Moving Apart

My parents and brother are out of town this weekend visiting various colleges, coincidentally including Madison.  So this morning I had to take the dog out.  I'm standing outside in the dewy yard only half covered in sunshine because the sun is still partly hiding behind the house.  Bailey is screwing around sniffing things so I'm looking around my immediately visible neighborhood.  Then a car pulls in the driveway across the street.  My attention is piqued because I haven't seen this car or the driver in a month and a half.

It's K.  And we haven't spoken for a month and a half because that's the last time I sent her a text (which she never replied to).  I'm standing in my yard tethered to my crazy dog who is trying to find the best spot to pee, wondering if she sees me.  If she's wondering what the hell happened as much as I am.

I was going to text her last night.  But then Grey's Anatomy came on, I had some Smirnoff Ices and soon it would be time for bedy-bye.  I thought that it was unlikely she'd text back anyway, especially if it was 9 pm.  (For the record in normal situations, I would have called such a person, but whenever I would call her, she would text back.  So I don't call anymore.)  I thought, Oh, I'll just text her tomorrow.

And then this morning happened.  Nothing huge.  Except that while I'm standing outside in the wet grass watching Bailey take a leak, I notice some men coming out of the front door of her house.  They are carrying a piece of furniture.  They are loading it into the truck parked outside the cul-de-sac.

She's moving?  Today?

This wasn't that big of a surprise.  I knew her parents are getting a divorce.  I knew her mom was moving to an apartment 15 minutes away.  I knew K was moving with her.  I knew all this but when I saw the men moving the stuff out I was enraged.  I was sad.  I was some bundle of incoherent emotions.

She's moving today?

She didn't tell me.  She didn't text or call or walk the thirteen steps to my house to tell me she moving all of her shit out of her house today.

What?

When was I supposed to find out about this?  When I finally decide that I want to make an effort for our friendship even if she won't?  When I text to see if she wants to do something and she says 'Oh I'm at my mom's place.  Can't.' ?

When did our friendship come to this?  Should I even call it that anymore?  Does our relationship warrant the use of that term anymore?  What happened?

I don't know.

I know people grow apart.  I know I've talked and complained about this situation to you guys and to my mom.  I know it gets annoying.  But I think if I can figure out what's wrong I can fix it, I can repair this whatever this is.

And then this morning I saw the moving truck.  I saw her car pull into the driveway.  But I didn't see her come over to talk to me.  I didn't see an incoming text explaining that, oh yeah, she's moving out today.  I didn't see anything.  So I consoled myself with a tub of red velvet cake ice cream and Firefly reruns.

Maybe I shouldn't try to repair this.

But I'll probably text her.  Finally.  This afternoon, tonight.  Asking if she wants to do anything.  Really, asking something else entirely:  do you still want to be my friend?  

A Very Embarrassing Store

In romantic comedies (or just comedies in general) there is often a slapstick scene where the hero/heroine due to their lack of foresight or clumsiness gets into an embarrassing/potentially harmful situation. (See pretty much every scene in Meet the Parents.)

Now in most romantic comedies it's usually a girl falling down a flight of steps or off a piano or something. It usually endears us to the girl as a likeable character we can easily root for.

My life is not so cinemagentic.

What follows is a story involving all of those elements without none of the appeal because it contains me and, by extension my feet. I apologize for sharing this story with you, but I can not hide my shame any longer.

Every now and again I come down with a case of athlete's foot (Athlete's feet? atheletes' feet? What's the proper punctuation there?) I don't know why. Maybe it's because I have very hot feet by nature, but it happens. Usually I try to ignore for a night or two and see if it goes away. If it doesn't than I have to go out and buy some spray which, after a few days, with get rid of this pretty gross fungal growth on my foot.

This past week I have been suffering from a bad case of athlete's foot. What happens is I get into bed and my feet, when they're under the nice warm covers, go into paroxysms of ichiness. When it happens at night I know there is nothing I can do so I just try to ignore it and go to sleep.

The problem with this, is that I forget about my agony when I'm awake. So it's a couple of days before I remember to do anything about it. Two nights this week I went to sleep gritting my teeth and trying mightily hard not to itch my feet. I cannot describe to you the agony of unitched athlete's feet. It's like there's a tingling in your feet but it's a tingling that burns. It's like little insects are walking over your feet and biting you . . . but it also itches. I heard recently that it's irritation and not pain that's the worse thing your skin can endure. When you itch a scratch, it's actually pain you're feeling. It just feels good by comparison.

