If you haven't noticed, a general theme for my most recent posts have been about change. I've written before the change has happened, while it has been going on, and now I will conclude.
I started nursing school a week and a half ago. It's unlike anything I've ever experienced. I was worried that the 5-hour classes each day would not be very good for my self-diagnosed ADD, but so far I have been very wrong. Even though I have taken a good amount of these classes already, I still feel fulfilled and only slightly bored. I've already befriended people that I ordinarily would have walked right on past or judged severely or run the opposite way screaming (for those of you who I have talked to one-on-one, you know what I'm talking about). I'm already feeling like I'm becoming more of an adult. I'm being exposed to many different kinds of people in my small class of 25: single mothers, disabled young women, born-agains, mothers of disabled children, people going through gender changes, and more tattoos than I can count. While there are a few people who think they are the shit because they have some more hospital experience than most of us, we mostly accept each other for who we are. After all, we're in the same boat, and in 15 months, we'll all be going after the same jobs and making the same salaries and working with the same kinds of people.
Aside from the social aspect (which there really isn't much of), so far I'm doing well in my classes. I find myself almost sad when school lets out. It's fun to have something to do. Speaking of, I'm back to work at Maggiano's. It's good to be sticking around there for awhile instead of leaving after a few weeks to go back to school. I'm still getting myself settled at home. Most of my unpacking still hasn't been done (hey! I'm a busy girl!) and John hasn't even graduated yet, but I think I'm off to an OK start.
I hope I can keep this momentum going for 15 months, but my class has adopted the idea that we will all pass together or fail together, which really encourages me. It's kind of a strange idea for me after 4 years of every-man-for-himself at Longwood, not to mention the 12 years prior. It's good to feel a part of a team. What could be better? A team of people who want to help each other succeed at helping people in the future.
In other news:
Like I mentioned, John's graduation is coming up on Sunday followed by a delightful meal with his family. Next, John's Mamaw's 85th birthday cocktail party in a couple weeks. Later in June, a delightful long beach weekend with, you guessed it, John.
My sister found a wedding dress, and we're in the process of looking for my maid of honor dress.
'Til next time, bloggers.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
How do you measure, measure 4 years?
So I have many other friends who I'm stealing this idea from, and Senior Week has made me bored enough to attempt to sit down and write this. So I suppose I just wanted to reflect on the last 4 years.
Freshman year:
I did not want to go to Longwood. I wanted to go to JMU, but I slacked off too much in high school and they didn't want me. I met my roommate, Katie, before we got to school, and she was nice enough. But I was going to miss my friends from home. I had a very good group of friends, and we did everything together. And now we were all going to different schools. Just about the only thing I was excited about was moving out of my parents' house so I could be treated like an adult for the first time. So my goal was to work hard and make good grades so I could transfer. I decided on being a bio major because I figured being a nurse would be cool and this was a good first step. I didn't think I would be a bio major for long, and I was pretty sure I was going to switch to start becoming a teacher. I had a friend from high school, Maggie, who also went to Longwood, so I kind of glued myself to her the first day or two. Back then, I wasn't very good at meeting people. Maggie and I met Lizzie and Emily in the dining hall of all places. For whatever reason Lizzie just asked Maggie if she wanted to sit with her, so we did. And from then on the four of us were friends. Maggie had this girl who lived across the hall from her named Megan. She quickly joined our little "group" and the 5 of us became best friends just like that. School was much harder than I thought it would be. I was really struggling in my bio classes, and I had this dick of an English teacher. While I was warming up to Longwood, I was still planning on transferring.
Second semester was much different than first semester. Megan moved into my room (Frazer 849) after Katie moved out to live with her new pledge sister. Emily transferred. Maggie had a falling out with Megan and I, and Lizzie made new friends. Megan and I became best friends, and it was fun. We drank Aristocrat vodka on Wednesdays (or whenever, really) and watched Food Network all the time. We played Wii Bowling constantly. My grades slipped when I gave up on transferring after no one wanted to accept me. That semester was really good for me. I learned how to have fun -- a lot of fun -- at Longwood. Unfortunately, my grades suffered so much that I didn't pass Chemistry.
