Neeeeed to Lighten Up.

Blog has been super serious lately. I need to lighten the mood. So here.

This is a cat in a sweater.

I'm Okay. Almost.

It's finally time for an update.

Monday morning around 3 am I woke up feeling nauseous and crampy. It was hard to move. I tested myself and my blood sugar was 567. I gave myself correction and went to bed. About 45 minutes later I woke up feeling exactly the same way, with exactly the same blood sugar. Pulled my pump site out and there was blood in the cannula.

A failed site.

I changed my site and tried more correction. I forced myself to throw up. Feeling a little better.

By this time Erik is awake.

I'm starting to get freaked out, honestly. I remember a story about a counselor from before my time at Camp Carefree. She was at college and caught a cold, and decided to take a nap. She never woke up, the ketones put her into a coma. This story was terrifying me, I was too afraid to go to sleep. I was literally afraid that I was on the verge of death. I'd never had ketones at this level before, and I'd never had such difficulty getting my blood sugar back down.

Though the second correction had done a tiny bit of good, I decided to take a shot of insulin instead. Erik and I stayed up watching some TV shows and waiting for my blood sugar to go down. By 5:30, I was around 300, and feeling much, much better. We decided to go to sleep.

We woke up around 9:00, and I tested at around 230. Figuring everything was over, I called my endocrinologist to let her know what happened and check in. She wanted me to test my ketones and get a definitive reading, so she sent a prescription for ketone strips to walmart. At 11:00, I retested back in the 300's, and my ketones were large.

I was headed to the ER.

I've never been hospitalized as a diabetic, save my diagnosis. I've had some pretty rough goes of it, but never anything I couldn't handle. And honestly, I was shocked, and a little relieved, that this came about from something that was out of my control. The site was barely 24 hours old, and had been working up until I went to bed. I was spared hours and hours of lecturing, everyone involved assuming that I was a good diabetic and that these things just happen. It almost seemed wrong.

The good news was that, despite my fears, I had never gone in to DKA. The ketone levels were bad, but not so bad that I was ever in any real danger. I was given two liters of fluids, and a shot of insulin to get my levels back down.

Erik and I left the hospital around 6:00pm. We headed back to the residence hall so I could register for classes and get some stuff together, then booked it over to Moe's Burritos to eat for the first time that day. I stayed at his place the next two nights. Sleeping alone was a little too scary, yet.

It's been a week, and I'm honestly still shaken by this.

Hug A Diabetic Day

Today is Hug A Diabetic day.

I've long been a supporter of this day because, well, who doesn't like hugs? But I've been thinking about it. Thinking about people like Erik and my parents who, on a frequent and regular basis, actively support my diabetes and do what they can to make my diabetic life easier. Out of those three people, Erik was able to give me a hug today. And he would have anyways, because he doesn't need a day to do that.

It made me think this day is a lot like those stupid statuses people post that sound scandalous but are really something to do with being feminine and are therefore somehow supposed to raise awareness for breast cancer. We know about breast cancer. Everybody knows breast cancer exists. This is not the kind of awareness that we need. You have not accomplished anything except maybe gotten a few people to think you were talking about sex. Congratulations. Now you can go about your life thinking you did something good for breast cancer when really you didn't do ANYTHING.

I think Hug A Diabetic day just enables people to feel like they support diabetics when they've never done anything for them. And it's completely okay if they've never helped me with my diabetes. It's probably not because they didn't want to, it's because I would never let them. I let very few people in to my diabetic life, and for good reason. It's a hard life, full of me pushing you away and telling you I've got control when I've no such thing. I'm going to be angry at you. I'm going to tell you I did something when I didn't. I'm like an addict. It's messy, it's not fun, and I only let people in that I know care enough about me to not run away as soon as I treat them awful for trying to help me.

Please don't be mistaken, I appreciate those friends who acknowledge how difficult my diabetes is and like the opportunity for a public display of affection. This is not an attack on you, but rather a redefining of how I view this day. I know your intentions are good.

So today, I would like to thank those three people who really, truly, support me as a diabetic. Erik, Mom, and Dad: you are immeasurably helpful, and I'm glad you ignore me when I get moody, get the juice when I'm low, and get the tester when I'm being a brat. If it wasn't for you three, I would be so much worse off. I owe you my life.

Hug A Diabetic Day

Today is Hug A Diabetic day.

I've long been a supporter of this day because, well, who doesn't like hugs? But I've been thinking about it. Thinking about people like Erik and my parents who, on a frequent and regular basis, actively support my diabetes and do what they can to make my diabetic life easier. Out of those three people, Erik was able to give me a hug today. And he would have anyways, because he doesn't need a day to do that.

It made me think this day is a lot like those stupid statuses people post that sound scandalous but are really something to do with being feminine and are therefore somehow supposed to raise awareness for breast cancer. We know about breast cancer. Everybody knows breast cancer exists. This is not the kind of awareness that we need. You have not accomplished anything except maybe gotten a few people to think you were talking about sex. Congratulations. Now you can go about your life thinking you did something good for breast cancer when really you didn't do ANYTHING.

