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I haven’t been avoiding this blog, I have just been occupied doing other things. I’m in class every weekday for two hours, and it’s a horrible, boring class. I don’t like the teacher, and I’m furious that I had to buy four books for a five week class, when nothing even correlates. The good thing about the class is that I only have three weeks left of it. However, I don’t know how the next session of summer school is going to be, since I have to do a thesis-like research study in just five weeks. It’s an independent study, since there was some complications in my scheduling. I just think it will be a lot more interesting than what I’m doing right now.

I work 20 to 24 hours a week. I don’t like Tuesdays and Thursdays because I leave the house around 9:00 and I don’t get back until 6:15. I like working in the mornings, best. I am lucky this weekend in that I had Saturday off, and then I don’t have class tomorrow. I needed this little break.

It hasn’t been so bad here, just a little frustrating. I keep myself occupied, though. I watched all four seasons of 30 Rock, a couple movies, and I’ve been knitting, sewing, and making jewelry. My “sewing desk” is one of Jess’s TV trays and her ottoman set up in my room. We don’t have air conditioning, so pools of sweat consume me while I work on things. Yeah, it’s rather gross. Also, I am apparently the resident bug-killer of the house, too, according to Jess.

I’ve started to toy with the idea of opening up my own Etsy store, but I don’t know. Alex thinks it would be cool, but I need to do more research.

I go visit the apartment where Sarah, Nick, Thom, and Krista live a lot. It takes 40 minutes to walk there from where I’m living, so I try to take the bus. I walked there from Hobby Lobby the other day when it was super hot, and I arrived sweating and gasping for water. My legs look awesome, though, and I like being over there. I get a sense of home, of family.

Alex and I try to talk to each other every night. He’s still looking for a job, and I hope he can find a nice one. He came to visit last weekend and this weekend. He came up on Friday and left just a few hours ago. I’ve been feeling down. I know I’m lucky just to see him for a little bit, and I understand we each have our own things to do, but it’s still not easy.

I practiced driving a little bit while Alex was visiting. It went well, especially since it has been about a month since my last time. We also cooked (with a jalapeño pepper fiasco), read together, played Guitar Hero, and had frozen yogurt.  I also got to see Townsend and Tanner this weekend with all my other friends. We watched Black Dynamite, and it was absolutely ridiculous but hilarious.

I don’t really know what I’ll be doing the rest of this weekend, besides more movie-watching and crafting. I dread going back to class and work on Tuesday, but that’s life – it goes on. Hopefully it won’t be long before I can enjoy the rest of my summer.


I have enjoyed my week off, though I will admit, I didn’t get much of anything done. I didn’t even finish The Grapes of Wrath.

What I did do, however, was satisfying. Even if the last day or so was dedicated to watching the entire first season of 30 Rock.

I knit a lot, attempted a sewing project, cooked, and baked. My mom’s birthday was on Wednesday, and I made her a cheesecake, my first. Here is the result. It tastes just as amazing as it looks.

Also, Alex came to visit on Thursday. It was wonderful to see him, and he stayed for dinner, dessert, and wine. Wine that I bought it in the Loire Valley in 2007 when I went to France. I was unable to taste it for myself, as it was a school trip and the chaperons frowned upon my insistence to drink abroad. Mom and I had been saving that wine for a special occasion; my graduation came and went, mom got a new job, birthdays passed. I think we finally decided, unofficially, that waiting for the right “special” moment just didn’t seem right. Why not drink the wine when we felt like it? So thus, we drank it – for life, family, love, and the joys of summer.

I moved back up to the college town today. When we pulled in, I heard “Life During Wartime” on the radio and couldn’t help but smile at the line about peanut butter.

I’m living with my roommate from sophomore year, Jess. I have my own key and room, and it’s interesting to really be on my own. I don’t have to rely on residence hall living, and I’m truly responsible for what I do. Not that I wasn’t before, by any means, but I just feel small right now.

Dear reader(s), you probably know this already.

I have an obsession, a habit that I cannot (will not?) break.

I make a lot of lists. I love lists. I don’t know why, but they’re so gratifying to make, and usually I make them up of really small tasks, because when I cross them off, I feel better about what I’m doing. I make lists of things I want to do, need to do, books I want to read, movies I want to watch, miscellaneous goals to accomplish (duh), songs I love, songs I don’t usually admit I love, people I love (it’s long), and reasons I love myself (it’s actually quite short).
The above list is today’s. I guess I should get to bed so I can accomplish some of it. If I go in order, you can tell what my priorities really are. Sweets, sewing, and literature > Cleaning. Forever.

