It’s the day of the test, ya’ll.

As I went to sleep, I repeated the mantra, “It will be fine. You can take it again. Go do what you can do.”

Here’s what I know.

With some reasonable, meditative kind of mindset my chances of doing well on the Reasoning and the Verbal are beyond good. My chances of doing well on the Quantative are dependent on how calm I can remain and not block myself because I have the fear of the math, and the lack of any recall on doing anything aside from counting and basic functions.

It was years ago, grade school years, when I was diagnosed with dyscalculia. I remember having to do “therapy” but that wasn’t ever really enforced at home, so it just kind of went away. I flip numbers. I skip, skim, delete numbers altogether. At that point, comprehension becomes a mute point.

But I have people in my life who can and will help me, should I decide do to this a second time and raise that score.

I know that the admittance is not based solely on this test score.

I also know that everyone applying to these programs will be the best of the best.

I want to be part of that group.

No matter what happens, this will be done by 1:00 pm today. During these morning hours, in that moment between thoughts, as you’re applying on some chapstick, or refilling your cup of tea, as you’re walking from your car into work, or trying not to get frustrated on your commute because there’s some jackhole on your train that smells like patchouli, in that space between the space in your brain…

send a little focus my way, would you?

Buster sent me a GRRR GRRRRRRRRR which translates into KICK THIS TEST’S BUTT! (I’m sure)

For you, Buster, I will give it my all.

 

The wedding was wonderful. The day of getting ready was fun, and full of music and laughter and hairspray. The venue was gorgeous and candle lit. The room was full of friends, smiling with support. As the bride walked down the aisle to her groom, I was immediately back in high school, and we were children, giggling and getting ready to “go out” and talking about who we liked, who we wanted to see. Double dates and late night girl talks that ended with

“I love Vernon.”

And Saturday night, they stood before all of us and told each other that they still loved each other, and that they always would, and they kissed and we clapped and the party began!

Save one tiny blurp with the photobooth malfunctioning and the kid working the even being a total assbag, it was a night of perfection.

The new Mr. and Mrs. dropped by last night, retrieving the bits and pieces of theirs that I got home with, taking home a container of homemade soup that I made yesterday, leaving me some wedding cupcakes…and we were just worn out. Exhausted.

It was a love hangover, to be sure.

Reality sets in with today, school, classes, research and studying for me. I take the GRE tomorrow. I have to be at the test site at 7:30 a.m.

I know I’m going to take this again. I’ve planned it that way. But it would be amazing if I could blow it out of the water and not really have to, wouldn’t it? I got my subject test scheduled officially. I had to switch locations from Stillwater to Weatherford, which sucks for my birthday celebrations that were going to happen afterwards, but whatever. I would just make poor choices for my life if I were in Stilly. At least it’s scheduled.

After the test tomorrow, I do my provision shopping for Harvest Fest, and home to ready the house and working on getting homework and projects posted for my online class.

Thursday we leave, bright and early and head for the mountain, where friends will meet up, set up our commune, and listen to some music for three days.

That kind of reality, does not bite. Not at all.

 

There are moments in life, that just add up to magic.

That is the only explanation.

Magic.

And if we’re lucky, if we are really good and we brush our teeth and floss and wash our make up off and do the dishes and take out the trash on time and make sure that the vegetables in the crisper don’t rot before we eat them, and then actually eat them, if we are really really good…perhaps…

We get just such a moment.

It’s such a crapshoot, really, because who, if they are brushing their teeth and flossing even and washing with the expensive face wash, and remembering to do the dishes and get the crusty bits off BEFORE loading the dishwasher, and taking out the trash, and passing up that mac & cheese for an extra helping of turnip…WHO has TIME to be aware that they are in the middle of a magical moment?

Some days it’s just a win if I have a pillowcase.

However, on the off chance that one of the voices in my brain has done their yoga, and is all zen’d out, and happens to be driving the bus that day, moments of magic seem to be all around.

This is a weekend of magic. Lucky for me, I’ve won the game of craps, and am aware.

Oh am I aware.

Tomorrow night, two people, that I have known for the majority of my life, are pledging to love each other and be best friends forever.

