I got my car back yesterday! Hooray! And I got sunburnt in the process! Not so hooray! Meh, it's not that bad. Shoulders, chest, and back (a little). I was out walking wearing a tank top, so I have some pretty interesting "tan" lines on my upper body. If you can call them "tan" lines when some of your skin is fish-belly white and some of it is lobster red. I'm just all about aquatic life today.

I do want to say another quick thank you for the support I've gotten through this. I didn't take it all very well, and my mom, my grandma, and my friends were great. So thanks, guys.

Okay, now some random.

I was audience to probably the most brilliant conversation ever last night. It was about the word "overneath" and whether or not it's a real word and if it is a real word, what on earth would it mean. Yes, it's an oxymoronic compound word, but the way these guys were talking last night, they came up with six or seven perfectly legitimate definitions for it, some with visual aids. I'm not even going to try to recreate the conversation here, except to quote my one friend, "So the lettuce is not overneath the bun, the bun is overneath the lettuce." I'm pretty sure I pissed off every dog in a three mile radius I was laughing so hard. And man, did I need that.

Side note: for those of you who have not heard me laugh really hard, I squeak. I've been compared to hamsters, dolphins, guinea pigs, the air being let out of a balloon, all kinds of things. It's a very unique laugh and, according to the guy at the table next to us last night, "contagious." Someday I'll go on Letterman or something and he'll make me laugh really hard and you'll all get to hear it. It can be startling if you're not expecting it. Personally, I love it. Mostly because I really do enjoy laughing.

And if I may bring the post down a bit, I'd like to talk about infidelity for a moment. I don't understand it. Okay, let's say you're in a relationship with person A. You've been together for a long time and you love each other a lot, and then you meet person B and start fooling around with person B. Do you not love person A anymore? If you don't, why not break up before messing around with person B? The history that you've had with person A should at least merit that you try not to hurt them intentionally, yes? And trust me, it hurts a lot worse when someone leaves you for someone else than it does when someone leaves you because it just wasn't right. I've been dumped for both reasons, and being cheated on is worse.

I'm not going to speak to whether or not it's possible to love more than one person at a time. It's entirely possible, for all I know. So if you are in love with person A and person B at the same time, don't you think everybody deserves to know what's going on? To me, love includes respect and a desire to not hurt the other person, and keeping one partner in the dark neither shows respect nor keeps them from being hurt because they will find out, probably from someone else, and they'll be pissed that you didn't say anything. Now, if person A and person B are both okay with it, really okay with it, then more power to you. But I think that kind of situation requires a lot of open, honest communication. Or that you live in Utah.

So let's say you don't want to leave person A because you don't know if things will work out with person B. First of all, that's really selfish of you to play with two people like that. It's okay to shop around for a new job while you still have one, but it's not okay to shop around for another person when you have a great one. And if you're not sure things will work out with person B, then why are you messing around with them in the first place? For the newness of it? The excitement? The spark? If those things are missing from your relationship with person A to the extent you need to look elsewhere for them, then maybe you shouldn't be with person A. Or maybe you need to have a nice long conversation with person A so you can work things out as a couple. Messing around with person B does not constitute working things out.

So yeah. I don't understand infidelity. No, I'm not perfect. I have once or twice made out with someone who was involved with someone else. Never more than once with the same person, and usually initiated by the other person, not me. I've not cheated on any of my boyfriends. If I find my attractions going elsewhere, I talk to him about it and/or end the relationship before I do anything else. It's not fair to play people like that and really, it will just come back to bite you in the ass later.

Anywhen. "Overneath." Stew on that for a while and enjoy.

The thing is this. If I quit, I would be missed. I'm not saying that to be egotistical. Trust me, I have no ego at this point. But I would be missed. I don't think it's fair of me to not share my talents, you know? I went and played at the sammich shop yesterday, feeling like shit, afraid to sing too loud because really, wouldn't these people rather just eat their lunches? And one woman asked for my web address so she can come check out a show. Another boy gave me two dollars. And yet another patron said he may have an open slot at a show in June, so I gave him my card and he sent me an email about it. The show is not confirmed, but still. Even playing shitty, I got a new fan, two dollars, and a possible gig. How can I not play? How can I give it up? Granted, those people, having never heard me, would not miss me. But I brought a little something good into their lives and isn't that what it's all about anyway?

So I'm crossing my fingers that one of the jobs I applied for pans out. And I'm doing my absolute best to stay strong and believe in myself. It's not easy, you know? And I know this all sounds overly dramatic, but my self-image has just been taking beating after beating as of late and it wears on you. I'm still healthy. I still have a place to live and food to eat. I have some wonderful friends and an amazing family. By most counts, I'm way ahead of the game. I have to remember that. And I have to remember that talents like mine are meant to be shared. The absolute worst thing I could do is ignore them or keep them to myself.

Still. If you wouldn't mind keeping your fingers crossed for me on the job front, I'd appreciate it. Thanks!

So yesterday was nothing short of hellish for me. In the physical sense, I'm fine. Nobody died or was hurt or anything, so I guess maybe the word hellish is a little strong. But it was a pretty awful day. I went out to my car to go to work and the driver's side door kind of fell off. Not all the way off like in that junker car commercial, but enough so that it was then not closeable. I knew it was having some problems, but it went from a little stiff to an inch or so misaligned within two days. And I knew that my passenger door was shot, but really, who needs a passenger door? I don't drive people places. So I called roadside assistance through my insurance and they sent a tow truck who took me out to a dealership who told me I needed to go to a body shop who told me that the cost of the repairs might be more than the value of the car and as it turns out, they were probably right. But I can't afford to take on a car payment right now. I just can't. Not with the four dollars a day I'm making at my current job. I was doing some calculations the other day and I'm really not making any money at my current job. Enough to eek out a living. And with the problems I'm having finding a drummer, the supplemental income is pathetic at best. So I really can't afford to take on a car payment right now; my only real choice is to fix my current car. Which they were right, will cost me approximately an arm and a leg. Their original estimate was for an arm, a leg, and four fingers off of the other hand, but I talked them down from the fingers to just an arm and a leg. See, essentially, the hinges on my door were frozen. Yet another reason to be bitter about the extended cold spell we've been having in Chicago. And because of regular wear on frozen hinges, there is nothing about my doors that is salvageable. Or, if we did try to salvage them, they'd crap out again in a month or so. So my two-door car needs two new doors. Fifty percent of the exterior of my car needs to be replaced. Which, if you think about it, an arm and a leg is probably a fair price for half of the exterior of a car. But in talking them down from the four fingers, she may not look so pretty when they're done with her. The paint may not match exactly and some of the existing damage to the fenders may not be banged out completely. So even after paying an arm and a leg to get my car fixed, I may end up driving around in something ghetto-tastic. Hooray.

I do want to take a minute to say, though, that this whole thing has shown me that I have some really amazing people in my life. My mom is going to help me through this financially, and I can't even tell you how much that eased the blow. Yes, I'm still going to pay her back, but to know that I can pay my mom back instead of sinking into the black hole that is credit card debt is a huge load off of my mind. And my grandmother is letting me borrow her car for a couple of days until mine is fixed, which is also a huge help, especially since I need to have a show costumed by Monday. And my best friend let me call about a million times yesterday just to vent and freak out, and I'm so grateful to her for that. So through all of this, if I have nothing else, I do have an amazing support system, so thank you guys for that. You have no idea what that means to me. Thank you.

But still, it's frustrating. I was just starting to feel like I have my head above water again and bam! Gone. I'm now looking at another couple of years of debt. A couple more years of no fun, random vacations. A couple more years of scrimping so that I can just eek out a living. I'm so tired of that. So tired. And honestly, it makes me feel like a failure. I know I have all of these skills, both artistic and practical, and you'd think that as smart as I am, I'd be able to put something together that made me happy (or at least didn't depress me) and allowed me to live with some level of comfort and adventure. But it's just not happening. I need a different job, is what I need, and it is most likely going to be something that I hate, but that pays me more money. It will probably be something that I have to drive to. It will probably be something for which I have to wear pantyhose on occasion. It will probably be something that will prevent me from playing at the sammich shop anymore. At least not on Fridays. And it will probably be something that will make me hate my station in life again. But if my other option is to do something that makes me marginally happy but doesn't allow me the opportunity to buy musical equipment or get headshots reproduced or pay for studio time, then is it really worth it? I hate that money has become so important to me.

So I got drunk last night. I did everything I had to do yesterday, on time, and with pinache. And then I came home and drank the bottle of wine that I got for Christmas. And I watched three movies that have me in them. I really am good. I'm a very talented actor and a very talented musician and a very smart person and a very kind person and a very funny person and a very loved person and I feel like a total failure because the cost of car repairs is going to set me back another two years.

If you know of anyone who is hiring, please let me know. I've already sent out over a dozen resumes, so keep your fingers crossed that one of them comes through, too. At this point, I'll do just about anything.

Today, I have to wish a very happy birthday to my brother. I know I say this every year, but he really is a cool person and I really do wish I got to hang out with him more. We're both busy, though, and it seems silly, but the city/suburb divide is a lot wider than people want to think it is.

But happy birthday to my brother. I love you and hope you have a wonderful day.

Rabbit, rabbit!

Happy May, everybody. I can hardly believe it's May. Mostly because it really hasn't gotten warm in Chicago until about this week. And seeing as it is a new month and I'm tired of this sort of funk I've been in, I'm going to talk about the funk and what I'm doing to make myself feel better for a bit.

I think part of the funk comes from the fact that I have, essentially, been cold since October. And while I do enjoy the comfort of a big sweatshirt, seven months of wearing a minimum of four layers at any given time tends to make one feel decidedly not sexy. I don't think anyone has seen my waistline in months. I need it to get warm so I can wear cute outfits and feel like a girl. Feel attractive. It's been nicer this week and I've been wearing cuter clothes and it really is helping. I'm not going overboard, but I'm looking a little more girly in a very Kitty way.

