I moved out today. I packed up shop in good ol 714 and am on my way out of SF. I'm also crying. Today ended my first year of college. Freshman year went by faster than anything I've ever experienced and it's absolutely sureal. I left behind a dirty dorm room, a great view, quite the sleeping arangement, an empty closet and an incredible room mate.
The one thing I was the most scared about when I was getting ready to leave for school was my roommate. Who she would be, how she would act, if she would judge me, and would we be able to get along and relate to one another. After a couple NOVEL emails and random phone calls, I slowly began to get to know my room mate. She had played basketball, was the girl who did everything, and was also a workaholic. She had quite the family history and an even better sense of humor. In short, she was me with diet coke instead of chocolate milk, The View instead of the Office, and designer jeans instead of a longboard. She was unlike anything I had ever seen, and I know I'm only feeding the fire of confidence that rages inside of her.
As we began to get to know eachother, we became more than good friends. We had only lived together a couple months and already we were more comfortable around each other than people who had known each other for years. She didn't care about my mess, in fact hers was usually bigger. She didn't care about my bad jokes, her stories were longer and much more random. Lastly, she didn't judge me.
Really, theres nothing else I can say. She was the best thing that could have happened to me freshman year on so many levels. It's so hard to leave her behind and know that even though I'm sure we'll keep in touch, we may never wake up in the same bed, share shower flops, buy each other diet cokes, facebook stalk together, actually stalk together, or share the memories we made this year again. And that hurts.
I didn't think I would cry when I left. But Karls was somethign else.
So long SF, I'll see you soon.
Karls, love you baby. Make it a blast, you always do.
much love
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Ahhhh the strep...how I've missed thee
So yesterday (monday) I woke up with a soar throat. No biggie I thought, I was stressed from finals, was working out a lot to train for Leah's triathlon and wasn't getting a lot of sleep. So it was all to be expected. I went through the day feeling rather crappy, just in a general state of crapiness. Then I went to my drawing class that goes from 7-10. Around 8:30 it hits me.
When I was younger I used to get strep throat allllllll the. When I was a baby it was ear infections...but as I grew older, for some reason my body loooooved the strep throat slash hated it with every fiber of it's being. A big chuck of my childhood memories are waking up in the middle of the night with all the tell tale signs that strep was in and ready to reek havoc. My dad would take me to the ER, greet the nurses with a familiar hello, and get me a popsicle. Of course my temperature would be soaring, sweat would be dripping and I would be freezing. One throat swab later I was curled up in the front seat of my dad's car with a hefty portion of penicillin and another popsicle. Thus was beginning of my age old battle with strep throat.
I have only been really sick once since I've been here and as I've grown older my strep pattern has slowed to about once a year. Well in drawing, my time had come. Within 10 minutes I had a fever, chills that could shake the building and aches and pains like no other. 10:00 finally rolled around and I called my dad only to hear the same old "get to the hospital and get some meds...now" So I did.
Of course the ER, which was the only thing open, has a priority policy. I understand. And of course, they guarantee a nurse will see you within 30 minutes so you think they're speedy quick. Then you get to wait for ANOTHER three hours until the doctor gets around to seeing you. The nurses were not friendly, and the doctor really didn't seem to care. He woke me up from the hour long nap I was taking waiting for him, felt my throat, talked really fast, and only another hour later I got a prescription for Tylenol codeine and penicillin. With a fever of 102 they offered public safety to drive my miserable self back to my dorm where I climbed into bed shaking and chilled to endure the long night of hallucinogenic dreams and severe changes of boy temperature.
This morning I woke up to an even bigger headache and the knowledge that I had to walk to lucky's to get the meds. Peeling myself out of bed in a pool of sweat I clothed myself to the max and made the miserable trek to the store. When I got there I out the order in and went to collect all the necessary items I knew would aid in my recovery: popsicles, orange juice, and gatorade. As I was more or less stumbling down the aisles i began to feel...queezy. I didn't usually throw up when I had strep, so I didn't really know how to handle the feeling. So i began to mozy toward the bathroom in case something were to erupt from deep within me. I began to walk faster. It was coming and i was almost there.......missed it. As i turned my head toward the nearest garbage can I could find, I vomited. And not before I reached the can. So here I was, in the middle of the local grocery store throwing up what little there was in my belly. With much embarrassment I cleaned up what I had left on the floor and added one more thing to my list: 7-up.
