Quarter Midgets: Hvy. B and the Grands

I've mentioned that my last year in quarter midgets, I raced Hvy. 160 and Hvy. B. I left out that my brother raced Hvy. B and Hvy. A that year.

My poor dad.

You know that part in the movie promotion I posted in my first quarter midget post where the dad is yelling something about working together? Yeah. I've had that talk when I tried to go for a pass that wasn't totally there, ended up taking my brother out that race. Or when he pulled a dumbass move and spun us both out (odd how he got the short stick both times). At least we had a family friend to help my dad out that year.

Racing Hvy. B in CA in 2003 was like racing Sr. Honda in 2001, but with more power and more seat time. It was easily the most fun I've had racing. Of course, that fun came from not just racing friends, but racing enemies. You see, 3 of the top 5 racers in that class that year were from my club. And two of those three were my brother and I. Versus a kid whose father had a big, rude mouth. The club races became less about winning and more about blocking. Whichever sibling was ahead made sure the "enemy" was delayed as much as possible. Or if he was in between...well, we played our fun games. J says she only vaguely remembers this rivalry when she went to the track, but I remember this person's dad coming up to us after the main and offering me his hand saying something to the tune of good job blocking, next time try racing. It got kind of out of hand.

We crashed so much. Surprisingly, not so much at the club races, but everywhere else it was pure mayhem. I remember this one time at an event in Sacramento, before the race even started 3 people flipped their cars, including two of my group. We were sitting there for half an hour while they repaired the wall (it was just plywood sheets with old tires between, so they sometimes broke). Sometimes out of the 10 cars that got to start the main race, only 4 finished.

Oh yes, we had fun.

But nothing was more fun than the 2003 Western Grands. I've mentioned the Grands briefly before. There are three week long Grand National events each year, during the summer - one in the western half, one in the eastern half, and one on any of the dirt tracks. Because of these races I have been to Florida without going to Orlando or the beach. I have been to Pennsylvania without doing anything historical. I've raced on the parking lot on the inside of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. I've been to Colorado without seeing the Rockies. I went to Canada and Washington and Oregon and even stayed somewhat close to home at Madera. Any family vacation was a Grands.

(I spy with my little eye a young me!) And for the kids they were vacations. We practiced one day, qualified the next, and depending on how we qualified, raced a few times (or maybe even just once if you qualified in the top 5!) during the week. The rest of the time we were free at the track. See, that's the nice thing about being a parent at these events - your kids generally aren't old enough to drive, so you don't worry about them going too far. And if your kid has a cell phone, they're just a text away. I guess there is a bit of cause for worry though, since at the Grands it seemed all of a sudden acceptable to rent a golf cart for a week. And, you know, since all these kids race cars, why not let them drive them here and there? I've jumped on and off of golf carts going full speed. I've been thrown off a few times when taking sharp turns. I know the places to stand/sit/hold on to so that won't happen. We've had at least 10 kids in a golf cart at once. I'm not entirely sure how, but the thing still moved. Shoving people off to make the golf cart go faster was fun though.

That's the thing. Mixed this thing intense national competition, it was just a big party! Everyday, you hung out with people you knew, you made friends with people in your class, you just did all this crazy stuff kids do! And everyday, you remembered your friends were your competition. You stayed away from their trailers, their cars, their parents, and they stayed away from yours.

My parents decided the 2003 Western Grands would be our last Grands. There was some big debacle over which B motor which kid got. I let my brother choose because my focus was Hvy. 160. At that time, I was leading all series I ran in Hvy. 160. I was top 5 in Hvy. B, maybe top 3, but I wasn't leading any of them. I think my brother regrets his decision to this day.

In case you can't read that, it says I qualified 3rd in Hvy. B, straight into the main event. It also meant that I would start 3rd (top 5 qualifiers were inverted for the main event). And, the most important number, in the last column. 2. I finished 2nd, the closest my brother or I came to winning the only championship that eluded our family, a Grands. I was the only girl in the top 10. I lost to the boy who holds the record for the most Grands won. You won't find any records of these sort of things online.

And, okay, so going from 3rd to 2nd isn't much of an accomplishment, right? But consider this. At the green flag, two rows back, someone rammed the person ahead of them, who ran up on the back of my car, knocking a part called the tailcone loose. That's not allowed to come off, otherwise I'm disqualified. My dad motioned for me to pull into the pit area, they reattached it and I ran from 10th to 2nd.

The results never show the stories behind the race. You wouldn't know that the guy who won came up to me before the race and shook my hand and talked to me for a few minutes to help me calm my nerves. You wouldn't know that my hands shook as I put on my gloves and neck brace. You wouldn't know that it was my good friend who ran into my tailcone, that I was so mad I almost punched him after the race. You wouldn't know that my dad promised if my brother and I finished top 5 we'd go to another Grands. You wouldn't know at the awards ceremony, half of the people up there for Hvy. B were from CA and you wouldn't know all the silly poses we did as a group. You wouldn't know that they played Allstar by Smashmouth as they introduced us or that I sat between my two guy friends and one of them joked that he was giving my brother and I 5 laps to either crash each other out or be 1-2. You wouldn't know that I overheard fans of a competitor from another state say to him, "At least you know the girl won't give you any problems."

I've avoided talking about it, for the most part, but it's what I promised with the start of this so that is how we shall close this exploration. I am a girl who spent most of her developing years in a man's sport. I only like talking about the benefits I got from racing. But that ignores the things I went through to get there.

Quarter Midgets: The Group

It's a strange thing to be suddenly thrust into the center of a social circle, as I was after my Sr. Honda success. I only started hanging out with that group at the beginning of 2002's racing season. These were the Pomona boys and the Tri Valley kids mixed with the Baylands girls and the random American person. It wasn't just the Baylands GT kids I hung out with anymore. I had to completely adjust how I interacted in a group in 2002. And being in the limelight in 2003...boy did I learn a lot!

See, I say kids to describe this group but most of these kids weren't exactly kids, they were all teenagers. I was the second youngest in the group, and yet I was the most important girl. Think of your cliques, your groups, in middle school. The boys and the girls were just starting to hang out together, right? Maybe a few boys would go eat lunch with the girls and eventually the two groups melded? Or a couple formed and the two groups were stuck together? I had already gone through that awkward new group formation stage at the race track when it happened to my group at school.

Being one of the core members of a group is also a quick way to learn about being a teenager. Most of what I learned about sex and drugs came from hanging out with that group, as members were very vocal about their experiences with both. I learned how to gossip, how to start rumors, how to save face, how to flirt, from being in this group. But I didn't use any of it. I just sat back and let people talk around me. I'd speak up when required, but I preferred to take it all in. I eventually became aware that it was worth my time and effort to maintain my alliances with these people. See, we were the group that everyone wanted to be a part of. We ran the race track. We were the popular kids. The kids you wanted to hang out with, the kids who everyone wanted to beat. It was fun being "that" group. You got to do basically whatever the heck you wanted off the track and on, you had so many friends you never worried they would do something to hurt your car. It made stiff competition a little more fun. In higher levels of racing you don't have those friendships off the track, only bitter competition, and that is often what creates wrecks (which creates more dislike, which creates more wrecks).

However, at the club, I wasn't part of that popular group and my choices ended up costing me some friendships. It is worth pointing out that I did try to balance my club friends with these cooler friends. I would hang out with one set of friends at my club, the cool group at all other tracks. I still said hi, waved and smiled as I passed by, wished them luck before races, went to their trailers after they qualified to make sure they were getting on okay, but it wasn't enough. I was once confronted by my club friends about this, my lack of hanging out. I just said that it only made sense that I would hang out with these people when I could since I got to see them less. I promised I would hang out with them more. The one I said that to didn't believe me. I didn't believe it myself. This is the first time I distinctly remember lying about something of significance.

It's fun to look back and notice things about your group that you didn't notice before. I realized there were 4 people the group centered around. Two girls, two guys. Each gender set were close friends. One boy had the same personality as one girl, and did the other pair. Also how those four all raced both Hvy. 160 and Hvy. B in 2003. And for the four of us, it was our last year. We all had something to prove and this was our year to do it.

Quarter Midgets: The Sr. Honda Years

(See my purple dolphin car? XD I loved that car...) When I moved into Senior Honda, I was 10 years old. My brother was 8. He was racing two classes, Junior Stock and Light Modified. While my class used a Honda engine, his were Deco. I can't quite explain the differences, partially because I don't know the details myself but mainly b/c I don't think you all will understand anyway. Basically Honda motors were slower and functioned differently - it was more about getting your momentum up and keeping it. Deco engines had more horsepower - they got up and went when you needed them. Think Prius v. Mustang. Sure, Honda engines (that Prius) were more economical and required less upkeep, but those Decos (the Mustang), man were they fun to drive.

For some reason, my brother kinda ruled Jr. Stock. I swear he would break every track record at every track we went to. There were a few times he broke his own track record. No kidding. My dad would bring both of us up to the local track, not more than 20 minutes away from where we lived, and have us just run laps at night.

