The more I wander around my house, the more I love it and yearn for Spring so I can begin enjoying the grass and big yard.

Not so excited about the impending madatory garage and trim painting project however...

I'm at a crossroads with school:

Do I proceed as planned and get the AA at the community college and transfer to get my BA in Human Services...

Or

Do I not get the AA and transfer to the University of Minnesota (if I get accepted) and use the 2 free years of tuition made for transfer students without degrees and pursue a BA in Anthropology instead??

The University has a bigger name for my resume but I am in the agency I would like to remain at for years to come so does that matter? Don't know. One program is more pratical and one is more interesting.

I'm also seriously considering traveling to the Spanish Immersion school in a few years as a few of my comrades have done. If not that, a summer doing the WOOFF program. I need some travel soon, and I'd like to make it international this time...

I don't want life and opportunities to pass me by.

As I am getting closer to closing on this house, I am having a familiar flight feeling. A panic that makes me second guess the whole thing. I mean, what if I want to spend a few months traveling next year (unlikely!) or what if I save up and quit everything and move to Los Angeles once our friends are settled back in...But then I remind myself that once the market improves and I have some years under my belt with the house, I can always sell and will most likely leave with a profit.

It's just the thought of being tied down that makes me uneasy - I mean, 30 year mortgage??!!? GAH! In the past, I've been a up and travel in the spur of the moment type of person. Obviously becoming a parent and being broke for years curbed that lifestyle but I haven't lost the dream, that's for sure. I suppose that I could rent out the house for a summer to some college if the urge ever overtakes me and we need to hit the road.

In some ways, it feels like I am expecting a new baby. I'm getting prepared - ready to nest, have been window shopping accesories and necessary items and preparing for the future. It's fun to plan out how MY house is going to improve over the years as I update areas and add paint and fix up the yard, etc., etc. It's something that I have wanted for so long, and nearly had in my early 20's, but just haven't been able to realize since moving to Minnesota. The time is nigh.

While housing hunting last week, we toured 2 houses that were kind of sobering. Each seemed normal from the outside but when we came in - it became apparent that they were single family homes turned into boarding houses for people making very little income. The basements were a death trap with multiple rooms in each that had been cobbled together with no escape route if there were a fire. These are the types of living arrangements that the undocumented guys end up getting if they get out of the shelter and into "housing". I'm not sure why but I had envisioned that they were renting a room in a place with other men but not this. Moldy basements. Tiny rooms. No way out.

I've been kind of depressed since seeing those if only for fear of what could happen in a fire. And the thought that all of those people will soon be displaced as well - I'm assuming they were each foreclosures or a landlord selling despite the fact that there are renters living in their homes.

Everytime my boss says "Wowie Zowie!" I think of someone smoking a big joint ala "Up in Smoke" and laugh. She's dropped it twice already today.

Another silly statement a client has been using is "You told a Whopper Jr.!". He uses it if he thinks I ok'ed something (when I didn't) and I remind him that it's not going to happen (whatever "it" might be).

I learned in the past few weeks that the preferred method of catcalling is by hollering "Hey Momma!" out yer window. Followed up by the loud smooch emitted out the window, which, by the way, I find pretty impressive. I can barely get my voice to carry across a lane of traffic to the sidewalk much less get my lips to emit a noise loud enough to travel to a target of superficial affection.

Luckily, I'm not the type to be offended by this type of thing. It makes me laugh more than anything - anyone remember the "Hey! Can I smell your seat?!" catcaller??? Jeesh! For those who know me well enough, know that I do not think of myself as womenly, as a sexual being and generally feel like I look dumpy and plain if not invisible in that way. Just recently have I taken to try to up my style again. Years ago, I used to always do my own hair, wear some bright red lipstick, dress cute and feel pretty confident. But then things happened and my self-esteem took a shit and I stopped giving a damn. Then I became a single mom for years and money was stretched beyond what I could handle and I cared even less. Currently, I still don't give much of a damn but I've been dressing up for myself.

I recognize that most catcallers most likely hoot at anyone with T&A so I don't take it personally, for sure. Which is why I find it funny when it happens, if not a bit annoying as well. Same with those types that hit on people in the same fashion - like they've tried everyone else and move on to the next person or the most vulnerable looking person and try again. Stoopid.

I've been drawn to color and the thought of surrounding myself in it.

Case in point, the Gurglepot. Don't really need one but I love the vibrant colors and the design of them. They remind me of Fiesta Ware.

Greta McClain's beautiful paintings of migrant farmworkers, currently being displayed at the May Day Cafe.

The letterpress prints at Yee Haw make my day.

My newest tattoo already holds so much color and it's not even finished yet. By the time it's done it will have reds, oranges, black, greens, blues, yellows and possibly pink!

Ariana and I found two gems recently: A purple sparkly glitter Selle Italia saddle for $2.99 at "the army" and a clearance belt with a buckle that has a photo of a Lucha Libre wrestler in blue surrounded by glitter and flowers and cased in clear plastic material. I wasn't going to get it cuz belts with buckles make me feel like a Buckle Bunny (even though they don't wear them, I still feel weird!) but Ariana insisted!

Doing the front desk at the women's organization I work for today, been getting some weird calls:

- A guy referred to us because he wanted to recycle a tv.

- An elderly woman who wanted to donate tons of incontinance pads, the ones that she doesn't like. Unused, of course.

- A woman who wanted financial assistance with her car insurance.

- A woman who wanted to donate professional clothes but inquired about a pair of pants without the hem. She kept wanting to discuss said hem and pants but I told her to go ahead and bring them although I told her (in a nice way) that I wasn't sure that the women in shelter or trans would want to deal with sewing them. She stated that she does it...but still, these ladies are stressed out, chasing young'ens around and probably don't even HAVE a sewing kit. I'm not sure why she thought that the hemless pants were so important. Just bring them, or don't. Simple.

- A woman who was updating information about our agency and asked me questions whose answers were all almost on our website. I had to keep putting other lines on hold to answer her silly questions. GAH!