Internet Destroyer

My wife is lying on the floor, despondent. She had just finished typing up a long, very verbose post, and went to try out the spell check feature. Somehow, I'm guessing because she was using Hello to post pictures, she ended up in the evil Internet Explorer browser. The spell check brought up a "we blocked a pop-up error" and when she clicked to allow pop-ups, IE decided to refresh the page... without all of her text. Gone. All of it. As any other bloggers will know, having all your heart-felt musings disappear into the mists of cyberspace...

That's why we use Firefox. It's free, give it a try. You'll be glad you did (and you won't be susceptible to all the IE security holes).

But anyway, enough proselytizing. I volunteered to attempt to recreate my wife's post. So here goes:

I was writing a paper all day. And I turned in a beast of a stack of work, including a 13 page paper. Next month I have the same professor, and I'm already getting nervous. The professor that I currently have, that I enjoy muchly, that stimulates me to go home from class and read my text voluntarily, is going back to Nebraska. His name is Wes Wingett - that's "Win-Jet". He conducted class with a great amount of energy, which was contagious. I know that everyone will notice the contrast of their professor of the month with that of Wes' magical style. My feet are in the doggy drool pile. Are you saying that? You can.

Before losing this post, I had begun writing with, um, something about the excitement about the creative things I'll be doing this week, like scrapbooking with my sister-in-law, embellishing silverware with my aunt-in-law, visiting a sheep farm with my mother-in-law, and visiting the Potters' Shed Thanksgiving Open House.

What was I saying toward the bottom? What else do you remember from the post you were looking at over my shoulder? (Not much) Say something about the big stack of paper I had from my professor after four sessions, 3 1/2 inches of paper to read (see picture below). Next month, I will take the second part of this class - Advanced Adlerian Approaches II - with the professor that I wrote today's paper for and did a beast of a stack of work. That class is also on Mondays. In January, I will have Research Prinicpals, also on Mondays. Then I will be whining - online - about my... something about my icky, terrifying 20 page research paper in the dead of winter.

Next paragraph.

I am still hopeful about my Dr. Phil experiment that would permit my husband (that's me) and I to meet both him and his wife. My professor Wes Wingett and I agreed that Dr. Phil utilizes many Adlerian principals (without crediting them to Adler). I also learned that I am a fifth generation Adlerian. What does that mean? I don't know yet. I think it means... that I will go to Tuscon, AZ, in May or June of 2005 to gather with fellow Adlerian intellectuals, 2 and 3 times my age, and two friends that are close to my age - at this point, I might attempt to experience my first, and probably second, third, and fourth, nights of sleeping in a bed without my cuddlepuppy. I mean, my husband. By myself, while sharing a room with two female Adlerian friends (the young ones).

Sayonara and Ciao, Happy Turkey Day (unless I post again before that, which I might, because my paper is done, and the other option is to clean the house because it's a little dirty).

I finished this class...but I have yet to do the reading, and do my homework 

Another Busterism 

Sneaky corgi

Well, I was upstairs at the computer working on another paper- they never end. I heard some paper tearing sounds, and thought, Gosh, we buy you fun things to chew- and you prefer our stuff. This picture is what I found later. Well, I laid it out nicely to show the sophistication of my dog's ripping abilities. I was not happy. How did he even find this money?! I think he pick-pocketed my knitting backpack- or else he got up on the dining room table. Either one is a bad sin. Naughty, naughty Buster of a dog. He sure knows how to assert himself in back-handed ways.

buster shredder 

Reiterative babble? aka as Integrated paper

If you've ever tried to write an "integrative paper" you'll understand what I mean. You already know how it feels to sit, eyes glazy, with blank stares at the computer screen. For hours, and hours...on end. That is what integrative paper means to me. I mean, I had the experiences, I did the time, do I really have to write about it again?

Currently, I am in the menacing troes of paper-writing turmoil. Well, it isn't that bad, now that I took the time during watching Friday's Dr. Phil about overspenders for a second time while organizing my notes and thoughts for this task. I have since then embraced the freedom/curse of writing a paper for which I know little of its grading criteria, nor do I have an expectation for its length. Thus, I have begun my integrated art therapy directed study paper. This is the final element in my goal of attaining an art therapy specialization. When I complete it, I can say in all honesty that I took the Bob Bartholow approach to life. I will have taken a whack.

At this point it is not about perfection- it is about completion. Also in all honesty I contemplated out loud to my husband what it would mean if I just didn't do this paper. He said it would look bad on my resume, to which I replied- no one would know- I'm not going to walk into a session with a client and say, "Guess what- I didn't actually fulfill all the requirements of the Alfred Adler Graduate School Art Therapy Directed Study Program".

But just between me and you- the paper's half done. And when I start something, I do finish it. Especially when it relates to academia. I figure, if I spent even a moment of my time, an ounce of my energy while enrolled in any class, that I must give it my best, and finish out my work. But it is hard, I won't lie. I already said I wrestled with writing this paper in the first place. And again, since I started it- I better go back to it- right now, wait...oh, my husband's making cookies, the chocolate butterscotch ones (one of my favorite) ... and I want to keep knitting Troyboy's sweater sleeves. They're almost done now! Just about 14 rows, 7 on each to go. But I think I'll be a good girl and go write s'more.

Vote early, vote *often*

Well, maybe just once. I woke up at 8am to go vote with my husband. We drove 3 blocks through the misty rain, and were in and out in a flash. I did think it was humorous to enter the voting place (a church) and someone had placed a voting box right inside the entry way. Was that for the people with social phobias- who need a separate place to vote away from all the other voters? Was that strategic decorating? Like, add a bowl of candy, and some lighted candles, maybe a mirror with a decorated frame-someone must of did some late night internet research, on "tips to make your voting entry more attractive and welcoming". It's got to exist right- In this Martha Stewart world...
Was that box broken- did it lose it's ability to hum like the others? Why do those boxes hum, anyway? Is it to create a welcome environment for all who do their civic duty? Or, is it to subliminally influence the selections of the voters? Maybe I'll have to do a social psych study on that phenomena.
Last night, I had the pleasure to see "I Heart Huckabees"- with the existential detectives. It was a very interesting flick. If you like to think (are the philosophical or intellectual type) or even if you don't, at the least this film provides a provocative way to look at the world.
Is everything connected? Or is everything disconnected? Is everything meaningless? Or is everything meaningful? Regardless of which side of the spectrum you would like to explore- this movie addresses both views. Warning: after watching it, you might accidentally plunge into a few hours of life analysis, or at least good discussions with other fellow movie goers.
Soon, I will be going to IKEA with my Mom, wearing my shiny red "I Voted" sticker to purchase gold wrapping paper for my role as the kindergarten props person.