A Heart's a Heavy Burden

So... Being too busy has begun to get to me, heh. On Sunday night I got more anxious than I have been in quite some time and I didn't fall asleep until just before Steve came to bed around 3am (He took a 5-day weekend to use up his remaining vacation time before the year ends), and then of course when he woke me up the anxiety cycle restarted. I ended up calling in Monday and yesterday, to catch my breath and also to spend some time with Steve. I mean, I still had school on Monday, and I had a chiro appointment that I ultimately skipped, but it was still good to actually get sleep on not be stressed with the new trimester. I'm definitely over all the rules and controlling of Bath and Body works. I can't wait to be done. I just am not interested in the way it's run, especially with that one manager I simply can't stand. She's rude. And omg my time is so busy. Ughhghghhghhh.

So instead I got to play copious amounts of Rock Band 3!

Pat told me yesterday that it was "refreshing" to have someone who consistently wanted to do vocals. I was surprised because I feel like a bossy twat whenever I'm on vocals, simply because I don't like to do anything else. Guitar Hero I can play on guitar, and I was quite good at it at one point when I lived at Dan's parent's house and played with Michael, but for some reason it just isn't the same on Rock Band. Probably because there's soooo much repetition of notes versus variety. I just HATE the guitar. And let's face it, I am not a drummer. I like to sing, and I can USUALLY figure out pitch. Whenever ANYONE (usually female) asks to sing when I'm being vocals, I get all stiff like they think I'm hogging them and I need to share. I think I might be paranoid. XD

That 70's Show is so good. We've switched back to that being out background show. And omg Breaking Bad is amazing. We finally started the 5th season and it's GREAT.

I'm dyeing my hair Christmas colors this time... I was originally going to do a pink/green/purple or pink/green/blue combo, but then Steve pointed out that it's the holidays, so we got some red and I'm working on the colors right now! I'll post a pic when finished.

When I was at school on Monday, the professor asked for a show of hands who planned to do the hybrid program (mostly online), or the traditional program (once a week face-to-face). Most people raised their hands at hybrid. The class was about half that of when we started. This is due to a combination of people dropping out of the program with a smattering of people who didn't need the course. It was weird. My 3 favorite people were still in it, so I sat by them this time so I didn't have to get stuck with annoying guy. Anyway, during the break one of the students talked with the professor about the differences in the programs, and apparently the professor told them that while the face-to-face program does require the attendance commitment, there's a lot less busy work and most of the work is done in class. Ugh. WHYYY SO MEAN!?!?!? I mean, I get it. They want to make sure students are learning when not attending class so they assign a bunch of things. Is attending a class once a week a good trade-off for not having a ton of independent work? I'm so torn!

P.S. the urologist called back with my test results and said that even though my numbers were far improved, I was still showing some of that bacteria they don't want, so it's back to no sex for a couple weeks and a mega dose of medication. AND another follow-up appointment. Woo.

I almost decided to lead a double life for a moment. Quite surreal, and insane how easily it could happen. In another life, I think. But not now. I'm glad I peeked through the window, though. I needed to.

I've been able to talk to Bre relatively frequently lately, and I like that. She and Lamin even visited the townhouse for a bit on their way to a rodeo in Wisconsin. I love her inability to have a filter, and her brutal honesty, but above all, her genuineness. There is no way for that girl to be disingenuous and it's that quality that keeps her so near and dear to my heart.

When writing on my phone I must hit the letter k instead of m about 90% of the time and the text predictor always changes 'my' to 'Kyoto'. Lol.

Been playing a lot of Persona 3 Portable on the PSP and watching a lot of Breaking Bad with Steve and Pat. I'll be finished with my first grad school class this weekend and immediately start class number two! Otherwise there's not too much else going on, just seeing family here and there. Steve did the Mud Factor 5k obstacle course with me and will do the Warrior Dash next summer with me. Warrior dash was way more fun anyway even if the mud smelled and felt like actual shit. Mud Factor has amazing soft sandy mud that did not stink.

Oops! Break is over!

Posted via m.livejournal.com.

I feel so successful right now!

