bonafide bad-ass.

Fine, fine, riding a motorcycle does not technically make you a bad-ass. I mean if we're really splitting hairs I'm the same little dweeb in slightly less slow motion. But it was a pretty cool feeling mastering the Big Bike. I earned my motorcycle license last weekend, taking the skills test (figure 8's, hard stopping) in what would have passed as a monsoon. And although I needed the license for a 150cc scooter, I had to learn to drive a regular motorcycle to pass. Dangerous. Because I had so much fun that now I want a Ninja of my very own.

But for now this monster scooter does the job. It's lightweight but picks right up, corners tightly, and I've taken it over 50 mph easily. It's too light to take any faster, though, and that's fine: I too operate best at lower speeds. :) And as I'm not vehicularly inclined, my friend Joe's been instrumental in getting the bike on the road, from showing me how to change the oil at 2 am (and... um... understand the battery and the buttons) to helping me get used to being out there in traffic before actually driving in it.

If you catch this Joe, you are a good friend for spending all the time and not ridiculing me when I screamed every time we turned a corner and giggled like a ten-year-old for hitting 25 mph. Someday, if there is no trash to carry, I'LL drive YOU home from work. And scream and giggle turning corners. (Sorry. Some things don't change.)

they seem to have a death wish.

I know the number of lizard stories is bordering on ridiculous at this point but seriously. It's better I get it out of my system here than call one of you up every time I find creepy crawlies in strange places.

Today it was IN MY OVEN. Geesh. I open the door to check on the sandwich I'm toasting and WHAT IS THAT SLITHERING OUT?? Seeing ANYTHING come slithering out of the place where your yummy food lies defenseless is just plain disgusting. I mean, I still ate it. But. EW.

announcement of awesomeness.

(SPOILER ALERT: CHP classmates, reading may spoil your mood. Most of the time I'm the one harboring snarky bitter wishes to see that obnoxiously diligent student trip and fall on her face, but right now I'm that student. I had a good day! Please don't trip me next time we meet.)

After weeks of feeling hopelessly incompetent - scrambling to finish papers, scratching my head during exams, clueless about navigating grown-up life without showing I'm clueless - someone's thrown me a bone. Thanks Mentor. You are Awesome.

I spent ages working on this pretend grant, an assignment for class which will also double (handy!) as the first two chapters of my thesis. I sat up for hours the night before, bleary-eyed and slaving over the last bit of it which turned out to be way more work than I'd bargained for. I felt like the crappiest of crap, barely skirting in under the deadline something I thought wasn't nearly what it should be and in which my mentor - who knows the project well - would surely find a billion flaws. Auuughhh. Commence hiding under pillows and humming.

But - no! In fact he too said he'd thought he would approach it over-critically knowing all about it, but that he didn't need to: it was an excellently written work! Oooh. And told me today - I'm still glowing - that with the chapters written and most of the data collected, I'm further on my thesis than any first-year he's had. Anything that happened after that was all marshmallows and tiny lutes as far as I'm concerned. I have done things right. I FEEL SO GOOD.

I am going to keep this going as long as possible, which means never looking at my final grade for Child Assessment.

someone loved.

"What good are words?
I'm feeling that impotence which wants
a Lazarus to rise
everytime someone loved is sinking."

(Stephen Dunn, Letter About Myself to You)


The past weeks were hectic with finals and papers. By now I could write about lots of exciting things, like the motorcycle license I'm about to earn (and the phat ride I'm getting it for! Haven't taken it off any sweet jumps yet), or my brother's upcoming wedding in Michigan, or the fact that in a few weeks I'll pick up my first-ever therapy case - at a relatively early, borderline-premature point in my career. Which I'm super-excited about and will mention another time.

But I get to write about whatever stupid thing I want and tonight it's the purring critter curled on my knee. Yes, Shaniqua is just a cat. But she's been my little buddy for as long as I've lived alone, literally next to me almost every moment I'm home. Whether I like it or not.

Since we moved to Florida (again, Florida, whyyyyy) she's been ill three times, each worse than the one before. Sunday morning I found her hiding in the closet behind the vacuum, unable to walk or eat. My Amazing Friend Rae helped me bring her to the emergency vet, where they kept her alive overnight. Monday she was still "laterally recumbent": could only lay on her side glassy-eyed, and couldn't lay upright, or eat. I held her while we waited, and if I stepped away she'd cry and try to sit up and see where I went. I felt terrible leaving her at the vet again that night, but she needed care I couldn't give her.

The doctors can't tell what it is. The ER and primary vets agree (so do I) that she has some significant undiagnosed disease which is leading to chronic episodes. An IV perks her back up but it's no cure. The vet school could run diagnostics for $1000-3000 (ahem not in my budget for the next decade or so). It's obvious where that leaves us. Kitty's restored for now, but she likely won't stay that way. At this rate she'll be sick again in a couple months, and that's hardly a way for her to live, or a thing I can afford. So this last hospitalization has bought us more time, and that's all. I'm not putting her through all that next time; just bringing her in quickly to avoid more suffering.

That's sad. I will miss her (expect a rambling, tearful post which you can skip if you want). But she's not suffering now. After gorging herself on yummy prescription food and a lengthy nap in my lap, she faceplanted into my palm and rolled on her back in a fit of purring. How worthwhile, seeing a creature so happy to be alive. And you can tease her for being slow, cross-eyed and, frankly, weird, but she is always ecstatic to love and be loved. I'm glad she'll have that a little longer before she goes. In fact, until then, she can have it all she wants.