Joining the Military

I'm not poor, I'm not a lesbian, I'm not from a military family, and I'm not unsure what I want to do with my future. It's not that I can't go to college, because I'm in already and doing well. What's my motivation then? Why would I do such a thing? Unlike almost every other career choice, for a woman to say that she wants to join the military, correction, for a female college graduate to say that she wants to join...

I receive a lot of questioning, I'm quite sure it's more than if I were a guy. It doesn't satisfy to answer the way a typical young man would (and a women certainly can't say she like guns, war, the military, or the likes). The fact of the matter is, it's complicated why I want to join and simple at the same time. But mostly it's just difficult to put into words, especially under scrutiny.

The issue isn't being female though. The issue is finishing the schooling I need to become a psychologist. Clinical graduate school is harder to get into than medical school. And when do I join? If I want to be a military psychologist, why not get the experience before? Should I do the reserve or not? Army or Air Force? What do I go into within the military? How many years will I be in for? Will I get called for deployment, which is fine, but what if it screws up my degree? What am I doing? My family will freak to an extent, and my close friends will not understand. I want a family and kids. When does that factor in? Does it? Will I even find anyone? Should I base decisions on a future that might never happen? Why am I so confused? I want to join. I like having options. Joining doesn't mean I don't get those options. It just means I face a world, that once again, just doesn't understand me. So be it.

People Hating

Dirty dishes in the sink for over 48 hours is disgusting. Asking for at least the kitchen to be clean shouldn't be an issue. When I stick your dirty tupperware that was left all over the counter in your cupboard because you were gone for a whole weekend, I shouldn't feel guilty when you confront me. You left shit where it didn't belong. We made an agreement at the beginning of the year. Deal.

As for you, dear roommate who hasn't eaten in over 5 days, I don't think God 'told' you to do this. Yes, fasting can be good, but everything in moderation, dear! A week of not eating is really not healthy (though in all honesty it has yet to be scientifically proven either way). But still people do die from what you're doing.

I'm sick of all the tension. Arab and Jewish girls using tear gas on each other on the tram is not a normal thing, thank you very much. Zionists, please, your propaganda makes me sick sometimes. Orthodox Jewish men, do you know what it's like when the only empty seat on the bus is next to you and instead of taking it the old man stares at you (probably wishing that the buses still required women to sit in the back)? Arab in the old city, as nice as your offer is, I don't want you as my husband, I don't want your son, and I definitely don't want to be your second wife! Hebrew teacher, is it possible for you to not always be a total bitch? It's a bit much at 8AM. Security guards, do your job and actually check our id cards, bags, and us when we set off the metal detectors! As much as I like that I'm not harassed, the only "security" you're using is profiling, and it's disgusting and will probably backfire on you. Professor who refuses to answer my question, get a new job. UGH!

Comparisons & Disgust

It's completely natural to make comparisons and to be curious about your ex's new girl friend. Especially when, as far as you know, both of you both haven't dated anyone since each other (aside from my one month fiasco of a thing) and most especially when your relationship was one of those classic first love, thought you were going to marry, long distance, head over heels, year and half long, tumultuous relationships.

It's been two years since we broke up, and I'm now past 20 and he's a few days shy of 22. I had no idea what I'd be comparing myself to when I clicked on her Facebook profile. I suppose I was expecting some college friend he was close to. I never, ever, thought it'd be a little pretty blond chick who is a 17 year old high school senior! Now, my parents are several years apart, but um, dating a high school student when you're a fourth year in college is definitely a low of lows. Funny little tidbit though is that she's exactly the same age I was when I started dating him. I sense a theme maybe? She's also from back home, which means it's a long distance thing. Sounding slightly more familiar now? Obviously this whole thing leaves me both horrified that I ever dated him, and happy that I'm far better off now. Ew and double ew.

Hooking Up

I just don't get it. My roommate here is acting utterly distraught over a guy she hooked up with a few times, now is only friends with, and who made out with some other girl the other night. Why is she upset? I thought it was just a "hook up" to her. She's hooked up with at least 3 guys since then. Does she expect them all to never hook up again with anyone else? Does she expect him not to hook up with other people, even while hooking up with her?

