Friday Five – Fridays

Things I’m Sick and Tired of Doing With my Friday Nights

5. Studying

4. Thinking about studying

3. Pretending to be studying

2. Declining night out invitations in favor of studying

1. Feeling guilty about not studying

Random Thoughts After My First Day of Graduate School

I’m such a better student now than I was as an undergrad. I looked around during class today and saw people (mostly younger than me), surfing the internet, texting their girlfriends, doodling in their notebooks. Never occurred to me to do any of these. I was a rabid doodler as an undergrad; my class notes were barely decipherable amongst all the doodles. But I didn’t make one doodle today. I can’t conceive of the idea of NOT paying attention, of NOT hanging on every single word the professor is saying. It’s unfathomable to me. I want to hit these people upside the head. But I won’t. I’ll just do everything better than them.

Up until twenty minutes ago, I was the hairiest person I’ve ever met in my life. I came back from the casino (more on that in a moment) and, eager to rid my body of Eau de Cigarette before bedtime, hopped in the shower. Whilst thoroughly washing myself, I noticed something disturbing. (No, really, if you’re weak-stomached, stop here). My armpit hair was so long it was CURLY. I’m talking, think Richard Simmons’ fro. Yeah. I had Buckwheat in a Headlock. You’ve never seen a fat girl dive for a razor so fast in your life. Then I wondered what that implied for the rest of my body. I ran a hand over my legs and actually involuntarily let loose with Lesil’s patented Yeti mating call. It was bad. It was a two-razor event. So, Panda, Jenn – your job for the next two years is to remind me at least once a week to take ten minutes away from schoolwork and do a personal hygiene check.

So, casino. Today after classes let out (9:00 am – 4:30 pm, and we got out half an hour early), all I wanted to do was UN-EFFING-WIND. Having contacted my two trusted hanging-out buddies and finding them otherwise engaged, I decided to strike out on my own. Which means, of course, a trip to the casino. I was so pumped, emotionally, by how great class went, that I decided to actually get dressed up (which means clean blue jeans and nice sweater, earrings, makeup, and heels), and go out. I was amazed. So many guys (ranging in ages from 21-over 60) stopped to talk to me, flirted with me, smiled at me from across the room, opened doors for me, gave me Blackjack tips, etc. The trend continued when I stopped at the grocery for some late-night popcorn and Big Red (the soft drink, not the gum, all you non-Kentuckiana-residers). I felt like a woman for the first time in a very, very long while. I lost $90, but I had so much fun, it was so worth it. The Blackjack table I was at was very spirited, very friendly people, very lively, and we all played together for over two hours before I was out of money and it was time to go.

So now I’m home with my loving, lovely kitten resting peacefully on the table next to me while I type. I’m all clean and hairless, relaxed but energized about the future, and ready to watch the Redbox movie I rented today and just enjoy being young and alive. Life is finally good again.

See you in 2010

So, school hasn’t even STARTED, and already I haven’t checked my email in two days, my Celtic woman on Human-Age is probably dead because I haven’t fed her in almost a week, I have no idea what movies are starting this weekend, and I haven’t found time to do laundry all week.

Update – Just checked my Celtic woman and she wasn’t doing well. More worrisome, my wolf, Remus is not happy puppy. His health is at 44% and he’s thinking of leaving me and going back to the forest. For whatever reason, this makes me truly sad and troubled. I feel completely guilty for not having been taking care of this nonexistent virtual wolf.

I have, however, taken over twelve pages of notes (front and back) over the chapters that were assigned on the syllabus for my data analysis class, and started reading the chapter that’s assigned in Strategic Analysis.

Fancy is seriously pissed about me spending so much time with my nose in a book instead of crammed up her ass. I know this because she peed on my backpack. I still snuggle with her during naps and at bedtime, and I took a timeout from my reading today to play with the magic red light. Then I went to pack up all my books and. . . drip. . . drip. . . drip.

This leads me to another thing on which I’ve been procrastinating: updating Fancy’s story here. Promise I’ll do that tomorrow.