In Which I Finish Sophomore Year and Do Some Kickboxing

I'm a bit displaced from the last time I blogged.
I am now sitting about 3 final exams, 1 final paper, 220 miles, and 10 days away from my last post.

Hi.

So, as said displacement has left me a tad scrambled, and as 10 blog-free days tends to make one even more discombobulated (to borrow a word from my 5th grade teacher), you may have to put up with some sporadicity. Bear with me here.

Finals were good. As I mentioned 10 days ago, I had two finals on Monday, a final paper due Tuesday, and another final Thursday. Honestly, I felt that I performed pretty solidly on all of the above. It was absolutely wonderful to have all day Tuesday and Wednesday to study for Art History on Thursday.

As for the paper, well, let's just say that if you ever need to talk to someone about A Streetcar Named Desire as a Gothic Novel, I'm your girl. 6 pages of epic analysis, with an outside source included just because I could. Not to brag or anything.

And now, as I said, I am at home. On the couch. With my trusty laptop on my lap, A Secret Life of Bees at my elbow, and the Sunday crossword within reach. I feel deserving of this luxurious lifestyle because: a) I had to write a paper and take 3 final exams last week, b) I had to work at Target at 8 this morning, which means I had to wake up at 6:15, and c) after work I did a half hour of kickboxing with Denise Austin. I found the VHS tape in the basement and thought I'd try it out. Denise seemed nice at first, but after about 15 minutes she started looking fairly masochistic. That was around the time when I figured out that whenever she said, "Don't worry if you can't do this yet; you'll get there soon," she really meant: "This is going to hurt, you out of shape loser, because I'm not going to stop until you're on the floor, panting like a winded rhino, and drenched in sweat."

Mom just brought home a pizza for dinner. Kiss it, Denise.

I'll talk to you guys soon.

P.S. I feel like I need to add this sentimental tidbit right here at the end: it was really strange to leave Morris last Thursday knowing that I wouldn't be back until January. When I hugged all my friends goodbye I had to keep saying, "I'll see you next Spring." Weird. I still haven't wrapped my head around Austria, despite the fact that I'm officially going now. That's right, I put down my ridiculously large initial deposit (I don't want to talk about it), and on Saturday Mom insisted on buying me a German/English dictionary and a Rick Steve guidebook. Nothing seals the deal quite like Rick Steve.