I took a few minutes this afternoon to file the paperwork I hadn’t filed in the past couple weeks, and one thing led to another and before I knew it, I was cleaning out The Hell Drawer – you know, the drawer in your office that becomes the collection point for e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g that doesn’t have a specific spot to go.

I found my acceptance letter from WSU (hello, January 2004). I found an apology note from a friend while we were in college.

And I found notebooks full of my writing.

I think I’ve mentioned before that I used to fancy myself a poet. Well, this one… this one is one of the first/only things I wrote that I still like because it doesn’t have that horrible rhythm/rhyme that all angsty teenage girls think poetry should have.

Here’s to endless wishful thinking, forever daydream believing and hope eternally deceiving…

This is for never getting enough, always getting stuck, occasional good luck but usually it’s rough…

For those left wanting more…
For those left standing in the dark…
For those gone searching for the light,
trying to make a spark with hopes of
a flame
a fire
that will lead to burning desire
fiery
lustful
passionate
desire

Here’s to knowing what you want and knowing it’s out of reach.
Here’s to giving sound advice and not practicing what you preach.

Here’s to giving your heart away in hopes of receiving one in return,
only to have it smashed to pieces while you’re left behind to burn…

Live your life.

It was your average Tuesday afternoon.

The sun was at the spot in the sky you’d expect the sun to be at 3:45. It was about as warm as you could hope for it to be at the beginning of March in Eastern Washington.

The old man in the white pickup waved at me as we passed each other, just as I’d expect most people in town to do – not because I knew him, but because that’s what people here do.

There was nothing extraordinary about that Tuesday – everything was as it should be, nothing was out of place. But that Tuesday? That Tuesday was extra-ordinary.

There was something about that Tuesday – Tuesday, March 9, 2010 – that was extra-ordinary.

I left work with a smile on my face, because that’s how I tend to leave work these days: Happy. Content. Pleased with my day. I glanced down at town from the hilltop where my office is located and, again, smiled to myself – all was well. Everything was as it should be. Nothing was out of place. And then I got into my car and drove home.

Home.

Home.

For the first time since high school, I finally feel at home.

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On my best days, I compose thought-out blog posts – each word chosen with a purpose, each sentence artfully constructed.

On days far from my best (and also far from my worst), my brain turns to mush hours before bedtime and all that’s left are bullet points:

• Our new washer & dryer were delivered today. I have never been so excited to do laundry, nor have I ever washed and dried so many clothes, so quickly. I am in Domestic Girl Heaven.
• The Boy changed shifts at work, effective today, to the night crew. While you might thing this is a negative, it’s actually a pretty good thing (aside from completely losing Friday nights with him, of course). But this way, we actually get more time together and the dogs aren’t left home alone nearly as much. And he was home for the washer & dryer delivery, so I didn’t have to leave work for that. Bonus!
• I really, really, really REALLYREALLYREALLLyyYyyYyyYyyyyy… want another puppy. Emphasis on “ANOTHER.” Because, ya know, the TWO dogs and THREE cats we already have with us aren’t enough, and even the two chocolate labs we’re going to have (as soon as the boy builds a kennel outside the house) with us soon… well that just wouldn’t be enough, no. It’s just. Okay. I’m really falling in love with springers (Callie) but we’ve been talking about German shorthairs and OMG weimaraners and brittanys and and and AND PUPPIES! But for serious, The Boy wants a pointer (as opposed to a flusher – labs and springers are flushers) for hunting and I LOVE PUPPIES. I mean SERIOUSLY LOOK AT THOSE LINKS. I didn’t post them for the fuck of it, you know. CLICKCLICKCLICK. (Also I still want a beagle but pretty sure that’s not going to happen. This is either a really good thing or ABSOLUTELY HEARTBREAKING.)
• The Boy’s birthday is coming up and I have nofreakingidea what to get him. I mean, if money were no object I’d get him goose decoys and a duck blind and a new pickup (oh my!) but WE’RE BUYING A HOUSE so money is, ya know, kind of an object.
• Did I mention we’re buying a house? Yeah. That’s still ongoing. Looking good, but ongoing. And no, I don’t want to talk about it (any further than to say it’s looking good but is ongoing). Don’t even ask about that “photo tour” I previously mentioned.
• Oh, and did I mention I love my job? Because yeah, I still do. LOVE.
• I know 23 is young but I feel like I’m getting old. My LITTLE. COUSIN. (who really isn’t little at all any more and is actually at least a full foot taller than me (I may or may not be exaggerating here, everyone taller than about 5′9″ is TALL to me)) is graduating from high school this year and ohmygodwherethehelldidthelast10yeargo?

