Surgery

Today was surgery day. This would number four for me. Whoopee (not). Everything went smoothly, my swelling doesn't seem to be so bad so far (knock on wood), but the Zanex they gave me is just wearing off. I normally have surgery around nine and wake around 5 or so.. But today, nope. This time I wake up at 6:40 and still very woozy. Although in my head I felt fine and coherent, getting up to grab pain meds or use the ladies room required me to move slowly and hang on to things. I felt a little dizzy still. But this should be the last surgery of this particular process.

I love hearing about things that have happened or that I have said while I was intoxicated. My assistant today was a lady named Cheryl who was sweet as can be and understood how heavy the meds are and giggled a bit at my answers to things. Apparently when they woke me so I could be taken home I looked around and asked for Cheryl. I don't remember coming home or my mother setting up the couch. I remember the Olympics being on before I completely passed out again. Apparently my mother woke me to bring me food and a pill which I ate like a zombie and immediately fell back asleep. My puppy was at my side I guess the whole time. My dad came home and greeted me, which I don't remember. I also had several texts, and a phone call that I have no memory answering. Yep, today was surgery day. They're always interesting. The famous one would have to be my first surgery, where I announced I was going upstairs. My sister was upstairs and noticed me walking back and forth in the bathroom singing "boop boop boop" in no particular tune. She guided me downstairs where I fell back to sleep.

So now it's over and time for recovery. Which will involve some movies, TV, reading, and visits from friends who can take me places, since I cannot operate machinery. Happy recovery week.

Summertime and the Livin' is Easy

I'm ready for summer. Of course I love living in the city, but I need the summer's sunny warmth. I love nothing more than when everyone smells of sun screen or chlorine and when tan lines begin to form. When you can venture out at night in shorts and a tank top. Where the smell of freshly cut grass emanates more often, and the bees think more people are flowers because of all the lightly colored clothing. The times when you can spend a whole lazy day in your bathing suit, hopping in and out of the pool. Where more days can be spent barefooted and free spirited. I miss falling asleep under trees at the park and waking at sunset with grass in my hair. I miss trips to the beach with the chaos of tourists and children and sand castles. I miss picnics. I long for summer's lemonade on the lawn and backyard BBQs. It may all seem like a dream, but that's because it is. I am dreaming of summer, my summer. And I cannot wait until it's here.

"One of these mornings/You're going to rise up singing/Then you'll spread your wings/And you'll take to the sky/But until that morning/There's a'nothing can harm you/With your daddy and mammy standing by/Summertime,/And the livin' is easy..."

-"Summertime" George Gershwin

Curious

Today has been a funny day for pondering. Have you ever heard something, or had someone mention something, and you thought about it more than normal? Like when, all of a sudden, you notice how funny or strange a word is and wonder how it came to be. Or when you think of an object and wondered why/how someone came to think it up and invent it? I felt like that all day. I wonder if it's brought on by the current head-cold I've been fighting..

Things I pondered today are as follows:

• How were mirrors invented? How long have we had mirrors? Besides glass, what makes up a mirror?
• I believe that manslaughter is a more gruesome term than murder, and I think their usages should have been switched. 
• The word "widower" might be strange to someone learning our language. It seems more logical that it would mean "someone who widows"
• Is it offensive if I killed this mosquito with the text book my professor wrote while he is teaching?

And so on. They are notes in the margins of my notebooks. Questions that I might get around to answering. Thoughts that needed to be written down. I haven't really written in some days, I apologize. I haven't been sleeping well either, but so much could have been expected. This much I know, I need to keep writing. Otherwise I feel like I constantly have an itch I can't scratch or thoughts that zoom in and out again. 

Also, yesterday was Valentine's day. Cookie dough bites, Cocoa Puffs, 3 See's samples, a Reese's, and a chocolate milkshake. Day well spent. Back to the diet today. It will be over March 28th. Not that I'm counting down until I'm allowed to eat sweets (in moderation) again.

