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too long; didn't write
well hey, I have internet again, though people who are trying to IM me say the connection is iffy.
I live on a real street in a real city where I have friends nearby and I now need to find a job; so I'm basically back to 2007 again and am utterly okay with this. Grendel is asleep in my huge armchair which M had begged me to throw out.
Five people showed up to help us move in. I am continually amazed by how much better my social life up here is, after a total one-month loafing around here, than it ever was in four years of life in suburban Atlanta. I've no cause to be wary. I give out the email address that I actually use rather than the one I provide to employers. We were chatting about the South with the guy who installed our internet, and he talked about the time he went to Florida for a vacation and was creeped out to discover that there were statehouses that flew the Confederate flag. This is the way that normal people feel about the South, and I am relieved to not be the only normal one.
Now it is no longer a wreck, I love my new home and am getting used to its eccentricities; the cooker is great except that it has one of those shitty American floor-level grills (WHO THE FUCK EVER DECIDED THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA), the dogs have been about 90% amazing about everything including the five-day trek north, and we went to Ikea to get shiny new things that I had one of my traditional holy meltdowns about having to get because there is nothing like moving to make you hate the idea of owning anything ever. There's room to breathe now; my room is like 95% sorted out so I get to hide from all the mess whenever I need to, and the kitchen is at least tidy enough to make strawberry cake in, therefore I did. And it's really lovely; we have four rooms, three of which are well-lit; we live behind a second-hand furniture shop, on a street that has nearly everything including a little green bit the dogs like and far too many eateries we need to try, and there's a bus stop right across the road from our corner. This is looking pretty good and I'm winding down into it, because I'm here and everything is here and I need to write and I need to be with people and I need to take a day or two to breathe a bit before getting on with job + immigration bullshit plus the rest of the moving bureaucracy. The guy at the city hall who looked over the rabies vaccination paperwork for Grendel and Precious went 'Oh so I guess you love LOTR'. No one has ever got it straight-off before ever ;_;
I live on a real street in a real city where I have friends nearby and I now need to find a job; so I'm basically back to 2007 again and am utterly okay with this. Grendel is asleep in my huge armchair which M had begged me to throw out.
Five people showed up to help us move in. I am continually amazed by how much better my social life up here is, after a total one-month loafing around here, than it ever was in four years of life in suburban Atlanta. I've no cause to be wary. I give out the email address that I actually use rather than the one I provide to employers. We were chatting about the South with the guy who installed our internet, and he talked about the time he went to Florida for a vacation and was creeped out to discover that there were statehouses that flew the Confederate flag. This is the way that normal people feel about the South, and I am relieved to not be the only normal one.
Now it is no longer a wreck, I love my new home and am getting used to its eccentricities; the cooker is great except that it has one of those shitty American floor-level grills (WHO THE FUCK EVER DECIDED THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA), the dogs have been about 90% amazing about everything including the five-day trek north, and we went to Ikea to get shiny new things that I had one of my traditional holy meltdowns about having to get because there is nothing like moving to make you hate the idea of owning anything ever. There's room to breathe now; my room is like 95% sorted out so I get to hide from all the mess whenever I need to, and the kitchen is at least tidy enough to make strawberry cake in, therefore I did. And it's really lovely; we have four rooms, three of which are well-lit; we live behind a second-hand furniture shop, on a street that has nearly everything including a little green bit the dogs like and far too many eateries we need to try, and there's a bus stop right across the road from our corner. This is looking pretty good and I'm winding down into it, because I'm here and everything is here and I need to write and I need to be with people and I need to take a day or two to breathe a bit before getting on with job + immigration bullshit plus the rest of the moving bureaucracy. The guy at the city hall who looked over the rabies vaccination paperwork for Grendel and Precious went 'Oh so I guess you love LOTR'. No one has ever got it straight-off before ever ;_;