Coffee helps

Yesterday was a physically draining day. It was that time again for the yearly female exam, when they do all sorts of unspeakable things to various body parts and then send you on your way with only the promise of one follow-up phone call. You'd think they would at least offer to buy dinner. Especially after a twelve-hour fast, necessary because when they check your blood evidently you're not supposed to have any nutrients in it. But I fasted as instructed. I can never watch the blood-drawing process. The thought makes me light-headed. But the worst part was, without a doubt, the fast. No coffee? Are they out of their minds?! My appointment was at noon, but I was able to go in early and have the blood drawn so I could get on with the coffee intake. I should have just had them hook up a coffee IV while they had the needle in. I told the receptionist I was three hours early for my appointment because I wanted to end the fast, and she said that was fine, and then she added that most people bring coffee into the office with them so they can take a drink immediately after the needle exits their arm. Are we a country of over-caffeinated addicts or what? I'm not that bad though. My coffee was in the car.

Since I was poked and prodded in all sorts of medicinal ways yesterday, I figured that was reason enough not to workout. My body had been through plenty. Then last night Angela and I watched Cinderella Man, and that experience nearly gave me whiplash. We were snuggled up on the couch (with all four dogs...sometimes I don't know how we all fit), and I had my head on her shoulder. Angela is not the type that can sit still and watch a movie, so sometimes this turns into quite a challenge. She's INTO it. Since this was a boxing movie, every time she wanted Russell Crowe to hit his opponent with a right cross, she jerked, and every time she wanted him to duck she ducked. My head bounced right along with her sudden movements, and during the final championship fight when he ends up bloody, exhausted, and nearly defeated, I too felt like I had been tossed about for ten-plus rounds. Why not move my head? That would have been a detriment to the quality time. Physical sacrifice is worth it sometimes.

The writing bug

Angela is going to Austin tomorrow for our nephew Gavin's first birthday party, so I'll be spending the weekend alone. Poor Jenny. Actually, I'll be spending quite a bit of time working, so the time probably pass before the lonliness even has a chance to settle in.

I finished writing a book about sexuality and spirituality about a year and a half ago and my agent has been shopping it around to publishers since then, but hasn't been able to find a home for it. Par for the publishing course I suppose. We thought we had a publisher once because they were uber excited about the project after we queried them and sent an official proposal, but they eventually decided to pass because the book was written chronologically. My oh my that was disappointing. It's my life story with some other commentary about faith and sexuality matters, told from childhood to present. I guess I should have used flashbacks or something. Anyway, we've decided to move into the self-publishing process now, so I'll be working on that this weekend. I've found an editor and proofreader, and I may have a graphic artist to design the cover. Then we move into the book layout and printing. Then I will have to bust my butt to do the PR and marketing. But I'm thrilled that the process is finally in motion. I'm working on a second book too, which I've already decided is much better than the first. I just can't shut off the urge to write. So no matter how painful this publishing process turns out to be, I've already committed to doing it again and again. Insane perhaps. Or very very driven.

So in Angela's absense this weekend I plan to write, write, write. In addition to the book projects, I really need to work on an article that I'm writing for a local paper. I might even be able to finish it. For now, all I can say is that the footwork I did yesterday got me inside the mind of Tom Cruise, Kirstie Alley, and John Travolta. Fascinating stuff. More on that to come.

Further evidence of freakiness

I'm such a control freak. I realized to what extent yesterday when Angela and I were driving to church. It was dusk--that fifteen minute window when everyone realizes it's time to turn the headlights on--and rather than follow Angela's suggestion to put my lights on auto and let Pearl the Murano decide when she wants to turn her own lights on, I opted to turn them on manually. I want headlight control. Perhaps this doesn't make me a control freak. Perhaps I just have trust issues and I don't fully believe in Pearl's ability to detect darkness and do something about it. I drove Angela's vehicle one day last week (Onyx we call her) and Angela always leaves her lights on auto, but I switched them to manual out of habit. When we swapped vehicles again and Angela was on her way home from work, this small error caused her to drive halfway home in the semi-darkness before she realized her lights weren't on. Dear me. The effects of my issues are far-reaching.

Here's another insecurity. Yesterday I went to Ulta to buy shampoo and realized just how ugly beauty stores make me feel. All of the cosmetologists and cashiers look great with perfect hair and make-up, and then there's me, lumbering in with my men's Keen shoes on, faded Levis, and with messy curly hair that has been smashed down by headphones. I did leave my Kiss FM jacket in the car though so I wouldn't draw negative attention to the radio station. I just feel insecure around hotties, that's all. I always feel like they're judging my lack of hotness and wondering whether or not I'll ever get a clue. (Did you know the Pussycat Dolls are convinced that, inside every woman there is a Pussycat Doll just waiting to get out? I don't know about that. Perhaps there's an Ellen in some of us. Or a Pussycat Doll in cargo pants.) Thankfully, this judged feeling only lasts an instant. Once I'm back in Pearl and on the way home I'm thinking about how excited I am to see the puppies and eat a sandwich and I have no worries. Happiness doesn't come from hotness I've found.

Happiness doesn't come from being a control freak either. I'll work on that.

Training and Channeling

I started training a new broadcasting student today and she rocks. She's the coolest Nancy I've ever met. There are lots of sweet, reserved, golly-gee Nancys out there, but a nineteen year-old hip and happenin' Nancy is a rare find and I feel privileged to have run across one. Nancy is from the same training program as the last student I mentored (Tommy), and we'll be working together for the next couple of months.

It feels weird going to work and not doing anything live on the air. I'm still doing my shows that air in other markets and various other things, but I definitely feel like I'm in limbo land. It's an opportunity to hone my patience and trusting skills though and I will do my best to seize it. Angela said last night, "The more you enjoy this time, the more you trusted God." I love that. It's license to be stress-free and hopeful. Mostly I like it because she used the past tense verb and that implies this transition period will indeed end at some point. :-) I just have so much drive to do more with my life I feel like I'm going to bust out of my skin sometimes. I just have to find the right place to channel it.

I did actually bust some skin yesterday. I was sitting at the kitchen table working on the laptop as usual and I dropped something on the floor, but when I reached down to pick it up I forgot to make sure the neighboring chair was out of the way and I smacked my forehead on the corner of it and created a small bloody slit. Note to self...don't channel energy into the corner of a wooden chair. It's a learning experience.

Gauguin and Impressionism

Our day out and about in Fort Worth on Friday was fabulous. We shared fajitas and flautas at Joe T Garcia's, then went to the Kimbell Art Museum for Gauguin and Impressionism. We learned a million things about culture in the late 1800's and its impact upon art, and we became fascinated with Gauguin's perspective, so we bought a couple of books that contain his journals from his adventures in Paris, Copenhagen, and Tahiti. The last book we read together was Angels and Demons...we'll start soon on Gauguin's journals. I'm especially intrigued by artistic malcontents who become almost nomadic in their pursuits as they attempt to remain true to their vision, and Gauguin seemed to be exactly that. Can't wait to learn more about him.

Here's the quote of the day: "Moved by an unconscious sentiment born of solitude and savagery--idle tales of a naughty child who sometimes reflects and who is always a lover of the beautiful--the beauty that is personal--the only beauty that is human." --Paul Gauguin

If you're feeling reflective and contemplative.

A day in Funkytown

Cruz will be back tomorrow so this is my last day filling in, and tomorrow I just have to come in and do one thing that will take an hour at most, so Angela and I are going to use the time to go to the Kimbell Art Museum in Fort Worth. I love culture days.

We've been there once, but we just meandered through and checked out all the standard pieces and didn't see a separate exhibition. This time we have tickets for Gauguin and Impressionism. Our friend Suzanne said a really interesting thing about Gauguin at church last night during a discussion about perspective--that Gauguin was extremely willing to see things from a different angle and didn't approach anything with preconceived ideas about how it should or shouldn't be. How refreshing. The example she gave was, while many of the Impressionists had one opinion about the women in Tahiti, Gauguin chose to break away from the rest of the Impressionists and paint a different reality. So now my interest is peaked. The Kimbell Art Museum website says, "What Gauguin did was ceaselessly to question the nature of Impressionism itself. He asked questions of a movement that was itself always asking questions about the nature and role of art in modern society." Much love for the inquisitive type! And people who can effectively question AND paint...now that's somethin'.

This trip to the museum is actually a lingering present for Angela's birthday that was on the 9th. We're going to Joe T. Garcia's too! We've never been there and we've been told that we must go. So we'll get our fajitas on (and perhaps a margarita) and then try not to burp as we're appreciating beauty and creativity in the silence of the marbled museum gallery. Such challenges in life.

