Much of the year the weather around here is harsh and depressing. Like NOVEMBER.
But June and July are downright pleasant. When I’m in the midst of crappy weather I look forward to early summer when the wheat is green.
Spectacular! Fail!
Well I failed on my quest to post every day in November. The demise of my plan started out as a simple mistake and spiraled down from there. Here’s what happened, in a nutshell - to give you an idea of the crazy in my life.
Friday (day one of fail):
My Friday will give you an idea of my average day. Work from 8:00am to 10:30am. Run for the bus (about a five minute walk) and catch the bus to my 11:10 class. After class, I eat my sack lunch and then head to a lab meeting at 1:30. Often when the lab meeting is over at 3:00, I return BACK to work and work from 3:30-5:30 or 6:30. This particular Friday I gave myself a break and instead we went to eat dinner at a friend’s house, because I am trying to avoid getting the flu be more social.
It snowed that evening so it took us a little while longer to get home from our dinner engagement and by the time I got home it was past midnight. I gasped as I remembered while brushing my teeth, but it was too late.
So Saturday I was set to resume in the spirit of posting every day. We got up early to head through the snow to a bar on campus to eat and spend time with Longball’s father. We attended the game shellacking and I officially froze my ass off. Like I said, it had snowed the night before and there was still snow on the ground. At some point in the third quarter, I had a laceration on my nose from wiping it with the back of my sleeve and I begged that we leave. Longball and his father though wanted to stick it out until the bitter end. We then trudged for 15 minutes on the ice back to our car when I developed hypothermia. We dashed off to “Taste of India” on the University of Idaho campus and stuffed ourselves with warm, spicy Indian food. I came home and collapsed on the bed in my wool cap and parka and fell asleep. At 9:00pm.
Sunday I was ready to resume my schedule but Gladys had a, ahem, health issue. She would like me to be delicate so I will just say that it involved some bloody loose stool situations. She has been sick lately so Sunday was shot while I worried and wrung my hands.
And then Dan ate some unleavened yeast dough which sounds really funny. Except when Longball looked it up and turns out the dough can expand in a cats tummy and burst the stomach. Oh and as the yeast does it’s magic it creates alcohol which can cause alcohol poisoning. Oh and if neither of those two things happen the dough can create a bowel obstruction if it does not pass.
And now I’m home sick. And on double poop watch for both cats.
So. Fail!
Second Annual
As much as it seems like this new life is perfect and I’m loving it, it’s not true. I don’t always skip around singing out my love to Pullman and WSU. Just most days.
On those rare other days when I don’t love it, I dislike it immensely. Like this morning when I woke up and had had it. With everything. And then I remembered that it was November.
Last November, I snapped. The summer was fun, and the Autumn semester started out fun. But as the weeks wore on into November, I began to get tired. Sure I was hitting the semester wall and was tired of the crazy schedule and tired of never having a free moment when I didn’t feel like I should be studying. Tired of studying.
The weather also got crappy in November and it turned from a beautiful crisp autumn into a dreary, mushy leaf mess.
I had also kind of “had it” with the love of Pullman, surprisingly. Most of Longball’s friends and family view Pullman as Mecca. They all have (or at least talk about) only good memories. They approach every conversation with me with some variation of “how much do you love it!” Not really even a question, just a statement. And yes, I love it but sometimes I want the freedom to talk about how much I don’t love it here sometimes.
Longball is the prodigal son and it seemed like every interaction was spent reminiscing about the good old days. When we go places we were “The Prodigal Son and his girlfriend.” I had a hard time finding my own identity. I was either Longball’s girlfriend, or just another nameless undergraduate, but I didn’t know where Amie was.
Even my own old Alma mater UW was dissed at every turn. The school rivalry jokes don’t stop just at football, but people’s comments attack the integrity of the school and my education. Sure, I am more than where I went to college but it seemed like everything about the old me was either forgotten or actively made fun of.
It all culminated in my football team losing in a heartbreaking fashion, and then Longball’s brother made me watch it a second time on the replay over dinner.
I came home and cried. Cried over the football game, cried over not having any friends on my side, cried that there wasn’t any Amieness anywhere. I just wanted everyone to SHUT UP about the Cougars.
So we made a decision that I would try harder to make connections and friends.
