bus system.

Public transportation is relatively frightening, I've learned. My roommate and I took the bus today, twice, to get to Meijer and back. The way there was uneventful, but the way back was accompanied by a very well-articulated, presumably homeless man.

He spoke very coherently, but I couldn't figure out what he was speaking about. He jumped from ideas about creationism, to French democracy, to friendship, to homosexuality, all in about a five minute period. My roommate and I tried keeping up, but it eventually just became impossible.

He did say that one thing thing that seemed to implant itself in my brain, however. "The purpose of life is to create." I'm pretty sure he was talking about reproduction, but I took it differently.

Maybe that's why we are here. To create. To form friendships, relationships, secure financial positions, homes, and a niche in society. To generate new ideas that are capable of influencing others.

Or maybe not. Maybe we're just here because of biology. We evolved, we exist, we reproduce, we perpetuate, eventually we'll be replaced with a superior species. I would like to believe there is a higher reasoning, even if there is not.

We witnessed other peculiar people on the bus as well. A man with a classy, Marines doo rag was seated in front of me, and a pair of fluent Spanish speaking Mexicans were behind me, one of them rubbing his stomach for the entire ride, as if he had just ingested the most delicious meal ever. Simply, it was weird.

On a side note, Garden Salsa Sun Chips are amazing.

normal.

Saying today has been hectic would be a dramatic understatement. I've probably stopped moving around for a grand total of half an hour, between 8:00 this morning and now, 4:30 PM. I'm not even done for the day.

In short, here's my day: Wake up, vascular biology lab, mouse house, Dr. Bodary's office, anthropology lecture, twenty minutes for lunch, Italian, mouse lecture for vascular biology lab, anthropology discussion. Now I'm savoring my rare moment of peace by vegetating and watching videos of baby animals on youtube. Try it, it really sort of melts the stress away. "Fuzzy fuzzy cute cute," is a good place to start.

My roommate and I have been exchanging these for two days now. They're rather fantastic.

However, one decent thing about being completely booked all day, is I get to see some very peculiar things about campus. For example, today I saw a man whip out a violin under a tree and play "Don't Stop Believin'." It very possibly made my week. Another time, I saw a "living statue," and a few days before that, I witnessed a hula hoop contest with one participant wearing a chicken suit.

I sometimes wonder, though, what is definition of normal? These strange people may seem very odd to me, but do they simply find their peculiarities socially acceptable?

This brings me to another point. What is the definition of a normal person? I could describe myself as being abnormal, but I honestly couldn't tell you what I would be like if I were normal. Are stereotypes normal? Are people who love cats? Are people who work forty hours a week in an office? Are people who shop at Macy's?

Finally, everyone always encourages people to "be unique," and "be an individual that stands out." How are we supposed to know what kind of norm we're supposed to deviate from, if the entire world is made up of original people and nonconformists?

It's a daunting feeling. Establishing oneself in a society full of exceptional people with their own ideas, it makes you curious if your "abnormal" ideas are really all that abnormal. Or if anyone really cares, either way.

puzzle hypothesis.

I enjoy doing puzzles on random occasions. It's tedious and hardly satisfying, but it's still something that can provide a unique satisfaction. That's what she said.

But really. You could work at one for hours at a time, monotonously piecing together every small component, until finally, you've rearranged the big picture. You can take a step back and see what your work has all been for.

And then you throw it in the box again, so it can collect dust for a few more years.

So why do I like puzzles? Simply, because they're simple. They represent small victories. You work so long to achieve the end result, and when you do, you have a brilliant piece of art to look at for a day or two.


I guess the point I'm trying to lead to is, life is not like one big puzzle. It's about a million little ones. You accomplish one thing, get to bask in that happiness for a short period, and then you store it as a memory and throw it back in the box. Then you repeat the process. In short, it's a constant process. Finish one, move onto another. Or work on a few at the same time. Or rot in laziness and not put any pieces together for a week or two.

