written for the boy who would never fall in love with me

written in approximately 2000 - unedited

Sitting there was like becoming a statue. I had been warm and I had been leaning into him, feeling our bodies mold against one another. Suddenly I became intensely aware that my entire body was cold. I could feel the warm air, just portions of inches away from my skin, but not able to touch me. My limbs, my head, my eyes were all positioned so definitely and purposefully. I was no longer laying with him, I was as though placed upon him. The cold was intense, but I did not shiver, for it was simply an adjective and not an effect. There was understanding and yet no feeling save his hands. Two hands palm down, laying next to each other, perfectly rounded over my right leg, touching the skin, making me feel as though that were the only part of my body that were alive. And I could feel his eyes drift toward me and stay there. I fixated on the gold of the couch, the blue skirt of the chair. The lights became so obviously bright. There were so many lights on, and yet no-one else was awake, there was no reason for such illumination. Perhaps it came from the conversation, exposing too much. A little too unkind and yet so unintentional, like the light. He was watching me and all I could do was think about furniture. He was telling me his feelings, asking me to feel and all I could do was squint at the choice of lighting. I can not remember breathing. I can picture each fold on the arm of the couch, the stain that runs down into the cushions, the buttons of which some are exposed and some are shockingly hidden... and yet I can not remember how I breathed, or whether I breathed at all. And then it was over. Jarringly so. It was the end and I was leaving and there was no more talking and I was out the door, with my purse, my shoes, my book, my face. And I had watched him while he talked, but I did not look at him so well as I left. For then it was over. It had all played around me, as it always does and then it ends without offering any apologies. And the cold air outside bit my skin and I didn't shake. Not as I walked away with my back towards his eyes. Not when the lights of the apartment shut off as I walked past. Not when I could see him in his bedroom window which I did not look up to. No, not until I was in the car and the door was shut, and the windows, all fogged over, hid me from any possibility of being seen, and then my body was racked with convulsions. I could not stop shaking and my breath was ragged. How strange to want to be a part of someone so much and still show them nothing. Perhaps this time will be different. It is never different. I am not the first, and I will never be the last, either. I am a point in time, an aspect of life, a phase needed to be gone through. But it's still over. The whole world has ended one more time.

The A B C's of Cassia's Trip to Tucson

An oldie, but a goodie!

A is for Ashland, where we stopped to find out what was wrong with the car. First the guy thought it was the Alternator

B is for Bearings, which was the mechanic's second guess at what was causing the Burning smell

C is for Compressor, because that's what the problem really was. We opted not to fix it and Continued on

D is for Dinner, for my dad and I had a Delicious Dinner in Springfield at my grandmother's house. D is also for Deflated tire, which occurred the next morning when my dad tried to get other people to look at the car (they wouldn't)

E is for Employees on strike. As we neared St. Louis, we thought we could stop somewhere there. Calling around unearthed that every single Volkswagen mechanic was on strike due to a labor dispute

F is for Furious, which is how I felt as I spoke with members of my sorority and discovered that they had ignored several of my explicit instructions, one of which was to not use Freeze Frame for the composite photograph

G is for the Gas Station where my car Gave up. We stopped to Grab some food and water... Guess what? Car wouldn't re-start

H is for the Hour we had to backtrack to go to the one dealership where there was one mechanic that knew Volkswagens

I is for the Isuzu-Nissan dealer where we spent the next hour waiting for...

J Jim Palmer, the mechanic who said, "yes, there is something wrong with your car, and we don't have time to fix it today or tomorrow, but we can order the part and have it here before noon tomorrow if you want someone else to put it in". J is also for Joe Tacco, who was a salesman at the dealership, and overheard this craziness. He didn't think the answer we had been given was good enough, so he went upstairs and complained to the manager. The manager called down to the mechanic and told them to fit us in the next day

K is for Kara who called to tell me she was looking at a job at an engagement ring store

L is for Left side, as in, the only part of my body that got a VERY bad sunburn due to poor planning and driving in one direction

M is for Margaritas that my dad and I drank in St. Louis while lamenting the Mess of my car. M is also for the EXCELLENT Mexican food we ate there

N is for New Mexico, which is where I saw Dr. Seuss trees. Seriously, I think I discovered the inspiration for those crazy trees he drew

O is for Oklahoma, where my dad left the gas tank cap

P is for Procrastination, which is what I did about buying and sending Postcards... there is a reason the pool won't be seeing any from me this year

Q is for Quantitate. As in, you cannot Quantitate the miles driven on this trip because the odomoter and trip meter are both broken

R is for Route 66, because that's the song that was in my head the ENTIRE time. Cities in the song that I actually saw? St. Louis, Joplin, Oklahoma City, Amarillo, Gallup, Tucumcari

S is for Santa Rosa, where we ran into two Delts whose car (from Illinois) had broken down, and where they would be Stuck for the next three days

T is for Toe ring, because I got a really pretty one on the trip. T is also for Tatsu, a restaurant in Las Cruces where my dad and I really wanted to eat, but weren't able to, due to the abridged itinerary

U is for the Upside of all this... oh, no wait. There wasn't one

V is for Volkswagen. I love my car. Really, I do. But I'm never buying another Volkswagen in my life

W is for Water. My dad and I each consumed an average of three Dasani Waters per day. It's really very addicting

X is for X-PENSIVE (I had to take a little liberty here) because my car has cost me, in repairs, something like three times what I originally paid

Y is for Yawn. It's really all I did the whole time

Z is for Zero. Which is the amount of swimsuits that I bought while en route to Tucson!!! (aren't you proud?) (oh, for those of you who wanted me to count my swimsuits... the official count for Cleve and Tucson stands at 39)

All my friends... drive lowriders...

