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Dec. 25th, 2005 @ 11:47 pm AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! CARLETON!!
So about me, where does one start? More than three months have passed, my first college trimester has been finished a heck of a long time ago. Well, for one thing, Minnesota is not that cold. Zero degrees here feels exactly like 30 degrees there; the lack of moisture is key. Trust me, I know what zero degrees feels like now. Last week, it hit negative 5, I admit that’s when it felt a bit ‘nippy.’ But today it shot back up to 14 and it was great! I had my coat open and everything!

Before I really get down to the nitty-gritty here at the “Harvard of the Midwest,” I want to state my favorite quote from talking to her in the hall last week, my favorite prof, Cindy Blaha, Astronomy Professor:

"They should sell these in stores! They can be called 'Big Bang Balloons!'"
-Cindy, innocently not realizing what a . . . not good name that is for her rubber model of the universe's constant expansion.

I figured this quote would be a good introduction of how amazing and down-to-earth my professors are. I have been here for 3 months, yet I have been to about 6 professors’ houses already for dinner. Peter Balaam, my English prof with a PhD from Princeton, invited me for Thanksgiving dinner with his wife and kids. After eating a fantastic home-cooked meal (there’s nothing like a man who can cook), I watched him play Zorro with his six-year-old son, die a dramatic death courtesy of a light-saber, and be brought back to life by tickling. Only at Carleton would I witness that. My dinner at Cindy’s with my Science Scholars’ group consisted of us talking about our favorite random Carleton streaking moments. No one is zanier than my profs.

Speaking of profs, classes here aren’t that bad. I mean, there is tons of work and they expect a lot from you, but really for me, it was nothing but time-management problems. I love to procrastinate, and I really didn’t put a lot of effort this term, admittingly. Cindy and Peter kept telling me: “You would have gotten an “A” but. . .” or “you have such an amazing analytical mind, however. . .” Good thing these classes were “scrunched” and I’m not graded for them, because like I said, I really didn’t put a lot of effort into it. Losing homework is bad too. Because as we all now, “B’s” suck. But according to Cindy, "BBB’s" are cool. ;)

I was a little pre-occupied this term, with good reason. I’m in a new state, cheesesteak-less, Tastykate-less, and Strohman-less. Malt-O-Meal, a fake General Mills runs this land (I do like the smell of Brownies in air though). No "ac-a-mes," no Shoprite (I can hear Dumsha crying at this moment), just a Econofoods and Cub Foods. I had to get used to “You bet” (the new generation of “You betcha”), “Good deal,” “Ja!” “Noooooooo!” "Yup" instead of "You're Welcome" and “I s’pose” in a month's span. And you thought Philly-slang was bad. I would kill to hear someone say "jawn" or "You Hype!!" or "Yo!" other than me. My roommate tries, but that's only because she wants to be "black by osmosis." Keep in mind she's from the woods. Literally.

I had to get used to people who were disturbingly nice, kids who enjoyed learning (and complaining) and the money they had that helped them enjoy learning, and passionate, passionate professors who love teaching. There’s nothing funnier and sweeter than watching Cindy’s eyes get big while explaining to me the orbits of elliptical and spiral clusters, a silly, motherly grin etched on her face. I love hearing that thick “Mina-sooo-ten” accent come from her mouth and trying not to laugh. “Da Moooon.” Hehe. “Mooooon.” And forever live the joke-of-the-day! Knowing she’s married to a rocket scientist takes the cake. She’s LITERALLY MARRIED TO A ROCKET SCIENTIST. Who knew they ACTUALLY EXISTED?

Work is nothing more than annoying, ok, I’m exaggerating. I worked 10.5 hours a week last term, though first-years aren’t allowed to work more than 8. It’s a tad bit scary to work a 500-degree oven in the Burton dining hall when surviving on 3 hours of sleep. It’s a little on the disgusting side to go class smelling like Burton threw up on me after working in the dishroom, throwing away people’s waste. But the worst thing is watching kids’ applications come in the Admissions office. How the hell some kid took 10 AP classes in their junior year? But man, I love having money.

The thing is I love trimesters. I get fidgety. Ten weeks is enough for me, and in the rare is case it isn’t, I can always come by their office and just chill and learn some more. Why the hell should I be afraid of Professors; just because they have PhD’s and teach classes with the books they wrote does not make them "unapproachable." I like having only three classes, as my brain would explode simply thinking about having more. My six-week break started the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, and ends January 4. That’s such a wonderful, beautiful break, since it’s really mind-draining here. Really.

