Eloquence

My senior year of college I had, shall we say...quite a few...crushes within the male community.

[Smirk]

One night I was watching the movie "Hitch" (based on a real person, David Coleman, "The Dating Doctor," I've seen him speak, he's amazing) with my older brothers and company, and after mentioning my

"huge crush"

on both Will Smith and Kevin James, Patrick said, "Bailey, you need a boyfriend."

I responded along the lines of, "Finally you see what I've been thinking all these years!," but I was cut off by Patrick who apparently was not finished with his statement:

"No, no. You need a boyfriend. And then. You need to move to a desert island so there are no other men around to distract you."

dates <-- Up

Dream update: last night people were ransacking my new apartment, jumping on the bed and busting a spring in the mattress, spilling tomato sauce on the comforter. Then this cute boy came in and saved the day, telling everyone to clean up their messes and then quickly becoming my protective and sensitive boyfriend.

Stress update: brakes still scraping. The mechanics around town are quite booked, and Dad is negotiating good prices for me. Since I have a full schedule tomorrow, it was voted at our family meeting this evening that I get to drive the cool, SUV-ish car tomorrow. Holla.

Ballet update: yesterday we learned the move call 'echappe' and added on to our combination. We're looking pretty hott. Just sayin'.

Sleep update: still not getting enough. To bed too late. Exhausted each morning. Occasional giggle outbursts mid-afternoon as a result.

Zzz...[interruption]...zzz

So my dreams get pretty crazy when I'm super stressed out. This has been perhaps the craziest summer of my life, so last night's dream was appropriate to the occasion.

All I remember from my dream is that I was supposed to be in England, and I was in England, but I was arguing with my dad because apparently I wasn't in the correct portion of England. And I was freaking out that I was going to miss my flight (yes, flight, across the tiny country) and my dad was so lax about it. Then I found my plane ticket

to Rwanda!!

and somehow I knew that the Rwanda ticket would get me to England. So I was supposed to fly to Rwanda and then back to England? Who knows, ask my subconscious.

Well today (in real life) I had a trip to the vet with Dibbs (who has a sore tail, but will be fine), followed by a trip to ballet class, followed by a trip to work. Meaning I didn't sit down until about 7pm. And as I was pulling into work my brakes decided to begin scraping. Loudly. Apparently to bring me even closer to my breaking point. Awesome.

So seeing how today went, and already planning on waking up early (again) tomorrow to go to the mechanic, followed by work...I can only imagine what tonight's slumber will be like. Buckle up, B. This could be fun. Or, you know, one of those nights from which I'll wake up less rested than before I hit the sack in the first place. Sigh...is summer over yet?

On my mind

My cat is sick. When I came home from work on Thursday my heart just sunk for him. He looked tired and sad on the carpet. We took him to the doctor on Friday and he wasn't overly concerned; he gave Dibbs an anti-inflammatory injection and asked us to watch him. He seemed in brighter spirits the next day, but today he just sat, crying, which I've never seen him do. Then he started hissing. When I left the house he was resting in his favorite closet, and purred while I pet him. His mood just seems to be back and forth, and I am worried in a way I haven't been before; I feel like a mother with a sick child.

And then I went to this website: keepdancingamy.com. A young woman from my church who is only 24 and just newly married suffered a stroke last month, and has been in D.C. recovering. Just this last week she was flown to Chicago for rehab. I watched the video her husband made of her flight and cried. I read the journal entries about her struggle and brave and faithful recovery.

I am sincerely worried about my cat. He is the closest thing I have to a child, in the sense that I care for him deeply and he understands that care and so I feel helpless when his eyes are sad instead of bright, and he meows at me for a reason other than his normal reason, which is "feed me." But my spouse isn't recovering from a stroke. I'm not recovering from a stroke. Amy and her husband Johnny are astounding to me. I can't imagine I would have such strength and heart in a similar situation. Maybe I would. But regardless I think we should all look to people like them with humility, and take notes.

We're praying for you, Amy. Keep it up. Keep dancing. I'll try to do an extra good job on the barre tomorrow in your honor.

Accept me for who I am

There is no sense in even listing all of the contents that were in my car prior to 7pm this evening, because I think the amount of wardrobe items alone is enough to shock the pants off of you (pun intended).

3 tank tops
1 pair of jeans
1 pair of shorts
3 pairs of sweatpants
1 jacket
1 cardigan
2 polos
4 hoodies
3 tees
1 long sleeve tee
2 skirts
1 collared shirt
1 bra
22 socks
5 pairs of undies
3 pairs of shoes (2 for ballet, 1 for work)

Well apparently I could dress myself for about a month. For a variety of occasions and weather scenarios, I might add. Without ever leaving the comfort of my crowded little car.

Also, as I was wrapping up the pull-all-the-crap-out-and-take-it-in-the-house project, I spent a good 5 minutes looking for my car key. It was in the ignition, powering the CD player I had been listening to while I worked. I do not dye my hair blonde, this is the real thing.

And then, my final step in Project Remove Crap was to take all the trash to the dumpster. I had brought out a smaller trash can to collect things like (cough, dry banana peel, apple core) and had filled it halfway; I was carrying it inside when I stopped, turned around, and placed it in the backseat. I figured it would get a lot of business if it remained in the car. Does this mean the disgusting, vicious cycle will eventually stop?

Doubtful.