That summer, I work at O'Charley's as a server. It's not the best part of time. I don't make good tips. Made some friends, but mostly hung out with my high school friends.
Sophomore year:
I'm an RA in Frazer. Since I had given up on transferring, I thought making more friends and getting involved would make my college experience that much enjoyable. I really liked the Frazer staff, especially Rob and Candice. I also have my first boyfriend ever. His name is John and he was in that tight group of friends from high school. After a dramatic freshman year of him not knowing whether we should stay friends or date, we're finally together, but in a long distance relationship when neither of us had cars. Being an RA took a lot of time, but it didn't affect my school work. John was a great influence and always encouraged me to study. We saw each other once every few weeks when we would both go home or maybe one of us would borrow a car from our respective parents, but somehow we made it until second semester when I finally got my own car. Megan lived in Lancer Park with some girls she hardly knew. I went over and cooked dinner with her sometimes. She also got a new boyfriend, so we certainly didn't see each other as much, but we went to d-hall together fairly regularly and stayed close. My grades were up. Yay.
Second semester was more of the same. I re-took that Chemistry class and got a B. Good for me! I have a car now, so I'm driving to John. The distance is much easier knowing that I can drive to him whenever I need to, and I've really fallen for him at this point. By the end of the semester I'm wondering that if we can make it through that, what else can we do?
I'm excited that John is in Richmond for the summer so we can finally have some time to hang out. I'm working full-time at a place called Pulmonary Associates of Richmond doing patients' vitals. I love it. But I hate that at night, I'm taking Organic Chemistry classes. They're hard as shit, and I can't concentrate for that long, especially after a full day of work. I pass the classes that I take by the skin of my teeth.... and I really mean that. And I fulfill my internship goal and make a boatload of money by working at PAR. I really liked the ladies that I worked with there, except for Janet.
Junior Year:
I'm living in the Landings (SW 409), and I love it. I have Megan as a roommate again. I'm also living with Raquel, Megan's friend from high school, and also Michele, a cute blonde that we just scooped up to fill our last room. We were all pretty close that first semester. I am still a bio major, despite everything. At this point, it's the only thing on my mind, and I'm working my ass off to get decent grades. I'm not an RA anymore, thank goodness. A year of it was fine, but I didn't want to have to worry about those responsibilities again. John has a car now. Phew.
Second semester, I start working at Lancer Line by calling alumni and begging for money. It's OK, and it gives me some cash. My apartment was entertained by Naked Girl, and I'm still in contact with my RA friends, even though Candice is about to graduate. I'm still dating John. I took my final Organic Chemistry class. I barely passed. But I passed. Thank God.
In the summer, I work at PAR at the front desk for the first half. I become close with my co-worker, Jessica. I really liked the front desk, but vitals were fine too. John is in DC for the summer working for Naval Intelligence. It sucks that he's far away, but I'm about to be much farther, because I'm about to study abroad in La Rochelle, France. I've written in other blogs that I can't really explain everything that happened in France (it would take hours) or explain how it changed me as a person. But I met lifelong friends who are halfway across the world. I was the most independent I have ever been. I felt as if I had been there my whole life, and it was home. At the end of my studying experience, John met me in Paris and we traveled around France for a week. It was spectacular and we had so much fun together. It was hard to say goodbye to him when the new semester started.
Senior Year:
This is it. I wasn't entirely sure I was going to graduate since I had Biochemistry standing in my way (which is rumored to be much more difficult than Organic Chemistry). Turns out by changing my course catalog I was able to avoid that hurdle. And I was on my way to that diploma. I'm still living in the same place with the same roommates. I'm still working for Lancer Line, but now I'm really good at it. I'm also 21 now, so I'm enjoying Mulligan's, the only bar in Farmville. Megan and I would go there some Thursdays and make friends that would only last that night, but it was still fun. I'm starting to realize at this point that I pretty much just work and do school stuff, and I wish I had something else to do. I decide it's too late to get involved in anything else, and leave it alone.
