This is it, the last weekend of the summer. Technically, the official season doesn't end until late September, but, for all intents and purposes, summer is over. It's been a dull summer, for the most part. We went to a couple of festivals, a couple of parties, but nothing external has been particularly memorable. I haven't seen one of my best friends all summer- but, Dan, we are on for September 14th. Just so you know, before I even had a chance to mention that date to Chris, he said, "You know who we need to see sometime soon? Dan and Meg."

I saw Carole a handful of times. She fell in love this summer, with someone who is worthy and perfect and will likely, hopefully, be around for many seasons to come. I barely saw my sister, who ended our last gathering with a strange sort of silence that I couldn't quite decipher. We may still be fighting about the cat, for all I know. She knows that I'm pissed that she made my mother give up the little kitten that might very well have changed that old bat's life. I saw my parents only a handful of times. Chris' family, ditto. The person that I've seen the most is the neighbor- thank goodness for convenient friends, for friends that require no planning or exertion or the usual kind of effort that I have so much difficulty summoning after a long work week, a stack of bills, a killer commute.

This was the first summer in the house, and we painted and rearranged furniture and fired up the grill and argued over whether the third bedroom is the "guest room" or the future "baby's room." I fell in love with the house this summer after so many long months of wondering if we had made the right choice. But this is it. This is my home.

And I watched Barack Obama all summer long. And I read great books and watched great movies. So many of the things that I consider to be large parts of my life involve little movement and absolutely no social skills. But I love stories- I soak them in. Written word, actors on a screen, an imagined exchange executed beautifully by an unseen puppetmaster, while I sit back and enjoy.

I am alone tonight for the last Saturday of the summer. Chris is on his way back from a "thing" that he had, and while the neighbors invited me out to Schaumburg fest (?), and while I could have likely picked up the phone and found something to do had the fest idea not been acceptable, the most appealing option was this. Braless in a T-shirt, glass of wine in hand, a long movie that made me cry ("Feast of Love"), chapters of a book about teenaged vampires, cheese and crackers, long lingering looks at the stars from my backyard, bare feet, a make-up-less face, and the plans for the upcoming seasons. For fall and winter, when all of this will be slightly more forgiveable, even if I don't bother asking to be forgiven.

I have never felt this strongly or passionate about a presidential nominee. I want Barack to be president for more reasons that I can express, and if November fifth rolls around and the votes have gone to McCain, I will have to leave the country. I think I may have said this when it was between Kerry and Bush, but this is different. Kerry's best quality, while a big one, was that he wasn't Bush. Beyond that, he didn't have a whole lot going for him. But Obama? He would be exactly what this country, and the world, needs, and I fully believe this even though I know, at the end of the day, he's still just another politician. But I LIKE him. And I want him to run our country.



I watched most of the DNC this past week. The only big speech I missed was Michelle's, but I found it online the next day, and I felt something surge within me when she described her life, her family, her husband. I felt this same surge last night watching the biographical clip of Barack's life, and then his speech. Only stronger. Please let him be president. Please vote for him this November.



Aside from the DNC, I am halfway through the third book in Stephenie Meyer's "Twilight" series. I can't put these books down; if you haven't heard the hype behind these young adult novels, then you're either living in a cave or, well, much, much, much cooler than me. Maybe a combination of the two? I'll admit that the writing isn't great. Someone is constantly sighing, grimacing, or scowling, and it kind of does read the way a 17 year old might talk. So maybe that's *good writing*? I'm not sure. But these novels are about vampires. And I love vampires! I want to be a vampire so badly. I'd be dead sexy, I'd never have to sleep, and I'd have untold powers. And, of course, ruby red lips and a killer complexion. Vampires never have acne. Anyway, read these books. And vote for Barack.

Finally, a movie quote that sums up exactly how I feel:

"I have a fear of perishables. You know, pets, dairy products, produce- anything that dies, I don't tend to... ugh....not for me."

- From the movie "Ira & Abby"

So I've decided to become an environmentalist. I decide this on a semi-annual basis. I've been watching that show "Wasted" on the Planet Green channel, and the big thing they do is tell the "players" what their ecological footprint is in comparison to the amount of land they actually own. Of course, the footprint is always grossly disproportionate to their lot size- and, furthermore, the show itself is based on the assumption that we all own land. I do own land, I suppose, although I never really thought of it that way. I own a home. It just happens to be situated on a little piece of land. Nonetheless, I'm dying to know what my footprint is.

