I have to say, when I saw that one of the prompt ideas on the class blog was writing about your relationship "to a body part" I got... unnecessarily excited? I don't know, I just pictured myself writing a hilarious entry, going something along these lines:
"So, my right elbow and I really have a good thing going. I mean, it may not seem like a super important body part, but, oh - it is. For example, just today, I was taking notes during a discussion in my biology lab when my chin just decided it was really tired and needed a rest. My right elbow, being the helpful little elbow that it is, jumped right in and propped up the right arm and hand, which aided the tired chin and allowed me to continue taking notes with my left hand. This may not seem like much, but really, that elbow was making an important sacrifice - I mean, would you want to spend time face-to-face with a smelly, probably formaldehyde and god-knows-what-else covered lab table? My chin certainly didn't! Right elbow stepped in, valiantly ameliorating the situation without complaint, or even an expectation of being thanked. Well, it's your time, right elbow - this post is dedicated to YOU!"
...Let's be honest. I had way more fun writing that just now than any sane person probably should. But it is the end of a very long Wednesday (as Wednesdays somehow always are) and I think I'm a little over my limit of handling things like a normal person. (LT and I were def just being kind of weird at the end of Candidate's Forum tonight and we got ourselves a few quality strange looks.)
But really, what I started thinking about (in all seriousness, I swear) is how I don't really fully appreciate my body parts until something feels wrong, or they don't do exactly what I want them to. It's not like I wake up every morning and take inventory: "Wow, hey, my right arm feels awesome. So does my left. And my left leg is still there, right (ha) where I left it last night - cool." But I do notice when, say, my jaw hurts after connecting splendidly with my coach's elbow during practice, or when my shins start to tingle after running up all four flights of stairs to my room for the umpteenth time, or when my poor asthmatic lungs have just had it with the allergens in the air or the sprints I'm running at practice, or when my head is aching because I haven't slept enough or I'm hella stressed out.
And then there's that magical moment - when, after icing for a while, my jaw feels normal suddenly, or I get to stop at the top of the stairs (finally!) and my shins get to relax, or when I get to stop running and suddenly my chest opens up and I can breathe again, or when I finally give in and take some Advil or get some sleep and my head goes back to just being a normal head, and not a stressed out, throbbing mess. I kind of love that feeling of relief. When suddenly I am no longer distracted by my discomfort; I am in awe of my body's ability to bounce back and get itself back to normal, often without huge effort on my part. But it is only those brief moments when I truly appreciate my body and how much... well, power it has over me.
I dunno. I guess what I'm saying is that I should really be more aware of my body, and be thankful when I wake up every morning that it is still intact, that I can still use every bit of it properly and that nothing feels wrong in any way. Life can change in an instant, I know. I'm worried that some day, I'll look back on this time that I had to take my body for granted and wish that I had it back.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
my teammates
Here are the facts about Saturday's rugby game:
- We played TCNJ (The College of New Jersey)
- We tied 10-10
- It was a good game of rugby, on both sides, by all accounts
Now, here is the stuff that is really worthy of a blog post:
- We were missing HALF of our usual starting A-side players
- Some of the players that were there were playing injured
- A lot of us were in positions we were mostly (if not completely) unfamiliar with
- We played together for the entire game, and by all accounts, have a lot to be proud of
I feel a bit awkward writing this post, because I'm a part of the team that I'm praising so highly and I don't mean to sound self-gratifying or [insert a better antonym of "self-deprecating" if you have one, because I am just having a really tough time with this one tonight]. But I really mean this post to be more about them than about me, even though I'm the one writing it. I'm going to start with my part in it, because it's probably a pretty good reflection of how off-balance everything was for everyone. And besides, it is the part I know best.
To start with, it's just been crazy lately with the number of injuries we've been having. One of our captains shattered a finger and had to have surgery on Thursday. Other teammates have been out with concussions, one bruised bone and various muscular injuries. This week in particular, we were low on attendance at practice, and a freak number of people had to go away for the weekend on family obligations, etc. At total count, we were missing half of our usual starting players.
For my part, I was going to be filling in for the tight-head prop (don't worry about what this means - unless you know rugby, it is probably not important to you), and during the week (and especially during Friday's practice) that was what I was preparing for - both in terms of positioning (in the scrum, especially) and mentally. There were some rough spots, but after spending basically the entirety of Friday afternoon working on things, I thought we were set. I was still really nervous and having a hard time forcing down my dinner as I thought about the next day. I contemplated texting JW, since it was her old position I was to be playing the next day.
Then, casually, a teammate makes a remark about me playing eight. (Again, don't worry - just know that this is definitely NOT the same thing as a prop.) I literally turned my whole body to face her, practically yelled "WAIT, WHAT!?" and hit the table. Then, she explained calmly that our coach had changed his mind after practice ended and I had left with some other teammates for dinner.
I... kind of lost it a little? I guess I've been more stressed out this week than I thought, because (embarrassingly) I just started crying right there at the table. It hadn't been an easy practice anyway, taking on an important position that I haven't really played much before, and having to be corrected on practically every move I made. Obviously I knew that people were helping me and I definitely kept asking for feedback - but it was still just a little overwhelming sometimes, and the only way I could take the change was: "You still weren't good enough, after all of that."
Within seconds, I was surrounded by various teammates, telling me that it would be ok. NK, who usually plays tight-head prop but was out with a concussion and is sort of acting captain, had talked to our coach, and wanted me at eight instead of prop because I had more experience than one of the freshmen (that they planned to switch to loose-head prop, and then switch the other prop to tight-head - even though I was playing it because she wasn't as comfortable there). "It has nothing to do with anything you did," they assured me. "But you need to stop worrying about it and just get out there and do it tomorrow." I pulled it together, and just tried not to think about it. I hung out with a few of them for a few hours afterward, and went to bed early that night.
The next day at breakfast, I had to force down some more food as our captain came over and sat down across from me with a peculiar look on her face. I didn't want to acknowledge that something was probably up... but as we were walking to get more food/drinks, she pulled me aside and said, "So, you know that __ isn't coming today, right?" This time, I managed not to have any kind of violent reaction as I turned to her and said, in the calmest possible tone "Nope. Had no idea." She gave me an apologetic smile. "Yeah, well. Now you know?" I managed a grin back, and asked what this meant for me - since I figured she wasn't just telling me separately for the hell of it. I was right - I was being switched (again) to second row.
It gets more complicated from there, but all you really need to know is that I was switched back to eight to start the game, and that I did, at one point, play second row for a brief interlude when someone was taken out and then put back in. I think things went ok, generally. Am I spectacular at the position? Of course not - it's why someone else usually plays it. But I did the absolute best I could, which was what was needed from me, given the situation.
Still, despite the fact that we were missing so many people, despite the injuries, despite the uncertainty and anxiety that came with the fact that we usually beat this team but were pretty sure we were set up to lose the match -- we played really well. Within the first few minutes (on one of the first plays) our hooker (yeah, I guess you can laugh - but that's a position, I swear... I can't make this stuff up!), LT, scored a try - her first. It was really great, because not only is she one of the most fantastic people I know, but I think that our coach sometimes undervalues her - and it was just great to see her do something so incredibly awesome when we really needed it. That really helped us begin the match on a good note and she set the tone for the rest of the game.
