Shiptease

If you follow this blog but not my other one about Semester at Sea, you're doing something wrong.

http://shiptease.blogspot.com

Peace out.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Some Things I Will Miss

-Roller hockey

-Playing my own piano

-Playing piano without people outside my family listening

-Playing guitar

-Driving

----and listening to NPR

----and screaming songs at the top of my lungs

-Seeing the GV kids' drumline season

----especially the seniors, the last year of the ones I knew

-Seeing the GV kids enjoy their senior spring

-Knowing where I am exactly

-The Simmons Pearl River piano

-Bothering everyone in the dorms at Penn State

-XKCD every M/W/F

-Dinosaur Comics every weekday

-Text messaging (just a little bit)

-The Internet, in general

----SomethingAwful

----GMail

----Streaming NPR

-Wait Wait Don't Tell Me

-This American Life

-Radio Times

-Using a mouse with my laptop

-Using a non-laptop keyboard

-Homecooked food

-Mom & Dad

----Ryan & Jess

----Cocoa & Ginger

----Gauss

-Seeing Nana a few more times

-Mother's Day? Father's Day?

-Spring break back here

-Making t-shirts

----Making the designs

-The Daily Show

-Jersey Shore

-Wife Swap

-My bed

----My pillow

-My blanket from childhood, if I don't pack it...

-My shower

----Specifically the shower head

-Mom doing laundry

-Pretty much every single friend from GV, PSU, Brown and elsewhere

-Land

-Lack of sea sickness

-Emergency room access w/out aid of helicopter

-Having fun without spending much money

-Bowling

-Springfield THON

-THON IN GENERAL

-Being at PSU and NOT being in drumline

-My old cell phone

----Really my dad's old cell phone...

-Feeling informed about world events

-TastyKakes

-Genuardi's

-Wawa

-Weekend nights in the valley

-TGI Friday's

-Cossart Road

-Math

-My single room

-Rigatoni's

In no particular order.

And I'm sure I'm forgetting things.

I think part of my problem is that I'm really good at thinking about all the things I'll miss, and pretty awful at thinking about all the things I'll get to know.

Peace out.

Jeff Free IX

Semester at Sea asked us to fill out a survey about our pre-voyage experience. I told them that I found things a little overwhelming, because they asked what they could do better. One question asked if you would suggest Semester at Sea to your three or four closest friends, and I said, "I recommend it to all of my friends, and sometimes total strangers." The last question asked what three or four sentences/phrases you'd use to describe S.A.S. to someone who was asking about it, so I said:

"It's basically a floating university, you take four classes for credit while you're on the ship, and you stop in 10-12 countries depending on what specific voyage you're on and you get to explore.

Then I give them a YouTube link to I'm On a Boat."

Maybe they'll appreciate that. Maybe they're sick of it.

Peace out.

Jeff Free VII

I made a list of things to do last night at about 1am and didn't let myself go to sleep until I did a bunch of them. I wanted to stop procrastinating. I made a list of all the trips I was going on and sent it to Dad, like he asked. I made a new blog for Semester at Sea, which you can see at ShipTease.blogspot.com. I emailed my pictures from Christmas to Gabe, and told her to get a gmail account since she still uses Hotmail. I asked a question to the literary reviewer guy on SomethingAwful for my friend Jennifer, who would like to have the same job he does when she grows up. I cut some designs downstairs while my cat watched. I put my pictures on my computer and changed out my memory card. I even put some adorable photos of myself and Cocoa on Facebook, which is amazing, because I never get around to putting pictures on Facebook. I tried to schedule for PSU Fall 2010 as well, but the schedule isn't available yet. It was 3am at that point, and I decided it was better to fall asleep and update this blog in the morning than to do it at 3am.

Jeff Free VIII

This took me almost an hour to write so far.

Jeff Free VI

I wanted a green cloth belt. I could not find one anywhere. I picked up Chloe from school on Tuesday and asked her if she wanted to go to Goodwill with me to try to find one. Eric J was working there and she accosted him. I picked out a cloth belt for $1 and decided we could just try spraying it green, so we had to go get some paint, too, which cost $3.

