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| It was 60 degrees today, folks. Back in middle school, 60 degrees was what it took for me to pull on a pair of shorts instead of long pants at 7 AM. It'd usually get to 70 degrees by midday, and definitely 76 by the time school let out. 60 degrees is cold enough to quickly cool a stack of 24 cupcakes if left outside, but not too cool to retrieve them from the porch in your PJs. 60 degrees is more than we can ask for in a January Fishkill. To show your appreciation, you should've been outside.
I go to the playground today, which is as outside as you can get, in my opinion. After all, it's the one place you can't go when it rains outside. Indoor recess is always such a bummer. So I share the playground with my friend Laura, some 5 and 6 year olds, and more toddlers with their young moms and dads. We start on the slightly more dignified swings, but we end up on the jungle gym. Honestly, the kids on the playground where just a physical part of it to me, mechanically sliding down the slides and running around too fast...until one little dude shouts a quick and overly enthusiastic "HI!!!!!!!" before he slides across on the zipline thing. I doubt that, in his pre-metacognitive little mind, he wonders why we're not moving around the way they are. In case you are wondering, however, it was because we were freeloaders on your energetic, simple happiness.
The playground would be depressing if it isn't for these kids. An empty playground is lonely, depressing, and even creepy. So on the next 60 degrees day, it'll be pointless to visit an empty one during the day, before these young parents get out of work and take their kids there. Next time I go, it'll be another fun playground, kids included. Let's hope no one mistakes me for a pedophile.
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| For our first Christmas, my husband and I will have a real baby tree. Uh huh...I will pick out a tiny, baby tree with my love; we'll decorate it together with baby ornaments, while sipping eggnog. Tiny, cute ornaments for a tiny, cute tree. We'd wear sweaters - I'd want a santa hat on me... It'd be beautiful if it was snowing outside, we'd have hot chocolate (with peppermint schnapps) then. After New Year's, we'd plant that tree somewhere. And we'd take a picture by it every Christmas. And it'd be a real sweet thing 20, 40, 60 years after.
A friend and I planned this out in the car today. She was telling as story about this old couple with a huge tree in their back yard. A huge, giant, strong tree that was a small, baby tree 50 years ago when they planted it after their first Christmas together. After that, we might get real trees. I hear they recycle well into mulch. I used to think that plastic was the way to go, since you can use the same one each year. But the pollution that goes into making all that plastic is just bad for the environment...
I love perfect timing. And perfect timing was exactly what I had this morning. Jess dropped me off at East Hill on her way back to CT, I spent a freaking TEN minutes looking for Cornell Payroll because the girl on the phone can't give directions. But then I got all my checks, and instead of waiting around for M&T to call us back so we could do direct deposit, I told the girl I'd just get it and mail it to her (since I was in a hurry). I got out the Trust Co. just in time to get onto the bus that would take me back to Cornell. I almost told the banker girl at Trust to forget about the 80 cents, but her fingers were a smidge faster than my second-language could form those words. So I rush on the bus and realize that I didn't have one dollar, fity cents. The conversation went like this:
"Do you stop at Sage at Cornell?"
"Yup"
"How much is this?"
"One fifty."
"Do you have change?"
"Nope."
"Oh...well I'll just give you the five then."
*Wink* "It's alright, just take a seat, sweetheart."
Cool, so I sit down and guess what I feel in my pocket? Those 80 cents! Cool beans. So I get up again, drop the 80 cents in his change box. "Oh, and this". And I hand him a 100 grand bar. "100 grand! That should cover it, Miss." Nice. That bar was something I got this morning for selling my Linear Algebra book back to Kappa Delta. Also something I almost passed on.
Moral of the story? Take it. Someone else might want your freebie.
So then I had a dinner with the 8 other RAs in my building, the residence hall director, and the faculty in residence. We started off with the secret snowflake thing. Who'd have thought that a 5 dollar max would've produced so many laughs? Trent, a gentleman-y, shy, nerdy Mechanical and Aerospace Engineer, had Anson, the pseudo-frat boy as his gifter. Do you know what MechEs do? Not girls, that's for sure. They make lights and screw in bulbs. For a whole semester. Basically there's no screwing around in that machine shop of theirs, and there's nothing in those heads except physics. So guess what Trent pulls out of Anson's gift bag in front of a 50 year old Chinese professor? A rock. Plus 3 condoms. And awkwardly pretends it's gum. "Chewy." Whatever. At least he wore a tie (and no beanie.)
Then Chris got handcuffs from Spencers.
Anson got a weed shaped stress ball and a penis popsicle.
Dmitry got socks. Awkward? I think so.
So guess what Frances Yufen Lee Mehta got for me? Her Chinese 109 Colloquial Chinese Reader. Nicee.
I'm gonna read it to fall asleep. because otherwise, I just won't. I've tried teddy bears and even a cow. But I just don't think it's the right stuffed animal. I'm thinking that what I need is much bigger.
"dont even need ur profile up to be stuttering like an idiot." hehehe.
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| It took me five minutes just to figure out how to write a new "web log." Apparently, you can't do it from the public preview screen. And the only way you get to your private view is by clicking your tiny name at the corner. Retarded. Here's what else I think is retarded about xanga. Xanga, without it's bad reputation, is actually kind of cool. Especially now that you can make your text colorful, add pictures and videos, and have your privacy settings the way you like them. It had the potential to be Facebook. If it did have as good of a reputation as Facebook, I wouldn't feel so retarded updating it right now. In any case, I know that half of Facebook is for schools and employers to network with you (hence the real name and education info). But honestly, I doubt my Facebook gives off any better Employee Vibe than my Xanga.
Going back to reading Chemistry is about the funnest thing I can think of doing right now (except for Francois, of course). So I gon' do that.
peaceasy
(...as they say)
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| I am on the left lane of I-84, going 70 miles per hour, so the needle stands perfectly straight up on the speedometer. This shadow creeps over my car - Damn you, cloud, the sun is really cheerful... but it isn't a cloud, it's the huge ass truck I am passing, getting ready to boot me off the highway. so I honk my horn and drive on the shoulder for 1.5 seconds, enough to scare the hell out of the woman in my passenger seat. He swerves back, hoping no damage had been done. I speed ahead, out of danger, and instead of raising that middle finger, I give him the other four too, "It's okay, man, it happens. Just thank my defensive driving class." But he doesn't care, he's on the phone.
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