2005 was a pretty amazing year. But write it on everything and file it away. And as of this afternoon, there is nothing and no one to hold me back. Interpret that as you will.
Have a wonderful night, everyone, and may the new year treat you well.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?"
"It's gonna be a ... a happy new year ..."
I have put 130 miles on my baby Jasyn since yesterday at 1830 hours. I have seen a lot of Tennessaae. I have seen a lot of White Trash Christmas. I drove past my favorite bar, the Cornpone (hey, where are y'all goin tonight? I'm fixin to head over to the Pone!). But tonight, Jodi and I saw the best thing ever, which was, of course, the sign on the Turnpike once you take it out past the split to Lenoir City and Kingston and everything, that says African Burial Ground. So, it's pitch dark and we can't see a thing, but of course we cannot pass up such a golden opportunity. We turn around. We miss the turn again. We turn around again. We miss the turn a third time. It was seriously hard to see. On the fourth try, we pull in, pull up to the No Public Access sign, stop the car, get out, giggle relentlessly, jump the fence and head down the road. Not two minutes later, we simultaneously spot a dark shape that looks suspiciously like a body coming out of the ground and hear a noise that sounds like a gun cocking. We freeze. And turn and sprint. As we run, Jodi says, ""Here's the part where the niggers come out of the ground and get us!" It was the single most offensive thing I have ever heard her say, and it just made us run faster and breathe harder. We throw ourselves in my truck and start to get back on the road, when we notice another, paved, non-barred road. For the record, that is where the actual graveyard is, but the first one sure was scary. It was sad, too, because there was only one tombstone in the whole thing that we could see, and on one tree was hung this sign that just says "Slave." We felt a little more respectful by then. And we totally visited an African burial ground tonight.
Then we almost got arrested in the Valley, almost died on the slides at Cedar Hill, and almost crashed the damn car on Californ-I-A. It was an eventful night.
Last Read: Valley of the Dolls
Currently Reading: Valley of the Dolls again, because clearly it is my life story.
HER HAIR'S AS PHONEY AS SHE IS!
How many more times can I write 2005 on the top of this - or on anything? It doesn't seem possible for this year to be almost over. I wished some of it away, and forced some of it to end, and then spent a semester in a whirlwind that wouldn't let me catch my breath long enough to look at a calendar. It's so hard to believe that not only did I finish high school and get into college and pack for college and go to college, but one semester of it - 1/8 of it - is over. I want to do it again, to make sure I got all of the everything out of it that I could. Everything that happened last year still seems like yesterday. no, that's not right. It seems so recent, but it seems unreal - like a dream I just woke up from, that I know was in my mind seconds ago but it's already fading, and I already can't conceive of it anymore. And now it's almost 2006 and time for another Travis party and Christmas is already over without me even wishing for it or waiting for it. Am I getting old already, that time passes too quickly?
One thing that ended up flying by was that last night of studying for finals. End of the story - I learned to study, stayed until they kicked me out of the liberry, studied into the night in good ol' Bewb with the aid of some plus-dollars starbucks and holiday-themed pretzels, curled up with my stuffed animals for a nap, got up and went through a bajillion flashcards for hours, and then went, in my beloved senior sweats, to take the final. And it was easy. It was so easy. I had learned everything.
And as for the rest of my grades, they were amazing. Especially considering that I honestly did not work this semester at all. But I'm not going to count on coasting through the rest of my college career (however, the 27-page research paper got me an A+ in the class, which is pretty sweet). I have big plans for studying all the damn time next semester. No, really.
So, Christmas break started off with a bang when I went to play with Kyle at NYU for 5 days. I literally was living with him. And let me tell you, it is a testament to the strength of our relationship that we did not get into any real arguments and that we still love each other. Because those dorm rooms are tiny, and we spent a lot of time together. I went through all 10 floors of Saks 5th Avenue without finding ANYTHING I could afford. There was a three-pack of boxers for $198 - I don't love anyone that much. And in the cafï¿1⁄2, the little petit fours and other goodies are under glass domes on plates that rotate around the counter on a little conveyer belt. So I didn't buy any of those either - not gonna lie, I was a little intimidated. Truth? The only thing I purchased on 5th avenue was a Disney shotglass for my collection. And I'm pleased with that! OH, and a bottle of Trump Ice bottled water from Trump Tower for my Apprentice-obsessed mother. It cost $2.17 and tasted horrible, but the bottle is definitely a funny keepsake.
