After learning about how California became the first to ban trans fats…
Me: But that’s weird. Isn’t Crisco a trans fat? I think I remember seeing it at the store with the “0g Trans Fat” label on it.
B: I think trans fat is the product of the cooking process. Now, what you get after frying chicken in Crisco, I’m not sure.
Me: You get some gooooooooood chicken!
Saturday morning, after spending a night of drifting in and out of sleep, I had this dream. In the dream, I was at work, trying my hardest not to cry from the pain of a broken heart when a delivery guy brings in this box, opens it, and begins to unload what appears to be a garden of flowers. For me. I began to cry. I woke up then and discovered I had been crying in my sleep.
One of the most difficult things in life is to admit you’re in a relationship that has no future, even though your heart was hoping it did. You could have unbelievable amounts of love and respect for that person, but it’s still not enough.
There’s never a good time to break up, but when it has to be done, it has to be done. I was going back and forth about this for a few days. Although I didn’t wake up that morning knowing I was going to end the one constant in my life the last 6 years, I knew that if I didn’t do it now it would be another day, month, or year lost.
Saturday night was the first night I spent technically “alone.” It took a huge amount of strength, strength I had no idea I even had, to keep myself from calling him.
Instead I found myself calling a network of friends I normally don’t call at 10 or 11pm at night. And what I discovered by the end of the evening was I have a lot of support from old friends coming out of the woodwork. I had been worried I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, but after imbibing a relaxing drink, I slept a solid 7 hours.
I spent Sunday in retail therapy (though not too much because I still have my budget). And I finally got around to unpacking and assembling my craft stuff. Even Sunday evening wasn’t all that bad.
Monday morning, however, I had a moment of weakness, which every woman is allowed to have after ending a relationship only half-heartedly, and texted him. I wanted more reason, more fuel for the fire, to convince myself that this breakup was the right thing to do. And there were no encouraging or supportive words that anyone could’ve uttered to me to convince me otherwise. I wanted to hear it from him so that whatever hope I had left in my heart would finally be obliterated.
And although he didn’t tell me what I asked him to tell me, what he did tell me made me feel more… reassured about the breakup. And I greatly respect him for that. It put my doubts to rest and made me see this as an opportunity to not only learn about myself but work on things about me that I’ve been wanting to fix.
So now it’s Tuesday. I’ve graduated from absolute hell to a milder version of it. I haven’t cried since Saturday morning which is nice because it gives my squinty eyes the chance to dry. I can actually keep food in my stomach, what little I do eat (though perhaps this will kick start my diet). And the pain in my chest has subsided. What’s left now is an emptiness… not a bad emptiness (not yet) but a zen-like emptiness that is waiting to be filled. By what? I’m hoping to figure that out.
I’ve been feeling extra blue the past couple days so I bought a bouquet of flowers today. Adds a nice touch to my computer desk.
Things lately have been… average. Sometimes I feel like I’m coasting through life these days, doing the absolute minimum to remain functioning: sleep, eat breakfast, go to work, come home, eat dinner, sleep… and then the cycle starts all over again day in and day out. I’ve even tacked up a calendar at my desk, marking off each day as it passes so I can see when the end of the month is approaching. I’m not sure why. Maybe I think if I see the end of the month getting near, I’ll do something momentous to mark the occasion… like taking a different route home. Ooh, life on the edge. I know.
Something has to change I guess.
The Boss: Man, we go through the Diet cokes like crazy. [Takes Diet Coke from fridge and starts walking away.]
V: Yeah, but I’m totally going to stop now because once it gets into your body, it turns into formaldehyde.
The Boss: Is that true?
V: Yep.
The Boss: [Walks back to fridge and returns Diet Coke.]
I’ll be heading down to Houston this weekend to visit Jabari so Izzie will be staying with my coworker, his wife, and they’re 3 unbelievably awesome dogs (a border collie, westie, and blue tick coon hound). I brought her over to their house this evening and at first she didn’t know what to do with so many unfamiliar dogs in an unfamiliar place, but after being there for a couple hours, everyone sniffed everything they needed to and were now settling down.
The really funny thing is I think Izzie now has a new boyfriend. Tuffy, the westie, was so smitten with her. He kept following her EVERYWHERE. Occasionally he would bark at her and want to play. She hadn’t warmed up to him just yet, often avoiding his advances. But I figure by the end of the weekend, she would be in love too.
Anyway, this is a picture of portable Izzie (aka Farley) who I’ll be taking with me. Since coming home to an empty apartment this evening, I’ve been feeling so lonely, I’ve kept Farley nearby to help make the sadness of Izzie’s absence a bit easier to bear. He reminds me of her 
After the whole washing machine debacle last week (which got fixed btw, finally), I’ve been hesitant to start unpacking. However, after realizing I couldn’t logically live out of cardboard boxes the rest of my stay here, I figured I should get on with it.
I’ve unpacked several boxes, the remainder of which is only craft stuff. I plan on putting that stuff together last, starting with my desks at least. I’ve already put up a couple curtains. Now I just have two more left to hang.
Putting everything back together slowly but surely. Piece by piece.
Hope everyone had a safe 4th of July holiday.
I didn’t think I would even have a Hate List for this new apartment, but I think there’s already something I can add to it: the washing machine is broken. How do I know? Why, it not only flooded my apartment, but it ruined the downstairs neighbors celing!
Yes, so Izzie’s bedding was in need of a washing. I dropped it in, added detergent, closed it and went off to continue unpacking.
The next minute, I turn around and see that the carpet is DRENCHED about 10" into the dining area. I opened the washing machine and it’s full to the brim with water and STILL RUNNING. So I fumble around with the water valve behind the washing machine and get it turned off. I was freaking out. My heart was just pounding in my chest. I opened the door to check on the neighbors and just as I did, I saw him at the base of my stairs. "Do you have a leak in your apartment?"
"Oh my god, yes. Is it in your apartment?"
"Yeah, it’s coming out of the vent," he said.
OH NO.
He asked if I had a bucket. I did so I grabbed it and brought it downstairs to them. Luckily I had borrowed my mom’s carpet steamer so I ran to get that from my car to vacuum up as much water as I could. The water filled up probably about a gallon and a half, maybe two. Who knows what the unseen damage is.
A few minutes later a maintenance guy knocked on my door. "Do you have a leak in your apartment?"
"YES, it’s the washer," I said and let him in. I said I already turned off the main water line so it’s stopped. I asked if he saw the downstairs apartment.
"Yeah, they have a crack in this area of their ceiling," he said, gesturing to the kitchen area which was adjacent to the dining area and laundry closet. My stomach lurched. Yes, it sounds like there’s probably a lot of water damage.
The maintenance guy said to call in the morning and ask the office to put in a work order so they’ll either fix it or replace it. Sigh. No, that’s not a sigh of relief, that’s a sigh of, "Oh geez, please tell me this is a dream… Please tell me this is a dream… Please tell me this is a dream…"
So I’ve called in the work order. They’re going to take a look at it as well as the apartment downstairs. I feel really terrible. I know it’s not my fault, it’s their machine, etc. etc. but still. I wish this had only inconvenienced me and not my neighbors.
kristine (kris • teen) n. 1. A female, age 28, living in Dallas, TX. 2. A web monkey by profession. 3. A wanna-be chef, photographer, crafter and cropper.
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