One Down, Five to Go

Congratulations are in order my friends, if I do say so myself. I have just (and when I say 'just' I literally mean just this very minute) completed my first semester of graduate school. Only five more to go before I'm a librarian. YAY! This means that for an ever-so-brief period of time (namely, between right now and January 11th at 1:30 PM) I will actually have - miracle of miracles! - *free* time! Holy crap! What the heck is that?! And to think, I've begun considering continuing on to get my PhD, I must be INSANE.

Some things I am looking forward to doing in the coming days and weeks include, but are not limited to:

• seeing Steph and Brian's new house
• calling Linda back (sorry dude, it's been ridiculous)
• watching TV without feeling guilty about the time spent doing some activity other than studying, and catching up on all the episodes of Nip/Tuck that have been collecting in my DVR
• reading something that is NOT from a library science journal (Vogue, here I come!)
• drinking adult beverages
• spending time with old friends while they are in town
• cooking fun Christmas goodies
• finishing my Christmas shopping
• having fun
• giving my brain a much deserved break

And, saving the best for last:

• I get to see Shaun when he comes home from Texas!!!! YAY!

Think I'm excited about that last one?

Get Smart, Give Back

Hello lovelies.

Want to play a fun vocabulary game (ahem, Scrabble fans, this means YOU) and also feed the needy at the same time?

Visit FreeRice.com and earn 20 grains of donated rice for every word you correctly identify the definition for. The game is smart, it automatically adjusts to your vocabulary level based on your answers, so it's sure to challenge even those of you who love to tap into your $5 word collection!


Yesterday, December 2, they donated 231,789,260 grains of rice through the United Nations World Food Programme (WFP). Put it in your Web browser's list of favorites and waste some time at work or school while feeding hungry people all at the same time! That way when your boss says, "Hey, what are you doing goofing around on the Internet all day for?" You can say, "I'm ending world hunger, what are you doing?"

I donated 300 grains of rice of today, how much did you give?

Technology Hates Me, Part 2

So today the transmission on my car blew up. I swear to holy heaven. I don't know what the freaking deal is, but this is becoming totally ridiculous. I am scheduled to make my LAST car payment on this thing in T-minus 3 months and counting, and *of course* the effing transmission has to go and blow up on me! To make things worse, the tranny was rebuilt, brand new, for me when I bought it in August 2005. Sure, it's been two years and 35,000 miles, but a transmission ought to last a far piece longer than THAT!

On the flip side, my new hard drive arrived in the mail, fresh from Gateway. Shimron (Shaun's best friend), bless his heart, has ever-so-kindly agreed to examine the busted hard drive and see if any of my data can be recovered, as well as install the new one for me. He told me tonight he can even have it back to me tomorrow, which is a blessing because my homework is piling up and I NEED my computer!!

So, lovely readers, please keep your fingers crossed for me that, by some miracle of nature, a magical money elf appears and offers to pay for my transmission rebuild so that I can still buy my family and friends Christmas presents this year, because it'll probably cost me at least $1000, which is my Christmas budget.

Fingers crossed people!!

Technology Hates Me

So tonight, for no apparent reason other than the fact that technology hates me, my hard drive on my *brand spanking new* -- and expensive as all get out -- Gateway notebook failed. After 45 minutes on the phone with Mark from Gateway support I was faced with two horrible options:

1. They can ship me a new hard drive in 3-5 business days, which I then have to install, and then I have to ship the defective hard drive back to them within 30 days, otherwise they charge my credit card the cost of the new hard drive, OR
2. I get to PAY to ship my whole computer back to them, they fix it and ship it back to me -- in 3-4 WEEKS!

I think I did pretty good while on the phone with young Mark, I didn't yell, I didn't cry, I only used the F bomb once, and not at him, more as a groan of complete and total frustration. But as soon as I hung up I burst into tears. I have most of my important documents for school backed up on a flash drive, and what's not there I can download again. But my photos, all the music in my iTunes, just gone.

I did a lot of research before I bought my computer, more research than I've ever done before purchasing anything, except maybe my education. I ended up spending a LOT of money on my Gateway because I had never heard of anything like this happening to a Gateway owner and I figured that if you're going to buy a good computer, you might as well buy a good computer. Dell owners have horror stories, HP's are not much better, I *almost* bought a Mac, but thought that the learning curve of getting used to a Mac while also starting grad school and a new job might be a bit much. If only I had listened to my inner Shaun and just bought a Mac, I could actually take my computer into a store and talk to someone, IN PERSON! What a concept!!

Now you may be thinking, Maria, we know this is bad, but come on? You think technology hates you just because of this one incident? To that, dear readers, I say no. My brand new Dell at work, that was replaced three weeks ago because the only slightly less new Dell that I was using crapped out on me, has been acting possessed as well! I have constant trouble with the image on both monitors, and lately it's taken to flipping to a blue screen after encountering some horriffic error, and then forcing me to reboot. I save my data every 4 seconds, just in case.

In addition to that, I've been having an EXCESSIVE amount of trouble with my cell phone. I upgraded to a Samsung Blackjack in October, which quit working 27 days later. So I exchanged it for a Palm Treo, which then quit working SIX days later. So I had to have that one replaced too!! I'm afraid to even turn on my television or start my car, and I hope my bad luck manages to hold off til I'm done with this post, otherwise I'll obliterate Little Brother's computer too.

Honestly, is my blood magnetized in some mutant way that causes electronic devices to go haywire on me? Do the Powers That Be not understand that I depend on my computer for school?? Where is Yoda when I need him???

I think it's time to breathe and reboot, and hope that when I get my new hard drive in the mail I'll be able to install it.

Sympathy, words of wisdom, and advice are all particularly welcome at this time.

Goofin' Around On Turkey Day

Me, Cameron & Natalie taking a time out from a tickle war to pose for the camera.

The Grand Eye-Opening at the DIA

So the DIA (Detroit Institute of Arts) has been closed since last May and is re-opening to the public this weekend. I decided to buy a membership ($80 gets two adults in for free any time we want for one year, + 10% off at the DIA shop) and so I took my mom last weekend, during the member preview.

Normally I don't like to take a lot of pictures inside museums because I think it's hard to photograph that type of experience, but I just had to include these of the Diego Rivera murals that completely fill all the wallspace in the part of the museum that is now called Rivera Court. Mom went to go find a bathroom and so I got to sit and just start at these for a while. They're pretty amazing. I've been meaning to look up how long it took him to complete them, but I keep forgetting.

Apparently the renovation that the DIA undewent is a bit controversial in the art world. In my humble, non art-expert opinion, they did a fantastic job. The DIA looks beautiful. Plus they incorporated a variety of interative and informational elements to the exhibits, to make it more accessible to the non-expert crowd (such as myself!), and I think that is such a smart idea! The DIA has an incredible collection (including works by Monet, Degas, Cezanne, Cassat, Van Gogh, and many others) and almost no one was visiting the permanent collection. When traffic moved through the DIA it was for special exhibits. Somehow I don't think they'll have that problem anymore.

Check out more about the DIA, and go downtown to see it in person!

