A Year In Pictures Following The Break-Up

Let's Talk About Something Else For A While

2006-08-23T14:55:00.000-05:00

Hello there. I've started another photoblog. Sure, sequels usually suck, but... at the very least, people will be able to keep track of Young's hair.

www.ayearofworking.blogspot.com

Epilogue

2006-08-02T21:30:00.000-05:00

Sarah: One year. That's the plan.

I'm here in Boston for a week, helping Sarah settle into her new apartment, before I fly back home to Chicago. Today we stopped by the theater where she'll be performing and both snapped some pictures. Preparing for the move, Sarah bought a digital camera and started a photoblog of her own.

Sarah: I was really excited about my first entry, a picture of my suitcase in my empty old apartment. But then I realized, ahhhh, your blog started with a suitcase. It's the same thing.

Me: It's not the same thing.

I keep catching Sarah slyly trying to take pictures of me and I think, "I hope I don't look fat on her blog." It seems fair, though.

Sarah was (is) the girl.

Uh... now what?

2006-06-23T11:53:00.000-05:00

Yep. That's it. (although, at some point, if something presents itself, there will probably be some kind of epilogue post, for the sake of symmetry.) Thanks for reading and thanks for commenting.

I'm looking forward to taking some time off, but I'm sure I'll eventually start another "Year" of something (don't know what yet) and when I do, I'll be sure to post a link here.

Until then, keep in touch.

2006-06-21T21:09:00.000-05:00

This day, June 21st, has been a significant date for me for several years but it wasn't until recently that I realized that it's also the summer solstice, the longest day of the year.

I guess I could have tried to spend the day doing something deep or symbolic, but things are busy at work, and that would have been kind of silly anyway. I did have about an hour around dusk, though, between work and heading out for an improv meeting to go out and walk around the neighborhood with my camera, hoping something poignant would happen to me.

And nothing did. But it was nice. I nodded to people walking their dogs. I saw rabbits run back and forth across yards. I watched at least seven planes move slowly through the sky and thought about how nice it can feel to come home.

I tried to take pictures of what I could, but rabbits are fast, planes are far away, and some moments aren't easily captured or translated.

Occasionally, if it didn't seem like anyone was looking, I would hold my arm out as far as I could and take a couple candid photos of myself. Those came out pretty alright.

a year following the breakup,
Arnie

2006-06-20T22:59:00.000-05:00

Mom: [via voicemail] Some bad news about Holden. He hadn’t been eating for the last three of four days. Initially we thought it was maybe because Allie went back to school for summer training. He’s been acting goofy as heck lately, trying to get up on the chairs, even when I was in the room, trying to get down into the basement. Anyway, today he took a nap and I couldn’t get him to get up. I called Dad and he came and took him to the vet. The vet said it looked like he was in some pain and we could try to keep him alive for a couple of months or put him to sleep. Dad decided to put him to sleep. I’m... I'm surprised. I feel really bad about it. So… there’s no more Holden.

2006-06-19T22:42:00.000-05:00

The girl had a long term relationship come to an end around the same time things were coming to close for N and me. She had a few drinks with her ex, J, on Thursday for his birthday. He talked about the girl he's dating now and asked about me. She told him about this blog and gave him the address. "I just thought he would like it."

This sort of surprised me. Not that I mind J reading it, but I know this weird blog, and the fact that I tend to write about the bad more than the good, must frustrate her. She's better about it than most people would be, but the picture of N and I about to kiss certainly made her sad. "Sometimes I hate your blog," she said, "But it's also, in a way, part of how I fell in love with you."

J read the blog and wrote the girl that it was a strangely voyeuristic experience but that he liked what he read and he thought I seemed like the kind of guy he would enjoy talking to. "I've always said you have good taste in men," he wrote. I can imagine myself making that same joke.

People ask me if N knows about this blog. I say, "I don't know." I haven't heard from her since before I found out she was diagnosed with MS. I've thought about e-mailing her recently, not to prod her into a response, but just to let her know I'm still doing well. I don't want it to seem like just more material for the blog, though, so I've decided to wait a bit.

When people ask me if I think N knows about the blog I also say, "I doubt. I really doubt it." They seem dubious that she wouldn't have googled me in all this time, but I know her better than they do. She took everything that might remind her of me and put it in a shoebox, and put that shoebox in her closet. But she'll keep that shoebox, just like she kept the shoeboxes for her other ex-boyfriends (most of them, oddly, named J).

I keep a lot of junk, a lot of it literally trash, but I don't have any shoeboxes. I looked for one today. Young didn't have one either.

Okay, wait for it... I guess this is my shoebox. One than I'm very close to putting the lid on and stowing away.

Someday, if N does see this, I hope it doesn't upset her too much. And I hope it makes her think that I seem like a guy she wouldn't mind talking to.

2006-06-18T23:35:00.000-05:00

The girl has been wanting me to meet her family recently, so for Father's Day I drove us out to the suburbs for her big family barbeque. We stopped at a mall on the way so she could buy golf balls for her grandfather. While there she slipped into a party store and bought me a ribbon that read, "MVP," I guess as a sort of thank you in advance.

Three moments:

1. A small child kept staring at my wide-eyed. I smiled at her and said, "Hello there." She immediately started screaming and crying.

2. Someone asked the girl why she was wearing sunglasses, to which one of her aunts replied, very loudly, "Because Arnie beats her up, right?"

3. "We should get a picture of you two together," one of the aunts said, and then just before the flash went off, "You know how it is with couples and pictures, right? As soon as you take a picture together, you break up."

It was a good time.

2006-06-17T18:53:00.000-05:00

Hansen had a barbeque which led to a girls versus boys game of washers.

Maloney: Two points! Yay!
Young: [angrily] Remember what we talked about at the grocery store?

2006-06-16T19:48:00.000-05:00

Even the most creative writing, when done all day, can become monotonous. The ladies at work decided to do push-ups to clear their brains. Chris watched.

2006-06-15T23:31:00.000-05:00

Kirk, the history teacher at Nick's school, is an old high school friend of mine. I hadn't seen him in years but he stumbled across this blog and saw Nick in it.

Nick: Here's how I know that he knows you... he said that it was weird because he hasn't seen you in so long, and last night he pretty much was able to catch up on the last year of your life in an hour. "But that's Arnie!" he said. So you were always known for the quick and pithy life synopsis, huh?

I grabbed a beer with Nick and Kirk at the Holiday Club. Kirk and I talked about the fact that we've heard a handful of people we went to high school with are living in Chicago, but, besides Tom, neither of us are in contact with any of them.

Kirk: Some of my grad school friends are even starting to drift away now.

2006-06-14T18:02:00.000-05:00

My parents set aside a small amount of money for each of their children's potential weddings. Nothing extravagant, but a nice amount.

One day over the summer, when I was living in Ohio, Mom mentioned that she had opened some of my mail ("I thought it was for me, I didn't even look at who it was to," she fibbed) and saw my credit card statement. It was nothing ridiculous, but yes, I had some debt hanging over my head that I was slowly grinding out payments on. She offered to pay most of it off with money in my wedding fund.

Mom: That way you're not battling the high interest rate.

First I was angry, then defensive, then a bit demoralized. I'm an adult, right? Finally, I agreed that it made sense.

Mom: After you finish paying off your credit cards you can pay it back. Or not. Really, it's your money. But if you don't, you just won't have that money whenever you do get married.

I'm not exactly debt-free, now. I have a car and student loans, but last month I paid my last credit card bill. And I recently made my first payment back into my "wedding account." It feels good to do something so optimistic.

Honestly, I can't see myself entertaining the idea of marriage or another engagement for a long time still, but it seems important to put that money back where it belongs and towards what it was intended. It's one small adult gesture.

2006-06-13T23:33:00.000-05:00

This calendar was on the wall in my grandmother's room. "Vacation Month" seems like a cruel theme inside a nursing home, a place almost no one wants to be.

