Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

A lot has changed since last year and I will tell you right now that I am thankful for everything that happened in the past year. A lot of it was good and a lot of it was bad but through all of it (the wonderfully good and the wonderfully crappy) I have learned and gained so much. Though there was quite a bit of pain involved, I wouldn't have had it any other way. I wouldn't want to go through it a second time but I would never wish to change it.

If nothing else, awful situations build character. And as a bonus, they make you feel as if you never have to take crap from anybody.

Thanksgivings, like other holidays, are complicated in my family. We have joy, don't get me wrong, but there is always a profound sadness and a sense of loss. Even my severely autistic younger brother feels the loss. All day he has been saying "I want Papa." Though he was verbally and emotionally abused, he still misses having that fourth person. The stability, the wholeness. Because for him, four is the way families are supposed to be, four is 'right'.

It is very difficult to explain drug and alcohol addiction to a disabled child.

I honestly do not dwell much on the past twelve years of my life, what happened to us happened and it was very, very bad. I don't minimize it or brush it off, but it is in the past now and I have accepted that. For the first time in I don't know how many years, I am finally whole. And I am finally Julia. That is the thing I am the most thankful for.

And of course, I am thankful (extremely so) for my BFFs: Melissa, Melanie, Ally and Alex. You guys rock more than Neil Schon during that sweet guitar riff in "Anyway You Want It". You guys helped me through so much in the summer and even during the school year whenever I needed you. I love you all so much <3^pi x infinity

[PS: WE NEED TO GET TOGETHER EITHER TOMORROW OR SATURDAY BECAUSE I GO BACK ON SUNDAY]

Watched 'Fiddler on the Roof' as is the Thanksgiving tradition in our family and now my mother wants to watch 'Doctor Who' with me after hearing me refer to it since the end of May. Five bucks says we'll have to use subtitles since asian people have difficulty understanding English + any form of accent.

I can't wait until Crimmus! I have so many great presents for my mama and brother :D And I'm so freaking excited for our yearly Christmas/New Years celebration, ladies!

Going to stop whining and get things done.

Viola update: had my recital performance in which I flubbed a few notes (BADLY HOLY COW) though when I spoke to others about it afterwards, they said the only reason they knew I flubbed was because I "told the audience through my face". My face is a continuing problem for me in performances, but I can't help it. I have an expressive/mobile face. Anyway, I thought for sure my viola prof would be on my butt for it but I got an email from him in which he said "You did well! We'll discuss this at your lesson." Hey, it's not a pat on the back but with him, you take what you can get. Whoo.

Speaking of professors, I give you Exhibit Z on why Wilson is the greatest prof ever:

We were all sitting in class on Wednesday and five minutes after class should have begun, Wilson has not shown up yet. Zac, Cam and I always sit by the window so I was kind of zoning out, watching the world amble by. Suddenly I see Wilson burst out one of the chapel doors and start power-walking towards the art building (where our Great Con class is randomly held. I don't know why). He was cutting across the grass to save time and at one point he looked up, so I wave my arms at him. He has a briefcase in each hand and waves his arms around above his head, while veering off and approaching the window. I was laughing my head off at that point, thinking OH MY GOSH, WHAT IS HE DOING?. He finally gets to the window, braces his hands against the ledge and tries to CLIMB THROUGH IT, foot up on the ledge and everything! Then he ends up just clawing and banging on the glass. Eventually he gives up and heads over to the entrance, breezes into the room and acts as if nothing happened. Class then proceeds as usual.

BAHAHAHAHAHA. HE IS SO COOL I CAN'T EVEN STAND IT. I want to be JUST LIKE HIM someday! Sans beard, though. I had a writing conference with him yesterday for my Milton paper and he helped me figure out a conclusion that was freaking genius. I was so moved that I stared at him for about five minutes before saying, "How long did it get you to be so clever?" to which he laughed and said, "Oh, no it has nothing to do with being clever. Your paper pointed me in that direction, I just worked off of you."

WILSON LIKES ME. That's all I require in life.

This weekend's going to be busy. Have to edit my Milton paper (WHICH IS NOW BRILLIANT THANKS TO THE GREAT CHARLIE WILSON) and study Chemistry. And work on a proposal for my Spencer paper. It's a good thing that I actually enjoy writing papers, or being an English major would be awful. So we've got academics plus a lot of events/shows to go to as well. Eeep.

And here, apropos of nothing, have some Winston Churchill quotes:

A lie gets halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on.

I may be drunk, Miss, but in the morning I will be sober and you will still be ugly.

A politician needs the ability to foretell what is going to happen tomorrow, next week, next month, and next year. And to have the ability afterwards to explain why it didn't happen.

Ending a sentence with a preposition is something up with which I will not put. MY FAVORITE ONE, I AM SO USING IT FROM NOW ON.

I love quoting Churchill.

Have a good weekend, friendies! I know a lot of you had icky weeks, but it's Friday and so, in the words of my roommate's bag of 'Flavor-Blasted Goldfish': CARPE some DIEM.

EDIT1: Got into all my Semester II classes! Next term is going to flipping ROCK.

Will write about Orchestra Tour later when I have all my thoughts more or less coherent. But as of now, another thing has been tickling at the edges of my mind.

So, I think by now I have made it clear enough that I want to go into writing in the future, though which area of writing (journalistic, fiction, creative non-fiction, etc) I am not sure of yet. I realize this is very much a hit-or-miss field to work within so I have been thinking about what I want to do otherwise should my whole "become-the-next-big-C.S-Lewis-except-Japanese-and-American-and-female" plan does not pan out. I know I want to be a professor at some point in time, at a liberal arts school like St. Olaf (I'm not sure if I'd actually like to come back and teach here though) but I'd like to get all my credentials and gain a lot more experience before I teach young'uns. A professorship narrows the playing field a little, but it raises the question of what area of English would I want to teach? Obviously, most profs in the English department (and other departments I guess) can cover a broad range of topics. I could teach a first year writing course, a creative [insert whatever form of writing I pursue] course or a British literature course (since I have taken three thus far) and so on. Then I was thinking what I would want to teach repeatedly for years (TENURE BAHAHA) and began sifting through genres that I adore. And you know what popped up? Russian literature.