Last night I went to Chloe's house and into her yard with the belt and the paint. It actually went on pretty well, and turned from tan to green before my eyes. I let it dry inside for a little bit. The fumes made me wonder if I was going crazy, or stupid. I'm very afraid of them; even the can is very frank that it can cause permanent nerve damage. Later I went out and put a few black stencils on it, of Mr. Peanut, a penguin with a cane and top hat, and a bomb. They came out pretty well in general, although I had to do it outside, alone, in the cold, and so they didn't always lay completely flat on the belt. There was a little bit of blurring. I wish Chloe could have held the stencils in place, but she was sick, and didn't want to come outside.

We let it dry for a while. I tried it on. It's still very sticky, and I couldn't pull it through all of my belt loops because of the friction. We decided to let it dry more. It wore well before I painted it, so it should wear well now, right? I tried it on later and looked at myself in the downstairs bathroom mirror. It does look pretty cool. I'm glad we decided to be hooligans.

Jeff Free V

I had something of a crisis with Semester at Sea yesterday. Although I suppose the crisis actually happened at about 11:55pm on December 14th, 2009.

There are some trips that you can only reserve a spot on before you go on the ship. You have to request a spot during the Pre-Sale period. We got the field practica guide sometime around Thanksgiving, and it had a bazillion trips in it, and I remember reading through a good portion of it when I went to visit Nana that break. It was still incredibly overwhelming, though. The deadline to submit a request for these trips was December 15th, which is kind of vague, so I decided to make sure it was done on December 14th at the very latest.

December 14th was during finals week at Penn State. There was free food that night in one of the study halls. Kerry O was wandering around the ground floor at 10 o'clock or something like that. She said that all she was going to do for the rest of the night was procrastinate, study, or eat food. I told her that sounded great and we should go to the study break snack in Simmons together, and she agreed. At some point I started to feel more concerned about S.A.S. stuff, and I think I may have even called their 24-hour answering service to see if this needed to be done tonight. The guy said yes, and I told Kerry that this was going to take me a little bit, and would probably be frustrating for both of us, so I understood if she wanted to go. She insisted she really didn't have anywhere more fun to be, so she hung out, which was fine.

At some point I remember going to Drew's room, and Kerry was there too at some point. I think perhaps she did leave for a little bit and then come back. I introduced her to Drew and told her that he was going on Semester at Sea with me.

Anyway, I very very clearly remember picking my trips. I remember logging in to MyVoyage and clicking on MyTrips. I remember how the page looked - the same theme as the rest of the S.A.S. website. I remember picking a primary option at each port, then picking an alternative, and then holding Ctrl while clicking any additional alternatives. I remember the bill coming out to some ridiculous amount. [[Understand that these trips were things like Great Wall, Taj Mahal, Safari, etc.]] I remember calling my dad with Kerry still sitting near me, near the doorway, and him getting upset that I was "springing this on him." I remember telling him that it was going to be "sprung" on him anyway, so he couldn't get mad at me. I remember he called me back a little later, with Kerry still there, and told me to just use his credit card, and he seemed a lot calmer about it, like he wasn't mad at me anymore. I remember he told me to write it down, so I did write it down, on the back of my orange field manual. I wrote the four sets of four numbers in a box. I was afraid someone would think it was a credit card number, so I put a + sign in front of the numbers and started adding them. It was security through obscurity. I told Kerry what I was doing. I was proud. I remember putting the credit card number and information in, and I remember hitting submit.

I swear that the transaction had gone through.

We went to get food. I apologized for the wait. She was a good sport and I was glad I hadn't frustrated her or put her in a bad mood.

Yesterday I saw something that said the bus we were slated to take from San Diego to Ensenada was posted on our MyTrips page, along with all the other trips that had been assigned to us. None had been assigned to me. I had actually been a little bit worried about this for a while, but figured it was just taking a while. I then checked the Facebook group, and saw that some kids (but not a whole ton) had posted what trips they were going on. I figured maybe kids who requested fewer trips had them assigned earlier since they were easier to figure out; maybe mine was just taking a while. But I called just in case, and they told me that everything had been assigned. There was nothing on record for me.

