The after-effects of the high school reunion are beginning to hit me. The actual reunion was fun for me. But the onset of the gushing high school memories flooding through my head has not been so pleasant. I wish I could remember only the good parts, like flagline practice, the Key Club haunted house, sleepovers and laughing with the yearbook staff. But it's amazing how the crap can stick with you over so many years.

The worst was this....fighting, every minute of the day, to see reality while surviving high school. Being told, though not with words necessarily, that a different crowd is better than you. You know it's not true. But they don't. And they may never know. Therein lies the frustration.

I'm glad it's over.

Two things happened on the dog front: One, we went over to our small group leader's house this evening and they had a six year old chihuahua. It was a very sweet dog. Trish said our dog would probably chill out over time. I felt better. Two, Jason decided to take over all the cat responsibilities (my standard of clean isn't up to his standard of clean.) So I feel relief.

I worry too much.

I am seriously considering giving away my dog. You have no idea how hard it is for me to consider this...I have always been of the belief that your pet is your responsibility. Period. No handing it off. I am an animal rights activist. I can usually make friends with any animal-regardless of bad attitude and hygiene (the dog's-not mine). I love pretty much all animals, including snakes and spiders. So here I am, fierce animal lover, sitting here, debating what to do about Squirrel.

The thing is, I was around some other dogs this weekend, or the owners of said dogs. And I found myself saying, over and over, "That's the dog I should've gotten. I'm so jealous." Sigh. Other people have dogs who are house-trainable. By six weeks old. My dumb dog is 10 months old and it's a battle every day. Other people have dogs who can be left alone for five minutes and can be trusted to not chew a hole in the carpet of their new home. Other people have dogs who are endearing and love everyone they meet. I, on the other hand, have a persnickety dog who likes about four people in this universe.

I've just been thinking about things I need to get finished in this life, and I am not sure that I am going to get any of them done because I spend most of my time chasing after a high-strung chihuahua. It's totally different with my cats. My only two issues with them are stinky litter and fluffs of cathair flying up my nose. The rest of the time, they are a joy.

Am I a bad person for wanting to give him to another home? Then I think, "You know, maybe he will be happier in a different home. One where he isn't crated all day. One with another dog to romp with." But I know that we have a great home for a dog. It's just me.

Argh. I don't know what to do. Jason is no help. He doesn't think we need to even consider it because he loves the dog...but I'm the one who takes him out to pee at three in the morning, cleans up his messes and watches after him. Jason has no trouble getting upset with me when Squirrel misbehaves, but when the responsibility comes, I am the one picking the poo off the floor.

I went to the reunion.

But I wore the skimpiest, sexiest, most uncomfortable panties that I own, just to keep me grounded in reality.

My friend, Casey, called me an hour before the dinner to coerce me into coming and I caved. Jason went grumbling all the way. But you know what? I had a really good time. It was good to talk to people about how awful our class was (among other thing, felonies were committed by members of our class at different points of time.) I laughed a whole lot. Lots of people seemed geniunely happy to see me, and I found myself feeling geniunely happy to see them. The interesting thing was, I don't really know any of these people anymore so I could have spent the whole time talking to anyone there...but I ended up gravitating to the people that I hung out with before. But not because of any loyalties; only because I was truly having fun with them. And a couple of people, like my friend Marla, I found myself thinking, "She's so cool...now why didn't I hang out with her more?" I found myself wanting to stay in touch. Another girl, who graduated two years prior to me, named Lori, married a guy in our class. Since she was a senior when I was a sophomore, I had always watched her from afar, thinking how beautiful and cool she was. She sat at our table and we seemed to click. I made her laugh alot and inside, I was this 15 year old, thinking giddily, "I'm making Lori Rhodes LAUGH! Look at me!!!"

It was fascinating to get Jason's take on the whole shindig afterwards. He's a counselor, so he studies people all day long. He was really bored. But he noticed some things in others that I had never noticed. One guy, who was always a sarcastic punk and still is, Jason really liked. I never really thought much about it, but I found myself liking him also, in spite of myself. Jason also said, "I can tell which ones were truly your friends." It's true. Most people are like, "Hey, howya doin'." Awkward silence. But then, others, I felt like I could have talked to them all night.

It's weird to see how people turned out. We're all these little adults now. Most with kids at home. Some people turned out how I thought: Marla is a doctor, Tiffany is a kindergarten teacher, Lucy is a volleyball coach, Casey is a drama teacher, etc. etc. Some people turned out a lot better than I thought they would-- one guy is a toy designer, another is becoming a minister. But then some people, who had all the chances in the world, turned into potheads. Or as Tiffany refered to our friend, John, "The new Unibomber."

