Where we you?
I was in the bathtub, in Dad's first apartment after the divorce. I was annoyed when Dad yelled through the door that he was turning on my tv because something had happened on the news. I got out, and then walked into my bedroom and stared. The tv was on top of my dresser, the blond one I'd had since I was a kid. It was set to images of the two large buildings in New York. One of them had flames shooting out the side. And all of a sudden, as I was watching, something flew into the screen and hit the other building. More flames, falling debris.
And then it hit them. Something bigger was happening. Not an accident, a plan.
September 11th wasn't all bad. Two very important people were born that day. Emma and John are six today. Little babies who didn't know what was happening to the rest of the world were in their own fight for survival. They'll hear about it, and they'll understand, eventually. They'll see that somehow they emerged from that day as a sign of hope for the people who knew them, or who knew of them. Even though they are separate from the events that took place, they will always be associated with that day. It's the circle of life: death and then birth. Or rather, birth, and then death. But it's not quite that simple. It's hope, and pain, and beauty, and the fight for something as important as life.
So Happy Tuesday. May you see beauty somewhere in the world today.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Strep. Want some? It's going around.
Fall is coming. And so is Emily. She'll be here on Friday! I can't even wait.
And then, of course, I only have a week after that until Mumu, Fruitypants, Aunt Sally and Grandma Mary get here.
And then after that, fall break and Oregon and Danny.
It's going to be a great September and beginning of October.
I talked to Mike. He's excited to come. Wants to do something exciting. I told him there was nothing he could do in Chicago that would be exciting. We'll see.
Ah, the Wellness Center.
I will never appreciate what they do for all of the students of Loyola. My roommate, bearing swollen lymph nodes in her neck, a sore throat that looked nasty, even from my vantage point (which didn't include the usual light and popsicle stick check), and a voice that would make a volverine purr with pain, went off to the Wellness Center only to be told that she was fine.
It's strep.
I am currently debating even going back and asking for a strep test. I went last Thursday with a sore throat, and a cough that included both blood and green stuff, only to be told it was merely a cold and my lungs sounded clear. No strep test.
I'll make an appoinment tomorrow afternoon.
Someone should say something to them about how inadequate they are. How hard is it, really? I used Steve last year as my "doctor," since he is pre-med and probably knows more than they do. In fact, I always feel like he'll at least offer you an answer instead of the usual cough drop and absolutely nothing you get there.
And don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those crazed college students you hear about faking illness for drugs. I don't think that any ailment can be solved with a prescription. I prefer not to put artificial medicines into my body, but when it's strep, or something like that, I'm all about proper treatment. Especially because it's such a contagious illness and I live in such close quarters with people.
Ah, such is life.
I need to get a doctor out here.
I love Danny. He stayed in last night so we could talk on the phone, and it's wonderful. He wakes me up each morning (just like he used to do in the summer) with a cute text message that completely energizes my morning.
Steve and I might look into yoga.
I've been getting very domestic lately. You should have seen the homemade pizza I made. I kneaded the dough, let it rise, formed it and voila! Pizza crust. Then sauce, cheese, veggies, meat. Bake. Food. Everyone liked it.
I do dishes. I clean the house. I whipped out my "Mom-Voice" on my roommate's boyfriend completely accidentally. He was like, "Katie, you sound like my mom." Ah. Wow.
I just realized that I don't really know what I want to do with my life except write. And suddenly, everything else is less appealing than usual. So I think I will just become a writer and then not worry about having an actual career. Because the 9 to 5 won't make me happy. Did it work for any of you? I don't want to wake up one day and realize that I never did anything I wanted to because I was worried about attaining status or making money (but then again, I'll probably wish I had). So we'll see.
I did write a sweet lead for a story in one of my Journalism classes. It had to be no more than 25 words, and while the rest of the class labored over it for quite some time, I had 21 words in less than 30 seconds. So, see, I'm not bad at this.
And then, of course, I only have a week after that until Mumu, Fruitypants, Aunt Sally and Grandma Mary get here.
And then after that, fall break and Oregon and Danny.
It's going to be a great September and beginning of October.
I talked to Mike. He's excited to come. Wants to do something exciting. I told him there was nothing he could do in Chicago that would be exciting. We'll see.
Ah, the Wellness Center.
I will never appreciate what they do for all of the students of Loyola. My roommate, bearing swollen lymph nodes in her neck, a sore throat that looked nasty, even from my vantage point (which didn't include the usual light and popsicle stick check), and a voice that would make a volverine purr with pain, went off to the Wellness Center only to be told that she was fine.
