I'M AN ADULT -Andy Sanberg

I'm beginning to realize my excuse of being "too young" is starting to get... well... old.

Because the fact of it is that I'm no longer too young.

One of my patients told me so last Thursday. He was the most adorable old man ever. Actually he asked if I was married, and then asked why not when I said that I was not. He laughed when I told him 20 was too young. He also said that Drew was the lucky one.
Two days before that, I was mistakenly assumed to be Drew's wife.

I've been pushing the things I want out of my mind for years now. I keep telling myself not to be silly and entertain the thoughts.
I tell myself all things in due time.
I tell myself things will happen when they happen.
I tell myself I will get it when I'm older.

I've generally held the opinion that my classmates who have had gotten married or had children already are out of their mind. That they are wasting their young adult life.
I comfort myself with the idea that taking that path myself would ruin everything. That I'm not ready.
That it's not in the cards for me.
That I'll be better off the way things are going.
That I'm not ready to be an adult, a wife, a dog owner.

But when responsible, mature, intelligent, and reasonable Kelly John and Andrew Jolly (yep, another one!) get engaged, it's suddenly thrown in my face that the way I'm keeping my thoughts at bay isn't exactly 100% true.
I admit to myself that I am responsible with money and finances, that I am driven and get things done, and that I am capable.
I realize (with a nasty shock mind you) that at almost 21, I AM in fact, old enough. Old enough to own a car as some of my friends do, pay rent like I do, hold a job and find an income like I do. That I am indeed an adult.
That only a few years ago I regarded this age as OLD. Well now I'm here.

It's interesting.

I'll allow myself to admit, just for an instant, that, after four years, maybe being engaged isn't something to brush off for a later time.
To admit that while I was overjoyed at the news that Rachel and Brian were engaged, I allowed myself to shed a tear or two of pure jealousy. Over the fact that they started dating, got the dogs, got the house, got engaged, will be married, and most likely having children AFTER Drew and I started dating yet BEFORE we can have any of that ourselves.
To admit that for years I've been making lists of what I want our house to be like. Making mental notes of colors I think would look good in our kitchen and in the bedrooms. Learning to cook and learning how to take care of myself so I can make sure I can take care of Drew and the family we will create one day.
To admit that for the past two years, through birthdays and Chirstmas and any other occasion where I am asked, "What do you want?" that the first thing that comes to my mind is a ring. That the image of Drew down on one knee asking me to spend the rest of our lives together flashes through my mind before I tell him that if he really must get me something a movie or text book would be fine.
To admit that I thought it might happen in Montana, in Disneyland, in Hawaii.


But I know that no one follows the same path, and there are no rules that define the miles stones of relationships and when they have to happen.
So I just go back to smiling and saying, "All things in due time."

Well, this was supposed to be posted like two days ago, but blogspot was apparently having issues so.... well that's that I guess.
As of now, all my things have been moved out, living temporarily in either the new apartment's living room or in David's spare bedroom. The carpet has been vacuumed and the apartment cleaned.
My keys were turned back into my landlord about 5 hours ago.

So now I'm just chilling at David's house, waiting until I can just go ahead and fall asleep because the sooner I go to bed, the sooner I'm waking up at 4:30am to get to the airport by 5. This time, I'm going through Atlanta, which seems very much the wrong direction, but I'm still getting home by noon, AND I'm getting a crap-ton of miles. Miles that will get me home in October for Rachel's wedding.
He's watching the finale episode of Smallville. I haven't seen an episode in about 8 years and I am generally uninterested.
What am I going to do for two hours until he presents me with the ice cream he promised?


Yesterday I finished my last final of the semester.
As of now, I am officially a Grad Student.
It's an odd feeling.

Studying

I am particularly fond of this particular slide in my notes about weather-related illness. I don't know why.

In the near-ish future, it may be required that I carry and know how to use a rectal thermometer if and when I am covering a sporting event as a Certified Athletic Trainer.
Who wants to help me practice eh?

