Monthly Archives: November 2007

I’m Gonna Miss You, Boston

20 Tuesday Nov 2007

Posted by in Bostonia

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This morning I went out to run a couple of errands.  I came to an intersection near where I live and I was beginning to cross the street, as the oncoming traffic had the green and they were all in the lane to go straight or right.  But, just as I stepped out off of the curb, a cab (without a turn signal) started turning left.  The driver honked his horn, yelled something which I obviously couldn’t hear and gave me the finger.  So, I did what anyone in my situation would do.

I smiled really big and waved.

If Only She Could Have Stayed a Little Bit Longer…

20 Tuesday Nov 2007

Posted by in Lindsay

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I looked at my post from last night and immediately upon looking at that picture I got the theme song from Golden Girls stuck in my head.

Anyway, I got two hours of sleep last night and it took the coffee, this drink and a 20-ounce Cherry Coke to get me through all the work I needed to do before leaving today.  The important thing, though, is that I did everything I wanted to do and got through everything I needed to finish.

I just want to say that the Me of Last Night was beyond awesome.  (Does anyone else do that?  Think of past and future “thems” as a different person?)  Me of Last Night was amazingly thorough about everything.  Not only did she get everything done, but she also left me a couple of notes written in big lettering of the last-minute things I need to pack before leaving and the last-minute things I need to do before leaving.  She put them in places I would easily see them, as if she knew that I was going to be beyond zombie status this morning and would obviously need the aid.  She’s made everything so easy for me, it’s as if I have to do nothing at all.

And — and! — she packed everything ahead of time!  That in and of itself is pretty impressive, but the most impressive thing?  She managed to fit absolutely everything in my small suitcase.  I know I’m only going to be gone until Monday night, but I am a girl and so I pack a lot of stuff to calm my inner anxieties about the what-ifs — what if I need this and don’t have it, what if there is a torrential downpour and somehow all my clothes but these (which magically do not get wet, ever) get soaking wet and I have nothing to wear, what if we decide at the spur of the moment to go on an African safari, what if the temperature somehow skyrockets due to global warming and instead of the chilly weather we’ve been having it ends up being 120 degrees?  WHAT IF?  So, naturally, I need to prepare for these situations.  Whether I’m gone three days or a week, I always end up taking my big suitcase because the small one just can’t hack it.  Miracle beyond miracles, though, Me of Last Night managed to make it all fit in the small suitcase — with room to spare!  I don’t know how she did it, but she did it and she is amazing.  So, now all I have to bring with me is my backpack with my laptop and school stuff in it, my purse and my small suitcase.  Elatedness abounds!  No big, heavy suitcase to lug onto the T and to the train station.  No back pain when attempting to lift the suitcase up to put in the overhead area on the train.  Me of Last Night?  She is my travel hero.  Kisses to her!

Checking Them Twice

19 Monday Nov 2007

Posted by in Academia, Work

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Right now I am drinking a venti caffe mocha with an extra shot of espresso for good measure.  A venti caffe mocha.  With an extra shot of espresso.  I think that should give you a pretty good indication of what kind of a night I expect to be having.  Right now my life can be summed up in lists, all of which I have right next to me.  Tomorrow I am leaving to go to Steven’s parents’ house for Thanksgiving Break, so I need to attend to my lists right now instead of taking time to write y’all a more substantial post.  However, since I am detained for the time being, I present you with this (because everyone loves LOLcats) because you are awesome and I love you:

