It's all in how you slice it.

Where to begin? I supposed the most logical choice would be with my appendix. I had to have my appendix removed about a week ago. It all started around Saturday at midnight-ish. I woke up with a frightful hunger, after deciding on a small bowl of cereal I learned that food made me nauseous. I passed it off as being incredibly tired, weeks piled on top of weeks with only a maximum of five hours per night will do that to a person. I went back to bed and immediately felt like I was going to vomit everywhere, and I sure did.

Of course, I passed the vomit off as something else too--it's what I do to avoid the hospital. I figured the pizza I had earlier that day came in some form of contact with meat. As the hours dreaded along, my nausea wasn't decreasing, and a pain in my stomach was greatly increasing. After about nine hours of vomiting and 2-3 hours of an immense pain in my right side, I decided it was time to look up the symptoms for "appendicitis." Off hand I say I had about 70-80 percent of the symptoms, I asked my roommate to drive me to the hospital. I am fortunate enough to have sweethearts (not matter how much shit I give them) for roommates this summer. Not only did she drive me to the hospital; she sat with me all freaking day in the emergency AND followed me to the actual hospital just so I wouldn't have to be alone.

My mom flipped out and drove up to see, which I will admit was nice. I've decided that it really doesn't matter how old you are, the second you get sick all you want is your mommy and daddy. Well, actually, my mom didn't drive--her friend Andrews drove because my mom had my old VW (another story, wait for it) and couldn't drive it up. Again, my family is blessed by having such incredible caring people around them.

As for now, I have my check up first thing tomorrow morning. I'm not in any pain at all, my wounds just itch until the World's end and pester me when I'm in my work clothes. The only down side is that I will not have a scar, freaking modern technology.

Instead of the old fashioned appendectomy, the doctors have three incisions. The first one is through the belly button, where they put a hose to suck the appendix out once it's removed from the body. The other two are tunnels for the lasers to cut the appendix. The whole fun of going into surgery is having a scar afterward. My incision points will probably leave a faint scar, but nothing impressive.

As for Eloise, she kept getting sick and all of the repairs for VWs are astronomical. Every repair somehow ends up being around 2-3 thousand dollars. It's amazing too, especially considering the fact that the only places to work on VWs is the dealer. Oh you crazy Germans!

Anyway, we took the car to a nice shop in Roanoke and they advised us to just go ahead and sell it now, so we can get the best deal for it. So, we sold Eloise off and bought a new Subaru station wagon. I was supposed to get the car yesterday. Butttt, some stupid nitwit decided not to pay attention to the road, at all, and didn't see my mom stopped at a stop light. Needless to say, she ran into my mom and the car is now in the shop.

Again, we lucked out, the damages were only around $1000 and the insurance company is paying for all of it. The nit that hit my mom has admitted fault and claimed that the sun was in her eye, even though the sun was behind her. But that's neither here nor there, the deed is done and the car will be fixed. Most importantly, everyone involved was not injured and that's what really matters.

Man, I certainly know how to ramble a word or two. Summer school is going hectically, I missed a week of school because of my surgery and I have absolutely no idea how I am going to catch up and be comfortable in my classes. I made up my midterm today and will get the essays back tomorrow, anyone who reads this--please, please, please! cross your fingers for me. My professor hasn't decided what will happen for the quizzes with my other class. This weekend will be spent hurriedly finishing and refining any type of paper I can imagine; if they write half as quickly as this entry, I'll be set.

Now I'm just waiting for the scans on my computer to finish so I can go to bed. It's probably counter productive to have the Internet open and in constant use while I scan my computer to clean it. Well, I have to keep myself awake some how, right?

My computer is done cleaning itself and it's time for bed. I will try to remember to do an updated post tomorrow night going into more details about the appendectomy. This is, somehow, just a slight overview. Mainly, I'll go into details about the hospital and my thoughts on it.

With every hour the end is inching near...

