boxes

Slowly, slowly things are starting to come together here in our new place. Boy, that sounds nice: ‘our’ new place. I think it’ll be a while before I’m used to seeing Steven on weekdays. It’s very enjoyable so far.

You know what’s more fun than moving from one place to another? Why, moving from two places to one other, of course! We got to experience this little gem over the last week. First, we moved Steven from his college apartment to our new one. Northcutt Realty is one of Satan’s own, so he had to be out the day before actual graduation. The stifling weather was more proof of Northcutt’s connections with Hades: 95-100 degrees with ~70% humidity. People were breaking out in a hard sweat at six in the morning. The deed was done on time (yay!) with many thanks to Ken and Willis, who helped move that huge entertainment center though it turns out we’re not gonna need it anyway.

Graduation day itself was the most relaxing day of the week — there was no moving involved. The only sucky part was my new pair of shoes. They fit oh so perfect in the store, of course, but once we were heading toward the coliseum for the ceremony it was like my feet were strapped to a burning, pinching string of broken glass. They’re getting donated.

Friday was the long-dreaded Fort Payne move, which actually went better than I had anticipated. Thank goodness for strong parents. Thank even more goodness for rare summer cold fronts that swoosh by on Thursday nights. With temperatures in the low 80’s and practically no humidity, we all thought we had died and gone to Alaska.

Saturday was the last day of the Moving Extravaganza. Now all of our stuff is in this apartment in Opelika . . . it’s just not all put away yet. In fact, I am sitting on the floor as I write this update. We put my desk in the dumpster in hopes of finding a more utilitarian concoctive for our computer room. With me working long distance and Steven being the software guy he is, we know we need our separate computers. I don’t like his miniscule screen resolution and he hates my nifty trackball mouse. You say tomato . . .

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I never thought it would be so hard to give away stuff. Now that Steven and I are in the same place, we don’t need that extra set of dishes and flatware or those ratty old towels. Between us, we had leftover kitchen stuff, extra sheets, a coffee pot, express machine, pillows . . . man, you name it, we’ve got an extra supply of it. We started off throwing it away as we’d come across it. Ken got great pleasure from busting up that coffee carafe.

The more we threw away, though, the more guilty we felt. People could use that stuff! We’d try to pawn it off to friends and family, but everyone’s answer was the same: “I’ve got no room.” Yeah, same with us, that’s why we’re trying to give it away; free, free, FREE!!! We finally made a pile that we’d try to donate somewhere once we figured out where that ‘somewhere’ is.

Yesterday, I found it. Right outside the Thrift Store are these donating bin areas. Yes, place to drop off the junk! I had Elliott full of the stuff, so I opened up the back tailgate and started dragging it out.

Not two seconds after I set down that box of towels, a lady comes over to me and says, “Wow, you’re just giving away all those towels?!”

“Yes,’ I reply, “you want them?”

“Absolutely!” the exclaims, then proceeds to haul off the box with the help of her son.

I set down another box of kitcheny stuff and immediately another woman comes up to me and asks, “Do you know if we’ve gotta pay for that stuff or can we just take it?”

“Uhh, I just dropped off those two boxes there, and you’re welcome to root through it,” I say.

By the time I left there was a swarm of people around that stuff. It wasn’t all mine, though. There was also a decent couch and some old college textbooks lying around. It was a weird feeling. I was happy to know people were gonna get some use out of that stuff, yet I felt guilty because I had no use for it myself; I felt even more guilty for the other stuff we had already busted up and thrown away. The crash of that coffee carafe will haunt me for years, I think.

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So now I’m here on the floor, slowly unpacking these masses of boxes while waiting for Steven to get back from his second day of work. So far, the new job is going well. It will be going better once he receives his first paycheck. Then maybe I won’t have to sit on the floor.

