Since its looking less and less likely that we'll make it to Poland this summer - unless, of course, my committee tells me I should finish with a Master's instead of a PhD, in which case, I'm assuming I'll get out of here sooner rather than later - we won't get a summer vacation this year. Boo. :(
BUT that doesn't mean we can't sneak away for a week-end instead.
Our second year wedding anniversary is on April 29th. Two years!? My, how time flies... Anyway being the superstar that he is, Greg has booked us two nights at a bed & breakfast in Fredericksburg, TX. We'll be staying in the Perdenales Room at Cotton Gin Village. Its a super cute and rustic (well, rustic-looking anyway) cabin set in a mock 19th century village. But with A/C, satellite TV, and a jacuzzi tub, I seriously doubt there'll be much "roughing it". This area is beautiful. We might go on hikes or check out local vineyards or just wander through town and all the antique shops. I can't wait.
Babe, you're awesome. I don't know what I did in a former life to deserve you, but it must have been pretty impressive. I love you.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Cry Baby
Yesterday afternoon we beat one of the best soccer teams in our division! This team had 3 of the top scorers in our league. Their guys were all super fit and could run circles around us. Their ball control made us look like a bunch toddlers with severely under-developed motor skills. I mean, they were tough. So how did we win?
By default.
2:20 p.m. came and went and not enough players showed to form their team. So instead we took advantage of the empty field and scrimmaged for 30 minutes. Scrimmage, by the way, apparently equates to "No holds barred". Playing meant taking my life into my own hands and praying that I made it out alive. It was like Thunderdome out there, a fight to the death!
Or maybe I'm just over-dramatizing a bit because that was the first time in a LONG time that I've actually cried, out loud and everything, from physical pain. It was ugly. And I am so embarrassed about my sad little display of sissy-ness.
Here's how it went down. They had such disproportionate possession of the ball that much of the game was played out near our goal. They were even so confident that the goalie, the cocky shit, had come out of the box and over into our field to assist in the assault. He took possession of the ball, and just as our players were about to close in on him, he made a last ditch effort to score by rocketing and I do mean r-o-c-k-e-t-ing a shot off at the goal. Luckily my face was in the way.
I had a split second to register the fact that this lethal missile was speeding toward my head before some animalistic instinct of self-preservation made me quickly turn so that the full force of the brick wall that ran me over hit my right ear and neck instead of my nose and eye. For a second the impact just reverberated through my brain and skull. There go differential equations. I stood there stunned before the pain kicked in, but I was still lucid enough to hear Greg yell at the guy before he came running out to get me. Then I don't know what happened. As soon as Greg came to put his arm around me, the tears just started flowing. I even let out a few pathetic whimpers as he walked me back to the bench. It was like a small but overflowing floodgate.
I don't know, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't all due to the physical pounding I took on the field. I think some of it may be the emotional pounding I've been dealing with lately, namely graduating and getting out of grad school. Whatever it was, it only served to piss me off. After I dried my tears and iced my ear, I was all the more eager to get out there and risk life and limb once again.
Incidentally if this had been a real game with a ref, that would have been a foul thanks to the "macho" rule. I'm so not kidding about this. The macho rule is "a foul in coed play where a player is determined to be playing too aggressively for the given game situation", i.e. much better players trying to prove their manliness by launching missiles at girls' heads. Wanker!
(Is it just me or does it sound like I get the snot beaten out of me on a fairly regular basis? I present to you Exhibit A, B, and C.)
By the way, I think the last time I cried out loud from physical pain was when I slid 150 ft down a mountain in an uncontrolled tailspin and landed in sharp, jagged rocks seven years ago. That was fun. I'll have to share the story some time for posterity if nothing else...
By default.
2:20 p.m. came and went and not enough players showed to form their team. So instead we took advantage of the empty field and scrimmaged for 30 minutes. Scrimmage, by the way, apparently equates to "No holds barred". Playing meant taking my life into my own hands and praying that I made it out alive. It was like Thunderdome out there, a fight to the death!
Or maybe I'm just over-dramatizing a bit because that was the first time in a LONG time that I've actually cried, out loud and everything, from physical pain. It was ugly. And I am so embarrassed about my sad little display of sissy-ness.
