Jiggity Jig

Is it wrong that I want to have lunch at Panera tomorrow for the sole purpose of scoping out my ex boyfriend, and potentially making him very uncomfortable?

Okay, okay, maybe it's not the sole reason... I am rather fond of their bread bowls.

I just got back from the Best Friend's house, where I watched the Sex and the City movie with her and her remarkably acquiescent husband (who had his ACL replaced today and was therefore doped up on percoset). In the course of providing me with all the local gossip, she mentioned that my First Love served her coffee at Panera yesterday, where he is the manager, and skeezily hits on all the teenaged girls who work there.

It seems that my stellar taste in men stretches all the way back to the tender age of 13. Hooray for me!

Doesn't stop me from wanting to go check him out. What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment.

The holiday has been lovely, if a bit of a whirlwind. It seems as if I've spent more time in transit than I have in any one place, and tomorrow evening it's back to the big city to work a double on Wed, and then I'm off again through January 3rd. I'm hoping that on at least one of those days, I get to sleep in.

Two of my four grad school applications have been submitted and my MFA auditions are scheduled. I've finally unearthed my writing sample for the PhD applications, which needs to be re-typed, as well as another contender that needs a little work, but if I have time, I may spruce it up and submit it instead. I'm also waiting on two letters of recommendation, which has me more than a little edgy as the deadlines are fast approaching and I can only send so many reminder emails before my head explodes. Contemplating combing the Baltimore newspapers to see if one of my recommenders has died or is in a coma or something, which are the only reasonable excuses I can think of for agreeing to write a letter back in September, and not yet having done so.

At least I survived the GRE and my scores, it has to be said, are stellar. 740 Verbal, 730 Math, and a 5 in Analytical Writing (which, okay, could have been better, but I'll live), just in case you were wondering...

I've also been cast in a play which will be rehearsing throughout January, in addition to getting ready for my MFA auditions, and figuring out how to rearrange my work schedule around all of the above so that I can still make enough money to pay my rent. I will hopefully be worked into an egg donation cycle early in the month, which will take care of my financial concerns, but seeing as I've been waiting since September, that can hardly be counted on...

In other words, life is about to get intensely crazy... but at least it will be interesting.

Happy Holidays y'all!

Open Letters, Monday Edition

Dear Fashion Victim (Male),

Sagging your jeans looks stupid. Skinny jeans on men are also ill-advised.

But combining the two? Really?? You look like you're trying to wear your kid brother's jeans, to the effect that not only are they too tight, but you can't pull them up all the way.

For the love of god, go find some pants that fit!

Best Wishes,
The Frog Princess


-------------------------

Dear Fashion Victim (Female),

Having nice legs does not make that sweater qualify as a dress. And no, tights are not the same as leggings.

Put on some damned pants.

Cheers,
FP


-------------------------

Dear 6 Train,

Making us wait on the platform for 10 minutes and then running express? That's just mean. Please be more considerate in the future.

-Froggy


-------------------------

Dear Body,

What is up with this whole tired thing you've got going on? Falling asleep at 9:30 last night? Totally unacceptable! Especially considering the ungodly amount of work we have to do this week.

Get it together!

Regards,
F

-------------------------

Dear Brain,

Please start working. SOON. We can't have a repeat of yesterday's unable-to-form-a-coherent-thought ordeal. Boal journal must get written! It's due on Monday! Along with two other papers!!

I promise, come Spring Break I'll give you at least one day to do absolutely no work whatsoever. In the mean time, however, could we step up the productivity just a smidge?

Thanks,
Froggy


-------------------------

Dear Froggy,

Those things sitting on top of your head? They're called "sunglasses." Instead of squinting like an idiot for several blocks, why not try putting them on?

-You-


-------------------------

Dear Pants,

Yes, you are very cute, but must your cuffs flap about in such a way that they ensnare my 4" heels and send me tumbling down the subway steps?

Really, that was un-called-for.

Try to work on it?

Thanks,
Froggy


-------------------------

Dear Subway Railing,

Thank you for being there. Really, I knew I could count on you.

Best,
FP


-------------------------

Dear Guys Standing at Top of Steps,

Thanks for asking if I was okay. Your self-restraint in not laughing at my dumb ass made the incident slightly less embarrassing.

