An uninspired epiphany

I am having a mildly disturbing epiphany of sorts as I write this. See, Micah asked about our blog and told him he can read it (no more talking about making out with his sister Mik) so I hope that's all cool with everyone. If not, let me know and if I ask him not to read it, he actually won't. He's surprisingly good like that. But all of a sudden I got all oddly self-conscious about the shit that I wrote. Not that it's bad writing or that I am nervous that I may have written something that Micah wouldn't like, but that I haven't written anything particularly insightful or inspired since we started this puppy. And I know that we didn't start this blog because we wanted a public forum for our thoughts and ideas that others around the world would have access to. We just wanted to keep in touch since we are all moving all over the friggin' continent and sometimes the thousands of daily e-mails during the work day can be hard to sift through. So this is our own personal forum to share daily occurences and life happenings that we would all know about if we were all still back in Chi-town together. And I think that's great and wonderful and keep up the great work . . . everyone but Sarah. Ironic that the longtime English teacher is currently failing Blog Writing 101. Most students call it an easy A or a class even the football team could pass. Yet Sarah is on blogademic probation and in danger of failing out of The Kitchen Floor Institute. I have a call into her father. He says he is going to make her mow the lawn if she doesn't bring her grades up.

But I digress.

So I decided that I was going to sit down and write a different sort of blog entry. I was going to wax poetic about something that was confusing me or angering me or inspiring me. I was going to pull a classic Beth Rahm stream-of-consciousness writing frenzy gig. I was going to elaborate on some personal epiphany, something I would have bitched about or rambled about at Guthries over our Miller Lites and soggy mozzarella sticks. But the only friggin' epiphany I could come up with is . . . that I haven't had any epiphanies! Ew! What's wrong with me?!?!! Three weeks in our nation's capital, living away from my family and friends and boyfriend, going through the horrifying process of apartment hunting and job hunting at the same time, and I don't have anything of consequence upon which I can ruminate?!! What's wrong with me? I try to console myself by insisting that it's because I am trying to get into a routine here, trying to establish myself, and that I have only been concerned with logistics during these first few weeks.

But actually deep down inside, I think it's because without you guys and my family and my sweet, sweet Micah here beside to play the role of active participants in my daily life - I have no muse! I have no stimulation! Emotional, intellectual, spiritual, physical (sigh . . .) - I am void of inspiration! Shit! I start to panic - is it always going to be like this? Am I always going to be this vapid without them? Am I always going to be this void of ingenuity? I have come to the conclusion that without you guys, and with only cable TV in your place, I will.

So there are a couple options, no? You guys come here. No? Okay well I could go home. Well maybe no not really. I could abandon cable TV though, couldn't I? I know it's been pretty thrilling since I am so unaccustomed to its presence. But really, all I watch is snippets of reality crap, the same 7 music videos over and over again (although I really like that one by the Pussycat Dolls so I don't mind it so much but if I hear "Baby Grind With Me" sung one more time by a bunch of pre-pubescent, gold-toothed wankstas rubbing up on women 10 years older than them and ridiculously out of their league, I might pick up and join the Maoist revoltion in Nepal), occasional baseball highlights with some headline news, and movies that I already own and have seen 27 times each. Not what one calls expanding one's horizons. So I have decided that I have to do one new thing a day. Whether that means finding the local dry cleaners so I don't have to keep ironing my own damn shirts for thiese interviews (cuz when it's 102 outside you can't get away with wearing your cotton button-down more than once) or trying a new pool in the community here or going to a new museum or whatever. I have just been a little afraid of leaving the apartment the last few days because of the heat but I thinkI need to suck it up. I should have much more to say that I do tonight. And not as if any of these new experiences can replace daily interaction with my family, my favorite ladies, and my favorite boy . . . but at least I should make an attempt at finding temporary replacements, right? Looks like the Smithsonian will have to do for now.

So stay tuned for my future pontifications and ruminations . . .