Archive for June, 2008

sytycd, performance week two: my thoughts.

Posted in TV and me are pals on June 18, 2008 by drbolte

DON’T READ THIS IF YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED OR WHAT I THINK.

in order of appearance:

that king and queen thing?  weird.

tango?  meh.  i guess it was okay.

will is a star. i’m with the judges on that.  i didn’t vote for him, though, because i think he should be partnered with somebody better. and if they are in the bottom three, which they shouldn’t be (because i thought it was actually quite good and fun), he’s home free.  cheerleader girl, though, might be in trouble.

foxtrot was an utter snoozefest.  i don’t like them. i don’t know why.

gev’s love story contemporary dance?  hott.  for reals.  i don’t know what the judges were talking about, because i felt it.  it was one of my two favorites this week.

joshua and katee are my rock gods.  they are just stars at whatever they do. i just…don’t have words.  i didn’t like this week’s as much as last week’s, but it’s the second of my two favorites.  i voted for them multiple times.

disastrous salsa. just horrible.  i could do better and…i don’t know salsa.  and if you’re crying in rehearsal?  suck it up.  please.  could they leave now?  i’m ready.

twitchington…was good.  i didn’t think they were THAT good, but i felt it. and from this girl, that’s pretty good since i know NOTHING.  i voted for them. multiple times.

i thought chris tried to crump, but the funniest part of that whole routine was nigel’s comments.

i watch this show for katee and joshua and now for will.  everybody else is lovely wallpaper.

one word for you on this wordless wednesday: FAIL.

Posted in Uncategorized on June 18, 2008 by drbolte

spectacularly disappointed by my attempts to run on the treadmill.

i suck.

aren’t you NOT supposed to look like a complete dweeb? have like a stride…or something?

that is your wednesday update.

to the place where i belong.

Posted in etcetera, family, my amazing mother on June 16, 2008 by drbolte

going home today.

(it’s 26 minutes away from it being midnight, so i’m officially calling monday done and tuesday here–THANK HEAVENS).

come too early this morning, i’ll be cruising down the highway, sunglasses on,  cheez-its and grapes beside me on the passenger seat, and the radio on perpetual scan, stopping it only to swoon over the chrises (daughtry and brown) and to sing along to singable songs at the top of my lungs.

my best car concerts happen on this particular stretch of highway.  i’ve got HOURS, so there’s lots of quality stuff going on.  plus, there are the reunions with my favorite gas stations along the road.  i love them because they allow me to multitask–gas, bathroom, food all in one stop!

i don’t dilly-dally when i’m going home.

know why?  because when i get home, i get mommy hugs, kitty purrs, and a present on my futon bed.  plus…TIVO!  and SOAPNET!  and BBC AMERICA!

who could ask for anything more?

not this girl.

in the meantime, i’m blogsquatting over at brillig‘s.  that ought to hold off you thundering hordes of fans until i find something blogworthy enough for you.

eat a cookie or something. i’ll be back soon.

promise.

it’s not pretty. be prepared.

Posted in domestic goddess, drama drama drama, ghetto life, going quietly mad, someday I'll be a real middle class girl, you have to be a chick to understand on June 16, 2008 by drbolte

it’s monday.

boy, is it monday.

i began this day pretty much thinking that it was going to suck, in the sense that i was already disappointed in myself.  i set the alarm for a half hour earlier than i had before, hoping to be able to get up and to the gym before work.

didn’t happen.

i rolled over and decided not to.

so i decided to do my errands instead before i went to work.

that was a good choice, because there were far fewer crowds.

went to the car place, where i needed to have my oil changed, and was told that my back tail light and turn signal were out.

(perhaps that’s why my turn signal was acting like a spastic speed addict?)

super.  replace them, please.

got out of there, even with replacing those and my windshield wipers which had seen better days and were begging to be put out of their misery, for about $10 or $15 less than i thought i would.

thank heavens for student discounts.

because then i went to mail a package to the best friend.  it’s the best package EVER CONCEIVED IN THE HISTORY OF MAN but…it’s basically full of dumb crap.  i mean, it’s dumb crap that will make him TOTALLY excited and happy, but it’s still dumb crap because the dumb crap is the funnest.  like an inflatable limbo stick.

(and, yeah, funnest is a word. shut up.)

it cost me $48 to send it to australia.

