My thoughts on this are "TGIF."

Well, my last-ever winter break is almost over, but I wouldn't say that I'm mourning its passing. Perhaps I should be, being that this is quite likely my last winter break of all time - barring certain career choices - but: I am not. Don't mistake this oddly-worded intro as complaining, since I enjoyed my break. It just didn't feel like a break, what with the teaching and the work at the key office and the true beginning of the Job Hunt and other assorted schtuff that I was doing. Admittedly, I'm a little relieved that the semester's starting; the workload will be intense, but I'll have fewer formal constraints on my time: cha-ching. I get less stressed when I feel (rightly or not) that I have ample time to get everything done.

In good news (though many of you have found this out through some of my other online social networking/microblogging avenues), I have a job interview on Monday. A real interview, for a job I'm totally excited about. I'm trying not to psych myself out, and I'm trying to prevent myself from fantasizing about My Awesome New Life, Made Possible By This Awesome New Job (A Life That Features Granite Countertops And Stainless Appliances & Sundry Other Comforts). But, my self-discipline is only so great! Those countertops have never seemed closer! Wish me luck!

***

In kind of a strange mood this morning. I'm chalking it up to the weather, to my scant sleep this week. Seasonal Affective Disorder? I'm not sure that these chalkings are correct, but they'll do.

For which I am grateful.

All of these good things happened today:

1) Eric made a successful (and delicious) frittata for breakfast. (Note: the frittata I tried to make a few days ago ended up as more of a "scrambler," due to the fact that I tried flipping it before the bottom had set. I would have preferred cooking the top in the broiler, but I have no ovenproof skillet. Yes. But, Eric's patience, coupled with my sub par flipping skills - a bit of the 'tata ended up on the counter - yielded an excellent second attempt.)

2) Second day of teaching went well, despite my being flustered for the first few minutes of class. (Copier mishap: don't ask.)

3) The campus bookstore was having a major after-Xmas clearance, so I got a book of short stories by Alice Munro AND a Laffy Taffy for $5. Holla!

4) My dermatologist concluded that the tiny bump on my neck is not, as previously thought, skin cancer.

5) Netflix arrived. Two discs of "How I Met Your Mother," season two. No work shall henceforth be done.

I am freaking out in my brain.

Though I did, several posts ago, poo-pooh NYResolutions, what I didn't realize is that I'd soon be fulfilling a sort of constant, un [or under-] stated resolution of mine: catching up on the last ten years' worth of movies. It is no secret that I am painfully, woefully - almost unbelievably - behind the times when it comes to movies. Case in point: Saturday, E and I went to Blockbuster, so anxious were we to begin season two of "How I Met Your Mother" that we could not wait for Netflix! Of course, season two was completely checked out, so we scooted to the comedy section. I casually remarked that I'd never seen "American Pie," and Eric stopped cold. A woman in the next aisle over stopped cold. I stopped cold.
"Are you serious?" He asked, though he knew I was.
"Well," I said, in a paltry gesture of self-defense, "I figured that I'd heard all the jokes from it, so why should I actually see it?" But, even I was not convinced by this lame explanation.
Mid-length story short, I finally watched "American Pie." And you know what? It wasn't bad. Yes, I'd heard the jokes before, integral to our pop-cultural fabric as they are, but the storyline was also kind of cute. AND, for the first time in a long, long time, I actually remembered high school: the gossip, the absolute horror at bodily malfunctions (of self, of others), my [admittedly brave] choice of asking a totally random dude to prom - and then going with him, and then not dancing the entire time. Prom: O.M.G. What an ordeal. I don't think I've ever seen so many girls crying in a public bathroom.

Also in fulfillment of this unstated yet critical resolution was my viewing of "Anchorman," which I also [surprisingly] enjoyed. What's going on, here? Why am I enjoying these movies which I would previously have sniffed at? There's been a major shift in my sense of humor. Scratch that: in my public sense of humor.

Right now, I am minorly freaking out in my brain. In approximately two hours, I'll be teaching my first winter creative writing course and I am terrified. What's new? you may think (those of you acquainted with my terror). And the answer is, not too much, except the intensity of said terror. Aaaaaaaaaah(!)

Tidbits

It's finally winter: the season of Netflix. This weekend, we had two huge snowstorms - school was actually canceled on Friday, the last day of finals. We stayed inside, ordered Chinese food, watched "The Dark Knight." Having seen it, I can't say I feel too bad about having waited this long...meh. Overhyped, in my opinion. BUT: back to Netflix: I need to update my queue because all that's on it at the moment is "How I Met Your Mother" (as many discs as allowed) and "Who Killed John Lennon?" And I might delete the latter. Movie suggestions, anyone?

Ali and I went skiing yesterday, despite the horrible road conditions and subsequently ueberdangerous drive(s) to & from the hill. It's strange: I love skiing, although I'm inexperienced [read: not too good] at it. This affinity for the snow sport defies my usual behavior pattern of hating & scorning things I'm not good at - for example, basketball, public speaking, singing, dancing, and so on. In most cases, I fervently avoid activities for which my skills are underdeveloped. Don't we all? But skiing: skiing is a horse of another color. I'd really like to be good at it, and the only way for me to get better is to practice, despite looking like an ass whilst practicing. But good news: I did not fall once while disembarking a chairlift yesterday. Jawesome.

Well, A. & I found out the hard way that our landlord is less than fastidious about having the parking lot/alley plowed. Last night and this morning, I got stuck trying to enter/exit the parking lot because there is so freaking much accumulation. True, Toyotas don't handle exceptionally well in the snow, but there are at least eight or nine inches of snow in the alleyway. And that is bullshit.

Indeed, it is that point in the semester where it's all I can do to prevent myself from constantly obsessing about the impending winter recess. The days are getting shorter, the air is ass-cold, the workload gets heavier by the hour. Yeah. I'm staying in Western MA for winter break, and I'm not predicting that this stretch of time will be, in and of itself, awesome. What will be awesome is the cessation of most formal duties. Amen! Already, I'm planning little projects for myself: some knitting, some crafting of Xmas tree ornaments (from felt). Some other stuff? I recently found a recipe for phyllo dough Apple turnovers that I'd really like to try, and come to think of it, I'll probably do that this weekend, not this December.

This upcoming recess is my potentially last winter break ever. I say potentially because, from time to time, I toy with the idea of applying to various other advanced degree programs, once I get the heck out of here. In the event that I enroll in another program, the cycle of academic holidays will reinstate itself. But for now, work in the real world looms on the horizon: a real world without winter break.

Right now I'm reading Oliver Sacks' "An Anthropologist on Mars." I'm a big fan of Sacks not only because of my fondness for "pop" psychology (& related areas), but because of his approach to writing about neurological disorders: rather than focusing on the negative aspects of the disorders he studies - which would be easy to do, given the symptoms of some of them - he writes about what new abilities (creative, perceptual) these neurological changes engender in his patients. Of course, Sacks doesn't deny the real pain these diseases cause his patients, and fairly portrays the hardships his patients must endure en route to recovery; but that he can find positives at all in brain trauma is admirable.

Beyond tonight, weekend plans are nebulous. I'm stuck on this turnover idea, though: so maybe the pastries will materialize.