Incoherent Morning Nonsense

I've just finished working out. I'm sweating. I wander into my roommate's room, where she's sleeping, despite the sun shining in through her windows onto her face.

"Hey, it's sunny."

"umm..glrowall...soi..iz..."

"Did I wake you up?"

"iznpral..."

"Look, *roommate,* I have muscle in my leg." I flex to demonstrate my newfound muscle.

*Roommate* sits up, suddenly completely coherent. "You already had muscle there. If you didn't have muscle, you wouldn't be able to walk."

"I didn't have BIG muscles before."

*Roommate* rolls her eyes, slouches back down on her bed, completely exhausted by the force of uttering those two sentences.

"Go back to sleep."

"th...glarump..."

Choices I Should NOT Be Forced To Make

This whole idea started when I realized that the first of the presidential debates is going to be held tomorrow night when another important (to me) event is occurring. But before I get to this conundrum, maybe you need a bit of background. Yes, I currently live in Minneapolis, have a bus pass (yeah, Metro Transit!), walk dutifully around Lake of the Isles whenever the weather cooperates, and have dated numerous musician-types who play in strange rock-type bands, but my roots are far from this urban existence. I grew up in a small town in Michigan and I think this should tell you enough about who I am that no further explanation is needed. However, I've been told that this is NOT enough. I drive a pickup truck. It's blue. Her name is Magenta. And I've ALWAYS driven a pickup truck. I've never owned another type of vehicle, my friends. Not just Magenta, but my pickup truck history goes way back. Along with this pickup history comes the country music history. There, I admitted it. In my car, not only do I have NPR programmed, but I have all THREE of the local country stations programmed (even the one that turns into Spanish-speaking programming after nine at night). I listen to country music and drive a pickup and live in the city limits. How many of us are there? I don't know. But I'm standing strong to my country roots. No matter how many indie rockers I date. Choice #1 So the choice tomorrow night is...presidential debates OR a free (FREE) concert at a local mall by a currently popular band plaguing country music stations named Rascal Flatts. Both start at the same time. I am tempted to see if anyone could record the debates for me. See, I'd just read the transcripts of the debates, but you miss something if you miss actually SEEING the debates. I actually remember listening to the Gore/Bush debates in 2000 on the RADIO and I thought Gore did just fine, but the news clips I saw showed me how important it is to WATCH the things, especially when television is the medium through which most folks are gonna see them. But, it's Rascal Flatts. Of the handful of CDs I've actually purchased in the last year, theirs is actually one of them. What should I do? Those guys are hot. And they sound okay, too. Oh, the agony of a person torn by two loves. Choice #2 Pee and miss the next bus and have to wait a half an hour until the next bus OR do not pee, catch the next bus, and have to pee ridiculously for the next forty minutes on the way home. A choice no one wants to make, but we've all been there... Choice #3 I felt like that "Harry and Louise" (1) commercial last week. My allergy medication ran out. I wasn't getting paid until today (whoo hoo!). I thought, well, the ragweed levels are down to low and it seems like everything else is okay, so I can just wait until I get paid to get the medicine. And I had kind of run out of food to pack for my lunch, so I thought that I should spend the money on FOOD. Alas, I was foiled because the very next day when I didn't have any medication to take, I sneezed all morning long. I finally just gave in and ordered the medicine and put it on my credit card. Because if symptoms can be alleviated, they should be, damn it all. Don't worry folks, I got paid today, so the medicine will be paid for with little fanfare. Choice #4 Pay attention to the flighty math prof who gets confused by his own speeches sometimes OR stare outside at the beautiful, hunky undergrad men rollerblading by? Choice #5 So, I was asked to write a tenure letter for that prof I had as an undergrad who looked down my shirt and made office hours really uncomfortable. The dilemma is that this man spent a lot of time helping me decide on grad school programs to apply to and wrote me letters of rec. So, I can either just suck it up and not mention the sexual harassment in the tenure letter OR not write the letter and just make up an excuse like I was busy or didn't feel I had an useful input to give to the tenure process. ARGH! Choice #6 Tell that obnoxious woman at the gym that she's been on that machine for well over the allotted time period OR just suck it up and quietly do more crunches in the corner, stewing all the while. Choice #7 The nectarine I packed for a late afternoon snack OR those peanut M&Ms calling my name from the vending machine as I walk by. Choice #8 Today the lead headline of the Star Tribune, the Minneapolis newspaper was (I went to look this up to make sure I wasn't exaggerating) "Blackboard Blues." The tagline underneath ran "When Prof. Lawrence Gray enters a math classroom at the University of Minnesota, his teaching tools are his brain and a stick of chalk." Ummm...yeah, so the story was about how white boards and computers are replacing CHALK BOARDS. September 29, 2004. Mary Jane Smetanka, that's the author of this fascinating story. That's right. There are WARS going on, a presidential election in a little over a MONTH, but they ran a story on the FRONT PAGE about fucking CHALK boards. That's right, folks. Chalk boards. So the choice is whether or not to write a nasty letter to the editor or just stew in my own juices. That's enough. I'm aware that none of these choices are life altering. I'm not deciding whether to get married or stay single, to buy a home or not, to have a baby or not, or even to finish school or not. But these are the dilemmas that make my day to day life interesting, if nothing else. Not exciting, not life altering, but certainly these are things that give me pause. And that's something to note. (1) CHIC (Coalition for Health Insurance Choices) sponsored a now-legendary TV spot called "Harry and Louise," which featured a middle-class married couple lamenting the complexity of Clinton's plan and the menace of a new "billion-dollar bureaucracy." According to Robin Toner, writing in the September 30, 1994, New York Times, "'Harry and Louise' symbolized everything that went wrong with the great health care struggle of 1994: A powerful advertising campaign, financed by the insurance industry, that played on people's fears and helped derail the process." This citation is completely plagiarized (word for word) from the Center for Media and Democracy web site.