FORTY EIGHT DOLLARS.  i think my heart stopped.  i’m pretty sure that he will FLIP THE FREAK OUT when he sees that label on the box.  maybe yell at me. or maybe just feel bad.  he’ll get over it, though, because he’s a boy and boys have the miraculous ability to be like “ooh. that sucks.  moving on…” and compartmentalize the heck out of life.

i envy that.

because i felt stupid. and guilty. and lame.  why did i spend $48–even though that was, in fact, the cheapest option available to me–to send 4 pounds worth of stupid candy and little debbies and fake firework displays (long story involving party confetti poppers and a CD of john phillips sousa music) and baseball pez dispensers?

oh yeah. it’s because i’m that kind of person. and because he’s the best friend. and because he’ll like it.  and because…i do stuff like that.

so basically i’ve spent the last hour wondering why i’m an idiot.  and wondering if i can salvage this day somehow.

and then someone comes into work with a philosophy paper on free will and God, and is basically is asserting that he believes exactly what i believe, and even though the quiet voice of the Spirit was telling me to talk to him about the gospel, i didn’t do it because i wasn’t sure it was appropriate.

i think i just want to cry.

all i can think is that i am being WAY too hard on myself about everything.

(color me surprised.)

and that tomorrow at this time i will be on my way home, to spend a week and a half with my cats and my mom, getting work done and getting my batteries recharged for life.  i need that every once in a while.

and that because  i will be traveling, i’m awfully glad i didn’t listen to that crazy voice that told me not to bother changing my oil, because they fixed my tail lights so that i won’t get pulled over.  that’s a HUGE blessing.

and that the day isn’t over yet, so maybe i’ll get some yoga and crunches and squats and other things in so that i won’t be a lame-o to the lameth power.

and that maybe, just maybe, this frustrating plateau will resolve itself soon. i can’t express in words how frustrated i am, even though i’ve lost inches and i look different, i’m not seeing it and so i don’t believe it’s real until it’s numerically expressed.  i guess i think i might be making it all up.

and that maybe eating leftover roast will be yummy.  it turned out SOOO good!  i was a domestic success.  hooray! that didn’t suck.

and that putting one foot in front of the other will make everything okay.  it always does.

and that tomorrow? WON’T be monday.

letters, the “i don’t have time to think about anything other than this” edition.

Posted in books are bliss, dissertation, oh so very random, wish i may wish i might, you want me to walk HOW far? on June 12, 2008 by drbolte

dear makers of sara lee deluxe blueberry bagels,

i love you.

no, really.

i don’t know what you put in them (a little crack, maybe?), but they are magnificent. they make the twenty minutes after my workout adventures bliss.

and i just read this and apparently you’re exactly what i need. ’cause i put peanut butter on them and they are magic. pure magic. and now, i can feel even better about that magic, because it’s good magic. magical magic.

not that i didn’t know that before. because i knew. oh yeah. i knew.

thank you from the bottom of my empty stomach.

yours in superfood carboyhydrate adoration,

your stalker fan for life.

dear dead ann radcliffe, famous author of gothic novels,

why are they so long?

why are they so boring?

why are they, nonetheless, so important to my dissertation so i have to keep reading them…all…and taking notes on them because you subtly work in all of these amazing elements of travel and the thematic focus of liberty versus restraint and all of the other things that i am writing about?

WHY?

sentimentally yours,

CBPHD

dear elliptical,

i know we’ve had our differences. i know i used to scoff at the girls who were on you FOREVER at the gym. i couldn’t understand why they weren’t DONE already it had been an hour oh my gosh.

i was stupid.

i get it now. you are weirdly fascinating. you make sixty minutes of sweat-pouring punishment actually seem like fun. i don’t understand it. i don’t aim to try to understand it.

all i know is that i hoist my carcass out of bed earlier and earlier for you every morning, and i’m excited by the numbers we’ll crack. will i make it through 15 songs on the iPod today? will you squeak in that weird way that you do when the stride is 500+? will i have to deal with the incomings and outgoings of a multitude of maintenance men and management personnel because your placement in the “workout” room is also where the bathrooms are?

it doesn’t matter.

because i like you. i REALLY like you.

i hope you’ll forgive me my earlier snap judgments and continue to beat the heck out of me for as long as we both shall live. (or at least until i start going to the gym again to run on the treadmill which YOU, dear elliptical, will have made possible for me.)

