So Close, Yet...

Tomorrow is my last day of class ever. I've already blogged about this. But I still have one more paper left to write, and that's really wearing me down.

I was supposed to get started on this paper two weeks ago. I was supposed to work on it all last week. I was supposed to research it and begin writing it Saturday. I was supposed to finish writing it yesterday. Did any of those happen? No. Of course not. In the true spirit of procrastination, I am doing this final paper correctly--at the last minute.

Tonight, I am supposed to finish my paper. I do believe this will happen, since I am not one to turn in late assignments. However, I also have two other assignments due, and those are currently taking a back seat (as if there is another back seat left on this procrastination bus).

So here's to old habits, excuses, and plain ol' not wanting to do homework. Wish me luck, I have a long night ahead of me (all nighters are sooo undergrad).

A Little Late for Resolutions...

When the New Year rolled around, who knows what I was doing (actually, I was probably shoveling snow off my mom's car in Colorado), but I was too busy to think about improving myself. Realistically, I knew it wasn't going to happen in coordination with the start of 2007. But now, with my thesis behind me, and what feels like a new life ahead, I am going to start a list of things to accomplish.

• Read all the books I've been ordering on Amazon but haven't had time to read yet. This should carry me through June.
• Learn French. I've already started this, but with the thesis and end-of-the-semester papers, this pursuit has taken a backseat. I've discovered podcasts and websites to help me learn, and hopefully I'll be able to say something other than "What date is your birthday" soon.
• Garden. Not only are my house plants suffering from neglect, but my green thumb has been ignored so long it's faded to a wan-pea-soup color. Ewww. I hear sunlight is the cure.
• Travel. This list is long, and always the most difficult to fulfill. I have plans for a trip to Buenos Aires in October (and I'm looking for a travel partner). Smaller trips include (but are not limited to) road trip up or down the California coast, British Columbia, Texas, Minnesota, and Hawaii.
• Keep my house clean. Oh wait, this list should be inspiring. Dare I bog myself down with chores? The answer is yes. Having a bedroom as messy as mine is embarrassing and distracting.
• Train Oscar. Despite being the world's best dog, Oscar needs some work. He pulls on the leash, barks at dogs, and growls at anyone wearing a hat. Oh boy.
• Ride my bike more. I love going fast on my road bike, and I could use the exercise.
  

Well there it is. I hope you weren't expecting things like bungee jump, or space travel, or swim the English Channel. Those things are for people who like big rubber bands, have lots of money, or know how to swim. I am none of those, and I apologize if I disappointed you.

My Life Continues

I just turned in my thesis. The weight of the past two years has finally been unchained, and I can move and flex and walk and...oh, what should I do with myself?

I've been looking forward to some feeling of freedom. Like, what will it be like to come home from work and not have to pull out my laptop and write a paper? What will it be like to travel on the weekend with a book I chose to read myself? What excuse will I think of to get out of keeping the house clean (because really, that is my biggest concern)?

But I also hope that the weight of the past two years continues to exert itself from time to time. I don't want to forget what it's like to work on my writing. I don't want to forget how good it feels to finish a story and think that someone else might like to read it. That, more than obtaining an official looking degree, is what I went to school for. I needed discipline, and I really hope that part of that lesson sunk in and became a part of me.

The celebrations have not yet begun. David offered to throw a party, but my inclination is not to have one. My first big deadline has come and gone. There will be many more. This is my new life, and I hope it's a hardworking one.

Birthday Dog Blog

I can't believe that Oscar's birthday has come and gone, and I didn't blog about it. I'm feeling very guilty, and if I had a tail, it would be between my legs. Sorry Oscar.

Oscar's birthday, April 15th, is an arbitrary date. We knew he was probably born in April, based on when he began losing his puppy teeth. I chose the 15th because it is smack dab in the middle of the month. Just because tax day also traditionally falls on this day does not mean we should think any less of Oscar.

On Oscar's big day we took him on a forbidden bike ride. Although Oscar is small in stature, he is the best for taking on a bike ride. He's not so big that his joints and size slow him down. He zips up and down the trail, and probably covers twice the ground his human companions bike. Seeing Oscar run would bring a smile to anyone's face. He lights up, opens his mouth and flops his tongue over his teeth, lays his ears back, and takes off, as though he were a windup car that has been waiting to be released. Running is his favorite thing to do, so of course, we were going to take him for a nice run for his birthday. The only problem is that most trails don't allow dogs, and if they do, they are supposed to be on leash. It is nearly impossible to successfully bike with your dog on leash.

