Time's really gotten away from me. I can't believe December is already so far advanced, but a lot's been going on, so it sort of makes sense that I'm this far forward from the last time I got to be reflective.
Been a vegetarian for a whole year now. Keep waiting for the skinnification to happen, but I get bored waiting, and bored and brownies start with the same letter if you know what I'm saying. I'm just not a good waiter.
Got to go to Florida twice in November. Saw best friend both times, which was much needed. Of course we're flying south for Christmas, so I get more Hannahtime this month, too! Thank goodness the holidays have all conveniently arranged themselves right as I was about to go all twitch from bff withdrawal. Bffdrawal? I like it.
Because we'll be in Florida for Christmas, we decided early on not to invest in a tree. But I've been pining for a wreath. A girl's gotta have something that smells like Christmas that doesn't melt or spray out of a can. But the paycheck I was going to splurge on a wreath with was pledged to other things early, and I wasn't able to do it. Tonight after we (he) successfully parallel parked a half dozen times, Josh got us a wreath. It's beautiful, it smells like a Christmas forest, and the cats are going bonkers trying to get up the wall to eat it. Life is good.
Part of the reason that last paycheck was promised out already is that I wanted to split the cost of our trip to and from Florida. We rented a car and of course there's the gas cost that goes along with that. So now I've reimbursed Josh for half the trip's gas, and that feels good. Not as good as having money to spend, but there's satisfaction to be derived from this. Is what I told myself.
Hours got upped at work (they like me! they really like me!), so hopefully that unexpected windfall will be helpful for wedding expenses and other stuff.
Graduate school application is in. Second time's the charm? Please, please please.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Blog (noun) as a tool for fixing all that is warbly with the world
So I post about wanting to get married and Josh proposes. I post about being all kinds of wigged out about graduate school in part because I can't get anyone at the library to talk to me about volunteering and I think my professor loves another Alex more than she loves me and the guy from the library emails me the next day and the next weekend I see my professor and she still loves me. Jury is out on whether she loves me best, but even I know she's allowed to love other people.
I also know that reads a little creepy. I mean it as a joke.
Anyway. Life is aligning and I realized as I was updating everyone at my story class get together on Sunday that I was describing life as "sweet" lately and it's true. So now I just need to get going on my graduate school application. Oyyyyyyyyyy.
I also know that reads a little creepy. I mean it as a joke.
Anyway. Life is aligning and I realized as I was updating everyone at my story class get together on Sunday that I was describing life as "sweet" lately and it's true. So now I just need to get going on my graduate school application. Oyyyyyyyyyy.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Thoughts (second, third...) and Waffles (waffling, rather)
I'm not sure about library school. I want to be a librarian, I want to work in a library, I want to help people find the things they need. I don't want to give up. But i feel like I'm getting all these siigns that it isn't the best thing, maybe, despite all the hope I had (and have).
I volunteered at an event at the library in Middleton before we moved, and it was great. I knew we would be moving soon, so I didn't set up volunteering to do shelving and stuff like that. I now wish I had, because I've been trying for nearly a month to start volunteering at the library that's close to us and I'm getting no response after the initial "Thank you, I will forward your information to the person who handles that sort of thing." I hate being whiny about this and I looked up the guy's email address on the city website and emailed him directly... No response. He could be out of town. But if I don't hear from him soon, I'm not sure what to do. The most specific instruction I got from the school was that volunteering in a library would help my application. I'm not sure if going to the library and asking for him or explaining the situation and asking for someone else is appropriate, but tic toc, tic toc.
There's also a really pitiful pride issue: there's another Alex, who is gorgeous and comfortable in her own skin and super competent and even while I'm crazy jealous of her I like her, too. But the professor who taught us over the summer seems to like her better. It could very well be that they've just got more to talk about (that Alex is already in SLIS, she's been writing for a very long time, I dunno, she's perfect...)-- and even if the professor does like her better, it's no reason to not apply. People do like me there. The students in my summer class were great, and even Alex said taking a class as a special and reapplying was almost a surefire way to be admitted. I think my ego was hoping that everyone would be so impressed with me they'd just love me best from the get go. I know that's childish. I don't know how to express that this was my hope and expectation but not really something I'm shocked didn't play out.
I think the volunteer thing has me most discouraged. I've always been nervous about dealing with new people, and the not knowing whether they will respond well or ill to persistence. I fret over that way more than can be good for myself or poor Josh, who has to deal with a me that's so anxious. After last year's application the person in charge of application updates emailed everyone saying (politely) "CALM THE FUCK DOWN, WE WILL EMAIL YOU WHEN WE HAVE MADE DECISIONS" and I was so glad that I'd just waited for word and not prodded them. It helps in this case that there was a deadline by which I knew I'd hear something. But in the wider world, where there are no deadlines, choosing my words is hard.
There's also this job, which is by no means a job I want to hold for the rest of my life, but it's a good job, and the people in the office treat and pay me well. I've felt like rushing the past few years as much as possible in the interest of getting to be up here and be with Josh so we could start our life (in the same place) together, and since we're going to be getting married next year and that's going to take some cash to do justice, regardless of size, I feel like it would be prudent to wait. I could apply and defer admission for a year, the school gives you that option. We're not going to try to have a child until after I'm finished with graduate school (and it would be prudent to work first). I think this shift of thought from must get done on to the next one go go go! to alright, well, in the future is big, and since I'm so emotionally wrapped up in this library school thing I can't tell if the shift is really happening or if it's a way I'm trying to fool myself.
And there's also the whole concept of study. I was free to major in whatever I wanted for my undergraduate degree because there isn't a bachelor's focus requirement to go on and get a master's in library and information studies. So I studied anthropology and really enjoyed it. I know now that if I'd studied education I might have been able to pair my (one day? hopefully?) master's degree with a teaching certificate and work as a school librarian, which is an idea I like. I want to work in a public library and I'd like to work with youth services, but a school library gig sounds really nice. I don't regret my anthropology major. But I want to make sure whatever I graduate study is the right decision. There are museum studies programs at other schools, and I don't want to dismiss them as pipe dreams, since my time studying anthropology might have been better spent focusing on something else. I want to know about and support archaeology and other anthropological pursuits, but I don't dream about being an Egyptologist anymore.
I want this to be a well-considered decision and to be as comfortable about it as I can. At the moment I'm all over the place about it. I'm miserable that library school suddenly doesn't seem a highly desirable thing, and I'm trying to figure out the best way to proceed. I wrote earlier that I don't want to give up, and I don't. Maybe I need to just focus on that and not give up, and commit to pestering the library until I get a response.
But there's that part of me that I'm not sure is scared or smart that says maybe I need to give up.
In general, not sure what to do.
I volunteered at an event at the library in Middleton before we moved, and it was great. I knew we would be moving soon, so I didn't set up volunteering to do shelving and stuff like that. I now wish I had, because I've been trying for nearly a month to start volunteering at the library that's close to us and I'm getting no response after the initial "Thank you, I will forward your information to the person who handles that sort of thing." I hate being whiny about this and I looked up the guy's email address on the city website and emailed him directly... No response. He could be out of town. But if I don't hear from him soon, I'm not sure what to do. The most specific instruction I got from the school was that volunteering in a library would help my application. I'm not sure if going to the library and asking for him or explaining the situation and asking for someone else is appropriate, but tic toc, tic toc.
There's also a really pitiful pride issue: there's another Alex, who is gorgeous and comfortable in her own skin and super competent and even while I'm crazy jealous of her I like her, too. But the professor who taught us over the summer seems to like her better. It could very well be that they've just got more to talk about (that Alex is already in SLIS, she's been writing for a very long time, I dunno, she's perfect...)-- and even if the professor does like her better, it's no reason to not apply. People do like me there. The students in my summer class were great, and even Alex said taking a class as a special and reapplying was almost a surefire way to be admitted. I think my ego was hoping that everyone would be so impressed with me they'd just love me best from the get go. I know that's childish. I don't know how to express that this was my hope and expectation but not really something I'm shocked didn't play out.
I think the volunteer thing has me most discouraged. I've always been nervous about dealing with new people, and the not knowing whether they will respond well or ill to persistence. I fret over that way more than can be good for myself or poor Josh, who has to deal with a me that's so anxious. After last year's application the person in charge of application updates emailed everyone saying (politely) "CALM THE FUCK DOWN, WE WILL EMAIL YOU WHEN WE HAVE MADE DECISIONS" and I was so glad that I'd just waited for word and not prodded them. It helps in this case that there was a deadline by which I knew I'd hear something. But in the wider world, where there are no deadlines, choosing my words is hard.
There's also this job, which is by no means a job I want to hold for the rest of my life, but it's a good job, and the people in the office treat and pay me well. I've felt like rushing the past few years as much as possible in the interest of getting to be up here and be with Josh so we could start our life (in the same place) together, and since we're going to be getting married next year and that's going to take some cash to do justice, regardless of size, I feel like it would be prudent to wait. I could apply and defer admission for a year, the school gives you that option. We're not going to try to have a child until after I'm finished with graduate school (and it would be prudent to work first). I think this shift of thought from must get done on to the next one go go go! to alright, well, in the future is big, and since I'm so emotionally wrapped up in this library school thing I can't tell if the shift is really happening or if it's a way I'm trying to fool myself.
And there's also the whole concept of study. I was free to major in whatever I wanted for my undergraduate degree because there isn't a bachelor's focus requirement to go on and get a master's in library and information studies. So I studied anthropology and really enjoyed it. I know now that if I'd studied education I might have been able to pair my (one day? hopefully?) master's degree with a teaching certificate and work as a school librarian, which is an idea I like. I want to work in a public library and I'd like to work with youth services, but a school library gig sounds really nice. I don't regret my anthropology major. But I want to make sure whatever I graduate study is the right decision. There are museum studies programs at other schools, and I don't want to dismiss them as pipe dreams, since my time studying anthropology might have been better spent focusing on something else. I want to know about and support archaeology and other anthropological pursuits, but I don't dream about being an Egyptologist anymore.
I want this to be a well-considered decision and to be as comfortable about it as I can. At the moment I'm all over the place about it. I'm miserable that library school suddenly doesn't seem a highly desirable thing, and I'm trying to figure out the best way to proceed. I wrote earlier that I don't want to give up, and I don't. Maybe I need to just focus on that and not give up, and commit to pestering the library until I get a response.
But there's that part of me that I'm not sure is scared or smart that says maybe I need to give up.
In general, not sure what to do.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
The Dress Indeed (pieces at peace)
Bought my wedding dress today. I looked through preownedweddingdresses.com (do it, getting-married girls!) for what I imagine was more or less a day's worth of cumulative time, and on a whim, not very invested at all, I found the dress. For $75. On Craigslist. And somehow Fortune smiled on this Craigslist transaction in a way she often does not, because I have a beautiful dress hanging in my closet as I type this out for us all, gentle readers. It's even got the bustle buttons and loops put on already! Will take it to be cleaned this week.
I look better in ivory than I do in white, so I was worried about the color (even looked up dying it at home), but I think it looks pretty good on. Going to need to work in the coming months to even out my skin tone, but the beads are all sewn on, the sparkly bits are all there... I am very, very excited. I will be Zumbaing like a motherfucker for a while to whittle myself down and probably investing in some 'spensive undergarments to keep the jiggly parts where they should be.
But in the end, I found a dress, I found it easy, it is perfect, and I feel beautiful in it in a way I think a little piece of me worried I wouldn't because I didn't deserve to. And while that may be the case, the rest of the pieces of me are at peace with how this worked out. I'm feeling like Fortune smiled. I am smiling, too.
I look better in ivory than I do in white, so I was worried about the color (even looked up dying it at home), but I think it looks pretty good on. Going to need to work in the coming months to even out my skin tone, but the beads are all sewn on, the sparkly bits are all there... I am very, very excited. I will be Zumbaing like a motherfucker for a while to whittle myself down and probably investing in some 'spensive undergarments to keep the jiggly parts where they should be.
But in the end, I found a dress, I found it easy, it is perfect, and I feel beautiful in it in a way I think a little piece of me worried I wouldn't because I didn't deserve to. And while that may be the case, the rest of the pieces of me are at peace with how this worked out. I'm feeling like Fortune smiled. I am smiling, too.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Of Lannisters, and Oatmeal, and of Oofs.
If I just get to the other side of this weekend, I'll have it made. But of course I have to get to and through the weekend for that, and sometimes I am struck with doubt that this will happen, because time gets swiggly-wiggly* and it's hard to know quite how long it will feel like before this is all done. The nice thing about time is that I do know how much of it I have to get through before the weekend is done. So that's a start.
I'm working at the hotel this weekend, and it's a home game weekend, and I'm less than thrilled. You can probably tell.
Office job is going well. Busy busy busy, but that's fine with me. I wonder sometimes (is it a daydream if the dream is sort of dull?) about not doing library school and just working office jobs instead. Accountants always seem to have jobs. I would be a crap accountant. Bah. A lot of it comes down to being scared to start my application essay, and the rest is laziness. I do want to be a librarian, and I know I have to work for it and then work as it.
We've been reading the A Song of Ice and Fire books. I bought us the first book and then before it got here I bought a set of the first four paperbacks so we could read right along, and it worked well. I finished the second book last night and Josh finished the first today, so we haven't had any unpleasant "HurryupIwanttoreadthat!" moments. We agree that the Lannisters aside from Tyrion are meant to be hated. I hope Arya survives--it seems like she will-- and I hope Theon gets exactly what's coming to him. And Joffrey. I already know Joffrey does (look, sometimes a girl has to know these things, and that is what the internet is for!), so I just hope it's as bad an end as he is a person. I hope Sansa gets stronger and smarter and I hope Bran and Rickon stay okay. I am inclined to think they should all bow down before Dany but highly doubt they will. Damn.
