Seriously, though. Airport moments? They rank up there in terms of the hardest moments of my life.

I may have to have my father’s brother’s nephew’s cousin’s former roommate copy this for me once it’s available on DVD. Because I don’t spend money at the theater. That’s for putzes.

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

Only a couple of dreams, but they’ve both been wedding related. In the first, I was rushing around on the day of the wedding. Both IP and I were two hours late to our own ceremony, we somehow hadn’t left my parents’ house yet, and my hair was in cornrows. My sister and friend got my hair loose and into curls, but they were weak curls at that. I ran from room to room in some random wedding dress (which kept falling off of me, by the way), concerned that our pictures were going to be awful (if we ever took them, that is). All the while, my grandmother was there, calmly watching the proceedings, waiting for it all to begin. I barely noted her presence, I was so preoccupied. When I woke up, I felt incredibly guilty—here’s my grandmother, sharing my day with me when I thought I’d never see her again, and I ignore her.

The next night, I dreamed about her again. I was in one of the bedrooms in her old house, going through pictures that we were going to use in our reception hall (an idea which both IP and I vetoed since it’s reminiscent of the pictures put up for memorials). I heard a raspy voice outside telling me not to be scared, and in came my grandmother. She was speaking to me in English (she couldn’t speak English in real life) and telling me she announced herself first because she didn’t want me to be scared. She wanted me to know she’d be at my wedding. I was so happy—I hugged her and we chatted a bit more before the dream faded. I woke up and realized that my grandmother’s voice had been raspy because I’d been hearing IP’s breathing (his throat bothered him all last week). Realizing that my grandmother was still, indeed, gone I started to cry a little bit. IP woke up shortly afterward for a brief moment, but I just buried my face into the pillow so he wouldn’t see me crying.

We’re having our officiant observe a moment of silence for our grandparents; IP wants to recognize his grandfather while I want to recognize both my grandparents. Lately, I’d been fretting about which jewelry to wear and realized that for my earrings, the answer was there all along: the pearls my grandmother had given me as a kid. Not only would they look perfect with my dress, but then my grandmother will really be there with me.

Okay, I made myself cry. Off I go to the ladies’ room! Sorry if there are major grammar/spelling mistakes, but I can’t read the post again right now.

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

However, there have been moments, both good and kind of sad, that I associate with Valentine’s Day and us.

February 14, 2003: On opening my email on this day in 2003, a smile breaks over my face as I see that IP has sent me an e-card. Given that he had left for an overseas project in early January, he obviously thought ahead and decided to surprise his girl, then studying for her master’s at the University of Torture, uh, Toronto. “I watch the sun, I watch the moon, I close my eyes and think of you.” I can still remember that cute poem with the silly guy watching the sun and moon cruising above him, closing his eyes and smiling in the last frame. I accordingly burst into tears. IP’s message wishes me a good semester, hopes that the Canadians aren’t pissing me off too much, and promises to call me when he’s stateside again. Yes, I still have the card and web page saved on my computer. Why do you ask? I am fairly sure I gave IP an early Valentine’s Day card before I left Michigan in early January prior to his overseas departure. Um, fairly sure.

February 13 – 14, 2004: After five months of not seeing IP (he had then left for Colorado), IP makes his first visit back to Michigan. The day before Valentine’s Day, after arriving at his hotel room to pick him so that he could join his colleagues for some research for the day, IP sits me down and asks, “Where do you think this relationship is going?” Taken by surprise, a bit suspicious of his tone of voice (at the time it sounded like a set-her-up-early-let-her-down-easy-later kind of deal), I honestly tell him that I care for him and that I see a lot of potential in the relationship despite the distance. IP is less sure and says so. I of course end up crying because I’m seriously disheartened (I think it’s because we’re both pretty emotionally invested at this point but IP is Dr. Practical, so he frustrates me in this instance in not recognizing it). That night I’m forced to endure an evening out at Ashley’s with his friends who continuously ask me when I’m going to move to Colorado. I’m given a golden line when someone tells IP he’s not that smart (which survives as an in-joke today), but Valentine’s Day itself is a bit rough on me even though IP gamely watches at Red Wings-Avalanche game with me (Wings lost). This is the year I gave IP red boxers from Red Envelope that read “Dr. Sweet Buns” only because they didn’t let me write out “Dr. Sweet Ass”. Prudish bastards.

