It's like that Mraz line from "Wordplay"...

I built a bridge across the stream of consciousness that always seems to be a flowin' but I don't know which way my brain is goin'...

I'm sitting in my dining room. Which is rather strange.

I don't often sit here - hell, I don't often dine here. And over the last week and a half, it's come to feel as if I don't often live here. A couple of whirlwind trips to Massachusetts and an otherwise hectic schedule has kept me pretty much out of the apartment. Not that I'm complaining. At all. I'm simply remarking on how strange it is to crawl into my bed at night and think, "Oh, so this is what my bed feels like. Huh."

I'm eating a bowl of Special K with Red Berries, which always amuses me because Special K with Strawberries would be a perfectly fitting name for a cereal. That's precisely what the red berry is - the cereal makers wouldn't be blowing any big surprises by being straightforward. I'm also sipping an iced caramel latte. Breakfast foods at non-breakfast hours...just the way I like it. The day's best food is always served at its worst time. I rebel in my own quiet, milk-soaked way.

Matt Nathanson's Providence show from April (the night of the Accidental Bodyguard post) is playing in the kitchen, and he's singing the version of "Car Crash" that left me grinning like mad at the show. He's piped through the speakers in the kitchen because I'd tackled a massive reorganization effort about an hour ago. The task has prompted me to bar my flatmates and I from purchasing any more of the following items: peanut butter, honey mustard, Jello, organic fruit snacks, tea, hot cocoa mix, candy sprinkles and vodka. Oh, and Wheat Thins. Propsective houseguests, rest assured: we will always be able to provide you with peanut butter crackers, and we'll always be capable of getting you drunk. Jello shots, perhaps?

Speaking of guests, I've one on the way. Having grown accustomed to having to hit the highway to see many of my Massachusetts friends (it's simply the way it works out - as I'm busy trying to make my way to Boston as often as possible), I was thrilled to find a friend up for a trip north to me. I happily straightened up the apartment and solicited preferences for snacks. Hosting - hurrah!

The house is completely empty, save I, and I'm enjoying the chance to stretch out and blare music if I see fit. Both of the flatmates are on vacation and the other apartment's tenants are off somewhere. My particular apartment has been deserted for much of the week, and I'm bringing some life back into it by lighting candles, opening the windows and letting sunlight stream in.

My sunporch smells like pink grapefruit; the dining room gardenias, the kitchen apple and the living room...I don't know what the candle is. It isn't marked. But it smells good. I periodically make the rounds to be sure no room is going up in flames.

My writing this last week has been alternately arduous and exciting. In fine tradition, I've been agonizing over some projects lately, convinced that I'm never going to get them to the point I want. And in time tradition, the results end up perfectly fine and enjoyable - I wind up exhausted and headachey. As Michelle remarked today during a phone conversation, such a process is hardly surprising - it's how I roll.

This is my little weekend reprieve, as next week is scheduled to pick up just as fast and furious. A couple of trips - Saratoga Springs for the Counting Crows at the beginning of the week, Boston for the boat cruise and Guster at week's end - and a whole lot of writing crammed into the space between.

In the meantime, I'm just taking a moment to enjoy the sensation of breathing and writing, for once, simply whatever comes to mind.

"It's like riding a bike."

I suddenly became more wary of trying things I hadn't done in a long time.

Perhaps inspired by the bicycle races whipping through the downtown today, perhaps prompted by the ever more absurd cost of gas, or perhaps because I finally realized I'm running out of time available to take advantage of it, I decided to dust off the old bike and take it for a short spin. Fill up the tires with air at the corner shop, cruise around a little bit before turning back in.

Oh my God.

I looked like I was drunk as I began. Swerve here, quick turn there - I suddenly felt too tall for a bicycle I'd purchased only two years ago. The cars passing me must have wondered what the hell my deal was as I kept putting my feet down on the ground and laughing at myself.

I made it to the store, filled up the tires and headed back, only slightly embarrassed that a car traveling behind me had to wait as I moved. I was going quickly enough - it's not my fault we're not allowed to bike on the sidewalks. Deal, brother car driver.

By the time I made it home (after a quick trip around the block to further acclimate myself), my legs were sore, my back felt strange and I remembered my adolescent fear of curbstones.

But it felt marvelous, all at the same time.

But that whole "riding a bike" analogy? Noooo siree. That doesn't work. 'Cause getting right back onto the bike to give it a ride?

