hit.self.destruct

2003-10-09T07:52:00.000-07:00

I've had a song in my head for for-ev-er now, but at least it's a good one: "Certain things I love, spend my time, I guess I'll have to unhook those hooks..."

I'm having a great day. Yesterday, I got to meet with the folks at the Omaha Pulp to help them redesign our website, and got asked to do some music reviews, too. My writing in the actual town I live in. That will be so sweet!

And the people who work there made me feel so welcome and happy. I want to do whatever I can for them. They're honestly the types of folks I would gravitate to as friends right away, so it will be fun to work with them. I didn't want to leave the office. It's total wishful thinking that I'd weasel my way into one of those chairs and work there all day. *sigh*

And my parents are coming! Today or tomorrow, depending on the weather and their ambition. They're bringing my Penny dog in the car, and wearing their Packers clothes to the KC/Pack game (which we're watching at John's bar). They want to rub it in if and when the Pack wins. They're going to get beat up. I love my family.

I'm so thrilled that they're coming. I've missed them a lot lately. And John is sick (I can't even hear him when he talks), so now they get to do two times the parenting while they're here. Dad gets to have a tux fitted, and Mom gets to be girly for long stints of time without holding back. Their visits are so precious. I know only children are always super attached, and I'm no different. I wish they lived here. I wish we could watch football together every week.

My spirits are up, the fall scenery is beautiful, I have "S'mores" hot cocoa at my fingertips, and the office is devoid of people, which makes things very serene. I love days where I feel like home is right here with me.

2003-09-16T15:47:00.000-07:00

9:15 AM - went to campus clinic with sharp, stabbing pains that have been persisting, but getting worse.

10:00 AM - was told that this was not a urinary tract infection, that I should schedule an appointment with an OB-GYN and get an ultrasound.

11:00 AM - pain has gotten much worse, doubled over and hunched at my side, I call to try and find an earlier appointment, and just skip it to go to the emergency room.

4:00 PM - have endured: a catheter (oww!!), a full OB-GYN exam (stirrups and John in the room, he is so brave and strong), an ultrasound, a trip to radiology, use of a wheelchair, a test of my appendix, and several bacteria cultures.

The result? Something is wrong. They can tell there's something causing tightness and inflammation, but they don't know what it is. Two possibilities are irritable bowel syndrome and endometriosis. One takes a urologist, and the other (another) OB-GYN.

So, rather than giving me *any* sort of painkillers, they want me to set up two more appointments with those specialists and go right away. I'm hunched over, I don't want anybody touching me at all today, and I don't know what's wrong.

Work doesn't want me to come in until I feel better. They said to take an extra day to make those appointments, and to be sure it's nothing that will keep me from having kids, or something that needs surgery or whatever. I'm scared and hurt, but mostly frustrated that all of my money went to emergency care that did, basically, nothing.

At least I know it's not pregnancy, an ovarian cyst, or appendicitis. I'm very tired.

The worst was that as soon as I sat in that emergency room, I remembered the circumstances behind my last visit and all the terrible memories came back. I try to repress all of those terrible tests and the police and the rape counselor and all of that as much as I can just to get through every day, but there it was, staring me in the face again. It all seems to make the pain worse. It's definitely an ice cream night.

2003-09-08T08:37:00.000-07:00

I realize it has been almost a month since I have updated this. Entirely too long. I do have a livejournal for the time being, mostly because it keeps in a circular connection with some of my Omaha friends. Feel free to visit that if and when you miss this mess.

Time has been moving at a deceptively slow pace of late. We haven't made much headway on the wedding checklist lately, and our trip to Chicago has been cancelled due to expense. Otherwise, just writing a lot of reviews (30+ have yet to be published due to a long time between LAS updates), enjoying the new apartment, and hanging out with the locals.

I've been thinking a lot about marriage and what it means to me, since having a long discussion about it with one of my girlfriends who is well on her way. I've also been thinking about the criteria for friendship, and how it can work both ways. There is a lot of "head-work" going on at the moment which leaves me undecided on issues, but thoughtful nonetheless.

Case in point, I have a group of friends here in town who have made a few derogatory comments about me behind my back. This would hurt me, except that these comments all surrounded the fact that I have a high moral standard, and they do not approve. I am engaged to John, I needn't date other people. I'm not going to feel bad about that. This seems pretty cut-and-dry to me, as I'd afford the same courtesy to anyone I am dating, regardless of the fact that we're getting married.

So, to have that in question as a standard of friendship -- "we will talk down about you if you do not fit our desired pattern" -- makes me think about what it takes to make a friendship in general. If my being me still gets a little rebuttal, should I give up? If I am expected to see the views of others as "to each their own," then shouldn't the same be afforded of my own? If I am not given that same amount of respect, then is it my job to be a friend on my own terms as well? Should I be setting others to a similar standard?

Just because I like people and think that they're nice... if they cannot grant that any one thing, be it morals or interests or thoughts, is completely individual (and exclusively respectible)... if other people cannot bend or take effort upon themselves in friendship, then should I make any effort on my part? It's a hefty question...

If I can't have friends on my own terms, should they be my friends at all?

This all comes in hindsight to a bit of drama going on between some of my friends that I have been privy to of late. There are hurt feelings on all sides. Above all, there is concern for the happiness and well-being of everyone involved; and a great amount of love shared by friends who have been there for each other in the past. Do you give up on a friend because they don't want you anymore, or do you keep trying to fit into a shifting dynamic -- even if things are tense and angry?

I do not know how to answer these questions to help my friends. I have not been close to any of them long enough to have a firm grasp or feasible solution. I do feel hopeless in remedying any of this situation, and despite the need for a quick fix, none seem to be in sight. I wish I could do more.

I have never been one who is particularly skilled in letting go, even when the signs point in unhappy directions. If the situation were about me, I would not give up, even if it hurt my own well-being. Exes who made me miserable are only one type of example, but it's very similar.

As a relative bystander, I do not wish that hurt or pain on anyone, especially since they are my friends. I just wish there was a way for all to get out unscathed. This all just makes my heart sink. Can't we all just love each other?

2003-08-12T15:27:00.000-07:00

Well, I have about an hour until John gets home, so I set the jambalaya to slow simmer, and I figured I'd plunk down for a visit with an old friend called Blogger. How have you all been? Good, I hope.

Things have been on a slow simmer around here, as well. My efforts in radio have been fruitless for right now, if only because a single spot fills up quickly. I feel a bit let down, but then, I felt very built up, so it worked in my favor.

Living with John has been good but trying, in the traditional sense of the things that matter most not being easy. He's a fantastic roommate, and I love his company, but I've been moody lately, and his work schedule trumps my sleep schedule. In short, I'm cranky and he's accommodating, and I'd better get over my part soon. That's right, I'm threatening myself.

I don't know if I like his ferret, though. It's not like Penny (my dog), where you can have it anywhere in the house and not have to worry. With Zoe, you have to keep a careful eye on her at all times. She might be pooping or clawing or destroying. She needs complete attention always, and as I put it to Bob, she's a "glamour hog." I like a pet I can afford to be careless around.

Zoe is really getting on my nerves, mostly because she's defiantly litter-trained (as in she knows how but just doesn't). She should stop taking after her formerly rebellious dad and just settle down. No more Skittles. I keep having fantasies of sticking extra adhesive Post-It notes on her, for some strange reason. Seeing little yellow papers attached to the top of her head gives me greater relief.

Succinctly, I've been in a bad mood lately, mostly because my life has little spark in it right now, and I feel like I'm going through the motions. John has been through botched oral surgery (goes back a third time this week) and the flu (which we missed Doug's band and Cursive for), so I've had to quell the mood swings in order to be caring, but it's admittedly hard when all I want to do is feel sad for myself. Add Zoe's insubordinate bladder and my I-hate-being-a-girl-week to the mix, and I'm about to go hoarse from shouting.

Whoever said emotions aren't meant to be controlled surely hasn't taken to account the other people around me when I want to go off but can't. If I really did, I'm sure it'd be a sight to see... really, it would be hilarious. Wrinkle-nosed, no swearing, bland anger. I've seen sharp cheddars more abusive than I am.

I've let a few barbs slip out in the past week, though, and I feel bad because I've taken it out on John for leaving my favorite pitcher back at the old apartment (which is now locked and gone forever), and not putting his dishes in the dishwasher (honest to God, there were seven glasses in the sink, just waiting -- and none of them were mine). I shouldn't be nit-picky, and I think I did hurt his feelings by pointing out these little things. But on the other hand, I think he knows how I get sometimes, and expects it. He basically just hugged me, and it shut me up. Good move, John, you're a smart young man.

In other, non-related news, I think I have decided to go as Bruce Springsteen for Halloween. "Glory Days" era Brucey, if you're curious. Tightly rolled white shirt, 80s blue jeans, a red cap, and fake stubble. If it means I can sing my rendition of "Bawwwwn in the USA" all night, it's worth it. I'd better get candy, because I'm the boss. I'd also better get duct tape, because the boss is not chesty.

I'm also trying to plan a trip to Chicago to see Ted Leo and the Spinanes over at Schubas. Bob says I can stay at his house, since it's so close and he has a fold-out couch. John would like to go, too, and see my old stomping grounds, and meet my friends, but I think that he won't let me pay for his ticket (pride), and can't afford to go without help. Without him, I won't go, because it's basically the point of the trip, but I don't know if he can let $100 or so, and vacation days, slide for a small excursion.

But with this letter from my Bobby today, it's hard to say no: "It will be so fun, and I'll finally get to meet this indie rock bartender. AND you can meet Erica. Oh I hope this happens. It will be superFun. I miss your silly face."

Somebody misses my silly face. I miss feeling missed... Heartbreaking. I have to go.

2003-07-29T06:05:00.000-07:00

Last night was the most fun I've had in ages! I went out for girl's "dark lounge setting" night with my favorite HBO knockoffs, Julie and Kelly (who were playing Samantha and Carrie, respectively). We all really fit our characters: Julie was super flirtatious and Kelly was intelligently quirky, and I ("Charlotte") am always the naive one with loftier expectations than reality permits.

Case in point, they told me about the movie Lolita, and the corresponding drink, and watched my face recoil in horror at the literary unease of both. I shuddered, or at least they acted like I did. It's funny how well-pegged we all are.

We stayed up late talking about girlie stuff like "how much it would take for you to feel guilty if you thought another guy was hot" (I wouldn't even be entirely comfortable thinking a guy is hot, and I definitely wouldn't let him lay a hand on me) and reliving our (in my case, awful) first kiss stories. It was a good night. I love those girls, and it's super fun to have a group of girlfriends to giggle with. I can't wait to go out again, hopefully on a night other than Monday when there's actually a crowd.

Of course, John called twice before I got home to make sure I knew how to get home and that I didn't need to be picked up or anything. He worries out of love, I know, and when I got home, he'd unpacked a lot of his stuff and was ready to snooze. I told him a little of what we talked about, and he was happy that I was loyal. He didn't use the word "lame", even though I did. Several times.

Beyond all that, I nominated my (boss!) boss for employee of the month and she won yesterday. Then, after work, someone told her I nominated her, so she sent me this really sweet e-mail in appreciation. I do love working with Lisa, she's a model employee, and I really look up to her. I think her attitude and determination are tremendous, and I was really happy she won. It's even better that she's happy, too.

And I had all five published reviews yesterday, which is the second time that has happened, and another feather in my cap. The longer I'm out of college, the more I realize I love to write, and I'm enthralled by music. I sent a CD out yesterday with my job qualifications to a promo distro, and I'm hoping they see my enthusiasm and want me on board. I miss being excited and motivated every day.

It wasn't so long ago that I would wake up at 5:30 in the morning and hop the first bus downtown to get early work done before class, and be so thrilled by the experience every day. I loved that radio station, just as I loved my night job at the literacy center. I feel like I've lost a lot of that, but that it's pressurized like kinetic energy -- soon, when it can't be pent up anymore, it will all burst. I am eager for that day.

2003-07-25T14:30:00.000-07:00

Tee-minus 42 minutes until the weekend begins. John has to work tonight, which marks the first night since we moved in that I won't come home to him. He'll be home around 3 in the morning, and I will be out light a light. There's something really comforting in that, that there can just be days when we sleep and it still counts as being around each other.

He helped me pack up my pots and pans over lunch, so all that's left is to clear my dishwasher, take food out of my fridgerator (I refuse to call it the re-fridgerator, especially since some of my stuff wasn't cold when I put it in there to begin with), and clean the floors. That's it.

It's strange, because when I've moved previously, it hasn't been furniture, it's been the odds and ends of my dorm, and I feel a pang in my stomach of another school year ending. Now, I have my whole life with me, I won't miss my old apartment (not compared to the cool new one!), and my stomach is instead jumping into my throat at the thought of all these things beginning.

We're still weighing the elope option very heavily. My parents understand, but his wouldn't, and I know it bothers him to disappoint them in that way. But, when the sentiment is really the focus of what we're doing, these details like cake decorations or invitation colors all seem so unimportant and unneccessary. I told him the next day we both have off, we should just do it, and he agreed. I doubt we'll live up to that now that all of the wedding wheels are spinning, but in my heart I know it's what we both want.

He did ask J.J. to be his best man last night, and Carrie is my matron of honor, which is almost silly when I think about it. J.J. is Carrie's dad. They're the cutest people, and they're so happy to do it. Part of me just has to laugh that J.J. is 60 and is going to be the best man for a 28 year old rock and roll kid. He can't wear a baseball hat to the wedding; neither of them can. Apparently, everyone is flattered and excited, and we're all glad to be friends. Those Ramseys and we Peterses. Nothing but trouble.

I don't know what to do with myself tonight. I don't know how productive I feel in balance with my burnt-out side, but I know there is more to do, and I'm eager to get things put away. With John not home, I don't have to worry about getting in the way of heavy lifting or restaurant-smelling laundry.

I think, though, that I just want to sit somewhere comfortable and take the night to myself. Maybe get a bath in, maybe sit on the patio; just soak in the entirety of the new place and let things settle. I'm sure my brain will thank me for the processing time.

2003-07-24T13:55:00.000-07:00

Sooo tired!

What was supposed to be an easy day for me of not-unpacking turned into an all night couch-lifting festival. And by festival, I mean in the same way the Ice Capades is a festival. The lame way. On the upside, it was cool outside, it went fairly smoothly, and the big stuff is all done. I choose to focus on that right now, because otherwise, I'm just beat (and there's still more to do).

My LaunchCast player is hitting up really good songs today, and for some reason, music is affecting me more than normal right now. I have such a strong urge to lay on the couch with John and just listen to CDs all day.

Bunnygrunt, Velocity Girl, Belle & Sebastian and Bedhead are all perfect today. My heart just wants to be pulled and colorfully painted, since my body has been so much of the focus lately. So sore, so overworked. My creative little spirit is crying for attention and breezy indie pop.

I bought candles for the new place today, because Hallmark had big jars buy one, get one free. One is natural vanilla (his favorite, and smelling a lot like cake batter for the dessert-inclined, i.e. me), and the other is Tequila Sunrise, which is not only orange, but it smells airy and delicious. I'll be lighting them tonight all by my lonesome as he finally pops the invite to his best man over a beer.

John's been really sweet today, countering both of our crankiness yesterday. We're so burnt out on moving, our collective patience is shot. It was all I could do to muster a smile in the face of another flight of stairs. We did our best to make Pixies references ("Take this couch and spin it, yeah..." "Where is my couch?/Way down at the bottom of the staircase..."), but by the time late night rolled around, it was cheeseburgers, heath ice cream, and the comforts of a real bed. Sleeping bag duly stowed in closet forever.

He went to the grocery store and bought me a six pack of Coke for my office, two of which are gone after we had lunch together today. The breeze is nice through my window at work, and the sun is just right toward my back. It was nice to sit contently, not worried about boxes or furniture.

He also brought me a sippy cup shaped like Homer Simpson that he found at Bakers, which is filled with Green Hi-C (Ecto Cooler, if you'll recall), and made me smile. That, and a bag of my favorite candy for us to divvy up. I don't know why he's been so generous lately, I think he's just happy and wants to share. I'm pretty excited myself. Every time we do something in our new house, I think to myself, "This is the first time we'll be folding laundry together," or something equally banal.

It's so miraculous to me, to know that the real, honest, impacted rest-of-my-life is beginning right now, and that these first days reflect a change in everything that will always be with me. I'm so glad to be where I am right now. Even if there's no real place to sit.

2003-07-23T06:29:00.000-07:00

Drumroll, purleaze! One carload left. Tada!

(Thank you, thank you, I'm here all week)

All I have left to do is clear out my disha-washa and put my pots and pans (and crock pot, and George Foreman, etc.) into boxes, ship 'em on over and kick up my flip flops. Today, Johnny and his buddies get the big stuff by truck, and I have little to do with that, so it will be one last trip and some floor scrubbing for this little one. Amen to that. I'll never be so happy to smell lemon freshness, I'm sure.

The power went out in my old apartment yesterday, leaving me with no clocks. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as I worked for four hours straight without getting antsy. But I hadn't eaten anything all day (that means 0 of 3 squares, people), so by the time I got back to the new place, I didn't unpack a single box -- I ate a sandwich and curled in the sleeping bag, exhausted.

I'm still pretty tired, but I made sure to grab some breakfast today to keep the blood sugar up. In fact, I went to Wal-Star-Mart this morning with the sole intention of getting apples and shaving cream, and came back with apples, pop, Gatorade, lemonade, snack mix, gas for my car... and no shaving cream. Maybe it's time to write "shaving cream" in big Sharpie letters on my arm; not only as a reminder, but so that people think I'm cracked and keep a few steps away from the girl with the leg hair.

I find it fitting that the first immigrants of my family to travel to the States came as circus people. They were trapeze artists and flamboyant people. I'm sure they'd be proud that I've revived tradition as a traveling freak show.

2003-07-22T09:08:00.000-07:00

Moving isn't fun. Too many back and forth trips, too many service-change phone calls, and not enough help. My legs hurt. I walk like FrankenSarah, or so John told me today. I now officially hate stairs.

I wish I had two cars, so that I wouldn't have to make as many trips back and forth. John would have been able to help, but he didn't have his car at all yesterday, so not only did I move pretty much by myself, but I had to pick him up and drop him off at work, too. It was a half day at work, but it was so long and marked by very little sleep.

Today I have to get my computer and try to box up some of the things I left behind, like my dishes, pots & pans, Christmas tree, dresser drawers, etc. I hope I don't drop the monitor! I would be fine dropping my TV or my box of yearbooks past as long as the computer was okay. I'll be very glad when this is over and we're all situated. Consequently, I looked good in 12th grade with short hair.

Enough of my complaining. Overall, the place is super nice, it only takes ten minutes to get to work, and the washer and dryer are the biggest blessing ever bestowed upon a girl with bags of orange clothing. No more cashing out for rolls of quarters!