I think Hug A Diabetic day just enables people to feel like they support diabetics when they've never done anything for them. And it's completely okay if they've never helped me with my diabetes. It's probably not because they didn't want to, it's because I would never let them. I let very few people in to my diabetic life, and for good reason. It's a hard life, full of me pushing you away and telling you I've got control when I've no such thing. I'm going to be angry at you. I'm going to tell you I did something when I didn't. I'm like an addict. It's messy, it's not fun, and I only let people in that I know care enough about me to not run away as soon as I treat them awful for trying to help me.

Please don't be mistaken, I appreciate those friends who acknowledge how difficult my diabetes is and like the opportunity for a public display of affection. This is not an attack on you, but rather a redefining of how I view this day. I know your intentions are good.

So today, I would like to thank those three people who really, truly, support me as a diabetic. Erik, Mom, and Dad: you are immeasurably helpful, and I'm glad you ignore me when I get moody, get the juice when I'm low, and get the tester when I'm being a brat. If it wasn't for you three, I would be so much worse off. I owe you my life.

For The Love of Money

I've always been really opposed to bribing kids with money to get good grades. I was never bribed monetarily, though in junior high and the very beginning of high school, my mother enticed me with getting my ear cartilige pierced in return for getting nothing but A's (no A-'s) for two semesters straight. Took me awhile, but I got there. There was no compensation for getting what my parents still considered to be "good" grades, it was only the perfect grades they were going to reward. Besides, most of the kids I knew who were bribed were the kids whose parents were eager to see C's. The students getting straight A's are self-motivated.

Or, well, so I thought.

Since getting on this whole Princess kick lately, reading about it and re-watching the movies, and spending a LOT of time thinking about it, the law of unintended consequences reared its ulgy head. Feminism (to me, I suppose I should clarify) is about empowering women to do what they want to do and be who they want to be, to not feel the need to fit in to a mold or any "gender role." However, when telling girls that they could be anything, it's almost as if we've told them they have to be...everything. A study from Girls Inc. published in 2006 details what they call the "Supergirl Dilemma." Girls still have to be thin and pretty, but now they have to be smart and successful too. Instead of releasing them from the old chains of gender roles, we've expanded those roles to be more demanding.

Anecdotally, I completely relate to this. My friends and I did not simply "want" to go to college and be successful, we were going to. And we spent a lot of time talking about our physical flaws and dieting. And, well, me to a lesser extent (at least from what I remember) but most of my friends talked about partying to be social, and getting along well with everybody, and a few even still clung to the idea of "popularity." You had to be smart, pretty, fun to be around, well-liked by all, the president of every club you joined.

So when I think about girls aiming to get the best grades and be perfect, and not necessarily doing it for themselves, but doing it because of external pressures, it made me mad. What good is that? Teaching our children to be the best they can be for others? Don't we want them to be happy with themselves, to be truly self-motivated, to be what they want to be, and not what they think others want them to be and expect of them?

That's when it hit me: pay them.

Sure, it seems cheap (ethically speaking, of course) for kids to do well in school for money and not "for the joy of learning," but I'd want my kids to do well in school for their own personal reasons and no one else's. I don't want my daughter to go to school and get good grades and think that her reward is one small step on the road to perfection. I don't want her to do it to please me, to please her teachers, or to compete with her friends, I want her to do it to please herself. And perhaps that lesson will be learned in getting good grades for completely selfish and tangible reasons. She won't kid herself into being happy because she made me happy, she'll be happy because she can go out and buy another k'nex set. Or Legos. Or makeup or whatever my daughter will be in to.

I don't want my daughter's happiness to hinge on the happiness of others. She shouldn't have to please other people before herself, it should be the other way around.

Disney: Actually Empowering Girls?

I've been on a Disney kick lately, ever since ABCFamily showed Snow White and Aladdin back to back. It's been a really long time since I've watched any of the Princess Franchise movies, and watching Snow White (1937) and Aladdin (1992) together was incredibly....eye-opening. Ever since declaring myself a feminist a few years back, Disney has been sort of the enemy, the culmination of a society that thinks women should do nothing but find love, get married, and stay in the kitchen. Also be well-behaved and serve her husband. And certainly at one point in time that's exactly how women were portrayed to young girls in these movies.

But not anymore.

In Aladdin, Jasmine is a very aggressive, out-spoken young woman. She has dreams of seeing far off places beyond the palace and declares that "IF she gets married, it will be for love." She rejects her father's commands and tells men off for treating her like a "prize to be won." A far cry from Snow White, a bland, pretty woman with a sing-songy voice who doesn't seem to actually have any intelligent thoughts. Of course, the evil, cunning witch is a woman, but I suppose that's the price you pay for intelligence when you have a vagina: sin.

The difference was so striking, I went back to some other movies to see what they were like.

