One Jessie Dead On The Floor

I've had a pretty busy couple of days. Saturday until Sunday afternoon, my godmom was throwing up for 18 hours. Then we called 911, and they took her to the hospital 12 hours in the ER (4:30pm - 4:30am) and she was diagnosed with having gallstones. That means she has to be admitted. That means I can't leave the hospital until 6am. I have class at 3:30. Surgery was talked about, and they said they'd call to let me know when. I got a whopping 2 hours sleep that night (because that's SO good for the diabetic. Really.) I was getting ready to hit the road to see her when they call at 1. Surgery's at 3. That's right. Two hours notice. I send off emails to my profs, saying I'm sorry, but a family emergency came up and I need to be there since I'm the power of attorney.

Turns out she had rotten gallstones. Bladder's gone completely. So that's out. Her surgeon was the same one that worked on my diabetic abscess about four years ago. And oddly enough, he remembered me. Well, it's not every day you work on a 22 year old's ass in the child's section because you can't wait to hit the OR. Just saying. Anyway, so she wakes up, and my mom mom and I are waiting for her. Mom Mom's been there since I was. She stuck around and was more than a little awesome.

When the anathesia was wearing off, combined with the morphine, was a funny thing to witness. You'll be glad to know the nurses all wanted to kill her. So while I went to catch me some real food (I had eaten pretty much entirely cafeteria food the day before and it wasn't settling well) and do some errands around the hospital, she sat with her. Apparently they had a good time, which is good like you wouldn't believe. I hate it when they bitch each other out. Mom mom really stepped up and did what she was supposed to. I appreciated it.

Mama came home Tuesday, thank goodness. See, I had midterms Wednesday and Thursday. So I was glad. Only, I show up to both my classes Wednesday, and guess what...there's a test! In each one! Ones I hadn't even tried to study for. Wasn't that fabulous? I know, it was so thrilling to know. I'm just hoping I passed them. Okay, let's back up a bit. I didn't know I was going to have the tests, since my teachers had it on the list but as of last week, hadn't even made a peep about them. Fail, teachers, fail. Actually, double fail, since they never emailed me back. Thanks assholes. Because I clearly needed to worry about if I was going to be okay, or not, in class.

Let's hope I passed, but I doubt I did the math one. That's why I need reviews. Stupid fucking teachers. Stop being lazy damn it. Learn your courses, and know how to read the schedule you created. Ugh. Anyway, so I took the tests.

And today my history wasn't talking about it, but he was talking about early Christianity, since we were discussing Rome. You know, call me kooky, but I don't think it's good to put people on the spot like that. Just saying. And I took my Religions midterm. I'm hoping I passed it. I really, really do. I think I got all of the multiple choice right, and maybe partially on the essay, so that should be totally passing. Dunno the percentage of that one. Oh, that's right. 25% of my grade. Yeah, exactly.

Tomorrow I get to go do errands and next week? I totally get the opportunity to read like three books on American Muslim women, watch Little Buddha for Religion. I need to type up my history notes too. And all this while taking care of my godmom post-surgery and do some errands with her. I'm going to be very tired between doing everything. Not to mention figuring out what the hell I'm supposed to be doing with my history paper due on March 20th. Which is like the week after spring break is over. Again. Worst group. Ever. Though, my ass has an A in the class, so you know, I'll be charitable.

Someone wanna give me like a bottle of vodka and OJ, so I can pretend the week won't happen.

Now I go off to bed so I can do some homework this weekend. Reading a lot of books man. I have to write a note page on it for class. Well, one of them anyway, since it's a source notepage. This man is not normal. I'm just saying.

Politics and Gender: The Blown Up Recipe

Ironic, really, that I've never noticed the misogynist slant of the media until a woman ran for President. Personally, as a woman, I don't believe anything that comes from EITHER candidates mouth. I did vote for Clinton, though. Because, silly me, at least I'm realistic enough to believe that Obama is too green, too fevered, too ambitious to actually do any good. Do I think Hillary would best? Absolutely not. Do I think she'd better than her opponent? Absolutely. This will be my third election to vote in, and I've missed *one* primary. I've made all the other ones. Even the crappy local ones. And I have to go across the county to do it since I'm registered at my father's house.

I'm not new to this idea of voting. I did not fall off the turnip truck. But for some reason, it seems like the media will pick up and slam a woman harder than a man, no matter if it's a presidency primary or a schoolteacher.

For once, outside speaking about Bush's rule, I'm ashamed to be American. Because if you're a female, you better prepared to be scrutinized down to the number of dogh airs on your suit, and if you're male, well you're lauded. At least in this race. More's the pity, too.

