Uhhhh...what? or Am I normal?

It's Lent, and as a result I've started looking my habits, both good and bad, in order to try and figure out what will be the most healthy thing for me to do. While I don't really believe in "giving something up" for Lent, I don't think it's ever a bad thing to try and improve yourself with a purpose in mind. Lent often makes it easier because it has a definite end date, so you sort of trick yourself into thinking that the good habits won't stick (but they usually do).

Some of my (bad) habits:
--hitting the snooze button a minimum of 3 times
--taking clothes out of the closet, trying them on, and throwing them on the bed instead of hanging them back up
--leaving DVDs and CDs out of their cases, such that I can never find what I'm looking for

This morning, especially, my snooze habit amazed me a little. I know I do it just because it feels so wicked and delicious to snuggle back into the warm covers after launching myself across the room at the alarm clock. But today was particularly bad. A brief description of my morning from 6:46 to 7:14—

6:46—my first alarm goes off. I don't remember getting out of bed to hit the snooze but I must have.
6:53—my second alarm goes off. I get out of bed and hit the snooze. My alarm clock has 2 alarms which you can stagger to your liking. I do this KNOWING that in 5 minutes the other alarm will go off again.
6:58—first alarm goes off again. I get out of bed, hit the snooze, and return.
7:01—T. calls me to wake me up. I mutter something about two more minutes with my face squished into the pillow.
7:02—I rouse myself enough to SET MY PHONE ALARM for 7:04. I lay back down and close my eyes. Why I thought 2 minutes was a good idea is beyond me. It gets better, though.
7:04—phone alarm goes off. I set it again for 7:07.
7:05—the second alarm goes off (my snooze is only 12 minutes). I get out of bed, hit the snooze, and then go back to bed.
7:07—phone alarm goes off. I turn it off.
7:10—the first alarm goes off again. I stagger out of bed, turn it off, return to the bed where I lie for a few minutes before mentally flagellating at the realization that I have spent more time in the last 15 minutes getting up and turning stuff off than having my eyes closed, uncomfortable with the idea that I've actually gone to absurd lengths for what amounts to approximately 4.5 minutes of extra sleep.
7:14—I get up and hop in the shower. I have class at 8.


Is this normal? For reals. I have no idea whether or not my insanely convoluted and difficult morning routine is just a typical thing, or whether I am exhibiting symptoms of some profound and rare sleep disorder.

As a final note, I had considered giving up the snooze button for Lent. As you can tell, I rejected that idea pretty darn quick.

Overheard in Lafun:

Girl #1: What's the capital of Washington?
Girl #2: Uhhh...uhhhh...Helena!
Girl #1: Helena?
Girl #2: Wait, no. Helena is...
Girl #1: Tacoma!
Girl #2: Helena?
Guy: Olympia
Girl #2: Olympia?
Girl #1: Olympia? Olympia! How did you know that?
Girl #2: So what's Helena? Ah! Montana!


Round of applause, folks!

Clarification: I wouldn't really care about this at all had it been a simple conversation between friends. However, it happened to be a simple conversation between friends from across a crowded room. As in, shouting. The rule is: if you're going to be loud, we're going to make fun of you.

Percy: It's complicated

Percy has an unusual habit that Maurice did not: he likes to go into the castle (and I mean, really go into the castle) and squeeze himself up into the hollow body. Maurice, too, enjoyed the castle, but he used to just lie in it with his head and tail sticking out. Percy folds himself up to such a degree that I'll often look into the tank and panic because I can't see him anywhere.

I'm not really sure what to do with this. On one hand, I'm glad he likes his tank and castle. On the other, I'm a little worried that something is wrong with him; Maurice was very lethargic in the latter days of his life and I'm concerned that Percy might follow in those footsteps (finsteps? tail sweeps? whatever).

Getting used to the habits of a new fish is an interesting endeavor. I won't really be comfortable with this little routine of Percy's until a month or so goes by and I'm reassured that he is, in fact, just chilling (rather than, you know, slowly wasting away to a sad and lonely death).

And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming

Big news (like getting engaged) is a rarity in my life. Instead, I usually blog about the mundane trivialities — how I'm planning for the 30th time to organize my apartment (it's going to happen, I swear!), what delicious but calorie-laden baked good I've recently produced, the weather, etc. Clearly, I know what the public wants. And I deliver. Case in point, this M&M:






It's attached! A mutant M&M!

