Classic Bailey: Nonfiction FTW

I had the delightful pleasure of hanging with my girl Jessica today, and while we ate our Chinese food in the park I told her of my latest annoyance of people flaunting their interest (or knowledge, for that matter) of things; specifically, interests that I sometimes question the authenticity of.

For example,

Well actually I should keep my mouth shut on some of the things I listed for Jessica, but one thing we did discuss was my annoyance of people reading classic novels just to say they did. Now I shouldn't judge whether people actually care about these classics they read, but I've read several that I didn't care for, so it really makes me wonder...I mean, I read Frankenstein three times--three times!--for school and didn't like it any of those times. So if I catch someone reading such a book in public, I won't lie, I roll my eyes to myself. And wonder if really, reeeeally, that person is enjoying that book. And I usually want to slip them a copy of a book that I thought was particularly incredible, such as The Middle Place, which I suggested to Jessica today at the bookstore.

I just want people to be truly honest about their interests, because I'm sick of wading through the bullsh*t.

So now that I've shown you all my cranky, not-so-loving side, for those of you who haven't closed your browser tab and are still with me I'll tell you about some of the classics I've read (just about all of these are from high school, as I've kind of abandoned the genre since) and those that I haven't gotten around to.

The ones I read more than once because my family moved and different school districts aren't perfectly aligned in their curriculum:

A Raisin in the Sun (sophomore year, junior year)

The Catcher in the Rye (sophomore year, junior year)

Macbeth (sophomore year, senior year--are you seeing part of the reason why high school wasn't my favorite time in life?)

The one I read in high school (once) and college (twice) and refuse, unless for some reason am forced, to read again:

Frankenstein

The ones I read on my own (and loved):

Little Women

Jane Eyre

The one I read for class, and loved:

The Great Gatsby

The ones I didn't finish:

The Odyssey

Lord of the Flies

The one I almost didn't continue reading because it was so violent and graphic:

A Clockwork Orange

The one that freaked me out:

In Cold Blood

The ones I didn't necessarily "love love," but that taught me something:

Things Fall Apart

The Bluest Eye

Ellen Foster

Black Boy

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

The ones that were never assigned to me and I'm yet to get around to:

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

Wuthering Heights (I imagine I would like this one)

Pride and Prejudice (this one too)

And finally, one that I started on my own and didn't finish:

Sense and Sensibility (technically I only read about two or three pages and there were so many Sr.'s and Jr.'s that I got confused and deemed it not exactly a summer read)

The Grapes of Wrath (read a little more of this one)

So. I'm just saying. There are only three on that list that I really loved. Maybe it's just because I'm not a fiction person. Maybe it's because I'm a snob.

Or maybe it's because I'm actually on to something here. I don't mean great disrespect to the authors of these books, because obviously these books wouldn't rise to such fame without some sort of reader following, but I do have a theory that, fiction books in particular, often have to fall into the right hands of someone who a)loves the book, and b)has some influence so that people will listen to that person and then read the book themselves.

I just think there's gotta be a point where hype gets in the way of original, blind opinion. I feel like this can be more of a touchy statement for books than other forms of entertainment, but would we not say the same for certain movies? Music?

Go ahead, fight me. What do you think? What's your classic list look like? Which percentage did you love? Hate? Feel "meh" about? Am I just a jerk? Have you read some books that you think are outstanding, but feel like no one knows about them?

I mean, (and not that I'm arguing for Harry Potter here, because I'm not), but didn't Harry Potter sit on shelves unnoticed for some years? Would it be so popular if fewer people declared it to be wonderful?

Sorry to be a sourpuss, I'm just thinking here. Like I said, feel free to disagree.

Richard Mulligan--what a cutie

I wrote some headlines tonight.

Yo.

I also caught a spelling error on an Associated Press story--"sight," guys, not "site." C'mon.

Please don't read this as bragging, it's actually not that impressive. Or maybe it is, I don't know. I'm just writing about it because I need to write about something for this here blog.

Yo.

