Exhouncy

So I can't decide if I'm exhausted or bouncy. I declare myself to be exhouncy! I shouldn't be exhausted. I feel asleep at freaking 10:30 last night. I did work out like mad. Seriously. I have got to learn to pace myself more. Though if I hadn't been so tired, I might have gotten in a fight with obnoxious woman who WOULD NOT GET OFF THE MACHINE that I wanted to use. I mean, come on. If you can do like 10 sets on one machine, you clearly are not lifting enough. And it's just rude when 9 people are hovering for that same machine. When she got up, I expected a mad scuffle. I graciously got on one of the other machines that I like, abandoned by a man who was going for the other.

I also shouldn't be bouncy. I woke up with a mad headache and then spend the morning looking at possible apartments only to realize that moving is going to be REALLY expensive. Sigh. But while I enjoy my neighborhood muchly and while my rent is reasonable and does not go up because I have a cat, the commute for school would be hell, no matter which school I choose. So onto Craigslist I shall go. The thing that I don't like is that Craigslist seems to be more current. As in if I wanted an apartment in the next three weeks, I could apply. I'd like to have things settled before hand. And if I could be by a metro... Sigh... that would be a dream come true.

Though, if I were by a metro, I wouldn't get the sights I do at the Pentagon. For example. For the past two days, there has been a woman standing by the metro, holding a "welcome, all Congressional Staffers" sign. I have never seen someone look less happy to be out there, holding a sign and welcoming staffers. She stands there with a frowny pathetic face, reminiscent of Eeyore, "welcoming" Hill staff.

Mystery solved!

I have found out where my missing socks go!!! Apparently, this guy is stealing them. I don't know why this is so funny to me. Maybe the mental picture of police following a trail of socks. Maybe it's the mental picture of the thief trying to worm his way through a basement window, socks in hand. Whatever. It makes me giggle.

What did not make me giggle was waking up to loud crashing this morning. Cassie, in her oh-so-fluffy cuteness, decided that what she wanted to do at 6 in the morning was kill my plants. I had these cute little pots with these newly burgeoning plants. Did she eat them? No. I could handle her eating them. Eating them would be less messy and at least my poor little plants would be dying for a cause, rather than just being wasted. But no. She just wanted to knock them off the table, getting dirt all over the floor and leaving the poor little seedlings continued existence a bit precarious. And waking me up and making me clean up soil at 6 in the morning. She got yelled at. Maybe she learned her lesson. She seemed a bit sheepish when I actually got up for good this morning. Or maybe I'll come home to find them once again on the floor. I'd move them, but it's the only place that gets sun...

Hidden Insults

My boss just walked by and told me that she "liked me so much better with short hair." I'm not impressed. We'll just see what she says if I dye it all funky.

So, yeah, I'm totally stressed out. This whole thing with SB (still in limbo) is driving me nuts. I might just resolve it all by killing him. Not really, because then I'd be really sad AND in jail, but some shaking might occur. Or beating with a pillow. Also, I'm still trying to decide on which school. It's between two, my first choice, and my second. Now, you could say that I should automatically go with my first choice. But should I? I picked it as my first primarily on gut reaction. Now I have to put thought into it. I've talked to current students there. My second choice students have not gotten back to me. Which is a negative in their column. I'd have to move for second choice. But second choice is bigger, has more options for classes, and a better career guidance organization. First choice is smaller, which means fewer options but also more personal attention. It would be a different experience after a big school for undergrad. It is a bigger name school, which would look good on my resume. It doesn't have much career guidance. Costs are comparable. It's all just confusing. I feel like Rory Gilmore with her lists...

Which, speaking of... I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY ARE ENDING THE SHOW!!! And only two weeks before the last episode?! I needed time to say goodbye. Two weeks is not enough goodbye time. The Gilmore Girls is now a part of my life. There shall be a hole in my life which cannot be filled by any sitcom. I may just give up on non-documentary tv...