I have a weird thing for funny shaped foods. Once, in college, I discovered a heart-shaped potato chip which I saved in a little plastic container. My roommate Ruth, on a cleaning frenzy, thought that it was an empty container and washed it. She realized a little late that my special chip was inside — despite her valiant attempts to dry it out in the oven, it was never the same and we had to throw it away. This story, to me, demonstrates 2 things: one, that I'm really odd and two, that Ruth loves me. A lot. Enough to indulge my whims and do things like try to salvage a heart-shaped potato chip.

Not sure yet if I'm going to save this. I've already photographed it so it's been preserved for posterity. We'll see how this goes.

At last, a bullet point

--I'm engaged.

I'm really excited and happy. It couldn't have been any more romantic — T. took me to the top of the Hancock building in Chicago and proposed overlooking the city at night. It was wonderful. Even a number of minor snafus (forgot to pack my outfit for Saturday, couldn't find my camera charger so had to use a low-quality disposable, etc.) couldn't dampen the trip.

Did I mention it was Valentine's day? Because it was. And Chicago on Valentine's day will always be special because of it.

Besos

life is not that busy, but really busy right now. I guess I'm spending a lot of time doing a whole lot of nothing, which is good for my stress level but bad for my productivity. A few things of note:

--Monday night tennis lessons have turned out to be really fun and one of the few things I look forward to each week. If I can keep it up I might be able to hit more than 3 shots in a row.

--


--



Wow. My life is really boring. I can't even muster up enough news for more than one bullet point. If you have only one bullet point, what's the point of even bullet pointing?

I'm thinking in circles here. Maybe I should stop procrastinating and just do my reading.

The crumbs of life

So between the baking, the baking, and the still more baking, life has rolled on. T. comes to visit in less than 2 weeks and I am so! excited! Percy is doing well, just chilling in his tank, and my apartment is gradually sliding out of the canyon of despair (a.k.a. piles of clothes and books).

In a conscious effort to declutter my life I've started trying to maintain a neater and more organized apartment in the hope that it will lead to a neater and more organized mind. Can't tell you much about the latter, but at least the former has had a positive effect on my life. It feels pretty good to come home, look around, and be serene because my surroundings are serene.

I've also tried to get a jumpstart on the two papers I have to write this semester. i figure that if I can manage to get them done earlier I'll have more time to study for exams. Come on, productivity! You know you can do it!

Having said that, it might be time for a nap.

Confirmation of my absolute insanity

Stayed up until 3:30 baking and frosting these bad boys:







I'm a little shocked at how ambitious this project was, but really proud of how they turned out. Even though some of the cardinals do look a little...blobby. And the blue on the Steeler stars isn't as dark as it should be.

Please welcome

Percival Pasquale Daubert.

A.k.a., Percy.

I got him yesterday. He seems to be adapting to his new home fairly well and has even taken up Maurice's old habit of chilling in the castle. He looks very different from Maurice, which is good — as a blue/purple fish he even coordinates well with his bowl. Who knew fish could be so fashionable?

Houston, we have a problem

Let's see if I remember anything from algebra/geometry/whatever math uses proofs:

--Sleeping in + 2 hour nap = not sleepy
--Not sleepy + procrastination = baking
--Baking + new cookie cutters - not enough counter space + creative use of washer and dryer = roll-out sugar cookies
--Roll-out sugar cookies + they look naked = frosting
--Frosting + 1.5 hours - 2 cookies bravely lost in combat - 1 cookie sampled by the baker = 50 frosted sugar cookies

Therefore:

Sleeping in = 50 frosted sugar cookies


Something tells me that my math is a little off, but in the twisted logic that is my brain, this makes complete sense. Ah, the joys of the semester's early weeks...plenty of time later to feel guilty about all the hours of possible productivity I've wasted.

But look how pretty!

Wednesday morning coffee

Not much has happened in my life since my last post—the bad day adventure chronicled actually continued, if you can believe it. Since I don't feel like reliving the moments spent sobbing on the highway in bumper-to-bumper traffic because I had missed my exit and was about to run of gas, I'll move on to bigger and better things. Like...finishing my note (relief) and the terrible, terrible weather, and lemon bars. Which I baked on Sunday and which Tom and I inhaled. They were delicious...so lemony and tart.

Next: angel food cake w/ berry sauce.

Pretty much the crappiest 24 hours I've had in a long time

If this comes across as whining, that's because it is. If you can complain to the internets it minimizes complaining in real life. This is actually true.