So my friend Corie's getting married this weekend, that should be funnnnn. I hope that I don't cough all night before the wedding or I might be fired as a bridesmaid (since all the girls are bunking together). I'm poppin' some amoxicillin twice a day and hopin' it kicks this nasty coughin' habit.

I'm not sure why I'm talking so gangsta right now. I must be bored.

Yo.

Anyway I will say there is one "perk" to being up super late coughing. The coughing SUCKS, don't get me wrong, but.

But!

The other night I was channel surfing, and Empty Nest--

EMPTY NEST!!!!--

came on TV!

I was soooo excited! I even commented about it on Facebook, but it was the middle of the night so no one commented in response. Or, perhaps I'm the only person amongst all my Facebook friends who ever watched that show.

I was telling Jake tonight about it and he said maybe I watched it with my parents and I told him, "I don't think so."

Seriously, I have memories of watching that show--and loving it--but I do not recall my parents watching it.

What a weirdo show for a seven or eight-year-old to watch! It's about a widowed, middle-aged pediatrician and his two 30-something daughters, his not-so-bright but charmingly Southern assistant (nurse?), and some sleazy/annoying neighbor.

Have I always been an old soul? Probably. I'm making the argument here, of course, that Empty Nest was a show not designed for the youngin's. Not that it's terribly inappropriate. It's just, well, the premise--read above.

Have I always had bad taste? NO. Because even if I was one of only so many who watched that show, I think it was quality.

Annnnd after looking up this little clip for you to enjoy below, I think I might be bonding with YouTube quite a bit in the next week or so to get refreshed on my Empty Nest. Hollerrrrr. Enjoy--you will!:

"Clean"ing

So when I have people over, I usually get the majority of my place picked up, and then shove together a little goody bag of random stuff that's lying around in a plastic shopping bag and stick it somewhere behind a chair or something.

Well a particular corner of my apartment had been growing into a little colony of these bags, so I've spent some time this evening dumping out their contents and finding homes for the stuff.

I found earrings, dishes, paper clips, receipts, lip balm, blah blah blah.

I was doing a lot of the sorting on my bed, which was stripped of its sheets, while simultaneously washing my sheets.

And then I had a bed covered in stuff, but not covered in sheets, and a girl who was over being a participant in an organizing party.

Yup, the stuff on the bed went right back on the floor (somewhat removed, distance wise, from the corner.

But the majority of the plastic bag/junk breeding ground is under control. Rest easy, friends.

Bringing the pasture to the suburbs

So perhaps you've noticed that Facebook has this thing now where in the upper right corner of the page it puts four thumbnails from two albums of one of your friends.

Well I often click on those thumbnails.

And then I comment on photos from three years ago with people in them whom, some of them, I haven't seen in more than ten years.

But that's how I roll.

Well, I was just looking at my friend Amy's pictures from her high school days (she just finished her junior year of college. I didn't go to high school with her. But I'm single, this town is deserted, and I'm to a certain degree ill, so yes I spent part of my Saturday night looking at pictures of Amy's high school biology class.).

Anyway, there are pictures on there of a cow lung, and they reminded me of some of my former classroom escapades with cow parts.

In my seventh grade science class we looked at a cow heart, I believe. However it might have been a lung.

Well I used to have quite an interest in cows (I still believe they're beautiful animals, brown bodies against landscape backgrounds; particularly jersey cows--gorgeous), and collected several stuffed cows.* Mostly they just provided a black and white decor to my middle school bedroom, but they also came in handy when my brothers and I performed our 1996 interpretation of the Nativity for our parents, in which a lot of Holsteins came to visit the stable that was our foyer.

I also made these things--yes, there was more than one--called "Cow scrapbooks," in which I adhered catalog pictures of cow figurines, Got milk? ads, and Far Side cartoons depicting bovines to construction paper with rubber cement. I then hole punched them, numbered the pages, and placed them in binders.

I would spend hours doing this (I had friends. I believe it was my quirkiness that drew people to me. Or else they were just curious about my strange habits).

I still have them.