I spent the day with some of my very best friends. I could not have had a better one. 

My Monday Morning Playlist

Monday mornings have new meaning when they involve a special set of songs. As soon as I realize it's a Monday (to my roommate's dismay) I put on my playlist. I need something that motivates me to be awake. Let me know if I'm missing something perfect.

Julia's Monday Morning Playlist:

I Don't Like Mondays -The Boomtown Rats
Manic Monday -The Bangles
Monday Monday -Mamas & the Papas
Monday -Wilco
Monday Monday Monday -Tegan and Sara
Blue Monday -New Order
Monday Morning -Feetwood Mac
I Met Him on a Sunday -Laura Nyro
Rainy Monday -Shiny Toy Guns

Happy Monday everyone.

Different Names for the Same Thing

As I laid down my head last night, I wished you would have been there. That when I laid down my head, I would be resting on you instead of this lame substitute of a pillow. You would put your arm around me, and we would talk about everything and nothing, and you would hold me as my eyes grew heavy, and not mind my falling asleep on you. But, just like almost every night previous, when my head came down it rested on cold pillow. I don't remember if I dreamed of you... I must have, since I have not really been trying to remember. Deep down I must know you show up there so frequently. Missing you is not the same when I don't know if you do the same, or if I'll ever even see you again. Is there another word for that? There should be, because this is not quite the same. Until I can think of another word, I miss you.

Tacking One On

Adding to my list of things I'm looking forward to this semester:

• Dr. Dog at the Great American Music Hall... the Saturday after Vampire Weekend. Four days after, to be exact.

Is April here yet? I'm waiting for you, April. You and I will have fun.

Build me up, Buttercup

"Why do you build me up, Buttercup baby,
Just to let me down
And mess me around?
Baby worst of all,
You never call, baby,
When you say you will,
But I love you still.
...So build me up, Buttercup,
Don't break my heart.."

-The Foundations, "Build me up, Buttercup"

This has been stuck in my head, and for good reason. Colin Young sang the truth here. So build me up, Buttercup, but don't break my heart..

Winded

Valentine's day.. How quickly do you turn me from "It's just another day.." to "I'm single and will live alone forever."

Today I had a conversation with one of my best friends talking humorously about our singledom. Something I said she mistook for me talking about running shoes. "Yea, you know, for catching a man." To which she replied, "If only it were that easy!" We are winded. I am winded. I hate running, for as far as I can remember I have hated running. There are times when it is exhilarating, and times where it leaves me gasping for air, or filled with aches. Which is exactly how "the chase" can be. But I still go running, just like I still keep my head up when it comes to meeting someone. Sure it doesn't always end up the way you would like, but each try might make the next time that much easier. So, yea, as of right now I am winded, and I feel like "quitting while I'm behind." But I'm not behind, I'm just getting started. I just need a minute to catch my breath. 

So to all of you who have a Valentine, Mazal Tov. To those of us who don't, "It's just another day," so let's drown ourselves in chocolate and go running. ;)

Counting My Blessings

Sometimes when my mom drives me somewhere, I want to crap myself just a little. She insists on getting things herself, not buckling up until her car annoys her, dialing a cellphone that she has to hold away from her to read, taking exits that are too early, swerving herself into lanes when she realizes she's in the wrong one, and creeping forward at stoplights in left turn lanes as if it's a 'Yield on green.' As I sat in the passenger's seat today, going nuts in my head, I had to smile a bit. This was my mother. the eccentric and also very reserved soul who I had known my whole life. She's more eccentric with age, but still quite the graceful person. I remember a friend of mine saying she always thought my mom had a similar air to Julie Andrews. That is fairly accurate. This eccentricity may drive me mad some days, but most times it makes me laugh. My mother and I have had an interesting journey together.

In middle school, I, like most girls, had quite the hostile relationship with my mom. We definitely had it rough. But once that phase ended, I began to fully see and appreciate my mother for exactly who she was. And although I am still afraid that I'll pick up some crazy habits of my mother's, it could be worse..

