Thursday, August 26, 2010


Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle!  Saturday I pack up my junk (and it is junk) and move into my swanky condo. It boasts three bedrooms which means that I can have my very own crafting space. This excites me very much. Me Jane, you Reader. It's the simple things, right?

Probably what electrifies me most is the fact that I can paint, with restrictions of course as I am under a rental contract. My land lord broke out in an ice-cold sweat when I inquired about neutralizing the light yellow walls. Right now the walls say, "Hey, my name is Country Yellow, y'all! Come on down for some apple pie and some fly fishing!" I'm going more for the "Come on down, but leave your shoes at the door and your six pack in my fridge. Cash gifts don't hurt either. Rent's high." You know, that kind of color.

I wish I could remember what colors I used in this particular room because I think it's fancy.

My moma came to Lynchburg and painted these walls for me while I was away at work. I treated her to a nice dinner out that night, which she profusely thanked me for. God bless him, but my dad is not one to wine and dine his women. That was just an aside. She would be so happy to see me back in my own place again.

Why, thank you for asking!  My job is moving along quite nicely. It's almost my second week in and everyday that I walk into my office, I feel a little less like throwing up. Bleeding ulcers have subsided too. I enjoy the Human Resources aspect, but the contract writing is a little tedious and makes black smoke plume out of my ears.  Well, hello Google search, cut and paste! Right, everybody?!


Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Allll By Myselfffffffffffffff...

… don’t want to be all by myselffff, anyyyymooooooooorrrrrreeeeeeee (cue the thick Canadian accent). I am officially in my place of residence (until September 12th) and I have to say, once I put away the groceries and sat down on my polka dotted couch to hear the slight hum of the air conditioning, I think I may be slightly lonely. I have lived by myself before but this is different. Yes, there were many a nights living with dad that we would say nary a word to each other but at least he was a warm body in my general vicinity. Now he is married and I am moving on with life.

And because you asked, here is my couch...

Life had me start a brand spanking new job on Monday. Life also has me looking for a condo or house for me to get all Martha Stewart on. Oddly enough, the prison she did time in is a stones throw away from work. However, the Alderson's Women's Prison is a holy place! You hear me?!

Speaking of work, how odd is the interviewing process? Normally, it's not difficult to speak about oneself, but for several hours? I was digging stuff out of my past that quite frankly made it appear that I was showing off. Like the time my roommates and I had a dead bird in the upstairs shower (true story) and because they did not want to touch it, I took charge of the situation (also known as being a LEADER), scooped him up and threw him my roommate (also known as having a sense of HUMOR.  That's important in corporate culture you know).

I was hired the very next day. (True story)

Dad is now married. This is a great development for all involved, most of all for dad. He announced to me a few weeks ago that "this will be very last load of laundry I will ever do, Amanda Kate!" The whole part of growing old and saggy together is lost on the man. Truly, I love June and am excited that she is part of our family.

But, in thinking about this new development, if the Lord grants it, I will know June longer on this earth in that mother/wife role then I knew mom. The brevity of her influence in my life is profound and its tale is one that could bring me to my knees if I dwell on it long enough. She exists now only in my memories, in the faint glimpses of her mannerisms, voice and laugh. As clearly as I can see my fingers on this keyboard, I can still see the faintest wrinkles on her face. Yet I fear sometimes that these last links to her will fade with time, like the yellowed hue on old Polaroids. You can see the generalities in the photo, but the clarity, the acute vividness has been compromised by time.

God is good, though. He is good all the time.

Good night, All.