Tapestries

Tuesday 29 April

So I ended up falling asleep AGAIN last night briefing the NFIB v. Sebelius case (read: Obamacare) and that was my life in a nutshell I am going to be the best lawyer ever.

Yesterday began with me waking up on the couch shouting obscenities because I fell asleep writing my synthesis paper, and that's why I'm a bad chemist. Finished an eight pager in an hour, which I think is some kind of record. I left early for the library to print and then trudged up the stairs of Ekeley and just yaaay.

Then we had a lab on the Synthesis of Coumarin Dyes, which I was like, "Oh, this is pretty simple, it's just a trans-esterification and then an acylation and then a quick hydrogenation" and I think I even got 100% on the quiz but NO OF COURSE NOT WHY WOULD THINGS WORK OUT FOR ME.

Basically

Because honestly I did EVERYTHING RIGHT and what did I get instead of a nice pretty yellow precipitate like expected? A BLACK DEATH SLUDGE THAT LOOKED LIKE OIL WHAT THE HELL IS MY LIFE. Even the lab director was like, "I literally have no idea what's happening to your reaction." It's official. I'm Seamus Finnegan:

Actual Depiction of Me In Chem Lab

So yaaay last lab of the year.

After that, I bussed home and read most of Montecore in two hours while also napping, which is interesting because that was literally 200 pages that I blew through. I got through all but 50 pages and read the last ten pages while settling down for Revolutions and I was like, "WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL" and got some looks.

Anyway. Revolutions was next, which was fabulous as always and we learned about the Tunisian revolution (Jasmine Revolution) and that was SUPER interesting, with a quite literal spark to start off the revolution (the self-immolation of Mohamed Bouazizi) in a state with lurking multiple dysfunction (the corruption was off the hook) and intransigent elite. The West was all like "What the hell just happened?" because the Tunisian people literally took down a regime that had been in place for 23 years in a mere 28 days with about 300 deaths. And the amazing thing is that the democracy is basically the only one that's survived the Arab Spring.

And to think, back when Tunisians were struggling for independence, I was struggle to get an A in Calculus and trying to relax without a clue that this was happening. I had no idea what was going on. This is why people hate Americans.

Anyway. Then I walked over to Nordic Literature, where we had a quiz (fuck) and talked about the plot twist at the end of the book (MY MIND IS BLOWN BUT I SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED THIS) but this was mostly me the whole time:

Lolz I Done Goofed

We also read an article by the author about racism in Swedish society and I would really recommend it to everyone  because it's really, really brilliant writing and raises a point of the racism within a well-regarded egalitarian society. There was one point where Jonas Hassen Khemiri wrote, "You must be a thousand times better than everyone else if you don't want to be refused" and my teacher asked if we'd ever heard that about a group in society and someone said "Women." And my teacher was like, "I've heard that said."

Then there was me in the back saying, "Ben, I've said that before. That is my life."

Because of course it's not the type of thing that I broadcast. I have no right to complain about the fact that I'm a white, lower-middle class female with a good head on her shoulders that has, for the most part, convinced most of the populace that I am the real deal and deserve to be taken seriously. But it hasn't been easy to get where I am. That's why on some level I can connect with the people that are struggling to get by and that face discrimination because we are consistently forced into proving ourselves when others can just walk right on in. It sucks. Maybe not as much for me as for others, but it sucks.

I don't know why we hate everyone that's so different from us. It's astounding to me. I mean, I get that it's human nature to band together in homogenous groups (honestly, that's the reason I hang out with nerds all the time because we can bond on the basis of shared experiences and interests), but that doesn't justify the absolute hatred that comes along with that sometimes. I don't know why I should have to sacrifice my femininity to get along so well with my guy friends. I don't know why people of color have to act "white" around here or else they're stigmatized. It makes zero sense to me. Maybe it's because I like the idea of plurality, of many voices, and maybe it's because I am a (admittedly poor) scientist and I know subjectivity fucks up my results (see above). But I don't understand it and it's so frustrating that we consistently ostracize and disregard anything that's different instead of looking objectively and engaging with it. I was the only white girl from America in the room a couple of weeks ago, and it was awesome. It's been remarkable to hear all these stories from all these people that have a different experience. Maybe, after all, it's because I'm a writer, and I like stories and I'm endlessly fascinated by everything and anything.

Because honestly, what are we except for the tapestries of our experiences, woven from many different colors of threads? Why be boring? We get enough of that in modernity. Live a little. Embrace differences, learn as much as you can from people, and love your fellow human, because underneath anything else, we're all just a tangle of nerves and veins and fluids. There is at least that to connect everyone in this fucked up rock we call home.

Anyway. After that, I walked home and I drove Paige and Crissie around and found Plato's Closet (which, just, yes because I'm hella broke), and then I made some pasta and finished the Roe brief. I then started to read NFIB, but I fell asleep, and then I tried again, and I failed again, so I finally went to bed. I repeat: I am not a successful adult.

