Paleography project is printed out and ready to be turned in. One document is awesome and the other is awful. I do not care. Okay I'm lying through my teeth because there is a little part of me that is very angry that I was not able to beat this thing into submission. But I am tired and simply cannot pull anything else out of this. I am just auditing the class. This is not a big deal.

Quiz tonight before I can finally kick back for the rest of the month. A month that will involve a little a bit of paleography, but only a very little bit.

It's December! I mean yes I know we just finished Thanksgiving and I went to Target for ornaments today but OMG! December!

PS NECA Jacob action figure was hanging out in the dollar bins. Clearly Team Edward had stormed the store. Sadly I couldn't find the display so I could ogle the Alice figure. She have a lot of fun with Blanche designing clothes and emailing Chaucer

Making myself put aside the paleography for the night so I can get some sleep. It'll still be there in the morning. Those little bolded and underlined notes taunting me in my transcriptions. "You don't know what we are. You don't know what we are."

Mom is puttering in the kitchen while I'm watching Food Network rand glances up at the current commercial. "I am not buying you a kindle this year."

"Well good because I don't want one."

"Really? .. she says surprised." Why not?"

"I like books."

"Are you making a statement?"

"No, I just like books."

"You like trees so much you want them on your bookshelves."

"Exactly."

"Have a forest in your house."

It's all fine and good to wear your loosest fitting pants on Thanksgiving, but your stomach will only expand so far and never far enough. Granted if it extended any farther I'd be on my third helping of dressing and gravy. I planned to be good and not have the second helping, but you can never plan on the turkey:dressing ratio to work out correctly.

We had a really simple lunch today with my paternal grandparents. Turkey, dressing, and three vegetable sidedishes with Nana bringing an apple pie. Although you wouldn't think we had planned such a simple get together from all the cleaning I've done this month. I doubt that anyone really inspected the grout to see just how well I scrubbed or how the wood floors gleamed. And I know for certain that no one removed cushions from the sofa to investigate my dusting of parts that don't show. So yeah, I probably went over board but at least the idea that there is hidden dust all over the house won't bother me until March.

There was sleep last night. Sleep! Glorious sleep that lasted until the nine o'clock hour this morning. Good thing all I needed to do today was sit down with paleography and do some laundry.

Now back to work and convincing Paige that is is really not supper time.

If anyone has lost a case of insomnia I would be happy to mail it back to you post haste. I'm suddenly being bombarded with strange sleeping patters. Saturday evening was full of bad dream, Sunday night featured very little sleeping, as did last night. And in order to clinch the insomnia of Sunday I spent all of Monday not only blissfully alone, but scrubbing the kitchen, mopping and wiping down bathrooms, and going outside to wash the windows, thinking that maybe if I tired myself out I would actually sleep. Sometime after 12am I was still bolt awake but featuring cramped fingers from prying screens out of place. On the other hand, the windows look fabulous.

(Incidentally, why is there this running theme of housewives who hate washing windows or maids who deadpan "I don't do windows"? I mean granted, you don't have Windex but have to clean every individual pane with a rag and a bucket of water, but I think windows would be a breeze. You think doing laundry is easier? Particularly without an automatic washer-dryer? Gathering the water to wash, scrubbing by hand on a wash board, hanging clothes out to dry, waiting for them to dry, starching, ironing, mending, putting clothes away. After that list I would not only volunteer to wash the windows but I would hum a happy tune while doing so.)

I think part of the insomnia relates to the fact that I don't have the end of term stress that I have religiously experienced for the past six years. I mean, yes I still have work to complete on my paleography project. A lot of work. But it's not the same as writing papers for multiple classes where I only end up with four hours of sleep a night, but those are good hours. Right now my brain is all, "Um, it's November. I'm not scheduled for rest until 3am. Let's write something!"

"But Brain", I plead. "There is nothing to write about. Or at least nothing that can't wait."

"Okay! Then let's obsess over something instead."

"But."

*brain prattles on*

I will be very glad when the semester is over.

Just got back from my first Christmas shopping expedition. This is way earlier than I like to get started but, super special emailed discounts being what they are, let's get some of it knocked out.

