Happy Happy Happy Birthday, Laura!

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I hope it's the best one yet! Call you later.

Love you always,
Traci

Happy Happy Happy Birthday, Erin!

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I'm a day late in blog world, but I was right on time in phone world. I hope you had a beautiful day!

Love you always,
Traci

Done!!!!!

I have officially paid off my car.  Hurray!

Do you ever feel like this?

(I do.)

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out.

I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

-Sylvia Plath

Problem!

Listen, I'm 30 years old and highly capable for the most part. So why am I still suddenly inflicted with the feeling of needing to throw up when I think about calling A Boy? I mean, really. Really. What is this? College? Wait, I had this problem after college too. Seriously, does that ever go away? I've said it before, and I'll say it again, and once again add no offense: I hate all of you for having husbands/boyfriends. Hey! Who wants to call this boy and pretend they're me? Also who wants to clean my room? These are reasonable requests, gals. Pony up.

OK now my fingers are starting to tingle. My body is going numb! If I don't call him I may end up in the emergency room! Then my apartment will never get clean...Augh. That's it! I'm joining the convent.

Why the MTV Movie Awards are stupid

The MTV Movie Awards are stupid because The Runaways, which was a fairly good movie about a band, got exactly one nomination for, of course, Best Kiss. Why? Because it was between Dakota Fanning and Kristen Stewart. So original, MTV, glorifying hot girl-on-girl action. When in reality it wasn't even about that in the movie, it was like a pivotal moment, not some excuse to watch chicks get down. Of course Kristen beat herself when Twilight won for Best Kiss. She also won for Best Female performance in Twilight and while I haven't seen it, I would venture to say that she probably did a better job in The Runaways. But not as good as Dakota Fanning who f***ing rocked and got nada recognition. So as per usual, nice job, MTV, she said with heavy sarcasm. Good luck with that.

P.S. Old Work Crush is dunzo and New Work Crush is way, way cooler and came over for a beer last night. Goooooal!

Why I love a long weekend

I read 3 books and the entire Sunday New York Times between Friday and Monday. I am a word fiend.

I really enjoyed Cassandra and Jane by Jill Pitkeathley and am planning to send it to my sister. She'll love it as much as I did. Thank you, Laura, for the gift!

I breezed through 84, Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff and I think Laura and Kathy would love it, too. It's the most perfect thing for a relaxed Sunday afternoon (and that's all the time it will take you).

Alison, go find The Sky Always Hears Me by Kristin Cronn-Mills. I loved it, and I think you will, too. Plus it's published by Flux, which is local!

Sorry, Erin and Coley, I have no recommendations for you this time.