Kelsey's Blog

Chicken Soup and Bed Rest College-Style

KBrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 02:21:00 PST

Santa Clara students are very lucky. We have a lot of people looking out for us and trying their hardest to fight our 20 year old god complexes to keep us in good health. There are, of course, the EMTs working hard to make sure your dumb moves become funny stories. But so much more important than the EMTs are the professionals at Cowell Health Center right here on campus. I don’t know what I would do without them. Last week, I hurt my foot doing god knows what. I am a pretty stubborn person but the excruciating pain on the walk back from class persuaded me very effectively to go to the health center. They diagnosed me with acute plantar fasciitis. My dad had plantar fasciitis and few years back and it took him two years, a podiatrist, and thousands of dollars to be diagnosed with the same thing Cowell diagnosed for free (as free as anything is in college) in forty minutes total. I didn’t even have to pay for the crutched they loaned me for the weekend. Students at SCU are really spoiled when it comes to the quality and cost (or lack thereof) of healthcare on campus.

Let’s face it, college students get sick a lot. Our demographic tends to have the strongest immune systems and to be in the best general health, but we are still very at very high right for contracting communicable diseases. If you’re puzzled by this, remember; I sleep within twelve feet of four different people. Throw in communal bathrooms, bad food, and various colligate …ahm… extracurricular activates, and cold and flu season can have a devastating effect of a college campus. Cowell knows this and is very proactive. Flu vaccines (including H1N1) are available to all students, especially those at high risk (EMTs, those with asthma, ect). They send out e-mails if any pattern of illness occurs so affected students can seek treatment and avoid spreading the illness to healthy students. Cowell acts as out mini CDC.

I think if I were given a choice between going to an off campus doctor and going to Cowell, I’d always pick Cowell. They do so much more than a normal doctor’s office. They keep common medications in stock and can dispense it on site for an insanely low cost (I’m talking a $20 pill for three bucks). If they don’t carry the medication needed, they work with a pharmacy that delivers so sick, careless students, like me, don’t have to worry about trying to get to a CVS. Students with stomach flu, a common ailment on campus, will often receive IV fluids to fight dehydration and improve vitals. A normal general practitioner generally won’t hook you up with a couple of liters of saline; they tell you to drink lots of fluids which is useless advice if you’re dehydrated because you can’t keep anything down. The free appointments at Cowell do so much to promote the health of the student body. I was talking to my friend at Indiana University, the largest college in Indiana, last night. He told me he got hit by a car twice yesterday in two different instances; it’s ok, I already did the face palm. I asked him what the health center said, assuming he’d gone after the second car hit him head on. Apparently, IU students only get two free visits to the health center per semester and he only has one free appointment to last him the rest of the year. I know if I had to worry about having to pay for an appointment if something came up, I would be much less likely to seek care, especially for something like foot pain.

One could certainly critique our on campus healthcare system saying it does not discourage hysterical illness; however, Cowell cares for the whole person and while a person with hysterical illness may not have anything physically wrong with them, it is a psychological illness and the counseling and psychological services at Cowell get involved. I can’t express enough how wonderful the people at Cowell are. They handle everything from removal of stitches to yearly exams to the treatment of serious illness. Not onlymake us feel better, even if it’s just by smiling. The nurses, Pas, and MDs who take care of the students really care and it shows with everything they do.

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

KBrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 10:10:00 PST

High school seniors across the country are getting ready to make a very important decision. Colleges are picking students and the students are starting to pick colleges. It’s making me think back to my college selection and how I felt after I arrived at Santa Clara. Like many eighteen year olds, I faced a complicated situation. At the end of my senior year, I was in a fairly serious relationship. I had already made my college decision before I started dating this guy, but I still had to face the difficult questions of relationships versus attending a school across the country. Long story short, I moved to California and my boyfriend dumped me. It’s ok. He was a jerk.

Like most girls who have their hearts broken, I started to play the “what if” game. The biggest what if was “what if I had just gone to Indiana University” like everyone else, including the boyfriend. On some level, I was definitely regretting my decision to come attend Santa Clara. I can tell you now, that doubt was completely unfounded. I have the benefit of hindsight to see that that guy defiantly wasn’t worth giving up a school that could make me happy even if our relationship had worked out (which it wouldn’t have).

