11 Jan to 13 Jan

Last night, I swear I almost had an orgasm in front of the beer coolers at Brix. Sophie and I got our Pancheros and then headed over to Brix for wine. Inundated with choices, I found a pinot called Double Decker and Sophie found a rosé called Sofie. She suggested we take a look at the beer then. And beer there is. I couldn’t believe all of craft options and imports. I figured, well, I’m sure they’ll have Hobgoblin, so I could just get that.

And then I saw it. I swept my eyes upward and was met with the blood-red label of London Pride. I said, oh my God, and might have drawn some attention to myself while I hugged the chilly sixpack and moaned – actually moaned – in pleasure. I could literally feel the waves of elation wash through my body.

That, my friends, will be the moment in my memoirs when my alcoholism began. Well, alright, I know better than that. Perhaps the beginning of my beer belly.

The bottle of Double Decker and three (I think) London Prides later, for Sophie – the bottle of Sofie and three (I think) Sam Adams later, and we were passed out on my couch with Sherlock on the telly.

I woke up this morning with a Facebook notification – an old flame (on a candle in the wind) had accepted my friend request. Um. Thanks, Sophie. I sent him a message telling him that was done drunkenly, from which he could deduce all sorts of shit, if he wants. He’s married now, it’s whatever. The best part though is that, try as I might, I can’t be arsed to be embarrassed by it. Normally, I think I would be. I’m not a drunk-texter, really; I tend to make a fool of myself in person. I mean, yeah, Soph and I were talking about the young men in our past lives and of course my mentioning him resulted in Facebook creeping, as all good ‘I dated this guy’ stories do.

But I don’t know. Maybe it’s my age or that I’m increasingly comfortable in my own skin. I just can’t seem to worry about it, and that is simply a revelation.

Still nothing about my car. I did get to keep the rental until Monday. I sure as hell wouldn’t take it to Canada – it never feels connected to the road, and is too top-heavy for a ‘hot hatch.’ I want to get rid of it. Could have just driven up to Wisconsin myself, turned it in there, and drove the MINI home. Should have.

Right. More of the retroactive daily prompts, then.

January 11th – This is your life:
If you could read a book containing all that has happened and will ever happen in your life, would you? If you choose to read it, you must read it cover to cover.
Well. If I wanted to read a book containing all that has happened, I need only read my journals (again). Some of those things are hard enough to revisit. Reading all that will ever happen in my life, though… I don’t think I could. I mean, if it’s going to happen, it’s going to happen whether I know about it or not, which means I can’t do much, if anything, to change it. So, what’s the point, really? It would make me a more nervous person. I’d be dreading things, I’d be impatient for other things. I get so much joy out of the surprises in life, that it would totally detract from my experience.

January 12th – Take two:
Run outside. Take a picture of the first thing you see. Run inside. Take a picture of the second thing you see. Write about the connection of these two random objects, people or scenes.
No. It’s cold and dark. However, I know for a fact that the first thing I’d see outside would be the stupid rental car. Every time I walk outside, I look straight to my car. I also know that as soon as I walked in my apartment, I would see my boots laying by the front door. I think the connection there would be that I’m ready to give the goddamn rental car the boot. I can imagine what it would be like if I had my MINI and saw my boots, then. I would think of adventures. I would think of the times I’d worn those boots in my MINI – going to the shops or going to my brother’s apartment. In any combination, I would say the connection is clearly travel – either by foot or by car – which is very important to me and the first idea upon entering or exiting my apartment.

January 13th – Clean slate:
Explore the room you’re in as if you’re seeing it for the first time. Pretend you know nothing. What do you see? Who is the person who lives there?
Alright, Sherlock, I’ll do my best. First thought is, Jesus, whoever lives here really needs to clean up. She seems to love the UK, and London in particular, which is made obvious by the three Union Flag pillows on the couch, the ton of British trinkets all over the place. Oh God, she seems to love Sherlock just a bit – look at these set photos, the blu rays are out on her entertainment center. She must like to write because she’s got a journal on the ottoman and a typewriter on the table. An Apple products lover – iMac, Macbook, iPhone, AppleTV, etc. Some Harry Potter things like a quote on the wall or photos from Warner Bros in England. Bit of a drinker – there are beer bottle caps on the chaise part of her couch and a bottle opener next to them. Her Christmas tree is still up, so she’s lazy as fuck, and it’s nestled among a shitload of papers and office stuff around her desk, so she’s a bit disorganized. She’s got a bookcase just for psychology books and then a bookcase for leisure books. Lots of candles. I’d almost think she’s from the UK because she’s got so much of it everywhere – there’s a Doctor Who mug, a teacup and mug with a map of the UK on each, and a shelf on one bookcase dedicated to The Beatles. She seems fine with a bit of clutter, because there really is stuff everywhere. I get the feeling the space is too small for all of her stuff. She’s older than 21, but I would say younger than 30. The diplomas on the wall help with that. That also lets me know that she’s well-educated. I’ll go with mad genius, due to the textbooks, degrees, and mess. Don’t even get me started on the psychology aspect.

 

Got too distracted trying to do January 14th, so I’ll leave that for next time. Hopefully I get my damn car tomorrow.

If Not Now, When?

It’s May 1st. Twenty-three days of work left; and a month from today, I’ll be on a plane to Boston with my folks and brother. 

It’s a bit staggering, I’ll admit.

I’ve done my dentist appointment (turns out I need new retainers, so I’ll need to get those before I go), and my doctor’s appointment. I am sure I’m up on my vaccinations. I have had a facial and set a hair appointment for the last week of May… 

I’ll sign a new lease this month, I’ll need to make a duplicate key for my folks, I’ll have to forward mail to mom. 