Second semester, I really feel like I'm in the home stretch. I'm only taking 9 credits, but they're the hardest 9 credits I've ever taken. Same roommates. Same boyfriend. I've been promoted at work to a supervisor. Tiny pay increase. More fun in general. I see a flyer in the post office one day for RENT auditions. I keep going back and forth on whether to audition or not before being convinced by everyone I know to just go for it. So I do. I make it. I'm Maureen. Hooray! Now I think I was one of the only people in the cast who did not know a single person tied to the theatre, so I was a bit intimidated. I made great friends though. The cast became really close, and I'm so glad I did this. While it took a lot of time away from school work and other things, it was beyond worth it. The perfect ending to college. These memories I will take with me forever.
So now I've finished senior year. I'm graduating in 4 days, and then immediately starting nursing school.
The future:
Nursing school for 15 months. Full time. M-F 8:30-4:30. That's going to suck.
Living at home. Not going to be the best but at least it keeps the amount of my loans down significantly. John decided to get a job in Richmond so we could be together. Finally no more distance after 3 years of it.
Regrets of the last 4 years:
I can't really say that I have any. I wish that I hadn't had to work so damn hard in school to "get by," but at least I got by at all, and a biology degree will definitely help me in the long run.
Favorite moments:
Spontaneous bikini/coconut party in 849 with Megan
Stalking out Naked Girl with the 409 roommates
Anything and everything having to do with RENT
Sunday brunches in d-hall and giggling about the weekend
Watching She's the Man and Ellen
Having friends visit
Learning that I will, in fact, graduate... and so will my friends
I came into college not very excited to be here, but I don't think any other school could have given me what Longwood has given me. I went from trying to transfer to being an RA to talking people into giving money to this institution because they should believe in Longwood as much as I do. It will be sad to leave, but no one can take these memories from me.
Freshman year:
I did not want to go to Longwood. I wanted to go to JMU, but I slacked off too much in high school and they didn't want me. I met my roommate, Katie, before we got to school, and she was nice enough. But I was going to miss my friends from home. I had a very good group of friends, and we did everything together. And now we were all going to different schools. Just about the only thing I was excited about was moving out of my parents' house so I could be treated like an adult for the first time. So my goal was to work hard and make good grades so I could transfer. I decided on being a bio major because I figured being a nurse would be cool and this was a good first step. I didn't think I would be a bio major for long, and I was pretty sure I was going to switch to start becoming a teacher. I had a friend from high school, Maggie, who also went to Longwood, so I kind of glued myself to her the first day or two. Back then, I wasn't very good at meeting people. Maggie and I met Lizzie and Emily in the dining hall of all places. For whatever reason Lizzie just asked Maggie if she wanted to sit with her, so we did. And from then on the four of us were friends. Maggie had this girl who lived across the hall from her named Megan. She quickly joined our little "group" and the 5 of us became best friends just like that. School was much harder than I thought it would be. I was really struggling in my bio classes, and I had this dick of an English teacher. While I was warming up to Longwood, I was still planning on transferring.
Second semester was much different than first semester. Megan moved into my room (Frazer 849) after Katie moved out to live with her new pledge sister. Emily transferred. Maggie had a falling out with Megan and I, and Lizzie made new friends. Megan and I became best friends, and it was fun. We drank Aristocrat vodka on Wednesdays (or whenever, really) and watched Food Network all the time. We played Wii Bowling constantly. My grades slipped when I gave up on transferring after no one wanted to accept me. That semester was really good for me. I learned how to have fun -- a lot of fun -- at Longwood. Unfortunately, my grades suffered so much that I didn't pass Chemistry.
That summer, I work at O'Charley's as a server. It's not the best part of time. I don't make good tips. Made some friends, but mostly hung out with my high school friends.
