Perspective
I am wearing a slap bracelet and eating Fun Dip.
Sometimes my job makes me smile.

Hey...so I've been BUSY. How about you? And unfortunately this isn't my way of falling back in love with blogging, just another stop on my way to crazy. I leave tomorrow morning for a spring break service trip to Nashville. Me, ten students, five days and a fifteen passenger van I'm supposed to drive. This could be a very interesting trip, people. And then, I promise, sometime after I return I'll get back to the blogging because, believe it or not, I kind of miss my own mindless rambling. And all of you too, I totally miss you most of all!

Fashionista
As I sat in my meeting this morning I was playing with the collar on my turtleneck when I realized the tag was in the front. I had primped and prepped and sprayed perfume on the...back of my shirt. Yup, an inability to dress myself, a direct relation to having to be at a division meeting much earlier than my regular work start time. And yes, I did turn my shrt around as soon as the meeting ended.

More Music
Apparantely my rock sensibilities are shifting. Below, three rock bands I am currently in to.

Paramore: Misery Business


Blue October: Calling You


Finger 11: Paralyzed

She's back...and you should listen

Still preggers
All of a sudden I am feeling very weepy. No reason. At all. It's been a good day, a very good day in fact, but all of a sudden I'm thinking I could curl up on the sofa and have a good sob. While watching Steel Magnolias. And eating chocolate.

I'm definitely gonna lay off the allergy meds, "they're f**kin' with my serenity!"

These drugs make me feel a little preggers
At this very moment I can not decide if I'd rather have a cookie or a pickle. The sweet sounds tasty and the sour sounds devine. The thought of eating both makes me want to vomit, but the task of choosing one over the other seems impossible.

Obviously the doubling up on the allergy meds was not the best idea.

A Very Personal Stance
She blew her nose countless times during our day together, as did I. It's the cedar and I feel her pain. I have in my overly stuffed bag a packet of mini, disposable tissues. She has in her coat pocket a handkerchief.

I think handkerchiefs are beautiful. They are often intricately patterened keepsakes. Often times they are heirlooms passed down from generation to generation. I see piles of well kept kerchiefs in antique stores and always think of their stories, the initials embroidered in the corners, the hand-stiched flowers, the laced edges; but I also think of the snot. I know that in fact the purpose of a handkerchief, aside from its pure decorative quality, is that it is a depository for mucus. But never in my life will I be one of those people who curses my allergies into a dainty pocket square. Tissues are disposable, handkerchiefs and their detailed beauty are not.