Random Asian Dude

Last night I was out late watching movies with Johnny B, Sara Jo, and Angie--at their house. Their house is sort of out in the boondocks. It is a long walk to a train, but near a couple of bus stops, and the train line it is near is the wrong one to get to my house. So I wait for a bus when I go home, and it only comes every half an hour past midnight.

So there I am at 12:30am, at this random intersection in Polish town. There is this Asian dude (probably 22 or 23) talking on the phone. He is obviously a little intoxicated and trying to give driving directions to friends to get them to where he and I were standing, but he has a problem. He has no real idea where he is in relationship to anything else at all, so what does he do to help fix his problem? He gets me to talk on the phone to his friend and give the friend directions to where we are.

The friend has no idea who I am, and I think may have thought he was talking to one of their other friends. Phone guy also refuses to let me get off the phone because he has no idea where he is going but seems to think I can save him (me, who never drives in this city). Meanwhile, Asian guy randomly keeps thanking me and explaining to me that his friend Joe is Italian because that makes everything about my evening way less surreal--Joe is Italian, of course! Problem solved.

Anyway, I get Joe to our interesection, and random asian guy keeps thanking me. I say, "You're welcome, it was no problem." Because really, what else was I going to do while waiting for the bus. Asian guy however can't let it be and feels he needs to pay me back, so he gives me $1 in quarters which is all that he has in his coat pockets. I made $1 waiting for the bus yesterday, and I got this charming story.

Why is my life so weird? Perhaps it is because Joe is Italian.

Relief

That is what I felt last night as I flipped back in time to one year ago. I was wanting to see if I had written down some intimation of what I had said in an email to Paul when I was mad crushing and thought he was interested in me too--because, prompted by something Sara Jo said, I thought that perhaps I had foolishly professed my love for him in an email. I didn't recall doing something like that, but let's face it, it is totally something that I would do.

However, I did not profess my love of anything to him. I may have sort of asked him out on a date, but that is a far cry from love profession. A year removed from being ignored when emailing someone about what could be a date is way, way less awkward then a year removed from email love profession followed by painful silence. This weird can be blamed far more entirely on him then on me. He is just weird, and that is not helped by having to hang out with my very own downright strange.

Please raise your hand in the comments if my writing made this almost unintelligible.

Went to the Circus

It was basically awesome. There were 7 elephants, and I love elephants. Plus some way cool aerial work and guys riding motorcylces around in a spherical cage. It was sweet, and I think that Jesse Highley (of way back in my CMSU days) was in it. He is a clown for Ringling, I know, but there are three tours. However, I think his clown was in this one, but I am not positive. I am going to try to get ahold of him if he is in town for the next week with this particular circus, but now I must eat dinner and make my way to Johnny B, Sara, and Angie's for Grey's Anatomy.

Bridesmaid Dresses

I went shopping for them today, for my roommate. She isn't getting married, but her sister is so that she gets to pick them out. I helped. We found a pretty one with a belt. Simple, a-line, crepe and organza. It was nice. The best part was that we weren't in the "House of Brides" for all that long, and she bought me food.

On a barely related note, I am sort of baffled by toll roads. We don't have them out West, and they still seem very foreign to me. They make sense as far as revenue gathering goes, but they are odd. Like a new animal or plant species, I know what they are, but I have yet to adjust to their presence or existence.

Why am I so mean?

Today was my friend Brian's birthday, and to celebrate it, I watched my friend Sara bake him a cake, and then we took it to him. He is a Studio 60 fan (just like myself), and he was watching it with his roommates and his friend Zack. I call Zack 'Pretty Zack' because he is one of those classically attractive people who are always hot without ever trying. He can be wearing a fancy-schmancy suit or a dirty sweatshirt, but I am always going to find him attractive. However, I am totally mean to him every time I see him, but not I-am-in-third-grade-and-I-think-I-like-you mean way, just a run of the mill thoughtless-know-it-all mean way.

Example: the last time I saw him I corrected a joke he was poaching from 'When Harry Met Sally' (he used Lebanese food as the reference instead of Ethiopian, so he really even destroyed the funny of the joke). Tonight, he thought that Patricia Arquette was the lead chick in 'High Fidelity,' and she isn't--some Danish chick is. I know all this random uselessness off the top of my head, so I have to blurt it out without thinking, and when someone doubts I am right, I must argue with them (because, in these two cases specifically, I unequivocally know I am correct). Anyway, every time I speak to Zack, I am this mean sort of know-it-all. I am sure he hates me because I would hate me. It isn't that I am interested in him and want him to like me because I am not (but I wouldn't kick him out of bed either, I am no fool). I just feel bad that I am a jerk to my friend Brian's friends. Let's face it, I feel bad that I am a jerk at all, and I am apparently kind of a tool.

Also, PS some of my friends need to warn a girl when a man she has obsessed over a great deal in the past (and even put herself out there for--which I don't always do because I talk a big game and rarely ever walk it), they need to warn her when he is sleeping on their couch and she is over visiting. There I am at John, Sara, and Angie's when Angie comes home with Paul from rehearsal. Oh, hi person I haven't talked to in a year, you know since I threw myself at you and you oh so carefully ducked. No, no this isn't awkward in the least since no one gave me fair warning. Thanks a lot people.

Seriously, I think it went ok. I mean it was a little weird, but he is a little weird, so it could be just that. Please? Please be just that, and damn is he still the sexiest man I know in real life (sorry Henry, one day when we meet, you can take that title, but for now, you live only in my dreams--and somewhere in LA).

Conversation Terrorist

That is what I am. Lately I have had a few specific interchanges where I have actually been so much of one that I noticed my reign of terror. I take people hostage with my conversation. They can't run and they can't hide, and they never know when it will strike next. Actually, my friends do know when it will strike next because they are used to it. Strangers, on the other hand, are totally screwed. They start talking to the friendly girl in the store, and the next thing they know they can't leave.

The sad thing is that it occasionally makes me wonder if they think I have no friends and that is why I am so desperate to talk to them, but really the desperation is mostly boredom. Well boredom and laziness. If I don't talk to strangers (or as I like to call it, engage with customers) I might have to do work. Strangers are more interesting then work, and it only works with real strangers. I can talk to a stranger who is shopping in my store way longer then I can talk to a friend of mine who is shopping in the store because it can still be considered shopping if it is a stranger.

I like talking to strangers, and I would even take their candy if they offered it.

PS Way excited that my spellcheck came back with a message about not detecting any errors.

Cold and rainy walk home

And I was even going to venture out tonight, but the weather is so icky. I must stay in. I am going to order some food, and watch some movies with my germ infested roommate (she has the step throat).

Also, my house is boy free right now. For a few days that was not true, but it is now, and it is kind of clean and it smells nice, which is good.

I don't want to be like Jesus, I am fucking Jesus.

The Pillowman ruled. It freaked me out. Michael Shannon and Jim True-Frost rock my world, as does Martin McDonough. Everyone should see it or read it or something.

I didn't get a sticker

I voted, but I didn't get a sticker, and I got to vote in the back of a book store which is way cooler then my Washington polling places ever were (the grange hall and the saddle club)! But I didn't get a sticker. I got a piece of paper--it does however give me a discount on books at the book store.

Tonight I go see the Pillowman at Steppenwolf.

A weird coincidence

I was trying to figure out what speed dial numbers belong to my roommates today (because every person in my phone has a # and if I just type that in I can call them faster), and so I was looking for the #'s for a few people by scrolling through all of them, and the # 69 belongs to a particular someone I seem to have a particular weakness for who may be moving here in not all that long of a time. Because God hates me. I would've been just fine not knowing this. My friend Jessica predicts I will probably do something that will turn out to be stupid, and this just seems to be a sign that that is almost definitely going to happen.

In and completely unrelated note, sometimes when I visit my own blog from outside of the blogger dashboard it lies about how many comments are attached to a post, for example saying there aren't any when I can see that obviously isn't true when I click on the button. I don't get it, unless it is a glitch in my bookmarks because it sometimes needs me to push refresh on pages in my bookmarks that I visit often that get updated regularly (ie blogs powered by blogger). It kind of sucks. I will go for days thinking no one likes me or that someone isn't posting when in fact they have been all along. I do not like this Sam I am.

I am so a person on an Oprah episode

Yesterday I was talking to my sister on the phone (she is starting a business as a wedding/special events consultant and giving up teaching), and she couldn't get over the fact that I wasn't coming home for either holiday this fall and winter. I tried to explain to her that I am poor in a way she has never been, and it is just too expensive for me to fly home for a holiday (especially when I can only be home for like 4 days tops). It just isn't worth it if I can go home in the summer for like a week and a half with my ticket costing half as much. I love my family, but I barely have money to replace a pair of shoes I wear at work all the time, so paying eight or nine hundred dollars to go home isn't happening. That is almost as much money as I take home in a whole month. If she wanted to buy me a ticket for Christmas or something that is a whole different story (of course).

That is a long intro to me going home this summer for my ten year high school reunion (because I think that I am going to go). This means I have nine months (give or take) to get thinner and in better shape, so that I will look absolutely fabulous at the reunion. I was kind of dowdy and nerdy in high school (actually subtract the kind of and insert extremely), and I am easily way better looking now (it helps that now I like myself which definitely wasn't true then). This means I am a cliche!!! I am like all of those women who want to go on Oprah because she is their only hope, and I really am like them. It would be so awesome to be a knock out at my reunion. I also should be putting money away now to buy the most perfect dress ever. Hmmm, way too much to think about. It is like I am in a bad romantic comedy movie. Oh my god, if I meet or remeet someone from high school there and fall in love someone please shoot me. Seriously, shoot me. That seems unlikely to happen. I am way to cynical, and they would all have had to have major life/personality transplants (which I guess is possible, I mean I have a whole different life and am a much perkier person--again, I need to stop thinking about this). I am really concerned about the getting thinner thing. It is consuming way too much of my thinking (and ironically making me crave all the things I should avoid if I am going to make it actually happen--like hagen daas, I want some right now, dulce de leche).

