" /> Blue Roses: August 2004 Archives

« July 2004 | Main | September 2004 »

August 26, 2004

at school

Well, I'm at my first day of classes. One down, one to go.

Got here at 12, bought my book and parking permit. Went to class. Felt very stupid in the pretest, although yay! Still remembered IPA language. I always enjoyed that aspect.

Went to the business office. Cried when they informed me that I owed $2500 today, which I most certainly do not have. Called mom, who called them, and now I don't owe it until next Wednesday. Which is still scary, but less so.

Now waiting for my next class, which is at 6:30. Ugh. So much downtime. Yay for computer labs, though. It's kept me occupied.

Tonight I need to fill out FAFSA and get that in so I can take out a loan.

This is all such a nuisance. I haven't stopped twitching my shoulder all day. I can't even say, "I can't wait to get home," because tonight is going to be hell filling all this crap out.

Not a good start to something I was reluctant about anyway.

August 18, 2004

my guy

Well, couldn't let today go without a post. Two years ago, my Po died. I remember it all still pretty clearly - it was early, had just gotten out of Damien's bed and my cell rang. And I knew exactly what the call would be. I remember telling MA, posting here, seeing a lucy!fic, being late to work, walking to work in the rain. All of it.

I was cleaning out my closet today and found old old pics of me and Po, from when I was just a little toddler. He had the hugest smile on his face. I also found his old caps. When he came to visit, he'd always tease me and put his hat on my head.

What I wrote here two years ago ended up being his euology. I think it's one of the best things I've ever written. But then again, I had a great subject.

Love you, Po. Miss you a lot. Hope you're having a good time up there with your parents, Elvis, and good food. {{HUGS}}

So in March of 1936, this boy was born. And he was pretty cool. But what was even cooler was that he was going to grow up and become my grandfather. Not by blood, you understand - he was going to enter the picture long after my mom was born, and he wasn't going to enter in the best possible of ways. But by the time I showed up, for better or worse, he had been there for awhile. And we looked into each other's eyes, me all of a few hours old, and we thought, "Hey, I like this person. I think I'll keep them around." And we did. For 21 years, we kept each other around, and it was great. There was this bond that neither of us had with anyone else, that we did have with each other, and we knew it. We cherished it. He was my guy. He always will be.

Po was in a coma. Highly unusual for cancer patients, because it meant they were hanging on so desperately hard. But between 3:30 and 4 this morning, he came out of it. Mom was on night duty, remember. He responded to touch. He lifted his head to see my grandmother better. He actually *swallowed, something he hasn't done in months and months, maybe a year. He had the energy to cough. It was like his body was resting while in this coma so he could properly say goodbye. They listened to Elvis spirituals on cassette. Big lover of the King, you know. And he wasn't exactly talking. But you could see his mouth moving, see that he thought he could be heard, see the intonations. And mostly was he said I was "I love you" to my grandmother. But every time the tape side would end, it would make a clicking noise, and he'd teasingly remind my mother to flip the tape over. It became a little joke with them, she said.

They watched the sunrise together. Mom said it was a spectacular one. Even workers at the hospital came in to watch, before their shifts started. Mom kept saying things like "moments of grace."

He waited until Grammy went into the bathroom. Mom saw and called her back. Grammy was by his side when he passed, at about 7:25 this morning. Daddy called me about 5 minutes later.

It doesn't seem real yet. I'll be typing this, and the oddest bits will get me crying. Like Elvis. Made. Me. Bawl. And the time. The time got me crying. Not the words that he passed. But the time. Makes it more real, I guess.

So, a boy was born in 1936. And he died in 2002. But in between, he did some amazing things. And I will always love him. Because he is my guy.

August 12, 2004

cold weather baby

It's August, I have the window open, and I'm wearing track pants, my beloved Titanic sweatshirt and woolen socks. I'm also reading "Christmas with Anne," a collection of LM Montgomery's Christmas stories. Thankfully, Christmas music is not yet in rotation. But dude! It's in the 50s. It will come.

Mailed off my deposit for grad school today. It was, uh, not my finest ten minutes. Oh, well, luckily did not run into anyone I knew on the way to the post office. And at Starbucks, the sweet guy smiled at me and told dad, hours later, what time he had seen me. That made me laugh.

I'm in love with Jamie Cullum's voice. I wish an nsyncer would put out a jazz album. And by nsyncer, I mean JC, who would rock it beautifully. Or Joey, who has the best voice. Or Chris, who put the most amazing spin on things. Maybe Lance, with the soothing bass. But mostly JC and Joey and Chris.