I visited N's grandmother once, with N and her father. During my visit, at least, N's grandmother tried to hide her Alzheimers with a kind of elegant misdirection. If N's father asked her a question she didn't understand or know the answer to she would lean over conspiratorially to N or I, patting our knee and smiling as if to say, "Do you hear that silly question? That question is too silly to answer. Let's, you and I, not answer that question."

Afterward, as N's father drove us all back to his house he said that he never wants to get to that point, and mentioned, off-handedly, that he and his wife, N's mother, have an informal suicide pact for when they get old. It was hard to tell how serious he was, but it clearly upset N, who sat in the back seat, and I sensed that this subject had come up before.

I sat quietly in the passenger seat, not knowing what to say, but when N's father speculated that the hard part would be picking the right time, not too early, of course, but hopefully not too late, I nodded my head a little in agreement. That moment would have to be impossible to find. I would certainly slip completely into senility for fear of going too soon.

2006-06-12T19:35:00.000-05:00

Tom is 30 now.

I sent him a text message reading, "so, was the day after 30 worse than 30?"

He replied, "Actually today is 30. And it's not too bad so far. But I'll let you know tomorrow."

I typed back, "what?! i thought your birthday was on the 10."

"Not so! June 12."

"my daily planner lied to me."

"Never trust a daily planner."

Happy birthday, Tom.

2006-06-11T22:34:00.000-05:00

The girl and I went to Ravinia for an Elvis Costello concert. We had lawn seats ($15) so it was impossible to see any part of the stage, but the music was all around us in the air.

People have been asking me if I'm going to move to Boston. I answer, "I've instituted a strict no-moving policy."

The girl and I have been discussing the possibility of a long distance relationship, even though it is, obviously, not ideal. There is the worry that long distance relationships are like virtual pets. Time to feed my relationship. Time to play with my relationship. Yay, my relationship is happy. Oh no, my relationship is dead.

Girl: I loved virtual pets. But, yeah, all of mine died.

2006-06-10T23:13:00.000-05:00

Things like weddings and babies seem to come in waves. Recently a lot of people have been breaking up.

A while back I mentioned an anonymous friend who was breaking up with his live-in girlfriend until they decided to try to work it out. That friend was Glynn, and sadly, things ended up not working out after all and she, Kerry, is moving out at the end of the month. He jokingly suggested that since I was going to be done with this blog soon, he should take it over.

He also said that "not long ago (or AGES ago, depending on your outlook)" he had considered asking me if I'd be willing to sell him N's engagement ring so that he could have it reset.

Glynn: Would it have seemed sleazy if I approached you about it?

I think that would have been a nice way to get rid of the ring. Then again, maybe, like the pig bank N and I used to save for our wedding, it's bad luck.

[I did, by the way, check with Glynn to make sure it was alright to share these things. And he checked with Kerry.

Kerry: I can't believe this is what it took to get in his blog.]

2006-06-09T12:47:00.000-05:00

I suppose I could kick around a couple metaphors about healing and emotional scars, but really, these days I find my literal, physical scars more interesting. When I rub my finger along my bellybutton, there is a jagged line there now.

It's strange to think that it'll be with me forever.

2006-06-08T23:20:00.000-05:00

Had some drinks with Jeanine. She recently broke up with her long-distance touring-musician boyfriend ("It happened over e-mail, which is terrible, but he doesn't have a phone, which was part of the problem") and tomorrow is the last day at her old job.

Jeanine: It's sad. And scary. But I don't mind change. Some people hate change, but I like it.

Then she pretended to fall down, which she does often.

2006-06-07T23:23:00.000-05:00

The girl got her hands on some amazing free tickets to the White Sox game. Ground level, row five. My first White Sox game and the first time I've ever been that close.

The White Sox won.

Girl: Maybe YOU'RE a good luck charm for the Sox.
Me: That seems fair.

The girl is moving to Boston in August. I will miss her.

2006-06-06T22:30:00.000-05:00

Watched the season finale of the Sopranos, which I had recorded on the DVR for the girl and me.

[I guess I should say No Spoilers, at least for this season]

Years ago I recorded all of season four of the Sopranos for N, waited to watch them until N had time, and then we slowly caught up together. It's how a nerdy guy expresses his love, I guess. "I will tape our shows for us."

We watched the finale of season four the night I planned to propose to N. I could be wrong, but I don't think anyone died in that episode. It simply showed Tony and Carmella's relationship finally reaching the bitter breaking point. An exhausting hour ending in their separation.

It seemed like a bad time to give N the ring, but I had backed myself into a corner. She was going home for Christmas the next day to visit her family. I wouldn't see her until New Years, and then she would be expecting it. I decided I preferred the surprise.

If it seemed strange or sad to N to get engaged the same night we watched a relationship fall apart, she never mentioned it. Instead we went from room to room in her apartment, seeing how the ring looked under different light.

2006-06-05T16:10:00.000-05:00

While playing Cranium with the family, we kept saying things like, "Did we do these cards last time? Are we using the same side of the deck? Didn't we have to hum the Pink Panther theme last time?"

Then I looked at the extra pad of paper in the box. The picture on the left is from this game. The one on the right is from Christmas. They are both, I have no doubt, "desert."

2006-06-04T16:57:00.000-05:00

The other main reason for my visit is to finally see my new nephew, Will. He seems very good-natured, but he is also a spit-up machine. He spits up so often and at such volume that everyone was a little concerned until a doctor explained that it is completely natural.

Still, the spit-up comes frequently and in huge gushes. At one point I didn't even see it happen, but heard it and the sound was like liquid being squeezed from an athletic water bottle.

He is also quite strong for his age, like the Hulk, if the Hulk spit up a lot.

2006-06-03T16:10:00.000-05:00

One of the main reasons for my trip to Ohio is to see my grandmother and check out the nursing home where she's staying. It seems reasonably nice, I suppose, clean, but as Grandma said, "When I get in bed, I look up at the ceiling and think, is this where I'm going to live?"

Grandma: This is where Ralph died, you know.
Me: He did?
Grandma: He was here a couple weeks after the hospital. Cancer.
Me: I thought it happened in the hospital.
Grandma: No, he died in this place. I just figured out what room last week. It took me a while to figure it out because it's over on the other side of the building.

My two year old nephew, Ty, was with me, and as we were saying goodbye, Grandma leaned down to him and said, maybe joking, maybe not, "Take me with you."

2006-06-02T23:22:00.000-05:00

Hometown, Ohio. The present.

Mom: I thought your camera was broken.
Me: Well, it is broken. Something's broken on the little door in front of the lens, so the camera doesn't know when it's on. I have to hold it open at a weird angle to trun it on. It's awkward, and I keep accidentally turning it off midpicture, but I can get it to work.

To demonstrate, I surprised both of my parents by taking a picture of them

Mom: Oh great. I'm sure I looked like a real winner in that picture. With some of the pictures of me that end up on your blog, I think I wish your camera was broken.
Me: I think I can keep it working until the end of the month.

All joking aside, that exchange did happen at Cheddars, but I'm using this picture instead because it's more flattering.

2006-06-01T12:58:00.000-05:00

I took this picture on December 4, 2004.

Living in Arizona, with N, I always wanted to take pictures of her and she hated it. So, sometimes I would be sneaky. For this picture I hid the camera in my lap and just as we were about to kiss, I took it.

Of course, taking the picture stopped the kiss from actually happening. A giant flash of light went off, N looked at me, looked down at the camera, sighed.

Sometimes I wonder if this blog is like that.

2006-05-31T18:51:00.000-05:00

I'm going to Ohio to visit my family this weekend. I'm very excited.

That is not why I posted this picture.

This is the first picture I ever took with my Canon PowerShot S50. I took it on July 15, 2004.

Today, I think I might have broken my camera. This is not good.

