Well, hello there! I had made the blog private for a bit after getting an email that referenced the blog. I wondered if I was making a mistake by revealing so much of myself but then realized, Hey! If someone doesn’t like what I have to say, that’s his or her problem and (presumably) no one is being forced to read here. So, thanks for the advice not to “be so fuckin mean” firstname.lastname@example.org. But I think I’ll just keep on proceeding as usual. I make it a point not to take advice from anyone still using a hotmail account, who can’t be bothered to employ proper grammar, punctuation, and spelling in his or her emails, and who doesn’t seem to grasp the irony that sending a message to a stranger for the sole purpose of calling her “bitter” and “so fuckin mean” might actually BE mean.
I gave notice at my job yesterday and start a new gig in the Bay Area on October 6th. I am exceedingly excited about this new opportunity and that the plans and goals we set out to accomplish by the end of the year are coming together beautifully. That’s…probably all I’ll be saying about the new job here. I don’t want to Dooce this up before I even start, you know?
I told Ed in January that 2014 was going to be our year and, while there’s been a lot of hard work and sacrifice and sleepless nights and freakouts, it’s a huge relief to see it pay off. Our weekends have been full of packing, purging, fixing little things around the house, and other sundry errands and we have yet to kill each other yet so I’m calling this project a win.
We have taken a few trips to scout out possible places to live and, thankfully, found several where we can envision ourselves and Molly being at home. I’ve been amusing myself by pretending we’re on House Hunters as we look at places and comment on various features. “Ooh, granite counter tops! I like the open floor plan!” The poor leasing agents think I’m being serious and engage with me as Ed rolls his eyes and/or shoots me “Can you be an adult for five minutes here?” looks. Hey, I need to find a way to make this process less tedious because after four places? They all blend together. Let me have this, Ed. I ask for so little!
So, to sum up: new job, the move is ON, and we are going to be homeless soon unless we pull the trigger and sign a lease once I can stop acting like a goofball. Fall is off to a great start.
During a rare morning snuggle with Bubba:
“I’m writing a book. I’m going to write about your wedding.”
“You are? That’s so cool! What are you going to write about the wedding?”
“Sissy, it’s a personal narrative. It’s about me this time. Not you.”
That responding, “I’m sorry” when someone tells you you’re moving to *any given place that this person deems unappealing* that you’re being a dick? Because that serves no purpose other than making you look like a jerk who not only cannot and/or will not be positive about someone else’s news, but also must try to make that person actively feel bad. It also pretty much confirms my sometimes-unfair-and-stereotypical view about “small town, small minds” so good going.
Mostly I’m annoyed that I didn’t have the idea to respond, “It’s OK. It means I won’t live near assholes like you anymore!” until right this moment. Zing!
Ed: “What’s under our bed?”
Me: “Some purses and my wedding dress. Should we take it? I don’t want to store it, but it’s not like I’ll need it. I can’t believe I let my mom talk me into boxing it up and keeping it.”
Ed: “Oh yeah, I guess we’re not going to pass it on to anyone. Keep it. Maybe you’ll give it to Bubba.”
Me: “Why would I give my brother my wedding dress?”
Ed: “I didn’t say it was a sound idea.”
As I annoyingly alluded to to a few weeks ago, there are some fabulous new developments in CKDLand:
1.) Ed got an exciting, challenging, extremely well-deserved promotion at work which means
2.) We are moving back to the Bay Area, where his home office is located.
After a crappy year of disappointing news we decided to take some matters into our own hands. Namely: figuring out where we wanted to be both literally and figuratively. After talking about how our future was going to look differently than we had imagined at the beginning of 2013, we re-focused our energy on other goals. It became clear rather quickly that moving away would be necessary to accomplish much of what we wanted. Not because life here is so horrible, no. I mean, it would be a million times easier to stay put and coast. But we’re both in a place where we’re ready for some creative challenges and change. As sad as it will be to leave this house – where we got engaged and hosted our first Christmas as a married couple and created zillions of wonderful memories as a family – my home is with Ed and Molly. There are new memories waiting for us in a new place. And I cannot wait to get there.
Aside from locating a place to live, my number one mission is finding myself some gainful employment. So if you know of anyone looking to hire a smart ass who smells really good and is excellent at clearing paper jams in the copier, let me know.
My wise stepmom once told me that it’s common for people to revert back to their old, familiar childhood roles when gathered with family for any extended period of time. If this is true, there’s a decent chance my 33 year-old cousin and I will take a swing at each other.* But I don’t think he’s bringing any Matchbox cars so maybe we’re good?
We’re going to my aunt and uncle’s cabin about three hours north of here for the weekend and I cannot wait to unplug, relax, spend most of the day in the pool with Bubba, and have my uncle bring me cocktails. Bliss! Ed has never been and I can’t wait to show him the property. I love that Bubba enjoys it there, too, and that we play tag on the same lawn and eat popsicles on the same deck that my cousins and I did 30 years ago. Of course if I take a swing at him CPS will be called, but I think I’ve learned to handle myself better now. Plus, it’s likely I’ll have a drink in my hand and I don’t want to spill it. Child-on-child beatings aside, I do hope there is some truth to what Judy said because taking a break from adulthood for a day or two sounds perfect right now. If the only things on my to do list are “be in the pool” and “eat something” I’ll be a happy girl.
*My cousin and I actually get along fine and generally did as kids, but every now and then one of us would get impatient with the other one and well…words were not always used.
It’s the sixth anniversary of when I moved to Chico and – lucky you! – started this blog. That was at one of my lowest points personally and professionally and I was convinced, truly, that my life was destined to suck forever. As if I had one shot to have the life I wanted and it didn’t work and NO SOUP FOR YOU. Ridiculous, I know. Obviously that isn’t the case. Within the year I was on my way to this lovely, fun, surprising, not-perfect-but-highly-entertaining life. I try not to take it for granted.
As shitty as I thought 2008 was, 2013 probably trumped it in terms of feeling weighed down by disappointment and heartbreak. Almost like the universe was saying, “Oh, you thought THAT was bad? Ha-HA! We’ve got more for you!” Cheesy as it sounds, you’d think I would have learned by now that sometimes the old “there’s more room in a broken heart” thing is true. Sometimes shit needs to fall apart in order for other new possibilities to make themselves clear. The life you thought you were going to have – supposed to have – isn’t the only way to be happy. And all the good things coming your way wouldn’t have been possible if you had stayed that original course.
Happy, welcome changes are coming (which I promise to share in more detail in due time) and some of them are a little scary and uncertain and we’re not completely in control of everything (anyone who knows what compulsive list-makers and planners we are can just imagine what fun it is in our house right now). But we’re ready and open. Bring it.