So yeah. Long days. Longer nights. Total exhaustion. Infinite resignation. That's April!

I'm off to writeup a lab and study in advance for my three fucking finals on Saturday.

Thanks for reading :)

The Middle

Monday 28 April

ONE WEEK MORE. Thank the gods.

Yeah so yesterday began too early at 6:30 AM for some reason, where I tried my hardest to brief a case in 20 minutes, and I almost finished all of the Roe brief, so you could say I'm killing it. I'm totally going to be the best lawyer ever.

Organic chemistry ended up with me sitting in the back of the classroom basically like this:

WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME

because this unit is really disorganized and my teacher just keeps throwing mechanisms up on the board and random reactions and quite frankly I looked at my TA and he had the same look on his face. We connect on a spiritual level, I'm sure of it.

Then I trekked over to Constitutional Law, which was another session of throwing half-cooked spaghetti at a window because there was no rhyme nor reason to what we learned. I think professors at this point in the year are basically just panicking because they realize how much material they still have. What they don't realize is that we're in the same state of panic and have about half the effort as last week. Seven hells student life is hard.

I then went and hid in the library reading Slaughterhouse Five and making a nineties grunge playlist because that's what I do when I get bored. I need help.

Anyway, then came organic recitation and for the first time in forever I actually knew what was going on and I only had to ask Thomas one question about the worksheet instead of sitting there in a wave of WTF IS HAPPENING. So yay!

After that, I ended up hiding in the library again and wrote a blog, which was better than writing a gloss on Vonnegut, and I almost turned that in instead, though somehow I doubt Jonas would want to read about my existential crises hiking up mountains and dealing with 20-year-old stuff when he's expecting my on-point literary analyses. I'm surprised and thankful all of you keep coming back for more day after day.

Then I was off to writing. First I tripped on the way into Hellems, which was great. Then I talked Thrones with my friend Connor and that was delightful because he was mindfucked too. After that, we talked about Kurt Vonnegut and that's always my favorite. There was one description by a Chinese writer about Vonnegut that went something like, "He's funny and contemptuous, but underneath all of that is a sad man who needs comforting," which, as I told my class, is the most accurate thing I've ever heard about Vonnegut because he's fucking hilarious and I find myself laughing out loud more often than not. But sometimes, the gravity of what he's saying hits you and you realize it's not a game and maybe we won't get out of this alive, and this world really is kind of a terrible place. And that's honestly how I feel a lot of the time. But humor is often how we face some of those tough truths. As Oscar Wilde said, "If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh. Otherwise they'll kill you." And I've never head anything more accurate.

Afterwards, I walked home in the ever-quickening winds of winter that came from the west, and it was hella cold, but for some bizarre reason I was just so happy that none of it even mattered, and that was okay. I've found myself in that position a lot this year, which has been such a nice change from everything else. Sometimes the storm is raging, but sometimes there's an eye in the storm moment and that's so nice. Believe me. It's so nice.

My roommates were absent when I got home, so I made some pizza rolls and read a couple chapters in Dance With Dragons because I deserved it, and that was so nice. Then they came home and we played Charades again until Davis came down to Paige and I shrieking "America the Beautiful" in a rendition that makes Lana Del Rey's SNL performance look brilliant. It was great. We then went to the store and I bought caffeine and food. Woot. Came home, ate dinner, and finished my prelab for the LAST ORGANIC LAB EVER YASSSS, and then I opened the word document that would become my synthesis paper. But then Dani was like, "Do you wanna watch Thrones again?" and of course I was like, "FUCK YEAH THRONES" and so we went upstairs and "Oathkeeper" was great again and things make more sense. I can breathe again.

We had a long Thrones chat afterwards again, which is always fun, and we decided we're doing A Song of Ice and Fire for Halloween and it's gonna be awesome. So far I'm going with Crissie as Elsa to her Anna and Margaery Tyrell to Thrones (though I did want to be Cersei because she's my spirit animal but I get to throw shade either way hell yeah). What have I done? Evan and I talked about episode 10, where theories concurred and that was nice, and then we talked about Ser Pounce being the One True Knight of Westeros and finally we talked about which Houses we'd be in (and I'm totally Martell because Dorne is hella progressive, plus I have a habit of telling boys I don't like that my name is Nymeria so yay).

After that, I went on another music binge whoopsie and wrote a paper about the synthesis of polystyrene while fighting the urge to sleep, failing and falling asleep, and typing some more when I woke up. 

Moral of today: I am not a successful adult. I am a huge geek that loves some things a great deal more than others and is simultaneously thrilled and dismayed this year is ending.

So my writing teacher just started watching Game of Thrones and he really likes it and I'm just like "Oh you sweet summer child" because he seems like a Stark Fan. He also said he knows what happens in Red Wedding, which led us to a talk about spoilers. Vonnegut starts off Slaughterhouse Five by telling us that the first words are "Listen: Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time" and the last are "Po-Tee-Weet?" and tells us that the whole book is largely about the firebombing of Dresden, but we don't see it until the end of the book.

