Back on Sewell Road

I drank a cup of coffee at 11 p.m.


I've been sick.  Fever, excessive sleeping, maniacal laughter and whatnot.  It started with a sinus  infection-type deal on Thursday during the afternoon, but then in the evening when I was ref'ing volleyball games at the rec center, I started really feeling not-good.  When I got back to my room that night, I started getting some extreme chills, like shaking, you know.  It didn't matter that I was wearing my dad's hockey jersey along with sweatpants, socks, slippers, fluffy polka-dot bath robe...  I was just insanely cold. 


Friday morning, I skipped math and walked down to our infirmary.  Usually, I wait until I'm too near-death to even try to convince my mom that I don't need to go to a doctor, but now I'm supposed to be responsible, and school seems like a pretty expensive thing to be sick during, so I went.  After looking me over, one of the ladies gave me some Tylenol and said she wanted to take some of my blood to test it for mono.  I shrugged and said "okay," and she left the room. 


Now, you can spin me around for hours in an office chair  and I won't get dizzy; you can feed me twelve hotdogs and send me on a roller coaster and I won't  even come close to ralphing; but I don't have the best track record when it comes to giving blood. 


In eleventh grade, some school club was hosting a blood drive, and I signed up for it because I was psyched about being old enough to do something that normally would have required parental consent.  I got on that bus, answered "no" to the 52,591,453,845,346,001 sexual encounter questions they asked me, and let them plug me in to the drinking straw-like needle contraption.  I thought I was doing well, but then the nurse started peering into my face, looking at me all weird and asking why I wasn't squeezing the ball harder.  No matter how much I tried to appear as okay as I felt, she continued saying I wasn't acting normal and had I not eaten enough food today?  It's very confusing to be spoken to like this when you're feeling all right.  I was just thinking, "Yes, I'm fine, go away, I'm squeezing the stupid thing."  I stared out the window, my eyelids getting heavy, my body getting cold, squeezing the ball as  as often as I could.  Then, suddenly everything turned super-hot and painful, and that moment felt like a really great moment to pass out.  But the nurses hurried and put some ice packs under my neck and on my chest, and gave me like five bottles of apple juice.  Most of my friends answered the sex questions, gave a pint, and left, all in around fifteen minutes.  After apologizing for being so high-maintenance, I left the Blood Mobile after a good two hours. 


My senior year, my friend Ethan somehow coerced me into giving blood again.  That experience wasn't so traumatic.  Of course, it still took over an hour to get the bag full, but there were no drooping eyelids or emergency ice packs involved.  I left feeling like a victor.   I didn't really notice any side effects until I got up at the beginning of my next class to ask my math teacher a question and noticed I couldn't make my face direct itself toward my notebook.  My head sort of just kept lolling backward.  This didn't bother me because I was sky-high, but I think my teacher was offended.  After a solid minute of studying the ceiling, I muttered, "Oh, I get it," and shuffled back to my desk.  It was my habit to make lots of comments during that class, but I guess my comments were a little off that day, because my teacher kept asking if I was following what she was doing.   All I said was, "Oh yeah," but a bunch of people started laughing.   I heard one guy say, "Whatever she's on, I want some."  A few minutes later, when I heard a girl across the room giggle and say "look at Katelyn," I realized I was swaying and grinning down at my pencil.   My little sister and I had to sit in my Jeep in the parking lot for about twenty minutes after school, because driving doesn't seem like a good thing to do when you find your head flopping in different directions.  It was really awesome though.


But Friday at the infirmary, I figured since they wouldn't be taking a big bag from me, it wouldn't affect me too much.  A different lady came in with some little tube things and asked me if I ever had any problems with giving blood.  I lied, and she proceeded to drain a small supply of life from my already weak body.  Two minutes later, I noticed she was looking at me funny; then she ran out of the room and came back with a wet rag and Capri Sun.  Story of my blood-giving life.  Anyway, they gave me five days' worth of antibiotics and told me to skip the rest of my classes for the day.  I spent homecoming weekend in my dorm, blowing my nose. 


