I took my first practice half-exam today (18 questions in 2 hours). I was tired, had a headache, was forgetting shit right and left. And through all that, I still got 50% of the questions right. That pass mark on this test is usually about 60%, and about 30-40% of people who take each sitting pass.
I have two weeks to go, and a lot of formulas to memorize, but it's in my grasp. The questions I got wrong, most of them I knew what needed to be done, but couldn't remember the formulas or the details. That's easy enough to brush up on in the next two weeks.
I have a dance performance on Friday, that will involve about 4-5 hours sitting around back stage. I will be sitting around with my flash cards, and I think it will be a huge shot in the arm for me, since 4 hours of memorization will do me a lot of good.
Breathe.
I got my bottle of Baku earlier this week. I've been wearing it to bed every night to try to slow down my racing mind. When I track down my scotch tape, I'm going to move it to a roller ball, to keep by the bed.
Still Breathing.
I'm PMS-ing. I have had a couple of little smudges in my panties today, but it really hasn't gotten started yet.
I have a seriously bitchy headache. My skull feels brittle. I feel like the right side of my brain is swolen. I tried to study for a couple of hours then gave up. I'm drinking strawberry chocolate iced tea and waiting for the advil to kick in.
This is my first summer using cloth pads, and I was a little afraid it would be hot to have flannel in my panties. I am pleasantly surprised. Yeah they're a little warm, but not *nearly* as hot as disposables. Also, forgive the TMI, but I am somewhat prone to getting a sweaty crotch... since the wings that wrap around are absorbant flannel as well, I don't get clammy around my upper thighs.
Rusty is out at the Drinking Liberally social tonight. Honestly, I'm kinda glad he's out of the house. I like the alone time. I'm feeling cranky and antisocial.
To feed my antisocialness, I'm watching Top Chef. Mmm. Snarky.
I'm doing a bunch of laundry. I just cleaned up my nails. I'm getting a lot done tonight. I should get up and put in another load.
I feel kinda bitchy. I didn't like what my boy made for dinner tonight. And he made a huge wok full. It was this weird mish-mash of stir fry, with tofu, over rice noodles. That part was fine. But it was drenched in this insane sauce made of a mix of all sorts of bits from the fridge and pantry. He really likes mixed up cacophanies of flavor... I don't. And this was a mix of barbecue sauce, and 2 or 3 different chinese and thai sauces. I felt bad for telling him I didn't like it and making something else, but I just couldn't eat it.
After yesterday's rant, I went for the bpal this morning... I was reminded how much I love Stardust. And I don't even *like* florals. It makes me so happy. I haven't worn BPAL to bed for a long time either, I need to pull out something yummy tonight.
Do you guys have any idea how hard it is to take pictures of your own hands? Excuse the fact that I'm tossing in a ton of pictures but no one picture really captures it.
A close up of the ring on my finger:
A close up of the ring with the ring I wear on my left middle finger (It's a bonzai tree, it was a gift from my dad):
A little less close-up:
In context with the other ring and my watch:
The amazing glow in the saphire:
I've been on the forum forever. Like, I joined when it wasn't even bpal.org yet. I have a double-digit member number, and what looks like a ton of posts, but when you spread it out over how long I've been here... Anyway, the forum has gotten huge, and I don't feel like I connect very much anymore. I feel like the bulk of the community (at least the people talking) are students or artists, or whatever. And my spreadsheet-jockey, buisiness-casual lifestyle really doesn't fit in.
And the funny thing is, I feel like I used to. Certainly the community has opened up to wholeheartedly embrace all kinds of people, but every thread that bashes private colleges or higher education just turns my stomach. Every thread that dumps on people essentially for having disposable income and then, gasp, spending it! Maybe I'm just being over-sensitive, but I'm not taking away from anyone else by being successful, and the pattern of every time lifestyle/socioeconomic class/income/etc comes up in a thread, the undercurrent is that is is somehow inherently immoral to be well off just irritates the crap out of me. I work hard, have a valuable skill, and made some good choices. I earned my good life.
