get me some schoolin

Howdy.

So, it’s learnin’ time again. I spent the whole summer being dumb! And also walking. Now I need to get back to school.

This quarter, I’m definitely going back to open woodshop. I need to start my bed, the one whose design I stole from this very internet. I’m glad the class doesn’t start til the end of October, as I cannot afford the very fine lumber until then. As you may know, I have not made furniture before. In fact, I made exactly one thing in woodshop to date, but it turned out well enough to make me think I can do this pretty easily. As usual, I make up in determination what I lack in skill.

So my other intention was to take an introductory auto-maintenance class, to begin pursuing my dream of owing a very sexy classic car one day, complete with a hood scoop and a big fat racing stripe down the middle. I know a very cool girl who has been waiting to take this class with me as well. But all the community ed programs offer is ‘Auto Maintenance for Women’. Thank you, but no. I have asked the Twin Cities to help me in my pursuit of this opportunity.

I found a couple other interesting class options, and one that I’m after with the most zest would be this:

OK! I’m hyperventilating. Now, there are too many good things here to pass up. First of all, I do need to learn to express myself in wood. How did they know? I’ve already decided I’m going for the duck. And we get knives! How can you go wrong? I’m going to wear mine in a sheath strapped around my leg, so that I will have it at the ready for any whittling emergency. This is too good to miss.

I wish community ed had banjo lessons, because I’d be there in a second.

Today I was bored to death at work, because I finished everything but felt too guilty to leave. So in between answering every email in my inbox and trip-planning, I started making a mental catalogue of my stupid injuries. Besides the to-be-expected overuse issues (my ankle and hip), I have some interesting remembrances from the 3day.

The toenail of my big toe is completely bruised underneath, which means at some point I’ll lose it just as I’ve lost half the fingernail on the finger I slammed in my car door. This just happened last night, and all day I’ve been peering at it in horror and disgust, then holding it as far away from me as possible and shaking it to see if maybe the whole finger will fall off. I mean, I have a minor freakshow attached to my body. This is upsetting. Also, my sister, who is immune to medical queasiness in any way, cannot even stand the thought of my fingernail issue. She says it reminds her of the stories about torture methods in concentration camps. For god’s sake, nobody should have an injury that reminds people of the holocaust. Nobody.

In addition, I was convinced last night that I had contracted a severe, localized case of dandruff. Then I realized it’s my scalp peeling from the sunburn. I find this especially amusing since I’ve never gotten a sunburnt head with my hair parted in the usual fashion. I must have a part-tan-line! It was only when I wore it parted down the middle in pigtails that I got burnt. Strange.

This doesn’t interest you a bit, does it? Moving on.

The 3day posted event photos. I wish they’d publish the route map. That’d be something to see, because I know I almost died the first time I saw it.

I was there! The finish line.

They also posted the inspirational quotes they had along the way. Yeah, most of them were trite, but as far as I know none actually incited hugging, and that’s what counts. Anyway, here’s my favorite:

The one who says it cannot be done, should not interrupt the one doing it.

That’s right! Get out of the way.
Jenni