I talked to my dad. He called the credit card company. Apparently the charge had never even been presented. It wasn't even that it was denied, or bounced, or rejected, or over the balance - it had just never shown up in the first place. I had no idea how that had happened, but I knew that damage control needed to happen as quickly as possible.

I called S.A.S's office probably 100 times in the next hour and a half. That might be a slightexaggeration, but I'm not totally positive. Eventually I got through enough to find out that there was a woman named Alison D who might be able to help me. I had talked to her once, and she asked me if I had the list of trips I wanted in front of me. I said no, but that I could get it together before 5pm. This was at about 4:15pm, and she was supposed to leave at 5pm. She gave me her direct number and told me to call her back. I found the list of trips and alternatives I had wanted, and called her back. Busy. Called back. Busy. Called back. Busy. This is where the 100 calls comes into play.

My dad realized I wasn't getting through and told me to call the main number. So I did, and they said she was free and would take my call next. Busy again. I kept trying. I left two messages and my dad left one. I even marked one as urgent!

5pm came and went. No calls back. I guessed I could just call her tomorrow and sleep with my phone on in case she called me before I woke up.

Leroy, Gabe and Kelly were visiting, and I was in a terrible mood because I thought my semester was about to be ruined/had already been ruined by a credit card malfunction of some sort.

She called me back at about 5:30. I thanked her profusely and apologized for pestering her. She was actually incredibly nice and understanding, and she apologized, as if the fault may lie on their end. Truth be told I have absolutely no idea what went wrong, so I suppose it's possible that someone went wrong on their end, but I suspect that I did something wrong. But whatever. We went through what trips were still open, and I took what I could. I think she had done a Semester at Sea before, so she even counseled me on a few decisions, which was really nice. I got most of the big trips that I wanted. The only downsides were that all the overnight house visits were full. I was pretty upset about that. I also didn't really feel like scheduling one of the super-expensive safaris, so I just took a one-day one instead. She said that was an improvement, considering all there is to do and see in South Africa. I also missed out on the overnight trips in Brazil, but she said I'd have a boat-full of friends at that point, and I'd find something to do.

Jeff Free IV

I'd been going back and forth with a woman named Joann at AXA Equitable in New York for a long time - like almost a month now - about scheduling an interview in New York. I would have to take a train up and train back in the same day for the interview; I was viewing this as reading time for Things Fall Apart. I looked around New York on Google maps the other day and found out that if I lived in the right part of Hoboken, I would two blocks away from an outdoor roller rink and two blocks away from a huge trainyard, which would be cool. Plus the drive to work would be like 35 minutes, with traffic, which is good NPR-listenin' time.

Anyway, I talked to her on the phone yesterday and she said that they provide housing at Columbia University, which I wasn't really feeling. And they only pay $22/hour, which isn't really worth it to drag me to New York when I'm getting $21 in Philadelphia. I asked her if I could talk to Dad, so we hung up and I talked it over with him. I called her back and said that I was really sorry, but I just didn't think it was going to be worth it for me to take the job even if I had the offer, so I declined the interview. I felt kind of bad about it. We both spent a good amount of time trying to make sure it could work out. Oh well, it's okay. Just business, or something.

Jeff Free III

I went to play hockey yesterday for the first time since the Sunday before Thanksgiving. I drove to the rink in Delaware right near the Delcastle golf course. It's only supposed to be a 25-30 minute drive or so, but I missed my turn onto Rt 34 in Delaware. There was tons of construction, and I swear there were no signs on 141 South to tell you that 34 was coming up. So I had to turn around after taking an exit when 141 turned into a legit highway. The ride there ended up taking me like 50 minutes. Tell Me More was on NPR, which I hate more than any other show on NPR, even more than Fresh Air and maybe even more than You Bet Your Garden or Car Talk, which all suck.

