Unrulyness!

I’m actually just here at Clark without a book waiting for class to start. This is my way of not falling straight asleep like I did a few weeks ago. ZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz *uhwhatsgoingon?*

Alright so that didn’t work. Everybody should be rooting for the Red Sox right now, because who else deserves to win? Well… the Cubs, I suppose… But of course Boston is still cooler, and thus ought to win (forget Yankees; they’ve won too much for their own good.

I left my purse on the Shuttle. Oh crap.

– KF –

Recap

I don’t think I’m going to be getting anybody else responding to my survey, so I figured I would post again. If you haven’t filled it out, PLEEEASE do so – it’s in the post right below this one. When I get around to graphing and analyzing the results I may post them here if there’s any interest. Is there?

The last couple days haven’t been so bad. I saw Kristin and she drove me home (what a sweetie!); Jos and I got together quite deliberately and ate lunch. It’s good to see them again. I start missing my friends so much here, and I’m on the same campus they are… How can I see the same people over and over again, and never see them? There are only 1,500 students here total! It can’t be possible! But it is, and I’m learning to cope alright. This year is just helping to develop my more introverted side, and I’m enjoying spending time alone now.

I remember when I was younger – middle High School, maybe – my mom and sister went on a trip, and I stayed behind. Every day I got the whole house to myself; I played my music (or, better yet, no music), talked to the dog, and kept the house cool with the closed shades. I almost felt disappointed when Dad came home every evening at 5:30 because it broke into my quietness. Quietness isn’t something people appreciate much now, and it’s something that I do enjoy about living in our apartment and not a dorm. Our apartment has its share of noise, but some times it actually is silent. Nobody there but me, and everybody gone upstairs – you rarely hear this in a dorm.

After failing my math exam I felt quite apprehensive about having my geology professor return our exams. However, I managed a very tolerable solid 85, and anticipate getting about that on most of the future exams – hopefully a little higher. Three more points and I would have had an A, but I’m not fussing. That class was pretty interesting, actually; she talked about Nicholas Steno, a father of modern stratigraphy and at the end of class gave us a nice handout about him. Only I found that, as I read it, the handout had been copied straight from the internet with no citation! In fact the link I have there is the very paper she gave us, and it’s easy to find online, but the point is this: what kind of example is she setting, by first emphasizing strongly the evils of plagiarising, and then doing so quite blatantly herself? I’m thinking of talking to her about it – nicely! – and suggesting that maybe she’d like to mention her source next class. It just seems shocking to me after her having stressed more than any professor yet how she doesn’t tolerate such. It’s also quite amusing.

Last night Ian and I went to WPI and I searched Scholarly Journal Archive for articles on my Geology topic. That was great – JStor is really powerful. As I told Lesley, “It’s like searching the world!” And it really is. I found probably 10 or 15 articles that worked after an hour and a half of searching; I saved the links and emailed them to myself. But something happened in transit, because they never arrived and the links I’d IM’d myself took me not to the exact page I needed but the opening Search page of JStor. So all my work and good articles found must be found again. Very, very disappointing, after I thought I was completely set and ready to skim those articles, write the paper, and be done. No go… and on top of this my Marine Bio paper is due tomorrow. I looked it over yesterday and found it perfectly awful, so practically rewrote the whole thing. Though fixing mistakes cannot be faulted, I still feel it’s not worth any grade higher than a C. All my normal editors (ie, Mom and Dad, maybe Jess, maybe Ian) are too busy to help, so I’m left to myself trying to edit a paper I loathe.