I took a trip to my favorite vegetable store this weekend, too, and walked out with a huge grocery bag of fruit and veggies, a lot of it organic, for fifteen dollars. So my fridge is stocked with good, healthy food. I'm trying to be more conscious of what I eat and how much of it I eat at any given time. In general, I eat pretty healthy, but I think I eat too much. So I'm trying to just be conscious of that. I tried keeping a food diary for a few days, but that made my whole life about food and I don't want that. I just want to be able to stop eating chips after a serving or two instead of after the whole bag, you know? So I'm feeling good about that. Bringing back big salads and eating more whole grains and lentils and stuff again. Fresh tomatoes. Actually cooking food. It makes a difference when you take the time to prepare a meal for yourself. Like a little present that's good for your body and spirit.

I'm also exercising more. Trying to walk and/or ride my exercise bike daily. I walked to work this morning. I even did some light weight lifting last night because while I do have pretty good shoulders, I'd like to have kickass shoulders.

And I finally told off the last guy who really hurt me. He tried to apologize for it some time ago, but it was weak. I just kind of let that go, but then I realized that for my own sake, I needed to tell him why the way he treated me was so wrong. So I did. In an email. I'm not sure if it sunk in or not, but at least I got to say it, you know? So maybe I can let it go now.

I'm still looking for a drummer, yes. But I also applied to host an open mic once every other week. That could be fun. I haven't written anything for my book in a couple of days, but I do have that going, too. And I've been listening to really good music again, plotting a trip on undetermined dates to see a show. And today I might try to get a new dress to wear to a wedding I have to go to this weekend. I have one I could wear, though it might be a little tart-ish. If I could find something else that's not too expensive, that would be fun.

So yeah, I'm eating better and exercising more. Trying to look cute. Trying to make sure I still get to be creative even if I don't have a drummer. I'll let you know how it all works out.

I hope you all are doing well and enjoying nice, springtime/summertime weather.

So I'm hatching a plan to take a mini-vacation, maybe only about 24 hours to go see someone who won't be expecting me and probably won't even know that I'm there. Sounds stalker-ish, huh? It's not. I'd go to see a concert by a musician who keeps not coming to Chicago, but who I would really like to see play live. I'm not sure when I'll go -- it will depend on the musician's show schedule. But even just thinking about going is really exciting to me. Something fun and random to look forward to, you know? Am I crazy? Probably. But who wouldn't want to jump on a plane, see a show, and come back home? It's kind of romantic when you think about it. And let's be honest -- good music is worth it.

I'll keep you posted.

Men should not wear skinny jeans. Unless maybe you're Ewan McGregor in Trainspotting, but even then, they weren't all that. But in general, I know skinny jeans are the thing now, but men should not be allowed to wear them. It's just not pretty.

I'm tired.

I'm sorry, but I need to bitch for a minute.

I'm tired. Just tired. I'm tired of working every day of every week for months on end. It wouldn't be so bad if more of it was stuff that I love to do, but I'm finding less and less time to do the things that I love so I can do things that will pay my rent. It's frustrating. I'm tired of not having a drummer and constantly being on the lookout for one. I'm tired of costumes. I'm tired of the Cubs not winning (though yesterday was certainly a step in the right direction). And I'm tired of something new going wrong every day. I find out today that the website address I've had on MySpace for who knows how long now, years?, was reassigned without my knowledge to the personal account of a woman living in New Hampshire. I sent an email to customer service and am waiting to hear back. I'm afraid they are going to tell me that there's nothing they can do about it, in which case, I have to change all kinds of promotional materials. If it wasn't such a useful tool, I'd delete my account and tell them to go piss up a tree if they respond like that. They better be able to fix it. They better fix it now. I know MissKitty is a popular screen name, but for me, it's actually my name. People have called me that since I was a kid. Not to mention the fact that I laid claim to the name years ago. I got there first, therefore, it's mine.

Fuck. Sorry. I'm tired. And I'm getting sick. And I have to babysit this meeting happening in my office today that I really don't want to have to babysit.

I need a vacation.

And I have to talk baseball for a minute.

What the hell?

We're hitting home runs. Lee and Ramirez have amongst the highest batting averages in the league. We're scoring small ball runs, too. We've gotten some really excellent starts out of our pitchers and even our bullpen has been doing a decent job most of the time. We've made some really great defensive plays. On paper, we're a great team. So why are the Cubs last in their division? Why aren't we winning games? It's not because the fans aren't cheering loud enough. It's not due to injuries (yet). There's just something that's not happening and for the life of me, I don't know what it is and it's starting to drive me crazy. I keep thinking that it's only April, that we have the whole rest of the season to get it together. But it's hard to watch them lose every day, especially coming after a season like last year, especially when we brought in all of this new blood and new energy. Hell, even our rookies are doing well. Why aren't we winning?

If you've got any insight, I'd be glad to hear it. Otherwise, I'm going to go adopt a goat and make a deal with the management.

I had my second Moby dream in about a week and a half last night. This one was decidedly less dirty than the first one, but in a way, it creeped me out more. We were in some sort of class together, I sat behind him, and just through off-hand comments I was making and whatnot, we got to talking and I could see him falling in love with me. It took a while before I kind of got comfortable with that and then we were just talking like we had been friends for a long time, and the more we talked, the less he looked like Moby. I kept having to remind myself that that's who I was talking to because he was becoming less and less attractive to me.

Which kind of makes me wonder, when put in conjunction with recent events, am I turned off by people who love me too much? I do have my close circle of friends (the big three as I like to refer to them in my head), and if I think about it, I'm pretty sure there was a time when I was a little freaked out by how close we were and I pushed them away for a little while, but then got over myself and now we're great friends. And I know my family loves me. But when it comes to a potential partner, am I really ready to let someone in like that? Or am I just reading too much into a dream I had about a conversation in chemistry class with a rock star?

I dunno. Something to think about.

Go see Hot Fuzz. That's really all I can say about that. Go see it. You won't regret the time or the money. It's just...yeah. Go see it.

So yesterday I got to "phone in" to a radio talk show in New York to talk about body image issues. Trying to put some positive vibes out there, you know, because I think the idea that women should look like pre-pubescent boys is ridiculous. Anyway. If you want to take a listen (and perhaps learn more about me that I might be comfortable with you knowing, but oh well), it will air on WBZB 98.5 in New York on Saturday, April 21 at midnight. Which would technically be Sunday morning, I guess, but whatever. If you don't happen to live in New York, you can listen online here. I believe. I did a Google search for the station and I think that's it. So anyway, take a listen and then maybe go tell all of the women in your life that they are beautiful. Because they are.

So I'm going to be on the radio in New York today. Sadly, I can't remember the call numbers of the station, or I'd tell you all to tune in. I'll keep you posted on where you can perhaps hear it after the fact. But anyway, I'm going to be on air talking about women's body image issues. We all know I've had issues pretty much my whole life and I'm tired of them, so I thought maybe it was time to put some positive energy into the universe on this topic. I know logically that all of my issues are in my head, but I've been struggling with them a lot again lately, especially as I'm getting older and I'm trying to sell myself to an industry that still thinks I need to look like a lollipop to be worth anything.

I want very much to be a positive voice for women's body issues. To scream from the mountain tops that women are supposed to have breasts and hips. To lambast the fashion industry for telling us all otherwise, and for not making clothes that fit real women. To force feed models and teenagers until the need for clothing in a size 0 disappears. To let young girls know that whatever they look like, however much they weigh, however bad their skin gets during puberty, no matter what the boys say, no matter what the other girls say, that they are beautiful and that they have the potential to do anything. I want my best friend's baby girl to grow up loving herself and being proud of what she looks like as well as who she is.

So I'm going on the radio today to talk about some of the absolutely ludicrous things that go through my head when I look in the mirror. I don't have a cure yet for a negative body image problem, but I'm working on it. And maybe if I can show other people how ridiculous it's gotten, they can work on it, too. I hope. Women are beautiful, damn it. Every single one of us.

I get to go to my first Cubs game of the season today and I'm so excited. I'm going with another big time, long time fan, so it should be a lot of fun. And we actually got a decent day for a game, too. I'm just worried that since they won 12-4 yesterday, that they'll be runned-out for today. They do that sometimes -- the day after a blow out win, they can't put a run together to save their lives. Here's hoping today doesn't go like that. I do get to see Maddux pitch, though. Not for the Cubs -- he's the opposition today. But it'll be nice to see number 31 back on the mound (even if he is in the wrong uniform).

Couple quick birthday shout outs -- Fucknut's was a couple of days ago. Happy happy. And my clown friend's birthday is today. Happy happy.

And I know that it seems kind of trite to talk about baseball and birthdays when 32 people were shot and killed in Virgina yesterday, but it's one of those things I can't really fathom. You see the video on the news where you can hear the gunfire, but it looks like a movie. You hear the people talk about it, the one woman in the classroom who laid on the floor and pretended she was dead so the gunman wouldn't shoot her and...how do you wrap your head around that? She was so nonchalant in her interview, too, like it was a perfectly normal thing to do, to lie on the ground and pretend you're dead until it's all over. I want to know how all of those people are doing today. I want them all to know that I'm thinking about them. I want the families of the victims to know that they are in my heart. And probably just like everyone else in the country, I'm hoping they find some kind of note or journal or something that can try to explain why he went on this rampage. Why he targeted that class. Why he targeted that dorm. Why he felt that mass murder was his only option.

We do everything we can to make schools safe places of learning, but sometimes, there's just nothing you can do. It makes me sad that the students there will be afraid to go to their classes for the rest of their careers there. It makes me sad that so many didn't get to graduate because of one man's pain. And the faculty that was killed won't get to share their knowledge with eager young minds anymore. And none of them get to hang out with their friends and families. Because of one man. What was so horribly wrong in your life that this was the best choice?

Sorry. That's why I was talking baseball and birthdays today.

