Crammed Sunday for a Grad Student

I may have next to zilch of a social life, but somehow I still manage to have absolutely too much crammed into my weekends. Take today for example. I did laundry, washed the dishes, gave Jasper a bath (which he sorely needed), groomed Jasper, did a homemade avocado treatment on my hair (which I do not recommend since it is very hard to wash out), made soup, worked on a fiction story, and wrote a paper comparing the Russo-Japanese War to the Franco-Prussian War (they are surprisingly similar). I also read a copious amount, put together a puzzle over breakfast, and still found time to re-ice my hand after all the typing caused it to swell up yet again. Oh, and I took out the trash. I am Superwoman!

Of course, I also did not accomplish everything that I had planned today. I still have three more books to read (minimum) by Tuesday, another paper to write (also by Tuesday), notes to type up for my presentation tomorrow, and another batch of laundry. I haven't dusted in a week, but that's low priority. I also meant to work out today, but that is lower priority than reading and writing. Admittedly, I shouldn't have wasted an hour on a puzzle, but I so longed for some form of recreation after reading for nearly ten hours yesterday, that I simply couldn't deny myself an hour of relaxation. Tomorrow will be a busy day, too, since the reading and writing will have to get squeezed in around two grad classes (three hours each), a trip to the library, and a trip to the office supply store.

I've noticed lately that my caffeine intake has sharply risen since resuming grad school. Maybe if I double it, I can give up sleep and have another eight hours of time for reading (just kidding, Mom). Honestly, I never knew so much could be crammed into each day before this semester. Gee, I just can't wait until I start writing my thesis!

My Dog Knows How to Relax

Can I Marry Technology? Please?

Yes, I know I said earlier that I would not be posting anything but pictures today. That was before I spent two hours buried up to my neck in documents. I need some air for a few minutes!

I am hopelessly, desperately, head-over-heels in love with technology. Perhaps this is odd behavior for a history major, particularly one who prefers records to CDs, but that's just part of my contradictory and quirky charm, I suppose.

Consider the different items currently bringing joy to my life:

"Mackie" (my Macbook) - By far the best computer I have ever owned, Mackie has never shut down unexpectedly, never crashed, never deleted anything I didn't want deleted, never caught a virus . . . in short, Mackie has never done anything that the PCs I owned in the past did. Mackie downloads at the speed of light, checks my spelling and grammar on every program that I use, and lets me open as many windows as I want without slowing down. Mackie is my cherished friend, who would never do anything to inconvenience, hurt, or annoy me. Mackie is trustworthy.

Firefox and Safari - Two fabulous web browsers, each with their own special place in my heart. Safari is fast, so user-friendly that it practically kisses you when you open it, and fully customizable. My Safari browser knows my every like and dislike, protects me from ads, and gives me full details every time that I download something. My Firefox browser has awesome add-ons, is also fully customizable, gladly remembers passwords for me, and cheerfully assists me with research. Like Safari, Firefox knows how much ads annoy me, so it gleefully blocks them all!

Zotero - A wonderful-beyond-wonderful add-on for Firefox, Zotero organizes sources quickly and does my citations for me now, allowing me the luxury of putting far less effort into writing citations.

Pandora - At first I resisted, but after so many of my friends recommended it, I had to join. Pandora custom designs personal radio stations for me, based on only the style of music that I like - even analyzing elements of my preferred styles of music in order to offer me songs and artists that I have not yet heard. And best of all, Pandora does it all for free!

ebrary - My days of haggling for inter-library loans and bemoaning the paucity of sources at Liberty's library are now over at last! ebrary (it's supposed to be all in lowercase, for those who may gleefully believe that they have caught me in an error) has thousands upon millions of sources available online, full-text. I can read entire books on it! It's like netlibrary, a former love of mine, on steroids!

Book Hunter - This is an app that I downloaded for Mackie from the Apple site. It allows me to catalog all of my books, including library books, in an organized, easy-to-search format. If I give it nothing but a title, it finds all the publication info on each book, plus a photo of the cover. I can insert a location for each book, so now finding any one of my books is a piece of cake.