Madonna's Workouts

I'm doing Cruz's show again today and I came across this as I was writing the Kiss N Tell feature that airs at 11:50. Madonna is a workout fiend.

She's said to do between two and three hours a day of Ashtanga yoga and Pilates, plus swimming, weight training and cycling. All that dancin' has got to be a workout too. And she says, "I wish I were comfortable enough to look zaftig. But I choose men who like carved-out women, the can-you-run-for-the-bus kind of guy. I'm naturally inclined toward men like that."

Can-you-run-for-the-bus kind of guy? Like a dog? I don't get it. Maybe Guy Ritchie wants a woman who will chase him if he decides to skip town. Hmm. Anyway, Madonna's friends are worried about her because they fear she's working out too much and "whittling herself down to a stub." Is she doing it for Guy?

I love to work out and I can't stand the "pent up energy" feeling that lingers when I don't. Workouts are a release for me and they help me feel good, which gives me more energy and confidence to perform at work, do more at church, etc. It all starts with how I feel about my body. You know, when my pants are too tight the day is shot. I don't work out because I think that Angela will find me more attractive, although I'm sure if I totally let myself go and gained some extra fat rolls of pizza, beer, and peanut M&M's, she would notice. She wouldn't love me any less and I wouldn't love her any less, but I'm sure we might both suggest going for walks together and buying more lettuce. I wonder if Madonna and Guy have conversations about this.

I don't care if Madonna is whittling herself down to a stub. I'm sure it will be a hot stub. With those toned pecs and triceps, it's not like she's going to go Lindsay Lohan on us and become a sack of bones. I'll always be fascinated with Madonna.

Love the new Confessions on a Dancefloor CD! All of the songs are upbeat and great for workouts. Maybe she planned it that way.

The L Word - Season 3

Is it just me, or does this new season of The L Word suck pond water through a bent straw?

I keep trying and trying to get something out of it and love it like I loved the first two seasons, but so far I'm not sentimentally attached. After the first episode I thought maybe this was because there was very little chemistry between Bette and Tina. I chalked this up to the post-pardem struggle to renew the sparks and hoped for better in the second episode, but now I'm just thinking that the show has lost something altogether. Maybe it's the lack of effort to hide Jennifer Beals' real-life pregnancy. That has an impact upon the way I view Bette and Tina. But it's not just them. I need more chemistry between characters, whether it is Carmen and Shane, Jenny and Moira, or whomever. Dana and Lara have chemistry, but they have had such an insignificant storyline in so far this season, they haven't had the opportunity to reach out and grab us. Maybe their big storyline is coming. And Alice used to crack me up, but now that she's gone psycho she's just someone who sits out there in limbo land and loses impact, for me anyway. I know people process breakups in different ways and sometimes it's a serious mental struggle, but I think the writers did this to Alice just to create drama. Funny Alice is now pathetic Alice and I don't think it works as well.

I thought one of the things that was so cool about season 1, was commitment to the dynamics between close friends and partners, and now it seems like the commitment has shifted to Billy Blaikie's shows and other things that have very little to do with relationships. I don't know. I just don't need the show to be outrageous in order to be addicted to it, and it's almost as if the writers are convinced otherwise. At least we haven't had to watch any circus scenes in Jenny's imagination so far this season.

I'm not saying I won't watch The L Word. I'll watch every single episode religiously because I feel like there might be some compelling moments coming and I don't want to miss something that really resonates. But so far I'm disappointed. Bring back Alice in the Love Boat outfit I say. Focus on Dana's struggle with her own gay awkwardness. Let Bette and Tina be in love and be the backbone of the show. I'll be waiting...

Mild depression today

Angela and I are both in a mild funk over the Colts loss yesterday. The 13-0 start, the high hopes for a Super Bowl....Ugh. I became comatose after the game and couldn't respond to phone calls or text messages or anything. I'm sure these friends were just calling to see if I was still alive and kicking after the game, or if I had rammed my head into a wall after being given the gift of a Bettis fumble with a minute and a half to go, only to watch Vanderjagt miss the field goal that would have sent the game into overtime. He missed it worse than any pro kicker should ever miss one. Angela and I took our somber moods upstairs to play pool after the game, and after about two hours of pool and a couple of discussions about why life was still good, we decided we would choose to be happy despite the horribly disappointing end to the Colts magic season. We're choosing optimism. Dang it.

