If the post title compels you to start singing that song by the Killers, by all means, do so. Yesterday was chockablock full of things to do. First, at 11 am, I helped a climbing friend move back onto her college campus; she recently had ankle surgery and is on crutches, so a helping hand was needed. I got sweaty very quickly; it was humid and we got everything moved out of the house, into cars, out of cars, and into the dorm in 2 hours and 15 minutes. Intense.

Then I went down to Princeton to meet up with my friend Sara to pick up something she was holding for me (technically, for my mother - but I was happy to play liaison) and then hang out for a bit. We wandered around the Princeton University campus for a while. It’s lovely. Quite lovely. Drew University in Madison, NJ, also has a lovely tree-filled campus, but Princeton kicks its ass with architecture (in some cases, Gothic - which is gorgeous) and sculptures on the grounds. See below for photographic evidence of the sculpture and the architecture:

"Big Figures" by Madgalena Abakanowicz

Alexander Hall at Princeton University

While in Princeton, I also had some delicious gelato - a scoop each of roasted cashew, Anjou pear and SWEET BASIL. They were all quite good - the flavors were amazing and unexpected (esp. sweet basil). The consistency, while good, didn’t quite measure up to the awesomeness of the gelato I had at the Capogiro Gelato Artisans locations in Philadelphia.

Around dinnertime, my brother joined us since he lives about 10 minutes outside of Princeton. So we went and had some Indian food for dinner, along with a fairly tasty Shiraz - Fools Bay Dusty’s Desire Shiraz from the university liquor store across the street. BYOB is nice.

We walked around a bit to make sure we were all OK to drive… stopped and had tea at a Starbucks… and then went on our merry ways. I got home around 10:30, so it was a fairly long day.

And today is all about cleaning. More purging of stuff. I’ve got two more boxes of books for Goodwill, as well as two bags of clothing… and possibly a whole pile of CDs. We shall see how inspired I am to simply throw shit out. I am quite a packrat, so I know the dangers of deliberating too much over whether or not to keep things. Most times, I just have to tell myself, “NO!” and chuck it.

In the long run, it will make it much easier for me to load a moving truck in the coming months (a search on Craigslist today yielded some decent results, so I just have to prepare myself for “comfortable financial readiness” so I can afford to buy any missing niceties and not screw myself by biting off more than I can chew - as I’ve done in the past).

I do so love my books. I took some photos of my shelves because they make me happy.

Last night, I had 11 hours of sleep. I got home from work, had some soup and toast and got into bed with a book to read. I fell asleep at 8:30 (without setting my alarm) yet miraculously awoke at 7:30 this morning.

I hope most fervently that I’m not getting sick. The only times that I can sleep this much or need this much sleep are when I’m getting sick or in the depths of a nasty-ass depressive episode. It’s not the latter, so it would seem to be the first. Perhaps that overabundance of sleep will have recharged my body and left me healthier and able to fend off whatever is trying to sicken me.

Ugh.

Anyway, I’ve been feeling a bit of pudding-brain lately and needing some sort of mental stimulation. The NYT crossword puzzle will only take a girl so far. Rock-climbing does involve a decent degree of mental stimulation in the form of problem-solving and strategizing, and I may very well have a new climbing buddy in the coming weeks (my friend messaged me through Facebook and asked how she could get started; we have plans to go this afternoon).

But I need more. I don’t have the money to go back to grad school, and I checked our local adult school offerings and there were some interesting (and affordable) courses like introductory Japanese, introductory guitar, photography, and a film discussion group - so I may try one of those (perhaps guitar since I have one now).

Another thing I’ve thought about is just getting some college textbooks and walking myself through a course (for fun, mind you) that way. Lifehacker just posted their list of the best places to save money on textbooks. Working in the publishing world, I’m aware of how the used textbook trade doesn’t do the book industry any favors, but having been a student who got away with paying very little for her textbooks (English major = NOVELS, working in a bookstore = discounts), I remember well the shock I felt when I actually had to buy something at the campus bookstore at full price. Say, an intro to psych textbook (which I still have today) that set me back $160. Which was and continues to be a sizeable amount of money to pay for a book you’ll use for only a few months, honestly.