Dissertation on Love

I had a lovely chat with Emily last night. We, not surprisingly, wound up talking about relationship stuff (there was much awwing on my part. New relationships are just so cute!). I realized this morning, some of what I said might have been a bit bitter. Which is also not entirely surprising, considering the morass SB and I are still in the middle of. But it's not really what I think or feel.

We were talking about being in new relationships and how some personality types, such as me, can put entirely too much pressure on it. I remember a few days/weeks into SB's and my relationship trying to analyze if what I felt was what I should be feeling, if it all meant anything, if he was "the one." I mean, I hardly knew him. We hadn't spent hardly any time together, not really, and I was already trying to figure out if we should get married? Was I crazy?! (The answer to that was and is undoubtedly yes.) But the problem is, society and tv abound with examples of people falling madly in love immediately and knowing someone is the person they are supposed to be with within a few weeks. I'm not saying that there aren't examples of this happening, that I don't know people who have this happen. But I don't think I'm the personality type to let it. (Neither is CW, who, as she puts it, is "not sappy.") I'm too analytical, always examining everything that is happening to try and decide what it means. It's hard for me to just let go and be in the moment. But I think having doubts can be a good thing, too. It makes you examine things. It's like having doubts about your faith; questioning can point out the flaws, but in doing so, it makes faith stronger. I wonder if people who never doubt their relationship, especially in the beginning, examine it, or if they wind up later having doubts because they fell in so quickly.

The bitterness aspect comes in in that when we were talking about doubts, I said that I thought everyone has them (which I still maintain is true, at least at some point in the relationship). Emily responded that she knew x, y, and z who fell head over heels and were insanely happy together. I said I didn't think I was that type of person. And I don't know that I am. And that's what sounds bitter, but I don't think it is, not really. I think it's just a different type of love. Or maybe it's the same kind, but I'm afraid of letting myself feel what I feel, so I hide it from myself. Which is a distinct possibility. I remember reading something somewhere about people who, rather than feel everything as deeply as they actually do, try to suppress it to avoid being completely overwhelmed all the time. Of course, I can't remember where I read it, even what type of media, but oh well. I liked it, nonetheless. Either way, I don't think either way is better, just being completely sure is easier at the outset.

A Birthday wrap-up

First of all, I would like to thank everyone for their birthday wishes. I had voicemails from 9:06 on, plus emails and facebook comments and whatnot. It was lovely. As for my birthday itself, it was pretty good. Not the most stellar birthday ever, primarily because of how many things are up in the air, but pretty good. I got a lovely necklace from my parents, plus a drawing of my elementary school and some kind of fun class from my mom. I need to find out about the pricing on the fun class, although first I need to finish my weaving. My brother and s.i.l. got me a craft magazine subscription and a "Reasons to Cancel Your Subscription: the Worst of NPR Programming" cd, which I'm sure shall be quite entertaining. SB got me some rather nice earrings and matching hair clips... I also bought myself some yarn and earrings. Plus my parents flew up here for my birthday. I haven't driven that much in one weekend in a while... We went out to Luray Caverns and up to Annapolis and out to Manassas twice to get and return my dad to his plane. I went through a whole tank of gas and bumped my car up into the 18000 mile range. Yes, I know. I don't drive that much.

After seeing an article in the Post about sexual harassment of female bloggers, I'm starting to be happy that I'm not that popular. Which actually tied into a dream where no one liked me and in fact, everyone was mad at me and I was just hovering in the background. I've had very strange dreams recently, in part, I think, because of the heat in my apartment. See, they haven't yet turned on the air in my building and my apartment for some strange reason retains heat like none other. Therefore, my apartment has been miserably hot for the past week or two. Like 80-85 degrees at night. It's insane. But yes. So I shall take the lack of readers here as a good thing.

Me, A to Z

Because Jordan Baker tagged me and because all the allergy drugs/lack of sleep due to said allergies and the fact that my apartment is 10324890 degrees have temporarily broken my mind... I'll do a meme.

