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I hate this word.

I have no opinion on "Glee," which I have never seen. I was hoping I'd never hear the word in conversation, but somebody opened a conversation with me this weekend by telling me they were now a "Gleek."

all rights

We got our gold sedan. I feel like a grandmother . . . but a grandmother with reliable transportation.


car shopping

My husband and I went car shopping yesterday. The car I got in 2003 (right before we met) isn't as reliable as I'd like it to be given my commute. It feels strange when I think about not driving this car anymore. Even though I've been with him for so much of the time I've owned it, it (and the idea of having "my own car") feels like an artifact of singlehood.

We had an idea of a specific make and model (one that seemed "cool"), but the financial realities have caused us to settle on another, less overtly cool one (okay, not cool at all--it's a sedan). But the idea of being able to wake up and know that a car will be reliable and get me to work without worry seems much more important right now.


I realized yesterday . . .

. . . that I engage in aggressive self-criticism in an attempt to prevent other people from saying first what I suspect they are about to say.

I was doing this yesterday at work. Mid-conversation, I realized what I was doing and that I consistently do this. However, I still couldn't stop. I don't mind saying it and hearing them agree, but the thought of having them say it first is so uncomfortable.

Saturday afternoon

Today is my husband's 40th birthday. I took the day off work (I usually work Saturday, Sunday, and Monday) but he doesn't really want to do anything but play computer games from the 1980s.

That means I don't have much of anything to do besides make him brownies and read this biography of Graham Greene that I began yesterday (it is volume two and I didn't read volume one - I kind of like the challenge of having to guess at most of the action of his childhood and early adult life).

In retrospect, one of the things I liked most about myself as a teenager--and into my early twenties--was that I felt myself (and presented myself) as a unified personality. I was pretty much the same "self" in every situation. That is what I lost in my late twenties. Mostly now I experience myself as some sort of "watered down" version of the self I am in my head. There are things I would like to do tonight, but I can't imagine the reality in which I would do them. Not crazy things necessarily - but something besides just being at home all day.


Hello there!

I haven't posted for quite a while (obviously) and am not even sure who is still on here.

I'm now in Arizona. Same job, different location.

I think I suffered some sort of critical lack of interest in my own life. It made it hard to believe that I could think of anything interesting to say. I often think of starting a blog, but have difficulty thinking of anything. It just seems like a 2010 obligation to put yourself out there.

Is anybody still there?



Who is planning on doing NaNoWriMo this year?

now it is cold here

When I moved, I got rid of all of my jackets because I didn't like them or they were too big. I meant to get a new one, I really did.

Jump six months forward. It is now cold outside and I'm getting ready to go out to dinner. I go to my closet to grab a jacket . . and, of course, find none.


off-line for a while

I somehow screwed up my network and had to wait for somebody to come and fix it for us. So I was off-line for a long while. What's up with everybody?

I am doing well (but quite hungry at the moment).

Mare is recovering from her surgery and is back to her old tricks. Yesterday she found an apple core outside and was very excited. Fortunately, she dropped it when I told her too. She loves apples and sweet potatoes.

phordicus and I celebrated our one-year anniversary in our usual low-key manner.

I have downloaded the Ryan Adams cover of "Down in a Hole" but have not yet listened to it.


I've got a permanent retainer on my lower front teeth. It has been there for ten years or more. Most of the time I forget about it, but once a year or so I will move my tongue the wrong way and cut the bottom of it on a wire. I've done this recently and the bottom of my tongue is really sore and . . . cut.

Inner dialogue--
Me: "Mmm . . time for grapefruit!"
Me: "No way! That will really hurt!"
Me: "But grapefruit is gooooood!"
Me: "Don't do it."
*peels grapefruit, begins to eat it*
Me: "Ow--this really does hurt!"

My husband gets angry and tells me to go back to the orthodontist who put it in and get him to fix it. I don't want to drive to Missouri for something that is a problem once a year or so (if he'd even fix it now) and I don't feel like paying somebody else a couple of hundred dollars to fix it either. I would rather spend my money on things like . . . magazines and Halloween candy and a microchip for my dog.

I was going to write about something else, but I forgot what it was. Oh well.