I made this a long time ago

CARE Packages

We signed the lease for our apartment!! By 'we' I mean Anna and myself, sorry. Anna is a friend from my college days, and she has a real-life...uh, Life now. A degree and a real job. That's what happens when you stay in school, boys and girls.

Anna's fiancee is in Saudi Arabia right now, and will be for the next year or so, and she needed a place.

We got a really cool apartment in Redondo Beach, which as you might guess, is near the ocean. You can walk to the seaside in about fifteen minutes, or less than five minutes by car. No view of the water, sadly - there's a big hill in the way.

Since my date recently with the boss, he's been asking me to go out again, and I've been inventing excuses not to go... But he offered to help me move into my new apartment, and I'm tempted. But that would be wrong, to use the fact that he likes me to get free help moving.

I don't need that much help, not having much stuff. Since I sold most of it before the hike, I don't have too much crap to schlep - mostly clothes and books and CDs.

Anna's really stressed out about her man being overseas in such a hazardous area, and I would be too. I mean, it's gonna be a 'living in fear' situation until he gets back safe and sound. I think I have a cousin - Laura - in Kuwait, but they're not near any fighting, it's Admin stuff.

Dad sent her a box of goodies a while back, and is prepping another one. I'm trying to think of something good to add. Maybe a few books, a GameBoy Micro and a few games? Laura said they just sit around bored when not on duty.

Do you know anyone serving overseas? Send em a care package!!

Litany Webb, signing off

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Mmn Cran and Vodka!

So I went back to The Whiskey to flirt with the hot bartender, and he wasn't there, so I flirted with the guy who was there and found out when Mr. Lusty McYummy (his real name, strangely enough) worked next.

So he worked last night and I went and I sat at the bar for about three hours and ignored everyone else and flirted with Rob (ok, his real name is not Lusty, but it should be) and we talked a lot and he's a very funny guy. He kind of reminds me of Dane Cook, which is a very hot comparison in my book.

Unfortunately, he has a steady girlfriend, so my efforts were for naught. I did get to practice my chit-chatterly skills, so it wasn't a total loss.

Still at Dad's, apartment stuff still hasn't gone through, ugh.

Litany Webb, signing off

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The Bartender Was Very Yummy

A prod from the goodly SquirrleyMojo reminds me that it has been ever so long since my last post.

Life sucks, I'm turning 21, and I'm living at home with Daddy when I should be off trekking through Canada right now. I spent like a year trying to make The Pilgrimage happen, and it looks like it's gonna take me two years to just get back where I left off.

Was it worth it? Mn, ask me again in two years.

My boss asked me out - yes, it's wrong but where do you meet people these days, the grocery store? When you're in school you meet and go out with fellow students, when you're working you meet and go out with coworkers.

We went to The Whiskey - a very stylish and very tiny bar right by the lobby of the Sunset Marquis Hotel - they didn't card me, which is good because I wasn't quite legal yet.

He was nice, we had a really fun conversation. We kissed a bit. He wears the same cologne as my Dad, which was shiver/cringe worthy, let me tell you. He's a good kisser, with a hint of restrained chutzpah - as if he were on good behavior. Which I hope he was!

He was, really.

The whole thing lasted like an hour and a half, and the snogging only lasted like ten minutes, tops. He doesn't really do it for me, he's a bit too professionally driven for my taste. Personally, a job is about making money and paying bills. For him, You Are Your Job. Not so much, in my opinion.

I'm close to moving out and getting my own place, but it might take another month - the girl I want to have as a roomie is going through some shit right now and I don't know if she'll be able to.

Also, I hate catching the bus. Riding the bus I'm fine with, it's all the damned waiting. ETA to getting a car - six months, minimum. Wheeee!

Litany Webb, signing off

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A Mottled Chaos of Splotches

It was either lunch - Madi's cranberry bread - or the Taco Bell I had for breakfast, but I spent a good portion of yesterday on my knees (of all days to wear a skirt) nodding to the toilet.

