Monday, August 26, 2013

My apartment is starting to echo again

I feel like I was more active this weekend than I have ever been in my life so far.

It felt GREAT.

But I am worn out. And pretty sore. I wish I had a foam roller for my calves.

Friday night, I put more things together to be moved over to the new apartment. Official move-in day is not until the 31st, but since the new place is vacated, I’m moving things over in batches so the last day is not a whirlwind of craziness. Hulky gets back from his 3-week class in Maine late on the 31st and I should have the apartment mostly unpacked by then!

Saturday morning, we packed more things and started moving it all over. My parents and my in-laws helped. We took at least 3 car loads over, plus a few items that were carried. After lunch, a friend (our new landlord’s son & a long-time friend of Hulky’s) helped move over some larger items in his VW bus, like the living room chairs, our dresser, and the queen-sized bed. It’s starting to look a little lived-in over there, which is reassuring, but I feel like there’s so much left.

Then there’s the couch.

Uh.

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Well, we don’t have a couch anymore! I really hope the trash people will take the pieces… The bed frame part was taken by somebody who probably wanted it for scrap metal.

It had to come out in pieces. Who knows how they got it into the apartment 2 years ago; I wasn’t there. This time, Hulky gets to come home to the new apartment, all moved in. It feels good to get to take over that role, at least once. I’d rather we get to move together next time though! I felt very out of my comfort zone trying to orchestrate things on Saturday, but I’m proud that I did it without having a melt-down, even if I did shut down a few times. I was glad to have a day to myself yesterday. I made turkey meatballs & ate nearly the whole pound with some organic marinara sauce from Trader Joe’s & at least half a roasted spaghetti squash. I guess I needed to restore some of that spent energy!

So what’s left that I can do before the last day?

  • Clean out the basement (there’s not that much) & move those things over to the new place
  • Clean the floors in the old apartment & new (what’s still accessible anyway)
    • Back bedroom in old apartment = done
  • Clean wall in back bedroom of both apartments
    • Old apartment has marks from dark sheets
    • New apartment has a stain that looks like someone splashed tea on the wall, may ask if I can just paint that wall if he still has the paint
  • Vacuum the remaining rugs in old apartment & move them
  • Hulky’s computer chair

This Saturday, I’ll pack up everything that is still here, which is

  • Computers & accessories
  • Computer desks
  • My remaining clothes
  • Pots & pans, and the dishes I used
  • Whatever is left in the fridge/pantry (some spices)
  • the full-size bed I’ve been sleeping on
  • air-conditioner
  • the cat, her litter box, her “furniture”
  • TV
  • Wall art

It looks like a lot to me, but I guess it’s not that much. Maybe two car loads, not totally packed, and we can walk over the bed pieces. It’s just a block!

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Odd thoughts

We’re halfway through the three weeks without Hulky. He’s away at a research station in very northern coastal Maine for a class. The day he gets back, he’ll be coming home to a new apartment. I’m working on moving the little stuff now and hoping to move some larger items this weekend, so it’s not a huge rush on Saturday. I am a little stressed to be dealing with changing my name, changing bank accounts, and updating my address all at the same time, but it’s all things that I can take at my own pace. I feel very accomplished. The stress does not seem insurmountable. I am exercising, I just started running, and I am eating well.

But I sure do miss my husband a lot. I can’t wait to be doing all of these things with him here. I am sure having so much alone time is good for me in some ways, but it’s been a week and a half and I still come home sometimes, see the car in the driveway, and think for a split second, “He’s home!”

I recently had an awesome girly weekend with a friend. We went thrift shopping, which I have not done in a while, and I got some excellent pieces that would be suitable for work or weekends. I can’t wait for it to get cooler so I can start wearing my sweaters more often, including and especially the new ones. Sorting through clothes and even visiting Hubba Hubba, the sex shop in Central Square, kind of renewed the fashionista in me. Now, I’m not a fashionable person. I opt for comfort over style, but I think that does translate to some kind of style for me. I was a lot more adventurous with my clothes during college (and during high school) and I think I’ve imposed some rules on myself about how I “should look” because of work since then. I’m happy that I can keep my piercings and change my hair now. I think it’s time to re-address my wardrobe though.

Spending so much time with a “girl” also made me think about girl relationships in my life (other than with family). When I was very young, there was a girl in the neighborhood between my sister’s and my age and she very clearly liked my sister better than me. I wanted to be liked by her and I seem to remember more unhappy times with her than happy. In elementary school, I had two close friends that I spent a lot of time with. I often felt excluded or picked on by them. In middle school, I had a couple of close girl friends. I think we got along pretty well. In high school, at first, I had two close girl friends. We spent a lot of time together. Sometimes, I felt a bit left out by them, but I think it was just my perception & fears from that early three-way friendship. Ultimately, we had a falling out with one around the time of my overdose and then it was just the two of us. We were like sisters.

After we fell out of touch and haven’t seen each other more than a couple of times since high school ended, I’ve become very wary of having girl friendships. I think some of it is just my mental disorders. I’m inclined to worry about things and have probably built up my own insecurities over the years, even when things have gone well.

I guess I’m afraid that things will go wrong. It’s not like I haven’t had successful girl relationships in the past, but I tend to think I’m the one that’s going to mess it up. I know that the failed relationships weren’t my fault, especially in the ones where I was being picked on or used, but I still struggle with the blame. All I can do is try to be a supportive friend & have fun.

Monday, August 05, 2013

“She walks on gold.”

After we surprised Baba (and everyone else) by getting married at our engagement party last month, she let us know in no uncertain terms that a certain ceremony would need to take place. Soon. More then ever, Baba is constantly reminding us of her mortality. It’s awkward, sad, but I can’t help find it a little amusing too.

First stop of the weekend was breakfast at Percy’s, at Popham Beach. One of my favorite places. We played the old game of reading the provided Trial Pursuit cards to each other. They are rather outdated. I couldn’t tell you what I learned anymore. I think I used to know the answers to the Silverscreen cards a lot better as a kid. After breakfast, we headed into town for provisions (re: clothes) and then to Baba’s.

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I haven’t gotten the full story yet, but there’s some family tradition surrounding putting a gold coin in the left shoe of the bride before she leaves the house for the temple or church on the morning of her wedding. I couldn’t find any information about this online, but she insists it’s a Russian tradition, not just family. No one else seemed to know it except from her.

So, we gathered.

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It was gorgeous out. We rode bikes around the property. We nibbled some wild gooseberries (very tasty).

My dad put the coin in the shoe. I walked to the front door, back, and then we drank some mead that my grandfather had bottled in the mid-‘90s. It was a little bitter.

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Baba was pleased, that’s all that matters. I’m not doing my weekend justice. It was really amazing. We went to dinner, drank more, got interviewed by a family friend on her camcorder (it’ll be amusing to see my drunken responses at some point), got home, read, drank more, and went to bed. The second bottle of booze (not sure what it was) was much better, very sweet, bottled in 1983.

The next day, my husband (!!!) and I slept in, had breakfast, and read some more until it was time to go. We checked out an Irish bar in town, which looks like it’d be a fun place for food and drinks if we could stay in town sometime. It would not be wise to make the 8 mile drive over the river and through the woods to Baba’s, in the dark, with any alcohol in the system!

Baba told me, “She walks on gold.” I wrote it down on a scrap of paper so I wouldn’t forget it. I can hear it in her accent in my head.