Lulz ... what?
When did THIS happen?
durrrrrrrrrr..........

I like that I save $0.15 every time I go shopping JUST BECAUSE I have reusable bags.
Today was the first time I've done a full-on grocery shop (milk, fruit, eggs, bread, salsa, vegetables, rice, beans, tea) by myself; usually David and I go on Saturdays. Taking the bus with three full, heavy bags of groceries was not the funnest things I've ever done, but I'm glad to know that I CAN do it, if need be. Plus, it was worth like, 45 adult points.

Adult Points.
Over the past two and a half years I've been awarding myself them for certain things I do that would qualify me as an adult: doing my own laundry, living away from home, setting up my own doctor appointments, paying rent, cooking, figuring out how to get that stain out of my shirt, things of that nature. Yesterday I gave myself like 300 or so points when we were delayed so long in Salt Lake I missed my connecting flight in Minneapolis, and I DID NOT FREAK OUT, I just figured out who to talk to and how to get on the next flight.

I think the idea came from a point system we developed when my sister was very small. We were on a long car ride (for a two year old anyway) and my mom offered me 20 points to entertain her. Hurray points! Everyone wants points right? So my brother and I started giving my sister 5 points for not being annoying or giving points to each other for doing a favor. Eventually, we asked my mom what we were supposed to actually do with these points she arbitrarily started giving out one day. Her response? "I dunno. Trade them for new underwear and socks."
If there is one thing we love in my family, it's new fucking socks.
Thus the birth of points.
Random, I know.

Usually, I am adiment that there are NO CHRISTMAS SONGS until after Thanksgiving. However, I have decided that I must to dance to Stille Nacht with Drew at our wedding. Not the first song we dance to, that will be If I Ever Leave This World Alive, just after I finish dancing with my dad to Rod Stewart's Forever Young. I want this song to play towards the end of the night, when just about everyone has gone home except for our very best of friends.
And I don't care when we get married, whether it is May or December or October. I will make an exception for this song.
And that means a lot.

I want to make pulled pork again. It makes my house smell SO GOOD.

It's not Milwaukee I dread coming back to anymore. I just dread leaving Drew, who comes with an overwhelming feeling of rightness when I'm laying in his arms.
Being away from him is my regular life, my normal life. Which I can do, obviously, I've been doing it for the past three years. I know I can handle being away from him for the next four, probably five years (I've decided to do a residency after I graduate to specialize in orthopedics or sport rehab). I just don't like it.

Thanksgiving is over, so you know what that means?
Mannheim Steamroller's Christmas album.
On repeat in my apartment.
For the next three weeks.
Alright.

They have two versions of God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen on the CD, one right after the other, and it's BEAUTIFUL. The first is predominantly a light, airy piccolo; and the second is a synthesized, trumpeting, drumming loud thing.
I don't think I've ever heard a version of that song I don't like. Barenaked Ladies has a particularly wonderful version of it, which happens to be the only holiday I find acceptable to be played before Thanksgiving, it's that good.

I should have done more homework over break. I should have done A LOT more homework over break actually. I should do it now... But disk 4 of season 3 of Dexter was waiting in my mailbox for me.

Silent Night is another one of those songs I will always like almost any version of.
But I only like Christmas music without words, only instrumentals.

wanna go home...

I'm thinking that next Sunday is going to be a major grocery shopping day. Or I could continue to live off cans of green beans, soup, and pancakes; one of the two.

Nutrition is standing in the way of me going home tonight, I get the feeling I will be pouting the whole time and not paying any attention. Who holds class from 5-7pm anyway?
Marquette, apparently.

In 24 hours I will [hopefully] be on a plane, or at least in line to board the plane. Assuming the doom weather everyone is talking about doesn't get in the way. Right now there are blue skies and little wind, it better stay that way until tomorrow morning.
My biggest fear about flying to and from school is that I will get stuck in Minneapolis. At least if I get stuck in Milwaukee I have a place to go back to now. More than one place actually. Probably at least four.

I should be studying for Human Physiology.

Just after I had said I wanted my religion paper to write itself, I found THIS on one of our library's databases. I haven't read it yet, but Isaiah 65:17-25 is what I'm supposed to be writing my paper on, so it's a set in the right direction yes?
I figured out why it's so hard for me to write this paper right now: It's not due for another 3 weeks, and there are SO MANY OTHER THINGS I could be doing that would be a more productive use of my time. Like studying for my Human Physiology test, like studying for my Therapeutic Exercises practical next Thursday, like working on my Ther. Ex. project which is about pubic rami stress fractures, like studying for my physics quiz, like figuring out an Upper-Extremity case study for my Proficiencies class, like fucking ANYTHING ELSE BUT RESEARCHING THE PROPHETS IN THE ISRAELITE COMMUNITY FROM 500 BCE.

