Our ladybug.

One of the constants that has been in my life since this summer has been the ladybug in the upstairs bathroom. She (I don't know the ladybug's gender, but I think of it as a "she") showed up sometime around June, happily crawling up and down the window curtain. I told mom about her, and she said, "It's supposed to be good luck to have a ladybug in the house." Since the ladybug didn't appear to be starving (though how would one tell?), we let her camp out in the upstairs bathroom.

She's been most places, but generally was found either on the curtains or on the sink. Whenever I found her on the sink, I would put down my finger, let her crawl up onto it, and place her back on the curtains. I don't know if this made her happy or upset ("I took all this damned time to get here, and now I'm back where I started!"), but I know it would have made her quite angry if she were accidentally swirled down the drain with my toothbrushing water.

Sometimes, she couldn't be found, and I'd worry. I always seemed to have a pretty good day when I saw the ladybug, or at least felt like I was going to have a good day (which generally affects how the day turns out). But a couple of days later, there she'd be, crawling across the windowsill or along the floor (frightening, because she risked being stepped on), and I'd know everything was all right with the world.

This morning, I walked into the bathroom and saw her on the floor. She wasn't walking, but sometimes, she did that. She would stay motionless until you poked at her, and then she'd at least move a little. I tried to pick her up (putting my fingertip to the floor, which generally got her going), but she didn't move. I nudged her a little, and the whole body moved, like a piece of dried plastic.

This morning, our ladybug died.

I told Mom, and she was somewhat sad ("I just saw her walking down the hamper this morning!" she said), as was I. Did this mean any chance of good luck was gone? I'm not very superstitious, but I've grown to be so with the little one occupying my space.

I looked up the lifespan of ladybugs online, and while there are conflicting ranges, it appears that most agree ladybugs generally live from a few months to a year. Since we first saw her in June, that would have given her a lifespan of nine months. I figure that's not too shabby for a little bug. (Fruit flies reading this account are most likely seething with jealousy.)

I don't know if it's disrespectful or morbid or just a little bit whacked, but I have placed the ladybug with my favorite stones on my small bookcase in my room. She's no longer in that shell; most likely she's wandering through a field somewhere in ladybug heaven, or perhaps a lace-bottomed curtain that she knew so well in life. For me, she'll always have a tiny (bug-sized) place in my heart, and I'll find something appropriate to keep her in (I know they have cases for butterflies, which I don't like, because butterfly collectors don't wait for their specimens to die a natural death, and to me that's just about on par with keeping a moose head above your mantel).

Thanks, ladybug, for giving me a little bit of hope on the days I felt I had none.

In the "Personal Development" department (to use Consulting Company language), I started two projects that I think will really pay off in the future.

The first doesn't need to be any sort of a secret. I mentioned before that I was thinking of auditing classes in order to be accepted into an MA or MFA program. I put that into motion today by filling out an on-line application for UMass Boston's English department. They have a concentration for creative writing, which I believe will be perfect for me. As I attended UMass Amherst, and the two creative writing professors I had both encouraged me to move forward with an MFA, I feel like this is a really good step.

Though the "fast-track" applications were due on March 1 (to get an answer by April), they're accepting regular applications up until June 1.

The only area which worries me (in terms of the application) is the critical writing section. I need to write a paper on a piece of literature. It's something that I've done many times before in my English classes as an undergraduate, and I certainly did critical reviews of works of art for my major, but I feel a strange pressure to make sure that this is the greatest critical essay ever written, lest I fail to impress the applications committee and am sent packing, useless BA in hand, set to always work in corporate America, rather than the hallowed halls of academia.

I also need to get ready (very quickly) to take the GREs, as my latter-day grades (Junior through Senior year of college) weren't stellar. I barely make the minimum GPA requirements as it stands (thank the gods for that last semester, when I was 25!), so I'm going to need a real boost. Luckily, I did tremendously well in the same categories on the LSATs a couple of years ago, so some brush-up studying (maybe even a course; I can afford Kaplan) should get me through that without a hitch. It's not a requirement for entry into the department, but it's strongly recommended. Considering the offers to law school I got when I took my LSATs, I can't see that as anything but a winning situation for me.

