I hope to get on one more time and post tonight, but I may not have a chance to. My suitcases are packed, we're crossing things off lists...it's almost M-day, guys. Moving day. It's hit me today for really the first time--I'm moving. Almost 2,000 miles away. A new, unknown city, a very unknown life. Up until now I've been more excited than anything else but today, I've been near tears constantly, thinking, reminiscing. I almost cried when I took Damien's keys off my key ring. I'm leaving him behind--no sense in driving him up there and having to pay for parking in a city filled with cabs and a subway.

I've been hesitant to sleep in my bed the last several nights, so I haven't. I don't know why. Tonight I will, but it's a very weird and very surreal feeling that This is no longer my room, my space even though of course it is. So much of me is still in this room. My happy yellow walls, posters and pictures on the wall, books everywhere even though I've already shipped so many of them up. It's very, very weird.

Tomorrow at this time I'll be in a hotel in my new city, missing D. so badly, missing Max and Lula, missing my sister. I'll be leaving tomorrow on a flight that leaves at 6:30 a.m., leaving my hometown and everything I hold dear and foraging on a new adventure in a new city. New. New. New. New bedspread, new room. New sights, new people, new climate, new everything. Change and I have a love-hate relationship; right now I am wary of Him, but I'm sure that will change soon. Hopefully for the better.

In the meantime, I'm having a Final Supper with family and friends. My favorite dinner--a salad pizza--and games. I won't be back here until late November, and then December after that, and perhaps Easter...but this is my last night truly living here. I doubt I'll be back to stay. I'll come for visits here and there, but tonight I bid my farewell to Texas, to the city in which I was born, the city in which I grew up. I am terribly sad, and excited, and happy, and terrified. I don't know when I'll be able to get on and post again (maybe, maybe tonight), as the internet in the hotel I'll be in is shaky at best. Most likely next time I'll post I'll be in my dorm room, boxes piled up everywhere, the air tinged slightly of an awkward, new, forced sisterhood with my roommates.

Wish me luck, please. I need it.


Today & tomorrow

Here's a little sample of how my day went today, and how it's going to be tomorrow:


Before 10 a.m.: getting medical forms for college filled out, on the phone with drs offices scheduling appointments
10 a.m. run immunization form by my old dr
10:30 a.m. to mall to pick up blue jeans, make up, etc.
1 p.m. lunch
2 p.m. dr appt
3 p.m. run by the phone store to replace my (broken key-d phone), find out I'll have to come back later
3:15 p.m. menengitis shot (woohoo!)
3:35 p.m. back to phone store, find out they actually can't help me and I have to go to a new phone store that takes me 20 minutes to find
4:10 p.m. new phone store, they tell me it'll take 20 minutes to replace the phone & add in all my contacts
5:10 p.m. I go back up to the counter, they tell me it'll be 20 more minutes (GRRR)
5:35 p.m. I finally walk out of the phone store, new phone in hand
6 p.m. to D.'s, where we watch Bill Clinton's speech (awesome, almost as good as Hillary's yesterday. Have I mentioned how much I love them lately? I so wish Hillary had gotten the nomination...though I would vote for Michelle Obama for prez too.) and make t-shirts for D.'s brother's football game tomorrow.

Got all that? that's THREE different doctors, TWO phone stores, ONE mall and a partrige in a pear tree.


9 a.m. try on new jeans and clothes to figure out what needs to be tailored
9:20 a.m. leave for eye doctor
11:30 a.m. run to tailor & grocery store to pick up Texas-shaped tortilla chips for my roommates
1 p.m. have to be home to let people in for a photo shoot (don't ask)
1:30 more clothes blah
2 p.m. finish getting stuff together for the new person replacing me as an administrative assistant
after that--copius amounts of laundry & finishing stupid summer reading
4 p.m. leave for D.'s brother's football game
5 p.m. football game.

and then there's packing.



I'm shamelessly stealing this from several other blogs but it cracks me up. It's a tad inappropriate, but hey--it's all good.

Michael Phelps, the beginning:

P.S. Packing, running last-minute errands, etc. I'm pretty sure I'm wayyyyyy bringing too much stuff, but I'm reasoning that it's better to bring too MUCH stuff than not enough. Right now I'm trying to figure out where I'm going to fit 61 lbs of books between my bed, dresser, armoire and desk. That's all the space I've got.