Like human goals, puzzles vary in difficulty. The tough goals, like getting into a good college, or succeeding at a long-term relationship, are 5000 piece puzzles. The easy ones are more like the 25 piece puzzles you can buy at the dollar store of Finding Nemo and Arthur, and would probably be something like learning how to make a grilled cheese sandwich or waking up on time. Additionally, it's easier to take pride in a giant puzzle than it is an itty bitty one a four year old could do.

Of course there are obstacles. When we lose just one piece, the puzzle becomes unfinish-able, and the goal becomes impossible to attain. When the angry family pet bumps the table and the puzzle crashes to the ground in a slow-motion avalanche, we must start over. When a piece breaks, we must take the time to fix it, so it fits in neatly.

Old, completed puzzles that are collecting dust are our memories. We either can give them to others, by telling them of such memories, or let them die when we do.

Damn. Now I really want to go find an old puzzle and do it.

In the grand scheme of things though, it probably wouldn't be a small victory I'd want to cherish. To my future grandchildren, I'd probably give them my dusty puzzles that are valiant, success stories. Or romantic, lovely ones.

If only one thing makes sense in this entire entry, I want it to be this. I want my figurative closet to be full of dusty puzzles. I want to do a lot, and I certainly don't want to forget any of it.

the right of way.

Well, it's been a few days. But honestly, there has been nothing of interest happening. I have a four day weekend, which is really nice, and I fudge a B+ on my math exam with the massive curve, but otherwise, diddly squat.

I'm currently at home. Being here mostly involves catching up on my DVRed TV shows, going shopping, and once again gaining the access to a car. The best part about being here though, is being around the people that I know care about me. It's a pleasant feeling. I get to bask in this for approximately two more days, which I'm beginning to realize, is fantastic.

I almost ran over a person on a bike today. Through no fault of my own. I was driving down the street and they decided they would like to also be in the road. But, after slamming on my brakes and swerving out of the way, we both managed to escape the situation unscathed. My heart was racing, but otherwise, no harm done.

But really, who does he think he is? I was technically on the road first, and he didn't even acknowledge when I blared my horn at him. He nonchalantly stared at me as I passed him. Yeah, you're really awesome mysterious biker. Invest in a helmet, based on my encounter with you, you'll need it.

Finally, Paranormal Activity scared the living daylights out of me. I don't even know how to elaborate on that.

denial and math.

It has gotten considerably colder these last few days, but I don't want to accept this. Therefore, I continue to go out only in a sweatshirt and jeans, stuff my hands in my pockets so my fingers don't fall off, and occasionally wear a second pair of socks.

Sure, I look ridiculous, but I can still dream that one day I'll wake up and the sun will be pouring in my windows with a balmy, summer breeze blowing in.

My math exam today made me understand the real meaning of "math problem." The exam was insanely difficult, moreso than the four practice tests I did and all the quizzes we've had in class so far, so the only thing I can hope for is that they'll curve the hell out of it. Everyone else I've talked to seems to agree with me though, including the smart kid who was in my team homework group. This is somewhat encouraging, if not depressing.



I don't like calculus, I've decided. Or at least, I don't like the way it's taught here. Here it's promoted that we understand the theory of math, and its applications. I miss just being taught a formula and having all the right answers just fall in place one after another.

And to be honest, I found it easier to care about something that I both understood and consistently produced a correct answer for. This is not the way to be, I'm supposed to embrace difficult problems and trudge through them like the math maverick I am. But no, I'm only human, and like a five year old might relate to, if I don't understand something, it's stupid.

This is how children work. If they can't grasp something, or it's more difficult than they're used to, it's dumb and they stop trying.

Well, calculus is dumb and I forgot to eat dinner today.

well don't i feel silly.

Today I went to a class that was cancelled. Actually, it's been cancelled the whole time, I just neglected to notice it on the syllabus. Luckily, I wasn't the only one, and got to chat with a kid from Texas for a few minutes while I recovered from my mad dash from one building to another.

