This is Gonna Be Good...I Can Tell

Yesterday was Spaghetti Tuesday, and let me tell you it was a complete success.

Two long lost friends came to the house to celebrate our arrival to the Big City. Usually on Spaghetti Whatever Day it may be (we don't set a specific day to eat the spaghetti), we just have spaghetti. No salad. No bread. No "beverages." No dessert. It's filler food that we don't need because it's all about the spaghetti. Sound a little crazy? Maybe, but it works for us.

So back to the story. Yesterday two friends came by to join in the spaghetti-eating ritual that takes place once a week at my house. Logan brought Skinny Girl margaritas (YUM), salad and cheesy bread. Zach made a homemade key lime pie. Needlesstosay, it was all delicious. But one thing stood out above the rest.

There was some serious quality friend time happening. And it was too great. We talked about a lot of random things and laughed about all the crazy things the roommate has done throughout her life. I use to think her actions came out of nowhere, but now I know it has taken years of practice to become so gifted in her own ways.

For example, numerous stories were told of her in first grade. One that stands out the most deals with tornadoes, given the fact that Arkansas has been through a lot of those lately.

Apparently when the roommate and Logan were in first grade, there was a tornado that came through Stuttgart. They were at another girl's house whose mom freaked out so much that she made them put their heads under the couch. The roommate was so freaked out by everything that instead of laying with her head under the couch like she was told, she laid next to the couch leaving little to no room for everyone else to put their heads under the couch.

Honestly, I can just see her now doing the same exact thing. She marches to her own beat, which is what makes her so hilarious.

Other stories were told and drinks were sipped. And it was just a great night. I have every hope that this move to Little Rock was the best decision I could have made. I already feel so much happier. Like the zest of life is coming back. With only two more weekends of doing homework, a girl can get pretty excited about the upcoming summer and the good friends to share it with. Here's to the next chapter. Ching. Ching.

Until next time...

The Last Commute

What a glorious day this is. It would be absolutely perfect if it were not rainy and cold here in Little Rock. But nothing can really steal my good mood because I'm moving Saturday, which is a day away since we don't count today or the actual day we move so it is just tomorrow.

I have a big fear that it will rain and our furniture will get all wet. I just want to get everything in without anyone getting hurt. Hauling furniture up three flights of stairs will be interesting because the stairwells are super narrow. But nobody's upset because we're finally moving.

As I was driving to work this morning, I realized I would not have to make this trip again unless I just wanted to. Huge realization. I am leaving the town I've lived in for 5 years. A little part of me is kind of sad. I am going to miss all the familiar surroundings of my college town. Of my college life. I made so many memories there.

But I'm still excited about starting new in the Big City. I can't wait to see what happens. It should be interesting and fun and scary. But all around good for me.

A small story sidenote: A lady is here (at my job) doing a training session for a formative evalution, which is a fancy word for keeping up with progress. And she is from India. Yep, that's right. India.

I love a good accent, and I have perfected a British accent thanks to the trip to Great Britian and many watchings of Bridget Jones's Diary. But Indian is slowly becoming my favorite.

So the lady is here giving a training session, making feel like I'm in class. She talked a lot about surveys, and it was a lot the first semester of grad school over again. Not the best thing to listen to in an early morning meeting. But then I caught a break.

She started talking about participants. Participants pronounced partypants. It was too much. I had to hold back a giggle. Participants will never be the same to me again. Loved it.

So thank you partypating in today's blog. I am so glad you are my partypants. You guys rock. Keep it classy. Have a great day.

Until next time...

Three Things

1.  I MOVE IN 5 DAYS! So basically we don't count today because it's already here so it's really 4 days. The packing is coming along thanks to the roommate. She's done a bang-up job putting our belongings in boxes. So much so that last night we got into 16 mini-psuedoarguments over how best to pack up the "junk drawer." She calls it modge podge, and I say hodge podge or junk. No worries. All is well. There is nothing like verbal snaps between friends during a packing session. It makes for a better friendship.

2. My current lack of motivation is a little upsetting. I have had little to no motivation to complete anything. I have started to resent UALR and all that it is. I don't want to do assignments or write papers. I just want to read books I want to read, blog about stuff I like, go to work, hang out with friends and lounge by my soon-to-be new pool. Anyone have any recommendations on how best to tackle my current lack of motivation? Advice is much needed.

