Wednesday, June 03, 2009

goodbye old friend

Well, it's time. Time to move the blog. Time to shut down this one.

I know it's silly, but I'm kinda sad about moving. Silly. But true. The blog was and has been my safe place, my emotional outlet, the place where I could be free and be me, all of me, any me, every me-any day of the week.

It's just time. Time to move on. I've changed. This part of me is closed. The person who was when this blog started, no longer is.

I've grown. I've matured. I've healed.

Nine months of intensely painful therapy will do that. I would hope it would do that. Thank god it did that for me.

So, it's time to move. I hope you will all continue to join me on my new journey. If not, that's fine too. I'm glad you were here for this part of the journey. But this part of the journey is now over.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

just sayin'

I seem to be drinking a lot.

"A lot" is subjective.

But, there appears to be a few empty wine bottles and a few empty beer bottles about my kitchen area.
There may be an empty vodka bottle as well.

These weren't emptied all at once.
I mean, that's just irresponsible drinking and begging for a hangover.

More like one at a time over the course of a few weeks.

Okay. It hasn't been a few weeks. Just since school has been finished.

So a few-ish weeks.

I need to empty my fridge for the move.

No sense in adding to the move-age, ya know? Just practical, really.

I like being practical.

I also seem to be drinking alone.
I hear when you drink alone that's the sign of a true alcoholic.
Just what I hear.

Probably just rumors.

I ignore rumors.
And bad advice.

That bottle of red wine from Budapest that I was saving was dee-lish.
I like dee-lish.
And de-groovy.
De-light can sometimes be bright and distracting.
But I don't like to dance with another.

quote of the week: yeah, but what color is it?

"It's white."
-George Washington describing the White House.

inner dork: a watched pot

Two weeks in a row! Holy cow, inner dork is really back!

Did you know that water boils at 212 degrees Fahrenheit at sea level, and at 150 degrees Fahrenheit at the top of Mount Everest.

Hmmm, interesting.

But what happens if you watch that pot?

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

the computer flu

So, on Sunday my computer was taken down by the Trojan Horse computer virus. It was fun. However, I (think) (hope) (pray) that I was able to outwit it. I outwitted it by going into my control panel and adding anti-virus protection, while my screen was shouting at me to buy the no-name anti-virus wear for $49.95. More than 24 hours later...and at 15+ viruses were contained.

Who's a bad ass?


Or just extremely patient and broke, therefore, I had the time and the broke-ness made me fix it myself.
Had school still been in session, these same patience would not have been found.

However, in all of this, I discovered that yes, I am WAY to dependent on technology. Well, not so much technology, cause I do not have an i-Pod, or any other techie gear, but I have become way too dependent on my computer and more specifically, email. Gosh, but I do love the e-mail. Part of this had to do with the fact that I posted a lot of my stuff on craigslist and I wanted to see if I had any inquires (well over 10 for my free couch and recliner. Which have both been spoken for.) (nothing for the things I want money for. Go figure.) But still, I think I need to ween myself from the keyboard.

How about you? What are you too dependent on?

Saturday, May 16, 2009


The parents came for a quick stay-over and left after a good breakfast of carbs, dead animals, and grease.

A lot of stuff was donated and a lot of stuff was sent home with them to put into my old bedroom.
A lot more still needs to be packed. (sigh.) I hate packing, moving I don't mind so much. Packing, to me, means throw-out, get rid of, donate, and why the hell do I have this? eck! Get rid of it. It's cathartic.

I should probably be packing right now.

Honestly, if it was practical I would donate, sell, and throw-out 99% of what I own. By the time it is over, I will have donated about 25% of my schtuff.
Why not all 99%? Well, because I will need to replace it. Ala, my couch, chair...and that takes money and my mortgage payment kicks-in in December and it's for 10 years, so..... ("Mortgage" means "student loans.")