I will go to my hometown tomorrow and hang dresses of silk and taffeta and sparkle, I will do the hair of women and children that are my heart, I will slip into shoes that may or may not kill me and whoever I take down in the process…

but I will be there.
in the thick of it.

relishing in the love, knee deep in a bliss that began over twenty years ago.

It gives me hope.

Just that…

It still happens.

I am in the midst of miracle.

and wonder.

and magic.

 

I snoozed on my alarm for over an hour this morning.

Last night was a no sleep night.

Too much going on in my brain. Too much caffeine. Wednesday night is TV night with Michael, and we begin after I get home from class, so we eat late. . . and they’re always bizzert.

I lay awake in my bed last night, trying to de-stress my body. I could feel the tension in my feet, my legs, my back, my wrists. I did some breathing, some stretching, I tossed and I turned. I smooth out kicked Sammy in the whiskers. I got up and had some grapefruit juice. I contemplated just getting up because as apparent on the list in my head, I had reading and things to do.

Sometime in that delirium I fell asleep. And five minutes later the alarm went off, and I didn’t know where I was, what day it was, what I had to do today, where I had to do it.

Tonight begins the wedding events. Rehearsal for Missy and Vernon’s wedding followed by a truly hometown meal of onion burgers! I picked up my dress last night. It’s just a titch too short in my opinion. But I need a spray tan, so maybe that will help. Tomorrow. Hopefully I can schedule that tomorrow. Tomorrow night, just a quiet little girls night dinner with the bride, then Saturday two things happen.

It’s the Wedding Day! Lot’s of hair to do, fun to have and memories to make!

Hell, in fact, appears to start freezing over.

It’s a crazy cold front. Record Breaking Wedding Weather! (what is it this year with the wedding weather?) The high is 49.

The Universe may be giving credence because it took this couple 25 years to get it together. I wouldn’t be surprised if at one time in their post-high school glory, one or both uttered the phrase, ‘when hell freezes over’, in regards to their relationship’s longevity.

Heh.

I’m excited to be a part of this amazing thing. I’ve got more to write about them, but right now I’ve got to clean my self and get to the salon and do a way with the bride’s roots.

 

I am acutely aware of how fast time is passing me by.

I don’t know when I became aware. I know that when I was young and would make a comment on how fast the summer went by all of the grownup’s would just cluck cluck cluck, tsk tsk tsk and say, “The older you get, the faster time moves.”

Maybe they engrained a fear in me. Deep seeded, rooted in the idea that my whole like could pass and I wouldn’t have paid a bit of attention to it.

I am acutely aware.

Every month when I send the bank my mortgage payment I think two things:

a) we get to stay here another month.

b) didn’t I JUST do this?

From the beginning of this semester, I knew that life would be nuts. So many things to accomplish, deadlines to meet, pieces of business to work out. Knowing is one thing, living it is a horse of a nuther feather. I’ve whined and complained and taken myself completely out of my social circle.

Don’t ask me. Just support me. Like that cheating-ass robot from the future, “I’ll Be Back.” Understand that this is what I have to do. I have to close myself up in my house, or at the library and get this work finished. It is important to me, and imperative to my cause. Believe me, no one is looking more forward to Christmas break than this girl. I promise you that.

And it will be here in a blink.

This month is mid-terms, papers due, exams taken. It’s Fall Break and HarvestFest. It’s Fall Fest and family. It’s the GRE/round one. It’s birthdays of two women who hold pieces of my heart wherever they go. It’s a chill in the air, it’s sweatshirts and long pants and snuggly kitties and the beginning of my favorite time. My power time.

My calendar for Saturday’s in November are already booked, save one, with tests for college, literary conferences**, and holidays. Boom. Done.

I am determined, however, to not let it pass me by without recognition. It’s too beautiful to let go without experiencing it. So, this morning as I’ve got on my sweatshirt and sip my coffee, as I ruminate on the week ahead that will bring about glorious celebrations, and fierce deadlines, I take a moment and feel gratitude.

Because I am acutely aware of how fast it is all going. . .

and because we get to stay here another month.