I know some of you high school seniors are facing the very serious decision of whether to go to a school that’s the right fit for you or to go to the school that’s close to a significant other. I hope I can share a little wisdom. Choosing a school because that’s where your boy/girlfriend goes is a mistake. Here’s the hard truth: most high school relationships don’t last through college even if the couple is attending the same school. I know you think your relationship will be that 2% that do but your education is a lot to gamble on less than 2%. However, it does happen. There’s a couple I went to high school with who’ve been together for nine or so years now (we’re all just waiting for him to propose). This nine year long couple went to different colleges in different states. My point is that if it’s a strong enough relationship to be worth giving up a school that’s right for you, it’s strong enough to stand the test of distance. Don’t let giving up your dream school for someone who may turn out to be just a stupid boy be something you regret.

Why is my hairbrush wet?

KBrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 10:19:00 PST

I got a new roommate today. I’ve been living alone for the past month or so but Susan officially moved in today. I didn’t know it was possible to experience vicarious moving stress, but it is. It is very very possible. The room isn’t all that big and having four different people looking through my stuff, none of which are me, can be a little bit stressful. As I write this, my roommate’s mom is washing my dishes after sorting my toiletries and rinsing my hairbrushes. All I wanted to do tonight was work on physics and possibly read some US history, but now… I don’t even know what’s going on now. The only real way to describe my living situation at this point is hell in a hand basket. Everything was fine when I woke up and now I’m afraid to move anything because it might draw attention. I don’t like sudden change. Change is hard. Change is scary. Change is bad. EVERYTHING WAS FINE THIS MORNING! I mean, aside from the creepy dream where miss piggy was chasing me around a vampire ridden mansion, but that’s a completely different issue.

Don’t get me wrong, I do like my new roommate; she is a very nice girl. I’m sure tomorrow will be better, but for now there are a lot of people and lots of new stuff and my personal (and closet) space is being seriously infringed upon. I have a religion midterm tomorrow so hopefully everything will somewhat normalize before then. But for now, I’m going to collect my things and go find a nice empty class room in which to do physics.

Mondays with The Bachelor

Kbrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Fri, 29 Jan 2010 12:19:00 PST

Every Monday night all the girls in my suite take a break from studying, plop down o the couch and watch The Bachelor. I know, I know. I hate myself for it too, but there’s a good reason for it. When eight girls live together, the fur can fly! Once a week, we get together and totally trash the contestants of the show, a disproportionate number of which are “models”. It really keeps the cattiness to a minimum. I introduced Jenny to the Bachelor and now she’s totally hooked; I feel like a drug dealer. We’ve gotten pretty good at getting a feel for who’s getting booted off each week. It’s like football for us; we don’t care who wins, we just want to know more than the ref.

I have about a billion thinks I could be doing Monday at eight that would be infinitely more productive than watching “reality” TV. And yet, watching “reality” TV with my roommates is one of the best parts of my week. They are my family here at Santa Clara. At home in Indiana, I watch TV and movies with Mom and Dad, it makes sense that I do the same with the people I live and work with here at school. Like many modern families, my roommates and I are often ships passing in the night. Between rushing to classes, the gym, the library and everything else college students so on a regular basis, we don’t spend extended periods of time together. There is no dinner table to gather around in the evening. Even if we did have room for a kitchen table, we’re far too busy to sit down on a daily basis. We compromise and one hour a week, we sit together and collectively (and brutally) judge women on The Bachelor.

Week 1

KBrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Wed, 20 Jan 2010 12:39:00 PST

This past week was too insane to come up with a creative title. It all started out with Organic Chemistry. My professor last quarter wasn’t exactly Robin Williams in Dead Poets’ Society. On my first day of O chem this quarter, I recognized all the words my (new) professor was saying (he seemed pretty good), but I’d never really been taught the principles behind them. By the end of the hour, I was in a near panic. After talking to my parents, I decided to drop Chemistry and start over the whole series next year. Well, that meant I had to drop my biology class since I had to be concurrently enrolled in Organic. This put my credits at eight when I need twelve to be a full time student. To live in the dorms and be covered by my parent’s health insurance, I need to be enrolled as a full time student. I was panicking (read ‘on the phone to Mom and Dad sobbing’). Fortunately, the food people at the Drahman Advising Center worked their magic and got me into not just one class, but two. I totally owe them a dried fruit basket.
The rest of the week went pretty normally. I was on duty Wednesday night (no calls, as per usual); Thursday morning, there was an earthquake in Physics class. Saturday was when it got interesting again. The EMT’s were having one of our periodic social events (they promote bonding and community). Unfortunately, most people on the squad really didn’t want to go on duty and miss the fun. Rather than see the whole shift cancelled, I volunteered to go on duty. It turned out to be an excellent decision! We got three calls (more than I’ve ever had on one shift); one was really interesting and completely made up for missing the party! I didn’t get a ton of sleep that night and I got up feeling a bit like the people I’d treated: tired achy and blurry eyed. It was great!
Despite the week’s rocky start, it turned out to be a good start to what hopefully be a great quarter!

