Ordering iPods

Karma strikes again. I accidentally ordered a $399 iPod and $45 worth of books from Amazon.com.

Why me?

I received a number of Target gift cards for Christmas and am planning on buying an iPod. But I wanted to check the price at Amzon to see if it was cheaper for me to buy it there. They had a sale where you had to put the item in your cart in order to see the price. So I did. I also had some books in my cart that I was saving, but ended up buying them at the airport.

I saw the Amazon price of the iPod and decided it was cheaper to go with Target and my giftcards and exited out of the site. I never once clicked "buy."

The next morning, I woke up and had two emails waiting in my inbox telling my that $459 had been charged to my Mastercard and my Amazon shipment was on its way. GAH!

Thankfully, I returned the iPod without problem. The shipment of books is already in the system, so I'll have to return them manually. But seriously? How does this happen?

On a sidenote, I took a personality test twice (gotta love the internet) and my results both times:

You are a SRCL--Sober Rational Constructive Leader. This makes you a Ayn Rand ideal. Taggart? Roark? Galt? You are all of these. You were born to lead. You may not be particularly exciting, but you have a strange charisma--born of intellect and personal drive--that people begin to notice when they have been around you a while. You don't like to compromise, but you recognize when you have to.You care absolutely nothing what other people think, and this somehow attracts people to you. Treat them well, use them wisely, and ascend to your rightful rank.

You are a SECF--Sober Emotional Constructive Follower. This makes you a Hippie. You are passionate about your causes and steadfast in your commitments. Once you've made up your mind, no one can convince you otherwise. Your politics are left-leaning, and your lifestyle choices decidedly temperate and chaste. You do tremendous work when focused, but usually you operate somewhat distracted. You blow hot and cold, and while you normally endeavor on the side of goodness and truth, you have a massive mean streak which is not to be taken lightly. You don't get mad, you get even. Please don't get even with this web site.

I think both are a fair assessment.

Instant Karma's Gonna Get Me

So, I think it's been officially decided that I have the WORST luck with paperwork. I have good luck when it comes to important things (friends, travel, car accidents, etc.), but anything involving paperwork ultimately ends up as a major ordeal in my life. Nothing is simple.

For example, registering for classes is never just a simple point and click. Something in the computer system will inevitably not allow my password to work and I'll have to call to register. Or getting my student loans to go through always takes extra legwork because someone always loses my applications. Work is constantly losing my time sheets and reports. Computers crash. Banks lose checks. Bills come late to me.

At least all the paperwork eventually gets sorted out. It just seems like nothing is easy the first time for me.

Case in point: Elisabeth's Luggage. When I arrived in Tucson, I stand idly for 30 minutes at the baggage claim to discover that the suitcase filled with my Christmas gifts went missing somewhere between Dulles and Tucson. I wasn't worried--I knew it'd come back to me. I filled out a missing luggage report and went home after being told the bag would turn up later that night and be returned to me between 8-10 the next morning after a phone call.

That next morning, I wake up at 11:17 to discover my bag still not here nor a phone call. I look on the printed handout the customer service man provided me and realize my phone number is wrong. I call AA to tell them they've been calling the wrong number. They fix the problem, telling me the courrier and my bag should arrive in the hour.

I finally got my suitcase at 5:30 pm, after it had traveled all the way to Sierra Vista (that's in Cochise County, Southeast AZ) to another Williams' residence.

I don't know what I did in my last life to deserve such minor annoyance. At least whatever I did that my soul is now paying for wasn't too serious, since it seems that the bad karma only involves minor stuff and I don't have to worry that I was too horrible and cruel of a person. Perhaps part of my vocational calling is an unconscious desire now to pay for sins of my last life. Hopefully, I'm atoning for it enough so that next time around, life will be a little easier on me.

Righting my Christian World

This Christmas Eve, I went to chuch with my parents. Partly to please them (family togetherness and all that) and partly because I like to catch up on the gossip of the Christian circle I left behind about 6 years ago when I went Catholic. I'm intensely fascinated with the Christian Right. I even listen to Christian Talk Radio sometimes.