Here's how it went down. They had such disproportionate possession of the ball that much of the game was played out near our goal. They were even so confident that the goalie, the cocky shit, had come out of the box and over into our field to assist in the assault. He took possession of the ball, and just as our players were about to close in on him, he made a last ditch effort to score by rocketing and I do mean r-o-c-k-e-t-ing a shot off at the goal. Luckily my face was in the way.
I had a split second to register the fact that this lethal missile was speeding toward my head before some animalistic instinct of self-preservation made me quickly turn so that the full force of the brick wall that ran me over hit my right ear and neck instead of my nose and eye. For a second the impact just reverberated through my brain and skull. There go differential equations. I stood there stunned before the pain kicked in, but I was still lucid enough to hear Greg yell at the guy before he came running out to get me. Then I don't know what happened. As soon as Greg came to put his arm around me, the tears just started flowing. I even let out a few pathetic whimpers as he walked me back to the bench. It was like a small but overflowing floodgate.
I don't know, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't all due to the physical pounding I took on the field. I think some of it may be the emotional pounding I've been dealing with lately, namely graduating and getting out of grad school. Whatever it was, it only served to piss me off. After I dried my tears and iced my ear, I was all the more eager to get out there and risk life and limb once again.
Incidentally if this had been a real game with a ref, that would have been a foul thanks to the "macho" rule. I'm so not kidding about this. The macho rule is "a foul in coed play where a player is determined to be playing too aggressively for the given game situation", i.e. much better players trying to prove their manliness by launching missiles at girls' heads. Wanker!
(Is it just me or does it sound like I get the snot beaten out of me on a fairly regular basis? I present to you Exhibit A, B, and C.)
By the way, I think the last time I cried out loud from physical pain was when I slid 150 ft down a mountain in an uncontrolled tailspin and landed in sharp, jagged rocks seven years ago. That was fun. I'll have to share the story some time for posterity if nothing else...
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Dawning of a New Era
Yes, yes. I'm working on my presentation and reviewing all things immunology, vaccinology, and all that fun stuff. But I'm also inspired...
...to teach our kitties to use the toilet like civilized beings!
Although to be quite honest,
I've done the research. I'm using a mix of advice from here, here and here. I've bought aluminum pans and flushable litter. And I can be very, very patient when necessary.
Training starts today! Wish me luck.
...to teach our kitties to use the toilet like civilized beings!
Although to be quite honest,this picture doesn't look all that civilized.
But everybody poos!
So don't laugh!
I'm sick of stepping on little bits of litter all over the house. My tootsies are litter magnets! And I can't get it off unless I wipe with my hands or find a rug. It's messy. It's stinky. It grosses me out. And let's be honest, its a total pain in my derrière to scoop twice a day. (And, yes, scooping twice a day is absolutely necessary. My kitties are demanding prima donna princesses that way - I blame Greg, he's a neat-freak too. But at least he's potty trained.)But everybody poos!
So don't laugh!
I've done the research. I'm using a mix of advice from here, here and here. I've bought aluminum pans and flushable litter. And I can be very, very patient when necessary.
Training starts today! Wish me luck.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Therapy in Snippets
I just emailed Greg my concerns about the impending doom that is my committee meeting.
from: Larisa
to: Greg
Committee meeting.
Thursday
3 p.m.
Heart palpitations.
Can't breath.
FUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK!
I don't want a phd!
13 minutes later, his reply:
from: Greg
to: Larisa
I think I'm already breaking out in hives... Oh God.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six...
from: Larisa
to: Greg
Committee meeting.
Thursday
3 p.m.
Heart palpitations.
Can't breath.
FUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK!
I don't want a phd!
13 minutes later, his reply:
from: Greg
to: Larisa
Committee meeting. GOOD
Thursday BEFORE THE WEEKEND
3 p.m. MEANS A LIE-IN
Heart palpitations. TAKE ASPIRIN
Can't breath. COUNT TO 10
FUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK! NO COMMENT
I don't want a phd! YES YOU DO!
Thursday
3 p.m. MEANS A LIE-IN
Heart palpitations. TAKE ASPIRIN
Can't breath. COUNT TO 10
FUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK
I don't want a phd! YES YOU DO!