Cheers,
Froggy


-------------------------

Dear Nose,

You can stop running any day now. Really, I won't mind.

-F-


-------------------------

Dear Bloggy Friends,

I am dreadfully behind in my blog reading, and getting worse by the day! However, considering the afore-mentioned ungodly amount of work I need to accomplish, I shall be spending a decent portion of my work days doing school work, as opposed to reading blogs. I promise I'll be back and commenting when the week from hell subsides.

Love ya!
Froggy


-------------------------

Dear Week from Hell,

Are you for real? Seriously? Christ... well do me a favour and go easy on me... 'kay?

Kay.

-The Frog Princess-

Reflection, Obsession, and all that falls between.

Ignorance, indeed, is bliss.

Also I appear to be developing a nasty of habit of beginning my posts with cliches. I will have to work on that.

At any rate, I know I have been fairly MIA since I returned to the country, but the main reason for that is... this semester? Is going to kick my ass. Hard.

Hence the nostalgic thoughts of ignorance... specifically my ignorance at the beginning of last semester when I found myself thinking "you know, Grad School is shaping up to be much less work than I thought it would be... I am totally going to breeze through this semester..." Ha! Little did I know the various and sundry shitstorms waiting for me just around the corner, and thus I entered into this endeavor in a blissful state of ignorance.

This semester, however, I am painfully aware of just how much work I have to do, and how limited the time in which I have to do it. And I am perhaps just a little bit anxious on that count.

First of all, there is the reading. LOTS of reading. Not that this comes as a surprise to anyone else who has trod this path, but this semester's reading load is perhaps triple that of last semester. This, in and of itself, worries me.

In addition to the the reading load, at least one of my classes requires a generous amount of time spent working--in groups!! of 8 people!!! scheduling NIGHTMARE!!!!--outside of class. I am taking yet another weekend-absorbing class leaving me with virtually no free time until the beginning of March. I also am required to see four shows this semester, two each for two different classes, and unless I can find a show that encompasses both physical theatre and queer theatre, I'm not seeing much chance of an overlap.

And finally there is my inability to give up the search for the perfect pair of boots that clearly do not exist. At least, not within my price range.

What's that you say? What does my compulsive need to buy shoes have to do with being screwed by my workload this semseter?

Oh, plenty.

For one, shoe shopping is time-consuming. Particuarly when you feel compelled to set foot in every single Payless shoe store in Manhattan, convinced that one of them has to have the blue suede ankle boots that you foolishly did not buy in Pennsylvania back in December in your size.

Thus were 2 1/2 hours that could have been spent reading "Theatre of the Oppressed," spent on a fruitless search for grey suede ankle boots (and top-fold, spiral-bound, college ruled notebooks... but that's a whole other kettle of fish), not to mention at least another hour online once I returned home.

Clearly, this behavior has got to stop.

Therefore, I feel perfectly justified in purchasing these...



And these...



And, um, okay... these and these



I can only hope that now both my boot and suede fixations have been satiated, and I am able to buckle down and get some work done.

Provided, of course, that everything fits.

Batten down the hatches kiddos, it's gonna be a looooong semester!

*yawn*

Wow, looks like talking about body hair brings folks out of the woodwork--that post garnered the most comments of any post to date!

I'll have to keep that in mind :) (It's all still there, btw).

So anyway, howdy campers. How are all ye fairing on this bright and blustery December day?

Me? I'm freakin' exhausted. I realized around Thursday evening that I had far too much work to do this weekend to cram into two days--especially when there was also a Christmas party to be thrown into the mix. So I called in sick (cough cough) to work on Friday, and after running several dozen errands all over Manhattan, I trudged back to Brooklyn and settled in to some serious mask-and-puppet-making.

Which continued throughout Friday evening, and recommenced about 20 minutes after I woke up on Saturday. Saturday evening was the christmas party, and therefore Sunday morning was a wash as I was suffering from a fairly nasty hangover--the type that masqurades as the flu (fortunately without the digestive side effects) and can only be cured by a diner breakfast followed by a 2 hour nap.

And even after that I was a little shakey.

But the masks and puppet are done and damn! are they awesome!! (if I do say so myself). I am really pleased with myself, and as I head to my final crit after work today, I can only hope that my professor and fellow students are equally impressed with my handywork.

