Memory Lane

We went through The City, by car and on foot, Mother and Sis and Bro and I. For Sis and Bro, it was the first time since we moved away, when Bro was only six and Sis eight, that they went back to places they'd known.

The rush of memory--the discovery of places almost forgotten--the feeling was magical.

It was here that we found our first garden spider, all black and yellow and big as your hand--right here, by that stone bridge. Here, there was a dead 'possum, and it left a skeleton--do you remember? Here is the school, how small it seems! And here the Original House--the Blue House. It is not as blue as before, and the fence is gone, but it looks homey as ever--you can still see the mesquite tree in the backyard if you look hard enough. And here! The Yellow House--it hasn't changed a bit--we could have left yesterday. Look, here is the house of our first friends--we met them on the playground, remember? We barely spoke English, but it was so easy to make friends! Here is the magnolia tree, about to bloom. And here is that restaurant, the one you copied for your model in second grade and then gave to the owner. Do they still have it? We should ask.

Eggs Benedict and Florentine, just like the last time we were here. Do you remember? We could barely walk home after all that food!

Crossing the river by night--you never realized there were so many buildings, and that they were so tall! The lights reflect in the river, forming a blurred image. The car windows are open--the Texas smell flows in. Summer--sweet, sticky, potent. The bats chirp and flap as they fly under the bridge.

City, I had forgotten you.

Unpacking

Vacation is over, I'm back to work.

I am sleeping tonight, for the very first time, in my own apartment. My very own apartment.

Starting tomorrow, it's me and the world out there.

We'll see how I manage.

***

Sorry for the lapse in posting, I was taking a break and slept for nearly a week. Or spent most of the week sleeping, anyway, which is more or less the same thing. I'll start writing regularly again. I missed blogging.

The beginning of summer

Where to begin?

I could talk about the very chocolatey cake Bro and I baked this afternoon.

I could talk about his experiments mixing Texan Soft Drink and instant cocoa powder.

I could talk about the cheese fondue there will be for dinner.

I could talk about chasing the Dastardly White Rabbit around the yard five times and not catching him.

I could talk about The Boy finally being back in the City, and the eight days until I see him again.

I could talk about the lovely dinner I had with all of my best friends from City Back Home a couple of days ago.

I could talk about playing computer games for hours on end.

I could talk about finally reading the books I hadn't had a chance to read yet but wanted to.

I could talk about sleeping in.

I could talk about the almost unbearably hot weather.

I could talk about the plans for Sis' approaching birthday party.

I could talk about Friend Who Likes Science-Fiction's unexpected birthday present.

Or I could talk about long phone calls on the back porch with the cicadas and fireflies and blooming jasmine.

But instead I will just say that I am having a very nice time.

***

Thank you so very much for all of the kind words. I'll cheerfully keep trucking on and enjoy my summer no matter what happens!

***

I have a lot of blog reading to catch up on, I haven't read any since Wednesday!

The End of the World, Possibly

Here's the reason the past few days were slightly rocky:

I was studying for Ochem in the library with Sometimes Friend and one of his acquaintances when he asked me how I did on the Biology final. I checked the online gradebook.

And received a punch in the gut.

My grade for the class was a B. That's impossible, I thought to myself. I only needed a 72 on the final to get an A. I scrolled down the page.

68.

I collapsed. As much as I tried to stop myself, tears started running down my face. Here I was, on the most crowded floor of the library, with two bewildered boys who had no idea what to do with the sobbing and sniffling girl who, seconds before, was discussing aldols.

The night was still young, but I didn't feel like I could go on. I packed up my stuff and left.

I barely made it to my room before I collapsed crying on my bed. Hysterical sobs, the bad kind, the kind that leave no room for breathing and make your nose run, the kind I hadn't had for almost a year.

I knew I cared about Biology, but not to the point that it could make me physically sick.

The grade hung like a hunk of rotten meat in my stomach, sending a wave of nausea every time I moved.

Failing exams is not something that happens to me. Especially not in Biology. I knew the answers to all of the questions, I could have explained and taught all of those principles to a roomful of inattentive five-year-olds in my sleep, I could have drawn a thousand diagrams with my eyes closed.

