my superlative

most improved?

so, sitting alone tonight, eating not-as-good-as-I-remembered Mexican food, I thought. A lot.

And I've decided that this year my superlative is most improved. I mean, I think it is.

Where was I a year ago? In Washington D.C. with my then-husband celebrating a year of being married. Getting gifts that were a day late and a dollar short that he only made 1/8 good on, and complained the whole damn time. I was working for a crummy boss, driving a honda that was on its last leg, the new RDU-AA president, and had a new cute haircut. I was spending all of my time either watching TV or working, it seemed. There were all sorts of things I wanted to do that I wasn't, and all sorts of things that I didn't want to do that I was.

Over the course of this past year I've made a lot of changes, all of which seem to be for the better.

I now have Mattie. And that's a huge plus, not just because it's a new car, but because it's a real, grown-up, yes you really ARE making money kind of thing for me. Quite honestly I thought I would never get a new car. Ev-er.

And my nose is getting better after the surgery. And I now live in a very nice, cozy AND spacious apartment. I'm getting to paint furniture (I'm thinking restoring furniture would be a damn fun business to go in to--mind you I'm not restoring now, just making cooler, but still). I have a very wonderful boyfriend, who is a real man (rather than being a boy) who knows how to treat a lady, and how to be kind. I have some really great friends in Durham--they very supportive, outgoing, honest and fun! (two of them got engaged yesterday! :) ) And Renee and Jessica say I'm back to my old self, which is good, 'cause I like this me better. I have a better boss, even though I'm not loving my job, and I'm no longer letting people walk all over me at work.

I have cuter underwear than I did a year ago. And better shoes. And longer hair. And I read more, and I didn't realize how much I missed that. And even though I'm taking the summer off, I'm going to grad school. Which is a really good thing because I think I should go.

I am much more conscious of my being self-sufficient, and not nearly so stubborn in trying to prove myself.

And I'm so much happier. Today happens to be an unhappy-Carrie day, but all in all I'm better off, I think. I mean a lot more to me now, if that makes sense. And I know more what I want, and how I want to spend my time and effort, and I know who is worth loving. Everyone who is reading this is on that list--of people worth loving.

So today is a bit melancholy, and a bit new to me. I've never before felt like I had so many options. Just a few days ago I seriously considered doing the work to apply to law school. Yes, really. And I thought about how in 13 months maybe I'll move out of North Carolina. How that's a real option for me. And I can move anywhere I want. And if that happens to be in or near Raleigh, NC, so be it. But maybe I will want something else.

As it turns out, being able to do what I want is what I need.

Not always, and not with disregard to others, but really, that's all I need. Is to be me.

Anyway, thanks for reading. Thanks for always reading. And thanks for being real people who really care, and who I really love.

goodnight, friends. I have to be at breakfast at seven am (sigh).

PS-On an odd note. I got an email today titled "wrapped in cotton" -- guess who it was from. Audrey thinks it was pretty slimy of him to remind me of that. hopefully I'll never be reminded by him again.

PPS-enough rambling, I know, I know.

mixed feelings

so, as of yesterday my legal separation reached a length of seven months.

and today would have been my second wedding anniversary.

what's a girl to do?

Well, this girl is going to Baltimore today. And then to Annapolis. And then coming home to her nice new apartment on thursday.

And tonight? Well, I'm going to go eat at Chevy's all by myself (they have great mexican food) and do a little therapeutic purchasing, and then I'm going to go back to my three-and-a-half-star hotel room and go to sleep. Maybe I'll take a bubble bath first. We'll see.

So, call if you're bored. Or not bored. Or just around and have a hankering for talking on the phone. Because I'll either be bored or not bored, and perhaps we can be bored or not bored together.

carrie unplugged

of sorts.

I'll be internet-less after 1230 today until noonish on Sunday. So no gripes about my not responding.