Some things, like movies and music, reached their golden age many years ago; and the older versions are nearly always better than the new. For the computer and all these deliciously delightful apps and add-ons; conversely, the best is yet to come! I can't wait to see what research tools will be at my disposal in ten years. These gifts come with a caution - we must not allow technology to make us stupider. Too much dependence on a good thing, like spellcheck, can result in lazier, stupider people. For example, texting and IMing are killing the writing skills of young people today.

So, we must use these technological gifts wisely. While I adore the new research tools and options, I am careful not to completely abandon the old ways. While I let Zotero help me out with citations, I do so with a complete knowledge of how to do Turabian formatting. If zotero (Heaven forbid!) ever made a citation error, I would be able to recognize and correct it. If I lost all these blessings of modern technology (you know, like in the event of China wiping out American computers with a massive virus), I would still be able to function quite well. I would be despondent, but I could still get by adequately.

Time to get back to work - researching on ebrary, using Firefox, with Pandora serenading me in the background and Safari running a simultaneous search on Google Scholar. Who needs a man when they have technology?! (That was a joke, people. Put down the pitchforks!)

Sunset over Lynchburg

We had a stunningly vibrant sunset last night, so I ran to grab the camera after taking Jasper out for his "evening constitutional." Sorry to disappoint anyone who was hoping to read more today - this is all you get. Two posts of pictures, and not much else! Today is dedicated to research, research, and more research. I'm trying to find out more about SOE (Britain's Special Operations Executive) in the low countries (Belgium, Luxembourg, and the Netherlands) and the Balkans. So far, I'm not having a whole lot of luck, since the vast majority of sources focus on SOE's work in France. Well, back to the grindstone!

Hand Pictures for Mom and Dad

If you're sick of hearing about my hand, don't bother to look at this post. I just wanted to post a few pictures for my parents, since they live twelve hours away and haven't seen what my hand looks like. Being parents, they've been curious.

Yesterday I iced my hand for about two hours, and I noticed today that the bump is now slightly smaller and the colors are a little less vibrant than they were. I'll ice it more today and see if there's any further improvement. The first photo is closer to how the colors actually look; in the second, the flash paled them a bit, but the bump is a bit more visible.

Good News for a Change

The doctor called a little while ago with the results from the x-rays and, thank goodness, my hand is not broken after all. I apparently have a large blood clot pressing down on nerves and veins. The doctor's office said that I am to keep my hand splinted for another two to three weeks, and they want me to consider physical therapy. Physical therapy is too expensive, so I'm just going to go the cheap route and pick up a stress ball.

In other good news, my ROTC lab got cancelled today and the neighbors' dog either passed out from lack of air or died, so now I have more time to get reading done, and peace in which to do it. Time to brew some tea and get to work!

Some Animals Do Not Deserve to Live

Normally, I truly love animals. I adore dogs especially, particularly my quirky boy, my parents' two princesses, and sister's little diva. I enjoy watching birds flit about from tree to tree. I think squirrels and chipmunks are amusing. I chuckle whenever I see beavers or badgers (long story). I even like cats, despite being miserably allergic to them. There are, in short, very few animals that I do not like. On the short list of my despised animals, rabbits, insects, jellyfish (and their Portuguese cousins), gibbons, and my new neighbors' dog are the only ones that come to mind. That afore-mentioned dog is currently at the top of the list.

This defective, evil creature (perhaps spawned by Satan himself) has been the bane of my existence today. I slept poorly owing to my hand, which seemed to hurt more than usual after both the hour of swimming and the visit to the doctor yesterday. So, I did not at all appreciate it when the spazoid creature from you-know-where starting barking NONSTOP (without even pausing to breathe) from 6:00 in the morning until I left at 8:20 for my x-ray appointment. When I got back, the dog was still barking, and even Jasper was clearly growing tired of it. The miserable beast has barked and whined steadily ever since. We're talking three straight hours of barking, with only intermittent, blessed pauses. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get any reading or writing done with that cacophony of noise going on?! I am strongly considering writing a note to the owners and posting it on their door. Honestly, it would bless me immeasurably if God would strike this cursed creature dead right now. Considering how much I normally love dogs, you know this is one abnormal, annoying, horrendous little brute.

