Writing club, December 30, 2008

September 22, 2004
I wonder what it feels like to have amnesia. What a horrible thing to get. I wonder if I’d become a completely different person. I wonder if me becoming a different person would be because I have no memories, or because of the head trauma. I wonder if people who are murderers, or who have done other horrible things in their lives would become different people, without the memories of what made them what they are. They say split personalities are caused by horrible childhood events. Maybe people who have split personalities, if they had amnesia, would be cured. There are things in my life I wish I couldn’t remember. I say that, but it’s not true. Even the bad things, I wouldn’t want to forget. Well, maybe some of them. It’d feel so weird, not knowing who I am, or what’s happened to me. Half the things in my life wouldn’t make sense. Amnesia’s so weird. You don’t forget how to read or do math. You don’t really forget facts, like who the president of the United States is—things that have become second nature. What if you were a great cook? Would you still be able to do that? Isn’t that second nature? Did you know you can get amnesia by ingesting something toxic to your brain?! Can you even live after ingesting something toxic to your brain? Who studies this? I kind of want to now. Maybe I’ll become an amnesia researcher. That will be my main goal in life. I kind of want to get amnesia, just so I can see what it’s like. But if I do, will I remember having lost my memory? What if you got amnesia, and your brothers and sisters wanted to play a joke on you, and they pretended you were someone completely different from who you really are-- would you become that person, because it’s what you base yourself off of? Or would who you really are show through, despite the fact that you have amnesia? How come they don’t offer classes on amnesia? Is it really that rare? I want to know someone who has amnesia. That could be interesting. But back to the whole “what if I got amnesia” thing—my life would really not make any sense. How would I know which boy I liked?! How would I know where to pick up my paycheck from work?! How would I know if I was in the middle of – ooo—that reminds me—maybe I wouldn’t remember any of the movies I watched. You know how some movies, the first time you watch them, feel like magic? I could have that feeling again! But how would I know what my favorite movies are? That’s it—I’ve decided. I have to make a list of everything I want myself to know, in case I ever get amnesia—a list of my favorite movies, books to read—what guys I like. That way I won’t completely embarrass myself around them. What if I’m the first person who has amnesia to forget how to read and write or do math! Not that I can do math anyway. The chances of me ever getting amnesia are incredibly rare, so I guess there’s no reason for me to keep writing this. So I’ll go to sleep.
I put my diary down on the bed and look at the mirror. 2004—it’s been 4 years since I had written this. I am now convinced. I was reading it for clues, hoping to find out about… never mind. I’m done. What a creepy person I was before I had amnesia. I should have written myself that list.

Ramblings at 12:20 AM about nothing really of value, probably...

This might sound like a weird comment, but I often talk to myself, but as a different person. Like, my body and me are two different things, working towards a common goal: living. The agreement is this: I keep it alive, and it allows me to live here. It's like growing a plant-- you just go through the daily motions of taking care of something else. When my stomach growls, I tell it I'll tell it that I'll get it something to eat, unless I'm mad at it; then I act like I'm a 7-year-old kid and say something like, "Hush up, I'm not too happy with you right now, either! Can't you see I'm busy? It's not like you've been the nicest thing to me..." Wouldn't it be great if your body could understand you, though? If all you had to do was say, "You're doing this wrong" and your body would get it, and fix itself. It's so weird how it can't. How your mind can know one thing so perfectly, but the rest of you just doesn't get it. Why is that? When I get shot in my dreams, my body feels that. If you think you bump your head, your head swells, even if you never really hit it. I remember in 8th grade reading about a boy who thought fate told him to die, even though it didn't, and he did, simply because he thought he was going to (what a creepy book to read in middle school! And people wonder why I turned out this way...) So, if we get all of the negative effect, why can't we get the reverse be true, in a postive light? Research shows that just believing you'll get well won't actually make you well. Positive thinking helps, but if you're about to die, no amount of "I think I'll live now" will heal you. You can't trick your mind into thinking you have oxygen under water, or tell your heart to beat more than it's willing to. If there's an actual physical element present that prevents you from being healthy, believing won't make it go away. And something so simple as a genetic abnomality, even if you know what happened, won't make itself right. Why is that? But I've got to take better care of my body, because it really is the only one that I have, and it's mine, and not anyone else's, and I'm the only one that can take care of it. I was entrusted with it. Even though I get mad at it a lot, like when it won't do something that I want it to do-- that's probably an everybody thing, and not just a girl who hates her disease. But it's weird how I want to stay in this body forever. I don't want to leave it. It's impossible, I know-- unwise, and probably irresponsible. But it's the first real partnership we know. It took us years to even be able to move our limbs the way we wanted to. And this might sound creepy, but I can so understand why devils, when they get inside someone's body, thrash around and are unable to control it. It's really something we had to master. When my leg was paralyzed, it was such a weird feeling. I tried really hard to move my foot-- nothing. I couldn't feel coldness or pain. Moving it was just something that I couldn't do. Something as easy as moving my foot up and down, I couldn't do. It was weird. For years after I regained movement-- even now, every once in a while, I look down at my foot and move it up and down and see if I can feel my toes, just in case. It's not like it's going to be paralyzed again, but being able to move your feet up and down is an amazing wonderful thing! I'm sure there's things my body doesn't like about me, too. There's a lot of things I don't like about me. But we live with our differences, and we live on. Breathing-- that's a weird concept, too! The fact that a few moments after you're born, your body is doing a job without you thinking about it at all, and it keeps doing that job to the best of its ability for as long as it does. Now that I've thought about breathing, I'm like, "Oh my gosh, breathe! Don't stop breathing..." You're probably doing that, too. Fun, isn't it? You're welcome. Your body has this entire thing that it goes through every day, and it takes a lot from a lot of different things, and people's bodies can be incredibly resilient! But my body was also entrusted with something. Which leads me to another question-- one of those questions that don't really matter, so they'll never actually be answered, but something I still think about-- I wonder if my spirit is taller than my body. Like, if I was taller in the spirit world. Like I said, doesn't matter at all, but still. Okay, body-- let's continue to work together to give me this one chance that I have at life. Because we both know that I'm not one of those people who learns things easily, and I'll have to live at least over 100 years before any of those lessons they've been trying to teach really sticks in my head and changes me. Perhaps I should sleep now.

