life – Page 25 – p i x e l s c r i b b l e s

Here goes

I got up at 6 this morning, put on my workout clothes, set up my new pedometer, and went for a walk, taking out the trash as I went.

Almost immediately I was out of breath. I had to stop walking and force myself to breathe deeply. These days it feels like there’s a hole in my lungs, so no matter how heavily I breathe I don’t get enough air. I’m thinking it’s allergy-related, though it almost certainly also has to do with how out of shape I am.

After dumping the trash I walked straight back to the end of the main road, then turned into one of the many patio home complexes and walked back through there. I thought about going on into another complex, but I ultimately decided that I didn’t want to overdo it on my first day, so I came back to the apartment. In total, I walked a piddly .628 of a mile.

It was already hot when I walked, even though the sun had barely risen. My clothes were plastered to me by the time I came back inside, and the air conditioning was quite a welcome relief.

Yesterday I bought a stand for my bicycle so I can use it as a stationary bike indoors. I also looked at treadmills, but all the powered ones seemed too big, and I didn’t see a non-powered one anywhere. I may do some more research online.

The two bad habits I need to break are eating out all the time and staying up too late. If I can keep those things under control, I think it will make a big difference.

I’m considering making a rule for myself that if I do eat out, I have to have a salad. That might work. But I seem to always break my own rules, so I really just want to try to pack my lunch as much as possible.

Avoiding staying up too late will really just involve willing myself not to get heavily involved with something I’m doing right before bed, be it watching DVDs or reading blogs or working on a project. Last night I was burning DVDs and watching Detective Conan until I realized it was already 10:30. I wrapped up as quickly as I could and went to bed.

Something I’m worried about is how Sean tends to wake me up by playing music or talking on the phone too loudly in the morning. He woke me up shortly before my alarm went off today, so maybe I was ready to get up anyway, but I recall thinking furiously as I listened to him through the wall that we really need to do something about it. I even considered for a long time switching the bedrooms so I would be sleeping in the front room, down the hall from the living room, instead of in the back room, which is right next to the living room. But that would mean I would have to do laundry in the spare bedroom and then carry it into the other bedroom to put away, and having a washer and dryer in a spare bedroom’s closet just seems weird.

Plus it would be a pain to move our bed :>

I’m wondering if maybe a white noise generator would do the trick…it might also cancel out any noise from our upstairs neighbor, who can keep odd hours. But would it interfere with my alarm clock?

Beyond that, I have two things I want to do to get myself further into the “zone”. The first involves some changes to our second bedroom. I’m giving away the huge desk, and I’m going to try to find a small desk and maybe a shelf to go in there and then use the floor space for exercising. Eventually, when we get a flat panel television, I’ll put the ancient monster we currently use in there as well, for use with workout DVDs. Until then I can just use a laptop.

My hope is to arrange the room so that it looks inviting but is still easy to work out in.

The second thing I want to do is rearrange my office at work. I have a vague idea on how I want to do it. Basically my goal is to shift the “hallway” part of the room so that it’s in front of me rather than behind me. It’s really annoying to have people walking behind me all the time. My plan is to move my desk back so that my back is against the opposite wall. I’ll have a decent view of both doors that way.

Once I get my office to where I can see when people are coming, I want to start doing mini-workouts at my desk. Nothing elaborate, just some movement on a regular schedule. I actually found some software that will pop up and lead you in Tai Chi every 30 minutes, but I’m not sure I want to have some woman’s voice all of a sudden blaring out of my speakers. Still, it seems interesting and I’ll look into it further. I can also simply get a timer and set it for a certain interval, and do my mini-workout whenever it goes off. You can understand why I’d prefer to be able to see people coming…I’d rather not look like a complete doofus if I can help it.

I’ve come to believe that using my lunch break for a workout isn’t the best plan. I think when I take my break I should do some walking around, but I’d rather it be something fun than something I won’t look forward to doing, and something that will make me sweat enough that I’ll need a change of clothes. Changing to work out saps my valuable break time. So I think I’ll shift to an “exploring” sort of lunch, when it’s not too hot. I’ll do my usual trek to the Riverwalk, or I’ll go to the Greeneway, or I’ll find some other place that isn’t too far away.