Even though I had access to this extra practice, I wasn't so great at Sr. Honda. Not right away. I have a very different driving style than my brother. You see how tight those shocks are compressed in the photo above (or below)? That (among other things) makes the car tighter - harder to spin out, but also means it has a lot of "push" towards the wall. My brother's shocks did not look like that. They were at least an inch less compressed, if not more. That's a big difference. But my dad didn't know any better when I started racing, so he set my car up like he set up my brother's car. It took my brother driving my car, after I complained so much about it not driving right (and spinning out a few times), and him saying it felt fine for my dad to realize he couldn't set up our cars the same way.

Once we figured that out though, I was golden.

In 2000, there was a little while where I raced Sr. Stock instead of Sr. Honda. I can't quite remember why this happened, but I wasn't too bad. My dad considered getting me another car to race, so I could do both classes, but he didn't want to be running 4 cars. By this time my brother was racing Lt. Mod and Lt. B. There was more competition in Sr. Honda, however, and I pressured my dad to let me go back to racing that class.

(Wow, I was so flat.) In 2001, I started racing 2 classes, Sr Honda and Lt. 160. Lt. and Hvy. 160 were new Honda classes. Whereas the normal Honda was 120cc, these were 160cc. How original! How exciting! I got a new car, a bigger car that went faster and was just so much fun! In 2001 I also started taking racing seriously. Before racing was just a fun new activity to me. I got to drive a car! And I was only 10! It's a novelty! I'd bring in my trophies for my classmates to see and brag about how cool it was. But then I started caring about where I finished and the points and remembering who crashed into me. And I started taking racing seriously. I wanted to win. I wanted to break track records. I wanted to have championships to my name. I always wanted to race cleanly, fairly, kindly, but I wanted to prove I was a force to be reckoned with in this sport.

So I did. In October of 2002 I became the only girl to win a Monza championship that year. No girl had won a Monza championship in a few years, actually, and Sr. Honda, though a lower level class, had the most cars, the most competition.  During the awards ceremony later that afternoon, I sat next one of my competitors and one of of my brother's competitors. My competitor ignored me, leaned away. My brother's congratulated me, posed for pictures with me. That day, I learned that some boys don't like getting beat by girls, and I learned it the hard way.

For the most part, I've avoided talking about my feelings and experiences outside of the race car. But I remember this weekend vividly. I set the track record, but one of my close guy friends qualified second. He briefly held the track record, but I stole it away. He teased me relentlessly the rest of the weekend, and the competition between us heightened. After the heat race, which I won, one of his friends made some comment about how I must have been cheating, there's no way a girl could do that. He stood up for me. After this photo was taken, he came up and hugged me and said good job. He finished third, in the race and the series. My only other girl racer friend finished second, in the race and the series. She never congratulated me. Our relationship dwindled after that. Suddenly I had all the male attention, not for my looks which she relied on (remember, I was a board, you saw!), but for my accomplishments.

Quarter Midgets: The Clubs, the Races and the Cars

Quarter midgets are raced across the US and in one part of Canada. Thousands of kids race these crazy things each year. As a result, you have to have some way to organize the kids. It's divided into 13 regions, generally matching up with the regions in the US.

Each of those black dots represent the location of a track. Each track is called a club. Recently, there has been a split in quarter midgets and they have divided into two programs. It's annoying b/c other than politics, they are the same. I point this out because the track near LA in CA is no longer there (and two in FL I think, wow). You'll also notice CA is divided into two regions. This division becomes very important later on when I discuss my friendships (as does this missing club), so please keep it in mind.

A club is responsible for governing itself and the size often determines how it will govern. A smaller club with 5 families or so will be more lax than a club with, say, 75 families. The club we were part of was big. Biggest in CA. It got a little annoying with how political it got at times, but groups of adults are bound to find something to fight over. Both my parents have held positions of authority, so we'd go to the monthly meetings held at a pizza place. My dad was president, VP twice, and county liaison at least 3 times. My mom was secretary, head of tower, and kept track of the points. Each club takes care of itself. The money from the snack shack goes into track repairs, upgrades for the stands, etc. It's all volunteer, I can't remember anyone getting paid to do anything at the track. The families become very close. So, naturally, your friends tend to be the ones from the same club as you.

Club races were the most common races, where you just raced against people in your own club. These days were shorter, and a few, elite, families would go out to dinner after. You strengthened your bonds here because when it came to the regional races, you didn't want to be alone.

My family only ran the regional series a few times. The regional series, like the 100-lapper series, didn't offer the most competition. That's not the say winning one of those championships wasn't prestigious, it just wasn't that fun. The days were long, and it seemed to be more club v. club than car v. car. It was the theory that if the other people in your club were successful, you were always racing against the best in the state and therefore were also good, even if you didn't do as well that particular time. It's like if a basketball team has only one good player, but they highlight him so much, the rest of the team just has to get the ball to him and they score a ton. It's okay! Just so long as your team wins! Your stats don't matter! Except, no one reallllly thinks that, right?

Car v. car was reserved for the Monza series. I thought of it as the all CA series, since we raced on every pavement quarter midget track in CA once in the series. Just five races, but it offered the most competition in the state, and often drew a few from Oregon and Arizona (my biggest competition in Lt. 160 came from a guy my age from Oregon). This is where the prestige was. This is where the biggest car counts were. This is where you went if you wanted to be the best in the state. And my brother and I managed to get our paws on a few of these.

When you get older, you start remembering who crashed into you, people who made mean comments about you behind your back. So you get them back on the track. You start branching out and becoming friends with people from other tracks - a personal example is a group of boys I called the Pomona Boys. So you work with them to better yourself, sometimes against your own club. And what happens at the Grand Nationals, the week long races during the summer, when you make friends with people across the country? What happens to your loyalties there?

Just like you have an affinity for someone who has the same kind of passenger car as you, if you drove the same type of quarter midget, you stuck together. I raced GT American, and the children of my parent's closest friends did as well. Until I was 12, maybe only 11, I stuck with my own kind, drivers in my own club, drivers of my own chassis. But that too with age dissipates, as there became no clear majority in my friends. Boomerang, Fiser, Nervos, it didn't matter as much as we got older.

What mattered was if you could win, and if you were a girl? If you could look good doing it.

Quarter Midgets: The Beginning

(Note: I love you guys so I'm going to try and find as many of my own photos as I can to help explain. Even if it means taking pictures of pictures because we don't have a functioning scanner. They're limited right now, b/c my mom is being a butt and isn't letting me search for old photos, but we'll make do. And if you're curious for more, you can check back later when I do get photos.)

I ice skated before I raced. Let's just get that out in the open right there. I started ice skating when I was 3. I started racing when I was 9.

My brother is two years younger than I am. When he was a couple months past 3, my parents took us to the county fair. They had those silly two-seater go-karts you could drive around the little track they set up in an unused parking lot. My brother rode with my dad, I with my mom. He fell in love with it and would not stop talking about racing. He wanted to race. Right at that moment. After a little bit of research, my dad figured out you could start racing these things called quarter midgets at 4 and a half. Well, start training to race them. You couldn't race anything besides a novice class until you turned 5 or, for those of us who joined after we were 5, until you had run 3 races in a novice class. We had my brother signed up for training when he was 4 and not long after his half birthday, he was being trained to race quarter midgets.

My family didn't go to our first national event until the summer my brother was 7 years old. I had a regional ice skating competition in the middle of the week long race. I didn't place, for the third competition in a row. I wasn't getting anywhere in ice skating, forced to make a decision to make it a hobby or truly pursue skating as a career. I quit and was in training for racing that fall.

My first quarter midget race was the Winter Nationals in Las Vegas. It's not actually a national event, as it mainly draws a specific group from CA, with a few friends from the surrounding states, but we call it such just the same. There's no actual track. The race is held in a parking lot, a track outlined by hay bales. It's moved casinos over the years, and it's not actually held in Vegas, but in Primm, about 30 minutes West, just inside of Nevada on I-15.

(This photo was taken 7 months later, but everything looks the same.) Anyway, that was my first race. There was only one other person in the Senior Novice class (you had to be 9 to race and senior class, he was 10). I qualified fast time (I was very good at qualifying) but was second in the heat and main. It's okay. I didn't know how to pass. They teach you that in training, but it's much different when the person doesn't actually want to be passed, you know? Just like with anything in sports. You can practice a move against your teammates, but it's always that much harder against someone who doesn't actually want the move to work.

By the time the above photo was taken, I had graduated novice and moved into Sr. Honda. That's when the real fun began.

Quarter Midgets: Extra Credit

Oh hi. I won this Hvy. B race and did a donut in the infield after because this was my last Monza race and I won. It's 4am where I am right this moment. I've been in shock at finding this video for the past 30 minutes, maybe more. I just searched quarter midget and Madera because that was my favorite track and I did well at it. This was the very first video to pop up.

OMGWTFBBQ. Good night. No more crazy things tonight, okay?

Quarter Midgets

I had a loverly post on here about revisiting my past that centered around my racing days and my friends and what I learned.
Then I got sidetracked looking up the insane crashes some of these kids have had.
Quarter midgets are...well. This.

