So I have a new car...

It's not nearly as cute as the bug. But it's a lot more practical. I finally made a grown up purchase. Whatever. I hate this adult stuff.

Its a black Nissan. And I have been calling it my government official car. Maybe if I put some blue lights on top people wouldn't hit me anymore? That'd be great.

... but really though, every time I get in it I feel like I should have a suit on. And be on my cell phone in pursuit of something dangerous and X Files worthy. Oh man. Can we tell I'm trying to re-watch the ENTIRE SERIES before the movie comes out next month? Pretty sure my roommates hate me.

This is what it looks like:



I chose this picture just because it's in front of the Acura sign and that made me giggle. Because it's not an Acura. It's a Nissan. Get it?!

Finance is almost done. And I'm coming home Wednesday. And I get to see my favorite person in the whole world. :-) Plus a few other people who are pretty cool... I'm gonna go get this homework done so I can spend my night watching some more X Files.

Mmm.... trash.

So today is my last day in the rental car. I was cleaning it out this morning, and let me tell you, it's amazing how much crap you can accumulate in a month. Especially if you take 3 out of state trips in that said month. But I digress.

Anyway, so I grab an armload of trash out of the car and walk to the dumpster, which is right behind my car. I heave all the junk forward, and almost all of it hits the ground. About the only thing that made it IN to the dumpster were my keys, which I'd slung around my pinky finger. Awesome.

They sat there between two bags of trash, taunting me. I stood for a second to devise a plan, cursing my lack of height, and figure climbing onto the ledge and leaning forward would be the easiest. Let me tell you, dumpsters are not easily scaled. After that plan failed miserably, I looked at my car and realized I had a stack of text books. So I stack them up and stand on them, giving me the extra boost I needed to reach my keys. I lean forward and the books slide out from under me, and I lunge forward, winding up to my elbows in trash.

Yes, I had the presence of mind to snag the keys before I ran away and dry heaved. So I'm going to bathe in bleach now.

Reminders.

The memory is an amazing thing. Somehow, with as much as we put into our brains, as many things as we encounter and process every day, every second of our lives, we are able to clearly recall events, experiences, and people forever. Everyone has moments that they will never forget. Sometimes all it takes is a small reminder. A name, a smell, an emotion, or picture can send you right back to a place or moment. Sometimes, that moment is that last place that you'd ever choose to be. But once something sends you back to that place, it is impossible to ignore. I can't even begin to pretend that I've got this all figured out. What happens when you're back in that place? Where do I go from here? I don't know.

I do know that it hurts, and that these are the moments I would normally choose to run away. I'm getting better about that. Escaping is nothing more than a temporary fix - and it usually hurts worse on the back end. Delaying the healing process comes with it's own set of problems. I don't know what God's got lined up for me, but it's becoming more and more clear that Tennessee isn't in the plan right now, and now that I know that, I want to be done with this chapter. This summer is proving to be agonizing. I think that all He asks is that we do the best we can to hear Him. The listening thing is definitely something I have to work on. I'd rather sit there and discuss things and think and read and come up with ideas than just sit and hear what He's got to say.

So right now, my prayers are for stillness. For quiet, for moments of silence and focus. For direction - clarity. And -ultimately - healing. I know that things will work out. He always sees to that.

Finance Makes Me Want To Die.

That is all.

I Hate Moving.

I hate it a whole lot. I don't think I would hate it as much if this was semi-permanent, but knowing I'm going to have to move in 2 months makes this even less fun than usual. I accumulated a lot of junk at the last apartment. (PS I have a completely unnecessary amount of Halloween stuff. This means there will be a sweet Halloween party this year in NC. Just FYI.)

I went into the day with no sleep. Well, that's sort of a lie. I probably slept about an hour at a rest area somewhere in Kentucky. So basically, I was in fine form, and completely on top of my game. However, M's family was incredible and helped me a ton. Another friend came out and helped. It all got done. I even got all my new bedding on my bed and put my lamps together. At around 10pm I was pumped to go to sleep... then we thought we would get the entertainment center put together. We failed. At around midnight we called it quits and I went to sleep. This morning I get up entirely too early to move my car so the POD people can pick it up for Ash... I walk back inside and hear a weird noise in the bathroom. The toilet broke. Water was everywhere.

Meanwhile, roomie's POD was being picked up, her bed was being delivered, and the washer and dryer were being delivered. Basically at the same time. I'm in my pajamas with no make up on at all lookin' HIT, attempting to conquer the entertainment center. Dogface was locked out on the patio so he wouldn't get in the way, making the most horrendous noises you have ever heard in your life. It was a magical moment on Plum Nelly Circle.

So, with the delivery guys gone and the repair guys in the bathroom doing their thing, I manage to defeat the furniture gods and produce a brilliantly assembled entertainment center. Then I go to move it and rip the side of it off, splintering the board and generally destroying my work. There goes the brilliance. They are, however, sending a free replacement board and all will be well in 5-7 business days.

So there you have the first day in the new place. As M and her cousin decided yesterday, first day in and we had beds and a shower, really can't complain. Right?

I'm A Murderer.

I killed a squirrel today on my way back to the office. Generally they're fast enough to get out of the way. This one was just as fast... just a little dumber as it scurried out directly into my tire.

The only time I've killed another animal was when I was driving home from Alabama over the Nickajack Dam and I hit a muskrat. And true to form, I definitely made a spectacle of it. I didn't just hit it and leave it on the road. Oh no. Apparently it caught on my back tire and got airborne. I looked back through my rear view and see a muskrat spinning through the air behind me. I didn't see any subsequent accidents indicating that it landed on a windshield, so my assumption is that it landed a) on the side of the road where road kill belongs, or b) over the side of the bridge in the water somewhere.