Let me state, firstly, that I am happy with my life. I believe I'm living a good life. I have a sense of social justice, I want to do good in this world and see good done. I like peace. I bathe retarded people in order to pay my bills, for goodness sake.

But everytime I go to my parents' church, I always feel somewhat judged because I'm not living my life the way the majority of self-centered American Christians are. I don't think that God is about me, but rather God is about doing good for other people in whatever capacity I am able. I think that American Christians put too much emphasis on their "personal relationship" with God and not as much emphasis on taking God outside of themselves into the world. A personal relationship with God is nothing compared to my personal relationships with other people. Am I being kind? Just? Loving? Compassionate? Of course, one could argue that personal relationships are a manifestation of what's inside someone (and I agree), but rather than focus on a selfish view of God (what can he do for me?), I think the point should be "What can I do for others?"

It also annoys me that people in the Christian Right worry if they're making the "right decision" and ask God to help them. Does God really care? Really? Really?? I'd venture to say in this unstable world that God has alot bigger things than whether or not you should attend College X or Y--poverty, natural distasters, war are a bit higher on the totem pole than if I should switch jobs.

And of course, the fact that I'm living in sin on so many levels adds to my feeling of judgement. Ironically, for the most part, all my friends who are married or engaged are good Christians who are saving themselves for marriage. Myself and my heathen friends who already are getting laid see no reason to speed up the marriage process. I'm all for waiting for marriage if that's what you desire. No skin off my back. I don't really care what you do in your personal life. But don't expect applause for it.

Anyways, I'm actually starting to sound bitter. I'm definitely not. I just get tired of being judged because I vote Democratic, believe in world peace and enjoy sex.

What I'd really like to see is a turn-around in the American Christian Church. A focus on compassion for others--real compassion, not lip-service. Perhaps then, I'd have a little more respect for the Christian Right.

That's Where I'm a Viking

I've been communicating with the Med Student over break and, through our phone conversations and text messaging, have realized a few things about my family vs other families.

The Med Student has been out doing fun and interesting things with his family since he's been back in L.A. Things like going to aquariums, beaches, the movies, tapings of the Tonight Show, etc. Fun Things. Things which require a little bit of thought and energy from members of his family.

My family likes to sleep.

I realized that both my brother (the little shit) and I routinely take long naps throughout the day whenever we both come home. This has really been going on for years. It seems that every time either of us come home from a break, we end up spending over half our time in Manassas curled up in bed.

I'm not sure why. We live outside of DC which has plenty of exciting cutural activities, many of which are even free. There are dozens of musuems a short skip away. There are plays and concerts a mere jaunt down Highway 66. Yet, repeatedly, I choose to stay home and nap.

I partially blame it on my mother. She keeps the average indoor temperature of my house hovering around a nippy 65 degrees. I get cold easily (sluggish blood) and am in perpetual state of freezing. I always bring nice clothes home, adorable tops adorned with ribbon and lace, only to cover them up with sweatshirts to keep my nipples from freezing off. I think much of my urge to nap revolves around the desire to hunker down inside my faux-down comforter merely to stay warm.

But I think my desire to nap must be genetic. It seems that every day between 2 and 5, my brother and I both drop whatever we're reading, writing, watching and climb the stairs to our respective bedrooms and crawl into bed. Often, my dad and my mother can be found doing the same thing around the same time.

I've decided that the sole reason for my inability to go out and engage in fun VA activities is that I am completely unwilling to give up my nap time. Choosing to nap over going out is an unconscious decision, I'm sure (well, until now). But nonetheless, I'm unwilling compromise my sleep to put myself in a place or position that come 3pm, I am unable to engage in my 2nd favorite activity.

Procrastination

I just realized, as I sit here watching Simpsons reruns on DVD, that my procrastination extends beyond schoolwork into the everydayness of my life. In a major way.

It's almost midnight, I am leaving on a jet plane tomorrow at 6:30 for the wintery frigidness of Northern VA, and I still have to pack and wash my kitchen floor.

