This is terrible. Don't read it.

This morning, as Schmoobs and I were driving through campus on the way to work, I was surprised at the lack of fresh young coeds wearing shamefully revealing costumes in an effort to be accidentally-on-purpose enticing:

(Note: I totally asterisked a certain word. It's not even a REAL curse word, but I felt obligated to. I don't know. Woman power and all that. Also, my mother reads this blog.)

Me: "Hey, where the sl*tty ladies at? Hm. ...Maybe they only come out at night."

Schmoobs: * singing to the tune of Beyonce's 'Single Ladies' * "All the sl*tty ladies! (All the sl*tty ladies) All the sl*tty ladies! (All the sl*tty ladies) Now put your legs up!"

Me: "Hahahaha"

* I slap Schmoobs on the shoulder *

Me: "That was half a slap and half a high five."

We are terrible, aren't we?

In related news, Happy (unshackled) Eighth Anniversary to me and Schmoobliebonbons today! Eight years. My goodness. Four states, a puppy, three cars (me...), and some additional gray hairs later and we are still going strong. Olive juice, Schmoobs!

Also, Bela has the best Halloween costume by far this year: FRANKENKITTY!

Look at that gnarly scar down his back! That would be so attractive to the female kitties...not that he has any manly bits that would cause him to care about female kitties. (Sorry, Bela.) Anyway, he is recovering well. The vet and staff were very pleased with how well Bela did during and after surgery and they said the tumor came out very cleanly and easily. Good news! We'll find out in about a week what exactly the mass was. We took him home from the vet yesterday evening and he has been chilling in our spare room (Room of A Thousand Unpacked Boxes) ever since. We baby-gated the room against BB so that Bela could have a quiet, relaxing space to ride out his drug haze. They gave him some opiates after surgery, apparently. Poor drugged-out kitty! But he's doing well. Been sleeping most of the time and I've gotten him to eat a little bit of wet food and take his pain medication without problem. Hooray for Bela!

Lots of pictures.

Scenes from my fascinating (har) life from the past week (two weeks?):

Someone remind me again why I want to become a professor. Because I hate grading. Oh wait, someday I'll have a servant TA to do my grading for me. Ok, moving right along.

Look at my Beebla moments before I had to pack them both in the car to go to their vet check-up! There was much mewing and howling coming from that travel bag. Poor President of the Finer Things Club! This was the appointment where Bela had to get his Back Lump of Mystery checked out. ps. He goes in for surgery tomorrow morning! Eep! (But, again, at least it's not cancer. Yay!)

On the doctor's table. NOT a happy kitty.

Okay. So I got Chinese takeout last week, mainly so that Schmoobs could have convenient things to eat when he got home late from work. So, one night, he came home late from work (doy) and I showed him the copious Chinese-ish delectables in the fridge that he could heat up. He proceeded to empty out an entire large order tub (bucket? box?) of rice into a bowl. Upon seeing this, I shrieked calmly and in a slow, soothing tone said, "That's a lot of rice, hon. Trust me, you don't want that much. That whole thing is for like three people." Schmoobs agreed...and then promptly reached out with his right hand in a claw formation to grab half the mountain of rice and put it back in the rice tub. WITH HIS HAND, people. Like a feral human raised by monkeys in the jungle. Anyway, I quickly - again, in a calm, soothing voice - informed him that perhaps it would be a better decision to use modern utensils to scoop out some of the rice. 

But before he did I told him I had to take a picture so I could post it on my blog. 

Here is Bela being our night watchman while BB cleans her ladybits. The typical evening scene in our living room.

Schmoobs and I went to Keeneland a couple of weekends ago. We are in the land of thoroughbred horse racing after all. It was tons of fun. And I managed to win negative-ten-dollars of Schmoobs money! (It's all about keeping it positive, you guys.)

Statues of jockeys. They were like four feet tall - so probably life size? Hahahahaha. Who am I to be making short jokes??

Look at my brain vein on my forehead. It supplies the juices. (Wait, is that my brain vein or just an errant hair? Whatever. It was very sunny and I was sweating. Glistening, if you will.)

Schmoobs standing in front of the Paddock, where you can see the horses walk through before they head to their race.

The winning ticket! Negative ten dollars!

Inside - where you can make your bets, watch the races on the televisions, and buy booze/food.

I totally forgot to save this glass as a memento of our first visit to Keeneland and also Schmoobles' second day off (for reals) of work since August. Damn it. Oh well.

Isn't our front yard pretty? Look at all those autumn leaves! Equally beautiful is the fact that our landlord sends a crew of lawn guys once a month to take care of all the landscaping, so we don't have to worry about eventually raking and bagging all this prettiness up. Huzzah!

Want to know what my view is when I'm not either in class or sleeping? Ta da.

Look how cute! Bela's like, "Ugh. Peons."