I am fortunate enough to have a mother who will drive me to and from the BART station to come home for a visit, or when I need to come in for emergencies (mostly medical) who will take off work to make sure I can come in as soon as possible. I have a mother who accepted my choice to step away from God, and never pushed me to come back, knowing that I would come back on my own. Someone who worries for me, even when not entirely necessary, and who encourages me to be a better person everyday.

But it isn't just my mother who I can appreciate. I have been lucky enough to have a father who is devoted to his wife and kids, and who went out of his way to make sure we would have a special relationship and get every opportunity we desired. He took my sister and I on father-daughter trips and introduced us to museums and art and fabulous food. His love for our mother remains strong and an example that someone will have to live up to for myself and my sister someday.

We have been fortunate to be able to travel as a family and have been able to live comfortably enough. I have been given the opportunity to go to school in the city while my parents pay for my tuition, housing, and books.

And even though I always joke that I wanted a brother, I love my sister more than words can say. Nothing can break the kind of love that sisters have, and I am incredibly blessed to have been given such an awesome one. I love you, Sis.

I vent/complain about plenty of minor things in my life, but after this last week and the love and support I received from my family and friends alike, I took the time to count my blessings. And boy are they numerous! Thank you to anyone who has been here for me (in person or in spirit), and know that you are truly appreciated.

Count your blessings. Love much and often. Today's a great day to start.

To Be or Not To Be

Today, during one of my classes, we discussed a book we've started reading (which I love!). In it there is a character, an old school teacher, who speaks of his original excitement to teach, how he hopes to inspire students and for the students to visit him and remember him very fondly as they go on. But this never happens. He hopes for a connection beyond the normal student-teacher relationship and for his students to become successful with his help. Some of the students are quite successful, but they never credit or visit him. As my professor described, "They got what they needed and moved on. He was a joke to them."

As someone who wants to teach, I was a tad horrified about his ends. He becomes a raging alcoholic, goes back on all his principles... What if, to some degree, I am this man. I very much hope to inspire and be the best possible teacher that I can. But if I'm not, or if the result is kids that move on unphased, does that ruin the dream? I'm not sure that it does for me, but is that just naive thought? It definitely shook me up. I like kids, I like English, and I would absolutely love to teach and bring that enthusiasm to my pupils. What happens if I don't? Do I shrug it off but go home still a little disheartened? Do I just have to know that I'm doing the best I can? I specifically decided I couldn't handle psychology (although I love it too, and both of my parents are psychologists) because my heart breaks so easily with people who can't get better when I'm trying to help.

Is teaching so different?

I'm taking a breather. I need to love what I do. And I believe that I'll love this, I just have trouble with the uncertain.

Cheater

Yesterday I cheated on my absolutely-no-sweets diet. It's ok to be disappointed in me, I am disappointed in me. Because not only did I cheat on the diet that betters me as a person, but I cheated with lemon meringue pie. Not something delicious like chocolate, I did it with lemon meringue. I feel like if this was a relationship situation it would be like me and chocolate decided to take a break because things were getting out of hand, and then I went out and had sex with lemon meringue, who doesn't even mean anything to me!! But it doesn't matter, because I still cheated.

So why did I do it then? As it turns out, I have a fairly acceptable excuse. For the last week my jaw has been in severe pain due, in part, to a condition I've had my whole life. It makes it really hard to eat, talk, and other things that should be normal. This is, of course, when things go wrong. Anyway, things had been going severely wrong causing me to be popping pills like Dr. Gregory House. Our dining hall had virtually nothing soft to eat and as I sat, hungry and disappointed, I pondered having pie out loud. And within 2 minutes my roommate brought me some and told me I just needed to eat. I love her. I hate that I cheated, but it was necessary. And maybe it's better that it was only lemon meringue.

Today I went to my hometown briefly to have my shit taken care of, so I feel significantly better. So no more excuses..hopefully. Except for Valentine's day which will end with copious amounts of chocolate.