So, Lannisters bad. Oatmeal good! I finally tried it, and it's been the perfect breakfast for the cool mornings we've been waking up to. Sometimes it warms up and sometimes it doesn't. It's usually at least a little windy, so we've opened up the windows when we get home almost every day. Ah, apartment! Furnished! Josh bought us a beautiful fancy table and a REALLY nice bedroom set. I type this entry from atop our fanfuckingtastic mattress. It is amazing. I hope we do not lose our jobs, because if we do not get a mattress this nice the next time we need a mattress I will be so sad.
I love you, first world. You are wicked and awful in many ways, but I love this bed and I love the man that bought it for us to share and I love our nice apartment where we can feel safe and do as we please.
Trying to be more active lately. Signed up for a Zumba class which was great the first week (when the regular instructor was stuck at home with a chicken poxy kid) and then... less than stellar, when she came back. I'll go to the rest of the classes since I've paid for them, but I don't think I'll sign up for others at the studio. I'm hoping to find other classes, maybe an independent instructor like the one I liked in Florida. So that's the oof bit of this entry-- I don't know if it's because she's from the midwest (and here I thought I was assimilating so well), or because she hasn't taught much Zumba before, but her rhythm is... well, off, if there at all, and the moves are dumb. I want to Zumba, dammit! Shake shake shake, sweat sweat sweat! Coo coooooooooo!
Life goes on.
*There are Piggly Wiggly stores up here (I thought they were only in Georgia). The accountant at work made a note for me this morning: "Please mail Pig Wig checks separately." I love pig in a wig jokes so I almost died laughing and now I will always think of Piggly Wiggly stores as being staffed by Pigs in Wigs. And may our precious porcine lord be with you all.
I'm working at the hotel this weekend, and it's a home game weekend, and I'm less than thrilled. You can probably tell.
Office job is going well. Busy busy busy, but that's fine with me. I wonder sometimes (is it a daydream if the dream is sort of dull?) about not doing library school and just working office jobs instead. Accountants always seem to have jobs. I would be a crap accountant. Bah. A lot of it comes down to being scared to start my application essay, and the rest is laziness. I do want to be a librarian, and I know I have to work for it and then work as it.
We've been reading the A Song of Ice and Fire books. I bought us the first book and then before it got here I bought a set of the first four paperbacks so we could read right along, and it worked well. I finished the second book last night and Josh finished the first today, so we haven't had any unpleasant "HurryupIwanttoreadthat!" moments. We agree that the Lannisters aside from Tyrion are meant to be hated. I hope Arya survives--it seems like she will-- and I hope Theon gets exactly what's coming to him. And Joffrey. I already know Joffrey does (look, sometimes a girl has to know these things, and that is what the internet is for!), so I just hope it's as bad an end as he is a person. I hope Sansa gets stronger and smarter and I hope Bran and Rickon stay okay. I am inclined to think they should all bow down before Dany but highly doubt they will. Damn.
So, Lannisters bad. Oatmeal good! I finally tried it, and it's been the perfect breakfast for the cool mornings we've been waking up to. Sometimes it warms up and sometimes it doesn't. It's usually at least a little windy, so we've opened up the windows when we get home almost every day. Ah, apartment! Furnished! Josh bought us a beautiful fancy table and a REALLY nice bedroom set. I type this entry from atop our fanfuckingtastic mattress. It is amazing. I hope we do not lose our jobs, because if we do not get a mattress this nice the next time we need a mattress I will be so sad.
I love you, first world. You are wicked and awful in many ways, but I love this bed and I love the man that bought it for us to share and I love our nice apartment where we can feel safe and do as we please.
Trying to be more active lately. Signed up for a Zumba class which was great the first week (when the regular instructor was stuck at home with a chicken poxy kid) and then... less than stellar, when she came back. I'll go to the rest of the classes since I've paid for them, but I don't think I'll sign up for others at the studio. I'm hoping to find other classes, maybe an independent instructor like the one I liked in Florida. So that's the oof bit of this entry-- I don't know if it's because she's from the midwest (and here I thought I was assimilating so well), or because she hasn't taught much Zumba before, but her rhythm is... well, off, if there at all, and the moves are dumb. I want to Zumba, dammit! Shake shake shake, sweat sweat sweat! Coo coooooooooo!
Life goes on.
*There are Piggly Wiggly stores up here (I thought they were only in Georgia). The accountant at work made a note for me this morning: "Please mail Pig Wig checks separately." I love pig in a wig jokes so I almost died laughing and now I will always think of Piggly Wiggly stores as being staffed by Pigs in Wigs. And may our precious porcine lord be with you all.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
The Dress
A few years ago I married a man I didn't really want to marry. I wore the most beautiful dress in the world to do it, and as I look at websites now that I am in the market for another dress to wear when I marry the man I really, really want to marry, I occasionally see that first dress. And oh, I feel the weight of my mistake, I do and I have, but this has got to be one of the stupidest first world ways a girl ever screwed herself: the most beautiful dress in the world squandered on a wedding that didn't matter the way it was supposed to.
Fuuuuuuuck.
(I know I will find a more beautiful dress and I know I will be more beautiful and truly happy when I marry Josh. But och aye christ I wish I could have found that beautiful Oleg Cassini to wear for our wedding.)
(Resolving not to fuck up further.)
(Also resolving to cut back on the foul language.)
Fuuuuuuuck.
(I know I will find a more beautiful dress and I know I will be more beautiful and truly happy when I marry Josh. But och aye christ I wish I could have found that beautiful Oleg Cassini to wear for our wedding.)
(Resolving not to fuck up further.)
(Also resolving to cut back on the foul language.)
Home, Heart, Being in a Place
I'm bestfriendsick. I'm not really homesick even though there's a lot that I miss in Florida. I love it up here too much to be sad about not being there, I think. But I miss my best friend Hannah. We've known each other for a long time and were very good friends our freshman year of high school, but it's really just the last year and a half that we were definitely best friends... But we were, and as I deal with other people I wish they were her sometimes, and had her way of talking or giving advice or even just listening with love and without pressure. And as much as I admire Hannah it's not as though I was trying to emulate her, but I like having her example around, you know? She's a very centering, calming influence on me, while still being down for a good girly gigglefest. There, that feels like a semi-adequate summation.
Life is really good. We still love our new apartment (hopefully tonight I will film our little home tour!), my new job is going well and I got into a Children's Literature class online. Gearing up for my graduate school application, getting very excited looking at wedding stuff (another major I Miss Hannah marker), and things seem to be going really well, generally. And specificially. I just wish I had some BFF time. I can't wait for the first weekend of November, when we'll get to hang out at long last.
Working at the hotel today. I felt obligated to stay on for football weekends since that was part of the job posting I applied for in the early summer. I don't want to leave them in the lurch. There's one person here I really can't stand and of course I have to deal with her at the end of my shift today (nooooooo!), but by and large the people here are nice and it's a good gig for a student. It should be okay to work here for the rest of the football season, but I'll look forward to having my weekends off to spend time with Josh when this is all over.
Life is really good. We still love our new apartment (hopefully tonight I will film our little home tour!), my new job is going well and I got into a Children's Literature class online. Gearing up for my graduate school application, getting very excited looking at wedding stuff (another major I Miss Hannah marker), and things seem to be going really well, generally. And specificially. I just wish I had some BFF time. I can't wait for the first weekend of November, when we'll get to hang out at long last.
Working at the hotel today. I felt obligated to stay on for football weekends since that was part of the job posting I applied for in the early summer. I don't want to leave them in the lurch. There's one person here I really can't stand and of course I have to deal with her at the end of my shift today (nooooooo!), but by and large the people here are nice and it's a good gig for a student. It should be okay to work here for the rest of the football season, but I'll look forward to having my weekends off to spend time with Josh when this is all over.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
So.
I shouldn't have worried, because the day after that last post (two weeks ago today!) Josh proposed. Life has been very good since then. Moved to a beautiful apartment we really like, started a new job, and the oil got changed in the Old Lady Mobile. So everything's pretty up there on the goodnik tip.
Sweetheart, if you're reading this: I want to have your babies. Going to post about that from now on until it works.
Sweetheart, if you're reading this: I want to have your babies. Going to post about that from now on until it works.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Statlist
Garden: Good. Planted marigolds as a general "fuck you" to the cucumber beetles, have been spraying eggplant plants with a tomato leaf/dish detergent concoction as a similar send off for flea beetles. Having a hard time remembering that there are good beetles in the world. More cucumbers than I know what to do with and that's really saying something.
School: Over. Got an A in my first graduate level class! Gearing up for graduate school application. Dragging my heels about looking at the essay to rewrite, but a good and wordy friend said he'd look it over for me, so that's a relief at least. Sad summer class is over.
Work: Gave my "hey dudes, probably not going to be a student in the fall"-type notice today. Two interviews this week. Very happy (very relieved) to have those set up. A fancy dentist's office and a property management company, reception at both places. Crossed fingers. Money, I want you, I need you, I just gotsa gotsa have you.
Love: Lovely. Trying to endure the marrymemarrymemarryme vibes without squishing them. We've had a few nice date nights lately and in general things are very good. Prepping for our move at the end of this month.
It's been so nice out lately. Not uncomfortably warm, with cool breezes. It feels like those precious days of fall in Florida, which makes me delighted because there will be many more days like this up here and sad because I am feeling homesick lately. Going home for a bit the first weekend of November! A college friend is getting married. I wish Josh could come with me, but it's going to be a wonderful trip. Get to see my best friend and spend time with my parents and Josh's.
Not sure why I can't caption this picture as I wish. Anyway. Castle Ravenloft. Josh got it last week. I rolled a natural 20! Probably the only one I will roll for myself instead of a monster, ever.
Hurry up and get here, well-employed, admitted to graduate school, wonderful weather life!
School: Over. Got an A in my first graduate level class! Gearing up for graduate school application. Dragging my heels about looking at the essay to rewrite, but a good and wordy friend said he'd look it over for me, so that's a relief at least. Sad summer class is over.
Work: Gave my "hey dudes, probably not going to be a student in the fall"-type notice today. Two interviews this week. Very happy (very relieved) to have those set up. A fancy dentist's office and a property management company, reception at both places. Crossed fingers. Money, I want you, I need you, I just gotsa gotsa have you.
Love: Lovely. Trying to endure the marrymemarrymemarryme vibes without squishing them. We've had a few nice date nights lately and in general things are very good. Prepping for our move at the end of this month.
It's been so nice out lately. Not uncomfortably warm, with cool breezes. It feels like those precious days of fall in Florida, which makes me delighted because there will be many more days like this up here and sad because I am feeling homesick lately. Going home for a bit the first weekend of November! A college friend is getting married. I wish Josh could come with me, but it's going to be a wonderful trip. Get to see my best friend and spend time with my parents and Josh's.
Not sure why I can't caption this picture as I wish. Anyway. Castle Ravenloft. Josh got it last week. I rolled a natural 20! Probably the only one I will roll for myself instead of a monster, ever.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Playing with letters and leaves and life
Class is phenomenal, and my professor is one of the most wonderful people I've ever met. Going to meet with a SLIS adviser tomorrow thanks to her, to talk about reapplying in the next few months. Hard to believe it's been almost a year since I was so caught up in my application. Feel much better prepared this time, and I'm really hoping that I'll get valuable advice tomorrow. Afterwards I'll head home to finally relax for a bit (it's pretty much been work and school lately with little time to do anything but sleep or get my ass kicked at Boggle by Josh), then go to Epic to tend our garden, and then get Josh and bring him home. Thursday night we're going to see The Taming of the Shrew performed in an outdoor theater. Pretty excited about this. Working until 4, so I'll need to get home asap and then go get him from work so we can head out to Spring Green, the city where the theater is located. But the rush should be worth it and I've been looking forward to the play since Josh told me about it a couple of months ago.
Class is phenomenal, but I'm having trouble focusing on gathering the information I need to conduct a booktalk tomorrow on the book I selected, which has such an interesting title and is so godawful boring. Very, very dry. Josh is playing a creepy and sad but interesting game called Catherine and it's... interestingly timed, I guess. Feeling major marrymemarrymemarryme woes lately, and making jokes about having kids instead since I know that's not happening any time soon. It just feels safer, I guess. Wah wah wah.
Garden really needs tending, but things are growing! It's fun to go out every few days and see how the plants are doing and how the vegetables are getting bigger. Most of my time out there tomorrow will be spent weeding the hell out of the place, but it looks like as the eggplant plants (?) have gotten taller the flea beetles have finally gone away. I've never had eggplant before because I think it looks weird (story of my life), but these Fairy Tale Eggplant are really cool looking, a really happy purple with white streaks. Mostly I am jazzed about the cucumbers, which I know I love to eat.
Class is phenomenal, but I'm having trouble focusing on gathering the information I need to conduct a booktalk tomorrow on the book I selected, which has such an interesting title and is so godawful boring. Very, very dry. Josh is playing a creepy and sad but interesting game called Catherine and it's... interestingly timed, I guess. Feeling major marrymemarrymemarryme woes lately, and making jokes about having kids instead since I know that's not happening any time soon. It just feels safer, I guess. Wah wah wah.
Garden really needs tending, but things are growing! It's fun to go out every few days and see how the plants are doing and how the vegetables are getting bigger. Most of my time out there tomorrow will be spent weeding the hell out of the place, but it looks like as the eggplant plants (?) have gotten taller the flea beetles have finally gone away. I've never had eggplant before because I think it looks weird (story of my life), but these Fairy Tale Eggplant are really cool looking, a really happy purple with white streaks. Mostly I am jazzed about the cucumbers, which I know I love to eat.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Oof.