But I got a 68.

There's nothing like failing the final in your best subject to kill your self-confidence. Nothing like having your ego chewed up into a million pieces and shoved back to your face.

The Boy, miraculously, was online and not busy at the precise moment I decided to turn to the internet for someone to talk to. Breathe. Calm down. I'm here. Slowly, ever so slowly, I regained the ability to think, to talk. He soothed me, drew out enough of the anxiety that I was able to settle and study for a couple of hours. He gave me enough confidence that I could face the final in the morning.

Since then, the panic has subsided. I talked to the professor and have come to accept the fact that it cannot be changed. I took some solace in the fact that the class average was a 61. When I left her office, the nausea was gone. A slight discomfort remains, yes, but that cannot be avoided.

I know that in the long run, grades do not matter as much as I think, as we are made to think they do. In any case, a B is not so terrible.

But I liked my almost-perfect record.

My day with the Beatles

0:47 - It's been a hard day's night, and I've been working like a dog
Pack pack pack pack pack. Consider joining a monastery. That way I might at least end up with a nice car to carry all that stuff?

10:03 - Help! I need somebody, help!
So much cleaning to do. I had no idea that drawer even opened, and now I have to clean the dust out of it. Need to finish packing

11:22 - She got a ticket to ride, and she don't care
Take the bus to End Of The Road, sign apartment lease (finally! I have somewhere to live this summer!)

12:15 - With a little help from my friends
Parents arrive early, are surprisingly willing to help packing/cleaning.

2:11 - 4:48 - I'm on my way home, I'm on my way home, I'm going home
Jammed in the car between boxes and cleaning supplies, I fall asleep listening to All Things Considered.

5:06 - Wait just a minute Mister Postman
Check mailbox out of habit (I love snail mail). Found a graduation invitation to Paperback Writer Friend's graduation.

8:27 - Picture yourself on a boat on a river, with tangerine trees and marmalade skies
No boat, no river, no tangerines, no marmalade, but chair, home, peaches, chestnut spread, and the first cicada of summer.

Packrat

I am filling boxes with stuff. Stuff I'd almost forgotten I owned. I did not know I had so much stuff.

I think I might become a monk. They have less stuff.

Final stretch

Soon, everything will be over.

I won't have to worry about studying.

I won't have to worry about grades.

I won't have to worry about GPA.

And I'll forget about how horrible tonight was and that I hadn't cried so much since last summer.

Because this year will be over, it will be summer, and life will go on.

Alea jacta est.

Noah's Ark My shoes

Dear Person Who Invented Saturday Morning Final Exams,

I hope a crocodile eats your face.

Love,

The Archduchess

***

In other news, it started raining and thundering four fifths of the way through the exam. I hoped it would stop before the end, as I had forgotten my umbrella.

It didn't.

I made my way home from Ridiculously Tall Science Building barefoot, my sandals utterly useless in the two inches of water covering the ground.

The first thing I did when I got to my room was put my clothes in the sink. They were so wet that opening the faucet would possibly have made them drier.

I am now sitting here on my bed, with no roommate, eating leftover chinese food and cookies warmed up in the microwave, and only one more exam on my list.

This could be a pretty good day.

No. 2 baby

Tomorrow morning, I will wake up at some ungodly hour before dawn and take my Biostatistics final from 9:00 until 12:00.

***

Roommate is leaving at some time before 12:00. It's probable that she won't wake up before I leave.

Strange to think that the person I've lived with for an entire year will disappear out of my life, just like that. Despite the rough ride, I think I might miss her.

Won't miss the snoring, though.

Reaching Nirvana

You know what I really hate?

Those suggested readings at the bottom of posts. It must be Google's magic, but there is always at least one of the three with a title or picture that catches my attention. Before I even notice it, dozens of tabs are sitting in my toolbar, eagerly waiting to be read. Meanwhile, the minutes are ticking away on the clock, munching up the precious time I could have better spend doing... Doing what?