I'm interested in composting, although I'm not clear on how one goes about actually composting items. They touched on it in this week's show, and so I decided that I would like to start composting as well. First thing I did was throw my coffee grounds out the window instead of into the trash. Then I threw half of a rotten cucumber out the window. Then I threw some chicken bones, leftover spaghetti, and a brochure on recycling out the window. A few days later, I do not have the compost heap I assumed I would. Instead, I have a pile of stinky trash. In my backyard, on my land, next to my window.

Composting is probably too advanced for me, that's the problem. But what else can I do? I use the swirly lightbulbs, I drive a fuel efficient vehicle (40 miles day, whoops!), and I try to recycle. I'm obviously doing what I can. I don't buy a lot of organic stuff because it's too expensive, and I've never been worried about the health issues involved in eating non-organic. I figure if I'm eating an apple AT ALL, then I'm way ahead of my usual game. And if I throw the apple core out the window, then I'm composting.

I do have a lot of aerosol cans, and I kill bugs like crazy. I'm a bug killing machine. Spider, squish. Mosquito, slap. Bumblebee, hit it with my shoe. So that might not be environmentally cool, but I like the cans and I hate the bugs. And I didn't buy super energy efficient appliances for the same reason I don't buy organic foods: too expensive, and if I'm washing my clothes at all....

But I'm interested in this solar energy thing I keep hearing about, and seeing on my new favorite show "Living With Ed." This Ed Begley Jr guy, he's got solar panels up the wazoo. I'd like to look into doing that, but, again, it doesn't seem affordable, at least not right off the bat. This is the inherent problem with going as green as possible. Who can afford it? I do, however, have a solar calculator, and it works like a charm... sometimes. Not that I use it all that much. Only when I want to do that joke where you flip the calculator upside down and the screen says LOOSE or BOOBS or OBOE. Ah, math jokes.

I'm also interested in creating energy by riding a bike, just like Ed. That guys rides a bike for ten minutes, and, wouldn't you know, he creates enough energy to make toast. That would be cool, all joking aside. I'll have to figure out where to get a bike like that and also work up enough energy to ride a bike for a few minutes and maybe get a pop tart out of the deal.

At least I'm thinking about all these things, and I am starting to make a conscious effort to consume less and do more with what I have. Tonight, for the first time in a long time, I had way more in my recycling bin that I had in my trash can. Way more. Of course, most of my trash was outside my kitchen window in a big smelly pile, but that's beside the point. Composting, people! Try it.

Chris thinks I'm stupid to be afraid of lightning, but I am. Really, he should be afraid of lightning- men get struck four times more than women. Most likely, this is because men are jackasses and are horrible at gauging danger. However, lightning fatalities are nothing to scoff at. One thousand people get struck each year in the US, and about 100 die. Those who don't die have serious issues, whether they be physical, emotional, mental, or magnetic.

Chris thinks I'm nuts to be so fearful, but the Jackie that is afraid of lightning now isn't nearly as bad as the Jackie that was afraid of lightning circa 1988-ish. I wouldn't go within ten feet of the telephone or any plumbing. I would try to sit on a rubber mat, or keep in constant contact with a large chunk of wood. I wouldn't walk near a window or sip from a glass of water. Of course, I was a very paranoid child, so none of this should be considered especially strange.

But I've come a long way- I even showered the other morning during a storm, albeit against my better judgment. I'm not willing to completely let go of my fear, nor do I think I should have to considering it's a pretty reasonable thing to be scared of, but I just wish... well, I just wish I could be afraid in peace.

We got a notice about our little town's annual "fest." Here is the schedule of events:

Sheriff's Canine Unit
Magician
Fire Department
Revolutionary War Re-enactors

I hope the magician is REALLY GOOD. Like, so good that he takes off his hat, reaches in, and after a cloud of smoke appears, somehow manages to pull out a band and a beer tent.

This "fest" reminds me of some advice my father once imparted: If you can't do something right, don't do it at all. This advice has come in handy over the years. Of course, it also prevented me from doing or trying most of the things I was mildly interested it, but, eh, what are you going to do?

I will admit that I am slightly curious as to how they will reenact the Revolutionary War... here in the midwest... in a parking lot... in about a twenty minute block of time... so, long story short, I guess we're going.

We're going to Ocean and Cassie's wedding today! They were engaged when I met them- over five years ago- so this is a day that's been a long time coming. The wedding is in Lake Forest, and I'm not really certain that I'm allowed in Lake Forest. I don't have any money. I drive a cheap little car. My wardrobe is supplemented by sweaters and jeans from the thrift store. My teeth aren't as white as they could be. I was born and raised south of Chicago (never a good thing when you're dealing with certain northern suburbs). And, let's face it. I lack class.

But, if the Lake Forestians let me sneak it and if they turn their head when I stick my fingers in my mouth to retrieve my gum before dinner, then it should be a good time. Ah, snobs.