Welcome to another week, dear friend(s).

A long long long time ago I went to a county fair to hear a young girl sing. Her live show consisted of lots of old-timey country type music, even bluegrass. After the show I decided to pick up her CD and support what I hoped was just one youngster poised to help usher in a better era of country music than the Western World was currently experiencing. I even stood in line to get her to autograph it. The CD, of course, was a huge disappointment, full of bland generic love/loss songs with little imagination. I listened to it once or twice and then put it away.
She wasn't a star then but soon become one. Her youth and her voice won her acclaim. The years went on and rather than help country music rediscover its roots, she helped steer the wagon more and more into the Adult Contemporary realm...bland "lite" schmaltzy "rock" only as country as the twang in the voice.
For some reason (sheer laziness, basically) I never sold the CD or gave it away despite the fact that its presence in a box somewhere wherever I happened to be living at the time ate away at my credibility, even if no one knew it. "It might be worth something someday," I thought, my packrat mentality afraid to let it go, beating out even my indie rock pride. After all, it wasn't released on a major (or even heard-of) label so perhaps to someone somewhere it would be a collector's item.
In preparing for an upcoming wedding-related move, I've been trying to clean out the basement and get rid of all excess. On a whim I put the CD up on eBay. Just for fun, I set a "buy it now" price of $40. Less than two days later, it's sold at $40. If LeAnn Rimes were a major star (or perhaps she is now and I just don't know about it), I'd understand...but I didn't think anyone was listening anymore.
For a couple hours I was pretty proud of myself and happy about $40. Then I looked at things in perspective and realized that this past weekend I spent over $30 just to fill my gas tank.

DPB:
Mr. President:
According to our files, no one has messed with Texas in the past year. Mission Accomplished.

My Launch Player just went from Bright Eyes' "Let's Not Shit Ourselves" to some sort of new French lounge singer (nothing anywhere near Serge Gainsburg)...very unfortunate. Luckily next up was "Big Sur" by The Thrills and "She's a Jar" by Wilco. Then some His Name Is Alive.

Even more unfortunate:
An older gentleman was shot in a grocery store near here where I go once in a while. Apparently some Unidentified White Male (I wish they'd just stay in
their part of town!) was standing behind him at the ATM and just up and shot him.

In other news, our bigtime planning continues. The big wedding goals right now include finding a place and food for a rehearsal dinner, a photographer, and approximately 17 Oompa Loompas. There's also a matter of wedding bands (which is no small deal). I'll need a suit, as well. I have nothing against suits but I look terrible in them. I'm not just taking part in my usual self-deprecation here: I have long arms, which requires that I get a bigger suitcoat, but a small upper body...so I either swim or feel strangled. Recent lack of self-discipline and metabolism dives have brought upon a bit of a gut, only complicating matters further. While I don't mind wearing suits, I absolutely hate trying things on...so this could be one of the biggest difficulties in the road to July 17. The other situation facing us is that of housing. Stacey's locked into a lease through Aug. 31 so either she pays rent through then or pays the expenses related to the landlord finding someone new. It's only an efficiency and there's no way we can fit in there, even for a couple months. I'm already making moves to get the place advertised and inhabited when we need it to be (probably July 1). I don't think finding ourselves a place will be much of a problem (we're already in contact with a few people, figuring out what we want, etc.) but what to do with her current apartment is the huge issue right now. It's also hard to say what might happen with my own roommates in the next couple months...Dean may end up going to Los Angeles soon and Ben's a man of many ideas, one of which may end up working out...so we'll just have to see.
Ugh, yes, boring terrible writing. Sorry.

Today's DPB:
Mr. President:
We plan to fulfill your request to tape episodes of "Method & Red" on Fox this summer. We also noticed that in promotion of this new program, Method Man and Redman have put together a site where you can make your own mix.

