One-Armed Paper Hanger

Right now I could kill somebody. No, maybe not somebody. In light of yesterday's masked gunman shooting at UT event, perhaps I'll refrain from that level of hyperbole. Actually, now that I think about it, I would officially like to retract the entire pith of that comment. I am not angry. I am a little frustrated that I just wrote a nice long newsy post and then lost it all in a fickle moment of computery madness (ARGH!!), but this too shall pass. I am a little stressed out at having to re-do 3 weeks of writing I lost when my hard drive died, and at having to do all this wedding planning stuff essentially on my own, as Handsome is neck-deep in GMAT studying, which, for the record, I am totally on board with. Study study study, I say, so that we have the best possible chance of staying in Austin for his MBA. And finding out yesterday that, due to some bureaucratic snafu, I am not technically employed by the University of Texas, which explains why my health insurance was abruptly terminated, why I had to pay 4x as much tuition as normal, why I haven't gotten any of said tuition reimbursed, and why I won't get paid on the first of the month without jumping through some ludicrous hoops. This was stressful. But I am not angry.

I am busy, yes. Between my internship at the Worker's Defense Project, my TAship at UT, writing a dissertation, planning a wedding (!!), taking piano lessons, cleaning the house, and all the other odds and ends that make up life, I feel, in the words of my excellent Granddad, like a one-armed paper hanger.

But life is good.  The summer heat has broken, and I've been delving into cool breezes, blue skies, and sweaters!! I've got a fridge full of good food, a man who loves me, a rockin' family, and amazing friends. So in spite of where I started this extremely stream-of-consciousness post, I would like to state for the record that I am one lucky, lucky woman, and I would like to give the world a hug.

Wow. Just... wow.

So I had about a gajillion posts all planned out, lo these 10 days ago. I was planning to do a special post to show off my surprise (see the parents coming to visit post if you're scratching your head) new skill. I was planning to do a post on creating a bridal registries, a theme I promise to revisit.

But then my hard drive crashed on my laptop. I lost about 3 weeks of work on my dissertation, and not because I didn't back it up. I totally backed it up. But the file was corrupted when I retrieved it from my external hard drive. Thanks, External Hard Drive! Still, no biggie, because in exchange for losing 3 weeks of (who are we kidding) slightly crappy work, I got a new free computer! Well, almost new, and almost free, which as far as I'm concerned is good enough.

Apple called it an equipment malfunction, so even though it was 3 years old, they just gave me a new hard drive for free. Whammo! And then they noticed that my plastic wrist board and keyboards were cracked and crunked up, and hey! That's an equipment malfunction, too! Whammo! New clothes for my laptop, free! So now I'm sure there's some inner workings that are still 3 years old. The battery, I think, and is there something called a motherboard? Maybe yes? I don't know what it is, but it's the only other computer word I know, so we'll call it that. Then I shelled out $170 for the new Snow Leopard X operating system, and hello, Nancy. This sucker is FANCY. Guess what, world, I can open docX now!

So I've spent the last week reconfiguring my programs, reloading documents and photos and music and putting them back in albums, and (this part actually was a total bummer) re-doing my entire calendar, which I keep on iCal, and was gone, baby, gone. Thank God I've got elephant genes and remember almost everything. Except, you know, for the things I forget. So if we were supposed to have lunch yesterday and I mysteriously didn't show up, now you know why.

Denmark. Just South of Buenos Aires.

Last night as Handsome and I were snuggling before bedtime, the topic of baby names came up, and how, because his first name is his great-grandmother's last name, his name is all last names. And whoa, because I never use (and might drop entirely) my first name, my name is all last names, too! So we were saying it would be funny if we had any kids and gave them all family surnames as well, and we could be a whole family with no first names. I know, what a riot, right? So then this happened:

"Handsome, what was your grandmother's maiden name?"
"Ingdahl."
"Ingdahl?"
"Yes, it's Danish. Like Raúl Dahl."

(silence)

"Honey, did you just say Raúl Dahl?"
"Yeah, you know, the famous kids' book writer?"
"You mean Roald Dahl?"

(silence. Actually, not silence at all, because I was cackling like a banshee, but Handsome wasn't talking.)

"Roald?"
"Yes, Roald. Not Raúl. Heee hee hee, hooo hoo hoo, ha haa haaaaa! Raúl Dahl, the famous Danish kids' book writer! Haa haa ha!!! You're such a dumbo!!"

"Actually, Cheasty, I'm pretty sure it's Raúl Dahl. You remember. He wrote that famous book, James and the Giant Horchata."

I almost fell out of the bed I was laughing so hard. That, ladies and gentlemen, is why I love this man.

Animalitos Espiritítus

There are, at this very second in time, about fifty ga-jiggity-jillion things running through my mind, all of which I'd like to write about. I'd like to tell you about the most amazing parents-meet-parents weekend of all time, ever in recorded history, in which my parents and Handsome's parents fell smack-dab in love with each other. I'd like to get your opinion on wedding colors, because having decided to marry a redhead with skin fairer than fair has put me in something of a pickle. Farewell, reds and oranges. Goodbye, yellow. Sayonara, blush and bashful. Also, I wish I could recreate for you the most ridiculous phone conversation in the world, the one I just had this afternoon with a shop owner when I called to inquire if I had perhaps left my credit card in his store, but I've decided that no matter how sharp my pen, or how razor-fine my wit, it is a task beyond my abilities. But none of these are going to happen today. Either a) I don't have the time to write it all down, or b) I haven't loaded up the pictures yet, or c) I'm lazy. You choose.

So this is what's on my mind. Spirit animals. It's amazing to me how some people just have them. You meet them once, get a gander at their face or their personality, and that's it, pow. You know what their spirit animal is. Like Handsome's mother, for example. A hummingbird, no doubt about it. Tiny, quick, talkative, loves bright colors, flits from thought to thought and topic to topic, but always comes back around to where she started. A hummingbird.

Or my Superdad. A beaver. Hard-working, strong, a man of the woods and the water. Makes for himself a strong home wherever he goes, loves to build dams. (Seriously, the man is obsessed.) If Superdad were a cartoon, he'd be a cozy old beaver, snug in his house in the dam, sitting with the newspaper and some reading spectacles by the fire, puffing away on his pipe.

My friend, the Samurai Warrior, a cat. My mother, a magpie. Can you tell I spend a lot of time thinking about this? I do. Quite a bit. Which is why it's so frustrating to me that I haven't the slightest clue what my own spirit animal would be. A long time ago, I thought maybe I was a tortoise. Once, a friend told me I was a terrier. Another time, somebody wondered if I were a cormorant. Cormorant? I don't even know what those do.

Anyway, I'm putting my mind to it. My new resolution to myself: find spirit animal.

Guess Who's Coming to Austin

In light of the fact that Umulu just bought her first house (exciting!!) and I just got engaged to Handsome, Superdad, Captain Mommypants, and my little adorable wonderful brother Bug are coming to town for the Labor Day weekend. There will be trips to Lowes, viewings of potential wedding venues, a trip out to Handsome's home town so the parents can meet each other and practice being in-laws. We will laugh and hug and be happy to see one another, and I will surprise my parents with a special something I haven't told them about yet, but it will make them very happy.

Hooray!

Childhood Picture. Category: Awesome.

This just in from Superdad.

That's me when I was 9 or 10.

"The name's Cool. Joe Cool."

Now I have but one burning question. Did my parents actually let me go out of the house like this? Cause if they, did, then double awesome.