Instead of looking for things to attack because nothing else is available, how about you find something REAL to complain about? Something that's not over words, but actions?

Hey, America, here's an idea: grow the fuck up, get over your goddamn iPods, and figure out a way to repair what's messed up for everyone in the next four years. And, please, for the love of God, stop fanpoodling! This is not the cute boy next to you in chemistry, or the hottie from the latest string of movies. It is not that light-hearted. Look, assholes, I hate to say this, but it needs to be said: the next four years depends on more than "he looks good in a suit!" or "she's got that cool school marm thing going on." Seriously. Just shut the fuck up, and start paying attention.

Comments off this post because I try my damnest to avoid politics in this blog. Mostly because it's a hot button issue and I'm not going to argue, since compromises never arises from discussion of it. But I'm so damn tired of reading everything being against one candidate because she's female. And before you ask, just click on most articles and read them, and see that any action she takes is being held against some god-like standard, while he's gotten more people spouting off about him because he's young. Guess what, everyone was young once and youth rarely leads to extensive helpful experience.

I've never thought of myself as some disadvantaged. I've been raised not to. After all, I'm not in a racial minority. Except looking around, it's been depressing as hell to notice that for all the strives my foremothers have made, I'm still not quite equal. And sometimes I wonder if I ever will be. History sure as shit is showing it's unlikely. After all, how often has Aristotle been quoted about women, and how often has it been implemented? Too many to count. And that's a crying shame. Aristotle's the man that created some of the very foundations we still use today. So how far have we really come in giving the other 50% the rights they deserve in the same way the other 50% does by luck?

(The quote, for those that are unaware goes like this: "A woman is, at it were, an infertile male. She is female in fact on account of a kind of inadequacy." There is also one on marriage that again places the wife in a very low position. "The association between husband and wife is clearly an aristocracy. The man rules by virtue of merit, and in the sphere that is his by right; but he hands over to his wife such matters as are suitable for her.")

Hot damn

CBT demo.

(I'll explain the rest of my weekend later.)

Random fact of the day

Before I was diagnosed with diabetes, I was scared shitless of thunderstorms. I don't mean little rainy ones, but like the rolling thunder and lightning strikes half a mile way types. And I will curl under the covers in my bed, with a book, pretending it's not happening to this day. That's my version of what I did when little, and used to hide in the closet. In our old trailer, I had built a specific place in all my junk to protect me from the scary stuff, and I could give a sliver of light from the opening sliding closet door to read with. Every house had a safe place in the closet for me, no matter how cluttered or disorganized it was. This is the first place to my knowledge that doesn't have one.

I also slept in closets when scared or really upset until I was about 20-21. If I was panicking, or felt like I needed to be protected, I would sleep in them, no matter the size. Tubs, too. What's funny is usually don't like tight spaces, but sometimes they made me feel better.

I kind of which I still did that. I miss feeling safe.

And I'm still half-scared of the dark. I always have a low reading lamp type deal on at night. Even at 26.

This Ain't Mayberry

Why is it that romance novels, the cheesy Harlequin kind that I adore for so many brain-light reasons, make me think about who and what I am?

I was reading one of them, that I have to take back to the library later in the afternoon, and I started to analyze myself. Which is not unusual, by the way. The only rule I truly have about myself is this: don't lie or sugarcoat about myself. I don't. I've seen that done all around me, because of the people around me, and it doesn't end pretty. That's probably why I'm harsher on myself than anyone I've ever known has been or could be.

Anyway, I'm babbling. So, I got to thinking about it and I realized that I'm another paradox, or whatever you call a person. Ya see, I'm a optimistic realist. Yeah, think about that for a minute. Here's the breakdown, though: I know I can't singlehandedly change the world. It's just not possible and never will be. Because the world is made up of far too many fractions, societies, geographical regions. You name it and it'll end up as a problem. But I can change the world around me. So I'm pretty damn cynical about those in charge of changing the world, mostly because they're only human like the rest of us, so they're looking out for them because no one else will. It is the law of the land. Forget that other crap. It's look out for your own ass, or no one else will. Hey, I had to learn something growing up, didn't I?

But the thing is, I think I can change and make my world better. It might take a couple decades, or most of my life, but it is possible. My world, the one that is cool enough to center around me, is changeable. That's the optimistic part. My life may royally suck 99% of the time, but that one percent exists and I can use it change some of the other, make it suck a little less. That's another thing I learned growing up.