I have been thinking much and seriously about quitting here at Clark. I strongly feel that we are wasting my tuition this semester, and I’m still not convinced that an English major from here, which emphasizes analyzing literature over the centuries, is what I should do. Writing and editing are what I do best, but those skills are lamentably rusty now, since all I can do with them is write scientific papers if I’m exceedingly lucky. What I would really like to do is write and submit my writing to publishers and magazines. However, I feel that I’m not ready for that yet because I haven’t the skill to write well enough. To that end I would like to take classes that help me improve my writing by allowing me to write journalistic articles, short stories, and essays. Perhaps another school here in Worcester could serve me better in that way, or perhaps I need to go somewhere else. I may be better off quitting college altogether and focusing on going to writing seminars – way cheaper than the $20,000 or so we’re paying for my “education.” I don’t knpw what the best course of action is, so at this point I’m just living day-to-day at Clark and trusting that with time God will reveal His plan for me.

Funny how everything comes back to God. That’s how the world is structured, and even my Biology professors can’t help but say organisms were “created” in a certain way: it’s so obvious they were created what’s the use in denying it? Now as usual I realized that I’ve written way too much for your average blog – but then, I’m not your average person, either, so how can those rules apply to me? 🙂

– KF –

Answer me!

I have a hypothesis I would like to test, and I need all your help. It’s really simple: just post a comment answering the questions I ask here.

1. Did you teach yourself to type fast and accurately? (Ie, learned to type before you got into a school sysytem)

2. Did somebody else teach you to type? (Ie, learned to type after you got into school)

3. How much time do you spend on your computer daily?

0 – 2 hrs; 3 – 5 hrs; 6 – 8 hrs; 9 – 11 hrs; more than 11 hours

4. Would you describe yourself as computer-y?

5. If you are in college or have graduated, what was your major?

6. How old are you?

As you might guess, I’m trying to see if there’s a correlation between typing ability, namely self-taught typers, and affinity to using computers. To make this study valid, I need a large number of responses – a pool of 5 people can’t be indicative of an entire population, you know. To avoid skewing of data (think about it… this is online, what kind of people are likely to answer this?) I’ll also be asking as many people as I can in person about this. Please respond to my questions! I’m very curious about this – and I won’t post a new blog until I get between 20 and 25 unique *real* responses. Bwahahah. Thanks so much for helping me out.

– KF –

Ponderings

Ian is at Game. I can’t stand Game. This is an old and ongoing problem about which I feel mostly calm but somewhat resentful still. *Pain* It’s completely illogical but I can’t stand the thought… So I’m trying to do my math and feel calm. Not angry, not resentful, not hurt – calm because I love Ian even when he’s gone doing Game, and I will show him that when he gets home at midnight (not like that!!).

I wrote these down a couple days ago. Here they are, just some thoughts to roll around in your head:

What if all this world is my imagination? What if I am actually locked in a padded room and am just escaping into delusions? Is it possible to construct such a complex world in one’s mind? If I were to make this world mentally, would I not make it as perfect as possible, peopling it with all friends? My world would be intelligent. Logical… yet the world is logical, for our Creator is infinitely more wonderful and logical than I. Fair…only I am limited and cannot see the Grand Plan. Now I’m realizing that, however unhappy I may be – and that is unhappy, sometimes – everything comes back to my faith in God. However dark things seem, I know there is a greater plan and that I have a part in it. Not forever will sorrow fill my life, for the Lord is good to those who love Him.

From the Random Slogan Generator: This Is Not Your Father’s Marriage. Don’t Get Mad, Get Marriage. Kids Will Do Anything for Marriage. Things Happen After a Marriage.

– KF –

Strange Dream

I never have dreams at night, not that I can remember. But last night I had one, and it was terrible – possibly caused by some of the stress of the week, or perhaps just straight from my somewhat crazy subconscious. This is what I dreamed.

Ian and I were in our apartment; the place looked completely normal, exactly as it always is. Some of Ian’s friends came by so he went out with them. As they left I heard a strange clicking noise which I could not identify. Intrigued, I went out to investigate and found Ian with his friends sitting outside on some benches smoking. Naturally I was horrified and demanded that Ian stop smoking (I’d never known he smoked in the first place): he refused, quite vehemently. Eventually he did stub out that cigarette at my repeated exhortations, but that only got us into a terrible fight, the worst we’d ever had. We went back inside, shouting and yelling furiously at each other, I hurt and demanding he never smoke again, he angrily replying that it was only one a day and he’d been doing it for years. Of course this hurt me more because I had no idea, and neither did anybody else in his family.