Caramel Frapachino Light*

Starbucks is a treat I indulge in maybe once or twice a month. Not because I can't live without my Starbucks, but because mom and dad sent me a gift card for Easter, which makes it a double treat, because it's not even my money.
Would I support the -local scene- of coffee houses if I didn't have the giftcard? No, probably not. From what I've seen, they are full of tea-slurping hipsters who don't know the meaning of the word "headphones," and cost just as much, if not more, for the same drink.
Plus, I'm not about to go on a 20 minute bus ride for coffee when I have my own cheap tea in the cupboard.

I am The Champion of Tetris.
Ok, maybe not THE Champion, but I'm pretty freaking good at Tetris-ing the crap out of everything and maximizing the amount of things I can put into a plastic container when it comes to moving.
By the time my 6th year rolls around I'm going to be so efficient at this we'll pack up one car full of my stuff and be like "yup, that's everything." Sure, it will weight about a billion pounds, but it will be very -compact-.
Or maybe not actually. Given that Marie, who is one of the girls I am moving in with next year is also in PT school with me, she and I may just stay in that apartment until we are done with school. Even if Nichole goes off somewhere else for Grad School and Lindsey gives into her hipster soul and moves to Portland, I know at least one of our other PT classmates who has expressed interest in living there. I mean, roommates aren't hard to find when rent and utilities and cable/internet is only $250 a month.
As much as I love packing things into boxes (seriously, I do. I know, I'm weird) it will be nice to not have to move again for a while.

In more academic news, Cog Motor final was roundhouse kicked in the face. Depending how just how well I did I may actually be able to scrounge an A out of that class. Worst case scenario still has me an AB that is very close to an A. Which wouldn't be as cool for my GPA, but as far as not caring at all about a class, an AB is pretty good.
Why Marquette has a grading system that goes A, AB, B, BC.... instead of A, A-, B+, B.... I don't know. I feel that having the -,+ in between full letter grades would give me a chance at a higher GPA in most instances, but whatever. I'm sure The Man is just trying to keep us down. Or it's easier for our grading program to handle less options. One of the two.

Last night Nichole and I were studying for our Cognitive and Motor Learning final, which is on Monday morning. After about two hours, we both decided we were done and that making Whole Wheat Oatmeal Chocolate Chip cookies would be a better use of our time.
So now those cookies are breakfast before I go to the gym for my scheduled run (16 minutes of running and only 4 minutes of walking!). Which I think is an excellent choice for breakfast before exercise. Carb it up you know?

I just want it to be Thursday at 7pm already. I'll be done with finals, done with working at the bookstore, and getting ready for a End-Of-Finals get together at the other apartment; waking up on Friday morning to hurry and move the rest of my things to the other apartment, ensuring I get my whole security deposit back from my move-out inspection by my land lord, and then... waiting for 4:30am to roll around when it's time to go to the airport and GO HOME!

Artichokes were on sale today. Dinner was delicious.
Then I broke another glass.

I don't have anything to show for myself today.
Well, no pictures anyway.
Today was my last day at Homestead High School until August so Molly and I went over her eval of me that will be turned into the program director. On a scale of 1-5 I she ranked me as either a 3 (where I should be given my amount of school) or a 4 (above average) on every skill I was to be evaluated on. So far, I am her only student intern to not receive a 2. Which is kind of an ego boost, I must admit.

This weekend is proving harder than I thought it would.

In other news, I'm keeping my opinions to myself.

I'm getting sick.
Again.
For the second time in three weeks.
WTF body?!
I'm pretty sure Nichole gave it to me, because she's running her body down just as much as I was the last time I ended up sick, but I'm still upset. I thought my immune system was better than this.

I'm just packing out of sheer boredom now.
Exercise Prescription/Testing/EKG final went well this morning.
Only one more physics lecture to get through tomorrow morning.

I love books. I want a room in my house to be lined with overflowing bookshelves one day.
With squishy chairs and a window seat over looking my garden in the backyard.

Today I bought my very first push-up bra.
I feel like a real woman now. Or something.