In case you haven't figured it out by now, the reason this blog is titled "My So-Called Life" is largely because my life seems surreal to me. Things happen that I just have to say, "yep. That's just the way my life goes".

Buying a car.

Since owning a car was completely unnecessary in Chicago, I haven't owned a vehicle since 2003. St. Petersburg is not nearly as transportationally blessed, so a car was mandatory. For the initial needs, I rented a car from Enterprise. I drove a white Saturn Ion for about three days before the driver's side window slipped off track. Nothing too major, I was able to move it so that the window stayed closed. Not exactly ideal, but doable. Too bad that when the window slipped out of place it happened to bump/jostle/break the door locking mechanism... in the locked position. The first time I got out of the car by sliding across the front seat and exiting from the passenger's side was mildly amusing. It got old quickly and Enterprise managed to swap it out for a Ford Taurus the next day. (Bo-ring)

Anywho - buying a car. The original contenders were Toyota RAV4, Ford Escape and the Honda CRV. For all the things that my father preaches about cars, there are a few things that I've found he's very right about. One of those things is driving standard transmission. However, since I was looking at used cars, finding cars with manual transmission is rather difficult. They exist, but are few and far between, particularly with the RAV4. (side note, this year Toyota ceased to offer manual transmission on that particular model.) The Honda CRV is apparently so pleasing that no-one wants to give them up, and there just aren't that many used CRVs available. Although the RAV4 was my first choice, it just wasn't panning out, and having my own car was more financially sound than renting for an extended period of time. The last car I owned was a Ford Explorer Sport (loved it!), so the Escape seemed an obvious choice.

Deciding on the Escape, I found a Blue, manual transmission with low miles and a good price. In Hudson, Florida. (Hudson is just over an hour from St. Pete, on a good traffic day) The roomie was excited for me, and feeling generous, so she accompanied (and drove) me to the bank for a loan, and the dealership for a test drive. The car had horrible white and gray swirl detail on the sides, but the dealer (Craig), immediately assured me it could be removed at no cost or damage to the vehicle. Kitty and I hopped in and drove off. Expecting to fall desperately in love with this car immediately, I was surprised to find my mouth forming a pout. Everything was just so... boring. The interior, the ride, the transmission... just boring. Also, I found myself slowing down immensely on each turn because I felt like it was going to tip over. And worst of all? The RPM and MPH dials were flipped. It was entirely disconcerting.

Still in denial that this wouldn't become my car, Kitty and I sat down with Craig and she started bargaining. The price had already come down a good amount, and I requested a sidebar with Kitty. I couldn't do it. I just didn't love it. And as all my friends know, I always have very strong feelings towards inanimate objects, so to get a car I didn't love would have been... well, it might have led to a serious emotional breakdown at a later date. So when Craig returned I told him it was a no-go, and then we discussed the other makes and models I was hoping for - did he perhaps have any, could he get any, etc. In the course of the conversation, he mentioned that he had a manual transmission Saturn VUE on the lot, with lower mileage and a lower sticker price. Since we were an hour away, and I was beginning to feel very guilty about Kitty driving me here and then NOT ending up with a car, we decided to test drive the VUE.

The VUE ends up being a dark Storm Gray. I had already decided that I was not getting a dark colored car in Florida - who needs extra reason for the car to heat up?? Got in and immediately preferred the arrangement of dials and instruments. Save one - the previous owner had gotten a custom gear shift that was not only completely innappropriate with the car, but hideous to look at, and metal. Did they want to burn their hand every time they got back in the car? We drove almost the exact same route as we had with the Escape, but the Saturn was much more responsive, and felt much more solid on the road. I began to get a little crush on it. Knowing my tendency to purchase on impulse, I decided that I would not, could not, think about buying the VUE without additional research.

Research indicated that Consumer Reports would not recommend a used VUE, but everyone who I knew that drove one was completely obsessed with their own car. Talked with the bank about the loan, talked with Craig about lowering the price. Finally we agreed on a price, including a replaced back bumper and a new gear shift knob. Then came the bank. They couldn't finalize the loan without proof of insurance.

Think about that for a second.

I didn't own a car, so I didn't have car insurance. Simple. I wasn't going to buy car insurance on a car that I didn't own. Simple. Yes, I would have insurance before I drove off the lot, but I can't drive off the lot until I have the loan to pay for the car. But I can't have the loan until I have insurance?

The bank does not see the inherent problems with this.

