Dan is back in Cleveland after being gone nearly a month!
My world is right again :-)
Minus the fact that President Bush is still in office and the Pope is a moron, but I'm not thinking about that right now. Argh.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
I never knew I had such power!
I just want to say that I'm terribly amused at the idea of someone I know downright detesting me. Not that I'm unhuman and haven't done my share of pretty shitty things, but I'm overall a good human, so the shitty things I do usually affect myself, not others. Even acquaintances describe me as "such a nice girl," or, barring that, "such a nice girl with such thick hair!"
I always knew this person acted very strangely and artificial towards me, but then, she acts that way towards everyone. I always felt that it was more pronounced towards me, but would dismiss that idea as crazy because honestly? I never spend time with her and in the grand scheme of things, barely know her. She always comes off as trying to act tougher and more out-there than she is, or could ever possibly be, so it seemed impossible to get to know her, and I gave up trying after awhile.
But now I know I was right, and she DID treat me differently. Because now I've been told that, to her, I am one of the most frustrating people on earth, and she just lets out a great "HARRUMPH!" whenever my name is mentioned. And why? Because the person she's now been dating for years had a week-long schoolboy crush on me before they started dating. I guess he never told her how I turned him down. Again and again. And again. Because frankly, he's a little on the gross side.
Perhaps I'm being hypocritical; I get that same reaction when I see Dan's ex, but there ARE a few differences. Namely, she actually dated him, and she also happens to be a lying bitch. And I don't let her existence make me feel insecure about my relationship; I felt the same way about her before Dan and I even thought of dating.
I always thought I was too nice and bland in some ways to have anyone hate me, but this girl does! And in a weird way, maybe that is a good thing. Can you truly live a full life, packed to the gills with sheer living, without having a single person resent you? Because if you can do that, you probably never said a bad word about anyone in your life. And probably nothing else worth listening to, either.
I always knew this person acted very strangely and artificial towards me, but then, she acts that way towards everyone. I always felt that it was more pronounced towards me, but would dismiss that idea as crazy because honestly? I never spend time with her and in the grand scheme of things, barely know her. She always comes off as trying to act tougher and more out-there than she is, or could ever possibly be, so it seemed impossible to get to know her, and I gave up trying after awhile.
But now I know I was right, and she DID treat me differently. Because now I've been told that, to her, I am one of the most frustrating people on earth, and she just lets out a great "HARRUMPH!" whenever my name is mentioned. And why? Because the person she's now been dating for years had a week-long schoolboy crush on me before they started dating. I guess he never told her how I turned him down. Again and again. And again. Because frankly, he's a little on the gross side.
Perhaps I'm being hypocritical; I get that same reaction when I see Dan's ex, but there ARE a few differences. Namely, she actually dated him, and she also happens to be a lying bitch. And I don't let her existence make me feel insecure about my relationship; I felt the same way about her before Dan and I even thought of dating.
I always thought I was too nice and bland in some ways to have anyone hate me, but this girl does! And in a weird way, maybe that is a good thing. Can you truly live a full life, packed to the gills with sheer living, without having a single person resent you? Because if you can do that, you probably never said a bad word about anyone in your life. And probably nothing else worth listening to, either.
Monday, September 04, 2006
The big arms thing
"All right, lads, Leonardo da Vinci's painting the picture, so everyone get your positions, here we go."
"Jesus, why are you doing the big arms thing?"
"Well, I don't know... I just thought I'd do a big arms thing, I don't know."
"Well, I'm going to do a big arms thing as well."
"Yeah, me too! I'll call that the big arms..."
"Look, we can't all do big arms! We'll look like a squadron of Spitfires, for fuck's sake! I'll do big arms and you just look at me and go, 'Ooh, he's doing big arms.'"
Somehow, this is even funnier when there is an actual squadron of Spitfires outside your office window flying around in formation.
"Jesus, why are you doing the big arms thing?"
"Well, I don't know... I just thought I'd do a big arms thing, I don't know."
"Well, I'm going to do a big arms thing as well."
"Yeah, me too! I'll call that the big arms..."
"Look, we can't all do big arms! We'll look like a squadron of Spitfires, for fuck's sake! I'll do big arms and you just look at me and go, 'Ooh, he's doing big arms.'"
Somehow, this is even funnier when there is an actual squadron of Spitfires outside your office window flying around in formation.
Monday, August 28, 2006
Florida sucks.
I hate you, Florida.
Apparently God does, too. Because you, counfounded Florida, have another hurricane coming. Or maybe God just hates me. Yes, I know I'm in Cleveland. I'm in Cleveland and I'm LONELY because Dan? He's in Miami. And now it looks like his return will be delayed because of stupid Ernesto. Because Ernesto isn't going to be a considerate hurricane and just crossed the peninsula the short way -- or better yet not hit at all -- Ernesto is going to be a catheter for America's wang. So every conceivable highway out of Florida will be covered with debris. Thanks, Ernesto. FOR NOTHING.
