My arms are sore. From taking out the trash. Admittedly, it was two bags of trash the majority of which were Great Value brand spices (I shudder to think). Still, this does not bode well for the pending move on Saturday. I'm already having cringe-worthy fantasies that involve the washing machine bouncing down the cement stairs of my apartment like a rogue pinball.
It's enough to make me start a bit of a fuss...I just texted The Mister: "Are any of your boyfriends going to help us move Saturday? They kind of owe you...", which they do. The Mister helped one of his now en-fianced friends move from Mobile to Biloxi and then to another town in Mississippi (opinion withheld). I know one of those days I was writing my thesis; for the life of me, I can't remember the other time I wasn't free to help The Mister move his friends further into the wilderness.
His other friend, The Mister packed and moved all of his stuff when he deployed to the desert for a few months back in September. Considering this desert trip didn't appear out of nowhere like a 10 lb fatsplosion, I think it's uber generous of my fiance to take care of his mate like that. If it had been me...well, I'm a woman, I probably would have thrown his things down stairs before putting them in a bag. Although, if I had power of attorney, I could treat myself to a massage after that work...hmmm...yes, this is why women just "do it themselves"...they know there are other women who think the same way.
So, The Mister's best mates owe him a helping hand. Will he get it? We'll see. In the meanwhile, I'm moving boxes to and fro. I've got linear bruises flanking my "biceps" and my arms are so sore, you'd think they were string cheese. I'm not sure how you're supposed to make that physical connection, but then, here we are.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
In a Galaxy Far, Far Away...
I knew the last vestiges of sanity were leaving my body last night as I --in a concentrated attempt to stop my mind from whirring obsessively over what was left to do before moving next week, focused all of my mental energy on likening The Mister's and my moving situation to Star Wars. Would we be moving from Alderon to Tatuine or the Millennium Falcon? (And, I don't care if I misspelled anything as I am very tired.) Naturally, The Mister would be Hans Solo and I would be Princess Leia...yes...
I managed to eventually drift into the land of nod where I dreamed about polygamous marriages. I clearly have a very misguided understanding of Star Wars. Admittedly, it was less traumatic than dreaming about incestuous ones. I digress...(was I ever really here?)
The house is coming along nicely. I see more and more of my mother's neurosis in myself every day as I insist on painting the baseboards in the most meticulous fashion possible. I should be done by 2012. The end result, however, is well worth the tedium as the baseboards look shiny, pretty, and new.
Most unfortunately, I do not have until 2012 to move, in fact, The Mister and I are moving my apartment (and the kitties!) next Saturday. As I got ready for church on Sunday, this reality hit my like a sack of bricks. Oh. My. Gaw. With the exception of the addition of about 30 Avon boxes, my apartment did not look as though it would be ready to be moved anytime in the near future.
I started packing my closet last night and finished it early this morning. Tonight, I plan to buck up and pack the kitchen (it's just so hard to see all of my beautiful cookwares sealed unceremoniously into boxes). I'm also going to the house to clean the kitchen so I can rescue my beloved cookware from cardboard purgatory ASAP.
Thus far today, I've warded off the urge to curl up under my desk and sleep like a baby kitten (when I get tired while I'm painting at the house, I just lay back on the floor and close my eyes...an hour later, I feel better) with energy drinks. Mmm...synthetic. Two Red Bull's and a Starbucks Doubleshot of espresso later, I don't feel any more awake...just a dull headache.
Needless to say, I can't wait for this month --and everything that will invariably go with it, to be over.
I managed to eventually drift into the land of nod where I dreamed about polygamous marriages. I clearly have a very misguided understanding of Star Wars. Admittedly, it was less traumatic than dreaming about incestuous ones. I digress...(was I ever really here?)
The house is coming along nicely. I see more and more of my mother's neurosis in myself every day as I insist on painting the baseboards in the most meticulous fashion possible. I should be done by 2012. The end result, however, is well worth the tedium as the baseboards look shiny, pretty, and new.
Most unfortunately, I do not have until 2012 to move, in fact, The Mister and I are moving my apartment (and the kitties!) next Saturday. As I got ready for church on Sunday, this reality hit my like a sack of bricks. Oh. My. Gaw. With the exception of the addition of about 30 Avon boxes, my apartment did not look as though it would be ready to be moved anytime in the near future.
I started packing my closet last night and finished it early this morning. Tonight, I plan to buck up and pack the kitchen (it's just so hard to see all of my beautiful cookwares sealed unceremoniously into boxes). I'm also going to the house to clean the kitchen so I can rescue my beloved cookware from cardboard purgatory ASAP.
