Monday, October 31, 2005
If my lifestyle did not necessitate that I work, I would have all the time in the world to devote to a better lifestyle- one that would not involve working. It would instead involve much sleeping, reading, and possible piano-playing. I might also coordinate a movie or two into my new weekly schedule.
Books- those unread of which I possess in daunting quantity- would in my fantasy no-work world be read promptly. I would comprehend the text, quote passages from memory, and integrate them into subsequent class assignments, papers, and research.
If I did not have to work, I would be able to study Greek, German, and Latin more thoroughly, instead of memorizing a principal part here, an irregular nominative form there, five of the dozens of uses for the Latin subjunctive... I would also have the time to pick up Japanese again, as a side project, for I have an audio disk and my community college textbooks as beginning references. I would become fluent in German and Japanese, with reading knowledge of Latin and Greek. I would inform everyone of this, and everyone would be amazed, and I would be offered millions of dollars a year to say remarkable things in German and Japanese and to write brilliant things in Greek and Latin.
The frequency with which my face breaks out in ghastly red zits would substantially be reduced, if I did not have to serve people fried food five nights a week. My face would return to its natural, pasty complexion. Paranthetically, the bags under my eyes would also disappear. People paying for their chicken strips and fries sometimes remark that I look a bit peaked (most use "tired"). I look pooped because I work about thirty-six hours a week. Hilariously, if I had no classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I would probably work more.
My writing would improve if I had more time to write. I would not have to write without contractions and I would not have to write in a voice as monotonous as my real voice to cover up the fact that I cannot write smoothly anymore, if I did not have to work.
I hate my job. I hate my life. I hate the spoiled little brats who come into the place where I work and believe the university pays me six dollars an hour to put up with their crap.
I return from break in five minutes.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 7:17 PM]
Self-Loathing
Sunday, October 30, 2005
I rose early, with the intent to study, like a good little egg. But I did not study. I wasted time walking around campus, staring at things, or looking up various things on the computer. I wrote a letter to my grandpa, which could be counted as an accomplishment, but I took longer composing it than might have been necessary.
Verdammt. I accidentally scratched open a zit, which is now leaking blood. I probably appear a bit gruesome.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 11:27 AM]
You Have Already Failed Your World Dominance Mission
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Last night with the Germans I once again attended Stammtisch. They just concluded certain important graduate exams, and therefore imbibed more alcohol than usual. Das hat mehr Spaß gemacht.
Traci (die Deutscher Klub Präsidentin) and I passed around Deutscher Klub membership e-mail contact sheets, gaining about fifteen or twenty new people. Eike described some plot from a story by Neal Stephenson (of whom I had not heard), so now that I am released from work, I shall journey forthward to the library to sticky-hand one of his novels. The plan is to begin reading that, after I complete my Greek and Latin homework assignments.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 6:14 PM]
Do Not Harm The Women With Stones
Friday, October 28, 2005
After philosophy I did not bother attending Latin, for a) I had not done the assignment, for I had lost it and b) I knew in a class of five other people, falling asleep would be a bit obvious and insulting. I had all good intents of attending swimming class (I had even changed into the suit), but I was too exhausted.
I feel much better this morning, enough to have ellipticized before I shower and study for the Greek quiz. I brought flashcards with noun endings and memorized them in forty minutes, simultaneously burning about four hundred calories. Wee.
The day will be jam-packed with activity:
Greek at ten
German at eleven
a homework swim at noon
ancient sexuality at two
Greek homework at three
German project research at four
Stammtisch at five
reading or more research after Stammtisch
bed time
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 4:36 AM]
Mauschwitz
Thursday, October 27, 2005
After working last night from eight until two in the morning, I read Maus II in its entirety, until about five-thirty. Even then, I reflected that my mind, at least, was completely alert. The recreational center opens at six, and I contemplated jogging over there to ellipticize, but I chose instead to favour my tent bed over the cool air.