Woes and Choice

As part of penance for a life that oftentimes revolves around criticizing the lack of political involvement that most folks have, I have undertaken the responsibility of one political event a month. This event is usually a rally, demonstration, or, lately, vigils, but I consider just about everything political. When I voted in the primaries, I checked my political involvement off the list for September. I would consider going to a Michael Moore movie plenty political enough, supposing you actually talked about it with others and thought about it critically. The idea is that lots of things qualify as "political events." Today I went to ANOTHER political event for the month of September. Good for me. If any political scientists want to poll me, I'm active. Anyway, my roommate and I went to see a show put on at a theater five blocks from our house today (that we didn't know existed - shame, SHAME on us) entitled "Words of Choice." It was a compilation of about ten or so different sketches related to abortion. Some were quite moving, some were funny, and all were a reminder of just what has happened in the last thirty years. I wasn't yet born when Roe v. Wade was decided, but I was born for the Casey decision and I've seen the movement fade and fade. Pro-lifers have taken over the airwaves, they've taken over the side of the road, and they've taken over our judicial branch. But now I have a new spin on things. The reason we see all these anti-abortion signs is because those organizations have nothing better to do than to put up billboards. The choice folks have to pay for stuff that relates to actually providing services for women. You just don't see those anti-abortion folks doing that. As a matter of fact, one of the skits touched on just that subject. Some anti-abortion people convince a woman to get an abortion, but then when the child comes, they are nowhere to be found. And that's just it. We support women through whatever decision they make. And the other side doesn't have to do that. So they have money to get billboards. We give abortions to women who are too shamed to say anything about it. This show, while it had moments of levity, made me sad. I was sad that there were no more than twenty of us in the audience. I was sad that thirty years later, we're still talking about abortion as if it would be better if it were illegal. It didn't work in pre-1970s. It didn't work with prohibition of alcohol. It doesn't work with drugs. But some people seem to think it will work with this issue. Crazy. And sad. And sad for the single issue voters out there who can't get over this. And sad for women who are merely receptacles for fetuses. And sad for all those women who don't get information and know their rights. And sad for babies who are born into unloving homes. And sad for babies who die when there could be loving homes. And sad for women whose children die. And sad for the folks who get blown up in abortion clinic bombings. And sad for people who arrange those bombs and kill doctors and nurses. And sad for people who harrass patients outside abortion clinics. And sad for doctors who can't tell people what they do at cocktail parties because they do *gasp* abortions. And sad for all of us. Because we can't realize what we're doing to our world by arguing about all of this.

