Another List of Yesteryear.

Things I've done since October 2013:

1. I traveled to Europe for the first time since college — this time to Ireland with my sister and mom. The three of us had never taken a trip anywhere together, and save for three blow ups* (one each), we had a pretty excellent time. 
• Colleen's was right after landing when my mom picked her up from the airport at 6am and somehow a 20 minute car ride took 3 hours. ("Fuck one way roads."-Mommy Sheila)
• Mine was post getting hammered in Dingle when my mom told me I couldn't get more hammered. I was a woman outside of herself. I've had many a terrible moment, but I think that one takes the cake as far as intent to cause pain.
• Sheila's came when Colleen and I made her ride 33 miles around the Dingle Peninsula. She claimed she couldn't do it and had allegedly not ridden a bike in eight years. Lies. Not a month ago my father made her go for a bike ride around our home town and she claimed again that she hadn't ridden a bike in eight years. What gives, Sheila?
2. I bought my first car: a brand new 2014 black Volkswagon Jetta SE. In the '50s someone my age might be in the market to buy a house or pop out a child. To that I say, this car is my house. She doubles as my baby. Some of you may pipe up, "But, B, what about that sweet ass Pontiac Grand AM you used to cruise around Chicago in?" — well, that was a family car that first belonged to my sister and then eventually bopped around between my younger brothers and me. It was not technically mine, and I am glad for that. My taste is better.
3. I said goodbye to too many of my best friends when I left Chicago. But I did it. I hopped into my new ride and drove from Chicago to Los Angeles in five days stopping at hotels and the houses of friends and family along the way. It was my first cross country road trip without my family, my first time driving further West than Iowa, and my first time doing it with a friend.
4. We drove. We stopped in Iowa City and Des Moines, cruised through Nebraska during the day time, fully experiencing flyover land. Carly almost got a ticket from an eager police officer, and I went through my first corn maze. We went to Denver for the first time. We hiked Red Rocks. We saw dinosaur fossils. We stayed in the Unsinkable Molly Brown's Hotel. We bought trashy swimsuits from H&M and PacSun. We drove up and down a mountain by accident in Boulder, Colorado. We didn't find that waterfall hike we were looking for. We drove through the desert. We took Route 66. We heard the Barenaked Ladies song "Odds Are" 100 times. We drove and hiked through Monument Valley. We drove to the Grand Canyon. We wore our trashy swimsuits in the hot tub at the Grand Canyon Inn we stayed at near the North Rim. We were hungry, and nowhere was open. No pizza delivered, and we split a smushed granola bar for dinner. We hiked. We drove on. We drove through Arizona. We listened to the Maria Bamford special three times on Comedy Central XM radio. We crossed into California blasting the Beach Boys and then that song "California," aka The OC theme song. We unloaded my car. And I moved into my first Los Angeles apartment.
5. Only two weeks later I got my first job at my first interview and worked for a talent agency for the first time — that is until I quit that job because it was terrible. I reflected on the decision to quit with happiness. Quitting that job meant knowing that if I didn't like something I could change it, so I did.
6. During that time at that awful position, my mom came and visited for her birthday. She asked, "What's LA got anyway? Some cement and one palm tree?" I went home for Thanksgiving, then my friend (and now current roommate) Julie Pearson visited, a few days later my friend Mike Kelly visited, and after that I went home for Christmas. Everyone asked me how LA was for what seemed like hours and probably was hours. I answered with "It's great"-s and "I'm so glad I did this to myself"-s. I did it because I both believed it and wanted to believe it. Through gritted teeth and a faux smile sometimes, I said many things I didn't believe at the time, but at the end of the day, I really am glad I made this choice.
7. I decided to finally take voiceover class and now I have this great demo I made with Carroll Kimble Casting. I'm shopping it around.
8. I had my first New Years in LA at a speakeasy called No Vacancy. Aziz Ansari was there, and I felt so cool. Zooey Deschanel was at the after party, and I was drunk. I stepped on her foot, said sorry, and felt less cool.
9. I took my first UCB classes; I took my first Groundlings classes; I took my first workshops; I took a solo sketch writing class. I jumped fully in with all my clothes on. And it felt like sinking sometimes. For me, it's become increasingly evident that I love taking classes, but I haven't finished any programs here because I am so tired of improv class. So, I recently signed up for a Commercial Auditioning class for working actors with Killian Murphy at the request of my agent. Also, I have an agent. Now I consider myself a working actor.
10. I've been part of three short films since moving. I've been in a handful of sketch videos. I've done a slew of improv shows and handful of sketch shows.
11. I tried stand up for the first time, and I loved it. I need to do it more because it makes me think of the world differently.
12. I made an independent improv team with friends that I knew peripherally and now consider best. We pretend that we want to write a play together, and hopefully we will some day. Our name is Windy City Gyros, so called named after that delicious gyro restaurant in Chicago on Broadway. I once dropped off Anthony Oberbeck there after a (long pause) rehearsal instead of at his house. I remember thinking that of anyone I knew, I could certainly imagine him actually living in the basement of Windy City Gyros. I hate the name of our team, but I love us. 
13. I worked as PA on the set of "Whose Line Is It Anyway?" I had the best time, running around for 14 hours in a row, checking on things, getting stuff, gophering essentially. For a busy body like me, it was the best. Like camp, but you got paid. It was there I met my friend Tori who became my second LA roommate.
14. I wrote a two-person sketch show with David Blum in two (or was it three?) weeks called "Faithful: Relationships, Schmelationships" performed at the LA Comedy Festival. We had fun, and I love(d) writing with Blum.