My roommates departure is so soon that time is beginning to slow down and come to a grinding halt. She's not the worst roommate, but she sure as hell isn't the best. It's like she doesn't think about anything, she eats in here all the time, leaves her dirty nasty plates in here for days, wakes me up almost everyday. If I'm not woken up, she disturbs my sleep greatly. I haven't had a good nights sleep since I've been here this semester.

I don't know what it is, she wasn't this bad last semester...or else she didn't bother me as much last semester. Oh well. All I have to do is make it until 3:15 p.m. Tuesday afternoon and if the freaking RA is a minute late, I'm going to make her pay.

Other than that, my exams have been going well. I really cannot express how excited I am for my surroundings to be changing (ever so slightly) in the next week or so. I feel like I've been living in a heavily oppressive environment for the past two semester. It's seriously hindering my creativity and overall happiness. Hopefully the upcoming change will be a good one for me.

In other news, has anyone noticed how beautiful the sunsets have been the past two days? For the second day in a row now I have not been able to stop walking around the circle after my evening workout because I can't pull myself away from the setting sun. Especially around Lot L, it's gorgeous. I wish I could live in those moments forever. I also settled it with myself tonight that I am going to live in California at some point and Montana.

Actually, what I think I am going to do is make a list of all of the places with the most beautiful sunsets and travel and see them. If I plan enough in advance, then I will go camping too and see the sun rises. I need to wake up in time to see a good sunrise, I have never really done that. But I tell you, nothing beats waking up early morning after a night of camping to a gorgeous sunrise in the woods.

I'm beginning to think that there is something seriously different about me this week. More and more frequently I am noticing guys checking me out, or waving at me as they walk by. I hate keeping my blinds closed (probably the most oppressive thing about living in this dung hole) and I keep them open as often as I can, but when I do people always comment on them. I hear "OMG like, if I, like, live on the first floor, like, I would never, like, keep my blinds open." OR I get the ever increasingly popular slow walk stare from guys, and the slow "Oh shit, she sees me" wave from when the realize it is in fact a two way window.

Don't people understand that humans crave the outdoors and fresh air? And most importantly, something more than just cinder blocks covered by obnoxious posters. Instead of the beautiful tapestries, yet another oppression. I miss my tapestries incredibly. They are beautiful and I cannot wait until they will be hung again. Hopefully my RA this summer will overlook my tapestries. Hell, who am I kidding. We have had the worst luck with RAs and RDs actually enforcing the rules these past two semesters.

I have been eating a lot of organic granola bars and breakfast bars, I've also been trying a lot more organic foods lately. Wegmans has this really cool wall of organic granola bars, where you can buy one instead of a whole box, so I tried a fruit and nut bar from Cliff. It was the weirdest thing, I couldn't eat it. It was cinnamon pecan, but it smelled almost exactly like my dad did. I have absolutely no memory of my dad wearing cologne or anything other than speed stick deodorant. And he always smelled of Captain Black tobacco.

It always makes me smile when I find things that remind me of him, especially when there is little to no connection between the item and him. It's also funny how those things just sneak their way into my life and how the thing I hated most about him (smoking) become the first thing I miss about him.

And I've just realized how incredibly random this post is. To my loyal readers, my apologies. Ogre! It was great hearing from you, I hope you are doing well.

A Hokie Nation...

I'm sure everyone has heard of the Virginia Tech Massacre. Thankfully, everyone I know at Tech is safe and sound. I hope all the injured will recover and find peace. I hope all the friends and family of the dead will find peace as well.

One girl's mom was on the news tonight, she was talking about how her daughter would return to Tech. According to her mom, the daughter said that the fight to recovery is not over until she goes back to Tech and graduates. It's fairly impressive in my opinion.

I am still in a bit of disbelief about the whole ordeal, but more noticeably I'm angry. I'm slightly angry at Tech for not informing their students more quickly, but I understand that it's a large school (one of the largest schools in Virginia), and that it would be hard for them to inform the entire student body. Especially with a great portion of the student body living off campus.

I also understand that the police, campus officials, and everyone involved thought the first shootings were isolated--they honestly had no reason to think otherwise. And I can understand that the same people would want more answers on the first shootings before announcing it. But, I think the students deserved to know what was happening, especially since it was that grave of an issue.

