University Town

Is there anything in the world more entertaining that sitting in a diner listening to freshman Philosophy students debate if we really exist?

I don't think so.

Is this where the panic sets in?

Have I mentioned that I love my apartment? Well, I do. I moved in on Valentine's Day of 2008. Finding it was preceded by about 14 moves around Missoula trying to find the proper fit. When I walked into this one I loved it instantly and waited out about seven other college girls to schmooze the current resident into agreeing to give me the nod with the landlord. She did and it was love.

This Valentine's Day I'll be in the mountains of Arizona married for one day. And someone else will be living here. It's taken a long time for me to accept that but tonight I was a big girl and finally gave my landlord some notice. It feels really final to be giving this up but, at the same time, really good that I'll be able to pass the pad to someone I choose.

That's how the tradition works with my landlord. She lives on the other side of the country so each time the apartment passes hands the former tenant chooses the new one. When I moved in here Katie said to me, "You know, the last four women have each lived here about two years and moved out to be with their partners. We're dubbing this place 'The Last Bachelorette Pad'. You've been warned!" I scoffed openly and thanked her for the key.

She just smiled knowingly.

I have to say, it's not a bad feeling to pass that kind of luck on to another girl.

Giving thanks in my virtual chruch.

One of the most difficult things about working overnight shifts is that no matter how valiant I am in my efforts to remain awake or wake up for church on the Sabbath, it's nearly impossible for me. I would never make it as a medical resident.

It's so hard to write here about every change that has transpired in the last few weeks. I think we're going to go with a list:

*I'm engaged to the greatest guy I've had the pleasure of dating.

*We're getting married on February 13th, 2010.

*I'm moving to Utah.

*We bought a house.

*I'm quitting this job and going to hope for the best in the Utah market.

I can't quite express the fantastic dichotomy between the peace I feel about my decisions and the overwhelming anxiety that comes from such significant changes in such great quantity.

I can't believe my luck, to be honest. It's just astounding that so much that I have consistently desired has, without any warning, fallen into order. Astounding.

While it may not be a conventional expression of my appreciation, this song is the only one I can find that comes close to fitting my mood. Especially the baffled king.

If you wouldn't mind..

Today, in Washington DC, I have two friends I love dearly who are struggling. Both are quite protective of their privacy so I won't go into detail. They're on the verge of ultimate happiness and have encountered a speed bump the size of Ireland. I'm asking that each of you who read this send up a special prayer or thought for them. Of all the things I believe in, I believe in answers to prayers the most. And I know this will help.

If there was a way to blush in a headline, insert it here.

Mike's Mom reads the blog.

Oh yes. Yes, she does. Good heavens, the things I've said here! Happily, a quick (and by quick I mean a very through review of every word) skim of my former posts makes me glad I started a new blog! Far fewer manifestos on, say, make-out. Which, of course, I have never, ever done.

Ever.

But I shall not blog about that (Hi, Marcine!).

I'm going to gush a bit. And you're going to have to deal with it. Tonight I was talking to Mike, as usual (we talk, like, every moment we can), and we were discussing money. Yes, money. We talk about stuff like that. And how we manage it. And I didn't freak out!

To give you some background here, I'm not great with money left to my own devices. I'm not like heroin-addict bad but I'm not good. I am, however, worlds better and getting better (which I am so proud of) every year. But when it comes to talking about it, I have an instant reaction of extreme anxiety. Probably because every time I have to vocalize about it it's been to ask for help or receive some scolding. It's been years since that's actually happened (the scolding, that is, the help part played into my last, jobless year very much) but it's still a topic I can't even broach with my Mom. And that's saying something.

Something about Mike, however, leads me to believe that whatever I throw at him he'll just react rationally, calmly and it will all be fine.* It's truly astounding! When I discuss funds with him I still go to a '2' on the anxiety scale but it's about eight points less that usual. And that's just...astounding. He knows about my financial behaviors of the past, we share our present and we plan for what the future may hold. It's so nice! And it's a financial discussion!

