As per a suggestion from Rachel, I made myself Stir-Fry tonight for dinner. It was vegetarian though; chicken still intimidates me slightly (plus it's all frozen solid and I'm not really sure how to make it not so) and I didn't think ground hamburger would go well.

I have a George Foreman grill though. I think I'll experiment with chicken breast on that tomorrow. Maybe make some green beans with it.


I also started working at the bookstore again today. Students come in, give me their ID, and I go find a box full of books with their name on it. It kind of scares me how much I enjoy mechanical, repetitive tasks. From about noon to 5pm there was a constant line out the door, and I was quite content to find the box, check the contents, notify about back orders, give instructions on returns, repeat. It was mindless, I felt like a book drone, and I liked it.
I think it's the OCD in me though. I've always likes counting things, organizing things. I've said before that the perfect job for me would be if people lined up in front of me with their containers of spare change, dumped them on the floor, and said "Count that." I'd put all the coins in the rolls, and make sure the rolls got stacked up in little pyramids. It's methodical and calming.

I live across the street from a bunch of boys that live on the bottom floor of a cute little duplex. They have a backyard, which I'm jealous about. From my room on the third floor I have a great view of their front porch.
It looks like they are setting up for a wild, drunken party tonight. If I was brave and not so painfully socially awkward, I would go over there and try to act like I belonged somewhere in this city.

I never thought about it till Droo mentioned it the other night, but for as long as I can remember I've been looking forward to some future event. Whenever I reach that event, I don't celebrate it, I just look forward again. I always see what I'm doing as a means to an end.
So I have to try really hard this year to enjoy myself now, in the present. I really have to try to see being away at college something I am doing for myself, and take the time to enjoy myself and have fun here. Not just see this as something I have to deal with and get through for 4 more years until I can get to the next step of where I want to be.

I just realized I can make myself a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch tomorrow, AND I have salsa to put on it. :D I am now very excited for lunch tomorrow.

real food

Last night I made Hambuger Helper. Not only did it taste good, but I am still alive to type this, which means I did not give myself food poisoning either.

My plan is always to stay busy while I'm in Milwaukee. The last week I've been going right when I get up in the morning (around 8am) and not stopping until I get home at night (around 11pm). Working with the soccer boys is very good at keeping me distracted; they are a needy bunch.
If I'm busy, I'm distracted.
If I'm distracted, I'm not thinking about anything but NOW.
If I'm not thinking of anything but NOW, I'm not thinking about anything else.
If I'm not thinking of anything else, I'm not thinking of home.
If I'm not thinking of home, I'm not thinking of Droo.
If I'm not thinking of Droo, I don't process that it's been a week since I have seen him.
If I don't process not seeing him, I don't think about miss him as much.
If I don't think about missing him, it doesn't hurt.

New year

Unloading

Disaster Area

It was so freaking hot.

This is my favorite thing in my house. Yep. A wire kitchen rack I'm using as a pantry.

But after three days my dad and I finally made my apartment.

Despite being so hot I think I'm going to melt for most of the day, I'm really enjoying having my own apartment. It still seems empty though, which I think is due to a lack of TV and an abundance of white space on the walls. I get to go crazy at the poster sale this year, which should help brighten the place up. I'd like to start coloring my marker posters again, I just need to find time to do it.

One week

It's not that I don't want to go back to school.
I like my classes, my classmates, my professors, my teams, and I love my major. I am SO EXCITED to be working with the men's soccer team next year. Lauren Boyler is going to teach us so much! Not only about how to treat an injury, but how to really be passionate about Athletic Training and how to become the person your athletes turn to first about medical advice (and regular advice).
I think (and hope!!) that working at Hand and Ortho this summer has helped me come out of my shell a bit. Next semester I'm going to really work on not being shy. It's pretty impossible to be quiet with men's soccer though, so that should help too.

It's not that I don't want to go to Milwaukee.
I mean, it's not my favorite place, but it's slowly becoming tolerable. I've accepted it is something I shouldn't waste my time worrying or stressing about. Marquette is in Milwaukee, and therefore I have to be there, like it or not. So I might as well try to enjoy what I can of it.
I'm very much looking forward to having my own place, decorating (or not decorating it) how I want, and not having a roommate. I'm looking forward to The Adventure Of Cooking, and putting up pictures of what delicious things I come up with (and any disasters).

I just don't want to leave.

BABY

Good news: My cousin Nathan and his wife Jen just found out they are going to have a (SURPRISE) baby! I really hope my Great-Grandma Dee continues to have the "I'm a gran, I'll live forever," mindset; cause for some reason I always wanted her to live long enough to be a Great-Great-Grandma.

Bad News: They just moved to Las Vegas so Jen could go to grad school at UNLV, so I might not get to meet my new cousin until he/she is at least 3. I hope Jen doesn't have to take too much time off of school, she was so excited to go.