Other activities included seeing Doubt again, from much better seats, and Edward Albee's Seascape from the front damn row in the Booth, which I love ever since Ben Vereen hugged me right outside it years ago, and The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, which cracked my shit up. We also had the best hamburgers in NYC in the lobby of Le Parker Meridien on 57th, awesome pizza up past Lincoln Center, a jolly good time playing around at Columbus Circle, coffee in at least four separate Starbucks, fun being ignored in the Burberry store because Kyle was wearing sweatpants, many many rides on the N the Q the R the W, and no time to waste in the theme park known as Times Square. The awesome thing about this trip is that I was with Kyle and his suitemates, who all live in NYC now, and some of them are even from there. I felt like I lived in the suite by the time I left - didn't have to give reasons for entering or leaving conversations or rooms, didn't have to say anything entertaining to be allowed to stay, could crash in any room at any time. so that was a different experience. I hope my Kyle baby lets me come back soon!
OH. and we saw Brokeback Mountain. The soundtrack of which I am currently listening to. Ending sentences with prepositions is something up with which I will not put. Riding back on the train at 1 30 in the morning re-evaluating our lives was a surreal experience. That movie hit me harder than anything I've ever seen, and I saw Closer and Garden State, both of which made me at least stop and think. This one makes you, well, excited and apprehensive and scared all at the same time. Terrified that you will not find someone to love the way they love in this movie. And yet, if you do, even if the situation is horrible, it can get you through so much. It's an amazing movie. Putting aside all prejudices and misconceptions (which are easy to come by, since it's being reviewed with headlines like "Cowboys Ride Horses, Each Other" - don't let that fool you, this is neither a gay cowboy movie nor a gay love story. It is simply a love story), I encourage you to go see it. Jake Gyllenhall is amazing, and both Anne Hathaway and Michelle Williams gave performances I never expected to see from either of them. But this movie belongs to Heath Ledger, and the Oscar should, too. We shall see.
Christmas was my favorite holiday, as always, made more enjoyable by the tree decorated entirely in Joy ornaments for the second year running. Mother bought at least 10 new ones this year. You'd think we'd have them all by now but you would be wrong! It's so exciting. Ashleee and I had a successful Christmas party the other night at the best location ev-ah but if I told you, I'd have to kill you. Actually, I'd love to tell you. Because I'm so pleased that we pulled it off. Ask me later. Oh and for Christmas, I got my very own pearl necklace and earrings! Because everyone knows any UVa girl worth her Lacoste polo shirt has to have real pearls! I feel so authentic all of the sudden.
Jodi and I were shopping (okay, we'd darted into Williams Sonoma to rob them of their samples) when she announced she'd never made a gingerbread house. Well. That was unacceptable. We careened back to the Ridge and immediately began baking. Despite some early setbacks in which I could not find the rolling pin, ran out of Karo Syrup and decided to use Aunt Jemima instead because at least two ingredients were the same and, hey, who doesn't love Aunt Jemima?, and misread the recipe at least twice, the cookies that were made from the leftover dough turned out amazing, and the house turned out SPECTACULAR. It has a wild animal menagerie, a snow fort, the head of a jewish guy on a pole (because that's how we do things 'round here, says my brother, who helped), a mob boss bleeding from two bullet holes who was apparently shot by the bear, who Jodi tried to get to look like a dog but failed, a dinosaur, a guy who committed suicide with pills (Claratin sprinked liberally around) because the holidays are so hard and subsequently had his head eaten by aforementioned dinosaur, a crop circle, an alien, and a lion covered in gumdrops. And Johnny Damon. OH, and like a house and Santa and a sleigh and stuff. and Rudolph, who was a dinosaur cookie with a red Skittle on his nose. It's a house for the record books, to be sure.
Okay, kids, have some links. I can honestly say that nothing has ever made me lose more faith in humanity while simultaneously inspiring a toe-tapping beat, or at least not since Hilary Duff began her singing career, than this. What IS it? I especially enjoy the backup "dancers" and the improvisational-esque interlude. And then there's this for the graphic violence fans among you, but a warning first - this IS offensive and I DID cringe watching it, and if the movie originally hadn't made me want to laugh a little bit (inwardly, of course) I would probably be horribly upset right now. So, keep that in mind. And then, if the Pope said it, then it must be true, right?
