Friday, September 16, 2011

All Quiet on the Eastern Front

I wish I could say the reason for my delayed post is due to extreme excitement.  I wish.  Honestly?  I've been finding a new routine and settling into it, which mostly involves working and saving.  Exciting, right?  Don't I know it!

But I am comfortably adjusting.  I have a job which includes revolving doors and cubicles, daily catered meals and security guards, and I'm enjoying it.  It sometimes feels like I'm trapped in a corporate version of The Stepford Wives...with sticky notes and swivel chairs, where everyone walks around like programmed robots with a smile on their face and a kind word to say to anyone in passing.  I keep waiting for one of them to scowl angrily and crash through the guarded doors to release carnage upon the earth in a show of absolute horror and destruction unlike any witnessed before.  But that's life here.  These people offer a smile as quickly as folks back west offer a middle finger during rush hour traffic. Southern hospitality is everywhere.  Even at work...

Things that I've become accustomed to:

--front porch storage; if it won't fit in the back, there's always a porch in the front.
--to-go boxes; good luck cleaning any plate served in these here parts...
--college football.  Three letters come to mind: OMG! The trick to surviving the season, I'm learning, is to avoid wearing articles of clothing in the following combination of colors: 'crimson' and white or red and black.  Especially on game days.
--too convenient convenience stores.  Like Computers and More, where More is served in the form of kinky, leather riding gear.  I conveniently got a VGA cable AND leather pasties all in one go!  They obviously saw me coming...
--hugs from strangers.  Empathy is often repaid with lovin' here.  Also, if you're just meeting someone who is friends with your friend, or a friend of a friend who just met you stumbles into one of their friends or family members of a friend and politely introduces you to them, you will be hugged.  You have been warned.

The temperatures are cooling now, and most days children can be seen with fishing poles in hand at the riverside.  They rarely keep what they catch, choosing instead to toss their crawdads back and take away the satisfaction of another beautiful day well spent at the water's edge with good company. 

Even E-boo has a more laid back air about him and is making greater efforts to adventure beyond the  bedroom's door.  And he's on speaking terms with most of the house now, though his kitten Tourette's still kicks in from time to time when tossed onto the porch and forced to socialize.   I'd imagine his conversations going something as, "Hey, Gigi, what's happening, my cat friend?  Here, let me help get that spot behind your-- Dammit, Kingston! I said to keep your filthy nose away from my tookus, you animal!" *runs to bedroom and flings self onto bed*  Progress, however, is progress.  It's good to see him slowly adjusting as well.

I've been casually house hunting.  Which is never fun.  Almost never.  The idea of it is fun, but there are so many factors to play in the final decision.  Is that a foundation crack?  Are the neighbors serial killers?  Were those gunshots?  Are you sure this is the best I can do?  So many things to consider...

I'd like to get a feel for Atlanta, too.  My good friend, Sarah, will be here in January to stomp through the big city with me, and I intend to take advantage of that time to look around at the housing opportunities there.  I am lovin' this state, and I can't imagine not lovin' its capital as well.  Also, more schooling opportunities are further north.  Though at this rate, I doubt I'll be able to legally teach a class of budding students before the age of fifty.   Still, progress is progress.

I suppose, for now, this shall have to suffice as a decent update.  I could continue to ramble on about the small details of life.  Like how those giant cockroach things that hunt men and eat cats are becoming the bane of my existence.  How we leave the front door open in the evenings to welcome in the cool breeze and only manage to welcome in the flying Kamikaze cockroaches of doom.  Or how the old school building that hides our cul-de-sac from curious eyes has been converted into a training building for local police officers to chase/rescue criminals/victims with toy guns all day.  There's also my new found respect for green beans and pork and bone-in chicken and blue cheese and Spanish rice to mention.  I swore them off, but Dad isn't just a cook; he's a god of the kitchen (minus the dishes), and he's made it his personal mission to fix what others have broken with my taste meal at a time.  Or maybe I could mention my efforts to learn Russian.  I'm still working on the alphabet, which is from A to Я, and its pronunciations, but progress is progress.  I'm sure to be singing the A,Б, B's in no time.

But I wouldn't want to bore anyone who might still be reading this.  I'll spend an afternoon with my camera and post an update, which might actually entertain a few, another day.  For now, however, routine is the name of the game.  But I'll gladly play it. 

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