These early mornings to and at work are great, but sometimes they drag and they by definition require me to get up early, which is Just Not Natural. Siiiiiigh. But at the end of that long, very tired sigh there is delight and there is glee and there are all manner of nice things, because tomorrow is a day off! And our anniversary. Good things tomorrow.
In the meantime I need to clean-- mom is visiting this weekend and our apartment is going to be shown tomorrow since we gave notice and the office wants to rent the place. I wish we could do a two bedroom here, but being closer to the city will be nice. The place we're seriously considering looks good online. Need to find it on some apartment ratings websites and see what people say, and see it in person. It's not my favorite of the places I found online but it was one I liked well enough to send to Josh, and it makes me happy that he seems to like it. Hard to discern through his quiet, sometimes.
This is our third anniversary, which in a way is great because hey: anniversary! Three years! And this is the first time we've gotten to be together to celebrate it in a significant way. It also makes me sad that it's only been three years since we've known each other so much longer than that, and the waiting to be living in the same place made it seem like a crazy long wait that should at least have netted us more calendrical bragging rights, yeah? Regardless. I'm happy to be with him, happy whenever we work things out when things make one or both of us unhappy, and when I get scared about the future I can generally calm myself down about it since he's so trustworthy. I wish I was more confident in his feelings for me, but that's par for the course in my relationship with everyone I know. And sometimes he is so good I just want to cry in relief. Usually because he is making some awful situation infinitely better just by stroking my hair and telling me he loves me and that things are okay. I love the days when we get a little punchdrunk and laugh and laugh and laugh. Sometimes he inadvertently hurts my feelings, but he never makes me feel stupid for being silly with him. And I like that security a lot.
So, mom's going to be here this weekend! I can't believe the first weekend of May has gotten so far away from now. I'm telling you, calendars are bullshit. Never lending enough credit and always too fast or slow when you want the opposite. I need to spiff the place up and do some laundry. My mom is not a crazy investigative "WHAT IS THIS FUZZY FRIDGE THING?!" type of guest as far as I can tell, but to be honest I have never hosted her. For dinner yes, but not to stay overnight. I really, really wish my dad was coming with her, because I keep seeing things that make me think of and miss my dad, but I'm also really glad she is coming, because I love this place and I want to show it to the people that matter to me.
Thankfully Josh is already here, probably with more than his fill of the place. He's so tolerant of my crazy. I love that man and I know he loves me. And soon we'll have a two bedroom apartment and people can stay over without sleeping on the couch!
In the meantime I need to clean-- mom is visiting this weekend and our apartment is going to be shown tomorrow since we gave notice and the office wants to rent the place. I wish we could do a two bedroom here, but being closer to the city will be nice. The place we're seriously considering looks good online. Need to find it on some apartment ratings websites and see what people say, and see it in person. It's not my favorite of the places I found online but it was one I liked well enough to send to Josh, and it makes me happy that he seems to like it. Hard to discern through his quiet, sometimes.
This is our third anniversary, which in a way is great because hey: anniversary! Three years! And this is the first time we've gotten to be together to celebrate it in a significant way. It also makes me sad that it's only been three years since we've known each other so much longer than that, and the waiting to be living in the same place made it seem like a crazy long wait that should at least have netted us more calendrical bragging rights, yeah? Regardless. I'm happy to be with him, happy whenever we work things out when things make one or both of us unhappy, and when I get scared about the future I can generally calm myself down about it since he's so trustworthy. I wish I was more confident in his feelings for me, but that's par for the course in my relationship with everyone I know. And sometimes he is so good I just want to cry in relief. Usually because he is making some awful situation infinitely better just by stroking my hair and telling me he loves me and that things are okay. I love the days when we get a little punchdrunk and laugh and laugh and laugh. Sometimes he inadvertently hurts my feelings, but he never makes me feel stupid for being silly with him. And I like that security a lot.
So, mom's going to be here this weekend! I can't believe the first weekend of May has gotten so far away from now. I'm telling you, calendars are bullshit. Never lending enough credit and always too fast or slow when you want the opposite. I need to spiff the place up and do some laundry. My mom is not a crazy investigative "WHAT IS THIS FUZZY FRIDGE THING?!" type of guest as far as I can tell, but to be honest I have never hosted her. For dinner yes, but not to stay overnight. I really, really wish my dad was coming with her, because I keep seeing things that make me think of and miss my dad, but I'm also really glad she is coming, because I love this place and I want to show it to the people that matter to me.
Thankfully Josh is already here, probably with more than his fill of the place. He's so tolerant of my crazy. I love that man and I know he loves me. And soon we'll have a two bedroom apartment and people can stay over without sleeping on the couch!
Friday, July 1, 2011
I've Got a Bad Feeling
In my toe. Stubbed it. Many obscenities later I have decided that I will live (with this excruciating pain) to see another day.
I see why it's called stubbing, but the pain is a lot more like stabbing, I would imagine. Never having been stabbed I cannot say this is certain, but fucking flibbertygibbets, my right pinky toe hurts in a way befitting the noises people make when they are stabbed in the movies.
Garden at Josh's office is doing well, that's a very good thing. The difference between the last time I watered (Wednesday) and this afternoon was heartening. The organic food and regular watering are making a very nice difference. Neither of us have to work on Monday; not sure if we'll lazily enjoy the holiday or get out and do something. Not a big fan of the booms accompanying fireworks though I do love to see them and I think there are supposed to be some good displays up here. Hmm.
So. Foot terribly mangled. Plants doing well. Weekend is here. Hurrah!
I see why it's called stubbing, but the pain is a lot more like stabbing, I would imagine. Never having been stabbed I cannot say this is certain, but fucking flibbertygibbets, my right pinky toe hurts in a way befitting the noises people make when they are stabbed in the movies.
Garden at Josh's office is doing well, that's a very good thing. The difference between the last time I watered (Wednesday) and this afternoon was heartening. The organic food and regular watering are making a very nice difference. Neither of us have to work on Monday; not sure if we'll lazily enjoy the holiday or get out and do something. Not a big fan of the booms accompanying fireworks though I do love to see them and I think there are supposed to be some good displays up here. Hmm.
So. Foot terribly mangled. Plants doing well. Weekend is here. Hurrah!
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
On the Smoothin' of Things
Having much more counter space than I am used to and a blender of good shape (blender shape, if you were wondering), the latter courtesy of my dearly-missed best friend Hannah, I have been smoothie-ing up a storm lately. Frozen fruit, room temperature banana, yogurt, almond milk... It's good times. Found out early and the hard way that including raspberries or blackberries is just asking for trouble, but blueberries and strawberries are always a good bet. The grocery store we frequent, Copps, also has frozen mango which I might try in the near future. I've resolutely turned away from it until now because the friend who gave me the blender doesn't like mango and it seems somehow wrong to use her gift to prepare mangos for consumption. It was only a few minutes ago when I realized that the method of preparation concerned involves the frozen (brr) mango getting to dance a dangerous dance with blender blades. So I am resolved to buy frozen mango at the next opportunity and try it with almond milk. Mmm.
Work is going well. I think I will like it there and as modestly as possible I am quite sure they will like me. Good position in which to find oneself. This week I'm working short shifts in the evening, and today (the first day of this shift) was nice.
More of a disruption than a smoothing: I am okay at drumming when we play Rock Band! I've done it before but not very much when friends of mine in Florida and I had Nacho Wii Friday (god I miss Nacho Wii Friday and those friends). But the woman of the house was our designated drummer, and she's really good. I volunteered to drum when we played with some friends at last week's game night, and ended up drumming for most of the night. It was fun! And then Josh and I have played at home for a while the past two nights, and I've drummed then, too. My guitar/bass skills are only passable, and though I like singing and I like being reliable at singing it's never felt like enough in the way that being alright at the drums satisfies me, since that's... Not easy in the way that singing is, I guess.
Worried about good friends who are going through a bad spot. They're okay with one another, their little family is fine, but they're worried about the future and I'm worried about them. I wish I knew enough about the world to sort things out for them.
To end on a good note: Josh bought us a car!
Work is going well. I think I will like it there and as modestly as possible I am quite sure they will like me. Good position in which to find oneself. This week I'm working short shifts in the evening, and today (the first day of this shift) was nice.
More of a disruption than a smoothing: I am okay at drumming when we play Rock Band! I've done it before but not very much when friends of mine in Florida and I had Nacho Wii Friday (god I miss Nacho Wii Friday and those friends). But the woman of the house was our designated drummer, and she's really good. I volunteered to drum when we played with some friends at last week's game night, and ended up drumming for most of the night. It was fun! And then Josh and I have played at home for a while the past two nights, and I've drummed then, too. My guitar/bass skills are only passable, and though I like singing and I like being reliable at singing it's never felt like enough in the way that being alright at the drums satisfies me, since that's... Not easy in the way that singing is, I guess.
Worried about good friends who are going through a bad spot. They're okay with one another, their little family is fine, but they're worried about the future and I'm worried about them. I wish I knew enough about the world to sort things out for them.
To end on a good note: Josh bought us a car!
Saturday, June 18, 2011
W-4, I-9, and workin' hard for the money
Got a job! I start Tuesday. I got the job Wednesday, but I've been really busy filling up my time with being unemployed stuff since then. Gotta get it all in now, yeah?
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Guns
I don't want to get shot. I don't think anyone wants to get shot.
I used to think that the perfect world was one where there weren't guns; no one gets shot that way, and it's kind of a win for the earlier wish. I was unimpressed by people who said "It's a right!" or "I feel safer with a gun!" or "I want to be able to protect my family!" and I wrote them off as crazies who just wanted a boom boom stick.
I don't really see it the same way any more. I would still rather there were no guns, and I interpret the Second Amendment differently than pro-gun groups, but I can see how people could read it as saying that American citizens can have guns. I want people to feel safe. And I appreciate that a person would want to protect his or her family. I'll even admit that I think guns in movies are cool. I confess (particularly as a vegetarian) that I don't get hunting, but I know I really enjoyed fishing when I had occasion to do it, and provided hunters aren't shooting each other and obeying the law... It's not my thing but I don't have a problem with it, you know? I've known people who hunt who are great people. That influences my opinion, certainly. And we've got some beautiful space in the United States of America. If an outdoorsman wants to use some of that space to hunt, I don't have a problem with that.
I have a problem with people shooting people. On purpose or inadvertently. And while guns can be used to intimidate, that's what they are for: shooting. If someone is intimidated by a gun it's because they're thinking "Balls, that mother fucker could shoot me. Better do what he says or kick that thing out of his hand right quick." So if someone who wants to rob or harm you comes into your house, or even if you're worried that it might happen-- yes, by all means, purchase and have a gun if it makes you feel safer or could save your family. Nevermind the logistics of keeping the gun accessible in the event of a home invasion but also where kids can't get to it. And if you want to hunt deer or turkeys or whatever, go for it. Maybe don't shoot each other in the face is all I'm saying.
But guns in public. What is that? Why do you need your gun at the park? Why do you need your gun at the farmer's market? Why is anyone so excited about being able to keep a gun in a jacket pocket? Keep your gun at home, Rambo! And if to that you say "Criminals don't keep their guns at home!" and if that makes you too scared to leave your arsenal at your address, well, I hate to put this on you, but that's a personal problem. I've been going out in public places for 24 years, unarmed, and I have yet to be shot. Haven't even broken any bones. Are you afraid of getting shot? Me, too.
I used to think that the perfect world was one where there weren't guns; no one gets shot that way, and it's kind of a win for the earlier wish. I was unimpressed by people who said "It's a right!" or "I feel safer with a gun!" or "I want to be able to protect my family!" and I wrote them off as crazies who just wanted a boom boom stick.
I don't really see it the same way any more. I would still rather there were no guns, and I interpret the Second Amendment differently than pro-gun groups, but I can see how people could read it as saying that American citizens can have guns. I want people to feel safe. And I appreciate that a person would want to protect his or her family. I'll even admit that I think guns in movies are cool. I confess (particularly as a vegetarian) that I don't get hunting, but I know I really enjoyed fishing when I had occasion to do it, and provided hunters aren't shooting each other and obeying the law... It's not my thing but I don't have a problem with it, you know? I've known people who hunt who are great people. That influences my opinion, certainly. And we've got some beautiful space in the United States of America. If an outdoorsman wants to use some of that space to hunt, I don't have a problem with that.
I have a problem with people shooting people. On purpose or inadvertently. And while guns can be used to intimidate, that's what they are for: shooting. If someone is intimidated by a gun it's because they're thinking "Balls, that mother fucker could shoot me. Better do what he says or kick that thing out of his hand right quick." So if someone who wants to rob or harm you comes into your house, or even if you're worried that it might happen-- yes, by all means, purchase and have a gun if it makes you feel safer or could save your family. Nevermind the logistics of keeping the gun accessible in the event of a home invasion but also where kids can't get to it. And if you want to hunt deer or turkeys or whatever, go for it. Maybe don't shoot each other in the face is all I'm saying.
But guns in public. What is that? Why do you need your gun at the park? Why do you need your gun at the farmer's market? Why is anyone so excited about being able to keep a gun in a jacket pocket? Keep your gun at home, Rambo! And if to that you say "Criminals don't keep their guns at home!" and if that makes you too scared to leave your arsenal at your address, well, I hate to put this on you, but that's a personal problem. I've been going out in public places for 24 years, unarmed, and I have yet to be shot. Haven't even broken any bones. Are you afraid of getting shot? Me, too.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Infamous, Intercision, and an Interview
Josh has been playing this very cool-looking game called Infamous for the past few days. He would probably have finished by now if I didn't keep interrupting him for activities that require his presence somewhere that is not in front of our television.
