Friday night, I bailed on civilization, and instead spent the evening reading in bed and watching reruns (though Joan of Arcadia was on, and I hadn’t seen that particular rerun, and it was good). I stayed up later than perhaps would have been responsible, except that I had a 3-day weekend ahead of me and I didn’t have to wake up and go anywhere at all! Even Sunday! I was thrilled.

I woke up to the phone ringing at 10 am on Saturday (why I got out of bed and answered it, I’m not sure - I may have been sleep-walking). It was , wanting to know if I’d like to go with her to her parents’ house for the weekend. They weren’t going to be there, she had to house sit and feed the dog/fish, and go to a party. It took me the full half-hour she gave me to decide. Why was this so complicated? Mostly because I was looking forward to my long weekend, and had made a whole list of things I could do, including starting to work on refinishing the rest of my furniture, and make lasagna. Plus, I had bailed on Friday night and had promised to do something with her Monday. The idea of going away and getting away won out (plus, I’ve never actually been to ’s home in the nearly 3 years we’ve been friends, nor have I met most of her friends who were going to be at this party). I finished making Swedish Pancakes (I really have to post that recipe here for y’all), packed quickly, and then we were off.

Her good friend (best friend?) growing up, who is married to another of her good friends (who she actually dated for a while), was throwing a party for her husband’s golden birthday - 26. We got to the farm around 2:30, the birthday boy showed up around 4, and we stayed until one-ish. It was a unique experience, unlike any I’ve ever had (nor would I ever be able to have again without borrowing ’s friends, since I have none that are even remotely close to what they are like), and I’m not really able to describe it, except to say: I did have fun, was not horribly offended, was probably shyer than I should have been (and consequently people there might have thought I was a snob, as is what happens with shy people frequently), and managed to go the entire time without a sip of alcohol (though no one pushed me at all, everyone else was drinking and I was quite proud of myself and happy with them for the whole situation).

Sunday let me sleep in till noon, at which point she put a note on my door saying she was going into town. I stayed in her old room (and she stayed in her parents’, since she thought that might be weird for me), and it has an east exposure, and the sun just poured in all morning. I kept waking up, but it was good and warm and comforting. Spent Sunday reading - multiple trashy books instead of the good ones I brought with me. We did go into town (Willmar), and both bought pink fuzzy shoes. They’re so fun! Pink suede lined with sheerling, slip-on clog-types. We decided that since we don’t actually go out all that often together, we could own the same shoes. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to wear them until probably October, which is very hard for me since I like to wear new purchases immediately.

Monday involved more sleeping in (though only until ten), confusion over what day of the week it was (Sunday hadn’t felt like Sunday at all, especially with the sleeping in and lack of church), more reading, and Little Debbie (my find at the BigK, which I haven’t been able to find at Target or Cub, but today saw in one of the little marts in the Skyway - oh well). Got home around eight, the cats were happy to see me, unpacked, read some more, and fell asleep much later than I should have.

It doesn’t sound like much of a weekend, and I sadly didn’t take any pictures to prove it, but it was relaxing and a change of pace and scenery, and it helped the twitching in my eye (it’s now more of a flutter).

Since the weather is so nice today, I think I’ll stop at Target on my way home (OK, not really on my way home, but being limited to the bus as I am…), make some dinner, and then walk myself over to ProEx to pick up the pictures I ordered on Friday and thought I would pick up over the weekend (but didn’t, since I wasn’t in town). Maybe some more book-reading, some phone calls to parents (need to get a spritz-cookie recipe from ), some sunless tanning… my evenings feel so free without that second job. It’s not like I spent my every waking moment working - in truth, I had many nights home in front of the TV. But there was always a bit of tension about that, as if I should be working, studying or writing lessons or planning meetings or calling people ad nauseum. Now I look at a Tuesday night and I really have nothing to do but what I plan, what I design. My time is really my own now. It’s hard to explain, but I guess it’s the difference between having a job where you take work home and one where you don’t. And now I don’t.

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I am so glad I didn’t go out today until 2:30 (not even for coffee) - it’s 80* out, and I’m sure that if I had known that earlier I would have had a hard time not leaving early (especially since for the last few hours I’ve been catching up on PBS and doing the weekend’s crosswords).

More in a bit (got to each lunch, ya know)….