Otherwise, work is increasingly slow, and there is very little to keep me from wanting to pack all day instead of being here. My mind keeps wandering, and there are various lists scattered on Post-It Notes with "stuff to pack today" and "whose car it will fit in." I think it's going to be a long time before I move again, house or no house. I'm glad I'm not a procrastinator, or there'd be even more to do.

Good news has approached in the forms of Ted Leo, Cursive, and Hey Mercedes. Ted Leo, because Bobby met him over the weekend and mentioned me as the girl who e-mailed him a while back... and Teddy said I should e-mail him again. I think I made a new pal. Cursive, because they're playing a show that John and I get to go to, and he's very excited. Since I've practically worn out my copy of Domestica, you could say I am too. And Hey Mercedes because I love them, and they're coming to town. They always have a place to stay -- even more now that we have three beds.

That is, if our furniture fits through the door...

2003-07-21T06:42:00.000-07:00

To put it in simple, common terms, my weekend sucked.

It didn't start out badly at all. Julie and Doug had an impromptu barbecue over at their house on Friday, which was a blast. I love hanging out with them. Kelly and Dave and Sarah (a.k.a. Susan, since there are two of us), and I met their other friend Steph, who is also really great. We played with Fashion Plates (remember those?), gave Doug a makeover (poor Doug, blue eyeshadow), looked at drunken pictures, and just generally had a good time. I love all those people, they really picked up my spirits on a stressful day.

Then, John came by later to hang out with the rest of us, and helped me pack more in the evening once we got back. He also psyched me up with le grand pep talk (ooo, French) for my weekend with kids. Wow, I must be feeling parenthetical today, please forgive me.

But the kids. Ohh. Babysitting is the most effective form of birth control ever. I told John that, while I'm sure I will recant later, I never, ever want to have children. No. Not ever. As of right now.

Some low-lights, since the weekend was so long and memorable: Carrie bought her kids special toys since she was going to be gone, as an incentive for being good (which they were not, but knew they were going to get toys, so I had to give them). One was bubbles (fun, messy, lots of bubble puddles on her patio being jumped in by barefeet; begrudging baths ensued later). One was coloring books that came with their own markers (fighting, markers everywhere, ended up on top of the refrigerator where noone could reach them). The third was the worst -- Play-Doh. Tristyn made some things he was really proud of, and Connor destroyed them on purpose. Tristyn, trying to be optimistic, said "Well, at least he didn't get this one," to which Connor pried it out of his hands and broke it. Crying on both ends. Play-Doh everywhere. Mad Sarah left to clean up.

The worst is that they don't listen. I can deal with smelly diapers and potty-training and screaming at bedtime if they would stop punching each other when I asked, and turned off the video games after being told so many times. Food was thrown, Tristyn got sick from missing his Mom, and Connor had several meltdowns during the night which caused them both to sleep in my bed.

The absolute lowest point of the weekend was that Carrie wrote a note saying that Tristyn knows how to get to a local park, and that I should take the stroller and let him guide us there. Tristyn claimed that he knew how to get there, but got us lost in the 100 degree heat for an hour. Not having eaten or drank anything before we left the house, I literally blacked out on the concrete. Twice. Tristyn took this time to run off, while Connor dropped every one of his toys out of the stroller.

When I regained consciousness, I had to try and run to catch up to Tristyn, who hadn't gotten too far, but I had no energy. To make matters worse, he was complaining about it being too hot, and that his feet hurt, so he sat every two minutes, refusing to move. I kept telling him, the quicker we got back on the road, the quicker we'd get home and have lemonade, but he was obstinate. Continued heat made me pass out again on the stairs of their house, and Connor wouldn't go up them, while Tristyn wouldn't come down to help. I had to keep my eye on both of them and fight blacking out, all at once.

Needless to say, I won't be babysitting again for a long time. Carrie was grateful, and in theory, I was happy to help, but I was so shot. My nerves were so bad after this past weekend, once I got home, I couldn't unwind, though I was so tired after only having three hours of sleep. I felt like my face was cracked from stress. John came by to help me finish packing a few things, and brought food, dessert, and a back rub. That helped a lot, as did an early night's sleep and the peace of mind that comes from it all being over.

If that weren't enough, though, today is moving day. I only work until 1, when we go get our keys, and I'll start loading and unloading car-fulls of boxes. My emergency box is in the front seat right now, filled with toilet paper, toothpaste, and other various needs, while the back seat, trunk, and floor are packed with laundry, coats, and comic books. I'm paranoid about someone breaking into my car, but I'm sure it's okay.

When all was said and done, we had seven paper-ream boxes filled with CDs, and it helped me put my addictive tendencies in perspective. I may not do drugs, and I may not do very many other vice-type things to excess, but when it comes to music, I didn't know it had made an after school special out of me. And with the fear of theft squarely in place, you can believe that none of them are in my car, unattended. Not my Brucey collection. Not my signed Matthew Sweet albums. Not even John's Lenny Kravitz CDs.

It's going to be a good day for track pants, minor lifting, and Pine Fresh lenolium. I can't wait to crack out my favorite Braid CD and unpack a home.

2003-07-18T08:13:00.000-07:00

I'm starting to panic. Officially. I babysit Carrie's kids this weekend, from 8:30 in the morning tomorrow to an unspecified (unspecified?) time Sunday evening. Then, I move on Monday, and have to be completely out the following week. I feel like I have no time or energy in advance. This whole time crunch ordeal is really stressing me out -- it's all such bad timing.

My ultraboss (ultra- because she's cool) is letting me sneak out early on Monday to pick up the keys to the apartment and start moving boxes, so hopefully the few beginning hours, where the energy is highest, will help me out immensely. Not to mention all of John's junk, I have no idea how he's coming with all that.

Enough worrying. I'm turning my eyelashes gray as we speak. I'm trying to think of songs to put on a moving mix for my car and unpacking and all of that stuff in the next week, and it's a toss-up between "songs to calm a stressful girl down" and "songs to perk a tired girl up." I'm not sure which strain to go with, but The Sugarcubes' "Birthday" will definitely be on there.

I wrote all five of my reviews yesterday, and asked Editorius for another package to be sent out, incase there are things that are just laying around his apartment, waiting to be tackled. I also did an interview with Avoidance Theory that is, by all counts, a theme interview. It came out really well, they were sweet and funny in just the right places. My favorite indie married couple so far.

I just got an e-mail from Merge asking me if I'd like to have an interview with Mac McCaughan of Superchunk and Portastatic, absolutely and positively my favorite man in rock and roll. Just thinking about how dorky and nervous I would be makes me petrified, but what an opportunity! I love Mac! Look at him, isn't he amazing? And he loves Bruce Springsteen. Omigod, hyperventilating!

Hearts popping out of thought bubbles everywhere!

Five Hours Later and I'm still as excited as ever, trying to think of questions to ask Mac. I was daydreaming in my car that I'd put some Brucey in the background and wait for him to comment on it. That's pretty lame, but that's how my mind works.

And since everything's so lagging, I'm clicking on news links, and found out that "E-Mail" has been banned as a term for French people, due to their strange obsession with not sounding American in any way. "Courriel" is the new term. Maybe a lot of Americans should start using it just to tick the French people off. Honestly, it sounds like hair color for mail carriers.

More bad jokes, people! I've got a million of them. [Insert "I just flew in... and boy are my jokes tired" comment here, as is John's favorite Fozzie Bear type joke.] I forget when we started calling each other Bear, but I think it had to do with a long discussion involving Bearachutes, Bearcycles, and Bearcuts. That sounds about right.

I have decided that an hour for lunch is enough time to drive home, microwave something, download a song, and drive back. This is not nearly long enough, as I should be able to: a.) take a nap. b.) listen to a whole CD over the break. c.) receive important, non-work related phone calls from the President, should he need me, or Mac McCaughan. d.) balance a spoon on the edge of my nose.

The lack of time for option d is truly tragic. If lunch time isn't enough time to do an amazing balancing act, I don't know when I can; and I refuse to deprive the world. Everybody, I'm going to be... three minutes late.

2003-07-17T06:54:00.000-07:00

Hormones make me moody, hot, and sore (plain and simple). I spent most of yesterday on the brink of crying-for-no-reason, and finally shook them out this morning thinking about going to work. Sure, there are days when I say, "I don't want to go," but there are very few days where I say, "Waaaaah, I don't want to goooooooo, it's just terrible..." I'll be glad when this week is over and I'm not in pain and tears. I'm really annoying myself with all this melodrama.

I skipped out on the Girls Night last night to catch some dinner with the gang (they picked me up, which was swell, because otherwise, I wasn't moving without prying me off the couch with an oar) and then plop in front of the computater to fill those hefty, estrogenetic places with some music. I downloaded some Sunny Day Real Estate to keep on the ol' hard drive for when the CD isn't close enough at hand, and it hit the spot. I miss the times when emo just meant deep and rockin'. Goodbye, Jeremy, Mineral, Promise Ring...

Johnny came by because he knew I was sad and watched Futurama with me. I conked out super early, and he took Tylenol PM to match for an early morning of dentistry (eww, at least work is better than drilling) -- but overdid it. I could have sworn he was dead if he wasn't snoring. Drool and congestion, the signs of life. He had his big flannel PJs and stole every blanket on my side of the bed, but at least he was comfortable.

I have a long day of nearly-nothing here at work today. With my (technically-not, but mostly) boss on the road, I've gotten almost all of my catch-up administrative work done, so all's quiet on the professional front. I got a package of [only] five discs from Lost at Sea, but they're all ones I asked for, and I'll bet they're all great. Today will be massive note-taking between phone calls and home row keys, I'm sure.

Curious folks, I got: Criteria, Jet by Day, Mark Eitzel, These Arms are Snakes, and the Statistics. Very much a Jade Tree package, but color me interested in what's afoot over there. And Mark Eitzel is always quality. I wouldn't mind if people mispronounced my name as much if it were Eitzel, because at least then I could have a cool connection. As it stands, I'll be thrilled to adopt Peters so that any and all telemarketers, substitute teachers, and census bureau members won't have to wince.

I know, marrying to be considerate of marketers is very thoughtful. I try.

2003-07-15T12:39:00.000-07:00

Upon Justin's suggestion, I picked up Beck's critically miraculous 2002 release, Sea Change, and brought it with me to work today. Sorry, Danger Mouse, it's not satisfying me today. I think it's one of those days where I need something more upbeat to keep me preoccupied. Some other time.

Phew, I threw my back out. If it's not one thing it's another! I'm trying to move, and did something I shouldn't have (apparently), and my range of motion is really shot. It's not so much pain as constant annoyance, but sleeping was very difficult last night. I hope it goes away without a trip to somewhere expensive. I need Homer Simpson's "Spine-O-Cylinder" (patent pending!).

Care and I went dress shopping as promised, but the one I really liked got pulled off of the shelves prematurely. We found one she liked because it made her a little more... ample, shall we say... and now I just have to take Sam with me to see if it works for her, too. Here is a picture, but I am dead set against the whole bandana idea -- even though, when you change the colors of the dress, the bandana changes, and it's rather entertaining. That's more Inner City than West Omaha gets.

John finally asked Sam to be in the wedding (his responsibility, because he knows her way better than I do), and she's super excited. Other co-workers, Tad and Ross, are equally jazzed, and word seems to be traveling fast now that he told a small few. They all really like me, and while they're protective of their "J.P.," they know he can handle crocodiles and sharks and well-meaning girls. Nobody seems to believe me when I crinkle my nose and say I'm threatening. Oh well.

Otherwise, I have been collecting quotes and ideas from some of my favorite and most friendly indie rock touchstones. The big question is: Why do you think love songs come so... randomly... by prolific indie acts? Do you think there some sort of stigma against writing happy songs? Is it hard to make them come off as sincere or “underground cool”? As artists, do you face similar issues?

Then I go about quizzing them for songs to play at the wedding, because all of the indie rock songs I like are either sad, bitter, undanceable, or just plain angry. Not a love song in the bunch, to speak of.

So far, there is a reply from Jason of Mates of State saying that he thinks there is a stigma because these sorts of artists aren't comfortable enough letting their guard down...

And a really cool batch from Travis Morrison, formerly of The Dismemberment Plan:

I don't know what's wrong with white people and writing happy songs. There are people in this world that claim that sad songs are better, but they're morons. Say that to Smokey Robinson's face, you know?

The fact of the matter is that people that come from relative prosperity have a hard time finding contentment to be particularly profound. Obviously, someone with Wilson Pickett's background is going to find it pretty damn interesting, so there you go. I wouldn't bother digging in indie rock for that stuff.

Opinions hopefully forthcoming from the boys of Hey Mercedes, and indie's favorite couples: Yo La Tengo, Low, and The Avoidance Theory. I continue to be interested to these varying and thoughtful points of view.

2003-07-11T14:31:00.000-07:00

My head hurts, and I think it's from caffeine withdrawal. I take it that the 32 ounces of Mountain Dew does not balance out the three cups of coffee I had yesterday in measure. Since when could I consume this much sugar without feeling sick? I thought that trap was there for my own safety.

Regardless, I found out today that Carrie may have a date next weekend that drags her out of town. Hearing in her voice how much she wanted to go -- and get away from her kids for a while, most definitely -- I offered to watch them. I'm not sure if that was sweet or pre-apocalyptic. I don't know if I can handle a two-year-old at bedtime without a tag team effort.

Connor, no. Connor, NO. Connor, when I tell you no, you have to listen. No!

In exchange, I'm trying to wrangle her (and Sam, if John gets his butt in gear and asks her to come with) to look at bridesmaid's dresses. I wouldn't be doing it so soon, but the one I really like is being discontinued on Tuesday, and we can get it at a heck of a price if we can get them sized before then.

The problem is color, as I love the ginger, but fear that up close it may be too orangey and not "blush" enough. The amethyst is also pretty, as are kiwi and cornflower.

I think the style is pretty and simple. The choices should all be measured against skin and hair color, orange, yellow, and white flowers, etc. And what is with that lady's hat? Did she see it on the shelf at the photographers and say, "Yeah, this makes me think of marital bliss. Let's slap this on with some fishnets"? It reminds me of what a detective novel seductress would wear. I don't need backup singers or vampy choruslines, thank you.

I'm really digging the Postal Service's first single, "Such Great Heights," and want to incorporate it into a mix for my car or something. It's weird (and often) when I can listen to a song over and over in a matter of days without getting tired of it. Cat Power's "He War" was the same way: I must have listened to it 30 times a day in repeat mode when I first got the CD.

I wonder what it must be like to finish an album and say, "Yes, this one's ready to share with the world, just as it is." I think I would change things too often, wanting to tweak or replace certain songs. At that rate, it'd never get released.

I also wonder what bands are thinking when they release something obviously sub-par. You know what I mean, that one "sophomore slump" album that just screams, "Maybe next time." Don't they realize at the time that it just doesn't stand up to the catalog? Combat Rock, I'm looking at you: "Straight to Hell" alone cannot save that album.

But I digress. I feel fortunate to be able to reference so much music inside my head, because it makes review-writing so much easier. I have points of comparison for everything I hear. It must be awfully hard for writers with limited knowledge to line albums up sometimes. I wish I could share some of my enthusiasm and get people kick-started.

There's a whole world of fantastic music under here that so few people know about: I bet if you asked the population of Omaha to name a band from here, nearly 100 percent could be accounted for in "Manheim Steam Roller" or "311". Of the percentage who even know Bright Eyes or The Faint, it would be a pretty weak statistic, and that's disheartening. If the whole city is missing out on "The Radiator Hums," it should be gift-wrapped and slid under every door.

Generosity meets music snobbery. I'd better step down now.

2003-07-10T06:45:00.000-07:00

Before I start anything else, I need to say that I have the new Death Cab for Cutie album here at work with me today -- release date October -- and I'm very excited to have it this early. It's so good...

Things that are also good: Flower shopping.

I didn't think it would be fun, I really didn't -- but it was great! The lady (Cheri) was super nice, the exact flowers I wanted are all in season in Nebraska-April, she seems willing to negotiate prices, and she even gave me a bouquet to take home with me of some sweet smelling freesia.

I was very happy when I left. I was also glad I took John with me, because his input was very valuable: it surprised me that he had an opinion of what his groomsmen should wear on their lapels, but he did, and it's going to look very classy. Lilies, freesia, and sweetheart roses for all; an all-white nosegay with stems for me. It will be beautiful when it all comes together.

On the flip side of all this happy matrimony stuff, I went over to Carrie's house last night for our weekly dose of the New York [Barbie] Dolls, and all of the following occurred:

Connor melted down four times, at least, in tears and screaming, and punching tantrums. Mantra repeated to self: He's not insufferable, he's two. He's two.

Helped Carrie scrub day old vomit stains from her floor that she was too tired to clean the night before. I didn't know I was that sort of friend, but I guess I am.

Watched wedding video of Carrie and her now ex-husband Matt, tempered with various "It didn't work out" comments throughout. Heard many stories about the hardships of their relationship, between him leaving her twice, his chronic substance abuse, and her continued patience in the face of hopelessness to keep her family together.

I love Carrie and I was glad to see her, but I left feeling pretty lonely. In retrospect, I know that seeing the side of reality that's not through a gauzy white screen is good for me. Marrying John isn't going to be nice and cozy every day, and there's going to be vomit to clean up, if you will. I may not like thinking of all that in my moments of haziness, but it's the truth. Thankfully, I have great faith we're strong enough to handle all of that.

As long as our kids are never two.

2003-07-09T09:17:00.000-07:00

It's a lovely day today,
so whatever you've got to do,
you've got a lovely day to do it in
that's true!

And I hope whatever you've got to do,
it's somethin' that can be done by two,
for I'd really like to stay!

Ah, Irving Berlin. Nothing like your happy steps to cheer up an otherwise wet, gray day. Actually, I like this weather because my hair can be a mess, and it's not my fault. That, and it makes me feel all the more energetic with the flourescent lights on inside. Rain helps me concentrate on the indoor setting.

Today is a half-day at work for me, and I am -- literally -- the only person on my floor. At 1:30, there will officially be no staff up here. They're all over at Pre-Service training, and I am stepping out with some vacation hours to pick out wedding flowers and run errands with (pre-)Husband Bear.

He's been in a slump lately, just generally down and tired of himself, so I hope that today will fare better. I know how that is sometimes, and it's hard to shake when it's all in your head. Maybe some flowers will brighten him up.

We found out yesterday that the wedding (April 3, 2004) is the day before Palm Sunday, so the altar will be decorated with palm fronds for our ceremony. I think that's good news, actually, because it will be a little "beachy," and all the more memorable and special. Plus, when we go to the florist today, it should make our job easier. What goes with palm fronds that is also in season in April? We shall see.

I'm in stages of madness trying to convince myself to (or not to, depending on how good I am) buy a bunch of the CDs I want. Currently, I am looking for cheap copies of:

The Postal Service - Give Up
The Appleseed Cast - Mare Vitalis, Low Level Owl Vols. 1 & 2, Lost Songs
Ivy - Guestroom
Nada Surf - Let Go
Dinosaur Jr. - Bug
Belle & Sebastian - Tigermilk

I'm wondering if I should just treat myself and not worry about it, but I feel like I'd be guilty grabbing all that, even if it would help me feel less edgy. Nothing like wanting something, knowing you can have it but that you shouldn't, to put you on the brink. Well, me anyway.

