Saturday, November 29, 2008

Migration

It seems like a lot of my friends are on livejournal.

More importantly, I'm tired of censoring myself by only having the option of a public or friends only blog, and I want to use the friend locking feature of livejournal to write more personal things.

So, I'm leaving you, blogger. It's been a good run. I might be back, like an old lover, to reminisce sweetly about past times. But we're through.

If you want to keep reading about my adventures (my noble crowd of.. 2 readers.. or something), you can go over here:

http://ckirisi.livejournal.com/

Please be forewarned that all the juicy stuff is f-locked.

Kisses,

~ Me

Sunday, November 16, 2008

It's beginning to look a lot like christmas...

I walked into meijers yesterday, to hear holiday songs blaring on the radio. It snowed today, a thin blanket of the white and fluffy, and instantly half my friends changed their facebook statuses to something regarding the upcoming holiday season. There are commercials on the TV for decorations, presents, etc. The neighbors put up lights.

It's not even thanksgiving yet, but I feel that christmas spirit in the air, the one I look forward to every year, I excitedly make lists of things to make for people and cards to send out, I decorate the house with reckless abandon....



... But not this year.

This year, I already have the feeling like I want to punch the next santa-suited individual I see walking around. I have an urge to yell loud enough to drown out stupid carols. I want to set the wrapping paper section at meijers on fire. I can't even find in myself enough holiday spirit to cut paper into visually pleasing shapes to mail to my loved ones eventually. Heaven forbid I think about christmas shopping, the idea repulses me.

At the same time, I have a strange yearning for thanksgiving- thanksgiving! The holiday I was usually nonchalant about, if not a little wary of. My mother, after cooking all day and chasing around my brother, would be a little emotional, my other little brother would usually pick that day to have a temper tantrum about something, my dad would either be distant and upsetting (emotional) mom by avoiding the family, or half setting the house on fire trying to use a turkey baster, and I'd be simultaniously avoiding everybody, and trying to help in the kitchen. Last year, I started bossing everybody around- assigning my tantruming brother to set the table, taking my autistic brother and making dad play with him, and helping mom cook. Thanksgiving is a lot of emotional work.

And yet,I'm pining for it. I'm pining for family arguments, garlic yams, autistic kids who won't stay put at the table, and eating leftovers for weeks until I might be sick if I look at another serving of stuffing. Perhaps it's because this will be the first year, in my megar existance on this planet, that I will not be with my family for it. My immediate family is in Sweden, and the rest are in Greece or California.


This is strange, this holiday season. It seems that the difficulties of living overseas from my immediate family (whom I used to talk to every day), the fears I have with transitioning out of undergrad and into - Goddess knows what - and my changing definitions of family and home are all interacting to make me an anti-Santa, pro-Turkey crazy person.


I still haven't decided what I'm doing for Thanksgiving. Staying at home and eating chinese food is looking more and more tempting, because I think I'm going to be depressed one way or another, and may as well not drag other people down with me..

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Sad Kitty

I had to have Magic declawed. It goes against all my personal morals and principals, but she is too shred happy.

Now she's wandering around the house, wearing a lampshade looking thing on her head, drugged up and walking into walls. It's horribly cute and kind of meanly funny, but I also feel really terrible for having to have this elective surgery done :(

Sunday, November 9, 2008

My Secret Talent:

Fucking everything up.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

News:

The Good News: My uterus is not falling out.
The Bad News: It sure feels like it is.
The Yet-To-Be-Decided News: In less than 24 hours, we'll know who the next president will be.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Ethics

Sometimes I wonder if it's so wrong to put my cats into jingly-bell minstrel costumes to make my housemate feel happier.

..... But it's so damn cute....

Sunday, October 26, 2008

A meme I meant to post a long time ago..

Stolen from blue_sky_48220 on livejournal.

Sarah Palin married her high school boyfriend, Todd Palin, on August 29, 1988. The Palin family lives in Wasilla, about 45 miles (72 km) north of Anchorage. The Palins have two sons (Track, 19, and Trig, four months) and three daughters (Bristol, 17; Willow, 14; and Piper, 7) [ages as of August 2008]. Todd Palin has said Track's name came from the interest Sarah's parents had in the sport and the fact that he was born in the sport's season; Bristol was named after Bristol Bay in Alaska, where Todd grew up and where he does commercial fishing; Willow was named after Willow, Alaska; Piper got her name because it is uncommon and "a cool name"; Trig's name is Norse for "strength".

1)Your first-born will be named after your parents favorite sport:
Jogging.


2)Your second-born will be named after a nearby area that you're not from but you like the sound of part of the name, and maybe you have nostalgic memories of said place:
Cape Cod.


3)Your third-born will be named after another nearby place, for no reason other than you already have two children and don't have time to put much thought into another name:
Ypsilanti.


4)Your fourth gets a "cool" name:
Dash.

5)Your fifth gets something mythological, possibly straight out of Lord of the Rings:
Goliath.

Fibroids

I'm going to kick some long dead member of my maternal family line's ass if I have one. Watch out, here comes 'roid rage Irisi..

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Emo

I feel like life comes in little spurts of crazy. As a result, I've lost grip of just how stressed out I am, I seem to have two states of being:

Mellow: It's all gravy, it'll all work out, I'm happy, my life is moving forward, I will soon have the chance to pursue all my dreams, I have such a strong network of friends, I have a happy and healthy relationship, I just cooked some delicious chili.

Crazy: Holy shit, I'm graduating and have no idea what I'm doing with my life, my parents live in Sweden and never reply to my emails, I'm going to end up homeless with a piece of paper from U of M that says I know something, all my friends are moving and I probably will be as well, my personal spiritual practice is in shambles, I don't have enough hours in the day.

Most importantly, I feel like I'm hitting a brick wall repeatedly whenever I try to get schoolwork done. My therapist calls this 'burnout,' aka 'senioritis.'

Right now, I'm writing in my blog instead of working on Greek and Psych. And I spent all day working (unsuccessfully) on my Curriculum Vitae and Statement of Purpose, to avoid Greek and Psych.

I am living in a paradox of happy and calm and crazed and stressed and a whirlwind of changes... Is this how everybody feels when they realize that they're going to graduate soon?



PS I failed to mention that TFA rejected me. I don't really want to talk about it. Jerks.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Cats

I am going to declaw my cat Magic, with my bare hands.

