Sunday, July 27, 2008

We Made It.

As true to my word, we arrived at 8:00 a.m. at Budget Truck Rental and surveyed the lot. Plenty of trucks had been dropped off overnight. Someone else came by, looked at the sign, noticed they didn't open until 9, and left. I planted my butt 3 feet in front of the store door and greeted Elizabeth 15 minutes later when she walked up. Half an hour later, another couple showed up, and five minutes after that, another person showed up. When one lady arrived right at 9:00, she said, "There's already a line? You've got to be kidding me." No, ma'am. Apparently most of us had been called yesterday and been informed of the first-come-first-served-your-reservation-don't-mean-squat-to-us spiel, so we were all ready to go.

The big stuff, as I call it, was moved into the truck, and out of the truck, rather effortlessly. That's probably because Wiley and GinnTacos loaded it, while I looked at their bad pack job. (We didn't need to pack it to the top, as most everything else had been moved. Seriously!) Everything we took over to the new house was put into the garage, and it fit. We thought we might be able to rearrange the bins, bed, desk, dresser, chairs, and ottoman after the actual owners of the house had vacated in order to get our car into the garage, but I don't really see that happening, and I'm ok with that. (We'll see how I feel in December when I go out to a freezing car!)

So now we are at the Temp House. Yesterday as we brought a few things over, people were already here, watching baseball. It was kinda awkward and I wonder if they'll be walking in on us (I doubt it, but I'll still make sure the doors are locked to give me a little notice if someone walks in.)

And now it's the beginning of Shark Week on Discovery! Not having had a TV with cable for the past 5 months, I've developed an appreciation for it. And I got to watch a shark give birth, which sounds kinda gross, but it's very cool.

So it's back to the old house to clean up, move the last remaining things, and feed the cats until later this week when they go to their new temp home. Then to the grocery store for cake. I can't fight this feeling anymore.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Maybe Buying a Truck Would be a Good Thing After All...

Budget Rental Truck called me at 8:00 this morning, not identifying themselves at all. Originally, when I heard the message, I thought my florist was calling me telling me she was unable to make my bridal bouquet, but after listening to the message again, I realized that my reservation for a truck was in vain.

We made this reservation in May. We called earlier this week to confirm. So getting a call today was a little surprising. I called back.

"I'm sorry but we don't have a truck for you today," Elizabeth, the harried Budget Truck gopher, said.

"That's interesting, and unfortunate," I said, "if I had had a reservation for today. However, my reservation, that I made in May, and that I confirmed earlier this week, says I'm picking up a truck tomorrow."

"I show your reservation for today."

"Well, I guess your computer made a mistake because I have the confirmation email that says Sunday, July 27. So are you going to have a truck for me tomorrow?"

"I don't know," she said. "Our reservation center overbooked us (register my shock) and didn't shut down when they should have, and since we don't know when people made their reservations, it's first come first served. But I'll call you later this afternoon and update you."

Did she call? Of course not. So I called her 5 minutes before closing.

"So," I said, "if I show up tomorrow morning, and I'm the first one there, then the first truck that comes into the lot tomorrow morning should be my truck, right?"

Silence. Then a tentative, "I guess I could do that..."

I pressed, "Well, that is the first-come first-served way of doing things, right? That is what you mean, right?"

Is she used to dealing with idiots?

"I'll be there at 8," I said.

"We don't open until 9," she told me.

"I'll still be there at 8. I'm going to be the first one there, and I'll pick up the first truck on the lot tomorrow. I'll be outside while you open the store."

I've never been one to be somewhere so early that I can see people open the store, and I'm sure that it makes them uncomfortable. When I worked retail and people would be milling about outside for their BOGO fix, I hated the fact that I could see them and they could see me readying the store for the day's excitement. Didn't they have something better to do?

However, it seems that reservations mean nothing to Budget. And it's not like we have a truck or trailer that we can borrow at our whim. So I'll be putting on my curb-kicking shoes and getting my butt to the rental facility early, and I'm planting my butt right in front of the store door.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Where are all the Good Humans?

