ocg's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- TMI So what should I tell you about? I have some thoughts. Should I tell you about my hair right now? Because it's bad, people, real bad. It's in that grow-out stage, shaggy, needing 87,395 minutes to DO it with 5,273 products, or it looks like a ghetto mop, where it's falling between my cheek and my ear, if I CAN PUSH IT BACK FAR ENOUGH, or I need a barrette on the bangs, and I'm not 23 anymore, and I'm pretty sure it's not 'cute' for someone my age to go around with the little barrette off to the left of the part and that's my de-rigueur-do. [Although, I DO loves me my barrettes.] But I'm trying to grow it out, because, dammit, once in my life, I'm going to have at least shoulder length hair that looks good, without having to have a baby to get my hopes up and then dash it all once all my hair starts falling out (because, I've read it, my friends, that's what happens!)[read: totally clueless in real life as to what goes on, just clinging to a couple of scraps of information that I gleaned from the dentist's office Parent's Magazine]. So should I tell you that I’ve got one of those freaky bald spots that has cropped up since childhood at the most inconvenient times and when the hairstyle that I am currently sporting really can't carry it (I'm allergic to the SUN, forcrimenysakes, why, WHY? It's the SUN!)[Remind me to tell you about Junior High and the shaving and barrette magic that happened there]? Or should I tell you about my cranky husband? Because, all love to him, he was fussy like a three-year-old bastard tonight. He's not sleeping well, and that is not good for either of us. Damn the graveyard nurse! But that all comes down to the other thing that, maybe, I should tell you about... ? We're looking for a house. Just a rental, so please don't send me your realtor's name in hopes of getting some sort of 'bonus' from them on closing. We're just renting.... And we've found THE house, and the OTHER HOUSE, and that ONE OVER THERE. And even though we are totally moving, he won't put in the notice at our apartshitament, because of something I will write about another time. NOT UNTIL WE HAVE THE HOUSE, OREGONCOASTGIRL! No, he didn't yell, but, sheesh, I'm going to live in a box if we don't get one of these, because the LBs, as I have affectionately named them, the LITTLE BASTARDS, you know, the ones that throw shopping carts down the stairs at the three year old kid that doesn't even see it coming? Yeah, I don't like them. Or the ones that have the pinecone-escalating-into-rock-wars? Not in MY backyard, you LBs!!!! Ok, so that was LAST summer, and the kids this year haven't been too awful-TGFE (thank god for eviction). Should I tell you that, really, the complex we are in isn't too bad, but I am just soooooo TIRED of living with attached wall neighbors that I would seriously consider making Denty, the perfect Mazda 323, into my permanent home. She's so preeeety right now (from the guilt of leaving the oil cap off the last time I put oil in her- don't ask- I'll explain later…)? Should I tell you that we're looking for a place in PORTLAND, and might I add, ANYWHERE? Which lead to last weekend's debacle of 45 houses in 16 hours, with two people that have lived in Portland for four years now that have minimal experience ‘driving around’, and the houses, only three of which were ‘acceptable’. He’s all about bedrooms; I’m all about ‘the space’. And we? Together, we’re all about finding a home. A home with a garage or basement (because I have crafty needs, my preeties). A home with a dishwasher, because it really fricken blows when you don’t have one. A home that can make us feel like we are part of a community (albeit, a ‘cool, artistic community, for you, babe.’ [quote: boy]). And we need a yard. For the dog I want. The one that will be mine at Christmastime. The one that will hopefully replace the child I think I want, the girl that would have been 4 in two months, the one, the one. The one that makes me, to this day, question if I should have said yes when my boy asked me to marry him exactly a month after she was gone. The one I would feel like a total sellout if I had had. The one that would mean that I am not who I am now. The one that I don’t deserve now any more than I did then. Yes, that one. The one that makes me vote, because you can’t tell me I didn’t think about it long enough. I’ve thought about it for this long, and I don’t see it fading. So, did I tell you about the right things? Probably not. That is all. 11:25 p.m. - 2004-09-14 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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