No time! No time!

Hey, hi, howareya?

Hey, hi, kindabusythanks.

Let's cover some of the basics super real quick:

Wedding was fabu. I looked super cute, thanks for all your help with the dress. Photos coming later this week when I have time to sort through and edit the 200+ pictures I took. But before I do that I have to sort through and edit the 200+ photos I took for Slaymo.

And I have stories about, oh, everything. But as usual, I'm flying around like crazy. Sit tight, yeah?

Cancellation

Renee sent me an email this morning with the subject line "Americans Are Stupid."

She's not wrong. CBS just cancelled Creature Comforts, you see.

I don't know what else to say about this, other than it sucks. And yes, I had a vested interest in the show since I know someone who provided one of the voices, but I can honestly say I probably would have watched it anyway since I love all things Aardman and I watch the British series on BBC America whenever I see it on. So essentially, this blows. And Americans just don't know what's good for them.

And CBS? You can't see it, but I am sticking my tongue out at you and blowing a giant raspberry. Thwwwwwwppppppt!

To the folks at Aardman: You guys are aces, and I think you should continue releasing the episodes online. And please tell me there'll be a DVD?

To EditorPenguin: Email me. I have about a million questions for you.

Wedding Bell Blues

My friend and coworker Tom is getting married on Sunday. This is not why I am blue. I'm actually quite the opposite of blue (Red? Green?) and am quite stoked for him as he is marrying a lovely girl who is the perfect lid to his pot, or whatever. Also, I am probably more excited than most since I've known Tom the longest and seeing him get married is just...well, let's just say it involves lots of school girl giggles behind cupped hands and mentally singing Tom and Diane sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G. Also, after their first date Tom came to talk to me about it and I called right then and there that they would get married, no matter how much Tom insisted he "wasn't thinking like that" and "wanted to take things slow". Whatever, dude. My spidey sense knew what was up.

The reason I'm blue has to do more with the fact that I am going to the wedding and therefore need to buy a dress. Gentlemen, you are at your leisure. Ladies, settle in, because I need your help.

For months now I've been eyeing this dress at Torrid. But knowing my past history with Torrid dresses, I knew I couldn't just order it online, I needed to go to the store and try it on. Stupidly, the closest Torrid is in the Montgomery Mall (Seriously, KOP, you have eleventy thousand other stores but you can't get a Fat-Girl Hot Topic [tm Renee]? Get on it) so I have to carve out time to go there, and I'm a busy girl, yadda yadda yadda.

I went shopping last night. Sadly I had to go alone as Renee had GRE work to do (good luck, you're going to do fine 'cuz you're a smartie!) and Kelly was having dinner with former coworkers, and let me just tell you -- I am never going dress shopping alone ever again. Because that? Was fucking traumatic. Boys are so lucky. Trousers, shirt, tie aaaaaaaand done! Girls? Dress, shoes, stockings, jewelry, shawl, purse, special panties, special bra, make up stuff, hair stuff. It just goes on and on.

Anyway, the expedition didn't start out well since they didn't have the dress I wanted in my size.

(And another thing! Let's talk about how much sizes suck for women. Like, guys need to know your waist and inside leg, and generally across the board those numbers work for you in any store. Girls? Not so. For example, if I'm shopping in say, Target, I usually have to wear an 18. But in Macy's I'm more of a 20 since Macy's is deranged. At JC Penny last night, however, I fit into a 16. And at H&M I can sometimes wear a 14 on the bottom, but since I have breasts I need an XL on top. Although I have a corset from H&M that's a 12, so good luck figuring that shit out. This is why I fucking hate shopping)

At Torrid I usually wear a 14, sometimes a 12 depending on the bust line (Torrid is the only store that manages to make me feel flat chested, which is REALLY saying something). That cute black and red dress I linked to? Only had a 16. And the 16 fit me, sort of, but there was a hell of a lot of fabric in the sleeves and some weird froofy fabric at the waist going on. This dress was a strong contender for awhile, but again, the bust line was a problem.

Long story short, I tried on every dress in the store. Bless those sales attendants, bless them.