Oh, and the ears came out freakin' awesome! I will try to post a few pics at some juncture.

And really that about sums up my weekend. Work and booze. Oh, and randomly at this party I met a guy who is going to be starting my grad school program next semester! So I got to feel all sage and wise offering advice about courses and professors. Um, yeah, note to New Guy: I really have no idea what the hell I'm talking about--I've only been here a semester!

But when I'm drunk, I'm omnipotent. You know how it goes.

So after this afternoon's crit I. AM. DONE! With the semseter at any rate. Now all of my free time will be devoted to sewing Christmas presents.

Oh, and I think I'm going to get a drink with B tomorrow eve.

Which reminds me... Saturday he called and invited me to go to the movies. With him. And The Girlfriend.

?

God, boys can be so... thick.

After reading about all the awful (or inexplicable) boy behavior that has been afflicting the women of blogland as of late, I have officially dubbed December "Boys Are Dumb, Throw Rocks" Month.

I know the month is almost over, but really, it's been a doozy.

I gotta tell ya, there's nothing quite like a sex dream where you Just. Can't. Get Off. to start the morning off on the wrong foot. I mean, come on! It's bad enough being sexually frustrated in real life... must my subconscious get in on the game as well?

And now here I am, somehow losing 10 minutes in the middle of the morning making me once again late for work (seriously, I haven't stepped out of that elevator on time in well over a month), or getting down a flight and a half of stairs before realizing I left something important in my apartment, and then dancing up and down at the top of the final flight, deciding whether or not it's really important enough to go back upstairs.

Ever try to walk through a subway turnstile without swiping your card?

Yeah, did that too. And stood there, surprised and confused, for several moments after the metal bar smacked me in the pelvis and jarred me back into myself. What was going on? Where was I? Why wasn't the bar turning? Oh, right, the subway isn't free. Dumbass.

I also completely lost track of where I was while on the first leg of my subway journey. Fortunately what felt like several hours was only 2 stops, and I did not end up in Queens.

In light of such an inauspicious start to the day, however, I find myself in a remarkably cheery mood.

First and foremost, as of 4:15 yesterday afternoon, The Research Project From Hell is officially out of my hands and into my professor's! Or, at least, into his mailbox. The only massive project that remains for this semester is all hands-on, artsy craftsy stuff. And while there is quite a good bit of it to do, it never quite feels like work

Also, I stepped out a few minutes ago to drop 300 or so envelopes into local mailboxes and there were flurries! Flurries, people!

I love flurries, because they incite all the giddy, childlike excitement of snow, without turning the sidewalks into a treacherous war zone, or lying in the gutters turning to frosty black slush.

And now, a question (because really, my brain is ALL over the place today): does that KFC commercial with the blonde mom checking off items on a mile long list make anyone else feel incredibly stressed out? Every time I see it my whole body tenses up and I get super-edgy. What's up with that?

Oh, and just for the record: SciFi Channel miniseries "Tin Man"? Oh-so-freaking-awesome. As far as mini-series go anyway. Check it out.

Right, that's it.

Wheee.

You Sexy Thing

Greetings Campers! So before The Research Project From Hell consumes my soul for the remainder of the weekend, I thought I'd delight you all with a little meme, courtesy of Princess Pointful.

(Speaking of TRPFH, there's still time for those five little words. I promise, this is the absolute last time I will bug you about it! Scout's honor!)

And now, in the meme time (oh, I slay me)...

The Rules:

1. Put your iTunes/ music player on Shuffle
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER WHAT
(this is in capital letters, so it is very serious. No hiding your showtunes, folks!)

After you’ve answered all of the questions, tag 5 other people and then let them know they’ve been tagged to do the meme themselves!

(30+ gigs of MP3s on shuffle. This is gonna be interesting...)

IF SOMEONE SAYS “IS THIS OKAY” YOU SAY?
Jammin' -- Bob Marley

WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
The Fruit That Ate Itself -- Modest Mouse
(So basically I'm a train wreck. Thanks Windows Media Player!)

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Ocean -- The Velvet Underground
("madness seeks out a lover" hmmm...)

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
My Own Worst Enemy -- lit
(Okay WMP, now you're just fucking with me)

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE’S PURPOSE?
Precious -- Depeche Mode
(so apparently it's to suffer. fabulous.)

WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Hypnotized -- Bjork & Paul Oakenfold
(I believe in what I see, did the night play tricks on me...)

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Lost in the Supermarket -- The Afghan Whigs
(Guaranteed personality. I can work with that.)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?
Hide Your Love Away -- Oasis
(Hmm... second cover song in a row. And totally off the mark.)

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
51-7 -- Camper van Beethoven

WHAT IS 2+2?
Title & Registration -- Death Cab for Cutie

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Rock N Roll Suicide -- David Bowie
(hmmm... one of them perhaps...)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
13 Questions -- Seatrain
(where on earth did this come from??)

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
You Are My Sunshine -- Hank Williams Sr.
(oh ain't that the fuckin' truth??)

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Big Empty -- Stone Temple Pilots
(Oh man...)

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Berceuse sur le nom de Gabriel Fauré -- Ravel

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Lee -- Tenacious D
(so, I guess that means they like me...)

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
The Word Fuck -- Monty Python
(I'm sorry, I am almost laughing too hard to type... but totally sums up my thoughts on weddings...)

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
The Dark End of the Street -- The Afghan Whigs
(this is... um.... absolutely perfect)

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Polar Opposites -- Modest Mouse
("trying to drink away the part of the day"... teehee)

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
Red Headed Woman -- The Meteors

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
I Don't Want to Get Over You -- Magnetic Fields
(well, if we consider that B is a friend... that could work...)

WHAT SHOULD YOU POST THIS AS?
You Sexy Thing -- Hot Chocolate
(damn right I am!)


And five people to tag (oh lord, who hasn't done this one yet?)

Okay, sorry, I'm copping out on this one. If you haven't done it already, consider yourself tagged!

If you come back and tell me you did it, I will give you a digital cookie. That would be an excellent way to de-lurk, dontcha know ;)

Enjoy!

Homework... for you!

This, my bloggy friends, is a cry for help.

No, not in the Look At Me I'm Drinking Too Much/Doing Drugs/Wasting Away/Making Poor Decisions/Oh My God I'm Such A Disaster sense...

More in the My Reasearch Project Is Kicking My Ass And My Inner Perfectionist Is Screaming That I Need More Information To Do This Properly sense!

So, my dear readers, this is what I ask of you (and any other female you care to forward this post to--yes, sorry boys, for the time being this is women-only).

Choose five words (less if you so desire, but no more than five) that you would use to describe your body.

OR

Choose five (or less) words that you would use to describe your relationship with your body.

(Overacheivers and bored bloggers feel free to do both!)

You can post your response in a comment, or if you prefer to do it privately you can email it to das-frog@optonline.net. Absolutely no real names will be used (for you non-anonymous bloggers out there), but by responding you do give me license to use your words in my project--which involves the writing of a script which may eventually be performed. In front of people. Scary. (For me, not for you).

Don't worry if your choices are the same as or similar to someone else's--there are no points for originality, just honesty.

Note to any and all lurkers out there: Now would be an excellent time to de-lurk! :)

There may be a follow-up assignment a few days down the line for those of you inclined to lengthier descriptions/discussions, but for the time being this little bit of help would be Oh So Very Much Appreciated!

I've got to admit that I feel sort of cheap, whoring my blog for research like this. Which is why I'm not going to pester you to link to this post in your own blogs. I'm not that tawdry. (See what I did there? See that? Damn, my ex-roommate is right, I am Passive Aggressive...)

I hope this doesn't change your opinion of me dear friends. I promise the blog will be back to business as usual just as soon as The Project From Hell releases its death grip on my soul.

And at Princess of the Universe's request, yes, I will be happy to share the fruits of my labor with you all when I have finished. I'll spare you the boring bits (bids for future research, etc.), but will be happy to share what portions of the script I manage to complete! And my reading list, which is actually pretty kick-ass.

A Big Bloggy THANK YOU in advance for, well, saving my butt. :)

Vacation? Well, that's debatable...

Just a quick-ish one today to let you all know that, no, I have not been in a Turkey Coma for the past 4 days. But my life? SO not my own right now. So here's the holiday recap:

The Friday after Turkey Day was lovely. I had breakfast with my Girls, where there was much exchanging of gossip and exclaiming over babies and toddlers and bellies. The BFF is ready to pop with baby #2 any day now, and her daughter is getting SOOOO big. And feisty! I really wish I could see them more than a few times a year. However, when I'm back for Christmas the new baby should be here (and his name? perfect!), so I'll get to see him while he's still itty-bitty.