2006-05-30T17:24:00.000-05:00

Starting a new job can be tough, no matter how awesome the place or friendly the co-workers. I remember when I started Jellyvision it took me a while to not feel lonely in a crowd despite many efforts to welcome me.

Shane has started working at Jellyvision this week. I guess he's the new new writer. If you look at this picture carefully you can see him in the far back right. He's the one quietly watching the Dance Dance Revolution competition from his desk.

2006-05-29T22:48:00.000-05:00

Despite being a die-hard Sox fan, the girl got a deal on some great tickets to the Cubs game so we went to Wrigley Field along with Trupe and Wonak. She was on her best behavior, cheering when the Cubs did well, although, whenever I asked who she was rooting for she'd respond, "baseball."

It was a great game. The Cubs won, which seems like a rarity anymore.

Girl: I don't think I've ever been to a Cubs game where they've lost.
Me: Really? What if you were somehow a lucky charm for the Cubs?
Girl: That would be HORRIBLE.

2006-05-28T20:37:00.000-05:00

I took this picture several weeks back when at the Blackhawks game. It was then that Meador first mentioned that he and his girlfriend were breaking up. I haven't had a chance to see him much since then, except for the occasional e-mail.

Me: How are you doing?
Meador: Good. Not great.

Today, though, we went to the theater and saw a crappy movie double-feature. First we saw X-Men 3 ("If I could have any mutant power I'd love to get something that involved flying, but I'd probably end up with the power to clean up messes"), then we snuck into the Da Vinci Code ("I'm going to get a tattoo of Tautou punching an asteroid").

Meador: You know what, this is the most fun I've had in a while.
Me: Me too.

2006-05-27T23:29:00.000-05:00

Alex: Hey, here's an idea, why don't you look like you forgive me in this picture?

Apparently Alex has gotten in a little trouble with his girlfriend over my recent magician post.

Megan: I'm not really mad at him, I am just teaching him a valuable lesson which is... always tell trashy girls hitting on you that you have a girlfriend. He never gives me cause to be mad so I am enjoying this quintessential female moment of making my boyfriend grovel. It is a right of passage really.

2006-05-26T19:52:00.000-05:00

A beautiful day in Chicago. Everyone is outside enjoying the warm weather.

Fuzz falls from the trees, filling the air, and covering the ground in what looks like cottony snow drifts.

Current temperature in Arizona: a million degrees.

2006-05-25T19:27:00.000-05:00

Chris brought a slightly beat up puppet in to work today. His girlfriend thinks it's ugly and wants it out of the apartment.

Chris: I'm pretty much doing whatever she says right now. I thought Jellyvision would make a good home for it.
Thea: What's it called?
Chris: I don't know. It doesn't have a name.
Me: How about Madison Moore?

Chris used the rod attached to the puppet's hand to make it cross itself, as if giving the sign for invisibility. The name Madison Moore seems to work equally well for a vampire pimp and a one-eyed girl puppet with pigtails.

2006-05-24T12:36:00.000-05:00

The girl and I were the last people to leave Mark's going-away party Saturday night, much later than we'd planned to stay out.

"We should get some kind of prize," the girl said.

Mark replied, "Hold on," and grabbed this Oscar-looking trophy. "I had to accept this at an award ceremony a long time ago for a girl I had a crush on. I never got around to giving it to her and I've been carrying it with me ever since. You two should take it."

So, now the girl and I are Best First Nighters, 2001.

2006-05-23T18:44:00.000-05:00

I love television. Sure, most of it's crap, but when done well, I enjoy nothing more than a good serialized story. Still, when May hits I'm glad that most of my shows will be done for a while, and I won't have to keep up with quite so much television.

The same goes for this blog. With less than a month left, I'll be sad to see it go, but I'm also ready for a break. A hiatus, at least.

I get asked a lot how it's going to end. I don't know. Nick suggests it should end with me selling the ring.

If this were a television show, it would probably end like most season finales, with either a cliffhanger or a wedding. Maybe N would be getting married. That would be a nice ending. As she walks out of the church, and bubbles fill the air, she drops her cane. She's cured! No more MS!

And there would be a slightly bittersweet but mostly hopeful music montage of all the people who have appeared on the blog this year. Josh and Andrea raising Josh's brother in Arizona. Brett feeling a kick from Natasha's belly. My parents share an appetizer sampler platter at Cheddars. The Teenage Prayers and the 1900s play a double bill. Meador gets a tattoo of a centaur punching an asteroid. Bella, the cat who might have diabetes, eats bravely from a cat dish. Grandma Anne coldcocks Uncle Kenny and jumps on a riding lawnmower with Wentworth Miller to make her escape. Zach the Nad changes his IM handle to something more reasonable. Everyone lives where they want to live.

As the music swells, I step out of my apartment building and past the Mini Flea (which is packed with customers) and look up as a plane flies by. I smile. It's a good day. I cough a little into my handkerchief (I don't have a handkerchief, but go with it). I look at it. There is blood.

BOOM! Cliffhanger! See you in the fall.

2006-05-22T19:41:00.000-05:00

Mark moved to Chicago from Arizona around the same time that I did last fall. Since then I've probably seen him four or five times. Now he's moving to New York to get his PhD and live with his girlfriend, Jessica. He had a going away party over the weekend.

Some Guy: I can't believe it. You're moving!
Mark: Yes. Yes. I'm tired of hearing people say it.
Me: You're staying!

2006-05-21T19:27:00.000-05:00

Kate is moving back to Chicago from New York to live with her boyfriend, Shad. Young and I helped them move furniture into their new apartment.

Kate: We're going to need to prop that door open somehow.
Shad: We can use the bungee cord.
Kate: I've got some twine I can use to tie it open.
Shad: Why would you use that when I have bungee cord? What do you have against bungee? Every time I suggest bungee she decides to use some weird other thing.

[as Kate tied an elaborate knot of twine to keep the door open]
Me: Do you really have a problem with bungee?
Kate: No, but it's just sort of become a thing.

2006-05-20T18:29:00.000-05:00

While Mom and Allie did some shopping, Dad and I wandered up and down Michigan Avenue looking for something to do. Dad wanted to take the boat tour ("That way we can learn something"), but they were sold out.

At the Gap, I noticed that Dad was looking at socks next to Wentworth Miller, of TV's Prison Break.

GAP Worker: Yeah, he comes in here most mornings. If you ask me, I'd be much more excited if Jack Bauer came into the store.

When I told Allie about it later she asked, "Does he really have those tattoos on his arms?"

2006-05-19T22:57:00.000-05:00

My parents and Allie are in Chicago, visiting. They stopped by Jellyvision to see where I work and later had dinner with the girl. It was strange that everyone who met each other knew each other via the blog. Mom said, "this is Amanda's office, isn't it?" Later Amanda said, "And you like... Applebee's?" On our way to meeting the girl for dinner Mom couldn't stop bringing up the Shitbox joke.

Mom: Do some people not like it when they're on your blog?
Me: I feel like most people don't like it. You don't like it.
Allie: I like it. I'm like, "Cool. I did something interesting."

After dinner we went to the Hidden Cove for karaoke (Dad: I do a mean Glenn Campbell) but it was too early for it to start, so we called it an early night. Everyone was tired and Dad wanted to get back to the hotel because the car was "making a noise."

2006-05-18T11:23:00.000-05:00

I took this picture at the Chicago Improv Festival afterparty a few weeks back. Two girls from an out-of-town sketch group started talking to Alex. Alex has a girlfriend but seemed to innocently enjoy the attention.

As Glynn put it, "You know you're not going to buy anything, but sometimes it's nice to run a credit check."

Alex: If I had been trying to pick them up I would have experienced the greatest cock-block of all time. Magic! This magician came around and started doing magic tricks. And the thing is, I love magic. And these were actually pretty good tricks. But he just kept doing them. The girls were paying less attention with each new trick. He should have just done a couple tricks and tried to have a conversation. After seven tricks he just gave up and left.