I have a weakness for cranberry bread, and it was a bit mucky/underdone inside, but I couldn't stop eating it. The fact that I'd bought a cute little glass bottle of milk at 7-11 didn't help either. Clearly I can't stop eating cranberry bread when there is still milk to be drunk. Mustn't waste milk.

Since my recent haircut (oh so cute) my hair won't quite stay in a scrunchy, and I forgot my bobby pins yesterday. Needless to say I got a lot of yack in my hair, which isn't cool when you're trying to maintain a professional attitude.

No, I am definitely not pregnant, thanks for asking. I checked, and am fetus-free.

Factoid - Acidic Barf will actually bleach the red dye out of your hair, revealing your true mousy brownish-grey in a mottled chaos of splotches. And I can't exactly trim these portions out, unless I want to look like I'm losing hair in clumps due to mange. Thank you no.

I left work not long after the first non-stop slop session, you know the kind where you think you might be done, only to discover another upcoming upchuck geyser.

You're not done you little bitch, not by a long shot.

When I finally came back from the bathroom, my boss saw my red and puffy face and teary eyes and thought I'd been molested at my desk.

No, but unless you want me borking on my keyboard, I should go home. He didn't even blink, and told me to go.

It's weird, and I might be the only one that feels this way, but a long barf session is actually something of a rush. I felt giddy and light headed, my blood was rushing in my ears and all that exodus felt like catharsis.

Riding the bus home to Dad's house was an adventure all its own, and I had to lean out of the exit door at one point and decorate the sidewalk. I felt so guilty about that - like it was a drive-by barfing or something. No way to clean it up. And it sizzled as it hit the hot pavement. The smell was lovely.

Feeling better today, but I have no desire to eat anything. This might be a good diet plan.

Litany Webb, signing off

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A Disturbing Trend

Only the most freaky people are asking me out.

Granted, I work in a questionable region of a seedy town (Hollywood) but jeez! One of them wears a costume and hangs out in front of Mann's Chinese Theater, posing for pics with tourists. As a hobby. Today he was Batman. Creepy 60's Batman.

Yeah.

Litany Webb, signing off

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We Loved You! When Can You Start!

Sorry it's been so long since I posted anything. A lot has been going on and I just havent been online very much. One good thing is, I have lots of blogs to catch up on!

I was offered some jobs I couldn't take (one was on a cruise ship, would have been cool but I want to stay in Los Angeles for now) and I've finally taken a receptionist job.

It's for a slightly shady company that does radio. We 'audition' people at $25 a pop (they're paying for the radio career workshop, which is a 45 minute video we play for them) and then call them back and tell them they got the job. Everyone who pays the $25 gets the job.

Then, they get their own radio show. Kind of. It's on AM, the station moves around the dial seemingly at whim. The DJs have to go out and get the advertising for their 'show', where they play what we tell them to play. Did I mention they have to pay for the studio time with additional advertising?

Basically the DJ pays us handsomely to allow him/her a few seconds on the air. I spend a lot of my time calling people back and telling them how great they did on the audition. They woop and cheer and are so damned happy. I feel a bit bad, but all the wooping is uplifting too.

They DO get to be on air, and they DO get experience. Kind of like a pay-your-way internship, I guess.

The company is in Hollywood, which seems glamorous to anyone who hasn't been here. It's run down and seedy. And I get hit on, a lot. I don't know if it's because they think I have some influence, or if it's genuine. I guess if you see a hundred people a day, the odds are in your favor.

But if one more buxom bitch cheerfully, gum-poppingly tells me where I can 'get mine done' I'm gonna shoot her in the face with the gun they gave me. Yes they gave me a gun to keep in my desk. No bullets though.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Perspective...

Sitting at a temp agency yesterday, at Ms. Hildebrant's desk waiting for my test results (I kicked ass on Excel, btw) I was listening to the musak and looking at the large, framed pic on her desk.