I ended up getting this dress. But I'm not sold on it completely. It's white, which is kind of a no-no, although the blue print might cancel that out. More importantly, it's a tube dress, which I don't do. For one, I have broad shoulders and I look like a line backer. Second, I'm just not all that comfortable with tube anythings. It's just not me. And I'm worried that it looks too casual.

But it was by far the dress that looked best on me, so I bought it.

I brought it to work today and the committee approved it, provided that I don't fidget with the top too much. I have a tendency to tug it up and smooth it down a lot, since I'm not used to wearing this style. Kelly gets the final veto power tonight, although I am rapidly running out of time and may end up attending this wedding in my bathrobe. I can do that, right?

Ugh. I still need shoes and a shawl, which hopefully I can borrow from Regina. I need a better strapless bra. I need to get my haircut. I need to get a manicure.

I had mental plans of going to this wedding looking all cute 'n sassy in red and bagging a groomsman. Somehow, I don't think that's happening anymore.

Our Favorite Bat

Renee was kind enough to point out to me that the CBS Creature Comforts blog says some very nice things about the Doc, a.k.a. that bat from this past Monday's episode. Silly me, I'd only been reading the Eyeballs and Fishlips blog.

From the tone of the blog entry, it makes it seem that this is the only segment he'll be in, but I hope that is not true. I want them to do more with his character -- not just because I think he's great and funny and I know how awesome their animation is, but because I'm selfish. I liked hearing his voice again. I'm hoping they release the audio file of him talking about the squirrel too or animate it for a DVD extra or something, just because that's gotta be hysterical.

We have a few more weeks of episodes. Keep watching. Fingers crossed.

UPDATE: Thanks again to Renee, I now also realize that you can watch the episodes online too, in case you missed it. Click on the link I gave above and then on "Full episodes." He's the bat with a cold in the winter segment.

Blinding me with science

So sad! How is it that I only found out about this today?

Creature Comforts Reminder -- FOR REALZ

For really real this time, remember to watch Creature Comforts tonight at 8pm on CBS. The Doc's voice is in this episode and I know that for sure. He'll be talking about winter. Don't forget and tune in!

Dry Spell, Prepare to be Moistened!

Do you know why tonight was the best night? Well, I will tell you, silly.

Because the night started out at Fergie's pub for dorky Bloomsday events, with my girlz Renee and Justine. 3 ciders on an empty stomach = drunk Eightk. Add in a spontaneous trip to Lush for gratuitous lotions and soaps. Call the Redhead because you love her. Arrive at the Irish Pub and drink more. Then head to the Bards next door and eat lots of boxty and curry fries. Drink more, of course.

Have the beautiful Nirm pick you up and jam your way out of the city to Bollywood tunes. Go to some dive bar in Bryn Mawr and eye up hot punk boys while getting your drinks paid for.

Confidential to the hot punk boy I hooked up with: OH MY GOD, you are so impossibly hot and exactly who my mother warned me about. CALL ME. We'll have fun again.

It is all so easy

Two months ago, I placed a post-it note on the back of my bedroom door. It was a replica of a post-it note I had on my door over three years ago, while still living in Ardmore. The original post-it note had been given to me by Becky, who had received it as a note of encouragement from QK’s sister, Emily. I had been visiting the girls in Connecticut and bemoaning a number of issues to them: My hated then-job at P*****T, our dinky apartment with the leaky roof and the troubling exit of a former roommate, my lack of money. The girls encouraged me in a number of ways and then Becky handed me the post-it note. “Here,” she said, slipping it into my hands, “I don’t need it anymore.”

Written across the blue post-it, in red ink, Emily’s distinctive scrawl told me, “It is very easy to make changes.”

I tucked the post it note into my journal, and when I got home, I taped it to the back of my door, where I had opportunity to look at it every time I left my room, and ponder it endlessly.

It is very easy to make changes.

Not to sound all Chicken-Soup-For-The-Soul on you, but this is very good advice. It is, in fact, very easy to make changes. If you don’t like your job, get a new one! Don’t like your apartment? Move! Why make it so hard for yourself? Think about what you don’t like in your life, sack up, ho, and change it. Period.