And so here I am. In the heat of finals and miserably ill. I don't even want to think about the catch up I'll have to play to get back in shape for the triathlon. Oh, well, for now it's just popsicles and orange juice.
much love
When I was younger I used to get strep throat allllllll the. When I was a baby it was ear infections...but as I grew older, for some reason my body loooooved the strep throat slash hated it with every fiber of it's being. A big chuck of my childhood memories are waking up in the middle of the night with all the tell tale signs that strep was in and ready to reek havoc. My dad would take me to the ER, greet the nurses with a familiar hello, and get me a popsicle. Of course my temperature would be soaring, sweat would be dripping and I would be freezing. One throat swab later I was curled up in the front seat of my dad's car with a hefty portion of penicillin and another popsicle. Thus was beginning of my age old battle with strep throat.
I have only been really sick once since I've been here and as I've grown older my strep pattern has slowed to about once a year. Well in drawing, my time had come. Within 10 minutes I had a fever, chills that could shake the building and aches and pains like no other. 10:00 finally rolled around and I called my dad only to hear the same old "get to the hospital and get some meds...now" So I did.
Of course the ER, which was the only thing open, has a priority policy. I understand. And of course, they guarantee a nurse will see you within 30 minutes so you think they're speedy quick. Then you get to wait for ANOTHER three hours until the doctor gets around to seeing you. The nurses were not friendly, and the doctor really didn't seem to care. He woke me up from the hour long nap I was taking waiting for him, felt my throat, talked really fast, and only another hour later I got a prescription for Tylenol codeine and penicillin. With a fever of 102 they offered public safety to drive my miserable self back to my dorm where I climbed into bed shaking and chilled to endure the long night of hallucinogenic dreams and severe changes of boy temperature.
This morning I woke up to an even bigger headache and the knowledge that I had to walk to lucky's to get the meds. Peeling myself out of bed in a pool of sweat I clothed myself to the max and made the miserable trek to the store. When I got there I out the order in and went to collect all the necessary items I knew would aid in my recovery: popsicles, orange juice, and gatorade. As I was more or less stumbling down the aisles i began to feel...queezy. I didn't usually throw up when I had strep, so I didn't really know how to handle the feeling. So i began to mozy toward the bathroom in case something were to erupt from deep within me. I began to walk faster. It was coming and i was almost there.......missed it. As i turned my head toward the nearest garbage can I could find, I vomited. And not before I reached the can. So here I was, in the middle of the local grocery store throwing up what little there was in my belly. With much embarrassment I cleaned up what I had left on the floor and added one more thing to my list: 7-up.
And so here I am. In the heat of finals and miserably ill. I don't even want to think about the catch up I'll have to play to get back in shape for the triathlon. Oh, well, for now it's just popsicles and orange juice.
much love
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Home
I know I should be reading. Not blogging. But there are some subjects that interest me a little more than what Paul Bradshaw has to say about prayer in the Patristic Era. So here I am.
The subject for tonight's procratination: HOME. Good ol Yakima, My dad, my brothers playing music, my baby sister giggling, my crazy mom being crazy. All of it. I just really miss it sometimes. At school it's weird becasue I have things for myself. Like I can buy food that only I will eat where as if I bring food home in yakima, itll be gone before it gets tot he kitchen. I was on the phone with peter a while back and it was about the time mary adn george got home from school and soon enough it was on speaker and it was like I was home with them, with peter making his random and under-his-breath jokes that make everyone pee their pants, George and his observations that make everyone stop. turn. look. question. and shake their heads all the while him saying "...what?" and mary. little miss mary just laughing laughing laughing at everything thats going on. I miss family dinners and dads oke of the day from work . him laughing harder at the punch line than anyone else, but a polite ha ha to satisfy him :)
Hmmmmmmmm...home
much love
Rugby and the lifestyle that developed
Last thursday night was the end of the year rugby banquet for the mens and womens rugby teams. So after long weeks of stressful outfit planning and date scheming the big night arrived. the mens team, being many years our senior, built the banquet up all season saying plainly and genuinely that it was just a lot of fun. Yes, I had facebook researched it and after a few online pics, my excitement rose and rose and spilled over into a blood red, tight fitted, strapless dress and black high heels.