First I might need to get some discipline though. Anybody seem some? I seem to be in short supply.

I would also like to thank my loyal CMSU friends for piping up in the comment section and to welcome Joann into the fold. I am fascinated and flattered that you find me interesting, and don't worry I will keep writing. Nobody has ever been able to really shut me up yet.

Reader Poll

So, lately it has occured to me that I have no idea who reads my blog. I know my roommates and my coworker, Kristy, peek in occasionally. Alan, Jim, and Margaret leave regular comments (although lately the Jimbo has been absent). Some other friends on MySpace and the bitchbarn have found me here as well, but there are others out there in cyberspace whom I know nothing about who now know a great deal about me. So, I am throwing a reader poll.

I am inviting all of my readers to leave a comment introducing themselves. It doesnt have to be much (name or pseudonym and city) or it can be a nice long bio or blog link or web page link. Also feel free to share what you like about my blog or what you would like to see more of, I guess you can even tell me what you hate (I probably won't respond to the things you hate because this is my blog and if you don't like it, you don't have to read it). If you do leave comments about what you like, I may try to include more of it. What I am looking for is an idea of how many people take a look into my life and how often they do so.

The fact that I might have some sort of public is shocking to me. I can kind of understand why some of my friends might read this, but it is hard for me to grasp the concept that there might be something in here for total strangers. Which is why I am so curious. Please, please take a second and say hi (like I said, name and city would be great and anything more would be AWESOME!). Thank you so much in advance.

Things to ponder regarding netflix

If netflix sends me a movie from California, it takes the better part of four days to make the journey. When I send a netflix movie back to California (for real, instead of cheating and slipping it into a Chicago-Netflix sleeve I have lying around the house--after finding it after I had lost it and sent two movies back in one sleeve), it gets there in two freaking days. Is it the time change? Is that what makes it move faster that direction? Does it literally lose two days instead of just two hours like the rest of us? I mean, seriously?

If I could live without my netflix, things like this might make me swear off it for good. But we all know that is never going to happen. I am shaking my fist angrily at their big red envelopes. Now I am going to check my queue to see what lies they are going to tell me about when the next disc of West Wing Season 6 is going to arrive (or apocryphal season 2, the one where the President breaks Leo's heart--literally and figuratively because this is TV and we can do that here).

Also, apparently my scary recall of Sorkin TV series episodes and factoids freaks people out. Specifically it freaks Alan out, but he lives with Sherman so perhaps I can go with the argument, "what the fuck does he know anyway?" Did I mention Alan likes to get name-checked in blogs. Name check that Alan.

P.S. I am not as angry at Alan as the aforementioned sentences may lead you to believe, and Alan is the most likely to know that.

P.S. Part II: Is it odd that the blog spell check does not recognize the word blog?

So I forgot about the shoplifter

Apparently, last Friday a shoplifter was arrested in our neighborhood who had stole from us too. I get on to work just as a CPD officer has him in his car outside our store, and manages to get our manager to file a complaint, so that the perp could go to jail. They took some polaroids and asked around if people remembered him, but I had just gotten there so no. However, my coworker Shavahn remembered him, and she had gotten him to sign up for a our catalogs. That's right the criminal mastermind gave us his address and contact info. Wonderful.

Random Street Sighting

Yesterday, of the ex-boyfriend. It was hilarious. We were driving down the street (my roommates and I) on our way to a wedding (Congratulations Mr. & Mrs. Kristy and Mike Hayden), looking all fabulous, when Renee sees him come out of a building. Her immediate (and out loud response) is, "Oh my God!" which of course prompts Janna to say, "What!?". Since Renee couldn't come up with appropriately believable misdirection, she copped to seeing Patrick.

This is where it gets good. He is walking with ex-girlfriend/new girlfriend, and his parents or somebody's older people. I am sitting in the backseat as we creep down the street (due to traffic instead of curiosity) while they walk the same direction that we are going, and I am trying not to look or stare so there can be discomfort avoided if perchance he notices us in the car (except of course I take a good look at what she looks like). Janna and Renee are openly staring, and there response goes something like this, "Oh, she is not okay!" in reference to the girlfriend. Hilarious!!! I am laughing, they are gawking. Two guys walking down the street behind ex-boyfriend and entourage are noticing our staring and gawking. Very funny.

Then we went to the wedding and ate (some amazing fried chicken!) and drank a little and talked with friends and had wedding good timey-ness. But, I won't ever forget, "Oh, she is not okay." That one is tucked securely in the self-esteem bank. I love my roommates.

A blog in two parts

Part one: I saw a sneak peek of Borat yesterday--the whole movie for free. Cohen and I don't really hang out in the same comedy, he is either too gross-out for me or way, way too edgy (I am hopelessly uncool) and that movie has both. If you like his comedy, you'll love it (oh my God does he complete the jokes Al), but I just wasn't completely with it. I am glad I saw it right around the build up of the hype, but I am also so glad I didn't pay for it.

Then I snuck into The Departed which fucking ruled. That movie was great! One of the best things I have seen in theatres for a long time. It was an hour+ longer then Borat and felt shorter. Loved Leo and Matt Damon (well hated Matt Damon, but was supposed to--loved getting to hate him), loved Vera Farmiga, loved x 1,000 Alec Baldwin and Marky Mark, and adored Martin Sheen. This movie was brutally violent and hilarious within breaths. So much audience laughter from tension relief! Was so angry at one point I was trembling and tearing up with rage. I think you should all go immediately to your nearest theatre and see it. I am going to probably see it again, since Scorcese should have my money for it. Go see it.

Part Two: I went on a field trip to a pumpkin patch with my roomate (Janna, the teacher) and her class of 1-3 grade special ed kids. Our other roomate (Renee) and I were the chaperones, and it was great. According to the kids Renee is really cool, and Janna and I have red hair like the little mermaid. Also on the trip a group of Preschoolers. Little kids were amazed that we all wore Chuck Taylors (they wore black, I green). They kept telling us all day. It was hilarious. Actually, little kids are hilarious. It was a good day, and I got to color and take a nap on my desk. Hopefully next month I will get to go to the circus.

My weekend got better

I went to a bachelorette party at a drag show in downtown Chicago. Well, it started at my friend's house (the bachelorette) and we ate some good food and drank some good drink. Then we saw a drag show with some phenomenal looking queens, and an overwhelmingly female audience. It was very strange. Fun, but strange. Then we went dancing in another neighborhood in Chicago (it was a drinking on the 'el kind of a party), and danced and danced so much I am sore from dancing. It was great! Then I walked home in the rain. Weekends rule!

Also, I have an idea for an actual book to write. Will be working on that--not a novel.

I am in sinus fucking hell

My brain feels like it is full of sludge that is sitting on a ledge immediately behind my eyebrows and dripping slowly down behind my nose. Plus there is weird pressure on the back of my head too. Yea! I took my allergy meds, and now I think I must sleep and hope that fixes it.

Not a whole lot

Going on. I go to the pumpkin patch next week, and in November I may get to go to the circus as a chaperone. That would be awesome--especially if Jesse Highley is still a clown with Ringling.

Must go, Grey's may continue this later.

This is the continuing bit. Anyway, not so much with the excitement in my life lately, but I guess that is good since there is plenty of bad excitement that could be making my life awful (hypothetically, not actually).

The big post from a few days ago (Being a grown-up) is in a series of essay/column style writing that I have been at lately. No idea what I am going to do with it, but I seem to be full of it. (Alan stop laughing at me). Thinking about some sort of spoken word performance something, but not really sure what that would even look like except me standing there telling my stories--however there is obvious danger there with an entire evening of me performing and never actually finishing a single story. There you go.

Good Grey's though. Sad that Callie had to be mean to George, even sadder that he needed it. Too bad McSteamy and she didn't keep it going--not that I thought there was a snowball's chance in hell that they would.

I am a sad, sad little nerd

I read this blog called A List of Things Thrown Five Minutes Ago, and I occasionally post in the comments section. Well, Shonda Rhimes (the creator/showrunner of Grey's Anatomy) reads and contributes to it as well, and in a thread bemoaning the loss of opening credits and theme songs to title cards I mentioned that Grey's may just have been running long this season and title-carded it in order to give them 30 more seconds of more show. Then Shonda posted right after me saying that was why. Then I ruined it by being a nerd and saying how awesome it was that shonda commented on something I said. Yeah, that kind of made my day. Click here and read the thread entitled Now Sit Right Back and You'll Hear a Tale--don't forget to check the comments. I have gone with the incredibly clever handle of Heather.

Being a Grown up

I guess that that's what I am, or it is becoming more and more apparent that even if I have a Hello Kitty wallet, the ID inside it says I am 27. Face it, my high school 10-year reunion is this summer, and it has made me reflect upon several things.

Like the fact that it is unlikely that I will be married before I am 30. That is two and a half years away, and I have no marriage prospects--no matter how the current fantasy of me, Henry Rollins, and an Elvis impersonater in a chapel in Las Vegas plays out (still a fantasy and NOT reality).

The thing is, I don't feel like I am missing anything in my life. I don't feel like my single status makes me less of a person or even that it defines me in any sort of negative way. I like being just me. I like that I never have to consider other people when I make my plans. When I watch a movie, I never have to think will Joe-bob (or other hypothetical significant other's name here) be upset that I saw "The Departed" without him? I can just go out on the spur of the moment and meet friends and never have to worry that I am interfering with someone else's plans for 'our' night. My life is entirely my own, and I like it that way, and I like my life.