Anyway. My seventh grade science teacher took note of my...interest...and let me assist her with the cow heart. Or lung. Whatever it was. I had someone document the moment photographically. Just like Amy. :)

Then down the road to college, during my second-to-last semester I was taking a psychology class called "Sensation and Perception." AWEsome class, taught by a man who would soon be deemed my all-time favorite professor (who I saw last week at Ri Fri's graduation, but that's beside the point). The class was very biology based; we learned fascinating things about gaining sight after blindness, musk's effect on men vs. women, umami (not to be confused with unagi).

Well I was also in the lab portion of that class, and one night during the lecture portion Dr. Rowland mentioned that we were going to be dissecting cow eyes later during lab.

I thought he was being sarcastic.

He wasn't. We really dissected cow eyes that night. But I didn't actually believe him until he brought them out with the scalpels.

And then I learned about the optic nerve and the aqueous humor.

*Sometime during or after college I got rid of the majority of them, and I recall hugging them all, one giant mass shoved in a cardboard box.

Bird Dreams

Just about 50 pages left in my bird book, yo.

And, right on time--meaning, um, late evening--the dry hacking cough is making its entrance back into my life. In the morning we do mucus expulsion (I know, gross), during the day we have a weak, raspy voice, and at night, the dry hacking cough.

What exactly I've got I have no idea. Even the doc gave me a prescription for an antibiotic and told me to fill it if I get worse or not exactly better, but otherwise it's just a souvenir for my wallet. I'm still deciphering whether I'm worse or N.E.B. Two days ago I had a super sore/stiff neck, and that was gone yesterday so in some ways I'm feeling better?

Well last night I met the cough with a popsicle and a humidifier, and I slept quite soundly, so I'm hoping for a similar result tonight.

I've also been telling myself I need to go to bed earlier than I have been, and while I thought, "Oh well I can get into bed earlier, and considering the fact that my body isn't used to falling asleep earlier I can just bide my time with books instead of sitting in front of the TV for hours which we all know keeps you up for approximately twice as long, because whereas reading tends to lull you to sleep TV seems to keep you wired." (With a run-on sentence thought like that, is it any wonder I don't get to bed early?)

But here's the issue:

If I mark midnight as a reasonable time to get in bed, well...

...Craig Ferguson doesn't end until 12:30. And my TV's not within view of my bed.

:(

What's a coughing girl with the horrible sleep pattern of a teenager to do?

(I'll probably watch all of Craig...)

Google search suggests I make a (whisky free) hot toddy

Coughing, coughing, not my friend.

Screw trying to make this poem rhyme,

Coughs, you're making me mad!

:/

Sorry, upstairs neighbors, for the incessant dry hacking.

Know-it-some

You know how some people just know a whole bunch of stuff?

Granted, I think my/our perception of the prevalence of such persons is perhaps a little swayed by such TV characters as Rory Gilmore and Sheldon Cooper, but there are still some sponge minds out there. And I mean sponge as in they absorb and retain tons of detailed info, not that they are only as intelligent as a sea sponge.

Well sometimes I want to be one of those people who knows a bunch of stuff.

But then I sit and watch hours of TV.

Granted, if you've seen the film "Wordplay" (and you SHOULD; it's sooo good), and/or are a crossword puzzler yourself, then you might know that in order to conquer such (diagonally symmetrical*) squares you need to know pop culture in addition to your general smarts.

So my point is that my knowledge of Khloe Kardashian's possible infertility, Luke Danes' curly haired photographer ex-girlfriend Rachel, Ross Gellar's air purifier, and the disco ball that is a recent addition to Craig Ferguson's desk is not exactly molding me into a bookish know-it-all, but it is taking care of that ridiculous knowledge circuit of the brain. There is one of those, right? Let's ask Rory (never mind that I have a degree in Psychology).

*Yep, learned that from the film. Now you're intrigued, aren't ya? Go watch it! So interesting and funny!

I like it when my friends exhibit a need for supervision equal to that of my own

So far my track record for my 27th year is less than entirely impressive.

I am ill. Boo.

