Yeah, it's 1:46 AM and I'm posting. I just got home.
I guess that ever since I saw Rent I've wanted to have some sort of amazing, defining New Year's Eve. I've wanted to be with all my friends for one last year, to see them all together.
It didn't exactly happen tonight. My friends were scattered about the city. Some (Shauna, Ellie, etc.) were at a party getting wasted. Some were home alone. I love them all.
As for me, I was hanging out with three of my friends watching Mulan. I forgot how good that movie is. It wasn't quite the Rent New Year I was dreaming of, but it was nice. I knew I was with people that cared about me. None of that middle school poser crap.
I'm so glad my friends care. I hated those few years when I was 11-12ish when I didn't really have any real friends besides Olivia. Now, I am so grateful for them.
Happy New Year's. Everything is possible in the middle of the night. Everything is possible because the world hit 2000 and the computers didn't crash. Everything is possible because there were bombs in Hong Kong and the world didn't fall apart. Millennium with a capital M is coming, but it's not here yet. For one more year, one more night, one more moment...
everything hangs in a pure space of possibility.
I'm going to be happy this year.
Happy freaking 2007.
"Maybe this year will be better than the rest..."
Sunday, December 31, 2006
New Years Resolutions
I have copied in last year's resolutions so I can first see if I've accomplished anything this year. After that I'll address this years.
Written last year: (December 2005)
What is most important is goals. Nothing is perfect in life but the possibility of transcending. I make these every year and I never seem to fulfill them, which leaves me feeling guilty. But their existance remains a constant reminder that something better is in fact possible, and that I don't have to live as a blur in the night.
1. I am good at debate. Not because I win, or do well, or anything, but because I am confident and love debating and can survive any sort of 'failure.' I have a safety net and can cope with all situations. Because of this I always do my best because I am not afraid of being free.
Have I accomplished this? I think so. I believe I am good at debate, whether I do well or not. I have become confident this year, these past few tournaments. I kept debating even when I wanted to quit because I believed I was a huge failure. I haven't cut over debate at all. I'm starting to do my best.
2. I don't think I'm fat. I don't throw up, don't buy laxatives at Wal Mart at the self-checkout counter, don't hate food, don't cry, don't over-exercise or under-exercise. I maintain a weight I am happy with.
I still think I'm fat, but I haven't OD'd once this year (aka I haven't thrown up) that I can remember. I haven't bought any laxatives in a few months. I certainly haven't overexercised... I'm probably underexcercising. I maintained a weight I was happy with (110) until September. Now I'm not happy with my weight, but I'm trying to deal with it in a healthy way.
3. I don't hurt myself. I may feel like I want to sometimes but I always call someone or run or throw ice cubes or draw until the emotion seeps out of me and not the blood. I have learned how to live without pain.
I have only cut twice in seven months (since I cut my wrist). Before that, I was cutting very infrequently. I have learned to call people. I still haven't entirely learned to live without pain, but I'm doing much better than a year ago.
4. I am happy. This doesn't mean nothing ever goes wrong. It means I am okay with nothing being inherently wrong in my life. I am okay with being emotionally healthy and I know how to remain healthy without slowly decaying.
I have been intermittently happy this year. Lately I haven't been because I haven't been taking my meds the way I should (I really need some angel to make me take them twice a day). But I am learning to be okay without being sick. I haven't really been slowly decaying. I've had a few minor breakdowns, but nothing terrible besides the cut wrist.
5. I know how to love without hurting myself. I know the balance between taking a risk and preserving my sanity. I know how to love with all my heart without fearing the heartache that love could possibly bring me. I trust people and am open to them completely, and because I trust them I am not afraid that they will hurt me. If they ever do hurt me it doesn't matter; it was worth it for love.
I do believe I have learned how to love this year. That's one thing I think I've definitely accomplished. I believe it's worth it to love even if it hurts. I have opened myself up completely to the people I love, specifically Josh. I love Josh, but I don't let him hurt me at all anymore. I have learned.
6. I am not separated from everyone else by a mental screen. I don't start talking about astrophysics or psychology to my friends unless they are friends that are interested in that. I actually participate in coversations instead of floating somewhere around Pluto. I do more on the weekends than just read and do homework. When my friends call me to do something, I actually do it. When I am depressed I call someone and say we should watch a movie or something.
This one is a bit more difficult as I am convinced that sometimes it is sewn into my very personality. I have gotten better at choosing friends that think they way I do. I have been more openly myself with those friends. I have been doing a lot with my friends on the weekends. I have attempted to make contact with people when depressed. I'm getting somewhat better. But somedays I don't think I'm getting better at all, so I don't know.
7. I tell people when I'm not okay. I don't just let it build and then silently implode, or as the case has been lately, burden the people I trust with burdens they don't deserve. I am able to take care of myself, and that involves allowing myself to appear "weak," because in getting myself help I am not really admitting to weakness, but rather to strength.
I have gotten much better at this. I have been trying to talk to people when I don't feel well. This blog has helped a lot, because several of my friends read it, and I try to be really honest on here. I don't believe asking for help is weak anymore. I do believe it's the strong action.
8. I never take other people's medications or overdose on mine because I respect my body and my mind too much to polute it.
I have, I am fairly certain, done very well at this one except for that one day when I took xanax in the morning and ran into the mailbox. Other than that, I don't think I've abused drugs in any way. In fact, at the moment I should take more of them.
9. I am not afraid of the pain that can accompany taking risks. I am afraid of the numbness that can accompany stagnancy.
I'm still working on this one, but I believe I've made progress.
1. Go 4-1 consistently in debate
I have gone 4-1 at three out of the four past tournaments.
2. Exercise daily, but not too much
I haven't been exercising... :-( at least not very often.
3. Lose five pounds
I've gained five pounds... but I love myself anyway!
4. Get a 33 or 34 on my ACT's and something (I can't remember) on my SAT's
I got a 33 and a 2240, both adequate scores.
5. Get into the MIT summer camp
Didn't get in...
6. Apply to several colleges including MIT, Caltech, and BYU
I have applied to six colleges and gotten into three so far!
7. Get into those colleges
See above
8. Make varsity tennis, and if I don't be the best at JV, make those stupid coaches know my name (STOP LOSING ALL ABILITY AROUND PEERS)
I sort of did this for a while, but then failed. But I think that quitting was the hard choice for me, and the right one, no matter how much I hate quitting.
9. Start practicing violin/cello/piano enough that they don't collect dust in between lessons
I definitely have failed this goal :-(
10. Donate to charity
I still need to do this as well.
All in all, I'm pretty happy with the progress I've made in the past year. I really do believe I have made progress in most areas of my life.
And here they are, the 2007 Resolutions:
1. Break to sems at state and win five debates at NFL's
2. Stay close to Josh, and open with him.
3. Stay in touch with my friends when I go to college.
4. Don't drink one drop of alcohol or coffee, don't abuse drugs in any way (that includes laxatives, caffeine pills, diet pills, OD's, self-medicating etc), don't smoke anything (although I certainly never plan on that ever).
5. Be happy consistently.
6. Be outgoing and friendly (especially the first few days of college)
7. Don't live for grades or anything. Stop conforming to the American chaotic culture. Don't stress myself out to badly or overwork myself at all. Know when to say NO. Don't get overinvolved.
8. Don't watch any movies compromising my standards.
9. Be a valadictorian (I will know about this in three weeks, but it will still be next year).
10. Start exercising regularly.
11. Stop sleeping through seminary (I don't care how I have to do it, I really need to stop sleeping through that class!)
12. Put more effort into my hair, face, clothes on a daily basis
13. Get to know people I would otherwise regret not getting to know before I left.
14. Not be too nostalgic/moody/homesick my first few weeks of college.
IT'S 2007, BABY!!! This is the year I graduate from high school!!!! This is the year everything changes! This is the first year of my life I live alone!!!