I managed to fall asleep, but awoke promptly at seven forty-five to shower, check e-mails, and make copies of the German Club fliers announcing the first meeting (tomorrow). The advisor of the club (Dr. Bonzo) was not around to procure photocopies of my original, so I took it first to the German graduate students (having forgotten that they are severely restricted in their own prints- they have to "order" them in advance, ridiculously enough). One of them, Jan, optimistically directed me to the main office upstairs in the foreign language building, but the secretary lady there glanced at me shrewdly.
'We normally only allow faculty to make copies.'Fortunately, she did make an exception, since I only needed fifteen pages. I would have returned to do the same thing for the Classical Society (I designed fliers for a lecture last night), but I feared she might stone me. I taped the fliers to Dr. Lavigne's door.
On an hour and-a-half of sleep, my eyeballs feel a bit sore (and that may be more from staring at a white computer screen), but I remain unusually alert. Ich verstande es nicht. But I shall now use this opportunity to study for a Greek quiz tomorrow; I did very poorly on the last one.
Of course, when the time arrives for the philosophy lecture at two, my weariness will descend with an alarming severity.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 9:21 AM]
Futuere
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
I must e-mail Deutscher Klub members today about the first underground meeting to occur Friday at Stammtisch. We must meet off-campus until our registration paperwork "goes through", i.e., until some office lady drops it into the file. We thought we had re-registered as a student organization several weeks ago, but 'twould appear something went awry, bureaucratically, and die Präsidentin had to rectify the situation. But after this week, all should be well.
Mein Mund tut mir weh, weil gestern during swimming class we used snorkels, and I believe I had mine positioned in my mouth incorrectly the first half of the hour. It bruised my upper middle lip, ich denke. But otherwise, I rather like the snorkel, for it allows me to crawl without bothering to lift my head out of the water. I kind of sort of forget to do that, sometimes, which usually presents problems.
I finished ellipticizing about twenty minutes ago and felt a bit light-headed, so I probably ought to drink a Powerade or something. Then I shall study for Greek and read part of the next German assignment. Recognizing the narrative vocabulary greatly aids the reading process; I spend much less time looking up words. Certain adverbs I miss completely, but oh, well.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 4:58 AM]
Response Paper Number Two
Monday, October 24, 2005
How does this text help us to better understand the Roman gender system?
The 'Laudatio Turiae' conveys the emotions of an Augustan-era husband at his wife's death with unusual length and distinctively militaristic language, extolling virtues in his wife which would at different times and circumstances normally be ascribed only to men. The inscription demonstrates, then, that within Roman marriage particularly, a wider degree of latitude existed both for males and females as compared with the more deeply inhibitive institutions in Greece several centuries prior, as personified by Xenophon's Ischomachus and Ischomachus' unnamed wife. "Turia" and her husband defy gender concepts of women as either submissive or deceptive and men as the less tender and more enduring sex. The existence of this inscription signifies a Roman recognition of human complexities that Athenian societies would attempt to subjugate.
Ischomachus states that there is "nothing in human life as useful or as fine as orderliness" (317). The intrinsic Greek fear of unruliness permeated its gender system in such ways that male and female servants' quarters were separated by bolted doors, women needed know nothing of the law or economy beyond its domestic applications, and women were tidily passed out of the authority of their fathers to possession by a husband. The Greek wife was kept busy, and thereby chaste, with domestic duties.
Roman society as well pressured females to control "appetite" in a double standard to the expectations for males, but the Roman woman was more often the actor in her affairs; Turia, in her husband's absence, went to live with his mother of her own accord, not by either his commands or any legal actions. Her husband appears unconcerned with the question of her faithfulness, listing "sobriety of attire" and "modesty of appearance" cursorily, with the intent to demonstrate Turia's unique capabilities beyond the merest exemplifications of a "good wife". Men probably had had limited access to Turia, but she herself pursued knowledge of the law and the security of her kin successfully, with her husband explicitly denying any self-recognition in the development of her character. His humility starkly contrasts with Ischomachus' proud proclamation that upon their marriage his wife had no prior knowledge of anything other than the spinning of wool.
