stress and conversation

I don't mind you under my skin

Stress is a compound interest problem. If I could remember my math classes I'd probably be much better equipped at dealing with life's little stressors. The issue is that when one thing is keeping you on the edge of your nerves, everyday annoyances needle you to the point where someone breathing too heavily through their mouth is liable to make you lash out. It especially doesn't help when a lot of the little things are consequences of the one big thing.

For example: let's say you're dead broke. What cash flow you are bringing in has to go directly to major things like rent, bills, and gas and you don't have anything left over. This means you avoid going out with friends, which is depressing. It means a debt you owe to your roommate is suddenly postponed, which creates tension. It means you can't buy someone a birthday gift, and that you're stingy when it comes to driving places so you can conserve gas. It means when your roomie is inflexible about getting $8 your frustration with their lack of understanding is compounded much more toxically than it should be.

The good thing about stress, perhaps, is that it makes you buckle down and focus on what exactly it is you need to do to eliminate this joy-killer from your life. Lacking money? Make every second at work count. Don't spend it on silly things like Taco Bell or CDs. Sit down with the roommate and calmly discuss what it feels like to be broke and how to work around the situation. Make conversations with the boyfriend and other significant people count, since seeing them is slightly more difficult. Strengthen relationships with the parentals so you can mooch off them.

Just kidding. Sort of.

My favorite type of conversation to have is the ones where we discuss how to properly go about building a conversation. It requires not only a knowledge about interpersonal communication but also includes a sharing of ways of employing insight and tact. Hypothetical conversations are always much more significant and difficult than their real manifestations anyway. It's good brain aerobics.

Conversations in the hypothetical stage:
-The Mutal Grievences
-The State of the Union
-The Cautionary Tale

Q.E.D. bitches,
Cathi


P.S. 4th Place in being funniest in the State!

Sit rep

Awake and unafraid

I like to think that I cope well with not only change, but with spontaneity. It would speak well of my character if I enjoyed surprises, but when they come in the form of a 3 page research paper due in 3 hours, my love for the impromptu is tested.

Have you ever sat down and really, truly thought about your fiscal situation? I mean apart from tax time (which is nigh!). I recently had the revelation that I, Cathi Martin, am spoiled. I don't mean in a "rotten" sort of sense, just "spared the true hardships of reality". This hit me harder than a Lincoln hits a utility pole when the day after "my" car was wrecked, I was in possession of not just another vehicle, but essentially a brand-spanking-new one. I may have never lived in a big fancy house, known what caviar tastes like, or worn designer jeans, but I have been beyond well taken care of.

I need to work on eliminating irrational spikes of jealousy from my emotional repertoire.

It would be nice to think that I'm exactly where I want to be, but I think that's a hard sentiment to be sure of. Doing well in school? Check. Successful in speech? Check. Surviving on my own? Check. Content with my job? Check. Deliriously happy with the boyfriend? Check. Acceptable fashion sense? Well... I guess there's always room for improvement.

A Favor House Atlantic,
Cathers

one year

I've got a history of wearing my mind on my sleeve

The heart, on the other hand, tends to stay locked in my chest pumping blood like it's its job, for better or worse. Which is good, cardiovascularly, but not so good emotionally. The depths of the allegorical heart remain a mystery to me intellectually, if not intuvitively.

Conversation has never been an easy thing for me to accomplish. While expressing ones self is one of the basic tenets of human nature, I spent more time as a child with my nose in a book and my mouth firmly shut than I did debating the finer points of Pog technique with my peers. This lack of practice with verbal expression had made even the simplest of sharing points a thing of torture. It's like having one of those rubber seals they put syringe vials covering my mouth. It physically feels like I'm trying to push through something when I think I should divulge some sort of private thought. Sometimes I'm brave enough to be able to force my way through, but afterwards the barrier always seals itself again. None of this "chipping away at the brick wall" nonsense.