And for my own selfish reasons, I hope they have whatever Matt and Jill don't. Then I will have the flower girl and ring bearer set for my wedding. :P

I am very proud that I was related to my Grandma Shirley.
I'm proud it was her that I inherited my "No one is going to tell me what I can and cannot do" attitude from her.
When we were at their house for Christmas Eve, Drew said he wouldn't have even known that she had arthritis unless I had told him. My Grandma was never a complainer, never let anyone feel sorry for her. She never let the fusing of the bones in her wrists bother her, never let anyone or anything control her.
I never once saw my Grandma smoke, nor did I ever see a trace of it in her house. But the smell of her cigarettes was the only smoke smell I could stand, because I didn't know it was smoke until I was about 14. I always thought that, mixed with Beautiful perfume, was just how my Grandma smelled.
When they put her in the hospice the first time, she decided that she still had things to do and that she wasn't going to die just yet. The two weeks she was back home she had to be on 8 liters of oxygen an hour, and she called the hose that connected her to the unit that was plugged into the wall her "leash." The doctor told her not to go into the kitchen when the oven was on, and we joked about her going in there anyway (cause Gramps can't cook to save his live) and blowing up.
I saw her without makeup one once my entire life; two weeks ago when we went to see her in the hospice. She refused to let my brother, sister, and I know how sick she was. She just made jokes about why she seemed so confused, "This cancer shit must have gotten to my brain. Or maybe it's the drugs, they've got me just looped up and high as a kite on morphine you know." But it was ok, cause she said the morphine made her rheumatoid arthritis pain go away, and her hands didn't hurt for the first time in years.
The hardest thing so far was yesterday, when I went golfing with my aunt, uncle, and dad. While my dad and his sister were in the bathrooms, my uncle asked me if I'd gone to see my grandma since the two weeks before. When I said that I hadn't, he looked at me sadly and just said, "Don't."

She hasn't been gone even 12 hours and I already keep thinking I see her. Not how she looked the last few weeks, but my Grandma Shirley from 10 or 15 years ago. When she was still running around getting her nails and hair done, picking us up, playing "This little piggy," on our toes after we had an Epic Bubble Bath (she did not limit the amount of soap we poured in and would let the bubbles come up to our chins), and sassing everyone at her work into buying my Girl Scout cookies.

There's no anger about this. No blame. No why did this happen. My grandma smoked for 50+ years. She didn't stop after she got and defeated (more like round house kicked in the face) breast cancer 15 years ago. She smoked after they took out the tumors and her lymph nodes. She had no melanocytes or leukocytes or machrophages to eat the cancer cells that sprouted in her lungs and moved to her liver.
There's just slight confusion and amazement. How she could go from JUST FUCKING FINE at Christmas, to not feeling well in April, to in the hospice two months later, to back home feeling better, then down hill so fast she was gone two weeks after that.

My poor Gramps is going to die of a broken heart.

This is the first death I've ever experienced. I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do.

I want...

I want...

My ankle to stop hurting. I want Lisa to be here so she can distract the joint, release the gas buildup in the synovial fluid of the talocrural joint. I want the pain to stop radiating up to my knee and hip.

To run. I want my plantar fascia, IT Bands, and soleuses to stop being so tight. I want to be able to run 10 miles again, without worrying about the bone-on-bone contact of my left knee. I want to stop having to worry about my body falling apart and arthritis when I am 25 years old.

My computer to stop asking me if I want to update iphoto.

To speed up the next three years.
I want to be living with Drew already. I want to be able to fall asleep with him curled around my side, burrowed under my arm, fingers entwined with mine every night - not just for an hour or until I have to leave. I want to fall asleep comfortable, instead sleeping alone in my big empty bed. I want to wake up on my own side of the mattress in the morning because we both got warm while we slept.
I want a big house, with big open colorful rooms, and lots of windows. I want a giant porch that wraps halfway around the house, and I want a swing on that porch. I want a garden full of vegetables, a cherry tree, and raspberry bushes. I want a pond with a waterfall in my backyard; or at least a fountain that looks like one.
I want at least two dogs at all times.
I want to eat candle-lit dinners with fancy table cloths on impulse. I want to take candle-lit bubbles baths at least twice a week.

It to be not so hot in my room.

To be in Montana already. I want to get up early and ride my bike to Lake Como as the sun comes up, and get back to the house just in time for breakfast. I want to speed around on the four wheeler and forget real life exists. I want to wander around the house and put my hands on the smooth, polished log walls and think about how absolutely beautiful the house is. I want to sneak away to catch frogs and shoot soda cans with the boys. I want to sit out on the front porch and watch the sun go down. I want to sit out on the back porch and listen to stories. I want to stay up late, drink red wine from coffee mugs, play board games, and learn people's secrets.

To figure out what being 20 means. I want to know if I'm an adult or not. In so many ways I feel like I'm ready to be a grown up, ready to take on whatever that means. Yet at the same time I feel like I am no where near ready to stop being Steve and Peggy's kid, not ready to stop living in my parents' basement in the summer, and not ready to stop living under their rules.

To know how to dance. Like classical ballet, so I could look as beautiful as I do in my head when I listen to Beethoven. Or perhaps something modern, so I could make myself look as sexy as I do in my mind when I listen to Teeth by Lady Gaga.

I want to be able to sleep.