The further into the semester it gets, the harder it gets to respect the hubby's constant need to study. At first it's like "no problem, we'll hang out next weekend." But eventually you realize next weekend isn't coming. In fact there is no weekend. Ever. Just 52 weeks of Thursdays, each more urgent than the next. Medschool is definitly not for newlyweds, or the faint of heart- double entendre. He's just lucky I am the supremely understanding superwife I am.
I've been keeping busy though. Work is pretty busy right now, so its nice to have a little disposable income. I used a little of said income to buy myself a really nice book of watercolor paper. I didn't realize how much of a difference using good paper would make, but it really is like night and day. My friend Justin asked if I could paint a simple sea turtle design on a blue background to hang in his apartment, and I got a little carried away. I painted about a dozen of them, and gave most of them away. I kept a couple for myself though. I wish I could get a better picture of them- they look much better in real life.
I've been experimenting with a lot of different styles of painting lately, trying to find one that fits me. While researching different techniques, I came across some aboriginal paintings that really caught my eye. I tried my hand at creating a few paintings using only dots, but I really didn't like them, and only one was spared from the depths of the dust bin:
Not to sound like a gloomy gus, but I'm becoming pretty unhappy with my job. I really don't like working in a bar... mostly, I supppose, because I don't drink. I've also lost a good bit of respect for some people. When I took the job we were desperate for money, and we really didn't know where our next meal was coming from, because our loan check was late, and our savings had been used up in the moving process. I don't like hanging around drunks, and I definitely don't like working late (since I have to walk home by myself). Mostly, though, I'd like to work in a Christian enviroment. It's difficult to find a decent job though, since my visa requires that I don't seek employment. I guess I should just be thankful to have a job at all. I really need to find a church here. I think that would help a lot.
One of Chloe's cats caught a baby sugarbird today. It didn't kill it, but it was really hurt. From what I could see, it's wing was broken, and one of it's feet was nearly taken off. It was such a sad looking little thing. Peter came by and had a look and said it would probably be ok, so I felt a little more cheerful. I took it home and gave it water, and it started getting really interested in a piece of bread I'd soaked and put with it. It hopped in the little thing of water I'd set next to it, and seemed much perkier, flapping his poor little wings, and hopping on it's one foot. I figured he was tired from all the hopping and from surviving the cat attack, because he sat down and closed his eyes. But when I came back in to check on him a few minutes later he was dead. I love the little sugarbirds that are everywhere on St Marten, but now when I see them outside flying around I think of the sad little thing that died in my shoebox. 
