On finding things...

I woke up in the middle of the night, played some free cell, drew a bath (which dripped into my neighbor downstairs' bathroom--the landlord has tried to fix this a million and one times it seems...) and watched Disc One of Season One of Friends. That very first episode (Rachel coming into Central Perk, dripping wet in her wedding gown) is my favorite, but the great thing about the DVD is that the shows are uncut--so you get stuff you've never seen on TV. I still haven't figured out how to do anything on my DVD player besides play discs--at some point I'd like to be able to access the special features, but I think I have to program the remote.

Yesterday I bought three papers: the Sunday Post-Gazette, and the Saturday Post-Gazette and Tribune-Review. When something happens (like 9/11, or the death of a mayor) I like to read all about it. I haven't read them yet, but in a bit I'll go to Tazza for my tomato sandwich and I'll take something with me to read...I have less than 75 pages left in East of Eden.

I had a notebook (or rather, still have it) that is based on the Sue Bender book Plain and Simple. I couldn't find it. But a few weeks ago, it surfaced, and this morning I read through it. Inside I found the 24 year old me--wow, ten years! and lots of annotations since then.

I also found this poem, which I wrote on July 7, 1996. Yeah, that was a crazy summer, ten years ago.

Trial Size

Trial size?
Who are they kidding?
No 3 oz. bottle is going to get me
through the next "and it came to pass."

************

My baby brother is moving to Austin this week. I don't often think of him as my "baby brother" but this move has got me all confused--he's moving, and it's not for college, it's not to any place the Louise family has ever been...he's all growed up! (But not quite...) Traveling mercies, m'dear!

************

A mini-mystery: the website "I heart Pittsburgh" which has been a source of local information since I read about the Beleza coffeehouse on the North Side, has been swallowed by the web. If you click on it (under "local shoes," on the sidebar) you get some random advertising thing with a message that the domain name has expired.

So, one thing found, one thing lost.

...picked up a paper, it was more bad news...

(Jewel)

At 8:55 pm, Bob O'Connor, Pittsburgh's mayor, breathed his last. (Post Gazette article)

I've never seen a Wikipedia article that had "This article documents a current event. Information may change rapidly as the event progresses." It already shows that he's been succeeded by Luke Ravenstahl, who is City Council President, and at 26, the youngest mayor of Pittsburgh. There will be a swearing in at 10:30 pm.

The only TV channel I barely get that is following the story is KDKA, and it is snowy and staticy. Oh to have cable at a time like this...

Okay, it's 10pm and the Channel 53 news is on.

It was his dream to be the mayor of Pittsburgh.

*************

In other news, Abaté, my favorite gasthaus, has closed its doors after 23 years.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled life....

THE CELL PHONE IS HERE!!!
W
O
O

H
O
O
!

The only snag is that it is a 703 area code (Virginia) and I live in Pittsburgh, but for two more years on the family plan at ~$17, I'll take it.

A circle is round....(some thoughts on friendship)

Make new friends, but keep the old,
one is silver but the other's gold.

A circle is round, it has no end,
that's how long I want to be your friend. (Traditional song)

It's almost September, and in Pittsburgh as in most of the lower 48 and I imagine Canada as well, it is time for school to start. I'm not in school right now, but the industry in which I work (librarianship) is pretty hard-wired to the scholastic schedule.

I've been thinking about friendship a lot lately, and how one's life is cyclic in this manner--you make new friends, keep the old, or not...I enjoy meeting new people, and I always attempt to make room in my life for them. I imagine, now, as I contemplate on it, that a lot of it has to do with my dad, in two arenas: one, his job meant that we moved every three years or so when I was a child, and two, for my dad, a stranger is just a friend he hasn't met yet.

For instance, Sunday, we went to Bellefield for morning church, as my dad would be driving down to Virginia after lunch. While my dad was using the loo, I chatted with Than, who works at Bellefield but attends the Open Door. My dad came 'round the corner, and I introduced the two men, saying, "Than is from Kansas." My father was in grad school for two years there. Well, wouldn't you know (I didn't!) that they both had lived in Manhattan (though at least 35 years apart in time.) They exchanged stories and Than looked a lot perkier after talking to my dad than he had while talking to me.

These two men may never meet again, but they might, and that is the magic my father has about building bridges.

Last night I had dinner with Lilly. We hadn't done that for a while, and about midday, frustrated with the state of things (working on CD-ROMs this week) I emailed her, saying, short notice, but wanna meet for dinner? She did!! AND, she was staying in Carrick at her brother's, watching the dawgs (greyhounds) so I had ample excuse to suggest my favorite Homestead gasthaus, Pizzeria Uno.

It never ceases to amaze me how wonderful it is to have dinner with an old friend. Lilly is about, mmm, maybe ten years older, and she's divorced, three grown kids, she's been through the bipolar bit (though she miraculously now gets by without meds!)--she is the friend equivalent to a comfortable old shoe that keeps getting more beautiful (and newer?) each time you wear it (I'm clearly not sure where I'm going with that metaphor...) Anyways, she's pretty much been through everything I've been through and more. So she understands the process of my life more than any other one of my friends. We've had our spats and cold wars but we've made it through. I will be eternally grateful, and I don't say that lightly--her relationship with Christ is one to emulate.

I often read books on the recommendation of a friend, and so I'm almost half-way through East of Eden. The first 30 pages had me mad, as there were only caricature female characters, but then I met Olive, if only for a few more pages, so all was right. But man, this is Steinbeck at dark. Cold-blooded? You ain't met them until you met...well, I won't give it away. Pat is also reading it, and Carlos is waiting patiently (actually not) while we finish, as it is his favorite book and he wants to talk with us about it. So I may get to have a book club meeting of sorts--GLEE! Carlos is living my dream--he's already doing the MFA (Master in Fine Arts) in Writing at Pitt. Meeting him at the OD whilst prepping for the Saturday Farmer's Market nudged me forward in thinking about the Carlow program. More on that later.

Today or tomorrow or yesterday (pick the second day of school) marks the 17th anniversary of a friendship that right now is in an extended cold war. I met Sara at a friend's birthday party in late August but we didn't click until we were in the same Chemistry class my junior year of high school and she came in with glee, "My sister just had a baby!" Our friendship grew over the first semester and soon we were inseperable. We had a list of things that we had in common, not the least being our names--she was Susan and I was Susie. (Yes, that was a slip of my "real" name--it would work with Sarah and Sara, but I wanted to slip for a minute.) (Child's adamant voice: I meant to do it that way!) Besides, I've found that now at least three folks have me linked using my real first name to this blog and that's okay... it would be too fussy to complain to those folks that my blog is being written by Sarah Louise.

Over the years, Sara and I stayed in touch long distance, over the phone, and through ShoeBox cards. We'd see each other every three years or so once I finished college. I moved to Pittsburgh, she moved to Front Royal, and then Rhode Island, and finally where she is now, near Boston. She got married, had two gorgeous kids, ovarian cancer, and went back to school. I stayed single, had a suicidal boyfriend and a trail of bad news boys after that, bipolar disorder, and the same apartment for eleven years. I'd call her and be able to tell her things I couldn't say to any other friend because we knew each other so well and for so long. More often than not, it was my nickle, but she didn't really have the nickles to be calling long distance, so I didn't mind, because it was joy to talk to her.

Then I went to visit her this past March. We were both excited, our first face to face in six years. I hadn't met her daughter, and well, it was just going to be fun. Then I had an exhausting time at the conference in Boston, was the most homesick I'd been in ages, and basically mental health-wise had the whiniest most unstable week in years the following week, whilst visiting my best friend from high school. Um, not a real good situation. I won't go into all the details, as it's water under the bridge and unfair to both of us to regurgitate and review those angsty days. A few good things: We went to see Failure to Launch, I decorated the cutest little purse with buttons and I got to see another friend from high school, actually the one at whose birthday I first met Sara. I should send her a birthday card...

Anyways, to make a long story short, when I was prepping for the stuffed animal sleepover, I wanted to try out Walgreen's online photo operation--you email them your digi pix and it's some cheap price like 19 cents a print in one hour. I wanted to have a dry run so that I knew the process worked. So, which digi pix did I want to print? Well, I did have the pix that Sara took when I gave her daughter the EasyBake Oven. So I sent those in. Well, I had to have them done at the Penn Hills Walgreen's, as the East Lib Walgreen's photo operation was down for the moment when I was doing my dry run. PH is about 13 minutes away, but I didn't know where it was, and I wasn't exactly thrilled to send the pix to Sara, not knowing if she'd respond, if I wanted her to. But I knew it was the right thing to do. So Tuesday, I had the morning to myself before doc visits and then my first day back at work, so I Yahoo! mapped the trek to the PH Walgreen's. I picked up the pix and went to the card dept to find a card. I found a nice Maya Angelou card that I liked the front of. (The inside was only for friends with valid passports.) So I figured, I'd cut the front off and mail it with the pix. But I couldn't resist looking at the ShoeBox display. Sara would always send me the Maxine cards. I probably have most of them, tucked in a drawer in my closet.

I bought two ShoeBox cards: (front) "I'm lucky to have a friend like you." (inside) "All my other friends are normal." and (front) A good friend will know how you take your coffee. (inside) A great friend will add booze.

I don't know why I bought them.

I drove to the Edgewood library, borrowed a pair of scissors, cut the front off the Maya Angelou card, wrote a quick note, padded the pictures with an insert from the copy of People I couldn't resist (Exclusive interview with Jennifer Anniston: I'm not engaged!) and addressed the envelope. I mailed it at the post office on the way home.

I'm still grieving. Right now I'm very possessive of my other friends, worrying if I haven't heard from them in the past day or so, and checking my email obsessively. Part of it is returning to work, but a lot of it is because I'm still grieving this not quite a death. Part of it is letting go of a crush I had for over a year and having to see that person occasionally at church and actually have conversation (agony!). Part of it is letting go of other friendships--and realizing "let's do lunch" doesn't always mean the words, it's just something to say to fill the air. Part of it is the reality of turning 35 in November.

She was my gold. So it's time to take a look at some of the silver's and promote them to gold. After all, isn't that what happens in September? The green leaves turn gold as the autumn air moves through.

I wrote this in college about a guy who was a friend for a semester my freshman year:

Your Friendship Hand

We walked through the fallen falling leaves, brown and wet,
decaying, smelling up our noses
with that autumnal perfume
that is uncommon in the city.
And we stumbled down a hill
You offered your friendship hand
So I would not fall.

Update: Whew!

So I decided it's time to get that MFA in Writing. Egad. Which means I need writing samples and people to write recommends. So, two birds with one stone, I just signed up for a writing class starting Sept 18. The teacher is a woman I worked with at Fox Books, lo, eons ago. I took a class in January with her.

Also: the lacroscopic surgery is scheduled: Oct 4.

I'll need to take a week off work. Here are a few posts if you are new here: sonogram, why.

Nothing like coming back to work on your first day back, and saying, guess what, I need a week off!

Plus, the telephone tag on that could easily add up to a full day of back and forth (as they called 2x while I was on vackay).

My mother may come to stay while I recover, which has got the fire under me to clean this garret, and SOON!

But now, I must flip a load of laundry and off to work, DAY TWO. Thank you all for your encouraging words. You're golden.

Happy Valentine's Day

When I was in kindergarden, I thought saying Happy Valentine's Day was like Have a good day and so for weeks into March, as my dad left for work, I'd say, Happy Valentine's Day. Now it's a tender joke between us. I don't feel like being real right now, so I'll be giddy and wish yins a Happy Valentine's Day!!

Your Candy Heart Says "Hug Me"

A total sweetheart, you always have a lot of love to give out. Your heart is open to where ever love takes you! Your ideal Valentine's Day date: a surprise romantic evening that you've planned out Your flirting style: lots of listening and talking What turns you off: fighting and conflict Why you're hot: you're fearless about falling in love

What Does Your Candy Heart Say?

The book that Meme

1. A book that changed your life. Dicey's Song by Cynthia Voigt. Dicey's perserverence tugged on me, and I became a Voigt convert until she started the Bad Girls books, which are, in my opinion, the not good kind of Bad.
2. A book you've read more than once. Besides Dicey's Song, Persuasion, Eat Cake, About a Boy, White Orchids...I tend to read fast and often forget or miss details, so rereading I often find things I missed the first time. Oh, how can I forget: Girls Poker Night.
3. A book you'd want on a deserted island. Robinson Crusoe, Swiss Family Robinson, a guide to building boats, and an atlas.
4. A book that made you giddy. Sisterchicks do the Hula. It's very funny and the type of book I want to write.
5. A book that you wish had been written. Honeymoon.
6. A book that wracked you with sobs. Searching for Caleb. I don't remember much now, but when I read it, I remember I was crying 20 pages before I got to the end and to the end.
7. A book you wish had never been written. The Bad Girls books by C.Voigt (see above).
8. A book you are currently reading. East of Eden by John Steinbeck which thus far has no redeeming female characters.
9. A book you've been meaning to read. White Teeth, now that LC has recommended it, (no one told me it was funny either) and Vickie loved it...

Maybe I'll link this up tomorrow. Right now, it's bedtime for Bonzo (and Sarah Louise).

Catch ya on the flip side...

Sarah Louise returns to her garret, with glee!

How I love vacation. My favorite part: coming home!

Haven't unpacked tho--after spending 7 days of being a daughter and sister, my apartment seemed altogether lonely. So I emailed and called and got no one!! (Well, I did talk briefly with Sis.)

So, in an effort to further procrastinate packing, I'll give a brief up to date:

• I had two messages about my sonogram on the phone machine. Hmm, methinks they found something??
• My WBCs are great, so I don't have to change meds.
• The wedding (Em and Jim) is either Nov 4 or 11. I'm pulling for 11, as I won't have to switch up my scheduled children's Saturday shift.
• I did a major part of the driving (and some of it in pea soup fog) from Hamlin, PA to Pittsburgh, PA.
• I'll do that book blog thing-y soon.
• I have pictures, which I'll post.
• I am back in "it's time to get the MFA in Writing" mode. It's a limited residency thing at Carlow, 6 days in January, 6 days in June, so I could keep working!!

Am I actually tired enough to hit the sack? I slept A LOT on vackay. One night I even went to bed at 8!

More later, my dear Internets. I am so glad to be HOME!

Tidbit from my talking in my sleep last night (yes, I do this all the time, but only hear about it when I share a room with someone, as I did all week with Sis.): "But I go to church Sunday nights" (apparently, someone wanted me somewhere else Sunday evening...)

Tomorrow I'll go to church twice--in the morning with Dad, who is in a motel in Harmar and will come by 8:30ish so we can go to Tazza for Sunday brunch b4 church.

Buh-bye!!

Eight things (tagged by Carolyn)

This is called posting on the road--stuff that's been waiting to be posted. I'm in a one room library in Hamlin, PA while my dad is at the grocery store.

1. I have a signature laugh. People recognize me by it. It embarrasses my family but my friends love it.
2. I love movies. I love them in the theatre. The summer it came out, I saw Twister over 10 times in the theatre and that's a low guesstimate.
3. I always watch the credits. I stay until the lights come up. I'm fascinated by details like the names of the people who do stuff: gaffer, Best Boy; I like knowing where it was filmed on location; I like knowing what songs are in the soundtrack.
4. I love soundtracks. Two favorites from this decade: Drive Me Crazy and Sliding Doors. I lost my copy of the soundtrack to Brokedown Palace. Two movies that didn't release soundtracks that I would have purchased: Wedding Bell Blues and Picture Perfect.
5. I generally like both the movie and the book. I am fiercely loyal on this topic.
6. I only buy pink Kleenex.
7. I have three pairs of pink sneakers.
8. I own at least three copies of Jane Austen's novel last novel, Persuasion.

testing 123

well, i just tried to post an old post, but blogger was being finicky. Let's see if this will post.

A road map always tells you everything except how to refold it.

(Anon?)

Thoughts about maps and roads:

I hate road maps. The foldy kind at least. I like the books, in large print, with a spiral. Currently, though, I don't own a Pittsburgh one. So the other day I drove until I got to a fork and then followed the convertible, and voila! I knew where I was. Oh, it was deevine.

But my favorite map right now is a map of the world. I click on my site meter to see where people are that read my blog. Oh, it is so much fun. I've had visits from Austria, Australia, Phillipines, and even Pittsburgh. (Oh, that was me.)

I've even had at least one visitor from Poland!

When I was in college, the church I went to had a map of the world on the wall and little red push pins where missionaries lived. It had the name-places in the language of that country. So Warsaw was Warszawa and Cologne was Köln and so on. I visited the map faithfully, fingering Warszawa and then picking out other places I'd been. It was comforting. I couldn't see my family, but at least I could see where they were on the world map.

Rule of driving in Pittsburgh: if you want to know where to go, follow any stream of two or more cars. In a traffic jam, follow any one car that is going away from the jam. They know a shortcut. (I've found at least two of my favorite 'cuts this way.)

My dad is fond of saying, "Have you got your Kit Carson Trailblazing Kit?"

I'm off to ze Poconos--I'll be back in a week (sooner if I can wrangle the laptop from my dad...) Read my archives. I think they're great...

Aufstehen

(German for "Getting up.")

It hit me with a wall of bricks this morning. It=crippling depression. I don't want to go on my walk, I don't want to eat breakfast, I don't want to do anything that has "today" marked on it. Stay on the sofa and watch "About a Boy"? Okay...

So, let's rewind. Yesterday I had to leave our lunch date early (Sally and I were having so much fun window shopping) to drive like a NASCAR driver to get to the dentist. (They were able to fit me in at 2:30.) To discover I had a cavity. Not a big one, but he filled it there and then, so for the rest of the day, half my face was numb.

I stopped in at ye olde Library and picked up a hold item and picked out some other items (of course. One was The Girls, (not the one Babs just read) which I started a few years ago, didn't have the time to finish. I also picked up two by Erica Jong, books I've been meaning to read: Fear of Flying and How to Save Your Own Life. The piece de resistance, though, is a 20 CD set of Eugene Peterson's The Message//Remix.

And I don't have enough milk in the house for breakfast.

And today I have to pack.

And Dad doesn't have the cell phones yet--I have to be there for the process so we'll do it on vacation??

And today is the all important blood test to see if my WBCs are up--if not, we may have to change my meds (two months of bumpy emotions--yum.)

Today is also the second pelvic sonogram. Which means I have to drink lots of water and "hold it" for 2 1/2 hours before the sonogram.

Yesterday I watched the season finale of Sex and the City. Ah, the romance.

Today I also will attempt to wrap the housekeeping--which may involve emptying the contents of my kitchen cupboards if I still have bugs.

Our mayor is not doing well in his brain lymphoma. But he is using postage for the thank you cards he's sending.

They may have found the person who killed Jon Benet Ramsey.

When you're depressed, it IS every little thing.

So what am I to do? I am driving to McD's for a breakfast something and then off to give some blood for the betterment of me.

All shall be well, by and by. And watching "About a Boy"? I think that is an excellent idea, just what Herr Doctor ordered.

Chuss!

Maybe I'll "link this up" later. Right now, my stomach is shouting and if she won't listen to reason, at least she'll listen to that! Please send hugs.

Here I raise my Ebenezer

This is my Ebenezer. It's a cross I built over the course of weeks and months of praying as I walked the Seminary grounds. That particular prayer has been answered with an undeniable NO and I am gleeful, laughing, as I think of how far I've come, how I wonder what might be next.

This is from a post I wrote in July.

One morning this week, upon waking, I started humming “Here I raise my Ebenezer” which is the second verse of “Come Thou Fount…” Last night at the Sharp Edge, Babs and I were discussing what posts we had on the back burner. I said, a shoe post, of course (here’s hers), and the up to three meme from Bookhart. And a paragraph so far on this old hymn, “Come thou Fount.” Oh, she says, I have that Easter one in my head right now, the one that goes “A-hhh-le-luia.” So then we both try to hum, “Come thou Fount” and fail miserably. I finally get it going. Yes, so get the mental image of two tired librarians, with our Yuenglings, hungry as ever, humming hymns at the Sharp Edge.I like the idea of an Ebenezer, a rock that one places because “God has helped us.” In the Old Testament, the Patriarchs (Abraham and his dudes) were forever placing rocks and calling a place “Beth-el” or “Ebenezer” or what have you, after God did some amazing thing. It was a visible reminder to them, and I guess to anyone who stopped by. I guess the modern equivalent would be memorials—like the Vietnam Memorial, or the Civil Rights Memorial which my dad visited after he was done conventioneering with the Presbyterians in Birmingham last week. Except that those all seem to be memorials to deaths or cataclysmic events. I’m just rambling here…

Who are you and where have you put Sarah Louise?

(Babs, when I told her I was doing laundry out the wazoo and slogging through a book I didn't care for.)

Well, the Energizer bunny has left the building. I'm tired and I'm going to bed. Two more DVDs of Season Six, Part Two--one for Thursday, one for Friday.

Today, in between episodes, I cleaned and weeded my work email. UGH. It takes at least 5 minutes to connect to the server and the spam is unbelievable. There. is. so. much. of. it.

I went briefly to a friend's for her Bible Study--one I'd been a part of, ages ago. It was small tonight, but I didn't stay long.

I'm learning to be patient with myself--which if you haven't tried it, is VERY HARD.

So I'll win a few games of Free Cell and off to bed! Tomorrow is another day.

(In which I have to go see the dentist as my teeth are acting all sensitive--I wouldn't worry except, I'll be on vackay next week....in the woods.)

Meeting Jesus in your emails...

Isn't that a great title?

My Yahoo! toolbar told me I had 4 new messages. Yay! I thought. No--they were one from the library, one from my Daily Page-A-Day calendar, and one from an online newsletter I've been too lazy to unsubscribe from, and one from Christianity Today Connection, titled "What (Not All) Women Want" which I thought--didn't I read this article somewhere? I had, indeed (last week on the CT website. But I didn't know the writer was from (think real fast, my favorite foreign country) Poland. I hadn't noticed that her name was Agnieszka.

Well, okay, so it's not a personal email, but I'll browse through her (convieniently linked) other articles. I read one on buying or not buying a cashmere sweater, and then pounced (yes, pounced) on this one, about one of my favorite writers, Ann Lamott. It's called, "Jesusy Ann Lamott: chatting with a born again paradox." READ IT!

I gotta go--the day is full, and yes, this afternoon will likely be another Season Six marathon as I try to ship shape this apartment in prep for vacation.

This morning I cried in prayer. God is really getting to me these days, and it is Good.

Other things that can happen every 30 or so minutes:

I have just watched 3 more episodes of Sex and the City (Season 6, Pt. 1). I have also updated my bank accounts, transferred money, paid two delinquent bills, and gotten a late fee waived.

Meanwhile, Carrie has been dumped by a Post-it note, Charlotte got engaged (again), and Samantha is someone's girlfriend (sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g).

I think I will call this "girl week." I think next year I'm doing it without the 20% pay cut for medical leave. Today, Eileen and I went to Qdoba (we have to stop eating beans and rice--neither of us could finish, we were so full!) and then Goodwill. Tomorrow Alyssa and I are picnicking in the Park, and Thursday, Sally and I are celebrating her birthday a day early by window shopping the shops and galleries on Ellesworth Street. I still have not made it to the pool, though. Friday?

After lunch, I drove to the North Hills to get blood drawn and made an instant friend when I confided to my phlebo-whatever they're called, the lab techs that take your blood, that I was Bipolar II. "So am I," she whispered. So we exchanged stories. And for the record, she was the nicest, sanest person I dealt with all afternoon at that hospital.

On the way home, I Get-Go'd my gas tank (32 cents off per gallon!!) and got milk. Then, there was, what? Italian Ice at the tennis courts? Am I hallucinating? (Our Italian Ice guy died in March.) I almost drove by, but got over that fast and parked. I got a picture and got two watermelon ices, one for me and one for Babs, who has been painting the back porch. It wasn't the best ice we'd had, but it was cold, and we are so glad that there is Italian Ice in Highland Park once more!! It was a classic case of "it's the thought that counts."

Babs continued painting and we continued talking until I remembered that I had purchased milk and it was probably sweating away in the car. So I went home and did all that stuff. I still have about three loads of laundry, but I might have to switch gears and do dishes, since laundry can wait but you don't want to leave for a week with dirty dishes. (Unless you have Carolyn's mom.)

Sigh.

But it's only Tuesday, and I am making headway. Go me!

There is nothing in a caterpillar that tells you it's going to be a butterfly.

(Buckminster Fuller)

Happy Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to all my Catholic readers!

Was just over at BTS, which is my first bloggy stop, every day of the week, and re-read Gina's "It's Raining Men" post. Comments were wonky last night, so I couldn't comment, but overnight, I seem to have become Chatty Cathy again in the Comments department. Here's a snippet of what I wrote:

Going through a similar sort of metamorphosis--it's kind of like coming out of the cocoon and discovering you're a monarch and you have to figure out what Mexico is and how the heck to get there.

It occurred to me, as I was writing this, that the book, the Hungry Caterpillar, spends so little time on the fact that he ends up a butterfly. Which is fine--I am not criticizing this CLASSIC, only going, huh! The sequel, then, perhaps, if the butterfly is a monarch (which I don't think s/he is, but play along here, with me) is Gotta Go! Gotta Go! which, funnily enough, is not a potty training book but a book about a monarch who discovers she has to go to Mexico. It is the cutest little book ever. From the book: "I don't know much, but I know what I know. I gotta go! I gotta go! I gotta go to Mexico!"

I saw a monarch yesterday. I watched it on a butterfly bush outside the Shaler library. Oh I have such an affinity for them. Other butterflies are okay, understand, but I adore monarchs.

beep** your time is up **beep

Stay tuned...

The Family Plan and roaming, aimlessly (the writing, I mean)

So it's that time of year: the family vackay! Plus the cell phone fiasco, my brother is still on crutches, and my mom fell on 55th St while attending a cousin's baptism in NYC. Bro and Mom have doctor appts in the near future. I still don't know how I'm getting to the cottage (am I going to Virginia and then the cottage, am I taking a bus to Eastern PA and getting met?)

Oy.

Life might be simpler if I drove long distances well by myself, or if I got my own cell phone plan, instead of staying on the Family Plan. (Two hours and I gotta stop for a long time. I don't want my own cell phone plan yet!!)

But life, I've discovered, is rarely simple.

So sometimes you have a conversation with your father that is more like a business meeting and you feel like you have to get all your points in there, such as:

Please can we go to The Restaurant in Hawley for their anniv, which falls on the Wednesday of vackay?
Can Sis and I take trips into town? (I am NOT a woods and lake person--I need sidewalks and shops) (I shudder to think that I may be sans Internet for a week...)

I probably won't get a phone until I get back to the family pod, at whichever geographic locale that is. My phone will probably NOT have a Pittsburgh area code, but this should be temporary. It may have a MD/DC/VA area code as Cingular changes over their markets.