However, the big, ugly, comfy couch will be donated and so will the recliner, which is in perpetual recline. The reason? The couch has lost one of its adjectives (comfy) and the recliner (although still amazingly comfy) is in perpetual recline (meaning, it's broken.) So much of my stuff is old. And it was old when I received it for free, so, it's time to donate it on.
Oh, and my microwave, which I call "the oldest microwave ever invented and still in continual use." It's a monster. Cook a 20 lbs. turkey in it, monster. It also might not be safe. Safe to use. Some of those micro waves may not be staying in the unit. It's just a theory I have, but probably not that far-fetched. (Truly, it's from the late 70s, early 80s. They don't make 'em like this anymore.)

Anyway. I've thought about what do I really need, materially, what do I need? Clothes (as in what I have, non-name label), my funky jewelry (much of which I have made)(or have come from my travels) and my artwork (paints, brushes, canvases, and what I have made/completed) that's about it.
It used to include my books. I love reading and learning, but I've learned that's what the library is for. ( is a great way to sell and make money.)

So, if that's all I need, why do I have more than that?

How about you, what do you need? Cannot part with?

Thursday, May 14, 2009


As of this moment I have been viewed 11,000 times.

I feel so exposed.

But in a good way.

I also feel this is a good time to give a heads up that I will be moving. Moving my living space and also my blog space. More on that next week or so.

The week+ of no school has been pure bliss. Heavenly. Lovely. No guilt that I should be doing something other than sleeping and watching mindless TV. Worry over a grade, a paper, or something else completely arbitrary and out of my control. I have been in school since 2003. Full time since 2004. The longest break I've had from the book learning has been winter break of three weeks. I also worked in academia...that's a lot of schoolin'.

Anyway. It's been wonderful.

More on the move next week. Or so.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

inner dork: 86'd


I know! I'm giddy and running my words together, too!

So, having worked in the restaurant biz, and my infinite love for the Travel Channel and the Food Network (although the love for the Food Net is waning. Not a fan of the new shows.) Anywho, I've always wondered where the phrase 86'd came from.

So, after several consultations, I found that there is not one answer, but several. So, I am going with the answers I saw the most frequently and the ones which make the most plausible sense.

Did you know....

The phrase 86'd referrers to when a diner/restaurant/cafe/coffee shop/food eatery of the like and kind that serve food and beverages, runs out of said food and drink items.
Why 86'd and not 23?

Because: a grave is 8 feet long and 6 feet deep. Hence, 86.
Or, because New York had a statute #86 that stated a bartender should stop serving a patron when they became too inebriated. (hmm, I've been 86'd once.) (Maybe more.) (I couldn't say with any accuracy how many times it may or may not have happened.)
Another answer is that restaurants used to use a number system: ie: 33, I want a cherry coke, 82 meant, "I want a glass of water," 99, the manager is around. And so on.

Hmm, who knew?? Not me.

You've been dorked.

just askin'

Bridezillas, what the hell. How do these women get men to agree to marry them?
What the hell is wrong with the men who are agreeing to marry them?

Train wreck. Absolute train wreck.

Cannot turn my eyes away from said train wreck.

Thursday, May 07, 2009

super-quick update

First, anon comments are ridiculous.


Tuesday was my official last day. Yay!

Wednesday a girlfriend and I went out for lunch..for four was awesome to just sit and not have lingering guilt that I should be doing school work, or talking about school work, or worrying about school work. Awesomeness.

I won't know my grades until Wednesday. Two classes I was hanging on for dear life to my "B" so, let's hope I was able to do so. One class was an undergrad class, I was one of two grad students in there and truly, she expected PhD-style work from us. Um, no.

Anyway, it's over, it's done. Thank you jesus, and karma, and budda, and, and, and!

On the job possibilities front, I have two leads. One is working one-on-one with special needs children and adults (thanks, facebook for the power of reconnecting with old friends and networking). The other is a an amazing opportunity, which would have me moving to St. Louis. I really want this gig, so I am not going to jinx it by speaking of its amazing-ness. (When I speak of things on the blog, they get jinxed.)

Okay, I hope everyone is amazing and I will hence-forth be reading each blog faithfully and I will now also have the brain-power to comment.

