I Can Type.

Surgeon visit was today. I should never look at a picture and assume the person will look that good, because he didn't. The surgeon wasn't nearly as hot as the picture presumed he was.

Oh, well. There were better things to worry about today. I'm getting surgery on the 15th of January. I will be in a CAST for 6 weeks.

Mom and I about this point were giving each other terrified looks of, "Holy hell. Cast 6 weeks. Might as well take the semester off if that's going on."

But then the surgeon said something that was music to my ears. "You will be able to type."

HA! So what if there's a cast? So what if I'm in it for 6 weeks? If I can type, then my problems are fairly well solved. My whole PROBLEM with this thing was not being able to function in school for 6 weeks.

I only expressed several dozen worries about other stupid things:

1. How do I wear a shirt with a cast on from elbow to wrist?
2. Middle of winter here. Freezing cold. How do I wear a COAT?
3. Showering?
4. Writing on it?
5. My major worry, being me: What if I clonk someone with it?

Of course, these problems will probably fix themselves along the way, but STILL.

I went to the orthodontist and as I had thought, the damn retainer didn't need fixing. I only snapped the right lower back section off of it and it didn't need anything. I knew this already. If I lived with the problem for 6 months already then it was probably fine.

SO, that was my long and tiring day away. Talk to y'all soon.

Ta,
Bec

Home Today, Gone Tomorrow

So my last two days at home have been uneventful. The tree is lying in the middle of the living room floor, dropping needles everywhere on the carpet. Dad hasn't gotten round to putting it up yet.

I wrapped up my presents to everyone else yesterday.

They're all going to church-I went last night.

Spritey's throwing a fit in the kennel because she senses that she's getting left out of something again. She refuses to let this slide, and so she's complaining for everyone to hear.

Between the minty hippos, the rubber chicken up in the living room light fixture, the stuffed tiger with elf ears, and Anna stressing out over small things that really don't matter that much, I think I may have gone off into the Twilight Zone.

Oh, and forgot to mention that I kicked butt at Yahtzee yesterday, despite the outward appearance that I was losing half the time.

Gotta go. Spritey's "talking" in the kennel and what's she's saying isn't very nice.

Ta,
Bec

Who Schedules Finals At 8 IN THE MORNING?

Since I'm leaving town at a ridiculously early hour after an even earlier final, this is my last entry from Eau Claire. I'll try and write from home tomorrow, if Mom lets me. I'm about to go in the FRAGILE-DON'T DROP box and I'm not looking forward to it.

Ta,
Bec

Arguing

8:00 AM: I start a fight by daring to call just as the clinic is opening. I get information on who I was supposed to see in the first place and who I'm supposed to be seeing now. They're both busy. I get told to call back at 11:30.

Argument 1: Tie. I get some of what I want but not everything. They rope me into calling them back later.

11:30 AM: I finally got through to the hand surgeon's nurse, and we spend 15 minutes negotiating like warring countries on a truce line. It turns out that the hand surgeon is gone on vacation exactly when I want stuff done. Oh, well. How about consultation? I can't do today, and he can't do Thursday or Friday. Can we do Monday? Not that early, buddy. Not 9 in the morning. How about 11? 11 is perfect.

So, having wrangled a peace treaty with the God of Schedules, we agreed and broke for drinks and cocktails. At least the doctor is good-looking...

Argument 2: Tie again. I get some of what I want but still not everything. They get me next week, asking a bucketload of questions and demanding to know when I'll be back to normal.

Oh, and to add to the FUN, the hand surgeon might not be able to do my surgery till the 13TH of January. That leaves me 10 DAYS to start getting back to normal before second semester starts.

Aren't we going to have a jolly time?

I have sworn that if Mr. Cute Hand Surgeon can't do the job when I want it done, I will gladly go to Mr. Not Cute Hand Surgeon and HE can do it.

Let me put it this way:

A) I am not a pushover.
B) I want results.
C) Preferably by the end of the year.
D) I don't care how cute he is, if he can't do the surgery when I need it done, due to my crazy psycho college lifestyle (filled with smoking, drinking, and jumping into the iced-over river at 2 in the morning) then I will go get the Highschool History Teacher Lookalike to do it.

Ta,
Bec

One Day To Go

Having migrated a final from Friday to Tuesday (and going through a lot to get it there) I found out today that the surgeon I was supposed to consult with on Friday wants me to see somebody else. My appointment has been cancelled.

Yay me. I get out of here a day early and I don't even have a reason for it anymore.

Bought one more Christmas present today and I'm getting the last one tomorrow morning.

Still hurting, of course, and not much else is going on so night.

Ta,
Bec

Lazy Sunday

Spent most of the day with a friend, and we watched movies all day. I'm tired and of course, still achy, so I'm going to take some painkillers and go to sleep.

Ta,
Bec

Sore

I can tell the cortisone shot is wearing off now. My pain's getting a little worse every day. Figures. I'll be in a right state by next week.

Nothing happened today. Nothing. Boring, boring, boring.

That's it. Wrist hurts again. Stupid painkillers don't work anymore.

Ta,
Bec

Rather Quiet Day

Compared to the last two wild, crazy, manic days, this one was fairly quiet. Not much is going on in the world. I'm listening to The Rasmus and getting the crap scared out of me by the music...didn't expect violins.

David Tennant's spine is fixed and he's getting back to normal. He went and slipped a disc last week and they've just put him back together. I sent him a get-well message via forum board. His understudy apparently is managing things all right, but then again the poor guy isn't David Tennant and that's causing there to be some empty seats at the theater. People had their tickets to Hamlet to see David Tennant and aren't showing up for the performances where he's not. I'd still go see Patrick Stewart and Oliver Ford Davies...they're there, too!

My wrist is aching from the typing so that's all I have to report.

Ta,
Bec

And the Verdict IS:

YES.

I DID tear something. My triangular fibrocartilage is torn (see helpful picture above) and needs repairing. Hand surgeon appointment is next week Friday.

I'm not really too freaked out; I sort of knew this was coming.

Au revoir Christmas break...and Winterim class...and an actual vacation...

Ta,
Bec

Nothing Yet

It's nearly 11 at night, my wrist is killing me due to a backup of fluid on the back of my hand, and there's no report yet.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Ta,
Bec

Tomorrow Morning

I have to get up at a ridiculous hour for my appointment tomorrow. Joyous.

I have a story to edit and I should get started (hint: I should have ALREADY started but I was watching Hyacinth climbing over a wall in a fancy dress and a hat trying to avoid Elizabeth finding out where her sisters really live (dirty council estate-shameful to Hyacinth's eyes.) Can you blame me?)

I should go work on this thing.

Ta,
Bec

Ree-Chard!

Currently watching British comedy and laughing my ass off. The lead character, Hyacinth, reminds me very much of my hypochondriac, oblivious grandmother. She terrifies everyone and is always trying to be something she's not, even when she's busy being humiliated by her family and everyone else around her.

Her husband is long-suffering. Poor Richard. She couldn't have been so bad when he married her, otherwise he wouldn't have. She's stuffy and oblivious and nasty.

Plus she looks like my grandmother. Even dresses like her. It's terrifying and funny all at the same time.

I didn't get anything done today, despite my resolution to finish stuff this weekend. I am really, really going to have to push it tomorrow to finish some of this stuff so I can have an easier week.

I will pay for my laziness. This I swear.

Ta,
Bec

One Hell of A Thursday

SO, we start off the day at 8 AM. I am supposed to call the radiology dept. to ask them if I can eat and tell them I have a tattoo on that wrist.

But I wind up the phone call by having my MRI moved all the way over to WEDNESDAY of next week (the tech who does the contrast dye is GONE) and feeling excessively angry about everything in life. I called Wausau and let them know that things had gone screwy, then I called Mom and let HER know that things had gone screwy.

By 8:30, the good mood that I'd woken up with had evaporated.

My cup was cracked at breakfast, dripping drink out the bottom of the glass. I nearly slipped on the ice on the way into the science hall.

Arthur Dent, I feel your pain. I, too, don't get the hang of Thursdays.

That and the BRACE is itching and I want to take it off again, but I know better because even a few minutes without it and my arm begins to ache.

Allow me ten seconds of hatred for the thing...

i hate this brace i hate this brace
iwant to rip it into little pieces
and toss them in the river...

ah.

i feel better.

back to what I was saying. My appt. has been moved to next week Wednesday at an ungodly hour of the morning. I am not happy about this, not in the least, but what can I do about it?

Meanwhile, I have to wear this thing another 6 days. Oi.

Not much else to say. I have to get doing other things, so I'll write again soon.


Ta,
Bec

Braced And Bitter

I hate this brace.

I have been wearing it three hours.

I want to rip this thing off and toss it in the river ASAP, no matter how nice it makes my left hand feel.

I'm thinking of switching to the lighter brace so I can move my fingers again, even if the lighter brace is less supportive and therefore makes me less comfortable.

The heavy-duty brace that I wear all day has a piece of hard plastic in it to keep my wrist from bending. That's just wonderful when your fingers bend all screwy to compensate. This brace is sort of clunky and people tend to notice it really quickly.

The lighter one is less conspicuous, but has no plastic in it. It's a soft brace that's a lot more comfortable to wear because it sort of bends with my movements, but it doesn't offer as much support as the other one does.

I suppose, seeing as I'm going to be stuck in these two braces for awhile, that I'll wear the heavy all day and the lighter one at night when I go to bed. I don't need the rigid support at night and I want more support during the daytime, so that'll work out.

My hand is starting to tire, so I gotta quit typing now.

Ta,
Bec

Apparently I'm Tearing It Up...Again

So, I went to see my rheumatologist yesterday. She says that no, my arthritis is not coming back.

No, she thinks that genius me has fully torn my partially torn ligament on the far left side of my left wrist.

This means I have an MRI next Thursday. Depending on what it shows, I will have to have surgery to repair the torn ligament-or not, if it's still a partial.

This would be my second torn ligament in the last four years-the last one being when I tripped coming down the stairs and landed kerblam on my right leg.

I don't play sports-if you know me, you know why. Bella Swan (from Twilight) and I have that much in common.

The only thing I do a lot of is type...which might explain the sudden change in my ligament tear. I aggravated the situation.

If I have surgery, this is going to screw so many things up. I'm already trying to think of the things I need to finish if and when I wind up with only one working hand.

That's about it. I'll try and write again tomorrow, but it is kind of painful to type and so these are going to be short entries.

Ta,
Bec

PS: I must add this, a truly funny incident that's happened since I got home.

I have two dogs back home with completely different personalities-Spritey, who's afraid of nothing and Whisper, who's afraid of everything.

Whisper has gotten a new fear, along with vacuums, brooms, rain, and cars. She's now afraid of the smoke alarm. Or the noise that it makes.

Yesterday my sister was cooking pumpkin pies and the oven needs cleaning so there was a bit of smoke as the stuff in the bottom burned and smoked off. This set the smoke alarm off...and Whisper then proceeded to tremble in fear for the next TEN minutes.

