The Natatorium

An emporium of oddities from around the world, complete with somewhat informative plaques that almost never match the item they are meant to be describing.

Saturday, February 28, 2004

Thursday was exhausting. I left the house at 7:30am and didn't return until 10:30pm, at which time I took myself directly to bed. When I woke up 7.5 hours later, I was still tired. Puh.

One good thing about yesterday is that I saw "The Importance of Being Earnest" as performed by Parkview High School. It was okay, the best part was the young actress playing Lady Bracknell, who was absolutely incredible. In the cappies room they had free food as usual, but this time it was served on china, and we had little tea sandwiches and hot tea in little china cups from a silver tea set, and I was nearly ecstatic. I must have a garden party in May. However, while the cucumber sandwiches were cute, they were not at all substantial, and I nearly slipped into a diabetic coma during the third act. One meal a day didn't quite suffice my demand for calories, and yet I didn't lose any weight. Hmm.

While reading Seventeen today (yes, it can be a relevant magazine) I happened upon a sidebar advertising their "America's Sweetheart" contest, tagline: "Let's make a real girl our role-model!". I almost moved on, but then noticed the acronym "GPA" in the text. Upon reading the paragraph, I found out that they're looking for a girl who is motivated to improving the lives of others while succeeding in school. It sounded interesting until I read that the prize was being featured in a future issue, which didn't quite sound appealing. However, as I came to the end of the text, I saw that the grand prize was a paid internship at Seventeen! I never was much for tooting my own horn, but an internship at Seventeen Magazine would be an unparalleled experience--there's no telling how much it could help me in terms of become a better writer, a better networker, and a better activist. Now all I have to do is figure out how to win....

Wednesday, February 25, 2004

Yesterday was really awful. It started out badly because I had to be at school at 7:00am, and my parents were leaving for Phoenix later in the day. They won't be back until Saturday. I know most teenagers rejoice when their parents leave town, but I'm under enough stress without having to maintain the house and care for my brother as well, not to mention worrying about their plane crashing and stuff.

Plus they keep flying off to warm places for fun and sun while leaving me here in the cold, windy realm of responsibility.

And then there was the volleyball. I won't go into detail, but if you've ever seen Daria, and if you recall the opening theme sequence, you'll probably remember the shot of her standing stoically in gym class, as a volleyball bounces about 6 inches from her, and about three seconds after it passes, she slowly extends one hand into the path of the ball. That is me. However, ignoring the ball completely quickly lost its appeal when my team ordered me to stand in the corner so as to keep out of the way, useless as I was, thus attracting the attention of my Coach, who asked why I wasn't participating. I explained that I *tried* to hit the ball, but that when I see a large heavy object flying at my head, my natural instinct is to move out of the collision trajectory. He told me to just do my best. So I did, my best being throwing my arms up to protect me head while screaming, instead of just moving to the side. The entire class proceeded to laugh at me for the rest of the period.

After that little foray in the 5th circle, I went to lunch to check on the AIDS project table, and found six people sitting around eating lunch and talking, and about $2 in change in the collection jar. This did not make me happy in the least, and I proceeded to yell at them rather loudly. The whole situation probably upset me more because one of the offenders was a certain female whose name starts with "T" and ends in "-amila", and when I told her that she wasn't supposed to be there (which she wasn't) she argued that she had every right to be there (which she didn't) and I proceeded to scream some more.

I then asked Todd to give me a reason why I shouldn't murder her with my bare hands. After seeming to grapple for a reason, *any* reason, for a few moments, his reply amounted to the fact that I had already told him, and he would therefore be an accomplice in the crime. And that is where iced the very shitty cake by making a total ass out of myself.

The day eventually got better, when I went to a MOrawk meeting and then out to the Mudhouse with Hannah and Courtney to regale them with the daily installment of "tales from adventures in high school".

Today was better, although there was still Volleyball. I'm actually (sorta) hitting the ball now, but I still suck horribly and I've become the prime human target. Today I got hit in the left boob (several high fives resulted for the marksman) and the back of the neck, both followed by extended choruses of laughter from all penis-toting witnesses. I hate anything with balls.

