Six days

Is it a law that if you are a native-Montanan that 85% of your jokes revolve around something called Blue-Collar Comedy? I can't tell you how many times I heard the phrase, "Git'er done" in the last two weeks. I didn't get it at first, but then the kind locals filled me in.

So I'm done in Virginia City, for now. My two weeks there, redneck comedy aside, were freakin' great. Virginia City, for those who don't know, is a place in the middle of nowhere where time has been frozen since 1863. It's a Wild West town, complete with historic structures and whores on every corner. The whores part isn't true, but where would the Wild West be without gross exaggeration? But seriously, Virginia City is awesome. Picture the Grand Canyon episode of the Brady Bunch when the old geezer traps the in the jail in the ghost town and Mike saves everyone with his awesome boot-rope trick and the old geezer repents and maybe I need to watch TV from my generation. Anyways, picture that ghost town but with people and tourism and the best candy store ever.

Anyways, I enjoyed Virginia City (I love the Bradys and Elvis; I'm clearly the Queen of Kitsch). Enough so that I'll be living there for another three weeks later this summer to do some consultant work. Which is saying a great deal, since I won't have much internet access and absolutely no cell service (unless I'm willing to drive 8 miles out of town. Which I will).

So now I'm on vacation-ish for the next few days. I put in my qualifier since I still have work and deadlines, but I'm doing them (a) outside of Pullman and (b) sitting in front of a big-screen TV. Oh, I'm at my dad's. He has 5 billion channels to go with his big-screen. And since I have no willpower, I had to leave his house this morning and do my work at the coffee house, lest I was tempted to watch the Scrubs marathon that I DVR'ed. DVR'd? Whatever.

I'll be heading home later this week after completing a few more research trips and going to a job interview somewhere else in Montana. I feel semi-guilty about not going home earlier, since my cat has been missing the whole two weeks I've been gone. She doesn't like it when I leave, and once she saw the luggage, she took off. I'd be more worried, but she did this last summer for 5 weeks or so and came back once I got back into town.

But rest assured, Pullman people, I will most likely be home on my birthday. Which is in less than a week. There will be a get-together, so keep Saturday night free. Maryanne will be letting everyone know the details, but I'll give an overview now: presents are welcome. They won't make me feel awkward at all, so load me up. For those having trouble shopping, I like cash. And if you can't make the party, or I chose not to invite you, presents are still accepted. Hop to.

Commence the commencement

First, congratulations to my sister, who graduates from law school today! Whoo-hoo! We will have a lawyer in the family, which might come in handy if anything illegal is done by someone while she is in Graceland this summer. Not that anyone would attempt to steal anything. Or do anything inappropriate while in the hallowed halls. But maybe I'll just keep Jen on speed dial.

So I'll be going to her graduation ceremony later today. And I actually love graduation ceremonies. I pretty much love any ceremony. I like productions. This will be my second graduation ceremony in two weeks (congrats, Sarah, by the by) and I'm okay with that. Maybe it's because I've been in school 80 years, but I really appreciate all the work that goes into graduating. And I kind of like the robes.

Anyways, I take off tomorrow for Montana. To do work/school stuff. I'll be gone from Pullman, the ghetto, and the Fat Skirt for three weeks. Ish. Or whenever I decide to come home. Of course, with my birthday just a mere three weeks away and the promise of my very own pumpkin cheesecake, safe money says I'll be back by June 2.

And people who are going with me to Montana, don't mock. I packed as lightly as I could. Yet there is still acres of stuff to be loaded into the car. In my defense, they told us to pack for all four seasons of weather, plus I have to take my own research and other work to do, bedding, towels, Elvis blow-up doll, clothes for the the week following Montana when I'm on the road, etc. One of those is a joke, but I won't tell you which. Let's just say that I won't have cell service or cable, so I have to be prepared.

Ok, I have to pay some bills, vacuum the house, and shower before heading off to begin the graduation day festivities. And by festivities, I mean food. Because, really, that's all I care about.

The Inner Dork

Cell phones, as it turn out, are expensive. Especially if you aren't signing a new contract and the cell companies don't want to give you huge deals as incentives to sign said new contracts. Which is my way of saying I have no new phone. Luckily, my phone was still under warranty and I get a replacement of the exact same model.

And it's nice to know that while warranties don't cover acts of God, they do cover my idiocy by dropping a phone in water. But couldn't that be argued to be an act of God? Since God is omnipotent, couldn't He have controlled where the phone went? He could have had it fall onto the floor, but it didn't. Therefore, God wanted it in the sink. Therefore, act of God. No, wait. Then I don't get covered under warranty. Pretty tricky, God.

So my new/replacement phone will be here soon-ish. Whenever I can be home when the Fed-Ex guy shows up. I have a loaner phone for now. And I hate it and its stupid ring tones. No one wants to hear the Can-Can. Which is this phone's best option. But probably people don't want to hear Europe's "The Final Countdown" when I have my regular phone.

Moving on.

Last night, a group of us went for drinks and dinner as the final "Girls' Night" of 2006-2007. We're all leaving in the next few weeks, so this was our last shot. And really the emphasis should be on the drinks portion, and not so much the dinner. I won't get into all the details, but at one point we we're reminiscing about our childhoods and the wonder that is Vacation Bible School. VBS, for those in the know. We might have sang some of the songs. And I might still remember all the actions to accompany "This Little Light of Mine" and "I Just Thank You, Father, For Making Me Me." Wow, God is all front and center in this post. Go, God.

