Plan Number Six

I hate tests. One of the major reasons I chose history as a major is that there are absolutely zero traditional tests in history classes. I am perfectly comfortable determining how long I need to spend writing a paper, but it is impossible for me to determine how much time I need to allocate for studying political theory and microeconomics. This problem is especially aggravating when I have to study for two tests and write a paper for Monday and then write two more papers for Tuesday. Life is a little bit of hell right now.

Thanks god for sisters, friends, and boyfriends; if I were at home I would have gone insane a long time ago.

Approximately an hour and a half ago, I was wandering around Target. I was smiling at people I made eye contact with, as I usually do, but overall minding my own business. The CD/DVD section was near the end of my circuit around the store, and it was there that my fairly innocuous trip to Target turned sour.

There was a guy standing there looking at the rap CDs. He said hello, so I smiled and returned the favor. I expected that to be the end of the exchange, but this was not the case. "What's your name, beautiful?" I couldn't believe he'd actually said that, yet I answered him anyway. This was obviously a mistake, as for the next five to ten minutes he proceeded to follow me around the store asking what I was looking for, where I was going, and what my plans were for the day. I lied about my plans, saying I was going to spend all day with my sister, and then took a few random turns down uninteresting aisles and crossed my fingers. I'd finally lost him.

A few turns later and he was back again. Fortunately, I was the only one who realized we were right next to each other. With a bit of maneuvering, I was able to completely avoid him all the way through checkout. As soon as I was in my car, I sent a text to my sister: "I was just hit on at Target and he would not go away. Ew."

Needless to say, I am glad that's over.

Rest in peace, Pisbardo. Even after complications with your screen transplant caused you to go deaf and dumb, you were so good to me. I'm sad to see you finally go.

However, I must admit that if my dad actually does keep his word for once and replace you with a MacBook before summer's out, I won't miss you all that much. Sorry.

If he was just humoring me like he usually does, though, and I'm stuck with my iMac G3 for another year or two (or three or four), you will definitely continue to hold a place in my heart. At least you didn't anchor me to my desk.

Unrelated: Why do I seem to be the only one who isn't dreading the coming return to school? Am I the only one who actually likes the people there and wants to see them again? This childish fear borders on ridiculous. Get over it.

Right before school let out in early May, Michael and I wandered over to Borders for a break from campus for a few hours. I had my beautiful pocket sized Moleskine notebook with me to write down the names and authors of anything interesting with the intent of placing holds on all the books on the list with my local library system at home. While slowly making my way up and down the aisles, focusing particularly on the new releases, best-sellers, and employee recommendations, I came across The Feminine Mistake: Are We Giving Up Too Much? by Leslie Bennetts. After reading the description on the jacket, I was intrigued. It went on my list.

It's a popular book, apparently. In retrospect, I must have found it with the best-sellers or new releases, or else it wouldn't have taken so long for me to get a copy. My hold finally came through last week, and it's been staring at me on top of the stack of books next to my night stand ever since. After having difficulties falling asleep tonight, I decided to give up on dreams and broaden my horizons with a good read rather than continue to let my mind wander aimlessly. Surely a popular book apparently bemoaning the choices of modern women would be more interesting than endless speculation about how to help Sammy fix her awful hair?

I was right. I'm only twenty-one pages in, and I'm already a fan. It's odd, how life works; I was just talking to my parents about this issue while on the way to the airport to pick up the Dramatic Duo. As we were driving along, my mom mentioned that two more of our family friends are getting married during summer vacation from college, which brings the total up to four now. I couldn't believe that so many intelligent young women were putting their future education and careers on the line just so they could spend a bit more time every day with their beaux and finally be able to have sex. (You must understand that every couple here is Mormon, and therefore none believe in premarital sex.) My mom brought up not being able to hold back much longer as a reason to get married, which is ridiculous; if they are struggling so much with the law of chastity, they shouldn't be getting married in a temple anyway. It is strictly verboten to lust after what you can't have.