Merry Christmas, darlings, and Happy Chrismukkah, and if you didn't get everything you wanted this holiday season, and want to defend against "commercial pollution" and get "the real gift of Christmas," I'm in the Ridge for another three weeks and would love to see ya.
"But we can't read the darkness, Mr. Scoresby."
Oh, finals. Like AP tests, except with AP tests, you actually went to class (unless you were me and you attend more classes in college than you ever did in high school), and no one has forced you to review. As such, they're much less stressful, because you don't know what you don't know.
I think my first couple went well, and I may get better grades this semester than I thought. That'll teach me to take as many upper-level classes as I can get into, and try also to do EVERYTHING ELSE. Next semester, it's going to be me, APO, Wash, Econ, Bio, Psych, and Politics. And weekends, of course. It's so easy now to see how I should have studied all semester, which is excellent, because I can do it next semester! I ought to have done it this semester, I know, but I am so grateful for all the not-wasted hours I have spent laying around and trying to get to know people I didn't grow up with well enough to feel like I did. Studying, or a three-hour lunch with a pledge brother? Problem sets, or keeping a friend company on coverage? oh MIT, you were never right for me. Why am I so cheerful at 10:45 at night when I have a test in less than 24 hours? Probably because I have the best friends in the world, the kind who will stop studying to walk me to OHill or who will take an hour of of their day to entertain my sick self or who remember that holiday-themed yogurt-covered pretzels are my favorite things ever and want to bring them to me to make me smile.
I am still loving APO like it's my damn job. AND I just got appointed to the position of Assistant Historian for the Wash Society. Yeah, I'd laugh that job off too if I didn't know better - we're doing a major overhaul and starting to record all our recent history, as well as planning the history displays and slideshows for the alumni banquet in February. This is excellent. I get to learn all the ridiculous stories about this amazing society, who usually are too smart and esoteric for their own good, and make sure no one forgets the ones I'm living right now. Like the time they held a keg party in Alderman library. Or, the time M ike D indoffer dropped his pants and just kept talking ... wait, time? I meant times. Or the time Captain Morgan was SO drunk (not to be confused with the times he was just regular drunk) that he tried to give a floor speech but was instead ushered from the meeting to the bathroom and climbed back in the window, and his minutes for the next meeting were illegible except the parts that say "I really have to pee!" Ah yes, and the time that everyone was drunk. "Stop obviously drinking during meetings!" says Gene. Poor dear.
Truth? I wasn't scared to leave "home" but now I'm absolutely terrified to go back. What is left there? I mean, the obvious things - Holly, Joan, Ashleee, Jennyfer, Mark, Kevin, Kyle - but I don't belong there anymore. After Thanksgiving, I came back and let out a sigh of relief and said "I'm home!" and startled myself a little, but it's true. I live in a little room with blue striped comforters and a dog in a pink polo shirt as the mascot, where we wear ties all the time, or just our underwear, and never vaccuum, and watch Veronica Mars in silence on Wednesday nights. I have not been back to the Ridge since August 19 when I didn't look back as I left, and I don't know how much I've changed because I've nothing to compare it to. That, at least, should be interesting.
Must I study? I am afraid the answer is yes. Responsibility, at least, is one thing I appear to have developped in the past semester.
Also, did anyone watch the opening drive of the Colts/Jags game this afternoon? It was textbook. It was perfect. It was gorgeous and graceful and like a well-oiled machine. Footbawl is so pretty sometimes. Especially when I'm winning. PEYTON.
I'm lonely and I don't want to go. I'm hidden in the stacks in the back of Alderman and haven't seen a person in hours, except when I went to Newcomb for dinner and they were closing and the only thing left was a burrito bar, but they made you fold them yourself. It was really tricky. The ladies laughed at me, and I ended up eating it with a spoon. I'm surrounded by crazy, crazy books and reports. One of them is titled, and I kid you not, The 1981 District Census Report of Muzaffargarh. I don't consider myself to be uncultured, but I have NEVER heard of that. There's an entire bookshelf of books on the India census. Actually, two. There's four shelves of the Mississippi Quarterly behind me. Sometimes I forget how much stuff there really is to know. People write all this! Do you think anyone's ever come in here to learn about Muzaffargarh? What could they possibly need so much information on India for? Are there books that have just never been opened, not ever? Who is going to come in here for a book on statistics written in Polish? It's so awe-inspiringly crazy. And with that I will go learn.