MA is another person that I'm super proud of. She's a freshman and it was her first game starting; she was playing loose-head prop. I have to admit, I may have a little bit of selfish pride because she was one of my hellees, but it is agreed on a number of accounts that she has SO MUCH potential. (Also, she's one of the sweetest, kindest and generally best people ever.) It's still her first year, and she's gotten so much better and only continues to improve - and she played REALLY WELL the entire game. She got hurt a few times, and kept coming back in - she's just such a champ.
LB was the sophomore switched to tight-head, and even though she wasn't as comfortable there, has asthma like I do and wasn't enjoying the terribly cold air we had that day, she was also just really awesome.
AO and LA were playing injured and as many times as our coach kept trying to pull them when they were really hurting, they kept insisting that they were fine and making some phenomenal plays. They're both also great people, and their spirit throughout the game was really encouraging. A couple of times, I would look at them as we were preparing for a play and think "It doesn't even matter how tired I am. They're hurt and they keep playing. I'm going to keep doing my best to support them and the rest of my team." (Admittedly, it was probably not that coherent in my head at the time, but that was the general gist of how I felt.)
I also definitely saw our scrum half, AS, make some pretty hard contact with the ground - and jump up and continue playing. At one point, I was scared that she was down for good. And then she got up, as usual. I swear, she's practically unstoppable under most circumstances, but we really needed her and she more than delivered for this game.
EG is a fantastic captain and player, and as always was really great at motivating us to keep going. She was (as I keep saying of everyone, but it's really true) just especially great during this game and we really needed her talking us through it to get where we did.
These are just a few people that I'm highlighting, but it took the ENTIRE team to play that game as well as we did. I was so proud of the freshmen and rookies for stepping in to positions that they were also unfamiliar with (and not making a scene like some of us... cue sheepishness) and just doing a fantastic job. They weren't afraid to get in there and play the game, which is what this sport is really about.
I also have to say that TCNJ is a great team to play. They are quality people, both on the pitch and off. Their captain is a particularly gracious, wonderful person and I just really enjoy their entire team.
To summarize my feelings on the entire matter: we just didn't quit, we played together, we played for each other and it was probably my favorite game this year.
I love rugby.
- We played TCNJ (The College of New Jersey)
- We tied 10-10
- It was a good game of rugby, on both sides, by all accounts
Now, here is the stuff that is really worthy of a blog post:
- We were missing HALF of our usual starting A-side players
- Some of the players that were there were playing injured
- A lot of us were in positions we were mostly (if not completely) unfamiliar with
- We played together for the entire game, and by all accounts, have a lot to be proud of
I feel a bit awkward writing this post, because I'm a part of the team that I'm praising so highly and I don't mean to sound self-gratifying or [insert a better antonym of "self-deprecating" if you have one, because I am just having a really tough time with this one tonight]. But I really mean this post to be more about them than about me, even though I'm the one writing it. I'm going to start with my part in it, because it's probably a pretty good reflection of how off-balance everything was for everyone. And besides, it is the part I know best.
To start with, it's just been crazy lately with the number of injuries we've been having. One of our captains shattered a finger and had to have surgery on Thursday. Other teammates have been out with concussions, one bruised bone and various muscular injuries. This week in particular, we were low on attendance at practice, and a freak number of people had to go away for the weekend on family obligations, etc. At total count, we were missing half of our usual starting players.
For my part, I was going to be filling in for the tight-head prop (don't worry about what this means - unless you know rugby, it is probably not important to you), and during the week (and especially during Friday's practice) that was what I was preparing for - both in terms of positioning (in the scrum, especially) and mentally. There were some rough spots, but after spending basically the entirety of Friday afternoon working on things, I thought we were set. I was still really nervous and having a hard time forcing down my dinner as I thought about the next day. I contemplated texting JW, since it was her old position I was to be playing the next day.
Then, casually, a teammate makes a remark about me playing eight. (Again, don't worry - just know that this is definitely NOT the same thing as a prop.) I literally turned my whole body to face her, practically yelled "WAIT, WHAT!?" and hit the table. Then, she explained calmly that our coach had changed his mind after practice ended and I had left with some other teammates for dinner.
I... kind of lost it a little? I guess I've been more stressed out this week than I thought, because (embarrassingly) I just started crying right there at the table. It hadn't been an easy practice anyway, taking on an important position that I haven't really played much before, and having to be corrected on practically every move I made. Obviously I knew that people were helping me and I definitely kept asking for feedback - but it was still just a little overwhelming sometimes, and the only way I could take the change was: "You still weren't good enough, after all of that."
Within seconds, I was surrounded by various teammates, telling me that it would be ok. NK, who usually plays tight-head prop but was out with a concussion and is sort of acting captain, had talked to our coach, and wanted me at eight instead of prop because I had more experience than one of the freshmen (that they planned to switch to loose-head prop, and then switch the other prop to tight-head - even though I was playing it because she wasn't as comfortable there). "It has nothing to do with anything you did," they assured me. "But you need to stop worrying about it and just get out there and do it tomorrow." I pulled it together, and just tried not to think about it. I hung out with a few of them for a few hours afterward, and went to bed early that night.
The next day at breakfast, I had to force down some more food as our captain came over and sat down across from me with a peculiar look on her face. I didn't want to acknowledge that something was probably up... but as we were walking to get more food/drinks, she pulled me aside and said, "So, you know that __ isn't coming today, right?" This time, I managed not to have any kind of violent reaction as I turned to her and said, in the calmest possible tone "Nope. Had no idea." She gave me an apologetic smile. "Yeah, well. Now you know?" I managed a grin back, and asked what this meant for me - since I figured she wasn't just telling me separately for the hell of it. I was right - I was being switched (again) to second row.
It gets more complicated from there, but all you really need to know is that I was switched back to eight to start the game, and that I did, at one point, play second row for a brief interlude when someone was taken out and then put back in. I think things went ok, generally. Am I spectacular at the position? Of course not - it's why someone else usually plays it. But I did the absolute best I could, which was what was needed from me, given the situation.
Still, despite the fact that we were missing so many people, despite the injuries, despite the uncertainty and anxiety that came with the fact that we usually beat this team but were pretty sure we were set up to lose the match -- we played really well. Within the first few minutes (on one of the first plays) our hooker (yeah, I guess you can laugh - but that's a position, I swear... I can't make this stuff up!), LT, scored a try - her first. It was really great, because not only is she one of the most fantastic people I know, but I think that our coach sometimes undervalues her - and it was just great to see her do something so incredibly awesome when we really needed it. That really helped us begin the match on a good note and she set the tone for the rest of the game.
MA is another person that I'm super proud of. She's a freshman and it was her first game starting; she was playing loose-head prop. I have to admit, I may have a little bit of selfish pride because she was one of my hellees, but it is agreed on a number of accounts that she has SO MUCH potential. (Also, she's one of the sweetest, kindest and generally best people ever.) It's still her first year, and she's gotten so much better and only continues to improve - and she played REALLY WELL the entire game. She got hurt a few times, and kept coming back in - she's just such a champ.
LB was the sophomore switched to tight-head, and even though she wasn't as comfortable there, has asthma like I do and wasn't enjoying the terribly cold air we had that day, she was also just really awesome.