I have now decided that if Volleyball is involved, it is a bad day, which conversely means that any day not involving Volleyball is a relatively good day. I'll remember that to perk of my spirits when I'm late for work or lose my housekey in the future: "At least I'm not playing Volleyball..."

More adventures in Springfield:

My dad wanted me to research Liens on our property for some new sewer proposal in our neighborhood, so I went to the courthouse looking for public records. I was well aware (as my father had taught me years ago) that whenever bureaucracy is involved, nothing is ever simple, and I would probably be sent six different places before I actually found what I needed. That's exactly what happened. I started at the new courthouse, and was directed to the old courthouse, about a half-block away. At the old courthouse I was sent to two different rooms, then sent *back* to the new courthouse. Upon my second trip to the new courthouse, I was sent to what I thought was the correct room, but when I started searching I found out that in fact that was the room for *criminal* records, and I should go back to the *old* courthouse. Tired of walking back and forth between courthouses, I narrowed my eyes at the clerk. He gave me a web address. The web address helped me find my dad's property records, but as there's no record of liens on the deed, I had to do a search on the "lien search engine". That was about 30 minutes ago, and the screen still reads "The server is currently busy... please try again Searching... Please wait"



After "Mission: Futile" at the courhouse(s) I stopped by The Stock Exchange on my way home and picked up an awesome new outfit. I got some comfortable jeans with patches, fabric, ribbons, and Picasso faces on them, and a gray tank top with lace. Usually I hate shopping, but buying a really awesome and comfortable outfit for $8.53 really made me feel a lot better.

Tomorrow I'm on the go. Lit Mag editing, voice lesson, and cappies show! Woo-hoo!

Saturday, February 21, 2004

Well. It's over with. The Trustee Scholarship interview is finally behind me. Actually, it went quite well. In fact, I can't imagine how it could possibly have gone better, unless we'd had more time to talk. It was a far cry from the worst-case scenarios I'd imagined, where instead of telling them all the good things about me, I decided to tell them all the bad upfront, spouting off strange and deprecating facts like "I'm very messy" and "I don't understand the term 'parquet'."

Yesterday I had my vocal scholarship audition there as well, and it went very well also. I gave probably my best performance ever, I only messed up on the sightreading in one measure, and I spoke well of myself in the mini-interview.

Now all that lies between me and up to $112,000 is two weeks of waiting. Lots and lots of waiting. And then more waiting.

Last night I had another one of those dreams where someone was trying to kill me (death in dreams means change) and the cast was made up entirely of classmates and people from school whom I know on varying degrees. The 'assassin" after us was actually a kid from my Team Sports class that I don't know at all, but certainly don't perceive as very threatening. He's a sophomore, an athletic pretty boy with more confidence than he needs, and he's always grinning. Anyway, me and two or three other girls from school (who kept changing into other girls from school; they kind of shifted around) were fleeing from the assassin, who was apparently very good at what he did, as one of the classmates informed me. The same girl was kind of taking charge of the endeavor, as she usually tends to do in most things, and was telling us where we should go and what we should do, as usual. At first we were trying to escape from Nana's house (Nana was my 'nanny' from about 3 months to 10 years of age, and became a sort of adopted grandmother), and we were all very scared, and crawling silently on the floor through rooms trying to avoid our would-be killer and make it to a door.

We finally crept past him and ran out of the house and into Nana's neighborhood, rounding a corner just before he made it to the window to see us. By this time the girls with me had shifted into other people, but now they were pretty much nothing like their real-life counterparts. Furthermore, we were now approaching a lake (there is no lake in Nana's neighborhood) and still trying to escape the assassin. When we got to the water, he had caught up with us, but I jumped in and started to swim for the middle of the lake, which was starting to morph into an ocean. Apparently, he couldn't follow me into the water; it was out-of-bounds for him or something. I had previously instructed one of the girls with me to "try to seduce him" after she confided in me that she loved him. Before this, it was an accepted fact that he was un-seducable and in fact quite terrifying, and not in the sexy-scary kind of way, just the panicky wet-your-pants kind of way. However, for some reason I thought she could change him or something.