I have my first math exam tomorrow and a biology presentation. Dun dun dun. News on this to come.

On a different note, I started a new personal project today. I have a tree in front of my room, and it's in the process of changing colors from summer its summer green to its autumnal reds. Everyday I'm going to take a picture of it and then put it together in some sort of movie showing it changing. I'm aware that this has been done, and I'm angry I didn't start when the tree was completely green, but oh well. I think my biggest worry is that I'll fall out of my window when taking said pictures.

I suppose that tree is somewhat like me. It is ever changing, but in a routine manner. Next summer, I will return home, and get to see everyone that I knew and loved from high school. Then in the fall, I'll return to the university to be introduced to an entirely new slew of people, with a few near and dear ones thrown back in. So on and so forth, at least for the next couple years.

However, someday this will be forever changed. Eventually I'll have my own place to live, and my circle of friends will morph into something entirely different than what I used to know. This is where my similarity with that tree ends. I will move on to bigger and better things, this stupid tree will not budge. And it will continually change colors, lose its leaves, and grow slightly: until it dies.

In short, I don't want to end up like the tree. I don't want to grow complacent with my life, and develop such a predictable routine that everyone could calculate exactly where I would be at any given time. But at the same time, my undeniable fear of change is tugging at my heels, and urging me to cling to the past like there's no tomorrow. This blog is to help me monitor my so-called, "moral and psychological evolution," I've decided. So I can both keep track of memories and where exactly I'm headed.

I apparently do a lot of thinking when I don't have to sit through another mind-numbing archaeology lecture. A few other things that are somewhat noteworthy: the lab work is going well, as is the boy situation, and my blistered hand is healing nicely.

Anyway, time to go scavenge food and try and loosen my roots a bit.

tennis and dedication.

So, I told myself that I wouldn't let this blog die. I wouldn't let it fade into oblivion like my livejournal and other blog on this website. No, this time would be different. I shall scold myself for not writing yesterday.

Bad, Kate. Bad.

Anyway. Today was a busy, fun-filled day. I volunteered to go sort some medication, went and played tennis with a grad student, then went and played through a recreational team here.

Con, my hand "resembles Freddy Kreuger's." I think I have some sort of issue where my skin is too soft, because I have five brand spanking new blisters blossoming on my palm. It's highly unfortunate.

Despite this, I feel amazing. It feels so good to get back out and hit, even if I did so in a rather unimpressive manner.

Today my roommate and I discussed what kind of pet we would like, or what we could get away with in our dorm. I suggested a turtle, but she isn't too keen on the idea. She wants a cat. We're not allowed cats in here. I could see this ending badly if we did adopt a feline friend.

Here in college, I've come to realize how much I miss home. I miss my puppy, and the ease of finding a friend who wants to do something utterly nuts, and my parents. Having a car and my dad's cooking were also greatly underappreciated when I lived there. My newfound freedom is a perk though, even if it means I have to muster up the energy to do my own laundry and wake myself up in the morning.

I believe I'm venturing home this weekend. We have a four day break, and I intend to make the most of it.

On a very random note, a few friends and I spent a majority of yesterday on youtube, discovering the very weirdest things it has to offer. If you want to laugh, look up "ninja cat," and click the first one, and Brandon Hardesty's "Funny faces and noises I can make (I-IV)." Time well spent.



I apologize if this entry is even more scatter-brained than normal. Having spent a good part of the day realizing how out of shape I am, my thought process is considerably slower.

Off to bed. Goodnight Moon.

fast slow kids.

Fridays are possibly my busiest days of the week. I'm beginning to despise it, although the extremely long naps I take after my biology lecture ends are always fantastic. I awoke at the crack of dawn today to head off to the vascular biology lab for three and a half hours, I scarfed down some chili for lunch, and then I went to my introductory Italian course.