After the last few nights, I believe it.

So last night it was about 12:30am and I was sitting in bed. My feet started to itch as I was falling asleep and I decided I just couldn't stand it anymore. I got up, threw on some clothes, and went into the kitchen to steal my parent's debit card.(Btw. Our parents pretty much hand us the debit card whenever we want any money, so this part of the story isn't quite as bad as it sounds.)

Why did I have to take my parent's debit card at all, you ask? Well, because I am currently broke city. I have less than ten dollars in my bank account. I start my job at Harmony Cafe tomorrow and I probably won't be paid for another week after that, maybe too. I literally could not afford the eight dollars to buy my own athlete's foot spray. It's just terrible.

So I grabbed my mom's card out of her purse (I grabbed my dad's initially, but then thought of how embarrassing it would be if I was caught buying athlete's foot spray with someone else's card so I put it back. (I can usually pass as my mom.)

I took the card to a nearby gas station, but I'm pretty sure that the gas station was closed and, to make matters worse, they had JUST decided to repave their parking lot apparently so I couldn't even get in.

My heart heavy, I went to the local Festival Foods which I knew was open twenty-four hours. I drove up, walked in, and I promptly realized I was the only customer in the store. I was very, very tired at this point. I hadn't slept much the night before and my eyes were watering. So I was pretty braindead as I started walking around the store looking for spray for my poor itchy feet (which were still itching mightily, I might add).

Now I hate asking salespeople where things are. I can't stand it. Whenever I'm with my parents and we go the store for something they walk right up the salesperson and ask. It drives me nuts. I want to hide. So I was going to be damned if I was going to ask one of the six salespeople that were taking inventory of the store at night where to get podiatric medicine. (It's so a word.)

I'm not that familiar with where everything in Festival is anyway and it's a huge store, so I had to look for about ten minutes before I finally found it in the aisles with soap and other cleaning supplies. (It was not by the toothpaste and advil as I had suspected.)

Then I walked out of the store, checked out where the clerk said, "Good night, Gladys!" (That's not my mother's name, I changed it here to protect the innocent.) To which I thought. "Yes, yes my name is Gladys. Because that's who I am." I went to my car, drove home, and immediately got out the bottle to ease the pain in my feet and-disaster struck.

I was tired, mind you, and I incorrectly assume that it was the kind of bottle where you took off the bottle top and then sprayed it. Instead, it was the kind of bottle where you just pressed down at the top. So I took off the top, realized my mistake, and tried to put it back on.

It started spraying everywhere and it wouldn't stop.

I had to run to the bathroom (I had been just inspecting it by the front door) and jump into the bathtub to avoid it from getting everywhere. The spray made the bottle really cold and it actually hurt to touch so I was having problems getting the top back on. And there was all my precious Lotramine Ultra disappearing into the bathtub and NOT providing soothing relief to my feet.

So I scooped it up off the floor of the bathtub and wiped it on my feet and then struggled to try to get it to stop spraying. Finally, I managed to fix it. Then I got up, sprayed my poor feet, and then spent a good five minutes cleaning up the bathroom. (Which included the snowy footprints my feet left after I sprayed them, which meant that I crawled on my hands and knees back to my room so I wouldn't get them on the carpet.)

Anyway, long story short, my feet feel better. Also, I'm gross. If anyone ever asks you, "What's your friend like?" You should, "she's gross." She's a gross individual.

Women in romantic comedies have adorable, pretty people problems and pretty people mishaps. No one would ever write the story I just told you into a screenplay because it is too unspeakably horrible for words.

Pretty girls never seem to have these problems. I wish I could be like them.

Michael Vey: the electric boy

I finished this book about week ago, so I should probably review it for y'all.  It's called Michael Vey: The Prisoner of Cell 25 by Richard Paul Evans.  It's a YA novel.  It's the first in a series.  It's sci-fi.  My mom read it and suggested it to me.  And I loved it.

Of course this type of book has been my bread and butter since I was ten, so of course I'm biased to like this genre, but this also makes me a little more critical if something isn't working.  But this book works.  From the first chilling chapter to the introduction of Michael to the action-packed finale, I was engaged, fascinated and left wanting more.  Exactly what I want from a book.

