In the spirit of my original Q&A post, I am once again answering all the questions you never asked. I am finding that this type of post is the result of having too many blog ideas, and no real substance for any of them. Wow. Now, if you are still totally stoked to read this entry, be my guest.

Can I buy you a drink?
Abso-freakin-lutely. However, I’m going to have to take a rain check. I don’t believe I’ve mentioned this, but I declared July to be a dry month. I do this occasionally – take a little sabbatical from the bottle – for several reasons: health, sleep, discipline, and simply to make sure that it never owns me. The alco-fast will break over my birthday weekend.

Oh, so your birthday is coming up?
Yes. I’m very, very close to turning 26. I thought that 25 was going to be the hot year – and it totally was – but I have even higher hopes for the next chapter. I hope that life continues to get more and more awesome, and that I never have “the best year ever” until I’m about 75. Then, after life has reached its triumphant pinnacle of mind-boggling awesomeness, I will move to Italy to live out the remainder of my days on the beach.

Are you a free spirit?
Oh, hell no. Absolutely not. A lot of people assume that I am, but they are wrong. Wrong like citrus toothpaste. I am a regimented control freak with a strong need for things to be “just so.” However, I am a big believer in growth, and breaking out of one’s comfort zone, because I am more afraid of regret than I am afraid of failure. So I force myself to act like a free spirit and try new things, even when deep down, I am quaking in my cowgirl boots.

What are your most recent revelations?
That I hate peas, and I hate drinking coffee from a metal travel mug. Both taste gross. I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to realize these things, but there they are. They might be temporary feelings. When I was 18, I decided that I hated hamburgers. But after about 5 years, my feelings changed.

Do you remember the movie “Curly Sue”?
To know the answer, you will have to check in tomorrow.

I know. You’ll be waiting with bated breath.

Behold: the fruits of my internet labor, for your benefit! These are just a few of the many things I have run across as of late. Now, read and learn.

Should I take a lemon wedge in my water?
No. Make that a hell, no.

What are some things that I might get someday?
This, and this, and the Bluebird Cafe version of this. Still this. This might be appropriate, too.

Who’s on Jay Leno tonight?
Just my boyfriend.

Where did the phrase “balls to the wall” come from?
“The expression comes from the world of military aviation. In many planes, control sticks are topped with a ball-shaped grip. One such control is the throttle—to get maximum power you push it all the way forward, to the front of the cockpit, or firewall (so-called because it prevents an engine fire from reaching the rest of the plane). Another control is the joystick—pushing it forward sends a plane into a dive. So, literally pushing the balls to the (fire)wall would put a plane into a maximum-speed dive, and figuratively going balls to the wall is doing something all-out, with maximum effort. The phrase is essentially the aeronautical equivalent of the automotive “pedal to the metal.” (from this site – thanks, C!)

Where can I find cheap fancy groceries in Nashville?
AAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!

You probably have some questions for me. And I am here to answer them. Preemptively. That’s right: I am going to answer questions that you have yet to vocalize.

We’ll start with some obvious ones.

Annie, can we see your new earrings?
Of course!

I got these from Mud & Mint’s Etsy shop, where there are all sorts of lovely things available.

What else are you coveting from Etsy these days?
If by “covet” you mean, “think about as I fall asleep at night, and fantasize about all of the different possible uses for, and stand flabbergasted that something so amazingly perfect exists,” then it would have to be this:

I’m swooning. Literally. This is the world’s most amazingly ideal, best-case-scenario bag. I’m saving my pennies, and thinking about harvesting pop cans from the side of the freeway for nickels. And busking for quarters.

What else do you want, besides that bag?
A massage. That is always the answer.

How long are you going to live in Nashville?
Longer than you think.

Or.

Shorter than you think.

Depending on how long you think.

(I really have no earthly idea. What should I do with my life? If you have any ideas, my comment board is an open forum.)

When can we hear some of the songs that you are allegedly writing? You ARE writing, right? Not that we would know. Since there’s nothing to prove that you are actually writing any new material.
I’m glad you asked! I have some studio time scheduled for next week, and will hopefully get 2 new demos out of the deal.

I’ve actually been writing quite a bit lately. Are the songs “good”? Well, “good” is a relative term. I think that they stand on their own. I think that they’re better than my early material. I think that I like them, and that’s a fairly new feeling for me.

Don’t worry: you will be alerted just as soon as these songs are available to be listened to. I’ll throw them on MySpace, and we’ll have a song-unveiling party right here on the blog. Bring beer.

Do you miss Seattle?
Desperately. Every day.

I know that I tend to be a revisionist, and idealize certain times in my life which, in actuality, were far from perfect.

