Got a call from Jenna tonight. Mouse Mouse was playing in the Cities, apparently.

It's been a while since I've felt that frustrated. Seeing the show without the cost and inconvenience of a trip to Wisconsin — and without skipping out on a wedding right before the fun part starts — would have been ideal.

I didn't fully digest this revelation until back at Giovanni's. My frustration culminated in a shocking departure from my usual workday modus operandi: I roused from my somnambular state and let loose a Dean-like roar. Momentarily startling my apathetic coworkers.

I'd forgotten, of course, that half the point of attending the concert in Milwaukee this coming weekend was Jubb. He's a fellow fan and the only person I could depend on to go with me (though, old man that he is, he won't go if it means paying bus fare).

So I'm putting things in perspective: Unless one of The Politician's fairy tale get-togethers actually happens, this is the only chance I'll get to see one of my roommates before September.

Not too big of deal, actually, as I don't seem to see much of anybody during the summer these days. But it should be a lark.

It'll be an extended lark, actually. A four-day weekend.

And in a rare first, this weekend I'm going to see representatives from each of the four separate social circles I've moved in this year. To wit:

1. On Friday, I see Jenna and Manney, Brainerdites.

2. On Saturday, I shower, shave, and dress up to see my relatives.

3. Then I dress down (Maybe in my Eels T-shirt? Is that kosher?) and drive to the Modest Mouse concert. I meet up with Jubb, a loyal Lawrentian. Somewhere…

4. On Monday, fresh from Appleton, I go to Motley to meet up with The Suburbanite and The Pancake Man, two of the most delightful stereotypes my term in Freiburg had to offer.

A detached observer might not notice, but it seems to me that I employ (or have employed) a separate personality for each of these groups.

That's not too surprising, of course. Even if you don't factor in personal growth over time, everyone acts differently around different people, and I'd expect those differences to amplify when someone is moving between groups.

These though, are all special cases.

By my count, I've had around seven "clean breaks" in my life, situations where I was placed with a fresh group of people and given-the-opportunity/forced to redefine my social self.

(Sidenote: Often, I let long-term indifference rule the day, and don't bother to build anything with a new person or group. My coworkers at Giovanni's pizza are a good example: I have little or no personality at work. You could call these situations "clean breaks", but they're usually mundane and short-lived, with no lasting importance. I don't count them.)

I won't belabor each clean break. It would be interesting for me but I've analyzed most of them in my head already. BTW: My first persona, the one that's grown up around my relatives, doesn't count as a break, even if it's different than the voice inside my head.

The rest can be defined by the location where I grew the alternative personality. Here's the quick and dirty list, which means nothing to you:

1. Church.
2. Brainerd.
3. Baxter.
4. Konstanz.
5. Lawrence.
6. D.C.
7. Freiburg.

I'm trying now to move more fluidly between these groups, as anyone who knew me when I tried to keep them all entirely separate (read: during high school) can attest.

I don't dislike any of these personalities — though some of them have been a bit cartoonish — but I do love a good clean break. A sentimental notion, I know.