A- Available or Single? Um. Complicated. At this juncture, I would say no to both. Unless it's on one of those government forms, where single means not married.

B- Best Friend: Cassie. Or Whitney or Amy or SB.

C- Cake or Pie: Is it sweet? Because if it is, I'm all in. Even more so if it's chocolate.

D- Drink of Choice: Sweet tea, if offered. Or wine or a mojito (not only is it fun to drink, it's even more fun to say.)

E- Essential Item(s): Food, water, air. And books.

F- Favorite Color: Purple. For now. Changes frequently.

G- Gummi Bears or Worms? Worms

H- Hometown: Smalltown, TN

I- Indulgence: ice cream

J- January or February: Yeah, I don't get this question. Do I discriminate against February because it's shorter, or allow that Valentine's Day could balance it all out? And is having Valentine's Day such a great thing? But January isn't exactly a great month either. You're all worn out from the holidays, it's dark outside, there's not much to look forward to for a while... We'll call it a wash.

K- Kids: Eventually. What can I say, I'm a breeder...

L- Life is incomplete without: chocolate. Have I mentioned that I'm really into sweets? Because I totally am. And air, because without air, you quickly die.

M- Marriage Date: Hmph.

N- Number of Siblings: 1 and an in-law, who's rather short but whom I like, so we'll call it 1.8.

O- Oranges or Apples? Who could choose?

P- Phobias/Fears: Ghosts, failure, not death, but dying... losing loved ones

Q- Favorite Quote: I, sadly enough, don't have one. Feel free to leave yours in the comments.

R- Reasons to smile: Friends, baby animals, annoying people tripping in public

S- Season: Fall

T- Tag Three: I REFUSE!!! (Mainly because I can't think of three, but still...) Do it if you want to. And are bored.

U- Unknown Fact About Me: When I was little, I used to make up songs every day on my way home from school. They were awful. They might have been amazing, except that I also had the bad habit of falling down the stairs...

V – Vegetarian or Oppressor of Animals? Who says I can't be both? You can oppress animals in more ways than eating them...

W- Worst Habit(s): Procrastination, overthinking, laziness, comfort eating

X – X-rays or Ultrasounds? This is just dumb. I'm going to go with Xylophones.

Y- Your Favorite Foods. chocolate, sweets, pasta, asparagus, broccoli (see, I'm not ENTIRELY unhealthy...)

Z- Zodiac: Taurus.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

So, yes, I chopped off my hair. I mean, to the point I can't put any of it up. It's a slanted bob, somewhat similar to the one Sarah Jessica Parker had. But a little shorter. I like it now, but I think I'll really like it when it's a bit longer. AND she totally agrees with Whitney on giving me funky red highlights. Which will be lovely, particularly if I get someone else to go see her, because then she said she'd do them for free. :-) I was a little insulted, as she said that cutting my hair took 10 years off of me. I'm not saying that longer hair didn't make me look older and more serious. But I feel I'm still young enough to not be too worried about looking older. In fact, for a while, I really wanted to look older.

Speaking of older, I am rapidly approaching my 24 birthday. Mere days away, in fact. I wish I were more excited. I blame a. getting older, b. all the crap that has gone on in my life lately, and c. I can't really think of any presents I desperately want. Oh well. My parents are flying up, fun shall be had, and cake shall be eaten.

Toygers and other dreams

In honor of all the many people who get here thanks to my archived picture of a liger (prized for their skills in magic), I am posting a picture of a toyger. Yes, a toyger. These are cats that are being bred to look more and more like tigers, but they won't eat you. They might try (as Cassie proves by gnawing on my arm to wake me up in the morning), but they will have cat-sized jaws and claws. It's a little strange. But hey. Whatever you want to spend your time doing is fine with me.