A week later, Alex ran into the magician again, trying to pick up girls with the same tricks.

Alex: Part of his shtick was, "I learned magic so I wouldn't have to be good in social situations." I said, "That's funny, because for me it was pretty much the opposite."

2006-05-17T23:08:00.000-05:00

I continue to get a steady stream of people coming to my site looking for Drake Bell. "Drake Bell recovery pictures." "Pictures of Drake Bell's mom." "Drake Bell with mustache." Apparently my life and Drake Bell's life are not entirely dissimilar.

I've also started to get a number of hits from people looking for the upcoming romantic comedy "The Break Up." And then, of course, there are searches both strange ("picture of a metaphor for nursing") and oddly accurate ("boring my friends with my breakup").

My recent favorite, though, is not all that weird or funny, just, "a year since the breakup, arnie." It's the comma that I like, as if turning the phrase into a valediction at the end of a letter. Sincerely, yours truly, a year since the breakup, arnie.

2006-05-16T22:31:00.000-05:00

In case you're worried that I wasn't a good son on Mother's Day, I got cards to Mom and Grandma in the mail well in advance (for once).

Also, Allie (home for summer break) did the legwork (and took this picture), but it was my idea to get Mom this carnation.

"From: Secret Admirer"

2006-05-15T17:52:00.000-05:00

Nick brought Jane to the James Jackson brunch. When she started getting fussy he pulled some pictures out of his wallet. "She likes looking at pictures of herself," he explained.

2006-05-14T18:18:00.000-05:00

Made calls to Grandma Anne and Mom today.

Grandma: Kenny took me to the house so I could get some of my clothes. They're not doing a very good job with the lawn. I guess it's not my business anymore. I'll probably never go back there again.

I took this picture at Grandma's farm house back in August. It's two pictures of my mom.

Mom and Grandma Anne have had a strained relationship over the last few years, largely due to Kenny, but lately Mom has jumped back into the fray to help make Grandma's living situation as nice as possible.

The latest battle is letting Grandma have any kind of money of her own. She has plenty of money in the bank, but Kenny will only let her have $15 of it. So there she sits in a nursing home room with only $15 to spend on anything for who knows how long.

Mom: I was out there for a meeting with Kenny last week and I mentioned that the nursing home has little bank accounts for the patients. I said it in front of the doctor and shamed Kenny into opening one for Grandma. He opened a $50 account for her. I went back the next day to check that he'd actually done it. I put another $50 of my money in there and told her it was for her birthday. So now she has a little something.

It seems to me that mothers and grandmothers are people who are always slipping a few dollars (or religious trinkets) into your pocket or suitcase, saying, "shhh, just take it" or often, without you even knowing it, like a guardian angel with a five dollar bill. The idea of mothers and grandmothers doing this for each other is both wonderful and sad.

Happy Mother's Day.

2006-05-13T13:56:00.000-05:00

A reunion brunch with my old improv team, James Jackson. It wasn't until I had almost finished eating my omelet that I realized it was an All You Can Eat and Drink brunch.

Why yes, I WILL have another mimosa. And bring back the menus, please.

2006-05-12T19:08:00.000-05:00

Strange work day. Amanda and I rented a van and drove out to Ikea to buy new desks for the office. Ikea is doing some remodeling. The caution tape made furniture displays look like crime scenes.

Me: [looking over the rail from the third floor] I'm not afraid of heights but I do get a weird vertigo feeling sometimes.
Amanda: My father told me that people are afraid of heights because they're secretly worried they'll jump. I don't have that problem because I'm not suicidal.
Me: But I'm not suicidal either.
Amanda: No, apparently you are.

2006-05-11T17:43:00.000-05:00

But what would come up if someone (say, any ex-girlfriend) were to google my name? Thanks to my work bio at Jellyvision, the first thing that comes up is, "Arnie _______ is bad for you."

A page or two in, this blog comes up as well. In fact, I'm fairly certain at least two women from my past have left comments on the site. Neither left any kind of contact information, though, probably because they know that I am bad for them.

2006-05-10T17:04:00.000-05:00

In high school and college I remember Tom and I always planned to move to different cities every couple years, constantly moving on to new parts of the country. As I got older, though, I started to see the subtle pessimism of that idea, assuming that no place would make me happy enough to stay.

I went off to grad school in Arizona. Tom went off to grad school in Minneapolis. Tom found that Minneapolis felt like home. Later, Chicago felt like home for me.

Tom: I don't know if Chicago is that place for me. I miss Minneapolis. Steph loves Minneapolis, but it's too far from home. Someday we'll either end up back in Minneapolis or Ohio. Ohio would be okay, but it would be a solitary life. Me, my home, my family... that's it. Either way, we're not moving anytime soon.

The good news is... Tom found his missing 'D' CDs. "They were in a shoebox."

2006-05-09T15:45:00.000-05:00

Coming home from work yesterday, I saw police tape blocking off a seemingly empty patch of sidewalk next to my building. Then I realized that there was a possum perched on a fence in the middle of it. No police officers, no animal control people, not even any gawkers, besides the girl and me. Just a wild animal and some police tape.

The girl said, "When an animal comes out like this in the day, it means it's about to die."

It just sat there like the world's most pitiful King Kong.

"What's going on?" an exceptionally happy man asked after crossing the street.

"A possum."

"Well what do you know," he said, smiling, and then stepped into the adult video store.

2006-05-08T13:01:00.000-05:00

Allie sent me a My Space message which read, "i was talking to my coaches today about how i was going to go see one of your shows and they were like 'wait, your brother does what? that's weird because you aren't funny and neither are your parents.' ha and they are right. i don't know where you got it from. if we didn't look alike i would guess you were adopted."

But the next day she posted this picture to her blog of what it would look like if we swapped eyebrows. And I think it's pretty damn funny.

And I can't wait for her to visit.

2006-05-07T17:22:00.000-05:00

Over dinner, Meador made the mistake of letting Nick get a hold of his blackberry. Nick immediately sent a text message to a random person in Meador's phone book, using Quick Reply sentences. "Can't talk. Where are you?" Luckily, Nick refrained from also using the Quick Reply "I love you."

(I keep going back and forth between thinking an "I love you" text message Quick Reply is ridiculous and thinking it makes total sense.)

Trupe: This is like the time Nick got in your Netflix queue and messed it up.
Meador: I didn't realize he'd done that until I got 'Tango and Cash' in the mail.

2006-05-06T16:36:00.000-05:00

I called Grandma Anne today to wish her a happy 83rd birthday. Things seem to be a bit better. She's in a bigger room now, out of the Alzheimer's unit. Julie and Sherry visited her and took her out to lunch. She also played bingo.

Grandma: I won a little bag of chips. I gave them to Julie's little boy.
Me: That was your prize. You should have kept it.
Grandma: Oh hell, he needed 'em more than I did.

We talked a while longer and then it seemed like time to get off the phone. "Well," I said, "I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday. I should get going. I love you. I'm going to try to come out and visit some time soon. And I'll call soon too. It was good talking to you."

There was a long pause and I wasn't sure if I should hang up, because she hadn't responded. Finally she said, "Those were good times... when I would come over and you were little. They went by so fast."

2006-05-05T13:17:00.000-05:00

Amanda's mother came into the office yesterday. Amanda seemed happy to see her but also a little trepidatious. Rightfully so, because everyone immediately started trying to get embarrassing stories out of her.

"Mom," Amanda yelled, "Get in here. Get in my office. Sit down. Mom, sit down!"

When Amanda caught me taking this picture through the window she started screaming, "NO NO NO!"

That's when everyone started chanting, "Let her out! Let her out!"

Amanda's mother burst out of the office with a big smile on her face and said, "I don't know if I should tell this story, but this one time in preschool..."