I am SO SO SO excited. So!!!

so excited

so, tomorrow we move. out. of this shithole. I'm actually embarrassed to have my friends help with the moving. because this house is a shithole. shit-hole.

but I am also super, super excited. (!) I will be moving into a newer place with a nice kitchen and working appliances. And no crappy landlord. There will be a patio, no jungle outside, and my cat's litter box will not be in my closet right below where my pants hang. So I'm excited.

hooray.

ooh, and I got new dishes. hooray again.

thank goodness

Okay, so first of all, I sold my bed. Thank goodness. And by my bed, I mean J's deceased father's bed. Eeew. Thank goodness it's done.

Um, and something else. So, I'm packing for my move, right? (I move on Friday) And do you know what horribly horrible horrid thing I realized?

Well, you see, I have this box I've been keeping of fun things that would make me smile on a rainy day. Full of Carebear birthday cards someone printed, or Little Yellow Difference, and poems by Chrissy Shackle. There's even a copy of the Earth Club article that was in the Tulsa World, and all sorts of notes, letters and CFT fun. Cards that really touched me--when people wrote about my dad's death, or when we had to put Bluey to sleep, or people just writing to let me know that I was loved.

And cards from you know who. So I collected all of his together and got ready to throw them away. I decided to read them again--I don't really know why. Maybe because my yay-I'm-only-celebrating-me day is only eight days away. Or because sometimes you look at pictures one last time and remember who you were, or thought you were, or what you became. And do you know what I saw. Something that SCREAMED don't do it. F*cking SCREAMED it. Why did no one see?

Every card had a formula.
They all said something like

-honey, baby, sweetheart, buttercup, etc.
-I'm sorry we're having problems with ______ (school, grad school, wedding stuff, anything at all) but really that's just because we're having petty fights since we're so perfect.
-Boy I'm glad you're smart and beautiful.
-We are perfect for each other, we just need to get through now and it will all get better in the future.
-I'm so lucky you're so smart/hot/fun/outgoing.
-We'll be happy one day, I'm sorry things are rough.

Every damn one of them. Yeesh. Maybe that's a good way to analyze boys. Read their cards and notes and emails over a long period of time. So girls--watch for patterns. And guys--don't be formulaic. Or course, most guys aren't like him. And thank goodness for that too.

also, I have another sinus infection. which wasn't supposed to happen, really. I count myself lucky that at least I am able to get it out of my nose since my sinuses are wider open. But I'm really not so thrilled.

I'm going to read now. The Devil in the White City is a pretty neato book, just FYI.

so.

I withdrew from grad thermo on Tuesday afternoon. And then ran for President of the KayDee Alum Association again. Which is dang funny, considering that I had planned on taking thermo and not running for Pres as of the day before. Does this mean I'm flexible? Easy going? Hmm.

Mullet, as promised.
It was a she-mullet. On a lady with a zebra jacket, purse and tall tall shoes (with a zebra pattern heel too!) and these awful red woven tights. Just awful.

It was spiked on top about 3/4 of an inch long, and bleached very white. Then, in the back, about 1 inch above the nape of her neck there was a line--where the dark brown/black hair began. That hung down to a bit below her shoulders.

Best part? I think it was an extension mullet that she put in to go with her outfit. Wowie.

Right. Today we go to pick out the apartment at lunch. Thank goodness!

a decision to make

so, I'm thinking about a break from grad school. yes, already. for the summer. I have a lot going on, you see.

I'm going to Charleston, Savannah and Oklahoma in addition to random Virginia and beach trips. Jessica's coming to visit, possibly Renee as well, and then Sterling will be coming east at some point too. Plus there's some Virginia people who may visit.

Ooh, and did I mention I'm thinking of taking graduate thermodynamics over the summer? Say those last six words again... taking--graduate--thermodynamics--over--the--summer. Am I nuts? (that was rhetorical, don't give in to temptation) Should I stop? Who needs a Masters in ChE anyhow? Yeesh.