My mind apparently decided last night that my top-choice school, on which I've given up since I REALLY doubt I'm getting funding and therefore can't afford it, was secretly Hogwarts. And Teddy Hall at Oxford, all in one. And a girl with whom I was friends in high school but haven't seen since opted to go somewhere else so that I could have her funding and her room. Rather nice of her, I thought. It would have been glorious and made me a bit sad. Then I decided to go on Facebook and see if I could find this old friend and, in the process, noticed how many people from my year are now married. That depresses me, mainly because I feel it is somewhat of a sign that they didn't ever really leave my hometown. Which if they are happy, who am I to judge? It's just not the life I would every choose...

Shifting Sand

That's it. I'm moving to Mauritania.

I have other, non-funny thoughts running around my head right now. How can I not? I mean, I looked at going to Virginia Tech for grad school. Besides, everyone who has been to college, particularly college in a college town, remembers what it was like. Remembers feeling like the campus was its own little island. Things on the island might hurt you. You might get sick from drinking or date raped by another student. But nothing like this. The worst things that should happen to you in the classroom are boredom and doing badly on a test or essay.

This all has made me think about some things. 1. The press. For the love of all that is good, leave these poor students alone. I see them on the Today Show, and all of them that I've seen who were actually on campus have this dazed, shocked look about them. The various hosts try to get them to talk about their experiences, their dead friends, their feelings about returning to class and how they're going to recover from this. And I want to scream with frustration. I understand that everyone wants information and wants to understand what is going on and how this could happen. But these kids don't need this from us. They had a girl on today who was a freshman at Columbine when that happened, one of the people in the cafeteria who luckily managed to escape. (This poor, poor girl) And that is what she said. She said that everyone needs to be able to get together, to support each other, to work through what they are going through. Without the press. Without having people ask them for interviews, without having lots of questions asked. And the whole naming the one student as the "hero" of the whole thing. Listen, I think what he did was great. God only knows what I would do in the same situation. But first of all, he was acting to save his own life. Yes, he saved lots of other lives by doing so. And what does that say about all the other people? I mean, there were other people who acted calmly and figured out how to protect themselves and others. What about the guy who blocked the door with his foot, and then, later, ran around doing first aide on the people whom he could help? I'm sure there are others. And what does calling this one guy a hero mean for all the other people, the people who didn't act as quickly?

2. What a strange world the millenials have grown up in. I mentioned Columbine, now this, September 11. I wonder if any of us can really feel safe anywhere. Not that we all think something is going to happen all the time. But I know I personally am not surprised when it does. Shocked, yes, saddened, yes. But surprised? I feel as though I am constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. For someone to attack the metro, for a plane to crash with me on it. For the earth to flood or a hurricane to blow away California. There are places that I think should be safe. But when I hear proof that they aren't, a part of me just sighs. I think I'll be more surprised if I die without anything tragic happening to me, like of old age or something.

Ant and Grasshopper

I feel like everything in my life is up in the air right now. I'm okay with it... For a little while. The whole thing with SB has really forced me to realize that no matter what happens, I need to make sure that I have a life and support system outside of him here. Which I've known for a while, but it just has been easier to not put myself out there, not try to claw my way into groups. So I went out with CW and her friends on Saturday. One of whom I liked muchly and is going to send me information on her choir, which she says is made up of fun people in their 20's and 30's. I also may have had my first random guy drink-buying experience, as I think a Rastafarian may have bought me a mojito. Then yesterday, I drug myself out in the rain to a meet-up book club.

