Sunday Shining

I can't remember how this song came into my playlist, probably thanks to early morning VH1 videos back when I had insomnia and they actually played music. In any case, I think of it sometimes, and very creatively, on Sunday. However, I'm not feeling very shiny. Work has been extraordinarily draining (think 14 hour days for going on three weeks), which wouldn't be so bad if I were fairly compensated, but, frankly, I'm just not. Thanks awesome economy. But, it's feeling fall-like outside, my house is relatively clean, the OK state fair is on (Hello fried mashed potatoes on a stick! I'm coming for you.) and I get paid on Thursday. Could be worse, right? RIGHT?



Finley Quaye - Sunday Shining
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Sometimes, I think*

that acquaintances, coworkers, friends and family in the OK would understand me a lot better (not that anyone wants to) if they had a better grasp on just what it means to have attended Smith College. Not that it's some high falutin' ivory tower full of monied ladies with brains and that I'm a brilliant feminist, but that it's a shitshow. A SHITSHOW PEOPLE. I say that in the nicest way possible. Moving from one of the most liberal places in OK to Noho is like [insert outrageously opposite analogy here]. Examples include:

• Ladies who are dudes at a women's college.
• Friday afternoon tea service in your residence.
• Opening your dorm room door to naked cartwheel night.
• Showing porn in a college owned auditorium (I showed up for what I thought was an independent film, but at least now I can say I've seen The Opening of Misty Beethoven on the big screen).
• And so many other things I'll never know about since I spent half of my four years there at Dartmouth (oops).

In any case, someone's doing a good job of reminding me of why I'm so screwed up over at Smith'd a blog by Smithies about Smithies. Thanks!





*rarely, though. Don't worry.

Dear boyfriend,

please stop trying to perfect your cookie cake recipe (pretty much daily). When you cut your latest creation into a perfect shape, someone has to eat the crispy reject edges, and that person is me. Then I have to drink milk, which is gross, but a requirement of chocolate chip cookie consumption - I don't make the rules. None of these things are good for me. Desist dude.