To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "Macbeth", Act 5 scene 5
12 December 2009
28 September 2009
Just had the best cell phone conversation with David.
D: Save me a seat in class!
L: What?
D: Save me a seat!
L: You bought a CD?
D: No, save me a seat in class!
L: You have a speech in class?
D: SAVE ME A SEAT
L: Hide and seek? What?
D: Oh my god.... Save me a seat in class
L: Ohhhh!! Of course I'll save you a seat!
The sad thing is that I was being 100% serious & couldn't understand him, he thought I was just messing around. It was an "oh duh" moment when I realized what he meant hahaha.
D: Save me a seat in class!
L: What?
D: Save me a seat!
L: You bought a CD?
D: No, save me a seat in class!
L: You have a speech in class?
D: SAVE ME A SEAT
L: Hide and seek? What?
D: Oh my god.... Save me a seat in class
L: Ohhhh!! Of course I'll save you a seat!
The sad thing is that I was being 100% serious & couldn't understand him, he thought I was just messing around. It was an "oh duh" moment when I realized what he meant hahaha.
16 September 2009
10 September 2009
Test anxiety
I finished my test for anatomy - my chemistry test for anatomy, about 20 minutes ago. I finished a good 15 minutes before anyone else, and as I sat here at a picnic table outside, i can feel the doubts mounting as I wait for class to pick back up again. I only had 4 questions I didn't know straightaway, I checked all my answers twice, and still I am beginning to wonder if I messed up royally. When I turned in my test, my professor asked me if I had skipped a few pages - I was like nope, and I checked all my work!! He just sort of looked at me like he was disapppointed I didn't take more time.
I've been like that for as long as I can remember - nearly always the first one finished with an assignment or test, teachers and professors always annoyed until they figure out that it's how I operate. I just hope I wasn't over-confident today, it would suck to have turned it in so early and not do well. But I didn't rush it, I took my time, I'm just that fast I guess!
Got my short-short story back, in creative writing, the professor really liked it. He only crossed out one line and said that it was more powerful without it in there - he had a point. Said the rest was great. Still debating whether or nontoxic post it here because it is so personal. We'll see.
I've been like that for as long as I can remember - nearly always the first one finished with an assignment or test, teachers and professors always annoyed until they figure out that it's how I operate. I just hope I wasn't over-confident today, it would suck to have turned it in so early and not do well. But I didn't rush it, I took my time, I'm just that fast I guess!
Got my short-short story back, in creative writing, the professor really liked it. He only crossed out one line and said that it was more powerful without it in there - he had a point. Said the rest was great. Still debating whether or nontoxic post it here because it is so personal. We'll see.
09 September 2009
09/09/09
Happy 09/09/09 :)
I really just wanted an excuse to make a blog post today.
I started a new job this past weekend. I'm loving it. I work at a pet boarding place for when people go on vacation, and while there is some poopage to clean up, and kennels to clean, most of my day is spent playing with dogs, walking dogs, snuggling dogs. And I get paid for it which is pretty damn awesome.
For instance, on my first day of work, I fell in love with a Basset Hound who barked so low and sweet that I wanted to take him home with me. Lots of love for Basset Hounds now apparently because I just think they're precious.
Today, I got to play fetch for 20 minutes with two 8-month old golden retrievers. They had so much energy and were such fun dogs. And I threw with my left hand so don't worry, my shoulder is doing fine with the new job.
I went in at 6:45 this morning and they let me go around 9:30 because we only had like, 15 or something dogs today. This past weekend, Labor Day Weekend, we had about 100 according to my manager. Those days I did not get to come home early, haha.
But it works out rather well for me today because I have a chemistry test... in anatomy.. tomorrow. That's far more complicated than I feel like explaining at the moment so I'll just leave you think about how ridiculous that is.
I really just wanted an excuse to make a blog post today.
I started a new job this past weekend. I'm loving it. I work at a pet boarding place for when people go on vacation, and while there is some poopage to clean up, and kennels to clean, most of my day is spent playing with dogs, walking dogs, snuggling dogs. And I get paid for it which is pretty damn awesome.
