It Always Has To Be Drama With This Girl...

The plan this evening was for me to have a nice, relaxing dinner with my grandparents while they were both briefly and unexpectedly in town.

I met them in their hotel after a brief "Where are you again?" spiel, and after telling them all about the situation with my roommate we headed to Red Lobster.

Soon we were back at the hotel and I was fighting off tears knowing they would be leaving me the next morning after breakfast. Of course hearing my story not only prompted them to let me stay in the hotel with them (in a REAL BED! What a treat!), but also to stay over to help me move.

The next day came way to early for me, and we were off to have breakfast, they were off to get me the few things my measley brains could scramble that I needed, and I went to work with the plan that they would meet me at the apartment.

Luckily when we got there, my roommate wasn't home, so we began quickly moving things starting in the common areas down the steps to my now downstairs (directly) apartment.

My roommate came home with about 6 other people as we were finishing up moving things out. Of course they had to sit on their asses at the table, in the middle of the room, and not offer to life a finger. "No, we got it, thanks."

Before I walked out the door, the new roommate asked me about the keys. "The office told me I needed to turn it into them" I said. That was technically a lie since I had never inquired, but I certainly wasn't going to hand them over to her and then for her to say that I hadn't.

Seeing as it was almost 7 p.m., I knew the office would be closed, and my grandparents wanted me to finish moving my stuff from the storage unit, so we piled into the car without a second thought and headed down the road to my storage unit. Realizing I had left my purse in the car, and didn't know my entrance numbers for the pin pad, we turned around and had come back. I waited until I saw the office girl and the former roommate and new roommate enter the "P" building and went to my car. I was digging through my purse when the office girl called my name in the parking lot!

She asked me for the keys which I handed over, and said, "Sorry, Sarah told me I had to turn it into you" and everyone was on their way.

Except I was livid! How frickien childish can you be?! REALLY? They had to run to the office as soon as I left the apartment? What if no one had been there? And they chose to come to my apartment door while I'm trying to move things? Seriously?

Well she's gotten what she wanted, and I'm done with her, hopefully once and for all!

I finally found a roommate!

The last I had heard, Jesse Metcalfe look-alike had not confirmed his spot so that meant I was staying put until they found me a roommate.

So imagine my surprise when Sarah told me she had one more person she wanted me to meet. "Geez Sarah," I explained. "I'm at work now, and I won't be home until 8:30, can he meet me then?" She explained that he couldn't due to that he needed to return to Kansas City this evening so I gave her directions to my job and he would meet me there.

When Mike first walked in the door, I was on the phone, and couldn't see him. But my first impression was..."Who ya gonna call?" Yes, he looked like the dude from Ghost Busters.

We stood and we talked for a few minutes, and before saying goodbye he said to me, "Okay, well I guess let the office know what you think."

As soon as he left, I called Sarah back and said that things would be fine. I move in this weekend.

Any Day Now...

As it turns out daddy does not approve of said boy living with girl before marriage. I Tarzan You Jane is all I can muster in response to THAT.

The good news is that Sarah always delivers the bad news followed by the good news. It's kind of like a three-course meal: survive the 2nd course and you make it to dessert.

The good news is that she has another prospective boy roomie lined up. And the first words out her mouth was, "Girl, he is FINE". I laughed. I laughed long and hard. Until I met him. Jesse Metcalf move over, this boy can come mow my lawn (er that sounds dirty doesn't it?) anyday. If you watch Desperate Housewives, you know what I mean!

We walked and talked for a long time. Sure he's cute, but he's also young (20), and has a 20 year old mentality about things. Like partying and staying up late, and having people over.

Ultimately though we decided everything would be fine for us to move in together. (And he has furniture to boot!) Sarah gave me a big hug as if I just found the boy I was going to marry or I don't know a million dollars. I told her to make sure it was what he really wanted, and to let me know before scooting out.

Waiting to hear any day now...

Life Should Not Be This Ridiculous

Well I met the guy that Sarah had in mind for me yesterday. Suffice it to say that I don't know if things will pan out, but it has to be better than living with my current roommate. Honestly, I have been reduced to watching shadows and lights under my door to strategically plan my dinners/time in the common areas. Life should not be this ridiculous.

The guy that came to meet me has a name that I can't remember, and it's likely more than my inability to remember names. He had large clown hair, but black and he looked greek. He used his tongue to talk way too much. I found out he's a grad student at UNC and that he has no furniture. I also found out that sometimes he likes to have people over, which is all fine and good.

