Nice job




There were only 4 A's on the test I mentioned in the previous post. I had the highest grade in the class---a 95. I missed a couple multiple choice but nailed the essay question for the full 20 points. Kinda-hott-but-maybe-just-creepy professor told me "Nice job" as he handed it back. He had no comment for anyone else's test. In short, I'm rocking POLS 37--'s face off.



Last night I went over to CV's for beer and television. We watched The Office (so good) followed by Grey's Anatomy (best episode EVER). Then we decided to go to our local bar/club and flirt with the cute bartender and maybe some of the cute clientale.



Unfortunately for us, Thursday nights is "jungle bass" night. I mean, WTF?? Who listens to jungle anymore? What is this, 1998? (And if it is 1998, where was the x and the glow sticks?) The clientale was as to be expected (pretty much completely disappointing), and we had no luck prowling. CV at least got hit on, but we're not really sure if that was a compliment or not since the guy was, in CV's words, "totally K-Fedded out."



However, we did get our third round of drinks free, so going out wasn't a total wash.



Tonight I'm going to a play with some people I haven't seen since New Year's Eve, and tomorrow I go see Patrick in Statesboro.



And this totally cracks me up: http://www.theonion.com/content/node/53278

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First test of the semester, and I'm 99% certain I made an A.



It's almost October, and that means lots of fun weekend road trips (Georgia National Fair! Oktoberfest! Grandma and Grandpa's house!) It also means fresh apples, cooler weather (it was sooo nice and chilly this morning), Halloween costumes (and I've got a good one up my sleeve), and registering for my spring semester classes. That's right...soon and very soon I'll be starting my "senior" year of college. Dear god, sometimes I thought I'd never get here.



Dancing With the Stars is my perfect Tuesday night unwinding activity. Plus I get to call in and vote for my favorites. Tonight I voted for Willa Ford, because she really is good and I feel bad that she's almost been eliminated twice. I keep trying to vote for my boys (Mario Lopez and Joey Lawrence) but I can't get through on their numbers. I guess all the rest of cheesy America loves them too.



My bronchitis is 95% gone now, which is great. I can actually do basic human activities like walk across campus or laugh at a joke without succumbing to a horrible coughing fit.

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Thursday is the new Friday



Since I don't have work or school on Fridays, Thursday is my Friday. Tonight the new seasons of The Office and Grey's Anatomy premiered, thus making this the best Thursday (Friday?) ever.



CV and I also booked our room for Oktoberfest tonight, which is something we've talked about doing for about a year. I've never been to Helen for Oktoberfest...in fact, haven't been to Helen since I was a little girl, so I'm super excited about the absolute cheese of it all. (Helen is a town in North Georgia that's been tarted up to look like a quaint Bavarian village. It's total 100% cheese product.) Maybe we'll meet the men of our dreams there...or at least some drunk Good Ol' Boys.

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This is for Christin, per our conversation earlier today RE: Dancing with the Stars




http://popwatch.ew.com/popwatch/2006/09/mario_lopez_is_.html

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Sophomre Reality



I got an e-mail from my university's career services with the above phrase as the subject. Wow. I just had to share.

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Several things




1) When I was younger, I used to think my Uncle Rob was the coolest person ever. He embodied (in my mind) the very best of the Gen X slacker dude of the nineties. I mean, he (in no particular order, and all before I turned 13) did an archeological dig in El Salvador while still in college, was engaged to a vegetarian artist with waist-length hennaed hair (he eventually broke it off), hitchhiked up and down the West Coast (much to my Grandmother's worry and chagrin), worked with Vietnamese refugees on what pretty much amounted to a commune in rural Georgia, had a ponytail, moved to Tacoma in 1993, and a few years later ended up in Seattle, where he's been ever since. He's now married with twin babies. I think he easily qualifies as "coolest dad ever." (See picture at top of post, note Wu-Tang Clan t-shirt)





2) I'm feeling better today. The roomates let me drink their Pedialyte. I called in sick to work. My fever broke sometime mid-morning. Several persons called to check on me. I caught up on every episode of this season's Project Runway that I'd missed. My daddy brought me lunch.