Pocahontas follows the beats of her own drum. Her father suggests she marry a warrior, but that doesn't seem right to her. She doesn't know what her path should be, and she's still searching. When she meets John Smith and he seems ignorant to her ways, she teaches him, unafraid of having an opposing view. She stands her ground against her village and the Englishman and opposes their violence, speaking up against literally everybody.

Mulan seems to not be able to do anything right. She'll never make a good bride, she speaks to men when not spoken to, and is overall exactly the opposite of what anyone expects of a well-behaved woman. To protect her father, she goes to war in his place even though she will be killed if they find out she's a woman. She stands up for what's right and stands up for all of China. At the end, the Emperor praises her courage and heroism. Despite having initially hidden her gender, she stood before all of China a woman, and a hero.

Of course, in all of these movies, the woman finds love, but it's secondary, an afterthought to the real goal. Mulan doesn't go to war to find a husband, she goes to protect her father and prove herself. Pocahontas finds love in John Smith, but in this love she finds the power to protect and save her people, and ultimately decides to stay with them, when she could have skipped off merrily with her new boyfriend. Sound a little different from the cliche' waiting for a man to sweep her off her feet kind of story?

I was actually planning on watching these movies and counting the number of times a sexist or anti-feminist ideal was spouted, testing the idea that perhaps these movies aren't as bad as I thought. Halfway through Pocahontas I realized I had nothing bad to say about the movie, and about 20 minutes in to Mulan I was convinced she might be one ofthe strongest female characters written. These are actually good movies, with wonderful female characters for young girls to look up to.

It was a pleasant surprise, and I'm glad I returned to these movies. I'm really starting to think all the amazing animation and story-telling are wasted on the youth, because I did NOT appreciate these movies before now.

Gettin' the A

I love how college really isn't about getting the A. Well, for some people it is. But those people will always exist. I mean for the professors, most of the students, and most importantly, employers. I get the impression that everybody wants you to do well, and obviously it would be great if you got an A, but it's not necessarily what they're looking for. They're looking to see what classes you've taken, to see if you've challenged yourself, to see if you have skills they're looking for and skills maybe others don't have.

I can't help but feel like I'm winning college.

I was reflecting on the electives I took this year. Medicinal Chemistry for my advanced chemistry elective, and Business Issues for Engineers for my engineering elective. Medicinal Chemistry really educated me about the pharmaceutical industry in ways I could have never predicted. I got a really great understanding of what goes in to discovering a drug, improving a drug, getting it patented, and how things like intellectual property and health care affects the industry. I am so uber prepared for my internship this summer and I feel like I lucked in to it.

And then of course Business Issues for Engineers (from here on out referred to as BIES). I didn't even know there was such a thing as an "income statement" before this class, and now I can read it and understand what my impact as an engineer is on every line. I understand things like how companies choose customers, how they decide how much money to spend on advertising, how to analyze how they're doing financially, how to analyze the industry.

I got a pretty weak B- in Medicinal Chemistry, and I'm looking at something similar for BIES, but I really don't care. I struggled through the classes because the information was so new to me, but I think it's going to be invaluable to the rest of my career. I'm more prepared than other people who took easy classes and got A's, that's for sure.

I can't help but feel like employers get that, too. Here's hopin' anyways!

Passion For All Things Reslife

ResLife has taken over my life. Any of you who have ever known an RA are not in the least bit surprised by this realization. I'm at the point now where I'm so invested in my residents and my staff and my programs that it's all I can think about. And talk about. And sometimes I want to talk about or do something else, and reslife shows me how wrong I really was. No I didn't, I still just want to OBSESS OVER RESLIFE.

GAHH.

I was really upset by this, and other things, the other night, and spent a long time talking about it to Erik. When the conversation died down, Erik wanted to talk about something else because HE HAS A LIFE. I didn't even know how to react to something not reslife related. It didn't turn into an argument, but we both left with hurt feelings.

It's left me wondering a lot. I think ideally, wherever I end up for a job, I'll have as much passion and interest for that as I do for my RA position. But is it going to be so bad that I can't talk about anything else, also? What kind of implications does this have for my relationships with people outside of my career? Is this a bad thing? Should I just only be friends with people who are in the same idustry, so as to avoid boring them to death?

I know it seems like I'm blowing this out of proportion, but really I'm just thinking it to death. It's my, perhaps twisted, way of being introspective.

The Devil Wears Prada: An Analysis

I read an interesting article about The Devil Wears Prada from a feminist point of view. She brought up similar questions that I had when I first saw it, but I have a different idea about why this movie came to be.

For the record, I love this movie. In fact, I own it. If you just sit back and watch it for it's entertainment value, it's great. You really can't go wrong with Meryl Streep.