However, when Sarah came out to check on the conversation, he asked if we could have a few more minutes. SERIOUSLY? This is a roommate situation, not a relationship. But there wasn't really a red flag until he needed to phone his daddy...

Silly me, I should've prepared...

I got a call from the Management Office today--and they left a message on my cell phone. I guess from all the calls I didn't get about Ray (causing a ruckus, being at the pool without me, drinking at the pool etc) I should've been prepared.

However I was blown away when Sarah's southern accent answered the phone and I, a sitting duck, was returning her call.

"So what happened?" she asked me.

I told her the story of the way things had gone down with my roommate, Christal.

She then told me that Christal, being the little bitch that she is, had gone to the Management Office one day a few weeks back. Why? Because I, in an effort to conserve electricity, had turned off the air conditioning unit. I figured that we shouldn't be keeping it cool unless someone was in there, and we had already had the discussion where I wouldn't, and had not done it again.

She said Christal told her things like when we were getting to know each other I seemed really interested.

"Yeah Sarah," I said. "I really was. But it's hard to get to know someone when they choose to lock themselves in their bedroom all of the time."

She said she understood my point, and hearing things from my side gave her a whole new perspective on the situation. I confirmed that I would be interested in meeting the guy, and we set up a meeting.

Fingers crossed, here's to hoping I cam move out this weekend.

Moving Again...

If my roommate had been home for the whole "picking up a stranger in a BAR and bringing him home" saga, I could understand the conversation that came about tonight.

When my roommate came home, I automatically knew something was up. I first got the feeling when I walked past a car that definitely wasn't hers, and I thought I saw her sitting inside of it. Not wanting to wave at complete strangers, I continued on my way into my building, and started making dinner for myself.

Thinkinh I heard her coming I opened the door to find...nothing. So I ventured over to the balcony and peered over where not only my roommate, but also her friend from school were making their way up. Saying something like, "Sorry, I didn't see you" in a friendly tone only got a nasty face and a defensive "WHAT?" from my roommate. Glad to see you too.

When she came into the apartment she didn't say a word. She simply kept walking and her friend followed, stopping briefly to come back, apologizing for not introducing herself and then departing.

I smiled to myself. "See, we can coexist in the same room, and I can be friendly to company when I'm in the common areas." I'm sure a smug little smile rested on my face.

Soon my roommate came and stood on the other side of the table with her friend next to her as if she were testifying at a trial.

"There's no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to come out and say it," she began.

My mind began to race. What could I have possibly done? She didn't know about the Ray thing, and any of her stuff we used while cooking looked as though it had never been touched.

"We want to swap roommates," her friend said finally.

She explained the situation: the girl was commuting long-distance from Burlington, they shared more of the same lifestyles and habits, routines and such. And when they began talking about how great this apartment complex was, there was a guy looking for a roommate, but she didn't feel comfortable living with a guy. And she's only 17!

I told them I was fine living with a guy, but that they would have to do all the work in calling the office and so forth.

Before we closed the conversation though I asked if I had done something wrong. "At the very least to apologize, if not to make things right." My roommate wouldn't even make eye contact, and her friend answered me "no it's nothing that you did."

Now why wouldn't I believe that?...

When he shows up at her door....

The whole bringing Ray home was less scary than it seemed. He took a shower. He did some laundry, and we slept. We slept a long time. So much so that by the time we got on the road, and headed back to Raleigh where he told me he was "securing his tools". He borrowed $20 from me to do this, and by the time we got on the road it was nearing 7 p.m. Figuring that Roanoake Rapids was only an hour and a half that we'd be there by 9 and I'd be home by midnight.

The truth was that it took longer than an hour and a half to get there, and so my descent home much much later than I'd anticipated. The first place we stopped was off some exit, Ray telling me he needed to use the bathroom. I complied and he ran into some sort of Southern fast food restaurant for a few minutes. When he came back out, he sat in the driver's seat with a face as pale as if he had seen a ghost, unable to function, let alone talk, and it seemed as if the only way to get through to him was to yell at him. His response was merely to slowly move the keys over to me and to hand them over as he managed to say, "Can we please get out of here?"

As we drove I accused him of doing drugs. He told me he wasn't. I called his bluff. And I was further convinced when he dropped a bag of something I couldn't see out the window, when I demanded to see the "Counterfeit money" he attempted to use to gain cash inside of the fast food chicken restaurant.