If you had asked me four months ago if I'd be here today, blogging this, I would have laughed you out of my apartment. There is something so basic about the calm Mike gives me, so stable about our connection, that I can't imagine that I ever existed before it. It's both scary and the greatest feeling I've ever felt. And, I tell you what, it's something I'd get a little gushy (even on my blog or--astoundingly--in real life) about so that everyone (Hi Marcine!) has a chance to know how I feel.

Icky? Yes. But so true.



*That is not to say he's always a Zen master. That man can be ...um...passionate about things like, say, idiot drivers or just stupidity in general. But, let's face it, I couldn't live with bland. I'd go nutso.

Back from fishing.

I have so many excuses about why I don't blog regularly. Mostly they're crap. But they feel so valid! For instance, that every weekend since I met TheBoyfriend has been spent either on the road or with a guest. Then the days we're not together, I'm working.*

And the other usual clean/shop/bills junk. But that's all a non-issue. It's mostly the I-don't-want-to-move-or-stop-this-conversation moments that are killing me.

I swear, if I didn't love that man so much it would be way more efficient to just break up with him. Alas, not going to happen. In fact, quite the opposite. We've decided that, come the end of January, I'm going to relocate to Utah in order to further our relationship. 8 hour drives after 12 hour graveyard shifts is fun, I won't lie. But it may be nicer to have a bit more 'normal' in our relationship.

But then, who am I kidding? :)

I can't help, realizing that I will only be in my dear apartment a few more ...weeks, really, wanting to be here as much as I can. I love Montana, this apartment and my life here. It's such a beautiful place--ethereal and physical--that I almost can't fathom living elsewhere. In fact, I planned my life here I never would. But this new adventure is too compelling. I must follow my heart and right now that's going to mean Utah.

So! There it is. The blog of excuses and pleasant exhaustion. Now, after my first day off at home in eons, I'm going to fall into my clean bed in my clean house and just rest for the upcoming upheaval.




*Not that he's not, he is. He just has a normal schedule compared to my 3-4-4-3 of 12 hours--madness! But I do love that schedule.

I'm, like, all over the internet today!

My friend Erin wrote a blog post about lunch with me last week. If, say, you're easily shocked by her opinions of my opinions I wouldn't go the article.*

Also, I just finished dying my own hair for the first time since high school. And I don't think I did a horrible job! I blogged about it on the blog I share with Amber.

And now, I'm off to do laundry, drop my car at the shop and do all manner of other grown up things!


*Hello, Mike's sister. I would like to, right here, refute that I talk about sex as much as Erin says I do. Totally untrue. I have no idea at all where she'd get a notion like that. I'm shocked and appalled. It's possible I'm considering legal action. Or some other such thing. I need this foot note to establish plausible deniability. Just wanted you to know in case you do to read that before meeting me. And if it were true, well, I've changed. I am an angel, pure as the driven snow. Just for the record.

Existing

It's a good thing.

Some of you may know about my new job, some may not. I've avoided going public with the nature of my work because it's one of those jobs, you know? The kind where everyone is a bit fascinated but no one wants to hear the real answers to their questions. It's turning out, however, that I can't vent without revealing why I'm venting--I'm no good at veiled.

So, here goes. At the moment I am a 9-1-1 operator. I spend my shifts answering all kinds of calls, helping dispatch officers and fire/medical assistance. My particular county is huge and, in places, remote so the job has a high degree of variety. I love it. More than I've loved just about any other job. Totally high stress when I'm there and then I can walk out the door and leave it all behind.

Most of it anyway.

The thing that stays with me is the people and my occasional inability to significantly improve their lives. Most people call for something and I can get help there pronto. That's an excellent feeling. Some people call me for help and there is not a dang thing I can do. Less good. The worst?

When people call, there is something I can do, and they don't allow me to do it.

The. pits.

Suicidal calls are rare, of course, but terrible. Tonight we had our yearly quota. I won't tell you about them specifically, I can't. And I wouldn't, really, because there is no reason for you to have to have that in your mind. But I will tell you that there is nearly nothing in the world that can't be overcome. I mean, really. When you're feeling like it's all too much, that there's no point? You're wrong. There's a point. And you're making a difference. There is no way you'll ever know how deleting yourself from the grand scheme of things will effect and affect other people--there's always someone who will miss you, who will feel the loss and the pain if you're gone.

