last week of classes

It's a jeans and t-shirt kinda week. Ya, dig? 

I'm not even all that stressed. Not stressed at all compared to this time last semester. 

I just like an excuse to be lazy. Any excuse will do.

And graduating in two and a half weeks is a great excuse. 

Did you know I'm graduating in two and a half weeks? 

TWO and A HALF WEEKS. 

spring break cannot come soon enough

Dress/sweater: Target, Flats: Payless, Belt: thrifted 

This has been a very intense week. I had a couple big assignments + a midterm due before Spring Break next week. I've been staying up late and getting up early and I am exhausted to say the least. 

My dreams about our fabulous vacation/road trip for Spring Break have been pushing me on - there is an end in sight! We are both looking forward to a week of relaxation. It is so needed. 

Fun fact: I got an article published in my school newspaper! Here is the link if you want to check it out. It's pretty cool seeing your name in print. I'm glad I submitted it. 

p.s. have you ever heard of the 7-point grading system!? I got a 90/100 on a midterm and according to this professor that's a B+. I'm a little ticked. 

would you believe I was freezing my tail off the whole time?

Jacket: Madewell, Blouse: Ruche, Cords: Gap, Flats: Amazon

We went out and took some pictures for my grad announcement. 

I'm not sure college students send out announcements but this girl is because it took me six years to finish this degree and daggonnit people are gonna know it's complete!

These were some pictures that didn't make the cut. 

If you're asking yourself "Do they all look this cliché?"

Yes, they do. All 273 of them.

It's a grad announcement, people. 

You're just lucky I didn't have one sitting with my fist under my chin staring into the great unknown. 

Or, at least, that one didn't make it on here. 

graduation is nigh

The final semester of my undergrad career has commenced! I cannot believe it's here. There is a teensy bit of senioritis I am feeling, but I think I'll get through. As my graduation draws near I can only think of two things: my family coming aaaannnd what I'm going to wear. 

My parents and grandma have purchased their tickets and they are coming to celebrate. I am SO excited.

As for clothes, here is one of my ideas. Thoughts? I love that print. 

EEEep! Graduation :)

see you after finals.

To Do: 

11/21: Turn in 6-page paper on 19th Century Women

11/22: Turn in 4-page paper on Pine Barrens

11/29: Turn in 10-page paper on the impacts of imperialism in Africa, China, and the Middle East

12/1: Turn in 10-page paper on Wurttemberg

12/2: Turn in 10-page paper on 19th Century Literature (Crime and Punishment)

12/6: Turn in 20-page paper on Poetry and the Spanish Civil War. 

60 pages in 3 weeks? I can do it. 

Starting... now!

hooky, the lame kind

I played hooky today. But not in a fun way. If I played hooky the fun way I would be in Raleigh right now shopping at the nearest H&M. But I'm not. 
I'm sitting at this desk working on my research paper.
I don't like missing class (and I'm missing four of them) but with five other classes to concentrate on this poor little paper has gotten the shove. 
I didn't forget about it though. Nope, I've been stressing for about three weeks. So I decided that a day off to focus on it was necessary and I was right. I have a clearly stated question, a general outline of what I want, a plan of attack, and tons of sources to scour through. 
It's good. It's time consuming. It's tedious. 
I just remember being here and here last semester. And all I want in the world right now is to be here. Actually, I want to be here. But I don't think that's an option. 

red in the face

History of the Environment in the U.S.


I'm almost positive that I am one of five people (out of 40) who do the readings for this class. Fortunately, we had an essay due so the discussion about Thoreau  and Muir was destined to be a decent one. People were trickling through the door five, ten, fifteen minutes into the class; they were the ones who had waited until that morning to start the seven-page essay. 


The discussion had already started, the basic question: How did you like Muir? 
I instantly responded with, 
        "Better than Thoreau." 
When asked to explain why I continued: 
        "His writing style is much easier to follow. He is succinct. Thoreau went on and on about the trees and the Indian guide. Muir didn't waste words. His descriptions were..." 
At that moment I looked up to see my professor smile at another student and tap his watch. 
I got flustered. 
       "Um... ya, Muir is succinct, which I am obviously not being..." I tapered off. 
Professor turned his attention to me and said (loudly) "Oh no! I wasn't referring to you! Please, continue."
       "It's okay" I replied, "I don't really have anything else to say anyway."
       "No! Please, I want to hear what you were going to say!" He urged.
       "I think my face is turning red," I stammered as my face rose in temperature and turned the color of a tomato.
       "Rachel, finish what you were going to say," he pleaded.
       "I just need you to stop," I stated helplessly. The class laughed at this demand I made of our teacher to leave me alone. 
       "Alright," he agreed, "We'll come back to you."


