Month: March 2016

Terrible timing

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John and I found the best comic book shop with a whole separate games shop today.  TODAY.  Two weeks before we move.

It was busy, clearly doing well, holds game nights (right now they’re having a Break My Game demo event),they had a ton of enthusiastic helpful staff, lots of people we could probably be friends with….

Eugene will have places like this, right?  Of course it will.

Jess will just have to enjoy this place for us.  I will MAKE her enjoy this place for us, although the use of force will not be necessary.

Anticipating an explosion

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The car was COVERED in pollen this morning.  Yesterday, nothing.  Today, blanketed in yellow dust.  We weren’t even parked on the side of the street with the trees.  It’s a darn good thing I take allergy medicine all year long, but even so, I’m a little nervous.

Spring is here, and with it comes much discomfort.  And here I am, sitting in my apartment with EVERY window open.  I’m just asking for trouble.

Good Samaritan (it wasn’t me)

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Today was beautiful and warm and breezy.  We had the windows open and the fans going all day.  It was great, but it also means we hear EVERYTHING that goes on outside.  This evening, before sunset, we heard a horrendous screeching noise right outside the apartment.  We looked out the windows and saw a car stopped in the middle of road, blocking the northbound lane, with the drivers side door open.  There was another woman inspecting the red mini parked on the side of the road just in front of it.  I assumed we’d just heard a crash, that maybe the car had hit the mini or the mini backed into the car.  I stopped looking through the screen (opting for the clear part of the window), and I couldn’t see any damage, and then John noticed the tire leaning up against the mini.

Apparently, this car was driving up our street when the front left tire CAME OFF THE CAR and rolled into the street and hit the mini.  The horrendous screeching noise was the front left corner of the car, minus its tire, scratching up the pavement.  We stood at the windows watching the circus (the people in the car running around, getting the tire, staring at the car, the other drivers trying to go around the car to get out of town, the southbound lane stopping to let the northbound lane swerve into their lane to go), and then we heard someone shout something about needing a jack.

John: Should I help?  I have a jack.  I should help.  Should I help?

He decided to help.  By the time I went outside, there were 7 or 8 people clustered around the car (only three of whom were working).  Everyone else on the block was out on front porches and stoops (me and our housemates included), watching the fun (and occasionally yelling).  With the help of two of the guys who live next door, John jacked up their car and got the tire back on.  Sort of.  Turns out that out of the five bolts that usually hold a tire on, one was missing and one had been completely broken off.  Of the three that were left, only one was straight and able to be used.  The car owners (who didn’t help at all and barely said thank you) decided to risk driving back to DC rather than drive the car slowly to a shop.

We’re going to keep an eye on the news for the idiots who are surely going to lose the tire again going too fast on the highway back to DC tonight.

Mauled

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Jess goes home at lunchtime to take her dogs out and play with them, so I ran her way one day this week.  It’s so nice to be able to get outside and STAY outside (and it’s so nice that her new apartment is well within running distance).  My run was…not good, but I got to Jess’s place and joined her and the dogs in the dog park.

And then I was attacked.

That sounds bad.

I was attacked in a friendly way by her two giant boxers who have forgotten their manners.  It’s just as well I was sweaty and wearing running clothes because I ended up with dirt all over from muddy paws and slobbery faces.  Ick.  Got a couple of claw marks on my arms that faded quickly.  I am not used to that anymore.  Howdy and Daisy are far too old for playing rough, Lilly won’t come near me, and if Ginger wants to fight me, I’ll just sit on her.  Roxy and Riley hadn’t played rough for YEARS before they died, and I don’t really know any other dogs.  I certainly wasn’t hurt, and I definitely wasn’t scared (they’re big friendly beasts who just want to play, and 30 seconds later, they want to curl up in my lap and snore), but it was unexpected.  And then I felt weird about being thrown by it.

I miss my puppies.

Rock lobster!

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I’ve got nothing tonight.  Well, not nothing, but I can’t get back to what I had because “Roam” by the B-52s has inexplicably gotten stuck in my head.  (It’s a little difficult not knowing ANY of the verses.)  While I figure out what I thought I had, I’ll share with you.

Big sigh of relief

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Our moving documents are signed (we officially have movers coming to pack up and move our stuff), with a date and everything AND our lease is signed.  We officially have a place to live!

[Break for happy dance.]

AND it’s a beautiful day AND it was 55 degrees at lunchtime AND I ran outside for the first time in a couple weeks WITHOUT A JACKET and life is good.

BIG exception: I logged in to TurboTax to continue the taxes I started a month ago, and it got all crazy.  And what I mean by “all crazy” is really “why on earth does TurboTax think we owe almost $9000 in federal taxes and over $12,000 in MD taxes?!?”

I logged out of TurboTax and looked for local personal tax accountants.  Found one.  We’re meeting her on Friday.

Even with that hanging over us, we’re still getting things done and that is good.  I’m certain the tax thing will get figured out.  THAT is not what I’m going to worry about.

Malbec vs. Malblech

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I like wine.  I like malbec.  But a while ago, I found that not all malbecs are equal.  Of course they’re not.  Just like every other type of wine, some are good and some aren’t.  But with malbecs, they seem to come in two different categories.  I’m sure people like the ones I don’t like, but I was having this conversation with an older guy in a bar (the bar Jess likes), and he agreed with me.  He said there are malbecs and there are malblechs.  But how do you know the difference when you’re buying a new one?  He couldn’t help me.