Later in the dream, I think I was alone with him and I took his hand, fighting his violence with love, and he had some kind of breakdown because he didn't understand love and I opened his eyes to the wonders of love and he threw down his weapons and became good and started crying and I healed him and blah blah blah cheeseball etc. It was very cool in the dream, but I know it sounds very stupid here.

Anyway. What I find interesting about this dream is the cast of characters. Other people in your dreams are really reflections of yourself; for instance, if there is someone in your dream who is very a very take-charge vigilant sort of person, they represent that side of yourself. This explains why in dreams you start out as one person and morph into another, or why you take over roles in dreams initially filled by another character. It's a very interesting study.

Well. I know that was long, but I haven't blogged for a few days. If you're still reading, yay for you for hanging in there. You should leave a comment to show off your fortitude.

Tuesday, February 17, 2004

I went to Hooters with my family tonight because Seth had a shrimp craving. They have awesome food, but my gosh was the waitress loud and obnoxious. Not while talking to us, but she saw Fear Factor on one of the TV's and started screaming and jumping around and grabbing random guys' arms.

I don't think I have what it takes to be a waitress there.

In other news, I told a guy he was "odd" because he disliked someone who said something mean to him 5 years ago, in the 7th grade. He proceeded to verbally decapitate me.

It's true. There is such a thing as male PMS.

Sunday, February 15, 2004

Sunday, Sunday! My parents are coming home, I'm going to give Seth a Bible lesson, and Liz got saved Friday night.

I want to be Margaret Berry when I grow up. She knows how poor Americans like us can change the world with ten bucks.

Saturday, February 14, 2004

Happy Valentine's Day, everybody!

Yeah, don't worry, I was being sarcastic. Still, Valentine's Day isn't *all* bad, because my family always gets me the teddy bears and chocolates that I lack from a significant other.... I think they feel sorry for me ;). I feel like going out tonight... but I bet everyone already has plans, what with it being the 14th and all. I really want to see Girl With A Pearl Earring.

I took a Quizilla, just for kicks:
You are one of the few out there whose wings are
truly ANGELIC. Selfless, powerful, and
divine, you are one blessed with a certain
cosmic grace. You are unequalled in
peacefulness, love, and beauty. As a Being of
Light your wings are massive and a soft white
or silver. Countless feathers grace them and
radiate the light within you for all the world
to see. You are a defender, protector, and
caretaker. Comforter of the weak and forgiver
of the wrong, chances are you are taken
advantage of once in awhile, maybe quite often.
But your innocence and wisdom sees the good in
everyone and so this mistreatment does not make
you colder. Merciful to the extreme, you will
try to help misguided souls find themselves and
peace. However not all Angelics allow
themselves to be gotten the better of - the
Seraphim for example will be driven to fighting
for the sake of Justice and protection of those
less powerful. Congratulations - and don't ever
change - the world needs more people like you.

*~*~*Claim Your Wings - Pics and Long Answers*~*~*
brought to you by Quizilla

Okay, so if I'm so great, how come no one wants me? =P

Tuesday, February 10, 2004

Well. Wasn't that a soul-crushing night.

The poetry slam took an interesting poem when "He" read a poem about his new girlfriend, whom I had not previously known about.

Then I read a poem about me being jealous over him. You can view it here.

Okay, I wrote it 7 months ago, and it was more about my disgust with myself than about him, and I had already decided to read it that night before I knew anything of what he was reading.

But apparently it struck a chord. He ran out of the shop shortly after and Hannah followed. She later told me that he was "absolutely crushed" and "his heart was ground into black dust" or something to that effect. I can't say I'm happy to hear that, but it doesn't sound quite as bad as what he put me through. Then she said that I should consider "apologizing to him".

And well.

That was just too much.