Words Words Words!

Kbrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Fri, 15 Jan 2010 10:22:00 PST

I’ve been going to the library since before I can remember. I’ve always loved the library so I really should know better than to think that I can just pop in for five minutes and pick up a few books. It never works out that way. Ever. Carmel has a huge library and you can (and I often do) spend hours browsing the shelves looking for titles to entertain me. I’ve always loved libraries. The library is my happy place. I think I love libraries for the same reason I love a sharpened pencil and a clean piece of paper: they are full of potential. When I walk into a library, there are more books than I will ever be able to read in my lifetime. Each one of those books contains something very special: knowledge. Think about it. Books are the physical manifestation of knowledge. Pretty cool huh? When you go to a library, if you’re like me, anything can happen. I just can’t keep my hands to myself. Even if I am going in for a specific book, I can’t help grabbing books off the shelf to take a look. Freshman year, I checked out a book on cult initiation just because it looked interesting. It’s how I roll. It’s pretty cool. I learned all sorts of things I might never have learned otherwise. Ever since I can remember, I’ve loved the public library. I can still remember where the Beatrix potter books were in the old library building. My mom would take my brother and me to the library multiple times a week and I’m sure that’s why I’ve done so well in school thus far. I can’t spell to save my life so knowing how to read before going to school was pretty much the only thing that got me through kindergarten. You have no idea how badly I bombed at spelling and still do.

In college, there is a lot less time for pleasure reading. Anytime for reading goes to organic chemistry, cellular biology, or one history class or another. I don’t know… maybe if I’d taken more time to read like I had in high school, I might have had a better quarter grade wise. How about I make it an experiment (thought not a very controlled one, I’ll admit). I’ll take to read for my own happiness this quarter and see how I do. I’ll keep you posted!

Swapping seats and Scary Stewardesses

Kbrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Sun, 03 Jan 2010 10:29:00 PST

Have I mentioned how much I hate flying? I’m at Chicago O’hare, sitting through my two hour layover. Believe it or not, a layover of this length may not be enough in Las Vegas if you’re going to concourse B; you have to leave the secured area and face the TSA and the (always) long lines. I’m just sayin’, avoid Las Vegas airport at all costs. But back to my current flying brouhaha. I’d had enough of my airline’s persistent attitude problem before I’d finished checking in. American Airlines, I’m talking about you! Oh that’s right, I’m naming names! I booked this flight two whole months ago to the day and because of over booking, I was at serious risk of not getting a seat. Fortunately, I was able to get a seat on my flight (thank you particularly flustered looking baggage handler in Indianapolis) in the first row as it turned out. Once boarding started, I was on the plane an entire five seconds (not hyperbole) before I was yelled at by the flight attendant for having the gall to ask if I could put my bag in the closet in front of my seat as the overhead bins were full and the front row can’t hold onto personal items. On the flight home from Santa Clara, I got in trouble for having my coat in my lap to stay warm. As a frequent flyer (I fly a minimum for six times a year for school alone) I’ve noticed bad attitude are epidemic among airlines. I’ve seen flight attendants so surly, they’ve made small children (and sometimes grown men) burst into tears. As someone who is often clumsy and absent minded, I have incurred the wrath of many flight attendants. These days, my only real expectation is that they might refrain from sucker punching me (at least in front of witnesses). When the person sitting next to me asked for orange juice, I had a sudden urge to ‘duck and cover’. If the OJ reference escapes you, Google ‘American Airlines Orange Juice’ and it will become painfully obvious. As with most things, I am not quite on the same page as my fellow travelers when it comes to flying; I love turbulence (I always feel like I’m being rocked to sleep) but I hate customer service (the service people scare me)! I hope your flying experiences this travel season are better than mine. But if all else fails, just grumble under your breath and hope the airline employee slips on a renegade honey-mustard peanut!

Tidings of Great Joy!

KBrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 06:12:00 PST

Believe it or not, there is quite a bit of culture in Indianapolis. The Indianapolis Museum of Art (IMA) is a pretty common haunt for teenagers in Indy. It may seem strange to see a bunch of teenagers looking at Renaissance art, but consider this: the IMA is free and it has at least some semblance of sophistication. It’s a great place to go on a date! I went there two or three times with my last boyfriend. I went to an exhibit of Roman artifacts on loan from the Louver a couple years ago with my dad and I saw an exhibit on the ancient Egyptians with a boyfriend and they were both incredible. When I came home for Thanksgiving, Mom mentioned a new exhibit at the IMA called ‘Sacred Spain’. We of course didn’t have time to go during Thanksgiving break since we were in town all of one day, but we decided to go when I came home for Christmas. We went to the museum last week to see the Sacred Spain exhibit. It was pretty cool. The exhibit is full of Spanish religious iconology. Some of it was very beautiful; most of it was just upsetting. The Virgin Mary and the Christ Child were portrayed as royalty, wearing jewels and expensive robes and St. Joseph was pretty much ignored, as always. There was a cool explanation of norms and “truths” that were avidly enforced in Spain during the period during which most of the exhibit’s art was created. Apparently, portraying Mary and the Christ Child (baby Jesus for those who didn’t go to catholic grade school) as royalty was expected and the implication was that an artist could get in trouble for painting mom and the Kid any differently. It made me feel like people forget that even God was an outcast. I mean, he was born in a barn for heaven’s sake! His mom was an unwed mother; that’s a tough situation to be in today. The implications for her 4B.C could have been damaging, even fatal if not for the faith and compassion of St. Joe! Like a week after Baby J was born, in the barn, the whole family had to move to Egypt because, had they stayed in Nazareth, the Kid would have been, wait for it…killed! You really don’t get to be more of an outcast than that. Knowing that God, who really could have transubstantiated as anything or anyone, decided to come to earth as a poor, hated child of unwed parents, how we call anyone too much of a lost cause to be loved? I think that’s the real gift of Christmas. Not an iPhone or a dog snuggie, but a divine model of unconditional acceptance. Merry Christmas and God bless.

Now Boarding Flight 325 to Neverland

Kbrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 04:29:00 PST

While applying for a scholarship (and you thought that ended with high school), I set to the task of updating my resume. The thought alone is usually enough to scare me away from my computer for days, but it really wasn’t that bad. I last updated it during the summer, so there were only a few dates to change and a thing to two to add. It makes me kinda sad that I not only have a resume, I update it on a regular basis. It pretty much means I’m not a kid anymore doesn’t it? I’m still pretty young so it isn’t a long resume but I need it to get a job so it gets longer. It’s a vicious circle isn’t it? You need experience to get a job, and you need to get a job to get experience. It’s a conundrum faced by every young adult. It’s almost time for me to start looking for a summer job. In this economy, an application submitted in March is an application submitted too late. I really hate summer job hunting. Hunting for a summer job yourself? Let me take some of the pressure off: NO ONE IS HIRING! There are few things more degrading than attempting to enter the workforce. I tired last summer; it didn’t work out as I expected. The only person willing to hire me was my dad. Oddly enough, the job he gave me, market research at Kinetic Sciences, LLC, is that job that looks the most legit on my resume. After adding my job at Kinetic Sciences, and my position in SCU EMS (I‘m not paid for it, but I figure it counts at “Professional Experience”) and updated the dates for this blogging position, my profession experience heading looks mildly anemic instead of truly pathetic like it used to.

I guess growing up is something we all have to do sooner or later; I was hoping it would happen later rather than sooner, but as the Rolling Stones taught up, you can’t always get what you want. I suppose if it had to happen, I’d rather grow up slowly with little signs of ldquo;maturity” like regularly updating my (existent if somewhat pitiful) resume. Since it’s unavoidable, I’ll give you a hint about creating a resume. When I had to compile a resume for the EMT class selection process almost exactly one year ago, I asked my dad for a copy of his resume so I couple at least copy the section headings. Oh yes! That’s right! When it comes to using templates, I’m a big fat cheater, but it was easy and I was pressed for time. Setting up a resume is that hard part. Once you have all the basic sections and you save the dang thing to your hard drive, it’s a pretty simple task to take a look at it every few months and make sure everything’s there and all the dates are correct. Wow, I sound like a guidance counselor don’t I? Trust me; I’m rolling my eyes at myself right now. It’s okay; you can hate my out of reflex too. But hate me all you need to, you’re going to need a resume soon if you don’t already have one and what are you going to do? I’d bet some good money at least one person will ask their dad for a copy of his resume!