Thus far today, I've warded off the urge to curl up under my desk and sleep like a baby kitten (when I get tired while I'm painting at the house, I just lay back on the floor and close my eyes...an hour later, I feel better) with energy drinks. Mmm...synthetic. Two Red Bull's and a Starbucks Doubleshot of espresso later, I don't feel any more awake...just a dull headache.
Needless to say, I can't wait for this month --and everything that will invariably go with it, to be over.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Where Were We? --Still Alive! Still Alive!
So much has happened. Okay, not a darn thing with the wedding, but life has been an absolute whoosh since the last time I blogged!
For one, The Mister closed on the house. There was a bit of an unsavory snafu when the keys to the house weren't presented at closing (The Mister's dreams of that first-time-home-buyer photo-op were dashed...to bits...you do not want to know how long it took for the keys to finally be popped into his perfect nail-bitten hands.)...but, the point is, the house was CLOSED UPON. There is a house. In the Mister's name. I am so proud of him! And, by the time he was allowed into the house the night he closed, I think he was pretty happy, too.
The full-on giddiness didn't commence for The Mister until the next day when he took a full day off of work to mow the lawn. I gave him my credit card that I paid off with teaching money (what, I'm proud of paying that ho off!) to purchase a (what he assures me is) fabulous Honda motored lawn mower.
So, in the meantime, I started teaching my first-ever in person college class. Go. Me. My students are darling...all cute, no really, and I'm ridiculously enthused about teaching grammar to them (I think I'm channeling one of my favorite professors ever and a member of my thesis committee on that one!). I have one kid who falls asleep in his hand, so I'm sure he's equally excited. Que Sera, Sera. At any rate, my Tuesdays and Thursdays and gone from keeping me from home for eight hours to eleven. Balls, Man.
A week later, I started teaching an online class for extra swag. Busy as a bee my arse. More like, "What does a stroke feel like again?" busy, if you ask me! At any rate, my online kids are adorable, too...so motivated (most of them).
Over Labor Day weekend, instead of anything that even remotely hovered in the realm of fun, the Mister and I started painting the interior of the house. Well, on Saturday, I helped by painting the exterior around the door frame. Then, we moved inside...not before his (wonderful) family dropped by for a visit.
They all met my daddy (one down...three to go...that's mom, Oma, and the Boy, my brother, mind), which was a delightful time, especially for me, as I giggled myself silly over the fact that my fiance's family could just not get over my daddy's likeness to former President Clinton. And yes, for the record, Dad does look a lot like Clinton. Same hair type / style, piercing blue eyes, and a muscular build. In fact, I learned that random strangers will approach my dad and ask for a photo because he looks so similar to Clinton. Wow.
We painted, painted, and painted allllll weekend. Well, let me back up...the Friday before our alleged holiday, I booked the tickets for our HONEYMOON! Yes, The Mister and I are going to CIAO Italia for our post-nuptial celebration.
Because tickets are cheaper, we are flying in to Milan. We will leave Mobile in the afternoon on the day after our wedding and go to Dallas to Madrid and finally, to Milano. We will leave Milano and take a three hour train to Roma. By the time we will be in Roma, it will be March 28, the Mister's 26th birthday. We will enjoy Tuesday and Wednesday in Roma (Wednesday, the Pope usually appears)...that will be the substitute celebration day for my then-husband (but he doesn't know that yet...don't worry, he doesn't read these blogs unless I send them to him!...I plan to make plans!). Thursday, I would like to see Pompeii...our subsequent plans involve a day in Tuscany (my birthday gift to myself!), two to three days in Florence and the same in Venice. We will most likely spend the Friday before we return home in Milano so we can catch our flight back to London and then the U.S. of A. on Saturday morning. What a whirlwind! My heart races at the thought!
So, anyway, not to be a Debbie Downer (in the words of The Mister), I booked the tickets, and the travel agent charged me twice. BAAAAALLLLLS. Who has that kind of money just laying around!? I know I don't! Grrr....
A long weekend later and Tuesday night, the evil extra charge dropped off, so all is finally right with the world.
Tonight, I'm meeting with a volunteer agency to work on a grant with a feral / homeless cat spay/neuter program (please, pray Mobile gets this grant...these poor kitties need to be fixed so they don't continue to breed wild, homeless cats!) and then, finish painting the casa!
Life is good, ladies and gentlemen. The Mister is the most handsome man I've ever laid eyes on (honestly, I tell him all the time that there just isn't enough time in the world to just look at him), we're going to get married, we'll be hopping a plane to Italy in no time, and it's practically the holiday season...sorry, but I get pee-my-pants excited for the holis! Nothing like a delicious cinnamon apple or spiced cider scent to set the mood...a freshly carved jackolantern on the front porch...and then, I can unleash the Bath and Body Works fresh Balsam scent for Christmas. Yes, I am a nerd. Send money.
For one, The Mister closed on the house. There was a bit of an unsavory snafu when the keys to the house weren't presented at closing (The Mister's dreams of that first-time-home-buyer photo-op were dashed...to bits...you do not want to know how long it took for the keys to finally be popped into his perfect nail-bitten hands.)...but, the point is, the house was CLOSED UPON. There is a house. In the Mister's name. I am so proud of him! And, by the time he was allowed into the house the night he closed, I think he was pretty happy, too.
The full-on giddiness didn't commence for The Mister until the next day when he took a full day off of work to mow the lawn. I gave him my credit card that I paid off with teaching money (what, I'm proud of paying that ho off!) to purchase a (what he assures me is) fabulous Honda motored lawn mower.
So, in the meantime, I started teaching my first-ever in person college class. Go. Me. My students are darling...all cute, no really, and I'm ridiculously enthused about teaching grammar to them (I think I'm channeling one of my favorite professors ever and a member of my thesis committee on that one!). I have one kid who falls asleep in his hand, so I'm sure he's equally excited. Que Sera, Sera. At any rate, my Tuesdays and Thursdays and gone from keeping me from home for eight hours to eleven. Balls, Man.
A week later, I started teaching an online class for extra swag. Busy as a bee my arse. More like, "What does a stroke feel like again?" busy, if you ask me! At any rate, my online kids are adorable, too...so motivated (most of them).
Over Labor Day weekend, instead of anything that even remotely hovered in the realm of fun, the Mister and I started painting the interior of the house. Well, on Saturday, I helped by painting the exterior around the door frame. Then, we moved inside...not before his (wonderful) family dropped by for a visit.
They all met my daddy (one down...three to go...that's mom, Oma, and the Boy, my brother, mind), which was a delightful time, especially for me, as I giggled myself silly over the fact that my fiance's family could just not get over my daddy's likeness to former President Clinton. And yes, for the record, Dad does look a lot like Clinton. Same hair type / style, piercing blue eyes, and a muscular build. In fact, I learned that random strangers will approach my dad and ask for a photo because he looks so similar to Clinton. Wow.
We painted, painted, and painted allllll weekend. Well, let me back up...the Friday before our alleged holiday, I booked the tickets for our HONEYMOON! Yes, The Mister and I are going to CIAO Italia for our post-nuptial celebration.
Because tickets are cheaper, we are flying in to Milan. We will leave Mobile in the afternoon on the day after our wedding and go to Dallas to Madrid and finally, to Milano. We will leave Milano and take a three hour train to Roma. By the time we will be in Roma, it will be March 28, the Mister's 26th birthday. We will enjoy Tuesday and Wednesday in Roma (Wednesday, the Pope usually appears)...that will be the substitute celebration day for my then-husband (but he doesn't know that yet...don't worry, he doesn't read these blogs unless I send them to him!...I plan to make plans!). Thursday, I would like to see Pompeii...our subsequent plans involve a day in Tuscany (my birthday gift to myself!), two to three days in Florence and the same in Venice. We will most likely spend the Friday before we return home in Milano so we can catch our flight back to London and then the U.S. of A. on Saturday morning. What a whirlwind! My heart races at the thought!
So, anyway, not to be a Debbie Downer (in the words of The Mister), I booked the tickets, and the travel agent charged me twice. BAAAAALLLLLS. Who has that kind of money just laying around!? I know I don't! Grrr....
A long weekend later and Tuesday night, the evil extra charge dropped off, so all is finally right with the world.
Tonight, I'm meeting with a volunteer agency to work on a grant with a feral / homeless cat spay/neuter program (please, pray Mobile gets this grant...these poor kitties need to be fixed so they don't continue to breed wild, homeless cats!) and then, finish painting the casa!
Life is good, ladies and gentlemen. The Mister is the most handsome man I've ever laid eyes on (honestly, I tell him all the time that there just isn't enough time in the world to just look at him), we're going to get married, we'll be hopping a plane to Italy in no time, and it's practically the holiday season...sorry, but I get pee-my-pants excited for the holis! Nothing like a delicious cinnamon apple or spiced cider scent to set the mood...a freshly carved jackolantern on the front porch...and then, I can unleash the Bath and Body Works fresh Balsam scent for Christmas. Yes, I am a nerd. Send money.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)