My religion paper just needs to write itself.

One of my soccer boys let me borrow a series he has from the Discovery Channel that is all about how the human body works when pushed to the extreme. There was an episode about strength, sensation (mostly that of pain), and brain power. So far I've liked brain power the most, it talked mostly about the survival instinct we have, the brain's WANT center (as in, "I want to live"), how the brain will release hormones that eat the heart to keep itself going, and sleep.
The general science behind it was pretty obvious to me, but I did learn a bunch of Fun Facts!

For example:
*In non-life threatening situations, your muscles will contract with about 1/3 the force they are actually capable of producing, even if you feel you are working at the maximum. This is because a muscle contracting at 100% of it's capability will shread itself and cause an avlusion fracture - which is when a muscle pulls so hard the bit of bone it is embedded into is pulled off the main bone.
*It takes over 200 muscles to walk, and it is one of the most complex motions the human body is capable of.
*There is over 54,000 MILES of blood vessels in your brain.
*Pain is not produced by an injury, all sensations of pain are produced in the brain, due to how the brain processes an injury. In life-threatening instances, the brain can completely shut down all sensation of pain if it thinks that consciously being aware of the pain will reduce your chance of survival.
*The brain has an input of about 100 TRILLION thoughts/signals per second. It is only while sleeping and there is no longer this constant input that your actually process it, which is one theory behind dreams.

I could go on...

OH!
And because I didn't buy groceries for the two days I will be here next week, my grocery bill was $0.06 this week. I has a coupon for a dollar off dish soap, which was already on sale for a dollar. Awesome.

We made a Gingerbread House and talked about our alter-egos.
What fun!

cold

Fuck you windchill.
I am aware that by Milwaukee standards, -9 degrees is not that much, but when it is the difference between above and below freezing, you notice.

blarg?

Dear Self,
Organize your shit.


I got mail from Jill today. That was nice.

oh genetics

When I would lay in bed crying as a child because my ankles hurt so bad, everyone thought it was because I was growing.
When I was in high school and the same exact aching, uncomfortable, pressure/pain started in my hips, I chalked it up to being a year-round athlete with no off season and having tight hip-flexors.
When my wrists started feeling tight and like they just needed to pop like a knuckle, I thought it was because of how much time I spent taking notes in school or typing on the computer. By this time, I had accepted that sometimes my hips and ankles hurt so bad I feel radiating pain all up and down my leg, I can't get comfortable, and sometimes I will still lie in bed at three AM crying and writhing around because it hurts so bad. I thought this was normal, and for me it was, I'd felt like this as long as I could remember.
When I felt pain creep deep into my shoulder joint I started to worry. I started talking to my professors who told me to monitor the pain, and control it with Ibuprofen when it got bad. I didn't take anything though. Taking enough pain killers to keep a pain at bay that shows up 3-4 times a week for the whole day is too many pills
When my elbow started to ache on Monday I knew something was wrong.

So I went to see Dr. Grove at Student Health, who, if you remember, is one of the team physicians for Marquette and is the one who looked at my knee last winter. I like the guy. :)
He asked questions, more questions, and tried to reproduce the pain. He was impressed with how my Glut Med strength has improved (which he told me to work on for my knee) and congratulated me on starting to swim instead of try to run everyday. He laughed at the complete and total lack of motion in my feet, and noted that I have good external rotation of my left hip but not the right.
He said that everything about my pain leads him to believe that I have rheumatoid arthritis, and I should get blood work done.

So here you see my prescription for a blood draw and one, two, three, four, five, six, SEVEN different tests to see how my white blood cells and immune factors are doing. I need to get a hold of my mom so she can make me an appointment while I'm home for Thanksgiving, because getting my blood drawn at home will be much cheaper than on campus.

Also, AJ Grove's first name is actually Andrew. That pushed the count of Andrews I know up to...nine.

Post 300

I like the short one in back.

Last night I went to the gym, as usual. I put my class ring and diamond ring in the locker with my keys and coat, like always. When I was done working out, my rings were gone. I thought to myself, "Maybe you took them off and left them on the bathroom counter," which is what I do when I remember to take them off before I leave. So I went home and tore apart my place, but obviously my rings were not there. I went back to the gym, asked the desk about Lost-and-Found, and was presented with my class ring. Ok. So now at least I know where my other ring SHOULD BE. They told to check back in the morning to see if my other ring turns up.
Sure the beautiful ring Drew gave me was gone forever I pouted at the library for two hours while pretending to study physics and drink tea. I went home, had a melt down over how stupid I was to lose that ring and then have someone steal it.

