So, in the course of choosing the paths I want to follow forward, it has occurred to me that I will need to take the GREs again. Apparently, the GREs are nothing like the SATs; they’re much more like a driver’s license, wherein it needs to be renewed every five years if you plan, academically speaking, to keep driving. So if I care to continue on with my studies, I will need to take them this summer in Vermont.
Dennis, on the other hand, is already moving forward. The big news is that he landed a great job with a huge production in New Haven; he started yesterday and he is in love with what he’s doing. It’s finally film, it’s finally full time, it’s finally paid, and it’ll be lasting the entire summer. I shan’t say the name of the production, nor how large the budget it, though I will say this: DeNiro, Pacino.
Dropped some big names there. I’ll give you some time to pick ’em up.
Needless to say, Dennis is thrilled. Even his voice is different. He sounds energized and excited and so glad to be following through with a dream of his. And I couldn’t be happier for him. I’m really excited to come home and see what he’s doing with his time. Actually, I’m really excited to come home and have him be the one who goes to work everyday while I don’t even bother to open my eyes to say goodbye. (Which is so not true, since I am a very good girlfriend and wake up when he leaves to go to work; unlike him, who is still snoring through my good-byes and have-a-nice-days.) Truth is, I’m just excited to come home. Tomorrow marks the official “One Week Left.”
And so. All’s well today. It’s Tuesday, it’s beautiful, and the cold seems to have gone away. With the exception of last night’s late-night traffic and broken fan episode… oh, did I not explain? The street noise last night was unbearable–waking me up at around midnight, though I’m not so sure about the time since I couldn’t bear to open my eyes to look at the clock and resorted instead to yelling over and over, “Why is this country so f-ing loud?” Then, when I tried to turn the fan on to drown out the noise, I realized it was broken. It’s now nothing more than a hunk of plastic and metal and a burnt out motor. I admit, I took my intolerance of nighttime sounds and my light sleep pattern out on the entire country of Brazil; and, at the height of my yelling, which of course did nothing for promoting a calm and peaceful sleep environment, I felt guilty about getting angry at the country when really, it is just the street below me.
So I apologize to Brazil and its citizens who live in peaceful, sleepy little towns, perhaps near beaches or way out in the country side where I’m sure some are just itching for more activity than what they’ve got. Last night, I was an aggravated American and that’s not a pretty sight. (It’s just your buses are so loud and they’re running all night long and then with the motor cycles and the yelling, at a church, for crying out loud; is there any need for yelling in the middle of the night? at a church? But really it’s the buses. And the garbage truck. With the squeaky squealing brakes, and all the men running next to it dumping all the trash in, and the gears changing and grinding and the exhaust….I mean, really. Could you look into electric public transportation maybe?)
And there I go again with the aggravation. Gotta go.