Whew!! The end of the semester is here. I am still alive. I still have my sanity...well, what sanity I had starting this little adventure is still somewhat intact, I have never bragged to anyone that I was ever completely stable. I have not been this stressed in years. At the beginning of the year it seemed like such a huge adventure. Anything I start new like this is just beyond fun, in my mind. I know, I am a book nerd, so be it. Some people enjoy running for 18 straight hours until their legs curl up like pretzels and they need to be transported in a wheelbarrow to their place of residence, some people like to travel great distances in all kinds of weather to sit in the cold rain to watch an odd bird of some sort do the hoky-pokey infront of a potential mate, I happen to love to learn things so this has been an absolute joy to me...until this month. This month has been different. This month has found us all scrambling to finish reports, put together things like seminars and powerpoint presentations, there has been the added pressures of trying to study for numerous tests and the list goes on and on, and yes, I understood this from the beginning, I knew this was what was going to happen, but it still does not make it any easier when crunch time comes and we are all down to the wire. I have to mention my powerpoint presentations. The very first one I put together was so bad. I mean, think of it like this~~ I am sure you have all seen a picture of the 'Mona Lisa', well think of what a stick figure would look like beside it and that would be my very first powerpoint presentation; the stick figure, not the 'Mona Lisa'. It served its purpose, but since we had not formally learned how to put a powerpoint together it had a lot to be desired. Once we learned powerpoint, well boys and girls!! I put my next one together with every bell and whistle Microsoft had included with the application. My pictures flew, they swirled, they increased in size, faded, changed color and bounced. They vortexed, cubed and even disappeared and reappeared. I was a powerpoint GENIUS!! I was so sure that my powerpoint would be the total envy of everyone; that is, until I took a look at the finished product. The instructors here have all told us to beware of a thing called 'death by powerpoint', where your presentation just goes on and on forever and people eventually expire from the sheer overwhelming boredom of the whole thing. Mine had a little variation on that theme. Mine was 'death by powerpoint~~ EXPLOSION' There were so many bells and whistles that I feared someone would have an epileptic seizure from watching it and need to be hospitalized. Needless to say I toned it down some and eventually produced a fairly decent presentation. At least I think so anyway... virdict is still out on the instructor and eight other students that watched it and went running from the room screaming. Anyhoo, as I sit here making this blog, on the second to last day of school before the Christmas vacation, and YES people, I say CHRISTMAS, not 'holiday', not 'winter event' and not any other stupid politically correct term for what I love to celebrate, I am very pleased to say that the huge list of things I had to accomplish when this month started is now all yellow-ed. That means that in my agenda, where all these things have been written down, I have crossed them all off with a beloved yellow hi-liter, which means they are finished. Those jobs are done. They have all been accomplished and now I can safely breathe a huge sigh of relief and sit back and be proud of myself. It has been a lot of stress for us, and I, for one, do not deal well with an over abundence of stress, it does funny things to me, like making me forget simple tasks like how to breathe, looking at people I know and wondering who they are, standing out on the deck at 2:30 in the morning in my jammies and thinking I should probably go to school and get a head start on the day, you know, silly little things like that. Crazy I know but that is the way it is. I have learned some things tho, I have learned that, even though I have done well this semester there are ways to do even better, like how to budget my time, how to do reports better and how not to stress so badly that I turn funny colors and eat cat food. I have also learned one more thing. I have learned that I am truly blessed to be able to endure this stress, to be able to put myself to the test and see that I can actually accomplish these tasks that have been set out before me, because as I write this, I have to think of the thousands and thousands of people this time of year, and all throughout the year as far as that goes, who, due to no fault of their own, are not able to enjoy any of the things I take for granted. So all in all, I have to say I am very happy with my life and the way things are going, and now that our semester is just about over we will all be able to have a bit of a rest before we have to gear up for Christmas, or Hannukah, or Kwanzaa, or whatever we all celebrate. So, in closing, I hope you have a merry 'whatever-you-celebrate', I know I will, please remember that there are those who could benefit from any kindnesses you could bestow upon them, no matter how small, and, just incase you were worried, I am no longer stressed enough that my kitty needs to share her kibbles with me. Peace out ma peeps.

