardback sketchbook in which my beloved Christy could place not only her words but also her sketches, images from magazines, photos, and really anything else she wanted. Elated and also holding a new journal for myself, perfectly bound and only $8.00 I left content with my shopping spree and what I had purchased.

-Brett: I know I’ve gushed over him several times, but this weekend he proved himself in ways more telling than ever. Two nights of conversation that went into the wee hours of the morning and even the conversation of last night I realize what an amazing man he really is. I found some amazing stuff that chronicles our relationship from the beginning and it is lovely to think that we can go back and watch it all unfold. Yay to my packrat tendencies and yay to the amazing road we are on. I am so excited to watch where my life is going and what place he has in it.

-Desktop’s, Yearbooks, and Journal’s oh my: I love to go home because I get to dig through boxes and sometimes if not every time I find things I forgot about or that I have not seen in a very long time. This weekend was no exception. On my desktop, Obie, I found many interesting things, including old poetry, school papers, random journal entries that never got put anywhere special, some pretty scary pictures, and even some amazingly interesting conversations I saved with Clarkie. I tend to get into Nostalgic moods and they last until I can no longer handle the overwhelming sense of the past flooding me. I dug out my Senior Yearbook and looked through it; it brought back memories of Scott and my Yearbook class, crazy events like my Band trip to Chicago, the joys and pains of all the clubs I participated in, and all the people we tragically lost that year. After getting through the pages of the hardest year of High School I experienced, I found a issue of my first college’s magazine where I’m on the cover as a bearded Shepard ( I have the blue headgear on ;) ), and then amazingly ran across some random disk in my Garage that contained about a year of my online HS Journal that had been hacked and deleted. I was shocked and amazed to read the lines blurring together on the screen. The girl I was then no longer exists…I was manic and spastic; there were no comments that did not include a whining picture of my unhappiness or my distaste for the life I was leading. While I do not remember being this girl, I am glad to say that I am no longer her. Most of the entries were from my Jr. Year and the summer before my senior year, needless to say I could not really read a lot of the drama. It was still neat to find and to have now tucked safely away on my desktop, password protected, and reminding me that I have a long way to go before I become the person I want to be.

Oh Deer: On the way back to school from home Clarkie and I argued and fought, laughed and joked, and killed a deer. Clarkie was changing the song on his ipod trying to make me listen to some band I do not like when he spots around four deer walking across the highway, I look up at his gasp and break slamming to see one deer headed straight for the front of his truck. I’m not sure what I did, I don’t remember if I screamed or gasped, but I do know I saw the deer fly and by the time we’d stopped had my head buried in my hands not breathing. He thankfully had not stopped until we were far enough away from the dead deer for it to be out of sight, I shakily got out of the truck to assess the damage with him, gripping the door for support I stood on the verge of tears, not sure if I should be relieved we were okay or sad that we had just killed an animal. After I felt like I could walk with my jelly like legs I followed Clarkie to the front of his truck. What we could see from the one headlight left looked like he’d slammed into a light pole going 90. I won’t go into graphic detail, but needless to say, there is no way the poor little animal lived. Growing up in rural Missouri I would hear about people hitting deer all the time, I however, had not experienced it. I know several people who had been killed after slamming into the deer that frequently cross back highways and can’t explain how it makes me feel to know that I could very easily not be typing this right now. The rest of the trip home I was jumpy and rather upset and at one point I almost jumped out of my seat as Clarkie jerked the wheel and gasp over another deer that looked like it had also just been hit. Needless to say while trying to fall asleep at 1:45 when we got home, all I could see was that deer. A few feet and I might not have been alive, Praise God we are okay.

The way it was...

You are seeing the only two photos of Clarkie and I that I really have. I have two others, but I don't know what I did with them. These were taken in the Fall before we stopped getting to see much of each other. I normally would not put pictures of me that I hate anywhere easily accessible to others, but I wanted to remember this. So for posterity sake, me and my best friend Clarkie...the way we were.

