It's funny--my little sister graduates from high school in less than a month. I suppose I'll go to the ceremony and I'll see all of these teachers of hers who used to be mine. Even funnier is that my favorite teachers are the ones she started trouble with this year.
I hear that my final project for creative writing is still taking up a substantial portion of Mr William's desk. Maybe I'll stop in next week when I stay at home with the little sister and will check it out.
The mother leaves for a conference somewhere in the continental United States next week--maybe Colorado? This means I have to commute between Ann Arbor and Detroit all week. Not too bad. I'll have her phatty ride and then I can spend the days with my pooch. Tomorrow, I think I'll make an appointment for him to be bathed on either Monday or Tuesday, then we can ride in style without him stinking up the car.
Last week, I stopped through home after spending time with Sarah. It was odd because nothing looked the same and it felt so, so different. I hear they built a huge thing onto the high school, which makes me glad. It will make the whole place that much more foreign.
Last night, we went out for drinks with one of the quarterbacks here. We sat at Charley's and shared two pitchers, while I had margaritas once Kim stole my glass. There's something awful about anything other than stouts. I refuse. My liver refuses.
It's funny to think about how nice it must be to be an athlete. You can work so hard to be where you want--and people will recognize you for what you're doing at such a young age.
He'll probably stay around for another two seasons and then get drafted for somewhere. It's nice to hear people talk about something they love--to watch the way that their eyes respond to the questions you ask, or how the shape of their eyes change when they're speaking. If you watch people really carefully, you'll see how they squint a bit when they're really excited--or how their eyes will go super huge, until you're nearly afraid that they might pop out of their skull at an alarming rate.
But I was sitting there thinking that. About how fabulous it would be to have that dream so close and real. To leave college and be right in the midst of what you've always dreamt of--so tangible and definite, as long as you can stay away from injury.
I've decided that I'm going to do the MFA thing. I'll take some time off school--right now, the plan is to head to Rio sometime in mid-September. I've been speaking to a few different people and looking at all the TNs.
The GRE at the end of the summer. Until then, I'll finish up these classes, which are killing me [not because they're awful, but because I'm actually getting things out of them--retroactively]. Finish matching everyone. Study my ass off--I want a near perfect in verbal.
The dream is Iowa--as crazy as that is, right? Grad school in the middle of corn fields. Kurt Vonnegut is on the faculty--and he has a new book coming out at some point and it is nearly KILLING me that it has not come out yet. No one knows anything!
This is why I haven't been writing lately--too many disjointed thoughts that really don't say anythign that I meant to say.
I hear that my final project for creative writing is still taking up a substantial portion of Mr William's desk. Maybe I'll stop in next week when I stay at home with the little sister and will check it out.
The mother leaves for a conference somewhere in the continental United States next week--maybe Colorado? This means I have to commute between Ann Arbor and Detroit all week. Not too bad. I'll have her phatty ride and then I can spend the days with my pooch. Tomorrow, I think I'll make an appointment for him to be bathed on either Monday or Tuesday, then we can ride in style without him stinking up the car.
Last week, I stopped through home after spending time with Sarah. It was odd because nothing looked the same and it felt so, so different. I hear they built a huge thing onto the high school, which makes me glad. It will make the whole place that much more foreign.
Last night, we went out for drinks with one of the quarterbacks here. We sat at Charley's and shared two pitchers, while I had margaritas once Kim stole my glass. There's something awful about anything other than stouts. I refuse. My liver refuses.
It's funny to think about how nice it must be to be an athlete. You can work so hard to be where you want--and people will recognize you for what you're doing at such a young age.
He'll probably stay around for another two seasons and then get drafted for somewhere. It's nice to hear people talk about something they love--to watch the way that their eyes respond to the questions you ask, or how the shape of their eyes change when they're speaking. If you watch people really carefully, you'll see how they squint a bit when they're really excited--or how their eyes will go super huge, until you're nearly afraid that they might pop out of their skull at an alarming rate.
But I was sitting there thinking that. About how fabulous it would be to have that dream so close and real. To leave college and be right in the midst of what you've always dreamt of--so tangible and definite, as long as you can stay away from injury.
I've decided that I'm going to do the MFA thing. I'll take some time off school--right now, the plan is to head to Rio sometime in mid-September. I've been speaking to a few different people and looking at all the TNs.
The GRE at the end of the summer. Until then, I'll finish up these classes, which are killing me [not because they're awful, but because I'm actually getting things out of them--retroactively]. Finish matching everyone. Study my ass off--I want a near perfect in verbal.
The dream is Iowa--as crazy as that is, right? Grad school in the middle of corn fields. Kurt Vonnegut is on the faculty--and he has a new book coming out at some point and it is nearly KILLING me that it has not come out yet. No one knows anything!
This is why I haven't been writing lately--too many disjointed thoughts that really don't say anythign that I meant to say.
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