So, I disabled the smoke alarm. Pulled the batteries. Thought we were good.

Then this morning I go to put the batteries back INTO the thing so it's working again, and since I'm in the living room with the dog three feet away, it has to make one plaintive, stupid BEEP as the batteries go back into it.

Whisper trembled for ten minutes again, and I've spent the rest of the morning apologizing for scaring the daylights out of her.

Ridiculous. She's terrified of a BEEP?

Thanksgiving

Mine was a rather quiet Thanksgiving. I hung out with the fam and some other people. It was good.

Doctor's appointment tomorrow. We'll see how many prescriptions I come away with this time.

Both dogs are giving me curious looks-not sure why. Spritey probably wants food while Whisper looks like she wants to listen to what I'm listening to.

Watching old reruns of "Newhart" and remembering that I have known the theme song by heart since I was 4. God, I feel old.

So, I'll report back from the trenches tomorrow.

Ta,
Bec

Just Like Last Year, I'm Waiting

As I sit here listening to Scottish bagpipes wail the Scottish national anthem, I ponder when in hell my father is going to get here.

There's a certain loveliness to the bagpipes, but it's an acquired thing, I believe. Some people can't fathom why anyone would want to hear that sort of pitch in a piece of music. I'm not Scottish, but I like them. And not just because David Tennant is Scottish. That's not it at all.

I believe I'm ready to go. I don't think I can pack anymore in my bag, anyway. Now I'm just waiting to be stuffed into the car with my sisters and Dad.

Oh the joy of holidays! No extended family to deal with and four days of being crammed in the house with my mother and sisters. I will come back with scratches, dents, dings, or other injuries sustained while living/coping/being around immediate family.

Anna will start in with Sara, I'll start in on Anna, Mom will start in on me, and it might end with one of us stuffed headfirst into a turkey carcass and covered in cranberries. Or it could end with Death by Cornbread Stuffing.

Love is in the air, as long as I leave enough chocolates for everyone else and refrain from going mad on the pumpkin pie (Dad's fave. He'd kill for it).

As long as no one chokes on their roll and forces me to do the Heimleich, we're good. I had CPR training certification once, only given to me because I got strapped to a backboard during practice with the toys and couldn't get off of the table I was lying on. You try moving when your arms and legs are splinted down and your neck's in a neck brace, with your head bandaged down.

I was lying there, yowling for help from someone and they were all off playing with the mannequins and the rat poison. Pay no never mind to the poor person lying half MUMMIFIED on the table...

They felt sorry for me, I believe, as I wasn't that good at anything CPR related. And then I spent the entire year I was certified thinking someone was going to attempt to die in front of me and I would have to be the one to save them.

Luckily, if someone tried it now, I could claim that I was years out of practice and that would prompt someone who knew what the hell they were doing to do it instead. Not that I wouldn't save someone if I was the only person, but I'd be terrified of screwing it up. And yes, I know about the Good Samaritan law.

So, having wandered totally off topic, my sister just told me they'll be here in about an hour. Joy.

Ta,
Bec

Getting Ready For The Holiday

I've forgotten to tell you this, so I'm telling you now: I am not spending Thanksgiving with my relatives.

Surprise!

Aunt Wanda has gone to her mother's, leaving the rest of them to go to Tanya's.

If you recall, I would rather have a lot of offensive, rude things done to my physical form than go anywhere near her house. You couldn't pay/bribe me enough to make me go.

But great minds think alike-Mom thinks like me. She hates Dad's relatives, too. Therefore, we're staying in town and we're going to the church Thanksgiving thing. Mom doesn't cook. Dad doesn't have to drive halfway to Florida for the second day in a row, and I don't have to suffer with my relatives for another MONTH.

How relieved was I? I was thanking deities I didn't believe existed for the blessing they'd bestowed. No Thanksgiving with them this year. Thank you, thank you, thank you...

Today we're one month away from Christmas. I have bought nothing for anyone as of yet, but plans are forming in my wicked, terrible mind...plans that are rather cheap and interesting.

I spent most of tonight playing "Pass the Files" between my computers. When you have two computers like I do, it often becomes difficult to keep the files even. I might write a story on the desktop, but that story might not make it to the laptop for weeks.

I try to keep things even, but it's hard. Seeing as I'm going away from my desktop for a few days, I'm going to need everything I've done thus far from both computers. I updated the laptop with the latest stuff, plus I had to spend nearly an hour getting all of my music from one computer to the other.

I refuse to be without it for an entire 5 days, and seeing as my moods are often unpredictable and my moods correspond with my music choices, I have to be prepared. If I want to hear Sting this weekend, I'm good. If I want to hear Spill Canvas on Saturday morning while washing dishes, I'm in the money. If I want to hear Linkin Park, well, that's a problem. I don't have any Linkin Park. If the whim ever struck (ha) then I'd borrow my sister's CD's.

My laptop and my USB storage device are still working on one last thing for me tonight, and then I'll go to bed. I get to sleep in tomorrow; my first prof of the day cancelled class tomorrow morning.

So, night everyone. I'll try and write from home.

Ta,
Bec

Flying Lenses

As I was walking along to breakfast this morning, I felt my left eye go bouncing off in front of me.

Well, it happened to be my glasses lens (thanks to all the powers that it was plastic). It went airborne and hockey-pucked across the sidewalk in front of me.

I thought I'd lost my screw that holds the lens in, figured I would never find it. Too damn small. So I went back to the dorm I'd just left the minute before, dug out the eyeglass repair kit from my stuff, found that the screw was merely loose and not out of the glasses.

Two twists of the skinny little screwdriver from the kit and the lens was secured back into the glasses, never to fly again. Ta-dah.

But it took me ten minutes to do all this because I couldn't really SEE the problem, and by the time I got OUT of the dorm for the second time this morning I was down to about five minutes to inhale my breakfast (instead of fifteen to actually taste it) and skedaddle to class.

Arthur Dent had trouble with Thursdays. I'm setting the record for issues with Monday.

So, I'm sitting in class. Today was presentation day. Those who'd made it into the top ten of the class had their stories talked about by the teacher.

I was in the top ten but merely suspected that I would be 8 or 9 or even 10...but I wound up being Number ONE.

I was shocked. ME? NUMBER ONE?

I got a nice book for being number one and I had my story read aloud to the entire class. I had to try not to gloat. That was difficult.

I also received an A on my apparently brilliant story. Hee hee. An A. Haven't seen one of those in a while.

Well, I have to get back to getting ready for the next class, so I'll write more later if anything happens.

Ta,
Bec

Saturday

Submitted my stuff for the Sigma Tau Delta Convention in the spring. We're the hosts, seeing as we're the closest chapter to the Twin Cities. If I get in, I get published again and I get into the convention free of charge because I'll be presenting my stuff there.

My sense of taste barely works right now. That's a little frustrating.

Saw Twilight. It was awesome. Go see it because I'm not saying anything save that Jasper didn't get enough screen time...and that Edward's sparkles rocked.

Still a little sick, though I'm on the mend. Only three days next week, so things should be easier.

Lots to do, so I have to go!

Ta,
Bec

I Can't Taste This Stupid Rice

So, I'm still sick. Hating every minute of it. I have no energy to do anything.

I haven't eaten all day so I'm eating out of my food here, as my legs feel like little wooden pillars.

But I can't taste it. It's like I'm eating air. It has no flavor, at all, whatsoever.

When I called Mom tonight, she mistook me for her brother. She thought Uncle Dan was prank-calling her. Turns out it was little old me, sounding like I've dropped from the altos to the tenors and onward down to the basses.

I woke up at 4 this morning and felt like I was drowning in ice water. Having finally gotten some oxygen and gotten warm again I dozed off until 7 when I woke up thinking I'd joined a desert commune.

I have a Powerpoint presentation tomorrow, but I don't know if I'll even have a voice to actually GIVE it.

So, tomorrow night is Twilight. I have my cough drops ready. I am prepared.

And now, for a moment of fan freakout. Please look away if you don't want to be reminded how crazy I am...

Ta,
Bec



GO TEAM EDWARD!

NO TO FUR, YES TO VENOM!

I LIKE MY MEN STONE-COLD, SPARKLING, AND THIRSTY.

EDWARD-YOU ARE MY BRAND OF HEROIN (sigh)

HE'S NOT MEAN, HE JUST LOOKS THAT WAY WHEN THERE'S TASTY HUMANS AROUND.

HAVE A BIT MORE BEAR, EMMETT?

It Wasn't The Cough That Carried Her Off, It Was the Coffin They Carried Her Off In...

Ah, cold season. I managed to miss it last year because I was in a different hemisphere.

It appears that this year I will not be so lucky. I'm sick with a cough and I hate it.

At least this one's minor. Nothing big. Should blow over by Thursday.

Wrist is fine as long as I don't push it too far.

And oh, Cassie, if you're reading this (and I assume you are) I met that guy I just friended on Facebook last summer and someone fairly reliable said that he thought I was hot. How could I pass up such an obviously off-the-wall person? His head is clearly not on straight, should I not set it right for him, out of pure human kindness? So I sent a message that said hey, and he friended me.

THREE DAYS TO TWILIGHT PREMIERE!

Attack of the Killer Tomatoes

So, I started on my Powerpoint on tomatoes. It's due on Thursday; I thought I'd get a start on it (mostly because my brain will be stuck in Twilight mode after Wednesday and I won't be able to process anything that has to do with schoolwork).

Anyway, for research purposes alone, I watched the only movie where tomatoes are the lead actors. And yes, Attack of the Killer Tomatoes is a REAL movie that came out in 1978.

I didn't regret it. Damned funny. This was definitely worth watching. I'm going to have to keep this one around, at least so Dad can watch it. And maybe Anna and Sara, too. It's stupid, it's ridiculous, the tomatoes growl and gargle when they come after people but I was still laughing.

Wrist is better but not completely back. Gets a little better every day, so I expect probably by the middle of this week it'll be back to normal.

That's it. Not anything massive going on. Bought my midnight showing ticket for Twilight.

FOUR DAYS TO GO!

Ta,
Bec

I've Been Shot!

Yeah, I got fed up entirely, went to see my rheumatologist here, and got my first-ever dose of cortisone in the wrist bones of my hand. The injection is a dose of steroids right into the part where I need them most. It's supposed to take out the inflammation within hours of being given, and I'm already noticing a difference in my pain.

That said, the area where the shot was given hurts now, so the pain has moved out of my fingers and into my wrist. That should clear up in a little while, and I'll feel better.

It was either the shot in the hand or the pills again. I went for the faster solution this time, as I'm seeing my regular rheumatologist in two weeks time.

I'm still hurting a little tonight, so I'll sign off.

Ta,
Bec

In A Serious Amount Of Pain Here

My left hand is so bad that even gentle pressure makes me yelp. Fingers on the left are twice as big as the other ones. Anything I try to do seems to add to the problem. I'm so disabled without painkillers it's almost ludicrous.

Glad tomorrow's Friday. Then I can rest.

