I promise to never use cheesy song titles as update titles. Maybe. Okay, I can't actually promise that, we all know how much I love cheesy song titles.
Anyway, as said cheesy song/update title suggests, I am living out the last of my days in America for about a year. On Saturday I say goodbye to Washington and a brief hello to Oregon, until early early Tuesday morning. From Oregon it's an even briefer (thank god) hello to New Jersey and then off I go! It's sad to think that the last state I will be in is New Jersey. Gross. All this to say... in exactly one week I will be somewhere over the Atlantic, en route to Shannon airport.
So far I have packed one (1) suitcase, dumped a bunch of clothes in another and I've contemplated a box. I am not a good packer, but I'm getting there. I can't really figure out what all to bring... I know I'll end up with way too much stuff, I always do. I have too many books and too many clothes and shoes and pictures and odds and ends that I just don't want to leave behind. I'm just going to have to get over that.
This summer seems to have gone on far too long but at the same time, I feel like I blinked and now it's over.
Tomorrow is my last day at the zoo, hopefully for.. well, ever. I hope next summer I can do something a little more meaningful than sell crap to people, but who knows what next summer will bring. My boss said she's baking me cupcakes. Very exciting.
ETA: Dang, I blogged a lot in February. Have no fear, dear readers for my new location shall (hopefully) bring many new stories and whatnot.
That's right, guys, you heard me! No need to look any further because guess what! I'VE FOUND WALDO!
Today at work, I was at my register finishing a cash transaction. My drawer opened and, lo and behold, there was Waldo in all his red-and-white-striped glory! I was so excited that I just shoved the woman her change and receipt and examined my tray-sure. On the back was a poemy rhymey thing that said "When you find me, here's what you do: find a cool spot and hide me somewhere new! Enrichment is fun for animals at the zoo, why not for interpreters, staff, volunteers and YOU!"
Hiding things and scavenger hunts are some of my favorite things to do, so this little Waldo was like a gift from heaven. Or.. some other zoo worker. Conveniently, it was time for my lunch break, so Tessa and I went to go check on the Oomingmaks and hide Waldo. We initially wanted to put him somewhere near the Oomies on account of them being my favorite, but there wasn't a good hiding place to be found. So, we went to the Polar Bear exhibit and tucked him inside a viewcase thingy.
I've been terrible at blogging this summer.
The season had an exciting start; looking back I was doing fun stuff all the time (Sasquatch, Portland, etc). Now... I work. And I hate it. Everything I do in the gift shop is undone the next week, not because of any sort of quality control, but because that is just the nature of working in a shop. You have to constantly move the same few things around to get the attention of the customer. This week we have Shark stuff on display, before then it was Lemurs and Belugas pre-Lemur. It's impossible to feel any sort of satisfaction with anything you've done when you fold 150 t-shirts at 10:30 a.m. and by 4:00 p.m. they're all in a heap on the floor in the corner. When you have to pretend to be interested in what the customer is purchasing. When you have to pretend to care that there aren't any more Beluga tumblers or plush Sloths. And the word 'plush,' holy GOD, what is wrong with calling them stuffed animals? Syllables: a gift shop has no time to dilly dally with them. My boss/coworkers are sexist, I never get to leave the store because working Strollers or getting stuff from storage is for the boys. Girls don't know how to do any "real" work so just smile at the register and take the money. Fold the shirts. Make the displays all pretty. Sort the PLUSH.
August 16th cannot come soon enough.
The answer is "yes!!!"
Also, as we all know, list making is beyond fun, so let the games begin!
Why is Proctoring fun?
- Pee man. He got up to pee after 15 minutes of starting his exam, then 45 minutes after that, with an explanation. "I drank too much water." OK. Thanks for the update, pal. 45 minutes after THAT he comes stomping down the aisle, shaking his head at himself (and probably cursing his tiny bladder). Three times in a 3 hour exam is the time to beat, ladies and gents.
- Mental breakdown man. Not even an hour into the exam he's laughing hysterically, his whole body shaking with the open mouthed silent laughter. What's so funny about "Evidence"? Or is it that you are no longer mentally sound after days of excruciating law school exams? Or were you craycray to begin with? I'm going with the last option.
- Birthday boy. The scantron sheet has a little spot for your birthday (who knows why) and one guy filled it out... I'll be sure to send you a card, number 3---.
- Pee:thirty? There's a certain point during the exam (happens to be right now, s'mattera fact) when EVERYONE has to pee like crazy, so it becomes a contest to see who can do the awkward 'my bladder is full' speedwalk to the front fastest without wetting themselves. I blame the dixie cup sized free coffees that the dining hall gives out. So easy to overindulge when you're tossing 'em back to get that full caffeine effect. And that leads me to my next item...
- Drinking dixie cup sized coffees. It's like a tea party! Pinkies out, ladies!
- Babysitting without the dirty diapers. I get to be the boss of kids who are far older and arguably more intelligent (well, maybe some of 'em...) than I am. What a power trip. I AM IN CHARGE!!!!
- ETA: The exam passwords. Sunny, Flower, London, Chowder. My perfect, soothing PNW blessing-upon-the-ears of an accent saying the word "chowder" to a roomful of temporary Bostonians cracked me up. Chowdurrr.
