It's been a long, long time...

...since I posted, but oh, well. Soooo much has happened, and I'm busy, busy, busy all the time.

Biggest news: I'm gettin' hitched.

More to come.

Huntin'

I can't believe I forgot to post about my huntin' adventure last weekend. There is no "g" on the end of "huntin'"; it's illegal to tack it on there.

Background information: My boyfriend is a hunter. He warned me back last February that he makes himself scarce in the fall because he goes down to the huntin' camp almost every free day he has in October and November, and while I thought he was exaggerating a teensy bit at first, I now know that he really wasn't kidding. At all.

And he's not just a weekend hunter. Oh, no. A few weeks ago, I was at his parents' house, chatting with his mom, and he went outside for a bit. I continued chatting, and about ten minutes later, I heard a gunshot. After another few minutes, he walked through the outside door to the living room, past me and his mom, and to the kitchen...carrying some kind of dead animal's meat in his hands. My eyes got huge, and my jaw dropped open, and his parents thought my startled reaction was hilARious. I did not. He had shot two dove and taken out their breasts to throw on the grill with dinner.

I knew he was a hunter. I was not prepared for his level of huntin'-ness.

So anyway, the parents had pity on me and bought a new camper (one of the really nice RV campers, very cute and cozy with an actual kitchen and nice comfy beds) so that I wouldn't have to rough it at the huntin' camp. I think they were scared I would break up with him when I saw the camp. It's...um...rustic.

His mom picked me up from work the other day to drive me down there. She told me that she could tell that my coming down to the huntin' camp was really important to him; he's never taken a girl there before, and he was afraid that I wouldn't like it. He was super wonderful and supportive when my grandmother passed away...he came to South GA and met all my crazy relatives, so I felt like I really owed it to him to make an effort. So I put on my game face.

And it's a damn good thing that I did, because we had only been at the huntin' camp for ten minutes...E was cooking steaks to eat out on the porch, and we were drinking wine and everything was great...when a mouse ran across the porch in front of me.

A mouse.

I have never actually seen an actual mouse before. I have heard people complain about mice, and I've been in houses where someone USED to have a mouse problem, but I've never actually seen one. This is the South; we don't have cold weather, so the mice don't come inside during the winter, and I like it that way. However, this mouse apparently wanted steak, and he wasn't shy about it.

Me (speaking): "Um, honey? There's a mouse right over there by the grill."

Me (in my head): HOLY SHIT THERE IS A FUCKING MOUSE OVER THERE!!!!!!!! HOLY FUCKING SHIT, A MOUSE A MOUSE A MOUSE A MOUSE!!!!

So E's mom starts screaming, and I'm trying to hold it together, and E disposes of the mouse. He's fuming because in the fifteen years he's been going to this camp, he has never seen a mouse, and of course the first time has to be the weekend when he wants everything to be perfect for me. I'm trying to be calm, and since I was in the corner while all the turmoil was happening, I drank my glass of wine, drained it, and poured another before anyone saw me. That helped calm me a little.

A few minutes later, we're having dinner, trying to enjoy the evening without thinking about the rodent that had just been crawling where our feet were not ten minutes before. Across the way, a man came out of his trailer, paced around his front porch for a minute, and then started firing a pistol into the bushes.

Firing a pistol. Into the bushes.

I suppose he heard us wondering what was going on, because he waved at us, gave us a huge grin, cupped his hands around his mouth, and yelled, "ARMADILLO!"

I started laughing so hard I almost peed my pants. And then I had more wine.

Which was great, because after dinner, we were visited by a guy named Bubba. He came up to the porch to talk, and seriously, he was the nicest man, but I had to ask him what his real name was. It was Bubba. Foot in mouth. So I tried to be cool and sit on the porch to show E that I had forgiven him for the mouse incident. I was sitting, dangling my legs off the porch, sipping wine and talking to E and Bubba...and another mouse ran across the porch.

This was my introduction to the huntin' camp. The next day was pretty uneventful (except for the fact that I got to drive the hell out of a four wheeler), but I'm sure there will be more adventures to come this fall.