Have I mentioned our couch is amazing? I love this couch. I'd sit here and play video games all day, too.
Anyway. Infamous. So the player is Cole (?), this guy who through some town-isolating explosion is granted zappy powers and a monkeylike urge to scramble up buildings. Cole saves a lot of people in the city and it appears that gradually turns public opinion to his favor (everyone seems to think he's responsible for the explosion--he wasn't-- and they make a lot of noise to that effect when he walks by). There's some FBI agent outside the city who really wants to find her husband inside the city, but as I said, city is isolated. So she gets in contact with Cole and promises she will get him out and try to clear his name if he finds her husband. Cue fifteen bajillion side quests, and about as many people coming to him for favors... As Cole's over folksy buddy Zeke would say "Yer fucked, buddy! Ain't goin' nowhere!"
It's fun to watch Josh play this game, at least in a look-up-from-what-I'm-doing kind of way.
We watched The Golden Compass last night. Friends loaned it to us, and I really wanted to see it when it was in movie theaters a few years ago. I got an omnibus of the stories a year or so after that and read the first book, the one the movie is based on. It was a solid enough adaptation, right until... the ending. Which was just not there. The ending is not sunshinerainbows, but I was really disappointed the producers chose to cut the movie short. Anyone who only sees the movie and doesn't read the book is being left with a version of the story that's lacking and wrong.
Been applying and applying and applying for jobs, crossing my fingers, and getting "we've chosen another candidate" letters. It's nice to at least get responses, but I certainly wish some of them were yes-ier. Tuesday I have an interview at a conference/hotel space operated by the university, so we'll see. More crossed fingers.
Finished the garden stakes for our plot at Epic. I found el cheapo spatulas at Michael's and painted them each a rainbow color, then decorated them with those smooshed marble bits of glass, a gold paint pen, little designs, and the requisite names of plants. They look pretty neat, and I'm happy to have seen the project through. Need to spray them with the sealant, and then get them out there sometime this week.
Have I mentioned our couch is amazing? I love this couch. I'd sit here and play video games all day, too.
Anyway. Infamous. So the player is Cole (?), this guy who through some town-isolating explosion is granted zappy powers and a monkeylike urge to scramble up buildings. Cole saves a lot of people in the city and it appears that gradually turns public opinion to his favor (everyone seems to think he's responsible for the explosion--he wasn't-- and they make a lot of noise to that effect when he walks by). There's some FBI agent outside the city who really wants to find her husband inside the city, but as I said, city is isolated. So she gets in contact with Cole and promises she will get him out and try to clear his name if he finds her husband. Cue fifteen bajillion side quests, and about as many people coming to him for favors... As Cole's over folksy buddy Zeke would say "Yer fucked, buddy! Ain't goin' nowhere!"
It's fun to watch Josh play this game, at least in a look-up-from-what-I'm-doing kind of way.
We watched The Golden Compass last night. Friends loaned it to us, and I really wanted to see it when it was in movie theaters a few years ago. I got an omnibus of the stories a year or so after that and read the first book, the one the movie is based on. It was a solid enough adaptation, right until... the ending. Which was just not there. The ending is not sunshinerainbows, but I was really disappointed the producers chose to cut the movie short. Anyone who only sees the movie and doesn't read the book is being left with a version of the story that's lacking and wrong.
Been applying and applying and applying for jobs, crossing my fingers, and getting "we've chosen another candidate" letters. It's nice to at least get responses, but I certainly wish some of them were yes-ier. Tuesday I have an interview at a conference/hotel space operated by the university, so we'll see. More crossed fingers.
Finished the garden stakes for our plot at Epic. I found el cheapo spatulas at Michael's and painted them each a rainbow color, then decorated them with those smooshed marble bits of glass, a gold paint pen, little designs, and the requisite names of plants. They look pretty neat, and I'm happy to have seen the project through. Need to spray them with the sealant, and then get them out there sometime this week.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Of changed stripes and former shades
I was married once, after a relationship of several years that weren't really abusive but were in no way healthy for me. I put myself in that position and went through with being in the relationship and even marrying the guy because I thought I had to (I got kicked out of home and moved in with him, which sealed the eventuality as far as my messed up mentality went at the time). My ex-husband isn't a bad guy. He's not the best guy, he was never the guy for me, and he had his faults, but as much as I wish I could forget everything and write him off as an asshole-- and oh ho ho, let me not lead you to believe that he behaved as a saint during our relationship or especially our divorce, because that is also far from the truth-- it's not like he chugged vodka, hit me on a regular basis, called me names, or... you know, did the stuff crappy boyfriends/husbands on TV specials do.
My life now is good in all the ways that time in my life was not: I am honest with my significant other, I believe that he knows and loves me (it helps that I am honest with him), I want to be with him because it makes me happy without hinging on saving him, and I do not feel the need to keep myself small to satisfy him or his sometimes batshit crazy family. True of the ex, not of my boyfriend. Truly I lucked the fuck out in his parents and really in his whole family; they are great.
I look back on that time with regret and shame and sadness that decrease in intensity as all that bad stuff gets father away from the present, but also with a sense of deep relief. I could have at many points saved myself from what already felt like impending doom, and went through with it anyway. I can't believe I ever felt like it wasn't alright to find a way out. When I get deep enough in conversation with someone about it I cry because I am so relieved to be free of all that weight, all that crazy, all those eggshell rules, and so relieved to be somewhere better so few years later. I don't really like having a divorce under my belt, but the bad times help me savor the good times, when I get reflective.
My ex's sister had a baby with her husband, conceived in a tumultuous relationship, born in a crazy marriage, and quickly the child of a divorced couple. That poor family: desperate for marriage and babies, and all three kids married and divorced. Anyway. The one grandchild was a sweet enough kid--I felt like his mom got a better deal than she deserved, in my pettier moments-- and I really liked being his aunt and buying him clothes and spending time with him. Naturally this drew to an abrupt close when I told my then husband that I wanted to end our marriage. Which is the one time he hit me. I think I would have let it go with more grace (not an action I would have expected from him) if he hadn't lied about it to our friends or to me. 'Cause, you know, all you've got to do to make sure a girl doesn't remember getting hit is to hit her in the face with your fist. That doesn't count!
Right. So that kid graduated from preschool sometime recently, and a friend on Facebook (someone I knew through the sort-of sorority that eventually led to my meeting the family I married into) was tagged in the album of preschool graduation pictures. His parents flank him in most of the photos, and to all appearances they look like happier, healthier people. At the very least they do not appear to be clawing at each other. In a very, very far-away detached way, it makes me happy to see they can be like that for his sake. And his grandparents, who are crazy but were as good to me as they knew how to be, are still alive (the patriarch of the family is almost in his 80s, if not yet there). And the kid might be a godawful hellion now, it is in his DNA, but I remember him as a sweet little boy. And from that far-away detached place I know I don't want to think about these things or people, because I was so dishonest with myself when we were a part of each other's lives. But there they are. I can't deny their place in my history or their intrinsic part in my growing up.
I am happier, healthier, and honest-er on the other side of my time with them than I was before or during it. I hope that the relationships I have and am forging now will be lifetime ones, and that when the little boy I babysat today and adore the snot out of even (or at least very soon after) he pulls the carbon monoxide detector out of the wall, setting off a VERY LOUD ANGRY SUSTAINED BEEP graduates from preschool, I will be there.
My life now is good in all the ways that time in my life was not: I am honest with my significant other, I believe that he knows and loves me (it helps that I am honest with him), I want to be with him because it makes me happy without hinging on saving him, and I do not feel the need to keep myself small to satisfy him or his sometimes batshit crazy family. True of the ex, not of my boyfriend. Truly I lucked the fuck out in his parents and really in his whole family; they are great.
I look back on that time with regret and shame and sadness that decrease in intensity as all that bad stuff gets father away from the present, but also with a sense of deep relief. I could have at many points saved myself from what already felt like impending doom, and went through with it anyway. I can't believe I ever felt like it wasn't alright to find a way out. When I get deep enough in conversation with someone about it I cry because I am so relieved to be free of all that weight, all that crazy, all those eggshell rules, and so relieved to be somewhere better so few years later. I don't really like having a divorce under my belt, but the bad times help me savor the good times, when I get reflective.
My ex's sister had a baby with her husband, conceived in a tumultuous relationship, born in a crazy marriage, and quickly the child of a divorced couple. That poor family: desperate for marriage and babies, and all three kids married and divorced. Anyway. The one grandchild was a sweet enough kid--I felt like his mom got a better deal than she deserved, in my pettier moments-- and I really liked being his aunt and buying him clothes and spending time with him. Naturally this drew to an abrupt close when I told my then husband that I wanted to end our marriage. Which is the one time he hit me. I think I would have let it go with more grace (not an action I would have expected from him) if he hadn't lied about it to our friends or to me. 'Cause, you know, all you've got to do to make sure a girl doesn't remember getting hit is to hit her in the face with your fist. That doesn't count!
Right. So that kid graduated from preschool sometime recently, and a friend on Facebook (someone I knew through the sort-of sorority that eventually led to my meeting the family I married into) was tagged in the album of preschool graduation pictures. His parents flank him in most of the photos, and to all appearances they look like happier, healthier people. At the very least they do not appear to be clawing at each other. In a very, very far-away detached way, it makes me happy to see they can be like that for his sake. And his grandparents, who are crazy but were as good to me as they knew how to be, are still alive (the patriarch of the family is almost in his 80s, if not yet there). And the kid might be a godawful hellion now, it is in his DNA, but I remember him as a sweet little boy. And from that far-away detached place I know I don't want to think about these things or people, because I was so dishonest with myself when we were a part of each other's lives. But there they are. I can't deny their place in my history or their intrinsic part in my growing up.
I am happier, healthier, and honest-er on the other side of my time with them than I was before or during it. I hope that the relationships I have and am forging now will be lifetime ones, and that when the little boy I babysat today and adore the snot out of even (or at least very soon after) he pulls the carbon monoxide detector out of the wall, setting off a VERY LOUD ANGRY SUSTAINED BEEP graduates from preschool, I will be there.
Monday, May 23, 2011
News from the midwestern front
I have never understood why this section of the country is called the midwest. It is not very far west at all, easily identifiable on a map as east of center, really. Noticeable proximity to the eastern seaboard, too. And Wisconsin is, for a stretch, part of the northern border of the United States. There's a link to the Midwest article on Wikipedia on Wisconsin's article, and I'm a bit tempted but since discovering that reading Wikipedia with extreme indignation does not itself shift the world to a more pleasant state of being, I am hesitant to raise my blood pressure with the whole affair.
Josh and I went for a nice walk after dinner. At the unsteering hands of our carless virtue, walking is done far more often up here than it was in Florida. What are these things at the ends of my legs?!
So. A walk down to the open air-style mall, where we found a bench in front of a fountain we'd never noticed, and we sat and Josh had a Coke and we just talked about our days and made each other laugh. It was very sweet and very pleasant. Very pleasant weather, too. We saw lots of dogs and dog owners out for walks on the way down there and back. We usually devote a sentence or two to Parker or Gizmo (the best dogs we have ever known) on these walks since it's so common to see other dogs with their owners. We've talked about getting one in the future, which might be nice. I miss the cats (?!) pretty bad but they're getting on very well at Josh's parents' house. I am so glad they're safe and being taken care of by such nice people.
Oooh, speaking of his parents--! They sent me off with some blueberry wine! Gonna go crack (cork?) one of those open and enjoy. The handsome man I live with is working hard on preparing a presentation for tomorrow and fixing some software problem so doctors don't mistakenly prescribe Rick Astley eyelashes or something. Music doesn't bother him when he is working like it does me, so I made us a playlist and it is gooooood. Eric Clapton's "Bad Love" right now, OK Go's "Get Over It" just before.
The weather is good here and life is beautiful. Still don't have a job yet. Get your act together, fated employer of my near--Swami Alex says very, very near, so get a move on--future.
Josh and I went for a nice walk after dinner. At the unsteering hands of our carless virtue, walking is done far more often up here than it was in Florida. What are these things at the ends of my legs?!
So. A walk down to the open air-style mall, where we found a bench in front of a fountain we'd never noticed, and we sat and Josh had a Coke and we just talked about our days and made each other laugh. It was very sweet and very pleasant. Very pleasant weather, too. We saw lots of dogs and dog owners out for walks on the way down there and back. We usually devote a sentence or two to Parker or Gizmo (the best dogs we have ever known) on these walks since it's so common to see other dogs with their owners. We've talked about getting one in the future, which might be nice. I miss the cats (?!) pretty bad but they're getting on very well at Josh's parents' house. I am so glad they're safe and being taken care of by such nice people.
Oooh, speaking of his parents--! They sent me off with some blueberry wine! Gonna go crack (cork?) one of those open and enjoy. The handsome man I live with is working hard on preparing a presentation for tomorrow and fixing some software problem so doctors don't mistakenly prescribe Rick Astley eyelashes or something. Music doesn't bother him when he is working like it does me, so I made us a playlist and it is gooooood. Eric Clapton's "Bad Love" right now, OK Go's "Get Over It" just before.
The weather is good here and life is beautiful. Still don't have a job yet. Get your act together, fated employer of my near--Swami Alex says very, very near, so get a move on--future.
Monday, May 16, 2011
The sorts of things I love, and the (nonpolitical) thing I hate about Wisconsin
Applying for jobs is not the most fun a person could have. Honestly, I do get a bit swept up in the possibility each new posting could mean, and I do have fun on the first dozen applications writing these stellar cover letters and tailoring my very breath to what the posting is asking for and needing, but it does get old.
