I would just like to say...

I have two degrees...

...from two different schools...

...and BOTH of them are in the Top 25 for college football.


If you're not jealous, you should be.



PS - In regards to the last post, yes, I called the police immediately. 911 in fact. Between my neighbors, friends, and co-workers offering me places to stay, friends calling every day to make sure that I'm still alive, and my own mother calling me (not my dad, but my mom!), I would almost call it a positive experience. Martha is the little celebrity of the four-plex. Oh, I sooo love that dog!

Peace to all who enter here...

That's what my back door looked like at 8:45 pm tonight. Normally, the glass sheets cover the entire door, and normally, the screen is not cut.

Want to know what makes it even better?

I was home. I was here. I was sitting on my living room couch doing document review while a strange unknown man entered my kitchen.

Did I have a clue? No, but you know who did? MARTHA THE WONDER DOG! She kicked his ASS, and when I finally realized all the commotion and ran back to the kitchen, the dude high-tailed it out of there.

Nothing was stolen. I was not raped or killed.

Martha deserves a freakin' medal of honor.

Is it time to call it quits?

I haven’t enjoyed writing the blog lately.

I feel like my writing is forced. I feel like it’s disingenuous, and I feel like it just isn’t that funny (even when I’m trying to be).

I started writing this blog in law school, partially as an outlet, and partially as an attempt to discuss the absurdity of it all.

I can’t tell you about the absurdities of my job. I had drinks with a co-worker tonight and left thinking, “Did I say too much? Does she know that I’m just venting?”

I can’t make the people at my office into caricatures the same way I did with my professors. Professors (whether they think so or not) did not affect my career. People at my job could.

Boys? Well, the inanities of dating don’t seem so funny anymore. In our twenties, we’re still trying to figure out who we are. In our thirties, it just seems like insecurities that we can’t let go of and often fail to acknowledge. At some point it changes from bumbling through life to intentional ignorance.

My friends? Most don’t mind the expression, but it’s not exactly exciting to see their likeness in print like it was a few years ago.

And me? Well, I’m kind of boring now, and making myself out to be more unstable than I am is kind of embarrassing.

Truth be told…

I’m okay with my mom and family.

I like my job most days.

...

…
…
…

I still think most of my potential romantic interests are kinda dumb.

[As an aside, Patrick Swayze’s death is the number one story on my local news. This is what’s important in America today. Awesome.

OMG! In watching the news, I just found out that he went to the same high school as Musician Boy. Such illustrious alumni!]

Okay, sorry, that threw me for a minute.

So what do I do?

I think the blog either needs to be retired or otherwise take a turn with pieces similar to the past popping up here and there.

So readers, old and new, I’m asking you.

Do I kill it? Do I 'retire' it? Do I just let it go for awhile and write when the moment strikes me?

Why do you like reading this blog, and what would you like to see?

And if you don’t say anything, then it really might be time to go!

Home sick...

I'm home sick today.

I'm wearing flip-flops, a tank top, and knit gaucho pants.

The dog is at my feet.

I'm reading blogs.

It's an ugly day and pouring down rain outside.

And yet, I am immensely happy...until another email from work rolls in.

Now, I know it's just a phase because work has been pretty CRAPPY the past few weeks, but don't you think it's sad when you'd rather be *sick* than be at work?

I rock at first impressions...

A few days ago I was listening to my ipod at work, and when a song came on that I really liked, I checked to see who the artist was.

I have to do this all the time because I only buy one album a year. It’s a compilation CD put out by an Austin radio station that includes about 30 acoustic sets by rockers, folk singers, and various forms of Americana.

Upon learning the name of the artist, I checked my ipod again and determined there were several good songs by this guy. Hmmmm. I punched the artist’s name into Google and found out that he would be playing in Houston in November…at the Mucky Duck…which is about three miles from where I live.

Sweet!

So then I clicked onto the Mucky Duck website, and wouldn’t you know, there’s about six different bands playing the next few months that I’d like to see, including the Greencards in October whom I love, love, love. (This is if I don't end up in Austin for ACL that weekend.)

Sigh.

Although roughly 60% of the Austin population shares my taste in music, very little of Houston does, and as I mentally ran down my list of friends, I couldn’t think of a single person who might attend a show with me.

Again, sigh.

If only I knew someone…. And then I got this silly little thought. Wine-Time-Girl is always trying to get me to sign up for online dating. Personally, I think online dating is a little strange. Yes, you’re casting a wide net, but with the wide net you’re pulling in a lot of junk. I’m uncomfortable meeting people for whom I have no reference, and I’m suspicious that a large percentage of the people who sign up are desperate, lonely, or otherwise have some type of fatal flaw that prevents them from finding companionship in their everyday life.

But what if I didn’t want a love interest? What if I just wanted an activity buddy of sorts to go to shows with? Certainly, there was someone on one of the sites suitable for such?

So that night, I went home all happy and started to create a profile online. As it turns out, I already had a login for one of them. Several years ago, someone I’d known had created a profile and wanted to me to proofread it and give them my opinion. In order to get on the site to see it, I had to create a login and a profile at the time.

The darn site had forced me through about ten pages of questions, making me fill out all kinds of information and requiring a minimum number of characters. As I found this highly annoying, I wrote things like, “Online dating is for weirdos. Have I reached 200 characters yet? My dog is part pit-bull and will chew your face off.”

After I was done, I hid my profile, checked out my friend's, and forgot about the whole thing.

The profile was still there when I logged on a few days ago, and this time I honestly entered the information, uploaded my photos, and handed over my credit card information. I figured that I’d hone the description over Labor Day weekend and go live sometime next week.

The next day at work I got an email from the site telling me that the new profile had been rejected because it wasn’t completely in English. I had no idea what the site was talking about insofar as English is my only language, but I figured that I’d worry about it later since I hadn’t received an email saying that my pictures had been accepted and the profile was still hidden.

Here’s what I didn’t know.

Any time you update your profile on the site, it automatically makes your profile public – BEFORE it accepts your new one.

So when I finally did log on, what did I see? My old profile had been up for a few days, this time with pictures, announcing to everyone that I thought online dating was for losers. AND, during that time, no less than a hundred different men had viewed my profile.

And that, my friends, marks Ana’s auspicious entry to online ‘dating.’

Thank goodness I’m only looking for an activity buddy.

That being said, the online community must be quick to forgive. In the 48 hours since the new profile went up a little more than twenty people have contacted me to express interest – which is to say I’ve spent bits and pieces of the weekend writing notes like, “Thanks for saying I’m pretty and witty and such, but I have to admit I’m not really into dating right now. By any chance though, do you like folk music?”

And oh yeah, would anyone be up for seeing Slaid Cleaves at the Mucky Duck on November 20?