TGI (almost) F

This week it's been fun getting to know my little rat buddies, Chet and Javier. They're virtually identical in looks, but oh-so-different in personality. Here's a quick reference guide:

Chet: If he were human, he'd be the popular, football-jock party dude. He's outgoing and active, an intrepid explorer, and always the first to do something scary. He's an instigator and loves getting Javier riled up into epic three-story wrestling matches.

Javier: If he were human, he'd be the quiet, sensitive brother who has an eclectic (and somewhat pretentious) taste in music. He only deigns to do something once Chet has fully explored it and declared it "awesome." He's not very active on his own, but is more of a philosopher type.

I'll get some pictures of them in their new home later and post them.

On a completely unrelated note, I was wondering the other day if Susan or Bobby had updated their blog and I thought (literally), "I wonder what's up with Boozy and Sobbin." It made me laugh, and even more so when I realized what a great country song title that would be.

Cloris enjoyed her menthols until she started growing facial hair.

Monday, Monday

I'm picking up my pet rats tonight, finally. I'm really excited but I'm nervous, too. It's a big commitment, something to take care of. I know it pales in comparison to having a newborn baby (like Heidi and James) or even a lovable puppy, but it's still more responsibility and obligation than I've had in a long time.

But that's part of why I wanted to get these little rats. If I'm ever going to commit to something—or someone, for that matter—I need to start practicing so I don't hyperventilate at the mere thought of being needed.

I've gone out of my way in my adult life to make sure I'm not needed by anyone or anything. I flake out just enough to keep people wary of fully relying on me. But at the end of that road lies ... well, not much. Not much of what I really think I do want in my life, at least eventually.

I'm currently reading Lay of the Land by Richard Ford, and I'm loving it. It's the third in a series of books about Frank Bascombe, middle-aged and wondering what it's All About. Ford is a master in capturing that feeling of examining a life half lived, wondering if it's ever enough, or if you're even justified in hoping for more for yourself or the world. It's not pessimistic, but it's realistic enough that I really identify with it. Good things happen, but so do bad things. And no one is either fully good or thoroughly evil. The other books in the series, The Sportswriter and Independence Day, are just as filled with authenticity and earnest introspection. I highly recommend them.

It's Monday and it's dark and gray outside. But two little rats might just be the spot of warmth I'm looking for.

Sometimes Allen would gaze off into the horizon and wonder Why.

Here Comes the Sun

I'm in a really good mood today. It's surprising to me, because it's a Monday and I stayed up late last night, and I'm so sleepy and I have a headache that isn't really going away.

I think it's the weather. I've suspected for a while that I'm greatly affected by the weather, and today is such a beautiful day and it's warm and bright, and suddenly everything feels possible and positive and manageable. I'm looking forward to plans this weekend and even IM'd a friend to make additional plans to get together for brunch and a movie on Sunday.

So yeah. Seasonal affective disorder, anyone?

Heather came over on Saturday and helped me organize my front room. We made a lot of progress, and she's going to come over the next few Saturdays to work with me on the other rooms of my house. I've let things pile up and physical clutter makes me feel cluttered mentally, too. And I'm ready for a change.

I'm even starting to think about an exercise plan, now that the sunnier days will leave me a little more room in my head for other things.

And I want to start writing my novel again, and get my bike fixed and ride around town, and learn how to refinish wood furniture and work on my kitchen table, and make healthy meals every night at home, and ...

I know, I know.

But honestly, it's just nice to feel like doing anything again.

The failure wasn't in their choice of neckwear, but in the tread burn it eventually gave them.

The Boys Are Getting Bigger

I got new pictures of my rats the other day, and here they are! They've grown so much and they're cuter than ever. I'm still thinking of names, and am still open to considering your suggestions, if you have any.

The breeder said they opened their eyes Monday and Tuesday of this week, and now they're running around crazily like little toddlers. I can't wait to get them on Mother's Day weekend.

Your fingers smell like Cheetos!

Ready, set, go!

Brothers don't shake hands, brothers gotta hug!

Would You Like Some Barbecue Sauce With That Crow?

Okay, I hate it when I have to eat my words. But in this case, it's worth it.

I recently wrote a rant about my "dark night of the blogger's soul" (to use my friend Jason's words) and said the following:

I've been thinking about getting a pet rat ... But I don't want this blog to become a daily recitation of what my pet rat did and how funny it was when he fell off the chair, and how cute he is when he stands on his hind legs and sniffs the air. It's fun to hear about my nieces and nephews in those ways, because they're people I love and care about. But no one wants to hear about a rat. Not even me.