I've been counting down the days to Dan coming back to Cleveland. I like Cleveland so far, but its an awful lonely place when your fiance is 1500 miles away and the only people you know here always have schedules that don't match up with your own. It was almost time for Dan to come home, and Florida had to give me this one, final punch.
Oh, and one final laugh? We packed up the hurricane supplies a couple of weeks ago... and took them to Cleveland.
Florida's an asshole. So is Ernesto.
Apparently God does, too. Because you, counfounded Florida, have another hurricane coming. Or maybe God just hates me. Yes, I know I'm in Cleveland. I'm in Cleveland and I'm LONELY because Dan? He's in Miami. And now it looks like his return will be delayed because of stupid Ernesto. Because Ernesto isn't going to be a considerate hurricane and just crossed the peninsula the short way -- or better yet not hit at all -- Ernesto is going to be a catheter for America's wang. So every conceivable highway out of Florida will be covered with debris. Thanks, Ernesto. FOR NOTHING.
I've been counting down the days to Dan coming back to Cleveland. I like Cleveland so far, but its an awful lonely place when your fiance is 1500 miles away and the only people you know here always have schedules that don't match up with your own. It was almost time for Dan to come home, and Florida had to give me this one, final punch.
Oh, and one final laugh? We packed up the hurricane supplies a couple of weeks ago... and took them to Cleveland.
Florida's an asshole. So is Ernesto.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Almost home?
Dan and I are safely in Cleveland, despite all of West Virginia's efforts to kill us. But more on that later.
We got a late start when leaving Miami and ended up spending our first night on the road in Ormand Beach. Because do you know what its like to drive a 17-foot U-Haul that has a trailer with a car on it attached to it? Its like driving 30 feet of junk behind you, except that 30 feet of junk happens to be all of you material possessions. No pressure, or anything.
We discovered something important this first day: the U-Haul radio is possessed. No, really, it is. It won't turn off, first of all. You can turn the volume all the way down, but it will randomly decide to turn it back up again. And sometimes, when you go to turn it down again, it just gets louder and louder. And then your eardrums explode and blood leaks from all your facial cavities. Well no, not quite, but it sure feels like it sometimes.
We stayed with John and Lisa our second night on the road, and it was really, really nice to see them again. Lisa and I knitted, Dan and John oogled over ammo, and we all ate and laughed a lot.
So far so good. Right?
We left John and Lisa's and drove through the rest of North Carolina. That was fine. We got to Virginia, which at first was fine, too. Then we hit the mountains. They're not fun to drive through. Well, actually, I'm sure they can be, assuming you aren't hauling 30 feet worth of all your material possessions. But even so, while it wasn't enjoyable, it was ok. Until the Virginia/West Virginia border. We stopped to get gas in Hicksville (no, I did NOT make that up. Really.). In the station, this older man with missing teeth and a long, grizzled beard told us that a big storm was scheduled to come through shortly, and that we'd better get as far as we could go before it started. Dan and I promptly got into the U-Haul and starting driving at an impressive 40 miles per hour (Apparently 30 feet of crap makes it really hard to accelerate up a mountain -- who'd've thunk it??).
The hours after that were the scariest driving I've ever ridden through. Dan gets MAJOR admiration from me for geting us through that. You see, Hicksville (I can't help but snort when I write that) roughly marks the beginning of THE MOUNTAINS. Those things we'd seen up until then? HILLS IN COMPARISON. Really, at one point there was a sign telling us how high up we were and I freaked out. We were WELL over 3,000 feet. By that point, the air was so thin that I got a nosebleed and was getting dizzy. Because I suck like that. But Dan trucked onward, and I'm greatly in debt to him for getting us into Ohio, when the landscape slowly started to become a little more flat (but nothing like Florida. These people who told us Ohio was flat? THEY LIED.) Oh yeah, and that storm? We drove through it. There was no place to stop, so we had no other option. Because I take back anything I've ever said about Alabama. West Virginia IS the armpit of the United States. No town, few people (and all related), and just lots and lots of mountains. I'm sure its beautiful when you're driving through without a U-Haul in a horrible storm. I wouldn't know, though.
We drove that night through and got into Cleveland at 6 a.m. And then we collapsed for a couple of hours, got up, and went to go find a place to live. We're turning in a rental application today. Because no matter how nice this hotel is and how nice it is to have a bed so big and soft that I can jump up and down on my side without waking Dan up, we're not millionaires and can't live here. And I wouldn't want to; I want our own little space, with our own familiar furniture and knick-knacks. I can't believe how much I miss my old home. I want to start setting up a new one.