I did not grow up rich. I did not grow up priveledged. We moved to the US when I was a little kid, My dad was a professor at a state college, and my mom was a post-doc. But they worked hard, and I learned a lot about what it takes to "make it."
I am not evil. I am envionmentally conscious. I drive a fairly fuel-efficient car, and live close to work so I won't have a crazy commute. I grow vegetables on my balcony. I believe in universal access to health care, and education. I believe in having a social safety net. But I also believe that once you give everyone the same opportunity for success, that's it. People deserve the same opportunities, they don't deserve the same outcomes. Your life is what you make of it. My life is what I made of it too.
I don't know what brought this on... Certainly not a specific thread recently... I guess I'm just feeling like I like it a lot better over here on the blog side where the community is a lot smaller, and we're all following each other's lives in a personal way. Over here, I don't feel reduced to a cartoon yuppie. I don't feel like a freak for my "egg brain" I don't feel like I'm making anyone else feel bad about themselves over here, either. Grr.
I put in an offer on a townhouse yesterday.
Holy crap, this attaching an album to an entry thing is *cool*. Only it seems to only have 9 out of my 11 pictures, and it doesn't include the captions. See the full gallery for more details.
Anyway, check out the pictures. It's an end unit, so I only have a neighbor on one side, and there's no neighbors to the back, just a stand of trees and way back behind those is the fitness center. I ran out of charge on my camera before I got pictures of the bedrooms, but there's really nothing exciting about those.
It's hot a new heating/ac system (with a digital thermostat! so I'll be able to program it to heat when I'm nome and not when I'm not and stuff) and I'll have a full-on laundry room in the basement, where I can have a normal, not stacked washer and dryer. I'm excited.
And this is the development it's in: Chesterfield Village Townhomes
he exam is on wednesday. I am barreling full speed ahead towards it. Today I am at work (8 hours of distraction intended to save my sanity.) Tommorrow I'm home studying all day.
Overthe weekend, I spent each morning taking a 4 hour timed practice exam (Last May's test saturday morning, and last November's on sunday) Then the afternoons/evenings were spent working problems in areas I was weak on. Tonight, I will be doing more of the same. Tommorrow is the last all-day push to make sure I have firmly memorized everything that needs memorization. No theory, just drilling myself over and over on all of the equations.
So yeah, I am barreling headlong towards burnout. It's a race against the clock at this point. I am already looking up chiropracters to make an apointment for next week to try and undo some of the damage from spending 2 months hunched over a desk. This morning, I woke up with such a pain in my neck that I had to pick my perfume this morning that wouldn't conflict with the smell of the IcyHot I had rubbed into the entier back of my neck and shoulders. I went with Lick It. It definately smoother out the sharpness of the menthol in the IcyHot. There's a layering combination you don't hear about often.
And my parents are coming into town on Friday. The apartment is in shambles, so wednesday after the exam, I will be cleaning like *mad*. Actually, I suspect it won't be that bad. I'm planning on getting a handful of big rubbermaid containers to pack up with winter clothing, spare bedding, etc. and put on the top shelves in the closets. I don't think the problem is so much mess as this apartment has kinda crappy closets, so storage has been a problem. Once I organize that, I think the rest of it will just be vacuuming, laundry and a little thoughtful aranging. Which isn't nothing, but it's not insurmountable.
Rusty was supposed to be cleaning house this weekend, but #1) his standards of what constitutes "clean" are a lot lower than mine, and #2) he hasn't developed that skill of breaking down big tasks into smaller, manageable components, so to him it *does* seem insurmountable. It's irritating, but I've pretty much given up on the idea that he will ever wake up in the morning with a burning desire to keep the house clean and organized.
I'll be putting off planting the balcony garden until the weekend, since there won't be time for both cleaning and planting on wednesday.
So this is what burnout looks like : mild panic, physical pain, and distracting myself in daydreams of cleaning house. Wow - so miserable, yet so banal.
I love my boyfriend, he is super-super-smart, but sometimes I think he's a little too quick with the paranoia.