It ain't that easy.
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In other news. I had traveled to a store to pick up a lock for my bike (see how it all comes together?) and was listening to the Red Sox game on the radio. As I pulled into the parking lot, I kept the radio on as I rolled up my windows. An older woman, almost certainly a grandmother, was loading purchases into the car next to me.

"Excuse me, what's the score?"

I was surprised. Pleasantly. Grandma follows her baseball! "I had just turned it on, and they hadn't announced the latest score. Last I knew, it was 3-0 Chicago."

She gave a smirk and I laughed. "I know, it's hurting me too."

The smirk got wider. "Oh no, that's not what that's for."

"Excuse me?" She stared to laugh as it dawned on me. "Please tell me you're a Chicago fan."

She let out a gleeful peal of laughter. "YAAAANKEEEES!"

I laughed. "OK, I'm going to walk away now." She grinned. "Good luck with the rest of the season and the playoffs."

"You too, dear."

The home stretch for the baseball season. Everyone hunkering in. The playful jabs among strangers who know only of each other's rival affiliations.

God, I love baseball in September.

i think averi should play at the black cat.

how about that for a bold, decisive statement?

i rode in an elevator with two other people and t.k.'s poodle this afternoon. how much better does life get? i mean, come on... ;)

it's sad when i'm looking forward to running as a manner of warming up.

i wonder if belle and sebastian is touring...

randomness floating through my head today.

alright--i admit that i'm a bit out of the loop when it comes to musical trends right now. i've been listening to my mp3s, cds and whatnot, pretty much ignoring mtv and even eqx--something i need to work on, i'll acknowledge (the eqx part, that is). so i've never seen mayer's "no such thing" on trl, never seen him on anything other than vh1 or mtv2 and am quite happy not seeing him on big-time-mainstream-this-is-cool-music mtv. so i cannot quite understand how he wound up being popular enough so quickly to wind up with a vma nomination. i don't understand how it happened that, when my father and i went to d.c. for my interview, i found "no such thing" or "your body is a wonderland" on the radio four separate times (and that was just on the way back). and i don't understand how i can come across something like this. i just find it too funny...

updates of sorts: while it all depends on tuesday (doesn't everything lately?), i think i'm going to be able to see averi at hob. revelrevel...i start my job by 9/3 by the latest. revelrevel...

i'm gaining an appreciation for orlando bloom and all the asthetic delight he provides...and i discovered today that, nearly two months ago, my uncle sent me a tape of "empire records," the envelope containing which i came across while going through some newspapers and whatnot stored away. this brings me great joy.

my mother and i went professional shopping today--professional clothing shopping, that is. i'm very pleased to report that not only do i now have a professional wardrobe (who would have thought THAT would happen--i'm blue-jeans-and-t-shirt-at-all-times-girl), i have a professional wardrobe that i really LIKE. and am excited about wearing. and didn't spend a million and a half dollars on. and i have new glasses coming to me soon--love love love them...revelrevel.

things are going extremely well--i'm working hard at getting everything set and things seem to be coming together (as well as can be expected, anyway, there are some things that are, at this moment, somewhat out of my control). i'm a happy girl.

just kidding...i'm actually deciding tomorrow morning (technically, later today). considering that i must be at work at 11:30, i'll know by 11.

today was one of those "????" days. where nothing makes sense and the only thing one can do is walk (somewhat blindly) through the day and its events, confident that resolution (and sleep) await oneself at the other end of that day. completely random--work was odd, the people at work were odd, waiting for the phone call was odd, my emotions and physical state of nerves were odd...one of those days that i don't really want to experience again at any point in the near future, let's put it that way.

everyone's favorite boston-based band (averi, naturally) plays at the elbow room tomorrow night (again, technically, later today) down in n.y.c. it's funny--every time i hear of the elbow room, i think of how that's the club in "coyote ugly" where violet was supposed to perform, but since she didn't, kevin had to give up his prized comic book...but, as frequently happens, i digress. the point is, think rockstar thoughts for them in the p.m. hours. depending on the whole job thing and the resulting schedule (particularly, if i do take the job, when i have to be in d.c.), i'm hoping to be able to catch the show at hob cambridge on the 28th. it'll serve well as either a "hey, screw d.c." function or a "last blast (for at least a wee bit) in boston"...who's game?