But hey, you do what you can to make your loved ones happy. Oscar ran off leash. We were prepared to pay a fine. Thankfully, the day turned out well for everyone. No fine for us, and Oscar was so blissfully happy by trail's end that it made breaking the rules (dare I say the law?) very much worth it.

For dinner, Oscar dined on flank steak. He was a happy boy. He deserves it. He's a good dog.

Happy Birthday Oscar!

Sleepy Blogger

I had the most difficult time blogging yesterday. I want everyone to know that, in case you were wondering why I was not only talking about 6th grade, but writing like a 6th grader. The reason was because I had stayed up the entire night before putting together my final story for workshop. I kept falling asleep while writing my blog, and even though I started dreaming, I kept typing. That's right, I was typing my dream. It was such a fascinating idea that I decided to write a big long email to David and see what happened. Here are some exerpts from my dream email (copied exactly as they appeared in the email):

I can't believe I'm not sleeping yet. I don't know what the deal is, I'm really sorry to waste your time, maybe I'll erase all these and then I'll put ( I had a hard time finding his sweater here).

Can you imagive being a doctor? Whow, the email I am typing to you looked like a logo just now, and I was going to ask you where you were going. What country are you visiting? I want to go somewhere warm so that I can wear my shorts. You want to go somewhere where there aren't so many locals. we hate people. I would rather eat a sunflower.

Remember when you were speaking Spanish and the guidebook had been drawn on? Who brought the kid to dream about thigs. Not meDo you have to wear a diaper there? Because I don't have one for my family.

You souh read my sample outine with the double boiler
wow, I'm super tired. I just had a little dream about winning the Double Tree. Now I'm sleeping. I wonder if this will be hoof ro you. Does she have a lazy eye too? I can't tell. I can see the heat from the sun backthat side. There I went, drooling again.

Stapler Fear

My stapler ran out of staples today. It's such an infrequent ocurrance that I take it as an omen.

Nothing has happened yet (but the day isn't over). I'm worried this one will be a bad omen. In sixth grade, I put a fairly heavy-duty staple into my thumb. They had to use a long flat screwdriver to get it out. Then I got to sit at the receptionist's desk for the rest of the afternoon, which was a fun little job. I think I remember seeing the staple in 6th grade on the other side of my nail, and that image wouldn't shake from my mind.


So I'm not sure how to take the stapler omen...should I prepare for an evening of kicking my feet up and relaxing, or should I grab a box of band-aids and avoid sharp objects altogether? I hope not the second, because I nearly had an incident this morning. I put the wrong size staples into the stapler, and then the top kept springing back on my vulnerable hand. I was having serious flashbacks.
I am afraid of my stapler.

This Goes Out to My Grandma

It's Grandma's 80th birthday today. What I love most about the whole situation is that she's excited, and she still looks forward to her birthdays.

Weeks ago, she revealed to me that she had never had a birthday party. It was a big hint: throw me a party, or else. Just kidding. She's not like that. But seriously, I knew the party would be a big deal to her.

The invitations have been sent out, the location has been booked, and the menu written. There will be friends and family (minus one V.I.Son, but that's a whole other story and not blog material), a little booze, a game or two, and the best part of all--a Hollywood theme. I'm putting my photoshop skills to good use and transforming old photos of her into starlet movie posters. I've also ordered some party decorations to help set the mood. I plan on making her wear a boa throughout the whole event, and maybe even some kitschy costume jewelry, and long gloves. I can't wait to see it all turn out, and see her have a great time.

Happy Birthday Grandma! Love ya!

JEaNS

I've come to a sad realization. My jeans are out of shape. I know the old trick: wash them and they will be restored. But after a while, they are just too worn out. They hang from the hips without attitude. They make my butt look like a sunken pie.

And what makes it worse is that jeans are so difficult to shop for (unless you have that "certain" figure, the one even sweatpants look good on). So when the day rolls around when your jeans give you the "I just don't have the energy" look, and they begin to suck the life out of the rest of your outfit, it's only natural that you put off the search for a new pair. It's just too much work, and the jeans concur, "Nothing is worth making an effort for anymore."

Once you muster up the energy to go shopping, the word has spread. Your jeans have told every other pair of jeans in the entire world that you are coming. Therefore, every pair you try on skips straight to the hanging "I don't wanna make your ass look good" phase. The trick is to be impulsive. Grab a pair on your way to lunch. Don't take your old jeans with you. Better yet, don't even try them on.

I'm still waiting for the full bad-jean coma to sink in. Besides, I don't have time to shop for jeans (is that me or the pants talking?).