Also, when I went to the bike shop yesterday I learned how to take the front wheel off my bike, so it shouldn’t be quite as big a hassle to get the thing into my car. So maybe I can bike a little during lunch too, or before or after work.

Ultimately I want to try to keep it interesting so I don’t get bored and quit.

Finally, I need to change my mentality. If I don’t exercise much (or at all) one day, that doesn’t mean I can’t do it the next day. But I need to stop thinking of every time that happens as “starting over”. When I do that I get all revved up with my “new plan” and then when it fails I crash for awhile. What I need to do is think of myself as continually doing these things, rather than starting and stopping. It’s just like how they say you shouldn’t “diet”, but instead change your eating habits permanently.

I will be seeing my general practitioner in two weeks to discuss the results of the bloodwork they took yesterday. Depending on the outcome of that, I may be starting on blood pressure, cholesterol, and/or thyroid medication. Come September I will be back on hormones to regulate my periods. However, I will not think of those as fertility treatments. I’ll talk more about that in another post.

Home

It’s been almost two years since fire destroyed the first home I created for myself and my husband. Sean found the place and I moved from Kentucky to live there. I decorated, I cleaned, I learned to get over myself and deal with things like loneliness and uncertainty. Over time I developed ideas and systems and I was in great shape. I loved the apartment–it was filled with things that reminded me of my home back in Kentucky and beautiful in its own right, with a cathedral ceiling in the living room and a gorgeous view of the pond below.

It was home.

After we lost it, lost everything, we didn’t have a home. We lived with Sean’s parents. There was no place for us to go back to, no comfort zone. We stayed there perhaps a little too long, until finally I told Sean we had to move now.

It was I who found the new apartment. It costs much less and is in a good location. The building is still fairly new. Our management company is fast and helpful.

I wasn’t able to decorate right away, mainly because we didn’t have many possessions to move in, but also because I had a job and wasn’t able to spend entire days working on the apartment like I did when we first got married. So for months we have been accumulating things and I’ve been trying to put them in places that look good and make sense.

Some things are different. We spend most of our time in the living room now, whereas in the old apartment we could usually be found in the office. The office here is more of a second bedroom with a desk and a closet full of dry goods, paperwork, and stuff we couldn’t find another place for. It’s never felt cozy, and I haven’t had time to deal with that.

Since there was only one desk and I was using it, Sean took up a position on the kotatsu in the living room, and he’s been there ever since. Now he says he doesn’t want to have a desk, but prefers to stay right where he is. To manage some of his clutter, I bought him a little black file cabinet.

Meanwhile, I got lonely sitting in there by myself, so I moved my laptop out onto the coffee table we’re keeping for Brooke. The desk wasn’t particularly comfortable to sit at, so this really isn’t too different. When my back hurts, I sit on the floor, and when I’m bored with that I sit on the loveseat Brooke gave us.

We have a large, old TV given to us by Robert and Julia, and a cheap DVD player I bought at Wal-Mart, and we spend much of our time at home sitting at our computers and watching DVDs. Sometimes I feel like I’m trying to escape into another world rather than dealing with the things that need to be done, or even the things I think I want to do.

The TV sits against the wall shared by our master bedroom. With that; the fact that the door is right next to it, allowing sound through the cracks; and Sean’s late-night schedule, it is often difficult for me to sleep soundly. I’m sure the same is true for him when I’m up during the day. Complicating matters is the fact that Sean will often sleep on the couch next to his kotatsu, meaning when I get up I feel like I have to be quiet. So I can’t even retreat into a DVD.

I’ve Twittered about my discontent lately, how I feel like I haven’t really had a summer, how I have trouble waking up in the morning.

Today, while sitting at my laptop in the living room of our apartment, I thought, “I want to go home.”

And it finally hit me. I feel the same about this place as I did about Cheryl and Reid’s. It’s not home. It’s a place where I’m keeping my stuff, a base to operate out of. When I’m not here, I don’t wish I was. Even when I say I want to go home, when I finally get here I don’t feel relieved. I feel resigned.