So I thought that last November’s burnout was a one time deal. I have fixed the problems from last year; I have three really good girlfriends that I can gossip with, people who never knew Longball from before and take me on as a friend based on my own merits.
Still the November burnout is back. It does seem that part of it is seasonal. It’s freezing mushy leaf time and the semester is so freaking long and the notes and tests are endless. But it’s more than that. Those yearly events push me into a month-long questioning of “why am I here?”
It seems that November has now transformed into my identity and role-questioning month. I feel constantly in between everything. It’s obvious that we are not undergraduates anymore. Longball works with undergrads and I go to school with them every day and yes, they are often as vile as you remember. It’s sometimes hard to spend all your time with people who have their whole lives ahead of them manage it so poorly. They have all the years left on their biological clock, they have no credit card debt yet, they have no wrinkles. I don’t necessarily want to be them, but I feel envious that I don’t fit in.
We are also not quite living the lives of adults. I go to school every day and can’t take days off. I study nights. Longball works nights and many weekend so people very understandably plan adult lives and invite us to do adult things and we can’t. We miss family events and weeknight dinner parties because people forget that we have crazy schedules. Everyone is having babies, getting raises and buying houses. I don’t necessarily want to be them, but I feel sad and envious that I don’t fit in.
We don’t even fit in to the graduate student circle either. I don’t have a mentor, funding or any department that organizes parties or events for us to attend. I do want to be them and I’m just not there yet.
So I guess November is my month to deal with issues of self, and remember that who I am doesn’t need to nicely fit into any category. Which I think I’m okay with. I like it that I don’t just glibly go along without questioning where I am going, so then bring it on, November. November sucked last year, but then it got better.
Plus this November, I hope I’m winning the football game.
Longball has a friend who owns 30ish acres in the North Idaho woods where her and her husband are building a house. Last Christmas she said we could go out there and cut down some trees for our Christmas tree.
She doesn’t own a tree farm, we just got to go to the woods. And cut down a tree.
Being in the woods in the snow was breathtakingly beautiful. Longball’s father came with us and the three of us walked around admiring the trees, sometimes in silence and sometimes loud and giddy from the crisp air and sunlight.
Living in an urban area my whole life, I never got a chance to wander around without trails and fellow hikers.
At one point we lost LB’s father. So we tracked him.
We found him.
Finally get found our little fir, Longball’s father found one and we dragged them through the snow, across the draw and back to our truck.
I get to be much closer to nature here and participate in days I never could dream of.
Fun and odd outdoor day trips: I will always remember that day. Someday I may have to get my tree from a lame tree stand and I will remember how much more meaningful it is to see a tree in the woods. Maybe someday I might live somewhere where there is no snow and I will definitely miss the snow. I will not take winters or the outdoors here for granted.
Hopefully even after I leave this house and leave Pullman, I will someday have a yard again. But this house marked the first yard I’ve had as an adult. I loved being outside as a kid, but then when I moved to the city I didn’t miss the yard much.
But once we moved in here I remembered why I like having a little bit of a yard. Growing up, our family had a vegetable garden. I was usually called upon to pick and harvest with my sister since were homeschooled (read: childhood labor). My mom had us write about our garden and I believe both Alison and I wrote poems of woe about picking. But looking back I LOVED the fruit and vegetables we grew. Nothing tastes better than snap peas or tomatoes fresh from the garden.
Last summer and this summer I grew vegetables in a tiny plot I dug up on the side of our house. I’ve grown lettuce, peas, radishes, corn, beans, zucchini, pumpkins, basil, an Anaheim pepper, carrots, marigolds, sunflower seeds, zinneas and a shitload of tomatoes. This picture is after I dug up everything last year but am squatting beside my little pumpkins.
We have a very large front yard with where three large trees dump all of their leaves. We are not as on top of this as I’m sure our neighbors would like, but it does require some tending to the lawn including a massive leaf rake. Longball and I spent a day raking leaves and I was initially dreading it, but there is something really rewarding and physically working outside. You feel like you really accomplish something.
Or, if you are Longball, there is always something rewarding about standing around and drinking a beer:
My yard: someday I will remember you fondly, at my small attempts to grow my own food and remember how bad we were at taking care of our leaves and smile. Maybe someday I will live in an urban area and miss you. Or maybe I will live with a huge yard and miss how small you were. Either way, I’ve loved having some little outdoor life to tend to. I will not take you for granted now!
