liza bean
I may be the umpteenth person to mention my mother's new computer but I must. My dad got my Mom the Mac OS X (Panther), and, as all good gifts given to me ma, it has become the Mitchell Family's most faught over item of the week. We've snipped, snapped, but have not yet slapped, over this masterpiece. Sign up sheets were theorized but let's face it, it's much more fun to try to sneak a half hour with the panther while distracting the 13 other people who want some play time with fudge and butterscotch rice crispies. I began my relationships with computers with a Mac and I have found my way back home. Anya and I have spent many a late hour this past week making a movie and then turning our precious baby into a real stick-it-into-the-DVD-player DVD. That's right, the panther burns DVDs. I'm in heaven! Now on to create my very own song: Ode to the Panther.
Brent's been working a lot lately. And it's been the night audit shift. When I was still insanely busy with school there were times when it felt like we were sharing the apartment, in shifts. I'd come home at 9:00, 9:30pm and Brent would leave at 10:45pm; I'd leave the house at 7:30 am, right when Brent was coming in the door. Often, after a quick hello, he would remark , "Wow, we sure have a lot of blankets on the bed!". Little does he realize that I enjoy fluffying up his side of the bed when he is gone, makes me feel a little more secure at night. That way, if a bad person enters our apartment or if the monster living under our bed creeps out from the shadows, then at least I can confuse 'em a little and maybe scare them off with the illusion of two people and not just scaredy-cat Liza. Oh crap, now my imagination has begun to take over. There is no way I will be collecting our ninth load of laundry from the basement tonight. Really, I am in my mid-twenties. You'd never know from the content on my blog, nor my looks...if we really must go there.
A story I meant to tell long ago, as it happened at the airport over Thanksgiving:
"You were selected, Miss." (The day someone actually addresses me as Ma'm I might just have to give them hug!) Now initially, when I heard the word "selected" I thought, "YES, I've won some sort of prize"....but then I very quickly remembered where I was. So then ensued the ever pleasurable pat-down and raiding of my purse with the very brisk and grouchy security lady. As Ms. BG poked around in my bag, and fiddled with my memory thing-a-ma-bob (UB port, memory stick??), I came to the horrifying realization of a potential 'weapon' hidden away in the back pocket of my purse. Mentally I panicked. "Should I say something?" I wondered. When she came to the pocket, she gave me a cold stare and said quietly, "Well, this wasn't very easy to find". And then she pulled out a screwdriver. "You cannot take this on the airplane."
"Oh yeah, yeah, you can confiscate that, I know, I know, just take it. I can't believe I forgot that was in there".
So then she took it away and let me go as I very silently thought to myself, "Funny thing is, this is my RETURN flight!"
Sunday always does this to me. The reality of how soon those exams are coming starts to sink in and I am reminded of how very little I understand of statistics and hyperkinetic dysarthria. Must stop freaking out..right..NOW.
Is anyone here anymore? I do not blame you if you are gone. Honeys, I've been so gone it's not even funny. Every night I go to bed thinking, "Wowzers (I really do say that to myself!) Liza, you need to prioritize your life! Keep in touch with your friends and family. Seriously, hon, you're being such a horrible sister/friend." Yeah, welcome to the inner workings of this crazy mind. I had to just laugh a few nights ago when, after working a 12 hour day at school, I was still beating myself up for NOT working on my paper in the remaining few hours of my evening (which, I just finished, HELL YEAH!) Okay, so I just finished perhaps the worst paper I have ever written but I refuse to do more than check it over for typo/grammar errors 'cause I'm done with it. D-U-N. In about 70 hours I will be finished with my 4th semester of grad school- whoo-hoo!
Another moment of exitement: Today KT (with immense help from Martha)threw my sister a wedding shower. It was a secret and when Katie arrived she was totally and entirely surpised. She even started to cry which made me start to cry because I felt like she got a sense of just how much people care about her. Or maybe she was just crying from relief to see that no one gave her a fat chocolate lab that barks when babies are sleeping. Who knows!
Anyway, back to the guilt factor. Being this busy at first makes me feel entirely selfish. Do I pick up a phone to call anyone? Nope, I'm too exhausted. Do I send little thoughtful gifts to people near and far? The thought is there frequently but the actions remain to be seen. But then when I think about it more I'm like, "Man, that's wack!" Although I do need a more balanced lifestyle of work, play, and service, the fact is I have to do work, work, work in order to finish this program SOON. And finishing this program is a top priority. I'm ready for the challenges of the real work world! Bring it on, Carle, bring it on. (Carle's a local hospital that I just got an internship with!) I guess I'm just a little nervous that I may become a permanent workaholic. And that's not a balanced life. Ho, hum. Those are my current ponderings. Suggestions would be most appreciated!