Overdrive

I feel so scatterbrained at this time of year. My work-focused mind is saying,

(source: http://i.imgur.com/giOntby.gif)

At the same time, my summer-brain is kicking in, saying,

(source: http://s3-ec.buzzfed.com/static/enhanced/webdr05/2013/5/20/10/anigif_enhanced-buzz-3254-1369060826-16.gif)

And (what should come as no surprise) it's incredibly difficult to find a happy balance between the two. I want to stay late and crank out work at my desk AND go home early and have a dinner consisting of hummus and red wine. And I can't do both. So, I continue to work in overdrive, but sometimes the lazy is in overdrive, too. So what I'm left with are weird thoughts and mild obsessions that fizzle out as quickly as they arrived. Here's a sampling:

• Were we the only ones who cracked up when Peggy stabbed Abe ("The Better Half")? Because I thought it was HYSTERICAL.
• Two days after a weed-pulling marathon, I'm still in a serious amount of pain. I even dreamt about centipede grass and giant roots. This is just more proof that I need to get my lazy tail to the gym stat.
• I'm happy to not have to work on Memorial Day, but dammit, it really screwed up my work calendar for what little of the semester is left.
• I should give up thinking I'm going to grade everything that is left in my pile. I don't think anyone will care.
• I think we have four episodes of "House of Cards" to watch on Netflix before it's the end of the first season, and most of our reactions are us yelling "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!"
• With that said, I love it, and Kevin Spacey is fantastically evil. And he's Macbeth. And therefore I love it, because apparently I have a sick mind.
• I still haven't had time to organize/edit/play with photos from California or my friend's wedding. And this makes me sad.
• A trip to Lowe's automatically means a trip to Chick-fil-A. I've had a lot of waffle fries in the past week.
• I feel lucky to be blessed with good neighbors.
• I don't recall loving a team as much as I love this year's Penguins. All of them. Even Tyler Kennedy.
• I've scared my cat with my yelling during hockey games and sent The Husband to quieter areas of the house. I'm nothing if not loud.
• My food laziness the past couple weeks has me worried that I won't complete my summer project. But I also think that feeling will pass once I have a break from work.
• I may have disassociated myself from WVU, but nothing makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside than standing in a circle with The Six, singing "Country Roads." Chills of happiness.
• Need to feel happy? She & Him, Volumes 1, 2, and 3.
• The only thing I've read for pleasure since spring break has been 2/3 of The Great Gatsby (again). I'll fix that soon.

Here's hoping I can kick it down a notch in the next couple weeks!

'Tis the Season that's Finally Over

The phone has stopped ringing. Friendly strangers are no longer knocking on my door. And the highways have (mostly) been cleaned of the signs that littered them.

Election season is over, friends, and I couldn't be happier.

It was stressful. In fact, I don't think I've ever felt this invested in an election before. I'm a proud democrat and have been my whole life, so I'm satisfied with the results. Is Obama perfect? No. In fact, my views probably align a little more closely to the Green Party, but I live in a swing state and wasn't about to take any chances with Virginia's outcome. But I think Race to the Top is some serious crap, and I'm happy that I'm not forced to belong to a union just because of my job. I wish education had different leadership at the federal level and teachers -- for once -- caught a break.


But I'm also happy that we have a president who has earned the respect of world leaders. One who respects women and our rights to make decisions about our bodies with our doctors. One who wants us to have clean air and water and believes in other options besides antiquated energy resources. And one who believes it doesn't matter who you love, you should have the same rights as anyone else (and also have the right to serve your country without hiding). I'm happy we have a first lady making strides with nutrition and setting a positive example, showing us it really does matter what we put in our bodies. And I'm happy we have four more years of seeing cute pictures of Bo.

Unfortunately, I have to report that some friends and family members have said some hateful things and have tried to start arguments. I'm sad that my father has felt intimidated at work because of his liberal beliefs and worried he couldn't put an Obama sign in his yard because he feared vandalism. However, I'm thankful I had very civil discussions with friends whose views could not be more opposite mine. And as policy is shaped throughout the next four years, I hope those conversations can continue. It's good to be informed, listen to analysis (instead of yelling pundits), and draw your own conclusions, not what your 24-hour cable station du jour is telling you.

But I need a break. America needs a break. And right now, I'd like to go back to focusing on baking, boots, and books, not bitterness and binders.

Ode to a Saturday

Back when I was in high school, my girlfriends and I took a trip one night to a Mexican restaurant outside of Pittsburgh. This was a huge deal because driving to Pittsburgh from our houses without our parents was a huge deal. We were all babies who led happy (albeit sheltered) lives and we were spreading our delicate little wings. We tested the strength of those wings, were sufficiently happy with the results that night, and had a goofy, enjoyable night as any group of high school best friends could have. Naturally, no night could be complete without an abundance of inside jokes. On the way back home, we forever memorialized those jokes in a poem, titled "Ode to Saturday." I'm not sure my copy still exists, but I've no doubts that somebody has it, tucked in a box with notes and awards and yearbooks we can't bear to part with just yet.

Recalling this makes me not only miss my dears, but is making me think my Saturday 12 years later deserves its own dedication.

Ode to a Saturday

There is something to be said
for sleeping in, then lazily making breakfast,
for tea with honey and a touch of milk,
for pretty skirts purchased with discount codes,
for watching the garden grow,
for tea parties with
fancy dresses, high heels, and hats
and big dogs sniffing tiny babies,
for cooking with a wooden spoon in one hand,
a glass of wine in the other,
for books that should have been read
a long, long time ago
and catalogs fresh out of the mailbox,
for teams celebrating goals
and the roar of the crowd,
for the smell of spring, herbs,
and a hot, soapy shower.
There is something to be said
for love, hope, peace, and joy,
all warmly felt on a Saturday afternoon.

-rlk7m, 5.12.12