As for what it actually going on with SB, it's still all confused. We're together, but he's still thinking and everything is rather fragile. I bought a book that he's been assigned to read; he's started it, and thinks it's helping. Also helping is me being sickeningly sappy. It's not sickening to me, though I think it might be a bit much for him. Not that he doesn't love it, because he totally does, but because he doesn't trust that it's real. I'm also going to have to really work on some annoying, frustrating habits. I just hope that he realizes soon that a lot of what he's feeling is frustration and hurt, feelings that can be very much overcome. Or at least that's what I think he's feeling... My prediction, though, is that if we survive this, it won't be incredibly long until we get engaged. Not like weeks or anything, but months. I, of course, can't tell him that because it puts pressure on him. And the whole no pressure thing is KILLING me. Last week, I felt like it was going to start hurting me. But no. The real problem is that I can't keep my mouth shut. You real-life people know that. If I have an opinion, then I feel the great need to say it. I also hate treading water. I see the problems, I think I know what to do, I'm ready to plunge in. Chomping at the bit and whatnot. But that's not SB. That's not him at all. He's cautious and wary and slow-moving. I bounce around, quickly changing direction, and he plods on, working and trying to figure out the best way. So I have to step back, shut up, and let him know how I feel without pushing him to decide things. Yeah, I might need to go buy some ducktape or something to help...

Questions

I was reading online about the whole Imus thing. Looking through the comment on Al Roker's blog in particular made me feel a bit sad. You could tell which of the commenters were white or black for the most part, and I wish our country wasn't that polarized. And I can't say that I'm free from that. Several of the comments pointed out that racism against white people by black people is not commented on, and I agree with that. I'm not saying that white people have to deal with racism on a constant basis or at as high a level as many black people. I know that's not true. That, however, does not mean that a black person has the right to make derogatory comments based on my race either. I think our society feels that white people can't call black people on their racism because of our history. And I think that harms everyone. We should be able to have an open dialogue about race. I wish we could free ourselves from the fear and distaste of people who are different than ourselves.

Other comments also called Al a hypocrite for not talking about the black community's use of many offensive terms. That bothers me, too. Not that Al didn't mention it; I mean, after all, it's only one small blog and he was only dealing with one issue. But why is it okay for a public persona to call a woman a 'ho'? Why are we okay with allowing over half of the public to be derided and treated with disrespect on a regular basis? Why did making a public smear about someone's sexual activity get to be a commonly accepted insult? I'm not saying this is a new phenomenon, but shouldn't we at least try to change it? What does it say about our society, our culture? What impact does it have on the identities of women everywhere to hear other women constantly being defined by sex?

A Light and Faith

I think we are going to be okay. I know, that seems a 180 turn from yesterday, and it really is, but I think it's true. I mean, I felt horrible yesterday. It was just awful. I kept thinking about whether we're supposed to be together and trying to pray about it, but all I got was pain and confusion. I even thought about not going to the Maundy Thursday service, because I figured I'd have a hard time not crying through the whole thing. But I figured it was better to distract myself, so I went. And I did almost cry during the warm-up for the choir. But then the strangest thing happened. (Warning: God stuff ahead) We went into the sanctuary and all of a sudden, I was so full of peace and calm. I prayed, and got a strong answer (YES) and a bit of a reprimand. After the service, I skipped the rest of our rehearsal and went to see SB. We cuddled and talked and he feels better about things now. He still wants time to think things through, and I understand that.

Because, see, the reprimand was about how I've been acting. I've not been a very good girlfriend for a while. I don't feel entirely guilty about this; I was going through a lot of stuff, growing pains, having a shitty job, trying to balance myself. I had to focus on me for a while. It's been a long while, but... SB took the brunt of this. I was willing to admit my responsibility for our problems, but not willing to take any action to help. The whole weight of fixing everything fell on him. And that's not good. Or fair. He dealt with everything, my mood swings, my irrationality. It was really hard on him. But now I'm through that. I'm not saying that I'm all grown up now. But I am infinitely better than I was. And I'm strong enough again to stand up and be a partner in all of this. This has been a whole wake-up call that I need to put on my big girl panties and own up to my responsibility. He still has to think about things, because it's been a long time since I've been able to do that. He has to take a risk in trusting that I actually can. I think he will. The thought that he won't makes me nervous, but I have faith.

Update

Okay, he just emailed me and things are looking less bleak...

A Sad Haiku

My heart is breaking.
He needs to think about
Us. I'm dying inside.