Hybernation

I'm pretty sure that I could hybernate all winter. Yesterday after church, I went to sleep from 4:30-8:30. I thought I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep until 3 or 4, but 1:00 AM comes around, and I was tired again, so I turned off my lights, and the next thing I knew, it was 7:30. And I completely ignored the fact that I was awake and went back to sleep. My alarm is set to go off at 8:00 every day, and it did, but I ignored even that, and went back to sleep. The next thing I knew, it was 10:30, and I thought, "I'll just go back to sleep until 11:00." 11:30 came around, and I said, "Wow, it's cold outside, and I'm warm under my covers- why not sleep forever." But alas, I actually have to do something today-- the one and only thing I actual HAVE to do-- mail my books back to wherever they came from so they don't charge me more rent. I'll be so glad to get rid of those books (We only used one of them for my class on a daily basis, so next semester, I won't buy books until I know I need them). I was going to do it on Saturday, but the UPS place isn't open then. Isn't that creepy?! I thought they were like, "Rain or shine..." But maybe that's the army. Anyway, if people had no where they had to be-- if they had nothing they had to do, I'm pretty sure we would sleep all winter. I think we're very capable of it. Yesterday reached a -17 high during the day with the windchill, and I looked outside, and it was snowing horizontally (which is this way ----) because of the wind, and I thought, "I'm SO glad I'm not homeless right now!" I actually have been homeless before, but only for four days. It's creepy how weird it feels when you don't have a place to go but your mom's car. I left my car unlocked for the sole purpose that if any homeless crazy person wanted to get inside my car to be warmer they could-- that's how cold it was! And I hate the cold, and my body REALLY hates the cold, and it's usually around this time of year that it's harder to move, so I think my bones are trying to shut my body down as long as it can so I don't go out to the cold. But I imagine everyone gets more tired in the winter, because maybe we're supposed to hybernate! Why can't we carry blankets with us everywhere we go? We probably can. Maybe I should. It's so weird not having to be anywhere-- not having anything to do. Like, incredibly weird. I've had a few weeks off before-- the first week you hate it and can't wait to have a schedule again. The second week you don't want to go back to having something to do. I can't believe that Christmas is only a few days away! Where did this month go... Anyway, I should go do the one thing that I have to do, since I have to do it.

Tonight's Writing Club

The prompt was to write a poem starting with the first line of an actual poem...

Sam I am
Sam I am?
Am I Sam?
That Sam I am…
Who’s Sam I am…
You’re Sam I am?
Is that his name—
SAM-I-AM?
If so, what a creepy name!
And yet, somehow, it got its fame
To name a kid that, is that your aim?
If so, that’s lame
Sam I am, I am, I am.
“Would you eat them in a box?
Would you eat them with a fox?”
Who’s this fox?
Where is this box?
Are there fun socks?
Such answers have yet to be attained.
What if this poor fox was stolen
From a neighbor whose throat was swollen
Stolen fox; swollen, swollen…
But this isn’t Seth, so never mind
I’m actually running out of time
Two minutes left, that’s all I have
That’s all I have, have, have, have, have
Nothing rhymes with have, so I’m done.
That Sam I Am.

