So, I'm sitting awkwardly in the Collegium Room, on the off-chance that someone wants to come in here to check in an instrument.
One jury down, one more to go, plus a couple papers ("term" papers that have not really gotten past the planning stage, although one of them had a draft due two days ago), and then I'm done. Yet, I still don't feel like it's the end. But this isn't another post to brag about my procrastination skills.
Andy hasn't blogged in forever. He was telling me yesterday how much he hates blogging, and hates everyone who reads and writes them. He said he'd never be caught dead blogging, "from this point on" (i.e., about 8:30 pm yesterday), and that he would severely judge any and everyone who maintained or read a blog.
Today, I wore a skirt to school because I had a jury. When I got to class, I realized that the lining of my skirt had ridden up like crazy, leaving my slip quite exposed (thank goodness I decided to wear a slip!). Had it been like that all the way across campus? Did anyone notice? Were they all laughing at me? Is my picture going to be on someone else's blog, laughing about the girl with her backpack on her front, a cello on her back, and showing her business to the whole world?? Will it do the same when I walk back to my car? Stay tuned for more details.
I need to write more. I used to write all the time. My journaling has even fallen off. I used to write tomes about unrequited love, and other such Romantic topics, but I guess ever since Andy and I started dating, I lost a big chunk of subject matter. Requited love just isn't fun to read about. I mean, the first 80 minutes of every romantic comedy are when the girl and the guy hate each other. It just wouldn't be the same if the whole movie were about them liking each other.
I miss writing. I haven't even written papers this semester (not even the ones I was supposed to have written)! I'm going to get soft, and then when I try to write my novel (subject TBD), all my skillz will have fallen by the wayside.
When I was a little girl, I used to want to be an author. I would write stories all the time, just for fun. It was my favorite thing to do.
I also used to watch cooking shows somewhat obsessively. Graham Kerr was my favo(u)rite, but I also watched Great Chefs, Julia Child, and Yan Can Cook. I liked to bake, but I wasn't very interested, really, in what they were cooking. I just liked to learn new words, like "pilaf" (though I probably would have spelled it "pelouf"), and learn the proper way to fold things into batter and so forth. I don't recall ever trying a recipe.
Now, I still like to watch cooking shows. I love cookbooks, and even though I rarely follow the recipes, I love to read them and look at the pretty pictures.
I still like to write, too. I even like to write papers (just not either of these papers, I suppose)!
Maybe I'll write a cookbook.
No one is coming in to return an instrument; I am going home.
Wish me luck with the skirt.
(The picture has nothing to do with this post. It's just that I, as the result of having seen Christopher Guest and company in concert last weekend, have rediscovered my love for him.)