Utils in Bat Country

Bizarre

Its bizarre in and of itself that Im writing this on my iPad sitting in the middle of the mall with the Capitol on my left and the wash monument on my right on a gorgeous sunny day. The move went fine, I suppose. So much less than I needed to fit in the car actually fit in the car, saying goodbye to puppy wrenched my lungs out of my body but I expected that. Arrived in bmore, got unloaded, saw my train tickets were missing, flopped into the couch, pulled it together and ran some errands. Got back from the grocery store around 9pm, unloaded, dad had the keys, I thought he locked it, he thought he did but we came out 20 min later to drive the station route and I opened the door and saw all the papers from my glove compartment piled neatly on the drivers seat. The box door had been wedged so I figured dad did it but then he looked confused and it took our (in defense, exhausted) brains awhile to process that neither one of us had done it. Can it really be considered a break in if the car was unlocked? Funny enough, I don't think anything was taken. My ezpass was still there, same with sunglasses, CDs, and car charger. A very polite vagabond? Welcome to the neighborhood hazing? Likely someone just looking for money for drugs and trying to move quickly but eesh. I can't even get 12 hours to try to feel comfortable in the big, bad world? What made me feel better was I was relaying the situation to my aunt because come on now, that's pretty ridiculous and she said the same thing happened to her car while it was sitting in her driveway. And she lives in a pretty affluent suburb. So it's not just me in my new neighborhood. Organized (ha, because they shuffled my papers) crime, indeed.

An odd goodbye

In most moves there's the deliberation of do I actually want to pack, move, and unpack this with each of one's belongings.

I had gone through all my clothes but had forgotten that I had some things in the upstairs closet.  Went up there and happened upon my wedding dress.  Huh. I'm not going to use it, I don't really want to keep it, but I feel bad about throwing it away.  So I'll try and sell it.  I had listed it a few months ago but didn't get any hits and forgot about it.  Lowered the price in a flurry of everything else and forgot about that.  Got an email last week inquiring about it and was able to sell it.  For 2/3 less than it cost.  Ouch.  But something's pretty than total loss so into a box it went.

I've been pretty divorced (ha) from the idea of that wedding for years but it was still a pull of nostalgia for what could have been.  But like my stools, hopefully the dress is off to a good life where it will be worn and photographed and exclaimed over. 

I mean, it's a wedding dress, if clothes were sentient, I imagine it and a tutu would be two of the things most sad to never be worn.

Something to smile about

Within the next few hours, I have to say goodbye to Tilly.  Am sure I'll see her again - D's storing some things for me and I still have friends to come visit but still.  No excited tail wagging every day when I walk in, no one snuggled up under a blanket when it's cold out.

(Am glad I'll have Tass' dogs to play with while I'm staying with her, will definitely help)

Since I imagine the actual goodbye is going to break my ever weakening defenses and cause me to sob, finding this was fortuitous timing. The spaghetti and the shrimp are my favorites.

This is it

Would that I had a Michael Jackson soundtrack as I spin round but no.  This is it - my last day at work.

(Ish. Am totally cheating and coming in Monday to drop off my keys in case anything happens over the weekend and I need access to a computer/printer/fax and it puts off the finality for a few more hours)

Dad arrives Monday, while I'd do the drive in one day, he's talking about stopping halfway so we might - gulp - leave Monday.  Arrive Tuesday, test run Wednesday, grocery store and cable guy Thursday, he leaves Friday, I spend the weekend rocking in a ball in the corner muttering what ifs.

Breathe

First a HA, then a HIYA

On my list of things to freak out about, is being single in the big, bad city.  I'm relatively competent but still. Lucky for me, my boss is a black belt in karate and has taken many a self defense class so I went over to her house after work so she could show me the basics.

Which is good for me as all my self defense training has been what I've gleaned from Miss Congeniality and the episode of Designing Women where Mary Jo gets mugged.

We went through the initial talking part: walk with an air of confidence, don't look at a map on the subway or the street, walk to your car with your keys in your hand, if one side of the street is lit and the other is dark, walk on the lit side, etc.  Things I mostly already knew and practiced but always good to go over.

Then we got to yell.  Fun for this Italian!  The idea that your voice is one of your most powerful tools, most of the time yelling "NO" or "Don't touch me" causes people to back off but man is it hard to put into practice.  With the societal conditioning of not causing a scene or wanting to give people the benefit of the doubt and general deer in headlights syndrome, I, and I think a lot of people, tend to freeze up and feel like the vocal chords lock and (in my nightmares) I try to scream but all that comes out is a faint wisp of sound like Raj when Penny walks in the room.

But, in the comfort of T's basement, it was more like I was yelling at the dog and I bellowed away.

She showed me a couple of release moves if someone grabs my arm - twist your hand up and down on their wrist, which was great.  She's strong and was trying to hold onto me and I was able to break her hold each time.  Then my rom com leanings came in handy because as it turns out, Miss Congeniality is actually quite good at imparting the basic self defense tactics.  I do remember how to sing.  I got a second hand jab to add to my heel of wrist into nose move - purse fingers together and go for the eye/orbital bone area.

Then I actually got a surprised nod of approval when I threw an elbow.  Yay me!

