bermuda, bahama, come on pretty mama

Well I spoke too damn soon about the coming of spring. Last weekend we got hit with a really nasty ice storm that knocked out our power Saturday night. The view outside our balcony was unbelievably bleak and depressing. Lounging around by candlelight and firelight is awfully nice, but still. Worst. Winter. Ever.

Also, Last. Winter. Ever. I will never force myself to endure another Midwestern winter.

My advisor continues to drive me crazy. Life continues to smack me around. But I don’t care. Because Husband to Be and I are going to the Bahamas over Spring Break. We found a really cheap deal online, which means a cheap hotel (that’s scheduled to be demolished soon in order to make way for bigger and better resorts, whee!) and I have no doubt Nassau will be swarming with college nuggets, but I don’t care. I don't know if I've ever needed a little R 'n R more than I do now. For two full days I will sit on beautiful beaches, soak up sun, drink fruity drinks, and forget that winter and grad school exist. It’s going to rock my face off.

fuck it, fight it, it's all the same

As a psychology nerd, one of my favorite concepts is regression to the mean, used when talking about statistics and also used to describe sports slumps. If you apply it to life, it just reiterates the idea that nothing stays very good or very bad for long. Everything eventually returns to baseline. That’s a no-brainer but I find it immensely comforting that this is a quantitative phenomenon. It’s science. (Uttered in my best Will Ferrell voice. Which is terrible.)

Lately, with the exception of Husband to Be, nearly every area of my life has sucked and nearly every important person in my life has been letting me down. It’s been craptastic.

I’ve been down too far to care for too long and even though a lot of the things that have been bringing me down haven’t changed, at least I’m less mopey about them.

Sadly enough, an upswing in the temperature has a lot to do with that. It’s been a brutally cold February, with below zero temps for days at a time so when it hits the 40s and 50s, it’s reason to celebrate. The White Witch’s power is waning and everything is melting.

I hate the heaviness of winter – eating heavier foods, the weight of being covered from head to toe for almost every minute of the day, sleeping under several layers of blankets, the grey and the dark all drag me down.

It’s really warped that a 40 degree day back home in Texas would feel painfully cold but here it feels like 60 and as the temp approaches 50, I drive with my window down and seriously contemplate busting out the flip flops. A little sunshine on my face, actually breathing in fresh air and not having to run from car to building for fear of frostbite and other painful things, these little things make me feel more like me and less like a zombie.

Other good things:

Really excellent tacos at a bodega downtown. Good Mexican food is a very rare commodity in these parts, so that’s a happy. After dinner I had to restrain myself from buying a piñata and contented myself with some 89 cent chocolate wafer cookies and a bottle of Mexicoke. Yum.

Another drunken, fun filled mass screening of the Big Lebowski, complete with White Russians and the most amazing flourless chocolate cake. Drool.

Sonic and skeeball. ‘Nuff said.

Splurging on a facial. When I was sitting in the spa waiting room, painted in soothing colors and with tinkly Zen state inducing music playing, I had to laugh when I noticed the view through the window - the psych building, my primary source of stress.

Despite my fear of baking and a failed first attempt where my meringue wouldn’t meringue, I successfully made these yummy meringue chocolate chip cookies, recipe courtesy of my fave food blog.

valentine the destroyer

You know, one of these days I will figure out to install an mp3 player here because I’d love to share “Valentine”, one of my favorite Old 97s songs.

I know I keep going too long without posting but I’ve been adhering to a “If I can’t write anything more nuanced than just simple moping/complaining about how kicked in the shins I feel these days, than don’t write” rule.

I’ve been mostly mopey (i.e., life sucks) but today a little grumpy (i.e., people suck), which is a change for me, but still not ideal. I am not pro-people today of all days. A cupcake is one of the few things that could have de-grumpified me and I was denied even that. It’s ungodly cold here for half the year AND I don’t have a reliable cupcake supplier. So ready to be somewhere else!

