can i sleep now?

What a rough weekend. It's the end of the semester crunch, and I've just spent the last several days grading papers I was behind on, transcribing interviews (it takes between five and eight minutes for me to transcribe one minute of speech, and I've got 2 1/2 hours of interviews), and writing a draft of a paper for my history class. Of course, everything has been taking me about five times the amount of time I expected it to take, so I'm still behind where I wanted to be at this point (I need to do some editing work to bring in the "big" bucks, and still have some grading left) and about fifteen hours behind on sleep. Thanks to Chris who told me I take years off of my life every time I short myself on sleep (what else am I supposed to do when it's crunch time?). Ah, but tonight--tonight I will sleep. Too bad I have to set my alarm to be teaching at 10:00. :)

Happy Tuesday, everyone. And don't worry if you don't hear from me until next weekend--it's the final push to the finish line from here on out.

i met her!

I met my baby niece Ella on Saturday. I adore her--the way she sleeps (she makes funny noises and faces and flings her arms wide), the way she cries (Ruthie was right! that girl has lungs), the way she likes to look at lights. I've posted an album of pictures of her, and plan to keep adding to it when I can. Enjoy!

pumpkin pie disaster

So I fancy myself to be a good cook and baker. But those who tasted of my baking skills the first time on Wednesday may have a different opinion, and may never taste anything I bake again.

On Wednesday nights I have class, and my prof always brings the seven of us that are enrolled goodies--orange slices (dad's favorite), fruit, pretzels--an odd assortment of munchies. One week he even brought in fried chicken, and I had to endure the smell of it for three hours (I don't like chicken). I thought I'd contribute this week with a pumpkin pie, since I've been craving one. I prepared the crust and mixed the pie filling (all from scratch, although I'll admit I use canned pumpkin) and baked the pie. I even let it go an extra five minutes since it didn't quite seem to be done when I checked it. I pulled it out, let it cool for two hours, and brought it to class.

Everyone but one person wanted some, and so I served everyone else first. Then I took a bite. It was the worst pumpkin "pie" I've ever tasted. While my prof and a couple of other people were exclaiming over how good it was, I was trying to choke it down. I didn't know if they were just being nice by eating it all and telling me they liked it or if they actually liked it, but I could barely stomach it. The pie wasn't done. Unlike the beautiful picture here, it was not yet solid, and more like pumpkin pudding or mousse in a pie crust. The guy who didn't eat any was probably the luckiest of the bunch. I took the last two pieces home and threw them away, all the while feeling mortified that others actually ate the stuff. I'll have to redeem myself when we get back from Thanksgiving break. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone, if I don't get back on and blog before then! And have some good pumpkin pie for me--just stick a knife in it to be sure it's done. :)

mentally challenged

It's been an exhausting week--mentally and emotionally. In the past week,

• I learned two of our good friends are having a baby
• I learned my cat had a heart murmur
• I had my first dissertation committee meeting
• A friend's mother died
• I started a new antibiotic (Keflex), which (yay!) so far I'm not allergic to, but am suffering from one of its less pleasant side effects
• My niece was born
• I learned my cat has the beginnings of heart disease
• I started medicating my cat, which means she hides from me for hours a day

Put all those together and you've got a tired, worn-out, lonely Rhonda. One who can't wait to drive home Friday, be with her husband, family, and friends, and meet her niece. One who also needs to grade 43 papers by Friday morning. And do her homework and research project on top of that. Hmm. This next week is going to be interesting, too--interesting to see how much work I actually get done. Better get started.

And hey, people, send me more pictures. I didn't get any last night and was very disappointed.

i couldn't resist...

...a few more Ella Jean pics! (I need my fix. My sis is sending them to me since I can't be there and meet my new niece until the weekend. :) )

Aunt Beth and Ella Jean

Beth's been calling her "Ella Jean, Little Bean" for a while now. What do you think? Does it fit?

Looking at Grandpa Earl for one of the first times in her life

Daddy, Uncle Al says you look like Grizzly Adams. Who's Grizzly Adams?

Mommy, why do all these people keep taking pictures of me?

heart woes

I went to the small animal hospital at the vet med school today. After four hours and $600, they told me that she has the beginnings of a heart disease (probably the same thing that Sinbad had) and recommended a prescription. I took it, meaning I'll have to shove 1/4 of a pill down her throat twice a day, possibly for the rest of her life. But at least I get to keep my girl for now. And hopefully for a long, long time to come.

While I was at the animal hospital, I heard a story that made me cry and left me praying for the family it affected. A woman and her young teenage daughter brought in a chihuahua from the neighboring state, probably a four-hour drive. The woman was crying, and told her dog's story to another woman in the waiting room. Apparently, there's a condition where the dog's brain can slip out of place and down toward the spinal cord. Usually, when this happens a dog dies fairly quickly. However, for some reason their dog has survived two and a half years in this condition. She didn't say why, but I think the dog has been having adverse affects lately because she said they had an appointment scheduled to put him down today but just couldn't do it, so made the ride to the vet med school to see if there was anything they could do. They can't just do surgery to put the brain back into place, because when it slips it swells and then won't fit back into place. The woman got called in when she was done telling the story, and I couldn't help it. I started crying, and the woman who had been conversing with the family started crying, too. I just hope and pray that God spared this little dog's life and will give it many more years with its family.

i'm an auntie!

Ella Jean was born at 8:37 pm yesterday. She was 7 lbs., 12 oz. I don't know her "height" yet because as of the last time I talked to the family (11:00 pm), the doctors and nurses hadn't told them yet. It's amazing how much love I can feel for a little girl I haven't even met yet. I'm hoping to see her on Saturday.

Congratulations, Mommy and Daddy! She's beautiful.

it's only just begun

Yesterday I had my first dissertation committee meeting. Four of the six members on my committee were there--one's father passed away last week, and another lives out of state and couldn't be on the phone--but one of the committee members that did attend will have to be replaced since he's going on sabbatical next year in Europe (a little hard to serve on a committee when you're out of the country). By my chair's estimation, I was "great" and the meeting went excellently--he was really impressed. Yipee!

But now I think about all of the work, and about how organized I have to be, and I realize--it's only just begun.

In other news, I'm on my third day of "three days with no meds" commanded by my new doctor since I was allergic to Septra DS 800-160, a sulfa drug/antibiotic that we were hoping would get rid of my lingering cold/sinus infection/whatever it is that I have. I'm picking up another antibiotic today and starting it tomorrow, and if I'm allergic to that, too, I'm just going to tough it out. I'm feeling a bit better, but I'm afraid to trust that since I thought the same thing last week and ended up with a fever all weekend. Let's hope this new one works!

Finally (and this is the biggest news of all), our good friends Dennis and Cathy are having a baby! They're due around May 1st. Our circle of friends just keeps growing, and it's always a good thing. Congrats, Dennis and Cathy! Al and I are so happy for you and can't wait to meet your little one (an Asian friend for our kids, as Jungle says! :)).

Dennis and Cathy are pictured here, with Del and Nicole, after this year's Greasy Weasels Tiger game outing.

for a friend

in a dark room
the hardwood floors underneath me
grains of dirt
stick to the bottom of my feet

in the corner
back and shoulders
touching walls and door
hard
cool
reassuring

my arms wrap around my knees
and i rock
this is me
i am here
i am alone
and i cannot break free

i cannot call you
but i am hoping
you are thinking of me

********************************************************************************
Not my best poetry, but it's hard to capture a feeling of depression. I used to do this--sit in the corner of my living room, doing nothing for hours, feeling so depressed that I could not move or call anyone. I have a friend who is going through a tough time in life, and wanted to write something to capture the message that I may not know exactly what my friend is going through, but I have felt alone, depressed, and helpless, and am thinking of my friend constantly.

Love you, friend.

the rhonda tribune

Updates.

My dissertation prospectus (proposal) draft is in to my committee. I'm not completely satisfied with the methods section (which turned out to be the hardest thing for me to write, and the last thing I wrote), but I hope they won't be too hard on me, since the rest of the draft is top notch and it is just a draft. I do have a very detailed schedule in the methods section, so that will prove that I've put a lot of thought into it, at least.