So, in traditional Keavy style, a to-do list.
- At least 8 pages of history paper
- PULSE paper
- Fill out release forms for Galway
- translate the next few paragraphs of Peig
- make notecards for US History
- Spend some time outside enjoying the sunshine
- Upload all of those CDs to itunes
- Create a packing list: What goes home, what gets ditched, what gets sent to Ireland (?), what gets given away
- Laundry
In other news, I saw a guy almost get arrested last night from my perfect perch of a window. Apparently Brookline cabs aren't allowed to pick up passengers in Chestnut Hill? The cop who pulled him over (unmarked cop car, btw) kept saying "you are NOT a BOSTON CAB!" In the end the cabbie tried to push it off on the kids who hailed him ("You're the one who knows the law!") and was fined a hefty $500. I don't understand the law, and I've certainly ridden in Brookline cabs before... strange indeed.
There are 4 days of classes left. Yikes.
I've figured out a way to narrow down my research topic and still write about what I want! I still have to run it by my professor, but he should be okay with it. (Last class a boy told him 'I'm going to write about Eamon De Valera.' and the prof (who has written an award winning book about the man) just nodded and asked him to expand a bit.) I'm going to write about the military development of the IRA, their tactics and strategies and just general means of getting things done, but to do it, I am going to look at the specific instance of the Soloheadbeg Ambush, which began the military revolution in 1919. Yes, that was a huge run on sentence. Whatevs.
I just signed up to proctor 6 exams at the law school. Each is at least 3 hours and I'll be paid $9/hr. So, I'll be gettin' some bank to start the summer off.
For once I feel particularly helpful here at work... a student just came in, freaking out about the 1098T form for her taxes. When everybody else stared blankly at her and "uhhhhmmmmm"ed, I was able to jump in and help her. Woo, go me. I'm not completely useless as a secretary-type!
In other news, I sort of like the way my paper is progressing. I'm writing about the link between the shift in the American Dream and the growth of the suburbs. It's a short paper, strict 1000 word limit, which I don't really like. I prefer a little room to ramble, get my thoughts out. It's probably better this way, though. More succinct.
This week is shaping up to be pretty action-packed. Essay due tomorrow, Paul Rusesabagina is giving a talk on Wednesday to which I would really like to go, I have a midterm on Friday... then all of the other things that take up time, like class, 10:02, Haley House, work... Oh well, I'd rather be busy than bored.
I can't remember if I've mentioned this here before, but I've recently been reminded of ... well, reminders.
I constantly feel like my life is going by so quickly, especially my college life. It seems like it was just yesterday when I was narrowing down my choices, deciding between Fordham and BC... Or orientation last summer... It all just seems to have gone by so quickly and here I am almost halfway done with my undergrad years.
Anyway, my point (and I suppose the point of any sort of journaling/blogging) is that I keep remembering all of these little parts of my life that I completely forgot had happened... and when I do remember them I am sort of shocked that I ever forgot about them.
For example, a discussion I had with my volunteer supervisor, Doug, at Haley House the other day instantly brought to mind a bet I made with the ceramics teacher at Open Arts Studio in my senior year of high school. The radio was playing classic rock- 95.7 or 102.5, I can't remember, but a version of The Who's 5:15 (I
think) came on, except the voice was totally wrong. I swore up and down it was Eddie Vedder doing a cover whereas Ty (the ceramics teacher) swore it was the original version by The Who. Now, anyone who knows me will agree that I will not let a situation like this lie... so I did what anyone equally obsessed with music and being right would do and emailed the radio station. I remember that three DJs emailed me back, all saying my co-worker was nuts and that I should rub my victory in his face.
Of course I didn't need telling twice.
I just saw a man peeing outside in the bushes on my way to work.
Ew.
In other news, this weekend was action packed and fun - a nice break from the crazy amounts of homework I've been doing lately.
I met a guy from Belfast at Haley House on Friday and that kind of put a downer on my morning... he was just so sad! I was chatting with him about how long he's been here, if he thought he'd go back, etc. and he said that he and his mom (he's probably just a little older than me) had come here three years ago and didn't have anything to return to. I suppose I probably should have expected something like that, but his tone of voice and the look on his face... so sad. Then he said that it wasn't really something they talked about in Ireland and I apologized for bringing it up... and he started talking about the conflict, saying it was no use for anyone to apologize anymore because it had already happened and apologizing just brought up the old feelings all over again.
The rest of my weekend was much more cheerful. We had Relay for Life on Friday night/Saturday morning... nothing too out of the ordinary happened, just a bunch of fun and exhaustion.
I got to see Katherine yesterday and we had burritos at Felipe's in Harvard Square and saw Neil Gaiman's book-turned-movie Coraline, which was amazing. And in 3D so double amazing.
One of the ladies just came into the office here at work talking about the paint she chose for her house... "Well it's called Meditative Blue... which I liked. I thought about going one step down, but that one was called Languid Blue and I thought NO WAY am I having anything LANGUID. That's such a negative word..."
I wonder what she thinks languid means?