The second "Personal Development" area I want to explore comes in the form of teaching and writing. I won't get into any specifics, but let's just say that the past five years have done more than generate paychecks for me; I've also learned a tremendous amount about a Certain Software Product, and I think that, at the very least, I can tutor folks on that product. I also have spent at least three years looking for textbooks that go as deeply into this product as I have, and there's simply nothing out there. Every book I have found barely scratches the surface of what it can do, and I think I might have a great shot at a book that goes well beyond those basics.

I had thought of this before, and written a sample chapter which needs a bit of updating (for XP and 2003), but could be brushed up with very little effort and sent to whatever publishing house does that sort of book (I worked for one of those publishing houses, though they got bought out by another company; I think I still have one or two connections that may get me in the door...who'd have thought?), along with a very well-written query letter. I'm going to need to do some serious research on this subject, as I've never had a nonfiction idea in my life (in terms of publishing), but if I get myself published in the non-fiction market, I can use that as some sort of credential towards weaseling my way into fiction markets. I already have a bunch of submissions ready to go (after beta-reading) to fiction markets, as well as one or two articles which I feel I can sell to the right magazines (I have to, once again, research how to do this), so I feel like I'm on my way.

But this book proposal is just the thing, as there's nothing out on the market that even comes close to what I can offer. It may turn out that there's no use for such material, and if so, at least I'll have the benefit of an editor telling me that I can put that idea aside, since it won't sell anyway.

I can't help but think, however, of John Scalzi, who has written every type of article, book, newsletter and journal entry under the sun, and it has paid off for him. I have, in my possession, three books written by him that I picked up at my local chain bookstore, so it's not as if he's some "minor" writer.

There's a process to these things. Though I'm starting a little bit late in the game, it's not like I'm trying to break my way onto a sitcom, where they apparently only value the input of people under 30.

(If you work for a sitcom and don't hold that opinion, drop me an e-mail and I can show you some comedy scripts I have written over the years. And I'm perfectly willing to lie about my age!)

Ah, more personal development! I did 10 miles on the stationary bike today, which is the distance of the triathlon for which I'm training. I have yet to bike 10 miles and see if I can run for 3 miles after that, but according to every training website I've read, combining of events doesn't take place until at least the second stage of training. Besides, I really need Susan to make sure that I'm not doing everything entirely wrong.

I am competitive, though. A beefy consultant (I didn't think any consultant in the company was cute, but that was before I started going to the gym. Maybe it's the endless parade of golf shirts that puts me off?) took the bike next to mine and started pedaling...really slowly. I had the bike set at level 9, and I snuck a peek over to his bike, which was at level 3. At first, I thought he was warming up, but after 20 minutes, he had managed to bump it up to a whopping level 5, and was doing way fewer RPM than me.

Of course, he could have set his machine to take him on a course for 4 hours, and was conserving his energy for when he manually put in the hills. Or this was a very long warmup to a weight training session that would make me look like Olive Oyl (just about anybody's weight training session makes me look like Olive Oyl in comparison, at this point). However, I chose to think of myself as a sort of Cardio God, trekking my 10 WHOLE MILES without so much as getting winded.

I did sweat enormously, though. When they say, "Please wipe down the equipment after use," they're only leaving out, "That means you, PATRICK!" as a courtesy.

I did my wimpy-wimpy-but-getting-better weight training (chest and shoulders, for those who care), and was pretty pooped out by the time I hit the showers. Mark P. grabbed the "good" shower room (it has water pressure), so I washed my hair in sections, to better utilize the trickle that was slowly dripping from the shower head.

After the gym, I was in no mood to go back to work, but luckily it was a Slow Sunday (due, I'm sure, to the fact that Mark Z. was switching shifts so he can take tomorrow off...the scheduling gods know these things), and I had nothing to do but play on my personal laptop and occasionally check the design in-box. Oh, I am so overworked!