*these pictures, and the ones from last post were taken last Autumn. I’m trying to slog through all the pictures I want to share from the past year living here.
When my girlfriend was here she asked me when I think I’d be applying for grad school. I launched into an anxiety-ridden tale of how I wasn’t quite on the ball with my planning and wouldn’t be applying until 2010 which would mean I wouldn’t be done until I was the ancient age of maybe forty, I whispered with dread.
I told her I felt like my life won’t start “for real” until I am done with grad school and have that all elusive career, I whispered with awe.
And, I believe I cried a little bit. While everyone in my life is buying houses having babies, getting promotions and the like, I am toiling in classes with 19 year olds talking about the next illegal substance they will be trying this weekend.
Everyone is passing me by and my life is passing me by.
My friend clucked her tongue and reminded me that we were once undergraduates back, oh over ten years ago, and we were just waiting to be done with college and get a real job. She reminded me that wouldn’t we give anything to go back, slap our overly serious selves, and enjoy college.
In another fit of tears Longball said that someday when we are older and we drive back down our street we will cry then because of how much we missed our lives the way they are now. Our neighbors, our house, our life.
So I am determined to try to think about what I will miss years from now and try to enjoy it in the moment. First up: football and tailgating.
I never went to college football games while I was in college. Now I have more than my fair share living near two colleges.
Pregame festivities include watching the band:
Sitting in the section where one can yell profanity at will:
And be ridiculous in public:
I had never tailgated either until we moved here. I find it to be quite invigorating.
You get to eat outdoors just like camping!
And be ridiculous:
Football and tailgating: I will miss you someday when I have to spend my Saturdays being responsible. Don’t let me take you for granted!
I’ve been reading about reproductive behavior, including the topic of pair bonding. Approximately 5% of mammals form monogamous relationships, including our like-minded friend the prairie vole (meadow voles are polygamous).
One thing the prairie vole doesn’t have to contend with in her relationship is boredom. Life on the prairie probably keeps their relationship fresh. Humans, on the other hand, can get boring.
Like probably most other American couples Longball and I have tried to instill a “date night” where we do an activity together once a week. Here is a usual Friday night (what is supposed to be date night) in the Amieable/Longball household:
Collapse on the couches
Make up stupid songs about the cats and sing them together
Person One will suggest we order a pizza while Person Two will refute vehemently with mock shock: “That would be so stupid and unhealthy!”
Person Two will then suggest we go to the drive in while Person One will be dutifully appalled with a “Do you want us to die?”
This will continue until we’ve consumed all the carbohydrates in the house in a ravenous stupor while we make a decision. Chips, bread heels, baking chocolate, whatever.
We will likely watch some reality television until we fall asleep.
So as you can see, we need help. Part of our date night dearth comes from a lack of funds, for certain but we also suffer from a lack of creativity. My friend was in town this weekend and she had a lot of good ideas. As a result of her, Longball and I have tentative plans to buy a football and throw it around at our neighborhood park to be active together.
We also lifted a pack of dominoes from his father’s house.
But we are stuck. Please tell me, what do you guys do for date night? Bonus points for things that are cheap and don’t involve me getting so hungry and bored that I eat the rest of the cat treats in the house.
So I realized that technically it is past midnight and therefore I “missed” a day, but in my mind I’m still up and 12:30 is an extension of Saturday.
I have a very good reason for not posting until later because one of my best friends FLEW here to visit us. My friend Sable and my sister have both been awesome enough to come visit, but special props to my Travel Companion for FLYING TWO PLANES to get here.
We took her to the dairy and drove her around to look at scenery - two requisite items on any Pullman travel itinerary. We had grand plans to go running today but instead sat on my couch and talked all day while Longball graciously left for awhile, then came back to make us dinner and then dutifully listened to stories of the “good old days.”
It’s very easy for me here to be goal-oriented and somewhat isolated in my pursuit of grad school. I needed an old friend to remind me to “connect the dots” between the different eras of my life and to remember that there is more to me than the relentless drive to get the perfect exam score. No matter where I get in to school, I am still me outside of papers and quizzes and PhD’s.
So yes, I am a bit tardy because I spent a little too long drinking red wine, gossiping and pausing “Grey’s Anatomy” every minute to “discuss.” Anyone who has an old girlfriend understands the priorities.
