I’m not going to lie. Michael and I watched Julie & Julia earlier this evening, and it is completely my reason for writing. Not that I’ve deluded myself into thinking that anyone besides friends, family, and the occasional stalker read this, but still. My poor, neglected blog. It needs some quality time. *petpet*
Things have been quite schooly, as you could likely surmise. Today was the last day of classes, yet that still hasn’t quite sunk in. I have one take-home exam to complete, as well as an exam to proctor and grade before I’m done. Next Saturday, Michael and I will set off for Tennessee/South Carolina for the holidays and for him to finally make an honest woman of me. Whoa.
I had many grandiose plans of detailing my academic pursuits of the last month or so, but they seem so inconsequential now. I wrote a lackluster paper on Gesualdo as part of a group Wiki (bee tee dubs, if you’re a professor and reading this, please note that not only are group projects in grad school terrible ideas, wikis are EVEN WORSE) in which half of our group didn’t post anything until weeks beyond the due date. I wrote a groovy paper about the cyclical implications of the Liszt Schwanengesang transcription that I’m totally digging on right now–I’d love to see this lead to a bigger project. Dissertation? Lecture-recital (AHAHAHA)? I had to give what was supposed to be a five-minute presentation on this paper, but because I got to go DEAD LAST I ended up with about two minutes to incoherently flail. Frustrating, because when I actually have time, I’m a pretty damn good presenter.
So anyway, most of my work is done for the semester, but because we lead the rock star lives of AIs, we have to stick around much longer. Womp. But it will be nice to be around Bloomington and not have anything to do. Sleeping in is a priority, and I got a jump start on that with a nap this afternoon. Heh.
Thanksgiving was a fun blur of loooots of time in the car, looooots of food, and loooots of PREEEEEESEEEEEENTS! Michael’s aunt threw a bridal shower for me the day after Thanksgiving, and I made off like a bandit! My two favorite items from the haul are the immersion blender and the KITCHENAID STAND MIXER WHAT??! Oh it’s glorious. It’s gray and industrial and reassuringly solid and so freaking nifty. I’ve made so many goodies since acquiring it–snickerdoodles, cake, chocolate chip cookies. It just calls to you. It beckons you. Sitting quietly on the counter, it lures you into creating sugary, fat-laden concoctions you know you otherwise shouldn’t. “Come oooooon,” it croons in its siren song, “don’t worry about fitting into that wedding dress! It’s already been like two hours since you made those cookies! Shouldn’t you balance it out with a carrot cake?”
Birthday wheeeee!
Speaking of cake, Michael had a birthday! He turned 23, finally leaving that netherworld of kinda-sorta being five years younger than me, as opposed to four. I had told him he was entitled to one–count it: one–joke as to that effect before his next birthday, but bless his little (smart, self-preserving) heart, he never made it. In honor of the occasion, I made a two-layer Funfetti cake with Rainbow Chip frosting (per request), and Alton Brown’s 40 Cloves and a Chicken. The cake was delicious, but the chicken? Eh. For something that took as much labor as it did to prepare the garlic (peeling forty cloves ain’t no joke), I was really expecting more of a garlicky flavor, but it really just tasted like…chicken. Good chicken, but still. Just chicken.
In other news, I recently discovered that our cat, Matilda, is a lot more clever than I’ve previously given her credit for. Two points of background information: 1) in our guest bedroom/office, Michael and I store boxes under the extra bed, several of which are cardboard file boxes; 2) in the past several weeks, Matilda has been on medication (eye drops) for some weird wonky eye thing. Which she HAAAAAAAAAATES. It takes a two-person team to corner and subdue her and then dispense said meds (it’s also worth mentioning that we haaaaaaaate this too).
For the past week or so when I’d been sitting at my desk, I’d noticed Matilda’s backside sticking out from under the bed skirt and heard scratching noises. Knowing she’s a big fan of weird textures (she will always, but ALWAYS lie on any piece of paper she can get to), I figured she was just scratching on the boxes, and let her be. And she’s kept at it–slowly, methodically. I never was interested enough to see if she was up to anything, and Matilda was content enough to scratch away, little by little.
Today I noticed from the angle at which she was protruding from under the bed that it was unlikely she was scratching the box I’d previously thought. So, I lifted up the bed skirt, and what did I see?
A big gaping hole in the box springs liner.
Sigh.
That little SHIT had been scratching away, creating a hole for a HIDING PLACE. One we could NEVER get to if she crawled in! And you know what?
SUCK IT, BITCHES. I WEEN I WEEEEN!
She did.
Sigh. I knew the day would come when I was outsmarted by the cats. I can only hope we raised them well, and that they use their powers for good, not evil.
And now, to go block the hidey-hole entry.
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