Declarations that Turia possessed "ingenuity", "courage", and "admirable endurance" attribute to her the traits of virtus reserved for the ideal Roman male, but for which the eulogist venerates his wife. To him her femininity appears uncompromised by her aggressiveness, marshaled forth by her unusual position in history. Her inability to conceive children- the first goal, according to Ischomachus, of Greek marriage- distressed her so that she offered to divorce her husband in order to preserve his status. His subsequent horror and refusal to allow her to sacrifice her happiness emphasizes the forthrightness of his actions in accordance with his emotions; his public lament at having no offspring concerns only an absence of others with whom to grieve Turia’s loss, rather than as a failing on her part to provide him caretakers.
The concluding paragraphs of the inscription furnish the most telling evidence of operations within the Roman gender system, for they convey in stone the admission of the surviving husband of his reliance on the strength of his wife, his loss of self-control to sorrow, and his self-discovered incapability to "stand firm" against two overwhelming emotions- "grief" and "fear". On any Greek monument such a display would have been inconceivable, and its presence at a peak in the Roman age dispels any contemporary criticisms of gender as minor to expressions of romantic love between husband and wife.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 7:07 AM]
Drei Ecken
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Am Montag habe ich an ancient sexuality paper due. The text about which I am writing is from a funerary inscription of the Augustan age. Die Frage ist: "How does this text help us to better understand the Roman gender system?"
I wrote nearly half of the paper, but it feels weak, so I may revamp the entire thing. I have encountered that difficulty of "I see many things, but I may only include enough for about two pages". This is worse than trying to expand something.
Then I must write a philosophy paper, which I suspect might be simpler, and complete the take-home Latin midterm. For the latter, I must extract all fifty nouns from a certain passage we've translated, stating case, gender, and function. This should present few problems, for I happened to be present in class when Dr. Holland reviewed the text. I scribbled many notes in the margins.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 8:12 AM]
Sie Sind Nicht Hier
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Most of the student population left for the weekend, either to attend the UT game or to visit their parents. Facilities around campus that are open have shortened hours, which unfortunately affects my own work schedule not in the slightest, for my Sam's is the one that never closes, natürlich.
I brought material to the computer lab so that I might type my sexuality and philosophy essays, only to recall that this lab doesn't print on weekends, nor do these computers accept my pen drive. This requires that I pen these essays at work, while I am serving the hundreds of students who are not here.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 8:05 AM]
Not As I Remembered
Thursday, October 20, 2005
In San Antonio when I was a teeny-tiny (back in the day when The Father loved me, or made a more whole-hearted show of pretending he did), The Father used to take me to Mr. Gatti's, where we would sit eating cinnamon sticks for about fifteen minutes as our pizza order baked. Years later, The Father told me he would talk to the [female] manager, but I do not recall him talking to anyone, probably because I was busy focusing on the cinnamon sticks or the strange environment full of people foreign to my usual form of nuclear-family social exposure. Mayhaps he was having an affair with The Mr. Gatti's Lady, and I was his cute bait.
Last night I went to a Mr. Gatti's in Lubbock for a Gamma Beta Phi mass meeting, which differed from the childhood Mr. Gatti's in that the food was terrible (with the exception of the cheese sticks, which were muy bueno), the colours were over-bright, there was no sports bar, the game room was gigantic, and there were definitely no affairs to be had. Jared and I wandered in search of a decent crane game, but these as well were in meager supply, "meager" indicating "a poorly-stocked box next to the party room". It contained a few depressed teddy bears, but I made no attempt to rescue them.
Before classes I need to
outline a paper for the ancient sexuality classAt seven tonight I reserved a racquetball court wherein Kelley, Jeremy and I shall play. They both are much more advanced than I am, but hopefully they will still enjoy themselves. Watching me attempt any sort of sport, I imagine, probably is quite entertaining.
finish some Latin composition sentences
memorize the endings of Greek contract verbs
download the next ancient sexuality reading
read the next German reading section
outline a philosophy response essay
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 7:12 AM]
Sweating Out Toxins
Monday, October 17, 2005
Yesterday I made German flashcards before lunch, which consumed more time than usual, for though I initially sat solo, a girl from my swimming class (Becky) joined me as I picked at some pecan pie.