Ribbons and lectures

Ribbons. Do you remember when ribbons were the intellectual property, as it were, of the left? Red ribbons for AIDS awareness. Pink ribbons for breast cancer awareness. Purple ribbons for domestic violence awareness. Remember all that? Now I know that some of these things have been slightly controversial. Particularly, I know that the pink ribbon has a lot of baggage. It's PINK. And we're trying to avoid stereotypes, for heaven's sake. There's also a sort of anti-ribbon breast cancer activist community. "There is a value to awareness, but awareness of what, and to what end?" asks Barbara Brenner, activist and executive director of Breast Cancer Action (BCA) in San Francisco. "We need changes in the direction the research is going, we need access to care - beyond mammograms - we need to now what is causing the disease, and we need a cure. The pink ribbon is not indicative of any of that."(1) The red ribbon for AIDS was originally from some gay rights group. They were a reminder that gay people were dying. It was only later that straight people on the street and celebrities on the red carpet started wearing them. Some argue that the red ribbons have been around so long and are so ubiquitous in our society that they have stopped meaning anything any more. But still. These ribbons are OURS. The left deserves some symbols of its own. I guess the right has a certain claim to the ribbon. With the yellow ribbon. You know. Tie the yellow ribbon 'round the old oak tree kind of stuff. Although this song was written in 1972, there apparently wasn't any real use of the yellow ribbon business until 1980. And wasn't it right about then when the AIDS ribbons were coming out? The first time the yellow ribbon was used in big was was the first Gulf War (2). And, walking around my neighborhood earlier this week I saw a yellow ribbon on a tree. But don't, please don't, please, please, please don't coopt our damn ribbons. This is brought on by my disgust at the magnets folks are putting on the back of their cars right now. They are red, white, and blue and say crap like "Support Our Troops." There are the yellow ones, too. My father bought one while we were on a family vacation, road trip style. I had to ride in a car with these stupid things. Across multiple states. Imagine my agony. Yeah, you guys have already stolen the flag and now you're taking our ribbons for your stupid war. Yeah. I support our troops. I want them to live. Please bring them home. And bring us back our ribbons. So I lectured today for Professor Flaky But Easy To TA For. I don't know where he was. Me, dressed in my most authoritative-looking outfit, attempting to control 120 unruly undergraduates. The lecture went well. I made them nod, laugh, and shout. And even if they don't remember a damn word I said, they will remember that I said shit in front of them. And that's all that matters. I'm young. I'm fairly cute. I'm semi-coherent. They will remember the young girl swearing in front of them. (1) Fernandez, Sandy M. "Pretty in Pink." Mamm June/July 1998. (2) Emery, David. "Yellow Ribbon 'Tradition' Is of Recent Origin, Folklorists Say." Urban Legends and Folklore.

Schla-Flies

Today the one and only Phyllis Schlafly was at our humble institution of higher learning. Why? Well, there was free pizza involved. But somehow my liberal ass isn't as pushy as those folks who are part of the Federalist Society and I didn't quite make it to the pizza before the crazy conservatives had scarfed it all down (and shame, SHAME, on all those people who took TWO pieces before everyone had their share). And because I wanted to know if Schlafly was really as big an idiot as I assumed she was based on my Gloria Steinem readings. Also, in addition to all of that, I thought it would be fun. I thought I would give my brain a workout by creating rebuttals to all she had to say. Instead, I just got myself riled up. Riled up about a lot of stuff I know nothing about it. So, of course, I'm going to list things she said that were upsetting to me. Because that's what grad students do. We take way too long to process things. And we think people care what we think. So here goes. Schlafly rebuttal (take one).