Test Day

Oh dear Lawrd it is test day. We have known about this test for over a week, and it was only (ONLY) two chapters long, so it should have been all good, right? Well. I don't know about how the weekend went for the rest of the class, but for me there was no less than fourteen, count them FOURTEEN different school related items on my to-do list, plus go shopping, plus get ready for Thanksgiving, plus a mountain of laundry and yadda, yadda, yadda. Yeah, I know, that has to all come into account when going to school, deal with it, pull up your big-girl panties and so on, but still, all those things do not add to the hours in a day, they take away from them, and something ends up getting the hind you-know-what and that happened to be the two chapters for the test. OH pooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooop. As I sat in the class just before it was time to take the actual test, I thought back to all the moments I had let slip by and essentially wasted instead of putting them to good use and studying. Idiots do that. High school kids do that. Adults are not supposed to do that. Adults learn from their childhood and put those lessons to good use so that problems like not studying are nipped in the bud and time is organized and put to good use and chapters are read and re-read and terms are memorized and pictures are analyzed and................oh poop twice. The test was Wednesday morning and Tuesday evening I am sitting in the kitchen with books and notes and the cat looking me in the face and the computer seductively calling my name, telling me there are some IMPORTANT messages on Twitter I should be looking at, and oh maybe if I get myself a snack I will be able to concentrate better and..... crap~ who am I kidding? I busted the weekend and should have studied and didn't. It is now Wednesday morning about a half hour before the test, I am calm, there really is no reason to be anything but.I made my decisions and now I just have to deal with the outcome. I scanned through the two chapters, trying to look like I knew everything there was to know about markets, analysis, shares, profits, customeers and so on, hoping that my poor tired brain would please absorb just a little more so that I would pass and not be a disgrace to the marketing world, and would eventually end up with a good job and not be left penniless out on the street with a cardboard box as my new home because I couldn't get a job to support myself and my cat, she is very high-maintainance and can only eat a certain kind of kibble and oh God I felt like I was going to fall apart into very small pieces on the cold unyielding floor and in comes the instructor. It is go time now friends and neighbors. To varying degrees everyone was reflecting what I was feeling, so I really felt like we were all united in our pain, so that gave me some comfort in knowing we were together in this battle, we were all fighting the same enemy and we would all either triumph or all go down in flames, but we would be together. We would go through this as a unit, together we stand, united we fall, you see the picture,I'm sure. Here we go. The paper is now infront of me, it is time to put the rubber to the road and actually look the thing over and start answering the questions. I read the first question and found I had actually lost the ability to comprehend the english language. I am not sure what language I was reading but it made absolutely no sense to me what so ever. I might as well just sign my name to the paper and be pleased with the half point I would get for doing that right; I checked; I did spell my name correctly. I blinked a couple of times and english slowly replaced the foreign words on the test paper and I actually started finding some questions I knew the answer to, so I kept going, hoping that the look on my face was one of intelligence but I was pretty sure it was like Goofy's look when he went down the ski slope. It didn't matter anyways, by that time I had finished the test and handed it in and sat in the chair feeling like the world's dummest old person who had no reason to be sitting in a chair beside all the young people who still had functioning braincells that had not been corrupted by old age and what ever else I could blame my impending test failure on. I knew there was no point in going on, I was destined to fail and would have to give my cat to someone who probably would not feed her the kind of food she was used to and where in hell would I get a cardboard box to fit me? My life was in ruins and there was no point in even bothering to try anymore and OH CRAP here comes the instructor back with our test results. Oh my freakin' hell I can tell just the way she singled me out with that look that I was the only one in the freakin' class that failed and God somebody shoot me now before I actually turn the marked test over and see..........................................................21/25. 21/25??? That seems to translate into 84%. I passed. Sweet niblets I passed. Frankly I don't understand what the problem was, I really didn't have any worries.........