My heart goes out to all of the students at Virginia Tech and their families.

So in an effort to make my house feel cleaner to me, I started going through my filing cabinet to sort and weed things out. In the process, I found a lot of things that I have written, mostly in college. Conversations that could be plays, or the start of plays. Stories that could be compiled into a book. Essays that are just plain funny. And it made me realize that I am a really good writer. I've been blogging for so long, just randomly putting my thoughts on the page, that I had forgotten that I have a really good imagination and I am a good writer. I think I'd also convinced myself that I'm not good at it because I don't write in the same style as the rest of the people in my theater company. My humor is more subtle. But that shouldn't stop me from writing. That shouldn't make me feel like I can't write. I actually have some ideas kicking around in my head that I think I'm going to start working on, whether they be for my current theater company or not. I need to not have that audience or stage in mind as I write. I need to just write and see what happens. Who knows? Maybe in a couple of years, in addition to having an album out, I'll have a book of short stories to publish. Hit all the major media outlets at once. Woo hoo!

So it's slushing outside. Not raining, not snowing, not sleeting, but slushing. Seriously, get your your flavor syrups, throw some on your car or on the ground, scoop it up and you have a lovely summertime treat. Except it is decidedly not summertime in Chicago. As I said, it's slushing outside today. I was supposed to go to the Cubs game, too, but it got canceled. Which is maybe a good thing, considering the fact that it is slushing outside. And it has given me many opportunities to learn that "canceled" only has one "l."

Cubs home opener and it's snowing.

I love Chicago.

It's always a learning experience, you know? If you can learn something from it, then it wasn't for naught. So what did I learn?

I want to be challenged.
I want to feel it in my toes.
I want to be pushed to be more than I am.
There are people out there who even introverts want to be with all the time.
No matter how appealing it might be, if it's not 100% what I want, I'm not going to take it.

God, I sound like an uppity bitch, don't I?

On a totally unrelated note, happy Easter. As I kid, I never understood the whole Easter thing. How did Jesus go from being born to being an adult and hated and crucified in three months? And I know there's this whole thing in the Christian church about burying people three days after they died because Christ rose three days after he died. So Good Friday happened, yes? And he died around sundown on Friday night? And Sunday morning when they came to clean his body, they found the stone had been rolled away and his body was gone? That's not three days. That's a day and a half at best. Where did the three days thing come from? And the whole bunnies and eggs thing has to be another pagan tradition that Christians adopted so as to not seem too strange. We didn't really do Easter presents at my house. I think I got a new Easter dress once or twice, and we did color eggs and hide them around the house while we ate WAY too many jelly beans, but somehow, as religious as my father is/was, Easter never felt like a really big deal to me as a kid. Maybe because it was a different day every year that seemed kind of arbitrarily picked. Christmas is always the same day. The Fourth of July is always the same day. Memorial Day, Labor Day, and Easter fluxuate from year to year, which to me, made them feel like lesser holidays.

But I'll give you a big smooshy kiss if you can spot all eight-seven reasons in this one entry alone why I'm going to hell.

There is very little in this world that can't be solved with chocolate pudding.

So Houston was exactly what I needed. Thank you so much to my friends down there for sharing their house and their lives with me for a couple of days. I love you guys and miss you already. And if you could clone your dog for me, that would be great.

Seriously, if I could have a dog like that, I'd be a total dog person. Anyway.

I know I promised you more brain droppings about my trip and they are still coming. I wrote about five pages in my paper journal about it, and I have to weed out what is too sappy to put up here and what is okay. But in the meantime, I want to say that I kind of rediscovered my other favorite bald musician on the plane on the way home and I love rediscovering your favorite musicians like that. Remembering the first time you saw them live. Hearing all of the tunes again with new ears. Getting excited about what tunes are yet to come. Watching videos and remembering what a great smile or sensibility an artist has that makes you respect them as a person, not just a musician. Yeah. If it's kosher to say, I have an artist crush on this musician, too. If he'd let me, I'd buy him a beer. But I'd make him talk to me while he drank it, so it might not be such an appealing offer. Anyway. Go check out his stuff. It really is good music and he really is a good person.

What is it they say about making new friends and keeping the old? What is it when you reacquaint yourself with old friends so they feel like new friends?

Oh, and I decided that I need more girl friends. Good girl friends. Who live close by. I love my Texas friend so much and I love our friendship -- it's unlike any other friendship I've ever had -- and it's hard to not be able to hug her more often, you know? Anyway. I need more artistic, wonderful, intelligent women in my life. Just something for me to keep in mind.

Hey.

So I'm in Houston with my wonderful best friend and her beautiful baby girl and her super fun puppy (who isn't really a puppy) and her groovy husband and I love it. I wrote more about being in Texas in my paper journal yesterday and I'll put it in here later. I had a lot to think about during my four or five hour layover in Dallas that I should share with you, but at the moment, I think I'm going to get up and go about my day. Day full of puppy and baby and girl talk. Puppies and babies and girl talk, oh my! Puppies and babies and girl talk, oh my!

Tee hee.

Happy April. And happy opening day! Go Cubbies!

I bought myself a present yesterday. A USB hub. So now I can surf the net and print things out at the same time.

It's too much happiness.

Okay, so I have to say that what I like about the Cubs this year is that the opening day roster was based on performance in spring training, not on names. Yes, Prior was a great pitcher, but he wasn't up to snuff, so they put him in Iowa. I also like it that Pinella says they're not married to their opening day roster any longer than nine days. I have this feeling that he really will let the best guys play ball, and I think that is what the Cubs have needed for a long time. Someone who will say, "Look, yes you're our highest paid player, but you're slumping and this guy is hot, so we're going to let him start a few games until you get your mojo back. And we'll help you get your mojo back, too."

I'm excited. Monday! Of course, I'll be in Houston on Monday meeting my best friend's new baby girl (yay!), but I'll record the game or something. Yes, it's been fun to see a couple of spring training games, but I'm still geeked for the actual season to start. It's our year, baby. It's our year.

Side note: if spring training is any indication, this is NOT the White Sox' year. They've got the worst record in the league. Sorry Southsiders.

But not really.

Tee hee.

Okay, y'all may just have to bear with me as I post every Wednesday about how wonderful music is and how lucky I am to get to make some really great music with some amazing, talented musicians. It's because we practice on Tuesday nights and I can't tell you how much I need, love, and look forward to those practices. I find myself wondering, "Did I really write this song? Do these guys really believe that much in the music?" And the answers to both questions seem to be yes. I wrote these songs that these guys believe in and enjoy and just turn into some really amazing music. We're developing a really cool sound that I can totally hear on the radio, even though I never in a million years thought my stuff would be on the radio, or listened to, or considered good. And I'm having so much fun with them. We're having really productive practices, covering a lot of ground and getting really solid in the songs. We're up to about five now that I'd be comfortable playing out with them (minus the drums -- it's a Spinal Tap story, I swear), and I can't wait to add more. We're going to take the music world by storm, I guarantee that.

Which brings me to why music is so wonderful in general. I never would have met these guys if not for music and they are great people. And even though we have different jobs and lives and interests and stuff, we're brought together by our mutual love of making music. We all just like to play. So once a week, we get together and practice until we're exhausted, but it's the good kind of exhausted. It's therapy. It's three hours out of my week wherein I just get to be happy and do what I love to do. I get to sing and play and laugh and goof off and just have fun. And seeing as they are my songs, I get to sing them how I want to sing them. We tweak until I'm happy. Though I have to say, most of the time, there isn't a lot of tweaking involved. The stuff my boys come up with...I'm so in love with them. But yeah, it's like a little weekly vacation. Some me time, spent doing what I love to do, making something wonderful to put into the world.

When I have children, they will grow up in a house full of music. And if they want to participate in any way, shape, or form, they will be more than welcome. But there will always be music in the house. It's one of the greatest gifts I can give them.

I really am blessed, you know? I need to remind myself of that from time to time.

Kitty, you really are blessed. Stop worrying because it's all going to be okay.

I have no idea how I got so lucky as to work with the most amazing musicians in Chicago, but I did. I seriously don't have the words to describe how much I love my band! We had practice last night (sans new drummer, due to flat tire incident -- it's kind of Spinal Tap, but every band needs a story, yes?) wherein we worked on specific songs, just screwing around with them, messing with sounds, making sure everyone knows the changes and whatnot and somehow, these guys were able to pull out of my brain just what I think the songs should sound like. I'd like to think that they come up with all of this groovy stuff and I fine tune it, but I don't know if that's being too picky or pushy of me or whatever. I think feedback is important. But seriously, if you think Insomnia, Skyrocket and Astoria Park sounded good before, you should hear them with my band. They're rockin'! I honestly don't have the words to say how much I love these guys and what they are doing with my music. And really, it can only get better with percussion. Look out, world! We're going to take the music scene by storm!

Tee hee.

Okay, more in the way of lists.

1- Green tea really is wonderful. I know I tend to tout white tea a lot, and more people should, but green tea is really nice, too. I finally broke down and bought a big box of it to bring into work so I can have green tea instead of the super sweet apple raspberry tea (or whatever it is) that my boss has at his house. Yes, I work in a home office. So what? It means I get to play with beagles daily.

2- Beagles are great.

3- I think I have a drummer. This guy auditioned last week and was awesome and we offered him a spot in the band and he called last night to accept. Yay! Now I gotta spend some quality time doing some shameless self-promotion to get us gigs. Oh, yeah. And we have to practice so we know how to play the songs.

4- Yeah, me too.

5- I'm so ready for spring. It was seventy degrees last week one day, and then it snowed the next day. Today it's 40, and tomorrow is supposed to be in the 60s (albeit rainy). But yeah, I'm so ready for spring.

6- If the people who just won the lottery are looking for something in which to invest, studio time for my band would be a great idea. I'm just sayin'.

