Exhaustitated

Exhausted + Irritated

I went to bed "early" last night in hopes of kicking the blues that followed me around all day yesterday. Not to mention a not very relaxing weekend...which was my one goal since I've been feeling sickly. But oh no. Mother nature thought a nice extremely loud thunderstorm + scared little doggie toenails + J's sinus sniffles + early alarm = I think I looked at the clock at least once every hour. I better start pumping the coffee now.

It's gonna be one of those days.

Suck it up

I've had it.  I'm sick and tired of my vacuum.  Living with wood-floors with two hairy beasts gets hard on a girl.  I swear, two days after a hard clean I will see hair-bunnies tumbling down the hallway and it's all I can do to not fly into a fit of rage.  I hate the hair tumbleweeds.

Last night while as I was in the middle of vacuuming the place, I shut off our crappo two-year old lost all its suction power dirt-pushing Bissell and proclaimed to J, "If I get a new job, I'm buying a new VACUUM!"  Not a new pair of shoes, not a cute new purse, not some more delicious antique mason jars...a cleaning device.  By golly, if there is a way to make housework enjoyable, or even worth its while (considering our current piece of junk usually hurls dog hair everywhere instead of taking car of the problem) then I want one.

So.  I'm open to suggestions.  I want this one, albeit its ridiculous pricetag.  Partly because it's called the Dyson Animal, and I think only a wild thing can tame this pet hair situation.  And I can imagine myself running down the hallway chasing after those pesky tumbleweeds, with an evil glimmer in my eye, screaming, "Buhuhahahaaa!"

[And it's purple.]

Smooth Operator

I was so naive.  I thought I knew everything there was to know about my fiance.  So wrong.

As I was making my work snack of celery + peanut butter, I came across something that caught me so off guard I felt woozy inside.  Something that reminded me of my childhood, when my mother staged a similar coup, and it caused a similar rift.  Something that in our nearly two years together has never been an issue.  But then again, why would it, until it shows its ugly face.

CRUNCHY peanut butter, J?  Really?

Dinner for 8

Thursday night after I got home from the gym, J and I slowly started to make dinner.  He prepares the food for the grill, I saute the veggies...  In the middle of snapping the end off a green bean, someone knocked on our door.  Amidst the dogs barking their heads off, I peeped through the peephole and saw it was one of our first floor neighbors.  (The neighbor that we weren't entirely sure liked us as much as his roommate).

 

Of course we welcomed him in, the perfect host and hostess that we are (flashback: me, in sweaty gymclothes with a tousled ponytail.  J: I'll just say thank goodness he had pants on).  What happened next is kind of blurry in my memory due to hunger pains and the fact that I'd ceased reading New Moon just long enough to make some green beans.  Neighbor Jeremy, who we'll now call Jer (that's for you, Gib), starts talking about grilling and grills and can we grill and do we have a grill and you get the picture.  It ended up with J telling Jer that yes we have a grill, and it's on, and we're getting ready to throw a few steaks on it now.  Jer says something to the tune of "Do you mind if we grilled some veggies on it?"  He says he's got food downstairs and that they'll bring it up.  I say, "Sure."  I didn't catch his use of plural pronouns.

 

So he left, and J and I were just as confused as we'd been when we opened the door to see a guy who hasn't necessarily expressed his love for us yet.  Five minutes later he and a girl showed up with 2 grocery bags of food, a huge bowl of potato salad, 2 boxes of Boca burgers, and an unopened bottle of Southern Comfort.  Five minutes after that, three of his friends showed up at our door with beer.  Five minutes after that, one last straggler shows up.  Total: 8 people.

 

In what might've seemed like an act of antisocial behavior, J and I sat at our dining room table and ate our dinners while our neighbor and his posse hijacked our balcony.  They were drinking beer, they were laughing, they were not at all acting like this was an odd situation.  Our dining room table is right by one of J's fishtanks so two of NeighborFriends came to look at it.  They're a married couple.  They have African Cichlids too.  The talked with us for quite a while about it.  They also have a new puppy that they rescued.  Ok, we like them.

