My New Home, Part 2

I was a little worried about the location of my new place in Savannah. There are certain roads you shouldn't live near if you want to feel safe, and I am a block away from one, and a block away from another. If I were one block east or south of where I am, I would be in an iffy part of town.

Keep in mind that the couple moving in above me won't be there for another 3 weeks after I move in. It will be just me and Sammy at first, all alone in the new place.

Math time!

One big, old empty house
living on the edge of the safe part of town
+ my overactive imagination
-------------------------------
= major panic.

Who knows an area better than the people who live there, right? I mean, after being in Columbia for 6 years, I can tell anyone where to live and where to avoid. So I hit up some Savannah message boards to gather some opinions about the level of safety I could expect.

EVERY person (there were about 10) who replied told me that if I can get out of my lease, I should. The phrases "not a good area at all" and "I would not want my daughter to live there" and "wouldn't be able to find a less desirable location if you tried" were used. Oh dear. That's not good.

So last week, I basically freaked out and thought about breaking my lease. Or buying a gun. Or a very large German Shepherd with a nasty temper. Or a taser. Or something. Anything. All I could think was "I am alone, on the ground floor and it would not be very difficult to break into my house if you were a very large and very violent bad guy. I am toast. I might as well start preparing myself to be beaten up, robbed and gang-banged." After he stopped teasing me about being so paranoid, I made CN promise to stay with me for a few days once I move in.

Luckily, MJ calmed me down a LOT and reminded me that I will probably be fine and that there's no way to 100% avoid crime anywhere you live. She lived in a really REALLY bad part of town when she first moved to Columbia, and she had no problems. Just because you might live near some sketchy areas doesn't meat you're guaranteed to be a crime victim. And just because you're in a nice part of time doesn't mean you won't be a target, either. She said the message board people were probably trying to freak me out and all of them probably live in a cushy suburb somewhere. One man's ghetto is another man's "oh, this is fine."

And the most common crime in my part of downtown is car break-ins. (I looked it up on the police dept website) Which probably won't happen to me, because I drive a friggin Pontiac Vibe and all I keep in there are some scratched up CDs. I'm not much of a target.

So I asked my landlord if I could install some motion-detector lights, and he said yes. I asked MJ if I could borrow her super-scary chocolate lab mix, Nabisco. She said yes. I felt that would be good, but if I started to feel a little nervous, I would think about getting a taser or a home security system.

Yesterday, MJ and I went down to Savannah so she could see my place and I could start moving some of my stuff in, get my key, think about where my furniture will go, etc. Once we were all done, we took a walk, grabbed some lunch and came back to the house. We sat on the front steps and watched the neighborhood for a while. We didn't see anything scary or sketchy. It was actually very very quiet. We went back inside and were about to leave when we heard a commotion outside. It was a group of kids. Two of them were having a fist fight in the middle of the street! These kids were maybe in middle school. After a little noise, a bunch of people came outside to see what was going on, and one of the moms in the building across the street broke it up. It was maybe 30 seconds of craziness. No biggie.

I took advantage of the situation and introduced myself to a neighbor and began asking questions about the safety of the neighborhood. "You just witnessed the worst thing I've seen since I moved here," he said. WHEW! That was good to hear! "Everyone on this street expects everyone else to look out for each other," he continued. The street was about half renters, half owner-occupied. Which is a good mix, I think.

He introduced me to a few more neighbors, and they all said they felt fine living there. They had never seen any crimes or anything unusual or dangerous. The iffy-looking building across the street was full of low-income families -- lots of single moms with kids who never bothered anyone. They said I had nothing to worry about, as long as I don't do anything stupid (like leave my doors unlocked) or showy. (Not like I have any fancy gadgets to be showy with!) My house is surrounded by college kids with irregular schedules who throw house parties on the weekends. If their parents can sleep at night knowing their kids are ok, then I can, too.

So I feel a LOT better. But I'm still going to borrow one of CN's golf clubs and put up motion detector lights. Just in case.

My New Home

One more thing about ring info: so we were worried about getting the ring, which is currently in Belgium, over to the United States without paying major customs duties. Then my mom found out that her friend is vacationing in Europe in March. So my aunt is going to just meet up with her to give her the ring while she's on vacation. Problem solved! Yay!

Ok, on to other big news: my new place in Savannah. Last weekend, I went down to Savannah with CN to look at places. We stopped at a property management place to get keys so we could go check out some places.

"Ok, which properties do you want to go see?" the lady behind the desk asked.

"510 Price....203 E. Gwinnet..." I said, reading off their list of properties for rent.

As CN and I were figuring all of this out, a girl about my age walked in with her mom and her sister. They walked up to the desk and had the same conversation with the lady.

The girl recited the same addresses we did! We laughed about it, and then decided that hey -- we might as well carpool! So we all piled into CN's car (he has GPS, which came in very handy) and started looking at places. We had SO much fun! I learned that she is a newlywed whose hubby is going to be a student at the school where I'm going to be working. She's moving up from Orlando and is just a little bit younger than me. She and I really hit it off. She's totally adorable!

Most of the places were total dumps. I'm talking visibly slanted floors, back doors that literally do not close, washers/dryers in the middle of the kitchen, leaking ceilings, wobbly staircases, you name it. It began to be really funny and we all started just making fun of the places. Each one was worse than the last.

As we were finishing up looking at places, she said she had another appointment at 2pm to look at a place I hadn't heard about. I asked her if we could tag along, and she said sure. So after we split up for lunch, we met her at the 2pm appointment. The guy there showed us around here. While it was a lot nicer than anything else we'd seen that day, he could tell that none of us were blown away. They were a little cramped for my liking. And since they were new construction, I was a little let down. I really had my heart set on living in an old house.

So after showing us around, the guy said, "Ok, I was planning on trying to sell it as condos, but I'm not getting a lot of bites in this market. So would you like to see the house I bought and restored? I've decided to rent it out. It's not part of this organization. It's my own personal thing and it's a block from here."

"Sure!" we replied.

We walked down to a yellow house, built around the turn of the century. The bottom floor has a one-bedroom place for me and a 2 bedroom place for the other girl and her hubby. There's off-street parking and the rent was about $100 cheaper than other places on the same street. We are 4 blocks from Forsyth Park and about 2 blocks from the grocery store. I can still walk to work, too. Plus, it's JUST been re-done. No creepy bathroom or old appliances.

We walked in, I took one look at the gorgeous hardwood floors and the beautiful decorative fireplaces and the normal-sized kitchen (a rarity in downtown Savannah!) and shouted, "SOLD!"

The other girl took one look at the upstairs place and fell in love, too. So we are housemates! Isn't that so weird how we just randomly met like that??? And she is so cool!

What's even weirder is that this is not the first time this has happened to her! The last time she went apartment shopping, she met a girl in the rental office and they ended up being roommates and very good friends! They lived together for 6 years before she got married last year. The girl was even in her wedding! Very strange.

So we go back to the office to sign the leases with this guy, who is extremely nice. "Oh! I need to call and cancel my next appointment. I was going to go look at a house over on Lincoln street, but I guess I don't need to now," she said.

"Wait....1003 Lincoln St.?" I said.

"Are you the 4:30 appointment?" she asked.

"Are you the 4:00 one?" I asked.

We burst into giggles.

Anyway, here are photos of our house. I'm on the bottom, she's on the top. (Ooh, that sounds pervy! Tee hee!). I took photos of the inside, but they are on her camera, and I'm waiting for her to email them to me. This is all I have for now. The first one is the front of the house, the 2nd one is the back of it:
There's hooks on the ceiling of the front porch where we can hang a porch swing! Woo hoo!
And yes, he's going to landscape/pave this so it's not just dirt. Those 2 windows on the bottom floor are my kitchen.

Yay! We have been calling and messaging each other on facebook already. She likes to cook! And drink coffee! And she has a dog!

This is so awesome.

Or so I thought. Stay tuned....

Ring Update

Oh dear. Where to begin? So much has happened in the last 4 days....

So Friday night after work, CN and I looked at some rings in a couple of jewelry stores. I tried on some Tacori look-alikes, and I was very sad to realize that they didn't look right on me! They were too bulky. Designs that intricate mandate a bigger ring, and I have fairly small and delicate hands. So they were beautiful, but just very awkward-looking on me.

Instead, I fell in love with a much simpler white gold design: a 3/4 carat center stone (round, white diamond, prong-set), with .10 carat prong-set round yellow diamonds on either side. On the other side of the yellow diamonds were teeny-tiny prong-set white diamonds, stopping about halfway down the ring. (My suspicions were correct -- the eternity bands, where the diamonds make a full circle around your finger, are uncomfortable!) All in all, the ring would be around $5k, which is reasonable, I think.

I could not find an exact replica on the jewelry store's website, but this is pretty close. Just pretend the little ones on either side of the center stone are yellow:


While I wanted to keep looking, because-- hello!-- ring shopping is super fun, this one ended up being my favorite one out of three stores. It looked the most proportionate to my hand, it was comfortable, it wasn't outrageously expensive, and it felt like "me".

CN and the jewelry store guy did some number crunching, and if CN financed the whole thing, the monthly payments would be around $250.

"That's the same amount I pay on my Jeep every month," he said, thinking out loud.

"Hmm. Go figure," I replied, deadpan.

"I need to get rid of it anyway. I never drive it, and I use my company car anyway. And parking is so bad in downtown Savannah. We really don't need three cars..." he continued.

I just nodded in agreement.

