I'm a Grandma

I'm a grandma. Or at least that's what Paul says. He asked me what I wanted to do tonight (Friday night) and I told him I wanted to go to bed early. (Because I'd been staying up until 12:30 doing homework for most of the week.) That's only one facet of my granny-ness though. Apparently, I also am drawn to dressing like one. On occasion, Paul has had to intervene to keep the granny at bay. He could run down the rest of the list, but it's 10:30 pm and I need to go to bed. Though if I was a real grandma, I would have been in bed by 9:30 pm!

Chrome-Plated Birthday

Paul celebrated his 27th birthday on Monday. He was showered in Chinese food, DVDs, attention, and chocolates befitting a birthday boy. Arriving about the same time was his massive new computer. I like to call it "The Beast." It's like two feet long and dramatically shaped for maximum awesomeness (or so I've heard). Apparently, everything about it is maximally awesome. I'll try to post a picture of it--along with the nicely finished and decorated room it's in--someday soon. I actually have lots of pictures to post; I just need to get around to uploading them.

In completely unrelated news, I've been using Chrome (Google's new browser) and it is fabulous. I love it to death. The only problem, well the only two problems, are that is so new that some sites don't support it (like Netflix's video player, which of course claims to only support Explorer anyway) and I can't get Paul to use it. So I can't entirely stop using Explorer (because streaming free video is, you know... free) and whenever Paul uses my laptop, I always have to close Explorer and open Chrome. It's a minor nuisance at worst, but I find his refusal slightly puzzling. I like to claim he's stuck in the past, just to tease him. That's what happens when you're 27, you know. You turn into a geezer and everything becomes automatically better back in the day.

I Go to A New-Age Feelgoodery!

It's true, it's true. I go to a new-age feelgoodery. I am constantly being bombarded with e-mails about sustainability and going green. Ironically, the university even published and distributed (free of charge, of course) a pamphlet on how to save the earth. Most of it was pretty standard (wash full loads, turn up or down the thermostat depending on the season), but they lost me after exhorting me to consider the environmental impact of my cosmetics and to always unplug appliances not in use. (This led Paul to quip, "Your blush is killing elephants in Africa every day. Every day!") I'm sorry, but I am quite sure that the environmental impact of my cosmetics is completely negliable in both the big and small picture. I also refuse to unplug anything. If turning it off or, in the case of the microwave, using a just tiny fraction of electricity isn't enough of a reduction, then there's no reasoning with you. Sometimes I want to point out that people will always consume a certain amount of energy; at some point you can no longer reduce usage without forgoing certain modern conveniences. Personally, I'm not going back to washboard and tub or an ice chest.

Joining the Ranks of the Gainfully Employed

Paul's job search finally paid off. He was formally hired today to do quality control for a local nutriceutical company. ("Nutriceutical" is a made up word that refers to vitamins and those wacky suppliments they sell at health food stores.) It's a bit of a drive (20 mins), but he can get there by bus.

I'm doing better settling into my routine and getting used to life here. It's a different place, but not necessarily a bad one. I've found a place with a worse newspaper than the Daily Universe. "66 Percent of Working during College" might be the best headline I've ever read. It's weird to see the letters to the editor about how the university president is a total sell-out and the joys of binge drinking and atheism instead of the usual outrageous complaints about allegedly offensive media and immodest backpacks.

Taking A Breather

Whew. The first week of school is over and Labor Day weekend is here. I survived the first week for school and am feeling better about life. Things are going well in Paul's job search and hopefully we'll have some good news to share next week. We've unpacked all of our stuff and repacked everything that needed to be repacked. The apartment is really coming together--we're not reaching for something and saying, Wait, we don't have a pot/a stapler/a desk.

Speaking about that, if you see a box of sweaters or lids to pots or my black purse, send it my way.

A Sampler Tray of Posts

I was trying to figure out what to do with these three postlets I had written when I was inspired by Iron Chef to follow Bobby Flay's example of using sampler trays to make my work look more impressive.

Postlet #1: Tempe is Funny Place
Tempe is a funny place. Sometimes, it's like I'm living in Bizarro World Provo. There's an alleged grid system, but it's all messed up and all the streets have names and there's three 12th Streets (really)and lots of streets aren't through streets and there are random curves and it's all just very confusing. But then I pay $3.59 for gas and there's free shuttle buses from my apartment to downtown Tempe and ASU and lots of regular buses and light rail (in December) that I can ride for free as an ASU student. There are no grocery stores close by, but there is a Trader Joe's with which I am horrifically in love. There's tons of pizza places, but even more coffee houses and even more liquor stores. I can totally hook you up with a keg of beer for $65--Bud or Coors. I've got a coupon. Yeah, I picked up a Devil's Deals coupon books on campus and between the usual pizza/tanning/car wash coupons were coupons for "custom glass pipes" and free pregnancy tests. Life in Tempe is funny.

Postlet #2: Glamorous Grad Student Life
I went up to ASU last week and meet with a couple of faculty members. I acquired a temporary advisor and a course plan for the first year. The visits were semi-stressful and comical. First, all parking downtown--including the university visitor parking--is paid (cash only), which is very annoying. Second, the first person I met didn't quite remember me, so there was some awkward explaining about how no, that wasn't what I wanted to study and no, I hadn't taken that class. In fact, there was a lot of no-ing going on. Anyway, he assigned me to an advisor. My advisor is a very laid-back individual who used the word "synergy" like three or four times. It was a different experience. At least he seemed aware of who I was and what I was interested in. I owe him thirty bucks because he gave me a copy of his book (at a forty percent discount, he pointed out). I am to read sample works of everyone in the department before picking a permanent advisor in a month.

I have to take Japanese 101. I knew it was coming, but ugh. Paul tried to cheer me up by pointing out that it isn't a tonal language, but his optimism was cancelled out by the scathing reviews my textbook got on Amazon. Oh, well. Three foreign language courses in a semester never killed anyone, right?

Postlet #3: I am Surrounded by Nice People
Unpacking all of my stuff, I was reminded how I have been surrounded by nice people my whole life. For example, hanging on the wall next to the door in the living room is the cardboard mask named the Sick Monster. My friend Mary made the Sick Monster for me when I was sick to scare away illness. It's pretty awesome. On the red DVD rack is a picture of the Dying Gaul. It's my favorite piece of Hellenistic sculpture. My friend Joey took the picture for me on a trip to Italy. In the background is a really angry tour guide. (Taking pictures isn't allowed in museums.) One box was full of the cards my Grandma Kraemer has sent me. My grandma is a card person; I don't know if you know one, but card people are great. She sends cards for every occasion: birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, congratulation for special occasions. Nothing perks you up like a fun St. Patrick's Day card from your grandma. Occasionally, I have ambitions to become a card person, but ultimately, I lack the follow-through. Which is pretty much all there is to it. I could go on; I'm sure I have something from everyone I know. Maybe that's why I, unlike a certain ex-roommate currently living in a cave in Costa Rica, don't feel weighed down by my possessions. How can physical reminders of happy times and good friends and family ever weigh you down?

Pics of the New Apartment

Here are some pictures of the new apartment. There's no exterior shots yet, nor are there any pictures of the second bedroom or balcony because it was too dark. I'll try to add those tomorrow.