Accounting, AKA, The Spawn of Satan

I will not ever profess that I have had any kind of love affair with numbers, as far as I am concerned they are basically kept on call for things like keeping pages of books straightened out and reminding me just how many kilometers I am going past the posted speed limit, and other than that I really have not got a whole lot of use for them. Don't get me wrong, I do understand their importance and value, it is just that I have never found any real romance with them, so numbers and I have basically gone about our merry ways...until now. Since being back in school and taking the business administration course, I have found that I can no longer route my way around anything number related as I am now in an accounting course. A good analogy would be a person with a fear of bees taking up bee keeping. I decided to be optimistic about the whole thing, I sucked at high school math, but that was the stuff that was, in my mind, meant to teach a person how to bend light years into fractals and chart the courses of stars and such. Make no sense? It never did to me either. I never got anywhere near high powered math, considering how bad I was with regular math, so being sent to school and being made to endure the tortures of quadratic formulas and sines and cosines and the like just gave me a natural fear and wariness of anything numeric, no matter what it was. I looked through the accounting books and decided they would not be my enemies, they would be my very best friends. I would cherish them, love them and absorb every ounce of wisdom they had to tell me and I would be one with the numeric world instead of shunning it as I had done in the past; yeah, right. It wasn't too bad in the beginning, there was a lot of reading, which was good, telling about single proprietorships and revenues and so on, all things I could deal with, they were describing numbers and so far we were still on track as being best buds. Then came the fateful day when we actually had to start doing charts and things like that, and numbers started showing up like wild tigers being let loose from their cages. At first things were good, I was able to deal with them, and then things started to get curly. All the theory that we had been reading about needed to be put in practice and we had to balance statements, and calculate equity and all the things that meant I could see my love affair with numbers quickly turning into a hate-filled relationship. Really~~ who actually does these things? Who really balances all these equations and keeps all these things straight in thier head, much less in a book somewhere? I know, accountants do this, people who apparently love to see their braincells bleed and burst from the sheer agony of keeping all these things straight, people who must love to see a new tax rule or accounting regulation come into being so they can back-dive into those numbers and make them all neat and tidy once again, people who apparently live a strange and rather sado-masochistic life, in my eyes anyways. This would all pass by my thoughts as I tried to balance numbers that, once again, would slip through my grasp and stand off far enough that they could laugh at me but not get cought. I hated them. I hated them with every fiber of my being. I was the one who wanted to be their friends. I was the one who was willing to open up my heart and offer them solace when things were getting too rough for them out in the real world but no~ they spurned me and set the stage for war. Questions in the workbook were assigned to us in class~ the numbers and I fought hard, each side taking hit upon hit, we would both retreat to lick our wounds and then we would go back to the battleground for another round, and it all culminated in the epic battle~~ our first accounting assignment that I had to do on my own and pass in. It seemed like I was going to die on the battleground with this one. I would start with the determination that I WOULD win. I would be victorious and pass this in with no problem, and then anarchy. I would inevitably make a mistake somewhere and the whole thing would go to hell in a hand basket and once again I would end up hating accounting, and calling it names I never even knew I knew. this went on for a whole weekend and still I never accomplished what I had set out to do. Problem was, I was maddeningly close. Close enough that I could almost smell victory. Almost. With a heavy heart I went to school on the day I had to turn in the assignment, still close to completion but with two tiny mistakes keeping me from my prize. God bless Lisa and Brenda, they helped me see where my mistake was and I finally finished it and with a sigh of exhaustion I gave the instructor the assignment; torn, bloody and nearly unrecognizable but still on her desk and out of my hands. A few days passed and the instructor gave us back the assignments. I hated to think about my mark. I knew it would be disasterous and I hated accounting all the more for it. Accounting was destroying my life and causing me no end of pain and heartache, not to mention an ulcer; for a fact. I looked down at the paper and saw...SHUT THE FRONT DOOR!!!!!!!!!!! !00% correct. I love accounting!! :) More later, keep it real friends, ♥Sue.

