Hold the phone. I got into grad school. I still think that it is some sort of elaborate practical joke, but they seem to really want me.

As of current, I am planning on going to Emerson College come fall 2011 to work on my Masters in Integrated Marketing.

I was pretty resigned to not going to grad school and simply working for a couple years before studying for my masters. But now that I got into my DREAM program, it seems beyond stupid not to go.

But good god are there a lot of unanswered questions. Where am I going to live? Who am I going to live with? Where will I buy my groceries?!

More to come when I figure out any of those incredibly mundane, yet necessary questions.

I love old people. Not in a creepy sort of Anna Nicole Smith sort of way, I assure you. But more in a I love shuffle board, aquarobics, useless crap, game shows and eating dinner at four o'clock, sort of way. I love them, because I aspire to be them, at the ripe age of twenty one.

They always have something interesting to talk about and the crown jewel of all of this, is it seems that the older you get, the more your verbal filter seems to degenerate. Therefore leaving only the snarkyest comments behind.

For example. I went to visit my oldest and bestest old-person friend this afternoon to wish her a happy birthday (she is sprightly, clocking in at 73 years young). Shortly after my arrival, she had already fed me 400 pounds of cheerios and sewed buttons onto more than half of my wardrobe. It was at this point where the true joy of old-age comes into play.

As I was casually sipping my coffee and chatting about last nights episode of Jeopardy, I felt a yawn creeping up on me. Next thing you know, I'm yawning, and I mindlessly mention that I am a little tired. Without missing a beat, she causally asks "what's his name?" all while munching on Cheerios and cookies like she didn't ask me a completely inappropriate question, and in front of a third grader I might add!

I love it. I can't wait until it is socially acceptable for me to ask ridiculous, prying questions about other people's lives.

Really, What's not to love?

While the government could be shutting down, I get to answer the phone...

“Good afternoon, Congressman Bluemenauer’s office”

“Is this Congressman Bluemenauer’s office?!”

“Yes sir, it is.” (That would be why I said it was his office when I picked up the phone)

“Well I just want to tell you about some of my plans” (I open up my email and start to get comfy. Not only does he sound like he has a lot of things to tell me, but he is also a slow talker)

“Of course sir, go right ahead”

“I went to Salem, you know about the capital of this state?!”

“Yes sir, I’ve been to our state capital before”

“Ok, fine. Let me continue. When I went to Salem there was a BEAUTIFUL golden statue of a pioneer and then when I came to Portland I found out that we have the Trailblazers.”

“mmmmhhhmmm” (WTF?!)

“So I want to combine the two of those into one GIANT statue!”

“Just so I can be clear sir, you would like the Congressman to commission a golden statue of one of the Blazers? Like Brandon Roy?” (While I would be all for a bronzed version of one of Rip Cities finest, it still amazes me that people call in to ask for things like this.)

“I want to build a train with a hospital on its back”

And then he hung up

With a possible government shutdown lurking in the background of all talk around the office, I’m glad I still get to deal with some crazies to make my day a little brighter.

Smoothie Debacle

I have become obsessed with smoothies ever since moving into my new place. They are quick to make, delicious to drink, and perfect to take to work since I have kind of a wonky schedule. Recently though, I have run into a bit of a problem with my smoothie/work combination. What kind of carrying device is appropriate for the office? Read: people have been giving me funny looks because I have been drinking out of my old and dingy batman thermos.

So, I set out to finally find an appropriate smoothie transporter. I went to Bed Bath and Beyond, nothing. Fred Meyer, nothing. Finally I ended up in Starbucks to grab a coffee, and sitting on the shelf was a little (actually gigantic) reusable plastic cup, with a screw on lid.

My issue with this seemingly perfect beverage transporter is that it has a hard, reusable straw. For one, this means I can’t chew on the straw, and secondly how the heck are you supposed to clean a reusable straw?!

I know this sounds like a trivial issue, but nothing sounds worse to me than drinking a delicious smoothie out of a dirty straw.

What I’ll be drinking this morning (still in trusty old Batman)
1 handful frozen blueberries
Sliced up pineapple
1 mini yogurt
Little orange juice
Lots of ice

Mix ‘em together.