Yesterday I got a greeting card from the family dog, complete with a paw print signature. And now I pose the question: Has anyone else ever gotten a card in the mail from a family pet?

How classic is that? I laughed so hard I nearly wet myself.

It's no wonder I'm wacky - it's my genetic inheritance.

I tried to go to bed early, but there was so much commotion on Broadway that I couldn't fall asleep. So, I decided I'd get up and take care of a little project that will actually help me sleep late tomorrow. Explanation. . .

A few weeks ago, I was trying to open one of my mini-blinds and it fell off. (Actually, it came crashing down.) The plastic was old and rotted and had become so brittle that it disintegrated. Nice, eh? So I took the other one down this week and bought new blinds to replace them. But, before I could put the new ones up tonight, I had to remove the old brackets.

Now, I believe that everyone that has lived in college housing has an understanding of the "Structural Poster." (It's the poster that keeps the walls from falling down in the crappy house you're living in.) Well, tonight I encountered the "structural mini-blind."

I had to get out the toolkit and pry the old brackets off. In doing so I found that the blinds had actually been holding the window sills together and had also been hiding the fact that the windows were falling out. Yes, falling out. As in, gap at the top that I could almost stick my whole hand through.

Near as I can tell, the top pane of my windows are supposed to be stationary. Argh. Structural mini-blinds. Who knew?

I am, however, proud to report that I think all has been fixed. It took several random nails and sheetmetal screws, but at least I know nothing will be falling down any time soon.

Whewhoo! There's no stopping a woman with a toolkit.

Do ya ever have those days where you can't get yourself to do anything? Even the ridiculously small things? (Like making a dentist appointment.) Especially when you know there's a metric assload of stuff you should be getting done? (Like reading.)

I have days like that. And, rather than feel bad about it, I've come to accept that doing even the tiniest positive thing on days like those is better than nothing (or going backward as in the tendency I'm trying to break).

The only two things I accomplished today: washing the dishes and organizing my jewelry box.

Accept it, move on, try again tomorrow.

Two great quotes from movies I watched today:

"I'm a wave maker and you have a fear of drowning."

"I stayed in my room. . . hoping I could keep the world from slipping in through the windows."

Word of the Week: Metrosexual - A heterosexual man who enjoys cosmopolitan benefits like pedicures, manicures, massages and facials.

I could be wrong, but I doubt you'll see that spreading to the Midwest. It goes in the bin with man-purses and short pants - neither of which go with flannel or Wranglers.

Can you picture it? Guy walks into the bar, pulls up a stool and says to his buddy, "Which nail color goes best with my 12-gauge, the French Fawn or the Nude Shimmer?"

Got another one of these from a friend a while ago and finally typed it up today during a less than enthralling computer class.

1. What time do you wake up in the morning? 6:45-ish.
2. If you could eat lunch with one famous person, who would it be? Michelangelo
3. Gold or Silver? silver.
4. What was the last film you saw at the theater? Bad Boys II
5. Favorite TV shows? I don’t have a tv. Back in the day it was Law & Order.
6. What do you eat for breakfast? cereal & Diet Coke
7. What would you hate to be trapped in a room with? anything noisy
8. Can you touch your nose with your tongue? Yes, it’s my new giraffe talent.
9. What inspires you? Everything
10. What’s your middle name? Jay
11. Beach, city, or country? All of the above.
12. Summer or winter? Summer. (Actually anything except Jan-March)
13. Favorite Ice Cream? Right now, Ben & Jerry’s Chubby Hubby
14. Buttered, Salted or Plain popcorn? Most days, plain.
15. Favorite Color? Ecru. tee hee hee
16. Favorite car? mine.
17. Favorite sandwich filling? avocado
18. What characteristics do you despise? close-mindedness and money-hunger
19. Favorite flower? Anything except carnations.
20. Fizzy or still water? Depends on the time of day.
21. What color is your bathroom? About 5 shades of 50’s blue.
22. How many keys on your key ring? 5 and none belong to a vehicle.
23. What do you want to be when you grow up? Queen. (Or Baroness or Duchess.)
24. Who is your favorite comedian? Matt Groening (The Simpsons creator)
25. Cancun or Kenya? both.
26. Where would you retire? My ranch in Colorado.
27. Can you juggle? Nope.
28. Favorite day of the week? Friday
29. Red or White Wine. Depends on what’s for dinner. Usually I lean red.
30. What’s your favorite pasttime? writing & listening to music.
31. What did you do for your last birthday? enjoyed a surprise birthday party thrown by the b-school boys. Then flew home to see my family.
32. Do you carry a donor card? Yes.
33. Favorite article of clothing? Anything that brings that look to his eyes.
34. What is your favorite dinner? Anything that’s set in a good ambience.
35. Pepsi or Coke? Coke.
36. Girl scout or campfire girl? huh?
37. Favorite author? Toni Morrison
38. Least favorite food? Anything that ends in -loaf or -pie.

