Santa, baby.

This year's wishlist:

-The Joy of Cooking/Baking
-A Le Creuset Dutch Oven (yeah right)
-Silpat
-Extra bowl for KitchenAid Artisan mixer
-BtVS season 8 comics
-A replacement power cord for my MBP
-Frye riding boots (again, yeah right)

The geeky housewife factor here is through the roof.

Maurice: an update

I've now had Maurice for over 6 months; possibly a record for me when it comes to fish-raising. As far as I can tell, he's doing pretty well. He just swims around in his tank all day, and since fish have memory spans of maybe 10 seconds, it means that every time he makes a circuit around his tank he notices his castle anew and is like "Cool! A castle!" And repeat...repeat...repeat.

The interesting thing about Maurice (well, I find it interesting) is that he's cold-blooded, and therefore is entirely dependent on the temperature of his surroundings. When my apartment is cold, he's sluggish, and when it's warmer, he's perky. There a few implications to this, but the most important one is that I'm afraid to really lower the temperature in my apartment when I'm not here, for fear that I'll return and find him a floating ice cube.

This poses some interesting dilemmas; this week I'll be traveling to the wilds of Northern Michigan for Thanksgiving with T.'s family, but since I won't be here I want to lower the temperature in my apartment so as not to waste money and energy heating rooms that no one will be in. Which means that I'll have to either leave Maurice here to freeze, or take him with me. Guess which option I'm taking here?

And the real problem will be Christmas break, because I'm not sure what I'm going to do, being gone for three weeks. I'll be flying home, so I won't be able to take him with me. But I can't leave him here by himself—he'll freeze, and starve, to death. So what should I do?

The options are:
-send him home with my Mom when she comes in a few weeks to pack up her stuff and take it back to Kansas. The problem with this is that she's killed the last 2 betta fish she's owned. While I trust him with her for just a few weeks, I can't figure out a way to get him back here when vacation is over. This might take some figuring out.

-drive home to Kansas so that he can ride in the car with me. I realize that this is absolutely insane and that I'm nuts to even momentarily entertain this idea for a pet that can't actually make eye contact with me. Really, this would be the only way for him to get to and from Kansas safely. However, I'm not quite enamored enough to drive 12 hours each way just to ensure that Maurice is comfortable.

-find a sitter. I have some friends who are rectors at the school who might be willing to let him dwell there for a little while; it'll be warm there at least (I think?) and depending on when they get back he should be OK with the no food (or I could get him some slow-feeding pellets). Or I can ask the law school staff if it's OK to let him chill at the school for a few weeks; at least there will be heat there and I wonder if they would feed him. Again, I understand that this is complete ridiculous, but I don't want him to die.

Suggestions are welcome. I'm sure you are all glad to know that I have given so much thought to the welfare of my fish, while putting off any concern for the welfare of my fed courts outline. Stay tuned for the outcome—I know you're all just riveted to your seats.

Sigh. Pudding. Remix.

Unlike the delicious little sample I practically inhaled last night, the rest of the pudding...never...set.

What happened? What went wrong? I NEED TO KNOW!


Also, this is basically how I feel about Fed Courts right now:
Habeas brainus? Please?

Sigh. Pudding.

I'm a bad person.



But it tasted sooooooo good.

Poem, before bed

I have a lot of work to do.
Ooh, "Friends"!

On the ground

There's snow on the ground. I don't remember feeling quite this enraged/frustrated last year when that happened. My cynical side must be catching up with me...that, and my cold toes.

The trends, they are a-changing

This is what I wore last winter:





And this, thanks to the generosity of a much-missed trans-Atlantic friend, is what I will be wearing this winter:




The only thing that could make this better? If I could somehow wear both at the same time. Thank you, S.! I will picture you laughing at me every time I wear this hat.

It's that time of year again

I've done some looking back in my archives, and it seems like each year, around this time, I post some sort of panicked/denial-ridden-perky post about how I need to sprint quickly and successfully through my final exams without losing my dignity or sense of personal hygiene. And I am here to say "Enough! No more pseudo-motivational phrases with snappy alliteration! No more talking about how stress is great, but success is greater! No more, I say! Let's just be honest."

I am in full-blown, 100%, all out holy-crap-I-need-to-get-my-rear-in-gear mode. And I am not ashamed to admit it! I do not deny it! Finals times SUCKS!

Whew. I feel strangely empowered now.







PS: Back to the clean slate. It was nice flirting with the girly swirl, but this is a little easier for me to look at.

What I've learned about myself

I do way better when everything is a competition. Yesterday, t. and I compiled lists of things we had to do (lists that were comparable...we made sure of that) and held a contest to see who could get the most things done by the end of the day. And while I didn't get all my things done, I "little chunked" and won. BOO. YAH.

Why stop?

If I'm going to dream, I might as well go all out.

Addiction

I was already aware of my fondness for Gucci, Dior, and Valentino.

But I never thought I was a Jimmy Choo girl, until now.

Anyone have a cool three grand to drop on these? Something tells me I won't be able to find any of these on a final clearance rack at 95% off.

Election Day

Amazing.

GOAL!

In my attempts to be a more goal-oriented, forward thinking, and proactive person, I've adopted a new system for getting through my day--a system I like to call "little chunks" (which, now that I think about it, sounds kind of gross).

My problem, usually, is that I cannot manage to get things done because I feel that the enormity of the tasks I set for myself render any steps I might be able to take negligible unless the entire thing gets done (clean apartment from top to bottom, including scrubbing baseboards with a toothbrush! read all my reading for a whole week in one day! organize all my clothes, hem three pairs of pants, and fold all t-shirts in a perfect square in an hour!).

