Confessions from the Battlefield

Yes, I have homework. Yes, I need to study. But I had to share a confession with my small following. My aim is to write this in 10 minutes or less... something that seems to be impossible for me to do. But I aim to set a record for myself. After all, I have plenty to do...

As Ive mentioned in a previous post, I am enrolled in a kickboxing class. Given, spending $200 for this kickboxing class was not in my realm of things to do this semester, but Ive been like a fly to one of those light zappers with the Kinesiology chair, trying to convince him to start a kickboxing class. Well, now I had to take it... I mean, they might as well have named the class after me!

So were now in week 4 of classes. Which means, Ive had several kickboxing classes under my belt. I have a few kickboxing stories to share, but thats not really the purpose of this post... Like I said, I have a bit of a confession. Though, I think its something we can all confess to. But we choose to not... Let me explain.

My hands are thrashed. I mean, they are bruised and hurting and close to bleeding in one area. Why?? Well, my instructor wanted us to get a feel for the bag before we start using gloves to protect ourselves. That, and our equipment has yet to arrive. (It should be in on Thursday, giving us the opportunity to begin sparing with each other! Im actually a little nervous for that...) Anyways, my hands are pretty bruised from punching the bag. It really looks like Ive gotten in a fight. Given, I dont want to be labeled as "the girl who obviously fights.... I mean, look at her hands!" But in the same instance, its kinda cool.

Which brings me to my confession... I like bruises. Well. I dont like getting them. And I dont like them when they are causing me pain and discomfort. But I like the appearance a bruise has. The story it hides. Theyre called battle wounds for a reason! Ive had so many bruises in my life. Believe me, I shouldve documented them. And no they werent attractive, but I earned those puppies! In waterpolo, I got the worst best bruises. Again, it wasnt fun actually getting them, but when the bruise appears, you cant help but smile to yourself.

Lets face it. We all hope to get a mark when we hurt ourselves. Sometimes, the story may be a little too embarrassing to tell, so in those cases we hope theres no evidence, or we make up a story. But in those instances where you really hurt yourself and you cry, "Ouch! That smarts!" Youre following that up with, "That better be a bruise tomorrow!" Its human nature! Then when that huge bruise appears on your arm, youre secretly wishing people will notice so you can tell your story. Because whatever the story is, however big the mark may be, you are still standing! YOU have WON! You fought a hard battle and now you have something to show for it back on the homefront. If you are thinking "Yes. Yes. Totally." And possibly admiring your own battle wound youve recently received, you are not alone, my friend. There are others like you! I am one of them! Show off that black and blue!

Ive had plenty of bruises I dont care to tell the story for... Like when I slid off the bed and had a bruise literally from my knee to my hip. Not a classy move on my part, but the bruise was memorable. Or when I got elbowed in the face in practice at waterpolo and immediately a goose egg developed on my forehead along with some nice bruising the next few days. Not pretty, but I emerged from the battlefield. Or how in my sisters wedding photos, you can easily see bruises on my chest and arm... obviously I was in the middle of season. Not really something that adds beauty on such a historic event.

And now, I have bruised hands. 

From punching a bag. 

In my kickboxing class.

I think Ill take that story... I just gotta deal with the pain a little. But we all love a good story to share. If there are props... it only makes it better!

And because everyone loves a good picture...
Here are my fresh wounds...
Kinda hard to see, but
Not even black and blue yet.

Eyes for the Blind... Colorblind....

Today, as I was sitting in Genetics, a humerous situation arose. Well, it was funny to a classroom full of Biology college students... in reality, it was slightly sad. It began with the exciting material of studying genetics. We are currently looking at how DNA replicates. Did I lose your attention already?? Bear with me - Im not actually going to go through the process of replication... I dont really know how much I, myself, am certified to explain. Yes, as shocking as it may seem, I am not professor material.