I have, however, had smashing luck so far in Wisconsin, where I have sent out fewer than a dozen applications and received four serious responses. One, to be fair, was for one of those file clerk positions where "files" are "sales," but the other three have been legit! And from really nice-seeming people in some cases. HR in others. I have an interview tomorrow that I'm excited and optimistic about--I like interviews--and the only thing I didn't have to wow them with was a dynamite interview outfit. So I got myself cleaned up after I scheduled the interview and headed down to Marshall's, which is in Greenway Station, literally right down the road from here.
Marshall's is where I must call bullshit on Wisconsin, for the first time not involving a politician (though I know one is behind this, and don't think I won't find you, motherfucker, and make you pay). Because there are NO suits of the non-bathing variety at Marshall's and there are NO Ross stores in the state. I am still reeling from this crushing blow to my savvy sartorial procurement needs. I sent messages to my mom and best friend here, and the latter offered to pick me up and take me with her to the mall, where she was heading anyway. We went to Kohl's, where I did find one really snazzy suit for more than I wanted to pay (limited cash until I can set up a bank account here). Bought it so no one else could take it, and because at my core I am a magpie, and a mean one. Went to the mall after and struck gold at Penney's. I now own one actual skirted suit and a nice blazer and slacks made by the same company.
Josh is playing something that sounds dreadful and bloody on the computer. He wasn't feeling well when he got home, so after dinner we watched a couple of Glee episodes and vegged; he stretched out with his head in my lap. Apparently a little horizontal time (no, sadly) was all he needed, as he appears to be terrorizing or saving a town of very, very frightened little digital people. And I am typing this blog entry on the island-y thing in the kitchen. I love this apartment, and I will miss it when we move.
A little extra homesick today. I talked to my old team lead via text message today and as excited as I am for this new stuff, and as batshit as my old job sometimes drove me, I miss where I worked. And my best friend, who had dinner with friends tonight and posted a picture on Facebook. I didn't really think about not having Hannah nearby until we were saying goodbye for the last time last week. I've been here for exactly a week as I write this, and that's fifty kinds of grand and great but I... I just lost my train of thought. Josh came over and I got it out of him that he is in fact terrorizing those little digital people.
I have, however, had smashing luck so far in Wisconsin, where I have sent out fewer than a dozen applications and received four serious responses. One, to be fair, was for one of those file clerk positions where "files" are "sales," but the other three have been legit! And from really nice-seeming people in some cases. HR in others. I have an interview tomorrow that I'm excited and optimistic about--I like interviews--and the only thing I didn't have to wow them with was a dynamite interview outfit. So I got myself cleaned up after I scheduled the interview and headed down to Marshall's, which is in Greenway Station, literally right down the road from here.
Marshall's is where I must call bullshit on Wisconsin, for the first time not involving a politician (though I know one is behind this, and don't think I won't find you, motherfucker, and make you pay). Because there are NO suits of the non-bathing variety at Marshall's and there are NO Ross stores in the state. I am still reeling from this crushing blow to my savvy sartorial procurement needs. I sent messages to my mom and best friend here, and the latter offered to pick me up and take me with her to the mall, where she was heading anyway. We went to Kohl's, where I did find one really snazzy suit for more than I wanted to pay (limited cash until I can set up a bank account here). Bought it so no one else could take it, and because at my core I am a magpie, and a mean one. Went to the mall after and struck gold at Penney's. I now own one actual skirted suit and a nice blazer and slacks made by the same company.
Josh is playing something that sounds dreadful and bloody on the computer. He wasn't feeling well when he got home, so after dinner we watched a couple of Glee episodes and vegged; he stretched out with his head in my lap. Apparently a little horizontal time (no, sadly) was all he needed, as he appears to be terrorizing or saving a town of very, very frightened little digital people. And I am typing this blog entry on the island-y thing in the kitchen. I love this apartment, and I will miss it when we move.
A little extra homesick today. I talked to my old team lead via text message today and as excited as I am for this new stuff, and as batshit as my old job sometimes drove me, I miss where I worked. And my best friend, who had dinner with friends tonight and posted a picture on Facebook. I didn't really think about not having Hannah nearby until we were saying goodbye for the last time last week. I've been here for exactly a week as I write this, and that's fifty kinds of grand and great but I... I just lost my train of thought. Josh came over and I got it out of him that he is in fact terrorizing those little digital people.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Gone done and did it
Well, I graduated. And I moved to Wisconsin. And life's trucking along (hurr, believe me, if you move across the country in two days the last thing you will ever want to hear is a truck joke) fairly well. Miss my best friend and the people I'm used to seeing-- or at least I miss being able to see them, you know?
But things are good here. Josh and I are adjusting well enough, the apartment looks good and it will look even better soon, we're talking seriously about getting a car since the Vespa couldn't come up. It's the middle of May and I haven't heard anything from the graduate school, so I signed up to take classes at UW-Madison as a non degree seeking student. Looking forward to it.
But things are good here. Josh and I are adjusting well enough, the apartment looks good and it will look even better soon, we're talking seriously about getting a car since the Vespa couldn't come up. It's the middle of May and I haven't heard anything from the graduate school, so I signed up to take classes at UW-Madison as a non degree seeking student. Looking forward to it.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Time for another rant
And we'll start it the way I try to preface all the ranting I do internally: with the good stuff first.
Had a wonderful spring break. Went on a cruise with one of my best friends and then almost immediately to Wisconsin to spend the rest of my break with my boyfriend. Managed to get up the next morning and go to work, which is an accomplishment. I came home to a clean room thanks to best friend, who catsat and many other things I wasn't expecting. There were flowers! That was a really lovely surprise. Got a 95 on the midterm for one of my exhausting classes. Did better than most other students (not a 95, but I'm thinking in terms of range, here!) on the midterm in my incredibly exhausting class. Goldie got a car wash yesterday and she looks great. The move is all planned out, I had a really nice weekend, and yesterday I got Chipotle for dinner. Went out for dinner with the aunts and a friend of theirs a few nights ago and there were many drinks and good food and they told the waitress it was my birthday even though it was actually a few days before and we got away with it. So there's plenty of good.
Now for the bad and the ugly.
I like my job a lot, but the people I work with are driving me extra crazy lately. There's a director (unfortunately over our director) in the organization who is a really, really trolly individual. She's been checking our voicemail every once in a while lately. We've been REALLY busy lately; there are field trips, summer field trips, break camps (that's almost over, c'mon, Friday!), and summer camps that we're registering for, and we seem to be getting a lot more birthday and front desk calls as well. So there were messages in there once from two hours before La Monstra checked and she went batshit on our boss's boss, who with considerably more humanity passed it down the hierarchy that we need to be checking voicemails more regularly. Okay. We probably do.
Apparently the way my coworkers and I interpret that is very different. I think it means "Answer the phones, and check the general voicemail for messages several times a day." The women in my office appear to think it means "let it go to voicemail, check it... Iunno, whenever?" And returning calls? Riiiiiiiight. So any day now I expect that we'll get another lecture about returning them.
There's been this seed of discontent for a while, that it feels like they believe I'm breaking them, not working with them. And lately that's only been proven true. Rubbing rock salt and metal shavings in that wound is the fact that they just sort of blinked through my birthday. Our team lead (who I like more) said happy birthday when she came in, the other forgot and called me after I left the office to go to school. Everyone else who knew it was my birthday made a much bigger deal than my officemates. So. I see.
And now let's talk about the rest of this natal commemoration! Birthday wasn't the best. Night-before-Birthday dinner plans (convoluted, with much eggshell stepping) eventually got established and a reservation was made, I drove the aforementioned friend with me, and as we were turning into the parking lot Goldie's sway bar bent really badly. Then dad decided he wanted to go out and look at it. I KNEW the car was going to need to be towed, but, hey, he's my dad. He had me back up a foot or so.
Me: "Dad, I don't think that's a good idea."
Dad: "Just do it, kid."
Swaybar: "BREAKCLUNKSNAPcracklepop!"
It's not like I didn't forsee something bad happening, but I felt like a terrible car mom. Josh got me roadside assistance when we signed up for our phones, so I knew I could get the car towed to the shop where all her work gets done. I thought I could go inside and get through dinner and then take care of setting that up, but nooooo. Parents insisted otherwise. Took 20 minutes to get through hold, being put on hold several times, and the operator asking me to repeat the information. 20 minutes while my guests sat in the restaurant and I stood outside, trying not to cry. The roadside assistance covered the first $50 of towing, so I knew I'd be out a bit but could handle it. As we were finally finishing up the operator said the tow truck would arrive in about 45 minutes, and I said that wouldn't be a problem but I was going inside to have dinner with my family and friends, so if there was any way the ticket could be placed a little later in the queue that would be fine, no rush. He made some bumbling noises-- he was almost a completely useless schmuck-- and about 15 minutes later I got a call from the tow truck driver. This actually ended up working out well, since afterward I could enjoy dinner without worrying about any more interruptions. Mom walked out to the car with me, which was nice, and then when I started to fill out my card information asked what I was doing. AAA could have done it for free, was her point. But mom and dad are AAA members and I am not, and no one volunteered the service (nor did I expect them to). Thankfully this seemed to be quickly got over and $54 later Goldie was on her way to Tuffy. Dinner never seemed as comfortable for my guests as I wanted it to be, but the food and service were great. Our waiter brought out a little dish of defuckinglicious mango ice cream with a candle stuck in the middle. I made a wish. I did not wish for graduate school acceptance, a move I am rueing most ruefully now, over a week later.
Monday was my actual birthday. Monday I was supposed to hear from graduate school. Monday I did not. I was miserable at work and miserable at school. After school I decided to go to the county tax collector's office to renew my registration, register the Vespa in my name, and get the motorcycle endorsement on my license. I forgot the two pieces of mail I needed for the DL transaction, so I motored home to get those. Got back at 4:01. They won't process a license change if you pull a ticket after 4:00. Okay, been that kinda day and I know they have rules. I waited to take care of the registration stuff.
I have never had a bad experience doing DMV stuff, and until now I haven't understood the bad rap those offices and employees get. But oh. Oh, do I now.
A woman I am convinced graduated summa cum unpleasantus from Beezelbub's Online anti-Charm Academy "helped" me. She was a BITCH. I cannot say it enough. So I got done with what I could do, walked back up to the truck (mom loaned me hers while Goldie was in the shop, another good thing that should have been mentioned at the start of this entry), and had a small, long overdue nervous breakdown. Tried to straighten myself up so I wouldn't look like... I did, I guess, when I paid for parking. Got home. Parked truck. Continued breakdown. Eventually I seized upon a mantra that helped me calm down ("You're going to move to Wisconsin, you're going to live with Josh, and he loves you no matter what"), and I made my way inside. Kerflopped. Considered asking the aunts if we could do Indian birthday dinner another night. And shortly after I decided that wasn't the best idea, one of the aunts knocked on my door.
The other aunt had run out of gas and was stuck. The other car wouldn't start. I began to suspect witchcraft.
We fought traffic to get to the gas station. We fought traffic to get out of the gas station. We made a dangerous U-turn I would never, ever have executed had I been in my right mind. The gas wasn't flowing into the tank. Aunt-I-Am-Actually-Related-To found a stick. We all got home. I explained the cruddy turn of events at the tag agency and that no, I hadn't heard anything from UW-Madison. Dinner went well enough. Poor Josh called later that night and I'm so, so lucky he's still with me. I was so depressed.
Tuesday--! I was still depressed. I was convinced I would never hear from or get into graduate school. And then I got an email.
Waitlisted.
At the time I was so relieved to hear anything, anything from them that I felt much better. The reality of not knowing where I am on that list or if the waitlist is a soft no bugs me a bit, but after talking with Josh (he's a miracle worker), I think I'm alright. I would love to get in this year, but if not I'll have residency established and I have a plan to make myself a very attractive applicant the next go 'round. I'm a little stuck as to what to hope for, honestly. I want in. I don't want the delay of a year in my hazy plans for getting married and having a child in the future. But it really might be better to wait. The only hang up on that is that I'm scared about getting academic letters of recommendation, since I won't have taken a class with my UCF professors in over a year if I'm in the admissions ring again next year. Part of my plan is taking one of the SLIS courses as a non degree seeking student and wowing the tar out of that professor. I guess I could take two. I'm just not sure.
More crap at work, mostly being away from my desk for 9/10 of my shift with no warning or expressed exemption from the expectation that I do everything I have to do at my desk. The girls in my office acting (maybe they're not acting) like they're so sad I'm leaving in May two days after they barely registered that it was my birthday. Major senioritis. Just. don't. wanna. do. any. more. work. I'm doing it, but always after digging in my heels for laziness, justice, and the American Way first. The shower bench that geriatric housemate uses appears to have been permanently moved into the bathroom, so I have to wrestle it out every morning. He keeps leaving the light on, I keep turning it off. Battle of the generations if e'er there was one.
Came home at lunch today and my birthday card from Josh wasn't in the mail. Don't know what I did to irk who with what power, but today's rain has suited the mood of things pretty well. But the rain's also been badly needed. I'm realizing lately that-- if you forget the occasional meltdown-- I'm an optimistic person, but that I don't want to throw my hope into something and look foolish. So I'm not taking anything from it being raining but that it's raining, and that the rain is needed.