15. My family took a trip to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, and I got some of my favorite stand-up material out of it. For the first time in a decade we all vacationed together in the same spot. For eight people to somehow manage that was a trip in more than one way.
16. My dad came and visited Col, Kev and I, then we went to Santa Barbara. We rode bikes along the ocean path, went to the zoo, had a fancy dinner after my dad schmoozed the hostess into seating us, tasted so many different kinds of wine, and had a really lovely time. My dad watched me do stand up about him, and he laughed.
17. My friend Joe Underbakke came to visit and his itinerary showed me all the reasons why I love living here. Mike came to visit again, and we went to our first Dodgers game! I proceeded to go to three more baseball games this year, none of which were White Sox games, which was sad, but in the end just fine. (Angels with Blum, Dodgers again with my indie team, and a Rangers game when I went to Dallas to visit my brother, Sean.)
18. I went to visit my brother Sean in Dallas when he was working there on a contract job. It was the first time I ever spent more than a few hours one-on-one with Sean. We went to the Stock Yards, I sat on a bull, we got barbecue, he took me to his favorite breakfast spot: The Waffle House, we stayed at the Hilton one night, he took me to the Rangers game, picked me up and dropped me off at the airport, and we didn't fight once.
19. My friend Nancy and her daughter came to visit too, and I played hostess, showing them all the reasons I live here. My friend Carmen Christopher came, and I showed him reasons I love it here. My friend Cynthia Bangert came, and I showed her reasons she should move here. My mom and little brother Timmy came, and I unsuccessfully showed them why I love it here. 
20. I had an existential crisis for four weeks after my birthday through Independence Day. I wrote a lot. I was very unhappy, very aware of my loneliness despite surrounding myself with people, like a shell of myself. My comedy was really funny (and I don't even care if that sounds conceited), because I was really sad. It was the only thing that made me feel good.
21. It was then I wrote my first solo show: "Heart/s," which I performed in both LA and Chicago at three different theaters. So many of my friends came, so many regular audience members came, and I was so overjoyed at the outcome and their reactions. It was nothing short of heartwarmingly unreal. I'll be performing it again soon this November at Second City Hollywood, as part of a double bill with my solid friend, Rich Baker, performing his solo show, "Let's Break Up." 
22. I dated people. Now, I date one person, John, and I am so happy about that (mostly because his Pittsburgh accent provides unending opportunities for me to do spot-on impressions of him).
23. I went home to Chicago for my cousin Colleen's wedding at the end of August, and it was a much needed respite. I bought my first black tie gown for the wedding. I performed "Heart/s" at my favorite theater in Chicago, The Playground Theater. I started the show late because my dad was late, and I didn't want him to miss it. At the end he said he would have watched 15 more minutes. I smiled. I dressed up in an all gold jumpsuit and did a fun music video lip-sync to Run DMC's "Tricky" with my dear friends Emma Mullens and Jeremy Pautz. I went to Michigan to my parents cabin with one of my closest friends, Joe Underbakke, along with my mom, sister and dad. We had the sort of vacation you have when you're nine, and I was the happiest girl. I saw the new iO and the new Annoyance, and I saw how many of my friends have decided to move out of Chicago, and I saw all the ones who have decided to stay. I cleared out my childhood bedroom of everything I didn't want. I saved all of my journals, short stories, essays and plays. I found the first play I'd ever written, "It's Complicated."
24. I became part of my first iO West Harold team, Steel Shark. They are all excellent and hilarious players. It's exciting to be part of a group of people that are not just fun and talented, but are real friends. At the risk of sounding weird, I want to say this, I value them an insane amount.
25. After the success of "Heart/s" I was confident in my solo material, and so was my friend Joel Axelrod, so he booked me for the top slot of his new show at iO "Risky Business." I performed "All That Glitters," a collection of characters who all wear that gold jumpsuit from my Run DMC days. A slew of friends came. My sister Colleen and I got dinner beforehand, she watched the show, and so did John. I was nervous because, well, nerves, but it was so fun. John and I got "Good Job, Brigid" milkshakes at Mel's afterward. 
26. I joined a gym, vomited up half a bagel with cream cheese and a handful of blueberries onto one of the personal trainer's desks after pushing myself past my brink, and then somehow signed up for 7 training sessions, which have inexplicably been morphed into a recurring monthly fee. You could say I've lived to regret joining a gym. However, I've beat the system and figured out a way to get out of my (hahaha) not-so-ironclad personal training contract. I maintain I was under the influence of vomitsanity so cannot be held accountable for any of my choices. I don't know how I got home.
27. I started a new job that came in the nick of time — before the fear of being a poor starving artist became a reality, but not before I thought "Shit, I'm going to be a poor starving artist. I'm not going to be able to afford anymore shoes." I enjoy the job for now, and I'm thankful that I have one. It provides me with the chance to meet people in the industry, watch Q-and-A's with actors like Billy Bob Thornton(!), and the flexibility to go on an audition when called, plus I get to keep living in LA. Sure, I'm sitting a lot (see last blog), but it's a fair trade for now.
28. I celebrated a year of living here, and at no point did I feel like I made a bad decision in coming here. To commemorate my year, I took myself to my favorite coffee shop, Bricks and Scones, vented to my roommate about my job (I'm still a millennial artist lady, after all), and then cooked dinner and watched Tommy Boy with John.