I think I want to be a Dostoevsky scholar.

I would still write and see where that leads me, but as a fall-back I think I want to get my Masters and/or Ph.D in Russian Literature though emphasizing Dostoevsky's works.

I don't know for sure. I'm merely mulling it over in my mind for now.

Posted about this on DailyBooth already but...I'm pleased, alright?

I got an A- on our first Great Con paper. I was going down to check my mailbox because Cam said he got his back earlier that day, a statement that filled me with much fear and loathing. You see, Wilson apparently hated our papers. Or at the very least, he was not pleased by them. When we handed in our first drafts he said they "sucked" (TWICE IN ONE CLASS PERIOD) and that they were "disappointing" - Wilson tells it like it is. Once we had handed in our final drafts, he said he was "not overwhelmed", that almost all the papers could use another draft...and that they still sucked. So now you understand my fear. I was expecting to open my mailbox and find a huge, red F scrawled across each page.

I was on the phone with Zac as I checked my mailbox so he heard something that went a little like this: "Ok, so I'll be over in like 5 minu- OHMYGODZACWILSONGAVEMEBACKMYPAPEROHMYGOD. OHMYGOD. ZAC. OHMYGOD. ZAC. WILSON. GAVE. MEBACK. MY. PAPER. ZAC I'M NOT LOOKING AT IT UNLESS YOU'RE WITH ME. I NEED SUPPORT. *other high pitched squeaks of dismay*" And I did not look at the paper until I was up in Zac's room. Which is a fair jaunt. The whole time I was freaking out and calculating what grades I'd need to get on the midterm, final and second paper in order to get a good grade for this semester.

Then I actually looked at the grade and I shrieked.

I MAY STILL SUCK AT WRITING BUT WILSON THINKS MY SUCKAGE WARRANTS AN A-. Which is really gratifying for someone who wants to go into some form of writing (foolish, I know) for their future career. Maybe I am supposed to do this.

Afterwards Zac and I walked back to Mohn, stopping by to see if Wilson handed back his paper. Which he didn't. Just when Zac had mentally prepared himself for the ordeal too. Ask anyone, getting a paper back from Wilson is an ordeal. You need to emotionally prepare for it and you need to have someone with you, a shoulder to cry on if you will. Also, Wilson has horribly illegible handwriting. It's bad. It took us a while to decode his notes on my paper. Zac and I decided we'd compile a key for 'How to Read Wilson' and sell it to incoming students for profit.

Need to make it through midterms then leaving on tour tomorrow at 3! YAY, WARM WEATHER. BOO SOUTH.

GAH I HAVE TO PACK STILL.

Feel free to skip this entry if you don’t feel like knowing how I think. I won’t judge you for it because I will be the first to admit that I think oddly. I might be crazy. Someone has to be, I suppose, so as to be a baseline for all you sane people. I just need to get my thoughts out or else I will explode, just because there is too much up there. Way too much and not enough time to write them out, to make them coherent.

( No really, you don't have to read this )

Alright, lowering the volume on the static of my mind for a second to talk about some concrete, less esoteric stuff: Orchestra is stressing me out mildly. We are not at the same place we were with tour last year and we are playing some dang hard pieces. HARDCORE VIOLA PART ON ‘THE SORCERER’S APPRENTICE’, WHATWHAT? - watch it either via internet or in person JUST FOR THAT VIOLA PART. You’ll know it when you see it. Good God. Just. GOOD LORD. I can’t tell if Dukas had a lot of confidence in violists or if he hated us. I feel like a badass whenever we play it. Small things in life make me feel that way. But anyway, our conductor was so frustrated at us. And said some harsh things. It was bad. He was mad yesterday. Or “animated” as he says. With good reason. I know we’ll pull it together, since we always do and I know our home concert will be amazing. But. Gaaaah. GAH. Though, I am excited for tour this year. Bringing my swimsuit and parking it by the pool for our free days.

You people must think I am either the most negative-thinking or the angriest person ever to tread terra firma since a substantial amount of what I write here is venting out my frustrations. Though in actuality I am of a happy disposition, so I promise after this entry I will write about the good times more often.

This post will also be very esoteric because it involves people who need to remain unnamed so this will probably not make a whole lot of sense.

So let's do this.

( It's go time )

I don't know, I'm just still irked by two people right now both of whom acted very rudely (and discourteously and hurtfully and insensitively) to two people who deserve only the best support. This past week was insane and also filled with more drama than per usual...it was frustrating to see how people have been behaving. And disappointing. Not angry at anyone, I don't hate anybody here, do not avoid anyone but I'm just...confused by humanity in gerneral. I don't understand why people do hurtful things.

Still happy to be alive and it looks like it'll be a Big Sky day. Mmmm.

On that note: one more week before fall break and orchestra trippin' it down to Florida, Georgia and South Carolina! Had a great weekend at home and will be spending the day trying to get ahead.

EDIT: Clarifying evidence for a paper and as I was researching I came across this quote:

“Be assured that if you knew all, you would pardon all.” - Thomas Kempis

Thank you, God, I get the message. Like I said, I'm working on it.

Ah, this gorgeous fall weather is flooding me with anticipation regarding the future! This happens every year and I just loveitloveitloveitloveit. This morning was a continuation of my "pretty" (or at least, my "Julia") week that actually began on Wednesday but whatever so I wore this cute little green-and-white patterned hound's-tooth-esque skirt (with POCKETS) a grey sweater, my English riding boots and my dark green corduroy jacket. Much green was worn. Went to classes, so now sitting in a warm pool of sunlight with the window cracked open just enough to let a breeze in.

I'm still happy. Ha, let's see how long this will last since I've already had three days of (almost) pure exhilaration at being alive. It'll probably come crashing down soon but eh, so it goes. I'm enjoying it while it lasts.