The Dilemma of the Hand

Today, after much coaxing from my mother and two of my medic friends, I went to the clinic at Liberty to have my hand looked at. Admittedly, I was growing concerned - my pinky still keeps going numb if I take the splint off, the hand is still swollen, the pain is still intense, and my hand is still various shades of blue and purple with pale fingers. When the nurse responded to the sight of my hand with a concerned/surprised "Oh," I became a bit more concerned. When the doctor had the exact same response, I knew nothing good was coming.

The general opinion of the learned medical community thus far is that the hand is most likely broken. I had figured that since my fingers still move correctly, everything was pretty much okay, but that does not seem to be the case. I'm going in for an x-ray tomorrow to find out for certain whether or not this is a break. If it is . . . I'm not letting myself think about that option, actually. I think I have enough things to fret about without sticking something scary like that on my "worry platter."

In happier news, I at least found a form of exercise that doesn't cause intense, eye-watering pain. For PT today, I was allowed to swim for the hour. The water felt quite good for my ankle, and only a little painful for my hand. So, I think I'm going to start swimming each day to try to get back on track for weight loss and getting into the correct physical shape. Hopefully, it will be enough.

For those who were wondering, yes, I am still doing the 5k on Saturday. I will be walking the course, however, instead of running it. The ankle is much better, but still not good enough to run long distances.

A Shift in Thinking and Behavior

I realized today just how differently graduate students think and behave compared with undergraduates and schoolchildren. I found the differences both interesting and amusing. Here are just a few differences that I noted:

1. Reaction to delays and cancellations. Schoolchildren and undergraduates generally respond to snow days or two-hour delays in the same fashion: "Hurray! No school!" They whoop, they cheer, and then they have a marvelous, often lazy day. Graduate students (the majority of them) respond to this situation in this way: "NO NO NO!!!!! Don't you DARE cancel school after all those sleepless nights I spent reading all these books and writing this paper! I WILL present this material today!" Snow days are not bright beacons of happiness to graduate students; rather, they are an insult heaped upon the injury of hours upon hours of research. Rather than celebrate, the typical grad student responds to cancellations and delays by using the time to read more, or to rewrite their latest paper again.

2. Relationship with sleep. Undergraduates sleep through classes, sleep in and skip classes, and sleep rather than study (okay, most seniors don't, but the majority of the underclassmen do). Schoolchildren, likewise, value sleep over study. To a graduate student, sleep (and, in fact, most bodily functions), is more like taking time get an oil change - it's a hindrance that must occasionally be given in to, but it gets put off as much as possible. There are various maxims that the other grad students and I gaily toss about: "Sleep is for sissies!" "You can sleep when you die!" "Read more, sleep less." As a result, the undergraduates are a well-rested, laughing bunch with a desire for parties and socialization, whereas we grads are a bunch of gaunt, pale creatures with bags under our eyes who go about discussing authors and experts as though they were our significant others.

3. Relationship with research. Undergraduates and schoolchildren use encyclopedias, dictionaries, and (shudder) Wikipedia, and consider that to be sufficient research. Occasionally they may visit a library and use a few books (some may even use a sizable stack of books). Not so with graduates! We occasionally darken the door of a library, but usually only to pick up our inter-library loans (books we have asked much bigger libraries to send to our nearest library for our use). Generally, we are hunkered down in front of computers, devouring as much as we can from our primary sources of nourishment: JSTOR, ProQuest, ebrary, Google Scholar, Netlibrary . . . dictionaries and encyclopedias are but a fond memory. If we're not hunkered in front of a computer, we're sneezing in dusty archives, reading primary sources that most people don't even know exist. We deal with sources that must be translated, tracking down out-of-print books, and trying to decipher rare manuscripts.

I write this not to make schoolchildren or undergraduates look bad, but to highlight the difference in thinking and behavior that happens to a person once they reach the higher echelons of education. Also, it is a good explanation for why schoolchildren and undergraduates are so much better looking and healthier than graduate students - they live to live, we live to research. Sometimes I miss the good ole days!