Manana

If I could do the little squiggly line over the first "n", it would be spanish for "tomorrow" and not something that rhymes with banana. Why can't we use Spanish symbols, or Japanese for that matter? The thing with learning other languages is that you forget when the rules that you learned apply to your language, and when they apply somewhere else, which is why at first I didn't capitalize "Spanish", because in Spanish, such things aren't capitalized. They don't even have to capitalize the months! So when I'm writing in English, sometimes I incorporate the rules of whatever (little) languages I know, and it sounds like I'm a very confused person. Most of the time, it makes sense in my head, but since not everyone can live there, I'll have to... I'd say "try harder", but to me, "try harder" means "try". And that might be my rationalization for my horrible grammar/spelling. Although I do blame a lot of my spelling mistakes on subtitles, because a lot of the time, they use the British way of spelling things, so one day, I was talking to a friend of mine online, and I kept writing "practice" "practise", and after about 100 times of writing the word out, I was like, "That's so weird... how it's spelled with an "s"... that doesn't even look right." And she was like, "Um... it's practiCe, Charissa..." And I was incredibly embarrassed, and said, "I know, but in Britian, they spell it with an "S"... isn't that weird, how Britians do that? How they spell things differently... that's what I was saying. I wasn't saying I couldn't spell the word-- I was just saying, isn't it weird how it's still English, but it's spelled different-- if I were to spell it that way, it would be okay, if I were in England-- that's all I'm saying." But yeah... what an intro... the intro to tonight's blog wasn't going to be that long. I either talk to much (probably true) or I'm avoiding what I'm going to write about, which is probably true, too. First of all, it snowed again. Like, ACTUALLY snowed. I came out from work, and my car was covered in snow, and my wipers were still frozen to the windshield from yesterday, and I went 21 mph the entire way back to my apartment and haven't left since, because I really didn't want to drive in this. Last year as I was pulling into the road to get to my mom's apartment, the guy behind me skidded when he was trying to turn and hit another car coming out. I just remember turning left and all of a sudden I heard this big "POP!" which can only be described if you know what it sounds like when two cars really hit each other. Both people were fine, but they weren't even going that fast, and the stupid snow... A part of me really doesn't like this time of the year. I mean, it's Christmas time, and Christmas has been my favorite holiday since, a long time, but... I'm not used to talking about... anything, reall; well, that's not true-- I talk all the time about things that don't matter and I complain all the time, but I'm not used to actually talking about some things. Not because I don't want people to know about them, but because-- well, I'll just go out and say it; a lot of it sounds completely crazy, and I wouldn't expect anyone to believe me anyway, and partially because of how personal it is, and a lot more, so this might come out jumbled, and it probably won't just be because I've tried to learn 3 million languages (I still don't have English down). It was funny, one time at Wendy's, a new girl came in, and we were talking, and she said, "Oh yeah, I've heard about you. You're the genius. Everyone says that you're like, fluent in 5 languages." I just laughed and told her not to believe what she hears, because seriously, I have a hard time understanding myself, and I don't blame anyone not understanding me when I talk. But that's off the subject again... oh my gosh, I feel like Seth now when he told us that Brittney was pregnant-- going on and on and saying nothing... this week-- tomorrow exactly-- will be the 5 year anniversary of Tyler's death. How he died-- who he was, is a very, very long story, and not something that should be placed on a blog, even if I wanted to talk about those things (which that, I actually don't want to talk about). I can't begin to explain what that means to me. It's insane, really-- I mean, we were friends and all for a very, very long time. When I was a teenager, he was like, the only actual friend I had (before I met the Watsons). A friend that was just mine, not anyone else in my family. Everyone said that we were exactly alike, but he was sooooo much better than me. You know how we have the phrase "I did my good deed for the year"? Well after we did something, he would say, "We did our good deed for the second." And that might sound lame to you, but he wasn't lame. He really wasn't. He thought that we were always in debt to God for just being here, so if we helped someone else, it's not like He owed us something. I believed that, too-- I mean, as Mormons, we live by that. But it was... comforting to have him around. He was the only one that probably really understood me and still completely believed in me. I usually don't get both:). I'm not sure anyone does. We went to different colleges, and it's not like I was in love with him, or maybe I was-- it's so hard to tell, since I'm not really good at the whole boyfriend thing. But I loved him. I really, really loved him. Like he was a part of me. I know that happens when you pretty much grow up together, and I know it sounds like a cliche that "you never know what you have until it's gone", but when he died, I really thought that I died, too. It hit me in a way I didn't expect it to. Suddenly, all the things that I get to do that he doesn't. He'll never be a doctor, or get married, (okay, so there's a good chance that