Had a wonderful spring break. Went on a cruise with one of my best friends and then almost immediately to Wisconsin to spend the rest of my break with my boyfriend. Managed to get up the next morning and go to work, which is an accomplishment. I came home to a clean room thanks to best friend, who catsat and many other things I wasn't expecting. There were flowers! That was a really lovely surprise. Got a 95 on the midterm for one of my exhausting classes. Did better than most other students (not a 95, but I'm thinking in terms of range, here!) on the midterm in my incredibly exhausting class. Goldie got a car wash yesterday and she looks great. The move is all planned out, I had a really nice weekend, and yesterday I got Chipotle for dinner. Went out for dinner with the aunts and a friend of theirs a few nights ago and there were many drinks and good food and they told the waitress it was my birthday even though it was actually a few days before and we got away with it. So there's plenty of good.
Now for the bad and the ugly.
I like my job a lot, but the people I work with are driving me extra crazy lately. There's a director (unfortunately over our director) in the organization who is a really, really trolly individual. She's been checking our voicemail every once in a while lately. We've been REALLY busy lately; there are field trips, summer field trips, break camps (that's almost over, c'mon, Friday!), and summer camps that we're registering for, and we seem to be getting a lot more birthday and front desk calls as well. So there were messages in there once from two hours before La Monstra checked and she went batshit on our boss's boss, who with considerably more humanity passed it down the hierarchy that we need to be checking voicemails more regularly. Okay. We probably do.
Apparently the way my coworkers and I interpret that is very different. I think it means "Answer the phones, and check the general voicemail for messages several times a day." The women in my office appear to think it means "let it go to voicemail, check it... Iunno, whenever?" And returning calls? Riiiiiiiight. So any day now I expect that we'll get another lecture about returning them.
There's been this seed of discontent for a while, that it feels like they believe I'm breaking them, not working with them. And lately that's only been proven true. Rubbing rock salt and metal shavings in that wound is the fact that they just sort of blinked through my birthday. Our team lead (who I like more) said happy birthday when she came in, the other forgot and called me after I left the office to go to school. Everyone else who knew it was my birthday made a much bigger deal than my officemates. So. I see.
And now let's talk about the rest of this natal commemoration! Birthday wasn't the best. Night-before-Birthday dinner plans (convoluted, with much eggshell stepping) eventually got established and a reservation was made, I drove the aforementioned friend with me, and as we were turning into the parking lot Goldie's sway bar bent really badly. Then dad decided he wanted to go out and look at it. I KNEW the car was going to need to be towed, but, hey, he's my dad. He had me back up a foot or so.
Me: "Dad, I don't think that's a good idea."
Dad: "Just do it, kid."
Swaybar: "BREAKCLUNKSNAPcracklepop!"
It's not like I didn't forsee something bad happening, but I felt like a terrible car mom. Josh got me roadside assistance when we signed up for our phones, so I knew I could get the car towed to the shop where all her work gets done. I thought I could go inside and get through dinner and then take care of setting that up, but nooooo. Parents insisted otherwise. Took 20 minutes to get through hold, being put on hold several times, and the operator asking me to repeat the information. 20 minutes while my guests sat in the restaurant and I stood outside, trying not to cry. The roadside assistance covered the first $50 of towing, so I knew I'd be out a bit but could handle it. As we were finally finishing up the operator said the tow truck would arrive in about 45 minutes, and I said that wouldn't be a problem but I was going inside to have dinner with my family and friends, so if there was any way the ticket could be placed a little later in the queue that would be fine, no rush. He made some bumbling noises-- he was almost a completely useless schmuck-- and about 15 minutes later I got a call from the tow truck driver. This actually ended up working out well, since afterward I could enjoy dinner without worrying about any more interruptions. Mom walked out to the car with me, which was nice, and then when I started to fill out my card information asked what I was doing. AAA could have done it for free, was her point. But mom and dad are AAA members and I am not, and no one volunteered the service (nor did I expect them to). Thankfully this seemed to be quickly got over and $54 later Goldie was on her way to Tuffy. Dinner never seemed as comfortable for my guests as I wanted it to be, but the food and service were great. Our waiter brought out a little dish of defuckinglicious mango ice cream with a candle stuck in the middle. I made a wish. I did not wish for graduate school acceptance, a move I am rueing most ruefully now, over a week later.
Monday was my actual birthday. Monday I was supposed to hear from graduate school. Monday I did not. I was miserable at work and miserable at school. After school I decided to go to the county tax collector's office to renew my registration, register the Vespa in my name, and get the motorcycle endorsement on my license. I forgot the two pieces of mail I needed for the DL transaction, so I motored home to get those. Got back at 4:01. They won't process a license change if you pull a ticket after 4:00. Okay, been that kinda day and I know they have rules. I waited to take care of the registration stuff.
I have never had a bad experience doing DMV stuff, and until now I haven't understood the bad rap those offices and employees get. But oh. Oh, do I now.
A woman I am convinced graduated summa cum unpleasantus from Beezelbub's Online anti-Charm Academy "helped" me. She was a BITCH. I cannot say it enough. So I got done with what I could do, walked back up to the truck (mom loaned me hers while Goldie was in the shop, another good thing that should have been mentioned at the start of this entry), and had a small, long overdue nervous breakdown. Tried to straighten myself up so I wouldn't look like... I did, I guess, when I paid for parking. Got home. Parked truck. Continued breakdown. Eventually I seized upon a mantra that helped me calm down ("You're going to move to Wisconsin, you're going to live with Josh, and he loves you no matter what"), and I made my way inside. Kerflopped. Considered asking the aunts if we could do Indian birthday dinner another night. And shortly after I decided that wasn't the best idea, one of the aunts knocked on my door.
The other aunt had run out of gas and was stuck. The other car wouldn't start. I began to suspect witchcraft.
We fought traffic to get to the gas station. We fought traffic to get out of the gas station. We made a dangerous U-turn I would never, ever have executed had I been in my right mind. The gas wasn't flowing into the tank. Aunt-I-Am-Actually-Related-To found a stick. We all got home. I explained the cruddy turn of events at the tag agency and that no, I hadn't heard anything from UW-Madison. Dinner went well enough. Poor Josh called later that night and I'm so, so lucky he's still with me. I was so depressed.
Tuesday--! I was still depressed. I was convinced I would never hear from or get into graduate school. And then I got an email.
Waitlisted.
At the time I was so relieved to hear anything, anything from them that I felt much better. The reality of not knowing where I am on that list or if the waitlist is a soft no bugs me a bit, but after talking with Josh (he's a miracle worker), I think I'm alright. I would love to get in this year, but if not I'll have residency established and I have a plan to make myself a very attractive applicant the next go 'round. I'm a little stuck as to what to hope for, honestly. I want in. I don't want the delay of a year in my hazy plans for getting married and having a child in the future. But it really might be better to wait. The only hang up on that is that I'm scared about getting academic letters of recommendation, since I won't have taken a class with my UCF professors in over a year if I'm in the admissions ring again next year. Part of my plan is taking one of the SLIS courses as a non degree seeking student and wowing the tar out of that professor. I guess I could take two. I'm just not sure.
More crap at work, mostly being away from my desk for 9/10 of my shift with no warning or expressed exemption from the expectation that I do everything I have to do at my desk. The girls in my office acting (maybe they're not acting) like they're so sad I'm leaving in May two days after they barely registered that it was my birthday. Major senioritis. Just. don't. wanna. do. any. more. work. I'm doing it, but always after digging in my heels for laziness, justice, and the American Way first. The shower bench that geriatric housemate uses appears to have been permanently moved into the bathroom, so I have to wrestle it out every morning. He keeps leaving the light on, I keep turning it off. Battle of the generations if e'er there was one.
Came home at lunch today and my birthday card from Josh wasn't in the mail. Don't know what I did to irk who with what power, but today's rain has suited the mood of things pretty well. But the rain's also been badly needed. I'm realizing lately that-- if you forget the occasional meltdown-- I'm an optimistic person, but that I don't want to throw my hope into something and look foolish. So I'm not taking anything from it being raining but that it's raining, and that the rain is needed.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Also
The housekeeper's husband just flooded the bathroom. The old man complains (loudly) if the water is too cold, so I can see what the H'sH was doing; he turned the water on to make sure it was warm before he went to get the old man for his shower. But HH left the showerhead hanging on its cord, facing outwards. Towards my door. So as I was studying a few minutes ago I noticed an unusual noise, and then a puddle coming through the crack between the door and the floor.
I will be in Wisconsin tonight, I will be in Wisconsin tonight, I will be in Wisconsin tonight.
I wanted rugs for my room (it's tiled) for Christmas, and mom got me two. Between the cats spraying them and these exciting sudden floods, I don't think I've gotten to have both on the floor for quite some time.
I will be in Wisconsin tonight, I will be in Wisconsin tonight, I will be in Wisconsin tonight.
I wanted rugs for my room (it's tiled) for Christmas, and mom got me two. Between the cats spraying them and these exciting sudden floods, I don't think I've gotten to have both on the floor for quite some time.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
On Living With Others: A Series of Complaints (I am an only child)
I live with my sort-of cousin (I call her my aunt) and her wife. I love them and generally want to grow up and be at least a tenth as cool as they are. I love living in Orlando, so close to work and school. I love having a room that I don't have to worry about anyone barging in on or going through. I love my little kitchen and the way smells go through my whole living space when I make something yummy (though I learned in class yesterday this is very American and a French person would detest this circumstance-- there goes that dream). I have windows and a comfy chair and a very comfy bed and now a desk with a good chair, and life in my room is great. But there are times when I need to use the bathroom. Fact of life.
I hate sharing a bathroom with an old man. I fucking hate it. It gets worse and worse. I repeat my plea to anyone listening, should they have power or not: I never ever ever ever ever want to be an old man.
When he first moved in the toilet was equipped with stabilizing bars (to hold onto, I guess?). That wasn't really a big deal; easy to ignore. But then used diapers were just... left... on... the... towel stand. I think I may have gone into shock the first time. Totally not prepared for this. It hasn't happened more than those first few times so it may have been adjustment, but oooooooooh was I less than overjoyed. I am downright mad now when the seat is less than clean, we'll say. I'm sorry to bring these things unpleasant things up, but I'm really frustrated and need to vent.
He also uses ridiculously amounts of toilet paper. Sometimes the aunts provide this, but I've taken to going to Big Lots and just getting big packs myself.
There's no regularity to when he needs to use the bathroom and I understand when you've got to go... Yeah. But if I'm using the bathroom myself, or getting ready in the morning, more often than not he will swear loudly if the door is closed. I've been introduced to him several times, and last weekend I tried to help him at 1 in the morning when he fell. It does not seem to stick for him that I live here, and that the bathroom is not locked just to inconvenience him. I've tried timing my mornings several different ways but there's no definite or even semi-reliable time to take a shower that won't bother him. I can't do it at night, either. I'm a bit scared to shave because sometimes he'll bang the hell out of the door and that makes me jump. And forget taking a bath. :{ I bought a small stash of bath bombs with a birthday giftcard to Lush last year and ended up giving them to my friend; I'll never get to use them here.
The bathroom is also open to the main house now (it used to be closed off and part of my area of the house), so the dogs have access to the room. The dogs are cute, this is no big deal. The dogs using their puppy pads only 2/3 of the time is a deal. 'Cause the bathroommate sure isn't bending over to take care of that stuff. And the housekeeper who helps him shower and stuff does not appear interested in dealing with the situation, though to her credit she may be missing what I see when I get home, and I might be missing things she deals with. I'm willing to assume that.
It appears impossible that he use the bathroom without muttering to himself or swearing at the dogs if they follow him in. There is only a door between my room and the bathroom, so at 1 in the morning (it's just our special time, apparently) this noise is less than welcome. I found a great website last semester that generates noise to cancel what's around you, and I use it a lot when I'm home.
Generally the lights over the sinks are left on all the time. I don't see why this is necessary during the day, but whenever I shut them off they're always back on soon enough. Lately he has decided to leave the light over the actual W.C. area (which is just within that door) on all the time, too. So to check and see if someone is there, on the offchance he's not muttering? I have to look under the door to see if his feet are there. I feel disgusting when I do this, and doing it in front of Josh over the holidays was humiliating.
So I got a text message from my aunt while I was having tea with some friends: We don't want to catch you playing on the new toilet set-up. She was being funny and I hadn't seen it yet, so assuming it was new arms or something I responded You're no fun. How will I develop my latent gymnast skills?
There is a pillow thing glued to the top of the toilet seat. The opening is not large, and this is going to be a goddamn nightmare. I can see my thighs getting very toned, which is good. But that is the only foreseeable good. For a brief moment I weighed the move-back-in-with-mom-and-dad option. My senses weren't far enough gone to make that seem like a good idea, but oh my god. What next?!
At the same time, this is one of the aunts' dad, and they can't not accommodate him, you know? I am not the kind of family that he is, and though he scares me and I generally don't want to think about him I don't want him to be uncomfortable or have a hard time getting around.
There's also the having to get past him to do laundry thing, which I circumvented last time by going through the garage (since his door wouldn't open; I assume he locked it), but that's not exactly ideal either. In part because he scares me I'm not comfortable just walking through his room, and when I do I have to maneuver the laundry basket around his furniture.
Tomorrow night I'll be in Wisconsin. Tomorrow night I'll be in Wisconsin. Tomorrow night I'll be in Wisconsin. Breathe in, breathe out.
I hate sharing a bathroom with an old man. I fucking hate it. It gets worse and worse. I repeat my plea to anyone listening, should they have power or not: I never ever ever ever ever want to be an old man.
When he first moved in the toilet was equipped with stabilizing bars (to hold onto, I guess?). That wasn't really a big deal; easy to ignore. But then used diapers were just... left... on... the... towel stand. I think I may have gone into shock the first time. Totally not prepared for this. It hasn't happened more than those first few times so it may have been adjustment, but oooooooooh was I less than overjoyed. I am downright mad now when the seat is less than clean, we'll say. I'm sorry to bring these things unpleasant things up, but I'm really frustrated and need to vent.
