So Blogger wasn't letting me log in for a couple of days there, and I had lots to say. Now that I can log in again, I have little to nothing to say. Go figure.

So how are you guys? Anything new and exciting in your lives? I'm chugging along as usual, I guess. In love with Taylor. We wrote a song together last night that I actually quite enjoy.

And I figure that even though the whole thing was a mistake and I should have listened to what other people were telling me, at least I got two new songs out of it, so it wasn't a complete loss, right? I still don't quite get it, though. The last thing I want to do right now is invest in someone else like that. I need time to process all of it and get back to liking me. How does one bounce from person to person with only a matter of days in between? When does the mourning happen? What happens if you never mourn?

Well, I did it. I have a new baby girl. Her name is Taylor. She's a 314, which is the lowest end Taylor you can get with their professional grade electronics already installed. She's so pretty. And she sounds so sweet. She plays so nice. And maybe the best part is that I got her at cost, just about. I'm not proud of the store that I purchased her at; I know a lot of people would lambast me for even setting foot in there. But I went thinking I could get a good deal on some new strings or whatever, what with it being Memorial Day and all (thank you to all of our proud service men and women who have fought to keep our nation great). And I was looking around and thought to myself, "It wouldn't hurt to pop into the acoustic room and play a couple, would it?" So I did. And two sales guys and about an hour/hour and a half later, I walked out with Taylor, her case, eight sets of strings, a humidifier, a pretty blue bass guitar who has yet to be named and a gig bag for about $300 less than the price tag on Taylor read when she was hanging on the wall. How could I pass that up? Two lovely new instruments plus accessories for less than what the one was originally supposed to cost. I had to do it.

And I'm so glad that I did. Taylor is so pretty. And she plays so nice. And as my mother put it, this is what I do for a living now, so I'm investing in a new tool, a new future for my musical career. I can't wait to take her to a show!

Wow, sudden rash of popularity in Europe! Hello, Croatia, Ukraine, and Czech Republic! Welcome to the madness.

So I've decided what I want for my birthday this year. I know, I know, you've all been waiting with bated breath to see what my crazy demand would be for this year. I'm sorry to keep you all waiting for so long, but I wanted to make sure that the thing that I request is something I will really truly want in the long term, not just some trendy whim. And while "Luke from Gilmore Girls" is always a nice gift, I'm sure Scott Patterson's real life family would like to hold onto him for a while. Same goes for "Dean" (a.k.a. Jared Padelecki).

So here goes. Ready? For real? No, seriously, are you sitting down? Because it's really quick and you could miss it if you're not ready. Ready? Okay.

All I want for my birthday this year is the ability to put my hair in a ponytail.

I know, that's going to be kind of hard for you to deliver. That's okay. But it's what I really want. Because if these last couple of days of nice warm, but not-nice-humid, weather are any sort of indication, I'm looking forward to a long summer of really bad hair days unless I can put my hair in a ponytail. And I don't mean "looking forward to" in the "hooray, that's going to happen" kind of way, but more in the anticipatory sense of the word. It's almost there now, just a little longer. And we still have a little bit of time. Maybe with lots of positive hair-growing energy from all of you and the proper nutrition (or maybe I should start taking those pre-natal vitamins again), I have faith that it is possible that I could have a respectable ponytail by my birthday.

Either that, or I'd just like Derek Lee to come back soon. They showed a shot of him in the dugout today and I realized just how much I miss watching him play.

Man, thank goodness I'm done re-watching the first season of the Gilmore Girls. It makes me chatty.

I wrote a bass line for one of my songs. It actually sounds pretty good. The song itself is so pop it almost makes me sick, but you can hear the bass line and I'm kind of proud that I wrote a bass line. Sadly, though, I don't have a bass guitar so the bass line was recorded using my guitar. It's a little odd to have the bass line be more of a tenor kind of a thing, but I wrote and played a bass line in one of my songs and it works. It'll sound better when I can get a bass guitar to play it on.

Monday. I think Monday will be "Instrument Shopping Day." I will first remember all the brave men and women who fought to keep our nation great and then I will celebrate by spending obscene amounts of money on musical instruments. Sounds like a good plan, don't you think?

You know what I honestly expected to see more of in Vegas that I didn't see at all? Drunk guys peeing in random places. I didn't see one. Nor did I see anyone vomit. Or anyone's vomit after the fact. I'm kind of impressed that I saw neither, as they are fairly regular sights here in Chicago, but I'm also a little disappointed. It means the city of hedonism is cleaner than my home.

Weird.

Tonight was the first time in a LONG time that I felt okay being alone. I know, I know, you're all wondering what's up. The girl who prides herself on her independence always feels okay being alone, right? Wrong. When said girl finds someone who she actually wants to date, she starts to change her thinking around to include said person. She starts trying to be part of something, part of a relationship, part of a couple. And when the other half of said couple is not around, she starts to get self-conscious about the fact that she is surrounded by other couples, but somehow her other half couldn't be there. And then when it all ends, well, that residual feeling of "my other half is missing" sticks around for a while. She feels exposed to the world. Vulnerable, but not in the good way.