Things that happened
-woke up yesterday with sore throat, slight cough (sure signs of being sick)
-my fish died
-it was butt-freezing cold
-came home at 2 in the morning to discover that my hot water pipes had frozen in the kitchen
-My cable and internet are disabled, probably from the cold
-maintenance arrives at 4:30 to check it out — I have waited a long stinking time for them to show up
-maintenance informs me that my pipe has burst. He shuts off my hot water so I can't take a shower or wash my face without contracting frostbite.
-I get approximately 2 hours of sleep. The weather is such that every moron on the road drives approximately .007 miles per hour. I am exactly 1 minute late to my 8 o'clock class and the door is locked.
-I check Tom's flight status online. His flight into Detroit is delayed. His flight to South Bend will be leaving without him most likely, unless it is also delayed. The next flight is at noon.

Good things have happened too, but they aren't exactly counter-balancing the total suckage of the last day or so. Ugh. When it rains it pours — my bad days are always REALLY REALLY BAD days.

I write this from Lula's cafe while nursing hot chocolate, capped with a staggering froth of whipped cream. I have given up on this week.

Requiem for Maurice

Maurice has died. For the last day or so he had been really lethargic, lying on the bottom of his tank, with alternate bouts of spastic activity when I tried to prod him into action. I'm not sure what it was caused by — he had been relatively normal. My only conclusion is that during my prolonged absence he was so weak from hunger that he succumbed to an infection, and that is how he died. Today, I came home from school and he was dead.

I'm sorry, Maurice, that I left you for so long and didn't take good enough care of you. But you had a great life and you were a great pet while you lasted. Enjoy your time in fish heaven — I hope you have many castles to swim in and around.

I'm not sure if I'll get another fish, considering the difficult logistics of vacations and whatnot that I hadn't considered before. I did like having Maurice around though, so I guess we'll see.

The Curious Case of Maurice Murphy

I return home and Maurice, who ended up staying at my apartment (alone! for three weeks!) after all due to slight technical difficulties in fish transfer, is alive. Or is he? This Maurice is smaller and less flamboyant of tail than the Maurice I remember. Not to mention the characteristic white streak in this fin is gone.

Suspicious. I have a few theories. First, and most absurd, is that the maintenance staff noticed that he was dead and replaced him with a similar looking fish. Second, Maurice "thinned out" due to his lack of diet and company and his new appearance is such a result. Third, I'm losing it. This is highly possible.

Clearly, I was a better writer

Found this while going through our interminable boxes full of old crap. Punctuation and capitalization copied verbatim.

The bag full of rocks.

Once there was a little ghost who had a bag. but what was in it? Try to guess. how about a rock? close. how about rocks. Right.


I think I was probably about five or six when I wrote that. Gotta say it's better than anything I've written lately. What happened to that prodigy? How about law school. Right.

2008 recap

On second thought, let's not do this, because 2008 turned out to be a surprisingly disappointing year. Let's hear it for 2009! Actually, according to the Chinese zodiac 2009 is supposed to be a good year for me because it is the year of my sign (the Ox). On that note:

Goals for 2009 if I were an ox:
-plow an extra acre of field a day
-keep hooves clean
-be productive enough to stay skinny and therefore, less desirable as food

And now, real goals for 2009:
-stay happy
-stay healthy
-become a lean, mean, ambition driven machine. With plenty of room for squishy doggies, snuggles, and nights spent exercising my dancing queen muscles.

The last few weeks

Highlights, of course with commentary:

Christmas: incredibly low key, accompanied by one f.a.n.t.a.s.t.i.c. steak dinner. Holy toledo, that was good. We did not open Christmas presents on Christmas eve, as is usual in this family. Instead we waited for the NJ contingent to arrive on Christmas day and opened presents then. Some highlights: assorted tart pans, measuring cups (silicon collapsible AND porcelain DUCK!), lotions, clothes, and hopefully (when I get back), one very large TV.

Sister's Sweet Sixteen: Lucky ran away during the party. Tom found him. Twenty something sixteen year olds bopping along to club music in the basement and a DJ who also did digital sketches. She got a car. And she does not even have her learner's permit. I'll just leave this one at that. Oh, and she also got Rock Band and a PS3. Which is AWESOME and really fun. I like the singing because it is the easiest, clearly.

Family vacay: played untold hours of online Tetris and watched movies in the new, shiny, incredibly spacious home theatre. Did not get enough sleep.

