Wednesday, November 25, 2009

spent and overspent

Last night, after class, I stopped at Jewel for a few last minute necessities (mascara, if you must know, and cash for the cab). On the walk home I lectured myself on two things: 1) I was going to pack, shower, and go to bed by midnight at the latest. And 2) While on my fabulous vacation, I was going to keep spending to a minimum.

In terms of my first lecture, I showered, packed, and made it to bed by 12:30 a.m. Which didn't really make any sense when my alarm went off at 3:00 a.m. I managed to stay in bed until 3:27 a.m., and still meet my 4:00 a.m. cab.

As for lecture the second, I arrived in Charlotte, North Carolina at 9:30 a.m. (their time). It is now 11:43 p.m. (also their time). Since I met up with Brooke and Anna, we have been shoe shopping, gone to brunch, spent a significant amount of time at a very nice mall, hit IKEA and Trader Joe's, had sushi (so good, so worth it), and spent an hour grocery shopping.

So much for lecture number two.

But (and this is for the mother and father reading this and shaking their heads), BUT: we are staying in tomorrow, touring Charleston on Friday, hanging out in Columbia on Saturday, and I fly home Sunday. How much more damage can I do?

Don't answer that.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Friday, November 13, 2009

necessary things to know about South Carolina

The capitol and largest city is Columbia.

It was named after King Charles I.

It was one of the thirteen original colonies.

It comes between Rhode Island and South Dakota alphabetically.

The state bird is the Carolina wren. The state wild game bird is the wild turkey.

The state dog is the poodle.

Major highways include the I-20, I-26, I-77, and I-385.

The state slogan is "Smiling Faces Beautiful Places."

The most important thing to know about South Carolina: Anna and Brooke live there. And I'm going to visit them in less than two weeks.

I love South Carolina.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

confession

so. here's the thing. i am really. . . happy. happy enough that i am ignoring all capitalization tonight. throwing caution to the wind, that one.

okay. i'm happy. i know this is going to sound terrible, but it feels really weird. i haven't been happy for a long time. not like this. maybe not ever (at least since puberty).

should i be worried?

i'm trying to figure out what's changed. it's not that this week has been perfect. it's been irritating and long at times. but each day seems to end well.

monday: my professor finally let someone else read a poem. "lady lazarus" by sylvia plath. i read it; it was amazing. it just. . . "Dying / is an art, like everything else. / I do it exceptionally well. // I do it so it feels like hell. / I do it so it feels real." sorry. can't disrespect the poem. sigh.

tuesday: no class, one-on-one conferences with professor kinzie. and i hate to sound like sally fields, but she likes me, she really likes me. and my poetry, which is more important.

wednesday: dinner with barbara after institute. always fun. dinner with B, not institute. but then--here's the scary bit--i stayed up late cleaning my apartment. it's not like i never clean, but, i never clean. it's lovely. oh, and wednesday is when i found a couch on craigslist for $75. and it's a nice couch. i know, because it's now in my apt, looking all comfy and 90s.

so thursday. and i can't keep up the lowercase any longer. I finally saw Mass tonight. It's been at least five, maybe six, years since Justin introduced me to the music. And it was glorious and overwhelming and inspiring. I'm hoping it's jumpstarted something in my brain, something new. It was beautiful, but not in a pretty kind of way. I'm going to attempt a full post on it tomorrow, after I've processed.

And the company wasn't too bad either.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

under pressure

Peer pressure is a nasty little thing. It's even nastier when it comes in the guise of a bridal shower.

We could pause here to explain to all the menfolk that a bridal shower is not a bachelorette party. A bridal shower is the bachelorette's cardigan-wearing tea-party-hosting sister. Which is all we really can hope for--hours of opening Pyrex and pillows and the occasional un-risque lingerie.

Okay. It wasn't that bad. The bridal shower I went to on Saturday was actually everything a bridal shower should be: informal and friendly, featuring Diet Coke and cupcakes. And it was short. I was also excited/happy for the bride, which makes for a less-excruciating afternoon.

What was bad was the ride to and from the shower. Not so much the company, but the conversation. And not so much the conversation, but what the conversation made me do.

The company was our new second counselor's wife, who was driving, and another "single sister." (Anybody else want to throw a punch?)

The conversation almost naturally fell to dating. (Why couldn't we just talk about the cupcakes and Diet Coke?) The 2nd counselor's wife is out to marry us all off. After circling the same topics of boys-need-to-ask, girls-need-to-flirt a few times, I told a story, hoping to end the conversation. The punchline of the story was that I had told a guy I was interested in that "I don't date." (Which I don't. I am honest to a fault.) It didn't end the conversation; it accelerated it, with the full force on how I was going to correct the situation. I mentioned a possible solution: a production I was already planning on going to this weekend at NU. "What a marvelous idea!"

I put that plan in my pocket, bought my lonelygirl ticket, and went to church on Sunday fancy-free. And I was accosted. Had I talked to the boy? Had I asked him out? Could I point him out again?

So I talked to the boy. I (kind of) asked him out. I even pointed him out again. And now I have a (kind of) date on Thursday.

Next time, kids, learn from my mistake: Just say no. (Or don't say "I don't date" and then tell the 2nd counselor's wife about it.)

Wednesday, November 04, 2009

?

I taught Relief Society a few weeks ago. It was about marriage. Marriage and family. Our two favorite topics. Well, maybe your two favorite topics. Not so much in a singles ward. But I am teacher, hear me teach.

Charity and I were joking about how I could just start the lesson by saying, "My name is Editorgirl and I want to get married." So that's what I did. Only without the 'nym. And then I recruited Charity and four other girls to join me. I decided the best approach wasn't the usual "well, someday it will happen" or "I know lots of cool married people," but this crazy straightforward approach of "we want to get married and here's why." Honest, optimistic, open. Genuine.

The next Sunday the second counselor who had been sitting in on my lesson told me he had enjoyed my lesson. And that he hoped my writing was as witty and sarcastic as my lesson had been.

Honest. Open. Genuine. Sarcastic. One of these things is not like the other.

There should be a conclusion here, but I'm not sure what it is. Suggestions?
 

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