Countdown: 1 day to party - 2 days to graduation

As much as you love to read my writings about me, have you found yourself wishing that you could read someone else writing about me?

Good news.

Print senior graduates with experience, honors

And I only used the word awesome once, so that's...awesome.

It's 10 a.m. and I've been up for seven hours. That's right kids. SEVEN hours.

Kevin had a little situation at work that required his alarm to go off at 3 a.m. And what happens as soon as I hear an alarm go off?

"Do I have bobby pins for my cap?"
"Should I put green chilies in the bean dip?"
"Don't I need to pay bills today, too?
"Where will be the best place to snap a good photo on Sunday?"
"Should I paint my nails?"
"Should I put up SOME Christmas decorations?"

So after I tried to bargain with my brain for an hour to PLEASE let me sleep, I got up.

Bills are paid.
Beans are on.
Lists are made.

Of course I'll be in bed by 4 p.m., but whatever.

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Countdown: 2 days to party - 3 days to graduation

Today is my last day of classes at WSU.

More specifically, today is my last day of regular classes.

I have a post-graduation final on Tuesday. How absurd is that? Very. I even asked the professor if I could take it early. The answer was pretty much a "hell no."

Thanks.

During these last few weeks of school, I've spent a lot of time thinking about how I got here. It usually happens when I'm on a familiar road. I think about how many times I took Central all the way to Andover for my classes at Butler or how many times I've driven north on Oliver to get to WSU. Hundreds I bet. I think about all the different classrooms I've sat in and all the different assignments I've completed. It's overwhelming. It's all so much. The science, the English, the literature, the Spanish, the algebra, the public speaking, the writing, the reporting. I did it all.

This graduation has always seemed like something that was so far away, so abstract. And now it's so close that I'm working out what I'm going to wear underneath the gown and where to meet my friend Natalie at check-in.

I've already decided that I need to wear something with pockets, so I have a place to store a hankie. I don't see how there is any way I am going to get through this without crying.

I cried when I finished the 5K in September, and this is a slightly bigger deal. Slightly.

This is really happening.


For Kevin:

Our Internet connection was down for HOURS yesterday. Hours and hours. You might not be surprised to know that I spend a good deal of time with the interwebs each day, so I had to occupy my time another way.

I made cookies for my party, listened to much of my 6+ hour party play-list, did some laundry, straightened up the joint, etc. I had relayed all this information to Kevin during out nightly dinner-coffee-TV session. Then as we were about to go to bed I mentioned that I also cut all the loose strings from our sofa pillows. They have this loopy edge that sometimes gets unruly and I wanted to clean them up before the big bash on Saturday.

What I specifically said was, "That's what happens when the Internet goes down, pillows get hair cuts!"

Kevin thought this was dang funny and wanted to make sure that I shared it with all of you.

So there you go.

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Countdown: 3 days to party - 4 days to graduation

There have been lots of lists involved with planning my graduation party, thing to buy, things to make, things to do. I like to complain that I'm doing it all myself and that other lucky grads have these kinds of parties thrown FOR them.

But really,

Can you imagine me not being in charge of my own party?

Absolutely not.

So, I've gotten:

olives
toothpicks
cherries
pretzels
wine glasses
napkins
beans
martini glasses
coffee
swizzle sticks
creamer
etc.
etc.
etc.

But I realized today there was one small thing I had overlooked, forgotten to put on any list, forgotten to buy.

PLATES

Plates people! We almost didn't have plates!

Criminy.

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Someone's getting ready for a party, yo.

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Just say thank you and be happy

After several hours of running errands today, I was stopped at a red light at the intersection of Central and Woodlawn.

On the northeast corner of that intersection sits Beard's 66, a gas station that has been there for decades.



Pay at the pump? Hardly.

The pumps have never been updated to the newer, electronic versions.

In fact, this gas station doesn't even advertise its gas prices on the sign. People who go there aren't concerned with the price. All of the pumps are full-service all of the time.

For a few years now, I've had a little dream of pulling into that station and asking someone to "fill 'er up."

As I waited for my green light, I sat there thinking about that gas station, its sights, its smells, and I was immediately taken back to when I was about 5 years old.

My dad was a careful driver who never dared to embark on a drive with less than a quarter of a tank of gas. Getting gas was an errand all of its own, not something you do on the way to somewhere else.

Dad knew the owner/operator of the Standard station in town, and he would often take me with him to go fill up the car. Each time we went, I would get out of the car to make sure the owner saw that I was there. Because each time I was there, he would come out and bring me a treat.



One piece of Super Bubble.

But?

I secretly wished that just one time he would surprise me with a Kit Kat or a Hershey Bar.

He never did.

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