A "goodbye to my old life" list.

A few years ago I made a huge list of all the things I had accomplished in my first year after graduating college. Today I went through my "pieces of paper with notes, bits and bots written on them." I have a lot of these. They're on scraps of paper. They're on receipts. They're ripped out from notebooks. They are a collection of the things I deemed important at some point in the last year or so.

I found one particular piece of paper that's a to-do list of things I had to get done before moving to LA. It's the longest list. I made it during a meeting at work. I remember thinking "I don't have anything to add, and also this meeting isn't pertinent to me anymore, but I guess I'll stay."

To Do:

• iPhone (Sepho) - I see where my priorities were. I don't know what Sepho means
• MacBook Pro - I ended up waiting to purchase one of these until about two months ago.
• Final Draft - Still haven't gotten it, but my brother, Kevin, gave me a copy of MovieMagic which has been really a great system.
• Boxes - I'm assuming at this point I thought I was going to rent a Uhaul and have everything perfectly packed into 3x3x3 boxes on boxes on boxes. I didn't end up doing that and most of my furniture is at my old apartment with my old life and my best friend to keep it company.
• Shin compression - For those of you who don't know, when I was hit by a car, the woman who nailed me hit my shin pretty hard too and tore the fascia, which is essentially the casing around all of our muscles beneath our skin. When it tears, the muscle becomes herniated, so I have a slight bump. I am self-conscious.
• 5 video sketches - These did not happen, but that's ok. I did a lot of other writing.
• Invent America - This is one of those sketches. My friend Erin moved away onto a boat for a while so we ended up never doing it, but it would've been cool, and we still can at some point.
• Apartment sublet - This I did. No thanks to my nut landlord (SUSAN, the hateful) who every single time I talked to her made me cry or made me yell — either way, I was a teary mucus-y mess. Some people are just volatile. I've never dealt with a worse person.
• Sell bed - I did this too! My cousin and close confidante Kathleen got this bad girl. 
• I ended up giving mostly everything else away or leaving it for the perfect Cynthia Bangert (desk, chair, couch, rug, kitchen chairs)
• Mail art - This was a stupid idea. I just wrapped it in blankets and put it in my car. It took up a lot of space, but it was worth it.
• Pack stuff for Kev and Col (my siblings) to take. Neither of them took anything back to LA for me because they said they didn't want to wait for baggage claim. True story. It's fine, but at the time, I was like, "Really? Whatever."
• Talk to MA (that is my Chicago agent that, while very kind, was not very good)
• SketchTest - I did this. It's a great show in Chicago where you can essentially put up ideas, thoughts, semi-finished sketches and see how they work in front of people on a stage)
• Ireland - Sept 25-Oct 6 - This was the best trip. I am so glad my mom, sister and I could do this together.
• Shower for Quinns - My cousin Brian got married, and my mom wanted me to help her throw the shower. I did. And it was nice. My cousin Colleen is getting married later this summer and my mom wanted me to come home to help throw the shower again. I'm not, but it would've been nice. I think I have to stay in LA without going anywhere for a while. I am going home at the end of August though for the wedding. It will be good.
• Michigan? - I'm really sad I didn't make time to go to Michigan last summer. I haven't been in so long, and it's really one of my favorite places. 
• Call David B - David Balkan is one of the best people I think I know, or that's out there in the world, period. I feel very lucky to have a mentor and friend in him.
• Call Kevin - Kevin is my baby brother who I love so much. It would have been next to impossible for me to feel as comfortable as I have been able to be in LA without him and Colleen, our sister.
• Call Col - Colleen and I are really lucky to have one another. Sometimes we don't tell each other what's going on in our lives, and I hate that. I hate not knowing how she is doing and that's become less and less of how our relationship is. I'm glad she's my neighbor. And I'm glad she cares about me. I get scared when I think about how we're all getting older and it makes my heart stop when I think about a world where one of us won't be there and the other will.
• Call Alli - Alli was my first Chicago roommate. She was my first LA roommate. She moved back to NYC, and I completely understand why, but I miss her, and I took our friendship for granted when we lived together. I'm really sorry about that.
• Car insurance for Pat Anderson - had to get it, also had to get a car. I really like my car. Pat Anderson is my lawyer. Or was. I am finally done with dealing with insurance claims and medical bills and the general stress that living after a really scary accident brings up. It's been 2 years. Things are ok.
• Credit cards - I don't know what this means. I think I was concerned about my credit score because of all the medical bills. But we're good here.
• Contact Bank of America - Ugh, the worst bank. I canceled all my things with them. A weight was lifted.
• PG Sched Sept, Oct, Nov. - I used to schedule the PG shows and for whatever reason was always stressed about it. I think I just took on too much because I didnt want to deal with things in my life, so I was just busy all the time. For those that are very close to me, thanks for seeing beyond this crazy person exterior.
• Meeting with Thomas about doing calendar - Thomas Einstein is a very good friend to me. He took over the scheduling with Jake Miller, and they've both been amazing. I talked to both of them at length last week and feel very lucky that despite being very far apart, we are close.
• Long Pause - My sketch group. I am forever thankful for the day Chris Bragg came into the Annoyance while I was interning and invited me to be part of my favorite group in Chicago. Thank you.
• Chris Gaines - One of the craziest shows and most fun casts. It was just a fun idea that Greg Ott dreamed up. He's a really good writer, and I like him a lot. I felt, I don't know, just lucky, I guess, that he invited me into the show. I only wish Bryan Duff had stayed in the show. That idiot.
• Goodbye Party 10/12? Honestly, this was a weird night. I said goodbye to those I love.
• Denver (Aug 19, Sept 1, Sept 9, Sept 30) - My iO improv team's final shows. So fun. Great group. Miss it. Love it.
• Annoyance Party - August 25 - I don't think I went to this. No, I did. This was the party right before they closed the old space. Now they just opened the new space. And, I so look forward to seeing it when I'm home later this summer.
• Brian Q wedding 10/11 - That wedding was a good time.
• Alinea - I took myself out to a fancy as hell 10 course dinner with my friend David Blum, Jessica Maciejeski and her lovely boyfriend Blake. I don't know how to spell Jessica's last name, and she goes by "The Treat" on facebook, so I will never know.
• Commercial and online? - What does this mean?
• Sept 5 - massage? - My old boss and friend, Casey bought me a massage for my birthday because he is the kindest.
• NYC (?) when? - This did not happen. It couldn't have. There is no time.
• CTA - I still have $100 in CTA money that I guess I can still use despite that new thing they have that begins with a V. I don't know. Vesta? No. I don't know. I could google it, but this is more fun.

So, this is my list. It was so full. Everything happened so fast, too fast. And, there still wasn't enough time. Carly and I left Chicago together on October 15th at 4pm. I know. I had to stop at the dealership in the morning. My mom came with me in a different car. When we pulled away from each other, she turned right and I turned left, and we held up traffic for a long time at the intersection of Route 41 Skokie Highway and Park in Highland Park. We were looking at each other from our separate cars, going into our separate lives, waving at each other and crying. It was really hard. Her face.

I write in coffee shops so I don't cry when I write, but I'm crying right now at Coffee+Food on Melrose. Well, I'm tearing up because I can't be that girl. I can't be the girl who openly weeps at Coffee+Food on Melrose. 

Carly was a champ. A real champ. I am so glad she was my transition friend. She is light. She is joy filled. She is what it means to be excited. And she's not a terrible driver, despite that police officer in Nebraska who wanted to give her a ticket, but then didn't because we are so cute. I'm not a great driver. I'm not a bad driver. I just want to go fast...like Ricky Bobby. Ha. Anyway. We had a goodbye coffee at Asado with Joe and Cynthia the day or so before: our quartet. We all cried. Even Joe. I want to remember what he said, "Oh, we're doin' this?" I think was along the lines.

When I went to get Carly on the actual day, she was so funny. She had a purple backpack for the week.  For anyone that has ever seen her in the world ever, you know the bag I'm talking about. Girl does not leave home without it. And she also had an orange creamsicle colored towel that we ended up using to clean off dirt from my car because I thought it was stupid to get a carwash while on a road trip, even though we legit could not see anything at one point. I mean, it is stupid, though, a carwash on a road trip, please. I kept that towel.

With every mile I got further from Chicago and closer to LA. Obviously. But it was weird. It was the slowest motion. My life changed, and I was witnessing the change. I was the one driving. I was the one making it happen. I was doing this to myself. I don't know how to describe it. It was like my heart kept falling when I would look at the mile markers or the "Welcome to" whatever state signs. This thing that I had dreamt of doing for years was finally happening. I was doing it. And I remembered why it was so hard and why it took me so long to do it — because of people. I knew how much I would miss my people.

I'm still shocked by how much I miss people. I don't know if it's shock, but I think it's a little that I did not know the depths of some of my relationships until I wasn't there in them, living them anymore. Even as I fill my time with work, with new friends, with new experiences, new shows, new improv teams, new everything, it's hard. 

I already had a whole life in Chicago. I didn't realize how deep my investment was there. And, I cashed it all in for something new. That's exciting, but it's scary. Los Angeles is the first place I've ever moved where I have no intention of going back to my old life. This is it for me.

Unlikely Acquaintances Who Become Friends.

