Things you should know

1. D.C. is hot. It's really freakin' hot. Like, I was a pool of sweat at 9am walking 5 blocks to my interview hot. I wasn't even wearing my suit jacket.

2. My friend that I met up with is a grand time, and I seriously miss hanging out with her, despite our happiness with our respective lives.

3. There have been two student robberies near my house in the past 10 days. The last one was at 9am. WTF, people? This isn't Detroit.

4. We've started school. And interview/rejection from interview season. I kind of want to die, and it's only been three days.

5. Today (erm, Wednesday) was my birthday. I'm 24.

6. My parents are, despite the issues we had growing up, good people who did their best.

7. I love Boyfriend, and love having him back in town. Even when he snores loudly next to me. Like right now.

8. I have my first actually on-campus interview tomorrow at 1pm. Wish me luck.

9. Friday I'm interviewing for a PI firm. I feel like the Namby Pamby. Only not as swanky. Or hilarious. Seriously. Read him.

10. I don't really have a 10th thing. I just wanted a nice round number to end on.


I promise eventually I'll get back to the semi-regular blogging.

D.C. Redux

Hello dear readers. You'll be glad to know that my cold abated before my interviews. I've got a bit of a scratchy throat still, but I dosed up, rocked the interviews, and spent a (very hot) day sightseeing in the city.

There will be more later, I'm sure. But for now, I am SO TIRED. I've seen a lot for one day in D.C. and had a great (and boozy) dinner at Old Ebbitt Grill.

Oh, and my other-self (I would say other-half, but seriously, we're the SAME PERSON) came up to D.C. to see her cousin, and spent the afternoon with us. Considering she's in Richmond and I'm in Pittsburgh, this was a much needed reunion, and a grand old time.

But now, my buzz is wearing off, and I'm gross from the day. It's time to get to shower and sleep.

Nothing to see here

I'll post about being home in the heartland soon.

But I think I managed to catch a summer cold. That, or I'm more allergic to my mom's cats than I thought, and my post-nasal drip has caused me to develop a sore throat and swollen glands.

Awesome.

Oh, and did I mention I have the first round of job interviews in D.C. on Friday?

Double Awesome.

Home to the land of corn

Wow, Readers. Thanks so much for all the love on the MIL post. I've recovered nicely, and it's in part thanks to your lovely support (and Maggie, you will hear ALL about it on Thursday, do not worry).

It may be quiet around here for the next week or so. Tomorrow morning (er, this morning? past midnight?) Boyfriend and I are headed to the Hoosier state to see my family and friends, and just generally have a little bit of a vacation from life here in the 'burgh before school starts. While I was super glad to leave Indiana when I did, I'm excited to go back. I love Indy ... I just couldn't live there anymore. Make sense to any of you out there?

Anyway, the last two times I've been back have been great, but I've missed one thing: Corn. At Christmas the corn fields were snowed over, and in March there was still no corn towering in the fields along the interstate. But now it is early August, and when I drive home there will be rows and rows of tall corn stalks waiting to greet me. There's something really comforting about that.

Also comforting is the big, sunny sky that awaits me. See, here in the 'burgh, we get a lot of cloudy days because of the rivers. When it's sunny it's gorgeous, but for most of the year it is not sunny. And the hills and buildings block the view of the horizon and the sky, whether it is blue or gray. But Indiana is flat, flat, flat, and the sky is huge. You can see literally for miles as you drive past fields on the interstate. It's very American Pastoral.

When I first moved here, I was homesick for those things. I still am, occasionally, but now the city seems like the most natural way to live. It always has, on some level. But I would be lying if I said that I wasn't excited to see wide open spaces and farms again. From time to time I need to look around me and see nothing for miles but a few farmhouses and lots of corn and soybeans. Sometimes I need to walk down the street in the Circle City. Where people hold open doors and smile and let you into traffic. Where Peyton Manning is a god, and no one wants to hear the damn Steeler theme song.

And that's exactly what I'm gonna do. So, it may be quiet around here. But I promise I'll be back.

Hold down the fort while I'm gone, OK?