Becky wants to study theology at the graduate level (Tech has no theology/religions program, to speak of), but figures for undergraduate studies to minor in classics, with a probable history or philosophy major. Since I also know about all three (I had considered a General Studies major that would have been a combination of those exact three minors), we discussed classics extensively. She is as well a bit of a babbler, so I actually had competition to squeeze in my babbling. This contest she had no awareness of was quite fun for me, except for the fact that she won.
I finally realized my images appear if I simply host them on my old GeoCities account. Ausgezeichnet.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 4:55 AM]
The Throat Hurts
Sunday, October 16, 2005
At Stammtisch the person sitting next to me blew his smoke on my face the entire time his cigarette was lit. I am aware that when one dines at a bar, one may expect some amount of smoke inhalation, but I found it more than a little irritating that this young fellow did not bother apologizing, or attempting to move, or even waving the smoke out of my face. I should have burped my breath, which may at times be more toxic than cigarette smoke, in his face, the dousche.
Last night after work I did laundry and began German vocabulary flashcards, beginning at der Adlige, "nobleman". I assigned gender signifiers: der words are blue, die words are fuschia (the red marker ran out of ink long ago), and das words are a neutral grey. Verbs will probably be orange.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 9:19 AM]
Tired After Nine Hours Of Sleep
Saturday, October 15, 2005
Something about toilets historically has motivated me to creative action. Ich weiß nicht warum.
I must complete a Greek assignment, read for philosophy, work, ellipticize, and sleep, in that order.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 7:11 AM]
Yesterday Was Tumultuous
Friday, October 14, 2005
My former roommate's mother sent a Halloween care package. I carried it down the hall to my room with tears in my eyes, then burst out laughing when I opened it to find the box stuffed entirely with candy, as though at that moment I truly needed that sort of thing. Amy's mother also included a nice letter, telling me I should feel accomplished having spent nine months living with her daughter. I do.
I had arisen at six and read for German class through most of the day; thus also feeling somewhat depressed I took a nap through philosophy and Latin (I knew I wouldn't miss anything major). I felt much better afterward, and did then go to swimming class, if only to be counted for having attended. People were doing group presentations, but only two groups were scheduled, so we all left early.
I encountered William Balch on the walk back to my dorm, and he distracted me for a solid fifty minutes with a long, pleasant rant about the Texas Tech bell tower's inadequacies. He spoke quite reverently about a few organ professors and a renowned carillon player who are making Tech appearances soon. William is absolutely adorable when he gets animated, and I almost wanted to hug him.
After we parted I finished reading, then took my Greek flashcards to study while I ellipticized. I thought about chanting the paradigms out loud, but apparently I am not quite as uninhibited as I seem sometimes, for I refrained.
Today went more smoothly: I woke up, studied for Greek, went to Greek and German classes, studied for sexuality, took the ancient sexuality exam, and am now preparing to vanish to read for leisure before I go to Stammtisch at five.
But tomorrow I work. Ugh.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 1:16 PM]
Stress Balls
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
'Twould appear the picture host I used deleted my account, for I had not signed on in more than a month. Schade. I must seek out the box in which my picture CDs are stored.
I also have to find Civilization III for some German guy to install on his computer. I thought it might be in my movie box, but the only items in my movie box are my old movies. I did pull out Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory for Eike, who informed me he had not seen the original when I informed him the Johnny Depp version was a catastrophic flop.
Tonight before work I must scoop ice cream as a fundraising service event for the honors society of which I am a member. I imagine my dialogues will run something to the extent of, "One scoop for you... one scoop for me... one scoop for you... another for me..."
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 7:05 AM]
Passiv-aggressiv
Monday, October 10, 2005
Da ist ein Jugend, der ein Dusch ist. Ich habe seine Name aus ein Stuck Papier geschriebt. Sie ist russisch. This little boy comes into work every night for corn dogs and behaves quite rudely to everyone working there, as though we were born to serve him alone.
The dorm complex my minimart serves consists of three buildings: one co-ed, plus one for female freshmen and another for male freshmen. On the whole this freshman class is rude, obnoxious, coddled, and abrasive (in addition to many English expletives that I shan't bother here enumerating). They think I earn six dollars an hour and work four eight-hour shifts a week to contend with their snobby ignorance, and I have already this semester had to clarify my position in passive terms.
