I moved. I have a new home. I love it.

My room is huge. The house is spacious. My roommates are spectacular.

The one problem we have is called NO Internet. Which is a downfall, but bless her heart, Bertie has been working on it since last Friday, and it's really stressing her out. We're getting some of the computer-smart friends to come and have a look. One of them has already quit. But there is still hope.

My house is a good 50 minute walk from the Main library where I will be 3 days of the week (so far). It's a fun jaunt, well, if the heat isn't too intense. And I like the idea of getting almost 4 miles of exercise in without even thinking about it. Public transportation is free for me as a student, and that is another plus. I haven't used it yet, but I plan to, when the weather is bad.

This city is gorgeous. And I'm very much excited about what this year holds - I have no idea what that would be, but it can only be good things, with maybe a few unfortunate ones.

I'll post pictures of the house when I get the chance - probably at Labor Day.

Master's Degree, Here I Come!

Transitions

I hate change, generally. Change has been the hardest thing in my life to deal with. Not that I'm alone in the world with this problem, I'm just stating the fact. I suck at change.

Tomorrow I move away, probably for the last time. Hopefully, my junk won't ever again be piled to the ceiling in my parents' guest room and my tiny room here at home will have more than a single pathway to the door. The next step - after a year and a half of school - is Arizona. So home in R--, is not really an option any more.

I'm moving to a beautiful house in a residential area, only 2 miles from campus - close enough to walk, far enough away from the noise. I'll have a little over a week to get settled before classes. And I have no idea what to expect from life this year. It's scary.

Everytime I leave home to live somewhere new, I wonder to myself: Will I be able to handle this? Will this be the breaking point? I guess it's a good thing I have so much self-confidence.

But I'm excited in my own sort of way. I love packing and unpacking - making everything fit perfectly. At least I have that to look forward to.

So long hometown. I'll visit, but I don't plan to stay forever. I turned out alright, so thanks for that, I guess.

I know that I talk about Maddie a lot, but there is a good reason.

She's amazing, and sweet and funny, and God bless her, she's beautiful.

A few nights ago, after a long, tedious day sitting at her dad's office because there was nowhere else to go, she finished dinner and got up from the table saying, "Daddy, can I get you anything?" When he didn't hear her, she stated it again, more clearly, "Do you need anything Daddy?"

Now, as she approaches her 3rd birthday, she is realizing that most other kids have friends. She craves social interaction - which I've never understood - but you can read it on her face whenever we're in public and see cousins, friends, and siblings together. She would give the shirt off her back if she thought it would make her a friend. Sometimes she says to her mom, "I just want a friend, Mommy. A little girl to play with." It's heartbreaking.

She's enrolled in an art class and a dance class this fall, I think they last for 6 weeks each. Hopefully she'll meet some friends there that she can start having play dates and parties with.

As for she and I, we'll continue to dance to her videotapes (which really mean cassette tapes from my childhood that I brought to her) and play with playdough and make up stories, because we're birthday buddies. Tonight, we celebrate (one of her favorite words - celebrate) our September birthdays.

Happy Birthday, Baby.

The first person I saw today in the library was a woman in a black skirt, white t-shirt, and black tennis shoes. Her thick, wavy red hair was bouncing along with her as she headed briskly for the pay phone - out the door directly behind me.

Something was off. I couldn't figure out what it was. I had only seen her for a moment...and yet...there was something. I just couldn't lay my finger on it.

She came back in after using the phone and walked past. I saw her three more times before I realized what it was.

In the 6 inch gap between her long black flowy skirt and her black tennis shoes her legs were showing. And they were hairy. Not hairy like mine usually are, since I'm not known to be the world's most frequent leg-shaver - but hairy in the sense that she doesn't shave her legs. That she hasn't ever shaved her legs.

And I was both disgusted and happy for her in the same breath. Disgusted because her legs looked masculine. Happy because she could live her life as she wanted and wear skirts in public without being ashamed. That takes courage and individuality.

I'm certainly not going to start up that habit, however.

New Family

When Evan gets married in November, he's joining a new family. This is a photo taken from the Gottschalk-Kubala Meet-and-Greet that took place in July at my cousin Brian's house in Indy. Emily has a very good-looking family and luckily we had a very pleasant 9 hours of games, lots of eating, and getting to know each other.

Emily and Evan are in the back - blue and green shirts, respectively. Her parents are beside Ev and her brothers and sister are kind of surrounding her.

Weekdays

Tell me what is so spectacular about life.

You work 5 days a week, if you're lucky, to provide for yourself or your family. The weekends are only 2 days long, and really, let's face it, we spend our Sundays dreading the start of work on Monday.

I never do fun things during the week. The evenings are strictly meant for recouping from working all day and taking care of other things around the house. I guess it's a complex left over from grade school when we weren't allowed to "go out" on school nights, whatever that meant at age twelve.

Last night, I made an exception. I only wish I'd done it earlier in the summer, so I could have known the joys of relaxing during the week.

I visited an old friend. Went for a Motorcycle ride. Spent the evening catching up on life, reconnecting with someone my age (which rarely happens, especially during the week).

When I got home, there was a message from my almost-3-year-old niece. When I called her back, we talked for a half hour, remembering fun things we've done together over the last year and a half. (I'm totally not making this up-she remembers that far back.)

And even though I stayed up later than I should have talking to her, it was the best night I can remember this summer.

There is something beautiful and sacred about reconnecting with people you love. It's a life force all its own.

Why don't I ever remember that?

Today's Lesson in Librarianship

Today's lesson involves job etiquette when dealing with patrons.

If someone begins talking about ear inserts that allow people to communicate directly into your brain and read your thoughts and then says, "You have them, too, don't you. [more of an accusation than a question]. You can read my thoughts right now," put on your most charming smile and say..."I'm sorry, you mistook the library for the psych ward of the hospital."

No, don't say that. But after thinking it, maintain a vacant smile only - no laughing permitted - and shake your head.

Do NOT feed the fire, as it were, by admitting, yes, you do have those inserts and you communicate with extraterrestrials.

I never would have believed the crap that librarians put up with.
The above is a true story.