Also on Friday was the much-anticipated visit to the llama farm! Now, I know that most of you here in blogland squee over friends and engagements and cute little babies, but me? I squee over llamas. It's a little weird, yes, but photos of our wooly friends are forthcoming. And I got an eskimo kiss from a llama! That really may have been the single cutest experience of my life. I also got some handspun yarn, so I can knit myself a llama scarf.

Saturday we drove up to Bumblefuck for my cousin's wedding. I worked on school work the whole way there and back, and still wasn't finished with my stupid journal! However the wedding was nice, the bride is adorable, and there was plenty of food and booze at the reception. It was good to finally see that side of the family again, even if everyone was flustered with wedding business. One of my cousins now has five children. FIVE! They are all adorable though, and the newest--a four month old boy--is beyond all doubt the cutest baby I have ever seen, bar none! (Just don't tell any of the Girls that I said so!).

Sunday we drove back to the parents' house, and shortly thereafter it was time to take me to the train station--replete with an extra heavy suitcase full of stuff I was lugging back to NYC. Ran into an old friend from high school (who also lives in Brooklyn these days) while waiting for the train, so he and I ended up sitting together and catching up on the way back to the city--which totally foiled my plans to get work done on the way, but I think my brain needed a break anyway.

I got back to my apartment a little after 9:30 and much to my amazement my cat did not seem at all upset with me for leaving her for 4 days, nor had she expressed any liquid displeasure on any of the furniture! It's a miracle! And so I unpacked and immediately sat down to do more work, and finally finished my journal around midnight and went to bed.

And got up this morning and came to work.

I think I need a vacation from my vacation.

Or just my life.

Journal #1 is done, but I still have an obscene amount of work to accomplish in the next 2 weeks, hence the whole my-life-is-not-my-own syndrome in which I am currently ensconced. The GINORMOUS research project is due one week from today, and have I conducted a single interview? Oh, that would be... umm... NO. However I do have my first one scheduled for tonight.

My project is on women and body image (and idea that actually stemmed from this post and all of the positive responses it garnered--thanks guys!), and so A has agreed to be my guinea pig, er, first interview subject. While I'm glad that my first interview will be with someone with whom I am totally comfortable (and who can tell me if my questions suck), it also means that I will get NO work done once the interview is over, as I'm sure we'll end up chatting away for the remainder of the evening.

Good for my sanity, bad for my workload.

I need a cookie.

Ack!

Last night as I sat in Most Hated Class half-listening to the inane questions coming from my fellow students regarding our culminating research project ("Are our interview transcripts included in the page-limit?" ...are you shitting me?!), I began idly flipping through the syllabus.

Awesome! Only 2 more classes left! That was certainly something to celebrate.

Then my eyes strayed over to the requirements for the research project... and there it was:

Due Date: 12/03/07

Holy Shit.

That is only... (flips over to Outlook calendar and counts...) a little over 2 weeks away! One week of which is consumed by Thanksgiving and Cousin's Wedding.

Oh... FUCK.

I really thought this project was due during Finals week... NOT the last week of class!

And suddenly I realize that in the next 2 1/2 weeks I need to:

1. Finish (okay, okay, START and Finish) Research Project, including but not limited to: Refine my research question, which is currently very vague; Conduct and transcribe 3 half-hour interviews; Analyze data from said interviews through an ethnographic lens; Generate a reading list; Write the beginning of an ethnodrama based on information gathered; Determine what is still missing (which will be quite a lot); and Write up a plan of how I plan to continue this research in the future.

Phew! Oh, but we're not done yet. There's also...

2. Complete journal for Weekend Class (due Monday after Thanksgiving)

3. Shit, before I can do that I need to re-read the book for Weekend class.

4. Catch-up on and finish journal for another class, for which I have not journaled in, oh, about 5 weeks. At least I've been writing down the prompts.

5. Papier-mache giant head and half-mask for masks class.

6. Paint all masks made to date.

7. Start and Complete final project for Masks class--which will include 2 masks and a small puppet, even though we haven't actually been shown how to make a puppet yet.