I went back to the rec this morning AND THEY HAD MY RING!

My faith in the human race has been restored slightly.

Now I can't decide if I'm never going to take my rings off again, or if I'm going to put them in a drawer in my bathroom where I keep the change I find and never wear them again.

I work out obsessively everyday because, sometimes, fried potato slices sound like a good idea for dinner.

Who has the best boyfriend ever?
*I* have the best boyfriend ever!

It's the little things that make me realize this; not the diamond necklace or the beautiful ring on my finger. But when he said "Well why don't you just change my Netflix to your address? Then you can finish watching Dexter," with no regard to the list he had built up for himself, THAT'S when I know it's love.

Dear Self,
For future reference, when the two people you make dinner for each bring over a bottle of wine and expect you to drink more than your share, because you are "so happy when you are drunk," make sure you do the dishes BEFORE your second glass of wine. If you don't do the dishes, you are so busy being told to "be happy" and being laughed at for the ridiculous smile on your face that you forget about the dishes in the sink. No one likes waking up to dirty dishes.

When the zombies come, I'm stealing this truck, and two people from the ROTC program who know how to shot well, and we are high-tailing it to Boots and Betty's house in Montana.

See you there!

Munch Munch Munch

I think this picture is sufficiently self-explanatory.

Well now. I certainly did not expect THAT to happen.
Sigh. And things had been going so well in the kitchen too. I guess this is what I get for bragging about my culinary skills lately.
Really, I should have known not to leave glass right next to an open-flame burner set on high. I should have thought about how letting the glass get that hot might cause all the bonds to store up so much energy they had no choice but to break.
I'll have to be more careful around glass from now on. I broke a cup two days ago while I was washing it (I think it cracked on the way here) and who knows what #3 is going to be. A window? My bathroom mirror?

...My veggie stir-fry turned out really good though ^.^

I made fajitas for dinner.
They were good.

I am content right now.
With everything.

Yesterday while I was realizing that I don't actually HAVE to put time and energy into finding things to be miserable about in Milwaukee I realized that it's pointless to be miserable about things at all. Sure, I can be sad sometimes, and that is ok. But there is no need to go out of my way to find things that makes me sad.
The moment I thought this, the part of me that is still 15 years old and angry and emo and angsty and a shithead; the part of me that I have been so desperately clinging onto for the past 5 years just... fell away.
There have been times since I got to college were I've looked in the mirror and been surprised at the adult looking back at me, but over the course of the week I've changed. I now look in the mirror and see a confident, intelligent, competent, young woman who is capable of living on her own. I know I'm not a full or real adult yet, nor will I consider myself one until I have graduated college, I have a career, and my parents are no longer paying my rent; but at the same time that no longer seems like a great huge long ways away. It seems like something that will be attained in the next few years and THAT DOES NOT SCARE ME ANY MORE.

I think everyone is going to like the new me.
She is so happy.

This picture was taken at 4:30pm.
That would be the sun, doing down, in the middle of the afternoon.
Being this far north of the equator does weird things to the sun. Like, even at noon, the sun isn't directly overhead, but it's it's off at like a 20* angle south. Which makes sense, really. I remember my brother's first two years in college while I was still in high school. He was up in Spokane, Washington and would complain about how early the sun would set. I didn't get it until I found myself on roughly the same longitude as he was.

Jill recently posted a blog about who made her life worth living, and it got me to thinking about how I would answer that. And I thought about it for a couple of days and this is what I came up with:
1) One of our post-surgery soccer guys. Every single time he is done with rehab, he'll walk over, look me in the eye, and say, "Michelle, thank you for your help today." It doesn't matter if I went though every single one of his exercises with him; did his joint mobilizations; watched his gait re-training; and just smiled as he cussed me out while I did soft-tissue mobilizations (read: very painful deep tissue massage to get rid of all the knots and scar tissue in his quads, IT band, hamstring, and groin) then apologized for his language and told me to listen to his actions, not his words when I was done. It doesn't matter if all I do is throw a bag of ice across the athletic training room at his face when he's doing with his rehab. He thanks me, sincerely, every day.