Of course, this was 1997 and prices have increased greatly since then. And I know from my brothers’ experiences that the hard science topics like chemistry and the various maths and engineering can easily set you back $300+ per book.

It’s a bit of a no-win situation. The prices are high because the production costs and values are high and the bookstores mark them up to make a profit. Students don’t usually have assloads of money, so they’re looking to save money by buying the last edition or buying it used from last semester’s classes. But I’m beginning to pontificate.

The point is that it might be worth ordering some textbooks like an intro to Japanese or art history. That might keep my brain stimulated for a bit.

And now, time to get ready for work. Half-day = twice the work in half the time. But it’s a holiday, so I should not complain.

This seems to be happening a lot lately - I’m getting tired far more quickly, far more intensely and far more frequently. It’s stress; I know this. I can feel it.

I tried to engage in some retail therapy tonight with a friend from work. Normally, I can find something at Century 21 to scratch that itch. Tonight? Nothing. I tried on some fall boots, some dresses, browsed expensive handbags - and nothing smiled at me devilishly, saying, “You know you want me… take me home tonight. I don’t want to let you go ’til you see the light.” (Yes, that’s Eddie Money. What of it??).

However, I did find boots that I want, but I’ll have to wait until they hit stores later this month. I’ll need to try them on since Shorty McShortersons gals like me who have a bit’o'meat on their bones (and/or well developed calf muscles) have been known to run into problems with tall boots. There’s a whole issue with the boots being designed for much taller, willowy lasses. Those lasses usually have plenty of wiggle room all around their calves in tall boots because the widest part of their leg is at the top of the boot; for me, being short-legged, the widest part of my calf is much lower down the boot (say, near a tall person’s ANKLE) and makes it nearly impossible to find ones that will zip up over that part of my leg.

That said, I remain hopeful that I will try on the new Angora boots from Born and find them to be PERFECT.

And hope springs eternal. Just like my hope that I’ll find a suitable apartment in a non-ghetto area within my price range, ideally on the lower end so I’m not spending 50% of my monthly income on rent. 50% already goes to paying off school loans and credit card debt and car insurance and car payments and other sundry expenses like gas and visits to the doctor and PSE&G bills and the occasional mad dash to the British food store. So, if I want to have money for, I don’t know, food and toilet paper, I sort of have to find something on that lower end.

Since I haven’t been providing high quality narrative posts or commentary lately (or in the last few years, depending on your tastes) here’s a song. Perhaps it’s a bit “twee”, but I love the harmonies. It brings me right back to high school choir and madrigal singing ensemble.

It’s called “Chicago” by Lucy Wainwright Roche (yes - her half-siblings are Martha Wainwright and Rufus Wainwright):

And, OK. Here’s another treat. Speaking of harmonies, here’s a song called “Melody Day” by Caribou.

So I did it. I left work early today (after getting in early) so that I could make my way to downtown Montclair before 6pm to stop at the London Food Company.

I walked in with my wallet in my hands. I meant business and I think the woman working at the counter could tell. I walked past the Walker’s Stem Ginger Biscuits (which I also love but which I can find at my local supermarket for a few cents cheaper) and straight to the shelves in the back - directly across from the cans of treacle pudding and spotted dick.

In about 60 seconds, I grabbed three (3) packages of Crawford’s Garibaldi biscuits, two (2) Cadbury Fruit and Nut bars (straight from the UK; none of this Hershey processed crap for me!) and one (1) canister of McVitie’s Hob Nobs with chocolate.

Twenty one dollars and 80 cents later, I am a happy happy girl. With a tummy full of Garibaldi biscuits.

I’ll have to do some food porn photography tomorrow to help express my love of the biscuit. And of the packaging. There’s something fun about that, too. I must also mention that I am forever indebted to my friend Sara for introducing me to the “squashed fly” biscuit in the first place.

And now, sleep. I have another one of those headaches coming on, so it’s probably best to take some painkillers now so I can sleep through the night.

(Never let it be said that I don’t follow through.)

I fought the urge to leave work early today. I only wanted to leave early so I could make it back home in time to get to a certain store before it closed at 6:00.

That store? The London Food Company in Montclair, NJ. I was sitting here at my desk, drinking tea, and thinking, “You know what would go really well with this tea right about now? A Garibaldi biscuit.

