Archive for July, 2008

anatomy of a wednesday. words included.

Posted in disney princesses got nothin' on me, drama drama drama, etcetera, going quietly mad, i promise you that you won't care, me, oh so very random on July 30, 2008 by drbolte

problem @ 5:15 a.m.:  woke up late.  need to leave in 20 minutes but also need to be presentable.

solution:  waves of envy.  remember how i told you that i loved it? i don’t think you understand how it routinely saves my life.

problem @ 10:35 a.m.: i might fall asleep. i can‘t fall asleep!  must. get. energy.

solution:  little tiny raisin box i stuck in my purse about a million years ago. hey, it’s dried fruit. it doesn’t go bad.  and it’s like nature’s candy.  SUGAR!  (although it wasn’t really much, it did something…)

problem @ 1:00 p.m.: starving to absolute death.  breakfast was 7 hours ago and those raisins? not lasting.  about to be in the car for an hour and a half, in what looks like it’s going to be some sort of crazy rainstorm.  no cash and no will to eat mcdonalds.

solution: superwalmart. 2% cheese cubes.  something called “itty packs” which have the most adorable little graham cracker bees and tiny little teddy grahams.  cash back at the cashier.  i love technology.

problem @ 1:30 p.m.: stupid idiot driver keeps inching over towards my lane.  listen.  if you can’t talk to your family and drive, choose one.  preferably driving since YOU’RE GOING 75 MILES AN HOUR.

solution:  idiot sped up.  good riddance.

problem @ 3:00 p.m.: fetchin’ i can’t manage to pay my freaking cell phone bill or credit card bill on time to save my life. i blame time.  HOW IS IT THE 30TH ALREADY?  it was like…the 19th a minute and a half ago.

solution: while i was paying said cell phone bill (thank you AGAIN technology!) online, i enrolled in txt2pay.  did you know that you could automatically pay your cell phone bill via a text message?  i swear sometimes i wonder why we need people at all, except to facilitate this kind of magical mystical interface of gorgeousness.

problem @ 3:40 p.m.: cranky tired. antisocial.  want to murder the person outside my window who keeps making some sort of repetitive metallic clanking noise.  i don’t care if you’re moving in.  stop it. rightnowkthanks.

solution: fan on.  white noise helps.  tv.  end of chevy chase’s law and order episode (he just got arrested!  for MURDER!).  my bed.  nap time.  yay.

problem: too much to do tonight. not enough time.

solution:  take a good nap now.  make use of project runway time for weights/squats/crunches/stability ball.  eat leftovers.  grade and plan during SYTYCD.  there’s time to get everything done.

and if there’s not, oh well.  it’ll happen tomorrow.

problem: i’m just too cute.

solution:  ain’t one.  you just gots to live with it.  hahaha.

(delusional.  going to sleep now.)

c. finally.

Posted in c on July 28, 2008 by drbolte

5000 double stuf oreo cookies.

40,000 gummi bears.

1100 pieces of pepperoni pizza from Papa John’s.

940 bean burritos from Taco Bell.

what do they all have in common?

well, besides the fact that once upon a time, i loved them (let’s not lie…i pretty much think gummi bears and pizza still rule the world), they each add up to 350,000 calories.

and you know what that adds up to?

100 pounds.

today, that’s what c is. that’s what the c has been all along, leading up to this day.

i finally hit it this morning.

approximately 40,000 fewer gummi bears and three-ish years later.

i was going to post the before and after picture, but it felt too…much. i had them all up and everything. i’m not sure why i can’t post them. i think those of you who didn’t know me in those days would be shocked. i am shocked every time i look at them. but they remind me where i came from and that, regardless of the days i’ve sat around and read eclipse rather than doing work or the times i chose pudding over broccoli, i still did that. all myself. nobody did it for me. it was me. all me. a year or so of counting everything, a year and a half of maintaining, and the last four or five months of figuring out how to love to exercise and kicking it into high gear again.

all me. because i’m just that stubborn.

so today, i hit a mark i thought i’d really never hit.

gotta tell you, it doesn’t suck. it really doesn’t.

it’s definitely monday.

