Yes, the title's from a Jimmy Buffet lyric.  Any problem?

Work is work.  NCDAN is trying to plan a conference in Raleigh next month.  Michael and I got a little testy with each other a week or two ago, but no harm no foul.  Trying to coordinate who pays for what, who's on the list, what we need from the hotel, people not sharing what they know and getting aggravated when other people get pushy for "We need this info!" kind of stuff.  It probably would have been better if it weren't for the lousy timing of United Way questions and the NCDAN quarterly report all due in the same three days--Lydia was freaking out.  Not lashing out unspooling venting on us freaking out, but really nervous and stressed.  That's not cool, because we need Lydia and I felt guilty about burdening her with one more thing.  But things are better for now.  I'm trying to figure out how to "Whatever" my way through so I can do what I need to and just breathe with the stuff I can't help.  I'm starting to do the travel training presentations.  I don't mind those so much, I just hope I don't have to train or assess.  It's horrible, but I'm not good with consumers.  I'm support staff, let me dow hat I'm good at and don't put me in a position where I'd mess people up. 

Zach decided on ECU for college.  Mom's plantar fasciatis is flaring up so she's limping everywhere.  I'm still fighting mood swings. 

Yesterday I was sitting in the living room, perfectly content (for once) to be reading one of the Redwall books, and Mom kept coming in.  Finally she just sat down and said she just wanted to chat. 
"OK?" 
"You've been awful quiet lately, are you OK?"
"I'm fine."  Sometimes I like to be quiet, I haven't had anything to say, and I'm trying to read!  I did not say, because that's the sort of thing that she'd take offense over.
Pause.  "Anything bothering you?"
"Same crap that's been going on for six months, nothing new, I'm fine."  No such luck, she stayed put and kept talking about Zachand Anthony's graduation.  Then Dad came in.  At least it didn't turn into a "Honey, we're worried about you" merry-go-round, but that's partly because I managed to get Mom reminiscing about graduations and wedding horror stories and Grandma.  I just wound up in an irritable mood, because all I wanted was to be left alone with a book.

I wouldn't have half as hard a time if it was just me and my parents.  Zach and I have the wrong personalities to spend more than a couple weeks together.  We were doing OK during college, when I was just home on vacations and such, but we do not need to live together.  Well, we could probably handle even that if it weren't for the fact that the snotty little dipshit shaved with MY razor, trims his nails with MY clippers and leaves the clippings in MY sink, doesn't flush the toilet, mess like that.  I have tried asking him in polite, non-accusatory ways to please not do that, get a "Yeah, OK," and he continues to do it.  Plus there's just basic 18 year old boy and 23 year old older sister who really don't want to have much to do with each other in the first place.  I know it's horrible, but that's just how we turned out.  For someone who loves the idea of a warm, cozy family I can be downright cold-hearted towards the brother.  I don't like feeling that way, but at the same time I can't change my emotions.  We'll be much better when we can go our separate ways and limit visits to holidays. 

Anything exciting...I got nothin'.  Been reading a lot.  I've lost weight so I can now wear the jeans I couldn't fit in back in the fall (huzzah!).  Speech therapy is slowly coming along, though I'm afraid we'll have to apply for insurance approval for more sessions.Wednesday was a bad session.  Roper had a bunch of trouble the other week.  Dad took it in and I had to have a new timing belt, new brake pads (the previous workers didn't use Honda pads so they didn't fit right and caused some wear), ball bearings, pumps, etc.  Dad insists that he'll cover it because he feels responsible to provide a safe, functional car for me to use.  I basically forced him to accept a little extra from the broken headlight to help with the cost.

I have to get a haircut today, it's been three months and it needs work.  Probably go look for work-type clothes I can wear.  We're casual, but I should probably have more than jeans and one pair of khakis.  And then tonight is the conclusion of "Little Dorrit" and a new "Breaking Bad."  Masterpiece Theatre and meth dealers make for a loopy Sunday night.

So apparently I still can't post a link.  Sorry.

Dad took the car in yesterday and today.  Fixed the front, wipers work.  The body shop told him that they don't do sound systems, unless it's to yank an old one out and install a new one for $700.  That's out, but they gave him the name and address of a place that specializes in stereos.  So he took it in today while I was at the Marketing workshop.  My options are:

1) Install a replacement 6-CD changer in the trunk for a little less than $170, 90-day warranty.

2) Install a new system--single disc, radio, and iPod hookup that also charges iPod when plugged in--for around $200.

I'm torn.  I really like having the 6-disc setup.  Pick 6 CDs, put 'em in the trunk, and you control from the dashboard.  No fumbling with hunting for the disc or ejecting or crap like that, just mash a button.  When I have options I get ADD--on my iPod or iTunes on my computer I'll listen to about two and half songs and think Nope, I want somethign else.  Oooh, here's something.  What album was that song on?  I don't want to be that easily distracted when I'm driving.  I also don't want to have to carry my iPod around all the time, or forget and leave it in the car screaming "Steal me!" to anybody who glances in the window.

However, I'm afraid that if I get the 6-CD set I won't be able to have it repaired in the future, or it'll get obsolete, and mess like that.  The new fancy unit is supposed to be a good model, a longer warranty, and it'll should be easily understood if problems arise in the future.  It's a technological step up for not that much more money.  Good grief, why did a perfect setup have to poop out on me?

Oh, voice diagnosis.  Went in on Monday.  Apparently it's a combination of stress/tension and acid reflux.  Not heartburn indigestion reflux, which apparnelty tends to happen to older, overweight people.  I have the kind of reflux that shoots up past the heartburn zone and the acid goes up to the larynx and irritates the voicebox.  So for this I have to modify my diet: no caffeine (even "decaf") still has traces, no carbonation, no citrus, no tomatos, no peppermint (all of those are acidic), no onion/garlic, no chocolate, no tea, no coffee.  Not that I can never eat them ever again, but avoid and limit as much as possible.  So apparently I have to live on white rice for the rest of my life.

Most normal tension/compression is the sides squeexing in.  In my case it's the jaw muscles and back of the tongue/esophagus pressing down/forward, compressing my voice box.  It was very noticeable in just a few minutes with the scope on Monday, so lord knows what it's like all day long.  Eliminate or relieve stress is the best advice--wanna get me a frikkin' apartment then?!?!?!?!

There's also a weird gap.  Normally there's a little space at the top of your vocal folds when they're resting closed.  Mine have a gap almost a thrid fo the way down where they don't meet.  So it's almost like an air leak--not enough air flows down when I breathe or comes out when I try to talk or sing, so instead of working witht he natural flow my muscles kick in to try to force/compensate.  That would be the fatigue.

So once I get prior authorization from the insurance I start speech therapy, which in my case will apparently focus on breathing and relaxation techniques.  Oh yippee.  Hopefully I'll be able to start at the beginning of March, fingers crossed, but Lord knows how long it'll take.

[url=http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28900351/] Grammar Snobs Taking Control[/url]  To how many of my friends does this apply?

This is so me.  I used to be more laid back and just smile to myself.  Everybody has typos and slips.  But lately I get downright testy.  The whole "it's something we can control when we're stressed out" is incredibly likely for me.  I think part of it is the fact that I'm supposed to keep Michael's emails legible.  He has ADHD and some sort of learning disorder (maybe dyslexia, but I haven't actually heard), so his spelling and grammar are hit and miss, usually miss.  The workbooks for the Easter Seals training in Tampa were so godawful I spent a good chunk of the time correcting them.  I actually corrected something on the evaluation sheet to turn in--after I commented about how distracting the mistakes were--before I could stop myself.  So they probably think I'm an anal-retentive bitch.  The first fifty percent is true (and 100% at times) but if it's systemic, I can't take you seriously.