Inside everything was different, but this didn’t bother me at the time. The major change was we walked into an open foyer area with a long, tall staircase leading up from it. The stairs had a bend in them rather like the ones at my house, where you walk up a few stairs, then turn 180 degrees and walk up the rest of them. We ascended the stairs, and as we reached the top (still quarreling passionately) Ian grabbed me and threw me down them. I flew through the air – bear in mind that the farther I went the farther away the ground was because the stairs descended the direction he threw me – and hit the wall. Of course I fell down and was badly injured (I went into shock, I suppose, or the dream-part of this experience kicked in, because I could not tell what was injured, only that I had been badly hurt); Ian never even looked back, but just walked down the hall from the top of the stairs.

I woke up after hitting the ground, basically, and was really horrified and scared. The whole dream felt quite real; Ian and I have had some awful fights, and this wasn’t too much worse than any of those. Also Ian has hidden things from me before (namely playing Game), so I know he might do something like that if he felt that I wouldn’t like his actions/choices. When I went back to sleep I dreamed that I blogged my experience (I’d planned to do so when I woke up, so that was quite natural) and found, in the morning, 34 comments; among them, Ian ranted furiously against me and said that he would continue smoking no matter what. I woke up again and it was middle-early morning but I have no desire to try to sleep any more. Such real dreams, however ridiculous they may sound, are very uncommon for me, and to have one which culminates in my husband throwing me down stairs…

I think I may make myself some French toast or pancakes and try to remember that it was just a dream (so real!).

– KF –

Now it begins.

This morning I spewed oatmeal all over the inside of the microwave. I boiled it in there, and it boiled over but I didn’t realize it… Too bad I’m so short I can’t see in the microwave. Anyway I tried to clean it out as best I could, but I think I just ended up making more of a mess. Lovely image, oatmeal splattered all over the inside of our $15 microwave and me trying to reach up above the top of the fridge to clean it out; oatmeal splattering onto the top of the fridge – lots of oatmeal, I didn’t expect that much – and I hurry because I have to catch my shuttle. I should have known that with a start like that my day could only go downhill. And it did.

I’ve started getting those exams back. Yes, already, and I wish I hadn’t. Getting this back makes me want to cry, or hide, or run away. I literally failed my math exam – my easy math class that I truly do know everything in, and for some reason I failed it. Not just did poorly: I mean I did not achieve a passing grade. No scaling happens, so what I got is exactly what I got. No way to console myself; all I can do is feel exceedingly stupid for taking this class at all. It’s a waste – I don’t even need to be in it – yet here I am failing it. The thought occurs that I am actually failing the whole class right now… Which would be better, to drop it now and have it show on my transcript or just finish the class and have the fail show? I feel so stupid, how will I be able to show my face at WPI? All these smart mathy people and I can’t do Math 113. Ernie says I shouldn’t let it worry me, but this class will go on my transcript, though it’s a totally useless waste of time and (apparently) failure.

I wish I could just start this school year over again: I’d change all my classes to English major classes; I’d not have wasted time fitzing around in a bunch of language classes that I eventually dropped; I’d find an advisor that worked well for me right away; I’d spend more time with friends whatever the cost; I’d not be so edgy and disagreeable. As it is, I’m stuck with a sucky schedule and a sucky self; they seem to perpetuate each other.

The other thing: I hate excuses. I get boatloads of excuses from about half the people I know here. Sure maybe they’re all real, but wouldn’t it be better to say, “I’m not in the mood for hanging out right now,” than “I have to do my laundry (for the next 12 hours)”? Or “I’m busy right now but could we figure out a time later today/this week to get together” rather than “I have so much work to do I can’t see the sun”? I’m sick of it. If you don’t want to see me, just say so! Excuses hurt more than the truth in the long run.

– KF –