This is what I saw, this is what was playing.



Ain't Nothin' Like The Real Thing
(Jackson 5)

Ain't nothin' like the real thing, baby
Ain't nothin' like the real thing, no, no
Ain't nothin' like the real thing, baby (Ain't nothin')
Ain't nothin' like the real thing

Ooh, I've got your picture hangin' on my wall
But it can't see or come to me
When I call your name (When I call your name)
I realize it's just a picture in a frame

I read your letters when you're not near
But they don't move me and they don't groove me
Like when I hear (When I'm in your arms)
Your sweet voice whispering in my ear (In my ear)

No other sound
Is quite the same as your name (Quite the same as your name)
No touch can do half as much to make me feel better
So let's stay together

Ooh, I've got memories (Memories) to look back on
Though they help when you're gone
I'm well aware (I'm well aware)
Nothin' can take the place of you being there (Being there)

Ain't nothin' like the real thing, baby (Ain't nothin')
Ain't nothin' like the real thing, ooh baby
Ain't nothin' like the real thing, baby (Ain't nothin')
Ain't nothin' like the real thing

Litany Webb, signing off

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Tagged (with a radio collar?)

Kthrne tagged me, and it's taken me a while to get to it, sorry!

Three screen names I've had:
1. litanywebb
2. yaddapatrol
3. lacktastic

Three physical things I like about myself:
1. Eyes
2. Hair
3. Fingers

Three physical things I don't like about myself:
1. Small boobs
2. My sideways pinkie toe
3. Ears

Three parts of my heritage:
1. Irish
2. German
3. French

Three things I am wearing right now:
1. sleeveless shirt
2. socks
3. scrunchie

Three favorite bands/musical artists:
1. White Stripes
2. Nelly Furtado
3. Pink Martini

Three things I want in a relationship:
1. Trust
2. Thoughtfulness
3. Passion

Two truths and a lie:
1. One of us always tells the truth
2. One of us always lies
3. See #1 or #2

Three physical things about the preferred sex that appeal to you:
1. Eyes
2. Hands
3. Laugh

Three favorite hobbies:
1. Internet
2. Hiking
3. Writing

Three things I want to do badly right now:
1. Go to Starbucks
2. Get a choco beverage
3. And some carrot cake

Three things that scare me:
1. Indecision
2. Player Piano's
3. Carnies.

Three of my everyday essentials:
1. Chapstick
2. Internet
3. ABC Family

Three Careers you have considered or are considering:
1. Advertising
2. Author
3. Researcher

Three places you want to go on vacation:
1. Easter Island
2. Turkey
3. India

Three things you want to do before you die:
1. Fly in a glider
2. Scuba dive
3. Ethan Hawk

Three ways I am stereotypically a boy:
1. Foul mouth
2. I wear big clunky boots
3. I'm bossy

Three ways I am stereotypically a girl:
1. I like pink
2. I'm a pack rat
3. I play the 'cute' card to get my way

Three celeb crushes:
1. Ewan McGregor
2. The Man in Black
3. Christian Bale

Litany Webb, signing off

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Nelly.

No, the other one.

Furtado.

The one that sounds like some weird taco from Le Taco Belle. Or some very wrong reference to an unkempt female body part.

Anyway there's something to her sound that appeals to me, and I can't put my finger on it. The lyrics are decent, but I don't think that's the element I'm drawn to.

I'm reminded of - - erm, that band. You know, with the members.

Dammit.

The lead singer sounds like Stevie Wonder. Um. Um...

Maroon5! (They didn't get popular till they stole Stevie's sound.)

I think that Maroon5 and Nelly Furtado might be the same kind of thing, where it's a stylized vocal style that grabs you, more than any inherent stand-apart quality of the music or lyrics.

I'm not saying that Nelly Furtado and Maroon5 aren't very talented, they are. I'm just trying to understand the how's and why's of their appeal for me personally.