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate moving? How much I hate having boxes stacked in the garage, so many that I can’t even PARK in there? I mean, my god, how horrible is my life. We have so much crap that it fills our garage to the point that I can’t. even. park. in. it.

I know, right?

So I know I’ve made all these promises about photo tours of the house and a recap of the move and pictures of my gorgeous shoes and this and that and WELL SHIT. I’m tired. You want a recap of the move? Here’s a recap of the move. It sucked. I hate moving. On our last day of moving, I blew a tire on my car and was stranded on the side of the road while I waited for The Boy and his cousin to come rescue me (because shut the fuck up I don’t know how to change a tire SO SUE ME).

I honestly don’t know what we would have done if my mom and stepdad hadn’t come up to help. They are truly, truly amazing. My mother is a cleaning MACHINE, by the way – she scrubbed the entire bathroom floor (and that place had a pretty monster bathroom) by hand. With a spongey scrubber thingy. BY HAND. If it had been left to me I would have Swiffter Wet Jet-ed it and said fuck it. But then again, we wouldn’t be getting as much of our deposit back, either.

I gotta tell you, I’m NOT going to miss paying a deposit on places any more. Or renting. Or moving (because I hate moving). Or… any of that. It’s a nice feeling knowing (well, for the most part, we’re prettydamnsure at this point) that we’re not going anywhere for a while. Like, we can get a home phone now if we want (and we do because cell service? Not so great around these parts.) because WE’RE NOT MOVING ANY MORE.

Also I just got sidetracked for a good 30 minutes updating my blog roll page (go check it out!) so that should tell you a little where my head’s been lately. NOT ATTACHED TO MY SHOULDERS, that’s where.

So since I don’t have any pictures of the house or of my shoes to show you, I’ll put something cute and cuddly up instead.

Oh, there’s just so much going on in my life right now I don’t even know where to start! There’s so much I have to post about, too, but for now I’ll just show you the ADORABLE moving announcements I ordered. I think they’re a fairly decent balance of my girly OMG SO CUTE and The Boy’s non… girly… ness. Hey, there’s a tree. That’s nature. He likes nature. IT TOTALLY WORKS.

Totally cute, right? It’s not too pink… right? Oh, forget it. The Boy saw them and said he liked them and I ALREADY ORDERED THEM so he’s stuck.

Also, I will have you know I ordered them today. From home. NOT on my cell because I don’t have data coverage at home anymore since we MOVED to the new house and yeah, that totally means we have internet at home now. I haven’t moved from this chair for about three hours. It’s heaven. Like I told my bestie earlier… holy shit I love the internet.

Coming soon…

• Photo tour of the house and details on the move
• Full update on Sable
• House warming party?!
• Lots and lots (and lots) of online drooling shopping

I have had a not-so-great week… including, but not limited to, the following not-so-great events:

I got sick. Like, super sick. Tuesday night was the Migraine From Hell, followed by some sort of stomach nonsense that left me feeling prettttty damn sure I was going to throw up. (Hint: I never did actually throw up. This is a good thing.) The Migraine From Hell continued throughout the week in the form of the Bitchface Headache That Never Goes Away.

I went to work Wednesday but left by noon. I didn’t go in Thursday and today? Well, my bosses made me go home early. One said “YOU SHOULD. NOT. BE. HERE.”

So I went home early.

And then there was Sable to deal with. (What’s that? You want an update? She’s doing well and I’ll be DAMNED IF WE’RE AMPUTATING HER LEG. That is all.)

And then there was all of this nonsense with the house-buying thing. UGH. Send paperwork, forget paperwork, can’t find paperwork and WTF more paperwork.

So then I really started to feel like Dr. Cuddy in that episode of House. You know, everything that can go wrong DOES go wrong and she finally says fuck it, right? “Tell him I quit.” I know I let the stress get to me early this week and I’m 95% sure that’s why I got as sick as I did/am… but I was ready to throw in the towel.

And THEN, just like in that episode of House when Cuddy is having the.worst.day.ever… things started looking up. I got home early today to find my shoes from Forever 21 had arrived.

Yay!

So of COURSE I tried them on and they all fit!

Double yay!

Pictures coming soon. (YES, Lauren, of me wearing them.)

And then I got a few emails from our loan guy and he had nothing but good news, so I called the homeowner of the house we’re buying and she’s nothing if not supportive of our attempts to move in. And by that, I mean she straight up told me to start moving this weekend.

TRIPLE FUCKING YES YES YES!