I mean, I guess my idea of spending a week and a half sleeping 'til noon (or later) most days, drinking beer most nights, wearing heels one of those nights, watching lots of movies and TV, eating ice cream, pie, cake, and um, a celery stick that whoops, I didn't even finish*...

...maybe not the best equation for health.

I also ate some bananas, a thing of yogurt, and a BLT (lettuce! tomato! bacon...) and a BT (yeah, I lost the lettuce on sandwich number two)...

Okay so not a lot of big news here. Bailey's not acting healthy, surprise. Never mind that my 25-year-old self was running approximately five days a week.

I had a point. I really did. I thought I did.

Oh yeah! I was gonna tell you guys about my awesome friend Caleb.

He's a dancer in LA so I hardly ever get to see him anymore, but I got to see him yesterday on my birthday, and it was a TREAT with a capital T, R, E, A, annnd T.

Our visit was brief, but I'll take what I can get when it comes to this adorable, amazingly kind person, and during our time together he told us that as a child he used to eat

glitter.

As you can imagine, this piece of information lit up my birthday with extra joy. Kind of like some actual glitter could have done too, had someone thrown a handful of it into the living room air where we were laughing about Caleb's childhood antics.

He told us how his throat used to get so dry from eating it.

Oh my goodness, I love him so much, I can hardly write this without wanting him to just keep talking about it.

My mom came in the room after he had made this confession that, being so unabashed, makes "confession" not the correct term, and I immediately announced to her,

"Caleb used to eat glitter!"

Mom, who plays the introvert part well but occasionally surprises people with a zinger of a talent such as her fantastic billiards or bowling skills, or

THE ABILITY TO TWIRL FIRE BATONS!,**

replied instantly: "I used to eat paper" and kept walking.

I used to eat glue, but I think 85% of us did, and why's it even worth mentioning since Caleb was so much cooler and went straight for the glitter?

*Commitment issues?

**Yeah, no big deal. She birthed me.

Back to school

I don't want to get in my car in nine hours and drive west.

I also need to find the key to my apartment before I do.

Big sigh.

Thanks to everyone who helped me celebrate my b-day, both today and earlier this week!

Big hugs to all of you,

B

Movin' on up

It's after midnight.

I'm officially 26.

Gettin' up there in those years, am I.

I'm entering another year with my Diblets, and I believe I will graduate before I turn 27. Right now? I should probably get some shut eye...

Oh look at that. I have blisters from my high heels.

What does a bachelorette party posse do to exercise safety first?

Well first we take cabs.

And when the weather is threatening tornadoes?

We move to the basement of the bar to dance.

Duh.

Congrats, Corie and Cyle! Love, Me.

Bailey, what are you doing this summer? Copy editing, and...

So I'm a pretty big ball of nerves right now concerning my summer ahead.

It's a combo of feeling like I'm not getting enough of a break from school, considering I'll be, you know, taking a class, and feeling alternately that on my days off I'll have too much time to let my mind wander (basically my number one summer fear. Otherwise I mostly welcome the sunshine and its vitamin D).

So I just got back from watching a so-bad-it's-good movie (The Retrievers, with Betty White as Mrs. Krisper! I'm just glad none of the film's several dogs were named Bailey) with Mike and Nate and was lying in bed with Mom telling her about my anxiety--a common pastime.

She asked me if there was anything in my summer I'm looking forward to.

I told her that I think my copy desk schedule will be thinning out in August, offering me some relief and freedom to travel home or perhaps elsewhere.

I think this was the first thing I told her. It might have been the second, but I think it was the first because I think I was stalling from what I probably actually wanted to blurt out as my honest first reaction to what I'm looking forward to this summer.

Ice cream cones? Nah. Swimming? Yes, although I'm not sure I'm gonna have the awesome instant access to a pool as I had last summer (thanks, Mike).

What I told Mom I'm looking forward to?

Birdwatching. I check the local Audubon Society's website quite often for field trips, and I want to make my attendance at them a reality this summer.

