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lunasarielGoodness, so much has happened since my last real entry (Writer's Blocks don't count)! My life is now utterly and irrefutably different than it was last week. Hell, it's different now than it was yesterday!
The most recent of my life-altering events occurred last night (technically, early this morning), when I saw Jay for the last time between now and Thanksgiving. Yes, the dreaded day has come and he's off to Wilamett, a small liberal arts college in Salem, Oregon.
A bit of background, on the off chance that anyone is actually reading this: Jay Fabian is my boyfriend of two years and counting. We officially got together on May 3, 2006. We were both sophomores in high school. He transferred into my PE class in September of that year. He was originally introduced as Chris' friend, Chris being one of those in our original PE group, and Heather's (my best friend's) soon-to-be BF. The four of us formed our own little group-within-a-group, which continues to this day. Heather and Chris (now known as Chrisandheather, á la Zits, or simply Creather) became an Item in February. Several months later, one Saturday at the annual Apple Blossom Parade, Jay and I randomly ran into each other, as my younger brother and his younger sister were both marching in the high school band. We went back to his house, which is closer to the parade route than mine, and watched FLCL, aka Fooly Cooly, for the first time. I thought that that was when things were going to go down, but apparently FLCL had sufficiently fried both our brains to the point that nothing did. We officially became a couple the following Tuesday, during the study period known as Tutorial. And the rest is history.
We're both otaku, creative types, misanthropic, love Joss Whedon and Blade of the Immortal, and hate spicy food. I love him very, very much, and I don't know what I'm going to do without him for three months. The longest we've ever been separated was three weeks, the summer before last, when he was on a cross-country family trip. That time, he got back early (the day before my birthday), unbeknownst to me. On my sixteenth birthday, he showed up at my door, unannounced, with roses. I kind of tackled him. XD
Oh, well, at least our last night together was a memorable one. We were trying to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but the disc was having some serious issues, so we had to watch the last episode online. But the only place we could find it was some Vietnamese site that took forever to load, so a 40 minute episode became a two hour investment. We'd let it load until it had about 10 or 15 minutes of screen time, play it, then get a snack or just talk while we waited for the next bit to load. All I can say is, thank Goddess for Arizona iced tea! I was enormously sleepy (I'd had a busy day), and I seriously don't know how I could have stayed awake without it.
We finally got done some time after midnight, then headed down to the shed. I call it a shed, but it's completely refurbished, until it looks something like a rather minimalistic rec room. It's where anyone in our family goes when they do not want to be disturbed, and where I usually go with Jay. I'll leave the next hour or so up to your imagination. ;)
Anyway, after that, Jay had to go. He and his parents were driving up to Salem, making a two-day trip out of it. It was 1:30 AM by that point, and his regular curfew is 11:00 PM, but we were both thinking that his parents and mine would be a little lenient, at least for tonight. I had promised myself that I wouldn't cry when he left, but damn if I didn't break down. At least I found out that he was as cut up about this as I was. I remember thinking that he was going to be all stoic about it, like he usually is about emotional issues, but I looked up at him (have I mentioned that he's at least eight inches taller than me?), and I saw the light shining off a tear trail down his face... Dammit, I'm making myself tear up again just thinking about it. I sent him off with a little housewarming gift, a good fortune dragon scroll with a little brass bell hanging off it. After he left, I cried myself to sleep and woke up late, groggy, and puffy-eyed this morning.
But on to happier news: earlier that day, I finally got my driver's license! I was incredibly nervous, seeing as how I had kind of a bad experience last time. The instructor kept calling me "hon", barely said a word, and was just generally was cold and unsympathetic. I failed that time, for making a left turn from a lane reserved for traffic going straight. But this time it was completely different. My instructor was FREAKIN' AWESOME!!! He reminded me of Mr. Regan (known to his minions by his first name, Vance), our high school band director. He was *very* cool. Nice, funny, and easygoing. Asked if I had any questions beforehand, apologized for making me wait, chatted a bit on the drive, and on the backing up part of the test, when I was sure I had failed for touching the curb, he said that not only was it ok as long as I didn't ride the curb, and he let me look forward and check my mirrors, which my teacher said was completely taboo!
I took my first solo drive today. It started out horrifying, but got easier as time went by. I went to the library first (of course I forgot to return the books), and while I was working there, I realized that I had left the car unlocked with my cell phone inside, so I was envisioning all sorts of nightmare scenarios, but it all worked out okay. I then went all the way into Santa Rosa for my English class (more on that later). I took the freeway there and back, despite my mom's trepidations, and arrived home in one piece, although there were some fairly dicey moments when I was trying to pull out of a tight parking space, and I realized that not only was I within six inches of sideswiping somebody's SUV, but that I was blocking both lanes. Eeek.