AO and LA were playing injured and as many times as our coach kept trying to pull them when they were really hurting, they kept insisting that they were fine and making some phenomenal plays. They're both also great people, and their spirit throughout the game was really encouraging. A couple of times, I would look at them as we were preparing for a play and think "It doesn't even matter how tired I am. They're hurt and they keep playing. I'm going to keep doing my best to support them and the rest of my team." (Admittedly, it was probably not that coherent in my head at the time, but that was the general gist of how I felt.)
I also definitely saw our scrum half, AS, make some pretty hard contact with the ground - and jump up and continue playing. At one point, I was scared that she was down for good. And then she got up, as usual. I swear, she's practically unstoppable under most circumstances, but we really needed her and she more than delivered for this game.
EG is a fantastic captain and player, and as always was really great at motivating us to keep going. She was (as I keep saying of everyone, but it's really true) just especially great during this game and we really needed her talking us through it to get where we did.
These are just a few people that I'm highlighting, but it took the ENTIRE team to play that game as well as we did. I was so proud of the freshmen and rookies for stepping in to positions that they were also unfamiliar with (and not making a scene like some of us... cue sheepishness) and just doing a fantastic job. They weren't afraid to get in there and play the game, which is what this sport is really about.
I also have to say that TCNJ is a great team to play. They are quality people, both on the pitch and off. Their captain is a particularly gracious, wonderful person and I just really enjoy their entire team.
To summarize my feelings on the entire matter: we just didn't quit, we played together, we played for each other and it was probably my favorite game this year.
I love rugby.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
writer's block
Perhaps I should be surprised that this hasn't happened sooner... but I am actually pretty flummoxed that I don't have anything to write about for today.
In light of full disclosure, I have to say that I wrote an entire blog post this weekend... and then decided not to post it. I don't really have a super concrete reason for this, except that maybe it just felt too personal in some respects, or went into things that I just didn't think people would really care to know. Since that night, I've opened this blog several times with the intent of writing. I've even jotted possible topic ideas in the margins of notes I'm taking for other classes.
Still...
Weirdly I've got nothing for tonight. (And considering that I am one of the most over-articulating people I know and am usually pretty down for talking about myself... this might be nearly impressive.)
I'm going to list the things I thought about writing about, for lack of anything better to do. (And who knows, maybe I'll find my way back into a mindset for writing about them some other time.)
- Originating from talking about Addams in class, I was thinking about the fact that sometimes all I feel like I do (in class, in my life, etc.) is talk about abstract ideas and concepts that are, admittedly fascinating and stimulating as conversation topics... but then they never go anywhere. This could be a super interesting post in the hands of another, I'm sure. But I've been in a pretty perpetually shitty mood all week, and this is an excerpt of what I would probably end up sounding like for 1,000 plus words:
"Honestly, I'm getting really sick of all of this discussion and no action. I want to go out into the world and start being a real human being - I'm tired of being stuck in this college and talking about things that either don't actually matter, or do matter but can't actually change. I just want to drop out of college with HT and be a zookeeper!"
And then by the end of the post, embarrassingly, I'd realize that, um, it's MY fault for picking majors and classes that lend themselves to this kind of discussion and if I want to go and change things so badly, why don't I just go out and do it? (In a way hopefully more productive and feasible than dropping out of Bryn Mawr.) Then, I'd end up apologizing for being whiny and annoying (yet again) and the entire thing would end on an entirely unsatisfying note.
- Different definitions of "offensive." Maybe this is just a recurring theme in my life, but I feel like I've talked with a number of different people lately about the actual process of being offended and doing the offending. A number of things that have come out of this discussion are the feelings that 1) people at Bryn Mawr are offended entirely too easily and it gets old really fast. (Actually, I think this might be untrue - I think we just criticize it because we know it and we're living it right now... also, we go to a small, liberal arts college; we knew exactly what we were getting into.) 2) Following up with this, (as a friend sitting next to me put it perfectly) "are things inherently offensive, or is it just how people choose to take them?" And then we'd get into "context," and we'd probably talk about a friend's Facebook status I saw today that highlighted something they were upset about - it linked to a blog with a bunch of quotes by this person that, thankfully, included the original sources. While I have to admit, the guy in question wasn't as pure as the driven snow, reading the quotes in context made a lot more sense - and while it didn't absolve him of all accustaions of assholery, it made a lot more sense. This post, while probably pretty interesting (and maybe I will write it eventually?) would get too long and metaphysical and really, wouldn't end up resolving anything. It would end with me saying "Well, I just don't know," and that just seems like an unproductive waste of time, re: the previous rejected topic.
- Friendship re: MZ. This was actually maybe the most tempting... but I didn't feel right poaching someone else's thought-out blog topic. Also, then we get into complicated questions of "the self" and the fact that if I were responding to another person's "self" (a liberal use of this term, in the context of our public selves and this blog, of course) would that be a true representation of my "self," or would it be too influenced by others, or has that happened already simply by being a member of this society, where we're all so connected (via social networking, etc.) and encouraged to share our feelings... And this sentence is going too far, even for me, so I'm going to just end it there and be confident in my assumption that it would again turn into one of those awful, windy blog posts that asks a lot of questions and then doesn't resolve them and is just both a pain to read and write.
I'm sorry this is an awful post (and that it's pretty obvious that I'm also in an awful mood, although I don't have a really good reason for it so I just don't know what my deal is), but I think that my grade requires that I post something...
So here it is.
(And I just wrote a ~900 blog post about absolutely nothing... all time low or kind of impressive?)
In light of full disclosure, I have to say that I wrote an entire blog post this weekend... and then decided not to post it. I don't really have a super concrete reason for this, except that maybe it just felt too personal in some respects, or went into things that I just didn't think people would really care to know. Since that night, I've opened this blog several times with the intent of writing. I've even jotted possible topic ideas in the margins of notes I'm taking for other classes.
Still...
Weirdly I've got nothing for tonight. (And considering that I am one of the most over-articulating people I know and am usually pretty down for talking about myself... this might be nearly impressive.)
I'm going to list the things I thought about writing about, for lack of anything better to do. (And who knows, maybe I'll find my way back into a mindset for writing about them some other time.)
- Originating from talking about Addams in class, I was thinking about the fact that sometimes all I feel like I do (in class, in my life, etc.) is talk about abstract ideas and concepts that are, admittedly fascinating and stimulating as conversation topics... but then they never go anywhere. This could be a super interesting post in the hands of another, I'm sure. But I've been in a pretty perpetually shitty mood all week, and this is an excerpt of what I would probably end up sounding like for 1,000 plus words:
"Honestly, I'm getting really sick of all of this discussion and no action. I want to go out into the world and start being a real human being - I'm tired of being stuck in this college and talking about things that either don't actually matter, or do matter but can't actually change. I just want to drop out of college with HT and be a zookeeper!"
And then by the end of the post, embarrassingly, I'd realize that, um, it's MY fault for picking majors and classes that lend themselves to this kind of discussion and if I want to go and change things so badly, why don't I just go out and do it? (In a way hopefully more productive and feasible than dropping out of Bryn Mawr.) Then, I'd end up apologizing for being whiny and annoying (yet again) and the entire thing would end on an entirely unsatisfying note.
