My Feelings (Mostly Negative) About Ice.

What's that you say? It's the only known non-metallic substance that expands when it freezes? That it's an important part of global climate and the water cycle? That glaciers are pretty and stripey? 

I DON'T CARE! FUCK YOU, ICE!

Yesterday was the first time I've seen ice in probably years. It is ice, not snow, that drove me from New England. Think I'm exaggerating? I cried when I heard the words "wintry mix" uttered over the radio a couple of days ago. Cried! Like a baby! 

Ever since the day I slipped and fell on black ice outside the chapel of St. Catherine's School (since I'm already grumpy, I might as well mention: FUCK YOU SISTER SUSANNAH! I have had a happy and productive adulthood without learning how to write the letter "b" in cursive according to your arbitrary rules. Although I have lived in sin and no longer believe that Jesus is my Savior and for that matter, I assume the Pope is kind of a twat, so maybe you should have tried HARDER!), I have hated ice. 

I walk around like a little old lady which I always think is going to help but it DOESN'T, because if ice wants you, it will have you. And you can say hello to a bruised tailbone, is all I'm going to say. Nothing hurts more than a bruised tailbone, except maybe getting shot or having a baby or getting your toenails torn off or occasionally really bad indigestion which is NOT THE POINT, let us just say that it hurts. And that I really, really, have strong, distasteful feelings for that slippery stuff. Okay? Let us never speak of this again.

Except to say that here's a really suggestive image of a girl sucking on a icicle. Like, almost NAFW. This girl's going to be one hell of a troublemaker when she grows up.

Woohoo!

 Just got news that I was accepted at Brown for their MFA program in Fiction... with a $33,000 scholarship! I called Ilya to inform him, and after some mutual celebration and back-patting, he let me know that he'd flinched two rejection letters from the mail before I could see them-- Iowa and Michigan. Good thing he told me now-- I'm still floating on air!

I'm trying not to think about all this implies, though-- I love San Diego (contrary to my expectations)-- I have such great friends here, a beautiful apartment, three kitties I adore, and oh, yes, what's his name? That big guy who always leaves such a mess in the bathroom? Right. That one. On the other side, Brown is just the best program for me, writing wise. It's experimental, I've heard it's incredibly supportive, and, well, they want me. And who doesn't find that sexy?

I'm still waiting back to hear from a few places... Irvine, which is probably still my first choice, because it's A- Close, and B- one of the best programs out there. It's a little more traditional in style, so it's probably not the BEST fit, but it'd mean a lot less logistical problems and probably a little less heartache, too. I'm also waiting for Johns Hopkins, which has a fantastic program, and University of Virginia, which is up there too. But I'm kinda thinking that unless JH and UVA include two houseboys and a happy ending, I'm going to go with Brown if Irvine rejects me.

Oh, I'm all a-flutter. Hope you all are having wonderous good days!