But I have no context with which to discuss my life with my family. I don't have a career. I have a job which I keep saying I will change but I never do anything to change. I am not even pursuing my "passion" (in quotes since I have not felt very passionate about it in a while); I don't even go see theatre anymore. I don't have a boyfriend, and I don't have dates, and I am not doing anything about that since I mostly don't care. (Note, I say mostly don't care because 95% of the time the only thing I really miss about not being in a relationship is the fact that when you are in a relationship you can generally count on getting laid on a very regular basis--when single much more work is involved in getting laid each individual time). My family understands pursuing careers and husbands and children, but they don't understand just hanging out or living life. They can forgive it for a few years because I am the artistic, eccentric one, but they still ask me if I am seeing someone or when I am going to get a serious job (although they generally phrase that one something like, "Wouldn't you like a more regular job that maybe paid a little better?"). My answers baffle them. They can't understand why I don't look for a man or a career or both, and it often makes me feel like I should be looking for those things or like there is something wrong with me for not being interested in those things.

Is there something wrong with me? I don't think that there is. But if I had told 16-year-old me that there was no way I would be married at 30, 16-year-old me would've been appalled. How could I never have met someone by 30? What the hell happened to me?

Nothing happened to me. Or nothing bad, I guess lots happened to me. I have met several someones. Many of them very nice, but none of them for me or not for me forever. Even the love of my life (so far) wasn't someone I could see myself marrying. Yes, for a while, I did see myself ending up with Patrick, but I think that was part 16-year-old me seizing her last chance to nest and part me being high on falling for someone and coming out of a depression all at once (so the run of the mill falling for someone new felt more significant in contrast to the feeling like crap while I was depressed). I still think I am a perfectly nice person. I am intelligent, pretty, funny, quirky, and obviously not humble in any way.

I am a catch, but I don't think I am for everyone. I recognize that I tend to freak people (men) out. I am a little more then most of them bargain for, and I would rather be alone then with someone I have to gentle my image up for. That's why I probably won't be married at 30 and may not be married ever. But that isn't cause for alarm. I like my solitary life, and I wouldn't trade it for an unsatisfactory partner or even a satisfactory partner. I am a special case, and I want someone special. If a good man is hard to find, I imagine a special one may never be found, but that is okay. I can be just me forever. I know I like it. Unless Henry Rollins wants to give me a call. He seems like a special case.

No comments about ninjas?

Really? But it was real. We have ninjas at pier 1. I was a little loopy today at work due ot an exhausintg truck and a sub driver who was much younger and flirtier then our usual driver (who was with wife visiting the grand kids). He pretty much flirted shamelessly with Laura and I the whole time, although he was kind of a tool.

Also, work is less fun then it used to be unless our head boss is there. This is weird because it used to be more fun without here, and now she keeps the annoying new management types at bay. The old management types are still great, but the new ones have issues when left completely in charge. Mostly annoyingness issues and issues treating us like very tiny children who speak no english. Like they forget that our pier one does not in fact employ high schoolers but older types who have it as their main job and have college degrees.

Had the strange thought that I think I would like working towards an MBA if pier one would pay for it. Probably will pass with the rain. Wouldn't that be strange. Boy would my parents be relieved.

"Excuse me, I need room for me and my ninjas."

My friend Kristy said this to me at work today in all seriousness. There was no joking because he had boxes of these crazy decorative ninja statues that pier 1 is selling right now. It was pretty awesome. Who else had legitimate ninja conversations today? That is what I thought.

I am totally suffering from some weird insomnia. Plus two things have happened lately to make me feel really old and kind of unfulfilled or unfinished. One, I keep getting my space messages looking for my info for my 10 year reunion next summer. I feel like I should be thinner or more successful for it, but I guess there is some time to fix that between now and then, assuming that I go (not sure about that just yet). Second, a little girl I used to babysit (and is now a college freshman) has been posting songs she has written onto her my space music page, and they are kind of amazing. So amazing that one is now my profile song and also in heavy rotation on the new ipod of so many earlier posts. There she is learning guitar and writing songs, and here I am sitting on my ass watching dvds of the west wing and lots of mindless TV (I watched NCIS in real time yesterday).

I feel like I am a creative person--obviously with the acting, but also with the sewing and lately I seem to have found a latent talent for table setting and floral arrangements. I have been trying a hand at being a memoirist, and I want to write a play that me and my friends here in Chi-town could put on here and be fucking brilliant in. However, I don't get around to doing much--except when people ask for place settings and floral arrangements at work (where I help bitchy mavens of Lincoln Park dress up a room or a table on the cheap). I just want to get motivated to stick with something, anything, enough to follow through to a first draft or mock up and then even further to a final project, but I just don't care enough to get past hard. I just don't. I think that I used to. One time I did care about things enough to devote all my time to them. Now, I am obsessed with watching my favorite TV shows and reading my favorite blogs. Not so much an achievement. Where's my freaking fire?

Sidebar: why can't spell checker on a blog recognize the word blog or its plural?

Couldn't sleep and watched west wing

I just could not go to sleep to save my soul last night. I couldn't do it. Just lie there and lie there. It totally sucked. Anyway, then I went to the zoo today, and it was better. There were baby piggies and baby meerkats, and it was awesome. The meerkats (adult and baby) were being fed and they were scampering all over the place and one even tugged on the pant leg of the zookeeper looking for food. Meerkats are awesome.

I have one

An ipod. I have a nano, and it has songs on it and a podcast, and it makes me happy. Margaret, I tend to agree with you; something makes me want to put it in my mouth. I have not put it in my mouth, but I have thought about it. I plan to curl up with it tongiht in bed and let it sing me to sleep.

Ipod soon

I should maybe get a nano in the mail tomorrow. A black one. I am way excited. That is all I know, and really care about for the time being.

Comment jibberish

I have my blog set so that people who comment must pass the prove they are human and not spam test. However, I find it weird that I have to pass it to comment on my own blog. I understand why I would have to sign in, but I don't get why I would have to pass the human test. It is me. It is my blog. Of course I am human. The info is alredy connected to them through my computer. Seriously? All right whatever. Need to be productive today. Probably going to apply to teach some theatre to kiddies today. We'll see how that goes.

Feel free to mock me

Two things. First, I get to vote at Powell's Bookstore--that is my polling place. Unfortunately Pacific Northwesters, it is a little imposter faker store and not the grand glorious Powell's Books of Portland fame.

Second, I think I am more then a little in love with Henry Rollins. He is smart and funny and passionate about his views, kind of a big nerd, and a little crazy--plus totally hot. Because of these sentiments, my roommates think I am insane. It is the topic of mocking Heather in the apartment right now. They can't get over it. It just makes them laugh and laugh and laugh. Feel free to join them in mocking me, or better yet agree with me, that would be cool too.

PS I realize I hve no chance at all with Henry Rollins no matter how well read I am. Fantasy, reality, not at all the same things.

Please leave feedback

Whoa, so I haven't posted in almost a week, and I have no good reason why. I journaled a little bit (on actual paper with an actual pen using *gasp* penmanship) because it was stuff that might make my blog too confessional--I know, probably too late for that, but I am trying to normal it up, or something. Nothing big, just thoughts and stuff. Nothing significant that I haven't shared with you all out in cyberspace, and I totally love that my dear Courtney has been reading this. Awesome!!

Here is the stuff to discuss and leave feedback on. I just finished James Frey's A Million Little Pieces and in it he talks about how he doesn't believe men can be friends with a woman they find attractive (i.e. would want or want to sleep with or the like) and vice versa, not because it was impossible but because it would be too much torture. Therefore only a sadist or someone seriously delusional could/would do that. What do you all think?

I think that I agree. Speaking just of myself, when I have been friends with men I wanted to be more then friends with, I could do it only when they were like married or completely taken in that kind of relationship. If their was any kind of availability with them (even if they were taken), the friendship fizzled out before it got serious because it wasn't fun enough for me to keep up--it was vaguely awful to be just a little close to them and no where near close enough. I haven't been able to stay friends with someone I dated who I still wanted after the break-up, probably because that same awfulness. Again, I open this for discussion in the comment section.

There was screaming

I was going to use my day off to write something interesting about my parents a la my one day collect them in a memoir thing, but instead I did some house cleaning and watched a whole lotta netflix. Then thre was screaming for the end of "Grey's Anatomy" which was way, way, way too good last night.

Really, I actually am not even talking about the whole episode being good. Naked McSteamy was good! Really every episode of every tv show should feature a naked McSteamy. When he walked out with the towel, my roommate and I screamed and she stood up and I went from lying on the couch to kneeling up on the couch. It was intense tv for not a series finale or a series premiere or even sweeps week. Screaming, for real. I am sure the boys upstairs wondered what the hell was going on.

I won!

A ten dollar gift certificate to either Barnes & Noble or Borders. Not quite the lottery but something. My odds were better too, something like 1 in 5. Must get sleep more talkie/writey tomorrow.

Instead of Prozac

I walk about two miles a day five days a week--to work and back. In these walks I have a lot of time to think, and I think about all kinds of things. What I would do with fictitious lottery winnings? What do I want to do with my life? What am I doing with my life? What was this episode of my life about? What were my motives about doing something in my past and what did I tell myself were my motives at the time?

