Oh hey there little blog

Yesterday as I posted that thing about Mati going to Russia I noticed that I didn't write a single post in February. Not one. I rarely write posts anyway, but the fact that I didn't write something in February was significant because it's the first month I've missed since I started actually writing in May '08. I thought maybe I'd cheat and go publish one of the drafts I wrote in February, but as it turns out, there weren't any of those either.

Well. It deserves mentioning I guess.

In other news, the end is near. Somehow my winding six year plan still ended up with me getting to the end of my college career. I don't know how that happened, but here I am 146 credits later with no more classes to take. Only one more semester of student teaching before I'm completely done. I'm terrified.

I was in an interview earlier this week, and the lady asked me where I see myself in five years. I gave a pretty good truthful answer, but as I went home I thought about it more and more. I've always had life goals for myself. Daydreams of what I want my future to be, but now I'm at that point where I have to actually make my future what I want it to be. But I don't know what my next step is going to be. This uncertainty is not fun.

I feel like I live most of my life feeling uncertain. Uncertain about my major, uncertain about boys, about work, about my talents, about where I should live, about what I want to do. I've always been sort of indecisive, but this uncertainty is beginning to wear on me. It's wearing through that soft layer of optimism down to the hard apathy that lies beneath. Things always just kind of work out in my life, which is a blessing. I know it. But I kind of just want to know. I just want to know what to do. This faith business is hard work.

Also, I hope you all noticed I changed the typeface on my blog header to Goudy Old Style. I love how the i is dotted with a diamond.

In the wee hours of the morning we saw Matisse off.

Russia.

Sam the biker

Yesterday Sam was in a Cat 5 race in Benjamin. Cat 5 is kind of notorious for being full of people who have the strength to ride but not the experience to ride well. They're known for crashing a lot. And true to form yesterday they crashed right in front of Sam and he went over his handlebars at 25mph. Now his right forearm looks like this:









They took him to the hospital in an ambulance and he's having surgery on Monday.

Return of the plasma

Recently, I started selling my blood again. Back in October I went on a little hiatus but recent economic crisis like tuition deadlines have turned me like a dog to its vomit, back to the place of plasma.

As I sat in the medical chaise lounge pumping my fluids away for cash I heard another guy talking about how he's been doing this for a year and a half now. Then I realized I've been doing this almost non-stop since the summer of 2009. That's two and a half years. I thought, "man, that's a long time. I'm pretty much a pro at this by now. I've seen everything" And it's true, I've seen people pass out, people vomit, lots of needle adjustments, some pretty bad bruises, plus about every B movie I've never wanted to see (Ghost Rider anyone?) "Yeah," I thought, "I've seen it all."

Then as the phlebotomist removed the needle from my arm the tube disconnected from the needle and splattered blood all over my face, my shirt, my chair, his scrubs and the trainee he was demonstrating for.

Selling blood is fun.

Sign #34 that you're a college student: The ability to fall asleep at any time, anywhere, for any reason

Last night I was watching the Republican Florida debate at my parents house. Right after Wolf asked the final question I thought to myself, "I'm just going to lie down on the floor here for a bit." Next thing I knew it was 3am, I was still lying on the carpet in the middle of the study, and I hadn't even heard the answers to the question. My family had proceeded to live their lives normally, stepping around my sleeping body all evening and then gone to bed leaving me with nothing but carpet and the company of our home's only non-bed blanket—Phyllis II. I have a few vague recollections of being uncomfortable but otherwise I could have been a log.

My family apparently believed I was.

In which Lexi has a very bad day as well as a top five most awkward encounter of her life.

This morning I was walking to school and two cars in a row refused to stop for me in the crosswalk. As the second one came close to hitting me I thought some unchristian things before continuing my walk while considering what this meant for the prognosis of my day. I slowly made my way to the class for which I am a TA. Class started, I gave some critiques, named some typefaces—the usual stuff, but then about midway through the period, the largest wave of sickness and pain I've ever felt rolled through my abdomen bringing fuzzy edges and dry heaving as I started wishing to die.

I didn't die though. Instead I spent five minutes of agony begging the receptionist for some pain medication followed by a brief lie down on the floor in the bathroom (yes, I did that) in an attempt to avoid passing out. After a few more minutes of terrible pain I formulated a plan. "I have to go home." I thought, "I can't curl into a ball and cry in front of my class." So I called my mom to come pick me up, and then with as much composure as I could muster, told my professor that I had to go home.

He just gave me a confused, "okay..." after which I left. I exited the lab and walked down the stairs of the Snell about to leave the building when who did I run into?

Oh, just that one boy who I sort of broke-up with last week. (actually, he might have broken up with me, I'm not entirely sure, the details are still a little hazy) That one boy who I sent a border-line mean text to last night. That one boy who I hadn't spoken to since then.

That one boy exited the classroom right next to the stairs at the exact second my foot reached the ground level. There would be no pretending we hadn't seen each other. It was required to speak.

"Hey." said Lexi.

"Hey." said the boy.

Please can we lie down and die now?! said Lexi's body.

Nothing, said the hallway.

"So, I'm sort of sorry about that mean text yesterday." apologized a delirious Lexi. (what she meant was sorry about that sort of mean text yesterday.)

"I understand." said the boy.

Nothing, said the hallway. Nothing for at least fifteen seconds.