Technology, part 2

From my earlier ramblings about the adventures of my beginning computer days, I now bring you to the present. Oh, and by the way, I am not in any way endorsing turning your computer off improperly, so kids, don't do that at home; and always wear your safety goggles. Anyhoo, as I was going to say, I have come a long way from those days. I am very proud to say that I think I am pretty good at making my way around a computer, I have tought myself a lot, I have learned a lot from my best friend Nicole, who's greatest words of wisdom have been that right clicking is your best friend, and 'Did you clean out your computer like I told you to?' Thanks to Nicole for being so patient. I am pretty damn snazzy at typing too. I tought myself to type at nearly forty words a minute with nothing more than a typing program that I tought myself, and that, to me, was something to be proud of. So what the hell happened? Duh, duh duhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh~~ computer class. I went from being top dog in my little world to rank amateur in the real world. Wow. What a reality check. I was so surprised at how little I really know about the computer that I play on. It seems as strange to me as the first day it entered my house. I started the computer class very optimistic. We did the basics like naming the various parts, yeah, good, I was with it so far, naming the different internal components, yup, Discovery Channel had covered those so I was still cruisin' with the top down, and then we started with bits, bytes, nano this and terra that, and what was the hard drive capabilities of such and so computer and so on and so on, and up to this point I never really cared just as long as I could play the games I liked and do some more electronic hoarding on Pinterest. So basically the fabric of lies I had told myself concerning my takeover of the world of technology shredded to pieces at my feet, and I quickly learned that I KNEW NOTHING!! Bummer. I also quickly learned how to nod my head with what I assumed was a competent look on my face and make believe I actually knew what I was doing. I look like I know what your talking about, right? Good. Faked you out again. Well friends, the work had started. The instructor wanted an e-mail sent. After much deliberation and some help from others I managed it. Good. I was a computer tech now, right? Oh yeah, Sue, you just keep telling yourself that. Next it was a bit more in depth. Open this, compress that, send another thing and file that under what ever. I was freaking! I never had to do this before, I had no clue and whats more, I was terrified. If I could not do this stuff, the simple things that were the foundation of the class, what chance did I have when the real poop hit the henhouse? I struggled with the things that the others were breezing through, and under my breath,(probably not so under my breath if I really think about it) I started muttering details of the hideous things I was going to do to the computer I was working on if it soon didn't divulge the whereabouts of the damn file I needed to open to get this part of the chapter finished. Things like scissors to certain vital cords, and crumbs and such to some inner workings and a really nasty sneeze to the monitor if it soon did not agreeing to my demands. And then it happened. I actually had to do something I understood. I had to change font sizes, use italics, use the bold button, all things I knew. Praise the powers that be I was actually getting the hang of it!!! And as if that wasn't just the dip on my chips, I actually was able to help someone else with what they were doing. Oh freakin' Em Gee. I am not saying it has been smooth sailing since that day, there was a quiz that sent me to the washroom ready to throw in the towel, but I had to laugh at myself after the whole stupid thing was over, I was so nerved up over the fact that we were actually being quized that I froze and could not for the life of me read the one word that was the key to the whole thing. I did manage to get the quiz done and I even made a 91 on it thank you very much, so once again, a valuable lesson was learned that day. I am not sure exactly what it was, but I will figure it out,I am sure. No really, I am joking!! I did learn from that little adventure that I have to stop panicking and expecting the worst to happen, and just get 'er done. And for crap sake Susan use some common sense!! Things have gone much better since then, we are learning all different things on Microsoft Word, which is a playground for me. I actually love working on this part of the course because for the most part I understand it and I can actually DO it. Matter of fact today, I typed up a wonderful letter according to the instructions, complete with all the appropriate bells and whistles, even the italics and the bold all where it was supposed to be, formatted so beautifully that the angels in heaven were weeping tears of joy. Problem was, it was question three I was supposed to work on, not question two. Sigh.....but it was such a lovely letter... More adventures for you later. Keep on keepin' on, ♥Sue.

Well Wasn't That Exciting!!