Hi. I've done that. It's fun. It's scary. I raced mainly on pavement on tracks about 1/20th of a mile. Yeah. That small. And the slow classes hit about 30 mph whereas the quicker ones, well, we were about 55. Outside of a top fuel dragster, I bet these are the most Gs you will ever feel in racing. You can start at 5 years old. You stop at 16. Most stop the year they turn 13. They're called quarter midgets because they're roughly one quarter the size of a full midget. Those look like this.

Can you tell the size difference? Good. Now then. To make sure you know the size of a midget race car...my brother who is 6ft 2in, about 180lbs has a very difficult time fitting into a midget. His knees hit the steering wheel and, even after adjusting the seat to be as low as possible, his helmet will curve over the top.
Anyway, I guess I just wanted to explain to you how intense it was to be a girl in this sport. But when I found those videos, it linked me to another I'd love for you guys to watch.



I know it's a promotion for a movie, but I've been through these moments. I watched my brother chew on his glove before a race. I know what it's like to look into someone's eyes and see this completely different person who is just totally focused on the upcoming race. My parents have lectured me and my brother about working together. My dad would hang on to those chain link fences and circle around with us. My mom dropped the video camera when she was filming my brother's first flip. I could have made this documentary.
And I can explain what it was like, growing up a girl in this world. And that is what we're going to focus on the rest of this week.

Feed Me!

I am the epitome of pathetic single living right here. Seriously, I doubt I would have even gotten dressed today had I not had training at the Humane Society and even then I just threw on jeans instead of sweatpants. Go me.

But what really, and I mean REALLY, sealed the deal for me was when I went to the grocery store. We have no food in this house. Now, my family is gone racing tonight and I couldn't go b/c I had that training. No one, not even my dogs, are here. It's me and the rabbit. And I'm not eating him. So my mom left me some money and told me to get myself some food.

I picked up a couple of Lean Cuisines and a pint of mango sorbet. And some gummy bears, but they were only a dollar and I swear Kroger (Gerbes for you Missouri folk) has the best freaking gummy bears on this planet.

Okay. Just consider that last sentence. I feel the need to qualify my purchase of dollar gummy bears.

So yeah. Basically I sit around and eat and play video games and occasionally get off my butt and go somewhere. My summer's going well, how about you? >.>

(It actually is going well. I've been having a lot of fun. I'm just making fun of myself. Carry on.)

No thanks, I'm just looking

I've been out and about a lot the past few days, interacting with a lot of people. And I've been noticing a lot of people looking at me. Maybe it's been my outfits - either totally cute or totally chill. We're talking tank tops with boobage and skinnier jeans or guy style shirt with shorts.

And here's the thing, it's not been just the casual "Oh, I'm just looking around" it's been dead on eye contact. It's starting to freak me out. But in a good way too. I'm still a girl, after all.

It started with Blader. He was roller blading. I was walking my woofs (I call the family dogs my woofs). He passed by twice. Smiled at me both times. I saw him a bit later. He was sitting on a bench, catching his breath. He looked up and smiled at me again. Now, when someone is that friendly I smile back and assume I know them. But I was given three chances to look at Blader and I am certain I do not know him. We perhaps went to high school together, but I don't think he was my year and I know we did not share any classes.

I recently went to lunch with two friends from high school (I'm reconnecting, isn't that nice? I'll write a post about it as more develops). We met at a local mall, had a long lunch and caught up, gossiped a lot, then walked around. Twice my friends pointed out that a guy was looking at me. I joked back that since there are three cute girls and we're being rather loud, he could be looking at any of us, but they were certain it was me. I don't have proof, and prefer to think that they were just trying to make me feel good about myself.

I went to Ball State the other day to meet with an advisor. I arrived and parked near a residence hall. A group of guys were walking back from a class. A tall brown haired guy looked at me. Maybe it was because I looked lost. I tilt my head and smile a bit. He grins.

Tomorrow I go to the humane society for my group training. We'll see if the staring continues.

Killers = a preview of my life?

I don't usually do movie reviews. I actually don't consider this a review. But sometimes the premises of movies are just too darn close to what's happening in your life, you have to talk about it. And, keep in mind, this is all "tongue in cheek," if you will. If you plan on watching this movie, please don't read further than this paragraph. It's a decent movie, it's not exactly as it seems if you've seen the TV commercials, it's predicable and there are poorly scripted moments. I didn't go in expecting more. Now please stop reading if you wish to avoid spoilers (though it's really only the first fifteen minutes).

Hi. I'm A. I was recently dumped by my geek boyfriend who is less attractive than me because he cheated on me and didn't want to deal with that guilt. It's also my one deal breaker. And K and I tested quite a few I thought would be, so I can say that with a bit of certainty.

The girl in the movie is Jen (played by the oh so pretty blonde Katherine Heigl). She was recently dumped by her less attractive (yeah, not difficult for her) geek boyfriend because she caught him cheating on her. It's a little subtle. I didn't catch it until my mom and her best friend pointed it out after the movie. But apparently it's there. The cheating, I mean. The rest is blatantly obvious.

Jen goes on a vacation with her parents in France and happens upon hot spy (played by Ashton Kutcher). (No picture needed. Just embrace the hotness.) Of course, he can't tell her he's a spy, they fall in love, he gets out of the business, they get married, yadda yadda yadda....enter the storyline you imagined from the previews. It gets a little like Hot Fuzz at times.

So basically my point here is that I should die my hair blonde and go on a trip to France with my parents to find this sexy little guy (double points if you know who this is). But I forgot. If we're going by his show, I'd have to be the spy. Darn. At least I can move well in heels? Because, well, you know, his girl is always in heels...? Oh nevermind, I'm just making jokes no one will understand.

Just know this. I'm happy today. I haven't been happy the past two days. And with a little luck, this will continue through the weekend and into next week.

Home Body

You know the thing I probably miss the most about apartment living? I had a TV in my room. I also really miss the food I ate, but that's another post. When I had a TV in my room, I didn't have to worry about bothering other people when I wanted to watch my food shows or the Disney Channel or the latest sappy movie on Oxygen or Bravo or whatever. I could play Fallout 3 or Twilight Princess for HOURS on end, ignoring my homework and no one would bother me.

You can't do that here. There's too many other people. You can't fall asleep warm in your bed with the TV glowing from across the room. You can bring a blanket downstairs and sleep on the comfy couches if you really want, but it's not the same as your bed. You can't spend the day in your room without people bothering you every hour. They're going here, they're going there, feed the dogs, take the dogs out, make sure to pick up this for me. I liked being responsible for myself. Here I feel like I'm being babysat. Or maybe I'm doing the babysitting. I run the errands. That's what I do.

On the other hand, I like being in a familiar place, especially now. It's strange though that I also take so much comfort from going new places, experiencing new things. Especially now. J once called me a walking contradiction, and I've come to see that it really applies to me. Part of me wants to curl up in my bed for days and cope with this. But another part of me says to hell with it all, let's go somewhere. Let's get out of here. Let's go do something new and exciting (apparently I like to use plurals when telling myself to do things). I have this need to take myself out of the known, to make me uncomfortable in order to cope with things.

Does this make sense to you guys? Do you classify yourself as a home body, but then when something, anything, goes wrong, feel the need to get away from anything, everything, familiar? I felt this way when K died. I knew I'd be able to handle going to her funeral, but I just wanted to get away, leave, stay in Utah and ski for the rest of the school year. That was my immediate reaction. Have any of you reacted like me before?

And Moving On... (part 2)

I had a very lengthy two part post explaining what went down over the weekend, and then I realized I didn't want to reveal that much. Well that, and everything I had to say can be summed up in slightly less than a decent paragraph.

K first told me that I should forget about him via text. I bothered him about it until he told me he didn't love me anymore. I dealt with that, but texted him the next day because I still felt something wasn't right about the break up. It then was revealed that K cheated on me, twice, with intentions to do it again. And I don't mean drunken make-outs. This boy knew what he was doing. Sunday night to almost 6am Monday morning we talked online. It was, and will be, our last conversation.

I am okay. I am hurt, but I know nothing that happened was my fault. I do not wish K ill overall, though I have moments where I come close to hatred. I've considered escaping, getting away. But there's nothing to face. I didn't do anything wrong. I don't have any guilt, I don't have any regrets.

Hey, I told you guys this year was going to shape me. I'm starting volunteering at the Humane Society soon. I've emailed the person in charge of the whitewater and backpacking trip to see if they have availability in July. I've basically decided on Ball State...I think I have to decide to attend before they'll let me know how delayed my graduation will be. If a ton of my credits don't transfer, I'll go back to Mizzou. That is what this hinges on. I am not spending more than 5 years in college, unless I get some sort of graduate degree. Which I am not planning on.

If you have messages regarding K, feel free to email or otherwise contact me, but don't leave it in the comments. Anything else you wanna comment on, feel free. But let's not get public with the inevitable hate-fest, yeah?

Facebook First Impressions

This is why I hate Facebook. I see all these pictures of people I don't know and I make assumptions.