The initial chapter (like 2 pages) focuses on two nameless villains discussing "the last two" children they are looking for.  They have a million dollar bounty on both of these kids, because they need to find them quick because "you know how difficult they are to turn at this age."  Then they ominously mention Cell 25 as a place to put these kids if they can't be turned.  Terrifying, brief, lets us know how serious these villains are, and whets our appetite for more.  Though I will concede that this is not a new tactic.  (See Ender's Game and almost any other YA sci-fi novel...)  But I love this genre, so it works for me.

The second chapter (another short one) introduces us to Michael.  This could have been a throw-away chapter, Hi, my name is blah-blah, I'm special, read about me.  But I was really impressed by how much we learn about him, how clear his voice is, and how drawn into the story I was.  It starts: "It's not like I was looking for trouble.  I didn't have to.  At my height it just always found me."  Gold.  We learn a lot and want to know more.  The rest of the chapter is similar.  Michael is 14, lives in Idaho, is short and bullied, and has a huge secret.

We soon find out (if you didn't read the book jacket) that he is electric.  That is he can control electricity.  Over the course of the book we learn more about his abilities, the others that have abilities, and actually quite a bit about electricity itself.  This rooting in actual science make the abilities more believable and intriguing.  Clearly, the author did some heavy duty research and I appreciate the realistic credentials it lends to the story.

More about character voice: Michael's is pitch perfect.  From the first few chapters, we get small details that inform his character.  (He thinks rice krispies are the best food invented, he knows ninth grade is the armpit of life...)  These are great and having them peppered in the story giving Michael a more realistic feel and a genuinely 14-year-old point of view.  Also, POV in first person, at least when we are following Michael around (which is most of the time).  But we do slip into third person to see events that Michael is not privy to.  I didn't have a problem with this.  I know having 1st person, especially in a YA novel, makes sense since the reader is that much closer to the character.  So I couldn't decide if there was really any way to do this better.  We need to know about the other things that happen, but I don't think we need to sacrifice the 1st person of Michael just to have a little smoother transition from character to character throughout the book.  Like I said, I didn't see a problem here, but others might so thought I mention it to see if you have any further comments on this issue.

More about action:  There is a pretty long action sequence at the end (which I zoomed through) and it's executed superbly.  Many of the characters are very intelligent and some have powerful abilities.  This combination made a great climax because Evans utilized both smartly.  And once it was over, I wanted to read about them to continuing on their quest (it is the beginning of a series).

So I have to say, mission accomplished for this book.  I enjoyed what I read and wanted more.  So I recommend checking it out.

Decisions are so much easier when they are made for you

Didn't get the job.  The one I was flown to Madison to interview for.  The one my dad coached me on interview questions and bargaining tactics.  The one my mom was pretty sure I was a shoe in for.

I guess that makes the decision of whether or not to move to Madison easier.  And whether or not I want to deal with their shit winters.  And whether or not project management is really something I want to do.  And whether or not I want to be traveling more than half of the time after moving to a new city where I don't know anyone.  And whether or not I want to move to a new city and have a job that prevents me from bringing my cats.  And whether or not I want to cancel that last craft fair I signed up for.

All no's.

So like I said, it makes that decision easier.  Okay, eliminates my decision altogether, but now I don't have to make those other difficult decisions.  So that's good.  I still don't have a job, my mom wants me to work at Macy's again, and I don't know when I'll have a real job.  But, hey, my cat is still gonna be sleeping in my bed, so I'm sure everything will turn out.

Mightier Than

I'm so tired

I'm back, but first I'd like to say




Okay, now back to business.

I got back from Toronto on Saturday after a supposed eleven hour drive turned into a thirteen hour drive after a ton of highway construction. The only good part about adding two hours to my trip was at least I had some amazing bagels and David Sedaris audio books.

For the past few days I have suffered from a great amount of fatigue and just plain woe. I did not have internet on the road or barely at home because of my parents living in the middle of the woods. Currently I am just hoping to make it to Minneapolis or somewhere in the MidWest next year so I can get out of here.

Just wanted to give an update. A more concise one will come soon, but I just did not want you guys to worry. Now for something fun.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=laq2rNiWDYQ

The Shadow Self (Who is Your Shadow)

So my parents and I were on the way to see Horrible Bosses yesterday (which I thought was very funny despite a few problems with the story) when we started to about my brother. Apparently my brother is not getting along with his roommate. I mean, it's not like they're fighting or anything like that, they just NEVER talk.

His roommate is super religious (I mean, not like he's tried to convert my brother or anything, it's just there.) More than than extremely quiet, which my mom's private response was "THIS IS WHAT IT'S LIKE TRYING TO TALK YOU!" But I digress.

