Hooray for a super productive weekend! I managed to get all my laundry done (including the seldom washed stuff like throw rugs), washed the dishes, vacuumed the floor, paid my taxes, cleaned out 4 bags of stuff to give to Goodwill, found a cool little shelf unit at Big Lots and used it to organize all the electronics that sit next to my computer, finally bought a sewing machine, and organized and labeled all of the drawers in my craft supplies storage bin. Whew! Plus Sarah and I walked a couple of laps around Meadowbrook before Saturday night's Beer, Boar, and uh... Booty-Shakin' fest.

Next on my list of things to do: schedule a hair appointment, use the sewing machine to work on a new line of purses I'm designing, finally get a guitar and sign up for lessons, renew my gym membership, and think about taking some Pilates or yoga classes.

Ice Cold!!!

So last night involved a trip to that mecca of drunk undergrads, the Highdive. I spent the night hanging out with the Psych folks, and we started the evening off right with a hearty Hunter's Feast at Bayern Stube. Sweet sassy molassy, but that place has some yummy stuff. Although no matter how comfortable you are with your place in the food chain, you can't quite be completely sanguine about chowing down underneath the stuffed heads of the animals that comprise your meal. I had the roast boar, which I suppose I should have guessed would be pretty similar to pork. Sides included some delicious little potato croquettes and a pear with lingonberries that had somehow been dyed a radioactive green color not found in nature. With the planned evening of dancing in mind I managed to not stuff myself completely, so after an hour or so of rest back in Champaign I was ready to shake it like a Polaroid picture.

The Highdive was so tightly packed that I was relieved to see there weren't any flammable furnishings or pyrotechnically-inclined bands in residence. We danced for about three hours, from 11 to closing, and the grinding going on up on stage was amusing as always. I was especially amused by the girl that put her back to the wall while she danced and raised her leg up higher than Mike's head so she could wrap it around the back of her "dancing" companion. The only thing that really ruined the mood of watching wacky drunken hookups was the totally creepy guy that watched the girls up on stage like he was watching a show at a strip club. He was a big, burly guy who stood stock-still in the middle of the dancers, stared at the stage with his arms crossed, and didn't move or change expression for a good 45 minutes. He wasn't one of the usual creepy club guys that tries to grind on you while your back is turned; he was much much creepier. The look on his face said, "when I leave here I'm going to go find a hooker. And then I'm going to kill her." Ugh. Still kind of gives me the creeps thinking about it. Anyway, after closing some of the folks headed over to Lisa's for more fun with a bottle of vodka, but I was done for the night and took off for home, ears ringing, feet killing me, but having fulfilled my groove-getting-on quotient for the near future.

I know this isn't a new observation, but sometimes it's freaky how mp3 players seem to have a personality of their own. Mine totally is picking up on my mood today and playing ridiculously cheerful, bouncy songs. Walking to work this morning it started me off with some Monkees, then went into Blue (you know, the da ba dee ba da song), hit me with some peppy Lyle Lovett, blasted I Want to Be Sedated, flipped into some All Girl Summer Fun Band, and then some Sleater-Kinney. Must have picked up the fact that I'm wearing a flirty Bridget Jones-esque skirt. (You know, the "skirt is demonstrably neither sick nor abscent [sic]" kind. )

Of course, maybe this is to make up for the little bastard tormenting me on Valentine's Day with nothing but sad ballads and sappy love songs.

Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives. (No, seriously. I started this post back before Christmas and I'm just finally finishing it now. In my defense, I did finish it once, but Blogger ate it. So this is the revised version.)

25 years ago: I was 5. Living in Gillette with my parents and our dalmatian, Jim's Wyoming Star. 12 days away from having a baby brother. 2 days away from unwrapping a doll bunkbed and a Barbie doll house, both handmade by my mother.* Star used to eat the shingles off the roof of her dog house and climb the 8-foot fence to escape and run wild on the prairies of Wyoming. My brother Brian, who would eventually become one of my best friends and the greatest brother ever, would occassionally spend time during the first few months of his life in the top bunk of the doll bunkbed. My grandma was visiting, and my best friend was Michelle.
*(This section was obviously written pre-Christmas.)