Oh, amusing side note: it was one year ago today I posted my first post on this weblog. Woohoo, one year of blogging and I’m just as amused as when I started. My spelling still sucks, though.

home, home on the plains

Amazing what all can change in a week. Last week I was worrying; this week I am packing . . . to go to Auburn, for good. Yes, that’s right — Steven decided on the job in Auburn! It was a hard decision that had to be made quite fast, but we were thankful to be in such a dilemma. There are much worse quandaries to be in than ‘Agg, which fantastic job offer do I take?!?’ We’re still in shock over such incredible luck.

Now I’m preparing to move from Fort Payne, this city that has been my home for the last year and a half. I broke the news to my office yesterday. It was taken very well — it was expected, after all. Though I am moving in less than two weeks, I’m going to still officially be working here for a few months afterwards. All that involves is just a trip up here once a week or so to finish up some lurking projects and get through the fall. It’s a good scenario for everybody: they get more time to find a replacement and I get more time to figure out if I’m going job hunting or starting graduate school. Hmm, can I do both?

I don’t think we’re disappointing too many people by moving back to Auburn. My sister is especially ecstatic. I think all the other Auburn peeps are amused, too (probably because the good blender will be back in town). We’ll be settling in just in time for football season, too. Dance, dance, dance! The first game is in less than six weeks!

Don’t expect me to be writing as often for a bit. I have a new mission in life to put all my worldly possessions into little cardboard boxes. It is an ambitious undertaking, but I am up to the challenge. This task will be even more fun with the cats circling me like sharks, waiting for me to slip up and drop some hazardous object so they can immediately play with and/or eat it, as they are wont to do.

Don’t worry though, if Renton chomps down on an ink pen or something, I’ll be sure to write about it and take many pictures.

when it rains, it pours (so the cliché goes)

“I have an interview with that company in Auburn this afternoon at three,” Steven informed me yesterday morning.

“Fantastic,” I replied. Steven had sent that company a resumé last week, but he hadn’t heard from them. It turned out they never received it. A quick phone call by Steven turned into an afternoon interview. “Maybe this will help create a huge shift in the universe toward our favor,” I continued, referring to a job in Birmingham he interviewed for but had not heard from yet. It would be a cool job.

Fast forward to lunchtime. I had gone out with a friend to lunch at the Cracker Barrell. It had been a long time since I enjoyed their tasty chicken tenderloins. We were discussing my anxiety over all this non-job business when my cell phone rang.

“Speak of the devil,” I said when I saw that it was Steven.

“Hey,” he said, “remember how we said arranging that job interview would shift the universe?”

“Yeah . . .”

“Well, it worked. I got the job in Birmingham!”

! ! ! ! !

From here I’m not sure exactly what I said except, “Oh, my God, I’m in a public place and I’m about to cry.” Steven read off all the details about the job but it went in one ear and right out the other. All I was thinking was, “Steven got a job! We’re all going to be okay! Wait a second, I’ve got to move . . .”

It’s all good, though. I feel ten million times better than I did yesterday morning. It’s a wonderful feeling, like that first gasp of air after being under the water for longer than you meant to be. The air feels so good, and I’m ready to dry off now.

Steven went on to that Auburn interview later that afternoon with the intentions of explaining his situation: he needs an answer ASAP. The interview went quite well and quite long — over two hours. Steven got the impression that they are very interested in him and are willing to speed up their process to give him an answer. They will hopefully call today.

Yesterday we had no idea where we would end up or what was going to happen. Today is an absolutely different story, armed with a Birmingham job offer and the potential for an Auburn offer in the plot. Either way, I feel we will be very happy. We will be secure and in places we know.

I have not talked to my boss yet; he is out of town so that conversation will come Monday. Like I said before, I love my job but I love my husband more. We’re ready to be in the same town again.

My biggest worry now? The kitties are going to hate moving.

