Two birds, no stones.

Even though I have a sizable stack of books piling up in my "actually-read" pile, I'm only going to review (if you can call it that) two books on here in this post. The reason for this is that the next batch are all related by a loose theme that these two just really don't fall into at all, but I want to say a word or two about them. You know, so they don't look like misfits or rejects.

The Cider House Rules
by John Irving

Let me start by saying that every time I read a book by John Irving, it totally redeems my world and saves my life. It happened with The World According to Garp (even though I didn't like the book that much), it happened with A Prayer for Owen Meany (Which is in my top-five, all time, favorites), and it happened again with Cider House Rules. I picked this book up because I was really upset by something someone said about abortion. And I couldn't stop thinking about it for days ("thinking" is not even really a good term. "Chewing on" is probably better.) I called Kacie about it. I called Emily about it. I think it seeped into one of my calls with my mom...

Anyway, within five pages, I knew I had the book that would be my warm, cathartic blanket. The book both is and is not about abortion (who wants to read a book that just is about abortion? Hopefully no one.). More than that, it is about orphans and other normal and extraordinary people whose lives are complicated, mysterious, and and often lovely despite the fog. For me, it read like a love letter to the sane.

A word on the differences between movie and book: egads. There is a nebula of difference between the two. And while Tobey Maguire, sadly, plays the part of Homer Wells my head no matter how hard I try to extract him, the book is... well... a book. Also, my used copy of the book had clearly been used to entertain someone's toddler, as the back three pages are filled with what I assume are the artist's rendition of black holes.

I would recommend this book to: My mom, and anyone looking for a good, long, novel. Also anyone who doesn't understand that you can be pro-choice and pro-life at the same time, but I wouldn't only recommend it for that reason.

Breakfast of Champions
By Kurt Vonnegut

Where do I begin? Have you read anything by Vonnegut? If yes, please proceed to paragraph two. If no, please read paragraph one.

Paragraph one: Not to make you feel guilty, but how is that possible? Anyway, now that that's out of the way, don't start with this book because you'll be confused as hell and never read anything by him again (ok, maybe not). Start with Slaughterhouse-Five or maybe Cat's Cradle, but not this. Kurt Vonnegut is very smart, and very funny, but also rather a jerk sometimes when it comes to women which is funny for someone who has so many problems with the way the world is run. That being said, you should try reading something of his at least, just to know what the fuss is about.

Paragraph two: You've read something by Vonnegut and you're probably already expecting some ranting, and maybe inappropriate drawings, or aliens, or Kilgore Trout, even Vonnegut himself showing up to play "creator" and mess with his characters' lives. I picked this one up, I'll admit, because about ten years ago, I saw a preview for the movie version of this book that featured Bruce Willis looking all crazy and low-budget. I love Bruce Willis and somehow this was enough to make me want to read this book, but not enough to make me want to see the movie. Go figure.

It's about a car dealership owner who speed-reads a science fiction novel that says "you are the only being on earth with free will. Everyone else is a robot." But because he's going nuts, he thinks it's true.

If you take out all the parts where someone treats a woman like crap and include more drawings of small animals, my dad could easily have written this book. It's all meta-whatever, there are references to books that don't exist sprinkled in with ones that do, the author shows up and pokes around, and people may or may not get their limbs cut off.

When I got on the metro after buying this, a guy my age said, "That's my favorite book of all time." And I thought, "You've never heard of this book, are you joking?" And after reading it, I think Kurt Vonnegut would have said the same thing.

I would recommend this book to: People who like illustrations and non-sense. My dad, again, maybe, if he thinks he can stand the chauvinist bits.

Donde esta mis zapatos?

Do you know the part in the James Taylor song where he says "Oh, Mexico, It sounds so sweet with the sun sinking low, Moon's so bright like to light up the night... Make everything all right."

And then he admits that he's never really been so he doesn't really know?

Well... I've never been to Mexico either. But I'm ready.

Granted, we "just" got back from New Orleans and I haven't even posted the pictures yet, but it's never to early to buy your next ticket out in my opinion. Especially since at this point, all I'm really doing is waiting to hear from my graduate schools and working everyday.

Tim got the amazing honor of becoming a PMF finalist, which basically fast-tracks him into an amazing government job. The only problem is that it's a two year program which means that our whole "I support you through grad school then you support me" idea is shot, because I will go where I go... alone.