Baby, It’s Cold INSIDE

18 Sunday Nov 2007

Posted by in Life As We Know It

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The heat in my room had been off for a very long time — since sometime yesterday, in fact!  Thankfully, I was not here for most of that since I was attending the all-day women’s retreat, but I sure experienced it when I got back last night.  Oh my goodness, was my room cold.  I had been ever so prescient and left one of my windows partially open, to boot.  I don’t know exactly how cold my room was, but it was about the same temperature as my refrigerator.  I hopped in my bed and covered up and stayed there all night and a decent portion of today, though unfortunately not sleeping more than 3 or 4 hours (GAH!), until finally I decided to call my RA to see if it was just my room or if it was the building.  She was not in her room (I wonder why!) and said that it was her room as well (she lives directly below me) and that she had called in a complaint last night and waited up, but no one came.  She suggested that I do the same.  So, I called the RA-on-call to inform him that hypothermia was occurring in record numbers and that I would love him forever if he would be so inclined to get someone over here to rectify the situation.  He was kind enough to oblige me and within half an hour a nice man knocked on my door and checked out my radiator.  He then said that he had received other complaints about the heat and that he’d go check the boiler in the basement.  He came back about 5 minutes later and informed me that the boiler had been off for about 24 hours and that he turned it back on, and right about then I heard the familiarly disturbing hissing sound coming from the radiator next to my bed.

And then I got down on my knees and kissed his boots.

In my mind, that is.

Lots of Estrogen, Worship & Good Memories

17 Saturday Nov 2007

Posted by in Catholicism

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I attended an all-day women’s retreat today on my campus.  I served as a small group leader and met some really amazing women who love their faith.  I’ll admit it, I am totally into the small group/retreat thing.  I have been since I first started attending retreats, but as it’s also been pointed out to me by people who have attended retreats at other universities and other parishes, our retreats are not at all the norm and they really are spectacular.  So, in one regard I have been extremely spoiled and kind of never want to leave this community, even though one day I will have to.

My small group itself was beyond amazing.  I fell in love with those girls immediately and we all genuinely enjoyed each other’s company so much that we were having group hugs by the end (after affirmations), while other groups stared on.  It was great fun, and we plan on getting together again once we get back from Thanksgiving Break.  I am really looking forward to it.

During the course of the retreat I had several girls say incredibly wonderful things about me, and I very nearly broke down in tears several times.  I couldn’t believe they were talking about me.  I mean, I try to live my life as best I can and to be a vessel of God’s love to others, but I am by no means perfect.  Actually, I am a terribly long ways away from being so!  But these girls — these wonderful, kind young women — just completely made my day.  The girls in my group kept raving on about what a wonderful small group leader I was, when honestly I think I was just extremely blessed with a really great group.  I didn’t talk much at the beginning, and they all said they thought it rather odd and were wondering why I wasn’t contributing, but then I added my two cents in after a bit, and they said that they realised that they then understand not only why I was chosen to be a small group leader but agreed that I made a particularly marvelous one — because I sat back and really listened and then put everything together in a way that made it all make sense and seem so wise.  Needless to say, they all received hugs for that.  I have trouble believing that they were talking about me, the dears!  They thanked me over and over for everything I did (really, I did nothing!) and said that I really made a difference and helped them to grow in their faith today.  I have no words to respond to that.

Then after the retreat, one of my dear friends came up to me (she was in charge of registration for the retreat) and told me that she loved me.  We hugged and I kissed her on the cheek and smiled, telling her how much I loved her too.  She teared up and said, “No, really, Lindsay.  I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.  You were my small group leader on my first retreat last fall and you were so loving and amazing.”  I could only say, “Awwww.  Oh my gosh.”  I held her tighter, kissed her cheek again and wiped the tears from her eyes.  Then she continued, completely crying now.  “Really.  I love you, Lindsay.”  I very nearly lost it myself.  Was it really me she was talking about?  She made me sound like such an amazing person who really had an impact on her life.  She made a point to come up to me after the retreat to tell me so, and yet I completely was bewildered and shocked by it all.

And yet every single young woman in my small group echoed similar sentiments.

This is the kind of thing I mean when I say how blessed I am to have the kind of community that I do.  These women mean so very much to me — each and every one of them — and they are treasures to be cherished in my heart.  I’ve mentioned this repeatedly, but I do not have an extraordinarily high opinion of myself, and to hear these things — these wonderful, wonderful things — about myself is almost unbelievable.  I want to make a difference in people’s lives, I always have.  I want to improve people’s lives, to be the living expression of God’s kindness and love, to matter.  I don’t want this because I necessarily desire to be important, though certainly I wouldn’t be completely honest if I were to say that I would hate that if it were to happen, but because I really care about people, collectively and individually, like these ladies.