If I could, I’d tell you softly
each and every day,

I believe in you.

I have faith in all your hopes and dreams -
the boundless depth of your talent.

I respect the very essence of you.

I’d whisper I’ll stand by you
for a hundred years, and a hundred more.

I’d make you king of all the world.

I would celebrate my pride for you
and all you choose to do.

And there would never be a moment
that you would never know

I believe in you.

When I flew back to NYC last week I didn't want to deal with any luggage. So, I thought I'd be clever and ship my stuff to my apartment UPS. Well, the boxes still haven't arrived and I have ziltch to wear tomorrow.

Now it doesn't seem so clever.

My cousin Melissa had a baby girl today, adding one more Meghan to the family. (The fam has gotten so big that we've had to start recycling names.)

Lest you think I jest. . .

There are 98 people in my immediate family (meaning only my grandparents*, aunts, uncles and cousins). NO extended family.

Interestingly, there is a five-way tie for the most common first name among Dave, Julie, Mary, Meghan, and Pat. There are THREE of each of them!

Aaron
Adam
Amanda
Amy
Andrea
Andy
Angie - 2
Ann
Aric
Audrey*
Belinda
Bernadette
Bill
Brady
Brandon
Cathy
Chad
Chris
Chuck
Clint
Corey
Craig
Crystal
Daniel - 2
Danielle
Darcy
Dave – 3
Derek
Donna*
Elise
Elliot
Francis* (deceased)
Gerald
Gralie
Hattie
Heather
Heidi
Ivy
Jackie
Jaden
Jake
Jan
Jane - 2
Jeff
Jenna
Jenny
Jerry
Jessica
Jim
Joan
Joe
Julie – 3
Kelsi
Larry
Leah
Leroy* (deceased)
Lincoln
Lucas
Maddison
Mary – 3
Meghan – 3
Melissa
Michelle
Mike F
Mike P
Mitchell
Molly
Pat - 3
Peter
Renee
Rhoda
Rick
Ron – 2
Ryan
Scott
Sharon – 2
Shelley
Stan
Steve
Tanner
Tom
Troy
Tucker

Now you know why I have no desire to have a traditional wedding ceremony and reception. There's no way I'm gonna feed all those people! They can throw themselves a party at the Fire Hall or something, put a hog on the spit.

I just want to fly away and not tell anyone. No froofy dresses, no stress, just something simple and elegant. Memorable.

Had a farewell lunch for my friend Erica today. . . but the guest of honor (Erica) never showed up. (E - he better be good lookin, girl.) She's moving back to the Bahamas on Wednesday.

Interesting note: The guy on the new Bacardi commercial is the first guy she met when we went clubbing for Kyoko's birthday last fall. For the record, she has great taste in thugs. Ladies of Nassau, look out cuz the competition is about to get fierce.

Question of the Day:
Where the hell is Kevin Thompson?

Just checkin'.

Please forgive me if I’ve misinterpreted any or all of this.
It is very possible that my heart has clouded my intuition,
that my mind has merely come to the conclusions it wants to believe.

Or perhaps the soft voice of my ancient soul whispers the Truth. . .

She scares you. Her strength, her spirit.
But it is you that inspires that part of her,
makes her bold, daring –
gives her the courage to explore the world,
and her own potential.

You marvel at her sincerity,
how she knows you without prying
sees beyond the surface (that others blindly accept)
as if your skin were transparent
and your words drunk on truth serum.

For that, you’ve put her on a pedestal,
removed her from the ranks of others in your life.
Why me? you asked honestly.
Her answers to which will never satisfy
and you are glad she is resolute, unwavering.

The whole prospect is too much to think about,
so you try not to.
You go about your days,
but her words return, haunting you,
forcing you to face the fissures you have tried to ignore.

You’re afraid you will never measure up
to what you believe she deserves.
You don’t want to lose the connection you share,
her belief in you, your friendship.

You tell yourself, I can’t let her down.
I value her too much.
I’d have to protect her,
make sure we both succeed,
and I’m just not up for a job that big.

But it is you that has created these artificial demands.
She asks for nothing,
doesn’t want to change you,
isn’t interested in white picket fences.

The excuses are justifications
for the sadness you cannot control -
a sadness she knows well, shares,
with a sullen familiarity of the impenetrable walls it builds
to keep you from happiness, from peace,
from the very marrow of life.

She sees a strength in you
you’re not sure exists.
You question what you’ve done
to deserve this place in her heart.