Keep checking back--I have a wonderful mullet to tell you about. The best one I've ever seen, EVER. And I've lived in North Carolina and Oklahoma. Wowzers.

found a place to live...

http://ticonproperties.com/indigo.html

check out the topaz.

whew.

I almost got a cool couch, chair and ottoman for cheap today too, but someone beat me to 'em. :(

but hooray for having a place to live--still gotta sign a lease, but it's nice that we found somewhere. AND it's 7 minutes from a new strip mall with a greatland target, uno's, b&n, movie theatre, kohl's, ross, moe's, starbucks, coldstone creamery, super walmart, michael's, et alia. yahoo!

so, unlike gwen stefani

I don't love to wash in your old bathwater.

alltogethernow--eeeewwwwww.

Yes, that's right, this morning I had the fortune, nay, the privilege of taking a shower in 4 inches of standing water. And when I questioned my "landlord" about it he said--yeah, I know, I'll fix it tonight. I tried to fix it yesterday and I broke a toothbrush off in it. Boy, I wish someone had thought to tell me about this.

But, alas, no.

So I showered. And halfway through remembered that there's a shower downstairs. Which still would have been pretty darn gross--it's a semi-moldy shower stall whose shower-head leaks--but at least I could have worn flip-flops and not touched any walls.

What a way to wake up.

On a brighter note, apartment hunting seems to be going along nicely-ish. There's one place that having Gobi may be a problem, but if not we'll be seeing it tonight. And if so, there's a backup plan.

Also, does it make sense to pay $50-$70 more a month to get more windows, hard wood floors and a better location? Just checking...

Also, Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow? Decent, actually. Not good or riveting, but kind of weird and I liked it. And hey, who doesn't want to see Angelina Jolie in an eye patch?

riiiiiight.

you know it's a good party when

the guy and his date both come back with bruises.

Okay, maybe not. But it was still pretty funny.

Mine are on my left knee and right shin. A little piece of advice for all you future-oriental-rug-owners--use carpet pads so those things don't skid around on wood floors.

He "wrassled" with his dad, and his right shoulder got friendly with the ground.

I met a lot of family members, and they were either nice or super fun. I had a good time. I was kind of pissed when all the young folk ran ahead and left me walking behind them. I guess no one heard me say I didn't run unless there was a ball involved. But I hung back and waited for the parents and grandmother Helen (yes, Jess, that's her name!) and all was well. We took the shortcut and I got to talk to his mom about cooking and the lady wearing yellow heels on the walk and I threw a football with his dad and talked about fun variations on sports. We danced, threw the football some more, ate, and then I was thankful for beer and pizza, as I mentioned before. Then it was party time.

Yesterday was church, napping, errands and homework. Sometimes it's good to have someone to spurn you on.

A question though--am I too picky? And what's the difference between being picky and knowing what you want.

Like, having a certain kind of bread you wanna buy...is that picky? And, more to the point, does it warrant the comment, "wow, you're even picky about your bread." Do most people just buy what's on sale. Is this a girl thing? Hmm.

Also, Sterling's and my Project:Super Secret Phase I is complete. The man spent 53 consecutive hours awake to complete it. Well done. More details on this to come. I'm hoping maybe I can draw the sunflower for the cover or spine or something.

time to go to work now. with a sore arm, two bruises and a bit of a sunburn from riding around in a jeep with the top down and the doors removed. but I had a fun weekend. did you?

kill

that's what I'm going to do to him.

damn him.

damn his communication and his messages and his opinions.

grr.

About whom am I talking? My computer, of course. Who did you think.

Thank goodness for beer and slightly cold (free!) pizza. Because if my computer tells my one more time that I have 33.5 MB free on my external hardrive, and 9 MB free on my harddrive, and that I don't have enough memory to save a stinking 12 page paper I'm going to pick it up and throw it and let my work take advantage of the replacement policy the purchased. And if it weren't for the beer and pizza, I probably would have already done just that.

Grr.

Back to my final paper for ChE 575. how come I'm always the group leader?!?

