There is only one real issue with moving across the country.
Some of my shit and the people I like are mostly still on the opposite side of said country.
Now, my mother and I have email and phone conversations... And those are actually a lot of fun. It's not so much what she says as how she says it. First of all, the woman doesn't use periods as punctuation. It is almost always an exclamation mark. As a result, I can't help but read whatever she is saying in a very excited manner.
Example:
Yes, all of my packages come with hand-written notes and the Sunday comics. Jealous yet? It's okay. I know you are.
My mother is the embodiment of cute.
When I was a kid, I had a thousand food allergies (still do), and so I always brought my lunch to school, even into high school. I had some kick ass lunch boxes featuring Batman, Beetlejuice, The Crow... Lots of things. My favorite, however, was a plain metal lunch box.
Why?
Because my mother would write notes to me in magnetic poetry. I'd then try to send messages back using the same words. It didn't always make sense, but I'd wind up with people crowded around me, all trying to assist.
In any case, when it comes to communicating with my friends, I spend a lot of time online and texting in a somewhat failed attempt to keep contact. I have one friend who I have begun sending packages to, and I hope that becomes a thing.
As for texting... I look silly whilst texting.
I wind up either melting into the seat or trying to dive into the phone.
SO! Holidays are coming, and with Consumerism Day fast approaching, my boyfriend and I have decided to spend possibly a month on the other side of the country.
The issue?
...My boyfriend lives a very busy life, we both get flustered fairly easily, and he has no concept of foresight or planning in an effort to live in a "just in case" lifestyle. For example, we didn't buy plane tickets a month ago when they were cheaper, just in case... something. I don't know. I'd like to believe that he had a rational explanation.
Or, at least, that he thought his reasoning was rational. That's really all I ask at this point.
Plans keep me like this:
Even stupid plans. At this point, he could tell me, "Honey, we are gonna swim there!" and I'd be like, "YAY a PLAN!!! WOOOOO! Let's do this!"
Without a plan, I wind up like this:
And then like some horrible stress-made Katamari, I roll around collecting everyone and everything in my path.
Whoops, now that little screaming woman is kicking her legs and stressed out, because she is stuck in my Katamari-stress ball. Whoops... There goes a sheep.
Like a terrible buddy comedy from too many years ago, we were making calls and trying to figure out if we are going to spend a lot of money and three days on a train, spend a lot of money on a plane, or drive... forever.
Because I suck at being an adult, I don't drive, so I can't help him with that last part. I'd love to magically get over this whole thing, but Fate is a silly mistress.
The moment I got REALLY EXCITED about the prospect of driving, I got smooshed. You can read "The Birthday Bashing" for more details there.
I've been a little wary about drivers where I live since the 17th of November, due to that. Horror stories haven't helped any.
"OH MY GOD drivers here are AWFUL!"
"You haven't got your license yet? Well, good luck getting it here! I mean, yeah, anyone can get one here, but that's the problem. The moment you drive and you don't know what you're doing, DEAD."
Gee. Thanks guys.
As for a train, that would be neat! Like an adventure! We could sing songs about traveling out East while I learn about myself enough to get the confidence I need to make a good impression on his family! We'd have three damn days to do this, so why not? Why not?? Because I have no money. It's expensive.
The last thought... The easiest, fastest, also pretty insanely expensive just because it's so late thought... Is flying.
Morally, I can not bring myself to ask my parents for more money. No. I'm an adult. I've been looking for jobs and everything, like a real adult-type person.
So, in order to make it so I can possibly see his family or mine or any of my friends, I've decided to cut down on some expenses. (And cry hysterically in a corner about a $600+ charge I didn't know would happen from a car rental that went on far too long.)
I've also decided to see if I can save up for a trip to Aruba by July. His friends are getting married then, and I figure if he gets sick of me before July, I can still go to Aruba. Either way, I'm going to try to do that some how. If I fail, no real harm. If I succeed, maybe I can stop mooching off of my family like some horrible 26 year old leech wearing a Batman shirt.
This is what I look like in my head when I ask my parents for money:
Apparently I can't draw a leech so much as I can draw a worm from Tremors or Dune... But you get the idea.
...And still, I find common earthworms a thousand times more terrifying. Phobias are stupid.
Anyway, mostly, saving money means not really eating anymore.
However, that is only because we eat out a lot and I don't really know how to cook anything. The stove is about as frightening to me as the talking toilet in those "Look Who's Talking" movies.
I assume I'm going to burn myself and die.
Or burn the house down and get yelled at.
EDIT: I've been told that my never-been-used-but-bought-in-2004 crock pot will be sent to me. YAY!
The other issue with going on this hypothetical-yet-happening-in-three-days trip with my boyfriend is the prospect of coming back alone. While I occasionally can hop onto a train just like I used to when I was younger, and feel proud, these days... Not so much. I'll be ecstatic once its all over, but there is always this hint of a panic attack looming around the corner, waiting to pounce. As stupid as my little irrational fears were when I was a little kid, the ones they developed into seem to be worse, and affect my life in a more negative way.
Either way, he's pretty sure we'll get there. ...Soooo sure. Fine. We'll see.
...As for other very silly things that have terrified me over the years...
As a child, I had a lot of very irrational fears, as you may have noticed from other blog entries.
The stupidest, I think, was the fear of a sea sponge due to an episode of "Goosebumps". I looked it up.
It was called "It Came From Beneath The Sink!", and it scared the shit out of me.
I had loved the books, and so watching the tv show seemed like a good idea. I remember watching a couple episodes at a friend's house. This one was one of them. That same evening, (probably just that same week, really... but shh) my mother came back from a cruise. Excitedly, she showed me what she had bought for herself.
It was a sea sponge, and it looked just like that fucker from the show.
In my mind, it WAS that fucker from the show.
As such, I refused to go anywhere near the tub until my mother removed it.
Even while peeing, I would eye that bastard suspiciously, assuming that it was just waiting for me to look away.
This is all especially stupid because I loved horror movies, haunted houses and I OWNED the whole Goosebumps book series. It's just that random things would hit me funny and stick in my weird little child brain, sitting there, taunting and harassing me for years.
These days, I do not have such an issue with sponges, although I occasionally do have issues watching Spongebob.
I find him exceptionally creepy... but I doubt that has much to do with that episode of Goosebumps.
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