But honestly, isn't that how life is? I'm a fatalist, and I'm weirdly bounded my my fear of my own mortality. We know how we came into this world. We know that it's all going to end someday. And all the rest is a whole lot of middle. You know what happens at the Red Wedding? That doesn't diminish the importance of the story. That makes it a whole lot more important. I became fiercely attached to Catelyn (and to a certain extent Robb Yolo Stark) because I knew her fate. I become fiercely attached to all of my friends and care deeply for them because I know how it ends. I know all this will someday end, and I know that we'll all become ash and dust once again, and all the things we've ever loved or will love will be obliterated and we'll fade into oblivion's eternity. But that doesn't mean that now is diminished. The now is finite, but it's not unimportant. It's beautiful, and it's yours. This is the middle. There are more stories to tell and more adventures to have and more days to stand with the earth strong and alive beneath your feet. This is not the end. Not yet.

Anyway. It's time for me to go brief a case or two (yaay).

Thanks for reading :)

We Choose To Go To The Moon

Sunday 27 April

Basically I don't even know where to start with this Thrones life because just WHAT THE WHAT WHAT WHAT I AM READING THE BOOKS THIS DIDN'T HAPPEN IN THE BOOKS WHAT I NEED TO WATCH THIS AGAIN MAN FUCK THE ROE BRIEF.

Yesterday morning started off a great deal calmer, with a solid five and a half hours of sleep at 7:24 AM when I woke up, put on my hiking pants and shirt, and headed out the door because I promised my mum I'd hike with her since we've both had rough weeks and that's how we fix our problems.

So my mom and I headed up the TWO AND A HALF MILES OF STRAIGHT UPHILL TRAIL that was Mount Morrison. We talked about life, my future, my mom's future, the terrible luck of the Roses (literally, we're like the Starks, but with less dead people—it's one bad thing after another), and what the hell we're going to do. My mom is the best.

Towards the top of the hike, it was basically a boulder scramble, and we both thought about not doing it, but I always like a good scramble, so I went ahead and told my mom to wait because she's like Lucille Austero with her vertigo. It's bad. And I thought about climbing back down and just heading down with her, but on the way up, I just kind of frowned casually at the sky and was like, "Why the fuck did you come here if you weren't going to go all the way?" and climbed up the east face of Mt. Morrison like a freaking spider.

Up at the top, I was alone for about two minutes or so and it was glorious—that's the quietest I've had my world be in the last few months or so. There aren't enough quiet places in the world anymore. This nature is shrinking. There aren't enough spaces where you can sit beneath an open sky and be alone completely, where the only sound is the wind in the trees and your own labored breathing. And I think that's tragic—this is why I really identify with the Children of the Forest. My mom actually managed to make it up to the top as well, and so we decided to explore the old railway carts that were rusting up there and I got the shot:

I Always Get the Shot

So maybe if I'm broke I'll be a photographer or something of the juxtapositions modernity presents to us. Yay alternate options.

But I'm glad we went all the way up. What's the point otherwise? I've never been the person to go halfway (my choice in majors should be proof enough for that). And why shouldn't we do everything that's possible for us to do? Why the hell shouldn't we live big? Why shouldn't we do the things that scare us, that exhaust us, that challenge us? JFK in one of my favorite speeches said, "We choose to go to the moon, and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win." Because we do deserve to do these things. We deserve to go and kick ass and take everything we can from this life. Don't settle for anything less than the best. Because the view from the top is worth it.

Anyway. The walk down was a bitch, though. My patellas had knives under them the whole time, and there they remain. Fucking hell this old ballet injury keeps acting up.

After that I hung out with the fam, taught my mom how to use Excel, and found this golden picture of Mason that I'm totally going to plaster his room with:

PURE GOLD

IT'S THE BEST.

Then I came home, wrote a blog, and then had an emotionally fraught chat with Crissie that was well needed and aired our dirty laundry and that was fantastic and cleared up a lot of things and that was ideal, since it's been a bit Rough this year and we needed to do it. But then that ended because Connor and Graham knocked on the door and she had to put on pants.

Then it was TIME FOR THRONES. Get ready for "Oathkeeper:"

THE STRUGGLE TO COMPREHEND IS REAL

Well, Dany's kicking ass. I don't like the imperialism, but this is going to be SO FUN to see how this one develops because shit is going down. We got a lot of Jaime this episode, which was interesting because that's a helluva complicated subject for me at the moment, because this really, really brought out the Season 3 development that they shat on most unceremoniously last week, and they didn't really deal with that other than my queen Cersei drinking heavily even for my queen Cersei. What (that's my OTP, ps, Cersei X Wine by the way). Also in KL, I love Bronn, thank you for making the hand a running gag you're my fav. Oleanna is the realest bitch in these Seven Kingdoms and a personal hero and I really admire that, plus Purple Wedding shenanigans are falling into place really quickly, which is YAAY. Baelish is living up to his "Cheep Cheep, Motherfuckers" House Words and being a super fucking creeper with Sansa and ugh I hate him but LOVE HIM ugh. Additionally, BRYAN COGMAN STOP IT WITH THE JAIME/BRIENNE SHIT OH MY GODS STOP STOP STOP BRIENNE IS BREAKING MY HEART I CAN REALLY RELATE TO HER. Also, Tommen's "oh-this-is-what-Grandpa-Tywin-meant-by-that-talk-he-gave-me" face was amazing.