Husband to Be and I already used V-day as an excuse to have a really nice dinner last Saturday. We went to this tiny little tapas place downtown and enjoyed candlelight, sangria, baked chevre, bacon wrapped dates, and paella. It had been far too long since we went out for a romantic dinner.

And tonight, after the gym, we’ll reward ourselves with these beauties.

dancin' shoes

And we have a contender! I don't care if it makes me a walking stereotype, I am ridiculously excited about finding these shoes on Zappo's. After months of scouring all the shoe sites and ordering and returning things, I'd just about given up hope on finding cute green sandals for the wedding. I bought some cute, dyeable flip flops and was sort of resigned to wearing them, but in a stroke of luck, after reading a post on Weddingbee about shoes, I did the umpteenth search on Zappo's and these were the first pair to pop up. I know I should contain my enthusiasm until I get them and try them on, but they're so me! And so green!

I've been feeling so down, so I will take happiness in whatever shape and size it comes, including a cute pair of shoes!

Update: I frackin' love Zappo's. It took me five seconds to find the shoes and two seconds to order them last night, and they're already here. And I love them! They're cute and sassy and vintage looking and ridiculously, gloriously Technicolor green and cause "Dancin' Queen" to get stuck in my head. Huzzah!

knowing when to fold 'em

Man, this blog could really use some fun and frivolity about now. It’s not as if I’ve been doing nothing but stressing out 24/7, although there’s been a lot of that. There’s also been
going to see Second City and drinking and board games and pigging out in front of the Super Bowl and friends walking over and having brunch, with yummy waffles and bacon and quiche, courtesy of AB’s easiest quiche recipe ever.

Except for wishing that the big day was already here and pining for beautiful beaches, I have nothing to complain about in regards to wedding planning and will not complain, because I get to marry the love of my life in a tropical paradise, boo-fucking-hoo. However glacially, we’re making progress with our caterer and he seems to be able to deliver everything we want. Sushi! Gelato! Huzzah!

But on the angst front, for the umpteenth and final time, I am considering quitting. It’s one month into my last semester of my sixth year and I still don’t have an approved prospectus. In layman terms, I’m screwed. It wouldn’t be impossible to finish up this summer, but it’s beginning to feel pretty close to it. Part of me very much wants to get the degree and part of me is ready to lay down my burdens and get off the hamster wheel, to stop pretending that I’m Ph.D material.

What is it anyway, three letters after my name? They’re not the key to happiness. Would I be disappointed at walking away with only a Master’s after six years of work and misery and debt? Yea. But I might also feel really free to get on with life.

Honestly, it feels a lot like when I made the decision to end my last relationship. I stuck with it longer than I should have because I kept thinking things would get better and that I shouldn’t give up, shouldn’t be a quitter. It took time to realize that it wasn’t being a quitter, it was making the choice to do what was best for me and extricate myself from something unhappy. And after some grieving, there was an immense feeling of liberation and relief.

Whatever decision I make, I know that Husband to Be is behind me completely (squeezing my butt, as he always says). I wish I could say the same of my dad, who I know will go ballistic if I don't finish, but what can I do? Life and family are never perfect.

Will she or won’t she? Stay tuned.

top douche is more like it

After my last post, I felt behooved to stop bitching about life for a while, hence the silence. I still believe that wedding stuff will all work itself out and that even if I don't finish getting the Ph.D, life will go on and I'll be fine, but I've still been strung out with stress. I'm just at a very sharp point in my life and Husband to Be and I are both feeling the strain of being so busy and having so much converging in our lives in a short period of time.

More later, but man, I can't believe that Ilan is Top Chef. He's such an asshat (My favorite snippet ever from Urban Dictionary is "An assclown may wear an asshat". Genius.) And I totally want to go back to Hawaii. Maui was amazing and I'd love to explore the other islands. I need a vacation in the worst way.