Because tomorrow my comprehensive exams start, and I'm freaking.
...and if I don't pass these exams then I don't graduate my masters program.
...and the study guide is 400+ terms, at least 100 of which I've never heard of.

Because yesterday was a fantastic day, and even if nothing comes of this new thing I've got going on I'm really enjoying it for now, and it's good to be reminded that nice guys are out there.

Because this whole album (which came out on my birthday!) got me through a horrendous breakup.

Because TSwift is clearly my spirit animal and someone understands all my feelings despite being so very young.

Because I don't care if everyone I know makes fun of me and my un-ironic obsession with Taylor Swift.

Because this song makes me happy, and I could use a big dose of that right about now.

Please bear with me while I engage in some major white girl problems whining.

My fabulous and wonderful job is sending me to London for two weeks at the end of April!

But...this means that in the next four weeks I need to...
- attend a 3 day work summit thing
- throw a bridal shower for one of my favorite people the next day
- take comprehensive exams for two days straight on everything I've learned in three years of graduate school
- MAKE A FILM
- continue do my job 50+ hours a week

and for the bonus round...
- lose the 12 pounds I gained post breakup (oops!)
- try to have a life
- spend time with the best man in my life (Midasmonster, obviously)
- put in several hours a day waiting for the phone to ring

All of this begs the question: I can do all this, right? I can push myself to the breaking point for four weeks, and make it out fine on the other side. After all, I just have to PASS the exams, not ace them. I just have to MAKE the film, not win an academy award for it.

Better or worse, it's all over in four weeks. And then I get on a plane for London.

I was going to write a post tonight, but my head hurts. And I feel icky. And I just want to lay in bed and have my mom put her hand on my forehead.

But. She is across the country. Asleep.

So I'll have to settle for yoga breathing and acupressure. And probably advil PM. 

Remember when I had my wisdom teeth removed last week? Well, I did.

It's been five days of liquids and soft foods, and I am DYING. I'm so hungry. It's really hard to feel full when you aren't chewing or eating solid food. I've been trying hard to eat well and make sure I'm getting the vitamins, etc that I need, but blending spinach into smoothies is getting kind of old. I'm sick of pudding, and ice cream, and mashed potatoes.

So, I'm making a list of all the things I would eat right now if I could:
- Cafe Rio pork quesadilla
- matzoh with butter (Alaina used to eat this in college)
- pizza
- pretzels with cream cheese
- waffles
- bacon cheeseburger on a toasted bun
- toast
- chocolate chip cookies
- cereal. many many bowls of crunchy, delicious cereal
- grilled cheese with tomato soup
- beef jerky. just because it's chewy.

Stitches are coming out in two days. I'm hoping I'll get the go-ahead to actually use my teeth at that point. Chewing is such a luxury. Can't wait!

teeth. Warning: I'm about to talk AT LENGTH about my wisdom teeth. Since I missed a whole week of blogging because of them, it seemed fitting to write an update.

Let me take you back a few years ago, to when I was living in New York and my dentist said he wanted to take my wisdom teeth out in the next six months. I was fine with this. I had great dental insurance, and I had friends who could take care of me after surgery, and my mom was only two hours away in case I needed her. So, the time came for my next cleaning and I went in prepared to schedule oral surgery, since all four of my teeth were impacted. But this time, my dentist says that since my teeth haven't moved I should just wait it out. He said I could be 90 years old before they caused any problems, and as long as I wasn't having any pain, I was OK.

Fast forward to last week, and me spending four days doing little more than lying in bed with tears streaming down my cheeks because I'm was in so much pain. I could feel my teeth throbbing in my toes.

Yeah, that happened. Luckily, my parents live two hours earlier than I do, and on top of that they wake up insanely early, so calling them at 4am to cry was an option.

"Get thee to a dentist!" my father said.

Just kidding. He didn't say that. He said that tooth pain is legitimate and the doctor wouldn't laugh at me if I said I had a toothache. The doctor suggested the maximum dosage of Advil and lots of icing and rinsing with salt water. Doesn't that sound yummy?

Let's take a road trip for a moment...back in my senior year of high school I got really sick. With whooping cough. Because I am clearly living in the 1800s when people got whooping cough. It's actually pretty common, look it up.

Anyway, I was really sick. Like....couldn't sleep or breathe or eat or anything. Once when we were reminiscing about it my mother actually said the words "I thought we might lose you." So yeah. Sick. Not near death, but it's good to know my mom loves me. I had to use two different inhalers and take the most foul tasting cough syrup I've ever tasted. But after the first couple times I took that stuff, I looked forward to it. Because I knew that it would make me feel better and stop coughing so I could breathe and/or pass out.

That's what the salt water rinses became. As gross as they are, they are such a relief.

So I'm icing and rinsing with yummy warm salt water and taking Advil like it's my job. And it's not working. I give in and call the doctor again and she called in a prescription for Lortab, which I'd never taken. And hope to never take again. Yes, it stopped the pain, but it also left me so groggy and dizzy that I wasn't sure if it was worth it. Who am I kidding? It was worth it. The point is, I didn't feel right again until about 8 hours after I took the thing. I went to dinner with a friend and took exactly three bites of mashed potatoes before realizing that eating was a thing of the past on Lortab.

Well, after a mess of appointments with dentists and oral surgeons, I'm finally scheduled to have all four wisdom teeth extracted, as well as work done on the teeth adjacent that were damaged by them. Should be a reallllly fun time.

The good news? Harvey is flying out to take care of me for the weekend. I pretty much have the best parents ever. Don't even try to measure yours up to mine. They will always win. Know why? They're short, and therefore cuter than your parents. So on top of being awesome and wise and giving and loving and kind and hilarious and all those things, they are ADORABLE.