I'm telling you, I was the wisest ten-year-old anyone had ever seen. Which is scary when you consider it. I didn't have much of a childhood. I had moments, but it wasn't exactly the Cleavers. Actually, scratch that. Those people scared me. It was more like Roseanne meets Jeff Foxworthy meets Grace Under Pressure meets Married with Children. Tell me that's not a weird group. So, I'm saying that I started out with the wisdom I've seen 40 something year olds lack because it becomes ingrained to absorb and internalize common occurrences, and the only people that survive learn from all experiences. Which explains my crazy ass weirdness. Also why I forget that I'm 26 and regress to somewhere around 16 at times. Sometimes I wish I could take back some of those experiences that I skipped over because I had to be the little adult that could.

I just thought it was funny to realize I'm the only optimistic realist I know. The world, the all encompassing one, is a grey block of junk, but I can at least put a little color and light into mine. And for me, it works out well.

Dun Dun Dun.

I voted earlier. Of course I did. I may be cynical about the political system, but my family has the saying of "you don't vote, you can't bitch" and damn it, how can you not bitch about the political system. I got up extra early (read: before noon), went and voted, had an hour to kill so I enjoyed my lunch before heading to school extra early (read: 1.5 hours). I got a lot done.

So after history, my group is going to the library, right? And dude, just dude. I'm the only one that's done any research. Our presentation? Due on Thursday. I was so damn pissed. But! I was done so they got to research while I relished in watching them figure out how when I already had. Go me, go me. Of course, I think they're using Wiki, so you know, I worry about my grade. However, whatever dude. I did it. That's all I give a flying shit about. They have to put the presentation together anyway.

Now, I go to bed. Since mama's sick, she finally decided she's had enough of the plague and tomorrow I'm going to try and get her a doc appointment. She can't even sit up without dying of coughs. So you know. Then I go to class. Go me.

Before I head to bed, I need to finish out my chapter of Night Season. I should be reading my Sociology book, but damn that thing is boring. Tomorrow I finally figure out what I made on the test last Monday, too. Oh! And we watched the video about KoKo the other day. I already knew just about everything. I love getting the chance to be smug. ;)

Run By Posting

Good:
I passed my math test with a 90. Not bad for me. Woohoo. Must find out Socio test grade. Skipped Wednesday. Vomiting snot will do that to a person. Also am on antibiotics so I'm not death warmed over. More like death slightly reheated.

Bad:
I'm on antibiotics. In case you're wondering why that's on twice, it's because they make me feel like my insides are trying to crawl out of my skin. It's a tad...different. My mom's sick, though. I'm playing her nursemaid now. Not too bad, really.

Ugly:
My stupid history team! Seriously, people, it cannot be that hard to clarify what you mean when you give me a freaking subtopic: "changes in Japanese-Chinese writing until 1500." Yes, because that's helpful! I have no info for them, even though they have mine. Grah. WTF, people? Contact information is essential when the presentation due Feb 7th is 20% of our grade. I want at least a B damn it. THREE hours looking for books in the Georgia university library system, and most of them aren't at my campus. I kinda hate these people now.

Also, I have to read at least 59 pages in Socio by Monday. Read 20 pages for Religion by Tuesday. Make up a stupid brief summary thing using the Chicago style - which, let's side bar and ask who the everloving crap uses that style exactly? And how do you make it function?! - about a book I haven't read yet because the library just got it. So you know, I'll be perusing Google and looking to see what the book is about. Yeah. Dude. I also have to read about 20-30 pages for History for our regular classes and make a freaking summary for extra credit, but I might skip it. Because fuck it, my plate is full.

All that by Tuesday for the most part. Good lord almighty.

I haven't read up on everyone's posts, but I hope Sue's mom is fine, and that everything turns out awesome for the family. Excuse me, I need to go read a ton of work now. I'll be back when the world starts spinning on it's southeastern axis that hasn't been discovered yet.

But! Before I go, I need to do a quick little woohoo for a writer. I've been really impressed with her work, and you'll see the name attached to my sidebar of websites. Eileen Wilks is on Kelley Armstrong level with me. Which, is like, I don't know walking up with the writer gods in my estimation. She's just that good. I could see the worlds meshing in some in-between alt world and working. Because the writing is that detailed and just. Grah. Awesome. Eileen writes werewolves, which, YAY, because I'm not a big vampire fan. I love werewolves more. And she's such a nice writer. She's not pretentious on the 'net, very down to earth and pays attention to what the readers say. That's a very good gift to give readers, because it makes them want to read and absorb everything said. I have Night Season sitting on my nightstand to read Thursday night. Even if it's gonna kill me to wait that long. Just. Yes.