How can someone so fragile be so intense?
Her delicate touch is too much to handle,
threatens to draw back the gossamer scrim
separating you from who you really are
and the life you want to live.

You’re afraid you’ll hurt her the way you’ve been hurt.
But most of all,
you’re afraid of loving someone that way again -
without reservation - like you did once before
when you thought someone else was the One.

You wouldn’t survive that excruciating pain again,
enduring the crushing agony, helplessly watching
as your heart was ground into an unrecognizable slurry,
your universe left unraveling and falling apart.

You know that she is different though.
For her you’d fall a million times deeper,
and that is incredibly terrifying.

She appreciates the music and the chaos,
understands the grueling process of it.
She shares your need for nature and the city,
for celebration and sacrifice, for time apart.

For that you respect her even more,
and take comfort in knowing she will
keep life from slipping through your fingers
like diamonds lost in the sands of time.

She would heal the wounds
that keep you from your family,
mend the broken bridges that
connect you to their love and support.

Looking in the mirror you shake your head in disbelief,
realizing what you can’t ignore any longer,
and your heart does a flam inside your chest.

Stepping off the train you ask the guy next to you
what day it is
and wonder what she’s doing at that moment,
how you’ll find her, and what you’ll say when you do.

This side of the burning sun
lies a scorched earth
where parched hearts trudge onward toward
a mirage they must believe in to survive.

But no fertile oasis awaits them
rises from the unsympathetic earth
yielding reprieve from the relentless sun.

They continue on
mocking the sun
for not having killed them yet.

Their lungs seize every breath
as though it will be the last.

They wait for that moment
knowing it will come soon.

Behind their eyes dance the dreams
of a mind collapsing on itself
overrun with auburn clouds
and dark scorpions
that dart across their numb feet.

Here there is no escape.
The poisonous rays of a sadistic sun
swallow too vast a space to escape.

Until finally the broken, weary wanderers
fall at its great merciless feet.

They surrender to the torture
until their souls have left their bodies
to be picked clean by the vultures
or decompose among the sands.

My fear is a part of me –
the shield that protects me,
keeps me safe.

Irrational or not,
fear is the shell that
keeps my soft heart
from being destroyed.

Pain is dangerous
for people like you and me –
it can become
a dark spiral
that send us downward
until we can’t escape.

Artists must temper the darkness
that gives birth to creative genius
with the stability of ordinary daylight.

What am I afraid of? you asked. . .

Everything. And nothing.
The depth of my feelings for you,
the thought of never being with you.

I am afraid of pushing you away,
of talking you into something you don’t believe in,
of you never realizing how beautiful we could be.

I am afraid of being honest
for fear of getting annihilated,
being crushed.

I am afraid that heavy is bad in your eyes
that it’s something you don’t want to deal with,
that foreign women are easier, not heavy.

I fear I will never find the courage
to face the fears that clog my mind,
cloud my vision, hold me back.

I am afraid of never belonging,
forgetting where I came from,
losing who I am again.

I am afraid of never living up to my full potential,
afraid of testing my own abilities and failing miserably,
reaching the end and regretting things undone or unsaid.

And I am afraid of game metaphors,
because our lives are not a game.
Not at all.

The shell is different
than the heart of the thing

so she’s stuck
between two worlds

alone
clinging to hope.

To outward appearances
she’s unshaken

a straight forward business woman
managing the corporate mazes.

But those she’s let in
see a different side of her

the renaissance poet philosopher
who paints the world in jeweled tones.

Navy blue pin-stripes give way to
a hidden garb

she doesn’t look like those she loves
doesn’t think like those she walks among

she belongs to both
is overlooked by both.

Neither has found the courage to claim her
because neither understands both sides,
wants both sides.

it’s bound to be complicated they think,
and dismiss the thought of being with her.

Some quotes I’ve collected in the past few weeks while going blogless:

*Question of the Summer: “Is there anymore room, for me, in those jeans?” - Ginuwine

Gilby’s Quote of the Summer: “She threw it at me like I was a short stop.” -

“Shakespeare was fucked when he said, ‘It’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.’ Fuck that shit.” – My brother, reflecting on having his heart broken

“I’m super, thanks for asking.” – My sister, quoting a movie

“Hi, I don’t care. Thanks.” – Lenny, mocking my sister

“We gotta get you to Florida. You guys wanna see the sand, don’t you.” - My sister talking to her favorite pair of black sandals

“It’s pretty bad when the bar whore doesn’t want to dance with you.” – Carrie @ the Wild Onion

From the calendar:

“The sun shines not on us, but in us.” – John Muir

“Wisdom begins in wonder” – Socrates

“Teach us to delight in simple things” – Rudyard Kipling

“You can discover more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation” – Plato

“The truth is, friendship is every bit as sacred and eternal as marriage” – Katherine Mansfield

“Look to this day, for it is life – the very life of life.” – Kalidasa

“It is never too late to be what you might have been” – George Eliot

This has absolutely been the best summer of my life. No job. Flip flops. Traveling. Meeting new friends. Hanging with old friends. Watching baseball. Watching football. Seeing concerts. Awesome.