I'm actually more excited for our Super Bowl party now. If the Colts were in it I would be a terrible hostess. Everyone would have to make their own cocktail weinies and steer clear of the big screen line-of-sight, or risk getting a cherry tomato thrown at their head. But this way, I won't care too much about which teams are playing (unless it's the Seahawks. I like them.) and I will be able to more attentively manage the crock pot temperatures and keep a steady stream of sliced cheese coming. So it all works out.

One great thing that happened this weekend...I sold my first item on ebay. I'm an ebay seller now! And I want to sell everything in the house. Well, not everything. Even though it pains me greatly to look at the Colts paraphenalia right now, I won't part with it. Dang that unconditional love.

I'm just missing the horn-rimmed glasses

Several months ago I blogged about a broadcasting student named Thomas that I mentored though a broadcast training program, and Thomas and I just finished up this week. I sent his completed demo tape and critique back to the school on Tuesday afternoon, and about two hours after I did that I got a call from the school saying they had another student for me. Her name is Nancy, and I met with her earlier today and I'll start training her in the next couple of weeks. This is an independent training program based out-of-state, but I also have an opportunity to start teaching a real live broadcasting class at a broadcasting school opening soon in Irving. Gee, are the teaching stars aligning or what? I wonder if I have missed my calling.

I've always thought of myself as the worst teacher ever. I'm nothing like all the teachers that I loved growing up. They were semi-stern and I'm a pushover at times. They had patience and I'm always in a big toot to get things done. They had an ability to explain things in a way that everyone could understand, and I think I talk gibberish sometimes. But alas, the opportunities continue to arise. I'm not knockin' em--I'm grateful for the opportunities--I just don't feel all that confident, and since this is my online diary it's a good place to work that stuff out. One thing I know I need to work on, is being more firm in my direction and knowing when to communicate that something just isn't workin'. I'm always too worried about hurting their feelings. But then, being honest in a critique will benefit them in the long run. My boss, Patrick, is great at this. He lets me know when I've done a break on the air that sucked, but he never does it in a way that makes me feel bad. He just makes me want to get better. I don't know how he does it, but if I figured out what that special something is, I think I'd be a much better teacher. At least I'll have plenty of practice in the coming weeks.

If teachers wear long-sleeved layered tees, Colts jerseys, shirts that say "Keep Austin Weird", and clunky shoes that are often a half-size too big, then I've got it covered. Bring on the students. Just let them know what they're getting into.

Last day on Kidd Kraddick in the Morning

Today was my last day doing traffic on Kidd's show, so I'm feeling kinda weird. It's not like it's a shock or anything--it has been in the works for weeks--but now it's final and it changes the circumstances that I've had for about four and a half years. That's always a little scary. I absolutely loved being a part of Kidd's show and I will miss it, but as I have blogged before, identity and joy are independent of circumstances, and I'll move forward with that conviction in mind.

Goodbyes usually make me want to take off in a dead sprint to avoid the finality and runny mascara potential, so the last two breaks with Kidd today were hard for me to get through. But he said some incredibly nice things and I was happy I stuck around. You know I'll be be burning those breaks to CD and locking them away in the big vault of radio memories within the next 24 hours. (Actually it's not a big vault...more like a small accordion file.) I have a ton of respect for Kidd as a radio professional, and even more love for him as a person. He's just an amazing talent with a huge heart...one of those people you just learn from every day. I'm happy that God intersected our paths.

So now, instead of getting up at 3:30am, I think I'll sleep til 4:30. Score! I still have to get up and do my shows that air in other markets, and since they all start at 10am I'll still have to be at work early. That doesn't really bother me. I'm a morning person. And I'll do shows for Kiss FM in Dallas whenever they need me...this Friday and Saturday for starters. There are some other things in the works too, and when one of those locks I'll mention it here.

Thanks for caring enough to check out this blog. And if you're one of the people in whom I've confided over the past couple of months, thanks for your prayers. Kidd is right. I'm God-centered. And for me that means being profoundly affected by even the slightest movements of goodness and generosity. So thanks for caring. I love you! I'll win that I-love-you game of Kidd's yet. Seriously, thanks. I feel the love and I know good things are coming.

Have a good circus...

Tight pants aren't necessarily sexy

I think I've said this before, but it has been reinforced for me today so I'll mention it again. My mood is directly related to how tight my pants are.