One doesn't really understand how much of a genius Axl Rose is until his former GnR bandmates go on to form perhaps the most boring band ever. Well, all right, Axl Rose wrote his share of boring songs, but Velvet Revolver sounds like a Midwestern bar band whose members came together as a result of their love for Pearl Jam and Midwestern barsluts. Their Super Single "Slither" has its moments, but those aren't until you've heard the same chugging riffs enough times that Slash's guitar solo, definitely subpar when compared to his earlier work, sounds absolutely brilliant in comparison (which may well be the point).
Someone already pointed out (on the Vagrant Cafe board) that in the video for "Slither" Scott Weiland apes Iggy Pop to unhealthy lengths -- if only he tried a bit harder to have that Iggy Pop edge in his vocals.

Today's DPB:
Dear Supernintendo Bush:
Principal Rumsfeld formally invites you and others in the White House to join the school staff summer sand volleyball league. Vice Principal Ashcroft requests that this year the women come in appropriate attire -- NOT swimsuits or anything else so revealing.
(note: the "supernintendo" is a Simpsons reference, just in case anyone out there gets really confused.)

I'm not sure why you wrote that either, Kate, but thank you...that was nice and I don't ever mind. Do you have a blog somewhere?
I really need to get working on putting some links up. It's one of my thousand summer projects.

I went and grabbed The River Bends' ...and flows into the sea record that just came out today. I'm an absolute sucker for Denison Witmer. It's neat to hear him backed by a complete band this time around. The Good Life has a new EP out today, as well.
Brian Wilson's new record comes out 22 June. Nowhere too near me has midnight record sales (Omaha as a town all goes to sleep after the 10pm News) and I wish I could pick it up at one of those.

So many other records I want right now that are really only available via mailorder...VBM has a good number, as does Northern Records...I lust for that They Sang As They Slew album.

Besides (but in correlation with) the wedding, the big news and undertaking here is getting ready to move. I'm pretty happy that we're starting the process of finding a place pretty early on and have really good contacts we're working with. A couple of our options are within a couple blocks of where one of both of us live now. I told Stacey if we move into one of those places we could just form a "bucket brigade" style moving chain. We almost could. I've already (two months before I would actually move!) started sorting through the boxes and stored stuff in my basement. Sunday afternoon and evening I got rid of probably 5 or 6 boxes' worth and got a few more in the process of being worked through. Meanwhile my roommate somehow inherited (from friends moving, not a death in the family) a crazy amount of furniture. Stacey and I already had a couple dressers, a vanity, and a bedframe up in my dining room to store for a month or so before we move, but now the addition of all this other stuff has turned the place into some sort of furniture warehouse. At least I don't have to worry about Ben doing without once I move and take most of my stuff with me. We got rid of this couch I've had for a long time...a long nostalgic piece is sure to come out of that, I'm sure, in a later post.

DPB:
Mr. President:
Seriously...it's going to take a lot more than huffing and puffing to blow your house down so please, just relax.

I'd like to take this opportunity to heartily endorse Quaker's Oatmeal Bars. They provide a filling yet healthy yet tasty breakfast. I don't even really like oatmeal in its mushy form but these bars are pretty much perfect.

That's about the best and most interesting thing I have to say this morning. In other words, I have nothing interesting to say. All that pops in my head right now are song lyrics and you can choose to listen to Dylan, Spoon, and The Thrills on your own time.

Daily Presidential Briefing:
You've been invited to a party in Guatamela. The same day you have an important luncheon in South Africa.
What do you do?
Choose your own Adventure.

As has been announced on the Vagrant Cafe Everyday Cafe board, Stacey and I are getting married this summer. This has all been in the works for quite some time, of course, but now seemed like a good time to be more public with it. Our wedding site is right here in case anyone feels like more details. I'm sure a few details will drop in and out of my blog as time goes on.