We got a late start when leaving Miami and ended up spending our first night on the road in Ormand Beach. Because do you know what its like to drive a 17-foot U-Haul that has a trailer with a car on it attached to it? Its like driving 30 feet of junk behind you, except that 30 feet of junk happens to be all of you material possessions. No pressure, or anything.
We discovered something important this first day: the U-Haul radio is possessed. No, really, it is. It won't turn off, first of all. You can turn the volume all the way down, but it will randomly decide to turn it back up again. And sometimes, when you go to turn it down again, it just gets louder and louder. And then your eardrums explode and blood leaks from all your facial cavities. Well no, not quite, but it sure feels like it sometimes.
We stayed with John and Lisa our second night on the road, and it was really, really nice to see them again. Lisa and I knitted, Dan and John oogled over ammo, and we all ate and laughed a lot.
So far so good. Right?
We left John and Lisa's and drove through the rest of North Carolina. That was fine. We got to Virginia, which at first was fine, too. Then we hit the mountains. They're not fun to drive through. Well, actually, I'm sure they can be, assuming you aren't hauling 30 feet worth of all your material possessions. But even so, while it wasn't enjoyable, it was ok. Until the Virginia/West Virginia border. We stopped to get gas in Hicksville (no, I did NOT make that up. Really.). In the station, this older man with missing teeth and a long, grizzled beard told us that a big storm was scheduled to come through shortly, and that we'd better get as far as we could go before it started. Dan and I promptly got into the U-Haul and starting driving at an impressive 40 miles per hour (Apparently 30 feet of crap makes it really hard to accelerate up a mountain -- who'd've thunk it??).
The hours after that were the scariest driving I've ever ridden through. Dan gets MAJOR admiration from me for geting us through that. You see, Hicksville (I can't help but snort when I write that) roughly marks the beginning of THE MOUNTAINS. Those things we'd seen up until then? HILLS IN COMPARISON. Really, at one point there was a sign telling us how high up we were and I freaked out. We were WELL over 3,000 feet. By that point, the air was so thin that I got a nosebleed and was getting dizzy. Because I suck like that. But Dan trucked onward, and I'm greatly in debt to him for getting us into Ohio, when the landscape slowly started to become a little more flat (but nothing like Florida. These people who told us Ohio was flat? THEY LIED.) Oh yeah, and that storm? We drove through it. There was no place to stop, so we had no other option. Because I take back anything I've ever said about Alabama. West Virginia IS the armpit of the United States. No town, few people (and all related), and just lots and lots of mountains. I'm sure its beautiful when you're driving through without a U-Haul in a horrible storm. I wouldn't know, though.
We drove that night through and got into Cleveland at 6 a.m. And then we collapsed for a couple of hours, got up, and went to go find a place to live. We're turning in a rental application today. Because no matter how nice this hotel is and how nice it is to have a bed so big and soft that I can jump up and down on my side without waking Dan up, we're not millionaires and can't live here. And I wouldn't want to; I want our own little space, with our own familiar furniture and knick-knacks. I can't believe how much I miss my old home. I want to start setting up a new one.
Almost home?
Dan and I are safely in Cleveland, despite all of West Virginia's efforts to kill us. But more on that later.
We got a late start when leaving Miami and ended up spending our first night on the road in Ormand Beach. Because do you know what its like to drive a 17-foot U-Haul that has a trailer with a car on it attached to it? Its like driving 30 feet of junk behind you, except that 30 feet of junk happens to be all of you material possessions. No pressure, or anything.
We discovered something important this first day: the U-Haul radio is possessed. No, really, it is. It won't turn off, first of all. You can turn the volume all the way down, but it will randomly decide to turn it back up again. And sometimes, when you go to turn it down again, it just gets louder and louder. And then your eardrums explode and blood leaks from all your facial cavities. Well no, not quite, but it sure feels like it sometimes.
We stayed with John and Lisa our second night on the road, and it was really, really nice to see them again. Lisa and I knitted, Dan and John oogled over ammo, and we all ate and laughed a lot.
So far so good. Right?
We left John and Lisa's and drove through the rest of North Carolina. That was fine. We got to Virginia, which at first was fine, too. Then we hit the mountains. They're not fun to drive through. Well, actually, I'm sure they can be, assuming you aren't hauling 30 feet worth of all your material possessions. But even so, while it wasn't enjoyable, it was ok. Until the Virginia/West Virginia border. We stopped to get gas in Hicksville (no, I did NOT make that up. Really.). In the station, this older man with missing teeth and a long, grizzled beard told us that a big storm was scheduled to come through shortly, and that we'd better get as far as we could go before it started. Dan and I promptly got into the U-Haul and starting driving at an impressive 40 miles per hour (Apparently 30 feet of crap makes it really hard to accelerate up a mountain -- who'd've thunk it??).
