Friday, July 17, 2009

God's Country

I'm sitting now in a dorm room at the University of Notre Dame for the last night this week. What can I do? Well, I can blog. What can't I do? Sleep. Ugh. I have a work certification test in the morning, being the reason for the week long stay in Indiana (what other reason is there to spend a week in South Bend?), and dontcha know... I just can't 'lax. So, using this time, I will reflect on good old Notre Dame.

This is a huge campus, a beautiful expansive and endless campus. I have gotten lost twice, and both times cost me at least 30 minutes. In Notre Dame, for some reason, three rights do not a left make. I have visited the Basilica of the Sacred Heart for an exuberant mass, walked through the serenity that is the Grotto of Our Lady of Lourdes and gazed upon the reflecting pool below the famous "touchdown Jesus" mural (twice, the first on purpose, the second because I was lost and ended up there). And I have mixed emotions about this place.

First, a bit too religious for my liking. I am the daughter of the "church lady" and somehow was never taught what to do in a Grotto. Or, how to relax in church even when I know the words. Or, what to reflect upon at a reflecting pool. So, I just try not to linger too long, trying to look really reflective with all of my strength (without striking the "thinker" pose), its exhausting, and then go on my way. Okay, I realize these are my issues and not the University's, but it does effect my comfort level here.

Second, but they get it. The mural is nicknamed "touchdown Jesus" for Christ's sake (I can use it in that context, right?), they aren't taking themselves that seriously if God and football go hand in hand.

But third, no one, no matter what they pay, can get a glimpse of the inside of the darn stadium. Just a little peek that's all I want. Just to see the lush green grass that once held Jeff Samadrzija (yes, that spelling did require some googling) in its lucky little blades. To see the house that holds the most sacred sports sign:
But no. I can't get near it. Sigh. Welcome all to the church; get back you sinner from the field!
Complaining about the ridiculous aside, the campus is beautiful and am glad to have had the week here.
But now on to my test, and hoping I won't need to channel my inner Rudy. I will calculate Generation Skipping Transfer Taxes like a champion tomorrow. (Somehow it just does not have the same ring to it.)
Wish me luck!

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

And how many bathrooms are there in Pemberly?

The clock is ticking down, rapidly! There are only ten days until I lose my single occupancy status forever and will have to share a bathroom for the rest of my life. Well, the rest of the house too, I'm not locking him in the bathroom. But having your own bathroom is a luxury that I have enjoyed for the last 3 years and...I'm gonna miss it.

The wedding is still 451 days away (counter thanks to the Knot, no I'm not crazy enough to figure that out on my own) but ten days until the U-Haul truck comes along and joins our collective property (enough to fill 10 rooms) into the 3 bedroom house that I have. Of these ten days, I will be away for four, leaving me with less than a week to check all of the necessary boxes. What are those boxes? Well...
  • Sit around in my old frumpy pajamas, yes, the ones with the holes in the knees and the leaping sheep. I don't care - they are comfortable and I love them.

  • Eat chocolate all night, it doesn't matter what kind really. I started with a Caramello and ended up with a Snickers bar. It is okay to also branch out into ice creams, but do it right by having the necessary condiments and sauces. No skimping!

  • Watch girly chick flicks, any Colin Firth movie will do. I'll start with P&P and from there move to Love Actually and end with Mamma Mia. And then repeat from the top.

  • Sit in total silence. Sounds stupid, but I doubt it will happen again. Chances are the TV will be on as soon as the cable is installed.

  • Maybe have a nap. Whenever and wherever I feel like it. Might try it at the dinner table. Hmm.. Might make more sense to give a go at the couch first. On the spot napping, that's the goal.
Don't take this list lightly, remember: this is the LAST chance.

Not that I'm entering a jail term, certainly not. I'm ecstatic for him to move in, really, I'm not being sarcastic, really. Really! We have a wonderful time together and I love having him in the house (he complains and complains when I lock him out). I just realize that there will be a time when I will say "wow, I can't remember the last time I...(whatever it may be)", so I'm trying to squeeeeeze in all of the "whatever it may be's" quick.

Perhaps this should be when the 21st century bachelorette party is celebrated? Every couple lives together now before they get married, just try to name someone who hasn't. I can't think of one celebrity. Oh sure, the literary couples of course, but Lizzie could never sneak out the house without Mary tattling. But then again, there is the scandelous situation between Lydia and Wickham, even they moved in together. Oh I Lydia!?!

Some couples even have baby showers before they get married (again, I'm finding it hard to think of a celebrity example who has not), otherwise the term baby-daddy (also, one that I detest) wouldn't exist, see what I'm talking about here?

So this is my unofficial bachelorette-raid the cookie jar-wear comfy clothes-watch cheesy movies-read trashy magazines-and gab on the phone all week-week. :) WOO HOO!!!! Caution: its not going to be pretty.

Of course, next week, there will be different plans.
  • I will start actually going to the gym I pay for - I am a bride-in-training, of course. Must look uber-hot on the big day. If this doesn't happen of course I will need to ask all of you to put on five pounds (ten might be safe), thank you in advance.

  • I will start eating like a normal person, and buy something green that isn't just for the rabbits. I can always cough it down with some blue cheese. I'll probably have a go at cooking and will pretend that my Italian mother taught me everything she knew, too bad my mother is Irish.

  • I'll have to start doing the lawn and watering the flowers, as we're now 1/2 English. Plus, we can be considered a new household in the neighborhood - under a new management team. I'll even give a nice shine to the garden gnomes (also, not just for the rabbits), they certainly will please the neighbors. If only I could find one of those plastic flamingos, that would add perfectly, unfortunately they are not made anymore, I can't imagine why.

Now, for the gentleman, I am sure he is also going through his own mourning period of losing his privacy as well. Not to forget that he'll need this week to improve his immune system to cope with some of the food I will be cooking up, either that or completely burn out his taste buds. Along with countless other adjustments.

I will be scurrying around hiding anything embarassing from my childhood, and making my house open to welcome him in. I hope its an easy process on both of us. Hopefully I'm not that hard to live with. haha. We all know I will be. Oh, the poor guy. Well, I guess this post is a request for you to be easy on him and treat him to a drink every now and again, we all know he'll need it!!