Not really.

I get SO frustrated when she decides to claw the carpets, despite people yelling at her in three different languages to stop it, being sprayed with water, loud noises, etc etc... I clip her nails weekly, and tried claw caps, but she just chews them off. I want to convey to her that the caps are to prevent a painful surgery in which the tips of her bones will be cut off, but she just doesn't get it and keeps on destroying things.

I have huge moral compunctions regarding declawing cats, but I also have a big problem with my carpet being shredded and all of my security deposits forever going to feed my cat's addiction.

ARG.

Monday, September 29, 2008

TFA! TFA!

I had my phone interview today!! I think I rocked it! I'm so excited, but also very sleepy, so I'll chatter more on this later...

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

TFA! TFA!

In less than half an hour, I will discover if I have been asked back for an interview..... I AM SO NERVOUS!!

In other news, I am in a good mood today... Eating every hour quickly became habit, and I actually was able to focus and have energy- Yay!

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Oh, Oops.

Hmmm, I went to see a therapist today, for many reasons. The most prominent issue, though, is that I can't stop sleeping. I want to sleep all the time. This is weird for me. I usually sleep 7 hours a night, but lately I've wanted 15+.. And school is suffering. Also, food has become repulsive to me. I realized that I haven't eaten lately- the only times I eat is when I'm going through the social motions, and eating because it's what I'm supposed to do in given company, not because I'm hungry. Everything is gross, except bacon.

The wise and observant therapist asked what I ate yesterday. "Two handfuls of almonds, an egg, and some pickles. Oh, and a glass of soymilk." This morning, I tried to eat a whole PB&J and almost lost my stomach.

.... Oh, maybe that's why I'm exhausted and can't focus.

So now I have this very interesting behavior I'm supposed to be cultivating: Every hour, on the hour, while I'm awake, I'm supposed to eat something. Right now I'm having my 5pm snack of half of a small container of naked juice. I don't want it.

He is sure that within a week, my metabolism will speed back up, I'll be sleeping less, and able to focus again. Won't that be nice.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Feelin' Good.

I am happy to discover that happiness can also taste like apple dumplings, or feel like clean biting air, or smell like wet grass, or look like stars. I am happy to learn that a well placed, "I love you," can ease my fear of those very words.

I am happy to study until my brain hurts, grumbling about eye structure as he grumbles about chemical structure, and I'm even happier when, twenty minutes later, clothing joins the abandoned note cards on the floor and, thirty minutes later, we're studying again, only naked and smiling.

I suppose I should back up and explain: Three months ago, before any of the romantic letter affections began with McAsshole, when I was still avidly avoiding relationships, I stumbled into Zagref at a potluck. I made it clear I was avoiding relationships, and we set a break up date for August 8th. Shortly thereafter, long distance affection based on a single memory and "logic" began with McAsshole. Zagref and I "ended" on the 8th, but failed miserably at being platonic. After what I have lovingly renamed "my two days of personal hell," with McAsshole, I drove over to Zagref's house and cried against him as he, probably quite confused, held me.

And, I'm an idiot, and failed to notice that I was so caught up in trying to use "logic" that I'd missed the simple fact that Zagref takes away my breath, in the best of ways, and is an incredible person. I think I fell in love because I was trying so hard not to, and I stumbled into a relationship because we started without the heavy expectations relationships often carry.

I'm loving with my eyes wide open. And I am so happy.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Weather

Holy crap, it's beautiful outside.

I am going to study in the park. Yeah.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Consent

Yes:
Sober
Awake
Stated

No:
Inebriated
Sleeping
Assumed



... And several months of letters do NOT make for consent. The makings for a healthy sexual relationship do not start with one intoxicated partner, and one sober... I thought I was watching my glass, and only had two glasses, until I noticed him refilling it. I thought I was safe, in my house and room, with my trusted friend. I still can't sleep well, even after a month, I keep having nightmares of waking up again, on the brink of orgasm from stimulation, angry and violated.

The plan of action:

1) Therapist enlisted
2) Embracing of term and survivor mantle, AGAIN, done
3) Involve spiritual work in new healing
Next, I reach out to friends, talk to my mom, incorporate this into my Oct lecture, and maybe this time I can be strong enough to tell him that was not okay...

... Although I'm also burned that when I did say No to him, he called me "full of poison, a stupid scared little girl," among other things.



I am also heartily happy to have S, my mentors, a patient and sensitive lover, and friends and community. This won't be so bad, with time.

Sex is complicated

So is cognitive psychology.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Hello hello

While walking out of my Women's Studies class:
A: Classmate in another class with about 20 people in it that lasts 3 hours.
J: Classmate from last year that I can never remember.

Me: Hi, I'm Irisi, good to meet you!
A: We had class together yesterday.
J: She's terrible at remembering people.
Me: Yes, I am.
J: Just yesterday, she completely forgot who I was.
Me: Yes, I did. And so he beat me.
J: Mercilessly. With a paddle.
Me: Oooo! I mean.. Wait, do I know you?

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Monogamy

The practice of having sex with only one partner.
www.webmd.com/sexual-conditions/sexual-health-glossary

A closed two person hetro relationship, may be the result of an informed mutual agreement or from not understanding that there are viable options.
www.familysynergy.org/art-poly.html

Definition: A private sexual relationship stuck between two individuals.
www.sextermsdictionary.com/m-sexual-terms-and-definitions.htm

The mating of one person with another individual with neither engaging in sexual activity with anyone else.
www.sexualcounselling.com/Glossary/Glossarym.htm



... The question is, what exactly does it mean to me? More importantly, does it matter to me? And how do I negotiate boundaries if I choose a lifestyle outside of this social norm?

The truth is, I don't think I like monogamy, or think that it's natural, or healthy sometimes. There's a difference between being scared of something, and simply disagreeing with something on principal. I'm scared of monogamy because I don't think I'll be happy with it.

My first try at a triad relationship several years ago was a terrible mistake. I'm scared that my opinions and lifestyle will ultimately lead to the fall of a relationship I want so badly to make work.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Layout

I'm stealing lea's template, but I'm tired of having the emo kid blog and this is the only other decent template to use... Sorry! ;)

Sunday, August 17, 2008

I love my dad, I really do... arg

[on fertility]
Dad: How old are you now?
Me: 22.
Dad: You have eight more years.
Me: What?
Dad: Until your fertility and egg quality declines, and you have a higher risk of having a child with a disability. Like your brother.
Me: ... Thanks, dad.