Sophomore year:
I'm an RA in Frazer. Since I had given up on transferring, I thought making more friends and getting involved would make my college experience that much enjoyable. I really liked the Frazer staff, especially Rob and Candice. I also have my first boyfriend ever. His name is John and he was in that tight group of friends from high school. After a dramatic freshman year of him not knowing whether we should stay friends or date, we're finally together, but in a long distance relationship when neither of us had cars. Being an RA took a lot of time, but it didn't affect my school work. John was a great influence and always encouraged me to study. We saw each other once every few weeks when we would both go home or maybe one of us would borrow a car from our respective parents, but somehow we made it until second semester when I finally got my own car. Megan lived in Lancer Park with some girls she hardly knew. I went over and cooked dinner with her sometimes. She also got a new boyfriend, so we certainly didn't see each other as much, but we went to d-hall together fairly regularly and stayed close. My grades were up. Yay.
Second semester was more of the same. I re-took that Chemistry class and got a B. Good for me! I have a car now, so I'm driving to John. The distance is much easier knowing that I can drive to him whenever I need to, and I've really fallen for him at this point. By the end of the semester I'm wondering that if we can make it through that, what else can we do?
I'm excited that John is in Richmond for the summer so we can finally have some time to hang out. I'm working full-time at a place called Pulmonary Associates of Richmond doing patients' vitals. I love it. But I hate that at night, I'm taking Organic Chemistry classes. They're hard as shit, and I can't concentrate for that long, especially after a full day of work. I pass the classes that I take by the skin of my teeth.... and I really mean that. And I fulfill my internship goal and make a boatload of money by working at PAR. I really liked the ladies that I worked with there, except for Janet.
Junior Year:
I'm living in the Landings (SW 409), and I love it. I have Megan as a roommate again. I'm also living with Raquel, Megan's friend from high school, and also Michele, a cute blonde that we just scooped up to fill our last room. We were all pretty close that first semester. I am still a bio major, despite everything. At this point, it's the only thing on my mind, and I'm working my ass off to get decent grades. I'm not an RA anymore, thank goodness. A year of it was fine, but I didn't want to have to worry about those responsibilities again. John has a car now. Phew.
Second semester, I start working at Lancer Line by calling alumni and begging for money. It's OK, and it gives me some cash. My apartment was entertained by Naked Girl, and I'm still in contact with my RA friends, even though Candice is about to graduate. I'm still dating John. I took my final Organic Chemistry class. I barely passed. But I passed. Thank God.
In the summer, I work at PAR at the front desk for the first half. I become close with my co-worker, Jessica. I really liked the front desk, but vitals were fine too. John is in DC for the summer working for Naval Intelligence. It sucks that he's far away, but I'm about to be much farther, because I'm about to study abroad in La Rochelle, France. I've written in other blogs that I can't really explain everything that happened in France (it would take hours) or explain how it changed me as a person. But I met lifelong friends who are halfway across the world. I was the most independent I have ever been. I felt as if I had been there my whole life, and it was home. At the end of my studying experience, John met me in Paris and we traveled around France for a week. It was spectacular and we had so much fun together. It was hard to say goodbye to him when the new semester started.
Senior Year:
This is it. I wasn't entirely sure I was going to graduate since I had Biochemistry standing in my way (which is rumored to be much more difficult than Organic Chemistry). Turns out by changing my course catalog I was able to avoid that hurdle. And I was on my way to that diploma. I'm still living in the same place with the same roommates. I'm still working for Lancer Line, but now I'm really good at it. I'm also 21 now, so I'm enjoying Mulligan's, the only bar in Farmville. Megan and I would go there some Thursdays and make friends that would only last that night, but it was still fun. I'm starting to realize at this point that I pretty much just work and do school stuff, and I wish I had something else to do. I decide it's too late to get involved in anything else, and leave it alone.
Second semester, I really feel like I'm in the home stretch. I'm only taking 9 credits, but they're the hardest 9 credits I've ever taken. Same roommates. Same boyfriend. I've been promoted at work to a supervisor. Tiny pay increase. More fun in general. I see a flyer in the post office one day for RENT auditions. I keep going back and forth on whether to audition or not before being convinced by everyone I know to just go for it. So I do. I make it. I'm Maureen. Hooray! Now I think I was one of the only people in the cast who did not know a single person tied to the theatre, so I was a bit intimidated. I made great friends though. The cast became really close, and I'm so glad I did this. While it took a lot of time away from school work and other things, it was beyond worth it. The perfect ending to college. These memories I will take with me forever.