Not to mention that my co-worker Joe has taken to telling me on a daily basis to "Give up [my] hopes and dreams!!" and stay at Clutch because "everyone knows that graduate school in English is the worst financial decision you can make." (He was an English undergrad too.) I keep telling him he sold his soul and look where it got him.

Long and Short: Even without all that pressure, I would be ready to go to Mexico. Kacie and I have been saying we were going to take a trip to Mexico together since within about 4 days of meeting each other. So Kacie's put down the deposit on five days and four nights in the Casa Palmas villa in Playa Del Carmen, Mexico. It's on the Yucatan peninsula, right across from Cozumel. It's a no-boyfriends vacation (not "all girls" because Jared is coming), and there are about 5-6 of us going. Flip flops. Bikinis. Beach. Boat drinks. Lazy. Lazy. Lazy.

James Taylor is speaking my language.

This dance card is full.

Tim and I have this incredibly boring habit of doing absolutely nothing of any note for weeks and sometimes months at a time, which is why my blog is sometimes an almost stream-of-consciousness receptacle for apologies, meant to placate you because I'm not in France anymore, with appalling things to complain about on a daily basis. That's not to say that I don't have all sorts of things I could complain about--sorry, "Blog" about--(I am in my 20's after all) but they'd probably be about my job and a) that's in very poor taste and b) no one likes to hear someone go on and on about their job. Even though me bitching about--sorry, Blogging--about France was totally fine. Because everyone likes to bitch about the French. Even the French.

Maybe I could write about the crazy things that happen at work except pretend that it's France. Except somehow I think you'd see through my ruse, and I'd still get fired.

Anyway, all of that introduction was to tell you that somehow, the chain has been broken this month and Tim and I have been overwhelmed with interesting things to do. Normally, people who lead interesting lives do things, and then make witty observations about them later. I, however, am a scumbag whose whole life revolves around my job, my refrigerator, and my sleep quota, so if I try to do the whole "report back" thing, you'll never find out about all the awesome things we've got going on.

All of the excitement actually started two(?) weeks ago when Alsn came over for Scrabble and to "watch" the Super Bowl, which might have been interesting if I wasn't prejudiced against it. I was not, on the hand, prejudiced against the three of us eating enough tiny foods for 8 people. That was pretty much all I had hoped for an more except I'm pretty sure one or both of them beat me at Scrabble AGAIN, but I can't recall because the event has been scrubbed from my memory.

The excitement tried to continue the following weekend when Tim and I went bowling with my friend Vijay. I say tried to continue, because we all suck and bowling and also because we got kicked out of the bowling alley after one game and had no choice but to take our drinking elsewhere, where Vijay and I talked about Clutch Group and Rock and Roll for a couple of hours. Tim was either fascinated or in hell, but he kept buying pitchers, so it can't have been too bad for him.

Some of you might be asking "how is this in any way worth blogging about?" to which I respond: "you have no idea how lame Tim and I are. For real." And also, I hadn't seen either of these people in months, so quit judging me.

Anyway, that brings us to today (Thursday), which is the day that Tim and I went to see Avenue Q. If you're not familiar with it, it's a Broadway play along the lines of Sesame Street or The Electric Company, only for grown ups. And by "grown ups" I mean mildly retarded 20- and 30-somethings. It's pretty fantastic, in a lewd, depressingly true-to-life, but still very funny and happy sort of way.

Tomorrow (Friday), we're going to see Jason Mraz and Ben Folds at GW, in what will be my FIFTH time seeing Jason Mraz live. I actually still don't own his newest CD, if you can believe it. Not to sound all Abramy or anything, but I really just liked him better when he was just beginning his career and his music was just the guitar, Toca on the drums, maybe a guy on a flute... But he's still awesome live because there are some things AutoTune will never ruin. Seriously though, even if you hated Jason Mraz the prospect of seeing Ben Folds ought to be enough to make you happy for the rest of your days.

Saturday is Valentines Day, which we don't plan to do much for. I was trying to be cute and do what Tim wanted so I planned to go on a hike and take a picnic. Meanwhile, he was trying to be cute and do what I wanted, so he planned to take me to Coraline. There's only a 50% chance that either of those things will happen. See above references to our laziness.