Do you ever connect with your past in a way that smacks you in the face? Facebook and MySpace are two of the oddest places on earth, and yet I find myself blown away by their power to connect people. What do you do when faced with people who knew you when you were finding yourself? What do you do with people who saw you roll down two flights of stairs in HS? Or the people who remember the screaming fight in the cafeteria your senior year? The people who watched you perform on stage or even performed with you? Or your first college crush? What about the people who tormented you? When does a person stop defining themselves by the people they used to know rather than the person they are? Do you ever stop wondering about the people who were faces in the crowd of your life? In this picture collage I have captured HS, my freshman year of college, and my even my first year and half in Tulsa...all those people and I are connected...

Pack Rat

Out of sheer boredom I began to clean out my e-mail folders in my hotmail. The funny thing is how old some of these e-mails are. The oldest? 99 from my freshman year in HS. That was literally 8 years ago! I thought I'd put some funny snippets in here from a few of these ancient e-mails. :)

State here your completely honest opinion of me: You're a great person. If you give your best, and don't slack off you'll go far. You're one of the few people who are special enough for me to wanna get closer to you, but I'd hate to have you as an enemy 'cause I also know what you're capable of. (From Renee in a survey email about me 7/29/01 and yes I was semi-evil in HS...who wasn't?)

Who is the scariest driver you've ever met? MEGAN!!!!!!!!!! *barf face* *scared face* *wink* (from Kodie in 03 in a survey about her and I'd like to state..I'm not a bad driver! I've never had a wreck or a ticket! Minus the mailbox...but that has a logical explanation!)

anyway I was amused by these things and thought I'd add them to my blog :)

Nickel Creek

Every great once in a blue moon I find a band that blows me away with their music. Nickel Creek is one of these bands. I have to say I’ve fallen madly in love with their sound as well as their lyrics. Personally I'm not a major fan of bluegrass, but this band's music is stirring. If you get a chance click the links I have provided and listen to some of their stuff, they also have clips on their main site which is linked in my title =) Happy Lost and first Cards game I get to watch on TV day...lol

Some of my favorite songs:
“When you come back down” –Nickel Creek
“When in Rome” – Why Should the Fire Die?
When in Rome Video for Window Media
When in Rome Video for Real Player

Lately I have been losing the joy in the random everyday moments. In an effort to regain a sense of this I’m making another list. This is a List of some random things that have brought me joy in the past couple of weeks.

Squeak Attack- As a rubber ducky lover and collector I tend to wind up with ducks everywhere; this can lead to some crazy events. Last night before a massive blow out between Clarkie and my roomie, Clarkie and I had a rubber duck fight. The sqeaking was insane; it started out as me just squeaking the duck at him, and before it was over the squeaking was at a volume to loud to comprehend. I’m sure my neighbors loved it. It was hilarious and random. Hands and squeaks were flying everywhere, if you can handle the insane squeaking its quite fun.

I like big bibles and I cannot lie- Hearing lyrics from the Christian version of Baby got back entitled Baby got book….really I shouldn’t have to say more.

Team meeting- Last week I conducted a team meeting for my lab. I was nervous and not looking forward to lecturing or even being mildly grumpy to the Comp Asst in my lab, but it was a necessary evil. After the meeting, which went fantastically well we were all just sitting around talking, and started to tease another labs team leader who was working a shift in my lab. He and I are buddies, me and two other girls started to argue about who gets to marry him, we were all talking about how we each had to take turns being his wife…I apparently get the weekends. Even funnier is that we are all taken girls. He took it in stride and was rather amusing to watch.

Full of air- While watching Lost last Wednesday Clarkie and I started arguing about something or other, in order to prove his point he thought it would be funny to roll over onto me, causing pain. We were watching TV in my room on my air mattress. The only thing he did was manage to push me farther into the air mattress. In amused tone I said, “uh...air displacement, nice try.” It was funny because of the defeatist attitude he had for the next 10mins.

When ducks attack- While walking home from my first shift on Monday I was attacked by ducks. It was still dark out and these two ducks had wandered quite a ways from the pond, in an effort to give them space I arched around them, apparently they were not amused by this. They instead of quacking a thanks proceeded to follow after me, quacking rather rudely. I finally was able to break free considering I have longer legs and don’t waddle, but the memory of the insane quacking ducks will haunt me forever.

Every school year I like to write a Top 10 list of events or memories of the year or semester depending. I ended up missing last semester’s Top 10 so here folks is the 05-06 Review in no particular order.