I hope today goes by rather silently... unassumingly... I'm not in the mood for drama.

2003-07-07T08:05:00.000-07:00

Lawdie, it's been a long time since I've written in here. It's not for lack of trying, but I keep having Blogger issues. Namely, I get sidetracked and it times out. Oh well, I'll draft this in Notepad, as it is the HTML nerd's most trusty companion.

Things that have happened since I last wrote, in no order whatsoever:

1. John and I combined all of our CDs, got rid of some of his duplicates and lame ones (Why on earth would anyone have three Lenny Kravitz CDs? Wouldn't you stop at one? Wouldn't you stop before one?). We traded them in and are patiently waiting for the mail; things between Mirah, Belle and Sebastian, and Mission of Burma will be arriving.

2. Went out for the Fourth of July with Doug, Julie, Bob, Neil, Susan, Landon, and Chris. Barbeque, a walk along the lake, swimming, fireworks, it was a good time.

3. I dyed my hair for the first time in excess of five years. Something called "Spiced Cider." I like it, but it's more of an enhancement than a change. Slightly auburn, very classy.

4. Saw Carrie numerous times, between our current fixation with the entire "Miranda and Steve" storyline and a well-deserved night out at trivia. I was Number One for a whole game, and it always makes me feel smarter when that happens.

5. Work has been slow but crazy. The woman I work most closely with is on a travel trip and hating every minute of it. It's not the same without her here, and I miss her energy and creativity already.

6. My nerves drove me to sickness one evening, when I was threw up the whole night, thus ruining an otherwise decent night for John and I together. I felt very guilty about that, but he just rubbed my back, grabbed the trash can, and reassured me that he wasn't going to leave me just because I didn't feel good. I'd have to do the same for him sometime, too. That made me feel better.

7. On a somewhat related note, I had a kidney infection and had to take terrible antibiotics for three days to stop the pain. It's over, but I'm still sore from whatever damage I had already done.

8. More boxes are packed, cleaning has been avoided, and cardboard is strategically placed in hair to make others think I've been working so hard because the big move is in 14 days.

9. Some of my comments have been added to this list at Lost at Sea. I, for one, am very happy with my Portastatic quote, even if they spelled the band's name wrong in editing. That album is so right.

10. I got glasses so that I would have a pair I would actually like wearing when I have to. But I'm currently wearing my contacts, so you see it didn't stick very well. Something about covering my face makes me feel ugly and ashamed.

11. Conversely, I got called "beautiful" in the Lost at Sea bulletin boards, once by a stranger, and once by John. Both are sweet, and I'm glad my writing style can impress people enough to write something nice in my honor. I really do enjoy my creative outlet there. Cross your fingers, I may have an interview with Yo La Tengo soon.

12. I ate at Huhot again, which is now certifiably the only place that I get undeniable cravings for in Omaha. So good, I can almost guarantee I will be back again by the end of the week.

13. Took this quiz and was very happy with the results.

14. Went to Shakespeare on the Green only to leave at the intermission because the bugs were eating us alive. Twelfth Night isn't one of my favorite plays, especially when you can't see much. Next year, the resolution is to bring Off, get there early, and avoid spilling red pop all over myself. In fact, those resolutions sound pretty good in general.

In all, I've been very stir-crazy. Antsy, if you will. I'm ready for whatever's next to get here, because I'm tired of right now. Every little thing is bugging me because it's not progressing fast enough. I need a happy change of scenery, or at least less things that prompt me to scratch.

2003-06-27T06:38:00.000-07:00

So, last night was Julie's birthday, and she's not only a year older, but completely amazing. We had a nice time last night at Charlie's on the Lake -- though my food wasn't what I wanted, really -- and then went back to Doug & Julie's house for cake and ice cream.

I love hanging out with her (both of them, actually), she's always full of the most interesting stories. She's a great "image-maker" as far as storytelling goes. She really knows how to tell it. It's fun just listening to her talk about whatever.

She liked my picture of the Teen Girl Squad that I drew for her (the Cheerleader says "It's my birthday!", and Whats-Her-Face says "The doctor says I have rabies." Everybody chuckled, it was great), and put in the CD I made while I was there, which was super sweet. And she let me borrow Welcome to the Dollhouse which will probably make up tonight's festivities.

Well, that and something in dessert form, because it's been another tough week. I was about to strangle one of my co-workers yesterday (the one who, more often than the other workers put together, is the cause of these strangulation fantasies), and suffice to say, I still have quite a bit of residual anger pent up. To make matters worse, she can continue to abuse me because she's "above" me on the chain, and any criticism I give her will wind up on my evaluation, not a goal of hers. Unfair. No matter how many good things I do, and how much I love Girls & Boys Town, there are too many days lately where she makes me want to quit; and is the only reason.

It's definitely not good to work so closely with someone who makes you want to leave the organization altogether. I don't know how people deal with folks like this every day without coming to their wits' end. I'm about to explode, myself, and I hardly ever get angry.

*phoo!* Happy thoughts, happy thoughts.

John had called yesterday just as I was on the brink of crying or sharpening claws (whichever was easiest), and heard that I was profoundly sad and frustrated, so he decided to use my spare key to come over after he got off of work.

The two problems with this was that he got out at three in the morning, and I was deeply asleep after a night of Birthdaying. I'm not sure if I screamed, but I know I at least gasped, sat straight up, and couldn't go back to sleep.

"Shh, it's just me, it's just me! You sounded so sad, and..." Scared the crap out of me, but in all, a sweet sentiment.

Meanwhile, he has the day off and gets to sleep in, and I'm sustaining on a crutch of lukewarm Diet Coke and endless breaks to kickstart my day. There's no focus, there's just Tim Kasher's vocals eminating from my desk and psychotic glasses-cleaning rituals to get the brain moving.

I need this weekend! Scratch that, I just need interest.

2003-06-25T07:09:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was the workday from the murky abyss. 8-5, non-stop, no breaks, no lunch madness. Everyone was stressed and lashing out, myself included, and I was so ready to go home.

I drew Julie a picture [ more details later ] and made her a CD for her birthday, and I hope she likes them. I'm very proud of myself, actually, because it turned out to be a pretty thoughtful gift, while Doug insisted it was a "no-gift" birthday tomorrow. We're all going out for dinner and drinks in celebration of our wonderful math goddess.

I think math teachers have the hardest job of all teachers, because if there's any loss of interest in the students, they tune out completely. But I guess that's any class. Still, Julie's quite the hot ticket, mathematically speaking.

Tonight is glasses shopping with John, then Doug's coming by to pick up a couple of things from my house. Quick dinner, quick smooch for the dearie-oh, and then a quick turnaround to Carrie's house for our weekly Sex and the City dish session.

I'm tired already, just thinking about this week. I've got a meeting from 1-4 today, my annual review [ raise! ] tomorrow, and a never ending pile of work I should get back to. My e-mail is stacking up as well, and every family member on earth wants to know what to wear to the wedding. I told my Mom yesterday that with 280+ days to go, Grandma's dressing dilemma is not my top concern.

My top concern, in all honesty, is a relaxing night to myself. I'm going to be one of those people who chronically stays in on Saturday nights for a sense of sanity not available in the bar scene. And I'm definitely okay with that.

I've been thinking a lot lately about what it's going to be like when I'm old. Not parent-old [ I don't even consider that old ], more like grandparent-old. I was talking to John yesterday about how I think I'm going to die a lot sooner than he will... which is probably true because I hate excercise and he likes going to the gym... and he got really sad because he says he wants to live a long life together and die of old age.

I told him I feel like I'm going to die in a car. He said I could die of old age in a car, and started to laugh. I got huffy and said I didn't want to go on a killing rampage as I die of old age while driving... and he said I could die of old age in a car wash, which was so morbidly inappropriate that we laughed for a good ten minutes. We're strange kids, but we love each other.

He's worried about turning 29 this year. I just turned 23, and I think he feels old in comparison. But I told him he's got the hot young chick, and some other humorously reassuring words, but I think once he knew it wasn't a big deal to me, he felt a little better. 29 isn't old, not by a longshot. I'll love him when his pants are up to his armpits, and he should take comfort in that.

Then, he started digressing about having the grandkids over at Christmas, and how they'll all love coming to our house. I started picturing my Grandma's house when I was little, and how it was filled with baked goods and warm yellow flourescent light, and I feel like my house shouldn't be too different from that. Less pie, sadly, unless I have a hidden talent I don't know about yet, but the same cozy, loving atmosphere.

Thinking of John's withered hands and a tattoo that will have faded years by then, but knowing that his eyes will always have that spark... it makes me happy. I'm an awfully lucky old woman, even in advance.

I hope I can instill the same sense of thanksgiving and true-blue compassion in my kids. I hope that they know the import of values and priorities over pressure and the worn-down feeling life sometimes brings. I hope they can listen to my music with me and not be embarrassed [ Rick Astley? C'mon, Dad! ]. I hope they like spending time at home, and miss it when they're away. Ten years from now, these thoughts will keep me company.

2003-06-23T16:28:00.000-07:00

A lot of good things have happened since yesterday, so let me indulge my sense of thanksgiving:

1. Carrie's [ cancer ] biopsy came back benign, which is reason to celebrate for a whole lifetime. Girl's Night In this week is going to be really special. I'm so happy for that news, and all that it means.

2. I found out today that I'm getting a raise on my next review [ my one-year is Thursday ]. I don't know how much yet, but it makes me happy that they think I deserve it.

3. I got my Pom-Pom shirt in the mail today. It's cute and orange and just my size. How sweet. Now I have something to wear over to Carrie's that will impress her kidlings.

4. I get new glasses on Wednesday, too. I've been a contact lens wearer for years, but with cute enough glasses, I'll wear them instead. I think this will help reduce eye strain from my long compu-hours at work, and plus, I can switch back to contacts for the wedding and remind everyone what my face looks like without glasses.

PS - The ones I picked out at the store are tortoiseshell, rounded nerdy glasses. I'm going to look like Lisa Loeb -- but, um, cool. I hope.

5. I got back in touch with my friend Jamie and hopefully my friend Heath today. I actually really miss them both, and I felt bad that it had been so long since we'd done anything, but I wanted to be sure the drama had subsided. I'm excited about seeing them again.

6. I created a list of my top 50 most "affect Sarah" songs, which was quite an accomplishment. See the right column under music for details. Any second thoughts I may have will be catalogued at a later date. For now, I'm happy with it, though I had to leave some things off. 50=50, after all, and that's the only math I know.

It really is a happy day. I love it when things work out.

2003-06-22T08:39:00.000-07:00

Everybody in my life right now is just too cute. My Dad called to tell me yesterday that as soon as they got home from my place, they went out and bought electric toothbrushes just like mine. I wonder if Dad got an orange one to match. Too, too cute.

My brother, Bobby got to go to the final Dismemberment Plan show in Chicago, and not only did he interview the band for Chic-a-Go-Go, he got to stand onstage the whole show, and tape it! Being the sweetheart that he is, he's copying the tape just for me, since I didn't get to be there. Awww...

Carrie's surgery, although painful, went fairly well. She's tired -- even moreso by her rambunctious kids -- but she gets the results back on Monday and is looking forward to getting peace of mind. We're all almost positive she's okay, but better to know for certain. We decided that either Tuesday or Wednesday nights will be our standing "Girl's Night In" together, because we both need it... and because Sex and the City is rerun that night.

It's plain and obvious that I am most like Charlotte. I've got all kinds of Little Bo Peep imagery running through my head -- lambs and bells, and what are you talking about? Eyelash-batting idealism, thy name is Sarah.

Things I'm looking forward to right now: The 4th of July (having the day off from work), pre-season football, a massive grocery shopping adventure, and renting Spirited Away the next time I can round up the troops.

The thunder is clapping, the skies are dark, but there's no rain. I'm searching for Ella Fitzgerald on Soulseek with a handful of Maple Nut Goodies, and for the first time in a while, I feel grounded and sane.

2003-06-19T10:00:00.000-07:00

Bank account... dwindling... [ weddings are expensive, but that's admittedly not why ] I've let a little too loose lately with the funds. I think it's post birthday spending disorder. Or PBSD, as we who are so afflicted well know.

Tonight is the Ring, Cicada show I've been waiting months to go see. John rearranged his schedule to go with me. I'm staying out late and going to work early, but it will be worth it. These guys are the most amazing new discovery of the year for me. Although I don't know how college kids stay out and get up in such strenuous patterns without falling over. What am I saying? I'm 23 and I'm acting like my grandma.

I hope my Pom-Pom shirt comes in the mail today. It'd be great to wear them to the show. Maybe it will restore a bit of my youthfulness.

I got another e-mail from Pesky Omaha eX [ POX - like a disease... again with the anagrams ] saying he moved and giving me his new address, which I don't need. Part of me just wants to tell him "This is all the great stuff that happened since you flat-out left me," but I can't imagine being that cold. Still, maybe he'd be happy for me, or maybe he'd at least push forward.

If that weren't enough to worry about, Carrie's surgery is tomorrow, and it's got me in sympathy pain and nervousness. I want so badly for everything to be okay, not just physically, but mentally. For a woman who needs relaxation and pampering, any additional stress is just wrong. This is one of the five things I can think about today. I'm pretty sure that's all my brain allots me:

Food is always on the list, but it is not always number five. Food might specifically be Thai food today, because browned tofu over basil is definitely on the brain. What would I have done if I'd never discovered tofu? I guess I should just accept that it was fate all along.

Squishy, flavorless cubes, how I love you so... *snif!*

2003-06-17T14:20:00.000-07:00

Listening to Tortoise's "I Set My Face to the Hillside." I love the Spanish guitars in this piece. I'm trying to think of sweet indie rock love songs that don't have a bitter, sappy, or sad slant, and it's difficult. So many of the songs I like are broken-hearted. I think I'll give up pretty soon.

Johnny boy came over last night, which was a bust. He was asleep before 7 o'clock and didn't wake up until morning. I slept somewhere a bit later, as well, but it was quite the wasted evening. Today, I feel like reading, and I hope I have the chance.

The book I just purchased, Shopoholic Ties the Knot has proven to be hilarious thus far. Not only because it's applicable, but the main character is just so quirky and enjoyable. In the opening pages of the book, she includes a letter from her bank saying that no, they cannot switch her [ joint account ] bill from "Prada" to "Gas Bill." I thought that was cute, and now I'm hooked to this silly little thing.

I got a call from my Carrie today that her biopsy [ surgery! ] is on Friday at 11:30 a.m. I asked if she needed a ride to the hospital, but she does not. She won't have the kids that night, so I'm going to see if we can curl up and eat ice cream or something, whatever she'd like to do. That has to be so scary, and I'm sure when it's over, It will just feel good for her to be around friends and not worry.

The lady I work most with in my department is on the verge of quitting. I want some happy news around this place, but it seems like so many people are breaking down. I sent in an application to be a paraprofessional over at one of the Boys Town schools, and whatever comes from it will be a blessing. I don't like the vibe around the offices right now.

Doug is a solitary man right now because his wife is traveling. I thought he'd be lonely, but he's recording a new album. I offered to drop off treats, but I think we're going to see my new-favorite-new band on Thursday instead. Ring, Cicada is the most phenomenal band I've heard in a long time, and this is coming from a real rock nerd.

Anyway, it's just weird to be in-between so many things right now. Not married, not single. Not quite part of the old family, not quite part of the new family. Sorta-friends, sorta-lonely. Uncertain health questions. Uncertain job aspects. All of these queasy feelings. There's got to be something sturdy I can focus on, and I think it may be sleep. I feel like I will look back on these days with the mixed memory of there being nothing brilliant to catch my eye.

2003-06-16T07:48:00.000-07:00

It's Monday. My parents just left as I was driving off to work, and when I went to get my keys, I started crying. I hate it when they leave, or when I leave them. I wish we lived in the same town, I miss them so much all the time.

It was kind of cute, I mentioned I'd like them to move to Omaha once they decided to move again. I figured they'd blow it off or whatever, but they spent part of the day driving around, looking for "FOR RENT" signs and picking up pamphlets to compare to their current house. It was like they wanted to move here, too. That made me happy.

Their time here was way too short. THURSDAY they got in around dinner time, so we went for cheeseburgers, then we had drinks with Johnny. All weekend, he was trying to psych himself up for asking my Dad the big question, so when they just showed up out of the blue, he was petrified. He did really well, though, social and nice. They like him.

FRIDAY I went to work thinking I would have to stay, but the meeting I had [ what I came in for, basically ], got cancelled, so my boss told me to leave around 9:30. I went to the mall with Mom and Dad instead. Then to Gordman's discount store. Then to KFC to get Grandpa gift certificates for Father's Day. I guess these are the kinds of things that make Mom and Dad's "vacation". It was nice that they didn't need to be entertained.

We went to Huhot for lunch with John, who met us there, and then out to Boys Town to visit the reception hall. They were really impressed I got such a large, pretty place for such a low price. It pays to be an employee here. Our wedding is coming together rather cheaply, and it's going to be really nice. Just what we all wanted.

Somewhere in there, we went to Breckenridge to see my new apartment, where John & I move in July. They were impressed with that, too. It's a sweet place, and cheaper than where I am now. I'm pretty sure they liked that a lot. They had pizza, and I skipped dinner to take a nap. They did some more shopping while I was sleeping, and then we sat up watching Home and Garden shows. They're suckers for Makeover TV. I'd better never get a house, or they'll want to paint my walls with sponges. As it stands, the white-walled apartment keeps me safe.

SATURDAY we got up early to watch part of Mystery Science Theater together [ Dad likes it, Mom doesn't care ], then we headed out to the Omaha zoo. Since the College World Series is right across the street, traffic and parking were atrocious. But we made it, and they were really excited. Dad likes giraffes, so he was happy. Mom likes polar bears, so she was happy. I got to walk through the zoo with Mom and Dad, so I was super happy. Things like that really make me miss them when they're not here.

I bought Mom a stuffed giraffe that she wanted, and she named him Henry after the zoo. We went to Aunt Mary's house for dinner, where Uncle Don grilled out the best chicken and pork chops I'd ever eaten. They behaved themselves pretty well, so my Mom wasn't nuts, nagging over Aunt Mary, and John wasn't freaked out by more "new" family members to meet.

SUNDAY was Father's Day, so Dad and I got to plan all of the day. I gave him Andy Griffith DVDs, and he was really happy. We had lunch at Taco John's, and all three took a nap at the same time. We woke up to the Cubs game and watched them lose in extra innings. Bleh. Then, we downloaded some music, since they left their CDs at home, and went out to John's bar for dinner. I told Mom I wouldn't get her Avril Lavigne. We set the bar at Steely Dan.