with the love i only offer to inanimate exercise machines,

your favorite 10am fixture.

dear job,

i think we need some time apart.

i’m grateful for you. i know i am blessed by you. some days, i even have fun with you.

but as of now, i am kinda over you.

two more shifts and we will be parted for at least two months. i think a break is what we need, to remember why we appreciate each other. to remember what it is that’s good about our relationship.

i’ll go about my business, teaching smart english majors about Romantic writers, writing two more dissertation chapters, saving the world. you’ll go about yours, employing poor graduate students, improving grammar and writing skills, freezing employees to death as they sit in your hyper-refrigerated cave-like office.

i’m ready for the break. i may miss you. i don’t know. but i know i’ll be back. because, if nothing else, you pay for bagels.

and some days, that’s all that matters.

enjoy the rest of the summer. i know i will enjoy mine…

tutor girl.

dear scale,

MOVE DOWN.

obliged,

me, who couldn’t possibly be doing anything more.

dear dissertation director,

while it’s summer and i understand that you are out of town doing things with your family that are very important and you are working on your own book and probably getting ready to teach in the fall and doing brilliant things in your own career and are busy with other dissertations because surprise the world does not in fact revolve around me and i so respect and appreciate the fact that you emailed me to tell me that you had in fact received that chapter that i sent you and i am grateful that you are so kind to me when i randomly send you things out of the blue in the middle of a tuesday night, could you maybe hurry up and read it so that i could send it to the other members of my committee so that i can feel like i am progressing and most importantly because nothing is as important as what we do with whiteboard markers so that something could move on my flowchart freakout board?

sigh.

thanks. i’m gonna buy you a big present at the end of all of this, i promise. although i’m beginning to think me being done and out of your hair?

biggest. gift. of. all.

respectfully yours,

yes, i’m working on another chapter and not sitting around, i promise!

so you think you can avoid reality tv?

Posted in celebrities, TV and me are pals on June 11, 2008 by drbolte

read this. and understand, please, when i say the following.

I. DON’T. CARE. if they stay, can we stop talking about them?

still, it is annoying to me that they take their millions and spend them in a foreign country. pretty sure those are American dollars. then again, the movie business is global so i guess the globe can have them.

whatever.

so much for reigniting new orleans, huh? whatever. DON’T CARE.

what i do care about? So You Think You Can Dance.

i LOVES it. lawschoolgirl, stop reading right now if you don’t want to know anything.

i LOVED me some twitch. and joshua and katee with the hiphop soldier tribute? LOVES. so much. napoleon and whatsherbucket are brilliant, and they were outstanding dancers.

i’m hooked. line and sinker. goner. i’ll be plopped in front of my couch to see who goes home. here’s hoping it’s the disco duck twins. they were sad and wearing yellow, something i just can’t abide. we’ll see. of course, did i vote? no. silly. that doesn’t happen until it really matters…

also…THANK THE GOOD HEAVENS that lisa didn’t win top chef. i was worried. the end result was good, but i was just glad that crazy demon girl didn’t get it. gosh, i’ve hated her from the beginning. i wish her success and all of that, but really…blech.

and now, realizing that i have written an entire blog post about reality television and/or celebrity news, i have to go read a book or play chess or something.

sigh.

wordless wednesday: flowchart freakout.

Posted in books are bliss, dissertation, etcetera, grrrrr., School, wordless wednesday on June 11, 2008 by drbolte

momentary zen.

Posted in domestic goddess, etcetera, me on June 10, 2008 by drbolte

sometimes, despite my usual bent towards slovenliness, i find a true peace in manual labor.

the people in my house earlier tonight, there for a weekly church activity, stressed me out. i don’t have a problem with any of them. a few of them annoyed me in the way that people often annoy me when i’m frayed at the edges like i have been the past few days. me and people? not so much getting along. most people in the world require a great deal of patience and compassion to deal with. most days i can handle that. the past few days, for whatever reason (which i believe is mainly due to my level of tiredness which for some reason is astronomically larger than normal and my level of fed-up-edness with this town which always comes when the semester comes to an end and the date of going home draws near), i just can’t.

so when they left, i was glad. i could concentrate on what i wanted to concentrate on, which was reestablishing order in a universe that seemed difficult for me to grasp or understand.  people don’t make sense.  life doesn’t make sense sometimes. nothing dramatic or earth-shaking has to happen for that to be true.  i think most of us exist in a perpetual state of senselessness.

