Maybe You Can Go Back Home (For A Few Days... At Least)

I was a little worried about moving back in with my parents for the week that all my household belongings were in North Carolina but I had to finish my last week of work at Quantico and clean out the old apartment. My dad is a bit set in his routine and doesn't like any deviation from his norm. I figured that I would cause friction in the house. I am happy to report that the week has went by with few glitches (other than my mom wanting to throw my super loud Sonic Boom alarm clock out the window when it woke her up at 6 AM... what can i say?... I am a heavy sleeper!)

Things I have learned to love at my parents' house:

1. My mom is a kickass cook. I have been spoiled with pork tenderloin, crawfish quiche and other goodies all week long. She would even made a plate and warm it up for me on the nights when I came in late. Mom just had a Wegmans open up down the street from her house that awakened her inner gourmand so she is all about incorporating the latest sheep cheese or spinach focaccia she picked up in to her cooking. Quite a change from my usual dinner of Lean Cuisine and Cheez-Its.



2. The ultra-soft down comforter on the guest bed. Seriously... this thing is like sleeping enveloped in the clouds.



3. The companionship of the coolest dog in the world. Breed? A snorting, wiggling pug. Name? Ouiser Boudreaux, of course. Can you tell who named her? She was my dog for the first 5 months but my parents adopted her when my life got too busy. Ouiser is the quirkiest yet sweetest dog in the world and makes the best cuddle buddy you could ever find. Just look at this face...

Resistance is futile!

I am going to be off the grid for a few days. I am heading back down to North Carolina around 1 PM tomorrow. My cable hookup at the new place isn't until Wednesday, so unless I can find Wi-Fi access somewhere, you won't hear from me for awhile. No worries because Bad Wolf can hold it down in my absence. See y'all later!

You Cry :: I Smile

Recent text message received from a sleazy ex who was sleeping with me, his live-in girlfriend and half of Northern Virginia:

"Just so u know after 4 combat tours u r the worst thing ever happened to me."

Hmmmm.... guess he is still holding a grudge because I outed him to the poor girl who moved across the country to be with him. I hope he is reading this now so he knows that I think he is a joke. Did he think I would curl up in the fetal position and cry myself to sleep because he hates me now? Nice try, dirtbag, but I rejoice in the fact that you are lying in that lonely proverbial bed that you made for yourself. Thanks for the compliment... now go away!

I Am Not Afraid Of You, Tropical Storm Hanna!

Reporting live from the windswept shores of North Carolina, this is Roadtripper8...

As if I didn't have enough stress in my life dealing with moving, Tropical Storm Hanna decided to whip up the East Coast as my very own personal Welcome Wagon. We all nervously eyed the quickly gathering clouds in Virginia on Friday, hoping the sky wouldn't break open on us while we were loading the U-Haul. We crossed our fingers as we began our caravan of vehicles at 6 AM Saturday morning. Somewhere around Richmond, we hit the first band of Hanna, and it was as if the gates of hell had opened up.

Luckily we made it all in one piece (slight diversion in Goldsboro with a GPS malfunction and an irrate father who doesn't understand that you need to quit driving circles around a traffic cloverleaf at 70 mph when the device is trying to recalculate your postition) and were welcomed to my new abode with no rain and only some wind. Good news: nothing broken! My super volunteers and I even had time post-move-in Saturday to enjoy some fried seafood followed by an Irish pub. My mom had her first glass of Guinness (and seemed to enjoy it, I am happy to report!)

Thanks to my moving crew for a job well done. Having said that, I think I will hire professional movers next time. This crap is way too much work!

Reason #278 I Am Ready To Leave Virginia

View of my evening commute

Nothing drives me more bonkers than traffic. If only I could meet the genius urban planner who came up with the bright idea to have only two tiny roads leading out of a military base containing tens of thousands of employees and have those roads dump out on to a major highway that already has swarms of traffic from DC... there would be massive blood spill if I could get my hands on him or her!

Operation Crazy Old Southern Lady

I love her more than my luggage!

I am done whining (for now at least) about my passage in to my thirties. Although I realize it will be awhile before I can fully attain crazy old lady status, I am taking my thirties as an opportunity to get just a little more cranky and bitter. Consider it my decade of taking baby steps towards my ultimate goal. In order to do so, I need to clearly outline what makes the little old crazy Southern lady tick.