8. Hmmm, right. Go to the library and actually check out some of the recommended books on puppet making.

9. Get travel vaccinations for Uganda (happening tomorrow).

10. Go to Ugandan consulate and get travel visa.

11. Get haircut so I don't look like Cousin It at Cousin's Wedding.

12. Find pet-sitter for Thanksgiving Holiday.

13. Travel to PA, attempt to work on psychotically crowded holiday train if I am lucky enough to actually be sitting down, eat turkey, see family, have breakfast with The Girls, go to llama farm with parents, travel to Nowhere PA for Cousin's Wedding (do school work in car), attend wedding, get drunk, go back to motel and attempt to work on WC journal while intoxicated, travel back to parents' house (try to type in car while hungover), get on train, do school work (if I'm still awake), Return to NYC, get back to apartment around 10pm, sniff around the house to see if the cat's peed on anything (oh, damnit... 13a. find a way to piddle-proof the couch cushions), reassure the feline that I still love her before passing out from the sheer exhaustion of my "vacation," get up early the next morning and back to business as usual...

...all while working 30 hours a week, attending classes, and rehearsing for Outreach project, for which we have our first performance 1 week after we return from Thanksgiving Break!

*Thump*

Huh, what? Sorry, I think I blanked out for a minute there...

I am flashing back to a conversation I had a few months ago with another girl in my program, both of us saying "It's really weird, I thought Grad School would be harder... like, I thought I'd have more work to do, and really I don't..."

Do me a favour. If you happen to run into the Me of Two Months Ago, give her a swift kick in the ass.

And tell her to get started on that damned journal.

Pavlovian Response

I made an interesting discovery in my least-favourite class this evening.

We were actually having a really great session. There was a panel of people involved in various aspects of prison arts/drama programs for rehabilitation. It was fascinating to listen to people speak passionately on such an interesting subject, and one of the panelists was a former inmate who had spent 25 years (half his life!) in a maximum security facility and had participated in the program as part of his rehabilitation--his "change" as he called it. He was a captivating speaker and what he said was incredibly moving...

The interesting revelation, however, was in regards to my professor. Once the panel was opened up to questions, one question was directed towards him (as he is also actively involved in the program). I heard about 2 sentences of what he said and then my eyes glazed over and I drifted off into a fairly involved fantasy about Maybe Crush (who happened to be sitting right next to me at the time). When he had finished speaking, it took several minutes for me to snap back into reality and re-engage with what the other panelists were saying.

And there you have it. The man is brilliant and has done wonderful things--but his voice puts me to sleep.

Perhaps it would be wise to keep him off my schedule next semester.

Weekend? What Weekend?

So the answer to Friday's "I wonder what time I will start writing my paper" turned out to be....

5pm on Saturday.

I know. I know.

Friday night I settled in to get to work... and proceeded to stare blankly at the computer screen for the next two hours. Half-formed ideas would flit into my head, yet each time I attempted to synthesize them into coherent sentences they would flit right back out again. After 2 hours of sporadic, frustrated typing I was left with two paragraphs of complete garbage, including the sentence: "Critical theory is fucking complex." Right. So I decided to pack it in and try for an early start on Saturday.

Saturday I awoke at a reasonable hour and while drinking my coffee it occurred to me that I would not have another free weekend day until the second weekend in November (if I'm lucky), and as such it would probably behoove me to do laundry while I had the chance.

Note: Laundromat is empty at 11:30am on a Saturday. Excellent time to do laundry.

Once laundry was done I once again sat in front of my computer and while the ideas in my head were somewhat more well-formed than those of the previous evening, I was still producing absolute drivel. Rather than beat my head against the keyboard in frustration (though the prospect was awfully tempting), I opted to call my parents for a pep talk.

They performed their given task marvelously, as well as providing a welcome distraction and a sounding board for my bitching about the fact that our topic was so ridiculously broad one could write a dissertation on it, yet we were confined to 7 measly pages--and, as good parents will do, around 4:30 they told me to stop screwing around and go write the damned paper already.

So I did. As predicted, once I actually managed to start writing, it took just under 3 hours. Cake really. Don't get me wrong, it still needs a bit of editing, but the bulk of the work is done. Hooray!