Bone scan was nothing. Easy stuff. Mum and Dad were down; it was nice to see them but Mom spent the whole day helping me with stuff (bit embarrassing).

That's it. Typing one-handed is so hard.

Ta,
Bec

Can't Wait Till Tomorrow

Pluses:

I'm seeing Mom and Dad tomorrow.
I'm getting help again tomorrow.
Someone ELSE can help me lift the laundry downstairs tomorrow.

Minuses:
I do not have a sharp, useful machete to chop off my left hand with.
No painkillers prescribed tomorrow. I am on my own, baby.
Mom and Dad are going to fuss over me like a couple of old biddies.

My hand is now so sore that even the hot water in the sink hitting it makes it hurt. Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

If it doesn't start behaving itself by Monday of next week I'm going up the hill to see a doctor at Student Health Services. And I don't care what the doctor at the other clinic says. That test tomorrow isn't going to show anything more than the MRI did last summer. He's wasting his time.

I should have told him as much, but I'm not the one who ordered the stupid bone scan after having barely GLANCED at my patient's MRI results that said: Nothing wrong with this kid's fingers, but her wrist has been eaten by evil arthritis germs.

If the bone scan is ANY different from August's little magnetic joy and vivre, I will take back everything I've ever said about the man (well, almost everything).

I'm getting worse by the minute here, so this entry ends here.

Ta,
Bec

Left Hand Out Again (and Stupid Trayless Tuesdays...)

I won't be typing much tonight. My left hand has completely gone anarchist, along with a grape-sized spot on my right shoulder that feels like someone's sticking a knife in my back.

This makes Trayless Tuesday a trouble to survive...oh. I never mentioned Trayless Tuesday, did I?

Hem, hem. Trayless Tuesday was the brainchild of someone in the cafeteria department here at Eau Claire. It involves taking away everyone's trays on Tuesday (we get trays the other 6 days of the week, you see) and leaving people balancing plates and cups and knives and forks and spoons and bowls and banana peels and teabags and whatever else they happen to accumulate while in the cafeteria.

It's called: Some stupid administrator thought it would be not only environmentally friendly, but a real hoot as well to watch the entire cafeteria juggle a bunch of full dishes across a crowded room and over a dozen backpacks, without spilling or dropping said food.

Nobody's been hit in the neck with hot soup yet. Miracles do happen.

And it has the notorious distinction of making Tuesday the most hated day on campus, even for the cafeteria staff (I've overheard their conversations and apparently they hate it as much as we do)

So, how great is it that on another glorious Trayless Tuesday I would be down one hand?

I had to take a couple of trips today, back and forth, instead of tomorrow when I can load it all up on the tray and hold the tray with my mostly working right hand. No, no, no. Today I had to trek back and around and over and through the crowds just to get enough food on my table to stuff in my face.

I burned more calories getting the stuff over there than I got from eating the stuff.

So, in pain. Hate Tuesday more than I ever have before. Stupid administrators and their stupid ideas. At least we get the trays back tomorrow.

Ta,
Bec

Monday, Shmonday

I didn't watch Heroes tonight, so nothing there. I might watch it tomorrow.

No, tonight I was FINALLY getting started on my Capstone, which is sort of the final peg in the English rung. I get this one, and I'll have completed my core courses.

For me, it requires giving them a bunch of old papers from several different classes that I've taken here at Eau Claire and writing a reflection on each one. Good thing I'm a damned packrat. I kept most of the stuff I wrote over the last couple of years...most of it.

That is to say, there is ONE class that's needed and it's gone mysteriously missing from my stuff. I took English Language three years ago this year and those papers have gone vakooshka. I have no idea where they've gone.

I MIGHT get lucky though. I seem to remember having a hard copy of one paper from that class in particular buried someplace back at home.

Which is to say, it's buried in an endless stack of folders containing an endless stack of papers. It might never, ever be found.

I do keep things fairly well organized, don't get me wrong. With all the stuff I have saved I have to-otherwise I would never find ANYTHING when I wanted it.

It's just that there's a LOT of stuff in a LOT of folders and finding that one paper in all of that might very well take till next century.

Let's see-there's the folder of good stuff by authors that aren't me, the folder of handwritten stuff by me, the folder of typed stuff by me, the folder with the three lyrics notebooks that will never seen the light of day again, the Eemeda Chronicles, smashed in with Darren Marcus' first draft that will also never see the light of day again, the folder of memories, the binder of awards and such, folder of Stargate fanfics...I might have missed one. I'm not looking at the stack of them at the moment.

You see why this particular search could potentially take forever, although having things organized DOES make the search shorter than it would be (for instance, I know for sure that paper can't be in at least four or five of the folders I just mentioned.)

I'll have a massive folder search during Thanksgiving weekend and see if I can't roust that paper out of hiding. Then I can scan in the paper and write a reflection and bammo, I'll be done. :)

Meantime, I will not be idle. I'll get the others done while I wait for Thanksgiving to roll around. That way I won't be lightyears behind once December hits.

See? It's all peaches and roses and fluffly bunnies! And now my left hand is killing me so I'm apparently done typing this entry.

Ta,
Bec

2nd Verse, Same as the First...

Things are not looking very good these days for me. On Tuesday, the rheumatologist I swore I'd never go see again but had to given my current issues has signed me up for a bone scan next week Thursday. They'll inject a dye, wait three hours, and then scan my hands and wrists so that they can see what the hell is going on in there.

I noticed that the rheumatologist didn't schedule a blood test or any medication. We've been through this once already-nothing ever shows up on the tests and meds are a mess when I'm dealing with two doctors in two different cities.

Things are getting worse by the day here. I'm noticing a distinct lack of coordination in my fingers, my elbows are aching again, my shoulders hurt, there's heat coursing through every single joint in my hands along with little zings of pain here and there, the swelling's coming back, and I can't make a fist without wincing.

Welcome to Round 2. Also known as : And I Thought We Were Past All This.

I'm trying to not get angry and trying not to get upset-doesn't help much. But it's hard. I had two months of really feeling fantastic and feeling great...and now this happens.

But I am tired. I am tired of tests and needles, the constant heat and pain in my fingers and elbows, the rheumatologists trying everything they've got to control whatever this is.

I want answers. I want medicine. I don't want to keep having tests that say negative and pain that doesn't mean anything and not knowing what the bloody hell is going on in there.

I'm sorry if I sound negative, but this has gone on long enough. You'd be fed up too if you'd been stuck with needles and given loads of tests and hurt and hurt and hurt till you screamed but nobody could tell you anything. You'd be mad, angry, and frustrated...and I think I'm handling this rather well at the moment.

I've got to go to bed and find a comfortable position to try and sleep in.

Ta,
Bec

Can't Believe It's Real

I stayed up to watch it all go down last night, and I can tell you I didn't think I'd be sitting here typing in the dark and saying we have a new president already.

But we do. It was over so fast last night I didn't have time to process it. Our new president is Barack Obama.

I watched Jesse Jackson in the crowds in Chicago last night, crying because a black man had won. It's never been done before and Obama steamrollered McCain right into conceding.

He's got a lot of work to do. He doesn't get time to sit on his laurels. But I have to say, I'm really glad it was him that won. McCain supporters were still booing Obama even during the concession speech. Obama's supporters cheered when McCain's name went up (even if it was kind of quiet).

1968 was the year Martin Luther King, Jr. died, so it seems fitting that 40 years later a black man would win the race to the White House. If King were still around, he would be crying tears of joy.

I can only hope now that the man I and a lot of other people elected can do the job we hired him for, that his inexperience will turn into wisdom and that his work will start to turn things around for everyone.

God bless the new president. I will be watching on Inauguration Day, and praying that he does a good and fair job for all of us.

Bec Koshak

I'm Glad It's Almost Over

Hopefully within 24 hours of this writing (hell, it had better be 12) every sign, every poster, every commercial, every radio ad, and every single thing dealing with things like ELECTIONS or OBAMA or MCCAIN or BIDEN or PALIN or anything else having to do with POLITICS will go away.

I am sick to death of it. I want it over. I want it all gone. I voted early this morning, so let it be DONE now. Pull up the signs, pull the commercials, take out the ads in the newspapers and on the radio. Call it. It's over. The war for votes has ended. Those dummies who A) can't make up their minds or B) refuse to should stuff it now and go vote in the damned election.

I'm all for the democratic process but this has been going on nigh two years. TWO. FRELLING. YEARS.

I, of course, voted for Obama. I'm not much for spreading my political opinion much (would be why I haven't brought it up here before) but I decided a long time ago to vote for whoever offended me the least. And McCain offended me just by his pose in some of the debates, by the look on his face when Obama would speak, and for his choice of the governor of Alaska...

All right, I'm taking off the gloves now.

Frankly, Palin terrifies me. She muddles through questions that I could have answered better. She's already got a scandal going on. She seems to have some colloquialism to her speech that I wouldn't have dared bring to something as serious as a presidential race. And she thinks she's got foreign policy experience by being positioned next to Russia (I have more foreign policy experience with my four months abroad in England, Ireland, and Italy.)

I honestly can't see why McCain picked her when he could have picked so many other people to do the job, especially when his own health isn't very good and he could potentially leave HER running this country...ooh. That freaks me out.

McCain himself seems like your typical Republican-grumpy, angry, bitter, and he doesn't win points with me by having voted with Bush so often. Bush has been a pretty bad president and voting with him most, if not all of the time, doesn't sit well with me.

But Obama seems like an honest guy (well, as honest as politicians can ever be). He seems like he actually wants to help people instead of just wanting the power, prestige, money, and historical thumping power that he'll get if he wins this thing tonight.

And on top of that, he voted against the damn war we're in in Iraq. I protested the war before it got started (stood on the sidewalk and got obscenities screamed at me out of barely cracked car windows), so I would go for someone who thought the same thing I did at the time.

I still protest this war; still hate it, but now I stay away from anti-war rallies because now that it's popular to be anti-war, now everybody is, and the loonies who have joined the anti-war movement have turned me off protests.

So, hopefully Obama wins tonight. I think we need someone with new ideas in the presidency, and even with his inexperience I think he's capable of learning quickly and thinking on his feet.

Besides, McCain can barely stand on his without a walker.

Ta,
Bec

Boy, Am I Bored In Here

Math class is dragging today, probably because every cell in my body wants to go running for the door.

This week is going to be a long one. Today is dull. Tomorrow is Election Day, plus I go to the doctor and I meet some people for dinner. Wednesday I have to turn in a paper. Thursday there's a couple of meetings. Friday as far as I know there's nothing.

No Heroes tonight; they're having a special for the election instead.

35 minutes to freedom. To quote Lenny Kravitz, I want to get away, I wanna fly away...

Not much else to say!

Ta,
Bec

Doing Better

I'm doing better as far as my emotional state goes. I'm almost accepting...no. Not going to even mention it.

My fingers are kind of aching this morning so this is going to a short entry. Don't worry-I'm seeing the doctor on Tuesday afternoon, and we'll find out if it's cold or something else. I hope it's cold. At least I can deal with that. If the arthritis is coming back...no. Not even going to mention it.