Bascially, I just examine things about my life and myself and see what I can learn from them. Lately something occurred to me about the two serious relationships I have had in my life. I entered into each of them following a period of depression. In the first, it was after my sojourn in NYC which was a rough time for me. It got so bad that I would sleep 16 hours a day (on average) for about a month--a month when I left my house basically only to buy food. Pretty classic signposts of depression. Moving back to my hometown was not an intant fix. Last fall and winter in Chicago I was waffling on a similar path. I had a job and a few more friends, so it never got anywhere near that bad, but it was a hard time. It was hard to be that self-sufficient, expecially as the friends I had brought with me here started to find their own lives an be less available to me (jobs, hobbies, new friends, etc.). The lack of community bith times hurt me. I like being a member of a community of friends; it is important to my emotional well-being.

Both Eric and Patrick showed up in my life at times when I felt alone and depressed, and both relationships started hard and fast. I jumped in way over my head immediately both times (although with Eric, I refused to label any of the things I was feeling but that didn't make the feelings any different). My life underwent a change with/because of both of those relationships. I went from sad to happy, depressed to joyful. Other people treat depression with therapy or drugs (Zicam, Prozac, whatever), and it seems I treat them with men--with falling in love.

I have never had a serious relationship that started with me in a normal, healthy frame of mind. Okay, so maybe normal and healthy can't really ever be assigned to my frame of mind, but what I mean is I have never started a serious relationship in a mental emotional state that corresponds to my usual self. I have only started them in periods of turmoil. I would say that I started dating Dan and John in that mind set, and whatever happened with Luke was from a normal mind set, but in those situations I didn't seem interested in fully participating in the struggle of a serious relationship or really fighting for them to be in my life. Now, in some cases (John) they totally didn't deserve it, and in others maybe I wasn't actually interested in anything more then what happened (Dan and Luke), but it all begs the question what would happen if I ever met a truly fantastic guy that I really liked when I was at my norm or was happy? It also begs the question, would I ever really like a guy if I met him when I was at my norm or even happy?

Not winning

The lottery. I am not winning it. Not a dime, not a buck nothing. Not that I spend that much on it, maybe $10-15 in the last 6 months. Probably not even that, but I never win. I could use some extra cash some way. I could. Even if it was just like $20 or something. Plus the $ I spend on lotto would be spent buying candy or junk food, and lotto is at least not going straight to my tummy and my upper ass fat. Lotto is going straight to crushed dreams.

See Margaret's blog progression for the logic behind this posting.

Yea for free movies!

Although I am a little embarassed to admit that the free movie I saw was "Number 2" the Jackass movie, and I enjoyed it a great deal. There was laughing until I hurt. Lots of laughing. Plus, I got to go see it before it opened and make my siblings really, really jealous. That may be the very best part.

My legs were so tired they stopped

Really all of me. I was tired. Super long (though not bad, just busy/hard) day at work Sunday, and then this morning was truck day. I spent the last hour at work with tired, itchy eyes, and I needed a nap when I got home. I didn't take one for like an hour and a half. First there was eating, and second there was watching an hour long thing on the History channel on "Spontaneous Human Combustion." I am not joking. It had some pretty grusome pictures and was kind of totally fascinating at first and then just padded out at the end.

Tomorrow I will be sleeping because it is my day off. Also I was sleeping a little while ago, and I will be sleeping very soon because it is night. Sleeping is very important to me.

All of this will hve to wait until after football though. That is right, I am watching football. Well, half watching and half ignoring football. My roommates are watching. They are Steelers fans. They have terrible towels out on the couch, and we are one of those houses that have a sports flag or poster in the window (although thank god just the poster). Football, I know. And not even the good kind with cute boys you can see.

West Wing Overload

I watched the first four episodes of season 5 today--in a row. In case you are forgetting those are some of the "Oh shit Aaron is gone and he left us with a fucking republican president" episodes. Also known as the real bad ones. They pull it out a little bit near the end of season 5 with Donna gets a sexy photojournalist boyfriend in the middle east and then gets blown up with Fitzwallace double header, and a shout out to Sarte and a really cool documentary episode following CJ--very meta. But basically this season is real crappy at the beginning, but I must suffer through so that I can say that I have seen them all, and I did not watch most of season 5 out of protest.

Also, I think I may need, need, need a new ipod nanon in shiny colors. I might need it. Plus we have an apple store so I can go instant grat it downtown. We shall see because I can't really, really afford it, and I could probably go visit my friend Jessica in Orlando (which comes with several days of free Disneyworld), so don't expect to read that I got an ipod nano tomorrow or this week or anything.

I need to light a fire under it

Next weeks, I am going to research like crazy and pursue theatre education here in Chicago. I am going to research some companies to see what their theatre ed programs are like and then I am going to volunteer (or seek paid positions) and make myself an expert on theatre education (obviously this is the beginnings of a long term plan. but that is what it is. I don't really feel like acting that much anymore, but I miss teaching the kiddies. I would love to work with them. Creating myself a niche in teaching children's theatre is a totally fascinating thing to me.

Now, I don't want to do crap theatre for kids. I am serious about educating and engaging them in productive quality (emphasize QUALITY) productions. I am serious about treating children of all ages intelligently and being serious about creating engaging entertainment for youth, hopefully it can also be educational but not hit you over the head with a hammer in anyway. Yeah, so that is my plan.

Why am I a lazy slob?

More importantly why do I not weigh 300 pounds? Today I sat on the couch or laid in bed, except for a little two block walk to the convenience store to buy lunch. Breakfast was two hot dogs, and that lunch I just mentioned was a little bit of leftover popcorn, some almond M & M's, some dark chocolate M & M's, and some Mentos washed down with diet coke. Then for dinner I had chili drowned in sour cream and cheddar cheese. Seriously?

Things I need to do: first get off my ass and do something other then going to work. Or something like that.

I may be asleep by 10pm tonight

Like I was in the 7th grade or something. I am tired, and I must be at work at 6 am, so I guess it is a good plan, but it is a little embarassing. Blech. I don't want to go to work early in the AM. However, I will be very excited to get off work early in the PM.

I am a Mermaid bitches

You scored as Mermaid. Mermaid: Mermaids are also known as Sirens. These creatures were beautiful women who tricked sailors into becoming completely entranced by their haunting voices and found death soon after. Not all stories of Mermaids are about gentle loving sea people. They are mystical, magical, and extremely dangerous. They have a way about them that brings anyone they are around to seem enchanted. They are very mysterious creatures and to meet one... Would mean certain Death. Let the song of the Sea fill your soul, for you are a Mermaid. Mermaid 100% Faerie 67% WereWolf 59% Angel 58% Dragon 50% Demon 50% What Mythological Creature are you? (Cool Pics!) created with QuizFarm.com

Why my brother is my hero

My brother is a really brave man, and I never really knew how brave until this past weekend. He told me a story about his day, but it wasn't a story about rescuing babies or kittens in peril, it wasn't about fighting wild animals, and it wasn't about a battlefield during war. His tale was far less glamourous, but maybe even harder.

My brother is in the Air Force, but his brave tale wasn't from any danger of gunfire or big scary place in the world. He lives in Northern California, and is an ammo guy at his base there. The big danger in his day to day life is, well there really isn't all that much big danger. He very slowly drives bombs around, so I guess being around bombs confers some degree of danger, but he wasn't brave about the ammo. He was brave at work in other ways.

Last week, he was sent a survey--an anonymous survey (through his Air Force assigned email address)--to fill out online. This survey asked him about all manner of minutiae of life in the service; it asked about food in the mess, living in the community, the base grocery store, and military policy.

It asked how he felt about the military's no tolerance policy of homosexuality in the service. Did he strongly agree with it, agree with it, feel indifferent to it, disagree with it, or strongly disagree with it? He answered that he strongly disagreed. How did my brother feel about don't ask don't tell? He strongly disagreed with it because he believes a person's sex life shouldn't have anything to do with their worklife unless they are a sex worker or they want it to.

At the end of the survey, he was told that the last few questions would be a more in depth exploration of five 'random' questions he had already answered. What do you know, two of the questions it explored were 'no tolerance to homosexuality' and 'don't ask don't tell.' Thomas passionately defended a person's right to love whoever they want regardless of gender. This was the beginning of his true act of bravery. I am sure (and so was he) that the military had a way to track the survey back to him, so it seems likely that, "They'll think I am gay pretty soon," as he said to me. That could put his job at risk (theoretically, probably a long shot since he does like girls).

His act of bravery was taking the survey aloud in his shop. He was surrounded by young straight males from backwater America who don't just dislike homosexuality, but they hate it. It disgusts them. They may not have any sort of realistic comprehesion of it--to them it may just be, at best, Jack and Will from "Will and Grace" and colored by the 'scandalous' sex scenes from "Brokeback Mountain" (which was a movie they never saw)--but they hate it all the same.

My brother knew this when he started answering his questions, but that didn't change his answers. In fact, it only made him madder. He passionately defended his answers in the face of ignorance, hate, and bigotry to people who's minds he doubted he would change. He answered all comers. He answered in the face of people who could probably report him for some of this. They could report that he is gay (I am sure the thought crossed their minds), and that could bring him trouble like he has never before known. He answered with arguments that simply say that homosexuals are just like heterosexuals, and they deserve exactly the same rights and opportunities.

My brother was brave. It is easy for me to say that bigotry is wrong and homosexuals are the same as everyone else because no one I see on a regular basis (or work with or hang out with) thinks otherwise. Big deal. Have I defended my beliefs in the face of real hatred? Have I really ever stood up to people in defense of the unpopular? No. I have even let things go unchallenged that bothered me deeply, that made me feel sick to my stomach. I just sat there quietly and allowed them to pass, but my brother, Thomas, doesn't do that. That is why he is a hero, and hopefully not just mine.