There are thirty-seven cars on her street right now. She knows because she counted them. Earlier, Joanie (don't ask, she hates her name) went for a run...what was going to be a run, and instead, she got sidetracked into a conversation with her neighbor Manuel (that's pronounced Man-Well, not Man-You-Uhl, like she originally thought). They are in their building's downstairs lobby. He's sitting on one of the Pier1 Imports chairs that no one sits in normally.

"Hello pretty neighbor," says Manuel getting up to greet her. This is how Manuel speaks to all of his female building-mates. Just your typical overly friendly 65 plus Latino neighbor.

"Hi," Joanie says. "So good to see you." They hug, and Manuel gives her a small kiss on her cheek, very close to her right eye. Joanie tags on that last bit because Manuel's face is so expectant, his cracked corn cob smile visible behind dry lips.

"We are good today," he says hoping she's with him in his we-ness. She is. Manuel reminds her of her church growing up. There was an usher at Christ the King who was, well, too excited to lead people to their seats. He would say, "Today is the day, is the day, the day for you to sit...!" and he would guide them down the center aisle to whichever pew looked most empty, and shake everyones hands proclaiming the peace of the Lord be with them. She can't remember his name now. It's not really important, either.

"I'm just on my way out, Manuel," she says still smiling. Joanie is wearing bright violet running shorts with a zebra stripe down each side, Nike stitched onto the right, and a black dry-fit tank claiming: Strength. The green iPod nano currently playing her Top Tracks playlist is clipped to her arm. It will inevitably get annoying, as it will certainly hit the inside of her bicep. Eventually Joanie will elect to hold it.

"Oh, yes, yes. I see," Manuel says, adjusting his short-sleeved button up that is indeed buttoned up all the way. "I would fall down." He laughs at this sentiment.

Joanie smiles. "Me too," she admits, a girlish giggle cropping up.

Joanie hadn't gone for a run in over a month. The last time she did she was not three blocks from her apartment when she just face-planted, licking the pavement. As far as she could tell, no one had seen her Total Life Fail Moment, but in reality, someone did see and periodically when that someone is doing dishes and annoyed at her husband, she thinks of that girl who tripped and fell and smiles, laughing to herself. Her husband asks, "What's that about?" assuming she's laughing at him, because everyone assumes they're being laughed at when they're the only other person in the room, but she wasn't. She was laughing at the girl who fell, Joanie. Joanie doesn't know she exists, so the woman is no one important, thus she has no name.

Manuel shares his smile with her again. "Please, please, go on."

"Oh, thank you," Joanie says, turning her music down finally. "Are you going to be OK today?"

"Yes, I'm waiting for my daughter to come get me." He looks anxious.

"That's great. Are you getting lunch together?"

"Yes." He pauses, and Joanie starts to turn her iPod back on, but then, "She's looking at my apartment."

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"Is she helping you with something?"

"I'm going to go move in with her."

The unlikely acquaintances who became friends both look sad.

Finally, "When?" asks Joanie.

"This weekend."

"So soon?"

"Yes."

There's another long pause. Manuel's gaze is affixed to his friend, and then he hears a car pull up.

"Is she here?"

"Yes, this is her. Arabelle."

"Beautiful name."

"It is."

"Well, I guess, I'll —" Joanie cuts herself off. She didn't expect to be so sad. Manuel's her kind neighbor, but just a neighbor. A friend, who's about her own father's age. And Arabelle is about her age, maybe a little older. "I'll get going on this run. You let me know when you leave, though."

"Ok," says Manuel. He grins, waves at his daughter. She gets out of her turquoise RAV4, "Hi dad!"

Joanie waves, then turns to go, beginning her brisk run. A Ryan Adams song begins to play.

"Hello Gracie you're a good little girl. It's a beautiful world, oh when you're out in it. Last time I saw you playing in the yard, you were running with children and the old people were smiling..."

Un-unique

Elaine Terre, Ellie to her friends, leaned gracefully over her egg white porcelain sink. Her eye make-up smudged all over her upper and lower lids. Trapped in the corners of her hazel eyes were the remnants of tears she was attempting to wipe away.

"I'm just done." She thought it out loud. "I'm just," a pregnant pause, an exasperated sigh, "done."

She'd been fired. It felt like a glorified dumping. Broken up with by the career that didn't want her anymore. Left alone on the skirts of Unemploymentville Co. Population: her. She felt like a cliché, and all of her thoughts backed that feeling up.

It happens to everyone. The phrase echoed in her head from a conversation she'd finished earlier that evening with her sister. Her sister, Carolyn, was an attractive young woman, aged 29, single, with a semi-high-powered career on the way to an actual high-powered career in fashion merchandising. She had little empathy for anyone when it came to relationships, jobs or general livelihood, likely due to her lack there of.

Carolyn and Elaine had a tumultuous relationship growing up, not unlike most sisterly relationships. Elaine, being the younger, found talking to Carolyn exacerbating, and would dodge opportunities to do so regularly —that is she until Carolyn would figure out a way to corner Elaine into conversation, often by trapping her in actual corners.

During the summers the pair would play a game in their country club swimming pool called, Spider. Essentially, one of the girls would hold onto the sides of the pool, often in a corner, with their legs spread while the other would have to attempt passage through the triangulated legs and arms of her sister without touching. If one indeed touched, even a hair, a strike would be marked. Three strikes and you would have to run around the perimeter of the pool. It doesn't sound as bad in retrospect, but summers in the midwest still brought about a cool air that made the pool a warm sanctuary once you were in, as the outside world remained an icy fortress.

Ellie thought about all those memories as she starred past her own reflection, wiping away her history and whatever Revlon still clung to her cheeks. Still, more tears clouded her vision.

Was I wrong? She questioned for the nth time. But she knew the answer. No, she wasn't wrong. And, she shouldn't have been as upset as she was.

It happens to everyone, El. 

Favorite Words. &. the Right Now.

1. Pedestrian.
2. Lexicon.
3. Turbulent.
4. Sheesh.

Language fascinates and excites me. People frustrate and encourage me. Arms length protects and separates me. Imagination propels and challenges me. Hurt defines and kills me. Sarcasm helps and destroys me. Happiness flees from and revels in me.

These are my things. They're mine. They're who I am. Today.

Apartments.

When the morning is just beginning there's the all too familiar Four-Second Hesitancy. Should you get up? Probably. Will you? Probably. But do you want to? Probably not.

Apartment hunting. It's a weekend activity akin to boating or taking your children to a park. It requires preparation and, depending on how long you'll be out and how far away everything is from the other, sunscreen. I must have forgotten how miserable apartment hunting is though, because I jumped readily at the chance to relocate. And now, here I am two weeks to go until I must go, and the road to free street parking and a coffee shop within walking distance is not yellow brick paved. I probably should have taken a Four-Second Hesitancy before giving up my darling Old Town two bedroom.

Oh, well.

Five Things I Love About 1950 N. Burling St., Apt. 2R
1. Knowing what the R stands for.
2. The purple blue wall.
3. Tricking your eyes.
4. Claws on the tub.
5. Open spaces. High Ceilings. Nice Porch.

Wisdom & Working

"They weren't born like that, you know. The self-made millionaires, the now-famous who started with nothing...They learned the skills that brought them to the top, then they practiced, and through practice they changed their behavior — and their behavior made them different people; wholly different. You can be different too — any way you want to be..."

-originally from paragon-athletics

I read this in an e-mail a good friend sent to me about a month ago. Since then I have tacked it up in a cubicle, carried it around as a bookmark (in my Personal History book) and read it nearly a hundred times. It helps me.

The thing is, I've realized that through keeping an on-going list of all the books I've read this year that my most enjoyable have all been either autobiographies or biographies. Even the fiction works I've read all fall into a sort of realistic fiction where something reads as if it could have happened. But, what's more important is that it's through seeing my enjoyment in reading real-life stories that I've come to want to live a life worthy of recounting (slash I've always wanted that, just affirmation). It seems unfortunate to me that many people lead lives that (perhaps I unfairly judge) seem mundane to me. There's a sort of rhythm to life I've noticed as evidence in taking the Chicago Metra train to work every day. People sit in the same spots, wear the same self-given or office-given uniform and talk about their lives by the copy machine, how their significant other is being difficult, how they wish they could take off the afternoon, skip out early on a whim and go on a trip to Lake Geneva. I never wanted the pinnacle of my day to be leaving work.

See, I figure if you're going to be somewhere for 40 to 60 hours per week, you should like it. Maybe that's a development akin to recent years of easy-living for the under 30s, but I don't care. Why shouldn't you like your life away from and at the workplace? It seems a bizarre notion that every day, in order to be productive, has to be recounted in an excel spreadsheet with a regimen that looks, feels and is exactly the same.

Fortunately for me, I've been able to surround myself with people that have higher hopes, and more so, expectations than that — and even still the ability to carry out those passions. Thankfully after sending out an e-mail letting friends know I was leaving behind Cubicle City for some fresh air, I didn't receive any "Are you insane?" messages back. That's just a testament to good friends, good character and like-mindedness, that unfortunately many aren't accustomed to.

History (see autobiographies and biographies) has time-and-again proved that real success doesn't come from sitting on the sidelines. Waiting out the big dogs. Or sitting in a cubicle waiting for someone to give you the go-ahead. I don't want to keep my head down and act natural. There's something to be said for biding your time, but there's also something to be said for knowing what you want, and knowing what you don't want. And if you can be decisive, then be that.

Working

Here's a parred down version of excerpts from an e-mail I sent a few people regarding the day-to-day grind of my first real-real-real job working in a cubicle and my subsequent rejection of that life with built-in inner turmoil. All I can say is, time-wasting is the worst type of waste, so if you know you want to change something, get to it.

"I've just started this new job, I thought it pertinent information to let you know I am quitting.

"Yes.

"You read that correctly...

"I had been chatting with my dad [about my stint on the job so far, and really could only say],"Meh" about it. And it was bizarre. Larry, the man that just wants his kids to get jobs and fall in [the corporate] line, says to me: "Bridge, if you're not happy there, don't do it. You'll get something else." He didn't even encourage me to give it a little more time. Seriously. He went into a spiel about [his first job out of college, describing how he would] just get antsy. That's like me, antsy...

"What's weird is, I went out with some kids from [the company] the other day after work and while walking to the restaurant learned that mostly everyone who works [there] at the same position as me haven't even realized how long they've been at the company. They're content in a sort of job coma. I mean, it's got to be the benefits! I swear, none of the fun jobs offer them. My suspicion has me thinking that perhaps it's a way for the fun jobs to weed out the faint of heart. But. That said. What good is a healthy body, if it's only to serve as a shelter for a broken heart and a job comatose soul?

"Note: I am going to use it eventually in my book: My Life as a Non Journalist."

Other tales of working woes:
John

Susan

Middleness

There's even a whole website devoted to venting about your job. People need to man-up and leave what they don't like. Stagnant. Content. Interchangeable. I don't like that. If you google "I hate my job" in quotes you get over three-million sites. That's sad. It seems other people are less acclimated to life in a paid-to-go-to-a-place-that-feels-like-a-punishment.

"Who am I?" "I don't know." "I guess I have a lot of things to ponder." -Derek Zoolander

“You don't know me at all.” –Ben Folds, featuring Regina Spektor, “You Don’t Know Me”

We all know what happens when we say things like, “ You don’t know me at all” to a counterpart—whether it’s a friendship where one’s Batman and the other’s Robin, or a parent to a child. The relationship is cut off and you start at scratch (or at least as much scratch as you can get). But what happens when you don’t know yourself at all? You can’t exactly sever all ties.

Ben Folds and Regina Spektor sang a duet on Fold’s semi-recent album Way to Normal (a route unknown all together), titled “You Don’t Know Me.” With a few small tricks of the piano, the melding of a man and woman’s poppy voices together, and rather depressing lyrics, a song was born. It’s actually sort of like The Weepies’ “Nobody Knows Me At All” from “Say I Am You,” but more about a sour relationship than a statement on repeat like The Weepies.

I was listening to both songs tonight. A friend sent me The Weepies tune earlier tonight, and last week Spektor dropped her follow-up album to hit-machine (though not her debut disc) “Begin to Hope.” The album, titled “Far,” plays sweetly, sometimes sadly, but mostly it’s just interesting. Sort of like this question I posed.

I’ve been thinking about the notion of Quarter-Life Crisis’s. Everyone’s heard of the pending Mid-Life Crisis, but it seems that everything is becoming fast forwarded, and now we’re stressing ourselves out earlier and earlier. This evening I was chatting with a friend from college about how I have these mini crises every day about life choices and the like. It got me to thinking about being 50 and wondering if I’d make the right choices. I guess I’m trying to get my crisis out of the way today, make the correct decisions now, so that I won’t have one comes the big five-oh. See, I can’t imagine being nearly done and thinking, “Well, what was the point? Was this the right path? Or just the path of least resistance?”

The only problem is that I don’t quite know what exactly I want to be doing. Leading me back to the serious issue of perhaps I don’t know myself (not necessarily a completely bad thing). We’ll see how this all pans out. I love that phrase, “It all comes out in the wash.” It makes me feel secure in my own strength, even though it’s meant to make people wary about telling lies.