In other news, here I am now, the graduate. I found out yesterday that to get into grad school all I need is a certain number of credits (which I've already fulfilled) and taking either the MAT or GRE placement test. The issue now is that the class I need to pretty much start off the graduate program starts at 4:15pm. One might ask, "well, you work 8-5 on campus, can't you just take off an hour early once a week and make up your work time a different way?" Unfortunately, when I took this job one of the conditions was specifically that I NOT take any classes before 5. Apparently the person in this position before me abused the kindness of my boss in allowing her to do that once in a while...next thing you know, she was taking classes during work hours and creating a problem. As a result, the issue was addressed during my interview and I agreed to that condition, thinking more at the time about the fact that I needed to eat and pay rent than the fact that perhaps the only class required for the graduate program just happens to start at 4:15. At this point I'm not sure if I should approach my boss about it, thus putting myself in the position of going back on an agreement, or...whatever other options I have. I suppose we'll see what happens. I don't think it's any secret that my education is most important to me right now and I have to do what I need to in order to further that. I definitely don't plan to be a secretary for the rest of my life, that's for sure.

Right now there's a guy at my desk leaning on the bar-like surface and breathing heavily while he fills out some sort of application. That's right, I'm at one of those desks that with a surface at about my eye level that makes me feel like a bartender. This guy isn't really a bad guy (he's in the office for other things now and then) but heavy breathing during routine moments is one of many things that irritate me and I wish he'd taken my suggestion to go sit down at a desk in our office somewhere. The whole thing just makes me uneasy.

In other uneasies, my car's cd player is struggling right now. I've let it relax for a couple days now and hopefully it will miraculously recover. I can't afford to do much else with it right now. Hopefully everything will be fine by my big trip in July. Thank the good Lord for NPR and this station that plays mostly old (as in "classic" and made pre-80s) country and western music.

As of today I am a college graduate.
Everyone thinks I should be excited but I'm really pretty apathetic toward the whole thing.
The graduation ceremony is today but I'm not "walking." I'll just wait for the diploma to come in the mail. I don't really have vacation time to waste. I'm not much for graduations, anyway.
People are amazed that I'm not "walking" or ecstatic about the whole thing. I suppose I'm proud of myself for finally accomplishing it, but really, it's taken me 9 years and gotten me in nasty debt. I'm not proud of that. It's taken me 9 years and gotten me in debt but my life changes absolutely not at all. I'll still have a secretary job. No one values a Bachelor's Degree in General Studies, English major. It's not some sort of formality that officializes my skills or validates anything and lets me get some dream job or at least something much better. On top of that, for me the degree is just something that gets handed to me to recognize the accumulation of a certain number of credits that all line up in the right ways. My eventual goal now is to be an English professor and write. Before I can even think much about graduate school, I still have a good number of classes to take to fill prerequisites and get me ready. I'll feel much more "graduated" when I'm done with my last prerequisite and entering a grad program.

People are sweet, though. The office here threw me a little party yesterday to recognize my graduation. They're a lot more excited about it than I am...maybe it's a huge deal to have an educated secretary. Either way, I was especially amused (that's all I really can be anymore) at one thing in particular. We have a person filling a position in the interim as a part-time gig. She graduated two years ago, lives with her parents and is a department manager at the big expensive department store at one of the malls around here. She wrote on both my card and "signature poster" that was hanging on the wall, "welcome to the 'real world'." I'm sure she meant well (she's often condescending but I don't think she even knows she is) and I'm not offended or anything, but I'm 27 and was living in the "real world" when she was still a freshman in college. I've been living in a squalid townhouse supporting myself since before she graduated college and was helping run a retail store before that. The only reason I apparently wasn't in the "real world" before now (despite the fact that NOTHING changes as a result of my graduation) is that my parents couldn't afford to pay for my school and I had to pay for almost of all of it myself and therefore had to work full-time and take classes on the side. I suppose I'm just enjoying the irony of the whole thing...I should be telling HER about "the real world." You know, the one where you hock stuff to pay the bills and ride the bus for a few weeks in zero degree temperature because your old Chevy Celebrity just won't run and even if it would, the brakes are shot and crunch and grind every time you try to slow down or stop. Anyway, I'm not trying to be angry, the whole thing is just terribly funny and reminds me of why I'm going to keep on taking classes.

One last piece of news: Stacey's brother is coming to hang out here for about a week. Maybe next week...he's not really sure yet. Poor guy needs a vacation. I really dig him. He's pretty much the strong, nearly silent type and has a lot going on in his head. Omaha should be good for him.

