Labeled

Well, since I have done all I can for my Eastern and WSU applications, I went through and labeled all my posts. There are an awful lot of them, as you can see over on the right hand side if you scroll down. I think it is mostly helpful if a reader reads the post and says to himself, "self, what other things has Emily said about labels?" And then he can click on "labels" under labels at the bottom of the post and see for himself.

The lady at Eastern's grad office called me today to let me know that she received my transcripts today. She is wonderful and lovely. I am sure she is beautiful. Actually, in the image I have of her in my mind, she looks exactly like Marty, the math/comp-sci/comm.disorders secretary at Biola. Likely because she has a similar voice and shows a like care for a small person's troubles.

The person who answered the phone at WSU, however, sounded like a disinterested student employee who does not really know anything, or care that she does not know. Which is fine, I suppose. I have been there at times. But I do hope my transcripts got in there, as well. I am both terrified and hopeful, for various reasons, that I will not be accepted anywhere at all.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.

Twenty-five

There is another (I suppose one could call it a) chain letter going around facebook. The instructions are to write a note with twenty-five things about yourself in it, then to tag twenty-five of your friends. Those friends are then supposed to do the same.

I have a gut reaction against these sort of activities (I hate using the word thing. I have a reaction against these sort of things, and activities or any other word does not really express what I mean by that. grr), and I am not sure why. I never do them, on principle, but I realized lately that I have no idea what that principle is. There is not anything wrong with them. They are quick to do, and I have enjoyed reading the ones other people have written, but something keeps me from doing them myself. (is that a correct usage of myself? I get so paranoid about misusing that word that I end up never using it at all.)

This is a trend in my life not limited to facebook notes. I have never liked doing that which many other people are doing, even if there is nothing wrong with the activity. The earliest memory I have of this (though I am sure there are examples from earlier in my life that I do not remember) was in junior high when all the other girls were obsessed with makeup and boys. I never was, but not so much because I was not interested. I think it was more that I did not want to appear interested because everyone else was so very interested. I wanted to be different. I do not know how direct a correlation this has to the facebook notes, but it is surely related.

I am not opposed to telling people more about myself. I have a general policy that I will answer any question asked of me (within reason). As I read the notes that others have posted, I have thought of many more than twenty-five things that I could write/tell. But I still cringe at the thought of following this trend, becoming just another person who does the same note as everyone else. Part of me very much wants to write one, but part of me screams and recoils in horror, and I honestly do not know why.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.

My Wretched Day

It started out not so badly, you see. Got up, showered, dressed, had breakfast, made tea. Realized that my interview was in twenty minutes and that it takes ten to drive there, and so did not get to drink my tea. The first bad thing of the day.

The interview was not horrid, but I was nervous. Also, the ladies interviewing me were very casual, which was a bit off-putting for me. That is, I was not entirely sure how to interact with them, because it was very different from the atmosphere one usually encounters in an interview. So that made me more nervous. They said they would be making the decision today, and that I would hear back by five.

I came back to the house, and called EWU to check on whether they had received my transcripts yet. I had faxed Biola with my transcript request ten days ago for EWU, WSU and CSUF, and none had received them yet. Eastern confirmed that they still did not have it. The lady I spoke with was so lovely and nice, she made me feel as though everything in the world would be all right.

So then I called the Biola Registrar. They did not answer their phones. I called again and again, finally left a message, and then continued to call about every ten minutes. Finally they answered. I asked whether my transcripts from my request on the twelfth had been sent. They are very far behind, so nothing on my account has been entered into the computer. She leaves me on a soundless hold for about ten minutes while she (supposedly) rummages through papers. I had to check my phone about once every two minutes to make sure that I was still connected. Could they not at least have had some horrid music or something? No, just dead silence. Anyway, she came back, finally. (I realize I am switching back and forth between past and present tense, but I really do not care at this point.)

"Emily? Your transcripts to San Diego State got sent on the seventh." I know that. Ye gods, did you not listen to me at all? "No, the request I sent on the twelfth." ... ... "We never received any other transcript requests from you. Are you sure you sent them?"

At this point I started crying. I am so frustrated with life and already emotionally unstable this week from having to come back to Washington, and from being worried about my interview from that morning. Yes, I sent them. Yes, they went through. So essentially, they lost them, but refuse to take responsibility for it. Now, my EWU and WSU applications are due on the first of February. I had my requests turned in in plenty of time, but now they make me re-fax my requests, and I have to rush-order them, which costs ten extra dollars per transcript. Forty extra dollars, just because the stupid Registrar people lost my paperwork. I know that I am not the only person to whom this has happened. My mom drives me, sobbing, to her work to re-fax.

I do not have the money for this. My credit card is nearly maxed out, my savings account is dwindling, I have loan payments due on the first, and a phone bill coming up, and other stupid expenses. Stupid Biola, I can not wait until I am no longer dependant upon you.