• Student immunization form (Will print and send off tomorrow)
• Request for transfer of credit form (if applicable)
• Current resúme showing 2 years of work experience
• 2 admissions references (1 is in, the other is on vacation until the first of May)
• Official transcript(s) showing an earned bachelor's degree, all graduate schools attended (if applicable), and pre-requisite requirements (if applicable). (However I sent an email because it shows I need transcripts from all 3 colleges but Metro lists all of my institutional history on theirs so I don't WANNA request more.)
• Academic evaluation (coordinated by your Admissions Advisor)
• Statement of purpose (I have completed a rough draft and have asked for edits by the lovely Suzi and Athena and had it read and approved of by Steve. I am crossing it off because the main and most difficult part of at least getting it out is done)
• Submit FAFSA
• Apply for Aid (Awaiting review)
• Degree sent (Will make a copy on Monday if I can find my diploma. Lol)

I am so close to being fully applied to grad school!

Sooo, I'm reading this book based on the incredibly terrifying and gruesome Hi-Fi Murders. Steve says I'm morbid. I know I am. When I was in 11th grade and had to find a skeleton picture as the cover of my Shakespeare reviews or whatever, I spent hours discovering gory death pictures after that was the majority of search results. I haunted my dreams with awful ways people look after being murdered or committing suicide. The Hi-Fi murders are particularly horrible because they were planned deaths of random people. That is, the primary killer decided that he would horrifically murder anyone present during the robbery of an electronics store. The book is non-fiction, weaved together from interviews with the survivor and anyone involved (including the murderer) as well as testimony from the trials. The book is highly detailed to the level I desire, which only intensifies the effect. I've spent two lunch breaks with teary eyes wallowing in the despair the family experienced and is poignantly captured. I was talking to Steve about how amazing it is and at one point he burst out laughing because I "Leah'd" - a term with many definitions but is frequently referenced when I tell unnecessary details because *I* would want them (the example in question was where I was talking about an investigator and felt the need to explain that he was actually sort of retired and not the *main* investigator but it's still cool that the murderer in this case is also the murderer in the ONLY unsolved homicide he had). I was most moved by a man whose wife and 16-year-old son were both involved in the murders. He describes how it felt to face his dead wife in all her ruined glory and having to come to terms with the fact that the woman he was with for 36 years and was his "partner for life" was gone. Yep. Just gone. No more. The end. Never coming back. Over. And how he had to be strong while each of his other family members mourned after they arrived at the hospital and that he had to close off his heart to the fact that his life partner, who he was JUST talking to before she left to find their son (AND she was frantic with worry at the son not returning home yet and he told her she was overreacting. Think about THAT guilt), was dead forever. I explained to Steve that for me it would be a CONSTANT immediate back-and-forth where I would tell myself that information and then swiftly reject it with an "IMPOSSIBLE NO IT'S NOT TRUE IT'S NOT I CAN'T ACCEPT THAT FUCK YOU IT JUST SIMPLY IS NOT POSSIBLE I CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS AND NO TAKE IT BACK." Rinse and repeat.

As a result, I should not have been surprised to have a similar heart-wrenching dream in which I left a church and drove by many crazed velociraptors (naturally) and when I arrived at his office building I KNEW that Steve had been attacked by raptors and I was frantically trying to find out where he was and I went to the hospital to find him and I was screaming for him and I knew he was dead but I couldn't accept it and I knew I would try to take it back when I found his mangled body and I kept willing him to be alive and not hurt. I woke up with my "trying to cry" face on, breathing all heavy and terrified. I immediately rolled over to Steve and cuddled him super hard and could not let go of him for several hours. And of course when I tried to fall back asleep I had to try to force the remnants of the dream away so I could stop trying to manipulate it and fail. My dreams like that go in endless circles as my brain refuses to allow a proper ending. But seriously, when I imagine that he could just *poof* and be gone just like that from my life, I feel exceptionally suffocatey and hyperventilatey and will it never to come to pass (which Steve also includes in my morbid thinking category). He is just the most important person in my life. If I think about it hard enough I want to keep him locked up at home so nothing bad could ever happen to him. Thank god I don't want kids because I'd freak every time they left the driveway. This exact thing is why I HATED the movie Practical Magic - the moment when Sandra Bullock thinks that she and her husband's love will overcome the curse but then there's that stupid cricket or whatever and she tries frantically to catch it but can't and her stupid husband dies anyway. NO. NO.