He did seem a little freaked out about the whole process, but he said it was because he always gets nervous whenever he spends a large amount of money at one time. He assured me it wasn't because he didn't want to marry me or wasn't ready yet. I wanted to make sure. So when we got home, I talked to him a little bit more. I just wanted to be sure he was really ready to take this next step and start moving forward. I told him that if he wasn't ready, this was the time to tell me. I also said that if he didn't feel comfortable buying an expensive ring right now, he can get me a cheaper one -- the cost of the ring wasn't as important to me as being engaged was. I explained that I didn't want him resenting me later if he felt uncomfortable with buying something like that. "No, no, I want to get you something you like! Something nice! It's just that with both of us moving and our mortgages...money is just kind of crazy right now, and I am just not seeing how this is all going to work."

I agreed. So I told him that it's no big deal -- he can just get his own place when he moves to Savannah and we can figure it out later. I told him we can put it off and just live together later. He can take his time and save up his money. No biggie. Which works fine, anyway, since we don't know when he'll be joining me in Savannah. Could be months from now.

Well, he surprised the heck out of me. He put his Jeep, his drum set and his guitar on craigslist yesterday! Woo hoo! He must not be as freaked out about all of this as I thought! Yay!!!

Of course, I had to email the above pic to The Czarina to show her what I liked and tell her everything. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when she called me soon after and said, "So, can I tell everyone that you are engaged????!!"

"Uh, well, no. I don't have a ring and he hasn't asked me yet, Mom, so no." I answered.

"And he hasn't called me to ask my permission yet, either," she noted with a tone of sarcasm.

"I know, Mom. I told him he has to call you before he can ask me," I said.

"I am just so baffled as to what is going on, though. I mean, you're doing it all backwards. He's supposed to ask first, then you go pick out the ring. I'm very confused," she went on.

"Well, Mom, he really didn't know exactly what all was involved with getting engaged. He thought he just needed to get me a $200 wedding band and we just go get married," I said.

"He's right. Why not? The ring's not the important part. He can get you a gemstone one that's cheaper. I mean, what are you waiting for, anyway?" she said.

"I know, Mom. I agree. I told him all of that. But he's a guy, and he wants to save up his money, so I had to show him how much these things cost, and what kind of ring I like, because he had no idea," I replied.

As you can probably tell, she's ready for me to get married yesterday. The woman is chomping at the bit to be a grandma. All her friends' kids are married with babies, and I know she feels left out. She has really surprised me. I knew she would get like this, but I didn't realize it would be so soon. He hasn't even proposed! Sheesh! Calm down!

So one trip to a jewelry store has turned my mom into a monster. She's already more obsessed than I am. I keep getting emails and voicemails with ideas for how we can consider ourselves engaged without him having to buy a nice engagement ring: "Tell him to just get you a gemstone one!" "Go check out estate sales!" "All these jewelry stores are having sales right now!" "Just get a little one for now. You can upgrade later!" "Just set the date and get the ring later!"

Jeez, Louise!

Just for the heck of it, I did look at a calendar and realized that the last Saturday in June 2010 is my dad's birthday -- the 26th. Since he won't be there to walk me down the aisle, I have always wanted to get married on his birthday. So this date actually works perfectly. I told CN about that and he said, "Sounds good to me." :)

When I got to work this morning, I saw an email from The Czarina in my inbox. "Oh boy. Here we go," I thought. I clicked on it. Well, it pretty much made my day. Apparently, she was too excited to keep it all bottled up, and she must have called her sister last night, because the email essentially told me this:

"I talked to Aunt M. last night. Told her about you and CN going ring shopping. She told me to tell you two to stop shopping right away -- she has your grandmother's ring, and was going to give it to you anyway, since you're named after her. She said she might as well give it to you now. So you can have that ring. It's a platinum solitaire. Love, Mom"

My Aunt M never had any children, so it does make sense that she would eventually give me the ring. But I had forgotten all about it! I have always hoped for a family ring, but never thought it was possible. This ring in particular is especially sentimental for me, because I am named after this particular grandmother, but I never met her. So this was really great news!!! I am so excited to have a family ring. I've seen it before, but aside from remembering that I like it, I can't remember what it looks like. I think it's a pretty simple setting, with a generous diamond. I will keep it exactly how it is, though. I get to have a really neat connection to a grandma I never got to meet. That is the best kind of ring, I think. And I know CN is relieved to hear that he won't have to stress out about finding a way to buy one. :)

YAY!!! This is so great. I must have cashed in all my karma chips or something, because lately I have been feeling like I have won the lottery. How could life get any better?

Rings I Like

Y'all, I don't know why you even read my blog. Seriously. I never get around to read anyone's anymore, it seems. I feel really guilty about it. I promise I will get to it soon!!!! My life is just really bonkers right now!!!

Ok, so CN had major sticker shock when I sent these to him, but I figured I could at least show him my dream rings, right??? OMG I am beyond in love with Tacori rings....click on "multi-view" to get a better look.

Like this one.

And this one.

Or this one.

But I think this one is probably my favorite!!! Yeah, it's pretty safe to say that I'm obsessed with Tacori. Unfortunately, I will probably never get one. :(

I'm hoping we can find a Tacori-look-alike for a much smaller price. I know there are some Scott Kay ones out there that are similar and more affordable. And there's a jewelry store in town that is going out of business, so we are going tonight to go check it out. They are having a lot of great deals. (If anyone has any tips for buying good rings at a discount, please let me know!)

Basically, I want either a round or oval diamond, either a solitaire or a 3-stone, and I want an intricate band of some kind. I really like that Art Deco 1920s look. I want my ring to look antique. I don't care so much if it's white gold or platinum. Does that make any sense?

Also, to my female readers -- do you have a ring that has diamonds all the way around the band, or carving around the whole band? Because I really like the look, but I'm worried that it will irritate the insides of my fingers, and maybe I should have a band with all the stuff just on the top, so the underside of the band is smooth and non-irritating. I'm thinking long-term comfort, you know. :)

I didn't realize it, but it turns out that CN's mom doesn't have an engagement ring. She and her hubs just went and got married. But I suspect it may have been because it was the second marriage for both of them. Anyway, CN is so funny. He honestly thought engagement rings were like $800, including the wedding band and a decent-sized diamond. I guess you can tell he's never been engaged before, huh?

Poor CN. He had major sticker shock! LOL He was like, "That's the price, just for the setting???"

"Well, babe, you're supposed to spend 3 months salary, is what I've always heard," I replied.

"That's like.....a car!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, but I think that this is a much better investment, don't you? I mean, look at what you get!" I replied, trailing my hands over my body like a product model from The Price is Right. "It's a steal, really, if you think about it."

"Babe, I hate to tell you this, but it might be awhile before I can get one of those for you," he exclaimed. "With us moving...I'm going to have to save up for a while to get that."

After making some self-depricating jokes about how I guess I'm not worth it, he started laughing and telling me I'm crazy and silly. I told him that I will take whatever he can afford and that we can probably find something similar at a lower price. (My mom had the idea of maybe getting a big gemstone ring instead, which is an idea I like. I kind of want something different anyway. I saw a girl on tv once who got a pearl engagement ring. It was pretty cool.)

"Babe, the cost of the ring is not what's important to me. As long as it's a style I like, I'm good. I dont' want you to buy a big ring and then resent me for it later. I'll take what you can afford," I explained.

"You will? Cool!" he exclaimed. "Cubic zirconia from K-Mart it is!"

"That's not funny, CN."

Ring in the New Year?

Update: CN's job transfer to Savannah isn't finalized, but his boss said it looks "promising", whatever that means. He and I did some number crunching, and it really just makes so much financial sense for us to go ahead and shack up, dammit. We both have mortgages and we may not get renters for a few months. There's no way I could afford rent AND a mortgage on my own. (I am not getting that big of a raise!) Besides, we all know how bad I am with money. *ahem* So I am going to have to suck it up and hope that CN will eventually buy the cow, instead of only enjoying the free milk, if you get my drift.

And I am not 100% comfortable with it. I know what you are saying/thinking: "I did it with my man, and now we're married! Don't worry!" or "It's no big deal. He loves you. You will totally get married, so just chill and go with the flow." or "You never really know someone until you live with them. This will give you insight into your marriage!" or "Marriage, schmarriage! You need the 2nd income! Be glad you're on such good terms with your future roommate!"

Which are all valid comments. But I worry. What if one year of living together turns into three...five...eight...and I turn into Little Miss Where Is My Ring??? I don't want to be that girl. With the bitching and the nagging and the ultimatums. But I will eventually get there, I know it. I already have days where I want to scream at him, "What are you waiting for???!!!!" And I always joke that I am free on Saturday afternoon if he wants to run down to the courthouse.

Also, what if we break up? (Ok, at this point, it's extremely unlikely-- laughable, actually -- but still. It could happen!) Then I am stuck with a 12-month lease on my own. Ouch.

My point is, I want some security. Preferrably in the form of a large gemstone on that all-important finger. I want him to put his money where his mouth is. I have been trying to stay calm and trust that he will do it one day like he says he will. I have made him promise that it will be before my ovaries shrivel and before my boobs are down to my knees. But that's about as much as I have said. Deep down inside, I am scared of being left high and dry or turning into a shrill bitch.

And living with a man is something I always imagined doing after I got married. I guess I'm just old-fashioned. CN thinks shacking up is a no-brainer and he's not getting why I'm freaking out about it. I tell him it's because he doesn't have a uterus. Which puts a puzzled expression on his face.