Congratulations Matt & Jody!

For Better or Worse

Lately I've been thinking a lot about wedding vows. My uncle skipped out on my aunt and their two kids back in January and has basically been acting like a King sized A-hole ever since. Now he's actually filed for divorce and she needs to get a lawyer. She's been a stay at home mom for the last 18 years, we're all a bit worried about what's going to happen to her and the children. None of us understands how he could do something like this, he's never come off like a King sized A-hole in the last 25 years. I guess people are just full of surprises.

A friend of my mom's has also told us that she caught her husband of 35 years in bed with another woman. He moved out and in with his woman and her three kids, wants a divorce. When she asked him what it was that she had done that was so terrible it warranted him giving up their marriage of 35 years he listed the following things as some of the reasons:

• she's overweight
• she doesn't like to do the same things he likes to do, namely hunt & fish
• she doesn't like to watch the same TV shows

She's told both of their sons, who are now both incredibly pissed at their dad. The oldest of their sons has been a Marine for the last decade and said he will never talk to his father again because of this; he ended up getting divorced a few years ago because his then wife was cheating on him - after only a few years of marriage, and (I'm pretty sure) while he was off fighting for our country somewhere.

Shaun and I have been talking about how we are at a point in our relationship again where we both feel like we could get married someday. We've managed to work our way through a really hard conflict and still come out loving each other like crazy on the other end, I think that's a good sign. After everything that we've gone through, and the thinking I've been doing about my aunt and our family friend, I've been wondering how they were smart enough to include the, "for better or worse," part in the traditional marriage vows? Years of experience in observing marriages I guess. I think that there are way too many young people these days that get married and do not understand the type of commitment that marriage is supposed to be. I never want to give up on the person that I make those promises to, that's why you have to be careful who you choose to dedicate your life to. For better or worse is no small promise.

How Cute Are We?

Kodak Moment!

So this weekend I am in Chicago for Shaun's graduation from Navy boot camp. The collage above shows some pictures from today, including the incredible "Ass Cake" that Kathy T made for him. Complete with daisy insignias on the back pockets, it's HILARIOUS and Shaun loved it. We plan to eat it tomorrow.

We still have one more day to spend with him and it's been an emotional experience, to say the least. He's lost a LOT of weight (as all of you can see from the pictures), and I know he's tired, but he looks fantastic.

Even though I saw him today and get to see him again tomorrow, I miss him SO much! And he can't come home until February because he still has to go to Dallas for his A school. At least he will be able to use the phone and stuff once he gets to Dallas, but it's still hard not to be able to spend time with him and just hang out!

I'll write more later, for now I am tired. MW signing off.

I Love My Sailor

High Infidelity

Adrian Lyne is quickly becoming one of my favorite directors. I've been slowly (very slowly, grad school is crazy) renting his films from Netflix and it's interesting to watch them all so close together. He seems to be drawn to the complex emotions that exist between men and women when sex and love get all mixed up with each other. (It helps that his movies are particularly well cast.) He's directed a lot of popular films (including Flashdance) and I've always loved Indecent Proposal. Two weekends ago I watched 9 1/2 Weeks and tonight I watched Unfaithful.

I'd already seen Unfaithful. I rented it shortly after it came out on video -- I wanted to see if Diane Lane deserved her Oscar nom. Her performance is wonderful, but overall I remember being unimpressed. In fact, I thought it was downright stupid. (I should warn you now, this will contain spoilers. If you haven't seen Unfaithful and want to, stop reading immediately or it will be utterly ruined. Consider yourself warned.) After a second viewing several years later, I find myself of a much different mind.

If you've seen the movie, I suggest skipping to the next paragraph. If you haven't, and you aren't bored with this post already, then read on. The basic premise is that a beautiful, intelligent, bored suburban wife and mother (Lane) initiates a torrid affair with a young, gorgeous, French book dealer living in SoHo (Olivier Martinez - yum!). The husband is played brilliantly by Richard Gere. As her affair spirals further and further out of control, the husband's growing suspicions find him hiring a private detective to follow his wife. Once he has undeniable photographic proof he heads to the lover's apartment and accidentally ends up killing him when he discovers that his wife has given her young lover a gift that he had given to her years before -- a snow globe. He dumps the body in a massive garbage dump. Days pass, he says nothing. She eventually finds the photos from the private detective in his coat pocket a week later, after the police have come to see if she knows where her young lover is, and when she finds the snow globe back in its place on the window sill, she not only knows that her husband knows about the affair, but also that her husband has murdered her lover. The movie ends with husband and wife sitting in their car in front of a police station, contemplating whether to run away to Mexico with their nine year old son or turn themselves in. The viewer is left to guess. I personally think they turn themselves in.

The first time around I disliked the movie because I hated Diane Lane's character. I thought her selfish and foolish and could not for the life of me figure out why she would risk destroying what is depicted as a wonderful marriage -- to a handsome man like Richard Gere at that! I felt like it was her fault that her husband ended up cracking open the young lover's skull with the snow globe, and I wanted her to go to jail. I was mad at the way the movie ended, I thought it let her get away with murder. Upon a second viewing, I still think that she is selfish and foolish, but I feel sorry for her. I still don't know why she does what she does, and maybe I never will (hopefully not!), but she just seems so desperate to feel excited. Excited in a way her husband can't make her feel. I wonder if that is why a lot of married people cheat? Does the sex and the intimacy lose its excitement so much that they look for it elsewhere? No doubt that is the reason for some people. Who knows about the others. Fortunately most of them just end up getting divorced, not committing murder. This is the kind of movie that makes me afraid of marriage. Either way, it's a movie worth renting. I'll be watching it again before I send it back to Netflix!

The New 'Do

So I got my hair cut a few weeks ago. I have bangs now. And it's darker. (It seems to get darker with each successive dye job.) Personally, I *love* it. I've gotten lots and lots of compliments (Jesse calls me Cleopatra), but I'm a little nervous that Shaun won't like it when I see him in a few weeks at his boot camp graduation. He was always like, "Don't ever get bangs!!" But I think he'll like these. My brother in law, Daniel, told me that he thinks it's beautiful, so I just hope Shaun feels the same way! What do you guys think?

Maize & Boo...

So by now everyone on the planet knows that my Wolverines are not having the greatest start to their season. After being upset by a school noone's ever heard of last weekend (Appalachian State...??), they literally had their asses handed to them by Oregon yesterday. For those of you that have been living on another planet the last two weeks, the boys in maize and blue were embarassed at the Big House yesterday, losing 32-7 to the Ducks. The Ducks. Sheesh....

I can hear Nikki and her parents laughing from hundreds of miles away. They certainly aren't the only MSU fans relishing yesterday's shellacking. I'm sure there are a fair amount of Ohio State, Iowa, and Notre Dame fans who are pumped up about it too. All of that is fine, that I can handle, but what I can't handle is all the Michigan fans who are jumping ship! One 'fan' was quoted in this morning's Free Press as saying, "We want Lloyd Carr's head on a platter with an apple in it!" How easily they forget. Michigan has one of the greatest football programs in college sports. They are always a contender for the national title, and when that falls through there's always the Big Ten title (which, by the way, they could still clinch, since neither of these terrible losses came from Big 10 teams). You don't give up on them because of a rocky (OK, very rocky) start! Have a little faith my fellow Wolverines, have a little faith.