7- I kind of wish I had a boyfriend with a motorcycle. I have several friends with motorcycles so I'll probably get to ride at least once this summer, but I do like riding on the back of motorcycles, tasteless as it may seem. I don't think I'd ever want to learn how to ride one myself, but I do like to ride them when someone else is doing the driving part.

8- There is a really big audition on Sunday that I could go to, but I probably won't get, so I'm debating even going. I know I should, just for the sake of going. On the other hand, it's a singing audition and we all know I suck at those. I guess we'll see how I feel about it on Sunday.

9- I need to clean my apartment. Like move furniture and sweep behind it kind of clean. And believe it or not, I may have some time to dedicate to that coming up soon. Yay!

10- I get to meet my Texas friend's baby in two weeks. Less than two weeks. I'm so excited!

11- I think that's most of it. At least for now. Thank you guys for coming here to read this stuff, and thank you for your never ending support. Keep your fingers crossed just a little longer; big things are on the way, I promise!

Hey.

So this one is going to be random and scattered 'cuz I've been thinking a lot lately and not posting a lot lately, so yeah. Lots of stuff. Maybe I should do a list, like Moby does. Here goes:

1 - If you get panic attacks, I'm sorry. If you don't get them, be very happy. If you do get them, my only words of advice are to do whatever your panic attack is telling you to do (as long as it is not destructive). Get out of the situation you are in that is causing the attack. Breathe. Sit and stare at nothing for twenty minutes if you can't make yourself move. Breathe. Drink water. Breathe. And remember that it will go away and you will be fine soon.

2 - It bothers me that St. Patrick's Day is all about drinking. People who are not Irish, who have no ties to Ireland, becoming drunken sots for a day while wearing kelly green outfits with silly sayings on them. I am Irish. Not 100%, but my heritage is kind of confusing, so I play up the Irish a little bit because I don't know what all of the other parts are. And for me, being Irish is about overcoming adversity. Yes, that often happens with the assistance of alcohol, but it bothers me when trixies who have spent their entire lives being handed everything they could ever want on a silver platter pretend to be Irish for a day so they have an excuse to get drunk. They don't need an excuse to get drunk. And they most likely don't know what adversity even means. I'm not saying I'm an expert on hardship, but there is more to being Irish than drinking. That's like saying the only thing to celebrate for Mexican Independence Day is tacos. Eating a taco does not make you Mexican. Drinking on St. Patrick's Day does not make you Irish.

2.5 - Side note: this year on St. Patrick's Day, I had a panic attack, so I went home, drank a Guinness, and ate a vegan shepard's pie. Now, I know that Guinness is not a vegan beer, and to all of the vegans out there reading this, I apologize. 364 days out of the year, I do everything in my power to avoid as many non-vegan things as I can. I don't wear animal products. I don't buy products made from or tested on animals. I don't eat honey. I don't eat gelatin. I don't eat things that have touched animal products. But on St. Patrick's Day, I am even more proud of the fact that I am Irish than I am of the fact that I am vegan, so I drink a Guinness. This pride does not extend to eating corned beef and cabbage, or even a shepard's pie that contains meat. It just extends to one Guinness, one day a year. I know a lot of you eat honey or will just take the cheese off a pizza or whatever, and I don't begrudge you that. Please don't begrudge me my yearly Guinness.

3 - Would you rather have a lifetime of the highest highs and lowest lows, or a lifetime spent on an even keel, more on the happy side than the sad side, but in general even?

4 - I'm ready for something big to happen. Please keep your fingers crossed for me that it happens soon.

I think that's it. I should "work." "Now."

Hey.

So my brain isn't working quite right today, so I'm going to post something that may be controversial and get me into trouble in the distant future. But it is an honest question that I have.

So there is this celebrity who has now adopted three children from third world countries. On the one hand, I think that is quite admirable. She's giving these kids a life they never would have been able to have otherwise. But on the other hand, I'm kind of wondering when she's going to stop. She just had her own biological child not too long ago, too. And while I think it's great that her family is so multi-cultural, and while I know that she has more money than most countries around the world have in their annual budgets, I'm forced to wonder how many children are too many, you know? Kids are a handful. They need a lot of time and attention. Ask any of those parents who couldn't conceive so they went to a fertility specialist and had seven babies. Kids are a lot of work, especially when they're all about the same age. You get into jealousy issues and neglect issues (whether or not the child is neglected, they can feel that way sometimes if they feel too much of the parental time is directed at the other kids). And then there's the fact that these kids are being taken from one atypical life to another atypical life. The majority of children who are adopted don't go to live in a huge Hollywood mansion where they never have to worry about money or food or anything ever again. Most adopted kids aren't watched all the time by paparazzi. Most kids, nay, most people aren't watched all the time by paparazzi. While I'm sure this celebrity is a very loving mother and she takes wonderful care of her children, adopted and biological, I'm just wondering if it's really the best situation for the kids. Yes, it's better than where they were living. But I'm thinking there has to be some happy medium between absolute poverty and the glamor of a Hollywood mom.

Of course, I could be wrong about all of it and if I am, I will apologize in person if necessary. I'm just curious.

Oh! And if I'm allowed to be childish and juvenile for just a minute, is it wrong that I'm getting a sick pleasure out of the fact that the Cubs are 7-6 in their spring training games thus far, while the Sox are 5-11?

Yes, I am that petty. But only about baseball.

So one of the top top military guys in the United States stands firmly behind the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy towards gays and thinks that gays should not be allowed to serve in the military.

Okay, first of all, I said this back when there was the whole debate about should we include women in the draft, and I think it applies here, too. If someone really wants to fight and die in the name of protecting their country, why deny them that right? Lord knows there are plenty of us who wouldn't do that; why discriminate against those who want to? And aren't we running short on troops anyway, due to the disaster that's been going on in Iraq for the last six years? How about instead of instituting a draft to get men and women who don't want to fight to go do a crappy job over there, we just let all of the people who want to go over and fight, go over and fight? Stop telling the patriotic people that they're not allowed to show their patriotism. Seems like a no brainer to me. Besides, not to be too stereotypical, but it seems to me that if there was such a thing as a "breeding ground for homosexuality," the military and prison would be the two places it would happen.

Aside: I don't believe that people "become" gay. I think most people know when they are very young, or that the circumstances of one's life lead someone to fall in love with someone of the same sex. I don't think that watching gay porn or talking to gay people or working with gay people will make you gay. It's not a disease and it's not contagious. I do think that there is a lot of closeted homosexuality in the military, often times in people who don't know how to handle their feelings, so they turn it into homophobia instead of a healthy relationship with a consenting partner. But seriously, let's say you are one of these uber-homophobic closeted homosexuals. Where are you going to feel most comfortable hiding? Surrounded by men doing really manly things like driving tanks and blowing shit up. Right?

I'm coming off really awful, aren't I? I don't mean to be. I think the general who is against gays in the military is being silly. He says he thinks homosexuality is amoral. Like invading another country and slaughtering thousands of people is moral. Dude, you need to reexamine your moral code because something is way out of whack. Last I checked (granted, I'm not a practicing Christian, but I do know something about it), Jesus told people to love one another, not blow one another to little bits. Call me crazy, but yeah. Let those who want to fight fight. And let those who want to love, love whoever they choose.

So I know that the Cubs start Cactus League play today and that there is a game on television on a channel I can watch on Monday, but on a whim, I turned my radio to WGN as I was on a lunch run, just to see if the game was on, and lo and behold, it is! I caught it in the first inning! Top of the first. And I can't tell you how wonderful it is to hear Pat and Ron chatting away. Talking about fun plays that I wish I could see. But it's like having my best friends back. I almost started crying with joy hearing baseball on the radio.

I'm really getting psycho about this, aren't I? Oh well. Everyone needs an obsession. If mine is Chicago Cubs baseball, then so be it. I'm not hurting anyone and it just makes me happy.

Chicago Cubs and Thai food. What a great afternoon.

So I realized today that February is almost over, meaning it has been just over a year since I left my job as a paralegal in order to be an artist. I went back and looked at my blog entries from February of last year, just to see where I was and whatnot. Admittedly, I still have the money worries from time to time. But right before I left my job, I was so excited and had so much potential. Within two weeks, I was panicked, lethargic, and ready to throw in the towel. Almost. And I owe it all to the guy I was dating at the time.

Maybe.

I'd like to be able to take some of the responsibility for my feelings at that time. But the change in me was drastic. Going back and reading February of last year almost made me cry. I don't remember him ever telling me I was beautiful or talented. He never saw me perform. He saw me run tech for two shows, but he never saw me perform. I don't remember him being supportive of my career or even really interested in my life. Maybe at the very beginning in an attempt to impress me, but that didn't last very long. I remember him telling me his stories, often times the same ones, over and over and over again. I remember him telling me how busy he was, but never really asking me to participate in any of it, and never really willing to make time for me. I remember him getting distant. And then it was over. He met someone else. Another redheaded swing dancer. Someone I knew (kind of). She's a great girl; I can't really blame him for wanting to date her. But I'm a great girl, too, and somewhere, you can see it starting in those last two weeks of last February, somewhere, I lost sight of that and I don't know that I found it again yet. I don't have the faith in myself that I had before I started dating him. I don't have the enthusiasm and excitement about my career. I've settled into what is safe.

And I'm angry with him still and that pisses me off even more. I got a random text message from him today, advertising one of his shows and I didn't recognize the number, so I asked who it was and it was him and I was angry. Why the fuck would I want to go support one of his shows? I'm angry that he took my confidence. I'm angry that I let him destroy my self-image. And I'm angry that I never yelled at him or told him what a jackass he was to me. Yes, I let him do all of those things. Yes, I let him get away with it. Yes, I'm a big girl and I'm responsible for my own feelings and I knew at the time that he was a player and I should have been more careful. And I know that there are people out there who are saying, "I warned you, but you didn't want to listen." Even in my journal entries, I say I know he's going to hurt me and he did. And I let him. And he has no fucking right to ask me to come see one of his shows. Why the hell does he even still have my number? I deleted his months ago.