My professor is this Asian woman, who has her Ph.D. from Harvard in something really boring and hard. You can tell shes incredibly smart. Im grateful, though, that she does her best to produce the information in the most juvenile terms possible so my inadequate mind does not get entirely lost in the learning process. She uses animations for us to picture what shes talking about. For that, especially, Im thankful. Today, she was showing us an animation of DNA replication, complete with primers, helicase, polymerase III, etc.. Everything was color coded, in bright yellows, greens, blues, reds... She was so excited at one point when all the yellows (I think they were primers) turned to red (DNA). "Did everyone see that?? Ok, the yellows are going to turn to reds. Notice in which direction this happens... from 3' to 5' or from 5' to 3'." And she replayed it.

After the yellows turned to reds, she questioned if we saw it again. Two guys sitting in the front whispered back and forth slightly. And you know how professors always get irritated when people talk in their class, so they try to catch you and make you share your conversation with the class so you consider that next time you want to talk to your neighbor... So, she looked at them and made a face asking what was so important.

"Well... Brandons colorblind." Immediately, we all felt for the guy, but also started laughing, as Brandon, himself, helplessly laughed as his friend outed him to the class. Not that he really had a choice...

Obviously, Brandon had no idea what color was yellow and what color was red. Therefore, he couldnt tell where the change occurred. I vaguely remembered having class with these two guys last year and it came out in there that he was colorblind... I dont remember how, but I think Ive heard this information before. It didnt make it any less tragic.

My professor was a little stumped at what to do for him. "Oh... that makes things a little difficult for you when studying genetics then doesnt it?? Well! You can still see yellow and red though right!" And moved on. Obviously, there was a slight disconnect there at what Jim was trying to say about Brandon being colorblind. Brandon laughed and faintly said, "Uhh... no I cant see that."

This whole situation got me thinking. And Im not saying being colorblind is the worst thing that could ever happen to an individual... because I am very aware that it is not the most horrible "disability" a person can experience. But nevertheless, its sad. I started thinking of all the things that he has to miss out on.

He cant see the colors of flowers, so he will never be able to appreciate the spectacle of the rose parade. He cant see the beauty of a sunset. He cant marvel in the sight of a rainbow after a rain. He cant distinguish between the ocean and the sky. He cant see the artwork that God paints in the sky. He cant decipher between a day in spring and a day in fall. He cant see the brightness of a city lit up in the night. He has to watch tv in black and white! His Easter eggs all look gray! Etc. Etc.

Obviously, it isnt like I ran up to him and said all of these things... that would be like eating an ice cream cone in front of a child. But all these thoughts ran through my head. I developed a whole new appreciation for my sight... which is capable of being perfected with some heavy duty contacts. (Though, yes, I am close to being blind... which just occurred to me...) I smiled to myself as I observed a gorgeous stream of wildflowers on the way back to my apartment. I dont understand why colorblindness became a thing... I mean, I dont understand why that is a gene that is carried by some. That is just mean. Being blind is terrible, but its all or nothing. Being colorblind is like going halfway on that. I think its just mean.

Then I remembered another funny story that happened one year at summer camp for church. We were in a night session and the speaker asked, "When was the last time you took a risk?" We were given the opportunity to discuss this with those around us. After a few moments, he recollected us and asked if anyone would be willing to share. Someone from my church raised his hand.

"The last risk I took was today, while I was driving up here. I went through a stoplight and couldnt remember which light was red and which one was green..." The speaker looked puzzled. "Im colorblind."

Out of My League...

Well its official. My LAST semester of my undergraduate career has started and is well under its way. As of yesterday, I was approved for academic overload and was able to sign up for my last class needed to graduate in May. I am now signed up for 20 units - 7 classes and 1 internship. Yes, I suppose you could say, I plan to skate right through this semester. Since I cant skate, that would entail running into things, falling repeatedly, and a lot of struggle. This semester will be tough and extremely busy. I barely know how I have time to blog... but Im going to try to make it a priority as it does provide a bit of a release. Anyways, I could not be more excited to get it over with and continue on to the next thing in life - whatever that may be.

My schedule consists of a lot of general education requirements, major requirements, and a graduate school requirement. Genetics, Emergencies in Sports Medicine, History, Kickboxing (Im sure Ill have updates about that one soon enough!), Intro to Christianity (thats a story in itself), an internship, and Art and the Bible. Now lets stop at Art and the Bible. Actually, we have to because thats all I got.