“When I was a child everybody smiled, nobody knows me at all/ Very late at night and in the morning light, nobody knows me at all.” –The Weepies. “Nobody Knows Me At All”

Compiling the List of Yesteryear

I really enjoy making lists: to-do, check-lists, lists about things I enjoy, etc. etc. I'm a list girl. So, in keeping with my list satisfaction, I've decided to make a list chronicling all of the things I've done in the last year. My first year out of college went quickly at times and slowly at others, but now it's complete and I need to make sure I haven't wasted my time.

1. Graduated from the University of Iowa with Honors degree in Journalism & Mass Comm. and Distinction in English

2. Left Iowa City one week after graduation.

3. Went home for two weeks, began work at L. Marshall Inc. as an administrative assistant until my life caught up with me.

4. Turned 22, basically just 21 plus 1, no big thing.

5. Traveled to Rockford, IL for my good friend Meagan's wedding - was a bridesmaid

6. Applied to numerous positions, including one paid internship in San Francisco, California at Ode Magazine.

7. Took the editorial internship. Moved to California three weeks later. First day was July 6. Mommy Sheila flew out with me. We took a tour of SF to make sure I liked it enough to stay. Visited the Japanese Tea Garden, had sushi in the Richmond, met and fell in love with roommates Nancy and Drina.

8. Jumped headfirst into the job. Wrote dozens of articles for Ode, compiled special reports, edited, copywrote and lived.

9. Colleen visited SF. We went to Muir Woods, ate at Cha Cha Chas Tapas in the Haight, thrift shopped by Golden Gate, visited SF Museum of Modern Art's (MOMA) Frida Kahlo exhibit, drank California wines, and saw a movie about California wine making at Robert Redford's Sundance Theatre.

10. Brian visited SF. We wine tasted, went to a Giant's game, walked around the downtown, ate Mexican in the Mission, made homemade cookies, hit up a sweet Ryan Adams concert at the Fillmore (it was a surprise!) and went to the San Francisco Outside Lands Music Festival.

11. Roommate's Nancy and Drina, and I hit up Golden Gate Park for the Hardly, Strictly Bluegrass Festival. We watched Emmylou Harris, Odetta, Iron and Wine, Joe Purdy, and everyone great during a beautiful San Francisco Indian Summer October day.

12. I went back to Chicago for my cousin Maureen's wedding in October. Stayed for a little over a weekend. Colleen came back from LA too. Family bonding to the nth. Go back to SF to finish the internship and tie up loose ends for about a month and a half.

13. Squeezed in a trip to Las Vegas visiting then-Newly Weds Meagan and Dan Walsh with Brian. Went rock climbing at Red Rocks, hit up a few casinos, lost $20 to the locals, saw the Beatles Love Show at the Mirage, imagined myself as one of Ocean's 13, and jumped out of an airplane for a little mid-morning skydiving. Lived to tell the tale.

14. Kerstin squeezes in a visit to San Francisco while she's working in LA on an engineering job for the Nokia Club. We obviously go shoe shopping, travel to Alcatraz Island, go out to a fancy restaurant in the Marina and meet up with some of my friends for a comedy show downtown. Celebrate Nancy's birthday with a party in the backyard and an apple dessert bar!

15. Somehow now Californian's, yet Midwesterners, Brandon, Kelly and I manage to meet and hang out multiple times during all of this mayhem. Though we never made it into the SF Zoo together, we did do a wine tasting, hang at the beach, see movies, and go out to dinner.

16. Last day at Ode. Get a ride to work with managing editor, Marco, as per usual. We talk about nothing and writing and everything, and then have the last day, which is like any other. Eat cupcakes with the staff. I had a double chocolate Oreo: Hostess Mostess concoction. Wonderful goodbye treat.

17. I managed to get published in each Ode Magazine while interning and in the next four issues after said internship. Learned a ton about publishing, what it takes to really make it in magazines, and figured out I wanted to go to graduate school eventually for something.

18. Mommy Sheila flies to San Francisco on my last day at Ode. She hangs with Nancy, then meets me after work. We get tapas in the Mission. Next day we visit the San Francisco Zoo (finally!) with Drina. Brandon and Kelly can't make it. No bigs. We visit SF's de Young Art Museum. Then, we rent a car and drive 12 hours along the Pacific Coast Highway stopping in Monteray for lunch and Sea Lion sightings and then go to the Hearst Castle in San Simeon for two and a half hours. It was a long and beautiful dream.

19. Finally arrive in Los Angeles. Angry elves: Sheila and Brigid. Annoyed that the other exists at all. Get Italian food with Colleen. Visit with Graham, Charlie and Jordan, while Pat sleeps. Get an angry message from Pat that still hurts my feelings. Colleen and I decide we want to go to the Laugh Factory, we see John Lovitz after getting sushi with She-She. Mom and I take a tour of Hollywood. We go shopping in all the hot spots. I get a Michael Kors dress. I am in love with said dress. See Paramount studios. Visit with Elizabeth Steele, college roomie, who now lives in Hollywood. We get icecream, obviously. Visit to LA is too short. Sad.

20. Fly home. Graham is in the car with the three Marshall women. We apologize incessantly.

21. Get home just in time for Thanksgiving and Mommy's birthday.

22. Two weeks go by. Visit alma mater, Iowa, and all my friends there. Another week goes by. Christmas shopping, hanging with Brian and friends. Christmas arrives. Receive banjo from Brian. Go to Michigan for skiing with family. Get back New Years Eve. That night go out with Brian, his roommates and my friends. Have a good time, all said and done.

23. January, drive with cousin Colleen Quinlan to Georgetown for her final semester. Stay for 6 days. Visit National Archives, visit with friends Abby Bartine and Kyle Simpson. Want to move there. Still in my mind. We'll see. Visit the NEWseum, see a friend, who works there randomly, ask for a job. Drop off resume. No word. No bigs. Drop off more resumes. Visit American University's Journalism graduate program and their International Communications program. Really loved it. Plan on studying for GRE and LSAT. Higher education, here I come.

24. Get home. Meet with family friend to figure out job situation. Send out resumes, get recommended, fly to New York for three interviews. Find out there is no job at the end of the Yellow Brick Road, just informational interviews. Stay with childhood friend, Kate Hawes, yay no hotel fees!

25. Apply for more jobs. Valentine's Day happens. Hang with Brian. He makes delicious lobster and fillet dinner. :) Vow to learn banjo well. Start lessons. Get ready for a week in Florida with Grandpa Harry, Grandma Celeste, Mommy Sheila and my cousin Patrick with his wife Susie. Bonding!

26. Get a job as a regular substitute for St. Martin de Porres High School in Waukegan. It's a work4ed school for disadvantaged students. Good stuff. Get another job as a temp worker for 33 Personnel in Chicago. Get another job as a Sales Associate at J. Crew Inc. in Skokie. Finally am more busy, but still feel like I need something more.

