Friday, January 19, 2007


I've been mad at the FI-ance for three days now.

It started on Tuesday when he made a big deal of telling me he'd be home early, but then stayed at work late anyway. Then he was all excited about getting stainless steel hoses for the washing machine. So we spent the next hour and a half calling for prices (I will be so glad when we finally have our internet connected at the house!) and then roaming around Lowe's looking for that shit.

I was thinking,"ok, most of the night's busted, but at least we can get some stuff from my place and work on the house." Yeah, that would've been nice. But it didn't happen.

He elected not to go to my apartment with me so he could 1)install the washer and dryer 2)put up the shower rod and 3)put our mailbox up. Not that those things didn't need to be done, but dammit I really wanted his help. And now the balance of the evening was going to be spent apart.

My FI-ance was thinking this was going to be a speedy little trip, and so did I at first. Then I got there and got even more pissed that he wasn't helping me and decided to grab as much as I could, which ended up taking about two hours. He rang my cell just as I was trying to come in the door with my arms full.

Here, internet, is what got me seriously angry. HE DIDN'T OFFER TO HELP CARRY MY CRAP INSIDE. Oh, not that bad, you say? Well, I asked him to help me. AND HE DECLINED. That's right, the FI-ance decided not to help me so he could get back to his installation of things that could have been finished, OVER THE PREVIOUS WEEKEND. (Side note: he did say he felt a cold or something coming on during that weekend and he was trying to rest up for Sunday's big move, it's not that I don't believe it...but, still.)

Oh, Hell! I was so mad. I already had to take 7 trips to and from the car at my apartment and now I have to do the same thing because you won't help me? I wanted to throw a box at his head.

He then had the nerve to ask if I'd go to WalMart with him while he picked up a dryer hose or some such mechanical crap, SO WE COULD SPEND SOME TIME TOGETHER. No, I'm not even playing. Those were his exact words. At first I said no because it was after midnight and I was tired and pissed and in my pj's. Then he needed help putting up the mailbox, so I had to put on clothes and then figured I might as well go to WalMart and buy shit I didn't need to make me feel less like stuffing my fiance' in the dryer and running it on high.

What's worse is that he did it again last night, make me mad that is. Because he got home by 7pm last night, but it was so he could watch Smallville. You read right. At home early; not to see me, but to watch a fucking tv show. I was angry all night and just like Tuesday told him so.

Now that everything's hooked up, maybe I'll put him in the washer and then dry him. I do so love to have options.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

He's Not A Trucker

We delayed our actual big, truck-renting moving day until Sunday because of the Ice Storm of the Century that never materialized. I cannot express, after over a FULL YEAR of going back and forth between two apartments, how badly I wanted to get this consolidation thing DONE.
The FI-ance suggested, originally, a 24 foot U-Haul. So, that's what I got. Sunday morning, running behind schedule already, we go to pick it up and his face blanches.

"I...I think this may be too much truck for me. I mean, I've never driven that much truck before. That...that's BIG."

I stared at him from inside the truck, where I was checking the starting miles and fuel level. Internet, I do believe you know me well enough to guess my feelings on this.

"What? Listen, I'm sorry, but I need a smaller truck. Would you rather have me drive something I'm almost sure I can't handle? That's a lotta truck to be responsible for. And I'm not even sure that would fit into your parking lot and around those turns; all that's kinda small."

I know it's unreasonable, internet, but I was livid. So mad I could barely speak. So angered that I almost started crying. I just wanted to get this shit over with and he was breaking the flow.

I did get a smaller truck. A 17 footer to be exact, and I thank the SWEETBABYJESUS for that. As it was the FI-ance: ran into a stop sign, knocked over a street sign, drove onto at least 2 sidewalks and scraped off half of a wheel well while running over curbs.

I'm so glad he convinced me to get that insurance at the rental place.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Everything Smells Funny

And by "everything", I mean me. The FI-ance and me moved into the new house this weekend, and what a looong weekend it was. But I'm not saying that in a good way.

I took my first shower last night after almost 4 days of being too tired to bother. Not to mention needing to locate towels and soap and lotion. Or the fact that when you know you're going to get smelly again the next day, why make the extreme effort of showering?

I'm clean now but I swear I'm still faintly funky. I can't take a bath yet because 1) I don't trust the bathtub (I cleaned it out but haven't bleached it and therefore it isn't butt worthy yet) and 2) the damn tub doesn't have a stopper.

You know how they bomb homes for pest control? That's what I feel like I need for personal funk. Anybody know where they sell a B.O. Bomb?


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