Not that I know many of the grammar rules.  I've read enough to know what looks right or wrong, but I never learned the structure beyond noun-verb, subject-predicate, stick to one tense and keep your singular/plural agreement.  (I know the rule about ending a sentence with a preposition but I don't know what a preposition is.)  So I can't say WHY something is wrong and I'm not sure of my commas, which leaves me nervous about sticking my foot in my mouth.  I spend my time at the front desk reading Strunk and White and grammar guides to try to improve myself.  That is so sad.

I will defend myself with this qualification: I limit my corrective instincts to formal or professional writing.  I may roll my eyes at somebody's blog or Facebook message, but I won't fuss.  I certainly don't point stuff out when people are chatting in informal conversation--that's just mean and rude.  (Lord knows I got so many southernisms I would drive a grammar freak to distraction.)  But if it's a resume, a formal presentation, flyers to distribute to consumers, or emailing members of our board, then I get snappish.  Why should they trust us to do important work if we can't spell correctly or express our views without causing confusion?

All of this is to say that if you catch a slip, point it out.  Be nice (please!), but I would appreciate it.

Well, this'll teach me to get aggravated at friends who don't obsessively update...

This has been an incredibly long and dreary week.  Monday I got clipped in a hit-and-run in the line to get onto Albemarle road at 5:10 PM.  Long story short, other driver took off, I got the license plate, but when I got home and called the non-emergency police number to report I was told I had to go back to the scene of the accident and call 911 for the police to file the report.  Tuesday morning I did that, and the tag I saw/wrote down is not registered to the SUV that hit me.   Damage isn't as bad as it sounded, cracked headlight (although I still have light) and scratches, but still.

Wednesday was a snow day.  Not nearly as pretty as the snow we had on Inauguration Day (when I had to leave for frikkin' Tampa) but enough to get work and schools closed.  Spent the day on the computer--should have watched movies when I had the house to myself, but oh well.  Opened a letter formt he bank to discover that the check Joe wrote me for babysitting last month bounced, so not only do I not have the money in my account, they charged me for the returned check fee.  Lovely.  Called and left messages for them.

Thursday--for once Joe actually returned my call, and the good news is they should bring me cash this weekend.  We also talked about Chorale, and I'm out for the season.  More below.  I gradually relaxed and said "Joe, I'm sorry to be naggy or whatever, it's been a bad week.  I got clipped in a hit and run Monday--" "What?!?!  Are you OK?!"  I wanted to vent, I wasn't (consciously) playing for sympathy or a guilt trip, but it was reassuring to actually hear a friend ask.  

The day itself was rotten, because we were trying to figure out the NCDAN listserve that's messed up and incredibly unfriendly.  On top of that a pain-in-the-ass consumer just rolled in to "volunteer," and claimed that Michael had emailed him to tell him to show up for a meeting that night.  (Please, no meetings that day and Michael doesn't know this guy from Adam's housecat.)  Now I know we should be grateful for volunteers, but honestly, call and schedule a time so we can have stuff ready for them.  This guy just gets snippy and self-righteous when you don't tell him what he wants to hear and likes to be all weight-of-the-world.  So after talking to Julia and Michael and Lydia I got stuck having to tell this guy to come back tomorrow, around 1:30 or so.  "OK, I just wanna know the time, because I work out at the Y."  Like I need to know this.  More mess with the listserve and superadministrators and general argh.

Today--Friday, thank god, and not as bad.  Probably because we knew it would all be over soon.  Brief meeting to swap notes and ideas after Tampa, taped together spreadsheets.  Lunch with Julia and one of her good friends to get all caught up on non-profit gossip and how many ways to screw up this week.  PIA Consumer actually came in a good half hour BEFORE he was supposed to, luckily I was still at lunch so by the time I got back Lydia had already tucked him in the empty office.  Messed around a while, had to listen to Consumer's "Well, I don't mind doing this..." in a tone that showed he clearly did, then babble something about computers and UNCC and god knows what that wasn't relevant.  Fortunately at the end of the afternoon we were lightening up a bit.  I'll skin Michael for scheduling a teleconference at 4:00 on a Friday afternoon, but luckily the board president stopped it before 5:00.

I got a sign name today!  (Sign name:  instead of finger-spelling a name out all the time, deaf culture often uses sign names.  Usually it's the finger-spelling position of the first letter, and then hold that shape as you sign something for a special trait or feature.)  It's very difficult to explain the concept of "info wench" in English, let alone sign, so that was out.  As we laughed about my official job being to nag Michael til he does what he's supposed to, we thought "That's It!"  So for my sign name it's an "M" shape on the right hand making the "nag" motion on my left pointer finger.  Easier to show than describe.  And yes, I do need a sign name because Michael's wife is deaf and he talks about the people at the office. 

And the whole voice thing.  So I was scheduled for a speech evaluation on the 29th.  Something had triggered the new insurance to fuss about pre-existing conditions, but I have until the end of February.  Anyways, I get home from Raleigh on the 28th around 7:15, long after the office closed, and there's a message that I need to call the Speech Swallowing center before my appointment.  First thing morning of the 29th I call, only to discover that because it's possibly pre-existing insurance won't pay for it.  So we reschedule for February the 16th and I go nuts waiting for the certificates of credible coverage to come in.  Finally faxed them Monday, today the insurance said it's in the system and I should be approved either today or early next week.  Fingers crossed!

Anyways, chorale.  Since Joe called back about the check I figured it was now or never to actually discuss Chorale.  I won't be ready on March 14th, that's for sure.  The Spring "Hooray for Hollywood" is on Zach's graduation weekend; I know for sure I'd miss the Friday show for Providence ceremony even if I can sing at that point.  So Joe recommended I just forget it for this semester and concentrate on getting healthy again, and I'm relieved to do that.  Now I gotta find some way to get out of the house, but honestly I wasn't enjoying it much, and I'd have to think about joining up again in the fall.  I'll worry about that later; for now I just want to know what the hell is the matter with my vocal cords and how to fix it.

God, I'm tired.  I probably need to get the headlight fixed this weekend.  And I was hoping to eventually save up and get the CD player working again. 

Basic status, I still like the job, although it has its not-so-fun side, and I'm about to go crazy in the family house.  So what else is new?

Christmas was sort of low key this year.  I hated not being able to sing Christmas carols, so all through the service I had this weird detached feeling of being separated from everything else going on around me.  Nasty mood swings even on Christmas night, which gets way not fun way quick.   Big family Christmas didn't happen until last weekend based on schedules and whatnot, and I have several duplicates I have to take back to the stores this weekend.  

Showed up for the first Chorale practice, figured I'd keep my hand in in case I ever do get my voice back.  But I doubt I'll be ready for our March concert, and the spring "Hooray for Hollywood" thing is the weekend of Zach's graduation.  I hate to bail out--and I hate to lose my one steady night out of the house--but I'm pretty useless.  Besides, Joe didn't tell me they're a wanna-be show choir, and if the Christmas cutesy is any indication than our movie music concert "with sets and costumes and props" is going to be just painful.  Joe actually suggested I just take a semester off of vocal stuff to focus on resting and getting better: "We'd love to have you but there's no need for you to waste your time."  OK, big thing is I don't want to lose my chances to chat with Joe and see how Camille and the boys are doing--aside from loving Joe as a director (most of the time) I don't have many friends in town so I cling to whoever's around.  We'll see.  I have my voice evaluation on the 29th, so I'll postpone any decisions until after I get a diagnosis/treatment plan.

