Sing

This video is my latest obsession. I can't stop watching it. It's kind of bizarre, I know, but it seems like I pick up a new detail every time I watch it. It seems I've always had a penchant for bizarre, futuristic Blade Runner-esque stuff. I've never been into My Chemical Romance, but I watch Glee and they did a cover of this song, so, of course, I, like I'm sure many others, went to check out the original. And I discovered this little gem. And it doesn't hurt that the song is incredibly catchy.

So anyway, UGA this past weekend was lovely. I mean, the visit couldn't have gone any better. I met lots of people, was able to kind of get a feel for the department and was able to talk with people who are interested in the stuff I'm interested in. I picked up many reading suggestions and a few journal articles as points of departure for this idea I have in my head for a possible dissertation topic. But I've got time for that. I'm looking forward to getting started in the fall. Time to strike out into new territory again.

I will admit that part of my reluctance comes from a little liar who comes around and tells me that if I start a PhD program, my chances of ever meeting anyone will plummet even further. But then I kind of shake myself and reason things out this way: If starting my PhD is supposed to take me further from meeting the (within truly exaggerated air quotes) man of my dreams, how is NOT starting a PhD program going to bring me closer to meeting him? I've gotten up to this point without pursuing a doctorate without having magically happened upon him, so . . . (the plausibility of magically happening upon him to be discussed at a later date).

Anyway, I've never known what I wanted to do. I still don't. But I know I've always been pretty cool with my state of affairs when I've been in school. I dunno. School is just something I've always been good at. I would love to be a professional student. But it's just dawned upon me that I can be. As a professor. I would teach (which I adore when my students aren't recalcitrant ingrates) but I'd also research, and keep learning stuff. I like being a nerd. Why not get paid for it?

I had a teacher moment last night. Tears almost sprang to my eyes. In my Intermediate professional development Spanish class last night, one of my students blew me away with how much she'd learned! Their homework was to write a paragraph introducing themselves, telling what they do for a living, describing their families and the places they go during the week. Just an attempt to help them review the many things they'd learned in the Beginning class as well as the new things they've learned in Intermediate. The thing is, it's not like she'd created some fancy, perfect composition, using complex verb tenses and an extensive vocabulary. She simply took the basic things we'd learned in class and went all the way with it. It was fabulous.

The other day I was in the copy room and an incredibly cute, braided, beaded little girl who was supposed to be taking a diagnostic test in another room wordlessly wandered in and encircled my waist with her little girl arms and rested her head against me. Lord, my ovaries.

I think I'm going to get a pedicure today. My toes are up for a little pampering. The weather is demanding they be presentable.

Embark

Ahem.

It has been a little while since this little blog baby has gotten some TLC. Here I sit, nursing a bowl of lukewarm oatmeal, trying to figure out what I'm going to wear on Monday.

Today, I'm heading out to spend time with some friends in GA for the weekend, and then Monday, I go up to UGA for a little departmental visit. The department is reimbursing me for all my travel expenses, food and hotel stay. Sweet. I should look professional, but don't want to be overly dressy.

There's a lot going on, and a lot I have to do. I feel unprepared. What kinds of questions am I going to ask? I have to strike a balance between confidence and humility. I have to come across like I have something to bring to the table. I can't just be this wide-eyed, gushing little girl.

Where am I going to live? Where am I going to go to church? I'm going to visit around a little bit this weekend.

And then there's Lord Henry. What I have to realize is this: Moving to start my doctoral program in August could be turning a clean, new, unfettered page, or it could be the beginning of another downward spiral. It simply cannot be the latter. I've suffered enough and have overcome too much.

I was gleeful to get my Word Aflame Press check in the mail. Remember those stories I was talking about? I got those suckas finished off and submitted. And ya girl got paid.

I also have a slight cough that tastes like Ramen noodles. I never get sick. At least I didn't wake up this morning like I did yesterday feeling like a weed-whacker went crazy in my throat. I don't claim it. I don't claim it in JAY-sus name!

And the weather, oh, the weather. Thank you for warming up, weather. Warmth makes things brighter and happier.

Snippets

While procrastinating on putting in my Spanish students' credit hours into the professional development system (by watching Glee and Community on Hulu), it dawned on me that I pledged to make brownies for a Sunday School bake sale. Oh, frobscottle.

I still need to get my life together. I have a visit next weekend to my future home of higher learning, and I need to make arrangements. The prospect of moving and doing a long-term new thing is trickling down into my psyche. I have the chance to be a new me. Why continue stumbling along when I can stop, take a deep breath and start walking tall?

I got my hair did (yes, "did") and want to whip it back and forth.

I ate my entire dinner last night with chopsticks. I'm pretty good with them.

I really don't want to go out into the cold to get brownie mix. Plus I might run into someone I know yet don't want to see at the supermarket.

Update: Mom had already bought brownie mix (score!) and I'm also making heart shaped gingerbread cookies from mix left over from Christmas. Hearts because of the impending Valentine's Day. All of that to say I didn't have to go out into the cold.

Speaking of the impending Valentine's Day and being out in the cold . . .

Agh. Nevermind.

On this dreary Friday morning, I reflect.

Middle brother's going to Iraq today. Again. Not out of obligation, but out of choice, which really burns my biscuits. I could see if he was a patriot or something, but he's chasing that paper. That's it. I love the kid and I know he has his reasons. But he's stubborn. It's flinty-edged. I know what I'm doing. I'm a man. I have to do what's right for me. I'm doing it despite what you think. I'm. I. I. I. Well, I'm big sister, and I'll always be. I know France and Iraq are worlds apart, but why I went to France and why he's going to Iraq coincide like the middle part of a Venn diagram. And I tried to tell him. Running away from it will never resolve it. It'll follow you there. And it'll still be there when you get back.

Last night, I wanted Cheezie's pizza. Pepperoni and cheap and good. They close at 9:00. The Lord sent green light angels and gave my car the wings of the morning. I got there at 8:55. The lone pizza guy there was young and my smile softened his heart. He just happened to have made one pepperoni pizza too many. It was the will of God. I told the pizza guy that, too.

I just have to accept the fact that if anyone of the opposite sex in my orbit ever shows up on my father's radar, he will scrutinize every single thing. There will always be flaws. They will never measure up. Even if I have previously rejected the person as a serious contender myself, my father will remind me of the flaws and accentuate them and exaggerate them. No matter who it is or how I old I get, my father will do this. My father will also act hard core if a situation arises where I won't be around (i.e., getting accepted into a PhD program a state away). He is proud of me, but he can't be effusive about it because he is a dad. And I am a daughter.

I have a good car. I love my good old car. The only times I've had to take it in for anything serious was because of something dumb I did. My check engine light came on when I got into my car the other day. The next day the light was off. If it comes back on, I'll take it in.

My official acceptance letter came in the mail today. Forms and forms and forms. O ye of no health insurance and out-of-state status.

Life doesn't go as planned. It just doesn't. So what's a girl do to?

1. Have a meltdown every time it doesn't.

2. Enjoy the ride.

I'm shooting for #2.