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1. Crowd:: -ed room
2. Hamburger:: with cheese
3. Choker:: outdated jewelry we wore in the early 90’s and thought was cool
4. Lights:: out
5. Tinsel:: tree
6. Testament:: new or old?
7. Best part of the day:: coming home
8. Election:: less than enthusiastic
9. Clarinet:: oboe
10. Cake or death: death by chocolate please

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Sometimes I find it so strange the issues which move my heart the most: AIDS, international adoption being two. They seem like such unlikely crusades, if that’s the right word, and I have no idea why they pull at my heart and break my soul. Reading Welcome to Sarajevo has been an incredibly emotional experience, and since most of it has been read in public places (bus rides, breaks during meetings, etc), I have had to stifle my own reaction often. Its the natural instinct of my heart, like when the tsunami hit Indonesia and news reports told of numerous orphans, and my thought was how glad I was not going to help out because I’d want to take them all home with me. (Don’t ask me where I’d put them.)

Not the musings I expected for today, considering my advising appointment yesterday and tonight’s picnic and goodbyes.

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I’m feeling quite brilliant at the moment. I figured out, with the help of a book and the built-in help, how to combine 12 spreadsheets into one, automate the date function so that entering it in one cell fixes all 12 spreadsheets, and created a macro to print just those 12 spreadsheets (there’s another 2 in the file) by clicking on a certain cell.

It makes one small little task I have much easier. Not that it was hard in the first place, but now it’s even easier. 30 seconds, that’s what it should take me now. Yay!

Of course, once upon a time I knew how to do that and so much more in Excel. Back in high school when I worked for the City (Utility Billing), one of my co-workers and I created a spectacularly complicated macro that did amazing things. I have no idea how I’d go about that now. I think Excel has changed a bit since 1994.

I’m still very proud of myself.

If you’re having a bad day, do yourself a favor: take a walk outside, preferably to the closest Starbucks to get some iced drink of your choosing, pause a moment in the sun, and only when calm, walk back SLOWLY to your office. If that doesn’t get you smiling, you really should just take the rest of the day off. Call it a mental health day.

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It is a gorgeous day outside - sunny with clear blue skies (though that may change by this afternoon, but at this point, who cares?), 60’s promising to turn into 70’s, weather where I don’t have to wear a coat and can wear capris and sandals and not feel stupid or cold. Wonderful. (Except for the tiny little part about being stuck in my cubicle all day, but I do get off early today for my advising appointment, so that’s a bonus.)

Yesterday when I sat down to write about the weekend, all the things I’d been planning on saying fell out my ear. Today, they reappeared while I was walking to the bus, kinda like that stupid magic trick with the quarter.

I woke up ridiculously early on Saturday - my first conscious moments were around 6 am. Why? That’s the ridiculous part. I had no reason to be up, and in fact had not gone to bed until at least 1 (went out with Friday night for Thai food and a movie, “Bridget Jones’ Diary 2” and got home late). But I woke up nonetheless, and lulled myself back to sleep by putting in “Love Actually,” one of my all time favorite movies. I saw most of it, actually, but fell asleep for a bit in the middle and woke up for the last five minutes, which are the best. The bit with Laura Linney and the Karl character always makes me a bit sad, just because Karl looks so much like that I can’t help but think about him. After that, I watched some Saturday morning cartoons and managed to fall asleep again. Upon waking (for the third time?) I fed the cats and fish and attempted to feed myself. I’d been debating whether or not to make Swedish pancakes, which is quickly becoming a Saturday ritual, or just an English muffin sandwich with bacon and a fried egg. The latter won out, simply because had borrowed some eggs Thursday night and I only had 2 left (pancakes take 3).

Then I cued up “Love Actually” again and watched the part I missed all the way through the end. I returned it to the living room and traded it for “You’ve Got Mail,” another all time favorite of mine. I did a half-a**ed job of cleaning until called and said she was about to leave to come over (we had plans for some “girl time”). Unfortunately, a roommate had just gotten in the shower (and I was kind ishy), so she delayed a bit so I could shower and be presentable. had gotten a gift certificate, so we went in search of the store. I was very proud of myself for finding it on the first try - it was in a neighborhood I’ve only been to twice and I’ve never actually been in the store - especially considering we didn’t have an address. We traveled up to her place so I could highlight her hair (did a much better job than the last time, which wasn’t worth it - barely made a difference), and I stayed for dinner.