Part of it, I’m sure, is due to some actual problems with the apartment, such as the layout and our noisy neighbors and the fact that we have no view whatsoever. But I think I’ve also failed to take ownership of this place and the things inside it because I feel like none of it belongs to me. How much of it was given to us, and how much of it was purchased using money that was given to us? What here can I say is truly mine?

I hope when our lease is up next spring that we are able to move. Even though I have an idea of what’s bothering me, I don’t feel like I want to take ownership of this place. I want to start fresh, and put more time into picking the spot and the things I want to go in it. I want to find a place that doesn’t have the problems this place does. I want to find something cute, just large enough to suit our needs.

I want to stop wishing I was back in our old apartment, with all our old stuff.

I want to find home.

Stress

For about two years now, I haven’t really been myself. I think part of it is simply getting back on my feet, both financially and emotionally, from the fire. Whatever it is, it’s meant that I haven’t been comfortable, I haven’t gotten into a routine…I simply live day to day with no long-term plans, ignoring everything other than what I need to deal with whatever’s in front of me at the moment.

I’m tired of that. I’m tired of not having any plans on the weekend. I’m tired of not knowing that an adventure awaits me in the near future. I’m tired of chugging through life blind and deaf to the wonders around me.

So today, I took my first steps towards getting back to what I had before the fire.

No, I didn’t start a new diet or workout routine or buy a bike rack (though I think I will look into that later). Instead, I removed two stressors that have weighed on me for most of the last two years.

They’ve always been in the background, and I’ve always known that I was supposed to do something about them, but I never did. And time passed, and they just seemed to get bigger and bigger, and I just kept avoiding them and feeling bad about avoiding them.

This morning I woke up thinking that I would need to deal with those two things before I could move on to other things I need to do. I tried to figure out how I would do them, now that so much time has passed.

And then it hit me. I am never going to move forward in my life if I don’t forgive myself for the mistakes of the past.

These two things…I am never going to do them. I had to come to terms with that. Not only that, but I had to make things right with the people involved. I had to definitively shut the door on these two stressors, locking them out of my life once and for all.

So I did that as soon as I got out of bed.

I don’t feel infinitely relieved at this point, because there are still some things I do have to do, but without those two ghosts hanging over my shoulder, I feel better-equipped to do those other things.

There is also, I think, one more thing I need to forgive myself for. But that one’s even harder. Somehow, I have to forgive myself for something that wasn’t even my fault.

I’m not even sure how to do that. But now I at least feel like I can do it.

Self-confident men

Somehow, once I was into my 20s, I was extraordinarily able to get along with young guys. I don’t know if I can really make a blanket statement here, but I’ve had several striking experiences that have made me wonder what exactly the deal was.

I think the first time it happened was during one of my Japanese classes. There was this freshman in class who regularly sat near me–tall, lean, with curly auburn hair. He would sit slouched in his seat and grin and joke around, and, as I learned later from the guys on my Japan trip, was apparently something of a slacker. I liked him rather a lot, so much that one day I told him I wanted to adopt him.

The next time I can remember is the kid who sold me the children’s magazine. I still reread those posts and laugh. Boy, did he ever enjoy the brownie!

I had another encounter with a teenage guy in line for Order of the Phoenix. I was sitting on the ground reading the novel when a large group of teenagers formed up in line behind me. Eventually one of them, of average height with dark curly hair, sat down next to me, and occasionally he’d make comments or ask questions. I Twittered about him here. (When he pointed out the girl in question, I was like, “Whoa, she’s hot. Good luck, dude!” I’m such a good role model…)

At one point, the apparent organizer of the teens, who was very obviously a Harry Potter freak, started singing very loudly. This girl was also the guy’s best friend, as I had previously learned. She looked over and noticed that he looked extremely embarrassed, so she yelled, “I’m his best friend! The guy with the iPhone!”

He immediately dumped his iPhone into my lap.

“Hmm,” I said, picking it up. “Maybe I’ll just keep this!”

They were just fun, all three experiences.

