We are finally out of "Le Shithole" and into a much better place. The journey here was quite exciting. For one thing, our old lease isn't really up for a couple more weeks, but I'll get to that.
First, I'll start this one off letting you know about the wounds I received before we even really started moving.
See, I was putting laundry away, like an adult, when I realized that there was
A. a little dent in the floor where a slightly pushed in foot of a dresser could catch and
B. a reason why the paperwork for the dresser said to NEVER have more than one drawer open at a time, which had never been an issue before that moment.
Cue the dresser slowly tipping... Okay, maybe it was fast, but it felt like slow motion. It also seemed that I suddenly had no legs:
Instead of, you know, MOVING OUT OF THE WAY, I decided I was Wonder Woman and that I was going to save the dresser.
Fun fact: I am not Wonder Woman.
That being said, I did manage to not only "save the dresser" which wouldn't have died or something anyway, but I also saved the pig.
Yes. Yes, I saved the giant, shiny, metallic purple piggy bank, which was filled with coins, as it HURLED AT MY FACE.
This is not the last image anyone wants to see before they die:
The goggles make him go faster.
Totally a sign to move, we sent our old landlord a notice and when she didn't respond, we called to make sure she got it.
She got it.
She just didn't seem to particularly care.
Okay then.
So, she scheduled a time for showing the place, (even though she hadn't looked at it to clear us first but whatever) and we were all fine with that.
We were frantically packing and cleaning to get it all ready, so imagine our surprise when she showed up a day early to show the apartment.
When we called her, she complained about the state of the apartment.
...The apartment we still lived in.
The apartment we still had our crap in.
...
The apartment she basically broke into, assuming no one was home, to show to a stranger when we still have stuff there.
What followed was a crazed mess of WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW.
In being so frantic, my well meaning, wonderful, perfect boyfriend managed to drop a shelf on my leg.
Yes, THAT leg.
Here is the map of pain that was my leg:
To clarify, the dropping of the dresser before hadn't just bashed me in the knee, but also did some interesting things to my shoulder and arm, due to Wonder Womaning it.
So, my right arm kinda matched my left leg:
I, of course, then hurt my other leg multiple times on my corner desk.
Still, the frantic packing had to continue.
This meant that clearly labeled, well packed masterpieces quickly gave way to these:
My handwriting often mirrors my attitude and lifestyle of "GARBLEIFJLKEFJIECFALFUCKNUTS"
My legs were still hurting a couple of days later, and steadily getting worse with each movement.
Eventually, it felt like my legs were somehow too long, trying to get up to that old, shitty, third floor apartment.
After a few walks back and forth, I resigned myself to the fact that I was going to be mostly useless carrying things, so I stuck to packing and organizing where I could.
Pretty soon, I could barely even feel the pain, because I could barely even feel my legs at all.
I'm amazed the men-folk didn't die.
My knight didn't want to stop, which led to us kind of sitting him down to tell him he had a problem.
Who knew moving might need an intervention?
We were so thankful that a few of our best buddies came to help out too! Poor bastards stayed with us until it was downright unreasonable for them to bother.
There was, of course, a causality. There is always one.
Thankfully, this will be an easy fix, as it was only the glass part that cracked.
I was unreasonably sad about it, but not because of what it was, so much as general stress, pain, and remembering that I've had the damn thing for a decade in storage and can only NOW comfortably set it up where I live.
Once it's fixed again, it shall resemble Lydia's vanity from the Beetlejuice cartoon.
The new place is amazing, by the way. We effectively moved from the city to the country and it's not even that far away.
We even got some new furniture for the occasion. I got rid of my corner desk, which had served me well for a good seven or so months, and got a real writing/computer desk.
Is now:
And!
ALSO!
The kitchen is huge.
Oh, and
We even get a new bed on Tuesday!!
...We also have spiders.
BUT it's a giant step up from cockroaches and mice, so awesome.
We quickly realized that we each have three keys. Two are for the front door, and one is for our apartment. This is awesomely secure, but none of them are labeled yet sooo...
Extra fun in the dark!