More importantly than that, I've been worried for the past hour and a half about my cat. I couldn't help worrying, which made it harder to finish off that draft and send it. I took Sena in for her annual check-up and shots today and the vet found a heart murmur on the left side of the heart. She recommended I take Sena in for an ultrasound at the vet med school. I have an appointment scheduled there for Monday (I'm going to have to get someone to cover my class) and they'll listen to her heart again and tell me whether or not they recommend actually going through with the ultrasound. This heart condition worries me so much because her brother died of a blood clot, and they suspected a heart condition as the cause of it. I really don't want to lose my baby. I don't know what I'd do out here without her company.

Finally, I'm giving in and going to the doctor tomorrow. My cold, cough, and the last few days, fever (again) won't go away and I want to be able to hold my niece when I come home for Thanksgiving (she's due tomorrow--still waiting on her!). I'm getting tired of sleeping poorly and waking up sweating, so let's hope the doctor can diagnose me and give me something to help.

rhonda can't write

Rhonda's prospectus draft for her dissertation is "due" in less than 48 hours.
Rhonda can't write (writer's block).
What is Rhonda to do?

the goodness of gouda

Gouda is good.

I had forgotten how good gouda could be. A couple of weeks ago, I splurged and bought myself some gouda cheese. I put it in the cheese drawer (aka "the fruit and veggies drawer in the fridge that I don't use for fruit"--but I do have one for veggies) and promptly forgot about it. I rediscovered it last week, and around the same time I rediscovered that gouda is good. Very good.

How good is gouda?

My cat comes running when I open the package good.
My cat doesn't throw up after eating large amounts of it good (cats are lactose intolerant, you know).
I'm eating it for dinner with reduced fat Ritz crackers good.
Man could almost live on gouda and bread alone, good. (Well, when you're talking about physical hunger and needs, anyway.)

Gouda is good. Pick some up. You'll like it.

**********************************************************************************
The preceeding post was brought to you by the "Rhonda needs to stop whining and complaining" committee, who recently nominated my blog to be renamed "the whine-o." The committee discouraged Rhonda from telling you about her long-awaited weekend with her husband, which involved a still salient sickness (a bad, throat-hurting, head-stuffing-and- throbbing, snot-swallowing-and-puking cold and an emergency run to the local grocery store by her husband in search of Nyquill), approximately 40 hours of work, including a 30-hour stint (with breaks only for meals and teaching: no sleep), and, blissfully, a trip to an adorable cider mill for donuts and a cider slushie. Instead, they encouraged Rhonda to write about something positive and interesting for once. Positive, it is. Interesting? That's up to you to decide.

i want my mommy

I'm sick. And I want my mommy.

Anyone who knows me knows that I can be a pretty big baby when I'm healthy, but it's worse when I'm sick. When I lived close enough, I would call mom whenever I got sick and ask her to bring me soup or take care of me in some other random way. Now I'm 600 miles away and can't exactly ask her to come take care of me, but my husband is coming to town tomorrow. I guess I'll give him a chance and see if he does a good job. Since he can't cook, I doubt he'll be a great substitute for mom, but at least he'll try!

restless

restless
my mind is racing
it can't sit still
though my body belies this fact with its calm appearance

i want to pace
i want to move
my mind jumps
thought to thought, image to image
no coherence

"don't make me think!"

organization is superimposed
unnatural
like strapping me down
when all i want to do is run

**********************************************************************************
I'm pretty restless today, especially since my "partner" for a presentation I'm supposed to give next week and a reading guide and discussion we're supposed to distribute tomorrow missed our meeting last week and hasn't responded to my emails since. Meaning? I'm having to do all of the work to make sure I get a good grade (or just a grade, even). Not good form when you're at the Master's level in your education, as she is. Ugh. And I've been having trouble concentrating these last couple of days, which doesn't help. But Al's coming to see me on Friday, so I'll get through it. I have to!

Happy Monday.

a redeeming day

First, I have to apologize for complaining and moping so much online recently. The first two days in DC were hard, and the lack of sleep didn't help. And although others frequently slighted me, I'm sure that most of it wasn't intentional. I'm just too sensitive.

Friday was the day that redeemed the DC trip for me, though. Not that I can say it was a great trip, but it was a good day. I couldn't sleep so got up at 5:00 am, showered, and did some work on the computer. By 7:15, I was taking my husband's advice and walking out the front door of the hotel to wander around DC on my own. We stayed at the Hyatt Regency near Union Station, and I took advantage of the nearness of all of the major attractions. I walked toward the capital and past it, around the American Indian Museum, down the National Mall where they had some solar home competition going on, past the Washington Monument, through the park beyond it, and past the Vietnam Memorial. I couldn't help crying as I saw (again) all of the names on that wall of people that gave their lives for our country in a war that people didn't even support. I was glad my dad's name wasn't on there, and that the bullet he got just went through his arm and not his heart. (If his name was on there, I wouldn't be here at all, come to think of it.) I walked into the city, down to George Washington University, and then took the metro back to the hotel. I went to a morning session and then, a few minutes later, it was our turn for the presentation (I was presenting with Karen, another PhD student from my department). Twelve people came, and none from our school--a very good turnout for a grad student on the last day and second-to-last session of the conference. Then I headed home, listening to Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince all the way. My day in a nutshell, and not too exciting, but redeeming. Since I made you suffer through my misery, thought I'd let you know it all turned out okay.

Goodnight, and make tomorrow a happy Sunday.

discourage(ment)

I just went to the only session I was truly interested in here at ABC. A topic very similar to my own interests, very dear to my heart. I enjoyed the presentation and spoke to the presenter afterward. I complimented her, talked a little about the subject, then mentioned what I'm doing (admittedly, hoping she'd come to my presentation tomorrow). There was that slight hesitation and that look on her face that told me, immediately, that she was dismissing my ideas out of hand, that she placed no value in them and was thinking, that won't work. She didn't say that, but I could tell she was thinking it. Then she said, "Yeah, I use [enter technology I'm using here] too." The conversation ended shortly thereafter.

I just have one question. I gave your ideas consideration, although I don't think they're new, innovative, or altogether brilliant. I enjoyed your presentation and your ideas nonetheless. Why can't people do the same? I know that look and that hesitation (and dismissal, in the final comments) wasn't meant to be interpreted by me, but I caught them nonetheless. It was almost as bad as having them rejected outright by someone at another conference once who didn't value the type of research I like to do and so wouldn't listen to anything about it (although she was supposed to be leading a research symposium, listening to our studies and giving us suggestions for publication venues and such). This entire trip I've felt more and more like no matter where I go, who I'm with, or what I do, I'm the least important person in the room. When I talk, others allow interruptions without apology or return to my comments--if they even acknowledge that I'm spoken. I just feel like screaming, "I'M HERE, PEOPLE. I EXIST TOO. PLEASE ACKNOWLEDGE IT!" I might as well just be talking to walls. I want to go home. I miss my cat. At least she listens to me (sometimes).

Thanks for listening (reading). I needed to let it out somehow, and this is better than screaming at the top of my lungs in the middle of a professional conference, even if I don't have any intention of ever coming back.

alien(ated)

I'm in Washington DC at the Association of Business Communication conference. It's the first day of the conference and I have never felt more out of place. Some people don't differentiate between technical communication and business communication, but to me the difference is vast. Which results in me not being much interested in most of the sessions. So what am I doing at 11:00 am Eastern time instead of attending a session? I'm writing a blog and about to do some work on my dissertation prosepectus, which I'm so far behind on that I'm almost sick to my stomach (of course, that could also be the pumpkin spice latte I had this morning, since my body's not used to such a large infusion of sugar at once--I'm more of a salt girl, myself).

I did have an interesting trip here, though. As predicted, my layover through O'Hare was extended (but this time due to weather, to be fair). I stopped into the bar near my gate to have a beer and ended up talking to a cop from Liverpool for an hour and a half. He was in town for the Chicago marathon (which got cancelled due to heat--he said he went nine miles, and the only reason he went that far was because he saw people running out from side streets and stealing the shoes off of people's feet when they collapsed from exhaustion on the ground). We had an interesting talk--Jon (or Jonny, as his email address says) was nice, tall (6'8"), and ended up offering Al & I a place to stay if we ever make it to Liverpool. We exchanged email addresses and plan to keep in touch.