Drop me a line in my comment box if you'd like. This is the first weekend I can remember where I didn't have tons going on and I'd love to read what's happening elsewhere.


Today's DPB:
Mr. President:
We have completed the investigation you requested. Our findings conclude that President Taft did indeed put the "bomp" in the "bomp ba bomp ba bomp." Research indicate he probably inserted the "dip" in the "dip da dip da dip," as well, but due to incomplete records, we are unable to confirm this.

I was thinking of beginning today's entry with some mention about miracles and wonders and my final grade of a "B" in AstronomyLab but let's face it, God helps those who help themselves and I worked my tail off in the class. Perhaps my sticking it out and working hard all semester long is more of a miracle than the grade itself.

Sometimes I really wish I had a cocker spaniel.

Michial (hi) called me last night to let me know his radio show was on the air from 11-2. I would've loved to have listened but I was pretty tired (yet not able to sleep, as usual) and on top of that, my internet was down last night.
No internet while working on final paper is a bad thing. This morning I started messing around with things and replaced the cable and it seemed to be working all right after that. That's so boring that even I don't care.

I was thinking earlier today about how I just feel like driving around the country all summer. If I didn't have student loans and other nasty debt, I'd probably be a drifter.

Send me a comment and tell me what album I should check out next. This weekend is the first in a while I'll really be able to do that.

DPB:
Mr. President:
Our recent study confirms that spiking your hair and wearing a Blink 182 tee-shirt may help you win the vote of some young people. Sen. Kerry seems to be courting the Disney Channel vote these days and we really think a slight adjustment in appearance for some of your upcoming appearances on outlets on which the young people will see you could do your campaign a world of good. We did check on the other matter, as well, but apparently "108th & Park" requires guest hosts to be in the entertainment business.

Well, another final is out of the way. Just one more paper and this semester is just one more shelf of mostly sweet memories.
I still need to figure out what I need next and register for fall classes. I'm tempted to just take the semester off. I see negative and positive aspects to that, naturally, but could be forced into taking it off if all the classes I could take fill up in the meantime.
I've not had Indian food in quite some time. I'm craving curry.
Speaking of food, lately Stacey's been making these pies with honey, carob, and tofu. Absolutely delicious. Rich like chocolate but a different taste.

Today's DPB:
Mr. President:
In response to your inquiry late last week: the tingling means it's working.

Welcome to Monday.
I wasn't sure how or if to mention it toward the end of last week, but my dad was in the hospital for a few days. They weren't really sure what was causing his symptoms until late Friday afternoon but now the whole thing is going a lot better. I'll spare the crazy details, but it turns out he has some sort of virus that goes after the spine. He's going to be just fine, this thing apparently clears up after a few weeks. The virus causes his legs and feet and sometimes up past his waist to be numb, tingly, feel "asleep," that sort of thing. They tested to make sure it isn't Multiple Sclerosis and it isn't, thank God. Anyway, my dad being who he is was already up and walking around the hospital with a cane, trying stairs on the sly, and did well enough that he won't have to have therapy. He got out of the hospital Friday night and walked a mile or something already on Saturday. He says it's hard to do that when his feet feel like big blocks of cement, but it's manageable. My mom and Stacey both say that he and I both share this sense of restlessness and not being able to stay sitting down for a while, chock full of nervous energy. Luckily he's used his to exercise quite a bit in the past few years and I hope to do the same soon.

Tonight's the big 20th Century English Lit. final. I already know a big part of the focus will be on TS Eliot's "The Waste Land," so at least I've gotten a bit of studying in. Be sure to check out the poem if you get a chance, but be prepared to read quite a bit of commentary and user notes in order to fully appreciate it and possibly understand it a little bit. I suggest reading it through without any help the first time or two, then going back and reading it with notes a while later. I still have one major paper to finish for Culture of the 60s, as well. I made sure to get my Astronomy final done way early last week even though it wasn't due until today. I just wanted to get it out of the way before the weekend. I haven't found out the grade for the final yet, obviously, but I've gotten barely enough points from everything else to at least pass...so the final will only add to that (hopefully) and maybe even propel me from a C to a B.