They really like the Americana type food at Old Chicago, so they were happy with their french fries and such, and John still hadn't pulled my Dad aside. I know he was nervous, but I kept wondering when it was Mom and my cue to leave the room. It took my Mom going out to smoke, and my following her out to the patio for John to corner my Dad.

Dad came to the patio a few minutes later, smiling and proud, standing with his arm on John. They were both so happy to have it over with. It got late somewhere in there, and it felt like their time here went too quickly, but we were all happy the whole time. Mom and Dad officially know the news, even though I'm sure they both knew for some time now, John can quit stressing, and we can all blab to family and friends now that the protocol is followed.

And as I said, they left early this morning after I got ready for work, and I miss them so much. I haven't really stopped being teary-eyed for the past three hours. I keep stopping just to have the lump rise in my throat again. This is a weird transition, this whole coming-of-age thing. Right now, I'm just scared and lonely.

2003-06-13T06:28:00.000-07:00

Surprise!

My parents, bless 'em, came into town last night -- a whole day ahead of schedule. Luckily, all sheets, towels, floors, etc. had been washed to their approval, and I was just napping a bit on the sofa-bed. Well, and looking to unclog a toilet, but Dad had wonderful timing as far as that goes.

We went out for cheeseburgers a day early, went to visit John at work [ who, I might add, handled extreme nervousness with grace and good humor -- my parents like him already ], then settled in for Nick at Nite and playing with the dog.

While I'm at work this morning, they're braving the Omaha mall, and I'm taking a half day to give them a grand tour of Boys Town, and several places I've reserved for the wedding.

I'm glad they're here early and all, but it puts us a day ahead of some of the things we want to do, so it's hard to think of things to fill the time. They insist that they don't want to go anywhere or do anything beyond watching TV with me or whatever, but I at least want to keep myself from being bored. Maybe we'll hit the zoo after all...

Thankfully, Dad likes my new fascination with Homestar Runner [ you thought I'd go a day without mentioning it, didn't you? ], and is having fun watching cartoons with me in our spare moments. Mom has already found three different pots to make tea in, and found an outdoor sitting spot for her smoking habit.

They sure set up home fast. I wish I could do that. Meanwhile, I found my "Sarah is Homesick" CD I made, a mix that includes some of their favorite songs for when I really miss them. I have it in the car so that they don't have to be subjected to anything that scares them. Soem favorites include Eddie Money's "Roll with It", A-Ha's "Take on Me", and the "Footloose" theme. It's much more fun to listen to when I'm not pining away for them. Though I still always skip the Rick Astley track.

All is well. John paid for some "top-shelf" margaritas, which are way stronger than they're used to, and it knocked them out in time for me to sneak off and catch-winks for work. It's funny seeing them relaxed like that. Carrie's step-dad came by to say "Hi," and didn't seem too phased about her news [ biopsy ], so he must have a sense of positive outcome. That makes me feel less nervous. He also told my parents they look "So young," which made them feel better, too, I think.

This is going to be fun!

PS - The archive finally works! Thank you, Blogger!

2003-06-12T14:00:00.000-07:00

Another day, another dose of Homestar Runner. I downloaded the sounds, so that my recycle bin says "Baleeted!" when emptying. It can't get much cuter than that. I want a goldfish, so I can name it Pom-Pom, and it can make bubble-de-bubble noises.

Silly things aside, my best Omaha friend, Carrie... if you'll recall, her Mom had breast cancer and finished her chemo last week. But now, Carrie went in for her annual exam, and they found something. Carrie is 32, frightened, disheartened at more bad news, and careful using the word biopsy in sentences.

In all actuality, she's taking it rather well since her doctor said it's almost certainly benign, and just a precaution due to her family history. She's letting that news comfort her. It's probably nothing, but it's always something, you know? I just want to wisk her away to somewhere where these dramatic events can't find her. Somewhere nice. Enriching. She's too wonderful to be worn down all the time.

I'm trying to think of something nice I can do to lighten her spirits. Once my parents leave, I know I will go visit her to at least provide some much-needed company in a house filled solely by her munchkins. It's got to be nice talking to someone near your age for once. I'm sure she's as tired of Yu-Gi-Oh as any patient mother can be.

Tonight, for me, is making the sofa-bed up for my parents [ they come in tomorrow ], vacuuming, buying a 2-liter of Pepsi for Mom, and then calling it all off. No more work, no more cleaning. I'm tired! My house smells like candles and Lysol. It had better be an evening of Futurama and Family Guy, followed by an early bedtime. Thank you, Cartoon Network, for helping me forget about the ironing I so often neglect.

2003-06-11T13:52:00.000-07:00

I have recently discovered the absolute joy that is Homestarrunner.com. I went through over the past three days and watched every single segment of this cartoony site, and I love all of it. I'm even buying a shirt! If you want to laugh, whether you have any idea who Homestar is or not, I guarantee that this is funny, endearing, and appropriate for all ages.

To commemorate this newfound love, you will see an icon of Pom-Pom next to the blogger logo on the right. Pom-Pom is my favorite because he's bubbly and orange. We're a lot alike.

I just got out of Zenger-Miller, a three-hour training that goes on every two weeks. Next time is my last one, which makes me a little sad, because I really enjoy them. We learn techniques for dealing with other employees and such, but the real treat is getting out of my office to socialize with other people my age for a few hours. I've made friends here at work from the experience, it makes me feel a more of a part of the big picture.

I went out to dinner with Doug and Julie last night. Part of the reason was because I just finished up the new Fizzle Like a Flood website for him, part of it was for a mix CD I conveniently left at the office [ oops ], but mostly it was because they're the sweetest, most fun couple in Omaha, and I love their company. They couldn't stay long, but it was still an amazingly good time. They're great to hang out with.

Then, I fell asleep on the couch watching a Simpsons rerun, only to be awakened by Johnny, who called a little drunk [ okay, maybe moderately drunk ], which marks the first time that has ever happened. He had a really bad day at work, so much that he almost quit, and he called for catharsis. He hung up missing me and freaking out about meeting my folks. I think that's a suitable range of emotions for an intoxicated fellow. Almost impressive. Today will be better, we're trading beer for ice cream -- or so I hope.

Mom and Dad are driving out tomorrow and arriving on Friday. I keep thinking it's sooner than it is. Part of me feels like it's Christmas, I'm so excited to see them -- and my dog -- especially on Father's Day. The other part of me realizes I will be stressed out while they're here, and keeps looking at the calendar to stave off the days. I don't look forward to braving the traffic during the College World Series. Maybe we can corner some ESPN action instead over a pot of Kraft Dinner.

That sentence emphasized, I definitely miss home. Ugh, and I need to clean mine.

More cool fun stuff to go along with my Pom-Pom craze [ though not related ], I sent Ted Leo an e-mail to settle a bet:

Hi, Ted! Err, Mr. Leo? Hmmmm...

[John] and I love your album, and have several running jokes between us about ghosts. So, your track seems custom built for us to giggle over and sing along with. Thanks for all the fun. But I told him I'd e-mail you to find something out. In "I'm a Ghost," there's a line about making toast. Is it an actual alcohol type toast, or is it (this is what I think, because it's goofy) toasted bread? There's something great about the imagery of a frosty apparition using up all of his energy to push down a little toaster button. But I'm probably wrong. ;)

Okay, thanks again! xoxo Sarah @ Lostatsea.net

And he actually wrote me back within, like, ten minutes! Here's what he had to say:

Wow -- well the giggles are now spreading -- it was originally an "alcohol type toast," but from now on, it's definitely a "frosty apparition using up all his energy to push down a little toaster button." Amazing... Especially since I just watched "Spirited Away" last night. Have you seen that shit? Lots of incredible "spirits" -- Mr. Radish Spirit? Woah.

I'm glad you get the humor in "I'm a Ghost." My girlfriend bristles at some of it because she's more into the song's "alienation from the political process" meaning, and it throws off her righteous indignation to think of smelly dogs and bratty ghosts who throw French and Latin phrases around and turn their Banshee howls into "yeah-ee-yeah-ho" sing-alongs. I think it just makes the indignation enjoyable. Which it should be -- I mean, asceticism: yes -- by all means; but self torture? No way. Right?

I'm off for tea and toast! xxoo--TL

I feel very satisfied by that reply, I don't mind telling you. And one of my friends said it was "hott" that Ted Leo and I exchanged Xs and Os. I guess I can chalk that up on the things I can tell my grandchildren that they won't understand board. Incidentally, I love that thing.

2003-06-08T12:03:00.000-07:00

I've come to the realization that I'm going to be a fantastically goofy wife. This morning, I searched the Internet for a recipe from Carabbas, and was lucky enough to find it. They only have one dish I truly like, and I was determined to find out how to make it.

Ten minutes later, I was at the grocery looking for fresh ingredients for tagliarini picchi pacchiu. Making it myself only turns out about two bucks cheaper than buying it, which was disappointing, but I felt awfully Holly Homemaker-y this morning, and found satisfaction in peeling the skins off of roma tomatoes and smelling fresh garlic cloves turning in olive oil, permeating through my kitchen.

If I ever make this again, I will know that two cloves of garlic is not enough, and that there's too much oil in the recipe. But the taste was definitely similar to what I would have bought, and I didn't have to go all the way out to 156th & Maple and deal with undertipping a snotty waiter.

In line at the grocery store, the cashier commented on the fact that my ingredients sounded good. I told her I was practicing for cooking for my family. Taking a hint, I suppose, she told me I had a lovely ring. I take great satisfaction in that. It's nice to know I will have added to my family. That I can be part of a home every day. Little did she know that it's really because Mom and Dad are coming this Friday. I'm so excited for that, even though we'll most likely eat out for every meal.

I'm freaking out about cleaning for when they get here. I'm half-packing boxes, half-cleaning lenolium floors.

Okay, so mostly, I'm downloading Bruce Springsteen demos and trying to find a cheap price for this book. But somewhere in there, my apartment smells like big, garlicky Clorox, and I feel like I've accompished something.

And I'm reflecting on how articulate John can be when he's not trying. We watched a show on TLC last night where they have six of your best friends plan your wedding, without you having any say... with the help of a dictator [ wedding planner ] and only $5,000 cash. If I were to name it, I would call it Please Save Me Hassle while Simultaneously Picking Things I'm Sure to Hate, but that's needlessly long, I realize.

Still, the more details I bring up with Sir Spaces-Out-A-Lot [ endearingly ], the more he takes stock of what's going on and realizes how many details are involved in planning the wedding. He's actually really helpful, which makes me very happy. He's taking some of the planning parts off of my shoudlers -- photographer, catered drinks, parts of music and decor -- and managing the brunt of them. It's sweet he's taking a great interest, and that he realizes the more we do now, the less we'll be stressed out on the actual day.

In perspective, I know we both want April 3rd [ insert threatengly melodic wedding music ] to be honestly enjoyable. And to help that, we shouldn't be panicking anywhere near that date. By that point, the leftover stuff should be in the wedding party's hands, and we should be gearing ourselves up mentally for life after the milestone. I look forward to having someone to work out all of life's major decisions with, as well as figuring out the best Homer Simpson quote and the important choice of what brand of cookies is absolutely necessary for the week.

This week, his call for glazed animal cookies was vetoed in favor of getting Blizzards instead. There were no complaints, so I feel business has been carried on fairly smoothly. I am very satisfied with our corporate dessert partnership to date.

2003-06-06T16:25:00.000-07:00

Food poisoning? The flu? Bleeding ulcer? I'm not sure what I have, but I've missed two days of work this week being the sickest I've ever been.

The upside? John's been trying to take care of me between bouts of huffy, curt attitudes [ his and mine, respectively ], and I had time to tinker a bit with this site to see if I like a new layout other than Javascript.

I'm okay with this, but the archive still doesn't work, which makes me mad at Blogger. I've had this journal for over a year now, and have yet to get the archive working. Blah. Short temper, detailed HTML trial-and-error, and the inability to keep food down.

That's the downside.

I bought roses yesterday for $4.99 a dozen at the corner grocery. They're orange, and they make me feel better to look at. It's not often I keep flowers around the house. Pretty nice. I hope they last long enough for my Mom to see them when she comes in on Friday.

Mom, Dad, and Penny. John, zoo, College World Series. Huhot, Culvers, Old Chicago. New orange sheets, moving boxes, and yes, roses.

Home is in too many places, with too many people. Sometimes I forget where I am in all of this commotion.

2003-06-03T06:23:00.000-07:00

That's me on the left, looking like my Dad, and a runner-up in a Miss Boys Town Beauty Pageant. I feel like such a moo-moo; not that I know what a moo-moo is.

Everyone's out at work for the next, I dunno, month or so. It's too quiet around here. There's not a ton to do, but the gray weather's not inducing cabin fever... it just leaves me wanting to go home and chuckle mindlessly over Simpsons reruns or something.

I'm feeling kinda dumpy lately, just wanting to stay home for no real reason. I've been sleeping a lot. It would worry me, but I think I'm warding off something. My immune system's giving me the grand no-no, and it's probably for the best.

I've been missing high school lately. That's super strange, but I guess I'm to the point where it's got an affectionate little place in my heart, and I miss having friends that I saw every day.

Concretely, I miss my high school boyfriend, J.P., but not for the reasons of dating, just because I've been thinking how much I took for granted having a sincerely nice friend I could count on.

I have a few of them now, and I'm not complaining, I just wish I would have said "thank you" to him more often when he was sweet to me. I wonder how he's doing, and I hope all's well.

My Mom, Dad, and family dog will be here in a little over a week, driving to Omaha from Indianapolis. I'm glad they're coming, but they always seem to time it out for when I'm most homesick, so that I don't want them to leave when they have to.

I feel like a little kid clinging to their legs sometimes. I miss hearing the sound of laughter in my house. I miss eating dinner with at the dining room table every night. I miss falling asleep on the couch with them.

It's a good thing I won't be living alone for much longer, I don't think I could stand it.

2003-05-30T06:43:00.000-07:00

I've finally gotten to the point in my pile of work where what I need to do is exactly what I hate doing... but I know I'll feel better when it's done.

Admitting and departing parents out of Girls and Boys Town care ruins my eyesight, it's boring, and it's also necessary. This ought to be a fun day -- which is why, consequently, I'm on blogger this morning.

Meeting at 9:30 with my whole department which looks to be pretty pointless. Lunch with my Carrie Dear and Work Bridget for a belated birthday treat. Then, when we get back, none of my bosses will be here. It's awfully tempting to take a couple of personal hours and pack boxes for the move.

...or do something entirely unproductive in anticipation of the weekend.

John made me cry the other day, not intentionally, but he hurt my feelings. He feels awful, and I feel so tenative, like one hitch is going to break it all to pieces. This is my understanding of relationships at least -- when they get hard or complicated, the guy always leaves.

John had better prove me wrong. I am, in fact, certain where he stands on the matter, and he's still trying to help me feel better, but I have years of insecurity and worry to overcome before I finally realize that marriage means I can screw up all the time.

Ha-ha, how romantic.

I got my picture and an article in the Boys Towner (work newsletter) this week about being employee of the month for May. I look like my Dad in the picture, which is rare due to the fact that I'm a Mom-Clone when it comes to my looks. I sent it to them, and they gave it to all of my relatives.

I know they're proud, but my Mom's only comment was "I see you're letting your hair grow out. Can you get it in a ponytail?" Thanks, Mom.

I went mini-golfing with Julie and Doug and Kelly and Dave on the holiday, and it was a blast. It's strange, but the lovely Kaboureks are going to Chicago this weekend, and I palpably miss their company. It's rare that I have a group of solidly good friends who are solidly good people, who I dearly enjoy spending time with. Omaha feels good because of my friends.

In other happy news, the church is set, the priest is invited, and the reception hall is reserved and ready -- we have a final date: April 3, 2004. I think part of the appeal is that it's a near-palendrome -- a palendrome for the dyslexic, if you will. 040304. Sounds good to me, I just hope it's warm by April, my dress has no shoulders.

I asked Carrie to be my Matron of Honor, and she was so excited. She's never done that before, and she's eager to help. John wants me to invite Sam from his work to be my other Maid of Honor, since she feels like she "set us up" at the bar.

I'm okay with that, but I'm only having two people, so I feel like there are others who get left out. At least they'll get to be in attendance, I hope.

He doesn't want to invite his brother to be the Best Man, but feels that inviting one friend will make all of the others miffed. I think it's best anyway, because if I had siblings, they'd be up there. Getting any pinch of decision out of that boy is pretty difficult right now -- I think he needs to feel the pressure of procrastination.

[ This means Carrie and I will be shopping for flowers and cake, most likely ]

So much work. I wish I could skip it all and just spill beautiful prose at John at the altar, not dealing with decorations or traditions or invitations. I'll be glad when I don't have a checklist for each day.

Knowing how nerdy, organized, and abnoxiously [ neurotically ] clean I am, that day will never come unless I put "Throw Out Checklist" on my list of things to do. Then it'll drive me nuts that I can't cross it off without taking it out of the garbage can.

*sigh...*

2003-05-23T06:28:00.000-07:00

My circulation is so poor lately. I've had several moments where my lips are all tingly and asleep. My neck and my arm have been doing it, too. It's a strange feeling when you can feel air pushing through numb lips.

If chocolate boosts circulation, I will be taking self-medication to heart.

We are back from vacation, of course, and have been for a while, but things haven't stood still since we got back.

All went well. John's parents are very sweet, but not in the best of health, so we will probably be moving the wedding date up to accomodate their attendance. It's a sad reason, but it's a good reason, and we're not very patient about the whole ceremony anyway.

I can't count the number of times we've almost run off together just to save the hassle of picking colors and decorations and such. It seems like so much more sentiment, and so much less work.

We rented a convertible for our vacation car and drove to the ocean for a full day. The weather was amazing, and I had never seen the ocean before, so it was very humbling. The water is definitely not Lake Michigan water.

We hung out with his folks and had a good time. They like me, and made several mentions to "Grandkids -- SOON." Not likely, but I have to admire them for asserting what they want, regardless. I don't know that I'd ever be so bold, even with near-family.

My birthday was Saturday, after our return, so we went to the zoo and saw the new nocturnal animals exhibit, which was more creepy-crawly than I would have liked, but the faux-swamp was kind of neat. I didn't find my tree kangaroo, which makes me think someone else snuck him out as a pet. I'm enough of a sportsman to know when I'm beaten.

I'll steal a Japanese squirrel instead. They look like anime.

We then went to get Cajun food at Butsy Le Doux's. The red of hot sauce everywhere, my bubbly waiter was impressed. Naptime followed, as did X-Men 2, which I found enthralling. Granted, I'm a comic book nerd and I love Nightcrawler, but I thought the pace was much snappier in the second installment.

Found a fantastic place to live, come July. They take ferrets, which is a concern for John's little Zoe dear, and a two bedroom with washer-dryer, lakeside walkway, computer office, and partially paid utilities is even cheaper than where I live now. We're thrilled to move, I know he's dying to get away from a bad roommate situation, and I'd love to have someone to read with in the evenings.