So last Friday my 95 year old great grandma got really sick; her fever was high enough that the nurses at her nursing home said she needed to be taken to a hospital. When she got to the ER, the doctor told her that her bowel had ruptured, and she was very quickly becoming septic... poisoning herself. The doctor said that there was a surgery that could be performed to go in and fix the rupture, but my grandma's chances of even coming out of surgery were very slim. Apparently, my grandma was still very lucid at this point, completely with it. She decided that she did not want the surgery, and would just like to go back to St. Joseph's Villa. She was put on a morphine drip for the pain, told everyone there that she was going to just go to sleep and for no one to worry about her.
The week before, she had told my cousin that when her time came, she would be ready for it. I think she's been ready for quite some time actually. For as long as I can remember she's been saying she never thought she would live as long as she had. She passed easily in her sleep that night.

Part of me is so sad. The idea that my grandma Dee isn't going to be there when I get home is hard for me to accept. In a very childlike mindset, I kind of assumed she would just live forever. Ever since my cousin's wedding that she was not able to attend I've had the idea that after my wedding Drew and I would go to her, me in my dress and him still in his tux. So she could see me. Not actually see me, as she was very blind; but she could make out white the easiest, so maybe she would have seen a white shape and known it was me and at least been able to feel the fabric of my dress. I know she'll still see me on my wedding, and now she will actually be able to see me; I just wont get to see her.
I'm so glad I was able to go see her and talk for over an hour when I was home for Spring Break. We talked mostly about my Grandpa Bill, who I never met. We talked about how they met and what they were like in their 20s and 30s. Grandma Dee told me they always wanted more kids than just my Grandma Shirley, but it never happened. It made me so happy that she was able to meet my cousin's son, her great-great-grandson. I hope taking care of all of us made up for the fact she only had one kid herself.
But part of me is glad for her. That she was so at peace with everything and is now reunited with her husband Bill (who died over 20 years ago) and daughter, my grandma Shirley - she has her whole family back and now the three of them can watch the rest of us. That's how my heaven works anyway. I came to that conclusion about it after my grandma Shirley died last summer.
I wonder if I will keep seeing Monarch butterflies everywhere, which I am convinced, in some way, had something to do with my grandma Shirley. I've never seen so many as I did the first months after she died. Only every one at a time, but I would see it on a weekly if not daily basis. I wonder if she was sticking around for me, because she and I were the closest - me being her only granddaughter for so long. Or if she was sticking around waiting for her momma. Which I never really thought about, not really, because they were both my grandma. The idea that grandma Shirley was tiny and small and a child is very foreign to me.
But now mom and dad and daughter are all together again.
It makes me wonder how my gramps is doing. He and my grandma Shirley were the epitome of marrying your best friend. They were each other's everything. I don't want him leaving me too, but at the same time I know he will be most at peace when he's reunited with his love.

But for now, my Gramps inherited what was left of my great-grandma's estate, which was still quite a bit from selling her house at the beginning of this year. The result of that was it being split up between all of Grandma Dee's grandchildren. My dad and aunt each got $10,000; my brother, sister, cousin Nathan, cousin Aiden (the cutest baby boy ever BTW), and I each got $5000.

Five thousand dollars.
Oh my god.
My dad called tonight to tell me, and I told him to turn around, put the money back in my parents account, and say that I NO LONGER OWE MONEY ON MY EDUCATION. We've already transferred the money I owe my parents (5 grand a year) for my 4 years of undergrad, this money will now cover my 5th year, and I have just enough in my savings account to cover year 6 as well.
That is so much money.
AND I JUST REMEMBERED!
I have another $8000 sitting in a college fund from my maternal grandmother. Which not only covers everything nicely, but leaves me with money to spare.
That changes everything.

Thank you Grandma Dee, for funding my education. You always said how proud of me you were and how I was going to be a wonderful Physical Therapist someday.

I know that I live in the ice plant Hoth, otherwise known as the Frozen North, otherwise known as Wisconsin.
(What the FUCK am I doing in WISCONSIN? I mean, really?)
I know that it was my decision to come here. I know that I could have easily gone to Corvallis, Oregon; or Spokane, Washington; or Phoenix, Arizona; or even stayed in Salt Lake City.
But having a windchill of 2*F above freezing on May 3rd is just absurd!

