42 is NOT the answer to everything.

All the tragedy in the world & my girls are giving me grief because we’re not going to see the first midnight showing of Harry Potter 6 like we did with HP 5.  It wasn’t supposed to be a tradition, it was just a special thing – but you know how kids are… if it rocked the first time then it bears repeating until they get sick of it, hah.

I have GOT to come up with a better solution for getting my boss to inform me more than just 3 days before a massive important grant deadline.  We’re up for federal funds & the amount of paperwork & financial details/analysis required is so over-the-top it rivals United Way.  And that’s saying something.  Do I still love my job?  You know it.  What do I hate?  Excel 2007.

Facebook is making me live so much in the past I wanna shoot it & burn it up & dance in its ashes.  I mean, it’s cool that I’m still loved after all these years (hahah) but, oh, I dunno… oh yes I do, it’s the despair that’s bringing me down.  Honestly.  I’ve heard so many sad tales of heartbreak & death & misfortune I’m starting to feel BLESSED & man, that’s sorta creepy.  For real, I’m supposed to covet other people’s lives, not the other way around.

More than anything, I’m paralyzed by the inability to actively help.  It’s a well-known consensus among people who know me, I’m a helper.  I will crush pains that fall on my friends’ paths if its within my power… & it makes me feel terribly useless when a friend tells me a horrific tale about his wife’s stillborn baby and all I can do is send silver tendrils of empathy his way.  It’s enormously frustrating for this hugger-chick.

I do have old friends that I miss, though (no, Sean isn’t one of them).  Interestingly enough, I don’t Facebook with them… we just email each other like, oh, 5 or so times a year.  Interesting how relationship intensities can be illustrated along a continuum of hope & despair.

This is one long motherfucking summer.

I need a bigger, consuming distraction.