If today is any indication of what I can expect in the future, I'm not going to take very kindly to summer vacation. For some reason the shift from being completely stressed out to having not a care in the world bothers more than the actual surplus of stress. Maybe I just think too much.

I haven't done anything today. And by nothing I mean absolutely nothing. I feel like I should read, but it's too early to read for classes next week. I feel like I should write news stories but, well, I don't have the information I need. I could try to get that information but I'm too lazy to make more dreaded phone calls. My morning classes were even cancelled this morning, leading to maximum slackerness.

All I want is to drink orange julius and watch TV. So why does that feel so damn BORING?

As I mentioned in my previous post, I'm not cut out to be a reporter. I've learned that I can write decent news stories - at least my reporting instructor seems to think so - but I hate the interviewing process. I always feel like I'm invading people's privacy or bothering them. People are busy and I know they've got better stuff to do than talk to a lowly journalism student. That's why I get butterflies in my stomach every time I have to make that I-need-to-use-you-for-information-please-don't-yell-at-me-or-I-might-cry call.

My story this week has two grades at stake: mine and a classmate's. For that reason I feel like I should put forth a little more effort so I don't screw over a fellow reporting student. We're writing a joint feature on the city police department so I decided to call the crime scene unit to see what they're all about.

So I call the department, scared shitless as always. My keen sense of hearing and voice placement tells me the person that answers is a middle-aged man with an expanding gut and a hairline that's been receding considerably the past few years. By his tone it's apparent that he doesn't want to talk to me and he even goes so far as to say he'd rather not talk, but he replies to my questions regardless.

We talk about what the crime scene unit does. We talk about staffing for the crime scene unit. We talk about changes in the crime scene unit. Then I ask him what challenges the crime scene unit has been facing lately.

Ron: Our biggest problem is that we can't keep up. We're working on cases over a year old.
Me: Why so late?
Ron: Well we have 140 cops throwing evidence from all kinds of different cases at us. We can't keep up.

....leading me to wonder exactly how many people work in the forensic department - the CRIME SCENE UNIT - at the Duluth Police Department. So what do I ask? What could I have possibly asked?

Me: So how big is your unit?

The interview ended shortly later.

I would love to put up an exciting, thought-provoking blog, but it turns out that there is little in my life that is exciting or....well, or though-provoking. So here's what I've been up to...

I've been spending most of my time putting off homework. If I somehow managed to focus all my homework-putting-off time on actual homework-doing time, I would be one hell of a force to be reckoned with. I can't wait for the end of the week and once this week is finished I won't be able to wait until the end of next week because that signifies the end of my second to last semester at this fine school. About flipping time.

I'm heading home this weekend but before I do I have to finish up my last beat news report of the semester. I can't think of anything - well, school-related at least - that has ever made me happier. This is the class I have feared daily since I finished my public speaking stint two years ago and now I'm a week from being finished with it. Needless to say the past 14 weeks have really proven to me that I am by no means cut out to be a reporter.

As excited as I am for this semester to end, I never want it to be over. This is my last semester at school (EVER) with Alexis around and I just don't know what I'm going to do without her. No more May Day baskets. No more late-night games of Life. No more Tang mang. No more danny motebook. No more joint trips to the mail box. No more unicycling in the hallway. All in all, a lot less laughter and a lot less fun.

One thing's for sure...someone is going to have to be doing some traveling this summer because there is NO WAY I can quit Alexis cold turkey.

I'm really excited to see Darren tomorrow for a number of reasons, but I just keep thinking about the lint that might be in his belly button and I can barely keep myself under control.

And the blogs grow consistently shorter...

I know I can't wait for this semester to finish, JUST FINISH ALREADY, because it's the semester from the fiery pits of hell, but I also can't help but look forward to next semester. Screw summer...my last semester at college is going to be my real "time off." I just registered for classes and I bascially have a four-day weekend every week. I'll be finishing classes at 12:40 on THURSDAY and heading back to school at 2:45 on MONDAY. Holy God am I ever going to be a slacker. Is it September yet?

Warning: boyfriend babblage ahead. If this sort of thing makes you as ill as it makes me, turn back now and be thankful I don't say this shit to you in person (unless, of course, you are unfortunate enough to live with me.)

Ah, life. Isn't it interesting? You know what's even more interesting? Love. What could possibly be harder to predict? The thing I've noticed about love is that everyone's got The List. Everyone's got a list between five and twenty items long of what his or her ideal mate would be. I've got one too, I admit, if only lingering in the back of my mind. No matter how much you can try to deny it, The List is there. But I've come to realize this: The List is bullshit. You're never going to find someone that is all of those things, even if you only want a limited number of characteristics from your significant others. Odds are before long you'll find someone amazing that is none of the things on that list. And if you ever DO manage to find your "ideal" partner, he or she probably won't be into you. That's just the way life is.

Well, I've found someone now that fits The List pretty damn well. Sure, he's not perfect, but he's good to me, we goof off constantly, he's sweet (just enough for it to be really flattering), honest and adorable. Plus he makes me laugh like none other and my family loves him. And he's loud. I never thought I would want someone loud, but it shows that he's not afraid of people. The last thing I want is another guy who is afraid of people. And I love the weird things about our relationship. I like it when he ignores me (as long as it doesn't get overdone), maybe just because I get to see that guilty smile once I finally grab his attention. Or maybe it's because I have more leverage next time I tease him. I also love it that he lets me pay sometimes when we go out, even though I'm a poor, unemployed college student and he's got a pretty decent job. Is that weird? It's like there's the perfect balance between unparalleled support and total independence. It just feels so real.

And the best part is I never saw it coming. I had finally stopped wishing I had a romantic interest to waste my time with when he walked into my life. I had just realized I was okay with being single, that I could, in fact, be HAPPY and still be single. I guess in that respect it was perfect timing because I didn't feel like I would have just taken anything that came along.