Sunday night I didn't sleep well.  Not only had I found out that day that I am among the many who are terribly allergic to Pantene hair conditioner, but I also inexplicably kept waking up scratching my hands and feet.  So I was itching literally from my scalp to the soles of my feet - imagine the itchy.  Monday morning, I wasn't feeling sick anymore, but there were these weird, hurty red spots showing up on the palms of my hands, bottoms of my feet, and even on my face.  Figuring I must be allergic to the antibiotics, I went back to the infirmary after I was done with classes.


As it turns out, these spots were about to transform into a wildly contagious viral disease, usually found in younger children.  Apparently, in the next couple of days I am supposed to endure lots of pain in my mouth and throat, and I am not to go to classes for the rest of the week.  In fact, for the sake of my room mate and everyone else in my hall, the doctor-lady said it would be best if I just went home.  So I left the infirmary, went to the GUC, and bought a frozen white chocolate mocha and a cup of frosted blueberry muffin poppers from the Einstein Bros.  Both were great, if you're wondering.


I was a little shocked.  I mean, here I was feeling better except for these random spots, and now you're telling me that not only is my week going to suck, but I am also exiled from campus?  Of course I wasn't angry with the M.D. - she was very sweet - but I was in general disbelief.  I had never heard of this before; were they making this up?  When I left Lafayette that afternoon, our custodian came in saying she had orders to sanitize Hailey's and my room.  I wondered if I should be wearing a mask and gloves. 


Actually, I do have to wear gloves at all times, and socks!  I mastered Facebook chat today wearing bulky gardening gloves, which was interesting.  For all these precautions I'm taking so others don't catch it, my contagious and harmful spots don't seem to be harming ME yet.  Also, there's nothing wrong with my mouth.  It's cool, though.  I get to watch Smallville (somebody saaaaavvve me) and drink hot tea and use my own bathroom.  Also, my older sister bought me the Deathly Hallows to read, so that should keep me occupied if I get tired of staring at Tom Welling (not likely). 


I started being a dork for Harry Potter toward the end of my senior year when I finally started reading the books and watching the movies for the first time.  My reading-for-fun streak, however, ended when college started, so I never got to read the very last book.  I miss reading.  My senior year, I know I read at least 50 full books.  It was the busiest year of my life, so I'm not really sure how I did it - maybe because I worked in the school library.  I think reading is actually good for busy people, because it kind of slows them down and takes them outside their circumstances so life never gets overwhelming.  Or maybe that's just me because I'm a nerd.

"Don't hang up on me, 'cause I'm hung up on you." - Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

:K

Harappa!

I accidentally followed myself on my own blog, and I can't figure out how to make it go away.  I don't even have time to do this blog right now.  Maybe if I make it long enough, no one will read it.  Also I think I'm getting a fever, and I have to referee three volleyball games tonight.       

I just met my language partner!! Monday I applied for this random volunteer-type program thing where you get to meet a foreign student around here, and you spend an hour a week with him/her.  The whole point is to get the person more into our culture and kind of force him/her to speak English for at least an hour a week.  The ESL (I don't  know what that stands for) people didn't interview me or anything, which is kind of weird, but it's a pretty straightforward concept.  All you really have to do is speak English.  Anyway, his name is Xiao Lei (Show-Lee), and he's from a place near Beijing, China - I can't remember where exactly, but he said the plane trip was 12 hours. 

Foreign students have a lot of work to do, because he has classes for several hours every single day, and a lot of it is just devoted to reading, writing, and listening to English.  He has a pretty thick accent, and I think we had some trouble understanding each other today, but that's all right.  I'm originally from Kentucky, but I've lived in Alabama a good while, so I hope he doesn't pick up my southern accent.  That would be pretty funny.  He's here getting his master's degree in Criminal Justice, which is really cool.  I know this is incredibly ignorant of me, but I never imagine cops and that kind of thing being in China, so I was vaguely confused for a split second when he told me that.  I really need to get out more.

Ow.  I just reached for my deodorant and realized my arm is kind of sore from that shot.  I think I picked up a nice sinus infection yesterday, and I just now got a flu vaccine at the Juicy. Is that bad to do?  I'll tell you what's not bad: Einstein Bro's.  I think it'd be cool if that place were called the Bagel Boy instead though.  Then we could go,"Hey guys, let's hit the Bagel Boy," instead of,  "Hey guys, let's go to the Einstein Brothers' Bagel Company, Incorporated." 

