I married an Alien

Our interview is on Tuesday!  Anton can't stop reminding me... I don't need him to... but he does.  It's funny.

What's not funny is how incredibly lame I am.  How am I going to be a mom if I can't even handle a few classes and a lousy job at the same time?  I don't like this.

Anyway...in my Psych class in high school, we did a section on dreams.  We had to keep a little "dream book" by our beds and write down what we dreamed about.  And we interpreted them-- I don't remember how, though.  I feel like I should keep a dream book by my bed again.  I keep having very bizarre dreams that I can't keep my mind off of, for a long time.  Four years, even.  Maybe if I write them down, I can forget them.

I can't wait to graduate and have my own house!  The couple above us is SO loud.  They fight all the time.  The woman is crazy-- she screams at the top of her lungs for hours.  Anton and I aren't the perfect couple that never fights, but I'm pretty sure we don't wake our neighbors up and make them listen to us scream at each other for the rest of the day.  And I do mean scream.
Sometimes I feel like going up there trying to help them... but that would be weird.

Baby Dreams

Went to Boise this weekend, helping Shantal with the wedding plans and stuff.  Got a dress for her-- very pretty.  Anton cleaned the whole house and had dinner ready for me when I got home.  Very pleasant surprise.  I should probably do that for him more often too.

The language wall finally hit me.  Pretty hard.  My class this semester is full of returned missionaries (Russian-speaking, of course) and I'm a lone little girl. The teacher speaks only in Russian and I have a lot of hard literature to read-- in Russian.  And I don't understand anything.  I don't want to do it anymore... it's too hard.

Anton's job is really bringing him down.  He feels yucky all the time and can't seem to get enough sleep, and I'm getting sick.  On the bright side, we go to Boise for the green card interview in two weeks.  We will be very happy to get this out of the way.  Unless they choose not to give Anton a green card.  That would suck.

I had a dream last night... all about babies.  Cutest babies I have ever seen.  I fell more and more in love with them all throughout my dream, and I want them.

When I was on fourth grade, I stapled my finger while making snowflakes.  I've had a scar there since then-- just a little hole where the staple went in.  And now that tiny hole filled up with clear skin and it hurts.  All the time.  What does that mean?