Why are you stopping to have a conversation?! Lexi's body cried.

"I'm going to get some food if you want to come with." said the boy in an attempt to be nice and let them still be friends.

"I'm actually feeling kind of sick, so I'm just going home." explained Lexi.

Mildly put, said the body.

"Oh. Okay." responded the boy.

Leave now! said the body.

Enter: Girl who knows the boy and has a voice that at this moment was irritating beyond all reason.

"Hey there." Voice said to the boy

"Hi." he said.

LET'S GO! said the body.

"Did you get a haircut?" Voice asked.

"Yes" said the boy

WHY ARE YOU STILL STANDING HERE? said the body.

Awkwardness, said the hallway.

"Bye." said Voice as she left.

"Your hair does look nice. Okay, bye" Lexi said as she walked through the same door the boy was also going to leave through. He, however, paused so he wouldn't have to walk next to her.

Too bad she sat down on the curb by the parking lot that he had to walk past to leave the Snell. She sat because she could no longer stand and then called her mom again to see where she was. The boy walked past Lexi sitting in a skirt on an icy curb bent in half crying to her mother over the phone and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry, I'm fine." Lexi said as she died a little.

Ahhhh. Go away! said Lexi's body.

I'm getting your skirt really wet, said the curb.

The boy made an exit in an incredibly awkward fashion while thinking Lexi was a crazy loon.

Long story short, the next two hours were spent in terrible pain, after which every symptom vanished leaving Lexi happy as a clam once again.

Well, maybe bottom half of the clam's happiness scale.

The New Year

Well 2011 came and went. I accomplished some cool things like... more school...

However, one accomplishment (sort of) I found today was that I made it onto Justin Hackworth's Best Photos of 2011 post. Yeah, that's right, scroll down about 43 photos and you will indeed see me on the list. And my grandma too.

I'm famous.

Snoozin 'N Treats

Before finals ended I wrote a list of things I wanted to do over Christmas break because I was going to have lots of time to do whatever I wanted. It included reading novels, sewing things, designing things, changing my portfolio, etc.




Instead, I have spent my time doing this:



I hope you are having a good break. Mine has been tasty.

In which we talk about someone who is way cooler than me.

This is my sister Matisse. (The one wearing reindeer horns)

We've talked about her on here before, but I would just like to say that my sister is the smartest, wittiest, Dostoevsky lover-ist person I know.

And that's not even an exaggeration either.

Sure, she writes a genius blog on which she sometimes mentions her accomplishments like getting into the graphic design probram, getting paid to go to Russia for a semester, or talks about our cat, Coldplay, or her Honda Civic Turbo. But I am here to tell you people that you don't even know the half of it. Probably not even the smallest fraction.

You don't know about the conversations we have where we discuss Gotham and Didot, or geeky inside jokes we like to make last forever. You don't see our deeply complex negotiations over clothing sharing or those times when we recline the seats in the car and discuss our woes. You don't know the clever nicknames we give things (nor will you ever) or the times we talk about the future.

But you don't have to just take my word for it—just meet the kid and she'll spew some awesomeness for you.

The passion that fills this girl's soul is something that most people don't really comprehend. Sometimes it consumes her, but always it drives her to be great. Some people would look at her and think, "Wow, she's so lucky!" But luck has got nothing to do with it. She's worked so hard for all of those good things. (Except me of course, I was a gift from Heaven) She doesn't always succeed, but she always comes back even stronger.

There is no one else in this universe that could be a better sister to me.

In which the sleepless zombie formerly known as Lexi has her luck run out

Yesterday I had my 7am class for the last time. Since 7am is not really a time that is easy to be punctual for, my genius little TEE posse came up with a system of taking turns going to class on time to make sure we get the announcements at the beginning of class. (which are generally the only important thing we do in there.)

Yesterday was my turn.

Since I stayed up until 4:30 the night previously, when my alarm went off at 6:15 I instantly snoozed and made no more movements. And then suddenly it was 6:52. I took exactly three minutes to wallow in self-pity and think loathsome thoughts about cold weather, and early morning classes and this terrible responsibility that was mine, before I blindly stumbled out of my loft bed (possibly—no, definitely the worst kind of bed one could ever have) and felt my way to the bathroom.

I say blindly because it was way too early for there to be any light and as of Tuesday my glasses look like this:

Don't even ask me how that happened. One second they were on my face, the next they were on the ground broken. They didn't hit the ground and break, they broke, fell, then hit the ground. Yeah, my face broke my glasses. Unfortunately, what this meant for me that morning was that I was going to have to put in my contacts.

Now friends, allow me to explain that there is nothing so utterly uncomfortable and miserable than doing a sleep deprived shuffle into a too bright bathroom at 6:55am with dry eyes and trying to open them wide enough to stick your finger and a small piece of rubber onto them.

Nothing.

I finally squashed them in and decided tokeep my eyes mostly shut in an effort to help them adjust as I went and pulled on a pair of jeans, ugg boots and a coat. Then I went to the car, drove to the Crabtree parking lot, sat the Pearl in an illegal spot and marched right on into class.

It was boring, and pointless, and everything I knew it would be but then I had a rather odd sensation. I thought, "what is wrong? Something is amiss. I know it." And then it hit me. I carefully looked around the room to see who's field of vision I was in, and then I casually did a little back scratch on my self.

Yep, I sure wasn't wearing a bra.