Mitch Albom said in this morning's Freep (that's Detroit Free Press for short, to all of you non-Detroiters out there) article that the Wolverines looked worse on the field yesterday than some of the most pathetic Lions games. Now that's pretty bad! But he does not blame it all on Carr, saying that Carr does not deserve the proverbial ax. Instead he focuses on Coach Carr's words after the pathetic excuse for a Michigan football game was over yesterday. I will leave you with the words of two wise men, Lloyd Carr and Mitch Albom. An excerpt from Albom's article:

" '...I've got great kids here. And you don't know me, but those who do... would agree that I'm a tough-minded, competitive guy. ...And there is nothing that can keep me down. Not a loss to Appalachian State. Not a loss to Oregon. Not a hundred losses. And not the loss of my job. ...

'You're probably going to lose a lot of games the next few years. ...When you lose, don't make excuses. ...Just play as hard as you can. And regardless of what the outcome of what of those games are, you keep your head high.'

I think that speaks for itself.

And it is reason enough for people who think he should be fired to be ashamed of themselves. This is college. That speech can teach more than a dozen trophies."

Labor Day BBQ

So tonight Shannon and Daniel and the kids came over for a BBQ. We ate so much food it is ridiculous. Jesse and his girlfriend, Tiffany, and her daughter, Savannah, also came over for a little while. We all had fun running around in the backyard. I think that when I was a kid I took for granted that we have an absolutely HUGE backyard. Not all kids have that. It was fun to chase Joey around, pretending to be too slow to catch him with his short little 5 year old legs. Speaking of Joey, he helped me take the picture below, which I love! Hope everyone has a nice, long weekend. Tomorrow I'm going shopping with Kira. Look out Somerset, here we come!

The Newness

My whole life people have been telling me how smart I am. My parents, teachers, friends, you name it. I was always in the accelerated classes, I always had smart friends, I loved to read and always did my homework. My arch nemeses in elementary school made fun of me for using the word, “flabbergasted.” I cried and my fifth grade teacher told me, “They’re just upset that you know a big word that they don’t know.” That provided a small amount of comfort. More comforting was the fact that I knew that someday I would go to college. Then I would get a great job, for which I would get paid a lot of money, and through which I would help make the world a better place. Ahh, to be young.

When I did finally get to college, I felt like I was supposed to be there, but I didn’t have any idea how to pursue a course of study that would be of concrete value once I graduated. (Read: make me money so that I could eventually pay off the colossal student loans I was racking up.) So I studied English, because I love it, and because I thought it would be enough. My dad was telling me, “You should be an engineer.” My mom was telling me, “You should be a nurse!” But, being allergic to math and squeamish at the sight of other people’s bodily fluids, I never seriously considered either suggestion as a possibility. Funny how if I had done either of those things, which I certainly could have, I would be in a much different place right now.

But those subtle suggestions did make me think more seriously about whatever my future career would eventually be, and so I asked my advisor, “I am a little worried about getting a job once I graduate. I know don’t want to be a teacher. What kind of jobs can I get with this degree?” Then he, like a dutiful advisor to a second semester junior in college, did what he was supposed to do. He told me what I needed to hear to stay on course and graduate on time, “Your degree will be incredibly versatile! You’ll have outstanding communication and writing skills, and that is invaluable in any number of professions.” I, being naïve, thought to myself, OK! My advisor said it’s alright, so that must mean it’s alright. Sigh. And everyone, myself included, thought I was so smart.

Chris once told me how, after he and my parents dropped me off at the airport when I left for Ecuador, that my mom said, “That girl amazes me. She did this all by herself.” When he told me that I was like, “Of course I did! Duh!” My philosophy has always been: If there is something that you want to do with your life, you do it. Go for it now, when you can, otherwise it might end up being something that you’ll regret not having tried for the rest of your life. If it turns out well, then great! If it ends disasterously, like almost all of my romantic endeavors up til this point have, then you will have experiences from which to grow. Either way, win or lose, you don’t ever really lose.

Somehow, after over two years of working an absolutely thankless and intensely stressful job – in which I was using only the most limited parts of my brain – I seemed to forget all about my grand philosophy. Shaun always encouraged me, “Babe, just start looking for a new job! There are jobs to be had in Detroit, no matter what the newspapers say! You’re so smart, you can do it!” But I never did. I was so miserable, and I knew in my heart that he was right, but I just never applied for anything. I made halfass attempts at looking, but of course I never found anything that was, “good enough.” I started thinking about graduate school – which turned out to be a good thing, since I found something I am incredibly excited about – but at first that was just another way to avoid thinking about getting a new job.

And then the shit, as they say, hit the fan. For those of you that don’t know, which is probably most of you, I had a minor meltdown earlier this summer. I found myself having panic attacks – at work in the bathroom, in my car. Never when anyone else was around. At first I didn’t even know what they were. Shaun and I had broken up, I was living back with my parents, my job sucked ass, most of my friends were living elsewhere, everything was basically shit. I quit answering my phone. I started lying to people. I watched an obscene amount of television. Then I got strep throat, and when I went to the doctor I had a total emotional breakdown in her office. She handed me a box of Kleenex, gave me antibiotics for the strep, and antidepressants for the rest of it. I went home and checked myself into therapy.

Then I did the one thing I’d really needed to do from the beginning. I sat down at my computer, dusted off my resume, and sat down to find a new job. Funny how life happens sometimes. The very first job I applied for I ended up getting. And it is A-M-A-Z-I-N-G. For privacy reasons you will see that I will be much more discrete about this job that my previous one, but I now work for the United Way for Southeastern Michigan. My office is right downtown, which is fun (and convenient for school), I work with Kira, and most importantly, I get to use my brain! I leave work every day feeling like I am making Detroit a better community to live in. The job didn’t fall out of the sky into my lap as I imagined it would when I graduated from high school, but it’s mine now and that is the important thing.

So, the newness that is happening in my life right is all good. I have learned a lot about myself and how I handle (and don’t handle) stress in my life. I’ve also realized that, even though I absolutely hated it while I was there, I learned a lot about working in a professional environment while I was at Comcast. I also learned that there is a lot more to life than just making as much money as you can by screwing little old ladies into buying digital cable that they don’t know how to use, and then charging them another $20 that they don’t have to come out and put their TVs back on channel 3.

The Long Goodbye

So Shaun arrived in Chicago tonight to begin his 8 week long stay at boot camp. He was supposed to leave last Thursday, August 23rd, but storms in Chicago prevented that. His departure was then rescheduled to Friday evening, and that flight was canceled because of storms here in Detroit. So then he stayed the weekend (which was fun because he and his fam came to my birthday dinner on Sunday night), and finally left today on a 4 o'clock flight. The whole ordeal was exhausting for me and his family -- we said goodbye on Wednesday night, then again on Thursday night, and then the last goodbye last night, but it was longer for Shaun, who probably spent over 20 hours sitting at Metro Airport over the weekend.