Got employee of the month when I got back to work -- had my picture taken for the online newsletter, and if it turns out, I think I'll post it. That made me feel a lot better about my job.

I had therapy this week, and she discharged me. I've been going for nigh on three years now, and she told me that I'm at a point in my life where I can take on the world. I feel that to be true.

I have a tan and an interesting, stylistic book. Trivia last night with Doug & Julie was a hoot, and I'm still smitten by having such wonderful friends.

My Portastatic review is up today, and I'm staying over at Carrie's tonight to watch Sex and the City and celebrate her birthday.

Everything's coming up Sarah.

2003-05-09T14:08:00.000-07:00

Let me say one thing before I continue... I love, love, love Doug and Julie. Not to mention all of our mutual friends: Kelly and Dave, Travis and Linda, and Bobby.

We all went out for Trivia and refreshments at John's work, and it was such a good time. Not only did my sweetheart foot the bill [ $115+! ] on his pre-paid in-store credit card [ which was so nice ], but we all got along so well and had such a friendly and wonderful evening out.

They're all such sweet people, the kind of friends anyone would be really lucky to have, and John and I both remarked that we were glad to be a part of the evening. I'm really glad I know all of them, even if I didn't know any of the answers to baseball, geography, or scientific questions.

I did get a question about racehorses right out of pure coincidence. That's what's called the Amazing Sarah Factor.

I swear; I win contests, I have uncanny luck finding parking spots and running concurrent green lights... I tend to have some sort of dumb luck on my side, and I'll take it.

Otherwise, I had an employee appreciation luncheon today, where they take two or three employees out for a free lunch when they've done something outstanding. I was one of those people, and I felt really good hanging out with folks in a semi-social setting and knowing that it's because my staff appreciates me.

Then, I had my employee evaluation this afternoon with my new boss, Lisa, who gushes enthusiastically over my hard work, and it really makes me feel good about what I do. I'm coming up on my one-year evaluation, and she shows so much enthusiasm for me, I can't help but feel great about Girls & Boys Town.

Plus, it's a beautiful day outside. 70-something and sunny. I asked Johnny if he would go for a walk with me after work, and he made it conditional upon buying me Thai food for dinner, which is win-win. It will be spicy drunken noodles for us, then a lot of fresh air and sincere poetry between us for the evening.

I'm preparing, mentally, for my trip to North Carolina to meet his folks. We leave on Monday, and I'm not nearly as nervous as I was, because I know how much they like me and appreciate how I promise to treat their son. They want what I am for their boy, and that means so much to me.

John's a nervous flyer, so I'm more worried about that than anything else, because I want him to be okay for our trip. But I get to see the ocean for the first time in my life -- we're going to Cape Fear and Cape Hatteras, and probably Williamsburg during our stay -- and all the pieces are falling into place in ways that make me feel the pinch of "this-is-not-just-a-lovely-dream."

I can't believe how some things work out, despite any loss of hope that I've subjected myself to along the way. Even when I've given up, life hasn't given up on me.

2003-05-07T07:14:00.000-07:00

It's a beautiful day outside. The geese are quiet, the real birds are chirping [ stupid geese hiss at me every morning ], the sun is out, and I smell like a coconut Lifesaver.

I only work until noon today due to a workshop from 1-4:30, and many of my staffers are out training, ensuring a quiet day.

I got a kiss to start it, and I'll get a kiss to end it.

John got to wear his big, baggy Chefwear pants to work, as he gets to cook for the first time in ages. He sparkled with happiness; especially since he doesn't have to shave when he's in the kitchen.

My life is really charmed right now, but I know it and I'm grateful. I don't want to look a gift horse in the mouth, as it were [ I guess gift horses have funny teeth? ]. I'm excited for our trip, but moreso that we get to detach from our jobs for a while and relax.

I'm turning in my application to be an assistant family teacher [ AFT ] sometime very soon. Part of me wants to be absolutely certain it's what I want to do, because it will no doubt run me ragged.

I don't know that a job, no matter how helpful and good, should feel like work. But the other part of me knows how important it is that I do something to help others with my life, so that my being here is not just for me. I want to help as many people as I can, but I can't help but feel a little tired at the thought.

It will all make sense. That's what "later" is for.

2003-05-02T06:20:00.000-07:00

Oh, Friday morning. Easily a very brain dead time of the week, especially when the time has dragged on as much as this week has. I can feel every second of work time; it makes me restless for fresh air.

Yesterday was John's and my night out, and for the first time in honest-to-God months, he didn't work on Thursday. It's his shift. So where did we go? His workplace, of course, to visit with the regulars and play trivia.

It was fun for a while, but we didn't stay long, and I kept a.) losing trivia [big time], and b.) staring out the window, pining for the outdoors.

I've never been so cooped up at a job before, without being able to walk around outside from one class to another or what-have-you. I'm starting to sympathize with my dog in that regard.

We drove home, watched The Simpsons, and fell asleep really early -- which is a normal and nice night.

He has another day off today and said something about dill potato chips, and I have to laugh to think of how much those little things make up the day.

I saw a commercial for X2 during SportsCenter this morning [Cubs won, Bucks & Pacers lost], and I really want to see it on opening weekend. Nightcrawler's in it; that fact alone makes the movie for me. It might be a Sunday after Mass bit-o'-goodness.

I want to go for a walk. I want to read something by Hemingway. I want frozen yogurt and the smell of a freshly mowed lawn, and I miss my family.

2003-04-27T16:52:00.000-07:00

Doug and his band were awesome last night. I feel I should say that first, because my night was made by hearing "Don't Go", and later, Ben Gibbard's cover of "Against All Odds" when his computer broke down.

That said, the night was warm in temperature and spirit. Doug and his wife, Julie, met up with me at Johnny's bar for dinner, and brough their friend/bassist Bob along. I hadn't met Julie or Bob before, but they were both wonderful people, and it was a good time just sitting and talking with friendly folks.

John brought our food to us, even though he doesn't wait tables, which I thought was really sweet. He also picked up the tab, which won him some friend-given Brownie points. Three more, and I'm baking him brownies, I think. Nyuk-nyuk.

The folks at his work were coming back to report on me, or so he told me later. They all took turns walking by the table, between Megan and Tad and Bridget, and apparently, they're all pretty happy that I'm a nice girl. It's goofy in a really sweet way.

Anyway, one desperately healthy salad and a trip for hairspray later, we headed out toward the Sokol for the night. Doug's band played first, and they were so cheery and enjoyable. Their music really makes me happy in that "I wish my school dances were like Marty McFly's" kinda way. I get wistful. It's all truly heartfelt, and they're such nice people.

In fact, I sat at the merch table with Julie and a few of her friends, and the band slowly filtered back. Every one of them is just fantastic. For the first time in a really long time, I felt like I was among a group of friends whose company I really enjoyed.

I hope we do this again really soon.

Beyond their company, however, the rest of the night was a little tougher. Cex played, and I really don't enjoy his Nine Inch Nails/Eminem inspired white confidence rap antics. Just not me. And the Postal Service was a little too loud live to compare with the intricacy and beauty of their CD.

I was ready to go home and see John, who drove over after he got off of work and was asleep in my bed after he called me to make sure I was okay.

My copy of Microserfs was out, his glasses sprawled across the pages, and he looked so comfortable. I love coming home to that. I can't believe I'm getting married to someone who, when they breathe in their sleep, they melt my heart. This is just too good.

Certifiably lame. I know. Six hours go by and I'm mush just listening to him sleep. Awww...

In comparison, today was just a nap for me, an unending list of Peter Gabriel tracks to download (thanks to Doug's recommendation), an early work day for John...

And an episode of the Simpsons where David Byrne guest stars to help Homer write a hit song about how much he hates Flanders.

I count this as a great weekend.

2003-04-25T07:47:00.000-07:00

My interview with Douggie, as himself and as Ja Rule, is up today. It's hilarious, he's such a cut-up. And by that, I mean, he helps me cook because I'm not allowed to play with knives, and I can't chop carrots with my safety scissors.

John and I went to see Matt Pond PA, Bitter Bitter Weeks, and Lefty's Deceiver on Wednesday night, and it was quite possibly the best show I've been to in over a year.

I don't remember having so much fun at a show in a long time, and all three bands were spectacular. If you get a chance to see any of them (MPPA and Lefty's, especially), take it. We were only 2 of 12 people who made it out to the Sokol, and we will be rubbing in the missed opportunity to our friends for a long time. It was that good.

Forward to after the show, we offered to let the band stay at (John's) house, so nine people were in his cavernous living room, sleeping with enough room for the first time since they left Philly. They were so nice, and super appreciative. John was excited to have "real rock stars staying at his house." It was really cute to see him go nerdy over it.

Otherwise, just kind of letting things settle down a bit. I've had a busy week so far, and I got a lot of rest last night in order to recoup. I also arranged a "regiment" of sorts to get myself ready for my trip to North Carolina. As dorky as all this sounds (and is), the following will occur daily, if my mentality holds out:

Crest White Strips, two times a day.

A solid 15-30 minutes of sit-ups.

One meal substituted with Slim-Fast.

Resume use of perscription anti-perspirant every night before bed, so that all I need is deodorant during the day.

With any luck, I will be five pounds lighter, smile brighter, and able to raise my hand when I'm sure (by my flight on May 12th).

If I don't make some sort of concrete list, I won't stick to it. That's just how it goes.

Otherwise, John's got the day off, and I'm looking to rent a movie, if he agrees to that. Part of me just wants to wear comfy clothes all day and spend as little money as possible. I think he can comply to all that. He tells me I need to see Grosse Point Blank, I tell him I want to see Citizen Kane again, and that if his picks are anything like Army of Darkness, I'm in charge of movies from here on out. He looks bashful, and I end up probably liking Army of Darkness on repeat watchings. Maybe. I'm still pretty mad he didn't like Babe.

In the talking pig movie genre, as well as in all other genres, it's a mighty fine and heart-warming movie. And nobody's arm has a chain saw attached, so there.

2003-04-22T08:45:00.000-07:00

Overtired. Cranky. Pepsi not working.

I don't know how else I feel right now. I went out last night with my Carrie bear and her youngest son, Connor, to the mall. He's two, so he's a handful, and I took care of him while Care went top shopping. It was a good time.

I bought a candle and found the perfect wedding dress at a great price [ though they didn't have my size, so I'm calling around after work ], and it was just good to get out with her and have a nice night together.

She's a wonderful friend. I know she's worried about her Mom's cancer, understandably, but she doesn't let anything crush her sweet spirit, and I admire that so much. Plus, her son said "Night night, Sarah" to me as I got out of the car, which was just darling.

Then, I started getting lonely when I got in, so I called my Johnny, and at a moment's noticed, he dropped what he was planning and came over. I felt kinda bad that I was having him rearrange his plans, but he said if I wanted company, he wanted to be there. He's so sweet.

He's sleeping in my bed at the moment, since I go to work so much earlier than he has to be up [ it's his day off ], and the thought of that makes me happy. I know when I get home, there will be Post-It note hiding for me somewhere. Last time, it was in a carton of Nutter Butters, telling me to have a cookie.

But then, I got to work today, and was checking the news on Yahoo!. And in the corner, it said I had new Yahoo!mail, which is an account I never use... and upon looking, it was from my ex.

This is why I don't know how to feel. He asked for my phone number, said that his plans to move were cancelled, and that he wanted to start hanging out again since there are no hard feelings.

The problem is, I know what he means by that, and before I can even try to soften the blow, if I do see him, he'll see the ring.

I'm not sad, or angry, or confused, because my feelings for John are absolute and perfect. I'm getting married, for God's sake, and I take that very seriously. John is it, no one else makes sense. But just because my life is so wonderful right now doesn't mean I want to make Eric feel bad when he's trying to reach out to someone.

Basically, after all the crap he put me through, I still don't want to hurt him. I don't want to deny him my friendship, but I do think it would be easier on him this way. I guess it's not my job to protect him. And if he really is my friend, then he'll be happy for me.

I'm glad my perspective has changed enough to know how beautiful everything is. Despite any incidental, unimportant bits of drama, I am so, so lucky.

2003-04-21T12:52:00.000-07:00

This is my time of year, yes-yes. Actually, I think 2003 is the year of little me. But this weekend was fab.

Freitag, I got out at 11 from work for Good Friday and took the most wonderful nap for four hours, missing everything from phone calls to fresh air, but not caring a bit. It was cold and rainy, and I had to forego neither of those in my soft sateen sheets.

Sartre Day, I piddled around downloading songs during the day, making a general waste of things but acquiring the new Thorns album, which was quite the find.

John got off of work at five or so, so he came by and we played Yahtzee for the first time together...

I told him for weeks and weeks now that I'm the Yahtzee champion, and cannot/will not be beaten, and he touted up this huge false self-confidence that he was going to make me eat my words.

I skunked him again and again. I didn't rub it in, but in my mind, it was all tongue-sticking-out, dice rattling intensity. Okay, maybe not. Maybe it was just cute.

Then, my dearest Doug came by to pick me up for the Cat Power show, and I was reaffirmed that he is one of the three nicest people I've met here in Omaha over this year. I like him lots, and despite sleepy, disappointingly boring music, I had a good time.

I got dropped off at John's overnight, since we had to be up really early for Easter, and we had to be on his side of town. We volunteered by serving food, hygiene bags, and Easter baskets to the less fortunate folks and their children.

You'd be surprised how many of them seemed like they hadn't had a decent conversation with someone who cared about them in years. It felt good to be with them, spreading warmth and making the day a little better. For all of us, no doubt.

Sick of looking at food, it was a take-out and Simpsons rerun kinda night for Mr. and I, and his parents sent me seven pictures of him today. Now that they know the big news, they're so excited. They call all the time, they send all sorts of nice e-mails, and they can't wait for us to visit.

I'm more than a little nervous for that (in three weeks, more or less), but that's just because I want them to know I really love their son, and am going to take care of him as best I can. I'm pretty sure they know I have good intentions. They even sign their letters "Mom" and "Dad".

It's all just too, too sweet. I'm happy.

2003-04-08T05:59:00.000-07:00

xoxo the soon-to-be-Mrs.

2003-03-14T14:08:00.000-08:00

I have one of those gigantic secrets that I have to keep, even though it's very, very good news and I'm having a very hard time not saying anything.

My willpower is dying over this. But I promised to tell my parents first. For the most part, I've followed that to the letter, though I blurted a little something to Friend X and Priest Y.

There I go, I've said too much.

Soon enough, though, I can give away all the details and start getting ready for a huge life change.

Tonight, however, I'm helping with someone else's life change. My friend Carrie is moving into her first apartment by herself -- ever! -- and I'm helping her unpack after the movers leave.

Then, I think I'll go with her to visit my Johnny and maybe relax a bit at the bar.

I look forward to helping her, and I'm so proud of her for having saved up enough money to afford a new car, get her kids through daycare, and afford to move out of her parents' home.

She is such a beautiful person, as is her mother. Carrie's Mom (Jan) had her port put in yesterday for chemo, and is readying to shave her head soon. She's so brave; they both are.

One packed up all of her belongings after her husband left her and moved to a city (with two young children!) sight-unseen. The other found out she had breast cancer and is living entirely off of determination and love. I am in awe of my friends.

I am also very much in awe of John. Look at this:

I love you. There is no other way to put it...I love you. I've been through a lot tonight, but you were my strength. I want to be with you, always.

That's my boy. My clever, sweet, literate, Simpsons-and-football loving, culinary-school attending, steady-job-having, loyal, committed, slightly-nerdy, inspiring and beautiful boy. He treats me like I treat everyone else.

Needless to say, I'm not used to that. I'm starting to feel safe. The people who said "You'll know when it happens to you" weren't just sugar-coating my hopes. They were imparting wisdom about life.

I feel like rolling around in the sunshine. Omaha is glorious today, 60+ degrees and picture-perfect. My life is in the palm of the hand that holds mine in his little Honda.

I feel very much myself today.

2003-03-02T09:13:00.000-08:00

Would you rather be divinely beautiful,
Or dazzlingly clever,
Or angelically good?

Watching Anne of Green Gables this morning, which I've never fully seen, and am enwrapt in her speaking style. While I cannot answer that question, I find it utterly romantic.

I'm in a fog today. I just got done talking to my Grandma and my Mom and Dad, telling them about John. I never really open up about personal things to my family, but this is all so sincere and different and exceptional...

Yesterday was a perfect day. I woke up with terrible I Hate Being a Girl Week cramps, but some day, that will pay off. John had a meeting at work, so he shuttled off early, gym bag in tow.

He brushed his teeth as I called my parents, and laughed when Dad compared dipping fritos into chili with paté... and that paté is "French for 'tasty.'"

When he came back, we went to the Omaha Zoo, which is one of the three nicest zoos in the nation, and it shows. While it's winter, and many of the animals weren't out, the zoo was amazing.

They have all these separate "domes," like the desert dome, the jungle, the aviary, and the aquarium. The aquarium may have been my favorite, because it was shaped like a tunnel of glass. As you walk through, the fish and sharks and water surrounds you. It was absolutely amazing.

I saw an animal, of which there are no others at any other zoos in the nation, called a sea dragon. While sea horses look like coral to protect them, sea dragons look like a cluster of leaves, floating through the water, indistinguishable from their surroundings outside of a small, muted eye.

It's astounding how we all fit together. I know that to grander eyes and more knowledge than I'll ever have, it all makes sense.

I decided by the time I left that I would like a tree kangaroo to call my own, and that it's always beneficial to take a former biology major to the zoo.

From there, I told him I hadn't had thai food since I came to Omaha, though it is one of my favorites... and he said he'd never had it at all. So, I treated to lunch, and we were both pleasantly surprised.

We scurried to three computer stores to compare prices, because he's looking for a replacement, and he told me I was swaying his "impulse buyer" tendencies, and that it was helpful. He wants me to keep coming along so that he'll get the best deal.

We went to his apartment briefly so that I could meet his ferret, Zoe, and I fell in love with her right away. She's a little white ball of sweetness that likes to burrow and play, and I had so much fun with her.

Then, finally, we came back to my apartment and fell asleep right away, having been fighting back respective napping tendencies throughout the day. It was perfect, falling asleep in our clothes, smiling into dreams.

He woke up and kissed my ring finger, saying there was another reason he wanted to wait on buying a computer, and that he knows we'll be together. He is honestly excited, and I am, too. I can't wait for every next day.

I was telling my Mom, openly for the first time in my life, how I know about John. It will be a month on Tuesday, and it's crazy, but I know he's the one.

And what she told me, I never really knew. She and my Dad were engaged on their second date. They just knew, and there was no sense in anything else.

They had two months together, and twelve where they were in two different towns -- Mom finishing up college, and Dad living at home, saving money. And once Mom graduated, they were married. Mom was 21.

Coincidentally, I felt so strange telling her how I felt, but she kept reassuring me. I didn't expect that at all, but she said that I should trust what I'm feeling, because she noticed a difference, and thinks it's the right thing.

What a life, full of beautiful things.

