Monday, April 20, 2009

Hotdogs Have Ear-Sight

In fourth grade, my bestie Cheyenne and her little sister Michelle wrote this song. I still remember all of the words and it gets stuck in my head all the time. 17 years later. See if you can tell this was written by an 8 year-old and Sing Along!

Hot dogs have ear-sight
Hot dogs have ear-sight
Hot dogs have ear-sight
and there's nothing you can do about that.
FAT
Fatty-Fatty Two-by-Four, couldn't get through the bathroom door
So he did it on the floor
How is that for Fatty-Fatty Two-by-Four
FOUR
Four little doggies sittin' in a tree
One, two, three
They all go pee.
PEE
TEA
Tea tea my dollies drink tea
And Hawaiian Punch
PUNCH PUNCH
KICK KICK
Sock 'em in the nuts!
NUTS
HUTS
Fairy huts
Made of tulips and daisies
Whoopsy Daisies!
There go my undies!
and they're covered with....

Hot dogs have ear-sight
Hot dogs have ear-sight
Hot dogs have ear-sight
And there's nothing you can do about that...

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Honk Honk

Well. I'm sending my first check to Georgetown tomorrow.

Despite the knowledge that this is merely the first in a long line of checks, it fills me with an overwhelming sense of calm. OM.

What fills me with an overwhelming sense of excitement, however, is the fact that Kristin is coming this weekend. Our friend Barb (who was in Kristin's wedding with me) is moving to Iraq in about two weeks, so Kristin's coming to see her off.

What this means for me:
Kristin on my couch
Barb Party
Zoo on Saturday
Shopping at H&M with a girl
Jeopardy Drinking Game Party
Tequila Queso
Roxieritas
Homemade Salsa
Best not-quite-but-almost Earth Day ever.

Every time I talk to Kristin, she suggests something else to do that I could not possibly want to do more. Get out of my dreams and into my car.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

oh beneficent something, anything...






When I was living in the blue house, I made up one of those "necessity recipes" where you have a little of this and little of that and something totally mind-bogglingly awesome... it was this, red-wine-fresh basil-italian sausage soup.

After the first time, I made it again like three times because it was so awesome and I guess I figured I'd remember what I did because I NEVER WROTE IT DOWN. Now those three ingredients have met in my refrigerator again in a perfect storm of awesomeness and I can't remember what else goes in the pot.

Chicken stock? Tomato? Probably garlic... uhhhhh.

The last recipe written in my cookbook is Kacie's recipe for Monkey Bread, which, BTW, I didn't realize she had written there so about a month ago I frantically searched all over for a recipe and ended up using one from Food Network because I couldn't get a hold of Kacie. Exciting story, I know.

The only real news on the graduate school front is the Georgetown should cost half as much as expected because they only want me to take 2 classes a semester if I go there. Fair enough. The only problem is, I can't really strangle any information out of their financial dept. I miss Mary Sue Rix like no one's business. I would pay her to come be my life financial consultant.

Purdue said they're "very impressed by my application but waiting to find out if they have a TA for me, because they don't admit anyone without funding." So that's basically the exact opposite of the problem I have with Georgetown.

UW? Tulane? MIA.

AND--Georgetown sent me an email telling me that rather than needing to know by the 20th, they need to know my decision by the 15th. GREAT. (I replied and said, "Um.... kthx, but r u shur we cant w8?")

It's so odd how there are always things like this going on in life. There's never a day when you say "I have absolutely nothing to take care of. I'm not waiting to find out about anything. There is nothing in the universe required of me, and vice versa."

How is that possible?

If I wasn't fixating on Grad School right now, what would I be doing instead?

I think about this a lot. Like, what are all of the potential things I could be spending my brain energy on right now--but instead I happen to solely focused on this.

Where is my sausage soup?


Thursday, April 02, 2009

Good Vibrations

I love.
Good music.
Mix tapes.
Free things.
Amazon.com.
My laptop.
The interwebs.
Downloads.
Free good music download mixtapes from the interwebs on amazon.com
Here.

Gold Teeth

About two weeks ago, two things happened on the same day that were oddly ambiguous in a very meaningful way.

1. I got an email from Georgetown telling me that I had been "recommended" for admission to their graduate program, which at the time was almost more nerve wracking than exciting but in case you don't know I'll spare you the suspense and just tell you that (it's confirmed) I got in.

~and~

2. I got a letter from CU in Boulder saying that I was not admitted. Period. No suspense there. Thank you for your time and money.

The reason that these two events are more ambiguous than they seem, and not as outwardly "good" and "evil" as they appear is deep and wide.

First things first: I didn't really want to go to CU as a school. But I did want to go to CU, and be on the campus that I love, and be near my family, and root for MY football team for once. CU didn't really offer the kind of program I wanted and I don't really agree with the school's politics--but I could have paid in-state tuition, and I know the campus so well it's like already being home. And I just really, really, really miss Colorado. I miss my family everyday. I can't say for sure if I would have gone to CU just to be near them, but I would have liked to have the option.

Now: Georgetown. Georgetown is the kind of degree I want to hang on my wall. My God. However there are two looming issues. 1.) Tuition is over $1500 per credit hour (*gasp*choke*gag*) and I get the impression I'm going to have to wring any financial aid information out of them and 2.) I don't want to live in DC. Still. Anymore. Ever. At all. Of course, staying here means I get to stay with Tim while he PMFs and undertakes his metamorphosis into bureaucracy (God, I hope not) and then we can keep playing house until it's time for me to get my PhD or he takes a job in Zanzibar.

But is it worth it???

Meanwhile, I still haven't heard from THREE other schools but I have to inform Georgetown of my intent to matriculate (+$200) by April 20.