"I've waited, and given the chance again, I'd do it all the same."
in the past 48 hours, I have slept for possibly six. And that's probably a stretch.
I remembered why I don't drink caffeine - besides the fact that I don't like the taste of coffee or soda or tea, it also gives me pounding headaches and makes my feet slash hands slash eyes jiggle uncontrollably. Despite this, there are two empty cans of Starbucks Espresso DoubleShot in our trash can, and three more in the fridge.
You see, I had a term paper due today. And I have a final in approximately seven hours. Good thing I've been realizing all semester that education is no longer made up entirely - or even mostly - of what you get in a classroom. It's debates with Pat at three in the morning and it's learning to live with nine girls and it's navigating the perils of cable bills and bus schedules with Jess. It's figuring out which friends to keep. And a little bit, it's learning statistics. But it's not enough about statistics that I'm really worried about this final exam thaaang tomorrow.
The two care packages I received today contained, among other things:
A singing Santa soap dispenserthe nose immediately went on our room mascot, a little stuffed dog that is wearing a pink polo shirt with the collar popped (appropriate, I know right?), and we've all been playing with the Play-Doh ever since. I like that my relatives have figured out that my overall maturity level has decreased at a truly amazing rate. Juice boxes? Yeah my favorite thing ever, next to easy mac. (PS anyone ELSE who wants to send me stuff, address is 223 Webb, Charlottesville VA 22904 and I LOVE YOU)
Spongebob Squarepants candy
Juicy Juice juice boxes
shimmering Play-Doh
and a blinking Rudolph nose
A girl from Club Swim brought Jess a christmas present of lots of candy. I chomped my teeth a couple of times in her direction and she unwrapped a piece of chocolate and dropped it in my mouth. I heart our wordless relationship.
All right, this is quite enough procrastination. I am to learn confidence intervals, distributions, hypotheses tests, and multiple regressions.
What I need to do is plot a regression of the effect of my hours of sleep and my hours of studying on my final exam grade. And then I need to take the derivative of that, set it equal to zero, and shoot myself in the face.
Good night, and good luck.
I am thisclose to skipping my noon class and going to dance in circles in it.
But as long as you love me so, let it snow let it snow let it snow.
I've been ranting and raving about this, so it's unlikely that this will be news to you. However, I want to put it here anyways just so I'm less likely to forget about it.
If you're completely out of the loop, ORHS is in the middle of a massive first amendment scandal, as administrators dug through teachers' desks and classrooms for all 1800 copies of the Oak Leaf, to keep students from seeing an article on birth control and another article on students' tattoos. Reasons include our brilliant superintendant Bailey saying (paraphrased) that we have 14-year-olds who read that paper, so obviously it was inappropriate. Now, I have a question. Why do we have to have a child care program for children of students? Allow me to hazard a guess that it's not because they're reading about birth control. Also, correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't we all get graphic lectures on birth control from that creepy gray-haired lady who held her boobs a lot at JMS? I'm just saying.
I feel like this is almost taking credibility away from my high school diploma. I stand up for TN and defend my school - I'm from the last bastion of intelligence and liberal thought! We have more Ph.D.'s per capita than anywhere in the country! We're not like the rest of Tennessee - that's just for us to visit and revel in and giggle at when we're in the mood. But no, we're worse. Has Clinton ever been in 200+ online articles for something as ridiculous and uninformed and backwards as this? Has Karns ever been televised on national news over a censorship scandal? Have alumni of Anderson County ever been bombarded by emails and IMs on all sides from friends from other schools and other states, telling them that their school was in the news ... uh .. they may want to go check it out? No.
so, for all these reasons and more, I am appalled and disappointed. My only hope is that they can use this to fire the superintendent, or the new principal (COME BACK KENNETH!), or perhaps both. And here is the original birth control article - the paper has since been reprinted with that article replaced with an article on Masquers.
According to a poll taken in 2001, if applied to ORHS today, then there would beOf course, they had shitfits over the fact that kids may find out that they didn't have to tell their parents about things like this. Let's face it - more often than not, parents are not helpful in situations like this. Friends and sometimes the rare teacher are the supportive ones, and there's a lot of students who need that information. Also, to put it into context, this article was printed right next to an editorial or a letter to the editor (not exactly clear on which) praising all the merits of abstinence until marriage. I really doubt this paper was going to turn the Ridge into a giant mess of procreating bunny rabbits - at least, not any more than it already is. Let's face it, we get bored.