Also, I want Ser Pounce on the Iron Throne. He could run a kingdom better than half of these idiots, defending the innocent and whatnot. ALSO, MEERA REED HAS THE APPROPRIATE REACTION TO RAPE THANK YOU MEERA LET'S BE BEST FRIENDS.

This whole plot in the North Never Happened In the Books and I'm LOST and CONFUSED and WHAT WHY. Locke (I thought he was still called Vargo Hoat and was dead at this point but apparently he works for Roose? WTF?) in the North, Jon Snow's Nordic Warrior Mission at Craster's Keep is plugging full steam ahead (???), and Bran and Company in Craster's and potentially running into Jon (?????????) and the VOLTURI OF OTHERS WHAT? (?????????????????????????) I DON'T UNDERSTAND.

Anyway. Thrones life is rough life.

I then tried to brief a case, but I fell asleep. Woot woot.

Anyway, I'm off to do ALL THE HOMEWORK.

Thanks for reading :)

The Iron Throne Will Rust

Saturday 26 April

So Saturdays are always a bit useless for me, because I usually try to catch up on what the rest of the week has thrown at me, and this week I got a LOT thrown at me.

Woke up safely in bed, so score one. Then remembered the night, and it hit me like a freight train. Was physically ill for the rest of the day. In the hole again.

Anyway. I went outside and tanned with Paige and read a bit of Montecore and wallowed in misery until I fell asleep in the warmth of the evil sun, which burnt me. Thanks universe. You're the fucking best.

I came inside and tried to read, but I fell asleep instead, because I was clearly not ready for this week to really end up the way it did. I'm so disappointed in myself, honestly. I'm really struggling with all of everything, and it's ridiculous. I don't know what to do and I literally don't want success in my life half as much as I just want to sleep. It's so bad, and I always get this way at the end of the year—an entire semester of working your ass off just so you can keep up is the Absolute Worst and I'm so sick of it.

But then Dani came home from campus and Mina and Paige came inside from the evil sun and we played "Charades" on Paige's phone and that was pretty nice. Mostly we just shouted the plots and actors of movies at each other and then wailed song lyrics (and when "Total Eclipse of the Heart" came on Paige and Dani screamed and I immediately knew what that was, because we like that song a little too much for our own good).

Bongi then texted me and asked if I wanted to get Cosmo's and of course I said yes on that one because FOOD DUDES and we walked there and I regretted all of my life choices and such and that was really fucking bad. Basically I ended up feeling worse about everything I've chosen to do, because sometimes when you're in a hole everything seems really hopeless and you don't know what the fuck to do. Seriously I can oxidize a ketone but I can't fukkin figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do in the real world WHY CAN'T YOU TEACH ME THESE KINDS OF THINGS UGH.

So yeah. Then I sat and wrote about my problems and let them marinate for awhile. It's weird because bad situations always make for good writing and it's the absolute fucking worst thing ever. Because I don't want to have to sacrifice having a good life for writing and I'm done with what Linda Greenlaw said, and that was to get your heart broken a lot. I hate that advice. There's too much truth in it.

Anyway, then Paige told me to stop being such a sad sack and to put on some lady clothes and come with her over to Mina's apartment for a small gathering. Said gathering involved pesto and REAL AUTHENTIC PARMESAN CHEESE OMG and then we danced the night away. It wasn't a talking party, which is usually my kind of party, but it was rather nice to learn some dances of Italy or whatever.

My sister also snapchatted me and was like why the fuck are you wearing makeup and this was my response:

Ask Me If I Care I Dare You

Anyway. Then Paige said she wanted to leave, and I was perfectly okay with that because of Reasons and I'm not very good in social situations and whatnot. On the way back, she admitted, "I'm glad we left because I kind of just want to watch Sherlock and eat pizza rolls" which is basically the greatest victory for nerdkind ever. And so we sat on the couch, made pizza rolls, and watched our favorite episode "A Scandal In Belgravia" with lesbian dominatrix Irene Adler. Woot woot. Also I realized this gem:

HONEYPOT SIGHTING

And that's why Talisa Maegyr is foreign—she's not from Volantis she's from London. NO WONDER Roose "On the Loose" Bolton hates her—he's like "Oh this one has a grudge against high-functioning sociopaths." I mean, good for her that she gets Robb "Yolo" Stark after John—helluva rebound, gurl—but really fuck those stupid seven kingdoms OF COURSE YOU'RE STUPID ENOUGH TO GO THERE YOU STUPID MIDGARDIAN (This paragraph is one of the many reasons I'm surprised I still have friends). 

