The little duck

After a decent amount of rain over the last 2 weeks, there has been a mini pond in a yard that is at an intersection on my way to (and from) school. There's a little duck who's been hanging out, swimming around, dipping for worms, and generally having good ducky fun. But he left the temporary watering hole. I find myself looking for him every morning still. He was cute. Alas, poor Yorick, I knew thee well... (again, I dare you to name that reference; yes this one is super easy)

Things Fall Apart

Chinua Achebe, I am not (thankfully so...I'm not sure how well I'd fare as an African man), but things do still fall apart in Kokomo, especially if you live at my house and happen to be me.

Problem #1: Ben is stupendously, frustratingly busy right now. We're in the middle of the track season, which means about 6-8 weeks of pure insanity at the worst times and semi-pure rushing at all times. It also means that the dishes haven't been washed for 3 days, that the yard has not been mowed yet (I'm sure that all of the neighbors who shell out the clams for their nifty yard service to come and take the dandelions out of their yard and silently cursing us; we are the reason on this street, really the only reaon [are we truly the only ones on the court who do not use a lawn service?!?], why dandelions keep popping up in their yards since we have such a deliciously yellow crop of them!), and there is still half of a cradle and box of toys in the new family car. Chemicals have not been spread where they should be spread in the yard & accompanying area. Clothes remain piled on the floor in the living room (drat...1/2 of those are mine). And, paperwork is definitely piling up on the desk. I totally support Ben coaching track and love that he's all happy by it...but I really kinda hate it. Oh, I kinda hate cross country, too. Not only does it permeate my daily order (yeah, I know...I can totally do some of this stuff that I'm kinda complaining about), but it's always permeating my daily conversations now, too. It's not that interesting for those of us who think that it's not that exciting. But I think I listen okay? I hope I do. I try. I fail.

To be kinda fair, it's not exactly all brownies and cushions for me right now either. Which is really where this post came from. It's now the last 2 weeks of the semester (@ BSU), and that means that I've been fairly innundated, rushed, crying, and gnashing my teeth (it may get to the point where rending of clothing starts today) for the past couple of weeks. It doesn't help that weekends in April/May always seem to be slammed with things to do and reasons why we're not home. It also also doesn't help that I'm now losing, more or less, one night a week with baby classes. That one wasn't my choice, but ah well. It also also also doesn't help that I'm at the doctor alllll of the time now; we're just at the point in about 3 things that are all happening concurrently. Seriously, once June hits, life will seem like cake. Nothing to do except take care of little bean, and there's a husband with no responsibilities who will also be around and excited to help. Cake!!

So my car still hasn't been touched for almost a week now since the last time I tried to start it when I found out that it was being grumpy. We've had a tax refund check sitting on our table for at least a month now. We owe insurance information to our financial rep for about 3 weeks now also. But...our bills are still being paid (thanks to my affinity or writing checks). No foreclosure or loss of electricity. We may be busy, but there will be light to be busy by.

AND, my laptop punked out last night. I'm fairly frustratedly pseudo-furiously frankly feeling frumpy about that issue. It's the last 2 weeks of the semester for pity's sake!! The car thing was kind of ironically funny with the timing. The laptop thing, not at all. Thankfully, Ben still has his PC. It's okay, but I'm totally a laptop person now, and I also just revel in the luxury of not having to share something like this, especially when I need it for hours at a time right now and Ben still needs it too. One kid may be all cause it means less sharing for me. I'm not a sharer. The luxury of each having his/her own is the biggest pleasure that I derive from my daily life. It's also why our next house will have TWO sinks in my bathroom. This is a deal breaker for whoever we buy the next house from--only one sink, no deal.

I take that a smidge back...I'm all about the sharing of money. I'm not completely sure I get why married couples would each keep their own financial accounts and share costs. Maybe if one or the other had serious financial issues and the other didn't want to jeapordize their good credit? I don't know. Another teacher theorizes that females are the money keepers in married relationships. I just like writing checks, so I generally don't mind paying bills (except for the whole money flying out faster than it sometimes comes in, thing...). But we definitely keep the checkbook accessible to both persons. I find it most humorous that he has to ask his super sweet wife for a check whenever he needs one even though he's on the account, too. Giggle.

