Everything you wanted to know about me over the past few weeks. Much you didn't.
Not coming along as well as one might hope although I made a startling discovery last week: if one works on one's thesis, it gets done-er. Not to say that I've actually finished the proposal yet, but I'm getting pretty close to it. It should be done by tomorrow, at least in draft. If you see me, please ask why I'm not currently working on my thesis. It's almost mid-term and this is supposed to take 3 semesters. Er.
I did it. The big step, the social faux pas: I asked a boy out on a date. Boys in the audience, please weigh in on this. Is it offensive towards your sense of gender roles? Does it take the thrill of the hunt out of dating? Then ask me first. Okay, that sounded desperate. Just because it turns out I'm not so good at the planning the date thing. The play we were going to go to is sold out. Can I convince him that an evening at the International Cinema will be as entertaining as King Lear in puppets?
I ran in my first 5k of my life homecoming week. Which is surprising, because I was on the school cross-country/track team. Part of it was sort of exorcising (while exercising!) my demons of having been the worst CC team member. Ever. Another part of it was whomping my 30-minute goal to end with a finish time of 28:36. This is all due to my sister, who on that harrowing .1 mile of the race wouldn't respond to my pleas that I couldn't keep up this pace. And then I came sprinting in. And then 10 minutes later I was running around with my nephew on my shoulders. Which makes me thing that maybe I was more made for spurts than endurance.
I was offended in several directions by the book Wicked. I didn't see how all these sweet BYU co-eds could be so excited about a musical based on it. But then I listened to the soundtrack today. In my car. Parked. For twenty minutes. It's really good music and a lot of good themes. I read in the notes that the person who wrote the script departed generously from the book, which leaves me with the question: can anyone tell me the plot?
Mark's in New York and calls. Dave's in DC and doesn't (mostly). I was up at Emily's last Sunday and had lasagna. I still haven't sent Anna a thank you card for the birthday present she emailed. My grandma asked some questions in a circle tonight when I was over there and it occurs to me that she's getting really, really old. But then again, we had just flipped through basic cable channels, so it's understood. My parents are, as usual, great. We have lunch every day at school. There's usually great conversation and good study prep for my day's class discussions and also almost always really good sandwiches and yogurts. It's super fun. But then, I'm 23 years old and my mom packs me a lunch every day.
Sarah hasn't been answering her phone. This, in my selfishness, drives me crazy. Kjerstin says she'll go on a double date with me...but not this week, which means I have to ask someone out again. We did (Kj E and I) have a nice evening (night) of watching The Devil Wears Prada and discussing art and women's roles and many, many such things. I MLAed Kristen's paper and promised this blog. Chris and Katie and I went out to a depressing French film. It was Patrick's idea, but I guess he couldn't make it. I ran into Becca in the HFAC. In economics today I heard of a study determining how people choose their friends. It's, evidently, geographic location that matters most. So why do I feel like I barely know my roommates?
I started my novel. The one I have to have done by next year. I haven't worked on in for two weeks. So, everything that applies to thesis also applies to novel. Nag me to success. (Incidentally, my novel is a murder mystery placed in a Hello-Kitty apocalyptic near-future. Those interesting in reading it, please submit a query and once I have ten-fifteen pages I'll give you the honor. But first get me up to ten-fifteen pages.)
I own a crock-pot now. And two Donavon Frankenreiter i Tune songs. And a polka-dot bedspread.
Okay, so maybe my academic endeavors, when left to myself, are in an abysmal state, but give me a dead line and, by golly, you'll give me a gold star. I had 40% of my grade detirmined in my rhetoric class last Thursday. In two weeks, I'll be up to 60%. By then, too, will be my economics midterm. It turns out that algebra, my old arch enemy, has reared again its ugly head. My one-credit is taking as long as its three-credit counterpart. But at least I can go a class period because of...
Someday, someone is going to ask me to write a book on writing. I've mentioned to a lot of people that the book with probably just be: "Read a lot. And write a lot." But there's going to be a doozy of a postscript. It'll be an expounsion on GK Chesterton's description of "how much bigger the world would be if we would become smaller in it ... you would find yourself under a freer sky, in a street full of splendid strangers." I was feeling off, testy and frustrated. Once I ranted at someone's car for not letting me turn left...into the church distribution center. I fasted ad prayed for charity and continue to pray and I begin to see some results. It's so hard to keep myself the way I ought to be, but when it becomes less about me, then it becomes more about God.