Well, this month is shot for keeping up with my blog. Actually, many of my resolutions went out the window over the last couple weeks. I don't even know where to begin, but I can't just simply pretend that nothing of any importance has been going on. That said, let me begin the arduous task of getting caught up.
On Wednesday the eighth I I learned that Jhumpa Lahiri would be conducting a reading from her first novel The Namesake over at a Lutheran church in the District. I had a recitation that night that I needed to attend, but I really wanted to go see this event. I asked my professor for permission to miss this one and it was granted, provided that I along with two other classmates that would be joining me, write a one page paper about the reading. We agreed. When we first arrived at the church, I sent Andrew over to the bookstore that was sponsoring the event to purchase Interpreter of Maladies (Lahiri's collection of nine stories that won her a Pulitzer in 2000, a very extraordinary achievement for a collection, a female author, and a debut work no less) and the Namesake so I could have the author autograph them afterward. My friend and I located our other classmate who was already there and reserving seats for us. We sat down in the already crowded church and waited for Andrew to join us. The pew we were sitting on was tightly packed. Someone at the other end had their dry cleaning with them and it was occupying a significant portion of space. When Andrew came back we were practically sitting on top of one another. I made a comment and someone at the other end overheard me and pushed over the tiniest bit. Things began to get underway when someone made some introductory comments about Lahiri and her recent success. We were informed that Namesake had recently made it to the number one position on the New York Times Best Seller List. It seems she has passed the litmus test for authors. We were told that the church pews were designed to hold some 800 worshipers and as a further testament to Lahiri's tremendous popularity these were all filled to capacity as well as the space above in the balcony near the organ and also the floor space below the stage was pretty full. At some point during these introductory remarks, I turned to Andrew at my left and whispered, "What was that he said? I missed it." I was trying to take some notes for the paper I would have to write later on. Andrew responded and an elderly lady seated in front of us turned around to glare at us and say, "Could you please be quiet?" in a very condescending tone. I felt my face flush with embarrassment and I resigned not to say another word. Just then Lahiri stepped in front of the microphone and explained that she would be reading from chapter two of the Namesake. She went over some details that we would need to know in order to appreciate the reading in the context of the first chapter. Taken directly from the paper I typed up for my English professor who excused me from recitation that night:
The two main characters were a man and wife recently arrived in America from India to start a new life. The woman had recently given birth to a baby and the couple was anxiously awaiting correspondence from the matriarch of the family, for she was traditionally expected to provide the new family members with a name. The mother and father find that in America a baby cannot be released from the hospital without a birth certificate and that it is impossible to get a birth certificate until a name has been selected for the child. To temporarily resolve the problem the child is given a pet name by his father: Gogol.
It is important to mention that during Lahiri's reading the woman occupying the seat in front of us, who had earlier used that condescending tone with me when I dared to whisper to Andrew, spoke intermittently to the man beside her, that is, when he was actually conscious for it. It is so amazing how some social rules only apply to some people.
At the end of the reading, Lahiri answered some questions from the audience through a mediator. We could not hear most of these because some rude individuals were excusing themselves from their seats to hurry over to the bookstore across the street so as to reserve a good spot in line for autographs. Andrew, my friends, and I remained until the bitter end. When we finally walked over, there was a rather imposing line winding out the door. I slipped inside to establish what the line was assembled for: purchasing books or autographs. It was for autographs, but also while I was inside learned that it was possible just to leave your books there and pick them up at a later date rather than standing around and waiting. We opted to do that. My friends purchased their books and we left them there. We went off in search of a place to eat and we ended up at Charlie Chiang's Restaurant where we discussed our thoughts on the entire experience. We made light of how rude some of the other people who attended the event were. I picked up my books the next night. We had some trouble finding the place by vehicle since we had Metro-ed over the night before. When I opened my books up, I saw that the author had just signed her name on the title pages of both of my books, which was fine with me. Only one other time in my life have I gotten an autograph and that was from Johnnie M. Clark, the author of Guns Up!. I have since parted with the bookmark he had printed his name on. That man had come to speak to my Honors English class in the 6th grade. At the time we were doing a whole unit on the 1960s. Lahiri's autograph is much more special to me and I will likely keep it for as long as I live.
As far as grades go, I haven't turned in any more assignments for Western Civilization, but we did have a quiz recently. Out of five questions I managed to miss one. The question was something to the effect of name the intellectual movement of the Middle Ages and I wrote: "scholasticism? It's all running together... " The correct answer he was looking for humanism. I didn't get the extra credit question either that asked us to name two democratic candidates running for the next presidential election. Like I keep up with politics. Yeah, right. Still, from what comments I overheard before subsequent classes started from other students I did pretty well comparatively. I have turned in several assignments for my English class, including the first paper project which I chose to write about "Interpreter of Maladies" the short story featured in my Norton anthology that first introduced me to Lahiri's work, but I haven't gotten all of them back yet. My professor says he will have the paper projects ready for us on Monday to hand back. I really hope I did well. I recently submitted that paper along with two poems and a short story to a campus publication called the GMU Review. A graphic image I designed way back when was featured on the first page of the last edition. Additionally, my professor has four other papers of mine, the one on Lahiri's reading, the one I wrote on the Yellow Wallpaper (that was handed back to me once already and I got a check/check plus on it, guess he couldn't decide what to give me on it, but I handed it back in with a response to his comments), the one I handed in on Monday concerning Sylvia Plath's poem "Daddy", and a paper I wrote for Wednesday on "The Second Coming" by Yeats. In Music, we recently had our mid-term exam and I received my scan-tron back with "congratulations highest score" printed at the top. When I read that, let a little gasp that got the attention of the class, though that wasn't my intention. I earned a 94 on that. Actually, a 96 because there was a listening sample (specifically Vivaldi's the Four Seasons) where we were asked to say if it was concerto grosso or concerto solo and it whether it was from the Baroque or Classical era. I marked that it was concerto gross from the Baroque because in addition to the violins I distinctly heard harpsichord playing the basso continuo (though admittedly, I did not realize it was playing the basso continuo at the time of the test). As far as I was aware, more than one instrument pitted against the orchestra did not constitute a solo performance. She gave two points to everyone who marked it as Baroque, either grosso or solo. When I lined up with everyone else who needed their grades adjusted and the professor turned to me and asked, "You too?" I said, "Yeah." She made the amendment to her grade book and commented, "So, that means you have a 96 instead of a 94." Other students waiting around overheard her and one even said, "Does that mean you'll curve the grade to 96?" The teacher told him, "No." and laughed. I wanted to say that really would only serve to help me. Anyway, I was happy with my performance because I had only made a 90 on the last exam. These are really challenging because it takes a certain amount of divination, even though we are provided with a study guide, to adequately prepare for the test. She doesn't always inform us of everything that will be on the exams within her study guide. You just have to gage the importance she places on certain things, for example she is a pianist so the section we just did on piano will be covered extensively on the next exam. For Chinese Philosophy and Religious Traditions, I have only been given one assignment so far and that was a take home mid-term. It featured five essay questions, each approximately 750 words in length. We were given a week to complete the assignment and we didn't even have to come to class for two days (which didn't help me any since I had to stay for a concert on the Monday night and I had to stay for recitation on the Wednesday night). I ended up saving the whole thing for the weekend. That was all fine and good until while I was working on it I began to have a migraine that incapacitated me for two entire days, culminating in a visit to a doctor's office for treatment.
My weekend consists of four days that I don't have class on: Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. My headache started on Saturday and continued through to Sunday. I couldn't make much progress with my paper because I could not see the monitor (I was experiencing auras, bright lights that obstruct my vision when I'm having a migraine, to me it looks like just like lightning) and I kept vomiting, another unpleasant aspect of migraine headaches that I typically experience. There of course is also the pounding headache to be contended with too. There wasn't much Andrew could do for me other than bring me the trash can when I needed it, lay down with me in bed and try to console me, and eventually take me to a doctor. The doctor determined from what I had told her that my headache was stress-induced. The last one I had was at school which had started up in the middle of Music and kept going strong through my Chinese Philosophy and Religious Traditions class. I eventually had to excuse myself to go throw up. I explained to Dr. Ro after class what was wrong with me. He put and arm around my shoulders and told me to go home and feel better. I did. This is important to mention this because he was later very understanding when I couldn't hand in my mid-term on time. The time before that, my most recent migraine was on the way out to Massachusetts for my Aunt Joyce's funeral over the summer. I hadn't seen most of that side of my family in some twelve years. It was a very stressful time for me and we hadn't even made it out of Arlington when I began to toss my cookies into a shopping bag while we were stopped at a gas station. Fortunately, I didn't have another when we arrived. I'm not sure how I managed that. I think I convinced myself that I had to keep it together for my family's sake, especially my mother. I knew she would really need me and she did. I was there for her, as best as I could be. So anyway, I explained to the doctor that I sought her attention because I needed all of my facilities in order to write the three papers I had due for Monday. One of them was already finished, a short response for English on Sylvia Plath's poem "Daddy", but I still wanted to write something for Western Civilization (we are given six paper assignments over the course of the semester and we only have to hand in four if we want to because only four grades will count toward our average. I had already opted not to do one of the two "freebies".) as well as complete my mid-term for Chinese Philosophy and Religious Traditions. The doctor listened to me explain all of this, along with my frustration of not knowing whether my headaches were sinus or stress-induced and she concluded that it was in fact stress that was causing my migraines. I did tell her that both < ahref="http://www.advil.com/">Advil and sinus medication did nothing for me. She prescribed me a shot of Imitrex to be administered into my arm there in the office along with an anti nausea shot to be had in my butt cheek. I was no longer feeling nauseated so I declined that second shot. I did, however, take the Imitrex which made my head feel cold and it did absolutely nothing for my sensitivity to light, which at the time, was troubling me the most. It cost a whopping $75. I was given three prescriptions, one for Imitrex (since I couldn't remember if that was what I had been given before in the past that didn't work for me), some anti-nausea pills, and an antidepressant to control my anxiety. Imitrex was so expensive I only filled three pills of the 20 she prescribed me. They were on the order of $20 each. I have yet to use them. I have also yet to use the anti-nausea pills since my nausea only accompanies my migraines and I have been fortunate enough not to have another one (yet). I think the antidepressant has been helping with that. It is called Nortriptyline and I don't know much about it other than what I have learned through my own recent and limited experience with it. Basically, I don't worry anymore. My friends say that I have been acting like someone turned the volume down on me. I don't feel anxious. My heart doesn't rage against my chest whenever I call to mind all of the papers I have due or all of the responsibilities I have shouldered. Instead, I feel a slight tingly sensation whenever I think of something that might have previously gotten me going. And I sleep so well now. The doctor wanted to make certain that would take her advice and go see a neurologist she recommended so she limited the quantity of pills she prescribed me. I only have twenty of them and the soonest appointment I could get with the neurologist was something on the order of twenty-five days away. The information that came with my antidepressant clearly said not to stop taking the medicine no matter what. I am going to have to unless this doctor returns the call I made explaining this situation. She anticipated that I would be seen sooner. Unfortunately, that didn't work out so well. Good thing I am on this antidepressant or else I'd be pretty freaked out by now. At first, I was worried that people would think I'm crazy, especially my family members, when I told them about this whole ordeal, but specifically about the drug I'm on. Surprisingly, everyone has been quite supportive. So much so that I have ventured to tell friends at school and even two of my teachers. My friends shared with me their college pressure horror stories. One hadn't slept in three days. While I was shocked that other students were feeling the effects and not exhibiting them to my awareness, I was relieved to find that there were other occupants in my boat with me. When I approached Dr. Ro on Monday to request more time for my mid-term he granted it, almost brushing the matter off. He didn't even glance at my doctor's note. When I handed in my twelve completed pages in to him on Wednesday I had stapled my doctor's note to the front so he couldn't miss it. He read it and said, "Oh, migraine." I told him yeah and explained how incapacitated I was and that I had a migraine in his class once before. He remembered and we got to discussing other things. He assured me that he would not deduct any points from my grade. I was really happy to hear that.
I later went and saw my English professor to talk about short poetry paper we have coming up. I had remained after class earlier to speak with him, but there were several other students waiting for his attention and he received them first. One asked the question I had planned on asking. He gave her an answer and I slowly backed up and walked away. Before I reached the exit, I heard my name called. I turned and was asked if there as something that I needed I explained that he just answered my question and that I wasn't upset with him, just upset that what I wanted to do with my paper (an interpretation) wasn't what he was anticipating from us. He said that would actually be fine and that we could discuss it later, either in his office or via e-mail. I was following up on that when I visited him in his office. I somehow got to telling him about my migraine over the weekend and about how other students told me what they had been through over mid-terms. I told him that in retrospect it might have seen weird for me to make motions to leave the classroom like I did, but that I am on a new medication for my headaches that has been affecting my behavior in certain social situations. He said I wasn't acting weird and the look he gave me was just concern for whatever I needed from him at the time. With that clarified I think we both felt a little better. He also asked me about the English Honors Program he had recommended me for the week before. I told him that I didn't think I would do it because I'm already stressed out now (that was my jumping off point for telling him about my migraines, now that I think about it). I also said that I feel I am being challenged and when and where I don't I raise the bar myself. He expressed that he felt that was the precise reason why I should participate in the Honors Program. I mentioned that I am on two Honor Societies already and that they take up some of my free time. He assured me that it wouldn't mean more work. More work doesn't concern me, more effort does. Knowing that I up the ante on my own and that would make things overwhelming for me, I continued to decline. I eventually conceded that I still have time to think about it, the classes are 400 level so I need not take them until I'm a senior and I am only presently a sophomore. He seemed disappointed and then I divulged something that I probably shouldn't have: that I know for a fact that he recommended several other students from my class. I guess I was trying to point out that even if i don't join some other people definitely would (law of averages). He told me that he didn't ask everyone and I named a few he didn't and a several more that he did. He wanted to know if we had been discussing this amongst ourselves and I told him we had because we wanted to know how other people were confronting this enormous decision. Anyway, I guess I also did mean to say I don't really feel special for having been chosen and I may have even hurt his feelings, though that isn't quite the way to put it. I know I impress him with my abilities, maybe even more so than some of the others he asked. I can't say for sure, I don't read their papers when they are handed back. But I do read mine. Anyway, I think this decision contributed to my migraine I had over the weekend. I had received one e-mail from my professor and another from the director of the program. I felt somewhat pressured. On top of that, Andrew had said something to the effect that he would be disappointed if opted not to take this opportunity when I first informed him of it. One of my friends from class had felt flattered. I was amazed when she seemed so excited, but then again, she only takes a single solitary class at a time she can probably handle it. And I also don't know how hard she pushes herself, if it is near as hard as I do. I have no answer right now to any of these questions. I just know I have to decide what is in my very best interests when the time comes and I know this opportunity won't go away. I can always take it if I want to. On my way out of his office, I asked my professor if he knew the director of the Linguistics program. He gave me a funny look and said sure, that's him right there. We were passing a chair in the lobby with two people seated on it when he said that. I told him, oh ok, because I was going to ask you to introduce me. He made our introductions and I informed the man that I am an undergraduate English major with a Linguistics concentration. He asked if I had gotten the signature I need to get into my graduate-level courses and I told him that no, I haven't and that I was expecting Dr. Chamberlain, who taught my first General Linguistics class, to provide me with that. I was thus informed that it has to come from someone within the Linguistics dept. and Dr. Chamberlain is director of Modern and Classical Languages. He further told me to come see him and that he would provide me with what I needed. I saw him later that evening, at Recitation. We were broken up into our concentrations. I told him then that I was intent on getting my Master's from GMU in Linguistics and he lowered the boom on me: only 6 of my graduate credits that I will be taking for my concentration would apply to my Master's...boy, was I ever disappointed. Good thing I was on the antidepressant, because I couldn't feel it. Unfortunately, as a writer, I utilize those strong surges of emotion to be effective at what I do - this could turn into a bigger problem for me than it is worth to eliminate my propensity to get migraine headaches.
Other resolutions I haven't been diligent about, besides keeping up with regular entries: I've been smoking, quite a lot actually. I feel disgusting, but I also feel like I can't stop either. I feel lethargic and somewhat detached now when I don't have nicotine in my system and to me that spells a.d.d.i.c.t.i.o.n. I need to stop on my own before Andrew finds out how serious this is. I tried so hard over the summer and manged to quit and here I am, back again. My nails are now short, not because I chewed them, but because someone said something about how they vary in length. They are all of equal length now. I spent a good hour before my first class filing them into neat little squares. I hadn't done that before then because I liked being able to note how long they have gotten and really, only one nail was almost original from when I started not to bite them (my left pinkie nail). She specifically directed comments to that one. Oh well. At least I have managed some time for some more personal reading. I finished Piers Anthony's Realty Check and was disappointed with it. I think the idea behind the story was solid, but he just seems to convey to me that he is getting old and I can't exactly explain why. I also read a terrific book by Charlaine Harris titled Dead Until Dark. It kind of fits under the heading of "brain trash", but it was enjoyable brain trash. It concerns a waitress in Louisiana with a talent (or a "disability" as the character explains it) for reading minds who falls head over heels for a vampire (who are now "out of the closet", as the author puts it). I bought the two follow-on books in the series and have since started reading Living Dead in Dallas.
Another update: Darwin the iguana is recovering well from her spay surgery. She has even started to shed in the area of her stitches. She is healthy, eating well, and very active. Unfortunately, she is also still exhibiting aggressive behavior. She still has a little while longer before we just decide that is her new temperament. Spay surgery has a tendency to alleviate aggression, but in her case she might be the exception. I guess we'll see.
I think that about does it. I don't want to upload the paper I wrote on Sylvia Plath's poem because I feel that it won't make a lot of sense to anyone who reads it because it also concerns three criticisms that are featured in my textbook. I don't want to upload the response to Yeats's "The Second Coming" because the assignment consisted of following some directions designed to make us read closely that my professor e-mailed to us. That also would make little sense to anyone who would read it, not having read his instructions. Everything else that comes to mind as far as updates go seem unimportant. I think I have done well at expressing what has been going on that matters. I have some homework I have to get out of the way (some reading in my Western Civilization text, about 40 pages in all) that I abandoned to compose this entry that I need to get back to. There's another ten pages or so in the primary source reader and then two papers that are due on Wednesday, one on a classical concert I saw performed at GMU last Monday (a concert report) for Music Appreciation and the other five pages on a poem (I have selected "The Second Coming" to work with) that involves explaining what makes the poem of our choice poetry for my English class. I'm not frenzied (not yet, anyway), but I really want to have everything done before the weekend is out so I can get ahead in my assignments for the next weekend. I will have to do a paper for Western Civilization because I have expended all of my opportunities to skip them and the final draft of my poetry paper will be due on that following Monday. I call this tactic stress management. Well, I am off now to go continue reading. I'll try to make time to write more entries. Don't worry, this isn't the last you'll ever hear from me. :)
-- CrystalShiloh @ 02:28 PM