Back From the Grave and Home Sweet Home
You probably don't remember me as it's been so long since I wrote. But if you've known my famiy for the past 100 years, you will certainly remember that chair.
Like the apartment? Cute huh? You know what's not cute? Me stuffing my face on cookie dough. Not cute at all.
Adders doing what he does best - waiting for me to serve him whilst he watches television and poses for the camera.Ahem. Hi, there. Remember me? Miss Courty? Ya’ll have probably stopped reading by now but come back! Please, do come back! I’ll start updating with more regularity than I have been lately, I promise. It’s just, who knew I had so much shit to move? And do you know how hard it is to unpack an entire wardrobe (which includes ALL FOUR SEASONS) in one tiny closet space? It’s impossible, people! It’s like trying to unravel the meaning of life – futile and hopelessly depressing. Adders suggested, you know, getting rid of some clothes. And shoes. And purses. A comment which earned him a place to sleep on the floor. Oh, I joke. I need him in the bed to keep me warm because have I mentioned that I now live in a basement suite? Where it’s a balmy -4° C year round? Lovely.
But I am getting WAY WAY WAY ahead of myself. First let me reintroduce myself: my name is Miss Courty and I am now officially once again a resident of Cranberry Corners. If you had told me this at the age of 17 I would have most likely gasped with disbelief, cried with horror and shame and then maybe have knifed you. And yet, here I am, back in “Cranhole” willingly and (somewhat) happily.
So yeah, I’m back, bitches. Have been for, well, look at that! Just over a month! Oh, my God – has it really been that long? And has it really been that long since I updated? Wow. No wonder ya’ll (read: Charkins) hate me. Well, let’s get straight to business then. I bet you’re wondering how I’m enjoying life in Crannie. And it’s, well, it’s going… good? Fine? Nice? Like with any transition in life, you have to take the good with the bad. But to look at this situation as a whole, it’s just way too overwhelming. So let’s break down my move into some categories: Parents; Job; Apartment; Adders. These four components make up my life in Crannie and they have been the key things that have made this past month both wonderful and pure evil.
So first up – the Folks. Well. I’ve seen them, so that’s a start, no? Straight upon my arrival in town, I went to the house for dinner, which was strained and uncomfortable but obviously the polite thing to do. I’ve also had them over to see my apartment and the four of us (meaning the parents, Adders and myself) even went out to dinner, although my grandparents were present and acted as a buffer (this, however, did not stop Adders and my mother from making it the world’s most AKWARD EVENING EVER IN THE HISTORY OF THE UNIVERSE) (by the way, have I mentioned the time when asked by my Dad how I enjoyed my new bed, I replied: Well, it’s great. Except for the wheels on it means that it rolls around really easily, which is so annoying. *HORRIBLE EVIL PAUSE WHILE EVERYONE ABSORBS WHAT THIS REALLY MEANS*).
Anyhow, everything with my Dad is hunky dory, as it always has been through all of this mess. I’ve seen him a few times and he phones me constantly, forever talking about the “career advice” he’s going to someday pass on to me (I’ve been hearing him say that for the past nine years of my life. So far I’ve received no advice except Be A Lawyer, Make Big Money). So my Daddy and I are doing good. My mother, on the other hand, is a bit of, hmmmmm how should I put this, well, she’s a bit of a freak show. Apparently, she’s now a “Minister” (please, if you have any sort of affection for me, do NOT even ask) for her Bible Study (I’m begging you here, seriously. Don’t ask – you really don’t want to know). And when she took me out for lunch a few weeks ago, that’s all she would talk about. Forget about the fact that I haven’t really seen her in five months, she spent the entire time blabbing on and on during our lunch date about herself and her religion. AAARRRRRR! Whatever. Let’s just say, though, that when they finally came to see the apartment, it was all I could do to not leave a condom wrapper sitting on the coffee table.
Next category is the Job. Okay, people, I’m going to be blunt with you. I am now a goddamn receptionist. A FUCKING RECEPTIONIST. I studied at McGill University, for fuck’s sake. I graduated with GREAT DISTINCTION. I’m brilliant. Maybe not the kind of brilliance that makes money or is practical in the real world. But I’m brilliant in my own special way (ask Adders. My Mom even told him that I’m a “Chosen One.” I mean, that’s gotta count for something, no? Alright then. Just cue the freaky music right here).
But seriously, I am working as the office administrator at an insurance/investment company here in Crannie. The good news is that I’m making the same amount of money I was at my previous job in Calgary (which wasn’t really any more glamorous than the position I now hold). The bad news is that it’s still an appallingly small salary.
