Well, I guess I knew it would eventually happen. I moved away and eventually I would become less and less important. While my mom still calls every Sunday night, the calls get shorter and shorter. I know a lot is going on with them, moving to a new house, practically raising Phoenix, ect, but it's hard. I had so much stuff I wanted to tell my mom. None of it is too exciting, but it's important to me. Like how my advisor freaked out in lecture the other day when she was being observed. After class she was pretty much crying and I'm just not really good in situations like that, especially since she is in an authoritarian role over me. Or how I'm probably going to have to fail this one kid, because he thinks he's pretty, and I'm willing to bet his parents are rich, and therefore he doesn't think he has to do the work. I don't care that he's pretty or that his parents have money; all I care about is if he does the work. And my advisor really likes that paper that it took me forever to write (see previous blogs). She thinks I'm a really good story teller and my research is really strong. And I finally told Tony that we're not in any way, shape or form compatible and he agreed and we were both happy that it was finally out there. But. . . . I guess I'll just have to tell her some other time.
Stacia
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