We continued on our way, stopping for a moment to "see his ex-wife's kids" as I waited impatiently in the car. Thankfully, despite her car being there, neither she nor the kids were there for me to see.

When we finally made it to Roanoak Rapids, he took me to several places he "thought he could stay".

The first looked like a crack house, not that I've ever seen one. It had what could have been a large, beautiful bay window, but instead the glass was missing, and covering the window was plastic. In the plastic in the small left hand corner was a hole. I could see through the hole, and of course they could see me. Of course they looked at me like I was the crazy one.

Some icky looking man whom reminded me of Lurch on a much smaller scale stood guarding the side of the house. Ray had warned me before we pulled up that someone might try to mess with me, and if they did, I was to tell them Ray was in the house, but to keep the doors locked.

As if on cue, as soon as Ray exited the car, Lurch headed towards me. "Ray...Ray..." I said from inside the car. And as soon as I was damn near ready to slide over and commit vehicular manslaughter, if necessary to get the hell out of there, Ray turned around and told the guy "No" as if he were a bad dog. The man resumed his post.

Ray was gone for a few minutes, and came back with the same white-faced look that I had seen earlier in the car. He told me that he "couldn't stay there because his first ex just lost her baby". Thankfully I was relieved, but also confused...what does that have to do with anything? And why weren't we going to his sister's house?

The second place he took me to looked like a modified junk yard. Outside a dog of unknown breeding was chained up outside. I SWEAR that dog could see me. I sat perfectly still in that car, for fear of the cops being called, and didn't move except to breathe. The dog stared me down, barking occassionally. I prayed that the cops didn't come, especially with me having out of state plates and all.

He came back and explained that he couldn't stay there because the dude and his girlfriend were having a fight, and the dude wasn't even there.

We decided at this point to head to the lake. It was the only thing I wanted out of the whole deal. Unfortunately going to the lake included going down a dirt road (I have a Sebring people not a damn Jeep) past a modified trailer park. Of course we couldn't sneak down to the lake, that would have been too easy. So instead we stopped to talk to a guy who's trailer looked like it had so many to the ceiling piles the man would never be able to find his way out. While I was waiting, another dog caused such a ruckus that the neighbors decided to shine a spot light over my car. Thinking quickly, I ducked down, and waited for the light to pass over me. When it did, I waited a few more seconds for Ray to come back and we left without ever touching the lake.

Ultimately I left Ray at a gas station with $40 that he was supposed to use to catch a cab back to the NC/VA border where he'd stay the night. He promised to call me when he got there, about the time I'd be on Route 64. Before I left he told me that he "just needed to get done with his business and get back".

I've never heard from him since. He was supposed to come back Thursday, and I ran home at lunch to find no Ray. I waited all weekend for him to no avail. And yet a part of me honestly expects to one day run into him, when he shows back up at my door.

Greyhound and Make-Shift Hot Dog Carts...

If I had been smart enough to run, there wouldn't be a story, much less insight to be learned.

We ended up heading out of the bar, and across the street to the park where a Latin Festival was taking place. He didn't put his arm around me, or try to hold my hand. We simply walked side-by-side and took in the scenery. At one point I turned to him and said.

" Did you just check out my butt?"

He gave me a guilty look, and in a slow southern draw confirmed my suspicions. What's funnier is still is that I never actually saw him do it. And told him as much with a laugh.

We walked and talked some more with an occassional one-armed hug. Soon, it looked like it was about to storm, and having found ourselves severely out of place in the Latin community, we headed up Blount street.

We walked and we talked some more. We observed some statues, took in some history, and I marveled at how much he resembled an ex of mine. This was too good to be true. We rounded the blocks, finally arriving at his corner bar of choice, and stopping for a drink.

He told me of many personal things--like that his dad had killed his mom, and them himself two days after Christmas. And that NC does not clean up crime scenes. I wish I could erase the pain I saw embedded there.

Maybe it was then that he tugged on my heartstrings. No bull-shit. Just real and true pain.

We walked some more, with him telling me he didn't want me to leave, even though he knew he should be hitting the road. I couldn't let him hitchhike--didn't he know that was dangerous?!

I took a deep breath and told him as much. "C'mon," I said. "Let's go to the Greyhound station and get you a bus ticket."

We got the car, and didn't have to pay for parking, much to my surprise. Way to go NC! No charge if your car is in the lot after they close.