3. I've been having weird dreams lately. So weird that I want not to share the details. Usually I'm so tired that I don't dream at all. But the past few nights my imagination has been crazy. I blame school and the lack of a social life. Hopefully, I will get back to the normal no dream status that I usually am. Hopefully.


I'll keep you posted on the upcoming week and all that it has planned for me. And I will be sure to share all that pops up that was unplanned. Have a great week, fellow blog lovers. I'll be seeing ya.

Until next time...

Celebrate

Yesterday, I set three goals. Two of which didn't get done. But one did. And that would be the dreaded original research paper for my historical methods class. Nothing about that sentence sounds fun, and trust me it wasn't. I'm just thrilled that it is actually written.

So basically no packing got done, and I didn't really sleep because my brain would not shut off. How many times do I have to tell myself to go to sleep, and then the next thing I know I'm off thinking about what so-in-so is doing or when I will have time to work on this assignment or what is happening at work this week. The question is how do you tell your brain to shut up? It would be helpful to know the answer...any thoughts?

And the cherry on top of this week's stress is a fever blister. It's still very small right now, but that doesn't mean that my whole face won't swell up later. No kidding, it runs in the family. Sigh. So I'm going to have to nip that in the bud for sure.

So here is what my week looks like as of today:

For school: prepare for oral presentation in media theory class, revise and perfect my research paper to be turned in, and start on a PR Case study for the online class from hell.

For work: take photos, write stories, find statistics, design letter templates, develop newsletter, take more photos, and look for new story ideas

For moving: PACK EVERYTHING that can be packed.

On a lighter note, we will be signing our lease at our new apartment today. We have picked a cable service provider so now I have to set up an account. I have to call Entergy to set up an account. Oh, and pack stuff. It should be totally awesome.

I am still super excited about moving to Little Rock. No more driving. No more fighting commuter traffic and feeling like I've been beaten every morning on the way to work. (I'm basically tired when I get there.) No more missing out on the fun stuff that happens because I live in Conway.

And the moving also means I'm one step closer to being out of school for summer. Deep breath. And go.

Hope you guys have an awesome work week. Got big plans for the weekend? What's going on? Want to come pack a box while I read and type stuff? Maybe?

Until next time...

A Ton of Bricks

It has officially hit me. I'm moving in two weeks. My paper is due a week from Thursday. I have two other papers to write, oral presentations to give, revision to make and bags and boxes to pack. EEEKKK!!!! And this necessary freak out stems from a letter shoved between my doorjamb.

How nice of the apartment complex to stick a checklist of what needs to be done to the box before we move out. Just what I needed. A little extra stress. Basically we have to clean everything, which is not surprising. But was is surprising is that everything includes the under and behind of the fridge, washer, dryer and water heater. Not complaining, just a little shocked at the size of the job.

I also have to figure out what cable provider we will be using, set up an account with Entergy, coordinate my family members coming to help out with the move, and do school. DOUBLE EEEKKK!!!

I just hit me like a ton of bricks. We move in two weeks. I've got so much to do still for school. How will it all work? What will I look like once school is over and the move is complete? I am so looking forward to the days of lounging by the pool with a book of my choice that has nothing to do with Arkansas history. Gosh, it will be so great. But getting there is the challenge.

I have officially written 15 pages of the 18-25 page original research paper. What it looks like/reads like, I have no idea. I'm sure it will lack the necessary transitions to make for a smooth read, and I bet there will be too many quotes and citations. But it will be done.

Goal numero uno of the day: Finish rough draft of paper...so the revising/rewriting can start ASAP.

Goal numero dos of the day: Pack some boxes...because we're moving.

Goal numero tres of the day: Take some time to unwind the mind...hopefully I can get some serious sleep.

I hope you guys had a nice weekend and got to do fun things. I did get to see the family for a short while and eat the best cake in the world. So that means it was a success. Catch ya on the flip side.

Until next time...

My Daily Happenings

My stress level has been exceedingly high the past few weeks. I blame this.

Stress-maker number uno: Books for the media theory paper I am trying to write. By trying I mean I wrote six pages and have no idea what I was talking about. So this paper should be interest. You are looking at a total of 20 books: 18 from the UALR library and 2 from a UCA professor trying to help me out.