so, instead of trying to understand, i found peace in tracing the straight lines of tile grout with my mop, growing quite pleased with myself as i saw dirt coming up and clean remaining.

i took great comfort in the straight lines the vacuum made as it crossed the floor, over and over again to make sure that everything got picked up.

i felt pride as i scrubbed my tub and saw it, if not gleam, certainly shimmer more.

i grew inordinately excited by glancing at my bookshelf area and seeing a line of dissertation books, sitting neatly side by side rather than piled in a heap.

sometimes i need nights like these that keep me running with the rhythmic intensity of order, of cleanliness, of putting things back into the places that i have made for them. when i am done, even though i have been working hard all night to do things that will not stay perfect for long, i feel more gratified than if i’d spent the night creating or editing or grading or reading something of an infinitely longer-lasting nature.

i’ll get up tomorrow and probably throw some clothes on the floor. the dog will come through the kitchen and dirty up the floor or i will spill something stupid like salad dressing on it and not take the time to really clean it up. the accumulated pollen from outside will get tracked in and my bed may not be perfectly made. i’ll do laundry only to see it pile up again and finish dishes in time only to cook again.

it will all begin again far sooner than i wish.

but tonight, as i go to bed, my world feels right. i can take a deep breath and be pleased.

and do it all again, in some form or fashion, tomorrow.

waiting.

Posted in books are bliss on June 8, 2008 by drbolte

“I remember the first time I saw a lunar eclipse,” he said suddenly, jerking me back to attention. “I was, like, six, and me and my brothers camped out in the backyard to stay up for it. It was the biggest deal.”

“Really.”

“Yeah.” A breeze blew through, spinning the mobiles over my head. “They fell asleep before it even happened, just like my dad predicted, but I remember lying there in my sleeping bag, looking up as the moon just disappeared. And even though I knew what it was, and I was so excited all day waiting for it to happen, I got really scared. Because it doesn’t just come right back, you know? There’s like this long, long time when it’s just gone.”

I didn’t know. I’d never seen one.

“So I ran inside and up to my parents’ room and woke up my dad,” he went on, dipping the brush into the can of paint thinner and swishing it around. “I was freaking. Crying and everything. And my mom kept saying how she’d known I was too young to camp out and how he should have listened to her–this was before the divorce–and my dad kept telling her to be quiet so he could hear what I was saying, because he couldn’t understand me.”

He stopped then, and I thought of the voice on the answering machine, clearing his throat. Waiting.

“What were you saying?” I asked him.

“I was saying,” Norman said, looking outside, “that they took the moon. They were keeping the moon.”

“What did your dad do?”

“He walked me back downstairs and out to the yard, and told me to stop being ridiculous and go to sleep. It wasn’t really a big bonding moment.” He looked back at the painting in front of him, then at me. “But I will never forget how it felt to lie there and wait for it to come back. Because I wasn’t really sure it would. I wanted to believe it as much as I’d always believed the moon could never go away. But I didn’t.”

“But it did come back,” I said. “Eventually.”

“It did,” he agreed, nodding looking right at me.

And I never wanted this to end, could have stayed forever in this tiny universe with the radio playing, Norman watching me, and the breeze just blowing through, warm and sweet.

“But it’s strange,” he went on, “when you’ve always been told something is true, like the moon will come back. You need proof. And while you wait, you feel the entire balance of your world just tipping. It’s crazy. But when it’s over, and it does come back, that’s the best, because it’s all you want, everything narrows to just that. It’s this great rush, like for that one second everything’s okay with the world again. It’s amazing.” He looked up at me and smiled and I thought again how I could be happy spending a lot of time, maybe even forever, earning those.

“You’ll see what I mean,” he said, moving behind the canvas again, out of sight. “You’ll see.”

–Sarah Dessen, Keeping the Moon

I could talk about my weekend, about what I did, about how I’m feeling, or about what I’m aiming to do this week.  But what I think tells you most about me at this moment is that this passage made me cry the kind of tears that only come when you find truth unexpectedly being told in the voice of someone entirely fictional.

Sometimes all we’re afraid of is that someone will keep our moon.  And sometimes the waiting for it to return, and keeping the faith that it will, is the hardest thing we have to do.

leapfrog. play with me.