Did you read that? THIS. WEEKEND. Tomorrow. She even asked if we had keys and I said no and she was like well shit you definitely need keys if you’re going to move in.

Okay so she didn’t actually swear like that cuz she’s a classy lady and all (and I’m so totally not classy) but WE’RE MOVING IN THIS WEEKEND.

Even if I am sick. Gr.

Also, it kindareally sucks when you call your best friend super super excited about moving into a house you’re trying to buy and she doesn’t answer the phone (because she’s on the phone with her mom or something? wtf.).

Forever 21 shoes – on sale!

Bianca Vintage Bootie – $23.80

Heeled Ankle Bootie – $27.80

Slouch Cuff Boot – $27.80

Wrangler Slouch Boot – $32.80

Stefanie Platform Heel – $20.80

Strappy Platform Sandal – $24.80

I am absolutely in loooove love love (a lá Lady Gaga) with these shoes. All of them.

Well, I mean those strappy sandals are a little less me and probably at the bottom of list. And the vintage booties are really similar to a pair I already have.

But I loooove these. And I’m ordering a pair (or three). Can you guess WHICH pair(s)?

I am still reeling from the effects of yesterday.

I’ll start from the beginning, because my brain is too much mush to tell the story any way other than chronologically.

First, work was absolutely insane, including incidents with vomit and an unplanned fire drill. It was one thing after another and I was lucky I didn’t have any other large projects going on that needed to be completed, because it just wouldn’t have happened. Let’s just say that I was happy to leave at the end of the day.

I got home and nothing was out of the ordinary. I let the dogs outside and went inside to change out of my work clothes. By the time the boy got home from work, the dogs were inside and I was relaxing in front of the TV on the couch.

That’s kind of when all hell broke loose.

“What’s wrong with Sable*?” he asked me.

Um. What?

He proceeded to explain that she was limping and he saw some blood on the porch.

Cue freak out.

About this time, she had walked inside and I could see very plainly that yes, she was indeed limping.

I picked her up to get the pressure off the back leg that seemed to be bothering her. She yowled a bit and I could tell she was uncomfortable, so I knelt down to lay her gently on the ground.

That’s when I saw the grey hoodie I was wearing had an addition: near my shoulder, where Sable’s hind legs were when I was holding her, was… blood. I don’t mean that I was exactly covered in blood, but it was more than just a few drops. It was enough to make me gasp and, of course, begin to cry.

Obviously, we went straight to the vet, where she was examined and x-rayed.

It turns out Sable was shot with a pellet gun. The pellet is stuck inside her pelvic region, and it broke her femur. It was, and still is at this point, unclear whether the pellet struck any vital internal organs such as the bladder or colon. We are watching her litter box to be sure there is no blood anywhere. So far, it’s looking good as far as that goes, but it’s been less than 24 hours, so we’re still not sure.

We’re looking at a $500+ surgery to repair her leg. The vet explained they would remove the ball-and-socket joint and create a sort of false joint. Sable would recover quickly from that. If we opt out of the surgery, the vet explained it would be a painful process and added Sable might not fully recover.

Hopefully the pellet didn’t make contact with any organs inside… not only because the surgery would then be more expensive, but because it would, obviously, be harder on Sable.

I didn’t even realize how much I really love Sable until this happened… truthfully I’ve been talking a lot lately about how much I “hate cats” and “never wanted to have cats.” But as soon as I saw that blood coming from my baby, the tears were there without warning. I couldn’t help but to worry and I’ll be the first to tell you that I was NOT a pretty sight at the vet office. I may have broken down sobbing when they took her to be x-rayed and I my eyes may have welled up with tears when they confirmed that yes, the wound was from a pellet gun.

I am trying to wrap my head around the fact that somebody SHOT my CAT. At first I tried to be optimistic and wondered if it could possibly have been an accident. The boy** assured me that pellet guns are shot at close range. Very close range. Basically, they would have had to have known Sable was there and been aiming in her direction. And why would you aim NEAR a cat if you’re not trying to HIT the cat?

This wasn’t an accident. Somebody shot my cat.

Currently, Sable is secluded in a crate to ensure none of the other animals bother her and her healing process. We have antibiotics and pain medication, and I’m spoiling her with all the wet food (as opposed to boring, dry food) she wants. I’m trying to give her as much loving attention as I can, but she has slept a majority of the time since we got her home last night shortly at 7 p.m.

I really can’t understand why this happened, or why somebody would do this.

Other than, of course, the fact that people are incredible assholes.

*For those of you not familiar, Sable is our cat.

**I still feel weird calling him “the boy” but I’m really trying not to use names on here. C’est la vie.

Okay.

