Arrival at Gate 9

After a long and harrowing ride, full of danger...

Ok, it was long. and I guess my driving is pretty harrowing. and Baby's beak is dangerous...well, I made it. I'm as unpacked as I can be and I slept well last night. Finally saw Tahoe Lake today and have been trying to catch up on thank you cards.

I feel a little awkward. I don't know at what point since the room I am staying in was originally someone else's (Poo's friend). He kicked him out and now he's staying at a shelter. Now, Poo also gave him a job, but it still hangs over my head a bit. I'm also not sure how long I am welcome here. But I think I would be wise not to overstay. I'm just not accustomed open hospitality. I'm used to a welcome. I'm also used to paying my way.

I bought another pair of shoes today so I no longer have only one pair. Tomorrow we're going tubing on the Truckee river. Soon, I hope to have something interesting to say.

one pair

Life has been crazy, what with the move and all.

Went to Vegas with the sisters last weekend. Pictures eventually, and the guy I danced with at the club? Had no rhythm, pumped his arm in the air like a very excited David Bowie a-la "The Wedding Singer" and played the air....flute? Good times. One thing I learned is that although I admire them greatly for their ability to look flawless, I have no patience for girly girls who take forever to get ready to go. Apparently it takes time and work to look that good, and well, I think I learned about myself that I'm too damn lazy. and I am very impatient.

Yesterday we managed to squeeze all of my considerable crap into my cousin's trailer. Today the cleaning began. I am blessed with the people in my life. My friend/housekeeper wrote the following on her check, "Buy Sexy non-work shoes with this. When I come to town you can wear them and we'll go get a drink together." Don't even get me started on the wonderful help I had loading up yesterday.

Tonight I headed down to my Aunt and Uncles for dinner. My grandparents were there too. It was a lovely time. On my way home, I stopped at the beach (I was RIGHT THERE) for a qick play in the water. The water was surprisingly warm. I didn't want to leave it. But I needed to come home, and well, it was kinda stinky from the rotting seaweed. I hope no one tells me later that there was a sewage spill when I wasn't paying attention, because I left the sand on my feet and drove home barefoot.

More when I can. I miss you guys. Have not kept up on my blog reading. Except the comments over at Jester's. Jeeze louise, people get wound up and defensive.

Procrastinator

I can't believe that it's been so long since I have posted! My last day of work Tuesday went well. I didn't get to say all of my goodbyes because I ended up with a lot of work to do in the afternoon, enough that I ended up working a bit of overtime, but I managed to keep my tears in check when Bossman said goodbye. Then as I was saying goodbye to coworker, she got up out of her chair. I asked if she was going to hug me.

"Yes, unless you don't want me to"
"Of course I will hug you!" (coworker is NOT a touchy feely person. I think I have touched her twice before in two years of working with her, and one of those times was to feel her pregnant belly. Heck, I have rinsed her puke bucket, but never hugged her)

The hug occurred, she said she would call and that it had been a great couple of years. That she would miss me. We both got all teary and I called us a bit pathetic to break the awkwardness.

And all the years of frustration and confusion evaportated as I thought, "Wow. I didn't think you liked me!"

And so I left.

Yesterday was a wirlwind of packing as should be today. My house is a disaster area but more than half way done. I'm thinking more like 3/4. If I would just focus and do it, I can be done.

I will be done.

progress

I'm on a packing roll today and it's starting to look like I am actually making progress. 29 boxes packed. In myferver, I got all my movies and all my CDs packed. I think that was 4 to 5 boxes alone. I ran into a snag though. What am I going to listen to since all my music is packed away?

Here we go again

If you remember back a couple of months ago the LAST time I tried this whole internet dating thing, I ended up with some pretty interesting replies to the answer "no". Some men would try to convince me otherwise when I said I wasn't interested, and often, they would get angry when I stod firm.

A couple of posts ago, I worried that I was being racist by not being interested in certain men. Then I realized that a lack of attraction is not racism, and that as long as I was treating everone basically the same, I was in the clear.

There are two things, however, that will get a rejection from me right away. Religion, as I don't date guys who designate themselves as Christian/Catholic* (but I will consider a "Christian-Other" this tell me that the guy might have Christian sesibilities and an upbringing but is not nessesarily active in the faith) and age. I'm young. Not REALLY young, but young enough to know that if I'm dating a man in his 40's or 50's, that I don't want to be changing his adult diapers when I''m in my 50's. I'm also exceptionally turned off by the idea of dating a man old enough to be my father. This is a point even bigger than the whole adult diaper thing because really, if you love someone, I don't think you mind all that much. Or maybe you do. but you take care of it anyway.