Work is going.  Sat in on 9 hours worth of meetings in Burlington on Thursday, so I get a sense of what certain state councils do as opposed to what they're supposed to do, and met all Julia's counterparts to be introduced as Michael's assistant.  I have to go to Tampa for training this week (fly down Tuesday, get back Friday night, missing the inauguration grumble grumble), transportation makes me die inside but if that's what they pay me for that's what I do.  NCDAN is doing a rally in Raleigh on the 28th.  Apparently they decided to show up on the first day of the legislature to show presence and "force to be reckoned with," and then said "Yeah we'll pick issues to go with that."  (As opposed to picking our topics and planning based on what we can do, which would be common sense, but apparently that doesn't apply any more.)  So they said "Medicaid!" and realised that was big and vague, so now "the Mental Hospitals!"  I've spent some time this week trying to find horror stories so we know why we don't like the state psychiatric hospitals and what we want to change.  Let me tell you, that'll put you in a funk.  The mildest thing I saw in the past couple years' reports was not checking to see if the nurses had licenses and certification.  I've read about patients going missing, medication screwups, patient suicides, improper emergency responses, you name it.  Mom promised to teach me to drink scotch after this.  At least I earned enough flex time in Burlington that I don't have to use up PTO on my evaluation.

Mood swings haven't been as bad lately, but I find myself overreacting unable to control myself.  Earlier this week I found out Zach had been using my razor to shave in the shower (they weren't my hairs gumming up the works) and I got so mad I couldn't see straight.  Charlotte rent is awful, so unless Kevin can find a way to sneak me in as low-income housing I need a roommate for any decent apartment.  So the moving out is in limbo, and I'm slowly but surely losing my mind.

Will let you know if anything interesting happens.

Love and hugs to everyone, wherever you are.  I hope people get a fun and meaningful holiday--whether by sea or mountains or villages or cities or church or family.  I wish we could all meet up.  Until then, Merry Christmas!

I don't know how people do it.  I mean, I'm barely responsible for anything and I'm annoyed at the lack of time to shop, wrap, and relax.  And I'm in a good, flexible office where I earn Personal Time Off during my first month!  I earn 16 hours a month (2 days) so I took Friday off to shop and run errands and I'll take Tuesday off for whatever, and start clean in January.

I know this is long.  Skim if you want to, but make sure you read about the office party, in which I put out a propane fire and played Name that Meat.

The concert went better than I expected.  I mean, rehearsals were so awful I had to fight back tears driving down to CP Saturday morning.  But WDAV played an interview with Miss Holland about Charlotte Children's Choir, so that was happy memories.  Spent the first two hours stringing snowflakes, then during rehearsal I had to keep mopping up the puddle where the snowflake machine was leaking so the dancers wouldn't slip and fall.  (Luckily they fixed it before the concert.)  Dinner was a potluck.  People liked my Chick-fil-A tea, and all the food was good.  We just about licked the pot clean for Evans Lalas's clam chowder.  Ran up and down the stairs a bunch to relay messages from lobby to dressing room, gave the military guys instructions.  Hung out in the wings during the concert itself, except for the whole veterans "Stop at the light, form a line, go" and pictures at intermission.  Ran flowers out to Joe and Regina after "Twelve Days."  The guys were still horribly off-key during the barbershop section, but I think people thought it was an intentional cutesy gimmick, so they got away with it.  Clean up went quick, chatted with Joe afterwards (he was in a good mood), got home about 11:20 that night.

The next day was the children's nativity at church, and it turns out Benjamin and Samuel were at the 11:00.  So I slept in and went to the late service where I sat down front to watch Julia interpret.  (I picked up "Jesus," "angel," "birth," "God," and "Noel".)  Had a tickle fight with Benjamin in the gym afterwards.

Work was very tame this week.  All the days we meant to do 704 stuff kept coming up.  Wednesday was our Christmas party, so Michael was in.  We spent the morning rearranging our office, ran to Office Depot for an ethernet cord, and now it's a better set-up.  I need to boost up the table for papers so I don't hurt myself trying to read with a crooked neck, but I don't have my back to the door and the computer/phone is a much better now. 

The big highlight was supposed to be a deep-fried turkey.  We were already late getting started--and Peggy broke my Mom's casserole dish when she put it directly on a burner--but finally we had everything.  Julia and Michael got the propane tank and hose working, set it up to the burner, and we put the oil on.  "Let me get a jacket and I'll stay out here so we don't leave an unattended flame," I suggested as we all scattered.  Julia laughed that my Daddy would be so proud of me, and we did.  So I'm outside by myself, pacing around, and I notice a flame licking around the side of the pot.  That's odd, I thought, and went around to discover that the hose was on fire.  Shoot!  I ran to the back door and yelled down the hall "The hose is on fire!", then I got back and turned off the propane feed--I probably should have done that first, but my biggest concern was letting people know.  By that point Kevin came and managed to blow out the flames left on the hose.  Apparently Julia and Michael didn't stretch the hose out enough, so it stayed in contact with the hot metal and caught fire.  Whatever, no harm done, but no turkey either.

Whatever.  Eventually we ate, little bits of a lot of good stuff.  Kevin fried up a bunch of the stuff he hunted back in Louisiana so we got plates with several nuggets on it to play Name that Meat.  I got squirrel and rabbit in the first round, missed the bird (I said pigeon, it was dove or something).  We did have pieces of something not-fried that was pretty good.  Bear turns out to taste like a plain old pot roast or beef stew type thing.  Fish was great.  While I didn't win, Kevin had an extra prize of a coupon book his daughter had brought home ("all the fith graders gotta buy these fo twenny dollas") so I got that for not letting the building burn down.  Identify smell, a bunch of spices and a nasty banana, Christmas Story trivia (I won, got a mug), Charades and Christmas SOng pictionary.  Oh it was loud and rowdy and fun.  Even got a bonus at the end of the day, huzzah!

From there I had to race home and change into my Chorale twinset to go to the senior community in Fort Mill--they paid CHorale to come sing, and we need money.  Much tamer than the concert, is was just the singers and the piano, so I passed out programs and turned pages for Regina.  Personally I think we should have done that before the real concert as a warm-up, but it went well and the residents liked us.

Friday I took off to do some Christmas shopping.  In the morning I stayed in to watch a Nutcracker DVD I ordered.  Same people who did Swan Lake I liked, and they were supposed to have played witht he storyline some.  In this version Marie clings to the Nutcracker because it's like a toy from the night her parents were abducted by the revolutionaries and Drosselmayer is trying to work some healing.  First half she confronts her memories, second half she's reunited with her mother and then there's no explanation whatsoever for the Land of Sweets.  It would have helped if we had a widescreen TV, since that's how they filmed the show, but the sound was great and some decent dance highlights.  Otherwise it was a long errand afternoon, as was Saturday.

