Thursday, April 27, 2006

Living at Home

At seven o'clock this morning, I hear my mother calling from the first floor, "Time to get uuuuuupppp!"

Nevermind that I'd been up for an hour and a half by that point. Nevermind that I'm almost thirty years old and have been waking up at dawn all by my lonesome for the last ten. Just those four little words had the ability to turn me into a peevish teenager all over again. I wanted to slump down the stairs wearing nothing but flannel and a glower, full of angst and darkness. It took every ounce of willpower not to throw a shoe down the stairwell and shriek, "What am I? TWELVE???!!! Why can't you ever just leave me alone!?"

I think I need adult training. Do they offer that?



Good thing I didn't throw anything since she's driving us to Augusta tomorrow to pick up The Dress. Let's hope it fits, since all attempts at dieting have failed. At least all this moving and lifting is giving me totally buff arms. Really! I made about 85 trips up and down my stairs today, getting the last of my belongings: 1 wildebeest, 1 surfboard, 2 paintings, and about 81 plants. My biceps are ripped.

So I'm officially moved.

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!

Ick


More rain?

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

From the Typhoon

Just came from the Women Making a Difference Spring Soiree, and I must say that I am continually impressed with the resilience of women around here. There were tornado warnings, gale force winds, torrential rains, the palmettos were bent sideways, and yet 150 women showed up to talk about giving back. Of course, most of them could have been like me...showing up for the martinis and crabcakes.

I'll also do just about anything to get out of the house right now. And by "the house," I mean, "my parents' house." Oh my God, I'm living back home again. I may need another martini.

You see, I have a squatter living at my new house at the moment. She was supposed to be out TWO WEEKS AGO, and is still there, hasn't packed, hasn't painted, hasn't fixed the fence. I asked my neighbor The Sexy Attorney if in her legal opinion I was allowed to kill The Squatter yet, and she said there is no legal justification for murder unless in self defense. So how can I wrangle some situation where The Squatter and I are alone together??? Hmmm.... You won't tell on me, will you?

So in the meantime, I've already let my apartment go to a friend of mine, who in turn, has given her landlord notice. The Squatter has unleashed a whirlwind of bad karma, you see, and I hope it smites her and smites her good. I've had to move all my shit out, and believe me, I have a lot of shit, and put it in my parents' garage. This means that at such time as The Squatter finally GTFO, I will have to move AGAIN. My God, people. The HORROR! And living with my parents...THE HORROR! Oh...The...HORROR!

On the bright side, my arms are looking seriously ripped. On the bad side, I HAVE TO MOVE TWICE!!!! SOMEONE KILL ME!

Friday, April 14, 2006

friday thoughts

This is the first day in a year and a half that I've gone without talking to A.S. Wierd. It's bothering me less than I thought it would, but then I'm also extremely busy PACKING! I haven't had to do this in a long time, and I wonder if I'm supposed to be dusting/de-hairing stuff BEFORE I pack it or AFTER I move it and am putting it away. I've got to get all the clutter out before book club on Monday, although since I forgot to send a reminder, I wonder if anyone is coming anyway. But back to A.S., I have to admit it's probably better that I'm packing the small stuff myself, because he might have driven me a little crazy had he been here, asking me what went where and did I really need all those copies of Chaucer.

But I have at least five Mini loads to take over to the new house tomorrow. I might be able to do a few more too, if I decide to pack my winter clothes. Only, with doing that comes Good Will purging, and I'll have to take the old cell phones and plates and juicer and fondue set and glasses, etc to the women's shelter, and I'll be damned if I can ever remember where it is.

My parents' dog is lying halfway across my lap at the moment, in the bed, much to Beulah's chagrin. Beulah's not allowed up here and is giving me doleful looks from the floor. Tough. Belle has never taken a snap at me before. I'm surprised the poor things is even speaking to me, since I completely forgot I was supposed to be taking care of her this weekend. Mom and Daddy left Friday at noon, having failed to make any arrangements for her at all. They called me on the way out of town and said to go fetch her after work. Well...I meant to. I even went over there to get her out of the backyard after work to go on a walk, but then she wasn't in the yard and I hadn't brought my key. And after my walk, I'd totally forgotten all about her...until seven o'clock the next morning. Poor little brown dog, she was very glad to see me.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

April is the Cruelest Month


Today, I fell while running and pulled my hamstring (I deeply resent having ANY body part that starts with "ham") and jammed all of my left toes. Then I had to drive to Columbia to talk with the consulate at 7:00 in the morning. I got pulled for speeding on the way home. Then all the bastards who were supposed to help me with presentation materials bailed, so i'm working (not really) on it from home all night.

April sucks.

As I recall, April is when I skinned my foot last year.

My dog died in April.

It's a damned good thing I didn't have my wedding in April or a meteor would have leveled the church, lightning would have struck the tent, a roach would have eaten the cake, the last three bridesmaids would have gotten knocked up along with the rest of them, my veil would have been caught in a freak combine accident involving Skol dip and a mangy dog, the cows at the reception would have stampeded the guests and our honeymoon plane would have gone down due to excess seagulls on the runway.