I hope you'll believe me. And if you don't? If you're at the moment you can't take it any more? Seriously, call 9-1-1. Help is always available.

Dark side of the moon

I think that 0500 blogging is going to be my new norm. Most of the world is quiet and I'm fighting to stay awake. Clearly all of you must suffer because of that.

Fa-nter is officially here in Missoula. We had some snow, it melted but stayed cold and gloomy. I anticipate I won't see the sun again until..oh..wait. I'm going to Utah on Sunday. I suppose I can't whine about the weather when I'll keep going South for as long as I can over the next few weeks.

Speaking of Utah, it turns out the guy I'm dating, let's call him 'Mike', has some parents. Who knew?! And since we're progressing in this process he's proposed* that I meet them. I managed to eek out an 'ok' before I fell to the floor in the midst of a panic attack.

Ok, it's possible I'm overstating.

But really, is there a more uncomfortable phase of wooing than parental meetings? I know it's not always that way nor, truly, do I expect that this time will be bad. It's just such a delicate time and, often, I'm not linguistically delicate. It makes me worry that something I say or somehow I tease Mike will be misconstrued. I suppose, however, that one must trust the judgement of their significant other, especially in this matter. After all, the SO is the product of those parents and I like him!

That meeting, for the curious, will be taking place the week of Thanksgiving. Which is a week I also work my 'long' set of shifts (4 12-hour shifts from 7pm to 7am). I know I'm not going to get much sleep but I'm sure it will be worth it.

And there it is. The occasional relationship update that may eventually lead to a change in the blog name. Tragic, I know.

*ha ha! Gotcha!

Karma, and I don't mean my mother or grandmother.

Besides, their names are spelled 'Carma'.

I have a confession. I'm on the border of the land of 'sappy happy' and I have every intention of continuing on my current route. The only problem is that I've mocked the residents thereof for years, and I do mean YEARS, and I'm not sure I'm enjoying the karmic lesson.

I told that to the guy I'm dating. His reply? "I love you. Deal with it."

I'm totally entranced by his confidence in this matter. I know it's not human to be perfectly confident in all areas, of course, but in this thing he's so sure! I don't know if I've mentioned his profession but he's a programmer. I keep joking with him that this isn't love, I'm simply aligning w/ the parameters of his 'relationship' program and not throwing too many error messages. He rolls his eyes and says, "It's so clear you work in HR."

Contingency Planning

I'm dating someone. There. I said it out loud. And, here's the thing, he's gainfully employed, smart, taller and older than me. He enjoys ridiculous things like "Politically Correct Bedtime Stories" and really bad joke about frogs stapled to chickens. All of those things are great, it's true, and to top it all off he's also Mormon.

Perfect? Nope. Close enough to be making a case for ...you know...whatever? Um, yeah!

Yes, he knows that. Yes, he's aware that I discuss most everything in public.

But he's not the focus of this blog. You just have to know about him to understand my dilemma--what if this actually worked?!

You see, when I'm in relationships with a clear, major flaw I am able to function. I understand how to 'overcome' in relationship and how to work when they end, right? That's not new territory. I have friends, support and the knowledge that the world will always keep moving. So not a scary prospect. Annoying, painful and lots of other things--but not scary.

Now, the alternative?! That's scary. How does that even work? And, when you're talking about two decisive, employed, seasoned, smart people, can it really be so simple and just doing it*? Aren't there some glaring complications other than "who will win the war of the superior couch?"




*I heard it, sicko. I mean the 'm' word or making a decision, something like that. Good grief I have really twisted friends.

3am

...and the world goes to sleep. It's actually shocking to me how this time is consistent. We'll be having an evening full of frivolity and then *wham* 3am and it get eerily quiet.

Because of this I am quite tempted to tell each of you that you must form a schedule of times you'll be on call to entertain me so that I don't fall asleep in my chair. Alas, I love you all too much.