Good news is my shopping is all done.  Bad news is I don't know how I'm going to get the privacy and space to wrap stuff for Mom, Dad, and Zach.  Grandma comes on Tuesday so she won't be alone on Christmas Eve/Day.  Mom's inviting people over for Christmas dinner, which was alright last year but I'd really be happier if Grandma and Jo Ann weren't here.  (That's awful, isn't it?  I like to keep it immediate family, but I know better than to whine.)  Mom got stuck reading a narration at Chuck E Church on Christmas Eve.  Lucianis come just to hang out on the weekend--actual family Christmas gift exchange with aunts and cousins has to wait til January because of Bill and Dorothy not being able to travel.  So the next couple days will be busy, but with cookies and Christmas movies and music it's feeling fun now.  I just wish it would stay cold.

Quiet week at work.  Well, I lied to the Feds (the office pseudonym is Monica Walker, which I used for this, but Julia told me I can pick my own whenever I want), conducted a mock interview, got all sorts of evidence that Cabarrus County courts are even more screwed up than we thought, read The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, things like that.  Today I got approved for a three-day training seminar in Tampa next month so I booked my hotel room.  Wow, I'm travelling for business.  Does this make me a grown-up?

Made the executive decision NOT to sing on the 13th.  While my singing is a little better (I could get through a couple stanzas of easy hymns this past Sunday) it's not pretty, and I still have that weird tension/tightness when I speak.  Soon as the new insurance kicks in I gotta go back to the ENT.  So I emailed Joe (of course he didn't respond) and he seemed pretty apathetic on Tuesday and told me to talk to Renee.  I'm not bailing, I'll show up and do the all-day thing for set-up, probably collect USO toys in the lobby, mess like that.  I hate the principle that I can't sing, but I'm so cotton-pickin' relieved to not do this set.  Besides the afore-mentioned "Twelve Days" they're going for general cutesy, adding choreography to the lighter pieces in the second half.   There is no way on earth I could get through that.

This weekend is nuts.  Tomorrow is Walk Through Bethlehem, where church converts the gym and courtyard so people can visit the shops, talk to shepherds and centurions, and visit the stable.  I haven't been since high school, so I really want to see what they've done.  It's also the night where Chorale is singing carols at the ice-rink.  So it looks like it'll be Bethlehem when it opens around 2:00 and rush downtown to be at the rink at 6:00.  Again, not singing, but I want to be there.  Moral support, hand out flyers, stuff like that.  Besides, Joe said Camille and the boys would be down there, and I haven't seen them since September. 

Sunday the church choir does their Christmas program.  No idea what music, but from what people have said the new music director is a good guy.  I think we're also supposed to get our Christmas tree that day, we'll see.  Oddly enough I don't feel Christmassy yet, this whole no-Christmas Break thing is screwing with my inner calendar.

There's a Chorale social tonight but I'm skipping.  I went for drinks (two and a half glasses of water, though I was dying for an Irish coffee) after rehearsal Tuesday night and several people were less than enthused.  Besides, I've felt tired and blah this week, so I told Bruce I just wanted to rest and head off any bugs that might be coming.

Random happy bit of the day: the office building next to us has a little cafe.  Very little, we're talking a counter to order and a couple spots to get drinks, although they've got a space across the hall where you can eat.  Anyways, I went over to try it today.  Nice people, food is wonderful--lotsa regulars packing the line, which is a good sign-- and they had decaf green tea!  You know how few restaurants carry decaf regular tea, let alone have several flavors?  Anyways, my order took longer than it was supposed to, but it's not like I had a long drive or anything.  I ate in the hall-space, which was quiet except for Christmas music on the radio.  When I went back to get another hot tea to take back to DR&R, the lady at the counter said "You get a brownie on the house since you had to wait so long."  Haven't tried it yet, but very nice of her.  So that was a cheery event.

Back from Thanksgiving.  Nothing cool or unusual, just family at Grandma's.  Well, this year the Lucianis brought their Wii over, and Grandma's getting more teary/tired/morbid as she gets older, but otherwise same old same old.  Not so many leftovers this year (Jessica and Mariana got first dibs for the starving student apartment), but plenty during the meal and good to see people.  We were orginally supposed to stay til tomorrow, but Mom wanted the extra day to raid the attic and get started on Christmas stuff.

Alright, the job.  This is going to be long, so if anybody wants to teach me how to do that link/cut thing for future reference that'd be cool.  I actually have a job title now, Projects Associate.  (Note the plural, ooh, aah.)  The sort of thing that in most places would be "Special Assistant" or "Special Projects" except that we don't like the word "special" in our office.  

Disability Rights & Resources is a non-profit agency.  Motto: "Fighting for Justice; Advancing Independence".  We do everything from siccing the Dept. Justice people on non-compliant businesses to moving people out of nursing homes, information and mediation during disputes, parking compliance, audio description, and anything random that comes up.  The summers I worked there I was basically general admin assistant but with job ties to Julia in a semi-personal-assistant way.  So, I knew the place and people, loved it, they liked me, you get the picture.  Julia was the first person I called when I made up my mind to leave school.

Anyways, last Monday I get a call on my cell phone from Julia, and we agree to meet that night and talk about it.  We rely on grants, and there are very few general do-gooder grants.  (Not many people will give us money for just being wonderful human beings, it's usually tied to specific work and projects.)  Anyways, grants for a couple different things came in, and they were budgeting for a 20 hr/wk part time person to help.  Julia and Lydia (who handles the grants, Lord bless and keep her) decided to save hassle and paperwork to just combine them into one full-time person.  Apparently as they talked about needing someone who knew our work/philosophy, who could work independent, and handle details they simultaneously exclaimed "Megan!"   So while I do what needs to be done, as do we all, eventually I'll have specific targets and tasks.

First off, NCDAN (North Carolina Disability Action Network).  A state-wide coalition that's supposed to help coordinate the disability community into actually taking action.  Communication, organization, leadership, etc. for consumers with disabilities, friends/family, agencies, etc.  The Project Director, Michael, is officially based out of DR&R but he's only in a couple days a week due to commuting from Lexington and state-wide travel.  Michael is meant to be the grand visionary leader, directing the focus, spearheading action, helping to set the tone for everybody to play nice together.  He's good at that, as far as I can tell, very enthusiastic and energetic and come-on-everybody-let's do this.  Good guy, really wants you to feel involved and proud.  However, he has pretty severe ADHD.  This is where I come in.  In addition to general gruntwork like calls, files, info, etc. (which hasn't kicked in just yet) I'm there as a detail lackey, to do the stuff he literally cannot sit still for.  Things like cleaning up written documents (he can't write or spell well), or reading documents more than a page long to give him the cliff notes.  As Julia put it, "Megan is your reasonable accomodation," there to help take dictation and type when he feels compelled to drop to the floor and do a few pushups during an info chat.  To be brutally honest if he was in more than three days a week I'd probably kill him, and I have to keep telling myself learning disability so I don't build up any high-school-group-project resentment.  But he's a great guy, and since we're each pretty secure in our skills and abilities we should make a pretty good team.

The other grant is Transportation.  I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with that, "basically what you're doing for Michael" as Julia explained.  From what I heard part of it is training people to use accessible transportation.  (Huh?)  Lydia already had me sign up for a conference workshop in Tampa for January (I'll know if I'm accepted next week).  But the grant doesn't even kick in til January, when they start looking to hire a project director (basically another Michael) so I'll figure it out when it comes.