• Her presentation was on her new book and how much she hates the Supreme Court. In particular, the issues she chose to focus her assault on were the Pledge of Allegiance under God controversy, the taking down of the ten commandments in public areas like courthouses, and gay marriage.
• In the audience was a guy (a friend I was with told me he was a first year law student) with a Nalgene water bottle in front of him. His water bottle had a huge sticker on it that said, "I (heart) MY PENIS." Oh, I died. I laughed. I really did think I was going to roll on the floor.
• So, this event was sponsored by the Federalist Society. Essentially, they are some strange folks who believe that the Federalist Papers (remember - Madison, Hamilton, and Jay propaganda to get New York to ratify that newfangled constitution back in the day under the psuedonym of Publius?) are the gospel. The Constitution should be interpreted according to principles laid down in the Federalist Papers. Clearly Schlafly does not believe that (we'll get to that later), but there was a point where she said that something that John Adams wrote could not be used to defend a position because HOW COULD HE POSSIBLY HAVE FORESEEN EVENTS of today? How could Pulius? That's all I wanted to know.
• Okay, she really, really, really hates Earl Warren and the Warren Court. I wish I could express to you how she said Warren Court like it was the worst thing in the world. (Another side note. It reminds me of the time Reagan was talking about Dukakis and he said disdainfully of him, "he is a card-carrying member of the ACLU" and then Dukakis, at his next speech, smilingly holds up a white card ands says, "here's that card that's creating such a ruckus" or words to that effect. Reagan's tone of disdain was similar to Schlafly's.) She said that the Warren Court transformed the First Amendment into a tool for pornography and turned the laws protecting us (who is us, anyway? certainly she's not speaking for ME, is she?) upside down. Damn Earl Warren and his insane belief in freedom of speech.
• Okay, and it got better. She was talking about how the Supreme Court ruled that pornography on the Internet (including pop-ups) was a legal right under the Constitution. And that was unfair. She said it was unfair to expect parents to MAKE SURE THEIR CHILDREN DIDN'T SEE PORNOGRAPHY and set their own controls on home computers because THE GOVERNMENT SHOULD DO IT FOR THEM (aren't the conservatives the ones who are always bitching about too much governmental interference?). Okay, here's her analogy. Let's make sure I get it right. It's like there's a flasher outside, in front of your house, and you call the police and they tell you to pull down the shades. Ummmm...well, this analogy has a major problem as far as I can tell. Blocking internet pornography is within your control, with some different blocking programs and whatnot. Also, porn on your home computer is hardly dangerous to your personal safety. A flasher in your yard is hardly within your control and may be potentially dangerous.
• Okay, my roommate's notes are here to help me on this next comment. Schlafly has a different conception of the private/public distinction than I do. We can't be trusted to control our own home computers, but we should be forced to listen to a chant, invoking the name of a diety that we may or may not believe in, in many public venues. We need to be protected in our own homes, not in public.
• She hates the ACLU like Reagan. Such contempt in her voice when speaking of the organization. Who knew Roger Baldwin was creating such a monster? I'm gonna get myself a membership cuz I want to be cool like Dukakis.
• I need to also read an Earl Warren biography. She really hates him. Someone who manages to get such extreme reactions from this esteemed member of the Eagle Forum is someone I want to know about. Anti-god, pro-communist (many guffaws in the audience at this), anti-prayer Warren Court. Damn, damn, damn them. Again this is ACLU-related. The ACLU claimed that those damn communists should be allowed to demonstrate freely. The (damn) Warren Court agreed. You know, we really do need to keep those dissidents quiet.
• So, just because the public thinks that communists are bad, the Supreme Court should go with it? Public opinion should lead judicial decisions. Oh, wait. But only sometimes. Like, it would have been bad if they would have decided to agree with public opinion for Plessy v. Ferguson. No? Huh. Public opinion should not lead public opinion. That's what Publius said in the Federalist Papers. Oh, so maybe Schlafly just disagrees with the Federalist Society on this ONE thing. So, ummmmm, the Supreme Court should only be an activist court SOMETIMES. Some civil liberties are good, but some are bad. At least this is what I got out of the whole thing. Maybe she sees something else. It's all in your personal view.
• There was a random comment that the pro-communist decisions made by (who else?) the Warren Court dismantled internal security. I think I was too busy staring, slack-jawed, to listen to the reason for this, but in my notes it says WTF?! I think that's enough about that.
• Roe v. Wade has no constitutional basis. Okay, maybe. But I'm going to give both prolifers and prochoicers a HUGE wakeup call here. The Constitution says nothing about abortion, health care, OR privacy. So a literal interrpretation of this document does not help you. Either side. You need something with a little more meat to convince me on either side of this debate.
• Okay, here's the point that I have to give to her. The Defense of Marriage Act. Yes, it's possible that Congress can pass a law to have it removed from the jurisdiction of federal courts. True enough. Congress created those courts and can sure as hell restrict what they hear. Congress did NOT create the Supreme Court, though (a little thing called Article Three of the United States Constitution did), and so the constitutionality of DOMA can be (and SHOULD be) examined under the province of the Supreme Court. They can't take away judicial review. Unless they (Schlafly and her ilk) want to somehow redo Marbury v. Madison. What? Undo the foundational case of judicial review, you say? Isn't that revolutionary? Sheesh. No, they're not revolutionaries. They're patriots.
• The Equal Protection Clause should not override a PROPERLY MADE law. Huh. Well, damn it all. That crazy EPC sure helped us override those crazy racist laws like Plessy v. Ferguson and Dred Scott v. Sanford. But, those were properly made laws. Damn. I am NOT even having to dig deep to find counterexamples to everything she says. Or, does she think those were badly decided cases? (Someone asked this very question. Her response was shockingly honest. It was a good decision, but it was made by an activist court [her words were actually supremist court] because the decision went beyond the scope of what was before the Court [the issue of one man's fate]). By the way, minorities can't depend on the EPC for protection. That's how we ended up with Plessy v. Ferguson. That's also how we ended up with Brown v. BOE.
• Marbury v. Madison was a "fine decision," but it was a limited decision and established judicial review, not judicial supremacy. Crazy, I say. Apparently she thinks that equal means supreme. Because the Court is attempting to rise above its "least dangerous branch" label (which of course, is what Publius called it, so Schlafly thinks is the way things SHOULD be), they are attempting to be supreme. Not true. The Court is simply doing its best to have its proper place in the checks and balances of our system (also an important Publius idea).