This morning I was poking around the English department and seeing what classes are available for our J-term as well as for second semester. I've figured out my *ideal* schedule for next semester and I'm praying to God that I can get it because it would be an AMAZING SEMESTER. Here's what I'm thinking:

M/W/F

9:05-10:00 British Modern/Postmodern Literature (1890-2009) - YAY. Oh my God YAY. Best way to start the mornings, ever!
10:45-11:40 Visual Narrative: Image, Sequence, Story (Cross Disciplinary) - which is just a pretentious English major way of saying 'film studies'.
11:50-12:45 Great Con - great class, although the Intermediate Creative Non-Fiction Writing course that I very much want to take is at the same time as this. BOO GREAT CON. I hope by some fluke of scheduling I am with the Great Prof. Wilson again. Not going to happen. Also, we better do Dostoevsky this term or I'm going to flip out on somebody.
2:00-2:55 Introduction to Creative Writing - because I need to improve my creative writing skills ten-fold. At least.

And looking at a three hundred level English elective on transcendentalism (Thoreau, Emerson, etcetcetc) for J-term, which will be fun because I do enjoy Emerson especially. I'm super excited! All my classes could (potentially) be on MWF, which gives me all of Tuesday and Thursday to get stuff done. How wonderful would that be? Ah, I am so pleased.

Figured all this out mainly because I have an advisor meeting on Monday, though I really need to switch to someone in the English department soonish. I'm going to talk to my current advisor about it when I see her on Monday.

Otherwise, life is good. Still have a bunch of chemistry to make up (including a test, oh F my freaking L), as well as a paper to redo/fix up and a load of readings. Boo.

Funny story: In Great Con today Professor Wilson (who looks like God/Moses/Santa depending on your religious affiliation or lack thereof) was giving us tips for editing papers and he emphasized the importance of opening paragraphs: "The biggest thing to take care of is that first paragraph. All the opening paragraphs I read SUCKED. " then a little later "All the ugly opening paragraphs were a little disappointing".

Nothing is ever good enough. No matter how hard you try, you're just. Never. Good. ENOUGH.

And it makes me laugh every single time.

Also: it's Friday. Happy Friday, world.

I wish I had many more days like these.

I had a wonderful nights sleep last night, first of all. As in, I woke up in the exact same position I fell asleep in - something that NEVER HAPPENS TO ME. I'm a mover and a shaker when it comes to sleep. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful sleep. I actually had energy this morning (and also for some inexplicable reason I felt that today was going to be a good day) to put into looking pretty. I wore my favorite dress, my favorite boots and my favorite colours: green, more green, brown and gray. Actually, I don't know if I looked terribly pretty - but it was a quintessential Julia outfit, so I felt very Julia. Just how I like it.

It is also presently my favourite time of year: autumn.

As I was walking out of my dorm towards our commons building, overlooking the path going down to Northfield, the sun was so bright and the landscape just seemed to go on forever. The sky is a very vivid shade of blue, clear and stretches as far as your eyes can see. Today is a day of Big Sky. I felt the understanding that the world is so, so big and so, so inviting. I could see so far and yet, I knew there is still so much more and that someday I will go all over all of it. Someday I will be walking right up to and past that horizon. There is just so much world out there and I know I get to see it one of these days. I'll walk all over it, it will become a part of me and I will be made up of all of it. Also, I know that out there somewhere - be it in England or elsewhere - is someone who will understand me. We'll meet and for the first time, I will be understood. And also for the first time, I'll be at home and maybe I won't have to move around so much. Or maybe he'll go with me: England, Scotland, Ireland, Austria, Russia, Germany, France, Belgium, Denmark, China, Africa, Australia. I will be able to simply be Julia and that will be enough. I want to be known, every last particle of that which is Julia and to be understood. Very few people really know me, mainly because I don't let people get too close. I have a very rich, highly guarded inner-life that cannot be touched. In fact, no one has been in there besides me. Not even best friends, not family, not anyone. And I think that's just because it takes a key for other people to get in and no one has had one yet. I don't know who has a key or how many there are.

Ignore me right now, I'm being existential. It's amusing how existential I become when happy. Still not sure if I'd consider myself a true existentialist. I have a whole document I wrote up (because that's just what I do in my free time. Don't give me that look) in which I wrote out my thoughts/views on it. Yep, that's what Julia does for fun.

I don't know why autumnal days do this to me, but this feeling of anticipation, excitement and the feeling of being so little in a big world (and just being in general) comes most strikingly during the fall.

So yeah, nothing particularly "good" happened to me today but I am just happy.

So very happy to be.

Oh God, if someone gave me a slice of cheesecake right about now, I'd explode. FROM HAPPY.

I'll give you a break from the "heavy" aspects of my life and remind you all how ridiculous and just plain odd I can be.

Between substantial bouts of homework, I have managed to watch all of the 2005 season one of the show Doctor Who. Now I'll let you know why that show is an automatic win for two reasons: 1) IT'S A SCI-FI SHOW and 2) IT'S BRITISH. I've only let myself watch season one because I am kind of very much in love with Christopher Eccleston (who plays the title role) right now. And by love I mean "if-he-knew-I-existed-and-asked-me-to-marry-him-and-flee-with-him-to-the-north-(or south)-of-England-I-very-much-would-without-any-questions-asked-now-or-ever". Oh my God. MYGOD. I don't even know why. I know that if any of you looked him up or knew what he looked like, you'd probably say he's not the most handsome man ever.

BUT OH GOD. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY BUT I THINK HE IS SO INCREDIBLY ATTRACTIVE ITS BADBADBAD. If you watched the show and saw how funny, quirky, witty, smart and nice his character was...then you'd love him too. I guarantee it.

I am attracted to/get turned on by the weirdest things. But that's alright, someone has to be.

It's not a good sign though. I always, always, always am attracted to guys who are older. Sometimes only a few years, sometimes quite a few years older (as in ACTORS, okay, not like NORMAL CIVILIANS because that would be AWKWARD. Don't worry, I've never wanted to hit on any of your dads or anything). Watch, I'll end up with a British guy thirty years my senior. WITH MUTTON CHOPS AND A LANCASTER ACCENT. Sick. Well, about the mutton chops at least. I actually like the Lancaster accent. Heck, I like accents in general. Except Asian accents because those just sound silly. And I am allowed to say that because I am Asian.