One more shift this week and then I'll be off to visit Utah for a few days. I hope I'll get to see Erin, Gwen, Rae and Rina. It should be an excellent week. I'm grasping for that as I feel myself start to snore.

Say it isn't so!

Today I got a comment from my friend Alisa who holds the record for "Duration of Friendship" and she was upset with me about my lack of blogging. I know! I was astounded too. But then I though, well, it's probably time to introduce some of the new things in my life, so, here we go:

1) I got me a job. It's true. I work, broadly defined, as a receptionist for Missoula County. I'm enjoying it. It's very odd to be back at work after a year of sitting on my tuckus and studying but it's also nice to have some outside structure. Let's hear it for gainful employment!

2) Tristin, mother of the greatest godson alive, is going to add to my godbrood! I could not be happier for her! Let's hear it for more kids!

3) I got a netbook. Finally. And a flip video camera. Eventually I'll add a small point-and-shoot so that I'll be able to bring you EVEN MORE pictures of Charlotte and the eventual godbaby. I know, dance in joy! Here's a picture of 11 inches of fun...


4) I had a...wait for it...date! Like, in person! And he drove to me! And then paid for dinner! And asked me cute questions and smiled at my dumb joke, occasionally even laughing. And the doors, well, they were opened. I nearly pulled a 'Carrie with Alexander at the Russian Ballet'* After all that, I still got these a couple of days later...


Yes, I acknowledge that blogging about a date after a single date is risky, kind of stupid and opening myself up for all kinds of ridicule. Bring it on. I'll just respond to you from my tiny keyboard of pure joy and then stop to smell my roses.



*I know, obscure Sex and the City reference. For the unwashed masses, Carrie is overwhelmed by the romance of her boyfriend when he asks to stop and dance by the fountains on their way to the ballet. She pretends to faint and then says, "You've got to dial it back. I'm a single New Yorker. I can't take all this romance." or something very like that. Then they go to McDonalds. I heart that scene.

It ain't heavy, it's just insomnia.

I feel like I'm all 'Hello, I'm Atlas. Just ignore this huge, terrible, pressing, more than you are able to bear, astounding burden. Really, it's nothing.' You know the kind, right? The people who are constantly sharing and over-sharing problems and their depressing inner thoughts?

Those people are annoying.

I can say that because I'm turning into one. It gives me street cred.


Truly, I'm not depressed. I have some pretty bright things on the horizon. It's simply difficult to remember that when you haven't slept in a couple of days. Especially if you haven't slept in a couple of days and you come across a blog about a mother who has 'lost' her baby. And then I just cry and cry. But sometimes that helps me sleep.

I think the thing about your first major brush with unexpected grief is that the scarring is so much deeper and profound than you expected. I find myself sometimes running my fingers over the bumps of my grief wondering how it healed and wondering why it still hurts.

I feel odd equating my first major grief to Alycia when both my Grandfathers and my Great-Grandfather Burns, who I loved dearly, passed on before her. But in those instances I was not nearly so involved in the process and it was natural, expected that they would pass on well before I did. As a 'child' you're shielded (rightly so, I think) from being so blatantly present. There was none of that with Aly. And it's not like I hurt every day. I embrace my memories of her life, our time together and such. I just find myself seeing grief sometimes in a totally new light, in a way that makes my bones ache in empathy. All I can do then I finger my scar, cry in solidarity and selfish relief and know that sometime I'll sleep again and then I'll be able to joke about balls.

You know they really know you when...

My conversation with my Bishop as related to RaeRae:

"Bishop, sometimes I don't ask for blessings because I know I could get answers to my prayers. So when I ask I feel like I'm saying to God, 'Can we just speed this process along, please?!"

Rae replied, "Stephanie, I'm pretty sure there is going to be a special place in heaven for your Bishops. Like, I'll be trying to walk somewhere and an angel will say to me, 'I'm sorry. This section is reserved for Bishops of Stephanie Harbour."

Finally, something to say.

There are many things going on in my mind right now that are muddled, personal and inexpressible. It's the reason I've been so quiet--when I'm like this the worst thing I can do is speak too soon. Today as I was driving, however, one emotion and thought pattern became woven into words I thought I'd share.