I’m finally back in NYC, and thankfully it’s cooler out than yesterday. The whole blackout thing was pretty bizarre. Actually, I was really surprised at how calm people were in general. Of course there were some that were frantic though, asking if we were being attacked again. The heightened tensions were palpable – it’s weird to be at the brink of rioting and chaos knowing there’s nothing you can do about it.

It’s also scary to realize how cutting electricity absolutely paralyzes this city and the millions of people that live, work and tour here. I wonder how many thousands of people were hit with a post-traumatic stress panic attack when the lights went out yesterday.

Uhh. . . I got an email from the Business School today about preparing for final exams. Does that strike anyone else as a little presumptuous considering we haven't begun classes yet?

Sweet Jesus. I am just praying I make it to finals without being eaten alive.

(Someone is more than a little terrified. I think I have an ulcer the size of New Jersey right now.)

Uhh. . . I got an email from the Business School today about preparing for final exams. Does that strike anyone else as a little presumptuous considering we haven't begun classes yet?

Sweet Jesus. I am just praying I make it to finals without being eaten alive.

(Someone is more than a little terrified. I think I have an ulcer the size of New Jersey right now.)

Every once in a while, here in the land of milk and honey, I catch a chunk of a country western song that cuts me to remind me where I'm from. This is an excerpt from the latest:

"She’s got an MBA and a plush corner office. She’s got a ‘Don’t mess with me’ attitude. She’ll close the deal. . . She’s got a rock ‘n roll side when you get her agitated. She yells out to the band. . .then she jumps up on the bar and she starts to scream.

She says, “Hell Yeah! Turn it up! Right on! [...] Sing that song. Guitar man, play it all night long. Take me back to where the music hit me, life was good, and love was easy.”
-Montgomery Gentry, “Hell Yeah”

And another:
“You can’t be in it for the money, you gotta satisfy your soul.”
– Montgomery Gentry

My crazy life continues. . .

Finally got to the Midwest Tuesday night (two weeks ago.)

Left Wednesday morning for Green Bay to spend a few days watching Summer Practice.

Thursday night had a very interesting dinner with my sister and the Packer she’s after – he’s a sweetheart.

Left GB Friday for the lake. Dropped Mom off to help Dad do the masonry and stonework for the fireplace, and rode home to E-town with my bro.

Saturday went hiking down to the river below my parents’ house. It was every bit as beautiful as I remembered it, and the wild raspberries every bit as sweet.

Went to church by myself Sunday morning and chatted with all the relates after, then dropped by my Gma’s house. She loved the stuff I brought her from Ireland, so that was cool.

Worked on my law finals Monday through Thursday, (and drove 30 miles to drop them in a FedEx overnight box at midnight on Thursday.)

Wednesday went to the Chiefs/Vikings dual practice to watch some football and hang out with some of my sister’s friends. It was awesome. Red and white is okay, but it honestly doesn’t compare to those gold pants. I have the sincerest new found appreciation for them. Three pro football teams in a week – that’s the life!

Friday drove north (almost to Michigan) to camp with friends in a National Forest up there. It rained nearly the entire time we were there, but it was magnificent. So serene.

Saturday I attended what was hands down the most beautiful and moving wedding ceremony I’ve ever seen. I had tears everywhere. There are very few weddings I’ve been to where I believe the bride and groom are truly right for one another. The couple that was married Saturday, however, I really think are soul mates. They have a relationship that seems timeless and natural, honest and deep.

Sunday I went to the new Leinie’s Lodge in Chippewa Falls. It was cool too.

Monday walked up to visit my grandma. It was nice. On the way home I decided to cut across the pasture for old times’ sake. It was getting dark, and I found out the hard way that there are several new electric fences separating different dairy herds. I now need to sew up the hole in the ass of my jeans from the spot where I got caught on the barbed wire after having received several volts.

Tuesday. . . Mall of America. The place was absolutely packed, the overflow parking lots and ramps were full. My mom and I drove around until we found a space, (which actually wound up being right next to the door of Macy’s.) How’s that for fortuitous? But here’s the bizarre part. . . Out of the thousands of cars that were there, we happened to park right in front of my sister’s car! When I got out of the truck and looked up, I gasped. What are the odds of that?