After that, I went to bed.

I don't know. Maybe it's just the hole I'm in, but I just felt a little sad and mostly just tired throughout the whole thing. Maybe it's the whole dancing thing, because I haven't danced in three years and it always makes me really sad. It's never going to be what it was. That's my curse. Pro tip, kids: Never let yourself get too invested in dance, because it will make your college and high school careers utter misery because you can't go back to it like you used to. I used to love it more than anything, and now it's a bit tainted, and maybe that's what you get when you grow up. Maybe that's the reality that you couldn't see. Ignorance is bliss, and reality bites. It's hard. I don't know when it all got so convoluted, honestly. Maybe you can't pinpoint the exact second that everything falls apart. It doesn't end in fire and blood, oh Targaryens. It ends in slowly oxidized iron and slow rotting of cores, a slow, gradual, inevitable decay. Granted, that's not very good for House Words, but that's the truth. The bitter, painful truth. Maybe I'm a cynic. Probably I'm a cynic. Actually I'm a cynic. But that doesn't diminish the importance of all of that.

Anyway. Thrones and a new blog and a shit ton of Nordic Literature tonight woot woot.

Thanks for reading :)

Work In Progress

Friday 25 April

Basically I'm sitting on the couch listening to my playlist entitled "Drink You Away" (aka, All Of My Sad Songs) because I really screwed up last night and I'm trying to deal with it.

Happy April 25th, the perfect date, because it's not too hot and it's not too cold, and all you need is a light jacket. And quite frankly I ditched the stupid light jacket because Colorado is stupid and doesn't know what seasons are.

Anyway. Yesterday started off with me still sleep deprived and that's always fun. We learned some more about monosaccharides and weird shit they do sterically in Ochem and that was pretty nifty—I honestly think it's really freaking cool, and maybe if I didn't suck so much at organic then I'd be interested in pursuing a career in that. But alas. I don't know what I'm doing.

Quote of the day goes to my professor, who said, "Emil Fischer was the epitome of an organic chemist—he was a chainsmoker with a beard. After he died, they all were just chainsmokers, and after they figured out that smoking was bad things just got boring." He really loves organic chemistry, that one.

Anyway. Then I dragged my ass across campus to Constitutional Law, where we actually had a guest lecturer who happened to be our real professor's wife. She's a campaign finance lawyer and that shit sounds cool, because it's a bit of a free-for-all and actually figuring out what's going on is so tricky and delightful. She was also involved in the Citizens United case (which here's the opinion again because it still pisses me off *angry dragon noises*), and so she helped to clarify a few things about it, which was nice. Campaign finance is a thing I feel strongly about, mostly because campaigns are so exhausting and expensive and I don't know why we aren't spending that money in other ways. Then again, I don't think I can remember the last time a grassroots politician got elected without some kind of PAC behind him or her—there are some organizations that give me a bit of hope for things like Clean Slate Now and that's nifty. It's so fun.

Then I walked home, read a chapter about Pronouns, edited briefly the paper about war that I have to make perfect, and ate pizza rolls (because I like the simple things in life).

I chatted with my writing professor before class and he said he really liked my rhetorical analysis paper, which was kinda like "Jonas are you on drugs I wrote that in three hours the day it was due" and also like, "Yeah, I still got it." So yay. Writing was okay—we talked about pronouns and that was interesting, because it's one of those things that's always changing and evolving and stuff, and yet it was hella frustrating because it shouldn't change so freaking often. I like language and rhetoric, and part of me is really mad that we trivialize things like whether or not to use "their" for a gender-neutral pronoun just because it's not singular. Also an interesting fact: "he" is used almost twice as often as a pronoun than "she" is when discussing a gender-neutral thing. Hey, Feminist Maggie, I didn't know that would piss you off so much.

I also found out that my writing prof is leaving in the fall and I'm super disappointed—every single time I get a professor that I'm really enthusiastic about and likes my writing, they LEAVE ME and it's NOT OKAY. STOP THAT I AM SO ANGRY YOU CAN'T KEEP ABANDONING ME LIKE THIS. I KNOW YOU HAVE LIVES BUT MY LIFE FALLS INTO REALLY SUPER SHITTY PATTERNS LIKE THIS AND I CAN'T TAKE MUCH MORE OF IT.

After that I got to have a chat with my Norlin director and that was A+ because I always love talking to Joan—she genuinely cares and never makes me feel like a total failure even though I kind of am sometimes, because she knows we're all works in progress. So that's always nice. She also gives me some pretty good life advice and that's ALWAYS appreciated since I have no idea what the hell is going on at least 95% of the time.