[on men]
Me: Good news dad, I have a boyfriend.
Dad: Does he have a PhD?
Me: No.
Dad: Dump him.

[on my desired career path]
Dad: What? Why do you want to study queers? Are you a queer? Do you like bondage?
Me: What? No! No I only like vanilla sex with men!

[more on my career path]
Dad: You should learn how to fix queers, if you want to study sex.
Me: Dad, I'll forgive you for that insensitive comment, because you are a product of your environment and the prevailing cultural attitudes.

[on weight gain]
Me: I think I'm getting fat. Dad, am I fat?
Dad: Yes.




.... I do love my father, I really do, but sometimes I want to strangle him.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

I see the light!

Finals are almost over!

THANK THE GODS!

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Happiness is...

- a funny way of walking
- strawberry milkshakes
- shrieking as Dog jumps into bed at entirely the wrong moment
- checking the mailbox obsessively
- a hearty breakfast
- clean laundry
- all the stresses turning out okay
- eager anticipation of another 7am wakeup call
- Trillobytes!
- good health

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Bonds of God-fire and of Need

For our lammas ritual today, we explored the Red God, the edge walker, the wielder of the blade that cuts our bindings, limits our expansion, brings our death. In circle, we tied all twenty of us together with twine, stretching against one another as we expanded and grew, finding our edges. And we cut away those bonds.

While many of the bonds I choose to cut away are somewhat private demons, I have many I chose to keep, and swore to do so in sacred space, and now in a more public domain:

- Bonds of affection and loyalty to my friends and family
- Bonds of honesty at all times
- Bonds to do what's right, even if it's not easy
- Bonds to my education
- Bonds to maintain good posture and speak clearly and loudly
- Bonds to make something of my life
- Bonds to improve the lives of my survivor sisters
- Bonds to my faith

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Taking names, kicking ass

I'm back!

A summary of the past few days:

Thursday: A drive to Indiana.
Friday: Dropping my family off at the airport. Stupid, stupid TSA people telling me to move my car before I have the opportunity to hug my mother goodbye. Day of errands: Returned a cable box, sold the car, picked up the dog, washed some laundry, went to goodwill, stopped by the storage locker.
Saturday: Up at 7 to drive back to Michigan with Dog. Depositing dog at vets for kenneling, a day of cleaning.
Sunday: A day of rest. By rest, I mean, reading 150 pages in prep for an exam, cleaning more, helping housemate prepare loft area of house (installed shag carpeting, new table, lamp... failed to carry mini fridge up 16 foot ladder.. No beer on tiny loft, sadness). Beer.
Monday: A happy wakeup with a phone call from Korea. Argument with vet- they insist my mother did not want the dog sedated for staple removal. I know that she said exactly the opposite thing. I call US caretaker privileges and tell them to sedate her, because there's no way she'll sit still. My mother wonders how her words were twisted.
Today: An exam, followed by dog pickup and check into hotel. Appreciation of business king accommodations. Dog is high. Preparation to take her to obedience classes in a few hours.



.... I miss studying for the GREs, working in the lab, and sleep.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Fear

I keep having these amazing days, but then the night comes, and I am crippled with.. fear, lonliness, something. I've fought with this feeling for a while, feeling that it's completely uncalled for, that I am happier and luckier than many people, and shouldn't feel that way.

Anyways, tonight I finally hit on the why: On July 19th, my mother and brothers are going to get on a plane to Sweden, fly overseas, and move into the house my father just purchased in Mondal, outside of Gottensberg.

I talk to my mom every day. I visit my parents at least every other month, often once a month, even though it's a four hour drive away. I've lived away from home since I was 17, but I've always squeezed in visits as best I could. Once, last summer, I got REALLY sick, and my mom drove four hours in the middle of the night to come help me. I needed surgery, and spent a week at home, recovering.

I've never lived in Indiana, but I've been there so many times, it's home.

Now, they're moving. I'm starting to write out the papers that will designate a power of attorney and other such legalities, so that in the event of a sudden lapse into a coma or something, somebody who knows something about my desires can make my decisions. But I am plagued by the little things:
- If I get sick, I have to fix my own problems. No more mommy driving me to the hospital with an uncontrollable fever of 104, even though I seem to have that experience at least once a year.
- I will visit home once, maybe twice a year.
- I will not be able to call mom on my way to class. I'll have to skype her in the evenings, from home.
- My entire family is learning the Swedish language and culture, and experiencing a new culture.. Except me.
- No introducing the boyfriend to the parents, unless I'm about to marry him or something, because introducing the boyfriend will entail an overseas flight.
- I handle almost all of my finances, etc, but mom and dad still help me by renewing my health and auto insurance, and taking care of my paperwork, etc. No longer.

My dad told me once that nobody will ever love you as much as your parents. I can't decide if this was a harsh and painful truth, or a falsehood that has left me heavy scars. I can't say how much I pray for the latter, but I often feel that the first is true, no matter how much I want to believe otherwise.

"And you know for a million years, he has been your lover,"

I went to bed with a smile on my lips last night, for.. well, for a particular reason, but one I'm not quite ready to blog about.

I dreamed all night of goat hooved pan, and woke up with his woody scent on my pillows again. I cast aside my original morning plans, and spent two hours alternating between dancing, meditating, and writing poetry.

Today will be a good day, I think.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Scripts

First, you have the coy pre-kiss flirtation dance, and then the kissing. Followed by petting, then explorations under the clothes, then the first tentative reaches to the genitalia. Then, your mouth roams, and eventually nudity and penetrative sex happen.

It really confuses people if you mess with the first part of the script and say "no kissing!"


... I just don't want the mouth herpes. Or the sensation of being soul naked, which is what kissing does to me. Is that so wrong?

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Dog update!

She is fine.

It was a urinary tract infection.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

GRE death

I took a practice GRE exam cold (without studying) and scored in the 60th percentile....


... Which is, clearly, unacceptable.


Looks like I have a new summer project!!

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Joy of Joys!

I can eat BUTTER!