When CN asked me a few weeks ago, "Could we live together if we got engaged? Or does it have to be marriage?" I didn't really know what to say. I hadn't thought about that option. But that's a decent amount of commitment. I know, in the logical part of my brain, that he's not going anywhere. He's in it for the long haul. But that lobe in my brain, the one in charge of "What if?", is buzzing with paranoia, and I can't shut it up. Triggered by his question, that worrysome lobe began quivering, and I almost blurted out, "No! Marry me, you commitment-phobe! What the hell?! We are perfect together! Stop stalling!"

But then I remembered: moving to Savannah was my idea. Not his. And he's totally down for going, no questions asked. Moving farther away from his family. Selling or renting his house. All the personal, financial and material upheaval that comes with living in a new place. He's down for it. Because he knows it's what I want and that it will make me happy. (It will make him happy, too, don't get me wrong -- he wanted to move there, too. In like 3 years. Not 3 months. LOL)

So I said, "Yes. We can live together if we are engaged."

And then I let it drop. I didn't push it anymore. In fact, with all the talking about moving, I kind of put it in the back of my head and decided that I would worry about that later. If we got engaged first, great, if not, oh well. In other words, I was totally caving on the issue. (Shhh! Don't tell him that.)

So imagine my surprise when last night, as I was cleaning up after our dinner of bean and cheese quesadillas. CN grabbed my hands and said, "Are you ok with living with me?"

And again, I didn't really know what to say. I was....mostly. I said, "Well, I mean, yeah. But it's not really the way I had planned it. But I don't see how else I can afford it. It just doesn't make sense for us to both move there and not live together."

"Would you feel better about it if I got you a ring?" he asked.

Well, duh.

"YES!" I shouted.

"Ok, well, we can go ring shopping. Email me some photos of what you like tomorrow when you get to work." [Note: At last count, I emailed 8.]

"Can we do that this weekend?" I asked, jumping up and down.

"I thought we were going to drive down to Savannah and look at apartments," he replied.

I reminded him that we don't even know what our budget is yet, and that we might as well just stay here and go ring shopping. He agreed.

WOO HOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Digital Hysteria

I decided to take a break from all my stressful moving duties and started looking for something to make me laugh.

I found a website that I can't believe I have never heard of: Stuff White People Like. It is a riot. Ever wonder why we like Farmer's Markets? Or Girls With Bangs? Or why we are ok with Taking a Year Off? This website explains (in a tongue-in-cheek way) why white people act the way they do. It's been very enlightening thus far. I'm learning a lot about myself. Because I'm about as white as it gets.

And of course, I am relying on my old stand-bys for a Friday afternoon laugh: FAIL blog, Engrish and LOL Dogs. If you don't know these, you can do a google search for them.

But what I really want to share with you is this video my coworker sent to me today. It's about the whole digital tv deadline in a few weeks. You know -- regular tvs won't work anymore and we all have to get digital cable or converter boxes, yada yada. OMG I was crying laughing at this. I watched it twice it was so funny. Enjoy, y'all. And have a great weekend!!!

Big News!!

Hi, Everybody! I know I've been MIA lately, but there's a good reason for it!!!!

No, I'm not engaged.

I know, that's what you were hoping for, right? Don't hold your breath. I know I'm not! My eggs will be shriveled into mummified remains before CN ever pops the question. Argh.

No, I have big news! Good news!! I can tell you what my big secret is now!!

I am moving to Savannah, GA in three weeks.

I am really excited, because that's where I want to live. But I'm really stressed because it's all happening REALLY fast and I am not super-prepared for all of this.

For the past couple of weeks, I've been busy with interviews and job applications and shopping for interview suits for more interviews...and then yesterday, I was offered the position. I'll be working at the library for a well-known Savannah art school.

And I'm scared shitless.

This job will expect a LOT more from me. I will be someone's boss for the first time--2 people, actually. I will be able to work a lot more independently. I am expected to travel more and do more overall. The working environment is (not to dis my current job!) a lot less laid-back and a lot more fast-paced than what I'm used to, so I will have to bring my "A game".

These are all good things, though. I'm just freaking out. I can do it. I'm excited for the challenge. It's just scary to give up all this stability: my house, my friends, my stable job, my boyfriend being right across the street....

So, in addition to that stress, I have the following problems:

1. I am broke as a joke. Moving costs money. And no, they aren't paying any moving expenses. I asked. I will need to get my tax refund ASAP.

2. I have to find someone to rent my house. NOW. (Trying to sell it in this economy is probably a waste of time. Besides, I just started getting equity. I wouldn't even profit if I sold it now.)

3. I can't rent a place in Savannah until I rent mine out, because that will determine if I can get a nice apartment or if I will have to live in my car. (Or in a van down by the river! LOL)

4. I do not know what CN is going to do. He is going to request a transfer from his job, but we don't know if he will get it. If not, we are looking at a long distance relationship until further notice. Which will stink, but it won't be the end of the world. It's only two and a half hours distance.

5. If he does get the job transfer, it will rock because they will pay for the movers.

6. But that also means we would probably end up living together, which is something I really don't want to do because I am old-fashioned, even though financially it makes a LOT of sense.

7. CN's dad took a turn for the worse and it's REALLY bad, so CN and I are stressed out about that, too. (I really think his dad might be pretty much near the end at this point. It's bad, y'all. It's so sad, because he's in a lot of pain. It seriously sucks right now.) And CN is not going to want to move anywhere if his dad stays like this for any length of time. (Which is fine and I totally understand and wouldn't expect him to move under those circumstances anyway. It's just another piece to the puzzle -- if he is planning on moving later, should I get a bigger apartment in anticipation??)

8. I can't tell my boss I am quitting until they finish my background check (no, I have nothing to hide, but it's just a good idea to make sure I'm cleared before I go blabbing about it). Hopefully they will finish it before I would need to give my 2 weeks' notice. *crosses fingers*

9. And did I mention that I am not really getting a raise? On paper, I am. But because of the higher cost-of-living for Savannah, my quality of life will stay pretty much the same.

I have 21 days to figure all this crap out. So if you don't hear from me a whole lot over the next month or so, that's why. But I'm sure I'll be stressed and will need to vent, so stay tuned.

I am a giant ball of anxiety right now. I am not sleeping and food disgusts me. I could totally barf on command, thanks to all the butterflies and stress knots in my tummy. The upside to all of this is that it's the best diet ever. I have zero interest in eating!

I will turn 30 in the town I want to live in. Cool. My first day will be the Monday before my birthday. :)

Classic VB Moment

Last Friday, things were pretty slow at work. A coworker and I were just messing around on the internet, and ended up looking at a photo of a topless woman. (No, I am not telling you what we were looking at, but it was NOT porn. I know you don't believe me, but oh well.)

My coworker pointed at the photo and said, "Look at that. Do you think they airbrushed her nipples out?"

Without skipping a beat, I replied, "Oh no. My nipples look just like that in photos."

*I realize what I just said, only too late.*

*awkward silence*

And then we both burst out laughing.

Good Things Come in 3s

1. Last night, I went to the gym, even though it was freezing. I needed to go for a run. My gym has set all the treadmills to stop after 30 minutes, in order to prevent people from hogging them for hours on end. The other day, I found one that is actually set for an hour. To challenge myself, I decided that since I didn't have my usual time restrictions (I can run only a little over 2 miles in a half an hour. Yes, I know I am a slow runner. Shut up.), I would just start running and see what happened. I decided to just run as long as I could.

Forty-five minutes later, I was STILL RUNNING.

I ran almost 4 miles. I still can't believe it. I haven't run that far since I was 13. The crappy part was that I would have kept going, but I was seriously dying of thirst and getting bored! And I didn't have any pain in my shins or my knees or anything. It was frickin AWESOME. The first mile didn't even feel like anything. It was so easy.

At one point, a guy got on the treadmill next to me, and he started running. I was still running when he stopped running. I LOVE it when that happens. I'm a little competitive like that, I guess.

I have no idea how many stars had to align in the sky in order for this to happen, but I really hope it happens again. I felt like a rock star.

2. I got up early this morning and hit the gym again, this time to do a weight lifting class. So that was 2 work outs in 12 hours. I was pretty stoked about that.

Anyway, after the gym, I went to the store where CN bought that awesome water bottle for me. I told the manager my story and asked if he would order some more bottles for me. I told him the make and model of the bottle, and he said he knew exactly what bottle I was referring to. Then he told me it would be no problem at all for him to order some of them. And he was super duper nice about it!!! YESSSS!!! This is awesome.

They will be on the shelves on Sunday! Yippee!!!! Publix is the best store EVER!!!

3. Is sort of a secret. And it might not happen. I mean, things look good, but I don't want to count my chickens. Just let me say that if it happens, it will be BIG news. I won't spill the beans here, but if you email me and ask nicely, I might tell you. :)

A Victory and a Mystery

I almost took that last post down. I got home that day and thought, "I can't believe I just wrote a post about a stupid lost water bottle. My blog has reached a new low."

But then you guys had such great ideas!!! My readers are so helpful! Thanks, everybody. I think I might order one of the Rose Parade ones...or whatever that was. I'm also going to go back to the store where CN bought it and plead with the manager to carry them again. It's worth a shot.

Besides, as you will soon see, THIS is the post which will take my blog to new lows.