Breaking up daily to-do lists into more manageable pieces is a time-saving task, a.k.a. life hack, that has been promulgated on the net and in various self-help books numerous times. I've tried it before. However, even when I did break up my day, I still found myself lingering over the first few tasks and eventually finding myself at dusk with a dishwasher half-loaded and a sofa covered in unfolded laundry.

Therefore, I have now found some success with breaking up the breaking up. By setting ridiculously doable standards, I find myself surpassing them: "Put away that dish" becomes "Well, I'm already putting away this dish...I might as well put away that mug, and that spoon, and that plate, and hey, let's put away all the dishes." Maybe I should call this "little little chunks"?

At any rate, it's working, and that's all that matters. So today's goals: read 4 pages of evidence. Throw away the old circular sitting on my coffee table. Put away my boots. Let's see how far these three things get me.

She's back!

My computer! Is back! And fixed! Hooray! This is a cause for celebration!

If this blog were a baby

I'd be a terrible mother. Hello, regular posting, how I've missed you.

Some updates on the past few weeks:

T. came and "surprised" me with a visit over Columbus Day weekend, which also happened to be the weekend of the Law School Fall Ball. It was so amazing to see him, and the weekend turned out to be one of the best ones ever. Thanks for driving 10 hours each way, sweetie!

I have turned into some kind of domestic whirlwind. The urge to bake comes over me so frequently that usually, the utensils from the previous cookie/cake/cupcake experiment aren't even washed yet. You know it's bad when you don't mind doing the dishes just so you can dirty them again. On the upside, I think I have managed to strengthen my relationships with all of my friends. Never underestimate the power of a chocolate chip.

School is...school. I have reached that point in the semester where I start buckling down and making all kinds of resolutions that, as usual, go half-fulfilled. This time: I've decided to regiment my TV time. This means that instead of flicking the dreaded box on for background noise and finding myself distracted by financial crisis/political scandal/Madonna's getting divorced, I will only watch television at appointed times with a purpose. Therefore, every time I pick up the remote control, I must say to myself something that involves a conceivable end: "The Hills is on at 10. I will watch until 10:30." or "90210 is on at 8. I will watch it until 9." Please, no comments on my terrible taste in television.

Finally, I've found an alternative to BtVS (still my first love, but I'll take what I can get). HBO's new series True Blood deals with similar issues (vampires living among the...living, I guess) and while it's a lot grittier and more scandalous, it still gives me that fantasy/action TV fix I've had to do without since Buffy went off the air. Thanks, l., for introducing me!

That's it for now. I've got classes to read for, things to do, cookies to bake. All in a day's work.

Quick hits

-Fall ball. We're going. Got mani/pedi today--nails look great!
-Shoes. I am both purging and stocking my shoe closet.
-Buttermilk cookies. Oh. My. Gosh. They are sooooooooo good.
-School. Crazy. Per usual.

Today, summed up

Nap from 5-8.

Topsy-turvy

My life is a mess right now. Drastic measures need to be taken. Partial lobotomy possibly the only solution.

Honesty

Really, the best policy.

My life has been in a constant state of stress lately; school, job search, life. All have been sort of an intense overload. I've been trying to cope by just taking things a step at a time, not letting myself get freaked out or feel overly pressured, but I think the time has come for me to acknowledge that something needs to be different. A good capsule example:

My apartment has been constantly messy since the beginning of the semester, when I moved back and didn't unpack all my clothes, but rather dumped them into a huge pile on the floor. It only got worse when I would do laundry and then fail to put my clothes away, instead leaving them jumbled in the basket.

While my apartment was like that, I felt assailed by an almost physical wall of frustration the second I walked through my door. Anything that was on my mind — assignments, bills, plans — would be instantly overwhelmed by MY APARTMENT! MY APARTMENT! IT IS MESSY! It became almost impossible for me to get things done.

Last night I took an affirmative step and finally organized, folded, and hung all the clothes that were making my room look like that of an 11-year old boy. I was finally honest to myself about the fact that I could no longer bear to step over piles of socks and scattered shoes on my way to my bed; that the giant piles of junk mail slowly conquering my living room were not good for my sanity; and that I needed to just suck it up (side note: this is, indeed, proper usage) and devote a whole evening to putting my life back in order.

So I did. And now I feel great about it. I'm still busy and occupied, but at least I can come home, walk in, and not feel immediately overwhelmed. A great weight has been lifted. And all because I was finally honest enough with myself to admit that I was turning into a messy, disorganized wacko and needed to make a drastic change.

Despite my best intentions

As any semi-regular reader of this blog knows, I have attempted to kick start no fewer than three fitness regimens over the last few years. All have failed. This is a little discouraging, but change is always possible (YES WE CAN!).

In the interest of starting up again (my goal being a lung capacity greater than that of a two-year old child, and possibly the ability to run more than a few blocks without wheezing like I'm going to die), I have taken a number of fitness-geared actions.

To wit: I've purchased new running shoes (now with actual cushioning for your feet, as opposed to the clearance-purchased Meijer brand shoes I was using before), joined the 2L Powderpuff team (really fun!) and vowed to go to the gym.

Problem: I have NO IDEA where the gym is. Last night I got all swanked up in my new shoes and some ratty shorts, drove to campus, got out of my car, and walked around for twenty minutes without finding it. All the while I was on the phone with two different people trying to tell me how to get there. Then I gave up and went to go watch the boys' flag football game instead.

Also, the headphones I purchased yesterday for my iPod were broken. I swear, it's like the universe is conspiring against my getting trim and toned. If that's the case, I would appreciate a clearer sign, so that I can just start mowing down the potato chips and watching endless reruns on TV, instead of fighting inevitable fate.