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UPDATE: Steven was just offered the job in Auburn, too! Now what do we do?!? -14:06

two weeks

Two weeks from today, my husband will graduate from college. I’m not sure if the true meaning of this has hit me yet. We’ve been married for a little over seven months and yet we’ve never really had the experience of living together; Auburn is three long hours away from my job in Fort Payne. In fourteen days there will be just one home for us. We just don’t know where that will be.

I love my job. The only thing better would be the unrealistic fantasy of designing landscapes for the rich and famous at the rate of hundreds of dollars an hour. The location of my job, however, does not lend itself well to budding software engineers such as my husband. Though he interviewed for a job here in town, it is more likely that we could end up in Birmingham, Atlanta, or even back in Auburn. Even so, right now we are just wafting in the breeze of fluttering resumés and interviews.

I feel so emotionally unsettled. Torn between the joy of Steven’s impending graduation and uncertainty of where we could end up, I haven’t been able to concentrate on practically anything, including work. I’m thankful that the summer heat deters people from their landscaping desires.

At the very least, Steven will be able to move up here after graduation and concentrate soley on his job-hunting while I work. Getting rid of his Auburn rent, power, and other financial necessities will be a great relief on ye olde checking account. We would still be living day-to-day, though, until someone comes through with a job offer. What if nothing comes through at all? Are we destined to live in this day-to-day manner for the rest of our carzy little lives?

This is the moment when I realize I worry like my grandmother.

I have to remind myself that everything will be so much better once Steven and I are actually living together. I have to remember how he always makes me feel more confident and sure of myself. He supports me as I do him. Sometimes, (especially on Wednesday nights), I tend to forget that. Just two more weeks until he comes home for good.

In two weeks, I’ll be okay.

Lay Lake Loungers

Hmm, I feel I must post about my fun-filled weekend in order to get away from the current unpleasantness. Here I go.

This past weekend Steven and I went to Willis’ lake house on Lay Lake with Ken, Lisa, Ande, Paul ( who came on Sunday), and Willis, of course. We were planning on leaving Saturday morning, but after a late-night run to Wal-Mart on Friday, we decided to go ahead and hit the road as none of us were really tired. Due to a vet meeting, Lisa and Ande couldn’t make it till midday Saturday.

It was quite a blast. We all were mostly relaxing by sleeping late, lounging around, and eating. We even had a hammock, which I ever so gracefully fell out of. Everyone even swam in the lake, including me (after a little bit of coaxing and a promise of a float).

There were some fireworks left from the Fourth of July which we shot on Saturday night. They were the spectacular mortar shell kind and some Roman candles. We made the shots from the candles skip across the slew. That was beyond amusing to me.

One of us got the Bright Idea(tm) of sticking sparklers in leftover slices of watermelon and launching them in the slew (I think it was me). We soon discovered that watermelon prefers to float rind-side-up; we lost a few sparklers that way. At the end, we finally got one launched, but with one ill-advised push, it did a barrel-roll like the others. The next day, the ants were quite appreciative of all the free watermelon.

The next afternoon at lunch, Willis’ dad said, “Now I know there’s got to be a reason behind this . . .what is the deal with the watermelon by the dock?” He was met with peals of laughter.

I also got to have a few rides in a boat. I like boats (simple minds, simple pleasures . . .). We tried to find our friend the Thornburg’s house, but I don’t think we went north enough. On Sunday, however, we did run out of gas. Thanks to the kindness of strangers, it turned out to be a very amusing experience, mostly because of what Willis said. Can’t repeat it, though.

The original plan was for Steven and I to leave about 3 p.m., head to Auburn, pick up the kitties from Cathy, and I’d get back in Fort Payne about 9 p.m. Ha, ha, ha. I ended up staying ’till 8 p.m., heading immediately back to Fort Payne, and Steven is keeping the kitties for a week. I miss my babies, but I believe Steven is enjoying their company. They’re being quite good for him.

There you have it, folks; my amusing weekend. Let’s do that again!

I’m actually ranting.

