First things first.

Malone_Hood_Plaza_University_of_AlabamaAs many of you know because I have mentioned it no less than seven thousand and eleven times, I’ve been in school.

Ideally I would have graduated high school and gone directly through college as so many do – partying and schlepping laundry and staying up in coffee houses. I did that for a minute, but I was restless and antsy and thought getting married was the best thing to do.

And I did. I got married and had babies. Then I got divorced. Remarried.

I found myself an adult who never understood living for myself or working toward a goal. I inhabited the work force with no forward thought. I didn’t really know what I could do for myself.

I decided to go back to school. I decided it like I decide most  things, all at once and with everything I have. campus-slideshow

I quickly found that all the time and money I’d wasted was just that – wasted. I had to start from scratch, as barely any of the credits I’d taken years before were the correct ones or in the right order.

It seemed like it would never end. Every semester I found new classes that were necessary, new layers I needed, more work to do. Twice I began a semester convinced that it would be my last only to realize a week or so later that I had miscalculated transfer credits or requirement hours.

I gave up. I gave up a lot. In registering for this semester I was greeted with warnings and alerts that my financial aid was at an end and that after this spring semester I would no longer qualify for any federal grants, which had been my life blood in funding my quest.

I was left with eighteen hours needed and one semester to take them all. My advisor told me it was unwise and that taking too many hours would increase the likelihood that I would do poorly overall. I did it anyway, I had no choice.

And now this week, it’s over.

I have always felt, in most any milestone I’ve encountered, that something was off. I always felt like I was sneaking by, getting through on technicalities.

I feel this way now, I won’t lie. I feel like in two weeks someone will say, “Oh, nevermind. You skipped that discussion question and we can’t let you graduate.” 

Maybe that won’t happen. In the meantime, though, I will just be glad that I may have succeeded in something I thought I’d missed out on. And I’m kind of proud.graduation-hats

Embarking

I could give you reasons I've been gone so long.

 

Except that would be stupid.

 

Cheesy as it sounds, one of my resolutions in the New Year is to reestablish myself on this blog. To do that, however, I have to convince myself I have things to say.

I do, of course I do. I think. I also have to learn to ignore “Hey Mom. Hey Mom. Mom. Hey Mom.”

Anyway, a new year. 2014.

I can't even believe that's real. I'm looking forward to the things the new year can bring, all the promise and fresh starts. I'm sure I'll be over it soon, but for now it's fun to be so full of promise.

 

Who thought up New Year's Resolutions? What sick sadist (is it sadist? Masochist? Whichever of the whips and chains likes to dole out the pain) thought it up? And why do we do it?

I accomplished some stuff in 2013. I started a new job. I gained some weight which is not so much an accomplishment as just a fact. I started watching Doctor Who and Sherlock. I finished another semester of school and now there is light at the end of the tunnel.

I love you. I promise not to suck so much this year.

 

 

Random things I contemplated putting in this post but didn't:

The Simpsons is the best show in the history of animation.

Wine is unbelievable.

I've started getting zits. Like hardcore acne. What the fuck?

I got the Depo Provera shot in August (I think) and please for the love of all that is holy please never do that to yourself.

Josh now has a whole building for the podcast. He's well on his way to being very hotshot and official.

See you soon.

 

Almost Christmas Confessions

This is hard to write. Hard to admit, I guess.

In the grand scheme of things – all the horribleness that has assaulted the innocent in the past week – it’s nothing. Less than nothing, and for that I am so grateful. I forget (on a daily basis) how lucky I am.

Still.

Selfishly, self-centeredly, I don’t want to admit this. I feel like by being honest and putting this out there that I am inviting disappointment. All of those who have said they were so proud of me, all of those who have told me I was doing the right thing, I feel like this is just a great big middle finger to that.

I got my grades yesterday.

I failed a class.

The rest of them I passed, and that’s about it.

I am not used to this.

Last semester I was on the Dean’s List. I was so proud of myself.

And now, this.

The class wasn’t hard. It just required effort. And the hard truth of the matter is that I didn’t give it the effort.

It was my first semester working and doing school, and I thought it would be cake. School, work, kids. No problem.

I was so cocky, and now because this is my own fault I feel like I’m not even really allowed to be upset over it.

I may never finish school. And it’ll be my own fault.