Like a racing family friend's son's girlfriend. I don't know her. Never will. I see the son maybe a couple times a year when/if he comes out to race. But his mom posted pictures of the girlfriend's senior prom (the son is graduated) on Facebook and I looked through them and I formed opinions of her. Very negative opinions. I refrained from clicking on her page because I fear it will only make things worse. And it would. I'd have a whole new set of opinions on this girl I will never meet. I already view this girl as snobby, average intelligence, needing a nose job, probably slutty, and annoying. And here's the thing, I can prove most those wrong right now. She's not snobby or else the mom wouldn't rave about her to my mom. She doesn't need a nose job at all. She's not wearing anything to make me think she would be promiscuous and she has been dating this boy for over a year. She's probably not an airhead b/c the boy went through his phase of those (each one lasted about 2 weeks). I can't say anything to her intelligence, though if I went to her Facebook page I'm sure I could find her college (or lack thereof) and have new opinions of her! Even if the two get married and my family is invited (as I suspect will someday happen, the families are insanely close), I probably won't attend and will never meet this girl. So why is it that I can have opinions of her just from seeing the standard photos taken before prom?

It's why I like meeting people in person much better. My brother graduated yesterday and after graduation we had a barbecue at our house. Steak, not pork - for some reason people out here think pork when you say bbq. Out West we do things up all fancy like, I guess. I digress. It was small, family and racing based. My mom's best friend showed up. My aunt and uncle were visiting. Our crew chief brought his two year old son (his wife showed up after her nursing shift). Then there's B. B is loud, loves to eat and is always telling funny stories. He stayed at our house for 3 weeks back when I was in high school. He was in the middle of choosing a school out here, racing, and looking for a house. Our family became close. B brought his friend in the same program, G to the bbq. First impression wasn't good. But I let it be pushed aside when I realized how similar he and I were. He spent the first 20 minutes at my house outside talking on his phone. Major choices aside (he's motorsports and electrical engineering, plus CS minor), he reminded me of myself. At first he was shy, let B do all the talking, but slowly broke out of his shell as we hit on topics he could relate to. The EE comment came after my brother saying he was on the robotics team for the high school. His CS minor prompted a small discussion about Mac v. Windows which led to Steam/Valve which led to should I un-partition my laptop. When he heard my brother's text alert (Navi's "hey! listen!"), he played his FFVII battle ringtone. I played my Portal ringtone. He was able to hold his own about the Gulf Coast against my aunt, who is so opinionated she drives ME crazy.

But had I just been given G's Facebook page? I totally would have brushed him off. He's friends with B which makes me a little hesitant - B is so overwhelming, someone with my personality gets freaked out sometimes. And G's page makes him look like a douche (I'm not friends with him, stop looking right now people, I'm allowed to stalk him to prove this experiment) who is just going to college because his parents made him. He likes country music, an immediate dislike in my book, and does an incredible job of hiding his nerdiness which makes him come off as a frat boy/jock.

So what do you guys think? Do you friend people you don't really know? Maybe you met at a party and talked for just five minutes and friended them (or were friended) after. Or maybe they're your boyfriend's cousin's boyfriend (true story). Do you form new opinions of them after looking at their Facebook page that you just can't drop, even if you can reasonably justify the opinions as false?

Shooting Stars

I was listening to this song while writing this post. It kinda sums up how I've been feeling lately.

I haven't been blogging. I'm really sorry. I've been uber busy. I got back from school, had half a week and then I was off to Alaska for a bit over a week. I've been back for just over half a week but it's just been a blur of laundry and racing. And now we have relatives over because my younger brother is graduating tomorrow.

Yeah, take that in for a second, some of you all have sibs graduating this year. We're old. Crap.

At any rate, Alaska was amazing. I'm going to volunteer at the Humane Society this summer for sure. It'll be awesome. I get to train doggies to be good. XD Seriously though. I do. And I get to take them on walks. Since one of my dogs is epileptic and can't really handle long walks, this will be fun for me. I might also go do this in July. If you're not bogged down with college courses, let me know if you want to do this! You can get college credit and you don't need ANY experience. It's a great opportunity if you don't have anything serious going on this summer. 24 days, rafting and backpacking. In the YUKON. Or other places. Seriously, I'm open for anything in July. I'd do this on my own, but I really really think it would be amazing to go with someone.

On the college front, I haven't decided Ball State or Mizzou yet. It's complicated and involves not just me, but other people. It's a terrible mess that I shouldn't have let my heart get involved with it, but I have and now it's taking over. I need to let my head do the thinking, like it's supposed to.

Things have been polar for me lately. One day is awesome, one day is horrible. Sometimes it just swings based on who is texting me. My parents are beginning to suspect something is wrong. How can I tell them that there is something wrong, but I can't do anything about it right now?

Halfway Gone

This has been a really challenging semester and it is easy to get lost in all that I have lost this semester. A friend. A sport. A team. A career. I feel as though I have lost half of myself.

But that ignores all that I have gained. I am coming into my own. I am not afraid to articulate what I want anymore. I am able to show my grief, to be open about my experiences. I have been broken, but I'm getting back up better than ever.

This coming year won't be easy, but I hope you'll stick with me and continue to observe me grow into who I am. It's the nuances, the details, the quirks that make life interesting. 2010 is not yet halfway done, but it's already shaped me more than any other year. I can only expect great things from the second half.

What to do When...

Your boyfriend tells you he might be bi.

DO: support and encourage him to explore his sexuality.
DON'T: break up with him.

That's what he wants me to do. Too bad I did the last one to encourage the first. Oops? More to come when I don't feel so terribly betrayed.

(morning edit: I've talked to two friends about this, and they both had very different perspectives, but they both made me feel like this was something I could handle and not drown in. You both know who you are and I just want to say I really appreciate your concern, kindness and understanding.)

Trying

I try to keep it under wraps, but I actually have pretty low self-confidence. I'd like to point out (or make the distinction or whatever) that this does not mean I have low self-esteem or otherwise think my worth is in the low-ish range. I just don't have confidence in myself. I used to take my self confidence from racing. That's a pretty empowering sport to compete in, for anyone, not just a girl, though obviously that adds to its effects. When I stopped racing, I picked up photography and was the go-to-girl for the high school newspaper and yearbook. I had people relying on me. I took my confidence from that.

So the problem comes in college. In college, everyone is self-reliant. You don't depend on others to help you or to turn a decent project into something amazing. It's all on you. No one else needs you. The newspaper is cool, but they can get along without you. Someone else will take the photo. And you don't have your "I play [enter uber cool sport here]" to fall back on. It's just you. And, at least for me, I fell apart. I got lost. I didn't have anyone who needed me to do anything for them. I didn't get praise for my work. I didn't have a source of self-confidence. And I don't think I ever learned how to have self-confidence that just generates inside me. Before racing it was ice skating and before ice skating I was just 3 years old so I didn't have that sort of self-actualization need going on. I dabble in ways to find self-confidence. But there lies another problem.

I hop from thing to thing to get self-confidence. Oh, doing poorly in ice skating? Pick up racing. Not doing well in racing? Cut back so it's just a fun thing you do when you're not taking photos for school. Don't have high school anymore? No worries, we have the student newspaper and rugby. Oh, no more time for rugby? No worries, here's the English class you're doing well in. I didn't like journalism so I turned to Japanese. Japanese wasn't going well, so I turned to teaching English. I adjusted my whole plan of study because I didn't have enough self-confidence to pursue something difficult to me. So maybe that's extrapolating a little, but you see the issue here? That actually happened. I let that happen. And yes, there were other factors, but I can't order them. I can't tell you which is more important, which is closer to the truth.

I know this though - I stop trying. If something stops working, I stop trying. If something stops being easy, I don't want to put the effort in to try to make it easier. I don't try hard enough to get internships or summer jobs. I don't try hard enough to be on the front page of the newspaper. I don't try hard enough to be great at rugby. I used to not have to try to get good grades. Then I started getting decent grades and I didn't want to try in school anymore. I don't know how to try and get what I want from life. I'm used to it just kind of falling in my lap. Not being handed to me, exactly, just more me stumbling upon it. And I took self-confidence from those things. And right now, I seem to just be stumbling around, realizing that I can't keep hoping these things will keep falling from the sky. It's a good thing to realize, but a hard thing to try and accept.

Dear Biological Clock,

Please stop ticking frantically. You have plenty of time. Stop being influenced by silly TV shows about dress shopping. I mean it! STOP IT! You forced me to switch to Comedy Central and listen to fart jokes. Yeah, see the pain you're causing me?

Listen. You are not registering at some stupid wedding planning site because it gives you access to two other sites about freaking married life. You're less than a week from 20. JUST 20. You don't need to get married right now. I know all the middle class kids are doing it, but you're not them. You are upper middle class! You graduate college before getting married. No more planning!

So, I (being your rational side) am going to cater to your desires right now. But let's think about this rationally, yes? You're in a committed relationship and it's going pretty well. So, you've got three more years of college, yeah? Then you guys can live together, maybe even before (since he only has one more year)? So that's almost 6 years together overall. Before you even graduate college. And you'll only be newly 23 when you graduate. Give it a couple of years. Mom and Dad didn't get married until 28. And they're better off than a lot of their friends who married younger. You don't want to be in the half that divorces do you? NO! DUH!