The Latest Quirks of Jasper

Jasper has attained a few new quirks since we moved back to Virginia. For one thing, he absolutely loves my aloe lotion. Any time I put it on my feet or legs, Jasper spends the next ten minutes thoroughly licking it off. Occasionally he stares longingly at the bottle, whimpering piteously until I put a little on. The funny thing is, he never touches the bottle - he just wants to lick the lotion off of me!

Another recent fetish of Jasper is his current mania for dryer sheets. He steals them out of the laundry basket or the dryer, carries them around, then rolls on them for long periods of time. Tonight he is lavender-scented and completely static-free, as he just finished rolling over two dryer sheets for about twenty minutes. I did a little checking just to be safe, and learned that both the lotion and the dryer sheets are completely harmless, so Jasper can continue to enjoy both to his heart's content.

Jasper's love of small, confined spaces has grown stronger recently. He now uses both side tables in my living room as "caves," in which he likes to hide both himself and some of his favorite toys and bones. Of course, the recliner is still the favored "bone yard," but now we have supplemental "bone yards" under the tables (apparently, one was not enough). Jasper has finally decided that I am trustworthy, so he no longer panics and retrieves his bones when I use the recliner; instead, he prefers to take naps underneath it while I'm sitting in it. Twice yesterday, I trapped Jasper underneath the chair without realizing it, and did not learn of my mistake either time until I heard scratching coming from under the chair. He was completely unhurt. Today Jasper yearned for something different, so he stole one of my throw blankets, carried it up to the recliner, and then made himself a nest in the seat of it. It was rather amusing to watch.

Jasper also has a new nighttime activity. Rather than crawl straight into his bed like he used to, he now prefers to spend half of the night under my bed, where, I learned today, he has a hidden stash of about half a dozen used dryer sheets. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if this quirky little creature is really a dog!

Nothing Says "I Love You" Like an LSD-Addicted Frog

Walking through my local Kroger during a grocery run yesterday evening, two things struck me: 1. The nausea quotient of Valentine's Day, which I had thought already reached the top, has discovered new heights this year, and 2. Judging by some of the gifts being sold, people seem to express their love in exceedingly odd ways these days.

First, I should explain why I, a sane single woman, was even walking down the valentine aisle in the first place. I have a ROTC girls' party coming up in just over a week, which involves a "white elephant" gift exchange. I thought something in the way of chocolate might make a good gift to give, so I meandered over to the aisle which would be most likely to have the most options. Unfortunately, after that brief tour of "The Aisle of Love," I was too revolted to make any purchases from that aisle. I think I'll buy the gift after this pink and red holiday passes (goodness, even the colors they use for that day are sickening when put together).

Now onto what I saw. Apparently, this year, you can now express your undying love for that special someone with these unique (and tasteless) gifts:

1. A blue bug-eyed frog with a stupefied, almost soporific expression on its face, and its little tongue hanging out, apparently from the effects of some hypnotic drug. In his arms, he dazedly cradles a heart that bears the plaintive request "kiss me" (sorry bud, you're just not my type). If you squeeze this little fellow's arm, he starts playing a very loud rap song, encumbered with poor grammar and words which, contrary to current popular belief, do not actually exist in the English language.

2. A very creepy monkey with an almost sadistic expression on his face, who clutches a heart with the ominous phrase "You're Mine" written on it in bold letters. Ah, finally, the perfect gift for the girl who issued the restraining order against you last week!

3. A ginormous, sugar and chemical-laden, hypnotically-colorful lollipop in the shape of a rare flower never seen in nature. Nothing says "I love you" like carcinogens and diabetic coma!

4. The world's ugliest headband. I thought at first it was meant for a child, but upon closer (shudder!) examination, I discovered it to be too large for a child's head (unless, of course, your child is that huge baby The Enquirer likes to put on their front cover whenever they run out of new rumors to start). This hideous creation featured a HUGE gaudy red sequined heart coming off the side of it. In the first place, as I already mentioned, it is beyond ugly. In the second place, I'm scared of the traffic accidents that could result from drivers distracted by the huge heart coming out of some woman's head.

There were many other valentine atrocities that I saw in that aisle; thankfully, I have miraculously blocked them out of my mind, and thus will no longer be tormented by the memory of any of them.