Cheers, ya’ll.

 

**I was notified yesterday that my paper submission was accepted for presentation at the literary conference held yearly at my university. It’s a pretty big deal, with international participation as well as possible publication. I like the topic of my paper, so it won’t be awful. Though now…I guess I’d better write the damned thing.

 

I finished the novel A Handful of Dust, last night and completed my homework postings. I went into the reading with a hearty approval for it by Trish, who said it was one of her faves. I was excited to be excited about this one.

Satire is some of my favorite stuff. It really is. Waugh is pretty genius at conveying his disdain for the triviality with which his characters live their lives. Aristocracy and the working man, life and death, relationships that are just as much a facade as anything else, he covers it in this one.

In researching him, it was pointed out repeatedly his disdain for the modernization of society, the commerce, the ‘advances’ made in the name of progress. His true love was the England of old. Written in the 1930’s, Britain was really struggling with the repercussions of the Stock Market Crash of ’29, the politics were unsteady with great upheaval with the Labour Party. All of this is at the base, in the pulse, of this book. The humor, the brilliant dry crispy tickity tackity clip of the conversations, moves the pace and the story along without the reader even knowing it.

There’s a scene that shows Tony and his friend Jock getting snotfaced drunk, or ‘tight’ as it were. It’s one of the most brilliant drunk scenes I’ve ever read. I could see the farcical circles within the conversations, stumbling over feet, words, thoughts, curbs. Love love love it.

I’ve never read or seen Brideshead Revisited. He’s famous for that one, too. There is a movie version of this one, starring Kristen Scott Thomas in one of her first roles.

 

We’ve two more novels in this class and then it’s finished. I’m beginning a Graham Green piece this weekend. One more that I’ve never read. As is par for the syllabus, I’ll keep you posted.

 

Tomorrow is Friday.

Where did this week go???

I’ve got tomorrow night, and the weekend to write two papers, finish A Handful of Dust, post homework for that, begin another novel and get ready for the week.

My home is a frathouse. There’s dishes in the sink. Shoes strewn everywhere. The ice trays are in the freezer. . . but they’re empty. I finally took out the recycle yesterday. But the trash is still full. And the load of laundry that I started on Monday is still in the washing machine.

It’s just one of those weeks.

It’s been a really good one, however. Lot’s of fun texting with Audra, making plans for a January George Strait concert and fun times. Work is good. I’ve had rest. I’m feeling better and not quite so stressed.

Next week is the wedding. So beginning Thursday night, I’m booked solid until the end of Saturday night.

Tuesday I take the GRE.

From the research that I’ve been getting from my GirlFriday’s, most applications will accept the scores of the tests into Jan. Which alleviates a lot of the stress. I’m going to just go in and take this one with minimal study time. Because I have yet to crack a book. Minimal is generous. I’ll go ahead and plan to take it again, and I have to take the Subject Test so I’ll get that scheduled too. It’ll be ok.

But damn if the weeks don’t fly by.

 

I need a secretary.

I need someone to go through the websites of universities, peruse their Ph.D programs in English, and print out the necessary information for applying to said programs for me.

I need about 15 of those.

I’ll apply to about 10.

The more I look at this, the more I feel as if it is an impossible task and can feel my faith slipping away.

Deadline is December 15th.

GRE Test scores for general test, which is scheduled for the taking on Oct 9th as well as the English Subject test, which I do not have scheduled, are due. Writing samples and statements of intent are included in that package.

Am I even going to be able to get this all done and submitted in time? To the best of my effort and not half-assed? Because here this past week I feel like my best effort IS half assed.

Competition is strong when it comes to getting into these programs. STRONG. I worry.

I–I just had to stop in the middle of writing this to organize another thing online. Sheesh. But that is finished. Enough. Delegated the rest to the other hostesses and am grateful to them.

What was I saying?

Oh yeah.

I need a secretary.

Come pay my bills. Fax things to insurance. Make some calls for me and arrange the details of alterations, shoe buying, gift buying. Get my car cleaned, and change the sheets on the beds. Keep the deadlines in check so that I don’t miss anything.

