Bettie Bookish

Vocation, schmocation

No, I am not up here making cider and knitting shawls from babysoft a!paca fleece, as my friend Beppe has asserted. And we are all safe and sound. Mostly I've been working a lot, trying to cobble together half a living from several different sources.

Also, apparently the last post I wrote was tagged as a draft, so it never got online.

I'll make it up to you, baby. I promise.

In the meantime, here are a few of the things I've been doing instead of blogging:

Writing Web site copy for businesses that sell things like industr!al e!ectrical systems or manufactur3d homes.

Watching "House."

Writing marketing case studies.

Being an !thaca Mom.

Registering for school.

Experiencing highly stressful teen problems.

Taking my academic adviser's advice and thinking about why I'm majoring in marketing, and what I might want to study were I to attend graduate school.

Realizing that I would have ZERO interest in studying marketing or anything like it in graduate school.

Finding this program.

Thinking I need to exercise more.

Vowing not to sit down every night and snack until I fall into a sleepy, salt-and-chocolate-induced coma.

Breaking that vow. Because, salt? Chocolate? Are you kidding me?

Thinking about blogging without actually, you know, doing it.

Matriculated

Remember last fall when I was accepted into college? Well between becoming a mommy again and, well, trying to sleep a couple hours at least once a week, I put off enrolling until now.

But now I'm all official - with a student ID card and all.

I would post a copy of the ID here, but my scanner doesn't work. Sorry. Also, I don't want to reveal the name of the school because I don't want you to stalk me on the cybercampus.

My classes this fall include a science class on epic migrations, a class on the modern Middle East and a class on regional history. I also have to take a no-credit class on the technology I'll be using to interact with the class. Distance learning, yo.

I'm excited. Nervous. Did I already say excited?

Night-night, Juice

One day, Posey was talking in her normal fashion. Duce (juice). Doos (shoes). Mama (mama). And so on.

Then she just started putting sentences together. Ant duce (want juice). No Mama. Go!

And as I listen to her, I wonder what it would be like to wake up one morning and realize I could spontaneously speak Portugese.