mrs-roboto's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chaotic For the longest time, life seemed to be moving at a snails pace. I painstakingly filled out applications, spent eons writing personal statements, left message after message for potential references ("oh please say something nice about me, please....."). I mailed out pertinent documents and then spent day after day wondering if they had reached their destinations and when or if I'd hear back. I'd go out for drinks with friends and lament about how I was still waiting, how I was always waiting. And then one night I came home from work and found what I'd been hoping for. Acceptance! Mission accomplished. Time to switch gears. Now there aren't enough hours in a day. It's full speed ahead. I made a promise to myself to have "the best time ever" before classes start in August. The logistics of making this happen are taxing. I think I've psychologically misinterpreted my own intentions. I've filled every spare moment of every day with "fun, fun, fun." I'm either hiking or biking or swimming or having drinks with friends or planning a camping trip or hosting a barbecue or kayaking or something. And all of this is really, really great but also totally exhausting. It's almost as if I have been given two months to live and I'm trying to fulfill my every dream before I drop. But graduate school is not a death sentence by any means. It's what I really and truly wanted for a long time and I'm lucky to have gotten it. And everything else in my life isn't going to disappear because I have this one thing. Sure, I'll need to budget my time a little better but I should still be able to have it all if I do this right? Right? Speaking of having it all, this weekend I barbecued, hiked, camped, biked, saw a fine documentary at SIFF, and spent quality time with friends. Friday, Judy and Jiri came over (AKA walked across the yard) and we grilled up some delicious Copper River Salmon and made a tasty salad and drank wine in the warm evening air. At some point, food was left unattended and became the property of the dogs. It was Judy and Jiri's pup Lou who actually had the moxie to grab the goodies from on top of the picnic table but my Des, being the bigger beast, assaulted him shortly thereafter and made off with the booty. Both suspects attempted to flee on foot but were apprehended a short time afterwards. The victims property was recovered but it was so soggy with dog slobber that it was nolonger desirable to anyone but the mangey mutts. Bastids! Saturday morning we embarked on an overnight hike-in camp trip to Rachel Lake (also with Judy and Jiri because we are attached at the hip). We were all very excited to see this new terrain until we realized that we had actually done this hike in November of 2004. It's so hard to tell with the guide book descriptions. They all describe lush rainforest greenery, gently flowing streams, powerful waterfalls, scenic viewpoints and at the very end, a sparkling Alpine lake. Damn Northwest with it's stupid nature stuff. The only way I could tell one from another would be if they named them after actors and had different musicals being performed at the end of each trail. "Oh come on guys, lets go check out the Bernadette Peters trail! All the critics are raving about Gypsy!" But repeating the trail wasn't so bad. When we had been there in November, it had looked entirely different. There was snow and ice at the higher elevations and the lake was frozen over. This time around it was warm and green and the water was flowing. We arrived midday, napped, then set up camp. Judy and Jiri went on a second hike. Pete fished and I read a book in the sun. The dogs did what dogs do in the wild - run about like animals till they fall over from exhaustion. Good friggin thing they had all that extra $20.00 a pound salmon on Friday to fuel them. We had an early dinner and I hit my sleeping bag before the sun went down. I awoke in the middle of the night to a sky bursting with stars but then promptly fell back to sleep. My mother likes to tell a story about a family drive through Vermont in the Autumn. I was three and had been napping in the back seat with the dog. "Oh sweetie," she cooed, "Wake up and look at the pretty leaves! Those reds and yellows! Beautiful, no?" I sat up, looked around, and said "Seen one leaf, seen them all" and promptly passed back out. "That's my Brooklyn Baby," mom muses. The morning greeted us with a fog so thick it had soaked the exterior of the tents. You couldn't see more than a few feet ahead of you. I snuck out of my abode where Pete was still catching zzz's and climbed in with Judy and Jiri to prepare a spot of java. We tried to wait out the sun but grew impatient and packed up for an early departure. Ten minutes into our descent it grew bright and warm. Isn't that always the way? We made it back to Seattle in the afternoon and celebrated with a nap, followed by bad tv, and take out Thai. Oh papaya salad you are so damn tasty. If I weren't already spoken for we might be able to get something going. Well there was more to this fine Memorial Day Weekend but it will have to wait for another entry. Britney and Kevin await..... 8:46 p.m. - 2005-05-31 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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