Well That Didn't Work
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11:44 PM
THE SLUMBER PARTY
Hello all! Sorry its been so long since my last post, not much has been going on. My last final exam was on the 21st, but I had to stay at AU until the 23rd to work, not that I'm complaining. Anyone that knows me knows that I consider New Jersey to be my own, personal hell; having to work back at AU was a welcomed obligation. I ran errands on the 24th (yes, I actually braved the mall the day before Christmas,) slept all day on the 25th (the ultimate Jewish day of rest,) ran more errands on the 26th and went to NYC on the 28th to meet the man I'm hoping to intern for on the American Stock Exchange this summer. I think the interview went well.
Yesterday, I had an afternoon doctor's appointment and then Adi picked me up and brought me to her house, which is where I am now. I'm connected to the internet via her neighbor's unsecured wireless network. Its the second time in as many days that I've done so... : o / I'll be here until Saturday, I'm so excited. I've only been here for a day and she and I are already having a lot of fun. I'm basically going to be here Barbie Doll for the next few days. We shopped all day today, we'll do so again tomorrow, she thinks I should get my hair cut, we've been watching "Invader Zim," we've played board games, we're gonna make a cheesecake, "narf, its all just too much for me," lol.
Ok, that's all really. Good night.
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4:32 PM
THE STRAIGHT EDGE CURVES
Wow! That's all I can say about last night, wow! After getting off work at 11:00, I went upstairs to join the triplets' send-off party for Adam; he's graduating in a few days. When I entered their room, I was received with open arms by Alex, Adam, and Mitch and introduced to a few of their other friends whom I had never met. Each of the boys had a bottle of wine in hand that they were trying to finish off to "toast" Adam. Alex asked me if I wanted a drink. I'm not sure exactly why I said yes...maybe it was because I, too wanted to "toast" Adam, maybe I was tired or curious...I think I just realized that if I was going to drink, the triplets were the guys to do it with. The boys on my floor have been trying to get me to drink since the day I moved in (gee, I wonder why,) but I know the guys upstairs, I know none of them are trying to sleep with me, and I know they'll watch out for me and keep me safe. But I digress. Alex asked me if I wanted a drink and I said yes.
Alex: How much alcohol have you had before, I mean at one time?
Me: I've had two glasses of wine at various family events, that's basically it.
Alex: How'd you feel afterwards?
Me: Didn't feel like anything, not even a buzz.
Alex: Excellent. You're probably a medium weight.
He then grabbed a large, black, plastic cup and proceeded to mix Absolut Kurant, cranberry juice, Hawaiian punch, and gingerale in it.
Me: That's an awfully big cup.
Alex: Oh, don't worry sweetheart, there are only two shots in this. The rest is juice, punch and soda.
Me: Oh, I know that. I don't think you understand. I can't drink an entire can of soda in one sitting, there's no way I'll be able to drink all of that.
I ended up drinking about half of it, and, just as I'd thought, I didn't even feel a buzz. (Clearly, I didn't have enough to do so, I hadn't planned to have that much.) Alex wants me to teach him to mix drinks when we get back from winter break since I'll have my certification in mixology by then. : o )
Anyway, after the guys had polished off their wine bottles, they decided to head out to the quad to smoke hookah for a while. I told them I'd join them outside (in the freezing cold, I might add) but wouldn't be smoking. Alex sent everyone out of the room to set up the hookahs and kept me inside for a talk.
Alex: Listen, Sam, I used to be just like you, very straight edge, I just wasn't interested in drinking or smoking, but I had some really good friends that I trusted that helped me ease into all of it and made sure I was safe. For example, do I seem totally wasted right no? No, because I'm not. I can be that person for you, I want to. You shouldn't be scared of this stuff.
Me: I'm not scared, *chuckled a little bit* I just like my lungs the way they are.
Alex: Haha, you're so cute, Sam. Let me tell you something, one cigarette won't kill you. Two cigarettes won't hurt you. Being addicted to cigarettes and smoking a pack a day, that'll kill you. Smoking hookah once a month won't hurt you at all. All that's in there is filtered tobacco and flavoring, no addictives, no chemicals, that's it.
Me: But you're still inhaling smoke.
Alex: You share the hookah with everyone else. You'll get five puffs at most and five puffs once a month really won't hurt you.
Me: Eh, what the hell?
Alex: There ya go, let's go catch up with everyone.