The people I work with are really nice, if a bit anal. But then again, that’s company policy. Like, get this: we have Casual Fridays, but we’re not allowed to wear jeans. CHA! What then is the point of having Casual Fridays? Because let me tell you something, Mister – there is nothing I wear on Casual Fridays that I wouldn’t wear any other day of the week. So let me wear my bloody denim and we’ll all feel better.
Overall, the job is getting better and it’s definitely keeping me busy (I’m not nearly as bored as I was at my previous two jobs). But there is something humiliating about having to sit at the front of the office and greet the common public. Sigh. I have way too big of ego to be doing that. Besides, I left town in a great cloud of glory after my stint at the newspaper, but now I’m crawling back in making less money than the nude dancers who work across the street. Kill me, kill me now. Maybe I should just get that boob job and go join them…
HOWEVER, and I wasn’t going to say anything about it yet, but what the hell – I’ve found a new job. A new really AWESOME and AMAZING and ALMOST AS GOOD AS THE EDITOR job I used to have here in Crannster. I’m not going to go into it now since I really don’t know what to say about it. But here’s a few tidbits: it’s a bit more money, it involves some writing, it’s in something that I love (okay, okay – politics) and I get to be a somebody once again in town! YES! I’ll write more on it later since I still haven’t quit my other job and I don’t start this one for another month.
So let’s talk about the Apartment now. I adore it. It is so cute, so new, so cheerful, etc. What I don’t like about it is that it is very small, very cold, and very damp. The dampness freaks the shit out of me because it means that my apartment is like a honing beacon for every bug living in the East Kootenay region. I’ve killed beetles, spiders, even a goddamn centipede. Seriously! And I think I may have even killed a cockroach. EEEEP! But it is kind a freaky.
And the other thing is, it’s very small. As in teeny tiny I had three people over the other night and I had to sit on the bed so we could all fit. I don’t even mind the smallness. It’s basically just housing me and (99.999999% of the time) Adders, so it is cozy. What I do mind, though, is the lack of storage space. Luckily, my landlord bought two huge cabinets for the entry way that I’m using for precious storage space (yes, I do have a huge mudroom/entry way which is very nice and will be even more so come the winter).
Now, the topic of the cabinets really is a nice segue into a discussion about my next category, which is Adders (I refer to the cabinets only because we almost broke up over the stress of assembling them). Okay, so let’s be honest. Before I moved to Crannie, things were a bit iffy between Adders and me. We were fighting like crazy, both stressed out to the max and I was in constant cry mode because I was so exhausted making the four hour drive between Calgary and Crannie each weekend. Plus, as I’ve told (tell) anyone who’ll listen, it’s like we were stalled or stuck in one spot. Because of the long distance, our relationship was just stagnant and not moving forward, which was frustrating as well.
So I thought that when I moved to Crannie everything would be just lovely between us. You know: romantic walks, tons of sex and homemade dinners every night. Well, first up – let’s just thank the heavens that I get us some free access to McDonald’s or otherwise we’d have starved to death by now, that is how much the both of us hate cooking after a long day of work. As for the other stuff, well, we’ve been on ONE romantic walk. And the sex? Yeah, let’s just say that when you’re fighting 24/7 your sex life takes a definite nose dive.
Oh, I’m being overdramatic. We’re not fighting THAT much, considering how much we have to fight over! And after a particularly BRUTAL fight a few weeks ago, we resolved to both try harder, which has definitely resulted in more peace and lots more love (heh heh heh). But all I know is that I finally understand what that old little rhyme we used to chant as kids is now getting at: First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes so and so pushing the baby carriage. See, as a woman, marriage (or living together, or simply having your boyfriend stay at your place all the freakin’ time) prepares you for children like nothing else. Why? Because boys are like children: they’re loud, they’re messy, they’re ALWAYS hungry, they get bored easily, they’re cranky. Oh, and did I mention that they’re messy (really, really, REALLY messy) (especially after they use the bathroom and shave) (ugh).
If I didn’t (somewhat) bite my tongue, I would be permanently squawking at Adders for everything he’s doing wrong – wet towel on the bed, dishes not washed properly, pistachio shells placed back in the pistachio nut bowl (don’t even get me started on this one), and the constant blaring of the television (speaking of, do all boys watch this much TV or is it just mine? Because I think I’m going to go batty because of it).