Honestly, folks, I have nothing against the principle of Valentine's Day. A day of tangibly demonstrating your love for someone is certainly a great concept. Of course, I believe that if you truly love someone, you shouldn't need a holiday to demonstrate your love (you should be doing it every day), but that's another matter. In principle, Valentine's Day is wonderful. In practice, however . . . ick. Whatever happened to just writing someone a letter, extolling the reasons why you love them? A person can read your words a hundred times, and be reminded each time of your love. Or, if you absolutely must express your feelings through the practice of spending money, why not give a gift that truly reflects the person you love, rather than giving them some cheap stuffed creature that is just going to wind up being sold at a future garage sale (although, stuffed animals are very easy to burn in the instance of a break-up, and are often a great anger-releaser for the bitter, newly-single girl). Yes, it's the thought that counts. That said, if the thought results in a tasteless, bug-eyed frog that raps, do you really want that thought to count?

Stephanie in Uniform

Let it not be said that Stephanie ignores requests. Several people have been bugging me to post pictures of myself in uniform, so here you go. It's too bad you can't see my awesome bun; I finally figured out how to do them properly with my disobedient mass of hair (it's a time-consuming process involving patience, coconut oil, about a hundred bobby pins, and at least two muttered "blast you"s). While my uniform is far from flattering, it is very comfortable, for which I am duly grateful. Normally the cap is not worn inside a building, but I knew people wanted shots of the whole "get-up". My favorite part of the uniform is all the pockets; I would feel rather silly carrying a purse while dressed in this particular uniform, so the pockets are a godsend. The left-hand splint (not pictured), of course, is not a normal feature of the US Army uniform, however, with my luck, it may wind up being a normal feature of the Stephanie US Army uniform.




In case you were wondering why no recipe or photos were posted of yesterday's muffin experiment, the lack thereof is deliberate, not an oversight. The "apple bran biscuits," as I nicknamed the outcome of the experiment, tasted okay but had an unpleasant texture. Part of the problem was the lack of brown sugar, since even the Splenda version involves actual sugar; another problem was the fact that I had to use a dough hook on my mixer to mix the creation, since my appropriate attachment had to be thrown away owing to peeling and old age. The third, and biggest problem, was the difficulty in baking with one hand injured - I found peeling apples, in particular, to be exceptionally painful. I'll have to try that idea again later, when I have the proper equipment and two good hands.

And the Rain, Rain, Rain Came Down, Down, Down . . .

And it cancelled PT again! Thanks to the freezing rain last night, Liberty had a two-hour delay yet again (this makes two days in a row), so PT was cancelled. Considering the shape I'm still in, I was rather relieved to not have to get up at 0445 and work out at LU at 0550. Obviously those in charge are planning to go easy on me for awhile, but even so, I was worried about working out again so soon, and puzzled as to what on earth I would even be able to do! Since I don't want to undo all the good work I was accomplishing from my workouts before my injury, I am going to start doing some low-key stuff on my Wii Fit today, and then start using the pool either tomorrow or Friday (thank you, Liberty, for building that lovely state-of-the-art workout facility).

The hand is looking a little better today. After being iced all day yesterday, some of the swelling has gone down (although it is still a bit swollen) and I have feeling back in my fingers. My thumb still gets periods of numbness, but not as much as yesterday. Obviously, the pain is still pretty bad. Last night I got the second migraine of 2010 (the first came on Sunday), so I had to dope up a bit on migraine meds, which meant that I slept really well for a change - actually, I slept a little too well. I woke up at 1200! I guess my body needed it, but it sure was strange to look at the clock and realize that that much valuable reading time was gone.