So after almost scratching off Cameron from my list and picking up a pair of inexpensive brown moccasins for me. A year ago I was wandering through Aldo where a woman was buying this ugly striped leather bag at a discount. Apparently she had a similar, although far more expensive, ugly leather bag that she was afraid of ruining. So her solution was to pick up this Aldo bag which looked similar but who cares if it sustained a few scratches because it's not like she would be out a mortgage payment. And all the time I'm thinking, What's the point of having the ugly expensive bag if you are too afraid to actually use it like a hand bag. Just be careful. And this was tote which was obviously meant for everyday use. And make the general population think you were colorblind. [/flashback] I have a pair of nice brown Ettiene Algiers loafers but are rather scuffed around the toe to the point that I rarely wear them, out of fear that the area will spontaneously disentegrate. Eventually I'll get them repaired, but in the meantime I'll just rely on my new moccasins that can get scuffed and I won't really care.

So yes, I'm judgemental and don't follow my own advice but at least I don't have an ugly purse.

Dad came over this morning with Hardees and now he and Cameron are working in the yard. I have a pretty sizable to do list to take care of today. Woodchuck this afternoon if I get it all accomplished.

Facebook's Farmville Gets Users to Pay for Play I personally don't play it and have notices blocked on my feed, but I understand why people get hooked on the game. I spent a summer playing Puzzle Pirates but balked at the subscription fee.

The Most Popular Christmas Toys, By Year Since 1960 It's funny how many of those toys still see a resurgence in popularity. Trolls were really popular in the early 90s as were Easy Bake Ovens, Lite-Brites, and Connect Four. I did have a Cabbage Patch doll, but that was from an aunt who most certainly did not experience a mad rush to buy one. Come to think of it I think they sold kits to make a doll and that's what she did.

It's a festering skankfest of zombies, Clancy!

Men Who Glare at Stoats How Ich have missed yow.

Fussy goes to a bunny festival

Lost in Translation: How does interpretation work at the United Nations?

Dear Self,

I am ever so sorry that I insisted we click through page after page of horrible fashion choices of people shopping in Wal-mart. No one needs to look at that many people shopping in their underwear.

With deepest apologies,

Colleen

"Gah! One set of eye lashes is fine but the other is too heavy and has clumps! I have no time to fix this. I know, I'll make the one that is fine a little heavier so they'll at least match."

Genius!

There's just something about going into Starbucks to order a regular cup of coffee that makes me feel like a cantankerous old man. It's not the price, which compared to the rest of the menu items is a comolete steal, but rather the process involved. An amazing creature the Starbucks barista. Has the ability to take dozens of complicated drink orders in rapid succession. "Double grande cappuccino!" "Grande iced coffee!" "Venti light caramel frappacino!" (And just who are you fooling with that light business honey?) But try asking for a tall coffee and you just get lost in the shuffle. And when they do produce the much requested java, they never remember to leave room for milk in order to take the temperature to something below scalding.

Suffering from both The Crud and Period. When their powers combine I am Captain Exhausted.

Temperature finally cooperating and has dropped down to the 60s/50s. Sareliz teased me last night about my sensitivity to the cold. She went for a walk last night in Buffalo and was surprised that some of her neighbors had their fireplaces going. Meanwhile Floridians break out the fire wood as soon as the temperature hits the 40s. Delicate hothouse blooms that we are.

After delaying work by washing my car I worked through a page from my paleography project before calling it quits for the day. I'm procrastinating way too much on this project considering that class will be over in the first week of November, but we've altered my tutoring schedule to free up some stress so I should start making better progress.

Ever so slowly working my way through Antonia Fraser's Mary, Queen of Scots. I've just completed Part 1 which details the political situation in Scotland when she was born, her life in France, and the decision to leave France for Scotland after she was widowed. It really is an excellent piece of research which is why it's taking me so long to get through it. Fraser spends so much time outlining the various political factions in Europe along with the development of Mary's character that I'm induced to sympathy for the queen. (And an inclination to say, "Lizzy why do you have to be such a bitch?") I've really only observed Mary in relation to Elizabeth and the comparisons are always far more favorably inclined towards Elizabeth. Surprise, surprise.