Like I said, I plan on working the majority of the day today, and I think I'll go ahead and do a little sight-seeing tomorrow. I wanted to bring my camera, but I had forgotten I left my cameras in Michigan when I left for school. I may buy one of those disposables, though. Just depends since I don't have anyone to take pictures of or to take my picture. (I am here with some people from school, but after making at least ten remarks in the last 13 hours--as long as I've been here--that people seem to pretend I have not even made, I'm starting to feel like I don't exist and nothing I say matters to them anyway. It could be that they're just too caught up in their own stuff, and I know I can be like that, too, or it could be that they didn't hear me, but I don't think it's likely that every single time I spoke they didn't hear me. So I plan on being alone. It may be more fulfilling.)

Okay, gotta get to work. Oh, yeah. Saw a huge rat on the sidewalk on my short three-block walk from the train station to the hotel. I hoped it was a squirrel, it was so big, but nope--just a rat.

honeymoon, day four

I know you've all been waiting with baited breath...well, here's the entry you've been waiting for! And I've got a co-author today--my hubby! I gave him a writing assignment earlier this week (wouldn't it be great to have a writing teacher as a wife?), and I've interspersed what he wrote with my own memories. This is for us as much as it is for you, so enjoy, as we will in years to come!

Day four saw us taking a train to Limerick in the morning. When the cabbie dropped us off at Dublin Heuston Railway Station, he cautioned us with a grave look of concern on your face, "Be careful in Limerick. Hold on to your purse and wallet, and be careful where you go. It's full of crime out there." And Al immediately started to worry. He made sure his under-the-shirt fanny pack for money (yes, I'm telling on you for wearing it) was securely tied around his waist and out of site. I was expecting Detroit or worse, but I ended up loving Limerick. It had a cute pedestrian shopping area with brick streets (although not the best in the way of shops), a gorgeous church, and (of course) numerous pubs and bars. Al's memories as we got off the train and walked the block and a half to the hotel:

that old old place across from the hotel that was for sale,,, look like an old bank.
did we eat at the nasty fast food place the first day, then walked down the nice street with the people question us or welcomed us then we walked down by the river,, cool, then over to the castle,, stopped at the church,, which was cool, then got really creepy with the way the cemetery got dark, silent, rainy, and know one was around. we saw a couple of bums at the castle,,they were a little shady,, the housing on that side of the river was a little more run down, but not bad.

I don't remember the place across from the hotel, unless it was the place on the left as we walked through the square. We stayed at Pery's Best Western in the Georgian part of town, the cheapest place we stayed the entire trip...well, besides the cottage that was free! (We'll get to that eventually.) The "nasty fast food place" was some burger joint that was trying to be its own version of McDonald's, but half of their items weren't on the menu and what was on the menu was--well, Al's right. Disgusting. But we were hungry. When we "walked down the nice street" we were in the pedestrian shopping district and I made Al turn around and go back to the hotel with me so I could get my camera. I had forgotten it, and loved the scenery. The people who "questioned us" were from some group--a charity? I can't really remember now. I just know it wasn't religious. We actually saw two churches that day. One was in town, at the far end of the shopping district and at the end of one of the streets. I've put a picture of that here because it was kindof cool how you can turn the corner and run into a building that's several hundred years old and has a gothic feel to it. I also remember that there were all these little bakeries around that made me wish I hadn't eaten--the smells coming from them were heavenly, mixtures of sweet smells and smells of warm bread. I went into one wanting a hot chocolate, because it was a little chilly and wet that day, but they didn't have any and I didn't feel like drinking coffee.

The river was the River Shannon. I've read before that newlyweds should take a dip in the River Shannon to bring good luck to their marriage, but we settled for taking pictures of ourselves on the shore and on a bridge over the river. One of my favorite pictures from the honeymoon was there, and I've posted it here. The castle was King George's castle, and really wasn't that impressive in the way of castles. I can't remember if it was the castle that looked like it was a failed tourist center or a building close by, but whatever it was was closed up and looked deserted. The castle was the only thing that reminds me of Detroit, now that I think back on it. The "bums" on the steps drinking and smoking, the broken bottles, and the graffiti on the walls remind me of home sweet home (sorry, but I do love Detroit). I remember walking back towards the river and having the walls of the homes literally at the edges of the slanting sidewalks (the street I'm thinking of was on a hill). Most of the windows had some type of white lace curtains, thin enough to let the light in but thick enough to keep prying eyes out.

That "creepy" cemetery in the second church was one of my favorite spots in Limerick. It seemed to be right out of a Buffy episode (and here we have the degradation of Irish culture with a reference to modern-day pop culture. Sorry, but I love Buffy!). We thought we were on a path that would lead us out of the churchyard another way, but nope!

then we stopped for a few pints at the place by the river then ate upstairs, I liked the other couple that met at the bar, the guy was on a motorcycle and he picked up groceries and brought them in with him, and he was soaking wet. food was good up stairs.
then we stopped at that other bar, that was suppose to be 80’s music.. that place kinda stunk.. but it was all right.
where did we go after that?

The groceries were a big bag of fresh produce. Such an odd thing to see someone carry into a pub. They sat next to him for an hour while he drank his...Michelob? It was a light beer, and I think that pub did have Michelob or something light like that. Al might have liked the food upstairs, but I didn't. I ordered fish and chips, thinking I'd get a wonderfully greasy dish of fried fish. It was potato crusted and dry instead, and the fact that it was probably fresh didn't make up for the disappointment of the way it didn't meet my expectations. I couldn't eat it. I don't even think the fries were good.

The "other bar" was definitely not what we expected. We saw a sign on the door saying that they had retro punk on Thursdays, and since it was Thursday, we went in. It was modern (definitely not what you'd call an Irish pub) and the young'un behind the counter had no idea what a Black and Tan was. They didn't have Smithwick's (you can't really find Harps in most pubs or bars in Ireland, so they make B&Ts with Smithwick's when they know what B&Ts are). And the music? Definitely not what we were expecting. I think the "dj" (bartender?) was playing whatever he felt like playing. There were a few people there, but I don't remember much about them. I remember more about the decor--chairs and booths on platforms and, if I remember correctly, covered in cow hides or something like that, mixed with high ceilings and modern lighting and accessories at the bar.

After that, we went off to try to find a pub that was supposed to have good music according to our tour maps. We never found it and ended up in a pub with a few locals in the other room, and everyone but the bartender ignoring us. By that time, I was tired of drinking, so I sat there while Al watched some sports game on the television and had a pint. Then we headed back to the room where I tried to get Al to watch La Femme Nikita on the portable DVD and he fell asleep. I had a harder time sleeping, because we had the window open (again, no air conditioning) and there was a bar across the street from our hotel with loud music. Later that night (I think it was that night, and not the next) we woke up to the sound of a drunk who was obviously locked out of his room, and a few minutes later by the sound of a porter coming by to tell the drunk he was disturbing the rooms around him. Ironically, it was the porter who woke me up the second time, not the drunk.

just for fun

I had to show off my adorable fat cat. She's very vocal, as you will see--but her constant chatter keeps me company!

my dream day

My dream day today would be a drive and hike through the woods somewhere where the air is crisp but not cold (good sweater weather) and where fall leaves are at their peak. With my husband, of course. I'd just let the tension drain out of my body and do my best to relax. But since my dream day isn't going to happen, let me revise it.

My dream day today would be to spend a few good, solid hours working on my website, which I'm relearning to do for a class and have spent very little time on. I'd get a lot done and love what I did. I'd go to class, come home, and perhaps take a little nap or relax before doing my homework for my other class. I'd accomplish that work by 6:00 pm and still have plenty of time to wind down for the day. I'd empty my dishwasher and get the dirty dishes out of my sink (and into the dishwasher), and I'd have time to work on a personal project my sister and I have been working on since this summer. I'd go to bed at a decent hour (between 10:00 and 11:00), get eight blissful hours of sleep in which I neither woke up or slept in awkward positions that resulted in aching, painful muscles in the morning. I'd wake up refreshed and ready to tackle another day.

