Hello all! Thank you for still being here when I decided it was time to check le blogue after maybe a month and a half. You guys are the best...
So, not much has changed since my last posting. I'm starting (eek!) my tenuous journey down the long road of graduate school applications. Currently working on my personal statement. I'm having a horrible time writing it. I know what I want to say regarding why I want to pursue graduate studies etc... but I don't know how to put it all together in a convenient narrative form. Bleh. If anyone has any advice, it would be appreciated :)
At the end of September I reached the ripe old age of 22! Alright! The event was celebrated with a medium-sized party at poquito hut. The theme was beer and cake. Funny story. I haven't thrown a party since I was 16 years old. I don't know why I wanted to do it this year, maybe because I'm finally living in a house with a porch. Anyway, on the Tuesday before the Saturday I decided it was time to call all the people I know (still living in Austin that is... wish you could have been there, and thank you to those who came) because I am afraid of making facebook events for nebulous reasons probably tied to my various neuroses associated with social networking websites. As I was calling the 20 or so people I wanted to invite a common conversational trope arose that sounded a little something like this:
Stav: Hi [friend], what are you doing this Saturday evening?
Friend: Um, I don't know. Why? What's up?
S: Well, I'm having a medium sized beer-and-cake party for my birthday and wanted to invite you.
F: Oh! cool, yeah, I'll come.
F: Is it on Face Book?
S: Err... No.
Which is why I eventually gave in and put it online. It wasn't hard. It was easy. It was helpful. IT'S OK TO PUT YOUR SHIT ONLINE (as I post details about my personal life on a public blog... ugh... see what I mean... but I digress). Anyway, when it was finally time for the party I got really nervous that people wouldn't show up. Then some people did show up between those purgatory party hours of 9:30 to 10:30. I put on some Fats Waller because I think 1940s jazz means partying as much as the next girl and set up a table on which to put the three different types of cake available. Then...everyone sat on couches, listened to music and talked quietly. It was turning into a sit on couches and talk quietly party!!! Nooo!!! Also since most of my close friends are women, at this point the people at my party were 8 of my girlfriends and one of their boyfriends. Awkward. Next to my stereo, there was a table laden with cake (with candles!), candy, and milk (provided by a thoughtful friend as a substitute to alcohol). Since all the beer was in the fridge, the party looked like a 12 year old's party. I started pacing the house, took out the recycling, and drank 3 beers in 20 minutes. I was so anxious I started breaking out in hives. This is funny in retrospect. Please imagine me frantically running around the house, kindof tipsy and very nervous. Really, very funny. In that Woody Allen kind of way that I love. The evening ended up being a success, but success isn't as entertaining as fumbling around.
Jeez. That was along anecdote.