In other news, I officially applied to grad school for an ABS license, which will be a broad licensure allowing me to teach levels 1 and 2 of EBD, LD, and Autism and I can go back again to get licensed for 3 and 4. I went to the informational meeting and everyone there (prospective students as well as faculty) agreed that the type of license is a great investment and there's been a growing need for me-types.

Steve and I are also doing what we're calling "ghetto week" and seeing who can make the best of of $20 from Friday to Friday. This of course does not really include not spending anything, because it kind of ruins the fun. So we each got a $20 bill to spend on whatever we like for the week and we aren't allowed to spend anything more (excludes gas). It's easily doable, but we're so frivolous with the money we don't put in savings that it's a cute game for us to be frugal. Yes, we admit we are privileged, even with me working a crappy-paying job.

I spend a lot of time on the internet reading blogs about how to be a better person. Or being on school websites on how to be a more "educated" person. Or on tumblr about how to be a funnier person. But mostly I read about other people's lives and compare them to my own and try to figure out what I can learn about myself in order to be a happier, more fulfilled person.

Because to be quite honest, I experience anhedonia more than I think I should. I haven't yet figured out if it's just my brain being bored/not stimulated enough, or if it's because I haven't found what makes me *truly* happy.

I often find myself discussing with people who revere the things I've done in my life (things like becoming a CNA and taking care of old people, working with children with autism, working in group homes, working with the mentally ill on a deep level) and feeling silly. Silly because they think I am a "special kind of person" and all the amazing differences I have made in people's lives. When I left MHR, I struggled with massive guilt because I had clients frantically calling me to make sure they got to tell me how much they enjoyed having me as a case manager and what I meant to them.

This does not help my guilt because when I am working with people, I genuinely feel that while I am *good* at it, I am pretty much phoning it in. Maybe I AM a special kind of person. The horrible kind where you look like you genuinely care, and do in fact on a deep level, but because of the stress and constant letdowns you force yourself to close off these feelings for further examination and experience at a different time when it is not immediately affecting you. The kind of person who actually feels impatient after working with a certain type of people for awhile because you already have been through this a thousand times. And yet somehow my indifference goes unnoticed and apparently is received as heartfelt concern.

Ugh, I'm being hard on myself. But that's really how I feel like I get. I get to a point where I start convincing myself that I don't care and everything about the people I work with annoys the shit out of me.

Relevant because I've been seriously looking into Special Ed. licensure programs (I need to amend to state that I can't actually get a Master's in anything Teaching without a license, and if I get a Special Ed license it will, in effect, make me eligible for any future teaching degrees and legally able to teach in the U.S.) and even completed a FAFSA. I think if I choose this program I will go to Bethel as it seems to fit these needs the best.

But.

I am deeply unsure if I should have a career working with people because it's what I'm good at vs something that I don't get burned out on after 6 months. I am very concerned and stressed about this issue. Why must everything burn me out? Is it something I'M doing, or the work, or what? Hau~   -_-

I am definitely discussing this on the walk tonight with Steve.

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(  In other news, Steve and I have created some goals )

I've started looking into Master's of Special Education options. It came about quite coincidentally. Steve and I have begun taking nightly walks again, mostly to unwind and talk. Oftentimes we end up talking about Dream Life, or What We'd Like to Do in the Future, or I Wish I Had a Special Interest or Niche. Stuff like that. Recently we were talking about if I were to go back to school for some sort of Master's program, and what I might actually do with my life. We talk about our mutual disinterest in every job ever, and what we could try to do to fix it. Steve would love to be a Forever Student because he loves school. I love learning and being able to apply the knowledge, but hate going to school. And when we talked about IF I went back to school, I came to the conclusion I would probably focus on special education. I don't even really have a because other than, "I didn't hate it or get burned out on it exactly and it translates to lots of jobs and would prove I am smart in the field according to my piece of paper."

Then, on Wednesday my director NaTasha walked in and said, "Are you interested in a Master's degree? I get a ton of these all the time." Despite my conversation with Steve, I said I didn't know what I would go back for. She handed me the paper and lo and behold, there is a new addition to Concordia's Master's program in Special ed with an option for LD and EBD licensure. And is entirely online, with one course completed every seven weeks. It's like tailored to me. I did amazing in any online course I was in because I worked at my own pace and was never required to leave my bed, which is a serious motivational thing for me. I emailed for information but also asked NaTasha if I could leave early one day this month to attend an informational meeting, which she was wishy-washy about.