So yeah. Got home and read some well-deserved Dance With Dragons, where another one of my favorites turned out not to be dead and OMG FREY PIES and my second-favorite sociopath Roose "On The Loose" Bolton made an appearance. Love that guy.

Made some pasta, had an emotional chat with Paige (and I worry a lot about her too because she puts up with a lot from everyone and is in a very weird place and I know how that feels—gods why the hell can't we just be happy IT'S NOT FUCKING FAIR AND I'M GOING TO CRY), and then we had a karaoke session involving "Hotel California" and "Don't Stop Believing" and other classic rock songs, and then we took some selfies so yeah:

This is Why We Can't Go Nice Places

Benedict Cumberbatch had better watch out for that one.

Anyway. Then Crissie came home from work and we got ready to go out to Ramadonna, and had a pretty emotionally fraught chat on the way (and I worry so much about her too because she's had a rough couple of months and is dealing with it all remarkably well, but I know how it sucks to be in such a lost place, and LIKE I SAID NOTHING IS FAIR IN THIS STUPID LIFE AND I'M SO PROFOUNDLY ANGRY ABOUT IT ALL LIKE WHY CAN'T YOU JUST GIVE US A FUCKING BREAK), and then Ramadonna happened.

Anna and I reminisced and then I actually met some new people and wasn't awkward or misanthropic, and then I took a lot of selfies with mah crew and got to talk to people I love so dearly and don't ever get to see anymore because life started happening. And I wish we could do more things like this, because it's so important and I need to be more on top of my shit when it actually happens.

And then basically, because of four days of sleep deprivation and Reasons, I force quit on the night.

This is when I screwed up. Things I said and did not say were misconstrued and I ended up feeling trapped and panicked, and that's never a good thing for me to feel, so I lashed out on people that didn't deserve that. I hadn't slept in four days and I'm dealing with my sister and my grandma and the rest of my freaking family and I'm so worried that I'm going to fail organic chemistry and I'm stressed. I am constantly consumed with worry and listen to a neverending howl of internal panic and I know I don't manifest it often, but it's always lurking there. It's not an excuse. Because I know everyone has their shit and they have it together.

But I literally don't think I can articulate how worried I am about everyone and everything and how much I care about these people in my life and how profoundly sad I am that soon it's all going to end. I'm so bad at feelings, which is one of the reasons I'm not very good at being a girl, and I can't explain why I feel the things I feel, and I don't tell people how much I care because words are wind and I'm a coward that way.

So this is it. This is my attempt to find reason in this void of nothingness. This is me, trying to write and trying to tell you what I feel. It's a work in progress, just like me.

But words are wind. The only thing I'm really undeniably good at is a fallacy on some level. And I'm so sorry that I can't do more.

So yeah. I'm going to go fix things. Or at least, I'm going to try.

Thanks for putting up with my shit, and thanks for reading :)

Tralfamadore

Thursday 24 April

Well I'm ALMOST TOTALLY caught up on the blog, next on the list is sleep and case briefs, though those are happening later since a de-stress is going to be Necessary later.

Pro Tip for College: Never, EVER, EVER, EVER fall asleep after pulling an all-nighter. Push through it. If you fall asleep it's all over—aka you'll not enter REM sleep and that will make you regret all of your life choices and you'll wake up without being rested and with a massive headache from lack of sleep—yeah, THANKS BRAIN I KNOW I HAVEN'T SLEPT IN AWHILE YOU'RE DOING YOUR JOB SO WELL.

So yeah. I woke up in that really weird place you find yourself in after an all-nighter—you're happy and excited and life is awesome and you're just so marvelously aloof. The mountains were honestly really beautiful this morning and it was pretty neat—against the sky, they looked like a cutout instead of the realest things in this town. It's so weird. Skies are neat, especially the Colorado skies with a monochromatic depth that pulls you up while rooting your firmly on the ground where you stand. It's weird. Hella weird.

Please enjoy this diagram of an all-nighter, because it's 100% accurate:

Painfully Accurate

Anyway. I went to lab, where I listened to my colleagues who are all vastly more qualified than I present about their synthesis projects, and I ended up being the only one that did polystyrene, so yay polymers. I edited my paper and people were like, "What the hell are you writing about?" and I answered "Oh, The English Civil War," and they just give me this skeptical look. It sucks being in two worlds, thoroughly at home in each of them, yet never really being accepted by either. The sleep deprivation was hitting me hard at this point and my whole brain was crying in protest to the lack of Red Bull coursing through my veins.

Then I came home, ate some pizza rolls, edited the paper, and printed that muthafucka out. It was a relief, honestly. It's not a bad paper. It's also not a good paper. But it's a paper. I did at least that much. You can count on me to always do at least that much.

