20 November 2007

When will we be done changing?

At this point in time, on a Tuesday morning in November, I am a very random, vacillating individual. So, in order to share a little bit more about myself, here are 10 truths about Andrea that you are just dying to know:

1. I buy used books that I may or may not read someday. For instance, I have 2 copies of Homer's "The Odyssey," four volumes of "The Best American Short Stories," and a set of Ernest Hemingway's complete writings (hardback, spotless dust jackets, and all short stories (either finished or not), and novels). Maybe someday I'll crack the spine and read all of Hemingway's short stories. If not, my posterity is bound to inherit bookshelves full of literature-- all with my name written in pencil on the first blank recto.

2. Tyra Banks is my annoying hero. Not only has she conquered the runway, posed in gowns (that are worth more than my car) for magazines (whose fan bases are larger than the population of my state), canoodled with "noted fashion photographers" and "runway divas extraordinaire," but she has managed to take over daytime television AND host my favorite show, "America's Next Top Model." As well, she is the running joke of "The Soup" and YouTube. Take for instance, this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jOR4qekHWlA Now, if only I could walk into my 101 class and say, "Now today, I would like to give you the gift of. . . tools to write POETRY! Poetry poetry poetry!" and all my students would jump up screaming, "I've got tools to write poetry!" and then I could run around the classroom, fall on the floor, and point to everyone saying, "And you have tools! And you! And you! And you!"

3. I am on my way to weighing 600 pounds, and my evidence is my newfound favorite foods, which include: Idaho Pizza Company breadsticks, Sonic mozzarella sticks, fries, oriental flavored Top Ramen noodles, sour gummi worms, and Toblerone chocolate in all its triangular glory.

4. When I was 14, my parents gave me $10 to kiss a banana slug. There you go.

5. Mostly, I think graduating from college is overrated. I forget half of the time that I even have a diploma. The pictures are cute though:


6. I can't stand touching raw meat. I think my (future) husband and children will just have to like mushroom burgers, black beans, and other meat-ish fakeouts. That, or we'll eat at Applebee's all the time.

7. In high school and my first year of college, I worked at Hollywood Video. Not only did I take my job very seriously, but I also rented over 300 movies in a span of less than 2 years. The sad part is that I probably watched 299 of them. To this day, walking into a video store gives me wobbly knees and activates my gagging reflex. Go, Netflicks!

8. I drive a Korean-made car that is purple.

9. Sometimes, I fear that I am way too weird for any guy to stand being around me for more than a day. And sometimes, I am reminded that that quality is exactly what I love most about Brett:


10. In conclusion, the last fact that I'd like to leave you with is simply this: Andrea + blogging = manifestation of all the randomness, complete with colors and pictures and oddly (read: "awk") phrased sentences. Enjoy!

13 November 2007

Elliot's Surgery

A few weeks ago, Elliot suddenly became aware of the season change: allergies kicked in, little squirrels and gophers in the yard, and a slow descent into darkness. . . rather literally.

Elliot's eyes get kinda yucky when his allergies kick in, so we didn't really think too much about his sudden sensitiveness to being touched around his eyes. He has eye drops and medication (hmm... just like his human friends!) to help with this chronic disease. However, when my mom was giving him a bath and was checking out his eyes, she noticed a rather large hole in his left eye. Yes, you read that correctly: a hole. Screaming, she tore down to the vet's office (really, we keep them in business) and Elliot was immediately rushed into surgery to save his eyeball! He punctured the top two layers of his eye and pierced his cornea on something very sharp and very painful.

Luckily, our vet is amazing and was able to save Elliot from being a one-eyed dog! The vet was able to take skin from his under Elliot's eyelid and graft over the puncture wound, but the little doggie probably won't be able to see out of most of his left eye. Home-care has been pretty intense with pain and anti-inflammatory medication and three different kinds of eye drops. He also wears a head cone-- and if you have a dog, you know how funny and sad this can be for an animal-- and can't jump, descend stairs, or do anything fun.


The pain medicine keeps him pretty much knocked out, but I still feel bad for him. Good thing he's a pretty tough little guy! At least I have some company while trying to finish my 598 Inquiry-based research project and while trying to read Hawthorne's "The House of the Seven Gables" for Thursday.

11 November 2007

Fall

I don't have office hours on Friday, so I grabbed a few books from my office and left campus around 12:40 after my 101 class. There was only one problem: the EMA Moveable Feast (discussion of D.H. Lawrence's Lady Chatterley's Lover) was at 5 p at Linda Marie's house on 8th street downtown. To kill time, I decided to go by Walmart to buy deodorant and other toiletries; however, after I surveyed the parking lot-- strewn grocery carts, families of 10 children, and the like-- I passed Walmart and went into the Goodwill instead, where I scavenged the racks and found two amazingly cheap items: raspberry cotton blazer (from American Eagle!) and a BCBG khaki-colored skirt that falls past my knees (a big deal when standing in front of classroom of girls and boys). Hooray for cheap (dollar-wise) clothing!

But, the problem still remained: 3.5 hours until the Moveable Feast. So I called my loving boyfriend and discovered that he was on his way to Wendy's. Nothing says "I love you" like devouring deep-fried, crispy golden fries and diabetes-causing Mountain Dew together while the molecules in my body multiply, divide, and rearrange to generously cushion my derriere. A few weeks ago, I invented the "chicken nugget shot" for those of us germ-phobes that will not touch food after shopping for hours (esp. in a used clothing store): lick the sauce, tilt the nugget carton back, and "shoot" the nugget into your mouth. I'm a genius. But I ate my nuggets in relative normalness this time.

The hours until 5 pm closed in; I drove to Memorial Park (Brett had to go to work), parallel parked, and proceeded to read Janet Holmes's F2F for class on Monday. Just imagine: yellow leaves falling outside, the crisp autumn air seeping through the cracks in my doors, blue skies, and seventeen fat squirrels (yes, I counted seventeen!) frolicking around the park. . . as E careens through reflective ponds, attics, and hell. As I watched the corpulent squirrels (seriously, tuck and roll on the furry creatures!) dance and squeak and dig up random brown objects which they then jammed into their mouths, a flashback of Utah's Hogle Zoo prairie dogs entered my mind:


(Don't worry, little one, I know how you feel.)

The EMA Moveable Feast reminds me of how lucky (and perhaps stupid) I am to care enough about my dreams to forego "making bank"-- as one of my students puts it-- to sit around a table at Linda Marie's house, eat cranberry and apple muffins, and drink home-made grape juice while talking about an incredibly seedy and, frankly, disgusting novel. That's OK; I was in good company.

I hope you're well, doing something you love too.

04 November 2007

subliminal advertising?

Basically, I need to get back to work, but I thought I'd share this, because I'm a crazy crazy dork: I am incessantly coughing and am trying to mentally stop this involuntary bodily function in time for my 101 class tomorrow (how awkward can it be when your teacher is turning red, sweating, and hacking up a lung while trying to suck on cough drops and drink water while still coughing. . .) when a Vicks commercial appeared magically on T.V. Little green upside-down pyramids dropped to earth and comforted little rosy-cheeked children tucked into bed. I can wish, can't I?