Background:
- I am severely lactose intolerant
- I hate taking pills with meals
- Hence I usually don't eat dairy

I decided yesterday that instead of using purchased butter for a dish I wanted to make to share with a friend, I'd make my own using heavy whipping cream. I've done this by accident before (when trying to make whipped cream and getting over enthusiastic), but I wanted to read up on the chemical process that actually makes butter, well, butter. It's really pretty cool.

Anyways, in the process I made the discovery that natural, homemade butter is very low in lactose... And to my delight, I found I can eat it without taking a lactose pill with no ill effects!!!!

Store bought butter still kills me, though..

Anyways, this great discovery has brightened my day. I've decided I'm going to start making monthly batches of clarified butter (keeps longer), so butter can once more be a part of my life.


... I'm so happy. :)

Friday, June 6, 2008

Regardless

I'm mostly done moving, just need to clean the old room for the new occupant. I enjoy my balcony in the new room. Life is good.

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Irisi strikes out again

The past week has had some marvelous incidents in which I have been:

- stood up
- calmly rejected
- probably totally misinterpreted something somebody said and am now super embarrassed about
- canceled on (AGAIN)
- mostly ignored

.... All with different individuals.

I have a strong desire to say "I QUIT" with relationships. I am too shy to follow up on eye flirtations at the bookstore, as my wee little heart is feeling trampled on. And as I sip my wine (my sole companion on these hot summer nights), I wonder when life became so focused on relationships, and when I started pressuring myself to find a mate. I wonder if I am destined to be like Samantha on Sex and the City: always floating from casual partner to casual partner, 50 and single... And then I wonder: is that really such a bad fate?

Sunday, June 1, 2008

MomQuotes: On Family Bonding

(Misspoken as we pulled away from Dunkin Donuts, about a minute later she realized what she had said)

Mom: I think Dunkin Donuts promotes bondage.


(five hours later, as I struggled to take off sexy knee high boots that were stuck on my feet.. This whole dialogue was my mother talking to herself.)
High voice: Oh, what a nice date... Seems I can't take my boots off! I'll just leave them on!
Low voice: Woah, kinky!
High voice: That's what happens when you take me to Dunkin Donuts.

Friday, May 30, 2008

More on the dog

Apparently, her lethargy and weird behavior had nothing to do with an upcoming heat or all the changes from the move. We noticed that she was repeatedly wetting in the backyard, she'd go outside for a few minutes and squat several times until we called her back in.

I came out of my room at about 2am last night and she was squatting right by the door. I was about to call her a bad dog for peeing on the carpet, but I realized she was straining heavily and looked very uncomfortable.. And that her pee was bright red.

Mom is currently at the vet with her. I'm trying to remain optamistic, that maybe it is just a bladder infection and can be treated easily with antibiotics.. I hope it hasn't gone up to her kidneys :(

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

MomQuotes: On Our Dog Going Into Heat

Me: Well, Sotiri, when two dogs love each other very much...
Sotiri: I thought it was more of a wham-bam 30 second affair for dogs.
Mom: Isn't that how it is for everybody?

*crickets chirping*

Monday, May 26, 2008

A Letter To Lovers

Dear Happily Committed Couples,

If you are younger than me, I would kindly like to ask you to please stop getting married and spawning children.

Also, if you are my friend, please hold off on announcing any plans to move in together, engagements, pregnancies, or wedding invitations for a little while longer, while I wait for my head to stop spinning.

Love,

- Me

In the past year, I have witnessed...:
- 6 engagements
- 3 weddings
- 2 babies
- 2 divorces
- 4 significant other move ins

... Seriously people, don't cut in line.


**Disclaimer: Of course I'm happy for y'all.

Holy crap, batman.

I graduate in May 2009.

I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING WITH MY LIFE.

I'm going to have to start sorting that bit out sooner rather than later... The options:
1. Wait a year, go to grad school (work somewhere in the meantime)
2. Go immediately to grad school
3. Do peace corps or teach for america or something
4. Become a park ranger in Big Bend and write a novel

... okay, so 4 probably isn't viable. But the number and variety of options open to me is liberating and terrifying.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

A philisophical quandry

What is the point of cookie dough ice cream? Really, all you do is root around for the cookie dough, obligingly eatig the ice cream as you go so you can find another one of those tasty little chunks..

Lessons learned today

1. Diet pepsi and rum go great together
2. The oblivious guys are, more often than not, actually quite perceptive
3. I need to learn to keep my mouth shut, the brass ovaries manuever has only led to personal distress every time I use it.


Looking back on the past year, I think I've experienced more than enough heartache to compensate for several years of being in stupid over serious relatioships. I quit. My life goal is to become a spinster.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Let the chaos begin

I'm back home.

In this week's highlights: A date that I'll probably royally screw up as usual (does it count as a date if the other person might just be thinking it's a hang-out?), talking with a doctor about my pizza face, the dentist a meeting wherein I will learn the fine art of transcription, the desire for more time to be at the hospital with Tweed, more driving (yay indiana!), a rice diet (damn mexican food), and laundry.

The fun never ends!




**Disclaimer: despite my sarcastic tone, I'm actually in a pretty fantabulous mood. Just busy, and amused by it..

Saturday, May 3, 2008

Another day in paradise

Clean showers, a soft bed, and a shelter from the environment.

Tomorrow, all that will change, for three weeks of fun in the desert sun, trying not to fry or die from dehydration.

Please see my travel blog (http://goirisigo.blogspot.com) for updates on what I'm doing....

Until then, peace!

Thursday, May 1, 2008

So long, Mr. Perfect

It was real, it was fun, and now you're on your way home.

There's safety in emotion when you know it couldn't be real, when the object of your affections lives across the country, or loves another person, or, even better, both.

Still hurts a twitch, though.

Love is a scam, concocted by poets, executed by actors, and experienced by willing flocks of hungry humans, who have forgotten the joy of living dangerously. Wouldn't it be beautiful if love stories were nonfiction? Sadly, they are not.

Sunday, April 27, 2008

Falling again

But this time, happily.

For the sweet smell of summer and big brown eyes, for dancing barefoot through the arb and saying "no, I won't be that girl, the one that hopelessly chases that guy," for being banished to my room by the housemates for laughing too loud and stopping to breathe much more often.

