You might not believe me, but it was. Crab legs were on sale and yummy for dinner (no cooking) as was the hollandaise sauce, my D in Organic Chem 2 was changed to a C and I don't know why, my sister's soccer team won while playing 3 men down, and last night:
(Please excuse the wierd thing my pinkie is doing in that picture.) Squee!! And it was a total surprise too. David says I stopped breathing for about 10 seconds. Isn't it gorgeous? The sly dog has had it for two months and I had no clue. And for extra sappy sentiment, he got it from the same jewelers that his dad got his mom's engagement ring. Okay, well I'm gonna go stare at it some more. Merry Christmas!! Eat something sopped in gravy for me!
Call me weird, but it's just not Christmas until Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas Is You" comes on the radio. I know it's not a classic, but I just love to belt that one out in the car. Definitely a cure for traffic-inspired anger. And guess what? I heard it just today. Woo!
So, with the advent of that song and the fin of finals (I'm gonna pass! D stands for Diploma!), Merry Christmas to all! I've already got almost all my shopping done (I Heart Amazon) and it's finally turned cold. The only thing that sucks is that there's not much to be done at work. This might not sound like a problem, but I am rapidly running out of search strings. I might start bringing DVD's to work. And nothing makes it harder to get out of bed than the fact that once you do get out of bed, you're going to be bored out of your gourd for 8 hours. But, Beerfest has been released and drinking games need to be planned.
And, speaking of alcohol, I have come to a very tough realization: I need to watch how much I drink. I lose my grip on reality, and it's not pretty. And my boyfriend should not have to deal with that. Moderation is the key here. I do not need to drink everybody else under the table. It's not needed, and it's not cool. I just need to say this out loud (or type, whatever, it's out there).
Okay, enough with the heavy. The Dress is ordered and will be here in a few months!! As are bridesmaids' dresses! So excited! Florists are being called! I will be excited about the mundane because otherwise this whole wedding planning thing is a crock of shit! And non-mundane: registry picking-out (maybe that's the term)! Presents! We're (I'm) thinking Belk's and Target. Does that sound right? Is registering at Target tacky? I knew one girl who registered at Walmart, but her bridesmaids wore camo kerchiefs as tops and denim skirts, so I don't know. Help! I don't know how to do this!
Sorry to be all "I have imploded" *crickets...* but the usual 3rd quarter exam schedule snuck up on me. Well, not really, I knew it was coming but proceeded with the usual denial followed by a week of 20 hours at the library freaking my shit out.
Anyhoo, Mrs. Flinger was right. It did all work out. What had happened breaks down as follows: I got some bad advice from a professor and dropped a class that turned out to be required and only offered once a year. My advisor decided to be a douchebag and use the situation to get an undergraduate research project out of me (to use as a substitute for the class) for another opportunity to get published. I went to the department head and when I saw my advisor in class on Tuesday, problem solved.
The reason I reacted as badly as I did was because David and I have always said we wanted our degrees and at least one of us with a real job when we got married. So, my panic-fueled brain immediately jumped to the conclusion that this one class would convince David to demand that we wait another 7 months to get married. I was also supposed to drop off a hefty non-refundable deposit that evening for the reception hall, so there was that added pressure too. David was an excellent boyfriend and patted my hair, said "Honey, you go drop off the check; I can't wait to be married to you," and brought a bottle of rum and Streetcar Named Desire over to watch. *Sidenote: Getting tipsy and recreating the "Stelllaaa!" moment may cause your landlords to look at you a little shiftily.
So, only a little crying at work and at breakfast the next day, but having my boyfriend's extremely Southern Baptist dad say "Your advisor sounds like a jackass," and his mom nod agreement completely made my day.
And, yay, here's the dress. I actually look a ton better in it cause I actually have boobs and don't look like a coked-out socialite. This dress makes my waist look oh so tiny and the material is drool-worthy. I seriously told my aunt, "Wow, this dress even makes my hair look pretty." Plus, I'm getting it for 20% off cause it's last season's. I have photos from trying it on, but I still don't have the cord to connect my phone to my computer, so maybe I can get those up later.
I should be in full-on freak-out mode, but I think my brain has temporarily shut down. Short and sweet, I may not be graduating in the spring. If I don't graduate, the wedding may be put on hold. If my wedding is put on hold, I may curl up on your floor and cry. Not only did I find the dress this weekend, my aunt offered to let me use her absolutely gorgeous veil, the deposit for the chapel has been paid, and I'm dropping off the check for the reception site this evening. Everything finally comes together, only to have one absolutely important stitch fall of the hook. So how do I react to this, you ask? I went and got some Mickey D's and wrote a blog about it. Very productive.
Fall Break has started and I, once again, am not going anywhere but work, so a long rambling post ensues... ______________________________________________ Even if no one's wondered, I feel the need to explain my url. It might be stupid, but there's a story behind it (of course). [Sidenote: My cubicle-sharer person just farted. Ew.] My concentration for my Bachelor's is Agricultural and Environmental Soil Sciences. Random, I know. Well, a basic class for this is Soils. Duh. So anyway, one of the professors for this class is a total hardass who really knows his shit. On the first day of class he always asks, "So, what is soil?" And, inevitably, some person who didn't get the memo to sit down, shut up, and pay attention in this class raises his/her hand and answers some form of "Well, it's broken down rock and plants and dirt and stuff." And, every semester, this professor proceeds to get on his soapbox and berate the entire class for thinking soil and dirt are the same thing. "Soil is not dirt, dirt is what you clean out from between your toes!"
Okay, you might not think that's so funny, but what I decided to do with this information is. At a party not so long ago, I had imbibed a little much (read: 1/4 of a fifth of Jack Daniel's) and it being a college party, someone asked me my major. I proceeded to tell him, and he responds with "So, you, like, study dirt?" "No, you idiot! Soil is not dirt!" I replied, quite vehemently. I then told him why and the importance of soil at great length and volume before someone wandered over and saved this poor guy by telling me there were shots in the next room. (There weren't.) So, people tease me about it all the time now. Hence the name, a little self-deprecating inside joke. There you go. ______________________________________________
I'm revisiting my high school to stay the night with my sister tomorrow. I went to a magnet boarding school. Pray for my sanity. ______________________________________________
I've started wedding dress shopping! I'm actually going to do some more tomorrow with my sister. So far, I've found one I love. And it's on sale! Woo!! ______________________________________________
I've got a flickr account now, but I don't have a camera or a cord for my camera phone yet, so stuff will get put up very slowly. But don't let that stop you from checking it out!
That's all I can think of for now, have a great weekend!!