SB told me last night that he thinks we should break up. And not for any reason that I can be mad at or hate him for. But because he thinks I deserve better and that we might be on different paths. I asked him to give us one more chance, that I should be the one to make that decision. He said that he needs to think about it over the weekend and we'll talk on Sunday. I didn't sleep last night, I'm constantly close to tears, and I'm trying to figure out what I can do and what I did wrong. And I'm cursing my naivety years ago when I thought having a broken heart couldn't possibly be worse than being constantly alone. I don't really want to talk about it any more right now, but if we do officially break up on Sunday, I can almost guarantee this blog will not be updated much for a while.

Living with (and without) Fear

SB and I watched Stranger Than Fiction last night. It was such a good movie. I can't quite state why I liked it so much, besides that it was funny and dealt with literature. It did encapsulate something I think most book lovers feel, which is that the characters in the books we read are real. Not that we think they are, but characters in a good book have to come alive for you. Otherwise, why do you keep reading?

The movie also made me feel like I should immediately quit my job and just do what I want to for a while. Travel, really. That's what I'd do. Go horseback riding in Greece, drink wine in a villa in Italy, participate in a tea ceremony in Japan, see the Pyramids and the Great Wall of China and Masada... Experience things beyond what I currently know, stretch my mind. After all, I'm going to be going into debt anyways... Why not start a few months early? I know deep down that I'm entirely too practical to do such a thing, but I think that is part of the appeal. It would be so scary for me, but being scared is a good thing. Stretches you and makes you stronger.

Which reminds me. I'm totally making "Stand" by Rascal Flatts my theme song for a while.

Online networking

I've decided that I'm not very good at the social networking site thing. I don't go on them that often, I don' t think they're that interesting, and I don't friend every person I vaguely recognize. I could, but then I think, "I haven't seen this person since 6th grade. Why do I want to go through the trouble of friending them?" Not that I turn them down if they friend me, though some of them I wonder about. I mean, if we weren't ever friends, then why are you friending me but to increase your numbers? Don't tell me that you actually care about what is going on in my life... Unless I'm judging because I don't really care about what's going on in their lives. Maybe I mean more to them than they do to me. But really. It's all about the numbers.

But then I go on and feel bad because I have fewer friends listed than others. I see people on my friends' friend list that I know and I wonder why they didn't friend me, and who friended whom. I know I read entirely too much into it all, and think entirely too much about it. I feel left out of a system that I don't really like that well. I mean, I get excited when I see people I'd been wondering about. I figure it's a good chance to catch up with them. (That happened today. She better friend me back. I want to know what's going on, and how life has been since she got married.) But if I was close to you, I hope that I have your real contact information and can email or call or at least im. It's not like you can really get your friendship back through myspace or facebook. Or maybe some people can. I, however, don't seem to be one of them. So, people, if you really want to get back in touch with me, you're going to have to email me. Otherwise, we'll just occasionally look at each other's pictures (except I don't post any) and move on in our own separate lives.

Food stuff

I was reading an article in Newsweek where a woman talked about losing weight by eating only 1200 calories and walking a mile a day. I don't understand these types of people. First of all, it's hard for me to be impressed by her walking a mile a day on a treadmill. I mean, really. A whole big mile? I know some people don't get out much, and I, living in a city and using public transit, am forced to walk more than most. But still.

Then there is the whole 1200 calories thing. How do people survive on that? I know it's near the bottom range of what the body typically needs. But think about it. One piece of pizza has about 300 calories at least. If you have three pieces of pizza and a soda? That's it. You're done eating for the day. Don't these people enjoy food at all? I mean, I understand the needing to lose weight and to be healthy and whatnot. But, still. There's being healthy and there's torturing yourself. How are they not hungry all the time? I mean, you can only eat so much lettuce...

Also, I am so freaking excited. I just found out that there's a Jimmie John's here. WHEE!!!