I'm going to make it the best year yet.
Written last year: (December 2005)
What is most important is goals. Nothing is perfect in life but the possibility of transcending. I make these every year and I never seem to fulfill them, which leaves me feeling guilty. But their existance remains a constant reminder that something better is in fact possible, and that I don't have to live as a blur in the night.
1. I am good at debate. Not because I win, or do well, or anything, but because I am confident and love debating and can survive any sort of 'failure.' I have a safety net and can cope with all situations. Because of this I always do my best because I am not afraid of being free.
Have I accomplished this? I think so. I believe I am good at debate, whether I do well or not. I have become confident this year, these past few tournaments. I kept debating even when I wanted to quit because I believed I was a huge failure. I haven't cut over debate at all. I'm starting to do my best.
2. I don't think I'm fat. I don't throw up, don't buy laxatives at Wal Mart at the self-checkout counter, don't hate food, don't cry, don't over-exercise or under-exercise. I maintain a weight I am happy with.
I still think I'm fat, but I haven't OD'd once this year (aka I haven't thrown up) that I can remember. I haven't bought any laxatives in a few months. I certainly haven't overexercised... I'm probably underexcercising. I maintained a weight I was happy with (110) until September. Now I'm not happy with my weight, but I'm trying to deal with it in a healthy way.
3. I don't hurt myself. I may feel like I want to sometimes but I always call someone or run or throw ice cubes or draw until the emotion seeps out of me and not the blood. I have learned how to live without pain.
I have only cut twice in seven months (since I cut my wrist). Before that, I was cutting very infrequently. I have learned to call people. I still haven't entirely learned to live without pain, but I'm doing much better than a year ago.
4. I am happy. This doesn't mean nothing ever goes wrong. It means I am okay with nothing being inherently wrong in my life. I am okay with being emotionally healthy and I know how to remain healthy without slowly decaying.
I have been intermittently happy this year. Lately I haven't been because I haven't been taking my meds the way I should (I really need some angel to make me take them twice a day). But I am learning to be okay without being sick. I haven't really been slowly decaying. I've had a few minor breakdowns, but nothing terrible besides the cut wrist.
5. I know how to love without hurting myself. I know the balance between taking a risk and preserving my sanity. I know how to love with all my heart without fearing the heartache that love could possibly bring me. I trust people and am open to them completely, and because I trust them I am not afraid that they will hurt me. If they ever do hurt me it doesn't matter; it was worth it for love.
I do believe I have learned how to love this year. That's one thing I think I've definitely accomplished. I believe it's worth it to love even if it hurts. I have opened myself up completely to the people I love, specifically Josh. I love Josh, but I don't let him hurt me at all anymore. I have learned.
6. I am not separated from everyone else by a mental screen. I don't start talking about astrophysics or psychology to my friends unless they are friends that are interested in that. I actually participate in coversations instead of floating somewhere around Pluto. I do more on the weekends than just read and do homework. When my friends call me to do something, I actually do it. When I am depressed I call someone and say we should watch a movie or something.
This one is a bit more difficult as I am convinced that sometimes it is sewn into my very personality. I have gotten better at choosing friends that think they way I do. I have been more openly myself with those friends. I have been doing a lot with my friends on the weekends. I have attempted to make contact with people when depressed. I'm getting somewhat better. But somedays I don't think I'm getting better at all, so I don't know.
7. I tell people when I'm not okay. I don't just let it build and then silently implode, or as the case has been lately, burden the people I trust with burdens they don't deserve. I am able to take care of myself, and that involves allowing myself to appear "weak," because in getting myself help I am not really admitting to weakness, but rather to strength.
I have gotten much better at this. I have been trying to talk to people when I don't feel well. This blog has helped a lot, because several of my friends read it, and I try to be really honest on here. I don't believe asking for help is weak anymore. I do believe it's the strong action.
8. I never take other people's medications or overdose on mine because I respect my body and my mind too much to polute it.
I have, I am fairly certain, done very well at this one except for that one day when I took xanax in the morning and ran into the mailbox. Other than that, I don't think I've abused drugs in any way. In fact, at the moment I should take more of them.
9. I am not afraid of the pain that can accompany taking risks. I am afraid of the numbness that can accompany stagnancy.
I'm still working on this one, but I believe I've made progress.
1. Go 4-1 consistently in debate
I have gone 4-1 at three out of the four past tournaments.
2. Exercise daily, but not too much
I haven't been exercising... :-( at least not very often.
3. Lose five pounds
I've gained five pounds... but I love myself anyway!
4. Get a 33 or 34 on my ACT's and something (I can't remember) on my SAT's
I got a 33 and a 2240, both adequate scores.
5. Get into the MIT summer camp
Didn't get in...
6. Apply to several colleges including MIT, Caltech, and BYU
I have applied to six colleges and gotten into three so far!
7. Get into those colleges
See above
8. Make varsity tennis, and if I don't be the best at JV, make those stupid coaches know my name (STOP LOSING ALL ABILITY AROUND PEERS)
I sort of did this for a while, but then failed. But I think that quitting was the hard choice for me, and the right one, no matter how much I hate quitting.
9. Start practicing violin/cello/piano enough that they don't collect dust in between lessons
I definitely have failed this goal :-(
10. Donate to charity
I still need to do this as well.
All in all, I'm pretty happy with the progress I've made in the past year. I really do believe I have made progress in most areas of my life.
And here they are, the 2007 Resolutions:
1. Break to sems at state and win five debates at NFL's
2. Stay close to Josh, and open with him.
3. Stay in touch with my friends when I go to college.
4. Don't drink one drop of alcohol or coffee, don't abuse drugs in any way (that includes laxatives, caffeine pills, diet pills, OD's, self-medicating etc), don't smoke anything (although I certainly never plan on that ever).
5. Be happy consistently.
6. Be outgoing and friendly (especially the first few days of college)
7. Don't live for grades or anything. Stop conforming to the American chaotic culture. Don't stress myself out to badly or overwork myself at all. Know when to say NO. Don't get overinvolved.
8. Don't watch any movies compromising my standards.
9. Be a valadictorian (I will know about this in three weeks, but it will still be next year).
10. Start exercising regularly.
11. Stop sleeping through seminary (I don't care how I have to do it, I really need to stop sleeping through that class!)
12. Put more effort into my hair, face, clothes on a daily basis
13. Get to know people I would otherwise regret not getting to know before I left.
14. Not be too nostalgic/moody/homesick my first few weeks of college.
IT'S 2007, BABY!!! This is the year I graduate from high school!!!! This is the year everything changes! This is the first year of my life I live alone!!!
I'm going to make it the best year yet.
Friday, December 29, 2006
will i snap?
That is the question: will I snap?
Tonight I was talking to someone on IM. It is like hanging up on someone on IM if you just leave without telling them. So I told them I'd be right back so I could take my dog to the bathroom, which my mom asked me to do, and when I got back she had taken the computer, even though she knew I was talking to someone, which has happened on multiple occasions.
Maybe I'm just easier to anger lately, but I got angrier and angrier as thirty minutes went by (she told me she'd take five) and I knew the person I was talking to was probably gone. So I very calmly said, "Mom, next time will you tell me if you're going to take the computer without me knowing so I can say good bye to people?"
She said, "I didn't think I was going to take this long."
"All the same," I said, still calmly, "please tell me. It's really rude of me to just leave. And I was talking about something I cared about."
"She has signed off," my mom said. "She said [etc.]."
"Please don't read my IM conversation."
"You little sh*t, you can't tell me what to do."
"Please don't call me names."
"Well don't act like my mom! You can't tell me what to do!"
"That doesn't justify you calling me a name."