My profile specifically states that I am looing for a man between the ages of 25 and 37. in my mind, 37 is stretching it, but I am trying to be open minded. a little bit.

So when Brad, 44, contacted me, my mind said no, but I checked his profile anyway. He kind of looks like my grandpa, but, ok, lets see what else. His message has no continuity and he had an overuse of elipsis. Then there was the part where he used commas instead of periods. Ok, maybe he's a little nervous. Referred to himself as B-rad. Ok...Lists golf as his only hobby and wants a woman who likes to kiss at the grocery.

I'm not a golfer, or at least if I am I'm a goofy (mini) golfer, and I am most certainly NOT comfortable with public displays of affection. I think at this point you know that although B-rad wanted to "hang around for many years anyway,,,,,,,,,,,,," I responded using a canned response of "we are not a good match, take care". Then I forgot about it.

Today, I recieved this message from B-rad,
"Gina , Sorry your not a risk taker i look at it this way your loss Good luck Hope your not 50 by the time you find what your looking for, remember life is always about chances and choices, some are lucky and some are right and wrong, wish you the best, your very pretty.......B-rad"

I think I made a good choice. I'm flattered that he thinks I am pretty, but apparently I am not adventurous and make bad choices. Am I am doomed to singledom until I am 50 because I said no.

It is tempting to write back with a snarky remark about spelling, capitalization and correct use of punctuation, but I'll just be satisfied with posting the story to my blog. Oh, and there's something about the Pot calling the Kettle black.

Bragging

Guess who's gonna go see "Avenue Q" on Sunday. I'm thrilled to pieces! I really wanted to see the show but couldn't seem to find where to buy tickets online, and to heck if I'm going to drive the 20 miles downtown to get them at the box office. And then? a discount offer arrived in my email this morning. So C, Michelle and I will be watchin the nakid puppets sing and dance. As long as there is no actual puppet porn, I should be ok. puppet porn is just plain wrong.

oh jeez

Dear Men on Yahoo Personals and MySpace,

Please do not contact me using text speak. I do not communicate in this manner. I also do not tend to date men who are not articulate. It is possible that you are very intelligent. However, by dropping all of your vowels and communicating in abbreviations, you are not demonstrating this aptitude. Please return to 4th grade and learn to speak and write in proper English. Also, I am not the world's greatest speller. Sometimes I am grammatically incorrect. But I can promise you that I proofread before I post. I recommend you try the same. Because this little tidbit

"Hello Lady's I'm Looking For My Sol mate. . I'm Looking For A Lady That Has No Lier's Cheaters, I Need A Faithful Lady. . Someone That L.."

will not make me want to be your sol mate. Even though I don't have any lier's cheaters and even if you weren't in your 50's.

On coworkers, chickens and showering

Today, Cate over at Snozzberries asked whether we dry off in the shower or on the mat. This reminded me that I am very particular about my showers so I thought I would share my ritual.

I shower every night. Always. I have been shit faced can't remember anything drunk and still insisted on a shower. I will skip this if I am camping or is I am at a sleepover, but most of my friends know so they automatically point me towards the bathroom when it is bed time so I don't even have to ask. There are reasons for this that one day when I am feeling particularly open I will share.

I always brush my hair before my shower. It's long. Really long. and I hate clogged drains. If you have ever pulled old hair out of a drain you know why I brush before my shower. I like hair catchers. ick.

If my hair comes out in the bath, I stick it to the wall and deal with it later. Regardless, I make sure this is done before the housekeepers come. That's one of those things I don't think they should have to deal with.

I wash my hair and condition. While the conditioner sets, I brush my teeth with my electric toothbrush. It's a messy contraption, I don't like toothpaste on the front of my clothes or on the mirror.

I always rinse my hair before I soap up. I always work from top to bottom. It just makes sense.

I towel off in the shower, drying everything but the bottom of my feet. Growing up, we weren't allowed to leave a wet bathmat. At all. so generally the only "wet" on my mat is two footprints. I always hang the mat to dry immediately. Another childhood habit, I suppose. I'm almost militant about it. If my bathmat is on the floor, something is off.

then off to bed I go!

today is my favorite Chicken Pie's 21st birthday. I can't wait to see her on Tuesday (maybe she can join me for Taco Tuesday!) and I REALLY can't wait to take her to Vegas next weekend. Happy Birthday Pie!! I will call her later.

Coworker is having another crisis. I don't know what, I just recognize the tone. I'm not going to miss her drama.

I know I should be working

But there are a couple of things I need to get off my chest.