I'm not mentioning Thanksgiving, either. It might make me break out in a rash.

Gotta go do stuff and get these hands working.

Ta,
Bec

(scream of suppressed rage and suffering)

DAVID TENNANT'S QUIT WHO!

AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH!

Okay.

Chill.

Calm.

Placid.


Yeah, I woke this morning and found out he's leaving next year. There were initially tears of grief and sadness, but I understand more than most people that that's the nature of the beast. Time for a new guy. This could be interesting.

But that DOESN'T mean that in the INTERVENING YEAR I can't throw a fit about it.

So there. Now you're going to have to listen to me gripe about it until next Christmas when Number Ten dies a horrible death and morphs into Number Eleven, whoever he may be.

Please God don't let them hire Russell Brand. I'll die myself if Brand becomes Eleven. Nononononononono.

Pick good, Moffat. Pick good. Don't pick a wank or a loser or a drinker or an ass. We don't need a repeat of Six's short tenure, thank you very much.

Ta,
Bec

A Bit Down

So I called my mother yesterday, and proved yet again that I can't shut my mouth.

My fingers have been twinging lately, more than usual. It's probably the cold weather doing it, but me being silly me, I freaked out and now Mom is doing the same...because her idiot eldest was stupid enough to tell her.

Of course Mom, being Mom and a worrier due to being, well, Mom, will fuss and fidget because I went and told her I've been worried.

When will I learn to keep my mouth shut? When? When will I learn to stop flapping my gums and telling Mom of my sneaking suspicions that should be kept safe in my foolish cranium?

So now I have to call her tomorrow and warn her off, or I'll have Dad down here wanting to take me away. Which would be fine, but I was planning on sleeping this weekend. Being home I won't be able to, not if Mom has her way.

Someday, dear group of readers, I will learn to suck it up and shut up.

I've been doing all the things I'm supposed to do when it gets cold. Been keeping the hands warm, wearing hand warmers in the dorm and gloves when I go outside for any length of time.

It may sound like panic, and in some part it is, but last year I had much more trouble with my fingers. I don't particularly want to go back there-it wasn't a pleasant experience. If I keep them warm enough, I should hope I won't 'relapse,' 'step back,' or otherwise 'fall backwards into a pit of clowns, rabid wolverines, cobras, and a couple of yaks.' Whatever they're calling the arthritis coming back these days...

Hopefully my rheumatologist doesn't kill me next month when she finds out they've been aching and I haven't called her up. She might poke me in my sore spots (seeing as she knows exactly where they are).

Otherwise, I've been a bit depressed. I hate winter. I don't like seeing it coming on. I wish it would just snow and get done with it already, so we can have spring again.

Besides, we're less than a month from Thanksgiving...and you all know (if you've been reading) how much I LOVE the holidays (about as much as having toothpicks broken in half and stuffed under my fingernails.)

I'm about to ask for permission to bring the laptop again. It worked well last year; kept me from getting into trouble with people that I would rather have eaten by a Sarlacc.

And now for this year's edition of "How To Survive Thanksgiving: The Basics."

Rules for Thanksgiving Dinner Survival:

1. Sidestep/ignore/temporarily go deaf for all questions concerning romantic relationships.

2. Don't look at cousin's baby. It's ugly. Don't dare look.

3. Say that school is going well and snidely comment that I'm graduating in the spring. Stuff it, Grandma.

4. Don't say previous statement to Grandma if I want to live.

5. Ignore all questions involving health.

6. Grandma does not need to know that I have found out in the last three months that I am
A) going to live
B) am going to be pretty well off and
C) have what my mother has and
D) Grandma can't get it by hugging me or anything like that seeing as this syndrome is genetically transferred and I got it through the other side of the family, from MOM'S side. Not through her. Not through Dad.

The Koshaks may be responsible for a lot of the misery in my short and tired existence, but they can't take the blame for this and Grandma isn't sick with it, no matter how much she longs to be.

6E. Don't comfort in her anguish when she figures out she can't get this one, either.

6F. Suggest that she go play with the raccoons and squirrels outside and give herself rabies, thereby giving her something to actually complain about (either foaming at the mouth or a needle in the stomach).

7. Do not get Uncle Greg into political discussion, because I will end up shrugging my shoulders and looking stupid.

8. Run screaming from the room if anyone actually dares suggest making amends with certain bitchy cousins. No frelling way.

9. Don't pay attention to how much or how little I eat, only speak to people who have treated me nicely in the past, ignore the people I hate, ignore the people I dislike, hell, ignore those who don't speak to me first.

10. Keep reminding them how intelligent I am because they've most likely forgotten in their quest to be mean and nasty and just generally their bitchy, nasty selves.

That should do it. Should keep me alive next month when I need it.

Ta,
Bec

I'm Tired

I'm tired. No Heroes report tonight. Sorry.

It's middle of semester and I'm getting enough sleep but it just doesn't help with the tiredness. I need a weekend where I actually can lay in bed and not move. Fat Chance.

Ta, everyone.

Bec

A Truck, An Idiot, And A Bridge.

This is a take from an earlier entry, but folks, it has happened AGAIN.

Yup. another dang blasted IDIOT has smoked the overhead Davenport bridge. And lost.

I wrote a story on this the first time it happened after the repair work was done and updated it the second time round. I'll just repost it and save you the trouble of trying to find the entry again.

There is a bridge that goes past the paper mill in Rhinelander. It has seen many accidents in its time; so much that it was legendary among city residents.

Six months ago, the railroad company and the federal transportation guys decided after yet another accident involving semis and this bridge, that they would fix it, as it was now deemed to be unsafe.

So they reinforced it with steel beams. They painted it with stripes. They put up signs every 5 feet. They even decorated it with little flashing lights.

When it was all finished, we citizens thought, “Yes. This bridge is perfect. No one will ever hit it again, not with stripes and lights and signs aplenty…”

But ah, just yesterday, August 16th, 2006, somebody did. Somebody hit the bridge that was supposed to be un-hittable. How the semi driver blew through the signs, the stripes, AND the flashing lights…well, the spokesman said it must have been negligence.

The bridge survived the smack, but one of the little flashing lights was broken. The steel beams were a little scratched.

One can only wonder what happens to the semi driver from here: laughed at by city officials and railroad technicians because how in heaven’s name could he have hit THAT bridge, the one decorated with doodads to prevent exactly this kind of accident occurring. His boss laughing him right out to the Unemployment office, because any boss who’d let him drive after this is insane. And everyone in the city of Rhinelander laughing at him because boy, he must have been missing a few bolts in HIS bridge…

Personally, I wouldn’t let this guy drive a go-kart. How BLIND would you have to be to knock into the one bridge in Rhinelander that was recently made impossible to hit?

Apparently, I underestimated the idiocy of truck drivers going through Rhinelander, because it's happened AGAIN. 4 days ago, some genius trucker hit the bridge.

Oct 8th, 2008: Dumbass Number 3 went under the bridge, of course, and in the paper there's a lovely picture of what used to be a decent looking truck. It now looks like its had a tinfoil explosion out the backside (that would be the roof of the truck, neatly draping down to the ground in a cascade of destructed metal).

The guy supposes he might lose his job. YA THINK?

Some residents propose lowering it. Can't. Trains go through there to the paper mill, and the fact that the street is probably inches above the water line that close to the river (which IS about 100 feet away) would mean you can't lower the sucker anyway or risk having it underwater. You can't close it down-people on the west side of town use it as a main artery, and anyway, the paper mill's front doors are RIGHT THERE.

And if lowering the darn thing would help, don't you think after 16 accidents happening there that they WOULD HAVE? Lowering it will not stop them smacking into it-it will only give them cause to blaze through there with BIGGER trucks and smoke it again.

Either the truckers are going to have to get smarter or we're going to have to send out memos.

Three accidents in two years. Two this year. It seems the idiocy continues onwards, despite the NTSB's attempts to stop these fools plowing through a bridge that's too low for them.

Ta,
Bec

And Now The Extreme Left Rallies A War Cry...

Okay, it was almost a month ago (Sept. 27th entry-I checked) that my right knee gave me hell and trouble for about three or four days.

I was doing great today. Feeling the best I've felt in what was probably months if not years.

And now, too late, I remember the Golden Rule of Being Me: Never think that ever because within hours you'll be on your knees praying for mercy again.

So here I am again, and this time it's the LEFT kneecap looking poofy. I think because it got colder this week that might be the cause, but that doesn't stop this thing from being a bloody nuisance all the time.

Good thing it's the weekend. I can rest up! No fun allowed!

Sigh. Look at me, Ms. Negative. What are the positives of this?

Think.
Think.
Think.

Not any I can think of at the moment, but I'll come up with one. You watch.

Ta,
Bec

Boiling Alive. Freezing to Death. There's A Difference?

The heater in Kate's and my dorm room has gone berserk. It's throwing out heat and throwing out heat, so that we feel like we're residing in the tropics (I should get a palm tree.)

And when we tried to shut the damper on the thing to reduce the amount of heat it's pouring out, we found that the knob is stuck in place (besides the fact that we can't grab it without hot pads)

We have had to have the window open, meaning we're either freezing into blocks of ice or we're boiling like potatoes. Somewhere there's got to be a balance.

Stepping from the hallway into this room is like stepping into a greenhouse. There is that much difference in temperature. I don't notice things (ever) but even I can feel it.

We complained again, and maintenance is coming down today. Most likely they will fix it so we wind up wrapping up in layers for the rest of the winter...but at least we won't be dying of heat stroke.

Finished the Twilight series, even the partial bit of Book 5 that the author posted online. I might go back and read Book 1 again, because now I understand Edward's motives (lunch, mostly) when it comes to Bella in Book 1 (Book 5 is merely the other side of Book 1-his side.)

So, here's to extreme temperature changes. I'm sitting here sweating on my upper half while my lower half gets blasted by the open window.

This is going to be a long day...

Ta,
Bec

Tomatoes Smashed Into Soup

I have made tomato paste of that paper. It's done. It's finished. It's completed.

Now I can relax. 4th book in Twilight series, here I come.

Oh, it's my half-birthday again today, so that also warrants me taking the day off. No more work for me; I'm resting.

Think I'll watch Titan A.E. tonight; I've been wanting to for awhile and haven't had the time.

Time to go chill and be lazy and promise never to leave a paper that I had a month to do till 16 hours before its due date again...

Ta,
Bec

They Have GOT To Be JOSHING Me...

I GOT INTO THE NEW NOTA PUBLICATION!

Now this wouldn't be so damn interesting...if I hadn't been trying for three years. THREE YEARS.

But this poem that I am about to put down here, so you can see it for the obvious WONDER that it is now, now that it's getting PUBLISHED and EVERYTHING...

reaching escape velocity

mother worries.

as Eldest Daughter approaches twenty,
she is tired of lake waves
which have worn her mother thin

she hates the snow
though it never bothered her before

and now she needs room
for busting into flower

the Midwest is now the enemy.