Do you remember a time when somebody said they'd do something, and they'd actually do it? When someone's word actually meant something? I miss those days.

My landlord called me a liar. He likened me to the Boy Who Cried Wolf because I told him the oven was emitting a funny smell, and now smoke, albeit white, light smoke, not something to fill up the entire house, even after he supposedly looked at it. "I'll come over Sunday," he said. I emailed and texted him late Sunday. No response. I emailed Monday, asking if he was coming on Monday. "Well, the AC worked every time I came over to look at it (which was a lie because the first time it acted up, he was here and called the repairman himself), and it worked every time the repairman came (when he came a few days later and somehow the AC repaired itself). And I came over last week and didn't smell or see anything (the guy has told me he doesn't have a very sensitive nose), so I don't know what to do..."

Hmm..let's ponder. You're the friggin' landlord and you don't know what to do? You take care of your property. You fucking show up when you say you're going to, asshole. You actually come over WHEN I'M HOME so I know you're not making it up when you say you came over. You investigate the issue more than just turning a knob and standing there for 30 seconds (if you really did come over). You don't tell my fiance that I'm the tenant who cried wolf. Where would that get me? I'm trying to be a responsible tenant so YOUR property isn't damaged, and you reward that caution with a backhanded "By the way, I think you're a liar" by comparing me to a boy in a story who wanted attention? You are a slumlord, and I feel sorry for the people renting this after me. Karma's going to bite you in the ass someday, and when it does, I am going to have one hell of a smile on my face.

Friday, July 18, 2008


While I was washing my face tonight, I looked at my hair. I got it cut quite short at my last appointment with a brand new stylist, and she definitely gave me my money's worth. I' m pretty sure I won't have to have it cut again before the wedding.

But as I looked at it, I noticed highlights. I thought this was odd, considering I haven't been outside all that much. And then it dawned on me.

Those aren't highlights. They're white, not gray, hairs. Stark white.

It's time to start the all-over coloring.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Hot in the City

Well, after 9 hours in the car yesterday, I finally made it to Arkansas to see my Wiley.

For those of you who have iTunes, you can download an audiobook called The Alchemist - very good story, about 4 hours REALLY helped me pass the hours by in the car (especially when the AC started blowing water vapor into the car and I thought I was going to end up on the side of the road).

Today has been wedding, wedding, wedding. We got a sample of our bottom layer - very tasty - and decided on the other three layers. From there it was over to the hairstylist, where my hair was teased and done all up like it would be for the wedding. Pretty good, but we'll see what I can do once I get the headband (any ideas for something that DOESN'T look like a tiara?). After that it was dropping the engagement photo off at a store in town and checking out the china and flatware I'd only seen online (I have great taste), then on to lunch to sample the BBQ we'll be having at our Friday night feast (if you like pork, you'll like this, but I got chicken strips and those were also excellent), and then on to the florist,who unfortunately didn't have anything for us because her computer crashed and her images were all on there. But we went through price and she said she'd make a sample bouquet out of artificial flowers so I could see the colors together. Out: terra cotta roses. In: Chinese red roses.

Now it's on to see the officiant, and then off to try to find a nice black suit.

But not before I grab one more sliver of cake.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008


The Golden Egg arrived today. I heard a door open. A man's voice said, "Hey there." The secretary up front answered in kind. "Have a nice day," the male voice said. And with that, the door closed.

Deflated, I went back to work.

Five minutes later, the door opened again, and a male voice said, "This was in the back of the truck. Looks a little beat up." My ears perked up. It had to be my dress.

My little red light on the phone lit up. "It's here."

I bolted the 12 steps to the front of the office and looked at my package. Poor wrap job. Can see inside. Where the hell is my dress? I rip open the package, and sure enough, there's my dress, all folded up and ready to be worn.

I tried to try it on in the bathroom, but with a corset back, that's difficult to do when you're the only one. It's not like putting a bra on, where when you were a kid, you were so inexperienced that you had to fasten the damn thing in front of you and then twist it around and then put the twins in. So I waited until tonight, when I could go to a friend's house, and she pulled and strung the lace in the eyelets, and a half hour later, I was strapped in and not going anywhere. It looks fabulous. I'm going to be one hot bride.