I had a small victory this morning when getting ready for work. My 2 weeks of diet and exercise were all worth it when I put on a pair of jeans I could not wear a month ago! YAY!!! Go me! Little things like that really keep me motivated to continue. Because let me tell ya, I am having a hard time cutting out all the sweets I normally eat. I am trying to be more aware of what I'm eating, because I find that when I'm not actively thinking about what goes in my mouth, I usually eat too much or a bunch of crap. And I'm really pushing myself at the gym -- I ran about 3 miles the other day, which is something I haven't done since I was a teenager. I was really proud of that. I am not quite sure how much I've lost, but it's about 2-4 pounds. Definitely a step in the right direction!!!

As you can probably tell, I don't have a ton of things going on right now. But I did experience something totally disgusting yesterday. So if you're eating while reading, I suggest you stop. Also, don't read this before lunch or anything, because it just about killed my lunch appetite yesterday.

I tell people all the time, "I can't believe CN puts up with me." This statement is usually met with amazement, as most people don't know how weird and/or stupid I can be at times. Allow me to enlighten you, dear readers.

I was walking Sammy, just like I always do on my lunch break. I take him down our street and go behind our little neighborhood. It's basically an empty lot behind our street, so he is free to be a dog back there. There's a little clearing where Sammy likes to do #2. I was walking him back there, when I saw it: a piece of clothing on the ground.

"Hmm, that wasn't here when I walked Sammy this morning," I thought.

Then I realized this meant that our resident homeless guy was probably back. He comes and goes, but we always know when he's around because one of us will spot him or there will suddenly be a lot of trash in the empty lot. Which makes sense -- it's not like he has access to a trashcan. He hangs out in the woods beyond the empty lot. My elderly neighbors and CN tell me not to go behind our street during these times, but I think he's harmless, so I just don't go as far back as I normally would, just to be safe. If he wanted to do something, he would have done it by now-- asked for food or money. I think he just wants to be left alone, because I've never even laid eyes on the guy. I try to have sympathy for people in unfortunate circumstances like that. I don't want to just jump to stereotypes, because I think a lot of homeless people are addicts, mentally ill or just down on their luck-- they have real problems. I believe most homeless people mean no harm at all, and are usually just misunderstood. I don't like it when people assume they are criminals or evil. That's just not fair. It's only out of sheer luck that I'm not one of them, so I try to keep that in mind.

As Sammy is sniffing around and marking his territory, I am studying the piece of clothing. What is odd to me is that it looks like it has been ripped off of someone's body. It was just thrown on the ground, and I didn't want to touch it, so it was kind of difficult to tell what it was exactly. Nearby, I saw a (presumably) empty box of cigarettes.

And something else.

Oh. My. Is that....what I think it is??? Because if it is, that is....totally effing disgusting. Dear God!

Out of shock, I backed away from it and turned around and went back home, much to the irritation of Sammy, who possesses what must be an endless supply of pee.

I decided to get CN and take him with me to look at it again. I needed a second opinion. So after work, I hurried home before the sun set to drag him with me. "What is it?" he asked.

"Just come here. I want to show it to you. I'm not sure what it is," I replied.

I took him to the back lot, over to the little clearing where Sammy usually does his business. I pointed. "Is that what I think that is?" I asked. "Because if it is, that is totally incredible and disgusting. I mean, look at it! It's massive. And in one straight piece. I've never seen anything like it!"

"I can't believe you made me stop working to come over here and look at a giant piece of shit, VB," CN said.

"So it is shit, then?" I asked, stupidly. "Because I wasn't totally sure if it was human or not. It could be from a big dog. A really big dog. I thought maybe it was some kind of food or something. You know, all that rain we had, I thought maybe it was dissolving food that just looked like shit," I continued.

"I can't believe you. I'm going back inside. This is ridiculous," he said, turning around to leave.

"No! Wait! Do you think it's from the homeless guy?" I asked, grabbing his arm.

"Of course it's from the homeless guy!" he said, frustrated. "I mean, look -- that's his underwear right there!" CN pointed to the mysterious article of clothing I'd spotted earlier. Aha! It was a pair of ripped boxers! Mystery solved.

"But it looks like he literally ripped it off his body," I said.

"Well, by the looks of it, I don't think he had a lot of time to waste," CN chuckled.

"No kidding. I've never seen anything like it! I'm going to go get the camera and take a picture of it," I said.

CN promptly talked me out of this idea. But I do kind of wish I could share it with you. It was at least a foot long. And in a perfect line, not in a pile like you'd think it would be. Which makes me wonder if he sort of walked it out, if you get what I'm saying. Too graphic? If so, I apologize. But this was one amazing turd, y'all. And really, he was not far at all from some of my neighbors' windows. Someone could have easily seen him squatting. But come to think of it, that supports CN's theory that this guy didn't have time to waste.

And the other discarded things sort of tell a story. I bet he had a nice smoke, and then thought, "Uh. Oh." He was in such a hurry, he had to literally rip his clothes off before it was too late. WOW.

I continued rambling on about The Amazing Poo, and CN reprimanded me: "Look, keep it down. I'm sure he doesn't want us standing around, talking about his poo. He's probably watching us right now. Listen, I don't want you coming back here anymore, do you understand?"

I nodded, staring at my feet and feeling ashamed.

As if being homeless isn't enough, this guy has to deal with strangers discussing his poos.

But it is a pretty impressive turd.

The $300 Water Bottle

I am nothing if not determined. And patient. And thorough.

Y'all would die laughing if you knew how I spend my time on some days. I can spend a week looking for a song I heard. Once, I spent a week looking for a friend of mine from childhood, Tori Condorodis. (Tori, if you are reading this, I have been looking for your ass for years, girl! YEARS!) I have stubbornly hunted down lyrics, book titles, SNL skits, the cheapest airline tickets, historical facts, urban legends, etymology tidbits, untold unusual items on eBay, the perfect paint color for my bathroom and recipes for coconut cheesecake. And then there's the whole genealogy thing I've been on for the past few months. That's an entirely different story!

It's only made worse by the fact that I'm a professional librarian, because not only do I know where to go and how to search for something, I am also trained to be resourceful and think of other ways to find whatever it is I'm looking for when I hit a stumbling block.

And today, I have hit a big one. So I am taking a break from my searching before I scream and pull out my hair so that I may vent here.

A little back story for you. Right when we first started dating, I mentioned to CN how much I disliked most re-usable water bottles on the market. I don't like the ones with the straws, because the straws are too difficult to clean, and sometimes they fall off the lid, which causes you to stop what you're doing, unscrew the lid and stick the straw back in. I hate the ones you squeeze, because I somehow either end up choking on the water or spilling it everywhere. I don't like the ones where you have to unscrew a top to get to the water. And all the other ones I've tried are poorly made, and break too easily. Or they are too tall to fit into the dishwasher. I just got a new one, and it is horrid -- it leaks EVERYWHERE. I have been on a quest for a great water bottle for years, people. YEARS. On the top shelf of my kitchen cupboard resides a graveyard of discarded water bottles that didn't make the cut.

One day a few weeks later, CN came over and told me he had gotten me something. This is one of my favorite things he says, so he had my undivided attention. From behind his back, he pulled out a large, green water bottle.

It.

Was.

Perfect.

High quality plastic, a beautiful green color, large enough to hold enough water for a long workout, a little plastic ring to make it easy to carry...and the best part of all: a GENIUS lid. All you do is push this little button, and the top flips up to reveal an ergonomical spout from which to drink your water -- no squeezy thing, no straws. When closed, the lid protects the spout and the water from germs, dirt and debris. Which was a feature I hadn't even thought of, but instantly loved.

"And it's dishwasher safe," CN explained proudly.

I may have fallen in love with him right at that moment.

Do you see where this is going? Yeah. About a month or so ago, I lost it. I cannot find it anywhere, not even in my car, which is where my lost things usually end up. The last time I remember having it, I was finishing up a workout with my trainer. Despite my repeated pleadings with the gym staff to search in the lost and found "just one more time, please", it has not turned up. The gym staff thinks I am a psycho, because I come up to the desk once a week, frantically searching for a stupid $5 water bottle, but I don't care. I am lost without it. I regret that I never truly appreciated the water bottle until I lost it. It was always my favorite, mostly because CN gave it to me, but now I appreciate it for its impeccable design.

My first instinct was to ask my trainer if he'd picked it up for me. No dice. (He also looked at me like I was a little crazy.) Since then, I have scanned the gym every time I am there, looking for the bastard who ganked my bottle. I know what happened. I left it sitting on a bench while I dug for my keys, and then I just left it there when I walked out. Someone with a good eye for a perfect water bottle came along and decided to just keep it. Which is really stealing, in essence. A responsible person, like yours truly, returns things to the front desk. (I found a watch once, and a wallet -- I promptly turned them in to the staff. You'd think karma would pay me back for that!!!)

But one day, they will screw up. I know it. Right now, they are laying low, hiding out with my water bottle. They probably only use it at home or at work. They are too afraid to return to the scene of the crime with it. But one day.....one day....They will forget that they stole it, and bring it to the gym, where I will see them using it, and confront them, probably with much hostility. And possible bloodshed. *In Arnold Schwarzenegger voice* I will get it back.

This is what I get for not appreciating my bottle!! It has been taken away from me!! And given to someone else who loves it, probably as much as I do!! And I cannot even bear to tell CN that I lost it. It is my dirty little secret I am keeping from him. I am ashamed of myself. One of the best things he ever gave me, and I carelessly leave it laying around for someone who is too cheap to go buy his own water bottle.