Deep down, being in a perfectly happy relationship does scare me. It scares me to think that I haven't even known this guy for four months, but he always sneaks into the picture when I think about my future, whether it be six months or sixty years from now. It scares me that I'm 20 and I think I've found the guy I want to spend my life with. It scares me because it feels like I have met the male version of me, and if that's the case, it's kind of like I'm making out with myself. But I'm trying my damndest to stop my bloody worrying and just enjoy what's good while it's good. The thing is, though, I can't see the goodness ever going away.

Yuck, okay, it's over now. I apologize. Anyone who suffered through that deserves a cookie. I would offer cookies, but I have none. Somehow I don't think it would matter...

Anyway, thank God Darren doesn't read this or he'd be shitting a brick, eh?

I was really proud going to church yesterday. Not because I hadn't been there in months and I finally managed to wake myself up for the 9 o'clock mass. Not because my mom came too and she's even worse about attending than I. I was proud because our five-person family swelled to eight this weekend and all eight of us went to church. I was only responsible for one of the people, but somehow I think that bringing a few extra folks to church with us on Easter (especially if they're not Catholic..let's not mention that one was an athiest...) will make up for all those weeks I failed to make it to church.

Among other highlights this weekend: Junior winning the Hobey Baker Award. Darren coming to Duluth on Thursday (and Green Mill wings on Thursday). Going to my parents' on Friday. The year's first trip out to the shack (it's everything I rememebered it to be). Witnessing the large-and-in-charge Lucy kick Lillie the wee pup's ass. Seeing my sister and her boyfriend, Chuck or Jess or Larry or whatever you want to call him. Blessed food at my grandma's for Easter. Board games. Getting hugs and kisses whenever I damn well pleased. My mom filling us up with unhealthy amounts of jelly beans, Cadbury mini eggs, Doritos and pop all weekend. (I may never recover.)

The less happy parts of the weekend: the ice that slickened the trail behind my parents' house, making walking nearly impossible. Cleaning up Lillie pee. Saying goodbye to Darren. Worst of all was the fact that the weekend ended and I have to wait another five days before I can have another.

I ate so much candy today that I had to brush my teeth twice just to get them to a point that resembled cleanliness. I don't know if I should give Cassi a big hug for blessing the apartment with an abundance of pastel-colored fat agents or if I should blame her every ounce I gain for the rest of my life. It was as if Queen Goozen were smiling down on me, saying, "What's that? You've got PMS? Here, dear, here's more chocolate than you'll know what to do with."

The hockey game is on tomorrow morning...I'm sure of it this time. I've already got a hot date with Alexis to catch the best of the best (UMD) beat out the team (Denver) that managed to somehow beat the REAL best of the best (UND) to get this far. Needless to say I'm looking forward to tomorrow morning. If, for some inexusable reason, Duluth cable does not have the game on, I will cry. I will lie on my back on our thinly-carpeted living room floor and scream and kick my legs and flail my arms in a genuine temper tantrum. Don't put it past me.

Tomorrow both of my morning classes are cancelled AND Cassi is going to braid my hair AND the hockey game is on AND I get to see Darren AND have wings. I'm not sure how this weekend could possibly live up to the great day I'm sure tomorrow is going to turn out to be.

I've come to realize that, although I bitch incessantly about class and homework, I have it made on Mondays. After hearing about others' full day Monday escapades (i.e. Alexis and Aurora), I feel almost bad dreading the beginning of the week.

I certainly get eased into the week. With my first class at 11 o'clock Monday mornings, I get to sleep in and recover from my rowdy weekends. (So rowdy that I went to bed last night upset that I would only be getting nine hours of sleep, rather than the ten I had gotten the three nights before.) Then I have a class that usually lasts 15 minutes at three o'clock. And no homework. Would it be wrong of me to say I love Mondays?

I love Mondays and I hate writing news stories. Who ever would have thunk it?

This, my friends, this RIGHT HERE, is why we love Duluth. (We DO love Duluth, don't we?) We love Duluth for it's 60 degree early April days. Sixty degrees has never felt so warm (that would be w-arm, not war-m, for all you city-dwellers). When I walk outside my skin is actually heated by the sun to the point that I can feel the sunburn beginning to develop. Bring it on, spring, I am SO ready for you.

If my roommates happen to read this, I would like to encouarage them to hide all chocolate in the apartment if they hope to enjoy any of it themelves. I haven't been able to control myself around the morsels of sugary goodness lately, and I fear if it isn't taken out of my reach I will eat every ounce of the stuff in a half mile radius. Won't my neighbors be curious when I'm rifling through their cupboards in the wee hours of the morning. That'll teach them to lock their doors.

In an attempt to wean myself off chocolate today, I bought Skittles. I just dropped one on the floor and coudn't find it. I won't search any harder for it, but you can bet that I will find the wee candy orb in a month and a half when I'm cleaning to move back home for the summer. You can also bet that I'll eat it then. Maybe I should toss a few more under my desk so I have a real treat during finals week cleaning. Maybe not.

As may be evidenced by my excessive use of capitalization, I'm rather restless today. I get to meet little Lille, my brother's new puppy, this weekend. I'm so excited to finally have a niece. I hope she likes me. I also hope she doesn't shit on my bedroom floor. I'm not sure I can wait another five hours for my dad to come pick me up. But he has to go to a meeting to find out if he's going on strike on Monday, and apparently that's more important than seeing his youngest daughter a couple of hours earlier.

Too long! Must stop! Okay okay, I will then...

I tried to blog today. Really, I did. But Netscape eats animal scat and decided it should cause my blog-in-progess to be a blog-no-more. Perhaps tomorrow.