But my break was cut short this time, as I was accepted into the Science Scholars Program for two weeks. That was easily the most mind-draining program I have ever done, yet I have a trimester of Carleton under my belt. I mean it was crazy, from 8am to about 10pm I worked on improving my science skills, with the same damn 14 people (ten minority girls, two profs, 2 TAs). I did 2 hours worth of homework a night for "practice." Sure the food was great, sampling of the restaurants in Northfield was fun, playing with gadgets and machine was amazing. But after a while I wanted to die all over my homework. I got a stipend to work with a prof (Mary Savina, Geo prof) on a side project incorperated into the program, during the day. We had to figure out if one of the building halls was a “cancer cluster.” Our work is getting turned into a talk for winter term. Good times. And I got to meet four more amazing profs, Bereket (a crazy, passionate geologist from Ethiopia who claims that "machines only love people with accents"), Dani (a blunt, funny, accented Russian-Argentinean Chemist with the cutest kids ever), Sarah (A bio prof who reminds me of Miller, dunno why) and Amy (Computer Science prof who looks like Madonna, well, if you look at her at the right angle). I got to listen to several other profs talk about their really cool research on the side. Claire, a senior Biology major, is officially my mom. She helps me put on my mittens and cuts my cheesecake. Actually she was just my favorite TA in the program, the one I loved to annoy and sneak up to at the snack bar and make her drop stuff. I love Claire. Even when she almost killed me.

That’s the minimal update here, and that isn’t even one-quarter of it, let alone half. I didn’t even tell about my roommate, but that would be another two pages, because that’s how awesome she is. NERD!! Sorry, that was a reflex that happens when I mention her.

PS: THANK YOU DR. GALLO!!!!!!!!! If it wasnt for him, I would have HAD A HORRIBLE TIME IN ASTRO. Astro requires basically EVERY SCIENCE EVER MADE, ESPECIALLY CHEM AND PHYSICS! Most of the basic stuff I learned from Gallo.
About this Entry
Sep. 2nd, 2005 @ 09:45 pm (no subject)
the Shock Jock
(57% dark, 50% spontaneous, 47% vulgar)
your humor style:
VULGAR | SPONTANEOUS | DARK




Your sense of humor is off-the-cuff and kind of gross. Is it is also
sinister, cynical, and vaguely threatening to the purer folks of this
world. You probably get off on that. You would cut a greasy fart, then
blame it on your mom, and then just shrug when someone pointed out that
she's dead.


Yours is hands-down the most outrageous sense of humor; you
like things
trangressive and hardcore. It's highly likely (a) you have no limits
(b) you have no scruples and (c) you have no job. Ironically, it's your
type of humor that can make the biggest bucks in show business.



PEOPLE LIKE YOU: Howard Stern - Adam Sandler - Roseanne Barr






The 3-Variable Funny Test!

- it rules -




If you're interested, try my latest:
The Terrorism Test





My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 76% on darkness
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 37% on spontaneity
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 65% on vulgarity
Link: The 3 Variable Funny Test written by jason_bateman on Ok Cupid
About this Entry
May. 15th, 2005 @ 11:19 pm (no subject)
Well, now we know how bored I am:

The Keys to Your Heart



You are attracted to those who have a split personality - cold as ice on the outside but hot as fire in the heart.

In love, you feel the most alive when your lover is creative and never lets you feel bored.

You'd like to your lover to think you are stylish and alluring.

You would be forced to break up with someone who was insecure and in constant need of reassurance.

Your ideal relationship is open. Both of you can talk about everything... no secrets.

Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment.

You think of marriage as something precious. You'll treasure marriage and treat it as sacred.

In this moment, you think of love as something you thirst for. You'll do anything for love, but you won't fall for it easily.


About this Entry
May. 15th, 2005 @ 11:15 pm (no subject)
Dang skippy.

Your Birthdate: August 15

With a birthday on the 15th of any month, you are apt to have really strong attachments to home, family and domestic scene.

The 1 and 5 equaling 6, provide the sort of energy that makes you an excellent parent or teacher.

You are very responsible and capable.



This is an attractive and an attracting influence.

You like harmony in your environment and strive to maintain it.

You tend to learn by observation rather than study and research.



You may like to cook, but you probably don't follow recipes.

