All-nighter

So my first Audio Production exam will not be taken until Thursday morning (online, no less) I am studying now to make sure I get it all done. Getting a jump on things (the study guide was just put out today) isn't really my style, but the sheer volume of info has turned me into a drooling, stuttering mess. Not to mention I am the fool in charge of compressing and submitting my group's first mix and my computer is acting as though it was built in 1972. So, I wait for my professor's emailed reply in hopes that he is still up (he has 2 year old twin boys and one on the way, I'm sure he sleeps at every available oportunity).

I don't know if it's because tomorrow is Valentine's Day and gooey feelings abound, but I am at a total fucking loss at how on Earth I got so lucky to find Ross. Case and point: I recieved a very encouraging email from my professor offering help in obtaining my dream internship in Nashville. This would require me to spend the majority of my summer there as well as pursue a career path that might unfold. I chose Nashville because it isn't full of tanned orange, silicon injected OC knock-offs like LA and it isn't as big and scary as New York. And quite frankly, I have couches to crash on (read: affordable). It is also up my alley music-wise and I don't want to end up schlepping around the city putting My Chemical Romance posters in every Virgin megastore within a 200 mile radius. I've been there. It isn't pretty. And besides, you can only get by on t-shirts and concert tickets for so long anyhow.

Anyway, back to the case and point. Yikes I got off track.

So I bring this to Ross and I don't even need to finish the thought before the man is on the Nashville Craigslist looking for houses. There wasn't a question in his mind that I would have his full support. Someday I will find a way to thank him for alllowing me to go conifdentally in the direction of my dreams...

We took Puck (the cat) to the vet today. She's nearing 10 and in perfect health. I have avoided taking her in for some time because it forces me to face up to her mortality. She is the perfect cat and everyone knows this. The thought of her not being here makes me instantly burst into tears, like I did when Dr. Feldman calculated her actual age (63). Enough about that, huh?

So, I'm getting fat again. Not like depressed fat, but a fat I can't really identify except that I'm focusing on other things. I eat very well. 5 times a day. More raw than I have been lately. I've been really working on getting some intended exercise in. I have found a nice long and varied running path. I'm woking on strength. I think it's the liquor and the fact that I don't focus on this every waking moment. At the moment, I have better things to worry about. But the alcohol, yeah, I'm going to have to start watching that. I want to be a college student AND in my mid twenties and that is what you call a really bad cocktail mix. So perhaps no more peppermint schnapps and hot chocolate at the top of the Hyatt downtown? No, can't do that. Not as long as it's this cold, anyway. Perhaps I can just live with some moderation.