New Year's Eve: family all left during the day. Spent a few hours cleaning up the whirlwind mess. Then collapsed and slept for a zillion hours straight.

And the last few days: some more low key stuff. Nothing to report. Which is exactly how I like it.

The busiest time of year

All I wanted was to be able to sleep for, oh, 20 hours or so. Instead, since arriving home on Sunday night, this is what I have done:
-vacuumed and dusted this entire house, top to bottom
-spent 3 hrs at Sam's Club, shopping for Christmas dinner and my sister's party
-picked up a Tom from the airport (YAY! one of the only good parts so far)
-put together a solid wood freaking gigantic table and 8 chairs to go with it
-put up and decorated a TWELVE. FOOT. TALL. Christmas tree.
-hung curtains, shower curtains, placed pictures
-ordered party favors, planned menus, decorated.

I have barely had a moment to myself except for eating, sleeping, and a late night screening of Mamma Mia last night in the as-yet-unfinished theatre. Please, let things calm down. I'm looking forward to a quiet Christmas and New Year.

Hear that sound? That's the universe, laughing at me.

Why?

I can tell you where to get these shoes for $2.50 — any Chinese variety store. I have no idea what is going on here, but somewhere in Southeast Asia a bunch of pajama wearing grandparents suddenly became very fashionable.

Minneapolis: surprisingly cold, hospitable OR At least I got a blog post out of it

So I haven't posted in a long time...I guess I'll use the seven hours of spare time I have in the Minneapolis/St. Paul International Airport to update my life. Readers who are aware, feel free to skip the garbled mumbo-jumbo below. I haven't removed my contacts since Friday, so I also cannot vouch for the spelling or grammatical accuracy of this entry. Forewarned!

Behold: the travel saga, abridged in bullet form. All times are estimated, but close to accurate and NOT exaggerated. Believe me. This is the best I could do while looking at the NWA flight schedules and comparing them to the call log from my cell phone.

-4:56: Flight scheduled to leave South Bend
-5:15: Flight arrives in South Bend
-5:21: Board flight in South Bend
-5:30: Everyone on board in South Bend.
-5:45: Everyone still on board in South Bend.
-5:55: Everyone still on board in...you guessed it, South Bend.
-6:00: Six people are taken off our plane. It is too heavy. Apparently the agent thought it'd be a better idea to burn 3 hrs of fuel to lighten the weight instead of removing 6 passengers who were last minute bookings from other airlines. Pilot disagreed. Argument ensued. Pilot wins after forty five minutes.
-6:15: Cargo dudes finally find the departees' luggage and close the door. We chill for a little while for no apparent reason.
-7:15: Wheels up! YES. [Note: if you look on the NWA site it says that we left at 6:12 and arrived at 7:51. This is false because it does not take 1.5 hours to fly from South Bend to Detroit. What they really mean is that we moved away from the gate at 6:12].
-7:51: Arrive Detroit. Connection from Detroit to Minneapolis was scheduled for 7:12. I assume I didn't make it. I assume wrong, because it is delayed.
-8:40: Flight from Detroit to Minneapolis scheduled to depart.
-9:35: Flight from Minneapolis to Wichita departs...without me.
-9:50: Flight from Detroit to Minneapolis actually departs.
-11:08: Arrive Minneapolis.

This is followed by a blur of waiting in lines of hundreds of people, news that the next flight to Wichita that they can guarantee me isn't until MONDAY (but standby for a Sunday flight is available), a late night shuttle trip to a hotel in Eagan, Minnesota, the realization that I have eaten nothing but a bowl of cereal at noon and have therefore consumed no food for over 13 hours, the realization that nothing is open here in South Fargo and my hotel has no room service, the quiet and desperate inhalation of a single granola bar, five hours of fitful sleep, and a trip back to the airport at 11:30 to wait for the standby flight. And apparently, the longest run-on sentence in the history of blogging. Ever.

It was (and is) also -26 here. The first time I was struck in the face by that wind, I think I broke out in cold blisters immediately. The people here are obviously made of hardy Scandinavian peasant stock, whereas my folk come from the land of 100+ degrees and 80% humidity. Clearly, I was built for this.


And then...THEN! Success!!!!!!

I am booked on a flight to Kansas City tonight at 7:05. KC is about 3 hrs from my house but at this point, I just want to get home before Christmas. Parental units will be arriving to pick me up, hopefully with food in tow. I will sleep for 48 hours straight and, with any luck, wake to find that if nothing else this ordeal has caused me to lose two pounds. Score.