Also, I’ve been watching Prince of Tennis lately, and I absolutely adore all the boys in that show. They’re all so unique, but yet they’re all badass, and they know it.

I think I am just attracted by guys who are self-confident, and I like interacting with them. It’s one of the things that originally drew me, and still draws me, to Sean. I don’t think the guy necessarily has to be young–I also get crushes on older men, such as John Glover (damn he’s hot). I just like men who are slick, and who know they’re slick, and who therefore don’t waste time on trivial stuff…but who do take the time for a nice verbal joust purely for the mutual enjoyment.

Oddly, I can’t think of very many middle-aged men I’m attracted to. It could be that I still think of my dad as middle-aged, so I avoid thinking of that age group entirely. Or maybe middle-aged men just don’t exude that same confidence. Maybe they’re just plowing along trying to get through the day, whereas the carefree young man has his whole life ahead of him, and the old man has seen it all and doesn’t give a flip anymore. It’s a gross generalization, but it might fit.

Or maybe middle-aged men don’t flirt because they’re married! I don’t know.

Those of you out there who are attracted to men, or who are unafraid to analyze your relationships with them, do you have any specific age groups that do it for you? If so, which ones, and why? What kinds of men do you enjoy being around…and are those types the same types that you choose as friends?

Back on the horse

I’ve decided to try the early schedule again, so I got up at around 6:15 this morning. Sean went to bed not long after that, so it looks like if I want to spend any quality time I’ll have to get up earlier. But for now, I feel at least like I’ve rested.

Yesterday I went to Outspokin’ to see about a bike rack, but as it was Sunday they were closed. My bike does fit into the back of my car, but only if I jam the handlebars in (I haven’t figured out how to remove a wheel) and I don’t like doing that, especially since it rubs some of the handlebar material off. Plus, it’s just awkward; it’s easier to lift a bike off and onto a rack than it is to turn it sideways and roll it into a car. And if I have a bike rack, it means I don’t have to put the seats down in the back, which means more people can ride along with me even if I do have my bike.

In other words, I’m hoping that getting a bike rack will make it easier for me to ride my bike, which will mean I’ll ride it more.

My mom and I were talking on the phone the other day about how exhausted I am all the time, and she said I needed to go biking and walking a lot like I used to, because there was one time that I visited when no one could keep up with me. I’m pretty sure that was this visit, when I brought my bike to Kentucky. And I remember…I felt good back then.

So this week I’m going to try getting up early, which means I’ll have time to work out and run errands and also to pack a lunch and workout clothes for my lunch break, so conceivably I can save money while I’m getting back in shape.

I’ve tried this before, this getting-into-a-routine-so-I-can-lose-weight thing. But I’m feeling somewhat heartened by the fact that I was, at one time, in pretty good shape. I don’t think there’s any reason why I can’t be that way again. My problem is just a combination of laziness and an awkward schedule, which I can work through.

I really do love being awake in the morning. I feel like I have all this extra time.

Of course, I don’t anymore…I’ve spent it all writing this post, reading old posts, and chatting :D So I better get in the shower!

Wasting my 3000th post

Last night, I dreamed that spiders were mutating into much larger creatures and taking over human spaces. They could move freakishly fast, but they also died quickly and their corpses were everywhere. There were two characters in the dream, a detective-ish guy and a beautiful female journalist who both seemed to have stepped out of a black and white movie, and they were trying to figure out how to reclaim the world. The woman was apparently in trouble for doing a story about the spiders. The man started discussing the economic impact of spiders forcing people out of their homes and workplaces.

“Migration was pretty stable,” he said, “until the teapot went into mass production in the 1930’s.” And then I visualized a line of giant, colorful teapots that stretched across the horizon, kicking up dust as they advanced.

“The Dust Bowl,” I said knowingly.

As the two tried to figure out what to do about the spiders and their own issues, they of course fell in love. At some point Brooke was there, and we were both trying to take photos of a girl posing for some reason, and I was complaining that I needed a camera with a faster shutter.

Meanwhile, I was so distraught over what in the world to do about the spider problem that I started a blog post about it, with the title you see above.

