elfination

I’m lonely. I crave companionship.

At the moment, I want to sit somewhere comfortable, listening to someone talk about … something. I want to listen to a talk about chemical engineering, or a thesis presentation about artificially-mutated nematodes, or maybe just go to a lecture for a class I’m not taking and listen to the professor. I want to be comfortable, and I want to be allowed to build molecular models while I do it, or draw a picture, or work on some beads, or… do something similarly creative with my hands. I want there to be a stream of potentially useful information (and let’s face it, I’m a packrat, just about anything is potentially useful in my book) around me, while I process my own thoughts - picking out useful pieces from the stream to file away, maybe asking questions if it’s VERY novel. I find that working with my hands while learning enables me to process information in ways that surprise even me.

In short… I want someone to read to me while I play with my toys.

Is it so wrong to have this desire, as an adult? Is it so unusual? I don’t want a TV to blast randomness at me, I want there to be some sort of more personal interaction… but the “interaction” needn’t be complex. I just want to be in the presence of someone who has information to give me.

I would be happy to listen to a discussion of lichens from New Zealand that are used to produce a blue wool dye. Or maybe the nuances of plasma physics. Or the evolution of CAULIFLOWER… I don’t care. Just… SOMETHING.

But it’s not polite to take up space in a classroom where you’re not supposed to be. It’s not polite to draw pictures while your professor talks. It’s rude to build models in a thesis discussion. YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO PAY ATTENTION! Oh, but I am… really… I am…

And so, I’m alone with my computer, which is something that I can interact with. Something that requires fine manual movements (typing)… but also something that requires 100% of my attention, something that won’t play FOR me… something that will only play WITH me. It has music, I’ve heard the songs before. It takes so much time to find something to listen to, that just the process of settling down and getting to that point is enough to knock me out of the mood…. and it’s not a PERSON, it’s a THING. Yes, it’s a source of constant novelty, but it only does that with direct input from me… and it has zero appreciation for whatever my manual dexterity might create during our interaction.

I don’t want to sit around watching someone else watch TV. I don’t want my head to be filled with dramatic garbage… I just want a story, from someone who cares whether I exist or not.

I miss Patton, my botany professor from Tulsa. He was often good for this, and he understood my need to create something with my hands while listening to him.

I’m lonely, and I see no real way out of it.

Play the song “Bend and break” by Keane right after playing the song “I’ve Been Waiting” by Matthew Sweet.

The pathology here is that my brain will conjure up every memory of every wonderful thing about first meeting Barrett (given the Matthew Sweet song), and then completely squash it with the Keane song, realizing he’ll never be there in the morning for me, ever again. This will cause a sudden collapse of all pieces of my psyche into a microsingularity.

Or, at least, I really wish it would, because this hurts so fucking bad.

Bend and Break:

When you, when you forget your name
When old faces all look the same
Meet me in the morning when you wake up
Meet me in the morning then you’ll wake up
If only I don’t bend and break
I’ll meet you on the other side, I’ll meet you in the light
If only I don’t suffocate, I’ll meet you in the morning when you wake

Lovesick bitter and hardened heart
Aching waiting for night waiting for life to start
Meet me in the morning when you wake up
Meet me in the morning then you’ll wake up

If only I don’t bend and break
I’ll meet you on the other side, I’ll meet you in the light
If only I don’t suffocate, I’ll meet you in the morning when you wake

If only I don’t bend and break
I’ll meet you on the other side, I’ll meet you in the light
If only I don’t suffocate, I’ll meet you in the morning when you wake

I’ll meet you on the other side, I’ll meet you in the light
If only I don’t suffocate, I’ll meet you in the morning when you wake

I miss Dr. Brownlee…. but Dr. Hagood seems quite capable.

Sinus Surgery #4 was successful (far as I am led to understand…) and I’m now in that recovery period…. Tomorrow I’m gonna hurt like hell from the anesthetic wearing-off… but tonight, it’s alllll about the percosets.

g’night!

But, after hearing many people weigh in on “Fitting Punishment for Dr. Amy Bishop”, I discussed this with my friend Shyla (a classmate from TCC and NSU in Oklahoma).

OUR $.02:

Exhaustive studies on her brain chemistry. Probes, PET scans, fMRI scans, everything. Dr. Bishop, you harmed biologists who were studying these things; congratulations, you’re the new test subject. We won’t hurt you, we just want you to look at these pictures while we measure your neurotransmitter levels. Thanks. Again, please. And we’ll consult her for her opinions…

That brain won’t go to complete waste as most people seem to think. We’ll learn from her. We’ll explore. We’ll patent something based on our results and use the proceeds to fund college for her four children. (And to support the families of those who were killed and injured by her attacks.)