Had an interesting conversation with her in the car. She said lately she’s been feeling depressed (which is not like her at all), and thought it might be the weather (up until Sunday it wasn’t sunny at all, and we’ve had a very cloudy, grey May), her husband is a bit down too, they’re both a little bored with their jobs, etc. We talked about how, at least for us, being depressed isn’t about feeling sad, but it’s about not feeling at all. That’s how it was with me for so many years. Nothing excited me, nothing saddened me, I was really just blah. Anger was the only emotion I really felt passionately. She completely agreed. Sometimes its just nice to talk about that stuff.

I need to keep reminding myself today that graduate school is nothing like college, especially when you go to a small Christian college where everyone knows you and the financial aid officer will go out of his way to keep you in school and so will your professors and you are generally loved and the center of the world. Graduate school is not like that. You must be a grown-up and take care of yourself, fend for yourself, and not expect to be coddled. I will remember. My adviser does not want to be my friend, she wants to get me in the right classes and assign me a new permanent adviser. I will repeat this in my head as much as I need to.

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There it went, so quickly.

And it ended so poorly, if this morning before work is considered weekend. But that’s later.

Had my last Sunday at yesterday, complete with cake and presents. More gifts to follow on Wednesday at the picnic, most likely. I turned in my keys and my credit card. The office has been empty. It’s… really freeing.

FYI: Kool-Aid does not have a shelf-life of 5 years. I’m not sure how much less it’s shelf-life is, but at five years, it took double the packets and it was still lacking in flavor. No worries, I have thrown out the rest of my five-year-old Kool-Aid (and FlavorAid!).

This morning could have been a case study in making me lose my cool. I nearly threw a fit (complete with yelling, throwing things, and tears). It started with multiple garbage trucks in my neighborhood (it’s been nice enough to keep the windows open overnight). Then both of the cats decided it was time to wrestle, WWF style. The took short breaks from that to use the litter box, which is incredibly noisy since I use the crystals stuff, which they still haven’t really adjusted to after six months. actually went in three times, including one trip just to scratch around and leave again. She’s got an unnatural attachment to her litter box. Then, when I was standing on the brink of sanity and insanity, the dog upstairs started in. He’s not fixed yet, if that gives you a ballpark of his age, and though he’s a little dog, he can sure make a whole lot of noise. I’m not exactly sure what he was doing, but the constant thumping on my ceiling for fifteen minutes was enough to push me over the edge. I finally got out of bed just to leave the bedroom - surprise, it couldn’t be heard anywhere else in the house. I nearly got to work half an hour early just so I didn’t have to put up with it (but eventually he stopped, and then I attempted to relax, so I got to work at the same time I usually do).

I really don’t like sounds like that - ones I have no control over. I could have taken the day off and called it a mental health day, that’s how unnerved I was at the whole thing. And people here today have repeatedly done stupid things and asked me to help them, which is not the way to my heart (chocolate, walks in the rain, playgrounds with swings, flattery, these will work, but stupidity will not, regardless of how charming you are, or think you are).

I just saved all of my files to CD and deleted them from my work computer. I’ve got the binder that I’ve kept here in my cube to take home and file away. I started shelving books from my office into my bedroom shelves, after cleaning off both chairs and the desk. Amazingly enough, though everything was piled high, I only came up with one grocery-bag of garbage and one paper-bag of shredded paper. Where did it all go? Not under the bed, or in the closet. Strange.

If you can tell, I’m still clinging to my sanity, but at times today its hanging by a thread. Conveniently, I got cash yesterday at , so I have money for coffee, and I got pizza last night, which made me very happy. I’d been craving thin-crust for quite some time now.

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1. Heimlich:: maneuver
2. Gesture:: wildly
3. Party:: till you drop
4. Cuddle:: bug
5. Room with a view:: Paris
6. Sebastian:: that movie “Cruel Intentions“
7. Ooooh:: ahh, pop-in-fresh dough
8. Sigh:: deliquesce
9. Two fish, three fish:: red fish blue fish, a restaurant that sadly closed before I was able to try them
10. Cake or death:: which one has more chocolate?

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What man tells a woman her eye shadow is not complementary to her skin tone, unless he’s:
a) sleeping with her
b) gay
c) stupid, or
d) clinically insane.

Seriously, I need some new co-workers.

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Is it strange that I find this attractive (see below for quote)?

“I spent the better part of an hour last night on myspace.com listening to the Audioslave record, then trying to figure out how to get my hands on the music. Not cause I’m such a frickin hacker but more to see if I could do it.