With the sex issue out of the way, the only positives left are spending more time together and feeling secure in the relationship. While I understand completely about wanting some security, I have no doubts whatsoever that the negatives far outweigh the positives to getting married before graduating from college. (These negatives are all doubly potent for the two couples I know who are getting married after their freshman year, the year they met. Insanity!) First and foremost is the temptation to just stop going to school. Why would a girl need a degree, anyway? Her husband is going to provide for her. All she needs to do is take care of the children. If she graduated and got a job, all she'd be earning would go toward childcare. So what's the point? It's just a waste of money, which is something newlyweds don't have much of. If she just drops out, she can focus on homemaking, and, hopefully soon after the marriage, raising a family.

( THAT IS SUCH A BAD IDEA. )

Please understand that I don't see anything wrong with a woman choosing to be a mother and a housewife, as long as she has a back-up plan. However, the only way I can see myself being prepared for life blowing up in my face, as it is wont to do, is to have a career of my own. So please, do me a favor: Slap me if you ever catch me thinking about quitting school or ending my career in order to be a mother/housewife while my husband wins the bread. I don't want to make the mistake my mother made.

That was possibly the most relaxing hour and a half of my life, and I spent the entire time exercising. Walking, jogging, running, and swinging while silently singing along with my iPod are my new favorite things to do. I love my neighborhood.

If you're looking for a blissful cardio workout, do some swinging while listening to very intense girl-power post-breakup songs. I was amused to find my heart rate around 140 bpm when I finally slowed down after a long run of Kelly Clarkson & Co.

Perhaps I can convince my sister to walk down to the park again with me later today. It's my new favorite place, and she's my favorite person. What better way to spend an afternoon?

( Pretty, witty, and gay? )

I'm so tired. For some reason I haven't been able to get to sleep at night, despite being awake for 20+ hours and only sleeping for four for three days now. I'd have thought the running would have helped last night, but no dice.

That communication error I was ranting about the other day still hasn't been solved; she has yet to get back to me. I could wring her neck!

Thursday morning draws ever closer. I guess the upside is that I'll have some pretty sweet "sexy librarian" glasses when it's all over and done with, even if the downside will most likely be having to wear said glasses all the time.

I was going to go biking after church, but it's been raining hard off and on all day. It wouldn't be the most intelligent thing to go riding a bike I'm not very familiar with around an extremely hilly neighborhood right after rain or while it's raining, so I guess it'll have to wait for another day. Running resumes tomorrow, though, rain or shine. I have a schedule, and I intend to stick to it.

House with Lexi will save the day!

( Here be vague ranting. )

I'm still jumpy about my eyes. I finally called to get an appointment; it's 9 AM on Thursday. At least I know I'll be up and ready to face the day fairly early, right? Always look on the bright side of life, I guess. Ugh.

I spent all yesterday with my sister helping her prepare for her rafting/camping trip this weekend. It was just what I needed. I told her about the Michael fiasco and she told me about Brett getting better and we sang along with my incredibly long playlist at the top of our lungs for hours on end while we baked and organized and packed. It was fantastic. I love my sister.

I'm starting a running program today, the Couch-to-5K Running Plan, and I'm really excited about it. I've been running all summer with no real direction, just trying to get off my butt and out of the house, but now I'll have some sort of guide telling me what I should be accomplishing each time I go out there. Structure is basically my best friend, so this should be very good for me. Wish me luck in sticking to it, will you?

Today was kind of odd. I had planned on spending a lot of it with Lexi marathoning House, but that didn't work out. We got the news that my cousin's baby had been born and decided to go visit right after my mom got off work. Juli went with us, and our expedition ended up taking us from the hospital to Ikea, Cosco, and Safeway for a grand total of four hours, which was rather unexpected but kind of fun.

The baby's face was really blotchy. I imagine that's true for all babies, but I joked about it anyway—"Emma obviously needs a proper toning moisturizer to clean up those blotches!" Unfortunately, my sister is currently waiting for the results of a pregnancy blood test to get back to her, so she's very touchy, and she jumped all over me before I pointed out that I was (obviously!) joking. Yeesh. Two months ago the thought of being pregnant almost made her cry to me over the phone. Her opinion has definitely changed. To get her to lighten up I had to make a few jokes about babies on clearance. Tough crowd.

My mom and I ended up looking at glasses frames today while we were at Cosco, and I've decided I like chunkier glasses better than the wire ones I have now. My two favorites were a pair by Calvin Klein and a pair by Emporio Armani that would both be almost completely covered by our insurance. (I'm not 100% sure those are the frames I was looking at, but they're close enough.) About an hour ago or so, though, it hit me that I'll probably be wearing glasses all the time now, and the thought is a bit shocking.