So I’m always nagging at him, and he’s always annoyed at me. And yes, you gotta pick your battles, blah blah blah, but I disagree. I’m housetraining him and I’ve got to keep at it.
Or at least that’s what I did think at first. SLOWLY, SLOWLY, SLOWLY I’m trying to be less of a nag and more of a girlfriend. And he is getting SO much better (he now makes the bed, is more conscientious about washing dishes and, awww, has even brought me flowers). Things actually are going quite wonderful now; it's just that I was quite surprised at how rough the first two and a bit weeks were. We really had to adjust being together 24/7 and sort through our various particular living habits (i.e. Me: love to read before bed; Adders: sex or TV. Or how about both? At the same time?).
Anyhow, I don’t want to sound all negative and such. Because honestly, I know without a doubt I made the right decision to move back here. And nothing is more wonderful than getting home at 4:30pm every afternoon and just anticipating five o’clock when I know my sexy man will be walking through the door. In fact, it’s just so great knowing that we now have nothing but time together.
*** BTW, it’s 11:09pm. Adders just warmed up a tortilla. I just said the following two things to him: “Why are you eating that now? You just brushed your teeth! And don’t get crumbs on the floor, I just mopped it earlier.” Hmmm, it never ends, does it?! ***
So yeah, that’s pretty much what’s going on. As for what we actually do, every weekend has been spent out at Koocanusa with Adders' parents (or sometimes his siblings or sometimes just us). We’ve done a ton of water-skiing, some reading, no hiking, excessive eating and lots of laughing. As for our weeknights, God only knows. Adders thinks we spend the majority of our time at Walmart, which I SO disagree with (because hello? If that were true? I would be the happiest girl in the universe. Like get this? I just got a waffle maker there for $4.00. Yeah, you read that price right. FOUR DOLLARS! I lurve that place!). We’ve also been golfing several times. And we may or may not be slightly addicted to “So You Think You Can Dance?”
And now we’re headed off on vacation! Yea! To Yellowstone National Park down in Wyoming, of all places. We’ll be camping for 10 days and if we don’t (a) get eaten by a bear; (b) burned by Old Faithful; (c) lost in the caves on the Lewis and Clark Expedition Trail; or (d) murder each other over one another’s driving (Him: OH MY GOD, BE GENTLE TO MY PRECIOUS TRUCK. THE WORLD ENDS WHEN YOU DRIVE LIKE THAT. Me: OH MY GOD, THE SPEED LIMIT IS ONLY A SUGGESTION. DRIVE FASTER BEFORE I GET OUT AND START PUSHING THIS DAMN TRUCK ALONG), I will definitely post all about it when I get back (and maybe even include pictures! Yahoo!).
So there you go – I doubt any of you are still reading, but I’d love you to start again. I’ll get better about updating, I promise.
Happy Holidays!
But I am getting WAY WAY WAY ahead of myself. First let me reintroduce myself: my name is Miss Courty and I am now officially once again a resident of Cranberry Corners. If you had told me this at the age of 17 I would have most likely gasped with disbelief, cried with horror and shame and then maybe have knifed you. And yet, here I am, back in “Cranhole” willingly and (somewhat) happily.
So yeah, I’m back, bitches. Have been for, well, look at that! Just over a month! Oh, my God – has it really been that long? And has it really been that long since I updated? Wow. No wonder ya’ll (read: Charkins) hate me. Well, let’s get straight to business then. I bet you’re wondering how I’m enjoying life in Crannie. And it’s, well, it’s going… good? Fine? Nice? Like with any transition in life, you have to take the good with the bad. But to look at this situation as a whole, it’s just way too overwhelming. So let’s break down my move into some categories: Parents; Job; Apartment; Adders. These four components make up my life in Crannie and they have been the key things that have made this past month both wonderful and pure evil.
So first up – the Folks. Well. I’ve seen them, so that’s a start, no? Straight upon my arrival in town, I went to the house for dinner, which was strained and uncomfortable but obviously the polite thing to do. I’ve also had them over to see my apartment and the four of us (meaning the parents, Adders and myself) even went out to dinner, although my grandparents were present and acted as a buffer (this, however, did not stop Adders and my mother from making it the world’s most AKWARD EVENING EVER IN THE HISTORY OF THE UNIVERSE) (by the way, have I mentioned the time when asked by my Dad how I enjoyed my new bed, I replied: Well, it’s great. Except for the wheels on it means that it rolls around really easily, which is so annoying. *HORRIBLE EVIL PAUSE WHILE EVERYONE ABSORBS WHAT THIS REALLY MEANS*).