Posted in sigh, The Single Life, you have to be a chick to understand on July 28, 2008 by drbolte

woke up late. haven’t eaten breakfast yet. but i needed to come on here and confess.

i might have a crush on someone that i really shouldn’t have a crush on.

don’t worry. nothing scandalous or anything, like a student. (uh, no. i have had adorable students, but i am better than that. you know those skeezy professors. that’s not me.)

just…utterly unattainable but completely adorable. and problematic for many reasons. but when he talks to me and is all adorable everywhere all the time…CRUSH.

i hate those. they’re so distracting.


tell me i’m not the only one…confess your current or past crush-y secrets. i am almost a doctor, after all…

edited to add: and the monday goodness keeps on happening. people in the gym.  me=cheesed off and gunshy given my last experience.  not motivated to work out ANYWAYS=turning around and coming home.  some days you just want to go back to bed.  disappointments and frustrations abound in other, non-talk-about-able areas of my life.  there’s nothing worse than seeing the bad when you ought to see the good, and that’s me today.  i might cry a little. maybe i’ll take a nap.  i’ve got nothing to show for this day.  i’m sick to death of that.

now only lasts for one second.

Posted in Church, etcetera, faith is action, friends, life lesson number 498, me, perfect brightness of hope on July 27, 2008 by drbolte

before i begin, i feel like i need to say something about the last post. i realize that it may have seemed like i actually saw this kid doing something disgusting. i really didn’t. i just saw him peering out of the door.  should i have realized what was going on? probably. but you have to understand that when i am working out, i am thinking about maybe five things, all somehow related to keeping my feet moving and my ipod on.  i don’t contemplate the cosmos or really even think about life. i get into a mindless zone, and it’s lovely.  so…should i have immediately figured out what was going on? probably.  but i didn’t.  and, to be fair, maybe that kid thought i did see. and if he did…then i can sort of understand his surprise.  because wouldn’t you be surprised if somebody was okay with that?  

yeah me too.

now…on to other things.


it’s moving faster lately. 

i don’t know if you’ve noticed.  sometimes i have moments when i stop and wonder:  what have i done with the last million minutes of my life? it seems so grand, that number, doesn’t it?  but it’s not. it’s just about two years.  so where were you ’round about this time two years ago?  who were you?  what were your goals?

did you let life happen to you or did you do something about it?

i feel like today’s lesson, in more ways that one, was about making things happen, not waiting for them to happen.  today in church we talked about such things–about the fact that you don’t change because an event happens.  nobody walks out of their wedding, for example, a completely different person.  do you adapt to circumstances? sure.  but if you want to be a different kind of person, nothing’s going to do that for you except effort on your part.

no quick fixes here in the real world.  sort of sucks, doesn’t it?

but then again it doesn’t, because when you do take your life in your hands and make something out of it, when you have those moments when you realize that SWEET MOSES WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO THE SUMMER AND WHAT DO I HAVE TO SHOW FOR IT?, you can look around and count.

oh.  i did that.

oh. i became that.

oh. i finished that.

oh.  i conquered that.

oh. that weakness is now a strength.

or you can have tiny moments when you realize that, despite what you thought you’d do or what you most certainly would have done before, you’re making decisions that reflect how different you really are. 

those are cool.

i’ve sort of had encounters with people who aren’t doing this over the past week or so–people who react rather than act.  i worry about them. life is hard.  life is long–too long to worry about the stuff that doesn’t matter–and short–too short to wait around for it to come to you and deliver, in a wrapped package, all of the things that you want to do and be.  those are both true, though they may seem contradictory.  and i worry about people who seem to be waiting around for their life to take flight.

i have learned a few things in my years of hard knocks.  life has been good and kind to me, for sure, but it has polished and refined me something fierce.  what are you waiting for?, i want to ask to those people.

to be brave? you can only gain courage by taking scary steps.

to be strong? you can only be strong by admitting you’re weak or frightened and still stepping further than you think you can.

to endure? you can only endure by moving forward. endurance is not a standing still sport.