But tonight, I was meeting my friend at a bar, and I got there first and I was okay with being the woman who saddles up to the bar, orders a drink and some food and has a night out at the bar. Even if my friend hadn't shown up, I would have watched the Cubs game (so disappointed in them for losing in the bottom of the ninth, but that's the Cubbies' M.O., right?), had my food and drink, and gone home and I would have been okay with that. Fortunately, my friend did show up and we had a really excellent evening. Nothing spectacular happened; we just hung out. But it was a really good night. Great conversation. Beer. Fries. Jukebox. Wordster. I'm so simple in my tastes, it's really sad, but it was a really great evening.

So I have to give a quick shout out to my best guy friend. I love it that we can have a random spectacular Tuesday evening at the bar, text messaging my best girl friend in Texas. And I'm realizing that I have a best guy friend, and a best girl friend, and a best cat friend, so what difference does it make if I have an "other half" or not? From where I'm sitting, I look pretty blessed as it is.

It's good to be back.

...and back.

So the getting to Vegas and getting back from Vegas parts were not fun, but the rest of it...well, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. I will say this, though: if I was famous, the tabloids would have loved me this weekend. For about a day until all the rumors and speculation and whatnot (especially the whatnot) were proven to be false. But anyway. Back in Chicago. Where it is approximately sixty degrees colder than it was in Vegas.

Does anyone actually call it Las Vegas anymore, or has the Las been dropped?

Well, I'm off for a weekend of debauchery, most of which I won't be able to tell you about later. Because as we all know, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

Have a good weekend everybody!

Kerry Wood is pitching today. Kerry Wood is pitching today. Kerry Wood is pitching today. Kerry Wood is pitching today. Kerry Wood is pitching today. Kerry Wood is pitching today. Kerry Wood is pitching today. Kerry Wood is pitching today.

I know, I know, everybody is waiting for Prior to come back. I like Kerry Wood. He's a great offensive pitcher, too. Not to mention the fact that for a team that has their three best guys on the DL (Prior, Wood, and Lee), it has to be a nice boost to get at least one of them back, right?

So I'm excited that Kerry Wood is pitching today. Yay!

Hi.

So I have a lot to say but I don't know how much of it I want to post in here. So let's talk about the fact that the Cubs won today, making their record for the month of May three and twelve. It's a start right?

The thing is, the hurt doesn't just automatically go away one day. Yes, you feel better one day, but it's not necessarily just gone. And why the hell is it there in such force in the first place? It's not like this was anything permanent or committed or whatever. But then you go out and you're surrounded by couples and you watch season finales that mess with your head and the hurt comes back. That little voice in the back of your head that is only drowned out by the other voice in the back of your head that's yelling at you for being despondent and self-indulgent and overly dramatic and so frickin' girly you honestly wish you could hand in your breasts if it meant you could think rationally for ten minutes.

I'm sorry. I'm being despondent and self-indulgent and overly dramatic and so frickin' girly I'm making myself ill. So I'm just going to keep downloading the new songs Moby posted on his MySpace site and I'm going to go watch South Park and I'm going to be happy about the fact that the Cubs won today. It's a start, right?

One of the big reasons why I'm looking forward to my trip to Vegas this weekend is that it will be warmer there.

I went to my friend's wedding last night. I'm friends with both the bride and the groom, so it was doubly special. And wow...so beautiful. I love all of the traditions involved in a Jewish wedding. And I got to sing "Fly Me To the Moon" for them at the reception which was lovely, even though I screwed up the lyrics. Everyone was pretty drunk, so I don't think they noticed, but when they go back and watch the wedding video, they'll be able to laugh heartily at it.

So thank you to my beautiful, wonderful friends for letting me be a part of your special day. I'm so glad I was there. And thank you for having a vegan meal option. Tee hee.

Happy Mother's Day to the hardest working group of people in the world: moms.

I have a particularly good one. I know I've probably mentioned this before, but she really is amazing. Intelligent, artistic, supportive, loving, beautiful...the list goes on. She is one of my dearest friends and I am thankful every day that she is in my life.

I love you, Mom. Happy Mother's Day.

I smell like sausage. My cat is fascinated by me this evening...

I like spontenayonaise on my sandwich.

You know, when I find something really amazing, I like to hold onto it. I like to experience it as much as I can and learn from it and about it and stuff. I try really hard to not shit on it, because it's really amazing and my life is richer with this really amazing element added in.

Am I crazy? Do other people feel the same way about amazing stuff, or am I the only one? Or are a lot of other people so overcome by the fear of amazing things that they have to shit on the amazing things and run away from them?

I don't get it.

A very dear friend of mine became an uncle for the first time today. Congratulations to his family on their newest member! And welcome to the world, Robert!

I got to see a friend of mine tonight who I haven't seen since he moved very far away and I have to say, it made my night to be able to hug him. He teased me once about seeking out a relationship that would automatically preclude the other party from actually caring about me and I was okay with that because in it's own way, that's a very attractive relationship. I know he meant it to be a sad slight though. That's okay.