My dad was joking about how my brother's roommmate is his "shadow self." I'd never heard this term and so I asked him to elaborate. Apparently Carl Jung (a contemporary of Freud) talked about the shadow self being the dark side of the ego. It's the part of you that you don't like and it's always there, but sometime suppressed. He goes on to talk about how sometimes the people that you instinctively hate are manifestations of your shadow self. (If you want to read more about it, here's the wikipedia entry. I didn't do super a lot of research okay.)

Anyway, despite the fact that Jung's view on psychology is problematic and wrong, I think the idea of a shadow self is really interesting. I started to think about who my shadow self might be. The kind of person that I just instinctively hate. And then it hit me.

The girl from the class me and Ada had together. You might know the one.

For the purposes of this post I'm going to call her "Stephanie." There's usually a Stephanie in my literary and creative classes. Stephanie is a girl who dominates conversation. She talks about her own personal projects and eats up all the class time discussing obscure parts of the literature with the teacher. This not only detracts from people that want to have other conversations, but she brings up the same things AGAIN and AGAIN.

In my case, Stephanie always talked about how translated poetry is problematic because sometimes there's just no equivalent for a word when you translate it into another language. (Which is a good point. It is a problem.) Then she WENT ON to hammer this fact into the ground until I just wanted to scream, "Fine, Stephanie. We'll never read any poetry unless we can read both languages and translate it line by line. I'm going to have to go back and learn ancient Greek for the Odyssey, but I'm sure it'll be worth it. WILL THAT MAKE YOU HAPPY?"

She also talked about how she had this fabulous job lined up in London but she didn't take it because she loved her nieces so much which A. If it's true is SUPER annoying and braggy and B. Isn't true.

But getting back to the point at hand.

I think that Stephanie might be my shadow self. At least, she's the kind of person that I actively avoid trying to be. Self-important, dominating in conversations and sort of an unbearable know-it-all. I think there are things that I hate more about my self (lack of self-esteem, weight, etc.), but I really fear becoming a Stephanie. It's someone I really don't want to be, especially when it comes to my own writing.

I think that all writers get into a swing every now and then where they think, "Everything I create is the purest poetry!" but I want to be able to look at my work critically. I want to be confident but still realistic about the things I make. Especially because I want to be able to make the tough calls that will make my writing better. (I believe the phrase is, "You have to murder your children in a bathtub with an ice pick." I'm 90 percent sure.)

There's also the fact that a good portion of the time I made poop jokes aimed at a fifth grade reading level. So clearly I have no business getting a big head about my writing.

With all that in mind, I ask you this. What is your "shadow shelf"? What kind of person do you instinctively hate? Who do you fear becoming and why?

The Athena Project: where women kick ass

Hello again.  Since we are supposed to be posting more about the books we are reading, I'll review one I just finished.  It's The Athena Project by Brad Thor.  I'll be honest, I picked up the book at one of few remaining Borders because of the word Thor.  Before setting it down because this was only the author's name, I read the inside cover and it was about a team of secret government operatives kicking ass.  The best part: they are all women.

This book had some great, intense and harrowing action scenes.  And I really like that it centered around four women.  This team of four are athletic, attractive women that were recruited by the military to do covert counterterrorism operations in situations where men would not be given access or whatever.  Neat concept, I thought.  And Thor executes it pretty well.

A couple issues I had right away though were the women's characterizations and the jumpiness of the novel.  The reader is introduced to these four women and a paragraph for each summarizes their character and appearance.  While reading it, I thought this approach was a little heavy handed and too much info at one time.  Although, later I referred back to it to keep the four women straight.  (Oh, and I should note these characters have been in another book, so maybe these descriptions were just to get me up to speed.)

Another issue was that in only a couple chapters in we switch locations to follow a new cast of characters.  My initial reaction was, What the hell?  Go back to the chicks in Venice kicking ass and taking prisoners! I don't care what these new people are doing in a top secret military meeting.  No one is getting thrown out of windows here!  Later, I understood that we needed to get some of that background from the people in the meeting, but I still didn't like the interruption in the flow of action.  This jumpiness continued throughout the book.

Part of the problem with switching between three to four different places with completely different characters is all of the names.  I don't know what the appeal is, but Thor loves using first and last names.  I understand using both names when introducing new characters, but constantly referring to all characters by either their first or last name when you have so many characters in various places around  the world doing completely different things, I get confused.  It interrupts flow and brings me out of the book when I have to go searching through what I've already read to figure out who I'm reading about now.