Recap of the Weekend

Times Five Cried: 1
Times Boyfriend's Mom called Five fat: 3
Times Boyfriend's Mom called Boyfriend fat: 2
Times Five's housekeeping was impugned: 8
Times Boyfriend's Mom made judgmental or insulting comments: infinity

There are lots of stories. Just ... lots. Stories of Fox News being on in my living room despite her knowing we're of a Democratic persuasion around here. Being lectured about religion. Having Jesus or "she's a good church girl" being dropped into conversation. Losing her at the Cathedral of Learning b/c she can't figure out which door she went into when she went to the bathroom. Being told we're fat. Being told I'm the reason for the apocalypse.

The truth is, it was better than I expected, but just barely. Though, on Sunday we almost packed her up and took her home due to a mean comment she made about me, my eating habits, and a vinaigrette salad dressing. Boyfriend was awesome about handling the situation, and eventually it leveled off enough that she was allowed to stay until Monday morning as planned.

I did do a happy dance when she left this morning. And I DID make myself a screwdriver for brunch.

And she won't be coming back for at least a year.

Pity Party of One

I'm ready for Boyfriend's mom to leave.

There, I said it.

More on that after the trip is over and I've calmed down some. But let's just say ... it's not been Super! Fun! Times!

Mostly though, I hate money. I hate that I don't have it when I need it, and that my student loan won't come in for about 2 weeks. I hate being in debt. I hate borrowing for law school.

I hate hate hate all of it. I hate that I've been the one paying for stuff this summer. I know it's unavoidable, but I. Hate. Money.

I hate bills. Hate. Hate. Hate.

I hate health insurance, and how I'm going from great insurance to nearly nothing.

I hate it.

But 500 Days of Summer was a good movie.

I want to go home to Indiana for a while.

Perfect end to the perfect week ... NOT.

I'll be radio silent for most of this weekend, most likely. You see, after the MAGNIFICENT week here in the 'burgh, Boyfriend's mom is coming for the weekend.

For our first meeting.

She will be staying in our guest room. In my old bed.

And she'll be here in approximately .... any minute now.



... you think it's in poor taste to throw myself off the balcony?

I hate this week.

I came home from writing cover letters of doom all day and saw this on the news:

http://www.cnn.com/2009/US/08/04/pennsylvania.gym.shooting/

That's 25 minutes from my house.

I watched some of the coverage. Most heartwrenching was the meathead about my age who was working out in the weight room next door. After it was all over, he carried one of the girls outside. She had been shot in the thigh. He cried. From what I could piece together she bled out.

I have lost my faith in humanity.

This city doesn't need more of this. Not long ago, we had to deal with this shooting of three of our police officers: http://www.cnn.com/2009/CRIME/04/04/pittsburgh.officers.shot/index.html

It was only four months ago.

This week needs to be over. And people need to be human fucking beings and not do this to each other.

I don't believe in Hell. But I hope sincerely that I am wrong, and that tonight's shooter (who committed suicide) is roasting nicely there.

My thoughts are with the victims and their families.

Too Angry to Sleep

Ok. It's 3am. I'm not tired. I'm not even close to being tired. Because I am too angry to be tired.

I was browsing Facebook about 2 hours ago, and noticed that my friend, we'll call him Ben, had posted a link on his wall. I followed, and discovered that it was an article written by a professor at his college. Not only did I discover from this article that my friend had been severely beaten for being gay in the South, but I learned that the professor thought this was A-OK. I would post the article, but 1. I don't want to link to it to give it more traffic and 2. it uses my friend's name, and he deserves more privacy than that.

I immediately sent my friend a message, and ... it was even worse than I thought. He can't remember anything about that night because he was beaten so severely that he lost consciousness and STOPPED BREATHING at the scene. Now, he has to be treated by a neulogist and a neuropsychologist because his multiple concussions in the cerebral and cerebellal regions of his brain have left him with severe problems. Among the most devastating is that my dear sweet friend is having issues making the two hemispheres of his brain communicate.

Because he can't remember anything, the justice system can't help him.

I seriously think I may throw up. "Ben" is seriously one of the sweetest and most unassuming people I know. And while he's very "out," he's aware that he lives in the South and always took precautions, and tried to get along with everyone. For the most part, he didn't have any problems. And now, he has to see two specialists because some redneck thought he was justified in beating the shit out of him. Just because Ben is different than that particular neanderthal.

