Bits & Pieces

That sounds much funnier if you say it a la Mike Myers in the old SNL "Simon" sketches.

So, I'm done. Officially done with my master's degree. I graduate next Monday. Grades posted on Saturday. Done. Finished. Kaput. I hope they spell my name right.

Today my department spilled in and out of elevators heading to the first floor for our special "congratulatory luncheon"--a poor excuse for a reward during which V.P.'s smile encouragingly, use words most of my coworkers probably don't understand, and make us do things like yell "we did a great job!". Perfect. I love humiliation. We sat facing front in a stuffy room and shoved stale, soggy wraps into our mouths while discussing which one of the company-logoed "door prizes" we hoped we'd win. My name was drawn. I chose the tote bag.
My department recovered $190 million dollars last year, or roughly $2 million per person.
Thanks for the wraps and tote bags, fuckers.

My cat is pissed off at me. We decided he was getting a bit too, hmm...rubenesque? So, he's now on a diet of Iams diet cat food. He does not appreciate this, and tends to follow us around meowing insistently.

I'm at this weird stage where I've put on weight, so most of my clothes don't fit that well, but I don't want to buy new clothes that won't fit when I take off said weight. So I tend to wear the same outfits or combinations of outfits over and over.

My parents are coming on Friday for my graduation. This is the first time they've come to visit since my undergrad graduation, and the very first time they've come to Boston. I'm pretty psyched. I think they're bigger drinkers and partiers than I--Mom keeps saying things like "Just so there's beer, it doesn't matter if it rains!", and "It's important that we keep hydrated!" I'd like to point out, as a sort of disclaimer, that my parents are neither alcoholics nor white trash. They're actually semi-parrotheads. Hope I can keep up.

My birthday cake is sitting unmade in its original mixlike form on Sean's kitchen table. My birthday was almost a month ago. I have resigned myself to a cakeless existence.

My friend who works at an apartment complex in a Cleveland suburb was telling me the other day that they've dropped the rent on their one bedrooms to $395. I can't seem to find a 2 bedroom for less than $1500. Fucking Boston.

I posted this on Crystallyn's site, but for those of you who don't read it--the crazy Boston cat lady apparently had an excuse for why she took her great dane with her everywhere--she has a disability. She's dyslexic. Seriously--my roommate pulled it off the AP wire. I love it.