Saturday, my mom was asking about my blog, and whether it would be a good thing if she read it. I told her no, knowing that there are a few things she might come across that would hurt her feelings. It had nothing to do with loving her and everything to do with wanting to protect her from the things I have said in frustration that I needed to spit out. And they landed here.

I once thought that the discovery of my blog by those who knew me might be the end of the world. Especially for people I have ranted about. Then C found it, and read it, and we talked about it. It healed a rift in our friendship and I would say that while we are not as close as we were, I think we are as close as we can be seeing as how our relationship is no longer intimate. I was lucky that time. c and I were able to discuss things. Would I be so fortunate with my mom?

At the time, when we were discussing it, it came up that my sister reads. As does my cousin. and a few of my friends. Suddenly, it seemed unfair to exclude my mother from these things when it appears that anyone else can be allowed to peek.

There are few things I dislike more in this world than to be excluded.

I wondered if perhaps I should go back and edit out those frustrated posts. But I think that sometimes, when I am most anguished, I express myself best. (sometimes not) And this, being an online journal type thing, would be severely diminished if I edited for the feelings of others. But then, how is that different than the things I hold back for privacy? Writing instead in my paper journal?

This is a matter I think a lot of bloggers go through. I am certainly not going to pretend I am the first to struggle with it.

And who knows? maybe she will understand. I'm sure I have upset her on more than one occation. Perhaps it would teach me to be more tolerant and not go spouting off to the internet every time I get a bee in my bonnet.

Part of what got me thinking was the overwhelming sense of love and appreciation for my mom that I was hit with on Sunday. Without her, I wouldn't be. She deserves every bit of love and kindess.

On a differnt subject completely, I hate my bras. they don't fit and I can't seem to get them clean. Even fresh off the doorknob they feel dirty. I think I am done shopping for them at Victoria's Secret. Sadly, no one else seems to carry my size except in pointyboob granny styles and up, I'm far too young to be wearing those. You would think that with the popularity of fake breasts that there would be more options for the giftedly endowed.

On a whole nother subject, I am working on meeting people before I go to Reno. I have contacted crafty folk and signed up for Yahoo Personals. I know. I swore off internet dating. Whatever, I can change my mind if I want to and it seems like a good way to get to know people before I arrive. I'm feeling guilty though. You see, while I try not to exclude anyone from my list of possibilities based on heritage, the truth of the matter is that I tend to be attracted to the same sort of men so when men outside of that general appearance contact me, I feel bad rejecting them on account of no attraction. I worry that it makes me racist. And then I realize that i am. Because I feel guilty rejecting a black man because I am not attracted to him, but not a white guy. But maybe I am not because if a black man I was attracted to were to contact me and be a good match, I would not reject him. I'm willing to step outside the box for the right fella. (I am only using black men as an example) I should just be pleased that guys are looking. I know I am very pleased that the men who have looked so far are interested in a woman who is not a stick figure. AND, I am not getting all wound up when a man doesn't reply to my inquiries. So, good for me. Ok, back to work.

Books and other things

Therre was a time when books were precious. When reading was a skill afforded to rich men. And even then, to own one book was precious.

Today I cataloged 128 books into Librarything. I still have another large bookcase. I haven't even touched the cook books. I did this now because I've been meaning to do it and I thought it smart to enter the titles while I packed the books. I have 14 boxes packed. 6 less than the goal I set for myself on Friday. It is still a start. I can almost walk in my office. the pile of things to be rid of grows. One thng at a time. In my mind everything is packed. I am living off the minimum. some clothes, toiletries, my spinning wheel.

I am not out of boxes, but I am out of places to put them. And the housekeepers come tomorrow. I need to clear floorspace so they can vacume. I need to find the couch. It's firghtening when the bathroom is the cleanest room in the house. The only room when you don't have to climb over stuff in order to walk. One thing at a time. One box at a time.

An award!

I have recieved two awards now, one from Not so Anonymous Michelle, and the other from Jestertunes. Michelle's, I was, of course, flattered and excited by, but I forgot to post it. I think I will go look through her archives. She made me feel Pop-u-LAR. And loved.

Jester, presenting the following:



really rocked my world. suddenly, I'm in the cool club again! Who will I tag? Probably no one. See, all the blogs I read rock. so perhaps, i will save this award and pass it along when I feel ready. Like any bit of wisdom. In the meantime, to those of you who I read every chance I can (sometimes popping in a couple of times a day, pchef and chickie) thank you for roviding me endless entertainment and comraderie. And to those of you who just lurk or just comment, you rock too.

Another one

Another work day where the attitude from outside my department makes me want to tell them all to fuck off and then I leave. But I won't. I mean, I am, but not until it's time.