- Different definitions of "offensive." Maybe this is just a recurring theme in my life, but I feel like I've talked with a number of different people lately about the actual process of being offended and doing the offending. A number of things that have come out of this discussion are the feelings that 1) people at Bryn Mawr are offended entirely too easily and it gets old really fast. (Actually, I think this might be untrue - I think we just criticize it because we know it and we're living it right now... also, we go to a small, liberal arts college; we knew exactly what we were getting into.) 2) Following up with this, (as a friend sitting next to me put it perfectly) "are things inherently offensive, or is it just how people choose to take them?" And then we'd get into "context," and we'd probably talk about a friend's Facebook status I saw today that highlighted something they were upset about - it linked to a blog with a bunch of quotes by this person that, thankfully, included the original sources. While I have to admit, the guy in question wasn't as pure as the driven snow, reading the quotes in context made a lot more sense - and while it didn't absolve him of all accustaions of assholery, it made a lot more sense. This post, while probably pretty interesting (and maybe I will write it eventually?) would get too long and metaphysical and really, wouldn't end up resolving anything. It would end with me saying "Well, I just don't know," and that just seems like an unproductive waste of time, re: the previous rejected topic.
- Friendship re: MZ. This was actually maybe the most tempting... but I didn't feel right poaching someone else's thought-out blog topic. Also, then we get into complicated questions of "the self" and the fact that if I were responding to another person's "self" (a liberal use of this term, in the context of our public selves and this blog, of course) would that be a true representation of my "self," or would it be too influenced by others, or has that happened already simply by being a member of this society, where we're all so connected (via social networking, etc.) and encouraged to share our feelings... And this sentence is going too far, even for me, so I'm going to just end it there and be confident in my assumption that it would again turn into one of those awful, windy blog posts that asks a lot of questions and then doesn't resolve them and is just both a pain to read and write.
I'm sorry this is an awful post (and that it's pretty obvious that I'm also in an awful mood, although I don't have a really good reason for it so I just don't know what my deal is), but I think that my grade requires that I post something...
So here it is.
(And I just wrote a ~900 blog post about absolutely nothing... all time low or kind of impressive?)
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
perspective change
Although I promise this is a relatively positive post, I have to get it out of the way and say, it has started out as an absolutely horrendous week.
Here's a (not-so-brief) chronicle: On Sunday night, the full impact of how much work I had neglected over Spring Break hit me full force over the head. (Literally, actually, in the form of a splitting headache that settled itself behind my right eye, and refused to give up this residence for hours, despite the usually-effective bribes of caffeine and Advil.) The whole thing is completely my fault, and I deserved the consequences - but it was nonetheless a pretty unpleasant experience. Still, I got all of my work done and I was pretty pleased with all of it, even if it took me the entire night. I slept for about an hour, woke up Monday extremely nauseous and stayed that way for the entire day, only managing to force down about half a bagel (and later a bit of pasta and some tea) with the intent of not dying at practice later that day. (Other stated goal of the day: don't throw up on anyone. Had a few close calls, may have gagged in class, but I managed to actually do that one thing right.) Practice was, in itself, an ordeal - as exciting as it was to be playing outside again after all of the snow, we were all soaked through and freezing within about 5 minutes. I collided headfirst with a teammate at one point (which may explain the extreme head and neck pain following through today?) and then we ended early when we had a few close-calls in quick succession, before someone actually got pretty hurt, which felt like a really terrible way to begin the season this weekend. It really bothers me when people around me get hurt and there is nothing I can do to help them or make things better.
I also got news of a rejection for something that, although I knew I was unlikely to get, I still really wanted. As mentally prepared for the result as I was, I was still pretty crushed by it. As often as this happens, I just keep wondering what, exactly is so wrong with me? Because It has to be me, at this point - it would be just too coincidental to keep, repeatedly not getting these things I apply for, want really badly and actually believe I would be great at. But I still haven't figured out what it is, and it's been hard to attempt an honest answer, when all of my family and friends just keep insisting that I'm fine and it's not my fault and that "sometimes things just work out that way." As much as I love them and really do appreciate their attempts to protect my feelings, this really just cannot be the case - it is too statistically improbable. I am on a mission to figure this out, although I have realized that it is basically a no-win situation. If I do succeed in finding it, I might not like what I find and it might be really hard to deal with, let alone try to fix. But if I don't succeed, I'll still be frustrated and flawed and I won't make the kind of progress I want in life.
To change direction, however (which was the original intent of this post - I swear), I think I have been spending far too much time lately dwelling on the unpleasant things that have been happening lately. It was good to whine a bit and write them down, but I'm done now. Instead, I'd like to make a list of some things that have gone well, in the hopes of re-directing my focus. (And, you know, also sounding like less of a whiner.)
1. J is ok.
My best friend from high school (one in a group of three of us) was attacked up at his college in Syracuse two weeks ago. It was completely unprovoked and also really serious - he came as close as one can get to bleeding in his brain (2 concussions inside of 2 seconds from being punched in the face and slamming his head on the pavement) without actually doing it. I cried the first time after talking to him on the phone, because he was so out of it, helpless, in pain and clearly not himself. I called him every day until he came home for his Spring Break because it was literally the only thing I could do - and, maybe a little selfishly, it reassured me that he was still ok and recovering. Luckily, he has some amazing friends at college and they really took care of him. Although recovery is going to be a little slower than he thought at first because of the severity of the injury, he is going to be 100% ok. Best sign: he had to do a big investment simulation (for the entirety of his class in business school) about a day and a half after he was attacked. Even with vision in only one high, his friends having to help him read the computer screen and heavy painkillers, he came in 3rd. I'm thinking that he's pretty amazing and that his cognitive abilities are going to be coming back just fine. He actually cried when I was on the phone about a week after the incident, after he had gone back alone to walk around in the spot where it happened. I tried to reassure him that whatever he was feeling was completely fine and that lots of emotions were normal for both this kind of situation and a concussion. "No," he told me, "It's just that, I'm so relieved." I paused and waited for him to collect himself, without any idea of how to respond to this. "As bad as it was, I think about how much worse it could have been... and with my friends up here and you guys and everything, I just have so much to be around for..." Yeah, I think I have a lot to learn from J.
2. Spent quality time with E Monday night.
After the horrendous day that was Monday, I texted a close friend and asked her to do homework with me. She understood that what I really needed was a "babysitter," to keep me awake and on track with my work. Despite the fact that neither of us was in the mood to work for various reasons, it was really great to just be with someone. We had some pretty quality witty banter and I actually got some work done - that probably would not have happened if I had stayed alone in my room. Our relationship has also just been a little difficult lately, I think with just being in completely different places as a sophomore and a senior - so it was really great to just have things get more "back to normal" with her.
3. I am becoming more pleased with the work I have been handing in.
I think I mentioned before that I've been disappointed in some of the work I've been turning in lately. I'm really making an effort to turn that around, and although my intent was to also sleep better in combination with this, I would much rather get this part on track. I also am finally really getting into the "major declaring" process, which is making me feel like I might, actually, end up as a real adult sometime in the future, with a real job and all of that. Huh.
4. Saturday is rugby day!
That is really all that needs to be said. I love this game, and I love Spring season, because it's not our "official" season (the games don't count) and will be a great chance for me to learn a lot and improve - as well as hopefully get to know the new freshmen, become closer with the other sophomores and juniors and spend some last time with the seniors as our teammates.
