This Time the Light's at the Beginning

I don't want to jinx myself, but I've got a really good feeling about this semester. I have an apartment I love that I don't have to move from for another 18 months, I am teaching a class I love to teach, my classes are both very very demanding and incredibly interesting, giving me the focus and challenge I need, I'm reconnecting with friends I thought were lost, and I'm crazy in love.

Oh, also I'm probably getting a cat, which I've wanted for years. And I have a sweet side job. And I'm going to see the Marauders in like 6 weeks. And I have a standing mixer. And about 13 more new episodes of Lost on the way.

It's not a bad setup. I'll definitely take it. The last few month have been rough, but suddenly...I feel much brighter about the future.* Even if that glow fades, it's still a nice way to reenter my life.

My life. This is my life now. And you know...I'm pretty happy about that.




* - Except for my incomplete in Caroline's class. Whenever I think about it, it's like a dark cloud over my happy singing world, like in that one really old Disney cartoon. I should probably take care of that before I ruin my career over it, huh?

...whatever. My life is still none too shabby - threatening unfinished paper on abolitionist poetry and all.

Kitchen Things

So as anyone who knows me can attest, if there's one thing I am not, as a rule, it's a perfectionist. I like things to get done, but I'm not fussed if they're not finished in the finest possible form they could be. For me, the pleasure is in finishing on time, not taking as long as needed to finish immaculately.

Except with baking, for some reason. I was reminded of this anomaly today, while trying to bake a cake to welcome Andy home. I mixed with painstaking slowness, making sure everything was perfect. I measured the baking soda 3 times, for goodness sake. But when I went to pour the batter into pans, I discovered that my mixer wasn't properly calibrated, and that a bunch of butter/sugar hadn't been beaten in. Despite my efforts to fix it, the cakes came out dense, overdone at the edges and just generally Not Great.

So I made them again. From scratch. And this time (I suspect due to my incredibly awful oven) they cooked OK, but mounded up terribly. And I'm fighting the urge to make them AGAIN, even though it's already 10:30.

Why am I so demanding about my baking? It's not just cakes, it's everything. And it's weird. I'll pass in a paper that's only meh, something that affects my career potentially, but I won't serve slightly overdone cake to my own boyfriend. It's like my domestic gene is working overtime to compensate for the Lost Years.

Welcome Back to Wisconsin!

It's 1.4 degrees and mockingly sunny as well. With a blizzard warning for tomorrow.

Ahhh...Hotels

There's something so nice about having a hotel room to yourself, just for one night. It's so fluffy, so arranged, so mine to do whatever I want with. Tonight, that is mostly lying in bed and watching "School of Rock," before falling asleep. But...it's just nice, the ability to drive for 13 hours to a place where you have no connections and then check in to a cozy room - and I don't even have to make the bed!

Madison tomorrow! Here's hoping my apartment didn't burn down or something equally horrible.