Today was another installment of my 8 hour class--and another 8 hours in the same room with Maybe Crush (who, incidentally, also stared blankly at his computer screen for hours while attempting to write the same paper), which proved to be every bit as distracting as the last 8 hours. Some day soon I am going to totally lose control and just pounce on the boy, I swear.

However progress is slowly being made. Today there was conversation! Both in a group and between the two of us. And he offered to loan me a DVD. Now the question is: will he remember said offer and bring it to class tomorrow? (Damn I have a lot of classes with this boy!) And if he remembers, is it because he was thinking about me, or just because he has a good memory?

Damn, sometimes being a girl is annoying.

I occasionally wonder what would happen if he somehow managed to stumble across this blog. While I've kept identifying info to a minimum, he'd probably look at some of this and think "hmmm... this sounds awfully familiar..." Gad, how embarrassing would that be?? And did I just say "gad"? Yikes...

I am doing my best to enjoy the tortuously slow progress of my infatuation, for as my friend B would say: I am in deep smit. Yet the questions remains, which of the three potential outcomes seems most likely?

a. I will eventually lose interest;
b. I will eventually express my interest and be awkwardly rejected; or
c. I will eventually express my interest and learn (much to my surprise) that it is reciprocated.

Considering my personal history, I think either a or b is more likely to occur; but I'm holding out hope for c. Really, who says you can't be a cynic and a romantic at the same time?

Remember the bit about getting my shit together?

Well clearly yesterday was not the day.

I slept late and awoke to a text message from M--a notoriously flaky friend from back home. He's recently taken on a job as a courier and was going to be driving into Manhattan. I haven't seen him in well over a year, so I texted back that I had a lot of school work to do, but if he wanted to swing by I could give him an hour or so and we could sit on the stoop and have coffee or whatnot.

In the interim between this agreement and his arrival, I did my yoga DVD for the first time in ages (ouch! I used to think this thing was easy!), took a shower, and got started on the mass of reading I needed to do.

Thanks to the glories of GPS, M made it here all by himself without need for directions from me. A good thing for all involved, as the only time I've taken a car from Manhattan to my current apartment it's been a taxi and I've been drunk (and, frankly, quite amazed to find myself at home the following morning), so my directions would have been vague at best.

The coffee shop was closed so we offered our custom to Dunkin' Donuts instead and wandered back to my stoop, where the promised 1 hour turned into something more like 4, until we were inside again and I looked at the clock and said "Shit! I've got to kick you out of here!" It was 5:30 and I had read all of about 7 pages. Yikes.

So did I buckle down to the school work as soon as he left? Of course not! I went to the grocery store, baked cookies (Snickerdoodles, yum!), and got dinner in the oven. Then I began reading.

I really need to rethink my game plan on this one.

I read until 10pm, and I have at least determined the topic for the paper due a week from today, but I had really hoped to have a draft written by the end of yesterday. Clearly, that did not happen. Granted, it's only a 7 pager, which I can easily bang out in a few hours, but still. I was trying to be responsible and NOT do everything at the last minute.

Also I have about 50 pages of reading to complete for tonight's class, which I will be doing in the 2 1/2 hours between work ending and class beginning. Fun!

I'm just angry at myself for blowing off my priorities. True, it was to see a friend that I haven't seen in ages, but then again, shouldn't some things be sacrificed in the name of my incredibly expensive education?

I'm just worried that I'm going to fuck all this up. It's something I've got a tendency to do.

Sunday Sunday Sunday...

It helps if you can imagine that title in a booming masculine voice with lots of reverb. Anyone who's ever lived in the sticks will get the reference to radio promos, usually involving monster trucks.

Anyhoo, had my first all-day weekend class today, and while getting up at 7:30am on a weekend isn't exactly my cup of tea, I've got a good feeling about this course. The professor is, as promised, thoroughly awesome, and the class seems like a good group of students. We delved into some interesting ideas about education today--the current state of affairs and the changes we'd like to see brought about--and there was definitely lots of interesting, well thought out commentary. Not a lot of people talking just to hear themselves speak. So I'll just have to deal with the early wake up call. Eh, it's only 5 weeks.

Oh, and did I mention that Maybe Crush is also in this class? Oh yes. I'm telling ya, I've got to either step up the game or get over it right quick, as 8 hours in a room with your crush is oh-so-very distracting! I swear, that boy is too damned adorable for his own good. Or mine.