Obviously I haven’t been blogging in a few days, and now you know why–it’s number 3000, and I wanted it to be awesome.

This has happened before, where I haven’t posted because I wanted to write something “important”, and each time I wound up unhappy because I wasn’t posting. You know what? I like spouting my drivel. I wish I didn’t care that I will never have a huge audience, but despite my desire for fame and glory I’m unwilling to stop doing what I’m doing…which is chronicling my life in a way that is fun for me.

So here, internet: here’s a 3000th post typical of Heather Aubrey Meadows, with a dream and some indulgent self-analysis.

3000 posts is a big milestone. This blog has been around for awhile. It’s obviously not the oldest blog in existence, but I am proud that I’ve kept it up. So many other blogs die out, with their authors either disappearing or starting a brand new blog, essentially denying everything they’ve previously written. I’m happy to have left my 3000 posts right where they are, on the same server, my faults and foibles and naive opinions of the past (and present!) archived forever for all to see, for so many years. And I intend to keep it up. I’m the main character of my life, after all. This is character development!

So, sorry to everyone who I told about this post and how I wanted it to be awesome. It is what it is: an affirmation of what has come before, and not a digression.

Visiting

I don’t really want to leave. It seems like all the cool stuff is about to happen. The Jessamine County Fair starts on Monday, and tonight Mom, Faye, Manda, and Connor and Logan are going up to join Dad at the farm. They’re going to spend the night there and hopefully get the kitchen painted and more things ready for Ben and Manda to move there. The next time I visit, I’ll have to visit Ben and Manda separately…I’ll probably go to Mt. Sterling first and spend a night and then head to Nicholasville.

Everything’s changing. (Whine: Everything’s changing without me!)

But we did have fun. Connor and Logan spent the night with me and Mom last night, and we played in the yard and watched a short movie and recorded movies of each other, and this morning I took them back home so they could go swimming in their little 12 foot pool and then we all played Mario Kart and Mario Party 2.

I spent a fun evening with the band downstairs, too…I hung out while they worked on recording new vocals, and then we listened to music, and the night ended with a burger cookout at 4:30 am.

And I loved spending time with Mom. My first full day here, we went on errands to the bank and the accountant and then got matching cups at the Dish Barn and ate at Nicholasville’s new Zaxby’s. (I swear, Kentucky is importing all the cool stuff from Georgia, so I don’t see why we can’t move here. All we need is a Wife Saver, with a more politically correct name.)

And last night I watched some Smallville with Mom, which was cool too.

So I wish I wasn’t going, but I did have a good time, and I think I’m hopefully mentally recharged enough to get back to my routine…tomorrow. (Ugh!)

Logan says:

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I love being awake in the morning

It’s such a different feeling getting up at 6:30 rather than 8 or 9:30. Somehow the day seems so much longer, seems to have so much more potential. I think it puts me in better spirits.

I went to bed last night somewhere around 9:30. What woke me up this morning was not my alarm, which was set for 6:30, but a text message from my mom at 6:20 telling me her new phone number. I didn’t know Mom was generally up at that time :>

Regardless, I got plenty of sleep, so I was able to get right up, get packed, get my shower, and spend some time with Sean, and I’m still ahead of my 8 o’clock target departure time. I should get to Kentucky in plenty of time for the cookout at my parents’ house :)

I’m better prepared for the drive this time, too: I have a long-sleeve shirt to wear in the car and a tank top under it for when I’m out of the car, so I can foil the evil UV rays that have already left what can only be called a tan line on my left arm. (I guess I do tan, after all.) It’s a trucker’s tan, but it deepened when I went to the Georgia Golf Hall of Fame’s Botanical Gardens the other day, to see everything in bloom for the first time, and to see the grounds where Sean and I got married one last time before they closed. (Pictures are here. The zen hoop sure looks different with plant life on it…)

I don’t know if I feel so good today because I’m up in the morning, because I got a lot of sleep, because I’m off work for the rest of the week, or because I’m heading home to see my family. It’s probably a combination of all of the above.

