pleats, hoods, and tassels.

School is out. Out for summer. I just submitted my M.Ed. draft to the group of colleagues so fortunately forced into reading and reviewing it. Sixty four pages of pure majesty.

Right.

The entire M.Ed. process has been a suffocated haze of malaise. But I have since released the document into the hands of others. The next 6 days until my peer review will be spent lounging in summery waves of heat and salty water. Sun-kissed skin and tar-stained feet be mine, for yes indeed, it be summa summa summaaatime.

Forgive my DJ Jazzy Fresh Prince reference. I just love summer break.

And I get to have several years of them now as I embark on this teachery journey. Things are happening people. I'm throwing applications humbly into the laps of principals and district super-intendants all over the damn place. Things are happening. Who knows where I'll end up.

I've been hanging onto my ex for the past ehh...about 9 or so months. I finally cut the rope and let the hot air balloon fly away. I'd been keeping a journal for him. Lovesick and nutty female that I am. I thought it was a somewhat healthy means of hurdling over that broken relationship, but alas, it was a tether, knotting me up and keeping me from moving on entirely.

I left that journal on his windshield along with the concert tickets I bought us months ago. He has not even acknowledged their receipt. Perhaps a stranger wandered by his obnoxious yellow car and plucked the Ziploc bag out from under the wiper blade. Who knows. All I know is that releasing that journal has been the best thing for my emotional well-being. I am free.

And I'm graduating bitchezzzz!!

Sunday. Yes, Sunday is the day I will don my graduation gown, a garment that can only be likened to a parachute, a parachute that's been released from it's tiny little compartment, only to swaddle my body so unfortunately with its pleated majesty. I'll post a photo after the big day. You're gonna die.

And guess what...yeah, I'm a Master of Education, so I get to wear this weird hood like contraption that hangs off my back but loops around my neck like some sort of cottony noose. It's altogether awkward, uncomfortable, and comedic in its presentation. I envision the designers of these dastardly getups sitting perched behind some window pointing and laughing at all us hooligans. We're supposed to be looking prestigious and accomplished. Instead we look as if we're headed to some sort of flying squirrel camp, that or an exceptionally homely buffet. At least I don't have to worry about sucking it in for the photos. Letting it all hang out here people.

In other news, I now live with three males. This means lots of crusty dishes, over-flowing trashcans, and bro-ing out in the living room. Lots of bro-ing out.

Our dryer is broken so I now hang dry my clothes out in the backyard, little house on the prairie style. It's fantastic.

I watched the entire second season of New Girl in two days.

I watched two entire seasons of The Walking Dead in two weeks.

I'm more than half way through the fourth season of Arrested Development.

I used to hate TV. And then my iPad got the best of me.

I just accepted an overnight babysitting gig. 10pm to 6am. With a three week old. So that should be interesting.

I also just accepted a full time serving position at Bacara, which is a ridiculous resort here in town. Google it. It's nuts.

Summer is upon us and all I can think about is laying on the beach all day errday. Life is good people. Life is good.