Since the posts of this morning, PK has either deleted all of her previous posts back into May or she has hidden them away from everybody who is not her ‘friend.’ What a way to argue.

I opened up a LiveJournal account so I do not have to post anonymously anymore; a few of my friends have one of these accounts. You can go here to see my latest reply to PK. I had to put in a first post, so I posted that.

Feel free to comment, whoever you are. Here in my online nation, I do not censor anybody, even if they are mental.

I do not want to use my weblog for this kind of stuff, however . . .

An aquaintance of both my sister and I posted an attack on my sister for not inviting her to her wedding of last month. It upset us all, and we both replied to her posts with my reply at 1:30 this morning. An hour later I was censored by her removal of my post. Oh my, but she has awoken the beast.

What follows is my original reply that was written between midnight and 1:30 this morning, the 12th of July. It has not been edited since then. I am not posting this to try to appeal to Katie (PK), it is an effort on my part to clear my sister and her husband’s name of any supposed wrongdoing.

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To clarify, this is Carrie, sister of Cathy.

To start, I understand the First Amendment; you have a right to say what you want to say to whomever you want to say it. I am not mad at you because you ranted. What I am, however, is absolutely disgusted, saddened, and infuriated at your reasoning behind these posts. So I shall use my First Amendment right to counterpoint you.

First, to clarify parts where I am mentioned. You state in your reply to Cathy’s post that you “didn’t expect to be invited to Carrie’s [wedding].” And yet, in the second sentence of your first post, you complain that being left out of a wedding invite is the “second time this happened in the same freaking family,” referring to my wedding of six months past. If you didn’t expect to be invited to mine, why are you upset that this is the “second time” this has happened? How contradictory.

Any information you received about our wedding was most likely given in response to your questions. I cannot vouch for Sharon, Willis, and the others, but I know all the information you received from Steven was in response to your repeated questions. He disliked giving you the details, but he felt it rude to say, “We’re not telling you that.” Neither of us ever came up to you to tell you all about the wedding plans.

That takes care of the direct references to me. Now on to your attack on my sister.

Indeed, it was an attack. You meant for it to be heard. If you did not, you would not have a link to your weblog from your buddy profile. Cathy is not nor has ever been a spiteful, mean person, yet you talk as if she did not send you an invitation as a personal affront to you. How dare you suggest such a thing of my sister. You speak as if you were the best of friends and she stabbed you in the back. Oh, I know you state later that you were never “super close friends with” Cathy and Jason, but you sure give a different impression in your first post. You list these ridiculous vague ties with Cathy and Jason, such as “former roommate’s [Jason’s] girlfriend (now ex),” you “were there the night they got engaged,” and the groom wanted to sign your cast, among others. Whether you thought you were “super close friends” or not, it reads as if you felt like you were a shoe-in for an invitation.

Now, to counterpoint your vague references mentioned above. “[F]ormer roommate’s girlfriend (now ex)” — Yes, Jason and Paul were once roommates. Yes, you and Paul used to date. Later, you two broke up. If I remember correctly, this was about three years ago. You moved on. Later you make a reference to Sharon’s ex-boyfriend being invited, so therefore you should have been, too. Cathy is friends with that boy; it had nothing to do with him once dating Sharon.

You were “there the night they got engaged.” Um, that reads to me like you were actually there the moment when Jason proposed. That is certainly not true: they were by themselves on campus. Immediately afterwards they came to me and Steven to tell us the news, where they also called their respective parents. Then they went to tell their best friend, Sharon. You just happened to be visiting Sharon when Cathy and Jason showed up. They had no intention of hunting you out to give you the news.

Now about the Jason wanted to sign your cast comment — he wanted to sign it because he had never signed a cast before. That had nothing to do with you specifically, it is just one of those simple pleasures in life that Jason has not yet gotten to experience. It’s a petty little thing, but you made it even pettier by presenting it as an argument for a wedding invitation. It is a similar situation with the argument of Jason sending you links to their registry and wedding website. He was so excited about the entire thing, he wanted to share his joy with everybody. It did not insinuate that he wanted you to buy them something or wanted you to come. I believe you read too much into these little actions.