I found an nsync/Harry Potter crossover. Slytherin Lance, Ravenclaw Chris, Gryffindor JC and Justin, Hufflepuff Joey. Loved it.

I feel all cuddly. I need happy fic.

August 11, 2004

decision made...for now

The temperature has actually dropped since I woke an hour and a half ago. It's now 63 degrees. In August. In Chicago.

I quit my job on Monday. Took the place with the grad school. I'm still applying to library school for summer, however, to see if that becomes an option. And if it does, then perhaps I can change into that field.

Dinner out tonight. I'm crossing my fingers they have ostrich again. If not, perhaps I shall get venison again. That was quite delicious.

August? Summer? Any time you wish to come back and grace us with at least 80 or 85 degree temps, feel free. Really.

August 04, 2004

grad schools

Oh, my.

This morning, the phone rang. The caller ID stated the name of a professor at one of the universities I applied to for speech graduate program. I knew. I knew, and started screeching, "NO!" waving my hands wildly, trying to tell my mother that I wasn't here, don't give me that damn phone, thank you very much.

This was the school where I took a class last fall. Where I knew professors personally, and two of my three letters of rec came from professors of their school. One, in fact, came from the man who called today, who taught that class I took. I was turned down in May.

Then came today. When mom handed me the phone, he and I made brief small talk and he came to the point of the call: someone dropped out of the program, my name was at the top of the waiting list, and the spot is mine if I desire. I have seven days to decide.

I've been investigating library science programs. Last night, I chose continuing education classes to take this fall, and planned an intro to library class to take in the winter. I have a job; the kid knows I'm working with her, the mom knows, the teacher knows, the principal knows, the board knows. I know. I'm very excited about this job. I can't have my job and this program.

Everyone's telling me to take the place. Everyone assumes that this is what I worked for and what I want so I should take it. I'm less confident, and my confidence is being further rattled by the fact that I'm in a minority of one in not jumping at this.

I put speech behind me months ago. I moved on. No one else did, it seems. And now it's here again and I don't know what to do with it. Saying no would be taking a great deal of power and firmly making the choice to put this very big part of my life behind me and tell everyone they were wrong about how they look at me and that's very scary. What if I say no, and nothing else works out? Then I've screwed myself over because I didn't choose something that everyone SAID was the right choice, and what kind of idiot am I? But what if this is my chance to put this behind me, realize that a grad school in my field asked me to join them, so of course a library grad school would do the same thing.

Do I go for the sure thing (speech, bizarrely enough, after all this time) or do I wait and try for something different? Something that maybe I will want to spend the rest of my life perfecting? Do I stay with the old and familiar, or push myself out there to try something new?

I had everything planned out. I was going to work with my girl this year, enter a grad program next year, work in libraries for a number of years and then maybe get a degree in teaching. And now everything is shot to hell and I don't know what to do and I feel like no matter what I do I'll disappoint someone and I'm going to start crying now.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Grad schools suck.

August 01, 2004

trip through my mind

Bored bored bored. I am very bored.

I'm waiting for the Discovery Channel's new special on Christopher Columbus and his exhumed body. It looks utterly fascinating.

I wonder what tonight's TCM silent movie is. HEY! There isn't one! What's the deal with that? Ugh. I know it's the month of stars, but I thought they'd still keep the silents on. : ( None this month, though.

We're going to Six Flags Great America next week. (For JC and Gillian's birthdays ;)) I'm looking now to see if they still have Twickets. I'm not seeing any, rats. (Where you get a discounted price on second day tickets.) It only comes up for Magic Mountain. But, if you buy online and print at home, you get $7 off. That's a great deal, what with no lines to get in, then.

Mom found an SLP program online. I'll look into it, but I already feel like I put that chapter of my life behind me.

Did I ever mention that I'm giving a presentation at one of the leading AAC "what an odd extension on their url">national conferences? They accepted me a few weeks ago; it's in Minneapolis in October. Go, me.

Harold the fly keeps dive bombing my face. Please stop it, Harold.

Where, oh where, has my Weather Pixie gone?

Went to Border's today. Bought a book called Tinder Box, on the 1903 Chicago Iroquois Theater Disaster, and Family Trust, by the author of Legally Blonde. I think both look like a great deal of fun.

Suppose I should go look at the NOVA program now. And, perhaps, play Sims.