Now, I would say I am a fairly creative person. Both parents I received my genes in that department from were generous to share their own creativity with me. However, I am not an artsy person, by no means. I will be the first to admit, I cant look at a painting and fully appreciate it. Museums and art galleries bore me. Plain and simple. Im sorry if that offends you... it just isnt my cup of tea. I took this class because it wasnt at 8am in the morning, it fit with my schedule, and Kaihla was signed up for it. I tried to take interesting classes and/or classes with my friends. For my last semester, I would like to kinda enjoy myself while Im trapped in a classroom for 50-90 minutes.

So, the first day of school, Kaihla and I embarked to our Art and the Bible class. First class of the day. First class of the semester. Though its a 400 level class, I still wasnt expecting it to be too difficult. I mean... art and the Bible. I feel like it isnt the most difficult thing Ive ever had on my schedule. No, that award would go to Organic Chemistry. Anyways. We walk in and choose our seats. On the board are two words, "coherence" and "praxis." As well as "art" and "Bible" with a line separating them in chart format. I looked at Kaihla questioning what "praxis" was. Neither of us knew.

Within a few minutes, our professor began talking, introducing the class. "Obviously you all are visual arts majors... maybe a Christian Studies major or liberal arts, but thats probably where the diversity ends..." Kaihla and I looked at each other. We were feeling very confident in that moment. He continued to talk as we both were praying "oh dear Lord, please dont let this be how it seems it will be..."

Then he began our first class activity. "I say art, you say - ?" He paused and stared at us, expecting us to have an answer. Silence. Personally, I didnt realize he had asked a question. Luckily, I dont think I was the only one. He tried rephrasing the question... "I say art, and you say - ?" Oh goodness. That "and" really cleared up the mystery! I guess when something makes sense in your own head, its difficult to figure out how to make it understandable in another persons mind... "When I say art, you say - ?... The first thing that pops into your head when I say art." Oh. That wasnt too difficult.

Now, my dear readers, when I say art, what do you think of? If you thought of "picture," "color," "painting," etc. you are in my boat. I was thinking I was doing good with those words... I quickly discovered my boat was a sinking ship and needed to up my game. Let me explain. My professor then went around the whole room asking people their thoughts on the now-apparent question.

These were some of the answers:

"Expression." 

"Individualism." 

"Emotion." 

"Exploration." 

"Transcendent." 

"Ambiguous." 

If you thought of a word similar to this, you are part of the elite club I will never have access to. Bravo to you! I sat questioning, What the heck does ambiguous mean?? I tried to give an appealing and intellectual answer when he pointed to me: "inspiring." Of course, my answer was the first that he gave that iffy face to and replied, "eehhh could be, sometimes..." Seriously?? Try as I may...

Finally he talked about the other words on the board. "In case you dont know, "praxis" is Latin for practice." Why the heck dont you just say that then?? How would we all know Latin?? I mean! Were not Latin majors - were Visual Arts majors. Well a majority of the class. Kaihla and I are Kinesiology majors, which is even more distant from Latin.

I kinda like my professor. He seems fine - so far. Hes just extremely boring. And uses words I dont understand. And asks questions I dont understand. Weve had three classes so far. Each class is similar to the last. This is a class where people dont really talk out loud. It is so different from the classes Im used to. I would help the guy out and raise my hand to add to the conversation he has with himself and tries to get us all into, but since I dont necessarily know what hes asking, I dont really know how to add to it. Hopefully though, the intellectual level becomes more simplified for those of us who are not attending an ivy-league school for a reason. Otherwise, the times I do raise my hand will end in a blatant fail on my part...

If You Notice...

If you notice, I have a "Daily Puppy" application on the sidebar of my blog. I periodically come on my blog just to see the cute puppies that are chosen to dress up my page. Quite often, Golden Retrievers are chosen. I love love love Golden Retrievers. Especially puppies. Who doesnt like puppies?? Although, Labs are my favorite. My sweet Casey was a little terror, but had the sweetest heart and made me fall in love with Labs. Anyways. I would like to point out, that today, January 15th, in honor of Steves birthday, the chosen puppy is a Golden Retriever named Carly.

Isnt she adorable??