5. This list has helpd me refocus.
Taking a break from more "immediate" homework concerns, this blog post was a nice way to take a bit of a break, get myself together, and get ready to finish the rest of my work so that I can head to bed. It also put things in perspective, especially thinking about J's situation. As bad as things get, there is always something worse that could happen. Also important, I am aware of the problems that I've been having lately and am really working to improve myself and help things get better.
I am in control of my life; things will get better from here.
Here's a (not-so-brief) chronicle: On Sunday night, the full impact of how much work I had neglected over Spring Break hit me full force over the head. (Literally, actually, in the form of a splitting headache that settled itself behind my right eye, and refused to give up this residence for hours, despite the usually-effective bribes of caffeine and Advil.) The whole thing is completely my fault, and I deserved the consequences - but it was nonetheless a pretty unpleasant experience. Still, I got all of my work done and I was pretty pleased with all of it, even if it took me the entire night. I slept for about an hour, woke up Monday extremely nauseous and stayed that way for the entire day, only managing to force down about half a bagel (and later a bit of pasta and some tea) with the intent of not dying at practice later that day. (Other stated goal of the day: don't throw up on anyone. Had a few close calls, may have gagged in class, but I managed to actually do that one thing right.) Practice was, in itself, an ordeal - as exciting as it was to be playing outside again after all of the snow, we were all soaked through and freezing within about 5 minutes. I collided headfirst with a teammate at one point (which may explain the extreme head and neck pain following through today?) and then we ended early when we had a few close-calls in quick succession, before someone actually got pretty hurt, which felt like a really terrible way to begin the season this weekend. It really bothers me when people around me get hurt and there is nothing I can do to help them or make things better.
I also got news of a rejection for something that, although I knew I was unlikely to get, I still really wanted. As mentally prepared for the result as I was, I was still pretty crushed by it. As often as this happens, I just keep wondering what, exactly is so wrong with me? Because It has to be me, at this point - it would be just too coincidental to keep, repeatedly not getting these things I apply for, want really badly and actually believe I would be great at. But I still haven't figured out what it is, and it's been hard to attempt an honest answer, when all of my family and friends just keep insisting that I'm fine and it's not my fault and that "sometimes things just work out that way." As much as I love them and really do appreciate their attempts to protect my feelings, this really just cannot be the case - it is too statistically improbable. I am on a mission to figure this out, although I have realized that it is basically a no-win situation. If I do succeed in finding it, I might not like what I find and it might be really hard to deal with, let alone try to fix. But if I don't succeed, I'll still be frustrated and flawed and I won't make the kind of progress I want in life.
To change direction, however (which was the original intent of this post - I swear), I think I have been spending far too much time lately dwelling on the unpleasant things that have been happening lately. It was good to whine a bit and write them down, but I'm done now. Instead, I'd like to make a list of some things that have gone well, in the hopes of re-directing my focus. (And, you know, also sounding like less of a whiner.)
1. J is ok.
My best friend from high school (one in a group of three of us) was attacked up at his college in Syracuse two weeks ago. It was completely unprovoked and also really serious - he came as close as one can get to bleeding in his brain (2 concussions inside of 2 seconds from being punched in the face and slamming his head on the pavement) without actually doing it. I cried the first time after talking to him on the phone, because he was so out of it, helpless, in pain and clearly not himself. I called him every day until he came home for his Spring Break because it was literally the only thing I could do - and, maybe a little selfishly, it reassured me that he was still ok and recovering. Luckily, he has some amazing friends at college and they really took care of him. Although recovery is going to be a little slower than he thought at first because of the severity of the injury, he is going to be 100% ok. Best sign: he had to do a big investment simulation (for the entirety of his class in business school) about a day and a half after he was attacked. Even with vision in only one high, his friends having to help him read the computer screen and heavy painkillers, he came in 3rd. I'm thinking that he's pretty amazing and that his cognitive abilities are going to be coming back just fine. He actually cried when I was on the phone about a week after the incident, after he had gone back alone to walk around in the spot where it happened. I tried to reassure him that whatever he was feeling was completely fine and that lots of emotions were normal for both this kind of situation and a concussion. "No," he told me, "It's just that, I'm so relieved." I paused and waited for him to collect himself, without any idea of how to respond to this. "As bad as it was, I think about how much worse it could have been... and with my friends up here and you guys and everything, I just have so much to be around for..." Yeah, I think I have a lot to learn from J.
2. Spent quality time with E Monday night.
After the horrendous day that was Monday, I texted a close friend and asked her to do homework with me. She understood that what I really needed was a "babysitter," to keep me awake and on track with my work. Despite the fact that neither of us was in the mood to work for various reasons, it was really great to just be with someone. We had some pretty quality witty banter and I actually got some work done - that probably would not have happened if I had stayed alone in my room. Our relationship has also just been a little difficult lately, I think with just being in completely different places as a sophomore and a senior - so it was really great to just have things get more "back to normal" with her.
3. I am becoming more pleased with the work I have been handing in.
I think I mentioned before that I've been disappointed in some of the work I've been turning in lately. I'm really making an effort to turn that around, and although my intent was to also sleep better in combination with this, I would much rather get this part on track. I also am finally really getting into the "major declaring" process, which is making me feel like I might, actually, end up as a real adult sometime in the future, with a real job and all of that. Huh.
4. Saturday is rugby day!
That is really all that needs to be said. I love this game, and I love Spring season, because it's not our "official" season (the games don't count) and will be a great chance for me to learn a lot and improve - as well as hopefully get to know the new freshmen, become closer with the other sophomores and juniors and spend some last time with the seniors as our teammates.
5. This list has helpd me refocus.
Taking a break from more "immediate" homework concerns, this blog post was a nice way to take a bit of a break, get myself together, and get ready to finish the rest of my work so that I can head to bed. It also put things in perspective, especially thinking about J's situation. As bad as things get, there is always something worse that could happen. Also important, I am aware of the problems that I've been having lately and am really working to improve myself and help things get better.
I am in control of my life; things will get better from here.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
spring break
It's spring break.
I'm really enjoying not doing anything super productive, for once.
In the spirit of that.. that concludes this blog post.
I'm really enjoying not doing anything super productive, for once.
In the spirit of that.. that concludes this blog post.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
shelter stories
So, spring break is nearly upon us, and because I'm in a really good mood and in T-minus ~ 12 hours I will be away from this campus and some of the pressure will be temporarily taken off of me and I will get to just hang out with my parents and animals -- who have to love me unconditionally -- I'd like to take this opportunity to get away from talking about my "feelings," and my "life issues." I would, instead, like to talk about pitbulls.
Well, technically, I guess we're going to talk about my feelings on pitbulls, but it will be fun. I promise.
This is Emmitt. He is deaf, bowlegged and was probably abused before we got him. He has an abundance of personality, possibly more than I have seen in any other dog, in all my years at this job. (As I started as a volunteer at 11, was there for three years and back as staff for two more seasonally, this is actually pretty impressive.)
Every morning, I get to work at 7 am and the first thing I do is open all of the kennel run doors and let the dogs into their outside run areas. We lock them in at night so that they stay warm (or cool, depending on the season), but they usually really need to go out in the morning after being inside for so long. Every morning this summer, I would get to Emmitt's cage, open the outside door and say "Out!" just like I did with every dog. He may have been deaf, but like all of the other dogs that had been in the shelter for a while, he knew the routine; he knew exactly what I wanted him to do. (Despite being the world's biggest goof, he's hella smart.) Every morning Emmitt would, without fail, do the following things:
- Pick his head up and look at me.