Have you ever noticed how as soon as you try to stop doing something it's all you can think about doing?

Like if someone tells you not to scratch, your skin suddenly crackles with dryness and the desire to be scratched. (sidenote: don't you hate when people say they need to itch something?)

Or when you decide you're NOT going to look at someone's facebook profile because it will only lead to hours of melancholy and Adele on repeat. And before you know it your fingers are starting to type the name in the search bar anyway through some sort of muscle memory that has decided to mutiny after years of conveniently remembering piano songs and now only wants to type in THE ONE NAME you don't want to type.

Yeah. That's awesome.

I have anger management issues. These stem from the fact that I have (mostly) unhealthy coping mechanisms, and no method to release the rage that occasionally builds up in me. A couple weeks ago I was so angry that I literally wanted to hit something (which hasn't ever happened before), and so I thought 'Hey! What a great idea! I'll hit something.'

And thus, my interest in boxing. It seemed like a great way to get my aggression out, and get a good work out as well. So I began researching. I found a local class and planned on going this past Tuesday. But then Professor British Accent (who I TA for) decided we needed to chat after class, causing me to miss my class.

Undeterred, I planned all week to go on Saturday. I went to bed early(ish) on Friday night after The Weepies concert, and was up and out the door by 9:10 on Saturday morning. 'I'm so motivated!' I thought to myself, smugly, in the car. And then...I found out that the gym is closing so they aren't holding classes anymore.

That sound you hear is the air being let out of my metaphorical tires.

OK, minor set back. But I had a plan B. Another gym was holding a class at 2. So I went to the grocery store to pick up a few things, went home, baked a little, cleaned my room, etc. I decided it would be a good idea to call this other gym, just in case, and thank goodness I did. For the summer, they move their Saturday class to 10:30, but could I come during the week? They'd love to have me.

Why does it feel like the world is conspiring to not let me hit something?! All I want to do is take up boxing and be like those scenes from that one JLo movie in which she learns to box to beat the snot out of her violent ex-something or other. Only minus the violent ex-something or other. And her butch haircut.

ps-please note the tags: cranky and whining. I am clearly horrible.

I keep telling myself I just have to make it to Monday. If I can make it to Monday and get everything done, I'm in the clear.

But the truth is, that's just a lie I'm telling myself. Yes, by Monday I will be moved into a new apartment, and the documentary I've been working on will be done. However...school is starting up at the end of August, and being in a new apartment means a huge change in my life. A change that is terrifying and exciting and wonderful and awful all at the same time.

I think this is how we get through life, by lying to ourselves. It's amazing what we can convince ourselves of, and how many times we fall for the same lie. At times like these, I think about something my dad told me once. I asked him if life ever got easier, and he said "No, you just stop expecting it to be."

So wish me luck, blog readers. That I will finish cutting the doc (and that it won't suck) and that somehow I will miraculously pull of a move in two(ish) days. It's times like these I wish I had better coping mechanisms.

I am just in a melancholy mood lately.

Also, I can't type that word [melancholy] without thinking of Smashing Pumpkins. And sixth grade. (Which is when I bought that album...Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness.) And dances at the community center. And the feeling you have when you're young that the world is full of possibilities, and that absolutely anything could happen.

And that's a happy thought. So you see, me being melancholy is sort of good and bad.

It's only 9:02 and my day is already a disaster!

Woke up and my left eye is red and irritated.
Went to transfer footage for my documentary and discovered...it's gone!
Got disconnected from the internet, and I've been uploading my final project (for my final today) for hours...and now I have to start over.

I'm a little scared about what the rest of the day will be like.

All I want to do is chew something. In the past five days of eating soft food I've determined that chewing is essential to feeling full. And happiness.

I want to eat chicken or pizza or SOMETHING THAT'S NOT PUDDING.

I thought I'd be feeling much better by now, but I'm not. And I'm going a little bit stir crazy from being in the house since Tuesday. I've been trying to keep myself busy (vacuuming, cleaning my room and bathroom, going through all my clothes, painting my nails, watching a lot of movies) but I think it's time to go outside. Even if it's only to go to the grocery store and pick up more soft foods...because that's all I can swallow.

Oy.

Can I whine just for a little? Please?

I have strep throat. (and for some reason, whenever I type that, I want to spell it strept)

My throat had been a little bit sore since Friday, but things really escalated Sunday evening. I took some Tylenol PM hoping for 8 hours of deep sleep, but at 1:42 AM I was wide awake. And tossing. And unable to swallow.

I knew it was time to admit I was sick, and made an appointment at the health center for later that afternoon. It was rainy and gross, and I had to wait for a while before I was seen (even though I had an appointment). When the doctor felt my neck the first thing out of her mouth was "Oh my, that's not good." Not very encouraging.

It turns out my lymph nodes and tonsils were so swollen that at first she thought I had a very muscular neck. Yeah. She took a throat culture (which was painful, b/c she couldn't get past my swollen glands to my throat) and the verdict is: strep.

I had to drop off some exams off for the professor I TA for, and was hoping not to run into anyone I knew, but of course I did (in sweats with wavy, un blow-dried hair, and no make up). And then hit every red light possible on the way home.

Then Kristy texted me that she had tickets to the Jazz game last night, but I was obviously too sick to go. Which was a bummer, but not a tragedy. Until I found out they were playing the Sixers last night. Yes, I missed out on tickets to the Jazz playing my hometown team. And they lost.

So you can see how it was really an awful day. But there were some bright spots...

Heather came over to watch The Bachelor finale and brought Frostys. And Brad picked Emily! Also, the doctor prescribed a diet of ice cream, pudding, and other soft foods until I can swallow properly again. So my Lent boycott of sweets is suspended for a little while.

Here's hoping I'm well in time for my Spring Break trip next week.