It's odd how they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I feel like the mere anticipation of his absence made my heart grow fonder. It made me realize some things about what has been happening between us lately, the most important one being that I am still crazy in love with him. Another being that I am really, incredibly proud of him for joining the Navy Reserve. Yet another being that he is still the only man that I have ever met that honestly understands me, encourages me, supports me, calls me on my bullshit, makes me laugh, laughs at my dumbass jokes, can talk with me for hours, can shut the hell up with me for hours, loves my family to death, and holds my hand through absolutely everything. And also that while he made some mistakes (as did I), he is learning from those mistakes and genuinely trying to do better, and that is something that not many people can do.

I am going to miss him more than I can say while he is away the next few weeks. I have so much new stuff going on -- new job at United Way for Southeastern Michigan (which is AWESOME!), starting school at Wayne State on September 6th. New people, new places... a lot of things I know I'd love to talk to him about and he'd love to hear about. But then again, this does give me an excuse to write letters. And you guys know how much I love that!

So for now I will just keep my head down, go to work, get ready for school, save my money, and break out the pen and paper to write to my boy while he is busting his ass in boot camp.

Happy 26th to Me

Katie Got Hitched!

Some selected scenes from Katie's nuptials this past Saturday. The ceremony was outside at the Anna Scripps Whitcomb Conservatory on Belle Isle. The reception was held at the Tiger Club at Comerica Park. Katie wore an elegant deep red ball gown and the bridesmaids wore ivory tea length dresses. The day was beautiful, the people were friendly, and the food was awesome. All in all, a great wedding!

Congratulations Katie and Justin, may you have all the happiness in the world!

Nik's Surprise Visit!

Nik, Steph, Linda and I went up to Shield's Restaurant in Southfield where Bobby was hosting an open mic night with some of his friends. He's visiting from Santa Cruz for a week or so. Crazy that I've known Bob since kindergarten! Anyway, took some pics at the bar and thought I'd share them!

My Nephew Turns 5

The Dude Abides

While watching "The Big Lebowski" with my dad the other day I realized that I had kind of forgotten how absolutely HI-LARIOUS it is. I remember going up north to Jetta's cottage in Manistee for MLK Jr. weekend senior year of college and drinking a lot of White Russians. In fact, if I remember correctly, there was one point when Alyssa walked into the kitchen and uttered this exact sentence:

"I think I'll have a glass of water.... Or a White Russian."

I think it was about 11 AM at that point. She chose a White Russian.

My favorite part of the movie is near the end, when their buddy has died of a heart attack and been cremated. (Haha, I just read that sentence back, and it sounds terrible, that my favorite part is when a guy dies, but hey, that's how it came out so I'm leaving it!) They take the coffee can full of his ashes up to a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, and after waxing poetic in a eulogy that unneccessarily contains a ton of stuff about Vietnam, they throw his ashes off the cliff -- and the wind blows them right back into The Dude's face. To me, it is one of the purest moments of comedic genius ever captured on film.

The Dude abides, and so do I. Long live Lebowski!

Katie's Bachelorette Celebration

And then some!

Amazing Art

Watch this video first and then check out his new link at the right. Phil Hansen is incredible and his website is worth exploring. You will not be sorry. I promise.

Thanks Mom.

Technology Overload

So in the past few days I've gotten my new computer and my new digital camera in the mail, and I just cannot stop playing around with them! (Add my iPod into the mix, and it's full on technology overload.) I'd forgotten how nice it is to have my own computer, and boy is it a nice computer! I'm also looking forward to having some great opportunities to use the camera, but I need to buy a bigger memory card for it so that it will hold more pictures.

Tonight I went to a meeting of the Southfield Historical Society with Steph and her mom. I've lived here all my life and never knew that Southfield had an historical society, and its very own history museum. There was some interesting stuff in the museum too, including some school registers from 1895 that Steph and I had a good time looking through. Orthography was listed as a subject, and I had no idea what that was until Steph's mom told us that it's the study of handwriting. Which probably explains why every page in the book looked like it had been written by a calligrapher.

Maybe the next post will contain pictures. For now I'm gonna go back to playing around with my brand spanking new computer!

Stopping Traffic

On my way home from a recent trip downtown I found myself heading north on I-75. About a mile and a half from the exit to 696, I began to merge over to the right hand lanes. (Both of the two right lanes exit to 696, the far one goes east, the near one goes west, I was in the near lane.) To my right there was a guy in a pickup truck -- shirtless, muscled, tan, and wearing an actual cowboy hat. Although I couldn't hear the radio, I'd bet my two front teeth he was listening to Travis Tritt.

At first I thought he was motioning to me to see if I still needed to get over into the far right lane, but, upon closer inspection, it turned out that he was actually making horrible lewd gestures at me. Sticking out his tongue, blowing me kisses, and even pointing at his lap! Not wishing to encourage him, I returned my attention to the road and kept both hands on the wheel while looking straight ahead. I was still aware of him in my peripheral vision, but he was going east and I was going west and that would be the end of it as soon as we hit our exits.

All this while the entrance to 696 is rapidly approaching. I notice that the traffic on the exit ramps is slowing down, significantly, so I do the same. Cowboy over to my right failed to notice this, because he was still blowing me kisses, and of course he flew by me and slammed into the rear end of a poor, unsuspecting gentleman in a Saturn -- who looked thoroughly displeased when I drove by, jaw agape, seconds later.

Cowboy did notice at the last second that he was going to hit someone, and had laid on his brakes pretty good, but I estimate that he was still going about 50-55 mph when he hit the Saturn. Totaled the back of that poor man's car. Probably caused a major back up on the exit ramp (since that is a busy area of the highway, at any time of day, let alone late afternoon on a weekday). And all for what? To try to get some play from a strange girl in a separate vehicle while going 70 mph on the interstate. I was reminded of something my mom once said when a similar situation (minus the accident) occurred while we were in the car together: she looked over at the trucker who was gesticulating in her direction and said, "Give it up man, we'll never meet!" Then I accelerated and we left him behind us.

Who Gets Summoned for Jury Duty on Her Birthday??

Me. That's who. What a way to celebrate #26. BOO!

RGB

So a. margarita tagged me as a Rockin' Girl Blogger and I must pass the torch to 5 other girl bloggers, except that I only have 4, and one of them is a. margarita. I will add a fifth when I find one. Here's my list, in no particular order:

1. a. margarita
2. Aubs
3. Nik
4. Leah


Ladies, now it's your turn to tag some other kickass girl bloggers. Spread the love!

Homeslice

I gotta say, I miss my homeslice Nikki. (Do we not look super cute in this picture? That's a rhetorical question by the way, no comments necessary.) This was before going to Memphis Smoke on Friday, where we were hit on by some really ridiculous men in their mid 40s -- I mean, seriously -- and then we went with Linda to a midnight screening of The Goonies at the Royal Oak Main Art Theater. That movie was always funny when I was a kid, but it was even better with a mild buzz going .

