conversations with myself

I'm in a mood. My grandmother is in the hospital, and we really don't know if she will get out. I'm pretty close to her, so it's getting to me. I just need to

She and my grandfather were totally in love every moment of their lives. They were inseparable. A photographer, my grandfather used her in all of his pictures. She was his muse, his love, and his life. He always called her Bunny. All through the house was little bunny figurines he bought for her, and cards and love letters written to Bunny.

When my grandfather died, I worried that my grandmother might not get through it. He had a long illness, and she nursed him throughout. She was strong, and remained strong through the end and beyone. And she still gets a youthful glint in her eye everytime she talks about him.

About ten years after my grandfather died, they pulled some walls down in the living room to fix some plumbing issues. Behind the plaster, they found scrawled on the inner wall the phrase "I love you Bunny". It was like my grandfather transcended death to send her that message. That was the first time I ever saw my grandmother caught off guard.

The other day, I was standing next to my grandmother's hospital bed, holding her hand and keeping her company. She suddenly looked over and said to me "In your marriage, I wish you have what I had". It was the best thing anyone could wish.

Avoiding Responsibility...Again

I am in my last year of my undergrad, and my mind is swimming with all the crap I need to do. Appointments, meetings, applications, internships, grad school...I feel like all this stuff is so heavy it's making me go catatonic. It's like it will never go away, and the weight of it will be with me forever.

I guess this is the fear part of college. Can I get through this semester? Can I get my internship where I want to, or will I be scrambling at the last second and miss the deadline? WillI get into grad school, or has this all been for shit? Honestly, I am in the exercise science department for many reasons, but not for the reasons most people are there. I don't work out, so being surrounded by athletes doesn't really do it for me. Don't get me wrong, I have the utmost respect for anyone who does what they do, but it's just not MY thing. My thing is massage and bellydance. Those two aspects of my life led me here. I loved massotherapy school and love massage, which really set the ball rolling for me. I also love bellydance, and am on my own mission for it to be seen as an exercise and therapy rather than some weird pasttime or hoochy koochy dance. I am learning how to make it a real workout AND how to quantify it as such. I firmly believe that the moves in bellydance can treat body pain rather than cause it, and I am learning how to let other people know. Maybe that's why I'm here.

Mainly, I'm in my field because it makes sense to me if I want to go to physical therapy school. I've wanted it for so long, and for almost ten years, it was just something I wanted to do but didn't pursue for whatever reason - money, time, self doubt, fear of failure/success/growing up, whatever. And now I'm racked with doubt. Add severe burnout and a very unpleasant year ahead of me, and you have the reason I'm writing this.

I guess this all stems from some conversations I was involved with today. Students talking about the application processes for grad school, and all the crap I have to do just to be considered. Then I heard they will be having double the applicants at the time I will be applying. The school only takes 20 students, and over 40 will be applying. I'm a good student, but am I good enough? A bunch of the people applying with me are straight A students who seem to be much sharper and focused than I am. I am good, but not THAT good. What happens to me if I don't get accepted? Then I'm stuck with a degree I can't really do anything with that would pay the bills, and the last four years of my life are expensive and worthless, and the future is bleak, and I will end up exactly where I am right now.

I know this is a normal feeling, and that it will pass. But for right now, it's here with a vengeance. But I'm not giving up. I'm going to keep on truckin', keep my nose to the grindstone, and remember all the other cheesy cliches that will help get me through this. That and a lot of bitching. I find it quite therapeutic.

Hey, I'm a blogger!

So this is what that whole blogging thing is about, huh? Kind of like posting, but I'm talking to myself...hmmm...

I think my feet are really big...

And I never liked pickles...it's the only part of the hamburger that Gummo spits out.

Sometimes I scratch my butt in public and smile. I especially like to make funny faces at the people in the next stall in public bathrooms, just because they will never know.

My physiology professor is a billion years old, and sounds like Katherine Hepburn. I'm afraid he's going to die in front of us while explaining the Kreb's cycle. He actually told us he is stage 1 Alzheimer's. Judging from the fact that he rarely wears shoes in class and messes up the powerpoints, I'm not sure he was joking.

And my kineseology teacher is a dillhole. He's not even a teacher. He's a physical therapist who taught one class ever. He mixes the whole class up. He told people that the anconeus muscle is in the knee - it's around the elbow! I'm a body geek. I can't help it.

Well, I think my first blog went ok. I feel like i got a few things off my chest. Maybe I'll write a bedtime story next time.