But honestly, what's making me the angriest of all is the reaction; but most notably Facebook. Yes, I will admit that I was attached to my Facebook and the Internet when I first heard about the incident. Once I knew that everyone I knew was safe and unharmed, again I cannot express how thankful I am for that, I stepped back.

Out of respect for those that I did not know, I have expressed my grief and sorrow for their fates and stepped back. The last thing the wounded, their friends and families, the dead, and their friends and families need right now is a billion and one people grieving over their son or daughter when those grievers did not know the son or daughter.

I don't even want to sign onto Facebook right now because I don't want to be bombarded with groups asking me to express my prayers, sorrow, or concern for Tech. I joined the first group that asked me, and for me that is enough. I am subtle in my grief, see it for what you may. But I have always felt that there is an incredible amount of honesty with subtlety.

If it were me, I'd be annoyed. If it were my friend, I'd be pissed. If it was my brother or sister, I'd feel a range of emotions; from pissed to the need to protect to who knows. And I don't even want to know what I would feel if it were my son or daughter.

Someone anonymously carved an incredibly sweet epitaph in the tree for one of the dead. I think what makes it so incredible is the anonymity. That way only the dead, the carver, and--possibly--those who know the carver know who said it and the connection between the dead and the carver. But yet, everyone can know how incredible of a person the dead was, and in a way--through his friends and family--will continue to be.

On the other hand, as an aspiring journalist, I'm torn. What do journalists do? The names of the dead should be released so anyone who knew them will know what happened. The same goes for the injured list. But where is the line? Everyone gets an obituary, does that negate the publicity these obits are getting? Technically, the journalists are just doing their jobs and reporting the news. But at what point does the news stop and the dramatization begin? When is it too much.

All I know, is that journalists publish things to please the media and the readers. The media are incredibly demanding and critical of journalists. I'd say about 70 percent of the media are demanding the press to publish 100 percent of the information, no if-ands-or-buts. While the other 30 percent are scrutinizing the media for doing just that. There is honestly no middle ground.

I'm going to end this here because I feel I could force this discussion into 50 different lights and fields, but it'll all come down to the same question. "How much is too much?"

Again, and most importantly, my heart goes out to the injured, the dead, and their families and friends. May all of the injured recover quickly and fully. And everyone find peace within this terrifyingly chaotic tragedy.

And to those who knew people who died--please remember, and trust me on this, that people only truly die after you have forgotten them. It'll be hard at first, but keep on to those memories; both good and bad. Because in no time--or so it will seem once you get there--you'll be able to laugh and make snide inside jokes about the person. And for a moment, a glimpse in time, that person will still be alive.

Also, you never know when you'll be scared out of your mind about moving forward in life and suddenly be bombarded by their memory. Be it a familiar scent, a hang out spot, a drink, or maybe you said something they would say (for those who have friends that verbally slip up from time to time)--then you'll find strength to move forward in life. Keep them in your heart, and they will live forever.

Sitting in class...

Every time I hear the phrase "sitting in class" my mind automatically zooms back to when my oldest brother was in high school and he made up a little lymeric, or rap about sitting in class with gas from the cafeteria food.

Sitting in class
Got a tingling in my ass,
Run to the bathroom to pass some gas.
Sitting, shitting.

Etc, etc. It's a pretty disgusting rap, but it's comical and in good spirits.

jfklasdfj!!!

Dude, where's my brain?

Spring break just ended with a harsh slam of reality in my face. I have less time than I would prefer to have to unpack and do homework. My homework for my documentary class would not be as obnoxious if there was just a way to make it shorter. No matter what, I know I will spend at least 1.5 hours of my time doing the homework. The plus side to the homework is that the documentaries are really freaking awesome.

OK, I gotta get the ball rolling, so here is the express summary of my Spring Break:
1) The Sweet Pea is way too big, but also incredibly adorable and smart.
2) The Dork is popular at school and started playing T-ball. He's number two because he's in the shit. He also looses teeth like nobody's business.
3) I didn't see the Elfling, but I hear he is doing well and such.
4) I didn't get to hike as much as I would have thought.
5) I spent two hours intensively washing and scrubbing my car, only to have it downpour for the next two days.
6) Harrisonburg. Where to begin, my bruises, my memories--or lack there of. To sum it up, I am retiring my green bracelet on a good note.