Therefore, I politely request that you. Please. Freaking. CUT! IT! OUT!

Sincerely,
The Brain

Headache

I have a headache. It's been bothering me for almost 12 hours. I've stolen medicine for it from my roommates (thanks A and R, even though you'll never know and never read this!) but it hasn't gone away.

I'm pretty sure it's because of a dream I had last night.

You see, it started off I was part of an Indy race car team. Yeah, kinda cool. Except then we turned all spy and stuff. And one of my teammates wanted to kill me so I had to hide in a bathroom in a mall and dye my hair black so they wouldn't recognize me. Yes, it was super cool. I wish I could remember more, but I don't and trying makes my head hurt more.

Anyway, so the last scene before my alarm went off (I was kinda waking up anyway) was my spy friend getting shot in the head in the back of a car. We were in the getaway car, my male friend driving, my female friend telling me to duck. Good thing I ducked, yeah? Not so much. Not only did I see my friend die, but right after that male friend either turns on me or gets killed b/c someone hit me in the back of the head. Cue alarm clock.

So here's the thing. I don't have anything hard on my bed that could hurt me. And I didn't wake up with anything on my head, like a pillow or stuffed animal. I thought maybe I hit my head against the wall, but my pillow was there.

Yeah. The dream was really a lot better than that but you know....head hurts and all. Better post after I get over this headache. I swear I'm not dead guys. Just not totally thrilled right now.

And Moving On...

I feel like this blog could, for a while, turn into a "how I grieve" blog, and I don't want that, so think of this as a moving on post. That's not to say that I won't bring it up again, but it's going to be less obnoxious. Less about my grieving, and more about that of those around me. Mainly my roommates.

At any rate, I was thinking about how easily things can be misconstrued or misunderstood, especially with people you don't really know. Three things happened today and I feel like I just made everyone around me think I was a total...well, witch...just because they took something I said or did to mean something else.

One guy in my English class sent out an email, asking that we print his story instead of him printing them for us because his printing quota was out. A fair request, except my quota is running low as well and his story was 14 pages. Yeah, not going to happen bud. I told him so (the quota, not the other sentence) and gave him three options and asked which he preferred - I could print it out but squish everything together (possibly ruining the form it was in, so it's nice to ask), I could write my comments back to him just on the document and he could read them on his computer, or I could print out my comments on a separate sheet. He was griping in class that he only got two replies to the email he sent out. One suggested he go to the library and use the printing service there. The other was just rude and unhelpful and gave him a whole bunch of different options that he didn't want. The person was just trying to get out of printing the story. He didn't understand why the person even bothered to email him back. I sit two rows over from him and heard everything. It hurt. I was only trying to help, but had to do so under my constraints too.

The second thing happened on the bus. I was sitting sideways, taking up two seats on the earliest bus you can take. It's never crowded, and today wasn't any different. There were plenty of other empty two-seat benches for this person to use, but they must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed because I was glared at and called a seat hog. I only sat sideways because the bus was no where close to full and I needed to put my laptop on my lap and do some work. It's not like they didn't get a seat because of my hoggie-ness.

The third wasn't a comment. It was a look shared between two passing students then a laugh and a slight glare my direction. Maybe I had something on my face...but I hadn't eaten anything yet, so probably not. I don't have any holes in my jeans. Were they too tight, making me have a muffin top? I did a double check. No, they were fine. Is my shirt too low? Is my bra showing? Nope, nothing wrong. I didn't have any more popped zits than usual, and none popping up. What could they have gathered from the way I looked that deserved a glare? It had to be the low shirt. It's the only thing that could be construed as offensive.

I dunno, I'm probably just being overly sensitive (it's not that time though, damn it!). Do you guys have days like that though? Where it seems like communicating with people just isn't something you should do that day? I already experienced it the night before all this stuff happened, but that was none of my doing.

Fyi, next post will be that roommate post I mentioned earlier. I think I've observed enough to write about it objectively, not just...whiney. XD

Ooze

I was searching news about Sri Lanka's parliamentary elections this morning on Google News using Google Chrome on my laptop while checking my Gmail on my Android powered phone.

And I realized it. I don't know how. I don't know when (though I can pinpoint some dates, of course). But it's happened.

I am a Google whore. I have let Google ooze into every aspect of my technological life. I'm even blogging about it on a Google powered blogging site!

I used to pride myself that I was never an Apple whore or a Microsoft whore or a Sony whore, though I've come close at times to each. But now...it's official. Google is trying to take over my life. I believe I complained about how my economics teacher said Google was being a monopoly last semester, if not here then somewhere public online. I still stand by that statement, but would like to adjust my stance. Google doesn't want to dominate one market. It wants to control our lives.

RUN!!! Run away from the ooze! (J, it's not moving slowly, this is a very energetic ooze, it'll get you too if you don't watch out.)

Daze

I go through life in a daze. One day passes, another comes. I'm just going through the motions right now. There are moments, brief, when my brain is fully functioning and aware of what's going on, but right now it seems incomplete.

Is it because roommate-K's gone? I keep having to make the distinction because I know many K's. Another one is gone too, but it's not my concern - brother broke up with his girlfriend K this week.

I slept 10 hours, but it wasn't enough. I feel like I can't pay attention in class, I can't analyize anything...or spell, apparently. It's strange, given the circumstances of her death, that I feel the best when I am around my K. It's like most of the haze is lifted and I can think clearly, I can move on with life and process other things. You can probably tell my writing isn't the same. Were I writing this around K, it probably would be, but since I'm writing it around memories of roommate-K it's really difficult to form a coherent thought.

Teachers all ask what we did over spring break. I'm not sure I want to say. I could just say I went to Salt Lake City and skied with my dad, but then I leave out the "big news" and it seems like a lie. But I don't want to really say "oh, my roommate died, so I had to cancel all my plans and come back to Missouri and drive around a lot and it sucked" because that's just so damn whiney. But it's what I feel. So I just shut up and look sad and no one bothers me.

But I don't want to be sad. I can function in the apartment, that part's not hard. It's like she's still living here, just not here ever. I had to go into her room because A put my tupperware in there, thinking it was K's. So I took some time and made sure nothing else had been put in there that was mine. Was it an excuse to see K's things as she left them? I know you're thinking it, but I don't have an answer either way. I'd say no, because it's not like I went through her things like she stole something from me. I just looked at the stuff on her bed where A said my tupperware was and made sure that there weren't any more of my things. But that would be denying that I wanted to go in there and was relieved to have an excuse and ignoring that I stood in there for 5 minutes just looking at her room.

I'm sorry. I don't really know why I'm writing this. It's not like I'm having issues coping. Haha, yes I am, that's the whole reason I'm writing this. That damn daze. But is it purely because of K? Maybe it's just coming back from break and I need to give it more than a day. Maybe I should try and think of boyfriend-K more, since it seems that helps? Why would it help?

edit: must have just been that class/the morning. got outside, got fresh air, took care of self, now am in political science class and am totally focused. besides this. but just thought i should let you all know. =)

Update

I'm in Utah, skiing with my dad. We flew out yesterday morning and skied the second half of the day at Park City, where the Olympics were held once upon a time. It felt good to get out on the snow again. But I'd been up since 2:30am Utah time. And now it was 7pm. Oh, did I mention I only got 2 hours of sleep the night before? Yeah, whoops. I was tired. I slept through two text messages and a phone call. Usually even the slightest noise from my cell phone wakes me up.

I woke up this morning after sleeping almost 12 hours to a phone call. It was R, calling to tell me our roommate, K, was dead. I'd heard about people's roommates committing suicide and the university letting them get an automatic pass for the semester. I wondered if they extended that to everyone, or if you had to live in the dorms to get that applied to you. The apartments where I live are half university, I just live in the non-university half. That was my first thought. The second was speculation about how she died, which was enforced as R went on, and confirmed later when I learned the exact details of her death.

So I've been in a bit of shock. I've cried a little bit. I don't think I ever hit the denial really. I wondered if it might have been R playing a cruel joke - that was one of those early thoughts - but she wouldn't do that. I've been angry at the circumstances surrounding the death. Mainly, I just wonder why. I can't bargain, but that's okay, the Kubler-Ross model says you only need to go through two. Of the five, that leaves depression and acceptance. I think I'll be depressed when I return to the apartment - we shared a side, after all, and it'll be weird not smelling her cooking all the time. Acceptance will come after that. But I think I'm pretty okay, considering, you know? My dad was out of the room when I got the call, doing business stuff, so I called him and asked him to come back to the room, which he did. We were a little late getting to the ski resort today, but not so much that we didn't have time to hit all the runs. Called my mom, who was at the airport on her way to her sorority sister's memorial (Dad's aunt died recently too, so there's the three, in case you follow that rule).

