Nar Nar Narcissist.

I implemented a new habit this week. I now take two capsules of fish oil every morning. I am pleased with myself. I can actually change!

Now I have some new goals.

1. Drink 2 full glasses of water right when I wake up, and 2 right before I go to bed. Then I might actually get the 8-10 glasses of water required.

2. Write twenty minutes a day. Here are the rules. The twenty minutes cannot be writing required for any class, or for my blog, or journal, or for my thesis. These are twenty minutes of new prose writing just for little old me.

Now I will tell you about my week.

For a moment my nonsensical life made a wee bit of sense. I felt like God actually knows what he is doing with me. Why I would feel the spirit while taking classes for the SAME EXACT DEGREE that I already almost have. MFA. Creative Writing. Fiction. (And a class that, if I were not taking, would buy me a dutch bike.) It goes like this. I was at the pickle company and Francois was there. We had a big huggy. He then told me how much the creative writing faculty wanted me for the Ph.D. He really emphasized this. He said that every one of them were behind me. He told me what happened after that. The Graduate Committee, i.e. all the literature professors who get the final say on Ph.D. candidates, felt that someone from say Boulder, or Seattle, or Vermont would be a smarter/better student than one from Utah. It had everything to do with geography. He said my application was perfect. The creative faculty could not persuade them otherwise. They tried.

I asked Francois for names of faculty I need to talk to. He gave me a name. It was someone I had already talked to and the conversation hadn’t gone well. At a party, I told said professor that I am from happy town, that I have four kids, that I went to BYU…his eyes glazed over. I could see “I’m talking to an idiot” in his eyes.

Still, Francois and I decided that I should try again. Talk to professors. See what happens. I am happy about this renewed possibility.

It is only a thread of sense, but I’ll take it, and hope that it weaves and grows.

Now About Anne: I promised that I would not blog about what Anne said she is doing in the monastery. So I am not blogging about what Anne said she is doing in the monastery. Zip. Zilch. Nothing. You’ll keep yourself pure and holy, right?

Now about Harrison: He started school. He got a haircut. Two pairs of converse. New glasses. New folders. A new wire in his braces. He puts on cologne.

Now about Max: He needs to work on his handwriting. Otherwise he is brilliant.

Now about Mira: She is happy as a lark.

Back to me: I saw my favorite people at BYU. Steve. Kathy. Cat. Carol. Leslie. Anelisa. Professor Perry. I told them salacious things. Things about American kids in monasteries.

I got Cat’s blog address and am in love already.

I swam in my lake. It heals me every time. Water is the best baptism. I think fire would suck.

Oh. Oh. Oh. I have to tell you that I broke all internet safety rules and emailed Dottie from “Let’s go ride a Bike.” I asked her about the Electra Amsterdam. She was very even and diplomatic, but said the bike sucked. I am in internet love with Dottie and her bikes.

Now I must go and read Mulligan Stew. And Basil E. Frankweiler. And Facebook Updates.

Toodle Doo.