Hot Tubs, Babies, and Sailing to the Moon

I am on page nine of a 12-15 page paper, the very last thing I have to do for grad school EVER. It's due tomorrow and I can't make myself look at it, even if it is about some dude from the 16th century flying to the moon via gansas. OH yes, Spanish geese. (Second best mode of transportation besides seg-ways in the shape of a dragon-swan.) The moral of this story is that I am free to do things like buy myself a bottle of Andre, drive home, and blog in the dark surrounded by old papers, books, and a large old bottle of Simply Orange, which has at least 1/2 cup of orange juice left in it. I am well aware that these things stand in for later versions of cats, cobbler recipes, Ensure, and coupons. All of which I'm cool with now. I'm just...not surrounded by them.

I am feeling dfhoeddfesdareh right now. These random letters indicate my current state of melancholy/relief/reflection. This probably has something to do with the aforementioned Hot Tub Time Machine, which I'm almost certain could be distilled down into the following: The only way to undo being a loser is to find a hot tub time machine, time travel, predict the future, sing the black eyed peas, and become rich.

My current state is probably MORE linked to this being the end of the grad school road. Grad school, at least for me, and I feel for most of the people I know, was a glorious train wreck. Maybe it's obvious to say that where you start is generally not where you end up, but I feel like our program dramatic arcs probably out-dramaed Mad Men, and maybe even Friday Night Lights. Not Weeds though. And definitely not Beast Wars. Mostly I'm just sad that so many people (like of course, my fellow blogger AmberN) are leaving. It's the end of an era, if an era is defined by three years. Insert me warbling about everyone I know going away in the end. (Or dancing on a pole while singing Ace of Base, or doing the rap parts of TLC's "Waterfalls.")

SUMMER PLANS ONCE PEOPLE ABANDON ME FOR GREENER PASTURES
My first order of business is to make my sister a youtube sensation. Video coming soon.

My second order of business is to find a Mongolian baby to steal. As AmberN predicted, seeing "Babies" only increased baby fever.

My third order of business is to learn how to use chopsticks. I embarrass people in sushi restaurants.

My fourth order of business involves me finding out, just several moments ago, that Power Rangers is being revived. I think you know where this is going. I want to be a ranger.

I think these are lofty enough goals for now.

Hot Tub Time Machine

So yesterday, AmandaB and I went to our much loved and adored dollar theater for what promised to be an exciting romp through time-- three old dudes and a 20 yr old sit in a hot tub and are transported. Which has so much promise. I mean, I was expecting The Hangover meets Bill & Ted's Excellent adventure. Instead I got Old School meets 16 Again. Inferior in all respects. We were just bored. And that's a problem. I mean, we didn't even have enough material to make fun of it. It was no Hannah Montana, I'll tell you that.

So I don't really have a lot to say about it-- but i wanted to commemorate the advancement of tasks on ye old Bucket List.

Things that seem impossible at this point to complete: The Segue (segue dealer shut down, sadness), Laser Tag (because it's far away), and an all day Harry's excursion (which seems sinful-- but really... I have no weekends left in Boise that haven't already been claimed by some god or another-- meaning I only have one Sunday left in Boise and I have obligations that aren't juggleable).

That said-- maybe we can make it an evening at Harrys? Like... a Wednesday night? Sorry Dead Acorn. We are as sad as you are.

Karaoke, A last Hurrah

Epic Drinking Take 1!

How to Train Your Dragon

This is the aforementioned old man statue groping.

Dragons and Babies

Many times over the course of my quarter-century, I have uttered the phrase "I want one." When I was little it was probably about cookies, or an easy bake oven (still bitter about that, btw), or fire. Yeah, fire. Now when I utter the phrase, it's usually still about cookies, but also might be in reference to: clothing featuring pokemon, fish sticks, an alcoholic beverage, or ron weasley.



So pretty much anything. I can distill the wanting of one into two major overarching categories: dragons and babies. (Fish sticks goes under dragons, in case you were wondering. And Ron Weasley does too, IN SPITE OF WHAT ANYONE MIGHT SAY about our age gap.) There are many things I want, but it's safe to safe to say that when I see most any baby or anything featuring a dragon--or just a straight-up dragon--I want it.

Recently, Amber and I ventured to see "How to Train Your Dragon." Did you know that Boise houses the Coliseum? Neither did we! We, clad in our 3d specs, wandered around the strangely deserted cluster of shops designed solely for the movie theater. I copped a feel on a golden man statue, and we pondered the strange decision of the golden family to fly their kite in a fountain of water. Then it was dragon i-max time. I have often told AmberN to not audibly weep in movies, but inevitably, I am the one who ends up weeping. And like a 12 year old girl, I wept. BUT THE DRAGON IS LIKE THE MOST ADORBS THING EVAH!!!!!!! It has the most expressive eyes, it spoons, and it is so freaking sassy. I can't even deal.

I was just typing "How to train your dragon" into google, and "how to get pregnant" came up as a suggestion. I don't ever feel obligated to use segues or transitions (considering how some people assume that I'm generally drunk when I blog), but I can't really ask for much better of a transition than that. My next want: babies. My inexplicable desire to fawn over every baby ever, in light of the fact that my general trainwreck of a life (one time I put chewed gum on my bedroom wall and left it there until someone pointed it out) is in no way compatible with the rearing of any sort of baby. I'm not sure there are sorts of babies. ANYWAY, Big Ben(nett), my biological clock, has been well documented. It's all sad and puzzling. But imagine my excitement when I found out that there was a new documentary coming out called..... Babies. This guy follows the (cute little) steps of four babies from all over the world. I realize this is just a cheap fix for my problem, but I will so take it.