The central focus of this blog is my life as a single, Mormon girl. Often I find that to be a lonely endeavor but more often I find it to be a path that allows serious reflection on my self and perspectives. Last week I started attending a 'Marriage and Family' class required by my Stake for all members. I found it to be wildly frustrating, alienating and it caused some bald patches from ripping my hair out. That state of mind oddly often leads me to a calm center where I ask myself, "Why do you feel that way?" And I discovered that it was because I want people to understand that singledom has, in so many ways, very close parallels to family experiences and I allowed myself to be frustrated rather than express that, sometimes, I think of myself as, say, a parent.

Odd? I don't think so. In my circle of friends we have one we jokingly call The Baby--who, as it turns out, turns 30 today. It's far less literal than that, however, because the roles rotate.

Often when I'm feeling as though I need advice I turn, first, to my BioMom and then, if nothing there is clicking, I go to the other women I respect and want to model my life after. And they usually have the answer or can lead me to it.

Beyond that, there are times that I feel things I can only equate to parental emotions. For instance, Rae's birthday. I love her so much that today I was torn up by not being able to give her a memorable, perfect day filled with everything she wanted.

This happens also when I see my friends making decisions that will harm them or impact their lives badly. I know that I can't put myself in the path, I can't do anything to stop or arrest their decisions. I can only advise from the sidelines, shouting "This way!" or "No! Not that way! Can't you see!" and then feel dread as they step wrongly or waves of blissful relief when the right decision is made.

It may seem odd to parents who read this blog. I acknowledge that I do not have a perfect understanding of raising a person from child to adulthood, knowing all their quirks. With my chosen family, however, I understand how it feels when I am in the darkest, blackest place and they know just where to shine the light. I know that the bond I share with them is one that my family can't perfectly equate. And I also know that as we mature, we are going to become closer and closer to the only family each of us have. We're at the age where parents are beginning to have fragile health and we've even lost our first one.

In those moments of loss and confusion we have always been there for each other and will continue to be. We've seen each other through things that we don't talk to others about--that only we know and only we ever will. The bonds that I'm forging with my friends, I suppose, have the benefit of mirroring whatever I'd like them to and then being stronger than I expected. After all, I'm building them to suit me. And they do. I just hope that the bonds are always strong enough to hold as each of us venture far from each other, allowing each of us to come back to those that are holding the line, shouting directions and loving each other so deeply there is no comparison other than someone born from my own body.

My last three days...

I'm pretty sure there's an evil succubus living under my brothers driveway.

I know this because my car, and no I'm not kidding, dies every time I drive it in there lately. Luckily, my brother can usually make it go again.

I just thought I'd warn all of you.

Is it possible to have slept less?

I swear, I haven't had more than five hours of sleep since I left home. And those five hours have usually been from dawn until, like, noon. I don't know what it is about being on the East Coast temporarily that so wholly screws up my circadian rhythms but ...well, just wow.

I'm now in Denver on my way home from three weeks with my parents. I'll be home for three days and then drive back to Salt Lake City to meet Amber and be together for an important anniversary for about five days. Then I'm going to go home, dig a big hole and not emerge until the end of August holding a degree and a certification.

Well, ok. That's not totally true. I'm going to camp. And I'm going to go to New Orleans for a conference (and a Sheryl Crow concert!!) and Amber's birthday (which is July 9) and then, really, I'm totally digging in. I'm not even kidding.

I'm going to get this homebody-hermit thing right if it kills me!

Not just yet.

I am scheduled to fly back to Utah on Saturday and, from there, drive home to Montana. I just don't think I'll make it. Usually when I'm away from home (read: my dog) this long I'm dying to get back and get things back to my routine. I've become such a homebody and it's almost difficult for me to be away from my house too long. That, my friends, is unnatural. On my trip to DC in January I was so ready to be 'done' by the time I flew out that I nearly cried in relief. When I heard from Mom that she needed someone with her for this surgery I didn't jump at the chance because I thought it would be similar.

