The Opening Taste

March 13th, 2008

When we moved into our last house, we unpacked quickly and, if you ask Adam, we unpacked foolishly and recklessly by putting things in any place, rather than the right place. This is why I am currently surrounded by neatly organized piles of our things and it is also why our kitchen knives are merely resting on the counter, waiting to stab an innocent bystander. And as you can probably guess, this is also why I am considering stabbing myself in the eye with one of those kitchen knives, because THE PILES ARE MAKING ME CRAZY.

Among other things making me nuts: the dog licking her ass, Fred Armisen’s Barack Obama (it’s terrible! IT IS SO BAD, IT ACTUALLY MAKES ME ANGRY) and the whole Eliot Spitzer brouhaha. I feel … I feel bad for the prostitute involved, for reasons unknown, though very likely because she seems so LOST and also I may be a wee bit jealous of the $5300 per hour paycheck. Not that I want to be a prostitute, you understand, but I would like to find something that doesn’t involve the swapping of bodily fluids that will pay me $5300 per hour. And if you were wondering, finding errant commas is not that something.

Adam has announced that he is for legalizing prostitution and would like to initiate a jism tax, if you will, along the lines of a cigarette tax. A JISM TAX. Of course.

Incidentally, I’m not sure that we’ll ever see our car again, seeing as it was shipped from Naples several weeks ago and has not yet arrived. I’m not encouraged by the fact that Adam called about it today and expressed his displeasure at the fact that it seems have gone AWOL, and was responded to in a way that would make cognitive behavioral therapists around the world cheer in solidarity.

“Well, sir, I’m sorry you feel that way.”

How woefully effective, yes? I’m thinking I’ll see our car sometime in December after it tours the greater Sacramento area.

In other news, I should tell you that things are good. Remarkably good, and I’m usually of the superstitious sort who doesn’t like to admit that kind of thing, lest it be ruined by tempting the gods of fate. Except I realized tonight that it’s not remarkably good in the sense that it’s any different from a life that most people have, it’s that our lives before were darker than we realized until we got out of it, you know? I mean, we both go to work — he at an actual workplace, me to a mix of home and the coffee shop — and we come home, have dinner and watch television in front of the fire with a warm puppy. Except that there are other people in our lives now, and though it’s been too short a time to say we have friends, it’s been a surprising comfort to see the same people, day in and day out. For example, I worked next to the same one-eyed man for the last three days in a row. (The eye patch is hard to miss … ) He’s … strangely comforting, in that he knows my name and we wave. Every day.

And Adam loves his job. Loves. And he hasn’t loved his job like this in a long time.

I didn’t mention this before, but our neighbors downstairs (our house has a basement apartment) are a nice couple almost exactly our age, and at least once a day, the woman and I have a chat in our house, and we have lunch plans for next week. And today, when I arrived at the coffee shop, nearly everyone in there already knew me by name — honestly, that small greeting was the most warmly I’d been welcomed anywhere in Florida in the almost three years I lived there. And oh yes, in a little over a week, we’ve found ourselves committed to a fundraising event … at the American Legion … Bingo for charity, you know. I mean, it’s not a Legion-sponored event, but … oh nevermind. Heh. I didn’t say it was perfect.

So there’s that. There’s the start of a small, cozy little life, and even if this is as far as it goes, I appreciate it already. And did I tell you that I’m likely seeing one of my best friends and her baby daughter next week? IN PERSON. AND I WILL DRIVE THERE. You have no idea how exciting that is for me, after being stranded a plane ride away from everyone I love. It’s … it’s a pretty big deal, and yet for most people it’s the simplest thing. I missed that so very much.

I hope you have a great Friday.

*Reindeer Section

PS: Also, because some people asked what I did with it, I did have a little ditty about the survey here, and as I mentioned I LOVE SURVEYS and may have filled it out already like, uh, TWICE. And I would fill it out a thousand times but I don’t think I’m allowed. And yes, I did answer a sex survey once whether I spit or swallow or none of the above because of a strange mixture of naivete and a wild love for surveys. Like an idiot.

But you know, I always feel like such a tool putting something like that up like oh hi, HELP ME WITH MY ADS, and OH THE GUILT. Nevertheless, lest you think I’m being sneaky on purpose, the link for the BlogHer Ads survey is here.

It’s also in shining pink rotation on the right, all guilty-like from time to time. But to assuage my own guilt, I should tell you that the people at BlogHer are really, really nice and wicked smart and helpful.

