Kids know what's up. String cheese and pretzels are so good.
I talked to my mom today. That's always a good thing. We talked about my social life -- OK, OK, my lack of a social life. I believe the term she used to describe me was, "social recluse." In my defense, after I got off the phone with her two boys came over and I had a nice conversation with them. Yes, they were my home teachers, but it still counts. It does.
We also talked about maybe me going back to school. I'm up for that. I was thinking of what I could go back in -- photojournalism, mass communications (meh.), English teaching. I went online and started looking at what U of U, BYU, UVU and some other schools offer in terms of masters degrees. I contemplated English, just plain English, for about 2 minutes before wanting to barf at the thought of spending all that time with wanna-be intellectuals and people who are so proud of their mediocre writing and opinion of Hemingway and ... another early 20th century writer, that they don't realize they have no true friends and they smell of stale bread and cat urine.
I don't know why they smell like stale bread, it just came to me.
I could go back in creative writing. Though, that would probably be just as bad as English people. English masters students, not, like, people from England.
What I need to find is a masters program for English/creative writing where the people are down-to-earth, the requirements to get in don't require a 10-page research paper and a bachelors in English, and the tuition doesn't cost more than buying a new Toyota every year. Any suggestions would be appreciated. (Let me guess, in my dreams?)
Good thing I like my job and am in no hurry to leave just yet. Maybe by the time I need a change in scenery I will have found a masters program I love enough to ignore the "quirks" of the people studying with me.
The night of my birthday I realized I hadn't blown out any candles. That's kinda messed up. So the next day, I bought myself a cupcake, stuck a candle in it, found my lighter, lit the yellow stick of wax, and blew it out. Yes, I did make a wish, but as I know the rule of not telling others what I wished for, it doesn't matter to you if I wished or not, except that that's the point of blowing out candles on your birthday, right? I didn't want to get gypped of any wishes I'm entitled to, so yes, I did make a wish. You can relax now.
It was a grasshopper cupcake. Like, mint and chocolate, not bug-flavored. Why the heck do they call it "grasshopper" by the way? I guess some grasshoppers are green, but so are frogs and alligators and grass and marijuana. Well, I can see why they wouldn't call it a marijuana cupcake (they'd get a whole new set of clientele with that one) but I think an alligator cupcake is a great name.
Hey, there are only 19 days left in 2010. What are you gonna do with them? I think I'll eat some more cupcakes.