Soup of the Day

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The juice ain't worth the squeeze

I spent the last week at Ft. Benning, Georgia, with my younger brother, his wife and their baby who is so adorable she might be edible. It was not your typical spring break (I couldn't find a beer bong anywhere), but it was relaxing and spent surrounded by family with all of their quirks and traits that you wish you hadn't inherited but it turns out you did. I don't know that I've ever been so relaxed; I slept a ton, and when I was awake all I did was play with a baby. It was like therapy. So for a change, I find myself absolutely incapable of getting fired up about anything...and I have a to-do list that looks like the following:

1)
2)
3)
4)
5)

Yep. It's blank. It's so blank, I might just have another cup of coffee and continue listening to my favorite songs over and over. I'm that kind of calm right now.

I survived last quarter (wherein I took 17 credits just for the hell of it), and this quarter I have only 12, and I have a research position that I am absolutely thrilled about! I'll keep you posted. At the end of the interview for this position, the faculty member stood up, showed me to the door, opened her arms and announced, "I'm a hugger!!" Oh geez...

Seattle continues to treat me well, although a week of 80+ temperatures in Georgia reminded me how good sunshine feels; I'm really looking forward to summer and REALLY jealous of all you fools in San Diego right now...someone please hug S and S for me, K? I hear next year's conference is in RENOOOOO! I'll start working on an abstract right now so I can be there and get married to all of you in a hotel parking lot in front of a lookalike Officer Stokes from CSI. Or maybe I'll get married to a lookalike Officer Stokes in front of y'all.

Two of my favorite things:

1) The AMC series The Walking Dead.
2) The song "Civilian" by Wye Oake that is in the trailer for above-mentioned zombie rom-com.

That is all. It is week 10 of my second quarter in graduate school and so far I've managed not to pack up all of my belongings and head for somewhere that doesn't have paved roads or passive-aggressiveness.

Also not art.

A poem for you:

"Daydreaming"

Running my thumb along my jawbone
I can't help but think of my
self as a skeleton. Long dead,
long enough that death is no longer
sad, or strange, or unexpected.

My skeletal self will do things my
fleshy self never did, like wear
a top hat, tap dance, listen to
heavy metal. Heartbreak will be
a thing of the past, my bones
have selective memory.

Eventually I will tire of
clattering down cobbled roads.
I will find a garden somewhere,
lay down inconspicuously and
imagine what it would be like to be alive.