I finally manage to calm down. But then five o'clock comes and goes, and I still have not heard from the credit union about the job. So I stress until seven-oh-five when my phone rings. I am sure you have guessed by now that I did not get the job. And if so, then you guessed correctly. I really wanted it, too. So that sucks. Anyway, anything more I would say here would just be whining, and I do not like doing that. So I will close.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.

Addition

I had another thought while planning that last post, which I forgot as I was caught up writing about whack-a-mole. My other thought which I had planned to type out follows.

Four syllable words, especially food names, always fit into my head as "the San Francisco treat." This is true of not only rice-a-roni (the actual San Francisco treat), but also of guacamole, Oklahoma, cherry Pepsi, alligator, and other such words. Make of that what you will.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.

NomNomNom

I made guacamole today.

If you right-click on the picture, and select 'open link in new tab', it will come up very large, and looks like...I am not sure. Some image of a horrid disease from a medical textbook.

It is a funny word, guacamole. I feel like it should be a near homophone of the old arcade game, whack-a-mole. "Gwack-a-mole!" Silly English, trying to assimilate Spanish words. Anyway. Guacamole is yummy. Nom, nom, nom. And it is also very easy to make, and very flexible in the making. I searched on google for how to make it (that is an awkwardly-worded sentence), and there were many options for the recipe. I scanned several, and then made up my own based on what we had. Avocados (obviously), a Roma tomato, a very small portion of a red onion (perhaps about a quarter of a cup, after being chopped), some sweetened lime juice (thanks to my sister and brother-in-law), and a small bit of salt and pepper.

I hope that it tastes better than it looks, because honestly, it looks fairly disgusting.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.

An Amusing Facebook Status

(name) has erased the fine line between genius and insanity, and replaced it with a small trout.

I am not sure why, but this really caught my fancy.
I inquired to the poster as to whether having a small trout placed one in the former or latter category, but she denies knowledge regarding that, claiming that small trouts add ambiguity.
Fish usually do, you know.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.

Trouble

Trouble, oh trouble set me free.
I have seen your face, and it's too much, too much for me.
Trouble, oh trouble can't you see
You're eating my heart away and there's nothing much left of me

I've drunk your wine, you have made your world mine,
So won't you be fair? Oh won't you be fair?
I don't want no more of you, so won't you be kind to me?
Just let me go where, I'll have to go there -

Trouble, oh trouble move away.
I have seen your face and it's too much for me today.
Trouble, oh trouble can't you see?
You have made me a wreck, now won't you leave me in my misery?

I've seen your eyes, and I can see death's disguise
Hangin' on me, hangin' on me.
I'm beat, I'm torn, shattered, and tossed, and worn,
Too shocking to see, too shocking to see.

Trouble, oh trouble move from me.
I have paid my debt, now won't you leave me in my misery?
Trouble, oh trouble please be kind.
I don't want no fight, and I haven't got a lot of time.

(Yeah, okay, so I have not done the whole 'entire post of song lyrics' thing since I partially abandoned my xanga. But this is mine, and I can do what I want with it.)

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.

Labels and Applications

I admire people who use labels well on their blogs. I feel like since I often touch on topics several times over, I ought to use that function as well. I think that when I am done with my grad school applications (about a month from now), I am going to go back through my archive and apply labels to my posts.

I dislike grad school applications. They all require something to the effect of, "Write a three page essay telling us why you are so much more awesome and wonderful than the other hundreds of students applying here." This is not a good exercise for someone who thinks that she probably is not more awesome and wonderful than those hundreds, and that she probably should not be accepted to a graduate program anyway. Except for the fact that she desperately wants to go to grad school, wants so much to continue in her field that it hurts. I wish I could just take a snapshot of my soul, and give that to them instead. Perhaps then they would see, and understand, and allow me to come.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.

Driving, Part Two

Remember when I said that drivers from here would not survive in California? Well, I have realized lately that this probably goes both ways, at least at this time of year. Driving in the winter is difficult, and, amazingly, people around here seem to become better drivers in inclement weather. (Whereas in California people freeze up when it starts raining.) For one thing, lines on the roads denoting lanes become meaningless in heavy snow. A road that is, in the summertime, two lanes each way with a center-turn lane becomes a road with one lane each way. Through the tire tracks, you can sometimes see a white dotted line, or a yellow line. But you simply have to follow along where the newly defined lane is. Sometimes this road will turn back into two lanes, only to have the right lane end abruptly in a bank left by the latest snow plow. You need to be on your toes to drive, around here.

Side roads are awful during the winter. They get plowed, but last. By the time they are plowed, the snow has often already been compacted quite a bit. I am not really certain how it happens, but after the plow comes through, the road ends up getting very bumpy. A combination of factors, I suppose, including traffic, plow, and weather. But driving on this type of road is tricky. The best way to do it is to not try to steer at all - idle along, not really even holding the wheel. Oh, of course, you have to have a hand on it, in case of emergency, but you can not do too much in the way of steering anyway. It is somewhat fun, once you get the hang of it. But I would be willing to bet that most Southern Californians would rather walk than try to navigate our roads right now.

In other news, gas is down to about one forty-five.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.