Posted in i'm so much cooler online, me, oh so very random, the internets, you want me to walk HOW far? on June 5, 2008 by drbolte

you know how this works.

1. elliptical: ? :: treadmill: walking.

YAY! practice for the GRE! but, in case that’s not clear or wrong, i’m basically asking what activity you’re doing while on the elliptical. is it no-impact running/jogging? that’s all i can think of, but i’m wondering if it’s going to get me to my goal of running any quicker or if it’s training my muscles to do something else entirely. like…i don’t know…the cha cha?

2. speaking of…so you think you can dance. anybody see it last night? it’s on again tonight and i’m pretty darn excited. i only caught the last 45 minutes last night, but if you saw it you’re probably going to follow me. and is it possible that what i saw last night was a repeat of last week’s? i dunno.

okay. so crazy knee-locking-up girl who lost weight. listen. if you’ve read here at all in the past two weeks, you know that i am down with people being successful at making healthier life choices. i am even not (completely) averse to talking about it. but when you get militant on t.v. about how you were at the gym every day and start acting like that somehow makes you a better person/you are preaching?

i look at the t.v. and say “SHUT UP.” repeatedly. nobody needs a know-it-all. and…yeah.

also, minister guy? i LIKED him.

but some of those people? where do they get their outfits? someone needs to be their friend and tell them to not do that in public.

3. speaking of…on my (relatively) short walk over to my job from where i park, i cut in front of two guys, one of whom was on the phone. he was talking to someone about something (hey, i am nothing if not observant) and then he told the person on the phone “okay, i’ll give you a call later so that we can go tan.”

a GUY.

a GUY said this.

a GUY in a polo shirt said this.

i don’t understand.

but it makes me feel at once happy and sad for our world. vanity is not only a female condition! whoo! one more stereotype struck down. sing out, sister suffragette!

4. speaking of (voting)…obama. your thoughts? hillary. your thoughts?

i just want the whole election to be over with, because i just don’t like anybody. it’s like choosing between getting a really swift kick in the butt or a really hard punch in the gut. either way, it’s going to hurt and you’re going to see stars.

and, no, i am not immune to the fact that obama is the first african-american nominee for the presidency, and, yes, in theory i am quite pleased with a world in which such things could happen. nevertheless…gut or butt? because that’s what i’m thinking.

5. speaking of…anyone know any good crunches? i’ve been doing, you know, the regular kind and some kind of lame reverse crunch where my legs are straight in the air and i bring them down to horizontal (or, let’s be real, to like a 45 degree angle because I! HAVE! NO! AB! STRENGTH!), but those HURT and at some point last week my body stopped letting me do them. i’m not feeling my ab muscles much, so i’m wondering if not being sore is a bad thing. should i be in immeasurable amounts of pain, considering i’ve been doing them for like two weeks now just about every day? i have been drinking water like a crazy nut job, and i remember from my time watching the biggest loser (who says reality t.v. can’t enhance your life?!?) that when you drink enough water, you flush all the lactic acid out of your system so that you don’t get sore.

is this a lie? someone? anyone? everyone?

6. speaking of (water)…guess where i’ll be on saturday? the beach.

you know you’re jealous.

7. speaking of…guess what i discovered? for less than $4, you too can have beach wavy hair. it’s all due to a little product i like to call “heaven in a bottle” but is actually called “waves of envy” by sunsilk. remember how i wanted to see if i could do something with this natural curl i have in my hair, instead of fighting with it all of the time in the summertime humidity?

this product has singlehandedly made my summer. i am the lazy hair queen! i spray it in, scrunch it a little bit, and have wavy hair during the day. does it look perfect? no, but then again, i don’t do ANYTHING to it, so it’s gotta be a whole lot healthier than blowdrying it every day. i think i might be a little bit in love.

and it smells like grapefruit.

yes, please.

8. speaking of…you know what IS so good? blueberry bagels. with peanut butter. i know it sounds gross. but it’s like bliss. bliss on a stick. and i love it. yumz.

here’s what’s not so good. 40 minutes on the elliptical, 10 minutes of walking, drink 30 ounces of water…on an empty stomach. then take a shower and try to go to work…still on an empty stomach.

my body no likey me.

9. speaking of…YOU likey me! leave me a comment. tell me anything. DELURK! you gotta. it’s leapfrog! it’s gotta leap somewhere. so…what’d these things make YOU think about?