What is wrong with me? Why when I have nothing to do I am unable to complete even the most minor of tasks? When I am overwhelmed and overloaded, I become an efficient machine, cranking out 2o page papers and biostats homework with the greatest of ease. However, I've had since LAST TUESDAY to wash my kitchen floor (that's seven days!) and during that time, I've had absolutely no obligations to anyone or anything (except alcohol), yet I've still managed to put off the distasteful task of cleaning until six hours before I have to leave for the airport.

God forbid I ever become a full-duty housewife. I'd neglect my children and the house still wouldn't be clean since I'd be watching reruns of trashy sitcoms and glugging vodka straight from the bottle with an ashy ciggie hanging between my idle fingers.

Southwest Santa?

I drove my friend Jim to the airport this afternoon so he could catch his direct flight to Chicago. As we're flying down Kino Parkway, we pass an enormous statue of some historical figure, who I'm sure figured prominantly in Tucsonian history.

The man honored through the statue is seated upon his monstrous bronze horse, rearing for battle, a swarthy, angry look upon his face.

However, the austereness of the statue was markedly ruined by the two matching Santa Hats someone had placed upon the horse's ears.

Christmas Tucson-Style

The neighborhood next to mine is (ironically) named Winterhaven. I never noticed this until a few months ago, but it seems odd that anywhere in AZ there is a place with the word "Winter" in its name, considering this state is about as far away from winter at 70-degrees as one can get. There's even a "Christmas Ave" that runs through the development.

Anyways, it's a nice, quiet neighborhood that turns into a giant spectacle of lights and animatron during the Christmas season. My friend Jim and I walked through the neighborhood (open 6-10pm every night) enjoying the sight of Jesus in the manger, flanked by the three Wiseman, cafe con leche coloured Virgin Marias, Saguro (sa -WAH-row) catcus and prickly pears.

Warning!

Let the following be a warning to all you would-be medical students.

Last night, my Partner-In-Crime, Meigan, hosted a kegger to celebrate the end of the semester, the Christmas season and just because we can. My friend Tasha was designated as the dry driver since she's been sick (Valley Fever?).

The kegger rocked. I had a blast--ran around kissing boys and sneaking cigarettes behind closed doors with a perpetually full beer in my hand.

We left about 2am, all six of us piled into Tasha's tiny Volkswagon. We were about half-way to Jim's house, when I looked over at the Med Student, crushed between me and Jonah. His face had turned an sickly, ashen gray. I yelled for Tasha to pull over and she swerved off Campbell and on 2nd St. The Med Student stumbled out of the car and lost his last few beers on the curb. He slithered to the ground and sort of moaned; I realized Tasha had pulled over right behind the campus police station and the MS was losing his marbles in their back driveway.

After he moaned for a while and recouped a little, we loaded him back in the car, pulled out onto Campbell, and immediate pulled off on the other side of 2nd for the Med Student to lean his head out the window and lose another beer or two down the side of Tasha's car.

So let that be a lesson to you, oh future medical students. Do not neglect your alcohol consumption and "going out" experiences because you will lose tolerance and at the age of 26 consume alcohol like you're still in high school.

Street Food Is the Best

I was driving through Tucson tonight running errands at Target and Pet Smart. As I cruised through the crowded city streets, I realized that the one thing I love most about Tucson, more than the weather, more than the nice people, more than the cactus and the cheap beer, is the ubiquitous taco shop.

Taco shacks are everywhere in Tucson. On street corners, busy intersections, down dirty alleys. Some are chains and others are independent. There are stands that operate only at lunchtime and some that are more like restaurants, with plastic booths and shiny tables.

I've only eaten at a few, but so far, the food has been so good. Crunchy and salty, with just the right amount of grease. Most of them are open 24-hours, so they make an excellent drunken stop on the way home from a party or 4th Ave. Most of them are staffed by people who speak no English, so ordering always proves to be an adventure. But even when my order's been wrong, the food is still delicious.

I think my new goal is to eat at as many taco shops as possible before I leave Tucson (which more and more, I'm hoping is along the lines of never). I know it's impossible to eat at all the taco shacks in Tucson, but I think that frequenting as many as I can is a goal worthy of the best.