What do you think?

Litany Webb, signing off

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Jake had the Right Idea

Ok, so I went to the on-the-job interview. Everyone I know, online and otherwise, has been like "this job thing sounds fishy, girl." (except for Jake, who said "f*cking forget those f*ckers") and I completely agree. But I'm very curious, and pretty stubborn. I wanted to know what the job was, and I wanted them to offer me the job.

Every job interview is a challenge, and whether I take a job or not, I want them to offer it to me. I want to wow them. My lack of any real skills makes this tricky. One thing that helps is, I'm very laid back during the interview itself. I'm good at speaking in front of people, and usually come across sounding decently lucid.

I walked into the interview office yesterday at about 10am, right on time. (I only arrive early for a first interview, to essay the layout). They let me wait about 20 minutes, it seems the people I was going to be on-the-jobbing with were in a meeting.

I debated walking to the corner to get something from Starbucks, but decided not to. My luck, I'd spill on my new suit (this had better be worth it) and ruin the outfit and the interview.

So I start eavesdropping on the meeting-in-progress. It's not hard, because there is a lot of enthusiastic cheering and whooping. Sounds like an all-guy group. Are they watching sports in there? Porn? SportsPorn?

Finally they all come out. Everyone's in a suit, and not the bargain basement version like mine (I bought it new, but I WAS NOT going to spend $500 of borrowed money on a suit) but, you know, classy. I looked damn good, don't get me wrong. My suit just wasn't made out of the world's most exquisite baby llama belly fur, is all.

It's mostly guys, with a few pretty sexy but hard-nosed women who look like they just gnawed their way through the glass ceiling and watch out bitch, I'll gnaw through you too.

They were very charged up and upbeat. Clearly these empowerment meetings happened pretty often, and it was the way they started their day.

I'm assigned these two guys to work with, James and Roberto. Roberto, as you may have guessed - is of Latino descent, about 25, clean cut, clearly has a lot of muscle under his suit and I wanted to unwrap him like a present.

James looked like a 40ish divorcee who works out to keep his gut to a minimum. Not a minute after we met, we were in James' car, a beat up Honda station wagon (I didn't know they made those) .

To my disappointment, Roberto sat in the back seat, leaving me up front with James.

"Ok, Litany - I know they don't tell you people what's really going on here." James said quickly.

"Uh - your nose is bleeding." I interrupted. A long trickle of blood was snaking quickly down his face.

So he mops up the blood and tilts his head back. The first thing I thought of was that James was a probably not a morning person, probably was a coke-head, and needed a lift to be energetic in the mornings. Great start to the day. Or maybe it was just a garden variety nosebleed.

So James stuffs a Kleenex up his nostril and drives off.

"Where was I?" James asks me.

"They don't tell us what's really going on here." I reminded him. Organ Thievery? Kiddy Porn? Coed Panty Pilfering?

"OK, this is a sales job, and we're on commission." James said, pulling over. we were still in the parking lot. "We're given a few cases of some random product every week, and we go door to door to sell it."

He gave me a long look. "So you want to get out of the car right now, or do you want to stay?" He was trying to be blunt and serious, but it was hard not to grin at him with the bloody Kleenex hanging out of his nostril.

Did I want to wear a suit every day, daily empowerment meeting, cocaine-aplenty, hawking random stuff door to door? It might make a good sitcom, but it's not a way I'd want to live my life.

But they hadn't offered me the job yet. I couldn't say no until it was mine to refuse.

"What's the product?" I asked.

Roberto spoke up from the back seat. "Last week we had these MP3 Player flashlights."

"OK. What about this week?" I asked.

"It's a kids toy. So are you staying or going?" James asked.

I stayed.

The first thing we did was drive about fifteen minutes to the Redondo Beach area, and parked in a shopping center. We all got out, and James and Roberto changed from their dress shoes to black tennis shoes.