It's not. There's not an overwhelming reason for me to stay in this area. I have a huge exam in a month that must be more focused on. I have school work that needs to be done. I have bulbs I need to plant and a yard that needs some serious attention. Instead, I'm going to stay here another week.

The sun is out. The sky is blue. At home they had snow in the last 48 hours.

Call me crazy but I'll opt for art in spring instead of gardening in winter.

As a bee.

There are many things I love about Washington DC, the arts and monuments chief among them. I find the people here to be interesting, intelligent and challenging. I adore the fact that spring has sprung here when it was not even close to doing so back home. But I do not miss the way these people drive.

Now, I'm not a shrinking violet behind the wheel. Ask Alisa! I basically forced her into a nonexistent parking spot near her favorite bakery using only my will. Or any of my friends who have spent years adjusting to the g-forces caused by the marriage of my foot to my accelerator. Driving in DC, however, seems to be more than haste, more than impatience. Everything here is based on being busy and important. So when a light turns green and you, say, take time to send the signal along your neurons to your foot to respond then the driver behind you is already laying on the horn declaring, "I'M BUSY AND IMPORTANT! MOVE IT!"

This behavior is, frankly, hilarious. It's wildly amusing for me as an outsider to return here and see how fast people drive, how they cut off even two cars just to get to their destination because 'busy' and 'important' are everything. A guy this morning kept speeding past me in his Mercedes. He was doing about 55 mph on surface streets and in residential zones. And he was sitting right in front of me at all four of the red lights we hit on the way to our destination. He hasn't learned that the Universe will not implode if you just pause for a second and consider that you're not Atlas. I felt like sharing that gem with him but I just smiled. And then I silently said a prayer of thanks for Montana and chased it with a prayer that the pace there always remains just about the same.

Ode to my brother

I'm pretty sure that if he was left alone w/ the baby too long Beth would come home to this.

Hello, Friends!

Thursday of this week I started a journey that won't be over for a total of very nearly three weeks. Generally I don't mind travel but when I'm on the road for too many hours along my brain inevitably turns to friends and then to people I've lost touch with. Am I the only one that catalogs those? I kind of run over the people in my life in the last, say, 10 years and wonder where the friendships fell off and I wonder how to rekindle them. Often there's not much I can do about the situation from distance or lack of contact information. Well, before Facebook anyway. But even with social networking sites the attempt to reconnect rings hollow and typical. I suppose that with a finite number of relationships my brain and clock are capable of handling, this is a good thing. I just can't help but missing those who have gone.

On a happier note, I've been staying with Tristin, Ben & Mason in Boise for the last three nights and, I must say, it's not a bad town! It's surely one of the areas I'm thinking about when my degree is finished and people want to hire me again.

I think I mentioned that I had a stray/foster dog traveling with me for the beginning of this trip? If not, run over to stephandboo.blogspot.bom to check out that story. Maybe that post will be more interesting and less 'I ran around too long with Mason and then was too hyper to sleep'.

Miles to go

On Thursday I head to Boise to hang out with Tristin and attend a conference. From there I'm driving to Salt Lake for a day and then dashing (via plane) to DC for a couple of weeks. The trip is somewhat unexpected but not totally unwelcome. I have only one major complication and his name is Chum. He's a German Shepherd-X who came to me as a rescue. And, not surprisingly, I love him. He's been bounced around lots in his life and I need to find him a forever home. Before I leave. On Thursday.

People who need a dog, please call me!

Also, on my way home this weekend my car turned 150,000 miles! For those of you who don't know the story of my car, my Great-Grandfather bought it new in 1993. From there it was given to my Grandmother who passed it on to my Parents who sold it to me. So in 15 year, four generations of my family have owned that car. It's full of memories of all types and I love to think about my family when I drive.

Anyway, I could sit here and blog or I could go finish laundry. And find the kennel (Duke is going with me). And pack. Or I could just sit here and cry because I have way too much to do.

Fore!