I was very calm. But I didn't feel calm inside. I am very good at making the way I'm feeling very different from the way I act, though. I feel a turmoil of confusion. Some part of me says I'm exaggerating this, making anyone that reads this believe it's worse than it is just so I can get some sort of pathetic validation for the anger I feel. Some parts of me knows I'm not exaggerating. Some part of me doesn't understand why, if my mom loves me, she does these things to me. Some part of me believes I'm provoking it (I am). I need consistency. If you love me, don't hurt me. That's the way it's supposed to be.
I am angry.
It is okay to be angry.
It is okay for me to feel this way.
I will be angry for a minute or two.
Tonight I was talking to someone on IM. It is like hanging up on someone on IM if you just leave without telling them. So I told them I'd be right back so I could take my dog to the bathroom, which my mom asked me to do, and when I got back she had taken the computer, even though she knew I was talking to someone, which has happened on multiple occasions.
Maybe I'm just easier to anger lately, but I got angrier and angrier as thirty minutes went by (she told me she'd take five) and I knew the person I was talking to was probably gone. So I very calmly said, "Mom, next time will you tell me if you're going to take the computer without me knowing so I can say good bye to people?"
She said, "I didn't think I was going to take this long."
"All the same," I said, still calmly, "please tell me. It's really rude of me to just leave. And I was talking about something I cared about."
"She has signed off," my mom said. "She said [etc.]."
"Please don't read my IM conversation."
"You little sh*t, you can't tell me what to do."
"Please don't call me names."
"Well don't act like my mom! You can't tell me what to do!"
"That doesn't justify you calling me a name."
I was very calm. But I didn't feel calm inside. I am very good at making the way I'm feeling very different from the way I act, though. I feel a turmoil of confusion. Some part of me says I'm exaggerating this, making anyone that reads this believe it's worse than it is just so I can get some sort of pathetic validation for the anger I feel. Some parts of me knows I'm not exaggerating. Some part of me doesn't understand why, if my mom loves me, she does these things to me. Some part of me believes I'm provoking it (I am). I need consistency. If you love me, don't hurt me. That's the way it's supposed to be.
I am angry.
It is okay to be angry.
It is okay for me to feel this way.
I will be angry for a minute or two.
Anger v Faith
X-Men 2:
Storm: Sometimes anger can help you survive.
Nightcrawler: So can faith
I'm thinking about it.
Storm: Sometimes anger can help you survive.
Nightcrawler: So can faith
I'm thinking about it.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
what really makes me angry
Overheard conversation from upstairs:
Craig (my brother): I did get Lindsay the right size of pants!
Trista (my sister-in-law): Well fine.
Mom: Well you know why. Lindsay's gained five pounds in the past few months.
GAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
(that is a scream of frustration resonating within me)
I am so angry about that! About the gaining of weight. I don't even really know how I let it happen... I guess I was just fascinated, wondering if I could keep gaining weight forever and hating myself for it. But now I don't know what to do. I don't want to go back. I want to keep moving forward. But not if it means gaining weight. I can't handle that.
I'm so redundant. I post ten million times about the same thing. But it's my blog so people can just deal with it. If I posted as many posts as all of the times I think about food or weight or any of that, this blog would be thousands and thousands of posts. It's like a sound loop in my head. It never rests. It just goes on.
I always used to liken an eating disorder to a lizard's tail. You cut it off and cut it off and cut it off. You think it's gone but it always grows back.
It gnaws on your brain; it feeds on your insecurities; it breeds on your distraction. If you forget it, just for a moment, it multiplies and multiplies.
I don't even remember what it was like to not obsess about eating. It feels as if I always have, even though I know that's not true.
Craig (my brother): I did get Lindsay the right size of pants!
Trista (my sister-in-law): Well fine.
Mom: Well you know why. Lindsay's gained five pounds in the past few months.
GAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
(that is a scream of frustration resonating within me)
I am so angry about that! About the gaining of weight. I don't even really know how I let it happen... I guess I was just fascinated, wondering if I could keep gaining weight forever and hating myself for it. But now I don't know what to do. I don't want to go back. I want to keep moving forward. But not if it means gaining weight. I can't handle that.
I'm so redundant. I post ten million times about the same thing. But it's my blog so people can just deal with it. If I posted as many posts as all of the times I think about food or weight or any of that, this blog would be thousands and thousands of posts. It's like a sound loop in my head. It never rests. It just goes on.
I always used to liken an eating disorder to a lizard's tail. You cut it off and cut it off and cut it off. You think it's gone but it always grows back.
It gnaws on your brain; it feeds on your insecurities; it breeds on your distraction. If you forget it, just for a moment, it multiplies and multiplies.
I don't even remember what it was like to not obsess about eating. It feels as if I always have, even though I know that's not true.
bipolar Christmas
I do have troubles with Christmas every year, but this years troubles seemed to come mostly on the 23rd. The rest of my troubles were just good old bipolar troubles. The trouble with bipolar is really that if you quit taking some of your medicine, it is nearly impossible to start again, because when you are depressed you don't have the energy or motivation or something, and when you are hypomanic you don't want to take it so you won't come back down. At least I am taking some so I'm not suicidal or psychotic. And I'm really working on getting back into my medicine routine.
Christmas was pretty nice when I wasn't really depressed. What I love most about Christmas, in addition to the decorations and general feeling, are the traditions. On Christmas Eve we followed our usual routine. We passed out mismatched song lyrics and sang for two hours. That's always fun because the verses are always different in different versions. Everyone is supposed to sing their lyrics, so usually by the end of the song everyone is singing different words. It's very fun. After that we went to look at Christmas lights, and I was rather depressed and nostalgic and then angry momentarily because when I tried to tell my mom something I haven't told her before (how very afraid I am of next year) she elbowed me very hard in the stomach and told me to shut up because her favorite song was playing on the cd player. But it was still fun.
I got a lot more than I was expecting to get for Christmas. I like receiving gifts of course, but I hate feeling selfish or greedy, so there are negatives and positives to receiving more than was expected. What I enjoyed the most was seeing my family open the gifts I got them, because I tried really hard this year to buy people things I believed they would like.
I got (I'm sure I'll forget a few minor items) a $15 itunes gift card, a $50 Starbucks gift card, an iron, and ironing board, a sewing machine, sewing scissors, pins, thread, a new 30GB video ipod (my old ipod broke), and a new laptop. All of that except the giftcard and the ipod were things I needed for school.
I was very excited about the ipod and the computer. My parents told me they were going to give me their old laptop, and they were going to try to fix my old ipod, so I really wasn't expecting either. I immediately started setting up itunes on the laptop and transferring all the awesome CD's Morgan gave me onto it. I also bought two TV episodes for my ipod (Galactica and Law and Order SVU). The resolution on the ipod is amazing. I feel really appreciative of my parents. Not because they give me stuff, although I really appreciate that, but because they really care. I know they make me very angry sometimes, but they really do love me unconditionally, and they really would give up anything for me (including the house and the piano, which they are talking about selling).
Today I went snowboarding with my cousin. It was pretty cool because I didn't have any problems carving, which I was concerned about since I didn't snowboard at all last year, I only skiied. I had some problems at the top of the mountain because the snow was choppy so I didn't dare carve, so my calf muscles got pretty sore and I ran over some rocks and scratched up my beautiful board.
I am not sure exactly what it is about boys (I'm probably being sexist, but it is a personally observed phenomenon) that makes them believe they can do things like go off jumps when they have only been snowboarding a few times just because they believe they are fantastic at snowboarding. But my cousin has fallen prey to this dellusion, and he went off a jump on the last run of the day and broke his arm. I felt bad for him, but at the same time I think he learned his lesson.
Tonight I went to coffee with someone. I won't say they're name because I'm going to divulge some of their personal information. Anyway, this person told me their sister attempted suicide last week. This person was very sarcastic, so I could tell it was really hurting this person (sorry, I don't want a pronoun to tell you the gender). We had a very good talk though, and I'm really glad we went to coffee (non-caffeinated beverage). Life kind of sucks sometimes. This person is very angry with his/her sister. I could definitely relate.