Someone recently tipped him off to the dangers of fluoride. This person apparently convinced him that you consume enough fluoride in drinking 8 glasses of water a day to cause measurable harm to the body. I've heard this before too, and after reading up on the topic, I am confident in my point of view that that is a load of crap.
Yes, flouride in large doses can hurt you - so can water or alcohol. Here's the solution: Don't eat your toothpaste.
But, that's not what prompted me to write this. The thing is, he's all concerned about 1ppm of fluoride in the water, but he *smokes*. If he's concerned about ingesting toxins, maybe he'd like to have a little chat with his lungs. I'm sure they'd be happy to stop getting coated in tar, and dosed with carbon monoxide.
Me, personally, if I had to pick just one substance added to things we food and drink that poses the biggest, baddest health risk? It wouldn't be fluoride (which totally would not be in the top 10, probably not even the top 100), it would be high fructose corn syrup. That is some nasty shit.
First of all, I'm only including a handful of the pictures I took last weekend, since most of them look just like the week before.
But... I visited my parents last weekend, and while I was there, I grabbed leaves off of my mom's christmas cactus and jade plant. I've got them outside right now since it's hot out, and it hasn't been raining.
The christmas cactus leaf:
The Jade leaves:
And a side shot of one of the beautiful pots I found for them on an obscure shelf at Lowes:
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And now, on to this week!
First of all, the bounty we harvested today! The bowl is full of red ripe tomatoes.
A rose bud is opening right now:
The most spectacular thing this weekend, though was the moonflower that finally bloomed this weekend! It smells beautiful
Here it is this afternoon before it opened:
And here are three shots of it this evening after it opened: Unfortunately, my camera doesn't really do well with close ups in the dark.
In just over 4 hours, I will be a home owner!
The scay part is getting the enormous cashier's check. I've been just staring at my bank account balance all weekend, all of my down payment money is in there, and I've never had so much money all at once.
I'm going to own a house! I'm so excited!
I'm omitting pictures of my Strawberries, herbs, and the experimental tomato - they all look pretty much the same as they did last week. (The experimental tomato plant actually has a couple of teeny tiny tomatoes forming under spent blossoms)
So, without further ado...
Check out my tomato!!!! Right now, it's about the size of a large blueberry. I have a couple of other really tiny ones starting to form elsewhere as well.
The plant itself is turning into a one-plant jungle:
We had a big thunderstorm over the weekend, and the Habanero took off! Two buds are open now, I'm really looking forward to having real home-grown peppers.
My Morning Glories/Moonflowers have started actually making vines. I will be making a twine treliss for them this weekend, as soon as I'm sure where on the balcony I want them to grow.
And finally, I rescued an aloe from Lowes this weekend. It was the only one they had, there was barely any soil in the pot, the poor thing was just rattling around in the pot. It did, however, look essentially healthy, so I had to bring it home. I trimmed two of the leaves, the bent one in the front, so it would have a clean cut to heal, and the one directly in the back, because it had a lot of dark spots.
Anyway, I took it to work on Monday. I read up on re-potting aloes, and consequently, I haven't actually watered it yet so that the roots can heal from being disturbed before getting wet. I'm going to try and hold off until monday before watering it, but it's hard, because I really want to baby it.
Oh my god, I had my first fresh tomatoes today, and they were *divine*. Nothing at all like store-bought. This will be a wonderful summer.
So, I re-potted the experimental tomato (I felt so bad for it). The pot is actually plastic, and is nice and light. Oddly enough, the little tomato started ripening right after I re-potted the plant. This little tomato was about 2/3 of an inch across:
Here's the plant in it's little pot:
The big tomato also had a tomato ripen. (I was out of town all weekend, and ofcourse they started ripening as soon as I wasn't there to see it) Here's the tomato on the plant:
Here it is on a little saucer: It's just over an inch across.
Here's the whole brutish plant. The roses need to be deadheaded. Also, check out the dragon guarding my little garden (I got him on clearance at Target today)
My pepper plant is still very bushy, and *dripping* in peppers:
I'm thinking or naming my strawberry plants, "The Rapunzels":
Finally, I think I have my very first morning glory/moonflower bud! I don't actually know which.