Months later, I was in the wine store facing this dilemma, trying to decide whether or not I should buy a particular malbec.  One of the employees came by and offered her help, and I took the most obvious step ever.  I asked her.  She was able to tell me that there are lighter, fruitier malbecs and heavier malbecs (so that dude and I aren’t crazy), but she couldn’t tell me which one of those I like (of course) UNTIL I remembered that I like the one that bar sells.  Once we identified that one, she found it in the store, said it was on the lighter side (of course), and now the mystery has been solved.  Except that the label on the bottle isn’t likely to say whether it’s a heavy malbec or a light one.  But at least now, I can ask someone knowledgeable and not sound like an idiot (not as much of one).  It would be too much to ask of me to remember which ones I already know I like.

I love having no plans

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This weekend is officially a no-plans weekend, and so far, it’s glorious.  We slept until 9, had a light breakfast, picked up the apartment.  I had lunch with Jess, who just happened to text, and John took his laptop off to a coffee shop to program some stuff.  Jess and I bought some wine, took a walk, and then I met John back at the apartment.  Quick trip to CVS, and now we’re home, probably in for the rest of the day.  I plan to read or maybe watch that show I borrowed from Nathan at work, and then we’ll watch Agent Carter and eat pizza and go to bed.

Tomorrow: brunch.  And groceries.  Maybe laundry.  It’s so nice to be home.

I can hear the chapel bells chime

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Our apartment is directly across the street from the Naval Academy and just a little bit down the block from the Naval Academy chapel, where midshipmen get on the longest wait lists EVER to get married.  I have yet to see a wedding there, but I rarely go on the yard.  My view of the chapel is the back view, pretty much.  But I can hear it!  Bells chime on the quarter hour from 8am to 8pm daily.  Sometimes I can tune them out, sometimes every quarter hour shoves me through the day.  Most of the time I don’t mind them.  What I’m not crazy about are the songs.  At noon every day, after the bells ring the hour, they play “Eternal Father, Strong to Save”, and at 6pm every day, they play…something.  I think it varies, and it’s not always recognizable.  Sometimes it’s not even recognizable as a melody.  Tonight, though, it was “Amazing Grace”.  I think.  I’m pretty sure.

The Naval Academy website has a page for the chapel but NOTHING about the bells.  I found a 16-year-old article in the Washington Post about them, so now I know that they’re not rung by people (they’re digitized), I’m right about the Navy Hymn at noon every day, and apparently a hymn is selected at random from a database at 6pm every day.  Although it also says that the organ was going to be hooked up eventually, so maybe eventually came during the last 16 years and some person on the organ is responsible for the 6pm hymns that don’t sound like anything melodic.  I choose to believe that.

We’re about to trade constant bell-ringing for train chugging and whistles.  Which will we prefer?

I’m home!!!

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My time in Virginia this week did not go like I thought it would.  The work days were crazy, but I probably should have assumed they would be.  It’s the evenings, the hotel stay, that were so different from my expectations.  My vision of those evenings included lots of quiet time to myself, time to read, go to bed early, sleep well – miss John, certainly, but enjoy my alone time anyway.  That is decidedly NOT how those two nights went.  I did it to myself, of course.

Tuesday night, I went straight from work to happy hour with some coworkers (as I mentioned the other day, in a post fueled by wine and cookies), and I stayed out much later than I had planned.  It’s fine – I was having a good time – but it was 9:30 when I got in, after 10:30 before I got out of the bathtub, and around 11 when I went to bed, with an alarm set for 5:30 so I could get up and exercise.  I read a little (tub time!), but not much, and I slept terribly.  Not a relaxing night.

Wednesday, I worked late and went directly to a restaurant to have dinner with Susan (from boxing) and Molly.  Back in the hotel by 9:30 again, but this time with Molly, who was staying with me so she could avoid the commute from DC the next morning (and, presumably, to hang out with me).  We stayed up until midnight (slumber party!) and woke up at 6am.  She got up to exercise.  I had another terrible night’s sleep (nightmares about packing suitcases in a hotel room with a wasp, a puppy, and about a dozen people hanging around), so I stayed in bed until about 6:45.

So now I’m home, and we have a weekend without plans.  I think.  I hope.  I would like to read.

I miss my bed

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Of the last 14 days, I have spent only 4 of them sleeping in my own bed.  It would be cool if we could take it with us on short trips.  We were in OR for a few days (2 hotel nights, 3 nights at Will and Christina’s, 1 night on a plane), then home for 3 nights, then up to CT for the weekend (2 nights in PA, 1 in CT), then home for 1 night, and then I came to VA for work, and tonight is my second (and last) night in a hotel.  Don’t get me wrong – none of those nights have been uncomfortable (except the night on the plane), and every single shower I’ve had in hotels and other people’s houses has been better than the shower at home, but – my bed.  My stuff.  Not living out of a bag.

Actually, I slept terribly last night.  Noises from the hallway, noises from the parking lot, noises from the room next door (sick and crying child, I think), went to bed late and got up early – I’m surprised I made it through the day.  I tried the hotel gym this morning.  Ran a mile and a half on the treadmill, did some weights.  They keep that room a bit too warm for me.  The thermostat was set to 70, and it was a muggy, sweaty 70.  I didn’t end up doing much, but I suppose it was better than nothing.  I’ll try again tomorrow.  Tonight, I read.

Decadent

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This is the life (but better if John were here):

I traveled to the office today.  After spending the day at work (both stressful (didn’t get enough done) and pleasant (saw a lot of people I like)), I went out to get a drink with some coworkers.  From there, I checked into my hotel, where they gave me a warm chocolate chip cookie.  Now, I’m going to take a bath in a bathtub WAY nicer than the one in our apartment.  This might be my first bath since we moved to Annapolis.

Can that possibly be true?

I think it is.  I’m going to take a bath.  With a chocolate chip cookie.

Maybe I should have titled this post “Wine and Cookies”.