Anyways, in case you haven't seen it, the basic plot is that Anne Hathaway is a journalist and she can't get a job, so she takes one as assistant for the editor of a high fashion magazine. It's not the industry she wants, it's not even really doing something she wants to do, but she needs a job and experience so she takes it. And she gets sucked in, starts to not hate her overbearing, sometimes cruel boss. She spends a lot of time at her job, skipping out on a birthday party for an emergency. She ends up getting an assignment to go to Paris that her colleague really wanted.

The moral of the story is that she was wrong to do all those things and when she found a new job, she went around to everyone she wronged and apologized.

The argument is that she did nothing wrong, other than to have career aspirations and doing her job well.

The writer of the article argued it's because society doesn't think women should care about their career, they should only care about falling in love and making babies. That's part of it, sure. I mean, that's definitely the underlying cause of the problem anyways. But I don't think it's something quite so insidious as that.

I think women, in general, don't know what it takes to have a successful career.

The movie was geared towards women, it was based on a book geared towards women. At no point was a man ever thought to be the audience for this story, so I don't think you could reasonably blame men's preconceptions of women for the story being successful. I think it's that most women would look at the main character and think she'd done something wrong. She spent so much time at the office! She left the birthday party!

And the one that really gets me, the backstabbing.

She worked hard, and proved she was more competent than her colleague. She never tried to make her colleague look bad, or unfairly did anything to her, really. Her boss watched their performances, and decided that she was the better choice for going to Paris.

That's what happened.

And yet somehow, you think Anne Hathaway's character did something wrong. That's what really hurts women in the workplace. If you would turn down a pivotal assignment that could make or break your career because "someone else wanted it and you didn't want to hurt their feelings" then you don't DESERVE a career. She didn't do anything wrong! She just did her job, and proved that she was the better employee for the position. If she'd set out to make her colleague look bad so that she could go, then yeah, she'd be at fault, that's a pretty skeevy thing to do. But that's not what happened. Why should she try to undercut HERSELF though? She should own her accomplishment and be proud of herself, not wallow in pity for her friend who is a lousy employee. That's not her problem, that her colleague's problem.

And if her boyfriend really didn't like that she was so focused on her job, maybe he should dump her and find a girl out there who doesn't have career aspirations, because it sounds like that's his real problem. He's the problem in that relationship, not the other way around.

Overall, the main problem is that women I don't think have as many career-driven aspirations as men do, and why could that be? Maybe most careers are dominated by men, men they would have to work extra hard to convince that they belong. Maybe it never occurred to them they could enter those fields. Maybe someone actually told them those careers were for men.

I don't know why it is, but that's the real problem.

Girls Like Pink Because DNA Says Girls Like Pink.

I had some chatsies with my friend Jon the other night. Our opinions differ about a lot of things, and we used to have fights about it but we've gotten better about how we communicate with each other. Having to get over that, and both of us working on it to get better really made us good friends.

But I digress.

Our conversation was about men and women, and our differences. It's a classic nature vs. nurture problem. Is it genetic? If it is, does that justify the stereotypes? Is it society telling men and women what to do? How would we stop such a thing?

It's hard to prove either side with any certainty, and you can find research to support both. None of the research is really satisfying. If you want to show something is genetic and not taught, you'd have to ask someone who has not been influenced by society at all, and no such person exists, not even babies, really. Babies are far more perceptive than most people think. And even if babies were completely incapable of learning anything until they were like, 1-years-old, how on earth do you survey a baby?

So really, no matter which side you take, your argument and beliefs are bound to be supported by mostly speculation.

Personally?

I think that while nothing is completely taught or completely innate, gender differences are heavily influenced by society, parents, the media, etc. I think people make generalizations about gender based on their own experiences, decide they must be true because they hold for a large number of people, and then teach these biases to their kids. It becomes a vicious, never ending cycle. I think whatever genetics play a role can be overcome, and the assumption that we are a slave to our biology is unjust. If we can overcome disease, we can overcome gender differences.

That's why I get so frustrated when people say women are this, or men are that, and then justify it because it's "true." Sure, maybe it's true now, but you continuing to talk about it and proliferate the belief won't do anything to change it and make gender a more level playing field. I don't get angry because I think the assumptions are a lie, I get angry because I want it to change and making such statements prevent that from happening. They are the true source of the problem.

And I honestly have no idea how to fix it.

Feelings Are Stupid!

I've come to the conclusion that what people want, more than anything else, is vindication. We want to know that we're right about everything we think about ourselves. We think we're pretty, smart, hard-working, deserving. We think we're right to be happy or sad or angry at others. And we want to know, somehow, that we're right.

You may be one of those people who says that you don't care what other people think, but this isn't about that, this is about finding the truth. In fact, it's all the more powerful to someone that is fighting the system with an unpopular opinion. To know you're right, that you're doing the right thing, to remove all doubt about the situation and just have confidence in yourself, what more could you possibly ask for? It's about convincing not others, but yourself you're right.

