Emerald City: Pink Leotards

It's fun having a title that doesn't mean anything in relation to what I have to say.

Yes, I realize that it's been almost a week since I last posted. I started class on Monday. There's your explanation. Don't be mad.

So, this has been a crazy week. Not only did classes start, but Bonnie's sister was in town from Ohio and I was kind of the designated (yet uninformed) tour guide while B was at work. A bit stressful by the end of the week. I also have been spending money like a bad ass. I tend to experience a lot of guilt around purchasing things because in many cases, I don't really NEED anything (besides books and an education). My splurges now tend to be on food - exotic grocery store cheeses, going out to eat, a salad at the HUB (the Student Union) every now and then. It's really pathetic. For my birthday, my present to myself (I get a really great one from me every year) will be an expensive dinner at a fondue restaurant called The Melting Pot (among other things...I always use this time of year as an excuse to buy things for myself that I wouldn't normally buy just because it's the awesomest day ever). I'm expecting dinner and drinks to be on the up and ups of $60. But...this brings me right back to not spending money because I just read about this new book called: Not Buying It: My Year Without Shopping by Judith Levine. I really want to read it and then do it. I think it would provide my life with more meaning (and maybe less guilt). This woman and her husband lived a whole year without purchasing unnecessary items (which were established between them at the commencement). They saved over $8,000! (Though this was not the initial intention of the project.) I wonder how that would play out in my life. Taking out all the luxuries and unnecessary goods for one year. Something to think about, I guess.

I just purchased a $100 backpack (more like a damn daypack and I'm just going to class every day - not on a hike!) and six ink cartridges for my printer (we have to print so much stuff) and I've been out to eat a lot this month and my MP3 player just broke (I can't LIVE without it) and I have to get new ballet shoes and I just stocked up at Costco (similar to Sam's, but way cooler) and I just bought over $200 worth of books and rent is costing me my life and I even HAVE to go shoe shopping next weekend in Pullman (the east side of Washington state) with Colleen for Mom's weekend at Washington State University (where two of her children attend college). Phew. Guilt will not be subsiding any time soon.

I think I'm starting to sound like I live on the West Coast. I don't talk as much like a midwestern anymore. It's not good or bad, I'm just saying...it's weird. My a's and o's are totally different. Oh, AND Kacey (my friend from Wisconsin whom I love) told me that one of her friends thinks I look extremely "exotic." WHAT?! Seriously, this is weird. Do I really look that different? I certainly think I look like a little white mutt. Mom, we need to get to the bottom of my roots (I'm, like, NINE THINGS). I need to have my heritage DOWN so when someone asks if I'm African American (hey, it's happened), I can tell them where my "olivey" skin comes from.

Speaking of MOM, I just need to tell you all that she happened to fix me up (nonverbal: me shaking my head and rolling my eyes because it sounds so ridiculous) while in Orlando, Florida. Kindly keep in mind that I am from WISCONSIN and I live in WASHINGTON STATE. She calls me yesterday; here is the conversation:

Mom: "Kelly, I really want to set you up with this really cute boy who works behind the scenes at Disney! He's really cute and I took a picture of him and I'm going to send him cheese curds and I gave him your blog address and your email address and I can't wait for you to see what he looks like!" (For those of you who know my mom, you can probably literally imagine her breathlessly saying this to me on the phone.)

Me: "Mom, I live in Seattle."

Mom: "OH, but he's from Louisiana!"

Me: "Mom, I live in Seattle. And I'm from Wisconsin."

Mom: "But he's SO cute and he's tall (I took a picture with him so you could see how tall he is) and he's so nice and he really wants cheese curds!"

The conversation finished up with me praising her about remembering that I like tall guys. Good job, Mom. But, I thought you wanted me to hook up with someone from the midwest?! You can't change your tune now!

Side note: Boy from Florida (I know your name, but I want to keep you anonymous for your protection), if you are reading this right now I want to apologize for two things. One: this post. You may be the laughing stock of my friends and family for a few hours. In a good way. Two: my mom. She's great, yes. A bit crazy, yes. Any shame, NOPE. And I happen to be a lot like her. I look forward to hearing from you if you're brave. ;)

Unfortunately, I'm still in anti-boy mode. It's just too much damn work nowadays. And it's interesting to see the differences in responses from the male population depending on what I wear and how much makeup I have on. (Though this may be the result of an increase in confidence on my part...) I just don't feel like trying anymore. I don't want some dude's opinion of me to be based on my looks. How shallow. I'm hot. I like me. What more do you want? (Okay, so here's where I admit my own tendency to scope out the hottest guy in the room/bar/class and go for him. Yet, I must remind you that my own shallowness disappears when I interact with someone. Being in psych, I know the value of physical attractiveness insofar as impression management goes - aka first impressions - but being hot can only get one so far in life.) This brings me to my next point: YESTERDAY. I happened to be wearing an extremely low cut shirt with a huge necklace. Any chauvinist person (notice I did not assume a chavinist would be a man...some women are just as chauvinist without even realizing it) would immediately think I wanted people (especially men) to look at my chest. Not true. I wear clothes, jewelry, shoes because I like them. BUT I GUESS THIS OUTFIT WAS AN INVITATION TO NOT ONLY LOOK AT MY CHEST, BUT TO RUDELY COMMENT ON MY APPEARANCE (as so many men did yesterday). This is when I get frustrated being a woman. This is when I feel extremely prayed upon. This is when I think about how men have all this freedom to do whatever the hell they want (i.e., wear whatever clothes they want without having to endure comments or assumptions that they are wearing certain items because they want sex or STARES or COMMENTS, walk outside alone when it's dark outside, etc.), but women don't. I am on a rampage, people. I am so sick of having to stay dependent on others for the sake of my safety (getting rides home because it's too "dangerous" to walk, etc.). All of this directly related to the biological fact that I am a woman. I have to stop now because I might ooze with anger for the rest of the day if I don't cease to discuss this which makes me CRAZY MAD. (No offense to any of the men reading this. I am not attacking you in any way, I am just stating the factual information here. Women are in more danger of being hurt because they are women than men are because they are men.)

So, onto more happy, fun discussion. The following pics are of the Japanese cherry blossom trees in the quad (a place on the UW campus). Apparently, people come from miles around to see these trees in bloom and it only happens for about one week each year. It's really beautiful. See for yourself...