So, here’s the deal. Every time I have some time at home to sit down and write – I mean really WRITE – and I actually DO (sit down to write, that is… like physically sit down at the desk, turn the computer on and all that fun stuff) … nothing comes out. My brain’s all, “Oh, hey! Finally! An outlet! It’s about time! *PFFFFFFFFFFffffffffftttt….*”

Annnnnnd nothing. All day long (well, maybe not ALL day because I do, you know, actually work while I’m at work (contrary to popular belief)) I think about all my stresses and how writing alleviates that stress and I think about all this other really great stuff I’m currently in love with that I’d like to share with y’all… and then? Nothing. A big fat effing nothing.

By the time I get HERE, my head is all bills and late fees and ohfuck we-have-less-than-three-weeks-until-we’re-homeless ohfuck. By the time I get HERE, Solitaire is open and I’m all “I just have to win ONCE and then I’ll do [fill in the blank].” And then I lose SEVENTEEN GAMES IN. A. ROW. And then I forget about writing altogether because seriously, whoever invented that game must be simultaneously shot and celebrated. Who knew such a simple game could be so addictive? WHO KNEW.

By the time I get HERE, I feel lost among the pile of dishes here and the multiple piles of laundry there and good lord the piles of dog hair EVERYWHERE, not to mention the piles of worthless shit I’ve acquired during my 23 years on this planet that I desperately need to just throw. away. already.

By the time I get HERE, part of me doesn’t even want to be HERE anymore. I’d rather be on the couch or, more likely, in bed. Because I shit you not, I have been asleep on a regular basis by 10 p.m. every night (because I wake up at 5:30 every morning). This coming from the girl who was almost always still awake at 3 in the morning and could, without a problem, sleep past noon daily.

I mean, not that I don’t sleep in on the weekends now. It’s just that sleeping in is more like 10 a.m. than 2 p.m. now. Hmph.

One last note? If you hear anything about some missing dogs in my area, who may or may not have been shot and buried in somebody’s yard*… just go ahead and ignore that. It’s not like we’ve had A SHITLOAD of effing dogs in our yard for the past two weeks, SCRATCHING ON THE FRONT DOOR and nudging the sliding glass door in the bedroom and waking us up in the middle of the night trying to get to Callie because she’s in heat right now. Nope, that hasn’t happened. Not once.

*I’M KIDDING. I’M SOOO KIDDING. We would. not. do. that. I yell and scream at the bastards, and maybe throw some sticks at them, but I would NEVER hurt an animal. But the owners who let them wander around the neighborhood constantly? Yeah, they’re a different story.

I tried. I really, really tried.

Seriously, I tried to get into the Superbowl. I even went so far as to pick a side – saying that, although I don’t particularly like him, I felt the need to root for Reggie Bush and the Saints. Go Pac-10.

But sometime during the first quarter, the beginnings of a headache set in (though I’m pretty sure that has more to do with the fact that our washer and dryer make it sound like a helicopter is taking off from our bathroom). And before halftime even set it, I retreated to the bedroom and the computer… after taking a little dose of Advil, that is.

And then I saw the previews for the new Alice in Wonderland by Tim Burton with Johnny Depp and holyshit. I love me some Johnny but WTF are he and Tim Burton doing to the classics? First they butchered Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (or is it Willie Wonka? I never could remember which was which) and now this? I am NOT. OKAY. with this.

But anyway, retreat to the bedroom I did… but I kept the Superbowl on the TV in here, too. I think I feel like I might miss out on something the rest of the world will be talking about later and y’all, I don’t have the internet so I get PLENTY of that already, thankyouverymuch. Like the new Facebook? Yeah, WHAT NEW FACEBOOK? I haven’t seen it. Bitches.

A few updates, because a couple of you might be wondering (and we all know how horrible I am at, you know, actually calling the people I care about and keeping in touch and all that)…

THE HOUSE
We’re still on track with buying the house. I’ve been a little stressed about it (because we’re BUYING A HOUSE) and had a mini-breakdown… but now the boy is MUCH more involved in the whole process. It’s going a little (LOT) more slowly than I’d like, and earlier today I had a thought: Today is February 7. We have to move out by March 1. THAT’S 20-ISH DAYS. THREE WEEKS. And then I passed out.

So yeah, there’s that little bit of stress in my life. I’m hoping to figure something out for sure with that whole ordeal this week sooooo… wish us luck. And come help us pack/move/clean.

THE JOB
Still love the job, still not going to talk about it in detail here. I will say that I still feel a bit overwhelmed and confused at times, but everybody I work with, including my bosses, are really understanding and helpful.