Thanks for all of your well-wishes, encouragement, and love and hugs over the past two years, I really, really greatly appreciate it all!

Thursday, April 23, 2009

zero motivation, zero attention span

Seriously. I cannot focus on school, on words, on learning, on edumacation, on anything. Nothing. Zilch. Zip. Neal. Nada. No-thing. Not a thing. Not one thing. Zip.

All the words seem to be in Swahili and they are very, very big words with way too many syllables. Today, next week, and then finals week. Then, done. DONE! Done, I say!

It wouldn't be so bad, except that, in dealing with such issues as restraining orders and "advisors" who did not feel like abiding by accommodations granted by the school, therefore, I have to go in on Saturday and make-up a public finance test. Blech. Ah, opportunity costs and short attention spans which could not be accounted for back in February.

Okay, and typing. Apparently I've lost the ability to type. Oh dear god! Let the pain and suffering end.

On the comps front, I have not made a decision one way or the other. I'm just going to concentrate on the next two weeks and go from there. OMC asked why I came to grad school. I came to learn and to get a job in the human rights field. I did not come for the piece of paper, for the glory of the cap and gown, for the initals behind my name, or for a bigger paycheck. Of course, I would love a bigger paycheck, but let's be honest, human rights doesn't present a lot of monetary benefits, the benefits are in other ways. As long as I can pay my bills, get out of debt, and still have a few dollars at the end of the week to hit a happy hour, I'm golden. So, I'll keep you posted.

However, the way the job market is right now, I'll be lucky to land a gig at Starbucks by the time it's all over with.

Saturday, April 18, 2009

another year older, so that surly means another year wiser

Oy, yesterday was my big birthday, 35. I've been dreading this birthday for some time, 35!!!...However, the closer it got to being here, the prouder I became to say that I was turning that age.

Interesting time last night. A friend who I have not seen since 1995 came up to stay with me. we reconnected on Facebook back in March and he and I talk everyday. Weird how the world works.

In other news, comps and orals did not go so well. Orals was the most horrific experience, ever. Horrible. It was only supposed to last 45 minutes, mine was one hour and six minutes of pure interrogation hell. Not at all what I was expecting...the others was just as bad, not just me being grilled. Has anyone been through this process? I'm just curious as to what others experiences have been.

Anyway, my question is: I'm not sure I want to re-take the portions I have to re-do. The thought of it is very daunting to say the least and the twitch that has been in my left eye for the past few months has moved to my left cheek, quite annoying. So, my question: does anyone know what the difference would be between "masters degree" versus "masters degree candidate" on a resume and interview process?

Any help would be appreciated. I want out of this town. And yes, of course, I have gone back and forth and forth and back over and over all of this and cycled through all the emotions about 46 times since Wednesday night.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

lessons in stress management

Comps are on Thursday and Friday. All positive energy and thoughts being sent my way are appreciated. Two days of testing, nine subjects, 10 questions; no idea what those questions are/will be. Eck! (Every moment I am awake, there has been a book, note, computer, pen in my hand, face, mind.)

Stress level, too high to count.
Here is my state of (mind) life from last week:

Tuesdays are my incredibly long day. I’m in class from 11:00-8:00 and by the time I leave class I am cross-eyed exhausted and famished. So, I sprint across campus to buy my late night dinner, boogie on home, change my clothes, wash my face, take-out my contacts, clean my glasses, put on my glasses and inhale my dinner where chewing may or may not be involved (definitely will not be involved.)

Last week was no different. The only difference was when I put on my glasses. Glasses on and my world is a blurry-eyed mass of colors and indistinguishable figures. In 1.5 seconds there is a rush of thoughts and emotions: “I am going blind. The stress of grad school has stolen my eye-sight. Awesome. I don’t have insurance, how am I going to pay to get my eyesight back? My glasses are broken! In the five minutes it took me to wash my face I lost my eyesight. My prescription changed, holy hell, I’ve gone blind. I’m going to fail grad school because I cannot see to take my exams, or read, or write. Perhaps I will be able to fulfill my dream to play the piano.” What in god’s name is going on with my brain-eye connection?