Amanda grabbed her mother by both arms, "Mom!" she said, looking her straight in the eyes. "Mom! I'm the president!"

2006-05-04T21:02:00.000-05:00

A friend recently confided in me that he and his long-time live-in girlfriend were breaking up. He wondered if I could give him some advice on "logistics." The idea that I've become a break-up expert is strange to me, but I was willing to help in whatever way I could. Luckily, they decided to try to work things out and my services are no longer needed.

Meanwhile, Mary has moved in with her boyfriend after dating him for one month. Her lease was up, so she decided to jump in. "When I tell you these things," she said, "I can sense you judging me."

"I'm skeptical," I replied. "But I hope it works out. And if it doesn't work out, you'll be okay. And if it does, it's a storybook romance, right?"

I've been thinking about leases and love. I wonder how many relationships end because the lease is up? I mean literally. For N and I it came down to, the lease is up at the end of June, do we sign up for another year together? The answer was no. I don't think either of us were one hundred percent certain that we wouldn't have been able to make another year work, but the chances were slim. And if we were going to lose each other, we didn't want to lose our security deposit too.

2006-05-03T11:04:00.000-05:00

Went out for a few drinks after Otis rehearsal last night. We ended up talking about weird things that had made us cry.

Joe was screening a Nova video at the school where he teaches and that made him cry.

Marc (left) claimed that he almost never cries, and certainly not at movies. "One day, though, a picture sent me on, like, an all-day crying jag," he said, laughing.

"What was the picture of?" Joe asked.

"An ex-girlfriend. Her brother had taken it and given it to me. She was on the phone in the kitchen, sitting in this weird, uncomfortable position. There was this Quaker Oats can behind her. She had the biggest smile on her face. And I knew that I was the one she was talking to. I saw that picture and I was all mwuh-huh-huh-huh."

2006-05-02T16:38:00.000-05:00

My recent post about Marla's husband and his bike accident was picked up by a French blog about blogs. I translated the entry using Babelfish and this is, more or less, what it says:

"The photograph published this Saturday on A Year In Pictures Following The Station-wagon-Up, the photoblog of unknown American, Arnie, struck me. A young woman brown, pensive, with a dress color leopard, the head on side, posed on the shoulder of his/her husband, face, the marked face, an inflated and closed eye, cap behind."

I heard once that the French have a saying, "to translate is to betray." Of course, they say it in French.

2006-05-01T21:04:00.000-05:00

Make no mistake, I have a uni-brow. Growing up I just lived with it. In college I started shaving the middle part, always nervous that I was going to slip and slice an eyeball open.

Recently I was talked into getting my eyebrow(s) waxed. It was terrifying, not because it was particularly painful, but because I didn't know how far the woman was going to go. We talked briefly beforehand and she put me at ease ("I don't like overdone eyebrows either, we'll keep things simple and natural-looking") but as soon as things got started there was wax on the sides and above and she didn't say she was going to put wax there... is she going to wax me down to two weird lines?

In the end it looks fine, and no one has really noticed, except for my boss, Amanda, who can sniff out a reason to make fun of someone from a mile away.

2006-04-30T23:33:00.000-05:00

I know, in theory, that Allie, my youngest sister, has grown up and is finishing her first year of college, but at the same time, I often catch myself thinking of her as younger than she is.

I read this post from her blog and thought, "She's right. That picture doesn't look much like her. Her hair seems different. It's probably not wise of her to post a picture of her ID on-line. Wait, why is her ID from California? That doesn't make any... Oh. That's a fake ID. I get it. She's not even being particularly sly about it in the post, but it went right over my head. I'm dumb."

This post is followed by one where she writes, "I went to church this morning and the sermon was great as usual but it really got me thinking." I can imagine Mom reading Allie's blog and being unhappy about the fake ID but somewhat comforted by the fact that Allie goes to church every week. "I guess more than anything I left church with a question. How do you stop negative thoughts, feelings, and actions from getting to your heart and corrupting it? This question is supposedly going to be answered in the next two weeks. The problem with that is I will be out of town."

2006-04-29T18:18:00.000-05:00

Steve gets a visit from Mr. Crane.

2006-04-28T23:12:00.000-05:00

After a late night of CIF after-partying, Whirled News Tonight hopped in a van to Cincinnati to perform at a university there.

During the show, Steve told a story about how when he was a kid, when he wouldn't get out of bed in the morning his father would come into his room and say, "Steve, Mr. Crane is on the phone. He's on his way over. If you don't get up immediately, he's going to have to come and use his crane to lift you out of bed." Then his father would sing, "Mr. Crane, Mr. Crane, Mr. Crane..." and forcibly lift Steve out of the bed. Apparently this continued well into Steve's teenage years and he would dread the arrival of Mr. Crane.

I wonder if I'll ever reach an age where taking pictures of people sleeping stops being funny to me. I hope not.

2006-04-27T23:30:00.000-05:00

Whirled News Tonight had the great honor of performing on the Chicago Improv Festival mainstage tonight. It was a much bigger stage than we're used to performing on, but it was a good show.

Afterward, downstairs in our dressing room, drinking free beers and eating free burritos we were interviewed by the festival archivist. I mentioned that CIF was in some way responsible for me moving to Chicago the first time.

When I was going to grad school in Arizona, years and years ago, I visited Chicago for one of the early CIFs and saw long-form improv for the first time, performed by the Upright Citizen's Brigade. N and I had been thinking about moving to Chicago, and seeing the possibilities of performing improv helped me decide that Chicago was where I wanted to go.

And Chicago is still the place I'm happy to be.

2006-04-26T14:09:00.000-05:00

Girl: I did something bad.
Me: Uh, okay. What happened?
Girl: You left your drawer open and I saw N's ring. I didn't mean to snoop, but I saw the box in there... and I opened it.
Me: That's fine. It's not a big deal.
Girl: I just wish I hadn't. It's weird. I feel weird that I saw it. Why do you still have it?
Me: I don't know. Not for any reason.
Girl: I'm sorry. I wasn't snooping. I don't snoop.
Me: I don't keep it in there to keep it close or look at it. It's just in there with a bunch of other junk. Not junk... just... stuff I don't know what else to do with.
Girl: I'm mad at myself for looking at it. Why did I look at? Now I'm going to be thinking about it. [long pause] Yikes. Yikes stripes.

2006-04-25T13:55:00.000-05:00

Two last things about the morning show appearance.

1. The concept of the Whirled News Tonight show is that we improvise scenes inspired by newspaper articles selected by the audience. For our ABC-7 appearance Kevin Roy picked a news story, read it on-air and we did scenes.

Before our segment started he was talking to us, trying to put us at ease.

Kevin Roy: So, you guys don't know what news story I've picked?
Us: No.
Kevin Roy: I'll give you a hint...
Us: ... we don't really want a hint, the whole point is...
Kevin Roy: The key word is gas. If you can't come up with anything funny about gas, you're in trouble.
Us: ...thanks.

2. After we were done, we snuck onto the Ebert & Roeper set, where we took pictures and whispered things like, "Quick! Quick! Shhh!" and, "All thumbs up or thumbs down? Or a variety? Shhh!" and, "We gotta get out of here before someone catches us. Shhh!"

2006-04-24T20:24:00.000-05:00

This is what I look like on television.

I've never been a fan of local news, or local newscasters, but I must admit that I liked Kevin Roy. He did a good job of putting us all at ease, especially me, designated "on-air captain" and interviewee.

During the interview, the few times I stumbled, Kevin Roy was there in an instant, keeping things moving. And it's easy to stumble. The festival is taking place at the Athenaeum. Where is the Athenaeum, again? Uh, can't remember. It's on Southport isn't it? Yes it is on Southport, thank you Kevin.

I wonder if anyone caught my favorite mistake that I made. When talking about the improv festival I said, "There are dozens of shows, hundreds of groups, thousands of performers."

