pop-punk is soooo '05

I'm making steady progress through my to-do list, even though I didn't get out of bed until almost eleven today. I showered, ate a sandwich, ran errands in town, helped my mom to install QuickBooks on her new computer (a task that has previously left her a nervous wreck, given that my parents' company's financial history is all stored in QuickBooks -- but it went fine today), picked up clothes from the local seamstress (she shortened five pairs of pants, two skirts, and a shirt, charging me the bargain price of $25), and then started to pack up my room. Mom made a delicious supper -- mushroom steak, mashed potatoes, gravy, and green beans -- and I realized this may be the last time I have gravy until I come home for Christmas. My arteries may be grateful for the reprieve, but my tastebuds aren't. Then the four of us played hearts (which, along with canasta and Monopoly, got us through many long Ukrainian winter nights back in the day) before breaking up to accomplish other things. I went back upstairs later to watch Craig, who was in excellent form again tonight -- this show was dedicated to Madagascar, which was hilarious in ways I won't bother to explain here.

I'm excited to go back to California, but sad to leave Iowa -- it's especially hard given the state of the town and the likelihood that more of it will crumble in the brief months between now and Christmas. I took pictures this afternoon, which I'll post in a couple of days, but they barely scratch the surface of what it's like here. I will say that summers in a small town are amazing -- all of the overgrown trees, grasses and wildflowers make the derelict houses and abandoned stores look almost picturesque, and the people who are still around seem to be in better moods. Even the threat of thunderstorms (we had a tornado warning while playing hearts, but we didn't bother with going to the basement since the tornado was a few miles away from us) doesn't ruin the ambiance; in fact, a quick bout of lightning followed by a gorgeous rainbow at sunset only makes it better.

Clearly I'm stressed about something, though; I've been having strange nightmares and strong headaches the past few days, which hasn't happened since before I left California. Two nights ago I dreamed that I was running through a cobbled, European-style city, carrying my own dead child as I tried to escape from vampires; last night I dreamed that I was in a prison camp and three of my closest friends were killed beside me when the guards opened fire on us. So my friend Alaska Matt has nothing to worry about -- he had blogged that he was concerned that I would be so sunny and cheerful after six months off that I'd be impossible to tolerate during our usual lunches, but I'm sure I'll revert to surly and sarcastic if I keep having headaches and nightmares.

Anyway, it's more than past my bedtime; I need to get up tomorrow and pack!