Oh, who am I kidding? I love the internet. I love blogging. I love reading blogs, I love finding blogs, I love going back through archives to read what I've missed, I love the humor and seriousness and humanity. I love reading slices of people's lives and realizing that we are all very similar the world over.

For the last seminar of the year, Man In Charge talked to us about achieving inner peace. About finding balance and accepting oneself.

As he talked, I thought about what I'd done so far. Inner peace was something I had been looking for, and had begun my journey towards.

When I moved to college, I decided to make peace with myself. To wipe the slate clean and begin building my adult world constructively.

Through the people I've met, the people I've re-met, the people I knew, the people I recreated positive relationships with, I've grown a lot.

The most important aspect of my travel, though, has been this blog. I've had somewhere to put my thought down, somewhere to argue logically, somewhere to rant illogically, somewhere to put my thoughts out to the world, somewhere to make peace with myself.

I haven't made it there yet. It's possible I may never make it. There are still things to be thought about, things to be pulled out of dark corners, things to be faced and dealt with... But I'm enjoying the journey. I'm enjoying the cleaning out of the cobwebby corners of my mind and the discourse with both myself and the wonderful and patient interlocutors I've come to meet during my travels.

How did all of this get started? Yesterday, I clicked a link at the bottom of one of julochka's posts, read the other post, clicked on another link, and decided that I've been thinking along the same lines--a slightly different kind of blogging, I am not a news columnist, but the same reasoning applies.

Blogging can help you reach Nirvana? Who would've thunk?

On studying

The finals craze has finally begun. Students everywhere sport dark circles under their eyes, walk hunched under the weight of books and notes, gather in little groups in every available corner to discuss principles, formulae, and philosophers in hushed tones.

Today, I woke up at 9:30, took a nice cool shower, hopped on a bus to the other side of town, spent two hours trying to find an apartment, had a late lunch, caught up on reading blogs, and eventually headed over to the library for a study session with classmates from my Genetics class for two hours.

That was the first studying I'd done for the exam, and likely the only I will do.

You see, I've never been much of one for studying. Hours and hours of burning the midnight oil, squinting at undecipherable handwritten notes just doesn't appeal to me. I don't feel the need to learn in a night what ought to have been learned in a semester. The secret? I learned it during that semester.

I laugh at the premeds who draw up study schedules and brag about how many hours they've been studying (It's also because I take most any chance I get to laugh at premeds. I don't really like them.). They think it's a badge of honor. I think it's madness.

I get better grades than them, too.

(Hm, and I also have a really intuitive grasp of anything Biology, which helps just a bit.)
(I'm also really modest about it. Can you tell?)

Side effects

Supposedly may include drowsiness, but the only thing this cough syrup has given me is the urge to burst into song and dance in the middle of a busy intersection.

I'm not quite sure this was supposed to happen...

Verdict

Accute bronchitis.

Not obtuse, not adorable, but accute.

It took the doctor five minutes to reach that verdict, and me four hours of wheezing at nurses and looking like I was on my deathbed to see her at all.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go to bed now. (Running tally of sleep I've had this weekend? 30 hours.)

Naptime

I very rarely nap, except when I am sick.

I took a two-hour nap today.

Self-diagnostic: swine flu, the Black Plague, and consumption.

Scaling up

This morning started very, very early. It started at the end of last, night, actually. The calendar rolled around and I was still up, writing my paper. I went to bed and woke up a mere six hours later, to find my drunk and giddy roommate stumbling into the room after a sleepless night.

Two hours and fifteen minutes later, I was home.

