seriously, things I deserve on/after April 27. seriously.

dear p,

I have a terrible time with accomplishment for accomplishment's sake. PRESENTS! PRIZES! GIFTS! That's what deserve for finishing a thing which will earn me a lovely piece of paper and some letters which I'll never really put behind my name (whatever THAT is--the subject of my name is for another post). Additionally, I believe that there are things I should have to get me through the act of accomplishment because getting there is a battle in itself.

Please, I know. I am stuck in the level of development where material rewards work so well. All of the below are things I have, seriously, imagined. I'm embarrassed even thinking about writing them down, but WTF? nobody cares about your blog, anyway.

• This is the biggest (and most embarrassing): running through a field like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music. This is not even a joke. There will be tears and singing and maybe some delicate shrieking.


• Dancing, as if in a music video, to "I am Music" (Jill Scott and Common) Seriously, I know I'm not the only one who imagines doing a really hip audience-worthy dance routine to a seriously inspiring song, right? Right?


• And then... suddenly there are my BFF's (I don't limit BFF's, generally. There might be a BBFF and you know who you are) and a ticker tape, um, party? With giant frosty fruity beverages...


• And...dinner at the fanciest restaurant in SLC (I'm LOL right now) where I am (suddenly 20 pounds skinnier) in a, some kind of great dress. Whatever, I don't know. The exams will also magically allow me to walk in 3 inch heels.


• And then the job offers pour in...

Here's the one that most alarms/intrigues me because it just popped up yesterday. Tattoo! I've avoided this forever because I never could figure out what I want (and I thought, eh, there's nothing I want forever, etc) and then I had an idea and here's where I'm partly hiding behind my comforter because this could be seriously embarrassing to reveal:

"Ut Pictura Poesis"

Which means (in my slightly more poetic) translation "as a picture, so is poetry". But I want it in that sexy, pretty scripty stuff running down (the really ouchy) inner forearm. So scripty and (Angelina-esque) gorgeous that it's not immediately readable. Seriously lame? Below is my pen drawing which is baaaaaaaaaaaaad. Also it would be half this size.

There's more, of course, which mostly is about what I get to wear to be examined (down to new new jewelry and shoes and dress and stuff) oh, and hair cut and pedicure and... Lordy, I need to go study. I am annoying myself now.

Ciao, my sweetest pea,

p.