There are not thousands of performers. There are maybe about a hundred performers in the festival all-told. Halfway through the sentence I thought, "Uh oh, these numbers are escalating too fast. I should have started with something lower than dozens. Oh well, I guess I'm just going to say there are thousands of performers. No turning back now."

Kevin Roy didn't bat an eye, just kept us moving forward to the next discussion point, like a man guiding his wife across a busy intersection, his hand casually, but firmly at her back.

2006-04-23T19:44:00.000-05:00

Glynn, Young, Steve, Alex, Shane and I were on ABC-7's weekend morning show this morning to promote Whirled News Tonight and the upcoming Chicago Improv Festival.

Our stage was in a big room behind the main news set and next to the area for kitchen segments. There were two Roomba-like cameras slowly moving without operators.

Rushing around during a commercial break the morning show producer asked, "So how long is this skit?"

We had to explain that we were going to improvise some scenes so it could go as long or short as they wanted. It would be totally made up on the spot.

"Great," she said. "The segment will be three, four... seven minutes. I really don't know."

The sound guy set up the third microphone stand and said, "You guys can sing directly into these."

"No, we're not... we're not a musical act..."

2006-04-22T16:39:00.000-05:00

Last night was Marla's karaoke birthday party at the Hidden Cove. Unfortunately, earlier that evening her husband, James, was almost hit by a car while riding his bike and ended up hitting the pavement with his face.

Marla: I got the phone call and it was like, happy birthday, my husband's dead.

Luckily, he hadn't broken anything and they both made a belated appearance at the party.

James: It looks worse than I feel.

As I was taking this picture I noticed someone was singing a karaoke version of "Hit Me with Your Best Shot."

2006-04-21T12:24:00.000-05:00

I was recently reading my co-worker Mary's blog and noticed she ended an entry with the words, "My life is perfect." That sentence really struck me as a bold statement and something I could never imagine myself writing. Not that my life is bad, or even, frankly, that I think my life isn't as good as Mary's, just that a claim like that seems to be tempting fate a bit. It's the kind of thing someone would say in a movie trailer right before everything goes into slow motion, fades to black and is followed by the sound of something horrible in the dark.

Then again, Mary ended a different entry with "The shawl is perfect" and maybe I just have a problem with the whole concept. I remember playing a party game years ago where people would answer questions about themselves and everyone else would try to guess how they perceived themselves.

One of the questions was, "How good of a listener are you on a scale of 1 to 10?"

I considered the person who got this question a very good listener so I gave them an 8. Their answer: I'm a 10.

This blew my mind. A 10? What kind of maniac ranks himself as a 10 for anything? Is 10 even an attainable number? Most of all, if you consider yourself a perfect listener, you're probably not a good listener at all.

I know that this is really my own hang-up, and not necessarily a flaw in Mary's thinking or Listener 10 (although... 10?! that's clearly nuts, right?). Truth be told, perfection frightens me.

That said, my life is going pretty well. I'd give it an 8.

2006-04-20T13:01:00.000-05:00

Haircut.

Young: It was fun while it lasted.

2006-04-19T12:07:00.000-05:00

Last night was my first visit to the United Center. Young was very excited that our tickets told us to enter through Gate 2 and a half, as if we would have to walk through a wall and hop on the train to Hogwarts. In reality the half gates were the entrances to the luxury levels, which are their own kind of magical experience.

Within two minutes of walking up to United Center, I spotted some people I know: Justin, Rachel and Sanchez, who moved to Chicago from Arizona around the same time I did (Justin and Sanchez, you may remember, transported the Giant Bed).

Me: What are you guys doing here?
Sanchez: You should have called me. We're in a luxury box.
Justin: Free food and booze.
Me: I'm in a luxury box too. Luxury box wars!

It was the end of the season, and the Blackhawks had no chance of going to the playoffs. General attendance was sparse. I'm sure demand for the luxury boxes was low. I imagine most of the boxes held people like me, folks of little importance (friends of employees, neighbors of clients) tasting some luxury ("Hot dogs, chicken sandwiches AND mini hamburgers?!") at a game that doesn't count for anything.

2006-04-18T23:10:00.000-05:00

Hansen got comps for Nick, Meador, Trupe, Young and I to tonight's Blackhawks game for his law firm's luxury box.

Trupe: Should we pretend to be clients of yours? If so, I say we're land barons.
Hansen: Please all be land barons and wear silk cravats and ruby stick pins.
Me: I want to be a billionaire's son who keeps killing people but has the money to get away with it.
Trupe: Young can be the threatened, trembling accountant who has to cook the books but whose conscience is eating him alive.

2006-04-17T21:06:00.000-05:00

I got a My Space friend request from my youngest sister a few days ago. I don't think she's been on My Space very long but she already has about a hundred messages in her Comments section ("we are soooo going to dinner:):):):)"). This was followed by a message that she'd "figured out" who the girl is and that they are now My Space friends as well.

Saturday, the girl also mentioned this. "It's cute. But I need to edit my page. I'm sure your mom is going to see it."

The next day I talked to Mom on the phone and she had in fact seen it. "She seems cute."

"Oh no!" the girl screamed and immediately jumped on a computer to check out the damage.

"I don't remember there being anything that bad on your page," I said.

"My stupid friends," she said, scanning the Comments section of her page ("Hello slut!") and shaking her head.

2006-04-16T19:41:00.000-05:00

I was surprised to find the Easter Bunny had left me a treat in the refrigerator. I was even more surprised to notice that we have two cartons of Fat Free Sour Cream. Odd.

Not a whole lot else in the fridge right now.

2006-04-15T16:08:00.000-05:00

Called Grandma Anne. She sounded better (less medicated?) but still deeply unhappy to be in the Alzheimer's unit. She also mentioned how much she wanted to be able to go mow her lawn. She's always taken pride in the fact that she mows her own quite-sizeable lawn.

The dangers of not being able to do your own yardwork because you've been placed in a nursing home include:

1. The concern that it's not being done properly, overgrowing for all to see, heaping indignity on top of indignity.
2. The loss of exercise, access to the outside world and a sense of self-worth.
3. The probably legitimate fear that your son and his wife are moving their daughter and her unemployed husband into your house against your wishes.
4. The seeming pointlessness of it all.

2006-04-14T23:59:00.000-05:00

Some College Town, Illinois.

I was asked to perform in an IO Roadshow. It was a fun show, despite the lack of promotion on campus and the fact that we were competing for an audience with a salsa band, an indoor miniature golf course and a Super Smash Brothers Melee video game tournament (Steve: It smells like sweat and balls in there).

The three hour van ride and our pre-show Olive Garden dinner had Middleditch (left) and Lyons (right) tuckered out, but the student activity board's complimentary mock-tails woke everyone up in time for our set.

2006-04-13T23:58:00.000-05:00

The girl and I went to the 1900s show at the Hideout with Trupe and Wonak, and Nick and Katie. Katie actually gets a pretty prominent name check ("touch down for Katie Jane") in their song "Bring the Good Boys Home."

The Hideout stage looks sort of like Talent Show Night at summer camp.

2006-04-12T22:46:00.000-05:00

Brett: (via e-mail) So I hope this isn't out of line, but you have seriously got to stop calling _____ "The Girl" in your blog. Or at least never call her "the girl I'm dating" again. Seriously. if you haven't already, you will definitely hear about it.

I've gotten a lot of suggestions about this in the comment section of this site. People have recommended the pseudonyms Helen, Anastasia, Babs and O.

I got an e-mail from my friend, Alice, in Arizona who is a traveling nurse and helped me out a lot after my gall bladder surgery. She wrote, "i too, think she should at the very least have a pseudonym that is not "the girl". i like "Tina". that's a nice fake name. it's sassy and simple. is your girlfriend sassy and simple?"

I IM-ed the girl herself and asked her what she thinks I should call her.

