haha. Okay, I suppose I could talk about how school is going...
Well. It's going well.
I have a prehistoric life class and there's a lady in the class who brings her dog in a purse and it's the cutest little thing! The littlest and cuddliest and I want to stroke it's huge ears and make it wear blinged out hoodies! awwww. And I have to take a field trip to a Dinosaur Museum! Fun-zo!
Also, my Creative Writing prof. is a huge-o hippie. Right out of the flower power era, for sure. Should be fun, but possibly exhausting at the same time. And I think i'm gonna kick butt in that class, seeing as I like to be all write-y and stuff. (See? It's already seeping from me like ketchup from a packet.)
My Editing prof is named Marj which is super fun and also she's on a cruise this week. Lucky her. I think that it's gonna be a fun class. Also, we're taking a field trip to Adobe sometime! I'll see Sean and show off my handsome hub to the class cuz i'm awesome. Correction, we're awesome.
Brit Lit. is alright. I'm learning stuff and it's interesting. I can't wait to read Charles Dickens, though!! awesome. he's awesome.
I hate the winter. When it's too cold to step outside in anything less than 3 to 7 shirts, a large winter coat, both leggings and jeans, thick socks, and heavy boots, I only ever want to stay inside and cuddle. But, to be honest, that's all I really ever want to do. I can't wait until the day I can slip back into my shorts and tee shirts and strut around the park with a kite string in my hand and the warm breeze keeping my cheap, plastic aircraft afloat. I'll probably get a dog so we can walk around and toss a frisbee without worrying about frostbite or losing the little pup in the mounds of powdery white.
If you can't tell, I'm feeling a little... what's the word... creatively wordy I'm sure that's not right, but it's night and I'm tired of searching. I figured it out. loquacious. duh. Anyway, I'm in a creative writing class and I keep coming up with fantastic ideas and then I can't express them just right. I'll keep working on it and report back eventually. I am, however, proud of my poem entitled Chaos, which is a jumble of synonyms and antonyms of Chaos in a chaotic manner (askew, oddly spaced, chopped up, etc.). I think I might even get a check plus for it. Please, hold your applause.
If I have something really great, I will most certainly share it with my loyal and obviously intrigued readers. But, until I have something substantial that wouldn't require me re-formatting anything, then i'm just going to leave you hanging.
So it's late and, as you might have guessed, I am tired. I kept waking up for no real reason last night and I just want to crawl into bed and be wrapped in soft blankets and Sean's Minnesota-Warm (is that a thing?) arms and drift softly to a dreamland where I don't get pregnant or have to encounter past acquaintances (good or not-so-good) and figure out which one is my real husband or have to wait in line for hours to get a mandatory elbow surgery where you get an anesthesia shot, go into the operating room, come out 3 minutes later with stitches on your wrist area and Oprah is there and it's dark outside and you see a guy from your French class last semester and somehow find a scrapbook of his past and learn that he was once a midget but know that that isn't true because he is normal sized now and you can't just change from midget-dom to average height... dom (true story, happened last night).
but alas, Sean is still blogging about that one time he got hit in the face with an icicle whilst trying to fix our tv satellite. he's fine.
love, Ellen.
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