Two hours and eighteen minutes later, I was running in the backyard after a white rabbit with white ears. The Beast was finally cornered and Dad grabbed him by the skin of his back. The little bugger had been eating our strawberries through the fence and eaten the very first figs we'd gotten from the little tree in addition to increasing rabbit populations in the park behind the house. Dad, farm-raised and well-practiced in the matter, took him to the shed to finish the job and provide prime stew material, but Very Smart Neighbor, who is a very sweet and compassionate girl (as well as a vegetarian), burst into tears. Dad tried to explain that it was the only way to deal with it, as this was clearly a rabbit that had been relieved of duty as someone's pet (or a descendant of one) and was a danger to native wildlife as well as a garden pest (not to mention a potentially delicious stew). No matter, she was inconsolable. Dad, though a gruff caveman most of the time, is not a monster and asked her what she would rather do with it. She said she would keep it as a pet. Dad, squirming rabbit in hand, went over to their backyard and knocked at the door. Very Smart Neighbor's father emerged and accepted the extra pet. After The Beast was secured in a metal tub with a screen on top, two grownups and three ecstatic kids piled into a car toward the home improvement store to buy chicken wire for a suitable enclosure.

Meanwhile, Mother and I had lunch, battled with the car (which has a grumpy disposition and does not like to start until it has been thoroughly cajoled and/or offered the blood of five hundred virgins in sacrifice) and headed to a church on the other side of town. There, we sat down and opened our ears for the recital of Beautiful Music Friend.

I have mentioned before how talented a musician she was. The thing is, I hadn't heard her play since last May. From the very first notes, I was chastised. Her music was not wonderful, it was beyond words. In a year, she had improved so much, her technique perfected, her sound enriched... I cannot even begin to imagine what she will be like after a year at a conservatory.

She played four pieces, Sonata in G minor (or Devil's Trill) by Tartini, Sonata no. 3 à George Enesco by Ysaÿe, Sonata no. 3 in C minor, op 45 by Grieg, and Ziegeunerweisen by Sarasate. My favorite was the Ysaÿe, then Sarasate, then Tartini (although I really liked both of them), and finally Grieg. I do not like Grieg very much (this is one of the main point on which Mother and I disagree, he is her favorite composer). I knew I'd heard Ziegeunerweisen before, and was struck halfway through when I remembered that Itzhak Perlman played it at the concert*.

Afterwards, my friends and I went to a fancy-ish restaurant (Quote Bookish Friend: "When the New York Times comes to town, that's where they eat."), then to a fancier restaurant/bakery for dessert. We were sat down at a large round table and brought a silver platter of desserts to choose from. I had a chocolate truffle, which I'd had before at a coffee shop (they are so famous around town that the chef is in rather high demand). As always, the hot, melty truffle was bliss personified (chocolatified?). The feeling all around the table was the same.

Some days go downhill, and some end up on Cloud Nine. This was one of the good ones.

***

Scriptor Senex, I'm sorry I never got down to telling you what the concert was. I wrote it down for you but never posted it.

He played Handel's Violin Sonata No. 13 in D Major, Franck's Sonata for Violin & Piano in A Major, Messiaen's Theme and Variations for violin & piano (those three were listed on the program) and many other works he picked onstage, including several Kreisler arrangements of other composers' pieces (one of them Corelli), Ziegeunerweisen by Sarasate, the theme from Schindler's List, and a brilliant (and breathtaking) finish with a piece from a composer whose name I have unfortunately forgotten (but may have had something to do with Goblins).

Lifesaver

For several hours now, I have been trying to write my final research paper. Unsuccessfully.

I have scanned in twenty pages of my lab notebook, annotated dozens of pictures of electrophoresis gels, and written two pages of scientific background. But, for some reason, I can't bring myself to write the actual paper. I can't concentrate.

The paper is due tomorrow by 17:00. Tomorrow, we are leaving at 9:00 to go home so that we may attend my yet nameless friend's recital. I am not sure that I will be able to access Internet before the deadline, so I am attempting to turn in this paper before we leave.

For the past thirty minutes, I have been on the verge of tears. I know that this paper will not be graded very thoroughly, because my grades so far have been stellar, I know exactly what I am talking about, and the professor is too lazy to go in detail through every paper. And yet...

Five minutes ago, my phone rang. Fiery Comedian Friend wanted me to meet her in the lobby of my dorm for a few minutes. I was surprised, as she knew I was working on my paper and should not be disturbed. She insisted, saying that it was important.

I took the elevator downstairs and walked through the doors. Immediately, I was greeted with a massive hug. She handed me a paper bag and a bottle of milk.