This number shows artistic leanings and would certainly support an talents that may be otherwise in your makeup.

You're a very generous and giving person, but perhaps a bit stubborn in ways.


About this Entry
May. 15th, 2005 @ 11:11 pm (no subject)
Oopsie. Well, at least I know now how to make a link work. And how to make a dummy of myself.
About this Entry
May. 15th, 2005 @ 11:09 pm Yay Česko!
Oh My God! I am soo freakin' happy that Canada finally lost! No, I'm not a hater, I love Canada. One does have to admit that they win too much when it comes to hockey. Ok, I'll will rephrase my happiness then: I am so glad that that Czech Republic won over Canada in the World Cup of Hockey. I am also happy about Slegr and Jágr joining the Triple gold club. And that is not something dirty. Great game boys.
 http://live82.ihwc.net/english/

About this Entry
May. 15th, 2005 @ 11:06 pm Yay Česko!
Oh My God! I am soo freakin' happy that Canada finally lost! No, I'm not a hater, I love Canada. One does have to admit that they win too much when it comes to hockey. Ok, I'll will rephrase my happiness then: I am so glad that that Czech Republic won over Canada in the World Cup of Hockey. I am also happy about Slegr and Jágr joining the Triple gold club. And that is not something dirty. Great game boys.
http://live82.ihwc.net/english/

About this Entry
May. 15th, 2005 @ 10:54 pm (no subject)


Your Inner European is Irish!









Sprited and boisterous!

You drink everyone under the table.


About this Entry
May. 11th, 2005 @ 08:05 pm (no subject)
On a better note, I just found out I got a 90 on my genetics quiz for AP Bio. Maybe I'm not such an idiot after all.

Go Suomi! er- I mean Slovenia. At least they're having fun.


hooooooooooooooooooockeyCollapse )
About this Entry
May. 11th, 2005 @ 07:36 pm AP stands for "Actual Poison"
Current Mood: infuriatedinfuriated
Current Music: Too Much Time on My Hands-- Styx
Well, everybody, I just failed my AP test. I know that there is no pass/fail on these types of exams, but trust me, I failed this one. But it is not my fault that my score on AP US Gov: Pol will be a one, it is the mere fact that my AP teacher, Mr. Horwits, obviously hates himself and takes it out on others. I’m mad, and I’m sorry Ms. Rex for not using the term “angry” like you prefer. But it is a horrifying feeling I felt today just looking at that test. It was not only the fact I did not know ANYTHING that was placed in front of me, but it that our teacher wasted ten months of our lives talking about the election, Terri Schaivo, and Tom DeLay. I felt degraded, sick, violated and especially stupid. It may seem like I am overreacting, but you have no idea what it is like to be in that class.

First of all, he assigns the most meaningless work known to man, and he doesn’t even make it up himself! It is impossible to do under the time restrints. The world does not revolve around you little boy! We have other classes and work and some have babies and grandmothers to take care of. But does that matter to you, Mikey-boy? Nooooo, because you can't even comprehend or fathom people, yet alone children, who have responsiblilities. you can't understnand that people have other things to do, other teachers to go to, other CLASSES to attend. And because of you, we also had grades we had to get changed and an AP test to try to study for on our lonesome.You could never know about it because all you care about are your parties. You're thirty, for God's sake!

Everything and I mean everything, classwork, homework, projects, had been pulled of the internet the same day of our class, right in front of us. He never planned anything for us, he doesn’t make lesson plans. We never know what is going to happen or where the conversation is going to end up; however, we do know one thing: we would not be preparing for the AP test, that’s for sure. Apparently, he somehow thought that we were going to learn this stuff by osmosis. The thing that really kills us is the work that he gives has horribly gotten in the way of studying for the exam. I mean, what senior has a desire to look up forty different articles in the New York Times, cut out each one, answer seven meaningless questions for each one AND write a two paragraph summary a piece? Seriously, I can imagine busting my butt and doing this if I was a gullible freshman, but as a SENIOR?! A senior who is in AP US GOV?! What does that have to do with learning about Congress or the judicial system or the legislative branch and whatever the heck I’m missing? I don’t understand what that or the 3 essays that were assigned about Terri Schaivo have to do with congress and the makings of laws and what not. You know, I feel so stupid because I can’t even describe what this class should be about since i know nothing about politics! Now Carleton will look at these scores and probably think that I am the most dumbest person who ever walk across the bald spot. Sacre bleu!