Third life-changing event: as you might have picked up, my first semester as a worldly college student have started! The campus is just *beautiful* (the main campus, anyway), and I'm finding my way around with a fair amount of ease now. I only have one class, English 1A, on Tuesdays and Thursdays until early September, when Library 10 starts. I begin to fear that it is Dummy Freshman English, but I'm too deeply embroiled to quit now. Or maybe it's just that we're reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn instead of something more to my taste. I guess Ms. Fadave spoiled me with her archaic literature. Our professor, Dr. Wakefield, is ok. Seems kind of vague and scholarly, but then again, that's the best kind.
My other classes are Counseling 10, Math 10 and Beginning Judo. Counseling 10 is the very definition of the gentle freshman get-adjusted-to-college course.
I was originally enrolled in Math 9, because I thought that was the easiest math class. Boy-howdy, was I wrong. I come in, sit down, and he starts talking about statistics and finance. Apparently, Math 9 is for business majors and other people who actually like math. But I transferred into Math 10, which is defined as a math course for those who plan on majoring in liberal arts. Basically, math for people who hate math. Mom calls it Math for Poets. It has a lot of very interesting material on logic and history. For the first time in recorded history, I can say that I like my math class.
Beginning Judo is probably my favorite class so far, if it weren't for all the sit-ups and push-ups we have to do. It was more than 24 hours ago, and I'm still sore. Oh, well. If this keeps up, I'm going to be in *amazing* shape by the time Jay gets back. But getting back on topic... I love everything about the class. I love the ceremony and tradition, I love getting to speak Japanese, I love the gi, I love the fact that Chrisandheater are in it with me, and I love the instructors. The sensei, especially. Her name is Destinee Tartuffe. She's a smallish, spare woman in her mid-to-late forties. She looks tough and rangy, but you really get a sense of how powerful she is when she yells. Drill sergeants and artillery commanders must train for *years* to get the kind of "you will shut up and listen to me if you know what's good for you" bellow. When she yells "MATTE!" she's doing so with the conviction that she knows about twenty ways to dislocate our arms if we don't stop at that precise second.
The most recent of my life-altering events occurred last night (technically, early this morning), when I saw Jay for the last time between now and Thanksgiving. Yes, the dreaded day has come and he's off to Wilamett, a small liberal arts college in Salem, Oregon.
A bit of background, on the off chance that anyone is actually reading this: Jay Fabian is my boyfriend of two years and counting. We officially got together on May 3, 2006. We were both sophomores in high school. He transferred into my PE class in September of that year. He was originally introduced as Chris' friend, Chris being one of those in our original PE group, and Heather's (my best friend's) soon-to-be BF. The four of us formed our own little group-within-a-group, which continues to this day. Heather and Chris (now known as Chrisandheather, á la Zits, or simply Creather) became an Item in February. Several months later, one Saturday at the annual Apple Blossom Parade, Jay and I randomly ran into each other, as my younger brother and his younger sister were both marching in the high school band. We went back to his house, which is closer to the parade route than mine, and watched FLCL, aka Fooly Cooly, for the first time. I thought that that was when things were going to go down, but apparently FLCL had sufficiently fried both our brains to the point that nothing did. We officially became a couple the following Tuesday, during the study period known as Tutorial. And the rest is history.
We're both otaku, creative types, misanthropic, love Joss Whedon and Blade of the Immortal, and hate spicy food. I love him very, very much, and I don't know what I'm going to do without him for three months. The longest we've ever been separated was three weeks, the summer before last, when he was on a cross-country family trip. That time, he got back early (the day before my birthday), unbeknownst to me. On my sixteenth birthday, he showed up at my door, unannounced, with roses. I kind of tackled him. XD
Oh, well, at least our last night together was a memorable one. We were trying to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but the disc was having some serious issues, so we had to watch the last episode online. But the only place we could find it was some Vietnamese site that took forever to load, so a 40 minute episode became a two hour investment. We'd let it load until it had about 10 or 15 minutes of screen time, play it, then get a snack or just talk while we waited for the next bit to load. All I can say is, thank Goddess for Arizona iced tea! I was enormously sleepy (I'd had a busy day), and I seriously don't know how I could have stayed awake without it.