Inspired by Robyn and Jim

These guys (minus the lead singer) stayed at my house in July when they played the Metro in Chicago. They are pretty good guys, and I do like this song and this video--plus everyone else was putting up music, and I wanted to hop on the bandwagon.

Remind me later to post why my brother is my hero; it is a good story.

I should just give up

on throwing parties because seriously I cannot get people to show up for anything. Last night there was free food and beer and there were less guests at our party then live at our house. I had a friend come and my other two roomates had a friend come, and that was it. I have nicknamed it "The Little Party That Couldn't." It was pretty freaking sad.

Almost as sad as the fact that I have watched four episodes in a row of Extreme Makeover Home Edition. It was a marathon what can I say? Also there was crying. I couldn't help it; they were some sad farmer family that lost there dad but got farm equipment, a new barn, and hay. It made me cry.

Umm, so tomorrow I may be a bum, I may cook dinner, and I may go to a free movie showing. We shall see.

Oooh, also I watched Serenity this weekend, and it was WAY, WAY better then the show was. I really liked it. I just wanted all of you firefly nerds to know that. I am sorry Jim, but the movie was way good.

I was useful this much today

I did get a pinch done. I used the wonders of the internet to schedule the turning off/closing out of my gas and electric at the old apartment (yes, I know that I am a little bit late in getting to that, but whatever). I also paid my electric bill there and at the new place, and I still have money left in my account which I don't fully understand, but I guess I have been better at sticking to my budget then I thought or something.

All this and I am still in my pajamas because days off rule. I needed today off hardcore because I was whupped, and this is the first day off that I have had in a while that I actually didn't have stuff planned for. Granted some of the 'stuff' I refer to was way fun like hanging out with my friends who just moved here and meeting up with old friends from high school and entertaining hardcore bands who sleep on my floor, but it was good to have a for real break. Sleeping was necessary. Now room cleaning looks like it will be necessary and maybe I will find the charger to my old cell phone so that I can get an alarm clock with a snooze button again.

The snooze button seems to actually be important to my life. I enjoy the half-awake, half-asleep time that you have when you push it. I revel in it. It takes on a golden pink haze in my life, and when I have an alarm that only rings once, I lose all of that, and I miss it. I also end up going back to sleep and not getting up in time. Snooze is my friend. All hail snooze!

Tomorrow I will spend the whole day in bed

The only drawback is that I don't have Sims2 "stuff" which came out on Wednesday, but I should have some netflix (including Serenity the movie, unless the bitchfaces at netflix send things late again--this week it is ridiculous, everything late).

Anyway, sleeping=happiness.

Yea Jeffery!!!

Finally he wins a challenge, finally. I feel that he sould've beat Michael a few weeks ago with his absolutely stunning and I would wear it trash dress, but whatever! He won tonight like a fucking rockstar. Also, thank God that Stupid Ohio idiot girl is gone because I would've been pissed if she had outlasted Kayne and she deserved the bitchslap welcome-to-Paris-nevermind exit.

My roomies and I are a little obsessed with that show. There was actual screaming and breath holding involved in watching the telecast. They was robbed for best reality show emmy--especially against stupid family edition amazing race (which normally I give props to, especially since it is the only reality show I actually knew someone on--thanks Brian Smith and Dr. See for making him my Benedick 8,000 years ago). Screaming, for real. We are dorks.

I am sleepy

Long truck days on Monday after a weekend out late=tired. Also=punchy. Also=hungry. I think it is time for a little what I call a quesa-ritto which is half quesadilla and half burritto. There is some cheese and beans and salsa in a tortilla. Makes me happy.

Also, it makes me happy listening to Jeff Simmons radio show on the internet because he plays a lot of music I have never heard before but really like. If you are interested, google the Portland Radio Authority and take a gander--Jeff dj's country feedback on Mondays from noon-two (about) pacfic time.

Long weekend, long week to come

I am tired. Tired of working and tired of playing. I really just want to curl up in to a ball in my bed and stay there for a day or two, but that ain't gonna happen until Friday at the earliest.

Tomorrow I have truck, Tuesday I am cleaning/finishing packing my old apartment, and then I work some more. I am actually scheduled for all forty hours this week. Crazy. Ummm, that is really all. Probably going to be seeing Ferris Bueller's Day Off for free in the park on Tuesday unless the weather sucks. We shall see.

Holy bands on the floor, Batman!

My apartment is full of bands, two of them to be precise--both hardcore. They are friends of my roomies, and they are interesting to say the least. When I woke up this morning my kitchen was full of drunk people who had yet to go to sleep--who were cooking me breakfast only they were too drunk to coordinate it very well to time. Oh, and it was 5am when I woke up. Yeah, people in my house. Lots of them. All boys but one and the one I like the least is of course the one who thinks I am hot. Thanks god, thanks for that. More later when not hopped way up on caffeine.

Home and in pain

I screwed up some muscle in my back, and it hurts to breathe and walk. This totally blows. I didn't go into work because I wasn't sure if I could walk the whole way there, and I would've ended up just standing there not doing anything, so there I go. Awesome. No really. I. Feel. Awesome. If by awesome I mean kind of crappy all over.

Ummmm, also. . .

Also, I bought Season 2 of Grey's Anatomy on and Seasons 1&2 of House on DVD today. I needed them. I did, and I used birthday money from my mom and dad. She would wish I spent on something else because she will underestimate the many, many hours of pleasure I will get from them. Dr. McDreamy and Dr. House, oh yeah baby!!! Ooooh, and Dr. McSteamy too (but not for long).

This post is for Jim

Mary Trotter is a friend of mine from graduate school who is from Rockford, IL and is at home with her parents for the month of August. Actually at this exact moment she is watching "Snakes on a Plane." She did call me, and we hung out at the zoo. It was fun, and I will get to see her again next weekend too!!!

Alright dudes

See, this is a post. I am sorry that I fell off for a little bit, but with vacation and moving I wasn't able to keep up with the blogging and then I wanted to wait until after the megapost to do other stuff.

Also, I have been getting out of my house a lot more often since I live in a way cooler neighborhood. I went to the beach and the zoo (different days) a friend got engaged, some of my boss types are leaving. Things are happening and until today the weather was perfect. Ummm, that is mostly all though. My friends Johnny B and Sara Jo and Angie have just moved to town. My friend Mary is visiting. Things rule.

I Miss county fairs.

I miss them. They are fun, and I wish I had one right now. The state fair is happening nearish here, but I am carless, and I think it is too far for a metra ticket. Also Mary Trotter is near me and not calling and I find that mildly unacceptable.

Much like meth

It occurred to me that my allergy medicine makes me feel really great! Like amazing crazy kind of high great, and then I went, "Wait a minute! People make meth from my allergy medicine." It occurs to me that there may be something to this logic. I take Claritin (but not Claritin D--the kind you have to show your ID to a pharmacist to buy), so it isn't the kind that had to be regulated against meth production. But really, meth?

family reunion the novel

Or as I like to call it, preserving everything for posterity. It all kicked into gear on Thursday after I got into town in the morning. The early part of the day was all about seeing my parents and my great aunt and just all the pre-people reunion madness--including a trip to the neighborhood butcher shop/mini-slaughterhouse to put all the pop and beer in the fridge, 'cuz the butcher loves us. That night was when it started getting crazy!!!!

My sister, my brother, and my cousin Brooks from KC joined up with my almost brother Ben, Tom's roommate Gabe, and Natalie's friend from work Sara (BTW Natalie=sister, Tom=brother; there will be a quiz), and we had some coronas at Nat's house before heading to the local double A farm team baseball game. Then, being that it was 'Thirsty Thursday' which meant $ beers, we drank some more--much more, no idea how much more. Sometime after the 7th inning stretch we decided that was more then enough baseball (on free tickets from one of my sister's students), so we headed to the local beer and wine only bar 'The Dugout' for guess what? If you said more $ beers you win a big fat cupcake. Tom, Gabe, and I walked over since we had accumulated far too many people for the car we came in.

At the dugout, Alissa (my sister's bf) was saving seats for us and for my sister's roommate Jen and Ben's older brother Brian and his friends. Then we adopted a guy named Paul because he was by himself at a choice table. At this point things get fuzzy, I know there was singing, talking, some dancing--in general much gaiety. My brother and I even managed some aerial dance tricks in this very non-dancey bar; it was sweet, we even got my mom to come out for a drink. Sometime near the end of this madness I managed to find myself in conversation with a 23 year old I have known forever which I thought was just an average run-of-the-mill conversation because he's 23 and (though adorable) it never occurred to me he would want anything more then conversation from me.

About this time the bar closes and my youngest (not-yet-legal) brother and some friends come get us and take us back to my sisters house. Here there is more drinking--this time tequila shots and tequila sunrises--and eventually some making out and more with the young'un. That is all I will say about that except that I had a good time and am apparently back to my old tricks with younger men, but that is what vacation is for.

Friday=hungover, big time. Big black circles under my eyes and throwing up breakfast was the order of the day, but I managed to recover enough to go winetasting that afternoon with my family. We even got free extras because we starred in a video travel journal for the winery. It was great, and then we were back at my parents as everyone started to arrive from all over--there was dinner and many hugs. Later that night we went to the frat-type-bar mentioned before in the blog, and the best part of that night was middle of the night tacos.



Saturday=all family all the time. There was good food, more hugs, more people, a horseshoe tournament (I made it to the second round), a rock-paper-scissors tournament, beer, late night volleyball, and a fight with my mother. The day part was awesome--all the fun you would expect from a reunion. We did the wave during a game of horseshoes.