to be happy?  happiness is never going to just find you and hang out perpetually. happiness is a condition created by everyday action. 

for people to respect you?  stand up for yourself with respect for them.  say what you mean.  move forward with confidence.  

i wish, so much, that people could just learn from what i’ve been through.  i had a conversation tonight about this with someone who reminds me very much of myself a few years ago.  and i just so desperately, desperately, desperately want to save her from the hard stuff. i want her to stand up for herself, to make choices with confidence, to stop waiting.  it doesn’t work that way, i know.  i think i must now feel a wee bit of what my mom felt when she would plead with me to learn from her mistakes and make my own instead of just repeating hers again and again.  

so what have i learned from all of this? action is my apparently default problem-solving mechanism and my battle plan for life.

when something tough is presented to me, i do something. it may have nothing whatsoever to do with that problem right there in front of me, but it’s got something to do with something, and i’m moving. i can’t stand still. and eventually, to allude to a really cool quote that’s truer than i think people realize, i live my way into the answers to all of my questions.  


but i’ll be living and moving and trying and failing and growing and changing in the meantime.  

and in the last million minutes, i like where that road has taken me.

if i have to start carrying mace, i’m done.

Posted in drama drama drama, ghetto life, i am not a gym rat on July 24, 2008 by drbolte

before i permanently purge this from my memory from the ever-increasing creep factor alone, i must blog it. because all of the weird/creepy/disgusting things that happen to me at the gym must be preserved for posterity.  

location: apartment ghetto gym.

time: approximately 1:30 p.m.

there is a family outside in the pool, people in the leasing office, maintenance men wandering around doing handy things–the place is generally in a bustle.  the apartment gym, however, is thankfully empty. i’m on the elliptical, ten minutes in.  a guy, between 16 and 20 (i couldn’t really tell) comes in and goes into the bathroom.  i smile slightly at him, as it is now my policy to not in fact look like i will murder you while working out, even though that is my default expression.

he’s in there for a while.

i don’t judge.  listen, it happens. sometimes lunch just wasn’t a good choice, and if that’s the case, that is precisely the place you need to be.  i don’t judge, but i do notice.  on tuesday there was a little six year old girl who was in the bathroom for like 20 minutes.  i was about to see if she was okay when she came out–because she was six.  but adults?  not my business.

so it’s important for you to know that two sides of this room is covered in mirrors, much like every gym.  the elliptical faces diagonally–not right at the mirrors, but sort of at the wall between the two mirrored walls.  the mirrors, though, pick up what’s behind me, which is the men’s bathroom door and the window to the parking lot.  i pretty much can see everything.

you should also know that when i am on the elliptical, i try VERY HARD not to look at the machine’s display screen because it makes time crawl by. i normally choose a point on the wall in front of me–which happens to be the women’s bathroom door–and start at it.  it’s sort of zen and it lets me zone out while i’m moving so that i am not counting minutes.  i am usually quite successful at it.

when i’m by myself, though, i will occasionally look in the mirror. perhaps i am vain to admit that, but it helps me to check my posture, to see how my exertion level is being presented to the world, etc.  but sometimes, it’s just another place to look, especially if there’s something going on in the parking lot.  

so about…five? six? minutes later, i see, out of the corner of my eye as i shift perspectives from the wall to the mirror, that the men’s bathroom door is cracked.  this kid hasn’t come out, and i realize that he is PEERING OUT OF THE BATHROOM DOOR at me.  i turn around, i think, and look at the door to make sure that i was seeing right (i didn’t have my glasses on and, quite honestly, i was completely shocked).  

he closes it and then opens it and comes out and stands at the bottled water machine, which is probably four feet from the elliptical that i am on.  basically, he is standing right next to me.

my ipod is on, but i see his lips moving and realize that he is talking to me.

behold the creepiest conversation i have EVER had:

him: sorry.

me: you’re fine.

[put ipod back on]

[his mouth moving again–take ipod off again]

him: you weren’t upset?

me: it’s not a big deal.