- Cock it to the side, raise ears in question, as if to say, "Really?"
- Stare at me for another few seconds, sleepy and disbelieving. Blink a few times.
- Put his head back on to his paws, possibly resettle himself into a cute little dog-ball... and go back to sleep.
"Really, Emmitt!?" I would say, half-exasperated, half-amused... ok, mostly just caught up in the fact that he is freakin' adorable. He would usually close his eyes and ignore me, at this point. I would finish up with the other dogs and go back to him again at the end. (I actually spoiled him a lot by starting my other work before really having to force him outside... what can I say? I liked having company while I sorted through dirty laundry and collected water bowls to wash.) He might look at me hopefully, if he thought I was going to pet him, or give him something fun and/or tasty, but mostly he would just keep pretending to be asleep. I had to open his cage and physically drag his blanket out from under him to get him to move. He would then stare at me insolently as if to say "Why'd ya do that?" Walk around his cage and, finally, deciding that since he was no longer warm and comfortable, he might as well do what I wanted, make his exit into the outside run, doing his characteristic morning stretch along the way.
Emmitt went home at the very end of the summer (one of my last days of work) with a vet from Maine. Her deaf dog had just died, so she had plenty of experience and could give him the attention and appropriate training he desperately needed. Emmitt is a great dog, but he needed a lot of obedience work, which would be a challenge for even a relatively experienced owner, considering his deafness. I got to meet the vet, and she is a truly wonderful person. She sent us pictures and a letter, telling us that he's doing really well. Here's an excerpt from what she said:
"[Emmitt] is proving to be very smart. He has already learned the hand signal for "sit" and he walks so well on a leash it is amazing. He also is well aware that delicious stuff is kept in the fridge and keeps a sharp eye out for anyone moving in that direction, and even though he couldn't hear the raccoon clumping about in the weeds, he still knew she was there and gave a good growl. My folks are Irish and have taken to calling him Brian Boru after a great Irish king, and also Connor. He seems to enjoy being Irish."
This is Padme and her story is basically phenomenal. So, Animal Control gets a call about a dog living in an abandoned crack house. They go to investigate, trying to approach slowly and trap her upstairs in a secluded room to bring her in. She gets freaked out and ends up jumping out the second story window and running away. The ACOs think that she's going somewhere to die, because, I mean, consider the internal injury implications of that. However, they start getting calls over the next few weeks (that turns into four months, from the time they first got a report about her until she was eventually brought to my shelter) --
"Hi, uh, yeah, there's a dog sleeping in my yard..."
"There's this cougar..."
"...coyote..."
"...dingo..." (Clearly a geographically challenged individual.)
"Er, there's this dog dragging a dead deer down the side of the road..."
They come close to catching her a few times, but she's apparently freaking Houdini reincarnated, because she broke out of, like, two traps. (FYI: They're made for this kind of stuff, so that's really hard to do.) Then, one of the Animal Control Officers decides that he's just really tired of having to carry around a loaded tranquilizer gun for this dog all the time, so he buys 2 dozen Big Macs and puts them in a trap. FINALLY, they catch her. And bring her to my shelter. Of course, I'm not there at this point, since it's April, but after all of this, my co-workers are pretty sure she's going to be too feral to adopt out to anyone, after being on her own for so long, etc.
Within two days, she was wagging her tail at the staff.
A week later, my supervisor sends the picture above of her lounging in the pool to the ACO that finally caught her with a smartass comment along the lines of: "So, this is the world's hardest dog to catch, huh?" (They're friends, so it was appropriate "guy humor" for the situation.) When he did her evaluation (all of our dogs are temperment tested, to see what kind of personality they have, what home they'd be best suited with, how they interact with other animals, etc.), she knew TONS of commands, was super smart (as one co-worker said, "Padme knows it all: sit, stay... cook meth...") and her only issue was a bit of food guarding - as in, she'd move to block her bowl if you tried to take it, but never growled or bit or anything. (And I was told that she worked herself out of it after being in the shelter for a few months and adjusting to getting meals regularly.)
When I last saw her in October when I was home for fall break, I was a little worried about her - as much as she had seemed to be enjoying the shelter over the summer, she was seeming a little depressed. Although we do a really good job taking care of them, giving them food and shelter, exercise and attention, a shelter is just not a home. We try, but it's tough on dogs to be there for months at a time.
In November, right before Thanksgiving, Padme was finally adopted... by this badass biker dude! Apparently they're perfect together and he gave us an update recently on what a wonderful dog she is. I'm just so happy for her. She's been through so much, was still such a phenomenal dog and she just deserved so much better than the life she had been living. Now, she can finally get that properly, in a loving home.
(Also, you guys have no idea how many times I have used this story to entertain at parties. So inspirational!)
This is Riggs/Jack. He'd been picked up before, and we knew his owner was kind of a deadbeat (who KNEW his two dogs were at our shelter... and just never came for them) and that his original name was Jack. But somehow his paperwork didn't get changed from the name we gave him as a stray, which was Riggs, which I kind of hate. I still call him Jack. Anyway, Jack and I connected on an emotional level this summer. He had just arrived at the shelter when I came back to work there this summer. He was scared, timid and unsure, I was scared (of a scary supervisor), timid (because I get very subservient at work sometimes) and unsure (because I was newly back on the job and learning all of the rule changes enacted in the 6 months I'd been gone) -- we were a perfect match. I loved watching him come out of his shell, little by little, as he got more comfortable with his surroundings (and I did, too). The shelter can be a hugely scary place for some dogs - with all of the smells, sounds, and just general unfamiliarity, some of them get really freaked out.
One of my favorite things about Jack is his gentle nature. He's a pretty submissive dog, and is actually highly recommended with children. Frustratingly, the fact that he happens to be a pitbull worked against him - otherwise, I'm sure he would have flown out of the shelter in days, with a personality like his. We had this golden retriever - beautiful dog, but seriously food aggressive. Like, he would eat yo' face. People would always ask to see him and have their 5-year-olds with them, and we'd be all "No, really. You can't have this dog with children." Then, we'd offer to bring out a dog that would be great with kids. And they'd take one look at Jack and shake their heads.
Finally, around the end of the summer (it was great - in one week, almost all of my favorites magically got adopted; Jack and Emmitt went home within a day of each other) Jack found a home. I didn't meet his people, but they sent an update, thanking us again for a "one in a million" dog.
There are many other stories like this, and there no doubt will be many more. These are just the highlights, of some of the dogs that were the focal point of my summer this year. I love that they're pitbulls, and that they just prove everything that people believe about the breed SO wrong. I love that even though they've been through so much, yet are still able to love life and move past it to be amazing companions for their owners. I love that I could look forward to seeing them every day; they knew who I was, and I know that they appreciated that we were there taking care of them and paid us back with their unconditional love. Most of all, I love that there are other people out there who were able to see in them what I (and the rest of the staff) saw: their kindness, their intelligence, their positive attitudes and their potential to be amazing pets. And that they were willing to take a chance on them and give them their forever homes.
It's recollections like this that allow me to keep my faith in the goodness in the world.
Well, technically, I guess we're going to talk about my feelings on pitbulls, but it will be fun. I promise.