Six months after taping that note to my door, I had a new job, an awesome new Montana Man roommate, a cat, and we had made plans to move to a bigger, nicer apartment that would shorten my commute by 40 minutes. As I was packing up my room, preparing for the big move, I took down the post-it. I walked over to the train station and placed it on a bench. Yeah, it might make me a litter bug, but I also hoped that someone else would see it and take heart in the advice or something.

Sorry. I went to the Hallmark Channel place, didn’t I?

Anyway.

Two months ago, shortly after Ostara, I began thinking, a lot, about what changes I wanted to make in my life. Life was okay, but I wasn’t satisfied. I had started to get ants in my pants on a number of issues — my creativity, my work, my love life, my personal appearance. So I thought about what to do to change it. I remembered that passively sitting around never changes anything, and posted a new note on the back of my door to help me remember, that now was the time to begin taking those steps to make those things happen.

It is very easy to make changes.

Two weeks ago, I posted my horoscope and crowed about “new chapters” that were coming in my life. I like new chapters, I wrote. Lord knows I’m ready for them, I thought.

Now new chapters have been flipped open and changes are coming at me fast and furious. But I’m no longer crowing, and when I look at the post-it note on the back of my door, I sulk. Why? Change is good, I wanted change in my life. But these weren’t the changes I was intending. These changes I have no control over, and instead of embracing them, I am kicking my feet. I feel like a lot of things are spiraling out of my control and I have no idea how to get them back again.

I need to breathe. I need to remember that this change, no matter how much I hate it right now, is for a reason, a lesson. That this change, however unintended, is going to be the catalyst for other things in my life, better things. I can feel it. I have to believe it. And I have to believe that no matter how scared I am, and no matter how much I am worried about money and logistics, no matter how much I am dreading all this, that the universe wouldn’t give me anything I couldn’t handle. Please, I have to believe that. Don’t come back and haunt me, irony.

I have to think this way.

It is very easy to make changes.

Whose Art Work is That, Hanging in The State Art Gallery?

Why, it's my brother's!






Way to rock it, Tom. The art will be there for the rest of the summer, I think, so if you find yourself in Harrisburg in the coming months, pay a visit!

Haven Had A Birthday

And we all celebrated. By eating fried foods and drinking beer...



By stuffing our faces with chicken wings and getting sauce all over our faces in the process...



By shooting Robert Goulet wax figures with guns...





By shooting hoops...







By bettin'on the ponies...



By looking damned georgous whilst standing by the WIN BIG game...



By playing Old Man Games...



And by being a Pretty Pretty Princess and licking our significant others...





Happy Birthday, Havers. Welcome to the Quarter Century Club. Don't ever change.



About a hundred more here.

Decision # 2

Seems I am getting custody of this fat 'lil guy.


Other pink bubbles needed: Living room furniture including sofas and side tables, kitchen table, toaster, blender, microwave, VHS/DVD combo, more bookcases for living room, TV stand, more plates and utensils. Why, hello IKEA. I believe you and I are about to have a very illustrious affair.

Decision #1

Mike and I decided that we will not replace Kelly. We will be moving out of our apartment at the end of August.

Decisions still to be made: Are we moving into a new place together, or separate apartments? Who gets Dill? Where the hell are we moving to?


You guys, I hate moving so, so much. Ffffffttt.

Getting nervous too.

And still so sad.

P.S. -- Begining the Pink Bubbles/Energy Raising now: "My new apartment is affordable, with lots of light and space... My new apartment is affordable, with lots of light and space..."

Set your DVRs

The second episode of Creature Comforts is tonight at 8pm on CBS. Hopefully this one will feature the Doc (this is my last Doc-related post in awhile, I swear!) since he told me one of the things he was interviewed about was art and tonight's episode is the Art and Self Image episode.

I myself have to record the show on VHS (oh my god, it's just like the stone ages) since I have my first dance class tonight. Yeah, dance class. I signed up for a 6 week céilí dancing class, which I have my doubts about since I don't think the teacher has his TCRG or TMRF. I'm such a snob. Regardless, it's a class that will get me dancing again so it's a step (har, har) in the right direction.