[put ipod back on. i am CLEARLY TRYING TO STOP TALKING TO HIM. and yet his lips are moving again.  i guess it’s too much to ask that he’s adept at subtle body language.]

him: mumblemumblemumble me?

me: what?

[why am i even talking to him?!?]

him: did you see me?

me: yes.

him: and it didn’t make you upset?

me: it’s not a big deal.

[well, it wasn’t a big deal until you made me think more about it, you creepy freakshow.  i’m quickly reconsidering.]

[i put my ipod back on, feeling like the conversation is over.  he drinks water.  hallelujah.  oh flip, his lips are moving again and i am apparently compelled to continue responding.]

him: so if it happened again, you wouldn’t be upset?

me: [exasperated] i don’t know, i wasn’t really paying that much attention.

him: [sort of creepily chuckling]  sorry.

[i put my ipod back on.  conversation OVER. his dad apparently gestures him out and he leaves. the creep factor increases exponentially as i rehash the conversation in my head for the next ten or fifteen minutes.]

behold the next generation of stalkers, who apparently are ASKING PERMISSION of their victims?  i can just picture his defense: she saw me, your honor, and she didn’t even seem upset. i asked her! 

i have no idea what he was looking at.  i mean, i can guess what he was looking at, but i was in workout clothes–not even tight workout clothes–and sweating like crazy.  i had a hat on.  i had my ipod on. there was nothing remotely attractive about me at that moment. i was DRENCHED sweaty. i’m just not that cute.  nevertheless…apparently something was interesting enough for creepy stalker bathroom guy. 

this could really only happen to me.  


eleven minutes to save the world.

Posted in blogging, books are bliss, dissertation, drama drama drama, facebook is the new crack, going quietly mad, i am not a gym rat, Life, me, School, the joys of living in Florida, Uncategorized on July 23, 2008 by drbolte

it is 11:11 p.m. on wednesday night.  i am giving myself eleven minutes to blog until i go to bed. project runway is rerunning on bravo right now, and i’m ticked that i’m not currently watching the taped episode of so you think you can dance that i was supposed to have gotten ready but forgot.


i really have not much to say of substance. nothing much has changed since monday. i still am ruled by the bright blue planner.  i have stories of my class that you will have to wait for two weeks for so that i cannot be accused of being unprofessional.  by then i may reconsider the appropriateness of posting them.  let’s just say that, sometimes, being a grad student and having your students know that you are a grad student means that you get just a TRIFLE more attitude than i imagine, say, any tenured professor would get.

but i actually wonder if that’s true, since i am guessing that some people just give attitude to whomever they wish.

(and yes, i did just use the word whom. and i used it correctly.  worship me.)

so…not much has changed.  organic guacamole still gets me through my days, pathetic as that may seem, and i have decided that as much as i love the elliptical, i really, really hate sharing the apartment gym with anyone.  yesterday i had grand ambitions to be on there for 90 minutes.  i might have been dead had i succeeded, but that’s all a moot point because…someone came in.  and i assumed they wanted to get on the elliptical.  and i was already a hot mess and not sure that i could make 90 minutes either, and the pressure of having someone else there on the bike next to me, imagining them staring at me and willing me to finish already, made me cave at 47 minutes.  

today’s ambition was to get through this day without falling over because, after me and my roommates had an impromptu congregation in my room last night until 12:30 and i couldn’t really fall asleep until 1 or 1:30–insomnia cause number 47: stupid cardio songs stuck in my head every night.  the other night it was umbrella, last night it was forever.  oy.–i hauled my carcass out of bed at 6:50 to swim and do water jogging (which sounds like something for blue-haired old ladies, but it actually fun and definitely gets your legs a-burning).  so i decided that if i made it through today, being productive and conscious, it would be a miracle.

i’m alive.

i did some stuff. 

but i didn’t do everything that i wanted.  

my facebook status is right now ‘FAIL’ because that’s how i feel when i don’t get to cross everything off my list.  and i have somehow degenerated into writer’s freakout block, which means that even when i do have time to work on my dissertation because i got up at 6:50 and actually had whole chunks of time not carved out for getting my heartbeat down or staving off imminent dehydration or preparing for this class that takes up SO MUCH TIME (whose idea was six quizzes and six journal entries in six weeks? nonsense), i instead went on facebook and basically begged people to pay attention to me.