Girl: Well, the boring choice would be _. Do you already have a _? Babe, I don't really want ANYTHING from your blog, I just want to read it. So I don't care what I'm called, just as long as you call me sweet things in person.
Me: Okay, Shitbox it is then.

As C might say, who gets to decide what a legitimate identity is, anyway? Here, on this blog, I guess I do. For now she will remain, affectionately, the girl.

Happy semi-anniversary Shitbox.

2006-04-11T22:07:00.000-05:00

It's a nice 64 degree spring night out tonight.

Tonight is also the first time all of the radiators in the apartment have ever turned on all at the same time. Full blast, no less. It's the kind of heat that we really could have used in the dead of winter. Now, though, it's really just annoying.

2006-04-10T23:46:00.000-05:00

Swamped with work, but it was such a beautiful day and I knew I'd be staying late anyway, so I decided to go out to lunch with some co-workers.

Conversation turned to our favorite things we'd seen in Chicago. For Evan, it was a bus load of clowns running into a bar yelling, "We love clowns!"

Allard (pictured) told a story of filming a video piece for the last You Don't Know Jack game. He and Poland were on the beach, Poland dressed as a pirate and Allard in a gorilla suit. As they were filming, an SUV drove onto the beach, went past them and then drove off a dock and straight into Lake Michigan. As the SUV started to sink, the driver got out and started swimming farther out into the water.

Lacy: So, wait, what was the guy trying to do?
Allard: I don't know. The police and the news showed up and we were the only witnesses, a pirate and a gorilla. The cops couldn't believe we didn't catch it on tape.

2006-04-09T20:31:00.000-05:00

Finally did my taxes. I hate the strange combination of tedium and stress, but at the same time I do obviously like breaking down a year. And it was a long strange year. Two states. Two W-2s. One 1099-MISC. Even a little 1099-G. Travel deductions. Moving deductions. Medical deductions.

I can deduct movies I've seen too, so I have a lot of ticket stubs. N and I saw The Interpreter on 5/13 apparently. That seems odd, because I remember it as being a nice night out even if the movie was only so-so. It was very close to the end. And at that point we must have already decided that things would be over soon. Right?

I suppose I could try to tease out some metaphor now about taxes and relationships, and levels of investment, and is it enough or not. Maybe toy around with an emotional refund joke, but really I'm just worn out from all the math.

Oh, but for the first time in years, I'm actually getting some money back.

2006-04-08T23:55:00.000-05:00

A super-secret shot of Young on date #6.

2006-04-07T22:54:00.000-05:00

Julie e-mailed me Will's 3 month pictures. Incredibly cute. He's very expressive. This one may be my favorite. Will looks sort of alarmed, as if Ty is holding a gun to his back, whispering, "Just be cool, and we'll get through this without anyone getting hurt."

2006-04-06T23:15:00.000-05:00

It's come up in conversation a few times recently that I don't know how to get in contact with any of my old girlfriends (except for one, N, and we're not in contact). So, I decided to try googling them. Here's some of what I found. Forgive the High Fidelity-ness of it all.

H - Married. Attorney in Pennsylvania. According to a family genealogy site she's a proud parent to a four pound Chihuahua named Scott.

J - Name too common to ever find anything.

A - Honestly not sure if I'm spelling her name right. Maybe she's married. Maybe she's working in DC. Maybe she runs a lot of marathons. Or maybe it's not her at all.

C - Director of an Effective Teaching Center at a university in the south. A lot of scholarly papers about identity and who gets to decide what a legitimate identity is.

M - Assistant Professor of English at a college in Indiana. In the town, I think, that she grew up in.

D - Only two sites came up, one of them from the time we knew each other in college. The other was minutes for a meeting with a motion to approve the reduction of her position by 3.5 hours. It may not have even been her.

R - Short stories in literary journals. No new ones as far as I can tell. Teaching at an elementary school in either Brooklyn or the Bronx.

Mostly, though, very few details about anyone. And, oddly, no one I've ever dated in the past is on Friendster or My Space. In fact, I'd probably have more luck finding an old flame on RateMyProfessors.com.

2006-04-05T22:10:00.000-05:00

Yesterday morning I noticed a steady stream of water bubbling out of the cracks in the sidewalk in front of my apartment. Yesterday afternoon the water continued to flow, except someone had put an orange traffic cone down in the middle of the gurgling.

This morning a full crew was there tearing up the sidewalk. They were still there when I got home from work.

"There's no water," Young said, as I came into the apartment, using the back door since there was a giant hole right outside the front. "I don't know how long it's going to be out, but... it doesn't look like they'll be done anytime soon."

He was quiet for a while and then looked up at the ceiling and said in a voice filled with regret, "I pooped."

2006-04-04T20:17:00.000-05:00

Sick.

2006-04-03T22:02:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was opening day. Young took the plastic insulation off the windows and I opened them up for the first time in months, letting some fresh air in.

Meanwhile, the White Sox had their first game of the season. This had the girl, a die-hard Sox fan, very excited. I don't follow baseball, and when I do I'm an as-lazy-as-they-come Cubs fan, but I watched the game with her. "I'm not superstitious, except for baseball," she said. "And I feel like it's a bad omen if you lose on opening day."

"What happens if the game gets rained out," I asked, trying to take pictures of lightening out the window.

"I don't know. Unpredictability?"

It rained. The Sox game was delayed. The windows were shut.

After the rain stopped, the Sox beat Cleveland. And the next day, today, the Cubs beat Cincinnati.

2006-04-02T22:53:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure at what point my Grandma Anne had to stop going to school because her time was needed back on the farm, but I think it was right around the fourth grade. Mom has mentioned that she's not sure how well she can write, beyond signing her name. "My whole life, I've never known her to write a letter."

She's written at least one letter, though, this one, that she sent me a few years ago.

I called Grandma Anne in the nursing home today. I hadn't talked to her in... well, too long.

Me: How is the place? I mean, I know obviously you should be in a better place.
Grandma Anne: This isn't the right place.
Me: I think Mom and Dad are trying to get you to the place you want to be.
Grandma Anne: They have me on the Alls-timers unit. I'm with all those people.
Me: I know. Probably no one to have much of a conversation with.
Grandma Anne: No, no. You can't talk to them.

We talked for a bit and then she sensed it was time to get off the phone.

Grandma Anne: Well, thanks for calling. I always like hearing from you.
Me: I'll try to call again soon.
Grandma Anne: Don't forget about me.

2006-04-01T18:39:00.000-05:00

Jeanine stopped by to hang out and show us her band's new CD.

Jeanine: It drops on May 30th.
Me: It drops?
Jeanine: (laughing) Yes, it's totally going to drop.
Me: I wish I had something dropping.

We listened to the CD and watched Sling Blade on mute, as if the 1900s was the soundtrack. After that I played a CD Poland had made of his children singing songs about animals.

Jeanine: I don't know if I'll ever get married. A husband and children, I'm not sure if I want that... but I do want a family band.

2006-03-31T20:51:00.000-05:00

April Fools came a day early to Jellyvision.

Someone moved Poland's television into the kitchen and his camera and monitor into the refrigerator. So, for him to be able to see or hear anyone, the refrigerator door had to be opened.

Poland: (wearily) Yeah, they do this every year. Last year I was in the bathroom all day.

2006-03-30T22:53:00.000-05:00

Nick is back from Ireland.

Nick: Katie and I went to this little pub in Kohb. These guys were setting up a security camera, pointing it at the dart board, so if you were around the corner, you could still see the board on the tv screen. They had just joined a dart league and they were in last place, but they were super-excited. "Ian, it's fooking brilliant, we're on the telly!"

Nick brought back gifts, including the hat Meador is wearing in the picture.

Unfortunately, Nick had just found out that the 13 rolls of pictures he'd taken on the trip came back completely blank. All the pictures were lost.

