if you like me, check this box.

so back in december when i became all single and jazz, i had a little bit of a dating related meltdown. perhaps you remember it? no?

reader’s digest version: 10 years off the market and i found myself completely  clueless about virtually everything dating related or if i would even be attractive to anyone at 34, when the last time i was open for business i was a nubile 24 year old with a temp job and questionable decision making skills.

but at the time, my breakup wounds were fresh, and the actual dating conundrum could wait. i avoided thinking about it. i shopped my way through the move into the bachelor hole. i focused my attentions on the happiness and well being of my true life partner, kazuki.

but here we are 5 months later, and things are all kinds of unexpectedly different (except for kazuki being my soul mate. that’s forever).

i’ll start by telling you a little story about something that happened a few weeks ago:

NSFL: uterine artery embolization is horrible and disgusting PART II

when last we saw our heroine (that’s me), she was smacked out in a hydromorphone haze, leaving her bed only to go to the bathroom (and frequently), get water or juice, or take more pills. i couldn’t walk my dog (trusty nurse zak to the rescue!), put on pants, or eat food of any kind.

at this point, the only major pain was in the gaps between pills if i overslept or forgot. i can’t tell you how many times during those first few days i couldn’t remember whether or not i actually took my pill or not. sort of like those groggy mornings where you can’t remember if you shampooed your hair or not. unfortunately, i would have to err on the side of not taking the pill at all- rather than take a double dose. poisoning myself is a slightly greater concern than too squeaky hair.

but then on tuesday, i sort of woke up. mostly lucid for the first time in days, my first thought was- WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH MY MOUTH?

again, if you’re about to bite into a big sandwich or you want to ask me out on a date- now is the time to debark the story.

valentine’s b-side- loving love is dangerous.

so my real official valentine’s day post belongs to ophelia’s webb today, so you’ll have to go over there if you want to read that mess. but if you’re too lazy to click, the cliff’s notes version is that i love valentine’s day.

when was a little girl, i would spend weeks and weeks making home made valentines for everyone i cared about (long before romantic love could hover over me like a specter of death) and generally just thinkin about all the people i wanted to tell how awesome they are. as a teenager, i wasn’t always great at expressing my love for anyone or anything (picture it- 1992: black lipstick, kafka, ever present scowl), but for some reason, i let valentine’s day be the exception to that rule. and in fact, if i felt compelled to declare my affections to someone in particular, i would often wait until valentine’s day- and spend weeks or months thinking of just the right thing to say that would make them fall in love with me instantly.

this has had varying levels of effectiveness. and has, on rare occasion, gotten me into trouble.

self medicating.

i’m not very good at transitions.

when i was a freshman in high school, i blew out of all my classes and got bumped out of honors english. i spent too much time oogling boys at the skate park and drinking  yukon jack and kool aid from my best friend’s parent’s liquor cabinet. by sophomore year, i was back to my honor roll making, science fair winning, overachieving self.

when i was a freshman in college, my best friend and i used to joke that we should start a band called “champagne headache”. but for serious, i spent the entire year drunk on korbel watching “love boat” on the couch in the common area, and learning how to build the perfect gravity bong.  by graduation, i was back to my dean’s list making, resident assisting, overachieving self.

i’m convinced it was because i started kindergarten just days after i turned 5. always being one of the youngest kids in the class kind of messes you up. but whatever the case, i always get severely beat up when i’m wrestling the kraken that is change. although i do eventually end up victorious. usually.

as much as i overachieved with bong making and box wine swilling in my younger days, i’ve pretty much grown out of my substance abuse phase (save for the occasional too much bourbon day). however, i do have an equally destructive coping mechanism that still remains…

broke207- now broker than ever!

this past thursday at the socialmediaFTW conference, i learned that 94.5% of all blogs end up being abandoned. and as friday was my 2 year bloggy-versary (though i’m not blogging with quite the gusto that i once did), i wanted to take a minute to celebrate the accomplishment of actually lasting this long. even if i stopped today, i’d still have been blogging longer than i managed to stay married, or longer than i have ever gone to the gym consistently.

in addition to celebrating my unlikely survival in the blog universe, i also have something else kind of exciting to celebrate. on october 12th, i’ll be starting a new job!

it’s pretty exciting stuff actually. it’s a position where i will have a chance to learn something new, better benefits, and a whole bunch of vacation (even snow days!), and an actual ladder to move up (you know, if they like me). unfortunately, with all this awesomeness, comes one minor downside: SUBSTANTIAL PAY CUT.

secret stash.

so, i wrote a post for the goodwill of northern new england blog today about my insane vintage fabric collection… but i’m not sure when it will be put up. unfortunately, my broke207 post for today is the B side to that post. and of course,  i don’t have a back up plan.

so today, you’re just gonna have to watch the outtakes of the of the movie before you actually see the feature attraction.

i’ve been watching a lot of hoarders lately, and it is SCARING THE CRAP OUT OF ME. i’m a shopper, a collector, and a lousy housekeeper. i do actually delight in throwing/giving things away, and my house is never so messy that it can’t be cleaned in an afternoon… but as a card carrying member of the OCD club, i worry that something traumatic could happen and all of the sudden that switch could click on in my head and *bam* i could be living in this.

its here…

yesterday, i chartered a bus. i promised that i would attempt to bring the ikea bus to portland, and i’m doing it (APRIL 23rd! MARK YOUR CALENDARS!!). however, i have a few details i need to iron out before  i can officially put tickets on sale later this week. for example, how much will tickets cost?  well, there are two possibilities:

1. $22 ticket where people are allowed to bring home only as much as will fit in the 7′ X 8′ under-bus compartments.

2. $30 ticket where i rent a supplemental U-haul box truck so that people can get couches and mattresses and shit.

i’m inclined to go smaller scale for the maiden voyage, but i also am scared that if people can’t bring back whatever they want, nobody will come! ok, i am scared in general that nobody will come, but i can cancel and get my deposit back 15 days before the event… so the risk isn’t too high. still scary though.

anyway, i’m trying to gauge what ikea bus riders might prefer- lower prices or greater capacity, so i rigged up this little poll to help sort it all out: