Monthly Archives: November 2011

Ooof. Tonight, I ate a giant cheeseburger with an egg on it and drank a couple beers and ate some onion rings and then we went to the cheap bookstore.

First of all, I cannot believe I ate that entire cheeseburger BUT I DID. I snarfed it the hell down. I guess that it’s okay since I just had a wee lunch and I hardly ever eat cheeseburgers. It’s just not something we do at home, you know? And then I had a Lucky Bucket Certified Evil (and a regular lager) to wash it all down and found myself slightly tipsy on this fine school night. Mr. Bffl pointed out that Certified Evil is 9.6% and I have cut back so I shouldn’t be shocked but, still. Gosh. I picked up some silly books at the cheap bookstore and I’m going to go read shortly-ish.

Now we’re kicking it on the couch and Mr. J is going through his dad’s chili cookbook (no lie) to see what recipe we want to use this weekend and I’m contemplating bed. Mmm, bed. Tomorrow is Friday and Friday is filled with glorious promise and today is Thursday, Friday’s neighbor, so it’s all good. Sure, work is work and I had this crazy little tickle in my throat this morning and…eh. Whatever. We are nearly there.

But, seriously. A BURGER WITH AN EGG ON. I know this is so not-clever that even Red Robin has caught on to it but, seriously, it was delicious. The finest cheezburger I’ve had in a while. Om nom nom.


go soak your head.

I didn’t actually soak my head, just my other bits, and feel like maybe you shouldn’t soak your head, either. My dearest darling is out to dinner with his boss and his boss’s boss and I am little-womaning it up at home. In fact, I am typing this on Mr. J’s computer because I’m too lazy to go downstairs and mess with my laptop, which is lazy indeed. So anyone who follows Mr. J on will be amused to see that I am straight up listening to Death Cab for Cutie and not signing out of his account. Take that, Jameson.

(Actually, a variety of sources will tell you that if anyone is merely “Jameson” in this household, it’s me, which is amusing in a number of ways.)

Nothing terribly eventful happened today. I went to work and survived. I went to the gym and discovered that I had left my water bottle and a sock at home, muddled through 15 minutes on the elliptical and then realized I hated the squench in my right shoe and gave it up. I came home, heard that I was dining alone, ate a glorious meal of pickles, soup and a sandwich and hopped into the tub for an hour to read.

I have no philosophical thoughts. I have been having an interesting discussion with a friend of mine about the aforementioned Death Cab for Cutie, during which it was mentioned that maybe certain albums are conducive to falling in love and springtime and that other ones are more for fall and being alone.

So what does it say about me that my favorites are always, always, always the ones for fall and being alone? Not that I haven’t always been a sucker for a sad, sad song. (See: Nick Hornsby, High Fidelity: What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns, or watching violent videos, that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?)

Also noteworthy, I’ve decided that I’m not going to come back to St. Louis for Radiohead. I don’t know. I told my bffl that it was nothing, I just wasn’t feeling it, but that’s not necessarily the truth. It’s not the entire truth, anyway, though it is a big part of the truth. It’s just that I always feel so drained after going to St. Louis for SOME BIG HUGE EVENT. I want the next time I come to St. Louis to be just for messin’ around with my friends, I think. And part of it is because my bones are settling for winter. I can’t help thinking that it’s going to be over before I know it, though, this season, at the rate things are going. Which is rare for me. Speaking of, it was supposed to snow last night and didn’t. It started at 3-5 inches and went down to under an inch of slush before not happening at all. That seems like a metaphor for something. A promising one, though.

(I could murder a cup of tea but, once again, the upstairs/downstairs issue comes up. Ah, well.)

Bonus feature!

Richard just made this especially for us so you can see how rad it is. : )


[Look! It’s me! And my buddy, Richard! And we’re comics! I’m the foil. : )]

Life’s a lol.

I was actually made a comic book character today by a dear friend of mine, which is probably the most exciting thing that will happen to me. It’s over on Facebook but maybe I’ll see if I can get permission to post it here. It’s a pretty perfect representation of me. My friend has managed to capture my slightly-pudgy-but-still-cute-and-also-fairly-cool self well.

And he gave “me” a jacket with a Union Jack patch, which delighted me. His work is, in theory, at pulp21 but it mostly seems to be on Facebook. The strip was funny, too. Very tongue-in-cheek. And…well, funny.

So that’s most of the interesting things that happened today. Friend at work was okay, had almonds for my afternoon snack, worked some on Big Writerly Project. I stayed up way too late reading about Kate Middleton’s clothes but what are you gonna do?

(The answer is “go to bed, silly.”)