Sunday is Tim's 25th birthday. (Bells and whistles!) We're having people over for tiny foods and wii or Apples to Apples, and then maybe to go out. YOU ARE ALL INVITED. In fact, I double dog dare you to be there.

Monday is Presidents Day, which we keep treating like it's part of our "weekend of big events" but really it's just a day off from work. But for the sake of this blog let's say, oh... I'm going to take an astronaut training course, bake an apple pie, call everyone on my speed dial, and hire a stock broker.

Next weekend we're going to see Patton Oswalt, again at GW and I. am. so. excited. It you don't know who Patton Oswalt is, he's the voice of Remy from Ratatouille. However, he is also the genius behind this:



The next weekend we're going to Mardi Gras, which means seeing Carly for the first time since she graduated and seeing Jared's new house and going to New Orleans and the best part? NOT SITTING AT MY DESK THROUGH THE ENTIRETY OF MARDI GRAS. AGAIN. I love Mardi Gras in a way that no words could ever explain. It started with Mrs. Ginsburg's kindergarten class... I could tell even as a five year old that she would rather have been at Mardi Gras and she LOVED us, but she was totally going to teach us as much about Louisiana as she could get away with. Which involved giving us much king cake, and as many beads as possible. So yes, I will be there.

And that pretty much takes care of February.

Non-Required Reading

As if it isn't awesome enough to take two month off from work and travel around visiting your friends and family, my Leave of Absence (which I'm just going to start calling my LOA--which I'm going to pretend is the Hawaiian word for "Banana Pancakes" except actually I think it means "long," which is also kind of appropriate)... uhhhhh... anyway my LOA gave me triple the time to read whatever I wanted to. It also gave me time to go shopping for books and I came back with something like 12 books in my suitcase, but that's another issue.

So here, in the order in which I read them, are the reviews of the six novels I read while on LOA.

Little Women
By Louisa May Alcott
(Begun in Washington, DC/Finished in Rogers, AR)

What is there to say about Little Women? Reviewing it is a little like trying to review Jane Eyre. Honestly, I picked it because I loved the movie once-upon-a-time and I felt the need for something cute and heart-warming. It's so chock-full of top-notch morality that merely carrying it around should make you feel like a better person--unless of course it makes you feel like a terrible person. The book is long, and every chapter is it's own story, but if you can stand the repeating theme of girls-are-tempted, girls-go-astray, girls-find-their-moral-compass, girls-vow-never-to-go-wrong-again it really is a wonderful book that makes you love (Beth) and hate (Amy) the characters and wonder at their problems and freak out just a little bit at the two major plot twists that just seem so... wrong, for a book that's so right.

Also, Jo's desire to be a man is fascinating.

I would recommend this book to: Kristin, except she's already read it, so that's cheating. So maybe all of my teenage cousins.

The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao
By Junot Diaz
(Begun in Rogers, AR/Finished in Boulder, CO)

This book is sooooo satisfying, especially if you are interested in any of the following: a) anything remotely nerd-core (i.e. comic books, sci-fi novels, films and TV, people who don't lose their virginity until they're old enough to drink), b) Caribbean culture, in particular, the crazy fucked-up history of the Dominican Republic, c) books that make you smarter without trying, and d) references to 80's pop-culture.

On top of having clearly been written by a genius with an encyclopedic brain, the story is wholly original. The dichotomy between the main character and the narrator becomes something like perfection, something like vindication for all those nerds out there, despite how the story unfolds. Really, I think this is a brilliant book.

"In September he headed to Rutgers New Brunswick, his mother gave him a hundred dollars and his first kiss in five years, his tío a box of condoms: Use them all, he said, and then added: On girls. There was the initial euphoria of finding himself alone at college, free of everything, completely on his fucking own, and with it an optimism that here among these thousands of young people he would find someone like him. That, alas, didn't happen. The white kids looked at his black skin and his afro and treated him with inhuman cheeriness. The kids of color, upon hearing him speak and seeing him move his body, shook their heads. You're not Dominican. And he said, over and over again, But I am. Soy Dominicano. Dominicano soy. ... [A]nd before he even realized what happened he had buried himself in what amounted to the college version of what he'd majored in all throughout high school: getting no ass. His happiest moments were genre moments, like when Akira was released (1988). Pretty sad." pp.49-50

I would recommend this book to: Tim, and possibly my former co-worker Vijay who appreciates a certain level of nerd-dom, but also likes P.G. Wodehouse and John Kennedy Toole. Don't get me wrong though, this book is not to be taken too lightly.

American Psycho
By Brett Easton Ellis
(Begun in Boulder/finished in Plano, TX)

Holy. Hell.

This is the first book I've ever read that I've wanted to hide somewhere out of fear that someone might accidentally open it to one of the pages, read a few lines, and literally have to be taken to the hospital from shock.

I should start by saying that the writing is utterly damn brilliant, and that I could not stop thinking or talking about what I read for days. The movie has nothing on the level of psychosis in this book. If it were merely a book about scum-bag, coke-head, Wall street investment assholes in the 80's, and the self-involved restaurant/technology/fashion-centric VOID which this book proposes that they lived in, that would be fascinating on its own. It's a world I had no experience with, set to an incredible 80's soundtrack of Genesis, Huey Lewis and the News, Whitney Houston, U2 and others.

However, it is also a book about a completely deranged, paranoid, delusional, psychotic serial murderer. Maybe.

The problem with warning you about this book is that no matter how emphatically I tell you how completely and utterly disturbing it is, how sickened you will be by the worst of its scenes, there is a chance that that will only make you more curious about reading it. But the thing is, I'm not kidding when I say that the nightmares this book gave me made me wake up crying, frantic, and in a panic. The images it puts in your mind are indelible. You can't scrub them out. The first third of the book seems pretty harmless, maybe even a little repetitive or boring. But once the crazy comes out, he doesn't go back in--and you will begin to look at the chapter titles with dread.

Even re-reading my warning, I can't stress it enough. This book is brilliantly written, but it is absolutely the most unspeakably horrifying thing I've ever read.

I would recommend this book to: No one, because if I recommend it to you and you're horribly offended I look like an asshole. Also, if I recommend it to you that somehow implies that I think you'll enjoy reading the disgusting things inside of it, which makes YOU look like an asshole. But if you read it on your own, PLEASE CALL ME. Because I'm dying to talk about it.

Good Omens
By Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman
(Begun in Plano/Finished in Crawford, CO)

This book had the difficult task of following American Psycho. The intro to the book toots its own horn for 15 pages about how it has this huge cult following and everyone loves it so much, which totally surprised me because I'd heard of it kind of, but never really cared until Jason bought a copy when I was staying with him and Kristin.

It's the story of the coming apocalypse and an angel and demon who decide that they rather like the earth and would rather not have it some to an end. It's a very British book with lots of phrases that I had to read three times, and was relieved to find out that Jason had to read three times too because I really thought maybe I was just getting dumber. All in all, I enjoyed reading it and wouldn't throw it at the wall or anything, but I'm not going to become one of those supposed people they mention in the introduction who carry it around until it's tattered and unrecognizable and buys a copy for all of my friends. I'm pretty sure my mom read the whole thing in about four hours, which means it's no Paradise Lost.

I would recommend this book to: Anyone who just read American Psycho and wants something brain-melting. Or anyone taking a long-ish flight.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
By Betty Smith
(Begun in Crawford/Finished in DC)

This is an example of how much I loved this book: The copy I bought was on sale for $6 and when I got to page 40-something, I realized that was because every fourth page was printed completely out of order for 60 PAGES IN A ROW. Nevertheless, I read through this misprinted section, flipping back and forth, and trying not to freak out when I forgot about the misprints and accidentally found out that so-and-so had a baby or died or whatever, two pages too early.

When I bought this book, the man behind the counter said "I haven't seen a copy of this in such good condition in a long time"; and unlike the cheesy praise at the beginning of Good Omens, I think that was a very apt complement for this book. It's a beloved classic amongst day-dreamy little girls and after reading it, I'm frankly shocked that I didn't read and re-read it when I was younger. Not that you need to be young to read it, because it's sort of timeless even though it's very much a book about a very specific time and place in American culture.

Besides being another book that makes you smarter without trying (I had no idea that people used to dress up in costumes on Thanksgiving!), the characters it creates are incredibly real. At one point, I wanted to know what happened to one character so badly I actually thought, "I need to look him up on Wikipedia" and then realized, holy crap, this is not real. It doesn't matter that it's not real though, it's the best kind of fiction because it feels real.

I would recommend this book to: My Mom, Kacie and Jessica D. because if you didn't read this when you were pre-teens, it will make you feel the way you used to feel reading books and investing yourself in them with all your crazy passions out of whack and the whole world singing.