I'll never do those things, either). But it was sad to me. All the things he really wanted to do. I couldn't cry anymore. To this day, I have barely cried for one of my best friends. I couldn't laugh anymore. I couldn't feel that much. I felt like I was all numb inside. I really felt like the best part of me had died. Now I know that that's not true-- I'm still who I was then, I was just in shock, or mourning, or whatever... It was finals week, and I was in my apartment, and that song-- the Sarah McLaughlin "Angel" came on, and I just dropped to my knees and cried like that for the last time. On that show-- One Litre of Tears-- when the girl looks at everyone else and thinks, "That was me yesterday-- surely I'll never be able to laugh like that again." That was how I felt. I came home from BYU-Idaho because I thought my family needed me, and because I needed to have surgery, and because of something else that's actually really great but something that's too long to explain here (like, seriously-- I've only really explained it once and it took an hour). But I stayed home because of Tyler. I barely left my house for a year. I didn't want to be around people-- when I was in crowds, everything inside of my head seemed to scream "Get out of here!" to myself, like I was scared of people. But that's how it is when someone you love is suddenly gone for the rest of your life. People really don't understand it until it happens to them. I didn't think it would have that big of an impact on me. But I was obviously wrong. And yes, I'm an idiotic human, and I thought... I was really jealous. I wasn't mad at God for taking Tyler away... I know it wasn't like that... but I was a little mad that God knew we would be such great friends, and then suddenly I was alone. That's stupid, isn't it? I knew when I felt it that it was stupid. I was jealous of other people who seemed like they didn't have some of the things that I was facing in my life-- the people who could still laugh and cry and all of those things. I really missed him, though. There was one person who understood me; who knew all of my secrets, and then suddenly, I was alone. People began to annoy me a lot more-- before I was like, "Well, some people just never had a reason to grow up", but even if that's true, they annoy me now:). I hated snow before Tyler died, so that didn't really change:). You know something weird? I knew him from when I was 13 until I was 19, and I never had a dream with him in it that I can remember. Never until once after he died. And it was a creepy dream-- something about him in a straight jacket, and... yeah. Isn't that weird, though? I have dreams with my teachers in them-- people I don't even talk to. Strange. If I had the chance to have him here, right now, as a person in front of me, I would take it. But I've had a lot happen because of him being gone. For the first time, really, I had to stand on my own. Because it was like we were the same person-- I mean, I had an identity of myself, but I feel... more stable now. Like someone that other people could lean on. I feel... like Tyler. In that way, anyway. What he was to me, I feel like maybe I could someday be that for someone else. I miss him, though. I REALLY miss him. Sometimes it's not as bad, but then sometimes I really, REALLY do. Especially when there are things I can't explain-- when I wish I could just talk to him. Or when I see someone who reminds me of him. Last year on my myspace blog, I wrote how I thought it was finally getting a little easier-- how I think I could finally begin to remember him without feeling that pain. What did I write... :
"But I think finally now, I can start to be happy again. Start to mend again. Part of me wonders if I should feel guilty for this. But whenever I think of Tyler, I feel sad. I feel pain. Is it supposed to be like this? Is this really a good thing? Of course people mourn the loss of the ones they love, but what a cop out! All this time, thinking of how much I lost-- how much Tyler had to never have-- isn't that insulting? If it wasn't for Tyler, how would I have gotten through the last 10 years? His presence was an incredible blessing-- you have no idea-- and-- do you know what a gift I was given?! I hate to use the overused phrase "Tyler wouldn't want me to be sad", but Tyler wouldn't want me to be sad every time I think about him. I don't want to be sad every time I think about him. Instead of thinking how much I've lost, I should be thanking God that I ever knew Tyler Oakley! There should be gratitude and joy and good memories that aren't covered in some sort of sadness along with it. Can I really do that? I don't know. But I'm starting to beleive it might be possible. And I don't want to insult his memory by being sad every time I think of him anymore. How insulting is that to God, who gave me the chance to know him, anyway! I don't want to be that ungrateful. It's time to move on. It's time to be happy again. "
I think I was a lot stronger last year:). But I still feel this way. Maybe it's just because it's the 5th year anniversary, and soon we would have been apart for longer than we had known eachother, and 5 years sounds like a really big deal. And there is literally not an hour that goes by that I don't remember him, because he was my friend. And such a huge part of who I am today, and-- I feel like I should be doing something, but tomorrow's going to come, and... I'll go throughout my day. Which is why every year I have my own memorial for him. This is going to sound lame, too, but I write out whatever song best described my year and how it related to him. Last year's song was "photograph" by Nickelback (the kid version, because it's the only one that's clean). I love that song... I guess I'll close by writing the lyrics:

Look at this photograph
Everytime I do it makes me laugh
How did our eyes get so red
And what the heck is on Joey's head?
And this is where I grew up
I think the present owner fixed it up
I never knew we'd ever went without
The second floor is hard for sneaking out
And this is where I went to school
Most of the time had better things to do
School record says I was late twice
I must have done it half a dozen times
I wonder if it's too late
Should I go back and try to graduate
Life's better now then it was back then
If I was them I wouldn't let me in
Every memory of looking out the back door
I had the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye.
Every memory of walking out the front door
I found the photo of the friend that I was looking for
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye.
Remember the old arcade
Blew every dollar that we ever made
The cops hated us hangin' out
They say somebody went and burned it down
We used to listen to the radio
And sing along with every song we know
We said someday we'd find out how it feels
To sing to more than just the steering wheel
Kim's the first girl I kissed
I was so nervous that I nearly missed
She's had a couple of kids since then
I haven't seen her since... who knows when?
Every memory of looking out the back door
I had the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor
It's hard to say it, time to say itGoodbye, goodbye.
Every memory of walking out the front door
I found the photo of the friend that I was looking for
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye.
I miss that town; I miss the faces
You can't erase; You can't replace it
I miss it now-- I can't believe it
So hard to stay, Too hard to leave it
If I could I relive those days I know the one thing that would never change
Every memory of looking out the back door
I had the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye.
Every memory of walking out the front door
I found the photo of the friend that I was looking for
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye.
Look at this photograph
Everytime I do it makes me laugh
Everytime I do it makes me...

Maybe this makes no sense. But tomorrow I'll be thinking about Tyler Oakley. I probably misspelled a million things in this. But it's too long to proof read, so, sorry.

Ice

So, I woke up this morning and actually did my homework. And by that I mean study for my final. I studied-- can you believe it, I studied! I thought about going to sleep instead, but I didn't. Then I went out to my car, and it was ice. The entire world was. Just ice. I think all of the ice particles liked how cold my car usually is (except for now, thanks, Jordan!). So we played this game called, "Even though I can't find my scraper and won't be able to see, let's pretend to try to open the doors", but I think the ice knew that I was going to play this game, which is why it decided to form ice puddles right next to my doors so when I attempted to yank really hard, my "slip-resistant" shoes would give way and the ice won. Stupid ice! Stupid psychic ice. And it's supposed to be freezing for the next 10 days. This wasn't really supposed to be Charissa complaining time. That's for Wednesday...

The Escape from Whatever was Trying to Murder Us

Last night, I dreamt of a tornado. I dreamt that it was warmer outside than usual for this time of the year, so we had to call off the meteor shower, because of how bad the tornado/winds were, but the next day, we were playing in a park and the sun was setting, but it wasn't down yet, and the sky was still pretty blue, and we could see a few stars, and then we saw some meteors, even though it was only 5:00 or 6:00 at night.

For those of you whose name rhymes with Sean and couldn't be here on our adventure, or just in case there's anybody who somewhat cares about our day (but probably the former), tonight was the night of the big meteor shower. And it went like this:

We began by spending most of the day watching a show about people who get murdered in every episode-- sometimes more than once (and yes, that is possible in a show like Tru Calling-- I actually wanted to name, if I ever had a daughter, Tru, before I knew this show even existed-- how creepy is that...). And we watched it in the ghetto that is the location of my mom's house. So that was fun. Then, when it got dark enough, and when someone whose birthday is today got off of work, we all put on three layers of shirts and three pants so we'd be prepared physically to brace the extremes in weather. Did you know it's really hard to put on three pairs of pants? The first two ride up when you put the first one on, and the third one doesn't want to got over your hips. But miraculously, it was accomplished, and we all head out into the wilderness to brave the creatures of the night. Since we outvoted Audrey last time when we went stargazing at... our secret location... that's completely and totally encompassed with nothing but thick trees and woodland creatures-- we decided to go to Ross Ade Park and creep ourselves out and get eaten by coyotes. But I'd rather get eaten by coyotes than eaten by snakes. Anyway, yes, it was raining-- raining ice, actually, but we held onto the hope that since it was someone's birthday, and since it was supposed to be one of the most awesome meteor showers ever this year, we could go meteor shower searching, like we went star searching that one time. So, we finally, after driving through the creepy twisted woodland back roads, where I swear the deer were just waiting for us to approach them, we got to the place of our destination. We went there for the last meteor shower. We spent over an hour there at that meteor shower. I really don't remember a house ever being there. But there's this HUGE house that's lit up in a way I can only describe as having a huge spotlight RIGHT on it, as if trying to get Tokyo's attention or something. And they could probably see it, too. When I saw it, I got this spooky feeling, even though all I saw was a house in the middle of nowhere-- probably because it was a house in the middle of nowhere, and I don't remember there being a huge gigantic white house in the middle of nowhere the last time we parked 100 feet away from it. I'm sure it was there before, but none of us recognized it, and all of the sudden, I heard people in the car scream. "Let's go! Can we just forget this whole thing? AH!" And then the words that really worried me: Audrey herself saying, "I vote we go to ________ (our secret location she was dead set against). " When Audrey changes her mind about something like that, you know it's time to leave. "That house had a crucifix on it!" they said. "It looked like someone was right there waiting to kill us". I seriously don't remember that house, but there was a rope blocking off anything further, so we turned around and ran away screaming. It was actually fun. But then we went to ________ (insert secret location here), and waited a whole 5 minutes before we decided the ice that's raining down on us will probably make it impossible to even search for meteors. Too bad! But it was still fun, and it made people scream, and I'm pretty sure Morgan was about to throw up, so it was a good night. If I go back to that place, and the house isn't there, though, I'll NEVER go back to that park again. Seriously, how did I not realize there was a house right there... maybe the same way I can't figure out who Mui has a crush on...

Work

My work is... really boring sometimes. I have to read a lot of really boring things about therapy and kids and how deployment is hard on them, and did you know that deployment was hard on them? And deployment is hard on them... and after a while, it gets really, really boring. In fact, I fall asleep a lot. And some of the stuff I read is really creepy. But one day, I decided to write down all the creepy/funny/awkward things that I was reading so I could make fun of it later. So, here are a few of them:

Advice for teachers:
"Teachers can use separations and deployments to educate students in the areas of history, social sciences, and math, and can create an opportunity for students to discuss their feelings about war and deployment with their peers." Um... history, I understand... social sciences, I understand (isn't history in the social sciences?)-- but math?! What, is there a question that says, "If Capt. So and so is going to Iraq, and his plane leaves in 1 hour, and the average airplane goes 1000 miles an hor, and he flies over the Eifel Tower at 3:00 PM, and it is 11:30 now, what time will he reach Iraq? And as a side note, kids, how do you feel about war and deployment? Anyone?"

When talking about PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder): "PTSD is not a result of something the person wants or has chosen. In fact, we know that most people would not choose to have PTSD."

One of the manuals have a letter-- the first letter that a parent can send home to their kids-- get this-- it's fill in the blank. But first, here's how they preceded the letter: After saying how 85% of the soldiers in Iraq are shot at, they said, "Don't make any promises you won't keep. Relationships are built on trust-- be honest, even if it hurts. The purpose of a letter is to open honest communication. Let your children know you are safe and well so they can return to school without too much worry... (what happened to HONEST communication?)--
First Letter Home:( just one paragraph of it to be brief)
Dear ___________
There are lots of other military people here. We live together in (dorms, tents, apartments, etc). Mine is (description). We each have our own bed. I also have my own (computer, tv, VCR, stereo, etc). I have (lots, minimal, some) privacy and time to myself. I have ___ friends and they are __________. I participate in _______ for my activities."
Privacy AND time to myself... apparently those are two different things... well, I guess they kind of are...

Fears of Children ages 2-5:
Animals- snakes, rats, mice, insects, frogs, lizards
Natural disasters- fires, earthquakes, lightning, floods, thunderstorms
Physical harm- being wounded or seeing someone wounded, receiving shots, family member dying, having an operation, doctors, nurses, dentists
Threatening situations: being in the dark, the devil, monsters, being confined or locked up, seeing faces in the window, being kidnapped, ghosts, making mistakes

When I was reading this, I thought, "Ages 2-5? What if you're still afraid of these things at 24..."

They said the average preschool aged kid has 3 fears. I'd like to see how that study was conducted... They also said that adolescents have fewer fears than children have. I'm pretty sure... that wasn't me...

They said if your kids are scared, "try telling them that they are magic. The magic gives them a feeling of control". Yeah-- lie to them-- that will help them with their fears. I did learn some actually interesting things, though-- like the average kid hears 147,000 negative comments and only 3,000 positive ones growing up. And there's a guy whose last name is Ilg, and bamboo, when it's 4 years old, is only a stick in the ground, but underneath the ground, it has this incredible networking system of roots, and the next year, it reaches 80 feet tall. Now I want a bamboo tree.