I am fortunate enough to have some AMAZING women in my life as friends. Unfortunately for me, most of them no longer live in Michigan, but whenever we do get in a chat or a visit, it always feels like no time has passed. It's empowering to have such awesome women as my friends. They inspire me to be strong, be smart, take chances, stand up for myself, and learn from my mistakes. I know that with all of my friends I can really be myself -- honest-to-goodness, occasional goofball, non sotto voce, cries at sappy movies, strange toed, always 10 minutes tardy Maria.

I Love Dane Cook!

Dane Cook.

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What's A 20 Something Girl To Do?

I've decided to let the stress go. I spend entirely too much time stressing about my job that I dislike, my student loans, my future... stuff like that. I'm done. If I don't get a job that I actually like by the time that school starts then I am going to quit and become a full time student. I can defer my loans and still make payments on them, so I won't have to worry about that. And as far as The Future goes, I can't control it, so it's better to just let it be. Hanging out with Steph and The Bridesmaid's yesterday, talking about life, I noticed a recurring theme. It may be cliche, but everything happens for a reason. You may not know exactly what the reason is at that very moment, but your old friend The Future will eventually roll around to clear it up for you.

We also discussed change quite a bit. Specifically, how people change, and, more specifically, how women try to change their men and when that is and is not OK. For example, we concluded that it is acceptable to try to break your husband's habit of picking his nose and wiping his boogers on the edge of the driver's seat in your brand new car. That's a good change to encourage. But the fundamental things, morals, religion, politics, responsibility, whether or not he is just a total slob -- things like that are pretty fixed. And if you do try to change something major, what happens if you change something else unintentionally? People change constantly, for good and bad reasons, but usually the changes that turn out to be improvements are those that came from within. You change because you want to, and that is probably something that will actually last.

Right now I am in a place where a person that I love, very much, is trying to effect a big change in his life. I believe in him, and I want to encourage him because I think he's doing it for the right reasons, but I don't know how much I believe that it's going to last forever. Part of me feels like a bitch for having that doubt, but that doubt is honest, and I always prefer honesty. The only experience that I can speak from is my own, and I know that when I've come to those few monumental transitions in my life that I've changed in ways I never could have predicted. Even relationships that I thought were stable and strong before leaving ended up cracked and broken after coming home.

That is a situation that is going to require much more thought. I just had to get Paris Hilton off the top of my page. I sincerely apologize that I left her up there as long as I did. My occasional schadenfreude sometimes gets the better of me. It's like doubt in that way.

Stupid Spoiled Attention Whore

First of all, let me say that I thought long and hard about whether or not to write this post. I'll warn you right now, it's about Paris Hilton. I apologize in advance.

I despise Paris Hilton. I know it's wrong to judge, and I've never met her and blah, blah, blah, but, God, I am sorry, I think that she is basically a worthless, money grubbing, heinous be-otch. (Or, as Matt would perhaps say, a vapid screech owl. Ha! I just love that.) I hate how much air time on so called 'serious' news channels (CNN, what is up? Come on!) is devoted to her retarded ass. Part of me really wants to ignore it, and pay her less that no attention at all, since even bad publicity is still publicity. But another part of me gets so much joy out of watching her spoiled sex-tape-leaking ass get what she deserves that I just cannot help myself.

Last night Comedy Central aired one of my favorite episodes of South Park in honor of Paris and her current debacle. For those who haven't seen it, Paris comes to South Park for the grand opening of her new store at the mall, called Stupid Spoiled Whore, and madness ensues. She pays Butters' parents $250 million to have him as a pet and is ultimately challenged to a Whore Off versus Mr. Slave, who sucks her into his anal cavity just to prove he's a bigger whore than she is. It's a tremendously entertaining half hour of animated wonderfulness.

We keep the news on at work, on mute of course, lest Big Brother hear us and come running, and I cannot describe the joy I felt when I saw the headlines that she was headed back to jail. That judge in California single handedly restored my faith in the American legal system. With this one act he has told the world that you just cannot buy your way out of jail! (Of course, I know there are probably still a ton of people who do, but the fact that she just cannot get out of this is fantastic.)

If a regular old ordinary American had done what she did (which was get caught driving twice on a license which was suspended because of her drinking and driving) they would certainly be facing a similar penalty, if not worse. She already paid a $1,500 fine, which to most people would be a strong enough deterrent to get them in line, but Paris probably wipes her ass with $1,500 three times a day, so it's no wonder it didn't make an impact! Clearly, an impact is being made now.

I love that this alleged medical condition she has is what her attorney is trying to leverage as a reason she can't remain incarcerated. Supposedly she had a nervous breakdown. Imagine what would have happened if she'd actually received the body/cavity search that all other inmates are subjected to upon entering prison. She could have tried to smuggle her Sidekick or some mascara in up her ass -- probably not as effectively as say, oh, Mr. Slave, but she could have. So I don't buy the whole nervous breakdown thing. You don't think there are people in jail with actual, real medical conditions -- like heart disease, cancer, diabetes, HIV, fill-in-the-blank?? There are prison hospitals and infirmaries and doctors and counselors to help inmates with any manner of problems. It's what our taxes pay for.


I think Martha Stewart ought to give the Hiltons a call and tell them that the ridiculous behavior that got their daughter into this mess in the first place is not a Good Thing, and her even more ridiculous behavior now is even worse. She needs to suck it up and shut it up and just do her 45 days. Maybe she should try to make the best of it and get, like, a super sexy prison tat while she's in there. I know what it could say, right across her ass: "That's Hot."

Guilty Pleasures

Sometimes in life you just need your guilty pleasures. Like eating a candy bar and drinking a gimungous glass of Coca-Cola at the same time. (So, so bad for your teeth, but good for the following sugar buzz.) I myself make it a point to indulge in guilty pleasures whenever possible, within reason, of course. For example, I find myself strangely drawn to movies starring Amanda Bynes. I mean seriously though, how can you not love this girl?? ------------------------------->

I also occasionally delight in the misfortunes of other people, like Paris Hilton. (Don't even get me started on how she bought her way out of prison. Disgusting. If anyone needed to get shanked in prison it was freaking Paris Hilton. Oh well, I will have to learn to live with disappointment I guess.)

Sometimes I enjoy kissing boys with fierce tattoos who I know I will never see again. I am *obsessed* with Showtime's mini series The Tudors, starring dreamy Irish boy Jonathan Rhys Meyers. Oooh, yummy! Other times I like to laugh obnoxiously loud at wholly inappropriate times, like when Brad Pitt's character in Meet Joe Black got hit by a car because he was standing in the middle of the street like a complete jackass. Yup, that was me that laughed so hard I snorted frozen Coke through my nose. (I was eating chocolate at the same time too, a double whammy!)

My point is, sometimes you just need to live a little. Go ahead, you know you want to go rent She's The Man. It's cool. I promise I won't tell.