I digress. But I'm still steamed like broccoli but not yet fork tender about what I just plunked down to fix my laptop woes. It's going to be cheaper to just replace the thing next time instead of buying new adaptors and batteries every few months!! Do MACs last longer than Dells?? I'm starting to ponder switching...which is basically blasphemy in this family.

No quote today; my credit card ego is bruised and I'm not feeling it.

a week later...another negative Nelly rant

Okay, so there have been 2 labor classes now. I'm sure that every class has it's own personality, not unlike every one of my classes, but unfortunately, ours seems to be an obnoxious personality. Thanks boy A and boy B (who don't even deserve to be recognized via naming privileges) and the other handful of amazingly immature guys who want to make a joke out of everything, and frankly, often offensive jokes! The instructor could give them a withering look rather than egg them on. Their partners could hit them in the ribs instead of laughing the loudest. These two little 20-something BOYS couldn't scream stereotypes more than if they came right out and admitted their childishness and immaturity. Boy A is compensating clearly--short, stocky guy with grotesque forearm tattooes. It takes effort to slouch with such obvious insolence at birthing class! Boy B is no different from some of my freshmen boys other than he's heavier and taller than most 15-year olds. Seriously, must we play the "It wasn't me!!" game after every offensive comment was made? Seriously. Not that this class is loaded with normal people...of which, of course, I am one...but this clientele also makes me feel even more negative about public schools. I've never been a believer that everyone needs to go to college or whatever, but there is also a reason why stereotypes are so truthful. I don't want to teach the children who are being born to the parents in this class. If you can't even be serious about your own unborn child, how screwed up are they going to be when they reach high school? More importantly, I don't want my child to be around these children in school.

I'd be surprised if 1/3 of the couples in the class are married (15 couples). I'd be surprised if 1/3 of the couples are over the age of 21. It's seriously depressing to me to see so many couples but mostly women who are going to be in charge of brand new children. Not that Ben and I are ever saying that we're going to blow them out of the water, but they just seem so .... scarily unrealistic. Here's hoping that the actual emotional moment of birth becomes an epiphany of maturity, too.

There's at least a couple of teenager couples. At least the males are coming with their girlfriends. At least the girls are coming to learn what they need to know. Oh, lest I forget, a girl who I had in class a couple of years ago is in this class, too. That's understandably uncomfortable! I can't remember much about her at all, and no one can remember if she graduated. Here's hoping that she did!

Lest you were wondering...yes, I should be working on a paper. Yes, a draft is due tomorrow. No, I will not be able to work on it tomorrow, hence I must finish it tonight. You'd be dissapointed if I wasn't procrastinating.

Baseball rant...c'mon Braves! We started out 5-1 and now we lost 5 games in a row?!? What'swiththat???

Sidenote--we have graduated to a family car. No minivan for those of you who were secretly hoping that you could laugh at me about that. Never EVER. I drove one before and never more quote the Amy raven. Funny thing about that, we brought it home this weekend (so that we currently have 3 vehicles), and then my car wouldn't start yesterday morning. God has a humorous side, I'm convinced. And, it came with a crib and boxes of baby stuff already in it. That's a bargain!

"We are born charming, fresh and spontaneous and must be civilized before we are fit to participate in society." Judith Martin (Miss Manners) Apparantly Boy A and Boy B haven't yet figured this out.

This is why I don't charge for haircuts

Author's note before I begin: this really corresponds with my grumpy musing from the last post. I have a biggish presentation tomorrow that I have yet to begin working on; sounds like a good time to write a new post!

Someone whom we all know and love refuses to have anyone cut his hair but me, not because I'm exceptional (or even good for that matter), but because I'm free. Therefore, if something untoward happens oh every once in a while, then can this lovely person really get mad at me? I'm cheap! And, said person has always gotten along well with my dad, who at times epitomizes the miser mentality.