2003-02-23T13:07:00.000-08:00

So the week came and went like a whirlwind.

It started slowly with just-another-Monday filled with writing and worrying about work.

Tuesday was a terribly stressful therapy session, where I actually talked about the things I try so hard to push down... then, as I wanted a little space to unwind that evening, I got a call from Carrie that her Mom had gotten a bit worse, and so I babysat her two boys while she went back to the hospital.

Tristyn is five, and despite a little tattling tendency, he was an angel. But Connor, oh... he's two, and he acts his age. They had never been in the house alone with any non-family member before, and while Tristyn was old enough to grasp that, Connor was sure his Mom had left him.

It was a wild night. They would not calm down, and when Carrie got home, they were still awake, and she looked so worn. Apparently, they still don't know how likely her Mom is to make it, but they found more cancer during her surgery.

My thoughts have been with her since I found out the news, and admittedly, every time the phone rings, I'm hoping it's not bad news.

The week built to a measure of stress from work, as well, where a jerky pace of too much and too little to do made my bones tired. I was looking forward to my relaxing nights off that never seemed to happen.

Thank God I had this weekend. I slept so soundly, and I feel more ready to take on this week. I also got some much-needed TLC to/from John, where things are definitely sweet. He's so sincere, it gives me hope. This is all really good.

My week will be even better if my Brucey wins a Grammy or two tonight. Mac McCaughan and I will be watching with baited breath.

My goals for this week are to write some invigorating reviews, to not let work stress me out too much, to go to the zoo with John on Saturday, and to try and focus on the good things. I could really use some inspiration.

2003-02-17T17:15:00.000-08:00

[ dangit, Blogger, work! ]

I'm normally one of those people who doesn't buy in to Valentine's Day, and I still don't. Buy, that is.

What I had was a wonderful time in the company of a young man who's wrapped me up in splended thoghts and caring deeds, and I need nothing else from this [ or any ] day.

John came over Friday morning before work to warm up my car while I got ready. This was the beginning of a decidedly beautiful holiday.

I went to work to be serenaded by my favorite co-worker, Bill, who brought chocolates for every woman on the floor, and had written special poems for each of us. I blushed from sincerity, and a glad I work in a non-profit organization where people care about each other.

Left work early to pick up take-out, and spent a cozy night in with John, avoiding the impending blizzard of 2003. 12 inches of drifting white later, I realized through and through how much I truly enjoy his company, and how close we're getting as friends. It's an exciting place to be.

Saturday, as if that weren't enough, he dropped a mention that he'd attended culinary school, and after work, he prepared and toted me a wonderful meal. Lasagna and sweetness, what could be better?

I kept having to reaffirm myself -- in that I'd been strung along and left at an emotional distance in recent relationships -- that there are such things as nice guys.

"Is he lying?" "What's he trying to pull?"

The answer, absolutely nothing. He's just a sweet young man who likes to spend time talking with me. Imagine that. I may even start to like this funny red Hallmark holiday, as long as company withstands the brace of empty commercialism.

[ Yes, let's make this sound as Marxist as possible. ]

On a sadder note, my closest Omaha friend, Carrie, found out that her mother has breast cancer. She will be undergoing a double mastectomy tomorrow. Please keep her in your thoughts and prayers.

From what the doctors have found out, the cancer is malignant and has already spread quite a bit. And Carrie's grandmother, up the family tree, died of breast cancer at the same age.

Still, in the face of all this, I will tell you what I told her, and everyone else:

We will all be there for her, and her family, as support. And I know in my heart that love can beat cancer.

I know love can do anything.

2003-02-05T15:20:00.000-08:00

So, the infamous first date got pushed up a day due to a change in work schedules, and John and I went out last night.

For starters, I was nothing if not nervous. I had just gotten out of my therapy appointment, and for the first time in months, I broke down. What a great day to be bawling and have to recoup. I was worried about not even wanting to put on the brave face.

I walk into the bar where he works, and he looks like he could use a nap. He explains to me that he's been sick for a couple of days, but that he's not contageous. Like that matters. I felt bad for dragging him out of bed, but he said he was looking forward to hanging out, or something like that.

Between five-thirty [ when I reapplied my make-up ] and ten-thirty [ when I parked my car back at the homestead ], there was a lot of talking, and honestly, nothing else matters.

Yes, we left the bar and went to eat, though we hardly touched our food from talking so much. Then, he came over to my apartment to watch Simpsons reruns with me, since I tape them when I'm not home.

It was a quiet and comfortable night, but I had such a good time. There was so much to talk about and learn about each other, and he's really up my alley on a lot of things. Very sweet, very giving, very responsible. Doesn't really do the whole "party to excess" thing, and we share a lot of interests, from indie rock and football to tech stuff to Chuck Palahniuk novels and David Fincher films.

Plus, there were a few bonus points thrown in for good measure:

He opened doors, including car doors. Thanked me for opening his car door once I got in.

He paid for dinner, and would not take no for an answer, but slyly said I could pay for "next time" [ extra points for referring to "next time" without flinching, ha ha ].

He let me sit in his car while my car warmed up. I don't think anybody's ever done that for me before.

He didn't think it was lame that I wanted to watch the Simpsons after a night of being at [ basically ] two bars. Held my hand on the couch, which was cold and nervous. Aww.

I kissed him on the cheek, he e-mailed me to apologize if I get sick from it, because he wasn't feeling well [ and yet didn't cancel, which is either a compliment or an act of war, I'm not so sure ].

He let me elbow him incessantly, as is my favorite sign of affection.

He used my official catchphrase, "chump" in a sentence, and even used "chumpy" after I explained the connotation to him.

He had a copy of The Pixies' "Surfer Rosa" in his car, which is my #2 favorite album of all time, so that's rockstar. He didn't even mind that I sang along, because he joined in.

All said, it was a really super time. I got to know someone whose company I thoroughly enjoy, and I must have made a fairly good impression. I'm excited to see him again. Hopefully, it'll be soon.

2003-02-01T03:50:00.000-08:00

So, here we are. You, me, a cup of vienna chocolate cafe, and a blueberry yankee candle. I feel like someone's soccer mom, but it's morning and I don't care.

While I know that at least my Bobby is proud of me, I did something gutsy and it worked out for the best.

That boy I had/have a crush on, who is a bartender down the street, where Carrie and I play trivia... I gave him the mix CD I made for him with a little note inside.

It basically said that while I don't know a lot of people in Omaha, it was nice to know someone who appreciates indie rock and Simpsons references, and that I always look forward to chatting with him when I come in. It also had my number scrawled in the footer.

At first, before he knew there was a note in there, he seemed sort of surprised. Then, he looked at the tracks and said "I love Liz Phair! Oh, Superchunk!" which was just the right reaction because those were probably my two favorite bands on there...

Then, I saw him go back and read the note, and he got all happy and kept offering me free stuff, and seeing if I needed anything. And as I was getting ready to go, he was all nervous and told me to drive safe. That's just lame enough to be cute.

I was pretty glad to have done that, even though Eric's parents (who, his dad got canned this week from Boys Town) were both there two tables behind Carrie and I at his "farewell to BT" drunken coworkers party.

Talk about ironically bad timing. Here I am trying to flirt with a new boy and the old boy's parents are there with the whole marketing department. Boo urns.

Still, as I was telling one of my friends, I was trying not to think about it at work, knowing full well that most guys have a set amount of days they wait before calling a strangers' number, be they of the guy or, of course, girl persuasion.

If he didn't call, I wasn't going to be disappointed, because I don't know the rules.

But he did.

Just as I was about to watch my daily Simpsons tape [ since they stupidly show both episodes while I'm at work! ], the little orange cell phone rings and a nervous young man [ who was desperately trying to play it cool ] is on the other line.

I thought it was going to be an open-and-shut call, because he said it was just to thank me for the CD, that he really liked it. That was enough, I was happy with that and could have gotten on with my day.

It wound up being 40 minutes of non-stop, superfast talking about everything from the Go-Bots' stick arms to the practicality of the English major to the inability to find a band T-shirt in the exact right size.

I still have no clue what he's really like, because it was obvious to me he was trying to make a good impression and just keep up the chatter, but he was friendly, and we're going out on Wednesday for something, I know not what.

I'm a little worried, because it's been a long time I've been really uncomfortable with a guy [ a.k.a. no routine, no knowledge of mundane and comforting qualities ], but I'm fairly proud of myself for taking some steps, and it'll be a good chance to get to know somebody who shares some interests, regardless.

It's a close race between scared and brave, and it looks like scared is winning, but don't tear up your ticket stubs yet.

2003-01-27T17:16:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, it's only in moments of reflection that I see how much I do in a day. It didn't really hit me today until I sat down at my Compaq. As always, indulge me.

Woke up at 4:35 a.m. Yeah. Got started.

Realized that my car insurance guy booked my car for the wrong dealer to have it fixed. Called around six to have it straightened out and drove my car to its hidey hole for the next few days. I will get it back, cleaned and crack free.

[ fighting urge to make crack-free joke. ]

Got a ride to work in the "shuttle car", where the driver was my age and half-heartedly attempting to hit on me as he drove me across town. He was giving off that creepy seventh-grade-dance segregation vibe, so I cheerily said as little as I could.

Started the first day of work taking over both Carrie's and my job until they hire somebody. My boss was sick, we had two two hour meetings today, and I didn't get a lunch break since I had no car. About swallowed my tongue from stress.

Had what I thought was an awesome idea for my next feature article. Sent the synopsis in.

Found out one of my first and sweetest friends here in Omaha is pregnant -- and that she and her husband may soon be headed for divorce. I choose to focus on the blessing, and I hope they do, too.

Got up the nerve to call crushboy at work to see when I could drop his CD off. Nervously explained to him that I couldn't drop "his surprise" off today because I have no car. Got his work schedule, and even more nervously apologized for bugging him at work.

[ this is where, if I were more British, I'd use the word "cobbles" ]

Pretty sure that while he was super polite on the phone, a girl who he only knows by face who says "It's Sarah!" and she has a surprise for him probably seemed pretty weird. Don't care. The hardest part is over, and my hands stopped shaking soon after.

Actually called Eric with the intention of saying something downright nasty to him. In a way, I did. That is to say, in the beat-around-the-bush, be-extra-nice sort of way, but I did tell him that I didn't go to the party on Saturday because I didn't want to see him.

How's that for bravery? I'm two for two.

Called HR and got it straightened out that yes I have medical insurance [ despite my doctor's claims that BT didn't enstate me until December 21, thank you very much ], no I'm not married, and no I don't have three kids. They royally screwed me for taxes this year. I feel better knowing it's not my fault... but not by much.

As the last bit of cake, I got "promoted" at Boys Town today. That's in quotes, not to be pretentious, but because it's actually a lateral move [ i.e. no extra pay ], but it's a better job.

Not only do I get my own office with a window, a bathroom, and a door for privacy and loud music [ as opposed to my greeters desk/time-out corner in main hallway ], I get to do a lot more computer programming, I get to work directly with the Boys Town Parents, and instead of keeping track of a staff of 40 people, I've widdled it down to three.

Three! My work may be more intensive and thought-provoking [ hallelujah! ], but no more hours of payroll. No more expense reports. No more run-ins with the business office about decimal points and copier toner. An office job with a brain!

Ironic detachment is the trendy postmodern coping mechanism. I've got that in spades.

So, it's off to comfy pajamawear I go.

2003-01-25T09:53:00.000-08:00

It's Saturday, which means it's another fury of downloads at the Little Sarah household.

[ that's what my friend Bill from work calls me. he shouts "LITTLE SARAH!" through the halls at Boys Town, and he reminds me of every extremely nice old man I've ever known. ]

Right now, it's Ms. John Soda, Brokeback, Mum, and Ogurusu Norihide, at the recommendation of the Hush Records folks. Actually, I'd heard the Ms. John Soda stuff before and liked it; just getting more.

I'm also knee deep in a band called McLusky, whose album Do Dallas is a fave of my beloved/departed Dismemberment Plan. *sigh* At least I'll always have my memories of their zany live covers.

Otherwise, it's been an emotionally draining week.

Carrie's last day was Friday, so we took her out to a fancy luncheon, and it was fun, but I couldn't help but well up as she walked out the door.

I know we'll still go out all the time [ tonight, even! ], but not being able to look forward to seeing her smiling face leaning in to an Access database every day will be tough.

I got in another car accident, this time due to weather conditions and a sweet, peaceful old priest who understandably couldn't get out of the way. I will be without car for a minimum of three days, and I will make do.

I got invited to a party where Eric was going to be, told he was going to be there, and declined the invitation. If Eric doesn't invite me himself, I assume we're not speaking for a reason. I just want closure, and it's driving me mad that I can't just break it off once and for all.

Still haven't given crushboy his mix CD, because he wasn't working, yet again, on Wednesday. We shall see if he's there tonight, because that's where Carrie and I will probably go this evening.

Found out that due to an HR mishap where they placed me as having three kids [ I claimed zero ], I'm going to have to pay on my taxes. A nice time to find that out, especially when I have no money.

In a way, it seems that God is trying to teach me a lesson of how very little money matters. I know that seems a complete contradiction to the stress I just portrayed, but really, life's about so much more than this, and I shouldn't worry, because I'm taken care of.

I'll keep telling myself this until my heart rate goes down. In my heart I believe it. In my wallet, I fear for the future.

To solve this dilemma with a tried-and-true quick fix, I will focus on my musical distractions and get back to you later.

2003-01-19T13:31:00.000-08:00

Milestone Questions:

Where were you when Kennedy was shot?

The MTV VJ? Oh wait, I wasn't born yet.

How about Phil Hartman?

The Riley High School senior cafeteria, with my then-high school (not-currently-gay) boyfriend, J.P. I still haven't recovered from either, actually.

Where were you when O.J. Simpson was acquitted?

High School journalism class, which turned out to be pretty lame, because hundreds of kids were looting the hallways, but there wasn't even a discussion in a class that should be made for that sort of thing.

On September 11?

I woke up when my Dad called me to turn on the TV... because I was supposed to leave for NYC on September 12, and he wanted me to know that no, I couldn't go. We watched together as the second plane hit, and he flipped out about how it was just like a movie.

And my friend at the radio station played a song from [I am the] World Trade Center without knowing what happened -- she got called for being tacky and insensitive, and that's how she heard the news.

Where where you when you heard that the Dismemberment Plan broke up?

I was in the process of making one of my famously hot-stuff pots of chili when I pulled up the Hey Mercedes weblog and the tragic news from my sweet friend, Bob Nanna.

Yes, that may have seemed like a long set-up, but it's with a greatly heavy heart that I tell those of you who may not know... that the beloved, innovative, and insanely fun band broke up today, January 19, 2003.

They are one of my two favorite bands of all time, the most favorite being Superchunk. Yes, I know, you skeptics may be mad at me for putting the Pixies below those two, but it's my list, and the heart wants what it wants. So nyah.

That's just awful! With the D-Plan gone, where can I look for good music in that vein? Sure, there are plenty of bands who would fit on a mix CD with them, but nobody took it to their heights.

Travis & Co., you will be sorely missed. And even more sorely when I take the mic and do D-Plan cover songs in the vein of Low and Rick Astley. If that's what it takes to get you back together, God help me, I will.

2003-01-18T08:24:00.000-08:00

All hail the music of 2003. This is already shaping up to be a great year.

Thus far, I have the new: Cat Power, Cursive, Fizzle Like a Flood, Folk Implosion, Joan of Arc, Kiss Me Deadly, Mines, Minus 5/Wilco split, Nada Surf, OnAlaska, Postal Service, Rainer Maria, Red Thread, Sea & Cake, Matthew Shipp, and Throwing Muses advance CDs.

Of this, I am most excited about the Throwing Muses release, because they're one of my 5 most favorite bands ever, and they broke up years ago. They were the fairy godmistresses of indie rock in the 80s, where Kristin Hersh and her step-sister, Tanya Donelly, created bizarre art pop.

I love it. I love it the same way I love David Lynch movies, subtitles, Salvador Dali, and the shivers. I'm in adoring, frightened awe.

Kristin and Tanya haven't recorded an album together since 1991, and this is their family reunion of sorts. It's an amazing effort, really raw and rockin'.

Not that you were there, but that night that my Packers won the Super Bowl, and I broke down in tears from pride and happiness; I'm not too far from that now. This is what good fortune will do when you've waited so long.

Speaking of which, I finished my six-month review at Boys Town this week, and got an unexpectedly high score. Outside of being marked down as "not tactful" [ what?! shut up, loser! ], I did very well.

I've also come to the point in my therapy sessions that I don't spend them crying, but instead reflecting on the stuff I'm content about, and actually being honest-emotioned instead of over-emotional. That's a big improvement in the-way-I-am on the whole, and I'm pretty proud of myself.

I also made the boy I have a crush on a mix CD, and stuck my phone number inside. That's either confidently flirty, or absolutely stupid. He works up the street, and I went in there on Thursday to drop it off, but he wasn't working that day.

I'll probably never give it to him, but at least making it was cathartic, and the very idea of starting something new appeals to me on lots of levels.

It's humbling -- inspiring -- when possibility shows me how much bigger it is than my plans.

2003-01-12T14:46:00.000-08:00

Wow. It has been a long time.

The SportsCenter recap:

1. Went home for Christmas. It was awesome seeing Mom and Dad again. I love being with them, we're a very close family, and we were so happy to be back together again.

2. Came back from Christmas and saw Cursive that night with Eric. Backslid into too much comfort [ ahem ], even though he's still giving me the yo-yo treatment. I don't know if we're together or not, but right now, but I'm trying to make it less of a concern. At least Cursive was good -- though the new album (which I have!) isn't Domestica by a longshot.

3. Got hit on by a mutual friend of Eric's and mine who everyone told me was gay. Debating whether I should even say anything to Eric. Completely freaked out by the whole thing, but still want to be his friend.

4. Dogsat for my aunt Mary, whose two Wheaton Terriers are really jumpy, smelly, and annoying. Got called on the day I was supposed to be there, and told that one of them had diarrhea. Spent the past five days running him outside incessantly and smelling of 409 residue. Yuck.

5. Did not have heat in my apartment for three days. It is now fixed, and I'm purposely keeping it high incase it decides to be finicky again [ pant, pant, wheez ]

6. My closest Omaha friend, Carrie, got in a car accident. She's hurt and has to get her back worked on. Her son was also in the car, and she's taking him in to see if he's okay. She's also not going to be working with me anymore. On the upside, this means she got a new, higher-paying job, and will be able to afford the new car she just bought. It also means that whenever we go out, it will be for the sole purpose of fun, and that sounds good. Love her.

7. Became addicted to the USA TV series "The Dead Zone." My crush on Anthony Michael Hall is long gone now that he took up Christopher Walken's creepy former role, but the show is solid.

8. Got to see my Bobby on layover from Indiana to Omaha, because he came all the way out to Midway to hug me. I love that boy. Love him, love him, love him. He needs to move to Omaha, so that he can be my wacky neighbor and get hugs every day. Yesterday, it was Craig T. Nelson jokes for us. How can I not adore such a wonderful Bobby?

