In which everything is illuminated, and I prove I like lists.

I have so many things to write about and I'm not sure where to begin.

The really long comment on SheWalks' blog about my breasts?

The long conversation I had with a conservative, right-wing engineer from Iowa? About politics and gay rights?

The long conversations I keep having with women engineers, ABOUT women engineers? The fact that I hate SWE? (Society of Women Engineers)?

How I found a young sub-set of SWE that's awesome and that we're going to run--literally, run, with no help--a shadowing program?

How overjoyed I was to find girls like me--locally!--that I cried on the way home and then talked nonstop at TheBoy until he told me he'd just see me later? (He hates to talk on the phone. But more on that later.)

The long conversations I have had, ad nasueaum, with everyone around me, about the strike, and if OUR union is going to strike, and if we do what'll happen, and whether IAM is right or wrong, and the role that health care plays in everything, and Holy Shit, did you hear about Katrina? How health care costs are dragging down the country, and really, involved in everything?

Or maybe I should skip all that and talk about the trouble I got into this weekend, which involved:

live music from a blind musician,

serious drunkenness at a bar

a small miscommunication between TheBoy and I which turned out okay but is another chip in the crumbling foundation

a shotgun wedding in which the bride, six months pregnant and practically bursting her cheap torquoise satin gown, cried all the way through the ceremony and the reception was at a casino. (How do I know people like this? The groom was one of TheBoy's friends.)

And since all those things just get us up to Saturday afternoon, also the weekend included:

long walk with t-town girl, probably one of the highlights of my weekend,

retail therapy

looking totally hot and going out with a bunch of B----- kids and their friends to Pioneer Square, starting at Howl at the Moon

slicing my hand open on the top of a chipped beer bottle much later while dancing with an adorable MS code monkey at Tiki Bob's

bleeding like crazy because with all the alcohol I had been drinking, I wasn't clotting--fortunately it's just Aarwenn luck that one of the people I was partying with was a medical professional

getting the card of the adorable MS code monkey, who felt terrible and bought me a shot

making another guy (also not TheBoy) mad because I danced with that nice MS code monkey, although of course he couldn't say anything

me sweet-talking that mad boy into having afterhours at his place anyway

staying there (platonically!) but next time, it won't be

waking up late in a panic in mill creek after falling asleep at 4:30 am

rushing to church in straight from being out all night, smelling of smoke and alcohol and in tight-ass jeans and five-inch stilletos

running out of the worst church service ever--I thought about calling my choir director to quit

running home to stare at the wall for a second and recharge, but having no time for a shower--remember, still in club clothes from the night before, I just changed my shoes

running out to buy a baby shower gift and dropping it off at the baby shower, also filled with church women, and me still in my cat's eye makeup

running to Federal Way to tutor

running home

sitting on my ass for all of three hours

going out to shoot pool with hot ex

learning that the man that TheBoy thinks is his best friend has still not forgiven him for shit TheBoy pulled on him last summer, and is NOT his best friend under any circumstances

not exercising self control

going to sleep at eleven.

And then this morning I convinced everyone in my van pool to become criminals with me. Next post.