(I wonder: is this new job is a bad idea? Wait; what am I, insane? Remember: "A 15% loss in North America and 15% loss in Europe means a 30% loss overall." Keep that in your mind if you ever have doubts that you're going to a better place.)

Before leaving work, I called Laurie and asked her if she wanted to drop by the bookstore with me, since they set aside How to Write a Book Proposal by Michael Larsen. It was the best-reiewed book on the subject at amazon, and I'm not exactly all about the patience right now, so I called around until I found a store that had it in-stock.

"Sure!" she said, "I can pick up some boxes for the move while we're there!"

Had I known how wonderful the recycling bin behind the bookstore was, I never would have bought boxes for any move. Boxes of every size, every shape; whatever your packing needs are, they have a box for that. And they're recycling them, so they don't care if you grab some for yourself! Laurie has called before, and they'll set them aside, if you're not willing to put yourself through the indignity of dumpster-diving. As you can see, I am not above such activities:

Alas, no discontinued books in the recycle bin!

We went into the store, where I bought the guide to proposal writing, as well as a Young Adult novel called Tithe by Holly Black (I only read a little bit of it in the store, and didn't even realize that it was YA until I saw the section I was in. I think that's a good enough reason to buy a book), The Cognitive Style of PowerPoint by Edward R. Tufte (Tufte is a god among men to the data-driven folk. I'm not all that impressed with him myself, but maybe this will convince me he's not merely a data-obsessed madman), The Very Best Guide Coaching and Study Course for the GRE General Test from REA publications (I think I used their book before when I did so well on the LSAT), and an anthology called My First Time from Alyson Books (research, as they're looking for submissions right now). It was a fun collection to bring to the counter, though I had to remind myself from working at the record store that everybody thinks s/he's got the most ecclectic collection of whatever they're buying when they shop.

After shopping was dinnertime, which was spent at Bugaboo Creek. Though we got the spinach dip, we were actually quite good, food-wise. We both got grilled chicken salads and when Laurie pointed out the smashing-looking chocolate cake, I suggested we split one. She agreed, and it was a good thing, too. The cake was enough for three (though we polished it off anyway). We ended up spending less money than we usually do there, and left just full enough, not bloated and clutching at our stomachs like we usually do.

We went back to her place, where we were met by the cats who, though they'd been fed before we left, wanted something more. I snapped this picture, since I have enough dog pictures in my entries:

Apparently, they're receiving messages from the Mothership. (Actually, there's food just above their heads...still, cats receive signals from outer space. The takeover will soon begin.)

To make good on a promise to The Fabulous Robert (of whom I took a rather unflattering photo, which did not capture how good-looking he truly is), I am hereby posting three distinctively unflattering pictures of myself. I have the "pose" that works for me (camera held high, head tilted), so I went with exactly the opposite. One is taken looking down at the camera (many chins and forehead wrinkles), and two are taken in the mirror, head-on (which I hate more than anything). Y'all can decide for yourselves which is the worst:

Choice #1: Title: Yikes!

Choice #2: Title: Mirrorshot #1

Choice #3: Title: Mirrorshot #2

If it wasn't midnight, and I didn't have to get up in 6 hours to go running before my shift starts in the morning, I'd find a quick polling script so that y'all could vote on the worst. You can vote in the comments area, if you'd like.

Oh, include the dumpster-diving one in there. It's one of the worst angles for me, as I have entirely no jawline when in full profile unless I'm at least 5 pounds underweight. My brother Sean has a razor-sharp jawline, and I hate him for it. So you have four to pick from. Go for it! Be merciless!

(Of course, tomorrow I'll probably be in a fragile mood, and weep into my sleeve over all the comments. Maybe I'll bring an extra Klonopin tablet with me to work to help with the pain.)

(I kid. Don't hold back.)

(Really, just don't be too bad.)

(No. No mercy!)

Okay, I'm either very tired, or I need to seriously adjust my meds. I'll go for tired and wrap this one up for tonight.