Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Someone Hand Me a Diploma.

This semester is killing me.

Kill. Ing. Me.

I'm enrolled in three classes and while two grades are fine, I have a fifty eight percent in stats.
Fifty. Eight. Percent.
All I need is a sixty to pass which shouldn't be a big deal but I'm probably worse at numbers than anyone you've ever met in your life which is why I studied History and English and stayed far away from anything mathematical for most of my college career.

Ag.

The other thing killing me?
Andrew's taking a class centered solely on the Holocaust and for his term paper, he's writing about the portrayal of the Third Reich in modern film. I have read countless books, both memoirs and fictitious, about the Holocaust, but watching dozens of films on the subject is harrowing at best. Basically I've been having Holocaust-themed nightmares for weeks and I cry a lot. The class he's enrolled in was one I tried to take multiple times but I could never fit it into my schedule and now that I've read some of the texts for the class and watched the movies with Andrew, I am really glad it never worked out. I don't handle death or war well.

Sorry. That was probably a little much for blog land.
And, yes! I did just admit to reading textbooks for a class I'm not enrolled in. I am so ready to be finished with school, but I never said I wasn't an education/learning addict. I love to read and I love to learn. I can't help it! I've always been this way.

Anyway, I do handle these kinds of things well:
On Saturday, we spent most of the day in Salt Lake and after I wrapped a photo session, we headed over to Hire's for dinner.

Shoes

There's something so childishly appealing about ordering food from your car and eating it while sitting in the parking lot.

Him
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Andrew was in heaven while we were there, that much is for sure.
And Max? He slept through it all, but I'm sure he would've liked it, too.