And so it begins

Okay, so this may not be the wittiest of entries, but it's at least going to catch you up with my life. Friends, I can hardly believe the day has finally come, but tomorrow I will be relocating officially to start my new job. (That's right, the letter of licensure finally came and it's off into the wide world with me.) Let me tell you, it's weird to have all of your life packed into a 4' x 8' trailer - it's a surreal feeling. It seems I've been waiting so long that I could easily wake up tomorrow and have it be another day at home; I wouldn't be driving off to the next great adventure.

It's been a fun month - full of friends and family. I'm glad I got to soak it up. I mean who wouldn't love this?

Or this?

I also got to be home for this:

And this:

And I even got to hear this in person:

In all there was much laughter and dancing, and intermittent coughing and sneezing ('tis the season, after all). And now it's time to grow some more. So if you care to find me, look to the western sky, and please keep in touch!

For anyone who was remotely interested . . .

I went with some wonderful friends to see August Rush last night. It was fabulous - yes, a little formulaic and fantastic, but I loved it. And now I want the soundtrack. And to play the guitar.

Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker.

Sorry to disappoint; this post has nothing to do with imbibing inebriants. I just wanted to share few lines from one of my favorite poets. I love his sententiousness. It's not a birthday or any other day set apart to recognize his witticism; I just feel that laughing should happen every day, and I hope these contribute to your daily quota of laughter. (I mean, doesn't that face just make you want to laugh before you've even heard anything he's got to say?)

“What's the Use”

by Ogden Nash

Sure, deck your limbs in pants,

Yours are the limbs, my sweeting.

You look divine as you advance . . .

Have you seen yourself retreating?

"Song of the Open Road"

by Ogden Nash

I think that I shall never see

A billboard lovely as a tree.

Perhaps, unless the billboards fall,

I'll never see a tree at all.

Off on the right . . .

I love shoes. I know it's irrational. Especially since, paradoxically, on any given day, my preferred pedestrian apparel is barefoot. I also know that this very post makes me fit the "girl" stereotype to a t. I hate stereotypes, or rather, fitting them, but my fetish for footwear cannot be denied. I love that there are shoes for all occasions and seasons. I love shoe shopping. I will be the first to admit that some days I choose my clothes solely based (no pun intended) on which shoes I want to wear that day. I love what shoes can do for a foot, for a person. For me, shoes can really set the mood for the day.



In my defense, may I say that I currently own only 15 pairs of shoes. I know that to some that may sound like many, but in reality it is hardly enough to be considered an adequate entourage of ambling accoutrement. The following is a likeness of my latest addition to the collection. I am a happy woman.

Bring on the bermuda shorts!

I thought it was autumn. You know, the season when the sun starts to set earlier, when the leaves turn flame-colored and fall from the trees leaving skeletal trunks to stand naked for the next three months, when there gets to be a bite in the air and you see boots and sweaters on your neighbors, the magical season when you can finally see your breath in the morning. Apparently, I was mistaken.

Oh, the sun still sets earlier, but that's about the only similarity I've noticed as I've settled in once again at home (in this sense, the place where my family dwells). Today was the fifth consecutive day of record temperatures for this time of year (as in, exceeding 90 degress). November hasn't been this warm in Phoenix since the early 30s.

This is wonderful news for the snowbirds (I guess the politically correct term is "winter visitor"). To those of you unfamiliar with this moniker, a snowbird is a person from Canada or the Northern or Midwestern United States who spends a large portion of the winter in the Sunbelt region. Translation: retirees who can feel a cold front moving in from two states away and decide to take up residence near the golf courses.

Now, I've never been the victim of rheumatism, and as such, I can't really tell you what a cold front feels like. but I do know that I do not share the need for 90 degree weather at this time of year. While I am appreciative for the chance to wear flip-flops again, I hope you never hear me sing the song popularized by Anne Murray:

"Spread your tiny wings and fly away
And take the snow back with you
Where it came from on that day ...

So, little snowbird, take me with you when you go
To that land of gentle breezes where the peaceful waters flow..."

I'm not lost, just undiscovered

You know, part of going to a wonderful school full of wonderful people who all do wonderful things means that your view on life becomes skewed. The skewing could affect any number of issues. I will be the first to admit that my take on life, and in part on myself, has been colored largely by my college experiences.

I'm not sharing this experience because I'm looking for sympathy or reassurance. I share it merely as a way of showing my perspective shift. With that preface, let me say that I have many fabulous friends who are male. I'm quite grateful for their friendship. Despite this fact and for whatever reason (I don't really want to conjecture . . . that just gets messy), I have never really been much of a dater. This is just one of those facts that I have come to terms with over the years. It's not that I felt unnoticed, rather, I felt like I was overlooked.

I went dancing this weekend in California with a group of new friends. Maybe it's because I was "the new girl" that I felt self-conscious and on-the-spot, like my every move, comment, and laugh was being weighed on some unseen balance. Once we got to the dance, I was asked to dance right away (amazing what those three little words "do you waltz?" can do for a girl), and I didn't lack for partners throughout the night. For the first time in my life, I felt sought after. This was a new thing to me, and to be completely honest, I liked it. Maybe the change of scene (or "seen" if you stick with the vision theme here) will not be so bad. Regardless, I think I'll be going dancing again soon.