Eldest Daughter is getting restless

but mother wonders

if 2,000 miles can give up any kind of perspective
will coastline just be all the same?
can two years save her?

as Daughter speeds up to escape orbit

her mother prays

that this one will still be known
when she falls starless back to Earth

if she doesn't crash and burn
this daughter may yet be saved.


Yes. The Daughter is me, mother is my mother. I was thinking of running away at 19 years old already and I'm still going at 22.

I am the birdie that just hates the freezing confines of the nest and therefore is flying away as fast as her little wings can carry her.

That's about the only good news. This tomato paper needs writing now. I've had a month to do it, and it is due at 11 tomorrow morning. I'm cutting it FINE...

Ta,
Bec

Healing...and I Redefine Having A Stiff Neck

My foot no longer hurts and is in fact, healing nicely. I will suffer no permanent damage, it appears (didn't think I would, anyway)

Went to physical therapy today; my neck has been stiff, so she massaged it. Should be much better by tomorrow.

I currently can't bend the damn thing backwards or to the right, so it had better improve.

She pushed on THAT spot on my shoulder again, and while it was still sore as hell it wasn't half as bad as the last time she did it. I must have improved.

I didn't schedule another appointment; I'm doing well enough right now with pain management and while my exhaustion is bad most days, I can manage that on my own. Nothing they can do for me anyway as far as the tiredness.

Not much else going on! Heroes review comes later tonight.

Ta,
Bec


Angela's sons are all Arthur's

Angie probably couldn't be anything but faithful, as Arthur is a distinctly manipulative bastard.

Hiro stopped time and faked Ando's death. Thought so. Sneaky bastard... Hiro's going to meet the dude in Africa and retrieve Matt.

Claire's going after Mom, who's been trapped with Eric for a week. He has some sort of controlling mimic "make them do what I want" thing.

Adam's meeting Arthur-I assume Art wants healing so he can get up out of bed. Adam seems a bit resistant...and no wonder...Arthur just life-drained Adam right out of existence.

ARTHUR'S A WRAITH! AGGGGGH!

Matt's back in town with a pet! Dad's in the airport. Daph's looking for him.

Nate's gone to see Mo. (This is going to be interesting...seeing as Mo's turning into the Leaping Scaled Wonder...) Mo's all interested cause I don't think he likes being the way he is.

Matt's telling Daph that he's going to be married to her...five minutes after meeting her. Oh, the kid was named Daniella after her grand...didn't catch that. Linderman her grandfather?

Mo's given the Wonder Pair an injection of some sort that's making them not feel so good...why do I think Angela's going after his ass? Mo does not have long to live if she goes after him.

Daph in the cell with Sylar. Busting him out (he's actually a good guy at this point. Creepy.)

Pete is waking up! Sylar and Pete are TEAMING UP? Boy, didn't see that one coming. Sylar wants to redeem himself (fat chance of that happening.)

Hiro and Ando in Africa! Safari time! Oh, they're just after the African guy. And the African guy just clocked Hiro over the head...

Claire going to get Mom away from Creepy Eric. Claire's mom is going to get controlled by him. Wait for it...wait for it...BLAM. She is going nowhere. And she has no powers to fight back with. Ha!

Claire's getting stuck, too, and her taser is toast.

Ando is suggesting a one-minute backup to before he gets clonked, but it doesn't work because the painter just clonks both versions of him.

Daph is in Mo's place, asking for stuff. And Daph has discovered Mo's lair. He can't catch her, either (hee).

Hiro's ticked because the time travel didn't work, so they're hiding and waiting for him to come back.

Eric is playing Russian Roulette. Claire's holding the gun. Eric is trying to figure out who's Mom here...come on, Claire, fire on yourself...he's controlling the gun...Meredith tried to fool him. Didn't work.

Claire's going to get shot again. I can see it happening. A death at the hands of Mom. But she's got more lives.

Claire shot again. And then woke up and knocked him out. Nice distraction technique...but has Claire gotten stronger? She used to have to have lots of time to pick herself up after a bullet wound. Now she's up in a couple of seconds.

(If I have to hear one more chorus of "Clippo, Clippo, Clippo," during the commercial breaks I am going to hurt someone.)

Angela's in a coma. Aw, Sylar and Pete have come to Mummy's bedside. Sylar's saying Pete should have a look around (not advisable here. Might see Dad)

Pete draws the Pinehearst thing.

Mr. Bennet has shown up to contain Eric. Claire's a hero (yip-yay) but Mr. Bennet's name is mud with Claire right now...don't think that's going to change.

Bennet's with Claire's mom.

Sylar and Pete are having a fight...a big one. And since now they're both indestructible this could go on for a while.

Nope. Now Sylar's in the bed and Pete's on the loose.

Tracey's talking to Mo. Trying to talk him down. Tracey's going to ice his lizard ass...there she goes. Icing the cuffs! Apparently he sedated them but Mo's a little wonky these days...it looked like they were going to bust out but Mo got back up again...

Matt tries to feed his turtle. Daph is back but she's telling him that Pinehearst ain't a place where he wants to be. She's warning him off...watch Daph go rogue now. He's trying to save her. Oh, cut with the sap, Matt. I want you dead and now. One of my least favorite characters of the moment. Die, Matt, die.

And Daph left him there. Hee. Go feed your turtle, Matthew.

Hiro's waited till dark to catch the guy. Why do I think this is going to backfire? Yeah. Pretty soon he'll have a totem, too. African dude wants to go places, after people.

Pete's going up to Pinehearst. Petey's going to meet his dad! This is going to go wrong. Yeah, I'd say they need to talk. Not good.

And Dad took Pete's powers in a fatherly hug. Nice guy.

So next week appears to be War of the Petrelli's week, with Angela on one side and Arthur on the other. Pete's down. Nate's been captured by Mo. And Sylar's is on Angela's side.

And they're taking a body out of Mo's place. Who it is, I don't know.

And The Klutz Award of the Year Goes To...

ME. Who else?

Yeah, I pulled a me this morning. I took a shower, had combed my hair, and was walking out the door of the bathroom next door.

And walked right into the door itself with my right foot.

Someday I will learn that me versus the bottom part of that door is a losing battle.

I managed to make a dig in the skin underneath my big toenail, enough to make it bleed for approximately the last ten minutes.

After cleaning up all of the blood I tracked across the dorm room floor, I decided it would be in my best interests to sit down and not do anything for awhile. Best to stay put when I'm having a day like this.

It's not hurting as much as it was when I did it, so I probably didn't cause too much damage to anything vital. Just a minor injury.

However, I'm going to have a heck of a time getting socks or shoes on today. Got to applaud me. I'm like a Jedi in reverse...Klutz levels are so high in me I should become some sort of superheroine, falling over stuff and banging into walls.

I'd better check this thing. Knowing me I'm already getting gangrene.

Ta,
Bec

The Death of My Headphones

My wonderful, beautiful, rare English headphones, bought in a real English shop in a real English town, have died.

I mourn their loss mostly because they could have done this LAST week before my parents got here. But no, they broke THIS week when I have no way of getting another pair very fast or very cheap.

But now they're dead. I have no way to listen to anything on my laptop and no way to listen to anything on my desktop without turning on the speakers (and I can only do that when my roommate's not sleeping.)

I really liked these ones. I really did. I was always so careful with them and yet they broke on me.

Beyond that, nothing going on. I am going to be busy this weekend trying to catch up for Monday morning. Yay, me.

That's it!

Ta,
Bec

5 Days Later...

Here's the long and short of the last five days.

1. My degree audit has all of its many flaws settled out and fixed. As far as I know, I'm graduating in the spring.

2. I am not going overseas anymore. Having come to the stark and sad realization that I couldn't afford to go that far away, I had to tone my 'running away from home' plan down a little.

So, as of right now, I'm considering these five places for my Master's:
University of Washington-Seattle
University of Denver
University of Hawaii-Manoa
University of British Columbia (Vancouver)
Dalhousie University (Halifax, Nova Scotia)

Denver's really my first choice at the moment, but the deadline for that one is December 1st, while the others are either February or April. Probably Vancouver next. Then Seattle. Then Hawaii. Then Dalhousie.

I'm typing up a chart to compare them all because I can't make up my stupid mind. Again.

It appears that A) I want to go west, mostly B) I like being on the coast C) I'm getting away as far as my limited monetary funds will let me go.

So, I'm still going to be on this continent, but I'm going to be somewhere at the other end of it, unless I go to Halifax (technically I'm the middle but Halifax seems closer)

With my brilliant powers of calculation (cue snorting) Denver is closest, followed by Halifax, Seattle, Vancouver, and then Hawaii, which is almost as far away as I was the last time but just in the other direction.

So. New flight path, so to speak. Bit more domestic, but unlike certain two-hearted aliens I know, I can live with domestic as long as they don't overcharge me on my luggage.

On other fronts, I have not seen Heroes yet because I was busy on Monday night and I've been fairly busy since then, too. I'm planning on watching it after this stupid math class gets out.

You don't need to hear again how I detest math. It's old news. If my hatred of the stuff could grow anymore, it would. He's going on about barbers, alopecia, languages and violets. I never thought I'd hear those four things in the same sentence.

Freedom is mine. I must go. Heroes review later tonight!

Ta,
Bec


SPOILER LINE


Angela is nastier than we thought.
There are synthetic heroes. Angela and the Company futzed around with genetics and made Nathan and Tracey what they are now. God wasn't in the details, it appears, and Nate's faith thing is out the window forever...

In other news, Nate slept with Tracey, so now he's slept with two out of three sisters. Only Barbara left to sleep with now.


Linderman doesn't exist.
Matt's dad is making him be there. Turns out Linderman is dead after all. Surprise, surprise...


Daddy Petrelli is still kicking.
Arthur Petrelli was supposed to have died in one of the very first episodes of Heroes, but it appears that he didn't and he's still around and doing stuff. Like controlling Matt's dad and giving him orders. The guy's got some sort of ability; we don't know what it is. Matt's dad has the ability to read thoughts, so I have no idea.


Hiro stabs Ando.
This was completely unexpected. It looks like Ando is dead after Hiro was handed a sword and told to kill him. With barely any hesitation, he did. Ando couldn't defend himself or even fight back. This seems unusually cruel.
I suspect Hiro and Ando had a plan and that Ando isn't actually dead. Hiro wouldn't have been capable of this otherwise (he gave in way too easily and stabbed too quick for this to be anything but deception).


Mo wraps Maya in his loving webs.
Maya discovered that Mohinder has taken the next-door neighbor and stuck him to the wall with a bunch of webs, for whatever reason.
So, next thing you know, Mo's got Maya in the same position. Wrapped up and stuck to the wall.
Nathan's going to go and see him now, so this is going to get interesting...