Yes, I thought, right after my face returns to its natural color.


I eventually did rejoin the conversation and it was a good one because people were prepared. When class ended he approached me, 
        "I wasn't tapping my watch at you. A student had just walked in a half an hour after class had started. I didn't mean to embarrass you." 
I smiled, shook my head and  assured him it was fine. 


And it was. I don't usually get embarrassed. You can't really afford to get embarrassed in my family otherwise your face would be permanently red from all the jokes we make at each other's expense. I guess now I just have to be on my guard with my professors. 


p.s. if you want to read a good nature book, here ya go. Not only does he describe one of my favorite places in the world but he also rides an avalanche. 

higher education

The sole objective of higher education is to make you feel stupid: completely, unforgivably, atrociously stupid. 

They aren't trying to teach all the things you don't know they just want to let you know that there are millions of things you don't know and that you never will. Do you understand the historical significance of the evolution of Prussia into a fiscal-military state? You don't? Well, you probably won't ever. But we will test you on it. You'll enter the test with shaking hands, stomach turning because you have literally made yourself sick trying to memorize factsdatespeoplewars, and then you'll stare blankly at the question wasting the first five minutes of your 65 minute time slot attempting to make an opening argument that didn't come straight from the mouth of a 10-year old. You'll leave feeling like someone kicked you in the head and then you'll return to the classroom the next day and say, "Please, I want some more." 


It's a vicious circle and you never come out feeling ahead. 


But it seems like you are the only one who feels this lost. Everyone else sits quietly in class, nodding their heads in agreement with whatever insane historical fact the professor just quipped as if they say, "Oh yes, we already knew that. Tell us something we don't know." And you, furiously scribbling notes, imbibing every single detail, cataloguing it, hoping it will latch on to some part of your brain, hopefully the part that recalls television quotes so effortlessly. But it won't, and you know it, because the history of the Holy Roman Empire isn't funny. At least not in the ha-ha sort of way and who memorizes non-funny quotes? No one. Certainly not you. 


And then, just when you think you are catching what the professor is throwing out some cavalier student in the back throws out some pseudo-intellectual question and you wonder, is that a smart question or an idiotic one? Am I missing something? Is he really smart and I'm just not on his level? 
Crap, the professor moved on. 


You read and reread the assigned material because you didn't understand the German historian the first or second time through and realize that just because it was translated into English does not mean that it is in a language that you understand. 
It is never enough. You will never know it all and yet that seems to be what they want from you. 


You leave dejected, feeling like a failure but you keep coming back. You might be a masochist.
Or maybe that's just me. 

rain

That is what my face looked like when I walked out Morton Hall and had to quickly make the decision to wait it out or brave the torrential downpour and run to my next class. The classroom that is approximately half a mile away. Without an umbrella. 

I learned something about myself today. 
Turns out I am a scaredy- cat. 
Because here I am, sitting in Morton Hall. Not in class. 
The ONE day I don't lug my umbrella around with me is the one day Wilmington decides to make good on its promise of 50% chance of precipitation. 

"And then the skies opened up and God said, 'I hate you Alfalfa." 

I hate missing class. But apparently not as much as I hate walking around in drenched jeans. 

food.

I have been trying to eat healthier (you know, minimize the cheez-it intake increase the fruit intake -- I'll let you know how that works out) 

And in order to help my achieve this goal I bought myself a nifty little lunch box. And, yep, it's for kids. But it holds more than enough to get me through the school day. Which is awesome because I always get hungry during class and then sprint to the closest vending machine I can find. Which is as cost effective as it is nutritional and we all know the nutritional value of Strawberry Pop-Tarts is... not important. 

So, all this week I have been packing my little lunch in the morning and taking it to school in my little book bag. And yesterday, my professor was eyeing it. And I think a little coveting was happening. Lunch box envy. 

