7.26.02 Well, (sigh), I'm pretty much all moved in about now. The rooms are shaping up, the paint on the walls looks fabulous. Except for minor complications involving my bookshelves continuously yanking out of the wall, this apartment is quickly becoming the best damn apartment ever. The next step is just finding out where to put all the stupid boxes, which only a week ago seemed as valuable as gold. I think I've come up with an ingenious solution to that. There should be a Box Distribution Center. Roughly based on the concept of the "Leave A Penny, Take A Penny" tray at 7-11. You know, if you need a box, you take one, and when you're done, you leave it for the next person. I think that would be ingenious, and solve the problem of so much box waste out there. I guess it would put a thorn in the side of some businesses that keep happily producing new boxes, like The Container Store, but hooey. That's right, hooey. So is there anything like this out there already? Mark my words. Like predicting the invention of the "shrug", I have hereby predicted the Box Distribution Center. It'll be called Happy Boxes in Transit, or something. Write it down! And my name, and the date.

7.10.02 Ross Jay McArthur -- January 1, 1918 - July 9, 2002. I'll miss you, Pop-Pop.

7.5.02 Alllll is full of loooove . . . . Love, love, love! Hooray, hooray for love! Happy Shmappy LOVE! LOVE LOVE LOVE!LLLLLOOOOOOOOOVVVVVVVVVVEEEEEE!!!!!!!

. . . (that's for Dan)

6.28.02 At last, at last I've paid my dues, served my time, and now I'm being rewarded by being allowed to go on vacation!! Yippee! Only for a weekend, but who cares? I'm gonna milk this time for all its worth. Get the worst sunburn. Get stung by the most jellyfish. Eat the most funnelcake. Get the absolute worst tattoo. Get hideous pictures taken in an extremely small booth. And all that other crap we treasure so much when we go to the beach. I'm not one for rollercoasters, but put me in a crazy house with slanty floors and oodles of mirrors and I'm happy for a good while. (see The Yogi Bear House at Kings Dominion for an example) It's just the thing to keep one occupied when all their friends are flying by and screaming and vomiting on the nearest rollercoaster. I want some kicks, too, I just don't want to be seen puking in public. That's pretty understandable, right? Yet all throughout my preteen years I was dragged onto rollercoasters, unless I savagely fought back (which sometimes I did). And now that ugliness is returning -- people are still trying to drag me on rollercoasters at the ripe old age of 22. So once again I must fight people off, convince them, No, I'm not crazy, I really do HATE rollercoasters, and then spend the majority of my time on a bench draped in bags, coats, and stuffed animals. Ho hum. So don't forget what I said -- screw rollercoasters, crazy funhouses are where it's at!

6.23.02 Moving, moving, moving! Ack, I hate moving. I think mainly because dropping heavy things scares me. Right now I'm not quite at that stage yet, but I'm at the uneasy stage of deciding what to slowly start packing first. Books? Winter clothes? Baubles? Trinkets? Start taking stuff down off my walls? That's the most depressing part, living in limbo with bare walls and boxes strewn about and only what you need to survive surrounding you in your empty room. I'm gonna miss this li'l apartment. Sure, the next one will be bigger and will contain more people. . . but it's also farther away, ground level, and my new bedroom has a broken window from the looks of it. But I'm still trying to remain positive. SO MUCH TO DO! Yet not really. Still haven't found a real job. Still trying to piece together multiple jobs. I should be relishing this time but it makes me antsy because everything is uncertain. Do I get to have a vacation? When? Where? Oh crap, what about money?? I gotta finish that comic too and see where that will take me . . . ugh. I thought things were supposed to settle down once I was out of school but things are much clearer in school, even though there's a whole bunch more pressure on you. You do your work, you graduate. End of story. This "real world" crap is a lot harder and more confusing.

6.12.02 Ahh, the onslaught of the boyfriend's birthday is over. Now to bask in the aftermath until Father's Day and more birthdays hit. Okay -- American Gods -- best book ever!! Yesterday I told my boss about the story; the premise is that when people came to America, they brought their gods and religions with them, and then once here a while they abandoned them, leaving the gods to wander around. And I said, "it's an interesting theory" and he replied, "it's not a theory. it's a fantasy. theories are true, this is not true." He thought I was using the wrong word to describe what I thought of it -- but I wasn't. I think it's a theory. Religion is based on belief, not facts. There's power in the belief, in the ritual, in the ideas. So I think that this is one way to explain old mythologies versus new ones. It's ridiculous to ignore all religions save one, especially all the really old religions, which have been around a lot longer than modern ones. No one religion is always right, and there is quite a lot to be said for all religions, all the ones that people have ever worshipped. So, yes. This book has made an interesting point, contains an interesting theory for me. I want to keep those old stories and myths alive. It helps explain a little bit about human life and comforts me. . . . So take that, boss man!

6.4.02 Man I hate, hate, hate searching for apartments! At first it seems all exciting and fun until BAM you find out you can't afford anything, and no one anywhere convenient wants to provide you with three bedrooms and a cat-friendly environment. And to top it all off, you have barely a job, so you need a co-signer, and no one wants to deal with that either. Grrrrr!