Knox has Adam in the back of a truck.
Daphne doesn't really know who she's working for but she's going after Matt now. Hiro's in with the Daphne club.
Ando looks dead.
Mohinder's in a state of perpetual change.
Maya's stuck to a wall.
Pete's in a coma.
Sylar's running around with Bennet again.
Matt's still in Africa.
Angela's having dreams about her supposedly dead husband killing both Nate and Pete and also getting Tracey.
Claire is really hating Mr. Bennet right now after he basically forced this guy who could make black holes to kill Sylar, but he couldn't do it and sucked himself away instead.

FREEEEEE...

Someone in Hibbard bonk the fire alarm and end this class...for my sake.

Of course, I'm not paying attention anymore. I haven't for weeks now. Not going to change my mind.

What's new? Not much. I'm figuring out who I have to go to to get a Lit minor applied to my Creative Writing major. Once that's on there, I can then sign up for classes on November 5th. No worries. Once that's on there I'll feel secure enough to start signing up for Master's programs overseas.

40 minutes to go...

I think I'm going to have the physical therapist look at my posture the next time I see her. I've got pain in my back again and it's starting to get irritating. I'm turning into my mother, who can't sit for long periods. I already warned her about graduation being hours and hours long...and between Grandma Sackett, Mom, and me, it's going to be like the Yo-Yo Brigade.

At least half the class hasn't turned up today. I almost didn't.

30 minutes.

I look like a gypsy queen today. Got chandelier earrings, a bandanna, and dark eye makeup on. If my clothes actually fit what I look like today I'd be perfect (maybe I can try it again next week and wear a (gasp!) skirt instead.

Of course, that would mean I'd have to have dress shoes and I don't think I have those down here. Whoops.

25 minutes.

Less than 20 minutes.

Finally, we're discussing something I want to pay attention to. About 5 minutes from now we're going to slip back into a stupor. Wait for it, wait for it...

And two minutes later here we are. Bored bored bored.

15!

10!

5!

The stock market appears to be rallying a bit. It's been going under all week, and I suspect this little spot of positiveness is going to end quite soon.

Just a few minutes left. He won't let us out early; he never does.

I have several stories to work on this weekend. And I probably won't write on this blog tomorrow thanks to being with my parents all day long. I'll try, but I make no promises.

So, le weekend is about a minute away. Come on, come on...I want to go...I want to listen to that new John Barrowman song till my ears fall off (and not just 'cause he's heyo, Captain Jack. It's 'cause he's good and the song's good, too.)

TA!

Bec

Try A FIVE-Leaf Clover. They're Luckier.

Today was a ridiculously good news sort of day, and save for me biting my lip all to hell this morning during breakfast (which I thought was a sure sign of the bad to come) it actually turned out all right.

If I survive tomorrow then it's weekend time.

First off, I read on the news stuff this morning that David Tennant is making Sir Jonathan Miller eat crow. A lot of it.

Here's why: Back a few months ago, David Tennant was starting out on Hamlet in Stratford, and Miller said something to someone about only celebrities getting the good roles and specifically referred to Tennant, who's currently playing the Doctor.

About three people (at least) leapt to David Tennant's defense at the time, saying he IS a classically trained actor, has done Hamlet and indeed, has worked in Stratford long BEFORE he was the Doctor. This is all true.

So David Tennant is playing Berowne in Love's Labour's Lost at the moment and is according to most critics, doing a wonderful job as usual. A couple of the critics felt fit to remind people of what Miller had said, kind of as a "Ha ha, in your face" kind of thing.

And may I remind those still skeptical of David Tennant's greatness (you know who you are)(and shame on you for not realizing his amazing-ness before) that Tennant himself has never said a word in his own defense, and has instead gone back to his JOB and done it WELL?

That's pretty much it: David Tennant's great, getting greater all the time. Sir Jonathan Miller can stuff it, eat crow, and fess up to being an idiot. And I'm just happy that David Tennant's doing well at what he does again. Pretty soon he'll be a Sir himself.

Item 2 on the list of things that made my day just dandy... this one has to do with me.

At UWEC, we have these things called degree audits. They are a summary of the classes we've taken, the classes we will take, and the classes we need to take.

Mine, of course, is quite confusing as I have a full four years worth of classes in it, and I've filled in a lot of blanks.

One thing I didn't know (or chose to ignore, or didn't see because sometimes I forget to pay attention to things) was that I need a minor to graduate, along with my major.

Now, if I started a NEW minor it's going to take another year to get out of here, and for me that's unacceptable. No way.

So, I decided to test the waters and try for a Lit minor with my Creative Writing major. Problem is, in recent years you can't go for a major and minor in the same department. Too much overlap and confusion.

But my degree audit let me when it shouldn't have. And I was confused.

So, I go see my advisor. He asks questions of someone else to try and sort out what I've done wrong.

And it turns out I am probably holding some sort of mutated clover leaf. That's the only explanation I've got for me skidding by with a Lit minor and a Creative Writing major. Because I can. And I'm going to.

Folks, countrypeople, readers...I am getting out of here in the spring. This spring. THE spring.

HEE HEE HEE.

So with that out of the way, Number 3 is: An entire pepperoni pizza sitting downstairs in the KT fridge (wouldn't fit in mine) waiting to be eaten.

That's it. David Tennant rocks. I'm finally zeeing light at zee end of a very long tunnel. And there's pizza.

Ta,
Bec

Glasgow?

Strathclyde e-mailed me this morning-that's Glasgow.

Somehow, the appearance of this e-mail has settled my recently conflicting emotions on going overseas again. I was feeling as if I was being selfish and petulant by wanting to leave the country again. I was considering just telling my mother that I wanted to go to Madison and forget going away again.

But with Strathclyde finally e-mailing me, I feel like maybe I've found where I want to go. Finally. Glasgow is a bit bigger and seems a lot further away than Aberystwyth (hope I spelled that right) or Leeds, but I wanted to go to Scotland again. Here lies my chance.

It was really odd this morning. I saw that e-mail and all the tension I've been feeling for three or four days now just left me. Just felt this weird peaceful thing, like maybe I'm going to the right place after all.

But first, I'm hoping to figure out what classes I need to take for my last semester here. Being all ready to go to Scotland doesn't mean that I can go if I haven't finished getting my degree here first.

With that hurdle out of the way, things will move a little faster than they're moving right now.

In other news, my Grandma Sackett is getting out of the hospital today, I hope. She was having trouble breathing last week and when my aunt suggested she go to the doctor, her heart rate was 180 beats a minute.

Needless to say, that ain't natural, so they admitted her to the hospital and have been spending the last little bit of time getting her heart rate back down where it should be. And despite bitchy head nurses giving Grandma her meds at the wrong time and not letting her up out of bed, it sounds like Gram's going to get through this one.

So, I'm calming down about leaving again and Grandma's heart is apparently misbehaving less than it was doing a week ago.

As the great David Tennant once said, Everything's coming up Doctor.

Tra,
Bec

Monday!

I'm in class, typing on the laptop.

I know darn well I shouldn't HAVE the laptop with me and that I should leave the heavy objects at home. I will pay tomorrow with aching knees and a sore back, but my needs were more urgent and I can take ibuprofen for the pain.

My first class of the day got cancelled, so I FINALLY got to watch Seeker: The Dark is Rising. I wanted to see it purely because Chris Eccleston is in it (Ninth Doctor). It was all right; a bit predictable. I figured out who was in Will's inner circle and dancing with the dark fella long before she was revealed to be bad.

Eccleston was good; looks odd with long hair (he was practically bald as the Doctor, and as a result his big ears were always visible.) Here he looked much different (and also because he was the nasty bad evil dark meanie bastard guy)

I also figured the brother was with Nasty Bad Evil because this was a kid's movie and the twin had to be alive someplace. He was. He was trapped in a snow globe and only got out at the end when Chris Eccleston got stuffed in there himself and dropped down into a really deep pool of water, never to rise again.

It was an all right movie. I watched it; it was on my list of things to watch this year. Now I've done so, and won't have to again (unless I get the urge to see Chris Eccleston throwing around crows and riding a horse (he barely got off the thing...and then he creeped me out by trying to sing 'Joy to the World.")

Later on, I'll post my Heroes ranting and raving here, but for now I should really be paying attention (ha ha).

Ta,
Bec


SPOILER LINE


Claire shoots Future Pete
But of course he can't be dead. This is Heroes, and Pete is one of the FOUR characters who can't die (or at least is a real bitch to kill).

Ando and Hiro begin to break
These two are best friends. I do believe that with every episode that passes, Hiro's trust of Ando lessens and Ando gets madder at Hiro for his lack of trust. Enemies in future? Possibly.
But Hiro apologized and the Haitian caught them breaking out, so I think that maybe they'll have a bit more time to make buddy-buddy in the cell on Level 2.


Linderman
How is Linderman THERE?

Mohinder
He's growing horny little flakes out of his back. The light's bugging him. His temper's shorter.

Mo's gone sticky.

Four years later, Mo is really, really not well off. We didn't see his face, but he clearly has problems.


Four years later, Pete goes to the Bennet house. There's a little blonde boy (about 3 or 4. Probably 3-ish)
(HIS NAME IS NOAH. HUH? WHERE DID HE COME FROM?) and Gabriel is all sweet and everything, nice to the boy, kisses Mr. Muggles, tells Pete that if he'd known he was coming he'd have made MORE...

Okay, Gabe didn't have his memories wiped; he's raising the kid and is controlling his "hunger."

Matt and Daphne hooked up (got married.) Matt's got a baby in his arms (Daniella-why that name, of all the names?)

Molly's grown a bit!

Okay, halfway through, there was a massive explosion thanks to Pete and Gabriel going boom simultaneously. Luckily, three out of four of the people in that explosion could survive said explosion, so...

Yeah, they're all alive. Claire's gone nasty. She's torturing Current Pete.

Nathan is STILL praying to God...Linderman's telling him to pray some more.
I have the thought that someone is controlling Nathan and making him see Linderman, kind of like a hallucination. Someone's manipulating the strings here...

Tracey's has apparently figured out what she needs to do. Jump off a bridge. Of course, it sucks that Nathan would catch her mid-jump and NOW it looks like these two are hooking up (sort of) again. Could the little boy be theirs?

Four years later, Nathan is President and has married Tracey, and is still religious.

Okay, problem. Past Pete just did something to Nathan that resembled what Sylar could do. Pete has gone back to the present, has Sylar's ability, and now has the hunger to boot. Nice one, Pete ol' boy. In trying to stop Sylar, you've now become even more his brother.

Matt in the present is seeing something. Matt in the future is a jerk to Molly and then Daphne comes back just barely alive and drops dead in his arms. In the present he apparently needs a totem, an animal of some kind. Matt becomes a turtle?

Hiro and Ando are getting the third degree from Angela thanks to having been idiots. Hiro looks ready to give up, Ando supports him, but Angela says someone is manipulating everyone else and now he's the one who has to fix it.

So, Hiro and Ando go to dig up a coffin (I thought that Adam's wife was supposed to do this, but never mind) and Adam, of course, is inside.

Adam grabs Hiro by the throat and says, "Hiro, you son of a b..."

Ta,
Bec

My Shoulder Screams For Mercy

I was going to report today that I was cold. That was earlier.