Welcome to Kelsey's Day Spa

KBrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 08:01:00 PST

I am so excited to go home. There is one thing I absolutely cannot wait
to do: take a hot bath. I really like taking baths. I guess it’s the
girly side of me; it doesn’t show very often but when it does, it shows
with force. I don’t know if I’ve written about my shower here at school.
How do I describe my shower? Well… it’s the crappiest shower I have ever
had the displeasure to step into. For starters, it’s the handicapped
shower so it’s just a shower curtain, no lip or anything so water sprays
out all over the bathroom floor. Second, the showerhead, which my dad
had to fix when I moved in, had to be attached in such a way that you
can really only stand on one side or the other. And of course, there’s
no tub.

While I was doing all my Christmas shopping online (in bio
class), I found an inexpensive bottle of sandalwood bath salts with free
shipping. So in the holiday spirit, I thought I’d both give and receive
via amazon.com and I bought the bath salts as a Christmas gift to
myself. My parents told me about a week ago that my package arrived and
is now sitting on my desk at home. Apparently, Mom and Dad had to fight
the urge to snoop since both their presents are in that box. I’m very
proud of both of them for resisting the temptation, thought maybe I
should wait to make sure my dad hasn’t performed surgery on the box with
a razor blade. Anyways, I’ve already decided that the first thing I’m
going to do when I get home tomorrow night is slice open that box, grab
my bath salts and relax in a hot bath. After five and a half hours of
flight time, with a two and half hour layover in the Dallas- Fort Worth
airport, I’m going to need some serious pampering. For any guys out
there who’ve made it this far, hot baths are a poor woman’s day spa.
Wanna make it a high class poor woman’s day spa? Add bath salts or bath
milk and a bath pillow and there’s no reason to ever pay to relax.

Even though I’m super excited to go to my own personal “spa” (I
also call it my happy place), I still have a lot to do before my flight
home tomorrow morning. I have to finish laundry so I can finish,
well…actually, start packing. I still have to do some cleaning and
take out the trash my roommates left behind. But not to worry! I have my
happy place to go to when it’s all done with.

Denial. It

KBrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Fri, 11 Dec 2009 07:58:00 PST

I finished my last final this morning. That means I am done.
Completely done. Some people, after a final, stay to chat with
classmates to see what they thought about the difficulty of the exam.
Others immediately consult their notes to see if the answer to question
6 b was meso or disterioisomers. Not me. I made a bee line to Benson and
ordered breakfast. Some people stress and torture themselves about
finals already taken, I will not think about, much less acknowledge the
fact that I was beaten within an inch of my academic life by an Organic
Chemistry final a mere ten hours ago until my grades come out. And maybe
not even then!

I think it’s safe to say I’m in total denial/ avoidance mode.
The next few days will be stress free if I have anything to say about
it, though seeing as I got a flat on my bike today and I had to lug it
to the repair shop on the bus, it’s probably a safe bet that I have
absolutely no say in the amount of stress in my day. Regardless, I am
absolutely refusing to let finals enter my mind as anything more than a
fleeting thought.

Sitting on this bench, freezing my toes off and waiting for the
22 bus to come and whisk me and my burrito home, I cannot possibly
express the relief I am feeling that this quarter is over. It’s time for
me to go home to Indiana and frolic in some precipitation of the frozen
variety. There are, of course, things I miss being away from Santa
Clara. I’ll miss my wonderful roommates (Jenny’s making me cookies) and
Maybe’s sweet little kisses when I take her for walks. As the second AMR
ambulance goes by since I’ve been sitting here, I’m reminded of how much
I’ll miss the EMT squad.

But all these things will still be here when I return in January
and in the meantime, there are plenty of adventures to be had in
Indiana, my first and dearest of homes.

Who Needs Brownies When You've Got Comfort Movies!

kbrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 07:55:00 PST

I’m trying to cope with the stress. I know I’ve only been back at Santa Clara less than two weeks, but these are the most stressful two weeks of the quarter. I’ve been turning to comfort movies; that’s a lot like comfort food with fewer calories; comfort movies leave the same warm feeling in your belly and a smile on your face. To be completely honest, I haven’t been relying completely on comfort movies. I’ve eaten half of a chocolate pudding pie in only two days. What can I say? I’m a bit of a stress eater. But back to my relatively healthy stress reliever: DVDs.