My boyfriend is very involved in politics right now, so we seem to be going to multiple events every week. Last night, we went to a meet-and-greet for two candidates, a woman running for the state Senate, and a man running for the Federal House. (My boyfriend is working quite actively on the guy's campaign)
My sweetie is *extremely* progressive. We don't always see eye-to-eye, but we are always respectful of each other's views, and we take the time to understand each other's positions.
As for my own beliefs, I'm a little disillusioned, kinda cynical, and am a strong believer in financial accountability, personal privacy, plain dealing, and giving everyone an equal opportunity - though what they do with it is their own business. 40 years ago, I may have been called a republican, but now, I just don't believe there is a place on the political spectrum for me, though I stick with the democrats, since the current republicans don't share my stance on *anything* (*grumble*grumble*fiscal mismanagement*grumble*insane war*grumble*intruding on my personal life*grumble*lying SOBs*grumble*grumble*)
Let me preface my story by saying that the event was early in the evening, so I didn't change after work. I was wearing an ankle-length black velvet skirt, a button down shirt, and high heels.
There was another lady there, who was wering a hat covered in progressive pins, and who was putting off a very activist vibe. (Which is fine, it's her right... But personally, I find wearing advertising, whether commercial or political, a little tacky. I am not a billboard.) I didn't think any less of her, after all I'm living in sin with a guy who is hanging out way to the Left of me politically. But anyway, she didn't seem to like the look of me.
Anyway, in the course of conversation she lets loose with the statement that we should never have electronic voting machines because she doesn't want the democratic process to be ar the mercy of energy companies. I'm thinking, fat lot of good paper ballots do you if the lights are out! So I respond with mentioning that that could easily be adressed by requiring polling places only be set up in buildings that have generators (since the polling places are usually schools, community centers, and government buildings, it's fair to say a lot of them already have generators anyway) She looked at me like I had sprouted tentacles for even accepting the idea of electronic voting machines.
I am of the opinion that the current electronic voting machine technology is a travesty. But this is America, and people like things that are shiny, new, and space-age. So we have to accept that they will continue to exist, and push legislation that requires a paper trail, verifiable security measures, and publicly auditable code. Honestly, if we took the requirements Nevada sets on slot machines and made the same requirements on voting machines, we'd be 90% of the way there.
Well, that only made it worse! I was clearly mocking democracy by comparing voting machines to slot machines!
She then railed on about how the requirements that I was talking about were never going to happen, and I was living in a dream world of woulda-coulda-shoulda. But *she* was only concerned with reality. And reality to her, was that because the voting machines available now were criminal, and paper works just fine, that the correct answer is to ban electronic voting machines, and go back to paper. Now who is in a dream world of woulda-coulda-shoulda? You can't put the shaving cream back in the can. Electronic voting is out there, people have bought into it, and I don't see any chance of it being abandoned wholesale across the country. Maybe we didn't need it, but we've got it, so as Tim Gunn says, we have to make it work.
So, in the course of this discussion, she is squirming in her seat like she wants to scoot as far away from me as possible, throwing up her hands and exclaiming over and over again how she just can't talk to someone like me, and that I'm just impossible, and that introducing electronic voting machies was just like starting the Iraq war, and whatever. By the end of the conversation, I might as well have been Richard Nixon and Cthuhlu's love child.
This has caused me no end of amusement.
The whole drive home I was asking Rusty how he likes dating an evil republican baby-eater.
I had to grab a picture of the masterpiece I've got painted on my big toes. The picture doesn't capture it well, but the nails are a really rich, slightly sparkly red (though they were out of I'm Not Really a Waitress!), the flower petals are white, the center of the flower is coral, there's a rhinestone in the center, then the flower has some littel accents in blue, and there's silver glitter along the little swoopy thing.
And just because I'm vain, a better shot of my pretty manicure:
I watched "Say Anything" again tonight. (for like the 1000th time)
I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that.
I'm a brain. Unfortunately, *not* trapped in the body of a game show hostess.
