Thursday, March 09, 2006

saga of a harried grad student in her final semester of coursework

Haven't updated in a while! Sorry about that, I am up to my a-hole in the process of Romanizing Spain. Well, I mean, I'm not doing it, I'm studying it. For my super cool (to me anyway) class on propaganda in the Age of Augustus. I'm wondering if I should post something that specific, I wonder if anyone from school will find me? Oh well! Hi everyone!

My mom just tried to lecture me on taking down my blog and my myspace accounts, so that when future employers google me, they won't find me. Never mind that my name, now at least, is about as generic as can be. Even with the addition of my maiden name (now my middle name) I found something announcing the title of my thesis from 2005, and a mention on this guy I dated in high school's website. Nothing terrible. And, Mom, I'm the world's biggest dork! I have nothing to hide! Except maybe from my boss, who probably already knows how little work I do there anyway.

By the way, let's hear a funny story about my mom, shall we? Kev and I were sitting at the dinner table, discussing what we should buy my nephew for his first birthday. We decided on a Little Tykes kind of thing for the backyard at Chez crazy. I made mention of how, with so many of our neighbor's cats being outside cats, we couldn't get him the sand box. She asked what my other nephew and neice did with theirs. Mom, I say, it's a brand new McMansion development. There aren't any cats around. She simply refused to believe that. I said, no, really, no cats, just moles. She says to me, and this is where it gets weird...

Did the moles eat the cats?

What? Mom, seriously, what the fuck? Moles are approximately the size of bunnies,at most, aren't they? And full grown cats, the size of babies? Would dirty Jerz allow flesh eating rodents to exist in a community with so many kids? What the hell?

All I could think of was the rabbit from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, with the pointy teeth. Eating cats. Who shit in sandboxes. In the hinterlands of New Jersey.

So, to recap, my mom is still crazy, I am busy busy busy with a paper, and you probably won't hear from me till Monday night, after the pres is over. And Spain either bought the Roman culture with all its symbols (theaters and amphitheaters, fora and temples) wholesale, or the Romans were big bad baddies who forced it upon them. Gotta love the ancient world, there are seemingly never any answers. Lovely.

4 comments:

Teacher lady said...

You go, girl! Good luck with your harried-grad-student self! A light is at the end of the tunnel for you, my friend.

BTW - I almost laughed so hard I choked when I read your mom's question about the cats. What is it about motherhood that makes women get so goofy? My mother is also afraid of my blog getting in the hands of a former high school nemesis and in my mom's words, "What if she figures out it's you and reports you to the authorities?" Which authorities? Wha?

Art Nerd Lauren said...

Ma, for real, will it go on my PERMANENT RECORD CARD?!

Art Nerd Lauren said...

Mikey- they were do-si-does, the peanut butter ones with pb filling! I mean, they weren't Samoas, which come about eight to a box, but honestly, couldn't she have taken the crappy new shortbread ones instead?!

Teacher lady said...

There are a few things I've never understood about Girl Scout cookies:
1.) Why they insist on still making the stupid shortbread ones (Who eats those? Besides old ladies, I mean.)
2.) Why Samoas only come 8 to a box.
3.) Why they are so crazy/expensive - I know it's a fundraiser and all, but sheesh! Out here they're up to $5 a box. I'll pay that for 57 Thin Mints, but not for 8 Samoas (which unfortunately, are my favorite.)
4.) Why they only come out once a year. Is it like the Pumpkin Spice Latte at Starbucks? They want to keep it "special?"