Hello old friend.

Wow, if this blog was a person, it would be pissed that I didn't call and worry that I had joined a cult or something. Wait...that doesn't make much sense, but you get it. Do you?

Anyway, I've been a little lax on the blogging because I've been really busy. I also fail at thinking of a more interesting way to put that. The week before Spring Break I was up to my corneas in my paper on East Central European identities, which turned out alright I think. The footnotes and such added to the length, and so did the block quotes. I've always liked writing papers with footnotes, they feel so scholarly. Like it doesn't matter what kind of bullshit I'm spitting out onto my blank document, as long as there's a footnote it's fucking insightful. Seriously, I'm getting warm fuzzies just thinking about it and looking at that picture of the footnote prompt.

So once I stopped all that, I went home and after making some minor adjustments to my suitcase I was on a plane to Miami with the mother for the week. We had a day of total air travel hell. The plane was delayed five times without warning, when other planes were taking off just fine. Then we had to wait on the tarmac for an hour and everyone was tired and cranky. Some lady in front of us took the overhead space of some guy further up, and he confronted her about it. I'm wicked uncomfortable with confrontation, but when his last words to her were "I bet you have foot fungus" I could have passed out from trying not to laugh. Seriously, third grade insults are the bestest.

Once we got to Miami, everything was good except for a few spats brought on by too much togetherness and my mother's contradicting desires to feed me and to tell me to lose weight. But we did bond a lot over the week. We went shopping, went to the spa, ate together every night, and talked a whole lot. Now that we're both single we can even check out men on the beach together. But we'll never go clubbing together. That's just creepy. PS Miami does not look like that picture. Although the whole time I was here I felt a Herculean urge to start singing that Will Smith song, and I felt I could tell who the locals were based on who had the most tattoos and fakest hair. So maybe some of my preconceptions were accurate? Who knows.

Either way, I have to go back up north tomorrow, and even further north on Sunday. School calls, and I have to answer with a 5-10 page paper on various perspectives on the emotion of disgust. But for now, I'm making the most of this complimentary hotel bathrobe and trying not to think about school. That paper will get at least partially done on the plane tomorrow. I promise not to buy any tabloids at the airport. Or get lost in the Skymall catalog. That shit is a black hole of awesome things I don't need yet can't live without. Like this gem I'll leave you with:












Peace, Love, and Semicolons,
Lisa