Yesterday I was feeling great--probably because I had to work on Sunday and didn't have time to pig out like I usually do on an NFL Sunday--but today I'm stuffed and suffering from restrictive denim syndrome. I didn't think pants could get this tight in a 24-hour period. We had a great time last night at Cantina Laredo, but I think I ate my weight in cheese. We started out with chips and queso, but by the time we were finished I had eaten quesadillas, mini tacos with a queso drizzle, some bean/cheese/chicken nachos, and other random cheesey things that two margaritas convinced me I desperately needed.

After all twelve of us at dinner had been grazing for about two hours the wait staff did the happy birthday song and dance for Angela and brought out a really rich brownie with whipped cream on top. Angela took the first bite of course and passed it around, but I finished it off. I had already eaten plenty, but I could have sworn I felt a slight twinge of lingering hunger underneath all the chicken and cheese that I had already consumed, and I decided I couldn't let a perfectly good piece of chocolate go to waste. Wow. I'm swollen today. But I'm still excited for lunch.

Four days to deflate, then it will be time for weekend over-eating again. I can't wait. We have a party to go to Saturday night, plus the NFL playoffs will be on both days and that means wings and beer. I've tried to hold back with the Colts love because I don't want to beat you down with it, but GO COLTS!! I have a good feeling about those boys.

Happy Birthday Angela

Today is Angela's birthday. Yay! Since it's a weekday and we won't see each other much today, we celebrated over the weekend. Even if we were both off work today I probably would have given her the presents early. I just can't keep a present secret. I gave her a PlayTV Real Swing golf game way back on December 29th because I wanted her to be able to start playing over New Year's weekend. She loved it and it's loads of fun swinging a club at an invisible ball in the living room, but it counted as premature birthday joy. I guess that's not a bad thing. But I also won an ebay auction for this golf game because I feared that I wouldn't be able to find it in the store, so now we have two. Anyone need one?

Since I gave her the golf game early I started worrying that she wouldn't have enough stuff to open on her actual birthday, so I bought more stuff. Such a viscious cycle of giving. So I bought her a lot of shoes. I guess I'm obsessive about things and once I get excited about something I focus in and go overboard, and shoes are the latest target of my obsessive binge tendency. Plus Angela needs them and she never buys them for herself. She loves Crocs and I think they are the weirdest, most hideous shoes ever. But they are comfy, I have to admit. So I bought her a second pair. While I was in Dick's looking at Crocs I noticed some sweet Keens on the clearance rack so I bought those too. To make a long story short, I decided I wanted a pair of Keens too and since it was Angela's birthday and not mine I ended up buying two pairs of Keens for Angela and only one for me so she would get the sweeter deal. But it's still wrong for me to score some sweet new thing on her birthday I think.

Since she opened all of her presents prior to her birthday, I started worrying that today would be less than special. So I cut and pasted a picture of a Gaugin painting in an email and asked her to sneak away with me to the Kimbell Art Museum in Fort Worth some afternoon since the exhibit is there through March. We love art. And that's a fun gift for her to open today via email. I had been planning it for awhile and the email was more fun and romantic than I'm making it sound, but I have a hard time regurgitating that stuff and it's much easier for me to just say I did it. It was filled with love and goodness though, I promise! It will be a great escape, and now her birthday can last for even longer.

Cantina Laredo in Frisco tonight for more celebrating. This birthday is fun for me too.

Snortin' dogs

I had to take two of our four schnauzers (Marlee and Pierre) to the vet a little while ago for their yearly shots. That's always an adventure. They aren't the most demure creatures and they think every room that they have inhabited for more than 45 seconds has become their territory, so when they see other dogs they immediately start whining, barking, and snorting until they become certain I know their space has been invaded. I have them on leashes of course, but those do nothing to silence them or deflect attention.

At one point everyone in the waiting room was completely engrossed in a show on Animal Planet about a doggie rescue officer who saved a puppy from a neglectful owner's back yard, and just as the officer was about to explain the untimely death of another puppy in the same backyard, a woman and her greyhound exited from one of the exam rooms and Marlee and Pierre's whines snorts jolted us back to reality and we missed the end of this frustrating and tragic story. Perhaps it's best. I usually have to plug my ears and sing dee-dee-dees during animal abuse/death stories and if I would have heard the end of this story I probably would have been scarred for life. Happy puppy thoughts, happy puppy thoughts...

