One more presentation tomorrow, a quiz, one final exam, and a final, ruthless edit of my Gigantic Serial Poem of Doom, and I am officially, actualy-writing-things-down-type-work-wise, anyway, done with actual documented effort for my Undergraduate career. I won't dance yet, in case I crack my head open tomorrow or otherwise screw up the presentation or something.

On that note:

Graduation Status: Application for graduation under review by Faculty.

It's been like that for three weeks now, and I still don't know exactly what it means.

Additionally, I have to give notice next week. I was distantly aware of it, but looking up and realizing that my last quiz in film class had been moved to the 28th made me sort of go OMG-I-have-to-give-notice-to-my-landlord-next-week. In a big panicky way. Needajob. Needanewplace. Needavacation.

Some woman called me from the Whistler Resort this evening and offered me three nights in a penthouse for ninety-eight bucks. It was some kind of Olympics promotion. We were both bitterly disappointed when I explained that I was a twenty-three-year-old student with no income to speak of, and therefore didn't qualify for the shiny pretty vacation.

So I sent her after my parents. Which should at least shut my dad up for a couple of weeks. So I call it a win.

(Random LOST note: "You're wife?" The HELL? *annoyed Grammar-Nazi twitching*)

Hmm. To go to my first class tomorrow, or not to go to my first class tomorrow. That is the question. o.O