Apologize? Are you serious? I never intended to punish him; I didn't read the poem out of spite, and I never even intended him any pain. Any pain he feels is his own doing, because he feels bad about what he put me through, as perhaps he should. I'm not saying I derrive some sick pleasure from seeing him suffer; you know I want him to be happy. But it's not my fault if his iniquities have caught up with him. Yes, it hurts me to see him suffer, but frankly, I'm sick of being the doormat. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorrry" all the fucking time. I have rights too, you know. Maybe sometimes I deserve some respect. Maybe sometimes I deserve to say my piece. Maybe sometimes I just deserve to be who I am without apologizing for it.

Maybe that's not the "Christian" thing to do. Maybe it's not the "superwoman" thing to do. But I'm sick of being superwoman. I'm sick of neglecting myself to take care of everyone else all the time. I care for him. I want him to be happy. Isn't that enough? Why should I put myself through the wringer *again* to make him feel better for something he did to himself? If that's selfsih, I'm sorry. Even I have a right to selfishness once in a while. Anyway, Josiah said that I have to value myself as much as I value others.

The truth is, I'm just not ready to talk to him yet. Yes, for the most part, I'm "over" him. I don't think about him every second of every hour of every day. But when I see him my heart still jumps in fear. The thought of talking to him fills me with dread. Aye, here's the rub: I'm just plain terrified of him. I'm scared shitless. I'm so terrified of things being the way they were again that I want to turn tail and run every time I see him. I'm so afraid of everything he represents in my life that it makes me tremble. I care about him so much that I can't be near him. He has so my power over me because I love him so much, and thus has and endless capacity to cause me pain. That's why I can't cross that line yet. Someday I'll be ready for a relationship with him again. But that day is not today, and trying to console him now would just shove us back into our old co-dependent cookie-cutter roles. I can't go back to trying to make his life easier all the time. That's what destroyed us in the first place.

So what am I? Selfish cruel bitch? Empowered woman? Broken bleeding pathetic heap? I say all of the above. Maybe someday I'll figure out how to make everyone happy, but today is just not that day.

Monday, February 09, 2004


Left on the comments to Hannah's blog, responding to a post about the hollow hell of acute loneliness:

I know exactly how you feel. It's not so bad at the moment, but I go through periods of absolute loneliness-hell. I once described my loneliness to Sam as "gnawing"... he said he couldn't relate, but I know you can. I find that it gets worse if you actively pursue relationships and dating. Right now I'm doing okay because I've given up! (at least for now). I've accepted that now is not the time for me to be in a relationship--and honestly, I like it better this way. It's so... peaceful. As for further advice to lessen the pain... take a team sports class. Soon the entire male race will become repulsive to you. :)

Left on the comments to Rachel's blog, responding to a post where she described a recent dream:

I've been having more dreams of being in life-threatening situations. The night before last, I was stuck in a tall burning building, 9/11 WTC style. I still don't know if I got out of that alive. Last night people kept shooting at me, and not in a cool "fun movie gunfight" sort of way, just a "straight up terrifying" sort of way.

In dreams, death means change, Which makes sense because I know my life is about to seriously change. The Drury scholars weekend is just two weeks away...

I stayed home sick today; it was the first day I've missed this year (meaning school year, not since January 1) so I decided what the heck, just take the day off. I took a bath, then watched first Aladdin, then Finding Nemo. It was an English Club day, so I had Heather take over for me. The Poetry Slam is tomorrow night.

My parents are leaving Wednesday for Miami, and they're leaving me here to watch The Child, who is now pissed at me because he thinks it's *my* fault that the 'rents aren't letting him go to the Puddle of Mudd concert. Which, you know, it might be partially, but mom didn't actually change her mind until some college kids at her office told her what a terrible place Remingtons is. People get stabbed there all the time. He's too young for crap like that.

They wouldn't let *me* go see *N'Sync* when *I* was 12. How can they justify sending him to Puddle of Mudd?

Thursday is the JETS competition in Rolla, so I get to get on a bus at 6:00am, travel for 2 hours, and then take an engineering test. Yippee! I'm co-captain again!


