It's 5 AM here in Vancouver, WA

Intrepid readers, I was awoken while sleeping by my coughing, got into the shower to try and loosen some of the shit in my lungs. I tried to go back to bed and just creaked open the laptop and kept coughing. Not really a problem, if I was staying at the Hilton on my own. Instead of keeping my sometimes-supervisor Heather up through the remaining wee hours, I put on my bra and Five Fingers, finger-combed my moist tresses and here I sit in the Hilton lobby. (Digression: They re-sized women's FiveFingers, where the W40 are a little large for me the NEW W40 fit me perfectly at the heel. They also come in blue and leaf-green with grey.) Yesterday was my first day at my first international AEE conference, and the first session I went to was on the postmodern student, to me the solution to the student that wants to smoke on expedition or bring iPods, I would bring that back to the student. How do you think that will change your experience? That of your peers? And you blend it, saying things like, when I have my iPod on, I tend to have a harder time paying attention to others; how does wearing your iPod affect you? Also, my supervisor Dave recently told me that it is valuable to seek to understand, then be understood, to create a healthy repor and relationships. Coming to this conference shows me where my organization is really quite strong (I was well-trained as a facilitator), and where we are lacking (inter-organization communicaton, well-defined positions, poor utilization of resources at times, diversity of staff and recruiting of alumni). This has very little to do with me, being a peon at the front-lines. I work with students in schools and on-property, and I really make change. However you can train people to be in my position. People need to grow and have experience to hold the positions which are currently open, so there's not a lot I can do to help. As far as conferences go, I think this conference is pretty fantastic, and I am thrilled that The Ivy sent 8 individuals to learn and grow from it.

I have a confession to make.

My life is like a romantic comedy. I mean, not with the happily-ever-after part of things. More like the "zanyness ensues" aspect. Or, more specifically, I have seen so many romantic comedies and comedy films with strong romantic elements or romantic dramas with sarcasm and irony that I can find a quote for almost any situation, emotion, or angsty 'blog that lies within my ribcage. Joe from You've Got Mail: Have you ever become the worst version of yourself. That a pandora's box of all the hateful things, your spite, your arrogance, your condecension has sprung open? Someone upsets you and instead of smiling and walking away... you zing them. "Hello it's Mr Nasty".... Wouldn’t it be great if I could pass all my zingers to you, then I could always be nice and you could be nasty whenever you wanted to be. Although I must warn you... when you eventually have the pleasure of saying the thing you want to say at the moment you’re wanting to say it... remorse eventually follows... Clearly, I should have just ignored the late-night text message. Instead I got in to a passionate, silent argument where self-preservation motivated my own unkind behavior, when all the sender wanted was someone to talk to. I just can't be that someone right now. One day I will have to make a massive post on all the best Romantic Comedies. Christmas in Connecticut, anyone?

I am cross-website photogenic

I just woke up from a dream in which I was Ariel on ice (in disneyland where I suddenly became very proficient at toe loops and single lutzes). Also there was meringue making. Not real life, in the dream. Oooh, which reminds me, I have key limes. Yes, I am still sick. I know, it's pitiful. But at least I have bizarre dreams where I get critiqued for my swimming ability and imperfect body and nothing fits me, hooray! And who profits from said dreams? All of you fine readers who don't remember your own fever-addled dreams, which I have impeccable memory of. Now since I'm already missing arts in Japan I am going back to nap.

This may or may not be an emergency.

Approximately 1/5th of the housing complex I live in slash work grave in on Sunday night/Monday morning is vibrating vigorously. It has taken two and a half hours to get "them" (the powers that be at my school) to call emergency facilities management. Oh, bureaucracy. A couple nights ago I dreamed that I flew to London. The other night I slept and encountered an end-of-the-world sort of situation, wherein I just could not get away. I think I'm probably well-prepared for the real thing should it happen in our lifetime, I've dreamed of it so many times. Yesterday was a big rock climbing trip that I belayed for, and I did two climbs. Now my forearms are throbbing and the two ligaments on either side of my crotch are bruised from all the falling into my harness I did. It was great to get some energy out, to get physical and challenge myself. Back to the typography, let's hope the building doesn't fall to the ground tonight.