Oh! So Dr. Calhoun.  Yes.   He spoke in our freshman Honor's Forum Tuesday evening.  I thought he was quite rude at first.  In speech class, I have learned that you shouldn't start a speech with an interactive-type question because no one wants to interact with a speaker they've never heard from before.  Instead, you should keep any questions rhetorical until the audience is comfortable with you.  Still, lots of speakers don't abide by this, and a lot of times the audience will humor the speaker by answering him anyway because people don't want their speakers to feel like they're doing a bad job. 

The problem is, not only did Dr. Calhoun start the evening off with a nice and intimidating interactive question, but he used the following awkward pause to insult us.  It kind of went like this:  "So, you all went on a trip to Memphis three weeks ago.  The school spent a lot of money on it, so you better have learned something on that trip.  Tell me some things you learned."  After a short silence he made a comment that we were supposed to be smart and surely we had reaped something from that venture. 

I had been working up to say that I had been really impressed with all the crazy, different forms of art we came across that night on Beale Street.  We saw some awesome clothes, rocking music, a little boy who could sing blues, crazy gymnasts, and a possibly insane spraypainting man who wore a gas mask and busted out amazing pictures left and right.  But now I was somewhat offended and didn't really want to talk to him anymore.  

I used my usual tactic and tried to see his frankness as amusing, and very soon into the hour I warmed up to him.  He basically acted as an advocate of STEM - Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics.  I found him to be really persuasive, which is impressive since he was talking about stuff I hate. 

He continued his shaky beginning by informing us that "this is not grade thirteen," which I admit is something I need to be reminded of.  I mean, obviously college life is gloriously different from high school, but when it comes to the work, man, it's of a higher caliber too.  He wanted us to see that we should not expect our strengths and interests to stay exactly the same as they were in secondary school, because we probably were never able to explore our real boundaries the way we will be able to at UNA.  

So he told us that American STEM prowess (the amount of people who want to be scientists/mathemeticians) is in an alarming decline, while other countries are increasing in that area; and, "paradoxically," (I enjoyed that word) this is happening during the very century that STEM fields have totally improved our lives!  Dr. Calhoun said this is because we have a very poor K-12 curriculum in American education... AMEN.

I personally think kids are intimidated by math and science majors by the time it's time to go to college.  I know I am.  I was completely discouraged away from math by the time I graduated high school, including any classes having to do with math, which is most upper sciences.  The classes made me feel stupid; why would I want to pursue a career that made me feel like a complete 'tard?   So apparently tons of students shared that sentiment with me, and now America is stupider than some second-world countries.  Ooh, riveting.  I mean, I guess we won't be the lead makers of rocketships nowadays, which is unfortunate, but what did he want us to do, change our majors to something more boring? 

The more he talked, though, the more I realized that the reasoning behind the direction I'm taking in college is partly based on fear.  Even in high school, I purposely avoided sciences like Physics and Chemistry, opting for math-less Anatomy and arguably pointless Forensics.  Now in college, I have chosen to retake Pre-Cal because I really didn't learn crap in high school.  I learned from Dr. Calhoun that this problem may not be my fault or even the high school teachers' fault.  Maybe I actually could have been more confident in math or more excited about science if our school hadn't been broke and Mr. Pres and the Higher-Ups hadn't put a lockdown on education... Maybe I shouldn't shy away so much from things that could better my nation.  Maybe I should be an engineer!

Lol, jk. 

But there really was some kind of stirring inside, like maybe I have the capacity to jump into some of the things I'm afraid to even look at.  It is rewarding when I miraculously do understand what's going on in a class that my brain normally rejects, and that does make me want to work harder, if not obssessively, to get a problem right.  My issue is that I am one of those people that only likes to do things that I'm naturally great at.  If I have to work hard to succeed, then I can leave that little snippet of talent to the professionals.  That is so wimpy.  I should stop that.


"Help! I'm alive, my heart keeps beating like a hammer.  Hard to be soft, tough to be tender." - Metric

:K            



 

            

The Lion King in 3D

I am tired beyond all reason, but I don't wanna go to bed because it's Friday night and I don't have to.  So this new refereeing job I got on campus is great and everything, but it's looking like I'm going to be getting like three hours a week.   That is not going to fly with me; I do have car insurance.  Also the ref jersey makes me look like a man in prison.  I really do like the job, though. 

