A Visit

My dad arrived in town last night to visit.

I didn't get to see him until this morning. I was running late (the usual; the closer you are to something, the later you'll be) and came clomping down the stairs in my boots to find my dad sitting in front of the desk. He looked the same as I remember, the white beard, the carefully selected clothes, the stylish shades. He also looked completely comfortable and relaxed - he fit in perfectly. When my mom showed up, I remember feeling completely weirded out by her presence. I was glad to see her - but it was a colliding worlds moment. Not so with my dad. He fits perfectly.

I brought him to breakfast and a FYP lecture. Even though I am no longer a FYPer, I knew that a FYP lecture would be the best way to let my dad see what King's is all about. We planned his visit so he could see the lecture today, by one Wayne Hankey, and he did not disappoint. My dad loved it.

We poked around on campus, he saw my room, and we went out to grab a sandwich for lunch. I invited him to sit in on my afternoon class (it's only nine people, but he met my prof in the FYP lecture, and the prof invited him too) but he wanted to take off and look around Halifax. Here I'd been worrying about entertaining him, keeping him interested - I forget how good my dad is at doing that for himself.

We're going to the High Mass at the chapel this evening, so he can experience that and meet some of my friends. After dinner, he'll turn in early and I'll get some work done and we'll do it all over again tomorrow.

"You have a nice life here, it seems," my dad said over lunch.

I guess I do. But it's weird to think about this being a life. A separate life. To me, Ottawa, Halifax, it's all my life. It's all part of the same thing. But to my parents, it's a separate life. It doesn't include them. At times like these, I miss them extra, even when they're right next to me, on the end of the phone or in my city.

The lamest lucid dream ever

I have an oral presentation tomorrow and, in high school angst-style, it's made its way into my dreams.

Two nights ago, I dreamed I was in a play. It was a short play and I had a small part, but for some reason I hadn't yet been able to learn my lines. The play was about to be performed to an audience, at my old elementary school (??). I was fretting and fussing and freaking out right up to the point where I was about to walk on the stage. I was madly trying to memorize my lines (unsuccessfully) when my cue came. I took two steps on to the stage, thought "I don't need to learn these lines, this is just a dream! It doesn't matter!" and turned and left.

I guess that means I was having a lucid dream; isn't that the way it is when you realize you're having a dream in your dream? Well, I thought lucid dreams meant you were in control, but this one did not work that way. I tossed and turned all night, stuck in this annoying dream where I couldn't remember my lines and people were mad at me but I knew it was totally not important.

Hmm. Shrink that, I dare ya.

***************

So, I didn't get as much work done as I would have liked, last weekend. But I enjoyed the fall air, away from the city. I went canoeing on the Kennebecasis River and the marsh near Phil's house. I ate the most delicious lobster roll, again, courtesy of Phil's mom. I did some reading curled up on the couch with someone I love very much. What more could one ask of a weekend?

I will next see Phil in three weeks, when he comes to visit for my birthday (YAY!). I can't wait.

In NB

I'm back in the land of New Brunswick for the weekend. I'm hoping it will give me a chance to relax, read, and hit 'reset' on my internal dialogue.

The past few weeks have been stressful for me. I'm not too sure why that is - I have five classes to balance, just like everyone else, and I didn't even have many midterms. Somehow I still ended up in the sad territory of Behind In Every Class.

Not true, actually - not in journalism 2001. Somehow I'm on track there.

Everything else is a bit of a nightmare. I don't know what my problem is, frankly; I wish I could figure out a system where I could balance my work and my society stuff and my life. I'm a strong believer that social life can be as important as academics, and I don't want to let my friendships fall by the wayside, but I have some serious catching up to do. For serious.

Mostly in the past weeks I've been stressing my face off and accomplishing little. This is not helpful. I even considered not going home with Phil for this weekend visit, due to my homework. But in the end, I decided that I needed some time away to relax and work at once. Unwind a little. Breathe.

I have indeed been breathing. The air here smells good and the trees are all naked against the crisp, blue sky. Phil and I went tromping around in the woods behind his house. I seem to be cursed to bring ridiculous amounts of rain to flood the basement and the yard every time I come. Just lucky, I guess. We spent the afternoon digging a ditch to diver water and taking a walk through the forest. I have tuckered myself out.

I don't know what tomorrow will be; we have some plans for outings we might take. I just hope I finish some work and breathe in the fall air.

Happy fall, everyone.

A bad start

Today did not start well.

I woke up with my alarm at 8:15. This is bad. If I've had anywhere near enough sleep, I wake up at 8:05, and lie awake waiting for my alarm. I look out at the quad, I study the light; the sun's light is really beautiful at that time of day. I really enjoy a few quiet minutes thinking before I get up and start my day.

