Bitsy and I had spoken yesterday afternoon about potentially going and then, after careful consideration (read: checking the TV guide), decided that another night would be favorable.
Around 7:00 I received a call from my dear friend, practically in tears. Her new upstairs neighbors thought that it might be a good idea to play the soundtrack from Grease over and over again. Now, we love Grease. We do! but, as Bitsy put it, "You can only ra-ma la-ma la-ma ka dinga kading-a-dong so many times!" In an effort to salvage what little sanity she has left, we went to the movies.
I really enjoyed the movie! It was really very cute! Natch, Nikki Kidman was just perfect, but isn't she always? She's charming and witty and beautiful and probably thanking her lucky stars that she and Tom separated before he went completely over the edge (Katie, sweetie, you're in my prayers every night)!
The absolute highlight of the movie for me, though, was seeing Kristen Chenoweth on the big screen! She was insanely funny! I heard that, after seeing Kristen in a performance of Wicked, Nicole approached her and told her that she enjoyed her portrayal of Galinda/Glinda so much that she would have a role created for her in the Bewitched movie. What a smart girl Ms. Kidman is!
For the record, Bitsy arrived home to find the sounds of Rydell High still emanating from above. I'm sure Tears on my Pillow took on a whole new meaning.
It's very noisy up there, there are a lot of things swimming around, and you just know that those bubbles aren't coming from the air filter.
(Okay, analogies aren't my thing. So shoot me.)
It's true, though. Just over 6 weeks until the move and I can already feel the slow but gradual degradation of my psyche beginning. It happens every time I move, so it won't be anything new for me. Clearly, it doesn't get any easier. I think Bitsy summed it up quite nicely in an email this morning:
"You can do it, all you have to do (besides pack up your life yet AGAIN, move to the opposite coast, prepare yourself for school, prepare yourself to take care of [J], prepare yourself to say goodbye to your family as you've known it your whole life, and leave me here to slowly diminish into a pile of the typical Lynn poor grammar street trash) is focus on what is to come!"
Yep! That's all I have to do!
Obviously, I'm excited to go. That part's not worth talking about (right now). A part of me, though, is beyond scared. What if I'm making the largest, most asinine decision of my life? Don't get me wrong - I love him. And I know that he loves me (something I couldn't have said 6 months ago). He's just - well, so many things. He's not easy. That's probably the most succinct way of putting it. I think I love him more because of that, though. There's something heroic about it, I think. Love against all odds.
He tells me that he wants to spend the rest of his life with me. I'm at the point now where I can say the same to him. Unfortunately, the math doesn't add up. As things stand, the rest of his life isn't going to be the rest of my life. Let's say he has 15 years. That would make me 38. 38 is still young! I might have to start my life over at 38. This worries me.
Granted, these worries could be all for naught. Medical discoveries are made every day. Additionally, another 15 years probably feels miraculous to a man that was originally given 6 months.
Also, there's the part about saying goodbye to my family as I've known it. I don't think that part's really hit me yet. It will, though. Probably when my parents' divorce actually comes to fruition. It's just pretty miserable in my house right now. Absolutely no one wants to be there. There's a lot of negative energy flowing and it's affecting us all. Mostly, I worry about Mother. I know that she's going to be happy and that she'll finally be able to live the life that she deserves, but it's not easy for her. I know how much it hurt when my 1-year relationship ended. I couldn't imagine that times 28.
And, to top it all off, a baby bird died in my backyard yesterday! It's just all too much for me to handle right now! I think it's time to pull the cover over the pool, lock the gate, and call it a day.
No. Really. It smells like actual human excrement. I know that I'm known to hyperbolize. I know that I can be dramatic and that, sometimes, I make things out to be far worse than they really are. This is not one of those times. This soap smells so much like poop, in fact, that I'm not entirely convinced that the manufacturer of the soap didn't go out of its way to make it smell like poop. I'm not happy about it.
A woman called in this morning. I'd like to share with you now a transcript of that phone call.
Me: Good morning, circulation, this is Taylor.
Ms. Adler: I DON'T KNOW IF I HAVE THE RIGHT DEPARTMENT BUT IF I DON'T THEN JUST TRANSFER ME AND I'LL STOP TALKING AND START OVER AGAIN I AM HARD OF HEARING YOU SEE AND MY NAME IS (muffle muffle muffle) AND I LIVE AT (muffle muffle muffle) APARTMENT C7 AND I DID NOT GET MY PAPER TODAY I USUALLY GET MY PAPER AT SIX AM BUT I DID NOT GET IT TODAY MY NAME IS (muffle muffle) AM I GOING TO GET MY PAPER TODAY I AM HARD OF HEARING YOU SEE SO JUST SAY YES OR NO AM I GOING TO GET MY PAPER TODAY?
Me: Um. What's your address?
Ms. Adler: I AM HARD OF HEARING YOU SEE JUST SAY YES OR NO.
Me: What's your address?? I didn't hear you.
Ms. Adler: I DIDN'T GET MY PAPER TODAY I USUALLY GET IT BY 6 AM.
Me: What's your address???
Ms. Adler: JUST SAY YES OR NO I'M HARD OF HEARING YOU SEE.
Me: NO!
I <3 my job.