February 14, 2005: Yes, we did survive until 2005. Duh.  IP sends me a copy of The World of Christopher Marlowe, a book on Shakespeare’s rival (dead too soon) that I’d been coveting for a bit. The box containing the book arrives early and I eagerly post about it on my blog (then called “Not an Independent Thought in My Head”—hyuck!). In the comments, IP informs me that he’s been given a raise effectively immediately—this after his boss had told him that he might use IP’s raise to instead purchase stock for the lab (fucker). However, IP is on the cusp of escaping the horror that is Colorado Ehbeeoh but doesn’t know it quite yet. (He’s in the running for a job he ultimately turns down; he also starts to receive notice from associations in DC for interviews in the spring, which is exciting.) As you can tell from the old post, the Internets learns that I own 37% of IP. This is the year that I get IP “Jump Me Checkers” from Red Envelope. I’m fairly sure it’s somewhere in the apartment but we have never played it. So much for making checkers fun for me (I always lose to him).

February 14, 2006: While we actually began our Valentine’s Day truces on this day in 2006, the sweetest moment of learning that I had a new job in the DC area was calling IP up at his busy office and asking “Honey, would you like to have dinner together on Valentine’s Day?” That ended up not happening precisely because IP worked in a busy office but it was nice to be nearby nonetheless.  My office is surprised that IP and I have called a truce, with the women thinking I’m a dupe and the men thinking I’m the coolest thing since sliced bread.  Seriously, though?  IP getting me a Diet Mountain Dew after we’ve had a fight on any random day is much sweeter than flowers from the vendors near Metro stations (whenever I see guys buying those flowers I figure they’re in deep trouble at home).

February 14, 2007: IP, I know we did the truce thing again, but was there anything of note last year? I do know that we had a “snowstorm” the night before that complicated the morning commute on Valentine’s Day (and given this year’s “ice storm”, a note to the area—participants of the Potomac Primary, please procure salt to prevent precarious conditions, posthaste!). I do know I registered for New York 2007 on this day a year ago. But the truce held.

February 14, 2008: And here we are. Happy Valentine’s Day to my beloved boyfriend and domestic partner. (Hee!) May I never have to demand palimony of you. May I never have to demand alimony of you. May I always be lucky enough to have you even if you’re not that smart according to SJ.  Thanks for not dragging me to a romantic dinner surrounded by a million other couples; thanks for not making me spend money at Victoria’s Secret today; thanks for telling me you love me when it really counts.  Truce?

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

I want so badly to do well in my new job. I really want to work hard, excel, and impress my new company. I have a great feeling about it all, contrary to the feelings of creeping dread that I felt in my previous two full-time jobs (I didn’t feel dread for my part-time job–it became a hassle, but I think it had to do more with environment than the actual work, and besides, I knew that it was temporary given I was limited to a certain number of hours). My first job out of college, which relates well to my new job, I really enjoyed and had to leave only because I was going to a master’s program. It’s odd to find myself back in that line of business given my focus on English since departing my first job out of college, but I welcome it because I think it has the potential to open a lot of doors for me. We’ll see what happens, but I am really enthusiastic about doing well and exceeding expectations.

I cannot wait to have my own space. I’m leaning strongly towards a studio/efficiency only because filling up a one-bedroom apartment is difficult, and I might fall into the trap of trying to fill it up all at once (which would be foolish and expensive). I also believe I could make use of a space like that quite well. I’ll save a bit of money if I live in a studio/efficiency, which will be nice as I try to get on my feet in Blankety-Blank (boy, I’m lame). Of course, nothing is decided and I still need to see the spaces, but I can’t wait to have my own apartment. Y-a-a-a-a-a-y.