He also uses ridiculously amounts of toilet paper. Sometimes the aunts provide this, but I've taken to going to Big Lots and just getting big packs myself.
There's no regularity to when he needs to use the bathroom and I understand when you've got to go... Yeah. But if I'm using the bathroom myself, or getting ready in the morning, more often than not he will swear loudly if the door is closed. I've been introduced to him several times, and last weekend I tried to help him at 1 in the morning when he fell. It does not seem to stick for him that I live here, and that the bathroom is not locked just to inconvenience him. I've tried timing my mornings several different ways but there's no definite or even semi-reliable time to take a shower that won't bother him. I can't do it at night, either. I'm a bit scared to shave because sometimes he'll bang the hell out of the door and that makes me jump. And forget taking a bath. :{ I bought a small stash of bath bombs with a birthday giftcard to Lush last year and ended up giving them to my friend; I'll never get to use them here.
The bathroom is also open to the main house now (it used to be closed off and part of my area of the house), so the dogs have access to the room. The dogs are cute, this is no big deal. The dogs using their puppy pads only 2/3 of the time is a deal. 'Cause the bathroommate sure isn't bending over to take care of that stuff. And the housekeeper who helps him shower and stuff does not appear interested in dealing with the situation, though to her credit she may be missing what I see when I get home, and I might be missing things she deals with. I'm willing to assume that.
It appears impossible that he use the bathroom without muttering to himself or swearing at the dogs if they follow him in. There is only a door between my room and the bathroom, so at 1 in the morning (it's just our special time, apparently) this noise is less than welcome. I found a great website last semester that generates noise to cancel what's around you, and I use it a lot when I'm home.
Generally the lights over the sinks are left on all the time. I don't see why this is necessary during the day, but whenever I shut them off they're always back on soon enough. Lately he has decided to leave the light over the actual W.C. area (which is just within that door) on all the time, too. So to check and see if someone is there, on the offchance he's not muttering? I have to look under the door to see if his feet are there. I feel disgusting when I do this, and doing it in front of Josh over the holidays was humiliating.
So I got a text message from my aunt while I was having tea with some friends: We don't want to catch you playing on the new toilet set-up. She was being funny and I hadn't seen it yet, so assuming it was new arms or something I responded You're no fun. How will I develop my latent gymnast skills?
There is a pillow thing glued to the top of the toilet seat. The opening is not large, and this is going to be a goddamn nightmare. I can see my thighs getting very toned, which is good. But that is the only foreseeable good. For a brief moment I weighed the move-back-in-with-mom-and-dad option. My senses weren't far enough gone to make that seem like a good idea, but oh my god. What next?!
At the same time, this is one of the aunts' dad, and they can't not accommodate him, you know? I am not the kind of family that he is, and though he scares me and I generally don't want to think about him I don't want him to be uncomfortable or have a hard time getting around.
There's also the having to get past him to do laundry thing, which I circumvented last time by going through the garage (since his door wouldn't open; I assume he locked it), but that's not exactly ideal either. In part because he scares me I'm not comfortable just walking through his room, and when I do I have to maneuver the laundry basket around his furniture.
Tomorrow night I'll be in Wisconsin. Tomorrow night I'll be in Wisconsin. Tomorrow night I'll be in Wisconsin. Breathe in, breathe out.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Just got home...
...From buying my Jimmy Eat World ticket. This is the first time I've gone to a concert by myself and I am a little nervous about that but thrilled. Mostly thrilled. Let's say the nerves are just there for show.
Woo! A week from now I will heading out for the concert!
Woo! A week from now I will heading out for the concert!
Thursday, January 27, 2011
The ol' Frustration
My mom and I get along a lot better than we used to (and generally we get along much better when we don't live together), but I'm pretty upset with her right now. When I tried to explain why I was unhappy, she responded in a way that I really, really didn't appreciate. She later wrote more without swearing.
One of the things that I like to attribute to my mom is my ability to stand up to people. But this is only other people, and honestly I'm not that good at it. I've made progress in the last few years, but that progress was all after effing things up pretty terribly by not standing up to people for the few years before. Anyway. I'm an only child and when I argued with my parents as a teenager they were right. Alright, they're my parents. But that taught me over time the futility of arguing anything, and for awhile that really messed me up. I am still scared to disagree with them outloud.
There's also lingering resentment on my part about the way my mom and I seem to remember different the circumstances of my leaving home. Usually we have a great time together and laugh a lot and hey, that stuff's in the past and we're better now. It doesn't bubble up... except the times when we're not better. I love Josh and I love my dad and I love my best friends, and when those people upsets me it hurts, really bad sometimes, but there is no one who cuts quite as deep as my mom, and no one who makes me cry as often as she does. She's not a terrible person and in many ways she's a great mom, the best mom. There are plenty of times when we make each other laugh until our sides hurt. And given the precedent set by her family, I'm glad we're even in touch; she doesn't talk with her mom and the why of that has never been discussed.
I don't feel like our disagreements are fair, and I don't like how she's able to reasonably treat her friends or sister when they point out that she's hurt their feelings, but when dad or I disagree with her it's okay for her to swear and demean and talk to us like we're idiots. If someone is not getting your point (They are smart people, but I've seen my parents talk to one another and completely miss what the other was trying to get across before-- mom invariably gets angry, or at least what I think of as angry), try to explain. I know I go crazy sometimes when Josh doesn't understand what I'm saying, but I try to stick with it and let the wave crash on the rock and get over it after, you know? Mom doesn't stay mad forever but her rages are terrible. I don't think she has any idea what she sounds like when she is angry.
Anyway. It's harder to speak up to my parents than it is anyone else. I don't know if they know that. I'd imagine they don't or don't care in the moment of disagreement, because they can seem pretty angry at me just for disagreeing.
I love my family, and I wouldn't trade them. Thinking of times in my life when I lied about them to make them seem like more interesting people now seems stupid; there are plenty of fascinating things about them and there is a lot to love about my mom and my dad. They've taken care of me. I hope we'll all be happier as our lives go on because our family is small and I believe it's important to all of us.
ETA: Got an "I'm sorry I overreacted to what I feel is an overreaction on your part" message, which is
fair enough.
One of the things that I like to attribute to my mom is my ability to stand up to people. But this is only other people, and honestly I'm not that good at it. I've made progress in the last few years, but that progress was all after effing things up pretty terribly by not standing up to people for the few years before. Anyway. I'm an only child and when I argued with my parents as a teenager they were right. Alright, they're my parents. But that taught me over time the futility of arguing anything, and for awhile that really messed me up. I am still scared to disagree with them outloud.
There's also lingering resentment on my part about the way my mom and I seem to remember different the circumstances of my leaving home. Usually we have a great time together and laugh a lot and hey, that stuff's in the past and we're better now. It doesn't bubble up... except the times when we're not better. I love Josh and I love my dad and I love my best friends, and when those people upsets me it hurts, really bad sometimes, but there is no one who cuts quite as deep as my mom, and no one who makes me cry as often as she does. She's not a terrible person and in many ways she's a great mom, the best mom. There are plenty of times when we make each other laugh until our sides hurt. And given the precedent set by her family, I'm glad we're even in touch; she doesn't talk with her mom and the why of that has never been discussed.
I don't feel like our disagreements are fair, and I don't like how she's able to reasonably treat her friends or sister when they point out that she's hurt their feelings, but when dad or I disagree with her it's okay for her to swear and demean and talk to us like we're idiots. If someone is not getting your point (They are smart people, but I've seen my parents talk to one another and completely miss what the other was trying to get across before-- mom invariably gets angry, or at least what I think of as angry), try to explain. I know I go crazy sometimes when Josh doesn't understand what I'm saying, but I try to stick with it and let the wave crash on the rock and get over it after, you know? Mom doesn't stay mad forever but her rages are terrible. I don't think she has any idea what she sounds like when she is angry.
Anyway. It's harder to speak up to my parents than it is anyone else. I don't know if they know that. I'd imagine they don't or don't care in the moment of disagreement, because they can seem pretty angry at me just for disagreeing.
I love my family, and I wouldn't trade them. Thinking of times in my life when I lied about them to make them seem like more interesting people now seems stupid; there are plenty of fascinating things about them and there is a lot to love about my mom and my dad. They've taken care of me. I hope we'll all be happier as our lives go on because our family is small and I believe it's important to all of us.
ETA: Got an "I'm sorry I overreacted to what I feel is an overreaction on your part" message, which is
fair enough.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
In the midst of things
In the midst of things (and really it's hardly as though the happiness is an island), life seems better than okay lately. School is demanding but not depressingly so, work is demanding but not depressingly so... I guess I'm just feeling buoyant.
(Fuck trees, I climb buoys, mother fucker!)
Got off the phone with Josh a few minutes ago, and it was a fun, long conversation. Love him, love those. My French homework is all done, and tomorrow I will hopefully come home from a shopping expedition with a chair for the desk. It will be so much better to have a surface to spread stuff out when I'm doing work for school. The desk has two shelves on the right side, coming out from that side's legs, and they're convenient for my little stash of writing implements and my notebooks and of course the textbooks themselves.
Financial aid disbursed (quickly!), so I used the money to buy the last outstanding textbook, Reconstructing Human Origins. I think the class it's for is going to be my favorite. Lots of specificity and skeletal emphasis and terms in Latin so I feel hella smart. Truly, what else is college about? I guess some people don't study bones but I feel they're missing out. More or less in that interest I'm going to join the anthropology club at school. I signed up to go to the first field trip, to Ponce Inlet and Turtle Mound. They're not very far from home and I don't think I've been to either before. Should be fun. I've also got all the upcoming lectures I know about on my calendar, and I'd like to go to as many as possible. I wish that I had been brave enough to do these things two years ago.
A lot of my free thought time is devoted to what's going to happen in May. The registrar's office is continuing to withhold the commencement dates for individual colleges, apparently just because it's amusing when students go into a panic. I'm convinced the university not-so-secretly just lives for that. My mom is the chairwoman for Relay for Life in the area where my parents live, and commencement weekend and Relay weekend are one and the same this year. If I could just figure out when my college is graduating (Friday morning, Friday morning!), I can let mom know, and I can figure out when I can be moving.
I'd planned on starting the road trip north the day after commencement, and I think that's how it will end up happening. That won't really leave any time for extended goodbyes or post-graduation parties with my friends and family in Florida, so maybe we can do something in advance. I'm really hoping my ceremony will be Friday morning, and then I can try to have lunch or dinner with friends. Patriet are coming, and my parents (mom said she'd be there even if it was Saturday-- originally she said she wasn't and later my feelings were really hurt, but later she said of course she'd be there), and hopefully Josh's parents. And Josh, of course.
More later.
(Fuck trees, I climb buoys, mother fucker!)
Got off the phone with Josh a few minutes ago, and it was a fun, long conversation. Love him, love those. My French homework is all done, and tomorrow I will hopefully come home from a shopping expedition with a chair for the desk. It will be so much better to have a surface to spread stuff out when I'm doing work for school. The desk has two shelves on the right side, coming out from that side's legs, and they're convenient for my little stash of writing implements and my notebooks and of course the textbooks themselves.
Financial aid disbursed (quickly!), so I used the money to buy the last outstanding textbook, Reconstructing Human Origins. I think the class it's for is going to be my favorite. Lots of specificity and skeletal emphasis and terms in Latin so I feel hella smart. Truly, what else is college about? I guess some people don't study bones but I feel they're missing out. More or less in that interest I'm going to join the anthropology club at school. I signed up to go to the first field trip, to Ponce Inlet and Turtle Mound. They're not very far from home and I don't think I've been to either before. Should be fun. I've also got all the upcoming lectures I know about on my calendar, and I'd like to go to as many as possible. I wish that I had been brave enough to do these things two years ago.
A lot of my free thought time is devoted to what's going to happen in May. The registrar's office is continuing to withhold the commencement dates for individual colleges, apparently just because it's amusing when students go into a panic. I'm convinced the university not-so-secretly just lives for that. My mom is the chairwoman for Relay for Life in the area where my parents live, and commencement weekend and Relay weekend are one and the same this year. If I could just figure out when my college is graduating (Friday morning, Friday morning!), I can let mom know, and I can figure out when I can be moving.
I'd planned on starting the road trip north the day after commencement, and I think that's how it will end up happening. That won't really leave any time for extended goodbyes or post-graduation parties with my friends and family in Florida, so maybe we can do something in advance. I'm really hoping my ceremony will be Friday morning, and then I can try to have lunch or dinner with friends. Patriet are coming, and my parents (mom said she'd be there even if it was Saturday-- originally she said she wasn't and later my feelings were really hurt, but later she said of course she'd be there), and hopefully Josh's parents. And Josh, of course.
More later.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Two weeks (nearly) down
Schools bopping along well enough. Now that a big convention is over at work I've got more time to sleep, and that's a big big biiiiiig plus. I think the semester is going to go well, though it will, as originally expected, involve a lot more work. Tonight when I get home I'm going to finish my assignments calendar, which should help me stay on track.
Had to order a microphone for French class so I can record exercises throughout the semester. I wasn't thrilled, but I found a decent-seeming one on Amazon and I'm hoping it will be waiting for me at the door when I get home.
Booked a cruise! My best friend and I are going the first weekend of spring break. I think it's fair to say we're both working/being worked pretty hard lately, so this will be a nice getaway. And it should be a lot of fun to do with her; we're a good girly team. There's a day at Nassau and we might elect to do some overpriced snorkeling. I'd like to browse the Straw Market even as I'm terrified to browse the Straw Market. It would be nice to get some souvenirs from the island instead of the boat, this time.