Not very ambitious, but I'm hoping. I've been fairly busy if you haven't guessed, barely taking a minute for myself in between studying and doing homework. The stress level is amping up a bit and I'm doing my best to control it. Mostly I'm glad to be this busy, because it makes it easier without Al, Dana, or Stephanie here (I've mostly been a social hermit, only going out twice with Stephanie, once with a lecturer friend of mine, Jim, and once with my office mate, Masha. My Netflix tend to sit around for weeks and my library books are overdue. My apartment goes through stages of cleanliness (three hours) and mess (gradually worsening over three weeks) and I need to do laundry, but haven't made it down to the clubhouse to put money on my money card. I'm not complaining, though; just...tired. I'm hoping this trip to DC next week (I've got a conference to go to) will provide some rest, although the prep before-hand and the catching up afterward may not make that goal very easy.

I hope your lives are full of love, laughter, and relaxation. Here's to having a good day.

honeymoon, day three

It was Wednesday, June 13. I awoke to daylight streaming through our window at Camden Court Hotel and wondered what time it was. Flipping on the television, I found the BBC and the clock read 5:40 am. That can't be right, I thought. It's too light outside to be that early. The time must be different in England. I called down to the wake-up call service and asked for a wake-up call around 9:00 (I think) so we wouldn't miss breakfast. Then I asked what time it was at the moment. "Twenty of six, miss," the man on the other end of the line said. England and Ireland were on the same time, then. It was just really, really bright. I pulled the curtains shut and went back to sleep. I was later to find out that, coming so close to time for the summer solstice as we were, we were hitting Ireland in its longest hours of daylight. It didn't get dark until about 10:30 pm, and it got light again around 5:00 am. That's fine, but when you don't have a watch or clock to tell you what time it is when you wake up at night (as is my habit), it gets a little confusing to have so few hours of darkness.

When we did get up, Al and I went down and experienced our first "Irish Breakfast," with which we grew quite familiar over the next few days. Apparently, the Irish don't believe in much variety for breakfast. My suspicions about this were confirmed later in the trip by Al's cousin, Daragh, who said he wished they could get pancakes in Ireland. His mother, Patricia, explained that not many places make a big deal about breakfast. Our breakfast consisted of a continental breakfast bar--bread (with which you could make toast), croissants, scones (but heavier--more dense--than scones you get in bakeries over here--ours are more like desserts, theirs are more like rocks), fruit, and an assortment of cereals. Just your typical continental breakfast. But then there was the hot breakfast--fried or scrambled eggs, tomatoes cut in half and grilled, poached, or otherwise warmed up, sausage, hashbrowns, "pudding" (nothing like ours--I have no idea how you eat the stuff), oatmeal, and "rashers"--bacon that is thick slabs of chewy stuff. Nothing like the crispy bacon I love--what they call "streaky bacon." And the ever-present tea or coffee, of course (they seem to push the tea).

After breakfast, we set out to find a bus--the "Hop On Hop Off City Tour" bus with live commentary on all tours. It's just like it sounds--you pay one price (14 Euro, in our case) and for the next twenty-four hours, you can hop on and off the bus as you please. They go to all the major sites in Dublin and tell you about the city as you drive along. We picked up the bus around stop 9 of 21 stops, and decided to ride it through before getting off and going to Dublin Castle and then to the Guiness Warehouse. Al's cousin Patricia recommended the castle; we wanted the Guiness. As we boarded the bus, the driver said, "Upstairs," and up we went. It was raining, and only the first two rows of seats up top were covered. I'm sure it was uncovered to help with the picture-taking, but in Ireland, where it rains more than the sun shines, I'm not sure that was the wisest choice. We started to sit and someone else left, so we grabbed their dry seats and managed to stay minimally dry. And the commentary by our first bus driver was quite lively--he even sang songs in the midst of telling stories.

Before I get to Dublin Castle, let me tell you everything else we passed on doing since we only had limited time in Dublin: Trinity College, where they keep the Book of Kells (an old copy of part of the Bible that monks copied down and did some fancy artwork on); the Temple Bar district, which we actually walked through later that night, but Al and Patricia didn't want to get a drink because they thought it was too crowded and noisy--I thought it was excited and was very disappointed and a little bit bitter that we didn't get to stay (hey, it was my honeymoon, not his cousin's, but I didn't want to be rude, either); Christ Church Cathedral and St. Patrick's Cathedral; the museums; and this great-looking park called Phoenix Park on the outskirts of town.

There. Now, Dublin Castle. Dublin Castle was built around and over the remains of a Norman fortress, which itself was built over Viking defenses. It is currently the seat of Irish government--their presidents get inaugurated in St. Patrick's Hall within the castle--and it was the seat of British rule in Ireland when the Brits were in charge. It was a typical tour, walking through roped-off rooms that didn't allow you to see too much, but the tour guide did tell us an amusing story about the Lady Liberty statue above one if the castle gates. He said it is a joke to the Irish, since her back is facing the city--Lady Liberty faces in towards the castle and the seat of power for the government. In addition, she holds a pair of scales in one hand, and whenever it would rain (quite often, of course), the scales would fill with rain and tip. They have since rectified that problem by drilling holes in the bottom of the scales for the water to drain out. Third, though, I guess most statues of this sort either are blindfolded or have their eyes closed--a "liberty and justice for all" sort-of thing. Not this one. Her eyes are wide open.

After the castle, we hopped back on the bus and headed for the Guiness Warehouse and St. James Brewery. It is, of course, the typical tourist trap, but that doesn't make it any less fun. It's got seven stories, and you work your way through the warehouse on your own, story by story, until you reach the top. If you take the time, you can find out all about making stout (we didn't, although we read/watched some of the info/videos they had around). There is a waterfall, some huge old copper vats, a lot of the machinery that they used to make the stout from, some barrells with an informational video showing how they used to make them by hand and without measuring tools, a section for advertising, and even a floor where you can try your hand at pouring your own pint. The top floor is a circular bar, where you redeem a plastic blue ring for your very own pint and get to look out through glass walls on the city of Dublin. My bartender put a shamrock design in the foam on top of my Guiness.

Guiness didn't end the day for us; by the time we got out of there, it was only about 4:30. We hopped back on the bus and got caught in a traffic jam. The traffic in Dublin, by the way, is horrific. Narrow streets, double-decker busses, hundreds of small cars, motorcycles, bikes, and pedestrians--and they all cram up next to each other, get in each other's way, and act like they're the only ones on the roads. We hopped off the bus early and took a walk towards the area we were going to meet Patricia for dinner, and as we did so, we walked through the hotel owned by Bono (U2), The Clarence Hotel. It, and the bar within it, The Octagon, were a bit of a disappointment. Pretty small and pretty dead. It was a Wednesday afternoon, though, and expensive since Bono got his hands on it. Right after that was our first pass through the Temple Bar district, and there were so many cute little pubs with flowers set on the second-floor window sills. It was picture-perfect with the brick streets, pedestrians, and all of the color--but I didn't take a picture. I was sure we'd come back, and we did--for about two seconds, not quick enough for a pic, nevermind a pint. Ugh.

We met Patricia at a French restaurant called Sixty-6 (something like that) and experienced our first uber-expensive meal in Ireland. I was a bit surprised when Al said we were going French--here we were in Ireland, and all I wanted was fish and chips. I knew I wasn't getting that at a French restaurant, but that's okay. I knew I would make do, and I did. I had veal milanese (it was huge) and Al and Patricia both had sirloin steaks with fries. And here an obsession started: they served the fries in buckets with garlic mayo. I knew the french ate fries with mayo instead of ketchup, and used to eat them like that with Julie, but hadn't done it in a while. But after those fries and that mayo--both scrumptious--I craved mayo with fries for the rest of the trip. I never got garlic mayo again, but no more ketchup for me. I'm a mayo fan.

I know I keep talking about food, but I don't really remember much about our conversation with Patricia. We told her what we wanted to do/see while we were there and she flat-out said we wouldn't be able to do it all, and I was a bit miffed. Don't tell me what I can and can't do on my honeymoon! Especially if it's because we have to see more family in the middle of the week and they aren't located in a convenient spot for the rest of what we wanted to do! Of course, I didn't say this, and I tried not to have too much of my disappointment show with Al later, either. I did remind him, though, that this was our honeymoon--yeah, his family was here, but it wasn't a family vacation. I wanted time alone with him, and I wanted to do what we wanted, not what the family thought we should do. I know, I'm sounding selfish right now, but it all worked out great in the end, and I love his family, so don't be too hard on me. That's just what I felt at the time.

