Wiping the dust off my shoes!

Okay folks, I'm in my last 2 hours here in the Bend. WOOHOO!! My apartment is all packed up, I just have to load up my car, pick up a memory stick I ordered at Best Buy, return a library book, and eat some Indian Buffet (Star of India, even on a Sunday, Steve). And then it's BYE BYE SOUTH BEND!!!!!!!!

I'm sad only to leave for three reasons
(1) we finally got nice weather about two weeks ago, and finally the trees are green again, so it's actually pretty just when I'm leaving. Houston is a furnace right now, so it looks like this year I'm really having the extreme weather (snow EVERY DAY for the winter, sauna EVERY DAY for the summer).
(2) rent is freakin' cheap in the Bend
(3) my office was sweet, and my office computer was darn fast.

But really, those three reasons are pretty much pennies in comparison to the sacrifice you'd have to make socially and culturally to live in the Bend, and I'm sooooo excited that it's time to go! Tonight I get to see my friends' new house in St. Louis, and tomorrow I'll be in Houston.

Could I be any more excited??

If your mood needs lightening

First, I have recently discovered a great new stress reliever: bags of frozen vegetables placed on my face. Why this works, I have no clue. I know some people use ice cubes on their eyes after they cry to make their eyes less red and puffy, but I am talking about a full bag of frozen peas/corn/broccoli/whatever placed across my eyes and nose. And not for post-crying, but to calm me down and make me less stressed. Strange, but true. I love it!


Second, I got something in the mail today from Cambridge University Press. (We get lots of mailings from the various social science presses, advertising new books and all). I opened it up, and the first line says, "A vital resource!" Well, hey, a vital resource...

The Association for Jewish Studies Review.

Um... okay. We can debate whether or not ANY of our sociology junk is important at all, much less vital. And the Association for Jewish Studies Review? I had to laugh at that being called vital.


Third, this is the funniest website. I am probably a bad person for laughing so hard at it, particularly since I don't have kids. Oh well. Now you can be a bad person, too.

Lag time

Many of my friends are doing very exciting things right now. Travelling, for instance. One of my friends is in Seattle, San Francisco, and Los Angeles for two weeks. One is in New York, Orlando, and California for three weeks. One is in Taiwan. One is heading out to northern Minnesota for hiking and some family events. One is going to Europe for a conference. My sister is going to Morocco for a week. I would not hesitate to take any of these options.

Then I have several friends who have just moved (or are about to move) somewhere, either for permanent or for the summer, be it New York, Seattle, Dallas, Los Angeles. Again, starting something new, often in cool places.

I am still in South Bend, finishing up a bunch of research. It's not really so bad, but when I hear about all these fun places... well, then I wish I was travelling somewhere fun! Namely: in California, at Disney World, on any nice beach, or in any beautiful mountains.

On the positive side of things here in South Bend, I managed to get a $35 library fine waived on Friday. Maybe I'll put that money in my "fun trip" fund.

I suck at waiting...

...At least when it comes to knowing things. If someone tells me they have a secret I'll "find out about soon enough", I go crazy not knowing what it is. I like to know where I'll be, what I'll be doing, what plans are, where exactly I'll be living, NOW. And let's not even discuss cliff hanger season finales!

The worst part is that I suck waiting on information about other people too. I'm always wanting to know where my friends are going to live next, where they are going to move next, etc. For no particular reason except by obsession with knowing what is going to happen in the future.

I hate hearing, "Well, we can't figure out anything until after X." Ack! Why can't it just be figured out now?? The worst is when the "X" is subjective. For instance, "Well, I can't figure out where I'll be next year until I hear back about my admission to my law schools," is pretty much a done deal. There is no possible way for me to know anything. On the other hand, "Well, I can't figure that out until I talk with my husband about it. I don't want to talk to him until he's found a job and is less stressed," drives me up the wall. Vague generalities based on talking to someone "when the time is right" annoy the heck out of me.

I don't know why I'm obsessed with knowing what's going to happen. It's not even that I'm usually worried about things not going right... I'm just obsessed with knowing the information!

The good news is, I've gotten much better about it in many respects! While in the blog entry I probably make it sound really bad, I'm mostly talking about how it used to be. In particular, luckily I've become less obsessive about my freinds' futures. And a good deal less obsessive about my own future. (i.e. I'm not freaking out about where I'll be living come August). Still... tips on how to get over this strange obsession?

Biggest compliment of the year

"See, if we're going out to eat, I only want to go somewhere that's fast. You cook as good as the food we get in a restaurant, so why should we pay to eat at a restaurant unless it's really fast?"


(As a side note, "learning to cook well" is perhaps the only goal I have ever set and completed in my life.)

My first semi-bridezilla wedding

Or, the best wedding NOT to be a bride

Alison was a good friend in high school. At times, my best friend. But we didn't keep in touch a ton after we graduated. Our sisters are close friends, so that meant a stronger link. We saw each other a few times a year at first. But it had been a year and a half since we had spoken when Alison called and asked me to be one of her bridesmaids. I said yes!

Wedding planners really are something. Let's just say that this wedding planner managed to get ahold of the the bride's sister's boyfriend (who does NOT own a cell phone) on Chinatown bus. How? She located the bus driver's cell phone number for the bus coming from Washington DC. Let's just say I have some sympathy for cell phones again, after that escapade.

The wedding planner also suggested that Alison's mother put together little baskets for the bathrooms at the reception. The one for the ladies' room was simple: tissues, hairspray, clear nail polish, tampons. Alison's mom wasn't sure what to put into the basket in the men's bathroom. The wedding planner suggested condoms. ("Lots of hook ups happen at weddings!") Well, Mrs. Kistler listened to her: 1 box of magnum condoms in the men's room. Dear me. The funniest part? The box was empty within 2 hrs.

As for the Bridezilla-esque quality to this wedding. After arriving in PA at 1 AM on Thursday night/Friday morning (after several nearly sleepless nights at the Dame thanks to finals and packing all my crap to cart to PA for storage), I was up at 8 the next morning. With shopping, the bridal party luncheon, mandatory matching manicures and pedicures, the rehearsal, and the rehearsal dinner, I didn't come home and get to bed until 2 AM. Then it was 8 am the next day, for hair appointments, makeup, getting ready, lunch, photographs...

Well, let's add in the trolley we took from Alison's house to the church. The trolley driver was crazy and drove at like 60 mph (which, for a trolley, is a bit much!). Then there was the horse and carriage to the reception, and a SIX HOUR reception. (Yes, I admit that I kept thinking, "Can you guys just leave for the hotel yet???").

Oh yes, and did I forget to mention that never in my life have I worn heels before? I managed to make it down the aisle without a mishap, but BOY my feet were hurting a few hours into the night!

I did have a nice time. The food was good, it was awesome and sweet to see Alison so happy, I had a great time hanging out with the other bridesmaids, our manicures and pedicures and the bridesmaids luncheon were super fun... But let's just say, don't expect any elaborate wedding for me! I plan to either (a) elope and throw a party when I get back or (b) get married in a white sundress with bare feet on the beach somewhere.