A few days ago it happened again; the fire alarm sounded. I thought I had made it perfectly clear what my views were on fire alarms~ if my ass wasn't on fire than leave me alone. Problem was, that was not the fire alarm~ it was, we thought, the lock down alarm~ the alarm that sounds when there is danger present in the school. Our instructor told us to start the lock down procedure, and I will not get into it here for obvious reasons, but as we did what we were trained to do, the look on our instructor's face was enough to tell me this was apparently not a practice run. I stood there looking at each person in the room with me, and their expressions ranged from a look of disbelief to fear to resignation, but on each person's face I could also see a look of 'What if this is the real deal? What if there is a gunman in the school?' At this point I have to say I am very glad I had stopped to use the 'litterbox' before that class, otherwise there possibly would have been a more pressing problem to deal with as panic usually makes my bladder go into overdrive, and as far as that goes, I actually defy anyone to say that a situation like that would not test the capabilities of even the best adult undergarment on the market. Also, I have to say, I am extremely proud that I stayed completely calm instead of my usual screaming like a girl when the pressure gets too bad; and yes I know I am a girl, but I have to tell you I am the reason this saying came into effect. I can break plate glass windows when I am properly geared up. Anyway, as we stood there, each thinking our own thoughts, I had words flitting through my head like 'Montreal shootings' and 'Columbine shootings' and even though we live in Upper Middle Podunk, Canada, there is no reason to believe we are exempt from the violence that has pervaded the rest of the world. It is a sad thing that we do not have the reassurance that earlier generations had, I can remember when I was a kid that there was never a need to lock a door, people just never encountered the need to have a suspicion of anyone. I am saddened that future generations will never know that kind of security. As the moments wore on, it became increasingly clear that this was a false alarm. People were back in the hallways, voices could be heard, even laughter a couple of times, so we cautiously began to see what the problem was, and come to find out, it was the burglar alarm that had malfunctioned. Whew. I don't know about anyone else, but the relief I felt hit me like a boxing glove to my stomach. I tried very hard to be all 'Yeah, I wasn't scared', but I am pretty sure that the look on my face told everyone a different story, and yeah, truth be told, I was friggin' terrified. It was a good practice run for just in case the real thing ever happened, and as I looked around at the room at all the people I had just met, and some of the ones I already knew, I can remember saying a little 'thank you' to God that nothing horrible happened, because in that moment of silence when we were all standing huddled together I can remember very clearly thinking that even though we had mostly all just met this month, there was not a single person that had not left their signature on my heart, and I really could not imagine giving up any one of them. So to all my friends~~ you are da bomb and I think the world of you. Love and peace all, and keep it real. More for you later. ♥Sue.

Technology, part 1

I first got my computer about five years ago, and was absolutely STUPID as to how the thing worked and what I could do with it and on it. I can remember at around ten o'clock at night on the second night of having it just trying to get something to appear so I could figure out where I was with the thing, and the more I clicked the more I was getting it knotted up to the point where I could no longer get anything more on the screen, it was just that messed up. Needless to say I was in a snit. And not just your average, run of the mill snit, this was a snit to the nth degree; epic even by my standards. I called my newfound torture device a few choice words, no, I take that back, I called the bugger everything but free, pure and twenty one and then I just left it there to fester in it's hatefulness while I went to another room and continued my 'discussion' there. When I finally ran out of steam I came back to the computer, fervently praying that there was a clear screen now where there had been total chaos a few minutes ago, but no, still as messed up and still just as immovable. Well now what? I thought briefly about taking it outdoors to the parking lot and driving over it, but the frugal voice in my head spoke up and mentioned just how much I had dropped for this thing and I decided there were probably more prudent ways to deal with the problem. By now it was going on to eleven o'clock, way too late to call my computer friend who could have told me what to do to remedy the situation, and who, by the way had taken computer in college and could make one sit up and beg for it's life if she wanted to, so I thought of the next best thing~~ call the computer manufacturer's hot line and see if they could help me. Do you know just how much useless paper there is that comes with a computer? I started taking the boxes apart to read the literature in hopes of finding the one-eight hundred number that meant my freedom from the satanic beast that had taken up residence on the desk in my bedroom, and found probably enough papers to put a complete tree back together, and somewhere in that paper storm I found A NUMBER to call. I dialed it, fervently praying that I could rouse someone long enough to get this mess straightened out and I reached Shirley. Or Sarah, or what ever, I do remember it was a woman with an 'S' name. I recounted my whole story that basically went like this~~ 'I can't get my computer to show anything except a big bunch of stuff!! Please help.' Shirley, or what ever, gave me this gem of wisdom~~ 'Push the button on the back, but you didn't hear that from me if the computer malfunctions.' I told her the secret would die with me and that I owed her a debt of gratitude, and I hung up and immediately started looking for a button on the back of my tower. At this point I can remember thinking that the powers that be must be bored with nothing better to do than to drive this poor mortal to near hysteria because as hard as I tried to push, pull, spindle and/or mutilate anything that even remotely looked like a button nothing happened because THERE WAS NO FREAKING BUTTON!!!! I had the wrong kind of computer to do that with. Twelve thirty and I have to be up at five to go to work. Oh my one last frayed, worn to a frazzle, burned up nerve. Once again I dove back into the mountain of paperwork that came with the demon and vowed that I would find some form of help, some scrap or tidbit of information that would tell me what to do. After reading everything once again I found the mother load!! It was the proper one-eight hundred number that would take me to the actual manufacturer, complete with troubleshooting. Just like on the opening of the Simpson's the clouds parted and the angels sang their glorious praise, and I dialed the number with renewed hope that I would solve my problem and once again see that all would be right with the world. I was put on hold. Oh My Freakin'....well I am sure you know the rest. It was now a waiting game. The clock seemed to be leaping forward towards five a.m. when I would be needing to get up, so I started bargaining with the phone's elevator music in order to speed things up. 'I will never call you elevator music again if you will just go get me a live human being'...'I will make sure I tell who ever it is I talk to that you deserve a raise'...(I was dead tired by now so it seemed very logical to talk to elevator music)...'I have coooooooooooookieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees'...yes, even bribing a soundtrack seemed the right thing to do, and finally...it happened!!! 'This is Eric, how may I help you?' 'Are you real?' I screamed back, not daring to actually think I had reached a live person, and then without warning my whole sad life just poured out, culminating in the problem with my computer.I was tired and emotionally drained and at this point not really caring that I sounded like a raving lunatic. Once he finally sorted the actual problem out from all the other mess I unloaded on him he told me the solution~ go turn off the computer and turn it back on. There was silence for what seemed like an eternity, but was in actual fact probably about three seconds, while my poor riddled brain tried to process what he just said. 'That's it?' I asked, 'That's it' he said. I did what he told me, waited another eon while the computer started back up and Oh Em Gee, there it was!! My screen just as unblemished as the day it was brought into this world. I thanked Eric profusely, and somewhere in my tired rantings seem to remember telling him my first grand child would be his along with the best camel in my herd, and I hung up. Totally relieved and dead-dog tired. This was close to two o'clock by now. I crawled into bed, closed my eyes for what seemed like thirteen minutes, and got up when the alarm went off and slogged off to work. I can recall someone asking me if I was having a good time playing with my computer. 'Oh yes', I replied, 'This is the best fun I have had in forever!! I am having a blast!! I am so glad I finally bought one.' I then proceeded to go out and shoot their tire.