So I'm counting down to the cruise (43 days!) and to seeing Josh again (21!). I've felt particularly lovey lately, sweet and amorous both. I like thinking of the latter countdown in terms of 10 day blocks. Really, there's just two more to get through! This sort of thinking, where I bait myself, is very sad but often helpful. Getting excited about May and all the transitions that will happen then. Sometime after I've moved to Wisconsin I'll be joining my parents in Arizona for a trip. Jazzed about that. There are a lot of things I want to see in that particular state.
I've managed to get all my assignments (except the ones that require a microphone) done, but the past week has been a blur. I'm so glad that convention is over. It was really cool and I'm a bit sad I won't be here for the next one, but man did it wear me out. Paycheck will be worth it. Paycheck will be worth it. And there's only one week left until I get said beautiful paycheck! Praise Pringles.
Now that it's over, though, I feel a bit as though a subway train has rushed me by and I've been left reeling on a platform, not quite sure which way to go or even what exactly has just happened. But still swaying.
Life is good, though. Aside from missing the boyfriend and sharing a bathroom.
Had to order a microphone for French class so I can record exercises throughout the semester. I wasn't thrilled, but I found a decent-seeming one on Amazon and I'm hoping it will be waiting for me at the door when I get home.
Booked a cruise! My best friend and I are going the first weekend of spring break. I think it's fair to say we're both working/being worked pretty hard lately, so this will be a nice getaway. And it should be a lot of fun to do with her; we're a good girly team. There's a day at Nassau and we might elect to do some overpriced snorkeling. I'd like to browse the Straw Market even as I'm terrified to browse the Straw Market. It would be nice to get some souvenirs from the island instead of the boat, this time.
So I'm counting down to the cruise (43 days!) and to seeing Josh again (21!). I've felt particularly lovey lately, sweet and amorous both. I like thinking of the latter countdown in terms of 10 day blocks. Really, there's just two more to get through! This sort of thinking, where I bait myself, is very sad but often helpful. Getting excited about May and all the transitions that will happen then. Sometime after I've moved to Wisconsin I'll be joining my parents in Arizona for a trip. Jazzed about that. There are a lot of things I want to see in that particular state.
I've managed to get all my assignments (except the ones that require a microphone) done, but the past week has been a blur. I'm so glad that convention is over. It was really cool and I'm a bit sad I won't be here for the next one, but man did it wear me out. Paycheck will be worth it. Paycheck will be worth it. And there's only one week left until I get said beautiful paycheck! Praise Pringles.
Now that it's over, though, I feel a bit as though a subway train has rushed me by and I've been left reeling on a platform, not quite sure which way to go or even what exactly has just happened. But still swaying.
Life is good, though. Aside from missing the boyfriend and sharing a bathroom.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Ce semestre...
Hoo boy. Hoo boy howdy? Iunno. I just like "hoo boy."
Anyway.
Holidays were wonderful. Josh flew to Florida Christmas Eve morning and we got to spend that afternoon with his whole family-- it really couldn't have worked out better. His parents (who hosted, so obs they were there), grandparents, and his sister and her family were there, and it was great. His niece got the kid's version of Just Dance, so she, Amanda and I did that for a few songs. It's quite silly but it's also pretty fun if you're not busy being self conscious. Josh's mom sent us home with Goldie's Dream Cake to eat the next morning, since that's a Collins family tradition. Holy cow, I am glad of that. Goldie's Dream Cake is delicious. It's a yummy cake (!) with some sort of fruit preserve laced through it, and it's crumbly at the top. God I wish it was Christmas morning again.
Christmas Day we spent with my family, and that went well, too. Josh seemed a lot more comfortable and I think that helped everyone have a good day. This year's Christmas memory is Alex's Unfortunately Named Entrée. Since I decided I wanted to do the holidays like a good vegetarian, I didn't have turkey or anything else suspect at Thanksgiving. I looked up vegetarian options for a Christmas menu item everyone might like to try, and found...
Nut Loaf.
When I was explaining my idea to Josh's parents in November, they were amused but kind. Josh laughed. So for a while I called it "Solid Stuffing" when I was describing it to others. And then I came up with "Alex's Unfortunately Named Entrée," which sort of defeated the point but was less immediately mortifying. Mom decided it should be called Testicle Loaf, which stuck. Still (and honestly in part because of that), Christmas was wonderful. Testicle Loaf turned out really well!
Josh and I flew to Wisconsin together the Tuesday after Christmas. Got bumped up to first class for the longer flight, which was really nice. When we flew up together last January, when he moved, we had to buy first class tickets since those were the only ones left. So I'm hoping that's the establishment of a fantastic pattern. We shared our tray tables and set up Josh's laptop to watch an episode of Castle together and got to snuggle a bit on both flights. It was a fairly nice trip up, really.
The visit was wonderful: we planned out a menu for the week together and stuck to it pretty faithfully. We/I made pasta! I got embarrassed when Josh pointed out that it didn't make sense to convert ounces to cups (or whatever I was trying to do; I just hate hate hate looking stupid in front of him) and shooed him out of the kitchen. But we made up and he helped me hang the noodles over every available saucepot handle and rim. The noodles turned out really well; this is definitely something I want to do again but I'd like to get a pasta stand first.
I'd really love to learn how to make everything in a simple noodles, sauce, garlic bread meal. Sauce is my next project, I think. Maybe for the weekend before Valentine's Day, which is the next time we'll be together.
Leaving was rough, as usual. And this week since has been pretty tough for all the usual reasons: I don't feel like he misses me anything like I miss him, my period (sorry, internet) is going to start any minute now, things are crazy at work... And additionally, though not a common circumstance: school started Monday. Which brings us to the title of this post.
This is my final semester at UCF, and I'm pretty excited about that. The completion of this term is going to be big turning point that I've been waiting for what feels like a very long time: I'm going to start living with Josh. And also I'm graduating and stuff. I was pleased with myself for getting through Valencia but that felt like a precursor to UCF, and getting through the past two years and getting to be a full-time student-- not in the ideal situation, but being a full-time student was a dream in and of itself-- and doing well in several cases makes me proud of myself. I haven't been trying to top my parents, and I don't think that's exactly possible, but I know that I feel like more of an adult on their level now (or will in May), knowing that we've all got baccalaureate degrees. My parents are great people who have never made me feel like a degree was an irreplaceable measure of worth, but I respect that they have them.
I'm taking my second course of French, this time for real. Also the three anthropology classes I need to complete my degree: Human Origins, History of Anthropological Thought, and Language and Culture. It's worked out that these are all upper division anthropology requirements and that I'm finally taking them during my last semester. This week has been the first time I've been in such PACKED classrooms. Students who were unable to register online because the classes were full showed up the first class meeting trying to get overrides. Very full. I want everyone who wants to graduate to get to do so, but I hope there's more breathing room in the classrooms next week!
The classes are going to involve a lot more focus and time than I've applied to other classes. The assignments seem to be on a schedule in each class, which is very helpful, but there's a lot more work for these assignments than has been required in other classes. So I'm a little nervous. I'm also determined to do well, but nervous just the same.
Figured out how to conjugate la passé composé et l'imparfait this afternoon during some good library time, so that's making me feel much better. I'm not sure yet when they are supposed to be used (these are both past tenses, but I'm sure there's a distinction and I don't know what it is), so I'll ask Madame tomorrow. I hope French is going to go well. The first course was wonderful and I want to learn this, I really really want to learn this.
My work schedule is also pretty smooth, if a shock to my sleep system: 7:30-11 each weekday, and class of varying lengths of time after. The getting up early is killing me and I'm exhausted but I think tonight will finally be the night when I fall asleep before midnight and wake up surly and too tired to move.
Got my room cleaned up as a new semester/new year effort. It looks nice and it makes me feel much better about the place. My parents are giving me the student desk that was in the kitchen (sort of a satellite office), so I'll bring that home next week and set it up here, where it is much needed. My options currently are stand (nowhere of good height to put a laptop), lay or sit on bed (I am dangerously prone to naps, especially lately), or sit in the comfy chair. The latter is great for pleasure reading but terrible for studying; there's nowhere to put my notebook if I'm looking at my textbook, blah blah blah. So yaaaay, desk get!
I have friends at school! I am shy enough that this thrills me. I like these people and I hope we'll get to spend time together outside of class.
Anyway.
Holidays were wonderful. Josh flew to Florida Christmas Eve morning and we got to spend that afternoon with his whole family-- it really couldn't have worked out better. His parents (who hosted, so obs they were there), grandparents, and his sister and her family were there, and it was great. His niece got the kid's version of Just Dance, so she, Amanda and I did that for a few songs. It's quite silly but it's also pretty fun if you're not busy being self conscious. Josh's mom sent us home with Goldie's Dream Cake to eat the next morning, since that's a Collins family tradition. Holy cow, I am glad of that. Goldie's Dream Cake is delicious. It's a yummy cake (!) with some sort of fruit preserve laced through it, and it's crumbly at the top. God I wish it was Christmas morning again.
Christmas Day we spent with my family, and that went well, too. Josh seemed a lot more comfortable and I think that helped everyone have a good day. This year's Christmas memory is Alex's Unfortunately Named Entrée. Since I decided I wanted to do the holidays like a good vegetarian, I didn't have turkey or anything else suspect at Thanksgiving. I looked up vegetarian options for a Christmas menu item everyone might like to try, and found...
Nut Loaf.
When I was explaining my idea to Josh's parents in November, they were amused but kind. Josh laughed. So for a while I called it "Solid Stuffing" when I was describing it to others. And then I came up with "Alex's Unfortunately Named Entrée," which sort of defeated the point but was less immediately mortifying. Mom decided it should be called Testicle Loaf, which stuck. Still (and honestly in part because of that), Christmas was wonderful. Testicle Loaf turned out really well!
Josh and I flew to Wisconsin together the Tuesday after Christmas. Got bumped up to first class for the longer flight, which was really nice. When we flew up together last January, when he moved, we had to buy first class tickets since those were the only ones left. So I'm hoping that's the establishment of a fantastic pattern. We shared our tray tables and set up Josh's laptop to watch an episode of Castle together and got to snuggle a bit on both flights. It was a fairly nice trip up, really.
The visit was wonderful: we planned out a menu for the week together and stuck to it pretty faithfully. We/I made pasta! I got embarrassed when Josh pointed out that it didn't make sense to convert ounces to cups (or whatever I was trying to do; I just hate hate hate looking stupid in front of him) and shooed him out of the kitchen. But we made up and he helped me hang the noodles over every available saucepot handle and rim. The noodles turned out really well; this is definitely something I want to do again but I'd like to get a pasta stand first.
I'd really love to learn how to make everything in a simple noodles, sauce, garlic bread meal. Sauce is my next project, I think. Maybe for the weekend before Valentine's Day, which is the next time we'll be together.
Leaving was rough, as usual. And this week since has been pretty tough for all the usual reasons: I don't feel like he misses me anything like I miss him, my period (sorry, internet) is going to start any minute now, things are crazy at work... And additionally, though not a common circumstance: school started Monday. Which brings us to the title of this post.
This is my final semester at UCF, and I'm pretty excited about that. The completion of this term is going to be big turning point that I've been waiting for what feels like a very long time: I'm going to start living with Josh. And also I'm graduating and stuff. I was pleased with myself for getting through Valencia but that felt like a precursor to UCF, and getting through the past two years and getting to be a full-time student-- not in the ideal situation, but being a full-time student was a dream in and of itself-- and doing well in several cases makes me proud of myself. I haven't been trying to top my parents, and I don't think that's exactly possible, but I know that I feel like more of an adult on their level now (or will in May), knowing that we've all got baccalaureate degrees. My parents are great people who have never made me feel like a degree was an irreplaceable measure of worth, but I respect that they have them.
I'm taking my second course of French, this time for real. Also the three anthropology classes I need to complete my degree: Human Origins, History of Anthropological Thought, and Language and Culture. It's worked out that these are all upper division anthropology requirements and that I'm finally taking them during my last semester. This week has been the first time I've been in such PACKED classrooms. Students who were unable to register online because the classes were full showed up the first class meeting trying to get overrides. Very full. I want everyone who wants to graduate to get to do so, but I hope there's more breathing room in the classrooms next week!
The classes are going to involve a lot more focus and time than I've applied to other classes. The assignments seem to be on a schedule in each class, which is very helpful, but there's a lot more work for these assignments than has been required in other classes. So I'm a little nervous. I'm also determined to do well, but nervous just the same.
Figured out how to conjugate la passé composé et l'imparfait this afternoon during some good library time, so that's making me feel much better. I'm not sure yet when they are supposed to be used (these are both past tenses, but I'm sure there's a distinction and I don't know what it is), so I'll ask Madame tomorrow. I hope French is going to go well. The first course was wonderful and I want to learn this, I really really want to learn this.
My work schedule is also pretty smooth, if a shock to my sleep system: 7:30-11 each weekday, and class of varying lengths of time after. The getting up early is killing me and I'm exhausted but I think tonight will finally be the night when I fall asleep before midnight and wake up surly and too tired to move.
Got my room cleaned up as a new semester/new year effort. It looks nice and it makes me feel much better about the place. My parents are giving me the student desk that was in the kitchen (sort of a satellite office), so I'll bring that home next week and set it up here, where it is much needed. My options currently are stand (nowhere of good height to put a laptop), lay or sit on bed (I am dangerously prone to naps, especially lately), or sit in the comfy chair. The latter is great for pleasure reading but terrible for studying; there's nowhere to put my notebook if I'm looking at my textbook, blah blah blah. So yaaaay, desk get!
I have friends at school! I am shy enough that this thrills me. I like these people and I hope we'll get to spend time together outside of class.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)