Thursday, March 26, 2009

94. The Dinner Party

We began with sushi. Sort of. It was the lazy version, where everyone compiles their own hand-rolls made to suit their own specific specifications at the table. It's delicious, unless you ask Bill. He's not really a seafood fan. Also, he seems to have had the misconception that wasabi is just another version of hot sauce. Because he loaded his sushi down with it, and when we warned him of the dangers he was about to consume, waved us off with, "No, no. It's solid".
Moments later he was gagging over my kitchen sink. He dropped out of the dinner marathon shortly thereafter.

As Matt, Gerritt and I continued to stuff our guts with raw salmon and mahi, Ein determined it would be appropriate to barf at our feet. She was quickly stuffed into a crate to do her business over a towel, and dinner continued.

Bill settled on the couch and began perusing for the first time. His less than appetizing descriptions of burgers topped with burgers, spam cakes filled with bacon and pizzas topped with mayonnaise and cholesterol were quickly interrupted by the scent of poo wafting through the dining room. Matt assessed the situation and determined that it was Ein's spew that had begun to stink. Like poo. I was left struggling to support a wine refrigerator while the crate was removed from under it and exiled to another room.

It was then that Matt discovered the true source of poo smell...actual poo.
In the hallway.

Yesterday or the day before, I can't remember which, Bill switched his dog back to an Iams (read trashcan) diet after over a year of feeding strictly raw meat. Because, in Alaska, you apparently can't find raw meat at reasonable prices, and no one sells high quality commercial dog food either. So Sammers is much like a junkie coming down off the smack, and chose to let loose his bowels all over my carpet. It was sort of like that horrifying scene in Trainspotting, where Spud ruins his girlfriend's sheets and then coats her entire family in his mess as they're sitting together at the breakfast table. Only no one got splashed in this instance.

Dinner came to a close accompanied by the sounds and smells of a steam cleaner sucking brown mooshies out of my rug, and received a final rating of "Socialite Fail".

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

93. Argh.

The entirety of my Tuesday was spent enrolling in college. Ok, actually, I applied over a week ago, but yesterday I did my placement tests for English and Math, registered for my first quarter of classes, and finished up with applying for financial aid. The beginning of the quarter is still three weeks away and already I'm feeling completely overwhelmed.

It's my fault. I'm trying to make this time perfect, and that means choosing a reasonable major. You know, something that will actually pan out into an actual career after graduation. Only every time I go over the course catalogs, I feel myself being drawn to the flakiest of shiny happy subjects instead of anything that resembles my one day bringing home the bacon.

My first quarter is to be English 101 and Drawing 1. I'm especially excited about the drawing, and it wasn't even my suggestion. When my advisor saw that Math 080 wasn't offered this quarter, he decided I should do something more fun while I become re-accustomed to the higher education lifestyle.

The thing is that now I can't put down the course catalog. I'm 27 years old and I still have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. It's sort of ridiculous, but I'm indecisive and attracted to too many possibilities. After picking through the catalog for the past half hour, I'm finding that a degree in Biology or Anthropology are the most intriguing.


Archaeology is immensely fascinating. I spent a fair portion of my elementary school years checking out every book on ancient Egypt that I could find at the library. And as for the biology portion, I heart science. But I'm horrible at math. And then there's this piece of me that wants to take about a billion art and science courses and combine the two realms into insane interpretations of evolution on canvas or in sculpture.

Everything sounds really exciting until I stop and remind myself that by the time I'm finished, I'm going to have amassed more than $20,000 in student loans, and I'm going to need a career that pays well enough to cover the bill. So what to choose? Accountant?

Shoot me.