Mmm. Thin biscuit-ness with tons of squished currants between the layers of biscuit. Sweet, but not too sweet. Crunchy, but not dry. So good.

Sadly, I’m out of luck today. Perhaps I’ll be able to justify leaving work early tomorrow for these tasty delights. I have to come in early for a meeting, so it stands to reason that I should leave a little earlier as well, no?

I’ve been going through my books and determining which ones could be donated to Goodwill. Earlier today, three boxes of books were thus removed from my life. I filled up another and have empty boxes ready for the next wheat/chaff separation.

It feels strangely good. First, because I’ve donated them and can pretend that they’ll go on to have fantastically great lives in someone else’s hands. Second, because that’s three fewer boxes I’ll have to worry about packing up and moving with me when I find a new place. Third, because I got rid of some old college books as well as books that were recommended to me by people whose opinions held a lot of sway in my world 12 years ago but who I later came to see as mere mortals after all.

Essentially, lots of those books were an emotional purge; looking at them took me back to a specific time in my life when I was still fairly young, impressionable and not comfortable enough in my own skin to say, “You know what? I don’t like David Foster Wallace at all!” for fear of the people I quasi-pedestalled* losing respect for me because our tastes differed. Those days of youth.

* (Horrible neologism - sorry - but it wasn’t idol worship; I just had them up higher than they deserved to be.)

Anyway, among the books donated today was a copy of A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again. I hesitated for a moment, thought about keeping it so I could give it another shot - perhaps I just wasn’t in the frame of mind to enjoy David Foster Wallace at that time?? I looked at the back cover… read the back cover copy and saw that smug-ass author shot… and tossed it right in the box. See? I can’t even bring myself to post that photo here. I just can’t.

It’s getting late-ish for a Sunday night. I had some semblance of a weekend - which was very nice in an odd way. Even though I was pretty unhappy for most of it, it was an unburdened unhappiness. Lots of tension headaches and neckache. Lots of random around-the-house stuff like dyeing faded curtains, making pancakes and poached eggs and bacon for breakfast, doing dishes by hand since the dishwasher is broken, helping my sister do her hair for a wedding, laundry, ironing and blow-drying a wet book to save it from mildew and worse-than-death, assorted cleaning, purging of the books, etc.

And to treat myself, I ordered a MOO stickerbook of some of my Flickr photos. I don’t think you ever get too old for stickers, really.

I set up my nice Flickr photostream, posted 200+ photos… I was feeling rather proud of myself. I saw I had 80 views. Yay! Then I saw that 24 of those total views were of one particular photo.

A rather blah photo of a woman’s feet.

I commented to my brother’s girlfriend that the only way I could see that photo garnering so many views would be from fetishists trolling Flickr.

Flickr stats evidenced my supposition this morning:

It’s hard to read at that size, but the searches are “barefoot”, “woman barefoot” and “barefoot-male-fetish.” Terrific.

And I am sad. Crikey.

… to receive a text from the Obama campaign announcing Biden as his running mate.

Or to have that text message wake you. Sheesh.

I’ve had this same headache (at varying levels of intensity) since Tuesday night. Since I realized that I don’t know what differentiates a migraine from other headaches (other than light sensitivity and nausea), I visited my old friend, WebMD.

I’m not starting down the migraine path, thank goodness. More of the “episodic tension headache” path, characterized by symptoms like:

• Headache upon awakening √
• Difficulty falling asleep and staying asleep √
• Chronic fatigue √
• Irritability √
• Disturbed concentration √
• Mild sensitivity to light or noise √
• General muscle aching √

I’ve checked all the ones that apply to me lately. I’ve been jerking from sleep around 6 am or earlier every day (highly unusual for me), I’ve been a bit of an irritable bitch at work and have caught myself saying things that are marginally rude, I can’t concentrate worth shit and want to sleep all the time, my neck and back are achey, and I am majorly sensitive to light.

So - thankful that it’s not a migraine, but still not liking that these episodic tension headaches can last anywhere from a few hours to two weeks. That’s just not right.

Whatever. I’m feeling like I’m going to fall over in my chair, so I should get to bed.

I did add a Flickr widget/badge today, so I’m feeling good about accomplishing something today.