One year, two days ago I, the brazen hussy that I am, made the first of a series of moves with a Mister Alex Durbin. I can't say that was The Beginning, but it was definately the start of The Beginning. Hindsight being 20/20 I feel confidant in saying that things have turned out for the best, although it doesn't feel like it's been a year. I think that's good.

L&O, Cathi

Lovely things

I knew that the lights of the city were too heavy for me

Let's take this from the top.

I told Robert-the-16-year-old that the reason he thinks "dating is pretty lame" is because he hadn't dated the right girl. That yeah, doing the same stupid things over and over again, like going to movies or walking around downtown Naperville does get tired and old, but that's not the point of dating. It shouldn't really matterwhat exactly you're doing, just the fact that you're doing it together. Talking to that person should be the high point of your day, what it is you look forward to. He said his conversations with his best friend were like that. I told him he was in love with his best friend, and after some brow-beating he stopped denying it.

I related that story to my dad over dinner last night, and he kept grinning at me like he knew something I didn't. Stupid grown-ups with their smug smiles and worldly knowledge.

All I know is that "absence makes the heart grow fonder" is a romantic way of saying that you miss someone to painful pieces. It's also a good cover up for the fact that suddenly insignificant irritations like missed or short phone calls and perceived indifference are suddenly much bigger deals than they should ever be.

Now off to the Wisconsin Love-Swing, which is way less dirty or exciting than you'd expect. Giving speeches in the arctic circle, while an amusing sitcom idea, is not my concept of a rollickin' good time.

Table saw,
Thrine

schooly things

Give me your right hand, but keep your left hand free. Let's run in circles, yeah let's make history!

ACHTUNG: Einer gegenstandlos, egoistische Aufsatz ist unter diese Achtung. Ablaufen Sie mit Umsicht*.

I believe it was Durbin who pointed out that the quotation above reminded him of the orangutan dance in the Jungle Book. Fitting, considering the song is about monkeys.

After doing some number crunching (anyone else remember that computer game?) I've realized that I'm, literally, one single credit hour over being able to graduate a term early. It's not really worrisome, just "grrr" frustrating. I suppose I can't complain, seeing as, regardless, I can graduate on time, if not early with some fast talking, with two entire Bachelor's degrees. Fancy me. You know what that means, though? I'm approximately one year, six weeks away from being a real grownup. Maybe I should go for a Master's, just so I can a) put off paying my student loans for another 3-4 years and b) pretend I'm allowed to be irresponsible for a little while longer.

What do you think the odds are of me convincing a richy-rich high school (maybe Neuqua?) that they need a radio program? Because that would be super kick-ass. Kick-asstic, if you will.

For once, school isn't making me crazy. Granted, academically, school has never really had to make me break a mental sweat, but deadline-induced stress-sweats have been numerous, especially since college started. Time management: 1. Cathi: 0. Having only two classes makes me feel like I'm getting away with something diabolical and evil, especially since the "homework" side of my day-by-day schedule is essentially blank. I will admit that, Dark Lord allegiance aside, it's really nice to be able to come home after class or work and think "What do I need to do? Watch two hours of Law and Order? Fabulous" without actually neglecting something of real importance. I assume this lackadaisical approach to life will end come Spring Term, but I pledge to enjoy it while I can.

I think I'd like to be an intern at WGN radio this summer. Yeah, let's do that.

Sorry if I bored you, but you can't say I didn't warn you.

Love,
Cathi

*Altavista's Babelfish translation: "NOTE: One articleless, egoistic essay is under this attention. Run off with circumspection."

Motional

If love is a labor, I'll slave 'til the end

Emotional people have never made a lot of sense to me. And when I say "emotional" I don't really mean "cries at the drop of a hat", I sort of mean "has emotions on a regular basis". I, for one, am in more or less of a perpetual state of contentment. I veer slightly off sometimes into mild amusement, gentle frustration, or sometimes even vague giddiness, but all in all I run on a pretty even keel. Even when I was a kid I never really saw much of a point in the wide and varied expressions of my peers. I was never one for running around and screaming or throwing temper tantrums. I've never even been in a fight with a friend. Nothing ever really seems worth it.