27. Visit Iowa City again. Hang with Paul and baby Isaiah. Guest host for KRUI 89.7's 25th Anniversary Weekend. Woo! Catch up with friends finishing school, and figuring out lives. Go home in time for St. Patrick's Day: Southside Irish Parade with cousins.

28. April: Brian's Birthday & Anniversary. Woo! Celebrate with his family just a few hours after a wake. Sad. More sad for Brian though. Strange birthday. April was a big month. White Sox Opening Day happens.

29. Cassie's wedding shower. Buy a griddle. Experience what it's like to buy cutlery. Interesting. I will wait.

30. Erwin and Medina wed! May 16. Colleen's birthday too. Travel to Iowa City for John Wilmes, Sarah Burnett, Sara Stratton and Anne Lingwall's graduation. Continue driving on I-80 into Des Moines. Bachelorette Dinner Party and Wedding Shower with bestfriend Elizabeth. Get interesting advice for her from the marrieds in the group. Spend time with Elizabeth and her family. Get nails done, hang with Steele and Meagan. Rehearsal happens. We cry. Rehearsal dinner happens. We laugh. Meet Elizabeth's friend Lisa, all is well with the world. Next day. Brian drives in from Chicago. Wedding. Somehow Steele, Ekberg/Walsh and I are early. Like by an hour. Amazing. This never happens. Erwin is late. Wedding happens. She is now Medina. Reception. Beautiful. Wish it would have never ended. Jacob, Dance Monster, Erwin, Elizabeth's 4-year-old nephew, dances like a fiend and then invites Steele and I to his 5th birthday party. He let's us know there are extra beds in the basement. Nice. Was a bridesmaid.

31. Fly to New York again for a job interview. Meet up with Kate Hawes again. Hang in Central Park. Really pleasant. Enjoy a nice spring day. Wear new suit I bought from J. Crew. Don't get job. Sad. Fly home. Blackhawks get out of the Stanley Cup runnings. Sad. They fly home from Detroit. Sad.

32. Contact Teach For America people. Apply for a job. Get an interview. Interview is next week. Preparing now. Hope I get it. Doesn't start until August. Would be perfect.

34. Have a feeling I will be attending some sort of higher education in the near future. LSAT prep course and possible GRE prep course are in the works. I love to learn, an exciting thing I'm trying to convey to my sub students.

35. Wait. We'll see what happens next.

it all counts. down.

Top Ten Favorite Things About San Francisco:

1. People here. They're all pretty fun.

2. Pub Crawls in the Mission District with pretty much strangers.

3. Museums and sites.

4. Union Square on crisp Sundays.

5. Sunsets here are brilliant.

6. Recycling Bins on streets. What a concept.

7. Mexican food.

8. Office dance parties slash sass.

9. Mountains in the backdrop.

10. Boats sailing away through Golden Gate.

I didn't take this picture. But it's accurate. I vouch.

Happy Election Day.

Is it horrible that I am more excited for the election tomorrow just so I don't have to talk about politics with everyone left and right? It's not that I'm not jazzed about gaining a new leader. I'm glad that life is moving on and the political process is moving again. It's funny. The last time there was an election I accidentally voted twice. I think. To be honest, I can't remember. I know I requested an absentee ballot for Illinois, but I distinctly remember voting at Quad freshman year at the UI.

In any case, my roommate at the time was very much into a Kerry presidency. Having just left home, ie the land of Catholic small business owners along Chicago's north shore, I was effectively brought to vote for President Bush. I mostly did it in protest of my roommate. She was really annoying with all the Kerry campaign garbage, and I was more interested in annoying her than giving an opinion. I suppose that's the 18-year-old way? If not, then I guess I was just immature. In any case, it didn't matter anyway. Iowa went to Bush and Illinois never had a chance to go to him.

I find myself in a similar situation today. I had the option of voting absentee in Illinois or at the booth in California. I enjoy getting the sticker more than anything announcing to everyone that I voted, so I chose California, naturally. I'm wishing I voted over the weekend at city hall. Tomorrow I have to wake up at 6 am to walk two blocks in order to get to the polling place. Oh well. My sleep is what I'm willing to sacrifice for democracy. Anyway, I know "every vote counts," but at the same time, both California and Illinois are going to Senator Obama. I could see it mattering if I voted in Iowa or Illinois. Swing states, and all. But, is it just me, or does it seem like the popular vote doesn't matter anyway? We all saw Al Gore lose, and we saw Florida fumble last time—I suppose it does matter. And I will be seen voting tomorrow, wearing my sticker proudly, and I'll be watching the announcement on television with other seemingly like minded individuals. I'll be toasting to a renewing four years, and I'll be glad that life is moving on, and Saturday Night Live will have more to coast on.

But what I'm most happy about is that this is a time where the United States gets a chance to revitalize our stance in the world. We get to not so much get a do over, but we get a chance to remake ourselves. I'm just happy that it seems we'll have a president that cares about how we look to the rest of the world. Honestly, that's one of the most important things to me. There's nothing more detrimental to a country than to boast, and say you can go it alone. Because, really, we can't. We're one country in one world, and everyone else matters.

Growing Pains. Life Goes On Whether or Not Anyone Notices

I was thinking about this great scene in Growing Pains yesterday afternoon. I don't quite know how it ended up swirling about in my head, but it was there. Read below if you're curious, then I'll continue.

Mike: Hey dad!
Jason: What is it Mike?
Mike: Gilligan's Island is on every day at three thirty.
Jason: Mike I’m very busy, I’m trying to make a chart.
Mike: Dad, Dad, it's on whether I watch it or not. Gilligan the skipper too, the millionaire, his wife, the professor, and...
Jason: Marianne?
Mike: Exactly.
Jason: Mike, what's the point?
Mike: It's not on for me, it's just...on.
Jason: Mike, are you starting to realize that the world doesn't revolve around you?
Mike: Well, yeah, I guess I am.
Jason: Well, congratulations, you know you've hit upon one of the basic ideas in the philosophies of Camu.
Mike: Don't you see. If Gilligan goes on without me, so does my school. You know all day today life went on, even though I wasn't there.
Jason: Mike this is your first philosophical realization. I’m proud of you. See, you can learn from T.V.
Mike: Dad, all day today life went on without me, and you too...don't you realize, the world doesn't need us any more; it does just fine without us.
-Growing Pains, Season 1, Episode 21- "Career Decisions"