April is a whore. April hates me. April is out to get me and knock out my front teeth.

Lists

Good Things That Happened To Me Today
1. The dog will probably graduate from Dog School. We plan to hang her certificate next to A.S.'s Masters.
2. I found a $100 check from Skirt! magazine the other day that I had lost, and the super cool editor agreed to write me a new one.
3. My new house will have electricity. SCE&G said so.
4. I signed up to be a TNT mentor, so I get to help other people do what I did last fall.
5. I signed up for the Chicago Marathon. Hopefully it will be a good distraction.

Bad Things That Will Happen Tomorrow
1. I have to leave the house at dawn to get to Columbia by 9:00.
2. I will probably bounce a check.
3. The dog will take over the universe and I will catch hell for not feeding her table scraps.

Things That Suck About This Weekend
1. I have to move. And in case you were wondering why that is bad...here are two views from my porch. They're old, but not much changes round these parts 'cept the dogs.


2. I have to drive 90 minutes and go to my sister's hillbilly church for two hundred years on Sunday.
4. I have to call burly men to carry my heavy furniture down three flights of stairs and pay them $250.
5. I don't have $250.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Busted

Don't you hate getting caught in a lie? How much more do you hate it when your fiance busts you in a lie on the eve of his departure to Mexico to go to strip bars and surf on beaches filled with bikini clad women?

A.S. left half of his possessions here this past weekend by accident, and among them was some very important medication that he can't go without for the entire vacation. So he asked a fellow boob-traveler to bring it to him when they all meet in Charlotte. I was to leave his little satchel of possessions on the downstairs porch for him to pick up.

Well...I forgot, okay! I fucking fucking forgot, which I always do, and it really pisses me off that I can't ever remember anything ever ever ever goddamnitohell.

I even thought about grabbing it before I walked the dog, fearing that I would later forget. In fact, I thought so hard about it, I really thought I had actually done it.

Anyway, his friend came by while I was at the Charleston Women in International Trade banquet (very good filets) and naturally, the bag was not there. They called, but my phone was politely turned off. And when I came home and called A.S. to say goodnight, he told me that his friend hadn't found it. So I made a quick little story up that my neighbor Vince had accidentally picked it up thinking I'd forgotten it.

A.S. says, "That's strange. [My friend] talked to Vince, and Vince said he didn't have it."

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

What was a harmless little untruth that I intended to rectify by taking the bag OUT to his friend's house immediately was suddenly a giant monstrous smelly lie. Naturally, I lied some more and said that Vince was probably inebriated, which, being a bartender, he often is. And as soon as I got off the phone with him, I called Vince and made him promise not to tell.

So now my fiance is gone, and my stomach hurts because I lied, and lied for no real reason. I mean, he wasn't pissed at me really. Why did I have to go and say that? Now he's going off to Mexico, and we've had a fairly rotten last few days because of leftover stress from his thesis and he's going to be looking at boobs that are all (doubtless) bigger than mine, thinking what a liar I am. I despise feeling guilty and desperate.

AND I'm having to MOVE OUT of my lovely apartment, leaving all of my friends and neighbors, and paying bills out of my nonexistent checking account, and it's all just making me sick. How I would LOVE to get away for a couple of days with my friends and unwind. Why is that I help A.S. move FOUR TIMES in the course of our relationship and now that I need help, some ho's big fake tits are more important than me?

I think I'm going to go cry. I'm a girl. I can effing cry if I want to. Being engaged sucks. Everything just sucks.

Monday, April 10, 2006

L-I-G-H-W-E-I-G-H-T

Amanda's housesitting out in Daniel Island at the Taj Mahal of waterfront property, so I rummaged in my frigidaire and found the exact ingredients for vodka salmon cream sauce pasta...wait...that was out of order, but you get the general drift, right? I was ravenous, having skipped lunch in order to pay my overdue bills and race to the post office. We watched the sunset, snarfed (me) dinner. it was lovely. So, a bottle of champagne later, I'm home in bed, drunk.

At 9:38 p.m. on a Monday.

Weak.

Sunday, April 09, 2006

Sunday

God, I’m doing the interviews for my dad’s memoirs, and I’m sitting at the house of a friend of his whom I was to interview at 1:00, and it’s now 1:30 and they’re still not home from church (if high church starts at 11 a.m. don’t you think they ought to be back by now?). So their kid let me in, and he’s sick of my lurking around the living room. Also, this man has brain cancer, so I’m kind of nervous about talking to him, because he has to be translated, and I don’t want to be a jerk and not understand what he says. And also, as sad as it is, if I don’t get the interview now, I may never get it. Shit.

Two-thirty: Stood up. Dang.

Overheard last night

"The glow of my ear candle looks so beautiful reflected in your eyes."

"Like a Christmas tree?"

"Yes, like a Christmas tree. Only instead of toys and trees and candy-canes, you get revulsion, horror and ear wax."

Friday, April 07, 2006

Friday

He passed!

Hooray! Now we can get married and he can work and we can move away and not have to live at Clemson forevermore amen.