Another glaring issue within this same idea:  Thor opens the book with some doctor rooting around in the jungles of Paraguay.  We don't get back to the jungle until page 200.  Eh.  I'm not sure that's okay with me.  I understand his reasoning; we need some significant background and things to happen before we can fully understand what the doctor found in the jungle.  But still, 200 pages seemed a little too long to keep us hanging.  Though I could see how this opening (if speeded up) would be a good opening in a movie.

In fact, his writing seems kind of cinematic in scope.  I could picture all of the things that happened and all of the amazing stunts the women pulled off like it was a movie.  Although the terrifying Nazi machine they find might be a bit graphic for PG-13...

Anyway, there were some clear problems I had with it, but overall The Athena Project was an enjoyable action thriller worth looking in to, if you're into that sort of thing.

Beautifully Broken

Beautifully                              Broken

There is wonder                        but I

don’t think there is                    here or

not, knotted and                       nowhere

tied into strings                         strung high

but then it slips                         no lie,

from grasp into                         a scare

unknown unseen                       unaware

communion in                           to sky-

line with some for                      -ward

seeing what is                           broken

down and outted                        into

myself and our                           shards of

particular                                   token

formed together                         beauty.

*

An Interview with Madison

As you all know, I had an interview in Madison this week.  I was flown up on Wednesday and then did a full day of interviewing at the company on Thursday.  And because I'm sure you're all very interested, I'll tell ya what I did...

First off a small note on airports.  I had a short layover in Detroit on the way up and another in Chicago on the way back.  The Detroit airport is very nice and so is the one in Madison.  I could tell that Chicago O'Hare was older, but it was still nice.  However, St. Louis Lambert compared poorly to all of these places.  I think its in the middle of a renovation, but it still looked sorry.  Detroit was newer and had tons of those motorized walkways.  I love walking on those.  I feel so fast.  Though there was an uncomfortable moment when riding on it reminded me of how the vampires 'walk' in Twilight.  (Yeah, it was a pretty bad effect.  But then, that movie was in general.)

Once I got to Madison, I went to the hotel the company put me up in.  Very nice.  Called The Edgewater.  And my room was literally on the water's edge.  My window looked out onto one of the two lakes near Madison, and right below the waves crashed on the rocks of the shore.  Really pretty.  And calming when I went to sleep.  I could see windsurfers and sailboats jetting around the lake, and I thought, Okay I can dig this place.

After unpacking, I went walking around the city.  I was close to downtown and I walked around (and in) the state capitol building.  And then I strolled down State Street and grabbed coffee at one of the many coffee shops.  (The mint mocha was pretty excellent, and I thought of you, Ada.)  The feel I got from downtown was very similar to downtown IC, just bigger.  It's very much a college town, but it's also a capitol and just bigger than IC.  It seemed very homey and cozy, more so than St. Louis (especially in the safety department)  but not stiflingly so.  It was also very pretty with the 2 lakes.

I could see myself possibly living there.

Well, except for the death-winter season.  That would be shit.

Wednesday night a person who works at the company took me and two other guys out to dinner.  We ate at a place right off Capitol Square.  And the food was great.  I had my first cheese curd.  (Cerasi should know what this is, but for everyone else, it's like a mozzarella stick except in the form of a ball and with cheddar cheese.  It was delicious.  But then, I'm a sucker for fried anything much less cheese.)

Later that night I went over the presentation I had to give as a part of my interview.  Let me tell you, thrilling.

That morning, I got breakfast delivered to my room.  (Also on the company tab.)  The taxi was late and I was freaking out because that meant I was gonna be late, so I called them and said I would be late while apologizing profusely.  I arrived maybe 5 minutes late, instead of my projected 10, though and they were totes cool with it.  Turns out there was another girl even later than I was.  She missed the tour.

Oh, the tour.  We popped in 3 of their 11 buildings.  I swear, I did more tromping around in my wedge heels that day than I have since I purchased them.  But whatevs, back to their 11 building campus.   The buildings are gorgeous with neat, mountain-logdge like architecture.  They have landscaped the shit out of the surrounding area.  And the interior design of each building is based on a different theme.  (which include Heaven, Jungle, New York, Dungeons and Dragons...)  Fabulous.  The more I see, the more impressed I get.