1. She needs to be Southern - duh! I am currently living in the southern edge of the DC/Northern Virginia metro area. Below the Mason-Dixon, yes, but hardly what I would consider the south. My upcoming move to coastal North Carolina will remedy that. Onward to the land of Cheerwine, pulled pork sandwiches and being able to smoke my Virginia Slim Menthol Light 100s anywhere I damn please.
   
2. She needs to dress crazy - Crazy old ladies look like they dressed themselves in the dark. Polyester pants, wide-brimmed straw hats with heavy ornamentation, housecoats, muu-muus, overalls, plaids mixed with florals. All this madness can be traced back to the fact that they really don't give a damn anymore. While I am not ready to trade my knee-high boots in for gardening clogs just yet, I am ready to start wearing things simply because I like them. Being a slave to the fashion magazines and what my friends are wearing is for my twenties. I am going to start dressing for me now.
3. She needs to go for social outings at her church, bridge club and salon - I am pretty sure I would burst in to flames if I walked inside one, so church is out for me. Don't know how to play bridge or bunko... yet! I am down for the salon if I could ever find a stylist that I really like. I just need to find a place where I become a part of the local color. Knowing me, it will probably end up being a bar. Baby steps here, remember?
4. She needs to have a signature drink - I've seen the old ladies stick to the classics on this one (martinis or Tom Collins) but it really cracks me up when they get more exotic and order up a Pink Lady, Singapore Sling or Alabama Slammer. While I have been known to guzzle anything in the joint, my go-to drink is a Captain and Diet, with the occasional Bloody Mary. Must... find... better... signature... drink!
   
5. She needs to be cranky and share her opinions at full volume to whomever will listen - Actually, I am already halfway there on this one.
6. She needs to shop at the Piggly Wiggly - It was good enough for Miss Daisy. Check that box...there is one just down the road from my new place.

Dear John Letter To My Sofa

The moment I saw you, I had to have you. I had been shopping all day, having hit up four other furniture stores in the fifty mile radius. As a last ditch effort, I stopped by a store close to my place that was known for its marked up prices. There you were... in the back of the store. Someone had already bought the loveseat and chair, so you were in the group of mismatched furniture. Burgundy chenille fabric, modern design, super comfortable... I was already in love before I even saw your $500 price tag. With no hesitation, I slapped the plastic down and bought my first major piece of furniture.

The other love of my life hated you. The ex swore you were too big for our living room. He hated how your sleeks lines contrasted with all the hand-me-downs and bargain furniture that filled our apartment. He continued to sit on his ratty old loveseat that he had saved from the dumpster at work while I languished on my new purchase. Quite the love triangle we made!

Needless to say, you lasted much longer than he did.

It has been seven years. You have seen me through some great times. You followed me on the journey from California to Virginia. I found room for you in that oddly shaped living room in my first Virginia apartment. Thousands of miles separated us while you were in storage and I was overseas in Ukraine. After transferring all my worldly belongings from storage in to my latest apartment, we were reunited again. I jumped on you with glee and rejoiced in the sense of familiarity you brought. Six months abroad sitting on uncomfortable rented Eastern European furniture made me love you even more.

You have provided me with comfort. You have welcomed so many of my friends and family. You have seen me at my best and my worst. You have seen me grow up.

But the time has come for us to part. The move to North Carolina is a new chapter in my life... one that you will not be taking with me. A recent trip to a furniture store showed me that I am looking for something different. We have simply grown apart.

It was a sad day when I dropped you off at Goodwill this Sunday. My first adult purchase was being carted off for some other person to find comfort in. I hope your new owner treats you well.

I do miss you. My new couch won't be delivered until Wednesday. The living room feels so empty without you. But even as I sit here on the floor, I know that I have made the right choice.

With fond memories,

Maggie

The cure for anything is salt water - sweat, tears, or the sea

Operation Relocate To Coastal Carolina has officially kicked off. After a grueling weekend (okay... we did take Sunday off to frolic in the waves) spent looking for the perfect new pad, the lease is signed and the deposit is deposited. Now I need to rid myself of clutter here in Virginia a la "Clean House"... where is Niecy Nash when I need her?

I have three different lists sitting on my coffee table of things to do before the move. Maybe I should quit making lists and just do something!

I can't wait to get out of the DC sprawl. Today while I was stuck in wall-to-wall traffic on Route 1, all I could do was daydream about the less crowded commute waiting for me in NC. Instead of traffic and strip malls, I will have crashing waves and seagulls as my scenery. September 12th cannot come soon enough!