There's a thunderstorm here and I can't sleep. My mind is buzzing with things to do before I move to Lincoln. It's all just too much! I have to find an insurance provider, get a new cell phone plan, set up all my apartment utilities, pack, graduate, and get sleeping pills for my cat to knock her out on the trip.

And underneath all the stress, I don't want to leave. I know, I know . . . I hate Michigan, right? Or at least part of the time, I do. The cold gray wet dead part. And I'm tired of Andrews . . . the politics, the backbiting, the judgmentalism. Granted, those aspects are going to be anywhere I move--but I'm ready to leave this environment, at least for a while.

But the summer has seemed all too short for it to be just a few weeks from over. And I've loved living in my new house. I've loved having all the time in the world with my friends, to just kick around and do whatever we feel like. I've loved staying up late and watching thunderstorms, reading on the porch in the afternoon, going on evening bike rides (notice how none of the things I love involve the morning? Sleeping in has also been a hallmark of this summer).

And I love people here. I always get so tied, heart and soul, to people, and the thought of not being a daily part of my dear friends' lives just kills me. It's not the big stuff--I'll hear about the new jobs, the engagements, the births and deaths. But just the fact that we can't say, "Hey, let's go to Dairy Queen!" or "Wanna come over and watch a movie?" makes me sad. I won't hear the latest pastoral jokes from all my seminary friends. I'll miss out on the lunch-table talk at the English department. I won't see that crazy short-lived redhead phase. I'll be missing out on so much.

There's lots of ways I could end this post: "Well, they'll be missing out on me and my new life, too! And it's gonna be awesome!" or "I should count myself lucky to be blessed with so many good friends!" or "Who knows when God will bring me back to Michigan, and besides, we'll all see each other in heaven!" But really, I'm sad. That's the truth. And I just want, like a toddler, to have my own way, to move to Lincoln AND take all my friends and this great house and wonderful life. But I can't. So I'm just going to end this post with a hearty "Boo."

I have doglust. And now I've accepted a lease at an apartment where I can't have a dog. So I'm deferring my dream (sorry, Langston) for yet another year.

When I was little, I didn't even like dogs (kind of like how I didn't use to like kids). I thought they were big and dumb and messy and needy. Cats were so much better--small, clean, independent. And cats were good reading pets. They curl up on your lap and go to sleep while you read a book and drink tea. And that was all I needed from a pet. Or so I thought . . .

But now I'm more active, and I want a pet to play with and walk with, an animal with a little more personality than a cat. Plus, my values and desires have shifted slightly. I'll be living alone in Lincoln, and I can see the attraction of a warm something at home, tail wagging with excitement, full of unconditional love. A pet that's more of a friend than a lapwarmer.

My friend Natalie is afraid of dogs. We always see them at the beach. Silver Beach is the beach to show off your expensive bod; Grand Mere is the beach to show off your expensive dog. The other day we were only at the beach for 45 minutes, and we saw a brindle boxer, a Great Dane, a whippet, a Weimereiner, a big schnauzer, and a gorgeous boxer-mutt (my favorite). I love scoping those dogs out, watching them as they run in the waves and catch frisbees. They're so graceful, and the boxers are just damn sexy.

But Natalie doesn't even like to look at them. I told her to find a friend with a safe, nice dog, and make friends with it. My theory is that her appreciation for this doggy-individual will transfer to dogs in general. At least, that's how it happened for me, with Summer, Greg and Melissa's large Lab of Love (LoL). I hated "Bupsy" at first. I didn't like how she jumped and slobbered on me every time I came over; plus, she ruined some of my stuff. But now I'm the only one whose face she'll lick.

Well, at least I can have my cat Lady at my new place. And she's kind of like a dog. She's not very playful or smart, but she's super needy. Whenever I'm studying, she climbs up on the book and settles herself down on the pages--not a very good reading pet, as it turns out.

You have called me Israel, godwrestler,
and so I am.
After nights of crying,
cursing, cajoling, shaking
my fist your way, I recede
into numbness for weeks
on end, barely speaking your name
but to say, "Hey, You,
pass the salt."

I always come back for more.
More of a beating, hip-wounding,
more pounding of fists
and hearts, locked
in a sweaty, fierce embrace,
blood on the spiky grass.

I am compelled. It is no
inherent virtue of my own. At times
I am reluctant, embittered, sneering
like a teenager, rolling my eyes,
but in the end, I return.
Your face is like the face of God to me.

Things I would rather do than write my papers:

Organize my filing cabinet
Weed an ant-filled garden naked in the sun
Eat three earthworms
Watch someone else play golf on XBox for hours
Detail my car
Go to a Lord of the Dance performance
Take my ceiling fan apart and put it back together

Things I would rather write my papers than do:

Have to move ever again
Do a Sudoku puzzle
Be eaten alive
Not graduate in August (but that one's really close)

Reasons why I am going to write my papers:

I already paid my deposit on an apartment in Lincoln.
I can't read the new Harry Potter book until I'm done writing.
Not having them done is ruining my digestion.
Seth Pierce won't stop bugging me until I do.
The mean teachers are making me do it.

I love my house. I love my roommates. I love our parties. And Justin "Gus" Jeffery is a genius, a wizard if you will. I am so blessed to live here, adjacent to the Jellyfish Fields. Even if my cat is in perpetual danger of being shot, stamped, or thrown out a window.

For more pictures by the incredible Justin, visit http://www.jefferyjustin.blogspot.com/. Oh man. He's awesome.