I've been curious about trying hookah for a while now. It wasn't really a peer pressured decision, rather, I trusted that, again, these were the guys to do it with.
There's a building on our quad called the Battelle Memorial Building. No one calls it that, of course, everyone refers to it as simply Battelle. The quad side entrance to the building is a set of doors underneath an overhead arch help up by columns (all stone, of course.) The boys discovered some time ago that the structure is an excellent place to set up a stereo. The architecture is an acoustic masterpiece, if that makes sense (ya, ya, I know it doesn't.) When Alex and I arrived, Adam had just finished setting up his computer, subwoofer and speakers. I can't begin to describe how amazing everything was. The sound of the music echoed brilliantly across the quad, Adam's sound system enhanced enhanced by the Battelle building. We smoked hookah, talked, danced (like Pagans around a fire, not "coherently,) and sang. I will forever associate the song "Two Points for Honesty" (by Guster) with the feeling I had standing on the top stair of the Battelle stoop, looking down at my friends...dancing, singing, smiling, and realizing that I'd been invited, welcomed to join them. It was magical in a way. Listen to the song, lol. It was amazing. Adam said it was the best send-off he could have had and thanked us all for being there with him. It was the definition of a bittersweet moment. Oh, and Mitch (the third of the triplets) kissed me. He insisted he knew what he was doing despite the fact that he was drunk...not sure what to make of that. I don't think it's anything.
Just think, these guys are just one of my groups of friends. I love AU.
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2:17 PM
...IT WAS ALL STARTED BY A MOUSE
Have you ever wanted something so badly that you almost (or do) cry at the mere thought of not or never having it? I have two such things, and they're consuming all of my thoughts.
Number one is, of course, Dennis. The very thought of what's happened, of knowing that I'll never be wrapped in his arms again, brings me to tears. I think, until I have at least some understanding of all of it, I'll continue to cry. I know I'll never get such an elucidation from Dennis.
Herein lies a problem. I deal with my problems by fixing them. I've always made sure that I have control of my life (I'm always aware of everything that is going on around me,) so that when something goes wrong, I can fix it. I mean anything. If I can do anything about a problem, I WILL. As such, nothing frustrates me more (and I'm mean nothing) than not having the capability (the option) to fix one of my problems. I don't know how to deal with them in any other way. For that reason, I'm having a really difficult time trying to get over Dennis. I have no control of him and, thus, I have no control of the situation. I'm dying. I'm stuck in this place because I don't know how to deal with all of this. I have no clue...I can't fix it so I don't know how to deal with it, how to move on.
In the past, I've dealt with such situations by keeping my mind off of them. For example, I kept myself extremely busy in high school to keep my mind off of family problems, my mom's cancer, the crappiness of my school, my health issues, etc. by running seven (that's right, seven) clubs, and keeping a steady job. I've found that when I'm not doing anything, I get depressed. With nothing to keep my mind occupied, I am left alone with myself; I am my own worst enemy. What ends up happening, basically, is that I'll start obsessing about whatever it is that's bothering me, which serves only to get me more depressed. I get no closer to closure. I've been doing as best I can, but as I mentioned in and earlier post, I have been ridiculously bored over the past few weeks...
In the last three days, I've clocked almost 20 hours at the front desk, 10 of which were served Friday(consecutively,) just so I would have something to do. I literally called my co-workers and asked them if I could work their shifts. No one complained. My logic was that I could either sit in my room and be bored (and start obsessing over some of my problems) or sit at the desk, have just enough to do, just enough interaction to keep my mind off of things, and get paid for it. Who'd choose the former?
At least now I can afford to buy holiday presents for my friends.
The second thing I've been thinking a lot about lately is what I want to major in...well, really, what I want to do...well, really, Walt Disney Imagineering:
I suppose I shall start with some basic psychoanalysis. I've always liked knowing how things work. When I was a kid, I used to take things around my house apart like the phone, the remote control, and my mom's kitchen timer. She wasn't too happy about that. Eventually, she bought me a kit that let me build my own things. I don't remember what it was called, but I remember what it looked like. The set was comprised of a bunch of clear plastic pieces that encased whatever you built with the rest of the items in the box: wires, an electric motor, wheels, gears, and small chains. It was cool. I built cars, lit light bulbs, etc...one time (completely without my mother's knowledge or permission) I tinkered with the phone until I got it to light up when it rang. I don't know why I did that, I was 7 or 8, I guess I just thought it would be fun.