Death and Taxes

Well, you are getting this rare Sunday update courtesy of the coffee store near me with free wireless and my need to do taxes. Sadly, I didn't bring all the sheets I need to actually file my taxes, so the plan is to go home, get the sheets, and take them to work so I can spend the five minutes necessary to wrap up. Luckily, while I may owe the state taxes (I don't really understand this, as I have one less deduction than I should be able to take), I'm getting a decent amount back from the federal government.

In the life of Emily, something good finally happened. I think it's all due to my haiku dedicated to her. What can I say? My writing inspires good things in the lives of friends. More people should read my blog! You're (but not really you, because you obviously are reading this) missing out on a chance to improve your life by spending mere minutes a day reading this lovely website.

I am mad at my diet, mainly because I lost no weight this week and I did really well this week. I'm just claiming that I gained like 6 pounds of muscle, so I've really lost like 10 pounds (since as we alll know, muscle weighs more than fat and to stay the same while gaining six pounds of muscle, I'd have to lose more fat). I'm claiming this, although I know it's not entirely true, though my legs are getting crazy strong. I have to work on incentives, though. It's kind of a problem when I'm used to food as a reward, and am completely broke. I'm thinking of using my tax return for stuff, but really. What is reward enough to keep me motivated? I'm just not sure... If you have any ideas, let me know.

I'm also now last in my tournament pool. Sigh. Stupid Butler. They were freaking ahead by like 10 just a few minutes before the end of the half. And then they just pooped out. Oh well. At least, as my dad keeps pointing out, I have no money riding on it. And CW's boyfriend is no longer in first. I don't know why I don't want him to win, except that I don't like his bracket name. Oh well. UNC better win today, though, or I have absolutely no chance of not being last. Let's go, Tarheels!

A Haiku

In honor of friend
Emily, who is so cute,
I poked someone on the knee.

Not really, but I will next time I see SB. Other people won't get it.

It was lovely to chat with Emily the other night. It was interesting timing, because that very day, I'd again come to the sad realization that some of my friends from high school are putting a much greater effort to stay in touch with each other than they ever have with me. Some of that, I'm sure, is because I fled from Tennessee just as fast as possible when I graduated from high school. Not from them. I still stayed in touch, I was just six hours away. Otherwise, I mean, I can come up with other reasons. But I don't feel like it. I don't feel like feeling bad about it, either, and I'm not going to. But yes. So chatting with Emily was a nice pick-me-up.

In other news... well, I don't really have any. I had all these ideas over the week about stuff to blog about, but then I didn't have time at work, no internet at home, and now the ideas have all fled. I did learn that apparently Cassie has similar traits to her sister, Callie (neither of us knew the other cat's name when we named them). For example, they both get scared very easily and hiss or growl. SB is using this as a reason to make himself feel better, as Cassie hisses or growls at him frequently, and me rarely. :-) He thinks it's a sign that she doesn't like him. I think it's a sign that she doesn't trust him as much, because he thinks she likes things like being picked up and whirled. I wonder if the two cats remember each other?

Singing Alone on the Train

I was getting on the metro yesterday when something strange happened. For the most part, there is an accepted code of conduct on the metro. Locals sit there, trying not to catch anyone's eye, spacing out and avoiding human contact, unless they know someone on the train with them. In that case, chatting quietly is permissible. Teens frequently chat loudly, rather than quietly, but that's teens for you. Tourists try not to fall over, try to figure out what stop they're at/going to, and talk loudly to the people in their group. Ones who have been to DC try to show off their knowledge.

But yesterday, there was a guy who didn't do any of these things. Instead, he got on, singing along to his music. This was enough to catch my attention. Then he started air drumming and I started wondering if I should move to a less crazy section of the train, particularly as he beat out a fast rhythm on the metal bar. I didn't; instead, I put in my earphones and watched out of the corner of my eye. And by the time he got off, I was a little jealous. Not of air drumming. I have no desire to air drum. But his complete lack of caring. He could care less what we thought of him. He just was happy to be there, happy to be himself. And that has an appeal to me. Maybe in a few years, you'll find me riding around, doing whatever I feel like, singing along to my music.