I haven't been diligently keeping up on my reruns of Growing Pains, the hit television show that captured the hearts of youngsters every time Jason and Maggie macked in the kitchen, every time Carol whined about being uncool, every time little Ben impersonated someone famous, and oh, indeed, every time Mike Seaver himself walked on camera. Anyway, the point is that this scene just sort of sprang to mind, specifically the line where Jason says, "This is your first philosophical realization." I was thinking about it because lately I've been applying to a whirlwind of jobs, as I'm now just over half-way finished with my internship with Ode, and I have to start thinking about my life some more. Since I've been in California I've been doing some cool things, meeting new people, catching up with old ones located here in the west, and learning about the magazine business—and that's been great. But, I'm just starting to think more about all the things I'm not doing, too. There isn't enough time in the day, and that is frustrating. If I had all the time in the world I'm sure my list of things I want to do would be similar to many: In no particular order:

1. Be an executive editor at a top-tier magazine
2. Work for a nonprofit
3. Step foot in every country, ie travel all the time
4. Raise a family
5. Be an actress
6. Own a vineyard and a farm
7. Hibernate in a cabin in Michigan all winter long
8. Be really good at skiing, snowboarding, fishing, kayaking, snowshoeing
9. Manage to get killer six-pack abs. (I know vain, but come on, who doesn't get jealous looking at Janet Jackson?)
10. Donate tons of time and money to international aid organizations
11. Live in Washington, D.C., Paris, London, New York, Chicago, Cork (Ireland)
12. Scuba dive and not be scared of sharks
13. Work at an NGO and do things to save humanity
14. I don't know, a handful of other things that I'll think up later.

I have a lot of ideas.

Left and Leaving, Weakerthans

My city's still breathing (but barely it's true)
through buildings gone missing like teeth.
The sidewalks are watching me think about you,
all sparkled with broken glass.
I'm back with scars to show.
Back with the streets I know.
They never take me anywhere but here.
Those stains in the carpet, this drink in my hand,
these strangers whose faces I know.
We meet here for our dress-rehearsal to say " I wanted it this way"
and wait for the year to drown.
Spring forward, fall back down.
I'm trying not to wonder where you are.
All this time lingers, undefined.
Someone choose who's left and who's leaving.
Memory will rust and erode into lists of all that you gave me:
some matches, a blanket, this pain in my chest,
the best parts of Lonely, duct-tape and soldered wires,
new words for old desires,
and every birthday card I threw away.
I wait in 4/4 time.
Count yellow highway lines that you're relying on to lead you home.

Real Life Version

Voxtrot

Love, spread out like seeds
Somebody walked away from landscape poverty
I came to find you
I came to see the beauty underway
That bloomed love, energy
And it turns around like you
And it turns around like me
Into something new
But the only thing I see

I see you, I see you
I see you, always struggling
To find some gentle song
Some mode of simple trust
and ways to understand
These reaching orchards
Of broken fame
Grown deep inside of us
By forced and troubled hands

I see you, I see you
I see you, always struggling
I see you, I see you
I see you, always struggling

To find the sun
Reaching down through shadowed brush
Breaking off the bitter branch
Twisted roots like tans
Dreams of all these spotlit kings
Drinking up the light
Like California redwoods
Splitting up the night

And it turns around like you
And it turns around like me
All the talking we could do
Oh if only we could be
A real life version of you
A real life version of you
And a real life version of me
A real life version of me

I see you, I see you
I see you, always struggling
I see you, I see you
I see you, always struggling

spring break spring

is it really this time of year? is that little bunny hopping around corners already? do i seriously have to think about my career?

holy moly.

if i've ever been nervous, it's now.

when i think about my life and the various directions it could go i really tense up.

i shrink. it's unbearable to feel incompetent although i most likely am quite up to the challenge.

it's just — there's something about this finality that really frightens me.

and while i know that nothing is reversible, i can get out of whatever i fall into. i am that sort of person.

there is just so much i still feel like i have to do here, as a student, as a friend, and i'm scare that my friendships will deteriorate when i leave iowa city, especially the ones that might just now be blossoming.

while i hate to use rhetoric like that, i can't help but feel like it will all whither away. and maybe it's for the best. maybe i'll have amazing relationships wherever my feet land come june, but it hurts.

and although i'm anxiety ridden about this, it's not something that often comes into conversation. no one likes to talk about the ends of things. i don't, and that's probably why things from years past still occupy my thoughts from time to time.

do i just need to let it all go so life can move forward, or can i reconcile these two lives to each other — past and future converging into the present?

Here & Away

You come for me in the worst of places
You come for me, you come and try to take me home
I'm always in need and it's hard to be reciprocating
The fabric of our life gets torn
And everything's changing so how am I to know
How I'm going to hold on to you when I'm spinning out of control

-Ryan Adams "Everybody Knows" off of Easy Tiger

France---well, almost

I have just about 4 days before I depart for France.

Honestly, I haven't made a lot of time for myself to think and plan and all that. I mean, I made probably 10 To-Do lists. I've counseled my University Studies Abroad Consortium (USAC) packets an innumerable amount of times. There doesn't seem to be much more to do, yet I feel incredibly anxious and unsure and to be honest, a little scared. Obviously these are all normal and even natural feelings. Of course adjustment to another lifestyle, language and set of people to hang out with will be most likely trial and error. But, I imagine all will work itself out.

One thing that I touched on briefly while chatting with someone about my extended out-of-country experience, was the possibility for things like illness and death and all of that. It freaks me out to think of what could happen. Brian said that as far as that's concerned I shouldn't be with it. He's right, because it is true that even if I were in Iowa I'd have to come home. The only difference is a pricey plane ticket. Everything else will hurt just the same.

Anyway, there are certainly a zillion things I'm looking forward to. Examples:

1. French Cuisine
2. French Couture
3. French Culture
4. French Language
5. Travel & Adventures!
6. New people

Right now I'm just thinking about how much I already miss my friends who have returned to school without me. Plus, I think that working at my father's office has brought on a little boredom with life in Lake Forest. Not that it was ever that arresting.

On a completely unrelated note, I want a new computer. Mine is no good. However, this far I do not have the proper finances to afford the MacBook Pro. It'll have to wait as I'm planning to spend my cash abroad.

If any of you don't already have my mailing address feel free to shoot one my way.

Brigid Marshall
C/O Robina Müller
Bureau 136 Faculté des Lettres
Université de Pau
64000 Pau, FRANCE

Au revoir mes amies.

Like clockwork

I miss:
-reading for fun
-going to concerts and dancing like a crazy
-whistling
-the days when my butt wasn't in pain after doing homework
-talking to my sister on the phone regularly
-out on a lot of stuff, but i do other stuff
-white sox games
-being right most of the time
-snail mail
-listening to an entire album while driving
-sleeping more than 6 hours


I think the name of this year in my chronology of thoughts since birth would be titled "Time: Having, Yet Not Having."

While at the same *time* I also think I need to spend it better i.e. on things that will last. It's hard to tell the things that are important from the unimportant when I'm so close to it all. I need to back up and look at things from a different perspective.