Pickled jalepenos and a pair of Daisy Dukes

Today I breakfasted at a fabulous little dive called Mecca. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't pass FDA regulations, but nonetheless, the food was delicious. I'm pretty sure there aren't very many of those kinds of places up north. And I'm pretty sure I won't run into a man who has almost as many teeth as fingers waiting on the next table over saying, "Kin'ah git y'all ladies sumthin' t'drink?" (Sound it out, it's fun to say out loud...)

Also, readers, I need your ideas. I'm trying to think up something clever and stereotypically Texan to bring for my roommates as little presents. Something inexpensive yet funny, I don't know. Do y'all have any suggestions?

P.S. It's almost midnight when I write this, so I'm going to count this as tomorrow: 5 days.

Five DAYS.


The joy of a purple suitcase!

Is bringing 61 lbs (pounds) worth of books to college a bit excessive?

Nah, I didn't think so either.



I said goodbye to the girls.

I saw them and oh...my heart was full with love for these two sweet girls. It was worth all the stress, anxiety and worrying that happened along the way!

I spoke with Mrs. R. a few times on the phone working out logistics. She was lovely and sweet, and for a while I forgot all about why I hated her. She was going to be out of town so Mr. R. would be bringing the girls to meet me at the local mall, where we'd go for ice cream and look around while Mr. R. sat in Starbucks nearby.

I have to admit--I was nervous, but not as nervous as I thought I would be. I felt like something was pressing "calm, calm, calm," down upon my shoulders and it worked. My heart was thumping pretty darn hard, but I felt inwardly that everything was going to be okay. And it was.

I wasn't sure how they would react when they first saw me. I suspected A. might be a little shy at first, and E. wouldn't want to hug me. But I was wrong! Both girls enveloped me in hugs. It was amazing. They were so happy to see me...I was shaking and trying not to cry as they bombarded me with love and "Nanny guess what!", "Nanny look at this!", and "I missed you, Nanny!"

A. has grown a little taller and she's losing her chubby baby fat. Her face looks older. E. has grown a TON and looks just the same. Mr. R. and I danced awkwardly and politely around the large elephant in the room, promised to meet up again in an hour and a half, and the girls and I were on our way.

Both girls chattered the whole time. I was in heaven, catching up on their lives and what's been happening with them. I won't go into some of the family details (one of which surprised me; the other I expected), but I was pleasantly surprised to find out that Mrs. R. has been spending more time with the girls. She actually painted both of their nails the other day rather than sending them with Mr. R. to get a manicure/pedicure, as she used to do. Both girls seemed happy and healthy, and estactic to see me. That was the best part of all.

We went to a few toy stores and I bought them each a present, sucker that I am. We talked and talked, and it felt just like old times, like I'd never left. This was just another day, except that today I'd hand them back to their father and not see them again for a long, long time. (Never?)

At the end of the visit, I gave them each envelopes with my school address on them so they could write me. I hope they do. I just keep thinking that all these months of not seeing me and they both remembered so much. I hope they continue to remember me. Because I'll never stop thinking of them!

P.S. I took down a few of my archived posts of the R's, just because I'm still paranoid they'll find me. If you're new to my blog and want to read about them, just e-mail me.


Yeah, you can hate me

Upon further talks with my roommates, I discovered that I am just about the luckiest girl in the entire world.


My roommate from Connecticut, Becca, is bringing the following (and my roommate from New York, Alex, and I are welcome to use these anytime):

1) A flat screen TV with built-in DVD player
2) A microwave
3) A printer/copier
4) An iron/ironing board
5) A large, colorful rug.

Seriously? That's awesome. Like. I don't even have a flat screen in my entire HOUSE and yet I'm going to have one in my dorm room. Too cool for school, y'all.

Also, I need y'all to weigh in on The Great Debate of 2008. I bought a comforter for my dorm room that I absolutely LOVE. Love love LOVE. However, everybody (except D.) hates it. They all say it's ugly. But I love it! So I'm gonna let y'all give me your input.

Here it is:

Yes. Those are OWLS. How freaking cool is that???

So you can leave your answers in the comments section, if you so desire. Whaddya say? Love it or hate it?


So many stories all for you

I think pupster Max can, on some levels, tell I'm leaving soon. He's become my shadow recently, following closely on my heels and demanding more than the usual amout of attention. I think he can tell in some form of puppy subconscious that I am slowly, almost without my own knowledge, pulling away.