We decided to get a drink with Patricia after dinner, but that was already after we had walked halfway to our hotel. I mentioned that I liked Temple Bar district, so off we went. But I already told you what happened there: we entered one pub, walked all the way through it, and Al and Patricia decided it was too crowded and too noisy to visit so we walked right back out and away from Temple Bar district. Grrr. I tried to calm myself down by telling myself that after we dropped off Patricia, we could go back. But we walked and bussed all the way back to our hotel, Al and I had beers while she had a lemon soda, I felt pressured to make a decision (by them) about what we were going to do with the remainder of our trip (which I didn't want to discuss in front of Patricia), and then Patricia went to the bus to go back to her car, all the way on the opposite side of Dublin. ??? Why didn't we just walk her towards her car and then have a pint? Don't know. I thought her car was by our hotel, and that was a misunderstanding. Didn't get to go back to Temple Bar district, but we did spend quite a while on the internet and figured out what we would do for the rest of the trip, which you'll have to wait to find out, because after we were finished, we fell into bed, exhausted...

Photo 1: Al and I on steps in a curtain wall at the Undercroft, underneath Dublin Castle. The Undercroft is a chamber with ruins dating back to Viking and Norman times (900 - 1200 A.D.).

Photo 2: Al and I in St. Patrick's Hall, Dublin Castle.

Photo 3: Al and I in the top floor of Guiness Warehouse. Behind us is a view of Dublin (not a mural).

Photo 4: A shamrock in my Guiness.

honeymoon day two

I'm ready! I'm ready! I'm ready!

Those of you who are Spongebob fans may recognize my little cheer there. Hey, I have to get myself psyched up to write about something happy after this morning. So here I am, ready to tell you about honeymoon, day two.

I awoke on the plane to Paris and stretched, but something went wrong. My left calf cramped like it had never cramped before. Just from a stretch! I tried to rub it out like I was taught to during lifeguarding lessons at the Garden City pool, all those years ago (just about the only knowledge and/or skill I retained from those days, since I don't really like to swim anymore), and thought I was successful. I got up to walk the ten steps to the bathroom and almost fell over. My, that hurt. It did for a day or so afterward, too. But enough about my leg.

As I said yesterday, I'm kind-of hazy on the breakfast thing. I think I was tired, not hungry, or didn't like the food, but I didn't eat it. Al did, watching his movies all the while. He hadn't slept a wink, even in the dark cabin with the stretch-out-so-you're-almost-lying-down comfy seats that we had. When we landed in Paris, it was around 9:00 am local time and our plane was at 10:00 something. In Detroit they had told us to get our boarding passes from Paris to Dublin in Paris, so off to the ticket counter we went.

Screeching halt. We went to the ticket counter and immediately knew something was wrong, because the clerk started speaking to her supervisor in French. My two years of high school French didn't allow me to follow the conversation very well (at all). Finally, she turned to us and told us, "Yes, they told you you'll be on the 10:00ish flight, but they didn't book you on it and there aren't any business class seats left. You'd have to fly coach. You'd also have to go through customs and then run across the airport, because that flight is boarding in a few minutes. Do you want to do that, or do you want to wait until a 2:00 flight?"

Ugh. Stupid Northwest. I thought about my leg, still hurting whenever I put a lot of pressure on it. Run? Across an airport? And what if we got held up in customs? Al was thinking we didn't want to take a chance either, so we opted for the later flight. That's how we ended spending four hours sitting around in an airport in Paris. We read, we people-watched, we looked around in shops, but why buy a Paris souvenir when all you see is the airport? To me, airports are neutral territory if you never leave them. Non-countries. No, I was never in France. Just in an airport and a plane in France, which is different. Anyway. I managed to order my lunch en francais, with the correct pronunciation and all--and the guy behind the counter understood me, and I understood him. Yay, high-school French!

In the Paris airport, police walk around in threes and greet each other when they see another group. The men shake hands politely, the women (and men greeting women) take hold of each other with both hands and kiss each other lightly on both cheeks. The Paris airport also has young military lads walking around in groups wearing camouflage and carrying large guns. Are the French at war? That's something I've never seen in Detroit--or Chicago, or Newark, and definitely not in my little college town.

We finally boarded the plane to Dublin, and by this time I was looking and feeling rather greasy and wiped out. It ended up being a tiny, old plane and the "business class" was a three-seater row shared by two people instead of three. How generous of them. They offered us champaigne, vodka, or orange juice. I wanted the vodka and orange juice, but just took the juice and promptly fell asleep. I woke up after the meal was served and gone. The flight attendant offered me a meal then, but Al said it wasn't very good, so I declined and watched out the window, which is when I took this picture. I awoke when we were flying over part of England and then on to Ireland. We weren't very high, and it was beautiful. By the time we landed--at 3:30ish, I was ready to get off the plane and excited for the real honeymoon to begin. But even though I was ready, the honeymoon wasn't.

Ugh. We waited fifty minutes for the bus that the lady at the ticket counter said would take us where we were going. When we got on, we had to go to the upper deck and sat in the front at the window. There was no air conditioning, and since it was one of their sunny-ish days, it was fairly hot. We didn't fit with us and our luggage in one row, so we sat in rows across from each other. Then a woman asked if she could sit next to me, and of course I said yes. I knew Al was already frustrated, because our destination wasn't even on the bus map and the bus driver told us it would take at least an hour to get there--we were stopping at every stop along the way. And it did take an hour, maybe more. But there weren't clear postings on the streets that corresponded to the map, so we had no idea where to get off. We asked the lady next to me; she didn't know, but another woman was kind enough to tell us we still had a "longish way to go--about twenty minutes" and told us what to look for. By the time we got to the hotel (Camden Court Hotel), it was 5:30 pm and we were pretty beat--we had been travelling for about 24 hours.

After we checked in, Al called his cousin, Patricia. We were meant to arrive in Dublin at 5:30 am, which would have given us all day to mosey around and then meet up with her for dinner. But our twelve-hour delay had worn us out, so we decided we'd just find a place to eat by ourselves and meet up with her the next day. The only problem was that we'd miss seeing her sons, Sean and Daragh, who we'd met last year (we took them to Cedar Point, and they are still convinced it is the best place in the world). I took a shower and asked if we could take a nap before eating. Al didn't want to, but since he laid down while I was showering, he was in need of a nap. I ended up staying up, afraid that neither one of us would wake up if we both fell to sleep--there was no clock in the room, and our phones weren't working, so I couldn't set an alarm. We went out to find something to eat around 7:30 or 8:00, and were surprised to discover that many places don't serve food at all--pubs are just pubs, drinking establishments, and if they do serve food, it's only between certain hours and we were too late. We ended up eating six-inch tall burgers at a place called Bobo's Gourmet Irish Burgers. They were pretty good, and the onion rings--served with mayo, french style--were the best I've ever had. Yummy! (No weight-watching on the honeymoon, I'm afraid.)

Back to the hotel room, stifling hot with no air-conditioning and only an open window to try to stave off the humidity from the previous week ("the weather was great last week!" everyone kept telling us), we fell fast asleep...

To be continued tomorrow

ahh...the honeymoon (day one)

Two weeks ago today (June 11), at this very moment, Al, Dana, dad and I were in my car headed to Detroit Metro Airport. Dana was flying back home to Colorado, and Al and I were off to our honeymoon in Ireland--a nine-night trip that we were really looking forward to. Dana's flight, unfortunately, wasn't until about 6:00 or 7:00 that night, but Al and I were to be off at 3:00 - or so we thought.

Dad dropped us off at the airport around 1:00, and Al and I headed to the ticket counter to check in and drop off our luggage. We were to fly to Boston and then head out to Dublin from there. We got up to the window and the Northwest clerk informed us, "You're not going to Boston. You're going to Paris. Your flight has been cancelled. You'll be flying Air France instead of Northwest and Aer Lingus."

Paris?? That didn't sound bad to me, and I actually hoped for some sort of a layover so we could get out of the airport, but it was a no-go. Then the bad news: "Your flight doesn't leave until 7:00 pm." Ugh. Then the good news: "We've bumped you up to business class, and we'll give you each $20 food vouchers to use in the airport while you wait." Business class? Just as good as first class--yippee! Sounded good to me, except for the waiting. We couldn't even check in for another two hours, so we went to the airport hotel, got Diet Pepsi, and watched television while we waited for 3:00 to roll around.