Bluster

I woke up last night to an unusual sound outside. Naturally, I thought it was rain because when you live in the desert, you assume any odd sound to be possible rain. I laid very still and quiet, trying not to breathe, hoping to figure out what it was. Turns out, it was wind.

It seems that Tucson has turned into the Windy City for a day and a night. When I say "windy," I mean insanity. I've never been in such an environment, for several reasons. One, there are no trees to break the wind. Sounds dumb, I know, but I never realized how integral trees are to catching the brunt of the wind. Two, since it's so dry here and there is no grass holding the dirt to the ground, there have been dust storms across the city in parking lots, streets, sidewalks and everywhere else.

The blinds of my windows have been slapping violently against the glass panes. The palm trees outside my apartment are rustling against each other, making a hollow, rushing noise. My car blows in the wind while I drive and I'm not even attempting the bike. My hair becomes a giant brown rat's nest of knots the second I walk outside.

I feel like Winnie the Poo on a very blustery day.

FINAL-ly

It's been a few days, but things have been really...crazy. Or something like that. I didn't really do very much studying, but it felt like I did. Mostly because I was thinking about all the studying I should be doing that it almost felt like I was studying.

So, I finished my first semester as a grad student yesterday at 5:57 pm. I'm 1/4 of the way finished with my degree. It's sort of shocking to me that in less than two years, I'll be considered a "Masters" in something. And most of the time, I feel like I have no idea what's going on.

Now, it's on to cleaning. My apartment is a disaster--cat hair on the couch, litter in the carpet, soap scum in the bathtub. I've been neglecting the housekeeping in favor of "studying."

Finally, and perhaps most horribly, my friend (one of my two best girlfriends here in Tucson) got sexually assaulted in her own apartment a few nights ago. A man just busted in and tried to rape her. I won't go into any details because we're all a little traumatized, but it's just another reminder about how vulnerable we women can be....

Will Power?

I'm horrible at will power. Usually, if I want something, I get it. Impulsively, I buy unnecessary things, eat crappy food, kiss bad boys, go on expensive (but fun) trips. It's a horrible way to be because I'm always getting myself in trouble in some way, shape or form (gaining debt, gaining weight, gaining bad boyfriends, missing school).

But tonight, I've showed some restraint (sort of). On the way home from Phoenix (v. nice time--Med Student has v. nice friends), we stopped by the mall so I could buy a few more gifts. I ended up buying myself some new underwear (it's one of my SERIOUS weaknesses), but they were on sale at Victoria's Secret, so I don't feel too bad.

But what I really want is an iPod. Bad. Like, I'm seriously lusting after those slim, white, credit card sized music holders.

I ran out of shampoo this evening when I was showering. I needed to go to Walmart, which just *happens* to be next to a Best Buy...which sells iPods...on sale....

I wandered into the Best Buy "just to look around." I held the 20 GB iPod in my hand, stroking its smooth white plastic cover, the metallic back, the round buttons just the size of my fingertips. I almost bought it. Almost. I called the Med Student, asking his opinion. His first response was, "Do you want me to talk you out of it or into it?" (Good man.) I asked for just his opinion, which was to wait, it'd still be there in a few days, a few weeks, a few months.

So I listened to his advice and am waiting. I put the iPod back down in its holder, letting my fingers linger just a moment longer. I promised I'd be back and made my way to Walmart where I bought only the things I needed (shampoo and a new bathroom rug since Zola's pissed on the blue one) and a Diet Sprite, which I didn't need but can justify since I was thirsty.

I hope this battle of will power gets better as I age. Even now, I'm sitting in my bedroom CRAVING sweets. I have nothing in my house except old mini-Snickers (and I'm saving those for Anneke), and I am refusing to go to the nearby Circle K on the principle that my waistline does not need sweets and I have an exam to finish. However, I wonder how long I can hold up. If I can't battle against my desire to eat, what will I ever win against?

Furs and Wiskers

I love watching my cats clean themselves. I know it sounds silly, but it's so much fun to watch them furiously lick away at themselves, bending their little bodies and extending their legs, flexing their toes.