Then I actually went to revolutions, where I made a new friend via my Norlin friend Natalie—her name is Rachel and I tried to socialize or whatever—and then I talked to this kid Jack because we'd talked on Friday about these damn papers, and then I chatted with this guy Leo I sat next to, and he too was shocked about Organic chemistry—really, people, I want to rule the world, I'm going to be as broad as I can with the data I collect. Then we watched The Square which if tomorrow wasn't Ramadonna then I'd totally watch in the evening, but Ramadonna takes precedence over everything, basically.

Then I went to Nordic Literature, where we discussed Montecore and I struggled to stay awake. The struggle was real, but it was nice to leave early because FCQ's. I walked home, went to Cosmo's with Paige, went to Sprout's and we shared a cake (I'm a great boyfriend), and then I fell asleep on the couch. I woke back up around 8:30 and then read a bit on Roe before blogging and thinking and such, and I ended up falling asleep whilst writing this last night so this is the state I find myself in.

Goddamn Right I'm The Best Boyfriend Ever

We talked on Wednesday about the Tralfamadorian novel in Slaughterhouse Five and I think I'll just transcribe that paragraph because it's the best:

Each clump of symbols if a brief, urgent message—describing a situation, a scene. We Tralfamadorians read them all at once, not one after the other. There isn't any particular relationship between all the messages, except that the author has chosen them carefully, so that, when seen all at once, they produce an image of life that is beautiful and surprising and deep. There is no beginning, no middle, no end, no suspense, no moral, no causes, no effects. What we love in our books are the depths of many marvelous moments seen all at one time.

And that's why I love Vonnegut okay bye

But really. I don't agree with a lot of what the Tralfamadorians say (like ignoring the bad moments—just because something terrible happens doesn't mean you get to disregard it completely. You have to keep moving, of course, but it's healthy to reflect and get better from it all. Someday what doesn't kill you comes back with a vengeance, and you'll have to beat it back again. I know that much. I really do), but I like this idea of novels—it works really well with Vonnegut's especially. It's a good way to think about life, especially in my position. Maybe there isn't any inherent meaning, but that doesn't diminish the importance of the moment.

Really, though. I think the happiest I was last April was at Ramadonna, where literally we sat around and talked for like four hours and then went to Denny's and Donna fit a whole pancake in her mouth. Another time was when I went on a hike with my mom and she bought me lunch. Another time was watching Iron Man with my friends. Or this last year, when I hung out by myself for three hours and studied art history, or when Crissie and I took all those terrible selfies, or when I led my roommates through glen and over dale on a hike. None of these moments revealed any inherent truths about the nature of humanity, but they were nice moments. They had depth and they had meaning, if only just because they didn't suck. Everything matters. Everyone matters. That's why I keep this up every April—at the end of this all, it's a depth of many marvelous moments seen all at one time. And I think that's beautiful.

Anyway. I'm going to edit a paper real quick before writing.

Thanks for reading :)

It's All Like Cellophane

Wednesday 23 April

So yesterday was SO BLOODY LONG and I made a huge mistake and procrastinated myself into a corner. Then again, I watched the sun set, then stayed up just so I could see the sun rise again. It was really a special day.

Anyway. Dragged my ass out of bed to go to Organic Chemistry, where my prof looked at me like, "Gods be good, Rose, you're still here?" and I was all like:

I Bet You Thought You'd Seen
The Last of Me

We learned about monosaccharides, and I UNDERSTOOD EVERYTHING because the only things I learned in Calculus III were partial derivative and spatial perceptions. Also, stereochemistry is now EASY and I'm KICKING MYSELF FOR THROWING SUCH A HISSY FIT LAST SEMESTER LIKE THAT WAS A DAMN CAKEWALK WHAT THE HECK.

Anyway. Then I went to Constitutional Law and that was great—we mostly just talked about the Schuette case that I read about on Tuesday and I managed to be The Luckiest Motherfucker Alive Since Jean Valjean Walked This Earth because my prof got too excited about Sotomayor's dissent to talk about Roe v. Wade, which was TOTALLY okay with me since guess who's only halfway done with that brief? This kid, I'm going to be the best lawyer ever. He also described the opinions as a "big, sprawling judicial street fight," which is 100% accurate, and then we bashed the Court's narrow reading of the 14th Amendment, because fuck that doctrine. Really, though. What's the point in having an equal protection clause if you don't actually equally protect minorities of ALL forms? EVER? It's hella frustrating.

There's also something in the Roemer v. Evans case that's referred to as the "Mysteries of the Universe Clause" and it's SO GOOD. Basically sometimes Justices decide they want to wax philosophical on something and it's wonderful if a little out of place—hell, you're writing a SUPREME COURT DECISION tell your clerks to lay off the drugs (then again, who'd be the kind of clerk to wax philosophical on the universe? This kid, I'm going to be the best lawyer ever).

I should probably put in the disclaimer that I've slept a total of one hour in the last thirty-six hours, and a total of six over the last seventy-two so you could say I'm a bit sleep deprived and loopy in the extreme. Sorry. College. Double Majoring. Ugh. 0/10; do not recommend.

