How far is too far?

I'm asking only because I have this neat little certificate thinger that the Dean at ITT gave to me. I made the Honors List this last quarter because of my grades. Not many of us made that, FYI. Knowing I passed my classes and knowing I got a great GPA is one thing, having physical proof that my teachers noticed, that the DEAN noticed... I want to frame that cute certificate in a pretty frame, admire it for a moment and then mash my dad's face in it. Not litterally. Well... kinda... but more like figuratively. I'd like to see him at our families Christmas get together, whenever that is, and have that certificate handy so I can pull it out and say "Oh boy! Whatever could this be? Honors?! ME?!" and then look pointedly at my dad and wait for that millisecond when his face drops in shocked disbelief and hopefully get a picture of it. Who was it who told me I couldn't pull off 'Sariah grades'? Who was it who sat in front of a complete stranger and asked me why I was even bothering with college? Who was it who has never really expected me to make anything of myself? Oh yeah, that'd be dad. I don't want to completely break him with this one yet though. My goal is to continue to stay on the Honors list and hopefully, by the end of my schooling, when I graduate and get that pretty little certificate that says I WIN, all of those good grades will have completely broken every misconception he ever had of me. He won't know what to think of me then, then he'll be FORCED to actually look at me and see me for who and what I am. He wont be able to brush me aside and tell me I'll never go anywhere because I'll have made it further than him by then. Because with that last super sweet certificate I have so many more doors open for me than he ever hoped to see open for him. He can't ignor me then.

That makes it sound like I'm doing this to get even with him or something like that, but that's not it at all. That's just a super awesome bonus for me. No, this schooling, all of this hard work, every penny I'm putting into this? This is for me. This is for every opporotunity I never got to take when I was younger cause I didn't focus on me. This is for every dream I abandoned to take care of what needed to be taken care of. This is for me and no one else. I want this and I'm going to get it, one way or another. I don't need him to believe in me, I never have. Would it have been nice? Yeah. Would it have helped? Probably. Do I absolutely need it? No, and I never will. My mom is proud of me, and really truely and honestly, that's all I ever wanted or needed.

Perhaps before I frame that certificate I'll let it sit on the fridge for a bit so I can look at it every morning and smile. This whole being proud of me thing? I'm kinda liking it. Go me go!

Ew, Cooties!

Mkay, so, going into my field of study I kind of figured that I would be a major minority and I was prepared for that. I don't think my teachers were though. I've got one teacher whom I had last quarter, she seems to handle me being the only girl in my class just fine. My math class has a few other girls, so that seems to go over well. Today was my networking class though. I don't think I could have stuck out like more of a sore thumb. I heard the giggles and felt the stares as I walked into the class before it had officially started, I took my seat two rows back from the front of the room and settled in quietly, I signed myself in when the attendance sheet came around and listened politely while the other boys introduced themselves and told the class what quarter they were in, why they were there and what they hoped to accomplish. When it came my turn, however, I think my teachers eyes bugged out a bit. He was at least polite enough to let me finish what I had to say before begging forgiveness for whatever future infraction he may commit as a result of "being a guy and saying guy things". The fact that I work in a warehouse with a bunch of vulgar men already barely phased the man. In his lecture he kept coming up short when he'd say "you guys got it? Oh! and gals? Sorry Maranda". It was cute at first, made me giggle, but after a while I got annoyed with it. He just kept going back to that one little fact. The other guys in the class seemed to make an extra effort to interject as many women jokes as they could into the teachers lecture, or at least hint at something like it. I can't say I was sad to leave that class room. The teacher is super nice otherwise, but that little thing is going to really grind my nerves if it keeps up. It's bad enough that I have to sit through five hours of class after being up at three in the morning for work, just let me be and do your thing please.

Last quarters results are in, by the way. I passed my math class with a B+ which put me at a 3.83 GPA, but I can recover this quarter. That number does not displease me though. I'm actually quite proud of myself. That's the highest GPA I've earned since... fifth grade? Something like that. And I worked my butt off for it. If I were a bit more proud of it I might have even printed it off and put it up on the fridge. Go Maranda! Woo!

Outside of school all is well I suppose. Work is work, but I have to say this; I miss living in the sticks. Oh how I miss it! Why? Why would I miss living where neighbors are few and far between, where cats run wild with the dogs, leash laws aren't enforced because there's no sidewalks to muddy, where snow can get up to your butt before the sun peeks over the mountains? Because those are the things I miss the most, especially the neighbor thing. Wednesday night/Thursday morning I almost had to call the cops. That does not please me. Why? Because at 2:30 in the morning I woke up. I didn't know why I woke up at first, but it soon became apparent. The lovely people who live in the upstairs apartment of our duplex decided that 2:30a.m. would be a SPLENDID time to have a big fat raging fight in which she ended up outside my bedroom window screaming, crying and yelling, he was inside slamming doors, stomping around and yelling back. My dogs were barking, their dog was barking, the next door neighbors dogs were barking, the dog across the street was barking, as were the dogs behind our duplex and the dogs down the side street. I was not happy. Not in the least. The only thing that stopped me calling the cops was the knowledge that if I did they would have made me stay and give a statement and tell them everything, and I can't exactly afford to be missing work because some people have no shame and no sense of decency. What in the world would make someone think it's OK to do something like that at 2:30 in the morning in a residential neighborhood? What would make someone think that was an OK thing to do ever? What good does yelling accomplish? How can that possibly fix anything? And the stomping and slamming of doors? Completely and utterly uncalled for. I wanted to open my window and yell at her to shut up and go to bed, but I was too tired and too upset.

Some peoples kids....

Aaaany way, happy holidays to all! I shall post more later. Ta!