I feel that this knowledge is key in my tactics in dealing with other people. When someone tells me how they feel, I tell them they're right to feel it. I tell them I understand where they're coming from. I let them know that it's okay to feel what they're feeling. Immediately, they're put at ease. They don't feel like they have to build up a whole case to prove to me that their feelings are just, or that they need to get defensive with me. They let their guards down and they feel more comfortable to share with me. Our emotions are so integral to who we are, what are the implications to having the wrong emotions?

When I was a freshman in high school, I was way overly concerned about my grades. I did awful on a Biology test once and it upset me to the point of tears. I went to the bathroom and sat on the floor in a stall, embarassed. Embarassed because I did poorly, embarassed because I didn't have the strength to suck it up and move on. Other people don't do well and they get over it. There are people out there suffering far worse, and I had the gall to pity myself over a test grade.

A friend at the time followed me in to the bathroom and sat down with me. It mortified me at first. What was she going to say when I told her why I was crying? She was going to think I was the most superficial person ever.

But she didn't. In fact, she told me it was okay to be upset. It was okay to feel what I was feeling, because it's how I reacted to it. We don't control our emotions that much, why would it be wrong for me to react a certain way? And it's funny, because as soon as she told me it was okay to be upset, I somehow felt a lot better. I wasn't beating myself up about it and conflicted over feeling the wrong things. I just felt it, and then it was gone.

She probably doesn't even remember having this conversation with me, but it was a pretty monumental moment in my life. Something I've obviously never forgotten. I remember it every time I talk to someone who's upset, because often, they're just trying to figure out how to explain what they feel how to justify it, and it makes everything so much worse. And you know what, you don't need justification. Have confidence in yourself, and just feel it.

We've Decided That Video Games Are Mature.

The other day, Erik linked me to an article. The author was upset because "All the good men are gone." She talked about how theyre all stuck in some sort of state of "pre-adulthood" because they all play video games. That seemed to be her only reason for thinking it, honestly. Naturally, Erik was upset, and the more I think about it, the MORE upset I get too. But now for entirely different reasons.

Since when is there only one way to act when you're in your 20's? Do we really all act the same way people did 20 years ago? No? I didn't think so. Nor should we aim to.

I think people are having trouble accepting that we are the new generation, and it's our turn to decide what that means. We get to decide what's cool, what's mature, what's appropriate. The last generation had it's chance, like every one does, and now we're up. Don't like what we decide? Tough.

I really like what my generation is deciding. I like that video games aren't just for little kids. I like that it's taboo to be against gay marriage (for the most part, at least). I like that normal gender roles are being challenged on a regular basis. That we're politically active. I mean, really, I'm excited for the current generation to get out so that we can get in and have our turn at the White House. I'm sure it won't be perfect, it can't be, but I have a trememendous amount of hope that we'll get a lot of it right. That when WE'RE 60-year-old fuddy duddies set in our ways, it won't be to hold women back or deny gay people basic rights. We'll screw some stuff up, sure, but we'll get some stuff right.

So when people get upset that "there aren't any good mean anymore," I'm sorry, but every time I look around I see guys women would be lucky to date. Yeah, they play video games and in general have an appreciation for things I suppose were traditionally just for kids, but my generation says that's the norm now, and I'm glad that's how we are.

Crossing My Fingers I Can Keep This Up

I'm back, but I won't promise for how long. I took a break, not because I didn't have anything to say, but frankly I just had too much to say. It's hard trying to compile all the thoughts going on in your head sometimes, and I'm very conscious of how I phrase things and who reads this. This is a place to express myself, but still, I'm a pretty guarded person. This is certainly not a bare-all blog.

So what has happened since I was last here? I don't even remember when that was. I suppose I could say that I've got a job for the summer. I've been promoted to resident director for next year. My diabetes seems to be more manageable lately.

Let's talk about that.

I suck at diabetes. Like, legitimately. My A1C's have always been bad, and the people who get concerned because they think they might be above 8.0 just blow my mind. Really, kudos if that's you, but psychologically I've just never been there. I armchair psycho-analyze myself about this all the time, why I am incapable of taking care of myself but others are. I want to blame other people, I want to blame myself, but I've found that blame just doesn't solve the problem. What did, however, is letting my parents back in.

Everyone knows and seems to accept that adolescent development involves pushing one's parents away. I was terrified of what would happen if I went to college and had never taken care of myself. I was always an independent person, but because there was a sense of urgency with my diabetes and health, I think I was more aggressive with my control over it. I made an almost violent move to take it all from my parents, and when I failed to manage it on my own, refused to admit defeat.

This winter break I finally talked to my parents, and in what was probably one of the hardest moves I've ever made, invited them back in to my care.

I don't know why, but now, I remember to test myself at least once a day. I remember to take my insulin. I remember to do site changes more often. I spend less time high. I'm actually excited to see what my next A1C will be. My control is no longer tight, but it's at least, in my view, acceptable. It's funny how something as simple as asking my mom to email me blood sugar reminders oculd have changed everything.

