Saturday, May 28, 2005

Soon

I'll start blogging again soon, I promise!

Thursday, May 12, 2005

Three Month Declaration

I come from a cat family. Since I was born, my family has owned at least one cat. You can imagine the surprise then last night when I told my family that I wanted a dog. Now I understand that I am a point in my life in which having a dog is not a good idea. I'm about to rent a apartment, and living in a small space, alone for most of the day is no life for a dog. I'm not ready for a 20-year commitment either. I'm not going to get a dog but I still want one.

When I considered getting a tattoo a few years, my mom told me to wait three months. If I still had the same passion for a tattoo in three months that I did three months before, then maybe it was something I really wanted rather than a passing desire. Three months later, I was happy that I had no tattoo.

I think I'm going to try this same technique for a new dog. If I still want a puppy in three months, then maybe it's something I really do want. Today is Day One.

Based on what happened last night, I don't think this will be the case. My cat Cayla (aka Kato Kaelin, aka Hildalgo) was curled in my bed by my knees. Around 7:00 am, she starts heaving and hacking. I wake up as she vomits on my feet. I clean up the solid pieces but the foot of bed is soaked. I take off my sheets and blankets and try to go back to sleep on the mattress.

I can't sleep now, so here I am at 8:00 am on my first day of summer. I took my last final for school yesterday. I should be sleeping in and yet, I'm cleaning cat-vomit. Do I really want a dog?

Saturday, May 07, 2005

Haiku Day

In honor of Haiku Day (5-7-5):

Graduation Day
Sat in Moody for too long
when can I eat lunch?

Sunday, May 01, 2005

The Real Reason Why I Wasn't Active In Club

The fall semester of my sophomore year in college, I pledged a social club. I loved my club, and I loved the girls in my club but that was the only semester I was active. By the time I was senior, most of my peers didn't even know that I was in a club. I never participated in Sing Song, never went to any Homecoming Teas, never got to be “on the other side of pledging,” and I don't remember the words to my club song.

When people find out that I was in a club, they often ask, “So why aren't you active?” I usually tell them that I pledged in the fall and went to Oxford in the spring, and when I came back, it was not the same. I didn't remember many of the girls' names, and I felt like an outsider. Yeah, that's the truth, but it's not the real reason why I wasn't active.

The real reason is because of a toothbrush.

I remember it well. I was sitting in my 9:30 am general physics class. It was Tuesday of pledge-week. The Friday before was bid night, an all night introduction to pledging. The day before was the first day of many to wear my banana-colored wool skirt, a white-buttoned shirt, and a small yellow pledge pin on my left shoulder. This Tuesday, I sat up straight in my chair in my khaki pants, my yellow shirt, and my roommate's brown shoes and listened intently while my professor explained kinetic energy.

Like bad morning breath, it hit me. I forgot my toothbrush! As part of my pledging activities for the day, I was supposed to carry around a yellow toothbrush and display it to any club members who asked to see it. On the second day of pledging, I forgot my toothbrush!

This may not seem like a big deal but I felt like the worst pledge ever. I was trapped in my physics class without a toothbrush, and there was nothing I could do. Thoughts of leaving class, running across campus to my dorm room, grabbing my toothbrush, and running back to class all under the guise of “going to the bathroom” entered my mind. But I realized I wouldn't make it back in time. Class would be over before I completed my mission. So I thought I could just pick up my backpack and leave. But I didn't want to draw attention to myself. What if some club member saw me? I was already red in the face. I didn't want to tell anyone I forgot The One Thing that I needed to remember that day.

I decided to wait until the end of class to go back to my room. I figured if I walked quickly enough, I would be able to make it in 10 minutes from the science building to my dorm room to Moody where Chapel was held each day. What I didn't count on was the fact that I was wearing my roommate's new leather high-heels for the first time.

As I rapidly made my way to my dorm room, I noticed that the shoes, although cute, were not very comfortable. The hard leather sides were digging into my feet. They didn't do this when I leisurely strolled to class that morning. I didn't have time to think about it though. The journey was taking longer than I thought. I had successfully grabbed my toothbrush from my room, but I had 2 minutes to make it from my room to Moody. Being late to Chapel was not a good thing to do when you're pledging. At least I had my toothbrush with me now.

When the bells that signified Chapel stopped ringing, I started to run. I had less than 30 seconds. My feet were aching but it didn't matter. I had my toothbrush. I hadn't passed by any club members. I had made it; no one would ever know that I forgot my toothbrush on the second day of pledging.

As I stepped onto the floor of the basketball coliseum, I breathed a sigh of relief because I made it on time. I leaned over to catch my breath. That's when I saw the blood.

My roommate's shoes had dug so much into my feet that they had sliced my heels open. The hem of my khaki pants was soaked in bright red blood. I walked over to my pledge mom and told her that I had stepped on some glass, and I wouldn't be able to make it to Chapel. I went into the bathroom and cried.

That's the real reason why I didn't stay active in club. No one (until now) ever knew that I forgot my toothbrush. My error wasn't discovered that day, but the fear of being caught in a mistake stayed with me. The fact that I wasn't active has nothing to do with the club itself. I'm sure that if any of the club members found out I forgot my toothbrush, they would have all laughed about it. But I was a scared, toothbrushless sophomore with hopes of being perfect and faced with my imperfection, I couldn't laugh at myself. The physical scars of pledging have healed but whenever I think about club, I think about sitting in the pasty, white classroom with my face turning bright red as I realize I forgot my toothbrush.