Just to rub salt into the wound, that bitch Karma has ensured that I will never be able to get a water bottle like that again. The store where CN got it no longer sells them. Which prompted me to go on a searching binge to buy one online. "Oh, one little trip over to Amazon.com will take care of that," I thought.

Not so fast, VB. Amazon only sells your average, flawed water bottles. So does Target. And Walmart. And Dick's Sporting Goods. And the camping supply store in town. And all the grocery stores (yes, I have visited just about every one in town). Buying one off of eBay just doesn't sound like a good idea. Who knows where the water bottle has been??

An intensive, hours-long Internet search led me to -- JOY!! -- a website selling the same bottle, but with a company logo on it. Logo, schmogo -- I wanted my water bottle NOW! Who cares if it promotes a company? I click "Buy" and...

"This item is no longer available."

Are you freaking kidding me.

I went back to the drawing board. Eventually, I managed to find out the make and model of the water bottle. (Yes, it's like a car. This is the Cadillac of water bottles, I'm telling you.) Now, I have something to work with!! Surely, some retailer sells these little buggers online! I did a search for the make and model. A bazillion hits. Jackpot!!!!

Upon further inspection, I realize that Little Miss Karma is a sick, evil and twisted little bitch: the bottles are only sold through those business promotions companies, you know, the places where you go to get your company logo put onto 450 coffee cups or 1600 ballpoint pens.

In my frenzied state of desperation, I almost went for it: "Ok, let's see. I can get 36 of them for $7.19 each...plus a $50 flat rate for the order set-up....which comes out to....$308.84. Plus shipping. Hmmm. Maybe I can get an Indiana University logo on it...or a cute message, and then I can give them out as gifts! Yeah!"

When reality set back in, I realized this was far too much to spend on water bottles. Worse yet, my friends would hate me for giving them a stupid water bottle every year for their birthdays. "But check out the lid! It flips! Isn't that awesome? This year, I decided to give you a purple one!" I would say.

*sigh*

So, my search continues. But if you are one of those people who orders the little freebies with the company logo imprinted on them, will you please get your logo put onto H2Go's Zuma water bottle?? I'll take any color. I'll buy 10 from you. And I will I verbally promote your business until the cows come home! I promise!

And if you happen to see one of my beloved Zuma water bottles for sale at your local store, please buy me 3 of them. Trust me, I will make it worth your time! Here's a photo, which can be easily printed out and carried in your wallet for reference purposes:

Happy New Year!!

Ok, so I am blogging from CN's computer while he's busy watching the Falcons game. They are in the playoffs, and I can hear a lot of cursing coming from his living room. :)

When the commercials come on, he gets up to pee and give me a kiss. It's pretty cute. He just walked in here to ask me if I like his wiener or not. What a dork.

Anyway, just wanted to write a short blog post to update y'all on stuff. Since I get almost 3 weeks off from work during the holidays, it's hard for me to get to a computer. CN's letting me use his. Although I doubt he knows I'm blogging right now....

Thank you, everyone who commented on my last post. It was a very painful post to write, so I appreciate the sympathy and empathy. And I don't always feel like that about my mom, it's just that she and I go through phases. We are currently in one of those phases where I seriously cannot stand her. She's not a horrible person, we just bash heads sometimes. She does it all (mostly, I think, anyway) from love and out of worry for me. It's just the methods she chooses that irk me. I really have to start letting it roll off my back, because she's never going to change. So I have to just change the way I react to her. And THB, I didn't take down your 2nd comment, even though it was a repeat, because I read it twice. It was that good! So I think it deserves to be said twice!! But seriously, my readers are the best. All of your comments made me feel so much better. It was definitely an "I love blogging, because blog readers are the best!!!" moment. :)

Going home to visit The Czarina went very well this year. WHEW. I credit Fat Dog's new girlfriend with my mother's MUCH improved behavior. I think that is the key to surviving visits with her -- bring an outsider. It keeps her on good behavior. As an added bonus, I really like Fat Dog's girlfriend. She is teeny tiny and very nice. She's totally his type -- petite, athletic, brunette who doesn't wear a lot of makeup. They are really cute together.

I got KICK ASS presents this year!!! Best Buy (hell-O ipod!!!) gift card from CN and a Lowe's gift card from Fat Dog, plus a beautiful --

DAMMIT, CN!!! STOP CHASING SAMMY AND MAKING ALL THAT NOISE!!!!!

ok, sorry about that. I swear, I am dating a 12 year old.....

Where was I? Oh, yes, CN got my that gorgeous wallet I wanted. I also got some jewelry, DVDs, potpourri, a frog tape dispenser, JP gave me a French press for coffee (although I have no idea how to use it!) and MJ gave me some Christmas decorations (because I never buy any and she thinks this is horrible) and an herb garden. Sammy got a big container of gourmet dog cookies.

And The Czarina gave me a big, phat check made out to Capital One -- that was her present to me. Along with the jewelry and the tape dispenser. It's a pretty sweet present, because she knows how much I want to pay off my Visa. I gotta give the Mom some props on that one.

And for the last week, I have been cooking, cleaning, organizing and decorating. I love working on a college student's schedule. One of the best things about my job. My house is super clean and neatly organized, and I have finished a LOT of projects I've been putting off. Soon, I will start painting E's old bedroom and the bathroom and hang up some curtains. Unfortunately, that's just about all the decorating I will be able to do for a while, since I need to focus on the credit card debt.

I'm trying to decide if I want to get a part time job or not. I really should, for the extra money and debt-paying purposes, especially since I won't have a roommate anymore. But I am ULTRA motivated to lose some weight, a part time job would really impact my gym time. I have worked out 6 days in a row, and yesterday I ran for 33 minutes straight -- a feat I have not achieved since I was in college!! GO ME!!!

I'm not doing too badly at the dieting thing, either. Not perfect, but at least conscious and aware of what goes in my mouth. I am trying not to bring junk into the house, which helps a LOT.

Although my whole body is a little sore, I am in a great mood, sleeping like a rock and have noticed how much energy I have. I think my tummy's a little flatter, but it may just be my imagination. It feels great to be getting back in shape. I hope I can keep this up. So far, so good on my New Year's Resolution.

Everyone is doing great -- CN's dad is still hanging in there, MJ and JP are doing well. Except that one of MJ's dogs died. :( And CN is wonderful, as usual.

When I'm done with my decorating, I will take some pics of my house and share with you. I have done a lot since the last time I shared pics.

Sorry this post is kind of random! I'm in a hurry and have some stuff I want to do before CN and I head out to go bowling. I'll try and catch up on everyone's blogs as soon as I can.

Happy New Year!!!

Why I Only Visit Twice a Year

Many of you are looking forward to going home to see your family during the holidays. But some of us dread the holidays. Every trip there reminds us why we moved so far away to begin with. And why we only visit twice a year. I am one of those people.

A lot of my friends, who have never met my mom, have a difficult time understanding why I say I sometimes don't like her very much. If you were to meet my mom, you would think she was a very friendly, thoughtful, fun and supportive mother. The first time CN observed me talking to her on the phone, he thought she was really nice. (He could hear what she was saying, because he was sitting next to me.) "I don't know what you're talking about! Your mom is really supportive!" he said. Gradually, as I have started to tell him the stories and the crazy things she's said to me, he's starting to see where I'm coming from.

When he came up with me last summer, she was also putting on her "nice" face. She's always nice when there's someone outside of our family nearby. That's why I like bringing friends home with me and going shopping with her -- she isn't mean to me in those situations. But when outsiders aren't around, she has a tendency to hurt my feelings. A lot.

The first thing she says to me when I get to her house is, "Well, you look like you haven't lost any weight." Not "I missed you!" or "It's good to see you!" Or even "How was your drive?" Nope. It's a perfect opportunity to make a comment about how I am too fat for her liking. This is how she likes to start off the visit. Gee, it's great to see you, too, Mom. So glad I just drove 6 hours to hear you say that, I think to myself. So I step out of the car, and am instantly on the defensive. God forbid she just be nice. As much as this bothers me, I do have a large amount of respect for my mom, and I was raised not to sass, so I have to just take it. What I'd really like to do is retort, "Gosh, and you're looking so old!!"

When I get inside, I will inevitably remember that she doesn't keep any food in the house anymore, because unlike me, her world "doesn't revolve around food." She doesn't really cook anymore, which I understand, because it's just her and my little sister. So I usually have to get back in my car and drive a half hour to the store to get something to eat. Despite the fact that she knows I don't like eggs for breakfast and I can't stand salad, this is all she ever has to eat at the house. Coincidence?

When I get back from the store, if I'm lucky, she won't see me putting the food away. If she does see me, I get to listen to her criticize my decisions. Later, if she sees me eating something she doesn't approve of, she will take it away from me. Yup, you read that correctly. Snatch it right out of my hands. I am 3 when I am at her house. This is the sort of thing that happens incessantly when I'm home. I could be anorexic, snorting coke, fired from my job and crying myself to sleep every night, but as long as I am thin, that's all she cares about. She never cares if I'm happy. Just that I'm thin.

Anyway, after that, I will clean the kitchen, change the sheets on the bed and clean the bathroom. Then, I will put up the Christmas tree, decorate it and then cook dinner.

Now, I'm not trying to sound like an ungrateful daughter, because I do think I should help out while I'm there, and I don't mind doing the Christmas tree stuff or the cooking. By no means do I expect a red carpet to be rolled out for me when I get there, but dammit, can I feel a tiny bit less like a maid and a little more like a houseguest??? (In her defense, cleaning the kitchen and the bathroom are more my idea than hers, but that's because they are always filthy and I can't use them until they are cleaned up, because it bugs me when they are dirty.) I mean, if she could just put some damn towels out for me, it would be nice. Or even actually be there when I arrive. (Sometimes she's not even home when I get there, which makes me feel like crap.)