I'm still cold and miserable, but that's not the point anymore. I have something new to whine about.

Now I'm going to complain about my shoulder. The physical therapist worked out the knots that have sat there for six months and the shoulder has responded by yowling for the last 7 hours.

I am on high doses of ibuprofen (for the sake of others. I tend to get mean when I'm in pain)(that might explain my nasty attitude when it started to get cold)

So I'm cold. I hurt. I'm going to bed now and if anyone bumps this shoulder tomorrow, they're going to get filleted by my remarkably sharp tongue.

Ta!
Bec

A little Poem I wrote in math class...

Though I walk through the
valley of probability
the likelihood of me getting
anything out of it
is zilch.

Ah. Poetry. The music of the soul.

Onward...

Not much going on. Knee's better, though I will keep up with the ibuprofen for a couple more days because I don't trust the blasted thing. Probably if I stop the ibuprofen now the thing will blow up again.

Tired tonight. Got halfway through today and was pretty tired through the other half. Might be the weather that's bringing me down, or the elevator in the dorm going kaput today. Wouldn't you know it-my only transportation up to my room and it broke down on me. Typical. How bloody typical.

I think now that I've stopped moving and thinking so much, now I'm starting to realize how tired I really am. Every time I think I've gotten on top of this thing, it surprises me with something else.

Anyway, nothing else to say, so ta,
Bec

So...

I can barely walk again, this time because of my RIGHT knee.

This is nothing new. This knee has done this before. I just have to get through the next few days and I'll be fine.





Heroes Stuff Again. You don't want da spoilers, don't read dis...

SPOILER LINE



Angela is delusional about Gabriel.
Angie's formerly adopted third son is off on a happy little mission with Mr. Bennet. Give me a break. Can Opener Boy off with Mr. Horn Rims. This is going to be a complete disaster. You can put Sylar in a suit, but you can't change the fact that he's a bad guy. And that was completely proven when he slammed the doors in Noah's face and went after the bad guy's powers...

Tracey isn't Niki/Jess.
Tracey opened a casket and there was Niki in there (but the damn building blew up). They were born in the same hospital, on the same day, with the same doctor. Coincidence? I think not. I think they're sisters.
OKAY. This is getting weird. I think she may be a clone of some kind. Records can be falsified. It got made up. Because Zimmerman just said he created her, which means she CAN'T be REAL.

Nathan's still off on religion (ha. He's reading Genesis...) Matt's seeing weird things-like another guy who can paint the future (specifically, Matt's). Hiro and Ando screwed up and wound up on Level 5 with the really bad guy and Sylar, who got put back in lockup. And the Haitian is back from wherever.

Daphne grabbed the formula. I do believe she has both halves now.

Bennet is looking for sweet little Gabriel's weakness, and it appears it's BAKING...if you believe the previews from next week's episode.

Pete may be in a different body, but he's still got his powers.
He's obviously gotten stronger, and somehow his future self hid Pete inside of someone else (that was kind of cool, actually) and Future and Current Pete went off on a wee road trip with each other.

Mohinder's lizard problems won't be solved till next week!

That's about it. Sylar is really Angela's kid. It's too creepy for words...

Ta,
Bec

Knee-d This To Be Less Painful (Ha. See? I made a pun!)

Thoughts during Friday's math class:

I carry on. I persevere. I survive despite overwhelming, terrible, daunting odds.

I will survive. And all of that stuff.

Yes, people, here I sit in another math class. I could miss a day and not miss anything (hell, I could miss a whole month and not miss anything.)

I want to go play Oblivion! I'm in the Shivering Isles!

We're discussing bookies...well, he is. We just sit here, day after day for 50 minutes and nod appropriately at intervals.

And I am so bored, because now I can't bring my laptop to class. Too heavy for my knees to handle.

Now onto TODAY:

Yeah, my right knee is in cahoots with the rest of the body today, and has decided that it really needs to scream and yell and throw a hissy fit (if knees only could.)

I have the heating pad on the thing, hoping it will help ease the ache. I already had to haul my laundry downstairs on a cart.

I figure if I keep the heating pad on this damn thing long enough I will either A)die of electrical burns from having it on the highest settings or B) I will get some actual relief.

Or there's always C) Get me a really big machete.

As always when this knee goes down, I'll lighten up my backpack as much as possible, rest as often as I can, and try not to lift anything heavy or run up flights of stairs for the next little while. It'll clear up by Friday. If it doesn't, I'll get the conveyance guys to take me up to Student Health and have a look at the stupid thing. Again.

Of course, as I was typing that I remembered that I have a physical therapy appointment on Thursday, so all I have to do is bitch to him and he can help me with it.

I have to go get my laundry in the next twenty minutes so I'd better go down there and start preparing to move it to a cart, which I haul through the basement to the elevator, onto the elevator up to the third floor, down the hallway to my room, swing the desk chair as close as possible, pick up the laundry and move it to the chair and cart it across the room.

Life used to be easy, and then somewhere it took on a level of complication that would mess up a genius.

(good thing I'm even smarter than that. :) )

Ta,
Bec

More Hamburger Construction, and I Rule the Fighter's Guild

Yeah, we discussed hamburger construction in class today.

Oblivion update: I'm on Level 26. I have completed the Fighter's Guild stuff. On to the Mages Guild stuff to wrap up, and then two little quests, and then off to Shivering Isles (been preparing for leaving since level 20. About time I left. But I want to wrap most of my quests up first before I do)

Not much else up. Tired and going to bed. Have physical therapy tomorrow (oh, joy) and have found my swimsuit is entirely absent from this room. Don't know how that happened. It WAS here, I SWEAR it.

Also moving forward on getting my Master's overseas. Have e-mailed the three schools I liked best. We'll see which one offends me least.

Ta,
Bec

Hamburger and Pizza Construction?

Today in math class, we discussed very important topics...such as the delicate and important construction of hamburgers and of pizzas.

(Not that we're wasting time or anything.)

Apparently it matters if the hamburger meat is placed in the middle, on the bottom, or on the top. I assume the planet would explode if your lettuce was on the bottom. Or if tomato sauce were put with pineapple on a pizza.

Last week it was dice. The week before it was cards. This week it's burgers and pizza. And I still do not care.

(I probably won't care next week, either.)

This may be a math class, but at least half of the class aren't paying attention to him anymore, not even when the prof couldn't sort out what was a condiment and what wasn't (everything but the meat, apparently.)Some guy was playing golf on his calculator through the entire class today. I was writing.

(Screw it. I hardly eat meat anyway, and don't care one way or the other if my pizza or burger has this thing or that thing.)

That was my day...and now, I'm going to go into Heroes stuff. If you hate/don't watch Heroes, shame on you. If you have but didn't know it was on, go watch it online. And if you have, then you can either read my ramblings or just stop reading here.



SPOILERS BAR. Once beyond this point, you are on your own. Don't come crying to me if I ruin it for you...


A. Mohinder Goes Stupid
I hope the creator of this show realizes that his most brilliant character just had a severe and possibly fatal attack of the stupids.

Now, Mohinder's a bright guy, probably the smartest character on Heroes (and there are a lot of smart people, so you know he's good). Usually Mo is level-headed and rather reserved.

SO WHY in the name of Parvati did Mohinder NOT realize that giving himself an injection of an untested gene-altering solution would BACKFIRE?

Has no one read Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?

How many, many movies and shows are there out there where the scientist goes all "Wow, I've found the solution to, the cure for, the amazing discovery that would make me be able to shoot grapes from my eyes"...and the dummy goes and gives himself the formula, despite warnings that it could GO WRONG?

Then the scientist turns into a freakish mutation, a tree, a man with a couple extra appendages...and then everyone else goes after him because he's a bad guy, and then they kill him.

Well, Mo went against Maya's warnings. All he could think about was having what everyone else had and he didn't. He went running down to the docks. He injected himself with the untested formula and BANGO! He bent a gun into a pretzel.

That was all fine and dandy, but then Mo's hanging off the ceiling and THEN, he's got sticky cornflake scales coming off of his back. So much for scientific discovery...Mohinder is going to be in the tank with Mohinder the iguana by next week.

Stupid man. Didn't he ever hear the line: With great power comes great responsibility, the ability to affect great consequences...and an affinity for flies?

B.Nathan goes looney tunes

Last year, Nathan was shot. The year before, Nathan was burned.

Nathan has survived yet another major accident, probably because Pete loves him so much that he keeps on saving him (or coming four years back in time to shoot him so that he shuts up. Apparently it works both ways)

So, what does crazy Nathan do, once he's alive again and such, but go into the chapel next door and go off on a spiel about God, a topic he scoffed mightily at back when he was a senatorial candidate?

Nathan's gotten religion, despite his former affair with Claire's mother, his affair with Nicki, leaving his wife and two kids far behind, cheating to get the senatorial vote, and being mean to his mom?

I guess anyone can be redeemed, but Nathan is acting more like his brother Pete these days and it doesn't suit him. Nate's the jerk, the overachiever, the one who'll do anything to get what he wants even if it means stepping on people's faces to get there. He has a nice side, but it's a lot less obvious than Pete's. Nate can be a total asshole...and there he is, on his knees, praying.

On another front, Linderman is hanging around (despite being DEAD) and keeping Nathan company. Problem is, Linderman is DEAD and no one else can apparently see him. Either Nathan has had a psychotic breakdown or he's the only one who can see Linderman, possibly because Linderman has lingered after death and can choose who he wants to see him.

C. Nicki, Jessica, Tracey?

There once was a character named Nicki. She was nice.

She had an alter-ego named Jessica. Who was a bitch.

But Nicki and Jessica have gone off somewhere, leaving this third person named Tracey. But Tracey has no memory of what the hell happened last year (Nicki/Jessica got blown up).

But Tracey has earned the name of the Ice Queen, thanks to a reporter bugging her about being Nicki/Jess, making her mad, thus making her grab his arm and freeze him so much that he blew apart. Little frozen chunks of reporter all over the parking garage.

Whoops.

I have the feeling Tracey is a third sister that no one knew about. It would explain the massive memory loss (she wouldn't have lost it if it never happened to her) and it would explain the sudden alteration of her powers (she didn't know she had them but she had something else to begin with)

Otherwise, Nicki/Jess was rescued from the fire and as a result of contact with that much heat, her powers altered and she lost her memory.

D. Sylar's REAL mom.

A while back, Sylar went to visit his mum in NYC. It was a touching reunion. She made him a sandwich. He gave her a snow globe.

Then things got ugly and good ol' Mum wound up getting fatally stabbed with a pair of scissors. Her son did a creepy painting in Mummy's blood and split the premises.

BUT NOW, it appears that Virginia Gray wasn't Sylar's mum after all, and that someone else was his real mummy. Angela Petrelli.

I'd be willing to believe this little theory. Here's a couple scenarios:

1. Gabriel is born, but the kid doesn't seem to manifest any powers. Angela is told by her Company mates that the kid must go. They give him away or kidnap him from Angela and give him away (though why keep the kid in the same city? Angela must have known where he was.)