When handsome lad who is receiving the haircut is always the one who puts the correct attachments on the clippers, is it any wonder that the ravishing lass who cuts the hair doesn't pay attention to them a whole lot before she begins? Not at all! It really isn't the lass's problem to worry about, methinks. Why was this time any different, especially when this particular miscue has already happened once before, to a lesser degree of severity, for roughly the same reason!?! So young lad and lass were laughing about something when lass starts the fateful haircut. Young lad jerks away; young lass gasps. Oh this is a problem--a three inch stripe of completely shaven head in the middle of lush, brown hair. Young lass wants to laugh amidst her shock. Young lad was not so pleased. Young lass exclaims that she still has to be associated with young lad, so obviously she didn't do it on purpose! Young 8th grade track runner asks Coach the next day, "Okay, just tell us what happened to your head" at the beginning of practice. This picture doesn't exactly display the horror, the horror (I've probably done this before...but name that Modernist reference), but young lad's hairline is up around the top of his ears. It usually resides much much lower.

It's definitely still noticable, but not nearly as bad as it was. I still giggle when I see it. Since young lad generally doesn't read this, I feel as if I can fairly secretively make such a confession.

Returning to that which I've gotten away from lately, a quote:

"Humor is also a way of saying something serious." T. S. Eliot

As I really do have other, more important things to do, my post on baby classes will come later. Maybe tonight if all goes well!

Grad school...I guess

I told someone that I was going to write about grad school next, but I can't much remember what I was going to ramble about. I don't think that I've written about grad school much? So here are some random thoughts; we'll see if this goes anywhere.

***I just don't really dig poetry. I appreciate what it is and can see why some people get into it, but not me I guess. I'm taking a class on the British Romantics right now, which I was, honestly, pretty excited about getting into it since I previously didn't have a great understanding about it. A bit, but not enough. Alas, boring class. All poetry all the time and the professor who likes to hold us over every time (argh...it's after 9 and I still have to drive an hour home and then get up at 5:30 to actually work tomorrow!!).

***Never ending presentations. These are seriously boring to sit through. Hence, boring class. Too much time is spent listening to classmates rather than the person who actually has the doctorate. And seriously, we're in grad school. We don't need to do worksheets or watch "movies" of classmates reading Coleridge and Wordsworth. What am I learning by this presentation?

***The 10-12 page paper that has *almost* been the hardest paper ever. It seems easy compared to the 80 or so pages I had last semester, but arrrrrrrr-gh. No motivation. Why? Why why why? I have things to do! I have to get this done sooner rather than later! I have plans to make! I'm frustrated at me and my procrastination habit. It goes something like this every time. Get the assignment. Don't think about it for about 2 months. Get reminded about paper by professor. Feel severe guilt for having done nothing for this paper. Procrastinate like crazy about going to the library, though this is only a five-minute walk but means that I have to get to campus earlier and have less chill time before class starts. Get grumpy when I can't find the books I want. Procrastinate some more until I have to go to IUK's library with the lousy parking. Check out a goober amount of books that I have to remember when the due date is. Get books and spend about 3-4 Saturdays/Sundays doubly-whammy combos of hours upon hours of reading reading reading highlighting crying and feeling sorry for myself and my "miserable" life reading reading highlighting. Grumpy Amy. Feel guilty for stopping working at 6 or so on a Saturday night. Feel guilty for doing homework instead of working on paper. Feel guilty for doing anything but homework or paper. Arrrrr-gh. Wonder why I am doing this. Find earphones, take advantage of Ben being gone on a random Saturday and type type type type, kick Toby off of my lap again, type type, throw the mouse for the 934th time to get Toby to leave me alone, type type type...revise revise revise revise revise (do laundry) revise revise revise revise. Print. Smile. :-)

***I'm the only masters student in the class that I'm currently taking. It's really kind of wierd to be surrounded just by doctoral students. Does the professor take this into consideration? Does it matter at all?

***How do people do this for 7-8 years after undergrad? Is it worth it not to work and give up all of the financial security that comes with a full-time job in lieu of a couple of years of school?

***Smile cause I know that I'm doing pretty okay overall. NO one in my classes work like I do, not to say that they're not all crazy busy taking 3-4 classes and assistantships.

***We'll see what happens next semester when I'm not working full-time, exactly. Can I juggle baby and American Naturalism and Realism?