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You state in your second post that you found Cathy’s apology “more upsetting” than if she had just lied to you and said, ” ‘[O]ops, we forgot.’ ” Terribly sorry, but it is not Cathy, Jason’s, or anyone else’s job to placate you so you can feel better about yourself. That is your own job. I am flabberghasted that you would suggest it is others’ responsibility to make you feel good. That whole idea goes too deep for this conversation. It is a problem.

You also state in your second post that what you find “paticularly stinging is the fact that some of the people that were invited they [Cathy and Jason] rarely talk to and yet the groom talked to [you] a good number of times and they are deemed ‘important enough’ and [you were] not.” Who exactly are you referring to? I have already gone over Sharon’s ex-boyfriend’s friendship with Cathy and Jason; the only other person I can think of is Paul. If you think that Jason and Paul have not talked in three years, you are mistaken. They talk reguarly; they have stayed friends. Cathy has also known Paul since high school. If you are referring to any other people than these two, please put them forth.

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You used your weblog to vent your grievances; that is what they can be used for, among other things. I do not have a problem with this fact. You spoke your mind so that others, including Cathy and Jason, could know. This weekend, they read your post, and they knew. They were understandably upset, but they did not reply right away. In fact, they waited a few hours to cool down before they replied. They chose to give an apology. It may not have explained themselves fully or gone over your issues point by point, but they apologized, out in the open for everyone to see.

What did you do with it? You threw it back in their face as soon as you read it. You did this out in the open as well, for everyone to see. You gave yourself no chance to collect your thoughts; it was posted in the height of very misplaced hurt and anger. What do you want from them? What can they say to make you happy? I do know one thing: they will not say they made a mistake in not inviting you. This whole debacle of the weblog justifies their decision, in my opinion.

You state that Cathy and Jason’s apology can be summed up as “you’re not important” to them. I’m afraid you’ve hit the nail on the head: you’re not important. That is the facts and you need to accept it. You cannot be best friends with everybody. You can, however, be annoying to everybody. Amazing how that works.

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As I said before, you have your First Amendment rights. But you must use those rights with a degree of respect. By these posts that you have sent online, you have disrespected my sister, her husband, their friends, and their family, including Steven and me. Cathy and Jason were under ABSOLUTELY NO OBLIGATION to invite you to anything. Even if they had so much as told you to your face that you were going to be sent an invitation, they would not have been obligated to send you one. No matter what signals from Cathy and Jason that you express you received, you were not guaranteed anything.

The fact that you expected anything from Cathy and Jason is revolting. Yes, the First Baptist Church of Auburn is “big enough” and one more person would not have “cramped [their] style.” However, your specific presence would have ‘cramped their style,’ as you put it. To put it extremely bluntly, you were not wanted, just as you were not wanted at my wedding. For you to expect to be wanted is sadly optimistic.

You should not lash out at others because you think they cause you unhappiness. Truly happy people do not let the actions of others cause such grief and distress as you express has happened to you due to the lack of a wedding invitation. All you end up doing is hurting yourself and others. I am one of those ‘others,’ notice it is one o’clock in the morning while I am sending this message to you.

If you have anything more to say, you do it through private e-mail or by phone. My e-mail address is hissineedyouATgmailDOTcom and my phone number is 256-XXX-XXXX.

Do not mess with the Paulk girls.

Balls of Steele

There is a little town in Alabama by the name of Steele, which I had the unexpected pleasure of visiting a few weeks ago. I veered into it when my little Ford Contour (yeah, I know) decided it’s true call in life was horse impersonation and began bucking back and forth.