I made the decision to get key caps for them, because I'm a cool kid. I got too many so that others can use them too, if so desired.
The ones I actually ordered are a pack of kitten heads, multi-colored skulls, and ones to make the key look like a guitar. ... "Keytar"
I only didn't get Oswald the Lucky Rabbit because I figured his ears would come off right quick and I'd be sad.
Once we were done the initial moving in, of course we had somewhere else to go. My Knight in Pinstripes had already promised a friend that he would see her on her birthday, and he wanted me to meet her.
We also dragged our housemate, who deals with all of our shit rather amazingly well.
It wasn't as busy as we thought it would be. Plus, we got to hear a woman who sounds like a less strung out Janice Joplin sing Lady Gaga, so that was cool.
Rob's friend (who apparently knows a bunch of my good friends? *sings* It's a Small World After All) recognized his need for a hair cut and may still wind up taking care of that for him
From Bruce Campbell look-a-like to Mullet Man.
We are still working on unpacking. Every now and then, I get frustrated and give up for a little while.
For example, I couldn't find the two Batman pieces, one Wonder Woman piece, or one Superman piece, so I just-
You go, Super Wonder Woman Man!
With all of this going on, I've felt a little burnt out because I also have other stuff I should be doing.
I have a million projects, papers, and presentations I should be working on for school.
I haven't had time to draw beyond sketches, this blog, and doodles in my notes, so I feel weird spiritually.
I've been so burnt out... All I want to do is sit and play games.
BUT I'm getting back in the swing of things. I present something I don't even remember what next week, and I'm feeling pretty confident that it'll go smoothly.
Getting this post up feels good too, so there's some emotional balance there.
I've got the weekend to catch up.
I've even been driving and eating alone more often, so those are good signs for my mental health.
I think we'll be very happy here.
This'll be a quick post, attempting to explain what is currently happening in my life with three images.
Ready?
#1:
Seriously. Everyone in this household is so freaking done with this moving crap. However, our new place has a place to park and I won't be afraid to go outside. Also, laundry. Laundry is good.
Moving may also give us a reason to rectify the situation of
#2:
My knight in pinstripes is not a small man.
My bed is designed for a child or someone, you know, my size. I'm exactly five feet tall and a little under weight, to give you an idea.
Yeah no.
This is not a bed designed for two adults sleeping, even if one is super tiny. Besides, Rob's not-tiny-ness just kind of amounts to us equaling two normal adults anyway.
Meanwhile, I've been stressing because I'm in my (hopefully) final year of school.
#3:
One of my classes isn't so bad with this, but I feel a little weirdly out of the loop in the other two so far.
I just wanna be a cool kid! *cries*
So, that's my update! Lord knows when I'll get around to another, but I'll do my best!
*salutes*
Before I begin this particular post, I'd like to state that I did this to myself. I chose to put myself in a situation where I was facing my allergy phobia in order to hopefully start a treatment for lessening my allergy burden.
This was not easy, and yes, it was uncomfortable.
However, I fully support people getting a skin test in order to get allergy shots, or to go on the drops, which I'm already on for my bazillion food allergies.
Mind you, they don't work for everything. I probably will always have a couple deadly food allergies, but the idea is to lessen the overall load. Becoming more tolerant to some things allows the body to chill a little bit about the more dangerous ones.
I even had my mom and my Knight in Pinstripes right there with me. Rob drew things for me:
With all that said, yes, I was stuck with a thousand needles and it was terrifying.
In fact, Rob drew that too:
However, obviously, I did not die.
I even had a panic attack at one point, but managed to somehow stifle it into a series of stupid jokes.
One of which was actually, "Well, I'm not dead. So, you know, that's better than I thought would happen."
Rob illustrated my emotional journey:
The constant joking and being silly while clearly exaggerating was partly to calm myself down, but also to make sure the nice lady giving the test wouldn't feel bad. Then, consequently, when she laughed, I felt like it wasn't a huge deal either.
This entire "personal story" aspect of this blog has a lot to do with the power of reshaping our stories and finding humor and beauty where there is otherwise pain.
Now then...