My boyfriend basically shares Lloyd's worldview. He's not into the whole buy/sell/process worldview. He doen't have a degree, and although he has a good job in computers, I don't think he's figured out what he wants to do when he grows up.
Plenty of aquaintances have questioned what the hell the two of us are doing together. He makes me laugh. He's sweet to me. He's the kind of guy who would point out glass for me walk around. I spent about 11 or 12 hours studying today. He brought me a warm lunch, and warm dinner. He's been cleaning the apartment. He makes the whole house run while I focus on my studying.
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I was discussing relationships with other actuaries at a seminar a couple of weeks ago... And we all realized that of the sucessful corporate high-ups we knew, most of them did not have high-powered spouses. Even the female partners at the consulting firm I used to work for, their husbands were artists, caterers, one owned a fly-fishing shop... All good careers, but not corporate. And the men too, their wives didn't work, or also had similar non-corporate careers.
I think there's a lot of value in having both people in the relationship working in fields with very different challenges and very different definitions of success. I think it makes it easier. You get stressed over different things, and not always at the same time, kind of makes it easier to be there for each other.
That, and for people in very time-consuming or high-stress careers, I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to be with someone who is more home-oriented than career oriented. I don't think it's a gender role thing, after all, I'm the one working all the time, and who spent the first couple of years as the primary income in our household. But, you know, *someone* needs to keep the home fires burning.
Today, for no particular occation, my boyfriend gave me:
This Titanium Ring!!!!!
It's not an engagement ring, we're not getting married until I finish my actuarial exams and he cleans up his credit. I had lost the stone from my old ring, and had jokingly told him he should get me a ring for my birthday. He told me he got this one for me just because he loves me.
The center stone is white saphire, the two larger side stones are moisenite, and the 4 smaller side stones are rubies. I'll try to get pics tommorrow.
I am totally twitterpatted.
Sometimes, when I'm really wrapped up in studying and stuff, I get hit in the head with this incredibly intense melencholy. Out of nowhere, I suddenly get all sad about being so boring, so unsatified with my un-rock-star-ness.
I get all nostalgic for nights spent up all night talking music and philosophy, ending up at a crepe shop for breakfast, our makeup all smeared, exhausted and intelectually sated. Or working the door at crazy shows. Or rolling at parties, being all talkative and one with the universe.
I start getting this thought like I wish I had some musical talent, so then I could be in a band, then I'd *really* be a rock star. But I know tons of people in bands, and I know the whole rock star thing, doesn't really happen. And even when people give it a go, it's not really all that much fun.
Well, then maybe I need a glamorous, exciting, interesting hobby. Then I smack myself upside the head. I have the single most beutiful belly dance dress ever made hanging in my closet as we speak, and I'll be dancing in it in a week and a half in front of a giant theater full of people. I *do* have a glamorous hobby.
I guess I'm mostly just lamenting getting too old for those up-all-night talking music, art, and the nature of the universe things.
I had a big performance last night. I danced at a big dance show at a theater at Washington University (not at a bellydance-community event, but at an event where there were dancers from all over the city, and people payed $20/ticket to see the show!
Our school danced to two songs, the first was more traditionally bellydance, and the 2nd was to a song that was a cross between arabic and afro-cuban styles of music, and the dancing was a blend as well. It's super-cute. I was in the traditional piece. There were 5 of us dancing with veils, and we formed a semicircle type shape around 3 dancers with swords. I was the center veil dancer, which was most cool.
As a completely unrelated aside, the ballet dancers wear the ugliest crap backstage... baggy sweatpant overalls, grungy insulated socks... oh those poor things, too skinny to keep themselves warm. Also some of them were grumbling about how the cosumes we and the Indian dancers were wearing were a lot cooler than theirs. I would be grumbling too if the skirt of my dress was cut to look like mis-proportioned flower petals.