Great holiday vacation so far, huh?

At some point during the visit, I will get a big, fat lecture. If it had an official title, it would be: "Let me tell you how you are f***ing up your life". It could be a lecture about how fat I am, how I am not good with money, how I am messing up my love life by not remaining a virgin, how badly I need to get a new job or all of the above. I know I'm not unique in receiving these lectures. Lots of moms give these lectures. I just wish she'd realize that I'm almost 30, so I have heard them each a billion times. At this point, I'm pretty numb to them. I just wish she'd leave me alone and let me get back to whatever it was I was doing when she decided it was Lecture Time.

She wants to give me a new one, I can tell. She wants to tell me she doesn't like CN and thinks I can do better. I know she thinks this. The other day, she said to me, "Well, just know that if you two get serious.....you have my blessing. I think he's a very nice boy." (This translates to: He is not good enough for you. I wish you would dump him, because I think you are dating beneath yourself.) But she knows that saying that would piss me off, so she hasn't said anything. Yet. Getting serious with CN really bothers her for 2 reasons: She had no role in picking him out for me. (She would like nothing better than to set me up with some Tucker Carlson-type guy. She is a total control freak and always thinks that she knows better than I do about what makes me happy.) And also, it disproves one of her theories: No one will want to marry me if I don't lose some weight. So I know it bugs her. I know she wants to say it.

At another point in the visit, she will "forget" that Sammy likes to wander away when left to his own devices in the outdoors. This makes me panic, because I can't find him. When I realize that she is the one who "accidentally" let him out, it makes me furious. If I say anything to her, she will say, "Dogs belong outside, anyway."

This year will probably be a little different. I'm pretty sure we will have a HUGE, screaming fight. Which sucks, because it's Christmas. But right now, I am pretty hurt by one of her most recent emails. It's been about a week since she sent it to me, but I can't shake it. Which means I will still be upset about it when I go home next week. I am not very good at pretending like nothing is bothering me, which means I will say something about it. Because I have a big mouth. And I already resent her for all the other reasons I've just mentioned.

Ok, remember how I am painting my bathroom? I'm looking for the right shade of dark, purply-blue. With hot pink accents, white trim and lots of silvery, mirrored accessories. I was describing my decorating plans in an email to my mom a few days ago. Home decorating is a pretty safe, neutral topic for us to discuss. Or so I thought.

Her reply? (And I quote!) "It will look like a 1920s whore's bathroom! Love it! -- Mom"

Now, wtf is that supposed to mean? Aside from all of my mother/daughter issues, it doesn't even make any sense. Do prostitutes have a particular interior decorating preference? And if they do, how does she know what it is? Not only that, but when was the last time you ever heard someone describe a room as "whoreish"? That's not even a decorating style! It has no meaning! Unless I said I was going to use a pimp cup for a soap dish, I fail to see what reminds her of a whore house!

If you include my mother/daughter issues, there's a WHOLE other side to this email. Let me explain. According to my mother, if you have sex before marriage, you are a whore. Plain and simple. I know this is what she thinks, because when her friends' daughters have shotgun weddings or babies out of wedlock, she calls them whores. Not to their face, of course. She is not stupid as to why I am on birth control. So it's safe to assume she thinks I am also a whore. And yes, she uses that word. She is not one to sugar coat things. (I personally think she's probably being hypocritical about the whole thing, because she spent her 20s in an alcoholic stupor, passing out every weekend, so who KNOWS what she did when she was my age.)

Of course, she is not so rude as to come out and call me a whore. That would be mean and hurtful and judgemental. She will deny that she is like that until the day she dies. No, no. She phrases things in a confusing way so that she can get away with sort-of calling me a whore. Then she tacks on the "Love it!" to make it sound like she likes it, so she can confuse me. That way, I can't accuse her of actually meaning it. "But I like it! That's what I said!" she would say, if I brought it up. If I kept pressing the issue, refusing to believe that she didn't mean any harm, she will blow me off and refuse to talk about it anymore, claiming I am being too defensive or sensitive.

Which may be true. But really, when someone treats you the way that she does, can you blame me??? I think I have made a pretty good case against her behavior and how it makes me feel.

I cannot think of any other explanation for her choice of words. I mean, why would you EVER say that? Over email, no less, which she must realize has a higher chance of misinterpretation.

It used to be different, when my dad was still alive. He would call her out on stuff and tell her to knock it off. He understood where I was coming from. But now that dad's gone, there's no one to stick up for me. It's getting worse every year. My brother, Fat Dog, tries to stick up for me, but he doesn't understand why I can't just let it roll off my back. She treats my little sister the same way. Smurf must REALLY get it because it's just her and Mom most of the time. And she's only 16. She's not old enough to really see how Mom is or understand that Mom's not always right and you don't have to blindly do what she says or accept her behavior. At least at my age, I can see what she's doing. And I can move away and avoid her. Smurf doesn't have that ability.

Although I know what's going on and I am getting better about just ignoring her behavior, I don't know what exactly I can do to improve my relationship with my mom. I don't talk about it a whole lot, but it's been getting really bad lately. I know you are all like, "Talk to her!" "Write her an email explaining everything!" but it doesn't work like that. When you are dealing with a controlling and snarky person who NEVER admits that they have any bad intentions, it's impossible to get through to them. Accusing her of being cruel to me or hurting my feelings will only cause her to tell me to stop whining and being so sensitive. She will deny everything and tell me I'm misunderstanding her. And if I get her really riled up, she will get all drama-queen on me and say things like, "Well, if you really feel that way, I guess we just should never speak again!" and leave the room, which leaves me with a huge guilt trip. I mean, how the hell do you deal with someone like that???? That's not what I want! I love my mom. I just wish she would be nicer to me. For some reason, that is a lot to ask from her. I don't know what to do, so I usually just take it and never say anything. But it's building a LOT of anger and resentment inside me. And as a financially independent adult who lives 2 states away, I have the option of cutting her out of my life. Lately, I'm really liking this idea, because all she does is make me feel bad about myself. She only brings stress to my life.

I have gradually scaled back the number of visits I make to see her. I used to come up about 4 times a year. Now it's 2. I'm thinking about cutting it back to one. Or none. As sad as it is to say, I am considering not having a relationship with my mom at all. At this point, I only go home at Christmas to see my siblings. If I had my wish, she would not even be there.

I am not perfect. I make bad decisions sometimes. I know I'm sensitive. I know I need to lose weight. I know I am defensive. And she may not have meant anything in that email. But I can't ignore how she continuously makes me feel like a loser and hurts my feelings. You can't help how you feel. It just frustrates me, because she sort of robs me from expressing them. She's so caught up in proving that she's right all the time, and trying to control all my decisions, she doesn't even see how it's affecting our relationship. If I told her all of this, she would die of shock!

Thanks for letting me vent. Apparently, I didn't get it all out last night when I poured my heart out to CN and cried all my makeup off! It's really hard for me to talk about this, because it's really painful and personal. As much of an open book as I am, it is really hard for me to talk about this, even though I don't know most of you. I'm feeling a little vulnerable right now. But I'm like a volcano. I have been holding it in for so long. I just can't do it anymore. Sorry if I bummed any of you out. What's funny is that today is her birthday, and I feel really guilty for saying all this about her, even though she doesn't know I'm doing it!

Red & Green

Today, they are not only Christmas colors, but also relevant to my life.

Red -- the color of my left eye. No, I do not have pinkeye. I think I have burst some blood vessels, because I have no change in vision, pain, itching, swelling or eye crusties. And it's not getting worse or spreading. Just one half of one eye, red. Just hanging out. Every time I look in the mirror, it says to me, "Hi! Yup. Still here. Making you look like you're sick, tired, high or otherwise not a good person to stand next to! Enjoy wearing your glasses!" I'm pretty sure it's just some irritated/burst blood vessels. Which, according to my casual internet research, can happen from something as simple as a sneeze, violent coughing or vomiting. It probably happened on Tuesday night, after I barfed on the way home from the gym.

Math moment:

Lazy attitude towards exercise
random, intense trainer workout at gym
+ genetic predisposition for sensitive stomach
---------------------------------------
barfing in a parking lot.

Luckily, I picked a vacant office building parking lot, so no one had to stumble upon my barf upon arriving at work the next morning. WHEW.

Anyway, WebMD says that it should get better on its own, gradually, over the next 2 weeks. If not, it's time to see a doctor. I'm not wearing my contacts as a precaution. I'm now wearing my glasses until further notice. Which I hate doing. Oh well.

Trivia fact for you: Despite my fairly frequent and unpredictable barfing spells, CN has yet to witness me barf. He didn't know that I barfed throughout our first date until weeks later when I told him. Yeah, I'm a pro. Don't hate.

Green -- As in, the color of money. Luckily, it's not my money I am referring to.

CN has a company car, which is great. He doesn't have to pay a dime out of pocket for anything car-related, including gas. Don't you just hate him? I know, me too. Because it's not his car, he has to take it to company-approved mechanics, because they have special agreements worked out with them. One of these companies is Jiffy Lube. Or, as I like to call it, Stiffy Rube. Because they are full of idiots who rip you off. Or idiots who make you take it up the ass. I will let you choose your own definition, depending on your level of pervertedness.