Anne is a photographer I enjoy. Today she posted a photo with a link to a blog I now enjoy called Take Out Photo. There's some type of contest (though I have no idea about specifics) this month involving foreground and photos. When I think of foreground I often think of a photo I took while snuggling Mason before Tristin snatched my godson away from me with the whole "I'm his Mother. He has to relocate with me." logic. I see holes there but I gave in.

Hope you enjoy the photo!

"We could attack the Mayor with hummus."

Sometimes I do things that make no sense at all. For instance, today while I was studying I decided to stay in bed all day and watch re-runs of Buffy the Vampire Slayer while trying to learn more about Davis-Bacon wages.

Good lord, someone find me a life. Even a discount one!

Today

10am: Create art with children, transport children to people on the other end of the spectrum, play along to their singing and gesticulations, transport to parents

1pm: Shop for ice cream and toppings and such

3pm: Linner with friends

5pm: Set up Single Adults Activity

5:30pm: Socialize with sugar and toppings and such

7pm: Watch Stake production of Jesus' life. Attempt not to mock more loudly than the two seat barrier.

9pm: Do away with any vestiges of spiritual growth at a house party

12am: Crawl into bed thinking "Why do I even socialize? This is too much!" glowing from the day.

There are lots of jokes about sheep in Montana.

But we're nowhere near this...

Trips. But without acid.

I'm dying to get out of Dodge this month. I have a trip planned for April--Boise, under the guise of something educational but really to see Tristin and my Godson--but I haven't left the state in March. And it's time.

I was talking to myself over the last couple of days and I've decided that I need to see Alaska. I keep wanting to live there for no sane reason and I think it's time to debunk my desire. I'm planning on doing this by driving from Missoula to Anchorage (because Prudhoe Bay is just too damn far and I'll hit the Arctic Circle in Norway later in life) and back.

Now all I need is someone to split gas costs with.

Takers? Come now, you know you wanna!

In defense of my couch...

Ok. That's unrelated. But it was a funny conversational snippet. Kind of like, "Someone stab my frog!"

Did you know that when you're single, sometimes you can take the *entire* day to clean your house? Really. That's what I'm doing today. I'm listening to The Office and Buffy the Vampire Slayer while hanging out my windows to get the perfect spring sheen.

Later, I may get really, really crazy and scrub down the shower.

Can you hear my internal 'yippee?'

Oh, hi there! It's me again.

I'm so sorry for the long absences. I keep going deeper inside myself the closer I get to this huge testing date in May. Which testing date?

Oh. That's right. I never blog anymore.

I'm taking the SPHR certification in May. It's a big deal because if I manage to finish that and my B.S. degree in August, I'll be just about done with school.

When I say 'just about' I mean, "Done if I don't decide to do law school."

Anyway, I'm boring right now! I wake up, put on 'new' pajama pants, study, eat some, study, play with the cat or dog, study, eat and then go back to sleep. Sometimes I get really crazy and I watch Hulu or play with my niece. It's quite boring!

Except for the part where a guy friend of mine did move in for a bit. Just a couple of months. And so my closet is all restricted. Oh, the stories I could tell about merging households --even temporarily. Suffice it to say, BUY A NEW PLACE TOGETHER! DO NOT ATTEMPT TO MERGE!

Other things I managed to do while I was gone include Mardi Gras, plan a Single Adult activity for Missoula and possibly adopt a dog.

Maybe I'm not so boring after all.

But until I decide that for real, here are some photos to hold you over.

A Tradition is Born

I can't begin to describe how in love with Mardi Gras I am. The first day we were here we went to the inaugural parade of Ocean City, Mississippi. My camera was nearly dead but I managed to grab this shot of a door wreath...

We got some fantastic beads which started our quest to double our bead count at every parade. I will tell you, after Mobile yesterday we are going to have to get BUSY at the next parade.

Yesterday we went to Bellingrath Gardens and had a fantastic time before heading into Mobile, AL for oysters and parade fun. Here are a couple of highlight photos with descriptions to follow.

If Michael Jackson can dub himself the 'King of Pop'...