Anyway, so right up until like an hour before the show, the veil dancers are still going over stuff. At rehersal yesterday afternoon, my veil shrink wrapped itself to my face while I was dancing. We were all anticipating a disaster. But when we got on stage, it went off without a hitch. Our teachers take on it was, "Have you guys been shitting me for the last 3 weeks? Did you guys just know it all along and mess up in practice just to freak me out?" I twas awesome. The audience was clapping along with our music, it was great.
I learned a lesson from it too: We thought we were unprepared, but we had practiced hard, and when it came time to do it, adrenaline pulled us through. I think that's where I'm at with my exam: If I make a solid push of studying these last 10 days, and I consitently do well on my practice exams, then adrenalyn should help me pull through with enough of a margin to feel pretty confident about my score.
Also, my micro roses are developing buds. I'm going to have real live roses that I grew all by myself on my balcony!
Just 18 hours to go!
So anxious. I think I'm pretty ready, but I won't know for sure until tommorrow morning. Ooof. Unfortunately, there is a lot more on these exams than can be tested in 35 questions, so the tests are *very* different from sitting to sitting. There is a certain element of chance about whether or not the material on the exam overlaps well enough with the stuff I've studied. I could get blindsided.
Anyway, thanks for all of your well wishes!
So I took the exam about 3 weeks ago...
It took me this long to recover enough to be willing to blog about it!
Anyway, The test was 4 hours and 35 questions. All calculation/numerical questions, but multiple choice, so no opportunity for partial credit if you make arithmetic mistakes.
Although it's against the rules, a lot of people take their MC letter answers out of the test. The evening of the test (after the sittings are done in all time zones) one person will usually volunteer to run the PAK (popular answer key), and everybody sends them their answers. They then create a key based on the idea that usually wrong answers are fairly evenly distributed between the different wrong answer choices (with the exception of tricky questions that trick people into one specific wrong answer) so that the right answers are usually the plurality of answers for each question. The PAK is usually right to within a question or 2.
According to the PAK, I got 24/35. The pass mark is usually 21-22. (The pass mark is set each sitting after the tests are all scored. Although the societies say that the exams are not "curved", it's pretty clear that the pass mark is usually set to keep the passing percentage pretty steady)
I'm not going to tempt fate by claiming I passed, but the odds are pretty decent I may have pulled it off. I won't know officially until July 14.
Strawberries: These are going nowhere. Not dying, but not thriving either.
Roses: I'm so sick of these fussy bitches. I am seriously tired of the fact that the relatively benign incecticidal soap I'm using only keeps the aphids at bay for about 3 days at a time.
Habanero: It's putting out glossy green leaves all over, and there's almost a dozen buds on top.
Hanging Tomato: If you scroll down, a week ago, the plant came half way up to the hook, now they're way up there, I'm curious how huge this thing will get! It's got 2 sets of open flowers, and 2 sets of brand new buds. I will hopefully have a ton of tomatoes.
Experimental Tomato: It's clearly not thriving, but it's not dead yet either. It's also got a cluster of flowers.
Morning Glories and Moonflowers: Both have started growing vines. I'm curious just how fast they're really going to take off.
Valentina's post on the topic of Karma reminded me of a post I had been meaning to write a few months ago on the exact same topic.
First, as a bit of introduction. The summer between my junior and senior years of college I fucked up. Part of it was being 20 years old and personally stupid, and part of it was being naiive and not realizing I was being sucked into a vortex of other people's problems. I won't go into details because it was stupid, and anyway, it happened 6 years ago. The drama culminated in the woman involved in the drama threatening to drive to Nashville and shoot me.
Fast forward to a couple of months ago, she calls my mother (my parents phone number was on the lease I signed that summer when I rented their house) trying to track me down. My mom won't give her my contact info, but accidentally let slip I was in St Louis. I'm in the phone book, so it was easy to find me. My mom was nice enough to call me and let me know this woman had called. She had told my mom that she needed "closure".
(Let me interject that counselors/therapists/well meaning friends who tell people to dig up people from their past and demand "closure" are jackasses. Seriously, what is the point of trying to stir up 6-year-old shit? To re-open old wounds? Seriously, what is the logic?)