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

Okay, so I have little or no reason to ask that (you do get it, don’t you?), but I couldn’t help it ‘cause I think it’s hilarious. Very, very funny, if you ask me. Which, by reading my blog, I think you technically do.

So, since I was political a few days ago I think I’ll be more philosophical today.

Last night, over beers at the flying saucer (which the guys refer to as the flying sausage, since there are tons of males and not so many females in Raleigh) we waxed. And waxed. And waxed. Wax on, wax off, y’know?

But it was good. A different way of thinking than I’m used to. And here’s the gist of it.

So perhaps, God or the Universe or Karma or whom/whatever gives people skills, abilities, experiences not necessarily to teach them (though they often do learn from it) but instead because they alone are able to handle it. For instance, you’re capable of, say, climbing a mountain. Or performing in front of people. Or handling going through a divorce. Or teaching. Or being an engineer or artist or comedian or lawyer or mother or boss. The end result is still pretty much the same—you learn, you grow, you experience. But it’s about your having the capacity to deal instead of you being subjected to it. Makes me feel a lot better about some of the shit-tastic stuff I’ve had the privilege of going through.

I also learned that I have a drinking super power. Allegedly, anyhow.
It’s the ability to drink and drink and drink and reach a drunk-ness plateau and keep drinking, and maintain the plateau. Eventually there is the possibility of a sleep incline ending in booting without rallying (they call it boot and rally instead of puke and rally here—weird, huh?), but that’s rather unlikely to occur. Anyhow, that’s my drinking super power. Reaching the plateau.

Tonight is the Hillsborough Hike. What’s that, you ask? An event at NC State that’s held on the last day of classes each semester. It’s awesome, apparently. What you do is this—begin at one end of Hillsborough Street and have alcohol from every establishment that sells it. Some businesses only sell beer or whatever on this night. It’s a HUGE. And you’re supposed to go chug a beer at the bell tower, which is cool too. I think maybe we’re going. Except that tomorrow…

I have to be at registration for a 5K walk at 830 AM.
I am meeting Otto’s extended family on his mother’s side.
We are celebrating his grandmother’s 80th birthday.

So maybe that’s not the best idea we’ve ever had. But I’m an NC State student now, and I should revel in their traditions. So I’ll let you know if we’re going.

Last, but not least, I need an opinion. I’m supposed to write a bio for our book jacket. Here’s my rough-draft. Think 50 words. Opinions? Am I missing something super important about myself? Should I leave something out?

A pun-loving ChEand KayDee from Tulsa, Oklahoma, CR enjoys acrylic paint, laughter and daisies. She has loved, lost and is thankful that she has learned. Carrie currently lives in NC, where she appreciates the greens of trees and misses the oranges of the OK sky.
thanks, yo.

more thought than I drunk I was

okay, maybe not. but it was fun to write anyway.

I woke up this morning in a teeny panic (which does, in fact, exist) worried that I'd done something stupid last night. But thank goodness, it all seems good to go. Whew.

I am very hungry, and trying to resist the urge to eat that yummy-looking granny smith apple over there, because I want to save it for the plane ride.

also, here's a conundrum for discussion.

in a state in the US native americans give over a trillion dollars to the democratic party each year. in turn, they get to continue having a monopoly on casinos. technically, other people are losing out because they don't have the ability to make money from gambling. however, that trillion dollars may be going to good use.

it's a toughie.

two-stepping and doing the polka

in no shoes

so, big deal, I kicked off my shoes.

and I'm a skosh drunk.

and crazy about a guy.

and I love being a ChE. And being a "glutton for punishment" since I'm getting my master's (eventually).

and I miss being in my bed.

and I go home tomorrow after a morning of presentations. and I'm tired and in a too warm bed but it's cold and I wish I were home.
and I'm sorta tipsy.
and love it when people say I'm cute/hot/fine/attractive.
and I wanna go home. Which will happen in like 17 hours thank goodness.

sigh.
more when my life is a bit less of a frenzy.

a few interesting amenities

so, where am i?

let's not talk about the psychological or spiritual or any-other-al sense of that question.

the answer, my friends, is in the Buckhead Westin on the 17th floor in a corner room in Atlanta, GA. I'm at our rep training event.

