I’ve been toiling and tossing and turning over this for the past week, but I think I’ll feel better when I just spit it out.

I’ve dropped out of graduate school.

There. I said it. It’s something I’ve been thinking of for the past few weeks. As our final papers were assigned for the semester, I started to examine my schedule. Not just my school schedule or work schedule, but my entire schedule. I work full-time at the Leader during the week, and have this dinky part-time job on the weekend. With me working late EVERY Monday at the paper, and then spending two evenings a week in class, it just became too damn much. I could feel a meltdown approaching, and I didn’t want it to come to that.

And, to be honest, part of me felt rather inept during class. Not all of the time, but I had my moments when I thought, “What the hell am I doing? I don’t belong here. I should be writing some emotional profile for the paper, or interviewing some local artist for a magazine. I should be reading some indie music magazine or painting my fingernails or calling my sister in California or organizing my mp3s.”

So, that’s that. As it turned out, I don’t have to repay any of my student loans, since I was only in class one month.

Part of me feels like I’ve failed, though. There has been only one other time in my 25 years where I didn’t finish what I started, and that was piano lessons when I was 10. I just got tired of playing the piano, and didn’t want to do it anymore.

But, then, it isn’t as if I don’t have a college degree and a job I love.

As I move further away from that fateful day I withdrew from my two classes, I’m confident I made the right decision.

Whew.

I’ve had my Friendster profile for a few months now, and I’m still confused how it all works. I’ve met two people, and found a friend from college. Now, I’m up to four friends. Not that the actual number matters, you see. I’ve always sought quality over quantity. But how do some of these people with Friendster accounts have 100-plus friends? And the lists and lists of testimonials? Shit!

Maybe I should network on Friendster more. But I’ve found much more comfort in LiveJournal. My LJ is like my favorite purple blanket. Aww…

When I signed up for Cox’s high speed Internet service last month, I was sent a free web cam. The problem? It’s designed for PCs. I own a Macintosh; therefore, the camera is useless to me.

You interested?

See the title of my journal, way up there? “Do I dare/Disturb the universe?” It’s a line from one of my FAVORITE poems of all time, “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot. It’s SO fucking good. I love this poem for many reasons, but you be the judge.

What better way to share the things you love than to give them away. Enjoy.

Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question…
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

(more…)

Go figure: http://maccentral.macworld.com/news/2004/03/05/ipodmini/

It’s been too damn long since I last updated this crazy documentation of my thoughts and observations. To bring you up to date on my past week…

(1) I was hit on by one of the workers at the Goodwill at 41st and Pacific streets Tuesday afternoon. I dropped off four bags of clothes. The conversation went something like this.

“Damn, girl. You fine. You single?”
“Um, no.”
“How old are you?”
“25. How old are you?”
“26.” (I knew he was lying. He looked about 18 or 19 years old.)
“Damn. Girl. Can I ask you out? Would your boyfriend mind?”
“Yes, he probably would.”

At this point, I handed over the Goodwill receipt with my name and address to this character.

“Wendy? Wendy, you didn’t put your phone number on here.”
“No, I didn’t. Write me a letter.”

Then, I walked out.

So, yeah. Whatever the hell THAT was.

(2) I gorged myself on salad, pasta, bread and tiramisu at Lo Sole Mio, the best damn Italian restaurant in Omaha. Period. It was amazing. I ate there Tuesday night, but had enough left over for dinner Wednesday night and lunch on Thursday.

(3) I finally found a new pair of jeans. That happened Thursday afternoon at the Gap. For those of you who care: http://www.gap.com/asp/Product.asp?wdid=201004&wpid=218662

(4) Tonight, I’m seeing the Yeah Yeah Yeahs play at Sokol. I work Saturday morning at 10, and am a little peeved the show doesn’t start until 9. Not that I’m whining, though.

(5) I finished “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” on Monday. A good book, even though it was depressing at times. Any suggestions for what I should read next?

…but I love this New York Times photograph.

For whatever reason, my naturally curly hair is frizzy today.

That is all.

Spring is on her way. I can feel it. This morning, I have my front and back doors open, plus a few windows. It’s gloriously gray outdoors, with the smell of rain in the air. I’m still in my PJs and burning CDs for my friend, Molly. It’s supposed to rain for most of the day, which I’m thrilled about. I’m more than ready for a break from the cold and snow of winter. Hurry up, spring! I’m waitin’ for you :-)

With spring fashions already in stores, I’ve concluded many a theory about my spring wardrobe: I want a pretty, feminine suit, something with a pencil (or mini) skirt and matching jacket/blazer; I want a flowy blouse that fits me well, but not too snug; I want some type of pink shoe; I want a handful of 1950s-inspired dresses, with a belt, please; I want A-line skirts, like the adorable rose design I saw at Target, by Issac Mizrahi; I want a few pairs of capri pants, although I’m not picky about the color; I want one of those skinny chokers that have a silk flower, that I wear to the side; I want lapel pins made of silk flowers; and maybe a pretty scarf to wear around my neck. I’m finding that my love of clothes lie in 9-to-5 wear, and not so much the sloppy T-shirts and shorts typically saved for the weekend.

I also want a new pair of jeans.

Let’s go shopping.