Of course, I’m also a bit sad. I adore my family, and it didn’t hit me until today that I’m going to be leaving them. I’m relieved to feel that I’m doing the right thing and that I’m excited to do this, but I also expected to be sad. I’ve pretty much stayed on the calm side of sad, but right now, as I alternatively pack and write, I have to admit I’m kind of crying. There is no question that I want to do this, and I can readily admit that doing things for “the last time” has been fun, but I love them, so it’s naturally going to sting a bit.

The only hurdle left to tackle is tomorrow. I already know for a fact that our accountant does not know I’m leaving, and she should’ve been the first informed in order to process my final paycheck correctly. I typed up a letter to the accountant and junior accountant, just in case my boss is typically disorganized and does not tell them what the deal is (vacation for the second week, some vacation time left over). I need to turn in all of my equipment, which has been packed up and ready to be loaded into an Explorer. Then, I must finish packing, run to the post office, and voila! I should be ready for Saturday.

Maybe.

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

The past few days have been a combination of odd and exhilarating. From telling my parents about my good luck (and weeping a bit) to telling my boss with glee (and skipping a bit), I’ve run the gamut of emotions many-a-time, but it’s mostly stayed towards the excited/giddy end of the spectrum. I’ve also jotted down more than a few beginnings to blog entries, but they never really made it to full-fledged blog postings. Here, however, are my thoughts over the past few days:

January 24: While at a farewell dinner with my work friends and sister, I learned some interesting information. Apparently, Dyn-o-mite has received a couple of calls concerning me (I’m sure it wasn’t my new employer–I asked that they please not contact my current boss), so consequently my supervisor and his supervisor were not surprised at all to hear of my departure. I’m really curious to know who’s been contacting my boss’ boss about me, and how many inquiries there have been. My boss, to his credit, mentioned to my friend that he was pretty sure I was unhappy at Dyn-o-mite, but he of course never did anything to address my unhappiness (which will always lead to a defection–this simple cycle, it does not click in this man’s mind). Oh, I’d love to have more details! Of course, I probably won’t get very many more, but the sheer satisfaction of leaving will console me.

My friends were kind enough to give me farewell/housewarming gifts. I got measuring cups and spoons (which every self-respecting baker needs!), kitchen towels (I have a kitchen scheme–woohoo!), and a photo album. We drank Mr. Misties and Bahama Mamas, ate some food that was not so hot, and laughed for the better part of two and a half hours. At the end, they all hugged me, wishing me luck in Blankety-Blank (an explanation as to why I haven’t said the new city name yet further down in this post), and asking me to keep in touch. Of course, I’ll talk with all of them today over IM, but it’s weird to think that the next time they get together, I won’t be around to participate. It’s hard to believe that this was the last time we’re getting together as a work group.

January 23: My boss’ probably intentional implication that I can’t find a job before I move notwithstanding, quitting today was remarkably easy. I have to tell you, I have never looked forward to a Monday as much as I looked forward to today. I was practically skipping when I parked my car and made my way to the office’s door. I ducked my head into my boss’ office, said my good mornings and how-was-your-weekends, and then sat down. I began by saying that I had accepted a position elsewhere, and that I was handing in my notice. I explained that I still had vacation days left, and that I would utilize five of my seven leftover vacation days as my second week of my two week notice. He accepted all of it with measured calm, telling me that he knew I wasn’t long for Dyn-o-mite and that he had been afraid, since Friday, that I was about to give my resignation. He asked for an exit interview (which I have to [carefully] craft answers to and remember to not sign anything), asked me to write down any “quirks” that my events might have (so it’ll be useful to the new editor handling my events), and acknowledged that I’d be returning my equipment on Friday. We shook hands, and then I went to my in-office friend’s office to tell her to gleefully anticipate the day she gets to leave (which will happen soon, I’m sure).