 

Flash forward two hours.  All 8 of us are standing in our kitchen (which makes me laugh because my old kitchen had a max occupancy of 1.4 people) laughing at one of J's animated stories, as Mary and Leo entertain us all.  Turns out 2 of NeighborFriends work with Jer at the Botanical Gardens and they offer some advise on our budding herb garden on the balcony.  They loved the dogs.  Showered them with love and treats.  And all in all, when it was all said and done we had a lot of fun with them**.  We joked afterwards about why anyone would invite friends over for a cookout if you don't have access to a grill.  Totally random and spontaneous.  And it completely made me appreciate how clean our place was.

 

After all, you just never know when you're going to host someone else's dinner party.

 

**The married couple had a friend in town.  An extremely tall girl, like towered above the rest of us.  At one point when we were all in the kitchen, she bent over and then slowly crumpled to the floor.  It was the weirdest thing I'd ever seen...don't think I've ever seen anyone faint before***.  I gave her some water, someone reached into our cabinet and handed her a bowl.  I'm assuming it was her for to puke in, which hello, gross.  She just sat there saying she thought she'd been food poisoned (she ate a veggie burger) and how she then said it was sun poisoning.  It was very odd.  And she didn't even want to leave then either; they stayed another hour.  Her friend's husband said later that "Guess the air's thinner up there."  I said, "Where?  Here on the 3rd floor?" and he goes, "No, when you're 6 foot 7."

 

***Retraction: sophomore year in college J-Gib fainted due to a massive allergic reaction to amoxicillin.  That day took 9 years off my life.

 

Sunday Spring

After unwinding a bit after my parents' visit, I spent all day yesterday being a lazy SOB.  I began my day of laze with a little coffee on the balcony, book in hand, and enjoyed a solid hour of uninterrupted reading while the dogs relocated their bodies every ten minutes, trying to follow the patches of sunlight across the porch.  The dogs then got a good brushing and a nail trimming.

After that, Justin woke up and my laziness only got worse.  I took my entire basket of nail stuff out on to the porch and gave myself my first Springtime pedicure in a lovely shade of hottttt pink. The only thing left to do with my day was to do one measly load of laundry, and then spend about 2 hours squeegeeing water into the sump pump down in the basement.  Things your landlard won't tell you when you move into a 100 year old East Coast house with a basement: Hey, those 4 1/2 days of rain you had last week?  That's going to flood your basement for the foreseeable future.  Fetch your leopard-print wellies and carry on with your business!

Our night wrapped up when I finally deemed it the right time to eat the roast I'd started in the crock pot 6 hours earlier.  Despite getting something in my eye last evening (if I were a betting man, I'd bet it was a hair belonging to either a smallish brown dog, or a smallish black dog) and then after an hour of rubbing, rinsing, crying, screaming to the gods to get it out of me!, it was a much-needed day.

ETA: 1 hour

The house has been cleaned.  The dogs have been bathed.  The various decorations that we purchased when we first moved here have finally gone up.  Why?

In preparation of the parents' arrival in one hour!

I picked up the keys yesterday to the apartment they're staying at in the building my friend manages, and they've got a tenth floor view of the city and a few flat-screen TVs to keep them happy.  J's mom just called to find out what we're serving tonight because she doesn't want to serve them the same thing tomorrow night at the great meet-and-greet.  

I almost can't stand the excitement of this weekend.

A couple who takes antibiotics together, stays together

This was such a miserable week at our house.  J's been sick for over a week, although it seems like much longer now.  Last week consisted of me whispering to him, "Do you have to breathe in my face?  Can't you roll over?  I love you!" as we fell asleep.  Well, wouldn't you know, he did breathe on me -- LOTS probably, because around Tuesday of this week, it hit me.  And I fell hard, too.