In other news, I still definitely hate babies. A lot. The toddler room has actually improved and I'm in there over half of each day now, which is fine.

( Pics and stuff to start... )

Andy did a wonderful job on my tattoos. Brandon, the piercing apprentice, kept coming in to ask how much it hurt. I was like, "...it hurts. Definitely. Wait, did you cry?! Did you cry when you got your foot done?"

And he was all, "Yeah. I did. ... But it HURT, man!"

Andy was just like, "Yeah, he kept yelling at me: 'why do you keep wiping so hard?! God!"

And then I spent the rest of the session giggling every now and then with "STOP WIPING SO HARD" playing through my head, especially when Andy wiped and it DID hurt (though, it will hurt. Paper towels are not soft). My foot hurt about as much as most of the others. My shoulder was pretty similar, and I might just have trauma issues with my back tattoo and how excruciating it was, but I still say my back hurt more. My arm and calves hurt less to be tattooed, I'm fairly certain.

My back hurt from the position I was sitting in, because I was holding tight to my leg to try to soften the blows when my foot would twitch from a combination of tickle/pain reflex and for some reason would also make my calf twitch. There were two distinct times where my foot JUMPED super hardcore and I was like, "SORRY OMG THAT DIDN'T EVEN HURT MORE I DUNNO! BAD FOOT!" and Andy was just like, "It's okay, I jumped all over the place when I got my feet done, especially my toes." So all was well.

I was super gung-ho about writing a post yesterday, but LJ wasn't working and now I don't know what I was going to write about :( Well anyway, I had an okay work week, a lot more bitchiness and stress than I like, but it's okay. I'm already thinking about what I want to do in the future. And I had a brilliant idea. As much as I love Japanese and want to be awesome at it, I have no real life practice anyway. What I COULD do is get fluent* in Spanish again and work as a bi-lingual something-or-other in Human Services! Example: I COULD WORK AT PLANNED PARENTHOOD for their bi-lingual services! They are always looking for translation help. Or ANY place like that! I would LOVE to be able to use foreign language in my job. So my tentative plan at the moment is to sign up for the community ed Spanish classes because they are only 55 bucks for 8 sessions, see how that works, and try to build up my Spanish well enough to test out of hopefully the entire beginner's courses in college. Then I plan on taking classes (if offered) without actually being a student (aka continuing ed) at like the University of MN or something, and eventually if I have to, I will apply for the degree program. I'm hoping that my confidence in my skill level pays off and that I can get a job without another degree, but if it comes to it, I'll do what I need to. I really don't want to study abroad. I'd be fine taking a trip abroad or something, or finding some area with Spanish immersion, but I am not leaving my home and my life.

It's interesting to me that when I started school I intended to double-major in Spanish and Education, and the only reason I dropped Spanish was because I couldn't graduate in 4 years (LOL little did I know it'd take me like 5.5 regardless), and my anxiety pushed me out of education. It'd be funny if I ended up getting a Spanish degree in the end after all.

In other news, my personal trainer challenged me not to use the scale for two weeks, and Steve is supporting me by not weighing himself either. My trainer Martin is even following his own advice and told me yesterday that he hid his scale in the garage so it won't tempt him XD It's so cute! I get really anxious at not being able to weigh myself. Like WHAT IF I'M GETTING FATTER AND I DON'T KNOW IT?! Which is faulty logic but I think it every day. I'm hoping I'm not. I can't know my weight until my weigh-in on the 13th. I've been doing well after letting my feet rest a few days from the tattoos, and I've been to the gym several times this week. I'm working more on running and cardio, but I hated Martin when he made me use the stationary bike yesterday. I just felt it was cruel for some reason and was very upset about it. I hate stationary bikes and ellipticals and stair-steppers. I don't know why, but I do. With a passion.

*I use the term loosely. I was very good at reading and writing at my peak, and I could hold decent conversations, but I usually gleaned subtext well enough to make it not completely awkward without actually knowing everything said. A great example that I'm still pretty good at Spanish is in Tokyo Godfathers when an entire scene is held in Spanish and Japanese, with only subtitles for the Japanese, and I was able to tell Steve the gist of what the woman speaking Spanish was saying, even if I didn't understand EXACTLY what it was, with very few "I totally did not get that part." parts.