For instance, on my first day of work, I fell in love with a Basset Hound who barked so low and sweet that I wanted to take him home with me. Lots of love for Basset Hounds now apparently because I just think they're precious.
Today, I got to play fetch for 20 minutes with two 8-month old golden retrievers. They had so much energy and were such fun dogs. And I threw with my left hand so don't worry, my shoulder is doing fine with the new job.
I went in at 6:45 this morning and they let me go around 9:30 because we only had like, 15 or something dogs today. This past weekend, Labor Day Weekend, we had about 100 according to my manager. Those days I did not get to come home early, haha.
But it works out rather well for me today because I have a chemistry test... in anatomy.. tomorrow. That's far more complicated than I feel like explaining at the moment so I'll just leave you think about how ridiculous that is.
05 September 2009
The best view in the world.
This is the end of my street.
Really, this is the end of my street, at sunset, from the back of my horse - everything looks better when you're seeing it through a horse's ears.
I took this picture in Fall 2008, around Thanksgiving.
100 Word Sentence
This was an interesting challenge in Creative Writing, we had to make a sentence that was exactly 100 words - and it had to be one sentence. We could connect it however possible as long as it flowed well and sounded good, he recommend the use of dashes, semicolons, etc. This did not have to be fiction, he recommended that it was something real because it was mostly an exercise in description. He wanted us to paint pictures with it. I thought I would share it with you guys... the people that read my blog... Dave & Mom, mostly, haha.
"When I saw Monty for the first time - his chestnut coat shining in the sun, a wonky shaped star on his forehead, his mane long with tangles and burs, and his ribs showing through his skinny body - I knew I had found my next horse, because there was a sparkle in his eyes; despite the years of abuse and neglect that he had gone through, there was a playful spirit about him - an attitude that suggested his bratty demeanor, and he looked at me as if he was daring me, challenging me to turn him into something more than this."
Now obviously, I took some liberties here. Monty was in excellent condition when I met him for the first time - Cathy, Sam, and everyone at the barn where he was kept had really taken stellar care of him. However when THEY found him he was in the sort of condition described above - after being neglected, covered in fungus, not well taken care of. The bit about his eyes, though - that's real.
A horse's eyes can say a lot about him, if you know what you're looking for. Monty's eyes are mischievous, intelligent, and kind.
He was diagnosed with ringbone two weeks ago - he's got bones growing in his hoof/lower leg in the joints in weird places that make it hurt him to walk. He's been off for what feels like most of the summer but it really has just been August. It isn't very bad, right now, but from my research it seems that there's no cure for it. They can slow down the development and make him comfortable, but it's a very serious sort of thing that will likely shorten his career significantly.
I want to have him forever. When he's too old, or in this new vision, when he's too lame, to be ridden anymore, he's going to live wherever I am. I'll put up a fence and he'll live in the backyard - he can retire happily just like Black Beauty. :)
I took this picture of his forehead sometime in the past year (because I took it with my iPhone, which I've had a little over a year). I'd guess sometime in the fall of 2008 or early 2009. It's one of my favorite pictures of him.
"When I saw Monty for the first time - his chestnut coat shining in the sun, a wonky shaped star on his forehead, his mane long with tangles and burs, and his ribs showing through his skinny body - I knew I had found my next horse, because there was a sparkle in his eyes; despite the years of abuse and neglect that he had gone through, there was a playful spirit about him - an attitude that suggested his bratty demeanor, and he looked at me as if he was daring me, challenging me to turn him into something more than this."
Now obviously, I took some liberties here. Monty was in excellent condition when I met him for the first time - Cathy, Sam, and everyone at the barn where he was kept had really taken stellar care of him. However when THEY found him he was in the sort of condition described above - after being neglected, covered in fungus, not well taken care of. The bit about his eyes, though - that's real.
A horse's eyes can say a lot about him, if you know what you're looking for. Monty's eyes are mischievous, intelligent, and kind.
He was diagnosed with ringbone two weeks ago - he's got bones growing in his hoof/lower leg in the joints in weird places that make it hurt him to walk. He's been off for what feels like most of the summer but it really has just been August. It isn't very bad, right now, but from my research it seems that there's no cure for it. They can slow down the development and make him comfortable, but it's a very serious sort of thing that will likely shorten his career significantly.
