Man, oh man, alive.

So many different ways to go with this one.

I'm having a hard time deciding whether it would be fantastically hilarious or insanely idiotic to begin by saying "So this is what it feels like...when doves cry." Those feelings of confusion and indecision are a nice little hallmark of my current emotional state, so at least it's fitting in thematically.

Let's go back in time to one week ago today, shall we?

Basically, the bastard who purchased my childhood home knocked it flat over. Gone. Shock? Yes. Surprise? No. My entire family knew it was coming eventually. It's funny, actually. Last tuesday night, Sally was coming to sleep over at my place. I knew that they had taken down the garage at that point, so I figured I'd drive her through the alley on the way to my apartment to show her that. Imagine my surprise as I pulled up to where my garage once was and could see straight through to the house on the other side of the street. The next morning, I went over there and take a couple of polaroids as suspicious construction workers used a giant crane to scrape the mess out of what used to be my basement. I was thinking of scanning and posting the shots, but we're probably all a little sick of pictures of rubble at this point.

Thanksgiving day, I went to pick up my little brother at his place to take him to my mom's new house. We stopped by the site of the old home. We walked around, just feeling melancholy and soaking in the surreality of it all. I found a piece of wood which I'm sure was part of the old dining room table we left inside.

It was just a splinter of an object that was the central part of 30 years of birthdays, thanksgivings, christmases, graduations, anniversaries, family dinners, discussions, arguments, games of chess with my dad. All of those things soaked up in a little piece of wood. Very weird. I almost took it, but...it was a piece of wood.

We did take a tiny fragment of the original siding. The only fragment we found. We gave it to my mom, who frowned and said "awww," when she saw it.

And so ended the first calamity.

Last night: car accident.

During the last hour of my class, I had become so anxious to leave. I was feeling exhausted, hungry, unhappy, and very annoyed with discussing the love lives of our stupid little fictional characters. The class just went on and on. Just as I thought it was over, someone raised a new point, and I found myself unconsciously, impatiently slapping my leg and leaning back in my chair. I just wanted to go.

So, we finally do end the class, and my professor was driving me home. It was raining and cold, and the streets were slick. The ride itself was fine, except for the fact that we hit every red light in the city. We're about a block and a half away from my apartment and we come up on a street light that is just beginning to go yellow. I think to myself "If we just make it through this light, then I'm home...there's only a stop sign between me and home after this light. I will be home in one minute." Like I said, the light was just turning yellow. The car was going at just the right speed and was just the right distance from the light that we could have gone either way. In this situation, I've stopped for the light, and I've also ran the yellow. I've done each a million times, depending on how I felt.

She stopped. We got rear ended. The culprit was a Pizza Hut delivery man with origins from somewhere in the Balkans. His name had a lot of consanants.

So, after I write this, I'll be heading out to get my neck checked. It's not uncommon for me to wake up with muscle stiffness, but I'm not taking any chances.

And such was the second calamity.

And now, bluntly: Sally and I broke up.

Nice week I have going here, eh?

We actually had the break up conversation before the car accident, but who says I have to be linear?

Without whoring the traumatic details of my personal life too much for entry fodder, I'll say a few things about what happened.

First: We are currently in a state somewhere between couplehood and broken up completely. We are figuring out what to do. It is very sad and confusing. We have been dating, after all, for two and a half years. You can perhaps, then, understand how there was much annoyance on my part as my class discussed the love lives of the characters in the show last night.

Second: The main issue is my eventual move to Los Angeles. She will not be moving with me. She was originally thinking about it, to do that semester in L.A. program with me, but she has since decided not to go. So. As my eventual leaving moves from the backburner and into reality, we are both wondering what we should do. It's basically an issue of hurt now or hurt later. Fun stuff.

So, we're both confused. Do we stay together and then experience some nasty, inevitable heartbreak at O'Hare International? Or do we split now and explore other options in the immediate? Tough, tough, tough. It doesn't work out so well for me, since I'm the one who is leaving. I mean, am I supposed to get attached to some other chick and trade one sad goodbye for another? Besides, how uncool would it be to inflict my dumb, rebounding ass on some poor girl?

Actually, there is this one chick in one of my classes that I thought was cute, as she looks like a blond Angelina Jolie, but I found out that she has a boyfriend and is also a big fan of the 'Left Behind' series of books and considers them "so deep." She is a Consumer Extraordinaire with a capital C. In other words: Ugh.

And Sally the other day realized that her personal trainer is a jewish chiropractor. His only drawback is that he's a jewish chiropractor.

So, in other words, neither of us knows what the fuck is going on. Or what the fuck to do.

The only things we have going through all this is that we're on the same page, we're capable of rational discussion, and that we know we're always going to be part of one another's lives.

In a positive spin on things, I feel like I could whip out the dusty old guitar and write about a billion songs. If you're in a creative rut, I strongly recommend going out and smashing up your love life.