(cute boys from arizona did. yay me!)

these are not new tactics.  they’re actually as old as i am–and at moments like this, that feels pretty old–but they are interesting to observe in the strangely schizophrenic distance i’m able to achieve as i’m actually acting out all of this dissertation nonsense.

nonsense it all is, as i’m keenly aware.  so tomorrow’s moment-by-moment schedule includes little notes to myself that include “STOP AVOIDING THIS.”  as if it will happen.  

and if it does, it will be a miracle.  

but miracles are all around me, so i don’t doubt that i will be able to do it.  

i just genuinely don’t know how to accomplish everything that needs to be accomplished. 

but i’m pretty sure that it involves me getting up at 6:45 a.m. again.  


tales from school.

Posted in wordless wednesday on July 23, 2008 by drbolte

(lest i too be considered a vicious purveyor of stolen ideas, please click the image to visit the original source, which is a blog post on plagiarism in social media…which is not at all what i’m referring to but is nonetheless interesting.)

i have penciled you in.

Posted in blogging, etcetera, going quietly mad, i am not a gym rat, i promise you that you won't care, me, School, the internets, the joys of living in Florida on July 21, 2008 by drbolte

my schedule says, after some tweaking, that between now and 6:30, i have chill time. i deserve it, having spent 80 minutes walking at the stadium with purpose. i am hoping chill time will include a power nap through some law and order.

my schedule rules my world.

it is made in pencil–to allow for unforeseen tweaking based on traffic, talkative investigators at missionary lessons, student concerns, or dishes that must be done–and it is the only thing that may or may not keep me sane through the next few weeks, when balancing all that needs to be done is as exhausting as everything that needs to be done.

but enough about that, except that i am proud of my schedule because it is me taking control.

but in the quick short time i have to update you on life, i only have energy and minutes for bullet points. forgive, please?

  • unexpected knock at the door last night. thank heavens i looked fairly decent. boy at the door. boy who is interested at the door. boy who i thought i was done with at the door. unexpectedly: chemistry present. i don’t know.
  • i go to get the mail today. there’s nothing in the mail. color me frustrated and annoyed. FRUSTRATED. and ANNOYED. but then wait. there IS something in the mail. from malaysia. from the ex. ugh. WHYYYYYY?!?
  • running stadium trio: listen. i know you’re all cute. and you’re all in rhythm. it’s adorable. but you have the entire width of the walkway to move. all i’ve got is this row of SEATS right here. you’re running. i’m walking. if i could move, i would. i can’t. so how about YOU move and stop acting like you own the joint? oh wait. too hard for you? fine. i’ll twist myself into a pretzel for you. super. no problem.
  • class: please gain reading comprehension. please?!?
  • 39 days to Gator football. i’m way excited.
  • about thirty five seconds after i last posted, i discovered the largest bug known to humanity on the bookshelf next to my desk. mortal combat ensued, between me and the bug and between me and paralyzing revulsion. this combat featured one scene with me, slowly turning in the absolute middle of my room with two bottles of cleaner in my hands like weapons, drawn and ready to fire. it was hilarious. horrifying and hilarious. where’s george clooney and a flamethrower when you need them?
  • i may or may not have just lost the will to live since i am typing, sitting on the floor with my laptop on my bed and my head laying on the bed. hard to picture probably, but most assuredly pathetic.

it’s all worth it, right? sometimes i wonder.

OOH. i get to eat guacamole tonight. the little things are going to see me through. mechanical pencils with good erasers and fun designs. organic guacamole. strawberries. being able to do something nice for someone else. people taking an interest in me when they don’t have to. did i mention guacamole?

and that ends the wandering ramble through my world.

unexpected fruits of weekend insomnia.