I’ll have a shit ton of cleaning to do in my apartment. 

Anyway, I was driving home from work today when “If Not Now, When?” by Incubus came on my iPod. I had listened to the lyrics before, but today they rang a little differently to me.

I have waited
Dined on ashes
Swung from chandeliers and climbed Everest
And none of it’s got me close to this

I’ve waited all my life
If not now, when will I?

We’ve been good
Even a blast, but
Don’t you feel like something’s missing here?
Don’t you dare

I’ve waited all my life
If not now, when will I?
Stand up and face the bright light
Don’t hide your eyes
It’s time

No umbrellas
No sunglasses
Hailing Hallelujah everyday

I’ve waited all my life
If not now, when will I?
Stand up and face the bright light
Don’t hide your eyes
It’s time

Incubus (2012). If Not Now, When?

 

I’m single, so I’m not saying it means anything toward anyone. More toward Omaha. I love Omaha. If anyone has seen “Shit People From Omaha Say” on YouTube, that’s totally me: “I’ll definitely want to raise my family in Omaha.” It’s true. However, I’ve waited all my life to do something like this – I thought I might move to New York and go one of two ways, Friends or Sex and the City. Then I fell in love with London. 

You can’t help who you fall in love with. Or in this case, where. I’m just so convinced that this is where everything is going to happen for me. 

A month. Good God. 

 

I’m feeling… really great. Content. Work is leveling out, getting less stressful, I’ve got the end in sight; I’m working out and trying to eat a bit better (get in shape for all that walking I’ll be doing in London, and all of that fashion I’ll be around); I’ve spoken to the flat owner again and it just sounds more and more perfect for me; I can see myself going to shows and concerts, meeting people, relaxing in the pubs, seeing everything I want to see; I am doing better in my master’s program; everything is falling into place. 

I’m ready.

Pahk the Cah

Moving right along now, this trip is.

This morning I booked the flights for my folks and brother, to and from Boston, as well as their hotel room; and I booked my flight to Boston, as well as my hotel room (which will also serve as my mom’s room since my folks are divorced. Could be awkward otherwise).

The host of my gorgeous flat called me and surprised me with an equally gorgeous Australian accent.

He sounds very nice, literally and personality-wise. He decorated the place himself, he and, who I think is, his wife will be renting another flat not far from this one. He said the area is great, super close to a lot of things, there’s a great little farmer’s market on the corner on the weekends, there aren’t any weird or bad neighbors. I like that he has been contacting me via email and now by phone since booking yesterday. He wanted to speak to me and get a feel for me, I know, and he also wanted to make sure I definitely planned on going through with the booking since it is quite a long time/a large amount of money. I totally understand his concerns – I would be the same way. I’d probably a bit over-communicative with the prospective renter just because I’d be so damn paranoid. We are complete strangers and I’ll be staying in his personal space. I’m sure he’ll be cataloguing every item in that place, just like I would, so that he’ll know right away if something is missing. I already appreciate the similarities – he’s probably a first-born. I’m feeling even better about this. “Cheers, take care, okay.”

I’m always afraid my American accent is going to sound so garish in comparison. Anyone else feel that way?

 

So yes, I’ll have quite the busy May and first week of June. I need to make a check-list: doctor appointment, dentist appointment, other important appointments, make sure my insurance stays when I take my leave from work, exchange some money, pay off store cards, pay off credit card and raise credit limit, research summer climate so I know what/what not to pack, get bigger suitcases, get a good makeup/jewelry travel case, pause Dish Network, get a laptop, maybe a new camera, potentially update phone and definitely make sure the bitch will work overseas, to name a few things.

Suddenly, it’s unreal to me that my plan is completely set in motion. I have a flight from Omaha to Boston, I have a flight from Boston to London, and I have a flat in London in which I’ll stay for three months. I’m only able to do any of it because of the incredible wisdom and forethought of my grandparents. Blessed is an understatement.

Fit for Queen’s Park

I have officially booked my flat in London.

It’s 2.5 miles North of Hyde Park, a mile from Abbey Road Studios, about a five minute walk to the nearest Tube station, and um, hi, a Starbucks is within a three minute walk. I believe I made the correct choice.

There are a ton of local delis and bars, it’s ten minutes from Notting Hill – where I originally wanted to be, there’s a Tesco right down the lane.

Twenty-foot ceilings, fire place, washing machine/dryer, garden, WIFI, cleaning services if I want them, etc.

Are you jealous yet?

It is absolutely gorgeous and so me – the decor, everything. I just want to keep staring at the photos. It’s going to be unreal walking in there for the first time.

Next step: book flight to and hotel in Boston.

54 days…

East By Southwest

I am far too cheerful for this to be a Monday, or for having gotten only four hours of sleep.

I spent a considerable amount of time at the gym this weekend, did some shopping, picked up 90% of the clothes that were strewn about my room (which is to say, 90% of at least 50% of my closet that was strewn about my room), my homework was done and handed in early…

A new leaf is in the process of being turned over.

I feel good, I feel productive. I feel hopeful again, not that I was hopeless before. Just a bit lacklustre maybe.

I’ve taken a look at Southwest’s airfare from Omaha to Boston – just waiting for my mom and my dad to confirm dates/times, then I’ll book that along with hotel.

I am so excited to have it set. I’m not even excited about graduation yet, it’s just a stepping stone at this point.

46 Days until I finish work
57 Days until I leave the US

‘Bout eight weeks.
Four pay periods.

I just noticed the image for April on my work calendar is Boston.

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