The rink was dry, which was good. But it was very very cold. My skates were messed up, sort of - the lace had come out of the highest eyelet that I used, and the tip of it was frayed and had lost its aglet, so I couldn't get it through. I tried licking it a few times to condense it, but it was no help. I needed to look at it earlier, before I came. I ended up just wrapping the lace all the way around my skate and trying my best to get a knot from that. It felt loose and it was hanging off the left side of my skate, but it was okay for now.

I didn't have a good puck to play with; just one of those crappy "speed pucks" that we'd yell at the ref for using if we were playing in a league. I had called Sports Authority earlier, and they said they only carried pucks made by Franklin, which are awful, so that was no help. Then I called Dick's and asked if they sold pucks by IDS or Rocket, and they asked me to please hold on. Ten minutes later they still hadn't gotten back to the line, so I called back, and asked again. Five minutes later they still hadn't gotten back to the line, so I called back, and asked again. I was slightly forceful with my question this time, and told them I'd been on hold for fifteen minutes already. I'd been talking to Nick online though, about actuary stuff. Then they picked up and told me they didn't sell any pucks at all.

After playing for a little bit, two kids showed up, about my age. They took half the rink, I took half. It was very cold, my eyes were dripping, my nose was running, and I was afraid I was going to get a headache if I stayed much longer. At one point I shot the puck out, and decided I'd had enough. I had other things to do at home anyway. So I untied the knot hanging off the left side of my boot and got in the car. I made a wrong turn again, and it took me 50 minutes again.

Jeff Free II

Two things predominantly come to mind when I think of last summer. The first is how awesome it was to have an outdoor rink that I could go to after work for hours every day and play for free. The second is how much I hated my job.

I got offered a job with ACE INA in Philadelphia for the summer. They pay $21/hour for someone in my position, which is good, especially since my parents wouldn't have to pay $600/month for housing and extra food and stuff. Apparently the guy named Jim who interviewed me really liked me (he was young, went to UPenn, was more of a computer science guy, and I could tell he liked me in the "I'd like to hire you" way) and asked me to work in his part of the company, which is predictive modeling. It does sound kind of cool, so I will definitely think about it.

However, I looked for outdoor roller rinks recently in Philadelphia, and I've been unable to find any. Beyond that, even if I did take the job, my dad would probably often drive me to and from, and I doubt he'd be down for stopping at a rink for an hour or two a few days a week. Marple is nearby and they have great leagues, but they play late at night. Speaking of which, I don't know if I want a curfew of 11pm as a 21 year old with a full-time job. I know that last year I wasusually in by 11pm in the summer, but it's different when you're friends with people who don't live in your house.

Jeff Free I

I went to Sonali's house on Wednesday night. We hadn't seen in each since July of 2008, when she left Walgreens to go visit India with her family. She was supposed to teach me how to draw a little bit, since I suck and she's going to art school, but somehow we got distracted by the idea of baking brownies, and never turned back.

We were looking over the back of the mix box to see what ingredients we needed, and it called for two eggs. She wasn't sure if she had any, so she looked through her refrigerator and told me, "Oh! We have exactly two eggs!" So she put them on the counter, and we continued preparing. At one point a few minutes later we were talking, I was at the end of the island and she was on the other side of the corner, and I could see where she had placed the eggs over her shoulder. Suddenly, too late for me to do anything useful, I realized that one of them was moving (pretty quickly) toward the edge of the counter. And then half a second later it was on the floor. Oh nooo!! Then we only had one egg, and we were sad.

Sonalia suggested we could go to the grocery store and get some more, since they were all out anyway. I, having recently listened to Hey Ya by Outkast/Obadiah Parker, suggested we ask our neighbor to lend us some sugar. We ended up walking across the street to a neighbor's house after she had called them to check. They had two young cats who were very compactly built and very adorable, and one of them played fetch. The man's name was Steve and he shook my hand. The woman was allergic to chocolate. Steve asked if we could bring him some when we were done since he could never have chocolate in his own house, and we said yes.

