Escape your life for a little while — come play in mine.

Back up north

Posted by Lissa on September 1, 2009

I actually got back Sunday, but I didn’t blog yesterday because it would have been nothing but whining.  *sniffle*  Today, I’m mostly done whining, and I’ve largely lost my drawl.  (One of the many, many reasons I’ll never be a politician is that I tend to “reflect” the speech patterns around me; I drawl in the South but pronounce all my G’s in the north.  I once hung out with a bunch of Southerners in London and came out with a full-on speech disorder.  SRSLY.)

So Mike’s apartment is small but nice, a cross between a dorm room and a hotel.  (It’s got that hotel smell, a scent that’s not as wholesome as bleach but that’s the closest I can come.  I made him buy a jar candle and burned it diligently.)  You’d be amazed how much little stuff you need to buy to outfit a completely furnished apartment — dishwasher detergent and sponges and bleach wipes and garlic powder and body wash and ballpoint pens.  And you may take my word for it — the toilet paper that comes with a furnished apartment SUCKS BIG TIME.

It’s very quiet around here with Mike gone.  You see, he talks a lot. *kiss kiss, sweetie*  By myself, there’s no one talking and no one to talk to.  It’s weird.

Thank goodness for Skype.  Mike’s all signed up, as is my mom and my brother in Ireland (which is why Mom signed up).  The cat has been picked up and waved at the camera multiple times.  He sat on my lap during most of my call with Mike last night, being a good kitty.

And I’m trying real hard to enjoy the silver linings of Mike being in Charlotte.  I’m making chicken tzatziki pasta tonight, something I wouldn’t do if Mike were here because he wouldn’t eat it.  We had a lovely, lovely brunch with my old choir conductor and his wife Sunday morning; I brought them wedding favors and some pictures and it was FABULOUS to see my old surrogate parents.  We even managed to hit my old favorite restaurant from college, and dined on lobster tails and filet mignon:

M&M dinner

(Medium rare, of course.  I’ve learned.)

I’m flying to DC this Friday to go to a wedding with Mike, and he’ll be home the two weekends after that.  (I’ve already bought chocolate chips in anticipation — he enjoys my cookies.)  In the meantime, I shall keep my chin up.


P.S.  A coworker asked me yesterday morning  why I seemed sort of irritated and down, not my usual bouncy self.  I tried to give a Reader’s Digest version, but I definitely started it wrong — the first sentence out of my mouth was, “Well, Mike left this weekend.”  Her eyes bugged out and I hastily amended, “No, I mean I helped him move into a temporary apartment!”  That didn’t make it any better.  I took a deep breath.  “Let me start this over.  Mike’s job is posting him in Charlotte for six months.  I flew down with him to help him get set up.  That’s all.”

It’s good to start your day with a laugh 🙂

P.P.S.  Breda, they took my knife away and I had to mail it to myself.  I miss my knife.


One Response to “Back up north”

  1. Jay G. said

    My offer for recoil therapy stands, any time, if you need a quick pick-me-up, Lissa.

    I have found it impossible to be sad when firing a Magnum-caliber handgun.

    Just sayin’…

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