And I think what makes me angriest is I was a really cool person before I met him and I'm not back there yet. It's like starting all over. Rebuilding my faith in my abilities. Rebuilding my sense of self as a desirable, attractive, intelligent woman who people want to be around. I should have been putting together a band a year ago, but I didn't have the confidence in my ability to do so. I thought I was stronger than that. I thought I was better than that. I thought I was tougher than that.

So now I have a guy in my life who tells me daily that I'm beautiful and it's different from day to day whether or not I believe him. He treats me really well and I'm not sure I deserve it. And you all are going to tell me that I do and it will be different from day to day whether or not I believe you. And how do I explain to him that I'm not still hung up on the other guy, but it still makes me want to cry when I get a random text message from him because he still makes me feel worthless?

Please don't ever let a boy (or girl) make you feel worthless. You're not. And there's no telling what you'll do, where you'll go, or how hard it will be to get back once you've started down that road. If nothing else, if you need just one little thread to hang onto, please know that you mean a lot to me. I love my readers. I miss you guys when I'm not posting here every day. I need to fix that, I know. But even when I'm not posting daily, I am thinking about you and I love that you come here and read my drivel. Thank you for that. And don't ever let anyone make you feel worthless.

So I'm a little annoyed with the weather people in Chicago. They told me that the worst of the winter weather was over and then today we get a sleet storm. Not quite rain, not quite snow, but very annoying nonetheless.

And there is one particular brand of soy ice cream that makes me wonder if this is what it feels like to be lactose intolerant, 'cuz this stuff, tasty as it is, just doesn't agree with me.

And I shouldn't be allowed to watch the Oscars anymore. At least not until I'm invited to attend. But I love it that the song from Inconvenient Truth won, despite the fact that it was up against three songs from Dreamgirls. That made me happy.

And now to bed. I got an early morning and a long day ahead of me.

And done.

And.

So I need to ask for your help on something.

A couple of years ago, I appeared in a student film for a friend of mine. A really talented filmmaker, this kid. Anyway, he has now submitted it to the reality show "On the Lot," which is like Top Chef or America's Next Top Model or American Idol or whatever, but for filmmakers. I don't know all of the prizes at stake or whatever, but I do know that this guy is a really good filmmaker and he should be in this contest. In order to do that, though, we need a lot of people to go watch this film and leave comments and vote for it and stuff. You can find it here. Watch it. Enjoy it. Love it. Vote for it. Tell all of your friends to vote for it. And with any luck, we'll get it on TV.

Thanks!

Hi.

I only have a minute, but I want to share two things that I am extraordinarily happy about.

One: The outdoor air temperature is above freezing. It had been over three weeks since we'd seen 32 degrees Farenheit or above, and now we're on day two in a row of above freezing weather. All of the weather guys seem to think that the worst of the winter is behind us. We could even see 50 by the weekend. Yay!!!

Two: Spring training has started and they're reporting about baseball on the news. I got to see Mark Prior throw a pitch the other day. And I think it may have even been Mike Barrett catching it. I know I miss baseball when it's not baseball season, but I never realize how much until I see my boys in blue again, on the field, doing what they love to do. It's like seeing my best friend after years of not. All feels right with the world again because the Cubs are playing baseball. Tickets go on sale this Friday! Yay!

Hope you all are well. Gotta run and do some "work."

So happy Valentine's Day!

I'm not used to having a valentine on Valentine's Day. Usually, I don't. Or my mom or my cat or something is my valentine. I'm not used to this being a romantic day at all, so this year, I'm a little confused. Normally, I wear black on Valentine's Day, Just, you know, to wear black. Also because about 90% of my wardrobe is black, white and grey. But today, because of the confusion, I'm wearing a sort of dirty/dusty rose colored shirt, underneath my black death hoodie that has a skull on it. It's the kind of dirty/dusty rose color that a man might wear in some movie that takes place in Mexico, so it's not really that girlie. It's just a color, and I don't normally wear colors. But then we have the black death hoodie on top to counteract the girlieness of the whole ensemble. Still feels a little strange, but I'm going to try it on for a day and see what happens.

And in other news, we had a blizzard here yesterday. Not as bad as in upstate New York, mind you, but apparently a blizzard is defined as a sustained period of time (3 hours or more) with 35+ mph winds and snow. We had that yesterday at the lakefront. And surprisingly, my car was not buried. I went out to it this morning to see how awful it was and it really wasn't awful at all. Not much snow on the actual car, though there was a nice sort of wall built up around it. Fortunately for me, when I got there, the guy behind me was leaving, and he had the end spot on the block. So I dug out my car, "shoveled" aside the snow behind it (I put shoveled in quotes because I don't own a shovel -- I used my hands and the brush thingy that I had been using to wipe the snow off of my car), and backed up into the end space on the block. Meaning when I do actually go to get my car out, hopefully I can just back out and go, instead of having to do the back and forth, gun it over the mound of snow the plows built up next to it thing. But I'm still going to avoid driving as much as I can for the next couple of days. Once I get out of this spot, finding another one could prove to be a challenge.

So yeah, happy Valentine's Day. I love you guys. You know this, yes? Wherever you are, be safe and warm and let everyone you know know that you love them. Today and every day.

I know I've said it before, but I think we all need to readjust our calendars. Seriously, we're off by a month or so. It was in the sixties in December, and here we are in February anticipating a foot of snow. A foot of snow in the middle of February. This seems much more like December or January weather to me. If we all just decided, as a collective, to redo January (because let's face it, this January wasn't all that great to begin with), then our weather would make a lot more sense. And we'd all get an extra paycheck this year. And an extra month to do our taxes. I'm scared to do my taxes this year -- I know they're going to be a mess and I'm either going to end up getting a million dollars back or paying every last cent that I have. I guess I should just do them and get it out of the way, huh?

Wherever you are, I hope you're warm and safe and your taxes aren't scaring you.

I'm an aunt!

Kind of. But not really.

My best friend had her baby yesterday. Happy, healthy, beautiful little girl. My friend is sending me pictures and I have to say, she is especially cute. But then, I always knew she would be. I just wish they didn't live so far away! I can't wait to meet her!

Happy birthday, Sara. Welcome to this crazy world. Your Aunt Kitty loves you very much.

You know what would make me insanely happy? If I had two days in a row wherein I didn't have to do anything. I'm not saying I wouldn't do anything. I would. I'd work on music or sew or play with my cat or hang out with the boy or whatever. But two days in a row without work or shows or rehearsals or what have you. *sigh* Sounds like a luxury to me. Other people call it "weekends."

So this show I'm in opens tonight. Kind of excited. Kind of nervous. I'm hoping the nervous will turn into energy for the closing number. I feel pretty good about the rest of the show; it's just the closing number that has me a little worried. We just got the song about a week ago (if that) and we learned the choreography on Sunday, so if it's not sparkling, that's why. But we should all be able to sell it anyway. We're actors! That's what we do. But yeah, we open tonight. I love opening night in general. All of our hard work starts to pay off.

Wish us luck! Or broken legs, actually.

My heat works. It was 72 degrees in my apartment when I woke up yesterday. It was 76 degrees in my apartment by the time I left for work this morning. Considering it had been between 62 and 64 degrees in my place on any given morning, may I just take a moment to say that I now have the best 8-14 degrees of heat in my apartment ever? I don't know if you realize how big of a temperature change occurs in those 8-14 degrees, but let me tell you, it's wonderful. I'm happy to be at home now, working on stuff, not just curled up under a blanket. Though I do still like to be curled up under blankets with my cat. There is very little in life that is nicer than that.

So yay heat! Oh, and I'm still trying to get used to the "b" word. Gimmie some time and I'll tell you more about it. Maybe.

I need to whine for a minute.

I'm tired of being cold. I've been cold since October, pretty much, and I'm tired of it. I'd like, just for a day or two, to be not just warm enough, but warm. Hot, even. My friend got me those hand warmer things -- little pouches that you snap and shake and they are like portable heating pads for about ten hours -- and they're lovely, but I'd like to not need them. I'd like to be warm for a couple of days.

I'm tired of things in my apartment not working. I blew a fuse for the second time this morning. I was running my microwave, hair dryer, and television all at the same time, and a fuse blew. Seriously, when it blew, those were the only things on in that circuit. Unless the fridge kicked in and that's what sent it over the edge.

I'm tired of not finding a drummer. The guy I had was great, if you don't count his disappearance factor. Anyone know a drummer who wants to join a rock project?

But mostly, I'm tired of being cold. It saps away all of my energy and makes me not want to do anything. I need to be doing things right now, but all I want to do is curl up under blankets with my cat on my lap and sleep. So Mother Nature, seeing as it's February tomorrow, could you crank up the heat just a few degrees? Instead of waking up in the morning and seeing that it is FOUR outside, what if it was forty? Sometime soon? Please? Thanks so much!

Okay, I know this is going to come out sounding awful, but I really don't mean it that way. It's a strange observation for me that has me, I dunno, reexamining myself or something.

I'm not used to being one of the smaller female cast members. We all know I'm not shaped like a lollipop girl; I have curves. Some maybe more curvy than they should be, but I have them and they're nice. The vast majority of the people I know think they're nice. But as an actress, I'm usually amongst the bigger members of the cast. Let's face it, there are a lot of anorexic looking actresses out there, and they usually get the lead roles. But in the show I'm doing now, all of the actresses are normal-sized. We're all curvy women. And it's really bizarre for me to be one of the smaller ones. I put on this dress today that I would never in a million years actually wear because in once scene, I was cast as Lust, and it's really strange to be the sexy one. Really strange.

I dunno. I have a lot of people right now trying to pound into my head that not only am I a beautiful person, I'm physically beautiful, too. It's really strange to be confronted with that on an almost daily basis.

I would like to say that I think all of the women in this cast are beautiful and sexy. I'm mostly just not used to being one of them.