Then I got to debate Brittany. I had a splitting headache so my first speech was very slurred, but Amanda gave me drugs so it stopped hurting as badly and things got better from there. And Amanda gave me a coat that doesn't fit her from Maurices, and it's very cute.
Sorry, I'm giving a very mechanical description of these past few days but I kind of don't feel like making it any more interesting.
I plan on working on my senior project all day tomorrow, except I have an interview with the newspaper at 2 becuase I'm apparently a "person worth knowing" just because I got into MIT, even though I can name a lot of people as smart/smarter than me at our school that are worth knowing as well.
Christmas was pretty nice when I wasn't really depressed. What I love most about Christmas, in addition to the decorations and general feeling, are the traditions. On Christmas Eve we followed our usual routine. We passed out mismatched song lyrics and sang for two hours. That's always fun because the verses are always different in different versions. Everyone is supposed to sing their lyrics, so usually by the end of the song everyone is singing different words. It's very fun. After that we went to look at Christmas lights, and I was rather depressed and nostalgic and then angry momentarily because when I tried to tell my mom something I haven't told her before (how very afraid I am of next year) she elbowed me very hard in the stomach and told me to shut up because her favorite song was playing on the cd player. But it was still fun.
I got a lot more than I was expecting to get for Christmas. I like receiving gifts of course, but I hate feeling selfish or greedy, so there are negatives and positives to receiving more than was expected. What I enjoyed the most was seeing my family open the gifts I got them, because I tried really hard this year to buy people things I believed they would like.
I got (I'm sure I'll forget a few minor items) a $15 itunes gift card, a $50 Starbucks gift card, an iron, and ironing board, a sewing machine, sewing scissors, pins, thread, a new 30GB video ipod (my old ipod broke), and a new laptop. All of that except the giftcard and the ipod were things I needed for school.
I was very excited about the ipod and the computer. My parents told me they were going to give me their old laptop, and they were going to try to fix my old ipod, so I really wasn't expecting either. I immediately started setting up itunes on the laptop and transferring all the awesome CD's Morgan gave me onto it. I also bought two TV episodes for my ipod (Galactica and Law and Order SVU). The resolution on the ipod is amazing. I feel really appreciative of my parents. Not because they give me stuff, although I really appreciate that, but because they really care. I know they make me very angry sometimes, but they really do love me unconditionally, and they really would give up anything for me (including the house and the piano, which they are talking about selling).
Today I went snowboarding with my cousin. It was pretty cool because I didn't have any problems carving, which I was concerned about since I didn't snowboard at all last year, I only skiied. I had some problems at the top of the mountain because the snow was choppy so I didn't dare carve, so my calf muscles got pretty sore and I ran over some rocks and scratched up my beautiful board.
I am not sure exactly what it is about boys (I'm probably being sexist, but it is a personally observed phenomenon) that makes them believe they can do things like go off jumps when they have only been snowboarding a few times just because they believe they are fantastic at snowboarding. But my cousin has fallen prey to this dellusion, and he went off a jump on the last run of the day and broke his arm. I felt bad for him, but at the same time I think he learned his lesson.
Tonight I went to coffee with someone. I won't say they're name because I'm going to divulge some of their personal information. Anyway, this person told me their sister attempted suicide last week. This person was very sarcastic, so I could tell it was really hurting this person (sorry, I don't want a pronoun to tell you the gender). We had a very good talk though, and I'm really glad we went to coffee (non-caffeinated beverage). Life kind of sucks sometimes. This person is very angry with his/her sister. I could definitely relate.
Then I got to debate Brittany. I had a splitting headache so my first speech was very slurred, but Amanda gave me drugs so it stopped hurting as badly and things got better from there. And Amanda gave me a coat that doesn't fit her from Maurices, and it's very cute.
Sorry, I'm giving a very mechanical description of these past few days but I kind of don't feel like making it any more interesting.
I plan on working on my senior project all day tomorrow, except I have an interview with the newspaper at 2 becuase I'm apparently a "person worth knowing" just because I got into MIT, even though I can name a lot of people as smart/smarter than me at our school that are worth knowing as well.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
I WANT ALL OF THIS ANGER IN ME TO LEAVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I am so angry at my mom. About everything, everything, everything.
She just called me a BITCH.
I AM SO ANGRY.
I want to cut my arm. I want to cut my heart out. I want to take all of the parts of me that care what she says, that are so angry, that hate and hate and hate, and make them die.
Nothing good is born out of anger. Everything bad is born out of hate. Everything good is born out of love.
I LOVE MY MOTHER!!!!!!!! I LOVE HER SO MUCH I WOULD DIE FOR HER, I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HER, I WOULD DO ANYTHING SHE ASKED ME TO IF SHE REALLY, REALLY CARED, I CARE WHAT SHE THINKS, I WANT TO MAKE HER HAPPY...
I LOVE MY MOTHER
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
God... Take away this anger... make it go away... make it dissolve in all of the love I have in me... Please, God, let me not be angry anymore...
I am so angry at my mom. About everything, everything, everything.
She just called me a BITCH.
I AM SO ANGRY.
I want to cut my arm. I want to cut my heart out. I want to take all of the parts of me that care what she says, that are so angry, that hate and hate and hate, and make them die.
Nothing good is born out of anger. Everything bad is born out of hate. Everything good is born out of love.
I LOVE MY MOTHER!!!!!!!! I LOVE HER SO MUCH I WOULD DIE FOR HER, I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HER, I WOULD DO ANYTHING SHE ASKED ME TO IF SHE REALLY, REALLY CARED, I CARE WHAT SHE THINKS, I WANT TO MAKE HER HAPPY...
I LOVE MY MOTHER
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
God... Take away this anger... make it go away... make it dissolve in all of the love I have in me... Please, God, let me not be angry anymore...
Thursday, December 21, 2006
never-ending...
I guess that you could say I'm doing much better with my eating disorder. I don't actually purge very much anymore. I have been fighting it. But the way that I eat is still the same. I don't know how to change that. Somedays I eat nothing at all; somedays I eat and I eat and I eat. Although I am not purging anymore, the binging behaviors that necessitated purging are still very much present in my daily life.
I feel like I have tried nearly everything, and somehow I still cannot make myself eat the way I used to eat before this mess started in sixth grade. I don't even remember what it felt like to not constantly obsess about food. Ironically, when I was hard-core bulimic two years ago, I probably thought about food 90% of the time. I obsessed about when I was going to eat, and how much, and I berated myself when I lost control. Now, those same mentalities, that same loop, still characterize me.
I tried to approach my parents on this yesterday morning, and it didn't go well. I told them I needed to see a dietician, and this was the ensuing conversation:
Mom: Why do you need to see a dietician? They're just going to tell you the same things we tell you.
Me: But maybe they can help me to really apply those things.
Mom: We've already told you everything you need to apply them.
Me: But I can't. I'm trying and I can't.
Mom: Well you should be able to! You did last year in weight watchers!
Me: Weight watchers only made things worse.
Mom: But you lost weight and then held your weight constant!
Me: That wasn't because I was following weight watchers.
Mom: Yes you were!
Me: No, I tried very hard to follow it at first but it just turned into more pressure so I went back to the way I was eating.
Mom: You mean binging and purging?
Me: Yes.
Mom: You didn't tell me that!
Me: I told you I wanted to quit because I felt like it was pushing me back.
Mom: Well, if you had followed weight watchers you wouldn't have this problem!
Me: I tried.
Mom: You should have been able to!
Me: But I can't.
(Yelling begins)
Mom: You shouldn't need to see a dietician! We should be helpful enough! The dietician can't tell you anything we haven't!
Me: But nothing else has worked! Maybe they can help me!
etc.
The scene ends with my mom and I yelling at each other and me slamming the front door.
I just don't know what to do anymore. I feel like maybe bulimia is never-ending. I feel like I'll never change the screwed up way my mind views eating; I'll never shift the behaviors I have developed over the last six years.
