weekends come and go.

When I was younger I was a huge fan of the Anne of Green Gables series (there, it's out!). One of my favorite Anneisms was "I am drowning in the depths of despair." I've used that wonderful, overly dramatic phrase a number of times in the past decade, and each time it has been anything but an accurate description of my life. But it occurred to me this morning that right now, I may in fact be drowning in the depths of despair. No drama, no over-exaggeration involved. I just spent an entire weekend doing... nothing. I mean, in all fairness to myself, I did do laundry and some major anxiety cleaning, which can both be considered fairly productive actions. I also went to downtown Main Street with some people on Friday night and ended up finding an apartment to sublet this summer. But I did not work on my thesis nor did I do any homework. Drowning, people, drowning.

We leave for NFA in a little over a week (GO PANTS!). After I get back, there are only a little over two weeks left of school. Point being, everything is happening too fast for me to be philandering with cleaning supplies on a Sunday afternoon.

-buelsy (needs to kick it into high gear)

headache city.

I'm playing around with this little idea called: no drinking until the thesis is complete (April 15, 2008 is the current due date). I believe this course of action would be beneficial for four (for four!) reasons:

1) Like babies, theses risk birth defects when their mothers imbibe alcohol (Mine has arguably already incurred damage. I'm sorry, little thesis!)
2) Alcohol kills brain cells. If I have EVER in my life needed brain cells, it's now. I can kill them later... when I have tenure.
3) Think of all the calories! This would be a good way to kick start the diet I've been procrastinating on and lose a good five to ten pounds without going to the gym (cringe).
4) Alchie is expensive. No drinks for five months could translate into lots of other lovely consumerism for Buelsy.

I'm not making a final decision yet, because let's face it, five months is long time to be the Designated Driver, the Sober and Snobby Onlooker, the Polite Decliner, and the Crazed Graduate Student without Release (Well, I take that last one back. I in fact find release in plenty of other things such as Reality TV, Really Good Thai Food, Going to Target, and Online Window Shopping). Thinking very seriously about this whole idea, though... final decision coming soon.

I have SO MUCH TO DO today. First and most importantly: eat some oatmeal and take something pharmaceutic to stop the sensation of entire freeways of cars crashing into my head.

--buelsy (all about the excess)

two dollar tacos.

This has already been a hard week to get through (yes, I realize it just began), and it's going to get even harder. Paper due tomorrow night, another paper due the night after that (albeit much less of a big deal), a tournament this weekend, a tournament next Tuesday, NCA from Wednesday-Sunday, and then Chicago for Thanksgiving the next Wednesday. OH EM GEE.

So that's that. Heart failure.

Samson by Regina Spektor: Best song ever.

--buelsy (in the throes of academic torture)

seven is the number.

THINGS I ENJOY:

1. Vanilla scented trash bags.
2. Doing dishes instead of writing theses.
3. Smelling my cats.
   
4. Pink hats with ear flaps.
   
5. Fitness magazines.
   
6. Planning future Apple purchases.
   
7. Classy Home Depots.

THINGS I VERY MUCH DO NOT ENJOY:

1. Daylight Savings Time.
2. Sleeping on the floor.
3. Coffee jitters on Sunday nights.
4. Following the advice in Fitness magazines.
5. Spending money on my car.
6. Thinking about PhD programs.
   
7. Regular Home Depots.

--buelsy (has the blues)

sunday crunch time.

I've gotten into a bad habit of eating at McDonald's. It's close to my house, it's super cheap, and sometimes... $1 double cheeseburgers just taste good. It's also comforting on days like today, when I feel like I'm drowning in the world. Nothing like a little saturated fat to keep you afloat. Really, though, it's Sunday afternoon and I've accomplished virtually nothing this weekend. At least in the productive, academic sense. Or the productive pay-your-bills, get-your-oil-changed, do-your-laundry, buy-your-cat-food sense. On the Buelsy Productivity Scale, it was a 0. Time for a heart-weakening eight hour catch up session.

I did see Snakemouth, which was wonderful and bizarre. Wonderful because I love her, and bizarre because it felt like the past year and a half hadn't even existed. At one point on Thursday evening, I could have sworn that Gayley Avenue was down the block and around the corner, that JAD was across the hall, and that imbibing alcohol was a deliciously bad idea because I had to work at Expo in the morning. I understand the concept of Glory Days now.

I also saw an improv. show where A was working, went to a Capoeira performance*, caught up with K and CT (who FELL DOWN at said Capoeira show), and was prescribed lots of pharmaceuticals to make me feel less sad about developing sciatica at such a young age.

*Totally rad. I want to join. Not sure if they take sciatic neurotics.

My prospectus meeting is on Wednesday. I'm going to go hyperventilate now.

--buelsy (speeches to write, bills to pay)