This squirrel, however, is smashed in the alley. And I will be forced to stare at it every day. That's what I get for being a murderer, I suppose.

Recovery.

I don't think I have ever experienced exhaustion to this degree before. The last couple weeks or so has been the most horribly busy period of my life. And that's saying something if you know me. Here's a quick recap:

Moving. Oh. My. Gosh. And I get to do it again on Monday. I packed Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. Stole Tony's SUV and started hauling stuff Wednesday. Thursday moved furniture. Friday Fan Fair began for me. Insanity. Saturday we did the fan fair thing during the day, I took a three hour "break", during which I moved all of my food and dishes and some other misc boxes, and went back downtown at 4 to be at Rachel's Limelight show. It was a long freaking day.



Sunday rolled around. We wrapped up at the convention center at 4. After breaking stuff down and loading it into boxes, we sat and waited for them to let the truck in so we could load up. And waited. For an hour and a half. Pretty sure we all crashed immediately. This picture sums it all up:



Awesome.

So Monday. Back to school. I woke up at some stupid hour of the morning, thinking I'd study. Which... I actually did. I went to class in pajamas, planning on going directly home after I wrapped up at school. Nope. Bossman calls and informs me that we need ink. INK. That I need to go get. So... since I only worked 7 hours last week am an incredible employee, I went and ran to office max, and returned to the office to prepare for the meeting. Then... I busted out the X Files DVDs and made some mac & cheese and sat on the couch for 8 hours and watched Mulder and Scully. Yeah, I've watched pretty much all of season 5 in the past two days. Yesterday I was so tired my body hurt. I called my mom and started crying. I don't know why. I couldn't stop. So I skipped my night class and went to bed at 8:45. It was a beautiful thing.

So now the focus is buying a car. And making Geico give me the rental until I get one. Can I just be done with this and get out of Tennessee?

Notes From A Late Night Tailgate...

I started writing this Thursday night while I was sitting on the side of the highway at 3am... and then forgot to publish it until now. Oops. Whatever.


Today started off a little rough. I stayed out past my bed time last night and was definitely draggin' a little... 3 hrs just doesn't do it for me anymore. I made it through the day. Denver helped me get the last big furniture piece out of the apartment. Progress was made. I went to both offices. Made it to a friend's birthday dinner. Then... I thought it was a good idea to go to a midnight writer's round at the Hard Rock. So I'm heading home at 2am to begin with. I'm rolling down the highway, and all of a sudden we all stop. All four lanes. I can't see anything, but the fact that people are running down the side of the highway and sitting on the hoods of their cars doesn't bode well for my quick return home.

So I sat. And text messaged. And Facebooked. And started blogging on my phone. And seethed and plotted against the idiot teenagers that were running between the cars banging on people's hoods. Mid blog, I see cars moving. Slowly. 2am had turned into 3am before we saw any movement. I made it home at 3:30am. And found out that our callbox was broken. I couldn't get into my own complex for 25 minutes.

Then, because I'm an idiot, I thought packing would be a great idea. Just load up the car one more time.

FAIL. The dog had been inside all day and proceeded to run in circles around the complex and howl like some sort of banshee. I cut myself on the picture I broke. I woke up my poor roommate sometime around 4am. However, the car is now loaded. All that is left are my clothes and dishes, and I am officially done with this apartment.

For now, I'm sitting on the couch running late for work, because I feel like a truck rolled over me.

CHAOS in full swing.

So as I was opening this up to start typing the boss calls. I need to make a phone call to none other than cute boy that I geeked out on the other day. For business purposes, obviously. Then he asked me why I'd never called him about financial stuff. He's coming to the office on Tuesday to discuss.

... weird. I'll update you.

So this week is pure insanity for me. Classes started, Fan Fair is here, and I'm moving. And you know, working, trying to sort out car stuff (which has to be done by Friday when they take back my rental or I'm carless...), etc. At least it's gorgeous out. Sun puts me in a good mood.

Belmont, once again, made financial aid way more complicated than it needed to be... and informed me at 10am yesterday that my classes would be dropped, as my loan would not be certified until later this week. I lost it. I went up there, told them they needed to keep my schedule, and... they actually did. So one by one, the things that could keep me from graduating are disappearing. Just over 2 months!

I've made a serious dent in packing. Which is good, because I plan on hauling the majority of my stuff out TOMORROW. And, so far, the only injury sustained was minor (I managed to tip a bookshelf forward, and every single shelf slid out onto my foot... it was awesome).

My dog is really bitter about the whole situation. With unofficial boy roommate gone and the apartment in utter chaos, he's a bit off kilter. He was in fine form last night. To begin with, Michelle and I discovered "protest poop" under the table. I don't really get the whole "I'm mad at you so I'm going to poop on the floor" response a lot of animals have. I mean, honestly, can we just imagine what would occur if humans had those retaliation tactics? Ugh. Gosh, why did I even go there...

Anyway, so after we get cleaned up, we were packing up comforters into vacuum storage bags (which, PS, are the BEST INVENTIONS EVER), and he pointedly walks over, farts in our general direction, and promptly returns to his corner of the couch.

Then it's dinner time. M is eating in the living room. The dog wanders over, and makes this gagging noise, right over her plate. It seriously looked like he was pretending to throw up on her plate. We laughed at him, naturally, and he was seriously embarrassed. He walked around M's chair, turned his back to us, pushed his ears back, and avoided us. Generally a pretty useless creature, he is at least immensely entertaining.

Sorry this post got so gross. I'll try to avoid the bathroom humor from now on.