Sniffle. My little blog is growing up. It's not even two years old yet (that's like... 16 in people years, right? They always say Internet time is faster, don't they?) and already she's getting asked out on her first date.

I wanted to keep her pure. Innocent. Sheltered. But she's growing up, becoming her own person. And if you love something, you have to set it free. But you can't help but wonder about this new blog that's come into her life. Will he treat her right? Take her to the drive-in and bring her home before curfew? Or will he ask her to go steady, but then slowly his eye will wander to another blog that gives him a little wink and asks if he'll carry her books home from school? Will he leave her sobbing into her pillow listening to their song over and over as she cries herself to sleep?

They grow up so quickly. My blog totally wants to hold hands with The Daily Kirk.

P.S. Gosh, a lot of people read Kirk's blog. I think most of my traffic for today came from there. Um, hi everybody! I should also point out that real life me (who only wishes she was a young 'un like her blog) is currently dating a lovely boy here in C-U.

November 16th, the day all the best people are born on, has arrived! I'm not just tooting my own horn here. In addition to my lovely self, this day is also the natal day of my friends Correspondence School of Hits (otherwise known as Jeremy) and Dwight, who is too much of a luddite to get on the bandwagon with the whole "blog" thing. I've known both of these guys for somewhere between 15 and 20 years now. (Jesus H. Jumping Christ-on-a-pogo-stick, is that really true?! How did we all get so old?!) Anyway, our secret plan for world domination will not be denied. One day those born on the 16th of November will rule the earth. As it should be.

(So far I remain unsuccessful in telepathically convincing little Mordecai that today is the day on which he should come into the world. But the day isn't over yet.)

The day has been auspicious so far. Last night a well-timed gift for myself arrived in the mail, the beautiful ring I ordered a few weeks ago from the supremely talented Small Things Designs. Isn't it purty?


And then this morning when I walked out the door it was snowing!! (I realize this doesn't bode well for what is undoubtedly going to be a long winter, but IT SNOWED!! ON MY BIRTHDAY!!) I took a picture of one perfect snowflake that landed on my mitten that I'll post later when I get home. I also ran into my imaginary friend EK on the bus to work this morning. (Imaginary, because I see him so infrequently sometimes I think I made him up.) Then I treated myself to a pumpkin spice chai latte at Espresso, because nothing says happy birthday like a delicious cinnamon and pumpkin beverage. And finally, I got to work and got a bunch of lovely birthday emails from friends all around the country. It's enough to bring a tear to a girl's eye, I tell you.

(Added 11/21/05) Here you go:


Think this was someone's way of telling me that I really am the most special snowflake of winter?

A grey day outside inspired me to have an all-orange lunch. The weather was making me crave comfort food, so I went down to Noodles and Co. and got a big old dish of mac and cheese. They had Izze sparkling juice, so I had to get the clementine, which is my favorite. I don't think I'm going to attempt to carry this orange streak on any further today, though. I wouldn't want to be reduced to eating Cheetos and popsicles for dinner.

I've got another phone interview today (still waiting to hear back on the last one), and I'm a bit nervous. Plus I'm also torn about various job possibilities and whether I should stay or I should go. I saw a friend of KMD's who's a life coach yesterday, and she's going to try to help me sort out what I really want to do. My assignment for this week is to have jars for each of the different options (stay and get internship experience, move somewhere else because of a job offer, move somewhere else because of its location) and drop a pebble or a penny or something in the appropriate jar each time I think of something good about that option. A suggested it would be funny if I used spittoons and chews of tobacco as a form of measurement. Unfortunately, I think that might be somewhat difficult to take in to my next coaching session.

Tonight I'm going to try to polish off In Cold Blood, which I'm trying to get read before Capote comes to the Art. Speaking of the Art, when are they going to show Grizzly Man?!

Whew! Starting the day with a sprint for the bus sure wakes you up. I missed the early-to-work bus (8:35) because I was still drying my hair, and I thought I was on time for the just-slightly-late-to-work bus (9:15) when I realized I had forgotten my ID card/bus pass in the pocket of my other jacket. By the time I got it the bus was just stopping at the corner. Fortunately this is the bus driver who recognizes me, so when he saw me waving frantically and starting my sprint he opened the door back up. Victory!

In other news, frustrated by a shopping trip to Old Navy last night that seemed to turn up nothing but ultra low rise pants (Why God? Why?!), I let my inner five year old pick my outfit, so today's all about the Mary Janes, tights, and couduroy skirts.

Ah, sometimes I love fall!

Do you ever feel like you're about 5 different ages sometimes?

There's the part of me that wants to pick a place to settle down and buy a house and get a dog. That part's probably my real age.

There's the part of me that's 22 and still ready to pick up and travel around the world.