The Pleasure of My Company
By Steve Martin
(Begun in Boulder/finished in DC)

Another book about a crazy person. But this one is wholly lovable.

This is a fantastically short and funny novella about finding love when you're OCD. That's really all there is to it.

So far, this is my favorite book by Steve Martin, probably because I think it's his funniest, and also probably because I like people who have weird obsessions, secret genius abilities, and do impulsive things like enter essay-writing contests, join Mensa, drug their neighbors, and appear on crime reenactment shows as themselves.

Really, that really is all there is to it.

I would recommend this book to: Again, Kacie, because it's short and broken up into very short little sections and she's in Grad School and would feel gratified by finishing a bit of non-required reading. And also Jared because he likes crazy people too.

Change is Awesome

I spent my whole first year at Centenary taking FYE, a course that taught how to deal with change and uncertainty gracefully. During that time, all of us were required to read a book put together by Centenary's staff called Negotiating Uncertainty. Everyone hated it. Some people even burned their copies after finals. The other day on the metro I saw a girl carrying a bag that said "CHANGE IS AWESOME" and I wondered how, in the past year, this phenomenon has come about, because CHANGE has always been something people seemed to struggle with.

This is how I know I'm not in college anymore: I got up Saturday morning, my precious Saturday morning, while Tim was still asleep, and I re-read almost all of of Negotiating Uncertainty. Luckily for me, Dr. Shelburn pulled out a perfect quotation from Charles S. Peirce that describes--I feel--a lot of what we've gone through in the past eight years.

"The person who confesses that there is such a thing as truth, which is distinguished from falsehood simply by this, that if acted on it should, on full consideration, carry us to the point we aim at and not astray, and then, though convinced of this, dares not know the truth and seeks to avoid it, is in a sorry state of mind indeed." Charles S. Peirce

I don't think it was intentional. If there's anything I re-learned from re-reading Negotiating Uncertainty, which I now think everyone in America should be required to do, it's that people behave the way they do because they're not equipped to cope with all they're forced to deal with.

We vote for people because we believe that they're capable of dealing with things that we ourselves are not capable of dealing with, and that they will represent our best interests. I think the reason that Barack Obama and the idea of CHANGE holds so much appeal is not just because he appears so utterly capable, so profoundly well-equipped to handle a changing world, and not only because he represents a change from the "old" way of thinking, but because for the past eight years, we've had leaders who refuse to acknowledge CHANGE at all--and Obama so obviously embraces it.

We've had people in power who are convinced that truth will lead to us to the point aim at, but are not ready to find out the truth if the truth means accepting that things have changed.

Things have changed.

And in many ways I'm glad to say that they have, but it makes me sad to see that we haven't dealt with change or uncertainly gracefully, and it's gotten us into a dreadful mess. That, I suppose, is why HOPE is also awesome, in the truest sense of the word "awesome." It's a wonderful thing to see HOPE and CHANGE together in the same time and place. Sometimes I think I can't possibly love this country any more than I already do, and then its people amaze me even more.

Now if I could just wear sneakers...

Shocker. I made it through my first week back at work. I would be lying if I said I wasn't dreading it so much that I cried. A lot. But upon getting back there are actually just about as many pros as there are cons (accepting the fact that I just have to be a grown up and come back and pay bills and have a job. Period. Which is never as good as being free.).

Here they are, the pros and cons:

Cons:

1. When I left I had two requests: send me a copy of the holiday card (which I spent ridiculously long hours working on and never got to see a finished version of) and water my plants every once in while. Neither of these took place. In fact my plants were the only plants in the office that looked like someone had intentionally tried to kill them. And I thought it was shitty that no one could take five seconds to be thoughtful and send me that card--seriously. Jana would have done it, but it wasn't her responsibility and I know she was swamped as it is. :/

2. My desk got totally downgraded. Before I left I spent two months trying to figure out how to fit eleven people in to four rooms by "department" and I finally worked it out. I spent my whole last day moving desks around and in fact, had to WORK on the first day of my vacation because of it. When I got back *I* was the only one who got moved. Two people had been sharing my desk while I was gone and the week before I got back they threw all my stuff on a smaller desk in a dark corner with no window, no trash can, my dead plants, all my stuff in heaps, other people's stuff all over the desk... I'm pretty sure that when you get promoted you're supposed to get a bigger desk and a better office. Not the other way around.

