I stole this from my 4th grade English class...

Ah, the stories of roommates, and the toils of moving in truckload after truckload... when the truckloads come one week apart.

We still do not have everything set up in our new place, though we've been here three weeks. Roommate #1 has a lot of furniture and other goodies at her old apartment, but she goes to work and school full time. The boyfriend and I have all of our things over, though we occasionally make trips to his parents house to pick up miscellaneous things. Stud finders, sheets, super glue, that sort of thing.

I'm still worried and fret over finances. I'm still telling myself "be calm". I'm reciting that prayer over and over in my head even though I have long since shed many of my Christian values, "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change..." etc.

I am in love with my bookstore job, and I adore my new home. The home is more of a home then I've had in many, many years. The job is one that I look forward to spending time, though I have to check myself of the temptation to buy... oh, so many books.

I've already expanded my collection by approximately 9-12 books, though I get 50% off of an already discounted price, so my per-book total is usually something between $2-6, depending if I'm getting paperback or hardcover. That's less then your average meal, you know.

Ah, but it'll add up, and I know it will. I've only been able to fully justify about three of them. One is a coloring book (not colored in) that I had when I was a child, and two are books that are for and by writers/editors with advice to writers. I've been having what might be called, "A shit-storm level writers block".

The cats have settled in, I've settled in, the boyfriend and the roommates have settled in. We're having some growing pains, some, "Who the hell messed up the kitchen and didn't clean it up" pains. Some, "Why is there a trail of underwear down the hallway" pains, and some, "God damn it, I'm tired of eating Rice-a-Roni" pains.

Ah, all’s well. I'm reminding myself many times over that instant gratification is something of a myth, at least in this context. And that, also, this is a time in my life that I should and will be living much simpler then I really want to. Anyway, if I am given a load of extravagance and everything now, I don't think I'll ever learn to appreciate it later. Or some other mumbo-jumbo Zen-Buddhist crap.

No offense to the Zen-Buddhist people out there. Full respect to the Zen-Buddhists, yo.

Sigh.

I'm glad to have internet back as well. I feel more connected to the world, but I'm having trouble incorporating it into my life just now. I've gotten very used to curling up with a book for several hours. Now I'm questioning if what I was doing on the internet was so much more important than curling up with a book was.

I just finished reading, "The Other Boleyn Girl" by Phillipa Gregory. I really enjoyed it, and would like to read more by the author. I've told myself to limit the books to one a month, getting the next one mid to late October, and so on. While I was reading it was I was deaf to much else that was going on, and such heady distractions I must space out, so that an entire week of my life does not get sucked into the binding of those pages.

For now I'm not reading anything, though I keep picking up and playing with "The Audacity Of Hope" by Barack Obama, as well as "Contact" by Carl Sagan. Both I have found to be rather dry near the middle, and so I'm picking through them rather slowly right now. I would not generally have found Obama's book to be so, only that I've been following the campaign so closely (minus this last month) that I've heard most of what he speaks of in the book.

Tis all for now, I think. I can't think of anything else to write about save...

I've died my hair. Florescent pink.

-Teigra-

P.S.- Pictures of hair later.