I figured out on my first day that my actual job description is "Info Wench and Geek/Dork Wrangler."  Info wench in that I'll probably be the one doing research and keeping logistics straight (actually I think "Detail Lackey" is a bit closer for now).  "Geek/Dork Wrangler" came from a chat with Michael and the board president.  Michael was bouncing around going "Yeah, see, [future associate] and I are the whole geek/dork thing, we're really enthusiastic but really offbeat and we need a nerd to keep us on track, to keep us focused through all the distractions." 

"I got the nerd and detail thing pretty good," I commented, "Does that make me the Geek/Dork Wrangler to keep y'all in line?"  It do, apparently.  And that was just in my first two hours.

I love this place.  I've already learned three inappropriate phrases in sign language, as well as a derogatory "talk talk talk blah blah blah" sign.  (Don't worry, I've also learned the alphabet, counting 1-10, coffee, father, mother, yesterday and two days ago.)  I'm already planned to go protest in Atlanta next October, hearing Julia's interpreting stories, and who all knows what is going to happen.  I just kind of show up and wait for marching orders.  I mean, every job is going to have crap, and I know just next month we've got to do a huge federal report that's going to be a pain and a half.  I'm not going to get rich, but I got salary and solid benefits.  So, all in all, I'm pretty excited.  Already got my first paycheck, which always makes things better.

...Megan got a job!  At Disability Rights & Resources, the office with Julia that I loved so much during two summers!  Full Time!  With Benefits!  Yayyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!

I start tomorrow (Wednesday).  Details to follow.  Hallelujah!

Throat still tight, even though I'm trying not to talk more than I have to.  I'm working the water and hot tea like crazy (which has had the benefit of reducing cramps--hydration will cure anything it seems), went to the Y again yesterday.  No news on that front.  To be honest, I'm almost hoping that I can't sing on the 13th, just to avoid some of the songs and the frightening idea of "staging."  Ideally I would have to back out of the concert but still be able to sing a few hymns and carols at church through the Christmas season, but that would be just too convenient, wouldn't it?

In other news...not too much.  Had to make a few phone calls and errands to pick stuff up for Dad since the insurance is being cranky.  Got the CFNC letter saying I have to start making loan payments on January 10th.  I'll call tomorrow or Tuesday to start the whole "Hey, I have no income" dilemma.  Flu shot at Dad's office this past Thursday; the nurse gave me the added advice (she had to ask about infections so I explained my vocal cords to be safe) to not drink cold drinks and wrap up well if I'm exposed to cold.  

TV alert: Sherlock Holmes with Jeremy Brett.  Past few weeks UNC-TV and SCETV have been showing them on Saturday nights.  Terrific stories of course, and a whole lot of "Hey, it's that guy!" British actors extravaganza.  I've already seen John Castle (Posthumous, I, Claudius) and Josh Ackland (Ambassador in Hunt for Red October).  Brett is wonderful as Holmes.  I have to admit it was strange at first, because he plays a lot with the dramatic side of Holmes (exaggerated gestures, hissy fits, etc.) but then when I re-read the stories I realized just how diva/drama queen Sherlock was.  David Burke is a solid Watson, the everyman sidekick but definitely capable in his own way.  So far I've seen "Solitary Cyclist," (that had Castle, decent but not remarkable) "Crooked Man" (heart-breaking)  "Copper Beeches,"(a little too obvious with the villain right off the bat),  "Speckled Band,"(creepy!  Oh man they worked the danger in that one).  "Greek Interpreter" was my least favorite, partly because they screwed with the ending (Story: villains get away with Sofia, but they turn up dead and she vanishes, strongly implied she got revenge for her brother's murder.  TV: Sofia would have gone with the guy anyways, which gives Holmes further grounds to get all misogynistic about the nature of women).  Mainly, though, the little laughing man.  In the story he's just that, a little man with glasses who giggles and gives off an air of menace.  The actor went COMPLETELY Peter Lorre, an unnecessary accent and even right down to sitting in a chair playing with a walking stick, straight out of Maltese Falcon.  Maybe they meant it as a tribute, but it was just distracting.  Besides, this Mycroft looked old enough to be Sherlock's father, not brother.  Anyways, aside from Megan's eccentric fangirl tics on that last one, they're a great way to spend an hour, hot cup of tea and a clever little mystery.  Check your local listings.

I waited a week and a half, no word yet on the job front.  I'm pissed, because I thought if people were hassling my supervisors for references surely something would at least pop for an interview.  Sadly, I've let a week and a half go by and nothing.  So, back to Craigs List.  My mother just spent this afternoon gently suggesting that I expand my job horizons.  I haven't looked at anything but clerical work so far.  I really want the full time job thing to work, but I figure if I don't have anything by the new year I'll start hitting the bookstores.  Barnes & Noble, Borders.  Mom thinks it would be nice to have some cash for Christmas, and while that would be lovely I think starting retail work during the holiday rush would drive me over the edge.  (Hardly the way to reduce stress, huh?)  I'm already going stir crazy, and with the economy in the toilet and swirling fast that's not helping matters any.

So, Daddy finally hooked up Barnhouse!  I got my computer, security features allow me online, yay!  Unfortunately the new iTunes software screwed my library from hell to breakfast.  Some of my albums, like soundtracks and whatnot, have different artists on different tracks.  iTunes took one record, say The Cream of Clapton and broke it into five separate albums--based on track listings by Cream, Derek and the Dominoes, or Eric Clapton.  Repeat ad nauseum.  Most infuriating, as I now have to go and create playlists that duplicate the albums just so I can listen coherently.  I haven't synched my iPod yet, we'll see how that goes.

ENT had an opening yesterday afternoon, so I was glad to get in the same day I called.  (I found it amusing that the kiddy corner was playing The Little Mermaid, the very scene where Ariel gives up her voice.)  After a wait and a brief look Dr. Dennis gave me a nasty clear gel to swish and swallow to numb me up so that he could stick a scope down my throat and look at the vocal cords themselves.  That was AWFUL, for the first few minutes I felt like I couldn't breathe, then every time I managed to take a breath or swallow it set off a gag reflex and I coughed and choked.  I fet like I was drowning, although luckily it settled down by the time he came with the little camera/magnifier thingy.

Good news is no nodules, no infection, nothing like that.  The problem is that my vocal cords are swollen.  The doctor's best hunch is that stress is causing physical tension in my neck, which affects the cords.  No medication, but I need to stay hydrated, swear off caffeine, and rest my voice.  (Actually he was pushing exercise more than anything else to try to relieve the stress.)  So no singing until Thanksgiving.  If I still have problems at the end of November/early December I come back and probably see a speech therapist, but he doesn't think it'll go that far.

Last night was Zach's Court of Honor, so after talking with Mom I went.  They had food, but there were so many people you couldn't take much of anything and didn't quite get full.  Thankfully it finished in just over an hour. 

This morning Joe called (I'd left him a message) and after he talked about the ACDA conference this past weekend I filled him in on the diagnosis.  He said it sounded about right (my speaking voice sounded different even over the phone) and was relieved that it wasn't anything worse.  Since the Christmas concert isn't until December 13th that gives us a little cushion; the plan for now is to attend rehearsals and listen and hopefully I can sing again in the last two weeks.  He then asked about my shiver things, and is worried about me going off in the middle of the concert.  (I told him that nothing's diagnosed, they seem to come when I'm tired and stressed.  I couldn't pass up the chance to go "That 'Twelve Days of Christmas' is a health hazard, it's seizure inducing."  (Luckily he laughed instead of telling me not to be such a brat.  To tell the truth, that is where all the neck tension comes from, as I don't just clench my jaw, I tighten up my whole frikking body in my absolute loathing of that piece of crap, but I didn't tell Joe that.  Yet.) 