I wonder what it would be like to be covered in fur. Soft downy fur. I'd probably cuddle with myself all day. No wonder cats like to nap--they probably love the way they feel all curled up warm against themselves.

Decisions We Make

I've been thinking alot about the decisions we make, mainly because of a conversation with my ex-Beloved. It seems that every time we talk, whether it's online or in person, he needs to justify his decision to end our relationship. He keeps saying, "I know I made the right decision" and "things are for the better now." Which has made me think about right and wrong decisions.

I don't believe the decisions we make are always wrong vs right. They just are. We make them and it's not necessarily always better, just different. It is what it is. And you pull yourself up and keep on going. Decisions don't always put life into perspective or improve our lives , they just frame life a bit differently than before; as always, though, life keeps moving and we do our best to keep up.

My all-time favorite quote (so MS, this deepness cannot be attributed to me!):

--"People have this idea that what they do changes who they are. A married man has an affair and he thinks, 'Now I'm a bad person.' As if something had changed."
--"Meaning he already was a bad person?"
--"Meaning bad isn't the issue. Meaning you do what you do. Not without consequences for other people of course, sometimes very grave ones. But it's not very helpful to regard your decisions as a series of right or wrong moves. They don't define you as much as you define them."

Over the last year, I've realized the truth of this. Was leaving Kenya the "right thing?" No. But neither was staying. It just was. I made my decision. Am I happier now? Perhaps. But life would have moved on had I stayed. Am I happier now that ex-Beloved and I broke up? I'm happy that a decision was finally made (he did what he felt he had to do), but I don't think if we had worked things out I'd be miserable right now. It'd just be different.

That said, I'm going over to MS's to enjoy my newly framed life.

Cafeteria Food

Lately, because I've been too busy to pack lunches but been spending hours in the AHSL, I've been eating at the hospital cafeteria almost daily. For those of you not at the U, the College of Public Health is located in the Arizona Health Sciences Center, which is connected to the University Medical Hospital (along with the Med School, Nursing School and Pharmacy School). Incidentally, I thought I had escaped eating Aramark food after graduating from WM, but guess who the food service is at UMC?? That's right.

It's strange being an academic attached to a hospital. I've never spent so much time in a hospital before. Some of my classes are right next to patient wards--Sociobehavioral is right next to the obstetrics ward and I'm forever seeing pregnant women lumbering down the halls.

Anyways, as odd as it is having classes so up close and real to actual hospital patients, the proximity has been wonderful for people watching. And no place is better than the hospital cafeteria.

Today, as I ate my salad, I watched the people go by. The doctors with their white coats swirling around them, preoccupied expressions, rushing to gulp their food as quickly as possible. The med students, their white coats stuffed with books and notes, wearing dazed looks, dashing through the coffee line, not stopping to eat. The nurses and other scrubs-wearing staff taking their time with food, laughing together and enjoying being off their feet. The patients, wearing hospital gowns pinned behind them, dragging mobile IVs along with them. Expectant fathers, down for a cup of coffee, as their women on the eighth floor are preparing for the world's most powerful experience of birth. Family members who have relatives upstairs dying, but who push on with life because there is nothing left to do.

It's an amazing mix of energy and sadness that pulsates through this hospital. And every day, as I breeze through the hallways on my way to class, the library or the cafeteria, I am thankful for my health.

Starry Nights

Last night, I left the Med Student's house around midnight. As I walked to my car in the biting cold (really need to stop wearing flip flops!), I happened to look up at the dark sky. Unbelievable. It was so dark, the sky was crisp and clear and the stars were brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

One thing about Tucson that has always annoyed me is the lack of street lights throughout the city, even on most main roads. Side streets are never lit and the lights on the few main roads are so dim that it's almost not worth spending the money on the electricity (in my humble opinion). Someone told me once that there is a light pollution ordinance within the city of Tucson because of the nearby space observatory in the desert. I suppose this makes sense, but since I'm not on the up and up in the astronomy world, I can't validate this observatory claim.

Regardless of why there are no streetlights in the city limits, it sure makes the night sky beautiful. I'd been away from Kenya long enough that the stark contrast between the glittering stars and the midnight blue sky took my breath away for a short minute.