November of 2007 brought two things for me: love and a tonsillectomy.  That's right, at 25 I got my infected chicken nugget-sized tonsils ripped out.  A painful 3 week recovery was the last time I'd suffer due to those bastards, thank you.  And I must say, a sinus infection like the one I have now would've likely killed me pre-tonsil-ripping-out.  Yet I still sit here, with completely clogged ears and a stuffy nose, just thankful I can breathe out of one nostril today.  On Wednesday, as my nose wouldn't stop running, and as J and I went through an entire box of tissues, I was just so grateful not to have those throbbing swollen walnuts stuck to the side of my throat.  Self, I told myself, be glad you can swallow.

Thursday I woke up and realized that I was getting way worse.  A trip to the doctor and 4 frustrating trips to Walgreens later, I had my antibiotics in hand, ready to fight the infection.  My trip to the doc even inspired J to go see his.  Matching sinus infections; isn't that precious?

Yesterday after I got home from work, I opened up all the windows even though it was only 45 degrees outside and let this place air out.  I vacuumed, Swiffered, Cloroxed the remote, our phones, the coffee table.  J washed our linens.  I removed our 1,000 discarded tissues and we took out the trash.  We're going to get better, dammit.

And the best way for me to get better?  Finding out today that I've got tomorrow off work.  Yep, not that I'll be doing any Superbowl drinking, well, maybe a virgin screwdriver or two, but I plan on sleeping in.  Having breakfast with J.  Walking the dogs.  Trying to get the rest of J's birthday present together.  Trying to live my entire life in 24 hours before it starts all over again.  But hopefully this week will be different.  Hopefully I'll have my hearing back.

T minus 70 minutes

We are going to meet our new "Land-chick" at 5:00 to exchange rent checks for keys.  I cannot verbalize how excited I am.

Also exciting happenings of the last 24 hours:

-Joanna (rockstar) found us an awesome house in Napa for Lauren's bachelorette weekend in May.  The excitement continues! :)

-We met our first neighbors last night.  Very nice, they're letting us use the driveway for the big move.

-Had an interesting conversation with J about a certain sparkly something he put in his new safety deposit box at the bank.  A certain something that was hidden in the apartment for 3 months.  A certain something that he showed to Leo, and apparently licked it.  I can't believe a boy who can't keep secrets from me kept this amazing secret.  BUT--then he spilled the beans.

-My mother decided to be amazing and sent us a happy moving gift.  A HUGE box of barbeque from Jack Stack in Kansas City.  That's where the 'rents took us when we were in town this summer and we loved it.  We will have all meals planned for us this weekend which was a huge help, and also delicious.  Plus it came packed in dry ice which was pretty amazing.  Just like the Thriller video.

-J took the babies to the dog-spa today to get their nails professionally trimmed down in honor of our wood floors.  He then brought them home and Pedi-Paw'd them by himself.  The dogs have lost their battle against the Pedi-Paw.  We win.

I'm getting ready to unplug my computer now.  Which means silence until further notice.  Wishing my people an amazing weekend!  

Struggling at juggling

Yesterday my balls came crashing down (that's what she said).  

I've been juggling lots of things.  My job getting more insane by the minute.  My upcoming move.  My car needing to go into the shop for the second time this weekend (DON'T ASK.  It's another post in itself).  My outside of work design stuff.  My semi-serious insomnia.  The phrase stretching myself too thin means a little more to me now.  It was inevitable that when yesterday's news of mandatory overtime for the next two weeks made its way to me, I'd just meltdown.  And I did.  And I chose to do it in my boss's office.

Yes, that's right.  I cried at work.  For about an hour.  Luckily for me, working in a building of a bazillion men, I have a boss who is a female.  And she's emotional.  And she let me sit in her office, behind closed doors and rant and rave and cry and bitch and moan.  And she gave me what could possibly be the best advice for a super duper stress puppy like myself.

"What can we fix right now?  Nothing.  So instead of looking at it like a big heavy rope, let's take it apart.  Let's unbraid it, strand by strand.  What's the first thing we can fix?"

