| Scotch... |
[16 Apr 2004|01:28pm] |
...is a beautiful thing. An elixir of relaxation. Unless of course you have too many...in which case the bitterness comes out. I have always said, you have to have a little bitterness in your heart to enjoy scotch. And then I also say I love scotch...so what does that say about me.
Pardon the jumble...I have a looooooovely scotch buzz going. You know you're up tight when your loved ones suggest you have a drink.
Here is some food for thought; the skills/traits that serve you really well in grad school (obsessive, compulsive, perfectionism, constant vigilance against failure or flaw...), do not serve you well many other places. People are always telling you to calm down, relax. Sometimes I get so passionate about ideas people think I am angry...and that confuses me.
Another item for cognitive digestion; considering the number of brain cells I have killed over my life (and the number is considerable), and the probable hippocampal damage I have inflicted, how is it I am in grad school. Not to mention, thus far, excelling (knock on wood)? (Side note: I actually knocked on wood! I am a goon!) What could I have been if I had engaged in such reckless and detrimental recreational activities?
It is funny. I have heard a lot in my life about how smart I am; but I usually only hear about it when I am fucking up. I wish I had my new CD in the house. I got this great African Gospel CD. I love it--the music is full of so much joy, I just love it.
That reminds me (my dog barking reminds me that is), my dog is one of the greatest people I have ever known. People extol the virtues of animals a lot, but it is something difficult to describe. He is kind, and gentle. He is protective but never possessive. He loves me with all his heart, and he will love anyone who will let him, and no matter how many people he loves--he will never love me an iota less. He has a sense of humor--and his language capacity is amazing! People (in general)definitely do not give animals enough credit for their linguistic comprehension abilities.
Sometimes I just need to be drunk. By myself. I can't interact well with others at this level of intoxication (or when sober...just kidding?), but I need it for myself. I can let go here. And maybe that is dysfunctional--but I don't think so. It isn't like I need it on a regular basis (a couple times a year). And it isn't like I can't function without it. (and for anyone thinking I am rationalizing...piss off. This is narrative expression, and not necessarily...anything)It is just that I am holding on so tight...it is hard to relax. That is something I am so aware of. I used to be okay with the thought of dying...but now. I have so much, and it is MINE. I have worked so hard, I want it. My smiles, my sunshine, my dog, my ice cream, my rain on the roof...even my tears, and my anger. I can't quite own my mistakes yet but I am working on it.
My biggest project just now is to forgive myself for my adolescence. Overall to forgive myself for not having the wisdom and judgment of an adult, but specific things as well. I would really like to forgive myself for confusing my self-worth with my sexuality. It is a mistake a lot of girls make--especially in adolescence--but some how, I think I should have been smarter.
Oh well, way to much for the internet...I should go.
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| Guess I should write more |
[14 Apr 2004|08:48pm] |
I have really been meaning to journal regularly...not so much here but on paper. I am really a paper sort of gal. I love writing in books--probably why I can never sell back my textbooks. Not that i want to--I hoard them. Of course that helped me reassure myself that it was my neurophysiology prof that was a looney and not me (12 pairs of cranial nerves indeed! Not since he was in school!) There really is no sense in trying to hide my geekiness. It oozes from me. My fiance likes to call me Hermione--it's not my fault. I just have very positive associations with academic success. And now I am in an environment where they say, "balance is the key...Don't push yourself too hard...It is okay to get a B." But then if you actually do get a B they jump down your throat (so I hear--I haven't gotten a B yet, too scared to). Besides, there are only three choices: A, B, or F. Makes a B not look so good anymore. And it isn't like they've expanded what a B means either--the most generous B offered is 80% of possible points or better. Cotton picking flim flam. Wow. I was going to say that I like to swear like Yosemite Sam, but once I wrote that phrase-- I suddenly saw how racist it's origins probably are. Another guiltless pleasure bites the dust.
Okay, that is enough writing for finals week.
Back again when I am sane.
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| questions |
[14 Apr 2004|08:44pm] |
I want everyone who reads this to ask me 3 questions, no more no less. Ask me anything you want. Then I want you to go to your journal, copy and paste this allowing your friends (including myself) to ask you anything.
Well, I pasted it. But I'd answer more than three questions...only three would be truthful.
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| I dunno why I swallowed that fly... |
[10 Feb 2004|10:56pm] |
Sooooooo, since I seem to be doing no harm--it can't hurt to write. That is another thing I used to love to do. Hmmm...could I pick up yet another hobby? No I will in fact lose it.
I am a grad student, and sometimes I forget how proud I am of that fact. Especially when I have a test, a paper and research due, and I am so tired I could fall down and cry in my sleep. Then I have no idea why i am doing any of this.
Anycow, we will start slowly...
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