1. My Tattoo- I love it, and I am really glad I actually did it. The experience was a crazy one. Anne who was completely composed and me shaking like a leaf both did something we’d be talking about for months. It was a bonding experience for us and something crazy to represent the changes in my life this year. I love how I designed it and the meaning behind each piece of it. It was something I can't believe I did, but that I seriously do not regret.

2. The Zoo- My apt became a zoo with all the animals that passed through it. From Barnaby the dog, Zoey the dog, Crissy the hamster, and my fish Ma’a it was like we couldn’t live without animals. In the end Barnaby was puppynapped, Zoey was given away to a friend, Ma’a passed away (may he swim in peace somewhere), and only Crissy remains.

3. Black Belt Fever- My sis got her black belt! I wanted so badly to be there, but the way we had to leave Spring Break meant we’d miss her test. I am so proud of her. Kat really is just the best sister I could ask for, she is so much more than a younger sibling, she is a best friend. I couldn’t ask for more.

4. The Air Mattress Blues- Having all the trouble with the air mattress last semester. It was a crazy ride and I mean that literally. From the tiny pin prick sized hole all the way to the hole a child’s fist would fit in. Then the adventure in buying a new mattress which also had a hole in it…how’s that for luck? I never actually got another queen platform mattress and still sleep on the replacements replacement mattress, it has yet to pop or get a hole. *cheers*

5. Hair Dye Hell- After getting blonde highlights I had to get my hair dyed like every 3 weeks to keep my roots from showing, before I knew it I was almost completely blonde, and I suddenly wanted out. So in order to look less blonde I went from getting highlights to getting a weave. That is where some natural color is dyed into the hair with the highlights in an effort to keep from turning into the highlight color completely. The problem was that the “natural” color was at least 4 shades lighter than my actual natural color and I now had to pay even more to maintain my hair color. I finally gave up and dyed my hair back to its natural color over Christmas break, this however resulted in orange, and had to dye it the darkest shade of brown to cover it. Things are pretty much back to normal now, minus the lighter streaks of honey hair where my highlights used to be.

6. Homecoming- My friend Greg came to OSU and he, Anne, and I all went to the game. It was a blast to attend the walk around and see the huge scenes set up by the frats and sororities. The game was probably one of the most exciting of the season and I’ll never forget the insane cheering, wild dancing, excited high fives, and hugging in the first half as we stomped Texas. We lost the game, but it is one of the best memories I have from fall.

7. Family Feud- So many times I’ve gone around this in my head, and the only answer I have for it, it is what it is. The crazy times with my family made this school year the hardest I’ve ever gone through and I can’t say that it ever really got better. From where I sit today I feel more alienated then I did when I first met my Dad my freshman year in HS. I can only hope that someday things will be congenial if nothing else. I just wish this didn't affect how often I get to see my sis, I really miss her.

8. Twinkie Decay- The changes in my relationship with Jason have always been drama, but somehow even with the total change in our lives, his impending marriage, and my adoration for another, we’ve managed to still be the best of friends. I’m not sure that we will be best friends after this summer, but the ride was crazy and totally worth it. He is one of those people you know you were destined to meet.

9. Cheese me- Brett has been apart of my life in a steady sense for quite awhile now, but he really has become more than a passing phase for me. We hit it off from the beginning and honestly I’ve never met someone so different from me, and yet so alike me. My life has been crazy this past year and he has been there through it all with me. I love his humor, intellect, talent, easy temperament, kindness, and a million other things about him. He makes me happy, quite the feet these days, and I can’t imagine my life without him in it. I adore him and am excited that he adores me just as much, its Lurve, Luff, and a whole lot of that cheesy stuff =)

10. Titanic- Getting to go to the titanic museum in Branson with my friend Nikkie was amazing. Nikkie and I have known each other since I was in 4th grade; her sis and I have been friends since then as well. Nicole grew up like a sister in my life. She is a great girl and I love her dearly. We have a love for similar things and even more than that we enjoy spending time together. The trip to the museum was a blast and a lot of that was because she was there. I’m excited to spend time with her this summer.

Everybody's Free to Wear Sunscreen, by Mary Schmich:

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.