It's weird. So many thoughts kind of run through my head, like what are we going to do about her room at the apartment, but they just flow right out. When I mentioned earlier in the post that we shared a side I thought that I'd have to get a shower curtain since we one we have was her's. I don't want to deal with these thoughts right now, but they're thoughts that seem harmless to say, they have no bad consequence, and it's hard to keep them in. But I don't want to spoil this vacation for my dad - he hasn't been skiing for 3 years, and he loves skiing. He asked if I wanted to go home, or go to the nearest airport to where she lives. How could I do that to him? On one hand, I'd like to go be around friends who knew her and celebrate her life, but on the other, I think I would be an invader - I only met her at the beginning of the school year and we only developed a friendship this semester. I'll go to the funeral or memorial, certainly, once arrangements have been made. I have a couple of people keeping me in the loop.

Skiing's been great, actually. The place where we skied today doesn't allow snowboarders, which I didn't think I'd enjoy, but I did. Instead of all these people falling all over the place, it was mainly just little kids. And you can easily avoid them b/c they're small! (I've been making mad jokes all day, forgive me, I think it's a coping thing.) We're supposed to get snow tomorrow. Estimates range from 6 inches to a foot. The storm is just hovering over the city, the mountains are probably getting snow by now. You can see them from the window of the hotel. It's funny - we stayed at this hotel when we moved out to IN from CA. Dad just booked it and when we pulled off the highway and looked around it was like....wait a second...I remember that KFC.

True story - went to a Walmart with a parking garage. Check Facebook for pics later on in the week if you don't believe it. I'll have the typical pose at the top of the mountain and take a picture ones too.

Anger

Rargh. I had a pissy post about why relationships, no matter what kind, suck and the various ways in which they suck but then I realized that I'm just grumpy because I'm a teenage girl who doesn't know what she wants. Take that in whatever way you please. I'm not spilling all the beans here.

What I will talk about here is how I think I spend most of my time being mad about something. K thinks I have anger management issues b/c I let things build and then take my anger out on whatever drop causes the bottle to overflow. Which is usually him. Which only makes me wonder why I always take my anger out on him. Which only makes me madder at myself and, in turn, the world. I just love how I work, don't you?

At any rate, I think my anger of late has been caused by my uncertainty and the fact everything around me keeps changing. Those plans I was making for KC? Shot to hell. Those grand ideas about Ball State? Uncertain, no thanks to anyone around me b/c I was certain at one point, I remember. There's so much going on in school and now, all of a sudden, I have all these people from all my schooling wanting to keep in contact with me and part of me just wants to tell them to eff off, I've moved on. But I honestly haven't moved on, I'd still love to be friends, they just picked a bad time to try and be friends again.

I like structure, I like knowing, I like plans. My room may be messy, but I know where everything is, and it won't take me but a second to find what I need. I like having plans for the future. I like those plans to be stable and unchanging once made. I like sticking to those plans. Is it really too much to ask? I'm more or less a piece of paper. Write down what you want. But once someone gets an eraser out I flip out. I'm not dynamic, I'm not flexible. I planned my college career because a friend was doing an assignment where she had to. I didn't have to, I saw it, thought it was a great idea, and did so. I plan trips that I'll never take. It's just what I do. It's so I know what to do if X-situation arises.

And now I have many X-situations but here's the catch - I don't have a plan for a single one of them! Plus I have all these additional stresses, like current school work and family issues...

If this were two weeks ago, or two weeks from now, I could perhaps understand my anger and frustration at the world, but there is no reason for me to be so upset about everything right now and yet, here I am.

Skiing

I started skiing when I was 3 years old. That could be true. I'm not sure when I started skiing exactly. I just remember that Dad always said he pulled me out of the ski school at Squaw to teach me to ski because apparently they weren't doing it right.

So it began. My dad always loved skiing, my mom not so much. But she'd take us to Alpine Meadows or, later, Sugar Bowl, stick us in all day lessons and spend her day reading in the lodge. My dad would do the same thing except he would actually ski. Then he started to get old and I started to get good. Now we ski together. I say I'm not as good as he is and that might be true. But give us a day on the slopes and I'll still be ready to go at the end of the day, whereas he might quit around 2 or 3pm.

I think I was 10 or 11 when a Sugar Bowl instructor asked if I would like to be on their racing team. I was so excited, being on a ski team was so special, you couldn't just apply and be on it, you had to be selected. Too bad Dad decided it would be too difficult for me to spend just weekends in Tahoe. And how would I race, he argued. They tell me now that it was just that by the time we looked into it, all the spots were full, but I was old enough to remember the real details.

I haven't had a chance to ski much since moving, even though I live somewhere that gets snow. It's b/c my state is flat. Historically speaking, a glacier melted on it and flattened everything and made the soil great for growing corn. And soy now, apparently. Highest point is just above 1000 feet. Woo! It's not totally true that I haven't skied since we moved. I skied my first college winter break when K and I went to CA. I can't remember if we stayed 3 or 4 days. I think it was just 3. Sugar Bowl the first day, North Star the second, Squaw (after a failed Heavenly attempt) the third.

So I'm turning to CO for my skiing needs. Perfect, actually, because it's accessible for a weekend trip from my college. Seriously, I love that I-70 is freaking right there. I've thought about going a few times, but only when I get angry. It's what I do. I get angry and plan these crazy trips. I planned to move back to CA and live with my grandparents. I could have made it almost all the way there too without my parents finding out. That's how much detail I go into. So I've planned it all out, from where I'd stay depending on how much cash I have to where I'd ski depending on the conditions and time of year.

My dad and I are hopefully taking a trip during my spring break to ski. He's thinking Utah. I'm thinking that I might end up being the only one skiing because he might not make it more than two days in a row. It might be fun though. I'll find some locals and try to keep up with them. That's something I've always wanted to do actually, just follow some locals around for a few hours, seeing if I can keep up with the people that ski 100+ days a year.

I'm not sure if I can really express how much I love skiing. It's just always been this escape for me. The idea of just going somewhere and it's just you and the slopes and you can just forget about everything else always comforts me. Skiing is always different. You can hit the same run over and over and because people have gone while you were on the lift getting to the run again it's different. It never gets old.

Summer

Last summer was a total failure for me, and this summer is shaping up to be much the same. I don't think I'm going to Japan. It's mostly my fault, but I still hold that the professor did not let me know he was actually running the program this semester like I asked until less than a week before the application deadline. And that's really not long enough to get a letter of recommendation. Especially from a Japanese professor b/c you have to be all formal about it.

Anyway, so that's dashed. Now I've been thinking of other ways to spend my time. I was talking about this with K and that's when he brought it up.

"Come stay in KC with me this summer." It was like 2am and we were laying in front of the TV in my family room, watching the Food Network. "Hm?" "I don't have to live in the dorms they assign me to. I could live in an apartment. They give me a 500 dollar a month stipend." "Oh." "So you could work in KC and live in an apartment with me." I consider this, and clearly still am otherwise this wouldn't be a post. It's not like the work would be any different in Indy or KC. I'd get a job at a retail store or maybe even a doggie hotel or something similar where I'm working with animals. I'd love to do something to do with teaching, but since I haven't had any classroom time or even taken a teaching course I doubt I'd be allowed to do much more than observe. And it certainly wouldn't be paid.

"We're too young to live together, even if it's just for a summer," I finally say. "Well, I'm not. And you're old for your age." I don't really know how to respond to this. It's true. He'd be 22 and I'd be 20. It's not like others my age don't spend the summers with their boyfriends. It's just not something I pictured in my life until now and I'm really struggling with it. It's a good option. I just can't get my mind to accept that as an option.

So there's that. It's an option. It'd be nice. It'd be cheaper to live at home and I could help out a couple of racing families and maybe even take photos at races and make some money from that on top of working at some job. I'd be around my family a lot, which I both like and dislike. It's more comfortable and safe.

Or I could just go somewhere else completely. I keep seeing the Disney internship fliers and even though I know you're basically Disney's bitch, being in Florida or Anaheim doesn't sound so bad. I could go to Africa and teach English or maybe just work, building infrastructure in rural areas. I'm also tempted to work for a cruise line, but from what I hear you have to devote 9 months to that and there's no way in hell I'm doing that. On top of all that, there's a 6 week program in Greece run by the English department. Kind of a bummer that the deadline has already passed, but I bet if I really expressed interest my teacher could get me in.

So I dunno. What do you guys think? Any other options just off the top of your head? It's March so most internship deadlines have passed, and I'm not looking for that anyway. But...it's plenty of time to plan for a job over the summer. And that's what I'm trying to do.

Creative Writing

I might have mentioned that I'm taking a creative writing class. If I haven't, I've surely meant to and I've certainly enjoyed it.

Anyway, I was supposed to bring copies of my story for people to read on Friday so we could workshop it on Monday (today). The professor canceled class on Wednesday so the people whose stories we had prepared for Wednesday got pushed back to Friday. I emailed the teacher asking if the schedule would be pushed back a class, meaning I would distribute on Monday for workshopping on Wednesday. She said yes. Then no one distributed their stories on Friday and she asked that I send my story out via email by midday Saturday.