It's moments alone like last night that make me feel so humble and insignificant. Those innumerable stars extending for infinity, the emptiness above me curving away from Earth, the utter depths of blackness. At times like last midnight, I remember that my life is just another life to be lived, one life of billions that have been lived, are living and will be lived. It's pretty astounding to me that for centuries, for millennia, other people have looked at that same sky and pondered.

What an awesome and breath-taking privilege it is to be human.

Political Correctness

My Partner in Crime (Meigan) and I had a presentation for our Public Health Nutrition class this afternoon. We took a short cut and revamped a presentation we had done earlier in the semester for another class on obesity and the school lunch program in Cochise County.

We worked on the presentation this Saturday after being hung-over from the night before. Thus, neither of us were feeling particularly...reverent...about childhood obesity in Cochise Co. She left earlier than I did to watch a basketball game with her boy and I stayed in the library to put our outline into PowerPoint format. Just joking around, I threw some off-colored "fat-kid" jokes in the presentation, to give her a laugh later.

This afternoon, I loaded the presentation up for the class and the opening slide proclaimed: "Meigan and Elisabeth's School Lunch Program for Fat Kids in Cochise County." I almost died! She hadn't taken out the fat kid jokes! Further into the presentation, as I'm explaining the difficulties of schools initiating extra PE time while trying to still meet the No Child Left Behind Act goals, I see another line she'd left in: "But at least the dumb kids will be skinny." The entire class started laughing.

Let's hope that Doug didn't notice my politically incorrect slips and this should teach me to never be irreverent or crass when doing class presentations.

(Though I sincerely doubt I'll truly ever learn that lesson. Ever.)

Home and Hearth

I've been thinking alot about my move out here and my motivation for attending the U of A. And when I'm honest with myself, I've come to the conclusion that it really was all about the ex-beloved.

I never thought I'd be the kind of girl to make decisions based on a guy. But damn, I was.

Now that I'm here in the shifting sands of Tucson, I find my heart shifting, too. After ex-Beloved and I broke it off, I was kind of bitter about coming out West. The breakup was a long time in coming--the second day I was here, he told me he wasn't sure he wanted a girlfriend through med school. And I couldn't believe I moved out here to watch my relationship disolve so far away from those I love best.

But now that I'm here alone, now that I have a life of my own, I'm realizing how truly amazing this city is. There are so many caring people in this city. Getting away from the self-centered world of Northern VA, where people only look out for themselves, is wonderful. I forget that there are people who want to make a change in this world, who want to see the bigger picture. They inspire me.

I think Tucson has the potential to be the very best thing to ever happen to me. Every day when I wake up with the sun shining through my blinds, I smile. I feel lit up inside living here. Like my smoldering passion that's normally under the surface can't help but bubble out a bit as I meet so many RPCVs, VISTAS and other people that want to do good in this world. People who are doing good in this world. I want to tap into their energy, feed myself on their altruism.

As much as I love ex-Beloved, I think I repressed a side of myself and allowed his passions to overtake mine. He wanted so badly for me to share them that he was selfish and ignored my interests; sometimes I wonder if he ever truly "got me" or just what he wanted me to be. And the saddest thing is, I let him. But now that side I hid for his benefit is coming out. For the first time in a long time I feel so happy; I can't remember ever feeling this excited about being alive. Even when the traffic is slow and the sun beats through the window making my car a mini-sauna, I drive through the streets of this little city with a smile on my heart and laughter on my lips.

Medium-Rare

Last night, I went to my first office holiday party. Ironically, it wasn't even my office. Oh, but the craziness of office parties is so true.

It was held at this steakhouse on the outskirts (i.e. desert) of Tucson where they flame-grill the meat outside, rain or shine. And damn, it was rainy last night. The parking lot isn't paved and the muddy waters ran in rivlets across my pink ballet flats. The outside is rustic and the interior decor consisted of boar heads hanging on the walls (with poinsetta flowers in their mouths for the Christmas touch).