So, yesterday in class was incredibly long. We had 8 presenters at 10-20 minutes each. We get to the last presenter, and she goes up and pulls the wrong presentation up on accident. It looked like a draft she did. She didn't know until like the 3rd slide that this was her practice PowerPoint. She was obviously not very adept at computers, and seemed confused as to how to bring up the correct one. The professor told her that she couldn't stop her presentation. It was quiet, like wtf. She was just like, "Uhhh, well I can stop if you want, but this is the WRONG presentation." A peer jumped up and quick helped her pull up the right PP. Whew, crisis averted. We thought.

The professor is a rude bitch. One of those women who looks over her half-spectacles at you like you're completely dumb, who always speaks with an air of superiority, and generally makes you feel like you're an inch tall. In my "suggestion" section of my eval for her, I gave her this list:

1. Don't assign busy work (it's a senior level capstone ffs)
2. Please be respectful. Don't treat your students like children - you're quite rude at times
3. We already did an internship, our major presentations shouldn't be on an agency
4. Only discuss assignments relavent to the particular class or the next one (she had a horrible habit of confusing the class by talking about an assignment due in a month, not even a big assignment, just one due at a far later date. This happened nearly every class and freaked a lot of people out so they thought things were due when they weren't for weeks)
5. Don't belittle students if they must leave class early or not come at all, and then cancel class as it suits your convenience (she did this a few times to attend out-of-state conferences - or so she says. I must point out that we only had class once a week so "a few times" adds up.)

Something like that. More concise I think, but those were the main ideas. I'd like to remind you that the average age of a student at my school is in their 30's. Very few fresh-out-of-hs kids.

So, back to the woman who was presenting. The professor interrupted her a couple times to tell her she was "wrong" about stuff, and she lost it. Clicked to the end of her presentation, said she was done, and started packing up her stuff. At this point we all felt bad for her and quick wrote on her evaluation how we were sorry the prof was so rude and threw them at her. She finished packing her stuff in a rage, and we all sort of looked around uncomfortably. Then, when she was walking out the door, she said something like, "You have a fucking attitude problem" to the professor, who shot back in her best oh-no-you-di'n't black lady voice, "You better watch yourself!" and the woman in HER best pissed off black lady voice, basically repeated how rude the professor was, who ALSO basically repeated her first statement. This would have been a sociologically amusing situation, because most of us were pointedly looking at our tables, or at their work. I imagine some were staring at the two in shock, gauging their facial expressions. I was a table-watcher, because I know what it's like to be in that woman's position, being filled with a helpless blind rage that makes you blurt out like a child because you gotta do SOMETHING. I respectfully didn't look at her because I wouldn't have wanted anyone looking at ME when I was having a public tantrum. It was even more awkward because there were only 15 students in the class and it was a small room. The tension was THICK.

Everyone left class whispering about the awkwardness of the situation. A guy came up to me and Ana and was like, "Whoa, that was INTENSE!" All Ana (classic Ana) had to say was, "Well I felt bad for her but that was so stupid because her stuff hasn't been graded yet!!!" Ah, yes, the professor wields the Grading Sword.

I called Mom on the way home to let her know I finally was done, and she HAD to let me know that Paul is butthurt because I only had two tickets to my graduation and didn't tell him he was guaranteed one. All I ever said was that I wasn't playing the game. He's all DUA because he contributed financially to college and they got me the apartment when I wasn't old enough for the dorms (THEY insisted) yadda yadda yadda. He's DAMN lucky he wasn't on the phone, because I would have told him that I would trade all the money in the world to just have had his emotional backing when I needed it most. FOR REAL. I just told Mom that that sucks for him that he read into my words and thought I was choosing my father over him. I never said anything either way, just gave them the facts.