Saturday Night was Laura's party at Incredible Pizza. It was lots of fun. Kid stuff can be really underrated sometimes. It was made more fun because Raymond and his friend Merek work there, so they got us on rides for free and stuff, and we got to watch them play DDR together. They are so *cute* when they play DDR together! I love it! They're both really good, and they hit everything perfectly. It's so funny. I suck at DDR. Raymond and I still haven't gone clubbing. Soon my pretty, soon.... ::cackle::

My friend Jessica in LA wants to write a book with me. The concept is that she's writing it to herself when *she* has a daughter, so it's like advice from 20-year-old Jessica to 40-year-old Jessica about parenting a young adult or something to that effect. She has the ideas, but needs me to write it, because, well, that's what I do. So, I'll be collecting data (aka complaints) from the various teens and twenty-somethings around me to get ideas for the book. She has several relatives published in Psychology and self-help, so if this gets through it could be good experience and maybe help my career. We shall see. So with that in mind, complaints anyone? If anything comes to mind that you would want yourself to remember about parenting a young adult (aka stuff that pisses you off about your parents) leave it in the comments. I am officially your new complaint box.

Friday, February 06, 2004

I took a Physics "quiz" today that totally kicked my butt. I didn't really study at all, so I couldn't remember most of the formulas, and when it got to the part with explosions, I just ended up using proportions because we hadn't gone over it this year and I was entirely clueless.

On the plus side, I installed a webcam! It's lots of fun. I've been acting stupid in front of it all afternoon.

I'm adding lots of new links on the side, just a heads up. Still trying to figure out my LAD fair portfolio.

Thursday, February 05, 2004

So I watched the CSI with the vampire cults tonight. It reminded me a lot of my vampire-obsessed past. In the seventh grade, I was a huge vampire enthusiast. I was too much of a chicken to actually do anything, or even dress gothically most of the time (though I did have a small collection of goth clothes), but I read everything I could get my hands on and obsessed about the spirituality and psychology of the symbolism. I still do, in that respect. I think vampirism is highly symbolic, and I intend to use that in a least one novel. One of the aspects I always find interesting in life is the contrast of light and dark, purity and corruption. It's the theme of all existence, in the larger world and within everyone's own heart.

Philosophical enough for you?

I'm trying to put together my portfolio for the LAD fair Writer's Hall of Fame entry. It's interesting work, going back through everything. I really want this award. It's what Josh won last year; the first non-shop thing I did with him, I think. It would be incredibly ironic if I won it with an essay I wrote about our realtionship, don't you think.

Oh, and this might be cheesy, but one of the categories is "journal entry", so I wanted to ask any loyal(?) readers what their favorite post was. Just curious. If you don't feel like going back and reading the whole blog, I don't blame you. ;)

Tuesday, February 03, 2004

Wow. I had quite the full day today. I had Madrigal this morning at 7:00am, but school got out early at 12:50pm for some teacher thing. I went to do some work for my dad in the afternoon, then ran various errands, including making fliers for the Poetry Slam and giving one to the Magic Bean.

But the best part of the day was yet to come. Hannah and I went to a "workshop" on how to record a demo at the Well Fed Head sponsored by MOrawk. It was educational, and after the workshop MOrawk had their meeting there. Long story short: I'm now a writer for imprint, their print newsletter! I'm reviewing a CD which, by a strange, Springfieldian twist of fate, is by a band that used to (sort of) go to school with me. It's Voice of Treason, for those of you who know them. Tres cool.

After the meeting, Hannah and I papered Downtown with fliers a bit, then went home. When I got home, I found out that I'd recieved the video Jenny made me about AIDS in Africa. Yay for Jenny! Thanks a bunch!

Like I said, full day. And I didn't even put *everything* on there..... wow am I tired.

Sunday, February 01, 2004

I went to eat at J Parrino's last night with Hannah and Laura, for their respective birthdays, and then went to see Big Fish with Hannah (Laura had better things to do ;) ). It was really, really good. It reminded me of a really great book more than a really great movie, but it wasn't at all slow like book-like movies tend to be. It was just a great story.

Jenny and I were spazzing out online today, and it got pretty funny so she posted our conversation under the heading "The Spazzes". We sound like we're on crack. It's hilarious.