Yes. This is how I plan to attempt to maintain my sanity this summer. With nature. With (hopefully) older companions--adorable I imagine, ideally chatting with me over coffee, post birding. And with the birdies themselves, who I am--in large part thanks to Mr. Obmascik's book--starting to notice everywhere now. On fence posts along stretches of highway in Illinois and Missouri, under bridges, in a neighbor's yard. Winged creatures who travel thousands of miles each year. Fascinating, awesome creations.

By the way, this documentary is incredible:

Midday summer show

When I was a kid, my Mom made M&M Halloween costumes for the whole family one year.

Eventually they became items in a garage sale.

And Patrick and Riley got a little last minute enjoyment out of them.

Riley, who was probably eight or nine at the time, put on the three smaller M's (originally his, mine, and Patrick's) and Pat, around 15 or 16, put on the three bigger ones (Kelly's, Mom's, and Dad's), layering them one on top of the other, smallest closest to the body, biggest on top.

And then they sumo-wrestled in the living room.

I remember them taking their stances before each mini-match, and making grunting noises. Then running at each other full force, bumping branded stomachs.

I also remember Riley, who is thin now and was smaller then, falling backward on the floor, over and over, protected by his multicolored safety vests from any sort of major bodily damage.

I recall all of us laughing each time, and then the boys would reset for another round. Left foot. Right foot.

I'm not sure how long the show lasted, but it was one of the better ones I've seen in my time.

"Hi!"

Look who's learning to talk...! Think she'll be a chatterbox like her auntie? She does strike me as an extrovert. Just sayin'.

Was so cool to be there for this moment this weekend.

Six bound treats

Bailey got books today.

Yaaay, library.

Memoirs, memoirs, memoirs! I've got books about birdwatching, losing a job, writing, living in Jerusalem, being a doctor to U.S. presidents, and coming of age as a Native American.

Who's excited?

Meeeeee.

I don't care if you don't want to hear about my cat again, he and I are in need of some TLC

I think it's safe to say Dibby and I are both in a state of renewal now that we are back together again.

The last week I was on campus I was meeting with my research posse for long stretches of time, so I was really only at home with the cat at night, and sleeping for much of that. Then we had an awful drive home--

would have been NICE TO KNOW that it is common for cats to foam at the mouth when they're given Benadryl. Cat was miserable and his mama cried and was PRETTY SCARED!!!--

and then after only one night at Mom and Dad's--during which Dibby Pie was just trying to adjust to solid ground and a normal amount of saliva in his mouth again--I had to leave him the next morning to go celebrate Niecy Pie's birthday and Riley and Caitlin's graduation.

Worse, he was left with two other cats, to whom I doubt he'll ever warm up--it doesn't seem to be on his bucket list.

Now he is "belly-up" on the floor and I am so happy to have him nearby again. This weekend was full of good family time, which is precious and priceless and I definitely wanted to be there, but I haven't missed my cat quite like I did this weekend in a while.

Meranda! What are you doing in the lavatory!?

I can be such an awkward weirdo creep.

I was in the bathroom at Riley and Caitlin's graduation today (congrats, ya smartie pants!!) and there was this girl in there with a graduation gown on, drying her hands, and I thought,

(per Facebook pictures)

"She looks like Meranda."

Meranda being one of Riley and Caitlin's friends who I've communicated with via feisty blog posts and Facebook videos (I insulted a video about a bean bag chair, it wasn't received well...).

Then I noted a stethoscope around her neck* and thought even more so this might be the Meranda (who studied nursing) whom I didn't think I'd ever met in person before today.

So as she was walking out I touched her arm--

of course, duh--

and said, "Are you Meranda?"

She was. (Still is.) I got a hug out of the deal, so ya know.

See ya next month, lady bird, at the wedding o' fun! Wanna coordinate outfits?

*Adorable fashion choice, by the way. This just makes me want to coordinate wedding outfits with M all the more, as I trust her to make more adorable choices which I am--ahem--not so much noted for in the fashion world. Wait. I'm not noted in the fashion world period. Except maybe as a "DON'T" in Glamour.

Pumpkin XO

I miss my cat.......... :( So I'm posting a video of him. Look at those eyes, I love him! See you in two days, baby!

Almost officially technically done with year one of J-School (still some loose ends to tie...)