It really does seem to make a difference for me to go to bed and get up at geezer hours, though. There’s something about the morning sun that isn’t the same as noon approaches, and isn’t the same as the setting sun, either. When I tried getting up early that one time to go to work, I felt really good all day, though tired towards the end of my workday. But right now, I feel optimistic about my ability to work that out.

Ah, mornings are awesome.

Okay, time to pack up the laptop and hit the road. I’ll try to keep everyone Twittered…but at the least, expect some Fourth of July pics soon.

The wall

I feel like I run up against a brick wall every time I try to pursue my goals. And if it keeps happening, I’m the one who’s going to shatter. But I chose to be here, and I chose to go in the direction of the wall. I can’t go any other way.

I need some other way of dealing with the wall. I can’t go through it, I can’t go around it, and I can’t go over it. So what the hell am I supposed to do? Am I just going to have to stay behind it forever?

Deciding to decide

Growing up, I had many ideas about motherhood: what I believed was important, goals I hoped to achieve, things I wanted to do for my kids. I wanted to be like my mom, first of all, and think of fun and educational activities that would keep my children engaged and prepare them for life as adults. As I got older, I started thinking about what I’d feed my kids and how I’d keep them exercising, and that’s at least partially why I get so upset with myself for being out of shape. Because it was also important to me to practice what I preached, and not expect anything from my children that I didn’t expect from myself.

I wanted to have a large home with a swimming pool and a game room, and I wanted to host my children’s friends often. I wanted to make healthy and delicious snacks for all the neighborhood kids and provide them a safe and fun place to play after school.

Travel was also very important to me. I wanted my kids to see more than just the town where they were growing up. But I didn’t want to be constantly moving and taking them away from their friends; I just wanted to broaden their perspectives. When they got to be in high school and college, I wanted to send them to study abroad, and take in exchange students.

I wanted to foster in them a love of community and a desire to serve. I planned to take them to retirement homes and hospitals and other places where they could volunteer and meet people and brighten someone’s day.

I also wanted to teach all of them to know their way around the kitchen and how to do their own chores, and to enforce it–and in recent years that plan included implementing some FlyLady methods.

I wanted to take them places where they could learn: Shaker Village, astronomical observatories, big cities, small towns, historical cities, museums, beaches, forests…anywhere that practical learning could take place.

My goal was to make sure that my kids grew up safe and happy with the knowledge of how to enjoy life, and with a strong curiosity and love of learning.

Another one of my notions about motherhood was that I wanted to absolutely make sure I had my kids before I was 30. I wanted to be a young, “cool” mom. I wanted to be able to keep up with them, sure, but I also wanted to be able to relate to them. Not so I could be their friend instead of their parent, but so I could understand what to say. Somehow, I always thought that 29–the age my mother was when she had me–was too old to be beginning, that by then I should already have my kids.

These ideals have lasted this long because “before I’m 30” was always so distant…but as I continued into my 20s, I started to see that things weren’t quite going to work out the way I’d planned. Sure, I knew somewhere inside that things wouldn’t be perfect. I might not be able to provide all the trips and recreational activities and educational tools and such that I hoped to–money, space, compromise, those and more factors could easily alter the end product. And I knew after three rounds of chemotherapy that it was possible my ovaries and eggs were completely shot. But somehow I still imagined that I would find a way to have my cake and eat it too.

So now here I am, 29, no kids, no plans to adopt or even to ask a doctor if there isn’t some sort of aggressive treatment we might try. Up until now it’s always been treatment to bring my body to a sense of normalcy. The goal wasn’t pregnancy; pregnancy was a marginally possible side effect. Given my FSH levels at last check, I am a little afraid of making pregnancy the goal, but Sean and I also haven’t committed to having children. We haven’t planned for it at all. Up until now, the idea has been that if it happens, it happens.

But I’m 29. I don’t know if I can just bounce around anymore waiting to see if something will happen.

I don’t know that I want to start trying to adopt immediately or anything like that. I just feel that it’s time to take a larger measure of control over my potential parenthood. Even if that just means deciding to wait. At least then the waiting will have been a decision and not simply the natural outcome of doing nothing.