When 3:00 came, we were able to both check in and meet up with Al's brother, Mike, and our sister-in-law, Kim, and their son/our nephew, Aidan. We decided we'd all hook up once we had checked our luggage and cleared security, since we both had a bit of waiting time ahead of us. Then Al and I got up to the counter: "That's funny, they didn't actually reserve seats for you or book you on this flight." Ugh. I pointed out the clerk who had helped us at Northwest, and they figured it out and got us on the plane to France. Good news: "You're in business class..." bad news: "but you're not sitting together. Sorry. Maybe someone will switch seats with you." As we walked away from the counter, I almost started crying. A six-hour flight to Paris, on my honeymoon, and I may not be able to sit next to my new husband? "It'll work out," Al said, and calmed me down.

We got through security and found Mike, Kim, and Aidan waiting for us by the fountain, which was on--a first since I've been traveling through that terminal. We visted with them until it was time for us to board our plane, since their plane back to New York had also been delayed--they had a plane, but no pilot (also Northwest--see a pattern here?). Then we boarded, and let me tell you--there is nothing like business class (as far as I know, there was no "first class" on this flight--I think it was all "business") on an international flight. Big comfy chairs that recline and have foot rests, so that you can practically lay flat, and lots and lots of space for each person. But first we had to figure out seating. I was seated by the window in the fifth row (I think), which was right behind the bathroom, thus giving me extra extra leg room on top of what was already there. Al was seated directly behind me. The first person to arrive was the person seated next to me, and he refused to switch seats with Al. Big old meanie. I anxiously awaited Al's seat-mate to arrive, moping, and hoping and praying that he would agree to take my seat. The flight attendant knew of our plight and checked in on us every once in a while, wanting to make sure we could get seated together. The next man said yes! I moved to my seat next to Al and our journey began.

As soon as we were moving, I was given champaigne (Al refused it). Next thing I know, I'm being offered red wine, and how could I refuse a nice Bordeaux--especially since I was flying a French airline? I had two glasses of wine, which complemented my orange ruffy with rice pilaf (my dinner) nicely. Al watched movie after movie after movie, and I enjoyed my short trips to our business-class private bathroom, decked out with Evian facial refreshers. I might have read for a while, but they soon asked us to pull down our shades, because it was getting dark and people would like to sleep. I pulled out the nice blanket they provided, stretched out on my comfy chair, and slept/dozed for the rest of the trip. They served breakfast in the "morning"--it came very, very quickly since we lost five hours--but I wasn't hungry, so didn't really eat and don't remember what it was.

Thus ends day one of the honeymoon, of which, unfortunately, we don't have any pictures. Stay tuned for details on the honeymoon day two, coming tomorrow.

i'm married!

Two weeks ago today--in fact, at this very time of day, I married the love of my life, Alan. The day was gorgeous, and despite a snafu with the ceremony site (it was double-booked, meaning there was another wedding there and we got relegated to a small corner under some trees, thus limiting our photo opportunities), the ceremony itself was short, meaningful, enjoyable, lovely--everything I imagined. My good friend Tony was our minister, and as I walked down the "aisle" (across the lawn) with my father I saw friends and family smiling and Al tearing up as he waited for me. We both remembered all of the words to our memorized vows, and said them to each other with heartfelt love. It was--for me, at least--a dream come true (sappy, I know, but true).

A few memories I have of that day:

Getting ready at home with my friends and family surrounding me--Michelle doing my hair, Dana sitting by me while we did our makeup and she did her hair, mom and dad taking us all to breakfast at Honeytree, and having fun with the photo session when John, our photographer, arrived.

Walking down the street to the pub, where we had our reception, and having cars drive by honking with their drivers smiling, waving and obviously wishing us well.

Walking up the stairs and into the pub waiting for my brother, Ryan, to announce us, and having our friends Ethie and Log "discover" us and start yelling down to us.

Not knowing how to cut the cake.

Telling mom and dad who each of our friends were when they passed our table filling their own plates at the buffet (which worked, but I thought the buffet would be on the bar and my family would be seated right up close to the stage/head table...that's okay).

Not even noticing half the time when people were clinking the glasses asking us to kiss (wait a minute--that was for us???).

Feeling like extremely untalented dancers as our four-minute song, "Sweetest Day" by Control Freq, droned on and we just twirled around in circles.

Feeling pressured to visit everyone, but feeling like I didn't have much time with anyone, especially my new husband.

Desperately wanting people to be involved when our entertainer came on, and volunteering to sing myself when all of my friends let me down--and to a song I'd long forgotten, and then feeling like an idiot when the song kept going and I was a horrible, horrible singer.

Loving Al's courage and humor when he got pulled up on stage to sing.

Dancing with Ruthie. Having several of my male friends tell me how gorgeous my friend Ruthann is. (I know.)

Dana getting up on stage and talking to me, then singing a solo.

Dancing with Danny.

Looking at my pictures with David, then beging pulled away to have the guys sing Bon Jovi for me, with Del pointing at me the entire time. (I felt so loved.)

Stopping to look, just as Heather said I should, to try to take it all in. I don't remember what was going on at the moment, though! :)

Being so happy that Ruthie, Nikki, Dana and David got along so well that Dana hung out with them for the rest of the night.

Hoping my family members were enjoying themselves--where were my crazy, lively, dancing family members?

Being a bit disappointed (and hurt) that some of the friends I thought would be most active/involved when it came to dancing/interacting didn't seem interested in spending time celebrating with me at all. Were they mad? Feeling neglected? Just too drunk or involved in themselves to care? I don't know, but I hope I forget this feeling over time. I wanted everyone to enjoy the day, and to enjoy it with me, and it bothers me that they may not have.

Coming home and being locked out of the house, because our friends had broken in, turned all of our furniture upside down, deposited a blow-up doll in our bed, and generously locked the door leading to the garage (which we had left unlocked, and were planning on going in through). We had to go to my brother's apartment and pick up the key to get back in the house.

It was a gorgeous day, I had a handsome groom, and it was a fun, unique wedding. I loved it and, if you were there, hope you did too!

catching up

Wow. Almost a month since my last post. But I've been busy, busy, busy, so I've got an excuse.

First was finishing up school. I got about five hours of sleep in three days and then couldn't sleep very well the night before driving home (for the ENTIRE SUMMER!). I was so not interested in school anymore that I (of course) waited until the day before grades were due to submit my students' grades and didn't even check my own grades until last week. Instead, after arriving in Michigan at 3 a.m. and then got up six hours later to get ready and go to my first wedding shower. Yes, I said first, because some friends of mine decided to throw one for me too (in addition to my family shower).

The shower was nice and relaxing. No games, no structure. I wandered around talking to family members for an hour or two, then my aunt made me open her gift so she could leave and watch the Red Wings game (no kidding). I interrupted the formal gift-opening by going to the bathroom. After the shower we celebrated my brothers' and sister-in-law's birthdays (Erik - April 29, Ryan - May 9, Rachel - May 11) at La Shish, a great Arab restaurant in Dearborn, and after that all of us siblings went to Erik and Meaghan's house for a fire and to check out their new patio. By the end of the night I was exhausted.

Since then, it's been a very little bit of schoolwork (even with my major professor wanting me to call in, I'm managing to put it off as much as possible), a lot of housework (painted the bedroom, working on one bathroom), laundry whenever I want without having to pay $2.50 a load, lots of evenings in the hot tub, an evening out at Doc's and an evening out at Luna. Oh, and the second wedding shower, lots of lunches with friends/family, and a little bit of relaxing. And, of course, wedding plans.

As for the wedding plans, they're coming along. I went for my first fitting of my dress and go back again Tuesday. We met with and paid the photographer, and just yesterday we got the marriage license, bought my wedding-day jewelry, met with the baker and designed the wedding cake, and called Al's cousin (?) in Ireland to set up a time to meet with her when we're over there. What else have I done? Um, working on thank-you cards (yes, they're coming!), keeping track of who's coming to the reception, and talking with the florist (he was supposed to call again Monday or Tuesday--I'm going to have to call him back). And just trying not to forget anything.

Bottom line: I miss Dana and Steph, and I can't believe (although I know) they won't be in Iowa when I get back. It's going to hit me hard in August. But I love, love, love being back in Michigan and have a bachelorette party to look forward to tomorrow. Well, got to get back to painting. That spackle should be dry enough to sand now!

my new favorite word

I have a new favorite word. It is grrr.