Anyhow, everything with my Dad is hunky dory, as it always has been through all of this mess. I’ve seen him a few times and he phones me constantly, forever talking about the “career advice” he’s going to someday pass on to me (I’ve been hearing him say that for the past nine years of my life. So far I’ve received no advice except Be A Lawyer, Make Big Money). So my Daddy and I are doing good. My mother, on the other hand, is a bit of, hmmmmm how should I put this, well, she’s a bit of a freak show. Apparently, she’s now a “Minister” (please, if you have any sort of affection for me, do NOT even ask) for her Bible Study (I’m begging you here, seriously. Don’t ask – you really don’t want to know). And when she took me out for lunch a few weeks ago, that’s all she would talk about. Forget about the fact that I haven’t really seen her in five months, she spent the entire time blabbing on and on during our lunch date about herself and her religion. AAARRRRRR! Whatever. Let’s just say, though, that when they finally came to see the apartment, it was all I could do to not leave a condom wrapper sitting on the coffee table.
Next category is the Job. Okay, people, I’m going to be blunt with you. I am now a goddamn receptionist. A FUCKING RECEPTIONIST. I studied at McGill University, for fuck’s sake. I graduated with GREAT DISTINCTION. I’m brilliant. Maybe not the kind of brilliance that makes money or is practical in the real world. But I’m brilliant in my own special way (ask Adders. My Mom even told him that I’m a “Chosen One.” I mean, that’s gotta count for something, no? Alright then. Just cue the freaky music right here).
But seriously, I am working as the office administrator at an insurance/investment company here in Crannie. The good news is that I’m making the same amount of money I was at my previous job in Calgary (which wasn’t really any more glamorous than the position I now hold). The bad news is that it’s still an appallingly small salary.
The people I work with are really nice, if a bit anal. But then again, that’s company policy. Like, get this: we have Casual Fridays, but we’re not allowed to wear jeans. CHA! What then is the point of having Casual Fridays? Because let me tell you something, Mister – there is nothing I wear on Casual Fridays that I wouldn’t wear any other day of the week. So let me wear my bloody denim and we’ll all feel better.
Overall, the job is getting better and it’s definitely keeping me busy (I’m not nearly as bored as I was at my previous two jobs). But there is something humiliating about having to sit at the front of the office and greet the common public. Sigh. I have way too big of ego to be doing that. Besides, I left town in a great cloud of glory after my stint at the newspaper, but now I’m crawling back in making less money than the nude dancers who work across the street. Kill me, kill me now. Maybe I should just get that boob job and go join them…
HOWEVER, and I wasn’t going to say anything about it yet, but what the hell – I’ve found a new job. A new really AWESOME and AMAZING and ALMOST AS GOOD AS THE EDITOR job I used to have here in Crannster. I’m not going to go into it now since I really don’t know what to say about it. But here’s a few tidbits: it’s a bit more money, it involves some writing, it’s in something that I love (okay, okay – politics) and I get to be a somebody once again in town! YES! I’ll write more on it later since I still haven’t quit my other job and I don’t start this one for another month.
So let’s talk about the Apartment now. I adore it. It is so cute, so new, so cheerful, etc. What I don’t like about it is that it is very small, very cold, and very damp. The dampness freaks the shit out of me because it means that my apartment is like a honing beacon for every bug living in the East Kootenay region. I’ve killed beetles, spiders, even a goddamn centipede. Seriously! And I think I may have even killed a cockroach. EEEEP! But it is kind a freaky.
And the other thing is, it’s very small. As in teeny tiny I had three people over the other night and I had to sit on the bed so we could all fit. I don’t even mind the smallness. It’s basically just housing me and (99.999999% of the time) Adders, so it is cozy. What I do mind, though, is the lack of storage space. Luckily, my landlord bought two huge cabinets for the entry way that I’m using for precious storage space (yes, I do have a huge mudroom/entry way which is very nice and will be even more so come the winter).
Now, the topic of the cabinets really is a nice segue into a discussion about my next category, which is Adders (I refer to the cabinets only because we almost broke up over the stress of assembling them). Okay, so let’s be honest. Before I moved to Crannie, things were a bit iffy between Adders and me. We were fighting like crazy, both stressed out to the max and I was in constant cry mode because I was so exhausted making the four hour drive between Calgary and Crannie each weekend. Plus, as I’ve told (tell) anyone who’ll listen, it’s like we were stalled or stuck in one spot. Because of the long distance, our relationship was just stagnant and not moving forward, which was frustrating as well.