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Thursday

What a day. I’ve been so stressed out, I want to crawl under my desk. A.S.’ whole oral defense was really awful. Maybe they’re all like that, but somehow I think it did not go in his favor. He sort of forgot to demonstrate the model or to walk them through the whole interactive experience, which were the really cool elements...the part that made you say, “Ohhh! I get it!” So all they got was the theory, and never the sweet electronic “triggers” he had set up around the room. And the jury kept saying, “We’re missing something. What’s the point? How does it work?” And I wanted to leap up and say, “Look over HERE, people! Look at this cool steppy thing! Look at this door trigger! Here! This is awesome!” but instead A.S. kept getting defensive and wasn’t absorbing their questions properly.

It’s so awful to see someone you love do something really badly, and you know it’s just their thing to do, and you can’t interfere. I guess I’ll have to go the route that the jury is made up of all stupid ass holes and his project is wonderful (that’s only half a lie, because the project really was good...his presentation was just really bad).

God, he just called now and said he thought he answered their questions okay and that it was an overall good review. Shit. I don’t think he has any clue how it looked from the outside. GAH! Okay, maybe it will all end up okay somehow. Or does this mean he’s going to be completely surprised tomorrow when they tell him he has to re-present?

Monday, April 03, 2006

Jemima--Now with real coffee flavoring!!!

I started the morning with a ginormous hangover from mimosas, beer, and rum-soda drinks last night. Then I thought I’d add to the general a.m. malaise by choking on my coffee and promptly vomiting it out of my nose all over my bathroom counter. The inside of my head smells revoltingly like Café Verona, and I need to pressure wash my skull with Fabreeze (feels kind of like after reading “I Am Charlotte Simmons”...oh, the internal stench). Ew. Eeeewwww.

I hate Daylight Savings Time. I hate Benjamin Franklin for inventing Daylight Savings Time. I hate Mondays. I hate everything. Eff the world.

Sunday, April 02, 2006

Orange (Juice) Colored Afternoon

Ah, what a splendid day. I've been lying out in the yard with the Sexy Attorney all afternoon, getting brown and drinking pitchers of mimosas delivered by our house cabana boy...ie, our bartender neighbor, Vince. It's amazing how rosy the world looks and how easily the thank you notes flow after a gallon or so of champagne and sunshine. I am chock full of Vitamin D.

Also met Theresa and Jill for a drink at the Rooftop Bar on Vendue, which used to be so posh and is now kind of fratty ick. Fortunately, I took so long recovering enough to go out with them, that they were about ready to leave by the time I got there. Sabu and Vince and Amanda had lamb kebabs and coleslaw and such, oh and rum and lime drinks, waiting on me when I got home. Excellent!

Saturday, April 01, 2006

Full Day

My dad and sister and niece and I took the boat across the harbor and moored in Shem Creek right next to the start of the Cooper River Bridge Run. You just can't fathom the crowd...50,000 runners and walkers. Bean promptly fell asleep the second we put her in the stroller. There's something about boat rides that hypnotize her instantly and she can't keep her eyes open. Daddy walks super fast, so Melissa and I pawned the stroller off on him, so he could cut a swathe and we could keep up with him. You should see that man go. He was like a blaze of white nurse stocking legs and jogging stroller, mowing down fat ladies left and right. “Move it! Move it!”

After that, I had to scramble to get ready for my second shower...a kitchen one. My friends Helen and Suzy (Floozy) threw it for me along with their mothers, and it was really very fun. Holly was there too, although I'm really not sure she was prepared for the old fashion-ness of it all. She got me the cutest ever pink mixing bowl and heart-shaped measurers and kitchen towels. I'll have to make A.S. breakfast in bed, measuring with my heart shaped cups and pouring batter from my pink bowl into my heart shaped waffle iron (that's old). And no, I don't own anything else that's heart shaped.

My friend Lese, who is an artist and fantastic gallery owner, painted me the most darling little oil painting of a red, ripe tomato. So now I have a Lese Corrigan original! And A.S.'s mother gave us a slow cooker, which weighs about 45 lbs. I can barbecue naughty children in that thing. So I have a lot of thank you notes to write, plus a few extra for wedding presents that have already come. Oh God, it's all becoming so real. Just in case you weren't aware of my sudden moments of panic, Holly obnoxiously posted this stuttering email that I sent her last week, during one of my moments of hair-raising reality.

After everyone left, Helen threw a second birthday party for her daughter (my godchild), Eva. She got bubble everything, and spent the rest of the evening hopped up on icing and blowing bubbles with her new bubble wand. Afterwards, I raced home and got changed for an engagement cocktail party for two of my friends who are also getting married, one of whom is A.S.'s groomsmen. I ended up talking to this couple who is from South Africa, and it made me miss it so much. I'd absolutely love to take A.S. there one day. Maybe my parents will get mega generous and take us during their next trip (ha! Soooo Doubtful!). But I'd love to show him Table Mountain and go trekking in Krueger Park and take him to see all those amazing animals. I think he'd freak out.