Celebratee

The Doc (oh my god, are you tired of me talking about him? I adore him, but I think I need Doc rehab) has been working on a scholarly article about The West Wing for several months. Specifically, he's writing about The West Wing and it's relation to Catholicism. If you watch the show, you know that the character of Jeb Bartlett was Catholic and Martin Sheen himself is a very progressive Catholic. Doc began working on this roughly around the same time he left for New York for cancer treatment, making him certifiably insane in my book. Like, if I had cancer, the last thing I would do would be writing a scholarly article. More likely I would be crying, eating chocolate, and making people do me favors.

Anyway, a good deal of his recovery time in New York was spent catching up on the series on DVD and doing research on the internet. The Doc, knowing that I was a fan of the show (lord, Gary, Nina, and I were such dorks about this show. SUCH DORKS), spoke to me about this article several times. We had fandork discussions on what made Jeb Bartlett tick and plot points of very specific episodes (Take This Sabbath Day and Two Cathedrals being the two most heavy-handed episodes Catholicism-wise). A few weeks ago, I got an email from the Doc explaining that it just so happens a panel of speakers -- creatives from The West Wing including writers and producers -- were coming to talk about the show at Radnor High School. Would I like to go with him and serve as an assistant and ask questions for him? Would I!

Last week, after a night of cleaning in his office, Doc and I were having dinner together and discussing the upcoming West Wing panel. He was marveling at the coincidence that he would be writing this article and suddenly this panel appears right in his back yard.

"Moreover, it's interesting this panel is happening at all," I told him. "The show's been over for more than a year. Why are they doing this? Why now? Why are they coming to Radnor? Who's sponsoring this?"

When the Doc told me who was sponsoring it, a light bulb went off in my head. The council sponsoring the event is the same council that the CEO of my company serves on. The following day I went to his secretary and spouted the whole story of The Doc to her, explained about the article. "Say no more," she said, "I'll pull some strings." Because she is awesome, she got us into the event for free, front row seats, and a meet 'n greet one-on-one prior to the panel. I KNOW. The Doc was thrilled, I was ecstatic.

So last night, I met: Melissa Fitzgerald, who played C.J.'s assistant Carol; NiCole Robinson, who played Leo's assistant Margaret; Lew Wells, producer; Josh Singer, writer; Craig Snyder, political consultant and occasional writer for the show; and live via satellite from L.A., my new boyfriend, Bradley Whitford.

Because I'm deranged, I had this idea that I would walk into the meet 'n greet all confident, smooth, and cool and be all awesome for these people who would simply be enchanted by me. Reality check: Once in I felt shy, awkward, most of all very, very protective of Doc. I wanted to make sure they could understand him, that he would get the answers he needed, and that they wouldn't be all weirded out by him and his cyborg voice. I hung back a little at first trying to figure out my "in." Luckily my CEO's secretary was there, saw me being a little shy and yanked me into the circle, introducing me to the council members, who in turn introduced me to the famous people. I was introduced to NiCole first, and I was really excited to meet her. She was a surprise guest because she wasn't on the original list of Famous People To Appear. I recognized her when she walked in and did an internal squee because she was really good as Margaret, having a great acting chemistry with John Spencer. So I met her first, and she was all cool and normal, not to mention super cute in an adorable wrap dress. Before I could really begin to talk to her, I was steered over to Lew Wells and Josh Singer. Lew, for the record, was very warm and friendly, with crinkly eyes. Josh was very nice as well, but Lew especially was very candid. Doc was still talking to NiCole (he got a fabulous anecdote off of her about Martin Sheen), so I launched into the whole spiel about why we were there and the article he is writing. Both seemed intrigued that such an article would be written, but were forthcoming with their information. At some point, I realized that Doc should be hearing this, so I guided him away from NiCole (Hi, NiCole! Call me! We'll do lunch and go shopping!) and introduced him to Lew and Josh. Both of them were so so kind to Doc, very patient, willing to take time to listen and made sure they answered his questions fully. I loved them for that.