So now I've finished senior year. I'm graduating in 4 days, and then immediately starting nursing school.
The future:
Nursing school for 15 months. Full time. M-F 8:30-4:30. That's going to suck.
Living at home. Not going to be the best but at least it keeps the amount of my loans down significantly. John decided to get a job in Richmond so we could be together. Finally no more distance after 3 years of it.
Regrets of the last 4 years:
I can't really say that I have any. I wish that I hadn't had to work so damn hard in school to "get by," but at least I got by at all, and a biology degree will definitely help me in the long run.
Favorite moments:
Spontaneous bikini/coconut party in 849 with Megan
Stalking out Naked Girl with the 409 roommates
Anything and everything having to do with RENT
Sunday brunches in d-hall and giggling about the weekend
Watching She's the Man and Ellen
Having friends visit
Learning that I will, in fact, graduate... and so will my friends
I came into college not very excited to be here, but I don't think any other school could have given me what Longwood has given me. I went from trying to transfer to being an RA to talking people into giving money to this institution because they should believe in Longwood as much as I do. It will be sad to leave, but no one can take these memories from me.
Monday, May 3, 2010
The end/The beginning
So I graduate in 5 days, and then 2 days later I start nursing school for 15 months. I keep waiting for all of this to sink in. Maybe it will be when I've moved out of my apartment. Maybe it will be when I walk across the graduation stage. Or maybe it will be when I take my first test of nursing school. For France, it was the first morning that I woke up in La Rochelle, so I suppose maybe this will be similar. I'm really excited about nursing school, mostly because I feel ready to be a real adult by living on my own and working. I love working, and I don't really like school much. Learning new things is great, but it's the sitting in class all day and studying and tests that I hate. I wish I just knew everything automatically. That would be pretty cool. Then I probably wouldn't be a nurse, I would just go on Jeopardy every day for the rest of my life and be a bazillionaire. But I digress....
I'm going to miss a lot about Longwood. I'm for sure going to miss my apartment, walking everywhere, a lot of my teachers, and the friends that I've made. I literally can't believe I'm this old. I may have said this before, but I just can't view myself as older than about 16 years old. Maybe when I move out of my parents' house and pay big girl bills like for insurance and my cell phone I'll feel more adult.
A bachelor's degree is definitely something to be proud of, especially when I've gotten it in 4 years (which is harder for Longwood students than you would think), especially when its a biology degree. I can't believe I'm going off for more school and then maybe even more to go from RN to MSN. Considering I was one of those people right out of high school who was dreading 4 more years of classes in college, this is quite a change. I suppose that I'd rather do the damn thing and be happy and stable in my job the rest of my life than not.
The point is, while I still can't picture myself as older than 16, I have certainly changed. I guess the change was so gradual that I couldn't really notice it until a milestone such as this. It's funny. 10 years from now, I'll think that I was SO immature at 22.
So here I am... on a bridge between being an adult and a child. It sure feels like I've been here awhile, but I'm that much closer to crossing it. I absolutely can't wait. I believe that this is the beginning of the end of that bridge.
I'm going to miss a lot about Longwood. I'm for sure going to miss my apartment, walking everywhere, a lot of my teachers, and the friends that I've made. I literally can't believe I'm this old. I may have said this before, but I just can't view myself as older than about 16 years old. Maybe when I move out of my parents' house and pay big girl bills like for insurance and my cell phone I'll feel more adult.
A bachelor's degree is definitely something to be proud of, especially when I've gotten it in 4 years (which is harder for Longwood students than you would think), especially when its a biology degree. I can't believe I'm going off for more school and then maybe even more to go from RN to MSN. Considering I was one of those people right out of high school who was dreading 4 more years of classes in college, this is quite a change. I suppose that I'd rather do the damn thing and be happy and stable in my job the rest of my life than not.