Coworker is out again today, as was she yesterday, dealing with her life. Which means I still have not told her I am leaving, although the cat is out. I can't very well pretend I will be here when I won't. I hope she is ok, and getting things together for herself. Rumor has it she's out indefinately, but since I didn't hear that from Bossman, I think it's just a rumor. Meanwhile, I have plenty of my own, and also her's to deal with. It wouldn't be so bad if the proceedures on things I used to do hadn't changed while they were in her hands.

7 more days. Well, 7 1/2. I'm trying to stay positive. I can tell that bossman is stressed. Perhaps I will book a massage for the week after I arrive in Reno.

Packing Meditations

Maybe I need medications instead.

So in between reading, doing laundry, eating quesadillas, I have been packing this evening. I had planned to get some sewing done after my evening with C fell through (shit happens, it really does. We're going out tomorrow instead) I now have 4, count em, 4 boxes packed. 3 of them are crafty, one business. progress is slow, but happening.

That's not the point.

I was thinking about it, and I'm not sure why it didn't hit me before. Maybe it was something in the strains of Guns N Roses that triggered the thoughts.

I have lived alone, completely alone, for the first time in many years for a year and a half. During that time, I dated one fella, but I have also spent a lot of time by myself. That's not the point. The point is that I think somewhere in there, my life went right side up again and I didn't even notice. And that's totally cool. While I may not particularly FEEL like packing up the potato heads, it's time for me to move on the the next phase of my life.

I don't think moving on is ever easy, but I am excited about the destination. And days like today, I can't wait for new things to start. I'm looking forward to snowboarding all winter. To living where there is snow. SNOW! I'm looking forward to new people and new opportunities. To learning who at my new job drives me crazy. (It was one of THOSE days).Sure, the packing is daunting. But I feel like I am back on track after being derailed for a few years. and that, my friends, is my triumph for the day.

It's done

I gave notice at my apartment yesterday, and had to pay for an extra day when I won't even be there. I briefly thought about allowing my dad to stay there the couple of days that I will be gone but the place will still be in my name, (how's that for a run-on?) but I realized that it would be complicated and a very bad idea. It's ok to have bad ideas, as long as you don't follow through on them.

I handed bossman my resignation this morning. I took a deep breath, put on my big-girl panties and went for it. It was easier than I thought. I told him the truth of where I am going, and he told me how happy he is for me, as it is an excellent opportunity. I promised to keep in touch.

He won't say anything about me leaving until I am ready. He suggested I wait a week and think about how I want to handle it. It would be easy if not for coworker. I want to tell her because it's who I am, I want to keep it from her to be spiteful. Writing that reminds me that spite is never the right answer. I'm sure the right answer will come to me soon.

Meanwhile, things are moving right along. I gave away my old computer last night to a nice man who was reading my blog when I arrived at his house. That was kind of weird and surreal. Hi Doug. Someone will hopefully be picking up my dresser tonight. I think I want to keep the rest of my furniture.

So much to do. Baby needs to be transferred into her new travel cage, I need to pack and liquidate. I hate packing. I never finished unpacking. Part of me says to just throw away anything that I haven't unpacked. Some of it is still in boxes from when I moved from my mom's. I JUST unpacked all the china. I'm packing it with my blankets this time. And my jackets. I just don't want to deal with newspaper.

There have been questions about my destination.

Reno.

I feel like I am lying

I haven't given notice yet, and they don't know that I am moving. It's hard to keep this information secret, because I tend to tell everyone everything. I want to be just as excited about my life changes here at work as I am at home.

How to explain to coworker why I, the packrat, want to weed out my crafty supplies and give her my candlemaking stuff? How to share with bossman all the exciting preperations when I can't tell him I am leaving?

Coworker mentioned today someone who is leaving who gave notice right after his vacation. I had to bite my tounge. It's conicendence that I am giving notice this week. Pure coincedence.

Where am I going? Can't really talk about that either. I'm essentially being stolen. I have been recommended not to talk about it. It will be hard. I know they will ask. And if I tell where I am going, they will know who stole me away...Too many secrets. I don't like them.

But I have to say, I don't think I will be missed, work-wise. When I arrived this morning, there wasn't any work to be done. I'm ok with that.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words

I made you a slide show. it tells a story. When you get to the part where i was drunk and kissyface with the 18 year old river snack, you will see why I was a bit embarassed to share. But since my mom and sister both thought it was funny, now you know that whole story.

I think I likes best the parts of the trip when we were sober. I have many of them, my cohorts, not so many. That's ok for them. The night after the river snack, it took a long time for me to sober up. I don't like that feeling.