This week officially begins Spring Break. Not that it means anything to a graduate student. All it means is that we get a whole week off to catch up with all of the reading and homework we haven’t been doing in the beginning of the semester because of family deaths and writing papers and what not. I will also be doing some wedding stuff this week. All I can. Hopefully, we’ll all be able to go tuxedo shopping next weekend–“all” being James and his best man and myself. I would like to have some input to the men’s attire, after all. Although we have discussed it, and his preferences seem to fall into line with my overall vision, so that’s good. Hopefully, we’ll get the wedding bands taken care of this week, as well as finding out more church-related information. That being, talking to my dad about his priest friend who we’d like to perform our marriage, talking to our priest and taking the Catholic compatibility test, and beginning to figure out the specifics of the ceremony itself. I also need to find out about our marriage license situation. According to the information I have unearthed so far, there’s a waiting period of five days to get the thing, and it’s only valid for a month. Unfortunately, we were only planning a mid-May trip back there before our July 5th journey to complete the nuptials. Which means, we’ll either have to get them to make an exception for us, or take another trip up, which might be more than we can afford. Sigh.
In other news, and the inspiration for the title of this post, I’ve been having a tough time with my poetry of late. I haven’t been feeling very creative. I’m unsatisfied with many of the poems I’ve written, and my other, more visual creative pursuits have left me feeling kind of mundane. I don’t feel very innovative or exciting. I’m trying to work on that. And I hope that I can come up with some more brilliance.
On an unrelated note, brunch. James and I went and had brunch today at Kilroy’s, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve been so full. More full than after eating Chipotle, even. I’m barely even hungry now, and it’s about dinner time. We were bad. We had bacon and omelets and waffles filled with stuff and fruits and muffins and hash browns and biscuits and eggs benedict and pasta and sausage and grits and chocolate mousse. Damn. We were bad. We didn’t even go to the gym today (we’ll go tomorrow, promise!), and I took a nap when we got home. Food coma. Not conducive for catching up with reading and writing. Very bad. I am really going to try to make a valiant effort to eat better and lighter, exercise and stuff so I can lose that ten or fifteen pounds before July. It will not be easy. But perhaps, now that the cookies are almost gone from the house, a little bit easier than it’s been the last few weeks.