It all blows my mind. The consequences range but I'd personally rather avoid all of the following: embarrassment, herpes, heart break, awkwardness, colds, viruses, illness, ruined friendships, pregnancy, sexually transmitted diseases, rumors, bad reputation, crabs, bad relationships, and of course don't forget, everyone's favorite...death. No I'm not being ridiculous. AIDs is a big deal people, despite medical advancements you can still get it, and it still isn't curable.

But honestly, do you really think you'll ever be happily married if all you did was constantly hook up with random people in your past? Why would you ever suddenly settle down? Would you even know how? How about if you tried to build a relationship based on a hook up? I really would like to see a study on that, because I doubt very many people have great solid love lives...

Rocket & Shelters

A few weeks ago I went with a friend to visit her family in the south of Israel. Turns out it wasn't the best timing on my part. Gaza flared up again and decided to send over some nice, little, sweet presents.

Although I cannot truthfully say that I wished to avoid such things while here...I mean if it's happening, I'd rather have the experience than live in a delusion...I can definitely say I wasn't expecting anything to happen. I was already in the delusion then I suppose.

Oddly enough hearing rockets hit the ground does not just leave you with a feeling of horror. Sitting on the floor in a back bedroom, a thick sheet of metal pulled across the window, blocking possible shrapnel and all light, you expect to feel only horror. All you can hear in the dark room is arguing and worrying in a foreign tongue, the siren wailing through the suddenly dead city. You wait, working all the while to control the anxiety and fear. You wait. And when you hear the rumble of the hit, it leaves you with a mix of surprise and relief, as well as horror. The surprise is simple. The surprise is that there really was a rocket, and it really did hit. It wasn't a drill, or a false alarm. The relief is that you are conscious, alive, and far enough away that you were able to hear it hit. And then after, different from the anxiety and fear that came when you first heard the alarm, the wisps of horror dance about you, in your heart and mind, body and soul...they get all mixed up with your small warmth of relief. It's a strange feeling for sure.

It's been a while and I'm not in the south anymore, but when I hear the wind pick up and sometimes when the windows begin to make a whistling sound, everything in me stops for a milisecond, waiting for the sound to turn into the ghostly siren call that echoes and wails through cities in the south warning of the coming rockets. It sounds just like the wind at first. For awhile after I returned home to the North of Israel, every time I heard this sound here, after everything stopped for a fraction of a second, I would register the sound and breathe a sigh of relief to myself. I tell myself, I'm nowhere near the land where rockets fall infrequently like angry meteors from the sky. In reality, I am safe, but also only an hour's drive away.

Welcome to Israel

The people here are full of contradictions. They're welcoming but rude. They're impatient but slow themselves. They treat you like family, in both the good and the bad ways. They never say "excuse me", but they'll help you above and beyond when you ask. They rarely form actual lines, and cutting is somewhat normal. A machine gun strapped to a chest with or without a uniform is not an unusual sight. Kippas are normal and I can spot a wig a mile away now. Tensions are high between the different cultures here at points. Things aren't blowing up, war isn't breaking out, things are fine here, life is as usual for the locals. Their mentality is "what happens happens" and I'm trying to learn to incorporate this thinking more into my life.

My bouts of depression don't seem worse, but being away from everything that I use to call normal, well it feels as if I'm starting from square one all over again. My mind races with all I have to do, want to do, and should do while here. I'm not terribly pleased with my courses or peers. I'm not so happy about how much money I have to spend on just food alone each week. I don't want all the pressures, but I have so much trouble leaving them behind just for a few moments. I miss friends that understood me well, and that I understood well.

I miss having an identity. I feel like I don't have one here at points. Most people are very welcoming and don't care if you're Jewish or not. But when you're not part of the majority there are a myriad of things you simply don't understand, didn't grow up with, and don't know about. You miss that cultural connection you had with people that share some bit of your history. I love it here, and I enjoy the differences. But sometimes I wish it didn't matter that I don't come from the same background exactly. I wish it was just ignored. But it isn't always.

Exhausted in Paris

I know why the French are so tiny. They get their workout daily just by walking. I'm absolutely exhausted after only a week here. Taking the metro during the morning rush is tiring, cramped, and sweaty. But at the same time there is something nice about it. I think I just like being so near to other people. I miss being close to others, especially the kind that is present with really good friends, family, or a significant other. I don't have any of those here. I wish I had someone here. What I would give for a person to curl up next too when feeling blue or tired.