Oh, and one more: "Will medication make children change their personality? No-- medication for depression can be compared to taking medicine for a horrible headache. Medication doesn't change who you are, but it takes away the headache." Apparently none of these people have met Cassie. Or any other person on anti-depressants.

It's still stupid...

I know this debate is like, 2 years old, but still-- what sense does it make for us to be an hour ahead of Chicago, yet the same time as New York City? It takes 3 hours to get to downtown-- 3 hours! It takes 12 hours to reach New York STATE. What sense does that make?! That's all I really have to say.

Rediscovery...

So, I discovered/rediscovered a few things today:

First, I really like mittens. I haven't worn mittens or even thought about mittens since I was like, 6, and I think I started to believe that they were extinct and that no one made them any more (except for boxing gloves), but they had two pairs for $1.49 at Target today. I was so excited! I wasn't as excited until I tried them on and realized how incomplete my life had been up to that moment. But even though it was only $1.49, I talked myself out of needing them, because Christmas is just around the corner, and the list of people I forget to put on the list grows bigger everyday. I'm like, "Yes, I think I'm done! Wait... oh no... that person I talk to every day... I haven't gotten them anything yet... how did I not get them anything yet?! How is it possible that they're not on my list?! What was I thinking when I made this list?!!!" So I think I'll save my money and just let my life be incomplete.

Second, I realized how differently I must see the world compared to other people. In my evil boring foods and nutrition class, the conversation went like this:
Teacher: Kids don't play outside anymore
Me: They'd be kidnapped
Teacher: Kids don't ride their bikes anymore
Me: They'd be kidnapped
Teacher: And instead of playing outside together, what do they do?
Me: Drugs!
Teacher: That's right-- video games! They play video games, which don't require a lot of movement.

I was just like, "...oh..."

Third: My headphones broke. Well, just one of them. So now I only have one headphone to listen to, which is still better than nothing, and at least now, I can hear cars if they're coming at me as I'm walking on campus.

Fourth: The doll I've had since I was 2's head fell off. I'm still trying to figure out how that happened. People reading this might think, "Well, it's 22 years old..." Technically, it's 24 years old. It was copyrighted in 1984. And usually things are copyrighted a year before, so it could be 25 years old. But it's not a kind of doll that you would think a head would fall off of. Especially without me noticing. One night it was fine. In the morning, it's head was not with the rest of the body. Creepy and weird... I'll have to sew it back on.

Since that was slightly disturbing, work. I came into my work today to hear 2 or 3 other people talking about me, not realizing I was there. I couldn't make out all of what was said, but from what I gather, apparently I called someone after work, and I couldn't do something, and I took blank note cards and hid them last week. Which makes no sense, because I'm pretty sure that as soon as I'm allowed to leave work, I'm out the door, since it's not something that I particularly like to do, and calling anyone work-related after I'm off would require effort, so that never happened, and I'm scared of their phones and I don't have everyone's phone numbers, so... And everything they give me to do, I do, so what the whole "we had to give it to someone else" thing was about, I'll never know. My work usually goes like this:
Them: So, Charissa, you busy?
Me: Yes, actually-- I'm working on a project for so and so.
Them: Oh, okay. Well, can you drop that project and work on the one I have for you?
Me: Um... sure.
Someone else: Charissa, are you busy?
Me: Yes, actually-- I'm doing two projects for so and so and so and so.
Someone else: Oh, well, can you drop that for like, an hour, so you can wrap these presents?
Me: .... wrap... the presents...
Someone else: Yeah.
Me:... Okay.

And I get it all done, so I don't know what they were talking about. Actually, in their whisperings, they also said, "I'm not sure, but I heard..." Or maybe I heard wrong, which is the more likely scenario, but I hallucinate that people are talking about me, usually it's only once, not three or more times. And as for the whole blank cards thing, last week was Thanksgiving-- the college was closed-- I wasn't allowed to come to work. Don't know how that worked...

