<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737</id><updated>2011-07-07T14:10:29.761-07:00</updated><category term='Trips'/><category term='Summer'/><category term='Calls'/><category term='GRE'/><category term='Yoopers'/><category term='Dull'/><category term='Eh'/><category term='Fin'/><category term='Frustration'/><category term='Couer d&apos;Alene'/><category term='Over'/><category term='Fall Semester'/><category term='Family'/><category term='Buckeye'/><category term='Date'/><category term='death'/><category term='Acceptance'/><category term='September'/><category term='Phonecalls'/><category term='Cynicism'/><category term='Change'/><category term='Twilight'/><category term='America'/><category term='home'/><category term='New'/><category term='Moving'/><category term='I hate people'/><category term='Dissatisfied'/><category term='Election'/><category term='Hell'/><category term='Prospectus'/><category term='Ohio State'/><category term='Awe'/><category term='3 Year Appointment'/><category term='Wallace'/><category term='Conference'/><category term='PhD'/><category term='Spokane'/><category term='Obama'/><category term='Ex'/><category term='History'/><category term='President'/><category term='2008'/><category term='teaching'/><category term='Magic'/><category term='Amazement'/><category term='Washington'/><category term='wrong'/><category term='Dating Students'/><category term='Happy'/><category term='lost'/><category term='Vaggie Tales'/><category term='Sheer joy'/><category term='Done'/><category term='innocent'/><category term='Yes We Can'/><category term='Envision Spokane'/><category term='Rate My Professor'/><category term='Northern Michigan University'/><category term='bored'/><category term='Disbelief'/><category term='grades'/><category term='Happiness'/><category term='depression'/><category term='Da UP'/><category term='E-mail'/><category term='GTA'/><category term='Drunkness'/><category term='Love'/><category term='The Upper Peninsula'/><category term='Birthdays'/><category term='I&apos;m going to die'/><category term='Boys'/><category term='Absent'/><category term='Locus of Control'/><category term='Movies'/><category term='Training'/><category term='Spring Break'/><category term='Thesis'/><category term='Dr. KP'/><category term='Fan'/><category term='Snowboarding'/><category term='Shit'/><title type='text'>I Hear the Bells</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>34</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-1449922931461909011</id><published>2009-07-18T16:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T16:43:15.769-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating Students'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ohio State'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Frustration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thesis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Summer'/><title type='text'>We'll Never Be Ready If We Keep Waiting For The Perfect Time To Come...</title><content type='html'>Where to begin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've signed my life away to Ohio State for the next four years. I received two rejection letters from Michigan State and a rejection letter and rejection e-mail from Purdue. As if I didn't get the message and feel bad about myself the first time around. I have still yet to hear from The University of Ohio and The University of Kentucky. I pay the pricks quite a bit of money jut to apply and they can't have the common decency to just tell me I'm not good enough. So I'll go where they want me. Cause quite frankly, who doesn't want to be somewhere they're wanted?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thesis. Well, that's making me upset just having to talk about it. My advisor is the biggest ditz ever. And she has made my life a living hell because her head is nowhere except in the clouds. My thesis should/could have been done 2 to 3 months ago. Now I have more hoops to jump through. I have less than two months to collect my data (needless to say find the subjects in a dwindling summer school population to collect the data from), do data treatment, interpret the results, write up the final part of it, and do revisions. And, come to find out during my visit to Columbus last week that there is no grace period for me to finish my thesis. I can't begin school until its done. So yeah, I'm a bit pissed. Looks like I'll just be taking a TON of time off of work that I can't afford to. Cause little girl doesn't get paid by O. State. until the end of October. BLAH! I'm done being angry here. The thesis isn't done and it isn't for my lack of trying. The fact that I'm getting screwed in this whole thing by the person who is supposed to be facilitating my success makes me want to spit. But enough of that for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been dating a boy for a few months now. This boy was a student of mine last semester. I know I know... scandelous. Only kinda. He's a year older than I am. So we've been dating. Well, at least it started out as dating. I really thought I liked this kid. He enjoys things that I do, we have great conversations, and we have a lot of fun together. The kid acted like he really liked me for the first month we were dating. Called me everyday of his own accord, made comments like "I really like your friends", "I think your brother-in-law and I would really get long" and "Well, yeah, I want to go to the wedding. It will give us a chance to hang out." All statements from someone you think is really interested right? Maybe he was. He even wanted me to meet his entire family! Now he barely calls me. I barely get to see him as it is because he's in Mt. Pleasant/Lansing while I'm in GR and he works 7 days a week anywhere from 9 to 15 hours each day. Go figure. Well, the phone calls stopped coming. Every time I would write him off though and just accept it as it was, he would call me again. Then nothing again. Then I say oh well, I tried, and he calls me again. But after the texts I got from him the other night, I feel like I'm just a "booty call" for him. Which home girl does not do. I've been doing that dating thing for two years now. I'm tired of it. I'm looking for a friend and someone who wants to be around. Someone who cares and wants to hear how my day was and who wants to share life events, friends, and family with me. Not saying I need to get married anytime soon, or that I need a serious relationship. But it seems sucky that after two years of being single, I can't find a single person that I'm interested in. I think something might be wrong with me. Maybe I smell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that all sounded like me being the single lonely girl that just really wants a boyfriend. That's not it at all. Quite frankly I enjoy the solitude most of the time and I like being able to do whatever I want whenever I want. But I do miss having that person around to share my life with. I want someone to hear the highs and lows and be genuinely interested in all of it, and want to share the same with me. I've got a big heart and a lot of love to offer. I just wish someone would accept it and reciprocate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway... Summer has been crazy busy. I have been in such high social demand I can't believe it! I am however beginning to feel guilty about not spending much time with the parentals. So I declined on an invitation to join Grit, Matty, etc. up in Baldwin and Silver Lake today. I went and had lunch with grams, took a walk through the fields at my park with my mom. We looked at the wildflowers and picked lots of blackberries and mulberries. It was an extremely enjoyable time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also picked an &lt;a href="http://www.myplacehibernia.com/"&gt;apartment&lt;/a&gt; in Columbus to live in. It's a bit of a drive to campus, but I'm okay with that. Cause after only two visits to Columbus, I'm already feeling a bit overwhelmed at the size of the city and this will be at least a small escape into a wooded area where there are no woods. On top of that, the apartment is of a generous size with some extra perks, so if you are reading this, please come visit me. An open and standing invitation for anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;... Hold Me Steady, We'll Never Be Ready, And We Don't Know. Though We Can't See, Just Walk On Down This Road With Me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-1449922931461909011?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/1449922931461909011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=1449922931461909011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/1449922931461909011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/1449922931461909011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2009/07/well-never-be-ready-if-we-keep-waiting.html' title='We&apos;ll Never Be Ready If We Keep Waiting For The Perfect Time To Come...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-7109680963926163252</id><published>2009-03-22T16:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T18:36:47.107-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Snowboarding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Washington'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spring Break'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spokane'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Envision Spokane'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Couer d&apos;Alene'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wallace'/><title type='text'>Spokane Has Nicknames Like Spokompton...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Spring Break 2009: Part I&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I got back from spring break about a week ago. I took March 4th through the 15th to do a little traveling out West, and it was interesting to say the least. My first leg of the trip was Spokane, Washington. A trip I made with my sister to go visit cousin Chad. [for my own purposes, I'm going to do a day-by-day account].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wednesday 3/4&lt;/strong&gt;: Kerry and I flew out of GR Airport at 8:00 pm and flew to Minneaplis and after an hour layover to Spokane. We got in [on our time about 2 AM] at 11PM. We drove back to Matt and Jill's house [where Chad is shacking up] and were up until [4AM] 1AM discussing plans for our days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thursday 3/5&lt;/strong&gt;: Kerry and I slept in until [1 PM] 11 AM. We had a small breakfast and waited for Chad to get back from work. He arrived a little after 1 pm and from there we went for a little drive in search of a place called Green Blough. There were some really nice views of the mountains and we even found some really cute orchards for Chad to frequent in the spring/summer when they're actually open again. And, of course, as soon as we got to the mountains, my batteries in my camera died. After we drove around for a while we went to the REI store. I ended up spending $100 on a pair of nice hiking boots, a new hat, smart wool socks, and lithium batteries. We went to this really neat little grocery store/gas station that carried only organic goods. I wasn't surprised at Chad's food store selection since he's such a damn dirty hippie [haha]. We got some veggies and then we stopped at a meat market and got some steaks. I was in charge of cutting up the potatoes. Chad insisted that they be cut super thin so that they baked up correctly, and of course in my efforts to follow directions, I cut my finger. Anyway, the food made it to the table sans blood and we had a really nice meal. Kerry and I were introduced to an Australian treat that is a substitute for Ketchup. You mix sweet chili sauce and sour cream together and then dip your thin cut, seasoned, baked potatoes and dip them in it. Pretty tasty if I do say so myself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friday 3/6&lt;/strong&gt;: We had to get up early because we were hanging with Chad for the day. First, we went and had breakfast with Chad's friend Marianne. Marianne is an older lady, probably around my mothers age, and is one of the coolest people I've met. She moved to the US when she was either 22 or 23 with $75 in her pocket. In fact, she lived in Ann Arbor the first year or two she was here. She's moved all over the country and has literally traveled all over the world. It was a neat experience talking with her, but our visit was a bit short lived. Chad had some work he had to do at the office, so Kerry and I went to the art fair. It was boasted as the largest art fair in the country. That was definately a lie! Not that I've been to bigger, but I've been to art fairs the same size easily. The first booth we stopped at was a paper flower thing, and they were super pretty [and super expensive] and Kerry and I both ended up buying one. And besides some organic honey and soup for Chad, thats all we purchased there. Then, we sat and waited for Chad for over an hour to come pick us up. It was in this time that I found a little stand with those pamphlets that advertise little towns and things to do in the surrounding areas. I grabbed a few and we looked through them while we waited. Chad finally came and got us and then we started our canvassing journey with Chad. Kerry and I were employed by Chad to help him canvas for &lt;a href="http://envisionspokane.org/home/"&gt;Envision Spokane&lt;/a&gt;. This is a pretty large project that a &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/ScbUlHHI0aI/AAAAAAAAAEI/V_JdJPzJR4Y/s1600-h/DSC05586.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316170144186683810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 188px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 274px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/ScbUlHHI0aI/AAAAAAAAAEI/V_JdJPzJR4Y/s320/DSC05586.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;lawyer has undertaken not only here, but in other parts of the country as well. From what I understand, he started it in Pennsylvania and that case has the possibility of making it to the Supreme Court. Anyway, its pretty interesting, especially if you're at all interested in politics, because its actually trying to bring real democracy back to the people. I suggest checking it out! Anyway, we spent the entire afternoon canvassing a neighborhood. We were pretty parched and hungry from walking around, so we went to a bar downtown and had a beer and some water. As soon as Matt and Jill were home from work, we met them for dinner at the Bulls Head [a little bar/resturaunt reminiscient of an English pub]. I was a bit disappointed with my food, but oh well. Afterwards we went and played pool at another bar. The first game we played, and my first or second shot, I ended up putting the 8 ball in by accident. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/ScbWNh7M_eI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/OjswNlrpCCU/s1600-h/DSC05590.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316171938090778082" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 274px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 183px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/ScbWNh7M_eI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/OjswNlrpCCU/s320/DSC05590.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I didn't even see it, and apparently neither did Chad or Matt. So, Kerry and Jill sneakily retrieved it and put it back on the table and neither of them had any idea of what happened until we were leaving and Kerry told Chad. Well, Matt and Jill were on a team and then it was Chad, Kerry, and I as the opposition. We won all 3 or 4 games we played. I even redeemed myself at the end by sinking the last 2 shots of the final game for the win! &lt;a href="http://envisionspokane.org/home/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saturday 3/7&lt;/strong&gt;: Skiing/Snowboarding Day! I was so excited about this chance to get out on the slopes for the first time in three years! I know I was way over confident going into it, as I'd only been snowboarding once before, but I figured it would be like riding a bike! We headed to Chewelah, WA which is home to &lt;a href="http://www.ski49n.com/"&gt;49 Degrees North&lt;/a&gt;! Well, after spending $36 on a lift pass and &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/ScbYJ0d-CWI/AAAAAAAAAEY/3R_n8hAYpQ8/s1600-h/DSC05601.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316174073372215650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/ScbYJ0d-CWI/AAAAAAAAAEY/3R_n8hAYpQ8/s200/DSC05601.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;rental, we headed over to the bunny hill. The first run for me took quite a while. I am pretty sure I fell every ten feet as I was trying to get my body used to the feeling and balance of turning and stopping. Not a pretty sight. The second run down was a bit better. I made it at least 50 feet between each fall! And, I was actually getting a lot better at stopping both toe and heel directions! It was encouraging! However, by the time we made it down the second time, it was time for us to go check in with Matt, Jill, and Jill's cousins who came up for the day to partake in the activities. Of course, both of her cousins were on the Michigan State Ski team, so I felt like a bit of an idiot. Oh well. Chad decided he wanted more of a challenge, so he went to do some normal hill runs with them while Kerry graciously said she'd stay with me on the bunny hill. Let me just add here that this bunny hill was probably 3/4 of the size of the normal sized ski hills at home in Michigan. This looked like a mountain compared to the bunny hill at Bittersweet. I digress. So, I'm about a third of the way down the hill. I took a spill and it knocked the wind out of me. I got up and made it a few more feet and I decided to try and slow down/stop using the toe technique [or facing up the hill]. Well, I was going a bit fast and as I slowed down I lost my balance and fell &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/Scbb-V04FLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/4VlU7-B1KPo/s1600-h/DSC05604.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316178274214745266" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/Scbb-V04FLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/4VlU7-B1KPo/s200/DSC05604.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;forward [but facing up the hill]. I caught myself and then my eyes tightened as the pain in my elbow became more than evident. I quickly rolled over and laid on my back. I laid there for quite a while. Kerry was long gone at this point as she had already gotten the hang of her ski's and was pretty damn good at cutting the slope. I finally decided to get up and just try to get down the hill. I was crying a bit at this point. I was so ridiculously nervous about falling again. I made it a little bit and then decided to fall again, just so that I would slow down. I was hurting too bad to try and concentrate on trying to slow down properly. I sat there for a minute trying to muster up the courage to get up and go again. It probably took me about 20 minutes to get the rest of the way down the hill. I finally made it and told Kerry that I was done for the day. She was a good big sister and said we should go hang out in the lodge then, but I told her to get back up there and go &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/ScbcUT0YVTI/AAAAAAAAAEo/3pb9vZsyPWs/s1600-h/DSC05628.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316178651632915762" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/ScbcUT0YVTI/AAAAAAAAAEo/3pb9vZsyPWs/s200/DSC05628.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;down some more, that I was just going to chill while she skiied some more. We didn't spend all of this money to get three runs out of it [well, at least she didn't]. Anyway, we met back up with Chad, Matt and Jill and Kerry went with them down one of the easier "real" runs on the mountain. I turned in my gear and went and sat in the lodge with a hot chocolate. We headed back to the cars, shared a beer, then headed home. I took a shower since I felt pretty disgusting. Jill, Kerry and I worked on a puzzle that they had out on a table for a while. I've never been into puzzles, but this one was pretty damn addicting. I think puzzles might be addicting for me. Getting a piece to fit is way to exciting. Anyway, we had a nice dinner, and then I decided to turn in for the night. Jill's cousins, even though they were the same age as me, were a bit annoying and I was tired. I figured out quickly that it hurt most when I tried to open a door, or rotate it from side to side. My arm was hurting, and I just decided to be lame and turn in early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sunday 3/8&lt;/strong&gt;: Kerry, Chad and I got up early and headed to &lt;a href="http://www.coeurdalene.org/"&gt;Couer d'Alene&lt;/a&gt;, Idaho. From a few people's explanations, its like Traverse City with mountains. Anyway, since it was supposed to be such a c&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/Scbd_qR7VzI/AAAAAAAAAEw/aZNkznwdv1Q/s1600-h/Picture+075.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316180495908427570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/Scbd_qR7VzI/AAAAAAAAAEw/aZNkznwdv1Q/s200/Picture+075.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ute little town, we were expecting there to be mom and pop greasy spoons to grab a good breakfast. Well, apparently they don't have those in downtown Couer d'Alene. It was pretty disappointing! We drove out of town and found a decent little place and had a nice breakfast. After that we went back downtown and did a little antiqueing. There were some cute little gems, but no one really found anything that we thought we couldn't live without. The last place we went in was a "fine art and antiques" place, so we knew that we weren't the right demographic this place was trying to attract. We went in anyway, and its a good thing we did. The lady that owned it was super nice and told us about a few places where there were some biking and hiking trails. We headed to one of them called Tubbs Hill and went to the top. It was really nice. Absolutely gorgeous scenery. I was wearing my new hiking boots and being new &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/Scbm5CiLJMI/AAAAAAAAAFo/ryW1ZIJNcP8/s1600-h/Picture+109.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316190277764588738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 305px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 204px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/Scbm5CiLJMI/AAAAAAAAAFo/ryW1ZIJNcP8/s200/Picture+109.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;shoes, I wasn't very steady in thin snow with them. I was pretty convinced I was going to fall. Coming down was even worse. But I made it down successfully without biting the dust! Then we hopped in the car and headed for Wallace, Idaho! We found this place in one of the brochures that I grabbed at the art fair. The draws were that it was an old mining town, "The Center of the Universe", a bordello museum, and they refused to divide the town by running the expressway through it, so they built the expressway up and over it. Well, we figured we'd mozey on over in that direction since it was only about 25 minutes from Couer d'Alene. We got there, drove around the three blocks it entailed, and realized that absolutely NOTHING in "The Center of the Universe" was open on Sunday! It was pretty crazy. The small mining museum which also fronted as a tourist info center was closing at 3:00, which was 2 minutes after our arrival. We talked to this old guy who was in there for a while. He used to be a scientist and then one day decided that he didn't want to do that anymore. So he moved to Wallace and spends most of his time skiing. Then, as we were leaving and driving through town again, I noticed these signs on every corner of this one intersection. So we got out and took our photo opportunity! Here is my documentation that I have been, indeed, to "The Center of the Universe"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/ScbiljxCvrI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/0a7E3_W4KaU/s1600-h/Picture+117.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316185545041428146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 157px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 195px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/ScbiljxCvrI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/0a7E3_W4KaU/s200/Picture+117.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/ScbjqWSovzI/AAAAAAAAAFg/3i0bKzGB02c/s1600-h/Picture+120.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316186726835207986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 225px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 173px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/ScbjqWSovzI/AAAAAAAAAFg/3i0bKzGB02c/s200/Picture+120.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316186312151627938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 164px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 199px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/ScbjSNeXeKI/AAAAAAAAAFY/OfBpMofhVcE/s200/Picture+118.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drove back to Washington, made one final dinner, and spent the evening playing Fill or Bust and putting that damn puzzle together. Kerry and I packed our stuff up and hit the hay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Monday 3/9&lt;/strong&gt;: We got up in the morning, Chad took us over to have breakfast with Marianne again and he headed to work. We had a very pleasant morning chatting with Marianne and she told us about this trip she's taking to go &lt;a href="http://www.joanocean.com/whales.html"&gt;swim with whales &lt;/a&gt;off of some tiny little island by Tahiti. After we were there for a while, she took us to the airport to catch our flights. Kerry headed back to GR and I was on my way to Salt Lake City, Utah where I would then hop a shuttle bus and head up to Pocatello, Idaho for the next adventure of my trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;... "I'm Just Saying".&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/Scbht4ES3ZI/AAAAAAAAAFI/EbWY10_na-I/s1600-h/Picture+120.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-7109680963926163252?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/7109680963926163252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=7109680963926163252' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/7109680963926163252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/7109680963926163252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2009/03/spokane-has-nicknames-like-spokompton.html' title='Spokane Has Nicknames Like Spokompton...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/ScbUlHHI0aI/AAAAAAAAAEI/V_JdJPzJR4Y/s72-c/DSC05586.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-7382427739721293103</id><published>2009-02-01T10:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T11:09:56.764-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sheer joy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Phonecalls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amazement'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Acceptance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ohio State'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Awe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PhD'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='E-mail'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Buckeye'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Disbelief'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dr. KP'/><title type='text'>With Some Good Red Wine and My Brand New Shoes...</title><content type='html'>Hardcore came and visited me on Thursday evening and we spent the night at the Cabin drinking and singing karaoke with a handful of my fellow GTA's. We had lunch on Friday at the Pixie (cause you can't come to Mt. Pleasant and not have the Pixie) and then he left to go up to the Sault. Chelsea, Katie and I headed to Midland after he left to go shopping at the mall (I was in need of a purple bra for the monologues, a short sleeved white turtleneck for myself, and anything else that might happen to catch my eye...). We had a lovely afternoon and I was very excited at the prospects of a nap as we were driving back to Mt. Pleasant. We got home and, of course, I checked my facebook, e-mail, etc., all of the important stuff. ha. As I was perusing my cmich e-mail account I saw one that had "OSU School of Communication" in the subect title. The first thing that came to mind was that it was a confirmation e-mail that they had received (or had not received) all of my materials for application. I opened it and began reading:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Hi Katie,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I'm Chip Eveland, the Director of Graduate Studies for the School of Communication at OSU. That means that I chair the graduate admissions committee for the School. I'm writing to let you know that we've had the opportunity to review your file, and we are excited about the prospects of you joining our PhD program come the fall. You will receive a formal (and form) letter from us early next week informing you not only of your admission, but also of the graduate assistantship funding package that we will be offering you. You'll also be hearing from me again soon to see if you will be able to join us on April 2nd and 3rd for our Visitation Day, in which we will have an opportunity for you to meet our faculty and graduate students, as well as tour our campus and research facilities. This is an important opportunity for you to come and discuss your interests with our faculty and make sure that your interests and goals fit well with the nature of our program and our faculty. We can put you up in a hotel the evening of April 2, and will cover dinner that night plus breakfast and lunch on Friday. We can also help support your travel here through reimbursement.Anyhow, I wanted to write specifically to answer any initial questions you may have about our program, the funding offer, or the Visitation Day. I look forward to talking with you soon...chip-- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Dr. William "Chip" Eveland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Professor of Communication and Political Science&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Director of Graduate Studies, School of Communication&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;3139 Derby Hall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Columbus, OH &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I had to re-read the 3rd through 6th line a few times before I comprehended (and I'm still not sure that I do) what it said. I ran out into the living room where Chelsea sat on the couch and showed it to her. I was speechless, she didn't say much either, but I think that was just a lack of caring. She told me congrats and I ran back to my room with my laptop. I called my parents. My dad answered, I told him that he needed to go find mom and put it on speaker phone. He said she was asleep and I told him that he needed to wake her up, that she'd want to be woken up for this. I told them then. My mom hadn't heard it all completely, so I had only told my Dad, he said way to go, or something like that, but with less enthusiasm than I was expecting. Such is my father. He handed the phone to my mom and I told her the same news, reading her the first portion of the e-mail. Hers was the response I was waiting for. She was very excited for me and so proud. I could hear it in her voice. I spoke with her for a few minutes and then told her that I wanted to call Kerry. I hung up and pressed "3" and then send. It rang and rang and went to voicemail! How could she not answer!!! I left her an urgent voicemail telling her to call me back immediately! I waited 3 minutes and tried again. It seemed like an eternity having to wait a few minutes to call her back. Again, the phone rang and went to voicemail. I left her another message, more impatient than the first. She finally called me back and I about exploded. My sister finally got the entire response I was looking for. She mimicked my intensity and excitement, just like I knew she would! We talked for a while and then I finally got off the phone with her. I then started calling other family and friends. I mostly left voicemails for people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still can't believe it. Ohio State University. The one school that posted an actual GRE score expectation (that I was under by 70 points) and they're the school to accept me in 2 weeks. The application that wasn't due until Jan. 15th, and here they are, sending me an e-mail accepting me into their program on the 30th. Ohio State, the one program that I was applying to just for shits and giggles, that I never in a million years dreamed would even look at my application after they saw my GRE score. Crazy how life works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm shocked. I'm in awe. I'm reeling from the idea that no matter what happens now, even if I get into the other 4 programs, or if I don't, I still can get my PhD, and at one of the more prestigious schools I applied to. I still don't feel like this is real. I feel like this is all just a dream. I know that I've put in the time and the effort to get to this point, but I never actually thought this would happen. Even Friday, right before I got the e-mail, I still would have told you it would be a miracle to be accepted by just one of the programs. I honestly wasn't expecting to get in anywhere. I don't know why, but after what happened with Pete last year, I thought that it was a long shot in hell for me to get into a PhD program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here I am, a prospective Buckeye. I'm still in disbelief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;... Gonna Dance A Blue Streak Around The Living Room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-7382427739721293103?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/7382427739721293103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=7382427739721293103' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/7382427739721293103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/7382427739721293103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2009/02/with-some-good-red-wine-and-my-brand.html' title='With Some Good Red Wine and My Brand New Shoes...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-8359179450379648968</id><published>2009-01-19T16:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T16:40:35.235-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, You Can't Get To Heaven On Rollerskates...</title><content type='html'>Okay, so lets start over again. I'm going to try to keep the pity party to a minimum, since I'm trying to keep the pity party in my life to a minimum. Frankly, I've got a lot of great things going for me, and I'm not sure why I'm so low in self confidence. But, I'm trying to change this. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, almost two months ago I found a lump in my breast while I was working out. Finally went and had it looked at last week. It's always a joy when you have 3 complete strangers feeling your boob in the course of 30 minutes. But, as of right now, they don't seem to think that there is anything out of the ordinary. But, they still have to review my films and make sure. It's a big weight off my shoulders to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've applied to 3 out of 5 PhD programs so far at this point. My last two should be going out either tomorrow or Wednesday. I've spent an arm and a leg on applications. I think I'm pushing $400 now with all of the fees and mailing costs. You're killing me smalls, you're killing me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I gave the first draft of my thesis to Wendy two weeks before the semester ended. I still haven't gotten anything back from her, and I'm about to scream. 2 months is a little ridiculous. The thing is only 24 pages long, I mean honestly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We just had our first practice in a month for the monologues yesterday. I think its going to be pretty good. I'm excited about my part. I like it. Because my vagina, well, it wants everything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Still haven't heard back yet about the job at Northern. I'm not sure if I even stand a chance... and this waiting has made my hopes diminish. Oh well. We'll just wait and see. The next month or two could be quite interesting in determining what my future holds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My parent's 35th Anniversary is coming up in May, and my sister wants to put a memory book together for them. So I found a few old pictures down in the basement and brought them up here with me. I scanned them in and used my cool new photo editing software I got for Christmas to try and touch them up a bit since they're all yellowed and aged. Cause, well, the 70's was a really long time ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293168787818210802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 251px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SXUc99YW5fI/AAAAAAAAADg/Y-NttP4fHYM/s320/01-17-2009-18-36-23-812.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;After&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293167805418135458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 254px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SXUcExp7X6I/AAAAAAAAADQ/QDCLCwESXZM/s320/01-17-2009-18-36-23-812_edited-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one of me as a wee tike [even though I was never very wee] for your enjoyment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293168402511269474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 227px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SXUcniABjmI/AAAAAAAAADY/Av-iDpIDWkQ/s320/01-17-2009-20-31-21-750.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Cause You'll Roll Right Past.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-8359179450379648968?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/8359179450379648968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=8359179450379648968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/8359179450379648968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/8359179450379648968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2009/01/oh-you-cant-get-to-heaven-on.html' title='Oh, You Can&apos;t Get To Heaven On Rollerskates...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SXUc99YW5fI/AAAAAAAAADg/Y-NttP4fHYM/s72-c/01-17-2009-18-36-23-812.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-5294492467500755419</id><published>2008-12-23T18:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T18:44:30.210-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dissatisfied'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Locus of Control'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cynicism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Happiness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New'/><title type='text'>I've Got The Same Old Heart...</title><content type='html'>Things have to change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of people constantly calling me a bitch.  Especially when I don't feel like I was a bitch EVER to those people.  If not letting people walk all over me and calling people out when they're screwing me over means I'm a bitch, then so be it.  However, I know that I'm mean, and cynical, and sarcastic quite a bit too.  I hit people a lot, and I've finally noticed how violent I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had dinner with a long lost friend last night and when she asked me how I was, I surprised myself with my answer.  I'm okay.  I'm unhappy and unsatisfied, but I'm alright.  And there it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm alive.  I'm healthy.  I'm doing extravagantly in school.  But I'm extremely unsatisfied with my life.  And the sad part is, I don't know what would make me happy.  For instance, I was extremely upset that I got an A- this semester.  And in the one class I thought I for sure would have an A in.  I got 3 A's and an A-.  I got a 3.92 for the semester and an overall grad school GPA of a 3.75 and I'm upset about it.  I'm not satisfied with that GPA, because it isn't a 4.0.  I worked my ass off this semester, and I really thought that I had a shot at a 4.0 for the first time since I think middle school.  And I was so close, but I didn't get it.  And instead of being happy that I still did awesome anyway, I'm pissed because it wasn't perfect.  I have issues apparently.&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to think that having someone in my life might make me happy, but I really don't want to have to rely on someone else to fulfill that for me.  I think I'm jaded.  I think I've been surrounded by so many negative people for so long that I don't know anything different.  But then there is the argument of Locus of control, so who knows what the truth is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I know is that I need an overhaul.  I need something different.  I need a new perspective.  I have no idea how I'm going to get there, but something has to change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;With A Brand New Beat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-5294492467500755419?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/5294492467500755419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=5294492467500755419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/5294492467500755419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/5294492467500755419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/12/ive-got-same-old-heart.html' title='I&apos;ve Got The Same Old Heart...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-5605242679659968372</id><published>2008-12-16T18:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T18:27:14.409-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bored'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grades'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I hate people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home'/><title type='text'>I Believe I Can See The Future...</title><content type='html'>I remember now why I do not enjoy being home.  I AM BORED OFF MY  ASS!!!!  It is so ridiculously hard for me to go from not having time to sleep to having nothing to do but watch tv and sleep.  I hate this crap. I have some books to read, and I have applications to fill out for PhD programs, and I have Christmas shopping to do... but its like as soon as I get to my parents house, the lazy button is switched to high. I actually cooked chili and baked beer bread tonight... me and the kitchen are not friends, but there I was, all domesticated and what not.  Rar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A student e-mailed me and said it was my fault that he didn't drop my class because I said he had a chance of passing if he started showing up and did really well on the rest of the things in class.  Well, he did start showing up, but he did alright on the rest of the assignments, and low and behold, he earned an F for the class, and now he might get kicked out of University.  And I almost replied, well, you should have shown up for class and given your speech when you were supposed to and you wouldn't be in this predicament.  But I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, dumbass Eric decided that I am a bitch for not magically knowing that his great gramma died a few days ago.  Apparently I have to check his facebook profile to know whats going on in his life, and if I don't... well then I'm the bad guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fucking hate people. And apparently they all hate me too. FUCK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;...Cause I Repeat The Same Routine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-5605242679659968372?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/5605242679659968372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=5605242679659968372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/5605242679659968372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/5605242679659968372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-believe-i-can-see-future.html' title='I Believe I Can See The Future...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-7718405200880289261</id><published>2008-12-14T20:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T20:57:39.324-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Magic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Twilight'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>The Greatest Thing That You Can Ever Learn...</title><content type='html'>I had a great morning for some reason. I couldn't tell you why I was in such a good mood, I just was. No one at church recognized who I was. They told me they were asking each other during the service who the "Cute new girl was". So I got a lot of compliments on my hair, and a lot of people talked to me. But I was in a decently good mood long before then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just went and saw Twilight because it was the $3 movie here in MP. I would have never EVER gone to see it otherwise. But it evoked some feelings in me that I've kept hidden for quite a while. I've come to accept over the past few years that love is all about being real. There is no magic, there is work. A lot of work, and its not going to be as fantastic as we are taught to believe as children. It's painful and its tough. And I buried all of those hopes and dreams of "The One" and I thought they were gone. I was a realist. I was rational. And then Twilight happened to me. I know that the movie is just another great love story... but it seemed different for some reason. All of the hokey romantic comedies make me want to barf. They are a dime a dozen and they're all the same... totally unbelievable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha. Unbelievable. I talk about people who could be real characters as unbelievable and then I watch a movie about a vampire and say its more believable...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it melted me. All of those years of hardening... gone. I want the magic. I want the One. And I think I have to believe he's out there. I've told myself for quite a while now that I'm okay with being alone... more time to work and study and write. But I want more than that. I want to love someone and be loved so deeply that it hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the clincher... boy-o called me as soon as the movie was finished. Like literally stood up from my seat in the theater and saw that I had a missed call... he had called within the past 30 seconds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... then there's the permagrin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;... Is Just To Love, And Be Loved In Return.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-7718405200880289261?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/7718405200880289261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=7718405200880289261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/7718405200880289261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/7718405200880289261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/12/greatest-thing-that-you-can-ever-learn.html' title='The Greatest Thing That You Can Ever Learn...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-6108669747801511744</id><published>2008-12-13T17:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T17:32:57.348-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Calls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fall Semester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rate My Professor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drunkness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>Survived The Plague, Floated The Flood, Just Peaked our Heads Above The Mud...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Hell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This semester was hell. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm honestly not sure how I made it through. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But it is over. And the weight I thought I would feel be lifted off my shoulders never happened. I never felt that sigh of relief once everything was done. And that made me very sad. I was expecting some grand feeling, and it was extremely anti-climactic. Since Thanksgiving I wrote 5 papers (a total of about 70 pages) took 3 finals, and graded about 30 outlines. Two weeks for all of that. And in 48 hours time (From Monday at about 10PM until Wednesday at around 5PM I wrote 28 of those pages and took 2 of those exams). And it definately wasn't because I waited and procrastinated and screwed around until the very last minute. Nope, just had to do the projects in order of due date, and it left me writing papers the day they were due. I do not suggest EVER taking 4 grad classes and teaching two classes simultaneously. It will drive you into the ground and cut you off from the rest of humanity. However... I get to coast (at least in comparison) this last semester. So yay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, this boy, we'll call him Bo, who showed interest in me before my birthday, and then as soon as my birthday came around went into social hiding, well he came out of his shell this past week. And was flirting with me hardcore right before our final on Tuesday and then again at the bar afterwards. And when he was supposed to come out Thursday (and didn't show up, Thank God! cause I was obliterated and acting like a damned fool) I decided that it was my duty as a dumb drunkard to call him as many times as possible to see where the hell he was. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279451932596991986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SURhj5sxd_I/AAAAAAAAACg/M0LSGeNcurw/s320/Mr.+Grinch.jpg" border="0" /&gt;[the great thing about this photo is that A) we're singing "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch" and B) I didn't remember even doing this until the photo was tagged on Facebook... a full bottle of Riesling and 2 concoctions of whatever Darrel was making.  Notice nice $140 BCBG lowcut blouse with back zipper access]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, skipping all of the embarassing details of the night that I don't really remember, he never showed. And being a bit upset at this (since I had worn a lowcut shirt and done my hair and makeup all special (like a stupid girl)) I proceeded to put an away message up on AIM saying how stupid I felt and how I had gone to such lengths to impress a boy that never even showed up...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;yeah, I'm an idiot, I know this. Well, of course I did that so he would see it, and of course, he did! And promptly left me a message asking if the message was in reference to him and if so he was extremely sorry...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, of course, I was mortified when he called me the next day and I tried to apologize. So yeah, I'm a bit nervous about said boy-o... I think he likes me, but I'm afraid he's bi-polar with the way he acted for about a month (okay, not literally bipolar... but honestly, who wants a guy who plays the hokey pokey?!).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So anyway, stupid boys aside... the semester was alright, it was a shit load of work, but I think its going to end up alright. I should be in the running for a 4.0. We'll see if I did as shitty on my finals as me thinks I possibly could have. Oh... and yes, I am on ratemyprofessor.com... have a look see!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ratemyprofessors.com/SelectTeacher.jsp?the_dept=Communication&amp;amp;sid=200&amp;amp;orderby=TLName&amp;amp;letter=P"&gt;http://www.ratemyprofessors.com/SelectTeacher.jsp?the_dept=Communication&amp;amp;sid=200&amp;amp;orderby=TLName&amp;amp;letter=P&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;... It's Not The End There Is More Show, We've Got About Fifteen Minutes To Go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-6108669747801511744?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/6108669747801511744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=6108669747801511744' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/6108669747801511744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/6108669747801511744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/12/survived-plague-floated-flood-just.html' title='Survived The Plague, Floated The Flood, Just Peaked our Heads Above The Mud...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SURhj5sxd_I/AAAAAAAAACg/M0LSGeNcurw/s72-c/Mr.+Grinch.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-8122274946497956011</id><published>2008-11-14T10:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T10:57:39.067-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Northern Michigan University'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='3 Year Appointment'/><title type='text'>Anywhere I'm Gonna Lay My Head...</title><content type='html'>I am sending my resume out on Monday for a 3 year teaching appointment at Northern Michigan University.  I want this job so badly.  I don't think I'll get it, but I'm going to do my damnedest.  Those 3 years would give me time to do some more research, get published, and look damn good on my resume for any other teaching job.  I want it so badly.  Keep your fingers crossed for me and send a prayer out to whatever God you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm Gonna Call My Home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-8122274946497956011?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/8122274946497956011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=8122274946497956011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/8122274946497956011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/8122274946497956011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/11/anywhere-im-gonna-lay-my-head.html' title='Anywhere I&apos;m Gonna Lay My Head...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-1997172996307647488</id><published>2008-11-14T10:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T10:46:28.665-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Prospectus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Date'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vaggie Tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shit'/><title type='text'>Life Can Be A Little Sweet...</title><content type='html'>So, since I last wrote, the proverbial shit has hit the fan.  Or maybe shit really did hit the fan... either way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat in the Bullpen and listened to Todd talk shit about me to Erin Jo who is our boss.  I lost it.  I e-mailed Wendy immediately after it happened, while I sat in the same room with the two of them and told her what was happening.  I will be moving upstairs to the second year office (the office I was in last spring) by myself.  It's one thing when people stop inviting you out for social events, but when you're sitting in your office trying to work and someone starts verbally attacking you to your boss, and then she doesn't say shit to him, well, frankly, thats bullshit.  So I'm removing myself from the situation and going to isolate myself more than I already am.  I'm okay with that for some reason.  If you're going to be alone, you might as well not pretend like you're not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also went on a date with Sid.  Sid is a regular at the Cabin on Thursday nights [we go karaoke every thursday night] and he asked me out a few weeks ago, so I figured why the hell not.  I am in no remote sense physically attracted to Sid.  He's a fun kid though.  We had a good time.  He took me to Red Lobster for dinner [I ended up with a chicken dish since I can't stomach seafood] and then we went and saw Role Models.  Definately one of the funniest movies I've seen in a while.  I suggest a viewing if you need a good laugh.  I probably laughed for a good 20 minutes after we left the theater.  It's pretty awesome.  Oh, and get this... HE PAID FOR EVERYTHING!  I don't think I've ever been on a date where the guy has paid for everything.  I've been on a few dates where I'VE paid for everything, but never the guy.  So kudos to him for that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit hit the fan in my mind when I realized on Monday that I only had 3 weeks to finish  my prospectus, not 4 like I thought.  Well, fuck me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have about 60 pages of paper to write in 3-4 weeks time.  [to break it up into units - I have one 25-30 page paper, one 8-10 page paper, one 10-12 page paper, and two 5-7 page papers.]  Not to mention I have 3 exams to take in this time and 70 outlines to grade.&lt;br /&gt;Life kinda hates me at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except, I think I have a date tonight.  Erin Bolen's UTA was at the Cabin last night and asked me if I was planning on seeing the new Bond movie Quantum of Solace.  I replied that I didn't know.  And he retorted that it was a yes or no question.  He then told me to get ahold of him if I was interested in seeing it.  So, since I am going to Birch Run tomorrow and then heading to GR for my father's birthday on Sunday, I told him I was available tonight.  The kid is really cute... but he has a tendency to say really stupid shit.  Apparently he is really smart, but he gets bored and does stupid things... I don't know how I feel about this.  I have a tendency to get impatient with immaturity.  I guess we'll just see how it plays out.  Worse comes to worse, he starts getting verbal diarrhea, I'll just kiss him so he shuts up.  I think thats an ongoing theme for me, can't understand you or you are socially awkward, I'll shut you up and then there won't be any talking.  I think its a pretty good plan...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I am also an "Angry Vagina" in CMU's 2009 production of the Vagina Monologues, aka the Vaggie Tales.  I have my first rehearsal tonight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, for now, back to reviewing the literature to write my prospectus.  Nothing to bring a girls mood up like reading about death, grieving, and bereavement.  SUPER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;...But Life Can Be A Little Shitty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-1997172996307647488?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/1997172996307647488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=1997172996307647488' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/1997172996307647488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/1997172996307647488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/11/life-can-be-little-sweet.html' title='Life Can Be A Little Sweet...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-7065824441007792751</id><published>2008-11-04T20:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T21:14:41.427-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='President'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Election'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yes We Can'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='America'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='History'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2008'/><title type='text'>Witnessing and Being A Part of American History...</title><content type='html'>To preface this entry, I did not vote for Obama.  I don't agree with his issues and I don't think he has enough experience to be our next president.  However...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was apathetic about this election as it came down to the last minute.  I firmly and truly believe that whoever was named president was going to fuck something up.  It just depended on which part of government or the well being of our country that was going to be screwed.  And I still believe that.  Neither candidate was well rounded or had enough requisite variety to govern completely, therefore, neither candidate was going to address all of the many major issues and illnesses that plague our country.  And therefore, I see both candidates as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wonting&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am extremely concerned that the democratic party has taken both house and senate.  That scares the shit out of me, honestly.  I believe in a balance... and there is NO balance now.  Honestly, I'm afraid of the implications of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I would like to also say that I am very interested in seeing what happens over the next four years.  I am interested in seeing if all of the change actually takes place that has been promised...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...interlude...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barack Obama is giving his speech right now... in Chicago... 100 miles away.  History in the making... chills.  My emotions are running... both at the gracious concession speech by McCain and the acceptance speech by Obama.  Chills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... okay, back to where I left off.  We'll see what happens with national security and international relations under &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Obama's&lt;/span&gt; rule.  I guess we'll just have to wait and see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But thank God we finally have someone in the presidency that is not a rich, white, male of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;privilege&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;... Well, Here We Go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-7065824441007792751?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/7065824441007792751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=7065824441007792751' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/7065824441007792751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/7065824441007792751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/11/witnessing-and-being-part-of-american.html' title='Witnessing and Being A Part of American History...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-1723832090693786487</id><published>2008-10-31T10:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T13:03:12.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>They Say It's Your Birthday...</title><content type='html'>Oh the cluster fuck that was my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had been wanting to head to Tahquamenon Falls for a few weeks, and decided that I would head up North for a day trip and invite friends to go along to experience one of my favorite things with me. I had about 8 people who had commited to going with me from Central on Thursday, the 9th of October. On Wednesday, during the 10 minute break I had between my 3 hours of teaching and 3 hours of class, two of my co-workers decided to tag team me and tell me that no one would be going to Tahquamenon with me the following morning. Twelve hours before we were to be leaving. Of course I was disappointed. I had been so geeked to go up there and then everyone bailed on me at the complete last minute. Then, I had to sit with this disappointment and hurt bottled inside of me for 3 hours. During our break from class, I went back in to the Bullpen and one of the people who had told me that they had backed out was still in there. I kept my mouth shut for a while and then I couldn't take it anymore. I said "Todd, I'm really pissed!" He replied with "No, you're not going to make me feel bad about this." And I said, "I'm not trying to make you feel bad!" And that was the extent of the conversation. And that is also the last time Todd talked to me. It should also be noted that Todd is a drama queen, he says he's not gay, but no one is convinced of this, and the kid never shuts up. He is constantly chirping about something, so the drama and the gossip never stops flowing from his lips. Hence, I have been treated extremely differently by everyone in our office since this incident, not to mention I have been ostricized from the group. People do things in groups and I am never invited to anything anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back to the birthday celebration...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday I had a rollerskating party.  That is right my friends, an old school rollerskating party with quite a few people. My sister even came up to celebrate. Saturday, I got to drive a car in the Homecoming parade and then I drove home after tailgating to celebrate with my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263371732808806146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SQtAtFbmrwI/AAAAAAAAACY/20fr7R8Nq8g/s320/Picture+023.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall I had a pretty decent birthday. Definately had its ups and downs, but such is life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;... It's My Birthday Too, Yeah!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-1723832090693786487?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/1723832090693786487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=1723832090693786487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/1723832090693786487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/1723832090693786487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/10/they-say-its-your-birthday.html' title='They Say It&apos;s Your Birthday...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SQtAtFbmrwI/AAAAAAAAACY/20fr7R8Nq8g/s72-c/Picture+023.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-3615457201087957077</id><published>2008-10-19T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T20:51:20.147-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='innocent'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lost'/><title type='text'>Didn't Think This Day Would Ever Come...</title><content type='html'>I was looking at some pictures on facebook and procrastinating on beginning my work for the week, when I came across a picture from sept. 21, 2005. I recently visited the place where this pic was shot 3 years previously, and I almost started crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I grieve for the person I was in that picture. The life I knew at that point in time, that only a month and a half later would be shattered. I grieve for my innocence and I grieve for what I lost, both family and personally. I would give anything to go back before November of 2005. Life was never easy growing up, but I had no idea what difficulties lay ahead of me. I had no idea what darkness, despair, anguish, pain and struggle lay ahead of me. I was so unaware on sept. 21, 2005. I was so innocent. I don't think I'll ever know as much happiness again. You can't ever go back to not knowing. And knowing is the worst.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259076707605157522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SPv-ZttWFpI/AAAAAAAAACQ/RyK1Sl49bV4/s320/tahq.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;...Now All I'm Feeling Is Lost And Numb.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-3615457201087957077?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/3615457201087957077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=3615457201087957077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/3615457201087957077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/3615457201087957077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/10/didnt-think-this-day-would-ever-come.html' title='Didn&apos;t Think This Day Would Ever Come...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SPv-ZttWFpI/AAAAAAAAACQ/RyK1Sl49bV4/s72-c/tahq.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-8558089094450331826</id><published>2008-10-14T21:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T21:16:08.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"I've got no one Meredith.  I don't know how I got here, but I've got no one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Izzie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-8558089094450331826?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/8558089094450331826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=8558089094450331826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/8558089094450331826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/8558089094450331826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/10/ive-got-no-one-meredith.html' title=''/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-8021583967065070720</id><published>2008-10-05T06:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T06:36:01.711-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trips'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='September'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GRE'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Conference'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birthdays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>Let Your Eyes Girl, Be Other Worldly...</title><content type='html'>Let us recap September:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I went to the most BORING wedding ever... nothing says "I Do" like a dry wedding reception where everyone leaves by 8:00 pm.&lt;br /&gt;-Hung out with Bryan while he was home for this wedding.&lt;br /&gt;-Went and saw grams a few times and fed her at lunch.&lt;br /&gt;-I took the GRE on September 11th.&lt;br /&gt;-I got an unsolicited apology from the boy-o.&lt;br /&gt;-I sang my heart out every Thursday night at the Cabin.  Apparently singing mostly Fiona Apple means I'm an angry panda... its not my fault all of the sad/angry songs are the only ones in my range.&lt;br /&gt;-September was uncommonly hot. (thank God it immediately got cold on Oct. 1st... no kidding)&lt;br /&gt;-I spent an amazingly horrible weekend at Purdue.  Indiana could quite possibly be the most dull state ever.  West Lafayette wasn't too bad.  Cute little place situated around an enormous campus.  I was late for my 3 meetings about the PhD program because the secretary there told me they were an hour behind us (not the truth).  Then I spent an hour trying to find the building because apparently no one that works there knows where the liberal arts building is.  So, I walked around with two married professor's while they ran errands around campus and chatted about the program.  Then, my group decided that they didn't want to attend much of the Org. Comm conference, so I sat in a hotel room and watched CNN for the majority of the weekend.  That weekend was about as useful as a poopy flavored lollipop.&lt;br /&gt;-Got my GRE scores back.  Lets just say the only part I should have done well on was the worst part.  I apparently am incompetant at writing.  I did famously on the math and verbal.  I still cant believe I did so poorly on the writing.  It almost boggles my mind.&lt;br /&gt;-Celebrated my mom's and aunt's birthday at my siblings on the way  home from Purdue.&lt;br /&gt;-Some days I love teaching.  Some days I want to ring my students throats for being so F'ing dumb.&lt;br /&gt;-A lot of people are pushing me in the direction of a cute boy in the program.  What are the chances of dating two guys named "Bo" in one's lifetime?  Honestly, are there really that many guys named Bo?&lt;br /&gt;-Took said cute boy home from the bar the other night (because he rides his bike) and got a handshake.  Thats right ladies and gents.  A handshake.  Nothing like a handshake to kill a girl's self esteem.&lt;br /&gt;-I have a thesis advisor finally!  YAY!  Wendy Papa is going to help me do my quantitative research on the "Effects of the death of a family member on college achievement" with an intervening variable of social support.   So yay for progress on this project.&lt;br /&gt;-Went to Uncle John's Cider Mill on Friday evening with some of the Comm grad students.  Good times in the cider mill, winery (complimentary wine tasting... awesome!), and corn maze. &lt;br /&gt;-Went and saw Clinton Kelly from TLC's "What Not To Wear" yesterday at Macy's in Novi.  He's pretty "Freakin' Fabulous" which is apparently the title of his unreleased book.  Might have to check that out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned for an update after this week...  It's going to be a crazy one with the Birthday on Saturday.  And yes, of course I've got three days of celebration already planned out.  Come on now, its me.  Would you expect anything less?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;... Count Your Blessings, Seduce A Stranger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-8021583967065070720?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/8021583967065070720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=8021583967065070720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/8021583967065070720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/8021583967065070720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/10/let-your-eyes-girl-be-other-worldly.html' title='Let Your Eyes Girl, Be Other Worldly...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-7296275140307844362</id><published>2008-09-02T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T14:09:19.237-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Absent'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Over'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Done'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Happy'/><title type='text'>Took Your Car, Drove To Texas...</title><content type='html'>So, this boy likes to come and go in my life, and being a stupid girl sometimes, I keep letting him come back.  But now, I'm done.  I said that I was done as soon as I got back from Scotland, but after the past week, its done for good.  I never wanted to use this blog to talk about my love life, because I feel its trite and shallow.  There is so much more to life than boys.  It reminds me of an episode of Sex and the City where Miranda yells at the other 3 about how they should have more to talk about than boys, and I feel that I do.  However, I'm making a permanant declaration and it will be here to remind me if I ever feel like I could be slipping into old habits again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after a confession last Saturday to me through Facebook [because this boy is a coward] of how much he misses me and how much he doesn't miss me and how much he loves me, I got soft.  I didn't let him back in, but I let him tell me these things, and thats weak.  I should have just told him right then and there too late bud.  But I didn't, I was empathetic.  Anyway, after some interaction over the past week, I sent him an article I found interesting that pertained to his life this past Saturday, and apparently by doing that I inadvertantly called him a "little boy".  And then he told me if my objective in sending him that article was to make him not want to talk to me, then I had succeeded.  I was upset at first.  But this morning, I am thanking the God's. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was misunderstood and there was no reason for him to be mad at me... I'm okay with it.  I'm not going to set the record straight.  I have no obligation to.  And frankly, I hope this 'not talking to me' threat isn't so much a threat as a promise.  I hope its a permanant fixture in my life.  A permanant fixture of his absence.  Cause that would just be SUPER!  He drags me down.  He makes me flustered.  And I have been such a happy person when he hasn't been a part of my life.  So here's to changes.  Here is to growing.  Here is to focusing on myself and doing what is right by me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;...Sorry Honey, But I Suspected That We Were Through, And I Can't Cry Anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-7296275140307844362?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/7296275140307844362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=7296275140307844362' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/7296275140307844362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/7296275140307844362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/09/took-your-car-drove-to-texas.html' title='Took Your Car, Drove To Texas...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-3124991603955886090</id><published>2008-09-01T16:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T13:14:23.092-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Days I Feel Like Crying...</title><content type='html'>I feel that I should clarify the quote from my previous post. Since it obviously leaves some confusion to outsiders. The television drama that I referenced before that parallels a lot with yours truely had that quote in it, and like with most of this particular show, I felt very connected with it. However, it needs to be put in context.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Main character's mother has advanced early onset alzheimer's. She's in the hospital for something and they find a mass on her pancreas. Most likely pancreatic cancer. Said daughter hopes that its cancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex: Pancreatic cancer is quick. Its painful, but its quick. And they give you morphine for the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meredith: What kind of daughter wishes her mother has cancer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex: They don't give you morphine for alzheimer's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that clears things up a bit. And now the explanation for the association to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt that I had come to accept that my own mother would be getting alzheimer's with an onset probably within the next 10 years. Apparently I was a fool for thinking that I knew that. After I finally pulled the veil off of my own eyes and saw where I was at with my mother yesterday... well, lets just say I spent the last 30 minutes in the shower crying. I don't really like that I'm 22 and am having to deal with this. I've already dealt with it 3 times, and frankly, the thought of my mother becoming an empty shell scares the shit out of me. To a debilitating point. To the point where while I was crying in the shower I was scratching my skin off. I have scratch marks all over my body now. Thats how bad this is going to fuck me up... more than I already am. So, on that cheery note.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;...Don't Matter If It's Rain Or Shine, I Feel Like My Heart Was Broken At Least A Million Times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-3124991603955886090?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/3124991603955886090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=3124991603955886090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/3124991603955886090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/3124991603955886090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/09/some-days-i-feel-like-crying.html' title='Some Days I Feel Like Crying...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-5264058377145924786</id><published>2008-08-25T20:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T20:45:36.939-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"They don't give you morphine for alzheimer's."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-5264058377145924786?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/5264058377145924786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=5264058377145924786' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/5264058377145924786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/5264058377145924786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/08/they-dont-give-you-morphine-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-2037535094664292966</id><published>2008-08-24T19:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T19:57:35.877-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wrong'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GTA'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><title type='text'>All Your Diction Dripping With Disdain...</title><content type='html'>I start teaching tomorrow.  I'm teaching a college course.  I'm teaching COM 101.  I'm teaching students that are only 3 to 4 years younger, some not even. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This can't be right.  Someone's made a mistake.  I shouldn't have impressionable minds in my hands.  This is what I've wanted for over a year now, and now its here and I feel so ill prepared.  I don't know enough. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;em&gt;can&lt;/em&gt; do this... right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;... Who Gives A Fuck About An Oxford Comma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-2037535094664292966?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/2037535094664292966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=2037535094664292966' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/2037535094664292966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/2037535094664292966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/08/all-your-diction-dripping-with-disdain.html' title='All Your Diction Dripping With Disdain...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-4399784292760085613</id><published>2008-08-21T16:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T16:41:12.419-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;m going to die'/><title type='text'>Once I Rose Above The Noise And Confusion, Just To Get A Glimpse Beyond The Illusion...</title><content type='html'>I was under no illusion that this semester was going to be a breeze. I knew it was going to be hard. I knew it was going to be a lot of work. And I'm always up for the challenge. I feel that without that challenge and constant push from myself to do more, I would lose everything that I feel defines me at this time in my life. I pride myself on my hard work and my ambition. It's who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this afternoon, reality sucker punched me in the nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Withers handed out a "Thesis Timeline" to the new, incoming graduate students [I was at this meeting because I did not have the opportunity to attend previously, as I began in the middle of last year]. I wish this paper would have been handed to me and the Thesis process would have actually been explained to me when I began. Maybe I would have actually known then that I should have started last spring to make sure I was done by this May. A small digression...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, it all hit me. How my time was going to be divided up this semester. And how non-existant leisure time is going to be. The time to write lesson plans for each class. The time to write up activities for each chapter. The time to grade outlines, speeches, etc. Office hours. Actual teaching time. My four classes. Time to write papers. Time to read for each class. Time to study for the GRE [which is coming up way too ridiculously soon]. Getting my prospectus done for my thesis within the next few months. Applying to PhD programs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So basically what I'm getting at here, is that I won't be sleeping much or eating at all for that matter. So, 10 mental breakdowns, 15 pounds less, and four months later, I hope I'm still alive and able to function as a normal human being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not kidding, this semester might be the end of me. 12 credits + 6 credits of teaching, is a whopping grand total of 18 credits. That's a TON for an undergraduate as is. I'm in f'ing Grad school. I, without a doubt, am going to lose it. And it hasn't even officially started yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;... Though My Eyes Could See I Still Was A Blind Man, Though My Mind Could Think I Still Was A Mad Man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-4399784292760085613?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/4399784292760085613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=4399784292760085613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/4399784292760085613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/4399784292760085613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/08/once-i-rose-above-noise-and-confusion.html' title='Once I Rose Above The Noise And Confusion, Just To Get A Glimpse Beyond The Illusion...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-4635988127894431585</id><published>2008-08-17T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T19:52:49.757-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Flies In The Vasoline We Are...</title><content type='html'>So, I've noticed that in the small time I've been here at school, my skin has cleared up quite dramatically.  And I have come to a really ridiculous conclusion that I can't believe I haven't noticed until now.  Let me lay my evidence on the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got home for the summer, and while over in Scotland, I noticed that my skin was getting more riddled with acne than it had recently been.  At that point in time I blamed it on two factors.  Scotland's water content and the new birth control I was taking.  Horomones and new chemicals on the skin were a one-two punch combination for out of control skin problems.  Okay, fine, whatever, it will go away once I get home.  Not so lucky.  Lasted all summer.  A different kind of acne than I was used to, smaller zits, and more of them, instead of the really huge few I'd normally have on a constant basis.  Wierd. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now I'm not living at my parent's home anymore and guess what my skin has done?  Gotten better.  It's cleared up quite a bit.  Crazy how that works, eh?  Gotta love how horrible my parents lifestyle is for my health.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;...Keep Getting Stuck Here All The Time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-4635988127894431585?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/4635988127894431585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=4635988127894431585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/4635988127894431585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/4635988127894431585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/08/flies-in-vasoline-we-are.html' title='Flies In The Vasoline We Are...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-5347005121517673446</id><published>2008-08-16T19:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T19:35:59.354-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Shot That Arrow In Your Throat, Who Missed the Crimson Apple?...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKeOZ0oajpI/AAAAAAAAACI/wVqBv3s4o3Y/s1600-h/DSCF3890.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235309666117521042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="203" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKeOZ0oajpI/AAAAAAAAACI/wVqBv3s4o3Y/s320/DSCF3890.JPG" width="291" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After I got out of my fifth day of GTA training yesterday, I had hit the end of my rope and fallen off with my tolerance of the 15 other people I'd spent about 40 hours with nonstop. So, I did what any normal girl would do. I hopped in my car and I went and got myself lost on country roads. No, really, I went and got lost. And it was everthing I thought it could be and more. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKeJPuweiLI/AAAAAAAAAB4/HTt_mMqYZKY/s1600-h/DSCF3881.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Apparently, nothing soothes the soul like fresh air, blue skies, mile after mile of grass, fields, trees, and farms, dirt roads, and the power of a car. Freedom. That inner "cowboy" so to speak. Leaving it all behind and just going. So, I put 70-80 miles on my car. And I felt amazing afterwards. My frustrations got left in the dust that trailed my car. One of the more expensive ways to deal with issues now, but well worth it. However, this 'driving therapy' can only be done so often, because of said expensiveness. So, today, after my sixth day of GTA training, and the final student activity was done, it left me with a general uneasiness and a sickness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235305171071133090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 385px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 255px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="240" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKeKULR15aI/AAAAAAAAACA/p2vsskKwabo/s320/DSCF3892.JPG" width="358" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, let me explain why this activity left a bad taste in my mouth. This whole week, we've had a crash course of getting to know complete strangers and opening up on a lot of stuff. We've done a lot of disclosing in 6 days which usually takes at LEAST a few months to work up to. Nope, not this week. Between the ice breakers and artificat speeches we've had to give that describe us, a lot is coming out quite quickly. This leaves one more vulnerable and uneasy than normally. So, things have been intense to say the least. And let me mention, one of the things that has been hard for me is how liberal everyone here is. Not saying I'm a raging conservative, because I'm not, however, I'm definately not a liberal. And it seems everyone here has very outspoken politcal views, which is fine, but when that is the majority of what they talk about and then get in fights about the extreme lefts and rights... well, it makes things tense. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So back to the activity. Todd's newly created activity. Six signs posted on the wall. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Illegal. Illegal, but acceptable. Not a Good Idea. Acceptable. Brilliant. Legal. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;A scenario is read and you go and stand under the sign which you agree with most. Then you and your group come up with an attention getter, thesis statement, and your main points of contention. You get 3 minutes to do so. A great activity to teach students how to quickly put together the main objectives for a persuasive speech. Except that we're not students, and Todd apparently likes to push the envelope and make people disclose a LOT of information on touchy subjects that divides people and their ideals. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Question one: You're driving in an area of high crime late at night, is it alright to disobey traffic signs and signals?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Question two: Is it okay to buy a garment, wear it for a day, and then take it back to the store?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Question three: Spanking your child.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Also, it should be noted that you weren't allowed to explain your main points, and that you had to collaboratively come up with your main points. So, no one got to explain anything personally, there was no inbetween for answers when there were so many shades of grey, and after already disclosing to everyone so much this week already, I think this was just the icing on the cake. Normally, I don't think any of these issues would have upset me so much, but they did today. Exhuastion has set in. Physically, mentally, and socially. I hate that we only have one day off before we have to do it all again. Its getting old really quickly. And I feel more and more isolated from these people I have to spend the year with, with each passing day. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm tired. I'm lonely. I'm drained. I'm disappointed. And I have a feeling teaching isn't going to be as fulfilling and exciting as I was expecting it to be. This week has broken me. And that in and of itself, after this summer, is disheartening.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;...And There Is Dischord In The Garden Tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-5347005121517673446?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/5347005121517673446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=5347005121517673446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/5347005121517673446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/5347005121517673446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/08/who-shot-that-arrow-in-your-throat-who.html' title='Who Shot That Arrow In Your Throat, Who Missed the Crimson Apple?...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKeOZ0oajpI/AAAAAAAAACI/wVqBv3s4o3Y/s72-c/DSCF3890.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-567818771635974732</id><published>2008-08-11T17:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T17:45:43.844-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dull'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Training'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GTA'/><title type='text'>Under The Bridge Downtown...</title><content type='html'>How anti-climactic. I just finished my first day of GTA training and what a horribly dull day. I honestly couldn't even tell you what we did today. It didn't seem like we got much accomplished. We did a few ice breakers. We went over the syllabus. We talked vaguely about what was expected of us as teachers and what could be expected from the students. From 9 am to 4 pm. We spent six hours sitting in a classroom of 15 grad students and one professor and I honestly don't have anything to say about it except that I have to know the syllabus front and back for tomorrow for a 'quiz'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, all of my excitation and anxiety was pointless and wasted. All of my expectations, non-existent in reality. And so, now I'm sitting in my new house, alone, and not surprisingly... a bit depressed. I really hope the rest of the semester isn't as big of a let down and so ridiculously dull as today has been. Hopefully all of the boring-ness runs its course in this two week course of GTA training and that is the rest of it for the entire year. Frankly... I would take good or bad turns in life as long as it keeps things interesting.  I don't mean drama, cause frankly, I'm not a dramatic person, but I want things mixed up.  Just stir it up.  Like I've said before, I want passion in my life, and this is so uninspiring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;... Is Where I Drew Some Blood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-567818771635974732?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/567818771635974732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=567818771635974732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/567818771635974732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/567818771635974732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/08/under-bridge-downtown.html' title='Under The Bridge Downtown...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-4455135560919070579</id><published>2008-08-06T12:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T14:28:12.738-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Upper Peninsula'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Da UP'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yoopers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eh'/><title type='text'>If You Haven't Been There, You'll Never Understand.</title><content type='html'>So, here I be. Sitting in my house in Suburb-ia, USA. And its been almost 4 months since I last was in the Yoop. [and I mean on its land... not stuck in one of its harbour's.] And God, do I miss it terribly. I've traveled a decent amount. I've been to 5 different countries and done a decent amount of traveling within the US... and let me tell ya, I still would take the Yoop [the Keewenaw Peninsula in particular] any day over any other place. It gets in you. It snakes up your feet and legs like a vine, it takes hold of your arms and it infiltrates your blood until it takes over your heart. And it has mine. Here is the story of the UP... and then below is a video I took almost a year ago. The reason I love this video so much is because that nowhere else in the entire world would you find a scene like this. And that is a true story my friends. So without further ado, let me share with you my love for this beautiful place, this different world, this separate peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In da beginning dere was nuttin. Den on the first day God created da Upper Peninsula. On the second day He created da partridge, da deer, da bear, da fish, and da ducks. On da third day He said "Let dere be Yoopers to roam da Upper Peninsula".On the forth day He created da udder world down below. On the fifth day He said "Let there be trolls to live in the world down below". On the sixth day He created da bridge so da trolls would have a way to get to heaven. God saw it was good and on da seventh day, He went Huntin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;[I apologize for the unstable picture. So those who succumb to motion sickness easily, beware.]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-8bf1914dd632a221" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v10.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D8bf1914dd632a221%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331364405%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3D86BBCCFE8E01469A61D50D0E774D06BA26427A.D50FFE7A58BFF9ACE8E45A1745E07A3340F7466%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D8bf1914dd632a221%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D42m4_7By1ZvlPsmzllWDTPKK0MI&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v10.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D8bf1914dd632a221%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331364405%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3D86BBCCFE8E01469A61D50D0E774D06BA26427A.D50FFE7A58BFF9ACE8E45A1745E07A3340F7466%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D8bf1914dd632a221%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D42m4_7By1ZvlPsmzllWDTPKK0MI&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now, its hard to enjoy this land or these people if you don't have a heart for the outdoors and a mind that can appreciate those with a simple life and thought process. Because really, the UP is stuck in da 80's, their way of life is simplistic, they have an appreciation for nature in all its glory and wrath, they actually KNOW how to drive in the snow [because thats all they get to drive in], and frankly, I love every damn minute of it. The atmosphere, the slow, relaxed life style, the amazing scenery, being surrounded by water on 3 sides, cliff jumping, snow shoeing, spelunking in old copper and coal mines, backpacking pictured rocks, day trips to Tahquamenon Falls [the second largest falls in the US], Grey Wolves trotting down the side of the highway, Bald Eagles fighting off a murder of crows for dinner, crazy foxes running around campus, squirrels who have more diversity in color than an entire city, drinking not as sport, but as a survival technique in the winter, drinking cheaply [a gift from God for all college students] the serenity experienced on a clear night when you can see every star in the sky, and those you shouldn't be able to see, due to the lack of mass lighting for miles and miles, the amazing yooper accent, yooper-isms, pasties, Da Bridge, the Keweenaw Peninsula, The Dredge, The Gay Bar in Gay, MI, Copper Harbor, The Ambassador 'Tostada Pizza', Seeing "Canada on Fire" as you near the International Bridge, The Soo Locks, and so on. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My dear friend, please visit the Upper Peninsula of Michigan at some point in your life. Because honestly, if you haven't been there, you haven't lived. And if you need a tour guide, I would be more than happy to show you the best places.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Say Yah To Da UP, eh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-4455135560919070579?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=8bf1914dd632a221&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/4455135560919070579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=4455135560919070579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/4455135560919070579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/4455135560919070579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/08/if-you-havent-been-there-youll-never.html' title='If You Haven&apos;t Been There, You&apos;ll Never Understand.'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-4205370215156817605</id><published>2008-08-05T07:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T07:34:52.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Age of Aquaraius</title><content type='html'>My Horoscope for Aug. 5th, 2008:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"...Your love life will fit into a practical scheme quite soon, although it may get more boring than your curtains..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How could my 'love life' get &lt;strong&gt;more&lt;/strong&gt; boring?  When something doesn't exist, I'd say thats the most boring state it could exist in.  So, 'Seriously?!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good thing I don't put much stock in Horoscopes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-4205370215156817605?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/4205370215156817605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=4205370215156817605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/4205370215156817605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/4205370215156817605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/08/age-of-aquaraius.html' title='The Age of Aquaraius'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-2582932889757626648</id><published>2008-08-03T21:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T04:55:08.607-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Echoes and Silence...</title><content type='html'>There's this show I've been told I resemble. I resemble a character in some aspect, and there has also been some storyline parallel. Being in one of my 'dusk moods' this evening, I decided to watch some fiction that really doesn't make my life look all that bad, cause well, that tends to either enhance the 'dusk mood' or make me feel better. But tonight, there was a disturbing revelation involved with the viewing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJaHBSp6nBI/AAAAAAAAABY/7ZgN6cnJF_4/s1600-h/DSCF3792.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230516473494674450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 282px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px" height="213" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJaHBSp6nBI/AAAAAAAAABY/7ZgN6cnJF_4/s320/DSCF3792.JPG" width="287" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I randomly selected a disc from season 3. In this random episode I watched, the father of a supporting character died. And while I mourned the similarities of of the 'lost cause' and the death from asphyxiation, it hit me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;These callouses that have formed from the two years of damage control my life turned into... are just that. A tough, thick, portion of epidermis to keep my nerves from any sensitivity or pain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All of that bullshit was the trial run. That was just the tremor before the big one. Its coming. It may be a few years off yet, but its on its way. Life has recently been easy and enjoyable for the most part. That just doesn't sit well when you're me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Something wicked this way comes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;...Patience and Grace. And all of these moments, I'll never replace.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;[&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;and all i want is to be home&lt;/span&gt;]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-2582932889757626648?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/2582932889757626648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=2582932889757626648' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/2582932889757626648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/2582932889757626648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/08/echos-and-silence.html' title='Echoes and Silence...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJaHBSp6nBI/AAAAAAAAABY/7ZgN6cnJF_4/s72-c/DSCF3792.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-3942313613839378638</id><published>2008-07-31T15:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T17:47:17.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Dandelion, Let Your Heart Keep Time</title><content type='html'>Ahh yes, Thesis. It's that time, chaps. The time when a girl trying to get through her MA as quickly as possible has to stop procrastinating and being indecisive. It's time to choose. It's time to commit. And so, here is an account of the juggling I have done over the past two months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A personal motto of mine is, "If you don't do it with passion and conviction, whats the point?" I feel like if I'm going to do something, I sure as hell better put my heart in it and commit wholly to the project, whatever it may be. No doubt, I wanted my Master's Thesis to reflect this state of mind. If this thing is going to be bound, booked, and possibly published in journals, I want it to be something worth while and that I can look at with the utmost pride and say "Yeah, thats mine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that in mind, I decided last spring that a good project for me would be a Rhetorical Criticism of Martin Luther's 95 Thesis' that he nailed to the huge wooden door of the Catholic Church. Viva La Revolucion! I checked out 18 books on Luther, Medieval Religion, The Papacy, etc. when I left Mt. Pleasant in May.&lt;br /&gt;A bit ass-backwards, I e-mailed my rhetoric professor in June and asked him what he thought of my proposal. Here is the reply I received:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hi Katey! I'm not sure I'm the best person for this project. I don't speak German, not well versed in the history, and I'm not clear on how you'd go about doing this project. It seems like a large project. Do you have a theoretical perspective you'd like to bring to bear on the act of defying the authority of the church? Is there some reason you don't want to followthrough on the 750 project?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;F!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Alright. Well, this could be a blessing in disguise. My 750 project I really enjoyed writing, and since this Fall is going to be so incredibly busy with 4 classes on top of teaching 2 courses, maybe this is best. It's kind of the easy way out, which makes me cringe a bit, but my Prospectus is basically done, so I could defend that in the early winter and have an extremely easy Spring semester just preparing to defend my finely tuned and finished Thesis. Hmm...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Now if I go get my PhD, I want to do my dissertation on Communication with Alzheimer's Patients. A Rhetorical Criticism isn't going to look too hot to admissions in a highly qualitative and quantitative area of study. DAMNIT! Back to the drawing board...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Or maybe not. I took quant. research in the Spring. I said I was done with studying death, but maybe I don't have to be. This could work out swimmingly, and here is why:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I took 601. I have to take 600 this Fall. It would be who of me to use the same project to keep stress to a minimum. I've already done the actual research and put together the survey for this study. 600 just teaches me how to write an extremely long Literature Review. That means, I expand on the shorter lit review I've already got finished, I have my prospectus done, and I have 1 less paper to write for a class. Basically, I'm using 600 like a whore and writing my Thesis for it instead of picking another topic and starting all over. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And here is why I win. The study I conducted last spring for 601 entitled "The Influence of a Family Death on College Achievement", this study yielded significant statistics that death was paralyzing to students and their perceived academic success dropped post death, however, they felt that with social support, they were enabled to recover more quickly and the grieving process was more bareable. Therefore, if I decide to do this as my Thesis [which I more than likely will now], I might have a higher chance of getting it published in a journal, and then my chances of getting into a PhD program go up with each published article.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In conclusion, what I thought was a huge let down has now become an advantage to me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I win! Why do you win? Cause I win.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;...Now The Clouds Are Gone, All Your Tomorrows Shine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-3942313613839378638?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/3942313613839378638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=3942313613839378638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/3942313613839378638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/3942313613839378638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/07/little-dandelion-let-your-heart-keep.html' title='Little Dandelion, Let Your Heart Keep Time'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-50346569373270238</id><published>2008-07-29T14:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T04:55:09.722-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Want Power In My Words, I Want Passion In My Eyes...</title><content type='html'>This summer has been without a doubt the most fulfilling, exciting, adventuresome, and life changing experience I've ever had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lets skim the surface and start at the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished my first semester of grad school successfully capturing a 3.5+ GPA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went to the Colin Hay concert with a handful of friends and family.&lt;br /&gt;I traveled to Scotland to visit a lovely friend in school at a very prestigious university. I traversed the land, I utilized the public transportation system, I imbibed native libations and foods, I no longer have my right index finder due to excessive shutter button pushing, I took in the countryside, I experienced history, I made some great friends, I won a bet for my mother, and then got home and sat around and was mute for 3 weeks because of the whirlwind that was my extended 10 day adventure in Aberdeen, Scotland. It changed me. I will never be the same. I have seen that there is better, in EVERY aspect of my life, and I know that not only do I deserve that better, but I could have it if I quit settling. My only fear is that, that better that I speak of, will never be found in the USofA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJCx64SpfII/AAAAAAAAAAg/u4GUifjGPCA/s1600-h/Scotland+339.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228874792478276738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJCx64SpfII/AAAAAAAAAAg/u4GUifjGPCA/s320/Scotland+339.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I helped my sibling and mother set up and run the Grace Lutheran Church Vacation Bible School. We did a lot of decorating, planning, directing, assisting, telling, painting, running, picture taking, and cleaning. An exhausting week+ to say the least. And its supposed to be all worth it in the end, because we did such a great thing for community outreach. Still trying to accomplish that feeling. I also lost my work sunglasses somehow on 'sunglasses day'. Still haven't found them. [sad panda] &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJCyz8OKaVI/AAAAAAAAAAo/CSXXTsUw39o/s1600-h/232323232%257Ffp43236%253Enu%253D3249%253E8%253B9%253E9%253B4%253EWSNRCG%253D323373%253A5%253C%253A%253A4%253Bnu0mrj.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228875772785748306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJCyz8OKaVI/AAAAAAAAAAo/CSXXTsUw39o/s320/232323232%257Ffp43236%253Enu%253D3249%253E8%253B9%253E9%253B4%253EWSNRCG%253D323373%253A5%253C%253A%253A4%253Bnu0mrj.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've spent weekends traveling all over Michigan. I spent 'Dillywacker Weekend' [if you want to know what that means, inquire] on The Muskegon River at the Little Red Cottage with my mom, sister, and aunt. I lost my other pair of sunglasses to the Muskegon River as I reared my head back on the dock and they slid off the back of my skull. Again, [sad panda]. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJCzguTtSdI/AAAAAAAAAAw/d6nguVQY7gQ/s1600-h/DSCF3084.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228876542145022418" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJCzguTtSdI/AAAAAAAAAAw/d6nguVQY7gQ/s320/DSCF3084.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I braved a tumultuous thunder storm that flooded the pavement of 131 [which is absolutely ridiculous if you think about it] that I was sure would be the end of me to catch the last Shepler's Ferry Boat to Mackinac Island. I made the boat with a mere 5 minutes to spare because it took me a good 45 minutes to get out of the Grand Rapids area. I spent Wednesday night, Thursday, and a good portion of Friday with my good friend Melissa and her lovely husband Doc. We drank. We boated around the Island on "The Copper Kettle". We got stranded in the St. Ignace Harbor for an hour. We got back and drank some more. We spent the 4th of July at Fort Mackinac [seemingly appropriate]. I left that afternoon and stopped at The Little Red Cottage on the Muskegon River for dinner with the Auntie and Uncle. I spent the 4th of July evening festivities in my bed as I had to be up at the ass crack of dawn to work. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJCw9CxwZ7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/hkSSpKhzOg8/s1600-h/DSCF3236.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228873730141218738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJCw9CxwZ7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/hkSSpKhzOg8/s320/DSCF3236.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I ventured up to Silver Lake to spend the weekend at the Eberlein Cottage with the DenBraber's and the Boot's. We duned. We duned a lot. It took me 3 days to get all of the sand out of every nook and crannie in my body/hair. We played card games. We went Antiquing at the Antique Mall! I won on my purchase. I picked up 4 books, 1 Scottish medallion, but best of all, I found a foot locker from WWII that was in amazing condition for only $25. And then we duned some more. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJC0V1nbVZI/AAAAAAAAAA4/p4-ONz1tafw/s1600-h/DSCF3442.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228877454639846802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJC0V1nbVZI/AAAAAAAAAA4/p4-ONz1tafw/s320/DSCF3442.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I caught an E. Lansing production of 'Wicked'. And it was &lt;em&gt;WICKED&lt;/em&gt; awesome! A bit off from the book, as I expected it to be, and the sugar coated ending gave me a tooth ache, but whatever. All in all, hilarious, touching, moving, and fabulous. Indeed.&lt;br /&gt;I got to enjoy the company of an ex-boyfriend/great friend for a few days as he was home from LA to go to the Foo Fighters concert... which rocked my fricken face off!&lt;br /&gt;I went to Chicago for a Cubs game and spent the rest of the weekend relaxing in Evanston at Northwest University. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJC15idfjII/AAAAAAAAABI/PTbVKaCeSY0/s1600-h/DSCF3736.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228879167484824706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJC15idfjII/AAAAAAAAABI/PTbVKaCeSY0/s320/DSCF3736.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I played in a slowpitch softball league every Friday night with some of my best friends from high school. I had fallen out of touch with them, and this league was just what I needed this summer. I rekindled my friendships, and, without a doubt, they have been rekindled for good. I can't imagine not hanging out with them for years at a time like it has been. These are good people. I most thoroughly enjoy their company. They're my mates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJC06op0cAI/AAAAAAAAABA/29RXZblYupI/s1600-h/DSCF3381.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228878086815379458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJC06op0cAI/AAAAAAAAABA/29RXZblYupI/s320/DSCF3381.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now? Now I enjoy my last two weeks here at home with my family. I didn't do anything on my thesis [even though there is good reason... which will be the subject of my next post], I've decided that I will be pursuing my PhD as soon as I take the GRE on September 11th, and after I've received my results and sent in all of my applications.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plans for my last two weeks include:&lt;br /&gt;Week1:&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday: Mt. Pleasant to get my room and office put in order.&lt;br /&gt;Thursday: Picnic Pops presents ABBA in downtown GR.&lt;br /&gt;Friday: Day on Lake 16 with the sibling and softball in the evening&lt;br /&gt;Week2:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Monday: Dentist&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday: Sibling takes a sick day and we head to Michigan's Adventure for some rollercoaster fun!&lt;br /&gt;Haircut definately at some point.&lt;br /&gt;Friday: Softball&lt;br /&gt;Sunday: Move to Mt. Pleasant for the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;... And When I Wake Up, I Want Life To Be A Surprise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-50346569373270238?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/50346569373270238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=50346569373270238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/50346569373270238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/50346569373270238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/07/cause-i-can-keep-rhythm-with-no.html' title='I Want Power In My Words, I Want Passion In My Eyes...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SJCx64SpfII/AAAAAAAAAAg/u4GUifjGPCA/s72-c/Scotland+339.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-7510043019350016702</id><published>2008-07-29T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T09:59:53.417-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So Here Is The Deal...</title><content type='html'>I apparently am an idiot.  I started this grad school blog to document the horrors that are graduate learning and education.  I learned so much that I forgot my username and password to that last blog... so I copy and pasted the entire thing onto this new one for your enjoyment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, if you noticed, this one is laid out exactly the same.  Same titles, names, format, etc.  I do this in the hopes that you can more thoroughly enjoy the adventures of Miss KFP with as little confusion as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So without further delay...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-7510043019350016702?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/7510043019350016702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=7510043019350016702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/7510043019350016702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/7510043019350016702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/07/so-here-is-deal.html' title='So Here Is The Deal...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-983063160742921587</id><published>2008-07-29T09:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T09:55:22.332-07:00</updated><title type='text'>March 18, 2008 - Get the Message.  On Flea's Fist.</title><content type='html'>Wow... its been quite a while. I will write more to catch up later, but right now, there is a momentous occasion I must write about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister came up on Saturday to celebrate St. Patty's Day, and as we were going home Sunday morning after hanging out with a few of the grad crew, my sister said something about having turned in my assistantship application. I informed her that I had turned mine in back in November, but that I would check just to make sure (even though the applications had been due the day before). I e-mailed Dr. Lesley Withers on Sunday afternoon, making sure that they still had my application on file for consideration. I received an e-mail on Monday from Lesley saying that they did not have an application from me. All they had were two letters of recommendation and my grad school application.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart stopped beating.  No joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I e-mailed her back and told her that I had sent it in the same time I had sent my school application in, back in October. That we had talked about not starting the assistantship in the middle of the year when I had a meeting with her in November, and that if I had to resubmit my application I would be notified. I also asked if I was SOL, [in no uncertain terms].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She e-mailed me back immediately telling me that she kind of remembered seeing my application. She said that there had been some clerical cleaning and it was probably discarded in the trash receptacle. [kind of upset... to say the least]. She then told me that she would give me the benefit of the doubt and asked me to fill out another application so that they had it on file. She also asked for my phone number so that she could call me later that afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got out of class at 9:30 and had two voicemails. My sister called. The next voicemail was Lesley Withers informing me that I had been chosen to be a Graduate Assistant for the 2008-2009 school year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YAY!  So, may I present to you, the newest member of the Graduate School of Communication Graduate Assistant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay!  Free school and $10,000.  Exciting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-983063160742921587?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/983063160742921587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=983063160742921587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/983063160742921587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/983063160742921587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/07/get-message-on-fleas-fist.html' title='March 18, 2008 - Get the Message.  On Flea&apos;s Fist.'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-836269507645508762</id><published>2008-07-29T09:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T09:54:14.848-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feb. 17, 2008 - Its Times Like These You Learn to Live Again</title><content type='html'>What a great weekend I had in Houghton. I got to see my best friend. I got to be in the place I love the most on this planet. It was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had dinner at the Ambassador, we saw stage review, we walked around and looked at the snow sculptures, we went to a party at the "White Trash Palace", we stayed up til 4 AM, we saw Colin Mockery and ___ Bradshaw's improv show, we went snowshoeing, we made fabulous food, we got all dressed up and went to a formal dance, I put my phone number in the tip jar for a cute bartender, we got stranded because of blowing snow, we went to the Ambassador again for dinner, we did homework, we watched Cars, and we made a six hour trek from Houghton to the Bridge. It was an amazing weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wish all of that amazing weekend could overshadow the heartache I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man I was planning on spending the rest of my life with won't grow up. And I can't wait around for him, because I feel it would be in vain. This is the second time that things have ended, and this time the pain is ten fold. The first time there was still a glimmer of hope. This time, there isn't. This is it. For good. No more chances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's killing me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-836269507645508762?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/836269507645508762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=836269507645508762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/836269507645508762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/836269507645508762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/07/feb-17-2008-its-times-like-these-you.html' title='Feb. 17, 2008 - Its Times Like These You Learn to Live Again'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-7430410688793415586</id><published>2008-07-29T09:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T09:53:20.479-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feb. 1, 2008 - Grad School is the snooze button on the alarm clock that is life.</title><content type='html'>Three weeks have since passed of my last entry. I was going to try and do a recap of every week, and like most other things I try to commit to, I have failed. But here goes anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Week 2:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got out of my rhetoric class and felt like I had no freaking idea what I was doing in grad school.  No tornado's this week.&lt;br /&gt;It seems like org comm and quant were pretty standard classes. nothing too exciting there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat down with Lisa Patterson (my org comm prof and my new boss) to talk about what the job she wants me to do would entail. We talk about it on Tuesday night before class and then on Wednesday morning we walk over to another building together to get my payroll account set up with another lady. The previous night in class she went on and on about how excited she was that she was getting married this summer... cool beans, I think thats a good topic of conversation to lull the silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was wrong apparently. I asked her about this being her last semester at CMU and she said she was bummed about it and was really going to miss it. So I tried to talk about the positive side of it and said something to the extent of "but you're getting married, thats exciting!" (figuring that this was her mindset about it from the night before). She proceeded to reply with something like, "Yeah, I guess."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright... ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to the other building and had to go up three flights of stairs. Got to the top (both breathing a bit harder than before) and found a note on the lady's door that said she was back on the first floor and to meet her there. Lisa said, well I wish there would have been a note on the door on the first floor so we didn't have to walk up all of these stairs. So I counter (being optimistic... which I NEVER am) with, well, just think, we got our exercise in for the day. Her: Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay... ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get downstairs and I'm filling out the paper work this lady gives me and her and Lisa are talking and Lisa says something about having to go up all of those flights of stairs, but (smiling) she's glad she got some exercise in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WTF!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well... thats the end of the school week for me. I was going to leave Thursday for the Soo but ended up waiting for my mom til Friday afternoon so that she didn't have to drive alone. I was a very very unhappy panda about that. Not only did I miss out on an extra day of seeing my friends, I didn't get to see any of the people that I wanted to. It wasn't a great weekend. The only good thing was that I made $100 modeling (which was kinda lame this year), I got to see Eric for a bit, and EC for the first time since she left, and spend some time with my mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got back I knew that I had a lot of reading to do and I had a paper for rhetoric due on Monday and my reading response paper due on Tuesday. So I spent Sunday night working on homework.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Week 3:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Monday I think that I've got a proposal due for Rhetoric at 5 and a response paper due on Tuesday morning for Org Comm. Didn't realize until I checked the syllabus online that my RESEARCH PROPOSAL FOR QUANTITATIVE RESEARCH IS DUE ON WEDNESDAY!!! Fuck man. I am fucked. I haven't even picked a narrowed topic yet much less researched any of it. So I've got 3 papers to write in 3 days. I feel screwed though. I get my rhetoric paper and my org comm paper done and turned in on time. I spend an hour at the library on Tuesday (which didn't open until noon because of a snow delay... OF COURSE!) and rent about 6 books. Start reading and taking notes for the rest of the day. Go to class. After class ask Melissa and John if they can help me... I have no idea how to even begin writing this thing. In the duration of that afternoon I cry for about 45 minutes out of sheer desolation and hopelessness. I call my professor (not crying but voice cracking) and leave her a voicemail that I am really unsure of how to even structure the paper and e-mail her with the same message. But back to John and Melissa... I throw questions out to them, they answer as best they can, and send me on my merry way. Not really that merry though. So, I stop at 7/11 and stock up on Mountain Dew, and 3 energy drinks (in preparation for an all-nighter). Get back to my room. Take a few minutes to fuel up with food and libation, and then go to my room and begin writing stuff down. Midnight rolls around and I've got almost half of it done. An hour, I can't believe I got half of it done in an hours time. Sweet... I'm going to bed. Get up at 8, have breakfast, read a little bit more, start writing again and I've got the thing basically all done by 11:30 AM. Yeah, I'm that awesome. Type it up, have John print it out for me at school, and whammy... I've finished my first research proposal paper in 3.5 hours. Whatever. I got it done. It's over with, I don't care anymore. I hate grad school. It hates me. I don't belong here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After class on Wednesday night, because its been such a stressful week, I talk John and Melissa into going to La Senorita's (from now on referred to as "La's") and then ask Courtney to go and she says that she's already planning on it because its her Birthday!!! YAY! So we get there, I meet a few other people. So its Courtney, Chelsea, Chad, Erin, Melissa, John, and I. We're sitting there for a few minutes and I say "so, will you guys be my friends?" They all laugh and say of course! So yay, I have friends now. Courtney invites me to her party on Saturday at some club. I tell her of course! (We didn't end up going though because of the time when we got out of the movie theater- but that comes later). But it was exciting for me to be social for a few hours and to meet some people. It made me really happy. "I like the sun Noobie, it gave me hope." -Coxism&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I head home Thursday to get my bite-splint fitted. Stay the night. Played volleyball for my sibling's team that evening. Went out afterwords and had some drinks with my old volleyball coach, who just had knee surgery... crazy story about her, can't believe it. If interested in it, please ask. I don't feel like typing it, but here is the gist. She's a cop, was on a domestic violence call, and basically almost got run down and killed by the guy. Anyways, saw Bryan for a few on Friday morning then hit the road to get back here. Studied all day, Eric got here around 11 on Friday night. We watched the Simpson's movie then went to bed. Got up, went and had breakfast, watched Daniel Tosh on a DVD, took a nap for a while, took showers, went and had dinner at O'Kelley's (delicious). Proceeded to the Bovee Center where the box office is to get tickets for the myth buster's show (which was the whole reason he came down here in the first place) to not only find that the thing isn't open on the weekends, but also a note on the door saying the show is all sold out. Wow... cried my eyes out. I felt like such a shithead. I was so irresponsible that I didn't buy tickets in advance. I can't believe I'm such an ass hole. I'm in grad school, I should know better. So we went and saw Juno at the theater, then rented 3 movies and watched 2 of them. Got up, had McDonald's for breakfast (real classy, I know) then Eric left and I made outlines of essays for the rest of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Week 4:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just finished up week 4... well finishing I should say. I'm getting things done for the most part. I got my rhetoric proposal paper back on Monday and got a 48/50 on it. Quite pleased with that, and surprised too. I rocked that shit, but I wish I knew why it rocked so that I could keep on rocking. I started my job on Wednesday. She gave me some transcriptions to do and I had to find rooms for training sessions on Monday and Tuesday. Got the rooms taken care of, and I finished the first transcription yesterday. After watching for a while and going back and forth in my head if it was her or not, I realized that Kate Dinnocenzo (a girl that used to go to Lake State) was in the focus group. Craziness. Of all of the people here that I don't know to be in a focus group that I'm transcribing and then have her in it is pretty, well, weird. whatever. We watched Jesus Camp in Org Comm on Tuesday... kinda of creepy to say the least. Wednesday during our break, I gave my prof a semi-hug and thanked her for having the only class I really felt like I understood what it was actually about. She smiled and then reassured me that everyone feels like this in grad school and that I've got kind of a double whammy because I'm starting mid-year. So kudos to me. And then she handed me the forms to join Lambda Pi Eta... the greek Communication honors society. SWEET! $40 bucks gets you membership forever and an induction ceremony/dinner in the spring. yay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melissa had her gall bladder out yesterday in Petoskey, so I'm hoping that I get to go see her today and give her the little present I got for her. Supposed to go over there and spend SuperBowl at her house so that she doesn't have to be alone. Courtney is supposed to come too. Hopefully its not too lame. But I'm sort of fond of lame... so I guess I'll be alright if it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now, I'm reading and working on trying to find more sources for my research paper. The final draft of the proposal is due on Wednesday, so I've got to make my changes and add more sources and I'm golden. I'm also trying to get a big jump on my rhetorical paper that is due on the 11th because I won't have much time to do it next week... but I will save those adventures for my next update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling better than I did before.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-7430410688793415586?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/7430410688793415586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=7430410688793415586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/7430410688793415586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/7430410688793415586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/07/feb-1-2008-grad-school-is-snooze-button.html' title='Feb. 1, 2008 - Grad School is the snooze button on the alarm clock that is life.'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-9026394297989606838</id><published>2008-07-29T09:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T09:52:01.662-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jan. 12, 2008 - The Tornado Siren Sounds...</title><content type='html'>So, I've got my first week of Graduate school over with. And it is probably one of the most memorable starts ever to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;I had my first class with Dr. Ed Hinck for Rhetorical Criticism. Things started with ten minutes to write a 1 to 2 minute speech on "Why I'm a Good Graduate Student." I wasn't able to answer this with any support to my claims. I wrote about my work ethic, my desire to learn, and my high expectations of myself. Then we had to trade papers with the person next to us. I handed mine to 'Justin' and he had 3 bullets. There was no speech, but his 3 bullets were focused on the support system and the resources he had in his peers and professors... not himself. I felt like an asshole after I looked at his outline. How selfish am I? Then we ended up giving our speeches. I made people laugh, which was a good thing I suppose. I know that I should be confident in myself, but I just felt like a vain, narcissistic bitch. We finished with speeches, and Ed went into going over our 25 page paper for the semester.&lt;br /&gt;Then the hail started. And then the siren went off. We all looked at each other. Everyone with a bit of panic in their eyes. We all looked at Ed who sat there for a minute. Then told us we were going to keep going with what we were doing.&lt;br /&gt;We got out of class (and avoided being buried under a pile of rubble or swept into the air) and it was just pouring. Started driving through campus on West Campus Dr. back to Broomfield and came to a rather large puddle. Didn't realize that that puddle was actually a small lake. I was nervous after I got into the middle of it that I might not be getting out of it with my little car. But I did.&lt;br /&gt;Got back to my apartment and my roomie Laurie was putting towels on the windowsills. They were leaking quite profusely and running down the walls. Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;Stayed up for a while looking through speeches for my rhetoric paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday started very very slowly. Woke up around 10. Got out of bed a little after 11. Decided to finally go grocery shopping around 1145. Had 3 voicemails when I got out of there. My dad called and told me that the news said school was canceled. Melissa called and told me that lightening hit a transformer and school was out of power. So no class my second day. A bit bummed actually. Maybe later in the semester I would have been able to enjoy it, but not knowing anyone there made for a very very very lonely day. Spent most of it in my room by myself... feeling isolated, lonely, and a bit depressed. Didn't have my first Advanced Organizational Communication class with Dr. Lisa Patterson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday I got up early. Actually did some productive stuff. Got a parking pass. Went tanning (cause our apartment complex offers free tanning in the leasing office, and my apartment happens to be right next door to the leasing office.). Met with Lisa Patterson about a position helping with one of her research projects. And then I had my third class. Quantitative Research with Dr. Lesley Withers. That was the first time all week that I felt overwhelmed. I didn't understand a single thing that was being talked about or the research things that I felt everyone else already had some understanding of. Then she went around the room and asked for us to tell her what we were planning on doing our research on. I was the only one who didn't know. Everyone in there had had COM 600... except for me. So COM 601 is going to be a bit more of a struggle for me than for everyone else. Seems like a reoccurring theme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home Thursday morning. Dentist appointment at 11:30. Came home for a while. Went to drop my car off to have it looked at. Went back to the dentist to have my impressions redone (they broke my front teeth off of the first batch). Then my mother and I went to the hospital for the afternoon to be with my sister. She has been sick for a while now. She thought that her throwing up was due to her over eating and was really embarrassed. Then after getting sick on the plane home from Florida. Then spending all night Monday night up puking, and all night Wednesday night up puking, she was admitted to the hospital for gal stones. She had her gal bladder taken out on Friday. So the past two days I've spent at the hospital for the majority of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw Margaret, Claude, and Matt last night for the first time in years. It's amazing how your best friends from high school can so quickly fall out of your life. But it was nice to see them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now today; today I've spent mostly reading. I'm starting to feel the pressure of grad school and the time constraints I'm dealing with. I opened my book last night to read chapter one of Rhetoric and found that chapter 1 is 137 pages of "The Purpose of Rhetoric". So now that I'm on page 35...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-9026394297989606838?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/9026394297989606838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=9026394297989606838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/9026394297989606838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/9026394297989606838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/07/jan-12-2008-tornado-siren-sounds.html' title='Jan. 12, 2008 - The Tornado Siren Sounds...'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2695120232219112737.post-8321454115650554946</id><published>2008-07-29T09:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T09:50:51.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jan. 2, 2008 - Out Of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;My grad school orientation is tomorrow morning at 8:30 AM in Mt. Pleasant. I didn't even find that out until this morning. I have no place to live yet. I just signed up for 2 of 3 classes this evening and class starts in 5 days. The planning for this huge transition in my life has been, needless to say, quite absent. I hate not having a plan. It hurts me to not have a plan. In fact... the last 3 months of my life (concerning grad school) have been all to hell in a hand basket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that things happened to my advantage and I know I got really lucky to have been accepted into the program so quickly. But the chaos, uncertainty, questions, and lack of communication (hmm... a bit odd right? should this be a HUGE siren going off?) have done wonders to my stress levels (on top of just trying to graduate from undergrad).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I sit... only 6.5 hours from departure, and I am sick to my stomach. Not cause I'm sick and not because I'm hungover from New Years still, but because this is what I do to myself. I make myself sick when I get stressed. I can't eat. I'm on the verge of crying, all of the time. But that is a combination of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sad that I didn't get to mourn/celebrate graduation from undergrad. I got home and had a whirlwind week of Christmas festivities and sibling birthday celebration. And this last week has been spent searching for a place to stay, spending a day in Fremont, and figuring out what the hell orientation was going to happen and where. I got my grades back for my final semester and I had my best grades ever. I graduated with honors. These are huge things! I am DONE with school. If I wasn't continuing I would be done forever right now. Its sad. Its exciting. It is so emotionally tagged and I don't get to experience it. Yeah, I know that I'm done. But instead of reveling in the fact that I'm all done, I'm worried about not having anywhere to live. I'm worried about not having any classes yet. I'm worried that I might not have a job lined up with the comm department. I'm worried about my entire life's savings is going to be gone in a few days. I can't even be excited about starting school at Central because there is too much to be worried about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's down to the last minute and I'm really starting to feel the weight. My heart is going to explode if my stomach doesn't eat itself first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to higher education...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2695120232219112737-8321454115650554946?l=kaydeelady.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/feeds/8321454115650554946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2695120232219112737&amp;postID=8321454115650554946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/8321454115650554946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2695120232219112737/posts/default/8321454115650554946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaydeelady.blogspot.com/2008/07/jan-2-2008-out-of-frying-pan-into-fire.html' title='Jan. 2, 2008 - Out Of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire.'/><author><name>Kaydee Lady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16963800997760382702</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9c20vn4rESo/SKIuF88CXzI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fb-ndvKbpqU/s1600-R/thistle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