A bunch of girls and I were talking about guys in general a few days ago and it was pretty funny. I don't know, most of them could easily picture themselves married in their early twenties or even now and most of them even hoped for it to happen rightnowimmediately. It's odd for me because I have no intention of getting married until I'm closer to my thirties, like around twenty-eight or so. Because it takes guys forever to mature so hopefully by the time my male peer group hits late-late-twenties/early-thirties or thereabouts they will have grown up to the point that they are not as obnoxious to deal with. Or maybe by the time I'm twenty-eight I will have accepted the stupidity of men and (knowing me and my weird turn-ons) will learn to love it for what it is. But in actuality the reason is mainly because I plan on being on the move quite a bit once I'm out of Olaf and heading to grad school. I have never really been able to stay in one place for more than two years. I think my record was three. But most of the time it's about a year. I've always been this way and I have noticed it becoming more acute this year, perhaps because the prospect of being able to travel next year is quickly approaching. Maybe this is why I want to be a writer, because I (ideally and assuming anyone at all wants to read my writing. FAT CHANCE) want a job that lets me move about. Lets me experience being in other countries and seeing how that changes or enhances my ability to communicate, tell stories. I want to live everywhere. And not just to stick around a country for a few months, no. I want to actually be there. To integrate it into me. That takes years. Again, this is all ideal situation daydreaming but that is what I want. I just want to try to understand people, the way they think, the way they feel and to be able to communicate with and through them. And somehow leave the world a little better when I get booted off this island earth then it was before I got dropped on it. I have a lot I don't know, a lot of things I can learn, I have too many places to see before I settle down.

NEEDLESS TO SAY. I have no idea what type of individual would be okay or, more importantly, happy with someone like me and my need for movement. Of course, there is also the issue of needing a guy who can keep up with me. I don't need someone to slow me down! Oh...but that sounds terribly selfish doesn't it? I promise, once I find someone worth it, I would do anything for him - including settle down and start making a family and all that domestic goodness. I also...want to do a lot of this before I have kids (if I have any, again that all depends on Getting Husband). Because once I have little kiddies running about, I want to focus on loving the living daylights out of them. I figure this works well with my ideal, since I don't want to have five or six kids, so starting a family when I'm older (i.e. thirties) is not terribly irrational. Good Lord, I have no idea what I'd do if I ever became a mom. Let's just not talk about it now. I can't even picture it.

Marriage, yes, I can imagine, but for some reason being a parent just kicks it up a few more unfathomable notches. Though it's interesting because I have a lot of friends who can easily picture themselves as mothers and are more excited to be a mom than to be a wife.

Who knows.

Anyway, that was fluffy and substantially girly enough, I think.

Also, I found a t-shirt design that was called "Music Snob" and I mentioned it to Amanda because she always calls me a huge music snob.

Her reply was: "So when are you going to get it?"
To which I said: "Hey, I've always been open to good music."

...

Which I guess kind of proved her point.

Seriously, swine flu, get with it. We've been over this before: I'm invincible. Remember when you followed me around Japan? Yeah, didn't work so well for you did it? If you couldn't get me there, you're not going to get me here. So just back off.

What is with the illness going around Olaf? Nearly everyone I know is sick, though not necessarily with swine flu. I had a rough night last night, tossed and turned until about 2am then had to crawl my way out of bed for an 8am class. But it's my Literary Studies course which is a BLAST so I was fine after I grabbed some tea. Once I have my morning tea I can accomplish anything. Working on a group project in that class centered around film studies, which has been great. Meeting with the group tomorrow to watch a movie (best homework ever) and flesh out our hour and twenty minute presentation/discussion thing.

Other than that, orchestra has been going well. We're playing all of Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique (OHGODMYARMS) which is a freaking hard piece. But it is so incredible to be a part of it. Also playing The Sorcerer's Apprentice THAT HAS THE MOST HARDCORE VIOLA PART EVER. It's all fine until you hit rehearsal number 44 or so, then it seems as if Dukas either had a seizure and scribbled crap all over the piece OR he got into a spat with a violist and said to himself: "You know what, screw this. I'm going to make them pay for that. *writes crap* JUST TRY AND PLAY THAT IN TEMPO. I DARE YOU". Its sooooo bad at one part. If you remember when Mickey's on the book in the water, there's the great cornet solo, and you can't hear what the heck violists are doing but my God. MYGOD. It's so hard. Basically we're playing a rhythm thats an eighth note, followed by two sixteenth notes connected to another eight note. The orchestra is in one, we're going at a fast tempo and we're going from the C-string to the A-string then back on those four notes. AND OF COURSE I'M THIRD CHAIR VIOLA FOR THAT PIECE, THANKS A LOT UNIVERSE. Yeah, right now I'm just watching the principle violist and copying what he's doing while still trying to play the right notes. Tough stuff, tough stuff. Yesterday's rehearsal was fun, though. There's that one part in the piece when the broomsticks come back to life that is played by a contrabassoon and we finally had one for the first time. That instrument is a beast. Oh my gosh, it's amazing.

Besides those two, we've got two tour soloists, one playing the third movement of the Walton Viola Concerto (KILL ME NOW I AM SO HAPPY YOU HAVE NO FREAKING IDEA. THAT IS THE PIECE THAT MAKES MY SOUL SING AND NO I AM NOT KIDDING. It's my dream to play that with an orchestra someday...YEAHRIGHT but one can dream, yes?) and the fourth movement of Bruch's Scottish Fantasie. Then we're playing the overture to The Thieving Magpie, a cute piece that I've played before back when I was in MYS. Ah, good memories involving my petite, firecracker New Yorker/Jewish conductor who threatened to kill us if we didn't play right. Aaand, not sure but I think we're playing two other pieces but I can't remember now. AND ALL THIS MUST BE PRISTINE BY THE TIME WE GO ON TOUR AT THE END OF OCTOBER. Lord sakes, preserve us.