Also, I rediscovered that I can't tell distances between objects, and have no sense of direction, even when it's on a piece of paper. For the second part of my oral Japanese final, they gave us a photograph of a family-- like, an actual photograph-- and asked us different things about locations. Photographs are weird, because what was in 3-D is now in 2-D, and I couldn't really tell if so and so was BEHIND a person or more to their left. Actually, I was still thinking, "These are people... this is a real picture" when my teacher was done asking me the first question. I looked up at her and thought, "I wasn't even listening. I was too busy being creeped out about 2-D pictures to listen..." So I guessed at what she said, and that worked pretty well. Then she asked who was behind so and so, and I was like, "um... is that really behind..." And I choked, and called a dog a cat, and then I was like, "That's stupid! I've known inu since I was born..." Not really, but maybe pretty close-- not that I knew a lot of Japanese, but what little my dad has taught me, I pretty much choked on, and kind of hurried through the rest of it. So moral of the story-- I can't tell directions, and I'm a horrible oral test taker. And that's all I really have to say, since it's after midnight, and I really should study for my final.

Writing Club- December 2, 2008

So, for this prompt, we looked up a random abstract photo online and then wrote a story about what it was. Here's mine...

It’s the guy that Mui likes. I know it is. Yes it is. It’s the history of his past. It’s all contained in that giant sphere-like bubble in space. Everyone has a giant sphere-like bubble in space. This happens to be his.
My giant sphere-like bubble in space is prettier than this one. But that’s not the point of this rambling. The point of this rambling is Mui's crush’s past. Every Phantom can see the past, as long as they know which sphere-like bubble to look in. Shean just happened to find MC’s. Shean might be psychic, too. I tried looking into Mui's giant sphere-like bubble, but she hid it. Xavier probably wouldn’t let me look in it, anyway. He’s clouding the entire thing. But it doesn’t matter, since after I look into this giant sphere-like bubble, I will be able to ascertain who exactly is Mui’s crush. It scares me that I have this much power. Does it scare you? It shouldn’t. I only use this power for good. And for my own selfish reasons, such as now… when a friend’s trying to keep something a secret from you, you have to not rest until you’ve figured it out. And now here it is. Shean, thank-you. Thank-you for being psychic, or being extremely coincidental. Or maybe this was just meant to be… I think we were meant to know. It’s such a unique giant sphere-like bubble in space. There’s a lot of mystery surrounding it. This definitely isn’t Amanda’s giant sphere-like bubble. I’ve seen hers—it has barbed wire gates around it and this black hole sucking anyone who makes it past the “GO AWAY!!!” signs into…. Wherever black holes take you. Good thing I’m psychic and didn’t have to go all the way to her black hole fortified sphere-like thingy. I would have been taken away.
I have a theory, about white holes. They exist, you know. I’m not talking about the theoretical ones in astrophysics where they’re the time-reversal of black holes. I didn’t even know that theory existed until I was looking it up. What a creepy theory! Really? Black holes and the past? Probably not. I think black holes are just a giant magnetic force that creates gravity and sucks everything to it and then crushes it. White holes are supposed to be the opposite of black holes—instead of sucking everything in, they’re supposed to be throwing everything out—all the material that’s in space. I think a black hole becomes a white hole after it sucks too much material in and then throws it all back out. But I’m not a scientist. Actually, I always got a “C” in science. I hated science growing up. Especially chemistry. I didn’t even bother taking physics. So my theory probably doesn’t make any sense.
Oh yeah—Mui’s crush… the mystery surrounding it… AH! I ran out of time! Now I won’t be able to tell who Mui’s crush is, yet again. After all fate did to give Mui’s crush’s giant sphere-like bubble in space to me… oh well. Since it’s meant to be, I’ll have that opportunity again. Hey, did you know that the Watson’s bathroom is also soundproof? You can go in and yell any name that you might want to, and no one would ever hear it. Why doesn’t someone try it now… someone random… let me choose randomly… how about, since Aaron was sitting on my left, whoever was sitting on his left. Who would that be… whoever that is, they should try the Watson’s amazing soundproof bathroom.


And by the way-- Cassie is my best friend.

Realization

So, I've learned that when you DON'T procrastinate, things are easier. But that won't change anything. I'll still most likely procrastinate. I've always actually known that things are easier when you don't procrastinate. To a certain extent, anyway. See, I'm one of those people that sometimes has to do the entire project at once in order to do it right. If I break it up, then I'll have to go back and figure out why I left off where I did, and then it takes even longer. You know what I hate? When people say "You shouldn't procrastinate, Charissa! Procrastination is of the devil!!!" First of all, it only says procrastination of repentance is of the devil, and while it might not be the smartest thing in all cases, I doubt that me not doing my project until the week it's due (okay, the night before) is going to put my eternal... ness factor on the line. I could be wrong, but I think all it will do is stress me out. This is me procrastinating sleep. Tomorrow's my last day with my preschoolers (I hope! Not that I don't like them-- I just don't like having an early class that lasts 3 hours). And that's the extent of my blog and procrastination.