I want to have him forever. When he's too old, or in this new vision, when he's too lame, to be ridden anymore, he's going to live wherever I am. I'll put up a fence and he'll live in the backyard - he can retire happily just like Black Beauty. :)
I took this picture of his forehead sometime in the past year (because I took it with my iPhone, which I've had a little over a year). I'd guess sometime in the fall of 2008 or early 2009. It's one of my favorite pictures of him.
01 September 2009
Some Things That Inspire Me
1. Vanessa Carlton's album, Heroes & Thieves
2. Emily's property in Goochland where I (used to) work
3. People I love
When I was first formulating the plotline for my story, and the characters in it, I listened to this album very nearly at all times. Specifically the songs "Heroes & Thieves" and "More Than This," but I'd have the whole album on repeat while I cleaned the stalls. The woods behind her house, that I walked the horses through every day, always felt to me very magical, and it was there that the forest in my story was born. In my head it looks exactly like that - only of course very much larger. The characters in my stories definitely draw inspiration from people I know in real life. One of my largest goals is to make my characters believable - their habits, their flaws, etc. Typically a friend wouldn't necessarily recognize themselves in a character since I mix and match until I get the right combination of traits, but the people who inspire me definitely find their way into the characters.
I did a writing assignment last night instead of going to sleep or studying for my anatomy quiz. We had to make a list, in class, of things that we feared, images we'd never forget, smells we like (or don't like), we had to have at least 5 of everything and there were about 10 different categories. Then the writing exercise was to pull something from the list and write about it. I chose one of my fears - losing the people I love, and combined it with one of the images I'll never forget - seeing my father in the hospital bed. I wrote what my professor calls a "short short story" - just a couple hundred words - but it was incredibly powerful and emotionally exhausting for me. It was about a girl who had just lost her father.
Mom, you'd hate it, I think it's just like those book club books you read that you say you hate because they always end in death. Well this started in death and wasn't long enough to get very far, so I think you'd feel the same way about it.
Except for the fact that it was started by my own fear and memory, the story itself was entirely fiction. I made it all up, but I put so much of myself into it, that I was crying nearly the whole time I wrote it. It was like acting, the way that I pulled it out of myself from darker places, even though none of it was true. David said it was very powerful - I hated every minute of it (immediately regretting that I hadn't just gone to bed before I started) and don't really want to read it to revise it so that I can turn it in on Thursday.
He's the only one that has seen both that story and what I've got so far of my novel, and I think he preferred the writing in this short story. I will post it here once my professor has had a chance to grade it. I definitely prefer the writing process of the novel - fun, instead of a chore - but I think there's got to be a balance. A way to use the characters and story I love, but with the same moving writing style of the other story. It'll just be a matter of finding a way to do it.
2. Emily's property in Goochland where I (used to) work
3. People I love
When I was first formulating the plotline for my story, and the characters in it, I listened to this album very nearly at all times. Specifically the songs "Heroes & Thieves" and "More Than This," but I'd have the whole album on repeat while I cleaned the stalls. The woods behind her house, that I walked the horses through every day, always felt to me very magical, and it was there that the forest in my story was born. In my head it looks exactly like that - only of course very much larger. The characters in my stories definitely draw inspiration from people I know in real life. One of my largest goals is to make my characters believable - their habits, their flaws, etc. Typically a friend wouldn't necessarily recognize themselves in a character since I mix and match until I get the right combination of traits, but the people who inspire me definitely find their way into the characters.
I did a writing assignment last night instead of going to sleep or studying for my anatomy quiz. We had to make a list, in class, of things that we feared, images we'd never forget, smells we like (or don't like), we had to have at least 5 of everything and there were about 10 different categories. Then the writing exercise was to pull something from the list and write about it. I chose one of my fears - losing the people I love, and combined it with one of the images I'll never forget - seeing my father in the hospital bed. I wrote what my professor calls a "short short story" - just a couple hundred words - but it was incredibly powerful and emotionally exhausting for me. It was about a girl who had just lost her father.
Mom, you'd hate it, I think it's just like those book club books you read that you say you hate because they always end in death. Well this started in death and wasn't long enough to get very far, so I think you'd feel the same way about it.
