*sigh* I keep torturing myself by looking at adoption agency websites. Yes, I'm a masochist.
I miss Pennsic.
Um, other than that, I might actually have to crack open my nursing book and start studying. I got a 90% on my last test, which is still an A but just barely. I want to make the Dean's List every quarter, I think on one hand to prove something to myself and to others, and on the other, I think it would be nice to have some sort of bragging rights, you know? To show that I'm not a total failure at school, never mind that I keep starting and failing to graduate through some muckup or other.
Oh hell, I don't know.
5 more to go...
Also, I've had a hankering to try just a weensie bit harder to not look like Exhausta McHaglike. So I picked up some lip gloss. I dunno...we'll see. Lord knows since I single-handedly keep Chapstick in business it's just as easy to smear on some lip gloss instead. Maybe eventually I'll get to the point of wearing makeup again on a regular basis. I know, I know, it only takes a few minutes, etc., etc., I'll look a lot better with makeup on, more self-confidence blah blah blah. As a fat chick, I feel more secure feeling invisible. But wanting to feel invisible and yet wishing I wasn't makes for a heavy makeup addiction, even if I never wear the stuff. One might argue that the makeup addiction is worse for never wearing the stuff. So like I said, it's easiest to start off with lip gloss and see if I can get the hang of that.
Can you tell I've forgotten to take my crazy pills on a regular basis this week?
Which reminds me...brb, dosing myself.
It's probably bad form to reward myself for taking my antidepressant by scooping myself a large bowl of ice cream, but I haven't had dinner yet and dairy is one of the four food groups or whatever stupid chart the USDA is using these days. So screw it.
I know part of the problem is what time of year it is: Pennsic season. As usual, I won't be going this year, nor will I be able to go next year (since I'll still be in year-round school). Pennsic 2014 (er, I think that's, what, Pennsic 44? 45?) will be the earliest I will be able to go, which makes me all sorts of sad. It's hard to explain WHY it makes me so sad, except maybe for this post I made back in the day. It's just...promises, you know? And the prospect of meeting some of you on my f-list (assuming I could work up the courage to stop by and say hello -- being just an okay costumer means that some of you all are like rock stars to me...like expect me to get a little starry-eyed and maybe even choke up a little bit if I ever meet you) even if it is intimidating!
Yes, yes, I know Pennsic will still be there, but adopting from foster care means there are enormous levels of governmental interference in our lives for an unknown and unpredictable length of time, and I'd like to go to Pennsic before having to negotiate crossing state lines with a foster child, and all the headaches that come with dealing with a bureaucracy. I'll be 36 in 2014. And considering my late 30s is (IMO) getting Too Old for first-time motherhood (especially if we are blessed with smaller children), that means we are very limited to how many more years we can put off Pennsic without also hanging up our chances to become parents.
I could do it within 4 years of getting my ASN (always assuming that The Powers That Be don't change up educational requirements for NPs sometime in the next, oh, six years or so). It's do-able. It's...very do-able.
Took Awesome!Neice to Fox Island for swimming yesterday; the entire family (Awesome!Niece, Boe, Mel, and myself) went and made it an official Day At The Park with a cooler full of lunch stuff. We all pigged out, swam a lot, pigged out some more, kept slathering ourselves in sunscreen, swam a bit more, and finally called it a day after everyone was tired, sun-pinked, and the worst of the heat had passed. The breeze didn't even feel like a breeze -- more like opening the door of a blast furnace. So I was grateful for the swimming and getting to spend time with Awesome!Niece. She's a total hoot. Now, this kid is 8. She sings in a local band. She plays piano, clarinet, flute, piccolo, and guitar (both my sister and my brother in law are musically talented). Her local band even cut a CD (Awesome!Niece graciously signed my copy). Most kids that age, especially if they have exposure to the music industry/entertainment biz, will tell you that they want to be a rock star, actor, etc. Not Awesome!Niece.
She wants to be a geneticist. (Cue "She Blinded Me With Science")
Seriously. She is deeply interested in DNA, cloning, all that stuff and when I sent her one of those microscope kits that you can get at educational stores a couple of years ago, you would have thought that she had died and gone to heaven. When I drove her from my mom's house in Columbus OH to my dad's house in New Haven IN (a 3 hour drive), we didn't even bother turning on the radio -- we talked about science the entire drive. Discussed everything from Henrietta Lacks and HeLa cells to CC the cloned kitten and even how tortoiseshell cats can't be cloned to have the same coat pattern. I love that kid.
After dropping Awesome!Niece off at my dad's, we went home, showered, took naps, and once the temperatures started to drop, had fighter practice in the back yard. That was lovely...a houseful of friends again, and a couple of people who are interested in joining Adria. Boe's decided that 2 years is a long enough hiatus to garner enthusiasm again, so once he's working, we'll be rejoining Adria. I won't be able to participate as much as I'd like because I'm in school, but it's good to Boe enthusiastic again.