The retreat was called “Treasure Hunt” and it’s theme was discovering the treasures in our lives and discovering that we were treasure to be beheld.  I think it is safe to say that I have… difficulty, in viewing myself this way.  These girls, though, made me realise otherwise.  They see something in me that I either don’t see or don’t want to see, perhaps for fear of becoming arrogant or narcissistic.  I don’t think it was coincidence that these women just happened to decide to say such kind words about me.  I think that God was speaking through them to me in a very real way, to make me identify with the retreat’s theme on a more personal reflective level.

During the icebreaker of our first small group discussion we talked about ourselves were we superheroes — what colour spandex we would wear (if at all), what mode of transportation we would take and what superpower we would like to have.  My answer to the third one was that I would like the power of being able to make people happy.

By the end of the day I learned that I don’t need to be a superhero to do that.  I just need to be me.

(P.S.  I failed to bring a camera — how on earth could I forget?! — but many other more put-together retreatants managed to bring theirs and take pictures, so maybe once they post some pictures on Facebook I can steal them and post some for your viewing pleasure.)

I am the Worst Girlfriend Ever

16 Friday Nov 2007

Posted by in Steven

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No, really.

It is 6:35 PM and I am just now realising that today is November 16th.  November 16th only comes around once a year, so you would think that it would be pretty easy to remember when it’s coming up, right?  It’s not rocket science.  It’s a relatively easy thing to do, and yet the fact that today of all days is November 16th completely eluded me.  I took no notice whatsoever.  It has been a busy day, and I just went along with the day as usual, like any other day of the year.  Only today is not like any other day of the year.

Today is my boyfriend’s birthday.

I KNOW.  I am terrible.  I feel like the biggest jerk in the whole wide world. I did nothing special for him.  I did not get him anything.  Nothing.  Now, Steven would crankily push this aside and tell me that it doesn’t matter because he spent the whole day working anyway and it’s not like he could even take the time to notice the fact that it’s his birthday or could do anything to celebrate.  He’s been working a lot and he has been under the weather in a very bad way, so the fact that he’s been supremely stressed means that today is just another blip on the radar, nothing special.  Because he doesn’t get to do anything special.  This makes me feel like even more of a hoebag for having NOT done anything special for him, because it’s more of a reason to make a big deal out of his birthday.

He, of course, would not agree with my reasoning.  In fact, I think he’d get rather peeved if I tried.

You see, I have this… habit, of doing very elaborate things on special occasions.  I do so much already that it really genuinely bothers Steven to see me go overboard on this kind of stuff.  Where other people would be ineffably touched he gets a bit testy about it all, because he wants me to take care of myself.  He sees it as me taking on additional unnecessary burdens.  How’s that for low maintenance?  So, this is the first occasion in the entirety of our time as a couple in which I have not done something for Steven on a special occasion.  I haven’t spoken with him, but I’m sure he’s entirely ok with this and actually glad I forgot so that I didn’t work myself to the bone trying to make him feel special.  I, on the other hand, feel like I really dropped the ball on this one.

Birthdays were never made out to be big deals for me, but I’ve celebrated other people’s birthdays and gone to birthday parties and the whole thing seems rather fun.  Steven’s birthday has always been kind of important to me personally, though.  Maybe that sounds weird, and I’m not going to argue otherwise.  It’s just, I am so incredibly thankful for his existence.  I’m sure that much is obvious since we are in a relationship, but he has had a huge impact on my life whether he realises it or not.  His birthday is not only important to me, it’s huge.  27 years ago he entered this world, and that day is one of the most important days in my life.  It has had a huge effect on my own life.  His birth has been one of the greatest blessings for me personally, even though I haven’t really gotten to experience that joy until relatively recently.  It makes me want to fall to my knees and just thank God all day long for this awesome person in my life who has meant so very much to me.  I’m sure everyone can relate to that on some level.

