Dear Sleep, Why do we have such a complicated relationship?

This was written at 1:54 a.m. on July 23rd.  Naturally, I should've been either finishing my homework or sleeping.

Lately I have gotten into this really, really weird trend of waking up early.  And I mean, I’m talking early.  The past 5 days I have woken up at 6 at the latest (4:05 at the earliest).  And if anyone who knows me is reading this (probably no one is reading this), then they know that I am not an “early bird gets the worm” kinda girl.  I enjoy my sleep. Very, very much so.  So anyway, there of course is reason to this madness (and madness to the reason).  My summer school class has me reading these articles that are fairly interesting, but they are SO DARN LONG.  Like 30 pages in tiny, tiny print and it’s the sort of article that has like 3 columns per page making it extra dense. (Hey Charles-Dickens-wannabe, you aren’t getting paid by the word. FYI). And I have to read 4 articles each night. And then write a paper on one of them for the next day.  And I have a quiz on them every morning so I can’t really slack on the reading or skim it.  Ok, ok so you’re reading this (again, I understand the “you” is an abyss and that actually no one is reading this. That’s cool; I’m still going to rant) and are thinking stop complaining and just do it.  And that’s why I really need to get someone to sit next to me and like every 10 minutes make sure I am not daydreaming, because that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.  I’ll “read” a paragraph and then take a subconscious 20 minute break where I contemplate what people in Switzerland think of Swiss Miss hot chocolate; Or I imagine which flowers would be in my hypothetical wedding bouquet; Or I take a trip down memory lane to 2^nd grade and reflect on how sweaty and red Timmy D. would look after playing some intense crab-soccer in gym class; that boy sure did share a striking resemblance to a tomato (a sweaty tomato. Yes, I know those don’t exist…but for the sake of the story, go wit it).   

And so, the moral of the story is don’t daydream.  Because it causes you to lengthen (by hours) the time it takes to do your work, and then you feel guilty about not finishing your work so you stay up to obscene hours and try to finish it.  But then you realize that you aren’t actually reading because it’s 3 in the morning and your eyes have this feeling that they have a film covering them, making it nearly impossible to keep them open.  And then you pray for a snow day.  And then you remember it’s summer and the chances of snow are pretty slim.  And so then you also realize that you haven’t even started your paper that’s due the next morning and kinda freak out. So you set your alarm for 5:30ish.  You go to sleep. You wake up at 5:30 and the first thing that crosses your mind is “OH HELL NO!” and you hit the snooze button and sleep for another 15 minutes.  You wake up, rub your eyes, splash cold water on your face, make a lil Dunkin Donuts Coffee, and get down to business.

You arrive to class feeling/looking like a zombie.  You are pretty pissed off at your current state.  You look at the clock and see it’s 10:15 and get nostalgic about the days when you were a kid and summer at this hour meant watching Scooby Doo with your brother and hearing the voice of your mom call you down for breakfast.  And then you remember that you don’t have any milk and need to pick that up after class (you of course forget).  You then quickly read over your notes because you are about to take a quiz.  You have bittersweets thoughts in your head regarding your teacher: damn you for assigning all that reading…but I guess I can forgive you because you are like the nicest guy ever and have this geeky, black framed glasses look going on.  And then you think “oh dear I have a haphazard crush on my 28 year old married professor”. And then you take the quiz. And then you sit in lecture for 2.5 hours.  And then you repeat all the above for 4 more days until the weekend.   

This was taken at 4:15 in the morning last week.  An hour I really do not like to see. But it did kinda look pretty outside.  The sun was just starting to peek through.    

Allan's Centennial Garden and Farmer's Market

Today Andrew and I had a beautiful, lazy day.

Went to the farmer's market which is held every Saturday at the capitol.

So many baked good.

Little kids running around.

Pretty flowers.

Homemade jewelry.

And the list goes on and on.

And then we made lunch and rode our bikes to Allan's Centennial Garden to eat.

Mucho weddings pictures were being taken there.

It's such a wonderful place.

A large Victorian house surrounded by different types of gardens:

A French garden, An English garden, An Italian garden, A Japanese garden, etc. etc.

It reminds me of the book "Secret Garden". 

Or maybe "The Velveteen Rabbit".

Both good.

Andrew eating a Fuji apple. But convinced that he got ripped off because it didn't taste like Fuji.

A cute archway.

 

Really pretty flowers. But I don't know the name. Anyone?

And me looking out into the garden. 

Allan's Centennial Garden  :)

  

The French Garden - Fleur de lis.

Wisconsin Wild Flowers.

And zi farmer's market...

Blast from the past: Mi roommate Mallory looking like a chicken at the Farmer's Market back in Sept. Cluck Cluck.

NORM!!!

In another life, Norm MacDonald is my godfather and mentor and best friend.  

I love his facial expression at 3:05.

"Yeah I know what a boot is.  I made avocado."

I can only hope to someday meet Old Harold Delany.

Getting Jiggy

This video sends my desire to travel the world to soaring heights. The clips from Lancelin, Australia and Antseranana, Madagascar are my favorites.

3 Beautiful Visitors

Last week my lovely friends visited me in Madison! Katie, Jackie, and Sam. We had so much fun: Going out for dinner at Dotty Dumpling's Dowry,State Street shopping/roaming, Eating Babcock's ice cream, Playing cards at the terrace, Getting our costumes ready for the Periodic Table themed party, etc. etc.....