***People who survive grad school are a)really crazy addicted to their subject and b)entitled to jobs just because of what they go through. I'm serious about A but recognize my wishful thinking with B.

Speaking of...

Just returned from another 2-week check-up. It's so much better when Ben goes with me so that I have someone to talk with during the wait as the Dr. is fixing up an emergency elsewhere. In fact, we had a good financial chat. Speaking of finances...

...they've been on our minds a lot lately. We approached our financial advisor (F.A.) about how much to save for college, how to, what to use, and so on. Theoretically, if we save $400/month, we'll have around $90,000 guaranteed in 18 years. Theoretically, we won't have to contribute after 16 years. Theoretically, this is our best option since it's guaranteed and we'll have some life insurance in the process. Theoretically, we were looking for an option that didn't require forgoing saving anything for the next 16 years. Granted, eventually we'll get paid more and this will be an easier contribution a month, and on and on and on. But right now, realistically, this is a lot of money, especially when I'm not going to be paid for a few months coming up pretty soon. So if anyone knows of an easy, legal way to procure vast sums of money in the next 18 years that doesn't require me driving the same car for the next 18 years and giving up all hopes of any vacation in that same amount of time, let me know, eh? Speaking of cars...

...we're now going to be the proud owners of three cars. No car loans, thankfully. However, each vehicle will be at least 8 years old, but no more than 11. Which is a bit old. And there's quite a bit of milage in that mix, also. But when trying to save for college while also faced with the possibility of replacing an old fridge, some concessions must be made. Speaking of fridges...

...I'm worried that our fridge is on it's last legs, which it's been dancing on for a few months now. Either the fridge is too cold and things are freezing or the freezer is too warm and water collects in the fridge. This isn't a good situation for my ice cream. Speaking of ice cream...

...I was given 4 coupons for free ice cream at Culvers (mmm) today. I was willing to pay for them in a "silent" auction, but got outbid at the last moment for a special ed aide who has given ice cream up for Lent (so he says). I'm not sure why he outbid me. I guess he just wanted to be nice and make a contribution to the cause since I still got the ice cream. But in the next 2 weeks, the days I want to go are days that we'll be out of town. Ironic. I'm going to have to wait on that one. Not that my ever-increasing girth wouldn't mind if I stopped chugging down the dark chocolate and sugar so readily. Speaking of my girth...

...at my last appointment 2 weeks ago, my doctor said that I was measuring just fine regardless of how huge my school secretary keeps telling me that I am. Today, however, she says, oh, you're actually measuring about 3 weeks farther along than you should be. The signs of a big one? I was a large baby; who knows about Ben since his mom doesn't remember. I'm just sighing and mentally preparing for some good amount of agony as my body tries to disgorge a veritable bowling ball that has many nooks and crannies. If everyone just keeps looking at my ponderous girth, then maybe they won't be noticing other things. Speaking of other things...

...why are nearly all maternity shirts cut with such a deep V front? Really, must I have to show all? Why can't we have a wee bit more fabric? For that matter, I'm highly skeptical that these shirts are really going to last through 9 months. Some of them are really not long enough as is. Please please don't make me go buy even more clothes. I can just feel the extra weight on me around my face and hips. I know that it's largely vanity, but it really makes me uncomfortable to look and feel like this. I really thought that it wouldn't be a huge deal to gain this weight knowing that I was gaining it for a reason. But no, it's been heartwrenching every time I've stepped on a scale for the past 7+ months. Maybe I should have really tried to give up vanity for Lent. But then again, maybe I should try to give that up for always and not just Lent. Now there's a novel idea...

The Flavor of the Day

I really like ice cream, really really really really. But I admit that I'm a bit of an ice cream snob. Why waste your quota of calories on sub-par ice cream? With that theory in mind, I'm going to admit to a somewhat strange addiction. I have Culver's flavor-of-the-day website saved in my favorites, and yes, I visit it. Nearly every day. I rarely go, but it's good to know that the information is there and handy at my fingertips. And, I can drool on the inside and plan my weekends accordingly. Yep. I have done it before.

I just felt like writing about this. I have no quote. I don't feel like searching hard core for a quote about ice cream.