On Friday, I had my last shift at work for a week or so, and then I sat down in the Student Center with a Frappuccino and the Grapes of Wrath. It’s an okay book, but had I read it in high school like a bunch of my friends, I would have hated it. I like this particular passage, though:

“When the night came again, it was black night, for the stars could not pierce the dust to get down, and the window lights could not even spread beyond their own yards. Now the dust was evenly mixed with the air, an emulsion of dust and air. Houses were shut tight, and cloth wedged around doors and windows, but the dust came in so thinly that it could not be seen in the air, and it settled like pollen on the chairs and tables, on the dishes. The people brushed it from their shoulders. Little lines of dust lay at the door sills.” (5)

Steinbeck sure knew how to paint scenery, but it makes reading this book a drag sometimes. Hope to finish it tomorrow. I have a lot of books to read this summer, and that’s not even counting the ones for class.

After I packed for a bit, Alex helped me get some of my things over to Jess’s apartment. I love that girl, and I can’t wait to live with her again even if it is for only a short time. I had to say goodbye to Alex around that time, too, since he had to pack and go home.

I sat around the lounge for a few hours and talked with friends I haven’t really had the chance to see all year (because I’m a recluse). I feel terrible that I couldn’t have taken the time to hang out with them before.

My mom and grandparents made it up to the dorm around 6:30. I wasn’t in the best of moods. All I wanted to do was leave. I was tired of being there, in that dorm, on that campus, in that city. I had been ready to leave for months.

We finally packed the van, and then I had to sweep and mop the floor of my room. I accidentally tipped the mop bucket over and spilled dirty water all over the place. It was a disaster. Mom came up and helped me clean it up, though, and I finally got to check out. We were starving, so we went to Steak ‘n’ Shake for dinner.

When we got to the house, I went to bed early and slept for about 12 hours. My grandparents left, and I basically sat around the house, knitting and reading. I stayed up to watch Saturday Night Live just because of Betty White and all the returning female alums, and it was a great episode compared to the ones they’ve been showing in the past couple years.

Sunday, I slept for ten hours and bummed around the house some more. I finally got to doing laundry, but I didn’t shower or change out of my pajamas. Mom liked her mother’s day gift, though, and so that was nice.

Today, I’ve been a bum still. I did one last load of laundry, and I’ve been reading and knitting Alex’s Companion Cube. It looks so good, but I can’t wait until it’s done. I miss my quick-to-gratify projects – which, speaking of, I may be completing a quick sewing project soon, if I can motivate myself to do it. However, I think cleaning my room may be the next task I have to tackle before I return to school.

Being home hasn’t been bad so far. Mom and I have argued a little bit, but nothing much. She keeps telling me I can’t save the world, but I’m not trying to do that – rather, I’m trying to save my world, and what matters to me. It’s difficult, and I’m not quite sure what the future holds. So it goes, you know.

I figured I would just share a list of poetry I read last month to satisfy Goal #89: Read a different poem each day for a month. Most days I only had time to read one poem, since I was finishing up projects, but I would have read more if I could. I’d highly recommend trying this – it’s interesting how people differ in their works, and how they make it personal. If anything, get StumbleUpon and use it to discover new poetry when you’re bored. You’d be surprised.

Poetry Throughout the Month of April:

1st – Lucille Clifton, “Homage to My Hips”
2nd – Amiri Baraka, “Somebody Blew Up America,” “Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note,” and “A Poem for Speculative Hipsters”
3rd – Hettie Jones, “Weather,” “Lament for a Turkish Suicide Age 22,” “Hard Drive”
4th – William Blake, “The Lamb” and “The Tyger”
5th – William Wordsworth, “Daffodils”
6th – Walt Whitman, “Continuities”
7th – Charles Bukowski, “So You Want to Be a AWriter”
8th – Henry Scott Holland, “Death is Nothing at All”
9th – Robert Hayden – “Those Winter Sundays”
10th – Jorge Luis Borges, “The Just”
11th – John Keats, “On Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour,” “A Thing Of Beauty,” “Bright Star”
12th – Diane di Prima, “Rant” and “The Belltower”
13th – Ella Wheeler Wilcox, “Solitude” and Sheenagh Pugh, “Missing Scenes”
14th – Elise Cowen, “A Skin…” “Sitting,” “Teacher – Your Body My Kabbalah,” “Emily…” “Who Will Slap…” “Death…” “Did I Go Mad…” “The Lady…”
15th – Louise Glück, “The Untrustworthy Speaker,” “The Empty Glass”
16th – Theodore Roethke, “The Storm”
17th – Martin Bæk Barksø Rasmussen, “Split Betweeen Two Girls”
18th – Pablo Neruda, “Tonight I can write the saddest lines…”
19th – William Butler Yeats, “When You are Old”
20th – Edgar Allen Poe, “A Dream Within a Dream” and Ezra Pound, “In a Station of the Metro,” “Portrait d’une Femme”
21st – Nichita Stãnescu, “A Poem,” “The Golden Age of Love,” “Season’s End,” and “Sentimental Story”
22nd – Adrienne Rich, “Diving Into the Wreck” and “In a Classroom”
23rd – Charles Bukowski, “8 Count” and “Consummation of Grief”
24th – Pablo Neruda, “Drunk as Drunk” and “Fable of the Mermaid and the Drunks”
25th – Robert Thornton, “Someday”
26th – Ted Hughes, “Lovesong,” “Bride and Groom Lie Hidden for Three Days,” “Examination at the Womb-Door”
27th – Erica Mann Jong, “Parable of the Four-Poster” and Anonymous, “On Jekyll Being Nearly Thrown Down by a Small Pig”
28th – Lenore Kandel, “Hard Core Love” and “God/Love Poem”
29th – Sara Teasdale, “Faults,” “Eight O’Clock,” and “September Midnight”
30th – Mark Strand, “Keeping Things Whole,” “Eating Poetry,” “The One Song,” and “Always”

I love finals week.