So, I wanted to quickly share with you about some fantastic features of this room. For starters, everything is "heavenly." The heavenly bed, heavenly soaps, heavenly towels. Sheesh.

Next is the volume control for the TV, which in addition to being on the front of the TV is also located on the wall of the bathroom next to the sink along with a small speaker. Wowzers. So while I brush my teeth I can crank up the volume on the show.

Then there's the telephones, which are everywhere. There are three total. One on the desk. A cordless one by the bed. And one hung on the wall by the crapper. So if you get a call with an atlanta area code, you know where I'm calling from. (from where I'm calling, I know, I know.)

Best of all (drumroll? toiletpaperroll? right.) is the shower. With TWO shower heads, both adjustable, one right behind the other. Ahem.

had to let you know. I'm in a fancy room in the Bible belt with a shower built for two. Ha. :)

off again, off again

jiggity jig.

I'm going to Virginia for another wedding. And I'm going to get to wear another cute dress.

And I never really told you much about last weekend, but I'll get to it.

I am excited. Good news is that weddings don't bother me. Not even a little.

Check out a group called the seepeoples sometime--they're pretty good.

time to get sonic, crochet and look at ads for rental houses, not in that order.

of contentment :)

So, getting some apartment stuff done--check.
Doing KayDee senior stuff--check.
Looking for places to live--check.
And finding some that appear at least semi-promising--check.
Finished taking test--check.
Found another four-leaf clover--check.
Talked to CFTs--check (I've been missing y'all).
Told Jeff I'm moving out--check.

whew.
and I got a backrub to boot.
Mmm mmm mmm I love getting to say "check."

Also, I love it when $2--yes, really, two whole dollars! dresses get lots of compliments. I bought it a while ago on clearance. And wore it tonight. It was very fun.

We inducted seniors into the wonderful world of being a KayDee alumnae. It was a nice reminder of why I like being Greek, and why I like being a Kappa Delta. It's always good to reaffirm your conviction to something, if it's something good and something important to you. And today I did just that.

Also, how does August sound for an OK visit? I know I might have a visitor then, so we'd have to coordinate. It's either then or the end of July. Let me know.

PS-happy earth day!

where were you?

Ten years ago, today.

I was in 8th grade in Bartley’s art class. Watching the live coverage and worried ‘cause Mrs. Looper, aka Nell-Bows, was in downtown OKC and we hadn’t heard from her yet.

The TVs that Cox cable had provided were all turned on, all covering the news of the terrible event that had taken place that morning.

And I’m pretty sure I was busy on my final project.

God, that was a sad day. And what do you do as a measly little 8th grader? Cry yourself to sleep? Make out with your boyfriend? Write a letter? Or a book? Or a poem? Take precautionary measures? Or just get royally freaked out?

I chose the latter, I think. I didn’t do anything about it, but I chose the latter.

At that time, I remember things like earth club. And the science fair. Mrs. Compton and putting “all hope abandon ye who enter here” on her door. Doing crosswords in class and talking through Ms. McNulty’s class. The eighth grade dance with our tag-team party. And the short black sparkly dress I had that was made of fabric akin to a slinky, the way it hung when I jumped up and down. I still own the shoes that I wore to that dance ten years ago. And now I’m working on a graphic novel with my date to that dance—the dance where Mrs. Butts put up Mercedes signs instead of peace signs, and the girls all sat on one side of the table while the boys sat on the other at Chili’s.