Where she was great is that she always had an answer - I feel like sometimes people scoff or couch things (ie, well, what if two people grab me and knock me down, off the cuff answer might be well, then you're just stuck but she was always like nope, this is what you do, these are your options).  It's a scary thing to think about - I imagine most people have been in situations where they felt uncomfortable and I hate that my natural instinct is to freeze.  It's like my body and brain shut down while trying to parse out the unknown, potentially dangerous variable and I want to get it to the point where my reaction is almost muscle memory and involuntary then having to snap my brain into action and remember ok, drop your knees, back with the elbow.  And it does make me shudder to think that those few seconds of frozen silence could severely limit my options - sitting in my office now, I know to ignore them when they say I'll kill you if you scream but if the situation was actually happening?  Would I be so frozen that I let myself get dragged off away from people/help?

Hopefully I'll never need any of this for more than a hey, look what I can do party trick, but knowledge is power.

Time to go see if I can convince the office manager to practice wrist holds.

Just in time for Valentine's Day

Within the last few months, I've started to read Nicole's blog and enjoyed it.  A few weeks ago, she posted about a pay it forward kind of thing, where people can pool their goals and others can crowd source and help and get help on their own.  Excellent idea, no?

I gave my $.02 on a couple of items and figured, what the heck, I'll list one of my own.  I'm doing some big, scary things, surely seeking help from people is better than rocking in the corner, gnawing on cookie dough while staring and mumbling at a train schedule.

So I wrote out my wish (basically, to make friends), posted it and then, because I figured no one would respond, I FORGOT ABOUT IT.

My new tag line: A nincompoop that shoots herself in the foot.

I was reading another of her posts today and a light bulb popped in my brain that hey, perhaps I should check.  And lo!

Responses!  From honest to goodness non serial killer people including one of my favorite bloggers!

Who needs a date when I have the Internet to make me feel all warm and fuzzy on Valentine's Day?

(Though I may need some of that cookie dough while I sit here and compose emails to the very nice responders explaining that I'm a well-meaning dolt.)

Trading Up

Since this move is largely just take whatever can fit in my car, have been listing some furniture on Craigslist.  One of the items I listed were 3 stools I bought at Target years ago.

Simple, good condition, no problems.  Got an offer, the guy was getting them for his son. Son came over and looked at them for a few seconds, with a slightly alarming amount of enthusiasm. I was helping to load them up and we were chatting and he starts telling me about how the stools are going to be used at his lake house and will fit perfectly under the window overlooking the water.

Not only is it hilarious that the guy felt the need to assure me that he would give the stools a good home but my stools are moving up in the world. Off to live the good life, full of breezes and warming sunshine.  They certainly wouldn't be getting lake house views from me anytime soon.

Bonne chance, Target stools!

(Not gonna lie, both Tilly and I looked on enviously as the stools drove away.)

I can see clearly now?

I wear my contacts 24/7 and every few months I wear my glasses for a few days to give my eyes a break.

Like anything shiny and expensive, Tilly loves my glasses. And since any vision benefit I have typically goes towards the cost of contacts, these glasses have been banging around since college. [Huh, they can't possibly be nearly 10 years old. Wow.]

I'm accustomed to them being slightly crooked, thanks to an overzealous toddler I was babysitting one summer and generally smudged but aside from my eyes feeling a little dryer without the moist towelette like contact properties, I wear them and then back they go, under the sink, till I feel bad for my eyes a few months later and pull them back out.

I was dozing on the couch last night and I must have turned my head and wiggled my glasses mostly off because little miss saw her opportunity.  I didn't feel her pull them off, I just heard the sound of teeth scratching glass.

After a stumbling game of chase, I distracted her with a pigs ear and reclaimed my glasses.  Thanks to her exuberance, they sit slightly even more crooked across my nose causing my head to start to tilt to compensate.  And as one lens is mostly unscathed I seem to have rather quickly adopted a slightly pirate way of seeing.

Looks like it might be time to check out those online sites where you can get glasses for $10.

Oh, Tilly.

Perspectives

Like a good little analyst, when I'm faced with a situation I don't understand, I seek out people with knowledge in order to educate myself.  [Ed: It sounds so not crazy when I type it out this way.]

Since I have extremely limited knowledge about my upcoming life, have been seeking out people with inside information to try and soothe myself a bit.  And like all annoying data, my information bounces around the it'll be ok, it's not ok spectrum, taking my mood with it.

Yesterday, for example.

Plan a tentative commuting plan, with other potential options both using and not using my car.  Good!  Three hours later, am reviewing ticketing website and suddenly not sure if the monthly pass is only good for whatever option I choose so I'm locked in.  Another phone call to make.

Or.

11am - gchat with Tass. It'll be ok, it'll sort itself out, you'll be fine. I'll be fine.

8pm - call with my aunt and uncles friend who lives in Northern VA but works in DC.  It'll be rough, here's the thing about the transit, and the taxes, and the rent and huh. I guess you'll make it work. Not fine! NOT FINE!

If only those two conversations had been flipped, I wouldn't have lain awake again till after 4am (though the sheriff showing up at my next door neighbors at 130 didn't help). 

But, it'll be ok.  I'll just keep talking to people and looking for information in order to make my perspective fit with what I need.

And there's always aunt and uncles basement, should the world truly cave in.

A smashing success

My Monday's have suddenly become a lot more enjoyable.

What with the surprisingly watchable and entertaining The Voice (at least the blind audition rounds, we shall see if it holds up) and Hart of Dixie (my heart flutters for you, Wade, and for your largely Anthro outfits, Annabeth, and your hair and eyeliner, Rachel Bilson) plus the fading and disappointing but I'll watch to the bitter end because come on already HIMYM, both the TV and the DVR are busy.  And now, the most exciting of all for me: Smash.  Loved it. Lovvvvved it. Please to air for many years, ok show?

And since I still have soft spot for Glee, the beginnings of my weeks are shaping up to be very sparkly, indeed.