I don't know if a dietician or nutritionalist would help. My therapist suggested one. All I know is they're my last hope, and nothing else has worked. I can't change. I'm trying; I swear to you I'm trying.
I feel like I have tried nearly everything, and somehow I still cannot make myself eat the way I used to eat before this mess started in sixth grade. I don't even remember what it felt like to not constantly obsess about food. Ironically, when I was hard-core bulimic two years ago, I probably thought about food 90% of the time. I obsessed about when I was going to eat, and how much, and I berated myself when I lost control. Now, those same mentalities, that same loop, still characterize me.
I tried to approach my parents on this yesterday morning, and it didn't go well. I told them I needed to see a dietician, and this was the ensuing conversation:
Mom: Why do you need to see a dietician? They're just going to tell you the same things we tell you.
Me: But maybe they can help me to really apply those things.
Mom: We've already told you everything you need to apply them.
Me: But I can't. I'm trying and I can't.
Mom: Well you should be able to! You did last year in weight watchers!
Me: Weight watchers only made things worse.
Mom: But you lost weight and then held your weight constant!
Me: That wasn't because I was following weight watchers.
Mom: Yes you were!
Me: No, I tried very hard to follow it at first but it just turned into more pressure so I went back to the way I was eating.
Mom: You mean binging and purging?
Me: Yes.
Mom: You didn't tell me that!
Me: I told you I wanted to quit because I felt like it was pushing me back.
Mom: Well, if you had followed weight watchers you wouldn't have this problem!
Me: I tried.
Mom: You should have been able to!
Me: But I can't.
(Yelling begins)
Mom: You shouldn't need to see a dietician! We should be helpful enough! The dietician can't tell you anything we haven't!
Me: But nothing else has worked! Maybe they can help me!
etc.
The scene ends with my mom and I yelling at each other and me slamming the front door.
I just don't know what to do anymore. I feel like maybe bulimia is never-ending. I feel like I'll never change the screwed up way my mind views eating; I'll never shift the behaviors I have developed over the last six years.
I don't know if a dietician or nutritionalist would help. My therapist suggested one. All I know is they're my last hope, and nothing else has worked. I can't change. I'm trying; I swear to you I'm trying.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
I have to go to debate right now.
Small happenings: I'm going to remind my parents about the dietician. I feel myself sliding back, and I don't want to go back there.
School was really long today, and I realized I read the wrong sixty pages for English, so I have to read ninety pages tonight, and I am procrastinating.
I checked out one book about Taoism and one about Buddhism and almost one about Sartre/existentialism, but I made myself stop because I'm half way through an astrophysics book and really behind in English.
I made muffins for our debate Christmas party!!! And then I ate one. :-(
I have been searching blogger for blogs, and it amazes me how connected we all are. I feel like I'm a part of other people's lives when I read their blogs. It's like I don't know them at all, but I know them very well. I know I'm not alone. It makes me so curious when people's blogs end abruptly. I wonder where they are now, and who they are now, and where they are going, and if they are happy.
It makes me feel so... serene, serenely nostalgic. Maybe I really do believe in Buddhism. Maybe we are all part of some organism, and some part of me feels for people I don't even know.
I read on the internet/heard on the news about some Bulgarian medical people who are accused of deliberately infecting 500 children with AIDS. It made me think of V for Vendetta. It also made me wonder, a lot, about how to reconcile the organism that writes blogs with the organism that kills. How are we all the same?
But I think we are. The same that is. I really do.
Small happenings: I'm going to remind my parents about the dietician. I feel myself sliding back, and I don't want to go back there.
School was really long today, and I realized I read the wrong sixty pages for English, so I have to read ninety pages tonight, and I am procrastinating.
I checked out one book about Taoism and one about Buddhism and almost one about Sartre/existentialism, but I made myself stop because I'm half way through an astrophysics book and really behind in English.
I made muffins for our debate Christmas party!!! And then I ate one. :-(
I have been searching blogger for blogs, and it amazes me how connected we all are. I feel like I'm a part of other people's lives when I read their blogs. It's like I don't know them at all, but I know them very well. I know I'm not alone. It makes me so curious when people's blogs end abruptly. I wonder where they are now, and who they are now, and where they are going, and if they are happy.
It makes me feel so... serene, serenely nostalgic. Maybe I really do believe in Buddhism. Maybe we are all part of some organism, and some part of me feels for people I don't even know.
I read on the internet/heard on the news about some Bulgarian medical people who are accused of deliberately infecting 500 children with AIDS. It made me think of V for Vendetta. It also made me wonder, a lot, about how to reconcile the organism that writes blogs with the organism that kills. How are we all the same?
But I think we are. The same that is. I really do.
Monday, December 18, 2006
UC/debate/sickness
Before I go on about debate, I got into the University of Chicago, which I was excited but not surprised about.
Friday when I went to school I was struggling not to throw up. I was very sick all through seminary and chemistry. In the middle of government I went to the bathroom to call Amanda to ask her whether I should go to the debate tournament. I couldn't get ahold of her, and I wanted to continue the success I had at the Carroll tournament, so I went.
For a long time on the way there I had to just focus on a cloud in the distance and hold a bag in front of my face. I was positive at one point that I was going to throw up. At first I was pretty upset, because I knew it would be embarrassing, but eventually I came to peace with it in my mind. Everyone around me was sleeping, and I honestly just longed for the relief of throwing up.
I didn't throw up, though, until right before my first round. I felt so terrible by them. The rest of the tournament swirled by in a haze of nausea, puke, and confusion. I became extremely familiar with the corner toilet on the third floor becuase I had to run there very frequently. I went to the third floor because there weren't any people using that bathroom. I felt safe in the stall. It also felt, though, like when I used to be bulimic. All of the feelings of dependency on and worship of the toilet came back and made me feel even more miserable.
I had my dad call in an anti-nausea/barfing prescription and Amanda and her boyfriend Geno picked it up for me. Jill and Brittany were amazing.
That first night at the debate tournament we were in the coolest hotel (it had the pool in this indoor atrium in the middle of it with all of these tropical trees) but I spent every hour all night in the bathroom kneeling to the most prominent god my last few years of life. It was terrible. It was the most sick I've been since last year at orchestra festival. I might have been even sicker this weekend, actually.
We weren't really sure what was wrong with me. We thought it was the flu, but I was really sick, and I didn't have a fever, so my dad said it was probably food poisoning, but we don't really know for sure. It was one of the two.
When I woke up Saturday morning I was so sick that I couldn't really walk. I'm not exaggerating. I was walking to the bus and Jill and Brittany just told me to stay where I was and they'd have the bus come get me. I felt really cold and panicky and alone as I was waiting for the bus next to the hotel. I didn't think I could make it through the day, and I thought I would probably have to drop out of the tournament.
I asked the front desk of the hotel for some plastic bags to throw up in on the way to the high school, but I didn't use them. I decided to take things one round at a time. I didn't want to drop out, and while I was debating I felt less focused on how sick I was.
I ended up going 4-1 and breaking. I lost quarter finals to silly Hannah Paine on a 2-1 decision. Brittany, Jill, and Greg all admitted though that I was definitely not debating up to my usual standard. That is probably because I was thinking the whole time of how if I threw up in the middle of the debate Hannah would be confirmed in her suspicions that I was a subhuman creature and all of her subsequent condescending looks would be justifed.
The ironic thing was that she shook my hand for the first time after the round, after "having a cold" for two years. I was kind of happy, because it's the first time I've been sick, and I didn't bother telling her I had the flu or food poisoning or whatever. I figured she could just get sick for all of those times she's been mean to me.
I got seventh place. I was sad about that, and it was weird because the person that got sixth had a lower record than me (he had a 3-2 preliminary record), so I think they messed up the placing, but I'm not going to contest it and start a major movement so I can get sixth place instead of seventh. But Amanda F. won the tournament, which made up for everything.