It was a long day of interviewing though.  We watched a presentation of the software they produce.  Then we talked to an actual project manager about what he does.  There was a strange interview part where another guy and I were put in a room, given a case study and given 10 minutes to analyze it and come up with suggestions.  And then the same guy asked us some random questions.  Then it was lunchies!  (Outside of which is a deck on a little pond with a waterfall running into it..)  After that I had 3 different assessment tests to take.  (Fuck me, one was math.)  Then I had to give that presentation, which I think went okay.  And finally I talked to my recruiter.  She asked a couple more situational questions (what would you do if...) and personality questions.  Then I asked questions.  And we wrapped it up.  They'll let me know within 2 weeks if I made the cut.

You'll notice there was no technical writing stuff.  That's because when they sent me the invitation email to come up to interview they screwed it up.  They put technical writer instead of project manager.  Huh.  My dad said I should send them a thank you note thanking them for interviewing me for a software engineer position.

When I asked about this during the day, my recruiter took me into her office and apologized and said that they were looking for a very specific style of writing and mine didn't seem to match.  But they thought I was strong candidate, blah, blah and they wanted me to do something else.  Well, lucky for them, I am still interested in the project manger thing.  (In fact, I thought there might have been a mix up like this since a few days before I got the invitation they called me saying I was no longer considered for writing, and if I'd still be interested in project management.)  Anyway, ballsack.

So we'll see.  I think I'd be good at project management, even though it's not what I intended to do.  And it's not like I can't write creatively on my own.  Maybe it's better to just do that.  I don't know.  Oh, and I'd be traveling 50-70% of the time.  That's a lot of goddamn travel.  In my life right now, that sounds kind of exciting.  But I don't know if I'd want to do that my whole career.  Like if I settle down and get a family and all that.  Not that I would have to worry about that now, but it's a little relevant.

So I'll let you know what they say in 2 weeks.

A Poem (WHY DOES BLOGGER HATE ME!!)

Since I just left a long and lengthy comment on Ada's poem (this is the first time I saw it, sorry it took me so long to respond) I felt it was only fair if I presented a poem too.

This is not the way it looked originally because Blogger is anti-poetry. It donates millions of dollars each year to the anti-poetry fund, I swear to god. (YES SUCH A THING EXISTS!) However, I've done my best to restore it to it's original formatting. Give me comments, I appreciate them.

- <3 to my POWers.

Kids Today

I feel myself being drained and I am

only 22.

but my years are so much longer than those of others

and there is a light year between me and those in high school,

who can remember that?

A time when now, it seems, everyone is involved in

blowjob bracelets and

rainbow parties and

underwear sacrosanct and

graduating with degrees in labia-ology with an emphasize in cervix memorabilia.

Those girls, those girls.

what whores, I imagine them to be.

Me and my friends were never engaged in such effigiac turmoil,

none of this pot and booze and clitoral movie nights!

What happened to a simpler time

when we would all just sit at home

and whine about being unlovable?

That’s how a girl should grow up, by god!

POW Conference in Review

9/9/10 - 9/11/10

The first POW Conference was a resounding success!  I'm glad we could all make it, and I hope we will all be together again soon.  

I wanted to review some of the topics we discussed and let you know about some things.  

-  Advertising:  I was going through the steps to set up Google Adsense and then it talked about filing tax forms and minimum amounts to get paid.  Whoever signs up (probably me) would have to file tax returns on the earnings from the ad.  And then I would have to take it out of my bank account and divide it among the 4 of us.  Oh, and we don't get paid unless it crosses the threshold of $10.  Um, this sounds like more trouble than its worth.  Mostly because I don't feel like doing the tax shit.  Taxes are complicated and I don't like paying them anyway. So, unless one of you wants to take this over, I don't think we are going to put up an ad after all.  

- I tried to set up a private page, but Blogger won't let you password protect only one page.  Which is exceptionally unhelpful.  I did read a forum that said I could create another blog, make it private, then merge the 2 blogs, but that seemed really complicated.  I'll fb y'all what I came up with as the solution.  

- Email notifications:  If you want to get an email when someone comments (I already receive them...), you can go to the Blogger Dashboard (or click New Post to get there), click on the Settings tab and then the Comments tab below that.  At the bottom of the page there's a Comment Notification Email section.  Enter your email here.  

-  Some other suggestions we talked about:  have more comments and discussion about posts, have more posts with literary or literary news topics, mail a collaborative poem (don't send to Cylon first... ;).  So keep these things in mind as we blog forward. 