And I don't blame him. This guy makes personal little picnics on perfect days like these all the easier. 
I love when money feels well spent. 

check.

I am about a week into the new semester. You would think I was two months in judging by the minor meltdown I had the other day when my printer refused to print two-sided (didn't it understand I was trying to save the world by using less paper?!) and then decided not feed paper through at all. 

Commence tears and acts of aggression towards the printer. 

I think I was just overwhelmed by all the reading I have to do this semester. Six classes worth of reading. The good news is, all the classes are interesting. Well, all the history classes are interesting. That one creative writing class I am taking is going to be a crack up. Because, as my history professor said, 

"When asked to journal History students tend to freak out. They aren't used to writing down their thoughts." 

We have it drilled into our heads that we should write facts and leave our opinions to ourselves. History is not theory. At least not as an undergrad. So anyway, after the freak out I ran over to OfficeMax to get some organization supplies, namely, a planner.  And boy, does it feel so good crossing to-do items off. Seriously, after reading two of my assignments and crossing them off the list. I just sat there, in the school library, looking pretty pleased with myself. Admiring that line, hovering over the title which I will never have to read again. Bliss.

redemption.

While on our honeymoon in Italy (can I please go back, now?) we ducked into a library to find some train-ride literature before we took off for Florence. There was a small English literature section and I was surprised to see very little that I recognized. I picked up the first title that seemed familiar and walked out with my first Jack Kerouac novel, On the Road. It was an American classic, bound to be a winner. Wrong. It took me about 4 months to finish. I just was so disgusted by the "free and easy living" lifestyle these guys promoted and the fact that the book seriously didn't have a point. Kerouac was officially a hack, at least in my book (and that's the only book that matters, right?). 

Unfortunately, Kerouac and I would meet again in the form of The Dharma Bums. My history professor decided that the Beat Generation was something worth noting in our glance at American history so I begrudgingly bought the book and loathed the day that I would have to read it. In order to get different perspectives on what popular thought was at the time of publication we read this review of Kerouac's previous works, On the Road as well as The Subterraneans (it's a bit long but it seriously states exactly how I feel about On the Road, Norman and I are two peas in a pod). I was all geared up to hate Dharma Bums. But, as I read it I saw this great evolution from a bohemian movement based on sex and alcohol to a bohemian movement, somewhat grounded in Zen Buddhism, that focused primarily on nature and connection with people*. I may not want to completely reject the "dumb white machinery in the kitchen" but I have a better understanding and respect for the movement as a whole. So thanks, Kerouac, for continuing to write as you grew in your ideology.

*The latter bohemian movement as portrayed in Dharma Bums still contained quite a bit of sex but not as much alcohol but that wasn't its sole focus ;)

life gets crazy.

Wow, I've been busy this week. I've been working two jobs, going to summer session and writing papers. I've barely spent any real time with the mr this week which is just lame. Hopefully my life will get more interesting next week. Or at least less busy. I just wanna hit the beach, yo. (I'm getting a little gangster over here in North Carolina)

sore

My legs, specifically my buttox region, are so sore today. I have to take PE as part of the university requirements and apparently the bowling/yoga/salsa dancing I did at community college didn't quite count. I'm not blaming them, North Carolina is the 10th most obese state in the country, and I am all for educating the population on exercise and healthy eating (of which I do one regularly, and it's not the healthy eating one) but I feel as though I should be exempt. I mean, I'm from California and if we haven't perfected the obsession with fitness and tofu (I've never tried it) than I don't know who has. All that to say, yesterday we were supposed to do Yoga, because this is a yoga and strength training PE class (which I already did, need I remind you), unfortunately we were unable to because the gym was being painted. So instead we got to run a few laps around the basketball stadium and then run the bleachers. Up and down. My booty hates me a little. It didn't let me sleep last night. Brutal. But I guess, if pain is gain, than I am going to be a big winner. 

collegiate

Because you aren't actually a college student until you own some collegiate apparel, right? Right. Plus it was on sale (still too much for a sweatshirt, but obviously that didn't phase me). It's funny, when I first got accepted at UNCW I wasn't that attached to the school. I applied because it's local and I just needed to finish my undergrad. After finishing my first semester I have grown really attached to the History program and the professors. The whole experience has been amazing. I'm one of those people who will probably have some attachment to my alma mater. Yep, the good ole days.

celebration

I got my final grades in the other day. Lowest grade? A-*

Needless to say we were pretty proud of my first semester at UNCW. So, Dan called yesterday while he was at work and said, "Let's go out to celebrate! Pick a restaurant." So, I scoured the internet for a little bit and realized that what I really wanted was a steak and a quiet evening at home. So, we grilled up my favorite red meat and enjoyed a yummy dinner over candlelight. And what celebration is complete without cheesecake? The correct answer is no celebration is complete without cheesecake. 