All in all, I'm glad that I went; I feel a reconciling with my past. Boy, it's been a strange couple of weeks.

I'm not going to the reunion.

I had been guilted into it, by a former friend of mine, Jenny, that I ran into the other day. But Jason caught wind of it and got irate (he doesn't like her, from the several times that we've run into her) and made the declaration that we aren't going. I'm relieved. I didn't want to go. But my wussy tendencies were taking over.

I added some new stuff. Check out my sketchbook, cartoons and 100 Things! (The 100 Things thing isn't done yet. So maybe wait on that one.)

Poll: Should Ellen attend her 10 year class reunion this weekend?

[Background info: Ellen did not really like the class that she graduated with, does not keep up with anyone from high school, generally avoids people she graduated with, and is quite content in life without delving into that can of worms. However, will she, at some point in life, regret not going?]

Your comments are welcome.

One of my favorite singer/songwriters is Michelle Tumes, an Australian singer. I discovered her a few years ago on a Christian radio station. Not that I am against Christian music, but most of it makes me want to hurl. I grew to dislike it even more after I went to CBA, the big Christian Bookseller's Association convention, several years ago and saw the huge piles of money being tossed towards mediocre music, lackluster books and ridiculous trends ("Prayer of Jabez" anyone? "WWJD"? I tell you what Jesus would do, he'd kick your... well, let's not go there.) It is frustrating to me, since I am living knee deep in that world right now, creating "Christian" product.

Anyway, I stumbled across Michelle Tumes on the radio and practically stopped the car in the middle of the highway. Who was this girl?! She says all the things in my head regarding God. She just gets it. It doesn't hurt that she's got this fantastic ethereal voice. Her first CD, "Listen," is just wonderful. I never get sick of listening to it. I want to hand it out to everyone I meet. Maybe that will be my mission in life. To get everyone to listen to "Listen."

I updated my photo album! Check it out!.....please?

I had alot of time alone this weekend. Jason worked at his office half the whole weekend, and went to Springfield to visit his brother the other half. I think I needed the time to myself to think. I cleaned the house, finished a scrapbook for a trip I took to London seven years ago and pulled out some old journals to read from the Box of Doom, as I am now calling my box of old journals.

It's interesting. The times in my life when I was closest to actually knowing what was important were the times that I was completely broken to God. Those times when I'd said, "Okay, God. I don't get this life thing" were the times that I was actually closest to getting it. That was the one good thing about my depression. It broke me in half.

Shelley and I were talking about heaven the other day. I said, "You know, people talk about heaven being this big fluffy, ghostly praise-music fest. But I think it is alot more tangible than that." It's probably alot like earth, only more like the good parts of it. Like Yellowstone National Park. Or New Zealand. Like the most wonderful experience you've ever had-- only better, and more real, and it never has to end. Shelley said, "Oh my gosh-- that's what C.S.Lewis thinks it's like! Read The Last Battle in the Narnia series!" I happened to have that book so I went home and read the end of it, and she's right! He thinks the same way I do about heaven. Sometimes I think that's what really keeps us going on this earth. The thought that someday, we will have heaven. Perfection--but like no perfection we've ever felt. True perfection. A perfection where people never go away, a conversation can last a lifetime, animals never die, and you can walk through a forrest without the slightest thought that some maniac behind a tree is going to strangle you (sorry--guess this is my idea of heaven.)

It's a comforting thought.

Went my yearly appointment today. Never that much fun, but at least I really like my doctor. He listens to me. After listening to my tales of trying to conceive, he decided that I probably need to take Clomid. I probably have weak eggs or something. Oh, hoorah.

But listen to this, right before he starts the exam, he looks at me and says, "It's hard to imagine you pregnant." What does THAT mean? For pete's sake, he's my OBGYN! Maybe it's because he's been seeing me since before I was even married. But I have a feeling that it's because I look 14. No, I don't even know that I look 14. I think it's that I radiate the air of a 14-year old.

People have always treated me like that. Friends would hide their tales of indiscretion from me, maybe because they thought I was too innocent to handle it. People have always tried to "take care" of me. Maybe it yet again goes back to me never outgrowing the teenybopper inclinations in my life.

But hearing your OBGYN tell you that they can't imagine you pregnant...well that sort of takes the cake.

Damn dog chewed a hole in my carpet. Found it this morning. My first thought was, "Jason is going to kill me, then all of the animals!" I wasn't worried for my own life as much as for my poor dog, as I am so frustrated with him that I don't think I would do much in the way of protecting him.