So yesterday was one of those days that I could have used a do-over. It just...yeah.

But perhaps the worst part of it was that one of the dogs in the office where I work got hurt. I think she cut her paw on the backyard fence as she was digging underneath it, but it was a bad cut. Down to the bone. And I was the one who discovered she was hurt. Poor baby comes limping at me when I call her to come back inside; she hardly even made a sound. But I ran to get my boss and we both sprung into action to get her to a vet as quickly as we could and she's fine. She has one of those cone things around her neck, but she's fine.

The disturbing part about it was that the vet asked how long ago the injury took place. In our case, it was less than an hour before we got the dog to the vet. But the fact that she had to ask that question means there are people out there who will let an animal sit with a gaping wound for extended periods of time before getting help for the animal. How sick is that? She was cut down to the bone. Of course we were going to drop everything and take her to the doctor. There are people who wouldn't? How could you not? How could you look at an animal suffering like that and not do something to help?

I know there are a lot of people out there championing human rights causes, and I think they are wonderful for doing so. I want to be a champion for animals because they can't ask for help if they need it. They so often get the short end of the stick and if I can do something about that, I'm going to.

No, I'm not seeing this turning into a crusade. But it is why, even though I don't make a lot of money, I still donate to animal rights organizations, while I may pass up some human rights ones. I want to make it so that every animal who needs help gets it. That day. Not when it's convenient for the owner.

So yay Bears, huh?

I'm thinking I'm a closeted sports fanatic. Gimmie a sport, tell me who to cheer for, and I'm all about it. I love the clapping of hands, the yelling at the TV screen (or at the players if I'm at an actual game), the comraderie that develops amongst fans for the duration of the game. And I think I have to admit that I like a good healthy dose of competition. It's good for you once in a while.

I don't know that football will become my sport of choice, though, for a couple of reasons. One -- your team only plays one game a week. Call me a crack whore, but one game a week isn't enough for me. Two -- living in Chicago, my only real chance to go to a football game would be in winter when it's way too cold for me to justify sitting outside for five hours.

But yeah, I like sports. I'll admit it. The Chicago Cubs still are and always will be my first sports love, but I could get into other games, too. Now I just gotta find a boy who isn't frightened by my, um, enthusiasm.

So another chapter of my life comes to a close. I wish I could say amiably, but right now, I think there is still a lot of misplaced anger and hurt feelings. Someday that will all clear up and we'll all be good. I know that. I had a lot of fun and learned a lot of really important things. Perhaps most importantly, I learned how not to do things. And I think that in general, I'm okay with this chapter closing because it opens me up to a whole bunch of new opportunities. And it means a lot less time that I will have to spend feeling mediocre.

I don't know. I'm pensive today. Lot to think about. Who to trust and who not to. Why I beat myself up about things. What I want to do with my life. What is it time to let go of and what should I hold on to. Whether the choices I'm making or am about to make are good ones. Whether or not I can afford to make bad ones. That kind of stuff. I know I'm being very vague and that is intentional. All of it will be okay and I'll be fine. Just a lot on my mind today.

Hope you're all doing well.

And I know you all have this idea that I'm intelligent and well adjusted and whatnot, but I have a confession to make that may change all of that. Or part of that.

See, as part of my new year's non-resolution, I made a promise to be nice to myself on a regular basis. This is a good thing. I even told one guy that at the new year's eve party I went to and he asked if he could steal it. (Side note: burnt cashews are awful!) So I've been trying to think of things that I can do to be nicer to myself. I did place an order with the wonderful online vegan store that is linked over in the margin there and I have to say that I just feel good when I do that. Sometimes I'll order stuff that I don't even need, just so I can support them. Seriously, they're that good. Good selection. Competitive prices. All of their products are high quality. And above all, their customer service is top notch. Seriously. Other companies should take lessons from them on how to conduct customer service. Friendly. Personal. Things you ordered arrive on time through the shipping method you chose and if you ever have to return anything, they're really cool about it. I honestly want everyone in the world to order things from them, just because they are that good of a store. Regardless of whether or not you're looking for vegan wares. Order a peanut butter cup or something -- they're really tasty. Or some shoes. If you didn't know they were vegan, you wouldn't know they were vegan.

Anyway, so I did that. But I realized that I am meanest to myself when it comes to my physical appearance. Granted, I will be remembered as a woman with one of the best all-time heads of hair, because I do have great hair. And I do like my hands -- they're cute and delicate. And more and more as of late, I've been liking my eyes. But the whole middle section...I beat myself up about it all of the time. And I'm tired of doing that. It's counterproductive. Especially when I am interested in pursuing careers in industries that require me to sell myself -- tell people how great I am. If I don't buy it, why would they?

Side note: I still know that I'm an exceptional person, a good musician, and a very talented actor. But let's be honest, you can't see talent in a headshot and if I can't even get in there for an audition...

I have, in the past, tried all kinds of things to improve my physical appearance. I've done Pilates. I bought an exercise bike. I walk lots of places. I have workout tapes and dumbbells. I'm a vegan, so you know I eat healthy. Most of the time anyway. But I still have this gargantuan ass following me around everywhere I go. Doesn't matter how many squats or leg lifts or donkey kicks I do, my ass just doesn't get any smaller. And I don't like it. Yes, I know that a study just came out proving that men prefer women with curves to anorexic types. I'm not saying I want to look anorexic. (And it's not all about my attractiveness to men. I know a lot of men who like my butt just the way it is. I think I'd rather be with a man who likes me for me, though, not for my butt.) I'm saying I want to feel like I'm proportional. I want to try on a dress that fits me in the bust, waist, and hips without major alterations. I want to be able to buy jeans at places like Old Navy or the Gap because they're cheaper than the designer jeans I have to buy now to accommodate my rear. And with all of the things I have tried in the past, I've finally come to the conclusion that the only way to get rid of my butt is to diet. You can't be a hundred pound person with a gargantuan ass. It just doesn't work that way. One can only lose so much weight from elsewhere before your body starts absorbing it's largest fat stores -- the derriere.

Side note: my goal weight is not 100 pounds. That would be very unhealthy for a person my height. I was exaggerating so that you all get the idea.

And I know, diet is such an ugly word. But I'm doing it. I found this diet online that has a vegetarian option and you are, theoretically, supposed to drop ten pounds in eleven days. I'm on day six and I've lost six pounds, so I guess I'm on track, huh? I don't know how much of it is water weight -- they tell you to drink at least 8 glasses of water a day, so I'm peeing every ten minutes -- versus actual weight. But after the eleven days, you are supposed to not diet for three days, and then if you want to, you can do the thing again. I printed out a few different eleven-day menus for myself, so hopefully I won't get bored with it or sick of it. Nutritionally, I have my bases covered, so no worries about that. I am paying attention to calorie intake, to make sure I'm getting enough but not too much. And so far, it's going okay.

So yeah, that's my nice bit of being imbalanced. I'm on a diet to shrink my butt. I guess it's better than getting liposuction, though, huh?

So the presidential race. I'm kind of excited that it's coming up, because it means Mr. 32% Approval Rating won't be around much longer. Unless he passes some legislation to allow presidents to serve more than two consecutive terms, but I don't think he'd get that through the now Democratic Congress.

But things are starting to get exciting. Sounds like Kerry, maybe Edwards, possibly Hilary, and potentially even Obama will run. I don't know how involved in primary stuff I want to get because honestly, I'd vote for any of those four. But I think I'm secretly hoping that Obama runs and wins the whole thing. I guess it's not secretly anymore, is it? He is an intelligent man. He sees that things aren't necessarily this or that; that there is such a thing as grey area. And maybe they're right; maybe his lack of experience is a good thing. Maybe he's not jaded yet. Maybe he's not anyone's puppet yet. Maybe if he waited another eight or twelve years to run, he would be. But maybe what we need right now is a president with a fresh perspective. What am I saying? We need a president with a fresh perspective. This whole "stay the course" thing has really gone sour. So sour, even Shrub admits it's not going so well. But Obama makes me feel at ease when he speaks. Like I could trust him (as much as you can trust any politician). I don't think it will be an easy campaign for him, but at least they got the drug usage thing out of the way already. I dunno. I want to do more research, but if the presidential elections were today, I think I'd have to go with Obama.

Let the lambasting begin.

Okay, today I'm not going to bitch about the cold or apologize for the lapse in time since my last post or justify this diet I'm on. No, today, I'm going to post a story. See, at my old job where I was bored all of the time, I used to spend entire days exchanging MySpace messages with a friend of mine. And one day I wrote this story for him to keep him entertained. I had forgotten about it, but he just sent it back to me and I have to say, I write a good off-the-cuff-silly story. So enjoy! (And to the creators of Homestar Runner, please take it as a compliment that I adopted your word "burninate" for usage in this story. It is intended as a tribute, not a slight.)


Once upon a time there was a dragon named Leo. Leo liked to burninate things. A LOT!

Leo lived in a part of the world known as Mallowbrook, named for the river that flowed through it, the Mallow River. The River got it's name from the marshmallow factory that used to run at the mouth of the river and that would often dump it's waste material into the river. Hence, the Mallow River was kind of thick and milky looking. Not exactly the kind of river that people would want to build a city around, but EXACTLY the kind of river that Leo, the burninating dragon, loved.

One day, down by the river, Leo heard a voice coming out of nowhere.

"Get away from my river!"

He had no idea who could be so furiously possessive about his river. Yes, Leo liked to burninate things, but he was happy to share the abundant milky waters of the Mallow River with whoever might want to partake. In all truth, he was hoping a cute lady dragon might pop by one day and save him from his loneliness.

"Get away from my river!" the voice yelled again.

"Um, hullo?" called Leo. "Who are you, and may I see a copy of the deed stating that this is, in fact, your river?"

"The what?" replied the voice.

"Your deed for the river. If it is, in fact, your river."

"Um, gimmie a minute."

