Ahem…

Literally, aheeem. My tonsils are threatening to take over my throat and have secretly tried to smother me in my sleep. It’s an all out war.  I’m equipped with hot tea, chicken broth, and Popsicles, but I have a feeling this will be a war of attrition. My supplies will only last so long, and my tonsils will remain uncomfortably lodged in my throat until I can afford to have them disintegrated.

I’ve had various ideas play out in my head. I either want one of those sucky-thingy’s from the dentist (yes, that’s the technical term) to remove all of the nasties from my throat, or I’m getting someone with a blow torch to fry these suckers off. My roommate suggested rubber bands…I’ll take the blow torch. Does the one person that follows me have any suggestions? That would be The Girl in the Cat Frame Glasses, in case you’d like to check her out.

Wait, Julia! I was only kidding! Fried tonsil pie sounds horrific.

I started this blog with the full intention of writing everyday, but I never could keep a journal as a kid, so obviously I haven’t changed much. I’m in full swing of moving, changing jobs, and coming to terms with the fact that I’m too old to “go away” to college. I’ll be taking night classes to finish my B.A. I just don’t know where, when , or how. I do know that I’m leaving my last university with a heavy heart, and a hefty loan. I have yet to pay on my loans, so I’m sitting, fingers crossed, that these wacko politicians don’t up the interest.

Is college worth it?

Slush and Brain Mush

Uggg. I just finished off a 32oz. slushie and I’m feeling like Juno right before she ralphed into Bren’s urn. Only my sputum would be white instead of blue, and there’s nothing quite as fancy to throw up in around here, unless…no.

Slushies, Slurpees, Icees, or Squishees (The Simpsons) were around way before fruit smoothies and the uber famous frappucino. They date back to before the bearded guy who parted the Red Sea and walked on water. C’mon, you know the one. The Chinese are given credit for having the first ice flavored drinks.

Nero, Rome’s bi-polar emperor who played the fiddle while his city burned, was said to have served honey and wine flavored snow  at his dinner parties, and Alexander the Great had trenches dug out specifically to collect snow, so he could add fruit juices to them. I want a trench filled with fruity snow. Delish!

Don’t believe me? Click on z-proof: http://www.slushieco.com.au/slushiefacts

I’m still staring down my one final. I believe I have at least one page of salvageable information, two perfectly written sentences, and one suitable transition sentence. Transitions are my weakness, so I’m off to a good start if I have one written already, right? Only 6-7 more to go. Transition sentences that is. I don’t want to think in pages right now.

I’ve spent most of my day completely stoked about a new job prospect. I might get hired to proof-read magazines and books, for a living!  Sure, it’s no millionaire’s wage, but it’s a quiet, laid-back, and most importantly quiet job. Who knew at 24 I would turn the radio down,instead of up,  (unless there’s a song that MUST be jammed) and prefer the sound of birds chirping to body-bewildering bass?

Anyway. I better write this paper because no matter how many times I sigh, snap my finger, or wiggle my nose, it refuses to write itself.

Now, get out of my blog, please come again!

You totally just read that in Apu’s voice, and if you didn’t, you will now.

One Final and Freaking

Yes, you read it right.

I have one final paper to write, and I’m amazed my neck hasn’t given in to the mounting pressure building in my head. This time last year I was enrolled in five classes that called for a stream of painfully long term papers, presentations, and an oral exam for my Spanish class. From what I can remember, I managed to finish them all on time and no aneurisms burst in my overworked brain.

Who am I kidding. I barely remember yesterday.

I was probably hyped up on caffeine and nicotine pacing back and forth between the kitchen table and the garage where I huffed down a pack of Marlboro’s a day. Sounds graceful, right? I know.  But since I have given up both of my “final-paper-writing-helpers,” ie coffee and cigarettes, I have resorted to other helpful tools.

Instead of actually starting said final, I have found plenty of other tasks to keep myself busy. I wonder if that’s the whole reason I started this blog?  Either way, it’s 11:23pm and I have successfully texted and Facebook messaged two old friends, fiddled with WordPress functions, accidentally jammed paper in my roommate’s printer, chased her cats away from the door, drank five glasses of water, and haven’t even opened the Word document entitled “Semester Paper.” I’m so good at procrastinating, I should get paid for it.

I’m betting there’s an  expected 69% growth in the job market for such a position.

My former classmates would scoff at my paper angst if they read this. I can hear them now. “One, ten page paper? I have a thirty-five page paper in bio-chem, a twenty minute speech about the possibility of unreported cases of botulism per capita in (insert tiny unknown country), and I have to run two-miles while reciting Francis Bacon. Backward!”

I get it! I’ve grown soft, and perhaps a little weak. But I will conquer this paper!

Tomorrow…

Mayday, Mayday!

Hello All,

As a curious cat, I just couldn’t help but wonder…why do pilots shout “Mayday! Mayday!” when going down in a blaze of not so brilliant glory? It turns out this popular distress signal has nothing to do with the month of May, but actually stems from the French word M’aidez which translates into “HELP ME!”

Hmmm. Interesting. I will try to avoid making airplane noises, neeeeer,  while clutching an imaginary steering wheel screaming, “M’aidez!” in a horrible French accent while waiting tables tonight.

No promises.

I wonder if I can find an aviator cap with the leather straps and…don’t judge me.

Today marks the day of my first blog, so I suppose it’s my blogobirthday. Get used to conjoined words and corny catchphrases if you plan on sticking around. But besides the birth of my blog into the infinite blogosphere, May 1st has its own cause for celebration.

All around the world May-poles are hoisted, fires are lit, and people come together to celebrate the rebirth of faun and flora.  Mother nature is once again in bloom, and her furry children can be seen gettin’ busy in your back-yard ,in the trees, and if you’re lucky, you’re doing the same. 

Hint. Wink.

May Day is much like Halloween. Stay with me. The veil between the worlds is thin and tonight is all about fairies, witches, and ghosts wandering freely. Whereas Halloween is about death and fright, May 1st, or Beltane, is about love and delight. It is said that the May Queen searches for a lover to lure to fairyland, and if you sit beneath a tree at dusk you may hear the hooves of her horse and the tinkling of bells. Hear that, Knights in Shining Armor, wherever you are?

So whether you consider today a sabbat, a Marian feast day, or just another Tuesday, put a little pep in your step. Look around, feel the magic. Fall in love, if only for a little while.