It's strep.
I am currently debating even going back and asking for a strep test. I went last Thursday with a sore throat, and a cough that included both blood and green stuff, only to be told it was merely a cold and my lungs sounded clear. No strep test.
I'll make an appoinment tomorrow afternoon.
Someone should say something to them about how inadequate they are. How hard is it, really? I used Steve last year as my "doctor," since he is pre-med and probably knows more than they do. In fact, I always feel like he'll at least offer you an answer instead of the usual cough drop and absolutely nothing you get there.
And don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those crazed college students you hear about faking illness for drugs. I don't think that any ailment can be solved with a prescription. I prefer not to put artificial medicines into my body, but when it's strep, or something like that, I'm all about proper treatment. Especially because it's such a contagious illness and I live in such close quarters with people.
Ah, such is life.
I need to get a doctor out here.
I love Danny. He stayed in last night so we could talk on the phone, and it's wonderful. He wakes me up each morning (just like he used to do in the summer) with a cute text message that completely energizes my morning.
Steve and I might look into yoga.
I've been getting very domestic lately. You should have seen the homemade pizza I made. I kneaded the dough, let it rise, formed it and voila! Pizza crust. Then sauce, cheese, veggies, meat. Bake. Food. Everyone liked it.
I do dishes. I clean the house. I whipped out my "Mom-Voice" on my roommate's boyfriend completely accidentally. He was like, "Katie, you sound like my mom." Ah. Wow.
I just realized that I don't really know what I want to do with my life except write. And suddenly, everything else is less appealing than usual. So I think I will just become a writer and then not worry about having an actual career. Because the 9 to 5 won't make me happy. Did it work for any of you? I don't want to wake up one day and realize that I never did anything I wanted to because I was worried about attaining status or making money (but then again, I'll probably wish I had). So we'll see.
I did write a sweet lead for a story in one of my Journalism classes. It had to be no more than 25 words, and while the rest of the class labored over it for quite some time, I had 21 words in less than 30 seconds. So, see, I'm not bad at this.
Sunday, September 09, 2007
Countdown begins....
26 days until fall break! Oregon, here I come.
Yeah, we're counting, we know. It's lame. But how many times in my life will I be able to say that I've flown cross country for love?
Drama exploded here this weekend, but on the whole it was laid back.
Nice discussions with both Katie and Danny. Katie's sort of significant other, Ben, asked her when she was going to grow out of our friendship. Wow. Katie has been my other since freshman year of high school. We did the long distance relationship through freshman year, and got even closer, if that's possible, this summer. I wouldn't be able to survive if I didn't know that she will always be there for me. My wall is covered in pictures of Katie, Colorado, and Danny. But mostly Katie. And Colorado. Don't ever underestimate between best friends. Especially not the Katies.
Emily from Denver came this weekend, bringing her roommate unexpectedly, which caused disastrous results. And I am $17 poorer as a result of her inability to navigate city streets and find a parking spot.
However, things have continued. I got into a fight defending gay rights with someone's roommate, which ended in me walking out after I asked him to please not use the word "hate." He refused. I don't stand for that. As a woman, I know what it's like to be ogled and objectified, so when he told me he had that experience ONCE in his life and, as a result, "hates gays," I fought back. It was ridiculous. Some people are so ignorant and disrespectful.
Ah, well, getting a little chillier here.
Yeah, we're counting, we know. It's lame. But how many times in my life will I be able to say that I've flown cross country for love?
Drama exploded here this weekend, but on the whole it was laid back.
Nice discussions with both Katie and Danny. Katie's sort of significant other, Ben, asked her when she was going to grow out of our friendship. Wow. Katie has been my other since freshman year of high school. We did the long distance relationship through freshman year, and got even closer, if that's possible, this summer. I wouldn't be able to survive if I didn't know that she will always be there for me. My wall is covered in pictures of Katie, Colorado, and Danny. But mostly Katie. And Colorado. Don't ever underestimate between best friends. Especially not the Katies.
Emily from Denver came this weekend, bringing her roommate unexpectedly, which caused disastrous results. And I am $17 poorer as a result of her inability to navigate city streets and find a parking spot.
However, things have continued. I got into a fight defending gay rights with someone's roommate, which ended in me walking out after I asked him to please not use the word "hate." He refused. I don't stand for that. As a woman, I know what it's like to be ogled and objectified, so when he told me he had that experience ONCE in his life and, as a result, "hates gays," I fought back. It was ridiculous. Some people are so ignorant and disrespectful.
Ah, well, getting a little chillier here.
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