I realized today that while I'm not consciously stressed out, I'm subconsciously in panic mode. I know this because all I want to talk about for days and day and repeat endlessly is my plan for moving. Not because I think whoever is reading this need to know or even cares, but because having it somewhere other than in my head makes me feel better about the whole thing.
The tension headache is also back. I need to recruit one of my classmates to put my neck into traction for about 5 minutes. Or just massage my occipital muscle, one of the two.

Post 425

Things are very slowly being reorganized in preparation for moving out of my studio and into the apartment with Nichole, Lindsey, and Marie. I think at some point this week the above shelf and the tri-fold room divider I have will be hauled over there, and I will probably send a large box home with David after Taco Tuesday tomorrow. I'm sure I would have no trouble parting with my tiny excuse of a bookshelf soon. I'm done needed everything on it.
I keep looking around for more things to put away, but keep running into: Nope - still need that for another few days.
I think about putting my posters back into their shipping tube, but then don't, because what's the point? Having bare walls will not make the next 11 days go by any faster, it will only make it so my walls are bare and sad looking.
I would love to pack up my large fan. However, I know the instant I do the weather will take a wild shift and it will be 80* for the remainder of the time I am here. Which isn't really something I would complain about right now, as it is only 41*F, but then I would have to unpack the fan and the moment I did that it would be cold again.


On an unrelated note, I really like the movie Underworld:Rise of the Lycans. It's a perfect portrayal of vampires as I always imagined them, classy and noble. It's what you would expect to think of when you hear the word vampire, or at least would have thought of before the specification of "NOT a Twilight vampire" was necessary. I love it for the love story between Lucian and Sonja; I think mostly for how EXPERTLY DONE Micheal Sheen's portrayal of Lucian's passion for her is. Especially the scene where they open the ceiling and kill her, which sounds odd, but it's the best portrayal of... pure anguish I've ever seen.
It reminds me of Anthony. Not in a bad way though.

I'm not even worried about finals this year. I am just DONE WITH SCHOOL AND I WANT TO GO HOME RIGHT MEOW!!

May picture

I want one. I want, want, want, wantwantwantwantwant one.

I'm very slowly starting to repackage my room to make moving day (Friday, May 13th) as easy as possible. Hopefully, most of my things will just go across the street to the new apartment, so I don't have to worry about moving again when I get back to school in August.
My futon is the one thing that is causing problems though. Looking at it, I KNOW it will fit in Danielle's room (the girl I am replacing in the apartment) but whether or not Danielle will let me put it in there for the two and a half weeks until their old lease is up and she moves out is the question. She said I could, as long as it "Isn't an inconvenience," to her - what her definition of inconvenience is, I don't know. But I know it would fit.
Other than that, most all of my things have already found a cozy home for the just under three months (so short?) that I will be home in Salt Lake. My kitchen table/desk is likely going to become an end table in their living room after Danielle takes her end tables with her. Marie, who has a larger bedroom, has said I can put my dresser (which will be full of my winter clothes. Hurray no more garbage bags!) in her room. My wire-rake pantry thing is obviously going in the kitchen. My nightstand will probably be used as another end table in the living room. My bookshelf is tiny and can go where ever.
And that's it. I'm so glad I don't have a lot of stuff. It's going to make moving so much easier.

If worst comes to worst and Danielle changes her mind, Nichole's father has a pick-up truck that she can borrow and we take my futon to David's house and put it in his extra bedroom.

I've got my running program figured out for the next two months. By the end of June, I will be running cycling through walking for one minute and running for ten for 3 cycles, or 33 minutes total. If I can do that with no pain, I get to cut out the walking completely, and get to start building up from 15 minutes of running beginning in July.

I can't believe that there is only a week of classes left. WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?
In 12 days I'm going to be a Grad Student! Which is a wonderful and terrifying idea, because it puts me one step closer to the real world.

I'll be home in 13 days. :)