And I completely forgot about it.

I’ve been… beyond busy, so I guess it’s not that surprising.  Though, it’s also not as if I simply forgot.  I just have been so consumed with work that I really haven’t been able to follow or fill my mind with much of anything else.  However, since it is still his birthday for 5 more hours, I can still do something to honour the day that a really awesome person was born.  And!  I will even keep it low key, because I know that’s what he would prefer.  I’m going to steal Maggie’s idea and write 27 reasons I love my busy worker bee, because that is not at all difficult.  The order is random.

  1. When he smiles — like really smiles, not fake smiles — it is the most adorable thing I have ever seen.  His cheeks push up on his eyes and make his eyes scrunch mostly shut.  It makes my heart melt and gives me butterflies in my stomach every time I see it.
  2. He is very, very smart.  He is well-rounded intellectually and his strengths lie in areas that are my weaknesses.  I learn a lot from him.  He is my Human Dictionary.  Seriously.  Also, he has a lot of useless knowledge and kicks major butt at trivia games.
  3. He is the best snuggler on the planet.
  4. He looks really cute when he’s sleeping.  It makes me say, “Awww,” and want to cuddle up next to him and hug him.
  5. When I come visit him, he will come snuggle with me before he heads into work and then he will bring me a glass of milk before he leaves, because he knows my blood sugar is always terrible when I first wake up.  And he knows how much I love milk!
  6. He buys milk when I come visit him.  He does not like milk and only uses it when cooking, but he willingly gets it for me.  He is the best.
  7. He does not particularly like to dance, but he danced with me the whole night at my brother’s wedding and he danced with me for over an hour on our 2-year anniversary.
  8. He introduced me to Buffy and Firefly.  For that I will love him forever.
  9. He is a really great brother.  He loves his sister so incredibly much.  It’s heart-warming to see the two of them together.
  10. He also loves his mother more than any man I have ever met.  This is not at all a scary thing.  He is very much a mommy’s boy, but I do not mean that in a derogatory sense at all.  It’s awesome how close they are calls her quite a lot.  He’s a wonderful son.
  11. In fact, he’s one of the most loving people I have ever met in my whole life.
  12. He likes Gilmore Girls.  This might seem like a weird thing to put on the list, but it was a prerequisite for anyone I date.
  13. When I cry, he is extremely sensitive and sympathetic.  He holds me.  He doesn’t make me feel ashamed of crying, even when it’s over little things (like the finale of Gilmore Girls).  He will wipe my tears and doesn’t mind when I get snot or tears on his shirt.  That is love.
  14. Not only can he cook, but he is a good cook.
  15. He puts on really terrible music in the car when I am with him because he knows it makes me happy.
  16. He comes to Mass with me even though he is not Catholic and is not a big fan of organised religion.
  17. He NEVER makes comments about other girls or remarks about a girl, even on TV or in a movie, being attractive.  Even if I say something he will respond with something along the lines of, “If you say so.”
  18. I have a really poor body image and am overweight, but he thinks I am beautiful just the way I am.  He never says anything, and always tells me that I don’t ever need to change anything about the way I look for him because he’s happy with me the way I am.
  19. He is very, very against plastic surgery of any kind, especially breast augmentations.
  20. He is awesome with kids.
  21. He has the cutest sleepy voice ever.
  22. If we are together and I am not feeling well, he takes care of me.  He is extremely attentive.
  23. He is a huge geek and I love it.  I’m pretty sure Weird Al wrote the song “White and Nerdy” about Steven.  His geekiness is just too adorable for words.
  24. He thinks that LilyCat is the most adorable kitty in the world.  (It is a fact.)
  25. He will always be older than me.  Whenever I feel like I am getting old, all I have to do is remember that he is even older.  It always makes me feel better.
  26. He smells really good.  He gives me his shirts after he’s worn them so I can wear them as pyjamas.  They smell like him and it comforts me.
  27. He devised a treasure hunt for my birthday last year to make it special.  This meant a lot to me.  I was given clues and had to search to find my presents.  He also made me meatballs and rice for my birthday supper.