Katie, Jackie, & Sam on State St. in front of the Capitol building (they filmed parts of Public Enemy there)

Sammy Rae at the Terrace. The four of us played Presidents (Sam and Katie = the LOSERS)

Mallory = gold, Katie = calcium, Sam = aluminum

Katie, Jackie, and Sam:  I miss you girls. Come back to meeeee!

Cute Dresses and Cute Boys

I am putting off doing homework.

I am looking at pretty dresses instead.

I want them.

No money to buy them.

:(

The above are all from Forever21

This one is from Free People.

I am still putting off doing homework.

I am looking at handsome boys (my celebrity crushes) instead.

A girl can dream.

:)

Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Michael Cera, Michael Angarano

Sean Biggerstaff, George Harrison

WOWZA!

Highlights from Home

- Matt (my brother) surprised me with  a red velvet cupcake from his downtown meat market as a welcome home present. YUMMY! 

- PORTILLO's with my dad!!!

- Cereal at midnight with Anne and Sam at mi casa (I swear they were laughing just a second earlier)

- Going downtown with my mom to see 500 Days of Summer.

- Visits with Q (grandma. goin strong at 94). I jokingly asked her to buy a keg for me and she said yes. She sure is the prettiest little thing I have ever seen.

- Long Beach for the 4th of July

- Walks in my mother's beautiful garden. And of course I made Lenny model.

- BBQ Chicken pizza night at my house.

- Baking!

- Coffee with Claire.

- Taking the train downtown with Sam and going to the Planetarium (COSMIC COLLISIONS!) and eating Gyros for dinner from Artist's Cafe.

- A much needed haircut. 8 inches go bye bye.

- Watching fireworks on the 3rd from my cousin's apartment across from Soldier Field.  

-Lots of laughs, food, and relaxation.

Dear Eyebrows, I'm sorry.

I decided to get nostalgic while I was home, so I looked through my yearbooks from my k-8 Catholic grade school. It's funny how there are 365 days in a year, and yet when digging through the past, most of the days just blur into generalities, leaving only a few distinct memories.  I was thumbing through my 6th grade yearbook (2000-2001) and immediately I was hit with one of those ole distinct memories I haven't thought about for ages. However, this happening has affected me, I'd say, for a good chunk of my life. And what, you may ask, was this happening about? Well, my eyebrows.  Those little buggers have caused me so much trouble through the years. I guess my bangs cover them now, so that's good, but back in the day I'd toil over them and end up making them too thin or too far apart. But I think my stupid preoccupation with eyebrows stemmed from this memory...

Mrs. Doyle's* classroom was arranged with desks aligned in neat rows. About 6 desks back and 5 across. I sat in the corner - the desk closest to the door. Billy* sat next to me and Michael* (my crush and "boyfriend" at the time. though you can't really have a boyfriend in 6th grade) sat behind me.  It was the end of November and, being typical Chicago weather, it was pretty dreary outside.  Once a month my friend's mom would come in as the Art Volunteer and teach the students about an artist.  This week she was talking about Frida Kahlo.  After the presentation, Billy turned to me and said, "You have a unibrow just like her. Ewwww!"  I of course turned bright red and was really embarrassed and upset by what he said.  It's one thing to say that all, but he had to say it in front of my semi boyfriend.  I remember I wanted to cry or bolt for the door. Or do both. But then a voice from behind me said, "Leave her alone. Billy, you're just being mean. I think you have nice eyebrows."  Michael - my knight in shining armor! Needless to say, I am excitedly awaiting Michael's proposal because clearly he's husband material.  Just kidding. But actually I'm dead serious.  

...So that day after school I went straight to my mom's makeup bag. And I got out those shiny tweezers. And I sat in front of my mirror in my bedroom and went to town on those suckers. BIG MISTAKE! An eleven year old should not be trusted with tweezers. I ended up taking a huge chunk out of my eyebrow. YIKES.  My mom had to take me to a place to get them fixed (as much as they could be).    

...Two weeks later my mom and I went downtown Chicago with my aunts and all my girl cousins to see "A Christmas Carol".  Afterward we went to Water Tower Place to do some Christmas shopping.  My Aunt Barb asked me what had happened to my eyebrow.  I remember being really ashamed and embarrassed and I didn't want to tell her that I did it to myself. So I made up a stupid, non-believable story about how I'd been running outside and slipped on the ice and landed in some gravel and how the rocks cut my eyebrow and the hair came off. I think she could tell I was both lying and uncomfortable so she just said "Oh" and dropped the subject.  

Anyway, I'd like to apologize to my eyebrows.  Though I am not very fond of you, you didn't deserve the massacre you experienced that one gloomy, unforgettable, November afternoon.  If anything, I should have taken my anger out on Billy and punched him in the stomach. Just kidding. 

And mothers (or future mothers) be sure to tell your boys to never make fun of girls. Or anyone for that matter.  It's amazing how one comment can set forth a chain of events.  And mothers, be sure to tell your daughters to NEVER tweeze their eyebrows at a young age.  If they are really unhappy with them, just take them to a professional.  

Here's a picture of me (bottom center) with my friends at a tap recital a few months before the incident.  Oh come on Billy - Frida Kahlo, really??? You JERK!  Hahaha I actually think Billy is a nice kid.  I was friends with him in school and I guess at the time he was just immature and trying to be funny.  Oh well.  Life goes on.  

*Names have been changed.  Which is kinda silly on my part since there is no way any of them read this.  But whatever.