Also: English department meeting tomorrow for grad school stuff and first Bio Club event on Thursday! Changed the English major that I'm completing and dealing with difficult issues concerning biology. I'm not really sure yet what to do...mainly because I just haven't been thinking about it. I don't know. We'll see. Met with the chair of the English department yesterday and discussed Oxford things, which was fun because the apparently entire english department loves shipping their kiddies off for studies abroad. The chair was so excited that I wanted to go for a full year, it was cute. Have to change my advisor but that too will come with time. For now I have to finish my Great Con essay and study for my first chemistry test.

Firstly: HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALEX! Can't wait to see you tomorrow and give your your PREZZIE!

<3^ pi x infinity

Had the worst studio class experience ever yesterday. It sucked. I sucked. I don't even want to talk about it. Let's just say that I remembered why I am not a music major. I was so upset that I came straight back to the dorm, shut myself up in the room, cried a bit while blaring Journey and Clapton (though it was not a binge, just necessary catharsis). Then watched Lethal Weapon 4 because that film has the most over-the-top explosion/b.a action scenes out of all of them. It's wonderful. Plus it has JET LI. Eventually I went up to Kristen's room to see if I could get a hug. But she was on the phone, so I came back down and continued watching my movie. However, a few minutes later she came to see me and told me a great story about her family that got me to laugh. What a great girl. Went to a chemistry session then went running for a while. After I ran my 2 miles I felt considerably better.

It's not the fact that I "messed up" in front of people that upset me - I don't care what they think because I am participating in music at Olaf purely because I love music, not because I expect a career or masters degree out of it. I do it for me, knowing full well what my limits and abilities are. But what I do get extremely upset about is when I can't play the way I hear the music inside (in my heart, I guess, for lack of a better cliche) and when I can't communicate. I don't know. It's hard to explain.

Oh and also, before anyone asks: I will tell you guys about that one thing I skyped/texted you about last week when we have our reunion girls night this Saturday! Huzzah! So excited to see you guys <3

Other than failure at viola performance I discovered something I am fairly adept at: chemistry. I was psyching myself out for it this summer but it turns out, hey, it's not so bad after all. It's actually...fun. Which is something I never thought I'd live long enough to say. Because chemistry is basically math. With a few science-y letters and symbols pinned on the ends as a means to distract you from its essential mathyness. So if we follow the pattern of the ontological argument:

1. Julia likes science.
2. Chemistry is a science.
3. Chemistry is also math.
4. Therefore, Julia likes math.

Point 4 is not something I feel comfortable admitting yet. But I have grudgingly admitted to myself and a few other people that I do indeed enjoy a good stoichiometric problem. I still like bio more though.

We get our first quizzes back today. Yikes. Ha, we'll see how closely the homework grades correlate with the quiz score.

This week was Olaf's homecoming week which meant FREE COTTON CANDY IN BUNTROCK COMMONSYESSSSSSSILOVECOTTONCANDYSOFREAKINGMUCH. I remember one year Valley Fair was selling cotton candy for 25 cents. That was a fattening summer. Hmm! I love cotton candy. It's so fluffy. Poor Justin was with me as I waited in line, attempting to eat a slushie as I hopped in place, brimming with excitement. A great many little things in life make me incredibly happy.

Had dinner on Wednesday with a girl in orchestra who went to Harris-Manchester last year and was able to glean a lot of great information from her. But. Oh. My. Gosh. WANTING TO GOOOOOOOO. SO BAD. I'm starting to get antsy here, not because I do not like it here (I LOVE OLAF) but just because I usually do not stay in a given place for more than two years. I do have insatiable wanderlust and it kicked into gear about a week ago. Hum, we'll see. We'll see, indeed.

Giving a speech in about an hour about a Middle English Incarnation and Crucifixion lyric. I'm fairly proud of it and I think it will go over well as long as I keep it together.

Also:

( What the EFFFFFFF )

Presently bumming around the dorm/picking at Martin Luther readings but decided to write until my English 221 class starts at 9. I feel as if my homework load increases exponentially as each semester comes and goes. I don't remember having this much work a year ago. Hum, been reading ahead in all my literature courses so as to save the weekend for CHEMISTRY: the most disappointing science of them all. We have a nomenclature quiz Monday and I'm aiming to do well. Finished the homework and have started memorizing the cations and anions. To be honest, once you memorize the names of all these ions and the rules to follow, nomenclature is fairly easy. It's just the memorization aspect that gets a little persnickety. Ah well.

I had a scone this morning. I love scones.

Realized our washer on first floor DOES NOT DO THE SPIN CYCLE. Do you know what that means? That means DRIPPING, SOPPING, WET ARTICLES OF CLOTHING. And wet clothes weigh a freaking ton.

So annoying.

Watched a documentary on slam poetry last night for my Literary Studies class and it was pretty sweet. Though it made me wish that I actually had skill at poetry writing because whenever I try to write poetry it ends in an epic fail. But the film made a whole bunch of teeny concept-fish suddenly burst out of the lake bottoms of my mind and I've got a few new ideas of stories and characters that I've been jotting down. Also writing something extremely stupid just for fun. I want to finish it before I study abroad next year, which reminds me of something I have yet to discuss with you all. Ya'll. You people.

I went to talk to the international studies program coordinator sometime last week, maybe it was Friday? I can't remember. I told her my plans and she basically scrapped the original Oxford plan I had in mind and gave me a new one: Harris-Manchester at the University of Oxford. She also gave me the University of East Anglia (about 3 miles outside of London) that is also very intriguing because they have an AMAZING creative writing program. As of now, my list of preferences goes thus: Harris-Manchester (OHMYGOD), University of East Anglia (AAAAHHH) and University of Aberdeen (in SCOTLAND). Paging through the brochures makes my heart palpitate quite a bit.

Quite. A. Bit.

If I got into Harris-Manchester (YEAHRIGHT) I'd probably die. Actually, if I got into any of my three choices, I'd probably die.

So this is why most people won't be seeing much of me this year (though I will make time for you girlies if you ever come to Northfield <3 ). I've been working my butt off from the get-go because I want to do well to feed my GPA good grades.

Can you imagine it: I COULD BE IN ENGLAND/SCOTLAND IN A YEAR FROM NOW. OH MY GOD.

One of my biggest dreams since I was freaking twelve years old could come true in a year. It's so close! I can fulfill it if I just DO it. That's it. If I just keep my focus and work hard, I can totally do this. I can't even wrap my mind around it. I'm just...GAH!

