i am here

it's fourth year folks...over the past four years and now going into my fifth of back to school madness...i finally got to register for my fourth year classes and slowly see a small speck of light at the end of this...most days i wonder what I'm doing...occassionally i wonder if I have it in me...lots of times worry that I'll never finish...it never ends!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
and then today happened...not like it was smooth...with me there always has to be a stupid mistake that i overthink or do not understand...we are supposed to register for the courses with the lowest numbers first to get in right...and then register for clinical courses...well...the clinical course happened to have a lower number...i only got half the instructions in my head...had to phone the registrar...have her talk me through registering (this is my fourth year peeps...you would think i would know by now...) and then I got in...I am in...the next year of my life scholastically is mapped out and I am tired just thinking about it...
there are 22 people who will be very sad this fall...only 112  places were available...and i am one of the 112...hurray...but I can't help feeling for the 22...
and no, it didn't feel anti-climactic at all...i earned every click of the submit button as i saw each class fly up on my schedule...4rth year....BOOM

Dear Dad

I love you.

I love that I'm like you

I just wish it was in the...

gentle, pray pacing, preaching, humble,dependable way

not so much the worry, stresser, anxious way...

to my incredible visionary dad

happy your day today.

in one week

7 days ago...

I was told there could be a 1 in 5 chance i wasn't getting in to 4rth year classes...

I was still in summer school writing about such things as empathy...and experiencing none.

I had no summer renter for two months...

I was alone in the house not sleeping cause all my roomates had either left or were on a trip...this means all nights where I listen to my neighbours get drunk...

tonight.

got a ticket to register for june 20 into fourth year...we'll see how smooth it goes but just getting a ticket is so amazing...feel like i won the lottery or something

am done summer classes

got a roomate for those two months of summer...

got home to find my portugese neighbours cleaning up my yard and telling me all those plants i hadn't pulled cause i thought they might be flowers...were not flowers...then they showed me their garden...

have someone in the house finally so i can sleep....


worries -10
peace +5 ( 5 is good for me...usually i think I am about a 2)
life=just remembered I didn't plan ahead for father's day...epic fail...Dad, my email will be heartfelt and it's coming.

goodnite.

Dear Linds

Once upon a time...along summer ago...you baked me and Alex amazing chocolate chip cookies...I remember being like, that is one family recipe I must get off Linds, and so I asked and you told me,something like, "Oh there nothing really, super easy and the recipe...it's off the chipits bag"...I was shocked, still am...that such a wonderful secret is so well...not secret.
Now, today, I am off to a baby shower...what do I decide to being....yup. the perfect cookie. Off I go to the store to buy a chipits bag and all the ingredients...this is foreshadowing that I actually have very few baking nessessities at home...come home to finally bake these wonder cookies which I am trusting, as you said, are a sinch...
half-way through mixing the dough I wanted to call you and ask if your dough keeps breaking apart and not sticking together....why is it not sticking together?cookies are sticky...why do mine crumble? but then I thought, naahhh these are a sinch, so I poured in the chipits and prepared to bake them...
I could blame the consistancy on the fact that I had no proper measuring cups...I googled the mls measuring amount of 1 cup and found it to be the equivalent of a small sour cream container, which I dug out of the plastic container drawer to use, so really I don't think I messed up there-250mls equals 250 mls...then again I just eye-balled the half-cup measurements...but these are a sinch to make right? so it should be fine.
Anyway,
The first batch were just practise...I put three on a pan and when they were done (10-12 minutes) they still hadn't 'melted' you know when the cookies melt as they cook and spread out over the surface area of the pan and when you make them too closed together or too big they grow into eachother....yeah, that melt....well it never happened...my cookies look like little domes...thick....kinda scary.
then, I was waiting for the second batch to melt...and they burnt! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
sinch, easy, nothing really...those words dancing in my little oblivious head got replace with...i suck.
my roomate came home sometime during this whole episode, ate a burnt cookie, told me it still tasted okay.
now I am done, surrounded by a pile of little scary domes....the non-melty kind in a variety of colors....
I could blame it on the pans from the salvation army that are about the same age as this 1940's house I live in...I could blame it on the oven, the heat was uneven and not able to melt the cookies...maybe there was a typo on my chipits bag....seriously....but the fact of the matter is, I can't make melty cookies...