Such amazing advice for me.  She also said she knows my tendencies to take on the world, and feel the need to handle everything myself when really I should delegate more or simply say no.  So last night after getting home from the gym, I took the night off.  I didn't pack.  I didn't work on Lauren's Save the Date cards (in fact I post-poned my tele-meeting with her until tonight), I didn't answer my phone.  Instead, I ate a Greek salad with my boyfriend and watched Atonement, sitting amongst a wall of boxes that he packed yesterday while I was at work melting down.  I guess if you're going to have a quarter-life crisis it's nice to have someone to pass some of your balls to.  

Why I'll miss the Euroloft

Coming to an inbox near you

Perhaps I've been watching too much It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, but I thought there was no better way to alert my non-blog-reading friends and fam where and when we're moving.

P.S. Don't worry, it's only a digital chin-length bob.

Moving on up, to the West side

J and I are positively giddy...we have been looking for a place to move at the end of December, when our current lease expires, and we have found a place that blew both of our minds.  It's not possible to love a place more than our wonderful Euroloft; but this place will definitely run a close second.

Since I moved to Virginia in 2004, I have been in love with West Ghent's tree-studded streets lined with large picturesque old houses, rich in history -- except back then Cassie and I thought "Ghent" was such a weird, ugly word.  Who knew it's where I would walk with Leo until I decided I could stay here on my own, start my life out on my own?  And J grew up two blocks from our new condo.  It's a hop, skip, and a jump to our favorite bar, restaurant, and dog-walking spots.  It's two blocks from the friends we hang out with the most.  It is literally two blocks from the Midtown Tunnel, shaving ten minutes off our commute to work.  It will hopefully tone our rumps into lean mean stair-climbing machines, being on the third floor and all.  It defies all standards for W. Ghent in that it has tons of closet space and a beautifully bright, decently-sized kitchen.  We are doubling our square footage.  The master bedroom is currently a shade of leaf green that could burn out your corneas, so I won't post a picture until we paint it.

Best of all, it's a 3 bedroom, so J and I get our own offices!  We'd long since agreed he would get his much sought after "man cave" where he can store all of his...I don't know...man things.  But now I get my own space too, and since I'm working a lot in the evenings it'll come in very handy to have a designated Stacy Space.  My office will also double as a guest bedroom, which means visitors are welcome!  Oh, and did I forget to mention it's the most wondrous shade of crimson?  Who loves red more than this girl?  

Our new living area

Half of J standing in the kitchen talking to our new landlord

The lovely taupe-y gray bathroom that coincidentally matches 

our current bathroom decor

What I've always wanted

Moving date: December 15th.

The not-so-silent-treatment

This past Sunday was our one year anniversary.  Unbelievable.  But I'm not going to gush about love and puppies and hearts.  Not just yet.

Now that J and I live together, we see more of each other than ever before, obviously.  And possibly more important than that, we see so much less of just ourselves.  Every minute not spent at work or the gym is spent together at home crammed into 700 square feet.  Perhaps due to these facts,  we had a stupid little argument last night (the best kinds of arguments).  About our dogs, nonetheless.  And as there's barely an empty cranny to squeeze yourself into when you're trying to give your partner the silent treatment, we have to coexist.  Silently.

Amidst all the avoiding of eye contact, busying ourselves in opposite rooms, I decided to go to bed.  Since J quit smoking he's been using several teeth whitening methods, and the ones he's got now make him look like he's wearing two football mouth guards.  He can't talk when he's wearing them and they make his lips pooch out like a monkey.  He was ready to make up, and I was ready to hold on to my point for just a little while longer.  Since he couldn't speak to me without dribbling whitening liquids all over his chest he decided to use my computer as a messenger, typing his message into a Stickies note and then making the Mac read it aloud to me.  Since this has become one of our favorite new ways to torture the dogs, it only took about two seconds for me to burst out laughing.  I dare you to stay straight-faced when your computer says to you, "I need to get a new suit because my current one gives me muffin top.  And all my ties are worn out and wrinkly like an old man's nether regions."  After several minutes of computerized conversation, we were laughing hysterically and unable to remember why it took a stupid robotic voice to make us forget that we were even arguing in the first place. 