I'm both sick of and in love with this city. After only a week. I suppose it's because I'm trying to cram so much in while I'm here. Love, such a powerful thing, and such a struggle for me some days. I hate and love my depression, I think most people that have it would understand the meaning of this statement. Sometimes it just sucks the good out of everything, to the point that you can completely forget there is such a thing as "good". Yet, it's just as possible, that five seconds after a bout of this, you to notice something. Perhaps something little, perhaps something overlooked. That little thing, no matter how small, can bring the greatest joy, hope, faith, and love flooding back. It's such a strange thing, and I wonder if it's not the depression but just me.

The people here on the program with me are overall nice. But I really detest some of them. Well not them, but the persona they give off. I feel like I'm back in high school when most of us are 20 and 21. A few of the guys are total "bros" and thus picture well dressed frat boys who can put on a reasonable front but just want to shoot the breeze and work at their father's law firm. A few of the girls are too into having the most expensive and popular clothes. I couldn't careless if you've got a $300 purse; if it's ugly and not useful there's no point. Paris is pretty fashionable so I can accept some of this, I myself have been dressing up more than I normally do. Sigh, still more a fraternity/sorority crowd for the most part. Though a few us, nerdier ones I suppose, are getting along pretty well. Still, we all don't know each other very well and have different personalities...so at times the stress gets to me.

Paris

What a wonderful city! The French language is so beautiful, and the culture so diverse. I'm enjoying it here so far, though with each large city there is always a darker side. Here mainly, I find that would be the almost scowl you have to keep on your face when on the metro, the train, or the streets. Otherwise every minute a man will try to pick you up, beg, or get you to buy something. When on the metro your bag stays, always, in front with your hand over it. The sites, the churches, the houses, the history...tres beau!

Dreams (June)

I've noticed lately that I've been having a lot of dreams about traveling. Which isn't much of a surprise since I leave the country in less than two weeks and won't be back until early January. I've had dreams where I miss my train or plane, where my family is busy chattering away while I panic. The latest dream: I had a flight from Geneva, Switzerland to Sydney, Australia. But the two cities had gone to war and I was very nervous about flying. Potentially the most unlikely two countries to ever go to war, and completely unrelated to my actual travel plans. Strange.

Secondly, in a lot of my dreams lately I have trouble walking. Yup, my legs literally collapse under me after a few moments. It's not until they do that I remember how much effort it took to walk - almost like a feeling of walking underwater. They also don't just collapse, but usually I end up on my knees, as if my legs have just been chopped off (when even the dream they are just behind me like a normal person walking on their knees. A lot of times I'm carrying a backpack too, traveling still. I suppose this is all from my new show inserts I got last week. Since I hadn't taken care of my old ones, my IT band on my knee was giving me hell. Turns out I have to break in the new ones (wearing shoes I don't usually wear with the inserts for x amount of hours a day) and thus cannot run/heavily work out for two weeks. And I really really would like to be working out right now.

In the Middle Somewhere

I'd love to call this experience growth or a search, perhaps philosophizing? And yes, it is all that, but let's be honest, when it boils down to it, I'm just drifting; drifting about in this world just as uncertain as the next guy. I have no fucking idea what I'm doing. I have no idea if this is where I'm suppose to be, if it's the best place for me to be, or if it's the correct path. There I said it. It's the truth.

I've been a child, taught to respond to questions, people, and the world the way I was taught and the way I saw others do. I was a teen, questioning everything, rebelling, thinking, and knowingly lost. And here I am, somehow a combination of both of these as well as, hell, an adult (not a term I think I'll ever think applies to me). I've gone from being raised to believe in God, to hating him, to thinking nothing's out there, to believing in Him, to trying to (and essentially therefore) being of a very conservative religious mind set, --- to here and now.

So what the hell is here and now? Because I sure don't think what I'm told to, I sure don't hate God, I definitely think He's there, and I frown upon my old rigid mind set (what a first love can do to you). I'm here, in the middle somewhere. The middle of religion, spirituality, life, thoughts, and plans. And I like it. Because it's my path.

Missing Cervix?

Gynecologist: "Okay, let's see how things are. You'll just feel a bit of pressure"

Me: (wow this whole thing is really weird and awkward)

Gynecologist: "Okay...well things seem good...but, uh....um...I can't seem to locate your cervix?"

Me: "Um, well I hope it's there, it should be there..."