Then there's the part of me that couldn't help kicking leaves into the air while I was walking around A's neighborhood with him Monday night. I'm pretty sure this part of me is 5, wearing mary janes, and carrying a corduroy bookbag that my Mom made for me on her sewing machine. She also likes petting zoos, and running through the corn maze playing hide and seek, and toasting marshmallows.

There's the part of me that skipped a party on Saturday because it would have required getting out of my comfy pajamas and putting down the book I was reading. That one's about 80 or so. She also likes to crochet mittens.

And then there's the part of me that goes on dates and falls in love, and I'm never sure what age she is. In my family we always tease my brother a bit about how he took so long to ride a bike or drive a car. Basically, he tried to learn to ride without training wheels when he was 5 or so, got mad because he couldn't do it right immediately and quit riding altogether for a year or so. Then one day he decided he was ready, and got on the bike and rode without any problems. Same thing with learning to drive. He got his permit at 15, learned to drive, and then showed absolutely zero interest in it for about 3 years.

I feel like I'm like that with relationships, maybe because I spent so many of my formative years moving every 8-12 months and having to start all over again with everything: friends, crushes, learning the lunch menu schedule. I felt like I didn't know what I was doing, so I'd just hang back until I did. So I was sort of a late bloomer.

In fact, thinking about this reminds me that my first design for Girl-ish had a lot of pictures of this character, my little cartoon alter ego:

I drew her when I lived in New York, and was thinking of calling the story of her adventures The Prime of Miss Lola Latebloomer. Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets, you know. (Note: Lola does not always get what she wants.)

Anyway, so I totally lost track of where I was going with this. Maybe I just wanted to explain why I'm going to be inviting my friends to go see the 4th Harry Potter with me for my birthday next week. And to drink some beer. Fun for both my inner 12 and 21 year olds.

So I was showing my date last night a couple of pictures of me as a kid (yes, there was a reason; I had travelled to someplace he used to live), and I came across this pic of me back in 5th grade, during what I like to think of as "my last good hair year." The summer after this I got my hair cut shorter than shoulder length so it would be easier for me to take care of at Girl Scout camp, and it's never been quite the same since. To keep some of my dignity intact I'm going to refrain from posting photos of the fright wig that lived on my head from about 1986 to 1989. But isn't this cute?



A couple of days ago I colored my hair a bit darker than usual. I followed some advice in Oprah Magazine (Shut up! Stop laughing! I'm serious!) that a chestnut color looks good on someone with pink undertones in their skin like mine. I was so impressed with the difference it made in this woman's look that I decided I'd try it. (There's actually a better 'after' picture of her on the front page of the article, but the website version of it is tiny.) I hadn't fooled around with coloring my hair since I put highlights in back in April when I was out in San Diego for a conference. I actually really like the color, but hope it lightens up a little after I wash my hair a few more times. I'll post a picture tonight when I get home from work so you can see for yourself.

Ok, it's actually the next morning, but here you go:


And now, I'm off to a job interview. Wish me luck!

Diet Coke Zero is my new favoritest beverage. All the fizzy sweetness of Coke, which I missed oh so much when I had to give up caffiene lo these many years ago, none of the jitters and weird aftertaste of Diet Coke, and it seems not to totally piss off the Angry Gut. Score! I barely drink soda at all any more. My yen for carbonation is satisfied by drinking sparkling water with a teeny bit of fruit juice, but every once in a while I get a craving for a good, old-fashioned too-sweet soda. (As the companies spend millions of dollars to make you do.) And now that craving can be satisfied.

I can't believe I just wrote a paragraph of free advertising for stupid Coca Cola. To attempt to balance that out karmically, I'll mention that I saw the amazing documentary, Born into Brothels on DVD last night. Those kids having to deal with the stuff that they do at such a young age just breaks your heart. So if you feel the urge to spend money, help some kids out by giving to Kids with Cameras.

Woo hoo! November is finally here. Sweet sweet November. October ended on a typically disappointing note last night for the trick or treaters. We didn't get a single kid at K's because it was pouring rain outside. We did have costumes inside, though. (But I forgot to take pictures. Sorry!) I was Velma from Scooby Doo, L was Zorro, and K had a cute fluffy cloud costume made of cotton balls. Nothing to compare to these awesome costumes at Ashlee's party in Boston, unfortunately. (And I totally want to marry these two, whoever they are. Both of them. Best costumes ever!)

Now this isn't exactly a costume, per se, but it's still a pretty startling outfit. My aunt J (name not used to protect the fashion crime perpetrator) lives in Florida and helped a friend out who was recovering from the recent hurricane, resulting in this picture on the Red Cross website. I'll let you guess which one is part of my family. (Hint: She's on the left, and she's got the happiest pants I've ever seen.) This picture just makes me smile. J, if you ever see this, I love you! All teasing is meant in good fun.