2. Gabriel manifests powers, but they are considered so dangerous that he'd be a threat to anyone else with powers, so they give him away.

3. Gabriel manifests powers that are dangerous and he's been given away. When Chandra comes knocking around saying he might have powers, Gabe's all excited.

But the Company, knowing Gabriel's undiscovered and possibly unbridled penchant for evil, tell Chandra to tell Gabriel that there's nothing there and that he doesn't have a power after all to throw him off the scent (this backfires, of course.)

4. Gabriel is the son of Angela Petrelli and Adam Monroe. When Adam goes for the virus formula, they realize how potentially dangerous the kid could be, have the Haitian wipe his memories, and give him to someone else to raise.

That's about it for my theorizing. If you think something different, comment and be nice about it. I can and will erase your comment if I think it's nasty.

Ta,
Bec

Sunday-Oh, La!

Nothing happened today.

My roommate is fine.

I am eight years behind on my homework.

At least eight years. Maybe ten.

(By the way, I am trying to make my blog entry look BIGGER so that you don't get upset from the lack of text, so that's why there's short lines.)

Oh. I forgot.

I have posted my longer story (and by long I mean 30 pages of single-spaced text) on a website and apparently no one has looked at it. I split it up in 6 fairly neat sections so that people can read it in pieces...although I don't fault you if you want to read it all at once.

Here's the link: http://www.webook.com/project/The-Isolde-Diaries

Read it, PLEASE!

Ta,
Bec

Oh What A Beautiful Morning...

So, I'm sleeping quite soundly at 2 this morning, when through my sleep I hear a knock on the door. An insistent knocking that doesn't stop.

So I go and open the door. As it turns out, my roommate has gotten a little bit soused...

Okay, make that she MIGHT have drank some rather strong vodka, according to one of her friends that hauled her, barely conscious, into our room.

One of her friends stuck round (because stupid me doesn't know how to deal with this sort of thing) and we watched V for Vendetta inbetween caring for her.

Almost four hours later, I have given up on sleeping for the night. It's nearing 6 AM and it IS the weekend so I still have a chance to catch up.

I have the feeling that when she comes to, she's going to want to be unconscious all over again. She's crashed out on the floor at the moment because her bed was the upper bed and the two guys hauling her didn't think they could get her up there.

I'm going to be barely coherent today at the Study Abroad Orientation, which I'm going to merely to help the new Harlaxton students with anxiety attacks.

Through her confused haze, Kate has promised me she will never do this again...and she probably won't, given that her hangover is going to be one for the ages.

What's become obvious to me is how much I've avoided by not drinking at all. Certainly I won't wind up like this, ever, now that I've seen what it can do. I think I'll stick to non-alcoholic stuff.

In a couple of hours, I'll go take a shower and do such other things. Probably should let the RA know about what's happened.

Not much else going on, so ta,
Bec

I'll Be Brief

Not much to say. Monday was terrible; I didn't get the job I wanted and my hip was killing me.

Tuesday wasn't much better, but it was better than Monday.

Today, however, was a good day. I barely hurt and getting my Master's in Scotland is looking a little more probable than it did on Monday. A little. A tiny bit. There it goes...

Hopefully tomorrow will be smashingly smashing.

Ta,
Bec

Got Indy And A Heating Pad

My current position on the planet is: Dorm room in Eau Claire, typing this post, with a heating pad under my butt trying to fix my hip.

I'm looking gleefully up at my full VHS set of Indiana Jones movies, which cost all of about ten bucks at Goodwill. All except for Number 4, I have them all. Always wanted a set and now I've got one.

But tonight I won't get to watch them, because there's much, much homework to finish before tomorrow.

Mom and Dad were down (how did you think I got the tapes and the heating pad,) which is OW...hang on a second.

Back now. I was burning my bum. Had to turn the heating pad down a notch. Anyway, Mom and Dad were here today. We went to see Anna, who's an hour away in River Falls. Then we went just inside Minnesota to eat at Red Lobster. Then we came back, dropped Anna off, and came back here.

I should get something done, or risk having to scramble to finish it all tomorrow. That would suck...

Indy will have to wait to save the world again; I have to finish some stuff.

Ta,
Bec

The Unhappy Monkey Stuck in God Mode

In case no one realizes it (except Cassie, who already heard me whining about this today) I am unhappy.

If you care to know why, here's the gist of it: I want to go back to England. Or Scotland. Or Wales.

I don't care overly much which part of the UK I'm in, as long as I'm there and NOT HERE.

It should be old news that I hate living here. Hate. It. Have since I was, ooh, 12 or 13? Possibly 14. Definitely 15.

I hate the cold and I hate the snow, mostly, and it grows with every year I live here. I feel like I'm running in place. I realized at some point along the line if I didn't escape, I was going to get stuck here and never get out.

That's part of the reason why I went to England. I figured getting out for a bit might work it out of my blood, and I could live a boring life in peace. But since coming home, it's just gotten worse than before. I can only assume that because I now know what it's like being away, now I want to stay away...possibly for a long, long time.

I don't think I'd be missed much here. Outside of my immediate family I have very few friends. I have maybe two or three here and a couple back home. The rest of the family doesn't seem to care very much so I don't care very much about them, either.

I don't know. It'll be expensive. I want to try and get my Master's overseas; be gone for a year and then maybe I'll come back...if I haven't found something better first.

I need to think about it for awhile yet. Not sure where I'm going right now and not sure what I want. I'm kind of in limbo.

In other news, I have become the monkey in the middle between my mother and college freshman sister. Mom wants to talk to Anna; Anna wants to talk to Mom. The problem is, Ma doesn't use e-mail and Anna's phone is down...so guess who winds up being the relay station, the telegraph pole, the fiber optic cable between those two. ME. I can e-mail Anna, who can tell me stuff, and then call Mom, who can tell me stuff to tell Anna in the next e-mail I send. And so it goes.

I always hated monkey in the middle as a child and now I know why-I wind up being the monkey. Every. Bloody. Time.

I think I'm going to sit and do nothing most of this weekend. Probably best if I do. Lazy is best when things are trying to fix.

And the last bit of news is: I posted a fic today, it has 115 reads and NO ONE has reviewed it yet. I am hoping that by tomorrow morning when I finally get out of bed, there will be one. It was a brilliant (or so I thought) River/Doctor piece.

That's about it. I'm at level 22 in Oblivion and have to kill some Xiviali and Daedraic nasties before I can close the gate to hell, or the emperor will never take his throne. The land needs an emperor. I need to kill some Daedric nasties. It all works out somewhere...

The only problem I'm having now is I accidentally scored a point of infamy someplace. My fame is up to over 70, but now with ONE point of infamy to my name, I'm repeatedly hearing the phrase, "I thought you were a hero, but now I see you're just like everyone else." My public turns against me and I don't know why. What did I do wrong?

It's a jungle out there, and those Daedraic monsters are waiting to kill me. Too bad I'm on God mode (still. Never going to get off it. Halfway through, almost. Can't now that I'm dependent on it.)

Lots to do. Spider Daedra are calling me, and I have to zap them.

Ta,
Bec

PS: Before I head off to bed, I wanted to update you all on a story I told you last year. Recall the one about the logger who came stumbling out of the woods with four bullet wounds, telling a story about a one-armed man and some other feller shooting him, and the cops looked for these guys in a black SUV but in the end it turned out he'd made it up and shot himself?

Read that old entry here:

"http://becca-blog-bec.blogspot.com/2007/09/yes-story-below-is-true.html">

Anyway, here's the news report from Rhinelander on the trial...

The rural Rhinelander man convicted last month of lying to police about an alleged shoot-out in the woods of northern Lincoln County has been sentenced to 14 days in jail.

John “Homer” Van Meter, 54, will also pay a $2,500 fine and spend one year on probation.

The Lincoln and Oneida County Sheriff’s Departments, which investigated the case, will not receive any restitution for the time they spent hunting for the one-armed man Van Meter said shot him in April of 2006.

Lincoln County Circuit Judge Jay Tlusty said the departments are not technically “victims” of Van Meter’s crime under Wisconsin law and therefore cannot receive compensation for the time spent investigating the alleged shooting.

Van Meter was convicted last month of one misdemeanor count of obstruction in connection with a gambit in the woods which he said began when two people in black SUV, including a one-armed man, shot at him.

The self-proclaimed “hillbilly logger” claimed he fired back at his attackers and ended up with four gunshot wounds after a prolonged gun battle with the two men.

After months of investigation the Lincoln County Sheriff’s Department announced they had determined the shooting was a hoax and the district attorney’s office charged Van Meter with obstruction.

During sentencing Thursday, Lincoln County Assistant District Attorney Kurt Zengler said there is no doubt that Van Meter’s insistence on clinging to his “fantasy world” forced the Lincoln and Oneida County Sheriff’s Departments to waste valuable time investigating a crime that didn’t happen.

Zengler argued for 30 days jail time, even though he admitted he doesn’t believe time behind bars will alter Van Meter’s faith in his story, and he asked that the two departments receive approximately $11,000 in restitution.

“(Some time in jail) might get him to reform his conduct so there are no further flights of fancy that will cost the taxpayers money,” Zengler said.

Van Meter’s attorney, Marcus Berghahn, argued for probation and a $1,000 fine. He said the state never proved Van Meter shot himself (or that someone else shot him at his behest) and argued the local police decided the case was a hoax because they were in a hurry to resolve the matter before the summer tourist season.

Given his chance to speak, Van Meter angrily insisted that did not shoot himself or perpetrate a hoax. He claimed it is law enforcement officials who are living in a fantasy world and added that he is so disgusted with law enforcement in the Northwoods that he may run for sheriff in the next election.

“The hoax here is what has been crafted by the police and prosecution.” He also mocked the idea that he could shoot himself four times or that one of his friends would shoot him at his request. “This has been nothing but a slanderous, false and malicious lie from the beginning,” he said.

Finally, Van Meter said he is still investigating the alleged shooting with the help of a former director of the FBI.

“If you want something done right do it yourself,” he said.

Van Meter ended his speech with what appeared to be a reference to Jesus Christ and a quote from the Bible. He said he holds no grudge against the jurors who convicted him and added “Father forgive them for they know not what they do.”

In determining a sentence, Tlusty said he had to keep in mind the magnitude of Van Meter’s lie and the reality that the crime for which he was convicted is a misdemeanor.

He said he doesn’t believe Van Meter, who has no prior criminal history, is a threat to the public and agreed with both attorneys that a longer jail sentence would not have an impact. Before concluding the hearing he warned Van Meter that if he doesn’t behave while on probation he could be sentenced to a longer jail term.

Van Meter will be allowed Huber privileges and Tlusty said his probation agent will decide when the jail term should begin. Van Meter must also submit to any evaluation ordered by his probation officer.

He will be allowed to serve the sentence in Oneida County.

Last week, Van Meter filed a motion requesting a new trial. A hearing on that motion will be held Sept. 18.