The point is, while I still can't picture myself as older than 16, I have certainly changed. I guess the change was so gradual that I couldn't really notice it until a milestone such as this. It's funny. 10 years from now, I'll think that I was SO immature at 22.
So here I am... on a bridge between being an adult and a child. It sure feels like I've been here awhile, but I'm that much closer to crossing it. I absolutely can't wait. I believe that this is the beginning of the end of that bridge.
Friday, April 16, 2010
No Day But TODAY
Tonight's the night. Opening night.
For whatever reason, I'm not nervous at all, which is weird because I have a strong history of stage fright, and I was definitely very nervous when we first began rehearsals. But now, nothing. Of course I'm excited, but not really nervous.
Maybe that will change when it gets closer to 8:00.
Well... 6 weeks of nightly rehearsals is going to pay off in the form of applause this weekend and next weekend. I've made some really awesome friends and rekindled my love for theatre. I'm really thankful for all of my friends who encouraged me to audition when I really didn't think I was going to. I want to thank in advance all of my support, the people who are willing to pay $15 to watch me do something I love. This whole thing has been the blast.
The only sad thing? Opening night means that it's almost all over.
Come on out to Waterworks (Industrial Park Road off of 3rd Street in Farmville) tonight, tomorrow, next Friday, or next Saturday at 8:00! Viva la vie boheme!
For whatever reason, I'm not nervous at all, which is weird because I have a strong history of stage fright, and I was definitely very nervous when we first began rehearsals. But now, nothing. Of course I'm excited, but not really nervous.
Maybe that will change when it gets closer to 8:00.
Well... 6 weeks of nightly rehearsals is going to pay off in the form of applause this weekend and next weekend. I've made some really awesome friends and rekindled my love for theatre. I'm really thankful for all of my friends who encouraged me to audition when I really didn't think I was going to. I want to thank in advance all of my support, the people who are willing to pay $15 to watch me do something I love. This whole thing has been the blast.
The only sad thing? Opening night means that it's almost all over.
Come on out to Waterworks (Industrial Park Road off of 3rd Street in Farmville) tonight, tomorrow, next Friday, or next Saturday at 8:00! Viva la vie boheme!
Friday, April 2, 2010
Sometimes you just need to talk about it
I terrible thing happened today. It's been on my mind all day and maybe writing will be therapeutic for me, so please bear with me.
I was driving home from school on a rural, hilly highway when I saw a cute little beagle running on the side. Whenever I see a dog running on the side of an even remotely busy road, I generally pull over and keep the dog with me while calling animal control (as long as conditions are safe for me to pull over). So today I did just that.
As soon as I pulled over, she decided to cross the street. I watched helplessly as a pickup truck slammed into her body. I can visualize it vividly now and I can still hear her high-pitched yelp. She quickly dragged her body off the street (her hind legs or maybe hip bone were clearly broken). Disoriented, she fell down a hill and into a ditch.
For those of you who know me well, you know that I am an enormous animal lover. Especially dogs. Especially beagles. And this was too much for my emotional nature to handle. So I ran across the street to try to find her while calling for animal control.
Thankfully, the man who hit her and a woman who also witnessed it turned around and came back to help me. The man crawled down and picked her up with my bedsheets. And, unfortunately, I saw very vividly how bad this was.
One eye was gone completely, with a bubble of blood in its place. The other seemed to be halfway gone. Her hind legs lay in a tangled mess, and pink froth lined her mouth. Sobbing, I held her in my arms and lied to her. "Hang on, sweetie. You're going to be alright."
Despite her panic, obvious pain, and disorientation, she didn't try to resist anyone. An obvious mama, she recognized that we were taking care of her. I sat with her on the side of the highway for half an hour until animal control came, all the while loving her as if she was my own pet. As she drifted in and out of consciousness, her breathing became softer.
I cried the most when animal control took her from me. I made sure my bedsheets were wrapped around her and handed her to the man who gently placed her in his truck. I couldn't help thinking that I was afraid she would die alone in a crate in the back of a pick up truck before being able to be put down peacefully.