-  Theme of the Month:  Cylon suggested we have monthly prompt to push us to experiment with a form perhaps outside our comfort zone.  This of course is optional, but since we haven't been doing any prompts I think we should give it a try.  Do you have something in mind, Cylon, (or anyone else) of a form you want to try or would be a good way to stretch our writing muscles?  

I think that was it.  Well, that's all I wrote down.  If you have something to add or if you've thought of something else since our fabulous conference, let us know.  

As always, <3 you all.
And may the writing be with you.

I hope this works / and a Teaser

I know you all know about Snapdragon Designs by now.  Here's a link to my website and Etsy shop though if you need them handy.

But anyway, since I've really gone all in on this business venture, I really hope it pans out.  I haven't gotten any orders on either site, and I know I haven't really marketed it and I need to go to shows before I can really expect something to happen, but I'm still  worried.

I've spent a lot of (my dad's) money to get all of the materials and supplies I need, so I really hope that I can make back that money.

I've signed up to do some craft shows in the area, so after those I'll have a better idea of whether this business is really viable or not.  But right now, I'm just kinda sitting at home continuing to knot pearl bracelets and such, hoping that someone will end up buying it.

So yeah, that's what's going on right now.  It's funny, I didn't really think I wanted to be an entrepreneur but here I am.. entrepreneuring.

In other news, cannot wait to see you on Friday!  Also, get excited:

... I've made some plans....  

Thoughts and Random

I love seeing my friends look all professional and grownup on websites. Ada and Allya, they're both beyond gorgeous websites. Uh, Cylon, I guess I haven't seen you on a website lately, but I hope you don't feel left out. You're lovely and grownup and gorgeous too. :)

I got to see my cousin's baby on Saturday. I even got to hold him (though the first time my cousin offered him to me I pretty much froze because I simultaneously really wanted to hold him and was afraid I would kill him). I'm pretty sure that was the first time I've ever held a baby. At least in recent memory. And I've got to say, it was pretty great.

He was pretty much pooping constantly while I held him (the sound is pretty gross) but he was still one of the most absolutely beautiful things I have ever seen in my life. And then he fell asleep and it was heaven. All I could think while I was holding him is that I loved him and I didn't care if he grew up to be a bro or a hipster douchebag or even president of the Stephanie Meyer fan club.

But that is neither here nor there.

I think we're going to do great things, all of us. I would like to go on record as saying that the four of us are going to be amazing, professional, sexy women. (Well five, I guess, I think Dale will be great too, he's just not a woman.) We should do something collaborative sometime. I don't know what, but we should.

I think I'm happy to be moving on from college for the first time, though I still miss it terribly. But either way, I can't wait to see you guys on Friday. You're simply the best. <3

Gene Simmons is a Creepy Mofo

This has nothing to do with anything, but this is an NPR interview with Gene Simmons from Kiss. Apparently it was never published for whatever reason, but it makes him sound like a HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE person. Seriously. Count the number of times he hits on her. Make it a drinking game and you will get drunk.

I've got to give props to Terry Gross (the woman that's interviewing him) if I was in that situation I don't know how I would have continued.

See it here!

Funzies: Because We Can

Hey y'all, it's Allya and here's the lowdown: I went to two interviews today.  I got an email saying one of the places I've applied to wants to bring me in to an interview (like fly me to Madison, to do so).  Oh, and Cylon and I spent the rest of the day toodling around Forest Park and St. Charles.  Loves it!  I wish you could be here.  Also, St. Charles is full of some weird shit.  (We walked up and down the historic street district, which is kinda like downtown IC with cute shops and shit).

The highlight reel: Cylon running out of a shop because the creepy shop owner proffering an animated witch's hat; the same shop having a busty Santa apron; like BUSTY Santa apron; Cylon buying doggie treats from a doggie bakery; me sampling wines and loving the chocolate one; Bailey (my German shepard) busting in on Cylon in the bathroom; me showing Cylon the Muny!; Cylon not visiting Barnes Jewish Hospital and not finding a doctor for her future husband like her mother suggested; seriously, like busty melons in a SANTA apron; cupcakes that were 1/2 pound; Cylon being terrified of an animated mouse playing Christmas songs on a mini piano (he turned his head!); and to cap off the day, watching Karaoke USA because that's all that's on my tv on Friday nights.