Well now that I have sufficiently survived Pullman through many changes in circumstances and seasons, I feel like I can call myself a resident. I have been thinking about all the things I’d like to say about the town and my new life. I thought I would give homage to my friend Janet and do a quick “Loves-Hates” list. Some of these are funny tidbits that I want to mention (either because I love them or hate them), but don’t have enough meat on them for longer thoughts.
Okay sorry Jan if I botch this. I’m not a professional like you.
Pullman
Hate: Longball got a parking ticket on our two-block residential street for parking against the “flow” of traffic. In Seattle as long as you weren’t blocking the street and weren’t on top of a fire hydrant, you could park any which way you could get in. It was a dog-eat dog world. The traffic cops seemed to give you a grudging respect if you could tip your car sideways and get into a spot on Broadway.
Love: Longball has received two tickets here in Pullman for ZERO dollars. Getting a ticket in Seattle means you can’t eat that month.
Hate: No good Asian food and no Indian food at all.
Love: The community of grad students who get together and sponsor Indian food potlucks.
Hate: I miss the Mariners.
Love: Studying math at a little league game at the park two blocks from my house. A very fancy Persian cat tiptoed onto the outfield by taking two demure steps and then stared down the players in the infield. Two more steps until the left fielder shouted “kitty!” and both teams ran toward the poor Persian. All game play was ceased.
Love: Bunnies and quail and moose hopping and strutting and lumbering (respectively) around my neighborhood instead of drug addicts and psychotic killers.
Love: A wide variance of ages, interests and income levels in the town. In my neighborhood in Seattle it was stuffed full of rich, single yuppies with a few smattering of HUGELY wealthy families. Here I see families, elderly people, Republicans, Democrats, farmers, academics.
Hate: Not a lot of ethnic diversity.
Love: My bus drivers play the radio over the bus while we drive around town. Some days it’s NPR, some days it’s the oldies (Neil Diamond). Nothing better to put you in a festive mood.
Hate: This is still a small town at heart and nothing happens on time here, ever. The buses all run consistently 10 minutes or more late.
Love: Everyone (businesses) is pretty polite and nice. Very different than big cities.
Hate: Despite being nice, no one really knows how to do anything. Partly perhaps because the town is young full of college kids or maybe because there is no pressure of competition like in urban areas, but most people in businesses don’t have any skill. I went to the campus “Express Mail” and they could not take my mail….?
Love: The truly skilled people you find are golden. If things don’t work out with Longball, I’m marrying my auto mechanic Carl. In a small town your reputation is your currency.
Love: Everything is dirt cheap.
Hate: Everything is covered in dirt. My house is old and dirty. Being a college town means everyone rents to college students who don’t care (my landlord admitted to me he hadn’t washed the windows in the 20 years he’s owned the house). Also the agriculture and intense wind, especially at harvest, blows the dirt around everywhere.
Love: Meeting different types of people I would never interface with in Seattle. One woman makes clothes and jewelry for Pow Wows and her and a bunch of my coworkers were talking about a dead porcupine on the road and how they wanted to help her get the quills for her Native American clothing.
Hate: Roadkill and dead animals everywhere. It’s the country.
Love: Generally more days of warm weather and more sun.
Hate: WIND. At one point today I caught my reflection in a window and my bangs were standing straight up in the wind.
Love: The mayor plays the tambourine at the 4th of July picnic.
Hate: College kids
Love: College kids
So far when people ask what ever happened to the song I was supposed to do for my sister Alison’s wedding, I conveniently ignore them. On the one hand, I’m extremely happy I did it because it meant so much not only to my sister, but because it felt good to be a part of the wedding experience. (They pressed records with all the songs for wedding thank-yous. Cool idea, no?).
On the other hand, I am not a professional singer or a professional pianist or, well really a professional anything. But this is not the time for THAT existential crisis (again).
I decided to link to it though because enough people have asked and more importantly it was something that I did that was really scary and I need to do more scary things. Yesterday I wrote about my regret that I didn’t play sports as a kid. I didn’t play because I was too scared to fail and look stupid. I’m trying to get over those kinds of fears.
And hopefully this will encourage everyone else to take the plunge in some way as well. I did it, and I only cried a little.