It’s funny how it all takes you back. Sometimes the way the sun feels on my arms and face makes me think of working outside with Mrs. Wakeley and Jonathan and Anna trying to complete the garden at Edison. And then it makes me think of my granny pulling up to get us from school, driving the old turquoise “bat-mobile” caddy with a scarf wrapped around her head in a failing attempt to control her unruly hair. I will never be able to forget how my name sounds when she yells it to get my attention. Days where French fries, apple pies and Dr. Peppers from McDonalds made my day. I listened to Pearl Jam and the Offspring and the Beatles. Oh, and the oldies and some Christian Rock. Man, I was so conservative then. To think that all along Eddie was sorta kinda right. What a time that was. And all I had to worry about were boys and homework.

And oddly enough, now a large part of my worries today revolve around boys and homework. Oh, and money and work. And my sinuses. Sheesh.

I miss the X-files
My So-Called Life
Trips to the zoo (and getting to have an eagle perch on my arm since I was wearing an orange shirt)
Riding my bicycle
My big green formica table
Zink Park
Plastering my walls with posters and things that made me happy (and also with a censored letters to cleo poster)
Rainbow and Bluey
Lucky
My big window in my room that faced east (which I still use as a reference point for directions in Tulsa—oh, and PS, who knew I’d be moving east, huh?)
The pink dresser
Softball
Blue Bell Icecream
Searching for four-leaf clovers (I’ve found two in the past two months!)
And my family.

I think I’m going to have to make a trip to Oklahoma this summer. I miss it something fierce.

Parallax.

Main Entry: par·al·lax
Pronunciation: 'par-&-"laks
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle French parallaxe, from Greek parallaxis, from parallassein to change, from para- + allassein to change, from allos other
: the apparent displacement or the difference in apparent direction of an object as seen from two different points not on a straight line with the object; especially : the angular difference in direction of a celestial body as measured from two points on the earth's orbit

Like a speedometer looking different from the driver’s seat than it does from the passenger’s, right?
Right.

Well, maybe that's how life is. Just maybe.

I talked to Justin today. For twenty surprisingly-pleasant minutes. I found out that he's dating four girls at once right now, but he's not especially interested in any of them. And it made me the teensiest bit sad, because he said "but none of them are Carrie." He meant it in a nice way, I think, judging by the way he said it. And it made me remember that he did in fact love me. He just didn't know how to be a husband, and he still doesn't, and he may never.

But it made me a little sad. I don't miss him--not even his funny comments, which I really expected to miss. But it hurt just a little, and made me feel sorry for him.

Operation: Apartment Hunt has begun. I need to get up the nerve to tell Jeff that I'm going to move out. But I think I'm going to let the dust settle first.

the conflict and the (sort of) resolution

me, one angry lady.

a confrontation about me taking my used tampons outside in exchange for him fixing the kitchen sink went awry.

I just wanted him to fix it, dammit. It leaks when you use it. You have to change out the water every five minutes if you're washing dishes--and I'm referring to the water in the pot under the sink. Yuck-o.

So, I calmly (yes, really) asked if we could talk, and said I wasn't sure if he realized what I was asking him to do. I'd do it, I said, but if I'm going to accommodate him could he please try to accommodate me (and fix the sink).

He said the sink wasn't broken.
He said I knew he had a dog when I moved in.
He said I have a cat, and he doesn't care for everything my cat does.
He said he's doing me a favor by letting me live here for $350 a month.

I said it's not about your dog.
I said he knew I had a cat.
I said that the sink leaks.
And that I thought we were both doing each other a favor. Me, paying $350 to live here. Him, getting a fairly easy-going renter and some extra cash.

Apparently I'm mistaken.

I had to excuse myself when I started to cry.

So I'm moving out. By the end of May. I just have to tell him that.

Also, I had an alarming realization while trying to fall asleep last night. I was sitting there trying not to stew over this (to no avail, I might add) and I realized that I am so upset by him because he argues like my dad did. In an unreasonable, hurtful way. And that, apparently, is more than I can take. Which is fine. (Sigh)

So, operation moving is now in full swing. Well, at least I think it is.

have a good monday.

I'll give y'all a weekend update later. It's kind of funny.