Well, I told Jason about it and he's okay with it, although Squirrel has lost all of his priveleges that he has been slowly gathering, like getting to stay out of his crate while we are gone. I heard a theory about animals belonging outside yesterday, and am starting to wonder if that is a good theory after all. But what if your animal could very well be swooped away by a hawk or owl?

Other than that, I've been in a really good mood the past few days. I'll write more later.

Well, one of my best friends, Stephanie, is pregnant! We've been trying to talk her into a pregnancy test all week, but she's been dreading it. At lunch today, she finally came in and said, "Okay. I've got to take it." So she went in and did her thing. She was scared to go and check it, so I went in and BINGO!!!! I screamed, "You're pregnant!" You're pregnant!" My cats went running all over the house. Squirrel started running around in circles, barking. Stephanie immediately burst into tears because she knew it and she was so overwhelmed. But she's totally happy now about it and so is Kyle. They were on the pill and messed up. It's a total shock. Rebekah thought I was joking when I told her, and thought it wasn't a good joke but then realized I wasn't kidding.

Shelley, if you are reading this-- we went over to your house at noon to tell you but you were gone!!!!

We are so excited!! It's so fun when one of your best friends gets pregnant. It's like you all get to go through it together, in a way. When Shelley was pregnant, we heard about every ache and pain. When she ate too much fiber and thought she was going into preterm labor (which she actually did later), I went to the hospital with her. I got to see Sadie for the first time on the ultrasound! You get to maternity clothes shop together. It's so much freaking fun!

Watched a really ridiculous movie last night. "The Core." It's bad when the premise is ridiculous and then it gets worse from there. The core of the earth stops spinning? We have to drill down there with nuclear bombs and restart it? Whatever. It held my attention, at least. It reminds me of the time when some friends of mine were all watching "Face/Off." Another ridiculous premise movie. Two mortal enemies switch faces and try to wreck each other's lives. Anyway, it got to the end and there was some big boat chase scene. I think Nicholas Cage jumps off the boat and flips onto another boat or something. After this whole unbelievable movie, my friend Chris says (regarding the boat scene jump), "Well THAT couldn't happen." Oh yeah, but you can switch faces with your mortal enemy...

For a week, our office has been really stinky. Like something crawled into the walls and died. Much complaining. Yesterday, we found out that it was a PROPANE leak. Now, everyone is paranoid that they have carbon monoxide poisoning. "I've been so tired" "Me too! And hungry!" "Me too! And my arms are falling off!" "Me too!....." Etc. etc.

I have been kind of depressed, though. It feels like my body is depressed. I have been wandering around the house at night, having many things to do, but avoiding all of it. I have been going to bed early, just because I'm bored. Nothing to do, guess I'll sleep. I recognize that as a bad sign from my old depression days. Jason and I have been bickering alot. He's like living with a bipolar person right now. He's been working really hard, not getting enough sleep, not eating right. One minute he's like, "Oh I love you dear wife", the next minute he's snapping at me about the puniest thing. It's enough to turn me schitzophrenic.

In other news, at church the other day, the music minister actually got halfway through a song and realized that the words were "And I stand in awe of you" so he says, "Whoa! Sorry! We gotta stand up! I forgot about this lyric." During the song. Drives me crazy!!!! And I discovered another praise song phrase that I can do without--"Ancient of Days." I don't really understand it. And I don't think anyone does.

Oh, I'm just too critical.

Well, hello. A week later. Let's see... what has happened....Labor Day weekend was pretty good. Went to the drive-in with the Grusings. We saw "Legally Blonde 2" which I thought was vaguely cute, but the other three HATED. Jason and Brent were like, "Kill me now" when her chihuahua turned out to be gay. I guess that was pretty stupid. Before we got Squirrel neutered, not only did he hump other male dogs (Fifi), but blankets lying on the floor. When you gotta hump, I guess you gotta hump.

Jason took me to Red Lobster on Friday night and we had a long discussion about me applying for the other job. He basically said what I'd been thinking in the back of my head-- I wasn't going to like the other job. It's very technical, and not a bit creative. I decided not to apply, and I feel good about the decision.

The progesterone I'm taking has been making me a little crazy but not as crazy as when I took it last month. Last month, if you recall, I ended up crying in the middle of the animal shelter and being generally bitchy for two weeks. I just feel a bit melancholy right now. For two nights in a row, I've gone to bed early and ended up watching "Law and Order." Is that show on every freaking night of the week or what?