Monday, July 7, 2008


My dress left its point of origin in Ohio on Thursday. It sat in another part of Ohio until today. Then it showed up in Hodgkins, Indiana. Google Maps said, "WTF? There's no Hodgkins, Indiana." Kinda funny when Google Maps spazzes like that. An hour later, my dress showed up in Hodgkins, Illinois. A half hour ago, it left Hodgkins, Illinois.

Yeah, I'm a little anxious to get this was only promised to me a month ago! And I'm a bit worried that I've not seen any pictures of it yet, which is not what was supposed to happen.

So, if this doesn't work out, anyone got a spare wedding gown?

UPDATE: Now my dress is in Davenport, Iowa. I do not understand why it keeps going north and west from where I am. Anybody know exactly how this UPS ground shipping works?????

Sunday, July 6, 2008


A day can go so slowly when you are waiting for something to happen. I'm waiting for Wiley to call and tell me he's landed, but his last flight of the day has been delayed. In an effort to keep myself preoccupied all day, I've picked blueberries, taken a nap, talked to family (though I would've done that anyway because during the weekend my minutes are free), done a little online shopping, watched various movies and episodes of Nip/Tuck, ripped off a toenail that had it coming, read pages from a book, and checked to see if I knew anyone new on Facebook. It's this last preoccupation that has prompted me to write.

High school wasn't exactly a glorious time for me. I fared pretty well - was a cheerleader for a couple of years, played volleyball, dated a guy, was the principal 2nd violinist, seemed to have a fair number of friends....but I have only kept in touch with a handful, and I really could care less about the rest. My best friend and I had a parting of the ways, my mother died, my father continued his quest down the bottle, and I ended up living with my grandparents, who were cool, but I missed having a shower and air conditioning. But hey, I got a cat.

I noticed quite a few of my former friends on FB, and I'm faced with the option of pretending they don't exist or perhaps contacting them to see if they want to get back in touch. Many of them have children now, though some don't. One of them has what looks like a nude picture of Magnum P.I. as his picture, but I honestly think it's him. Many of them stayed in town, which is something that puzzles me - not just about my classmates, but people in general - I was never one who wanted to stay in my hometown. Jiminycricket, I'd been there for 22 years. Time to get out and see the world! You can always go home and visit - but to stay? Maybe I have it backwards and should've stayed home and visited the rest of the world.

And while I'm looking through their pictures, I wonder where some of them are (as the profiles don't say), and when looking at others', that competitive drive stirs.

Where does this come from? Here are people I haven't seen in well over 13 years (ohmygawd), probably will never see them again, yet there's this little voice that says, Well, look at what some of them have done. What about you? Look at your pathetic number of friends! Loser!

Can someone please shut this voice up? Apparently my booze of choice isn't working.

Saturday, July 5, 2008

The Day Before

In 15 minutes, I will wake Wiley up for the last time this year in Sarajevo. He will be on several flights tomorrow, navigating through airports and security, to come back to the U.S. It is very bittersweet.

I enjoyed my time abroad, even though I had my share of difficulties (language barrier, not a fan of lamb, stinky, slow trains and long busrides to get anywhere else in Europe). I enjoyed hearing about Wiley's adventures, though I hated the fact that I wasn't still there with him to experience everything first-hand. And I have an online diary of our relationship, which is always nice to reread.

On the other hand, after a couple of months, I got tired of the online relationship. Bloomington isn't the same. I miss my partner. We're facing a move at the end of this month (this will be the third time this year I've moved, not including one more at the end of August into our new digs), and Wiley's muscles will be a welcome sight. It'll be nice to snuggle up again, or take a nap, in Wiley's arms.

So tomorrow, while he is fighting sleep and stressing out that his 2 bags may be over 50 pounds each, I'll be stressing about him making his connections and if he was able to take his carryon and personal item on board with him. I hope to sleep late and then to work to keep my mind somewhat distracted until he arrives safe and sound at the airport near his parent's home. And then in 6 days, I get to claim him as mine again.