This is Emmitt. He is deaf, bowlegged and was probably abused before we got him. He has an abundance of personality, possibly more than I have seen in any other dog, in all my years at this job. (As I started as a volunteer at 11, was there for three years and back as staff for two more seasonally, this is actually pretty impressive.)
Every morning, I get to work at 7 am and the first thing I do is open all of the kennel run doors and let the dogs into their outside run areas. We lock them in at night so that they stay warm (or cool, depending on the season), but they usually really need to go out in the morning after being inside for so long. Every morning this summer, I would get to Emmitt's cage, open the outside door and say "Out!" just like I did with every dog. He may have been deaf, but like all of the other dogs that had been in the shelter for a while, he knew the routine; he knew exactly what I wanted him to do. (Despite being the world's biggest goof, he's hella smart.) Every morning Emmitt would, without fail, do the following things:
- Pick his head up and look at me.
- Cock it to the side, raise ears in question, as if to say, "Really?"
- Stare at me for another few seconds, sleepy and disbelieving. Blink a few times.
- Put his head back on to his paws, possibly resettle himself into a cute little dog-ball... and go back to sleep.
"Really, Emmitt!?" I would say, half-exasperated, half-amused... ok, mostly just caught up in the fact that he is freakin' adorable. He would usually close his eyes and ignore me, at this point. I would finish up with the other dogs and go back to him again at the end. (I actually spoiled him a lot by starting my other work before really having to force him outside... what can I say? I liked having company while I sorted through dirty laundry and collected water bowls to wash.) He might look at me hopefully, if he thought I was going to pet him, or give him something fun and/or tasty, but mostly he would just keep pretending to be asleep. I had to open his cage and physically drag his blanket out from under him to get him to move. He would then stare at me insolently as if to say "Why'd ya do that?" Walk around his cage and, finally, deciding that since he was no longer warm and comfortable, he might as well do what I wanted, make his exit into the outside run, doing his characteristic morning stretch along the way.
Emmitt went home at the very end of the summer (one of my last days of work) with a vet from Maine. Her deaf dog had just died, so she had plenty of experience and could give him the attention and appropriate training he desperately needed. Emmitt is a great dog, but he needed a lot of obedience work, which would be a challenge for even a relatively experienced owner, considering his deafness. I got to meet the vet, and she is a truly wonderful person. She sent us pictures and a letter, telling us that he's doing really well. Here's an excerpt from what she said:
"[Emmitt] is proving to be very smart. He has already learned the hand signal for "sit" and he walks so well on a leash it is amazing. He also is well aware that delicious stuff is kept in the fridge and keeps a sharp eye out for anyone moving in that direction, and even though he couldn't hear the raccoon clumping about in the weeds, he still knew she was there and gave a good growl. My folks are Irish and have taken to calling him Brian Boru after a great Irish king, and also Connor. He seems to enjoy being Irish."
This is Padme and her story is basically phenomenal. So, Animal Control gets a call about a dog living in an abandoned crack house. They go to investigate, trying to approach slowly and trap her upstairs in a secluded room to bring her in. She gets freaked out and ends up jumping out the second story window and running away. The ACOs think that she's going somewhere to die, because, I mean, consider the internal injury implications of that. However, they start getting calls over the next few weeks (that turns into four months, from the time they first got a report about her until she was eventually brought to my shelter) --
"Hi, uh, yeah, there's a dog sleeping in my yard..."
"There's this cougar..."
"...coyote..."
"...dingo..." (Clearly a geographically challenged individual.)
"Er, there's this dog dragging a dead deer down the side of the road..."
They come close to catching her a few times, but she's apparently freaking Houdini reincarnated, because she broke out of, like, two traps. (FYI: They're made for this kind of stuff, so that's really hard to do.) Then, one of the Animal Control Officers decides that he's just really tired of having to carry around a loaded tranquilizer gun for this dog all the time, so he buys 2 dozen Big Macs and puts them in a trap. FINALLY, they catch her. And bring her to my shelter. Of course, I'm not there at this point, since it's April, but after all of this, my co-workers are pretty sure she's going to be too feral to adopt out to anyone, after being on her own for so long, etc.
Within two days, she was wagging her tail at the staff.
A week later, my supervisor sends the picture above of her lounging in the pool to the ACO that finally caught her with a smartass comment along the lines of: "So, this is the world's hardest dog to catch, huh?" (They're friends, so it was appropriate "guy humor" for the situation.) When he did her evaluation (all of our dogs are temperment tested, to see what kind of personality they have, what home they'd be best suited with, how they interact with other animals, etc.), she knew TONS of commands, was super smart (as one co-worker said, "Padme knows it all: sit, stay... cook meth...") and her only issue was a bit of food guarding - as in, she'd move to block her bowl if you tried to take it, but never growled or bit or anything. (And I was told that she worked herself out of it after being in the shelter for a few months and adjusting to getting meals regularly.)
When I last saw her in October when I was home for fall break, I was a little worried about her - as much as she had seemed to be enjoying the shelter over the summer, she was seeming a little depressed. Although we do a really good job taking care of them, giving them food and shelter, exercise and attention, a shelter is just not a home. We try, but it's tough on dogs to be there for months at a time.
In November, right before Thanksgiving, Padme was finally adopted... by this badass biker dude! Apparently they're perfect together and he gave us an update recently on what a wonderful dog she is. I'm just so happy for her. She's been through so much, was still such a phenomenal dog and she just deserved so much better than the life she had been living. Now, she can finally get that properly, in a loving home.
(Also, you guys have no idea how many times I have used this story to entertain at parties. So inspirational!)
This is Riggs/Jack. He'd been picked up before, and we knew his owner was kind of a deadbeat (who KNEW his two dogs were at our shelter... and just never came for them) and that his original name was Jack. But somehow his paperwork didn't get changed from the name we gave him as a stray, which was Riggs, which I kind of hate. I still call him Jack. Anyway, Jack and I connected on an emotional level this summer. He had just arrived at the shelter when I came back to work there this summer. He was scared, timid and unsure, I was scared (of a scary supervisor), timid (because I get very subservient at work sometimes) and unsure (because I was newly back on the job and learning all of the rule changes enacted in the 6 months I'd been gone) -- we were a perfect match. I loved watching him come out of his shell, little by little, as he got more comfortable with his surroundings (and I did, too). The shelter can be a hugely scary place for some dogs - with all of the smells, sounds, and just general unfamiliarity, some of them get really freaked out.
One of my favorite things about Jack is his gentle nature. He's a pretty submissive dog, and is actually highly recommended with children. Frustratingly, the fact that he happens to be a pitbull worked against him - otherwise, I'm sure he would have flown out of the shelter in days, with a personality like his. We had this golden retriever - beautiful dog, but seriously food aggressive. Like, he would eat yo' face. People would always ask to see him and have their 5-year-olds with them, and we'd be all "No, really. You can't have this dog with children." Then, we'd offer to bring out a dog that would be great with kids. And they'd take one look at Jack and shake their heads.
Finally, around the end of the summer (it was great - in one week, almost all of my favorites magically got adopted; Jack and Emmitt went home within a day of each other) Jack found a home. I didn't meet his people, but they sent an update, thanking us again for a "one in a million" dog.