It shouldn't be. I haven't had my eyes checked in two years and I know they've gotten worse; my glasses don't help as much as they used to. It's been a month or so since I started thinking about getting another eye exam and new glasses, so I should be used to the idea by now.

I'm being silly. Glasses aren't a big deal. They'll just make me look even smarter, right?

(The correct response to that question is yes.)

And I'm back once again, with yet another entry. It's almost sad how often I update this thing when I don't have people around to talk to all the time, isn't it? I used to think I was fairly introverted; now I realize that I'm only introverted when I'm friendless.

There was this horrific moment a little bit ago where I was reading some really adorable scene in my book and I completely melted. I've obviously been away from my boyfriend for too long. Heavens. I thought I'd passed that stage when I turned eleven, but apparently not.

Lexi and I saw Ocean's 13 this afternoon and followed that up with a very long House marathon. Both were amazing, and I actually got in the right lane this time on the way home from the theater! I'm almost proud. Driving home at three in the morning after the marathon was a little creepy, for some odd reasons that I need not get into, but I got home fine and that's what's important.

I'm listening to far too much music lately. I should probably stop. My shuffled playlist of Lily Allen, Keane, Corinne Bailey Rae, Regina Spektor, The Fratellis, The Feeling, The Kooks, The Scissor Sisters, etc. is like a drug. Is there a patch to help you quit music?

If I'm going to be up this early, I'm going to watch the sun rise. Maybe I should borrow my dad's laptop and make myself comfortable on the deck. That would be rather gorgeous, wouldn't it? I think I've got myself a plan.

Even better than that, though, would be going down to the beach with a sweatshirt and a camera. I can't take the path because I'd be alone and there are rapists(!), but I could drive down there perfectly safely. I'm doing it.

I read an article in the New York Times today about age differences in kindergarten and how they affect performance after the fact. At one point, the author quoted Fred Morrison, a developmental psychologist at the University of Michigan, who said:

You couldn’t find a kid who skips a grade these days. We used to revere individual accomplishment. Now we revere self-esteem, and the reverence has snowballed in unconscious ways — into parents always wanting their children to feel good, wanting everything to be pleasant.

Well!

I fully believe that skipping the fourth grade was one of the best things I ever did, and my only regret about that situation is that I didn't take the opportunity to skip the fifth at the same time. I've never had problems making friends with people who are a year or two older than me; in fact, when I skipped, I already had a solid group of friends in fifth grade and experienced very little social discomfort. The only times in my life when I had problems with making friends all came after switching schools, when it is perfectly normal for children to experience such difficulties. I remained in higher-level courses throughout elementary, middle/junior and high school, and remained in good standing in those courses. My achievements were enough to persuade a private fund to award me $12k/yr to go to school at Willamette University, where I pay a grand total of $3,000 per year for the same education most pay $35,000 per year for.

I really cannot see how being younger than my classmates has had any detrimental effects on me, personally or scholastically. All of my current annoying personality traits (such as being prone to frequent ranting and often delivering cutting remarks, as well as being aggravatingly persistent at times) can be traced back to long before the epic Skipping of the Fourth Grade (the first grade-skipping in Camelot history, zomg!!!!1). One such personality trait, my elitism, was actually tempered by it—the transition from always being the best in the class to just being one of the best was a difficult one, but somehow I made it through. Amazing, I know.

I don't see anything wrong with having some children start kindergarten a year later. This practice can be entirely logical. However, I don't quite understand why the article puts such a negative light on letting younger children move ahead when it can be so beneficial. Before skipping that grade, I never felt normal. I never felt like my friends were as smart as I was, and I was always forced to hold the positions of peace-keeper and advice-giver in my circles of friends. I kept those positions through high school because they became comfortable, but after fourth grade, being closer to my peers academically allowed me to feel better about myself and my place in the world. I was never entirely comfortable with myself before fifth grade, but moving up changed that for me.

The article talks about how we currently revere self-esteem over individual accomplishment, but my choice to skip a grade encompassed both—it was an individual accomplishment that improved my self-esteem, as well as my ability to relate to people around me. I don't understand why people are so against the practice of skipping grades now when my life improved so drastically because of it.

( In other news, I am bored out of my mind! )