Big Writerly Project is a big review for playback that I’m working on. I know there’s some mystery to the way I keep talking about it but the reality is less cool. My bffl was really excited because he thought I was working on a book. Sigh. I can barely keep this stuff in the air. Anyway, it’s going well, I think. I may also have a regular review up for the readin’ this week, too. Tomorrow marks my triumphant return to the gym, as well.

Eye of the tiger, sweeties, eye of the tiger.

Monday, Monday, Monday

It is 7:30 and I am writing this on my phone from bed. Do not write column, do not work on Big Writerly Project, do not pass 7:15. Do drink tea and read in bed with cats.

The first workday day of DST always hits me like this. There are worse things and my editor was cool but it will be astounding if I’m up past 8:30.

And, worst of all? The closest snack place to my department at Ft Moo was out of bananas when I went to go get one this afternoon. : ( Total first world problem, not having time to go to one of the other snack shops but, damn. Totally had me off my game. And then one of my friends left work in tears without a word and that was worrying indeed.

Only one Monday a week, though, yeah?

world in motion

Once again, I was working on Big Writerly Project so my brain is mush. I think I might even take a week off from Lovefool because I need to figure out what the hell I’m doing with it. It feels a little stale for me. I just…I don’t know. I feel like Lovefool is kind of shouting into the abyss sometimes and it rarely shouts back. And I’m not doing it for the love, really, but what do people want? Am I boring them? Do they like quirky lists or author features or stuff about specific books? Superheroes or indie stuff? Is writing about anime all the friggin’ time okay? Sometimes it feels like I’m boring them because sometimes I feel like I just cannot come up with anything interesting and I end up pulling a column out of my hat on Monday night.

I did read a lot of Terry Pratchett today. That was pretty satisfying. I read the last of the Tiffany Aching books and am reading one about Death right now. I kind of semi sort of argued with a collaborator about Big Writerly Project and that was a little frustrating because it was getting far more complicated than it needed to be so I had to be all “Yo, chillax.” I hate being like that. I picked up some prescriptions. I thought about what I was really looking for in this move to Omaha.

What was I looking for? I suppose the answer is fairly simple – I was looking for a way out before I sank myself so far into life at home that I would never let Will leave it. No, that’s bullshit. I left before I couldn’t leave. Still not there. I left because it’s what I do with places. I leave them. I cannot envision staying in one place for the rest of my life because…I just can’t. And there we are. There’s an answer.

I had a good run with St. Louis but who knows if I would’ve come back if Geep hadn’t gotten sick? Of course, it’s almost a nonsense question because there wasn’t another option when it happened. There’s no point in looking down that road. I guess it means I leave people, too, but I can keep them, still, thanks to this modern life of ours and I made sure this was a baby step while I decide what I think about it. Close enough to pop back in, far enough to not be there.

Deciding what I think about it is a stupid thing to say because I will probably never be able to stay in one place forever and that’s probably a character flaw. But I think Will is the same way, which mitigates it a little. He lived in one area for so long and then he hit the ground running. His job, I think, suits us both to the ground because it’s an awfully big world out there and, sure, we’re seeing Omaha, of all places, but Omaha was (is) brand new for both of us. And, sure, Omaha is not necessarily turning out the way we expected it to but what’s life without a few surprises?

Because Omaha is not turning out the way we expected it to, I don’t think, and I realized that I can adapt to that or not. I choose adapting. In fact, it can probably be classified as a lifestyle choice at this point. And I wonder what an erin without motion, without a next step, would be like. I don’t think I’d know her at all.

writing is hard.

I really don’t have much to say tonight, which is okay. I think. I don’t know. I’m kind of sorting through some stuff in my head and it’s a little private, what’s up in my brain, and when I’m thinking I tend to clam up. So that’s a thing that I do that makes me kind of rubbish at writing because it’s all instant writer’s block up in here the second I need to sort something out in my head. It’s pretty bad news.

In better news, though – DST! And I went to the gym today on a Saturday when I had no other errands of my own free will and everything. And Doctor Who didn’t suck nearly as much as I thought it would. And there’s kitties in my life.

Friday I’m in love.

Hi. I was going to write a bunch of stuff about how my job encourages bad habits and then decided that was stupid, that kind of almost-whining. Ridiculous. Especially since today has turned out so fun.

This morning, I kind of decided that I wanted to have a weenie roast with my neighbors.

So I sent a few texts and we had a weenie roast.

And I got Crispin cider, in the can (which is very important), from a Hyvee in Council Bluffs since it’s actually not available in Omaha. And some cheesy hot dogs. (I love the hot dogs with the cheese in the middle.) We sat around a fire and burned stuff and had approximately one s’more each, despite getting the makings for a million of them, and I’m still chilled to my very bones but I feel so…well, so Fridaytastic.

