This is what it looks like when you forget to blog for an entire summer.

I present to you: A List, of Sorts.

Left James in Kentucky yesterday and made the 6 hr drive back by myself. Indiana is a looong state and Louisville has never seemed as far away as it does right now…

It’s NASCAR week in my Podunk town and those race fans want their booze and cigarettes. This race is serious bidness, folks…

On that note, I am so grateful to have a job with decent pay and, once schools starts, will get me 40 hrs each week while simultaneously working with my graduate studies schedule. Not to mention, I work with some A-okay folks…

Even though the wedding is over a year away, planning is underway and on a roll. Date: check. Venue: check. Caterer: check. Decorators: check. Sanity: check…

Allergy season is full swing now. Cue the itchy, puffy, sneezy, leaky, and general miserable auro of hay fever. But with allergy season comes…

Fall! It I so close I can almost taste the crunchy sweetness of dry leaves. And yes, I do go out of my way to step on that particularly crunchy leaf…

Happy Friday, folks. Enjoy it, soak in it, and keep smiling.

Happy Wednesday, folks

I love those days when I'm productive yet don't feel exhausted once I'm done. Today is one of those days. Thank you, Wednesday, for being so awesome. Here's to hoping that tomorrow's day outside in the garden is just as fantastic.

today's to-do list: item #1 - don't get caught

"How do you feel about lists," the bow-tie wearing professor asks the class as his devoted--though admittedly inattentive at this moment--student completes a personal list of tasks that require immediate attention that day. The question catches her attention and she looks up, eager to offer proof of her love of lists. She glances right to smile at the friend beside her who had only finished her own to-do list just minutes previously.

The professor speaks again: "I hate lists."

As swiftly and seemingly casual as possible, the two girls flip their lists facedown so as to elimiate the evidence. Not swift enough, however. The two occupants of the table to their left are both staring with knowing-smirks, fully aware of what has gone down just feet away.

Proceeding with a smile, the professor then reveals to the class that he is actually referring to his disdain of the idea we can achieve spiritual transcendence by following a list of steps. No longer sheepish, the once-inattentive student smiles wider as she imagines the professor's perspective on Joel Osteen and his "seven steps living at your full potential." She stifles a laugh, pretending to clear her throat as she maintains an academic front.

The professor is oblivious to the series of events that just unfolded before his unseeing-eyes and resumes his lecture. All is well with the world.

#338

I know that He exists.
Somewhere—in Silence—
He has hid his rare life
From our gross eyes.

‘Tis an instant’s play.
‘Tis a fond Ambush—
Just to make Bliss
Earn her own surprise!

But—should the play
Prove piercing earnest—
Should the glee—glaze—
In Death’s—stiff—stare—

Would not the fun
Look too expensive!
Would not the jest—
Have crawled too far!

top 5 genuine regrets of my college career.....

1. Failing to see the opportunity to create a specialized major in Women’s Studies in English literature.
2. Neglecting friendships because of my inability to plan ahead and maintain a consistent, responsible, and considerate schedule.

Okay, so that’s only two. Whatever. They’re still regrets. And while it is too late to do anything about the first one, the second one does not have to continue. This will not continue past this weekend. Period.

Because, let’s face it, I miss you both more than I can say.

What do you call the space between the letters A and B?

Why is it that when I need to have an assertive Type A personality, I can only be Type B, but then in other situations when my sanity begs for some Type B ease, all I can do is try to control what I can't?

Recent points of (almost) interest in my life . . .

On a slightly impressive (yet excessive) note. . .
. . . I started cleaning out my closet today (not in an R. Kelly/Eminem way, but in the literal sense). From it, I have four bags of trash, thre bags of clothes to give away, and at least twenty-five purses in possession (seven of which I will be parting with—and that’s even following the “if you haven’t used it within the last year, pitch it,” rule).

On a slightly more serious note . . .
. . . Sometime between installing our new pool pump last night and me putting a hand in the water this morning, the wiring must’ve gone on the fritz. So I can now say that I have experienced minor electrocution (I say minor because I am still alive and it only made my body go numb as opposed to frying any vital organs). Apart from residual “I feel like I’ve been sitting on my limbs and they’re almost asleep” effects, I am fine and will only et better with time. Needless to say, it was a bit terrifying and I have now met my summer’s excitement quota . . .

On a slightly pathetic note . . .
. . . I finally made it into the fair trade store in Chelsea, MI, where I broke down into tears at the stand with Ugandan jewelry, handmade in Jinja. I’ve never been a supporter of/believer in retail therapy, but it was necessary at his point. I will say, however, that the Ecuadorian scarf and the Congo keychain (Congon, Congonian…?) probably weren’t as necessary as the Ugandan earrings, but I’m not going to feel bad about it, because it was fair trade and it was all 17.5% off (though James tells me that “But it’s on sale,” is an awful excuse. Pssht. What do boys know?).

On a slightly disappointing note . . .
. . . I am still on book #3 of my summer reading list [sighs]. And I only just realized yesterday that I have a 30+ page research paper studying Charlotte Brontë’s feminist influence on the expectations and roles of women in Victorian England.

On an uplifting note . . .
. . . My cat is hysterical, my family is beautiful, and my God is merciful.