I was so sick when I got home that I really want my parents to just take care of me. At first my mom of course thought I was faking it and being a hypochondriac, which is what she always thinks when I'm sick. I guess I should have left it at that, but I really needed them to take care of me. This is my last year at home, and since seventh grade every time I get sick my mom just says I'm being a hypochondriac and nobody really helps me emotionally. I really wanted her to care.
When I got on the scales and showed her I'd lost six pounds in one day, however, she and my father told me they believed I was being bulimic again. It all seemed so unfair; I was on the verge of throwing up again, I felt like the living dead, my stomach was twisting and turning and my intestines were sending sharp pains throughout my abdoman so I could barely think, and they were telling me they thought it was my fault, they thought I'd just taken laxatives or OD'd on lithium.
It made me very mad. I just went to my room and cried. It was 10:30 p.m., and it had been such an exhausting weekend. I really just needed them to take care of me. That's all I want from them. I just want my mom to be there for me the way that I need her to. I need her to support me, not telling me I'm making up everything I feel.
One of the major reasons I started self-injuring in eigth grade was that nobody could tell me that pain wasn't real. Nobody could say I was a hypochondriac, and it was all in my head. Nobody could deny me that. And the reason I needed a pain that no one could deny was partially that I felt like my mom denied everything I felt. I felt like everytime I felt sick she said I was faking it, every time I tried to tell her I wasn't okay she thought it was in my head, and every time I tried to tell her I was sad or upset about something she just turned it and made it about her.
I realized Saturday night that I still feel like she does that, and I still feel like I'm the one taking care of her, although it's better than it was, and I still need so badly for someone to take care of me.
I called Amanda and she told me something important. She said my friends were taking care of me. And that's so true. She and Brittany and Jill and Kristin and Alexis and even Shea, who wasn't there, took care of me this weekend. They were my parents.
And Amanda called me "honey," which Ariel does sometimes. I really like it when people call me honey because it feels like they're taking care of me for once, instead of me taking care of the world. All of these years with my belief that I carried the fate of my family on my shoulders, my belief that I had all of the responsibility in the world, have left me with such a hunger for someone to take care of me. I need it. I need it so badly.
Amanda called my parents Sunday as I slept all day and told them I was really sick, and they believed her, and my mom was a lot nicer after that. But it didn't erase the hurt and anger I felt Saturday night.
So... please take care of me sometimes, when I'm sick... you do, I know you do, but I need it. I need you to say, "Shh, honey, everything is going to be okay." I need to feel like I'm not in charge. I need to feel like someone will take control for me. I need to feel like someone is holding me so I can cry.
Friday when I went to school I was struggling not to throw up. I was very sick all through seminary and chemistry. In the middle of government I went to the bathroom to call Amanda to ask her whether I should go to the debate tournament. I couldn't get ahold of her, and I wanted to continue the success I had at the Carroll tournament, so I went.
For a long time on the way there I had to just focus on a cloud in the distance and hold a bag in front of my face. I was positive at one point that I was going to throw up. At first I was pretty upset, because I knew it would be embarrassing, but eventually I came to peace with it in my mind. Everyone around me was sleeping, and I honestly just longed for the relief of throwing up.
I didn't throw up, though, until right before my first round. I felt so terrible by them. The rest of the tournament swirled by in a haze of nausea, puke, and confusion. I became extremely familiar with the corner toilet on the third floor becuase I had to run there very frequently. I went to the third floor because there weren't any people using that bathroom. I felt safe in the stall. It also felt, though, like when I used to be bulimic. All of the feelings of dependency on and worship of the toilet came back and made me feel even more miserable.
I had my dad call in an anti-nausea/barfing prescription and Amanda and her boyfriend Geno picked it up for me. Jill and Brittany were amazing.
That first night at the debate tournament we were in the coolest hotel (it had the pool in this indoor atrium in the middle of it with all of these tropical trees) but I spent every hour all night in the bathroom kneeling to the most prominent god my last few years of life. It was terrible. It was the most sick I've been since last year at orchestra festival. I might have been even sicker this weekend, actually.
We weren't really sure what was wrong with me. We thought it was the flu, but I was really sick, and I didn't have a fever, so my dad said it was probably food poisoning, but we don't really know for sure. It was one of the two.
When I woke up Saturday morning I was so sick that I couldn't really walk. I'm not exaggerating. I was walking to the bus and Jill and Brittany just told me to stay where I was and they'd have the bus come get me. I felt really cold and panicky and alone as I was waiting for the bus next to the hotel. I didn't think I could make it through the day, and I thought I would probably have to drop out of the tournament.
I asked the front desk of the hotel for some plastic bags to throw up in on the way to the high school, but I didn't use them. I decided to take things one round at a time. I didn't want to drop out, and while I was debating I felt less focused on how sick I was.
I ended up going 4-1 and breaking. I lost quarter finals to silly Hannah Paine on a 2-1 decision. Brittany, Jill, and Greg all admitted though that I was definitely not debating up to my usual standard. That is probably because I was thinking the whole time of how if I threw up in the middle of the debate Hannah would be confirmed in her suspicions that I was a subhuman creature and all of her subsequent condescending looks would be justifed.
The ironic thing was that she shook my hand for the first time after the round, after "having a cold" for two years. I was kind of happy, because it's the first time I've been sick, and I didn't bother telling her I had the flu or food poisoning or whatever. I figured she could just get sick for all of those times she's been mean to me.
I got seventh place. I was sad about that, and it was weird because the person that got sixth had a lower record than me (he had a 3-2 preliminary record), so I think they messed up the placing, but I'm not going to contest it and start a major movement so I can get sixth place instead of seventh. But Amanda F. won the tournament, which made up for everything.
I was so sick when I got home that I really want my parents to just take care of me. At first my mom of course thought I was faking it and being a hypochondriac, which is what she always thinks when I'm sick. I guess I should have left it at that, but I really needed them to take care of me. This is my last year at home, and since seventh grade every time I get sick my mom just says I'm being a hypochondriac and nobody really helps me emotionally. I really wanted her to care.
When I got on the scales and showed her I'd lost six pounds in one day, however, she and my father told me they believed I was being bulimic again. It all seemed so unfair; I was on the verge of throwing up again, I felt like the living dead, my stomach was twisting and turning and my intestines were sending sharp pains throughout my abdoman so I could barely think, and they were telling me they thought it was my fault, they thought I'd just taken laxatives or OD'd on lithium.
It made me very mad. I just went to my room and cried. It was 10:30 p.m., and it had been such an exhausting weekend. I really just needed them to take care of me. That's all I want from them. I just want my mom to be there for me the way that I need her to. I need her to support me, not telling me I'm making up everything I feel.
One of the major reasons I started self-injuring in eigth grade was that nobody could tell me that pain wasn't real. Nobody could say I was a hypochondriac, and it was all in my head. Nobody could deny me that. And the reason I needed a pain that no one could deny was partially that I felt like my mom denied everything I felt. I felt like everytime I felt sick she said I was faking it, every time I tried to tell her I wasn't okay she thought it was in my head, and every time I tried to tell her I was sad or upset about something she just turned it and made it about her.
I realized Saturday night that I still feel like she does that, and I still feel like I'm the one taking care of her, although it's better than it was, and I still need so badly for someone to take care of me.
I called Amanda and she told me something important. She said my friends were taking care of me. And that's so true. She and Brittany and Jill and Kristin and Alexis and even Shea, who wasn't there, took care of me this weekend. They were my parents.
And Amanda called me "honey," which Ariel does sometimes. I really like it when people call me honey because it feels like they're taking care of me for once, instead of me taking care of the world. All of these years with my belief that I carried the fate of my family on my shoulders, my belief that I had all of the responsibility in the world, have left me with such a hunger for someone to take care of me. I need it. I need it so badly.