The hours after that were the scariest driving I've ever ridden through. Dan gets MAJOR admiration from me for geting us through that. You see, Hicksville (I can't help but snort when I write that) roughly marks the beginning of THE MOUNTAINS. Those things we'd seen up until then? HILLS IN COMPARISON. Really, at one point there was a sign telling us how high up we were and I freaked out. We were WELL over 3,000 feet. By that point, the air was so thin that I got a nosebleed and was getting dizzy. Because I suck like that. But Dan trucked onward, and I'm greatly in debt to him for getting us into Ohio, when the landscape slowly started to become a little more flat (but nothing like Florida. These people who told us Ohio was flat? THEY LIED.) Oh yeah, and that storm? We drove through it. There was no place to stop, so we had no other option. Because I take back anything I've ever said about Alabama. West Virginia IS the armpit of the United States. No town, few people (and all related), and just lots and lots of mountains. I'm sure its beautiful when you're driving through without a U-Haul in a horrible storm. I wouldn't know, though.
We drove that night through and got into Cleveland at 6 a.m. And then we collapsed for a couple of hours, got up, and went to go find a place to live. We're turning in a rental application today. Because no matter how nice this hotel is and how nice it is to have a bed so big and soft that I can jump up and down on my side without waking Dan up, we're not millionaires and can't live here. And I wouldn't want to; I want our own little space, with our own familiar furniture and knick-knacks. I can't believe how much I miss my old home. I want to start setting up a new one.
We got a late start when leaving Miami and ended up spending our first night on the road in Ormand Beach. Because do you know what its like to drive a 17-foot U-Haul that has a trailer with a car on it attached to it? Its like driving 30 feet of junk behind you, except that 30 feet of junk happens to be all of you material possessions. No pressure, or anything.
We discovered something important this first day: the U-Haul radio is possessed. No, really, it is. It won't turn off, first of all. You can turn the volume all the way down, but it will randomly decide to turn it back up again. And sometimes, when you go to turn it down again, it just gets louder and louder. And then your eardrums explode and blood leaks from all your facial cavities. Well no, not quite, but it sure feels like it sometimes.
We stayed with John and Lisa our second night on the road, and it was really, really nice to see them again. Lisa and I knitted, Dan and John oogled over ammo, and we all ate and laughed a lot.
So far so good. Right?
We left John and Lisa's and drove through the rest of North Carolina. That was fine. We got to Virginia, which at first was fine, too. Then we hit the mountains. They're not fun to drive through. Well, actually, I'm sure they can be, assuming you aren't hauling 30 feet worth of all your material possessions. But even so, while it wasn't enjoyable, it was ok. Until the Virginia/West Virginia border. We stopped to get gas in Hicksville (no, I did NOT make that up. Really.). In the station, this older man with missing teeth and a long, grizzled beard told us that a big storm was scheduled to come through shortly, and that we'd better get as far as we could go before it started. Dan and I promptly got into the U-Haul and starting driving at an impressive 40 miles per hour (Apparently 30 feet of crap makes it really hard to accelerate up a mountain -- who'd've thunk it??).
The hours after that were the scariest driving I've ever ridden through. Dan gets MAJOR admiration from me for geting us through that. You see, Hicksville (I can't help but snort when I write that) roughly marks the beginning of THE MOUNTAINS. Those things we'd seen up until then? HILLS IN COMPARISON. Really, at one point there was a sign telling us how high up we were and I freaked out. We were WELL over 3,000 feet. By that point, the air was so thin that I got a nosebleed and was getting dizzy. Because I suck like that. But Dan trucked onward, and I'm greatly in debt to him for getting us into Ohio, when the landscape slowly started to become a little more flat (but nothing like Florida. These people who told us Ohio was flat? THEY LIED.) Oh yeah, and that storm? We drove through it. There was no place to stop, so we had no other option. Because I take back anything I've ever said about Alabama. West Virginia IS the armpit of the United States. No town, few people (and all related), and just lots and lots of mountains. I'm sure its beautiful when you're driving through without a U-Haul in a horrible storm. I wouldn't know, though.
We drove that night through and got into Cleveland at 6 a.m. And then we collapsed for a couple of hours, got up, and went to go find a place to live. We're turning in a rental application today. Because no matter how nice this hotel is and how nice it is to have a bed so big and soft that I can jump up and down on my side without waking Dan up, we're not millionaires and can't live here. And I wouldn't want to; I want our own little space, with our own familiar furniture and knick-knacks. I can't believe how much I miss my old home. I want to start setting up a new one.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
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!
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!
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