His whole "blood means nothing, proof is in the actions" argument became bullshit when he admitted he probably loves August more than Bethany or me because he's BLOOD, and that his parents didn't do shit for him yet he still puts them on a pedastal. And that after 14 years he still hides behind BULLSHIT stepparenting literature that he uses as an excuse when things go wrong. At least my father has never called me names in my life, has never told me I was dirty and worthless. I'd trade my college education if he could take that shit back. THAT is why I didn't guarantee him the ticket. I lose sleep over this bullshit all the time. I am SO MAD. I couldn't fall asleep last night because I was fighting with him in my head again. Most of my dreams are about fighting with him or Bethany. Ugh. I can see this exploding. It's just building and building.

Minor rant: I activated my dormant checking account and am going to move my monies over there because he slipped and accidentally admitted he still watches my bank account. Ass. GTFO now. I have one account connected to my Mom's account, which is also his account, from when I was a teenager and the bank required an adult to be a part of it. I have to close it completely to keep them from seeing stuff, and I have a TON of accounts online linked to it, including work, so I'm going to leave it open to pay bills and just keep everything else in my other one.

Bethany has been ultra cute lately and asking me all these questions about college, because she wants to go for Nursing or MA as long as it's an Associate's. Even though she's terrified of needles and talking about them makes her queasy, lol. But she's been texting and calling to vent and doing research using me and it's all very adorable. I like that.

-My work internet wouldn't let me access LJ the other day and I haven't been on the internet really otherwise for a few days.

-I presented my agency stuff yesterday in class. The professor was successfully schmoozed by my fancy words and knowledge of the agency (I did my internship there after all) and ability to talk to the class, so I can't imagine not getting an A on that. Now all I need to do is finish organizing my portfolio for Dec. 1, and I am DONE. DONEEEE.

-Steve officially gave me permission to open my presents whenever I want as of yesterday afternoon, so I'm waiting until I get home from my benefits meeting around 10am to open them technically a day early ^_^

-I beat Tales of Symphonia and started Uncharted: Drake's Fortune. I loved Tales' ending. It was sweet and cute, and I'm glad I played it. Uncharted is completely different, but I watched Steve play it and it's one of those few bro games that he adored. I'm literally halfway through the game right now, earning my first-ever trophies for the PS3! I took yesterday off of work so I had the time, and I'm taking tomorrow off of work too for Harry Potter and birthday stuff.

-Had a uretie (that's my urethra's nickname, pronounced yoo-ree-tee) scare that actually pushed me to placebo myself with a prescription cipro pill, tons of cranberry/vitamin C, and even AZO, which never fails to make me want to vomit. I feel better though. All is well.

-Uretie scare was possibly the result of an amazing romp.

-I am going to be very busy this weekend, but I'll be thinking of youuu! <333

Bah, fuck school. I rarely check my university email, because I don't ever get emails from the school. That's not true; I actually checked quite frequently up until the end of October, even though I was never sent anything.

Oh, and THEN I missed a bunch of important emails. Because I was busy not remembering to check my university email for 2 weeks.

Not only did I miss the deadline to purchase cap + gown (even though it's a month away still and the company is here), I also needed to CLAIM tickets, which I also missed the deadline on (though I missed it by like 2 hours so I tried submitting it anyway). The cap and gown thing is quite annoying because now I get charged a late fee that's just as expensive as the gown itself. And I only requested two tickets, because SEVERAL idiots who don't know how to use the email system complained to the entire graduating class about their whole families needing tickets, and I thought I'd worry about at least getting 2 like I warned my family I might get. I don't know if I'd be able to get more than 2 anyway, as it appears they are in high demand. I also don't know who the fuck to choose - my biological parents, or Mom and Paul? Or what? I think I'll tell them to decide amongst themselves because I am not playing that political game.

I got most of my powerpoint presentation done for Wednesday. I just need to fine-tune some things and create my actual speech from it. I also need to write the actual analysis paper, but that's really just taking details from the presentation and expanding them into sentences. After that presentation and turning my portfolio in, I am DONE with school. DONEEEE. Graduating. Bachelor's degree ahoy.

Consequently, I am quite busy atm. I am using my alternate holiday (in exchange for working Thanksgiving) on Wednesday so that Steve and I can get a nice night together, and I am busy as hell on the 18th, what with work, then benefits meeting, then work meeting, plus gifts and Harry Potter. Friday is my birthday, which I plan to spend relaxing with Steve and enjoying gifts. And Saturday is spending time with Roy, his family, and my sister, and I dunno but I think I'm doing something with Mom's family Sunday.