All of this or I need to not leave the house or campus until it’s over.

 

Koyaanisqatsi is a Hopi Indian word for unbalanced life.

Koy. Ahn. Us. Caught. See.

Life out of balance.

Today was a perfect example of that and while I was posting homework posts regarding Lady Chatterly’s Lover, that word popped into my head.

At USAO for undergrad, we had a class called Mindwalking. I remember talking it out, brainstorming the class with Ma. Ann. She was the department head as well as my mentor as well as my friend and spirit guide. There’s too much to talk about in regards to that class, but I think we’ll work on that. Maybe I can talk Cindy and Sarah into writing pieces about it too. But anyways, we watched the movie Koyaanisqatsi in that and I’ve never forgotten it. It’s mindbending.

For tonight though, for my class posting, I’ll use it as a connector to the literature. One of the running themes in this novel is intellectuality versus sexuality. For the characters it’s an all or nothing life…until it isn’t, and that opens up an entirely new can of worms for them to deal with.

It’s that way with me, too. With all of us, isn’t it? When we are too heavy on the work and not enough play, when there’s way more carbs than there is protein, when the gin takes more space than the tonic…

Koyaanisqatsi.

The novel is a good one. I’ll revisit it in my lifetime. The words published in that book were scandalous. Thereto-for unpublishable. It’s an interesting look at social class…once again it gives insight to a life with class differences and what happens when they merge…when the gap is closed. I would recommend it to anyone looking for a book to read as well.

 

Today is my one day of weekend. I slept in till about 8:30, had coffee, began putting together the things I needed for the wedding shower later in the afternoon. I Facebooked a bit with my friends, and watched CBS Sunday Morning. I took out the trash and recycle and spoke with the contractor, who is working on the rent house next door, about building a handrail on my porch before the winter season. I picked up a bit around the house, and then got ready. I met Audra to get the delicious cupcakes she made for the shower, paid her then zoomed to Target then to Emily’s where it was time to build the cheese platter and start the shower. I got to see my friends. For two hours I got to see the girls and talk and laugh. It was an event full of strange emotion and awkwardness but that is another post, too. Everyone made plans to go somewhere after, as well as set a date for a girls night next month. The whole time, in the back of my head, was a running list of things I needed to finish tonight. Homework postings. Readings. Studying for my timed writing that I’m making up from my vacay. Kitchen is a mess. Must get bridesmaid dress fitted tomorrow. Have no set time for that as the lady never called me back. Shoes for that. Invites out for another thing. Start research for paper tomorrow. Read Lit Crit before class.

 

Koyaanisqatsi.

Life Out Of Balance.

Finding a way to balance the gin with the tonic…well that’s just a measurement isn’t it?

Seeing friends more than once every 10 weeks…it’s a matter of time management.

Being wholly present in this life and recognizing when the measurements are off, when the scale is tilting and we need a little more relief to balance it out. We need some balance.

For the characters in the book…well there were lessons to be learned.

For me as well.

I don’t see a way out until it’s over.

I think that’s what Lady Chatterly thought as well.

When last we met, I was wailing at the car gods and railing at the homework gods and generally knee deep in a pity party that was attended by several Why Me’s and more than one It’s Not Fair’s.

This morning, after a good night of   after a mostly decent night of sleep, I woke up and had coffee in my gorilla mug and decided to get my car fixed.

I went out and tried to see if it would even start so that I could get to the salon.

It did.

I came in and promptly called the guy that a friend/client recommended last night. I explained it all.

The car wouldn’t start. The battery is new. It’s not holding a charge. All signs point to either a computer glitch or alternator and could I possibly bring the car in for him to check it today.

He totally blew me off and told me to go get a new battery.

Fine. Asshole. I will call someone else.

I called the place that Darci told me about. But they couldn’t look at it until tomorrow.

Pffffft. At least they were nicer.

Audra and I had been texting back and forth like fiends. She’s so good with this stuff. One of her dreams long ago was to own a chain of mechanic/car repair shops for women, run by women. It’s still a dynomite idea. I would go to that business.

