More Ephemera

I'm officially an old married woman. Today I got 2...TWO!...calls from friends who are newly married or in long term relationships. One was the standard bladder infection what to do. One was an inquiry into how to fix it when you're the one who has screwed up relationally. What a wise old fat crone I am.

Today a friend reminded me of how old I'm starting to feel. Our telephone shocked me with an electrical current. Friend asked if the phone was old. After thinking, I had to admit the phone is nearly 5 years old. It was a wedding gift. I'm no longer a newlywed. This is happy and sad all at once.

I spoke with both my father and brother today. Both of them are pretty down on life, and I don't think they even realize it. I hoped talking to each of them would help me feel reconnected to home, and encouraged that life after graduate school is somewhat more cheery and bright and enjoyable than now. But, they did not provide this for me. I guess I might have to ask that God guy to teach me about hope and joy, rather than looking to others to provide it.

Yes, I have spent most of the day on the phone. I've been catching up with friends and family. It's a smashing way to avoid writing psych reports, as well.

Parody Done Right

Watch this hilarious video where Alanis sings "My Humps" in her own version, proving how ridiculous the song is when you divorce it from its catchy melody and backbeat.

My apologies...

I apologize that my blog has degraded into little more than a chronicling of what I find amusing on the Internet and tmi moments from my life. I actually am experiencing lots of growth, change, and book learnin', so much so that I don't have the time nor energy to put it down in any coherent way.

Our apartment reflects that busyness. It's pretty evident that neither hubby nor I have the energy to do much more than flip on the TV once we make it home. We have to strive to even be able to do what we both need to in the same room, so we can have some semblance of being connected during this time. I'm very thankful that this is a season and our lives will not always be this way. I've lamented our dirty apartment enough that my mother found salvation an insufficient gift for Easter, and she sent us $50 to put toward having someone else come in and clean our apartment. She must really think our place has degraded to the point that we're kicking used needles out of our way enroute to the bathroom, and have moved the litter box to the dining room.

To quiet my anxieties during this time, I pick out small, insignificant jobs to fuss at Hubby to do so that I'll feel better. I never claimed it was healthy, but it helps. This weekend I decided that we needed to wash the slip cover to our poang chair and our curtains (thanks, IKEA!).

When I removed the slip covers, I said, "These can't be dried. So, just wash them and bring them up here to air dry."

Then I took down the curtains, and I said, "These are the same way, Hubby's Name. Don't dry the curtains either."

So hubby goes about the laundry, the one area of our domestic living that is his sole responsibility. (THANK YOU!!!) I go about my homework, and Hubby returns later with freshly dried slip covers.

"AGGHHH! You dried these."

"What? You didn't tell me not to. HOw was I supposed to know?"

"I DID tell you...and the tag, man, the tag!!"

He didn't make that mistake when he washed the curtains. Hubby made a big production about taking the wet curtains and hanging them up in our shower and on the elliptical machine (wow, that does have a use) to dry.

Today, I put the slip covers back on..and while they may have shrunk a millimeter, they fit just fine. But, the curtains...shrunk at least 6 inches and look ridiculous. Irony, irony.

Yay! Lady Vols!

The ladies of my alma mater have captured the national title. I used to dream of being a Lady Vol, practicing basketball in my driveway. Alas, that wasn't meant to be, but Pat Head Summit is still a hero of mine...7 championships! The ladies of Tennessee represent.

Arm and a Leg