Now, some of you may argue that grrr is not a word, but a sound. It definitely is the way I always tended to "say" it--as a low-throated growl like you'd hear coming from a dog. But thanks to Saj, pictured here, I now appreciate it as a word. A word that makes me laugh when I'm irritated, because Saj actually says the word like it's a word--more like it's spelled "gurr." It's the funniest thing to be irritated and complaining about something and hear a grrr come from Saj's mouth. I was just laughing about it coming up the stairs to my apartment and thought, Now that's blog-worthy.

In fact, the whole day today is blog worthy. I actually thought about writing a blog titled "research is fun!" I would have meant it, too. Of course, I have been working on getting ready for my dissertation research today instead of working on the papers that are due on Wednesday, and that makes a world of difference. I actually like thinking about and doing my wiki research, because it's interesting to me. I'm actually dreading (but probably going to do some tonight) doing the research and writing for my classes, because I'm just not interested in the topics. But after Wednesday I can forget about them, so I might as well just get them done.

It's also been a bright, sunny day in the seventies, and that makes me happy, too. It rained here for at least two days straight--I mean the pouring, flood the parks so the trees look like they're growing out of lakes kind of rain. During those days, I thought about writing a blog titled "death by drowning" and lamenting the worms that were all over the sidewalks. I only realized a month or two ago that they don't come out of their homes because they enjoy the rain and then scorch to death in the sun before they can get back in. It's the other way around--they drown in their homes--and that seems much worse to me, for some reason. And backwards.

But today's been a good day. So good, in fact, that while Dana's at work (and will perhaps meander over to my blog), I'm drinking the Blue Moon that she left in my fridge. (I owe you one!) Wishing, of course, that I had the Starbucks liqueur that I left in her fridge.

Happy Friday, everyone!

it's in! & more reception stuff...

I got a voicemail today telling me my wedding dress is in! The only problem is, I'm out here at school and can't guarantee that I'll be home until the evening of May 4 (although I'm still aiming for May 3). Since the wedding shower and my brothers' birthday celebrations are on May 5, I won't be able to go in for my fitting until Monday, May 7 at the earliest. That means mom won't be able to go with me--since I'll need alterations, I don't think it's wise to wait until the following weekend (which would leave less than a month before the wedding!). In fact, unless Julie's off during the day Monday or Tuesday or my sister ends up losing sleep (she works nights and sleeps days), I don't know if anyone will be able to go with me. That would be a big, big bummer, but you gotta do what you gotta do, right?

I also got a great question about the reception from one of my friends. She's looking for a sitter and wondered when it ends. Well, since we only have the pub for six hours, it'll end at approximately 8:30 or 9:00. Pretty early, I know, but it's going to be a very short ceremony and we'll be heading over to the pub immediately afterward (besides, most people need to work Monday). Yes, yes, yes, there will be a full meal, but it's buffet (hence the no choice rsvp card). We get a fish, a meat, and a poultry and there will be assorted sides (I'll make sure there are some good ones for vegetarians). There will also be entertainment, a bit different from traditional receptions, but you'll have to wait to find out what that is. Finally, there will be some dancing, but don't expect to get wild and crazy--Al wants to keep it nice and slow and mellow. Still, I think family + friends + us = fun, fun, fun!

Oh, and in case you're single and got an invite with your name only on it (no "and guest"), there's a reason for it, the same for the "no kids" thing: we are very limited on space, and it was either invite guests or invite you. We wanted you to be there! Still, if it's "I have to bring my new boyfriend that you don't know about or I just can't come," well...we'd probably maybe I hope be able to squeeze both of you in. The problem is, if everyone comes (which I know probably won't happen, but if) we will have exactly 120 including me and Al--the max we can have.

I am excited!!!! I am also tired since I got up at 2am to work, and probably will crash after the office and get up at 4am for tomorrow's work. Don't worry, my crazy hours are almost done for the summer. See you soon!

wine bottling

I may not have time to post my own blog about my weekend, but Dana has! She's also posted several pictures of Friday night's wine bottling/Wagon Wheel experience, which you can see here. I've stolen them, err, saved them to my computer and am posting a few of my fave shots in this very short blog. Just for some background info, we were bottling the wine that will serve as favors at my wedding--in just a few short weeks!

One thing Dana didn't blog about was the Natural Locz Dance Company's debut concert, which was Saturday night (after Union Street--not Station, as Dana blogged). Danny, the artistic director, is one of my best friends. The concert was wonderful, if you can believe a non-dancer's opinion, and afterwards he thanked just about everyone in the audience by making them stand up one by one and wave to everyone else while he talked about us. He made me cry. I'm just sorry that I was too exhausted to go to the afterglow and completely forgot to look for Marlon. Oops. See you in a couple of weeks, Danny!

Okay, have to run to get my hair cut.

gift registry

Gift registry info! For those of you that are interested, Alan and I registered for gifts yesterday at Macy's. We were also going to register at Home Depot, but it's a little hard to register for landscaping stuff (we plan to work a lot in the yard this summer).

It's so strange blogging about this--I feel like I'm begging for gifts. The fact of the matter is, I just couldn't get home to register earlier--or in time to put the info in the family shower invites. So here it is. And buy or not--the important thing to us is being able to celebrate our wedding with family and friends.

I'm a little tired and need to get up bright and early to work, so I'll blog more about my weekend later--perhaps even after May 3, the day I hope to drive home for good for the summer. Have a happy week!

tattoo number two?

So I've been toying with this idea lately (for the past month and a half) that I'd like another tattoo, probably in the form of some sort of armband. Perhaps needless to say, Al isn't really into the idea (he hates it). He doesn't want the tattoo to show at, perhaps, a wedding where I'm wearing a sleeveless dress. At least, that's what he says. He probably prefers that it never shows. Ever. Because he doesn't like tattoos. Last night, however, I got a preview of what such a tattoo might look like--especially if it was done by a very bad tattoo artist who was a bit too giggly while she was working.

Yesterday was a wonderful, procrastinatory day in which I spent way too much money, hung out with friends, and so far do not regret in the least (I'm doing my best to ward off the, "What in the world was I thinking because I couldn't afford the time or money I spent doing that" regrets that are almost inevitable in the life of a grad student). It started off the usual way for a Saturday with a workout on the elliptical machine and a Perkins breakfast with Dana. I spent much of the time bemoaning the work I needed to do. Then, as we were getting up to leave, I said, "I really want to go to New York & Company." I knew they were having a 40% off everything sale and, being one of my favorite stores, I was having a very hard time passing it up. It didn't take much for Dana to convince me that we should spend our afternoon shopping. Five hours and $250 later I had new unmentionables from Victoria's Secret, two new skirts, a tee-shirt, a purse, and a necklace from NY&Co., and two new pairs of wedding shoes (a pair of heels for the reception, flip-flops for the ceremony) from DSW Shoe Warehouse. Then, when we arrived home, I decided I wasn't possibly going to start working at 6:30 at night (it takes a while to drive to the city with a real mall--I felt like I was actually back at home in civilization while I was there), so told Dana I would pretty myself up and head on over to get an early start on our going-out plans for the evening.

I arrived at Dana's and Kate's apartment and soon everyone was there--everyone being us three and Stephanie and Scott. Sometime during the night, Dana pulled out a black Sharpie marker and decided to give Stephanie tattoos. I got one, too--an armband of viney leaves. It is bee-you-tee-ful--and still on my arm, although in all fairness I haven't tried to wash it off yet. The night was fun (well, except for the other people's party part--people whom I don't know and a party after which Kate was tired and decided to leave us) and included half a glass of ice-water being poured down my shirt, Dana losing a shoe, Stephanie finding out that she's really bad at table football, and Scott having parmesan cheese dandruff. Oh, and gyros bought from and prepared by two of my favorite students, one former and one current. Finally, a night worth writing about. I was worried that my life was getting boring!

No, my life is not boring, not all the time. I have another physical reminder of that (besides the pretty tattoo) in the form of a pulled leg muscle that runs, somehow, from my calf to my hamstring on my left leg. It's a bit painful with every step I take, and although I went to bed without the pain--and got up and wandered around a few times during the night without noticing anything--for some reason when I finally rolled out of bed at 9:30 this morning, it was there. I have no idea how I could have done something like that in my sleep, but I also know my memory cells were in no way damaged by last night's festivities. This is a mystery to me, one that I hope fades away by the time I try to work out tomorrow morning.