But I kind of think that my life in Seattle was close to perfect.

Maybe someday I’ll look back on this time in Nashville and think the same thing. Like, “Remember when I used to walk around the grocery store for free-sample dinners? Remember when I sat in silence at a desk for 8-hours each day? Remember the feeling of being completely anonymous, but not exactly in a good way? Remember the roaches? Yeah. That was awesome.”

So. Maybe not “awesome.” But “living.” And really – aren’t those two words kind of the same thing?

Even in the doldrums of everyday life, me thinks yes.

Can we ask you more questions?
Sure! Post any that you have for me, and I’ll try my best to answer them.

The other day, I was walking to the bus, listening to my iPod. All of a sudden, I felt a shock. IN MY EAR. And then, another shock, IN MY OTHER EAR. All at once, I was experiencing pain, and when I ripped the earbuds out of my ears, THEY WERE SPARKING. As I am not willing to put flame initiators anywhere on my body, especially in my ear canal, I headed for the Apple store.

I walked in the door, and a very hip, very trendy, very hot-jeaned girl with an electronic clipboard enthusiastically said, “How can I help you?”

“My earbuds are sparking. I know, I know – bizarre. Can I get new ones?”

The girl looked at me and asked, “Like, Apple ones?”

Stop it, sister. You did not just ask that.

“Yes. Yes, Apple earbuds.” From the Apple store that we are standing in.

“Sure – they’re over there.” She pointed me in the direction of the (yes, Apple) earbuds.

I walked over and took a look: $29. But shouldn’t my earbuds be covered under AppleCare? Especially if they are shooting explosive volts into my very sensitive ears?

No. No, they are not.

Now, let’s review. I have not had income since September 10. I have not been shopping since I left Seattle; I have spent money on gas and experiences, but have basically given up the acquisition of “new things.” For a girl who loves expensive clothes and good wine and all sorts of pretty things, this has been a great challenge. But I am learning to be content, and realizing that I have plenty of clothes to choose from already, and trying to be creative and resourceful. I make coffee at home. I have created a window valance out of a shawl. I am cutting back on my washcloth usage so I don’t have to do laundry as often.

But when things that I already have are being taken away from me? That is not at all a part of the plan.

I no longer have earbuds.

I dropped my camera on Friday night, and now it’s a lost cause. The camera repairman said that I might as well just buy a new camera, as it would cost just as much to repair it as it would to start afresh. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t take pictures. I am suddenly camera-less.

I returned from Seattle to Nashville, and found my suitcase zipper broken (aaaand it sliced open my hand).

I’m almost out of my favorite perfume.

And of course, the Honda remains one breakdown away from ultimate extinction. The muffler is hanging pretty low these days.

Which is why I am desperately curious to know: is this rumor of an extra $600 on my tax return true? Can anyone tell me? Am I getting an extra $600 back? Are we ALL? I don’t speak financial words. Just tell me, yes or no: is God choosing to bail me out via George W. Bush?

I believe in miracles.

I am proud to say that I have made it through 2007, and it wasn’t quite as dark as I originally anticipated. One year ago tonight, I was in a deep depression, and terrified of what the coming year would hold. But now, I am happy – at least, most of the time, which is much better than “hardly ever.” So much that was unknown a year ago has become clear – 2007 exists now not as an uncertainty, but as an experience, a memory, a closed door.

And so, with the expectancy that some of the questions I have about 2008 will soon be answered, I ask them.

Are risks worth the risk? How am I supposed to start over? Where will I live? Where will I work? Who will be my friends? Where will I go to church? Will I ever find a bed, or a couch, or a desk, or a dresser? Who will cut my hair? How am I going to get all of my boxes to Nashville? Where will I do my banking? Will I get my wish and have my new phone number be PAR-SONS? What ever happened to my coffee grinder and toaster oven? Will I ever have medical insurance again? Why is everyone getting engaged? Will Nashville ever get a Trader Joe’s? A Nordstrom? Where will I do my shopping? Will I ever live in Seattle again? Do dreams come true? Who reads this blog? Who will I marry? Will I get married? Do I really want to get married? How will I get my rugs from Seattle to Nashville? Will any of my friends come visit me? Which gym will I go to? Will I ever see Nicole Kidman walking around town? Will I ever have a dog as cute as Gabe? Will I ever go to Italy? Will I ever be comfortable in my own skin? What is going to happen in 2008? Is there anything better than cold pizza for breakfast?

One year from now, I hope that I have a lot of these questions answered. But I believe that even today, to the last question, I can emphatically answer, “No.”

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T-minus 4 days until The Big Move.