I take off my glasses to see what has gone wrong with my vision.
Wait. I can still see.
It’s a miracle! I’m cured!

It’s either a miracle or, my contacts are still in.

Contacts + glasses = a blurry world of colors and figures. My dream of becoming a piano player is over.

So, I inhale my dinner and decide that I should study.

But then I think perhaps studying for my comprehensive exams can wait. After all, I did just temporarily lose my eyesight.
I compromise.
Instead I open (and drink) a large glass (also known as a bottle) of wine, take a Xanax, and watch Jim Gaffigan on Comedy Central.
Believe it or not, Xanax + a large glass (bottle) of wine does not = an insomnia cure. Believe it or not, it makes for a very restless night of sleep.

Grad school has turned me into a pill popping-sleep deprived-emotional eating- alcoholic.

Okay, fine. Just a pill-popper. (It’s for stress.) (Swear.)

Daily school work+ exams+ finals+ comps = the need to pop pills. (There for stress.) (Swear.)

School is over in 5 weeks.

Not that I’m counting.

Stress management lesson is over. (Oh, there’s a lesson in there. You just have to be willing to see what it is.)

Monday, March 23, 2009


Spring break is over and I am more exhausted than I was when it started.

Pages written and typed-up: over 50.
Pages read and written about: close to 200.
Hours spent studying for comps: Not nearly enough.
Days until comps: 9.
Hours, minutes, days spent drinking: zero.

Hmmm, I think I just found my problem.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

whoo-hoo!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's spring break!

Yippee, fucking, Skippy!

As it is Thursday, and what I hope becomes a Thursday tradition, I am once again, tipsy. Tipsy, not drunk. Here's why college towns rock: double vodka cranberry, a shot of Jager, and an appetizer; my total: $5.34, with tip: $7.34. Awesomeness.

Anywho. So, after studying my ass off, over 20 hours since Monday, to study for my Public Finance exam today, I had no idea how to answer the first question. The question which was worth 25 points, or, what is a quarter of my grade. So, I did the only thing I know how to do: ramble about everything else that had to do with financing and problems with it. Throw a dart and I'm sure I hit shit-pie somewhere. Otherwise, I think I aced the test...well, aced as best that an be aced on a Public Finance exam. Please-oh-please let me get at least a B on the exam.

So, what will I be doing during spring break? Well, buckle-up Cowboy, it's pretty freakin riveting: I have three papers, one take-home test, and a presentation all due on Tuesday 24..or, what is my first day back to school after spring break. Yay. So, I have to do all of that, plus, study for comps in the next week. Should be awesome.

Comps are April 2nd and 3rd. Two days of 16 hours worth of brain dump.
This semester is kicking my ass, but somehow it is flying by. Flying, zip, zoom, boom, flash.

Time to start the take-home exam.

Oh, and it is inner dork Thursday, here's a quickie: Lysol was originally marketed as a douche for contraceptive purposes.
All I have to say is, fucking-a ouch.

Thursday, March 05, 2009


Right now, I am borderline drunk.

In another 30 inutes (or so) I will be drunk. (I'mleaving the typos for effect)

I went out with the first years. Best time I've jad in a very, very long time/

Three long island iced teas, one fuck-up drink that the waitress gave to me, and a margarita...all in an hour and fifteen minutes. (wow. fifteen is hard to spell out)

Good times, good laughts, good hot flashes of alcohol, and brain freeze.)

I needed tonight. Boy fif I need tonight. (i'm leaving that typo, too)

It's been hectic and stressful semester. More on that later. I like the first years. I hate the econd years (a.k.a. my classmates)

I'm outtie. Hope your Thursday was wonderful and spectacular.

Monday, March 02, 2009

morning promises, afternoon resolutions

Being a 34 year-old (almost 35, eck!) grad student, I’ve decided I should live a healthier life. I wake-up all bushy-eyed and wide-tailed (no, wait, that’s not right.) (Or, maybe it is.) and I decide I should live a healthier life. I think I will eat only fruit and give my body a cleanse. Yes! What a wonderful positive step in the right direction.

