Rule Number 27

Rule number 27: Never knowingly be serious.

How have I been doing since the last semester or so? Absolutely crazy. Like, about to cry because of every song I’m listening to one evening, so excited I need to do push-ups to expend energy another. I’ve never felt more emotionally up and down in my life, and at least for the moment I think it’s actually a good thing. I think that probably seems weird, but it’s 100% true. I’m growing and I can feel it. (Like a t-rex!)

In the last two weeks I’ve started a gym regiment which I’ve actually stuck to, have gone cross-country skiing for the first successful time in my life (there were forced attempts in highschool, but we won’t go there), and climbed a particularly difficult part of the rock climbing wall in the SRC. I bought a hiking backpack for my trip to the UK (I’m going to the fucking UK!) and then I bought a few plane tickets. I’m preparing to go to a totally paid for conference in Anchorage to talk about making theory into practice (specifically multilingualism). My roommate Lauren, myself, and our mutual friend Sophie will be going to a rented cabin for three days over spring break to cross-country ski some more, and knit. Oh, and I’ve started knitting. Which has been very rewarding. It’s all been hugely rewarding, just setting out goals and actually accomplishing them. It is such a simple thing and yet it’s so scary. Any kind of failure can feel huge at first, and derailing. Which might explain the rollercoaster that has been me.

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Something I found funny, which I don’t want to forget:

Lauren told an amazing story about shooting a parrot in the heart with a blowgun the very first (and last) time she ever shot a blowgun. Don’t worry, she let us know afterward that it was a wooden parrot.

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Cross country skiing was good and bad. I enjoyed doing it, but didn’t dress warmly enough so my fingers went numb a few times. The instructor was kind enough to loan me her jacket, and then her gloves, and then a hat and switch me buff and everything. So basically I stole all of the ski instructors clothes. I felt very bad about this and a bit embarrassed. But I own shitty gloves and a jacket that’s too long and excuses excuses. I don’t like to complain very much, but I also didn’t want to lose fingers. What I was also avoiding complaining about were the blisters I could feel forming on my heels. I asked about when we’d be getting back and discovered we had another hour and a half to our journey. So, I soldiered on in borrowed clothes, skiing without poles in an attempt to improve the circulation in my hands. We made it back to the Outdoor Activities office and I removed the borrowed boots, discovering blood on the heels of both my socks. Quite a large patch of blood on both. I had skied straight from blister to open wound. It was gross. Check it out:

After 1 day, Right foot

After 1 day, Left foot

Both ski instructors set about cleaning up my heels with alcohol wipes and applying something amazing called moleskin, which is an adhesive to help prevent friction. It was amazing except when MK (one of our ski instructors, very friendly) realized she had the wrong sized piece and wanted to remove it in order to put a bigger piece on. Peeling adhesive off of a fresh wound is unpleasant under any circumstance.

This whole experience led me to discover that Neosporin is actually magical and both of my heels look loads better after only three days of using it (bought it mid week, went skiing exactly a week ago). This could be like some kind of small commercial for Neosporin, but no one reads my blog.

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I was kissed on Valentine’s day, which was actually my very first Valentine’s day kiss ever, and I’m thinking I’m being pursued somewhat which is a very nice feeling because I like being pursued, as most people do. I’m playing it kind of slow because this time in my life is about working on me, and I can’t give myself to anyone if I’m unhappy with myself. What I really want is a totally uninhibited, growing relationship that will give both of us (whoever the other may be) the time and space we need for reaching up, and the close comfort we need as an anchor.

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I’ve been thinking about all of these things lately, and trying to locate where I find my self-worth so that I can concentrate on those things and really feel good about myself. Exercising has been helping, as well as putting an honest effort into my work. I’m going to spend more time reading and knitting this evening, and perhaps finally try to write a crown of sonnets. Talking about a thing too much kills the thing you’re talking about doing, especially if you haven’t started. This is true for me, at the very least.

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Sometimes I’m impatient and I want to see the return on my work immediately. I’ve been really (by really I mean consistently going and putting an effort in) working out for about ten whole days but I already want to be at my top level of physical performance. I know this is silly so I’ve set small goals for myself instead. Yesterday I ran two full miles in 24 minutes (5mph) without stopping. This is by no means earth shattering, but it feels good for me. And as someone (who is pursuing me) said, “Don’t let my winning day make your winning day feel any less important. If you feel like you’ve had a winning day, then you have.”