Now onto my nursing final for the quarter -- I should wind up with a B in this class. Not my favorite grade, but the instructor Has Issues. Oh well. Won't be my problem after today.
In other news, we're broke again. Big shock there, I'm sure. But we have groceries, cat litter, gooshyfoods, and phone service.
WM must have had extra roses left over from Mother's Day, because each of us mother-y types got a dozen as we clocked out...I took them home, put them in a vase, and admired them until pretty pretty Princess decided they were fun to play with and promptly snapped the heads off of half of them. Brat. So I had to move my remaining roses to the living room fireplace instead of the kitchen table -- here's hoping that they stay intact for longer than a day.
Other than that, there really isn't too much going on except midterms this week.
On the one hand, it's kind of awesome I am so excited about writing a research paper...on the other hand, it's kind of sad that I am this enthusiastic about writing a research paper.
Posted via m.livejournal.com.
In a fit of antsiness, last night I busted out my embroidery materials for the first time in a couple of years and have started blackworking a shirt collar. Well, I'm using Aida cloth and kelly green cotton floss, so it's not accurate at all, but it was in my stash, I didn't have any other use for it, and frankly anyone who wants to snark me for it can go hang.
In other news, I found out why I haven't seen any mice all winter...I found Princess's stockpile of mummified mousie corpses behind the couch. Eight of them. *shudder*
Added to that is the very peculiar sensation that I have felt since first coming down with this round of strep. My ears aren't involved in the infection, otherwise I'd blame this weird feeling on that. It feels like I am a half-second slow on physical responses to stimuli, and that my balance is off just a hair. I'm shaky and just a tiny bit nauseous too. It's like I'm a combination of tipsy and hypoglycemic. Very weird. If this continues after finishing all of my antibiotics, I will go back to the doctor to get checked out.
And naturally, I want to sew. Nevermind that it's finals week and feeling like I'm consistently ready to fall over. *facepalm* Sewing muse, your timing is lousy.
I feel partly drunk, partly like I am close to fainting, and incredibly stupid...I can't seem to access anything more brain-complicated than how to take vitals, so I daresay that test results for this week are going to be rather disappointing. Oh well, it's not like I can help being punch-drunk with The Sick, so I just need to go slower on tests (I am routinely the first one done with tests, to the point where 2 of my instructors suspected me of cheating and so had me placed directly in front of them during test-taking, which became rather funny once they realized that not only was I NOT cheating, I was just that fast. Cue confusion on their parts. Heh.).
But I have my ATI stuff done for the week, have my homework completed early, and have no plans for tomorrow except getting Frank and Odin to the vet office at 8 AM for their dental work. So I think going home and collapsing is probably pretty high on my list of plans for today.
Scratch that. I just remembered I need to type up some form of cheat sheet for household conversions for my class. You would be absolutely astounded how many people in my class cannot remember how to convert milliliters to liters, grams to milligrams, ounces to pints, etc. Cue snarky comment about the state of this country's educational system...this is stuff I learned before middle school! I hate to say it, but I can already tell who will probably wash out of the program and who will stick around -- in general, the ones who are asking me for help or are scheduling tutoring sessions are the ones who will stick. Already, there are some who are making comments about "I'm never going to get this" or "Maybe I should change my degree program." They have already given up, in those cases.
I refuse to give up, though. This is my last chance, my last ticket out of this rut that Boe and I are in. I am going to do this one way or the other and that is that.
Gotta go, a classmate told me a slot just opened in the sim lab, so I'm off to get my practice done early!
It dawned on me, though, that I really don't have friends I hang out with or go and see on any regular basis...not since cubsfan57 and her husband Brian-sans-LJ moved to Kansas. To be honest, it doesn't freak me out the way that it freaks Boe out. Bless him, he worries that he's just up and leaving me all by my lonesome, in which I will pine away in sheer loneliness. But I'm far more comfortable being alone than he can imagine -- remember, he has Massive Hangups Indeed when it comes to being by himself, and it is difficult for him to imagine any circumstances in which he is comfortable being by himself for any length of time. I mean that. When we were first married, he used to follow me around a ~500 square foot 1 bedroom apartment. Mercifully, I broke him of that habit about the time we moved into our house.
So anyway. Being by myself isn't the awful fate for me that Boe seems to think it is. I'm a bit of an introvert (although a very social one) and being by myself gives me an opportunity to function without being "on". It's something that I do with every single person -- including Boe. I am constantly "on", and Friday evenings give me the chance to drop the personae* just a hair. It's quite refreshing. Besides which, I DON'T have friends I can just randomly visit, or invite myself over for a cup of coffee, or invite over to our place to
Can't convince Boe of that, though. He worries for my mental health...but him getting that job was the best thing to happen to my mental health since I was put on Wellbutrin.
*I have several. At school, I am The Pendantic Wunderkind, at work, the Helpful Bakery Associate, at home, the Practical and Sacrificing Spouse, and on the internet, the Occasionally Witty, Often Bitchy Costumer Who Likes To Talk About Herself. Hence this post.