(This first one was written Monday, but it turned out I didn't have much else to say other than this, so I just left it in today's entry.)
Okay, I had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad dream last night.
I dreamt that I was at Rob Lowe's house(no, that wasn't the nogoodverybad part), and he was helping me with a paper I was writing. (Okay, shut up, it was just because I was thinking about Rob Lowe before I went to sleep, and I'll tell you why in a second.) We worked on it until 2:00 in the morning, when I suddenly remembered I had an exam at 8:30 that I hadn't studied for.
And I woke up in a panic, until I remembered that my exam is tomorrow at 8:30, and I actually did have a whole day to study for it, which is good, because I didn't get very far yesterday.
Okay, I basically didn't do anything except make the very beginnings of an outline, going through the book and my syllabus and breaking down the different sections.
I think my apathy has two causes: one, senioritis, and two, the exam is open book. I just don't get so nervous about open-book exams, Which is crazy, because the professor knows it's open book and therefore makes it that much harder.
This is not to say that I did not have an extremely productive weekend, however. I finished cleaning the place and actually started putting some stuff in boxes. I don't know what it is about packing that makes me feel very adult, but it does. Going to the U-Haul place and buying the boxes and some tape and even one of those handy little tape dispenser deals, I'm just such a grown-up.
Anyway, back to Rob Lowe. Yesterday, while I was watching The West Wing (okay, it wasn't all about packing), I noticed that Rob Lowe tends to speak out of one side of his mouth. I didn't think anything of it, it was just something I noticed, a thought that passed in and out of my mind in a second.
Then last night, before I went to bed, I was reading through my rule of thumb book, and there was one in there that said that people who are deaf in one ear tend to talk out of the opposite side of their mouths, and I remembered reading somewhere that Rob Lowe is, in fact, deaf in one ear.
So that's why I was dreaming about him, okay? Please, he wore a suit the whole time.
Okay, now it's Tuesday, see?
I don't know what it is about exams that makes me hungry, but they do. And not just normal everyday hungry, but carnivoristic pack-hunting instinctual kind of hungry. I just want to dig in with my hands and to sink my teeth into a big slab of ribs or something.
So, of course, I go to Arby's.
(Look, this place ain't the town for barbecue. I'm moving there in about three weeks, though.)
Anyway, the Arby's is a ways outside town, out by the turnpike exchange. So I drive out there the normal way, but I decide to come home via a scenic route I discovered the last time I was out that way and didn't want to come home right away.
It got me thinking about the kind of life I want to lead. I have such mixed feelings about it. There is something very appealing about a small-town way of life, and I don't mean small suburb, I mean small town. I was driving through this little town on my way home, and it was just darling, quaint houses with sunporches and gravel driveways and cute mailboxes, situated ten or twelve acres away from each other. The occasional pasture popping up with horses or cows or something. The houses get a little bit closer together towards the "center of town," two or three blocks of mom-and-pop stores, and VFW hall on the corner. No McDonald's, no Blockbuster, no Jiffy Lube or Border's. No strip mall in sight.
And then I wonder if I wouldn't go stir crazy in about three days.
I went from a huge metropolitan city to a smallish town of about 18,000 people. I didn't mind the former, it was exciting and different, but the latter definitely suits me better. I'm leaving it, though, to go back to suburbia, where if you can't be comfortable, there's something wrong with you.
But thinking long term, I think I need more space than even sprawling suburban life gives you. I certainly want more character.
I guess I ought to worry about getting a job before I start kvetching about where I want to spend my life.
Wasn't my little David oh-so-adorable on Celebrity Millionaire last night?
Kidding. I actually thought he was kind of snooty, which I suppose is typical for him. I just read an interview where he says he hates being called "Mulder" in real life, so Reege was probably pissing him off.
But I also read that, because he blew it after he won $250,000 and got knocked down to $32,000, he's going to make up the difference himself to the charity he was playing for, so that kind of redeems him.
I did have an exam this morning, and I was at a study group last night until about 11:30, so I watched just David before I went to bed.
I don't know why, but I really wasn't nervous about this exam. I think it's because I know I'm going to pass, and that's really all I care about at this point.
It was hard, though. Not particularly complicated, but it was a three hour exam and I probably wrote for a solid two and a half. It was one looong hypothetical that had just about every issue we covered this semester (White Collar Crime class -- racketeering, money laundering, mail fraud, conspiracy, that kind of stuff) and a choice of three out of five short answers. Blech.
And to top it all off, I got $10 back for the book I paid $67 for.
Double blech.
My mother said Rosie was really funny today (she can see it on her cable system at 10:00 a.m., and it comes on mine at 3:00), complaining about the ABC blackout and chatting about the Millionaire show, and it's 2:57, so I'm leaving you for the day. Go outside and enjoy the weather, why don't you?
If you need to locate a stud in a stick-framed wall, remember that most people, including electricians, are right-handed. Find an outlet and tap the wall directly to its left. The odds are in your favor that a stud will be there, and you can measure away from it in 16-inch increments to find others.
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