This week better go fast.

In the meantime, Scribblings from Sarajevo will probably undergo a few changes, maybe take a hiatus, as neither of us will be in Sarajevo for quite some time.

Time to wake the man.

Friday, July 4, 2008


Look at my blueberries. I picked over six cups today. That makes 12 cups in my freezer. Do you want some? Are you jealous of my berries? Mmmhmmm, I think so. I know that look. I know you are. You want my berries.
Tough noogies.

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Good Old Fashioned Fun

What a way to end the day. Almost upon accident, I stumbled across information that Lifehouse was going to be playing at the Bluebird here in town. Without a moment's notice, I grabbed a ticket. The last time I saw them was in 2001 at the Murat in Indy at a radio show. The worst part of the evening was when Jamie Lynn Siegler, who you may know as Meadow Soprano, came out and sang a song. She was the first voice behind the Levi's commercial where the low cut jeans were in and belly buttons were coming out. Atrocious. But I digress. My main reason for going was to see Lifehouse. Loved this band.

And in 2008, I'm still very much a fan. I took a hiatus from banding after my stint in 2001, and while I'd always kinda kept up with Lifehouse, one of their songs released just didn't really strike the right chord with me. But then I heard their new single from "Who We Are" and thought, Hey, this is catchy in a good way. So interest was renewed.

I got to the bar at 7:45 or so and there was already a small line formed. I got behind a couple of gals and stood there, one big alone loser. Luckily another loser was behind me and we quickly became winners while waiting for the doors to open. Since we both came by ourselves, we decided to go ahead and stand next to each other. Seeing the band was not a problem.

The first band was called Absentstar, a band out of Chicago. Skinny jeans are in, and I just don't know why. I could tell Derek, the lead singer, had on boxers because they bunched. Guys, here's a hint: we don't really need to see that. And while you're at it, having legs smaller than me does not win you points.

Turns out the guys are actually pretty nice, and a few of them grew up in Bedford. I've heard Bedford is kinda like I stay away. Looks like they'll be back at the Bluebird in a week or so, so maybe I'll catch them again. The music was good, but the words were difficult to understand.

And then there was Lifehouse. I'd never seen the new bassist, Bryce, up close. The boy is tall. And blonde. And really thin. Not my type except for the tall part.

I have to say that I just love seeing a band in a small venue. You get to be so close , and you're all huddled together to be as close to the stage as possible. There's just something about it. See more pictures here.

Thanks much for coming to Bloomington, guys. It was a great time. I made a new friend, I got some new music, and I have crickets to keep me company all night long. Crickets, Dear Reader, are friends that visit you after the amps have been put away and the screaming has subsided. Crickets will stay with you for a couple of days. Eventually too many crickets lead to hearing loss, as I'm going to experience sooner than later. (Yes, Auntie Em, I had earplugs - at home. I forgot, and yes I really did.)

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

The Lid, She Is Off

Need to vent.

Why is it so hard to let go of friendships that were false from the start? I have known someone for a period of years (about 8 or so), who I thought was a pretty good friend. Then I got divorced and I think it kinda creeped her out because all of a sudden, I stopped being invited to her house. Around the same time, I found out that this person had been talking about me behind my back (yeah, I know, in this world that's hardly a surprise), but what she said was such a surprise that I literally burst out crying. This was someone who I thought was a very good friend - who was close to me. I let her into my home and let down my guard, and she put a knife in my back.

Time has passed, but I am somewhat unable to let go. I remain cordial because we still share friends, but I really just want to tell this person that I know what she did and it hurt me, and that while everyone else thinks she's the bee's knees, I know deep down that she's not a nice person. But of course, if I ever do mention this, first, she won't remember doing it, and second, she'll go running around to people again talking about my confrontation with her. So in the end, suck it up Melinda and just go on about life and forget about her. Ruminating doesn't change the outcome. That still doesn't make it easy to forgive and forget. Or just forgive.

I feel better.