Catch $22,000

Part of me hates having Monday off because pretty much everyone else in my life is at work. That leaves me a day by myself, which sometimes, like today, is fantastic, and other times is not so fantastic. Today was great because I got so much stuff done. I registered for class in the fall and made an appointment with my new advisor. I called around and got a couple of quotes on computers (it's gonna cost me at least $1600, easy). Read my new issue of The Progressive from cover to cover, and a couple articles from The New York Times that I missed yesterday. And then I did something I have been putting off for months. I actually called all of the companies that have been sending me offers to consolidate my student loans to see what kind of terms they could offer me.

Turns out, they're not so great. Half of the offers are companies which only consolidate federal loans -- which does me no good since my federal loans are already consolidated. The other half wanted to lower my payment by extending the term of my loan from 20 to 30 years, but at a higher interest rate, which might be helpful in the short term, but screws me in the long term. So here I sit, stuck until I can improve my credit just a little bit more and consolidate with Citibank. The bastards. I'm caught in a Catch $22,000. Well, it's actually $27,000, but what's five grand between friends?

I think it may be time to sign up for some overtime at work. As much as I truly, truly hate having to do that, a $1600 laptop isn't going to fall from the heavens, no matter how hard I pray. And I will have to pay my tuition up front, and then wait for the reimbursement. (You know, for all my complaining about my actual job, I gotta give it up for that benefit. Education reimbursement gets 2 thumbs up in my book.) But it's cool. I've don't have much else to do this summer, all my vacation time is gone anyway. Might as well make a little money.

Grad School Here I Come!

I am happy to share with all my lovely readers that I was accepted to Wayne State University's Graduate School today. I will begin work on my Master's in Library and Information Science in September. Woo hoo! I pretty much knew that I was going to get in, but it still felt great to see the, "Congratulations!" at the top of the letter.

This means that I am going to have to save my pennies this summer to pay my tuition in the fall, and I also have to buy a computer (yay!). I've been wanting to buy a computer for a while, I just couldn't justify the expense, but now I have a great reason to get a brand spanking new one!

Other than that, things have been pretty chill. Memorial Day weekend was nice, except that I had to work all day last Friday and Saturday. Sunday I went to the Tigers game with Kira and Jeff and a bunch of his *super cute* rugby buddies. (Seriously -- super, super cute. Rowdy, but very cute.) I told Kira that more of that needs to happen this summer, it's so much fun hanging out with her, and because she was in Kalamazoo for so long I feel like we got used to not being able to see each other very often, but that is a non issue now! So tomorrow we are going shoe shopping.

On Memorial Day Steph and I took our booties out to Kensington and walked the 8 mile loop around the park. I still cannot figure out why I thought that was a good idea. In sandals no less, with a hangover. Sometimes I am such an idiot I amaze myself. My legs hurt for two days afterwards, but I think they've finally forgiven me. It was nice to just hang with Steph though, and it was a BEAUTIFUL day. Days like that are why I love Michigan.

So yea, pretty chill. I have a much needed day off tomorrow and then this weekend is Linda's birthday, the proper celebrations will accompany the event on Saturday night and Sunday afternoon. I think we are going to go to Ann Arbor on Saturday with some of her friends, which should be interesting because I haven't gone out in Ann Arbor since the summer of 2003 after we all graduated. I'm pretty sure that my favorite bar (Mitch's, what??) doesn't exist anymore, but I am sure we'll have fun. A2 is always a good time. Maybe I'll have some cute pictures to post soon.

Til then, my dear readers, this will have to suffice. Toodles.

Music and Movies and What I Want in a Man

So I thought the blog was getting a little boring without pictures. I found this one of me and my dad on a bookshelf in my parents' room. My hair looks red... wish I still had curls like that. On the back my mom wrote, "Winter 1982, Southfield," which means I was probably a little over one year old. Dad still looks the same, only now all his hair is grey.

Lately I've been listening to a lot of music and watching a lot of movies and trying to figure out what exactly I might want in a man. 1 and 2 are generally easier to deal with. I've had "De Stijl" (The White Stripes) and Joss Stone's new one on repeat for the last two days. Both are worth purchasing immediately, if you like that kind of thing.

As for movies, I watched "Strange Days" (Ralph Fiennes, Juliette Lewis, Angela Bassett), "The Tesseract" (Jonathan Rhys Meyers, yum!), "Domino" (Keira Knightly, and not nearly as terrible as everyone made it out to be), and "Reality Bites" (twice). Throw in many, many episodes of Sex and the City, both from HBO On Demand and from the DVDs I snagged from Kira's house last weekend, and the 4 newspapers I read from front to back on Sunday and Monday, and you've pretty much got my weekend all wrapped up.

As for the whole man issue, I think I've decided that I need to just be solo for awhile. My love life is such a disaster area it should have giant orange construction barrels around it -- complete with the flashing lights on top. For now I am just going to concentrate on saving my money, kicking it with the homies, and having a good summer. I'm hoping that everything else will just figure itself out. Wish me luck, eh?

Rollercoaster

I'm almost afraid to write this for fear of all the groans of, "Oh Maria!" that are sure to be uttered, but here goes nothing. Shaun and I broke up. Again.

I've got my defense mechanisms working overtime on this one. I make jokes, I shrug off questions. I'm really just trying not to think about it at all. It took me a month to stop crying before, and I am determined not to start again.

At this point I am mostly just disappointed and sad. I've never had as much fun as I did with him, never loved someone that much, never imagined my life stretching out before me alongside someone else's - not the way I did with Shaun. And now it's all a big pile of shite. Well, certainly not all of it, but it's hard to think about the good parts because then I think about how they're gone, and that's just not a good path to start going down right now.

Someone please tell me how it is that I have managed to totally f*ck up every single relationship I've ever been in? Something happens and I slowly, painfully, achingly start to fall out of love. And then the shit hits the fan. Sometimes over and over again.

Part of me wishes that I could just forget about everything that happened between us and forgive him (and myself) for all of it. But I can't. And the fact that I can't upsets me, because if you love a person enough, you should be able to forgive them for just about anything when you know that they truly are sorry.

*sigh*

This is more difficult to write about than I thought it would be. Although, I guess it does go exactly against my primary defense strategy of Just Don't Think About It!

For once I'll take my own advise and just shut the hell up.

More when I'm not driving myself absolutely crazy.

Shameless Plug

Listen up party people. My cousin Elliot is in a band called The Peasantry. They have a song in a contest and if it wins they'll get $5,000!! Go here and select "Student Films Across America" by The Peasantry to vote for his song.

Oh and P.S., not that this is even possible, but even if you like one of the other songs more, (pshaw, like that could happen!) I don't care, still vote for him!!

Hodge Podge

It's a long way to the top if you want to rock n' roll. Or at least that what AC/DC tell us.

I forgot how great a sunny Sunday morning with fried eggs, WCSX Over Easy, and the Sunday New York Times is. Well, actually, I didn't forget, it's just that today I am enjoying it more than usual.

In fact just a few minutes ago I read about this guy who finds both interesting and not-so-interesting pieces of trash and puts them into little clear plastic ball shaped capsules, then loads up little 25 cent cheap-o junk machines with them. He has a blog, lovingly described as, "A destination website for chumps, rubes, maroons, clods, saps, schlemiels, and yo-yos," which, if you can find nothing else worth admiration, is great because I finally learned how to spell schlemiel. Check out Trashball.