Did I mention that my dad wants me to get AAA tour books for Arkansas and Oklahoma? For Christmas, from me, he is getting his OWN Triple A membership.

And while the depression IS lifting, yay! I am discovering that sometimes you need to crawl before you run.

My therapist noted that the nosedive started on June 26. So if it's been almost 2 months of nosedive, I can't expect to correct altitude overnight (enough with the airplane analogies...)

Like yesterday: I had a wonderful morning with Emily at SHAG* (I love this acronym--South Hills Assemblies of God) and then lunch, as Jules (her man) had to go spend three hours (YES, three hours) putting on clown makeup and Emily figured having lunch with me and then a nap would be more interesting. I was doing GREAT. (Relatively.) But my energy lags: last night I couldn't sit in church and so amused myself on the porch for awhile, journaling as cars drove by on Stanton Ave.

*actually, the "of God" part is my addition -- I think if they go by acronyms -- which I don't think they do, they'd go by SHA, which is a little less funny.

I wanted to RUN and go home and be by myself, but I stuck it out.

If you're good, tomorrow I'll regale you with the story of the baptism performed by a Presbyterian Lay Minister, full immersion in the Allegheny River.

One foot in front. And another. Just one step. One more. Onward. Slowly, but surely.

And it feels so crappy to not be my commenting self--I (yes, me, the one that writes comment novels) feel silenced. And I feel like my posts are pretty bland too.

This.
too.
shall.
pass.

Gotta go!

Movie Reviews

Like the poor wayfaring stranger that they speak about in song
I'm just a weary pilgrim trying to find my own way home
Oh sweet Jesus if you're out there, keep me ever close to you
As I'm travelin', travelin', travelin', as I'm travelin' thru
(Dolly Parton, from the song Travelin' Through on the Transamerica soundtrack.)

Just finished watching Transamerica. Wow. We live in such a screwed up world, and I mean that in the best sense. I could only respect the characters for their courage. True guts in that movie, true guts. I don't know how to blog about it, though.

I mean, it makes you want to not trust people, because they'll screw you over, and then you want to trust, because there IS hope. I liked the Dolly Parton song at the end.

I know very little about the subject matter, which the story of a trans-gendered man pre-operation. Who discovers s/he has a son. Who...The plot has more twists than a rollercoaster. But what I do know is that the human spirit was brought through in that movie out of screwed-up-ness, big time.

Horse of a completely different color: You, Me, and Dupree. Was that movie ever hysterical! Emily and I laughed and laughed and laughed some more. It's the story of a newly married couple and the husband's best friend who moves in temporarily because he lost his job. Lance Armstrong does a cameo after the credits--which is why you should always stay for the credits (I'm talking directly to my sister on that one...she always makes a fuss when I stay for them.)

And I finished the fifth season of Sex and the City. Butterflies figured into the season finale. I like butterflies.

***********
Tomorrow, after my tomato and cheddar samwich at Tazza, I'll go to Fox Books until the Cingular store opens at eleven to get a replacement phone.

Today felt like an entire month packed into 24 short hours: discovering the phone loss, driving out to Homestead to look for the phone, talking with Emily about how well she's doing the friend thing even as she's engaged (they found rings today!), talking to my mom, playing tele-tag with everyone, going to a birthday party, going to a pre-Baptism party (I didn't stay long), watching Transamerica...I'm surprised I don't have whip lash. I saw people I haven't seen in months and it was good to see that they're doing well.

We are all just travelin' thru.

The kind of conversations our machines have...

Me to the machine in Virginia: Hi to the rodents, this is #1 calling. Talk talk talk. (I leave long windy messages often to those I love.)

Mom to the machine in Pittsburgh: Hi walls. Hi floor. Hi kitchen. Calling to say hello to the walls, hello to Sarah Louise, love you, Bye.

Still no phone, but I do have the last 4 of Dad's SSN, so I'm in business!