I'm GLAD he's different. I'm so proud of my friend, for standing up for himself, and for continuing on. For continuing to laugh and love life. For not letting this consume him like it's already consuming me.

And before I get any super conservative trolls on here: Yes. I am liberal. I'm very socially liberal. I don't think being gay is wrong, or a sin, or a choice. I think it's who my friend is. You are more than welcome to disagree with me. You're entitled to your opinion, just like I am mine. And my beef in this post isn't with people who disagree with me that gays should be given the right to marry, or any other political issue. My beef is with people who think it's OK to beat someone else for being different, for any reason. My issue is with anyone who thinks that violence is excusable.

Because, even if you don't agree that being gay isn't a sin or a choice, allowing this kind of violence in our society is terrifying. If someone can beat Ben because he's gay, then what's stopping someone else from targeting another group? Women? Left-handers? The overweight? I fall into all those categories. And the same religious reasons that people use to justify or excuse being gay people was used to justify keeping women, left-handers, and minorities down.

I feel lucky and proud to have been born in this country, where teachers no longer make lefties like me write with our right hands. Where women can go to law school and be outspoken and do great things. Where there is generally room for people on both sides of any debate to co-exist without too much turmoil. But this ... this kind of hate? I'm not proud that my country is capable of that.

My visit to the promised land

As you may have already read over at my should-have-been sister's blog, I visited the holy grail for the plus-sized woman, Banana Republic. I'd never actually been INSIDE one before because ... well, I didn't fit in the size 14 clothes that are the top of their in-store sizes. Sure, I could have bought from them online ... but it's not the same. Not the same at all.

So yesterday, I went, armed with my 30% off Friends and Family coupon. And I walked out ... with this. And this shirt to go under it, only in a very pale pink.

And I may or may not have teared up a little in the dressing room. Just a little.

What? I'm a girl.

Random Over-Shares

Hello Readers. In my little blurb, I promise you over-shares, and I haven't really been delivering. So, since I'm still not tired at 1:30, I figured I'd give you some, in the form of a list.

1. I cannot watch Boy Meets World anymore. It used to be one of the things I would watch in reruns when it was on. And then this really screwed up guy that I had this on again off again thing with for waaaaaaay too long all through childhood and (here's the problem) college and I ended things for good. I cut him out of my life. Well, a mutual friend gave him my new email address, and in his apology for things not working out and his desire to at least talk to me once in a while, he said that when one of the girls he'd been out with asked him about his exes, he said that he always thought that I was "the Topanga to his Cory." I cried. I had seven years of romantic feelings tied up in that boy, and despite how great he had been in high school, he had turned into a lecherous, drunken mess in college. Anyway, he laid that corny line on me (and the poor girl he was dating). We talk occasionally via IM, since he lives 2,000ish miles away. But I can't watch the show anymore.

2. There's one sound that will always remind me of my mother. It's the sound that crumpled but still crisp bills make when you straighten them or rub them past each other in your wallet. Backstory: when I was a kid, my mom and I didn't get along. We really only get along now (if you can call it that) b/c I live 400 miles from her. It's a really, really long story. But anyway, one of the things we both loved was a good fountain Diet Coke. And pretty much every time we'd have to go shopping for school clothes up until my last prom dress purchase, we would stop by a drive-thru on the way home and get Diet Cokes. My mom doesn't organize her money in her wallet, and instead kind of wads it up in there, so she has to straighten it out to pay for something. It's a pretty distinctive noise. Anyway, today I was buying a Diet Coke at a drive thru after my appointment (yes yes aspertame, it was a stressful day!), and I paid with a crumpled bill. As I straightened it, I instantly thought of all those times with my mom. They're probably some of the best memories I have of her, actually.

3. I've had one marriage proposal, and one near-proposal. Both were semi-traumatic.

4. Relatedly, starting in middle school I had nightmares about getting married. Faceless grooms, running away before the ceremony, after the ceremony, my parents not approving and me getting married in secret, then regretting it immensely. These began before either proposal. I'm not really sure what triggered them, save maybe the understanding that marriage didn't always work out well (read: my parents, who are still unhappily married). Either way, they stopped about halfway through college.

I think that's all for tonight, as I'm starting to get sleepy. Anyone dig the overshares? Or would you rather I just do my normal thing with no random deviations?