Destiny

I am trying to come to grips with the fact that growing-up does not mean you ever know what you are doing. I treated myself to a movie yesterday - The Prince of Persia. It is my favorite kind of movie - light, action filled, with elements of the fantastic. And threaded with the theme of destiny.

I know I make fun of myself for being clumsy. I mean, I am a pretty easy target. But there are times when the epic inevitability of my clumsiness is just too much to take. Escaping my house after a less than productive afternoon, I walked to the grocery store, which is just a mile or so away from my house. As I bagged my groceries in the bags I brought (one made by Ms. Verch - thank ya ma'am!), I thought to myself, hmmm, I will carry my eggs by hand, so as not to break them. Unfortunately, one the way back home I straight out fell. Don't know what happened, there was nothing on the ground, I just fell. So there I was, on the side of the road, eggs cracked and broken, knees cut and bleeding. I walked home leaving a trail of blood and egg yolk, like some sort of twisted Hansel and Gretel.

Geek Out

It is time for me to embrace my inner geek. Little did I know a return to school would release my pent-up OCD; organizing notes, color-coded flash cards, knowing all the answers = yours rockin' truly. Yeah, I have already been made fun of in class for being type A. Just because I was the only one who did homework for the first lab when it wasn't required. I am thorough, ok!?! I watched Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, and felt affirmed that it was okay to be crazy and a geek. So that girl walking down the street with her ipod, fanny pack, and a stack of index cards bigger than your head? Yeah, that's me.

I just realized that when my landlord called me asking if I heard any parties over the weekend, he was asking if I had any parties over the weekend. Which is ludicrous. I do watch BBC movies late at night, is that crazy enough for you? Apparently the people below us moved out and broke their lease because of my raucous habits, aka cello playing, sewing frenzies, and old movies. Really kids? Have you met me? I am an old woman.

In other bad news, my lab practicals in Anatomy are spelling dependent, meaning I have to be able to spell. Which makes sense, but does not bode well. And tomorrow I find out the score of my Chem placement exam, which won't drop me from Chem but the prof might suggest that I step down to a lower level. Fat chance, lets just hope I got 1/3 of the questions right.

Day Two of School: Everything is okay. Except I have a lot of studying to do. LOTS.

Okay, but really. Today was the first day of Chemistry and the prof is amazing. He is from the Dominican Republic, has a great accent, and a great sense of humor. I will never be able to fully explain his awesomeness, but I will give you the best quotes from the lecture:


"I am like a diver, I can smell a rotten problem. I go straight in the ocean to kill the octopus."
"I am not here to destroy your dreams, I am here to add gas to your wings. I am a poet."
"I am like a hawk!"
"You don't care about magic?"
"Rum is the spirit of life."
"Even Marijuana growers use the scientific method to make the pot stronger. That is what I call American ingenuity!"
"You think Chemistry is dry? Bullshit."

I didn't even take notes on Chemistry, I just wrote down his jokes or his attempted jokes. I think there is still something of a language barrier. Instead of "I wasn't born yesterday," he said "I didn't wake up this morning." Ha.

LAST DAY!

Lessons from the farm:

Christa! Don't forget your gloves!

Christa! Don't forget your hat!

Christa! Don't forget your water!

Christa! Don't forget your suncreen!

I am exhausted from four hours of weeding, scratched from nettles and raspberry bushes and sore from digging holes, and my ankles (only my ankles) are sunburned. How did that happen?

I made up this lymric while I was weeding:

I am tired of weeding this thistle
Though it gives me time to whistle
It would go by fast
If we used a blast
Why don't we weed with a missle?

I love the farm.

I thought this was creepy.

But then I saw this and this.

I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair...

Today I, yet again, washed my hair with something that is not shampoo. I think it was my body wash since I would have noticed the little exfoliaters from my face wash. What a mystery.

The times, they are a changing...

Yep, that's right. I have put in my notice, switched from a year's notice to three weeks. Three weeks! That gives me three weeks to secure loans, a part time job, register, buy books and a calculator. OMG! We just went into super drive and will not stop for the next two, three, or five years. But the end goal I have in view is being able to make a living, buy land, move to the country, build gardens, own goats, help people, travel, and, eventually, find rest.

And do you know what stress makes me do? Bake. I have been a veritable machine, motivated by nerves and a desire to get rid of all the potential edible temptations in my house. Bread, cinnamon rolls, soup, and a gorgeous dark chocolate tart have all been churned out of the oven in the last 48 hours.

You all have to check out Jessa's "the-gal-who-I-introduced-to-sewing-and-then-she-vastly-surpassed-me-in-skill-and-creativity" new blog and etsy web site. More importantly, you need to check out the precious purses she just crafted. For reals.

It is late, I should not be up but I am.