I don't know where to begin

I should begin by folding my clean laundry. But I'm here. So let's press on.

I don't even know if this will post because I haven't been able to ftp to the site. If I could, I'd show you pictures of my bathroom yesterday, which thanks to a friendly neighborhood gas leak, wound up looking like a war zone. Zuleika was terribly confused, and I ranted and raved. Walls and ceiling and litterbox are back in place now, with a fresh coat of paint. So there you go: replacing pipes is fun and easy, as long as you don't own the property.

My class ended last week and my dad was in town visiting this weekend. He kept me busy at the zoo, the beach (what flesh-eating bacteria? sharks? what sharks?), the Aurora Picture Show's gong-fest, the Houston Press Music Awards showcase, museums, the arboretum, and relentless pursuit of pie. I find myself apologizing to visitors for things in Houston beyond my control: the traffic, the weather, the potholes, the miles upon miles of commercialism. But truth be told, I like this place and I feel like I've found a good niche.

And then what?

There's a GRE book on my coffee table (thanks Jen) along with Amelia's notebook and other books for teaching. I still don't know when and what I want to pursue in graduate school, or if there's a better way to get where I want to be--which is CJ from West Wing (although not really). I also keep nearly missing people in the UH creative writing program, which is beginning to feel like a less impossible goal than it once did. I could study under Nick Flynn. I could be Elizabeth Bishop.

And then. What.

I want so many things. I want to take guitar lessons. I want to make my own clothes. I want to knit a scarf. I want to read all those books I've been meaning to, and then the ones I haven't. I want to get married and have babies. I want to go on writing field trips. I want new things to replace the old things. I want to drink more water and do good things for my body. I want a career. I want to take pictures. I want to watch the West Wing DVDs. I want to love deeply.

A list of material possessions I am juggling at the moment:

1. The time has come for a new car. I want a hatchback, something with cargo room to make up for 6 years of driving a Neon. The last time I replaced a car, mine was dead (RIP Deet) and I bought the first car I test drove because I liked the color and it was cheap. Now the paint's peeling, I have more expenses, and I've no idea where to start. However, if I can shave $200 off the monthly rent I pay now, that money can go into car payments, which leads me to...

2. The time has come for a new apartment. I swore I'd never move again unless it was out of the state or to a new city, but here I am and I'm paying too much. So on to move #4 in this city (the post office hates me. HATES me).

So what does a person do after giving 30 days notice and vowing to start test driving new and gently-used cars within the week?

Obviously, she runs away to Austin, which is where I'll be all weekend. If you need to reach me, I have a new phone. But the number is the same. I try not to make too many traumatic changes in one month.