2000-09-24 - 8:50 p.m.

Now playing: Mandy Barnett, "Three Days" from her eponymous debut album. Soon I'll skip up to track 6, "Now That's Alright With Me" and then when that's done skip to the next disc.

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So today was Reeds Landing's 5-year party. Wasn't all that thrilling. It was nice hanging with Melanie and Grampa, though. And Dad surprised us by showing up. Regardless of his reasons, I'm glad he was there, at least for a few minutes. After that, I hung out at Melanie's for a little bit. Alexandra's growing so quickly; it's amazing.

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So this morning I made a disc of .WAV files made from mp3's. I burnt it at 1x but my car player still can't handle it. Very frustrating. *sigh* I hope newer-generation car CD players can handle home-burnt CDs better than this one. This 1995-era Sony is exponentially better than the 1992-era Pioneer I had before that, so hopefully a 2001 or 2002-era player will be light years ahead of my current one.

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I can't believe it's almost time to go to work again. Where did these two days off go? Yesterday morning I slept away, I know that. But geeze! I need to take a 2-week vacation. One week vacations are too short - I just finally get relaxed, and then it's back to the salt mines.

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Yesterday I felt all productive because I actually brought all the clothes from last weekend's Great Wardrobe Clean-Out to the charity boxes. Whew. Glad they're not staring me down in my bedroom anymore. Now to just do the laundry from having company..sheets and towels...stuff I don't want to lug to Mom's. Doing laundry there is getting to be a chore. How I wish my apartment had hookups. Why didn't I think of that in 1996 when I was apartment-hunting? I guess I was too hurried back then to even think about it. Grampa called on like a Wednesday afternoon to tell me he'd sold the house, and on Saturday I checked out Home Like and decided it was fine. Too much of a whirlwind, I guess.

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And speaking of moving, last night I had a dream about 48 Appleton St. (the former family homestead). I dreamed that I was there visiting some Asian lady who'd just moved in, yet remnants of the Hartfield occupation were still there. I'm sure the dream interpreters would have a great time with that. I guess the wounds of having a miserable childhood run deep and manifest in ways I'm not conscious of.