I applied for the Alternate Break Board yesterday! Pretty excited about that.  I'm thinking about joining Circle K, but I don't know... I've never really been a clubby type person.  And it'll cost like 40 bucks to join if I get the T-shirt, and heck yes if I'm in a club, I'm getting the shirt.  They do pretty cool stuff, though.  The only problem is, they do cool stuff ALL the time.  And I can't give them ALL my time.  I'm thinking I'll join anyway, because the worst that could happen is I decide I don't wanna do it again next year.  I just think that if I'm going to go do mission work in Africa at some point, I had better learn to see my own home as a mission field first.  I guess that's kind of the direction I'm trying to take.

It has been so danged cold in my room today. Is it weird that I'm wearing my ex-boyfriend's hoodie?... Well, he probably doesn't need it.

Oh! Yesterday we got back our narratives for Honors English Comp, and I got the highest grade in the class, which was fantastic...allizing.  My essay was about my second-to-last night of work at Chick-fil-A last month, when my co-workers pie'd the mess out of me.  It really pumps me up to get good grades in that class since writing is my major and such.  I think I might try to get a job in the writing center next year.  I wasn't confident about that at all when my mom suggested it this summer.  I was like, "Heh yeah, that sounds great," and figured I'd never ever do that.  But now, maybe I'm more cut out for it than I thought.  Also, I might get on the paper next year.  I don't know how passionate I really am about reporting, exactly, but I am curious about/have opinons on stuff that isn't my business. 

I'm pretty sure I murdered my math test this murnin.  As in, got half of one problem correct and that's about it.  We'll see. 

Sometimes my friends drive me absolutely insane with their identity crises and bad boyfriend choices and stealing my food and flashing me (?), but gosh I'm so glad I have them. 

Well, it's 1 AM and that's about it. "I don't know your face no more... It's just a place I'm looking for." - Keane 

:K       



 





               

     

I Really Need Milk

So busy! Definitely for the best right now.   

Last week in freshman Honor's Forum, we were spoken to about our college degrees and how to set ourselves apart from the thousands of other people who are working for the very same degrees.  He didn't go in the direction I was expecting, thankfully.  He told us, "Your college experience should not be a collection of knowledge and skills; it should be a transformation."  The guest speaker shared with us excerpts from his own life to encourage us to take small concepts that we're passionate about and run with them.  It really surprised me to hear how such small things - his wife deciding to get a dog, his realizing that the Chinese had their own school on the Mississippi River -  radically changed his life.  And I could tell those things only changed him because he was willing to see each event as an opportunity.  He really lived his statement that "a class can't transform you; an experience can."

Something that I related to in his lecture was his adamance that we students should travel and join organizations that actually interest us.  He also prescribed a healthy dose of volunteerism during our college career.  In  this way, not only will we avoid being one-dimensional on paper, I think we will also become more fulfilled as people.  Like a true aspiring writer, I like to understand things that don't necessarily pertain to me, and I'm really excited to grow and learn and follow my passion during college. I have found that sometimes this means trying out new, if not random things, just for a broader scope on life.    

         

The First Two Weeks

Disclaimer: I'm not sure what exactly is expected from me concerning this blog thang.  That being said...

I'm loving college.  I didn't know what to look forward to about it, so I basically assumed nothing and quite frankly walked into my freshman year about as blindly as a person can.  My summer was very distracting, I guess you could say.  I was thinking about the time that would fill the next four years, sure, but not really about college itself.  As it turns out, I got a job on campus on a whim, Lafayette is the boss, the people here are awesome, and the food in Towers is usually worth the hike. It's amazing how natural it feels to be away from home.

The actual school part is impressing me, too.  The professors are unbelievably cool, it seems like I've learned more in my Pre-Cal class in the past two weeks than I did all during my senior year of high school, and I got only positive remarks back on that 50-minute diagnostic essay we were forced to do last week. The Honors classes I'm taking surround me with people that might challenge me to put forth a little effort, which is something I can use...  So the past couple weeks have been a nice surprise.