There are many other stories like this, and there no doubt will be many more. These are just the highlights, of some of the dogs that were the focal point of my summer this year. I love that they're pitbulls, and that they just prove everything that people believe about the breed SO wrong. I love that even though they've been through so much, yet are still able to love life and move past it to be amazing companions for their owners. I love that I could look forward to seeing them every day; they knew who I was, and I know that they appreciated that we were there taking care of them and paid us back with their unconditional love. Most of all, I love that there are other people out there who were able to see in them what I (and the rest of the staff) saw: their kindness, their intelligence, their positive attitudes and their potential to be amazing pets. And that they were willing to take a chance on them and give them their forever homes.
It's recollections like this that allow me to keep my faith in the goodness in the world.
Monday, March 1, 2010
"how are you?"
Lately, when I'm asked this question, I have been at a complete loss for how to respond to it. Here is how a few of these conversations have gone in just the last few days (although, let's be honest - this has been a semester-long trend):
- "How are you?"
- "Er... ask me again in a few weeks and you might get a better answer?"
- "How are you?"
- [a beat too long of a pause] "I'm alright."
- "How are you?"
- "I'm exhausted, stressed out and my eyeballs feel like they're melting; I have a ton of work to do and no time to do it in. ... [insert awkward pause] Uh, you?"
- "How are you?"
- "I'm fine."
- "Uh, want to do a better job convincing me of that?"
- In some cases, I get lucky and and am able to dodge the question entirely by a combination of ignoring it, pretending I didn't hear it and changing the subject and ninja-like stealth that I've been perfecting for this very purpose. On a few occasions though, these people (seemingly aware of what I'm up to) doggedly ask me again a few minutes later and I'm annoyingly forced to come up with an actual answer. It usually ranges in the aforementioned spectrum, depending on things like how stressed out I am at that particular moment, how close I am to the person asking, and whether or not I think they're looking for an honest answer.
Because let's be honest - a lot of us just use that as a throwaway line to start conversation. Although I like to think myself a fairly caring person, someone who puts meaning behind that question, I know that I, too, have said it without thinking, without really meaning it. I've been thinking more about it lately, and I've decided that it should just be abolished from conversation. It is unnecessary - once we start a conversation, we will find out how each other is doing, without having to explicitly ask. (Ok, let's be honest [take II] this is probably just my selfish desire to be rid of this nagging question surfacing as an express wish to change social norms... but it's my blog, and I can say what I want?)
Over the past few weeks, I've dealt with tons of work and organizing and stress for Hell Week; more work and organizing and stress for rugby fundraising, as well as that lovely "chalk incident"; a few various friend crises (both their personal crises and conflicts within my own friendships); some personal weirdness stemming from the fact that I might be (kind of, vaguely, sort of... ok, FINE - am) in love (?) with someone who I really should not be ("What is 'shouldn't?'" you say - Trust me on this one. Really.); the fact that my academic performance as of late has been steadily slipping, and I am at a complete loss as to how to counteract this and motivate myself to care again (I'm only a sophomore - this is not only unacceptable & inexcusable, but downright dangerous); I feel like although I have plenty of friends, I'm actually really alone - when I feel the most vulnerable, I don't know who to turn to or what to say. (And what scares me the most about this, isn't that these many friends aren't willing to be there for me - it's that something always stops me from completely letting them.)
I'd like to quickly point out that I don't mean to sound as "oh-woe-is-me-no-one-understands" as I probably do; I recognize fully that my situation is not unique. Bryn Mawr is full of over-committed, stressed out, sleep-deprived (and sometimes just downright crazy) women. I also recognize that there are people doing way more than I am, and that I should just stop freaking out so much and deal.
Except, I've just been having a bit of a hard time with the "dealing" part, and I really wish people would stop asking me this question and reminding me of it.
------------------------------------------------
[Disclaimer: I promise that I am actually dealing with myself and will get my act together at some point (soon). This is just me being overwhelmed and resulting in an overflow of excess feelings that I don't know what else to do with, except to put into this blog. I like this, actually... it's like a receptacle where I can put my emotional baggage so that I don't have to carry it around with me everywhere. But I'm fine. Really. Don't look at this post and worry about my sanity.]
- "How are you?"
- "Er... ask me again in a few weeks and you might get a better answer?"
- "How are you?"
- [a beat too long of a pause] "I'm alright."
- "How are you?"
- "I'm exhausted, stressed out and my eyeballs feel like they're melting; I have a ton of work to do and no time to do it in. ... [insert awkward pause] Uh, you?"
- "How are you?"
- "I'm fine."
- "Uh, want to do a better job convincing me of that?"
- In some cases, I get lucky and and am able to dodge the question entirely by a combination of ignoring it, pretending I didn't hear it and changing the subject and ninja-like stealth that I've been perfecting for this very purpose. On a few occasions though, these people (seemingly aware of what I'm up to) doggedly ask me again a few minutes later and I'm annoyingly forced to come up with an actual answer. It usually ranges in the aforementioned spectrum, depending on things like how stressed out I am at that particular moment, how close I am to the person asking, and whether or not I think they're looking for an honest answer.
Because let's be honest - a lot of us just use that as a throwaway line to start conversation. Although I like to think myself a fairly caring person, someone who puts meaning behind that question, I know that I, too, have said it without thinking, without really meaning it. I've been thinking more about it lately, and I've decided that it should just be abolished from conversation. It is unnecessary - once we start a conversation, we will find out how each other is doing, without having to explicitly ask. (Ok, let's be honest [take II] this is probably just my selfish desire to be rid of this nagging question surfacing as an express wish to change social norms... but it's my blog, and I can say what I want?)
Over the past few weeks, I've dealt with tons of work and organizing and stress for Hell Week; more work and organizing and stress for rugby fundraising, as well as that lovely "chalk incident"; a few various friend crises (both their personal crises and conflicts within my own friendships); some personal weirdness stemming from the fact that I might be (kind of, vaguely, sort of... ok, FINE - am) in love (?) with someone who I really should not be ("What is 'shouldn't?'" you say - Trust me on this one. Really.); the fact that my academic performance as of late has been steadily slipping, and I am at a complete loss as to how to counteract this and motivate myself to care again (I'm only a sophomore - this is not only unacceptable & inexcusable, but downright dangerous); I feel like although I have plenty of friends, I'm actually really alone - when I feel the most vulnerable, I don't know who to turn to or what to say. (And what scares me the most about this, isn't that these many friends aren't willing to be there for me - it's that something always stops me from completely letting them.)
I'd like to quickly point out that I don't mean to sound as "oh-woe-is-me-no-one-understands" as I probably do; I recognize fully that my situation is not unique. Bryn Mawr is full of over-committed, stressed out, sleep-deprived (and sometimes just downright crazy) women. I also recognize that there are people doing way more than I am, and that I should just stop freaking out so much and deal.
Except, I've just been having a bit of a hard time with the "dealing" part, and I really wish people would stop asking me this question and reminding me of it.
------------------------------------------------
[Disclaimer: I promise that I am actually dealing with myself and will get my act together at some point (soon). This is just me being overwhelmed and resulting in an overflow of excess feelings that I don't know what else to do with, except to put into this blog. I like this, actually... it's like a receptacle where I can put my emotional baggage so that I don't have to carry it around with me everywhere. But I'm fine. Really. Don't look at this post and worry about my sanity.]
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