But any person on the face of the earth could have told you that TERRI SCHAIVO WOULD NOT BE ON THIS EXAM! NEITHER WOULD TOM DELAY! I could tell you what was on this test: THE FREAKING BASICS THAT WE NEVER EVEN COVERED!
 I never knew that I could feel so . . . dirty about one subject. Now I know that it is possible.

He has the nerve to make us take this test and say that we will get a zero if we don’t go, and to rub it in, he says that he does not expect us to do well, but just go anyway. Excuse me, but that is the most dry-out smelliest bullcrap that I have ever heard in my life. It's your fault that we are not going to do well! Why would he want us, his own class, to do badly? 

Is he that miserable about still living with his mom at thirty? Or that he only is the coach of JV baseball? Does his life suck that badly that this is what gets him off at night? This is his pleasure? Find a hooker, you sick bastard! Leave us seniors alone! Go somewhere and be a failing politician or something! It’s never too late to turn around and be . . . something in life. Stop being such a loser!  

Why teach if you don’t want to enhance the minds of younger society? Why talk about yourself like you are so good and want what’s best for the school when you are not even better than the scum that walks through our halls on a daily basis. Quite frankly, I can’t think of anything to differentiate between him and the bad students that are here. To me, they’re all . . . hustlers. They try so badly to “play the game” and get away with doing the least amount of work under the radar. It’s so slimy, it’s so shady and dirty and despicable. Horwits makes me sick just as those kids do as they degrade girls and spit on our floors and wrap condoms filled with semen on door handles that I need to touch to go to class. I mean, he degrades women the same way; he talks about women in a sleazy way just as 14 and 15-year-old boys do. There is no difference: except for the fact that we are forced to listen to it during class because somehow that becomes the conversation. Obviously, government has to take a back seat to him sharing with about how his ex-girlfriend was ugly.

I can't for the life of me figuere out how he has lasted that long. Hopefully, it will change for the end of the year. There is no way that I am going to waste my time doing these tedious projects that has nothing to do with the agenda, then again, we never had an agenda in the first place. But my pride cannot take this anymore! I refuse to do anymore work for that man when he knows, and we know, and he knows that we know, about what a fraud he is. Hopefully the meeting that I had earlier in the week will suffice. Hopefully the administration has realized what a poison they have on this staff. Our old principal will no longer be able to protect his partner-in-crime. The asshole is going down. Though there isn’t much I can do to help my school relive its glory days, I refuse to leave that monster to wreak havoc and cause serious amounts of degrading stress to next year’s class.

 I should have listened to Ms. Rex. Horwits and I should have never crossed paths. For my sake, and because of how I will finally destroy him, his sake as well.

Oh well. 
About this Entry
Jan. 31st, 2005 @ 06:30 pm Trouble in Charlie and Sally Paradise
Current Mood: scareddunno what the future holds

You know, I really didn’t want to ruin the my relationship with my Charlie and burst our little bubble, but it’s about time that I stop all of this whining and finally write down what is really in my heart:

Charlie has hurt me so many times.

I never in my life wanted to admit this, but after 2 years of lying to myself and denying the inevitable, I have finally come to terms with this reality that is in front of me. I love Charlie from the bottom of my heart, but there has to be some balance between us. Because it hasn’t been in these years of acquaintance, that has only set me—and only me—up in the process.

I have said it before and I will say it again: I do love him, but I thought that that reason why I get so messed up that I didn't know what love is. That isn’t the case. Charlie hasn’t figured out what it is. I mean, he is so fucking . . . withholding. I mean, I don’t really have a problem with that, at least when it concerns other people. But when you can be that unconnected to the world, be so unaware of the situation that is dealt to you, that you don’t realize that you are lying to your best friend? I can’t believe that, I refuse to believe that. He is a lot stronger and aware than I give him credit for.

We have this connection and he knows it. I know instantly when he is hiding something from me, or when he is not being completely honest. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt and blame this on the mere fact of his gender, but I doubt that he knows that I am able to see his dishonesty. Yet why doesn’t he realize that I’m not stupid? Why can’t he look me in the eyes and just tell me the truth? Doesn’t he just a hint of respect for me that he can tell me the truth that I deserve? I love the man! I can handle whatever he wants to say to me. I am not a fragile little girl who needs to be pacified with little snippets of events. But why does he constantly try to hide things from me, like I am nothing but an idiot that can be satisfied with little taunts of information? Maybe he doesn’t love me like he says he does.