Now, I know I woke up with my alarm only because I turned it off. That is the only way I could come to be lying in bed, stirred by a loud conversation in the hallway, at 9:10. My cell phone was sitting silently in my hand. Great.

I ran to breakfast to try to grab something to eat before it closed. Unfortunately, I was still half asleep. For some reason, there was a new coffee percolator at the tea and coffee station. It sticks out more. I noticed the difference because when I filled my tea and moved over to the milk part, I knocked against it, spilling the tea everywhere and scalding my hand. After swearing loudly, and jumping up and down, I refilled my tea. And did the same thing over again. I scalded myself TWICE. Ouch.

It was gray and gross today, which made me sleepy and I felt weirdly light-headed a lot of the day. I was moderately productive, but not enough. I have cleaned my room, however, in preparation for Phil's arrival later tonight. YAY. I think the bad start will get better from now on.

A picture I took that I like

portrait, originally uploaded by ekhornbeck.

A portrait, I suppose.

The Cat

Chico is the cat who thinks he lives in my residence. He comes to visit, meowing outside the door until someone lets him in - even at 6am. Sometimes Chico stays for only a few minutes, and sometimes for hours, roaming through the Manning Room, looking around the desk, curling up in the chair in front of the desk. Chico has been my borrowed cat, something warm and soft to cuddle when I'm stressed and far from the cats I love.

Turkey.

I forget sometimes, after a few weeks of cafeteria food, that food can be delicious, nutritious, and satisfying, all at once. This weekend definitely reminded me.

I had resigned myself to missing Thanksgiving at home this year, but through a series of events, it came to be that I got on a plane Saturday morning, bound for Ottawa. I was not in top shape. For one thing, I was very sleepy. Here is why:

Thursday: 7:45 am I went to breakfast with Katie after staying up all night in my room, writing papers. Hers on Castro, mine on the Scientific Revolution. At 5am we realized that what we wanted more than anything was tater tots and eggs for breakfast. It was our light at the end of the tunnel. We ate, she departed for her home, and I to class.

It was a terrible idea to stay up all night. I had a test that day, and then my best friend's 19th birthday party. Upside: paper done. Downside: partying on zero sleep. My body said no at about 11:30pm and I went to bed. I felt gross until Sunday, but a day well worth it. So very stereotypically college-student of me, no? In any case, Here is what I woke up to Friday morning:

Thursday night leftovers... -

...and Wednesday night leftovers -
I cleaned before I left on Saturday and just now, walking into my pristine room was the most rockin' feeling ever. I don't know why I used the word rockin', but I feel no other word would really describe it. Thank you, me from Saturday. Coming in to a clean room is the best.

Friday was a good day. I spent the evening doing laundry at the Far House with Sarah (Davis gone to Ottawa) and Gabe. They invited me over for dinner and together we threw together a chicken curry with (properly cooked!) rice and fabulously stir-fried green beans. REAL FOOD. It was amazing. I'm pretty sure I had a food revelation that night - we cooked, and it wasn't too hard. It was wonderful, and impressive, and delicious. I could do that. I could cook! Maybe I will some day. I ended up staying in instead of going out, packing and playing ridiculous drinking games (involving animal sounds).

On Saturday morning, I woke up, easily packed my suitcase, didn't overfill it, didn't stress out, met my ride to the airport, got on the plane, left. Easy. I have never had an easier flying experience; normally I hate flying and I stress way out. Not this time. It really set the tone for the weekend - I was relaxed and happy, enjoyed my time, didn't over-stress. I got to catch up with Andrea and Milan, I saw family, ate with family friends. I watched too much TV. I accomplished no reading. I ate pumpkin pancakes.

Now I'm here. In my clean room. Plenty on my plate, but happy. Feeling warm and loved, and looking forward to Phil arriving back in town next Monday. Now I need to read my face off in preparation.

All I feel is tired.

Exhaustion has come back to greet me like an old friend. It has draped itself across my shoulders and up my neck. It has filled my head with cotton balls. It has made my joints ache ever so slightly. It has crawled down my legs and seeped into my bones. Ah, yes, exhaustion. Now I remember.

I spent the latter half of Winter semester on four hours of sleep a night. I have no clue what the hell I was doing. That was dumb. Very dumb. I was delirious half the time and grumpy the other half. I have no idea how anyone put up with me. I have been a much saner person so far this year - a lot less staying up to ridiculous hours and a lot more going to bed at one.

However, getting 6 hours of sleep a night has been fine in the past, when interspersed with nights of eight or nine hours' sleep. Slowly, the lack of sleep crept in on me. I'm sleeping forever next weekend.

WOW - I just realized next weekend is Thanksgiving weekend. That was shockingly fast. I am heading home for the holiday, so maybe I'll see some of y'all in Ottawa.