The night part was good too--until around 10pm when my mom and a few of my aunts and cousins and my sister were all in the kitchen preparing for brunch the next morning and cleaning up after that day. I was in the other room with both my brothers and a few more cousins (all male), and I wasn't worried that I was shirking my duty because no one had told me to do anything, and I figured the 6 people in the kitchen were okay. Then my mother comes into the other room and yells at me to come into the kitchen and help people get ready for tomorrow (as if I was the only person in the room having fun instead of working). I go, but I make a comment about the painfully blatant sexism in my being singled out which gets me in a little more trouble. Anyway, I end up mopping the floor, but I tell my mother calmly (after I have chilled a little) that if she would like me to do something all she has to do is ask instead of singling me out for embarrassment and chastising. I am not psychic, and I am not going to invent work for myself on my vacation, and I am not a Susie homemaker like my sister--that just isn't the way life is. I will do stuff, but ask me or I won't think of it--don't single me out to demand things of me in an embarrassing way. So, she apologized and assigned me a job for the next days work. Then my sister and I went home to bed.

My brother, his two best friends, and my two cousins then went out and bought a gallon of milk each to drink in one hour or less. Then they puked, a lot and it is all on film. I watched some of it the next day, and it was pretty hilarious.

Sunday morning my sister, one of my boy cousins, and I get up and go to church with the fam, say goodbye to my brother, and eat a big brunch. It was awesome.



I finally get some rest on vacation after everyone disperses for home. I did a little more wine tasting, some swimming, and I got to see the wonderful new space of the children's theatre I used to work for. All in all a sweet vacation, and I got home easy enough on the airplanes and before the lovely new rules and restrictions.

I hate being in a frat-type bar with people I went to high school

I really do hate it, and that was last night for me. So I doled out info to my bro's best friend, and I flirted a little bit (in an unserious manner) with kids who used to be my students back when I taught--one wanted to make out with me! Funny--more so to me then him.

Then I drove drunk people around in a gigantic mid-80's model lincoln. Yea for midnight jack in the box tacos. Although as we left the bar a guy from my graduating class who was smoking outside, said goodbye to my sister and nothing to me as I walked past, but then we realized one drunk girl had wandered away from our crowd and we had to go find her and he noticed me the second time past. I mean I know that high school was far from my finest hour (I was way cooler when I taught there then I ever was when I went there), but I feel like I am at least a little bit memorable. Anyway, I am just a little bit memorable.

I promise for more adventure stories later, especially for the Thursday night adventures which were the best ever. Way, way WAY too much beer and too much cousin craziness that night--also something my siblings and almost sibling will never let me live down, but I maintain I only did what any reasonable person would've done in those circumstances.

Really Drunk=Really hungover

Just a fraction of the family with an inverse proportion of fun. That is the start of the family reunion saga. BTW it hasn't officially started. More stories later

I hate birds

Really I hate only one bird; the one that killed my plane and kept it in Houston yestreday. I hate it because it took me 24 hours (almost to the minute) to get from my apartment in Chicago to the airport in my hometown because while I was laid over in Salt Lake City my flight to Pasco, WA was cancelled. I had to stay at a Best Western in Utah for the night and catch the earliest flight to Pasco this morning. It kind of sucked--especially because I missed project runway but my wonderful roommate Renee texted me with updates all night. It also kind of sucked because Utah isn't exactly the kind of place where you can go find a neighborhood bar to hang out at. I am sure they have bars, but they weren't near my hotel.

Anyway, I am finally here now and typing from my sisters computer. Go, go family reunion.

Leaving Soon

Family reunion at my parents' house here I come. It even is a huge family reunion! Woo hoo!!! Anyway, I am very excited and may not be spedning time checking email and updating the blog until I get back next Tuesday. Lots of love to you all.

Sun and heat

The heat was intense here in Chi-town today. It was great to be really hot--I kind of like it when the weather is like that (as long as I can get some respite), but it was so hot walking maybe 20 blocks total in lots of short sections interrupted by air conditioning. It was so hot that the life was sucked from me very rapidly. Rough, I tell ya.

I am not dead

I'm really still alive and about to go on vacation back home for a family reunion.

Also, I moved and my new apartment is really cute, in a way better hood and has central air and heat. This is particularly important because we are in the middle of a heat wave which means the weather icon on my computer has left the little sun behind in favor of a flaming thermometer for tomorrow's forecast. That's right, a flamiing thermometer.

Ummm, sadly nothing exciting happened to me in the last two weeks, but I endeavor to remedy that on said vacation trip home.

Bug down my shirt and Steve Sondheim

Yeah, a bug flew down my shirt on the 'el, and I had to pick it out with my fingers and it was big and gross and I don't want to talk about it anymore. Ewww!

Also, saw a wonderful concert in Millenium Park that was a celebration of sondheim and starred George Hearn and some other good'uns. Must get to work figuring/fine tuning my audition for tomorrow.

Waiting

That is what I am doing. Also I am avoiding packing to move. Anyway, I may go hang out with Emily or spend the day at home, packing, not packing, and prepping for an audition. It is with the company that I am nuts about, and when I read the description of the audition it was so scary it made my stomach hurt. This makes me think I should do it. Three minutes total, it should be a heightened language classical piece as well as a commentary on that audition by a comic librarian character. The second part should be of my own devising and connect to the actual piece itself in some way making them a seamless piece. Yeah, cool and scary.

On a completely unrelated bent, I feel like I have spent a lot of time lately either freaking out about the future or dwelling on the past. These things have pretty much swallowed up my present lately. Everyone once in a while I get drug into the present as someone invites me to do something with them (a concert or dinner or whatever), but when I am not out or with my friends I am buried in this light form of grief about the future that may or may not be or a strange examination of the past and how it will reflect into that future. This seems like an awful waste of time to me. Well, last night when it occurred to me it kind of pissed me off. Anyway, I don't know. I have decided to go out of my house and do things whenever this whatever strikes me. Just get my ass to the zoo or the library or a park. Just live life and see what happens. I am still young, and I live in an amazing place, so why not enjoy it and quit dwelling on uninspiring fantasy or things that can't be changed anyway.

Drunky, drunk drunk kinda like scothcy scotch scotch.

Whoa, scotch is hard to spell/type when you are the kind of drunk where your arms are floppy. Why, you ask am I drunk on a Sunday night? Good question. You see, I went out for Mexican food with Holly Harper, and I met a margarita who was very large and on the rocks and chock full of tequila, and now my arms are floppy and my lips are buzzy, and I can't spell well.

Bye bye.

I saw Superman

And I want one. A superman for my very own, and could he please look just like the one in the movie? I really loved the movie. It didn't feel like a 2+hour movie, and Parker Posey rules! Holy shit did she just tear it up, and in scenes she shared with Kevin Spacey. She was all like, "Yeah, that was nice Kevin, the way you just chewed the scenery there, but watch what I do next because it is going to be way better and with way less effort and work because I go skills." Not to say that I thought Kevin Spacey was in anyway bad; he was a great Lex Luthor, but Parker Posey was so good she is in fact the greatest thing since sliced bread. Also, the blondy chic from Win a Date With Tad Hamilton should always be a brunette. She looks way better and could be taken seriously with this look.

Umm, more later because I am sleepy, but I liked it a lot.

I felt swanky and c is the new f

I did. Last night I went to a rock show at the Metro here in Chicago--a rather storied venue which is also a really fabulous place for rock shows. Intimate without being tiny, plus I kind of know some of the security guys which always makes you feel cooler.

The bands we saw were all pop-punk sort of bands starting with Army of Freshmen followed by Punchline and Chicago's very own Lucky boys Confusion and ending with Bowling for Soup, and I liked all of the bands who played. My roommates to be are friends with at least some of the guys from Punchline, so they were staying at my house to be that night. My roomies and I then went to the Smartbar right after the show where the drummer caught up with us, and we hung out. Also hanging out at the Smart bar were most of Lucky Boys Confusion and the guitarist (?--because it could have been a base that he was playing and I know jack shit about music) of Bowling for Soup and their various friends and hangers on (this is the part where I felt swanky).

Best story of the night--the men's room door at the smartbar did not fully shut, and where I was sitting looked right in on the first urinal in the restroom. One of my roomies pointed this out, and I thought it was hilarious that I may be seeing someone pee (hilarious and a little weird). Who is the next man to pee? The lead singer of Lucky Boys Confusion is. I saw him pee--only really I saw his back in front of the urinal and I assume he was doing his business.

Anyway, then we went back to our apartment and watched Dazed and Confused with 1/2 of the band Punchline and got into a discussion about the fact that fuck fails to shock as a bad word anymore. Unless you are really sheltered or young, fuck is not exciting, so the new shocking curse word is the c-word (as in C yoU Next Tuesday). It pretty much seldom fails to shock and cause discomfort, so C is the new F. And then I spent the night in a papasan chair.

Vera Wang has mattresses

What I don't understand about this is why? I mean I kind of get why she would design other things then women's clothing--like stemware or something--but mattresses? Does a mattress need a designer? I understand an engineer to make it super soft or sturdy or firm in just the right way, but why a designer? Does it really matter if the fabric it is wrapped in is designer? Wouldn't you think that people who could afford 'designer' mattresses could also afford fancy (or even non-fancy) designer sheets to swath them in. Doesn't everyone puts sheets on their mattresses at which point there is no way to tell if the mattress is designer, generic, or even creepy and bloodstained. Why a Vera Wang mattress? Why?

Why am I so tired all the time?

Seriously, I am tired like sleep was just invented and is the coolest thing ever. Not like exhausted from working hard or anything, just tired and sleepy. Like I never really wake up for anything. There is like maybe an hour or two a day when I am fully awake.

