Lately

What am I only posting once a week now? Sorry for the lag in consistent posts, but the dissertation is getting written people! For REALS. I'm like a machine, getting stuff done on full blast. I have submitted two more chapters, filled out paperwork for graduation in summer, and talked with my committee chair about the defense. I'm hoping it happens in June, when jerkoffs are not around to be ornery at my defense, which will be the scariest day of my life. Even scarier than the night I came home from Paranormal Activity. Or the time someone called my name in my empty house when I was 12. Or the time I was dragged to a Christian youth music festival. Well, let's be realistic, it probably won't top the music festival.

I am doing great with the "get healthy" plan. Going to the gym every other da, eating sensibly, no Coke. I think this is the longest I've ever gone without a Coke. When I did Nutrisystem I made a big stink about having to drink Diet Cokes. It was like I had to go from Marlboro reds to light menthols or something. And here I am, gone cold turkey without a problem. The doctor thing threw me for a loop, and I'm still on the fence about her, but I do have an appointment in 3 weeks, and if she still makes me feel uncomfortable, I'll switch. If she was just trying to impress upon me the consequences of my actions, I'll stay.

Funny thing about exercising, you feel more energized in general. I have been in a better mood the past two weeks, I've gotten better writing done, I've boxed up all my books and (with the help of M. of course) moved those heavy boxes down to the garage. I spent today cleaning out my office at home and getting things ready for our eventual garage sale.

It's sad to see my empty bookshelves, and even sadder to know all my books are downstairs in boxes. I feel comforted when I'm surrounded by my books. I don't think I'd enjoy an all-digital world. I like books. I like to see the covers, to feel the binding, to hold it in my hand and write all over it if I want to. I like seeing all my different weird interests on the shelf, hanging out together. I have a copy of A People's History of the United States that was purchased for an AP History class in high school. It has all of my highlighter marks, notes, and dog eared pages. Even though I bought the updates to it, and even a special hardcover edition, when I went to see Howard Zinn speak in the late 90s, I brought my battered copy for him to sign. I have a fantasy of one day having a library in my house. A room or part of my office that has floor to ceiling shelves and a rolling ladder. I really want the rolling ladder. If we have kids, I think it would be neat for them to grow up with a bunch of interesting books around. I mean, they're going to be little weirdos anyway, they might as well be well informed.

As more of our stuff gets put into boxes and moved downstairs, we seem to be having a variety of reactions about it. I like being surrounded by the little ephemera from throughout my life. M. is more into the streamlined, clutterlessness of our temporary arrangement. Once we saw an episode of MTV Cribs, the one with Moby and his minimalist loft. He also had some kind of house in the woods that was all wood and no furniture. I found it desolate and unlivable, and M. was like, in awe. So he's feeling like there's a lot more room in the house, and I'm feeling like the house is getting emptier. But soon, I'll have my stuff back, and I've got no time to mope.