Really though, I'm not sure what more a gal can do! Other than going out of my way to interact with him (often enough to signal interest, yet not so often as to appear creepy) and smiling pointedly whenever I catch his eye, today I picked a piece of fluff out of his hair, and later told him that clearly I was stalking him because we have so many classes together. He didn't appear to object to either. Agh! I so wanted to just leap across the table and make out with him, but somehow I think the other students might have objected. Damn.

So that about sums it up for me today. I need to sit down and process today's class for my journal (which is a decent chunk of our grade), but I am totally distracted. I was hoping that blogging would help, but that doesn't seem to be the case. I also have a million other school-related things that I need to accomplish within the span of this evening and tomorrow's blessed day off. I realized about half an hour ago that I haven't even made a dent in the reading due for Tuesday's class, and I also have to get started on a paper for the same.

I'm thinking that if the weather is nice tomorrow I'll head down to Prospect Park (or, barring that, the small park near my apartment) and try to get some work done. Being out of my house is clutch, as then I can't be distracted by things like cleaning. It is SO easy to justify not doing schoolwork when I'm doing something else that could be deemed productive (AER I know you hear me on this!). And the coffee shop, while convenient and cozy, has the temptation of wi-fi to drive me to distraction.

This current state of indisposition has me worried. In the past when I've fallen into this sort of rut of non-productivity, it has generally taken a rather large kick in the ass (usually in the form of a poor grade or strong reprimand) to serve as the necessary wake-up call and snap me out of it. However, at $1100+ per credit, I really can't afford even a minor catastrophe.

I'm not settling for less than a 4.0 in this program. I just need to find a way to make my drive match my ambitions.

Really, I'm only mildly panicked.

(So much so that I just published this post without actually typing anything in the body. Clearly, I'm on my A game today.)

Today would normally be a relaxing day here in the office. For starters, it is the first day of my school-term hours, 10am-4pm, which I can already tell I'm gonna love. Second, nobody else in the executive corner of the office is in today. There are: 2 vacations, 1 business trip, and 1 personal day, leaving Froggy here all by her lonesome, and finished with the one menial and laborious task she had to complete. Ahhhh, nothing to do but surf the internet and watch the last 25 minutes of the day tick quietly by.

So what, you may ask, is the problem?

The problem is that tonight is my first class as a grad student and I am bugging the hell out.

I shouldn't be, I know this. I'm a good student. Always have been. Hell, I only applied to ONE graduate school--one of 2 in the country that offer my specific program--and I got in! That has to count for something, right?

But that doesn't stop the nagging little voice at the back of my head that looks at my 18 page syllabus and wonders "oh dear lord, what the hell have I gotten myself into?!??"

Also there is the fact that, when it comes to certain things--like my education--I can be a bit, oh, let's say anal. At the beginning of my undergrad I sat down with the coursebook and more or less plotted out the next 4 years of my academic life. Not down to the minute or anything, but I knew which classes I was going to take in what year, and how hard I'd have to work to make up for the smaller number of credits I'd earn on my year abroad. I walked into my first advising appointment with everything figured out, much to the surprise--and apparent relief--of my advisor, who had clearly been dealing with panicked freshman all day.

And that felt good.

Now here I am at a large university--instead of the cozy, tiny-liberal-arts-school atmosphere I know and love--and they don't tell us ANYTHING. I feel like that panicked freshman who doesn't know what to do, because the answers aren't even out there for me to find on my own! There aren't even course descriptions in my department! My classes were chosen based on the title and comments like "oh yeah, that's a good class" from my advisor. I asked about the requirements for my degree (ie- what classes do I need to take?) and her response was "oh don't worry, you're with me, it'll all work out."

While the above might be my philosophy to life in general, it most certainly is NOT my philosophy in terms of the $35k in student loans that I took out to finance this particular year of my life. I want ANSWERS people! I want definites!

I want to go home and take a nap.

Oh, but did I mention that my landlady called at approximately 8:30 this morning to let me know that the plumber was coming today to tear up the floors in my bathroom and get started on the 2-day ordeal that is fixing my crummy drain?

I just hope he remembers his promise to reconnect the toilet so that I don't come home from my first night of class to discover that I must pee in a jar.