I would key all the Lexuses in the parking lot, but these brats' parents would only buy them another one for me to defile.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 11:35 AM]
Der Arbeit Saugt Hart
Sunday, October 09, 2005
My school's massive career fair occurs Wednesday, for which I need to print up a nice resume in the hopes of landing a decent summer internship or something somewhere. I rather wish I was male, sometimes, so that I might work a construction job for the summer, earn muy dinero, and take a lighter job during the academic year. But no... I am merely a girl, with poor upper-arm strength, even for a girl. Plus, I do not measure or level things. That may explain why everything I build falls to pieces.
At noon I put away my laundry, then dressed out to ellipticize. Upon exiting the building, I discovered that the sky was falling raindrops, the heavy kind that hurt like airborne foreign government propaganda. My dorm lies on the far opposite side of campus, so I sidetracked to my place of employment to break my fast and wait for the rain to cease. However, it has not slackened, and I work in an hour, so I must reluctantly vanish presently to ready myself.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 11:35 AM]
Er War Heute Nicht Hier
Friday, October 07, 2005
Some freshman boy in the ancient sexuality class always brings in the laptop his mommy and daddy bought for him, to play some obnoxious game with many loud, laser sound-effects and much key-clacking. I want to give his face a clacking... with my fist. Much to the relief of my severely strained nerves, he apparently played hooky from class this afternoon, as did another half of the class. I missed them not.
The mushroom pizza I ate for lunch made my breath smell like the mushroom pizza I ate for lunch. I might have to neutralize this unpleasantness with a mocha smoothie, imbibed as I complete Greek homework and begin the next dreaded German reading. I feel more confident about the readings, having built up a bit more vocabulary and become more aware of the nuances of German writing style (at least as it is presented in a stilted, American-textbook fashion), but it consumes much more time than I have readily available. Time is an elusive enemy that I must somehow annihilate.
The German and philosophy exams were both complete flops, in my overall exam-test-taking career. Der Bonzo indicated that everyone did well on his exam, but the topics we responded to were nearly all obscure references from the text. I believe I may have confused the role of Friedrich die Weise with the accomplishments of the Enlightenment ruler, Friedrich I. The first two sections had to be responded to completely auf Deutsch, with the last essay, more over-arching, to be written in English. Haggled as I was by the previous forty minutes of expressing vague answers to questions in a language that I do not fluently speak, my English sentences were probably even less comprehensible. Scheisse.
For the philosophy essay exam, I studied everything I did not know well- Hume, Locke, their critics' responses- and was met, naturally, with everything we had studied at the beginning of the semester. I understood all of that, but did not elaborate nearly as much as I could have. The only response I felt relatively confident about was the one about Descartes' "evil demon" scenario.
The University apparently sent every professor a memo to inform students about the on-campus depression screenings for Depression Awareness Week. Der Bonzo mentioned it, and noted that the memo even stipulated that professors could offer extra credit points as an incentive to draw students in.
Knowing what this latest exam might contribute to my stellar GPA, I went and filled out a screening form. The lady I handed it to said she would have to do a little math with my responses in order to analyze them. Then, when she actually looked at my answers, she muttered, "Oh, I do have some math here." How reassuring- I'm probably bipolar.
Unfortunately, I am not bipolar, only moderately depressed. The nice lady recommended I utilize Tech's student counseling services. Paranthetically, I feel that if Tech lowered its tuition rate and other miscellaneous charges, the students utilizing its counseling services would substantially decrease. In my case, I doubt much benefit would come from losing more time that I do not have to have someone tell me things about myself that I already know but either have not changed or cannot conceivably change without cooperation from people within the wider world. Plus, I don't necessarily mind crying, but I do feel, however irrationally, that doing it in front of other people somehow makes me less of a man.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 1:25 PM]
So I Did
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Meine deutsche Kulturkurs Prüfung war sehr hässlich. Es tut mir weh. Jetzt muss ich Philosophie studieren, danach ich mache lateinischen Hausaufgaben. Um vierzehn Uhr mache ich eine Philosophie Prüfung. Es ist meistens über Sokrates, die Sophisten, Descartes, Hume, und Locke. Ich weiss wohl Sokrates und Descartes, aber ich muss Hume lesen. Es saugt.