Except for the fact that it was started by my own fear and memory, the story itself was entirely fiction. I made it all up, but I put so much of myself into it, that I was crying nearly the whole time I wrote it. It was like acting, the way that I pulled it out of myself from darker places, even though none of it was true. David said it was very powerful - I hated every minute of it (immediately regretting that I hadn't just gone to bed before I started) and don't really want to read it to revise it so that I can turn it in on Thursday.
He's the only one that has seen both that story and what I've got so far of my novel, and I think he preferred the writing in this short story. I will post it here once my professor has had a chance to grade it. I definitely prefer the writing process of the novel - fun, instead of a chore - but I think there's got to be a balance. A way to use the characters and story I love, but with the same moving writing style of the other story. It'll just be a matter of finding a way to do it.
27 August 2009
Strong at the Broken Places
"The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places."
- Ernest Hemingway
I saw this quote on a childhood friend's facebook page last night, and I haven't been able to get it out of my head. I was thinking about how much it applies to my life, and reflecting over the last few years. I started this blog in 2006 when I was really depressed (though I have since gone back and deleted the evidence) and the difference in the last 3 years is really striking.
There have really only been two real "breaks" in my life - one with my dreams, which I've written about earlier, and one with my heart. And I really do feel stronger because of both of them. I'm a better, healthier, happier person because of it. And I've learned not to take certain things for granted.
For instance, and I'll try to leave the nauseatingly sweet details out of this - my love with David. He is genuinely the nicest, sweetest guy I've ever met. We complement each other so perfectly that it's hard to believe I haven't loved him all of my life. He gives me love & support in a way that no one ever has; he inspires me to be a better person just by being in my life. I feel like the luckiest girl, and every single day I am thankful that by some miracle he feels the same way about me. It's the sort of romance you read about in fairytales, the kind I didn't believe actually existed until I was fortunate enough to experience it myself. And it isn't just me that's noticed it - I've had friends tell me the same thing. One told me that we remind her of Edward & Bella, and while I grimaced at that originally, I do sort of see her point. For me, there is only David. I just don't see other men that way anymore.
That's not to say that we don't argue, or that everything's perfect all the time - because it's not. But I do know how lucky I am, and three years ago I was not able to see the positive side of things. I've grown up so much in the past few years that I surprise myself sometimes, I think if I met the 2006 version of Libby I'd barely recognize myself. I'd have some things to say to her, though, about the way that things are going to get better - better than I ever imagined. About how it's okay to make mistakes because they'll lead you down paths that you couldn't see before. About how it's okay to break down now, because in time, you'll be stronger than ever.
2006 Libby would not have been able to deal with 2009. It's been a difficult one, starting with January 5th or whatever day it was that I was crushed by Traveller. It's been hard on my emotions - struggling through classes all semester and then having to drop them in the last few weeks. It's been harder on my body - surgery and the recovery has been more painful than even dealing with my migraines circa 2002. I think that 2006 Libby would have given up. But the me today has kept pushing through everything because I know that, in the end, it'll all be worth it.
In fact, if I was given the choice today, to live one year of my life to date over and over for all of eternity, sort of like a messed up version of Groundhog's Day, I'd pick 2009. A lot of that is because of him - but it's because of me, too. I'm really happy with the person that I've become. And even with all of the physical pain of this spring and summer, this really has been an amazing year.
- Ernest Hemingway
I saw this quote on a childhood friend's facebook page last night, and I haven't been able to get it out of my head. I was thinking about how much it applies to my life, and reflecting over the last few years. I started this blog in 2006 when I was really depressed (though I have since gone back and deleted the evidence) and the difference in the last 3 years is really striking.
There have really only been two real "breaks" in my life - one with my dreams, which I've written about earlier, and one with my heart. And I really do feel stronger because of both of them. I'm a better, healthier, happier person because of it. And I've learned not to take certain things for granted.