All of this is nice, of course, when it comes to maintaining relationships and being on good terms with my parents, but when my...wherever it is that emotions come from (hypothalamus? hippocampus? Heh. Campus for hippos) decides to kick in, I get pretty confused on top of whatever emotion has cropped up. My knowledge of how to handle emotions is about as extensive as my know-how of automobile maintenence, except I know enough about cars that I was able to help my daddy change a headlight yesterday.

For example: I didn't even realize how much Alex going out of town affected me until I started crying when I got off work. The thought process went something like this.

1) I can't believe how late it is
2) I'm really hungry
3) It's sort of late, what's open?
4) Dennys!
5) I should call Durbs and make him come get food with me
6) ...
7) ...oh wait.
8) Dude this sucks.
9) I'm crying?
10) I'm crying.
11) Why am I crying? It's not that big of a deal.
12) I'm still crying
13) Sad face.

Total incompetence in the emotional department has its perks as well, such as always winning "Honey I Love You" and being able to shrug off criticism. While it might make me robot-like, I'm pretty okay with it. It keeps me from flipping out on obnoxious customers and vapid lab partners, at hte very least.

Linda Thursday!
Cathi

2007

Build God, then we'll talk

I'm lucky, it would seem, that at the advent of every new year, I'm struck at how many amazing and new things I accomplished the previous year. It surprises me every single time at how much I grow in experience, if not as a person, between Januarys.

2006 was a good year for me. All things considered, it may very well have been my best year ever if we judge things on a good incident to bad incident ratio. My overall happiness throughout the year is slightly marred by my usual "winter melancholy" that cleverly disguised itself in the form of boy-angst for the first couple months of '06, and so when I think of good old 2006 I might remember first "oh boy was I ridiculously depressed about that thing" before I remember the good. Such is the way with minor trauma, I suppose.

2006: The Main Events

The Boyfriend - In late February I made my first ever "first move" on Alex, and he had the grace not to kick me unceremoniously from his house. A strangely indeterminate amount of time later we decided that yes, we were dating and yes, we were each other's boy/girlfriend. This confusion smoothed itself out into what eventually led to "I love you's", and keeps leading me every day into meaning it more than I did the day before. Sappy, I know. I'll give you permission to go throw up before I continue with the list.

The Internship - February was an important month for me, it seems. I spent the next few months taking the trian to Chicago at ungodly hours three days a week, as well as additional days for mind numblingly boring/face rockingly awesome promotion jobs. Q101 always had infinitely more interesting promotions, if only because when people came to the table I didn't have to hear them say "I've been listening to The Loop since before you were born!". Once I was bestowed a VIP pass, and anther time I ran meet and greets for some (pretty darn) famous bands. Sometimes I, myself, got treated like a celebrity and other times like dirt. All in all, I wish I could have stayed.

International Travel - Until the end of July, I'd never gone anywhere more exotic than Arizona, and suddenly I was whisked away to Ostroda, Poland for two weeks in the summer, and then off to Berlin, Germany for two and a half weeks just a couple weeks ago. I have a passport (with the worst picture of me in the history of pictures of me), visa entry/exit stamps, and lots of pictures. I now appreciate sparkling water, not bathing, and the metric system.

Independence - Much as I had suspected, living on my own isn't very different than living with my family, other than much, much more expensive. My apartment is finally beginning to feel like "home", and is messy enough to look like a home that belongs to me. I tend to neglect my mom and dad, however. I should probably start putting up post-it notes to remind me to at least call them every so often.

Twenty One! - yeah, whatever.

And now, without futher ado, my 2007 wish-list:

Dean's List (I really need to start achieving again)
Another internship (WGN?)
Keep the Boyfriend (lack of heartache always a plus)
Kick ass at Nationals (both of them?)
Good driver's licence picture (ha!)

That's all, really. I'm pretty low-maintenence this year.

Take this to your grave,
Cathi