I learned a lot about Sonali. I learned why she kept going to different schools. We talked about our love lives for a good while, probably about an hour. I continue to feel very afraid that I am boring people when I'm talking, yet feel insanely interested in almost everything that everyone else has to say. I always give people the benefit of the doubt; she always searches for people's flaws so they feel more real. My flaw is that I lack follow-through and that I procrastinate, she said. I also suggested that being a total asshole and bad with people was a flaw of mine, but I guess she didn't think only taking two years to actually see her was asshole-worthy enough to agree with me. We both hate talking on the phone; she likes movies and I don't. Someone once told her that she "fires" her friends when she doesn't like them anymore. She told me that I could keep my job.

Plagiarism

What has been scene can not be unscene.

Who will speak for the breeze?

(The borax?)

Who will speak for the fleas?

Peace out.

Blew Cross

I'm pretty sure I didn't get the internship offer at Independence Blue Cross because I told the interviewer that I didn't think health insurance companies should exist.  Oops!

Peace out.

A Math Dream

I had a dream the other night that got pretty feisty as it got toward the end.  At some point, someone said something along the lines of, "Math isn't an art!"  As I'm sure pretty much anyone reading this knows, I am pretty gung-ho about math being an art.  Anyway, Michael S (the RA from the fourth floor that I played Scrabble with one time) was there in my dream as well, and for some reason he was extremely on my side, which was awesome.  So he sort of laughed at the person and then said something to the effect of, "Oh come on!  Believe math isn't art is like believing that the elephant population is multiplying, or that the planet isn't getting warmer!"  I remember stopping in my dream for my brain to cycle through things to say.  It was kind of surreal.  Anyway, later he continued, "Of course math is an art:  you need to do exercises to communicate effectively through the art."

I'd never thought of that sentence before, and that was the last thing that happened in the dream before I woke up.  It was amazing.  I wish I had thought of that consciously.  I think that's a pretty effective argument of why math is an art.

Peace out.

Compassionate Release

This is why we should have compassionate release:

"JLWOP stands for Juvenile Life Without the Possibility of Parole.

"This means going to adult prison for the rest of your whole life without even the slightest possibility of ever seeing a parole board. For children.

"This is very significant because even someone doing "straight life" (life with the possibility) at least has some date in the future where he will be eligible to go to a parole board. So a straight-lifer has an incentive to do his programs, do his restitution, whatever he needs to do- because those walls close in on you, you know; and even the hardest dude starts thinking about those words "life in prison" after a while. That's how they break gang leaders and get them to debrief, you know. Give them the hope that maybe one day they will get the chance to plead their case in front of a parole board.

"That maybe one day- far in the future- they will have a slim, fighting chance to get paroled.

"They know that they will be old men at that point but there is at least a glimmer of hope that they will be able to look at clouds without razorwire in the way. To eat that home-cooked meal from their elderly wife instead of getting a postcard in their cell that she died alone. To sleep in a real bed for a little while until the end. To go to a park and look at ducks and kites and pretty girls.

"To hold their grandchildren in their lap, and look at the pictures they drew with their crayons, and maybe go and buy a toy the grandkid will cherish forever. Maybe even be able to see the little tyke open the Santa present under the Christmas tree one last time.

"To die with a modicum of dignity in a hospital bed with flowers and loved ones and cards and painkillers and a TV instead of succumbing in agony while shackled to a prison hospice bed in a 5-day old dirty diaper being abused by a prison nurse."

(Taken from HidingFromGoro on the SomethingAwful.com forums)

(The part about the ducks and kites and pretty girls really gets me)

Peace out.

Attempting my first EMAIL BLAG

This is a blag update that I just typed into my gmail compose box!

HOLY CRAP!

If all goes well, I'll be able to update chemicalroad from aboard the MV Explorer just by sending email (which we get for free!) to blogger, essentially.  Which would be way cool, and much better than bugging my sister to update it for me, and giving her the password to my Google account.

Peace out.

Fun With Finals

We all sat outside 216 Thomas on Friday before our Math 416 final. I didn't even bother to look inside the room, but I'm guessing another class was taking a final in there. I only had to get a 40 on this test to get an A in the class, so I wasn't very concerned at all, and I had pretty much no stress going into the test.

