The Big Move

I'm finally making the move to shack up with Boyfriend. It's been a long time coming, yet it seems like it's all happening really fast. But even though it means a lot of change and a certain amount of sacrifice, it's a good decision.

So since I have some time to do the actual moving, and my new landlord is nice enough to let me move in slowly, my goal is to do one moving thing a day. Today I packed up some books to give away and cleaned up my small bookshelf. I never buy books (too cheap), yet somehow I have tons of them. Same with clothes. And furniture. Seriously, where did all this crap come from?

Look At Me

Today, for the first time, Boyfriend and I took his recently restored classic truck to town and really hung out near a bunch of people. Typically, we both drive silver sedans that are almost indistinguishable from hundreds of other vehicles.

It's different being in an attention-getting car. People stare as you drive by - not meanly, just curiously. And when I wave, they seldom wave back ... they're too busy checking out the wheels. Then when we get out, people want to look at the truck and talk about the truck. I am almost completely unqualified to talk about the truck, but since I'm smoother with strangers in general I do my best.

But overall, it's kind of a special feeling to have people look at something you've worked hard at. And it gives me a general sense of community, though we're far from active in the classic car circuit. It's a subtle way to get attention ... subtlety isn't usually my friend, but I sort of like it.

Frozen

If I could freeze time, I would consider doing it right now.

Why?

Because my bangs are perfect. They have a very short time between being too short (short bangs on me look like forehead parenthesis) and hanging in my eyes, and today is the day. Overall hair is good.

And I tried on a dress that used to be too small, and it looks fantastic on me. It's about a month until its big debut. Maybe perfect bangs and dress will de-emphasize the fact that I am the spinster sister.

Or maybe the fact that I am drunk will de-emphasize that.

White Skin Privilege

So I'm full-on ginger: red hair, pale skin, blue eyes, freckles, the whole thing. Generally, I like the distinctiveness of the red hair, and I don't mind the overall effect.

Yesterday, I biked a little over 10 miles. Walked around, looked at cars, chatted, ate a hot dog. Came home, and my face is all gritty so I decide to wash it. I rub a wet washcloth on my face, and I look at the cloth and noticed I there is quite a bit of rubbed-off sunscreen. So clearly I adequately applied. Yet my nose is distinctly pink. Sigh. Seems a girl can't win.

And let's not even talk about the burn on the back of my hands, which is ridiculous.

Skillz

Something I wanted to do this year was increase my practical fun skills. Then when the revolution or the apocalypse comes, I will be able to do something besides be silly and good at remembering mnemonic devices (two skills I currently have). Yet I sadly lack the patience to really master most practical skills: sewing, cooking, gardening, home repair, small engine repair, hunting, fishing, running ... all things I am not good at.

After the apocalypse, can I live with you? I can sort of do a lot of things. I am good at spelling, playing with small children, nail filing, laundry, and a host of other things. Plus, I am good company.

Surprise!

Today was the first surprise party I ever planned. And it was a success! Guest of honor was happy and surprised, food was fabulous, entertainment was adequate, good times all around. I feel good about that.

Got to see a former co-worker and friend this weekend. More good times.

Was in a parade last week (and decided that made me a princess).

And even though it's totally hot, I'm not sunburned. So overall, all is well in Julietland.

And my plan for this weekend is to try a Hungry Girl breakfast recipe (it is becoming apparent I can't eat cereal every day). Any suggestions?

This is an excerpt from an essay I wrote in college. It seems appropriate considering recent events.

...
For years I have tried to imagine a scenario where I forgave you. I couldn’t think of one. And now, hearing you speak, I realize I was right, there is nothing you can say that will make any difference to me.
You can’t say you’re sorry. That would be too little too late. You can’t promise to make it up and do a better job in the future. I don’t think there will be a future. You can’t say anything, because I don’t believe you and I don’t care.
...
I remember the sweater you got me for my birthday when I was about eight. It was purple and had flowers across the chest, and it was beautiful. I was so proud of it, and I wore it all the time. I showed everyone the wonderful sweater you had given me for my birthday, because you loved me and you weren’t poor. I didn’t know why Mom was so upset about the sweater. I didn’t know then that you deducted the cost of my birthday “gift” and the other things you bought us from the child support you so seldom paid. About that same time, I realized why we were poor and I couldn’t have the things I wanted that my friends had.
...