i should be drinking

...but it gives me headaches the next day!

Well. I am having a glass of wine. Today is pretty significant in my life so far.

When we left photo MIAMI last night, the stroll out to our car was glamorous. So I took a picture of the occasion.

i just got my life back

::click click::

last paper of my graduate school career was just submitted.

::sighs deeply::

and then...

::glug glug glug glug glug::

Well, later on tonight at least.

ala nerdiness

I strongly dislike Dakota Fanning.
Why did she turn up on a READ poster?

Also, she needs some socks.

good news came in the mailbox today

I passed my comps exam!
Does that warrant splurging on a bottle of Veuve?
I think so.
::glug glug glug glug glug::

Graduation is mere weeks away. Weeks. AHHHH!

Also, I am compelled to share an article regarding audiobooks by Stephen King, from his column in Entertainment Weekly: Hail to the Spoken Word. On my list of many things to do once I "settle" - revisit the book on tape.

I listened to them like crazy when I was youngererer.
See?:

happy as A fuckin' clam

I have three e-mail accounts. I regularly check two of them. The third one, my university account, is quite neglected. Just to give you an idea of when I last checked it: September 18th. I could very easily have my university account messages forwarded to my e-mail account of choice. But that would be too easy and too convenient.

I checked my university account today. I don't know why, but I had the urge.

So glad I did.

What's this? An e-mail from one of my professors sent last Tuesday...? Hmmm, let me see what this is all about...

"I subsequently have decided to offer students who are taking comps this semester a one week, no penalty extension on the policy analysis assignment."

What?! I have an extra week to write a paper I thought was due tomorrow?!

Excuse me - either I found a time machine, or...¡Ave Maria! E-mails work in mysterious ways.

Now if you'll pardon me, I am going to let out all of my tension over some champagne and quality pets time. Woohoo!

this post brought to you exclusively by immaturity:

Times New Roman is the fucking devil.

channeling my inner jane

How I feel today:

the marathon

• This morning, I woke up with two aching calves. To be more specific, the pain was so intense I can only describe it as someone jumping on the backs of my legs, and then ripping my muscles into pieces with a knife. When the worst of the cramping passed, I wanted to vomit. I cried like a baby. Not long after I woke up, I wrenched my neck. Obviously, I'm tense. Maybe all of this rapid moving from house to house isn't so good for my body. I don't know. The timing couldn't be worse.
• I have two papers due Tuesday. One of them is an exam paper that I am only three pages into. I need to churn out seven more pages. It has to be "perfect" - it's the paper we wannabe librarians have to write in order to graduate. The other one I haven't even started - it's also to be ten pages. I have absolutely no interest in writing either paper, which is usually no different from any other paper I write (sadly), but...well, my neck hurts. I can't go on!
• Do not see All The King's Men that's currently in theaters. You will end up pulling the straw out of your 64 ounce Coke and stabbing it in your left eyeball just for something to do - for something to happen.
  
• A request: if you have a time-machine in your basement or garage, could I borrow it? Thanks.

A Schedule for Sunday. I wish.

Once again, it is time to showcase another vintage nursery rhyme illustration. If I could have any name other than my own, I would want Bo-Peep. Do you think I would be taken seriously?

Remember the 'Bo Knows' ad campaign for Nike?

I spent this lovely Saturday doing research, reading, and homework. Tomorrow I will wake up early to enjoy my Sunday morning (coffee, donuts, and the Sunday paper are in full order), and then I will head off to the library and search endlessly for books and journal articles about Max Weber, author of The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism (which is more or less a "debate with the ghost of Karl Marx"). I cannot wait! Especially since I intend to do all of the above with a Starbucks cappuccino in one of my hands (I just typed "in one of my heads." I'm scared, folks). Oh, for the love of political sociology. For the love! It has made me fully aware that I'm a walking contradiction. But I like to think I'm a good contradiction.

Have any of you bloggers read S.E. Hinton's The Outsiders? I'm embarrassed to say that I never had any exposure to it until this year. Until recently this year. I haven't read it yet, but decided to do some author research before I started. Hello! That S.E. was only 18 when it was published (and I assumed S.E. was a dude, stupid me)! I read an essay she wrote about her career as an author - she wrote it when she was 29 - and gave some perspective on who she was while she wrote The Outsiders. Fas-ci-nating, folks, fas-ci-nating. I'm in love with her now. All I have to do is start reading.

Rose Update: The roses do smell, folks, they do. And they're opening up just lovely.

the whole pacakge.

I'm getting a graduate degree in ___________. (You have to guess).

I had one of my first classes tonight and it was a little depressing. You know those friends you make that are in your particular area of study, and you end up having every subject-specific class with them and you even go out for drinks after class or on the weekends to get to know each other better and kvetch about things beyond your professor's crying fits or that one "non-traditional" student that pipes up with the same anecdote during every discussion? (Exhale Madge, and quit writing such long sentences). Yeah, those friends? Those really lovely friends that are going exactly what you're going through and it's kind of fateful that you ever really meet in the first place? Those are the ones I'm talking about. Ahhhhhhhh.

My friend like that got married in July and took off for Nawth Carolina and now we will never have another class together again.

I wasn't expecting to be so bummed out. I almost started to cry when "non-traditonal" student piped up with the same anecdote, still, one year later no less, in a completely different class. I had no one to turn to and exchange goofy facial expressions with. So now I will turn to you. Except, unless I get all artsy with my digital camera, you won't see my facial expressions.

[And by the way, "non-traditional" student will get zero blog time from me. You can guess all of the stories about her that I will never tell, because I am so irritated with her today that I would rather have Dr. Peter Venkman give me shock therapy for being right and ugly than have to think about her anymore.]

Okay you bloggers: here's a little story about the new student I didn't know sitting to my left: he was wearing sweat shorts.

Ewwww. Sweat shorts. Men in sweat shorts. (That's really all the more glory that random guy is going to get from me. Now it's on to Memory Lane).

I couldn't help but remember, when I saw those hot puppies, that one of the first times I went out to dinner with my boyfriend and his dad, I saw a man in sweat shorts, sitting with one leg up on a chair. Because of those two things happening at the same time, sweat shorts and leg up, I saw his buck-fifty flapping in the wind like a "look mom! no hands!" maneuver that children do on lame roller coaster rides.

The entire time we were eating.

So the whole time, whilst in class, I was thinking about that crusty old memory. And why everyone in my future profession is such a fucking weirdo. One exception being a newlywed in Nawth Carolina. And me. That makes two.

I am such a dense critical thinker.