Nicole, Fan and I talked for a while before the test. Then when we went inside, the only two seats open next to each other (pretty much) were in the front right corner of the classroom, so Nicole and I took them and sat down. I think I tried to look out the window to the mall between Thomas and Ritenour but I'm not sure.

At one point I turned to Nicole, and very conspicuously said, "DUDE, Nicole, did you SEE the e-mail that he sent like two minutes before class?" I paused a half-second for dramatic effect. "I am TOTALLY freaking out about this. Oh my god." And then I looked back, and all six people in the three seats behind each of us were leaning forward with bugged-out eyes, wondering what the hell could have been in said e-mail and what it would mean for them.

Of course, I was completely kidding. So I turned to them and just said, "Haha, nah, I'm just playing with you. Everything's cool." They laughed a little bit and looked relieved. Nobody punched me in the face or anything, so I consider this joke a success.

//

I needed an 89 on my Stat 510 final to get an A in the course. I was pretty sure that I could do that, but not totally positive. When I actually took the test, I was feeling more and more unsure that I would actually come out of it with an 89. I was thinking that, if I had done well, I would write at the end of the test "I LOVE YOU JOHN F*****!" [where the last part is my professor's last name]. However, I was afraid that he might take off a couple points on the test if I did write that, and I guess I just wasn't willing to risk getting an A-. So I didn't write it.

I got a 90 on the test.

I wonder what would've happened if I'd written I loved him.

I wonder if he'd have been confused when he realized that "I LOVE YOU" and the course evaluation that said "I learned nothing from this course and never had to think once" were in the same handwriting.

//

My Middle Eastern history professor is pretty unique. You have to meet her to really understand why this story is so excellent to the people who were there. She kind of looks like Mrs. Grotke from the Disney show Recess, except she dresses in colors other than green sometimes. She's very very calm, kind of zen-like, except definitely not Buddhist in her beliefs at all. She always speaks very quietly, and in her most absolutely excited moments, the most she will do is turn her regular talking voice to different tones to make it a little bit sing-songy.

Anyway, it was Friday before finals and we were having an optional review session. I wasn't even supposed to be there because I was taking the take-home final and this was really only for the in-class kids. At one point, a kid a row or two behind me asked, "Does spelling count? Because I definitely know the material, but sometimes with names and stuff I'm a little shaky..."

And my professor just stood very calmly and looked at him, kind of looked away, looked back. Not staring him down or condescending, just kind of searching for her words. And calmly she said, about five seconds later, "Well... we are in a university."

And the kid didn't really like that answer. In his same tone as before, he continued, "Yeah, but I mean, it's just spelling, do we..."

My professor continued on, as if the kid weren't even talking, and said, "I have this argument with my fourth grader every day..." [Whoa! Kind of a burn, dude!] "...it's not that your point won't come across, it's about how people will perceive you. You want to come across as the educated person that you are."

I think he continued on, but her stance was clear.

//

My goal for the semester was to not get a 4.0. It's not worth it - you have to do too much work, but you don't learn anything. I got one A- this year. I suppose I met my goal, but I still feel like I didn't go for my goal hard enough.

Live and learn, I guess.

Peace out.

Legion of Boom

During the Iranian revolution in 1979, people who feared for their lives would go to the border, find a shepherd willing to help them, put on all white robes, get on their hands and knees, and crawl amidst a flock of sheep across the border to freedom.

Peace out.

President Evil

I drove to Pittsburgh on Wednesday afternoon and woke up the next morning at 5:30 so I could go to school all day with my sister. I didn't get to bed until 4am the next day. Last night I kind of wanted to go to bed early, even though I had tried to nap, but ended up hanging out with different people until 3:30 in the morning or so, when I climbed into bed, thinking I would finally get some good sleep.