Nick: I couldn't believe it. I took some awesome pictures. It felt like being gut-shot by a friend. You look down, you see the blood, and you look up at your friend like, "you did this? you shot me?" And you die never quite believing it.

2006-03-29T13:19:00.000-05:00

Hansen's new tattoo. The plan is for his wife to get a matching one with his name on it.

And there's supposedly another rumored Hansen tattoo in the works as well.

2006-03-28T22:12:00.000-05:00

During a meeting at work today I noticed that Mary had scribbled a heart followed by two plus signs on her notepad. I asked her about it and she explained that once she had seen a white heart spray painted on an interstate overpass. A year later she saw a plus had been added to it. A year later, another plus. She said that she likes to imagine the same man comes back each year to mark how his love has grown. Heart plus plus. I wonder if it's a lovesick graffiti-prone computer programmer.

Mary seems to have recently come out of a long period of not being able to get over her ex-boyfriend, who is a magician. Literally, a magician, as in "pick a card, any card" magician. "I'm tired of the hearing jokes about him doing a disappearing act." This went on for a long time. "I just can't get over him."

Last week, though, she went on a juice fast, quit cigarettes and started a whirlwind romance with a wealthy ex-football player. "I'm jumping in feet first. We had a moment where we looked into each other's eyes and said, 'yes'."

The new writers took turns congratulating and teasing her about it.

Mary: He's big. And he told me that if I needed it, he could hurt any man for me. All I'd have to do is point at them and he'd go to jail if he had to.
Me: That's healthy. There couldn't be any downside to that, personality-wise.
Mary: Don't make me point at you.

2006-03-27T21:28:00.000-05:00

Grandpa Paul is out of the hospital now and back home.

Aunt Becky (via group e-mail): He was thrilled to be back in his own chair, and even drove yesterday, with Tom in attendance. Paul drove to the post office and bank this morning, and he's in his glory.

Aunt Ginny (via group e-mail): At one point the social worker said he was lucky to have so many family members interested and willing to help him. His reply was, "that came from their mother" - it brought me to tears.

2006-03-26T12:46:00.000-05:00

In Arizona, where I bought my Camry, you only need a license plate on the back of your car. In Chicago you're required to have one on the back and one on the front.

I went to a dealership to have my new front plate attached. The front plate frame says something like "Metro-Chicago Toyota" but the one on the back, that came with the car, still says "Desert Toyota."

When I'm driving, Arizona is always right behind me while Chicago is right in front of me.

2006-03-25T17:54:00.000-05:00

Travel stories.

1. Jordan (pictured) recently returned from a trip to Kenya. "I just climbed Kilimanjaro. What the fuck have you guys been doing with your lives?"

2. When I was moving out of my parent's house in September, Mom made a joke to Sherry that it would be her turn next. A few months later it was. Mom and Dad just finished helping Sherry move down to Miami. So all of the kids have lived back at home for a bit over the last year or two. And now we're all out. For now.

3. Nick (via e-mail): I am at a Coffee-2-Go in Kilkenny. We rented our car and left Dublin this morning, almost died several times on the road. Just had a pint of Smithwick's and Shepard's Pie. We also shook a 1-fingered man's hand, as he accosted Katie at the bar. Yesterday we drove through the town of Naas, dodging Naasguls all the way.

4. Brett (via e-mail): So Natasha & I have not been on our honeymoon. We did go on our trip, like we planned, but it wasn't our honeymoon. We refuse to let that trip be our honeymoon. The cruise was a ridiculous, lame and miserable experience full of shitty food, shitty weather and old people. We actually ended up jumping ship in Mexico. We took a bus to the border, walked across the border, took a trolley to San Diego and a train back to LA. That whole day was actually the most interesting and scenic day of our entire trip.

5. I should really go somewhere.

2006-03-24T23:11:00.000-05:00

A delicious but exhausting Korean Barbecue dinner with Hansen, Meador, Trupe and Young. We accidentally ordered way too much food, and cooking it ourselves at the table it turned into a two hour process of constant passing and cooking and eating. Conversation couldn't get much past "have you tried this yet?" or "oh, better get that off the coals."

Trupe: I'm proud of us.
Meador: I love a meal where you're working towards something.
Hansen: A heart-attack?

Afterward we went to Goldie's and had a... heated isn't the right word, but very serious debate about the hypothetical centaur-punching-an-asteroid tattoo. Trupe is still dead set against it ("Meador, if you get that tattoo you'll lose me as a friend") and I think that, although tricky, it could be done right.

Trupe: Okay, Arnie, you like it so much, would you ever get it tattooed on yourself?
Me: Oh, no.

2006-03-23T21:11:00.000-05:00

A little while back I got an e-mail from Mom about her tutoring work, with an update about Hooks, the self-proclaimed "most hated" girl at Hometown Ohio Elementary School.

"things seem to be more in control. today she told me that she was having a great day!! they were doing folk dancing & the boy she likes asked her to be his partner so she got to hold his hand!"

2006-03-22T12:55:00.000-05:00

The strange ways people find this site seem to have settled down a bit. I do get a decent number of people looking for info on "The World Series of Pop Culture" and one person who websearched "how to trim your pubes pictures" but now most of the websearch that lead here suggest that the person was specifically looking for this site. "a year following the breakup." "arnie breakup blog."

Except that I've also started getting a lot of people (preteens I assume) looking for Drake Bell. "pictures of drake bell." "does drake bell have a girlfriend." I looked up Drake Bell myself (it's easy, kids!) and he has a band and his own show on Nickelodeon. I am 30 and have a blog about my breakup.

2006-03-21T17:25:00.000-05:00

Saturday night, I was having some drinks at the Gingerman with Trupe, Hansen and Young when an older gentleman came up and showed us that he had sketched the four of us. "You can have it," he said. "You don't have to pay me anything. Although you can if you want."

We pitched in and gave him a little money even though we hadn't asked to be caricatured.

Looking at the sketch, the middle two are Hansen (talking about Guitar Hero) and Young. That leaves the outside two to be Trupe and I, or maybe Will Ferrell and a young Richard Benjamin. It was finally agreed that the one on the far right is me, because I sometimes make that expression, and I apparently have flipper arms.

Later, across the street at Wrigleyville Dogs, we ran into the sketch artist again. This time, instead of quietly sketching people, he was staring off into space and loudly proclaiming things like, "what if I told you I had the secret to saving your eternal soul," and, "there are so many ways to betray God." His voice sounded pre-recorded and involuntary.

We decided to ignore him as best as possible, but soon he was staring directly at our table, saying, "judgment and jokes at the expense of others will be like ashes in your mouth."

2006-03-20T20:22:00.000-05:00

One last mustache flashback.

Thea made yarn mustaches, goatees, etc for the women of Jellyvision so they could participate on Mustache Day.

2006-03-19T22:43:00.000-05:00

Sometimes you stop seeing the reminders that are right in front of you.

N had her own login on my computer. There wasn't much in there besides a few family Christmas pictures and a desktop wallpaper from the television show Charmed. I finally got around to deleting it today.

Or maybe it was more like this: I went into the Control Panel, altered the login name from ______ to N and took a few pictures. After that it seemed ridiculous to keep the N account, as if a fictionalized version of ______ was using my computer to check her e-mail, so I deleted it altogether.

Now it's just me and Guest.

2006-03-18T15:37:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was St. Patrick's Day. This morning, the girl I've been dating caught me eyeing this dry vomit-covered tree as we walked past.

Girl: Oh no. Are you going to put that in your blog?
Me: It crossed my mind.
Girl: Gross.
Me: Something about green not being the only color for St. Patrick's Day.
Girl: Orange is actually one of the colors. It's for Northern Ireland.

2006-03-17T14:16:00.000-05:00

We decided to do a March Madness pool at work. Instead of filling out brackets, though, we each drew three team names out of a wicker basket.

My first draw was, eerily, Arizona.