Hemingway

Reading up on Hemingway today.  I always associate him with a certain type of misogyny: one that's big on display but really has nothing substantial to support itself. 
But I learned some interesting facts from this article, including:
-George Orwell actually fought in Spain, until Hemingway. 
-Hemingway's dispatches were mostly fictional. 
-He wrote a play years later where he clearly puts himself in the place of a hunky spy pretending to be a war correspondent. 
As to the mystery of why Hemingway killed himself: he collapsed under his own ego.  I see this so often with men who paint themselves as larger than life, but there's nothing about them that his large.  All there is just facade, there's nothing even so wonderful behind it.
I would also note it's pretty telling that Hemingway's father killed himself.  Suicides have an unfortunate habit of running in families (Kurt Cobain, the infamous musician, was the fifth suicide in his family.) 

Christmas Eve

I did go out with my friends last night, but I had trouble sleeping on Christmas Eve's Eve.  I get up at eight every day, normally, and I think my brain is still trying to get me up at that time.  In addition to that, the neighbor's got this really awful dog.  My parents refer to these dogs as yippers, and I probably don't have to tell you what it is about this dog that was waking me up twice in the early morning. 
I shouldn't make excuses as to why I was so grumpy.  I was trying really hard not to be, but I get depressed at Christmas.  Without fail.  I can't remember a Christmas after my middle childhood that didn't get me sad somehow. 
I tried to get some things done, and then my Mom and sister wanted to go to the hospital to visit my Grandma.  I wanted to go too, so I came along. 
My Mom and sister decided they needed to go to a craft store, so I got dragged along.  While we were in the parking lot, I saw someone I went to school with years ago.  I don't think he saw me, thankfully.  I don't know what he's doing, and I luckily am not half the loser some of our fellow students have become, but I hate to rely on gloating.  Even if we could argue I deserve it. 
My Mom and sister spent a long time looking at frames and posters.  I think they originally went in just to exchange something and turned into a redecorating of the bathroom.  This happens a lot when they shop and I've learned over the year to keep myself entertained.  This time I wandered around a bit, focusing on candles.  Candles are one of those things I would use if someone else bought them for me.  I am loathe to spend the money myself.  I am even more loathe to spend my time sticking my nose in a bunch of dusty jars filled with colorful wax. 
I realized as they were checking out that it was 1:30 in the afternoon and I still hadn't had anything to eat.  I tried to remember my last meal.  Madison and I had split a basket of sweet potato fries at the bar last night.  That was it.  That was my last "meal."  I eyed the rootbeer-flavored candies.  They were appealing. 
We finally got to the hospital.  My Grandma was in the room, trying to sleep.  She was awake, but she refused to open her eyes, a normal tactic she likes to use.  We tried to get her to at least talk to us.
A few weeks ago, Faith had given me one of those headbands with reindeer ears on it.  I wore it at a Christmas party, and now I put it on in the hospital.  Even though my mood was souring, I was trying not to get upset. 
When my Grandma finally opened her eyes for more than a minute, she said "What the hell is that on your head?"
That's what she's like.  On a good day. 
She then decided she didn't want to open her eyes.  Then she was moaning for us to give her water to drink.  She's recently taken to ordering us to give her water, even though she can get it herself.  She also started ordering me around to wipe her face.  We're trying to get her out of the hospital and she won't do anything to help herself, since they try to determine if she can take of herself to place her in the appropriate kind of home. 
I went to the cafeteria to try to find something to eat.  I wandered around and saw nothing I wanted.  I have had so much sugar lately just the thought made me sick. 
I went back to my Grandma's room.  They were trying again to wake her.  She wasn't cooperating.  I suggested maybe splashing a little water in her face, which my Mom did.  My sister and I tickled her toes.  This mostly didn't work. 
She has a tv in her room, and I started looking around.  I found Criminal Minds, and this cheered me up disproportionately.  I squealed.  The sound wasn't that loud, but it scared my Grandma enough that she kept her eyes open for five minutes. 

I have recently taking to calling my love, Matthew Gray Gubler, the hottness.  Obviously if you've seen him, you don't need me to explain why I call him this.  My parents have started teasing me, because they think it's ridiculous. 
I tried to watch my show.  Nate texted me, saying Merry Christmas.  I was a little surprised, since Nate is Jewish, but I considered that maybe his family did secular Christmas celebrations.  We chatted a little via text messaging.  He said that his family was having tacos for dinner, which made me laugh and made me realize they really weren't doing anything special.  (Which is fine, because really, they don't have to.) 
Because Nate is part of a particular group of friends, I started thinking about those people.  I really wished I was celebrating Christmas with one (or more) of them instead of being stuck in this hospital, trying to bring Christmas cheer to my Grandma who not only was rudely ignoring us but not even trying to take care of herself enough to get out of the hospital. 
I texted Paul.  I almost called Paul to tell him that I missed him and explain this recent episode of my life.  He puts up with a lot from me. 
But I hesitated to call.  Paul's got family too, probably lucky enough to have the unselfish kind, and interrupting their Christmas celebrations is unfair.  I texted him "Merry Christmas."  Maybe if I was lucky he'd call me?  If not it meant he was probably busy. 
In the meantime, my family was in and out of the room, taking care of things for my Grandma.  I was left in there to watch her.  A nurse came in and started measuring her vitals.  My Grandma opened her eyes long enough to insult the woman's hair, which was tied back in a ponytail with a headband.  It looked absolutely fine, but my Grandma does this all the time, and this is part of the reason we have a hard time getting her help: no one wants to do something extra for an old woman who showers abuse on people.  I berated her for saying that. 
Then someone else came in to change her diaper and she peed all over the bed while all the sheets were gone. 

