Me: Hey thanks for taking the initiative to do laundry without me asking.

Ken: Uh, right. Actually I just needed some of that stuff for my trip this weekend.

Me: Oh. Figures.

Ken: Well, I DID do some of your laundry too.

Me: Because you needed a big enough load to run the wash?

Ken: Nooo.. Because I was being nice!

Cut to today:  I am selflessly doing laundry for both of us because it needs to be done–when I go to put the stuff I just washed into the dryer what do I find? All my clothes that were innocent bystanders of Ken’s selfish act where he only used my clothes to fill up the load, but left them there hung out to dry.  Minus the hanging part.


On Saturday

I worked Ken to the bone.  Last year,  before I moved away, we started painting the master bedroom.  We got that and the master bath, but the sitting room was never finished.  When I moved away, Ken took over what used to be my office–so now that I’m back I decided to turn our sitting room into my new office and now it needed to be finished.  It’s where I’m at right now, it’s very nice and very yellow. This is after hours and hours of having Ken move furniture around, remove curtain rods, tape and paint and then repaint over missed areas. He was exhausted as he was still trying to adjust from his usual schedule of sleeping during the day.

I hardly helped, because I’m kind of useless like that.

When he went to Home Depot, because we ran out of paint, he wondered to himself if there would be a color difference in the new paint and the paint that was a year old. He decided he’d compare with the bit that he had on his fingers by grabbing a bit off the sample they use to indicate the color of paint on the lid of the can. When the paint guy pushed the can of paint across the counter towards Ken, he touched the still wet splash of paint, but because he was so fucking tired and so fucking out of it– he then instinctively brought the tip of his finger to his tongue to taste it.

Then he realized what he’d done.

Then he immediately felt stupid.

Then rather than explain he was too tired to have any idea why he’d done that he just said, “yup–that’s gold buttercup alright. Thanks.” Then grabbed the can of paint and walked off leaving the paint guy  thinking that the only way Ken could verify the paint color was by tasting it.

And I just laughed out loud again thinking about this.

I am in Chattanooga.

My goal was to make it at least to Birmingham, but because I stopped right before getting to Birmingham to eat, I was able to go a few more hours to make it all the way here.

July 6th……


July 8th.

I started writing that entry while sitting on a king size bed in a Best Western right outside Chattanooga.  Then I realized I was sitting on a king size bed in a Best Western right outside Chattanooga and that I was really TIRED.  I had spent over 12 hours in the car that day, so I shut the laptop down and passed out.

Just now I was sitting here thinking about finishing this entry and thought, but I started it on my laptop–and now Im at the desktop. Should I start a new entry or fire up the laptop?  I’m EXHAUSTED and for an entire 20 minutes totally forgot that, uhm, this entry is saved in wordpress–not the laptop.  And furthermore, only realized this when I decided I was too tired to fire up the laptop and logged into wordpress to find my draft, like… oh right.

I’m still delirious from the trip.

On under 5 hours sleep, I drove the last 9 hours of the trip to get home yesterday.  You know, driving long distance is really exhausting! You would think just because you’re sitting back in a comfortable seat, that it’s easy–but it’s not.  You have to stay alert the entire time and because people don’t all drive at the same consistent speed–you can’t even set cruise control and sit back either.  Knowing that you’re so close, yet so far, keeps you from wanting to make ANY unneccessary stops — which then drags out the trip even longer. In my situation, I had the backseat so full of things that I had to push the driver’s seat forward and couldn’t even stretch out my legs all the way.  It was miserable. I had also forgotten to set my GPS to eastern time, so when I realized it was still set to central time and that the arrival time it was announcing was off by an hour and that I actually still had one more hour left on the road, on a highway that refused to fucking end, I turned the radio off and drove in utter silence, literally sulking.

Any funny highlights I had from the first leg of the trip, that I clearly intended to blog about, are totally gone now. Whatever. I didn’t get pulled over for speeding, didn’t get stuck in traffic for two hours, didn’t break my sunroof and didn’t whatever else plagued the same trip in the opposite direction when I took it last year to get to Texas.  Other than it being so god damn long, the trip went really smoothly.

Oh, I guess I was probably going to say something philosophical about my returning to Virginia and giving my relationship with Ken a second shot.  Who cares, though.  Other than it took spending a year apart to realize we didn’t have it so bad after all and that we argue about the same things all couples argue about; money, sex, drying pots on the stove–that there was no real BIG reason to be so dramatic about getting up and moving away to like an entire other state. Or something.  Well, that and that the entire year that we spent apart–we still talked on the phone a hundred times a day– so our relationship sort of expanded to a level that we’d never reached before as just “a couple.”

I’m not pretending it’s flawless suddenly, far from it–but then–I’m too delirious right now to elaborate.

Wow, this entry is all over the place.