When Joe reiterated the whole relieve stress thing I couldn't help muttering  "A job and a place of my own would take care of the stress, but I guess exercise is the next best option for now." 
"You need to get a taste for wine or something, that'll get you to relax!" he laughed.  (Joe was in a happy mood.  I think he had some nights out during the conference, and you know musicians.)
"Please, my mother was offering me sake last night.  Joe, if caffeine is out then alcohol probably isn't a whole lot better for the cords." 
"That's probably true."

So after the phone call and various other odds and ends I went to the Y.  Fortunately it wasn't crowded, and I was relieved to see that the people were at various levels of fitness, not all the young model harbody type.  About an hour total on the bike and elliptical.  (Adrenaline and momentum made me want to keep going, but I had the sense to say "Don't push it too soon.")  Home, scrambled eggs and a salad for lunch--don't judge me, I needed protein--shower.  Now I'm just killing time til I meet Judy at the carpool for rehearsal tonight.

Slow weekend.  Dad finally insisted on going through the garage--in addition to all my mess from Greenville that I thought I'd have space for, there was also all the kitchen stuff we moved out when the counter people came and never put back.  Much more space now, easy to get around.  My stuff has been reduced to five boxes and my posters, which will go back to the storage unit as soon as I get a good portfolio sleeve to protect them.  When we carried my stuff back we grabbed my desk chair to bring home, since Dad finally hooked up my computer and the only other chair in the workroom is broken.  Yay Barnhouse!  Daddy spent last night cleaning off files, defragging, etc. before he can put a new security program on there.  So I'm not on my computer yet, but should be soon.  Whoopee!  (Actually I don't mind using the family computer for internet and email and such, but it'll be nice to have my music at easy access to work with my iPod.)

Church on Sunday, early service and Sunday School.  I felt glad to get back.  Oddly enough, as Mom and I were talking this week we discovered that just as I'm feeling the tug to return she's having a period of easing off church in favor of books and such.  It was good to see people, and even better to hear about all the service projects gearing up.  Not in a schadenfreude way, but it really pulls you out of your own butt when you hear about people who got laid off and can't make rent, or taking a Saturday to work for a family whose husband is going through chemo, stuff like that.

I wish my father would give a straight answer.  He told me last night that tonight is a Court of Honor for the Boy Scouts, and Zach's getting his life.  "Do you want me to go?" "I'm not going to force you."  "Do you want me there?" "Whatever, babe, it's up to you."  This sounds horrible, but Zach and I aren't close, I really don't want to go, don't care, and I'm not sure Zach cares if I'm there or not.  However, this is likely to be Zach's last award since he let an Eagle slide--to be honest I think Zach only did this so Dad could have a consolation prize--and with Jo Ann in trouble (again) I'm not sure if Mom is going.  I figure if Mom goes I'll stay home, but if Mom is with her sister then I'll go.  We'll see.

ENT should be open by now.  I better call for that appointment; I could barely get through two stanzas of "Blessed Assurance" at the start of church yesterday, and now I hurt to talk more than five minutes.  I emailed Joe and Renee in Chorale to back out of the JCC luncheon on Wednesday, even if I'm better I don't know the music.  And so I muddle through.

I didn't fill out any more applications this week after Tuesday.  A lot of it was wanting to spell my references, but also I'm just sick and tired of the whole bloody mess.  Obviously something's happening if companies are following up with old supervisors, so I'll give it some time and see what pops up.  The recent round of email/resumes is still getting me a bunch of follow-ups (the "you meet basic qualifications give us your references and we might get back to you) which I haven't touched yet.  Maybe next Tuesday or Wednesday.  I was actually encouraged yesterday because one contact wrote back to say that they had unexpected budget cuts so they're not filling the position, but I have a great resume and he's sure I can find something--even gave me another website to hunt through.  Like I told mom, bummer it's not a job, but yay for human contact and reassurance.  Like somebody said, best short prayer in the world is "Fuck it."  As in I can't do anything else, it's in God's hands now, fuck it.  Or Anne Lamott's "Whatever," which if less satisfying a release is probably closer to my actual state of mind.

Thursday I went downtown to CPCC and talked with a career counselor.  I had to pay a fee, as I'm not a student, but they set up this particular counseling serivce for community members who are thinking about changing careers/going back to school etc. and want to find what's right for them.  (Gee, sound familiar?)  Completed the Myers-Briggs (ISFJ, although my Feeling/THinking is dead even in terms of decision-making) and an interest survey.  THat was amusing, as my top three were Artistic, Social, and Investigative or something.  According to them my top five occupations should be: 

1) Professional Musician (ha!  Just cause I like it doesn't mean I have talent!)
2) Photographer (this actually seems like a decent fit for me, but do snapshots equal a career?)
3) Speech Pathologist (I like listening to language, but screw anatomy and biology and all that mess)
4) can't remember
5) Forester (What?  apparently I'm outdoorsy.  My aunt Dorothy also got "Forest Ranger" and "Nut/fruit grower" on her assessment in high school, which cracks us up since she's a PhD in toxicology who works with the lab rats and travels on conferences)

Further down the list were "Respiratory therapist" "Elementary school teacher" (aw, hail naw), "English as Second Language Instructor" and "College instructor" (community college, as opposed to University professor on the whole research/publishing thing).  Teaching kept popping up in various forms, and the counselor seemed to be on a kick about that, asking repeatedly "Why don't you think you'd be good at teaching?  What about tutoring, think you'd like small groups?"  I know Mom's experience in Elementary School is hardly univeral, but I've seen enough to know what I can or can't put up with.

No burning bushes.  I didn't see the light and have a calling or anything, and really it wasn't anything new, but it helped to talk it all out with somebody who's pleasantly objective.  Mom and I talking at home that night jokingly hit on the revelation that I need to teach literature at community college and then when class is out of session be a tour guide, leading literary tours.  It seemed like a great idea at the time, although now I'm iffy on the tour guide part.  I'm not wild at the thought of teaching either, but lord knows I'd rather lead seminar discussions on classic novels than deal with the whole tenure track publish or perish.  It sucks when you don't like the professions that deal with your favorite subjects, or don't enjoy the only jobs you're good at.  Anyways, I went online yesterday and App State and UNCG both have English MAs with a concentration in Community College teaching, those looked strong.

I just wish there was some way to know.  I mean, the literature angle's been tugging at me forever.  All through college I took literature electives, at Maritime one of my constant laments was "I miss books!" and I lit up at the thought of reading real literature (Conrad) in my Maritime History class--hell I was bouncing off the walls at the thought of three hours on a plane to read, and as soon as I have some rest and free time I go for the novels.  I originally passed on an English major because "I love reading too much and I don't want to ruin that," but it seems more and more that I won't.  Books make me happier than a pig in slops, so I'm fairly sure that's my field.

But what to do with it?  How do I KNOW what area to go into?  How can I know that I'll be happy as an editor/publisher, or that community college might actually be fun and not draining, without signing on for another few years of work and student loans only to discover "This isn't for me."  I don't regret my year at Maritime, but ti's made me very gun shy about those commiting-long-term decisions and knowing exactly what I'm in for.  Good grief.

