Isn't it weird the way life works? I couldn't be happier with mine right now, which causes me to occasionally look back at how I got here ....

Things are so different than they were a year ago, which is about the time I started blogging (as part of the now defunct Band). Wow, and from that standpoint alone, things are really different.

Let's take a closer look, shall we?

I starting blogging as a result of encouragement from my best pal Robin, who was encouraged by another friend who blogged and designed and who offered to make us a shiny blog of our own to share. Robin was game; she even went to Blogger and created an account for us, used a pre-set template and all, which is pretty funny in hindsight, considering that she quickly lost interest. Or quite possibly, got fed up.

The thing is, everything surrounding that blog was weird and wrong, which is why I finally decided to kill it just recently (it took me awhile to gain enough time and experience to put something else up). But long before that blog was deleted, it evolved. It evolved, which is why I kept it up and allowed it to remain until recently. It became mine; it made new friends; it changed its mind about certain things (and people) after being exposed to them. It just got a new look and a new name here, that's all.

When the Band was created, it was clique-ish -- that was built into the template. Let me explain ... I was dating the guy (briefly, mind you) who created the template. (Talk about censorship ... Self imposed, of course.) And everyone was all feeling sorry for him at the time due a recent break-up, and I jumped on the bandwagon, judging and thinking negatively about the dumper (how things change), who also had/has a blog. Around the same time that he created the Band template, said guy created a blog for one of his lady friends, and we all began to read each other's postings: guy, lady friend, ex-girlfriend, the Band (Rob and I). Weird, huh? Surely you can see that. And surely you can see where problems began.

At any rate, I enjoyed blogging so I continued. I still enjoy it; I like "meeting" new people and sharing things (music, art, local happenings, opinions and advice ... support, at times). I've always liked to write, and this just gives me a place to do it. It can be quite encouraging (though I've written little of substance these days, and it has truly served as a journal more than I'd like). The blog has evolved. I guess I have, too. I can actually see the growth spurts.

So as we close the month of March 2004, and the month of my blogging anniversary, I have fulfilled my personal desire to clear the air. So what about the lady friend, the ex-girlfriend, that guy? We keep on reading each other's blogs. Some of us are quite friendly and have a lot in common; at times there are intentions I'm uncertain about, then there are those I believe most sincere. And of course, there are blogs we just read regularly, because of that characteristic called curiosity. We read without commenting, as if Site Meter isn't giving us all away. The nice part though is that our lives no longer intersect; we are permanently separated, unless we choose not to be, linked only by those links on our sites.

Who says you need a camera phone to post
pictures of yourself? tee hee ...

Our house is a mess right now, though it's slowly becoming less of one as the weekend draws to an end.

The bathroom has been painted, but the cabinet doors have to dry before they can be hung. There's stuff all over the middle bedroom, and it will remain there until all paint is dry.

We're getting new carpet!!! The house has been measured, but it'll take a couple of weeks for the carpet to arrive.

I started a new Yoga class this weekend. I was so excited that getting out of bed at 8 a.m. Saturday didn't suck nearly as bad as it normally would.

I'm almost finished with Three Junes, which has taken me an embarrassingly long time to read.

I napped a lot this weekend. My allergies are out of control; I probably snored a lot this weekend, too.

I need to do something nice for my beloved fiance in the very near future. No, buying sandpaper and other random supplies at his request will not suffice.

From J:

"I'm actually out on my own porch on a beautifully overcast spring day, and all the neighborhood's flowers have come into bloom, and there is that great moisture in the air and on the ground, so needless to say it smells wonderful.

I haven't left the house all day. Just sat out on this porch. I'm amazed I can do that, but I truly can,and can without feeling too terrible about it. That's called a conscience, and I have a weak one at times. Now if my cigar smoking lawyerly neighbor would quit grazing through my front yard in search of weeds or any remnats of my walk from house to car, then I would be grateful.