I don't think my parents were stupid, they knew I was struggling. It's not like my confession came as a shock, but somehow just me telling them, putting it out there instead of letting it be the elephant in the room, changed the entire dynamic. I don't tell them what my blood sugars are still, I'm still doing all the ordering and prescription legwork, but them just reminding me 4 times a day to check, even if I don't, I don't know, maybe it's just the thought that someone out there cares for me? That someone has enough concern to check in on me? That I'm not alone in the fight?

I guess I really don't want to question it, but just when I was going to give up and figure I just wouldn't ever be able to have kids, things are turning around. I really never thought I would be here. I really thought I was just a hopeless case. I was just dealt a bad hand and had to suck it up.

A depressing view, but it's the one I had adapted.

So to be here, where I am, feels impossible. I feel like I survived something. And I'm afraid to applaud myself for it because I'm afraid that the balances will tip and I'll be out of control again. It's really only been about 3 months now. It seems like it should be long enough to have a solid habit formed, but I've managed to break it before.

With tentative hope, I move forward.

Life in a Nutshell. Like, a Super Tiny Nutshell. More Like a Mustard Seed.

This semester has been hard. So hard that I've pulled all-nighters. I almost never do that. This is so new to me. Anyways, it's been so hard I haven't updated this in awhile. Which I don't really feel that bad about but some people harassed me so. For you people. Here is an update.

I'm at that point where I just don't care. I had a Modern Techniques in Chemistry test yesterday and the first question elicited this response in me. So I don't know. But I just can't care. Because caring leads to stressing and stressing leads to being unproductive.

I have a Medicinal Chemistry test tomorrow.

Wait, quick interruption to emphasize HOW MUCH CHEMICAL ENGINEERING HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH CHEMISTRY WHY AM I TAKING ALL THESE CHEMISTRY CLASSES OH MY GOD.

Anyways. Yes. Medicinal Chemistry test tomorrow. I've been like, kind of studying but really mostly not studying. Because I can't. You see, stressing leads to unproductiveness.

So I'm sitting here doing nothing because I'm so unstressed. Which is stressing me out. And being unproductive isn't helping.

Really the point is I have a week left and then a final and then I'm DONE with this semester. Next semester will be much more fun.

Yesterday was hug an RA day! Which was much more successful than hug a diabetic day. I really didn't get a whole lot of hugs until like...11:45 last night when a group of about 10-15 residents busted through my door and tackled me while I "studied" on my bed. It really made me feel...good. Like, appreciated. And wanted. And like this job is so totally worth it. So, kudos to you hug an RA day. Kudos. And Kudos to my residents. None of them read this or know I have a blog because that just sounds like DISASTER. But you know, kudos nonetheless.

I have like, a million parties to go. I have a Res-Life Ugly Sweater party to go to. PS don't have an ugly sweater but I REALLY want this. For obvious reasons. Also Erik's office party, RenXChange party part 1 and 2, plus friend stuff. Intensity.

The best weekend ever was truly the BEST weekend EVER. Go check these guys out. They will be playing at mine and Erik's wedding.

Finally, the Library cafe has the best radio station ever and I found it and have been listening to it all day. Makin' me happy.

That's kind of...an apt summation of my life at the moment. Promises to update more when my life is less hectic? :D

I'm Blue If I Was Green I Would Die

I dyed my hair blue this weekend.

Not like super blue, and definitely not all of it. I was afraid it wasn't going to work, and I was afraid I would turn everything blue. But no, it is a nice subtle blue on the very bottom most layer. The point was that it wouldn't be too in your face, but now that I've accomplished the subtle-ness I set out for, I find myself disappointed.

At first I was afraid of what people were going to say. I was, albeit very briefly, nervous that they would not like it. And now I am disappointed because nobody notice.

It was too subtle.

I'm really under the impression lately that if people aren't staring at you, you're doing something wrong. With my foray into wearing whatever I like, regardless of what the general consensus is, I find myself super comfortable with other people looking at me. In fact, the greatest little moments I experience are when I notice that other people have been staring. It makes me feel like there's something worth noticing about me, and that makes me feel like I'm doing something right.

They may be staring at me because I have a brown mustache from the hot chocolate I'm drinking, but it doesn't matter. I'm doing something that makes me stand out, and finally, that's making me feel good.

Bringing Awareness to Useless Awareness

I have a problem with the word "awareness."

The fall tends to be a time of disease awareness months. October is breast cancer and November is diabetes. But even outside of fall you can see ribbons everywhere symbolizing anything from autism to soldiers overseas. Everyone is trying to get their cause out there, everyone is trying to "raise awareness."

The problem is that this word is grossly misunderstood. The whole point is lost on a lot people simply because "they were already aware of cause xyz." Everybody knows there is breast cancer. Everybody thinks there should be a cure. What on earth does wearing a pink ribbon possibly fix? No cure is gotten from that. The argument is usually that if someone really wants to do something good they should raise money for the cure.

I'm not about to argue that people shouldn't raise money from causes, but perhaps I can shed some light on what I think truly effective "awareness" campaigns are.

