The other day I walked in to find Waddles re-folding the towels that I had JUST folded. Everyone folds things differently and I never complain about how he doesn't fold my tank tops into thirds the way I like them and I certainly don't go through the trouble of REfolding them. I don't care that much. But I guess that if you want something done right - you have to do it yourself. Congratulations Waddles - you are on permanent laundry duty.
So the place that we moved into is brand new. I love that we are the first ones to move in. Our dog is the first dog to pee on the carpet. I’m the first one to spill red wine everywhere. It’s great. Except for one thing.
We got to pick out accent colors for the walls when we moved in. We picked out a ‘Sangria Red’ for the living room and a ‘Slate Blue’ for the bedroom. The bedroom looks great. The living room, however, looks like Burnt Umber. I HATE Burnt Umber. I don’t even know why Crayola allowed it in it’s box of crayons. It never gets used. Why would you even create that color? So now I think that Benjamin Moore went out, rounded up all of the leftover Burnt Umber crayons, melted them down and painted them on our wall. We can have them repaint it a different color, but I’d rather stare at it and hate it and complain about it. Oddly, that makes me happy.
Well kids – we’re back. And by back I mean here. Because now we are in Seattle and never having lived here before – I guess it would be hard to be back. After a short stay in NYC where we did nothing but drink our faces off and eat at the 24 hour McDonalds every morning at three am, we have landed in Seattle. We are now officially Seattleites. Washingtonians. From the PWC.
After a week of sleeping on an air mattress, we finally got our furniture. But more importantly we got a Puppy. (I sat here thinking of what I could call Puppy, but then I realized that she pisses on newspaper and chases her tail. I don’t think she cares if she is named in my blog.) So Waddles and I got a Boston Terrier pup called Dempsey. It is a girl. Even though in my head sometimes I think she’s a boy. Because her name is Dempsey. But we named her Dempsey knowing that she was a girl, so I guess I have to get that out of my head.
ANYway, we wasted no time. We got her on our third day here. Waddles pretty much figured that he had a choice of a ring, a puppy, or a baby. Puppy was a no brainer. She is the cutest sweetest thing, except now she is beginning to test her boundaries, which is not fun. AND Waddles gets her all day so she likes him more and I get jealous. I hate being jealous. He gets to sit and play and cuddle and I get to take her on her 6pm walk and pick up her shit. Awesome. I’m gonna make her like me more. If not I’ll just turn our kids against him. I’m very reasonable
I always forget my end notes. I travel in leggings as they are the most comfortable. I went to change and realized that I brought none. It pretty much happens all the time, but whatever.
The boy next to me has color coded notes. Color coded! I forgot to bring underwear* and he's all color coding his notes. I'm lucky that the hotel provided little notebooks or I wouldn't have anything to write on.
And we just had lunch. It was a buffet and one of the stations had chili. Don't you usually get a sandwich and a bag of chips then you can do what you want for an hour (like read the material that I'm supposed to have color coded notes on)?
Nope we have a buffet lunch where all 11 of us had to sit down for our chili lunches and small talk. I hate small talk! I'm the worst small talker ever!!
A. I get really nervous when I have to make tea in front of English people. I always think they are going to judge me for doing it wrong.
B. I haven't read any of the material for this course. I didn't realize I had to because I never even opened the pages.
C. I can't understand the majority of the people in here. Accents get thicker as you move north.
D. B + C = I'm probably going to fail this thing.
I am currently on a train to Manchester for a course that requires you to take a test at the end to pass. I have looked at the material long enough to take the cellophane wrapper off and stick it in a binder. This should be interesting.
My morning so far - I wake up to the sound of my phone ringing in the other room. My car is here to take me to the train station. I look at the clock and come to realize that I set my alarm for 5:30pm, not am. Guess I'm not showering today. (Let's be honest. I probably would have pressed snooze three times and not showered anyway. I'm not a morning person and I hate a shower.)
I got to the train station and got my tickets no problem. Get on the train to find my seat. It is sitting backwards. I don't do backwards. I take the seat across from mine that is heading in the right direction. I start to unload my traveling kit only to realize I forgot it. How on earth am I going to get through a two hour train ride without my sock and shawl (in case I get cold) and my eye mask and earplugs (in case I want to sleep - or just drown people out).
I looked around the train. It was very quiet and fairly empty. My three options at this point were to stay where I was and hope these people remained quiet, pay 15 quid to upgrade to first class, or get up and ask if there was a quiet car. (I can't believe that I miss Amtrak solely for that reason.) I'm lazy and it's 6:30 in the morning. If I go First Class, all of the seats are at tables and I don't feel like staring at someone the whole time. If I take my chances on trying to find a quiet car I may lose the seat I'm in and have to sit backwards the whole time. I decide that sitting backwards would be the worst so I stay put.
Why do I listen to myself? I had just settled in and gotten cozy (minus socks and shawl) when the train makes a quick stop on the way out of London. A man comes to his seat. It is the seat I'm sitting in. My backwards seat is occupied and I don't want that one anyway. He must have seen the desperation in my face cause the nice man told me he would look for another seat. Yes! I win!
Or not. Two seconds later the men sitting behind me start talking. They have the loudest voices ever and they are speaking in a foreign language. It becomes quite obvious that they are going to talk the
whole time. And this time I can't turn around and tell them that they are in the quiet car. And if they are going to talk so loud they should at least speak in English so that I can eavesdrop.
Now I am miserable. Then I catch a whiff of something gross. It's a flavor I have smelled before but I can't quite place it. Then I look at the seat in front of me. On old lady is there. Of course - it's old person smell.
So now it's almost two hours into my ride. I have been caught in between old person smell and what sounds like Morgan Freeman speaking Arabic as loud as possible. I'm cold and grumpy due to lack of extra clothing and earplugs. And now I have to sit through an eight hour course on Anti Money Laundering - and then pass a test.
You can bet your ass I'm going First Class on the way home. And I will probably sans AML certification because I'm too tired to pay attention. But at least I can look forward to getting drunk on the
train by myself. I really need to get a life.
Recent Comments