The news from NorthCarolinaLand


I’ve had to stop calling it “Mythical” since crossing the state line twoish weeks ago.

Dave had his first day of work last Monday. He’s having trouble shaking the negatives, but when you’ve had such a bad case for so long, I guess anything can be hard to shake. He sees the light more and more at the end of the day, and while tired, he’s not nearly as drained. Also, my time is MY TIME again. I don’t have to share him with anyone when we’re home. He did mention there will be overtime opportunities in the future, possibly near future. and I’m okay with that. I’m okay with work time cutting into My Time when we’re compensated for the… inconvenience if you will. And it helps that he likes this job more. He said the lack of responsibility is refreshing.

I had an interview with the county library system in the county below us. As of writing this, I still hadn’t heard back. I ventured a call to them on Wednesday, and was told that the hiring process had left the library and was no in the hands of Human Resources. Fingers crossed, fingers crossed. I mean, IF I don’t get it, then off to PetsMart I go, as that’s really the only retail chain where I could fathom spending the holidays. I’ve worked retail for a few years and never, repeat NEVER worked the holidays. I’m not looking forward to it.

Speaking of The Holidays, this season’s going to be a wash in The House of S. We’re unsure of our finances at the moment, and really just don’t have the time to travel so far away.  Heartbreaking when one takes time to consider the tragic events of last week. I’d rather not talk about it, but you can find details here. While I don’t know if Dylan was wearing his seat belt, I doubt it would have helped. Twelve year old verses 18 wheeler never ends the well for the twelve year old.

People keep asking about alligators and hurricanes. I tell them yes on both accounts. We have alligators and hurricanes. We eat alligators during hurricanes. We have hurricane parties. We eat crazy shit. There’s a difference between Creole and Cajun, namely the black part. I’m Cajun, not Creole. Nobody can pronounce my name, big surprise. I’m one more “Gee-Anne” away from readopting Elizabeth. It’s just… a desecration. My name is awesome, but Ms. NiceyPants never learned how to properly correct the public without feeling like a bitch. I’m pretty sure I can blame Alice Felgner for that one. If you’re still alive, Mrs. Felgner… I hate you.

We’re sticking hard to the “No cable” mantra. It helps that our provider up here is Time Warner, otherwise known as The Man, and we want to give as little money to The Man as possible. So, mid tier internet it is.

Unpacking is… well it just is. I mean, this is what happens when you leave an ADD squirrel with narcoleptic tendencies in charge. I really should fire that squirrel and do it myself. Also, every time I type the word “squirrel” I simultaneously hear Veruca Salt say “sqir-Elle” and Maggie Smith say queer-elle. It’s fun.

Of course, our lack of furniture doesn’t help this whole unpacking process. I can really only shift boxes around. We’ll make a trip to Ikea and rectify all of these travesties in the near future.

I may have left my ability to spell somewhere in Alabama. I hate Alabama. Only someone who’s had to traverse the state longways from southwestern to northeastern corner at night in a car that smells of cat urine can truly understand the depth and breadth of my loathe for Alabama. Sweet home my ass.

I love the atmosphere in NorthCarolinaLand. The trees are in the midst of denuding, and it is gorgeous. The weather is amazing. I have this whole collection of sweaters I rarely wear that should now get ample rotation. Stoked I tell you, STOKED. Also… someone promised me snow. Commence to squee. I’m not terribly fond of how fast the sun goes down. By 5:30, it’s almost night, and our evening walk feels like a stroll through Duskwood.

I’m terribly bored most of the day. I miss people. I miss specific people, sure, but I mean the universal People. Sitting at home… all day… nothing to do… no one to talk to…

Okay, you caught me. That nothing to do part was a fudge. I still have plenty to do around this place. Like I said, we’re swimming in boxes. Just swimming. Of course there are something I just can’t take care of yet. We lack to proper furniture to completely unpack, and of course, lack the funds to procure said furniture.

If I were to rate the first leg of this adventure on a scale of one to ten, one being a padded cell and ten being mount everest… I’d call it a six. Maybe a seven.

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