My all time favorite comfort movie is The Dish. It’s an Australian comedy about the satellite dish in Park that captured the television pictures from the Apollo 11 mission. It is a wonderful movie! Every time I watch it, I find something new to laugh at. It’s the rare kind of comedy where the way someone stands is sometimes funnier than what they say. Not only is The Dish funny, it’s quite moving. Ok, you may not find it quite as moving as I do; after all, I’ve had a poster hanging in my room since third grade with pictures of Purdue University graduates in the space program. But the way the movie is put together, the moonwalk makes the viewer feel really connected with the whole world. For the film majors out there, The Dish has amazing camera shots. There really isn’t any way to describe it. You just will have to go to blockbuster and rent it. If you ever get a chance the watch The Dish, I highly recommend it. And yes, I’m well aware all you are going to ignore me. Don’t worry. I’m used to it.

The Iron Giant-been watching this flick since I was a kid

GATTACA- for all the Bio geeks out there

October Sky- another space movie

I am NOT a history major!

KBrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 10:31:00 PST

Finishing the last week of the term before finals involved multiple projects including a 8-10 pg history paper. Unlike the Biology presentation of the Organic Chemistry lab notebook, the history paper caused a ton of agonizing and frustration. You see, this was not your run of the mill research paper. I can handle a research paper; they’re not all that different from the technical papers I’m used to writing. This was not a research paper. It was a historiographical paper. Not only had I never written a historiographical paper, I didn’t even figure out exactly what a historiographical paper was until less than fifteen hour until the paper was due. I had to Google it to find a definition. To get it right, I would have to completely scrap all the work I’d done, restart the research, and write a whole new paper in about thirteen hours. I think we can all agree that I was totally screwed. After all, I’m an engineering, not history, major! I see my next choice as a sign as how I’ve matured (taking into account that I just said ‘screwed’, I think I come out about even). I decided to finish the paper I’d started writing, the way I’d started writing it, turn it in, and move on. If I stressed out about something I couldn’t realistically do anything about, I would only hurt myself in the long run. Plus, if I was confused, you can bet I wasn’t the only one in the class who got it wrong or turned in a crappy paper.

In case anyone’s interested, I turned in the paper on time and promptly threw out all the papers and notes I’d written on the paper. I’ve moved on to studying for the finals and I couldn’t be happier… well, at least I still have all my marbles neatly arranged in my marble bag.

Mom, I Wanna Ride the Choo-Choo!

KBrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Sat, 28 Nov 2009 10:26:00 PST

I love trains! I rode the train back from Salt Lake City to San Francisco at the end of Thanksgiving break. I don’t care that it took seventeen hours; riding the train is so much better than flying! Don’t believe me? I have two words for you: leg room. There are leg rests in coach that raise up flat and if you can get an empty seat next to you (not hard at all), raiding both leg rests lets you stretch out and get a good night’s sleep. I brought a blanket with me and got a solid seven hours. Try doing that on a plane without the help of various chemicals. On long, especially international flights, passengers are taught stretches to do while sitting down to prevent potentially life threatening leg cramps. There’s no such problem on trains. You can get up and move around or take a stroll to the observation lounge or snack car if you like. I got up around nine and mosied down to the dining car for breakfast. I don’t know if any of you have eaten place food; I ate an airline sandwich once and I never want to eat one again. Ever. Compared to plane food, train food is fit for a king! I had a wonderful continental breakfast with oatmeal and milk, sausage, juice, a croissant, yogurt and fresh grapefruit for only $10. The food was wonderful and I got to chat with a nice older couple from San Francisco. I think it was the best breakfast I’d eaten all week!

The good food aside, what I really love about trains is how calming they are. From the very beginning, there is a lack of rush and hassling. After checking in, my parents were able to come on the train with me and help me pick out a seat and store my luggage before kissing me goodbye. Once the train starts to move, I’m always lulled by the gentle swaying and clickity-clack as the train moves over the track. Many, many naps were induced by the movement of the train across the country. Additionally, there are outlets are at every seat! It’s really great not to have to worry about laptop or cell phone battery life like you do on airplanes. I didn’t bring any DVD’s with me because I had homework to do, but I could have watched movies of my own choice all seventeen hours I was on the train without losing power.

I know most people fly because, as uncomfortable as it is, it’s fast. But I will go to my grave swearing that taking the train is the best way to travel!

