I have unintentionally let this blog go for nearly four months without so much as a teeny-tiny update. I’ve been busy, which is definitely a good thing. Got the freelance business up and running and the work has been pretty steady so far. Website needs work, I’ve been told. But hey, it’s something.

An abbreviated review of the last four months:
May was a super-busy month for my editing and writing. I worked 50-60 hours a week. I was glad when it was over, and even more glad when I got paid for all that hard work!

In June, my parents came to visit from New Mexico, by way of Utah. (They flew here from Salt Lake.) We hung out, cooked some food, took the train to Portland. It felt like a pretty short visit, but that’s kind of the way I like ‘em. No offense, Ma & Pa, but keeping it short keeps it sweet.

July was a slower month for Culler Copy, but I drove myself down to Oregon and played in a couple of bigger poker tournaments (I usually play poker once every week or two at local cardrooms). The first one I played, I won! Part of my prize was a cruise to the Mexican Riviera in December, which means we’ll be going on a trip! Yay.

August was a busy but wonderful month that included a visit from our good friends Beth and Matt (whom we miss dearly), a trip up to Anacortes to go crabbing for the first time (thanks so much, Pat and Carol!), a trip to California for Man Candy’s older brother’s wedding and a weeklong visit from Man Candy’s younger brother and sister-in-law.

Among all the hustle and bustle of the last few months, I wrote several freelance stories for MSN Real Estate:

• When to call your landlord
• 17 (mostly) surprising ways you’re violating your lease
• When your landlord lives upstairs
• 19 nightmare roommates

And that should just about catch us up to the present moment. TTFN!

Today, I learned that The Seattle Times won a Pulitzer Prize for its breaking news reporting on the shooting deaths of four Lakewood Police officers and the manhunt for the suspect, back in November of last year.

First of all, it’s sad that so many tragedies have to happen in order for quality journalism to a) take place and b) be recognized (Hurricane Katrina coverage, for example). That said, the Times staff did an amazing job on this story. They followed every lead and every angle and reported the hell out of the story. I imagine that everyone in the newsroom and even outside of the newsroom contributed in some way. And that kind of collaboration and teamwork and kick-ass reporting is what I miss about working there.

Which brings me to the ellipses portion of my blog title. My first reaction to the Pulitzer news was pure delight. The Times deserves this. The staff hasn’t often been recognized for its breaking-news coverage, but this proves what the Times can do. But I can’t help but feel a little sad. I want to be there with my former colleagues. Not just today, as they bask in the well-deserved glory. Every day. I miss the excitement, the energy, the feeling that the work matters. I don’t need to be a part of this particular honor to know that the time I spent at the Times was meaningful and that the work I did helped make a difference. I am proud to have been a part of a family-owned, prize-winning newspaper. I believe I would still be there today if I had been given a choice.

On a related note, I wrote a silly little spring home maintenance article for MSN Real Estate, and so far nearly a quarter-million people have at least clicked on it. Not bad.

I’m in a yearlong contract at work and it’s ’bout to be over — my last day is April 19. I decided to venture out into the world of self-employment and start my own little editing business. Writing, too. I’m nervous about it, but also very excited. I think I’ll enjoy the flexibility of working for myself, and I’m really hoping there will be enough work that I can support myself.

I got my business licenses in the mail this past week (one for the state and one for the city). Oh and I’m doing business as Culler Copy. Culler is me and copy (writing and editing of it) is what I do.

So if any of you need some work done, or know anyone who does, send ‘em my way. Please. I hope to have a website up soon.

In 2005, when little Wheezy dog was adopted, no one knew when she was born. It was May when she got her new home and she was about 2 months old. I decided that this cute little furball and I could share a birthday. It’s been a nonstop party ever since. (OK, that’s an exaggeration.) But she’s 5 today and I’m just a little older than that. And we both wanted to share a trick with our blog audience.

Like she says, she is 5.

Not such a hard trick, really.

Back in November 2005, I got my first Washington driver’s license. It only took me a day or two to notice that the eye color on my license said BRN instead of BLU. As soon as I noticed, I made a plan to go into the licensing office and get that changed. Immediately! I’m blue-eyed and PROUD!

Flash-forward to this week. I pulled out my license for something and noticed that it was set to expire on my birthday. And that my address is still the first address I ever lived at in Washington. (I have moved at least 8 times since then) And, yes, my eye color was still BRN. Good intentions can only get you so far.

So, today, I took an afternoon break and hopped on light rail to go to the licensing department. I can’t renew online because my address is wrong. And I can’t prove what color my eyes REALLY are unless I go in person. I could renew my license, update my address and get my eye color right, all in one visit. I worked all morning, took a quick shower and headed out.

The wait wasn’t bad. My number was called within 20 minutes or so. But wait, they don’t take VISA for payment? Whew, I have another credit card buried in the back of my wallet, just in case. Then the guy says, “Just wait a minute or two and we’ll take your picture.” PICTURE? If you recall, I “took a quick shower and headed out.” That didn’t involve preparing myself to be photographed. That didn’t even involve LOOKING IN A MIRROR. Ack. Oh well, license photos are supposed to be terrible. And it was. Oh it was.

So I’m done. Temporary license in hand. Hike back up the hill to catch light rail home. Glance down at the license to check out that awesome photo again. Wait, what does that say? Eye color: BRN. Well, phoooey. Luckily, I noticed it within a block or two, was able to go back and have the guy redo it. He said it was his only void today, unless you count the one between his ears. HA! He had to take another picture, this one even worse than the first. As I head out the door, he says, “Have a nice day, blue-eyed Leah.”