As for today, today I am being laze, like, still-in-my-pajamas-on-the-couch-watching-glee-episodes-online lazy. Soaking up my last couple days before my summer classes start. 

p.s. That bottle of wine is from a winery in our hometown. Just reppin' the Bay. 

*Who made up the rule that you get less points for an A-? It's a stupid rule. A rule that kept me from a 4.0 this semester. Rude. 

sweet freedom. for seven days.

I had my last final of my first semester at UNCW! I also turned in my final draft of my research paper. Twenty-one pages, ladies and gentlemen. Oh. SO glad to be done with that. I remember when I was freaking out because I didn't even have a thesis for my paper and now it's finished. Complete. The end. I think I might treat myself with Chili's fries this evening. Not that I ever need a reason to indulge in Chili's fries.

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i think about you more than i think i should

It's finals week. I can't believe the semester is already over; it has gone by so fast! It's actually perfect. See, last week Dan had his hell-week with a big case and tons of work, so I took care of most of the housework and cooking so he would be able to just work and relax in a calm, neat space. This week is my week and Monday morning Daniel said "Don't worry about doing anything, I'll take care of the dishes and food -- you just focus on your finals. And when you take a break, don't take a break and do the dishes. Actually take a break." Ha! I loved it. I do tend to "break" by tidying up. I don't know where I picked up that habit, my mom would be dumbfounded if she saw my cleaning anything voluntarily. Anyway, I love that Dan and I get to take care of each other when things are crazy. That's love. 

i would like to be the azalea festival princess

Alright, for those of you who anxiously await my every post, I don't think there are a lot of you but that just makes you the elite, or the bored, either way, sorry, I have been super busy with two things: my research paper and Dan's parents! Dan's parents are way more fun than a research paper, though. Also, for all of you who encouraged me through the writing process, thank you so much! I got 20 pages typed out for this baby, I was so proud of myself! And now it feels like a downhill movement from here -- mostly just tweaking things, adding some more info, but the basic skeleton is there and so much stress is out of my life. And Dan's parents came in on Sunday night and are here for the full week which just happens to coincide with the Azalea Festival here in Wilmington. Which means lots of stuff to do, love it. Oh yea, and there is a princess, who dresses up in a big ole southern, gone with the wind, dress. Welcome to the south. 

have i told you i'm doing a research paper?

I've been so used to blogging almost daily that the fact that I've not blogged in the past two days almost seems sacrilegious. I didn't start this blog as a daily journal, though that is what it has become more or less, I started it to keep people back home informed about what was going on in our daily lives out here on the East side of the country. Oh well, things evolve. As for the past few days, honestly? I've been working so hard on this research paper. I've got my first draft due in six days and it is one big jumbled mess attempting to be coherent thoughts on the elections, Vietnam, and politics. It is not pretty right now. It'll get there though. I know it. As for those pictures up there, I was going to go take them outside but who am I kidding? I didn't go outside today. I am a hermit. With only John, Lyndon, and Richard to keep me company. You know how when your life is so focused on one thing and that's all you can think about so that's all you can talk about? Yep, these three presidents and the war in Vietnam are number one topic of conversation for me right now -- don't you wish we could go get coffee and I could just talk your ear off? Ya, me too. I'd be thrilling I'm sure. As for the Presidents, they're alright. I'm starting to pick favorites but really attempting to not let that infiltrate my writing. Anyway, UPS dropped that shirt off yesterday, F21, and I am in love with it. The pattern and the cut. I was just excited, so I thought I would share the one thing that isn't related to this paper. 

p.s. this is what all the books in my life look like right now. Different colors for different presidents. JFK is the pink tabs because he's pretty.