We had our choice of dinners and I chose medium-rare filet mignon. I've never had filet mignon before (and judging by the expense of it, probably won't again for a very long time) but it was so tender, like proverbial butter melting in my mouth. I've never eaten anything so delicious so slowly. I honestly wanted to cry as the last forkful went into my mouth. I'm not a meat person normally, but I could eat meat like that every day. God, just thinking about it now is making me salivate....right. I'm getting carried away.

Anyways, there was dancing and a little drunkeness, although not on my part (still recovering from the tiara experience the night before). It was fun to watch all these older office folks loosen up and let go. The mayor of Tucson's wife was there and she was getting down with the electric slide at one point. She also stroked my back. Weird.

So my first office party was a success. I'm starting to look forward to adulthood and office parties if I can break it down like some women did last night!

The Archer

So my birthday went excellently. The whole week as a whole sucked, but the hour or so that was actual birthday celebration went well. We went to Martin's, a small restaurant on 4th Ave (more like a glorified taco shack--god bless Tucson!!), for dinner. Then, my friends brought out an ice-cream cake for me! With 24 candles on top! Hooray! And I've eaten the leftovers for breakfast the last few days too, which is excellent. My friends really are wonderful--I am blessed.

So now it's Christmastime in my little oasis apartment. My grandparents sent me a tree which i decorated with lights and little ornaments. I have an advent wreath and calendar. I've been playing some Christmas music when the mood strikes. I do love this time of year.

Impulsively, I decided to get a tattoo as a birthday gift to myself yesterday. I got a small symbol of the Sagittarius bow and arrow in my upper left armpit. It's small and not too visible unless I raise my arm up while wearing short sleeves. Speaking of Sagittarius, according to the Washington Post horoscopes:

IF DECEMBER 1 IS YOUR BIRTHDAY: Old problems are now a thing of the past and you can look forward to an exciting year ahead. Any responsibility you have not dealt with fully or honestly may need your attention next summer, so be careful to dot your i's and cross your t's now. In April and August shifting circumstances will put a new light on important matters in your life. But emerging opportunities in May and June will point you towards a fruitful new direction that will enhance both your self-esteem and popularity as well as enrich your pocketbook. The power of love can heal all rifts or conflicts and put things back on track.

Duly noted. Life can only get better from here. So bring it on.

Pink Matchbox Cars

Even though I was an hour late to work this morning, had problems with computers and FedEx, I'm not going to bitch. Today is my goddmamn birthday--the start of Advent and Christmas.

I spoke with my ex-beloved for an hour today. Things are right between us again--as right as they can be for two people struggling through a breakup to find a balance between loving and hating. We both cried and I know he cares. And of course I still care. Although I can no longer speak for us both in absolute certainity, the conversation was theraputic, I think. It made our breakup more real to me. It made moving on more real to me. And most importantly, the conversation made me realize that despite my hurt and anger at him, he did the right thing. We are both happier now as separate entities than as one.

And my birthday. I've gotten emails, IMs and phone calls all day from friends across the country wishing me a wonderful day, telling me they're thinking of me, that they love me.

When I left my house today, I found someone had taped the words, "Happy Birthday Elisabeth" across the windshield and rear window of my car. I couldn't stop smiling. How wonderful to have people love you that much.

When I got to my client's house this afternoon, his mother told me that he'd been excited for a week about my birthday and together they had made brownies for me. And bought me little presents--including a hot pink matchbox car (pink being my favorite color). I was so amazed that they both cared enough to want to make my birthday special since I'm so far from home.

The last few days have been rough. Computer problems, lack of sleep, my ex-beloved, end of semester stress have all compounded to make my life seem rather unmanageable. But today I've been on the verge of tears the entire day--not because I'm stressed but because I'm touched so deeply by the people in my life here in Tucson and from home.

After the hardest year of my life, the year I thought I may never pull out of, the year I almost crashed and burned, I've realized I may have terrible karma with paperwork and minor stresses, but I have luck with friends. I am truly blessed by the gods for the people in my life. And I have to ask the question, how did the most unlucky girl get so lucky?

Thank you all. I love you more than you will ever know.