That desire to understand how things work lent itself to fixing things, especially things around my house (which became a staple of my home life since my father is not only an awarding winning procrastinator, but also has a bad back and bad knees, my mother has cancer, arthritis, and carpal tunnel syndrome, and my sister would break a nail if she lifted a finger to do any work) It was my interest in understanding how things work and toying around with them that lead me to adopt the "fixer" emotional philosophy that I have. I understand myself fairly well and I handle my problems by fixing them.
Ok, so...back to Disney. When I was 15, my family took a vacation to Disney World. Each day, we went to one of Disney's theme parks, and each day, my parents and sister were ready to crash in the hotel room by 4:00 in the afternoon. Craving something to do on the second evening of our trip, I took a stroll from our hotel to Downtown Disney, a boardwalk built along some of Disney's waterfront property that houses numerous stores and restaurants. It's a cool place, lights up at night. Anyway, at the far end of Downtown Disney is a five floor, interactive, indoor theme park called Disney Quest. It's an amazing place. When you enter the building you're escorted into an elevator that takes you to the third floor, which is the main lobby, or central hub, of the park. On the way up, one of the walls on the inside of the elevator "disappears" revealing Genie, from Aladdin, instructing guests to keep their hands and arms inside the car at all times. Basically, Disney Quest is the indoor theme park that they advertise that it is. Its basic arcade games such as Cruisin' USA, virtual reality games, simulation rooms, and various arenas make it, in my opinion, the best arcade in the world. Its main attraction allows its guests to each design their rollercoaster and ride it in simulator.
Back to my story: While I was there, I met this guy named Matthew...the most cynical SOB I've ever met. His cynicism was actually the reason we began talking; I asked him how he could work for Disney (did I mention that he worked there?) and be as cynical as he was. His response was "People are stupid." Long story for a different day. Suffice to say that you know the world is going to hell in a handbasket when people (people, not a person) ask you, "Do these stairs go up?" But I digress.
Disney Quest stays open until 2:00AM every night, so I stayed and hung out with 19-year-old Matthew until closing, when I returned to the hotel. The next night, I again found myself bored by late afternoon, so I went back to Disney Quest. Long story short (I know, too late,) the place was particularly busy and Matthew found himself surrounded by a mob of people, all of whom needed directions. Having nothing better to do, I decided to help him and began dispensing the directions to increasingly aggravated guests. As it happened, Matthew's boss walked by as all of this was happening and was so impressed with me that he offered me a job on the spot. When I told him I was only going to be there for a few days, he handed me a staff shirt and pin and said "Have fun, kid." That's right; I got a job at Disney World while my family was there on vacation. To be honest, I'd done it before. (Mexico-age 7--'nother long story for a different day)
Only me.
Besides the time I spent wrapped snuggly in Dennis' arms, I've never been happier than I was while working at Disney...*sigh*
(Come to think of it, my first week here was pretty good as well, but it was because I was expecting to finally be challenged, I was actually making friends, and because I knew that the boy of my dreams would be joining me in D.C. only a few days later...while I did make friends (even though the people I hung out with the first week I was here aren't the people I'd consider "friends" now,) the other two are completely gone. I love my life. *Grits teeth,* yes I know, it could be worse.)
Ok, let's see if I can bring the Disney story back to my original point (see first sentence): Since working there, I've taken quite an interest in Disney, especially the theme parks. The history of the company and of the parks (both extremely innovative, by the way) interest me, but what really piques my interest is (big shock) how everything works. (Moment of understanding: "oh, I see the connection between the psychoanalytic stuff, Disney and the dream job: imagineering)
Sitting bored at the desk the other day, I stumbled across this website. It's a very informative, information rich site all about The Haunted Mansion in Disney World. I felt like I'd found the Holy Grail of imagineering. I already knew some general information about the ride and some of the special effects it employed, but this site...blueprints of the ride, patents Disney obtained for the special cars that carry guests through the attraction, pictures of the building from behind the scenes, sound recordings, a long history of the ride...I opened each link I came across in a new window so I could read the contents of each page one at a time. By the time I'd finished reading the first chapter of the history of the ride, I'd already opened 30 new internet explorer windows. 30! God, I am such a geek.
If you haven't gotten the point of the entire Disney story yet, its that the second thing that the very thought of never having brings me to tears, is imagineering. As I continued reading, tears started welling up in my eyes. It took me a minute to figure out why. I was overwhelmed with how much information I was taking in about the ways things that I was really interested in worked. I wanted, at that moment more than ever, so badly to be an imagineer...to be both scientific and creative...to make people smile.