I am so sad to leave here, especially D., but I am excited to go. I've talked now extensively with both of my roommates and I like them well enough. I'll grow to like them even more once I'm up there, I think. We're working out kinks and logistics like "Who's bringing the refrigerator?", and "Who's got the TV?" It's a weird, foreign life to which I am moving, a life into which I will be plunging headfirst come August 30.

But I will leave a large part of myself here, down in the south, where people say "y'all" and 99% of my friends are conservative. I'll leave a part of myself in D., my best friend in the entire world. I'll leave a part of myself in pupster Max and sweet Lulabelle (who can now say "A bird in the hand is smarter than George Bush"). I'll bury a chunk of me in my bedroom, surrounded by so many books that I want to take but don't have the room for. And Damien? My wild stallion of a Volvo with his out-of-place liberal bumper stickers? Oh, I'll miss him, too.

And the thought of being almost 2,000 miles away from my immediate family...I am nervous, but excited. I know I'm ready.

13 days.


I <3 Olympics

Ahhhh...I love the Olympics. After watching Nastia and Shawn tonight, I had goosebumps AND the chills. I mean, can you even imagine???

It almost motivated me enough to start taking gymnastics myself so that I can prepare for the 2012 Olympics.


Not unlike when I saw Freaky Friday (the LiLo version) and immediately wanted to go out and form a band.

I get swept up in things easily. Can you tell?


A bit of mid-drama humor

What kind of bees make milk?


And if quizzes are quizzical, what are tests?

(I'll let y'all figure that one out yourselves.)

P.S. WOOOOHOOOOOO NASTIA & SHAWN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Well, I called Dr. C. and asked her to fit me in tomorrow, but tomorrow's her day off. Instead, we talked on the phone for a while about everything. In the end, she encouraged me to just call Mrs. R. and acknowledge the phone call, and ask for a few days to think about everything since I've just gotten back in town. I knew Mrs. R. wouldn't be happy, but I aquiesced.

Here's how the phone call went down:

Mrs. R.: Hello?
Me: Hi, Mrs. R., it's Nanny.
Mrs. R.: Hi.
Me: I got your message, and I was wondering if I could just have a few days to think about everything. I just got back into town.
Mrs. R.: Well, A.'s just been asking about you a lot. And wondering if she could see you.
Me: Yeah. I just need a few days and I'll call you about this.
Mrs. R. (in a ruder tone): Well, if it's going to be a big thing than just say no!
Me: I just need a few days to think. And I'll call you then.
Mrs. R.: Well, okay. Just give me some notice if you're going to say no so I can prepare A.
Me: Thanks.
Mrs. R.: Bye.

And that was it. Pretty much as I expected. It was weird, and a bit surreal, to hear her voice again after so long. It's just...blah. That just about sums everything up. Blah.

I'm relieved the call is over, and after I've talked more to Dr. C. on Friday morning I'll update you guys. In the meantime, I'm watching the Olympics and reading "Cold Mountain" for the third time. If I ever have a daughter, I want to name her after Ruby Thewes!

The dreaded call

I knew it would happen sooner or later. And yet, I am thrown completely off-guard. Completely. I knew that at some point, I'd have to run into the R.'s somewhere. But since it's been 6 months of nothing, no contact whatsoever, I naively thought I was in the clear. 2.5 weeks until I move away, months of searching for closure and finally attaining some of it...and the wounds have been ripped open again.

I didn't run into them...but Mrs. R. called me a few minutes ago.

I don't have her number programmed into my cell phone anymore. But I did still recognize it--I memorized it long ago just in case anything ever happened with one of the girls. When it popped up on my screen this afternoon, my heart stopped. I didn't answer. But a feeling of dread, of panic, of anxiety, flooded me.

She left a message. I knew she would. I knew what was coming. Have I left for school? A. has been asking for me often. She wants to know if I'm going to say goodbye to her before I go. Mrs. R. did say that I didn't have to call her back, but if I wanted to...she left her number.

As I was listening to the message, I was struck by her tone. I couldn't read it, exactly. Was there a hint of embarrassment? Shame? Or was she dreading the call as much as I was? I couldn't tell.

I'm going to be honest with you guys. I do not want to see them before I go.

I don't.

I don't.

I don't.