I can't stop thinking about her. I'm angry at her owners for letting her run around, or maybe they were hunters who simply let her go in the wild after she was done with her breeding years or no longer a good hunter. I'm angry at the man who hit her. Why couldn't he have slowed down? And I'm angry at myself for being just a minute too late.
I keep telling myself that if I hadn't been there, she would have died alone in a muddy ditch, either picked to death by vultures, starved, or bled to death internally. I like to think my care helped to calm her down.
Some people just shouldn't be pet owners. Beagles are bred to follow their noses. They can't be let out to roam about. It just breaks my heart, and this poor girl died a painful death because of one person's irresponsibility.
I just hope she's resting peacefully now.
I was driving home from school on a rural, hilly highway when I saw a cute little beagle running on the side. Whenever I see a dog running on the side of an even remotely busy road, I generally pull over and keep the dog with me while calling animal control (as long as conditions are safe for me to pull over). So today I did just that.
As soon as I pulled over, she decided to cross the street. I watched helplessly as a pickup truck slammed into her body. I can visualize it vividly now and I can still hear her high-pitched yelp. She quickly dragged her body off the street (her hind legs or maybe hip bone were clearly broken). Disoriented, she fell down a hill and into a ditch.
For those of you who know me well, you know that I am an enormous animal lover. Especially dogs. Especially beagles. And this was too much for my emotional nature to handle. So I ran across the street to try to find her while calling for animal control.
Thankfully, the man who hit her and a woman who also witnessed it turned around and came back to help me. The man crawled down and picked her up with my bedsheets. And, unfortunately, I saw very vividly how bad this was.
One eye was gone completely, with a bubble of blood in its place. The other seemed to be halfway gone. Her hind legs lay in a tangled mess, and pink froth lined her mouth. Sobbing, I held her in my arms and lied to her. "Hang on, sweetie. You're going to be alright."
Despite her panic, obvious pain, and disorientation, she didn't try to resist anyone. An obvious mama, she recognized that we were taking care of her. I sat with her on the side of the highway for half an hour until animal control came, all the while loving her as if she was my own pet. As she drifted in and out of consciousness, her breathing became softer.
I cried the most when animal control took her from me. I made sure my bedsheets were wrapped around her and handed her to the man who gently placed her in his truck. I couldn't help thinking that I was afraid she would die alone in a crate in the back of a pick up truck before being able to be put down peacefully.
I can't stop thinking about her. I'm angry at her owners for letting her run around, or maybe they were hunters who simply let her go in the wild after she was done with her breeding years or no longer a good hunter. I'm angry at the man who hit her. Why couldn't he have slowed down? And I'm angry at myself for being just a minute too late.
I keep telling myself that if I hadn't been there, she would have died alone in a muddy ditch, either picked to death by vultures, starved, or bled to death internally. I like to think my care helped to calm her down.
Some people just shouldn't be pet owners. Beagles are bred to follow their noses. They can't be let out to roam about. It just breaks my heart, and this poor girl died a painful death because of one person's irresponsibility.
I just hope she's resting peacefully now.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Tick tock
It's funny how time plays tricks on us. I remember very vividly walking around Douglas Freeman High School on my first day of freshman year. "The next 4 years are going to fly by," I thought to myself. How is it that it feels like I just had that thought when this day has been slowly dragging on? Why is it that years go faster than the 50 minute Cell Bio lecture that I go to 3 days a week?
Yes, they say time flies when you're having fun. I suppose that's true, but what also makes it fly? Staying busy? In a couple weeks, I will be bombarded with papers, speeches, tests, preparing for graduation, preparing for nursing school, and trying to keep my anxiety at bay while I memorize lines and songs as my first lead in a musical. And after those hectic weeks, in the blink of an eye I'll be wearing that stupid looking cap and gown and shaking the hand of Dr. Cormier.
I feel old. How is that? I'm only 21, but I guess I am about to have some real accomplishments under my belt. With a college degree and continuing my education, I'm on the road to being a true adult, and a successful one at that. The only problem? I still feel 16 years old. I keep wondering when I will be able to view myself as a real citizen of society, a person of substance, an inhabitant of the working world. Maybe it will be when I move out of my parents' house. Maybe it will be when I go to work every day in a hospital that supplies me with a hefty check regularly. Maybe it will be when I have a ring on my finger or an infant inside of me. Or maybe I'll always feel like a kid. I guess there are worse things.
