So far, strangely enough, I'm very much enjoying my all-by-my-lonesome holiday. I have yet to put on clothes properly, I've done laundry, opened the presents from my Dad and B. (notably: soft and fuzzy socks, a new leather folio, and these fantastic ear warmers that you can slide headphones right into), gathered the trash to go out, snacked on mint M&Ms, straightened up a little, moved a bookcase about an inch (but what a difference an inch makes), and banished the Christmas music that I woke up with on mental radio by means of a fantastic present from L.: Tapis Rouge: Cirque de Soleil remixes, which he bought while he was in Montreal. Amazing chillout/world electronica material.

Dad had urged me not to be alone today, and to perhaps go to a service. I'm finding it not so bad, though. I didn't think I'd have a problem with it, and I don't. I'm not sure if this is a function of how little Christmas has meant to me since my Aunt passed away, or just evidence that I really, really needed a complete mental holiday from everyone.

Happy whatever-you-celebrate.

I got the job!

Overtime pay = ++good
Actually having to work overtime = ++bad

I only got home about an hour ago. This was supposed to be my day off, and I worked ten hours.

"I'm not even supposed to be here today!"

If ever I could use the good luck, folks, now would be the time.

They'll be consulting references this week in the hopes of making a decision by Friday.

I so want this job.

From Jolie: "I may not like everyone I come across, but I want to keep them. Breathe them in, remember their mannerisms, file them away neatly into drawers. I don’t like when people turn into ghosts."

I used to love listening to A Prairie Home Companion. Growing up, Dad and I would listen to it in the truck on our way back from wherever we were on Sunday nights (and we were always out somewhere that night).

And now, straight from Minnesota, he asks "What on earth happened to the GOP?"

University of Pittsburgh linguist contributes something useful: an examination of the word "dude."

Overheard in Target's electronics department:

Video Gamer Guy 1: And she wants to get Halo 2.
Video Gamer Guy 2: She likes Halo 2? Man, that's a keeper.
Video Gamer Guy 1: (mumbled protest)
Video Gamer Guy 2: No, man, she's a keeper if she likes Halo 2. But then she's not attractive. She can't like Halo 2 if she's attractive.

Thanks, jerks.

At least they had the grace to look abashed when I swung around the corner of the aisle, pile of video games in hand.

"That's really hot, too" is the response I got in the midst of a conversation in which I was asked if I chewed tobacco. The answer to that, of course, is no. The guy expressed regret, because "chicks who do that are really hot." But the recent adoption of smoking the occasional cigar was a natural mention (stupid as I am), and then I got the quote in question.

He asked if I wanted to hook up moments later.

My "job" is so weird.

I think I found my first confirmed gray hair today. Except I'm not certain if it's gray, or just bleached out the way my hair sometimes is. On its own: not with any help from me.

Oh, and if I ever say I'm bored, and I'm not restrained in any way (don't have access to my stuff, am sick so can't concentrate or whatever, etc), kick me. Hard.

So, after an OS reinstall, the computer's back up and running, albeit in a castrated state due to lack of its usual complement of software. Working on that, though.

So my computer has decided that restarting every time it hits Windows is a good idea. The one possibility for fixing it did nothing.

"Crap" doesn't begin to cover it.

It's over. As far as I know, I'll be receiving my MFA (and Teaching with Technology certificate) as of Saturday. I've cleaned out my cube, turned in my keys, and only need to return a few pesky missing library books.

Now to find a job.

I'm head-and-shoulders into my thesis presently, and also don't have Internet access at my new place. Thus, I may be a bit distant until after August 11 (the dreaded due date).

Before I left, Dad got me a cake. Despite a long car ride, I managed to take it with (and keeping it cold was kind of a pain). So now it's sitting at the new place, as am I (actually getting some work done on my thesis, since my computer's here, although no internet means no distractions--but also no info when I need it). Problem is, plates are still packed, and silverware's absent as of yet.

Although I did experiment with cutting cake with chopsticks. That was amusing.

Back to thesis work with me.

Before beginning this post, you should know that I write this with bemused fondness, not the sarcasm it probably reads as.

So before I left, I mentioned to Dad that I wanted some Wisconsin cheese to take back with me (mostly because the cheese selection around here isn't fantastic). Now, in answer to this he passes along a package of "sharp cheddar cold pack cheese food" that he had around. Now, this isn't even a debate about whether or not cheese spread is actually cheese (which it's not). The point of this story comes when he packs it up for me to take with.

He took the spread out of its bag so it could go in the cooler—-this particular spread, being "genuine," needed to be kept cold. He looked at the little gift bag (with cows on it and red handkerchief-patterned tissue) from The Cheese Box, a local-ish shop (from the town on the other end of our ten-mile-long lake) and apparently decided the crackers would be lonely. He picked up a can of tuna and a can of salmon that he had sitting on the counter, and asked me if I ate tuna. I said yes, and emphasized how much of it I usually kept handy. He then proceeded to put both cans in the gift bag, next to the crackers, despite protests that I've got plenty.

Because you know, I can't go buy a couple dollars worth of canned fish if I ran out. Which I won't anytime soon, of course.

Despite this brouhaha, I sit here in front of my computer, eating cheese food and crackers because I'm hungry, but the food selection at this house presently is slim, and that which you can eat without utensils even slimmer (and going out of the house would make me feel like I was shirking on my thesis work, even though I'm doing so presently by typing this). So, you know, maybe Dad wasn't so far off.

Except I've got no can opener for the tuna out either. Smart me.

But you know, for "cheese food," it's not bad.

And I need to make another trip to the dealership. With six hours of the ride back left, my car's CD player decided it liked the CD it had in it so much that it kept it. But wouldn't play it for me, oh no. Instead I had to resort to radio. The number of country and/or Bible-thumping stations between western Ohio and here astounds me. Thank the powers that be for NPR. I caught the debate between Dean and Nader about third party candidacy and the election process. Fascinating. I freaking loved Nader's support of a binding "none of the above" vote. I will note, though, that neither of them wanted to touch the question about how we can open up the presidency to women and atheists. I found it interesting to note that whether or not women and atheists can even run is unclear.

I arrived back to find that virtually all my belongings (which had already been boxed) had been moved to the new place by L. and J.

My friends rock. The end.

So, I've made three trips to the dealership today. As soon as I left from the (supposedly) simple oil change that turned into a bunch more little things, I found out my driver's side (power) window had decided to die.

Better I find out now than on my trip, as I kept saying.

I feel like someone took my energy, stomped on it, kicked it in the stomach, and then ran away.

That'll teach me for doing heavy lifting and hauling when I'm technically sick.

Yup: I've got bronchitis. I just hope I didn't pass it along to anybody before I found out for sure.

My students are planning an end-of-class potluck for Thursday night. I know it may not really have anything to do with me (although I am invited. I checked.), given that I just happened to be put in charge of a great bunch of people, but I'm finding myself immensely flattered, nonetheless.

In the past, it's been rare that I find teaching quite this rewarding, so these moments are immensely valuable to me.