29 Apr 2017 - Brunch and Bufotoxin
Evening. This post is technically still late, but whatever. No one's keeping score.
Day...65? I think that it's 65. It should be. If it's not, oh well; no one's keeping score.
Mood: 3 - 7. I'm not a big fan of wide-range days like this.
I spent an hour shooting the breeze with a friend from the other side of the country around 2am this morning, while I was still in the lab. Even though he and I have been in more or less constant contact via Facebook since about September 2014, this was the first voice call that we've had, and it felt good to put a voice to the personality that I've come to know and dearly love. Eventually, I'm going to have to give him an anonym, something dank and memey. Much of the call was silence, with me working on my bees and him playing Overwatch, but I greatly enjoyed having company in my quiet lab.
For some reason, I decided that it'd be a good idea to get some studying done after I finally finished pinning around 3:40am, resulting in my not leaving the building until about 4:45am. Once I got out, though, I realized that it was raining, and hard. While I had an umbrella with me (my lab, for some reason, has a bunch of umbrellas just in the storage closet), it was very flimsy, and I doubted that it would be able to withstand the deluge that was going on. I spent about an hour sitting under the building, staying somewhat dry, checking the radar. The thought of calling the police and seeing if they'd be willing to give me a ride back to my dorm crossed my mind, but given the record law enforcement has with people that aren't white, that thought was quickly abandoned. Staring at the storm, and deeply uncomfortable in the booming, crackling thunder, I called Curly a couple of times, hoping but not really expecting that she'd pick up and give me a ride.
Eventually, though, I kind of just sucked it up and walked the kilometer or so back to my dorm when the storm's intensity decreased a bit, hooking and clipping as many things to my backpack as possible so that my hands were free. A highlight of the walk back was sharing a quiet moment with a cold and tired honeybee that I found while taking momentary shelter under the library. She walked onto my hands without much coaxing, likely grateful for the warmth of my flesh. I felt bad for being unable to help her more; I didn't have any sugary liquids on hand to feed her, and I didn't have a safe way to carry her back with me to my dorm. Having to leave her on the cold brick wall in order to continue on my way pained me; I may not be fond of honeybees from an academic/research standpoint, but I have a soft spot in my heart for all bees, maybe even softer than my spot for cats.
The only parts of me that got wet were my feet, because there were too many large puddles on the way back to not get completely waterlogged shoes. I think that a good (and bad) thing about growing up in Chicago is that weather does not scare me - I'll probably be killed one day because there was a tornado watch and I decided to walk/bike home anyway.
Once I made it back to my room, I had the great idea to do laundry, or attempt to do laundry, rather than just go straight to sleep. Mind you, I made it back to my dorm around 5:30, 5:45, and I had plans for brunch at 10. Starting laundry was my first mistake. My second mistake was going to sleep during the hour-long dry cycle, setting alarms to wake up in time to get my clothes out. Well, my sleep-deprived body had other plans, and I ended up not waking up until 10:47, almost three hours after when I wanted to be up, missing brunch with Favorite Person and her parents.
After spending several hours berating myself about missing an opportunity to be social, I eventually made it down to the dining hall for breakfast. I noted an increase in my heart rate as I thought about eating, and my piling food onto my plate was accompanied by thoughts along the lines of I'm only allowed to have X amount of Y food. I recognize that that's not a really healthy way to go about eating, but...it was that, or guilt for overeating.
Following breakfast, I took a leisurely walk to the Japanese garden, feeling extremely self-conscious about my body as I made my way over. With temperatures in the high 70s and humidity around 100%, I'd decided to wear just a tee and shorts, revealing more skin than I normally do. Even though I was, on a conscious level, aware that no one would be scrutinizing my skin too closely, I was nervous about not having my self-harm scars fully covered. Today was the first day since last summer that they weren't hidden under layers of fabric.
At the Japanese garden, I entertained myself by watching and swatting the large carpenter bees nesting in the seating area, feeding the piggish koi, and harassing every toad I could catch. With one, I had a grand time squeezing its parotoid glands, making the toxic secretions ooze out. It felt like popping a really gnarly, really gross whitehead, and it was super satisfying in a very disgusting way. I don't think that the toad appreciated my glee, as indicated by the annoyed peeping and perpetual I will fight you expression, but that's fine. Most animals aren't too happy with me catching and holding them.
Though it was far warmer than I would have liked, chasing critters around the pond was a lot of fun, and got me out of my head for a while.
Being the weirdo that I am, I took a toad with me when I left the garden to do work in the student center basement, where I stayed until 7pm or so. When I reemerged, it was again raining, but I was less bothered the second time around. Slipping off my flip-flops, I walked back barefoot, splashing in puddles and enjoying the cool water over my feet. Oh, I let Sir Toad go as well - I didn't intend to make him my pet.
Nothing else of note happened the rest of the day. I worked, I read, I asked Curly to bring me food and she did. The reflexive first thought after she brought me noms was I don't deserve friends like her, and that is something frustrating. Having to counter my own thoughts is a major energy sink for me, and there's no real way to get around it.
I don't have anywhere to be tomorrow, so I think that I'll rub one or two out and then sleep until hopefully no earlier than noon.
Until then.
I wish we could open our eyes
To see in all directions at the same time
Oh, what a beautiful view
If you were never aware of what was around you
30 Apr 2017
Postscript - I've been thinking about adding pictures to entries, but I don't know. I kind of like this text-only format. Do any of you readers have an opinion one way or another?
