‘I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it; I’m crawling on your shores’

I don’t know if it’s that I’m between jobs or that I actually had some mind-blowing action this week, but my Twitter feed today is reading like something out of, well, a novel that I would write!

Today was moving day. My shit is now en route to Florida. I slept 90 minutes last night after no sleep Wednesday night. (But for more-interesting reasons, natch.) And hallelujah, I was ready when the movers got here at the dot of eight.

I had a nervous breakdown, at least in my head, when they said my shit will be delivered Monday. Um, I was planning to start driving on Monday. START DRIVING. As in, arrive Wednesday to be there for Thursday, the date of the original estimate. Since it took a fucking WEEK for my shit to get from Pittsburgh to D.C. (400 miles) and, holy crap, it is only taking two fucking days to go 1,000-ish miles from D.C. to Miami. LORD.

My breakdown came in the form of, “How will I see all the friends I’ve made plans with?” In particular, the last person I was planning to see on my way out. I’m not saying any goodbyes, but I’ve got to get my “see you laters” in there. And this is an important one. They all are, really. But since I don’t have time to see everyone, I had to make sure to prioritize appropriately.

So anyway, I’m going Sunday. Cats and all. And mom too. Fuq me running on that one. I truly think she will thrive down there, but I don’t know how much more togetherness I can really take.

I think we’ve got things juggled so that I have four “dates” in the next day and a quarter. Which, it’s sad how I had to quit my job in order to get my social life back. I even went out on Paddy’s Day! You know where I would have been on a normal Tuesday night? Guess … AT WORK.

Anywho, so this day started off with me having my big ol’ suitcase o’ dildos open (remember, I was a vibrator peddler. And I own the merchandise, so I have a nice selection) when the movers did their walk-through. I’m too tired to be humiliated at this point. 🙂

But then, I finally decided to part with the “Where the Boys Aren’t” movie that Chris gave me a hundred years ago. We’ve had a lot of fun together. 🙂 But since I can’t watch a porn with Mommy around, let alone get laid in the space I’m fucking paying for because we share a fucking wall, I figured I’d say goodbye to my movie.

And I remembered why I don’t do anything in my own house anymore (because somebody doesn’t know how to knock and wait for an answer), I threw the video in the trash and she FOUND IT because she was going through my trash for something or another.

I know most people are horrified at my living situation on principle alone. But it’s this extra shit that just makes it all so very, very wrong.

(And don’t get me started on how she won’t learn how to build a box — the things I spent over $200 buying — or load a tape gun AND how I was ordered to tape all her boxes shut. AT 3 A.M LAST NIGHT, PEOPLE.)

Whew. *decompressing*

Let’s see, we’ve covered sex toys and girl-on-girl porn. What else can we talk about today? Ah, BOOBS!

Tom put up a photo of the new ceiling rack he installed for pots and pans. I went for the obvious “Nice Rack” comment. And basically whined that I shouldn’t be the one giving that kind of compliment. 😉

Speaking of all things sexual, this photo is of my purse. Yep, shameless hussy am I, with an iPod and enough protection to shrink-wrap a loveseat. Scott had said that, for an iPod sans case, that’s one protected MP3 player. Ha!

I have been all happy-go-lucky and shit, in between stress episodes. But as I waited FOUR HOURS FOR A FUCKING OIL CHANGE today, I listened to one of the playlists on this ‘Pod.

A friend and I did an exchange, and BOY the memories attached to some of those songs left me all kinds of “whee!” and “holy shit!” and “aaah” and “uh?” all at the same time. But one thing we agree on is that music is life, and if it isn’t evoking some kind of strong emotional and maybe even PHYSICAL reaction, it ain’t worth listening to.

I guess I’m just shocked and pleased how instantly our friendship developed, and how intense it was as well. I mean, like, knock off a girl’s frog socks in retrospect on how easily it all came together. One wonders how you’ve known someone five years but never really realized how cool they were until it was almost too late.

But the magic is leaving it on pause. Not the music, but the impulse to let your mind go too far back. That’s where I have trouble. That’s where I always start to wonder. But I’m invoking Goddess 1.0 (what are we on now, v4 or v5?) long enough to know how to seize the day and look back with only fondess and no wonder other than at the serendipity of it all.

Anyway, I still have some crap to deal with before I depart. I can’t trust anyone (roomie *cough cough*) to cancel the cable/Internet so I have to figure that out. She wants to drive at the same time I do, even though this palace is paid for through the 4th. I really wanted to get there first and just enjoy the place and not feel like it’s another shotgun wedding, like getting this place was because I knew I was inheriting her. At least I got a couple of months on my own, though.

Oh well. I gave her a strict plan and my get out of jail free card is a one-way ticket to Pittsburgh.

But for what it’s costing me to transport her 37 boxes of Halloween and Valentine’s decorations 1,000 miles, imagine the check I’ll write out for 1,400 miles. But no doubt, it will be worth every penny and then some. ….

2 Responses to ‘I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it; I’m crawling on your shores’

  1. Lachlan :

    I’m glad you laid out a plan- hold her to it, darlin’. You need your life back. I love you- be safe and have good travels.

  2. chris :

    Where the boys aren’t….

    Holy Shit.

    Tell ya what. Give me your new addy, I’ll get you a dvd copy of something better.
    Plus, they’re easier to hide 🙂