Other than, preparations are under way to get myself to Blankey-Blank (is it weird that I can’t bring myself to write the city name until I actually get there? Yeah, it is). I’ve made lists, I’ve been checking them twice, and gathering any and all information and papers that I might need for my move. I was scrambling today, looking for my naturalization certificate–the last time I used it was in 2003 when returning from the University of Toronto. I could not, for the life of me, find it. I looked up how much it would cost to replace my certificate–$220! I knew that I had left the certificate in a bright yellow folder, and knew that this folder had to be somewhere among my Toronto papers. Of course, it wasn’t. As a last-ditch effort, I looked in an older messenger bag that I had been using when I worked at Dyn-o-minte in-office. Bingo! My certificate was there. That was $220 saved.

Back to today: I keep on waking up around 5am, 6am, these days. Maybe it’ll serve me well in the near future (maybe in order to get runs out of the way before work), but it’s been mildly annoying lately. I am not getting enough sleep, and I feel very unproductive during the day. I packed a shitload of stuff yesterday (as witnessed by my complaining, I have too many things), but ended up wasting a good chunk of the day at the doctor’s office. I am, as expected, extremely healthy (my blood pressure’s spectacular, says my doc). It was more like a let-me-gush-about-my-good-fortune session than a doctor’s appointment–he asked me a bunch of questions regarding my mental and physical health, relationships, and levels of stress that invariably led back to a) I was a bit stressed due to my move, b) my relationships were wonderful, thank you–may I brag about my boyfriend and family a bit?, and c) physicially, I’m doing okay–I completed my first half-marathon last year, so I think I’m doing swell! After the doctor’s office, I went to the store to pick up some groceries with my mom. We got very little, and there is still very little stocked in the house–the woman has not been feeling well at all, and was diagnosed with a sinus infection yesterday afternoon. She came home early yesterday, then stayed home today.

Today, I really need to get my act together. While I think I’m in pretty great shape considering a whole bunch of my clothes and coat fit in my largest suitcase, I need to sit down and rewrite some lists that I’ll definitely need once I get myself to Blankety-Blank. When I do get to Blankety-Blank, I keep reminding myself, I need to be assured, confident, and decisive–as my mom pointed out yesterday in a spat of tears, I’ll be doing the financial thing on my own (though, as I gently corrected her, I won’t be totally alone emotionally–IP is there, and I will probably make friends through my work and the runnning club I want to join; also, I’m not going to live in a dangerous part of the Blankety-Blank area, so I am keeping safety in mind). I need to sit down and ask myself the questions I want to ask while apartment hunting, make sure my financial bases are covered (though, as of right now, I feel pretty secure, especially given that I’m not going to be without income for any considerable amount of time), and generally prioritize the things I need to do before next Wednesday. It’s a bit intimidating given I’ve been a Michigan girl more or less all of my life (does Toronto count? I don’t want it to), but I feel that I can do it, nay, need to do it. Simple as that.

Okay, now, breakfast is over and it’s time to “work.”

P.S. I guess, once I get to Blankety-Blank, I’ll have to create a new category to replace “Making Fun of Distance.” Suggestions? Maybe I should wait a few weeks–it could easily be “This Man Is Annoying the Hell Out of Me, Will He Get Out of My Queen Bed Already and Stop Eating My Mexican Rice?” ;)

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

A huge part of me is really bummed to be back, and I admit that I’m feeling it more acutely than the other three times that I’ve been to the boyfriend’s city. I’m in a sit-and-wait posture, hoping that one of the two jobs I’ve interviewed for offers me something. Of course, seeing as how it’s 10:15pm on the Monday after my interview, I’m not going to here anything within the next couple of days, but I can feel impatience already itching at me. And that, I must say, is stupid. It’s probably aggravated by my exhaustion from the weekend and my wanting the long-distance relationship deal to end soon. As I complained tearfully to my boyfriend, I sometimes find it so unfair that we’ve been unable to be in the same place for the majority of our relationship (note: I calculate about 10 months of a local relationship–we’re going on four years together). I can do it, hell yes, and I’ll keep on doing it as long as I have to, and I wouldn’t trade any of this for the world, but I think the thought wore on me today, what with my departure and the tense wait any job interview incurs. All day, all I thought about was the unfairness of it all, and I think it was reflected in my quiet demeanor the entire morning and afternoon. So not only am I pissed at the prolonged distance, but I’m pissed at myself for being such a wet blanket the majority of the day. Blah.