Settling in for what looks like a case of The Crud. It's probably stress induced from the past two weeks of tutoring rather than an actual virus, but still Crud. So intead of doing anything last night I curnled up on the bed for most of the day recovering from the previous night at Kim's house where the incvolved horror was more of the bad movie variety. Interview with the Vampire played in the background and once we saw the scene with the dancing vampire in Paris we had to flip back to the begining to really get our snark on. And after marveling over the fact that there was a Vampire Nail Specialist on the crew we decided to watch Twilight. I had forgotten just how bad that movie is. The makeup was a cross between sloppy and horrifying. You could see patches that were clearly missed and if Robert Pattinson doesn't give enough of an impression that he is going to eat your brains then Peter Facinelli leaves you in no doubt. Agreed upon highlights were Alice who is adorable and awesome, Rosalie's fierce bitchiness, and every expression by Charlie Swan. His face says what we're all thinking.

Other lessons learned: Pumpkin ale is completely overrated and lactose free cheese is surprisingly good.

Horoscope: Today it might make more sense to live the day backwards. First go out and have your fun and then do your chores afterward. It could be frustrating if you attempt to be productive in the morning since the Moon is visiting your 5th House of Play until this afternoon. But when it enters your 6th House of Work you won't be as eager to participate in distracting activities. Grab your chance to start the day in a totally different way.

Apparently I was to have an unproductive morning anyway. Good to know.

After some thinking I've decided that I'm going to prolong the break before the PhD by going into teaching, most likely high school. If you had asked me whether I wanted to pursue this option a month ago I probably would have asked for you to end everything there before the horrific pain really started. You could probably accuse me of being melodramatic and you would be right. After all my father and a cousin teach, along with several friends and they seem to be reasonably well adjusted. I think part of my reluctance was the idea that by delaying or giving up the PhD I would be failing myself and the ideal of who I could be. Like I said. Melodramatic.

(Random Thought: I wonder how a Coke and vanilla schnapps would taste? Could this be the ultimate Vanilla Coke?)

In reality it could be one of my better decisions. I haven't progressed as much as I'd like to begin the application process and I'd rather spend the intervening time doing something productive rather than self-study. The increase in income would contribute greatly to my self-esteem. I could handle my insurance bills and student loan repayments without relying on my parents which would make me feel better about living at home in order to save money for the PhD, or whatever further education I have planned. There are all sorts of stories talking about people who are going back to school while the economy is in the tank because the job market is so terrible. But what is rarely mentioned is the huge cut universities are experiencing in funding which translates to less funding for students. Competition for fully funded positions is fiercer than ever and I refuse to put myself in a position where I would rely heavily on student loans just to survive.

And then there's the simple fact that I'm just burned out and this would be just as much a time for mental and emotional recuperation as financial.

So that's where I am at the moment and I'm pretty happy with the decision. Of course it's going to be quite a bit of work to get me a position, work that I will I can't do today because I'm exhausted from the dream my subconscious cooked up last night. Do you know what is more terrifying than dreaming about birth? NOTHING! Particularly when that someone knows that birth involves pain, more pain, and just when you think that you can never experience a pain worse that the last one YOU DO! And then there is the clipping with scissors because sometimes a woman just can not stretch far enough, and the tearing of skin and the stitching up of said skin, and then you're supposed to get up and take care of a baby! The nerve! And in my dream I'm panicking trying to figure out if there is another way we could get the baby out because I cannot do that. And I'm sorry I led Mom and Dad along all this time that they were going to be grandparents when I really really cannot do this.

This morning the thought occurs to me that I never saw the father of the baby and what is up with that shit? Surely he should have been by my side so I could hurl verbal abuse at him?