Do you see? "Goats" magazine. Awesome. Also, I am very glad this "Goats" magazine was displayed amongst a selection of agriculture, farming, organic food, etc. publications and not, say, "Hustler" or "Penthouse." That would have been a whole different story.

I can't get over the prettiness of the fall colors here. In roughly ten seconds it's all going to turn gray and gloomy, but for now, it's so nice!

BB: "Look at me! I'm a seal! Arf arf arf."

Bela: "I am majestic."

Wheeeeeeee!

I totally fell asleep in the 8th with the score tied because of some Scotch I had with dinner. Oops. But when I woke up, all was well. Very well, indeed!

Good things that happened yesterday!

1. I got my Monthly Confirmation That I Am Indeed Without Child with minimal PMS-ing. Huzzah! I mean, I think it was minimal PMS-ing. How many times did I fantasize about punching poor Schmooblebottoms in the last week? Not that many, I think, so that's a good indicator. I'm sorry for ever visualizing my fist hitting your shoulder or face, dear Schmoobins! I loaf you lots and lots! But, you know...hormones and stuff.

2. Best of all: Bela's massive back lump is not cancerous! Yay yay yay! I got the phone call we were anxiously awaiting while driving home from teaching my afternoon class yesterday.

The vet was like, "Can you talk?"

And I was like, "Oh God Oh God Oh God that doesn't sound good..." - in my head.

But then in real life, I was like, "Well, I'm driving, but I can talk to you."

And then she was all, "Well, you can call me later and we can talk then if you want."

And I was like, "No no no. I want to know now."

And then she goes, "Okay. We received the lab results from Bela's biopsy..."

And my heart went up to the roof of my mouth and my voice went up three octaves as I was like, "...uh huuuuh..."

And she was like, "...and they didn't find any evidence of any cancer."

And then I was totally all, "YAAAAAAYYYY! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! I'M SO GLAAAAAAD!"

(I hate to break it to you, but this is totally how Ph.D. students talk. At least this one.)

Anyway, then she proceeded to tell me what it actually probably is and it involved long medical terms that have multiple occurences of the letter "x" and probably ending with "-ia" and involved white blood cells and a possible injury that happened to him over the summer. Something something. Long story short, we are still bringing him in to have the lump removed next Tuesday for precaution and assurance, especially considering Bela's distinguished age. But it's not cancerous! Hooray! Thank you to all of you that sent our President of the Finer Things Club good juju, happy thoughts and prayers, etc.

In the meantime, I have one more presentation/class discussion to attend to for my jazz theory seminar tomorrow and then I will feel like I can take a little time to post pictures and stuff on here. We went to go see pretty horsies and drink bourbon last weekend like good little Kentucky expats. So watch out for that. And also.....

GO GIANTS!!!

Scenes from a Saturday morning.

Scene I: Living Room

A couple of hours before Schmooblins has to leave for game day. He is sitting on the couch watching dog videos on his laptop while drinking coffee. I am sitting at the desk doing Medieval notation homework while drinking coffee. When suddenly...

Schmoobs: "OW!" *jumps up from couch*

I look up to see a wet spot on the couch.

Schmoobs: "I just burned the sh*t out of my balls!"

He seems okay. I look back down to continue my homework.

Schmoobs: "Ys! Waaah!"

I look back up to see Schmooblins standing in the middle of the living room with his pants pulled down by his knees.

Schmoobs: "I BURNED MY TESTICLES WITH COFFEE."

Trying to stifle laughter because I am a cruel girlfriend.

Me: "Well then, go change your pants! And your underwear!"

Schmoobs: "What? Why?!"

Me: "Because you'll be more comfortable!"

Schmoobs: ".....Eh, I'm going to take a shower later anyway."


*****

Scene II: Front Yard

BB is out front having her morning poop. She has traversed about half of the front lawn teeter-tottering with her arched back number twosies position.

Schmoobs: "Hey hon, can you go get a bag?"

Me: "Sure."

We notice that the last remnants coming out of BB's butthole are...liquidy.

Schmoobs: "I'm going to go pick up her poop and you wipe down her butt, okay?"

Me: "What?"

Schmoobs: "With like a paper towel or something."

Me: "Why do I always get the hard job?"

Schmoobs: "Fine, I'll wipe her butt if you pick up her poop!"

Me: "Okay!"

Long story short, I actually witnessed Schmoobliedoos wiping down BB's special area(s) with some paper towels this morning. My day is made. I only wish I had gotten a picture.

I demand Good Juju for the President of the Finer Things Club.

I order each and everyone who reads this blog to send good happy positive vibes to the Bela Monster. He has a big old freaky lump on his back near his right shoulder blade and he went to the vet today to get it biopsied. We'll find out what it is next week. The vet's initial thought was that it could be a vaccine-associated sarcoma, considering the location and Bela's age (a very distinguished almost-twelve). The good news is he is in absolute good spirits otherwise. Still eats his wet food breakfast like a demon in the morning - complete with copious head butts if I deign to fix myself a cup of coffee before he gets his morning feast - and seems in perfect health other than his back lump. We will hope for the best.