And (terribly, I know) I am questioning whether or not Mrs. R. was lying on that message. Probably not. I don't know. All I know is that whatever peace I had made with the whole R. situation has been broken. If I don't call her back, I'll feel so guilty. If I do...what do I say? I'm so sorry, but I don't want to deal with this anymore? That it's been hurting me for the past 8 months (since I gave my notice) and I'm finally, with the help of a psychologist, getting a hell of a lot better? That I'm still very, very angry with her?

But the thought of my sweet baby A. asking for me...overwhelms me. I want to cry. I am kind of shocked that Mr. and Mrs. R. didn't just lie to her and tell her I had gone away.

I don't want to deal with this. Part of me is screaming You've got way to much on your plate right now to worry about this more--moving, leaving people, anxiety already--it's just not worth it!. Part of me is screaming You need to step up and do the right thing--to say goodbye to the girls. It's not about you. Do what's best for them. Part of me is screaming How do I know this is best for them? How do I know this won't hurt them as much as it has me? but part of me also knows that's not true.

I don't know.

I have a fierce urge to scream profanities, rip out my hair and not call her back.

I would like to talk to Dr. C. about this, but my next appointment with her isn't until Friday. And I don't want to neglect Mrs. R.'s message.

This hurts...so badly. I wish D. were here. But she's on a trip and won't be back until late Friday night.

New look! Woohoo!

How do y'all like my new look? I LOVE IT! Andi @ Scrappin Blog Designs (see button on the left column) did it for me, just like she created my header last time. If y'all need a blog makeover, talk to her! She's so nice and willing to accomodate all of your (actually, my) picky requests. Thanks again, Andi!!!



I don't think I've posted about this, but I've been out of town for the past week. Today, flying home, I was seated in the exit row. The flight attendent asked (per policy) if I was able and willing to assist with the door if need be, blah blah blah. Yes. I was.

She looked me up and down and paused.

"Are you over the age of 15?"

Yes. Thank you. I am over the age of 15. Pretty far over the age of 15. Normally I can count on my boobs to age me a bit, but they were covered up with a blanket.

At least she didn't think I was 40...


Impatient, impatient

I feel like I should be packing now. Packing to move away, even though I'm not leaving for another 20 days. I'm anxious to start, simultaneously nervous and excited to leave.

Right now I'm having dorky debates in my head: Two copies of "The Time Traveler's Wife" or one? Should I bring my own set of Harry Potter books? Will they laugh at me if I take my Sims 2 CD?


Am I insane to try to buy everything once I move up there? Everything being warm clothes (I have some, but need more), boots, bedding, storage, everything for my room...I keep a running list of small things I know I'll forget, like toenail clippers, too. I've "met" both my roommates and they both seem nice. They're slow to respond to e-mails/Facebook messages, though, which drives me crazy because I am impatient and want to know everything about them. I suggested we either have a 3-way chat or video chat over IM soon so we can really talk. That was four days ago. No response from either one of them. Have I mentioned I'm impatient, people?


Have I mentioned lately how much of a (to borrow someone else's word) fucktard I think John McCain is? I mean, really. His stupid commercials--FULL of lies, by the way--are ruining an otherwise amazing Olympics.


I need to add bobby pins to my list.


I have discovered that I love. LOVE. to do laundry. I don't know how long that'll last, but I'm enjoying it for the time being.


20 days!



Can I just say that the opening ceremonies tonight were pretty fucking unbelievable? I mean...unbeLIEVABLE. I think my jaw was on the floor the entire time.

I love the Olympics.


Coming clean

Knock on wood that I'm not jinxing myself and make yourselves comfortable, y'all, cause this one's gonna be a LONG one!

Remember this? Almost a month later, I'm finally about all better. I was kinda vague with y'all about everything so I'm going to spill now.

SO. Approximately (well, almost exactly) two months ago, I came down with a nasty bout of what we thought had to be salmonella. It was gross and no fun, but passed in about a week. I was tested for salmonella but the tests were negative, so we chalked it up to just a random virus.

A few days after that, one night, I came down with horrible stomach pains. That's what lead to this day. Collitis was the diagnosis. The antibiotics they gave me for it ripped my stomach apart and left me so nauseated and sleep-deprived that I didn't eat or sleep for almost four straight days. Finally, in desperation, I paged the on-call doc and begged for relief.

Oh, that relief came. Sweet, sweet relief in the form of a little white pill. It took away my nausea and knocked me out. As long as I was on the pill (which I was, constantly, for almost 4 days straight and then sporadically after that), I was okay. So I survived that week.