A random conversation:
"Do you like flowers?"
"No."
"Too girly?"
"Yes."
"Would you like them if I picked them in the forest for you?"
"Yes."
((pause))
"Because I picked them?"
"Yes."

Friday, April 25, 2008

In other news, I am bad at math

Last week, I resigned myself to the disappointing fact that there was no way to raise my cumulative GPA to a 3.0, and began to ponder what fast food chain I'd most like to work with after I graduate with a degree that is mostly useless without Grad School.

Today, I scratched my head in curiosity as this semester's grades pulled my GPA up to a 3.01.

Then I realized that I'm an idiot, and that my GPA is only calculated using my U of M credits, and doesn't include my 60 credits transferred from Eastern.

.... Which is really, really excellent news.

Shame

I am ashamed of a few things right now:

- I have at least 21 hickeys right now
- I'm not entirely sure where they all came from
- I just wrote the sentence, "I'm much more fun when I'm coherent!" on somebody's facebook wall


.... I guess everybody needs at least a few of these experiences. It could have been worse. I woke up alone in bed. Granted, it wasn't my bed, but that's okay. Ooops...!

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Events

Opportunity to do a masters program in Greece after I graduate next year: Scary as hell, but Rockin'
Struggling for a C in a course that is, essentially, my life goals condensed into a class: Shitty.
A's in everything else: Rockin'
Except Greek: Shitty.
Upcoming Texas Trip: Rockin'
Slowly increasing personal debt, realization that I won't have time for a job this summer: Shitty.
Spiritual work: Rockin'
Realizing that my home alter has been consumed by piles of paperwork, books, and other such accouterments: Shitty.
Life overall: Rockin'

Monday, April 7, 2008

My life this week

Consists of...

8am wakeups
too much coffee
emblazoned mental images of my handwriting on index cards
zombie like stares into nothingness in between study bouts
a diet consisting of peanuts and chicken tenders
forcing myself to meditate daily
speaking greek when I'm supposed to be speaking english, and vice versa
power naps

.... And strangely, this organized chaos is kind of comforting and nice, if only for a very short while. More than two weeks like this, I'd go mad.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

I hate this time of year

I love the spring, I love the sun, I love the fact that I can sit outside without freezing my arms off, and I love being able to walk and run again.

I hate finals, yes, and I hate the fact that every February/March, I am plagued with mysterious illness, depression, headaches, stomach aches, and my libido dies.

I finally did the math this year, in the doctors office as she noted on my charts, and realized that oh, yes, it was February that I was raped, and March that I terminated. How silly of me to forget the months, and displace them into November for some unknown reason. Every year for the past 7, I have been in and out of doctors offices around this time for the same set of concerns. I've missed classes, feared that I have ulcers, worried about the health of my brain as dizziness plagues me, and wondered if I'll ever feel happy again as the sun starts to shine and my spirit plummets.

I am strengthened by this realization of this association. Spring is coming.

Sunday, March 30, 2008

MomQuotes: On Drug Policy & American Spirit


Me: [trying to figure out summer travel plans] okay, so, we can all fly out to Amsterdam, and then from there you'll go to Sweden, and I'll either go to Sweden, or Greece.
Sotiri (my 13 year old brother): Will you have magic brownies?
Me: What? Maybe, since it's legal there.
Mom: Yes, Sotiri, we will leave you and Krock [6 year old autistic brother] in the hotel, and your sister and I are going to go smoke out. Yeaaah! [making crazy faces]
Sotiri: What? I want to come!
Mom: [imitating Sotiri] Yeah, uhm, Amsterdam police, I'm taking care of my 6 year old brother... My mom and big sister are high. They're just coming off a bad buzz. [pause] I wonder what Amsterdam prisons are like? [making phone gesture] Um, yes, hi honey... Yes, I don't know where the boys are. Your daughter and I are in a women's holding facility.. Yes, they sent us to rehab.

.....

Mom: You know the Native Americans used to put the drug on a fire, and put a blanket over themselves to inhale the smoke second hand.
Me: Yes, hotboxing.
Mom: Is that what you kids are doing now adays?
Me: I don't do that!
Mom: Yes, peace pipes and hotboxing, connecting with the American roots.
Sotiri: Smell that? That's the smell of freedom.
Me: No, I just farted, sorry.



As an aside, my father brought my little brother a tee shirt from Holland with a large pot leaf on it. He thought it was the national tree of Holland, and was not aware of the drug association, because my father is generally clueless about these things. I would like to mention that my parents are not drug users, and never have been, which is what makes these series of conversations hilarious.

Saturday, March 29, 2008

Love and stoplights can be cruel - Sesame Street

And on another adage, sometimes you don't know how much you loved something until you realize you may have lost. Or if you love something, you have to let it go. How can we trust sensations if they can so easily lead us astray? I swore myself to emotional celibacy, and look, for a year, I fulfilled it, and yet I fell for what I thought was a safe situation, and fell right on my face. I despise this cloying desperation, this irrational angst and bitter desire. I want to place blame, but am unsure where to place it: in myself, for trusting too easily, for a faulty gut instinct, for not realizing how badly I had emotionally entangled myself until it was too late, for continuing to grasp, as if just clenching my hand tighter will slow the flow of sand from it? In the other, for poor communication?

Or maybe I really am overreacting. Maybe the unreturned phone calls and gentle let downs are all in my head. Maybe I've just inflated a situation, maybe I'm just going crazy, maybe this longing is just attaching itself to a convenient scapegoat, when what I really hunger for is a sense of self or just.. human touch. Or maybe I'm just making more of a drama mess for myself. Maybe this is all a reflection of finals stress or something. Maybe it's actually all fine, and in a week I will delete this.

All I can remember is reading you a rumi poem and realizing that, for once, I understood it. I'm an idiot.

And I'm not sure why I'm posting these ramblings to the web. Perhaps because I'm tired of burdening my friends with my madness, and if I put them here I can pretend somebody reads them, get them off my chest, and carry on with life.

I always get over this stuff. It just stings.


And now, I drop the drama like the lava rock it is, and refocus: this week's project is.... Planning a trip to the grand canyon for my mom before she leaves the country forever! Alright! Go team distraction!

Pooh Bear

Here is an excellent song, I need to sing it always:

I'm just a little black rain cloud,
Hovering over the honey tree.
I'm just a little black rain cloud,
Pay no attention to little me.

