Yes, I *was* in need of a new crush.

I love scary movies.

What's more, I love Scott Speedman.

Put 'em together, and you have a happy April.

Linky linky!

I really love this Web site, which features prints by annejulie. Beautiful pictures. This one is my favorite, inspired by the witch in Neil Gaiman's Stardust. It's titled La Sorciere Noire (The Black Witch).

Look! An ode to Jim from The Office!

Awww. She looks like my little Jersey! This is from the same site as Jim. In fact, there's tons more prints inspired by pop culture. Check it out!

Your daily cute

The circus came to town today. Aaron took Aaliyah and Amanda took Jersey for their first glimpse of circus life, complete with elephants. Aaliyah fell asleep. haha

I let Amanda borrow my camera, but she's apparently really terrible at photography. They're all blurry. But here are some shots of the girls after Auntie April came over later in the afternoon. Grandma (my mom) had found an old trampoline that she used to use for excercise. Now it's for toddler-cise.

Don't you wish you had this kind of exuberance?

I don't know if she was in the middle of a sneeze or what, but Jersey's face cracks me up.

Aaliyah Bediah (kinda like Amelia Bedelia)

Ready for a trip down the slide ...

And climbing right back up again!

Jersey's new Scooby-Doo that her mama bought her at the circus. She carried it around all afternoon ... even down the slide!

It was a good day.

"There's something strange in the neighborhood..."

There were multiple local UFO sightings Monday evening. No shizz. My friend Pete at the newspaper where I used to work accompanied a reporter to sketch what witnesses had seen. Here is his awesome artist's rendering:




And on Tuesday evening, my aunt Barb and I went to a local library for an author's presentation. His name is Chad Lewis, and he's co-author of a line of books that feature haunted locations in various states. I purchased a copy of The Wisconsin Road Guide to Haunted Locations. It breaks up the state into different regions and gives both local lore of locations, plus the actual history and results of any investigation they did. Big shock, most of the ghost stories end up having no factual evidence to support their claims. I guess that just makes it all the more special when the authors/investigators do find unexplained phenomena.

Lewis' presentation was interesting. He had a slide show highlighting stories around the Indianhead region. My aunt and I were two of the most normal people who showed up. And why, WHY do I always end up sitting in front of freaking big-mouthed idiots? Whether it's at a concert, the movie theatre, etc., the person(s) behind me always pisses me off. Throughout the author's presentation, Gabby McShutYourPieHole flapped her lips to her friend Rudie VanJerkface.

Last Sunday, my sister and I went to an auction/concert to benefit a local library and senior center in its need to combine forces and inhabit one building. In the silent auction, I had the winning bid on a locomotive ride for two. It's only about an 8-mile ride, but I'm taking Jersey because she gets so excited every time she hears a train go by.

Truly, truly, truly outrageous!

Dude. You know what I miss? Jem and the Holograms. That was like the best cartoon ever. And as much as I loved Jem, I think it's funny that I ended up with a Stormer doll. Storm was in The Misfits, arch rivals of the Holograms. I wish I still had that doll. I don't know what I'd do with it. Maybe put it on my desk at work, just for the hell of it. A daily reminder to be a little more misfit-y. (That's totally a word.)

And now, an open letter to John Mayer

This morning, I woke from a lucious dream where I had been dating John Mayer. He was very sweet and funny and wonderful. Which made waking up more miserable than normal. Then as I brushed my teeth and began the morning ritual of making myself presentable to the world, I formulated a letter to JM in my head. I snorted in laughter several times. Then I thought, I should post it on my blog! Because, really, what the hell else am I going to blog about? This may even be the first in a series of open letters to my dream boyfriend. Prepare thyselves.

Dear John Mayer,

You don't know me, but we had a totally awesome relationship in my dream last night. We held hands and shared an ice cream cone, which equals true love. Now, I know you don't really know me, but that hasn't stopped me from envisioning our first date.

We would meet in some neutral area, or possibly some place predetermined by your staff members to avoid cameras and publicity. You would be hot, of course. I would be ... uh ... well, I'd show up! We would shake hands, and my face would be bright red and I'd look down a lot because I'd be painfully shy. I would most likely stammer as I tried desperately to think of something witty to say. Then I would apply chapstick 13 times as it's a nervous habit.

