It’s day two of a winter storm that pummeled Omaha with more than a foot of snow. Much of the city looks like an arctic wasteland, covered in the first beautiful layers of pristine snow. As I type this, I can hear my neighbors cutting through the snow with their noisy-yet-effective snow blowers. The white stuff is being tossed about like flour or sugar. My driveway, a hilly monstrosity in the winter, is covered. I parked a block away last night after work, and walked home. As I trudged up my driveway, I was up to my knees in snow. It was cold. Damn cold. I was glad to be so close to my house. After 35 mph winds last night, I’m curious as to how much digging I’ll need to do this morning to unearth my car. I’m hoping my driveway will clear off a little today, so I can park in my garage tonight.

Brrr…

I have to thank my sweet friend, Molly, for sending me this bit o’ 20-something wisdom. Thanks, Molly!

They call it the “Quarter-life Crisis.” It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are many things about yourself that you didn’t know and may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.

Read the rest of the wisdom…

It’s past 11 p.m. Why am I not in bed? Why am I not the slightest bit tired? You’d think after a day filled with work and school, I’d be sleepy. Normally, I’m out by 10, sometimes 9:30.

But no. I’m wide awake. I should continue reading “The Da Vinci Code,” but I feel too connected to my Macintosh tonight. (Weird, I know.) Reading might help me get to sleep.

The first time I went through college, I saw loads of students chatting on cell phones. But now? It seems like every second or third student I pass on campus is yakking away on their “piece” (see The Hipster Handbook for details.)

I’m just as “guilty” when it comes to my cell phone. The key to the cell phone success story is not so much the portable technology, but the way in which it connects us to the people we care about and love. And what can beat caller ID and voicemail? Seriously.

Hello, babies. I’m coming to you LIVE from a computer terminal inside the UNO library. I have about 30 minutes to kill before my Intro to Literary Research class begins. The weather today is gorgeous, making the 10 minute walk from the parking garage to the library absolutely ideal for a January day in Nebraska. Classes are going well. My return to higher academia didn’t feel complete until yesterday, when I spent about three hours working on homework here at the library. I wasn’t wearing work clothes, just jeans and a T-shirt. It was great. To be in the quiet, among other students, was relaxing and stimulating at the same time.

Next Wednesday, I’ll be seeing Rilo Kiley play Sokol Underground. It’s an acoustic performance, so it should be amazing. In February I’m seeing Bright Eyes play the Witherspoon Concert Hall at Joslyn. I’m guessing that show will be wonderful, as well.

I’m considering quitting my part-time job on the weekends. Sure, the money is nice, but I’m finding my week to be even more crunched, now that I’m in school. My reluctance is due to: (a) the extra “fun money” my job provides; and (b) the fact that my bosses have been really good to me. I go back and forth, back and forth. For now, I’m taking it a week at a time. We’ll see how burned out I feel by February.

I’m getting a haircut on Tuesday. I’ve become Shaggy McShaggy in the five weeks since my last cut. Bring on the scissors!

I miss wearing dresses and sandals. I’m tired of sweaters and tights. Come on, spring; hurry up already!

Good day, everyone.

I just finished reading “High Fidelity” by Nick Hornby.

“Fuck the movie. The book was better.”
So proclaimed the writers behind “The Hipster Handbook.”

Having viewed the movie before reading the book, I’d have to agree.

Not much on tap for today. Work from noon to 5, followed by an hour or so spent at the UNO library. I’ve got some research to do for one of my classes. It’s been many, many months since I spent an evening at the library. Best of all: the UNO library has wireless Internet access of the high-speed variety. I can work on my homework on my adorable Macintosh. Hooray!

Another thought: My iPod is in need of a name. For months it has been “Wendy Townley’s iPod.” Boring beyond belief, I know. Any ideas?

My life is rated R.
What is your life rated?

I’m at work right now. Some woman walked in, asked to use our bathroom.

“I don’t know what happened, but I have really bad diarrhea.”

I’m not joking. She really told me this, before going into the bathroom. She’s been in there for 10 minutes.

Un-fucking-believable.

Let me start by saying this: Entering graduate school has been one of the most rewarding experiences for me as of late. I’ll admit, I was a little worried after my Intro to Literary Research class on Wednesday. My professor is great, but the subject matter appeared somewhat dull. My Culture of the 1960s class, however, was stimulating and audibly delicious. We have a variety of students (undergrad and grad alike,) of all different ages and backgrounds. On our first night, we discussed the 1950s and how it impacted the explosion of the 1960s. We watched commercials from the ’50s and a few scenes from “Dr. Strangelove.” Our two professors recounted where they were in the ’60s, followed by some great memories of radio, TV and marijuana.

Our assignment this week is to compare and contrast how T.S. Eliot’s “The Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” compares to the writings and beliefs of Sartre. The assignment is challenging and equally wonderful.

From Eliot:

Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

I’m so happy to be back in school! More later :-)