I had another terrific find at the store on Monday (the infamous Walmart trip where the woman slammed into my hand), which simply must be shared. As my readers all know, I am diligently sticking to this sugar-free lifestyle, which is not without its share of challenges. On Monday afternoon, I am sorry to say, I made the decision to break free for a moment and indulge in a small bag of peanut M&Ms. As I replied when Dr. Saxon, who knows of my sugar-free ways, questioned this choice: "To heck with health; I've had a horrible day and I want chocolate!" The little indulgence made me feel a little better, so I think it was worth it (just that once). When I went to Walmart that night, I still really wanted something sweet. To be specific, I desperately longed for one of my favorite comfort foods, banana pudding. Now there are two problems with that craving: 1. I cannot have bananas because they are too high on the glycemic index, and 2. The vanilla wafers used in banana pudding contain a great deal of sugar. I knew that I had a box of sugar-free banana pudding mix at home, but without the bananas and vanilla wafers, it just wouldn't seem right. Saddened, I walked through the cookie aisle, pausing to gaze wistfully at the vanilla wafers, sitting there taunting me with their unattainable deliciousness . . . when "what to my wondering eyes should appear" but a box of sugar-free vanilla wafers! Kudos to Murray brand for making life a little sweeter for us sugarless folk! I also discovered, to my surprise, that shredded coconut is not as laden with sugar as I had supposed, so I can have some in moderation. Thus fortified, I went home and made my pudding. It was banana-less, but still very delicious since it still had the other key components.

Today seems the perfect day for another experiment in the kitchen. I have a deep fondness for muffins, which I have been unable to have since there is a paucity of healthy muffin recipes that fit my rigid dietary standards. So, I have resolved to create my own whole-wheat, sugar-free apple bran muffin recipe. We shall see how it goes. If the muffins come out well, I will post pictures and a recipe. If not . . . well, there's always Jasper, my furry garbage disposal. I'm sure he'll gratefully make use of any flops!

Need a Hand?

My hand began to concern me a bit yesterday, as it resumed swelling after two hours of being iced and turned purple around the knuckles. Also, my thumb went numb. Worried, but uninsured, I called my sister for advice (she's a nurse) and she told me that I needed to get a splint for my hand and refrain from using it. This was easier said than done.

My problem was that my car was still buried, and I was down to one good hand and one steady foot (remember the swollen, twisted ankle). So, thus impaired, I valiantly managed to beat the snow and ice off of my little car. It took me half an hour and cost me the life of my snow brush (it just couldn't handle the ice). I then ran into another problem: I couldn't get the car out of the parking space, owing to the pile of snow behind the back wheels. With no shovel, I couldn't dig my way out, and applying the gas pedal just made my tires spin. Desperate and in almost unbearable pain from jostling my hand and ankle (not to mention the pain from the two banged-up knees), I called the office at my building to see if maintenance would come help me, or just spare a shovel. Chivalry, evidently, is now decomposed in its unmarked grave: the terse reply was that if they did it for one person, they'd have to do it for everyone. Somehow I doubt anyone in the apartment complex feeling jealous of maintenance loaning a shovel to a nearly-crippled single woman, but they could not be prevailed upon. At this point, I felt about as alone and friendless as I have ever felt.

I waited inside for a few hours, hoping that the sun would melt some of the snow, and worrying about what would happen if I were unable to get out in time for class. I don't know any of my fellow graduate students very well yet, so there was no one to call for a ride or a tow. I considered calling a taxi, but realized that I only had two dollars in cash at the moment. Taking the bus was also out of the question, since I would have had to walk all the way to the bus stop, and considering all the black ice and that injured foot, there was no way I was going to attempt that. It was a pretty miserable two hours, spent worrying, trying to ignore the intense physical pain, and feeling completely uncared for and unseen.

Fortunately, the sun did come to my aid, and I was eventually able to back out over the snow, applying more pressure than I have ever used on the gas pedal. I went straight to Kroger, where I found a comfortable splint for my poor left hand (which was swollen, purple, and hideous at this point). I stopped at a Subway to get a footlong sub for my lunch and dinner, knowing that cooking would be very difficult to do with only one hand. Then I went to Liberty, where I spent the next nine hours making up the canceled appointments from last week and attending two classes. My professors were very sweet to me, offering to help me to my car and such. Being cared about was a tremendous and much-needed tonic for my mood.

After class, I picked up some more groceries at my much-hated local Walmart (we have more bad weather on the way, so I was concerned about getting snowed-in again, plus I needed some things that would be easier to prepare in my present physical state), where I was reaffirmed in my opinion that, except on Liberty's campus, chivalry is now a rotting corpse. People ignored my obvious limp and stepped right in front of me, nearly tripping me twice, and one woman even smacked right into my splinted left hand in her exuberant need to grab a can of vegetables RIGHT NOW (clearly, she would have died from malnutrition if she waited for me to move). She didn't even have the decency to apologize when I gasped and recoiled in pain from her collision with me. I don't want to get on a soapbox here, but why are people so selfish that they impede or further injure an obviously already-injured person just to fulfill their own wants a little quicker? Since when did speed supersede kindness, mercy, and general politeness as a virtue?