Gynecologist: "Yea, I'm just having some trouble...it's rather deep? (awkward)...hold on one second...(pulls out metal object that looks like it belongs in a tool box not on her tray)... you'll feel a little more pressure, sorry..."

Me: (oh shit)

Gynecologist: (literally searching) "hmmmmm....well this is funny...hmmm...AHA! There it is!" (smiles)

Dream (June 4)

Another dream about getting married, why? This time there was a serious disconnect between me and the in laws. We'd picked out an ugly frilly blue jean and floral patterned sack of a dress for me to wear. My friend Kate was the only one with me in my room right before the wedding. She told me to screw the ugly dress and I pulled out two frilly white lacy things. I pulled on a pair of jeans underneath, but then thought how inappropriate it would be to wear jeans to my own wedding. The outfit was too tight? I don't remember what I finally decided on but I was rushed by Kate who reminded me that the shadows would come out once the sun set. I pulled out a little point and shoot camera and told Kate she had to take photos at my wedding. She told me she was horrid at using my camera, but would take photos. I was late for my own wedding. I could see the wedding party across the way impatient but happy at the church and for some reason the convenience store - where I was suppose to get a pregnancy test!?!? In my mind I told myself: it's my wedding, the bride is always late! My groom was unknown? But at the same time there was no worry on my mind about him. There were "Shadows" that went after people after the sun set, so I had to hurry up. The dream skipped to post wedding and then there was a creepy thing cloaked in a black tight fitting cloth that was in the house we went to after the ceremony. We were stuck there until the next morning.

Then suddenly my husband and I and our son (his or mine from prior) were all behind this building, in a little inlet of ocean water with other people. Houses were surrounding it, except were it joined a river and went into the woods. It was all spelled like the houses to keep the shadows away. It was night. My husband was older than I by a bit, which was strange. (Reminds me of a girl I know from a church group who just got married. She's around my age and just married a man twice her age who has an 11 year old daughter!?!?! ) Our son, that's what he was in my mind even though only one of us biologically was related, was about 4 or 5 and adorable. He played the water and my husband and I discussed living there because of how nice and protected it was. Then I woke up.

The Truth Behind Religious Guilt?

Heaven’s Reward Fallacy: You expect all your sacrifice and self-denial to pay off, as if there were someone keeping score. You feel bitter when the reward doesn’t come as expected. The problem is that while you are always doing the ‘right thing,’ if your heart really isn’t in it, you are physically and emotionally depleting yourself.

Thoughts & Feelings by McKay, Davis, & Fanning. New Harbinger, 1981.

Just a Dreamer

I have a story idea, inspired by various things as of late. I usually have many stories that float about in my head before I go to sleep. I'll play them out as if I'm the main character and usually fall asleep still imagining. I've been doing this since I was little. I'd insert myself in a movie I'd watched, a book I'd read, or a tv show I'd seen. I'd change the plot, or work myself in somehow. Never was I a character I'd already seen. This all still holds true to this day. Sometimes I get on kicks where I have the same story line going for almost weeks at a time. I'm excited not for the sleep, but for the imaging time before I fall asleep. I rarely if ever dream of the story line.

This idea, for whatever reason, I'm writing down. Because I'll be driving and thinking about it. I play it out in my head while I'm in the shower and before falling asleep. I'm torn between believing this particular story is dieing to get out on paper or that I'm dieing to write something more than just the usual paragraph or two of creative writing I usually manage to jot down.
I'm terribly embarrassed about the whole thing. I feel like it's too twilight-like, too chick flick, too love story, too this, too that, too everything. I was inspired by the show Chicago Code and my trip to Boston last week among many other things.

There are no vampires, witchcraft, or monsters. It's the story of a college student who was raised in an Irish Catholic family with ties to the mob in Boston. It's the story of the undercover cop who infiltrated the mob. It's their friendship that develops throughout a difficult year for both of them. The pessimist in me thinks it's all shit, that I'm a dreamer, that I won't make it past twenty pages. The optimist thinks at the very least I could finish someday, that I could enjoy the process, and perhaps get it published locally.

Crush

Oh, it's been awhile since I've had a crush like this. I'm absolutely enamored. He sat behind my first semester in college in a lecture, and then I'd run into him every now and then on campus, at my work, and in a class or two. We'd say hi, occasionally stop and chat for a second, but not until this semester did I have feelings. We talked longer when we ran into each other, and I sensed something there. He causally mentioned he didn't have my number the other day, and we agreed to hang out before finals. He texted me wondering if I'd like to grab lunch and go for a walk in the park.