It literally took me no time at all to come up with that list.  27 reasons why I love him really only skims the surface.  He really is awesome and I love him immensely.  I am so very thankful for the day he was born.

Happy birthday, sweetheart!!

Romance: Not Like It Used to Be

15 Thursday Nov 2007

Posted by in Academia

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I don’t know if this is of any interest to anyone else other than myself, but since it consumed nearly my whole day I am going to talk about it, it being a project I am currently working on for a class. Though, if things work out, this sort of work will be consuming my life next year and perhaps for a long time after that.

I spent my day in the archives today. (Side note: I love that word, archives. It makes me tingle with joy.) Actually, I have spent quite a few days in the archives, but today I was there the longest. I will be going back Monday. The secretary and my own “personal liaison” (I have no idea what to refer to Charlie as. This seems ridiculously demeaning considering how much he’s done for me and how much of a help he is. I don’t have a name for what he is. He’s just Charlie, and he is awesome. Also, he knows… a lot. Hmm, I suppose those Yale alums have done a lot of reading in their day.) there for my project know me pretty well by now. I am no longer called by my first name explicitly. I am referred to by some sort of nickname depending upon who it is, but Lindsay I am not. I am ok with this.

ANYWAY, my project involves the personal correspondence of Sir Lucas White King and his wife Geraldine Harmsworth King. They are the parents of Cecil King. I’m dealing with letters from the very beginning of their courtship, in June of 1890. The beginning of a courtship. During the Victorian era. Are you seeing the awesomeness here? It is beyond amazing. Just seeing their handwriting, reading their words, imagining them writing it, being pulled into that world — it gives me goosebumps. Really, it does. And that world? It is so very different. So much passion and feeling are poured onto those pages. I’m not saying that people do not do that now, but back then the whole sex-before-marriage thing did not exist (Can I go back in time?). You can literally see the excitement poured onto the page with the ever so slightly shaky handwriting at certain points of the letter. In some ways, it’s so neat and in others it can be so annoying. It’s very cat-and-mouse. Everything you’ve ever seen about love back then, with the clingy guy who says cliché things and sounds like a poet mimicking Shakespeare? SO VERY TRUE. Real example from one of Lucas’ letters: “I cannot tell you how sorry I am that our acquaintance (edit: note choice of diction — this speaks volumes) should be cut short so soon. Perhaps it would have been better had we never met! That cannot be helped now and all I can do is to ask you to mitigate the pains of parting. Will you do me one favor — ’tis all I ask — and send me one of your photographs?” This is perhaps not the best example, but it gives you an idea of the tone of his letters. In one of them he gets so bold as to ask her to call him by his Christian name. It’s really neat stuff.

Charlie was the one who put me onto the project. He gets really excited by this stuff. He just lights up upon reading this and talks about how sensual it is. It’s pretty funny to watch. Although realising some of the customs and stuff, I sometimes feel as if I’m reading something I shouldn’t be. It is quite intimate and revealing, but that’s all a part of the process. It’s an exciting, fun project and I love it. I love delving into this stuff, and I would love to discuss more, but I am tired and not so very coherent right now. Also, I am sure that this is not quite as interesting for you. Maybe tomorrow I will have something better.

Blargh! Grr! Smash! Insomnia is a [VERY BAD WORD I Do Not Say]. …BUT I AM THINKING IT.

14 Wednesday Nov 2007

Posted by in Sleepy-Tired!

