Coming Home

Poncho is coming home today. We parted on September 30th, when I left for Oklahoma, and then he left to go on tour on October 3rd. He's coming home from that tour today. That was the longest 47 days ever. I mean, I am still capable of having fun without him, but give me a break, I like the guy.

His flight touches down in seven hours!

Doing Bad Things

I have returned from the great state of Oklahoma. And, yes, I actually do mean "great." It was surprisingly lovely and green, and the Sonics out there served wads of fried cheddar cheese.

Also, a Peanut was born!

I arrived back in California in a good mood, though I have found myself unable to hang on to that mood and am now officially in full grump-mode.

Coming home to an empty house is even less pleasant than I anticipated. After being with someone for over eight years you kind of get used to having them around, but Poncho is on tour for five more weeks. Ugh. I'm trying to convince myself that it's fun to have so much alone time to just indulge in my favorite things and sleep diagonally across the bed, but so far it's just not that great.

Also, the cable company was supposed to fix the window while I was gone, but they totally did not. And our last apartment sent us our move-out paperwork without our deposit, which means I'm going to have to spend a better part of my afternoon calling and yelling at people for being bumholes.

And now my personal favorite: I got the bill(s) for my sprained ankle. Sprained. Not mangled by a riding mower and surgically rebuilt, just sprained. I got one bill for $12, another for $200, and yet another for $1400. That's like $1600 for them to give me and X-ray and a pair of crutches and sending me off.

So that's been my life in the two days since returning to California: loneliness, dealing with jerkfaces, and being financially sodomized by the healers of America.


And I caught up on Desperate Housewives. This season is pretty good so far. I've always liked Julie. I'm holding out hope that the attacker is Zach and not Nick. I would so be down for that.

The Curse

Poncho and I are cursed.

We moved out of our apartment and into his grandparents' very nice house. They were moved to an assisted living home near Poncho's mom and aunt, so we're house sitting for them. Lovely home, nice pool, great kitchen, no rent. Fabulous.

Poncho and I are going on trips. I'm leaving the day after tomorrow to visit L in Oklahoma, in celebration of the impending birth of her first child. Poncho's going to roadie for one of those pop star chicks, which he is very excited about.

It's all very splendid. Unfortunately it would seem that we flew too high and must pay for our good fortune.

Here is what happened since we started moving:

1. Poncho hurt his neck somehow. Being on Vicodin and Soma made moving a super fun.
2. When the cable company said "Yeah, the house is cable ready" they apparently meant "Yeah, we have no idea what we're talking about." Took a week to get Internet. This made filling Etsy orders difficult. Seeing Poncho go through withdrawals was interesting at least.
   
   
   
   
   

   

   "What do you mean you have to dig a trench from the street??"
   
3. We finally got Internet today. The cable guy was super nice and helpful. He also broke a window. Not a plain glass window, no, a like cut crystal weird fancy window. I don't even know how to get something like that replaced.
4. I sprained my ankle. We live a block from a grocery store now so I thought Lovely, we can just walk there. Unfortunately, this whole "walking" thing turned out to be more difficult than I had anticipated.

That's it. Instead of wondering what's going to come next, we decided that the curse ended when the Internet was turned on (yes, that is a joyous enough event to signal the end of a curse). As if moving to a new city the week before leaving on long trips wasn't enough of a pain on its own. We decided that there is no way we deserve any further punishment. Tomorrow will be our last day together for two months and then we're both off to have a great time.

Go Time?

Poncho spent the weekend in Las Vegas with the rest of his wolf pack, and I couldn't help but picture the above scene the entire time he was gone.

In any case, he's been too excited about Sausage Fest '09 to do anything useful for two weeks, and, we'll he's "back," but he's not really going to be back back until at least a few more hours of sleep.

I've been patient while he squee'd like a girl (only on the inside, of course) over his guy trip, but tomorrow I strike.

Kikkoman inspires me. Don't judge.

This Week's To-Do List:

1. Firstly (that's why it's number one on the list, duh), I need to buy my plane ticket to visit my lifelong friend L in time for The Birth of Peanut. I was going to do that today, but apparently Poncho aspires to go on tour with some Pop Princess (who I don't think I'm at liberty to name) at the same time as Peanut Time, so now I have to wait. No point rushing home to see him if he's touring some... other place.
2. We also need todecide where to live next this week. We have a lot of options. Most of the ones we're looking at currently kind of suck.
3. We are going to get passports. I demand it. How can we even consider leaving the country if we do not have passports? It's just silly. Poncho's "thing" lately is that he refuses to make any solid plans just in case he gets a job. Hopefully if I can get him to get a passport he'll be a little more enthusiastic about play time.
   
4. Enter tentative travel dates onto the calendar. This includes camping, San Francisco, and Plum & Poncho's Excellent Adventure. None of these are optional.

I think those are reasonable to-dos. Notice laundry is not on that list. Screw laundry.