I’m in a really happy mood today. Not totally sure why, but I’m going to take it.
I know my posts have been a little less regular the past couple of days, but I’m trying to stay on track. I have LOVED getting back in touch with all of you, and your outpouring of support, via emails and twitter DMs (and even a few comments) have been really appreciated.
I’ve got a few things in the hopper that I hope come to fruition soon, but in the meantime, it’s WEDNESDAY, so that means, Life Well Lived Wednesday!!! (LWLW) I hope to bring you some LWL goodies every Wednesday, either mine, or a guest post.
At this point, I have several friends who have told me they’re working on a post, but none who’ve FINISHED and sent one in, yet, sooooo, GET TO WORK, SLACKERS, and send me some of you life’s best moments.
Without further adieu, my LWL list… vol. 4
I’ve graduated from grad school (MEd) with a 4.0
I was always a good student. Certain times were better than others. I was really good at high school, lousy at community college, ABYSMAL at Statistics (I literally have NO idea what probability you have of rolling two sixes, but why are you playing with DICE you should be STUDYING SOMETHING IMPORTANT!)… But graduate school…
That was my THING.
It helped that I was super interested in the content, because it meant that I wanted to do well because I loved it… but I also just LOVE getting A’s. I LOVE getting 100% correct, and I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE being commended for my hard work.
So after the first semester came and went, and I’d managed to scrape up a 4.0, I just couldn’t stomach the idea of letting it drop. Paper after paper, and study after study, I just pushed so hard.
I’m incredibly proud of my efforts and my grades.
Lola drew this for me after graduation! (click for her DA page)
(That being said, I know that my maniacal efforts were a bit extreme, and I commend all students that work their hardest, balance their lives, and get marks to be proud of. I certainly don’t think a 4.0 makes me fancy… it probably just makes me crazy.)
I’ve eaten a crepe stuffed with nutella, after dark, on a street corner in Paris
We made a brief trip into Paris, during our summer in Spain a few years ago, and a childhood dream of mine came true.
It wasn’t the best crepe I ate on that trip.
It wasn’t the first crepe I ate on that trip.
It sure as hell wasn’t the last crepe I ate on that trip.
But walking up to the cart, ordering in French, sitting under a street light with my friends, late at night, watching the city bustle by us, awake and lively on a perfect Parisian summer night made it absolutely the best crepe I’ve ever had.
I’ve earned a memorable scar
I’m sure those of you who are a bit more rough-and-tumble have loads of scars, but I’m the type who avoids most situations that would permanantly mar my body. HA! I mean, I’ll do the occasional interesting outdoor or otherwise strenuous activity, but I can be timid and fearful of getting hurt which minimizes my risk for major injury.
So, how did I get this scar… Interestingly enough, I don’t remember EXACTLY what I was touching, but I was packing up my room. Leaving my mother’s house, my home, the place where I grew up to go and live on my own, and attend college. I’d have a room-mate for the first year or so, but it was my first time heading out and living away from home.
I reached into a box to move something, and a sharp object sliced into the side of my wrist.
It bled, but wasn’t terribly gruesome or painful.
But somehow, the scar, never faded… and I have a mark on my wrist that always reminds me of the risks (and rewards) of venturing out into new adventures, even when they’re scary.
I hope I get to feature someone else’s list next week!