A Family Project

My Mom told me a few days ago that she wants to make getting me into graduate school "a family project."  No thanks.
As much as I like where I ended up, I'm still angry and bitter at them for forcing me to go there.  Even though I had decent grades and had offers to try elsewhere, my family wouldn't hear of it.  They were too concerned for what was good for them to care about what might be good for me.  I don't think I'm ever forgiving them for cajoling me into those circumstances, especially after they have spent so much lip service carrying on about how important education is to them, and how they always support their children.  Please. 

And then my Dad felt the need to tell me that he wanted to meet with my professors to talk to them about this.  First off, I don't think my Dad (or Mom) deserve to meet anyone from school.  I was involved in extra curricular activities and they had plenty of opportunities to come to those, which they rarely did, even though I invited them.  They could have easily met people there, but I feel like now, especially after events in which very publicly, I was the only one without a family, they don't really deserve that opportunity. 
Also, I'm angry that my Dad can't just accept that what I'm saying is true.  I've spent the last four years or so working on either getting into graduate school or working on plan B, which was entering the publishing industry.  I went to lectures, and I have experience.  Mostly, I think my Dad just doesn't want to give in, and would rather make me do a program I don't want to do because I would waste another at least another two years instead of doing things I want to do. 
I'd appreciate some support, sure, but my parents are never really interested in what I want, and, frankly, dealing with them is just another distraction I don't need.  At least when I was at school they weren't around so I didn't have to worry about them.  They're not really about supporting me, they're about doing what is easy.  I am never a priority when I need them, but when they decide they don't like something, that's when they pay attention and meddle. 

Out and About

Lisa was backing her car up. 
"There's a cop there," I noted, watching him walk past and then in back of the car.  We hadn't even gotten in the door yet, and there were police officers.  Was this foreshadowing? 
Once we got in, it definitely felt like we were early.  There was a ton of noise from the music, but almost no one around.  Two people came out and yelled at us, clearly both having a good time. 
I got a Long Island, because I have decided they are how I am going to judge a place.  Madison and Lisa both got the same thing, something fruity.  (I do not like coconut, which is why I do not drink things with coconut flavored rum.)  Madison said she wanted something that would get her really drunk, which is why a Long Island was really a good choice, but Madison likes fruit drinks. 
We found a place to sit near a billiard table.  It was this tiny little table, but the three of us squeezed in.  Madison had wanted to come here, but Dan had also suggested this place.  It was actually hard to imagine Dan hanging out here, but only because he likes to drink in the privacy of his own home. 
We caught up with each other.  I had already talked about what was up with me in the car, so there wasn't much for my to say.  Lisa talked about how her and Michael have started looking at engagement rings.  Even though Michael hasn't proposed yet, they've looked at rings, which really surprised me.  They've been together for years, and I figured they had thought about it, but I feel like you've kind of ruined the surprise of getting married if your partner knows you've been looking at rings. 
Madison talked about her crappy week at work.  She's been really stressed out.  She got reprimanded for a mistake.  Poor thing. 
As I was drinking the Long Island, I was struck by how hard it was hitting me.  I should have had something better to eat before we went out.  Like a hamburger. 
Tori joined us after about forty minutes.  She had a family dinner so she couldn't come earlier.  She got her hair cut, and it's one of those super adult short cuts that makes her look very momish. 
Tori complained about how her aunt harassed her at this family reunion over her hair.  And then she talked about her cousin, who doesn't speak any English. 
We were sitting near a window, so we enjoyed watching various people on the street.  There were a lot of bachelor and bachelorette parties wandering by and in and out of the bar.  One young woman was carrying a huge blow up penis.  She put it up against the window near where Lisa was sitting. 
In the meantime, I got a shot of whiskey and a Fuzzy Navel.  As I did the shot of whiskey, the man standing next to me at the bar was really impressed.  When I do whiskey, girls are totally ambivalent, but guys are always both scared and impressed.  
Madison wanted to check out the club next door, so we wandered over.  I decided not to order a drink right away, and I was really glad I didn't, because they were ten dollars.  (Who has that kind of money?)  All three of them got martinis of various kinds.  Tori's was bright neon blue and Madison's tasted like a thin mint liquidized. 
The only good thing about this club was that they played Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance." 

