Quiet

Tim and I are staying in tonight, joined by my friend Emily, to make pizza from scratch, watch movies, and drink champagne while watching the ball drop on tv. And I must admit - it feels pretty damn good.

Pre-Tim, New Years was spent at a bar, or a party, or a bowl game! haphazardly imbibing enough alcohol to clobber a gorilla whilst seeking out the guy that would plant a big sloppy kiss on me at the stroke of midnight. I have many fantastic, but fuzzy, memories of past New Years Eves that I wouldn't trade for the world. A large number of you reading this blog share my memories with me. Some of you even shared the kisses.

But this year, I don't want the crowded smoky bars, or to witness the idiocy of those unfortunate enough to not know their limits with alcohol. As mushy and gooey as it sounds, I just want my man and my close friend to share a bit of laughter, a nice buzz, and a good meal as the minutes tick by towards the next year of our lives.

Whether you feel this way too, or if you're a rabble-rousing party animal this year, I hope you have a safe and Happy New Year.

A year in the life - 2005

Thanks for the idea, galarza.

Oob's year included the following:

1. Left grad school.
2. Three months later, landed my first job.
3. Moved 800 miles away from my home of the last four years, into the land of Yankees.
4. Started a blog.
5. Reconnected with old friends.
6. Made new friends.
7. Realized how much I enjoy writing, and that there are people who believe in my abilities as such.
   
8. Traveled to Texas, Georgia, New York, Ohio, New Jersey, North Carolina, Tennessee and Pennsylvania.
   
9. Shared a shack in the woods with spiders for the summer.
10. My nephew turned two.
11. Worked at a lingerie store.
    
12. Worked at a winery.
13. Moved twice so far, a third time to come in a week, and have lived practically out of a suitcase for six months.
    
14. Went to a wedding.
15. Said goodbye to my grandmother.
    
16. Fell even more in love.
    
17. Roasted a friend.
    
18. Dyed my hair for the first time. Went really blond. And then back to not-as-blond.
19. Let go of a few past grudges.
    
20. Made progress towards becoming the type of person I want to be.

Not to shabby to look back on, I think. I'm proud of what I've accomplished. I'm staggered by how much I've grown. And I'm not done. Not by a long shot.

Testosterone Overdose

Seeing Tim and his brother laugh together at their horribly foul jokes, automatically say the same raunchy things (taken either from South Park, Family Guy, or the likes), and generally being males- with all the trappings that go along with that side of the human species... including bodily functions... was cute.

For the first 24 hours.

I desperately need to be surrounded by more estrogen. Yes, his mom is around, but she has the difficult task of caring for her 96 year old mother. If I hear one more fart, belch or off-color remark I'm going to dive headfirst into the wine that Tim brought with him.

Need to go shopping. Help? Anyone?

Nine hours is nothing...

When you're used to driving thirteen.

I've arrived in the midwest, and the wine... I mean, Tim will be here in about an hour and a half. I am beyond excited to see him again.

Let the holidays commence. Have a Merry Christmas, everyone.

The view from the top (floor)

It's a bit hazy, but I think you get the point.

12 o' clock is the Empire State Building. Click on it to make it bigger.

Impatience

I have pictures to blog. And no wireless desktop yet, thanks to Be$t Buy.

I want to be with Tim and his family, baking Christmas cookies and drinking mass quantities of wine. But I have to work this whole week, including Friday.

I want to be with my family, playing trains with my nephew and enduring incessant harassing (jokingly, of course) from my parents. But that will have to wait for a weekend in the future when I can afford to fly.

Three wants. But all I really need for Christmas? I already have. The knowledge of unquestioning and boundless love from the man that I couldn't help but fall in love with. The comfort of parents that have not only stood by me, supported me and helped me through the awful times, but have been a constant source of inspiration. I hope I can be like them when I grow up. The solidity of a sibling that, I know, loves me without boundaries. A sister-in-law (and great friend) that can effortlessly shed clarity and insight onto murky, messy matters of life, love and... plants. And a nephew that grows by leaps and bounds and, despite distance, makes his way into my heart further each day.

While this may be my first Christmas away from them geographically, the hurt is lessened just a little by knowing these things. Then again, the wine will help too.

Busy Oob

Made it over two big hurdles this week. My first big work-related thing is over, and went very well. I also am finally moved into my new, and final, place of residence. Only one more week to get through until the holiday break.

For now, I am enjoying a quiet Saturday of shopping, television, a good book and solitude. I'm a happy girl.

Hmmmm.

Snow? Pretty.

Lack of shovel, broom or bulldozer to un-bury my car? BAD

Now why haven't I run into this problem before? Let's take a moment to assess the situation.