So I sit here, knowing I have to go to sleep, a smidgen of hope still radiating within me, but another part of me desperately upset that I have to go back to Dyn-o-mite tomorrow. I’m ecstatic at having spent a few great days with my boyfriend, but sad that here I sit, in Michigan, while he’s miles away. There’s a lot of good yet to happen, and I can’t lose sight of that, but oh how I wish I could calm the urgency to leave just a little bit, at least until it’s actually time to leave.

I think I might have to take Nyquil tonight.

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

Sure, the UPS guy only got a loaf of bread, but at they got him something. Springing for chicken and then making us bring in potluck crap? Doesn’t seem like much of a Christmas bonus to me.

Honestly, while I expressed fury with my fellow coworkers, I’m not that angry. I’m really not. Like I told a friend, I’m just exhausted from being mad at the place. No, the majority of my fury is fueled at Amazon.com and UPS for being shitheads and not sending on my boyfriend’s present until last night. I ordered it on December 9 in order for him to get it a few days before he left for vacation. Guess what? It’s been rescheduled with a delivery date of tomorrow, December 23. He won’t be in town to receive it. Sure, it’ll be safe in an office, but I’m still majorly pissed, and Amazon heard from me last night. They told me it was shipping on December 15, but it wasn’t picked up from the Amazon warehouse until last night at 9:40ish. Why the hell did UPS wait six days to pick up a package? Why did Amazon schedule for it to go out on December 15 and then not wonder why the hell nothing happened for six days? I know I did, but I kept on hoping this was another one their system idiocies where you don’t get notified it’s been shipped and your intended recipient was like, “Oh, I got it yesterday!” I trust Amazon, damnit, so I wanted to believe. It is the Christmas season, after all. And I know they’re busy, but I ordered the present on December 9, for Pete’s sake. I want an explanation, I really would like a refund (so then I can get my boyfriend something else), and I would like a heartfelt apology. Something else I ordered from them on the same day arrived on December 14–why the mix up, Amazon?

You fucking fuckers.

I’m mad that it took them so long to get their shit together and send notification to UPS to pick it up. I’m mad that it didn’t get picked up until December 21 when it should’ve gone out six days earlier. I’m mad that my boyfriend won’t get his present before he leaves. This is incompetency of the highest level. Seriously? It makes me want to never order from Amazon again even though Barnes & Noble’s prices are that much higher.

That’s my rant. At least I have something at which to direct my anxiousness.

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

Ahem, back to our regularly scheduled not-groan inducing blog . . .

But the quick summary of the weekend?  The turkey turned out good, as did any and all potatoes that were made, in addition to the seared vegetables.  We were not so lucky with a supposedly fresh French baguette, but them’s the breaks.  Pumpkin spice candles are very nice, as is talking until 1am even though you know you’re going to be as tired as hell the next (busy) morning.  Upstairs neighbors are noisy beasts, but what can you do (save bang on the ceiling if it really gets out of hand)?  Sculptures are very odd and can be made into a good guessing game.  There’s more, so much more, and I can think of it, but how to make it as vague as possible?  Hmm . . .

Bottom line is that this was a great Thanksgiving weekend.

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

Oh, that makes me want to blow up, just lose it.  Not because I don’t like my company, but because it’s just bad writing, period.  It’s an affront to my English language sensibilities.

Anyway, the latter half of the week was infinitely better than the first half.  My family always makes me smile, but the instrument of my mood turnaround this week was definitely my boyfriend.  He talked me down from my panic and frustration on Wednesday night, and followed that with a pleasant surprise on Thursday that made me burst into tears, made my mom burst into tears, and made my friend (the one who recommended the stylebooks) burst into tears.  My friend and I spent the better half of an hour recounting sweet things our guys had done for us (she’s married), telling each other that we were sobbing as we IMed.  We both came to the conclusion that, despite our crappy work situation, we each have someone wonderful to turn to when things go to hell and we’re stressed beyond all belief.  Life’s not great in all areas, but we have that.  We bawled some more together, then decided to leave off of work for the day; we’d already worked an hour too many.

