7.

First off, sorry about the downer of a #6 entry yesterday. Part of my Crazy (you know, the quirks and foibles that make me who I am – and, most likely, make me a person that is hated by some) is that I tend to have a hard time stepping out of the proverbial box and going, “Oh, the reason that I feel desperate/fruitless/unable to control the whirling dervish of Cup-Half-Empty is really just because I am tired of the work week, the daily grind, the automated way Monday through Thursday feels, etc. etc.”

I think Daylight Savings Time doesn’t help, either. Daylight Savings never ceases to amaze me in how quickly you go from that blissful weekend with the extra hour, to “Oh. It’s 4:30, I’m still at work, and it’s pitch-black outside, so therefore I can no longer focus on anything work-related” ennui.

So anyways.

P.S. - I cannot use the word ennui without thinking of Neville:



******

This weekend is shaping up to be one of those where I'll be running all over the greater Chicagoland area. Tomorrow, I'm headed to my friend Alyssa's baby shower. I have yet to buy a gift. I'm waiting for tonight, because Alyssa plans to use gDiapers, and I have to go to Whole Foods to get them. I love going to Whole Foods, and ogling at all the stuff that is about nine million dollars more expensive than the same exact stuff at Trader Joe's. Steve and I will probably head out of there with the gDiapers PLUS a quarter-pound of some ridiculously overpriced deli salad, just because it was there, for nine million dollars a pound. At least, that's historically how our (infrequent) (because we're poor) Whole Foods trips have gone down.

Sunday, I'm trying on wedding gowns. I can not stress to you enough how much I don't want to do this. A friend of mine is (hopefully) making my dress, and she is a lot more like-minded to what I'm thinking of for my dress than, say, mother f'n David's Bridal. But the idea is that I will go try on some dresses, see what looks great and what looks like poo, and with what I found out we will try to fashion a dress. Blech.

The real reason that we're going to a wedding dress superstore, though, is to look at bridesmaids' dresses. I have five bridesmaids, who are such incredibly different sizes and shapes (One's 5'11"! One's 4'11"!) that it would look totally awful if they were all in the same dress. SO, I am picking a color from a bridal superstore, and they can get whatever style dress they want, as long as it's in that color. I would like to see the colors in person, though, before I go asking my friends to spend money on a dress for me and my "special day." See? When you say it out loud, don't weddings sound like complete crap?

So, yeah.

I guess I should probably do some work now. I have a midterm due on Tuesday, that asks ridiculous questions such as" "What does Social Studies mean to you? What? How do you answer that? I feel like this is high school, and I'm being quizzed about why I want to join the cheerleading team.

6.

Today was a particularly difficult day. Just, you know, when Life is just a little bit too much to take. Do you ever have those days when things just seem totally desperate?

"I'm not doing enough/we're not doing enough/will I ever finish school/will we ever actually have a savings/will Steve get a job/etc., etc., etc."

Ugh.

There is just a huge chunk of Life that I haven't lived yet, and I sit and I worry and I have a hard time calming down and realizing that worrying isn't going to make it any better. I can't control everything. There's just no possible way.

But, man, I really wish I could.

5.

Being part of history is exhausting! All I could do after I got home from work today was put on fat pants and watch Season 2 of "The Golden Girls." Which I've seen all of before, but come on, good shit is good shit.

Anywho, for those who were waiting patiently my Obama rally photos (click on the awesome jumbotron image that would come one when CNN went to commercial):



Alot of the photos are pretty crappy, because when you're witnessing something as momentous as what we witnessed, making sure you take a quality shot isn't exactly on the top of the list. So I spent all night tonight while I was watching the Girls lightening up all the photos of Obama giving his speech, so at least you had a general idea of where we were.

What a great night. What a wonderful thing to witness. Seriously, folks. SERIOUSLY.

4.

OMG, readers. OH EM GEE. What an exciting day. I am equal parts nervous/excited/ready for this fucking thing to be over.

Tonight S. and I are getting on the bus and heading down to the rally. I am a bit nervous that I will get trampled to death when this town BLOWS UP. But I’m willing to take the chance, to be a part of history. All the flare is ready to go, my Sensible Shoes are waiting to be put on (in case there is rioting and I have to run for my life), I stopped drinking liquids after 2 p.m. so I won't have to use the Porta Potties too much....LET'S DO THIS.

Emily posted this on her Flickr page, and it has been my desktop for the last month, so I think it seems appropriate:



Pictures from the rally tomorrow. GO OBAMA! OBAMA, YOU'RE MY BARACK LOBSTER!

3.

Oh my God, day three, and already I'm talking about the weather.

But I have a good reason! It's a record-breaking 70 degrees in Chicago right now. And while it is lovely to feel warm air on my face, and to have the windows open to clear out dog smell (ever since one of my turd-y future brothers-in-law commented that my house smells like dog, I have been completely freaked out that he's right. To the point of asking everyone that comes over if they think he's right. So far he's the only one, but the Seed of Doubt and Self-Consciousness has been planted.), it also seems extraextra depressing, because we are really at the beginning of the interminably long Chicago winter, and this is just some cruel anomaly. So I jubilantly walk the dogs, free of sweaters and scarves and all the other cold-air miscellany, and then I look down at the ground at all the fall leaves and the reality sets in. Lies! I will be in front of the heater for the next six months!

But in more exciting news, Barack is going to be emailing my tickets to the rally tomorrow "by email, between 6 and 7 p.m." It all seems so covert, like I'm in on some big secret with him. Me and 49,999 other people.

I will post photos of the rally tomorrow. Provided I don't get trampled to death.

2.

So, my b.f.f Barack Obama finally got back to me today, letting me know that I have a ticket to his Grant Park Rally Tuesday night, and while a part of me is super-excited to be a part of history and also to wear all my Obama flare, the Always-Assume-the-Worst-My-Cup-Is-Perpetually-Half-Empty part of me is absolutely terrified to be in the midst of either a jubilant victory or a crushing defeat. Either way, Chicago will probably riot. We're sort of like that scene in the "Blues Brothers," where the audience continues to throw bottles at Jake and Ellwood, even though they approve of their rendition of "Stand By Your Man."

Yeah. Exactly like that.

1.

Here we go again! I don't know why I'm signing up for NaBloPoMo again....last year almost killed me. But what the Hell. Let's try it again.