So what's been going on, you ask?

Eh.

That should pretty much sum it up.

I'll say it again. Eh.

As usual, I've been busy with work. And school. And oh yeah, I'm single now.

How about that for a bomb?

In all honesty, I'm tired of thinking about it. It happened the last weekend of September, and I didn't initiate it. To sum it up, things just weren't working anymore...and hadn't been for quite some time. Apparently, a lot longer than I even realized...but I digress.

Initially it was supposed to be a "take time apart to figure things out" kind of break. But the longer that went on, the more I realized that it was looking a lot more long term that I had initially anticipated. I guess that's what an almost eight year relationship will come to at the end.

So we've still been talking throughout the past...oh...6 weeks now. Some conversations have been good...others...it was as if NOTHING had changed. The usual fights and misunderstandings, per usual. So, I made a decision today that I didn't want to have to make...but in my heart of hearts I feel it's for the best.

We are no longer speaking. I mean, if some travesty occurs...if somebody dies or something, of course I'll call him. But I simply cannot do anymore of this daily conversations as if nothing was different.

My heart is hurting enough as it is; if I were to keep up this friendship thing, I think it would only confuse my heart that much more. Again, it's about the LAST thing I've ever wanted to do. To not have Jonah in my life is basically like not having air. Ok, maybe not quite THAT extreme, but you get the point. When you're used to having something in your life in once capacity for so long, and it's suddenly not there...well, to say your life is in an upheaval would be a major understatement. I want to be his friend more than anything in the world...but right now, I can't. I'm sure in the near future we will speak again; I'm confident in that. But for now, we're just going to do our own thing.

Time heals all wounds, and I need about as much time right now as humanly possible.

Ok, enough of that.

In other news. I'm 28 now. Yippee. Sound the trumpets!

I'm flying down to Texas to meet my pen pal (geeky as that may sound...don't make fun) Brooke, and spend a weekend in Houston! I'm totally excited, and in preparation to be a genuine southerner for a few days, I've been listening to country music and trying to work the term "Ya'll" into my daily vocabulary! Never mind the funny looks I get; it's a daunting challenge I will have mastered by the time I leave for my trip!

Other than that, not much else is going on in life. I'm trying to finish this semester and make it to Christmas break in one piece. (Though I must say, this semester is a cake walk compared to the spring. Cakewalk, I say.) I'm still trucking along the weight loss route...or the endless standoff...it's a bit more realistic if you ask me.

So that's that: The Kelly recap in a nutshell.

Exciting stuff, isn't it?

Did you ever just want to scream, but have no idea why?

That's how I feel, right now. Of course, I'm at work; nothing drives me crazier than being within these walls all day. At least in prison you get 3 meals a day.

I feel like I'm getting sick, but I'm not. I'm disappointed in myself that I elected to sleep rather than wake up and go to the gym this morning. I know I feel waaaay better when I actually make it there, but try telling me that at 5am under the warmth of my blanket.

I feel like I'm PMS'ing, but I'm not. I want to yell...I want to punch something. I feel like I'm in a rut...like a hampster in a wheel running the same path over and over. I feel completely and totally unappreciated; working harder and harder...and for what? More $$??? Ha. Not a chance. Even a thanks or a pat on the back? Hardly. I hate corporate America...I hate office life and the politics that go a long with it.

I can't wait to leave this place once and for all.

When are things supposed to change? When is life going to be good?

I know, I know; life is short...live in the moment...live each day like it's your last. I know every cliche and inspirational quote out there. But what do you do when it's hard to see the diamond amongst the pounds of sludge?

I can't help but wonder if my lack of physical activity for a day can make me feel so mentally "down in the dumps." Is adrenaline the wonder drug? I'll be honest; I finally made it back to the gym yesterday morning, and I felt great all day. Both physically and mentally.

Perhaps exercise could be the cure for all that ails ya?

Only one way to find out, I suppose.

I'm starting a new blog.

My good Texan friend Brooke gave me a great idea, and I'm going to follow in her ever wise footsteps. I'm starting a new blog solely dedicated to getting healthy, once and for all. I think you come to a point in your life when you must adopt the "It's now or Never" attitude, and that time has come. Now don't fear my loyal readers (all two of you)...I'll still be posting here. Ya know...as frequently as I do now. But I will be recording all of my weight loss trials and tribulations in my soon to be named blog.

In the meantime, I do need to post about a few things here...that I've been meaning to get to, but you know me...I'm the queen of procrastination.

1) Mark Buehrle's perfect game. You know as a die hard Chicago White Sox fan I must.
2) The kindness of strangers.
3) My little brother is off to school.
4) Gulp. I start school next week. Why does summer have to end?

Ok...I know I'm a tease...but I'm not writing about those now. In the next few days I'll get to them.

Scouts honor.

(Did ya catch that? I wasn't a scout. Oh the ever devious redhead I am.)

Tradition.

The 4th of July was always a favorite of mine growing up. My house is the "go to" for summer holidays because we have a pool and large backyard...everybody else fights over Thanksgiving/Easter/Christmas. But I digress.

I look back fondly on all holidays as a child, but I hold a special place in my heart for the 4th. I remember waking early and peeking out the window to see the sun streaking across the blades of green grass in our yard, begging to be groomed. After gulping down a quick bowl of sugar-laden cereal, I headed out to the backyard where my father would be slaving over the lawn, assuring it was even in all spots. Of course, I had to help. Sometimes he would let me push the mower a few stripes, always assuring I was wearing safety glasses and soundblocking ear muffs...and of course my work gloves...all while donning my bathing suit and current pair of jelly shoes. I was the fashionista of the late 80's, I'll have you know.