Then I'm perfectly content dubbing myself "Queen of the Idiots." I have to say I'm really quite content with my life. I enjoy my apartment. I love my family being near me and I'm fearing that addictive force may keep me in Montana far past my planned stay here--we'll see. But when all is going so well I just have to throw in a little spice to keep myself off kilter. This particular spice always comes in a 'man' flavor. It's really quite amusing how predictable I am.

My favorite saying, or one of them, is "If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always got."

And yet...

See? Go get ready for my coronation.

Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart.

Darling Apartment,

I can't believe it's been a year! I love that our anniversary gives me an additional reason to celebrate February 14th. Today I carefully swept and mopped your floors after repainting the cabinets. I could feel that you were happy with the facelift. At your request, I'll wait until you're fully healed to post pictures. I know it's gushy to write to you publicly like this and you'll probably be upset at me but I don't care! I must shout my love for you from the rooftops! I couldn't be happier to have a partner like you in my life. You're amazingly comforting, you're warm and you look dang good in red!

Just know, my love, that my heart is yours. I don't even *look* at others since I met you. I know we're not promised forever but I hope we can take every beautiful day at a time, appreciating the time we've been given.

With all my heart and most of my income,

Stephanie

Sing a happy song! January is O.V.E.R!

I'm sorry for the absence. I was busy you see. I was channeling my inner-Tina-Fey and telling January to "Suck it!" Turns out yesterday, it finally gave in!

The trial didn't go the way of Alycia's family. And, in case he has Google Alerts on his name, Dr. Brent Lee of Fair Oaks Anesthesia Associates was found 'not guilty' in the wrongful death of my friend. Dr. Lee, you know what? I will always think that you were the axle in the wheel of incompetence that killed my friend. I would wish bad things on you, I would. And often do, actually. But I won't put them in writing. I just want you to know that it's obvious to any thinking person that you were just trying to avoid getting your ass sued for any rash action. The nurses there that night told me so. Your body language told me so. There's fault all around, yes. We both know it. A guy who says his passion is 'war surgery' should be far more daring. You screwed up. You were afraid. And because of that, you killed my friend. I hope you always remember. And, if nothing else, I hope it changed you in some small way.

And that's all I have to say about that.

February is going to be spent finishing up my semester and adjusting to a few changes. But my taxes are done! And my semester soon will be! So, overall, not a bad start to the year. And by 'start' I mean February 1. Because January really should be abolished.

Signs of stress eating.

I just thought to myself, "We seriously only keep five pounds of margarine in this house? That seems irresponsible. Now where are the rest of those crackers?"

Really? Another airplane?

Don't get me wrong--I usually love to get out of here. I just seems like I've been getting on a plane EVERY FIVE MINUETS for the last seven thousand years.

I'm going to attempt to keep up my blogging while I'm in DC but it's not a wildly happy occasion for being in that beautiful city, so I might not.

I will, however, still be totally enthralled by my new project a music review blog. So visit there. :)

Start the video at about 1:15

Watch carefully for about 20 seconds for an update on my 'sugar' progress in 2009.

Et al, hello!

I'm just sure someone is going to comment and point out that my new shoes are a 'luxury item' as prohibited by my resolutions. So I say unto you, I purchased them at 11:45pm on DECEMBER 31 because I knew full well I was going to make that resolution.

I wanted to blog today because I also have a resolution about blogging. Sadly, this is the only thing I could come up with. In further lameness, tomorrow I'm going to post my Christmas late-er (I could call it a 'letter' but then you wouldn't realize that I just sent out my 1995 Christmas cards last June) so I can keep my resolution without doing one whit of extra work!

Good work, everyone.

I just wanted to take a moment and thank all the eels that died for my new shoes.

You did fantastic work and I couldn't be prouder to take you to church on Sunday.

2009: The Year of the Abstaining

I have decided that this year is going to be all about denial of self-indulgence. How very Puritanical of me.

It's time. It's not that I don't love sugar, spending and...um...lots of other 's' words but it's time to invoke another 's'. Self control.

I know. I'm probably setting myself up for failure. But I don't really mind.

1 year without sugar. 1 year without spending on luxury items. 1 year to straighten up and fly right. Just to see if I can form the habit.

Here goes, almost literally, nothing!