Here’s an interesting fact I learned about Steele: in Steele, it is apparently customary for the boss of the car repair shop to take the (only) car computer mind-reader with them when they go to a doctor’s appointment. Surprising, yes? I was surprised, too. The only diagnosis my car received while I was there was a noticeable separating of the left back tire, which was a totally different problem.

Dad rescued me and the two kitties from the small town of Steele where my car sat until the next day when she was diagnosed and repaired; all without my permission. It was ~$182.00, which wouldn’t have been so bad if she had actually been fixed.

On the way home, as the car bucked and tried with all her might to neigh, Steven uttered the magic words to me: “Let’s get rid of this car.”

Ask and you shall receive, baby.

That afternoon I was on a Saturn lot, where my mother had just gotten a new car the week before. The next day we stopped by a Honda lot; I wanted to see those Elements I had been eyeing since their first commercial.

The next evening, after a rousing session of over-the-phone haggling, I was at a Honda dealership in Chattanooga signing papers. It was a very ‘grown-up’ moment for me, if that makes any sense. Even the negotiating process was amusing; I was conducting an orchestra of dealerships across the tri-state area, all straining their calculators to be heard. It was a lovely counterpoint.

And now, the car. We got a Galapagos Green 2004 Honda Element EX, auto transmission and two-wheel drive. The ‘EX’ translates into things like cruise control, ABS brakes, keyless entry, power everything, yada yada. Oh, and his name is Elliott, after the composer. And last but not least, we got a damn good price.

Back to the Ford (who’s official name is Raspberry Beret, by the by), the total bill that weekend came to a little over three hundred dollars once we replaced the two back wheels. We didn’t trade her in; we’re going to try to sell her ourselves. She was looked over by a mechanic in Alabaster who cannot re-create the horse-bucking, so we’ve just got to get the title and she’s on the market.

I haven’t told her any of this yet. She’s still in Alabaster (never made it back to Fort Payne), so she hasn’t seen Elliott yet. I’ve had her eight long years; I’m gonna cry.

Hey, anybody want a 1996 Ford Contour? She’s got auto transmission, ABS brakes, power everything, midnight red color (read: dark purple), 81,000 miles.

I am going to cry, though.

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And to those of you who think the Elements are ugly, get this: I don’t care; we love it!

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I know this is an awful long post already, but there’s just been so many life-changing events!

Life-changing event #2: Cathy and Jason got married, yay!

Though the wedding weekend was packed full, everything went off without a hitch, much to the happiness of Cathy’s nervous system. I mostly remember all of the food. Food, food, and yet more food was piled upon us from Thursday to Sunday. It was all so good, too; we had to eat it all!

There was also a lot of coming and going to a plethora of meetings, appointments, practices, and parties. The bridesmaid’s luncheon, especially, was very nice. I want to live in that old house that they turned into a restaurant. Maybe someday it’ll turn back into a house . . . and relocate a few more blocks away from the campus area.

The ceremony itself was lovely. Nobody tripped, nobody forgot where to go or what to do, and nobody flubbed their lines . . . except a small slip-up by Jason, who was quite eager to say ‘I do.’ Maybe he was thinking about that smiley-face groom’s cake.

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We are now looking at four weeks until Steven officially graduates. What will I do without all the long-distance weekend trips in my life? I guess we’ll just have to drive down to the beach a lot to satisfy our traveling urges. Man, I can’t wait.

hecticly hysterical happenings

Yes, I’m a horrible, horrible person for not writing at all recently. I’m going to Blogger-Hell. It’s turned out to be an extremely busy month and it ain’t over yet. Heading to Auburn tomorrow; ’tis my sister’s wedding on Saturday. Steven’s birthday is today (dance, dance!), and so there are many parties to be had this weekend.

I do have some interesting stories and an amusing development, but I’ve not the time nor the liberty to write about them at this point. Hopefully I’ll be able to sit down and give a full update next week. Once I get over this weekend, the ride to August will be wonderfully downhill from here.

And so without further ado, let the Hectic Weekend of the Year commence!