I know this seems like not that big a deal really … especially after getting a new home and watching Texas lose to Chicago in Roller Derby.

But I really like my fuzzy grey wool hat.

So many incredible and unexpected things have come from this experiment so far.

Selma and I have gotten to eat biscuits with people I’ve long admired from afar. Like Colleen the Communicatrix and Jennifer “Oh how I love that woman!” Louden.

But most of all, this whole blogging thing has reminded me that I’m a writer first.

Best. Friday. Ever.

I’m so excited about Northwest Knockdown (three whole days of Roller Derby championship action right here in Portland!) and the extreme ass-kicking that is about to take place that I can hardly pull it together to chicken check in with you.

Root for my girls, okay? Not like they need it. But just in case.

So we’re moving into the house that I um, propositioned. Which, yes, is a good thing. And that happens in about a week and a half.

A lot of decisions feeling harder to make because I just want to wait until we’re all settled into the new place.

So our neighborhood is ridiculously halloween-obsessed.

To the point that pretty much everyone (except for us and the people I’m about to tell you about) is going mad trying to outdo each other by having more enormous glowing purple spiders on the roof than everyone else.

And then there is this one house with nothing. Just a tiny little wooden stick in the grass by a step that says in sweet little letters: *spooky*

Part of searching for a new home requires filling out incredibly obnoxious forms with enough invasively personal information to make one (okay, me) feel incredibly uncomfortable.

Even though I know it’s just “the way things are done”, each time it happens I pitch a fit.

Because really, it drives me crazy that I have to give a complete stranger my social security number, bank account numbers, credit card number and a hundred other things, and then just trust that a. they aren’t going to do anything nefarious with it and b. no one is going to break into their filing cabinet, you know?

Ugh.

Or: It’s an Ask Havi post gone horribly wrong …
I started writing an Ask Havi, and things went oh, slightly differently than I’d planned.
Yeah, people write to me all the time with questions … but there are a few questions that are different.
These are the ones that get asked with such predictable frequency [...]

The hard stuff

Everything getting on my nerves.

I don’t know. Blame my hormones. Blame the short, dark, cold days and gearing up for winter. Blame Mercury in retrograde or whatever wacky planetary thing people like to give credit to for everything going weird.

It’s officially winter.

The truth is, I’ve been working for a few years on this particular pattern of dreading the change in season … trying to become the kind of person who likes all kinds of weather.

And I’ve certainly resolved a chunk of it. But still had that punch-to-the-stomach feeling this week on the day when it became obvious that there was no way I’d be able to even start my morning meditation without turning on the heat.

I seriously can’t stand those emails that are all in your face every five minutes with “Two more days! and “Hurry the heck up!” and “Buy now!”

But then some people only mention the cut-off date once and you totally forget, and then you resent them for basically being nice and not shouting at you.

Like this week when I wanted to do Jen Hofmann’s amazing Inspired Home Office Spa Day but forgot it was happening and didn’t sign up. And I was all, oof … why didn’t you tell me? Only way more whiny than that.

And it turns out it was in her noozletter somewhere and I just missed it.