Hopefully, I am not offending any of you by saying this, but in my experience, Jiffy Lube hires only the most supreme morons of America. Their last straw with me was when I got an oil change, and they forgot to put the cap back on. During my drive from NC to Virginia, I started noticing something leaking from the engine up to my windshield. When my wipers failed to remove it, I pulled over to find a coating of motor oil all over my car. It was also all over my engine, and it was beginning to burn, which if you have never smelled, is not exactly anything close to Chanel No. 5. I still had about 3 hours of travel time left, and had to just deal with it until I got to The Czarina's and pay $100 to have my engine power washed. Grrrrr...

Anyway, despite my Tales of Horror and Warning Concerning Jiffy Lube, CN always gets his oil changed there -- it's one of the company approved places. It's right by our house and one of his favorite dive bars. He usually goes to the bar for a beer and pizza or to watch a game while he waits. This is what he did on Friday afternoon.

While he was enjoying his beer and pizza, the friggin idiots over at Jiffy Lube were getting a lesson in car lifts: DO NOT lift a car by anything other than pre-approved, sturdy areas of the under carriage. This is because the other areas are not meant to bear the weight of a vehicle, you frigging numb nuts who apparently flunked out of mechanic school.

When CN picked up his car, they inform him that they "had some difficulty" in removing the tires (I think he got a tire rotation, too) and didn't rotate them because of that. CN was like, "Ok, whatever," and proceeded to get into the car to get it back home. One the way home, he realizes that something is very wrong. Despite normal steering activity and decision-making skills on the part of the driver, the car wants to turn sideways, especially when the brake is applied. You can imagine how fun this is when you approach a stoplight, or say, oncoming traffic. It gives bumper cars a whole new meaning. At worst, you could die in a T-Bone collision. At best, you look like you're doing some pretty cool 180s. In traffic.

So, to sum up, Jiffy Lube is full of dipshits who are taking *no* responsibility for this, CN's car is now at a better mechanic, getting worked on. But it's so jacked up that he may actually end up getting a new company car. THAT is how much they jacked up his car. (His car is only a year old.)

While it's no skin off his nose, because he doesn't have to pay for it, CN is finally hating JackAss Lube as much as I am. File this under: "I Told You So".

Ok, I will share The Czarina's latest exploit with you in the next post. Promise. It's time to go home, and that is a post which will take some careful wording.

2nd Post for Today -- I Need Your Help!

CN has a super good idea for what to get for his mom for Christmas. She has a new dishwasher, but hasn't actually hooked it up yet, due to her being so busy with stuff. So he's going to pay for a guy to go over to her house and hook it up for her. I think this is a super awesome idea, because she would never get around to it, and even if she did, she would probably talk herself out of paying for it, especially now that she lost her job. You see, the poor woman has never had a dishwasher, so she's already so used to washing it all by hand, anyway. (I really need to tell y'all about her kitchen issues...remind me.)

I'm getting off-track.

As awesome of an idea as this is, and as easily as the idea occurred to him, he is totally baffled as to what to get for his dad. And I am no help. What do you get for a guy who is too weak to get out of bed? He can't hold anything in his hands, because his nerve endings are all shot. All he does is eat, sleep and watch TV. He's too sick and tired to do anything else. Now that hospice is involved, we know he doesn't have a lot of time left. And CN already got him a bunch of DVDs for his birthday.

So we are stumped.

I have looked on the internet for ideas, and a lot of people say it's good to give terminally ill people sentimental things, like photo albums. Other people suggest everyone write down what the person means to them and tell them what you would normally not say until you're at their funeral. Most people recommend "just quality time to talk to them and tell them how much you love them".

Well, CN's family isn't very sentimental or touchy-feely. That would just be weird and awkward. So that sort of thing is out. Which I'm kind of glad about, because watching that go down would be so depressing and it would probably make CN's mom cry. Which would make me cry. Which would be a really sucky Christmas.

I was thinking maybe some gourmet food would be good, or just a bunch of homemade yummies, like cookies or snacks. That's about all the enjoyment he has left now.

Can anyone think of anything better than that?

Ugh. I am depressed now, just thinking about this. I remember the last Christmas we had with my dad. We had Christmas in the hospital. It was the most depressing day of my life. In a lot of ways, it was worse than his funeral. Because if you are too sick to be home for Christmas, you are really sick. Like, dying sick. And all the nurses look at you with pity, because they know what's coming. It sucks.

On that note, if you know anyone who is in the hospital during the holidays, please visit them. It is miserable to be there at that time, even if it's not a serious illness.

Crap. This post is really sad. Sorry, guys. Read the next one (the one from earlier today). It's more upbeat.

Tomorrow will be good and bitchy! My mom really pissed me off this week, so I have lots to vent about! Stay tuned!

All I Want for Christmas

...is for people to just get me what I ask for.

CN and MJ have both asked for ideas about what to get me for Christmas.

So I rattle off my list:

*a gift certificate to one of the following places:

-- Best Buy (I want to get a big, fat iPod)
-- Lowe's or Home Depot
-- Z Gallerie (LOVE their stuff)
-- Bed, Bath & Beyond
-- Victoria's Secret (I need new bras)

*Christmas decorations (I will never buy them myself! Not when I could buy more shoes! Duh!)

* Jewelry from Banana Republic (I adore about 95% of all their jewelry) or this one line at Dillard's that I like

* this kick ass wallet I want in my favorite color (it is more money than I'd spend on myself)

* anything related to Indiana University (tshirts, sweatshirts, etc)

* some of my favorite coffee from Jittery Joe's (again, I would never spend this much on coffee for myself)

MJ's response?

"Those are all lame. I will come up with something better."

CN's response?

"MJ's right. You have totally lame ideas."

WTF, people??! Last time I checked, I think I know what I want for Christmas.

Maybe they are just trying to trick me. Throw me off so I don't assume I'm getting something from my list.

Or maybe they are just hatin' because I finished the majority of my Christmas shopping before Thanksgiving. :)

Luckily, my siblings have no problem with my list. They are obedient givers, who appreciate the simplicity of what I ask for. So I am expecting lots of gift cards. Yippee!!!!

Whoever said it is better to give than to receive must have had friends who didn't accept their wishlist.

Determined to Decorate

Before I get into this post, I have a sad update for y'all. When CN and I went to his parents' house for Thanksgiving, we found out that CN's mom was laid off from her job. She works for a company that supplies automobile parts to Ford, so it was not a big shocker to hear that her employer was cutting back.

As crappy as this is, it isn't as bad as it could be. She still has benefits and they will pay her half her salary for 11 months. Supplemented with unemployment benefits, they will be fine, for the most part. The good news is, they have no debt -- their house is paid off, their cars are paid off and (like CN) they have no credit cards. So financially, it's not like they're up shit's creek. She's going to take care of her hubs for a while, and look for a job later.

One of the things that is actually good about all of this is that now CN's mom can stay home all day to take care of her husband. Until now, she has been paying through the nose for a nurse to stay with him all day. And CN's dad obviously likes this a lot better. So in one way, they will save money because of this.

I tell ya, this economy is starting to hit home, and it's kinda scary. It just really sucks to hear something like this happen to a family that already has a lot on their plate. I wish there was something I could do for them.

Alright, on to something cheerier.

When E moved out, I realized that I am too old and set in my ways to deal with having a roommate again. I don't care how wonderful they are, it's not worth the money. I do NOT want a roommate ever again. The way I look at it, this might be the last year I get to live alone in my own house (knock on wood!), so I want to enjoy it.

A good way for me to move on from the whole E situation and really get to feeling like my house is my house and no one else's is to decorate her old bedroom and bath so they can be livable and usable for me. Right now, I'm not really using them. They are both empty, blank canvases -- they are exactly as they were the day I moved in. So I am really excited to do something with them. I'm going to make them pretty girly, since that kind of decorating won't fly when I have to start accommodating my tastes for CN. He's not much for anything with ruffles, you know. So this is my last chance to live it up and do things my way. EEK! I can't wait!

I'm going to turn the bedroom into an office/guest bedroom combo. So that means I will need to buy a day bed or sleeper sofa. Something to that effect. CN had the brilliant idea (he is full of brilliant ideas) to have the day bed/sleeper sofa also serve as a reading spot for me -- so I will put some books and a reading lamp in there, too. As for the office aspect of it, I already have a desk I can use, so I just need something where I can store my various files and projects and office supplies.

I was originally going to do a black & white color palette, because I really like how graphic and bold those colors can be. Plus, it's easy to find a ton of things to decorate with -- black & white photography, for example. Everything goes with black and white! It's also gender-neutral, which is good for a guest bedroom. But then I realized that a black & white room will not mesh well with the rest of my house, which is full of calm, soothing pastel colors. It's really important to me for my house to flow from one room to the next. Since the bedroom opens into my icy blue living room, I think the starkness of black and white will look weird. So I have scrapped this idea.

I want the bedroom to feel serene, so that house guests can relax and so that I can read or focus on my little projects I'm always fooling with. A pastel palette will accomplish this, and it won't clash with the rest of my house. Then, I remembered an article I had read in a magazine that had gorgeous colors in it: pale aqua, light lime, dusty blueberry, lots of white and a deep violet-blue. Perfect! It's so me. So calming and refreshing. I love it! Here's a link to the article so you can see what I'm talking about. This will look much better next to my icy blue living room.