I came home, examined my throbbing hand, and found that the collision at Walmart increased the swelling a bit. My thumb had gone numb again, so I removed the splint to see if it were a factor. This increased the pain, so after an hour of no improvement in my thumb, I put the splint back on. I slept fitfully, the pain in the hand consistently waking me up. Pain medication did a little to help, but not enough. Today, there is no improvement. It is still an ugly, swollen, incredibly painful appendage. Typing this entry has taken forever, since I am typing one-handed. Don't expect any more long posts for a few days, dear readers!

I typed this post not to complain and whine about how much pain I'm in, but to bring attention to something that has been troubling me for quite some time: the complete disregard that so many people have for others. People seem to think that they are islands, whose actions affect only themselves, and whose cares and energies should be directed only toward themselves. My friends, this is an unacceptable way to live. The smallest action on your part has the potential to substantially impact someone else. You have no way of knowing just what effect each action you take will have. For heaven's sake, please show just a smidgeon of concern for others, and help me in my determined battle against this distressing trend of selfishness. Your personal convenience should NEVER supersede someone else's well-being. If spending one minute waiting your turn patiently means not injuring someone else, then isn't it obvious which choice you should make?

A little over a week ago, two men gave up twenty minutes of their time to do what they probably thought was just a good deed - digging out my car for me. They had no idea that I was feeling depressed and lonely that day, and their actions suddenly reminded me that God was looking out for me, and that I had no reason or right to be sad. They had no idea that one action on their part made them heroes to someone with a need. At Liberty last night, one of my professors spent less than ten seconds of his time opening a water bottle for me when he noticed me struggling with it. He had no idea how much such a simple action helped: it made me feel that someone cared, it spared me further pain, and it allowed me to take pain medication, thus sparing even more pain about twenty minutes later. By contrast, one rude woman caused me so much pain that driving home was a living nightmare. Undoubtedly, she also is partially to blame for the trouble I had in sleeping. I used myself only for these examples, but obviously, these actions would have been very similar in result no matter whom they happened to. The point is, these small, seemingly insignificant actions do have significance, and have a ripple effect.

So, I am issuing a challenge to both you, my readers, and even to myself. Though I do make a conscientious effort to show kindness and consideration to others, as I know many of my readers do also, there is always room for improvement. The world is being overrun by people who care only about themselves - just read some of those t-shirts if you want further evidence of the kind of "virtues" being extolled today ("It's all about me," "My way or no way," "Princess," etc.). Let's rebel! Let's all go out and think about others, and be a counter-cultural movement of people not motivated by selfish desire alone. Let's make the boorish people the outcasts, and run circles of consideration around them. And please, if ever you see someone limping or otherwise impaired, or just someone who could use a hand, don't be hindered by this modern ideal of treating them the same as everyone else - spit in the face of modern thinking and hold the door open for them. Hand them the box they're trying to reach on the top shelf. Pick up the pencil they just dropped. Loan them a shovel. Dig out their car. Smile and ask if they need a ride to their car. Acknowledge that they exist.

Pictures from Today's Catastrophe

Here are two photos of today's great "accomplishments". In the first, I tried valiantly to get a good shot showing all the colors in my hand, but this was the best I could do. It was much more swollen earlier, but I iced it for two hours and got it down to this size (which is still pretty swollen). In person, it looks even more impressive. In the second picture, you can clearly see the size difference between my two ankles - and this is also following two hours of icing and elevating. I think a little of the swelling has gone down in my ankle from how it was at first.


Of all my injuries, the hand (and wrist) is definitely the one that hurts the most. I have to do all my typing with only my right hand, and even just the weight of my sweatshirt sleeve causes considerable pain. My elbow is also sporting a very nice bump and bruise, as is my shin. The knees are still sore from being scraped, but don't seem to be bruising.