So& Where are my clothes going to go?

kbrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Fri, 27 Nov 2009 09:00:00 PST

I don’t understand how anyone can be relaxing this break. It has been full of one thing for me: work. My packing prep not only included washing clothes, it included vetting books to bring for the multiple projects and papers that will be due starting Monday next week. My group for the biology project due Wednesday has been communicating via e-mail several times a day; a lack of internet means more than having to go without YouTube, it means falling behind.
When I started packing to come home, I pulled my suit case out from under the bed as usual and set it open on the floor. I hadn’t finished laundry yet so I decided to pile in the various books, binders and tools of academia that I would need over the week to work. They filled up the whole suitcase. I’m not joking. I had to get creative to get everything to fit. I have never wedged socks into so many nooks and crannies before in my life. I did finally get everything tucked in safely. Thank God.
When I got to the airport, I weighed my bag to make sure it wasn’t overweight, not that I could do anything about if it had been. I slipped under the weight limit by less than five pounds. I was so proud of myself! The girl in line ahead of me wasn’t so lucky. She had to pay the extra $50 because of her school books. I was so to check my baggage for free (could you imagine trying to lift a 45 LB bag up into an overhead bin?).
Now I’m slowly working my way through the pile, though it
remains huge. Anyone who’s been snoozing their way through break just isn’t working hard enough. I’ll be getting on a train tomorrow to ride back to Santa Clara and I know what I’ll be doing. That’s right!
Studying!

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

KBrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 02:06:00 PST

Halloween has just passed it seems and already Christmas is announcing its eminent arrival. Somehow Thanksgiving got completely skipped over, much to the relief of the turkeys. My mom sent me a miniature version of my homemade stocking to hang up in the room. Allie and I are going to string up Christmas lights around the room and to give it a festive atmosphere. I got SweetTarts candy canes to hang on the lights. Any bets on how long they last?

We only have a week left here at school before it’s time to fly home for Thanksgiving. After that, we have a week of classes, another of finals and then a whole month home for Christmas. This Thanksgiving, I’m going to my brother’s house in Idaho after spending a couple days at home in Indiana. I’ll be taking the train back to Santa Clara so I have to remember to pack warm clothes for the trip through the mountains. I’m looking forward to every part of the break with the possible exception of the airports I’m going to have to trek though. I’m excited to see my family, including the bun in the oven also known as my niece or nephew. I’ll eat turkey and cranberry sauce, and maybe I’ll get to see some snow on the train ride through the mountains. I love train rides; the rocking back and forth is s incredibly peaceful. Plus, I’ll get to see some weather that actually makes sense for late November/ early December. I’m going to try talk mom into making some Gingerbread cookies. Nothing says Christmas like Gingerbread cookies! I can smell the warm kitchen and fir tree now! I can’t wait to go home!

Opossum Oh Opossum

KBrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 02:03:00 PST

I’ve gone nocturnal. Totally and completely nocturnal. Not the best sleep schedule in a non-nocturnal world, but it has its perks. Last night when I was out and about at around two AM, what I thought at first was the fattest squirrel I‘ve ever seen scared the crap out of me! When I realized there was no way a squirrel could get that big and that a cat would have been much stealthier, I took a closer look at the creature waddling away from me and I realized it was an opossum! It had a bare tail, pointy white face and curious eyes. It was absolutely adorable! I know most people don’t see an opossum and think cute and cuddly, but I’m a big fan of rodent and rodent like creatures. I saw an opossum once before when I was about twelve; it was hanging asleep upside down, asleep in an evergreen tree. It was pretty exciting to see one awake and moving around, but I feel bad that I scare it.

Opossums are my kind of animal; they prefer to kinds chill out and do their own thing, plus thy hang upside down y their tail! That’s just really cool! I really love animals as long time readers may have noticed and I was really happy to have a run in with a furry friend, especially one who doesn’t usually get to see a lot of people. At the very least, I made a new friend, one with a furry head and a naked tail. Rock on Marsupials!

Hippo Birdie Two Ewe!

KBrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 12:03:00 PST

  I turned twenty on Monday. This is the second birthday I’ve spent away from home. I received a beautiful collection of birthday cards from family and friends. Mom and Dad started a tradition of sending me Baklava instead of a birthday cake; the frosting tends to smear all over the bubble wrap. My family sends me letters all the time, but I get so many around birthday; I’m always happy when I go to open my little mailbox.
    My birthday was such a happy day thanks to my family and friends. All day, I was getting calls and text messages from my closest friends, parents, brother, and grandma. My suitemates gave me cards too! In the evening, they brought into the common room a wonderful chocolate birthday cake with my name written on it in yellow icing and everything! There were even birthday candles; with all twenty of them lit, it looked like the whole cake was a flame! I blew them all out with one breath!
    All my birthday cards are lined up on the desk. I smile every time I look at them, especially the one sent by my parents. It’s made by the same artist that made my favorite mug. When I first opened the card, I laughed so hard, I nearly cried! It spells out the Happy Birthday song with the most adorable animals! Look at the picture of it. Aren’t the animals so cute? How can anyone look at that and not smile?
    Aside from out little get together in the common room, I didn’t have a birthday party or anything. It was a Monday and I did have homework to do; our lab notebooks were due in Lab on Tuesday and I had some calculations and commentary to do before the morning. Aside from the chocolate cake and some tea, I had not eaten any dinner. At a quarter till midnight, the only place open for food was the Taco Bell across the street. The lobby had closed at eleven (apparently there are some shady characters at Taco Bell in the early hours) so I had to walk, yes walk, through the drive-thru. I walked back home with my crunch wrap supreme to labor over some Organic Chemistry work and munch away on my dinner. All together, it was a good end to a good birthday.

RIP Flushy

KBrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 12:00:00 PST

On Saturday October 25, 2009, Flushy passed away. For those of you who haven’t heard about my little fishy, I got him last October because I needed a little friend. His bowl sat on my desk for over a year and I would chat while I did my homework. When I went home for little breaks like Thanksgiving or Spring Break, Flushy went to a babysitter and made new friends, but he was always happy to see my when I came back. When summer came, I wasn’t willing to leave my friend behind so my dad drove out to California and we packed up Flushy’s bowl in the car and drove him home across the country to Indiana. At home, he sat on the kitchen counter and the whole family came to love him. After we all drove back to California in September, my dad would call and say that he missed Flushy and kept going into the kitchen to give him a blood worm for a little treat. Flushy loved people. He would get so excited when anyone walked into the room. He was sure everyone was there to see him.
    Towards the end of his life, Flushy had an injured swim bladder and he had trouble swimming. We bought him a little plant that he could sit on so it was easier for him to eat and breath. He became an old little fishy and he was happiest when he was sleeping. He was still a good fish, but he was an old fish. Beta fish only live two to three years; I’d had him for over a year and he was a year old when I got him from the pet store. His time had some and I think he passed away peacefully.
    Fr. John, the resident minister that lives across the hall from me, said some prayers over flushy’s body before we laid him to rest under a tree in the rose garden. I picked out a spot that was quiet, but where people would walk by. He’s buried under the wisteria vine which is so beautiful when it blooms in the spring. I am happy flushy has such a beautiful place to rest.
    I miss you flushy, but I know you’re perfectly buoyant and hunting bloodworms in that fishbowl in the sky.

Everybody Needs People

Kbrunts@scu.edu (Kelsey Brunts) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 01:49:00 PST

It’s raining here. A lot. I’ve gone through three sets of clothes today due to excess moisture. I don’t do well when I’m wet, like cats or squirrels. Man, the squirrels are truly demoralized. Their tails are no longer fluffy; they don’t even bounce across the sidewalks anymore; the sulk under bushed clutching nuts in their little hands. I sympathized with them as I walked back from my early morning Organic Chemistry lab. Tonight I left my dorm to hit the library and finish up studying for my differential equations midterm tomorrow and was instantly enveloped in the cold, damp aftermath of today’s monsoon. I never actually made it to the library. The health center conference room has become the de facto EMT study room after hours; one of the fringe benefits of being on the squad. So here I am with a half dozen other EMTs, a couple on duty but most not, looking over flashcards and attempting to learn from my D. Eq. book via osmosis. Most EMT’s are majors in the sciences on the pre-med track meaning we have to take a lot of the same classes. That means that being on the EMT squad means I have a built in system for help in class work.

It’s very hard to survive college going it alone. When my dad was an undergrad, he joined a fraternity. My dad wasn’t even close to the stereotypical frat boy; I’m pretty sure he initially joined for access to the files on the engineering classes, but he made friends and found study buddies because of his membership in his fraternity. My roommate is on the soccer team so her teammates are constantly in out suite doing homework, watching TV, kicking around a ball and having fun together. Everyone needs a group of people to laugh with, study with, lean on when times get tough and go to Safeway with at three in the morning. Dad’s people were the guys in his fraternity; my roommate’s people are the soccer players; my people are the EMTs. We work together; we laugh together; we Google textbook authors to determine if the sexual innuendo in the text was accidental or intentional. It didn’t happen overnight, (I didn’t have my group until I became as active member of the squad this year) but I’m so glad I have people. Everything is better with people!