I want the bathroom, which pretty much serves as my guest bathroom, since it's off the living room and attached to this empty bedroom, to be very dramatic and glamorous. I'm going to paint the walls this color. Only darker -- like a purply-navy. A very deep, rich jewel tone (it will flow with the bedroom, because the same color will be the accent in the bedroom). Here's a virtual room I painted online, which shows you kind of how it will look:



This isn't exactly the color, but it's pretty close. There aren't any windows in the bathroom, but since I don't really use it, it's not like I have to worry about good lighting anyway. I'm planning on keeping the trim, shower curtain and towels white, so that should be enough to prevent it from looking like a cave. I'm going to play it up with mirrored/silver things and a splash of bright, rosy pink. Kind of a bubblegum/watermelon pink.

If you think this sounds gross, just trust me. I can picture it perfectly in my head. It will end up being the only dramatic/richly colored room in my house. Something a little different. The rest of my house is fairly pastel and calming. At the same time, the colors will mesh well with the rest of my house.

There are only 2 things stopping me from creating my two beautiful rooms:

1. I don't really have any money right now. It might have to wait until after the holidays. Bummer, right?
2. I am notorious for never finishing projects. And few things look stupider than a half-decorated room. I really have to make myself finish something, for once. Or at least get it functional.

This should be fun! I haven't really done a lot of decorating on my own before, so I'm pretty stoked. And CN and MJ are also excited, because this means I'm finally off my genealogy kick!

Familiarity Breeds Contempt, Part 2

Let's see, where were we? Oh, yes. I have my intervention talk with E.

I told her I do not understand why she doesn't move home, back to Minnesota. She misses her family so much. She's really close to them. She doesn't own a house, she hates her job anyway, she doesn't have any money...if I were in her shoes, I'd pack up and stay with my mom until I got my act together. Maybe go back to school. Away from all the bars. I told her I don't understand why she won't leave her job, where she is overworked and underpaid, and now working with her ex-boyfriend AND his entire family, who never liked her and are mean to her. I mean, there literally is no good reason to stay at that job. Everything is so obvious to me, but she just sort of agrees and then makes excuses for why she can't change anything in her life. None of her arguments have any merit. I swear, she is determined to stay miserable!

I almost laughed when she said, "You know, it's so funny that you are telling me all of this. Almost like an intervention. W even said the same thing to me the other day. She said, 'I feel like I need to stage an intervention with you, E.' Funny, right?"

I swear, there could be giant, flashing signs in front of her face, and she would not even see them.

If two people who know you well are both saying the same thing, what does that tell you???

I am pretty surprised W never told me what living with E was like. She never gave me a heads up or hinted at anything. So when E began to do things like sleepwalk and handwash the dishes in the middle of the night, in a totally dark kitchen, I had to figure things out by myself. And E's most recent ex, B, also never gave me any indication that he was dealing with the same kind of wackiness I was, although I'm sure he must have. I can only imagine the long list of crazy experiences we have witnessed individually. It is pretty amazing, though, that neither of them have ever approached me to talk about E's antics. I wonder if W and B just have more patience than I do. Or if they were both relieved that she was living with me instead of them, so they kept their mouths shut. Can't say that I blame them.

So back to the intervention conversation with E. As she went on about her problems, I began to understand what was really going on. After telling her how worried I was and how abnormal her behavior was, I told her that she might want to think about getting a shrink or some kind of professional help, in addition to rehab. She told me that she used to go to a shrink, but that she stopped going.

Knowing she has pretty good health insurance and loves nothing better than to whine about her problems, I asked her why.

"Because he told me I'm bi-polar, and I know that's not true."

OMG. Lightbulb. As soon as she said this, it all made sense! The insomnia, followed by sleeping straight for 3 days. The anti-depressants (to counter-act her "down") combined with the Adderol (to counter-act her mania). The impulse shopping. The sad, weepy days where she would be totally bummed. Followed by days where she was in a fantastic mood. Yet nothing in her life had even changed.

Being a librarian, I decided to do some research and looked in the DSM-IV, one of my favorite books ever, because you can diagnose your friends, your family and yourself with mental disorders (you think I'm joking, but I'm not. It really is fun. And we are ALL in there, trust me. I'm in there at least twice.). Well, it turns out that E could be the poster child for Bi-Polar Disorder.

Negative thinking that stops you from making decisions? Check.
Self-medication with alcohol? Check.
Loss of appetite? Check. (The girl never eats, I swear.)
Problems concentrating? Check.
Bouts of rage? Check. (She can blow up at the drop of a hat sometimes -- she's one of those girlfriends who makes a mountain out of a mole hill, a source of lots of relationship problems for her.)

At this point, there is very little doubt in my mind that E is bi-polar. But I also know she's in a deep denial about this, which is something no one can help her with. So as irritated as I am with her, I am also worried about her and feeling pity towards her. She is so unhappy. Her life is a trainwreck.

Now, I don't know if her bi-polar disorder is responsible for her need to re-organize all of her worldly posessions twice a week, or her obsessive stalking of her ex, or her abily to dwell on things until the cows come home. Or her innate ability to call me at the worst possible times. All I know is that she needs help. And that I'm glad she's out of my house.

Which are some pretty bad mixed feelings. I'm sitting at the intersection of Guilt Street and Annoyance Avenue, a very odd place to be. You see, I have so much pity for the girl. Her sister died at age 30 of breast cancer, and E was very close to her. E got tested and found out that she also has that breast cancer gene, which means she has an 80% chance of getting breast cancer. So to prevent this, E had a voluntary double mastectomy. Which totally sucks. And I just feel so guilty bitching about her. For a long time, I kept giving her the benefit of the doubt. My internal dialogue went like this: "Well, I'm sure I would be a basketcase, too, if my sister died that young and I might die of the same thing, causing me to volunteer to remove my boobs." (This health concern did not stop her from smoking like a chimney, btw. Another example of her great decision-making skills.)

But after a while, this argument couldn't justify her irritating habits or soothe my frazzled nerves. I began to divorce my worries and pity about her health from my resentment towards her. I compartmentalized these emotions. My internal dialogue turned into: "Well, I lost my brother and my dad in the same calendar year, and I don't feel the need to ruin other people's lunches or drone on and on about what an asshole my ex is."

And I grew weary of her. Exhausted, even. Encounters with her, which used to be friendly and exciting, were now dreadful and redundant, not to mention absurdly pathetic. I'm afraid I didn't do a very good job at concealing my joy when she told me she was moving out. I couldn't wait, to be honest.

The day her new boyfriend came to load up her stuff, I was in an excellent mood, I must say. I even smiled as I watched them load up the truck. I even offered to help. :D

Almost as a final parting gift from E, I have had to deal with The Table Incident. Let me explain:

When E moved in, she brought with her a HUGE, gorgeous kitchen table, with four chairs, all painted a glossy white. It looked like it was designed for my house, it went so well with my living/dining area. I love big tables, where I can spread out with books or projects. That table almost made living with E worth it.

So I was ecstatic when she told me she was moving out BUT was leaving the tables and chairs with me until further notice. She didn't need them at her new place, which was fully furnished. This was fabulous news.

A couple weeks later, E moved out. Not in the traditional sense of the word, in that all of your stuff is now at a new location and you no longer reside at your previous home. No, no. Not with E. For her, moving out takes a solid month. Which was, like most things E does, annoying as shit to me. I also happen to consider taking your sweet time to move out of someone's house to be fairly rude. But that's just my personal opinion. By that point, I just wanted her OUT OUT OUT. And all she did was drag, drag, drag her ass. So instead of having my house all to myself, I had to deal with random phone calls during that time: "Hey, I am coming over tonight to get some more stuff, ok?"

Most of you are thinking, "So, what's the big deal? You can just be conveniently not there when she comes over."

Oh, but I can't. Because E seemed to have a difficult time remembering what was hers and what is mine. She walked off with my George Foreman grill, after I told her which one was mine. In an admittedly childish retaliation, I hid her pizza stone until she brought it back. And she also managed to take one of my trashcans, which is only mildly irritating. If she managed to get anything else, I haven't noticed. But my point is, I had to be around to watch her move all her stuff out. Argh.

Finally, after weeks of this crap, she had moved all her stuff out. She also conveniently forgot to clean her bathroom or her bedroom, which were both filthy. Whatever. I certainly was not going to invite her back to clean them.

Breathing a deep sigh of relief, I thought I was free of her until further notice. I was enjoying the table and chairs so much, I was beginning to forgive her of all of her pain-in-the-ass ways.

But of course, nothing is ever really finished with E. She obsesses and dwells and changes her mind as often as she opens her mouth.

A couple of weeks after she had moved out, she called me to tell me she had changed her mind about the table and chairs. She was coming by to get them after work on Friday.

Leaving me with no table or chairs.

After she had told me 3 times that I could keep them until further notice.

Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe it was just the straw that broke the camel's back. It also could have been PMS. But I was royally pissed off about this and bitched about it incessantly for the entire weekend. Ask CN. He was sick to death of hearing about it, poor guy.

"What are you going to do if she calls you in a couple of weeks to tell you she wants to keep them at your house again?" he asked me.

"I'm going to tell her that if they come back in, they are mine forever," I said. "And if she remembers that she left her computer monitor here, I'm going to tell her I haven't seen it. I'm sick of playing Little Miss Nice Guy. I am having an E-botomy. She's being removed from my life. No more phone calls. No more hanging out. I do not care to ever talk to her again, to be honest. She drives me nuts."

"She left her computer monitor? Can I have it?" he asked.

"Consider it yours," I replied, happy to be 100% E-free at long last.