It's Better in Wyoming.

I think I've already mentioned this, but it's still true: One of my favorite things about spring is skirts. In fact they may be my favorite thing about spring. Yeah, skirts. Tulips and daffodils and grape hyacinths and budding trees are nice too. Yeah, spring.

Kaijsa and Wendy and Tawnya and I went out to Skyline Skate tonight. We were the oldest kids there by at least a decade. But, as Kaijsa said, we're not too cool for school. I think some of our friends passed up the opportunity for a sore shin and blisters and maybe a bruise because they were afraid to make dorks of themselves in front of some junior high schoolers. I felt a bit like a dork at times, but I had a good time. I even wore my headband, which makes me feel like some kind of 70s superhero. Sadly, the music selection did not include any Michael Jackson, G'n'R, Poison, or the Culture Club. Apparently it did include some Nelly and Fergie. Now we're trying to figure out how to rent the place out and fill it with some adults. Until then, though, people are going to have to content themselves with Roller Derby tomorrow night at the ice arena (which is of course melted for season; Meagan and Oscar were there for a circus last week). I'll miss the Denver fla

I like Pandora. A lot. It's exposing me to some great new sounds. According to pandora, though, Elton John's "Tiny Dancer" is genetically similar to Bruce Springsteen's sound. Maybe I've just never thought about it before, but that seems like an odd stretch. Hold me closer, tiny dancer. If you're looking for a new band to test drive, I recommend The Editors. Good stuff!

At 8:45 on April 21, 2008, I became an uncle. What a weird feeling, actually, but in a cool way. I can't quite explain it; I haven't really known how I'd expect to feel. But it's a new type of connection. Part of it, for me, is that shift from feeling like the 'young' person--the child, or the nephew, or the grandkid--to becoming the 'old' person in family relationships--the parent, or uncle, or grandparent, or maybe even the older sister even. It just now--right now--occurs to me that for 30 years I've been the youngest Fisher in the family, the younger brother, the youngest of five cousins. Wow: I've never known what it's like to make room for someone younger in the family. Some kids have this feeling when they're 2 and their little brother comes along. I can't wait to meet my new niece.

I just figured out the strumming for "The Cape." And I've nearly got "Falling Slowly" figured out too. Will invited me out on Thursday to practice with his band. I'm pretty sure I won't make the cut. Especially since they're looking for a bass player and I don't. Still, Tawyna and Will were nice to have us out for brats and chips and macaroni salad since Undine Park was windy. The Teaching Writing in Wyoming conference in Douglas was not everything I thought it could be. I stuck both feet in my mouth, within minutes of one another, when I was talking to the featured speaker at dinner. But I did get to talk to cool people. Very enjoyable. Honestly, it feels like something broke loose during this trip, like I've made a path through that block that has always gotten in the way of easy conversation for me. It's not that I'm suddenly Mr. Easy Conversation, I mean. But there was a point, talking to Janet on the way back, when I th

The other day, on the way to Quincy's to watch 'once,' coming out of El Zarape with Kaijsa, I spotted a bumper sticker that said: At least the war on the environment is going well. The sticker strikes me as one of the most clever I've seen in a good long while, because of the things it says without saying them.

I can't remember what I've already written about the movie 'once,' but I liked it as much the second time around. Before seeing it the first time, I think I'd read somewhere that it was a 'modern-day Irish musical,' but it's nothing like the musicals I've seen before. In Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music, music is this thing that interrupts life--the characters typically stop what they're doing in order to sing and dance. But in 'once,' music stands in as a metaphor, I think, for all of everything that binds us to others--it's not an interruption, but an integral part of what's already there. In the movie, music makes auditory all of those silent feelings and conflicts and hopes that swirl around us all the time when we talk to others. Maybe that's what music is all about generally, but the movie captures it well. Take this sinking boat and point it home / We've still got time.

Looks like I'll not be rooming with Kaijsa next year; sounds like I can stay in the Kearney house for another round. I might still look for other places, though, we'll see. I think this is a good thing. The few other places I looked at make me notice how nice a place I have now. It's hard to beat the location, the rent, a washer/dryer, and the condition of this place. Plus, my life has been complicated enough lately. Spring time is hard for me--there's almost too much potential; it's unsettling. Should I search for a new job? A new house? What should I do for the summer? This week has been a good one for helping me have a new appreciation for stability. And it's been a good one for forcing me to confront my anxieties about control and responsibility. It's crazy hard for me to accept things that are out of my control, but a couple of things have happened lately to help me realize that we can't always have control over the amount of control we ha