Now I am home tucked into bed and Meowie is giving me that “Oh, god, where have you been” look since I’ve been home for approximately two minutes this evening. I went to the gym and remembered to hit my inhaler before working out and today at work wasn’t entirely ridiculous and it’s Friday, Friday, Friday. Friday means two glorious days of slouching around or, in this case, watching Doctor Who for PLAYBACK.

Either way, if I had to pick, Friday would probably be my favorite day of the week. Sure, you do have to work but the morning zips by, because it’s Friday, and the afternoon stretches out tantalizingly and then you arrive at Friday night and, after Friday night, it’s Saturday morning! And Saturday morning is all sleeping in and then bowls of cereal and cartoons and sprawling out on the couch.

And you know what? I am not going to give myself any chores this weekend except for the aforementioned Doctor Who watching. I mean, that’s research.

Totally research.

(Things I left out of this blog: I spent the morning obsessing about when I used to smoke and why and what that was like. The fact that I’m pretty sure I met a stray cat tonight but also fed it a hot dog because I…well, I’m me. The chill tonight that totally confirmed that it’s winter. The part where we started planning Friendsgiving with the neighbors. That after Mr. J turned in for the night because it was too cold for him, I spent the night staring up at our bedroom window just to see what he was up to. That Juniper was really most of what I saw in said bedroom window.)

erin + the elliptical

I made it to the gym today. I feel like I should tell you that it’s surprising I don’t go all the time because I love the push. I. Love. It.

“Six minutes down. You’re one-fifth of the way through this. You just started. Stop whining.”

“13 minutes. Two more minutes and you’re halfway there.”

“Eight minutes left. That’s, like, what? Two and a half songs. Suck it up, sweetie.”

“Done! Thirty minutes! Now a 50-calorie cooldown on the bike and a half-mile walk to the car.”

Really, no one, including myself, should be surprised that that’s how it goes once I’m actually there. I hate actually going to the gym, walking in and changing into workout stuff and committing to it. Once I make it there and I’m in that place when I hit my target heart rate, it’s just me and a barrier and I’m gonna take it down. If it’s my legs starting to ache or the breath catching in my throat – it doesn’t matter. There is only me and a clock and something with a solid beat.

Like everything else in my life that I love when I’m doing it, I’m pretty terrible at it, though. Nine days out of ten, when it comes down to it and I stop to think, I just want to go home and read a book or check in with Mr. J or some cats or something.

So, brain, what’s up with that? I love going to the gym and, yet, most of the time I talk myself out of it. I think that I’m bad at getting into habits so nothing in my life ever sticks. But this seems like a good time to start some best practices in my life now that it’s all cold and stupid outside. I can’t rush home and hang out with the neighbor on the stoop drinking beer, can’t flop in the last of the sunlight, can’t count on being able to watch the clouds float through our frighteningly blue Midwestern skies and I certainly could use the heat from working out to make it to my car.

Besides, the gym has a lot of really big windows and my favorite elliptical looks out over the bluffs, which the sun is quite fond of lingering over.


Where I come from, winter has always played a little coy with us. Sure, you’ll get the occasional nippy day in fall here and there but it’s only ever enough to make you think “Gosh! What a gorgeous fall day!” In fact, a check of the weather, thanks to the wonder that is the internet, reveals that Belleville, Illinois is enjoying a breezy 70 degree evening. It is, in Belleville, warm enough to grab a light jacket and eat on a patio somewhere. You can drink a sweet tea and sigh over how lucky you are that the weather’s held out this long.

Not so in Omaha! I work in a subterranean call center and, somewhere between one and two o’clock, it went buzzing through the center – it’s snowing. Did you hear that it’s snowing? It’s snowing right now. Mr. J sent me multiple texts on it (multiple, unprompted texts!), the callers from the area wondered at it, I popped up on a break to look at it through actual windows. And there it was. Snow, drifting down from the sky, lightly swirled by a bemused breeze. Ha, ha, Omaha. Winter is here. I am here.

I am, to put it lightly, not prepared for this. I took one look at my gym bag, packed for my triumphant return to the elliptical, and decided this wasn’t that day. I didn’t have my inhaler and the air was cold. I was wearing a thin jacket. I had on flats and not closed shoes and – gasp! There aren’t tunnels to the gym, I would have to walk outside. Mostly, it was that I didn’t have my inhaler and I’d definitely need a hit of that post-exercise and pre-freezing air. Either way, it was a little bit of a disappointment but baby steps to a better erin, people. Baby steps.

So instead, I’m home with a cup of tea and these here internets and I’m fighting the weird feeling that comes with the first snow. There’s always a part of me that panics the second the first snow starts to blanket the ground and I’m struggling to swallow that down. It’s only snow, it’s only cold, it’s only dark. I have coats and slippers and lamps to combat that. This will not be another winter spent half-mad or even a little tetchy. It’s going to be much, much better than that.