Anyway, due to the beauty of caller ID, I screened her calls and let the machine take them. They weren't mean or anything, she just wanted an apology. Well, to paraphrase House, you either get to ask for an apology, or you get to threaten to shoot me, you don't get both. And to be perfectly honest, I have nothing to apologize for other than having been 20 years old and attractive. I didn't actually do any of the things she still firmly believes I did.
She left three messages, the last one ending with, "I'm not going to call you again, but you know, I believe in Karma"
Snort. You know what, me too. I made mistakes, I learned from them. I apologized when appropriate, and grew the hell up. Got less naive and less stupid. And the more I learn from my mistakes, the smoother my life seems to go. Everyone makes mistakes. Karma isn't just about cosmic retribution, it's about learning. It's about getting smacked upside the head with the clue stick if you can't figure it out for yourself. Well, I figured out what I was doing that was stupid, and I fixed it. No need for the clue-by-four.
Her, on the other hand... Well, her life has not been so smooth. Some things beyond her control, but by no means all. Seriously, if she wants to dig up 6 year old shit, she can wallow in it all by her lonesome. And honesly, has no right to complain about the stink, since she's the one who dug it up. I wonder why, if she believes so much in Karma, she can't see that the universe might be trying to tell her that her own hunger for drama is stupid.
So, yeah. i don't really know where I was going with this, I just wanted to get off my chest how funny I thought it all was...
Godwin's Law says whoever invokes Nazis/Hitler in an argument first loses.
In addition to this, a friend and I decided today that if, in the course of an internet argument someone declares their authorativeness based on being a member of MENSA, they also automatically lose.
Oh my god, I dropped the ball. I undid a ton of really hard work with a little oversight. Something no one in their right mind should have done.
So you know those exams I talk about periodically? And you know how I've been studying for this one, and my company sent me to Chicago for a week to prepare, and bought me hundreds of dollars of books? I forgot to register.
It would have taken me 10 minutes, and I forgot to do it.
My boss has been fairly supportive. That is, once he finished laughing at me. I know he didn't mean to be mean. I can certainly see the humor in it. And they're not making me pay back the money or anything, unless I quit my job before next fall, which I doubt I'll do.
I feel like an idiot, a bonehead. And the sad thing is that telling my boss was the easy part. Now I wonder how I'll tell my mom! She'll be disapointed and angry, and I just won't be able to bear it. Even though there's nothing she can do to me. And I'll here about it for the rest of my exam-taking career. My mom will nag me about every one, reminding me to register because "remember how unhappy I was this time", every sitting for the next 3 or 4 years until I'm done. Worse than that, for *at least* the next 10 years, she'll bring it up whenever I have to remember something important. I won't get to live it down.
She'll ask me if I am depressed. I am not depressed, I am exhausted. I have been traveling far too much lately, and I hate it. It throws off my schedule, it throws off my rhythm, and I just don't enjoy it. 3 of the 4 trips were to see my parents, and it's great to see them, and they want to see me as often as possible, but they don't really understand how much it wears me out. They don't get how hard it is on me to be away from my home.
And my mom is having her hip replaced in a week and a half. My parents don't really understand that this is stressful for my sister and I. After all, we're not the ones going through surgery. And yeah, it's a planned thing, not an emergency, but seriously, it's my mom. I am not so excited about facing the fact that she's getting older.
And I'm buying a house. And that's kind of daunting too. I have great credit, and I can afford it, but it's still a really big deal. I want to do it, but I'm afraid of moving again, afraid of change. Afraid of messing something up because I've never done this before. Or what if I forget to do something minor but crucial, and mess up my mortgage the same way I did my exam?
I am so damn tired. I want my mother. (except I want my mother when she's sweet and supportinve, not the way she is when she's all disapointed and disapproving.)
I love the "notes" feature in Flickr. I took pictures of my brown, dead winter yard, and notated where I've planted all of my bulbs (or at least where I think I've planted them) The pictures are kinda boring, but I'm excited and looking forward to a few months from now, when things start sprouting, and I can match them up to the pictures.
Have a look at all the ugly landscaping I'm trying to work around!