I already made plans to come home over the weekend since I had a hellish week - 3 tests, a project, Japanese worksheets (very unusual to be assigned and very time consuming), and a few other small assignments in addition to the normal onslaught of reading. So when the teacher pushed back my due date, working on the short story was pushed back as well. Now I had to drive six hours home which blew my Friday night. Saturday was busy. I sat just outside of the family room where my brother, mom and boyfriend sat watching TV (yeah, he pretty much spent the weekend at my house). I was glued to my laptop, cranking out page after page. Got it done much later than I would have liked, but that's ok. The ending was terrible too. It was so abrupt but I really didn't want to go over 10 pages. I thought there were so many issues with it. Even now, I look at some passages and I hate that I wrote them.

My teacher didn't seem to mind though. She called it very impressive. Said it should be a longer story, something like 30-60 pages. Wants me to only work on this for the rest of the semester. Says I have the kernel of something really good. She'd like it if I had a complete story by the end of the semester to send out to literary journals.

Uh. What?

Yay Democracy!

It's been a while since I had to hold my tongue in Comparative Politics. I usually don't mind speaking up, but right now I really really really am struggling to not jump out of my seat yelling about the failures of the US promoting democracy.

She's talking about terms like universalist and preconditionalist and organic vs. practice and I just keep having to show my feelings by emphatic head nods or shakes with my eyes wide. She keeps looking at me expectantly, but I won't indulge her. I can't. I don't feel like debating right now. There's a few people I'm sure did either LD or Parli just because of how they think. But I'm a Policy. This is my area of expertise.

I actually finally understand the arguments we were making freshman year about spreading democracy. It's quite fun to get the definitions of terms you've used in political arguments for 4 years. This class makes me want to get a political science minor. Almost. Maybe just comparative governments. Maybe just the different type of democracies. Or just a class about how the US influences other countries.

I digress. A few people in our class are universalists, who basically think that democracy is good for everyone and every state/nation/country is capable of democracy. They, generally, want to spread democracy to all countries, even if it takes force to do so. Perhaps you see where this is going. Yes, both Bush presidents were universalists. Latter even more so than the former. You can just imagine me squirming in my seat, dying to jump up and rant about the shortcomings and how these policies have ruined country after country and the US just needs to keep its big fat nose out of other country's governments.

Rawr. She's looking at me again. I think she wants me to say something. I can't! I can't think of a nice way to go about this. I will just shout at the universalists and become enraged and rant about how there have been no successful examples of the US instilling democracy in a country. The only areas that it's worked are the countries that want into the EU and here's the catcher! Those aren't democracies in the way we think of democracies! It's an autocracy with low civil liberties and low political rights! Meaning they don't vote much and/or their vote doesn't really make a difference and they don't have many social freedoms. And hey, guess what! Some areas just aren't suited for democracy because of their religious history (despite that the religion might not be as dominate now) or the way their culture is. Like a ton of countries in Africa where a bunch of tribes were just grouped together and told to play nice. Yeah. Democracy is just going to magically work there.

Is that what she wants me to say? She's said most of it, minus the US failure part, and she's said it politer than I. I just sit here wide-eyed, biting my lip because I can't politely talk during the most interesting lecture I've had this semester.

Failure

There are some days when you look at the people around you and you think you haven't done much with your life. I'm having one of those days.

It's because of my journalism lab. We interviewed our partners as practice for the camera interview we'll be conducting. My partner didn't want to fill me in on anything so my little speech in front of the class wasn't so great. Her's was a hit, but only because I fed her the story I knew people would want to hear - racing.

I stood up there and the class asked me questions, turning me into a super star for a minute. But I couldn't help thinking how can I stand up here and allow them to think I'm so amazingly cool when BC and JL have accomplished so much more than me?

I live one town over from BC's family and they used to live in CA not too far from us. Our families are friends, not terribly close, but we'll say hi and stop and talk if we see each other. BC got a Nationwide ride back in '08, but the team got rid of that car so now he's just back in sprint cars and midgets. He's won a handful of national races and all this crazy stuff. He's completely independent and owns an apartment in North Carolina. He's only a year older than me.

JL lived on the East coast so we never raced against each other, but one time we went out to the Eastern Grands and he raced against my brother - before I was really into racing. He moved up through the ranks so quickly. Win one championship, move on to the next level of racing. He now races in Nascar. Had to wait to get into Nationwide because he wasn't 18 when he was signed to a team. Last year he took over the Home Depot sponsorship and the No. 20 car as well. He won a race too. He is my age, just a few weeks younger, literally.

Moving into another of my favorite sports, we have SC, captain of the Penguins at 20. He was in the Stanley Cup finals, leading his team through an extremely tough playoff season, at 20 years old. They lost that year, came back to win the next. He's 22 now and it just stuns me what he has accomplished at such a young age. He entered the NHL when he was 18! Just skipped the college playing part. Skipped being in the development teams. Oh, be the highest scorer on the team? Sure, no problem. Playoff season? Yeah, I can get you there. Oh, want a rematch against Detroit for the cup? Yeah, let's win it.

It just makes me look at my life and wonder where I could be. An Olympic ice skater, about to wrap up the end of her career? The classier version of DP? (Congrats on your 6th place Arca finish. Like that's anything to brag about, but it's all you hear about racing.) Even though I won awards for my photos in high school, I haven't done anything in college. I feel like I just should be more accomplished and I'm not. I feel like a failure. I feel like I didn't capitalize on the options that were out there for me. And now I'm just stuck in this ho-hum life, looking at what other have, wishing I had it too.

Anyone else get like this sometimes?

Crush

I've been struggling with this post for a long time, but I'm just going to write it and get it out there and whoever reacts to it can react to it. For about the past year I've had a crush on someone, even though I'm in a relationship. I'm told this is natural, but I still feel bad about it. And I don't think telling K would make me feel any better, because I am sure he does not have a crush of his own. Maybe it's my certainty that he does not experience the same problem that makes me feel so guilty about it.

I had forgotten about my crush until A's party a couple of weekends ago. Well, I hadn't forgotten about the person, certainly, since we're pretty good friends, but I forgot about the crush aspect. Anyway, A and I were playing Twilight Princess the Friday before her party, just having a good time like we did last year when everyone would come over and play video games, when there's a knock at the door. A opens it and it's him. And it just wasn't something I was prepared for. We hung out before school started and a couple of times last semester, but...I don't know. Something brought first semester rushing back. Probably that I was already thinking about how it was back then.

Back then would refer to when we always hung out in our room and played video games together, I guess. He, L and I shared A's twin bed one night when seven people decided to sleep in our room. L ended up sleeping with her head around my stomach. Since I was on my side this created an awkward arm; I could place it behind my back, on L's face or on his chest. I asked permission, quietly explaining why. He said sure so I placed my arm in about the most neutral spot I could think of - dead middle of his torso. He moved it up to his shoulder. I took my arm back after 5 minutes and found that L had shifted so I could put my arm there without suffocating her.

K and I broke up for a short period of time second semester. It happened to be on a night when my crush came over to campus (he lived in an apartment). It was his first time meeting some of the guys on the floor. Two days later he came over again and teased me because I left him alone with people he hardly knew. I apologized and explained how the rest of my night went. He looked stunned and gave me a hug, something kind of out of character for him. A mentioned how I went up to her room (she lived 4 floors up) to watch a movie with her. He said I should have gone to him, since he was just down the hall on my floor, and we could have walked around campus.

Am I looking into this too much? I think my feelings are returned, but it could just be the situations. I really hope it's just the situations because I'm not sure I can deal with the implications.

You know what I did earlier the day of A's party? We went out to dinner b/c everyone else ditched and I didn't feel like cooking. We were in his car on the way to dinner. He was poking fun at me and I was countering. Then there was a silence and we were just listening to the music. That's when I told him I missed him. And he goes, really? He looks over at me and I look at him and I'm like, yeah, I really do. And just something in the way he looked at me made me sure he missed me too.

I'm so stupid! It's so stupid! I shouldn't like someone else when I'm in a relationship. But everyone I've talked to says it's okay. It's not okay! Just because I would never act upon my feelings for this person does not mean it is okay to have feelings for him in the first place! Nothing happened, nothing will ever happen, so why do I feel so damn guilty? I haven't done anything wrong. It's just a crush. I'll get over it. But it's been a year, and I thought I had gotten over it. I mean, we hung out a couple of times last semester and once we spent half the day together during the summer and I was fine, we were fine, it was fine. These feelings all of a sudden just came rushing back. I wish there were a way to just make it go away, for me to just forget it. But I can't, can I? There's a reason I like this person. There's a reason why we get along so well, why I'm always happy around him.

So what do I do about this crush?

"Come home. The house is on fire."

Those are the first lines of an article in Skiing Magazine about a skier's house catching on fire. The author (and the author's wife) had time to go in and get things because the firefighters brought the fire under control. She got her passport and grandmother's jewelry. He got his passport, hard drive and ski boots.