It was really nice to see my friend tonight. I've missed him. Though please remind me to not go with him for burritos afterwards again. Not a good idea. Though it sounds like it at the time, I should know I'm going to pay for it later...

I love it that the big oil companies are so pinched for cash that they have to charge over three dollars a gallon for gas here in the States (more than that elsewhere in the world), yet they can afford a nice, new, electronic sign at the gas station to show us all how much the price is continuing to go up, without having to send an employee out to the sign to change the numbers.

Hi, Iran! Welcome to the party. Good timing.

Enough with the being sad. I'm going to learn how to play bass guitar.

(Not bad for my 1700th post in here, huh?)

Okay, I have a suggestion for the fashion industry: why not change the sizing on all women's clothing so it is closer to the sizing on men's clothing? You want us all to be shaped like men, so why not size our clothes that way?

Let me explain. Men's clothing sizes are based on the actual size of the man. When buying trousers, the first measurement is his waist size, the second his inseam. When buying shirts, the first measurement is the girth of his neck, the second the length of his sleeve. And so on and so forth. In women's clothing, you are given a number. A flat out number that is odd if you're buying from the junior's section, or even if you're buying in the women's section. And you know what? They adjusted all of those numbers a few years ago. For example, I'm sure you've all heard that Marilyn Monroe was a size 8. Well, back then, her size 8 was comparable to our size 14. They made all of the numbers smaller to make us all feel thinner. You know what? We're not thinner. On average, we're not. So how about this? Change women's sizes to correspond to their measurements. Yes, all of the size zeros out there would suddenly become 22s, but come on? How many women out there have never tried on a pair of men's jeans? You know what your measurements are anyway. And, this would allow the fashion industry to develop, oh, I don't know, jeans that fit actual women? They could have waist, hip, and length measurements, increasing in one inch increments, just like men's jeans. So those women without hips as well as those of us with enough junk in the trunk to earn the honorary last name of Jenkins could easily find a pair of jeans at the store within minutes of walking in the door. And we're all time-conscious, right? The faster we find a good, comfortable pair of jeans, the more we're likely to buy, right?

And shirts, too. I know a lot of women who are plenty curvy, but have tiny waists, and as a result, they have to buy medium or large shirts to accomodate the bust that then fail to show off the tiny waist. How about gradations of sizes there, too?

And worst of all, dresses. How many of you out there can wear a medium on top, but have to get a triple extra large on the bottom? I know I'm not the only one. I know this for a fact. Or again, the particularly large busted women who have no hips -- you buy a dress that fits in the bust and it has no shape from the waist down. How about a little wiggle room in women's clothing?

I just think it's kind of funny that the ones who aren't supposed to like shopping and buying clothes are the ones who have to remember the most detailed sizing information when they go out. I know a lot of women who buy men's clothing anyway, for one reason or another. Or maybe it's because I'm really really really wishing I was in Europe, because European clothing sizes deal with the actual size (in inches or centimeters) of the clothing. That's how I was able to find my Holland pants so easily. I don't care that the number on the label is really big. They fit like a glove.

Just a thought.

And thanks for the silly pictures of sheep and other random things. I love you guys.

Happy Cinco de Mayo, everybody. Go listen to the Liz Phair song of the same name to celebrate.

So for the last few days...let's just say they've not been particularly good for me. I love you for your concern, but I really don't want to talk about it. It's really strange, but my jaw doesn't want to open wide enough for me to force out sound. It's not a physical ailment; purely psychological. I've not had this before, where I feel like I really don't have a voice. I know in the metaphorical sense I have a voice -- I have this journal and I have my music and my art and whatnot. I feel like I physically don't have a voice anymore. It's really strange.

But I can still sing. Go figure.

But what it all comes down to is I just need to get out of my own head. Honestly, if I could take a vacation from my brain, that would be lovely. Thinking about baseball isn't helping because the Cubs aren't looking so hot right now. I don't know if it's a good thing or not, but I'm involved in another show now, once again doing tech for it. On the up side, it forces me to go out and interact with other people. On the down side, I really wanted a break. So that's not a good distraction either.

Does anyone have a particularly amusing anecdote to share? Or a dirty limerick? Something cerebral to get me out of my own thoughts? (I saw cerebral to reassure you all that I'm not going to resort to chemical options, if you know what I mean.) A funny picture of a sheep? Anyone? Bueller?

Ow.

Happy birthday to my brother!

I think in honor of today, he (and anyone else who wants to celebrate his birthday) should go to Baskin Robbins and get a taste of all thirty-one flavors.

I'm just sayin'.

Happy birthday! I love you.

Have you ever had one of those days where the sound of your own voice is the most horrific thing in the universe? Yeah, for those of us who like to call ourselves "singers," that's what is known as a "bad day."

But thanks to everyone who came out and heard me sing last night anyway. I hope it was better for you than it was for me.

Rabbit, rabbit.

Here's hoping...