bound by symmetry.

I inadvertently took an extended absence from this blog, sorry, I was a little busy taking a break from my other blog…let’s just say I’ve had some writer’s block.

Anyway, now it’s a new year, so let me get you caught up to speed:
- Still in KC, working at a cute little store, making absolutely no money, and totally ok with it.
- My parents may not feel the same way.
- Subsequently trying to make big decisions about my future. Having very little luck.
- Just to clarify, those decisions have nothing to do with my hair, but since you brought it up, as always I am trying to figure out what to do with my hair.
- Got a new roommate, she’s great.
- Sweater addiction has gotten out of hand. Well, out of closet anyway.
- Switched from Diet Pepsi to Diet Coke. It happened really suddenly, and I was as shocked as anyone, as I have been so fiercely faithful to DP for so many years. But the heart wants what it wants.

So pretty much business as usual.

To My Future Husband,
If you want, we can go on really exciting adventures on the weekends, but I’m totally cool with laying in bed reading articles on wikipedia and watching youtube videos.
Love, Marion.

Interesting side note, I found this blog. I’m not saying he stole my blogging thunder or anything…but I am saying maybe we should get married. jk. or am I? jk.

but seriously.

This is undoubtedly the weirdest season of my life. Season in a metaphysical sense of course, as far as fall goes, it’s pretty typ.

But mostly I’m having a heck of a good time. Case in point: Love my house, love my roommate (and friend who is no longer a roommate but still has many things at our house) Love KC, although my pocketbook doesn’t (I’ve never said “pocketbook” before, and never will again) Love HAVING A JOB! And love my sweatshirts because PRAISE THE GOOD LORD that summer has ended!

Job: got one, didn’t say anything till I got through my first week. Just wanted to make sure it took. It did, and hopefully Christianity will take me back now.

More importantly, I read the ENTIRE Harry Potter series in 2 weeks which was both a great and horrible idea.

Ok, I’m over it.

In other news: I have a few deep questions that need answering and discussing. I wish the picture of my dad on my desk could talk to me, I know he would have the best answers.

Ok, I guess I wasn’t over HP, but now I really am. No more references.

Why isn’t it socially acceptable to wear cloaks?

DANG, ok, I’m stuck in Hogwarts, somebody get me out of here!

I suspect it’s a positive thing that I didn’t watch Dawson’s Creek as a teenager, I was angsty and over-analytical enough without any encouragement.

I’m not sure that it’s positive that I’m watching it now, however… In fact, I’m sure it’s not.

But it is cathartic. Oh boy, it’s all kinds of cathartic.

If ‘The DC’ (as I affectionately call it) has taught me anything, which it definitely has, it’s that:

1. I apparently should have cared/talked a lot more about sex when I was 16.
2. It should only take about two to three minutes to get completely drunk.
3. You need never worry about being in the wrong, there is ALWAYS a way to turn any situation around onto the other person.
4. I probably would have dealt with my last heartbreak much better had I had access to cluttered table tops or book cases to dramatically shove everything off of. The lack of said angry clearing tells me I haven’t really moved on.
5. Excessive eye-rolling and sighing is appropriate in any context.
6. I could and should be using the word “proverbial” much more frequently than I currently am.
7. It is completely socially acceptable to pretend to get over something for a couple of days, but then bring it back up again, especially when it doesn’t make sense to.
8. My past of having a crush for an extended period of time and nothing happening is misguided to say the least, what really happens is that you develop a crush on someone and later that day you kiss them, and sometime later that week you begin dating. How silly of me!
9. You must never read someone else’s diary.
10. On the East Coast you can drive on your lawn, and people won’t think you’re nuts. I’ll be moving there shortly. They also seem to have very short and ever-changing seasons, and alarmingly long days.

All of that being said, it should only take a couple of months at the most to totally alienate my remaining friends.

[cue the appropriate Jewel song; the camera is close-up on my face as I reflect on my life, joy and anguish equally present in my eyes The camera then pans away from me, across my room to my open window, the curtains gently moving from the wind. One can only assume it is the proverbial breeze of a new season.]

you better believe I would have had a crush on this joker in high school.

