steamboat

I just got back from one of the best vacations of my life and how often do you get to say that?! So excuse my absence. I'm sure all 5 of you have been checking for updates ruthlessly. 

For months, Brian and I have been planning a vacation for February, which turned into a skiing vacation, which turned into a skiing vacation with 7 of his college friends. As the only non-skier in the group, I had been a little apprehensive about the whole endeavor. I'd been snowboarding one time, and it left me with bruises and tear stains, so I have been praying for months that, as everyone promised, skiing would be easier. I'd even been doing skiing-muscle-specific workouts for the last 6 weeks, which included buying rollerblades...that's right...and we now are the social outcasts in the neighborhood. Anyway, I was hoping I would at least tolerate the sport, because Brian skiied competitively in high school and it's something we both really wanted to share. But, I had no idea I'd be opening up this incredible Pandora's box. As it turns out, skiing is insanely fun and I like falling now! At one I faceplanted on a blue and was laughing so hard that I was crying as I skidded down face-first because all I could think about was how I looked like a Mrs. Potatohead losing all her parts. 

Colorado was a phenomenal backdrop for such a great trip, and it felt so natural to be there that it almost scared me (pretty sure I'm a hot-weather kind of girl?). But my mom pointed out that it's bred into me, because she and my dad both loved going there when they were younger, and my dad took me camping there in his burnt orange 70s minivan, pimped out with shag carpet, several times when I was a little kid. He had talked a lot about retiring there and had visited the Denver area last February just before he got sick, which is why we thought it would be appropriate for us to visit a year later and take some of his ashes there. We found the perfect spot on our first day, this beautiful river that went right through town but was totally secluded from people wandering by. It brought me a little more closure and made me happy to know we had taken part of him back to the place he loved most. Tears aside, it was a great start to an amazing trip, and the only bad thing to come out of Steamboat is that now I have to figure out how I'm going to afford the most expensive hobby on Earth...

when the going gets tough...FML

For the record, I'm having a very good day, what I hope and dream every Friday will be like. In fact, my day has been going so well that I wouldn't be surprised if a unicorn pranced through the door and handed me an ice cream cone. I had queso at lunch. It's sunny and 73 degrees. I just found out that I'm getting my first personal iProduct this weekend (a shuffle) for free from Lundy, and that my used-but-new-to-me Mac laptop should be ready on Monday. I only have 2 more hours left at work, if that, and I have a weekend of relaxation and whatever I want to do ahead of me. 

This website was not made for days like this. And I feel a little guilty about other people's worst days adding sprinkles to my day. Please make me feel better and take a bite out of the apple too....meet Fail Blog's unfortunate cousin, FMyLife. Quick sample:

Submitted by lonely: Today, my phone rang for the first time in four days. It was my mom. She dialed the wrong number. FML

Submitted by pointlessperson: Today, I hung out with a friend who has been too busy to hang out with me in a few months. I decided to make the day super special with fun plans and spent a lot of money doing so. When I got home, her facebook status said "Pointless day, gone to bed". FML

Submitted by nycgirl424: Today, my boyfriend of 2 years sent me a text message saying, "Don't worry I'm gonna break up with her soon. Love you." FML

See? Don't you feel better?

nice change of pace

I've taken over the front row table because no one sat next to me, but I don't care anymore because it's made room for my assault of accoutrements^*: a disappointing overvalued latte from the school cafe, half-empty bottle of tap water, calculator, finance book, 2 notebooks, pen, pencil, highlighter, list of formulas on one side, roomful of accents on the other. Nobody wants to be my partner — I am the only blonde, the youngest student, and stereotypes abound! The fluorescent lights are bright enough to photosynthesize a rainforest and by the end of the three-hour class, my eyeballs feel like they just got a Brazilian wax. When I leave, I am exhausted, confused, stressed, isolated, and...happy.

Up until now, I've been fighting my disheartenment (real word?) since transferring, because St. Edward's so far has been little more than a hemorrhage on my bank account. Sort of like I thought I was riding the Titan but then looked around and realized I was actually on the teacup ride and just barfed cotton candy onto myself. Five out of my six teachers so far have just let their students sliiiiide right through and it's taken almost no effort to do well. I know saying that is like the verbal equivalent of a fanny pack, but grad school should be all about the disonnance theory — the harder you work, the more valuable the reward, right? That being said, I'm now into my fourth semester here, I seem to have finally waded through the entry level classes, and I'm happy to see that I'm finally getting my ass kicked. 

And now...back to the books (seriously).

*Please note this is my favorite word, ever ever.