It's my blog and I'll cry if I want to.

I've been a little quiet today (well, quieter than usual) because I've spent most of it frustrated. News from the Comcast man (who was supposed to be our Internet savior!) was not good: The cable to our apartment had been snipped (WTF!) and so we can't have Internet hooked up until a new one is run to our apartment. Then a phone call with our slightly rude landlord or building manager set me over the edge. I want to move. I want to find a new apartment, break our lease, and settle into a little bit cheaper place with my roommates and Mike. I accept that's probably not possible. One roommate absolutely doesn't want to move, and I don't know that I want to dedicate my energy to finding a new place, convincing my roommates it's the right thing to do, and well, moving. I just have this thick, sinking feeling that this is going to be a rough year at my living situation. I know it's my fault for taking this whole Internet saga as a bad omen. I just can't wait for Mike to be there, to feel like I actually live in that apartment more than just a few days during the week.

And, yes, I would love some cheese with my whine. That said, a perhaps exciting and remarkable thing is happening tonight. At least, I hope so. I applied to write for The Next Great Generation and tonight I'm heading downtown to meet with the team. I've been toying with the idea of freelancing, of pursuing a job that exercises my writing skills more acutely, of figuring out what the hell I'm actually doing with my life. So when Jenna sent me their ad looking for young writers, I jumped at the chance. I'm excited about meeting new people that are my age  and joining a team of other writers.

After reading Thursday's 29 before 29 list, I have all kinds of ideas swirling in my head for my own list in time for my 25th birthday at the end of September. I often get in my own way when it comes to things I want and getting out of my comfort zone, and I plan to make my 25th year the one that breaks the mold. Let's be honest guys, I'm not getting any younger. All that venting begs for a picture to make it right.

Mmm.