The day went pretty smoothly. My mom picked me up from my apartment to take me to my parent's house. Rob was at work in the morning, but took the afternoon off just to be supportive.
*Insert proud grin*
Meeting at my parent's house just wound up easier than meeting at the doctor's office, with it's three or four waiting rooms and such.
I spent my morning desperately trying to ignore how nervous I was, and did this by doing the following:
1.) Playing stupid dress up games online, including games that allow a person to have careers. Some of these careers are easy enough to really have, while others are almost impossible to get in real life.
2.) Staring at my toys and thinking about ways they could do a whole television series of just the minions from Despicable Me.
I freaking love those guys.
3.) Eating bacon and eggs, lovingly prepared by my momma, 'cause I'm an adult.
There are very few foods that don't freak me out, and bacon is one of the consistently "safe" foods for me. I can't even explain why.
A lot of the foods I go to are heavily processed and probably inherently unhealthy on some level or another, but having no allergies to preservatives or dyes and ALL the allergies to organic foods on their own anyway...
I just don't care.
If I'll eat it, awesome.
Rob showed up, we hung out for a bit, and then we were off!
When my name was called, my heart dropped into my stomach, but knowing I had some support made me breathe again.
At that point, Mom had Dad on the phone, who was asking for a play-by-play. If everyone had their way, that tiny room would have been filled with people. I felt very loved.
The first part of the test was on my left upper arm and did not involve any needles.
It was maybe a third of the size it was supposed to be, because I asked to not test for any foods. I'm already on the drops for specifically food allergies, so it would have been a waste of resources and my patented Rowyn-panic.
This was just a tray of tiny pokey things on top of the skin, yet the reaction to a couple of them was instantaneous.
She had marked where the first tray would start with a little heart, so sideways, the first to react (grasses) looked like a little face.
Rob and I both drew what it looked like:
His was somehow more accurate:
"I am the grasslord"
Yes you are.
The left arm slowly got more and more itchy, though most of the dots of allergens didn't react at all. That's a good thing.
The ones that DID react, however...
And then came the right arm.
OH MY CRAP.
So many tiny little needles. I tried to just not look.
Mostly, it didn't hurt. ...I was still afraid though. I think I kept it in check well. I was told later that despite me openly stating my crippling fear, I apparently handled it like a pro.
Rob drew some stuff during this whole right arm process, like the Cheshire Cat telling me to relax:
And his way of telling me I was very brave for facing my fear:
He actually printed out a certificate of "Bravery at the Doctors" for me to frame on the wall. He even signed and dated the thing.
By the end of my twitches, wincing, and bad jokes, my right arm looked like this:
Rob expected me to just pass out once the adrenaline wore off, and I'm surprised that I didn't.
Instead, I just wanted to eat and not be touched ever again.
Back at my parent's house, my father told me that Batman himself had heard about my appointment and how brave I was, and had asked him to give me an awesome Bat-signal magnet.
Yes, I'm 27.
Shut up.
I'm the goddamn Batman.
Later, "chicken for dinner" turned into this:
Oh, you mentioned a food in passing? LETS HAVE THAT TOO.
...My broccoli isn't drawn well.
...That's broccoli in the middle on the bottom there.
...
Anyhoo, then Rob and I went back home.
I cuddled up in my robe, going from itchy and awake to exhausted and a little dizzy.
It wasn't horrible, but the ick came in waves.
To get my mind off the crap of it, Rob played American McGee's Alice: Madness Returns so I could watch it like a cartoon.
It's a pretty game.
I wasn't going to sleep at a reasonable time that night, and I wound up hungry again. Rob, being amazingly Rob-like, scrambled an egg for me.
I'm going to be pretty freaked out the first few times I get the allergy shots. However, I've been on the drops for forever, and I'd be getting the shots in a safe setting, surrounded by doctors and epi-pens.
I was told the red dots from the test would be there a few days, and a day later, they are almost entirely gone. Clearly, I'll be able to handle it.
I have a year to decide. After that year, I'll need to be tested again, and that's crappy, so screw it. I'll do the shots.
Now to figure out my insurance!