I abandoned work early last night, for I was very sehr tired, both from having been awake since six and from swimming with JPat around four-thirty in the afternoon. The heat yesterday was unnatural, with sweat stains forming under my backpack straps.
Ich bin schon sehr müde.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 7:06 AM]
Ich Kann Nicht Deutsch
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Dr. Bonzo mentioned something about a blue book being requisite for the exam tomorrow, which seems to indicate this exam consists of essays rather than the usual multiple choice format. Das saugt. I have crammed for this exam all day, breaking for Latin class (skipping philosophy) and swimming (which I needed to attend, if only to acquire an attendance point).
I felt relatively energetic, enough to make progress and remain awake through this studying business, but swimming makes me a little pooped afterward.
Today in Latin I learned "weird" uses of the genitive:
pudet me tui- I am ashamed of you
me taedet vitae- I am weary of life
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 4:52 PM]
A Baumschmerzen... Of The Worst Kind
Monday, October 03, 2005
The combination of debilitating stomach and menstrual cramps has continued unabated since Thursday. It allowed me to take more breaks at work this weekend (male student supervisors turn to JELL-O at the phrase "I am menstruating"), but it gave me no leave from work, unfortunately.
Letzte Abend arbeitete ich von drei bis elf Uhr. Danach spieltete ich das Computer bis um eins Uhr. Ich schlaftete.
But not for long did I sleep, for I then arose at six to do laundry and ellipticize. I read the newspaper as my laundry dried, rushed through a shower, and arrived at Greek one minute late. I had German next, and then I ate an unhealthy lunch while I copied my Greek homework.
Returning to the foreign language for ancient gender and sexuality class, I discovered it has once again been cancelled. As I am burned out from working all weekend, I shall return to the Lauree Lair for a nap (hopefully; it will more likely become a long doze). Then I have to swim, and then I return to work, which is where I really live.
Humberto, a new employee at my place of employment, expressed astonishment at my revelation to him that I dread my life. His seems pretty well-founded, but mine is a nightmare.
The menstrual cycle is a nightmare.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 11:59 AM]
This Had Better Print
Sunday, October 02, 2005
"Deine Muti hat mir gut geschmeckt" wurde für eine ausgezeichnet[-e?-en?] T-shirt macht.
Deutscher Klub officers met for the first time Friday before Stammtisch to discuss shirts and dues and events and suchlike. I suggested we hold a potluck sort of banquet (charge only people who bring no food), which Dr. Bonzo then tacked on to the annual Oktoberfest to make that more interesting. The club has also been charged with rebuilding the puppets the department uses for its Weihnachsfest at a local elementary school. I suspect this project will prove to be something done entirely by the officers, which would be ganz nicht gut, als wir haben keine Zeit.
After Stammtisch I had planned to bum a ride from Kelly, but she and Jeremy did not make an appearance, so I agreed to go to the Lubbock fair afterward with a girl named Bonnie, in exchange for a ride back to the dorm. She suckered Eike into going, and another German (someone from our class) rode along as well. Bonnie went bananas for the rides, and we three followed her around munching various fried foods that had been put on sticks. Eike was attracted to the fried cheese-on-a-stick booth, which sounded least offensive to my stomach (which had been aching all day), so I chose the pepper jack. Es schmeckt mir gut.
I would have ridden the rides, death traps though they were, but I still had a severe Baumschmerzen. Earlier Friday morning (nach Schule) Eike passed me and asked, "Wie geht's?", to which I responded confidently, "Ich habe ein Baumschmerzen". A "Schmerzen" is an ache: Zahnschmerzen is "toothache", Kopfschmerzen is "headache", et cetera. What I told Eike translates to "I have a tree-ache". I meant to say, "Ich habe ein Bauchschmerzen", a stomache-ache.
I did not explain further that this Baumschmerzen involves a stomache-ache (I spent more time in the bathroom Friday than I did in class) plus debilitating menstrual cramps. I have had this Baumschmerzen all weekend, and I rather wish it would disappear.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 9:03 AM]