Sewage saga

I am not an honest person by nature, I have learnt the hard way that saying what the other person wants to hear and what actually is...is different. This has taken most of my adult life to sort out...but I always seem to fall back on the whole...they really don't want to hear this...and then misunderstandings and mudslinging ensues...speaking of mud...or sludge...or basically 'death' courtesy of my basement...where was I? oh, right...my small attempt to realign the forces of sewageness and repare the blasted clog had failed, I was upstairs blogging in the corner of my bed crying...after awhile some of my roomates came home...one by one I greeted them with...there is dragon poop in our basement and I had to touch it, confessing i also cried but adding the tragic twist of...and theres more...more...so much more of it to deal with...all my roomates were dooly shocked and might I say awed by my bravery at touching said dragon excrement, super supportive and then one of my roomies planned a 'lets do it all together' sewage clean-up party for tonight...because apparently it's not as bad when we do it all together. this party is an open invitation by the way...
anyway, before all this, I was going to update my landlord on the nature of our drain... but I just couldn't, for some reason I just wanted him to think everything was great and there was no dragon in the basement...and poor landlord was probably wondering why rent to single girls...so I finally had to update him, and the kind landlord was really understanding...I also phoned almost every plumber asking for estimates once I got the go ahead to clean the drain professionally...so basically every plumber in town has my phone number...that 'can you give me an estimate on sewage line cleaning' is a great conversation starter...there are so many things I never wanted to find out during this whole escapade....but now that I've shared all my sewage issues...it doesnt quite seem so scary, the dragon has left the building...and now I just need to clean up his mess...also i think my roomates will be extra happy that I was honest, cause now there will ba a party tonight...minus the sewage clean-up part

i hate this

the basement drain has been flooding when we do laundry...it's gross, i notice, all my roomates notice, but since i am the 'main' person...i don't do anything, no one does anything...i call the plumber, explain the problem, he says he can't come, and to clean the drain...by self...he says it will save me money...i think, well thats gross, but i am the main person, I can rise above this, and actually I hate having handy-men here...i hate the mts dudes, i hate the dishwasher genius, the roofers are a whole other trial...I just don't like having strangers all over the house doing whatever they want and me being...me..."Now, ma'am can you tell me your internet password?" techie person asks...
"No, I can't remember it...sorry, I'll call my roomate...ummmm...soorry..." he rolls his eyes...
what I really wanted to say was..."I entered the password a year ago into my computer and it's automatic now, why in the world would I keep the original paper with the password for when the internet gets disconnected...this is the first world, the internet should NOT disconnect!"
so now, back to the plumber who won't come and me with a coat hanger, to unplug the drain...the metal coat hanger is alot harder to bend out of shape than they let you think...took me a full 15 minutes to figure out I am the weakest person alive...finally I am ready to open the drain and inspect the damage...
apparently a dragon poops in our basement.
the foulest most odeous looking sludge greated me...the pure heinousness of it made me gag...and I am pretty good with smells...
i never got to the coat hanger part...i just started crying and ran upstairs....i am still crying and hating the fact that i have to go back down there...and deal with the sludgge of death...and maybe I will put it off one more day, until I by a face mask or something...I hate this so much...my nose hairs hurt, I am sure some of them singed right off it was so horrid

Grauuughghghghghghghghghg

sometimes i go alittle crazy...today i relearned about misogeny...the greek teaching that women are highly irrational creatures, and far inferior to men...they have their place. But still...so lacking...the origin of the word hysterical...all relating to the presence of the womb...in a females body...and the fact that for many years women wore amulets of their womb around their necks so their womb would not go wandering...and so when I say...it's not me, it's my womb...it is based on highly intellectual minds like Hippocrates...and the fact that women are curiosities unto themselves as much as anyone else...and now I must go in search of my womb, for I fear it has wandered away...womb, womb...where for art thou womb?????