Still awaiting the response on my application for admission the Library and Information Science program at Wayne State.

Decided that tomorrow I am going to resume the guitar lessons I started in college. Woo hoo!

Jesse is now the wealthiest member of our family. Who'd have thunk it?

Brian and Steph are now engaged, yay!

And, last but definitely not least, Shaun and I are back together. We still have a lot of stuff to work out, but I think we can do it.Now I am going to break out my bicycle and see if it's really true that once you've learned you never forget.

Peace out homies.

Odessa On The Verge

Odessa is a little girl who lives in my imagination. Sometimes I think of sentences that involve her. Sentences like, "Odessa was delicate, even for an eight year old. She was small of frame with large, dark eyes, like her mother. She came to live with Ninny when she was only two, after her mother died. When she was five, Ninny gave her a box made of gold paper, shaped like a star. Odessa took the box into her little room and put the only photograph she had of her mother into the box and placed the lid on it, and there it has stayed, quiet and safe, ever since. Now, Odessa collects boxes."

And that's where it stops. I don't really know why Odessa collects boxes, but I know that she lives in Kentucky, has an older brother with leukemia, has a father that's in jail for killing their mother, and that someone eventually needs to ask him (the father) if he will be tested as a possible bone marrow donor for her brother. But like I said before, I just get a couple of sentences every now and then. Like right after I've taken a shower and I'm sitting on the edge of the tub with my towels wrapped around me. Which is not a very convenient time to whip out the keyboard and start writing them down. So the sentences go away, and revisit me again at other times, when I am bored or lonely or reading the label on the side of a cereal box while chewing. I have had her in my head for so long now that Odessa is a friend. I think maybe I'd like to keep her in my head.

This is the part where I think about not answering my phone for awhile. Where I wonder if maybe I am on the edge of a not-quite-mid-life crisis. Where I think about how I would like to live in a loft downtown and everyone in my life, without a single exception, tells me that it is a stupid idea, that it is unnecessarily dangerous, and that my car insurance premium will skyrocket. I feel like telling them all to take a flying leap off a tall building. Except that if they did, I would be an orphan, without any family or friends. And then it wouldn't matter where I lived, because life would be miserable no matter what.

But I digress.

I am restless, which is the root of all of this. I have a job that I despise, but that I hope I will be able to suffer through just long enough to get graduate school paid for, so that I can then get a job that I actually like. (Nikki sent me info about an organization that builds libraries in Central and South America. I'd like to do that.) I still think about joining the Peace Corps too. But then my feminine biology kicks in, and so does the math. 25 + 3 years of graduate school + 1 additional year at work to fulfill my commitment to them for paying for graduate school + 2 years, 4 months of the Peace Corps = 31. Then I still have to find my dream job, get married, make a baby (or two), buy a house (not necessarily in that order), which I figure puts me at about 50. At which point I have the mid life crisis that's been pre-empted by whatever the hell it is I'm going through now.

I get so exhausted thinking about all of that -- not to mention the daily dose of stress I give myself from thinking about how the hell our stupid government is going to fix the Iraq mess, hopefully before my kid brother gets sent there; not to mention finding a way to provide affordable, accessible, health care for all Americans, oh, and fixing global warming -- that I think I'd just rather sit in my towels on the side of my tub and think up some more sentences about my little friend Odessa.

Did I mention she collects boxes?

That Silent Evening

by Galway Kinnell

I will go back to that silent evening
when we lay together and talked in low, silent voices,
while outside slow lumps of soft snow
fell, hushing as they got near the ground,
with a fire in the room, in which centuries
of tree went up in continuous ghost-giving-up,
without a crackle, into morning light.
Not until what hastens went slower did we sleep.
When we got home we turned and looked back
at our tracks twining out of the woods,
where the branches we brushed against let fall
puffs of sparkling snow, quickly, in silence,
like stolen kisses, and where the scritch scritch scritch
among the trees, which is the sound that dies
inside the sparks from the wedge when the sledge
hits it off center telling everything inside
it is fire, jumped to a black branch, puffed up
but without arms and so to our eyes lonesome,
and yet also - how could we know this? - happy!
in shape of chickadee. Lying still in snow,
not iron-willed, like railroad tracks, willing
not to meet until heaven, but here and there
making slubby kissing stops in the field,
our tracks wobble across the snow their long scratch.
Everything that happens here is really little more,
if even that, than a scratch, too. Words, in our mouths,
are almost ready, already, to bandage the one
whom the scritch scritch scritch, meaning if how when
we might lose each other, scratches scratches scratches
from this moment to that. Then I will go back
to that silent evening, when the past just managed
to overlap the future, if only by a trace,
and the light doubles and shines
through the dark the sparkling that heavens the earth.

Gravity

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The Crying Game

Honestly, does a person ever reach a point where they just can't cry anymore? Each day I tell myself Ok that was really it, I'm done crying about this. But then I talk to him about the Consumer's Energy bill and the waterworks start right back up again. I wish that I could stop, but it just wells up from somewhere deep down and comes flooding out my eyes.

I've become a blubbering version of myself.

As if that weren't enough, I've somehow managed to catch a truly awful cold that has my sinuses in so much pain my right eye just kind of waters all on its own and I constantly feel like I was recently punched in the face. That blissful moment that happens every four hours or so when my Sudafed kicks in is all for naught when my phone rings.

I told him that I think it will get easier once we are able to talk to each other and not have to say things like, "No really, you keep the alarm clock, you'll use the radio setting," and, "The cable will be out of my name by Friday, if you want to call and order your own." The truth is, I don't really know if it will get easier. If I ever go to visit him in that apartment I'll cry. Every time I climb into our bed by myself I'll be sad. I find it difficult to think about him and not feel bitter disappointment rising in my chest.

I wonder about the possibility of us working things out. I wonder how long that might take. I wonder if I will find someone else. Or if someone else will find me. I am doubting and hoping for both of those things at the same time.

But to do any of that, well, that might actually require me leaving the house to do something besides go to work.

Tomorrow I go to pack up my things. Sunday the U-Haul will come to drive them all away. Maybe that will be the end. Maybe not.

I hope not.

The Runner Up

While not the competitive person I used to be, I still don’t like 2^nd place. Third I can deal with; “Top Three” sounds good, like an exclusive club you belong to, but 2^nd place is just plain not good enough to be 1^st.

In life, actions will often speak louder than words. Tonight, I got stood up for hundreds of strangers. I got stood up so Shaun could go to a Texas Hold ‘Em tournament at the Greektown Casino. Tonight I came in second place to poker. The volume of his actions has reached a deafening roar. Granted, he did only pay $5 to enter the drawing to win a seat in the tournament, but I think we all know that the likelihood of him winning the grand prize out of hundreds of entrants was pretty slim. I, however, was at least offered a consolation prize called, “Well We Can Hang Out After,” but I turned it down.