*Reindeer Section

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Entry Filed under: Nuttin'

13 Comments Add your own

  • 1. anne  |  March 13th, 2008 at 6:58 pm

    Why is it that for such a warm place Florida is wholly uninviting? I’ve lived here for four years and haven’t made half the number of “friends” youve mentioned. People are not welcoming and it is annoying. So I see why you hesitate to mention it.

  • 2. H  |  March 13th, 2008 at 6:59 pm

    A jism tax is an awesome idea but it might be kind of hard to get a jism tax passed considering how much that might cost the elected officials.

  • 3. jonniker  |  March 13th, 2008 at 7:10 pm

    Anne, I have to say the friendliness here is almost eerie. Today, when a woman I’d met exactly ONCE left me at the coffee shop, she hugged and kissed me. It was bizarre. Lovely and warm and so kind and surprisingly genuine, but BIZARRE. So I’m not sure if it’s that Florida is that unfriendly as much as it is that where we are now is terrifyingly friendly.

    I’ve never had so many people ask my name just so that they can call me by it when they see me. Honestly. It’s nuts.

  • 4. metalia  |  March 13th, 2008 at 7:35 pm

    This is why I love you. Fred Armisen’s Obama impression also makes me angry! Like, actually ANGRY OH MAH GAH I AM GETTING ANGRY NOW JUST THINKING ABOUT IT.

  • 5. Angella  |  March 13th, 2008 at 8:07 pm

    As someone who grew up small town, then spent 6 years in Vancouver, only to move to another small town…

    There is something pretty neat about *cue Cheers theme song* where everybody knows your name.

    Just keep your sense of fashion. It will be your link to the rest of the world.

  • 6. She Likes Purple  |  March 13th, 2008 at 8:20 pm

    That’s why we’re in Texas, why Texas has such a tight hold on us…. because my mother is here. Mike’s parents are here. My best friends are here. It’s so hard to think about having a kid and also think about moving away from the people who will undoubtedly love our kid the most.

    I am overcome with happiness that you have those people close because it is so small yet it is all there really is.

  • 7. claire  |  March 14th, 2008 at 5:36 am

    wow, that’s crazy. they actually ask your name… i think i would really like to live in a community like that. I mean, it would probably shake me up the first time a stranger asked me what my name was, but eventually, i think that would be very comforting. Its like Northern Exposure. : )
    I used to stay in a little town in upstate NY on long weekends here and there and i remember walking down the street the first evening there and being greeting by the locals as they passed by. It was kind of culture-shock. But so nice. Good for you for making friends so quickly and easily. It’s probably nice to see that it wasn’t YOU in Florida, it was THEM.

  • 8. erica  |  March 14th, 2008 at 5:39 am

    yay!!!!!

  • 9. Andrea  |  March 14th, 2008 at 6:55 am

    Wait, your CAR, a WHOLE CAR hasn’t shown up in WEEKS, and they have the nerve to tell you they’re SORRY YOU’RE UPSET???

    I hate that phrase, “I’m sorry you feel that way.” It’s NOT an apology. An apology would be, “I’m sorry we’ve done something to irritate you that much,” or just plain, “I’m sorry. I’ll see about helping you better.”

    Can I have that phone number? I’ll call them for you.

  • 10. jonniker  |  March 14th, 2008 at 8:50 am

    Claire, it was me, in part, in Florida. I met very few people I genuinely liked and wanted to spend time with — Soul Gardening Tammie was an exception. I didn’t go to things that would have put myself out there, and sometimes I was a little jerky in that I just didn’t put myself in a spot to accept invitations. The area just wasn’t “me” and we’d checked ourselves out in about a week of being there.

  • 11. Leah  |  March 14th, 2008 at 9:25 am

    I’m patiently awaiting your entry on the first community bake sale of the season. Because in a town like that, there are bound to be community bake sales and lots of them.

    Also, I am happy for you that your neighbors are friendly but please don’t let them initiate you into some sort of wacky religion. (My paranoia may have had something to do with where I grew up…)

  • 12. cassidy  |  March 14th, 2008 at 2:10 pm

    I had my car shipped from Connecticut to Las Vegas. They told me it would take 10 days. After two weeks of waiting I SCU-REEMED at the lady telling her I needed my car to be in Las Vegas in 2 days as I was starting a job. I cried, I threatened, I accused. They got it to me in 2 days. I will never ever ship another car again in my entire life.

  • 13. fred armisen&hellip  |  March 20th, 2008 at 11:17 pm

    [...] used this public means as a pro Hillary propaganda and degraded Obama. Aiamatvjunkie.typepad.comThe Opening Taste When we moved into our last house, we unpacked quickly and, if you ask Adam, we unpacked foolishly [...]

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