GAH!

And now back to nomenclatures, followed by my first viola beat-down session of the year. Hoo-rah.

I'll give it to you straight: wisdom teeth extraction surgery was one of the weirder experiences of my life. But I'm feeling fine now PAINKILLERS and my face is not God-awful terrible presently, though I can only open my mouth half an inch. Which is annoying when your stomach CRAVES SUSTENANCE and your mouth refuses to open wide enough to shovel said sustenance in. Been living off of mashed potatoes and applesauce. And cranapple juice. One amusing fact about myself I have discovered is that I crave food only when I cannot partake of it. Usually, I won't be tempted by the chocolate bar sitting inconspicuously on our counter. But now when there is no way in heck I could chew that thing. I. WANT. The same thing happens to me when I'm fasting. Which is why I don't let myself watch the Food Network while I fast because it eventually defeats the whole purpose of fasting when I sit there thinking "Once I am done with this I am SO digging into a bowl of nachos."

One thing I have realized is that I don't do sedatives well. I had the laughing gas first so -as the surgeon himself said- "You won't care what we do to you anymore". After which the anesthesiologist promptly jabbed me with the I.V. but she missed so she had to poke me again. 'KAY, I CARED ABOUT THAT THANKS. The funny part was that I don't remember blacking out, I sort of drifted. The last thing I remember is the surgeon asking what my major(s) are and why I chose them. I don't appreciate when dentists/any-medical-professional-working-in-the-mouth-area feel the need to ask questions that require either a complicated answer or a flat-out lie. I always get put in that situation, being an ENGLISH and BIOLOGY double-major and, naturally, everyone wants to know why I chose those two. So the guy asks me this and looks at me intently (or so I assume, I wasn't wearing any corrective eyewear at the time, though his face was turned towards me...or at least I assumed it was) expecting an answer. I oblige but at the same time I'm thinking Alright, I'm here getting inflated by laughing gas and I have I.V. in my arm. Do you really expect me to be coherent right now?. Next thing I know I see Melissa, Melanie, Ally, Amanda and Alex's faces spinning around in my head along with a few other people. Which was weird. But then I saw something even weirder while I was under and I'll reproduce how I described it to my mother as she drove me home. Imagine a still-drugged up Julia trying to describe this:

"So...picture a giant old-fashioned wagon wheel laying on its side. You know the ones with spokes and stuff? Yeah, but take off the rim and instead of spokes put huge bookcases filled with multi-coloured books. Now imagine someone somewhere whom you can't see suddenly setting it spinning, with all those books whizzing past reallyreally fast. It was awesome."

Yeah. That's what I saw.

Then I woke up and was carted off. Man, let me tell you there are fewer things as trippy as watching a room spin and double-up while you are not wearing your corrective eyewear.

Spent all of yesterday reading/dozing/watching funnies/musicking.

Then today a friend of the family came over and gave me the fancy film camera he promised to give me! It was so pretty that for a good half-hour I forgot how hideous I was/am and made him show me how to use it the correct way. Ah! I'm happy! I've always wanted a 'real' film camera but never expected to get one for a while!

Also found out that one of my English professors this year is also the coordinator of the Olaf-Oxford program which gives me a convenient foot in the door in regards to study abroad (if I decide to go with what my grandfather suggested instead of going to Aberdeen) as well as questions pertaining to their grad-school programs since I am aiming to go to grad school in another (English speaking) country.

Still reading/watching crap. Oh but I got 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' in audiobook form BECAUSE STEPHEN FRY IS THE NARRATOR! I love him so much! He is a comic genius and I absolutely adore his accent! So classic. Not a huge fan of audiobooks at all but I heard snippets of it and just had to get it. I'll admit that I only got it because of Mr. Fry. Though part of me wants to get the Bible in audiobook form. How obnoxious would that be? Haha! But only if it were read by SEAN CONNERY. No one else. Well, alright I'd also buy it if Patrick Stewart read it.

I really like The Killers right now. And I need more Neko Case.

Jim Gaffigan show with Amanda in a week!

I realized that I never wrote about the Gogol seminar/discussion I went to a week ago. Then I thought, well most people probably don't care all too much. But then I realized that this is my journal and I can talk about Russian literature whenever I darn well please.

HEY-OOOOO.

Overall consensus: AMAZINGBLOWYOURMINDFANTASTIC

So I go in and, first off, I didn't have to pay because I am a student (saved myself $5!) though they added in that I could pay 'if I wanted to donate'. Yeah, no. Love what you guys are doing and love the Russian Art Museum more than almost all the other art galleries we've got around here but I'm not made of money right now. Five bucks could buy me five tracks off of iTunes, you know. Or actually even less nowadays. How about you guys donate to my college fund? Once I amass myself a fortune, then I'll donate.

Went down to the seminar area and, I'll be honest with you, almost all seventy people there were over the age of sixty. The seating was arranged in a circular-discussion-esque fashion so we all sat facing each other. There was one friendly looking old guy in the crowd and I decided to sit next to him - he was decked out in a tweed suit with elbow patches, suspenders and everything! So cute! We were chatting for a bit when an employee from the museum suddenly approaches us and hands him a microphone. Turns out I sat next to the seminar facilitator. Also turns out he used to be a professor of Russian Language/Literature at Olaf a few years ago, though he's at the U of M right now. He began the seminar with a brief history on Gogol - so cool - then we dove right into discussion on 'The Overcoat'.

I opened up the discussion. First comment, first opinion, hell yeah. Julia ain't afraid to discuss.

(And when I offered to speak first, the professor remembered my name even though he talk to many other people for longer periods of time before the seminar began! I am unforgettable! Even by old folks!)