Sidebar. . .I was watching "The Cutting Edge" last night and it occurred to me today that their characters in that movie are way younger then I am right now and that the actors who play them were (then) way younger then me now. Oh my god I am old. I mean not really old, old, but I am old-ish. I am far, far away from my teens. I am really and truly a grown-up and there is no going back. Real life is not just a bad dream that will pass. It will not pass. It is my life now.

Yeah, that above was a moment of panic.

Working

I got to wear jeans to work today, and it was way strange--even though I had been looking forward to it forever. It was just weird to be in jeans and at work.

I need to start working out, but that would be easier if I didn't have four episodes of 6 feet under and Barton Fink begging me to watch them.

At least I don't work for the devil

Spent the unexpected day off reading most of "The Devil Wears Prada" and at least my nanny people--though flaky--were mostly nice. They are also going to at least attempt to find me something similar among their friends. Wouldn't that be cool? Or would it? Who knows. May look for some sort of waitress gig in my new neighborhood. Also will need to start packing soon, very soon.

Maybe today.

Birthday here and there

So, I had a wonderful game night with roommates of all sorts last night. There was a lot of tequila sunrise and some fn games at Janna and Renees with Sabrina. I have found that I am not good at getting people to come to parties, but that it doesn't matter because who does come has a wonderful time--even if it is a small one (the party not the time).

I was however let go from my babysitting gig during my brithday party. Oh yeah. They found someone who can come four days a week for the mornings, and I could never (and would never do that). I guess that means that I will be looking for a new job or a new second job or something. I was hoping to not have to do that for a while, but. . .

Oh well, I knew that wasn't a permanent gig. I just kind of came to count on it, and the money it brought in. At least I had saved enough money up to move.

Hot for Sorkin

So, I just watched the preview for Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip that NBC has on their website and I think I would have sex with Aaron Sorkin right now if he were in the room with me. I liked it that much (in spite of the very, very, VERY blatant "Network" rip offs in it). It even made me like Amanda Peet. Dude, I can't wait for September.

New Driver's License

My face looks thinner then it does in my other recent ID photos. This makes me wonder if my face actually is thinner or if it was the state of IL camera? Also it didn't take as long as I thought it would, and I did much better on the test then I thought I would (missed two signs, generic-y ones with nothing on them and would have things on them in the real world). Besides it isn't like I will be doing much driving with this license anyway. Mostly I need it to buy liquor and get into bars.

I am having a little birthday party tomorrow (which is my actual birthday). There will be some playing of games and some meeting of friends. It should be fun. Have been reading a lot today. Been kind of nice.

In a sidebar that I wish I didn't care about, Patrick deleted me from his friends on my space. He deleted me. That means he had to push a button that said 'delete from friends' which I guess makes it pretty clear how he feels about me. This made me only a little sad and really kind of pissed off. How rude! I mean come on. Our break up was not that horrific, was it? I mean I did cry a whole lot in his apartment, but it was his choice and he seemed fairly okay with it, so if anyone was to be deleting people from their lives, I think it should be me who gets that privilege in this situation.

Although what if you could do that? Just delete someone or something from your life. Like they never happened. You never have to run into them again or see any trace of them in pictures or your contacts list in your email account or anything? Doesn't that seem very dangerous? Things to think about.

Radio Shout out

Oh yeah, Jeff Simmons just gave me a shout out on the Portland Radio Authority while I was listening to it online and almost live (a few seconds behind). That's pretty cool, and so is his show (see country feedback on myspace). I enjoyed it very much as I surfed the net and reordered my netflix queue. Three cheers for the internet and how it brings peeps together so easily and quickly.

Home in bed with a migraine

No babysitting, no work, just bed and laptop and a few episodes of MI5 and Must Love Dogs and Sabrina's bday present to me of Rent (the movie) and a few books and some M&M's. And I thought a queensized bed would be big enough for me, but maybe not. It is definitely getting crowded in here.

Will come up for air tomorrow--to get a new IL driver's liscense. Woo hoo. And I turn 27 on Wednesday. I stayed up way too late last night talking on the phone with my darling Mark Peterson. Maybe we shall have to get married earlier then 40 or when he turns 40. Hmmmmmm. . .

Back to my pillow.

Here is a good picuture of the hair, and a good picture of me making a weird face

That is my roomate Sabrina in the background and my free birthday sundae in the foreground. They sang me the birthday song, because yes we have a birthday here.

"I can't like this"

That is what the two year old says when he doesn't like something. Like veggie hummus instead of regular hummus. This amuses me to no end. "I can't like this."

I can however like Field Trip Birthday. It was a small group (just six of us), and we had a great time. I got a little drunk--empty stomach, lots of hard a. Whatever, it was my birthday. They sang me the birthday song and I got a free sundae. We got loss and had to stop for directions no less then three times to get there--Google maps sucks! Very pleasant all around.

Umm, that is all I know. I am way tired lately since my life has been so full of stuff outside of my regular two jobishness, but in a good way. There just needs to be some more sleeping in for me sometime soon. Tomorrow will work.

Plus, I may have broken a bone in my hand, or just bruised my hand very badly, getting off the bus. It hurts like a mofo.

Trying Margaret's idea

Warning these pictures are not very demonstrative--as my sister said on my space, you can't tell much by them, it's just . . . short. Also, the one of all of me is distorted due to it being the reflection of me in a big curvy, shiny, statue. More this weekend, I swear.

2 pictures up

Only two. In one it is hard to see the hair since it is a picture of my reflection in the bean (a giant shiny sculpture in downtown Chicago's Millenium Park), and the other is just of my wet, post-shower head. All in al not the best representatives of the new doo. However, seeing my friend Brian's band and going on field trip birthday in the next two days and the camera will be out and about. So, there should be better ones by next week.

Oh yeah, they are on my myspace profile.

Coinky-dink

I saw the dancing in the founain on the weekend, but it was Joffrey affiliated high schoolers and not the Joffrey dancers themselves. The dance was splashy-splashy and kind of fun, but the day was roasty-toasty hot! I also managed to run into my friend Angie from U of I who is moving here in the fall, but isn't here yet.

She was sitting in the park with the company she has been hird to company manage here and with a former crush/obsession of mine. Anyway, I just ran over and hugged her and ran away since they seemed to be having a meeting, and I didn't want to be teribly rude but had to hug Angie. Fortunately Paul was there to explain to the other three or four people who the fuck I was. However, neither of them noticed my newly short hair. That was sad. Actually they may have and I had already left. BTW, pictures up at least on my space by the time I go to sleep tonight.

I swear pictures are coming of the new hair

Everyone who has seen it in person has given it rave reviews. It looks much better with the glasses then the old hair, and the consensus is that it makes me look younger and more fun and mor mature all at once. The younger and more fun thing is way true, and the more mature comes from it looking like I have become enough of a grown-up to go to a stylist instead of just growing and growing my hair forever. I just need to get batteries for the camera, and I intend to tomorrow morning.

The weird thing is I feel kind of like I am in a commercial for my life or something right now. I know that is weird to say, but I feel that way. I am like extra happy bubbly pleasant version of me or something.

Also, I went to see the Joffrey Ballet last night for free, and they were fantastic. There was this fabulous piece with men without shirts and women in little leotard things that mae them all nearly naked. After watching this piece I began to think all ballet would be much more interesting this way and not just because I like looking at beautiful half-naked (or all naked) male bodies. Seeing the breath and the strain of the dancers and watching the sweat begin to roll off of their bodies made the emotionally wrenching piece so much more compelling. Tomorrow I watch them dance in Crown fountain. Can't wait.

Dreamer not a Doer

That is what I am. I feel like I have all these big plans and ideas, and as they float around in my head during the week day and on the train they seem incredible, but I never seem to be able to put them into action. I feel like I am all talk.

It is true that I probably don't try hard enough or perservere long enough for things to really take hold, but the killer is I do actually try, but nothing seems to happen. The concepts I come up with for a play or a novel never seem to stick to the page without seeming trite and cliched. It is easier to veg at my house then get off my ass and do something--plus wireless internet means there are always unlimited time-wasting possibilities a short mouse click away. I also wonder if I really care to work on the actuality of something and deal with all the bullshit of real life instead of reveling in the pure simple joy of fantasy daydreams? Some days I would like to climb into them as if they were on the other side of the looking glass. Escape is what I want, but not in a desperate, sad sort of way--more in a tired, bored, and a wee bit exasperated sort of way. I am the current queen of the the grass is greener.

Also, I have officially stepped over the line to being the crazy girl. I chopped off my hair in front of the mirror yesterday (an obligatory scene showing the descent into madness), and I saved the hair (for future pictures when I remember to buy batteries for the digi-camera) in a plastic bag in my room. Let's face it, any way you look at that last bit I come out at least a little crazy. Plus I kind of want to figure out some way to keep it forever. Holly suggested I make it into a little throw pillow for my couch, and I am sincerely tempted. The one sign of hope that I am not completely gone is that when she suggested I send it to an ex-boyfriend, I realized that would be crazy in the bad stalked creepy way. I am definitely not going to be sending my hair to anyone. I am keeping it for me or throwing it out (after I have taken pictures of it). Maybe Brock Fisher wants it to make a sweater.

Maybe I should have named this post descent into madness?

Again, so soon

I think a blind man just tried to trip me on the street. As, I walked past he stuck his foot out, and I am pretty sure it was not in a stretching way; I think it was in a get your attention way, so that I would give him money. Anyway, are blind beggars suppossed to do that?

Also, this is for Jim, I just saw my first Superman Returns trailer, and I think going to it will make a lovely birthday present for myself. Also, if I could have Superman for my birthday (in a Lois Lane sort of way), that would be good too.