Annnnd here is blog post #2: this one being the actual May 13th post.

Gotta jet because I'm in Riley's room and I'm being kicked out.

Also it's after 2 a.m. and I've been grading papers and tests and inputing grades and thank you very much but I will gladly take a break from you Mr. Computer Screen.

Smooches, y'all. Night night.

--B

I've missed you.

Yo Ho!

Sorry for the tardiness, but I TRIED to blog earlier, I really did! Blogger was down, and then I was on a car ride today. So hellooooo!

I'm staying at my brother's apartment and one of his friends just said, "Oh, you guys do look like siblings."

Yup.

(I'm gonna post two posts to make up for the loss of a post. This counts as the post for Thursday the 12th.)

Practice one's calling

Cleaned the apartment today. Not fully, but it's in much better shape. Consequently I am in better mental shape (not perfect, but much better than I was about 24 hours ago).

Just did a bunch of grading. Not done, but closer to the finish line.

Looking. Forward. To. Sleep.

Dibby says "Feed me." He's on the arm of the love seat meowing at seemingly perfectly spaced intervals. He's so smart, that little pumpkin. Now I must lavish kisses upon him. Excuse me.

Oh yeah. And I need to start writing again. Like for real writing. Bailey thoughts. Longer essays. I think I'll feel better if I do--practice what I feel is my calling. Even if I don't feel like I hear loud requests from scores of people right now to do so. I can't make myself published overnight, I can't snap a finger and become a national sensation, but I can write. After all, I don't want to get rusty.

Sad girl :(

Guys,

I'm gonna be honest with you. This is not how I expected to feel at the end of my first year of journalism school. I mean I don't know that I thought about how I'd feel specifically, but I don't think I expected this.

My self-esteem is kind of in the toilet. I feel like the continual cycle of stress is strangling my playful demeanor. People around me are getting internships and I'm going to spend my summer raking articles for misplaced commas and hanging participles. I don't even know if there is a hanging participle in that last sentence, because I don't even know what those are.

That doesn't help my self-esteem. I don't even have the excessive grammar knowledge going for me.

I have to turn in the grades for my students Friday, and my summer class starts 11 days later. I will spend four of the next 13 days on a car trip. I'm even harboring the stress of my cat, who will have to accompany me on two of those car trips, and he hates the car.

I don't want such a downer post to frighten you guys, but I aim to be honest with my writing. So there you have it. At this moment in time, 1:02a.m., CST, May 11, 2011, I don't feel like an accomplished journalist or writer. I hope that a year from now I can feel the opposite.

I think I made the right decision in coming here, I just thought the ride would be a little more fun.

I know it's not about me, but MAN is it hard not to want better circumstances in this jealous, vulnerable human skin we wear.

Fooooooooood

To my knowledge, tonight was the first time I ever ate Wheaties.

Okay, wait. I ate Wheaties FUEL, which I think is different than straight up W's.

Um, delicious!!

My good pals Elaine and Dale and their awesome kids got them for me in July! as a send-off present for grad school, and yes, I just opened the box tonight. For a while I think I forgot about cereal...even though I used to eat it a lot. I guess grad school can do weird things like that to you.

Anyway, quite delighted. Go pick up a box. Unless you're allergic to wheat, then do not.

Smooches. I am exhausted.

Love,

Bailz

Being up later than you want to be = Yuck

Guys.

I've been sitting here grading tests and I think that had I guessed I would not have thought it was even after 1 a.m. I cannot believe it's almost 2 a.m.!!!!

This is disgusting.

Next week I plan to sleep a lot.

Love this book!

WHOA WHOA WHOA.

I was just gonna get on here to tell you guys about this book that I'm reading--

and LOVING--

and I googled it to pull up the link to Amazon so you could go check it out and the first thing that came up in the search was a MOVIE! based on the book that is

NOT YET RELEASED but

TO COME!

ANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNND!!!!!!!!

First person listed on the cast list?!?!?!?!!?!?

JIM PARSONS!!!!!!!