C'mon, how cool would it be to design and maintain the rides at Disney World?!?!
Whoa...problem. Bad news: majoring in government, politics, and law isn't going help me become an imagineer. Good news: I'm hating government, politics, and law. Bad news: I have no idea if I'll like or be good at engineering and/or graphic arts and design (the majors I'd probably double in to pursue the imagineering thing.) Good news: since the very definition of engineering is "the application of science to the needs of humanity through knowledge, mathematics, and practical experience applied to the design of useful objects or processes," and I am a creative and scientific person, I think I would be good at it. On top of that, I have a genuine interest in both engineering and computer design, so who knows? Bad news: While American University is a very good school, it is not the best place to major in any kind of science (except biology, I hear we have a good biology department.) That means that if I like physics next semester, and whatever I take in the fall to accompany it, I would most like have to transfer, leaving being the dozens and dozens of amazing friends I've made here. : o (
I need to figure out what I want to major in. Everyone around me seems to believe that we have plenty of time to decide such things, or they already know what they want to do. I tell them that I don't have the luxury of time; I plan on double majoring (despite the fact that I don't yet know in what) and in order to do so, I must begin planning now, so I will be able to complete both majors over the course of the next four years.
Three months ago, everything was great. I was finally in a new place, I knew what I wanted to major in, what I wanted to do, and I was in an amazing long-term, committed relationship...incredible how one day can change your life so much...one fucking day.
Why do I put so much pressure on myself? I consider anything less than perfection a failure...I cry at the very thought of being unable to do something...
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2:42 AM
LMAO, I JUST HAD TO SHARE THIS...LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK
The following is supposedly an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid-term. The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well.
Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant.
One student, however, wrote the following:
First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different Religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell.
With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.
This gives two possibilities:
1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.
2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over. So which is it?
If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, "it will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you", and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number 2 must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct...leaving only Heaven thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting "Oh my God."
THIS STUDENT RECEIVED THE ONLY "A"
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1:31 PM
TRUE ORIGINALITY
Don't ask the questions that everyone else is too afraid to ask; ask the questions that no one else has thought to ask.
Just thought I'd get that out there.
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4:52 PM
I'VE ACCEPTED THAT MY LIFE IS THE WAY IT IS
I caved in and bought the glasses I've so desperately needed for months(granted, I caught, what I thought was, a break and got a good deal on them.) I had the glasses for just under three hours when Tom stepped on them. I didn't react...at all, it was almost as if I expected it. He reached down for them and offered them to me. I turned my head towards him slowly, still expressionless, and then glanced down at his outstretched hand. It was at that moment that he realized the "significance" of what he'd done. "Oh God, Sam, I'm so sorry. Those weren't the glasses you..." He trailed off slightly as I interjected a flat, "yup." Like I said, I almost expected it.
He was struggling to hold back a chuckle, he didn't hide it. "Ya, I know," I said grinning ever so subtly, barely noticeably, recognizing the bitter humor that is my life and the ridiculous amount of irony that permeates through it. "I'm sorry Sam," he said laughing. His attitude and tone were very similar to ones one might exude while recapping the events of the previous night's episode of a particular situational-comedy sitcom. "Ya," I sighed in response.
I've accepted that my life is the way it is, and was able to see the same humorous irony in the situation that Tom did. I started lightly laughing along with him. It was the definition of a bittersweet moment. I then proceeded to attempt to fix the glasses; they weren't beyond repair, but they'll still need to be taken back to the doctor's office.
The other day, I told Alex the story of my family's move from Texas to Connecticut. The story is one of my favorites, and one which I consider quite humorous. His response to it was, "that's depressing." If one of my few good memories is considered depressing by everyone else, what would my worst memories be to them? Jesus Christ.
I've started wondering if the mere possibility of having something better at some undetermined point in the future is worth continuing fighting this war...I know it is. I'll find my genius, my original idea, and the love of my life eventually.
I hate waiting.
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2:52 PM
THE DEATH OF MY INNER GENIUS
Of the ten class sessions I had this past week, I attended five. I'm so bored. I finished all of the work I needed to do this week on Tuesday, and spent the rest of the week desperately trying to find something to do, and someone to do it with. I hope it gets more difficult than this; I'm told it will, but only in the sense that I'll have a lot of work (30 page papers and such) to do. "Work" isn't anything. It takes time, but finding the time to do the work is the more difficult than doing the work itself.