After everything that’s happened, after talking about trying to work on things, after him talking about being more responsible – wanting me to feel like I can depend on him to make the right choice when it all comes down to it – I get stood up for a card game.

And maybe all we were gonna do was sit on the couch and watch some funny TV and play with the cats; maybe we just would have laughed and enjoyed each other’s company and taken another small step toward figuring out this terrible mess we got ourselves into, but God dammit that sounds a lot better to me than a room full of strangers trying to take my money.

So he can get mad at me all he wants, and he can say that I don’t support him, but I will not apologize for not supporting a gambling habit. I've seen it ruin people, good people, people you would never have thought would flush away their kids' college savings, and then ante up and head back for more.

For now I will just sit here, in the house I grew up in, listening to the John Mayer Trio on Dad's gigantic headphones, and I will try to stop the tears once again in this short span of days.

Gravity ... is working against me.... Just keep me where the light is....

My New Favorite Website

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Happy Un-Valentine's Day

Raise your hand if you've ever seen Disney's animated classic, "Alice in Wonderland." Ah, many of you, I thought so. Well, remember the Un-Birthday song that Alice sings with the Mad Hatter? In the spirit of the Un-Birthday I'm creating Un-Valentine's Day. We'll have 364 Un-Valentine's Days to celebrate every year, and that is way better than the completed shitty actual Valentine's Day that I'm about to have tomorrow.

What happens when you break up 2 days before V-Day? I'll tell you. You throw some shit in a bag & drive to your parents' house, because, even though you are 25 years old, you know that you will always be able to wake them up at 2:30 AM in tears without totally pissing them off. The next morning you wake up and while brushing your teeth you try to figure out how you're going to get all your stuff out of the apartment. You skillfully avoid looking your dad and brother in the eye because they'll be giving you that awkward, I love you but I just don't know what to say! look. That is the last look you need right now. Then you'll drive to work, eating a pear, listening to Beethoven's 7th Symphony.

Once you arrive at work you will avoid, avoid, avoid (like the plague!) that horrible question, "Hey, how are you?" You will want to say something like, "Well actually everything is total crap, and I'm feeling a bit heartbroken and miserable. But how are you?" But instead you say, "Fine," and keep walking. You will sit down at your desk and remove the multiple and adorable pictures of him from their various frames. You will wimp out and shove them into the back of a drawer instead of just throwing them away, you know -- just in case. Deep down though, you know that there will be no just in case, not this time.

The moment you realize that a person you thought could be The One is not, in fact, The One, it feels like someone has just drained all the blood from your heart. I think the worst part about all of this is how utterly disappointed I am that I didn't realize all of this much, much sooner. Especially before I signed a lease on an apartment and stupidly put every single utility bill in my name. Now, instead of a clean break from which we might both be able to heal, there are loose ends that need to be tied up, messy conversations that need to be had. I know that instead of this being the end of the frustration and tears and bitter disappointment, it's going to be the beginning of something worse.

He made some big mistakes, and then he made some more, and for a while I stood by him, but everyone has a point. I just couldn't forgive him. I just couldn't forget. I've become an overanalytical, judgemental bitch -- a shadow of my former self -- and I know that's not my nature. I have become a person I hate, and I can't possible expect him to endure that indefinitely. Like I said, everyone has a point. Even though I'm unhappy with my behavior and feel like I've tried to change, I just can't stop. That nagging thought that this is all his fault in the first place!, if he could've just been more responsible times X, Y, & Z!, creeps back into my brain when I least expect it. I don't want to keep him at arm's length anymore and at this point I don't think the way I feel will change for a long, long time -- if it ever does -- and that is just too long to try to go on living with each other every day. I feel like it is impossible for us to ever be the way we used to be, as close as we used to be. And that's that.

So there it is my dear reader. Maria at the end of yet another failed relationship.

Happy Un-Valentine's Day.

RHCP

So last night Nik and I went to go see the Red Hot Chili Peppers at the Verizon Center here in D.C. This is my third time seeing the Peppers and I must say that while they sounded great, this show lacked the energy of the others. They played a lot of songs from the new album, which I was excited about because I ADORE it, but they took long pauses in between songs and didn't play much from their earlier albums (nothing from One Hot Minute, much to Nikki's dismay). Nik and I decided that Anthony Kiedis must not have been feeling 100%. He was drinking a ton of water, leaving stage between songs, and on the close up shots of his face on the gigantic screens we could see huge bags under his eyes. Flea and John Frusciante jammed out quite a bit though, and I think I am ready to announce that John Frusciante might be my new all time favorite rock guitarist. To Jack White and Mike McCready I apologize, I still love you guys, honestly, it's not you.... it's me... well actually it's Johnny, he is just AMAZING! Sorry, I just get carried away with myself... it's his guitar solos, I can't resist them! And his lips... and the long rocker hair.... *sigh* I just hope he and the rest of the boys make sure they stay off the heroin. While some artists are arguably better while drug-addicted (ahem, Scott Weiland), some artists are incredible no matter what, and it'd be nice to see the Chili Peppers still putting out great albums and putting on great shows for a long time to come.

My Moral Opposition to the Child Leash

While waiting near the baggage claim at Reagan National Airport in Washington D.C. last night I saw something that has always baffled and disturbed me: a mother walking her toddler on a child leash. Now, to those of you who have never actually witnessed a child leash situation in action, I am sure you can still understand the basics of it. Imagine a dog being walked by its owner and then substitute a child for the dog.

There are several sad and terrible things about the child leash. First -- and in no particular order of importance, I leave that to you to judge for yourself, my dear reader -- there is the laziness of the mother. The woman in the airport last night, for example, was carrying nothing but a simple purse. Through my powers of observation I discerned that she was not there to pick up luggage, she was there to meet someone else, who incidentally picked up all of his luggage and carried it himself, leaving her with nothing but the aforementioned purse and leashed toddler. How hard is it to hold your three year old's hand in a public place?? Or just pick him up and carry him?? I suppose it's possible that she just recently had surgery on her spine and consequently is unable to pick up the child, but somehow I doubt that. She moved easily, without the complication and discomfort of a surgical wound that is still tender and healing. I also know from experience that if the child is particularly small it can be difficult to hold their hand, since the distance from the bottom of your arm is still so far away from theirs -- even when it is outstretched. I assure you, that was not the case last night as the toddler was plenty tall.

The second thing I dislike about the child leash is harder to explain, so I am going to use an example. I would tell you to close your eyes to facilitate the imagining of this next scenario, but I don't know many people who can read with their eyes closed. So just picture a young mother walking down the street with her harnassed toddler. They come to a stop sign and find themselves next to a man who is walking his dog. The toddler looks over at the dog at his eye level and recognizes the parallel between himself and the pup, and BAM! He just equated himself with a dog. Imagine how emotionally scarred he will be for the rest of his life! It's all bad from that point on.

My final objection to the child leash is simply that it just looks bad. Plain and simple, it's just tacky. Get a stroller for God's sake. Or a babysitter to stay at home with the tot. Just in case you don't believe me, I have included some pictures for your viewing pleasure.