So I made the executive decision not to apply to any jobs today.  Part of this is just fatigue, both sick of the process and tired from staying up til 2 AM.  Mainly, though, I found out from my old bosses that they're getting carpeted with emails asking for them to post references and such.  As best I can tell, the individual comapnies that are hiring sign up with one or two major sites that have the format and such to accept and process resumes.  Unfortunately, because they're all separate listings, they're not transferring anything besides name and address, so I have to keep repeating myself over and over--and the same thing for Babits and Katherine and Julia, who are all busy people with jobs to do.  I could tell they were aggravated, but trying to be nice to me, so after sending out apologetic emails and saying an Oh, shit! I decided to just wait a couple days and see what happens.

Tuesday my voice was still weird.  Last week in chorale after about twenty minutes I randomly started cracking, couldn't hit notes, really breathy and shaky.  So I didn't sing.  Same thing all week and yesterday, except now I'm starting to hurt.  Joe listened to me after rehearsal and said he didn't hear any immediate red flags, but not to let it go too long.  I figure I'll give it one more week and if I still can't sing next Tuesday I'm calling an ENT.

I would talk a bit about Election Day but Zach needs the computer for schol.  When is Dad going to hook up my own Barnhouse?

So I went to Greenville this weekend.  The Halloween party itself was much tamer than last year, didn't feel like an event so much as the usual hanging out at Tyler's house, with costumes.  No costume contest, no professors (which may be why it was so tame, they were the ringleaders last year), anda whole bunch of first years I don't know.  But I got to see a lot of people, especially the ones I was chummier with, and get caught up, so that was great.  Plus, I gotta give the first years credit, they do awesome food.  They were showing up with bean dip in a crock pot, taqitos, one guy brought four kinds of curry, yum.  There were some impressive costumes, one of the new guys was dressed as Max in Where the Wild Things Are, Jeanette was a full-out ninja, Lyz made a great tavern wench.  (I was low-budget.  "Hmm, what can I do with a long black choir dress?"  Smear some red face paint on my hands and voila, Lady Macbeth.) 

Saturday we (John, Leigh and I) slept late and hung around until going to dinner at O'Charley's.  Couldn't get hold of anybody except Marshall and Sam, who missed Halloween due to Sam's strep, but it was good to see them.  Tried to go to a corn maze/haunted field but the wait was insane and with half of us coming down sniffly and/or poor we backed out and hung around at Tyler's for a little bit.  Sunday John, Leigh and I got a quick lunch at Zaxby's before I took off.  John and Leigh were so nice to let me crash at their place.  I felt like a little more of a third wheel, I guess just cause they were a married couple and had their own weekend routine, but they're such good people it wasn't uncomfortable.  I think they were excited about the apples and drink mixes, but they didn't try them while I was there.

Just as well I'm not at Maritime now.  From what people have said it's changed a little bit, less hanging out cameraderie as people are off doing their own things, whether couple isolating themselves or thesis research or whatever.  I wouldn't have had the whole Bermuda thing anyways, and even if I'd lucked out with history classes I liked I still wouldn't be any closer to finding a workable thesis or reconciling myself to this career field.  So, I made the best decision to get out, I just wish Phase II was a little clearer.

I have to admit, when I got back Sunday I was not pleased at returning home to parents.  I could feel a foul mood building along the usual  job-place-of-my-own-no-money-blah, but I very firmly told myself to shut up and eat.  You're hungry and cranky, get food.  Mom had some sort of chicken stew deal, lots of tomatoes and ham and mushrooms and such (Provencal?) which turned out to be vey good indeed and curbed the obnoxious.  WKRP in Cincinnati rerun, conclusion of Last Enemy on Masterpiece (revamp sucks!).

Admittedly part of the cranky was problems that developed over the last few days.  Did I whine on here about Job.com not sending my password?  I checked webmail on Leigh's laptop Saturday, and lo and behold, five password messages, along with responses to resumes wound up in the junk folder from all last week.  I swear I CONSTANTLY checked spam and junk folders here at home, why didn't I get them?!?!  To make matters worse, two gas pumps on Friday (and an ATM in Greenville) rejected my PIN, saying it was wrong or declined and mess like that.  I can see one brain fart, but I tried swapping some digits the first time and it still rejected, and this happened all weekend!

Today once Renata and Lucien (cleaning ladies) arrived I went to the credit union to deposit a check and ask about the card.  THey didn't see any kind fo flag or watch on the account, so they don't think there's anything blatantly screwed up.  For security reasons they have no access to the PIN, but started the request to have headquarters send it to me, so it should be a day or two.  Chinese for lunch, yummy Yu Shiang scallops.  Picked up Cleo's thyroid pills, went to Coffeeworks to read some more of my Chekhov short novels.  I don't like the coffeeshop on teacher workdays, people were there and kind of loud.  (I suppose Coffeeworks is less of a teenage hangout than Starbucks, so it could have been a lot worse, but it was still more than I'm used to.)

Tomorrow: Voting.  I'm planning on mid-morning, so hopefully I'll sneak in between rushes and even fi I have a long wait I won't have trouble getting to Chorale.  There will also be time to flash my "I voted" sticker at Krispy Kreme for a free doughnut.  Huzzah!  Unfortunately Chorale is calling for arriving a half hour early to practice a "patriotic" program we're supposed to perform at lunch next Wednesday.  Bleck.  I really don't want to do it, so I'm hoping desperately for an interview to pop up, but I really don't have any excuse with the whole unemployed=free during the day thing.  Plus, Joe and I set up to meet before rehearsal to check something, so I don't know how he wants to reschedule now.  Thursday I have my meeting with the CPCC career transitions counselor; I've already completed the online assessments/surveys so hopefully the lady can help me figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

Well, I'm heading to Greenville.  Maritime is having the Halloween party tomorrow night, and that's a big deal, so I was determined to get there if at all possible.  John and Leigh are letting me crash at their place over the weekend, and I'll get to see everybody, so I'm excited.  Costume is way cheap this year--one of my long black choir dresses, smear red makep on my hands, and scream "Out, damn spot!" as Lady [Scottish Play].  But whatever, it gets me away from the family, I get to see friends, and have fun.  I'm for it.  I leave tomorrow around lunch.  Not looking forward to a five hour drive and no music (still don't have my car CD player fixed).

So I need to do some laundry and have clean clothes to take.  I also need to get some food to take to the party.  I'm going simple, big ol' pan-chocolate-chip-cookie and people can cut what they want.  We're also making hot chocolate and Daddy's Russian Tea mix.  Mainly cause we want our hot drinks here when it's cold, but I want a thank-you gift for John and Leigh putting me up.

Cleo's been cuddly.  I made about 17 job applications in the past three days (Mare and Jess tipped me off about Craigs List) so now I'm in another "wait and see" mode.  Zach's in the middle of application craziness.  Dad's working, Mom's office has been pretty stressful for the past month and a half.  (Financial Services, you can imagine.)  I'm just ready for a job and a place of my own, which ain't happening before the new year, that's for sure.

I don't know why this house is so cold.  I mean, it's cool outside but the house is freezing.  And Cleo has not quit howling since we got home.  Sigh. 

I apologize for the length, but I have yet to learn that shortcut link thing people do.  Tips, anybody?