We drove for a bit trying to find the Greyhound station in the maze of tangled streets. Everything looked familiar, but yielded no results, so we finally stopped and asked for directions.

We made it to the Greyhound station, which also conveniently housed the police station only to find the counter closed. The sign directed inquiries over to a car that looked like it should resemble a hot dog stand in the middle of what could be an airport terminal.

Unfortunately the people running the make-shift Greyhound counter had no idea what time the bus would leave, but it certainly wouldn't be that night.

Ray had no where to go. I couldn't let him sleep on the sidewalk any more than I could let him hitch hike. So back to the car we went, and off to my apartment we go.

I should've run...

Against my better judgement, I'd been having the urge to check out Craig's List and find something to do. The thought occured to me at work, and like so many other things I intend to do, I figured it would get filed away and never done. So when the thought occured to me a second time at home, I should have known better.

I logged onto the website and found a guy under the strictly platonic section whom had a girlfriend, wasn't looking to change it, and wanted to meet up in downtown Raleigh. I wrote him, and after the exchange of a few e-mails (and slow-poke typing on his part), we decided to meet at an Irish bar, at 3:00.

I live in Carrboro, NC which puts me about 40-45 minutes away from Raleigh. I wrote him back telling him there was 0 chance of me making it there by 3:00 and headed out the door.

When I got to Blount Street, where the bar was located, I was surprised to find it resembled very much like downtown Philly, but on a much smaller scale. I must have driven around four times to find on-street parking, to no avail and finally settled on a parking garage.

As I made my way to the bar, I was both excited and hopeful. I love meeting new people and to have someone to just hang with was perfect. Plus I had Chris and he has his girlfriend so there was no awkwardness there.

When I walked into the bar, I realized I had no idea whom I was supposed to be meeting. The bar was quite large, set in the center of the restaurant, and an older gentleman that I can't describe as looking anything more than slightly above homeless moved his bag for me to sit, and I politely declined.

As I rounded the bar, I found a woman sitting alone and deciding she was the safest bet, I sat down next to her. I began talking to her, explaining that I was waiting for someone, and making conversation as I scoped out the bar. She explained the man that went to move his bag for me was a regular, so probably not whom I was meeting.

There was another guy at the end of the bar whom looked like he had a few as glasses were piled around him, and I remember making the offhand comment that I hoped he wasn't my date.

Talking to the woman, I never caught her name but I did find out that she was a hostess for the restaurant, and soon it was time for her to get to work. When she got up and left, the cute man from down the bar slid in next to me. He introduced himself, and I explained my situation. He offered to sit with me, and to talk until my "friend" showed up.

The conversation headed in the normal direction, what I do, what he does, what I planned to do with my friend etc. He told me he loved animals, which I found to be quite skeptical, after all the attraction was obvious.

And soon, I realized whom he reminded me of. And I should have run then.

Close Call...

Tonight I officially gave in and headed to the modified emergency room otherwise known as "urgent care". There I sat and waited for about 2 hours round trip, and met Dr. Miller, whom is apparently married, although his sexuality was in question from the get-go.

It took 6 x-rays to determine that there was no fracture to my foot. I was told to wrap it, ice it, elevate it, and otherwise stay the hell off of it. I was prescribed prescription pain meds as well to alleviate the pain.

I wish I could say that I was a model patient. That I elevated my foot every chance I got, that I iced it faithfully for 20 minutes on, 20 minutes off, and that I kept it wrapped. Unfortunately the truth is that in order to pay miniscule things like RENT, I have to work.

The other unfortunate truth is that ace bandages can shift leaving the foot unsupported so they happen to not be my restraint of choice, and anything else left my foot so fat I couldn't get my shoe on, let alone apply pressure.

So determined that since no fracture was present, and I was otherwise okay, I grinned and beared it. I didn't even cash in on the prescription pain meds.

I did however manage to avoid a $600 bill thanks to finally having insurance.

This close call was brought you straight by stupidity. Visiting a town near you.

We'll be making waves in a no wake zone...

I forgot to mention the most exciting part of renting the Wave Runners--and no it was not getting burnt.

We were doubled up--kind of ironic given that we were all girls--and we headed out to where we could legitimately act like idiots after getting gas.

All exaggerations aside, we did not have the wave runners 5 minutes before the "Sea Police" were on our tail asking for license and registration.

Seriously?

