Final.

So.

Class sessions with Dr. Evil Professor have ended. My presentation kicked ass and my research paper has been submitted.

Now I just have to do the final. 6 out of 12 multi-part questions due by 5 on Thursday. But he's letting us email them in so I didn't have to go all mental trying to get back over to campus to turn the damn thing in.

My plan is to get up early in the morning and crank the bad boy out so I can spend the rest of a beautiful day in my yard. I've got limbs to pick up, leaves to rake and bag, weeds to pull already, and lavender plants to fuss over. Plus, there's always more dog poo that needs scooping up.

The daffodils will be making an appearance tomorrow, I think. Remember that old Mervyn's commercial where the woman was at the door, faced mooshed up against the glass, and she was tapping on the door with both hands saying, "Open, open, open"? That's me with those daffodils. So far I'm seeing bright yellow petals. But there are some late bloomers that just now broke soil. Did I buy a variety pack? Oooh! I can't wait to find out! (And damn those cute little squirrels that DUG UP and CARRIED OFF some of my daffodil bulbs! I know it was winter and your fuzzy selves were hungry but eating my spring bulbs was just meeean, ya'll.)

I think I might go watch some Father Ted episodes. I'm not Catholic, nor Irish (at least to my knowledge) but this show cracks me up.

Later!

Sexy or elegant? Maybe both.

DB and I are having a bit of a debate. I think my new coffee percolator is sexy. He thinks it's elegant. Maybe it's both.

Been looking for a percolator for awhile and, of course, I wasn't happy until I found a classic percolator. One that had been around for a long time. One that had a goose-neck spout (because the new percolators have a little lip-type spout at the top that makes you stand the damn thing practically on it's top to get the last drops of coffee out and THAT sucks). One that had some style, grace, and the ability to beautify it's spot on my kitchen counter.

Web searches, home goods stores, Target, Mejier...none of these sources had what I was looking for. Then, 'lo-and-behold, I saw it. In the window of an antique shop here in town.

And it was beautiful.

So I made it mine. Here it is, people, the newest edition to my old-shit-that-I-use-every-day-because-damn, isn't-it-fan-bloody-tastic:

Tucked inside was an old cloth-covered cord that looked like it was original to the machine. And the percolator itself looked barely used. Someone took very good care of it. DB said it looked like it could've been a wedding present that was hardly ever used. I think he really digs my percolator. And I know I've typed it a lot, but percolator is such a fun word. Like pincers.

Anyway. Do you know who I blame for my obsession with all things old? I blame DB. He lives in a 1920s kit-house bungalow that is cute x 3. And it is filled to the brim with fantastic old stuff that was his Grandpa's. And I love the old stuff in his house so I am trying to acquire my own old stuff. Granted, I'm not stuck in the mission/arts and crafts decorating style like DB is. Because my house has no such style. It's just a plain-Jane old house. So I'm acquiring all this eclectic-but-old stuff and, along the way, enjoying the hell out of myself.

In other news:

I've only one class left with Dr. Evil Professor. This class will consist of listening to other classmates' lectures, handing in my research paper, and getting my take-home final. I'm taking a day off work to complete it as it's an essay final and I won't have time to complete it during the ONE EVENING I have to do it. I get the exam end of class Tuesday and have to turn it in at 5:30 on Thursday. Yeah, my class-mates voted on this bright idea. I wanted to kick asses that day, let me tell you. Because who hates writing about criminology theories? I do.

I've also got only one more Spanish class. I may not have to take the final exam. This would be a good thing as part of the exam is oral. I can read and comprehend what we've covered, but I have no confidence speaking the language.

My daffodils are getting close to blooming. I'm thrilled to bits about this. They've got the little flower-pods already, they just need to finish cooking so they can bloom. And the really nice part of this? I can't remember what color I planted. Did I buy all yellow? Or the light yellow with the cream centers? It's like Christmas in April.

Except it snowed today so hopefully they're not going to say, "Screw this! I'm not coming out in THIS shit." Be just my luck.