DON'T PANIC

I'm thinking a lot about Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect these days. Why? I wish I had a cover to my to-do list that said DON'T PANIC in nice, friendly letters. It would be a good reminder. I've just been working so many long days and then going home to try and be useful in packing that I think I may have lost my mind. On the bright side, at least I don't have to worry about a hurricane anymore, since Tropical Storm Chris is deteriorating.

Its everything else to worry about that is the problem. Finding a place to live, packing up our current apartment, getting boxes I still have at my parents' farm seven hours north, finding time to see my family and friends before leaving for the figid land of Cleveland... and now fixing the ever-growing amount of problems with my car.

There are plenty of things to look forward to in Cleveland, and I'm trying to keep my mind set on those so I don't just sit in the middle of the floor, curl into the fetal position, and go to sleep for a long, long time, and hope the magical packing fairies finish for me before I wake up. For example, we get to have a kitten up there. Definitely a plus. Emily is up there. Another fantastic plus -- the one that actually makes the idea of moving to Cleveland more tolerable than any other. I don't have to deal with Miami drivers up there. Anyone who has had to get behind the wheel in Miami knows what a benefit that is.

Moving will be a nice change, and I know that -- its just the process of getting there that I hate.

So of course I find extra ways to stress myself out, such as looking down onto my hand and seeing... nothing! As in no engagement ring. As in it dropped off because we've known that I need to have it resized and haven't had the time because of the move.

Commence the panicking. I frantically began to look around, as Dan walked in to see his betrothed suddenly certifiably insane, crying, and scolding herself for being THE BIGGEST MORON ON EARTH. I sobbed out what happened, and he kept telling me to calm down, because he plans on marrying me even if I DID lose the ring.

We found it half an hour later; it must have gotten snagged on something when I'd gone into the computer bag earlier that evening. That half hour was NOT one I'd ever like to relive. And my ring? I took it to the jewelry store the very next day to be resized. I don't get it back from them until next week, so a few times during the day I'll suddenly have a shock as I see my bare hand, and for a split moment I think I've lost it again, until I remember otherwise.

Thank God Dan can put up with spazzes, because he's sure as hell getting married to one!

The Good Life

We've told as many people in person as we can, so now is the time for the general announcement for those we haven't been able to reach: Dan and I are engaged! Yes, he's finally making an honest woman out of me... or will when we eventually have the wedding in a couple of years. We haven't started planning it yet, since time is consumed by a monster called Moving to Cleveland. Actually, after he proposed, I suggested we just elope in Vegas, but he wants the big wedding and party, complete with friends, family, music, dancing, and midgets. Well, not midgets in particular, but I know Dan. Midgets always make his day a little (no pun intended) brighter. Personally, I hate being the center of attention, but it would be nice to have a big party anyway. Though maybe he'd go for the Vegas idea if I told him we could be married by a midget dressed as Elvis... after all, I firmly believe compromise is the key to any good relationship.

I find all this to be almost too good to be true, but when I look at this sparkling ring on my finger, I know I don't have to pinch myself. This is real, and this is great. Not just the engagement; how great Dan just IS, and how grateful I am to have him with me for the rest of our lives... even when he's being deliberately annoying and threatening to lick my eyeball, or any other way he takes advantage of the fact that I'm easily grossed out by anything having to do with eyes (I mean really, contact lenses anybody? Gross! WHY would anyone voluntarily stick a plastic disc into their eye?? But I digress. Ahem.). The point is, I wish everyone the luck I've had -- to be able to find someone who loves you for who you are and want to be, whose strength you can count on when times are troubled, who believes in you when even you are having your doubts -- and still be a human, complete with faults and cracks and an almost too devilish sense of humor.

To me, that is what the good life is all about.

Say it with me now: Awwww...

Reason # 5,376 Dan is awesome
He just dropped off two dozen yellow roses at my job -- for no reason whatsoever.

I feel so loved :-)

After the rain

I woke up at 5 this morning to the sounds of earth-shaking thunder. Car alarms were going off, and lightning was flashing through the heavy curtains in my bedroom, lighting up the entire room. It is that time in Miami, when Mother Nature gets temperamental and disagreeable, like a small child who needs a nap. The day did little to improve, except for a short, considerate respite coinciding with my morning commute. From then up until ten minutes ago, it seemed as if a hurricane was brewing outside my office window. The world outside is wet, even flooded in places, but the sun is starting to come out, slowly drying things off in nature's form of damage control. Today, this is my favorite part of the storm: the aftermath. Other days it is the crashing thunder and blinding lightning. But today, seeing the world so fresh and new (the Miami version of new snow, I suppose), it is easy to have hope that your troubles will evaporate like the puddles in the street below, to think that tomorrow is a day without mistakes or pettiness in it yet, and that life is a precious gift, meant to be held and loved, cuddled and cherished.

It has started

What has started, you ask? The insanity. The questions. The doubts. The panic. The moving.

