How are you doing?

I ran into a former colleague on campus today and she asked me how I was doing. Not in a general way, but in a pointed, concerned, how are you doing? I wanted to tell her the truth. I wanted to say:

"Great! I've been watching Million Dollar Decorators and Dexter and I just love it. Don't you wish real life was more like that?"

or

"Fantastic! I've been drinking more water and eating bananas and taking probiotics and I feel better than ever. Thank you so much for noticing!"

or

"Stressed. I tried to order my personalized playing cards for the wedding from The Knot wedding shop, but then I miscalculated the discount so I tried to add 10 more decks to the order and then miscalculated it again and wanted to go back down to the original order and now the original charge isn't showing up in my online banking and their customer service hours are in PST time which I think is Pacific which I can never figure out except it's really late because when we play UCLA in football the game doesn't start until 10. Y'know?"

or

"Indecisive. I'm putting together my wedding registry and can't quite picture every room in my future home so I just keep registering for different types of the same thing in different colors just in case. Also, do you think I'll ever need a ramekin?"

But instead I just said that I finished grad school. It's really the perfect response. Specific, current, academic, and a complete thought that needs no supporting details to make sense. How are you? Fine, I finished grad school. Congratulations! Good seeing you. Exit.

I can't say that I wished more people truly told me how they were. My friends, yes. Family, bring it on. Funny strangers, absolutely. Students, waiters, janitors, landlords - keep it to yourself. But it would be nice to run into these former colleagues and get a 30 second snap shot of their actual lives and thoughts and activities that day. We pass each other so formally now, in between meetings on campus or in the food court at the union. It would be so great if we could just dial back in to those times we used to work together, and pick up as if no time had passed. What's the point of building a network if they all just become awkward acquaintances?

I suppose I should really spear head this movement by acting on this impulse instead of cowardly posting about it after the fact. I guess I could say that this blog is the first attempt at leading this movement because it has become its own sort of awkward acquaintance over the past year. Let the truth stand in this blog, a symbol for what is and what should never be. (Yes, that was a reference to the Zeppelin song recently covered by Haley Reinhart on American Idol. Yes, you are correct in thinking that she is amazing and you should set up a Google Alert for her.... now).

In the spirit of saying exactly what's on my mind, here's a countdown of things I'm looking forward to. You're welcome to join me in anticipation.

20 days until the season 4 premiere of Breaking Bad on AMC
25 days until we visit the Coffindaffers in St. Louis
33 days until we leave for the cabin
68 days until kick-off
4 months and 7 days until the wedding
4 months and 9 days until the honeymoon

Oh, and I'm not sure if you caught on to this yet, but I did in fact finish grad school. I'm all done. Forever and ever and ever amen. Bring on watermelon for dinner and TV on DVD marathons. It's summer and I've earned it.

Home

Last year Steven and I spent Memorial Day weekend painting our house. Remember that? We spent all weekend cleaning walls, tarping furniture, listening to Harry Potter on CD and stressing ourselves out over purple and orange walls and buying the right paintbrushes. And now, a year later, we spent our Memorial Day packing up that enormous house to move back into the apartment I lived in when we first met.

It's a good thing. A very good thing.

The Hillcrest house was my first house. I learned a lot about my preferences from that house. For one, I think I prefer pastel paint colors. And Steven DEFINITELY prefers pastels. Second, I hate wood floors. This is odd, because I love the details of old houses, and pretty nearly every house that I've liked on the outside has wood floors on the inside. I hate wood floors so much that I completely understand people who put carpet down over wood floors. They just get so dirty. All the time. You have to dust every day. And your feet are cold. And you spend all this time looking for giant rugs to put over your beautiful dirty wood floor. And you have to have more than a stick vacuum that has no attachments to clean anything other than wood floors.

Like I said, it's a good thing.

Moving back to the Pierre house appeals to me on a lot of different levels. First, the nostalgia and sentimentality of the situation is just perfect. I wrote a journal entry my first (first) night in the Pierre house and it was all about hope and wonder about what that apartment and year would bring me. And I was right to feel a sense of "big" coming. That was the year I graduated from college (early) and met Steven. I only got to live in the Pierre house for 6 months because of the early graduation decision and I hated leaving. The first place I moved after the Pierre house turned out to be full of mold. Remember that one? We walked by it on our way to Orange Leaf last night and saw this happy sign:



To live here this year, the year I get to marry Steven and finish my Masters degree and watch K-State go to a BCS bowl again (Brown brothers!) is the best possible scenario that I could have imagined.

It's good to be home.