Being an Ole, I brought along a notebook and jotted notes down like cra-a-azy. I think I took a good five, six pages of notes and was holding in a 'squee' the entire time I was feverishly writing. Also contributed a good deal and brought up an observation that sent the entire room ablaze (figuratively) - I was proud of myself. I love Russian Literature so much (well, literature in general) and to get a better perspective on the style and images used was incredible. There was so much in this single short story that I missed the first few times around, but once understood gives the entire story a whole new colouring. The professor said that 'The Overcoat' has been dubbed (cleverly, I thought) a 'coat of many colours' - because there are so many interpretations on it. Oh man, it was so cool! But now I wonder how much of Dostoevsky's stories I'm actually understanding and what I'm missing. I've been using the notes I took on Gogol to see if they appear in any of Dostoevsky's works and that has been fun. Rereading 'The Brother's Karamazov' since I read that about two years ago and I had a hankering for some more Dostoevsky.

Anyway, to Melissa: next year you ARE going to one of these seminars with me because you MISSED OUT. Swear to God, even if I have to read you the book myself, you are going.

Wisdom is to be torn manually from my head tomorrow, though I don't really care all that much since it gives me a chance to be lazy. Legitimately lazy. Which...is kind of an oxymoron. Or at least, some sort of moron. I will be watching MST3K, A Bit of Fry and Laurie (LOVE) and reading allallall day. Also musicking.

You know, aside from the fact that I won't be able to eat for a while (or brush my teeth, GOOD LORD, that's going to be sickening), tomorrow's looking to be a very good day.

On another Journey/Eric Clapton binge brought about, for the first time in years, not because of crap going down in my life but things happening to my best friends.

The main way you can tell Julia is either a) severely distraught or b) severely pissed about something (besides the whole, you know, streaming tears of pain/rage or the spike in profanity usage) is when she listens to Journey and Eric Clapton exclusively for a substantial period of time. Swings between maybe three hours to a week. Got off of one about a week ago, listened to The Strokes but back on one now because I am so goddamn pissed that nothing else can COOL my SEETHING RAGE.

Fell asleep at around 3am probably, so right after the girls night and woke up at 10:30 to a text from my mom saying we're getting Chipotle for lunch. Was happy for a few minutes but then as I drifted in that stage when you're not quite fully awake, yet you decide to think about deep not-morning-type things, I remembered all that we talked about last night and I became so, so angry all over again. Jumped out of bed and slammed on Journey.

Goddamn it, anyway!

Maybe I'm reacting so violently now to all of this (it's not just one of you but what all you guys have been through that pisses me off so severely - you girls know who you are) because I have been cleared of my PTSD. I have the emotional energy to actually care as deeply and fully about you guys as I truly wanted to but just couldn't. And now having gone through a healing process - that was, for me, counseling - and seeing what it feels like to have gone through crap but being able to work through it and come out of it healthy, whole and happy. Kind of also became more abrasive and aggressive but that's a different story. Just knowing that a healing, a getting-better, is possible for all you guys - whatever it means for you and whatever way (I have no clue) - and that the depression/pain/haunting memories can end and that you can be free and happy. You really can.

And I have no idea what processes are necessary for anyone else or what would be good for anyone individually. I can only go off of what I learned through my experience and guess as best as I can from there. But I just have to say that I am here and I fucking love you guys so much - all of you. I don't care if you don't feel comfortable calling me whenever you need or if you'd rather not talk about certain things but I will tell you here point-blank: Regardless of what you tell me I pray my ass off for each of you. Don't care what your views are on God but, if nothing else, know that at any given moment there is one person who is thinking of/asking for positive things on your behalf.

You don't have to comment on this, but I just had to write. Firstly because I am SO GODDAMN ANGRY AT THE PEOPLE ON MY BACK-HAND LIST AND I NEEDED TO VENT. Swear to God, if I see one of them over the next few days (which I probably won't) but if I did...they would probably get more than a backhand. Some more than others. Also a good thing none of them go to or are around Olaf, else some extreme ass whooping would be going down. See, this is what I mean about being aggressive. I am just so done with idiotic people treating my friends and I like crap. So done with it. IT ENDS HERE.

A little word to the wise: when people say that they want to be left alone, just freaking leave them alone.

Apparently the paternal side of my family does not understand that simple concept.

Just. Gah. Go away! I don't have anything to say to you at this point in time! No, I don't feel BAD about not wanting to talk with you...of COURSE I'm not dropping out of college! What the heck!?...No, no for the love of GOD it's not about YOU, I'M JUST TRYING TO FIND MYSELF, IS THAT ALRIGHT WITH YOU. Don't take everything so PERSONALLY. What emails? What are you talking about? Maybe I haven't replied to any of them BECAUSE YOU HAVEN'T SENT ME ANY.

For the love of God, Jesus help me not to backhand anyone. Honestly! Sometimes people and situations are so wacky and unreal that you just laugh, because it's all so odd that you can't take it seriously. At all! Though I think said relative was high when they called since that's the only time they call.

Anyway.

Discovered a box of my dad's old CDs that I took - though I was a nice girl and left him his favorites. I bought my own copy of Eric Clapton's Pilgrim off of Amazon (Eh, I was buying textbooks anyway) that I could love forever so he could keep his. First Clapton CD I ever heard, probably around the time I was 5 or 6. Clapton and I go way back. So my Clapton collection grew from around 100 songs to over 200. And with each new track, Julia's heart swelled with great joy. Also took Pink Floyd.

Watched 'Highlander' yesterday. Enough said.

And my MST3K DVD came in the mail today! Along with a letter from Olaf's office of Multi-cultural Affairs. I forget that I boost the Asian demographic.

Also getting my butt handed to me by Berlioz and Bloch. Though that being said, I feel that the incoming freshman in the Olaf orchestra have easier excerpts than WE did last year. Good Lord, those were finger-busters. I think I died at one point. Berlioz is tough but, personally, I thought the Brahms was worse. Sooo excited for orchestra again!

Finished Everything is Illuminated - crazygood book. Go and partake. Immediately.

Currently reading Murakami's After the Quake.

An aside: the sci-fi lover in me really wants to see 'District 9'.

Another aside: If you haven't seen Russell Peter's stand-up stuff, go check him out. He's hilarious.

Julia: So what does your fortune cookie say?
Megan: *pulls it out* AAAAAAH D8 *shows blank slip*
Julia: OH MY GOD.
Megan: Just kidding! *flips slip over*

-Later that same evening-

Megan: Somedays, all I want to do is pull on a pair of jeans and a shirt, but then I think 'Would Lady Gaga settle for this? NO. She would look FABULOUS.' and then I make an outfit, do the face and put on the heels.

