A New Year

I had a wonderful New Years. It got a little over shadowed by my 30 hour journey to get home, but it shouldn’t have. I had a great time visiting my… friend… I tried new food… I discovered the joy that is hushpuppies. But let’s face it, deep fry anything and it’s going to be pretty fucking great. Actually the food was a bit of a shock to my system and I did get a little sick.

Since when did I develop such a sensitive stomach? Two weeks ago I experienced the second coming of the ribs incident and this last weekend I got up in the wee hours of the morning to experience the reincarnation of the Southern cooking. I don’t get why this is happening.

He and I had our gift exchange. I don’t think that I have ever received such thoughtful gifts from one person… although I received mixed messages by receiving a stocking full of my favorite candy (Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups) and a pedometer. I guess so I can eat all the peanut butter-chocolatey goodness, then get my ass outside and run it off…

I told him last night that I haven’t set the pedometer yet, but I think it will be easy to do. He replied, “It makes it a lot easier to set if you take it out of the box.” I was appalled.

“I have totally taken it out of the box!” (please note: “Totally taken it out of the box” means that I removed it from the toiletry bag I had carried back in, set it on the bathroom counter and proceeded to look at it while I brushed my teeth.) But he doesn’t need to necessarily know that we might have different definitions…

Is that a guys way of trying to ensure that a chick doesn’t think he’s implying anything about her weight? Buy her an exercise gadget… but then follow it up with candy. “Baby, of course I don’t think your fat… I bought you bags of candy!”

I had an amazing beginning to the New Year and a great time in my first trip to the South. And I didn’t curse almost my entire time there… and he was worried that I would… let us not forget, I am a very good girl when I choose to be.

I am trying to keep this momentum and new philosophy that Beach Chic and I are trying to uphold by “adding to our plate and not to our glass”. (Meaning: partying = adding to our glass, doing things to improve ourselves = adding to our plate. I have talked to her about a few things and she has responded with, “That is definitely adding to your glass and not your plate.”)

So yesterday I enrolled in almost a full class load for this spring term… I haven’t been in school in about three years, and I am a little nervous. I am going to take a fiction writing course. As I have not provided enough time to allow my transcripts to get to the school prior to the start of the semester next week, I need to go today and taking a writing assessment exam. Brilliant. Can’t they just read my blog?!?! Oh… never mind. I’ll be there at noon to take said exam.

After registering for my classes and purchasing my books I called my mother and told her about my new expensive endeavor. I expressed how much more it costs than I thought… and how poor I am now. I joked about needing to put on a bake sale for myself… but then I found out it included "baking"... so I had to choose alternative methods of payment. Unfortunately my mother didn't agree that her name was "alternative". Damn it.

I think my mother, as happy that she is that I am an independent (please note: I fully recognize that that word is being used on a sliding scale) woman... is highly looking forward to me getting hitched so I can stop relying on her for all the things I can't afford (or would rather not pay for). I am sorry, but, I didn’t ask to be born.

Although I suppose I understand that after five majors and eight years of school… without a “Dr.” in front of my name, she might not be so willing to jump on the “OCG education fund” bandwagon.

I hope that I can keep these things from my plate down… without becoming too overwhelmed by jumping back in the education saddle and heaving it all back up…