I’ve been watching a lot of Wizards of Waverly Place lately. I like to think it’s some sort of sub-conscious effort to go back to my youth or something. But seriously I think it’s just because Selena Gomez is hilarious. Regardless, when I start reverting to Disney shows, it means I’m a kind of bored you only read about.

Where do you read about extreme boredom?

I have no idea.

At least five times a day I come up with a new life plan. Most of them are totally outrageous and beg the question that I have a large sum of money, which if such were the case I would be actually doing these things, and not just scheming on how to do them. The problem with my degree, or one problem anyway, is that until I have at least a Masters I can’t really do anything with it. And of course, the problem with getting my Masters is that I’m not entirely sure I want to do this in the first place. Just when I thought the period of major existential life crises about who I am and what I’m doing where over, I found myself sitting in the biggest one of them all.

I discovered with all of my new-found free time that all those things that happened over the last few years that I shoved away into the back of my mind were unpleasant thoughts go are now surfacing. I kept saying “I’ll deal with this later when I have time to think about it” on the assumption that I would indeed, never have time to think about it. Now I have an abundance of time. It’s like regaining your sight after years of blindness or something. Every day is an emotional rollercoaster. And all of this crap from the past is only adding to the confusion about the future, “who am I going to be” turns into “who was a I before.”

I mean really, it’s a miracle I get out of bed in the morning.

I’m okay with it though, I made this bed, I will lay in it.

There’s a pun in there somewhere.

: )

Obviously its humiliating that I went to see the new twilight movie last night, humiliating that I’ve read all the books, and humiliating that there is no doubt that I will see the last movie when it comes out. All of that, however, is overshadowed by the fact that Jacob was in my dream last night. Naturally he was accompanying me to a conference in a large hotel lobby, where I was trying to deliver some sort of message to this guy I used to know, but I couldn’t find him because of all the conference attenders. Although Jacob’s shirtlessness did attract some attention, most people were too concerned about getting some of  the large party sub sandwiches to notice us, or be of any assistance. We were walking really slow and Jake was being really dramatic, but we finally found the guy. Unfortunately they started playing techno music so he couldn’t hear me, and by then we were already late to catch the bus, so we had to just leave.

I’m frequently delivering messages in my dreams. What does that mean? Should I work for UPS or something? Just kidding.

   + 

/  = ?

The movie, in case you were wondering, like the book, was horrible. And I loved e v e r y second of it.

To My Future Husband,
I like to discuss my dreams in the morning, they are generally based on whatever I was thinking about the night before. See above for any further clarification. Also, just so you know, I have been known to start laughing in my sleep, sometimes so excessively that it wakes me up.
Love, Marion

Better get back to work.

bahahaha. jk.

 Here is an interesting fact about me about which everyone seems to be confused; I don’t like rain. So getting mad at me when it’s raining = illogical. It’s true that I don’t like sun, and that I prefer cold and grey, but I don’t like getting wet if I’m not trying to (i.e. in the shower or at a pool party) ((a pool party? Who am I?)). Glad we’re all on the same page now.

I’m in my final days at the lib and I’m slightly concerned by the apparent lack of mourning by my coworkers about my impending departure. I was hoping for banners and pleas to stay, maybe even a few tears…But I understand, they’re grieving silently. That’s what I would do too I guess, hold it in, and then cry myself to sleep every night. I mean…I’ve never done that before…

But seriously, there is something sort of strange about your last days at a job. It’s sort of your whole life, or at least a big part of it, for however long you’re there. A lot of weeks I saw my co-workers more than my friends, and spent more time at the desk than on my own couch, but really I’m just a position, my replacement has been hired, and by the time I leave, she’ll know what to do, so nothing will really change. And on July 17th I’ll come in like I always do, sit at the desk I’ve sat at for 3 years, answer all the same questions, and then at 6 I’ll close, walk out the door, and that’s it. It’s funny, the things that start to feel like home over time. I should probably steal a bunch of books or make funny announcements over the PA system to celebrate.