During finals week, I can make two key lime pies because I actually have the time to do so.

During finals week, I can go to Broad Ripple on Tuesday night with some of the boys, where I try hookah and Turkish coffee for the first time and then proceed to eat very sloppy gyros while walking down uneven sidewalks (and no napkins).

During finals week, my boy can stay the night and cuddle in the morning.

During finals week, I can go out for Cinco de Mayo and try my first margarita – and be absolutely goofy afterwards.

However, one thing I don’t like about finals week is the fact that I spent hundreds of dollars on books and sold few of them back. I only gained $55 out of the ones I did sell, and then there was one book I told the guy I’d turn around and let him do whatever he wanted with it, just as long as he got rid of it. I hate textbooks.

And now, since I am done with finals, comes the worst part. I have to deconstruct this room I have made for myself, and watch some of my friends go. I will miss them. My walls are now bare and frightening. I want to keep my room. I’m tired of picking up and moving. I want a place of my own. I’m only going to be home for one week before I have to return to this city. I never really seem to leave.

I will enjoy the time I have though, and despite my summer already being somewhat mapped out for me (work-class-reading-knitting-writing-traveling), I think it will be good. Besides, it’s really the last one I’ve got. I’m technically a senior now – weird, eh?

How to Make Key Lime Pie:

  1. First, you must want a desire for the key lime pie – not days, not weeks, but months in advance. Reminisce about your dad’s delicious key lime pie.
  2. A few months later, your professor announces that she will have a cookout for you during finals week. Decide to make the pie.
  3. Ask your dad for his key lime pie recipe.
  4. Decide to not only make one pie for the cookout, but one to share with your friends. Double the recipe.
  5. Drive to the grocery store and pick up the ingredients for the pie(s). This is especially fun if you’re actually practicing for your driver’s license. You do an all right job parking, surprisingly.
  6. Buy the ingredients. Separate from your boyfriend while trying to find lime juice. Don’t worry, you’ll meet up again in the paper towel aisle.
  7. The cookout isn’t until Wednesday, but you think you might make the pie on Tuesday. Realize you won’t have any time on Tuesday. Walk back to your dorm in cold, stormy weather to make that pie.
  8. Call your dad. Find out how he’s doing, and tell him you’re going to make the pie. Also, you think it’s cool that your little brother is taking guitar lessons. Wish you could play guitar.
  9. Grab a bunch of bowls, the kitchen key, and a whisk. You’re supposed to have a mixer, but a whisk will do. Your arm will just get tired later.
  10. Put on the techno playlist you’ve been listening to for the past week. Grab the big red bowl you checked out from the hall desk and decide you can put all the ingredients in it (and surprisingly, you’re right).
  11. Mix the ingredients, but save the Cool Whip for last. Add in more lime juice than recipe calls for because you want it to be extra limey.
  12. Your techno playlist ends. Put your iPod on shuffle. “Hotel Yorba” comes on while you’re adding the Cool Whip, and you think about how long its been since you’ve heard it. Dance around the kitchen.
  13. You realize that you’ve made essentially three pounds (maybe more) of key lime pie filling. Holy crap.
  14. Pour most of that key lime pie filling into the two graham cracker crusts you have ready.
  15. Eat the rest of the filling out of the bowl, and rejoice in how awesome it tastes. Lick the whisk and spatula, too.
  16. Put the pies in your fridge. You wish you could bury your face into those pies right now.
  17. Wash your dishes, including the dirty ones you’ve had lying around. Johnny Cash’s cover of “Hurt” comes on. You accidentally break a spoon.
  18. You finish the dishes while listening to “Psycho Killer” and strutting around the dinky kitchen.
  19. Carry your dishes to your room, and take the key, whisk, and red bowl to the desk. Retrieve your learner’s permit that you left as collateral.
  20. Go back to your room, and repair the broken spoon with masking tape. It’s not pretty, but it will do. Put the rest of your dishes away.
  21. Watch Chowder and The Big Bang Theory. Think about how, maybe, you should work on your final project that is due Wednesday night at your professor’s cookout. Let’s hope you can get that done on time.

(Also, I’ll rejoice in completing goal #46, which is making Key Lime Pie the way my dad does.)