Day...65? I think that it's 65. It should be. If it's not, oh well; no one's keeping score.
Mood: 3 - 7. I'm not a big fan of wide-range days like this.
I spent an hour shooting the breeze with a friend from the other side of the country around 2am this morning, while I was still in the lab. Even though he and I have been in more or less constant contact via Facebook since about September 2014, this was the first voice call that we've had, and it felt good to put a voice to the personality that I've come to know and dearly love. Eventually, I'm going to have to give him an anonym, something dank and memey. Much of the call was silence, with me working on my bees and him playing Overwatch, but I greatly enjoyed having company in my quiet lab.
For some reason, I decided that it'd be a good idea to get some studying done after I finally finished pinning around 3:40am, resulting in my not leaving the building until about 4:45am. Once I got out, though, I realized that it was raining, and hard. While I had an umbrella with me (my lab, for some reason, has a bunch of umbrellas just in the storage closet), it was very flimsy, and I doubted that it would be able to withstand the deluge that was going on. I spent about an hour sitting under the building, staying somewhat dry, checking the radar. The thought of calling the police and seeing if they'd be willing to give me a ride back to my dorm crossed my mind, but given the record law enforcement has with people that aren't white, that thought was quickly abandoned. Staring at the storm, and deeply uncomfortable in the booming, crackling thunder, I called Curly a couple of times, hoping but not really expecting that she'd pick up and give me a ride.
Eventually, though, I kind of just sucked it up and walked the kilometer or so back to my dorm when the storm's intensity decreased a bit, hooking and clipping as many things to my backpack as possible so that my hands were free. A highlight of the walk back was sharing a quiet moment with a cold and tired honeybee that I found while taking momentary shelter under the library. She walked onto my hands without much coaxing, likely grateful for the warmth of my flesh. I felt bad for being unable to help her more; I didn't have any sugary liquids on hand to feed her, and I didn't have a safe way to carry her back with me to my dorm. Having to leave her on the cold brick wall in order to continue on my way pained me; I may not be fond of honeybees from an academic/research standpoint, but I have a soft spot in my heart for all bees, maybe even softer than my spot for cats.
The only parts of me that got wet were my feet, because there were too many large puddles on the way back to not get completely waterlogged shoes. I think that a good (and bad) thing about growing up in Chicago is that weather does not scare me - I'll probably be killed one day because there was a tornado watch and I decided to walk/bike home anyway.
Once I made it back to my room, I had the great idea to do laundry, or attempt to do laundry, rather than just go straight to sleep. Mind you, I made it back to my dorm around 5:30, 5:45, and I had plans for brunch at 10. Starting laundry was my first mistake. My second mistake was going to sleep during the hour-long dry cycle, setting alarms to wake up in time to get my clothes out. Well, my sleep-deprived body had other plans, and I ended up not waking up until 10:47, almost three hours after when I wanted to be up, missing brunch with Favorite Person and her parents.
After spending several hours berating myself about missing an opportunity to be social, I eventually made it down to the dining hall for breakfast. I noted an increase in my heart rate as I thought about eating, and my piling food onto my plate was accompanied by thoughts along the lines of I'm only allowed to have X amount of Y food. I recognize that that's not a really healthy way to go about eating, but...it was that, or guilt for overeating.
Following breakfast, I took a leisurely walk to the Japanese garden, feeling extremely self-conscious about my body as I made my way over. With temperatures in the high 70s and humidity around 100%, I'd decided to wear just a tee and shorts, revealing more skin than I normally do. Even though I was, on a conscious level, aware that no one would be scrutinizing my skin too closely, I was nervous about not having my self-harm scars fully covered. Today was the first day since last summer that they weren't hidden under layers of fabric.
At the Japanese garden, I entertained myself by watching and swatting the large carpenter bees nesting in the seating area, feeding the piggish koi, and harassing every toad I could catch. With one, I had a grand time squeezing its parotoid glands, making the toxic secretions ooze out. It felt like popping a really gnarly, really gross whitehead, and it was super satisfying in a very disgusting way. I don't think that the toad appreciated my glee, as indicated by the annoyed peeping and perpetual I will fight you expression, but that's fine. Most animals aren't too happy with me catching and holding them.
Though it was far warmer than I would have liked, chasing critters around the pond was a lot of fun, and got me out of my head for a while.
Being the weirdo that I am, I took a toad with me when I left the garden to do work in the student center basement, where I stayed until 7pm or so. When I reemerged, it was again raining, but I was less bothered the second time around. Slipping off my flip-flops, I walked back barefoot, splashing in puddles and enjoying the cool water over my feet. Oh, I let Sir Toad go as well - I didn't intend to make him my pet.
Nothing else of note happened the rest of the day. I worked, I read, I asked Curly to bring me food and she did. The reflexive first thought after she brought me noms was I don't deserve friends like her, and that is something frustrating. Having to counter my own thoughts is a major energy sink for me, and there's no real way to get around it.
I don't have anywhere to be tomorrow, so I think that I'll rub one or two out and then sleep until hopefully no earlier than noon.
Until then.
I wish we could open our eyes
To see in all directions at the same time
Oh, what a beautiful view
If you were never aware of what was around you
30 Apr 2017
Postscript - I've been thinking about adding pictures to entries, but I don't know. I kind of like this text-only format. Do any of you readers have an opinion one way or another?
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