20 years ago: I was 10. I lived in Dallas. My family had finally settled in the town we'd stay in more or less till I graduated college, but we didn't know that at the time. Dallas was just another in the string of places that ARCO was going to send us, as far as we knew. I was in 5th grade and had a total kid crush on my teacher, Ms. Berg. I can't remember why I thought she was so much cooler than any other teacher I'd had; I just did. I'd just gotten contact lenses the year before. I was in class with Michelle N. and met my first birthday twin, Jeremy W. My hair was still long, I think. The summer after 5th grade I'd get it cut so it would be easier to take care of during Girl Scout Camp, thus issuing in years of too short, too frizzy hairstyles.

15 Years ago: I was 15. (See how this works?) I was just finishing my first semester of high school at Big, Local High School across the street from my house. (The second house my family lived in during our time in Dallas. Even when we stopped moving, we couldn't stop moving.) I had had a miserable semester, despite finally getting to do traditional high school stuff like going to football games, and having a study date with a hot JV basketball player from my Spanish class. I had made the decision to go back to Dork School. I missed all my fellow dorks. Which doesn't mean that I wasn't relieved to leave them again a year later when we moved to London. Until I got to London, and then I started missing them again. Teenage emotions are nothing if not ambivalent.

10 Years ago: Houston. Sophomore year at Rice. Best year ever. The Muppets dominated the 4th floor at Brown. I was just about to start dating Tim, the first great love of my life. Dr. Mario ruled the Nintendo, Fishin' in the Dark rocked the stereo, the Yo' Mama wall entered its all-too-brief period of fame. Really, I'd write more about this, but I think I'd just be recapping my senior year Rice Yearbook entry. Which would only make sense to the people who were there, and they've already read it. (Ok, actually I may have my years wrong. 10 years ago may have been junior year of college. In which case the above all holds true except that Tim and I were already dating.)

5 years ago: Ummm, let's see. Living in New York City. New York City!! (C'mon, am I the only one that remembers that commercial?) Possibly this was the year I went to Hawaii on vacation with my parents and brother. Really, it all sort of starts to blur together. Possibly also the year that I got my tattoo? That sounds about right.

3 years ago: In New York, dithering over what I wanted to do next. Stay and work at Medical Reference Website? Travel the world on my credit cards? Apply for library school? Well, you know how that turned out. (Hint: my present location, Champaign-Urbana, IL, is home to a well known ________.)

1 year ago: Taking my last class. Fixin' to think about startin' to get ready to begin to look for a job, as we would say in Texas. Ok, no one would actually say that in Texas, but they might say something pretty close. Ah, my adopted home state. I kid because I love.

This year: Ok, the last year went something like this: class, party with friends, look for job, dinner with friends, get temporary summer job, drink with friends, spend summer in basement of GSLIS, except when emerging to party, eat, or drink with friends, travel to Victoria, BC, fall in love with Canada and bunnies, see my first demolition derby, date a guy from GSLIS, break up, get a job, eat weiner schnitzel at crazy German restaurant, watch drive-in movie, run through corn maze, turn 30, date former GSLIS guy, break up, go rock climbing in giant grain silo, be sad, then happy, then a bit more sad, but mostly happy overall. And seriously, y'all, that's only a teensy fraction of things that I remember off the top of my head. There were so many good things about this year. So many people I feel priviledged to have in my life. This easily would make my list of top 5 best years ever.

Yesterday: See previous blog post re: National Acrobats of Taiwan. I also ate a delicious slice of pie at Baker's Square. And had a conversation involving Peter Parker's pecker. And should probably go wash my mind out with soap now. As soon as I stop laughing.

Today: Went to the lady doctor. No, no, not just the one who is a lady. The one that's for ladies. She complimented my argyle knee-high socks. Personally, I imagine lady doctors are relieved when you wear distinctive socks. Gives them something to talk about to break the ice before they have to get all up in your business. Tonight I will stitch n' bitch with the usual crew at Kate's. Debating whether to start a new afghan once I finish the one I'm working on now, or move on to finally learning how to knit. Also could work on tea towels from my Sublime Stitching kit.

Tomorrow: It's Friday! Hooray for Friday! I don't know exactly what I'll be doing, but it will be good, because it is Friday. All bow before Friday. Is it coincidence that he was the King of the Land of Make Believe? I think not.

Meme via Gwen's Petty, Judgemental, Evil Thoughts.

Ok, time for a post with no organization or structure. Just babbling about random junk running through my head.
(Presented in unordered list format, because an ordered list would imply a hierarchy of importance. And we know that would be wrong.)

• Huh. The first definition of hierarchy in Webster's is "a division of angels." Really? That's not an obsolete or little-used meaning? It gets top billing over "a graded or ranked series"? Weird.
  
• My favorite thing about Loretta Lynn's Van Lear Rose? The way she pronounces "here" in the title song. "He said, 'Child, thi' sheer's the Van Lear Rose.'" I'm guessing it's probably the way her daddy used to say it, but something about it is just absolutely charming. And in "High on a Mountain Top" can't you just hear the way she must have sounded as a child in the line "Ain't comin' down, no never I'm not"? I seriously have a hard time not doing a little chair dance when that song comes on; it's so catchy.
  
• I just realized today that I've had this blog up for more than a year and there are still probably fewer than 20 posts on here. I bow my head in shame. Especially in the face of the prolificness of newly-minted bloggers like my high school friends Ashlee and Brad. You notice that I cleverly gave myself an out in my about page, though, right? I mean, I say right there that I'm lazy! Thus freeing myself of the obligation to be anything but. Yeah, I'm so smart I even give myself an excuse to get out of things I want to work on.
  
• Speaking of Brad, seeing his blog reminded me how he was my first crush in high school. I still remember the year the TAG Trek took us to Enchanted Rock and Brad and I sat up on the side of the rock and looked out at the trees changing color. Plus he fell asleep leaning on my shoulder on the ride down from Dallas. Ahhh, the pangs of unrequited high school love. So young, so sappy. Anyway, happy 31st to you BGB. (P.S. to Mrs. Brad: I have no designs on your husband. I swear!)
  
• Friendster vs. Orkut.
  In my mind, Friendster wins hands-down. It's easier to use, has a better layout, isn't down nearly as often, and has more of my friends on it, allowing me to build a friends page in which my high school, college, New York, and grad school worlds collide. But Orkut does let you bookmark someone as a crush, and then if they bookmark you as a crush too you both get notified, and that's pretty cool. Quick everyone! Go crush on me on Orkut! Maybe I'm your secret admirer!
  
• Oh my God. Valentine's Day week and a can of Coke obviously do things to my brain. And not in a good way.
  
• This weekend I'm going to go scream about bugs and maybe pet a tarantula or two. Where, you ask? Why at The Insect Fear Film Festival. Where else?
• Last night I saw the National Acrobats of Taiwan at Krannert Center here on campus. Everyone was amazingly athletic, but the guy that had the entire auditorium on the edge of their seats was the guy who literally balanced on the edge of a seat... about 30 feet above the stage. This guy started by balancing the feet of a kitchen chair on top of four champagne bottles on top of a table and then climbing up on top of the pile. Easy enough so far, right? I mean, you could kind of see how if you got things balanced pretty well it probably wouldn't be that scary. You wouldn't be too far off the floor, and there were two spotters there to catch you if you fell. But then he started adding chairs. And by the end of his act he was balanced on a pillar of chairs that reached higher than the balcony-level seating. And he was doing handstands. And the top chair was balanced at an angle. And people were practically afraid to clap because they were just holding their breath so that he wouldn't wobble. And the people in the front few rows must have been extremely nervous. Because I imagine none of them ever thought they'd be thinking about the lyrics to It's Raining Men as something that could actually happen. But, of course, the man with the impeccable balance and fantastic upper body strength did not fall. So everyone could go back to being relieved, until the next act, when the magician picked a "volunteer" out of the audience.
• This Comics Crumudgeon guy is good. He even makes it possible to get a laugh out of Mary Worth and Apartment 3G. That takes talent, dude.
• Will I ever get around to making my 101 in 1001 list? Can I put making the list on the list?