Yeah but then I walked home and that was great, because it's always great, and I read Slaughterhouse Five and did a google search of my revolution while eating pizza rolls. Yay look at me college!

Yeah. Then I WENT to writing, where we talked about repetition (according to Vonnegut life is a repeating polymer and instead of being like an ocean as Dostoevsky says, it's all like cellophane because everything goes on even after we're gone. So it goes, as he'd say).

We also talked about the fictional city of Ilium, which is another name for Troy, which opened up some interesting possibilities regarding Billy Pilgrim as Aeneas, which is what I was going to say, but then I would have had to say, "It's the book by Virgil that starts with an 'A' with the guy from Troy that founds Rome with the magic armor or whatever" and then they would DEFINITELY think I'm on drugs because I'm pretty sure precisely two people in the room would know what I'm talking about—also I'm 99% sure that most people in that class only know what Troy is because of that film Troy with Sean Bean who survives and Brad Pitt man bless Hollywood and their modern attempts to make things like The Ten Commandments. Life is so hard sometimes.

Then I walked home again and that was grand. I got home, read some of Montecore by Jonas Hassen Khemiri, whose style reminds me a great deal of Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer. Good novels nonetheless. Very inventive stylistically.

I also talked to my mom and got some disconcerting news regarding everything, and I also just have to say that I'm a lot like Mycroft Holmes in that I worry about my little brother and my little sister—especially my little sister—constantly. And I mean constantly. It's a full time job. I'd kill a motherfucker for those kids. They're massive pains sometimes, but god damn I love them fiercely and if anything were to happen to them then I don't think I could ever get past that. Being the oldest is weird because you feel in some way bizarrely responsible for what your siblings turn out to be. And because of that, you get to worry constantly. I'm terrified they will make the same mistakes I did and get hurt the way I did and that they'll have to grow up and see what a terrible place this world is like I did. They don't deserve that. No one deserves that. But at the same time I'm terrified that they won't be able to see the beauty and the joy that's underneath all the shit we get to put up with. I'm telling you. The worry never stops. Older sibs, you know what I'm talking about, and younger sibs, it's true. We just won't ever admit it to you.

After that, I packed up all my shit and headed to campus, where I went to orchestra and got free pizza so yay! My stand partner also said, "You know what I realized the other day at the concert? You're the only girl in our section." To which I was like "GODDAMMIT IT REALLY IS JUST ME AND NOT MY ENGINEERING FRIENDS AM I REALLY THAT PROFOUNDLY UNGIRLY?" It would explain a helluva lot, which would be nice to get some answers. And yet, it's also really profoundly unhelpful—I may not act like it 95% of the time, but I am a girl. And it's infuriating to always assert that because I'm not inclined to follow a lot of the stupid fucking gender norms society's imposed on us. You have no idea how frustrating that is.

Anyway. I then spent six and a half hours in the library researching the English Revolution because guess who procrastinated the shit out of her paper? THIS GIRL UGH. Almost fell asleep twice, chugged a Red Bull, and ended up walking home with Crissie when her shift ended at two in the morning with 1500 words to still write, yet 4000 words in quotes. Winning.

After a lovely walk through the Boulder night, I went up to the study room, locked myself in there with some Red Bull, Easter candy, and a playlist called "The Iron Throne," and I wrote my term paper on why the English Revolution occurred and why it had the outcome it did (Spoiler alert: It's due to Charles I's absolutism and religious strife and ended because the English are pretentious nerd that love their constitution and there was no way anyone but Oliver Cromwell would have been able to maintain the protectorate). Here is a selfie I took at four in the morning after three days with practically no sleep:

My Name is Maggie Rose and I Really Fucked Up.

Gotta love those existential crisis selfies. Those, skiing selfies, and selfies with random animals in the background are my favorites. Also my hair looks hella cute. Just saying.

I came back to the apartment at 5:54 AM and promptly passed out on the couch. I got to see the same sun rise as I saw set. Like I said, it was really special. It really is all like cellophane—an endless polymer, ending and starting on the same plane, an endless repetition that's really, honestly quite beautiful in its familiar continuity. Maybe that's the sleep deprivation talking. Maybe it's because a small part of me really loves polymer chemistry and I know I'll never be able to do it because I'm so bad at organic chemistry. But the fact that we go on, and the world keeps on turning, and life progresses despite literally everything is astounding and fascinating and really just quite delightful to me. I love that. The resilience of the human spirit is something, at least to me, that I'll never quite get over. Our ability to keep going is one of the few good qualities our race possesses. We're just little units whose days pile up like monomeric units, and then we align and make something better. I don't know. Look up liquid crystals or azo dyes or polystyrene if you want.

I'm about to ACTUALLY WRITE THE THURSDAY BLOG NOW YOU'RE WELCOME and then I'm going to brief Roe, and then I'm going the fuck to sleep.

Thanks for reading :)