Fat

I bought a new shirt yesterday. Weirdly, it smells the way my college boyfriend used to when he’d get home from his shift at McDonald’s.

Can’t really explain that. Think they have a McDonald’s in the sweat shop cafeteria?

The shirt also represents defeat to me, because instead of actually looking like something I would wear, it’s big, black, and mostly formless. It’s my way of finally admitting to myself that this new second tire around my midsection isn’t going away, that it causes all my cute shirts to ride up, that I am obese and embarrassed.

I keep thinking that I need to do something. But it occurred to me recently that maybe I haven’t been as proactive in life as I thought. I was at lunch with a person I’m still getting to know, and one question spawned a rehash of my life story. Everything’s connected in my mind. At first I thought that was just how it was, but now I’m wondering if it’s because everything I’ve done in my life has been reactionary.

I’ll get into this in more detail later. The point is, have I ever really managed to be consistently proactive? Or is my life simply a series of fits and starts and falling back into old habits?

Professional detachment

So I’m sitting at work, updating various things about tonight’s special election and some exciting news about two carjackings that happened on the same street within about an hour of each other, when my boss asks me if I’m wrapping up.

“Yeah, just waiting on video,” I said, as I was still recording the late newscast.

“Well, when you leave, make sure someone walks out with you. You know, those two carjackings.”

“Oh yeah!” I said. They had occurred rather close to the station, hadn’t they?

Finally those two realities–the fact that there were carjackers out there, perhaps two groups of them, and the fact that I was far from home in the middle of the night and I was going to have to walk to my car–came together in my head, and slowly and steadily I began to freak out.

As I was clocking out, Female News Anchor made some comment to me about the election and I somehow managed to respond, though at that point I could care less about whether there was going to be a recount in the narrow victory of Broun over Marlow for the runoff with Whitehead. I wanted to get out as fast as possible. I hurried down the hall to the newsroom, which seemed oddly bright and cheery for 11:30 pm, and I gazed around at all the happy faces, looking for someone to escort me.

Jeremy came up the hall at that point, and he’s a decent-sized guy, so I said, “Want to protect me from carjackers?” and he laughed and said sure and walked me to my car.

I thanked him and he started turning around too quickly for my comfort, so I practically flew around the car and jammed the key in and leapt into my seat. All around it was dark and quiet. Anyone could come running out of the night and try to take my car. And those carjackers, at least in the first incident, had a gun!

A car appeared on the road behind me then, so I left my headlights off lest the driver realize I was there and then, once it was past, flipped on the lights, slammed the car into gear, and jerked away from the side of the road.

The drive home was surreal. I decided to avoid my usual route, as that was the road where both carjackings had occurred, but the alternate route was dimly-lit and eerie. My eyes darted back and forth, looking for predators in the shadows. I stayed in the inner lanes whenever possible to make it more difficult for someone to suddenly run up alongside the car. When I came up on other vehicles, I tried to drive so that the drivers wouldn’t be able to see into my car and tell I was a girl.

Every time I thought about relating my terror in writing, it threatened to overwhelm me, and I had to growl at myself and shake my head and force my hands not to grip the steering wheel.

Finally I pulled into my parking lot. But did I feel safe? After all, one of the carjackings happened in an apartment parking lot, and the other in a man’s driveway. How could I think that anywhere was safe knowing that, even if both events had happened across town? They found the first car but not the second. If I could have driven across town in that time, so could they.

And of course, my usual spot right in front of our door was taken because I was so late in getting home, so I had to park a few doors down.

I decided to walk along the railroad ties holding our landscaping in place to get to the door, rather than walking around the cars in the parking lot. And it was with much paranoia that I fumbled to get my key in the lock.

But I’m home now. Home and safe. I suppose.

If my boss hadn’t mentioned an escort, I probably wouldn’t have even thought about the proximity of the carjackings to my workplace. But after she did, the fear consumed me. Funny, that.

The Date(tm)

I really like this date thing Sean and I are doing on Saturdays now. It gives us a reason to get up and get dressed and go somewhere and be together.