2) A freshmen this year who looks so much like Drew, but with brown hair, I can't help but hope our children look as adorable as him; and who I therefore have a intense maternal protective instinct for. Sometime in September, he walked into the training room, came to me, and asked if I could take a look at his ankle, which he rolled the previous day in practice. So I did an eval on his ankle, and it was simply a grade 1 ankle sprain (grade 1 = nothing torn, just some ligaments stretched). I explained everything that had happened, and that if we just tape it up he should be fine for practice, which I then did. For about two weeks, he would come into the training room, come straight to me, and let me know how his ankle was doing. He would tell me how awesome the tape job I did was (half regular athletic tape and half of a more flexible tape that most of the soccer team prefers to all athletic tape) and if any one else offered to tape his ankle, he would politely refuse and ask me to do it.

3) Another post-surgery knee guy. He comes into rehab every day smiling, and never complains about anything. He's always asking questions about his knee, his ankle, his hips, his cells, why scar tissue is building up, why there is still swelling, why his muscles have shrunk so much, how his PCL graft works because it was a cadaver-graft, how his body processes energy, how come he can't flex his knee more. And I love that he asks questions everyday. I love that he asks me why I'm doing Athletic Training and Physical Therapy, and asks what he, as an Exercise Science undergrad should go to Grad School for.

4) The freshmen who looked at me like I was a god after I helped them stretch out a tight groin/hamstring/calf/back/quad.

I'm so glad I got to work with Men's Soccer this year. It was such a good experience for me to realize that, Yes, Athletic Training and Physical Therapy ARE what I want to do for the rest of my life, and being able to help these guys brings me such a sense of joy and belonging.
I can't wait until this is my life. I get to do it almost every day now, but I have to time it around classes and my fellow ATS's schedules. How awesome will it be when I get to this on my own time, and not have to worry about the Physics test I have on Thursday? Very awesome. Oh, and they will pay me to do it, which is also pretty cool.

Did you know that Milwaukee is the most segregated city in the US?
Did you know that I've come to the conclusion that if I lived in the white, middle class part of the city, I would be happier?
Did you know, it's because my apartment would be nicer, the grocery store would have a better produce section, and I wouldn't worry about getting mugged while I waited for the bus at night?
Did you know that walking out of my building and seeing shit like this doesn't actually make me like the part of town I live in?


Why are all the nice Catholic/Private Universities in the bad part of town? Marquette is, Gonzaga is, Seattle University is.

Today the grocery bill only came to $17 so I decided to splurge and buy myself a treat.
Would ice cream have been better? Certainly.
However, the peanuts contain essential fatty acids, like Omaga-3, that I know I am not getting in my regular diet. Ice cream just contains fat.
And as I am going to Hawaii in less than two months I would like to wear a bikini to the beach. This is something I haven't felt confident enough with my body to do in the last 4 years or so. (which is surely ridiculous, I know). I just don't really like showing that much skin on my hips, that's all.

Maybe once I learn some self-control I can buy ice cream.

Last Saturday, I was at the grocery store, and the cheapest from of lettuce was collard greens. So, obviously, I bought that instead of regular roman lettuce.
Well, it turns out that collard greens just by themselves are really fucking gross.
But I'm not going to throw away food that isn't bad, and collard greens are supposed to be really good for you anyway. I let it sit in the bottom drawer of my fridge for a few days while I tried to figure out what to do with it.
Then I remembered Coach B telling us how much he liked cabbage soup, because he ate it all the time as "a lad." (Coach B is from England). But in America, we call English Cabbage COLLARD GREENS. I figured I could try to fly on my coat-tails again and make more delicious soup.

And I did! :)
Just cut up all the greens into big and small chunks, cut up some carrots, some onion, and put it all in a pot with some water. Added a pinch of salt and a sprinkle of pepper, generous amounts of garlic powder, threw in some chile powder and some dried basil. Let it boil until the greens were soft and and the carrots soft-ish.


Just for fun, collard greens go from a really cloudy green when raw to a really nice vibrant green when cooked.

I have a ten-page religion paper to write. I have no idea how I'm going to do this. I'm not worried about time, it's not due for three weeks, but how on earth am I going to come up with TEN PAGES OF RELIGION?!?

I went over to Lita's house tonight and made mini-muffins with her.
Then we ate every single one of them.

Then I went to a beginning hip-hop class with her. Now I can say I "Tried Something New" while in college; I took a dance class.
It just made me feel big, clumsy, awkward, inflexible, slow, and thick.
So while in college, I found I don't really like to dance, but I new that already.
Dancing with Drew would probably be a different story though.

Woo COLLEGE!

This is what I made myself for breakfast today. It was in an effort to use up the potatoes I have before they go bad and prove to myself that I'm not hungover.
Wait... hungover? That's right!

