I feel a little like I've gotten off the chairlift at the veeeery top of a mountain, and am peering over the edge into oblivion (or a double-black-diamond, take your pick), and i'm not feeling quite steady on the board yet.
New semester, and all that.
Here's my list of commitments through April:
-LINGUIST List: 35-40 hours per week. Manage (and completely rebuild) QC. Get teh IntrAnets working. Fund Drive. Year of the Pig.
A) Phonology, with the foremost Natural Grammar/Cognitive Grammar theorist (or so he says). He Wrote the Book (literally, we're using a draft textbook). Fortunately, I seem to have more than sufficient groundwork in place because of multiple intro classes and cognition last semester. Pray it lasts.
B) Discourse Analysis, with my boss, and so far it looks almost like a creepy re-run of Decidedly Abnormal Language Acquisition (from the past summer). However, I have yet to actually attend the class, so I suppose time will tell. However, in Albuquerque I declared my passion for discourse, pragmatics, and all things of that nature, and as the first LL-er to show a desire to proceed in the subfield, Helen has already penciled in my 'A'.
-CVS Pharmacy: This is almost a lark, with everything else I have committed to. 8-10 hours a week? No sweat. Mon-Thurs, on the go from 7:30 a.m. to 9 p.m. with nary (well, barely) a break? Could get mighty interesting around here.
Oh yeah, and I have a boyfriend under all that. Who, while I was in Albuquerque, repeatedly exclaimed over the phone about "how very far away you are..." (sounding a wee bit like Piglet..."I'm only a very small animal..."), and who further, upon my return, gazed dreamily at me and when asked to share his thoughts, proclaimed that he was "just pondering what the future holds for us". (He then drew my attention to the word /us/, in a manner which told me he wanted me to be proud of him for putting it out on the line like that. However, the next day he tried to argue that I can't take anything he says while drunk that seriously. I can agree with this, but then again, he wasn't drunk at the time. What a goofball).
In other news:pelvicqueen
landed a hot spot at a PR firm in Ferndale, and so is leaving the dreary halls of Driktech behind. Much congratulations are in order, and Our Plans for Apartmentage continue.sweetfreesia
is engaged. To Dave. (I don't have a username for him). Sorry, paradoxymoron
, now you can stop asking if she has a boyfriend. It's official. And gimme my hard drive back. You can swing by CVS on Telegraph south of Michigan Ave tomorrow night, in fact, if you want.
So, the dieting continues apace. Mom already says she thinks I may have dropped a pound or three already, but we'll see what Mr. Scale has to say about that in the morning. I think I mentioned everyone who reads this journal by name, except, of course, blacktigr
, both of whom (who? whose journals, I guess) I read voraciously with no knowledge of whether or not they know that. And that last sentence functions as some sort of gauge which has just edged into the red, telling me to shut up and go to bed before my brain explodes. Or LJ does. Anyhow, over and out, space monkey.
Oh, before I go, the tattoos part of the title. Ryan and I had started joking about getting tattoos (me a small winnie-the-pooh one in some hip or pelvic-type region, him a spartan-themed one on a bicep), but he appears to be taking this seriously. sweetfreesia
, you need to tell me if this is a Better Idea or Worse Idea than us getting our noses pierced. Right. Good night.