On her suggestion, I took the car to O’Reilly’s Autoparts and just had them run some diagnostics on it. This is a free service and there’s a store just up from the salon and my house. I went up there and the nice man with the limp and the cane, Calvin, came from behind the desk* and helped me. The initial diagnostics were fine. No error codes being thrown. I thought that was it, but after more prodding from Audra, I went back in and asked if that checked the battery and alternator too. No, that’s another thing, so let’s go do that.

Bingo.

The battery was charging at way below normal. The alternator threw up some funky number percentages that spelled “GET IT REPLACED”

So. Then my question is: How do I do that?

Well, Calvin said, “Let’s look and see what we have in stock. If we do, I can order you one and you can buy it here and take it to a shop for installation.”

We did. He did. Perfect.

So. Then my question was: Where should I go?

Calvin directed me to a little shop up the street. This is an interesting part of the world. It’s an old neighborhood and this street is lined with business and shops that alternate between being open and being boarded up. Theres just so much old, run down dead stuff that you never notice anything living. But lo and behold, right across from the Family Dollar…there’s the shop.

I pull in and speak to a fellow and explain my plight. We make a date for 1pm when I will return with the refurbished alternator and he will put it into my car. His fee is exactly on the money as to what I’d been told it should be so as not to get ripped off. I asked for his name and number so I could call him and verify after I went and bought the part.

“Bear. Muh names Bear.”

He’s in my phone that way now.

Oh this is just looking better and better! I go home, and begin to get organized to start reading. I have to finish a novel tonight. Have to. I also decided to make a pot of soup. I bought a new cookbook on vacation and have been inspired. I also needed to update my iPhone with the new operating system. These are the things I did instead of cracking open my novel.

It’s time to take my car! I drive up and get the new/refurbished part and pay for that. Cal was just as nice as he could be.

I took it to Bear, and also asked if he would just double and triple check the hoses and belts and connections and would he fill my washer fluid up and this coolant would he put that in there too…I’ll just wait. I’ve got two hours and I can just sit here and read.

It was a dirty ole garage. That’s fine. It was a very pleasant day outside and this was totally doable.

The garage waiting area was not empty, however. A grizzled man wielding a fly swatter sat in the corner as if it were court and he were the king. I sat next to him. We talked about my car and what was going to happen to it while I was there. The talk eventually turned to the rank smell that was happening outside.

“Did you smell that when you came in?” he said.

“I did. I did smell it. That’s some pretty stinky trash.” I said.

“Oh that’s not trash. That’s flesh.”

“Flesh??!!?”

“Flesh.”

“FLESH?”-gag. herk. verp.

“Flesh. But it’s an animal. Probably back over yonder behind that house over there. Something’s rotting. I can tell the difference between human flesh and animal flesh. I used to work for a wrecker service.”

It was at this point that I pulled out my iPhone and began texting Lynn for a ride.

The King of Smells proceeded to tell me several stories of his experience with smelling human flesh. Apparently there’s a sweetness to it that one will never forget. Also, there’s a sweetness to the smell of dope.

You know. When people smoke the dope.

Yes. Yes sir, I have smelled that before.

Yes. It is a clingy smell.

“I live up there on 104th and such and such and you know, the (racial adjective redacted)’s will walk by and I can smell it. Yes. Those (racial adjective redacted)’s will be up at that quick stop and I can tell if they’ve been smoking dope.”

It was at this point that I made the judgement call to NOT read Uncle Tom’s Cabin at the garage. I just slipped it back into my little bag and waited for my ride.

SO.

Here I am.

My car is fixed. In a day. High Fives For Everyone!

Soup is on the stove.

Michael is coming over tonight to eat and watch Sons of Anarchy and scream at the tv with me.

I am going to get through Uncle Tom’s Cabin and tab my section for tomorrow’s class if it kills me.

On the bright side, if that does happen, I’m sure that Bear’s friend will be able to sniff me out before the cats eat my remains.

So. There’s that.

*when I filled out the customer service survey for the auto parts store one of the questions was “did someone come from behind the desk to help you”-I filled it out as well as phoned the manager of the store. Good customer service is a rare commodity and should be rewarded.