Harumph

Okay, so obviously I didn't proof that last post. Blogger was being a pain in the ass that day; it wouldn't let me post, so I gave up on it, not realizing that it was going to put it on my blog twice AND that it was going to contain a huge error. Oh, well.

I am just so tired of everything. I am ready for a change. I feel like I've been waiting for something for so long, and that it's almost here...and the waiting is driving me nuts. And I'm starting to become resentful of the person who is making me wait, which I totally shouldn't do, but I can't help it sometimes.

Sigh.

In other news, I've been totally struck with iPod fever, and have been spending way too much money on music.

Randomness

I'm sitting here, freezing cold (as always), typing away with Ray LaMontagne's "Hold You In My Arms" running continuously in my head, and I just want to be on an island somewhere.

I wish it would rain. I'm in a rainy MOOD, and nothing sucks worse than being in a rainy mood when it's sunny outside. We got into the wine last night, and I can't take any aspirin for my headache because of my surgery next week. I'm getting antsy and anxious about the next few months, and I took it out on E...picking fights with him when I didn't really want to, and nagging at him about little things. So now, on top of everything else, I feel guilty, and unsettled, and just plain bad, and...have I mentioned that I really just want to be on an island somewhere?

Actually, I have been in a funk ever since my grandmother passed away. Of course it was very sad, but I wasn't that close to her, and I'm at the age now where losing a grandparent isn't something unheard of. But it really affected me, and I can't help but think that her death was the official end of my childhood, my youth. And always, when someone dies, you start thinking of your own mortality and what the purpose of your life is, and I know I haven't yet started fulfilling mine. Very depressing and hopeless.

I'll always be grateful that my dad called me that weekend and told me to come down to see her in the hospital. But seeing her struggle and take her last breaths, this little shriveled-up person who looked nothing like my grandmother...and seeing her lying in the bed after she died, before they came to take her body away...that changed me in a way that I can't explain. It was different than looking at her when they had dressed her up and put her in the casket...it was just me, standing beside my grandmother's bed, staring at her body. It was surreal. How could that NOT change someone?

And it's totally affected everything these past couple of weeks. I place a lot of importance on things that aren't important, and I keep blowing off things that ARE important because I really don't care right now. I'm super-emotional and keep crying at the drop of a hat, and I just want to be alone most of the time. And then when E says something about me picking up my clothes off the floor, or how the kitchen is messy...I either start yelling or bawling. Sheesh.

Very dramatic and deep for 10am, but oh well. Hopefully, this cloud will lift before too much longer. I just have to keep thinking of nice things...like moving into the new house...and staying here for my birthday weekend in Charleston. Also, my mom just helped me get a loan to pay off all my credit cards, so now I just have one payment every month. It's amazing how much weight is off my shoulders now...I hadn't realized how bad it was.

Okay, enough grousing for one morning. I'm going to take myself to La Mad for lunch and read my biography of Truman Capote, smoke a ciggie and just BREATHE.

I'm Twelve, I Know

I giggled, very immaturely...kind of like when you're an adult and someone farts and you're supposed to be mature about it, but you can't help bursting out laughing...today at the grocery store, when I was checking out and a lady came up to the cash register and said, "Excuse me, but could you get someone to come help me in the nut department?"

Hah!

Nebraska Wedding Pics

Tanner Found!

For the past two weeks, there have been signs all over the neighborhood I cut through to get to work. They're big neon posterboards about a lost cat...I hate cats, so normally I wouldn't care, but this one's name is Tanner, and his owner described him as "tan," "friendly," and "VERY LARGE." I dug that description,so I kept my eyes peeled while I was driving in case I happened to glimpse a gy-normous tan cat who wanted to be friends.

Yesterday, driving home, I noticed that Tanner's owner had put new signs over the old ones that said "Found--thank you!" I thought that was really sweet, and I'm glad that Tanner's fat ass made it home.

I've Checked Out

Today, I'd love to have the balls to just walk up to him and say, F YOU, YOU F'ING F.

Sorry for the profanity. Verb, adjective, noun.