I downloaded a trial of the software from Macromedia to see if I could take apart the flash movie and see where the music was comin from. I got some info about the various sites it was pulling info from and even found some mp3 files, but they weren’t actual music. An hour later all I’d gotten was needlessly tired. I’d made some limited headway but nothing that resembled results.”

Seriously, though, computer-wise I have no idea how to go about what he was attempting to do. I wouldn’t even think of it. I like it when people know more about computers than me (though conceivably that’s not hard, but I don’t run into them very often).

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I don’t really like new things. I could do without many of them - they stress me out, at least the ones I have to experience alone. Today I have to take a bus I haven’t before, and it’s an express where you pay at the end (according to ) which I haven’t done before. I’m feeling whiny about it, can you tell?

On the other hand, I’m loving the new online picture thing ProEx has going for them. It’s so amazingly simple and easy - I upload my pictures, tell them how many I want, and in an hour they email me and tell me it’s done. I go and pick up, and don’t even need to pay, because I took care of all that online ahead of time. Freaking wonderful! The only thing I’m missing is the ability to have matte instead of glossy prints, but I’ll live. I’m working on a project for my departure from : I’m sending everyone (OK, 99% of the kids and all important adults) a card with a picture inside. It should be really cool, if I can get it done in time. I’m almost set for pictures, now I just have to write the 50+ letters. I know it sounds a bit insane, but when I went to ’s wedding in Boston last year, she and her husband Chuck wrote personal letters to every single attendee of the wedding and/or reception, and separate letters with gifts for those of us who were involved. It was mightily impressive.

I got my laundry finished last night, and cleaned off the floor, which had quickly become littered with purchases from the weekend and a guitar.

Things to do before getting on the 3:16 bus:

• Mail book to purchaser (thanks, Half.com!)
• Pick up photos at ProEx
• Change clothes (I’d rather change into jeans and tennies before the bus rather than after)

I have some work to do - I should go do it and enjoy it while it’s here, since will be out the rest of the week. “Bring a book” comes to mind.

popularity: 11%

So, my weekend was pretty busy. Friday night I went straight from work to meet for dinner. I’m very happy that the express bus takes me right from downtown to within four blocks of the Rock (church). didn’t get my email, so he didn’t meet us at Chipotle, and we didn’t meet up with him until after the service. and I went across the street to Muddy Paws afterwards for some yummy cheesecake (that did not make me feel good later that night, but perhaps cheesecake at 10 pm isn’t a good idea anyways). didn’t really talk to us all that much, which was only slightly disappointing.

I had more issues with the sermon than I thought I would - it’s a series on finding Mr or Miss Right, and the subject of dating has always been a favorite of mine (at least in a youth group, teach the kids to not have sex and be responsible and guard their hearts kind of way, and also in the Elisabeth Elliot don’t date but court and don’t do that unless you’re 95% sure you’re going to get married to each other kind of way). My main beef didn’t have anything to do with that topic, however. The Rock is fairly conservative, which normally isn’t a problem for me, but they don’t approve of women in professional paid ministry, or perhaps only in ordained situations (I’m not sure which and don’t want to misrepresent them). Sometimes the pastor just doesn’t know when he’s sticking his foot in his mouth. and I had the same problem last year when he spoke about the war with Iraq (I can’t find a post about it, so I must not have written about it). What he said wasn’t technically wrong, but the way it came out was… offensive, especially if you weren’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Friday night he kept saying “men” and stressing the word when he said it, and it was just… unfortunate that he did that. I wonder how many other women in the audience (or men, too, since there are those whose sensibilities are attuned) were offended by his remarks.

The general idea of his message was good, however nothing original. I’ve come to not expect originality out of church, though. I’ve been to a few too many services to expect that (roughly speaking, 1600 services, give or take - the average 27-year old, had they gone to church every Sunday, and not counting ages 0-7, would have gone to 1,040 services, assuming they never got sick or took a vacation, and went all through college, which is a huge assumption). It’s those four years of college when I went to chapel three times a week and to whatever church I was volunteering at on Sundays. Oh, and my church in Michigan and the I’m at for another 8 days, going to two services each Sunday. Needless to say I’m looking forward to a Sunday or two (or twelve) off. OK, I really wouldn’t take twelve off - church is far too large a part of my life to do that. But I will take a short vacation before choosing to attend the service of my choice (get the point?).