So yeah, I spent Thursday afternoon crying, but it was a good kind of crying.

The weekend should go well.  Besides applying to jobs, I have my class’s material and assignment to look over, I have to get a run in (I already did some weightlifting this morning, as well as 40 minutes on the elliptical at top speed), and I should find something new to read.  I’m about two pages away from finishing "The Stand" (oh, another aside:  How reading that book makes me long to be hiking in Colorado!), so I’ll definitely need something new before . . . five minutes from now.  I’m pretty sure I have something in my library waiting to be read.

Off to enjoy the rest of the weekend.  Less than a week until "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire!"  Less than two weeks until my boyfriend and I try to cobble together Thanksgiving dinner.  I must say it again:  Yay!

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

However, November will be fun, and I will now enumerate why in chronological order.

First of all, Thursday is my little sister’s 21st birthday.  In addition to getting her rip-roaring trashed, we’ll be enjoying a cookie cake.  Oh, she brings about such good fortune when she’s present.  Can you believe I didn’t like her when she was born?

Second, by Friday of next week I should be done, if not close to done, with this season.  That leaves me more time to apply for jobs.  I spent the entire weekend doing this–one application took me about three hours to finish, but it was time well spent.  I think my cover letters are getting better, and hopefully one or a few of them will pay off with some interviews.  If I could just get that face-to-face interview–I’m not bragging when I say I can turn on the charm and dazzle at interviews with my answers and my questions.  I’m not saying that I’ll get a job as soon as I interview, but I do try to make myself memorable in addition to being well-qualified.  It’s really not hard to do because I don’t blend in with the crowd–if there’s one advantage to having a Mexican/European/Moorish/Basque background, it’s the these looks aren’t duplicated much within nature.  I’m not plain, and that helps me stick out a lot when it comes to interviews.  Is that ego speaking?  Maybe, but it’s an advantage I don’t hesitate to use. 

Third reason why November will be fun:  Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire comes out on November 18!  If you haven’t seen the previews, I highly recommend you hightail it to The Leaky Cauldron to see a few previews and clips that have come out over recent weeks.  The movie looks absolutely spectacular.  While I really enjoyed the first and second movie, the third and fourth have really been injected with oomph; it helps that the story really starts to pick up in the third book, but I also think that the new directors have brought a lot more to the Harry Potter table.  The fifth film begins filming in January with the same cast, so we know another one’s coming relatively soon.  With only one more book to go, it’s nice to know that we have at least two movies coming our way; I have very little doubt that books six and seven will be made into movies.  Even though they’re growing up, they should keep the same kids.  I never watched 90210, but didn’t those people play teenagers while they were in their 30s?  At least the Harry Potter actors are close to the ages of their characters.

Cutest scene from the clips?  When Viktor Krum takes Hermione’s hand when leading her into the Great Hall for the Yule Ball.  Her little giggle perfectly conveys how flattered you feel at a young age when a guy starts to drool over you, especially an older guy.

Fourth and squeal-inducing reason why November will be fun?  I’ll be spending Thanksgiving with my boyfriend.  We’re mulling over whether to go traditional for the Thanksgiving dinner, or to just eschew tradition and make whatever the hell we feel like.  Since I’m not much of turkey person, I’m sort of pulling for the non-traditional feast.  We still don’t have a definite plan, but at least we’ll be spending time together.  I do plan on baking something for my family prior to leaving, though, so they’ll have me there for Thanksgiving in spirit.  And in the form of pumpkin cheesecake.

Well, as it’s now 11:30am and almost time for lunch, I should break away from this computer for a bit, send off some resumes (I need to go to the post office, not only for exact postage, but because some vandals destroyed our mailbox for the umpteenth time on this road), and finish doing laundry.  I guess I should also try to finish the majority of my work today.

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.