Speaking of home, my home in KC is great, albeit boring. Obviously, as I am still working in Manhattan and have done very little (d0n’t tell my dad) in actually trying to get a job in KC, I really just sit around when I’m there. At first it was horrible, because when you go from having a billion things to do in a week to absolutely NOTHING to do, you’re brain implodes a little bit. I coped, as any one in my position would, but depression shopping. Depression shopping is quite dangerous. After a particularly sad November this last year, I acquired approximately 45 sweaters from Gap. The problem with this bout of D.S. is that I’m depressed because I don’t have a job, and therefore no meaning, but mostly no income, so in order to get out of the house, I go shopping. Then I spend what little money I have on things I really don’t need. Then I feel bad about spending money and getting more junk, so I go shopping to feel better. Needless to say, when I get evicted because I can’t pay rent, I will be a very well-dressed homeless person. So in an effort to beat D.S. I’ve taken to more home-bound activities, and inadvertently became the ultimate housewife to my two roommates. I cook, I clean, I decorate, I sew, I do little craft projects, I call family members to chat while spying on the neighbors, and if I don’t get a job soon, I’ll probably start doing Jayne and Sarah’s laundry and power-walking around the neighborhood. Good Lord, I might even start volunteering at the elementary school or something.

But when I start watching Soaps all day, that’s when I’ll start to get really concerned.

Okay, CONFESSION, I’m going to see Eclipse after work today. Am I excited? unbelievably. Am I ashamed? ABSOLUTELY.

Bahaha. Sick.

[Don't worry loyal fan(s), just because I've started a new writing venture, does not mean that this blog is done with. I'm sure you're elated.]

I just had a patron ask me to put a hold on a book, and as I was doing it he said “This was the first book I ever checked out from the library. I would like to read it again once more, before I die.”
I’m just not really sure how I was supposed to react to that, although I’m certain my blank stare wasn’t the most comforting choice.

I am very pleased to announce that, despite rumors indicating otherwise, I actually live at my new house now. It’s been a rocky beginning (double pun, but I’ll get to that in a second) but I’m here, my roommates are upstairs, it’s a lovely little home, and I am excited for the fun that is surely to be had here.

A. We live on Rockhill Road.
B. Someone threw a rock through the little window of our front door and broke in a couple weeks ago.

C. Disclaimer: we don’t live in the hood.

D. Second disclaimer: we were robbed, but no one was hurt, thank goodness.

Nothing welcomes you to a new city and a new phase of life like being burgled. But really, it’s okay. What is not okay are the roads in Kansas City, not their condition (although I have become accustomed to a certain standard of roads which Missouri apparently does not uphold) but rather the set up. First of all, every road has at least 7 names. Second, there are no straight roads, everything curves and merges, which would be fine, if they were marked with any of those 7 names they have, which they are not. Third, and most importantly, there is absolutely no simple way to get anywhere. I will grant that I grew up in a town which has one street that takes you basically anywhere, but I have left this town, and I have driven lots of other places, and I can report that nowhere else is as confusing as my new home. Basically, you just get in your car, destination in mind, drive around pretending you know what you’re doing until you see something that looks familiar, and eventually you get there. I suspect that is what even KC natives are doing most of the time.

Back on the Kansas side, I’m still working at the lib on the weekends. I claim it’s because I need the income (which, to be fair, is completely true) but in reality, I’m not emotionally ready to leave my occupational home of these many years, even though, as this blog would seem to indicate, I hate it a little bit…But every good and horrifying thing must come to an end. Today I signed a little sheet of paper declaring my resignation, and tomorrow my beloved boss is posting my job so that those vultures can swoop in on it. jk. I’m sure I’ll write more reflecting on my years as Marion the Librarian 2000′s later, but for now I’ll just say, I couldn’t have asked for a better job.

Unless that job was having rich parents who gave me lots of money, because I would have liked that more.

Every time the phone rings late at night, a shot of panic goes through my heart. I know it means one of two things; either there has been an accident, or someone just got engaged. I always hope it’s the accident call.