Stressor numero dos: This is the current state of my kitchen table. Needlesstosay, my 900 sq. ft. box can't take this kind of clutter. And I can't do anything about it until the second paper, a 25-page original research paper is complete Not sure how many books make up the "context" of this paper. But that black portable filing thing is FULL of newspaper article and editorials from June through November of 1966. I'm such a historian.

As of the 23rd of this month, we will be moving. And this is the only box I have packed. I figured I wouldn't be playing Mad Gab until the above items are taken care of. And nobody uses an actual dictionary anymore since dictionary.com came along. There are about 30 empty boxes taking up residence at the box. And I have no time to deal with them.

So there you go. A brief look into my life and today's daily happenings. Tomorrow will be totally different because I have to work. Sigh. Pray that the boxes get packed and the papers get written. Time to hit the books.

Stay classy, bloggies. (Couldn't help it. Anchorman was on last night. LOVE. IT.)

Until next time...

Approved!

It's official. I have been approved to move April 23rd. Hands down it will be the best day ever. My roommate and I are so pumped to move. The place we live in now is just not right for us. We named it The Box.

That is just not something you want to go home to after a long hard day of school and work. The thing is we went about it all wrong.

After freshman year of college, we moved into a house. An amazing house. It was oh so perfect. Three bedroom, two bathrooms. Big kitchen. Garage. Big lawn. Good neighborhood. Patio. Stained-concrete floors. Perfect. I loved everything about that house.

After graduating college, we downsized to a 900 square foot apartment. Two bedroom. One Bathroom. No lawn. No patio. Smallest dishwasher ever made in the history of all the dishwasher (most of our cups have to lay on their sides). No extra storage. And people on the top floor that have hooves.

I don't think I have ever talked about David and Tina David. They are my upstairs neighbors who were born with hooves. I have no idea what their actual names are, but David and Tina David work for me. I do know they are a recently married couple who moved into the box above mine about the exact time we move there.

David is a tall, gangly fellow. And Tina David is a short, slight girl. No sign of hooves at first glance, but they gallop back and forth every night for hours on end. I don't understand how two people can walk so much in a 900 sqaure foot box.

The sad part about it is I can tell which one is which by their gaits. Tina stomps. Everywhere she goes she stomps. It is a fast-paced stomp. Like the balls of her feet never get the chance to hit the ground because she is too busy stomping with her heels. Hands down the most awful sound ever.

David is quite a bit tall than Tina so his gait is less frequent. His heels hit the ground a tab bit softer than hers. Sometimes when he is home alone, I can't hear him walk about. But if Tina is home, girl is walking. Stomping. Slamming cabinet doors. Washing 01391938 loads of clothes. And taking 985720487 showers and baths.

I swear those people bathe more than any person I know. Reason I know they bathe often: Every time their water turns on I can it hear it when I am in the bathroom, and I can hear it in my bedroom because the drain runs down my bedroom wall. And they usually take a shower right as I am about to fall asleep.

This issue with the Davids has gotten so bad that we have tried to let them know we hate their hooves. First we started lightly throwing a tennis ball at the ceiling. That didn't work. Now we stand on the kitchen counter and beat on the ceiling with our hands or some other object that will make a loud noise.

I think the message finally got through to them. Because one day not that long ago, I was beating on the ceiling with a tupperware bowl, and Tina beat back. She intentionally stomped on me. At first I was seeing red. But then I calmed down, and Tina kinda calmed down after that. But they are still stomping and loud as ever.

I know beating on the ceiling isn't the best way to solve the problem, but then it wouldn't be a good story. Asking her to quit is not as interesting as have a hate war with the upstairs neighbors. All I can say is April 23rd can't get here soon enough. No one will walk above me anymore. It will be the ultimate.

Until next time...

Go Big or Go Home

A few good things have come about this weekend that need to be shared. The sickness has died down thanks to a doctor visit and prescibed medication. While I'm not totally healed, I would say 90 percent is better than last week's 30 percent. This should mean a more productive work week. So congratulations...no more sick posts and me being whiny.

BIG HUGE THING: This girl is moving to the big city. Little Rock better get ready for me. I am so excited to say that it is almost official---pending paperwork evaluation. I have been commuting for six months now. As I have said before, it is for the birds. Still not sure how a 25 minute drive can turn into an hour. But that is another rant for another day.