---

Alex: OH!
The rest of us: What happened?
Alex: My toenail just fell off!
Melanie: God, Alexandra, GET VITAMINS.
Ally: I don't think that's supposed to happen...

---

After watching New in Town:

Melissa: You know, this could make a good drinking game. Every time they say 'tapioca' we'd take a shot.
Melanie: Oh God, we'd be unconscious after like five minutes.

---

Caribou Coffee Guy: Hey, I haven't seen you two in a while! Where've you been?
Mom: Starbucks.

---



And about a million other funny little conversations dappling the summer.

Watched MST3K: The Movie last night. Yes, they made a MOVIE that went to THEATRES. It was pretty good, though admittedly nothing compares to 'The Final Sacrifice' which - were you to watch it - would enable you to automatically understand roughly 28% of what Julia says. I love that show. So much. And did I mention that I caved in and bought that episode on DVD? Hey, it was cheap.

In other news: the household has grown decidedly Japanese with the arrival of the patriarch, giving Julia much joy. So much good food! So much Japanese being spoken!

Reading Everything is Illuminated and, somehow or other, finding myself listening to a great deal of Guns N' Roses. Neither of which are terribly Japanese.

Also: had to look up a 'concrete' definition of hipster on Urban Dictionary after being called one TWICE in a SINGLE DAY. I mean, I had a vague, nebulous idea of what a hipster was but no actual 'definition' - as if Urban Dictionary could be considered a legitimate dictionary. 'Kay. First of all, I don't wear ironic t-shirts. I hate ironic t-shirts. Secondly, alright yes, I mainly listen to indie/alternative music, talk about music/books/movies, wear skinny jeans, and yes I drink chai very often. But I wash my hair often (AND it's naturally coloured) and shower daily! I'M NOT A HIPSTER. I don't WANT to be one!

First I was called a hippy, now a hipster. Why am I incorrectly being labeled?!

Been looking up ovarian cyst info for hours, trying to figure out what's going to happen to my mama since we got results from the CT scan today. Gah, it goes from "Oh, what this? Psh, it'll be fine. NBD, my friends, NBD." to "If this is not treated, it will be FATAL. Also, it is EXTREMELY PAINFUL. So if you don't DIE from the cyst, the pain WILL MAKE YOU WANT TO DIE."

WHAT THE F.

Worryworryworry. I know it doesn't help to, but I can't help it.

Though Grandpa brought me to Barnes & Noble's and bought me books, which took my mind off of mama for a while. We also talked about my study abroad plans - he wants me to look into going to Oxford now, not just Aberdeen. He suggests that by going to Oxford for one year, it'll be easier for me to get in for grad school. Hum, we'll see. Of course, I'd be ecstatic either way! But oh my, to go to England or Scotland in a year for a year. Wow.

It's just. Gah.

Worryworryworryworry...

Had a dentist appointment and it turns out I only have THREE wisdom teeth! Which may or may not explain something. Laughed at my younger brother who had four but then remembered that my dental hygienist said some people have up to six. Holy heck. So I have to call tomorrow and schedule a day in which I get wisdom ripped out of my head. Wonderful. Mashed potatoes for a week! Hoo-rah.

Still paging through emotions and addressing them as they come up. It's been kind of confusing because I'm not exactly sure how I want to deal with the last piece of the puzzle. Part of me is wondering whether talking about it would be good (because I like to get crap done for crying out loud) or whether it would make any difference at all. At this point I feel as if it wouldn't do any good. Anything I'd say would either be disregarded or brushed aside and I'm not really in the mood to be treated poorly again. Obviously, no action would be taken for quite a while because I have a life (and I don't want to contact people until I can say to them and myself that I do fully forgive them). And plus my life does not revolve around this issue, at all. Though it would be nice to just have everything over with. I suppose it just felt good to talk to Person A and now I want to feel the same about everything else, though Person A is much different from the other individual, so our conversation went unsurprisingly well. She's a sweetie-pie.

Though I forgot to mention one interesting point that came up in our conversation, in which she said that she very much underestimated the strength of my character. Let me take a moment to say as I did to her that there is very little anyone can say to me about anything that would take me by surprise. Underestimation of Julia as a whole has been an ongoing theme in my life ever since I can remember. It has been with friends, family, friends-of-the-family, etc. So to have it brought up again was more anticlimactic than probably was anticipated. I have NO idea why or what I do to make people see me in this way. Understandably, I have moments of intense weakness, I breakdown but at the end of the day, few things really rock my world. Except when I found out Vader was Luke's father. That was rough. And don't even get me started on how I felt when Vader turned out to be a creepy scarred white guy with a high, wheezy voice. I was NOT OKAY about that for about a week. And I get over things fairly quickly. But just. I don't get it. Yes, it bugs me because I don't understand it but at the same time I'm usually oblivious to it until it comes up and instead I choose to bop around through life being as Julia as possible.

Huh.

Well, it'll figure itself out one way or another. I think it just nags at my mind because I don't like circumventing problems/issues, instead I like the heads on approach.

Also, I highlyhighly recommend The Go-Betweens' Bellavista Terrace album. Which I have been consuming non-stop since Monday. It's reallyreally good.

And working through two (count them: TWO!) Scientific American issues while reading Gogol's The Overcoat. As well as viola. Much viola is being had.

Apropos of absolutely nothing of what was written an hour ago: turns out my mom may have cancer. We won't know until August. From what the doctor tells us, it isn't looking good.

Here, Julia would like to take a moment to politely invite the world, life and the forces working toward her family's demise to go fuck themselves. As an aside she also would like to inform the aforementioned that she is not one to be fucked with and that she most certainly can take the heat, should the aforementioned wish to bring it.

She would like to remind the aforementioned that she has a secure group of friends (something she did not have until a few weeks ago - they know who they are) and a counselor.

In conclusion, she wishes to say: Bring the heat.

As well as a phrase by the ineffable Yo La Tengo: I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass.