24 June 2009

[Imported] This and that

So I haven’t really been following along with my post-pictures-of-my-continuously-clean-room plan, have I? I don’t have any excuses for it – no good excuses, anyway – but if it's any consolation, my room is clean. Not under the bed, as was the next part of my project, but my mom decided to put the house on the market, which meant I had to switch gears and tidy up all of the actually visible areas of the house and keep them tidy, so help me God. So while I didn’t stick to my cleaning schedule, I’ve pretty much done 90% of the other places that were on the agenda at some point anyway.

Yadda yadda yadda, that was all really boring.


Good news! I’m dating! And not just in my head! There is an actual, in-the-flesh­ MAN involved! Cue that heavenly choir. We actually met back in August on that awesome roller coaster trip, and we’ve been casually flirting and honesty-box-messaging online like nauseating high school crushes ever since. Isn’t that adorable?! Don’t bother answering, because the answer is Yes. Yes, it is. Say awwww. Also, he’s super involved in the church, and do you have ANY idea how hard to find guy who is obsessively into both roller coasters and Jesus? PRETTY. DURN. HARD.

The only somewhat less-than-perfect part is that he lives in Virginia and, you know...I don’t. But it’s only a 3-hour drive, which is totally doable. He’s made the trip here once already, and I’m going up there this weekend. (Pardon me while I do a little fancy skip real quick. (la tee daaaahhh!)) And while the distance isn’t the greatest thing in the world, I like to think there’s a bit of an upside in that with our fewer in-person rendezvous, it will take him SO much longer to become completely sick of me, and would you look at me all looking at the positive side of things? It’s like I’m growing or something.

Anyway, that might be all you hear about it on here, because 1) I learned long ago that - for me - it's best not to talk about people (good or bad) who actually read my blog and 2) I find that I can only publicly gush my girly giggles so much before I start wanting to throw kittens or don some brass knuckles or something – anything to offset the acknowledgment of my mushy, feminine, saccharin side. Which I don’t actually have. Nope. Not at all. I don’t do that girly stuff.


(Giggle giggle)



Last night, I went from watching The Fifth Element to immediately watching a concert of Andre Rieu on PBS afterward, and I don’t think there is a more poignant juxtaposition of genres in the world that sums me up so well (did that sentence make sense? I don’t know if you've noticed, but sometimes I just throw words out there and hope they fall in at least a partially-meaningful order). Anyway, I luuuuv me some Andre Rieu, who makes wild musical leaps from the “Hallelujah Chorus” to the Sister Act version of “I Will Follow Him,” dresses all his female performers in the most beautiful pastel dresses (any of which I would kill to have and prance around in), and ends his concerts with thousands of balloons falling from the ceiling while the entire audience is running and dancing around like third graders hopped up on kool-aid and birthday cake. I’ve never been a huge concert-goer, but this is definitely one I would love to see live. I looked him up on ticketmaster, and the closest he’ll be to me is either in Baltimore or somewhere in Pennsylvania, which I figured would make the perfect addition to a HersheyPark and Knoebels trip. And I’d buy tickets THIS MINUTE, but in doing a quick mental budget for the year, I don’t know if I’ll have enough money for ALL THAT FUN by May, especially with the installments I have to pay for my California trip in August. Luckily, May is still a few months away, so there’s still some time for money to magically appear in my bank account.


Oh, and also, I do have a job now. So, you know...money. That's really all I have to say about the subject for the time being.


Today, while at school, I tweeted (twittered? Tweetered? What?) this about needing real pizza soon or Armageddon was sure to happen. Approximately an hour later, I arrived home only to find a little door hanger coupon from Papa John’s! Holy granny panty! Granted, I don’t think one could consider Papa John’s as being “real” pizza, but it’s still closer to the real thing than my usual frozen French bread pizzas. I was going to post a picture of the coupon just because I’m a visual person, and I tend to assume my reader(s?) are exactly like me, but then my mom threw it away. Hmph. She doesn’t care for the ol’ PJ, I guess. Anyway, I wasn’t too heartbroken about it, because while my deep, heart-wrenching URGE for pizza is still stirring tumultuously within me, I took the coupon as a sign from God letting me know that He was thinking about me, and with Him I can weather the length of any non-pizza storm I go through. Though if I don’t get a slice by tomorrow night, I may use those brass knuckles after all.

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