I had a very lengthy post here speculating about what I would save and what would happen if the fire was this way or that way or if it was at my parent's house or at my apartment, if I was there when it started, if I was out. It's all very interesting, but it's something interesting to have a conversation with someone about, not so much when you're just reading it. So if you have an hour to kill and like hypothetical situations, let's hash this out together. It'll be fun. =)

If not, it's fine, here's the condensed version. We'd all save similar things if we faced an ideal situation (meaning family/housemates and pets are safe). Computer (/laptop/other similar item), school related items (textbooks), important documents (SS card, passport, birth certificate, etc), major sentimental items (heirlooms), wallet/purse/car keys, change of clothes, hobby related items (like that guy's ski boots, or my camera, or J's/N's art supplies). Chances are, we won't have time to save all that. Probably not even half that. So get a fireproof safe and put your important documents that you don't use regularly and your heirlooms in there and maybe your extra set of car keys.

No seriously, I had a really really long post about all that. Even a paragraph about the fireproof safe.

Heads up, I have two posts in the works. One about A's b-day party. No, two about that. Another about skiing. Just b/c I love it so much. Was going to add the skiing to this one, but I'll save it for later. Or maybe just later today. XD

Just for Men!

Centrum commercials need to be banned from the airwaves. Their "Just for Men" campaign is driving me crazy. Duct tape is just for men. Razors are just for men. Wrenches are just for men. Recliners are just for men.

Totally.

I swear, if they don't get enough backlash and go off television soon I am going to take action. There are so many other things they could use that are made just for men. Like jock straps!

Yeesh.

Sweatshirt

I have a lot of hoodies. And now, more recently, I've been acquiring a lot of jackets. But there is one sweatshirt that I will never part with, and I just realized why.

It's been really cold lately so I've just been wearing long sleeves and my thick jacket to get me through the day. It keeps me warm as I rush from class to class and since I wear long sleeves, I'm fine in our 65 degree apartment. I haven't worn a sweatshirt since I was at home, and usually that's a zip up. Today I wore a t-shirt under my jacket. I got cold when I came home so I put on a sweatshirt. An actual sweatshirt. I didn't really care which one, I just wanted something to keep me warm.

The Tulsa Shootout one was the closest.

It's just a small grey, men's sweatshirt with the Tulsa Shootout logo across the chest and down the right arm in orange. Goes with anything so long as you're going casual. It fits me exactly how I would want a sweatshirt to fit me, perhaps from years of wear, pulling the sleeves this way, pushing the pocket that way. At any rate, it feels just amazing. And, despite it being a men's sweatshirt, I think I look wonderful in it. I feel like me.

It's strange to think that simply a piece of clothing can make me feel this good, but it really does. I guess I'm just curious to know if anyone else feels the same. Do you have one piece of clothing that just makes you feel amazing? I was surprised to find mine, but I'm really quite satisfied with it now that I know.

Those People...

We all have them. It's a new semester. You have new classes with new people. And in every class, there's that one person you don't know, but you're interested in them. Whether they have cool shoes or brightly colored hair, or act like they're from a certain part of the country, or remind you of someone you once knew, or just someone really nice. You want to get to know them. Sometimes they don't reveal themselves right away, and usually by the end of the semester you're just down to one. I think I already have my one.

Some semesters you never get to know more than their name. You don't sit by them, you don't get to know them, you don't find out if they're who you imagine they are. And it kinda gets stalker-y, you know? As the semester goes on and you still don't know this person. You become slightly obsessed. Who is this person? What about them is so intriguing? Why can't I just walk up and say, "I find you fascinating. Tell me about yourself"? I'll tell you why you can't do that. It's not socially acceptable. It's considered being socially inept.

I wonder if these people know they are those people. If they know people want to know more about them, if they relish the thought of being admired. I don't think anyone ever wants to get to know me better. I'm not one of those people.

Anyway, I've only ever really gotten to know one of my "people," but this semester I'm going to meet another one. Well, ok, here's the breakdown. First semester, failed. I don't even know her name anymore. Second semester, succeeded. I got to know the guy, and we're ok friends. Third semester, kind of succeeded. I know his name, I got to know what intrigued me in the first place, I'm satisfied. This semester I hope to succeed again. I already have picked out my person and she seems very eager to get to know me too. We've talked twice already. Once about her shoes (she had wonderful gray boots on, and we all know my fruitless search for gray boots), the next about our similar backpacks and her matching jacket. She's not overly friendly and speaks up in class when she has something good to say, but not enough to be obnoxious. She's nice and she also has other friends in the class, so the fact she talks to me is kind of interesting. She doesn't sit with the friends though.

I dunno, I only started doing this in college so maybe it's just me and maybe I'm just a creeper. But...I have a feeling I'm not the only one who does stuff like this. It's just my strange way of meeting people, I guess. Yeah. What do you think? Is this weird, or no weirder than usual?

Crowded Busses

I don't mind taking the bus to campus. It's convenient and usually fairly quick. It's cheaper than a parking pass too. And reliable.

But there are those times when, for some strange reason, everyone and their mom decides it is time to take the bus. I don't know how it happens because the busses are never that crowded heading back to the apartments, and we have a direct bus so it's not like they all go elsewhere. It's never the same time either. Some days it's the 8:40am bus. Other's the 7:40am. Other times it's the 9:10am.

Today it was the 9:10am. It's strange because usually the 10 after busses aren't that full. The 10 after busses get to campus at 20 after, 10 minutes before the 30 after classes start, which there aren't that many of, especially at 9:30am. The busses can fit about 70 really tight. Usually the bus has about 50. Today we fit 78.

I'm always one of the last people to get on, leaving my apartment at 9:07 (it's less than a minute walk to the bus stop). Today when I arrived, the bus was already full. The driver had stopped letting people on. About 10 of us stood out there, waiting to hear that another bus was coming for us shortly. Then 5 more showed up. And that's when she told us to all climb on. I stepped back and let most people on before me. I ended up getting squished between a tall guy in a puffy black jacket who does not want to move budge and a girl in a black peacoat with a large rump who keeps shifting around.

I'm sure you can imagine, I got to know them both very well.

The middle of the aisle opened up so I moved myself out there as best I could. My right foot and arm remained where they were. My arm stayed there by choice. I liked my holding. The girl ahead of me didn't. Or she thought I was trying to be her boyfriend. I really felt like I was wrapping my arm around her. But that's nothing compared to my poor foot's situation. See I tried to move my foot out of there. But it was caught in the trap. Shift girl had shifted her foot right into mine and kept pushing it back until I hit no-budge guy and, obviously, he didn't budge. I turned my foot to take up less room and managed to be pinned at the narrowest part of the shoe. I was stuck.

I tried to rescue my foot. I couldn't. I tried nudging Shifty and No-Budge. No luck. I wiggled. A lot. And I just couldn't get my foot! Do you know how much that sucks? My foot was alllll the way over there and the rest of my body somewhere else. It was like being pulled by my arm and my leg. And it didn't end until we got off the bus.

Next time I'm forcing the lady to call the other bus. I'd like to keep all my body parts, thank you.

Things to come...

I had a post here that bitched about my younger brother getting treated less strictly than I did at his age. I took it down. The topic is old and cliche and I could do a far better job of creatively talking about this subject when I have had a decent amount of sleep and am not writing immediately after an offense has occurred.

So prepare for that. Know that I am mad and that I dread coming home/spending time with my family because I wonder what injustice (just wrote unjustice and seriously wondered why it was wrong, that's how tired I am) I will be faced with this time. My parents think they make up for it by giving me pretty much no restrictions anymore, but it just makes me feel like they don't care. [insert slightly sarcastic "T_T"] What a sad family life I lead now. XD

I would also like to ask what you guys would like to hear about. Since coming to the Chili Bowl (the biggest midget (race cars, people, gosh!) event of the winter, possibly the year) and seeing many old quarter midget friends I am tempted to reminisce so if there is anything you would like to know about my past, I would love diving into that. Really. Anything. It's not that I'm out of ideas - I have double the posts in my drafts than I have published - it's just that I don't know what people want to hear. So throw some ideas out, let me know you're still reading (even if only mildly interested XP). I can say that I think I'll make a post about my quarter midget days (but if you have an angle, let me know please). I'm going to finish up, polish and publish a post about why I don't drink and another post about...well....something. It'sreallyacoolpostbutI'mscaredtotalkaboutitbecauseofhowsomepeoplemightreact.

Ok, that's all! Night!

RAWRGH

I'm not sure what I want to do anymore and it's really annoying. I keep putting off applying for Ball State because I'm not sure I can get what I want from them in just 3 years. Stupid advisors are full of crap. Not able to tell me more information my butt. You got it, you just don't want to share it with someone who might not go there.

In fact, NO ONE, not even advisors at Mizzou, is giving me any decent information so I can't choose classes for next semester and it's really really really stressing me out. I have 12 credit hours just full of crap. I'm taking Japanese language and that's all that matters in my course load. The rest are all classes that would be good if I stayed at Mizzou, but I'm not. So why am I enrolled in those classes? I should just take a bunch of random classes that make me happy. Like a freaking photo class. But can't get into those until you take intro art classes. Like drawing. B/c I need to be good at that to take decent photos. Of course! That makes perfect sense!

I need to apply. Really. It's past their priority deadline according to the website but I know I read somewhere that for transfer students it wasn't until February if you wanted to transfer in the fall. Contradictions everywhere I tell you.

I'm just in a bad mood. It's the weather I tell you. Single digits just don't agree with me.