After speaking with them, it was time to go into the auditorium for the panel discussion. The panel itself was kind of "eh" due mostly to the fact that the dude moderating it (some guy from Cn8, who, when he was introduced to us clearly expected us to be impressed by him. Whatever; Dude, no one watches your channel) was kind of a tool. He kept cutting the panel members off and despite his career in broadcast journalism, acted like he had never used a satellite feed before by talking over poor Bradley Whitford, who, with the 3 second delay, would get flustered into silence. Speaking of Bradley Whitford, I felt kind of bad for him. I don't know if it was the angle of the camera or what, but the sound stage he was on looked a little small and cramped. Also, I think we were having some technical difficulties which he was professional enough to ignore and soldier on. And! When I asked my question (okay, okay, the Doc's question) it was Bradley who answered, asking the rest of the panel if he could field it. So to recap: BRADLEY WHITFORD WANTED TO ANSWER OUR QUESTION (Hi, Bradley! Call me! We'll totally do lunch and then make out even though you're married to an awesome lady who I secretly kind of love!).

After the panel was over, Doc went to go refresh himself and I took the opportunity to introduce myself to Melissa (who had arrived late due to traffic) and Craig, both of whom were very nice. Then I went over to thank Lew and Josh for being so great and in turn they responded with giving me their email addresses (!) and encouraging us to contact them should we need anything else. Sweet!

OBLIGITORY STORY ABOUT HOW I'M A DORK

So, when I was talking to Lew and Josh before the panel, prior to me bringing the Doc over, this is a bit of the conversation we had:

LEW: Wow, that's an interesting thing to write an article about.

JOSH: Is it in reference to the "Two Cathedrals" episode?

ME: Well, that's part of it. But it's more about Jeb being a Catholic and Martin Sheen being a progressive Catholic. Although I do love that episode, especially the Latin. That was such a great moment, and such a great part of his character. A way of showing his intellect, a throwback to him studying to be a priest before he met Abbey.

LEW: (frowning) Really? Studying to be a priest?

JOSH: (looking at Lew and also frowning) Was he?

ME: (blushing) Uhhhh...yeah, I think so. Right? Isn't that why he went to Notre Dame? I thought...I'm probably wrong.

LEW: You know what? Now I vaguely remember that. Yeah...that seems kind of familiar.

JOSH: Wow.

ME: (still blushing) Oh my god, I've totally just geeked myself out in front of you.

LEW and JOSH: (laughter)

STORY ABOUT WHAT WORKING WITH THE DOC IS REALLY LIKE

Post panel and post dinner, I took the Doc back to his house and he asked me to help him with a few small nitpicky things before taking him to CVS. At some point, he realized that he needed an envelope that I had labeled the night before.

ME: Is it on the chair? That's where I left it last night.

DOC: No, I moved it. I had it this morning.

ME: OK, where?

DOC: I don't remember

(ten minutes of searching)

DOC: (snapping his fingers) I know where it is!

ME: Where?

DOC: The bathtub!

ME: What?

DOC: (thunders upstairs)

(I continue searching normal places, like the coffee table and the side desk)

DOC: (thundering down the stairs) Not there. Was a good thought, though.

ME: I don't understand you at all.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, the envelope turned up IN HIS POCKET. I wanted to bang my head on the table.

Got some new shoes on

Dear Wedge Shoes,

To me, you look like you should be worn by Dorthy Zbornak, whilst sunning herself on the lanai. In other words, you're kind of ugly and only appropriate for witty septuagenarians, is what I'm saying.

I can't wait until your fad is over.

Bring back real heels,

EightK

Thinking so you don't have to

Well, well, well. I'm a winner! Kwan Yin just tagged me with a thinking blogger award!



So the rules, as I understand them, is to pass this along to 5 bloggers who make me think. Let me just say that it's sort of a shame that Kwan Yin nominated me because I would have nominated her, for sure. As a non-pagan reader, she still manages to make her faith and spirituality accessible, interesting, and thought provoking. I may not have any single denomination that I subscribe to, but she makes me want to continue my search. Anyway, moving on. My five nominees are:

And Shee Was. I adore Renee. She's super smart, sweet, adorable, mini, and brilliant writer. Whether she's writing about her day-to-day, music and pop culture, ranting about boys, or just grooving out, she's a fun read. I also, really, really admire her writing abilities. Oh, and seven years later, I'm still trying to figure out why she's friends with a goober like me.