Posted in etcetera on July 20, 2008 by drbolte

i wrote a blog post almost a year ago with a song i wrote. at the time, it was only two verses and i knew that it needed more. i was reading over some stuff in my “personal” folder on the desktop, mainly looking for something specific but stumbled into the file with that song in it.

and you could have knocked me over when i realized that i had written more. and it’s strangely good.

how do i bridge the distance between hope and what’s real,
between our life and what might come to be?
the words are all gone, all i have is this wish
that’s actually beginning to scare me.

that question, it haunts me like your smile often does
because nothing feels realer than that
my heart says my mission in life is to love you
and your arms are my safe harbor at last.

i apparently wrote it just before christmas and then went about my business like it didn’t matter. finding it again felt a little like christmas and reminded me that maybe i have something to say after all.

(not in songs though. i am not cut out for lyrics.)

c, part three: cracks.

Posted in c, etcetera, Life, me, mirror mirror on the wall on July 18, 2008 by drbolte

want to catch up? read part one and part two.

there’s something magic about the number thirty.

i’d lost about that many pounds before people started noticing. i don’t know what it is about that number, but every other time i’d lost before, it was thirty when the comments started.

you know this scenario. it happens when you get a new haircut that’s different but not dramatically different or when you change the color. people look at you, trying to put the pieces together. it’s a familiar feeling for all of us.

mystical number thirty was also, every other time, when i’d stop despite having more thirties to tackle.

when i kept going, the comments changed to silence or questions without a real middle ground. from those in my same boat, i’d get serious questions, usually in a whispered conversation in a random hallway, about what i was doing and how i was doing it. they were always asked in a sort of awe-filled tone, as if i was had the potential, in that moment, to become their personal oracle. while flattering, i still find it a bit disingenuous to wax philosophical on a topic that i am far from an expert on. i am uncomfortable by these questions but also kind of an attention slut about it. it’s a strange duality for me.

everyone else seemed to grow silent. i like the silence. i respect the silence. still do. quite a lot, actually.

because accompanying the silence came a lot of measurable changes that i didn’t think to notice at the time, really, but now looking back i see as all wrapped up in the process. one day i woke up and decided that i was going to make of my life what i wanted. i don’t know if i got increasingly tired of waiting for life to happen to me or if i got bit by some kind of spunky bug, but i was done with sitting around.

i showed up for stuff that i avoided before. i made plans with people. i hung out, i talked, i played, i adventured. i flirted with people i never would have before. i asked guys out.

i was a different me.

that began to be what people started to notice more than anything. i had, in pretty short order, gone from being a person people sort of knew of to a person that people knew well. i was everywhere.

i was good with that.

i’d like to think that i was always the person that i am now. i’d like to think that being a few sizes smaller and pounds lighter didn’t make me better. i think that’s true. i think i always was this person, somewhere down deep.

that’s what i’d like to focus on–that somewhere down deep.

lots of people talk about their size as something that wrapped them up tight, that kept them protected from the world. i don’t like that idea. i want to believe that you can be who you are regardless of what you look like. i do believe that.

i hesitate to use a deeply cheesy metaphor, but it’s the best one i can think of. that magical, mystical number thirty began the cracking of my cocoon. i wasn’t suffocated in my size; i was growing in it, no pun intended. i concentrated on a lot of things while i was there: my intelligence, my spirituality, my relationship with my family, my professional life, my goals, my sense of resilience, my heart.

but slowly, as i shed more of me, i felt other things starting to emerge.

my sassy sense of humor.

my crazy good flirting ability.

my innate ability to befriend others and really see them. perhaps that’s born of years of not really seeing myself. what a blessing if it is. i’d do it all again if it means i could see people the way i can.

my passion for adventure, especially the ones that i create on my own.

an oddly deceptive (but sometimes true) sense of breezy confidence.

my strength.

my commitment and endurance. i don’t think i ever knew that i could stick with something before. not something i really had the potential to suck at completely.

my fierceness. i say what i think when i think it now.

my loyalty.

my big giant heart and how it loves completely. how i fall hard and fast. how i’m learning to not apologize for that.

my beauty…and my belief and recognition of it. (still learning this one.)

i cracked open, which sounds creepy and bad horror movie-like, but it’s true. being smaller has made me a bigger person.

how weird is that?