Essentially, the fate of the next two years (at very least) of my life lies in the next 2-3 weeks. Every day I check the mail hoping that there will be some sort of answer. I'm not sure what form I'm expecting it to take. Another acceptance or rejection letter (or three). A check for $100K. A letter from someone in college asking me to be the first mate on their yacht.

I'm on the verge of taking up augury, divination, and general superstition in order to find an answer... all of this because I'd rather pay someone to tell me what books to read than go to work everyday. Maybe that in and of itself should be a sign.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Two birds, no stones.

Even though I have a sizable stack of books piling up in my "actually-read" pile, I'm only going to review (if you can call it that) two books on here in this post. The reason for this is that the next batch are all related by a loose theme that these two just really don't fall into at all, but I want to say a word or two about them. You know, so they don't look like misfits or rejects.

The Cider House Rules
by John Irving

Let me start by saying that every time I read a book by John Irving, it totally redeems my world and saves my life. It happened with The World According to Garp (even though I didn't like the book that much), it happened with A Prayer for Owen Meany (Which is in my top-five, all time, favorites), and it happened again with Cider House Rules. I picked this book up because I was really upset by something someone said about abortion. And I couldn't stop thinking about it for days ("thinking" is not even really a good term. "Chewing on" is probably better.) I called Kacie about it. I called Emily about it. I think it seeped into one of my calls with my mom...

Anyway, within five pages, I knew I had the book that would be my warm, cathartic blanket. The book both is and is not about abortion (who wants to read a book that just is about abortion? Hopefully no one.). More than that, it is about orphans and other normal and extraordinary people whose lives are complicated, mysterious, and and often lovely despite the fog. For me, it read like a love letter to the sane.

A word on the differences between movie and book: egads. There is a nebula of difference between the two. And while Tobey Maguire, sadly, plays the part of Homer Wells my head no matter how hard I try to extract him, the book is... well... a book. Also, my used copy of the book had clearly been used to entertain someone's toddler, as the back three pages are filled with what I assume are the artist's rendition of black holes.

I would recommend this book to: My mom, and anyone looking for a good, long, novel. Also anyone who doesn't understand that you can be pro-choice and pro-life at the same time, but I wouldn't only recommend it for that reason.

Breakfast of Champions
By Kurt Vonnegut

Where do I begin? Have you read anything by Vonnegut? If yes, please proceed to paragraph two. If no, please read paragraph one.

Paragraph one: Not to make you feel guilty, but how is that possible? Anyway, now that that's out of the way, don't start with this book because you'll be confused as hell and never read anything by him again (ok, maybe not). Start with Slaughterhouse-Five or maybe Cat's Cradle, but not this. Kurt Vonnegut is very smart, and very funny, but also rather a jerk sometimes when it comes to women which is funny for someone who has so many problems with the way the world is run. That being said, you should try reading something of his at least, just to know what the fuss is about.

Paragraph two: You've read something by Vonnegut and you're probably already expecting some ranting, and maybe inappropriate drawings, or aliens, or Kilgore Trout, even Vonnegut himself showing up to play "creator" and mess with his characters' lives. I picked this one up, I'll admit, because about ten years ago, I saw a preview for the movie version of this book that featured Bruce Willis looking all crazy and low-budget. I love Bruce Willis and somehow this was enough to make me want to read this book, but not enough to make me want to see the movie. Go figure.

It's about a car dealership owner who speed-reads a science fiction novel that says "you are the only being on earth with free will. Everyone else is a robot." But because he's going nuts, he thinks it's true.

If you take out all the parts where someone treats a woman like crap and include more drawings of small animals, my dad could easily have written this book. It's all meta-whatever, there are references to books that don't exist sprinkled in with ones that do, the author shows up and pokes around, and people may or may not get their limbs cut off.

When I got on the metro after buying this, a guy my age said, "That's my favorite book of all time." And I thought, "You've never heard of this book, are you joking?" And after reading it, I think Kurt Vonnegut would have said the same thing.

I would recommend this book to: People who like illustrations and non-sense. My dad, again, maybe, if he thinks he can stand the chauvinist bits.

Friday, March 13, 2009

Donde esta mis zapatos?

Do you know the part in the James Taylor song where he says "Oh, Mexico, It sounds so sweet with the sun sinking low, Moon's so bright like to light up the night... Make everything all right."

And then he admits that he's never really been so he doesn't really know?

Well... I've never been to Mexico either. But I'm ready.

Granted, we "just" got back from New Orleans and I haven't even posted the pictures yet, but it's never to early to buy your next ticket out in my opinion. Especially since at this point, all I'm really doing is waiting to hear from my graduate schools and working everyday.

Tim got the amazing honor of becoming a PMF finalist, which basically fast-tracks him into an amazing government job. The only problem is that it's a two year program which means that our whole "I support you through grad school then you support me" idea is shot, because I will go where I go... alone.

Not to mention that my co-worker Joe has taken to telling me on a daily basis to "Give up [my] hopes and dreams!!" and stay at Clutch because "everyone knows that graduate school in English is the worst financial decision you can make." (He was an English undergrad too.) I keep telling him he sold his soul and look where it got him.

Long and Short: Even without all that pressure, I would be ready to go to Mexico. Kacie and I have been saying we were going to take a trip to Mexico together since within about 4 days of meeting each other. So Kacie's put down the deposit on five days and four nights in the Casa Palmas villa in Playa Del Carmen, Mexico. It's on the Yucatan peninsula, right across from Cozumel. It's a no-boyfriends vacation (not "all girls" because Jared is coming), and there are about 5-6 of us going. Flip flops. Bikinis. Beach. Boat drinks. Lazy. Lazy. Lazy.

James Taylor is speaking my language.