Motvational Quote of the Day

Keep writing. Keep doing it and doing it. Even in the moments when it's so hurtful to think about writing. Heather B. Armstrong of Dooce.com. I've been thinking about starting a historically-based blog on being dooced (that is, losing one's job for what one has written on their weblog), as sort of a warning to bloggers out there and support for those who's online and off-line lives have converged in that perfect-storm sort of way that causes you to reasses your values and existence. And, you know, find another employer. In case you're curious, here's a link to my previous entry On Doocing.... The entry lists 19 bloggers as of March 2007, so obviously it needs a little updating. I think it's also an art piece I'd like to work on, maybe a commemorative quilt or graveyard quilt?

Lots of choices!

I just finished putting my resume onto higheredjobs.com. I'm getting my Wilderness First Responder in March, but I don't have enough climbing experience to work with Educo, and I can spend my summer applying for fall jobs, which can be either reslife or part time reslife and outdoor ed or all outdoor ed. There are advantages and disadvantages to wanting to do many things with your life. You can always mix it up, there are forever options for places you can look for work, you have lots of unique skills that set you apart from a typical job applicant. The disadvantage is that I feel like I'm being pulled in two different directions simultaneously. Once again, I am the girl who thinks she can have everything she wants. I think I can be leading young people on wilderness adventures, and saving up money and living on-campus someplace. Reality is, it's probably got to be one or the other. I am thinking of going back to the camp I worked at last year for the summer simply because it will be easy. It will be doing something I know (even if camp is never easy 'cause of the long hours and low pay), and I will be able to concentrate on finishing thesis and packing up my Baltimore life into a couple door-to-door storage units before heading out to beautiful Northern Colorado. I'd love to see the girls who were in my camps last year, I'd love to work with Blue, who's a great peer leader and will be at her third year at this camp. There are so many little reasons that it makes sense to go back. It'll be nice to leave some things behind, lighten my emotional load, and be someplace completely different after graduation. Openings aren't up yet for the fall positions at colleges and universities, but I've got a start. I've got to try and leave my club at least as good as I got it a few years ago, and I gotta fledge from the place I love at some point. The date I went on the other night, I basically did the admissions schpiel for him as I showed him my campus and introduced him to fellow MICAns and grads at the local pub over some cider. I love the place that I chose to go to school, and I hope to one day work for an institution that inspires some of the same feelings in their students, for the same reasons it did for me: MICA was a place where I could fumble, learn, make mistakes, and start to grow up. And if I don't leave it, I'm never going to be who I'm supposed to.

Sick and tired

I'm cleaning the apartment top to bottom, yesterday my friend and I had a great domestic evening in which we did our nails, make sauce from scratch with fennel and ate it over miniature gnocchi (pictures forthcoming). I went to bed early, underwear inside-out-and-backwards and hoping for enough snow to sled on (we ended up getting none), and couldn't fall asleep for the life of me. Adjusting to the time difference is always hard for my body, and getting a cold on top of things isn't helping a lot. I can't breathe well, I have a humidifier but it's not helping a lot. Here's hoping I can recover just a little more today in preparation for the beginning of my LAST semester as an undergraduate!

Can't sleep,clowns will eat me

Antidote: ginger snaps, warm milk, and reading student affairs professional association guidelines for graduate schools. Snore.

Retrospective.

As I wait for my lasagna with matzo to cook in the oven before heading off to a critique in the class I TA for, I can't help but think of the past. I think of the past almost as much as I think of the future, and certainly more than I live in the present. Anyway, when J broke up with me, I felt like it was the end of my world. Then I lost my job, and then I -really- felt like it was the end of the world. Now, I felt like the world had ended, yet here I stand, enjoying the cherry blossoms and pleasant spring weather, and the world continues. It's funny, because I'd never thought of breaking up with someone or losing a jobas the end of the world before. My visions of the apocalypse included zombies, global warming, nuclear war, various and sundry medical outbreaks. But those are simpler, in certain ways, with obvious enemies and tactics. What tactics does one use to reconstruct their emotional life? I'm really not as depressed as this post may let on, it's just that I'm having a hard time focusing on anything other than the holiday, you know? Last night was interesting. My sleep schedule's been messed up, I've been taking lots of naps but not staying up late, and there were several points last night where I didn't know whether I was awake or dreaming, and even in retrospect I'm not sure if I was asleep or not. Bizarre.

Help!

I can't sleep and I'm addicted to adding stylish design rss feeds like Bluelines from Martha Stewart's Blueprint mag to my RSS feed aggregator.