Leo heard a rustling in the nearby bushes and then everything was quiet. He went over to investigate and found nothing of interest. Not even a lingonberry. So he went back to splashing around in the river. He figured that if this was going to be the last time he'd be able to utilize his beloved milky waters, he better take full advantage.

Leo got quite caught up in his solo game of Sink the Dragon and was surprised nearly out of his skin when the voice returned saying, "Here's your silly deed. Now get out of my river!" A piece of paper floated out of the bushes where Leo had earlier heard a rustling.

Leo got out of the river to investigate the paper. "This is a cocktail napkin from The Beaver Hut. And 'deed' is spelled wrong. Who are you?"

Slowly, out of the bushes slunk a very matted, dejected looking wolf.

"Mother told me I should stay in school, but did I listen? No. 'When am I ever going to need to learn how to spell?' I asked. You showed me, mother," said the wolf shaking his fist at the sky. "I hope you're happy now."

"Hullo," said Leo.

"Hi," replied the wolf.

"Um, I'm Leo," said Leo, extending one hand.

"Ralph," replied the wolf.

"No offense, but Ralph isn't a very wolf-like name."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, it doesn't exactly strike fear into the hearts of men, now does it?"

"No, I guess it doesn't. LEO."

"Good point."

They looked at each other in silence for a moment.

"So, you like this river too?" asked Leo after what seemed like forever.

"I really just need a bath," replied Ralph, not looking at Leo anymore.

"Yeah, I can see that."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing. I mean, you've got lovely fur, but it looks like it could use a good washing and brushing."

"I had a run in with a jelly truck."

"There was a jelly truck?"

"Last week."

"Oh." If there was one thing Leo loved more than the Mallow River and burninating things, it was jelly. "Well, dive on in. I don't know that the Mallow River will get all of the jelly out, but it certainly wouldn't hurt."

"I can't take a bath with you here watching."

"Oh, I see. Well, what if I go away for a bit and come back later?"

"I guess that would be okay."

"Would you like me to leave my rubber ducky?"

"Yes please," replied Ralph.

"Okay then." Leo handed Ralph his rubber ducky and flew off into the sunset.

Ralph had a lovely bath and then went to visit his graphic artist friend. If he was going to run around claiming territories and rivers in the future, he was going to need a flag to do so.

And they never saw each other again.

The end.

Man, I'm getting really bad. I used to post in here every friggin' day, sometimes many times in a day. And now it's three or four days between posts. I'm sorry. I miss it, I really do. And if it's any consolation, I am seriously thinking about upgrading to broadband or DSL or something in my apartment because it's really the whole dial-up thing that makes me not want to be online at home. It's just a hassle, you know? But I am seriously thinking about joining the 21st century soon. I just don't know how or what exactly I'm doing. I think it will also involve me getting a USB port splitter, as my Mac Mini only has two USB ports and I could already use about six. Maybe I'll do that this weekend while I'm at the mall that has an Apple store. I love my Mac. Just in case you didn't know, Macs rule and PCs drool. Or something. I dunno. I was never very good at the smack talk.

See, I was going to come here and post something poignant, but now I've forgotten what it was.

Oh yeah! I love acting. I really do. We've started rehearsing our next play at my theater company and I really love rehearsing. To warm up, you play games. Then you get on stage and play some more. And the best part about the early rehearsal process is that you get to just play. Try stuff. If it doesn't work, the director will tell you and it's a no harm, no foul kind of thing. If it does work, the director will tell you to push it farther and often times, you'll get your fellow cast mates laughing really hard. That feels so good. And I started pulling costumes for myself last night, too. I don't know if they will ultimately be okay or not, but I like to play dress-ups. Tee hee. So yeah, all in all, I had a lovely evening at the theater last night playing on stage and playing with some really hideous clothing. I think that is my general costume design philosophy -- make 'em hideous! At least for the over the top sketch shows at my theater company. It just makes sense. I'm wearing a body suit type thing, for crying out loud. With bell bottoms and ruffles on it. It's funny. You'll just have to come see it for yourself.

Hey.

So happy new year, everybody! Things are off to a rockin' start. Literally. I had my first practice with my band last night and it was amazing. I kind of like it that they came from all over -- one is a friend I've known for the last year, one is a guy who found my ad at the Old Town School, and one is a friend of a friend -- but we all got along great and made some really fun tunes. My tunes. But spiced up so that they sound fuller and more exciting. There were times during the rehearsal that I would close my eyes so I could focus better on the individual elements of the song -- what was the bass doing, what was the other guitar doing, what were the drums doing -- and at times, it all sounded so good together that I couldn't keep myself from grinning ear to ear. I almost couldn't sing anymore because I was smiling too hard.

I'm really excited to be working with these guys. I think they hear my music in a very similar way to how I hear it. I think they understand what I mean when I say, "Let's not make this one too country," or "Yeah, you can even go crunchier." I think (though I could be wrong) that they like having a ringleader who has ideas for things and knows how to implement them (hooray for my directing background!). I hope I didn't get too bossy or pushy or tyrannical -- I'm trying to go for a nice balance between saying when something is awesome and saying when I'm not happy with a sound. I'm still working on that, and I told all of my guys to tell me if I'm out of line or whatever. I hope they actually will. Because I had fun last night. I think this is great music we'll be putting out. And I want to make sure that they are all having fun, too. Musicians who enjoy each other and enjoy the music they make together make better music together, I think.

So yeah, keep an eye out for our first full band show, maybe in late March. We gotta polish up a few more tunes, and with me working on a new play and with another band, it's gonna take a couple weeks. But look out. I have a band. And I love them.

Happy 2007, everyone!

First of all, when did that happen? How is it 2007? Damn, I'm getting old.

Okay, so my New Year's Eve was actually pretty good this year. I had been contemplating staying at home with a bottle of wine, but kind of at the last minute, my theater friends from college called to invite me to their shin-dig, promising that I could play my guitar if I showed up, and also telling me I had to dress up purdy 'cuz everyone else was going to, too. So as I was getting ready, I was listening to a Moby concert that was broadcast on the radio and I was jumping around like an idiot. It was awesome. I think I might have to make "jumping around like an idiot to Moby music on a regular basis" part of my "being nice to myself" resolution. I'm sure anyone outside looking in my windows got an interesting show, but that was half the fun.

So I donned my uncomfortable shoes and grabbed my guitar and went to my friend's house where it hit me - I've known most of these people for over ten years. And they still invite me to their parties. No, we don't hang out a whole lot, but that's a pretty long time to know people and still have them like you enough to invite you to their parties. When they have an intimate gathering with just people they really like, they invite me, too. Not bad. That actually made me feel pretty good. And I got to talk to people I talk to every time I go over there, and I got to talk to people I never talk to when I go over there and it was really nice. I didn't get horribly drunk. I didn't kiss anyone at midnight (not really, a couple pecks on the lips amongst friends, but no making out). A new friend of mine showed up after midnight, so I got to chat for a while there, too. All in all, it was a good night. Made that much better by the fact that I came home feeling good and got to wake up to my favorite little furry face and spend some time with him this morning before we set about our day. Which has consisted of pasta, a Cooking Under Fire marathon, and laundry. It's been great.

And by my favorite little furry face, I mean Owen, of course. I came home alone, though I had the option to not. I'm proud of myself for coming home alone. It's kind of in line with my "I'm not going to let a guy dictate how I feel about myself" resolution. I'm going to be careful before I jump into anything, drunken or not. And this way, I get to keep my pride. And I got the whole day today to myself, to be as lazy as I want. And I was LAZY!

But it's all good, 'cuz I'm back to work tomorrow. Band practice Wednesday. I think I'm going to see a play this week, too, and I think I have a meeting at my theater before we start rehearsals for the next show there on Sunday. So yeah. My new year's gift to me was a total lazy bum day. With laundry.

Happy New Year, everyone!

So I don't know that I believe in resolutions as such, but I do have a couple of promises that I want to make to myself that I'm putting in here in the hopes that this will inspire me to keep them, and/or will get you guys on my case to make sure I keep them.

I promise to be nice to myself on a regular basis, even if it costs money, and even if it means staying home on a Friday night when there are a million things I could be out doing, if I feel like staying in. I've kind of lost track of this whole being nice to me thing and as an introvert, as a person, I think it is important. So I promise to be nice to me on a regular basis.

I promise to not let some guy have so much influence over my self esteem and self image. Anyone who would try to belittle or destroy that doesn't deserve to know me. He is most likely intimidated and scared and doesn't know how to handle it other than by making those around him feel small. I need to remember that and remember that it's his problem, not mine. I'm not going to say there is nothing wrong with me because I know there's plenty wrong with me, but I also know that I am an amazing person and I deserve better. I deserve someone who knows that and isn't afraid of it.

I promise to not let my house get so cluttered anymore. It's driving me crazy. I'm thinking of tackling the problem on New Year's day as part of the hangover solution. I'll totally be in the mood to throw things out.

So yeah, that's it. I hope whatever you guys are doing that you have a very happy and safe new year. I want to be able to talk to you all for many years to come, so be safe, okay? Promise? Groovy.

So I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas, whether or not you choose to celebrate it. If you don't, I hope you had a lovely Monday.

After my 27-hour family gatherings galore ordeal, I finally got home last night to (drum roll please) no heat! That's right, the heat went out. Again. So I called. Again. And nobody called me back. Again. And I called this morning. Again. And the heat finally came on at about 6pm this evening. It's not cranking out very hard, either. It was 57 degrees in here before the heat came on and now, six hours of heat later and it's only 66. I'm thinking I may have to tell them that in all of their trying to fix my radiators by adjusting the valves, that they actually broke one of them. And that I'm not paying for any more unheated days in my place. I sent them the letter laying out the Chicago Municipal Code and it's requirements and how they have failed to meet said requirements, as I'm supposed to. Now it's time for me to take advantage of the remedies prescribed in the Code.

I'm so not looking forward to the rest of the winter.