Donna

We have a den mother at my institution of higher learning. (What do you think of that wordifying?) Her name is Donna, and she may want everyone to think she is just a cafeteria manager, but I know she is waaaaaaaaaay more than that. She works with a woman named Shirley, and together she and Shirley make culinary magic that is the reason the seat of my pants is starting to feel like it has been spray painted to my buns. She makes home-cooked meals that would make any mother jealous and envious, and no matter what time of day you arrive at the school you can smell something wonderful coming from the kitchen. I usually get to the college about and hour ahead of classes, which would be between 7:30 and 7:45 and already she has warm cookies on the counter that call to you like the song a mermaid bewitched her sailors with, and I defy anyone with a nose that is in proper working order to NOT find themselves in the cafeteria buying one; or two;......ok fine or three. Donna knows everyone's name. Even all the new people who have just started. She knows your spouse, your kids, where you come from and probably what you have for a pet. She will ask about your kid's cold, your yard sale, how you made out at the local trivia competition, and so many other little things that make it feel like you have known her all your life. She will sing to you, laugh with you, she is always laughing, make you smile and generally give you the impression she has known all along you would sooner or later show up at her counter, it was just a matter of time. She also has the uncanny knack of understanding when one of her famous cookies will do a soul as much good as it will do a body. She will offer one of those treasures when she sees someone struggling with what ever demon has them in its grip, her way of making things better for, and lessening the punch of, what ever it is that has you bothered or upset. I often think that if I pass my course and move on to what ever job I acquire from the benefit of my training, I will have Donna to thank for my success as much as my instructors. They may have taught me the mechanics of the business world, but I have learned that Donna, if you watch her from day to day dealing with all manner of people from behind her counter, will teach you the human side of how the world works, and you will benefit greatly if you just pay heed to the lessons she gives. The are free to anyone who wants to pay attention to them, and very, very valuable.

FIRE!!!