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Oh, by the way, the book is called The Big Year by Mark Obmascik. It's. Awesome. Obmascik doesn't write arrogantly, the three men he writes about are all so intriguing and endearing--sometimes surprisingly so. The book is about birdwatching, which is something I really want to do. There's just something about this book: it's sweet, it's interesting, it keeps you wondering about the lives and personalities of these men, and you just want to keep reading.

And that last little characteristic there is one I haven't found to be true of a book I've come across in a long, long time. Maybe (actually, quite probably) that has something to do with how cranky I've been lately.

Now that I think about it I'm actually not sure I want to see a movie version of it, but how could I turn down a flick about birdwatching with Jim Parsons? I mean. Come. On.

Oh and Steve Martin's gonna be in this show? Done--I'm guessing which part he's gonna play, and I'm betting on Al Levantin, the cheery man from Colorado. Ope check it out: I was right.

Smooches. Night, night, Friends.

Ugh. I'm kind of so negative it's annoying.

This past week: survival during the test and paper showdown of 2011. Tears. Some laughter (particularly at Rosie's Real Housewives impression during research class--um, that was awesome, and I will be asking her to do it again). Life analysis--you know, just more so than usual. Beers with Deniz tonight.

Saturday: Well, participation in a research study. What, do you think my semester is over or something? But also: time with Mary Lou (whose name is Mary but not Mary Lou) and swimming with Deniz!

Next week: work on group paper. Grade papers. Grade tests. Take Dibbs on a car ride (shh, don't tell him). Go for a car ride with M & D. During car ride (not the one in which I will be driving the whole way)? Probably grading tests.

Yeeeeeeeeeeehaw!

Let it out, peeps

I love this commercial:



And I also really like this one (the Brit version). But I think the first one's my fave:

Votes! Which one's your fave?!

$1 bottle of nail polish

I don't like myself at the end of a semester.

There are several other times during which I don't like myself (including sometimes when I say "during which"--gross), but let's just focus on this.

I am irritable, extra sensitive, not good at being happy for others, not efficient with my time.

So in other words characteristics that I have much of the rest of the time, just amplified. Beach time and being told how beautiful I am usually decrease some or most of these; hint if you're looking for a birthday present for me or a conversation starter.

The nice thing about isolating myself at home more often to "work on papers" is that there is extra Dibby cuddle time. On Monday I was in bed for several hours typing and Dibby was right there next to me. Currently we're smashed together on the love seat. You know why? Because we're in looooooove:

Sweater: Maurice's, jeans: Old Navy, nail polish: H&M (courtesy of* Nick)

*Note: courtesy here indicates a previously unused gift given, not a loan

Over and out. Emiliana, you're up.

I'm lettin' YouTube do the work today. Well it's the medium. Emiliana's doing the work, providing delish tunes. Thanks, Lady:

Who invited Research?

So uh...yeah. Wish me luck on this exam "tomorrow" (today).

T-minus 10 hours, almost.

I think I'm gonna try and sleep now, then get up bright and early--or not so bright and not so early, but still somewhat early and maybe mildly bright* after some java--to get back to some final time with the t-tests and chi squares.

Dear spring semester,

Have I told you lately that I'm really not a big fan of you, and I'd like to hit the reset button after you're gone and hope that my writing and general knowledge improve while my sourpuss mood will hopefully dissipate?

With angst,

D.Bailey

*Or, as is often the case with java following little sleep, chatter box chatter box chatter box Bailey (it fades as the day wears on, and turns to exhaustion and grumps and occasionally, tears).

Eavesdropping

I'm trying (not very hard) to study for my research exam on Tuesday, and aside from the fact that my eyes are glazing over at all the technical terms, I'm finding it quite difficult not to listen in on the conversation occurring approximately two feet from me here at the 'Bucks.

There are two women, and at first I thought maybe they were in nursing, but it seems they might be surgeons.

And they are complaaaaining.

Not that I don't complain about my field, my program, my research tests...

I guess it's best they get the bitching out of their system here at Starbucks, prior to operating.

In other news, this is the DB's 600th post. No big deal.

:)!