For instance, and I'll try to leave the nauseatingly sweet details out of this - my love with David. He is genuinely the nicest, sweetest guy I've ever met. We complement each other so perfectly that it's hard to believe I haven't loved him all of my life. He gives me love & support in a way that no one ever has; he inspires me to be a better person just by being in my life. I feel like the luckiest girl, and every single day I am thankful that by some miracle he feels the same way about me. It's the sort of romance you read about in fairytales, the kind I didn't believe actually existed until I was fortunate enough to experience it myself. And it isn't just me that's noticed it - I've had friends tell me the same thing. One told me that we remind her of Edward & Bella, and while I grimaced at that originally, I do sort of see her point. For me, there is only David. I just don't see other men that way anymore.
That's not to say that we don't argue, or that everything's perfect all the time - because it's not. But I do know how lucky I am, and three years ago I was not able to see the positive side of things. I've grown up so much in the past few years that I surprise myself sometimes, I think if I met the 2006 version of Libby I'd barely recognize myself. I'd have some things to say to her, though, about the way that things are going to get better - better than I ever imagined. About how it's okay to make mistakes because they'll lead you down paths that you couldn't see before. About how it's okay to break down now, because in time, you'll be stronger than ever.
2006 Libby would not have been able to deal with 2009. It's been a difficult one, starting with January 5th or whatever day it was that I was crushed by Traveller. It's been hard on my emotions - struggling through classes all semester and then having to drop them in the last few weeks. It's been harder on my body - surgery and the recovery has been more painful than even dealing with my migraines circa 2002. I think that 2006 Libby would have given up. But the me today has kept pushing through everything because I know that, in the end, it'll all be worth it.
In fact, if I was given the choice today, to live one year of my life to date over and over for all of eternity, sort of like a messed up version of Groundhog's Day, I'd pick 2009. A lot of that is because of him - but it's because of me, too. I'm really happy with the person that I've become. And even with all of the physical pain of this spring and summer, this really has been an amazing year.
26 August 2009
History Class, the Drinking Game
Really this is a bit of an inside joke between me and David buuuut it was really funny so I wanted to save it somewhere.
Drink...
-Every time there's a silence after a bad joke
-Every time fat girl laughs or is amazed by something that is not funny or common fact
-Every time professor makes a crazy hand movement
-Every time professor makes a sexist or racist comment
-Every time professor gives us detailed information about her extended family
-Every time professor tells us the opposite is something is anti-that something
I'm sure we'll add to this list over the course of the semester.
Drink...
-Every time there's a silence after a bad joke
-Every time fat girl laughs or is amazed by something that is not funny or common fact
-Every time professor makes a crazy hand movement
-Every time professor makes a sexist or racist comment
-Every time professor gives us detailed information about her extended family
-Every time professor tells us the opposite is something is anti-that something
I'm sure we'll add to this list over the course of the semester.
24 August 2009
I feel so old today.
Cross posted from Facebook, David has started blogging again so I figure - I can, too :) I doubt I'll keep up with it but who knows.
The first day of classes were today - the umpteenth first day of classes in my lifetime thus far. But today is the first time that I felt really *old* because of it.
I'm taking a US history class with David this semester - one I almost made it all the way through last semester before having to drop towards the end due to my shoulder. That class was lovely, the professor was very good and the rest of the people in the class were at least somewhat mature and around my age.
Tonight was very, very different. As Dave and I watched the students file into class we were both struck by how young everyone looked - he even commented about some of them looking about 12. I figured they must be 18 (college, right?) but I kind of agreed with him. Everyone was so... childish. The way they acted and dressed really made me feel about 10 years older than they were.
The "professor" is, I think, my age. She's loud and can't follow a single thought without going off on approximately 3 unrelated stories. I wish I was exaggerating. While discussing the syllabus she gave a run down of her friends' and family members' favorite movies. It also took her the entire class period to READ through the syllabus - the whole hour and a half. Who does that??
And of course the young girls in the class thought this was fantastic - one in particular was laughing like she was watching a comedy show. I really didn't see the humor in the grading scale or test schedule, but admittedly, I wasn't exactly looking for it.
I'm all about fun in the classroom - make it an enjoyable experience, I appreciate that. But I don't appreciate such inability to focus on the subject matter that you're getting paid to teach - that we are paying to receive. Is it at all relevant to the discussion that when you were in Washington DC you saw a tall man in a loincloth made from bluejeans and carrying a spear? Because I thought we were talking about class objectives.