Tonight after the gym I met J at the mall and he picked out the most amazing suit.  In my dad's words, he looked sharp.  If the invterviewer were a woman (it's not) he'd be hired just walking in the door.  As we were leaving the parking garage tonight in our separate cars, J went through the cashier's lane first.  I pulled up to the window still digging through my wallet searching for cash.  The cashier said, "Oh, don't worry, miss, the gentleman in front of you paid for your ticket."  And that's something I don't need any robot to remind me anytime soon. 

Weekend Activities

1. Trying to figure out how to cram everything I wear into my dresser and ONE closet. This means losing 50% of my closet space. Closets--may I add--that have been overflowing since the day I moved in. Goodwill is my new best friend.

2. Learning how to let go and compromise a little. Still.quite.hard.

3. Spending loads of time crowded around my computer trying to decide what coffee to order. J brings along with him his Keurig coffee machine, so we placed a huge order of coffee, tea, and white hot chocolate. YUM.

4. Learning how to compromise. Yes, it's that hard when you've lived alone for the past 3 years.

5. Spraying J down with aloe. Apparently someone didn't listen when I said, "Hey, you need to apply the SPF45, whitey!" That someone is also now covered in bright red sunburn, can't sleep, and complains when the dogs brush past their legs.

Casa de Nickels-Dale

Update: after a long talk about finances, availability, and our future, J and I decided to renew my lease for 6 months and he's moving in with me. We, and our dogs, will be living in my ~700 sq ft apartment until December, which by then hopefully we'll have saved some moolah and be able to find a great (large) apartment without having to compete with med students who have all day to apartment hunt during the summer. We're very excited...I mean, we've practically been living together anyway, but not really. And now it'll be official. And we're going to rearrange furniture to make it "new" as well as get a storage unit to house half of our crap. We've got a lot of it.

And before we made this decision, I made a budget-minded decision to cut off my cable. Yes. I willingly made the decision to cut my bills by $75 dollar a month, since that's what my cable + HBO costs. We thought it'd help save cash and help us get off our bums as well. It ends tomorrow, so I have to end this blog and go park my bum in front of the TV. I'm trying not to get distracted by anything else. I'm sorry for not answering my phone tonight, but after 3 days of non-stop talking on my phone (to brokers, to strangers, to J, to my parents) and lots of tears, tonight I'm going to have a glass of Pinot and watch whatever is on the boob tube.

Change of a dress

Prepare yourselves for months of non-stop blog talk about my upcoming cohabitation. Not that I'm going to be all, "Oooh I'm moving in with my boyfriend," but that I'm going to be all, "I HATE MOVING." Today officially started the apartment search, and just like in every other aspect of my life, I attacked it with fervor. I found 3 places today, have an appt to see one tomorrow, and already saw one.

The one I saw, I shall call it the Yellow Adobe Sunshine Suite, was adorable. It was the sunny upstairs (hello, can you say Euroloft re-run?) of a duplex. Upon walking up to meet the broker, I caught a glimpse of the downstairs neighbor, AKA the owner of the building, getting in his Jaguar and speeding off somewhere totally glam. He was fashionable, probably 35, and gay (visual clues, and was later confirmed by the broker). He seemed nice, and has 2 dog, which makes him seem nicer, and apparently hardly ever home. Me likes. Also spotted: a baby grand piano and tons of artwork. Me really likes.

It was a HUGE 3 bedroom/1ba with a formal dining room (we would probably set up wall-to-wall tumbling mats in there and use it as a tumbling gym?). The kitchen, small, but filled with appliances that made me smile, and tons of cabinets which is the one thing I don't currently have. It was nice to imagine all of the trinkets my mother's given me over the past 6 years in their own place; the crock pot, the rice cooker; the Magic Bullet, the list goes on. There was room for all of them and more.

Tomorrow's appointment is to see another huge place, that's also got a huge ticket attached to it. We shall see, as the quest begins.