It was fire drill day today. Yay. A few things before I get on to the actual fire drill. The first is, I am ALWAYS cold. In the summer when everyone else is down to their nickers and sweating like a... well you know what barnyard animal I mean, I don't think it is politically correct to say the name pig, so I will let you fill the blank in, anyways, when it is just that hot, I am comfy. Not sweltering, not gasping for air, COMFY; and it gets worse the closer winter gets. The colder the weather gets the colder I get, to the point that I would gladly pay money for a small animal or even a petite sized human being to take up residence in my coat with me just so I could siphon off some of their body heat to supplement my own. I really, really...REALLY hate the cold. Another thing before I get to the fire drill story is a fact about myself. I am not what you could call 'petite', under any circumstances. Frankly, I am fat. Hope that terminology doesn't upset you because that is the word I use for the size I am. All other words that mean 'fat' are just polite descriptions in a catalogue. On to the fire drill story. We were in last class, which was business, all learning about things like gross domestic products and how to be Amish and so on when the fire drill noise rang. We had been given a bit of a head's up about this happening and were prepared, but still when it actually rang we were all (very methodically and calmly) heading for the door to exit the building. Frankly, I was all for staying in there and pretending to be a casualty, since those kinds of drills happen, you know, the ones where the fire people come across a person playing a heart attack victim or a person who had a heart attack from the bell ringing. I could be a very convincing heart attack victim if they would just let me stay in the room, but nooooooooooooooo, out you go with the rest of the skinny warm people. FINE! I head out the door with everyone else, down the hall, down the stairs, out the door into the freezing cold I like to refer to as September, standing near others so that I could hopefully suck some of their warmth from them without them noticing, all the while thinking that even though I love my school, excuse me, community college, a tiny little fire maybe in a waste paper basket or in the very middle of the floor of an unused room would have been just the thing to warm me up, but, alas, that would be asking too much of even the most tolerant faculty members there, so I endured the torture of standing huddled in the cold while everyone else stood in short skirts and sandals and talked about their classes, their boyfriends, Twitter(which is a hot topic at the moment), what was for supper, and so on. Very abnormal way to dress for this time of the year if you ask me. We were given the all clear that the 'fire' had been contained and to go back to class. Back in, all the way back up the stairs, allllllll the way back down the hall to our room. Fat people really don't like the stairs, or at least this one doesn't, so being the professional I am, I endured yet another round of torture compounded with the torture of being sent out into the Arctic conditions in the first place, and went back upstairs with a bare minimum of rather unprofessional phrases being whispered so that only I could hear them. Oh well, it was all for our benefit I guess, I would never want to find out that we were unprepared and someone was seriously hurt, I have met some really great people and am really starting to get the hang of how to refill a water bottle at the re-hydration station (water fountain for all you old-school people)so for all of you who now are my new friends, this selfless act was for you; don't waste it, and don't expect it all the time. All is well now, I am home and changed into three pairs of fuzzy jammies and a bathrobe, drinking a molten cup of hot chocolate, and warming up nicely. When I finally can feel the tips of my fingers I will crack the books again. Turning pages with my lips tends to make the pages soggy and gives me paper cuts on my lips. Anyhoo, it has been a slice talking with you all, another adventure will, I am sure, present itself tomorrow, so until then, later days friends, ♥Sue.

Seriously~~ Am I crazy??

I am back in school. I am forty-eight dusty, time-worn years old and I am back in school. Things have certainly changed over the past three decades. I am not in a 'vocational school' I now attend 'community college', I do not have 'teachers' I have 'instructors',we have whiteboards not blackboards, we call the instructors by their first names, there is no home room, you do not need to ask permission to go to the bathroom, and unlike most cafeterias, the food here is freakin' awesome!! There is one thing about being this old~~ I could be most of these people's grandmothers. That just freaks me out. It seems to me that the kids, and I really mean kids, should still be in elementary school, they seem that young to me, but here they all are, sitting beside the resident dinosaur, typing eight hundred and seventy four words a minute to my sorry thirty seven, texting while they are doing it and Facebooking at the same time. While they are doing all that I am struggling to find the delete button. This would be my second full week here, I am officially learning Business Administration and also unofficially learning that I am greener than a spring tree about all this stuff. Oh pardon me, the correct terminology would be 'all this information'. Seriously though, I have never in my life felt so overwhelmed or unprepared for anything as this. It has been a riot just trying to get my stupid locker open due to the fact that trying to get the combination right on my lock is a feat of magic just by itself. Note to self~~ buying a combo lock because it looks pretty does not mean it will open any easier. Dang. Should have bought one that opens with a key. Oh well, the next carreer I sign up for I will have to remember that. Anyways, I have to go put my nose in a book or sixty, so later days, friends, I will write more for you soon. ♥ Sue.