At one point the vet swabbed Marlee's ear and pulled out a huge chunk of balled up black gunk that was completely disgusting and utterly fascinating at the same time. Who knew she had that much storage space in there. That ear had been sensitive ever since she and Sophie got into a fight a few weeks ago, and the vet said bacteria from another dog's mouth could very well be the cause of the infection. Geesh. I hope Sophie is sorry for Marlee's pain, not to mention for adding another $40 to our vet bill. A glance under the microscope and gunk-fighting eardrops are pricey.

I don't know if we're prepared for human children. Perhaps it's the same type of adventure, only instead of watching Animal Planet in the waiting room we all watch Noggin. And we probably wouldn't use leashes. How will we know if we're ready for babies? Perhaps Marlee needs to get chicken pox next. That would be a great test. Kids.

The greatest game ever!

I'm headed to Academy in a little while to pick up some National Championship gear. What a great day for the Longhorns! I wish I was back in Austin sitting underneath this monstrous 1. Yay Horns!

Hook em Horns!

The odds are stacked against us. USC has won 34 games in a row, they are the reigning national champs, they have the two most recent Heisman trophy winners, and some say they could be the best college football team of all time. But dang it, I believe. Underdogs win all the time and I believe the Horns are going to do it tonight. During a local break on Kidd's show this morning I said Texas 34, USC 31 and I'm sticking to it. Oh, and did you catch Kidd's prediction four minutes later on the national network? He said, "Texas by a field goal in a high-scoring game." Prediction stealer.

I loved what Mack Brown said yesterday. He said a lot of teams might try to be something they are not once they get to this level (I suppose to show that they can pull out all the stops and please the critics) but the Horns believe they can win by being who they are and by being true to the form that they have been successful with all season long. I love the just-be-you attitude. A philosophy to live by from Mack Brown. Be you, Horns! Just don't turn the ball over.

The Horns won the Rose Bowl last year in that huge comeback win over Michigan, and I remember Vince Young saying at that point that they would be back for the national championship this year. Defending Rose Bowl champs. They must be so pumped. I am too. Game on!

The patiently anxious blog

I'm at a crossroads in my life. It's a fork in the road between wanting to soar to new heights and contribute to the world on levels greater than I have ever known before, and wanting to wear nothing but NFL t-shirts and flannel pants and sit on the couch all day. Perhaps it's just a holiday hangover talking and the desire to maintain the continuous rotation of flannel pants will fade as we get further into January. The weather is beautiful, but even as I write this I'm sitting on the couch in a gray Cowboys t-shirt with a schnauzer curled up in my blue flannel-coated lap. It's a cozy place to be and I think I could stay here forever if only this nagging, insatiable desire to do more with my life would just go the way of most New Year's resolutions and fizzle out. As much as I would like to be sometimes, I just don't think I'm cut out to be a slacker. I tried it in college for awhile and gained twenty pounds. I guess having drive and passion is preferable. It's much easier on my Levis and baby tees, that's for sure.

I don't make New Year's resolutions. It works best for me to muster up tiny bits of resolve all year long in an effort to become better each day than I was the day before, than it does to set my sights on one grandiose thing that I want to accomplish. There are days when I'm way worse than I was the day before and I think my own tiny bits of resolve are a bunch of hooey, but most of the time this philosophy puts me on a steady path toward self-improvement and I'll commit to it again this year. I just wish I knew what that meant for me professionally. What's next I wonder.

Is it normal to feel like you aren't contributing everything you should be contributing to the world? Angela and I talk about that sometimes. We both have jobs, we both volunteer at church, and I have a website that I hope offers encouragement to the people who run across it, but neither of us feels like we're living up to our full potential. (My flannel pants and slippers just started putting off a new intermittent, pulsating glow as if to say, "Maybe you should start with clothes you would wear in public silly." Duely noted.) All of this is probably part of the growth process. Opportunities to live up to our full potential and to give to the world beyond our current capabilities will continue to arise as we become ready. In that case this itch to do more must signal that I'm on the edge of some cool new opportunity and I will just have to be patiently anxious (is there such a thing?) and wait to discover what that is.

I think I'll give myself until the end of the week to launch out of flannel pants mode. Besides, the Rose Bowl is on tomorrow night and cotton helps me cheer with more conviction. Hook em Horns! I can't wait.