34% of ninth graders = 143 sexually active students
41% of tenth graders = 147 sexually active students
52% of eleventh graders = 195 sexually active students
60 % of twelfth graders = 207 sexually active students**This information was provided by Dr. Charles E. Darling, an obstetrician with the Anderson County Health center. **
If these figures hold true, 692 ORHS students have had sexual intercourse. There are many concerns for these teens, including emotional health, STD's, and pregnancies. I want to discuss how to lower the risk of unwanted pregnancy. While complete sexual abstinence is certainly an option, these statistics say that many teens aren't choosing that option.
My opinion is, if you're going to have sex, then be safe. There are so many things out there that can keep you safe. These methods include:
The pill with an 8% failure rate
Male condoms with a 14% failure rate
Rhythm (avoiding sexual contact when the female is fertile) with a 20% failure rate
Withdrawal with a 24% failure rate
Cervical caps with a 20% failure rate
Spermicides with a 26% failure rate
Depo-Provera (an intra-muscular shot received every 12 weeks) with a 3.1% failure rate
Mirena IUD (a hormone releasing intrauterine contraceptive) with a 0.1% failure rate
ParaGaurd IUD (a non-hormone releasing intrauterine contraceptive) with a 0.8% failure rate
A diaphragm with a 12% failure rate"There are some things that a lot of people don't know about many of these contraceptives that make the failure rate so high,â" Dr. Darling cautions. The only way for male condoms to actually work correctly is as soon as the male ejaculates he must pull out so there won't be any leakage into the vaginal area. This, unfortunately, is not widely practiced and therefore ups the risk of pregnancy.
"If you are taking any medications and you wish to be put on Depo-Provera you should go and talk to your OB/GYN before and make sure that they will work together. There have been many cases where a certain medication has shortened the 12 week infertility period by almost 3 weeks. This causes women to be able to get pregnant during this time period," said a current substitute teacher and a former employee at a pregnancy center, who asked that we not use her name. "Withdrawal is risky because many men do not realize when semen is released the first bit of semen contains a large quantity of sperm," Dr. Darling stated. If you are considering any kind of birth control, please talk to your doctor first and let him know of any medications that you may be on to be sure that it is right for you.
Statistics show the number of teens involved with sexual intercourse has been declining since 1991; now 43% of women and 49% of men admit to being sexually active in high school.
“Continuous use of the pill and the patch has not been well studied, nor are there large studies done on the effectiveness of the vaginal ring,†said Darling.
“If you get a pregnancy test done and you find out that you are pregnant, you can make sure that the parents do not know. Also parental consent is not needed to obtain birth control,†stated Darling.
Contraceptives can be obtained through a local physician or the local Health Department. The Anderson County Health Department is open on Mon - Fri 8 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. and is located at 100 N Main St, Clinton, TN 37716. You can reach them during normal business hours at (865) 457-6228
It's funny, the longer I'm away from Tennessee, the more I miss it, as an ideal, as an abstract concept. I've embraced it, because I suddenly had to defend my upbringing. I no longer fight the accent. I giggle about my fun nights mullet-hunting in Wal*Mart. I'm the Southern girl and that's my thing. I love country music - ME, who's been fighting it for years. I crave sweet tea with every meal and am constantly disappointed by Virginia's utter inability to make it correctly (Virginia, despite its location with respect to the Mason-Dixon line and its Civil War history, is NOT the south). I'm proud of the slow-talking, slow-moving, polite, nosy, small town I'm from, even when I remember the backstabbing and the country club attitude.
And then they pull shit like this. And as much as it embarrasses me to have to admit that, sometimes, the south is as horrible as everyone fears it is, I still told everyone I knew about it.
Spreading the disgust and horror is really the only way to fight this. Ironically, what was meant to be a lesson to BLT about how she ought not to be so shocking in her paper has developed into a lesson for all Ridgers, past and present, on the first amendment and how big a splash a little thing can make when it fucks with our most dearly-held right.
There will be legal preceedings of some sort. I do not know how they will go, because although the Oak Leaf is self-supported, it is still associated with a school. But at least it's out there, and people are appalled.
And to my gun-toting Republican-voting confederate-flag-floating motherland - you can do better than this.