Should be sleeping

Insomniatic again. Sigh.

A year ago today....

One year ago today, I wrote the following: I can't believe J and I have been going out since Monday night....so, as of tonight we'll be starting our sixth day together. Our first date was Monday, I took Justin out for sushi. We watched movies till we fell asleep together when we got back to MICA. We've just been spending every moment, waking and sleeping, together for so long, that it's bizarre to think that now J's going to get busy, and I've got to get down to business on Fashion Show, and we're going to see eachother...-not every day-. Today instead of dawdling when we woke up for a couple hours talking, J's alarm went off at six am and he got up to go to the annual boy scout shabbat. It feels like it's been a month. Justin took me and a few other MICAns to Sonar to see his sister's band on Wednesday night. Thursday night I met his parents. Surreal...last night we both told eachother that after a couple hours away from one another we felt symptoms of withdrawl. The break hasn't been unproductive, but I haven't gotten a lot of work done. And then there's also the wrinkle of working together and our roommate situations. I don't want to deprive his roommates or his Residents of his presence, but our relationship is becoming the most important thing to me, which is of course risky. A huge part of me can't even help talking about "us" like we're going to be together for months. Sort of adorable. So twitterpated, you know? My throat's SORE, I can't fall asleep (again), and I'm reminiscing. These are dangerous grounds, Elle. All the cable in the world, the reading, sewing, and even studying--can't let me go to sleep. Looking back on where I was a year ago, and where I am today, I can't help but think I like me better now (sans bitterness). And a year from today, I'll probably think the same. So glad the work's not all about the end of the world anymore, aren't you?

Insomnia hits again.

Sometime after four this morning, I wake up, blue. Like, real blue. Like, Blind Willie Johnson blue. In passing, people say "how are you?" as a greeting, not a question. I reply "good," or "fine." What would I say to people if I didn't have those two write-off words to turn to? "Why, actually, I have a terrible headache and my boogers are black and every time I see a happy couple in love I want to shoot them." Or something like that. Some days and moments are better than others, but for three hours I channel-surfed, ate gingersnaps in bed, smoked one of my roommates' cigarettes, flossed (twice), folded laundry, and otherwise puttered my sleep-time away. Sleep would not come. I just laid awake and wondered how I could screw up so badly, how I'm never going to be an RA again, and how the thing I loved the most in my life is gone. Happy thoughts, ladies and gentlemen, these were not. But, I'm making art, and I'm working hard, and I'm still doing two jobs on-campus, and I still have camps to apply to. There's even a small part of me that'd consider taking next year off, if only so I can re-apply to be an RCA my Super Senior year. But, I've got to move on sometime. Soon would be nice. I'm not holding my breath.

Sleepless nights

I tossed and turned. Shuttered the blinds, throw the curtains closed. Maybe it was the kona blend coffee I drank while watching Employee of the Month with W. Every crumb and particle that sandwiched between my skin and the sheets was a pea under my mattress, rendering it impossible for me to sleep. I brushed away the detritus, made and re-made my bed, tried to reach some sort of equilibrium of temperature where my nose was cool but not cold and my body was warm but not quite beginning to sweat. I went to bed at 11:40. At midnight I was up. I woke up and puttered around for a few minutes around two, when I finally unplugged my night-light. I covered the ambient blue light shining from the spine of my laptop. I wrote, re-wrote, deleted text messages, unsent, to lots of different people. From experience, I know late-night text-messaging is a risky business. At 8 o'clock, I was up. By half past I was waiting at the desk of the Commons for my New York Times to come so I could read Modern Love, maybe walk to City Cafe and get some coffee. As the paper arrived, he and I crossed paths. Twice, since I realized I needed more appropriate footwear for the grungy, icy walk to the supermarket. Today I'm making Magnolia cupcakes with my friend, I splurged on organic butter, eggs, and sugar. I have never made cupcakes from scratch. Instead of going to the cafe, I stopped at Dunkin' Donuts for coffee and a french cruller doughnut on the way to Safeway. I vaccilate between my head being cold and enjoying the breeze tracing paths across my shorn head and neck. And now I'm back in PJ's, avoiding the winter fund drive and guilt that comes along with it on WYPR, listening to Pandora, contemplating the days ahead. And, G-d, is there a lot to be contemplated.