-I broached the subject of studying abroad in Australia with my mom today while we were walking Sadie around the neighborhood. She didn't respond with, "Sure! Go for it!" but she didn't shoot me down either. So that's good. Studying abroad is stupid expensive but I can't stop thinking about it.
-I sent out about 7,000 e-mails in the past two days. I e-mailed people about potential jobs, internships, volunteer opportunities and joining organizations. I really want to make some money (maybe to put toward studying abroad). And I really want to do some crazy shit for some reason. So I e-mailed the President of OSU's Mountaineering Club and I'm going to a meeting tomorrow at 8. Lately, I've also had a renewed desire to be a journalist. But I want to only interview people and tell their life stories. Every week, I spend so much time getting to know my patients in the hospital--basically interviewing them--and while I was in Belize, I met this amazing 78-some-year-old woman named Gertrude who I could've written a War and Peace sized book about. I want to write again, or something. I don't know how to organize and control my spontaneous impulses lately; I want to rock climb in Utah, learn how to Tango or Salsa dance, study abroad in Australia, write about people and sing a solo in front of an audience. Why not?
-Last night I hung out with three girls from my childhood. From 9 PM until 2:30 AM, we didn't stop talking. They were my best friends growing up and to see all of us together and grown now is still remarkable to me sometimes when I think about it. Although we lost almost all contact during high school, due in part to different schools and different grade levels and what not, I feel as if I can turn to them now more so than I can turn to people I considered my best friends in high school. It's so strange how that can happen.
-I didn't feel like writing about my wallet being stolen in Belize while I was volunteering. It wasn't robbed off of my person, thankfully, but it was taken from my bookbag when I wasn't around. I didn't get worked up about the incident when it happened in Belize because it just is what it is. All of its contents were replaceable. Shit happens. Well, tonight, I recieved a phone call from a woman who put me on the phone with her son in Belize. Her son then told me that he had found my wallet in Belize on the ground and he said some other things that I couldn't really understand through his thick accent. But this man told me that he had found my wallet but he had not returned it earlier because he had been shot. I told him I was sorry to hear that. He asked how he could get it back to me and I told him to send it to the address on my driver's license. Shortly after he told me he'd love to return it back to me, the phone call got cut off. I guess I'll be seeing my long lost wallet again. Thanks, dude.
-I will be back on the Medtronic MiniMed insulin pump a week from tomorrow. It's been three-ish years since I've been hooked up to an insulin pump. Yesterday Mom and I went online shopping for "pump accessories" aka things that will help secure and hide my insulin pump from sight. One of my issues with the insulin pump when I was last on it was that I had no secure place to put the damn thing when I was wearing a dress. You can put it in a pocket easy. But a dress? So I bought this spandex elastic thing that goes around the thigh (like a garter) and you can put the pump in it. And voila, the pump disappears and I can wear my cute spring dresses. I also bought a sports bra that has a special pouch for an insulin pump while I'm running. That was annoying too, when the pump was bobbing around in my pocket or the pump holster was banging against my hip during a run. All the shopping made me more excited to get back on the pump...and hopefully, I'll stick with it this time. Panc is back. Oh and did I mention yet that my Hemoglobin a1c was 7.2 at my last doctor's appointment? In diabetic lingo, that's fucking awesome.
-Tonight I'm being really wordy for some reason. My dad would be really annoyed; "You're using too many unnecessary words, Emily," he'd say, "you can cut this and this and this out." Speaking of Dad, tomorrow is his 61st birthday. I'm driving him 61 miles from Cincinnati tomorrow so he can ride his bike back and then I'm keeping the car up at school for the week. Happy Birthday, Papa.
Two more for the pile
2 years ago