Good News, Bad News: Woops!

Wow, it's been awhile. Sorry about that.
First, there were finals, although I think the related procrastinating led me to write more than usual. Then there were the book days, family bonding, drinking, eating, travel, more bonding. There was a concert, some travel, some fiction, some shopping, some self-indulgence (a haircut, a pedicure, 3,000 calories a day, new shoes, and nary a sober evening) (Ha! Nary! Ten points if you can use it in a sentence today without laughing). There was no exercise, no theory to read, and hardly any fresh fruit or veggies. For awhile, I felt like I had fallen off the wagon, but who gets on an intense-study, no-fun, up-at-5am wagon? Really, it was more like derailed; it remains unclear whether it was finals or vacation that derailed me.
Good News: Denver, where I met up with Amanda, Sarah, some margaritas, a sunburn, the Title IX store(purveyor of fabulous sports bras), and M.I.A. (purveyor of seizures).
Bad News: the M.I.A. concert proves that I am old and frumpy.
Good News: Fort Collins, where I hung out with Amanda, her ridiculous dogs, got an Indian taco and another sunburn, and caught a ride to Casper with Jane.
Bad News: I'm still peeling.
Good News: All my siblings made it to Casper for Chris' graduation. Hard to describe unless you've met them all at once, but there were ukuleles, didgeridoos, nose flutes, Apples to Apples,
five Explorers, and three dogs. Also drinking and lots of hilarious wedding "planning."
Bad News: This wedding stuff is kind of stressful. I don't know what my colors are! We aren't registered yet!
Good News: No one will care what my colors are if a gypsy-trained, tambourine-playing pygmy goat jumps out of my wedding cake on the big day.

The case of the mystery alarm clock

If you're reading this, chances are I've complained to you in the last several weeks about how I keep waking up between 4 and 4:30am and can't get back to sleep. General consensus so far has been stress-related insomnia. So when I went to bed last night, having finished my last term paper (yay!), I expected to sleep well. Or at least better. At least past 4:30.
Well, I was wrong. I didn't sleep. But I did figure out what's been waking me up every morning! A semi truck, much like the one in this picture (only ours is bright green), has been barreling up and down our street about once an hour. At just before 4am, it was empty and headed toward the river, where Ford has some kind of storage lot for new vehicles. At 4:47am, it headed back up our street toward the highway.
The thing is, our street is residential. There are stop signs! There is a non-residential street, without stop signs, just two blocks east of us, which is where these trucks used to drive.
Here are my questions:
1) What the hell?
2) What would you call this kind of truck?
3) Who would you contact about this? The city, the company, the trucker?
4) Where do I get one of those "Not a truck route" signs?
5) Is it legal to just construct my own road block?
Sigh. I'm going on vacation for a week. Hopefully, by the time I get back, this will have stopped on its own....

Quote of the day: Yoshimi battles the pink robots of modernity

“The self changes by one’s holding fast to it. (That which does not change is not a self.) I am ‘I’ and yet not ‘I.’ If I were simply ‘I,’ that would not even be ‘I.’ In order that I be ‘I,’ there must necessarily be a juncture at which I am outside of ‘I.’” - Takeuchi Yoshimi, "What is Modernity?"
I'm done with classes. I'm done with exams. I'm done with everything except this one long paper for my history of consciousness class. I feel like I've been avoiding this paper basically my entire life. Perhaps you will understand what I mean if I tell you that this quote is taken from the chapter I'm writing about - one of the easiest, shortest, most reasonable pieces of theory we read all semester. So it's kind of obvious that I'm having a hard time concentrating - there are so many other, better things to do than to worry about what Yoshimi thinks modernity is. Like laundry, and dishes, and watching Cricket kill and eat a fly, and picking at my split ends, and wondering why on earth, if this babble counts as theory, the crazy, chatty, homeless man on the bus the other day is homeless and not a well-respected theorist. And blogging.
Disclaimer: I held off on blogging until now, and I already have an impressive 11 of my minimum 15 pages written. And the paper isn't due until Friday.

Spring, again

This is the view from my kitchen window. Note the blooming magnolia AND the clothes drying on the line. You can't hear it, but there are birds chirping. I'm beginning to fantasize about vegetable gardens (what should I plant?). Hopefully spring sticks this time around....

Quote of the Day

"She was, you know, in, like, the putting out business." - B., speaking on the economic role (which was not prostitution) played by one of the Prophet's wives in early Medinan society, during the presentation of her final project in Women in Islam. B. is apparently at the top of her class, and possesses a bewildering combination of ditziness (stupidity with dimples) and arrogance which leads me to believe she will probably someday be my boss.