Yesterday we went to Fujiyama on Washington Road. We’ve ordered 2go-Box from there before, but we’d never actually been to the restaurant. The ambiance was great. There’s a little bridge over a fish pond out front, and inside there’s plenty of woodwork and shoji-esque windows and electric lanterns. There are hibachi tables and regular tables and a sushi bar. Unlike how the interior of Kurama used to be before it burned down, the hibachi tables aren’t all in one place, but instead scattered around the building. Each hibachi room is separated from other rooms by architectural features such as door frames, though the pathway is wide open so you can see from room to room. The lighting isn’t overly bright, either. The shoji “windows” along the wall where we were sitting were backlit by lightbulbs so it looked like daylight was shining through them. Kinda neat.

Unfortunately, the tempura wasn’t very good…I think we just prefer the batter at Mikoto. The dipping sauce didn’t taste quite right, either. Too much soy I think.

Sean’s sushi was great, though, as usual. He loves their spicy scallop rolls. I ordered the seafood udon because my throat was sore, and it really helped. It was very tasty too–there was some sort of fish in there, shrimp, crab (probably imitation) and scallops, plus mushrooms, onions, and that weird soft white thing with the pink outline that tastes good, but I can never remember what it is. Good stuff, but very filling…I ended up bringing most of it home.

After dinner we went to the new hhgregg to see about a flat panel television. American Express had a deal recently where they gave away 30 Sharp flat panel televisions for $800 each, instead of the MSRP $3000. We tried to get in on that but were unsuccessful. That whetted our appetite for a nice big flat panel, though, so we decided to check out hhgregg’s sale, which included an HD-DVD player and 5 HD-DVDs for each flat panel purchase over $1000.

After looking at all of them, a particular Sony model stood out to us as having the best picture, and it also had essentially all the features we wanted. We left and came home to research what people online thought of that particular television, and to see what other places were charging for it. Then we went back to the store to haggle.

Ultimately they didn’t come down enough on price for us to feel comfortable buying it, but it was fun to research together and talk about what we wanted and run around together and make the decision together. I know this sounds like a really routine thing, but Sean and I are such independent people that we often just do things individually, so all this togetherness was really nice. I’m not the type of person who needs her husband to be there 24/7, but I do miss him when he’s not around :)

When we got home we snuggled on the couch and watched a few episodes of Friends from seasons 6 and 7, took a break in the other room for awhile ;>, and then watched Hikaru no Go DVD 8, wherein the pro exam preliminaries begin. By the time we finished it was somewhere around 2 o’clock, so I reluctantly went to bed while Sean got into some serious WOWing.

All in all it was a really good day :)

I’ll take that as a compliment

Work Friend Sam: I saw you marchin’ out there. Did you need a ride? If you ever need a ride you can just ask me.

Me: Oh, no, I was trying to get some exercise.

Sam: You don’t need it! You get plenty of exercise typing on that keyboard!

Me: I wish!

Sam: You don’t need any exercise. You’re a pretty woman.

Me: Well, thank you.

Sam: I know here in the South it’s hot, but at least in the northern states you want someone you can snuggle into.

Don’t give in and go sour

I just heard what may or may not be the theme for the new Transformers movie. (Autobots are watching over you!) Willis describes it as “awesomely terrible, and reminds me of ‘Turtle Power’ in almost all the right ways.”

Ah, “Turtle Power”. Do you want to know something horribly embarrassing about me? Back in the day, I loved TMNT. No, I mean really. I wanted to be Donatello, enough that I had gender issues in gym class when it came time to go to the locker room.

Anyway, it always bothered me that I could never be Donatello because I wasn’t male. (The parts about not being a ninja or a turtle were secondary I guess.)

But then Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles–the movie–came out. One day I was sitting in the family room listening to the music over the end credits, and it happened. There was a break in the music, and the rapper spoke these words like a blessing:

“If you stand for what you believe in, and have the strength to do what’s right, that’s Turtle Power.”

…

So there it is, one of the most life-affirming moments in my adolescent years.

The pointing and laughing may commence…now.