How high, how steep?

If there's one thing my college campus does really, really well, it's incorporating the natural curves and hills of my region of California. To get to both of my classes, I have to hike up steep hills, or take the stairs up the same hills. I tend to take the ramps because I think they'll give me more exercise, which I need desperately. The ramp on the way to my math class is by the botany lab, and there are plants growing everywhere with little placards that state the name, genus, species and phylum of the plants/trees. There are these purple plants that smell heavenly, but no placard so boo botany lab. These ramps are actually really, really steep, and if I were in a wheelchair, I'd do some serious complaining because I don't see how someone could push themselves up those hills. Dang.

Anyway, I went hiking up last night, and I got to taste how out of shape you become after missing a scant week at the gym. I don't get it. It takes weeks, months, to build up your strength, and days to tear it down. I didn't even pretend like I was going to the gym last night because my cold has settled down into my chest which makes deep breathing rather difficult. Also, after a day at work, I feel like hell on toast. BUT, tonight I will be back in the gym. If I only manage 20 minutes, I won't get down on myself. I will celebrate the fact that I went and did it.

And then I might eat some veggie fajitas, con crema.

The Passholder Smugitude

On Saturday, my friend and I went to Disneyland in the evening specifically to see Fantasmic (or is it Phantasmic?). We, like a lot of people, got to the spot and set out our blanket. We sat down and talked and took turns shopping or getting food. We had snacks with us. Some lady came by and asked me what we were all waiting for. I told her. She asked when it started. I said 9:00. She looked at her watch and realized that what we were waiting for was four hours away. Naturally, she wanted to know if you really have to line up this early, and I shrugged and left it up to her. I mean, there's a reason we're all waitng here, you know? This couple was sitting on the other side of me. Apparently they thought what they were waiting for was coming soon, rather than just a few hours before the park closed. They asked if it was worth it. I tried to be as neutral as possible as I explained that, well, I live very close, and I have a season pass, so sitting around and waiting for a show is no big deal to me, but that if they are pressed for time, maybe it's something they can wait on until next time. I suggested the fireworks in front of the castle.

I'm thinking that next time I'm going to do what a lot of people did, and just leave my blanket on the ground and go off and do other stuff. I really wanted to ride Big Thunder because it's one of my favorites, and my friend really likes Indiana Jones the best. I was just worried that people would move our stuff around, but I have to say that no one really moved anyone's stuff or tried to steal territory. It's definitely a thought for next time.

After the show (SO not worth sitting on the ground for four hours, in my opinion), we went on Pirates because it was National Talk Like A Pirate day. As we were leaving, about 10:00 at night, this little kid behind us said that he was tired. My friend and I smiled at each other for a second because, yeah, even after sitting (and sometimes laying) on a blanket for four hours, we were tired. Then our mood turned sour when his mom shot back angrily with, "Well, you've been sitting in your stroller all day! I don't want to hear about it."

Happiest place on earth indeed.

Wow

Well, this week is almost over. I can't wait to watch Fringe tonight. I've been waiting for new episodes pretty much since it started. I love sci-fi, and Fringe is one of the first that really puts the "science," no matter how shaky, before the "fiction." Every episode holds a question and a puzzle, and I guess people said that about the show with the people stranded on the island, but I never got into that show. Anyway, I'm glad I get to watch Fringe tonight. I don't know what I'd do without TiVo. What did we do before TiVo? Oh, yeah. Video tapes. *cringe*

Anyway, I took my first math test this week, with a scantron and everything. And this was after missing a class, so part of the test was something I had only sort of peripherally figured out from reading the book and asking the teacher for an example before class started. I really hope I do well on the test. Really, really hope.

I do have a tutor now, a friend who subsidises her income tutoring. She really helped, and we went over all the areas where I make mistakes. Hopefully, I didn't make any of those mistakes this time.

Anyway, Disneyland this weekend. I think we're going to bring books and pretend to read when the cameras take pictures. No, that never gets old.

I've changed my mind...

My cold is really bad. It's a virgin that can't drive. It's trying to make orange the new pink. It's horrible and it can't spell good.

Argh!

I'm fine, really

So, Saturday night, I wasn't feeling too well, but I chalked it up to doing algebraic equations all day. I was supposed to go out with friends that night, but they weren't feeling well either, and we all came to the conclusion that we had colds. On Sunday, I went for a hike and then to church with a friend. When I got home, I fell asleep for five hours and then my mom woke me up, very apologetic, but I had stuff she really needed me to do, and when you live with your mom rent-free so that you can go to college, you do what she asks you to do. Yesterday, I stayed home from work. I should probably be there again today, but I have work to do (a lot of it that I can't motivate myself to do), and I've asked for tomorrow off so that I can go to some appointments, so I couldn't stay home and feel good about it. Luckily, I have a new boss, and he's pretty cool about just leaving us be. As long as we get our work done, he's happy.