That, and I'm sick. We're talking three or four Kleenexes to blow my nose kind of sick, and we all know how much I hate blowing my nose. So I'm loading up on vitamin C and zinc, hoping that will help me feel not like crap soon. In the meantime, I'm all about lentils and tea and sitting on my couch piled high with blankets.

Whereever you are, I hope you're warm and not sniffly.

Okay, political crap. Which do you think the general American population is more prepared for, a female president or an African American president? See, I'd most likely vote for either Hilary or Barack if they are nominated, but I'm wondering if this is the best time in American history to make history, if you know what I mean. Even if the democratic candidate is WAY more qualified than the republican candidate, will people vote for the democrat if it is a woman? Or an African American man? I don't know. I know a lot of people who are pulling for either candidate to announce candidacy, and I kind of have to include myself in their ranks. I just hope that if either one of them gets the democratic nomination, it doesn't blow up in our faces, you know? Please let people in general be more accepting than I think they probably are.

So I could talk about politics or the weather or how this drop of oil I ingested today seems to be helping the sore throat I was developing, but seeing as it is almost Christmas, I want to talk about Christmas for a minute.

First off, I'm sorry if any of you are offended by Christmas or my discussion thereof. I know a lot of different people celebrate a lot of different holidays this time of year and I hope that whatever one you happen to be celebrating, that is it wonderful and joyous for you and that you feel safe and warm and loved throughout the season.

But for me, Christmas is coming at exactly the wrong time this year. I have too much going on to take a day or two out of all of it and, I dunno, have Christmas. Which is ludicrous because what I really need more than anything is a day or two off. Out of it all. Christmas is not relaxing for me. I don't know that it ever was. Maybe when I was little, but it hasn't been probably since my parents got divorced and I had to start doing the two houses thing. And then when I moved out of my parent's place, it got worse - it turned into a 24-36 hour ordeal. And then when I became vegan, it became a 24-36 hour ordeal with lots of stuff to schlep around. So to be perfectly honest, I don't look forward to Christmas. No matter how thoughtful the gifts I give people might be, I still never think they are enough. No matter how well prepared I think I am, I always forget something. And yet, no matter how much I mess it up, my friends and family continue to love me. How cool is that?

And this year, playing at the sammich shop, I've been getting requests for holiday songs. I play some funny ones and some not funny ones. And I have to say that I think my current favorite Christmas carol is "Little Drummer Boy." No, I've not had good experiences with drummers in the past, but I'm looking past that at the meaning of this song. A little boy has no gift to give Jesus except the gift of music that he himself made. And it is perfect. I dunno. Maybe it's speaking to me because I'm a musician. Maybe it speaks to me because I often feel like what I have to give is not enough, but those around me continue to insist that I give more than they could ever want. Even if all I have to give is me.

Thank you. I love you. And I wish you a very merry Christmas.

Okay, so let's say person A is of one gender and is typically attracted to persons of the same gender that person B happens to be. Let us also say that person B is of one gender and is typically attracted to persons of the same gender that person A happens to be. Now, if person A and person B are both single, is it safe to assume that either person would be very happy and flattered by the other person saying something along the lines of, "Hey. I think you are really neat and quite attractive?" I think that in general, that is a nice thing to hear, if it is coming from a single person of the gender you happen to be attracted to. Even if said person is thousands of miles away.

So why is it still so friggin' hard to say?

Hey. I think you are really neat and quite attractive.

Of course, you don't know who you is, so chances are (and I'm sorry about this) that it's not you. I do love you all, my readers. But that last bit was to a specific you and now that I've said it, I can get past it, and nobody has to feel awkward about anything because you don't know who you is.

Dude, I wasn't even really drinking tonight. One beer. After lots of food, so it had little to no effect on me. Maybe it's the caffeine talking. Or the fact that I got to sing "Me and Bobby McGee" in a piano bar for my friend for her birthday and I rocked it. I was all gravelly and sexy and stuff. Not quite Janis, but pretty darn close. I really do love covering that song. I hope it is public domain so that I won't get sued for singing it in public, because really, I sing it out of respect for Ms. Joplin and a love for the song, and even out of respect for Kris Kristofferson. It's a great tune. And so much fun to sing. If I'm not allowed to sing it in public anymore, find me privately and I'll sing it for you (and this time, I mean any/all of you) because I have to say, I do rock the Bobby McGee.

Okay, going to bed now.

I took a mental day today. I needed a mental day. Besides the fact that I hadn't had a day off since sometime mid-September, I'm thinking, I have to say that it gets stressful to not know what's going on in your life. I have a lot on my plate, between work and band stuff and band stuff and theater stuff and work, but the middle three things on that list haven't set any kinds of schedules yet and frankly, it's getting to me. I want to hang out with my friends, but I can't really make plans more than an hour ahead of time because I don't know if I'm going to be needed elsewhere. It's a little bit annoying.

So I took a mental day today. I didn't leave my house. I made a couple of phone calls, mostly resulting in voice mail messages. I didn't do anything to my hair, besides wash it and put it in a ponytail. I didn't put in my contacts. I didn't put on any make up. I didn't put on my jewelry or a belt, even. I finished reading the sixth Harry Potter book (I'm finally caught up!) which is now six days overdue at the library, but I figured I can give them an extra ten cents and return it tomorrow. I didn't finish my Christmas shopping, but I did (I think) make a decent list of what I still need to get to give to people. But I needed this. I needed my day. I'm an introvert, damn it! I need time spent not talking to people. I need a day wherein I can nap on my couch with my cat on my stomach. And so I took it today. I'm sorry if it inconvenienced anyone, but as an introvert, I needed my recharge day.

All will be better tomorrow.

Or not.

But here's hoping it will be.

OH! And happy birthday to my Bostonian guy friend. You are and always will be one of my absolute favorite people. I just wish you lived closer. I love you, sweetheart, and hope you had a wonderful day.

So I was watching this birthday party at the sammich shop where I work today. It was very obvious who the birthday girl was, and it was glaringly obvious that she is an introvert. There was another little girl at the party who was very obviously an extrovert, and who was obviously the favorite amongst that particular group of friends. There was one other girl in the group with introverted tendencies, and she and the birthday girl ended up sitting next to each other chatting while all of the rest of the girls crowded around the extrovert and made lot of noise.

I want to say happy birthday to the introvert. And I did. I sang happy birthday to her.

I also want to tell her that it gets better. I had that same birthday party a million times, where all of my friends were talking to each other and not to me, even though it was my party. I want to tell her to hang onto her introvert friend because they will go far and be amazing women when they grow up. I want to tell her to not hate the extrovert because honestly, she doesn't know any better.

I want to tell the birthday girl's parents that they did a good job. They took home a little girl who felt like an outsider at her own party. There really isn't anything they could do about that. To not throw a party would make this girl a social pariah. To throw her a party with extroverts makes her an outcast. Six of one, half dozen of the other. I want the birthday girl's parents to know that it's okay. They did a good job with the party and all of the other girls are going to go home and talk about what a great time they had, and they will all think that your daughter has the best parties. It's just going to take her a while to be able to enjoy them in the same way.

I want to tell the extroverted girl that it would be really nice of her if she could make her friend's birthday about her friend and not about herself.

Happy birthday, little introvert. Someday, if you want to, you get to be just like me. And that's a good thing. I promise.

I can't believe Christmas is only about a week away. I feel so non Christmasy this year. Last year, if you'll remember, I was all about it. This year, it's more of an inconvenience than anything. I'm sorry if that's offensive.

And it looks like I'm going to have to change the template for this blog. It served me well for a very long time, but now that there's this new fancy schmancy version of Blogger out there, my old gray blocks template doesn't work anymore. *sigh*

Here's hoping 2007 is better.

We are a culture obsessed with plastic bags and frankly, it kind of makes me sick. If I go into a drug store and buy contact lens solution and a pair of tweezers, I don't need them in separate bags, and I don't need the one bag in which both items are placed to be double bagged. You know why people started making so much stuff out of plastic? Because it's strong! They make cars out of plastic, for crying out loud, and you trust them to protect you from wind and rain and other cars while you're speeding along at 65 miles per hour, but you don't trust one plastic bag to be able to support the weight of an orange? It has to be double bagged in order for you to feel safe? I'm sorry, but that's ludicrous.

I do have to say that I like the stores that now have their own self check out thingys (they're probably refered to as "kiosks," but I'm not a big fan of that word. It smacks of corporate brainwashing) because as I bag my items, I can use as few bags as I want. I can put all twelve cans of cat food in a single bag, and throw a new toothbrush on top, if I so choose.

Seriously. I went to the fabric store the other day to buy some notions and a bit of fabric. The cashier rung up the fabric, put it in a bag, and put the bag to the side, like he was going to put the notions in a completely separate bag. Wait, what? Are you telling me that the plastic bags at this particular store are so flimsy that they can't handle a yard of cotton fabric and two spools of thread? What? So I told him that everything could go in the same bag, that I gave him permission to not be wasteful, and he was shocked. Shocked. Like what a preposterous idea that I only need one bag to carry my four ounces of purchases. Ridiculous.

I guess what I'm saying is that we've all become wusses. They made plastic bags to be strong. Yes, occasionally one will rip if you're carrying a knife point-side down in it. But that doesn't mean each item I buy needs its own bag. Look at what you're buying, people, and conserve. And then, once you get your bags home and empty them, take them back to the store to be recycled. The proliferation of plastic bags is disturbing. They're going to take over the planet someday, and I, for one, don't want to answer to a plastic bag overlord.

Seacrest out.

A friend of mine lost her father yesterday. He had been sick for a long time, so it's kind of one of those "better in the long run" things, and on the positive side, they saw it coming so she was able to be with him a lot towards the end. But I can't imagine losing my father. My heart goes out to my friend and her family.

I'm so sorry for your loss, sweetheart.

There are times when I think that all I want out of life is to be able to eat tomatoes every day.