New pics!

Who else would be the focus of the first pictures taken with my digital camera other than the cats and myself? Really, we all know there is no other answer.

Twitch













Midgey (sleeping on my music blanket - aka the cat hair blanket - it's total nast now)














Me













This picture is reminiscent of Emily's animal nose pictures - with the noses all huge and right in the middle or at least the focal point of the picture. Hm...probably not the best one I've ever taken. Oh well. Trying out the camera...it's awesome. I've read 2 1/2 manuals so far on it. Had to take a break from that.

Lost and Found

It's strange how "good" friends can disappear from your life without any grand farewell tour or at least a goodbye.

Several of my friends from college have thus disappeared from my life. Sometimes, I think we forget people on accident. And although it's sad that a relationship would mean that little, I think it's probably normal and perhaps how it should be. For if we forget, how can we miss? And if we're not missing them, then we aren't aware of the loss. Sometimes that is a blessing.

In the age of the Web, I am constantly aware of how easy it can be to locate these lost individuals. Tonight, I found the contact info for someone I'd been wondering about since graduation. I hope he writes me back.

Another friend, well, he is gone. He cannot be found on the Internet and I have no other means of locating him. I can't even come up with a mutual friend who might know what happened to him. I am convinced he's run away to a foreign country because of his passion for foreign cultures and his lack of web presence. It would benefit me to forget about him, so I wouldn't feel the loss of his friendship so much. But, alas, I can't.

All in a day's work

Saturday was significant. I moved almost everything I own (save what I need every day) to my new apartment 2 hours from here. My parents showed up with the U-Haul from their house full of one entire bedroom of furniture, plus most of another, and some odds and ends.

We had a fun time getting things in order: arranging the living room to incorporate a conversation nook and an entertainment area; making the guest bedroom into a music room/office, too; and washing and putting away all of my new Pfaltzgraff dishes. It's cute, it's roomy and I'm in love with this place.

There were two particularly memorable things that happened. The first was the putting together of the bookshelves, which involved an entire box of tools, 7 pieces of fake wood, 4 people, and one generous hole in the side of the shelves. I hope to never forget how it got there. The second was my early graduation gift, which was...A DIGITAL CAMERA!

I am so excited with this new piece of equipment and am quite sure my life is about to change. I have all week to read up on how it works and what types of settings it has, etc. Which is thrilling. Hopefully, my blog will soon sport more pictures, as I will no longer have to wait for someone else to send me the digital photos to post. I can do it myself!

It's almost as if nothing can phase me this week. And to top it off, my landlord gave me a rice cooker that is exactly like the one she has, which I have been using and raving about all semester. How thoughtful of her!

A great way to begin the last week of my first master's career.

Last lunch

I guess that's what it was...our last lunch. I went to my favorite restaurant with two of my favorite people here in B-town, and we had a lovely time. Our server, Peter, was so kind and told us we were "fun" and he'd always be our man when we patronized this restaurant.

As we parted ways, it hit me, sort of like a cold wind in the face: that's it. I may never see Jami again. I hope to. I mean, I'm sure we'll be librarian friends across the country and I even hope to be able to work together with her on papers or projects again. We had a great time doing that last Spring. But as for living near each other and being proximity friends, that's over.

Up to the point I turned and walked away, I hadn't thought I'd be sad for a single second in leaving this city, this university. But I was. Not overwhelmingly so, but ever so slightly. Enough to make me stop in my tracks and turn around for one last wave...

I will miss you, Jami. And Kelly, you too, when I leave next Saturday. And Kate, you, too.
There were wonderful things about the past 18 months - thanks, friends, for helping me discover that.

Why is it

that when a girl wears cute shoes she feels sexier?

I don't understand.

I've never been in on this secret, until my sister insisted I buy some heels this year. I had a taste of it, but didn't trust this new-found feeling.

Today while Christmas shopping, I saw several pairs of cute heels - I tried them all on and nearly bought 4 of them. Instantaneously I felt different with them on.

I hate having to give in to "facts" that culture and society have laid out for me, but it's true.

I'm cuter in heels.

Dang.

Bus Stop Buddy

I met a very lovely old man at the bus stop today. I had just missed the noon bus, but decided to wait outside for the next one anyway.

The old man was holding a Priority Mail package, open end up, and shifting his weight back and forth on his feet. He had pearly fake teeth and a nice smile.

"You have a car, but you take the bus!"

I don't normally converse with people in bus stops. Not because I'm snobby, but because it's awkward, even with the people you see every day. There is a guy in my program, actually, who rode the bus with me all of last year and we never spoke. We'd see each other in our small library, and we might smile, but no words were exchanged. He's in one of my classes this semester, and we haven't really spoken, even though it's clear we both realize we rode Bus 7 last year. Two weeks ago we spoke for the first time. It was because our class is horrific and every student (save three very dedicated souls) has bonded with the rest of us who hate the class. All that's to say, today was our last class and Mystery Man #1 says to me, "We should have been friends last year on Bus 7." It's true. He's pretty cool.

Coming back to the story at hand.

I smile and explain the parking situation on campus. He then offers,

"I wrote a book!" (and yes, everything he says is with enough enthusiasm for an exclamation point.)

I asked what it was about. I mean, it was just the two of us there in the tiny bus shelter, and I was interested in his story. It was about the war. Then he taps my arm and says,

"You ever hear of Glenn Miller?"

"As in the musician?"

"Yes. I killed him."

I stood there shocked, though smiling. What do you say to a murderer who confesses to your face? He began explaining that his book was about this well-kept secret on the death of Glenn Miller and how for 62 years this gentleman in front of me kept his word of not divulging the situation surrounding the musician's death.

But he wouldn't tell me details. "Read the book," he'd say, with a twinkle in his eye. And by the time my bus came ten minutes later, I wanted to read it. To find out what happened to Glenn Miller, someone I had no connection to, other than my brother and maybe my dad have enjoyed his music at some point.

When we boarded the bus, I'd pegged him between the ages of 76 and 89, since both of my grandpas served in the War and one is late 70s and the other late 80s.

The man, Wolfe--the only part of his name he gave me, he knows one of my professors, so we had a connection there. And that caused more talking, but I was thoroughly enjoying myself. He followed me on the bus to continue talking. He contacted a big-wig in Hollywood, a producer even, who might want to make it a movie. An exciting prospect.

I've always enjoyed the elderly generation's stories. So this was a random gift, it seemed. God's act of kindness to me today, on my way to such a loathsome class.
______________________________________________________________

This evening I looked up the book on Amazon. It's called I kept my word, and actually includes many other things about Clarence's time in service. I was excited about reading this book, and considered ordering, but thought I'd check out the excerpt on Amazon first.

I found out that he was 82! And he was 20 when he served in Europe and was entangled in this controversy.

Can I just say that this particular book was published by Author House, a publishing company that I despise because of a certain book or two that I was intimately involved with over the past year. And, while I am still interested in the part about Glenn Miller's death and the cover-up, I don't really want to read the rest of the book. The first five pages available to me were enough.

When I read the words from an old man's mouth and they include "horny," "rubbers," and my favorite sentence: "That Great Depression was a son of a bitch..." -- it's enough. Had I known he was a dirty old man, I may have avoided the conversation altogether. I'll try to let it pass, since I'll never have to interact with him again.

But, WOW!

Maddie-ism

When telling a story to her aunt Leslie, Maddie began:

"This one time, oh gosh, it was so long ago...I might have been two, or even one. Oh gosh, I don't even think I was a number yet!"