Everyone knows that a rain cloud
never eats honey, no, not a nip.
I'm just floating around over the ground,
wondering where I will drip.

My mom decided this was her theme song of the day today. Now it's stuck in my head, too.

MomQuotes: On Discussing Religion

"Why do people bother talking about what they believe? It's much more interesting to compare religions and demonstrate knowledge about them. Talking about what you believe is like talking about what kind of deodorant you like the best, nobody cares about your B.O. 'Oh, yes, I prefer Charmin ultra-soft toilet paper over Scott tissue!', who cares? It's exquisitely dull! We should discuss how brands of toilet tissue are different! Or have a political debate about social security benefits."


And this is why I love my mother.

Friday, March 28, 2008

MomQuotes: On Desert Survival

Me: Mom, I'm going to the desert. What should I bring?

Mom: [looking up from her book on existentialism] Something everybody can enjoy.

Me: Such as?

Mom: A whoopee cushion. Or a guitar. And sing a song together.

Me: Oh...?

Mom:
Or a beast of burden, of any species. Perhaps a small child, or a woman with a basket on her head. Or a small mule, the woman with the basket on her head is a statue.

Me:
Oh yes, mom, that's a good idea...?

Mom:
Or a nose hair trimmer. And whiskey, to sterilize it. Yes. Or that guy, the one from your class. I have to go rescue your brother from your brother.

Me:
.......?

A friend's advice

One day, one of my friends said to me, "Irisi, many years down the road, will you look back on college and think to yourself, 'gee, I wish I had gotten more sleep!'?"

This is a good point.

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

The past few days

Sunday: 12 hours spent reading about male Childhood Sexual Assault for a paper. 10 page research paper written. Went to bed desiring light and fluffy reading material, at 3am.

Monday: 7am wakeup. Drifted through the day. Got information about international grad programs. Intended to go to club, opted to stay home and sleep.

Tuesday: Picketed from 10am-6pm. http://www.umgeo.org/ Realized picketing is tough work, but quite similar to preistessing. Learned a bunch of new songs. Had anniversary dinner with Miss S at an Ethiopian restaurant. We fed each other, and were excessively mushy. There were a few funny glances, but one of the things I love about this city is that two young women being sweet doesn't faze many people.

Today: Slept in by accident. Now, I devote the day to reading this damn CDL manual.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Life direction: rambling

I am slowly becoming aware of a growing reality for myself: I am developing an identity, a path.

I've spent the past several years feeling like play-dough: mushy, easily shaped and formed, not really with a definite form. The analogy in The Golden Compass of a child having a flexible and ever changing Daemon, and then as they grow older, it choosing to take shapes for longer, and longer, until it finally fixes on something is very appropriate. I've been shifting, never very sure where my feet are, but satisfied with the sensation of cruising along as I figure myself out.

I'm realizing now that there are definite formative traits to myself, things that I don't feel will easily change, and that I identify with every day, no matter what my mood or situation may be:

: I am a witch
: I am a survivor
: I am sensual
: Sex is lifeforce
: I am a preistess
: I connect to God by dancing

I am right now tangling with 14 scholarly articles about masculinity, gender roles, and the effect of a cultural environment on disclosure rates of male childhood sexual assault survivors. I enjoy these articles, despite the rather depressing topic, because I enjoy the growing sense of empathy, and here I am, writing a paper for a class about a topic I am passionate about in all aspects of my life: nurturing healthy sexuality. My world as a priestess and my world as a student are directly overlapping, and I couldn't be happier.

I feel that two very clear, very potent directions for my life energy are forming:
- As a priestess, a witch
- As a therapist, a guide
It is thrilling to feel a sense of direction, but terrifying to figure out if I have to choose between them, or if I can somehow incorporate both of my passions and do everything I want to do with my life.



... I think a lot of this is coming from the musings about what I'm going to do in a year, when I graduate. This seems a very healthy, growth-oriented train of thought. Back to paper writing!

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Ostara Reflections

Spring is coming! Finally, I can taste on the air the anticipation of the change of seasons- warmer weather, softer breezes, new life, new change, growth. I feel it coming in myself, too: it has been a hard winter. It has been a long winter. It has been a cold winter. I am ready to move out of it.

Walking around, I can still see one or two trees that keep their old leaves from last year. I want to say to them, "let go! let go of your old leaves! Die a little, so you can grow!" I wonder what old leaves I still carry, what is left to shed before I can grow.

We had a false start to spring last week. I had a false start to spring last week. The air was fresher, the sun was out, finally I could sit outside comfortably. I was happy, finally, happy to a point that I felt at times my heart would come screaming out of my chest, leaping and dancing. I read rumi and understood exactly what he was talking about, everything was balanced and good- and then, everything shifted, and the snow started again.

Now, I'm waiting for spring again. I'm anticipating spring again. But this time, when the spring of my spiritual existence bursts forth in it's radiant, blossoming beauty, it will be sustainable, self-initiated, liberated spring. I can see it, and taste it, and feel it on the tips of my fingers... And that's what makes these last, dying days of winter so bearable, as I let go of those last few leaves, welcome that last little death, and surrender to change.

Appreciation Circle

It feels good to receive unguarded, unabashed, innocent compliments. It feels even better to give them. How often are our intentions for complimenting another human misinterpreted? How often are our intentions truly misguided? I am learning valuable things to translate into everyday life, as the path of a witch is not exclusively lived in circle, and I must be a priestess in all things I do:

: Know myself and all my parts.
: Walk in honesty
: Appreciate often
: Look people in the eye, speak clearly and firmly.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Class today

I am having a terrible day. There are several things that feed into this, a combination of the general bad mood that has haunted me for the past week, old memories coming back over the weekend, general stupidity on my part, and confusion over the state of a valued friendship. So yes, today mostly sucked.

It was tobacco policy day in my outreach class, and ironically, all I wanted to do all day was smoke cigarettes. I always think my level of sober nicotine intake is highly linked to how moody I am, and days like today, I just want to sit, drink coffee, and chain smoke while wallowing. Anyways. That's where I am.

In class I was desperately trying to follow my planned outline, but kept losing track of things. I was visibly flustered, and I knew my students knew. So I apologized, saying I felt "scatterbrained" and that I was a little stressed. They all understood, and compliments of our rappor built steadily over the semester, the period went smooth enough.