I down my morning fruit smoothie and think, this is great! For lunch I’ll have a V-8 and a veggie blend of juice and it will be delicious and my body will thank me. I will be all glowy and my body will say, “thank you.”
Go me! I. am. awesome.

Then ‘round 2-ish I decide a hot dog sounds delicious.

Cleanse, over.

The hot dog goes against my new vegetarian mentality, but I’m sure this too shall pass. I have given up the cow, the pig, the fish, and the chicken. I, apparently, cannot give up the mystery meat. The mystery meat is delicious and my nemesis. (fist goes in the air, “foiled again!”)

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

the sense of entitlement

Many of my fellow classmates have this idea of what constitutes "their job" within their current employment. The idea that their boss tells them to do something (duties as assigned) that they feel/believe is beneath them.


I've had a million and two odd and various jobs; nothing was or is beneath me. There might have been things I did not want to, or did not care to do, but beneath me, no.

This also plays into the current job market and the impending graduation. I would love to get my dream job, with my dream salary, in my dream city, and have life be all daydreams and daisies.
The reality is, I am planning to move back home for at least the summer until a job pans out. Even if I do have a job upon graduation, I will still be living at home for at least the summer. (assuming job is in home city.)

However, I am prepared for no job, no income, no dream. I am well prepared to take a job at Starbucks, as a janitor cleaning toilets, or working as a fry cook in the local greasy spoon and any number of various dry good and sundry jobs that come with money.

My fellow classmates do not have this same perspective or reality. Job cleaning toilets? Job making $10 an hour (with any luck)..?!?!? Absolutely not.
Granted many of these classmates have parents who are willing, able, and happy to take care, pay for, and supplement any income for.
I do not. My parents are willing to help me out, live at home "rent free" (rent will be paid in chores) and helping out financially in other ways until I have an income coming in, but I can guarantee that they, as well as I, expect me to get a job of some kind (if available) and contribute in some form.
This would be the same idea of something I posted about a few years ago: I did not have a summer job, I had a job. (gee golly gosh, I've been in the work force (legally) for 20 years. (illegally) for 26 (thanks, babysitting.)

So. Where did this sense, idea, of entitlement come from and more importantly, how can we make it go away?

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

inner dork: The history of toilet paper

Because OMC is a demanding little bugger:

I give you, the history of toilet paper:

Did you know…

Before the invention of toilet paper as we know it, people used fur, grass, leaves, their hands. (side note: this is why in some cultures the left hand is considered unclean. I will leave it at that.) (Because they use their left hand…) (In case it wasn’t clear.)

The ancient Greeks used stones and pieces of clay; ancient Romans used sponges on the ends of sticks, kept in jugs filled with salty water. (Cause that seems clean and as if it wouldn’t lead to other diseases or anything.)

Toilet paper as paper dates back at least to the late 14th Century, when Chinese emperors ordered it in 2-foot x 3-foot sheets. (Goodness that’s big.)

Corncobs were next (youch!) and then, of course the Sears cateloug (cause I like to shop while…you know…) (Which, why do people bring reading material into the bathroom? I am never in there for any length of time to warrant this. Which maybe that's the reason I don't understand it...)

Joseph C. Gayetty of New York started producing the first packaged toilet paper in the U.S. in 1857. It consisted of pre-moistened flat sheets medicated with aloe and was named "Gayetty’s Medicated Paper". Gayetty's name was printed on every sheet. (Now that’s advertising.)

Rolled and perforated toilet paper was invented around 1880. It can be attributed to the Albany Perforated Wrapping (A.P.W.) Paper Company in 1877, and to the Scott Paper company in 1879 or 1890. On a side note, the Scott Company was too embarrassed to put their name on their product, as the concept of toilet paper was a sensitive subject at the time, so they customized it for their customers... hence the Waldorf Hotel became a big name in toilet paper. (I had no idea!)