He's lived in this neighborhood a long time, I'll give him that, but christ. The other day in my underwear shaving he bangs on the door and entreats me, with a quickness, to move my car to the other side of the street as a streetsweeper was approaching and was to take away all the leaves and gunk by that curb. I run out, neighborly, and do so, only to have him pound on the door again ... he was mistaken, the streetsweeper was sucking up the other side ... oh woe is me ...
That and the fact that every house is under some sort of remodeling/construction/lawn overhaul/addition, blah blah, so if you are home past 9 a.m., you are fucked out of getting anything out of Ricki Lake or Jerry Springer. That's a crime, I know.

But my job ended once again, the one I was for sure was to lead to permanence, and so I am mourning and emailing resumes and scouring once again, which is all I seem to ever do. I have become a a scourer of epic proportions. I have become quick in eye, like a bird on a restaurant's deck, just waiting to scoop up a solitary fry or jelly packet and be off with it. At my previous job, I went out onto the little balconey on the 9th floor for smoking and witnessed this enormous
hawklike bird perched on the rail. I moved stealthily, admiring this amazing thing, envious that he, unlike me, could at any moment spread his wings and be gone. That's pretty cliche and shit, but as I stood and watched, moving closer, the bird turns to me, and lets drop a pound of shit, splattering all over, and I leap backwards, and notice all my coworkers
standing inside at the glassdoor having a good time with it. I think that sums it all up.

SXSW was a hoot and I am still recovering. Played many a show and did many an idiotic thing.
Case in point, woke up one morning in an abandoned van on the eastside. No shit. Very interesting walk home. Got to have a conversation with Wayne Cohn of Flaming Lips. That was insightful. Followed J Mascis around for a bit and
found him to be deeply disturbed. Highlight was Broken Social Scene from Toronto. Hands down. Wore suglasses and a suit the entire week, enjoyed many a free meal and complimentary beverage, and weeded in and out of the lines of people in countless bars trying desperately to get UP FRONT.

Apart from that I lost the girlfriend thing. She WAS sweet but became an intolerable drunk, began telling the same stories over and over, lacked creative intent, musical knowledge, and overall passion. Too skinny, too.
I think her legs were as thick as my forearm. Sex was like laying atop a dishrack and hoping it didn't splinter into a million pieces. She was cute, though.

Write me back and tell me of recent news. I know you are busy, but miss you
and hope all is well,
j"

"stones taught me to fly
love taught me to cry
so come on, courage
teach me to be shy
'cause it's not hard to fall ...
... when you float like a cannonball"

Yeah, it's the greatness that is Damien Rice.

Usrey out! (Making fun of "his first name's Ryan and his last name is Seacrest.")
It's clear that I've lost my shit.
But there'll be more tomorrow. I've never had more useless, random thoughts screaming to be heard in my entire life.

Lorie is a genius. Unfortunately, I can't tell you why if you don't already know.

Best, and most accurate, analogy I've heard all day: "She KNOWS I think [her friend/our original connection] is the roach fuckin' up the reception in my stereo receiver."

Right on the money, ~A. Right arm.

My new favorite snack (when I'm not eating fried bananas and craving pickles and ranch style beans): Turkey breast with onion/chive cream cheese. Seriously, you just spread cream cheese on a slice of turkey breast and roll that sucker up. It's a low-carb snack and oh, so yummy. It's like an Atkins sandwich.

I'm back from Atlanta and super-tired. I deserve a comp day, this I am sure of. Perhaps I can swing it tomorrow ... of course, I'm debating on getting out of here and "working from home" this afternoon. I can't focus ... there's so much to do on both the work and personal fronts. I've been neglecting wedding plans for weeks now ...

I'm going to stress myself out even further if I'm not careful.
And would someone please turn on the damn sunshine? Thanks.

"I took a good risk management course, and I think you may end up returning to Dallas with no bananas if you're not careful," said smart MIT student from Tel Aviv over dessert this evening. I had declined a sampling of his fried bananas and ice cream, choosing to wait for the late arrival of my very own.

Risk vs. reward, and I got my bananas, so what does he know? The dessert proved as yummy as everything else on the Tamarind menu. And you gotta love dinner on the man.

I had a non-alcoholic beer. How screwed up is that? Or how about the fact that I ordered it as discretely as possible? Ordering non-alcoholic beer is an embarrassment I hope you never choose to experience.