Enough about church.

Saturday I did sleep in, which was fabulous. Oh, I should say that taking the bus all the way from Uptown to my house at 11:30 at night was completely fine, and I couldn’t be happier. I was responsible and kept my headphones turned down low and made sure I looked at each person’s face as they got on the bus, just to be safe. No worries though.

So Saturday I got up around 11, drug myself to the market to get milk so I could make Swedish Pancakes (recipe coming soon, I promise). It’s becoming my Saturday ritual. I bought yummy bacon, too. Can’t get enough of it. Real bacon. Called the Salon, already told that story.

After my haircut and the memorable time spent with , I ran several errands, all by bus, and amazingly did it in a short period of time, or at least about the length of time it would have taken me by car. At some point, called to decide where to meet her for dinner. Her dad was in town for the weekend and we went out for Mexican, and then she took us to the Aquarium where she works on weekends. Sat and had coffee afterwards as the mall closed around us. Thankfully, she drove me home, so I was at my house by 10:30. This was a crucial part of my Saturday, since the choir director was picking me up for worship at 7:15 on Sunday morning.

Have I mentioned I gave the borrowed car back? I am, very officially, sans vehicle, and honestly, I’m loving it. I haven’t had to buy cat food yet, or a 24-pack of toilet paper, but life is good. The biggest concerns are getting to ’s apartment and ’s house, and the latter said she’d come pick me up, while the former and I can work around the problem.

Sunday started very early, which I was not happy about, but I was ready a full fifteen minutes before my ride arrived. I multi-tasked while there, playing in the band at first service, visiting both junior and senior high Sunday School classes, and then skipping the second service to prepare a final mailing about our picnic. Brought my guitar home in the back of the choir director’s pickup. I should have the office emptied of my things by tomorrow. Scary. was preaching since was out of town. The Personnel Committee also made an announcement about both of our departures and the party next week for that purpose. A letter went out just before the weekend.

It’s very official, now. I have eight days left. Seriously, it just seems so weird. And all my stuff is taken care of, which is even weirder. No last-minute rush to get everything in order.

Sunday afternoon’s adventure I’ve also already detailed, so I won’t go into that, except to say that there is a particular glute-ular muscle that I injured that still hurts.

On a final, shallow note, I’d like to comment on television. It is end-of-season time, which means spectacular episodes that keep me on the edge of my seat, and then four months of agony over what will happen next? I’ve seen some very good writing and plot lines. I have the last episode of Enterprise to watch still (so don’t tell me!), but other than that I’ve been able to keep up so far. Some of my favorite shows won’t be on tonight (CMA Awards), and there’ll be a double-up on Thursday at 7, so I’ll have some taping to do, but all in all I’m quite pleased with this May. This is good, since summer TV sucks. Land of Reality TV, here we come. I hate reality TV. I refuse to watch it. Blech. I’d rather read a book. Or do laundry. Or clean out the fridge. Seriously.

Speaking of which, I really don’t want to clean out the months of icky stuff in my fridge - wanna come over and do it? I’m about to the point of paying someone. You could make a few bucks!

popularity: 11%

“I must study politics and war, that my sons may have the liberty to study mathematics and philosophy, geography, natural history, and naval architecture, navigation, commerce, and agriculture, in order to give their children a right to study painting, poetry, music, architecture, statuary, tapestry and porcelain.”

-John Adams (2nd US President)

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By Saturday, I couldn’t wait anymore. It had been four months since I got a haircut, and Friday night after church I walked past the new salon at the end of my street and memorized their phone number. I called Saturday and scheduled an appointment for that afternoon. Not until after it was all set up did she tell me my appointment was with a boy, who we’ll now refer to as . Now, I have not had good luck with male hairdressers, and I’ve had at least a few to make this judgment on. Usually, you go in and tell them what you want, and then they decide what they want, and that’s what they do. This has result in my hair being much shorter than I wanted (2002), much bigger than I wanted (1992), or just… bad. But, I’d already made the appointment, so I decided to go through with it. I complained to about it before leaving, and she said not to worry, he was probably gay (which really, was the least of my concerns).

I got ready (which merely meant checking to make sure that my nappy hair I’d slept on was going to be vaguely presentable for someone to touch, which it was not, and putting on mascara) and walked the half-block to the salon (aptly called, The Salon - try Googling that one). I walk in, and there are not one, not two, not three, but four people standing around, waiting for my arrival. They’ve only been open a few months, and I guess they’re not too busy yet. I check in, and am introduced to . He is not gay, of this I’m fairly certain.