3) I'm still adjusting to this whole being single thing. At first it was like, "Awesome! I have all this alone time!" Now it's more like, "Uh...I have all this alone time...does anyone want to talk to me? Please?" I called Rob (The Ex) tonight and talked to him about this. (After a summer of mostly ignoring one another, we're finally at a point where we can begin to rebuild a friendship without it being completely and totally weird.)




"Yeah, it's definitely been an adjustment for me, too," he said.





"I mean, we were together for a fourth of my life. That's a long time. (pause) No wait, a fifth. A fifth of my life. That's still a long time."





"Yeah, it is. We were together for only a sixth of my life, so I guess it's not quite as hard for me."




That made me laugh and feel a little better.





4) I hate grocery shopping these days. I used to love it, and I still do if I have more than just myself to cook for, but shopping for one is incredibly depressing. Your basket ends up looking like a horrible Lean Cuisine/Yogurt/Granola bar/Ice cream Bridget Jones-meets-Miranda Hobbs nightmare of single-girl-in-the-city loneliness.





And I don't really cook anymore. And I love to cook! Cooking was one of those decompressing activities I loved to do after work or school. It took my mind off of everything and produced something delicious and useful at the end. I think I need to find more excuses to cook.

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My last post was a little bitter.




I think I have the flu. I thought I'd "gotten better" over the weekend, but today, during my last class, I started feeling light-headed and nauseated. I thought about how embarrassing it would be, to be that kid in POLS 37-- who vomited in class. I'd forever be known as that kid who vomited in the middle of maybe-hott-but-also-kind-of-creepy Prof's lecture on the various paygrades and classifications of federal employees. Then they'd have to bring in the kitty litter to throw on the puke and I'd get sent to the principal's office so the secretary could call my dad to come pick me up and everyone else would get to go outside for an early recess.




Sorry, got a little retro-delusional for a moment. Back to the present.



Thankfully class ended early without me vomiting. I called Ori and told her I would not be working out today, and then suffered through an excrutiatingly pungent MARTA ride home. I try to be a good girl and support my mass transit and whatnot, but MARTA really does smell bad.



I felt really weak and gross and passed out for a couple of hours. Then I got up, ate some soup, and took my temperature. 101.1 degrees Farhenheit. Damnit.



I guess I'll have to call in sick to work tomorrow, which sucks since we were going to go have a "working lunch" at this marketing firms swank digs in Midtown. I was really looking forward to it, too. Sigh. Maybe I'll feel up to it in the AM...

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10:15pm, Friday night




"Hey, I'm just calling to see how the movie was."




"Oh, there was no movie. I got cancelled on at the last minute."




"So what are you doing instead?"




"I'm sitting here watching public broadcasting, which I totally don't mind doing on a Friday night, but it has to be my choice. I have to CHOOSE to watch public broadcasting on a Friday night...it totally sucks if you're doing it because your plans fell through at the last minute and it's way too late to make other plans."




"Oh, I so know what you mean." (pause) "Do you want to go get a cup of coffee or a beer or something?"




"YES!"

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Everyone in my house is sick.




How's everyone in your house?

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Recipe for the hangover from hell



1 glass of wine + 1/2 cup of cider + 1 Long Island Iced Tea + 1 PBR + 1 Cranberry Margarita muddled with 7 cigarettes = Feeling like shit at school the next day



Apparently college kids don't drink anymore, at least the ones in my classes. Everytime I turned bleary-eyed to one of my classmates and mumbled, "I'm sorry, I'm just really hungover," they all looked aghast and said something about how they don't drink. WTF?!?!? I'm the oldest person in most of my Tuesday-Thursday classes and I'm the one showing up hungover. It's shameful. It totally explains why my school is not considered a first-tier school. How can you claim to have received a proper liberal arts education without knowing how to properly nurse a hangover?



I also had my first yoga class today after I finished with my academic classes. I thought I'd signed up for an hour session but I actually signed up for an hour and a half. I was a little worried that this was going to end poorly, what with the hangover and all, but it actually went really well and I ended up feeling almost human by the end of it.



Yeah, this entry totally proves that sometimes I just write things here because I have nothing better to do.

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