On the road again

So I got back from Indianapolis about 48 hours ago, and in a little more than 12 I'll be on the way to Texas. Thank goodness I have a washer and dryer in my apartment, or clean underwear would definitely be a problem after my 2-week travel marathon. Islegavia has decided to brave the wilds of H-town with me, so I'm hoping it's a success. My family--mom with a broken arm, sister three months pregnant (and quite grumpy about it), aunt Hazel crazy as always, and Tequila the Wonderdog--who actually ATE her way out of her harness--should provide endless hours of entertainment. It will make for some good stories, at the very least.

So I turn 27 in a few days, and I'm reflecting on the fact that birthdays start to suck after around age 17. When you're little, it's as if a special holiday has been set aside just for you, complete with ice-cream cake from 31 Flavors and matching Strawberry Shortcake dinnerware. When you're older, it's just about getting older. Sure, you might get a free margarita out of the deal, and some well-meaning friend will try and get you humiliated by the waitstaff at Ruby Tuesday's, but overall the shine has definitely worn off. I'm about to round the bend to 30, the biological clock is ticking as always, and I don't feel like I've accomplished much of anything. Welcome to the self-pity-fest known as the quarterlife crisis.

Well, with a stack of things to do before I can blow out of here I guess I'd better quit reflecting and get to work. By the way, Peacegrrl's World reached a milestone last week: 7,000 hits (since I put in a counter, anyway, and I can't remember when that was). Cool. I know this blog can be terribly whiny and self-indulgent, but I hope it's at least a little entertaining, too. Thanks for reading!
-pg

Damn you, chocolatey goodness!

So I just ate a king-size Three Musketeers bar. It's divided into two little bars, so that ideally you will eat one and save the other for later. As if. Three Musketeers is not a choice candy bar, it's the one I get because it's supposedly "big on chocolate, not on fat." But that fluffy crap in the middle is SO not chocolate. All you're really getting is the outside shell, and of course the miniscule amount of real chocolate in that little half-bar isn't enough. The point is that now, having consumed the whole thing, I have both a sugar high and a mild stomach ache. Blah.

What else can I complain about? Well, I'm missing South by Southwest, a big film/music festival down in Austin this week. Who's going to be there? Oh, nobody big. Just a whole crapload of famous people and under-appreciated indie bands...and NEIL YOUNG. Piss. But it's ok--Death Cab for Cutie and Franz Ferdinand will be in Austin on March 29th. Definite possibilty for when I'm down in TX for spring break...provided islegavia is up for it. Speaking of whom, islegavia's
window is famous! Immortalized forever on urbanohio.com! Who knew.

This week I am uncharacteristically happy because I'm off to Indy for a conference this weekend. Having never explored the great midwestern cities, this is kind of exciting. Actually, I'm more excited about escaping from the sea of drunken undergrads just in time for St. Patrick's Day. Several of my favorite people are job searching this weekend. I wish them luck, but it's a major downer because I don't want them to leave. There are many "worst things" about working in higher ed, but I think one of them is the fact that there are no constants. Your student population obviously changes, but so do your coworkers. Most folks don't stick around for longer than 3-5 years. For me, so dependant on my surrogate family of colleagues, this is a major drag. And yet another factor in my ongoing inner debate about whether or not to stay out in the world or go back to TX and be with my family.

Alrighty, an hour and a half left in the office and I need to have something to show for it, so I'm out. Safe St. Patrick's Day to all...
-pg

A Phillip Seymour Hoffman love story.

Ok. I realize, as I have stated time and time again, that I am the only female alive willing to admit that I find Phillip Seymour Hoffman remotely attractive. This isn't an actor with a fan site full of screensavers and wallpaper and gushing comments. But I can't help it. I love him. And now he has an OSCAR, so back off!!!

Oh, Phillip (can I call you Phil?), when did my affections begin? Maybe it was when you played that junkie on the 1991 episode of Law and Order. Or maybe you won my heart when you tried to bring father and son together in Magnolia. In any case, State and Main and Empire Falls pretty much sealed it. Sure, they say you're chubby and unattractive, but I say you're portly and endearing. If you ever get lonely, just call the peacegrrl.

Alrighty, enough of that. Last night was the annual pg oscar party, and hilarity certainly ensued. I annoyed everyone during the montages with my endless proclamations of "I've seen that! It's good!", and was even more obnoxious when all of my oscar predictions came true. But my friends endured all of it, and seriously cheered me up after a depressing weekend. I'm so relieved that the semester is half over, and that ACPA and Spring Break are just around the corner. And that I'm only on duty on more time this month--my weekend was total hell. I am not exaggerating--I was up both nights until 4am dealing with alcohol abuse in some form (including some girl-on-girl fighting in one of the halls!), and my pager went off so many times that the battery literally died. Blah! At least it's over and I survived. It's a new week, and I vow to keep my pissiness to a minimum. Maybe I'll give up pessimism for Lent?
-pg