Now to any girl this screams "DATE". But to a few of the guys I talked to, it didn't. And I can't help but think it wasn't, that he was only interested in getting to know me as a friend? I saw him again the other night, we hung out in this dorm. We talked for a solid 2 hours and then watched the newest episode of Glee. (Oh yea, that's right, he watches Glee. Also his style is semi-Jonny-Depp-ish. He wears some jewelry and pulls it off well and use to have long hair. He dresses nicely, but not preppy or as if he bought it all at the mall. He's taken psych and philosophy courses, and wants to go to med school. He sings, and likes good music. He's chill and was raised Catholic but more or less does his own thing when it comes to religion. He's sweet and interesting, and hilarious. UM! Keeper? I think so.) Then his friends came in (I know one of them well), and we hung out. I caught him looking at me throughout all of us hanging out. Perhaps he likes me? Perhaps not? So many cues, so many ambiguous signals and signs, so much doubt in my mind.

When I left several hours later, I made sure to mention that we should keep in touch while I was abroad, and then initiated a hug. Who knows? *Sigh*

Osama: Why I'm Disgusted

Facebook boomed. News stations blared. People set off fireworks.

I don't care. In fact, I find it all rather sickening. Why are we celebrating? What are we celebrating? Yes, a horrible person who did horrible things is dead. It is a good thing that he cannot harm anyone else, or spread his philosophy of hate. Yes, it is symbolic, symbolic that we can take down those that cause evil in the world, that kill the innocent. I'm relieved, but I do not rejoice. The line between justice and vengeance is a thin one, and in this case very much crossed depending on the emotions people display.

‎"Faced with the death of a man, a Christian never rejoices, but reflects on the serious responsibility of everyone before God and man, and hopes and pledges that every event is not an opportunity for a further growth of hatred, but of peace.” -The Vatican's Statement on Bin Laden's death

On a slight side note: props to Obama: "We must also reaffirm that United states is not and will never be at war against Islam. Bin Laden was not a Muslim leader, in fact, he slaughtered many Muslims," Obama said. (Al Jeezerah English)

After a Bad Friday Night

Please consider being more intelligent next time you decide to tell someone with depression that it doesn't exist. You're not the one who just held a knife to her wrist, just trying to imagine how someone could actually go through with such an act. I know I could not, thank God, ever injure myself. Yet toying with such ideas and understandings while depressed is scary beyond belief. The morbid thoughts that come with depression leave me to wonder what the difference is between someone like me who knows they won't act, and the so many others who have.

Depression

Is when you cry yourself to sleep at 9:30PM, and do not fully wake until 11:20 the next morning. Sometimes, even little things feel worse than they really are and these unchecked negative emotions can grab you from the depths and pull you down, down, down, down.

Dreams (April 13 &14)

At a fancy train station waiting to catch a train to NYC so I can catch my fight to Paris. Miss the train, anxious. Packing completely last minute, throwing things in...keep forgetting underwear. ( I actually did wake several times over the course of that morning, each time having to briefly calm myself down, that I would pack in advance.)

The room I was in was going to flood. So I shut the door, opened the windows and put things just above the floor.

My room, set up differently. Trying to arrange things on the walls. My cross, a painting, my dresser.

My window, and the roof outside of it. My back yard neighbor is suddenly my art professor setting up for a party. She sees me and invites me to it, it's a graduation party for the current art seniors. It feels like high school again. I feel odd and putout since I wasn't invited. She wore a black and red or white old style dress. Her mother was there spreading leaves over some mulch.

Enlisting

A thought has crossed my mind, actually it's been brewing awhile. It's just an idea at the moment, not a plan. After getting my degree, I think I might enlist in the military. It isn't a fall back plan, or an easy out, or because I think I'll be unable to get a job. Actually, I'm quite sure I'll be able to get a job or get into grad school. It's an option. Though one I'm not really sure my folks will be grooving about, they didn't approve of talking about it as an option after high school. Which I'm thankful for, since they knew I'd do well and enjoy going on and continuing my schooling.

