looking back on today:

hello, readers!

another year ends. at this rate, i'll be lying face up in a rosewood coffin soon. 2008 was an epic year in many ways: birth of the iphone, record gas prices, 2008 olympics in beijing, &c. while i scarcely compare to such milestones in our world's history, i believe that 2008 was also an interesting year in the life of andrea. i'm no obama-- and don't pretend to be-- but here's a little blog post dedicated to giving me some "media" attention beyond my previous blog posts:

in 2008, i moved 3 times: from my parents' house to vista, to the yellow house in hillview, and to my own lovely apartment.

in 2008, my ipod music collection grew from 0 on 12/25/2007 to its now present size of 1573 songs and 2 videos.

in 2008, i was officially single for the entire year. the dating scene appalls me in so many ways. but in 2008, i also shopped around a little and unofficially hung out with: an immature army boy/fling from high school, a book-reading boy from the navy, a deceivingly perfect-for-me MFA student with nerdy glasses, a cardiologist, a tall army engineer from hawaii who reads hunter s. thompson, a tortured emo kid, and my ex of 4 years.

in 2008, i fell in love with japanese delicacies: sushi, miso soup, and saki.




in 2008, i experienced las vegas for the first time. with kim at my side, we explored airports, casinos, dark and smoky clubs, limousines, designer clothes shops, the bellagio fountains, the best sausage ever, swimming pools, andrea getting carded to buy a bottle of water (yes, it really happened), a bonafide VIP suite at studio 54, and dangerous cab rides.


in 2008, i became a gaming nerd. from fowl words on miniclip to rock band on xbox to color junction on igoogle, i started losing sleep over the arrangements of dangerously attractive pixels.


in 2008, i jealously coveted young hollywood's glamour.


in 2008, i learned more about teaching and read more teaching theory-- to no avail and to great impact, simultaneously.

in 2008, i witnessed two namings of america's next top model through the glorious, all-real television: plus-size southern belle whitney and painfully gorgeous mckey.

in 2008, i wrote a lot. i dabbled in creative nonfiction, and my love for poetry was renewed with ENGl 406G. i journaled almost every day from may to october. i wrote finalized 13 poems, and i am the most proud of my creative writing that i've ever been.

in 2008, i ended my teaching career at boise state. i also gave up my totally sweet office.


in 2008, i discovered ed hardy and betsey johnson.

in 2008, i was walked on and taken advantage of. in 2008, i lied, cried, and vowed revenge. in 2008, i was scared, lonely, and vulnerable. in 2008, i was selfish, self-centered and vain. in 2008, i saw a chance for a brighter discontent.

in 2008, my friend amy got married, as did my high school crush.

in 2008, i became an educated woman.



in 2008, i presently look forward to a better 2009. my deepest, most sincere wishes to you in the new year-- always.

tell me what you don't like about yourself.

a few years ago, i unassumingly flipped through television channels and stopped: on my screen in a dashing blue collared shirt, dr. christian troy pouted with his perfectly shaped bottom lip to his plastic surgery partner sean mcnamara about sucking the fat out of a size 2. words like "ethics" blurred with the sound of expensive shiny shoes tapping on the floor. a gorgeous white lamp glowed in the background.

when i subscribed to netflix, i browsed through the TV section (bad bad bad bad idea), and found "nip/tuck." i added all seasons. approximately 3 months later, i've watched all four seasons, or approximately 24 discs, or roughly 72 episodes.

let me attempt to explain how i could fall so in love with ryan murphy's brilliant show about plastic surgery in south beach, miami (even though it's actually filmed in los angeles):

1. the characters are dramatic but three dimensional. christian is a womanizer (oh. womanizer. oh.) but was sexually abused as a foster child by his father. sean tries to fix his son conor's disability because he, at one point in time, suffered from a physical abnormality that caused his parents to divorce. ava is really a man. and julia is beautiful, smart, and tragic.

2. after watching a DVD extra on the set design for "nip/tuck," i can't stop craving cold furniture, circular reflection ponds, and green & gray together. everything about this show's sets makes me dreamy.