The next week, D. was going out of town again, this time for 2 weeks. I was once again dog sitting for her three amazing dogs, staying overnight in her house.

I made it through the first night okay. I had some anxiety (which I tend to have when sleeping alone), but managed everything okay. But the next day? Was bad. I felt very anxious and couldn't figure out why. On top of that, my bathroom issues were returning as was the familiar collitis-induced stomach pain. My illness was supposed to be over, so why wasn't it going away?!?

I had a friend stay with me for the next several nights just so I wouldn't be alone. But each day things got worse. I felt like I was drowning under anxiety attack after anxiety attack. I'd never had those before, so they were very foreign and very scary. I was getting sicker and sicker with nausea and bathroom issues, and I lost 6 lbs in about 3 days. It was absolutely horrible. Usually when I'm scared or upset, I talk to my Xanax, but my Xanax was in Europe and could only e-mail once a day. Plus, I didn't want to worry her too much, so I didn't tell her much of what was going on.

I tried to find the root of my anxiety. Since someone was sleeping over, it wasn't the usual fear of someone breaking in. It was more that I was just getting sicker and sicker again, and we couldn't figure out why. I went to my doctor again a week after D. left. She was very concerned (which, of course, caused more anxiety) about why I wasn't getting better, but she chalked up most of the nausea and bathroom issues to exaggerated anxiety.

Which, of course, didn't help my ANXIETY.

The days passed and I just got worse. The only times I felt a little relief was at night when I'd walk the dogs. I felt better then, and would have walked them all day long except I was so busy.

Finally, a week and a half into dog sitting, I just snapped. I was crying and blubbering and just couldn't control myself. That afternoon I went to see Dr. C., a psychologist. I cried during the entire meeting--I just couldn't stop. A lot of grief over A. and E. trudged up in that meeting, interestingly enough.

Dr. C. sat with me for an hour and listened as I cried. At the end of the appointment, she led me through some breathing and relaxation exercises, which I liked, and instructed me to go out and buy a relaxation CD. I left the appointment chewing on a piece of chocolate she gave me (which really is the best medicine) and feeling better. Hopeful that I could get the anxiety under control.

I saw Dr. C. again two days later. In the interim time, my anxiety had subsided a lot. I'm a person who likes to have things IN CONTROL, and my mind was out of control and I couldn't get it back into shape. Just knowing that I was on the way to that with Dr. C.'s help was an extreme relief. I slept a bit better and didn't cry at all at our next appointment.

Finally D. came home. Honestly? The woman is the best friend anyone could ask for. She hugged me and listened to me and said exactly the right things to comfort me. I felt so much better, too, having her home.

A few weeks after that my stomach issues finally started to go away. I began fully eating normally again and just hoped everything was behind me. Now, after more testing, though, we think in addition to collitis I also had a parasite (which GROSSED me out to no END)--which, ironically, the collitis antibiotic helped partially get rid of and eventually passed on its own.

So there you have it. Physically, mentally, emotionally...I am so much better than I have been these past two months. It was really, really rough for a while there. But I'm out on the other side.

P.S. 23 days.


Recent randomness

Oh, people of the world, I do so enjoy the google searches that bring you to my blog...so without further ado, here are my favorite (recent) top 10 random google searches.

#10: "My name is fish online"

#9: "Purple green beans" (I've actually had THREE different searches for this from THREE different locations. Am I missing something here, people???)

#8: "Who'd Thought It, Texas"

#7: "Nanny guy fish" (also got one for Nanny m Phee (assuming they meant Nanny McPhee?)

#6: "Nanny nightmare"

#5: "Bandaids that hurt when you take them off" (???)

#4: "Marriage equals a fork and a spoon" (uh...somebody's got some 'splainin to do)

#3: "What makes purple green beans purple" (which is separate from the THREE sent my way via 'purple green beans')

#2: "I like to spoon after I fork bumper sticker" (a special prize to anybody who can explain THAT one)

aaaaannnnnd...my personal favorite...my number one favorite recent google search iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis (and this is a direct copy & paste, I swear)...

#1: "gilm k´´´´´´´´´´´´´´´´´´´´´´´´´´´m mmmmmm"

Okay. So I've devoted several minutes to thinking about this most recent #1 random google search, and I've come to the conclusion to that it was either written by:

a) a baby
b) a drunk
c) a drunk baby.

What do you guys think?



One-oh-eight degrees.
My car's air conditioning