My car is filled to the brim with collapsed boxes garnered from my sister on Sunday, who just finished moving to Florida herself. It has been raining (storming, really) almost nonstop since then, so I've been unable to get them OUT of my car, which is smelling more and more like cardboard and dust every time I climb into it. Dan and I are continually discussing the merits of renting versus buying. Feelings of sorrow are already starting to wash over me as I realize things that I take for granted in Miami (knowing how to get places, knowing what places there are to get to, etc.) will be thrown out the window in two months.

I have lived in Miami my entire life, as has Dan for the most part. We don't know how to live in the big, bad Winter. I don't know how to drive in snow or sleet or anything other than rain or sunshine. Ice on roads? What? Winter clothing? HOW? Explain to me the mysteries of layering! I can do anything in photoshop with layers, but show me long underwear, shirts, and coats and you'll see me with a blank face. I sometimes grab a blanket when I get chilled watching TV with Dan when our AC is set at 70. I can't help but think "Can I REALLY survive up north? What am I thinking!" I've already had one Cleveland-related breakdown, resulting in crying on Dan's shoulder, brokenly asking "What... *sniff* if we *bigger sniff* HATE IT?? *snuffleBAWL*"

There are times when I think of the Impending Move and realize what a great opportunity it is. A new environment, a new city, more to do and learn, and, most importantly, NOT in Miami: the city I've learned to hate.

Then there are the times I think of it and wonder what insane whim prompted me to tell my company I'd move? Ack! A new environment! A new city! So much I have to do, and I don't even know how! And, worst of all, its not in Miami! How could they EVER think I'd move to Cleveland?? Its taken this move to make me realize, after years of hating Miami, that it does have a few good points.

In my honest moments, not enough good points to make me want to stay here, but more than I've given it credit for since staying here for college. There's just so many things we'd said we were going to do in Florida and haven't... waking up early one morning to go to Miami Beach to watch the sunrise over the ocean and then driving across to the west coast to watch the sunset in the Gulf. Visiting Saint Augustine, or the Dali Museum, or countless other places. We have precious few weekends left here in Florida, and many will be taken up by packing, family, and friends.

I can be the world's #1 worrier... and now I can't tell if I'm kicking into overdrive, or if my concerns are as valid as I think they are. I know Emily and her Hubby the Great will be a tremendous help -- in fact, they already have been! And I'm certainly looking forward to being in the same city as Emily; we haven't been since we met in that summer we interned together in Chicago. But I'm also certainly going to miss my friends here, the easy access to my family in other parts of Florida, and more. My sister and her family just moved to Florida earlier this month after being in North Dakota for six years, and now we're moving. If something were to happen to my parents, I'm a terrible entire plane ride away, instead of a short road trip.

I just feel so conflicted. I know this can be great, and I'm doing my damndest to make sure it will be, and it is exciting and new... but part of me is terrified at the thought of exchanging the comfort of where I've grown up for excitement and newness, and especially change. I have my good days and bad days thinking about all this. And I know I'm going to unashamedly waffle back and forth until we're up there, and perhaps even for a time after that. Today I'm sort of in between.

The Judgment of Six-Year-Olds

I saw my sister's family this weekend. It had been a year since last seeing the little ones, and they were enormous! Christopher is 6, Stephanie is 3, and Anthony is 1. Though if you ask Stephanie how old she is, she says 2, because my sister has her trained to get into Disney for free. But that is a whole other story. Ahem.

As you all know, I wear glasses because I'm practically blind in one eye. Christopher has a fascination with them because, in his words, "WOW! When I wear your glasses, my hand looks as big as yours does without them!" Thanks, Chris. Rub in your good eyesight to your poor Tia. This time, however, he reached a new high (or low?)...

Christopher grabbed my glasses and put them on. He actually looked really good in them; I'll have to post a picture once I get it off my phone. Immediately, he started shouting "I'M A NERD!" and making farting noises with his armpit. I'm not sure why this is funny, but to six-year-old boys, this is like Robin Williams, Dave Chappelle, Chris Rock, and Eddie Izzard all bundled up into one hilarious joke. He proceeded to do this over and over for about 5 minutes, in between insane gales of laughter.

At that point, my sister walked in, wondering what it was all about. Christopher got a bright idea: "Hi Mommy! Try these on!" and handed her my glasses. "Wow, you look like a grandma!" he giggled. Kelly gave them back to me, and I put them on because you get to miss depth perception after awhile.

Here is where I made my fatal mistake. "So if your Mommy looks like a grandma in these glasses, what do I look like?" I asked Chris.

How did that litte imp respond? "Like a nobody... just like yourself, Tia."

...Ouch! I tickled that little bastard until dinner time to make up for it.

It's official

I know, I am a horrible person and don't update as much as I should. But I have VERY good excuses. Between internet problems at home, continual traveling, and sickness, I haven't had very much time at ALL.

Oh yeah, and we're moving to Cleveland. AAHHHHH!!!