I want to be challenged, I've never been freakin' challenged. I want to struggle to understand something. I want to have to exert effort. The work that I do, exerting minimal energy and effort, gets A's. I want to have to struggle to get a good grade. The only motivation I've ever had to do any work at all is my own passionate desire to learn.
For example, in Visual Literacy, we were assigned final presentations as opposed to a final exam. The first nine people to present did so this past Thursday. I am appalled by what the professor hails as extraordinary. I can conclude that there is no point for me to make my presentation any better than theirs, since I'll get as high a grade as I can by doing less than I could. There's a line from the movie, "The Incredibles," that I believe suits this scenario quite well: "When everyone is special, no one is."
It drives me crazy. When I complained about this in high school, my mother told me that an education is what you make of it. I can only do so much by myself. I could teach myself as much as I could about, say, chemistry, from books and the internet, but without the ability to perform experiments, how could I truly understand the material I'd read? I need someone to teach me for once.
I figured out the other day that this is why I'm getting bored with the study of government and politics, and thinking twice about majoring in it. What is comes down to is that I'm just reading. I'm memorizing information about the way the government functions, about elections, about what others have done, but there is very little analysis. I mean, I analyze what I'm learning by reguritating information and drawing a few comparisons, all of which have been made by countless others before me. Rephrasing someone else's ideas is not a challenge, nor original. I want to study something that I can use to come up with a truly original idea. If I studied physics and became a physicist, I'd be the one who discovered something revolutionary that no one else was even looking for. I know that I have more potential than this. I have a lot of potential.
The letter to no one that I posted a few days ago demanded an answer to the question, "why am I intelligent and have no passion with which to apply it?" I keep repeating that question to myself...over and over and over again. I'm looking for my calling...I'm looking for my original idea.
This is bringing me to the very edge of insanity. There is such a fine line between genius and insanity...I should erase the damn thing. I know that I'm not a genius nor a prodigy (I've always hated myself for this fact,) but maybe if I had a chance to explore my options, be encouraged to do something, I could be brilliant...I could discover my full potential and use it to do something truly extraordinary.
Having this little to do practically leaves me alone with my thoughts...I keep obsessing over this, among a handful of other things, and its starting to get to me.
I mustn't return to the woods. I refuse to.
I'm just not feeling very loved or taken care of, really. My parents love me so much that they yelled at me for asking if they'd buy the glasses I need, and while I have great friends, all of whom are willing to listen to me rant, and with whom I always have a great amount of fun, J still find myself selfishly craving attention. I'd like someone to do something nice for me. When my friend's stepfather died, I got a group of our other friends together and sent her a HUGE basket of junk-food. When another friend's grandmother died, I came to the wake. And when my mom had her most recent cancer surgery, you know what I got? Not even a phone call. The only person that was there for me was Dennis, who I barely saw for a well over month because I took on my mother's job (on top of studying for AP exams and running almost every club in the school) until she'd made a full recovery. I've made midnight ice cream runs for break-up emergencies, taken people to the hospital, done homework, cooked meals...I just wish someone would do something like that for me. There's a difference between asking someone if they're alright (and occasionally listening, which hasn't really happened either) and trying to make them feel better. Talk is cheap.
I know, that's selfish, I'm sorry. I don't do those kinds of things because I want or expect anything in return, I do them because I genuinely care. I shouldn't ask for anything. I've never had a boyfriend (or really, anyone else) who spoiled me; Dennis did some really nice things though. I didn't want him to spoil me, I told him having him was more than enough for me, I meant it...
I'd already bought Dennis his Christmas present when all of this started in October. I got him an Atari 2600 system, every accessory and almost every game ever made for it. It took me a lot of time to find it all; I spent quite a bit more money than I should have...all of the money I'd earned the last few months I'd worked at the drycleaners and most of the money I'd made babysitting over the summer. I knew he'd like it. I spoke to him today, briefly, to arrange a time when he could come over and pick up the jacket he left here a while back...I asked him if he was interested in purchasing the system from me...he was stunned and, for whatever reason (since he knows me and how well I know him,) very surprised that I knew he'd want it. He loved it.
Well, at least this way, I'll get the money I need to buy my glasses. (<-- Look at that, I've found the silver lining.)
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