After driving 9 hours yesterday on less than 5 hours sleep I proceeded to stay awake with Ken until 4 am–making the total time I’d been awake equal exactly 20 hours. In the past 3 days, I had probably slept no more than 10 hours total. I kept saying throughout the night, “I can not believe I am still awake!”  I finally dozed off sometime after 4 only to be torn from my sleep a little after 7 when Ken sent one of the glass shelves we have hanging by our bed crashing down in a loud spectacular crash.  I haven’t been able to fall asleep since that happened over 2 hours ago and Ken was able to fall asleep, unaffected, 2 minutes later.

He is still snoring.


So now I’m packing to move to back to VA.

I have this long entry written out in my head about relationships and how they’re so fucking hard and how people don’t talk about how they’re so fucking hard because they use all their energy trying to project to the world that their relationship is flawless and make the rest of us feel even more insane because of how fucking hard our relationship is and I guess we’re the only ones that struggle because every one is just having a good ole fucking time fucking all the time even!

I want to write about this. With less curse words. But then, I don’t want to be the first one–just in case nobody else has these problems — in which case — hey my relationship is effortlessly flawless too.

Not really.

I’ve just got other stuff to do first. Like de-cluttering to move. I want to go through all these old journals that have just a few pages written in them and just burn everything. Including the written pages. That seems tragic doesn’t it? The only purpose rereading old journals serves is reminding me that I was a bloody awful whiny writer, good god, and that not a whole lot has changed.

I didn’t really make any realistic (or as is usually the case unrealistic) new years resolutions other than to learn Chinese because I read in a book that Ted Bundy learned Chinese.

—this was a few months after I started dating Ken. Who is half Chinese.  And I have a desire to learn Chinese because some dead serial killer probably learned the fundamental basics of it?  I’m weird.

Ken says he farted while holding his crotch.  I looked at him and asked, “did you fart out of your penis?”  It’s OK, because it wasn’t stinky.  He put the ottoman on the bed because he thought he was clever.

—I don’t remember being high when I wrote this, but then I guess that’s the point.

My therapist asked me today what would make me happy and I said I wanted to be smart.  Then she asked me to define smart and I couldn’t.  Then we sat there in silence staring at one another while the silence spoke more volumes than anything I could have possibly said after that. Then I said, “sure, rub it in bitch.” 

—She really made me focus a lot on why I didn’t think I was smart and when I said I didn’t feel like other people thought of me as smart–she tried to explain that we shouldn’t care what other people think of us, only what we think of ourselves.  I was like…yeah I don’t think I’m smart–I really feel like the therapy is going in circles here lady.

Conversation with Ken

Me: I am so _ _. I don’t know what to do about it. Seriously, if I don’t _, I get _. But if I _, I get _ . I’m _ either way since they both _ and feel _. I don’t know how you still love me when I am so _ _.

Ken: Well, I do love you, but that was seriously the grossest 30 seconds of conversation I have ever heard in my entire life.

I’ve been out of town

The first 4 days of my trip were spent in Austin.  They were fun.  The last days were spent in the valley with my parents.  Not as fun.  Not counting 2 of my brothers that I saw over the weekend, the youngest person I hung out with in 9 days was 66 years old–and that was my mother.   Lots of old and sick people in the valley.  If they’re not sick now, they were sick recently–so you have to hear about it as if they were still sick now. 

It’s like there’s nothing better to do in the valley than get sick. 

Clogged arteries, diabetes, high blood pressure–that’s what’s up in the valley.

I’ve been home 3 hours and now I miss my parents, but I had to come back. I have a lot to do.  I leave for VA in 2 weeks. TWO WEEKS.  Have you started a pool for how long before I come back to Texas?  Of course you have.

Ping Pong – Pinball.

Driving home today I saw a turtle crossing the road.  By the time I’d devised a plan for how I would keep it in my car, without a box, for the next 5 hours–I returned for it to find it entirely crushed.  The 18 wheeler that passed me while I contemplated my next move — swerved onto the opposite side of the road just to run over him.  What a shame to be skilled in such precision. I told myself that I could have saved him if I moved quicker, but if I had–I probably would have been standing on the side of the road when the driver of the 18 wheeler decided to amuse himself by taking a life.  

Do you think with that loud of a truck sitting that high up, that he even heard or felt anything?

Fuck, people, what is wrong with some of you?

I wrote almost every day while I was gone. I’ll post the entries–so look for them below this post–dated accordingly–but right now, I am emotionally and physically drained!

Buenas Noches.

Went to see my uncle in the hospital again.

His blood pressure had lowered a lot during therapy so they sent him back to his room and had him on IV.

Bursting into the room the way we did tore him from his sleep and I guess waking up in a hospital room reminded him of where he was still and he just burst into tears again.

My mom and I left the room to give him and my aunt some privacy.

When we returned a little while later he was in noticeably better spirits and had already eaten his entire dinner and was starting on his fruit cup. My mom says that low blood pressure is not as dangerous as high blood pressure, but it certainly makes you feel really fucking crappy.

I don’t know anything about either high or low blood pressure, but I want my uncle to not be so discouraged, especially when the nurses keep saying that he is doing so well.

He’s going to walk–he’ll just do it as his own pace in his own time.