No 4th of July was complete until I knew my swing set was in perfect working order, and ready for a day of abuse by myself and two favorite cousins. The three of us together were always wreaking havoc of some sort somewhere during family holidays...namely the backyard and in the pool. We could also be found dripping wet on the patio fresh out of the water, holding sparklers lit off of my uncles seemingly endless cigar (I believe we used the term "punk") and throwing fire crackers and getting yelled at by the aunts and mothers in the house. "Why are you letting the kids play with fire crackers?!?" Ahh yes, the 4th of July.

Of all things 4th of July, my favorite tradition was the annual cement block my father would make. He would build a small mold of out 2x4's and pour cement, creating a large brick. Every 4th of July he would help me place my hands and feet in the cement, creating a lasting visual memory of how much I had grown that year. When my brother was born, he was added to the tradition as well. Eventually I outgrew the mold for the cement blocks, so we stopped. I'm not sure why we ever started this odd time line of cement masterpieces, but I'm thankful we did. Nothing says Happy 4th of July like the feeling of cold cement between your toes on a hot summer's morning!

Summer...sunburn...and Eddie K.

Summer has arrived, and it has been lethal thus far. Seriously, it's as if somebody flipped the "Chicago Switch," which means crappy, cold and rainy weather until June 21st, and then BAM: 90 and humid! I'm not going to complain, even if you can feel the humidity the second you step foot outside the door, and your hair instantly resembles the likes of Bozo T. Clown. (Ok fine, I am talking about me. Obviously. Both redheads, duh.)

I'm proud to report that I've officially had my first sunburn of the year. You know me; it's not summer until Kelly is the color of a king crab. In my defense, I didn't plan on being outside as long as I was. Ok...so I mowed the front lawn. And then I said to myself, "Self, you need to assemble the new bathroom corner shelf you bought this morning...outside...on the patio...in the 12pm sun with no SPF 70 on. And then you want to go in the pool post-shelf because you'll be sweating like a whore in church." So I did. It's Wednesday and my shoulders are still 10 degrees warmer than the rest of my body. Way to go genius!

In other news, Melissa and I went to Schubas Chicago to see Eddie K., the lead singer of my all-time favorite (if you honestly don't know this by now...) group LIVE do a solo acoustic performance. I'm not 100% sure, but I'm pretty confident in the fact that this was my 15th show. And to celebrate this momentous occasion, Melissa and I were FIRST in line to enter. Schubas is a very small, intimate venue. I'm guessing that there were maybe 150 people in there...tops. Regardless; we were front and center. I'm talking being able to taste the salt from Ed's sweat as it dripped off of his glistening body. Yum. As for the performance, stellar as always. I could never see them again..for the rest of my God given existence, and be happy with that being the last. It was utter perfection, and confirmed that if I have get a chance, Eddie K. is my "one." You know what I mean.

Anyhow, I've attached a video of the fabulous Eddie K. doing a rendition of "How Many Roads?" by Bob Dylan. This video is not zoomed in.

I was that close.

Perfection.

Will wonders never cease...

In my job, I deal with a force of roughly 215 technicians that repair the equipment my company manufactures and sells. Think of them as Maytag repair "people" (there are a handful of females whom occupy this role) that work on machines a tad more complicated than a washer.

So I'm talking to one of my local Chicago area "techs" and we get on the topic of a certain female in the company. She's gorgeous, blonde, tan, has a big rock on her left hand, and a handsome, rich fiance. The girl never has a hair out of place, and is the secret desire of most "average" looking women in this country. As we were chatting, I told him that I'd give my right leg to be her. With this comment, he hesitated, and I asked why.

Him: "Well, she's a beautiful woman, I'll admit. But she's a real bitch."

Me: "Really?"

Him: "Yeah, really."

Me: "Soooo, you're saying I'm a lot more fun to talk to and work with than Senorita Gorgeous Blonde?"

Him: "Oh yeah. Hands down!"

In this plastic, size 2, blonde mecca we live in, it's odd to hear a "typical" American guy make a comment like this. At the same time, it's refreshing. The day will never come in which a buxom, rubenesque woman will even be given the time of day over Barbie, but comments in passing like this one give us hope.

What do your dreams really mean?

In the past three weeks, I have been experiencing some very vivid, downright scary (and just plain odd) dreams. I was getting sick two weeks ago, and feeling very run down. Last week = sick all week. This week, better. However, my dreams have been completely crazy the entire time.

Let's take last night for example:

Dream #1) I dreamt that my best friend, her brother and mother all died on the same day. They live in Alaska, Texas, and Illinois respectively, and all died via different means. (Murdered, accident, and natural causes). It was a very frighening dream..one in which I woke up and honestly had to talk myself down and remind myself that they were all alive and well. Weird.

Dream #2) Sex dream #1. Robert Pattinson. Hot. Very real. Woke up crying when I realized it was just a dream. Definitely not worrying about that dream.

Dream #3) Sex dream #2. In this dream, I was engaged in some passionate, downright dirty activity with a man who shall remain nameless. To me, this person would be considered off limits for more reasons than just who he is...but what he is. It was still crazy hot and intense. Unexplainable. Especially for who it was.

Dream #4) Sex dream #3. This was with a female I know. Again, naming no names. But a female. Nothing like sex dream 1 & 2, but still...left me wondering where in the hell my sleeping brain conjured up this stuff.

In addition to these weirdo dreams, I have been having my normal dreams about overflowing toilets and bathroom stalls with no doors. I can't help but wonder if there is any meaning behind our dreams...I mean real meaning, and not just what dream books tell you.

Ideas?