Schuyler's Monster. I found this blog when it was still under the name of Darn Tootin' and Schuyler was just getting her Big Box of Words. I was hooked instantly and spent days pouring over the archives. To bring you up to speed: The blog is written by Rob, father of the spunky, sprightly Schuyler, who was born with a rare neurological disorder that left her unable to speak. Wait, wait. Before you turn away all, "God, that's depressing," it's really not. Rob manages to write in a way that leaves you inspired and hopeful without being all saccharin sweet glurge. Yeah, life's tough. They deal with it. Reading his blog and watching Schuyler fiercely battle her monster every day (...and win) is just the underlying story. The real story? A dad and super cool daughter, one who wears Chuck Taylors, T-shirts that say "You talk too much," and loves King Kong. Rob has written a book that will be coming out this winter. Needless to say, even though I already know the story, I can't wait to read it. Rob is also a talented and gifted photographer.

Softly, Softly, Catchy Monkey. Stephanie is so, so rad, I don't even know where to begin. Read her blog for quick funny anecdotes, silly stories, and just general awesomeness.

What's Alan Watching? I'm a bit of a TV junkie, Ok? Alan gives thoughtful and insightful reviews of the best shows and what makes him better than any other TV critic is that his writing makes it crystal clear that he loves television. Great fun, even when he reviews the shows I don't watch.

On My Desk. Fascinating looks at what talented creative folks keep on the desks and in their workspaces. From film makers and animators to graphic designers and artists, these glimpses at what these creatives keep around them as they toil never fail to inspire me.

And that's it, friends. Pass it along.

Bookshelf woes

I am in desperate need of a bookshelf. I already have one, of course, two actually, now that I think about it, but they are on the full side. And considering I CAN'T STOP buying books, this has become a real problem.

I've been keeping a wary eye as I make my yard sale rounds and Miss J has kindly offered me an old bookshelf of hers. But this has brought up another problem: I have no room for a bookshelf in my room. The ceiling in my room slopes in at various angles, number one, limiting my spots for pieces of furniture. Number two, most of my furniture is already up against the available wall space, leaving the center of my room free for movement and activity (or more often, the piling of dirty clothes).

I should probably break down and just buy a bookcase at IKEA or something, because come fall who knows if I'll still be in this apartment or what. But then, I saw this, and I have totally fallen in love with idea of building myself a bookcase like this.

Needed: Someone with a table saw and miter saw that will cut the wood for me. Also needed: someone who will lend me their nail gun. The rest I will do myself.

EDIT: I heart Instructables. Now I want to make this too, just for kicks.

Me Talk Pretty One Day

Please allow me to squee.

SQUEEEEEEEEE!

Why am I squeeing, you ask? Well, I will tell you. Pretty, pretty Renee has just purchased tickets for us to see David Sedaris in October! SQUEEEEEEEE!

He's at the Keswick. There's something like 10 tickets left. Want to come along? Get on it.

Ouch

So I went to the doctor. I'm healthy. Blood work has been put in. All is well.

But to the woman who gave me the tetnus shot, and jammed it in SO HARD that I now have a sweet little bruise, to you I say OMG FUCK OFF. I know tetnus shots are supposed to leave you sore and stiff for awhile, but jeesus.

Reminder!

Tonight on CBS, at 8pm, the premiere of Creature Comforts, featuring the vocal stylings of the Doc.

I myself am going to watch it at Renee's since lightning struck our TV last week, rendering it broken. Screw you, lightning.

UPDATE: OK, so he wasn't in the premiere, like we thought he would be. But! He is in the series, so keep watching. And how could you not, after those little slugs in the snow with the snowslug? So cute, so funny.

Room to Let

"Are you ready for me to drop a bomb?" she asked.

"Go for it."

"After a lot of thought, long debate, and many pros and cons lists, I've decided," she paused and I leaned forward anticipating a punch line to a joke, "that come September I'm moving out and getting my own place."

I was still waiting for the "joke" portion and it took a second to process what she said. Then, shock. I could feel my face getting hot, my spine tingling. I blinked and the spots before my eyes cleared. "Wow," I said.