LOVE YOU SUPERSTAR!!!
PS - We are not going out this weekend with Shawn
I think I'm already breaking out in hives... Oh God.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six...
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Through Alcoholism and Sobriety...
Greg and I are obsessed with a British television show called Cold Feet. We've seen seasons 1 through 3 via Netflix and the library, but seasons 4 & 5 aren't available to buy or rent anywhere here in the U.S. One day last week Greg was surfing Amazon and found the DVD set containing ALL five seasons for less than $50! We ordered it immediately. Its was being shipped from Britain so we weren't expecting it for weeks.
Well, it came in today!
I have so much work to do, but we couldn't help ourselves. We spent about three hours watching a whole DVD from season 4 this afternoon. Its the season where one of the main characters becomes addicted to alcohol. She's boozing it up with strangers and putting herself into all sorts of dangerous situations. But the breaking point finally comes when she gets in the car and has an accident with her little son in the back seat. Later in that same show comes the heart-breaking scene where she accidentally bumps into her husband outside a shrink's office (one that he's been seeing too). And through lots of crying and tears, she admits to him that she has a problem and needs his help.
Greg reached over to hold my hand (because he gets the warm & fuzzies when he watches this show), and I turned to him and said If I ever became an alcoholic, would you help me?
To which he replies Of course, I would. Then he turns to me with an equally earnest look on his face and says If I'm ever binge-drinking, don't stop me.
Ugh.
Well, it came in today!
I have so much work to do, but we couldn't help ourselves. We spent about three hours watching a whole DVD from season 4 this afternoon. Its the season where one of the main characters becomes addicted to alcohol. She's boozing it up with strangers and putting herself into all sorts of dangerous situations. But the breaking point finally comes when she gets in the car and has an accident with her little son in the back seat. Later in that same show comes the heart-breaking scene where she accidentally bumps into her husband outside a shrink's office (one that he's been seeing too). And through lots of crying and tears, she admits to him that she has a problem and needs his help.
Greg reached over to hold my hand (because he gets the warm & fuzzies when he watches this show), and I turned to him and said If I ever became an alcoholic, would you help me?
To which he replies Of course, I would. Then he turns to me with an equally earnest look on his face and says If I'm ever binge-drinking, don't stop me.
Ugh.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Dear Mr. Taxman
My uncle Rodney, the consummate joker, is in the habit of sending out mass emails to friends and family members on a fairly regular basis. Most of them are harmless, funny, little tidbits about rednecks (of which there are many in my West TX family tree), marital strife, or some variation of sexual deviance. (To elaborate on that last one, I actually can't remember a time when my innocent, still-forming mind was not bombarded with vivid imagery from sex jokes told by adult family members, which make them all the more inappropriate and icky. This above all else, I believe ultimately rendered me with very indelicate sensibilities. Although I like to pretend from time to time that this is not the case.)
Many, many of these emails involve, of course, critiques of every branch of governmental function. And since that dreaded tax deadline is fast approaching, I thought I'd share this latest installment:
Dear Internal Revenue Service,
Enclosed you will find my 2007 tax return showing that I owe $3,407.00 in taxes. Please note the attached article from USA Today dated 12 November, wherein you will see the Pentagon (Department of Defense) is paying $171.50 per hammer and NASA has paid $600.00 per toilet seat.
I am enclosing four (4) toilet seats, valued at $2,400, and six (6) hammers, valued at $1,029, which I secured at Home Depot, bringing my total remittance to $3,429.00. Please apply the overpayment of $22.00 to the Presidential Election Fund, as noted on my return. You can do this inexpensively by sending them one (1) 1.5" Phillips head screw (see aforementioned article detailing how H.U.D. pays $22.00 each for 1.5" Phillips head screws). One screw is enclosed for your convenience.
It has been a pleasure to pay my tax bill this year, and I look forward to paying it again next year.
Sincerely,
Satisfied Tax Payer
Many, many of these emails involve, of course, critiques of every branch of governmental function. And since that dreaded tax deadline is fast approaching, I thought I'd share this latest installment:
Dear Internal Revenue Service,
Enclosed you will find my 2007 tax return showing that I owe $3,407.00 in taxes. Please note the attached article from USA Today dated 12 November, wherein you will see the Pentagon (Department of Defense) is paying $171.50 per hammer and NASA has paid $600.00 per toilet seat.
