Things I Have Accomplished In the Last 48 Hours; Or, Get Me Off This Crazy Train Called Moving Across the Country

The following things happened between yesterday morning and right this second, giving me official cause to tell this move to "bring it, sucka" because I am knocking shit out of the proverbial park.

1. I have a place to live in New York City. Repeat: I have a place to live in New York City. I had to somewhat let go of my ideal Upper West Side quaint studio scenario in a move that is, in the end, totally, mind-blowingly convenient. I'll be four blocks from school, a ten minute walk from the Fairway, and a few blocks from the 1 line which runs from the top to the bottom of Manhattan. Fully furnished. Sigh. And Olive will have a playmate! Deposit sent. Lease in the mail.

2. I have initiated email introductions with two of my new roommates. A teacher, a poly sci grad student and me. Quite the serendipitous combo?

3. Student loans are finalized. Repeat: student loans are finalized!!! Yes!!! And in an odd turn of events, I think I'll actually be acquiring less debt than I would had I stayed in Seattle and done the full-time MPA program at UW. I mean, there are many reasons why that would have been a disastrous choice regardless, but whatever, conscience cleared.

4. "Cat Business" ... I'm lumping this into one because holy hell moving across the country with a cat is an ordeal. But, Olive officially has a vet visit in which I will pay a doctor $80 to look at my cat for five minutes and give me some sort of State-approved certificate that says she's healthy and can travel on a plane. I also managed to track down the Jet Blue-approved pet carrier at Mud Bay and am picking it up after work today. Also, there will be cat valium. Which hopefully doubles as people valium.

5. Discovering that my Columbia ID gets me into most every museum in the city for free. While one R. Matthews pointed out that the museums are all mostly "by donation" anyway, what jerk actually has ever demanded a ticket without paying? I don't have the balls. And now, I don't have to!

6. I have a plane ticket. I have a plane ticket. I have a plane ticket. On August 22nd, 2008 at 11:59 p.m. I will leave the Pacific Northwest from whence* I entered: Portland, Oregon. What? Your mind is blown in the fluidity of that Circle of Life connection I just made there? I think I just gagged.

7. Lost most, if not all, humility. I'M GOING TO NEW YORK CITY IN 23 DAYS! YEAAAAAAAYYYYYYY! Humility be damned!

Siiiigh.

*I know this is technically redundant, but "I will leave the Pacific Northwest whence I entered it" just doesn't sound right so bite me.

I need company

So there are a couple of things I am currently, desperately, physical-pain-in-gut missing at the moment. 50% of that couple-of-things, well, I am too coy to blab on about on my blog (though you know I'd love to shout it out). The other 50% of that couple-of-things is my cat. Last night it was raining (it is taking a marked effort on my part to not focus all of my energy right now on hating this horrible, horrible prolonged winter, fyi) and after a long day at work, a longer than usual workout, and a confusing (to the brink of tears) discussion with the financial aid dept at TC, all I really wanted to do was sit on the couch, pop in my "John Adams" dvds (nerd) and not think about life. Once I accomplished this, however, I realized what I really wanted to do was sit on the couch, pop in my "John Adams" dvds and not think about life ... while cuddling with my cat. I miss her desperately. I miss having a weird little personality around to contend with. You should never underestimate the impact of a fuzzy ball of fluff and purrs on your happiness.

It also does not help the situation (warning: most selfish statement of all up ahead) that she is currently living with her sister and happy as a clam. And at the end of August, I'm going to take her to New York so she can be a lonely apartment cat again. Am I the worst mother ever? Perhaps.

Me? Sad sack.

what walks on four legs and holds the key to my heart?

So Olive is now at, what I'm calling for the purpose of trying to make myself not feel like the world's worst mother, her West Seattle summer camp playing with her sister and the world's greatest yellow lab, Ms. Penny. A few weeks ago, while Olive was dallying around outside on my windowsill, the building owner drove by and, well, that's that. I'm not supposed to have cats. I was breaking the rules. Case closed. Long story short, Olive is gone until I leave for New York in August and my heart is broken.

