Not one of those...

You know what I mean -- the blog posts on myspace where some loser writes, "This is about you and you know who you are. We may never speak much anymore. I want you to look at yourself and ask yourself what your purpose is in life. Why does the drink mean so much to you."

Yeah, um - dude, I don't know who you are talking about, and just for that reason -- I'm not real sure I want to remain your myspace friend.

I've almost been in Tallahassee a year - and what a year it has been. I was surprised at how moving catapulted me back into Middle School. There were clear cliques and lines... And, quite honestly, I wasn't sure where I fit in to the whole thing.

Friends run the gamut no matter where you go - from fun to spiteful and accepting to catty. It's so very interesting to discover new dynamics -- no matter where you, somehow it's all the same.

Consider it shook.

I had dreams of boats. Which according to the Dream Dictionary I found online, represents either romance or escape.

I'll take both.
No, not escape... Although I do plan to get away for a weekend soon. I'll take smooth seas for a while. For the longest time, I waited for a shoe to drop. The last year has put me at the bottom of a garbage shoot, and while I wouldn't have had it any other way, I'm ready for a change in location.

Whew. Good thing we moved. ;)

On why I am in a bad mood.

I am in an awful mood.
And I can't seem to shake it. It's cloying and hangs off of me like dirty Harry Potter robes (No I haven't bought it yet). I breathe it in and it fills my head and all that comes out of my mouth sounds sharp and at the same time incredibly dull.

Tonight, we turned on the Democratic Debate (innocuous enough). I am homesick - again. And it's not just because I saw glimpses of folks I knew a lifetime ago and it's not because I have a hankering to visit Charleston -- it's a homesickness for a life I used to have.

I hate watching anything remotely liberal with K. He's rude and he doesn't quite know when to shut up. I manage not to watch (or listen) to too much Republican propaganda -- not that it's a sacrifice.

Anyway, I'm in a bad mood. Awful mood. And I need to f'in shake it.

Rocky Marriage High

I'm not sure what I thought the first few months of marriage would be - most movies stop after the wedding. Or at least there's some silly montage after the wedding that ultimately (and quickly) ends in a nursery. TV sitcoms didn't leave me much to emulate... Who would we be?

There's a lot to marriage. I didn't quite realize how it would feel different. I feel so much more responsible. It's BIZARRE. I've never felt so responsible. And it's AWESOME.

So, we moved recently. First, let me tell you -- I am not a good mover. I don't enjoy it, don't look forward to it. My husband is not that good of a mover either... Case in point - he has boxes at (at least) three previous abodes. Dude.

So, when hauling some old furniture to the curb, I was informed that I moved furniture wrong... I quickly called a moving company. Talk about a rite of passage - oh my goodness. Meanwhile, half way through the three hour move (as the very strong men were moving our countless boxes and heavy-as-hell furniture up very steep stairs) my husband looked at me and said (wait for it), "Thank you. You were right: this was a good choice." HALLELUJAH!

Our house is darling. It's in the part of town I love, close to both our offices, and delightfully quirky. I'm having to be creative about my storage (dear Lord! did we get a lot of stuff for our wedding!), but I adore it. Plus, it's all ours.

I totally lied.

Yup, sorry about that. I'm not giving up blogging. You don't have to read it or anything, but I'm so not going to stop blogging because I'm afraid my father is going to post a nasty message.

Screw it -- I'm a Diet Coke girl and while I tried to transfer my beverage blogging on over to boxed wine (it seemed like a good idea), I still drink more diet coke than wine any day.

I will not write regularly. I promise. But, I still have a craving to write every now and again, and this is place to do it. I'm jealous of the folks that have the free time to blog regularly. I don't have the time. But, I do love doing it. It seems I have ideas while walking down the aisle at Publix or driving my car down Miccosukee - I should probably write them down in a notebook like a real writer. Thank goodness I'm not a real writer!

Today is an anniversary -- a day that I didn't realize was coming up. It has been a year since I have laid eyes on Mel & Lynda. Can you believe it? A year ago today, my husband asked my father for my hand in marriage. And that crotchety old bear proceeded to tell him everything I had ever done wrong -- from the D I got in Honors Chemistry to the time I checked myself in to a mental hospital.

Gawd, good thing I told my beloved about the D beforehand. That would have absolutely been the last straw!