Tee hee.

Last year, for the weekend preceding my 30th birthday, we headed to Portland on the train. (We being Man Candy, our dear friend Mary and myself.) A few other friends from Seattle were planning to come down in a couple of days to hang out and celebrate. That first night, after we watched a movie in the hotel room, Tim and Mary handed me a magazine featuring Portland breakfast spots and told me to figure out where we should go for breakfast the next day.

I flipped through, completely overlooking the “clue” they had sneakily hidden among the magazine’s pages.
This clue was the first of many I would find the next day during a birthday scavenger hunt all over Portland.

That first clue took us to breakfast the next morning, where the waitress brought me my second clue.

The coordinates on that second clue took us to a toy store, where my prize was “Newlywed Ken and Barbie.” I was confused by this, because I am not, and never really have been, a fan of Barbie. I wandered around the store for a bit, completely ignoring someone trying to get my attention from behind one of the toy racks.

It turns out, my good pal Reann, whom I have been friends with since before junior high, and her new husband Greg (whom I adore) had flown up from New Mexico as part of my birthday surprise. Wowee was I excited.

My next clue took us to the Portland Saturday Market.

Other clues took us for donuts (where my Seattle friends met up with us), to a museum and then to dinner at this awesome Peruvian place that Man Candy and I had discovered in one of our other Portland excursions.

As we’re waiting to be seated for dinner, one of my friends asked Man Candy if there were still 11 people on the reservation. I looked around, counted 9 of us.

Just then, I turned around and saw my friends Cami and Mike from Logan, Utah. Cami and I worked on the college paper together.

They happened to be celebrating their 10th wedding anniversary and decided to come to the Pacific Northwest so they could spend an evening of their vacation with me. I was so giddy.

So the 11 of us had an amazing dinner.

After dinner was done, I was surprised with the most awesome birthday cake ever, a gift from Amber. Thanks, Amber, for the best cake a girl could ever hope for. It’s a maple bacon donut cake from Voodoo Donuts in Portland. Yum.

Like I said in my last post, no birthday celebration could ever top last year. Man Candy knew that the best gift to give me would be spending time with the people I love. Thank you all for being there.

And I would highly recommend the birthday scavenger hunt to anyone who wants a fun way to celebrate. I also highly recommend taking the train to Portland. Best way to travel EVER.

The first countdown I refer to is the 20 days remaining until I turn 31. This seems significant to me because it will feel more like I’m “in my 30s.” Turning 30 was more of a “completion of my 20s” milestone and was the best birthday ever, so I didn’t really have to think too much about the whole new decade of age thing. And I just realized I ought to share the awesomeness of that birthday here. It’s nearly a year late, but that’s OK. That will be my next post. Promise.

Anyway, this year’s birthday festivities, if there are any, will never be able to compete with last year. But there’s something about that number — 31 — that makes me think I ought to be all growed up and have a life plan and a solid career.

Which brings me to the second countdown. I’m just a couple of months (in fact, exactly 2 months) from being unemployed again. I’m in a yearlong contract and, once it’s done, I can’t come back to work for The Big Ol’ Company as a contractor until I take a 100-day break. It’s an odd setup, but I’m actually looking forward to being done. I’m really hoping to get some freelance work lined up, get an actual little business of my own started up and perhaps do some soul-searching to figure out what it is I really want to do with my life. And I want to walk the Earth. Perhaps not literally walk it, since it’s big and I’ve got the ol’ lady knees. But I do want to spend some time just roaming or visiting people I don’t get to see often or taking Man Candy on a fun birthday trip or kickin’ it with my nephew.

I have no life plan. No career plan. No plans. I’m planless. Sometimes that bothers me. I often wish someone would have told me what I had to do with my life. But, the thing is, I can do almost anything I want. I can start a new career. And I’m fairly certain I will, at some point. I just have to pick one. And that is where that new dartboard I got for Christmas will come in handy. I can just write each career I’m interested in on a separate little piece of paper and put all the little pieces of paper on the dartboard and throw darts until I actually hit the dartboard somewhere (no, my new career will not be a professional dart player) and wherever the dart lands will be my new life!

Stay tuned …

I’m pretty sure Wheezy was trying to tell me that she would prefer that I don’t use my iPhone headphones to talk on the phone and that I should instead play with her. If only she could have found a less destructive way to communicate this message.

I’m still sick, which means no one wants to come near me. I’m not allowed to help make dinner or put away dishes or fold clean laundry or hug people. I suppose I should enjoy it while it lasts, but I’m kind of sick of feeling useless. I found a recipe to use up our leftover sweet potatoes but then I can’t even help make it. So, basically, I said, “Hey, I found this recipe. Make it for me.”

I did take out the trash. That’s something. It’s already garbage, so I can’t make it much worse if I cough on it. Although, I suppose the garbage man may catch something, depending on how long germs cling to the Hefty bag.

It’s Saturday night and our good friends Beth and Matt are visiting from D.C. But, instead of hanging out in Ballard with them tonight, I’m sitting at home, wrapped in a blanket with my Zicam and my Mucinex and my tissues and my hot tea. I got hit hard with some kinda sickness on Thursday night and it seems to have gotten worse since then. I’m hoping 12 hours of Nyquil-induced sleep will make me feel better enough to actually hang out tomorrow. The weather has been amazing, and it’s awful being cooped up inside with the sniffles when I would much rather be enjoying the unusually beautiful February days we’ve been having.