The night began with hasty preparation and quick last minute up-do's but once we arrived at the quaint and classly Bocce Cafe it was obvious we had a good night ahead of us. Dinner was wonderful and of course the people were even better. Awards were given out for best forwards, backs, MVPs and other serious matters. There were speeches from the mens and womens side and songs sung one last time. It was a night of classy rugby debauchery. at its best.
After a night like this I though for a long time about the people i had met, befriended and experiences due to the one of a kind sport and lifestyle that is rugby. I remember the first mens game i went to and the shock i felt each time the men dropped their shorts to change into their gear. the fact that they ewre really focused on the beverages they would be consuming after the game rather than the hydration im sure they needed during the game.
I feel like i need to note the amazing people that make up the mens team. Although i am wholly and completely dedicated to the womens team and all that we've accomplished, it wouldt be anything if the guys hadnt taken us in. They made room for us to travel to their games adn taught us during their practices when it was obvious they had precious little time to prepare for thier own games. There was no ego. Only rugby. I learned the sport through experience. too many times the mens coach Otto would throw me in a drill adn yell instructions in what was then a foriegn language. btu i learned the game and i loved every second of it.
When Lori began to coach us she said rugby was a drug, that once you started you would be hooked for life. It's so true. What i learned about rugby that made me fall in love with it is that there is no ego. The men and women work hard so that on saturday they can rail the opposition and play the game they love. there are no stats or averages considered. The whole atmospheere is feulled by a pure love for the sport.
Im not sure what it is about the sport that makes it so intoxicating. you hit and you get hit but that isnt the focus. there is so much going on and its all so fast and all you have time to think about is how badly you dont want your teammate to get buried in a mound of 300 lb islanders. I dont knw how to describe it. It's hard work and passion and adreneline running and ruling you for 80 minutes.
The culture and the atmosphere of the whole thing is another wonderful aspect. After the game the home team hosts a social in which the opposing team joins for of the field interaction. this is the part of the sport that i really feel sets it apart. everything is left on the field and both teams join in a celebration acknowledging their love for the game. There is food, drink , and song and its ALWAYS a good time. there are no hard feelings, only rugby.
The season is over and the mens seniors are graduating. there is a summer coming up that will be spent bulking up for another rough and tumble season that i CANNOT wait for. To the men's team i want to say thank you. you opened up a door for me that has changed my life and that will be a part of me forever. to everyone else hug a rugger ;)
much love
The night began with hasty preparation and quick last minute up-do's but once we arrived at the quaint and classly Bocce Cafe it was obvious we had a good night ahead of us. Dinner was wonderful and of course the people were even better. Awards were given out for best forwards, backs, MVPs and other serious matters. There were speeches from the mens and womens side and songs sung one last time. It was a night of classy rugby debauchery. at its best.
After a night like this I though for a long time about the people i had met, befriended and experiences due to the one of a kind sport and lifestyle that is rugby. I remember the first mens game i went to and the shock i felt each time the men dropped their shorts to change into their gear. the fact that they ewre really focused on the beverages they would be consuming after the game rather than the hydration im sure they needed during the game.
I feel like i need to note the amazing people that make up the mens team. Although i am wholly and completely dedicated to the womens team and all that we've accomplished, it wouldt be anything if the guys hadnt taken us in. They made room for us to travel to their games adn taught us during their practices when it was obvious they had precious little time to prepare for thier own games. There was no ego. Only rugby. I learned the sport through experience. too many times the mens coach Otto would throw me in a drill adn yell instructions in what was then a foriegn language. btu i learned the game and i loved every second of it.
When Lori began to coach us she said rugby was a drug, that once you started you would be hooked for life. It's so true. What i learned about rugby that made me fall in love with it is that there is no ego. The men and women work hard so that on saturday they can rail the opposition and play the game they love. there are no stats or averages considered. The whole atmospheere is feulled by a pure love for the sport.