.....

I am freaking out!! Poor Belanator!!

.....

Maybe he has evolved into such an advanced species that he is growing a second head? Yes, that's it. Two-headed Bela! BB better watch out.

.....

Anyway, so think good thoughts please. I'd post this on Facebook, but sometimes Ye Olde FB gets annoying with all the emo-this and emo-that.


In other news, this past week of being a doctoral school has been tiring. See that? I can normally come up with a better word than "tiring," but for now, that's all I've got. I'm tired. The good part is that the majority of the reason I am so tired is because I foolishly* volunteered to give the first  required special topic presentations in my musicology seminar, which is taught by an older-ish female professor who has the reputation of being very demanding and extra-scrutinous (Real word? Meh.) of female students and who - in the 2 months I've been in the class - I haven't been able to get a good read on whether she likes me or not. (<--- That is not a properly formatted nor elegantly written sentence, but I don't care.) So, let's just say I was feeling a lot of pressure. Because I really really really want her to like me. And my brain. So then I proceeded to work my ass off for 6 days (because I volunteered a week before the presentation was supposed to be given...idiot!) to prepare a 30-minute presentation (that ended up being about 90-minutes instead...when you're talking about nineteenth-century glorification of Beethoven and his symphonies, there's a lot to say!) after which aforementioned scary and intimidating professor told me my presentation was "fascinating" and that I did a "good job."

Hooray! Huzzah! Hearts and butterflies flying out of every orifice!

So, in any case, I am tired, but I am satisfied. And now I get to sleep a little bit and then get to work on preparing a presentation in my jazz theory seminar on a chapter from the book "Conceptualizing Music: Cognitive Structure, Theory, and Analysis." Wheeeee! Grad school!!!


* Only kind of "foolishly" because, even though I was hating my life last week, now that it's done, I get to look at the course schedule for the rest of the semester and all the rest of the students listed who still have to worry about doing their presentations and I get to say, "Hahaha! I'm done, suckas!" Which was my strategy all along. See? I is smart.

Banal commentary on my life.

1. Hahaha. I said "banal.""B-anal." Hehehehee.
2. You know what I hate? When I see actresses on tv with really cute bangs. And then I think that if I were to cut bangs into my hair in a similar fashion, that it would look similarly cute and adorable on me. And it might! For like two weeks. But then those two weeks of cuteness are filled with an extra five minutes (groan...I'm lazy) of hairstyling obligations every morning followed by two years of having to deal with waiting for my hair to grow back out. Blagh. Also see: layers.
3. Related to number 2: I also hate hate hate having any hair in my face. So why would I think it is even a good idea to try bangs again for the zillionth time? Don't do it, Ysabel. Don't do it.
4. But seriously. I shouldn't try bangs again, right? Maybe?
5. Now that I have discovered Long Island Medium marathons on TLC at 2am, I am clearly done sleeping, at least in this stage of my life. Is she real? Is it fake? I don't care. It's entertaining. (She's totally real.) 
6. Is it Thanksgiving break yet? For reals. I need a good solid week of not using my brain. My brain is a little sore and chafed from overuse. Speaking of, anyone have any tips on choosing a topic on which to write a 30 page research paper for a graduate seminar that is so phenomenally abstract and esoteric, that we are now two months in and I still don't have any idea what the hell the point of that class is? I just know we throw the words "hermeneutics," "ontology" and "poesis" around way too often in that room. Ugh. I can BS a term paper with the best of them...but 30 pages worth? 
7.  You know what the only consolation is to it not being sandal weather anymore? The fact that it is hoodie and scarf weather. Hooray for that.

I saw Itzhak Perlman perform the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto last night. No big deal.

The best I could do was snap a quick (hopefully) unobnoxious iPhone pic while we in the audience were going crazy with wild thunderous applause. And if the photo comes out terrible because of insufficient light, just throw the photo into your favorite photo editing program to make it look artsy. Anyway. It was tremendous.

In other news, we have our first quiz in my Medieval/Renaissance Notation class today. WTF. I've read  literally hyperbolically ten trillion different ten-page definitions of what a conductus is (and, specifically, what makes it so goddamn special that it's not a motet or organum) and I still couldn't tell you. Well, I think I could, but it would involve me rambling for like twenty minutes and saying a lot of sentences that end with an upward inflection to indicate the fact that I'm not quite sure what I'm talking about.........?

I have 2 hours left to stare at this graph of the different Medieval rhythmic modes in hopes that it will seep into my brain and I can summon the information during this quiz while I stare at a thirteenth-century polyphonic conductus and transcribe it into modern notation. Serenity now! So I guess I should stop blogging.