Went off with Grandmother for haircuts and lunch yesterday. I've bemoaned the state of my split ends for I don't know how long and was about ready to find a pair of scissors and take it off myself. Because picking up the phone and making an appointment is just too much of an effort but preparing to stack the bathroom with mirrors so I can see what I'm doing is positively clever. Thankfully Grandmother needed an appointment as well and made one for me. Somehow my hair got the message that it's nightmare was almost over and decided to give up this weekend. No amount of conditioning or hot curlers would revive it. And at that point when inspecting the damage, the thought that maybe this would require a rather drastic solution. A solution that involved very large pieces of my hair on the hairdresser's floor.

Once upon a time, when I was a wee toddler, Mom let Dad cut my hair. I looked like a Dutch boy in a dress. I survived the incident but it rather scarred Mom who refused his interference in my hair until I turned 8 and his claims that my hair looked stringy (It didn't.) could no longer be silenced by her huffs of indignation. The end result was something that he referenced back to Princess Grace but I always thought had more of a Diana theme to it. This hairstyle became my most detested. I hated having lost so much of my hair and it particularly irked me that family members would comment on how nice it looked. As if they were enjoying my misery, which of course they weren't but you try using that logic on an 8 year old. If I wasn't happy, how on earth could they be happy? Plus it was high maintence. Up early every morning with Mom while she labored over it with a curling iron. The spikey kind of curling iron.

But that was the past! Surely I can figure out a short cut that would flatter me and not require professional styling tools that double as medieval weapons! Plus the temperature and humidity are decreasing so whatever I pick will be less likely to make my hair look like a giant frizzy clown wig. And Patty would tell me if something was wrong for my face. Or my head. You know I do have a rather large head, whose roundness is emphasized when I pull my hair back into a bun...

Unsurprisingly I pussy out of the really short hair cut and only take off 2 inches plus some layering. My hair thanks me for relieving part of its burden. And somewhere my 8 year old self is shaking her head muttering about the bullet we just dodged.

Dear Self,

If you are going to all the trouble of exchanging your summer wardrobe for your fall/winter wardrobe because the temperatures dropped significantly, then perhaps you should put on the long pajama pants at night. You know, so you aren't covered in goosebumps the next morning.

Love Self

PS You moved your bed under a window. Would you mind running the blowdryer over the pillow before bed? It's freezing!*


Woke up on Saturday to temperatures in the 50s which is too good to last. We'll be back in the 80s by Wednesday and just when we manage to get through the adjustment period. Spent the late morning at RAM for the weekly produce and jewelry ogling. And then there was some inadverdent hipster ogling.


@colleenpowell Mildly irked that I didn't wear a scarf. Scarf + Skinny Jeans = Mating plumage

@colleenpowellThe variety comes in shoes: worn out Vans/Converse, ballet/mary janes, or boots

@colleenpowell RT@poisonivyism They're only mating plumage if you're looking for a twig in black glasses who listens to Elvis Costello.

@colleenpowell .@poisonivyism Exactly. Steal his glasses so I don't have to buy my own.

Actually I would really like a set of fashion glasses but haven't found a place that sells them. I try on reading glasses at Anthropologie and Barnes and Noble but the magnification distorts my vision so much that my reflection is just a blur.

Spent the day cleaning both the house and my room. The only practical cleaning occured in the rest of the house by mopping floors and wiping down fans and chandeliers. Cleaning in my room seems to consist more or less of taking a Box of Stuff and moving it to a different Box or maybe moving that Box to a different location. They are going to bury that box with me because I can't be separated from it and no one else wants to deal with it. On the plus side I did uncover my matryoshka doll that Grandfather gave me. She's providing a nice spot of color on my bedside table.





*Given values of "freezing" may vary and/or not correspond to scientifically validated measurements. For reference "freezing" as applied in Florida corresponds to a downwards shift from 98 to 50 degrees.

Another hour and twenty minutes before I can leave for lunch/dinner and I am starving. Simon opened the window for a fresh cool breeze and gave me a sprig of fresh rosemary. I need a flank of lamb, olive oil, lemon, garlic, and a crockpot. Actually I think we have a crockpot in one of the supply closets. Not sure where I'll find a lamb though.

ETA: Perusing Qdoba's nutritional calculator and found out that the quesadilla I ate last Saturday contained 1,200 calories. No wonder I felt like passing out! Today's meal will be at Panera where I shall be moderately sensible.