Ravings of a Textual Deviant

As bad as I am, I’m still here, as the song says.

Life proceeds apace. I’m not doing a terribly good job of getting my yoga-teacher-training reading done ahead of time, but I’m also not feeling the urgency yet. Still, it isn’t as if I haven’t started, and I am sure that I’ll be more motivated as deadlines approach. If nothing else, I’ll have plenty to read on the plane to Oregon this August.

Life is, as always, eventful; a pair of good friends were here for a week, which is always a delight, even if the reason for the visit wasn’t. And we did manage to have some fun, what with a trip to the theater, the nail salon, and a Thai restaurant. Ed is moving out this weekend, and there are a million little details for both of us to attend to all of a sudden. We’re still getting along very well, and I have high hopes of getting through this divorce with both dignity and friendship intact. I keep telling myself that we’ve both done the best we could with what we had, and I believe it.

In other news, two good friends are graduating, one from her psychiatric residency, another from law school—in Louisville, where I am headed for the festivities. Furthermore, I’m trying to find a good weekend this summer (hah!) for a double graduation party, as two singles are beyond unlikely, and we’re all good friends anyway; thank goodness Ed’s birthday is over Memorial Day weekend, or we’d never manage to celebrate it properly this year!

And as if that weren’t enough excitement, my law-school-grad pal is moving up here to stay with me through bar review, bar exam, and subsequent job hunt. In lieu of rent, I’m accepting labor in the form of house-painting and lawn-mowing…and I must say that my pal is an excellent house-painter, so if you need some work of that sort done in the Indy metro area, email me.

And as if all that weren’t enough, I came out of a meeting this afternoon having heard the distinctive splat! of something hitting the fan. It’s not my fan per se, but I’m sure we all know how that sort of thing gets spread around when it hits a rotor at high speed.

And that’s not even touching upon my friends with an imperiled front porch and another who’s breaking off a relationship. Neither of those are my stories to tell, but my heart goes out to all involved.

So, Dear Readers, life is anything but boring, and my failure to blog reflects my inability to keep up with it all more than lack of inclination. Please bear with, and I hope to have plenty to write about soon…not the least of which being the new Summer Replacement for the American Ellipse. (”Coming Soon: Diary of an Elven Mafia Princess.”)

Today, I love the Internet. I got invitations to a birthday party for a friend sent out, and found a flight and hotel room for my grandmother’s birthday party this summer, and checked out prices for flights to Oregon in August, all in under 30 minutes.

 Via email

Me: Please remember to send me your [TPS reports] before you leave today—thanks!

TW: ASCII and you shall receive.

Me: THANCII

TW: Now you’re just being SILLII

It’s a good day.

The weather is gorgeous, two of my favorite friends are in town, my mom can stop being stressed into brain failure because she’s picking up her new car, I’ve got nothing but fun and relaxation planned for the weekend, my home equity line of credit came through, so I’ll be able to pay off my credit cards completely by this time next week, divorce-related proceedings are proceeding apace, and did I mention that the weather is gorgeous?

It’s a good day.

My mom is still looking for a car, and I’ve been sending her such classified ads as I find. One of them said

1996 CADILLAC GOLD 98000 MILES HAS HELL DAMAGE BUT STILL LOOK’S GOOD AND RUN GOOD

So, apparently it’s been to Hell and back, and Hell is at most 49,000 miles from Indianapolis. I’m betting it’s somewhere in New Jersey, as Norway is a tricky drive from here.

And I’m ashamed to admit it was mine, too.

“Master Document Lust”