But I've had a change of heart. Here's what did it:

I found my little ratties! I found them on Craigslist today and they're already reserved for me. Furthermore, I'll be getting weekly photo updates so I can see how they're growing.

Here's what the breeder said about them:

They were born on April 8th. Right now they look like they're going to be agouti (which is dark brown mixed with black and silver hairs). Both boys are almost identical, except one is slightly bigger. They might change appearance as they grow older. They're both very pretty and healthy-looking. I'm positive they are going to have very friendly personalities. Their mother is an exceptionally friendly and easygoing rat. The boys will make excellent companions.

And here's the interesting thing: I'm surprised by HOW excited I am about getting them. I knew I wanted a rat, and thought it would be fun, but I'm actually sort of embarrassed by how giggly and goofy I get when I think about them. I kept looking at the pictures all afternoon. Here are the other ones:

They're ready for their closeup, Mr. DeMille.

Happiness is a warm butt in your face.
(Which ones are mine? Obviously the most studly ones.)

I haven't named them yet, because I don't want to jinx the whole thing. They're not really mine yet, so I have to consider them still sort of "in the womb," so to speak. But I'm thinking of names now, and welcome suggestions.

So, I'm telling you right now, I have to face up to the fact that this blog just might have an occasional—or even frequent—"it was so cute when..." entry.

And as of this afternoon, I'm completely okay with that.

It's Snowing Outside.

I saw this on Susan's and Heidi's blogs, so I decided to do it too. Here's what you do: Search for a picture on Google (or Yahoo!) Images in each category. Post an image from the first page of results.

Age on my next birthday:


I. Can't. Believe. It.

A place I'd love to visit:

India. One of these days, definitely.

One of my favorite places:

Yellowstone Park. A surreal, alien landscape right in the middle of an incredible forest.

One (really two) of my favorite things:

Laughing. And baby animals. (And baby animals laughing.)

One of my favorite foods:

Burgers. No contest.

My favorite flower:

Passion fruit blossom. I discovered these on a walk around my neighborhood in Venice, California, and couldn't believe how intricate and detailed they were. I loved the feathery purple fringe around the center. Which brings me to the next category...

My favorite color:

Purple. And not just because it was Donny Osmond's favorite, either. (Though that helped.)

The city I live in:

Salt Lake City, Utah.

Name of a past pet:

Poochie. (When I did the search, I hoped Homer Simpson's short-lived Itchy and Scratchy character would show up, and he was the first result!)

A nickname I've had:

Erin the Red Baron.

My first job:

Dry cleaning counter girl at Seville Cleaners in Santee, California. Cathi had it first, then Kristin, then me and Denise Huff. It was like the 5th ward job to have, and it was the first place I got high (from machine fumes). I just thought that unloading the machine was so funny.

My hope for 2008:

Happiness. Vague, I know. I'm still trying to define what would make me happy, so I'll have to get back to you on that.

The Blog in the Mirror

I'm conflicted by this whole blog thing. I've started blogs before, and then let them lapse into stale antiquity from neglect.

Maybe I just need a journal. I don't have a cute kid to blog about, and my life is pretty uneventful so it's not like I need an online forum to keep everyone abreast of my many comings-and-goings-about-town. And I definitely don't need one more place in my life to rant about things that make me crazy.

So then I'm just left with commenting on things that strike me as unusual, or commenting on other people's blog entries that I find entertaining. It becomes a spiral of commentary on someone else's commentary on someone else's commentary and, after a while, gets so diluted there's no point to remembering the original commentary.

I've been thinking about getting a pet rat, mostly because I'm allergic to cats and freaked out by the all-consuming neediness of dogs. And rats actually respond to their owners, and can bond and be affectionate like cats and dogs. But I don't want this blog to become a daily recitation of what my pet rat did and how funny it was when he fell off the chair, and how cute he is when he stands on his hind legs and sniffs the air. It's fun to hear about my nieces and nephews in those ways, because they're people I love and care about. But no one wants to hear about a rat. Not even me.

So this blog...well, I don't know what to do about it. I like being able to communicate with people once in a while, but I probably wouldn't be able to write anything intensely personal or meaningful, and the idea of just having a place to write sardonic commentary on random things doesn't seem that interesting to me lately.

So here's what I'm wondering:
1) Why do you blog?
2) Do you have different blogs for different audiences (i.e., a more personal site vs. a hobby site)
3) Do you think my main problem in blogging is just not having much of a life to talk about?

Thank you in advance for your input.