None of us had our licenses on us (hello we're on wave runners), and since they were rentals we had no idea where the registration papers would be.

There was talk of having to return the Wave Runners so soon, when Lea my boss was quick enough on her feet to pull out the business card of the people we rented them from. They were kind enough to answer their cell phone and told the sea cop where we could find the papers.

He intended to give us a ticket for waking in a no wake zone, but Lea's flirtation techniques took us down to just a warning a piece.

"Man, if I wasn't married," she said.

I didn't tell her that she may have had to take that one for the team.

You see, on Jordan Lake there is a buoy when you enter the no wake zone, and then another buoy when you exit. The problem is that the buoy on the exit it way close to shore, and you pass a buoy within 50 feet of you before the far-out buoy and you can see how confusions happen.

Now if I could just get the song "Redneck Yacht Club" out of my head...

Wave Runners

Today was probably the most exciting day of my life, by far the most dangerous, and simply the most fun I've ever had.

What started out as jeans, a t-shirt, and a surprise birthday party turned out to be much more fun than expected.

Jennifer, a girl I work with, came over to help me move the television, the final item out of the old apartment, and we headed right to the surprise birthday party.

When we arrived, there were already several people there, and the grill was fired up. Before long, shoes were kicked off, and we headed down to the sandy part of Jordan Lake to try out the Wave Runners that Dr. Sands and her family had rented. Of course this is not before Dr. Sands son in law decided to inform us that "in the event that we fell off, we should 'just scream' and he would come save us."

I managed the most serious face I could muster, devoid of emotion, before saying, "Thanks" as sarcastically as possible. Somewhat fortunately for his feelings, he didn't get the remark. Seriously though, there were tons of people. How would he identify our screams any more or less than the noise on the beach? And if you can't swim, or fear bacterial infections, I don't recommend Jordan Lake.

I made the mistake of rolling up the bottom of my jeans, and heading on a jet ski with my boss, Lea. My bigger mistake still was not being afraid. My largest mistake was trying to swim in jeans. At one point things were so crazy that I instinctually grabbed the handle bars, and no amount of telling myself to let go, actually let them go until I was ready. After a few power slides, we headed back to shore, and I managed to walk around in soaking wet jeans, and my t-shirt for the better part of the day.

Before long, we had decided to rent two wave runners, preferably the two we had been experiencing life on when the party returned them.

After a brief drive, and a trip to target for an eeensy weensy little bikini bottom (much easier to swim in than jeans), we were off.

The day was filled with lots of swimming, and power slides until I fell off during one, smashing my left foot into fiber glass. There was unbearable pain, pain, and then the ability to swim.

I felt about 90% sure that my foot wasn't broken, but it immediately bruised. Still, two hours is a long time on a bruised, if not broken, ankle.

Soon it was made clear to me that being on a wave runner was not fun for me anymore. Truth me told, I was afraid of falling off, and hurting myself again. So I told the girls, and they told me that I could have my own wave runner for the remainder of the time--which I had a blast on. And the best part was that if I got scared, I could always let off of the throttle.

We headed back to shore a mere three hours later to Lea's car, both tired, sore, and badly burnt, but content to be us none the less.

On the topic of marriage..

Tonight Chris officially broached unchartered territory. Out of the blue he asked me what kind of wedding that I want.

I stopped, and gave him a coy smile. Do I honestly admit that many times on my morning commute to work, and on my way home that a smile has crossed my face because daydreams of our wedding has crossed my mind?

I polled several of my coworkers as to me this was definitely odd behavior, especially coming from a man 9 months into our relationship.

Jennifer told me that when she met her husband, Josh, that she knew he was the one, instantly. She asked me as to whether I felt that way about Chris.

My mouth twisted kind of wryly as I said "Well...yeah"

Marriage is such a scary thing to me. As much as people say that they're married without the piece of paper are so wrong. Marriage, and that step changes everything. Undoubtedly my greatest fear is waking up 15 years into a marriage and discovering that either myself, or my partner doesn't want to be there.

Marriage is scary. The prospect of change is scary. But marrying your best friend? Less scary.

Still it can't happen tomorrow, nor am I ready for life to happen any faster than I intend it to.

I did eventually end up telling him what I saw in terms of our wedding, but my bottom line remained that if it was him and me, hell the cat in the hat could be there, but the other details were unimportant.
I'm still not sure what his question meant, and he's not volunteering that information either...