3. Also before I left, I orchestrated a major whole-office clean up, because we have too many people in not enough space. When I walked in, the office was filthy. The kitchen sink was full of dirty dishes, and the table covered with a mish-mash of supplies. The coffee maker had coffee and grounds in it from god-knows-when. Unopened and half-opened boxes of supplies lay all over the office, in every room and trash was scattered all over the floor. The problem is, it still is filthy, because I can't clean up after everyone by myself and I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO. Yesterday I gave in and washed all the dishes and it was exactly like living in the dorms all over again. I. Am. So. Appalled.

4. I just need a window. Period. I hate sitting in that dark corner. Jana was nice enough to give me her lamp, but if you know me, you know how much I depend on sunlight.

Pros:

1. Leaving was like setting the reset button. If I hadn't left, I know for sure that I'd still be stuck with all of the administrative responsibilities that I was in charge of before and that shouldn't be part of my marketing job. There's nothing like having to fix the phones when you're supposed to be sending 1000 event invitations out to clients 3 days ago.

2. I love my new office mates. Joe cusses like a sailor and drinks Grey Goose at his desk on Fridays. Pam is equally hilarious, but without the cussing and she just doesn't come to work at all on Fridays. They both talk to their emails out loud. On our second day they told me they intentionally tried to get me in that office because I "have manners" and then they tried to convert me to Judaism.

3. God I'm glad my raise finally kicked in.

4. I do like my work more. It's only the first week, so I know that more frustrating projects will come and things will happen that I won't like. But for right now, I'm liking things. I answer to a new VP of Marketing who is in the New York office and I like his temperament and style. Overall, I get the impression that Marketing is being taken much more seriously and that I won't have to fight to get the materials and the support that I need to get my job done.

So the overall verdict is that it's a draw. I'm doing ok.

Also, I lost almost 20 pounds since I left for my vacation. I didn't even do anything. The jeans that Kristin and I spent like, four days shopping for are now too big for me. What the hell? I'm not complaining, I'm just saying, what the hell?

National Lampoon's Extended Vacation

The weirdest thing about being back in my apartment is that I can't remember where anything is. You would think, since I'm the one who put them there, and since I've lived here for over a year, and since this is a one bedroom apartment, I would be able to find the potholders. But no.

In case anyone was worried that my two month vacation might suck, put your fears to rest. It was awesome. So awesome in fact that it has apparently wiped everything domestic out of my brain. Because I remember where all the fun things in my apartment are, like my most comfortable t-shirts, my bubble bath, and the wii remotes, but I can't remember where anything in the kitchen goes. Oops.

So, there were no bad parts to this trip. I'm so glad I went. It was exactly as productive as I had hoped in the graduate school application department, because as it turns out I am S-P-O-I-L-E-D for wireless internet and basically can't function without it. I did really well on my applications at Jason and Kristin's house because, well, they're like me. I've never really realized how totally helpless and completely CRANKY I am without 24-7 internet access on my laptop in any room of the house. I'm accustomed to being able to look something up whenever I want to, and I'm accustomed to being able to spend long, leisurely hours, HOURS, on the internet doing whatever. I'm not saying I want the internet present in my face at all times (Hello? Tim? iPhone. WIKIPEDIA WHILE YOU'RE DRIVING? AHEM.), I'm just saying I want it when I want it. And not having it made it sooooooooo hard to find the inspiration to work on my applications, when I could have been hanging out with my friends and family instead.

Anyway, I can't believe how long ago I left. I lived with Jason and Kristin for like two whole weeks a month and a half ago and found that basically, their lives are just like me and Tim's lives, only with more dogs, a way better house, and much more Steph/Mikey face time, obviously. Oh, and Kristin has a way cooler job than I do--I still find it ironic that she works at a sweet-ass museum and she lives in rural Arkansas and I DO NOT work at a sweet-ass museum when I live in the sweet-ass museum capital of the country. My jealousy is palpable.

Also, they have vehicles, which makes me envy them.

Honestly, if you're going to pick between coming to visit us and going to visit them... for my sake I say come visit me. But really, go visit them. Beside being the difference between sleeping on the blue couch and sleeping in a real, actual bed in a bedroom with a door, and waking up to cute baby foxes outside or waking up to sirens and homeless people yelling at eachother, Fayetteville etc. is all cute and fun and campingy and DC is just loud and expensive. Besides, Kristin makes these S'mores in the oven that are ridiculous.