After class, a student stayed behind to talk to me about some issues for next semester. We finished talking, and he asked "How are you?" in that serious caring voice, the kind that carries the undertone of "are you okay?" I gaped for a second- I honestly was so struck by this pointed question that I was about ready to fall over and start crying. I confessed a stressful semester, but said I was overall fine. He offered to be a sounding board, a very gracious offer that I politely declined for obvious reasons.

But that was a very touching moment, that expression of caring. I appreciated it.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Affirmation

I am the sex goddess of the western hemisphere.

Poems

I've been cranking out random poetry lately. Here are two of them:

Vultures
The vultures circle
eyes cast downward,
pacing steps metered
with the frantic pulse
of the dying

The vultures circle
Flesh talons gripping
red ice boxes, fiercely,
and gleaming knives
with ferocious delicacy

The vultures circle
in sweaty scrubs
and dirty booties
smiles hidden
by sterile masks
and blue headdresses

The vultures circle
pacing, still, until
with a swipe of the pen
and a swipe of the knife
they take one fading death
to prevent another.

Betrayal
My breath stops
and my knees weaken, again,
as my heart, quivering, lifts
away from my body
my vision blurs
and muscles shake
as I hasten to write these words
before
my eyes, unbidden,
rise to yours,
again.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

My dinners for the past almost week

Thursday: Beet juice and beer flavored ice cream
Friday: Take out noodles
Saturday: Chili (a friend cooked me dinner, yay!)
Sunday: An orange and some grapes
Monday: Cucumber rolls
Today: Guiness and popcorn

Ah, this is the high life.

Monday, March 10, 2008

things that I love today

- random arguments about nothing of significance that end in laughing with friends
- my mom
- tea
- staying up too late and not getting any work done in favor of forging new friendships
- the "imaginary boyfriend"
- singing
- a fresh alter
- really looking at my shadows
- bunny ears on the nativity set
- realizing that yes, I really can graduate next year
- turkey and cheese sandwiches on whole grain bread
- receiving the text "I'll meet you in the stacks at 2am..."
- waking up next to an unconscious, happy kitty
- slightly warmer temperatures

things that I hate today

- peas
- oversensitive smoke alarms
- 9 am classes
- vertigo
- daylight savings time
- insomnia
- the smell of old beets
- dirty laundry
- rotten grapes
- colds
- allergies
- huge manuals that I have to read
- midterms
- realizing at 8 am on Monday that every hour of every day is booked solid for the next week
- missing my weekly dancing for a month straight

Thursday, March 6, 2008

A book report blog

Sometimes, I hate this class. When we read books that are supposed to be about love and graceful dying, and halfway through the writer beats his wife without apologizing for it.... I have little goodwill towards such sentiments. I'm pasting my book report here, to share my anger.

5March2008

Grace and Grit

This book initially spoke to me for it’s passionate description of deep, soul touching love. I was intrigued by the whirlwind romance and the seeming happy marriage that came out of it, especially the concept of “love at first touch.” I was also happy to see Ken supporting his new wife as she discovered her terminal illness.

However, as I read, my opinions on the health and quality of their relationship slowly deteriorated. The line on page 8 that raised red flags for me (being a survivor of an emotionally and physically abusive relationship myself) was in Treya’s poem “I trust him more than/ I trust the universe.” I was also concerned about the sentiment expressed on page 10, in which Treya talks about how she is so obsessed with Ken that she gets in a car accident and runs out of gas. This kind of love may seem nice in movies and books, however it is heavy with boundary issues, and I worry when people are so quick to trust without looking further at the person they are involved with.

Around page 60 Treya began to assert herself more thoroughly in her treatment. While many of the points Ken brings up about balancing assertiveness with letting go are very valid and necessary for well balanced individuals, Ken seems to focus very thoroughly on what she did wrong, and what she needed to fix, than applauding her strength as one might expect the spouse of a cancer patient to do. There was also a very shocking and disturbing moment when Treya is relating her friend that keeps her very happy and laughing telling jokes about beating his wife… It was in very poor taste, and surprising to me that as a woman, she was willing to listen to those jokes- and laugh at them!

I began to really question the quality of their relationship and sense in such a quick descision to get married around page 150, as they started contracting. Treya seems to take a great deal of personal responsibility for Ken’s happiness, “Maybe I need someone simpler, less sensitive, less intelligent, so they won’t be hurt by the way I am.” “Everything I do seems to give him pain… Is it just me continuing to draw attention to myself when he’s the one who really needs attention? Just me feeling sorry for myself, unable to really feel his needs?” I almost exploded at these sentences. I can’t blame her for writing them, as she is quite obvious trapped in a victim mentality, however I cannot believe the audacity of Ken to allow her to feel that way, and to publish it so widely in this book!

It’s shameful, that a woman fighting CANCER should feel that she is personally responsible for the happiness and well being of her supposed loving husband, and the way she continues to flatter him, demeaning and devaluing herself in the process, is heart wrenchingly difficult to read. This is the mentality of a victim, someone who has been stomped on most of her life, and is now in a relationship where her partner feels he knows what she should be doing better than she does. “The greater the love, the greater the pain.” – This should be the motto of domestic violence. How sickening to read it in a book supposedly about love and graceful dying.

The book at that point spirals into a set of explanations about how he felt, where he attempts to gently degrade himself, “When fear overcomes me, my ordinary lightness of outlook… degenerates into sarcasm,” while mercilessly ripping into Treya, “I felt I had no control over my life… because Treya always had the trump card: ‘But I have cancer.’” He exercises power and control by threatening to end the relationship, withdraw as her sole source of strength and security while undergoing therapy, going so far as to make plans in a dramatic fashion until she is in tears, pleading for him to come back. He has conversations with her friends about how controlling she is, effectively putting them on his side as the victim of Treya’s selfishness. He speaks of walking into a gun shop and how he wanted to kill someone specific.

This violence hits it’s peak on page 154. At this point, I had to set the book down and take several deep breaths, to keep from throwing it across the room or setting it on fire, or some other sort of irrational resolution of my anger.

“I hit her. Again. And again. I kept hollering ‘Get out, goddamnit, get out!’ I kept striking her, she kept screaming, ‘Stop hitting me! Stop hitting me!’”

