I think everyone on my block who has a porch is having a party. Well, except me. It has been another gorgeous spring weekend – and again, I have spent it in the kitchen at Aroma. In a moment I think I might open a bottle of wine and take a glass and a book out on the porch – that seems like a good way to spend the waning hours of another Saturday night in Champaign. Tomorrow my house will be full of people – tonight it’s just quiet, save the noise from my neighbors.

It’s come as a surprise to me that in my mid-twenties I am embracing all sorts of ridiculously girly things I would have laughed at five years ago. I have a drawer full of halter tops. I want drawers full of lingerie. And tonight I bought my very first pair of stilettos. They are red and open-toed and have a little buckle. They are wildly impractical and totally fabulous.

It feels like there’s a change coming in the wind. It feels like my life is changing again. It feels like I am changing again. I didn’t see this coming. Strange.

Ben Folds was hella random. That’s all I have to say about that. Oh, and the rows in the balcony of Foellinger Auditorium were NOT designed for people with long legs. And a thousand people harmonizing sounds really incredible, whether they’re doing it right or not.

I, on the other hand, am feeling really lame and emotional. I started crying when Ben played “The Luckiest” and couldn’t stop for a long time. I feel really mixed up inside, and I don’t know why that is. My day at work was shitty, and while Aleksondra’s husband’s opening at Aroma was cool, I felt way out of my league. I don’t feel like I’d ever fit in with that crowd, even if I could get into the program. I feel a great fit of self-loathing coming on, and I’m trying to fight it off – I just don’t know how. I’m trying to bite my tongue to keep from saying a whole slew of dumb things that I know aren’t true that I would say just to get attention. I hate feeling like this.

Santa for the twentysomething

I don’t know what’s gotten into me these days. I’m restless and tired and I feel like I’m in transit, in limbo. Not like before, though, when my whole life was on hold. Nothing like that. Not uncomfortable, not ill-at-ease, just as if I’m sitting on a bench waiting for my train to arrive and it’s taking its own damned time. Waiting to hear from the lawyer. Waiting to hear from UIUC. Waiting for my birthday. Waiting for things to be right.

And at the same time my friends are dealing with things – job changes, job possibilities, relationship changes, moves, school, friends in jail, friends not getting along – and I want to be there and do what I can. It’s too bad I can’t be a professional empath cos I’m damned good at it. I’m good at the stopping, the stepping back, the reasoning through – for everyone by myself. Do you think I could do that for a living? Just set up shop in some coffeehouse and charge people by the hour to talk? Not therapy, per se, just a listening ear. And you know what, people would pay. Sad but true. I want to have the right answers for everyone. I want to say the right thing and help the people I care about. I want to wave my Tub Tints bath wand and be Santa for the twentysomething, as Amanda once described me. And I want to not worry about these things either.

But right now I guess I’m just in a funk. I need a vacation. I love my apartment, but I want to not be here for a couple of days. I want a few days off work – all my friends have been on break the last couple of weeks, and I’m wicked jealous. I’m not eligible for vacation time until April – APRIL – but when it comes around, I’m definitely using it.

And a little of me is regretting not paying the rest of the layaway and getting my lovely bike – not that I could use it right now or can really afford a $900 bike. It would just be a toy that could take me places, I guess. And, oh yeah, the RAGBRAI is definitely out for me. No bike, no money, no vacation time, no team. Maybe some other year.

I think a big part of this malaise comes from the fact that I have nothing in which I can lose myself. Sarah and Hannah have their work and their boys. Shawn has video games. Amanda goes out and parties with friends. Jen has a million jobs and the blessed herb. I sit on my butt at work all day, surfing the web cos there’s nothing else I can do. I come home and cook, clean, putter around, and find excuses to spend time with my friends. I don’t watch much TV, I don’t watch many movies – I read a lot, but I haven’t read anything that I could lose myself in lately. Time alone is good for me – I know it – but time spent just stewing is not.

Resolution #4389: Get a life.

I really feel that if you trust in your vision and pursue that which moves you, the work will come to you.

Two absolutely brilliant finds today: stupid creatures and monster factory. I am totally in love with these bizarre little beasties and may have to make my own.

I spent a lot of time reading Keri Smith’s blog, which never fails to lift my spirits and encourage my creativity. Regarding self-promotion: I may be going out on a limb here, but lately I feel these things need to be said. Our culture focuses way too much on “how to make money”, instead of “how to live well”. I really feel that if you trust in your vision and pursue that which moves you, the work will come to you. Regarding finding your true vocation: I think you have found your true calling when you start to do your work and then begin to feel like you are goofing off all the while…Do not limit your play time as an adult! Your best work comes directly from there…I’m speaking of the old fashioned get down on the floor and colour your brains out. I don’t believe that anything called “work” should have to be painful. I’ll get off my soapbox now. I just wanted to remind you that you’re allowed to play. And to hang your work on the fridge when you’re done. Her site is so charming. It just makes me smile.

Tonight: chicken parmesan, some pasta, and 24 with that boy. Sarah’s found some small work for me, so that’ll help with the current lack o’ funds. I never thought about pimping out my grammar skills. God, what an awful sentence. Let’s add that to the “don’t put on the resume” sheet, along with my video game prowess, Puzzle Pirates, and, um, bedroom skills.