Marshmallow Scars

Why can’t all of the items I need and want in my new apartment just magically appear there, so I don’t have to actually move them?

That would be really, really nice.

I have Sexy Tuberculosis Voice right now. It’s kinda like a smoker’s voice, except not because I don’t smoke. So named because a friend of the past was sick for a damn long time with bronchitis or something and had just seen Moulin Rouge. She kept saying she had the Sexy TB.

My cold or sudden allergies or whatever seems to be waning, but my voice is still wrecked from all of the coughing and itchy-throatness. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that it is going away for real, but I felt fine earlier this week, just like this, then it hit me again. yay?

I am so glad tomorrow is Friday. It’s been a long week. I want to get some sleep and relax this weekend. Of course, I need to be moving my stuff pretty soon here, so I shouldn’t goof off too much, I guess.

I have a cedar closet! I’m insanely excited about the cedar closet. And the skylights. And the claw foot bathtub. And having a place of my own that is big like a house but doesn’t have the responsibilities of a house!

I just wish the garage wasn’t tiny. I have a Monte Carlo, which as you may well know is a 2door vehicle. The doors are LARGE. The garage is not.

It’s a tight squeeze.

This is a purple coneflower that mom has planted in the front of the house.

I went home sick (to mom’s – between apts at the moment) from work yesterday afternoon – tried to sleep after taking some Zyrtek (or however it’s spelled. all I know is that it is expensive as hell), but various nieces and nephews and grandma weren’t making that entirely possible. So, I went outside for a few minutes. It was nice with a steady breeze out of the North to keep it from getting hot out. It was gorgeous. To wit:

I’m signing my lease tomorrow night. I really need to get my butt in gear and get things situated to move into the apartment starting next week. I officially take the place over on August 1. woo! I’ll post pictures, of course.

I found a new apartment. The rent is very reasonable, the place is huge & in good condition, I think I am going to love the location, and the landlord seems to be a decent sort. What more can you ask for in a rental? Oh, yeah, right. The random antiques left in the apartment that I am allowed to use.

There are a LOT of steps to get up to the apartment, though. Right now I’m staying positive about them because I am a bit excited about a forced workout. Tina Turner legs, here I come!

This will last for about three trips up and down the stairs. After that, I will bitch and whine and complain ENDLESSLY about the damn stairs. Fair warning.

Keep your fingers crossed that I don’t end up on crutches any time in the future, please. I would not like to have to deal with 26 stairs with a gimpy foot/knee/leg/what-have-you.

In other news, I need to remember that I’m not made of money, no matter how many care packages I want to make up and throw in the mail.

I’m feeling rather crappy because of an onslaught of allergy horribleness. (either that, or I caught a rather brutal summer cold) It went away for yesterday afternoon, then returned in time for the concert, so I was a bit out of it while they were rocking the Soaring Eagle auditorium.

I spoiled my niece with candy, bracelets from the craft fair, and a ride on the merry go round today at the Baby Food Festival. Her mom spoiled her the rest of the way with a couple of games and other goodies. I was lucky to feel a bit better for the afternoon so I could spend time with them. Or maybe spending time with them made me feel better. I don’t know.

I need lots and lots of sleep. I think I’ll get a leg up on that right now.

I’m getting excited to go see Stone Temple Pilots on Friday. I’m terrible and haven’t listened to any of their music for years, other than what I hear on the radio occasionally, so who knows what I’ll even remember of the songs. Whatever! I’ll still have a blast anyway.

I took a half day off work that day, so I will be out by noon. The concert is at a casino, so we’re going to go a little early and do a little gambling beforehand, I think. I will stick with the nickel slots. Nothing but high class all the way for me, baby! *g*

I have no idea if I’ll be able to take my camera into the venue. A friend of mine saw STP in Vegas and took some AWESOME shots, so I’m hoping that since the band doesn’t seem to mind, the casino people won’t mind either. Please keep your fingers crossed! — unless, of course, you’re not into STP. Then you might not care if I can take photos at the concert.

I, however, find Scott Weiland attractive in that “i am a bit repulsed by you, yet i find you incredibly sexy” way and would enjoy taking photos of him in all of his skanky sexy skinny glory. Also, I wouldn’t mind having a few decent pictures of the band to add to my collection of music photos over at flickr.

Because we all know I like to take pictures when I go to concerts, right?

I’m going to try to post to this particular blog more often, instead of just always posting to the other one I have been using. woo. I know all two of you are excited.

I was going to say that yesterday was total crap, but that’s not true. Yesterday morning was pretty normal, good or bad, however you want to take that. Yesterday afternoon was good. I saw my great aunt whom I haven’t actually seen in years, and it was a good afternoon of dinner at a great chinese buffet and time spent with mom, grandma, and said great aunt (who will be 90 on Sunday but doesn’t look at day over 72).

It was just the evening and night that went to [s][h][i][t], but we can’t blame the entire day for my family’s shortcomings, can we? No, we can’t.

My back aches like hell, the back of my left hand has a lovely large bruise & rather sore spot to go along with it, and I have a slight case of hamburger finger in one spot, but I’ve got almost everything out of the house I was renting. I just have to go grab the stuff out of one cupboard in the bathroom, take down the shower curtain, empty the fridge (there’s juice, chocolate, salsa and cheese in it – it won’t be too difficult), and vacuum the place. Not at all a problem.

It’s amazing how self-reliant you feel after you’ve moved yourself (except for the couch and recliner, which my oldest sister and bro-in-law helped with). It doesn’t make you any less angry, but you feel more accomplished.

Or something. I’m trying to find something positive from the whole mess.

Lesson learned: Who can I rely on? Me, me, and…me.
(I have had to do this before, so that is not just a temporary grumbling.)

I got a grand total of three hours of sleep, and I’m still extremely anti-social today as a result of last night, but I get to listen to my headphones and everyone will ignore me most of the day. I just hope I don’t do a header into my keyboard. That would be bad. BAD! (This is so much funnier if you hear it in Kelly Ripa’s voice from the “Only Bangkok”/”What happens in Thailand stays in Thailand” commercial skits when Ben Affleck hosted Saturday Night Live the second time. Classic!) You’d think the screaming pain between my shoulder blades would keep me awake and alert, but then you’d be thinking wrong.

I’m a sucker for the 4th of July/Independence Day. I can hear “The Stars and Stripes Forever” twenty times in a row and still get excited as soon as the music starts up again. I love my country, even when I hate a lot of its policies. I love drinking beer, barbecuing, and baking in the heat and humidity with friends and family. I love the parades. I am unashamed that my eyes tear up every time I hear our national anthem. And I love the pretty lights we blow up in the sky (and in our driveways and backyards afterward) every year.

Cold beer, good food, spending time with your loved ones, and blowing shit up. That’s what America is all about, right?

I haven’t taken any pictures since I’ve been staying at my sister’s. I’ve been there six nights, and nothing. I haven’t even felt like taking my camera out of my bag. It’s not been difficult or anything, really – the chores are a lot easier this time. I just haven’t felt like taking any pictures. It’s like writers block, and it sucks.

In the meantime, I have started down the slippery slope of condiment kleptomania. A few little salts and peppers here, a couple sugar packets there. I’m building up a store for the next care packages. I hope nobody minds that they’ve got the McDonald’s logo all over them. Maybe I should include a disclaimer that the McDonald’s corporation does not officially endorse any maniacal rantings contained within the same package?

In the meantime, please enjoy three pictures from housesittings past:

(you can click through to see larger files, if you’d like)