 The thing about it is that he is so stubborn and so . . .  skillful. My Charlie gets away with being so needy, and I constantly keep falling into his “traps” that he lays out for me. I feel so frustrated at this point. I keep questioning if it is worth keeping him as my friend if he will keep doing these little things to me. It’s always the little things that get to me.

But he brushes me off. He undermines me. And I don’t know if I can handle just ending the relationship just to soothe my Leo pride. I used to feel so guilty about feeling this way: jealous because he finally has what he wants after all of these years; selfish for wanting “all” of him (emotional-wise). But the thing is: I was damn wrong to feel that way.

He is such a beautiful man. He is the most nurturing and loving man that I know. My Charlie has such a wonderful glow, aura, and presence when he is around his crowd. But the thing about is, he thinks he has to be that way ALL of the time. He dares not let anyone see the other side of him, the “baby” side. He does not want people to see the side that just craves to be loved and cuddled and taken care of, the one that doesn’t make one swoon with his sweetness and high intelligence. He deserves to be loved and cuddled as much as he does his family. And no matter how hard he tries to hide the raw side of himself, I still see it, in all of its twisted glory. He cannot run from me or my vision of himself. I know him too well. I think it’s because I am him.

A good friend used to describe us as “kindred souls.” She meant that we were the kind of fucked-up souls that kept running into each other at wicked points in our lifetimes. But she just wanted to say it nicely by using the word “kindred.” I do admit, when I first met him, he scared the shit out of me by seeing how much we were alike. And I am positive that I scared the shit out of him. I do indeed think it was justified, though. I mean, how would one feel when they go through life and they finally are intertwined with someone who is exactly like them, positioned in the exact same situation, yelling at the same damn blue sky? I know that person would be scared, like I am. Like we are together.  It’s like they finally got what they wanted, and have know idea what to do with it.

I have no idea with to do with it.

The thing that gets me so frustrated is that he dragged me in with him, and now is afraid to come back and tell me the danger’s over. I’m a big girl, if you cared about me; you wouldn’t leave me to question the future all by myself, especially if you knew it. Sometimes, I don’t know if I should feel frustrated like I have done wrong in process of me helping him to see it, or should I just go ahead and kick him in the nuts. I have proven so many times that I know where he is coming from, that he does not have to handle anything on his own, that if not me, there is so many people that love him enough to understand and aid him. But he gets so scared of confrontation. My boy is scared to open his mail! And since I am one of the few who is privy enough to see the “dark” side of him, I have to sit back and watch him suffer. And I realized something: that is just as selfish as telling me everything and not caring about my feelings.

Or it is at least insulting. To me, love is such a balance. Everything is equal. It should be basically impossible to love someone more than they love the other, if the love is worth one’s time. But I don’t know. If feels like it should be worth my time, and I have been right about everything else so far. But maybe this is just the side of me that wants to hang on to her precious boy. Yes, the wonderful side of me that wants to kiss all of the boo-boos and fix him a hot bowl of soup and listens to his problems as he slurps away. I want that maternal love for someone. I want it a little too early, a little too much. Look at my patient! He is not a naïve little boy, he is the complete opposite! That is why I have to stop treating him like he is so incompetent. This man with an IQ of 146. This man who can tell the plot, theme and literary style of every book on the planet. Who makes things with his hands seem like child’s play It has to stop, and it has to stop now.

The impatient and fed-up side of me is ecstatic with my sudden realization. The other side of me that I have mentioned above cannot stop weeping over her loss. But this has to be merited. I have so much love to give to people, and it is so unfair to me that the recipient is not giving his share. Maybe I’m overreacting, but since this has been nagging me on so many occasions, on so many levels, I believe that it’s about time I heed my heart. I will cherish everything that we have ever done together, but it will be on a different level than before in my soul.

I’m not saying that it is the end of the “Charlie and Sally” era. Well, in some ways beyond our control, it is, but if he really does care love me, he will give me the closure that I so desperately deserve. I will still enjoy doing things with him and hopefully, after the bruise heals, he will enjoy doing things with me. I’m not asking for much, just my fair share of honesty.  

I don’t need a stupid apology, because in retrospect, he really didn’t do anything wrong. I merely want him to say: “Sally, I’m not coming back.” Just those five short words will make me happy. Then I can kick him in the nuts and kiss him goodbye. I do love my little coward. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

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