Amanda called my parents Sunday as I slept all day and told them I was really sick, and they believed her, and my mom was a lot nicer after that. But it didn't erase the hurt and anger I felt Saturday night.
So... please take care of me sometimes, when I'm sick... you do, I know you do, but I need it. I need you to say, "Shh, honey, everything is going to be okay." I need to feel like I'm not in charge. I need to feel like someone will take control for me. I need to feel like someone is holding me so I can cry.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Caltech
After two days of biting my nails, waiting for the mail the letter from Caltech finally came. The first thing I saw when I opened the mailbox was the big packet. I figured the fact that it was a packet and not a slim letter was probably a good thing, as they don't send people they reject packets, as far as I knew.
I ripped it open as I was standing there in the snow in front of my mailbox. I couldn't wait any longer. Inside was a folder that said "Welcome to Caltech" on the front. I figured this was probably another good sign, as they wouldn't be welcoming me if they were rejecting me, but I still knew I could be deferred so I kept my hopes in check.
However, when I read the first line I allowed a bit of happiness to seep in:
"Dear Lindsay,
It is an honor to inform you of the Admission Committee's decision to offer you a place in the California Institute of Technology's Class of 2011."
I didn't bother reading the rest; I promptly did a celebratory snow dance in front of the mailbox, not caring who was wathcing me jump up and down in circles.
OHH... choices. Now I have big choices. I am 99.9% sure I will get into University of Chicago. So my top three choices are right there: Caltech, MIT, or UC. I hopefully will be able to visit all of them. I'll have to think about it a lot. I'll have to see how the financial aid goes as well, which apparently Caltech will tell me in January according to the CSS and I don't have to fill out the FAFSA, but I need to look into that to make sure that is right.
I think there are some things I can begin to think about now, although I have until May to decide. First off, MIT has way more opportunities, and I think I'll like Boston more than I like Pasadena. Second, Caltech is smaller, and I think that I will like smaller better. Third, Caltech has a way better astrophysics program, but at this point I think that that would be better for grad school- I really want to go to grad school at Caltech, which maybe means I shouldn't go there for undergrad? Finally, MIT sent me a nerdy poster and Caltech didn't.
I don't know. It's kind of balanced in my mind at the moment. Caltech might be slightly better academically, but MIT is better socially. I'll have to see how it all sifts out.
Yay, I love choices. I love the feeling of opening the letter and seeing it say I got in. It makes me realize that the MIT letter probably wasn't a mistake, because it's highly improbable that both MIT and Caltech would mess up the admission letters.
*SNOW DANCE* [inside]
I ripped it open as I was standing there in the snow in front of my mailbox. I couldn't wait any longer. Inside was a folder that said "Welcome to Caltech" on the front. I figured this was probably another good sign, as they wouldn't be welcoming me if they were rejecting me, but I still knew I could be deferred so I kept my hopes in check.
However, when I read the first line I allowed a bit of happiness to seep in:
"Dear Lindsay,
It is an honor to inform you of the Admission Committee's decision to offer you a place in the California Institute of Technology's Class of 2011."
I didn't bother reading the rest; I promptly did a celebratory snow dance in front of the mailbox, not caring who was wathcing me jump up and down in circles.
OHH... choices. Now I have big choices. I am 99.9% sure I will get into University of Chicago. So my top three choices are right there: Caltech, MIT, or UC. I hopefully will be able to visit all of them. I'll have to think about it a lot. I'll have to see how the financial aid goes as well, which apparently Caltech will tell me in January according to the CSS and I don't have to fill out the FAFSA, but I need to look into that to make sure that is right.
I think there are some things I can begin to think about now, although I have until May to decide. First off, MIT has way more opportunities, and I think I'll like Boston more than I like Pasadena. Second, Caltech is smaller, and I think that I will like smaller better. Third, Caltech has a way better astrophysics program, but at this point I think that that would be better for grad school- I really want to go to grad school at Caltech, which maybe means I shouldn't go there for undergrad? Finally, MIT sent me a nerdy poster and Caltech didn't.
I don't know. It's kind of balanced in my mind at the moment. Caltech might be slightly better academically, but MIT is better socially. I'll have to see how it all sifts out.
Yay, I love choices. I love the feeling of opening the letter and seeing it say I got in. It makes me realize that the MIT letter probably wasn't a mistake, because it's highly improbable that both MIT and Caltech would mess up the admission letters.
*SNOW DANCE* [inside]
Monday, December 11, 2006
confetti!
MIT sent me a tube full of confetti, the admissions letter, and a nifty MIT poster. I think I'll put my nerdy MIT poster under my nerdy galaxy poster on the east wall of my bedroom. It'll fit right in.
The admissions letter had a short handwritten thing on it as well that said, "Lindsay, your talent at both writing and science is impressive." I think that means that being a good writer actually helped me get into MIT. Woohoo!
School was good today, except it was painfully apparent that my grades are slipping into the kingdom of B's. I negotiated my physics grade back up by arguing two quiz questions on centripetal force, and I think my English grade will be okay, but I worry about government.
Also, I'm supposed to be studying for math right now, as my semester test is tomorrow.
I think if I start staying awake in AP government I'll be more successful. How I will manage that, however, I am not sure.
The admissions letter had a short handwritten thing on it as well that said, "Lindsay, your talent at both writing and science is impressive." I think that means that being a good writer actually helped me get into MIT. Woohoo!
School was good today, except it was painfully apparent that my grades are slipping into the kingdom of B's. I negotiated my physics grade back up by arguing two quiz questions on centripetal force, and I think my English grade will be okay, but I worry about government.
Also, I'm supposed to be studying for math right now, as my semester test is tomorrow.
I think if I start staying awake in AP government I'll be more successful. How I will manage that, however, I am not sure.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Today was most definitely the best day of my life so far, between getting into MIT and seeing Josh and being with friends and just so many amazing things...
It was so hard to press that okay button to see my MIT decision, but let me tell you, Josh and I were a little loud for library etiquette.
Today, though, I was more happy about seeing Josh than I was about MIT.
So many good things in one day.
It was so hard to press that okay button to see my MIT decision, but let me tell you, Josh and I were a little loud for library etiquette.
Today, though, I was more happy about seeing Josh than I was about MIT.
So many good things in one day.
1. Massachusetts Institute of Technology
Caltech came in at #6.
For one moment of one day, I'm going to allow myself to be proud and happy. Last week I did so well at the debate tournament, and this week Josh and MIT...
Friday, December 08, 2006
freaking out
"We are pleased to announce that we're still on schedule to release MIT admissions decisions online at 12:00PM EST on Saturday, December 9."
That's 2:00 PM, I think.
Tomorrow AFTERNOON!!!!!
I'm having a heart attack.
I'm not sure whether I should look tomorrow or not.
But can I resist the temptation or the torment?
I don't know. If I don't get in, I don't want to ruin my weekend with Josh with sad feelings. But I don't know if I can handle the anticipation while knowing that the answer to my future is waiting online.
I'm kind of wishing at the moment that everyone didn't know I'm applying to MIT, because now if I don't get in, I'm obliged to tell a lot of people.
If I didn't get in... they've already made the decision. It's didn't, not don't.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Josh in 6.5 hours...
That's 2:00 PM, I think.
Tomorrow AFTERNOON!!!!!
I'm having a heart attack.
I'm not sure whether I should look tomorrow or not.
But can I resist the temptation or the torment?
I don't know. If I don't get in, I don't want to ruin my weekend with Josh with sad feelings. But I don't know if I can handle the anticipation while knowing that the answer to my future is waiting online.
I'm kind of wishing at the moment that everyone didn't know I'm applying to MIT, because now if I don't get in, I'm obliged to tell a lot of people.
If I didn't get in... they've already made the decision. It's didn't, not don't.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Josh in 6.5 hours...