Today is my good friend Nichole's 21st birthday, so last night was the party at her house (for those of us who are not 21 yet) before she went out to the bar on campus. So I was there, obviously, and Nichole told me that for her birthday, she would like to see what I was like drunk.

And I thought the same thing.
And I thought about how I have class at 8am on Wednesday.
And I thought about how I like to follow the rules, and the rules are no drinking till you are 21.
And I thought about how Drew is uncomfortable with the idea of me drinking if he's not around to take care of me.
And I thought about talking to Drew about things I NEED to do while I'm in college, things I need to do now while I still can.
And I thought about my List of Things to do in College.
And I thought about how there is a time and place for everything, and it IS called college.
And I thought about how tired I am of being "the responsible one" ALL THE TIME.

And so I looked at Nicole and said, "I need a drink."

I learned how to take a shot, and we all learned that when you make jello shots, make sure the containers you put them in are not hard plastic. Hard plastic shot glasses are hard to get jello out of, and they break easily.
I met her roommate who goes to UWM, and I met all the boys her roommate brought to the party. I liked them, they kind of reminded me of my brother, Marl, Drew, Jonah, and Flight of the Concords all mixed together - but louder. One of them made me a delicious drink of Orange Juice and vodka, and another one of them did card magic tricks in the kitchen.

But the best part was that I knew four out of fifteen people there, and I didn't freak out. I didn't try to hid in Nichole's room the whole time, or sit in the corner and stare. I talked in weird accents with boys I didn't know, and then discussed our plans for the Zombie Apocalypse. I enjoyed myself. It was great!
It made Nichole happy that I was a smiley drunk, and that was the point of the whole thing, so that was good.

In retrospect, I probably should have drank slower, or not as much, or at least waited until I felt the first tequila shot (gotta toast the birthday girl at the beginning of the party!) before reaching for a jello shot, and then eating another when told "Drink!" by one of the UWM boys. (which was a game. You were handed a jello shot and told to get it all out of the plastic container without using your fingers or breaking it. Ready? Drink!)
David and I left the party around 11:30 and sat at my place waiting for him to be able to drive home and waiting for me to not be drunk enough to go to sleep and wake up with a hang over. I drank a Nalgene and a half of water, and we talked about how hot he thought Nichole looked in the dress she was wearing for the party. Then I crossed the line between tipsy and drunk, which was fine, cause I could still walk just fine, I was just really tired. He made me stay awake and keep drinking water and brush my teeth.
I don't care what Drew thinks. I'm glad David's here. We're friends.
I'd be happy for him if he was stuck in some other state but had Rachel to be friends with.

Then I finally got to go to sleep around 1 and it was the most glorious sleep ever. My head hit the pillow and I thought about how comfy my bed is, snuggled my face against my blanket and was OUT until my alarm went off this morning. That's the first time I've been able to sleep thought the whole night since getting here in August. I'm half tempted to do it again just so I'm not so fucking tired all the time (not really though).
This morning I was fine, other than the worst case cotton mouth I've ever had.


Oh, and there was cake! That was even better than the alcohol. It was chocolate and had cream-cheese based frosting, which is so much better than sugar-based frosting.
I like cake.
There was also limes. Which I did not eat with the cake, but I put like four wedges in my Corona then impressed everyone there when I got them back out afterwords so I could eat them. I do not waste limes.

Also, yay for not having to drive home. I'm glad I didn't have to worry about that, cause if I did, there would have been no booze consumed and I would have felt like a lame-ass like I always do at Drew's parties.

This is a lot of rice. It turned out slightly more mushy than I would have liked, but it's still rice, so whatever.

I'm tired of these constant, random aches and pains that have no apparent source.
I'm tired of being warm in my apartment and cold outside.
I'm tired of being tired.

Last night dinner was Pine Nut and Dried Tomato Crusted Salmon and some Pumpkin Squash Soup. The soup I made myself, which I'm pretty impressed with.

Pumpkin and Butternut Squash Soup
2lbs Butternut (or Acorn) Squash
1 16oz can pumpkin pie mix
1 12oz can condensed milk
1 cup skim milk
1/4 cup butter (or margarine)
1/8 cup peanut butter
Ginger
Nutmeg
Brown Sugar
Cinnamon

Half squash and cook until inside is very tender (about 1 hour at 350*). In large pot, combine squash, pumpkin mix, condensed milk, and skim milk. Heat through, but do not boil. Add butter and peanut butter, stir until both are melted and mixed in. Add generous amounts of Ginger, Nutmeg, Brown Sugar, and Cinnamon to taste preferance; salt can be added by personal preference.
Add water until you like the consistency.