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Wednesday, April 29, 2009

On Notice: April 29, 2009

Monday, April 27, 2009

Random thoughts

  • "Falls Apart" by Thousand Foot Krutch is a pretty sweet song. Check it out. Oh and thanks to Cameron Mertens for the suggestion.
  • I'm kind of disappointed that we had to wait until week 5 to sing the best song in gospel choir. But it was totally worth it.
  • I've decided I'm not going to take anyone's crap anymore. Those who want to dislike me, can. That's their problem. :) I know there are people out there who think differently, and that's awesome.
  • The blue Mountain Dew is the best yet. I'm glad I found it in 2-liter bottles.
  • I'm joining marching band council.
  • If it doesn't take you at least 20 minutes to wash an entire sinkful of dishes by hand, by yourself, you're probably doing it wrong, i.e. NOT GETTING STUFF CLEAN.
  • Music therapy: 1) the use of music in therapy, i.e. to comfort hospice patients or help special needs students learn. 2) one of my preferred methods of relaxation, especially when paired with something kinetic such as painting. Give me an afternoon at Potter's Quarter with the amazing music they always play and I will leave feeling tons better. 3) My chosen topic for my J 203 term project.
  • On Sunday morning I had a box full of nickels, dimes and pennies. By Sunday afternoon, I had nearly $14 on a Starbucks gift card. Coinstar rocks.
  • I'm sooooo fullllllll...because I just ate eight crescent rolls within 10 minutes of baking them.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

On Notice: April 12, 2009

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Why I hate Greyhound (yet still rode one of their buses after multiple horror stories.)


I had made plans sometime last week to visit my friend Alitia and her family in Central Point. I bought my bus ticket a week in advance and eagerly awaited Friday night.

Well, sort of eagerly. Greyhound is notorious for bad service, overbooking seats and treating their customers like cattle. But I've traveled with them before without having too negative an experience, so I figured I would be fine.

Boy, was I wrong.

I got to the station about half an hour before boarding (I would have been there earlier. But last-minute necessary errands, the schedule of the LTD buses and the half-hour travel time between my apartment and the Greyhound station downtown prohibited that from happening. Still, I figured I would be fine. Because how many people ride the bus in the middle of the night anyway?

Apparently, six more than the 9:20 p.m. bus from Portland (the one I wanted to catch, and had a ticket for) could hold. I arrived at the station just after the guy at the ticket counter gave the waiting crowd his speech about how the incoming bus only had nine seats available and the rest of us would have to wait for a later bus at 11:30. I was 12th or 13th in line. What's more, the oh-so-accommodating bus driver informed us that the bus station closed at 9:20, so we would have to wait outside for the second bus.

Even better, there was a heavyset man in the front of the line who looked determined to get on that first bus, even if it meant taking a seat from an older lady or a little kid who ideally wouldn't be waiting for two hours in the cold, late Friday night in downtown Eugene, three doors from a rowdy bar.

I called Alitia, who had already planned on meeting me at the Pilot truck stop in Central Point, to tell her that I would be...running a little late. She insisted that it was fine, even after I informed her that I would be arriving sometime between 2:30 and 3 a.m.

I walked with two other female passengers -- better than being alone in the aforementioned situation -- to Carl's Jr., about a five-minute walk from the bus station. There, we waited, warmed up, got some food and ranted about the horrible service provided by Greyhound. One of the women was particularly outgoing and showed me and the other woman pictures of her grandchildren, who she was on her way to visit. The two other women had met in Bend and were on their way to California after a five-hour layover in Eugene.

Finally, the bus came. It was mostly empty, which afforded me an extra seat to stretch out and attempt to sleep on -- not that sleeping comes particularly easily on a Greyhound bus. After the six of us who were stranded in Eugene boarded the bus, the driver got on and was about to pull out of the alley when a guy sitting near the driver started telling her to stop because there were people running after the bus. A man and his two young sons almost missed the bus out of Eugene, even after the driver went so far as to go around the corner and remind everyone to get back on the bus.

After stops in Roseburg and Grants Pass, the bus made it safely to Central Point. I was dead tired and fell asleep shortly after I arrived. It's Saturday morning, I'm now awake and telling the tale.

Oh, and hopefully I won't be riding Greyhound anytime soon...oh wait. I still have to get back to Eugene... :P

Saturday, April 4, 2009

meh...stuff

Gravestone in the pioneer cemetery. It's kind of creepy when they're coming out of the ground like this.

A little purple flower.

A row of grave markers.

Gerlinger.

I couldn't decide which daffodil picture I liked more, so I put them both up. Gerlinger is in the background.



A tree and some daffodils outside the EMU.

The courtyard and waterfall behind Columbia. The fountain's empty for the winter.

A white tree outside Klamath.

The fire escape outside the volcanology building. Yes, UO has an entire building dedicated to volcanology. And no, there are no signs, fences or gates preventing people from going up to the roof.

A red flower.

A daffodil with some trees in the background.

The display outside American Apparel.

13th Street shops.

The Unsaid Vows of the Wilted Rose -- created by XXcrying4lifeXX

(Note: I found this poem on Quizilla. I felt it captured my feelings. Also, this poem has been edited for spelling.)