This class was very amusing, for a change. We worked on translations, and me and the hilarious kid to my right worked together, although considerably slower than the rest of the class. We also made up new, much more logical, definitions for -are verbs. (See list below.)

However, despite our mediocre translating skills and tortoise pace, the class itself went by much faster than it normally does. When I pointed this out, my neighbor just said, "Well, we're the slow kids, but at least we're fast slow kids."

I simply responded with, "Yeah. It's like we're stuck on the short bus, but it's going a million miles an hour."

It rained all day today. I don't mind the rain, but I hate wet shoes and socks. My feet are currently nestled comfortably under the radiator, for they've been frozen all day and it's a nasty feeling. I find it strange that something that is such a small aspect of my day can put such a damper on it.

It also bothers me when my socks don't match. I think I just have a complex about my feet and what I put on them. These are relatively weird things to be annoyed by, but everyone has their own idiosyncrasies. Some are just more amusing than others.

Well, before I make the two foot journey over to my bed, here is my somewhat abbreviated, promised list of modified Italian verbs. (The real meaning is in parentheses, our meaning after.)

Pensare-(To think) To write with a pen.
Pranzare-(To eat lunch) To prance.
Viaggiare-(To travel) To be a vegetable.
Ballare-(To dance) To ball, or to be a baller.
Lavorare-(To work) To levitate.
Lavare-(To wash) To fall in lava.
Ispezionare-(To inspect) To be special.
Imparare-(To learn) To imply a party.

It's perfectly acceptable to use these in conjunction with English. (Also known as Italianglish, pronounced it-al-ee-ang-lish.) For example, saying, "I'm lavoraring!" or "I enjoy prazaring through the park," is fine.

Or at least it would be in a perfect world.

the lucky scarf.

I am currently in a fantastic mood, and I've decided to attribute it to the return of my lucky scarf. I'm not superstitious, but throughout the day, while wearing it, a lot more good things have happened to me, than if I had left it at home in the closet.

Well first off, I like the way the scarf looks. Although it's the green and white, it still very much resembles something I would wear during the winter at Hogwarts.

But anyway. I was at home today, ran a regionals site for my high school's varsity boy's tennis team. They made it to the state tournament. My current boy interest has stopped being a colossal ass-hat. I got a cookie from a club meeting I went to. I passed my integral gateway exam for calculus, earning me ten extra credit points for the class. I found five dollars under my bed today, and the spare key I was worrying I lost. Tomorrow is Friday!

However, one thing bothered me today. I went to Tim Horton's this morning, for a hot chocolate, being that it was colder this morning that it has been all year. I paid my $1.60, then drove off the the tennis courts where I'd be working, and then decided to taste the beverage.

It was coffee. That tasted astonishingly watery. I drank it anyway, but was left with gross breath until I bummed some gum off of someone. Coincidentally enough, I didn't have the scarf on when I placed my unfortunate order.

I would not have had coffee breath had they gotten my order right. I feel bad for the person who ended up with MY drink, and I wonder how they handled the surprise.

I hope they made a scene. It makes me feel slightly mischievous is MY drink was the weapon in a scenario, or a projectile. It's almost like my order caused a sequence of events that lead to something momentous.

However, I have managed to cope with the fact that this probably didn't happen.


P.S. There were two cops in line in front of me for the drive-thru at Timmy Ho's. I couldn't help but laugh.

the joy of snail mail.

What an unexceptional day. My biology lab group continues to grow more ridiculous, and I love them for it, while calculus continues to grow exponentially more difficult. I also haven't worn makeup or done my hair in about three days now, but I haven't progressed to the point of wearing sweatpants continuously or donning clothes that have previously been worn numerous times. Yet.

Out of the ordinary, two significant things happened. I received news that my great aunt had passed away, and I got a letter from my best friend.

