might and yes

I want to go to Ann Arbor to see Julie, and Scott, and The Darjeeling Limited. And I want to visit Emily and Aaron in the Cracker Barrel, and I want to do lots of other things. I like my job and my grad class, but when I have to grade a mountain of papers and read a pile of novel and write some things, and it's conferences week so between that and class there was (almost) literally no free time this week, I start feeling a little suffocated and consequently whiny. School all day and grading and planning all night and weekend aren't a good way to spend the next twenty-five years. I will (brace yourself for a trite cliche) wake up one day and be old and tired and empty. Then again, this is only one week. Maybe I should just get over it already. Anyway, if I grade papers and read my novel alternating every hour until 11 tonight, then get up in the morning and wash, rinse, repeat, I might be done by tomorrow evening (might). And then the 'weekend' can begin and things will be okay. Yes.

I just woke up from a terrible dream where I was trying to play Scrabble but I couldn't. I kept forgetting how to spell words, and taking too many tiles, and soon there were six J's in play, and I had 45 letters piled up on my tray (all of which were metallic and black, so apparently my subconscious is harboring some kind of anxiety toward industrialism?). I think my dream (I just deleted 'nightmare' because I didn't want to sound so dramatic) was born out of the empanadas, sangria, and chocolate truffle cake we had a San Chez last night, so maybe it was worth it. Also, I'll bet this is my brain telling me it's been too long since I've played Scarbble, and now it's reverting to the only me-time it has to revisit fond memories. Because other than when I'm sleeping, my brain has pretty much been occupied with school and grad class - but mostly school - for the past two months.

Except, of course, for Chicago last weekend which had many highlights, one of which involves my nose ring falling out without my noticing, forcing me to scour (metaphorically) the floor of our hotel bathroom at five in the morning, retrieve it, and jam it back into my face. I've never taken it out before, so, had I been less sleepy (and maybe a little less inebriated), it probably would have been a bigger, scarier deal than it was. Besides for things like that though, Grand Rapids is pretty quiet until one of your comes to visit.

I do have one important and good piece of news: you can stop signing in before coming to see me. I think I'm safe again.

This week in class the kids podcast and really liked it. I almost had a heart attack dealing with all of the technical troubleshooting that I'm pretty ill-equipped to cope with, but next time I'll be much more on top of things. I finally met success on my quest to find bronze (colored, not made of) shoes for Emily's wedding, and my grad class is reading Last of the Mohicans which I'm preparing to force myself to finish this afternoon (as the real function of the blog as a procrastinatory tool finally emerges). This is why I don't update as much, I suppose; everything feels mundane yet urgent and hectic, which are perfect conditions to convince a blogger that she has nothing to write about. Anyway, if my nose ring falls out again, I'll be sure to check in with an update.

Lastly, is anyone else counting down to the end of Daylight Savings Time? I'm totally jonesing for a fall-back. In fact, I might just add two hours back in to my life instead of one. For some reason, this fall I'm feeling particularly entitled to gratis free time.

Go get a grapefruit.
Peel it.
Section it.
Freeze it.
Eat it.

Thank me later.

checking in

wow, where did that month go? that's ok, i never really liked september anyway. october is where it's at. i'm just popping in for a minute to report that i finally figured out who my english professor reminds me of. every tuesday night, i sit in class for three hours learning from the doppelganger of sue johanson of the canadian phone-in smash hit 'talk sex with sue johanson.' and it's awesome.


(miscellanea: meredith is coming home this weekend for the heritage hill tour, rockford boutiques, indian food, and general jolliness; we are podcasting next week in english 11 - the web may or may not be ready for this jelly; next weekEND is emily's chicago bachelorette weekend extravaganza; ormond is kind of awful)

and this...

It is with strange malice
That I distort the world.

Ah! that ill humors
Should mask as white girls.
And ah! that Scaramouche
Should have a black barouche.

The sorry verities!
Yet in excess, continual,
There is cure of sorrow.

Permit that if as ghost I come
Among the people burning in me still,
I come as belle design
Of foppish line.

And I, then, toutured for old speech,
A white of wildly woven rings;
I, weeping in a calined heart,
My hands such sharp, imagined things.

-The Weeping Burgher,
WS