She went on to explain how it was nothing personal, how she just feels like she's at a point in her life where she's ready to be on her own, independent, grownup. She explained how she's stuck in a cycle she wants to break out of. She explained that financially, she's ready. I nodded my head and said things like, "I understand," and "Well, this is kind of a bummer." I was trying hard to ignore how very tight my throat had gotten.

"So, in the fall you and Mike will have to find a new roommate," she finished up.

"I can't imagine how we would ever replace you," I told her. And that? Is the damn truth. I can't imagine anyone else fitting with us as seamlessly as she does, someone that I would feel comfortable with, someone who would be as fun, cool, and kind as her.

So I said the right things. I said the supportive things. I said, "You have to do what's right for you."

I know these are the things I am supposed to say. But I don't want to say them. I want to be selfish. I want to say, "This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard, please stay." I want to get on my knees and beg.

But I can't do this. Because deep, deep, down, I know things will be OK. That she's thought this through. That things like this happen for a reason. That she wouldn't rush into something like this if she wasn't sure. That she's doing what she needs to do.

I don't have to like it though.

Later, when we were hugging, fat tears leaking out of both of our eyes, she said, "I feel like I'm divorcing you. I hate doing this to you." And I know she was telling the truth. That this decision must have been agonizing for her.

I'm not stupid. I knew this would happen at some point. That one of us would leave, breaking the trifecta of awesome that we are. And I knew it was coming soon. But in my head, I thought "soon" was next year. I thought we had one good year left in us. When I pictured us splitting up, I thought Kelly would be headed off west, to Portland or Seattle. That Mike would be going off to school. And me? Lord only knows. I can't blame Kelly for wanting this now, though. She's 26 (...27 in the fall), and I can understand her wanting her privacy, independence, freedom, her own space. And I know she's trying to change her life for the better, anyway she can, and I can't begrudge her that. I want her to be happy.

Things are going to be OK. All of this will work out exactly as it's supposed to. Mike and I haven't discussed what we're going to do yet (hell at this point, I don't think Mike knows yet), whether we'll get another roommate (doubtful, in my opinion), move to a smaller place (possible), or break off on our own (scary, but also possible). Whatever we decide, we'll all be all right, we're ending on good terms. This is the way life works.

But right now, I'm just so sad.

Bring it on, June

Oh, Horoscopes. I am so your bitch. You know this. I know this. I don't know why I pretend to be skeptical -- every month, nay every week, I am banging on your door.

Keep in mind that you are coming to the end of a chapter and are about to start a brand new one. Anything that has not functioned well for you will need to be jettisoned from your life soon, for you are starting a new two-year cycle during the period that spans from June 25 to August 7. The seeds you plant then, while Mars tours Taurus, will have a wonderful chance for success.

Well, awesome. I like new chapters. I need new chapters.

From the new moon in Gemini on June 14 onward, you will set out to increase your salary, something you can accomplish in various ways [...] Speak up for a raise just after the potent new moon arrives in your house of earned income on June 14. This will be your very best point of the month - even the YEAR - to campaign for more money in your paycheck. You'll have approximately ten days to seal your deal. Make a list of accomplishments and contributions, and present them in a compelling way. You'll walk home with an even bigger raise than you ever expected!

Get this -- that's my anniversary date. My review/salary negotiation day. I had been dreading it because I'm horrible at asserting myself for more money. I suck at it. And this year, after all I've been through and done I really feel I deserve more. I can't go on making this little money. So I've been dreading that day because in my mind I've pictured it as a fight that I'm going to lose. And while it still may be a fight, maybe I won't lose...

Hysterically, my horoscope also talks about going minimalist, clearing out clutter, etc. And while a good portion of that is probably metaphor about Larger Things In My Life, guess what I'm doing this month? Helping The Doc clean his office. I've been helping him the last two days (oh God, we've found stuff from 10 years ago) and it's been a tough battle. Almost worse than his house because his office is tiny and there's no room to maneuver. He's throwing away a lot of crap, I'm actually impressed. But right now...Lord, it seems we'll never be done.