Amount of snowfall: Eh, about 5-6 inches.
Parking location: side of busy street.
Pro: Emergency salting and plowing occur in a reasonable amount of time on busy streets.
Con: The entire driver's side of my car, including the wheels, being completely obliterated with muddy, salty snow numerous times before I attempted to leave for work.
Equipment for damage control: this
Equipment needed: this, this and this.

And all y'all that drove by and splashed dirty, slushy nastiness from the backs of my ankles to my knees while I attempted to clean off my car - kiss my butt. May you spill your $tarbucks non-fat non-taste latte all over the interior of your Lexus. All y'all that honked and waved at the girl sweating and grunting while bent over at the waist, trying in vain to free her tires from their snowy captivity with a two foot scraper - bite me.

Yes, I was annoyed. But I am also laughing about it now. I know I looked completely and utterly foolish. But hey, a girl's got to get to work...

and at least I was smart enough to replace my stilettos with snow boots.

It's so pretty.

Enormous white flakes of snow are falling outside. And they are not falling gently! Work is having a "delayed start" to allow the roads to be plowed, and I'm fine with that. Curled up with my breakfast, my laptop and a book by the window I can finally de-stress. At least for a few hours.

I hope everyone stays warm today and wish me luck on the roads.

Vulnerable

Ever try to post an entry and never make it past the title?

It's been that kind of a day.

"Woke up this morning.... Got myself a gun"

Back in the days when I had such luxuries as HBO, I was glued to three shows: Sex and the City, Six Feet Under and the Sopranos. For those of you that watch the latter, you may not know that a large part of the series was filmed in New Jer....ahem.... Jersey. Just Jersey.

When scanning the news, I found an article that made me think of James Gandolfini's bear problem. Anyone remember those episodes? For those too lazy to read the summary, Tony Soprano had a frequent visitor in his backyard around the time that he and Carmela were separated. A big black bear. *shudder*

And I remember thinking, no way in hell will I ever live in a place where bears frequent trashcans like possums do in the south. And here is said article. My how the world has changed.

On an interesting note, I heard on a radio show a few mornings ago that Jersey people revel in the fact that many, many Jersey places appear in the opening credits of the Sopranos. If you're curious to view some scenery that I see on a regular basis, scan through the pictures and enjoy the behind-the-scenes info!

Bulldogs take Manhattan

Enter scene:

The crowded bar was similar to an upscale version of Steverinos. Georgia paraphernalia hanging from the rafters and walls screamed out to all the UGA alumni that deliberately left their New York brownstones and condos to gather with their fellow football-obssessed Dawgs. Everywhere you looked the Georgia G was staring back at you from tshirts, baseball hats or jerseys and eyes were bright with anticipation.

Flat screen LCD televisions were strategically mounted high on the walls to offer views to even the shortest fan. And when the line of Dawgs took the field, arms linked and strutting with pride, the small corner of Tribeca exploded. With each and every touchdown, obliterating tackle and fantastic pass, the screaming, high-fiving celebratory chaos made it feel as if we were in the Georgia Dome with them.

Reuniting with my old UGA roommate and another former drumline member that I haven't seen in four years to share in the glorious victory was fantastic. The buckets of beer consumed were many, and spirits were definitely flying high as the score looked better and better. The win was rejuvenating, and I've never been more proud to be a Dawg.

Leave scene:

The night air was cold, but not bitter, as we walked to the subway. Luckily my new (New) Jersey friend was with me to help with navigation, and I could just take it all in. The ride to Port Authority was uneventful (and not that different from Marta). We hopped a bus to get back across the water, by way of a certain tunnel - again. Two drunk Macy's Santa Claus' made the journey with us, and so did four very loud, young people who thought it would be humorous to sing songs from the movie they just saw. Poor Rent. My ears were crying as they butchered the melodies.

When we finally made it home, it wasn't Rent tunes still ringing in my ears. It was even sweeter.

"I said it's great- to be- a Georgia Bulldog."

Thirty days and thirty nights

It's been exactly a month since I moved to New Jersey. A few minor personal victories include:

On the way home from work tonight, I didn't need to look at the directions to get to my current (temporary) place of residence. Well.... okay, I did once. This wouldn't be the case if the directions to work directly mirrored the directions from work. You got it - they're utterly and completely not the same beast.

As with any new experience, after you're waist deep in it for a month some of the really confusing issues you encountered as a rookie seem simplistic at best, and idiotic at worst.

I am shocked to catch foul language rapidly exiting my mouth when another driver screws something up that even I know about.

There are new rookies in the office. Because my newness is so fresh in my mind, I am very patient with their questions. But I'm very relieved to no longer be fresh meat.

Happy Anniversary to me.