"I got you cookies and milk to help with the paper!"

I burst into tears and hugged her.

She understood perfectly. "During my first year, one of my friends brought me milk and cookies during finals week. I figured you could use the same thing."

She is graduating in a week and has no finals to worry about. This small act of love and kindness may have saved my grade and my wits.

I am so very grateful for friends.

***

Speaking of which, thank you so much for the encouragements!


So here is a picture of a wandering turtle I took some time ago.

Once again...

I cannot get over how good that movie is.

Of course, we dressed up. And were the only people dressed up. During the preshow, the Emcee mentioned us ("All those pretty girls in Star Trek costumes sitting in the second row") and picked me to play the captain in a short improv rendition of the Kobayashi Maru. While it was by no means stellar, I had fun and got a couple laughs out of the audience.

And then the movie, my god, the movie.

Just every bit as breathtaking as before.

I recommend it, so, so much. You will enjoy it. The shots are just spectacular, and although I can now spot some weaknesses, the overall movie is so incredibly wonderful and well-done that it doesn't matter.

(And I realize that I now sound like Friend Who Likes Science Fiction. Her style and enthusiasm are so easy to pick up!)

Not quite the day I expected

Tonight was supposed to be another Star Trek movie night, with a special showing of "Wrath of Khan" at Local Theater (Paramount decided to give us an actual showing after last month's "disappointment"). We had all been looking forward to it for weeks.

Tonight, however, Crazy Redhead Mathematically-Inclined Friend announced that she really ought to catch up on the work she missed due to sickness last week, which put a damper on everyone's spirits. When she learned the news, Friend Who Likes Science Fiction realized that maybe she ought to get a good night's sleep before her Chemistry exam tomorrow. Halfheartedly, everyone else admitted that they ought to do homework and studying too.

So we are not going.

Instead, we are going to watch it on someone's computer Friday after classes end. It won't be the same as seeing it on the big screen, but at least we'll have seen the movie. And, if Friend Who Likes Science Fiction's plan works out, we can lobby for it to be a part of the Classics Series of Late-Night Movies at Student Building (with the new movie in the Blockbuster Series that same week). Who knows, it might work?

I really shouldn't complain, though. We are, for real, going to see the release of the movie tomorrow and then next Sunday at the IMAX theater for Crazy Redhead Mathematically-Inclined Friend's birthday. Three times in a month and a half, pretty decent, wouldn't you think?

It seems rather excessive for just a movie, but this is not just "a" movie. It's culture (sci-fi, granted, but culture nonetheless), the stuff of several generations. The new movie is excellent in both technique and story, and the older ones, although they often have ridiculous acting, are very enjoyable and provide interesting insights/commentary about people in general (Side note: I feel like I'm writing an essay for an English class...).

***

Anyway, instead of being at the movies, I am sitting in front of my computer feeling slightly miserable, dreading the cough that I feel coming on and the next fews days of hell it will give me, drinking herbal tea, vitamin supplements, and orange juice to help it go as fast as possible, and answering thousands of ads for apartments for this summer.

And, of course, studying. (No progress yet on the packing.)

The end is near

Classes end Friday.

I am going home this weekend until Tuesday for an extended weekend.

And then I will come back here and sit my finals until the 18th.

And then I will have about a week of summer until I come back to the University and do research eight hours a day for two months.

So... close... to summer...

***

To do:

-study
-pack
-find an apartment for the summer
-pack
-study
-pack
-clean room
-study
-find lab for next semester
-pack
-organize lab tours for Geeky Science Organization for next semester
-study
-sleep (optional)

Time warp

Memories have a way of pouncing on you when you least expect it.

I was hunting around aimlessly on Facebook and discovered that many of the people I went to elementary school with had accounts.

I tend to be one of those people with freakishly good memory who remembers everyone's first and last names. I don't know if they remember me at all.

I haven't seen most of them since I moved away in 2001, and any of them at all since I moved away again in 2004. They, on the other hand, went to middle and high school together, and some are now even attending the same Universities.