"You never saw this." James said, teasing.

"Saw what." I tossed back the expected reply.

Then we started going door to door, walking right past the NO SOLICITING signs as if they weren't there.

These guys had their patter down, I'll give them that. They went into each and every place. Dozens of places. A Korean manicure place, a Wienerschnitzel, even the bank. I thought the bank would throw us out instantly. Instead, we sold toys to two of the tellers!

Oh, the toy was always the same - it was this cheap preschool cash register. The only real function it had was a little bell when you hit the button to open the drawer. They were selling it for $9.99, and people were actually buying it.

Only one place threw us out - it was this family owned legal firm. Everyone else seemed more uneasy that their boss would yell at them, than they were with our presence.

I felt really uneasy going in to all these places, but for the most part, people were pretty friendly. It seems that cheap preschool toys cranked out of a sweatshop in Indonesia are a popular summer item.

At lunch time, my feet were killing me (I thought this was going to be an office job) and I wished they'd told me to bring sneakers too. Of course, management couldn't condone comfortable footwear.

Eventually we went to Burger King and James bought me lunch. It seems that if I were hired, I'd be working under him in a pyramid setup of sorts.

I gotta tell you, that chicken sandwich did a lot to convince me that this was a top rated job, and I'd be silly not to take it. By the end of the day, they'd sold thirty-three toy cash registers, making $329.67, more than half of which was profit.

I was back in the office with the short short man, and he asked me about my day. I wanted to go off on him for wasting my time, but it was clear that if you were willing to go door to door selling crap, you could make money. Their system did work.

What was keeping me from selling my own crap door to door, and forget the commission BS? Because selling crap door to door sucks. You're outside a lot, it's damned hot, you're invading people's space and are unwelcome everywhere you go. Not for me.

So instead of going off about being duped, I gushed about how surprised I was that people were willing to buy, and there was real money to be made and yadda yadda.

I got the job, of course. I'm sure everyone who still wants the job once they know what it is will get the job.

I called this morning and told them I was "sorry, but I'd accepted another opportunity". Interesting day, though.

Litany Webb, signing off

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And Wear Something Professional Next Time...

I just got back from my interview with the marketing company. I ended up wearing the grey slacks, but I'd bought a new black top at Robinson's May, very crisp and professional. I'll probably be doing lots of interviewing, so a new top is a good idea.

I got to the place about twenty minutes early (Dad had loaned me his car) and waited a bit in the parking lot - I didn't want to walk in ridiculously early for the interview. No more than 10 minutes early is my rule.

So I go in, and the waiting room has a good forty people in it. Ugh, this is supposed to be for an office job, not a sitcom casting call. I signed in, took a clipboard, and began filling out a thirty page questionaire. I'm not kidding. This thing was long. The consensus in my neighborhood of the waiting room was that we were being used as a free focus group. Nice.

The questionaire took a good hour. At least half of the questions required essay paragraphs as answers, the other half were multiple choice. And of course you want to make the best possible impression at a job interview, so I answered the questions as completely as possible.

The interview itself was mostly this very short man (I'm not trying to be picky, this guy was like 4.5 feet tall) in a very sharp suit (he reminded me of those overdressed little kids you see at a wedding or funeral) going over my answers on the questionaire, asking me why I answered certain ways, and making notes.

In the end he told me I was a great candidate, and that he wanted me back for a second interview, where I would sign an NDA and get to see what a day on-the-job would be like.

And this is a quote. "Oh, and you're dressed nicely today, but for tomorrow, I want you to dress even better. Really professional."

(The outfit I was wearing cost $150, not counting shoes.)

Um, Ok...

The only thing more professional than what I was wearing would be a suit. So I guess I'll have to go shopping again today, if I decide to go to the second interview. It's not like people are knocking my door down with offers, so why not go?