The end.

P.S. The pic, by the way, is of Dana and Kate, but not from last night. Don't worry. They still look pretty much the same. :)

i still...

i'm fading

all these words,
ideas,
other people's thoughts

they flood in
mercilessly assaulting that which was me

(the world is behind them
in this warpath they're on
so many fade out
fall in
declare victory
defeat
over a "non-existent" truth
they think they've found themselves)

this crowding in my head is getting tiresome
soon i'll start pushing back
they need to leave room
for me

tears of disappointment

I found out today that Al will be away from me for eight or nine days in July for training on a new printing press. He has to go somewhere on the east coast to learn how to fix the thing. This news is bitterly disappointing to me since we will be newlyweds and we'll already be spending months three through eleven (August through April) of our first year of marriage apart. It puts a damper on my anticipation about spending the summer with him. Why couldn't his company take him away after I leave to start the new school year?

venting

I'd like to take a few minutes out of my busy Thursday to vent about my feelings of inadequacy. I don't know what it is about today, but today I have felt groggy, un-energetic, and inconfident of myself, my intelligence, and my abilities to last in an academic world. Maybe it's the allergies or the fact that I've skipped two workouts this week, but I'm feeling off.

Anyway. For one of my classes, we spend most of our time workshopping the research papers and projects we're working on. I'm in a small group--three very smart, respectable guys and me--and we read each other what we've written so far and then give each other suggestions. Within this group of smart, smart people (did I mention they're smart?) I feel stupid, stupid, stupid. And like I'm on a different track than them and have different goals than them, even though we're all in the same PhD program. They asked me again today where I intend on publishing the paper that I'm working on, and honestly, I don't intend to publish this paper at all. It's just a month's worth of observations and one interview, and the "results" that will come out of it are hardly worth publishing, in my opinion. But between my group (two of whom, at least, believe everything we work on should be with the goal of publishing) and my newly-signed-on POS committee chair, I'm feeling like I'm going to have to try to publish it somewhere. That pressure is making me feel very out of place, very un-intelligent, very non-motivated in a "you don't belong here" sort of way.

So I'm discouraged. I don't see how I'm going to spin this into something that some journal somewhere would want to publish and find that journal within the next two weeks' time. That, in addition to writing the paper, doing the reading that needs to provide the theoretical background for the paper, writing up analyses of the readings for my other class (another twenty pages), and get everything extra that Dr. R wants me to do before I leave for home. And I'm desperately wanting it to be May 3rd or 4th, because on one of those two days I'll be on my way home, done with the worst of this, and be able to stay there--besides a honeymoon jaunt to Ireland--for three entire months. All I want to do is sleep. My eyes feel so heavy, and I got more than eight hours last night, so I'm pretty sure this is allergy-related lethargy. And my hair's bugging me since I decided not to shower today and it's feeling rather dirty. Okay. Only four more hours until I head home. I can do this.

Thanks for letting me vent. As if you had a choice.

forgetful

I just had the most bizarre dream. I opened the school newspaper to try to get at the crossword puzzle and things kept floating off the page at me and coming to life in my head. Comic strips were singing and dancing around. I don't even read comic strips. And it was in black and white, like the newspaper. I always dream in color. Anyway.

I forgot to blog about the funniest thing that happened to me yesterday. Rather, the funniest thing I almost did. I don't know where my head was, but I was very forgetful. Each semester, I cancel class and hold conferences with my students during one week. For the past few semesters I've been doing this when the students are working on their team projects--meeting with twelve teams is a lot easier on me than meeting with forty-six students individually. Yesterday I had to meet with three teams from each class--half of my students. I met with the teams, then proceeded to go to my office, gather my belongings, and walk to my car. I threw my stuff in the car, started the engine, and pulled open my purse to get out money and pay my parking bill. Trying to figure out how much I would need to pay, I glanced at the clock. It read 3:43, and since it's five or six minutes fast, it was actually about 3:37 or 3:38. My second class starts at 3:40. I had completely forgotten about them and was about to go home, leaving those three teams sitting around and wondering where I was.

I couldn't believe my forgetfulness. Since the parking garage is several minutes' walk from the building I teach in, I paid for my parking, drove to the parking ramp that is closest to my building, and ran out, not bothering to pay the meters (the ramp has meters; the garage has an attendant). I thought I would have to just take my chances and pay the $7.50 if I got a parking ticket. I arrived at class five minutes late. Instead of admitting my faux pas to the team I had scheduled the first meeting with, I told them, "Sorry I'm late, guys. I had to run to my car." Which wasn't completely a lie. I had run to my car, after all. I just didn't tell them I almost left them, that's all.

By the way, it's snowing. About half an inch so far. Ugh. But the weather channel said it's supposed to be sixty by next Tuesday.

april snow showers kill the flowers

A few weeks ago, the weather was beautiful. The grass turned green in a week. The flowers started blooming, and buds started growing on the trees. The nice weather, though, was just a tease. Sixties and seventies because thirties and forties again--fifty if we were lucky. And now there's a winter storm watch for my county. The rain we are getting now is supposed to turn to snow, and by tomorrow night/Thursday morning we may have four to eight inches of wet snow on the ground. Here's hoping the weather reports are drastically wrong this month. I want to see the flowers! I'm also hoping our geese don't get too cold--the goslings that were born here last year have returned and I really enjoy watching them knowing how small they were last year.

Other than the weather? I'm busy with meetings and homework and celebrations. The meetings are in preparation for the rest of my time in grad school, putting my committee together and getting my plan of study (POS) approved--that means they sign off on the classes I've taken and say I've had enough. The homework is just homework, and I'm trying to get it all done in the next two and a half weeks. And the celebrations are in honor of my friend. Last week, Stephanie defended her creative component and passed (a defense is a presentation and question/answer session, and her creative component is a project she had to complete in order to get her master's degree in addition to taking classes), so we had a celebration for her. Today, Dana defended her creative component and passed, so we're having a small celebration for her. We're combining her celebration with one for Scott, since he got his first article accepted at an academic journal. It'll just be dinner and drinks at the local Irish pub (we go all out). The posts this next two weeks will probably be sparse, so just stay tuned!

a glimpse of the future

I spent yesterday shirking my academic responsibilities and addressing envelopes for wedding invitations, which we'll mail out in two weeks. A version of this graphic plays a part in those. My invites, in case you were wondering (or will be, since you won't see them until they arrive in your mailboxes), were designed by my friend Dana. I'm sure Dana will take orders for other personalized designs if you want anything.

A few things about the invites, for those of you reading now and those of you who (I hope) read this blog in the future, once you get the invites:

• They say the wedding's in Farmington Hills. It's not. It's in Farmington. (Oops. My mistake.)
• Yes, the wedding's in a garden, which means it's outdoors and you'll be standing (not sitting) around in the grass. I plan on wearing flip flops--not heels--so that I don't sink into the ground at each step.
• The flip flops indicate a sense of informality, which I hope the invites do as well. I'm wearing a wedding dress and Al's planning on wearing a suit (let's hope he actually starts looking for it soon). You can wear what you want, as long as you're clothed.
• Yes, some walking will be involved--parking is only plentiful down by the pub (the reception site) and this will involve walking the four blocks to and from the ceremony site. You can do it. You've got two months to get in shape. And take some pics on the walk and send them to me after the wedding.
• In case of rain, check this blog. I'll post the decision whether (weather--ha!) to follow the rain plans or the let's-do-it-outdoors plans. Rain plans involve arriving at the pub at 2:30 instead of the ceremony site at 2:00. If there's rain, we'll get married in the pub.
• Yes, there is a meal at the reception, but you don't have a meal choice on the RSVP card because it's a buffet. Don't worry, they have good food. And yes, there is a full bar and no, it's not a cash bar. Al's not that cheap.
• We haven't registered yet, but plan to the week these invitations will be mailed (so if you're reading this after you received the invite, you may want to check more recent posts). The plan right now is to register at Macy's and Home Depot.

Eek! I'm getting married in two months! I'll be home for the summer in less than a month! I better stop shirking my academic responsibilities for today and start working on all that stuff I have to accomplish within the next month...