As of April 23, I will no longer be a resident of Conway, AR. I will be living the life in West Little Rock with access to everything I could ever need. Library. School. Work. Fine Dining. Mountain Climbing. Nightlife (when there's time). And I am sure other things that have not been brought to my attention yet.

I am so excited that I could practically burst. Just blow up. Explode. Once we get settled, I will post pictures of the new place with all its fine amenities. Hopefully, I will hear back from them in just a short while because the waiting game is killer. Patience is not one of my finer qualities. It is something I have to work on every day.

While I am uber-excited about moving, the actual move itself is another story. There is nothing I dread more, especially since the new place is on the third floor. This fact will make for a not-so-thrilled Dad when move in day rolls around.

My bedroom furniture is a little extravagant. Four post bed with tall, skinny, long dresser. Average bedside table. You get the general idea. Beautiful to look at, but a pain to move. During this last move, we had to take it completely apart. I am was a nervous wreck about it, but it simply had to be done. This time will be even more interesting---hence the three flights of stairs, narrow stairwells, and  a dad whose hobby isn't moving.

Pray for me.

Last thing on the agenda: a boy.

Three years ago, I ended a relationship. While the end was horrible and painful, it was necessary. We two people did not go together, and we kept trying to find ways to make it work. But it was just broken. So we ended it after a 6 month period of torturing each other. It was like the break-up that wouldn't end. It turned out to be more painful for me because I was more emotionally invested in it. I lost that relationship along with many mutual friendships made during the course of its two years.

During my recovery time, which I like to call the Dark Days, I was a complete wreck mess. True story. I didn't want to go anywhere, do anything, hang out with anymore, nothing. I didn't trust anyone, especially boys. Every boy turned into my kryptonite.

I dove into a new major that semester of the Dark Days, and I started meeting new people. People with like interests. One of those being writing. I met a guy during this recovery time. I liked him a lot as a person. He was someone I really enjoyed. We laughed a lot---probably one of few people who could get a laugh out of me during that time. But we were both not in good places in our lives.

I was completely messed up from the relationship that wouldn't end. I was totally hung up on my ex and what was happening with that. It was not a good situation. This boy was shy and not sure of himself, even though I could see there was a big personality in there dying to get out.

Well this boy asked me out. Not just once, but multiple times. And I said no. Not once, but multiple times. Every time to be exact. And then it kind of just fizzled out. I'm sure I was very persistent in avoiding him at all cost. I was 19 and stupid. He quit asking me out, quit sending me texts, quit asking me just to hang out. He just quit. And I let him quit.

The point? I am now fully recovered from the Dark Days, and he is doing life. We are both completely different people now than we were then. Completely different. As I recovered, I kept up with him on the side by reading his blogs. Creepy? Yeah--maybe a little. He has done some awesome stuff with his life.

And I guess I've always kind of wondered what it would have been like had I not said no and been so scared to trust him. But I can't go back, only forward. I recently read that he's been working on a book proposal and has now finished it.

I don't know what happened, but something in my mind clicked and said "Contact him." Well I, of course, ignored it, but it became a reoccuring thought. The thing about reoccuring thoughts is that they should be acted on. I feel like it's God's way of telling me to do something.

So last night, I finally did it. I sent him a Facebook message since I don't have his phone number anymore. I told him Congrats for finishing the book proposal. And that it was a big deal. I hinted at what I was doing now. And just tried to keep in light and friendly because for all I know he could hate me.

I felt instantly better about it. The nagging urge to make contact was subsided, but my anxiety of if he would respond took its place. Now let's get this one MAJOR thing straight: I am not expecting anything to come of it. I just want to be friends. Am I hopeful? Yes, ever hopeful and optimistic. But expectant? No, he has every right to not say anything at all.

As I said, I just want us to be on friendly terms again. Just establish some kind of relationship...and see what happens. Friendship is a beautiful perfect thing, and I would really love to re-get-to-know-him. Because as I said, we are completely different people now.

If it turned into something else, then it would be a whole other thing. Let's just say I would be open-minded, unlike the first time. So here's to hoping and dreaming big. I felt like this was completely necessary to say because 1) I needed to own up to it, 2) I would have forever lived with what if I never say it and he never knows, and 3) when he does know, he can act on it however he chooses---Worst case senario- Things stay the same as they are now.

If you don't take chances, you never know. So there it is. Ever hopeful, never expectant.

Until next time...