Dinner with Tori and Lisa

I went out to dinner with Tori and Lisa last night.  We had a nice time. 
We've been thinking of seeing some movies.  I already explained last month how I feel about Marmaduke, which is out right now.  I told Tori that I didn't want to see The Last Airbender the first weekend it came out because there's a boycott against it for casting white actors in Asian roles.  I do want to see Despicable Me, which Lisa, in her never ending hunt for cute things, is totally game for. 
Lisa updated us on all the drama going on in her life.  I feel bad for her, because most of it sounds like stuff she can't control.  Of course, I have, on occasion, way more drama, and most of the time I can't control it either. 
Lisa is such a sweet, well intentioned girl.  She has the sunniest outlook on life.  (For example, Lisa has stuffed animals in the backseat of her car, all buckled into an actually seat.  It's pretty adorable and hilarious.)  Her brother is going to be shipped off to the army soon.  I guess I'll just have to pray for him too, as part of my long list of people I'm praying for (certain family member, Josie, Nick's little brother, Nathan, etc...).
Tori, Lisa and I talked a little out in the parking lot last night.  I don't know what it is about our town, but because there's so little to do, it seems like we always end up in a parking lot somewhere.
We might see each other this weekend.  If not, we've already seen so much of each other.  Ashley's off on vacation right now, so we'll see her again once she comes back.

Last Day of Classes or, A Muppet Version of The Divine Comedy

Zut alors. Today was my last day of classes. I was kind of wondering if something of note was going to happen, but nothing really did.

Morning meant African history, where we watched this cool movie called Poison Fire. It's about the destruction of the Niger Delta by oil companies. If you think the oil spill in the news lately was bad, you haven't seen even a millionth of it.
Lunch with friends, where mostly we talked about movies. I asked Dan about his future plans, and he told me that he was planning on being around MSU for another year.
Early Modern European history next, which was okay. I'm still on the fence about the class. The subject is mostly interesting, and most of the other students are alright, but the professor frustrates me. I'm going to really miss Kelly, who is probably my closest friend in the class. We had a great discussion today about The Divine Comedy. It's been years since I read it, and trying to have a discussion about it to a class that hadn't read it is trying. The professor made this strange comparison between Dante's masterpiece and A Christmas Carol. I joked that now I want to see a Muppet version of The Divine Comedy.
I actually think the idea has some potential. Imagine it: Kermit as Dante, Fonzie as Virgil. A bunch of the characters can play saints. If we wanted to integrate some of the Seasame Street characters, I'd say Oscar the Grouch would have to be in Hell, just 'cause he's so miserable. ("Abandon all hope, ye who enter here!") The best part of this idea: Miss Piggy as Beatrice. Lol. She's totally the opposite of Beatrice, but I feel like it would be fun.
My last class was my feminism class. I feel like I've gotten a lot out of this class. Sam and I were talking last night, and she mentioned that she totally wanted to have a "angry feminist rant day," and I totally agree with her. I need to vent some anger; I don't care how silly I sound. Mostly, we ate snacks and talked about Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit.
I'm going to really miss hanging with certain people in this class, mostly Erin, Jamie, Kate and Sam. I met each of them a different year of college. Sam I met in my very first English class (so it feels appropriate we're ending in the same class.) Erin I met through Jon and Jane. Kate I met in my Greek Religion class. And Jamie I just met right before school started this term. Everywhere I go this last week or so, I find myself looking back to whoever I run into and think "Oh my gosh! We've known each other for x amount of years, but it seemed like I met you a month ago." Things really do fly by.
My big plans this evening were a walk and a nap. I ran into Mark and got sidetracked. Mark is really awesome. He's one of those people who you connect to on such a deep level. I feel like we are on the same wavelength. Quite possibly we could talk forever and never say everything. I have a couple of other friends like that (Josie, Colin, and Ashley all come to mind), and I love finding a new one. It's good to know somewhere someone gets you.
So no walk today, shockingly. Just a nap.

Basically, nothing interesting happened today (as a certain British king infamously wrote...), but I always end up missing the little and strange things about my past. When I think on my past, I always miss the people in it, especially the ones I don't see often anymore. I miss those great conversations, and the regular meet-ups (hallways, cafeterias, classrooms, church, basements, the woods, the Forum) and the jokes. And that's probably what I'll miss most about here: wandering into my friend's rooms at all hours of the day and night to talk or watch Jeopardy or House or Chuck, sitting around in the hallways having hours-long conversations and then getting yelled at by the mentors, having "homework parties" in rooms or lobbies, running into each other in unexpected places, taking classes together, making bad horror films late at night in the basement like the one above, caf sitting, office hours, working, and generally being a family.
It's going to take a while for me to move on. I don't even have the time right now to compress and get all my feelings out. By this time next week, I hope to begin the process.