OK. I am off to unpack and then to watch "Hoop Dreams."
If someone finds my brain, can you please return it? I'm scattered and sore. Tonight will probably suck.

13 hours and 56 minutes and counting

That is how long I have to last until it's time to PARTAYYYYYYYY, Spring Break style. Woo. I decided that sleep was useless seeing as I have class in less than 4 hours.

I have a paper due at noon and a midterm at 1:30. This week has been pretty nice to me, so I am not too worried. I aced my last English paper, which I thought I did horribly, shows how reliable a writer is of their own work. I am confident in the paper I just wrote (and posted on my literary blog), so that probably means it's a piece of shit. Oh well, thus is the life of me.

I remember last semester I wrote this in class essay and I thought, "Wow, I feel good about that" and my teacher wrote something along the lines of, "I'm confused by your point, re-write for credit." I got a B+ on my re-write.

Man, I loathe Thursdays. But I love John Frusciante, those thoughts aren't connected at all. Well in a way they are, my iTunes loves me and just put on his song "Going Inside," it's gorgeous. Download it, love it, worship it.

Sometimes it sickens me that great people, such as John Frusciante, aren't as remembered as Anthony Keidis. Don't get me wrong, I love Anthony as well, a whole lot too. It's just there is so much raw and unbridled talent within John, it's gorgeous. His work is remarkable.

And then there are times when I think that it's because John isn't as well known, or as remembered as Anthony that he's able to create such great pieces of work.

Then other times I think that all I do is think myself into many a circles, it's the life of a Libra. OK, who's caught on to the fact that I am just typing everything that comes into my head. I wonder if I only have my John Frusciante songs playing because the third John Frusciante song in a row just started, I bet I do. A lot of times I accidentally click on one artist and I sit here listening and jamming out to it before I realize.

OK, I'll save all of your eyes. Bye!

EDIT: If XS reads this, can you please tell me how you did that really cool thing with the links to the right of your blog? I think I am blogger LD, I can never figure out how to do anything with this thing.

OK. I need to find something to keep me awake. This probably sounds really nerdy, but I think I take notes in class because I like to write the date. I don't know why, but that's always my favorite part about taking notes and sometimes I could careless about the notes I took. Rather than the fact that it would be a complete waste of paper.

Unless, of course, I wrote the date all over the paper. I'd be like the crazy version of those crazy girls (heh, what?) from high school that worshiped Boy Band Carbon Copies. They would write Mrs. Mindless Carbon Copy with hearts all over their papers. Maybe high school was a stretch, I'd say middle school.

I think I am the only girl I know that didn't have a Hanson phase, is that weird? They just creeped me out. Actually, all the boy bands creep me out.

And seriously, I think my book is better than this and it doesn't make people's eyes bleed.

spring break!!!!!!!

OK. the official countdown begins now, Tuesday (ish, I guess) and I have three days and counting until I am free. FREE. Kind of sort of. I have a ton of homework to do over break, but Roanoke is mostly boring.

Oh, I heard back from the music magazine today (for those who even knew I applied) and the editor said, "you definitely grasp the type of professionalism, yet personable touch we look for." Yea, that definitely made my day pretty freaking awesome.

Now I just have to fill out three extensive forms and I am one step closer to my poor, busy, chaotic life of being a journalist. Woo.

So my spring break plans are as follows (and in importance):
1. Hike as often as possible.
2. Camp out as often as possible.
3. Complete homework before coming back to school.
4. Give Ernest Hemingway a chance. My friend Joe and I have had an on going battle between Henry James and Hemingway. He promised to give James a fighting chance, but only if I promised to give Hemingway a fighting chance. Oh, how I wish to cast a farewell to "A Farewell to Arms." Who knows, maybe I will like Hemingway this time around. I don't know.

OK. I do believe it's bed time.