A wedding so fine
The flowers are perfect
The scene is breathtaking
But the only one
Who has trouble
Celebrating this moment
Of two lovers' binding
In holy matrimony
Is the wilted rose
Amongst a bouquet of dead flowers
At the back of the room
In a dirty vase
Alone and forgotten
As the priest begins to speak
The rose is forced to watch
As the one they love
Gives their heart to another
Sitting back
With the pain
Of their whole life
Stored in their leaves
Just waiting to burst out
And announce to the world
They are in love
With someone
They can't be with
The priest glances into the audiance
"Speak now
Or forever hold your peace"
The rose stays silent
The words of many years
At the tips of their petals
Aren't strong enough
To break the bitter silence
That fills the church
The priest looks back to his book
"I now pronounce you
Husband
And wife"
The cheering lifts from the crowd
Of happy faces
But no one notices
The wilted rose
In the back of the room
That has now began to weep
For their love lost
The rose regrets staying silent
The words they thought of saying
Are now just the unsaid vows
That no one will hear

Friday, April 3, 2009

Movie review: Fireproof

SPOILER ALERT: I watched Fireproof last night, on the recommendation of a friend. It was a pretty epic movie. Basically, it's about a firefighter named Caleb who is consistently lauded as a hero by his colleagues, but whose marriage is on the verge of crumbling.

However, through the combination of a newfound faith and a 40-day "Love Dare" given to him by his father, he manages to reconcile with his wife and the two end up renewing their wedding vows in a beautiful park by a lake -- the site of a former church summer camp (complete with conveniently placed cross) -- as the credits roll.

However, one thing didn't quite make sense...in the end, Katherine (the wife) finally forgives her husband not after he completes the dare, but after she finds out that he, not the doctor who she had been flirting with, had footed the bill for thousands of dollars' worth of medical supplies for her mother, who is recovering from a stroke. So...moral of the story: the true way to win your wife back is not to show you love her (although that helps) but to make an outrageous financial gesture?

Regardless, it was a pretty good movie, and it had some suspenseful moments, including a rescue scene where the firefighters flirt with death as they try to remove a wrecked car from train tracks -- with the train quickly approaching -- as well as Caleb's heroic rescue of a young girl from a burning house as the structure collapses around them.

Spew...updated slightly from Facebook.


Sometimes I think things would be a lot less complicated if I could simply burst into a flaming ball of rage whenever I got angry or frustrated. No questions, no misunderstood online angst. Just a pretty self-explanatory visual. Kind of like this.
I really want to visit Boise. Two people live there whom I miss very much...they're among my closest, truest friends and it sucks that the time we had together over break was so short. If I had money and a way to get there and if time wasn't an object, I would be there tonight. Never mind how I generally feel about Greyhound buses, particularly being on them for more than the hour and a half between Woodburn and Eugene (with stops in Salem and Corvallis.)

Right now I'm taking Philosophy 170: Love and Sex, and based solely on what happened in the first lecture I can tell that this is going to be an emotionally trying experience for me. Mostly because I already have rock solid views on love and sex that became more clear during the past eight months -- and to that specific person who will likely not care enough to read this, I still think you're a jerk for what you did to me as well as the manner in which you did so -- and which basically consist of the following. Sex is something that I would reserve for marriage if I had any hope of ever being emotionally close to anyone in that way again. And love...just won't happen to me. I'm fairly confident in that assertion.

After thinking about it, I guess that's because I have ridiculously high standards on what I feel a relationship should be. Personally I don't want to waste my time on anything that doesn't seem like it has potential for long-term success. The fewer heartbreaks, the better. So clearly this means I'm old fashioned and have zero chance of finding anyone, let alone reproducing. Oh well. I'm still sticking to my beliefs.

I know it's bad to hate people, but I just can't bring myself to feel anything else but resentment and hatred toward the evil jerk who broke my heart last summer. Yes, it was more than eight months ago, which many people have argued is more than enough time to get over it. Well, I'm still trying to get over it, and having a bit of a rough time doing so. What's even more hurtful is that many of the people who said they'd always be around for me -- aka my best friends in the whole wide world who love and care about me and only want the best for me -- have left me. Luckily I do have a handful of real friends. You know who you are, and I love you guys. To the others: You know who you are, and I'll keep what you've done in mind when you're going through times of trouble.

I was thinking earlier today how sweet it would be to burn some sort of effigy to commemorate the fact that I'm trying to move on and leave the past in the past. However, I'm not sure how to go about doing so in a way that's legal -- i.e. finding a location that allows open fires.

I have one week remaining in my Mountain Dew fast. Once it's over though, I may not be so quick to revert back to my trend of at least one beverage a day consisting of Dew. I've found during the past 33 days that other drinks, such as cream soda, Sunkist and -- gasp -- milk? actually taste pretty good and are just as satisfying as Dew if I give them half a chance. I will not, however, go so far as to completely give it up. I need to get energy somehow during my potential summer job and during marching band season... :)

I have a new black friend. Her name is Tami. She cost $2.99 at Goodwill. One of these days, I'm going to take her bowling!
I've decided Pluto is my planet buddy. We're both tiny, lonely and misunderstood by a lot of people.
I love ballroom dance! We learned how to waltz yesterday. Because I have amazing friends like Claire, Bess, Jeff, Melissa and Andrew, I already had some waltzing experience -- including Jeff's and my experiment with waltzing in 4/4 time. I just wish I had more opportunities...

After an agonizing two-week thought process, I have decided to forgo campus band indefinitely. Apparently I'm still having issues with certain people...we get along, but for some reason I'm still not completely comfortable going back. Maybe because Ashley and I haven't actually seen each other in person since The Incident.

I really miss Alitia, and I will forever regret that the last couple of months she was in Eugene...weren't the best. Oh well. At least she seems happy to be back home in Central Point, and at least while she's there she can do what she needs to do to be able to come back (work full time and get a little bit more money behind her.) P.S. The angel you made me is hanging on the wall above my bed. I look at it every night and think about you. It sounds cheesy, but I'm not even joking.

I really need to stop buying so much food and start cooking what I have. However, I usually remember this when I have to be on campus for an hour in between classes -- enough time so I need to grab something to eat, but not enough to run home and grab something quick, let alone cook anything.

I'm a little afraid of J 203.

I'm a little more afraid of my PHIL 170 GTF.