Sure, you're aware of breast cancer. Sure, you think there should be a cure. However, do you have a true emotional understanding of the disease, how it affects its victims and families, how much pain women (and some men) go through because of it? Unless someone in your family has ever had breast cancer, it's likely your only "awareness" in this regard comes from Lifetime movies.

Truly successful awareness campaigns don't just make someone aware that a disease or cause exists, they make you want to do something. They make you aware of why the cause is important and why you should care. They're motivation to get more people involved in the fight.

So posting a status about where you like to put your purse, and making it vague enough so that it sounds like you're saying where you like to have sex? Essentially useless. You might as well have done nothing at all. All you did was make a provocative statement, but don't go around thinking that you actually HELPED the breast cancer cause.

Writing an article about how it affected you when your mother/grandmother/aunt/sister had breast cancer? Helping people understand why the cause is important, why they should care, why they should help? Well now we're getting somewhere.

I'd still like to applaud effort though. Trying anything, even if it's kind of a waste of time, still shows care and concern which is important.

Tomorrow is hug a diabetic day. Totally useless awareness campaign? Maybe. But I love hugs.

Happy Diabetes Birthday To Meeeee

Exactly nine years ago from today I was diagnosed with juvenile Diabetes. Which makes today my Diabetes Birthday! Which feels an awful lot like this:

http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j245/spacemanspiff27/Miscellaneous/Birthdaylolcat.jpg

Just kidding. It feels an awful lot like celebration! One hundred years ago this would not have been possible. I'd be dead. And here I am. And here are all my friends still alive and (mostly) sane.

For three days I got up, almost routinely, seven to eight times each night so that I could pee and drink about sixteen ounces of liquid. My eyesight had been getting worse. Though my mother is not a registered nurse or part of the medical field, somehow she just knew these were the symptoms of diabetes, so she brought me in, October 30, 2001.

The nurse laughed and insisted I was not diabetic. She suggested I get an appointment with an eye doctor to get glasses. My mother insisted, the nurse still refused. This still confuses me, we're not talking about a difficult, complicated, or expensive test. It's a urine sample, or a simple finger stick. Eventually she caved in, probably excited about the chance to rub a good ol' "I told you so" in to my mom's face when the results came back. Just another paranoid mom.

Unfortunately, that's not how the rest of the day went.

I went back to school, and forgot about everything, until I was called to the Principle's office. I started the slow walk down the hall.

I have to stop and elaborate about how I'm what psychologists call a "worryer." It's cute in kids, and stressful in adults. I never outgrew the habit of "What if the tree falls in to my room" "What if the floor collapses underneath me" "What if that plane crashes in to the playground." It sounds melodramatic, but it's how I thought when I was little, and it's how I still think today. Most of the time I'm wrong. What keeps the habit persistent is the few times I'm right.

"What if this is the last time I don't know I have diabetes."

I walked in to the room where my parents were there with the principle, as if this were normal. As if we had this meeting every week. I sat down trying to play along with the charade they'd set up.

My principle was an old nun, very traditional, very pompous, very set in her ways. Every student shut up as she walked by. She was Miss Trunchbull from Matilda in a habit. She clearly thought she was going to control what was about to happen, but my father, my typically quiet and unobtrusive father, had different plans. Though she began to speak, he put his hand up to her very firmly. It was the only time I'd ever seen anyone shut her up.

He looked at me and told me.

The next few days were an adventure for me. I started off throwing a fit at the idea of having an I.V. put in my arm, to very calmly sitting still to get a shot for dinner. Flowers and get-well cards (that I still have in my closet at home) from my classmates made me feel special. That Christmas I got a laptop.

The next few years are a different story.

So here I am. Still kickin'. Hopefully I can celebrate my 50th diabetes anniversary. It will certainly be one to be excited about.

I Don't Have a Good Title For This.

I'm much more mature this semester than I think I've ever been. I grew a LOT in the past couple of months. It's apparent in my time management. It's apparent in my stress management. It's apparent in my academics.

But I think it's most apparent in my friendships.

I can remember even in elementary school being completely uninterested in friends' problems. I've got my own problems, I don't have to deal with other people's issues! I equated it all to 'drama,' you know, the kind that everybody has to deal with as a teenager, the kind that some kids try to make while the rest of us try to avoid it. I just wanted to have fun with my friends, I didn't want to have to be sad and upset when I was with them.

Maybe it's because I didn't think I had friends worth fighting for, something I definitely regret thinking. Maybe it's because I didn't think other people's problems were really THAT bad. Maybe I just really was too caught up in my own life, too unsettled with how things were and how I wanted them to be. I don't think you can really help someone else until you're comfortable and secure with yourself.

Lately, I've found myself going out of my way to help other people, to listen to their issues, to want to help them. I know it's my job as an RA, but I'm not doing it because I have to, I honestly want to help other people, and I think I'm finally in a position in my life where I can do that.

I'm adjusted to where I am and where I'm going. I'm comfortable with who I am as a person, both my strengths and my weaknesses. I'm not overworked, overstressed, overwhelmed. I just AM and it's a good feeling.

Now that I have a good foundation, I'm finally able to take on others, and it feels really good.

I'm starting to figure out this whole friendship thing. I'm not all the way there yet, but putting myself out there for others seems to be a good start, because I'm not really under the impression that friendship is a one-way street.

Purple.

I am wearing purple today.

This isn't about gay marriage. This isn't about religion. This isn't even about civil rights.

This is about not tormenting children.

Everyday kids are bullied. They're called names, they're physically hurt, they're made to feel like crap. This isn't just by other kids, this is often by adults, indirectly even when adults don't stop bullying when they see it.

I try to imagine how awful it must be to feel like you have to hide something like this from the world. To feel like you have to change how you talk, how you dress, how you act, your mannerisms. To feel like you're constantly acting for other people. I try to imagine what it must feel like to need to lie to everybody around you, including your own family.

It must be terribly lonely. And suffocating.

I don't personally know how awful it is, but I do know that when I have children I will teach them to respect everybody, including the kids they don't really like. Including people that aren't anything like them. Including people they've never even met before. If my children bully others, I will stop them. I will teach them not to.

Let's not just stop with my future children though, let's talk about my friends. Every time someone says "faggot" or "that's gay" I stop them. I tell them I don't like it. I explain why. I understand that I probaly don't change people's minds, and they probably just stop saying it in front of me. But by speaking up about how I feel, I have not implicitly consented to that language. I've brought attention to the issue. I've not backed down just because it would be easier to do.

I'm not going to wipe out homophobia by wearing purple or writing about it on my blog. But I am showing that I don't tolerate it. I'm making it known that I refuse to back down and let other people think that homophobia is okay. Homophobia isn't going to stop, but it's going to stop around me.

ITSAPROCESS

In the past, I've taken my health sort of kind of seriously. I've tried to eat well, but it's hard. I don't have a very hard and fast schedule, I'm frequently on the move, and I'm embarrassed to admit that some nights my dinner resorts to kitkats. As a diabetic, I take pretty poor care of myself as well. It frightens me to no end. But it shouldn't, as this is all under my control. It's really not anybody else's fault how I take care of my body or how I treat myself. It's my own responsibility. As an adult, it's slowly becoming entirely my responsibility. I've been weening my parents off of the control over the entire course of my diabetic life, but I think I forgot in the process that that gave me more control and more responsibility.

I've tried in the past to eat better, but I don't think I ever committed to a long term goal. It was always because I randomly wanted to lose 5 pounds, completely unnecessarily. Over the summer I actually went to the food pyramid website and came up with a solid meal plan, and that worked for a little while. But it got really hard and a little expensive, and eventually stress derailed me.

Stress always derails me.

I get so afraid of failure that I stop trying. Which, I know, is basically the same thing, but psychologically I've got that confused.

They say it takes 2 weeks to build a habit, right? And they say a habit sticks better when it's written down. I'm not expecting anybody who reads this to hold me to any of this, and in fact, please don't. It's so psychologically counter-productive to my goals. It's weird I know but I have a frustrating sort of brain like that.

Starting Sunday, but practicing starting tomorrow, I'm going to have these goals:

1. For two weeks, I'll just focus on my eating. I'll follow a meal plan that will allow for my cafeteria trying really hard to throw me off. I want to lower my cholesterol and feel a lot better about how I eat. I put this before focusing on diabetes because better eating habits will lead to better control of my diabetes.

2. For another two weeks, I'll focus on my diabetes. By that time, the bruises on my stomach from the CGM should be cleared up, so I can use it again. Don't get me started on this stupid thing, I could literally go on for hours about how something so useful could be so unusable. My overall goal will be to get my A1C below 8. I know that might be shocking that it's NOT, but look, it's been a rough past like...forever. Diabetes has psychologically taken its toll on me and for the most part my way of dealing with it has been to ignore it. I can't do that forever, I know that. It's really time for me to grow up.

3. For the final two weeks, I'll start focusing on getting regular exercise in. Exercise usually throws my diabetes off and makes everything difficult, that's why I put this at the end. If exercising makes things difficult this time around, I will not focus on it some, and instead try to find a regimen that works for me and my needs, not miserably force my diabetes to work for my exercise. That has never worked.

At that point it will be Christmas and my main focus is going to be on keeping my pattern regular. I think at first it will be stressful, but in the long run I will have less stress as I stop worrying about how much I'm not taking care of myself.

I think I'm really motivated because I really changed my study habits for the better this semester. I was doing awful last year, but this year my time management skills are unbelievable, and I kept it up long-term, and I think I can use that confidence and ability to channel my health into something good. I feel really good about this.

I really don't want to blog about this regularly because that feels so amazingly cheesy and stupid. I'm mostly putting it here to keep myself honest.

Like Kanye always says: #ITSAPROCESS