At least I was sitting next to a Mormon ... next to a Morman, across from a Jew, endulging in stimulating conversation and Thai cuisine.

I'm on a short break. Today started with a major disaster and me feeling, as well as using the adjective, mortified. Mortified. When's the last time you felt that was an accurate description of your emotional state? I hope it's difficult to recollect. The storm has calmed, but it's far from over. Work fire drills suck.

Two more briefings to staff then I'm done for the day, with no briefings tomorrow. I see the light ahead ...

This is where I am, what I'm going through. It's a cool show; I wish I had two minutes to check it out. That comes tomorrow though.

Sweet Georgia accents welcomed here! But why is it so cold in Atlanta while I'm without coat or jacket?

Trade show floor sparkly is nice.

I'm in Atlanta with 2.5 hours to myself before the circus begins. The weather is beautiful, and I'm about to walk over to the CNN Center to pick up some souvenirs for the good people at home who helped prepare all the materials I had to lug here.

I'm online wirelessly, which I think is pretty cool, but since it's a wireless show, there are WLAN access points all over the place.

Randomly:
I never realized how many homes located near DFW Airport have swimming pools.

I have a new favorite sparkly: sunshine-through-airplane-window sparkly. Very nice.

I'm capable only of single sentence statements for the moment, and I need a nap.

Shit, ass, damn.

Oh yeah -- Lauri has talked up Damien Rice since Golf Girl's inception (or near abouts), and I finally got the O CD. That's some good shit.

I've been cursing a lot lately. I'm hoping that slows a bit after Wednesday and that I re-gain my spelling abilities.

Despite the fact that I'm scrambling to get everything done at the office before heading home for the abbreviated weekend ... despite the fact that I leave mid-morning Sunday to arrive in a city whose streets will surely put blisters on my feet ... despite those things, and dozens more that will surely bore you, my life is pretty good right now.

In spite of my radiator going out ...
(Who cares? You're getting a new vehicle soon anyway!)
In spite of the speeding ticket I got this morning ...
(The cop forgot to write in the alleged speed; there may be a loop hole here.)
... things are good.

Wedding invitations will be dropped at the P.O. tomorrow. (Hey, did I mention I'm getting married to the coolest person on Earth?) Everything's coming together, and life stays interesting, continuing to throw us new surprises.

His name is Zack (his last name will be spared due to much needed protection). He's not a black belt in Karate (at least, not that I'm aware of), but he is a master at Aikido.

I'm indebted to him at the moment, due to his help with some HTML issues, amongst other things. I can't be exactly sure of how we met, but it was just one of those things and the timing was perfect, I suppose.

He's a native Texan, an artist, an Austin dweller, an architect, an allergy sufferer, a Texas Rollergirl fan, a good "guy friend." He'll take you to cool shows, out camping in the woods, to crazy parties and mob flashes, if you're lucky enough to accompany him. He has a brother who makes mad breakfast tacos, I hear.

He's owed a CD of Texas music, which I agreed to create and send his way months ago (OK, nearly a year ago) and on which I'm quite delinquent. Oh yeah, did I mention he's extremely patient? Yeah, we like Zack. Embrace him in the circle, even when he's not sunburned, and you will be blessed with many good tidings.

I really need to shave my legs. If I had three wishes I'd wish for: time, shaving cream, and a disposable razor.

Besides, I hear dirty hair is "in."

Her name is Yoshimi - she's a black belt in karate
Working for the city - she has to discipline her body -
Cause she knows that it's demanding to defeat these
Evil machines - I know she can beat them -

Oh Yoshimi
They don't believe me
But you won't let those
Robots defeat me
Oh Yoshimi
They don't believe me
But you won't let those
Robots eat me

Those evil natured robots - they're programmed to
Destroy us - She's gotta be strong to fight them -
So she's taking lots of vitamins - cause she knows that
It'd be tragic if those evil robots win - I know
She can beat them -

~The Flaming Lips

Yeah, you can listen here: Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots
It's about the only thing keeping me sane right now.

And I still have to work on this site ... patience.

Test post from Jen. Mother fucking welcome.