Yeah, so my apartment is a little cleaner, and I don't have a million glasses in the dishwasher that have fallen victim to dipping kitty paws, and I don't have to live with double sided tape all over my couch blah blah blah. I do have a silent house, and no one to cuddle under the covers with me at night, and no one to greet me at the door when I get home and talk to me when I'm bored, and nothing to pet and scratch right before I fall asleep on the couch for a nap. I never pictured myself as a cat lady, and i still might argue that I'm more of just an animal lady in general, but Olive has got me whipped and I miss her immensely. I actually can't think about it without bursting into tears. I miss my girl.

christmas time is here

I had every intention this evening of taking you on a virtual tour of my Christmas tree. Instead, I laze-d out and decided to lie on the couch and read "Atonement." I am reading "Atonement" because the movie is about to come out, looks totally hot, and I hate being "the girl who hasn't read the book." So, I'm sitting here reading the aforementioned hot book and it begins to get extremely hot. Hott, you might say/type. Flushed, I diffuse the situation by turning on the television. It is turned to "A Charlie Brown Christmas."* Woah. Suddenly the moment feels quite, um, inappropriate. The crucial lesson here being that when faced with the decision to choose between "A Charlie Brown Christmas" and some hot nudie scene of Ian McEwan's imagination, I will always, always choose Charlie Brown. This is because I love Christmas. So, back to my tree. I was taking pictures in preparation for the tree tour on my bazillion year old camera, which I haven't used since this time last year for the very same purpose, when I discovered some very old pictures of my cat. If you've not met her, you should; I'm quite in love with her and she will change your life. Last year was her very first christmas. I was having second thoughts about showing the pictures I found, but then though, fuck it. If you don't love cute, you are no friend of mine. And so I present, Olivine, aged 4 months. You can now die happy. And this one because, well, obviously. Right, the tree. Here's part. A kiwi from New Zealand. *It should, for some reason, be noted that when I turned on the tv, I was actually kind of secretly hoping Dancing With the Stars was on, because I'm fucking obsessed with Dancing With the Stars of late; and not so secretly kind of hoping that Marie Osmond will break her face mid-ridiculous-too-old-for-cute-uncomfortable-for-all-involved-hip-shake.

a fighter

i like to think of myself as a pretty stalwart being. Someone with dukes! Someone who can fend shit off! My mother seems to think i am made of puppy sneezes and tissues, however, illustrated by the fact that everytime I leave the house, she tries to arm me with some sort of self-defense tool. It's usually mace, and it's usually attached to a keychain, but this last time she shook things up. Tried to pawn a small flashlight with the most godawful siren you've ever dreamed of hearing. There are at least 37 million reasons I don't take these things (come on, I live in SEATTLE. people aren't dangerous, they're just weeeeird.), not the least of which being, I am my usually own worst enemy. So much so that a few years ago when my aunt sprayed herself with her own mace, I was actually relieved that I hadn't done it first. The siren would have been a disaster. I would have reached for some trident in the middle of a harry potter movie, flipped that thing on and scarred a theater full of 7 year olds for life. Me hurting myself is way more probable than some skeeze waking up from his stupor long enough to steal my bus pass. Truth. "Olive, I don't appreciate it when you put your butthole on my hand." - Me, to my cat, just now Good night.

il pleut.

today is one of those early spring (not quite spring-like) days in seattle when i just have to throw my hands up and concede. the sun is nearly here. nearly. we get glimpses here and there; just enough to jog our memories and make us forget for a short time how goddamned miserable wet feet and frizzy hair are after 6 months. but. it's still raining. and today, i had to let it go, or perish. my windows are open. there is a warm and hopeful breeze. the rain does sound nice. olive is howling at the ceiling fan. earlier today she discovered crows and has not left her window perch since. one has just landed on the chimney across from my window. they are having a heated conversation. crow does not seem to be impressed by her ability to lick the back of her own neck. (a trick that will certainly never be lost on me) i moped my way over to elliott bay books this morning. as did every other seattlite escaping the weather. we do like our books and coffee over here. that is not a lie. picked up dave eggers' new book "what is the what," and am now taking my very first graphic novel for a spin: "persopolis" by marjane satrapi. will eventually get around to posting about the book i'm currently reading: "we wish to inform you that tomorrow we will be killed with our families." it's infuriating. and has spurred an africa obsession in me. more on that later. the world is frightening right now, isn't it? i say this and realize that for 90% of the world's population, the world has been frightening for a long time. can't wait to be off the brink of everything. i just want sunshine and peace already. in the meantime, olive will nap and i will bake adam some scones.