9. Nobody wants to play Simpsons Monopoly with me, because they know I will pillage their respective homelands. I will not, ne, can not, be beaten.

10. Current people/things I am in love with: Hal Sparks [ grrowwl ], Blonde Redhead, my Irish Cream Yankee Candle, Late Night with Conan O'Brien, and my doctor here in Omaha [ it's not like that, he just makes me less scared to go in -- He's very chumly ].

No more staring at my computer today. Between it, my computer at work, the TV, and the radio, it feels like I move from one box to another.

One of my New Year's resolutions is to be less boxy and more foxy. In the interest of that, salut.

2002-12-22T14:17:00.000-08:00

I'm so exhausted, and this tea, for being a Zinger, isn't doing any justice.

All told, I spent this weekend sleeping. Whatever flu I had on Monday stopped making me nauseous long ago, but has been depleting my energy supply all week. I've spent over twelve hours each night sleeping, and have been taking naps at strange hours, too.

Emotionally and physically, I guess I just need a rest.

My Packers weren't on TV, but I listened via Internet radio. God bless high-speed resolution. I love listening to my favorite Wisconsin DJs bantering, while at the same time knowing that my Dad is doing the same thing.

The NFL brings families together. Mine, anyway.

I got up for early Mass today, trying to beat the packed seating of later holiday mornings. It was nice, and featured a young Scottish priest I hadn't met before. I like my church here in Omaha quite a bit, because it's small enough to be cozy and peaceful.

There's a tapestry at its front of Jesus surrounded by angels, and I love to look at the detail. There's so much color in the rays of light and the angels wings. It shares a lot of joy with me. I instantly feel better just walking through the shiny glass doors.

Admittedly, I've felt a lack of faith lately, mostly due to loneliness. My therapist and I have been talking about it some, in that she asked me how I envision God lately.

I told her I feel, often, that I am talking to myself. That no one is listening. She made a good point that I didn't see -- that my current image of God reflects the same loneliness I've been feeling in life. That when God isn't a refuge for my own loneliness, it creates both helplessness and despair.

To put it simply, if God's not there, no one is, and it depresses me.

So, I called my most spiritual and level-headed friend, Monica, and had a long talk with her. I told her that with all of the things that have seemingly been going wrong -- from the loneliness of being left without Eric (who, for all intents and purposes, is my best friend in Omaha) to the thanklessness and exhaustion of a fairly unfulfilling job -- I question that I've made the wrong decision.

I told her, in confidence, that I worry I've gotten so backwards that I've disregarded God's plan for me. And she said something that gave me a lot of heart; namely that you can never get so far that God won't put His plan right in your face.

I may be in Omaha, full of questions, but I have a role here. I just have to quit trying to control things and give some space for what needs to occur.

Having that conversation with her, I've felt a second wind of a lot more peace with my decision. I'm not only looking forward to going home, but I've finally gotten enough confidence that I look forward to coming back. That's a big deal.

There's something for me everywhere. I just have to be willing to listen closely for it.

2002-12-18T18:55:00.000-08:00

Stop the drama. I want to off of the ride.

Dear God. I go to one of two Christmas parties at work today, and come back to see that there's a message on my cell phone from Eric.

"I'm just calling to see how you're doing, and ask you to do a favor for me. PLEASE don't press charges against me. I did a federal offense, and if you go home over lunch, please don't be angry. I won't have my phone for the next two hours or so, so I guess I'll just have to talk to you later."

So, curious and a bit scared, I give him a call, hoping that maybe he does have his phone on him.

I know it couldn't be "breaking an entering," because he has my spare key for when I lock myself out, and while he hasn't given it back, it wouldn't be a big deal if he got in with it.

I'm not the type to get angry as long as he doesn't break anything or eat all my food.

Talking with him (he's at a movie), he says, "No, I'm not angry at you, and no, I didn't do anything you're going to be mad about, I just left you a nice surprise."

Knowing exactly what he did -- he opened my mail (hence the federal offense), which was my Christmas tree, and went out to buy decorations to fix it up, I said, "Well, I didn't think I was supposed to like you anymore,"

He comes back with "I just did it to be nice," and I'm all confused.

Why would he get up after two hours of sleep to come over to my house to decorate my Christmas tree if we're supposedly not allowed to talk to each other anymore because "it would be too hard to get over each other before he left"?

I'm getting all kinds of mixed signals, and I don't know what this means. It makes no sense to me.

This doesn't seem like an act of friendship, I would think that talking to me would be the first step to keeping ourselves friends -- not coming over to do something sweet like that.

He left a gift, and my spare key on the counter, like I'd asked, but not really wanted.

He called me at 5 saying he couldn't sleep (I thought he wasn't going to call me anymore...), and I invited him over in hopes that I could at least get some of the confusion out.

He was supposed to be here half an hour ago, but no sign of him.

I cancelled plans to stay in and at least thank him for a very lovely, very Guy-Decorated tree.

He deserves something for trying to make Omaha a little more homey while I'm here. But if he doesn't come by, I'm just left with a lot of confusion and something that reminds me how lonely it is in this apartment without him.

I just don't get it. Maybe I shouldn't try.

2002-12-16T04:33:00.000-08:00

Hey Mercedes was great, we had a really fun time at the show, and getting to say "hi" to everyone is always special. I'm lucky to have some very talented friends.

...But then, afterwards, Eric and I went to Brothers, and I was asking if (when he graduates in May) I could go to the ceremonies. And he said he wasn't going to be there.

Eric's moving away.

At first, I figured that would be the end of what we talked about that night; that he'd just take me home to cry a little, but that we'd talk again about it later. Nope.

We drove home pretty soon after, and he cried with me until 4:30 in the morning as he told me goodbye.

I'm not allowed to talk to him, even, because he says it would be too hard. He wants to know, by the time he leaves, that we've both gotten over it (at least a little).

I spent all yesterday with the flu, on top of it all, just running to and from my bathroom. I would sleep for an hour, wake up crying, and have to throw up. Not a pretty sight.

I called Mom & Dad, Bob, Carrie, and Peanut, who all expressed sympathy but gave me the "it will take time" rap that I already have in the back of my head.

It's been years since I've been heartbroken. I didn't date for so long after the rape that I actually forgot how much it hurts when you love someone you can't be with. I've come to find out it's even worse when they also want to be with you, but can't.

We're both really hurt. We were both really happy. I guess I'm the only one who didn't see this coming.

2002-12-14T07:00:00.000-08:00

I have a nice story to tell:

I called Eric Friday morning after he got off of work [ 7:30 AM ] to see if he wanted to borrow my Hey Mercedes CD before the show, so that he could know some of the songs.

He said he'd like to, so he made his way over. But he was taking too long, and I started to wonder what was up.

So, knowing that if I didn't warm up my frosty car, I would be late, I took my cowboy-boot-wearing self out yonder, and who was out there but Eric, scraping my windows for me.

I told him, "Thanks, that's really nice!" and he insisted that it wasn't him, it was one of my very nice neighbors who did it -- while, of course, he's getting the last spot off of the front.

He didn't have a coat on, so I urged him inside and gave him some Lemonheads. What a sweet boy.

It was a perfect start to the day, which wound up being interminably lazy. Useless at work, useless at home. I finally got around to watching Monster's Ball, but that was about it.

Today is the concert, and I'll be glad to see those guys again.

It's Eric's first indie rock show, and he actually called me this morning to ask if "it was okay to wear jeans, or would that look stupid...?"

That's hilarious on so many levels.

I'm interviewing We Ragazzi today for Lost.at.Sea, though I should be spending most of the day dusting, vacuuming, et cetera.

The place has got to look like it's just been cleaned. That's probably some sort of neurosis talking. Don't mind me as I turn into my Mom.

2002-12-10T18:17:00.000-08:00

Let's divide this up...

The Good:
My dear, sweet, loveable friend Peanut, whose brilliance can never be denied, got me the new Joan of Arc CD.

Furthermore, I finished my CMP today, which is a comprehensive file of everything I've done at Girls and Boys Town since getting hired.

And let me just say, if I ever question the fact that I do lots of valuable work, I have a huge binder to back up a sense of self-satisfaction. Thank God for the Protestant work ethic... and I'm Catholic, so I guess I'm conflictedly blessed.

Six-month evaluation [ though, strangely, I've only completed five months ] is on Thursday. Wish me luck, but I'm feeling pretty good about it.

I also got the title on my car moved from Dad to me, and got the insurance switched and paid for. Next week, I have a day off of work to get plates, emissions testing, and my new license.

I'm pretty proud of my responsible side right now. I feel like a big, happy, musically-excited grown-up.

The Bad:
I got a letter from my Mom. Grandma broke her ankle, and there's all these complications:

Sarah -- Just got home from visiting grandma Patty. What a hoot. She was in fine spirits. Her leg is as big around as your waist.

She had two plates and two pins put in. The doctor ordered assisted living for 6-8 weeks. She is not challenging it like we thought she would.

We shopped for clothes with zippered legs so she can get them on. We also had to buy all new underwear and socks.

Sleep wear and a robe were purchased, but we are still looking for a slipper. She can only use one leg. I think she was happy for all the attention.

Dad and I will have to go back on Saturday to clean out her fridge and cubbords for anything that will spoil.

We also have to take down her Christmas tree. Then we will go to see her new place. She will even have a private room.

I will send you the address when I get it in case you want to send a silly card. Thats all for now. -- Mom

On a related note, I really don't think it's a good idea for Grandma to be living on her own anymore.

The Indifferent:
Dr. Deb told me today that she wants me to start taking anti-depressants, and that she wants me to schedule an appointment with my general practicioner to get the ball rolling.

The reason this is neither goor nor bad is that I'm not sure.

She describes my depression like "slogging through jell-o." I personally hate that analogy.

I prefer equating it to lifting a heavy weight. Either way, everything is just that much harder.

If pills make simple tasks and honest emotions easy again, then I'm pro-Prozac. If it's just an expensive reason for me to wonder if it's working, we'll have to talk it over. Either way, she's there to see me through it.

...There are these strange moments where, for a brief moment, I feel a lack of distance from my own life. In those short seconds, it hits me that I'm actually living all of this. And then I feel strangely proud of myself for doing so well.

Through it all, I think I turned out okay.

2002-12-06T18:41:00.000-08:00

3:47 this morning, I couldn't sleep and didn't know why [ hindsight: PMS ].

I couldn't get comfortable all night despite a real need for rest, so thinking I might be able to "wake myself back to sleep", I got up and checked the IM.

Eric was online, wondering why I was up, and we wound up having a really nice talk. I'm funny when I'm sleepy, so he enjoyed himself, and he's sweet when I'm tired, so I did too. I told him I loved him, went back to bed, and only truly got another 40 minutes before I had to roll.

Work provided caffeine in Vanilla Coke, Coke, and coffee forms, so it wasn't much of a problem. I did feel a bit antsy, but I called my friend Jeff over from across the hall and we played briefly with the Speed Racer toy that sits on my desk.

While I'm talking to Carrie about the unfurling drama that is her love life when I see a message on my phone.

It didn't ring, who did I miss?

Caller ID shows me that Eric was calling me at work. Must be something up, so I call him right back.

Well, in a way, yes, he just wanted to treat me to lunch because it's been a long time since we got to hang out. He told me I got to pick, but when I said I wanted Blimpie, he said he wanted Long John Silvers, so since he's sick, we went there.

He says it's comfort food when he's seriously injured. I told him he could be serious right at that moment, and we'd better get something batter dipped. STAT.

He was such a brat at lunch -- not in a bad way, mind you, he was just at the top of his game of wits. Full of little barbed comments and big dopey laughs. I missed him a lot more than I remembered. It was really good to be together.

The rest of the work day drudged on after he dropped me off, where most of the time I was concerned about Carrie in her current predicament, since she's a wonderful friend, and I hate seeing her heartbroken.

She doesn't like being alone, and she meets a nice guy who really cares, but he can't date her because he's co-workers with her ex. He put the final foot down today, and she kept blaming herself for getting caught up in something where there were mixed signals.

Honestly, I thought he'd be able to draw the line between personal and professional life at work and they could take it as it came. I'm sure that's what she was hoping for. It's really not fair that anyone whose goal is love should have it thrown back at them.

She'd never do anything to hurt anyone. It was a crime of nature to see her cry this morning. I hope she knows that he's the one being stupid here, because she's an amazing person, and he was lucky to win her attention.

I wish life were more like a game, sometimes, where you could pass if you didn't know the answers.

I wish I could carry my friends on my back and take care of the heavy burdens. I guess the best I can do is remain a traveling companion.

2002-12-02T18:14:00.000-08:00

Life is beautiful, despite any proof otherwise.

I just got done with my meeting with the lady from Big Brothers/Big Sisters, and while she seemed a bit fidgety, I think it went well.

I go through "training" tomorrow night, and after they run a thorough background check, I should be in the clear.

I can't wait to meet my new little friend! Having a relationship with someone who asks for nothing but your time, that's just amazing. I'm really excited, and I hope I'll be a good "big sister."

Speaking of taking the time for kids, April [ who I mentor ] was really responsive today. She ran across the word "corset" in her book, and I got to use the colorful explanation of "it makes it all tighter, and the flab goes everywhere else!"

Hearing a thirteen year old giggle at the word "flab" is just priceless. I don't think she'll ever forget what a corset is.

Some parts of today weren't as nice. I got yelled at by one of the three most senior executives at Boys Town because my pants fell down to my hips and she could see the back of my underwear.

Actually, she sent someone else to tell me that she could see my underwear. I'm sure my boss will hear about it when he returns from vacation tomorrow.

The fact that I do endless numbers of thankless jobs, and get yelled at because someone saw my panty line just frustrates me. It's not like I was walking around like that to offend people, or that I was making some sort of "cool kid" fashion statement. I'm just skinny. Heck.

Otherwise, I finally put a bit of my foot down with Eric, which turned out really well. Yes, he blew up at me at first. And yes, he sounded furious when I called him soon after. But, he understands where I'm coming from, and he's really short on any sort of patience now that he lives at home.

As long as we understand each other's point of view, it's much easier to be patient. And I think that now that he knows I'm to my "fed-up" point, he will try harder to make things a little easier, when he can.

Besides, he's really excited about going to his first indie rock show in a couple of weeks, and I think he just wants to get through all the frustrating stuff to find something good.

I definitely understand that sentiment.

In other happy-related news, I bought my tickets to Indianapolis to visit Mom and Dad over Christmas. For a while there, it didn't look like I'd be able to go home. Dad and I are both in new jobs, with very limited vacation time, but we made it work.

Flying to Indiana on Christmas Eve, returning the Sunday after. It's going to be so nice to spend time with them. I miss them so much, every day, and they're really glad I'm coming home.

I'll just keep counting the days 'til Santa makes some magic.

2002-12-01T16:45:00.000-08:00

Mary Tyler Moore's got nothing on me.

I cooked a roast today. And yes, I am truly proud of myself. It was great, honest-to-goodness, but I hope that while everyone else is getting sick of turkey, I will maintain my healthy respect for beef.

Oh, leftovers, when did you become my enemy, and not just a really good value?

Other good things include a Packer victory against the Bears, which would have been a lot sweeter if my dumb Bear-fan boyfriend treated me halfways decently.

Not only did he not come over, he didn't call, and still hasn't. I don't even hear his voice for five minutes a week, because he doesn't call.

It wouldn't be a big deal not seeing him if he could justify finding some way to take a stinking five minutes out of the 10,080 minutes available to ask me how my week is going.

I don't even get that. It's starting to make me angry.

Yes, I'm patient. And yes, I love Eric, and I'd do anything to try and stick out the tough times, because I think it's worth it. But it's hard to justify patience when I get nothing in return.

If someone really cares, wouldn't they find a way to make you some sort of priority? If not even first, or fifth, or fifteenth, can't they find those five short minutes?

I feel non-existant. Sometimes, when I realize I'm awake, and breathing, and living some semblance of a life, it honestly surprises me.

I'm glad I have Carrie and Monica and my friends back in Chicago. And I'm glad I've recently met nice people like JP and Al, and have been able to feel like myself.

It serves as assurance that I'm still here.

2002-11-29T16:20:00.000-08:00

Hope y'all had a happy Thanksgiving!

I spent Grateful Day with a friend of mine named Monica who went way out of her way to feed a very small group, but it was very nice.

It was awkward at first, because her husband [ James ] invited his Air Force buddies [ Al & Justin ] who had nowhere to go while stationed in Omaha.

They all knew each other, so I struggled a bit to find my niche, but ended up making really great friends with Al, and chit-chatting with him all day.

I was waiting to wash my hands while he was at the sink, made a comment about my being homesick, and he confided the same. The rest of the day, we spent making each other laugh, talking about comic books, football, and He-Man, and taking up a bunch of pie.

Like I said, very nice. Once I started to feel comfortable, I fought disbelief at how often I'd stayed home lately. I started to feel more like myself, and got a second wind for "going out."

That said, I'm trying to figure out what to do tonight. But with my favorite shirt on, and my boyfriend decidedly not saying hi to me on AIM, I'm feeling defiantly social.

Maybe I just have to get angry about this lonely apartment; get so fed up with it that I lunge for the door. Get tired of all this comfort.

The mall is out of the question, due to my Adbusters spirit, so it may be out to Boys Town for a walk to gather my thoughts, and then a jaunt to the crowd-scene.

I guess I'd better tie my shoes...

2002-11-27T18:29:00.000-08:00

Weird thing: I just spent I-don't-know-how-long chatting with my ex online, though neither of us knew it at the time.

He paged me on soulseek, because I have the new Cat Power record, but I had taken it off of my computer. He asked me to put it back up, and we talked for a bit.

Then, browsing his files, I saw new demos for his [ one-man ] band, and after examining his screen name, it hit me who he was.

Now, of course I have a crush on him. The same kind of crush I have on all of my exes, the kind that go nowhere and are mostly an "I wish you health and happiness" thing, but I still get a strange sense of satisfaction from knowing he has no idea who I am, I'm just the nice person who gave him songs he wanted.

Omaha isn't far enough from my ex-boyfriends, I now realize. I can't escape when I date indie rock computer geeks. Jesus.

Otherwise, I'm trying to enjoy the kickoff of my four day weekend. I may be going to Monica's for Thanksgiving, because she's having people over, but I'd almost rather putter around the apartment and wear my PJs all day. Just knowing I have that option is great.

I went out to Gordman's with Carrie after work, because she's going to the Def Leppard concert [ no kidding, and the funnier thing is, she wants me to go with her ] and has nothing to wear.

I wound up finding a pair of duck slippers -- fuzzy and soft, with platform-ish heels. They're the most perfect pair of "shoes" I own. They're amazing.

I'm already writing a note to my firstborn, who will be in charge of my estate when I pass on, that I'd like to be buried in them.