Thursday, December 07, 2006
This is the email I got
Dear Lindsay,I wasn't worried before, but I am now. I'm beginning to feel nervous.
Thank you for all the time and effort you have put into your application. I
want to let you know Early Action decision letters will be mailed on Monday,
December 11.
Offers of admission to students whose mailing address is outside the United
States will be sent via FedEx. Other decisions to mailing addresses outside
the United States will be sent via Air Mail. A copy of the letter sent to
mailing addresses outside the United States will be emailed to the email
address provided on the application on Friday, December 15.
If you have not received a decision from Caltech by December 18, you should
contact our office at 626.395.6341 and we will have another decision mailed to
you. Please visit our website at http://admissions.caltech.edu/ for more
information. We are sorry, but we do not give admissions decisions over the
phone nor do we routinely email decisions to students with US mailing
addresses.
I see Josh tomorrow!!!!
Monday, December 04, 2006
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Happy moments
This was a weekend of mostly happy moments with a few said moments interspersed.
Happy moment number one: I got to see Jen, who I've been talking to for months online. It was so exciting to finally meet her. She's a fantastic girl, online and in person. My team really liked her as well. I don't know how anyone could not like her though.
Happy moment number two: Seing my name on the postings for octafinals. I was so nervous that I made myself sick. It happens at every tournament; my anxiety affects my body so that I'm constantly ready to sprint to the bathroom.
Happy moment number three: Going into my octafinals round and feeling confident. This is very unusual for me. I was so incredibly confident for the entire tournament, whereas I'm usually incredibly self-critical. I think it really helped me to do better.
Happy moment number four: Hearing them disclose octafinals in my favor. The girl I debated was really sweet and from Idaho, where they are apparently much nicer, but it was still nice to finally win an octafinal round.
Happy moment number five: Debating quarters in front of Amanda with that same confidence that I had for the entire tournament. I'm like a new person when I debate because I view it as a game and I want to have fun. I'm not as serious, not as anxious, not as depressed, and I'm more sure of my capability. It was awesome to debate that way in front of everyone in that room. It was awesome to hear them disclose again in my favor.
Happy moment number (interspersed): Winning the first two coin tosses so I could be aff, which I am most definitely better at.
Happy moment number six: Debating sems in that same manner with that same confidence, weighing out impacts, etc. Losing the coin toss was bad luck, and having to debate neg with a panel I could have easily won on if I was aff was unfortunate. But it was such a nice feeling to not hate myself for that split decision not in my favor; it was nice to still be proud. I skulked for a while, but let me tell you: I am proud of the consistency I had at this tournament.
Happy moment number seven (HAPPIEST OF ALL!!!!!!!!!): Sitting there when they were announcing speaker awards. They announced a lot of good people for the first nine awards. In fact, all of the good people I could think of. Brittany said to me, "That means you're the first!" and she was kidding, and I said, "Yeah right," and I was thinking, it's probably someone from Idaho, or someone from Montana that talks pretty but doesn't win rounds." When they announced my name, I was mostly in shock, and I was in shock as I walked up there and accepted the award, as everyone cheered, as Pat said something like "you go girl," as I sat back down, dazed but smiling. As I started thinking about what it means to be the first speaker out of forty Montana and Idaho debaters, I began to feel a little less skulky about losing that semi-final round.
Happy moment number eight: Seeing the ballots, and seeing that I went 4-1 again, and that I was undefeated (3-0) when I went home last night lamenting to Amanda about how I was probably 0-3.
Happy moment number nine: Seeing that I beat Hannah Payne, who truly is a pain. Also, seeing the comment to her on the ballot, "you were way too aggressive," and knowing that she was actually, for her, not being very aggressive in that round.
Happy moment number ten: Having policy kids from our team, who always ignore me, congratulate me, and having Mr. Pogreba congratulate me.
Happy moment number eleven: Having our school win second place in sweepstakes and knowing I was a part of that.
Happy moment number twelve: Hearing Amanda from Billings shout to me as she left that I was the one that made the tournament worth while, and that I rocked her world.
Happy moment number thirteen: Hugging Jen good bye and hearing from her that she had come to this tournament for me and I had made it worth while.
Happy moment number fourteen: Telling Amanda all of this.
Happy moment number fifteen: Going out to celebrate with Brittany, and both us being so tired that we kind of slurped italian sodas in silence before we both agreed we were exhausted and needed to go to bed.
Happiest realization of all: I am capable of believing in myself.
It was a pretty cool tournament.
Happy moment number one: I got to see Jen, who I've been talking to for months online. It was so exciting to finally meet her. She's a fantastic girl, online and in person. My team really liked her as well. I don't know how anyone could not like her though.
Happy moment number two: Seing my name on the postings for octafinals. I was so nervous that I made myself sick. It happens at every tournament; my anxiety affects my body so that I'm constantly ready to sprint to the bathroom.
Happy moment number three: Going into my octafinals round and feeling confident. This is very unusual for me. I was so incredibly confident for the entire tournament, whereas I'm usually incredibly self-critical. I think it really helped me to do better.
Happy moment number four: Hearing them disclose octafinals in my favor. The girl I debated was really sweet and from Idaho, where they are apparently much nicer, but it was still nice to finally win an octafinal round.
Happy moment number five: Debating quarters in front of Amanda with that same confidence that I had for the entire tournament. I'm like a new person when I debate because I view it as a game and I want to have fun. I'm not as serious, not as anxious, not as depressed, and I'm more sure of my capability. It was awesome to debate that way in front of everyone in that room. It was awesome to hear them disclose again in my favor.
Happy moment number (interspersed): Winning the first two coin tosses so I could be aff, which I am most definitely better at.
Happy moment number six: Debating sems in that same manner with that same confidence, weighing out impacts, etc. Losing the coin toss was bad luck, and having to debate neg with a panel I could have easily won on if I was aff was unfortunate. But it was such a nice feeling to not hate myself for that split decision not in my favor; it was nice to still be proud. I skulked for a while, but let me tell you: I am proud of the consistency I had at this tournament.
Happy moment number seven (HAPPIEST OF ALL!!!!!!!!!): Sitting there when they were announcing speaker awards. They announced a lot of good people for the first nine awards. In fact, all of the good people I could think of. Brittany said to me, "That means you're the first!" and she was kidding, and I said, "Yeah right," and I was thinking, it's probably someone from Idaho, or someone from Montana that talks pretty but doesn't win rounds." When they announced my name, I was mostly in shock, and I was in shock as I walked up there and accepted the award, as everyone cheered, as Pat said something like "you go girl," as I sat back down, dazed but smiling. As I started thinking about what it means to be the first speaker out of forty Montana and Idaho debaters, I began to feel a little less skulky about losing that semi-final round.
Happy moment number eight: Seeing the ballots, and seeing that I went 4-1 again, and that I was undefeated (3-0) when I went home last night lamenting to Amanda about how I was probably 0-3.
Happy moment number nine: Seeing that I beat Hannah Payne, who truly is a pain. Also, seeing the comment to her on the ballot, "you were way too aggressive," and knowing that she was actually, for her, not being very aggressive in that round.
Happy moment number ten: Having policy kids from our team, who always ignore me, congratulate me, and having Mr. Pogreba congratulate me.
Happy moment number eleven: Having our school win second place in sweepstakes and knowing I was a part of that.
Happy moment number twelve: Hearing Amanda from Billings shout to me as she left that I was the one that made the tournament worth while, and that I rocked her world.
Happy moment number thirteen: Hugging Jen good bye and hearing from her that she had come to this tournament for me and I had made it worth while.
Happy moment number fourteen: Telling Amanda all of this.
Happy moment number fifteen: Going out to celebrate with Brittany, and both us being so tired that we kind of slurped italian sodas in silence before we both agreed we were exhausted and needed to go to bed.
Happiest realization of all: I am capable of believing in myself.
It was a pretty cool tournament.
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