Maybe we could keep her in the vivarium.

–Em

All students are safe and sound. I was not on campus at the time of the shooting.

I spent the night at a friend’s house last night, because I couldn’t get back on campus.

Read more: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/14/us/14alabama.html

http://www.waaytv.com/Global/story.asp?S=11981259

Also of interest: http://www.boston.com/news/local/breaking_news/2010/02/professor_accus.html

Especially when what you WANT to focus on isn’t what’s presenting as a more emergent problem.

I’m completely exhausted… I’ve had very little sleep lately, an organic chemistry exam on Thursday at 4pm, and I have had to move out of Barrett’s apartment and into a room on campus.

The upside is that my housing is now walking distance from classes. There are actually a lot of up-sides.

The major downside is that my change in environment is because Barrett’s had enough of me.

So… I moved, and am wracked with anxiety about all sorts of things (both rational and irrational). KB cannot live with me here. Lots of stuff is still at Barrett’s apartment. Barrett doesn’t call me “Sweetie” or “Elfy” anymore, he calls me “Emily”. When we talk at all. I’m within five miles of him and only seeing him briefly to let me into the apartment to get more of my stuff.

I’m a disaster… and it’s REALLY hard to focus on what NEEDS to be done for school.

On the plus side, I have plenty of psychotropic prescription drugs. I’m on an antidepressant which is working very well (until about 10PM when it starts to wear off…. ) I take adderall (YAY!) and Buspar (an anti-anxiety drug). The Adderall and Buspar are doing good things for me, though I’m still prone to randomly crying at stray thoughts.

I’m back to doing the “college thing”, but without the comfort/security of a permanent address to return to in the summer, and without family that I can return to if I choose. The only family I have in Alabama is Barrett… and he’s removing himself from that status. I’m alone here, lost as hell, and all I can do is hope I can focus enough to NOT THINK ABOUT IT.

I’m going to take a hot shower and get some sleep.

So I was at work, doing my thing, selling pet food. A very familiar-looking woman came up to me. “EMILY!! HI!! How are you!?!” I smiled brightly. “Doing great, how are you doing?” She smiled too, clearly thrilled to see me.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” I said, “But… where do I know you from?”

“JAIL!” she squealed REALLY LOUD, laughing.

One of the cashiers was walking past. “Jail, really?” he said, looking at us both.

*facepalm* Okay, great. How about next time we broadcast it over the store’s loudspeakers? Even better.

Fuckin’ EH.

The rest of the day has been pretty much consistent fail no matter what. I may be on antidepressants, but some days I just sincerely wish I owned a gun. It started with horrible dreams last night (about Barrett, his mom, me being a throw-away person… so much anguish and betrayal and abandonment all rolled up into one heart-wrenching dream sequence…) I got to work and did my best but it all started coming back to me… I took a few minutes to sit in the breakroom and cry from all the hurt that my own brain could inflict on me. Hurt that doesn’t really seem THAT far off, actually.

Then add Christy’s super-loud proclamation to the world… (She was totally too loud when I knew her before, too, she got on every last nerve in my body…) That’s just fucking great. I feel like hell, and it’s barely 5pm. And I have homework to do.

I’m going to try to study.

Being a molecular biology student really can be summed up in two words: “Great toys”.

1/31/2010: UPDATE: Thinkgeek.com has posted this picture as a “customer action shot“!! WOO!

–Em

Hi there, Jen!! Long time no see!!

I still have buttloads of the craft stuff you gave me, though much of it got sold at yardsale… and I donated all the oil-paints to Merrimack High School before we left NH. I’ve actually used a lot of the paper scraps in collages… And a lot of the cloth still exists in boxes. Basically I weeded out the stuff that *I* would be inclined to use myself… and the rest, well… it’s off somewhere else.

I’m still totally overloaded with craft stuff, of course. I’m sure your collection has re-grown, too.

It’s good to hear that you’re doing well. Keep in touch.

Momzilla and Stephen drove through Huntsville on the way home from a trip through Florida. They took me to lunch at Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse (yum!) and both gave me advice.

They both say wholeheartedly that school is the right path for me to be traveling. It’s simply the most important thing I can do right now.

Regarding the shards of marriage still remaining, Stephen said, “Don’t miss any opportunity to try to repair what’s there.” This is sage wisdom, and I appreciate it.

My mom had lots of advice on many topics, but the most salient was “Don’t get knocked up by a black guy.”

I’ll do my best, thanks.

–Em