Okay, there you go. This is what happens when a liberal goes for free pizza. All hell breaks loose on paper. But, really, I didn't have to dig too deep in the memory banks.

And, just in case Schlafly reads this (ha!), the Supreme Court is the most trusted branch of government. People don't hate our Justices as much as you do.

Oh, and a shout out to the law students. You were very nice to that crazy, tightass, pro-family lady. In our department, things would have been heated. You took what she said, you listened, you ignored. No heat. Impressive. It will stand you well in life. Especially if you decide to be trial lawyers. And if the whole lot of you decide to be trial lawyers, good luck getting a job.

Bountiful Optimism

Okay, so here are reasons I am happy I am me. 1) Today I got to lay down on the grass in the sun in the middle of the day and take a nap. The ability to look outside and see the sun shining and the leaves rustling in the trees and say, "hey, I should go lay out there for a bit and soak up some of that nice outdoorsy atmosphere" and then actually do it in the middle of the day is something to be thankful for. Yes, I had to stay up later tonight to make up for my truancy in the middle of the day, but it made me happy and that was what mattered. 2) Today I got to eat lunch with a friend and we discussed big, important things, like the relative merits of mushy oatmeal or oatmeal that is so dry you can sculpt it and which local radio station was the best and how to best clean his nasty, nasty, nasty floors that look like they haven't been cleaned since the 70s. 3) We baked pumpkin bread muffins last week and we just pulled some of them out of the freezer for breakfast tomorrow!! Whoo hoo!! Muffins for breakfast. 4) My best friend in the universe sent me an email today and told me that she loves me. 5) I had ice cream today. The real stuff. No soy. No yogurt. Straight, from the cow, creamy ice cream. 6) My cell phone ringer makes me giggle. "War" by Edwin Starr. What is it good for, anyway? 7) John Kerry might win the election, right? Right? Right? 8) I had a super-productive day today, so I can go to sleep thinking that I have done as much as I can and crawl under my blankets and slip off to peaceful dreams without panicking because something still has to be done for tomorrow. 9) New shoes from Payless!! Brown with pink (PINK!) laces. 10) All of my books for the semester have arrived at long last!! I will no longer have to make photocopies of books I have purchased but have not received in the mail, yet!! Whoo hoo!!

Goulash and Constancy

I wrote this (LONGHAND) during my math class. But I typed it up for all to enjoy. There's a beauty to where I sit in my math class. I'm in the sixth row of seven. So it doesn't look like I'm a total slacker, but the professor never has to look me in the eye. It's next to a window, so if I lean back in my chair, I look like I'm just resting or thinking, but I'm really just looking at the quad (they call it the mall here, but I'm not pretentious enough to get used to that). There are trees. Blowing a lot on this windy day. It reminds me of my undergrad institution on days like this. It was always windy there. And beautiful. And it's beautiful here on days like today. Even overcast and grey, the brick buildings and green lawn and people scurrying to do their academic errands provides me with a sense of peace. Even when I first moved here and life was so sad and strange and awkward, the quad was familiar in its bustle and the unique atmosphere of relaxation mixed with tension. Sometimes I would troop over here from the other side of the river just to see something normal to me. It's a different place and the buildings are different, even the TREES are different, but it's still so common. An academic constant. I had lunch with a friend today. He made a huge pot of goulash on Sunday and has been eating it ever since. He says it's the beauty of constancy. And that's just like my seat in math class. My view changes every day - different people, different weather - but it's still the same. Like the goulash. And my seat.

