house, photos

One Year Ago

As Erk reminded me a few days ago, Aaron and I moved into our house exactly one year ago Monday.

I still wish I’d kept the digital camera handy during the move, so I could have taken pictures of the perfectly-packed 24-foot giant U-Haul, or the inside of our empty apartment, or the all-volunteer moving crew at their complimentary Easystreet lunch.

I do have some other pictures of interest, though:


Our house, at inspection time (February 2004)


The aftermath of getting the U-Haul stuck in the mud across the street from our new house


Our living room, after we got the furniture in place, one year before we got the widescreen TV

So, yeah. Happy one year in the house to us! (Only 29 more years of house payments to go…)

site-related 1 Comment

Even More Linky Love!

This one’s a first: I’ve never been to this person’s website before now, so it’s not just a reciprocal link (i.e. ‘thanks for linking to me’). Michelle must have found my site from *somewhere*, and thought it blogworthy enough to blogroll. That’s my link, there, circled, right above the link to Dooce.

That’s pretty cool.

Being in someone’s blogroll is cool, I mean, not necessarily being listed next to Dooce. Although that’s pretty cool, too.

Thanks, Michelle! I appreciate the shout-out. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. (Or maybe I’m just getting Aaron’s cold.)

ruminations

Blue Funk

I’ve been in one hell of a down mood today. I’m still exhausted from yesterday’s drumcorps rehearsal (90 minute drive to Clawson, another hour in a carpool up to Attica, six-hour rehearsal, then an hour of wrapping-up and eating of pizza, then an hour of riding back to my car and another hour and a half drive home).

But, on top of being severely tired, I had another fucked-up dream last night, which sent me for a tailspin all day. I’ll tell you what, I am getting mighty tired of these dreams where I end up romantically involved (or almost) with someone who isn’t Aaron, and then I wake up feeling guilty and wondering what it all means.
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randomness

I Wish

I wish I could just clip my nails and pick up my guitar after at least a month or two of not playing… and play for more than ten minutes before my fingertips turn warm and swollen, and have clean chord changes and firm hand strength.

I wish I could plug in my keyboard after months and months of not playing… and be able to coordinate my left hand with my right like I could by the end of Class Piano. (Which still wasn’t all that.)

I wish I could remember how to hear the songs in my head and let them out, like I did before I heard so much honestly good music and lyrics and became self-conscious about my own.

I wish I still had an instrument that I felt was *mine*. One where I could just think a about note or an interval or a melody, and then play it, without fracking or sliding or guessing.

I wish I’d stuck with my music more. I wish I weren’t so rusty. I wish I hadn’t managed to let even my voice go to shit.

I wish there were more hours in the day.