So I thought that when I moved to Crannie everything would be just lovely between us. You know: romantic walks, tons of sex and homemade dinners every night. Well, first up – let’s just thank the heavens that I get us some free access to McDonald’s or otherwise we’d have starved to death by now, that is how much the both of us hate cooking after a long day of work. As for the other stuff, well, we’ve been on ONE romantic walk. And the sex? Yeah, let’s just say that when you’re fighting 24/7 your sex life takes a definite nose dive.
Oh, I’m being overdramatic. We’re not fighting THAT much, considering how much we have to fight over! And after a particularly BRUTAL fight a few weeks ago, we resolved to both try harder, which has definitely resulted in more peace and lots more love (heh heh heh). But all I know is that I finally understand what that old little rhyme we used to chant as kids is now getting at: First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes so and so pushing the baby carriage. See, as a woman, marriage (or living together, or simply having your boyfriend stay at your place all the freakin’ time) prepares you for children like nothing else. Why? Because boys are like children: they’re loud, they’re messy, they’re ALWAYS hungry, they get bored easily, they’re cranky. Oh, and did I mention that they’re messy (really, really, REALLY messy) (especially after they use the bathroom and shave) (ugh).
If I didn’t (somewhat) bite my tongue, I would be permanently squawking at Adders for everything he’s doing wrong – wet towel on the bed, dishes not washed properly, pistachio shells placed back in the pistachio nut bowl (don’t even get me started on this one), and the constant blaring of the television (speaking of, do all boys watch this much TV or is it just mine? Because I think I’m going to go batty because of it).
So I’m always nagging at him, and he’s always annoyed at me. And yes, you gotta pick your battles, blah blah blah, but I disagree. I’m housetraining him and I’ve got to keep at it.
Or at least that’s what I did think at first. SLOWLY, SLOWLY, SLOWLY I’m trying to be less of a nag and more of a girlfriend. And he is getting SO much better (he now makes the bed, is more conscientious about washing dishes and, awww, has even brought me flowers). Things actually are going quite wonderful now; it's just that I was quite surprised at how rough the first two and a bit weeks were. We really had to adjust being together 24/7 and sort through our various particular living habits (i.e. Me: love to read before bed; Adders: sex or TV. Or how about both? At the same time?).
Anyhow, I don’t want to sound all negative and such. Because honestly, I know without a doubt I made the right decision to move back here. And nothing is more wonderful than getting home at 4:30pm every afternoon and just anticipating five o’clock when I know my sexy man will be walking through the door. In fact, it’s just so great knowing that we now have nothing but time together.
*** BTW, it’s 11:09pm. Adders just warmed up a tortilla. I just said the following two things to him: “Why are you eating that now? You just brushed your teeth! And don’t get crumbs on the floor, I just mopped it earlier.” Hmmm, it never ends, does it?! ***
So yeah, that’s pretty much what’s going on. As for what we actually do, every weekend has been spent out at Koocanusa with Adders' parents (or sometimes his siblings or sometimes just us). We’ve done a ton of water-skiing, some reading, no hiking, excessive eating and lots of laughing. As for our weeknights, God only knows. Adders thinks we spend the majority of our time at Walmart, which I SO disagree with (because hello? If that were true? I would be the happiest girl in the universe. Like get this? I just got a waffle maker there for $4.00. Yeah, you read that price right. FOUR DOLLARS! I lurve that place!). We’ve also been golfing several times. And we may or may not be slightly addicted to “So You Think You Can Dance?”
And now we’re headed off on vacation! Yea! To Yellowstone National Park down in Wyoming, of all places. We’ll be camping for 10 days and if we don’t (a) get eaten by a bear; (b) burned by Old Faithful; (c) lost in the caves on the Lewis and Clark Expedition Trail; or (d) murder each other over one another’s driving (Him: OH MY GOD, BE GENTLE TO MY PRECIOUS TRUCK. THE WORLD ENDS WHEN YOU DRIVE LIKE THAT. Me: OH MY GOD, THE SPEED LIMIT IS ONLY A SUGGESTION. DRIVE FASTER BEFORE I GET OUT AND START PUSHING THIS DAMN TRUCK ALONG), I will definitely post all about it when I get back (and maybe even include pictures! Yahoo!).
So there you go – I doubt any of you are still reading, but I’d love you to start again. I’ll get better about updating, I promise.
Happy Holidays!
posted by Divine K @ 10:23 PM
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