Whenever I go home, I will attempt to find all of my class photographs.

I don't know where I'll go from there.

All that and a Tchaikovsky concerto

What I thought would only be a very busy day turned out to be a daylong party.

The Festival was exhausting, but pretty crafts, abundant (if rather expensive) food, a petting zoo, and tons of free stuff made it worthwhile.

After only two hours, Fiery Comedian Friend and I were collapsed on the sidewalk, defeated by the heat, humidity, and general hubbub. We went home.

Two hours later, I took the bus to Friend With Killer Fashion Sense's house and ran into Unlikely Buddy on the stairs. Only seven people were there, which was a boon as the apartment was not too big. Friend With Killer Fashion Sense had prepared enough food to feed an entire infantry and have leftovers. Almost everything had feta in it, and all of it was delicious. I had to leave early, so she gave me some homemade cheesecake in a bag.

The bus arrived just in time, seconds before the downpour. Once it arrived near the concert hall, the rain had stopped. Through the second coincidence of the evening, Childish Booksmart Friend and Tiny Russian Friend were both crossing the street at that precise moment, so we all headed together to the concert hall.

The first half was a Tchaikovski violin concerto. The soloist was unbelievably talented, you could almost hear the rise of eyebrows as veteran music connoisseurs were taken by surprise. She swayed like a dancer with her music, notes rising like a bird to the roof of the massive room. Standing ovation.

The second half was Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. The maestro took the time, before beginning, to explain why it was, in his opinion, the greatest work ever written. Though I disagree with him, the performance was quite good. After two encores of the finale, the choir was understandably out of breath.

After congratulating Internet-Savvy Friend, Childish Booksmart Friend and I headed to Friend Who Likes Science Fiction's room for a late-night movie. For the next three hours, we watched "Star Trek: The Motion Picture," which was in my opinion entirely too similar to "2001: A Space Odyssey" for comfort. Although it wasn't bad, it was too stretched out, and dramatic vistas of starships alone, if condensed to slightly above the bare minimum, could have shortened the movie by a full hour. But I did like the ending, got to make 2001 references, and poke fun at the ridiculous amount of facial hair on various actors, so it was a pleasant evening.

***

And my Biostats group is even finished with the project over 15 hours before the deadline! The paper is 19 pages long and actually halfway decent. I am impressed.

Eleven o' clock and all is well

Today is a semi-beautiful day, a bit cloudy and undoubtedly fiendishly muggy once I set foot outside, but for now the sun, in a rare display of affection, is bursting through the clouds to brighten the balistraria that is our window and project stripes of light on my--as always--snoring roommate.

I am going with Fiery Comedian Friend to an arts and crafts and music festival on the street formerly known as Frequently Mispronounced Native Tree Nut Street.

Later, I am invited to Friend With Killer Fashion Sense's house for an evening of delicious Greek food before she leaves for a year abroad in Italy.

And right after that, I am meeting all of my friends for Internet-Savvy Friend's performance in Beethoven's Ninth Symphony.

This will be quite a good day!

Swine flu, Whine flu

Prevention posters are spreading faster than the virus itself. They are plastered every three feet over every available surface.

It is now required to wear a mask when entering Medical Building, just in case.

Person Who Sneezes Loudly sneezed again in Ochem today, several people yelled out "swine flu!" and the entire class started laughing.

There have not been any reported cases since the first one several days ago.

It's all (mostly) just a big, big hype.

Crazy Redhead Mathematically-Inclined Friend, Friend Who Likes Science-Fiction, and Friend With Many Pairs of Sunglasses are all sick. Not the flu, no, just a nasty cold. We have established a minimal-contact rule to minimize sickness, even though Bookish Friend is sure to get it in a couple of days at the most. I haven't touched another human being in three days. I miss hugs...

Do you have swine flu?

***

Childish Booksmart Friend had to turn in a paper at 17:00 today, I ran into her (figuratively) on the street as she was running (literally) to the professor's office at 16:57. We ran together and passed at least four other people who were running to various destinations with term papers in their hands. Ah, deadlines, deadlines...