Sits me down, asks what I want, and then walks me over to the sink. He proceeds to ask me if I have roommates, a boyfriend, am married, have pets, etc. First of all, impressed that he thought I was old enough to be married, since at least twice in the last year I’ve been mistaken for a high schooler. He was a very good conversationalist. He decided that after giving me a cut, he wanted to give me a blow out, not with a flat iron, but actually blow-dry my hair straight. He saw this as a personal challenge. He really had fun with it, too. Since my hair is so thick, we joked about him needing to stretch beforehand, not needing to go to the gym later, etc. Funny guy. And he really did a great job - he was happier with it than I, but he’d never seen my hair straight (seeing as how we’d only met an hour earlier) and I have. Each piece he got done, he stood back and admired.

I realize that by now it sounds like he was, perchance, into guys, but really, he wasn’t. We talked about my working at church, getting to pick a new one, and he recommended his, which he goes to now after leaving the one that I think I will end up at (small world). We talked about conservative Christian churches in Minnesota and being conservative and being right (not as in right/wrong but as in right/left), or really being middle of the road which is considered right in Minnesota, land of lefts. Trust me, conservative Christians are not homosexual. Let me rephrase that - the GLBTQ community as a whole is usually much more comfortable with liberal Christianity than it is with conservative Christianity, and that’s a whole other discussion to have.

By this time, I’m trying to get a glance at his left hand to check for a wedding ring. Nope. He talked about his friends, and kept saying “I” this and “I” that, never “we.”

Then, he moves to straighten the front part (my “bangs” if you will). To do this, he stands directly in front of me, basically straddling my legs, and goes to work. You don’t have to think too hard to realize what is in my face at this point (cue me closing my eyes). He wasn’t doing it on purpose, or being blatantly suggestive or whatever, it’s just what he needed to do, I guess, but it was a little distracting.

The worst (or best, depending on your perspective) part was that at no time did he stop touching me. The scalp massage (and better than they do at Aveda) during the wash was just the beginning.

I’m sure he was just trying to earn his tip, and ensure that he has a repeat customer. He was entirely charming and worth going back to again. And for a $28 haircut, he spent an hour and a half on my hair, most of that straightening it.

The jokes about me wanting him to come over every morning to do my hair, that when my hair is finally long he’s going to regret having done this once, and that he had a good “first date” were a little too much for me to handle, seeing as how I so rarely interact with boys my age.

Without being crude, I will just say that I am happy to know guys like exist, and that has some competition now, even if it’s all only in my head.

popularity: 10%

Went for a little walk yesterday - ended up going just over 4 miles. My feet were very tired by the time I got home. I went down to the Minnesota History Center, since it was the last day for the exhibit on the American Presidency. It wasn’t what I thought it would be, but it was good. I guess I wished there had been more information about each specific president, but the exhibit was really about the presidency, not presidents. They did a good job of what they did, I think. I learned some things, and the History Center had a separate exhibit next door that was all about Minnesota and the Presidency, which was some local history I didn’t know, not being a local. I also walked through the Strange Days // Dangerous Nights exhibit, which was also a bunch of local history. It was weird, but good. Entertaining, even if in a sick sort of way.

Note: The Smithsonian Institute has some online exhibits to supplement the American Presidency traveling exhibit. They are the Hall of Presidents (portraits), and Mr President (profiles).

So back to my story. I walked to the History Center since it’s really not that far and I didn’t want to wait for a bus. I thought I would take the bus back, but then it was going to be a while before one came and there was construction near the stop, so I walked over to Walgreens. That was the big chunk of the walk, though the most beautiful as well. The Cathedral Hill neighborhood, especially the little alleys and private drives off of Summit Avenue, have some of the oldest and most interesting houses in St Paul. It makes me think of local aristocracy, back when we had that sort of thing.

Stopped at Walgreens (the Target I shop at has a terrible selection of red hair color, so I have to travel to the Walgreens, which I can’t get to by bus, well, not conveniently at least) to get some hair dye, and then walked back. All in all, not terribly eventful I suppose, and only two hours. Not once did I sit down, though. My feet were very, very tired, by the time I got back.

More news of my weekend later.

popularity: 9%