3. you learn valuable lessons like: don't take blood money from drug lords because bad people like escobar gallardo will demand a facial reconstruction and then point a gun at your head, don't take a pretty face home from a bar or you may wake up without a kidney, and don't believe a man's rating system-- an 8 is wonderful.

4. joely richardson is magnificent. i love her. l.o.v.e her.

5. speaking of miss joely, john hensley is actually only 12 years younger than joely-- even though he plays her 18-year-old son on the show.

6. gerbils shit. a lot. and flushing them down the toilet is not a good idea.

7. just when i think i am numb and can't possibly be moved by anything, "nip/tuck" explores the devastating effects of alzheimers and a dedicated wife who undergoes intense surgery to look 20 years younger so her sick husband will recognize her. and julia decides to leave sean (again) but runs back to him outside the airport and whispers: "i love you, you know" as she wraps her slender arms around his neck. and christian is raped-- by a man.

8. everyone has flaws. some you can't see; others you can; all are what make us human.

a dear student

i complain a lot, don't i? it's such a misrepresentation of my life; i am continually reminded of the many blessings that enrich and complete me.

for example:

1. i have a fabulous new apartment all to myself. i can set the heater at 62 (please believe it, because anything else is a waste of money; that's why God invented fleece zip-ups and socks), i never have to look at a dirty dish collecting mold on the kitchen table, and i have a great view of several trees and an empty pond.

2. i love my peers, and i almost cried tonight when i walked to my car after saying goodbye to jessica after our last 561 class of the semester-- of ever.

3. i realize that no phd program will ever accept me based on my lack of scholarly research, publications, etc., but at least i don't slander the literary name like jodie foster did in "the brave one": she used robert frost's line of poetry "i could not stop for death so he kindly stopped for me" as her justification for her vigilante killing spree.

4. on the last day of 101, one of my students came up to me afterwards and said he was sad that our class was over. (insert my heart breaking here.)

then he asked if it was okay that he signed up for an hour block to go over his portfolio with me during conferences. he said our unit 3 conference helped him a lot and he wanted to make sure he had enough time for the portfolio conference. both unit 3 and portfolio conferences were optional. (insert pieces of broken heart breaking into smaller pieces.)

and then during our hour long conference going over two of his poems, he said, "can i come back later this week to talk about my short story? this is so helpful. i don't know what i'd do without you."

i thought my students had stolen my soul, tortured it with their eye-rolling, taunted it with their finger-guns silently blowing out their nonexistent brains, and crushed its vibrant desires into runny pulp and squelched dreams. but this student's comments reminded me that i do indeed still have a soul.

and that soul will miss teaching.

i'm not in denial... i just refuse to listen to your truth.

i graduate in approximately 9 days. in 9 days, i could drive across the country. in 9 days, i could listen to "brighter discontent" by the submarines over 3,103 times. in 9 days, i will be unemployed.

my impending poverty makes me question my recent purchases that could have provided 6 months of groceries, like the above betsey johnson dress. add the ed hardy watch and you're approaching 8. add the nina shoes and you're at 10. add my diamond necklace and you're at 2.5 years. all for one outfit. (i'll insert here that the black shrug was only $6 on clearance at vanity!) the occassion that calls for such extravagance: the 4th annual english majors association banquet.

nevermind that the theme of said banquet was "the great depression." boxes of baking soda, mac and cheese, and canned corn were the centerpieces. a brown, worn boot accepted donations.

two of my friends' fathers have been laid off in the past week. another friend works 2 jobs and complains about the whiny "masters holders" that work at starbucks with her. the career center rep from BSU bemoans the sudden dearth of off-campus job postings.

i'd like to think that even albertson's needs someone to arrange the red, shiny apples just right. or some lazy CEO needs a girl to staple his revised budget reports and proposed productivity increases. or bath and body works needs an "elf" in a green apron to offer product scents and squirts of lotion.

leave me to my denial. let me bask in the glory of unfulfilled expectations. it's nothing that i'm not used to.