Anyway, I'm okay. I get waves of not feeling well, but it's not a persistent thing like it was yesterday. Currently, I'm chewing on a piece of Pan Dulce, one of the perks of living and working in a predominantly Hispanic neighborhood.

Tomorrow is my dad's birthday. I haven't sent him a card yet, so I'd better do that tonight.

Deflated hopes

So, I took a quiz in Algebra last week. I was really hopeful because I had been paying attention so well and doing my homework and taking notes...but I got a really bad grade. I would say it was probably a C-, depending on how she grades (curve, straight, etc.).

I was so very, very disappointed. I really thought that hard work and application could help me, but I just have no aptitude for math. Or maybe I'm a panicky test taker. If I check my answers in the back of my book, they're generally correct. If they're not, then I can figure out what I did wrong...

I'm just scared. Math and science are the two major components of getting a degree in Zoology and Animal Sciences. It's called a "Bachelor of Science" degree for a reason, yo.

My friend is going to come over and help me out. She's a professional math tutor and whatever she charges, it's worth it if she can help me. Maybe I rush through things. Maybe I overthink it. All I know is that if my GPA isn't as close to 4.0 as possible, I can pretty much kiss my hopes and dreams goodbye. :-(

Jane Austen Rules

Last night, I had my composition class. I'm supposed to write a definition essay about something that is difficult to define and therefore subjective, like love or support, or in my case, finding entertainment from something that is not entertaining. For reference, and to give her a bit of background on loving to hate something, I gave my professor a few examples of websites that capitalize on this idea, like cake wrecks and go fug yourself, and of course, Smart Bitches, Trashy Books. She sort of tried to talk me out of writing the paper, but then conceded and recommended that I check out the psychology section of the Library and look up morbidity. She then suggested that if I really like trashy romance novels, I should try reading Jane Austen.

In her words: You should try Jane Austen. Her books are older, but they're good, and they're in the romance genre.

I must have been looking at her like she had lobsters crawling out of her ears. Jane Austen? Is she kidding me? Am I a single woman over the age of thirty? Of COURSE I've heard of Jane Austen. I've practically memorized Pride and Prejudice, and my favorite book pretty much ever is Emma. One of my friends pointed out that we're still in the "get to know you" phase, and I realize that and will cut her some slack, but oh my heavens, since when is Jane Austen a bodice-ripper?

Now I want to read Persuasion again. Dang.

I don't always have to post about college, do I?

Last night, one of my friends said that he doesn't think parents understand how much power they have over their children, and how much their opinion means to their children. He has a father who sounds very...well, narcissistic might be a very strong word, but I've been reading about narcissistic parents through morbid curiosity, and the things my friend was describing are very keeping with narcissism. Because he, my friend, is doing things that his father doesn't agree with, his father is withholding rewards, or love and affection, and no matter what, my friend feels that he is wrong, and that he needs to apologize. He is defensive.

I wish my friend's dad could really see my friend the way he is. He is someone to be proud of. He is responsible, a homeowner, a teacher, and he has a heart that is so beautiful and loving, he almost seems unreal. He is a people pleaser because he's spent so much time trying to please this unpleasable person, and I wish I could show him the image that we, his friends, see of him so that he no longer sees himself skewed by this man.

But I can't because this man is his father, and let's face it: the entire world can think you're Superman, but if your dad looks at you like you're Gollum, you will always feel like you're Gollum.

Parents don't understand the power they have over their children. They don't see how their opinions affect us.

I met a girl the other day who was going to college for the exact same thing that I am (hey, I worked it in!), and she asked me if my parents were upset that I won't be making as much money as if I became a full-fledged veterinarian. I told her that my parents would rather have me making less money, but being happier than making more money and miserable. She smiled sadly and said she wished her parents would feel that way, too. They want her to be a lawyer or a human doctor. I laughed and reminded her that human doctors aren't rich anymore, and that she's better being a veterinarian. She thanked me for reminding her about that, but I know it has to hurt.

My dad still sees me as an immature little girl. Not a teenager, but a little girl. He will acknowledge that I'm thirty, but if you ask him about my tastes and hobbies, he'll mention the things I did at the age of five or eight. How do you grow up when one of your parents is convinced that you are a little girl?