After Arkansas, I went to Boulder and stayed at my Dad's house for about three weeks. My Parents bought that house when I was two... the train still goes by, blowing it's whistle early early in the morning, when it snows the whole house is warm but the window in my bedroom is cold... it's just really familiar. I got to the point at the end of the three weeks where I thought "I could stay here, this is just fine." Nevermind that I'm 25 and have responsibilities and no one ASKED me if I wanted to stay there... but still.

I got to see my friend Eben while I was there. This is no small feat. Eben and I have been friends for a long time, we walked together at our high school graduation. We've kept in touch for the past seven years, talking on the phone and always planning to meet up but never quite making it. With some people, I think this is intentional, a way to keep friends without having to see them and realize you have nothing in common. But that's not the case here, I hadn't actually seen his face since 2001 but every time we talked you wouldn't know it. He dated someone for five years and I never met her--this strikes me as completely amazing and ridiculous.

Anyway, we finally got to hang out and we went like gangbusters, nevermind that the last time I saw him I wasn't old enough to buy cigarettes. It's funny how there are some people like that in life. Thank god for them.

I hope that my Centenary friends stay that way. Obviously, not all of them will because there are already people you see and you go "Jesus, do I know you?" but I suppose that ones that matter... Like 96% of the ones that mattered were at Abram and Jessica's wedding in Shreveport, which was the next step on the Voyage Royale. Poor Tim was sick as a dog and completely lost his voice, which I think everyone chalked up drunken yelling in the bar but really was just from being sick, which is way worse. The whole weekend was like one giant reunion which was awesomely Abram-and-Jessica-Centered but also sadly Abram-and-Jessica-Lacking because they were so busy, but that's how weddings usually are. Also I think I have a "celebrity" complex that makes me automatically stay away from people who are supposed to be the center of attention because I don't want to be a pest. So, here's a note, if you're reading this and you're getting married um, ever, and I ignore you at your wedding it's not because I'm being aloof, it because I'm trying not monopolize. Secretly, I want to bother you a lot.

Anyway, it was spectacular to see everyone and as usual I cried in the car on the way into Shreveport from happiness and I cried in the car as we left because I didn't want to leave. Who knew that Shreveport of all places would do that?

Sadly, there's not too much to report about the time I got to spend in Plano because I was trying to work on applications and Tim was writing reams upon reams of papers. This is particularly depressing, because I feel like like I'm always wishing we could just go to Plano for the weekend like we used to do in College. It's not like we did it that often, but it was always so nice to just pack up and go see Tim's family for the weekend. We got a little dose of that, but mostly we just spent a lot of time in the Richardson library. I think I saw both sets of his grandparents about 1.5 times.

Of course, all of his papers were due the day before I left, so since I left for Crawford he's been free to do all sorts of things. :) That's how it goes.

Crawford was the last leg of my trip. If I could finish my education and find a decent job there, I would move back to Crawford in a heartbeat. I miss it so much. I don't know how to make that happen yet, but I'm working on it. It's usually really good for me to be there, but this time I caught some sort of horrid nasty virus that turned into bronchitis and I still can't stop coughing. Mom and I both spent all of Christmas day and most of the week thereafter laying on the couch coughing and moaning.

On the bright side, the snow was deep and for most of the trip it snowed so hard I couldn't see across the road. I got to play with my dogs again, which I love more than just about anything, even though Dixie is fat like a tick and Buster... well, actually Buster is perfect. I got to decorate a real christmas tree that had been cut down in the real woods by real people. And I caught a pinapple on fire. Well... my mom and I made this pineapple flambé thing for dessert at my grandparents' house and only moderately caught the table on fire, unlike last time when they ACTUALLY caught the table on fire.

And I obviously knew before I left that I wanted to get out of DC, or I wouldn't have wanted to take a two-month, unpaid leave of absense. But now I am more positive than ever--even if living somewhere else meant having bronchitis for the rest of my life, or working at a coffee shop, or having to (GASP) get a driver's license, or oh... I don't know... at least it wouldn't be here. Lord help me, I'm going to be paying the bill from this trip forever, but I'm glad I went.