Im not sure what it is about the sport that makes it so intoxicating. you hit and you get hit but that isnt the focus. there is so much going on and its all so fast and all you have time to think about is how badly you dont want your teammate to get buried in a mound of 300 lb islanders. I dont knw how to describe it. It's hard work and passion and adreneline running and ruling you for 80 minutes.
The culture and the atmosphere of the whole thing is another wonderful aspect. After the game the home team hosts a social in which the opposing team joins for of the field interaction. this is the part of the sport that i really feel sets it apart. everything is left on the field and both teams join in a celebration acknowledging their love for the game. There is food, drink , and song and its ALWAYS a good time. there are no hard feelings, only rugby.
The season is over and the mens seniors are graduating. there is a summer coming up that will be spent bulking up for another rough and tumble season that i CANNOT wait for. To the men's team i want to say thank you. you opened up a door for me that has changed my life and that will be a part of me forever. to everyone else hug a rugger ;)
much love
Monday, April 21, 2008
Wavy Gravy, Free Granola, and Earth Day
So today was Earth Day and what better way to experience it than in Golden Gate Park. It was a beautiful day in SF and the wind wasn't strong enough to dampen the spirit of the day, though it was string enough to share the scnts of everything the new and old hippies were smoking.
My friend Whitney and I packed out backpacks and brought a blanket and headed to the park a couple hours after the music started. Brett Dennen was supposed to pay and since he's pretty popular we figured he'd play last and that we could take our time. No dice. we got there for the end of a bluegrass band called Yonder Mountain String Band who were AMAZING. Theres no better place to experience music than in golden gate park on a nice day. Whitney and I both had a lot of homework so we posted up in the very back behind the GIANT group of people. We layed out and just listened to the music as we did our homework and watched the people around us enjoying themselves.
The music festival was called Green Apple Festival and it was dedicated to Earth Day and solar energy and granola and Barack Obama. Sarcasm and speculation aside, it was an amazing thing to be a part of. At one point Whitney said something to the effect that she felt like she was a part of something, like the place just had a vibe that things were happeneing, that in 50 years she could tell her grandkids about the rallie/concert she went to. She was right though. Today was a day that perfectly showcased the spirit of San francisco. Things are happening.
The festival was made up of both music and speakers. There was an old hippie named Wavy Gravy who somehow got put into the program and spent the minutes that he shouldnt have been given on stage ranting about some story im sure an acid trip or two might have helped with. He talked abou this handbag that was a fish and Dave Chepelle and the greatful dead and his adventures with all three. It was NOT entertaining. in fact it was the biggest damper on the wonderful mood that was created by the music. It was wonderful to lay back and listen to musicians create something genuine and wonderful and then Wavy Gravy came on and yelled and ranted in his raspy voice about things no one laughed at. I wonder if Wavy knows what a good bathroom break he supplied for the thousands of people present. He had toured with the greatful dead and, as such, was famous. Makes sense. But really, when the 60s and 70s catch up with the guy and he croaks, I'm not sure there will be very many "NO, not WAVY!"s resonating form SF. Hippir Hill might take a beating, but I think it can do better.
After the old hippie left the stage the music went on and the day continued. Afterwards Karly mentioned something I hadnt noticed: the number of kids present at the festival. I mena yes I can understand one wanting ones kids to grow up being exposed and perhaps cultured, but stoned? Whether you liked it or not, you had to accept that the majority of the people around you were smoking the proverbial reefer. BABIES? really? I mean, young teens and other kids yes i think it would be great for them to experience a day like that in the park, but babies? too far.
Oh San Francisco.
So happy Earth Day everyone. stay fresh, stay clean, stay green!
much love
My friend Whitney and I packed out backpacks and brought a blanket and headed to the park a couple hours after the music started. Brett Dennen was supposed to pay and since he's pretty popular we figured he'd play last and that we could take our time. No dice. we got there for the end of a bluegrass band called Yonder Mountain String Band who were AMAZING. Theres no better place to experience music than in golden gate park on a nice day. Whitney and I both had a lot of homework so we posted up in the very back behind the GIANT group of people. We layed out and just listened to the music as we did our homework and watched the people around us enjoying themselves.