Next, we went for ice cream. Which we ate in the car outside of Zip's. I'm not really sure why, but I'm fairly certain it was my idea. At one point, Maryanne thought two guys were going to throw down in the parking lot. As it turns out, they were discussing purebred dogs. When they were comparing their bitches, they were referring to their dogs, not their "Bitches." Good times.

And Zip's might need to have someone proofread their cups. These cups announce that Zip's has been around "Since 53'" when probably they meant "Since '53." Unless they didn't meant 1953 so much as 53 feet. Or maybe that's some awesome slang that I'm not in on. Damn you Pullman, for isolating me and reducing my cool level. Can I blame Pullman for that? There might be a longer history there, starting with my six inch thick glasses that I got when I was 7, my love for the Brady Bunch, and the fact that I give high fives. Sigh. Bet you all wish you could roll with me.

Sounds like a bluetooth to me

Guess what I get to do today? Buy a new cell phone!

Apparently, if you get too excited after The Sopranos, and don't watch what you are doing, you might accidentally drop your cell into a sink full of water. And phones don't always like that.

Mine is broken.

But the glass half full outlook is: new phone for Ace! So don't call me until around noon today, because I won't have a phone until my lunch break. Damn, I hope all of my ringtones transfer over, because I'd hate to have to download all new ones. I really enjoy when "Copacabana" warns me that my work is calling. And my students sure get pumped when I forget to turn my phone to silent and "Going the Distance" comes thundering out of my bag. It just happened once. Oops.

So I guess a new phone will be my birthday present to myself. My birthday is in less than four weeks, so it's nice that the presents are starting to come rolling in. And for those of you invited to the party, Maryanne says that this year I get my own pumpkin cheesecake that I don't have to share with anyone. At all.

Speak up, sonny!

I enjoy crossword puzzles to an inordinate degree.

I can only have decaf after 10 am, or I'm kept up too late.

I go to Elvis Tribute concerts.

I think Early Bird specials are rewards for eating at a "normal" time.

I OWN a cane. Own.

But the biggest reason I am an 88 year-old woman trapped in the body of a 27 year-old: I had to tape ALL of Must See TV last night, because it was on too late.

That's right. The Office, My Name is Earl, and Scrubs are sitting on a VHS tape (oh, add that to my AARP membership that I still have to tape things on my VCR) at my house because 8 pm is clearly too much for little blue-haired Ace.

I was in bed while the sun was still semi-up. Even my cat found me creepy, and refused to come to bed when I turned in. And I say "turned in." Jesus help me. There is a walker somewhere with my name on it.

We can't all be winners. Just me.

I have super exciting news! Hold on to your hats, because you are all about to be blown away. I have just received word that I am a Yahoo winner!

I won something!

And I feel that it is (a) totally justified, since I am a winner and (b) totally legit, since the winning notification was incredibly vague, sent by email, and tossed into my junk mail file.

Usually I just delete this file every 20 minutes or so once it fills up with 250 junk emails, but today, I actually opened it up. And found out that I am a winner! How many other winning emails have I neglected because I assumed if it was junk mail it was, well, junk?

Ok, and what's up with all my junk email being dated in the future? For example, I have an email that was allegedly sent on Monday, January 18, 2038 at 6:31 pm. This was actually my winning notification email. I'm getting messages from the future now. Awe. Some. Hey, it just occurred to me that maybe I'm not a winner until 2038. Damn.

So I was checking my junk mail file for a good reason. I had to register to vote on best blogs. You should all go vote for Stacy's site for best photography blog. You have to register, though, and they send you a confirmation which goes straight to junk mail. Which is why I had to look in that file.

After voting for Stacy, you should then go through her photos and find presents for me. I love the tulips photo, any of the Golden Gate bridge photos, and the forest trail. And my birthday is coming up. In case I forgot to mention that.

Whatt kind of moroon leafes in tpyos?

So I was just re-reading some old posts (because that seemed like a better use of my time than grading the mounds of finals on my desk) and noted a discrepancy.

And by discrepancy, I mean issue.

I neglected to run spell-check a few posts ago. So my hil-arious mockery of Alec Baldwin's voice-mail looked like a drunken five year-old typed it up. And while I should take the blame for this, I choose instead to pass it on to you, the reader.

Please to be alerting me when there are issues. I cannot be held responsible for my actions. I teach U.S. history, I know how this goes. It's a little thing called passing the buck. Consider that buck passed. Really, readers, what can I say? You disappoint me.

Speaking of disappointments, I thought today was Thursday. It's Wednesday. Damn.

Oh, and I've already changed my mind. Welcome to the wonderful world of Ace. I don't actually want to be notified if I've made any mistakes. Because that will shatter my view that I never make mistakes. See how that works?

Hey, one month until my birthday! How early is too early to post the present list? I'm probably good to go by typing it up now, considering I've been doing a birthday countdown since June 3. Maybe I'll put that up tomorrow. I know, you can hardly wait! FYI, I accept early presents. And cash always makes a fine gift.

May Celebrations

Happy May 1st! Today would have been Elvis and Priscilla's 40th anniversary. If they hadn't gotten a divorce (who would leave Elvis?). And if he hadn't "died."

So happy semi-anniversary to them.

Today also marks one month and one day to my birthday. Just another odd parallel in my life and the life of The King. Weird, isn't it?