Six years ago, would I have found that story entertaining? Possibly. I've always been more mature than most people my age when it comes to some things. The teacher was very obviously trying to be "cool" - and seriously failing, in my opinion. You know what makes a professor cool?
Respect for students - treat me like an adult
Sense of humor - applied to the subject matter appropriately.
Focus - be the authority figure, teach us, we're here to learn.
And of course a knowledge of the material, and admittedly, that's the one thing she did seem to have.
I'm sure that's one of the problems of being in school this long - specifically of being in community college and taking mainly entry level courses. Most people there are straight out of high school, and every year I get further from that point in my life. The people that teach here are not excellent instructors, for the most part - the best ones will go to "real" colleges, you know? You do get some good ones and I've been fairly lucky so far in my time there in that I've only had one professor I really hated.
Good things about the class though - it'll be easy. 4 tests, which count for 90% of the grade - 10% for participation and attendance. No papers or anything. I could do this with my eyes close and my ears plugged. Too easy, drill sergeant.
Creative Writing and then Anatomy tomorrow. I've been trying for 2 years to get into this writing class so I'm excited for that one - and Anatomy is supposed to be really hard, even at Tyler, so hopefully it'll give me the challenge that I love in a class. As for History, I've got David at my side (literally) to help me get through it and I think he'll keep me from going crazy with boredom :)
The first day of classes were today - the umpteenth first day of classes in my lifetime thus far. But today is the first time that I felt really *old* because of it.
I'm taking a US history class with David this semester - one I almost made it all the way through last semester before having to drop towards the end due to my shoulder. That class was lovely, the professor was very good and the rest of the people in the class were at least somewhat mature and around my age.
Tonight was very, very different. As Dave and I watched the students file into class we were both struck by how young everyone looked - he even commented about some of them looking about 12. I figured they must be 18 (college, right?) but I kind of agreed with him. Everyone was so... childish. The way they acted and dressed really made me feel about 10 years older than they were.
The "professor" is, I think, my age. She's loud and can't follow a single thought without going off on approximately 3 unrelated stories. I wish I was exaggerating. While discussing the syllabus she gave a run down of her friends' and family members' favorite movies. It also took her the entire class period to READ through the syllabus - the whole hour and a half. Who does that??
And of course the young girls in the class thought this was fantastic - one in particular was laughing like she was watching a comedy show. I really didn't see the humor in the grading scale or test schedule, but admittedly, I wasn't exactly looking for it.
I'm all about fun in the classroom - make it an enjoyable experience, I appreciate that. But I don't appreciate such inability to focus on the subject matter that you're getting paid to teach - that we are paying to receive. Is it at all relevant to the discussion that when you were in Washington DC you saw a tall man in a loincloth made from bluejeans and carrying a spear? Because I thought we were talking about class objectives.
Six years ago, would I have found that story entertaining? Possibly. I've always been more mature than most people my age when it comes to some things. The teacher was very obviously trying to be "cool" - and seriously failing, in my opinion. You know what makes a professor cool?
Respect for students - treat me like an adult
Sense of humor - applied to the subject matter appropriately.
Focus - be the authority figure, teach us, we're here to learn.
And of course a knowledge of the material, and admittedly, that's the one thing she did seem to have.
I'm sure that's one of the problems of being in school this long - specifically of being in community college and taking mainly entry level courses. Most people there are straight out of high school, and every year I get further from that point in my life. The people that teach here are not excellent instructors, for the most part - the best ones will go to "real" colleges, you know? You do get some good ones and I've been fairly lucky so far in my time there in that I've only had one professor I really hated.
Good things about the class though - it'll be easy. 4 tests, which count for 90% of the grade - 10% for participation and attendance. No papers or anything. I could do this with my eyes close and my ears plugged. Too easy, drill sergeant.
Creative Writing and then Anatomy tomorrow. I've been trying for 2 years to get into this writing class so I'm excited for that one - and Anatomy is supposed to be really hard, even at Tyler, so hopefully it'll give me the challenge that I love in a class. As for History, I've got David at my side (literally) to help me get through it and I think he'll keep me from going crazy with boredom :)
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