Right now, I’m having trouble forming my thoughts into coherent words. Maybe Ken Wilber missed a memo, but you DO NOT ABUSE YOUR SPOUSES! I don’t care if the spouse is a controlling monopolizing whatever, you file for divorce if that is the case! I don’t care if you’re at your wits end from chemo and life and death situations and god knows what else, you do not hit your spouse! No! Bad Buddhist!

Perhaps even more inconceivable than the fact that he decided to take his rage out on his wife like that is his method of explaining it away:

“Looking back on it, Treya and I both felt that incident was a crucial turning point… For Treya’s part, she began letting up on her monopolizing tendencies… For my part, I was learning the delicate task of establishing boundaries and announcing needs.”

Not once does he apologize for hitting her, or say it was wrong. He vaguely mentions that it is not something to be proud of, but he does not apologize for his actions, or lament them- in fact, he praises the incident as a turning point in their relationship, something that spawned good. And notice, too, that the flaws in the relationship as it was were not his fault, according to him- she needed to back off, he needed to set boundaries against her, protect himself from her, state what he needed and he desired, and she needed to fulfill his needs.

The rest of the book was hard for me to read with the red fiery anger that the writer had beaten his spouse and not even had the decency to apologize for it. Most of it went by in a haze, and I was quick to point out criticisms in the amount Ken seems to freely talk about his life, his publications, his interests and research, things that have nothing to do with the memory of the woman this book is supposedly about, the woman he controlled and abused with his words and actions.

I tried with this book, I tried very hard to stay open to a love story, open to the impossible, and open to the hidden message. I read the story of a woman who was strong and brilliant, and tragically shone like a red giant star before dissolving into one last dying burst of light, and yes, when I could pick past Ken’s self enhancing stories and interpretations, it was a beautiful story. However, it was too roughly shadowed by the writer, and yes, one incident on one night, on one page of their lives and this book, one incident without apology or afterthought- I will loathe a person for that. And I won’t apologize for it, because it simply isn’t right.

Sunday, February 17, 2008

A collection of names

Over the past year, a variety of men have passed in and out of my life. I am realizing today the set of Grey's Anatomy inspired names I've accrued for them. So, I will list as many as I can remember, in no particular order:

McSandwich
McMushy
The Yeast Infection
McMetal
CoastBoy
McBoring
McStupidface
McIdiot
Mushyman
Mr. Douchebag
McDoctor
McLawyer
The Hot Guy
The Club Guy

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Definition of academic misery

Today:
4 hours of researching lizards
+ 3 hours of reading journals about sexual assault
+ all 7 hours spent alone in the house
+ 3 cans of diet pepsi
+ a can of spaghetti-os
+ some frozen greenbeans
+ pajamas
= Today

Monday, February 4, 2008

Sleeping

I, like any other of my college peers, am intimately familiar with the temptation to sleep in strange places. Back when I attended EMU, I had a few particular lounges I preferred for my midday naps. Now, I have a series of coffee shops I know have comfy couches, and it is not so unusual to find me napping in one of them, nor is it out of place to find me sleeping in an empty Dennison or East Hall classroom, or deep in the bowels of the undergraduate library. My roommate sometimes literally spends several days in a row locked in the art school, sleeping in studios. It's a part of college life, I find, just like espresso or beer.

However, what makes me angry is the chance discovery of one of my college peers unconscious at a computer in the fishbowl. Resources are limited, people. Don't take up a seat for your sleeping needs when I desperately need the computer you're sleeping at to print out the paper I wrote at 3am last night and need to print out before my class starts three minutes from now. Sleep elsewhere! Limited resources, people, limited resources!

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Να Σημανουν την Ανασταση

Να Σημανουν την Ανασταση -- Let Them Ring In The Resurrection.

From 1967-1974 Greece, the birthplace of Democracy, was under a strict dictatorship. People were randomly imprisoned for belief that they were communists or lefties, the country was under rule by a military run, ultra conservative dictatorship. The entire country suffered.

In 1950 my dad was born, in 1968, a year after the start of this rule, he started college. The years get fuzzy for me at this point, but he eventually got his bachelors and started an uprising against the dictatorship at his university. He then spent some number of years in jail, and once the government collapsed in 1974, ran off to the US.

This has been a fact about my father I've known for over six years, but until yesterday, failed to actually research the surrounding events or ask him about it. Now, I'm starting to read the history, and realize that my father was involved in something much larger than history books give it credit for. This strengthens my pride for him, and my resolve to question him further about his experiences next time I visit him in Sweden.

Imagine that, I am so closely tied to a true revolutionary, and didn't even know it..

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Telling Dreams

I had a dream last night so curious that it's prompted my return to the blogosphere. Names and nicknames have been avoided to protect the guilty.

"They" were making a movie about his life, and asked me to audition. And so I did, and I was landed with the role of playing him, the main star, the big cheese, etc etc. My life suddenly revolved around preparing for this role, imitating and becoming him.

He taught me his mannerisms and habits, and his catch phrases and slang, and I slowly picked them up, applying them to my life in an effort to understand his character better. My body was changed, slowly- I lost weight, my skin tone was changed gradually, my hair dyed, implants here and reductions there until my face mostly resembled his. In excruciatingly realistic perception, he tattooed replicas of his tattoos onto me, and I drove the needle through various extremities to match his piercings- well, those that I could match, anyways.

We associated more and more as I changed into his character, and I saw less and less of my life before, my friends, my family, my house, everything. Finally, we were ready to begin shooting the movie.

In a cinematic sweep (my subconscious, apparently, does cinematic sweeps), my perception swooped in on two dark figures standing close on the corner of a movie set. We stood like twins and lovers, I had become a beautiful, small, female mirror to him. He leaned in towards me and my dream became excruciatingly vivid as I observed the lines on his face, the movement of his eyes, half lidded, the hairs on my cheek raising with each of his exhales. I could smell his scent, a soft musk and a particular brand of shampoo, and his breath, like clove spiced rice. He said in a very soft and husky voice, "you know, I love you like this."

And for a moment, I was rushed with desire and delight, closely followed by their sister, despair, as I reveled in what I had gained, and realized all I had sacrificed for it.

I then experienced another emotion: a sour mood as my alarm clock went off and I rose, astounded by the implications of my dream. Every once and a while, a dream comes along that affects my perception of the situations around me. In this case, it flaunted what I already knew.