I am enclosing four (4) toilet seats, valued at $2,400, and six (6) hammers, valued at $1,029, which I secured at Home Depot, bringing my total remittance to $3,429.00. Please apply the overpayment of $22.00 to the Presidential Election Fund, as noted on my return. You can do this inexpensively by sending them one (1) 1.5" Phillips head screw (see aforementioned article detailing how H.U.D. pays $22.00 each for 1.5" Phillips head screws). One screw is enclosed for your convenience.
It has been a pleasure to pay my tax bill this year, and I look forward to paying it again next year.
Sincerely,
Satisfied Tax Payer
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Baby Breaks
If you have the means, I highly suggest taking periodic breaks in your work week for 20- to 40-minute cuddle sessions with yummy, irresistible, little infants. Although this activity has been documented to illicit, on occasion, raging cases of baby fever, the therapeutic benefits far outweigh the risks.
It just so happens that the cutest infant within my immediate vicinity is one, Ms. Elizabeth Grace Hall, daughter of Brad and Alisha Hall. Alisha brings Ms. Lizzy into the office 3 days a week because her bosses are just that awesome (and Alisha's ability to keep their collective shit together affords her great understanding and flexibility from these bosses).
As soon as I learned Ms. Lizzy was on the premises, I scheduled an impromptu 30-minute session. Our meeting consisted of cradling, rocking, and rhythmic patting of the bottom. (That patting of the bottom is her 'off' switch, by the way. As soon as I started, she was rendered incapacitated. Her eyes started rolling into the back of her skull, and she was gone.) Therapy also included an intensive lesson in restraint. I can't be the only one tempted to gum baby fingers, toes, and noses. They were put there to torment me with their cuteness and edibility.
The only repercussions from our meeting is a sore and cramping right bicep and shoulder. As yet I am not skilled enough to rotate yummy, irresistible infants from one arm to the other. Therefore, during our next session on Friday, I will use further cradling, rocking and patting of the bottom to exercise the opposite arm.
My phone camera picture of yummy, irresistible, little Lizzy wasn't saved so you'll just have to take my word for it that she is, in fact, yummy and irresistible and very little.
It just so happens that the cutest infant within my immediate vicinity is one, Ms. Elizabeth Grace Hall, daughter of Brad and Alisha Hall. Alisha brings Ms. Lizzy into the office 3 days a week because her bosses are just that awesome (and Alisha's ability to keep their collective shit together affords her great understanding and flexibility from these bosses).
As soon as I learned Ms. Lizzy was on the premises, I scheduled an impromptu 30-minute session. Our meeting consisted of cradling, rocking, and rhythmic patting of the bottom. (That patting of the bottom is her 'off' switch, by the way. As soon as I started, she was rendered incapacitated. Her eyes started rolling into the back of her skull, and she was gone.) Therapy also included an intensive lesson in restraint. I can't be the only one tempted to gum baby fingers, toes, and noses. They were put there to torment me with their cuteness and edibility.
The only repercussions from our meeting is a sore and cramping right bicep and shoulder. As yet I am not skilled enough to rotate yummy, irresistible infants from one arm to the other. Therefore, during our next session on Friday, I will use further cradling, rocking and patting of the bottom to exercise the opposite arm.
My phone camera picture of yummy, irresistible, little Lizzy wasn't saved so you'll just have to take my word for it that she is, in fact, yummy and irresistible and very little.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Soccer Synopsis
- 1-9 thrashing last night. We got our bottoms spanked fair and square.
- Lance makes the most dramatic goals (and collisions) of all time. Last night it was a flying head-butt into the net, which took everyone by surprise, including, thankfully, their keeper or else it would have been a complete shut-out.
- The team member threatening to quit was a no-show so I'm guessing she really is quitting. I was going to try to talk her out of it but decided against it.
I just want to play the game and escape the crushing, suffocating stresses of work for a while. That is the whole point of these extra-curricular team sports, is it not?
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