Awesome, right? Let's continue to our conversation. I know you're wondering what we could possibly have to say to each other. Let's just assume that I've already told you how much I love your music and how it's the only music I turn to when I need to feel understood. I will bite my lip to keep from mentioning the green swimsuit debacle. (I still haven't determined whether it's hot or not. Funny, yes. Hot? I better go look at it some more.)

We may continue talking about music for a while as we're getting to know each other. I would suggest that you listen to some of my current faves, like Andrew Bird and Margot and the Nuclear So & So's. Then we might chat about blogging, since we have that in common. I'd tell you how I wrote on my blog about my friend Krista and I at your Valentine's Day concert in '07. I would refrain from mentioning that I was surly because Jessica Simpson had also been in attendance.

As we get more comfortable with each other, you'd tease me about all the times I've written about you on my blog. (Seriously, I'm a little embarrassed. Just type in "John Mayer" in the search blog box at the top of the screen.) I'd playfully slap your arm, then my face would turn bright red again, and an internal discussion would frantically begin in my head. "Oh, my God, I just touched John Mayer! Don't smirk, don't smirk! But he's so warm and boy-y. Must touch again. DON'T DO IT!" And on it would go. It's tough being a girl.

I would change the subject and ask if you've ever played SingStar on Playstation 2. If you hadn't, I would then proceed to tell you how awesome it is. If you had, I'd compare which songs were fun, which sucked, and which made everyone crack up with laughter.

We may talk about more serious things. I'd nod a lot at things you say and repeat "Exactly!" I may even mutter buzz words such as "economy" and "health care" to make you think I totally knew world events. Not because I want to deceive you, but because I don't want you to walk away from the experience thinking I was a complete idiot.

And oh, how we would make each other laugh. Be careful, John Mayer, not to snort with laughter as you drink something. I've ruined many a person's shirt due to my ill-timed hilarity.

I don't know where we would go from there, but I think that's a lovely start to a first meeting, don't you? Perhaps you can fill me in (that's what she said!) on how the rest of the evening would go.

Until the next dream-inspired letter,
love,
April

"I put a map up on my ceiling to fight that lonely feeling."

Some of you know this by now because I've whined enough about it, but for the rest of you, here's a little bit of news. My hours at the newspaper were drastically cut, so now I'm down to fewer than 15, probably. Which means I had to pick up shifts at my old job (the one I quit because of the hours I was promised at the newspaper). Three jobs, people. Three.


I won't go into detail about the happenings at the newspaper, other than three new people have been hired and one of them gets my desk. Essentially, there's no room for me.


So today I started back at the CA library for my first shift since leaving last fall. It's a bummer, to say the least, especially since I was able to walk back and forth to work with the other jobs. Now I have to drive 8 miles.


I complain about working in a library, but there are things I enjoy about it. I like being the first to know about new books, and I really like helping people find books to read by authors other than Nicholas Sparks. Or ones that Oprah has told them to read. I enjoy researching answers to reference questions and finding that desired item from another library system.


However, there are many more things that I greatly dislike. Such as the crowd of junior high kids who converge upon the computers and shriek and scuffle and harrass each other. Or stare blankly at me when I say hello. Or the adults who stink to high heaven, either before or after using the bathroom for half an hour. The demands on my time to show them how to use Yahoo! Messenger (I refuse to do it anymore) or how to create an e-mail account. The stupid questions for which I simply have no response: "What's my e-mail password?" "Can you type this up for me?" "Why can't you just buy it on eBay for me with your credit card and I'll pay you in cash?" Because, Amish man, that's not what your librarian is for.


I'd love to find a full-time job and move someplace new, really I would. I'm not afraid of starting over or being in a place where I don't know anyone. (I secretly fantasize about it all the time.) I am afraid, however, of what will happen to my grandparents if I leave. And what would I do without Jersey in my life? What if I move to some new state and no one ever comes to visit? What if they all forget about me? What if I hate it there as much as I hate it here?

So true. So true.

And my life is complete again

New Kids on the Block have reunited, my friends.

A new era is upon us.