[ No, not really. Don't gimme that face. ]

2002-11-26T17:47:00.000-08:00

If no one has shouted this at the top of their lungs in front of you lately, please feel free to picture me doing so:

"I loooove Gram Parsons!"

Man, they don't make country music like this anymore. Gram and Hank, they're my boys. I hope, in their respective Bluegrass Heavens, they can rest well knowing they've made an indie bumpkin girl very happy.

Yeah, so silliness aside, my fate looks a little happier today. No, I'm not going home for Thanksgiving, but it looks like I may be able to swing Christmas after all, and that has me really excited. Dad will have to use all his vacation time, but it's worth it.

I won a really classy poster on eBay and got a frame for it today. It's going to look awesome in my bedroom.

I found someone online who has all of Liz Phair's rare Girlysound demos, and they're on their way to my desktop.

And we got the first substantial snow of the year, which is achingly pretty outside my window, as long as I stay indoors and away from my coated tires.

As you can tell, Thanksgiving has a funny effect on me. I'm generally a pretty grateful person, which makes this little funk I'm in [ no, not James Brown ] uncharacteristic and fairly scary. But the quick resiliency that comes with youth and optimism always bouy me to safety.

I have faith that I'll bounce back in no time.

2002-11-24T16:41:00.000-08:00

What a sad weekend. I didn't do anything [ not even get my oil changed ], it's hitting me hard that I'm not going home for Thanksgiving or Christmas, I didn't get to see any of my friends, and my Packers lost.

I even called Bobby, Brian, and Dad for good luck, so I guess I just can't take the loss on myself. Maybe it's their own fault they lost this time.

All that's keeping me afloat right now is this lovely Spinanes album, and the hope that this overwhelmingly lonely feeling will fade.

I wish I had someone to call, to just come over for no reason, so that I'm not alone in this apartment.

If only the weather would warm up enough to warrant a big thunderstorm, so that I could open my blinds, curl up in my pajamas, and be distracted by something that makes me happy.

I miss having people around. I miss my Dad faltering, trying to pretend like he wasn't just asleep on the couch. I miss my Mom getting frustrated with our antics at the grocery store. I miss my dog trying to grab scraps from under my feet.

I'm not really looking forward to the long weekend, everything just seems that much harder.

2002-11-23T12:12:00.000-08:00

Well, thanks to The Onion, I stumbled upon Wil Wheaton's weblog.

Not only am I enthralled to learn more than anyone should know about this former child-actor [ see: Stand By Me, Star Trek: The Next Generation, probably other things ], it is time for an embarrassing admission, since that's exactly what a web journal is for, right?

Pre-teen me had a huge crush on this guy. I know someone's laughing as they read that. Go ahead, read it again. I thought he was a cutie.

...And then I met someone in high school who looked uncannily like him, only much taller and with a bad case of braying-donkey-voice, and for some reason, the crush faded. Ahh, memories.

Another place I've been spending way too much time is LaunchCast, where you can program your own Internet radio station.

No, it's not as cool as Live 365 in some respects, but it's also not firewalled at work.

If you want to hear what I've cooked up so far, go here.

And if you like Journey and Rod Stewart, take it upon yourself to teach my Mom how to use it, because right now, it's Throwing Muses and I'm happy.

Not much going on today. I woke up at 5:00 to find Eric on the IM, shuffling on the way back from the bathroom. He'd left the program on, and when he saw me, he wanted to say "Hi."

I could tell he was groggy, because he was a bit rattled, but it was sweet that he took a little time before dozing back off.

I'm in a watching-movies kind of mood today, though I don't feel like putting it in if it's just me. If I can get him to come by, it may be a perfect time for him to see Run Lola Run.

I'll convince him it's an action movie, and skip any mention of subtitles. It might work, we'll see.

I feel like a spy.

2002-11-22T04:49:00.000-08:00

Bring on the hot coffee, I do not want to go to work today.

Last night, Carrie and I went out to Old Chicago to play trivia and have some food, like we do most Thursdays.

Burnt out and cabin feverish, it's a fun time each week.

Eric couldn't make it, and Carrie was trying to chitter with a nice man she's come to admire lately, so between question breaks, I was trying to be social. Their mutual friend [ I forget his name ] was asking me if I was from Omaha, and all of that rollaround, so out came the usual...

"No, I'm from Indiana, went to Chicago for school, graduated in May, came here to work at Boys Town."

I can say it so fast that it starts sounding like the whirl of airplane propellers. They aren't real words anymore, they come out so often.

Anyway, so the bartender was eavesdropping, and started making cracks about how Omaha was a bustling thoroughfare, just like Chicago, and he "understood the draw." So, I said "I heard they had a good music scene, but I have yet to see it."

Then, he did a magic trick. He mentioned Saddle Creek, and instantly became my favorite person at the bar.

We chatted a bit about how the Faint was better when they played their own instruments, and how the popularity of our favorite Omaha bands keeps them effectively out of Omaha most of the year, but he had to work, so it was a sporadic event.

He came back a bit later and asked if I liked the Simpsons. My eyes got big, we shared a joke about Mark Maguire socking dingers as a spy/diversion for professional baseball, and as soon as he left, Carrie started ribbing me about whatever was going on.

My dinner tab ended up being on the house. I tried not to be embarrassed when I asked his name. I know he won't remember me the next time I come in, but for the moment I was there, he sang the chorus of my favorite Desaparecidos song, and I had someone to talk to.

It just reminded me how much I miss having someone to be music-nerdy with. I'm hoping he didn't quiz Carrie about the boyfriend situation, because some guys just won't talk to girls who are "spoken for," and I have the hopes of gaining a new friend to go to shows with.

I suddenly feel like the deranged person in the oddball comedy who holds everyone by the wrists and shouts, "BE MY FRIEND!!"

My mood is in the skies. For a brief moment, my obscure references were matched and accounted for. JP had better work next Thursday.

2002-11-20T15:33:00.000-08:00

Man-o-manatee. I don't know how I feel today.

To catch you up on the days I couldn't bring myself to sit at the screen... I started mentoring April on Monday. She's cool, really individual. Not enthusiastic about reading, but I can snag her with something good, I think.

I got ready for my interview with Big Brothers Big Sisters by cleaning everything up and getting really excited, but found out after digging through the paperwork that it's in December. Wrong day. Time to laugh it off.

I had my first evaluation with my "official" boss, and found out I'm not doing too well. Not because my co-workers or direct supervisors are unhappy, but that decimal points are in the wrong places, etc. Mostly just picky stuff that has nothing to do with what I really do all day, yet matters because she's in charge of my eval.

I don't look forward to the rest of this. Today, though, I was invited to take role play training for those folks who actually work directly with the Boys Town kids, and it was really interesting.

It reminded me how many doors could be opened for me once my preliminary year of office work is up.

On one hand, my "boss" sent me a mean e-mail because the role play meeting conflicted with a meeting my department was supposed to have with her. While I told her in advance, and I sent someone to take notes for me, she didn't realize the two coincided and chewed me out for it. This kind of treatment just saps every ounce of my productive energy.

On the other hand, I told the role play director that I found the subject matter really interesting, and he said he'd like to squirrel me away "under the radar" to see that I get trained when I'm allowed to transfer. He wants to keep a job open for me, he thinks I'm a bright kid that could be used better elsewhere.

I wholeheartedly agree.

Among other happy things, I got to give Eric his present yesterday, when he came over for the first time in a while. We had a nice talk about some of the tough things he's dealing with, and he feels better knowing we can get through things together.

I'm pretty glad about that, too, actually. And now, he has a shirt to wear when he goes to the Hey Mercedes show with me. Since it had a deer on it [ for our shared hillbilly roots ], it was just perfect. He was really happy.

I'm trying not to let my current work situation bog my mentality down, but it's difficult. These good things have been contributing to a better mood of late, but I fear the devistation of constant reprimand from the non-involved-yet-overly-critical evaluation system.

If I keep the things that truly matter in mind, Omaha's shaping up like a pretty great place to be.

2002-11-17T10:06:00.000-08:00

A bad day for my Packers, though I made a comment to Eric that I had a bad feeling about it, so at least I can take comfort in my psychic abilities.

Next week, they're going to win. Bet on it.

I've spent most of today writing reviews -- which brings me up to six that have not yet been published. Only a couple more to go until my next package. I think I'm part robot, though I'm not sure which part.

Incase you're wondering, the new We Ragazzi has shot straight to my top 10 of 2002. It's like an aural aphrodesiac. I'd better hit the showers...

On an entirely different note, I just learned the conclusion of this murder case, where the two pre-teens allegedly killed their father.

Father Peter wants these kids sent to Girls & Boys Town instead of jail, though the self-confessed guilty verdict would have to be overturned.

I think the point he makes about jail sentences being up to "2,920 real days of very young lives in prison" is a poignant one, but that's the part of me that wants to believe in rehabilitation. Could young children be rehabilitated in jail if they spend, effectively, their whole lives there?

I honestly think being among a system of teachers, authority figures, and people their own age would help them a lot more that isolation and retribution.

The geography from Florida to Nebraska may be a factor, but these are lives that could get better with help, and it hurts when justice is more about the convenience of giving up than it is improvement of character.

Each of the kids at Boys Town have been hurt, have done hurtful things, and have been given up on at some point, but not entirely. That's part of why this is so upsetting, because these are kids who now have very little chance for correction, even when it has been offered to them.

Sorry for the rant, but when the world isn't all peaches and candy, it makes me feel pretty disillusioned. My rose-colored glasses are a little smudgey today.

2002-11-16T07:54:00.000-08:00

Let's go Huskers, let's go! [clap clap]

I'm turning into a Nebraskan. I'm actually psyched about the game today. I'm going over to my friend Foxy's house to watch it on his big screen, and I'm looking forward to getting out of this apartment and back into non-work civilization.

Though I have lots of guy friends scattered throughout Illinois, Foxy's basically the only consistent guy friend I have here in Omaha [well, Eric...]. It's strange, I usually relate so much better to guys, but I guess it's just hard to open up to people who hang out in little groups like these kids do.

The Saddle Creek crowd has tried to embrace me -- I even had a conversation with Tim Kasher about the quality of recent Promise Ring albums -- but I still feel like I have a long way to go before I'm part of "the crowd."

I think I'm so used to having close friends to go to shows with. And while I see the same people every time I go, it's all just a rush of acquaintences, and it's not like I talk to these people regularly outside of that particular scene.

Where are the long, nerdy conversations?

I guess I just have to give this all more time, but patience is even more of a struggle when you've had coffee.

I'm pretty sure I couldn't have lived in an age without the microwave.

2002-11-14T18:07:00.000-08:00

There is a Ryan Adams song called "Amy" (which is fitting, because I met the Amy, and she's a heartbreaker, if you'll excuse the pun), with a lyric that hits me today:

Seems that way sometimes. When things are good, I'm in love, and the world is happy. When things are sad, I keep hoping for spring, and it is my hope that bothers me so much.

Today is a "spring" kind of day, however, mostly due to a rough patch being over between Eric & I, and my being able to go out to dinner with my friend Carrie this evening.

They're probably my two favorite people here in Omaha. I doubt I could think of people I enjoy more here.

Carrie's a young Mom of two adorable kids, and she'd do anything for anyone. She's so, so sweet. When I passed out at work today**, she said she'd like to have dinner with me to make sure I was okay. Keep an eye on me and such. She's exactly the kind of friend I love having, because it's really two ways.

And Eric? Well, I sent him an e-card today with a bear happily passing gas... in order to make him smile, because he's had a rough week... and he's probably the only guy on earth who would find that romantic. I'm glad he did, because it was the best I could do to get him giggly.

He ticked me off last night, and I called him on it this morning, saying, "Look, I know you're hurt about some outside things right now, but please don't take it out on me. I'm here for you if you need me, but please take care of yourself." He agreed, apologized, and is now on his way to have ice cream and watch cartoons with me.

Any relationship where you can both successfully tell someone the negative things that might be on your mind, and make amends, and end up just as good as you were to begin with is worth keeping. I'm lucky we're friends, first and foremost.

As for the ** about passing out: Took my new allergy medicine today with very scary results. Heartbeat increased rapidly, and I fought passing out throughout the day. Ended up falling over once at work, and once at home. Now that I've eaten, I'm okay, but they're taking me off of it.

Thankfully, I drove home safely, and the 12 hour dosage has completely elapsed. The ice cream and cartoons couldn't have come at a better time.

It's finally starting to hit me that even my closest friends, at one point, I barely knew. That these new folks might be people I still admire ten years from now, and that makes me happy.

Whether I thoroughly believe it or not, I really did it. I made up my mind, I got a job, I moved, and now I'm here.

This just might be a bigger deal than I've been letting myself think.

2002-11-13T03:46:00.000-08:00

(5:38 a.m.)

So, I slept through yesterday's update (and pretty much everything else)... oops!

I took a nap at 5:30 or so, thinking I'd be refreshed if anyone wanted to do anything, and just woke up about 45 minutes ago. Jeebus. There's a good excuse, though:

I went to the allergist for the first time yesterday, not knowing what to expect.

First, it was 40 pin pricks on the back in some highly sensitive [ aka ticklish ] places. That was "inconclusive." So, then it was 21 injections in the arm to double check. What'd we find out?

I'm allergic to indoor mold. Oh boy. I'm now a Zyrtec warrior [ because it sounds like an alien planet we'd be up against ], and I can blame my woes on the gross ducts at work and the smelly heater in my apartment.

The sleep was due to the fact you're only supposed to take one every 12 hours, and I took two thinking the sample package was one dose.

Does driving my car home count as operating heavy machinery?

I still have numbers on my back that I couldn't reach with the soap. If anybody asks, they're just sloppy tattoos, and I'm way tough.

More later when the fog has lifted.

(4:45 p.m.)

Well, work has wound down enough that I can download my brain a bit. Today has been good.

I called the middle school here at Boys Town to ask about mentoring, and I have my first meeting this Friday. I'll be teaching reading for an hour a week.

I also called Big Brothers/Big Sisters and expressed an interest, and they're coming over to my apartment on Monday for our screening interview.

I'm really excited. Not only will this take up some of my bored-time, but it will be for such a good cause. I really hope I can help these kids, because I'd definitely do anything to make their lives better.

Otherwise, just a steady day that kept my typing fingers busy for the most part, and more lists with the NXNW guys.

I wish I knew more music nerds around here, because I miss spilling all these bands out for people. Reviews are great, but fast-talking with my fellow DJs in Chicago was the best. That's okay, all this indie rock knowledge will come in handy if I ever get on Rock & Roll Jeopardy.

Who am I kidding?
"I'll take Peaches & Herb for 200."

2002-11-11T18:37:00.000-08:00

Day two of hit.self.destruct, and I'm already on version 2.0 of design. I really like this better than the star thing; it's more stylish and fitting. I feel like I need a red emergency phone to complete the ensemble.

Today was characterized by the world's most terrible cramps, and my friend Bobby's sweet letter trying to cheer me up. It's great knowing I can find resiliance outside of myself, because sometimes, I'm just not strong enough to bounce back alone.

[ hormones will do that to a person. ]

I wound up spending all of last night crying on my floor, due to cramps and chemical imbalance. And Eric was in one of his funks, so we weren't very good company for each other. It's a wonder nobody lost an eye.

Regardless, I felt much better today after my coworker friend, Sara, gave me some Midol. It was smooth sailing once I lost all feeling in my torso. I even cracked out the acoustic guitar tonight, which is something I haven't done in ages.

[ also gave the reasons behind my top 5 track-ones list at Kind of Like Sonar. I feel I'm a genius. ]

I'm still trying to figure out ways to bide my time when I'm bored around the apartment. Today it was a bath, pajamas, and Jets to Brazil, which seemed to work out just fine. I'm also thinking about tackling Othello once and for all.

I miss school. More precisely, I miss having people ask me questions that require a deep amount of thought. I miss learning new things. I guess I should enrich my book life and take matters into my own hands. When you pour so much of your personal identity into school, then it's gone, there's so much confusion.

I find tedium so stressful. It feels like standing still too long in uncomfortable shoes. I want to jump out of my own skin when I'm bored.

I'm going to have to learn to match wits with myself.

2002-11-10T12:31:00.000-08:00

Brett Favre is amazing.

The fact that that is the first sentence I've typed in this new journal seems justifiable, because I know it's true. The truth is always a good place to start.

The Packers are up 40 to 7, looking like the team to beat, and somehow this empty apartment seems alive with the crowd of an elated football field. I feel like all my family and friends are here, though for the first time in my entire life, I am living by myself. And I'm trying to stay convinced that "alone" isn't such a bad place to start, either.

Part of me is still sad every day at the prospect of letting go. I feel like I'm crossing a rickety bridge -- it can be done, but I have to make sure to watch my step and hold on, because my support is missing in places.

I do have some wonderful friends here. The closest of whom is Eric, and it's a good thing, because we spend so much time together. Never have I dated someone who I enjoy so thoroughly; we just love to be around each other. It's great, through and through. Six months, as of yesterday, and I have no reason to complain.

I'm also very close with a group of girls, which is the first time I could ever say that. It's almost a little unnerving that I can't talk about football and rock music every time I turn around, but I know that these people are here for me whenever I need them, and it makes me feel more at home.

Still, my mind feels like it's dampening down due to a lack of intellectual stimulation between work and home. I'm so used to the school setting, and being engaged by new and interesting information, that my therapist [now Dr. Shaddy] tells me it is causing me to be depressed.

It is partially in the interest of having a way out from under the tedium that I've revivied my journal in the first place. Miette.org, while once mine, now belongs to someone who uses a cat picture as a splash page, and I wish them the best of luck... but I'm back to having a place to call my own.

It is also because I love so many people who are so far from Omaha, or so it seems, that I want to find a way to continue sharing my life's thoughts and events with them.

So what brought me to this strange and uneasy place? It's complicated. I knew that after my stint at the hospital, I wouldn't want to move somewhere where I had no family, as was originally planned. If anything were to happen, I wanted to have the peace of mind that I'd have someone to call.

After visiting Omaha, it had a strong pull of both city and country life. The music scene is burgeoning here, it's an easy city to maneuver, and the people are very friendly. I also knew, as my Aunt Mary helped me look though the newspaper for a job, that I would have a chance to work at Boys Town, where I could honestly make a difference in people's lives.

It's important to me that the time I spend benefits others who might need it. I feel like the doors are all open for me at Boys Town, and when I decide how exactly I'd like to help, I will have every opportunity. As of right now, I edit copy for forthcoming publications and try to assist in odd projects for the people on my staff. It's a start while I buy some time and get comfortable.

I'm also fortunate enough to have a creative outlet at lost.at.sea, where I write music reviews. I should have a few more up there tomorrow that I just turned in. It feels a lot like a continuation of my work at WLUW, though I don't get the same camaraderie I would from walking into that musty, condemned, loveable building.

It seems that the hardest part of my move is remembering that the past parts of my life that were so great still are, but that I have to embrace the new good things as they come. I have every waking day to figure out where I belong in this new home.

Here's to new beginnings.