Litany Webb, signing off

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Let the Mirror Decide

Yowza! I got a call from that marketing company that I applied to the other day. I don't think I've ever had such a quick response to submitting my resume. That's encouraging.

They woke me up with the call - I just hope that my incoherant "HuhWhatUgh?" didn't off-put the HR guy. And my breath was foul, I just know he could tell over the phone.

They want me to come in on Monday for an interview, it's supposed to take two hours. What kind of interview takes two hours? They didn't give me any details, but I can only guess there will be testing of some sort.

I've spent the last hour studying their web site to get an idea of what they're about, who they are and what they do. It's all pretty vague, really. Lots of snappy verbage and not a lot of detail. We'll see.

I need to get an interview outfit dry cleaned. Should I go with the ankle-length black dress, or the dark grey slacks? The dress is classier, and the slacks more professional. Hmn. Maybe I'll get both of them dry cleaned, and decide once I've tried them on. Let the mirror decide.

I sent out a bunch more resumes yesterday. I've applied for just about everything that I'm qualified for at this point, and a few things that I'm not qualified for.

You know what's funky? You need less training (time wise) to be a Paramedic than you do to be a Librarian.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Scrubbing Bubbles, Eat My Dust!

I'm still riding the warm glow of my weekend with Peter. He hasn't called since I left on Monday morning, but then I have not called him either. Why do we expect it's the man's job to call? I don't know, it just is.

I've been cleaning Dad's house, earning my keep. He's a decent house cleaner, especially now that he often has Joann over. I came home on Monday afternoon to find them lolling on the couch in their PJs. I called first to make sure the coast was clear. I mean, the whole sex drive thing IS genetic...

I scrubbed the upstairs bathroom - even the ceiling. I actually enjoyed the somehow relaxing domestic chore, how scary is that? What's with those little orange/amber colored droplet looking things that develop on the ceiling of any bathroom with a tub or shower? Soapy precipitates carried and deposited by steam? But the steam should not be carrying any precipitates. Just a funky kind of mold?

A friend called and alerted me to a job in the paper, it's one of those "Entry-Level Marketing Position - Great Opportunity For Advancement!" kinda jobs. I just emailed them my resume, like 10,000 other folks no doubt have done. I'm interested in advertising and marketing, so this might be interesting, even if it doesn't last.

I need to get a new cell phone, new plan, all that crap. That will have to wait till I get a job, of course. Oh, and crap - when I do get a job, I'll be catching a bus. I've been bussing in Los Angeles since I was twelve, so I know my way around, but it's still a pain in the ass.

It's not the riding, it's the waiting for the bus that sucks. Trying to be on time for work after making three transfers. Ok, I'll catch my first bus at 5:33am in order to be on time at 9:00. My 10 speed bike is still in the garage. Get to work all sweaty though. Mebbe a cute little electric Razor Scooter? Nah, I'd get run over and killed.

I can hike the length and breadth of Ack, no worries, and then I'd get hit by a mail truck on the way to work. Greaaat.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Waffles Be Damned!

Superb weekend!

Friday night with Peter was great. He picked me up at Dad's house (he showed up with a single white carnation - I love those, they're so classy yet understated).

And he'd dressed up, which is rare for him. Peter is one of those California Boys whose wardobe consists of hemp jewelry, shorts, faded t-shirts, and sandals. But he was as stylin in his dress shirt and slacks, and he looked so good. I wore my grey gabardine skirt and a black long-sleeved top.

He took me out to Buca De Beppo, which is a great Italian restaurant. For those of you who've never been, it's airy but busy, it's always bustling with lots of people talking and laughing. There are thousands of photos on the wall, of all sorts of random things, largely Italian or Italian-American themed.

The food is truly excellent, the service is great, the portions are gigantic. I just can't say enough good things about Buca. Oh, and they have a booth in the kitchen itself, where you can eat your meal if you choose, while all the talented artisans get their skill on.