Carrie Bradshaw, meet my hair

Meet my hair because I cut it. I cut it--not I had it cut, and it is shorter. Kind of a lot--at least 8 inches shorter all over. Now it hits a little below my chin to right at my shoulders in front and the tops of my shoulder blades in the back (which may get shorter as I take a look at it dry). Before the scissors, it was at my boobs in front and to my butt almost in the back. Yeah, it is shorter.

It was exhilarating to cut it. I wasn't planning on it being this short--it just kind of happened, but it is great to have it short. I liked having long hair in theory, but it went up into a ponytail a lot of the time, so I obviously wasn't a huge fan of it in practice. Plus it is way healthier (what is left of it). I will be posting pictures soon--of the new hair and also of the wastebasket full of chopped off hair. Stay tuned (although they may get posted on my space or my yahoo photo album because I am not sure how to post them here, and if it is too hard I will just put them elsewhere).

Trying to cook and 2 yr old cheddar

I am trying to cook my dinner tonight for real. I have a chicken breast marinating in Italian dressing, and I have a yellow pepper I am going to George Foreman in oil. I already had appetizers of some amazing 2 year old cheddar, a braeburn apple, and some crusty french bread. However, the artichoke I splurged on was terrible. Just bad. Not at all good and a horrible disappointment.

I feel like my blog only ever talks about the minutiae of my life, and that makes me want to start taking in a bigger picture of the rest of the world. I don't really know how I would do that though--I mean, it may require me to have information regarding the rest of the world.

Also, a la my space, I did a "Heather needs" Google search and #1 was MEN . . . NOW! followed by 'two therapists' and 'to start wearing a brassiere' and 'to go to the dolly hospital and get operated on.' I am not exactly sure what is goin to happen to me at the dolly hospital, but I am in fact wearing a brassiere. The two therapists are a distinct possibility but what would that do to the first answer if in fact the therapists were to be men?? That is what I am talking about.

I actually have no idea what that last bit meant.

Dead Men?

Was it really necessary for the news networks to show the dead big bad dude who was just killed? I mean, really? I believe that there are a bunch of people who's job it is to make sure he really is dead, and I don't need to see his big dead face on my tv. I also feel they could show me a picture of any dead dude and I wouldn't know who it was. I just don't want to see dead dudes on my tv.

I have also sent out field trip birthday invitations, so if you live in Chicago check your email and your my space account to get it.

TUB DRAINS!!!

Thank God! Showers and bathing are good things. Also, I have discovered that I am not above bribing small children to get them to do what I want. I am unscrupulous in those matters--apparently. Although I have a magic touch when putting them down for naps and bedtimes--which really means they know I won't let them off the hook by pouting or screaming, they must give the sleeping a fair try.

Our bathtub no longer drains

It has been partly full of water for almost 30 hours now, and no one has come to fix it. Hello? That is the good part of living in an apartment complex--people come and fix things in a timely manner, or not in my case.

I spent the whole day doing nothing because it was my first day off of nothing in almost a month. Woo hoo--something like eight or ten episodes of west wing season 1 watched today.

V. Funny

So the other night I was goofing off in my room with my digital camera and some bright red lipstick. My goal was to see if it was remotely feasible for me to take a photo in my room with my little camera that could be used as a headshot without looking like I took it in my room with my digital camera and no photography skills. I just was trying to see what would happen. Then I posted the best shot of the group (most of which were way crappy, but with the digital you just hit erase) on my space, and I got like four or five comments on it in two days. Everyone loved it. I was just goofing off and I thought it turned out nice enough to be a new update to the photos I have on there. Now I am seriously contemplating if I could crop it or photoshop it enough to work as a headshot (in color--since they do that now--maybe), but I doubt it. It will just be way too different and look like I don't know what I am doing. If you want to check it out and don't have me as your MySpace friend already feel free to go to here and check it out.

I bought the best one

I bought this beautiful footed hurricane made of blue glass of light and dark shades swirled together today. It was half off and really pretty, and it will look really pretty in my room once I put my whole room together--although that seems unlikely to happen until after I move (the room putting together), but I know my new address now.

It makes me happy. I also bought a birthday card for my sister. Really big exciting day today I know!

Good Mail

I got an invitation to Amy & Jim's wedding in the mail today. Now I just need to figure out how to swing it. We shall see. It shouldn't be too bad if I can get the time off.

Also, I don't think I ever want to have kids. I say this because of the nanny job, but not because the kids are horrible or anything but more because of the pressure. If I have kids I will be responsible for their very existence--all of the time! Also, if they are crappy or weird or screwed up or horrible people, it would be my fault because I either screwed them up or didn't protect them enough from whatever it is that did screw them up. That is way too much pressure.

This stemmed from the 2-year-old being kind of a craphead today. Also have now seen both of the parents in their skivvies (the dad as he opened the door to me this morning--in boxers so it wasn't completely weird but weird--and the mom as she was getting ready), and I have also been present for some fighting. It was a little uncomfortable and totally weird.

Movie Day

I went to two flicks today. I saw the X3, and it had some way, way, WAY bad acting in it (by oscar award-winning actresses no less). However, it did have some cool action scenes, and Beast was way cool a la Kelsey Grammer who was having a blast getting to be a bad ass. It was fine, but not as cool as the first two (although I still want to jump Wolverine's bones and found myself enjoying a very scruffy Cyclops until he bit it early on). Speaking of biting it, what is with like hardly any of the original cast being in this movie. Also way cool ending moment of death--kind of sexy.

I also saw the Da Vinci code. Note to filmakers--things that make for slow watching: any time your main characters are 'thinking' a problem through because there isn't much to watch even if you do cool cgi things, also any time you have to quickly explain large amounts of history that it is important the audience retain because it gets boring and complicated even if you do cool cgi things. By the way, TDC had cool CGI things but was hard to stay with because the characters 'thought' a lot (how fucking hard an acting job had that to be--and what was the Tom Hanks playing John Cusack sort of thing, I might have liked John Cusack more) and because there was some seriously dense historical stuff being flung at me a mile a minute and I already read the book. It was mostly underwhelming, but not as awful as I expected from the reviews.

I fell in the river and sunburned my knees

Yeah, that's right Renee and I tipped the canoe over and fell in, but it was actually quite refreshing and not as freezing cold as I expected it to be. It was fine, and then I got a suburn on my knees only because there were holes in my jeans. It was a quite fun trip, but I feel like I was in the car this weekend for nine millions years. I saw like all of Western and Central Pennsylvania.

I had a really good time though. Meeting Janna and Renees families was very interesting, and it kind of taught me a lot about them. Their families are great, but very different. Plus I got to see cows!!! And farm land, and it was good.

Fuck Rain

Seriously fuck it. In like an hour (or please God less), I am going to be dragging myself, my pillow, a suitcase, my purse and probably some other little bag to the train and then from the train to my soon to be apartment. Oh yeah, and it is fucking raining!!!!! That will be fun--did I mention my pillow.

However all this is happening because I am going to Pennsylvania this weekend for roomate family fun. My wonderful roomate Renee's famly throws a bash all Memorial Day weekend, and I am invited. It should be ten tons of fun, but I will be computer free until at least Monday night.

Also the new Dixie Chicks CD rules!!!! It totally rules!! Also, a kid from high school who lives in Chicago found me on My Space, so I will maybe have him to add to my friends here in Chicago. Umm, that is all.

Thank God Katherine McPhee didn't win

But the big question is, since I live in a city that hosts an audition, should I join the masses and audition for American Idol myself? I by no means think I am an amazing singer, but I am as good as a bunch of people who made it into the Hollywood semi-finals and even a few who made it into the finals. Plus, even if I am not a great singer, every time I have the briefest solo in a musical several people come up to me and tell me how moving my singing is. So, what do we all think? Should I idol?

Also had to raincheck the Dixie Chicks, but I may get the new CD tomorrow afternoon (when more 'may' be coming in). Talked to the new boy on the phone at work today again (as part of work). We both seemed ridiculously overeager to help and super kind and stretched the phone call out as long as possible while still making it work even though our stores were quite busy--I think, this could all be what I read into it for no reason.

So. . .

A boy likes me, maybe. And I maybe like him. I am not sure. I met him Sunday, and there seemed to be a little something, something--but I wasn't sure. I also talked to him briefly on the phone tonight, and it was awkward in that I like a stranger kind of way.

The best part of this story is that I met him at a joint store meeting with another Pier 1. Oh yeah. We talked on the phone because he was calling my store about the usual neighborly store stuff (and our stores are very neighborly and very close by).

Anyway, so there's that. I might have to call that store more often and try to talk to him. My boss thinks we would be cute (she also noticed the something, something).

Being a Nanny is strange

It is by far the weirdest situation I have found myself in--not bad, just weird. Actually it is turning out pretty well. I am busier, but not in a crazy way, just in a more of my time is taken up way. I also am finding my life more comfortable with the extra money. It is just weird to be the help. It is weird to be such an intimate part of peoples' lives and yet not hardly know them at all.

Several hours a week I play mommy to two kids who could very easily be my children (my mom was my age with kids the same age), but I am a virtual stranger to their parents. We are finding our way to a relationship--a relationship where I am still the help who knows way less then them. I don't even know what dad does for a living. It is very bizarre. I like the kids though, and I was hugely relieved to see mom lose her temper with the toddler this morning because he can be rough and I was worried that I was the only one who had a hard time with it.

It has its perks though, like the look on the infants face when I make silly sounds at hiim that make him smile.

Friends

I just randomly talked to a bunch of them tonight. It was nice, even if some of them had missed the memoe regarding stuff that has happened in my life lately. It was nice to talk to them and hear what they were up to. I wish I could see them more often--although Mary Hotter will be here in Chi town in August.

Dixie Chicks CD Tuesday--will so buy it.