The music festival was called Green Apple Festival and it was dedicated to Earth Day and solar energy and granola and Barack Obama. Sarcasm and speculation aside, it was an amazing thing to be a part of. At one point Whitney said something to the effect that she felt like she was a part of something, like the place just had a vibe that things were happeneing, that in 50 years she could tell her grandkids about the rallie/concert she went to. She was right though. Today was a day that perfectly showcased the spirit of San francisco. Things are happening.
The festival was made up of both music and speakers. There was an old hippie named Wavy Gravy who somehow got put into the program and spent the minutes that he shouldnt have been given on stage ranting about some story im sure an acid trip or two might have helped with. He talked abou this handbag that was a fish and Dave Chepelle and the greatful dead and his adventures with all three. It was NOT entertaining. in fact it was the biggest damper on the wonderful mood that was created by the music. It was wonderful to lay back and listen to musicians create something genuine and wonderful and then Wavy Gravy came on and yelled and ranted in his raspy voice about things no one laughed at. I wonder if Wavy knows what a good bathroom break he supplied for the thousands of people present. He had toured with the greatful dead and, as such, was famous. Makes sense. But really, when the 60s and 70s catch up with the guy and he croaks, I'm not sure there will be very many "NO, not WAVY!"s resonating form SF. Hippir Hill might take a beating, but I think it can do better.
After the old hippie left the stage the music went on and the day continued. Afterwards Karly mentioned something I hadnt noticed: the number of kids present at the festival. I mena yes I can understand one wanting ones kids to grow up being exposed and perhaps cultured, but stoned? Whether you liked it or not, you had to accept that the majority of the people around you were smoking the proverbial reefer. BABIES? really? I mean, young teens and other kids yes i think it would be great for them to experience a day like that in the park, but babies? too far.
Oh San Francisco.
So happy Earth Day everyone. stay fresh, stay clean, stay green!
much love
Thursday, April 17, 2008
No time for roses
"stop and smell the roses"
Its getting to be the end of the semester and this one is turning out to be much more stressful than last semester. I know I've been complaining abou this a lot but it's scary. In the rush of finals and the time consumption of work and the desire for more rugby and the NEED for sleep I have found that the roses have remained oderless.
It's stange to think that one school year has almost come to an end when I feel like I just got here. I don't feel like I should be ending my first year of college, or even like I should be in college at all really. I still think back to my youth when I would think about high school students and how I couldnt WAIT for the day when I could be one of those girls. When college came up I just though of old people. boring libraries and quiet studying. I know thats not what college is really like and I know its much more youthful than my pre-teen self liked to think. However, I still feel like I'm out of place in the college scene...like I have to act older and more mature...
What I'm trying to lead up to, and not doing a very good job at, is that this year has come and gone with so much in tow that I have just been trying to keep my head above water and now that I'm getting the hang of it (or not) I'm scared I missed something. I spent/spend so much time being busy with work or school or rugby that I dont have time to slow down. It scares me that in the last year I dont think of new friends and new places. When I think back the first thing that comes to mind is GOD that was hard! Of course I have had a lot of fun, I just feel like when I was having fun I didnt stop to appreciate it as much as I should have.
much love
Its getting to be the end of the semester and this one is turning out to be much more stressful than last semester. I know I've been complaining abou this a lot but it's scary. In the rush of finals and the time consumption of work and the desire for more rugby and the NEED for sleep I have found that the roses have remained oderless.
It's stange to think that one school year has almost come to an end when I feel like I just got here. I don't feel like I should be ending my first year of college, or even like I should be in college at all really. I still think back to my youth when I would think about high school students and how I couldnt WAIT for the day when I could be one of those girls. When college came up I just though of old people. boring libraries and quiet studying. I know thats not what college is really like and I know its much more youthful than my pre-teen self liked to think. However, I still feel like I'm out of place in the college scene...like I have to act older and more mature...
What I'm trying to lead up to, and not doing a very good job at, is that this year has come and gone with so much in tow that I have just been trying to keep my head above water and now that I'm getting the hang of it (or not) I'm scared I missed something. I spent/spend so much time being busy with work or school or rugby that I dont have time to slow down. It scares me that in the last year I dont think of new friends and new places. When I think back the first thing that comes to mind is GOD that was hard! Of course I have had a lot of fun, I just feel like when I was having fun I didnt stop to appreciate it as much as I should have.
much love
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