We finally got done some time after midnight, then headed down to the shed. I call it a shed, but it's completely refurbished, until it looks something like a rather minimalistic rec room. It's where anyone in our family goes when they do not want to be disturbed, and where I usually go with Jay. I'll leave the next hour or so up to your imagination. ;)
Anyway, after that, Jay had to go. He and his parents were driving up to Salem, making a two-day trip out of it. It was 1:30 AM by that point, and his regular curfew is 11:00 PM, but we were both thinking that his parents and mine would be a little lenient, at least for tonight. I had promised myself that I wouldn't cry when he left, but damn if I didn't break down. At least I found out that he was as cut up about this as I was. I remember thinking that he was going to be all stoic about it, like he usually is about emotional issues, but I looked up at him (have I mentioned that he's at least eight inches taller than me?), and I saw the light shining off a tear trail down his face... Dammit, I'm making myself tear up again just thinking about it. I sent him off with a little housewarming gift, a good fortune dragon scroll with a little brass bell hanging off it. After he left, I cried myself to sleep and woke up late, groggy, and puffy-eyed this morning.
But on to happier news: earlier that day, I finally got my driver's license! I was incredibly nervous, seeing as how I had kind of a bad experience last time. The instructor kept calling me "hon", barely said a word, and was just generally was cold and unsympathetic. I failed that time, for making a left turn from a lane reserved for traffic going straight. But this time it was completely different. My instructor was FREAKIN' AWESOME!!! He reminded me of Mr. Regan (known to his minions by his first name, Vance), our high school band director. He was *very* cool. Nice, funny, and easygoing. Asked if I had any questions beforehand, apologized for making me wait, chatted a bit on the drive, and on the backing up part of the test, when I was sure I had failed for touching the curb, he said that not only was it ok as long as I didn't ride the curb, and he let me look forward and check my mirrors, which my teacher said was completely taboo!
I took my first solo drive today. It started out horrifying, but got easier as time went by. I went to the library first (of course I forgot to return the books), and while I was working there, I realized that I had left the car unlocked with my cell phone inside, so I was envisioning all sorts of nightmare scenarios, but it all worked out okay. I then went all the way into Santa Rosa for my English class (more on that later). I took the freeway there and back, despite my mom's trepidations, and arrived home in one piece, although there were some fairly dicey moments when I was trying to pull out of a tight parking space, and I realized that not only was I within six inches of sideswiping somebody's SUV, but that I was blocking both lanes. Eeek.
Third life-changing event: as you might have picked up, my first semester as a worldly college student have started! The campus is just *beautiful* (the main campus, anyway), and I'm finding my way around with a fair amount of ease now. I only have one class, English 1A, on Tuesdays and Thursdays until early September, when Library 10 starts. I begin to fear that it is Dummy Freshman English, but I'm too deeply embroiled to quit now. Or maybe it's just that we're reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn instead of something more to my taste. I guess Ms. Fadave spoiled me with her archaic literature. Our professor, Dr. Wakefield, is ok. Seems kind of vague and scholarly, but then again, that's the best kind.
My other classes are Counseling 10, Math 10 and Beginning Judo. Counseling 10 is the very definition of the gentle freshman get-adjusted-to-college course.
I was originally enrolled in Math 9, because I thought that was the easiest math class. Boy-howdy, was I wrong. I come in, sit down, and he starts talking about statistics and finance. Apparently, Math 9 is for business majors and other people who actually like math. But I transferred into Math 10, which is defined as a math course for those who plan on majoring in liberal arts. Basically, math for people who hate math. Mom calls it Math for Poets. It has a lot of very interesting material on logic and history. For the first time in recorded history, I can say that I like my math class.
Beginning Judo is probably my favorite class so far, if it weren't for all the sit-ups and push-ups we have to do. It was more than 24 hours ago, and I'm still sore. Oh, well. If this keeps up, I'm going to be in *amazing* shape by the time Jay gets back. But getting back on topic... I love everything about the class. I love the ceremony and tradition, I love getting to speak Japanese, I love the gi, I love the fact that Chrisandheater are in it with me, and I love the instructors. The sensei, especially. Her name is Destinee Tartuffe. She's a smallish, spare woman in her mid-to-late forties. She looks tough and rangy, but you really get a sense of how powerful she is when she yells. Drill sergeants and artillery commanders must train for *years* to get the kind of "you will shut up and listen to me if you know what's good for you" bellow. When she yells "MATTE!" she's doing so with the conviction that she knows about twenty ways to dislocate our arms if we don't stop at that precise second.