An hour later, at 4:30 in the morning, the fire alarm went off. I was pretty confused, though trying my best to prepare myself to get outside and deal with the freezing weather. I put on some pants, put on my heavy jacket (no shirt underneath), stepped into my shoes without tying them, and grabbed the comforter off of my bed and ran down the hallway with it around my shoulders. I saw myself reflected in the mirror at the end of the hall, and I looked like I had a cape on. Well anyway, we were all standing outside and being miserable. Some people looked like they hadn't gotten into bed yet. An RA came out and asked us to move further away from the door to make room for people yet to leave the building. There was a barefoot girl beside me and I felt really bad for her. After about ten minutes or so, I saw two people coming down the stairs and wondered how the hell they hadn't made it out of the building yet, then I pieced together that it was Meg and Christine, which was slightly more confusing. The alarm went off. They went back upstairs before they had even made it outside, and everyone else trudged inside and went back to bed.

Then another alarm woke us up at 5:30am. I put on the exact same costume as before, and was feeling really, really upset because all I wanted was some sleep. I expressed my anger when I was outside and a kid beside me - though I forget who it was right now - said he felt the exact same way, hadn't slept well in days, and was counting on tonight. I think the barefoot girl was there again. I kept thinking about telling somebody to pick her up, but then I thought it was my responsibility as much as anyone else's, so they'd just make me do it, but I had a blanket around me. Yeah, I know.

Alex said that if there was another alarm, he wasn't going out. Two a day is the maximum. He also said that the first time the alarm went off, rather than try to get out of bed right away, he just tried to put his pillow around his ears so he could go back to bed.

When I got back in my bed and left all my crap on the floor, I decided I wouldn't go outside if there were another alarm either. I live on the ground floor with a window that I can gently crawl out of in the case of any problem. So I could just wait until the last second and decide if I needed to leave or not. I also realized that I had not followed proper fire safety protocol - when I opened my room door, I didn't check with the back of my hand if the handle was hot or not. Then again, there's nothing flammable outside my room.

I had texted Malinda earlier to ask if she were still awake - this was at a much more reasonable hour of the morning. She texted me back at 4:23am (the first alarm) to say "Now I am :) ". Kerri also texted me the first time saying "Not cool." at the same moment that I texted her "WHAT. THE. F***." The next time out, she sent me "Im going to kill someone" at 5:40am, and I sent "F*** simmons" at almost the same time, again.

I ended up sleeping past noon. I still don't feel totally rested.

//

Hardly anyone goes on AIM anymore, and that makes me sad.

Peace out.

Thxgiving

When I went to Uncle Bill's house for Thanksgiving this year, I noticed some pictures and things dedicated to Carli's memory that I hadn't noticed before. One of them was a funeral notice. I think there might have actually been two in the house. It had a picture of her and a time/date/place of where her funeral and viewing would be. It also had a two lines where it said:

Given by God . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Returned to God

And had her birthday and the date she died listed underneath. I don't know why, but those word choices really got to me, and made me really sad. Not that I was angry that it had to do with religion or something, they just seemed particularly sweet. I didn't cry though. I did cry later when we had to leave Nana in the hospice and realized the chances keep getting much, much lower that I'll ever see her again. I tried to hide it from my parents but I'm pretty sure my dad figured it out. I sniffled in the car, and didn't do any work.

//

I can't believe I'm about to say this, but:

I bought the new Fallout Boy CD.

I've had it in the player in my car pretty much ever since, except for a break to listen to Arms Trader from This American Life. I used to be able to hit an F# above a middle C. Since I got the CD, I've had a lot of time to drive alone and belt at the top of my lungs with no one to listen or criticize, which is a great way to extend your range. I can almost get to an A above middle C now. That's three half-steps in like 10 days. Which is pretty awesome for someone who's been singing for a couple years now.

I actually just got back from a drive that I took just so I could sing at the top of my lungs. As a general update, I really hate college life and am doing my best to ignore it. So one of the ways to do that is to drive around screaming. I realized that even though I'm alone in the car singing, I still sometimes feel a little self-conscious, just a tiny bit, like I'm embarrassed of myself, usually when I reach for a really high note with my throat voice and squeak instead of sing. I'm a tiny bit surprised that I still feel awkward about it, but it's okay.

Peace out.