In 1935, Northern Tissue advertised "splinter-free" toilet paper. (Holy smokers! I would have thought that by 1935, this “issue of the tissue” (I just came up with that) would have solved.

In 1942, St. Andrew's Paper Mill in Great Britain introduced two-ply toilet paper (those fancy Brits)

America experienced its first toilet paper shortage in 1973. (Because…..???)

Now, we have double-ply...which I keep forgetting I buy, therefore, I'm really not eliminating any waste (pun was not intended) because I keep using the same amount.

I knew some of this, but not all of this, so thanks:
For providing the info I did not know.

OMC, you’ve finally been dorked! How does it feel?


I've thought about this often, but finally feel the need to write it out; remember when this blog was funny and insightful? Full of clever and witty moments and comments?

Okay, so maybe that is a bit high on myself, but you know what I mean. I feel like I have been such a Debbie Downer and Negative Nelly as of late. Late being the last year..or so... I know and understand that things change, making people change. Or people change, therefore, things change, which, it what has happened with me. But, still. I'm ready for it to change back. Which, I know I can control, to a certain extent, and not to the other extent, but I am ready for things to change. For the better. Nay, the best.

I guess there isn't really a point to this point, just that, yes, I've notice it too, and I'm working on it.

Monday, February 02, 2009

a moment to vent

Okay, so, we got our comp exam schedule (March 30 and 31, eck!) and, in doing my part, I followed-up with my "advisor" to remind him that I need to take my exams alone, per the no contact order.

His response?

That I would be taking the exam in another room on the third floor, and my fellow classmates would be taking the exam in a room on the third floor as well, but he felt comfortable that I would not come into contact with BJ.

Um, are you fucking kidding me?

So, instead of doing the email back and forth thing, I just called him to get an explanation. Classmates will be on the third floor and the room they want to put me in should (keyword) be moved to the basement (of the same building) come exam day. Again, he felt sure that I would not come into contact with my fellow classmates. He, of course, could not guarantee this, but he felt sure.

I did not. I explained this. It was clear I was not getting anywhere. So. I very eloquent email off to the crisis counselor, who shared my thoughts and feelings. Let's see where this goes.

I am so fucking tired and frustrated. The very fact that I had to follow-up. I was afraid of this kind of "accommodation" from the very beginning. The fact that my "advisor" talked to me as if I was a problem and being unreasonable. The fact that I am still dealing with and talking about it.


I am SO tired of this school, of this town, of the people, of the program, of this place. I am doing my best to make the most out of my last months, but truly, the bad, horrible, no good days have SO, SO, SO outweighed the good, that really, has it been worth it? Did I make the biggest mistake of my life by quitting my job and coming here? Who knows and time will tell, but truly, this is another stupid and frustrating situation that simply did not need to happen, which has been the theme of this journey called grad school.

Vent, over.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

not dead

Just very over-whelmed with school, life, and all things dealing with me. Actually, I've been in a rather awesome mood the last few days, and for no particular reason at all.

Last semester did not end well and I was dealing with all of the (very unnecessarily) (CBA professor telling me I received one grade, when really, I received a much different lower grade. Another professor losing one of my papers and instead of telling me this, he just gave me an "Incomplete" for the semester. Which, I sent him my paper again (over a month ago) and he still has not posted my grade. Yes, I have emailed him about this) (and some other crap-a-roo-ni) crap of that during my break. Nice. However, it has been all dealt with, handled, pissed about and over and now onto the next, new, and last semester of my grad school career (thank god for that).

This past weekend one of my guy friends and I were supposed to go on what was to be a relaxing and fun-filled roadtrip. It was a blast for about 6 hours. Then we hit a deer in the middle of BFE IL at 5:45 in the a.m. Raodtrip no longer fun or stress-free.

I am taking classes sans classmates, which has been awesome and even more awesome. However, the three classes I am taking this semester (my last one!!) are very, very (very) paper intensive and well, I still have my research paper from last semester to finish, and comps to study yeah. That's why I am not dead, just MIA. I will try to not be so MIA in the near future. But, I don't promise anything.

Hope you are all doing awesome and swell!