Chapel Hill was fun.  We left early in the morning so Zach could check in with the tour.  Once they got started I took off.  Looked at the Student Union and bookstore before I found Ben in his office.  Ben and I went to lucnh at a little Mexican place on Franklin Street, walked a bit, and just generally chatted and got all caught up.  That was nice, since we hadn't seen each other in a while and our updates tend to come from what our mothers say at lunch.  Afterwards met up with the family, stood in line at the Dean Dome.  They opened up fairly early this year for a volleyball game before Late Night got started, which is not my favorite but it beat standing outside. 

Late Night itself started around 7:00.  Stuart Scott hosted again, and they really toned down the skits and stuff.  Past couple years the teams (men and women) have done song and dance numbers and goofy sketches before the scrimmages.  Last year's skits stunk, this year they trimmed it.  Women did just one, a fashion catwalk where they all wore blazers and blond wigs for their coach before the men on the cheer squad joined them for "Brick House" dance number.  Scrimmage. 

Then the men.  Individual introductions, complete with sparks and smoke and music.  Of course the roof just about came off when Hansbrough entered.  Not really any skits, just a couple song and dance numbers.  Freshmen had to wear godawful neon workout clothes for some sort of 80s thing, all the players came out with the girls dance team for "Hello Detroit" (Final Four in April).  Lastly, the seniors wore caps and gowns to reminisce complete with video board.  Bobby Frasor had taped a series of videos as "Coach Williams" on the golf course, jogging, at home, etc., only to wind up slipping and sprawled out on an NCAA logo.  (This was priceless.  For those who don't keep up, during last years tournament Roy Williams pitched a hissy fit--justified--over the slippery center-court logo that nearly took out half the players.)  Finally, the last video ended with the team exiting the locker room ready for a game, only to wind up in a dogpile on the logo.  Of course the scrimmage.  We're gonna be good this year.

Saturday we hung out and Grandma's.  Lucianis came over for dinner, so we got a chance to chat and talk and try to figure out holiday plans.  Sunday we left around 1:00, had supper at Nothin' but Noodles.

Yesterday, I discovered by accident that ImaginOn (the downtown kids library/theatre) was showing the Lon Chaney Phantom of the Opera!  Now, it is a dated film, and to be honest I don't think it's Chaney's best work.  (I mean, the makeup is impressive and I know it made him famous, but it's stuff like Laugh, Clown, Laugh that he really tears your heart out.)  Anyways, they were showing it free, had a live accompanist to go old-timey, so I jumped on it.  Dressed up, actually did full makeup, just so I could be old-fashioned out on the town "event".  They had the pianist on the keyboard (which was kind of cool, cause he could switch to "organ" at key parts.)  Also, and I don't think this was standard in the 20s, they had a soprano to sing the "Faust" numbers along with the actresses.  Couldn't quite synch up, but close enough.  Besides, after a good bit as Marguerite she even did the horrified scream at the chandelier drop, which led to applause.  Bummed that we got started late (I had to pay for parking after two hours), but it was fun.  The audience couldn't help snickering at some of the melodramatic slow faints, or how ridiculously slow on the uptake Christine could be.  (After about ten minutes of mirrors, catacombs, etc., she finally says "You're the Phantom!"  "Duh!" muttered the guy next to me.  She also got some unintended laughs at her exaggerated head tilt and shake "Nooo," when the Phantom asks "Do you hear voices?")  Whatever, I got to see Lon Chaney on the big screen, I'm happy.

Spent a good part of the day online looking at job listings on Craigslist.  Unfortunately one of the websites I need to upload a resume to won't send me a password, I'm getting cranky.  I also need to rehearse Chorale music, although I'm about ready to strangle Joe for his "Twelve Days" obsession that meant we had to drop LEONARD BERNSTEIN!!!  Sigh. 

Precious little going on this week.  Well, Tuesday night I made the black bean soup recipe out of Moosewood, and it turned out pretty well.  (Mom thinks I improved it by not sauteeing everything to a mush.  I was just following the directions, go figure.)  Last night Mom did most of the cooking--I played Craig--and we had fried green tomatoes!  And people say I'm not especially southern...

I think Cleo's adjusting for cooler weather.  She's eating a lot more, and she's a little more--I don't know if she'll ever be snuggly, but the apst few days she's been pretty insistant about getting right up against me or the pillows and whatnot.  We think she's cold, as well as senile.  I swear this cat has dementia, even when she's not hungry she stands at the steps and just howls until somebody gets within eyesight, like she's forgotten where we are or something.  Deaf as a post, senile, toothless (answers to the name of Lucky...) all we can do is shake our heads.  But she's purring a lot more, and there's something about a purring kitty on your leg that makes life better.

Tonight we're leaving for Durham.  Tomorrow is Late Night with Roy--the basketball season officially begins with practice and such, and this being Carolina it's a big deal with the players participating in goofy skits, scrimmage matches, etc.  Past couple years Stuart Scott has hosted.  Anyways, we've gone for a couple years now, and Mom and Zach hit upon the brilliant idea of scheduling Zach's college visit for Friday.  So while Zach and the parents are on the tour, I'm hanging out with Ben, and then we'll probably mess around Chapel Hill before the events start.  And since we haven't seen Grandma in a while we'll hang around on Saturday, possibly get to see the Lucianis, which will be nice.  Back on Sunday.

So, we did go pick apples this past weekend.  Sky Top Orchard is this little place at the top of a mountain outside Flat Rock/Hendersonville, very southern tip close to the South Carolina line.  Mom and Dad found it the year we moved to Charlotte, and we've made it every year since.  The past few years we've had to time it for my Fall Break, so it was usually kinda warm and still green.  This year, since it was later, we actually had cool weather--almost chilly, at some points--and the elaves were turning.  Yay!  The cider was so good, got to eat a Fuji apple right off the tree (ooooohhhhhh, so good), and we even had Arkansas Blacks in season!  (Wonderful for cooking and long-term keeping.)  We didn't actually pick that many ourselves, bought the bagged half bushels to make up the difference.  Picnicked (or whatever the verb is), and the recipe I found for fried chicken was great.  I have a good eye for food, even if I lack practice in making it.  (Soak chicken in buttermilk overnight, coat in flour with salt, paprika and cayenne mixed in.  Quick fry to brown, finish by baking in oven.  We packed it before the crisp could set in, but it tasted great.)  I hate that it was so crowded--although i'm certianly glad for their business, after the past couple years being lean-- and I kind of wished I wasn't with family.  If you can get away from the busy parts, it would be a nice place to just walk through the orchard and have nature to yourself.  Oh well, yay fall.  I took several pictures, and if my father will ever hook up my computer I'll post them somewhere.

Sunday we chilled at home.  I made scrambled eggs and found that in a single serving, I can enjoy them.  It's sad that I had to look up scrambled eggs in The Joy of Cooking, but it's not like my family eats them all the time.  Proud little Megan actually experimented by throwing some terragon in the eggs, along with the paprika, and that was good.  Hopefully I can teach myself to like at least a few easy egg recipes, because that would make my life a lot simpler (and cheaper). 

Today, cleaning ladies.  And it was COLD this morning!  I had to scrape frost off the car, I could see my breath, and I got to pull out sweaters!  Pumpkin Pie Latte as I read The Steppe by Chekhov, walked to Barnes & Noble and limited myself to Molly's Pilgrim, had a nice hot stromboli for lunch.  Now I'm home, not sure what I want to do.  Read, maybe pop in a movie before Zach comes home.  I dunno.