A Day In The Life

The sun is not yet up yet and I find myself waking to the buzzing, the godawful buzzing, of the alarm clock. When I hit snooze, apparently I actually hit the "time" button and changed the time displayed in those little red numbers. So when I finally crawl out from under the blankets a mere ten minutes later, I think it is about three hours later than it should be. I hop to it and run to the shower. But I soon cleverly deduce that since the sun is still not up, it's not as late as the damn clock said it should be. When I get to the class I TA for (on time, thank you), Dr. Flaky But Easy To TA For says, "Whoops. I forgot I have to miss class next week. You don't mind doing the lecture for me, do you?" Well, I guess not. I'll spend hours prepping for YOUR lecture and not do my own seminar readings. No problem. 11:10 AM Diligently I am working at my desk. Diligently! I'm reading, taking notes, and trying hard not to laugh and disturb my officemates. Alexander Hamilton's (do you suppose they called him Alex back in the wig wearing days?) elitism is fantastic. Well, yeah, only propertied men and merchants should vote. There are the only ones who can be "entrusted" with "considering the general public interest." How can you disagree with that? The educated rule!! Or, ummmm..., I mean, everyone should vote. Right. Everyone. Okay, but the point of this. Suddenly there is sun shining onto my desk. From the window. Okay, the sun is a celestial body that the planet we live on (Earth) revolves around. It emits light and heat. Here, in the City of Lakes, we haven't seen light from that particular celestial body in three days. Thunder, lightning, rain, wind, and umbrellas have been present, but not beams of light from the sky. So why now? When I'm diligently (diligently!) working? 11:50 AM Walking across the Mighty Mississippi. No sun remaining. 1:15 PM Into a building that houses the math department here and the math library (a whole library devoted to mathematics - imagine my delight and adoration!! why did it take me two years to find it?!). There's a notice on the bulleting board proclaiming "10th Annual Conference on the Hyperbolic." Duh. Sign me up. Or don't. Because I don't know what that could possibly be about. Into the bathroom of this building. Okay, people. It's been rainy and windy and I walked across the river. Imagine the state of my hair. I glance at mirror and my hair is amazingly awful. I laugh and smile at the Asian chick checking out her own reflection, "nice hair I have" I say NICELY. And she goggles. (Side: I've been in this bathroom lots of times before and never seen another woman in it. Apparently there aren't many math girls.) I brush my hair. She goggles. Like she's never seen another woman or a brush. As I leave she's still goggling. Hopefully this is a good sign that some lonesome man who only gets geeky math girls in his classes will want to meet a semi-intelligent, semi-cute girl from another department and take her out for tea. 3:30 PM I get down to my math class. Class ensues. 6:30 PM Bus it home.

Ragweed Count

So today is the first day of classes here at the U of M. I don't have classes on Tuesdays, but that didn't stop my body from thinking that today was the first day of the rest of my life in academic hell. I woke up, unable to move, unable to breathe, and considering whether or not dry mouth was a symptom of death. I managed to shower, eat, and get dressed while exchanging verbal jabs with my roommate before catching a bus (only two blocks from my apartment - they changed the bus route for my convenience!!). The number of times I have sneezed today is equivalent to the number of commericals the Republicans have aired disparaging Kerry's record of service in Vietnam (countless, I'm sure). The number of allergy-related products I have consumed is just below that count. I just checked weather.com and the level of ragweed in my area is VERY HIGH with a RED ALERT, so I'm convinced I should have just crawled back into bed and let my tired and sore body rest. However, I'm in an air-conditioned computer lab where the ragweed levels are not disturbing me. The noise in the computer lab IS disturbing me, but whatever, at least I can breathe and pretend that I care about omitting fourth order autoregressive coefficients in time series analyses. I can pretend my body is NOT sore. (I think the soreness stems from an overly long rollerblading experience yesterday, not the allergies, but at this point in the day, I'm blaming EVERYTHING on allergies.) A professor I had last semester just walked in and told me that I need to use inhalable steroids. Fantastic. If I ever decided I wanted children, I could just tell my imaginary partner that the reason I cannot conceive is because I needed steroids to help me through midwestern allergy season (oh wait, that's all the seasons except winter). Apparently my eyes are too red and I look tired. I love school. And the midwest. And time series. And my snazzy Voldemort for Republicans t-shirt.