Like gold to airy thiness beat...

Interestingly, Blogger no longer works from my house... so. It's been a while since I've posted anything.

Last Wednesday was my third anniversary with Tim. For some reason, I keep wanting to say it's the fourth or fifth, but that's probably because there is no room left in my brain for real life. All the available space has been taken up by lyric poetry, New Testament Christology, important dates of the French Revolution, and the meaning of Metaphysics.

I'm tempted to say, "I can't believe it's been three years..." But really, I can. We like each other. It's pretty simple. It's actually harder to believe that I've lived in the Pussycat Palace for a year and a half, or that we went to France two years ago (!) than it is to conceive of liking Tim so much. He's pretty much amazing.

We couldn't really do anything for our anniversary on the 17th, since I had to lay out the paper. (The paper, by the way, looks amazing. I think every article got turned in for the first time in HISTORY and Versha is inspiring in her enthusiasm.) We went to Tacomania with Carly, who gave me a gift certificate to eat there, because she's awesome too.

This weekend, we went to Marshall, TX and spent the night in a B&B called "The Three Oaks." We really didn't get to do too much about the town because it was raining and all but two shops were open. We walked around away and had a hot chocolate in an art gallery full of horrible, overpriced local art. We went to dinner at a place called OS2, where there was a table full of southern ladies wearing tiaras and another full of women dressed like movie stars. Marilyn Monroe, Roxie Hart, Meryl Streep, Princess Grace, Audrey Hepburn, etc. etc. etc. One cosmopolitan after another.

The Bed and Breakfast was AWESOME. The "inn-keeper" was a former belly dancer and rennie, who was the first stranger I've met in the "real world" who understands the joy of getting paid insult people and throw meat at them. The house was over a hundred years old and we had a claw-foot bathtub IN our room. There will be a bathtub in every room of my house someday. For breakfast we had raspberry-stuffed french toast with fresh pears and strawberries which was fabulous for me, but sad for Tim, who could only eat his sausage links. The look on his face when the host set a cup of coffee in front of him was pricelessly sad.

The two other guests at breakfast were a pair of romance novel writers who talked about each other but not themselves. "Diane writes crime romances." "Well, Susan writes paranormal loves stories." "She writes great love scenes." They were hilarious.

Beyond all that, I absolutely love my job in the President's Office. Ms. Connie is funny as hell, and therefore extremely fun to work with. And I have to admit that having the President of the College personally compliment you is a great confidence booster.

Things are good. Jason and Kristin have a Wii and my iPod's in the mail. I still fit in my bride's maid dress and I haven't gotten a migraine in a few weeks... I can't complain.

I'm talkin' to you...

but you're not listenin'
I don't know what to do
my heart is blisterin'... ~Joshua Radin

Stupid use of apostrophes, I know, but it's basically how I feel. How do you help someone who won't even talk to you, let alone listen? Why are teenagers so terribly saddening?

The first week of school has been relatively uneventful. I've got my head in the gutter, because, once again, I've got other people's tragedies on my mind. I'm never having kids. Just plants. Or, I'm only having kids if they listen to my wisdom as well as my plants do.

This semester is going to be over before I even know it. Working in the President's office is a blast and all of my classes are already tying in to eachother and overlapping, just the way I like it.

I miss the old TKE house and everyone in it with my whole heart. It's friday night and I just want to sit on the front porch and watch everyone's drama revolve around and through the house. Oh, and listen to booty music instead of this sad-sap music that makes me sad about everything I surely can't fix.

Burn it down, Charlie Brown

In case you can't tell, I've been avoiding the internet like an ebola enraged monkey. The basic reason for that is that if I have to choose between thinking about responsibility and thinking about twinkly christmas tree lights and candy, it's clearly wiser to choose the latter. Not that my break was in any way uneventful.

Things I did:

-Went to the doctor FOUR times. Heck of a way to spend a vacation, eh? But I feel grand. It was one of those chain-reaction type surgery-gives-you-sore-throat-gives-you-bronchitis-gives-you-ebola-gives-you-crabs kind of things. Just kidding about the ebola and the crabs. Sorry.

-Burned down a house. I'm pretty sure it was illegal, but we burned down my grandpa's old vet clinic. Basically, they pushed it into a ravine, poured gas on it, and lit it on fire. People don't believe the stories I tell about living in the country, but I think it's only because they're jealous that nothing this bizarre happens in their daily lives.

-Had a family crisis. It's still not resolved, but maybe I'll tell you about it in like hundreds of years when we can all look back and laugh.

-Got some great presents and (I hope) gave some too. I always underestimate just how vast and varied is the number of material objects one can find for purchase on this planet. In the category of priceless things, my family gave me the 105 year-old camera that belonged to my great grandparents. I got to spend quality time with my parents for the first time in what feels like years. Emily picked me over going home to Denver on New Years, even though there was nothing to do in the valley. My stepdad made jerky out of an elk he pried out of a fence. I got to see a blizzard. My dog loves me. And Tim called me everyday, so I felt neat-o.

Now I'm home (shreveport home, not real home) and I'm not liking how I feel about this semester. I think I may be unfit to be a grown up, because I really just want to sleep in, watch movies, and try out new recipes all day instead of going to class or work. Maybe that's everyone, I don't know.

But I'm not going to waste my last semester of undergraduate college whining about how much I'd rather be asleep. Tim and I will be going off.... somewhere... in less that six(!) months. I should appreciate it. Though, I have to say, I rue the day when Jason and Kristin move away because they are absolutely my favorite couple of people to hang out with. I was looking forward to the faraway day when my kids and their kids could hit eachother while we drink daiquiris and ignore them.

Yay, holiday breaks!