~

Whoa, whoa lady. This is Cylon here and I will give you the real dish on what happened today. This morning I woke up and read ten pages of The Letters of Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg in the bath. I went downstairs and tra-la-laed with the dog until I realized I needed birth control. Within an hour I went to Walgreens to pick it up after a transfer. (Hooray corporate technology!) Got home and drank lite chocolate muscle milk for my stomach. Unfortunately I read the label and found it actually was not milk but milk protein. As you can imagine, with my birth control and allergy medicine it tasted like chocolatey chalk with a smooth aftertaste. I downed two blueberry muffins within ten minutes afterwards.

Allya got home and we decided to eat at a local Mexican restaurant. All the tables and chairs had the exact same painting on it. Color me cynical but I call that tacky and weird. My margarita was terrible and had barely any salt, not a good compliment to my stomach pill at all. Highlights: freaking out over a talking mouse on a keyboard doing jingle bells (not cool), same store had a X-Mas tree that snowed, not cool summer temps. I ran out of store laughing because all 17 of the rooms had themes and the lady kept on telling me she was old. Entering an informercial for a hat that turned into purse where the Cupcake Wars champion sold their cupcakes. I only watch that show drunk on sangria. Yes, I did buy dog treats for my poorly trained and house broken dogs but dammit they deserve it. Choco wine? Not fetch.

Overall, awesome day, awesome place, dog burst into a LOCKED bathroom door and would not get away from the bath tissue.

Week One (This is a long one, sorry guys)

Sorry I've been off the blog, but I've been busy. In addition to my internship, I interviewed for this job at a really nice coffee shop. It's not just a coffee shop, they do a bunch of stuff in the community for LGBT people and charity stuff and they're linked to Goodwill. Anyway, they have two rounds of interviews. I made it through the first one and I'll have the second one next week. Hopefully when I see all of you beautiful women next week I'll be employed. Fingers crossed.

My internship has been pretty great, even though I haven't worked very much yet. I worked Monday-Wednesday, but I only did part of Tuesday because I had that job interview. Also, I would normally work Thursday, but I changed it to Friday so I could take my brother to school yesterday.

So far, I've been mostly updating the events calendar and entering events into the main character (which seems like it will be a fair amount of my job), but I have written something all ready. Which was quite a shock. I wrote a little feature on a play that's going up in October and sent it off to my editor today. We'll see if I have the format all wrong (I hope not).

I'll also be keeping a blog up as often as I can for the magazine, so I'm super excited about that. I just need to think of ideas.

This internship seems like it's a good balance between kind of monotonous boring duties (i.e. that calendar) and actual formulating stories and writing. It's pretty great and I feel so lucky to have this job.

Yesterday, as I mentioned, we spent most of the day in Eau Claire. We packed up my brother's stuff and helped him move in. My parents were sad and I know I'll miss him, but goddamn was he ever softening the blow by being a moody little SHIT all day yesterday.

We dropped him off and then went shopping before we officially left him. During the whole shopping trip he was just not always being very communicative and doing a lot of shrugging and whining. Babhakjsdf! I was actually pretty glad to say goodbye to him.

Obviously, this is just a mood I'm in. I'll miss him next week. It was nice having my brother and sister home with me all summer. (Also he took the XBox which means I'll have to wait until Christmas to finish GTA IV, damnit!)

We're dropping my sister off on Sunday and I'm REALLY going to miss her. I haven't actually seen her much the past two weeks because she's been going on adventures will her friends and bf. They went on this super long canoeing trip for like three days and they got lost and she fell out of a tree and it sounds like it was a lot of fun.

But we're hanging out tonight. I don't know what to do when I'm an only child again. It'll be pretty hard.

Also while we were in Eau Claire we saw my Grandpa. He's not doing so well. I mean, he's doing fine considering his age and infirmity, but he's really deaf and he doesn't move around much. He seemed to know who we all were though, which was nice.

My uncle Paul (who lives in the same city and takes care of my Grandpa a lot) told us a pretty harrowing story about how he had to take my Grandpa to get X-rays and when they got there, they only had one other person to help move him. Then they were trying to get him to stand up on something and apparently my Grandpa was literally whimpering with fear. So that was a hard story to hear.

I kind of get the feeling that that visit to Eau Claire was one of the last times I'm ever going to see my Grandpa. My uncle described him as "fading." So that's a little hard too.

We went and saw Crazy, Stupid Love. Which I actually liked a lot and I don't usually like romantic comedies. It was very funny and every single actor was fantastic. I'm also a little in love with Emma Stone now.

I'm out of things to say and I'm tired and sleepy. (Yes, both tired and sleepy.) So I'ma stop writing in a really abrupt fashion. Love you guys. See you soon.