Until then, I'll keep an eye on that clock, hoping it to slow down so I can finish all of this work, enjoy the rest of my college life, and enjoy being young. Or maybe I want it to speed up so I can get on with my adult life and feel independent for the first time.
That's the funny thing about time. It doesn't really matter what I want it to do. It's still going to keep on ticking away.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Birthday Suit
I have been lucky enough to find a tax-free job that pays good money for very little effort. My shifts are only 2 hours long, and its within walking distance on campus. However, this very part-time job that I have is one that not many people would be comfortable with. I am a nude model.
My first reaction was probably similar to yours right now. I felt like people on campus would point and laugh and that it's "slutty" and too personal. I didn't want all of my flaws shown to an entire class of freshmen. But the more I talked to my art major roommate, the more appealing it seemed. When Raquel seemed equally interested, we made a deal that we would both do it (though not at the same time). So around this time last year, we both did.
Taking my robe off in front of 25-30 people and exposing every inch of skin that I have was one of the most frightening moments I've ever experienced. I had this moment in my head of "Oh my goodness what if I was wrong and I'm NOT supposed to be completely naked. Maybe it's just bra and underwear." I quickly realized that everyone else seemed completely at ease as they held up their thumbs to get proportions right. After about 2 minutes of utter panic and fighting the urge to just grab my robe and run out, the adrenaline kicked in. By the end of the 2 hour session, I was fairly comfortable (but I was also in a reclining pose). I had no real stories to report. While I obviously felt exposed, I didn't feel dirty. I've felt more exposed when getting nasty looks from dirty men in bars than naked in a room of students. So I kept going back.
Now it's almost funny how boring it is. Where I used to look forward to the rush of adrenaline, I now just feel completely at ease (except when my appendages fall asleep from not being able to move). I don't think about my love handles or stubbly legs because I know these people have had to draw many different shapes of people and I'm just one more. In fact, I'm such an "expert," my schedule is getting booked up very quickly by different teachers. I guess I should agree to as many sessions as I can before I graduate. While this is a controlled environment at my school, I definitely wouldn't feel comfortable doing this in the "real world." But I suppose it makes a good story and good money now, and so I'll continue de-robing until May.
My first reaction was probably similar to yours right now. I felt like people on campus would point and laugh and that it's "slutty" and too personal. I didn't want all of my flaws shown to an entire class of freshmen. But the more I talked to my art major roommate, the more appealing it seemed. When Raquel seemed equally interested, we made a deal that we would both do it (though not at the same time). So around this time last year, we both did.
Taking my robe off in front of 25-30 people and exposing every inch of skin that I have was one of the most frightening moments I've ever experienced. I had this moment in my head of "Oh my goodness what if I was wrong and I'm NOT supposed to be completely naked. Maybe it's just bra and underwear." I quickly realized that everyone else seemed completely at ease as they held up their thumbs to get proportions right. After about 2 minutes of utter panic and fighting the urge to just grab my robe and run out, the adrenaline kicked in. By the end of the 2 hour session, I was fairly comfortable (but I was also in a reclining pose). I had no real stories to report. While I obviously felt exposed, I didn't feel dirty. I've felt more exposed when getting nasty looks from dirty men in bars than naked in a room of students. So I kept going back.
Now it's almost funny how boring it is. Where I used to look forward to the rush of adrenaline, I now just feel completely at ease (except when my appendages fall asleep from not being able to move). I don't think about my love handles or stubbly legs because I know these people have had to draw many different shapes of people and I'm just one more. In fact, I'm such an "expert," my schedule is getting booked up very quickly by different teachers. I guess I should agree to as many sessions as I can before I graduate. While this is a controlled environment at my school, I definitely wouldn't feel comfortable doing this in the "real world." But I suppose it makes a good story and good money now, and so I'll continue de-robing until May.
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