At the moment, my interest is in clinical, abnormal, and military psychology. I've met people here at school that have seen combat, that have been in the military, that have dealt with post traumatic stress as well as professors and others who have worked with veterans and soldiers. I'll be going abroad to Israel next semester and taking classes on Military, Organizational, and Trauma Psychology. And hopefully I'll be interning at a local VA for psychology credit towards my major.

Dream (March 24)

I was in a room on the basement/ground floor of the library on campus. I was with my friends Kate and Leah. I pointed out a cute guy next to us. Kate disagreed with me, saying that the guy behind us was interested in me. I laughed, and we watched a performance or speech or something of the sort. Then we were all standing up talking to the people around us. The guy that Kate had mentioned came up to me and introduced himself as Mark (actually it wasn't a real name but this is as close as I can think of). He was a singer in one of the popular a Capella groups on campus I found out. He held my right hand up as if we were going to dance and slowly we did begin to turn in a graceful circle. He asked me out right there. I was elated, flattered, and happy. I was also aware of all the eyes in the room on us, but okay with it in a way. I was also thinking that I'd text a guy I knew in the a Capella group to ask him what he knew about Mark.

The dream skipped here as they often do, and I was with Mark off campus. We appeared and might have been a few years older. We were in a gated community like area, but there were summer cabins and an overseer type of person that lived by the entrance. For whatever reason he let some people out, I wanted to go but the others hesitated. Now it was Mark and I, and suddenly a child who was ours and a male friend of ours that one of us had cheated on the other with? The overseer/landlord guy was turned out to be evil and wouldn't let anyone leave ever again. He kept us there by using some weird crazy complicated physics time warp black hole stuff. Hilariously crazy right?

So we decided to go get two people (who I barely know in real life) because apparently they were physicists (they're musicians in real life). Suddenly we're in a grocery store parking lot in a car. Then we're suddenly in a building. Then, I'm Angelia from the tv show The Office. I pretend to lose my swipe card and get into the office. It ends up working out really well because there is a new women named Angelia who just started working there. Suddenly it cuts again and I'm back in the car with the two friends sitting in back. We get back to the gated summer evil camp ground and...I wake up. What the heck?

Love Letters

What do you do when you get a letter from an ex? When you have been trying to keep your relationship just a friendship? When the relationship was only a month long, after your first love of a year and half. When at points you've wondered whether to you'd want to give it a try again or not?

But at the same time you know it isn't possible. You have differences in beliefs, growth, morals, attitudes, and thought processes. You're going to be abroad for 6 months. You don't miss him when he's gone. You're interested in other people. But once and a while you have the urge to kiss him.

Realization: The only thing left over is a physical urge to be with. Thus, you cannot respond back to that letter with anything but rejection. And you'll lose that "friend", who you cannot really call a friend, since your friendship leaned a bit too close to a mild relationship at points. All you have is regret. And sorrow that you didn't fully realize it as it all unfolded.

Overwhelmed. Exhausted. Tired. Down. Depressed.

I feel like all the energy and emotion has been zapped out of me when I wasn't looking. Like it's an effort to get myself to stand. I feel isolated from my friends. I don't want to call them. I don't want to see them in person. I do but I don't. I want to curl up and sleep. Or at least do something to lift my mood. It came out of the blue, and swamped me suddenly. At points it lifts a little or I muster up energy to do what needs to be done. But in general I'm just pretending, a shell, trying to feel things as fully as I usually do. Trying to be as real as I feel I should be. My back aches. My mind is heavy and full but empty of anything important. I dread work and the question of how am I possibly going to get this all done? And I as I write that last sentence I smile and feel a little better. It will be fine, and this mood cannot last forever, and it doesn't last very long since I started the meds. Happy thoughts.

Friendship

I want you to know that I love you. I will always love you. Love doesn't make sense, and it doesn't follow the rules. I think there is only one love, not many forms, only different ways of expressing it and different way society allows us to express it. I know it doesn't seem that way when you look at the world, but it's what I know and have found to be true. I'm proud of you. You know we don't look through the same lens on matters, but that's more than okay, I don't think we're suppose to.

Dream (March 10)

I dreamt I enlisted in the army, and showed up on campus for ROTC my first morning. Since I'm mid way through schooling it was odd and I was unsure what to do. There was a bus or a jeep of some sort and I was wearing a tan cameo uniform. So were several others. The superior spoke to me, of course in the stereotypical drill Sargent speech. I felt out of the loop and too new to it all, but other than that I felt fine, in the right place though still adjusting to it. I followed them into an office, where I spoke with other students. They mentioned there was physical training early in the morning, I didn't seem to mind the idea of that. And then there was classes or office work? All I remember is data entry. It was strange, I had a logical progression of thought about the whole thing, I had enlisted so that two years of my four would be while I was in school and they'd pay for it.