Peter still has the same issues that I originally couldn't stand, (namely his drug use) and I know this is just a great weekend with a nice guy who I'm not going to spend the rest of my life with.

We talked about that at dinner. I didn't want to give him any wrong signals. He understands why we're not together, but I guess it's not important enough for him to stop using. He's improved over the last couple of years, so there might be hope for him yet.

Needless to say, we got stuffed. By the time we stumbled back to his place, we were pretty heady with pasta fatigue. We relaxed on his couch and turned on the tv, but we didn't really watch. We had some wine and relaxed and ended up doing a lot of sweet, slow kissing. It was the tender, warm makeout session you can only have with someone you're very at ease with.


We went to IHOP for lunch and it was all I could do to keep from jumping him right there. Just jumping across the table, syrup flying everywhere, waffles be damned.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Thirstily it Drinks the Lotion

We had a flyer rubber-banded to our doorknob this morning. I laughed a bit and then I cried. I feel for the poor schlub whose job it was to put it there.

You know what I realized today? The problem with lotion is that in 10 minutes, you need to put on more.

It feels so good as you're rubbing it in, but you're spoiling your skin, who's gonna want more attention, and soon. Why can't the dry-skin area just make more oil? My nose doesn't seem to have a problem with that concept.

I finally got around to updating my resume, and sent it out to a couple of dozen places. My experience and skills are kind of scattered, so I don't really qualify for any one thing. Not in an on-paper, this is my career kind of way. I put The Pilgrimage down as product testing, and said I was a Junior Tech. Helpfully vague, I hope.

I have plans to go out with an old friend tonight, Peter. He's actually an old ex, he was my second boyfriend ever, and the first guy I had sex with. He spoiled me something rotten, and I could use a little spoiling right now.

Peter's separated from his girlfriend, who's out of the country on some humanitarian mission. Separated as in, "let's see other people", so we'll see what happens tonight.

Peter's appreciably endowed with social skills and animal prowess where it counts, which is tempting - though I don't know if we'll indulge... Let me just clue in all you boys who have used a ruler to measure your ahem - it's all about girth.

Litany Webb, signing off

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I'm Alive!

I'm sorry I haven't been blogging, especially after I promised to. Nothing has been going on really. I've been in a funky nonplace for a while now, and I haven't even gotten around to updating my resume, much less submitting it anywhere. Mostly I've been sleeping a lot and eating more. I've gained six pounds since I got back.

I wonder if I could put The Pilgrimage on my resume somehow. Come up with some strong foreign name and pretend it was research. Der Skarsgard Projekt, hmn... I wonder.

All of the team have now returned home from beautiful Ack, they're safe and sound. Church was talking about coming down from Washington State to visit sometime soon. It seems she has some money saved, don't ask me how.

I came home to a small pile of threatening letters, it seems I forgot a few bills. Nothing too freaky, but I want to take care of them as soon as I can. I'm loathe to sell any of my hiking gear, but it might come down to that.

I've been crashing on Dad's couch, though my brother offered to let me stay at his place. But he has a very very active social life and I really don't need to listen to the Headboard Against The Wall sonata every damn night as I try to sleep, thank you no.

Shelly (of bitch fame) has a younger sister, Megan, who just turned 18 and is itching to find a roommate to get her first apartment with. I don't know if I want to do that, since I know her folks pretty well and they'd expect me to make sure she wasn't drinking, dropping acid, and boinking the neighborhood. With a role model like Shelly, I fear for Megan, but I don't want to be her babysitter. If something happened to her on my watch, I'd feel responsible to her folks.

Obviously, I need to get a job before I can think about getting a new apartment. But I know I'm cramping Dad's style living here. He finally gets some freedom, a girlfriend, and then here I come again. I try to stay out from underfoot.

I don't know that I'll be posting daily any more, but at least a few times a week. I've missed you guys! Thanks for all your thoughtful comments and emails and friendship - I'm blessed!

Litany Webb, signing off

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