At Least Partial Triumph and Enthusiasm

What a day this has been, crickets. And by “day” I mean "several months." Honestly, I’ve lost count.

The day began with another parking ticket (that's THREE outstanding tickets, ah, ah, ah) and another meeting re: the "Everything Will Stay Exactly the Same!" Merger. But then I found out I will most likely NOT be losing my job within the next 10 days. Which is nice.

Week 2 of class #1 was far more successful than Week 1 of classes and NFL season combined. (It’s not hard to be more successful than my NFL Week 1. I was eliminated from my last-man-standing pool. I know, it’s shocking. I still can’t believe it.) Although I made a rookie error on my way to class last night, I recovered beautifully and found the correct parking garage (i.e., the one that gives discounts to JHU students) on the heretofore elusive N Street. It’s good to know that N Street isn’t hanging out with J Street, somewhere out in oblivion. So, obviously, that was successful. My professor found my story idea for the first assignment “provocative” and “creative.” And also “complicated.” We’ll see which of those two ways it will go.

Today, I’m hoping against hope to avoid a repeat of the Christina’s Homewood Wilderness Adventure from last week. You’d think this outcome would be within my control, but really, I’m just not sure. In anticipation of disappointment, I brought flip flops.

The weekend: the game went well, because I did not allow myself to watch it. The man on my right ate seven hotdogs in about a half hour. I have never seen his equal. His brother confided in me, “I think he might die.” Seems a surety to me, at some point, anyway. The one on my left got cinnamon sugar in his hair because I’m not very good at “maneuvering” (how’s that for a subtle shout-out, Gilly? Ahh, the wonders of stat counters…). Later that night, I pretended to be my version of single (which, I guess, is some people’s version of married) by watching back-to-back-to-back episodes of Felicity on the couch in my bathrobe.

I got a haircut I’m not too fond of on Saturday, but thus far my mom has been the only one to notice, so I guess it’s not very drastic. Believe it or not, it really is surprising that this news has escaped The Boy’s attention, given his usual over-attention to detail in this arena. For example, in the rain one day, “Wow, honey. You’re hair’s lookin’ a little frizzy there,” or, on a day I did nothing to my hair, “I like your hair like that. It looks 20 times better than the way you normally wear it,” or, the next day, immediately after I had dried and attempted to straighten it, “Oh, so you’re back to wearing it all flat again, huh?”

Little Sister’s team did not win their soccer game, but she was the MVP of the game. Watching her, it occurred to me that she touched the ball more in half her game than I did my entire two seasons. You should have SEEN me run though. With the grace of a gazelle. It is widely observed and admired. Really.

I was only about 10 minutes late for the 7:45 am Sunday call. My punctuality was noted and appreciated. With that extra time, I set up two superfluous mic stands. The potential benefit for my ineptitude in this area is that it might get me out of doing so much work. I’m still undecided if there is a benefit at all.

Sunday afternoon we revisited our future casa, and I mentioned no fewer than 12 times that I would like it better with shutters and flower boxes in the windows. The Boy could have sworn it had exposed brick. I think we’re going to have to fake it. So far, I haven’t been privy to much of The Boy’s handyman prowess, beyond what he tells me, but I sincerely hope he’s more Bob Vila than Tim the Toolman Taylor. Time will tell. Sometimes I think maybe it’s a blessing that I won’t move in until May… a return to Sundays on the couch for this dynamic duo, which was nice, and ç’est ça for us.

Tonight I begin the multi-night sleepover with Little Sister and Tucker, the beagle. She called last night, “Aren’t you SO excited?! I told EVERYONE at school that my SISTER is watching me! It’s gonna be AWESOME! I’m cooking dinner on Wednesday. Can Tucker sleep with us? You don’t mind if I sleep with you, do you? We’re going to have SO MUCH FUN!” Fortunately, she has enough enthusiasm for the both of us. Or, the three of us, as it were.