The Golden Rule

Dear Acquaintance,

I de-friended you on Facebook.

No one deserves your insults and disrespect.

I hope you see this:

Thank you, to whoever sent this in.

Truth is:

Life is complicated.

Depression

Sometimes I wonder if I'm slightly bipolar. The ups and downs of my moods are strange to me. I can't always make sense of them. Yet many, many, many of them follow periods of stress either academic or social. I'm trying to do homework right now, on a tight deadline, but I just can't concentrate and instead of getting anxious like I use to, I'm beginning a draft of this, reading a chapter of something else, staring out the window...

It doesn't help that the latest section of my abnormal psychology class was on mood disorders.

Dream (February 24)

I'm at my grandfather's house, getting ready to graduate from high school. I'm wearing white because we had to for graduation. I'm searching for shoes I think, and my grandfather, father, mother, sister, and uncle are there. Suddenly my film professor and students are in the house, but the house has changed. We find out there is a bomb under the house. Another pressure sensitive one. We leave but then go back in to get the food for graduation. But I'm the only one packing it up and bringing it out to the back porch. I get frustrated with my need to always do the right thing, correctly, and alone. I hate feeling like I'm a type-A bitch with a stick up her ass. Someone comes around the corner of the house and looks at a movie poster display that's there. I inform them that there will not be a movie that day. I feel like an ass. This all correlates to real life more than I'd like to admit.

Dream (February 9)

I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around myself as I got out of the shower. Suddenly I heard an electronic beeping sound. I looked at the towel and saw a black box machine like thing with red buttons or lights. Immediately, as always in dreams I knew what it was: a bomb. And for some reason, I had to keep it on me. In the dream I explained it had a pressure trigger, but this makes no sense in the real world. So I walked around with it on me. I contacted a few people to let them know what was going on. Somehow I found out they (whoever they were) were tracking me to make sure I was in a public space so they could pull the trigger. But they weren't able to track me when I walked back to my dorm, so they had no idea where I was. I went the day saying bye to people, just in case, waiting for an alarm. For some reason I knew it wasn't going to go off till night. I was in my dorm building, when night began to fall, an alarm went off like an air raid siren, and I knew it was time for me to go. So I hurried outside, where I saw my RA from last year with someone else, I yelled to her and asked her if I could borrow her car so I could get to the middle of the park quickly. I wanted to make sure I was far away from people. She tossed the keys. I was calm throughout the dream. I woke up a bit wound up though.

College Life

It's no longer ingenuity when you:

1) eat your cereal with a measuring spoon and use the leftover pint of milk you got with dinner the other day...

2) use the space between your window and screen as a freezer is completely normal.

3) use milk crates as foot ottomans, stools, bookshelves, and for carrying dishes to the kitchen

4) use the underside of your lofted bed to hang and dry clothes

5) use windows and mirrors as white boards

Dream (January 19)

I once met one of my ex's family's friend. He is now in the military and serving currently in Afghanistan. I've been sending letters to him over there once and while. In my dream I went to visit him in an office/hospital like building. His father was very elderly and also in the room. I gave his father a hug and then hugged him. He held me in the hug for a long time and as he did, I could feel and hear his mechanical/pacemaker heart. I commented on how strange it was. I even thought about how he couldn't really serve anymore because of it. Obviously he does not have one in real life, but in my dream I seemed to have prior knowledge of it.

Then there was something about catching a bus to the Amtrak station, but I got separated from my family who I was suppose to be traveling with. My area around my old high school was in the dream. As well as my good guy friend here from college. He was leading a donkey around a building, actually out of an elevator to another floor. The younger brother of a high school friend rode on the donkey's back.

January 17, 2011

The snow cried on that soft night, I think it was for you.

Rest in peace stranger, your roots were deeper than you knew.

And may the living learn to forgive.

Dream (January 14)

I dreamt I was adopted, that I bought flowers for my little sister with my dad but we'd only buy the cheap ones. Also fought with my father about something in a store. My sister had some wierd problem where her skin was inside out on her face.