In all honesty, I was not close to my great aunt. I loved her as a family member, and I'm very sad she is no longer with us, but I seldom saw her, unless she accompanied us on a semi-annual family trip to Mackinac Island. However, I regret not getting to know her more. Humans store a lifetime worth of memories, and a majority of them never get told. They then vanish when the human does.

I feel worse for those that were close to her, such as my grandma, who no longer has anyone she can share her childhood memories with. I don't exactly know how I would feel about that. Being alone.

On a more cheerful note. I received a letter in the mail from my best friend. There's something much more satisfying about snail mail than there is a Facebook message or an e-mail. Anyway, after opening the meticulously decorated dinosaur envelope, three things fell out. A small note, a picture of us with a stunningly creepy old man in the background, and a picture of an axolotl, my favorite creature.

These items would mean nothing to someone else. It makes you appreciate having such a friend and having things that only you two would understand. I miss having her around all the time to accomplish ridiculous things whenever we want. But, life goes on, and it's not like we've moved to different planets.

Overall, it's been a rather bland day, and I really do not want to attend my research program's seminar tonight.

captain bloodbins.

The early part of today, in retrospect, could have ended terribly. I overslept, having turned off my alarm in my sleep deprived stupor, and then spent a good half hour composing a very apologetic email to my research supervisor as to why I wouldn't be able to make it into lab today.

I proceeded to go back to bed after this, managed to somehow turn off my alarm again, and awoke with a mere ten minutes to get ready and run off to take my archaeology exam.

Thankfully, it was possibly the easiest test I have ever taken. I finished with about forty-five minutes to spare, but really didn't have to rush off anywhere, so I drew a stick figure pirate. Naming him Captain Bloodbins, I then detailed his adventures in finding treasure, sailing across the bottom of the nine-page test, and then being killed by a ninja at the end. I'm hoping my GSI is good-natured, and finds my illustrations as entertaining as I did. She probably won't.

I submitted this story to mylifeisaverage.com. I'm hopeful I'll have my ten seconds of fame, and the popularity of Captain Bloodbins will peak. I adore this website. However, I have noticed the general evolution of it, growing from truly average stories, such as "Today I went to work. Then I ate cereal for dinner. MLIA," to very outlandish things that make you wonder if people have made up. Present stories deal with Harry Potter, magic, dinosaurs, superheroes, and amusing things older generations have said.

On the other hand, these newer stories are small miracles. If they are presumed true, it's a hilarious thought to imagine your friend creating a bat signal on one of their lamps. Or in my case, documenting the life of a two-dimensional pirate. Both of these indeed happened, and in general, I think these small gestures that make people laugh are much needed in today's society.

Lunch today was disgusting. It consisted of some sort of Asian/Mexican infusion, and the end result was completely unappetizing. Dessert was a plus.

So here I sit. Evaluating a very simple website, talking to a friend via Skype, and trying to figure out when the earliest I can get dinner is. And as every college student could admit to, procrastinating inevitable homework.

On that note, I think I'll go do something else MLIA worthy. Like make a fort in my dorm room and have a Star Wars marathon.

conclusion.

You're supposed to start things with introductions. I have never considered myself to follow the concentration gradient, however. I tend to deviate from the expected norm, but I consider myself to be nothing exceptional.

I am a terrible writer. My syntax leaves something to be desired, I have figured out.

I'm a college student. You don't need to know where. However, I'm an atypical one, and probably would make the producers of Animal House and American Pie weep.

I'm not a philosopher, my thoughts are unoriginal, and for the very few readers who might actually pay attention to my drivel, I'll say thank you in advance, but I'm clueless as to why you might tune in to such a pointless commentary.

Today we had pasta for dinner that tasted exactly like the pasta from the other night, even though it said it was entirely different. I have my doubts.

That is probably how this blog will end up: exactly like last week's pasta, just reheated and maybe with one new vegetable thrown in.

So, in final. This blog is written for the entertainment of myself. It will probably end up being an online diary, of some sort, because in actuality, who has extra time in today's busy world?