Land of Lakes and Volcanoes

There must be a catalog out there with prints and wallpaper just for hospitals. There's no other explanation. This is the 4th hospital I've spent significant time hanging out in at some point in the past year, and I must say, I'm beginning to find the decor rather stifling. I wonder what the consequences would be of rogue mural painting? I have some other random stuff, but I'm too tired and scattered to come up with anything more organized than this: 1. Best song lyric of the past two days (lots of car time = lots of radio time), from the Avett Brothers, Murder in the City If I get murdered in the city Go read the letter in my desk Don’t worry with all my belongings But pay attention to the list Make sure my sister knows I loved her Make sure my mother knows the same Always remember, there is nothing worth sharing Like the love that let us share our name 2. Random goods and services that you can purchase in the middle of nowhere between our house and the hospital. T

This blog has become exactly the kind of blog I hate. Ones where people just whine about themselves all the time. I'm kind of going through some stuff right now, so I'm okay with it. Also, if I was getting married, or had kids, or whatever, I would be talking about that. I don't have any of that stuff, so it's just me. Hence the mopage today. I really do think I'm doing this wrong, and by this, I think I mean life in general. I think it's easy to confuse my desire for a family with a desire for a boyfriend. I don't need a man to make me feel better about myself. I don't feel like I'm a bad person because I don't have a boyfriend. What I do feel is that I want a family. I want people in my house. I want noise and negotiation. I want traditions and plans for Labor Day. I want people to cook for and someone to make breakfast on Sunday. I want people to sit on my porch with and talk about absolutely nothing. I don't think this desi

I've been thinking a lot lately about communication in relationships, by which I mean any kind of meaningful human interaction, be it friendship or romance, family, or even something like roommates. It seems like one of those things that has to be in just the right balance, and that balance depends on each person's communication preferences, as well as the relationship that the two people have. It's so variable - how do you ever know if you're getting it right until you've already erred? The way I see it, there can be too much communication or not enough. I'll tackle not enough first. What if, for what seem like very good reasons, one or both people stop communicating about stuff that's pretty important to them? What if they know something that will hurt the other person, but it's not their place to tell them? What if they know saying something won't help a situation and might only damage the relationship? Maybe the communication stops because

I kicked ass this week by installing my new ceiling fan. Seriously. I am awesome. There was electrical wiring and the whole nine, and when I turned the power back on, everything worked exactly like it was supposed to. It makes no noise, it spins smoothly, there's no rocking. Essentially, it is excellent. As far as acceptance goes, I suck at it. However, I think this might be a lot like patience, where if you fake it, you're essentially doing it, so it all works out. Here's to faking it until you make it! Also, how can it only be Tuesday?? I don't even understand how that's possible.