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I am a wuss.  I lasted until 8 o’clock and then passed out happily in my bed.  Only to wake up about an hour ago at  12:45.  This after being exhausted and taking some NyQuil because I’ve been coughing, and to help the whole staying asleep thing.  YES, I am serious.  I took NyQuil on top of already feeling half-dead and then fell asleep for all of 4 and a half hours.  I HAVE THE SLEEPING PATTERN OF AN INFANT.  GAH!  This wouldn’t be half so bad were it not for the fact that this has been happening every.  single.  night.  for over a week.   GO TO SLEEP, SELF.  I just took a melatonin pill, an anxiety pill and a little more NyQuil.  You might think this is overkill.  You would be wrong.  This is merely necessary to aid in the falling asleep process.  Sometimes it works.  Sometimes it doesn’t and I just end up more tired because of it.  GAAAAAAH, SLEEP.  Eventually I will fall back to sleep (I hope), but it will probably be a few hours from now, and then I will only get a couple of hours of sleep after that and then have to wake up to go to meetings and class and do work and such.  AND I WILL BE VERY TIRED.  Because I did not get enough sleep.  DO YOU SEE WHERE THIS IS GOING?  Tomorrow night this will start all over again.  I could be the world’s sleepiest person, and I could go to bed at a slightly more normal hour, or even early or later, but I will stay wake up a few hours later.  WHY, GOD, WHY?  This will continue, progressively getting worse and worse until magically one day it will stop and my sleeping pattern will normalise.  Then I will live in blissful sleeping joy for a few weeks.  Then it will happen again for no apparent reason.  BLAH GRR BLAH GRR BLAH BLAH BLAH.  Want to sleep!  Want to sleep very much!  Sleep, Self, Sleep!  Is there a patron saint of sleeping?  Is there?  Because I could use some major intercession right now.  There is one for sleepwalkers and against sleepwalking.  GAH, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  SLEEPwalkers.  What do they need help for?  They’re already asleep!  At this rate I’m going to need a patron saint of mental disorders or the mentally ill to intercede on my behalf.  And what do you know.  There are patron saints of this.  And madness.  And insanity.  THERE ARE A LOT OF THEM.  Like, 18.  You know, if we had a patron saint for insomnia or for sleep, perhaps we wouldn’t need so many for mental illness, madness and insanity.

Sleepy-Tired!

13 Tuesday Nov 2007

Posted by in Sleepy-Tired!

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Contrary to the fact that I am practically a robot when it comes to sleep, autumn hits me just as hard as anyone else, if not more so.  I’ve mentioned many times before that I have anxiety disorders.  I have this internal clock with regards to work and time.  There are certain time gaps that I am more likely to be able to fall asleep more easily, so I try very hard to schedule the holy act of sleeping around these times.  Once evening hits and it gets dark, I have a general idea of how much time I have before I should be trying to start pre-sleep routine.  During autumn, however, it gets darker sooner.  This messes with everything.  I get nervous and think that I’m slacking and falling behind on work, only to then get increasingly more anxious because I feel like I have less time in which to get work done in order to not miss my window of opportunity.  The amount of time doesn’t change, but my perception of that amount does during autumn.  The end result is that I am plagued by far more anxiety attacks than usual.  In this sense, autumn is not a very fun time for me (even though I do love autumn).  On top of that, the windows in which I can easily fall asleep alter a bit as well.  In a word, it sucks.  It’s easier for me to fall asleep earlier in the evening in general, but during autumn?  That window shifts to an even earlier time.  This happens for some people, but usually they get out of their funk.  I, on the other hand, do not.  I am funked for the whole season.  This impacts a lot, especially since my schedule with school and commitments stays exactly the same.  This just results in me getting bogged down in this perpetual haze of sleepiness.  It is not fun.  I end up spending a huge portion of the day sleepy and groggy or anxious about getting work done on time and being productive.  I do not remember what I was about to say.  I’m sure I had a point, though.  I am really tired.  It has been a long day, and it is only 7:15 in the evening!  On the bright side, I think I have a thesis proposal for my grad school application.  Elatedness abounds!  I know from experience that it’s pointless for me to try to fight my body when my sleep windows shift to much earlier times, but I’m going to try to anyway.  Hopefully I can hang in there for a few more hours at least.

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