Finally, I decided the best plan of attack would be to do everything on the same day. Get insurance, have them send email confirmation, print out confirmation and take to the bank, get the loan finalized, head directly to the dealership for the car.

If only it were that easy.

Kitty's schedule is tricky, and the best we could do was now this -

Insurance, bank, I drive rental car out to Hudson, pick up VUE, return to St. Pete, when Kitty returns from work we drive up to Hudson together and pick up the rental car and come back. Sounds ridiculous, right? Well, yes.

So instead, contacted Enterprise and found I could drop off the rental in Hudson, about 5 miles from the dealership. Decided I would do that, then either have Enterprise drive me to the dealership, or have Craig pick me up from Enterprise. Better plan!

Saturday morning, woke up, got insurance, received and printed out the email. Went to the bank and finalized the loan. Then I called the Hudson Enterprise to confirm, and ask for a drop-off. Hudson Enterprise was closed. Uh-oh. Called the St. Pete Enterprise. Closed. Hmm. Called Kitty. Her plans had changed, and she wouldn't be able to make the two hour trip if I left the rental up in Hudson. Called my personal Enterprise contact and said, "help". The decision was made to simply leave the rental at the Hudson location, and leave messages on both the Hudson and St. Pete answering machines. Lock the keys in the center console and leave a copy of the rental agreement in the glove compartment. Okay - crisis averted!

Or not. Called the Hudson location. Their answering service was already full, and wouldn't accept any more messages. Called the St. Pete location. Their answering service was just completely fubar, and kept asking me to enter my passcode. Left the car in front of the Hudson location anyway, Craig picked me up and took me to the dealership. We signed everything, he handed me the keys, I got in the car. It kind of smelled like wet dog. Kitty had mentioned that during the test drive, but I honestly hadn't noticed. Decided I would deal with it, no problem. The back bumper was fixed, and the gear shift knob was replaced.

Drove off the lot. Popped in Kelly Clarkson and turned up the volume. Adjusted the bass and treble. Hmm. Apparently the previous owner had blown the speakers. Sweet. Okay, okay. Minor detail. Turned from 52 onto 19. The second light on 19, shifting into second gear - and the gear shift knob just slides right off. WHAT??? This happens once more on the way home, although most of the time I remember to push down on the knob so that it doesn't go flying off again.

Decide I will call Craig later, and buy an air freshener now.

Monday morning I get up early to call the St. Pete Enterprise as soon as they open. They inform me that they will be billing me for the pop-a-lock service (since the keys were locked in the car). I tell them that I'm going to argue about that, but the point is moot until we know how much the service will cost. Enterprise Man says he will call me with the additional information after speaking with the Hudson location. I turn off the phone while I'm at work. At lunchtime there is a voicemail message from Enterprise Man saying that he has spoken with the Hudson location, and several locations in that area, and no-one has the car I dropped off. Is it possible I left it at the dealership where I purchased the car?

Yes. I'm so stupid, I completely forgot that little thing at the dealership. Whoops!

No. I call St. Pete Enterprise and speak with Enterprise Woman, who checks the notes, calls the Hudson location and confirms that they never found the Ford Taurus. She offers me the Hudson location phone number. I call. The first person I speak with knows exactly what car I'm talking about, confirms that they already had the keys removed, in fact - he's already rented the car out again. He mentions that he's glad the St. Pete office called earlier in the morning so they knew what the story was with that one.

Call St. Pete Enterprise and speak with Enterprise Man from the morning. Explain the previous discussions. He's blown away. He needs to confirm with Hudson Enterprise. He'll call if there's anything else I need to know.

And I haven't heard from them since.

Get a job... and some sha na nas

I’d like to share the story of how an enterprising and appealing, spirited and spontaneous – why, downright plucky, young woman woke up one day, moved to Florida on a whim and landed a fabulous job within days. However, I’ve never met that woman, and I feel it would be inappropriate for me to tell her story without her permission. Instead, let’s learn how I managed to find employment in Tropicana-land.

The decision to move to Florida was a long time coming. The turning point was a trip to St. Petersburg in the first week of May. The final decision was made sometime in June, I suppose. Early July saw another trip to St. Petersburg for a few interviews. My personal favorite was a law office who needed a paralegal. They were willing to train – which would be ideal, since I have zero law experience. (I’ve decided that the two college courses in criminal justice sound good, but don’t actually count.) The interview went well, with the HR Director seeming quite impressed with me. I had to double check to make sure I hadn’t sent my roommate’s resume by mistake. (Don’t laugh, I did do it once.) In the end, the firm decided to promote someone from within to the paralegal position. BUT! There was a legal secretary opening, and was I interested? My traveling plans sped up by about two weeks, and I was feeling good.

** traveled across country – see previous entries **

I arrived in St. Petersburg on a Friday night. Monday was my interview. It went very well and I had high hopes. However, the HR Director was careful to warn me that they might go with someone who had law office experience. This wouldn’t be at all unusual in the legal world, but since the firm had seemed willing to train a paralegal, I felt confident that the deciding factor wouldn’t be my previous experience (or lack thereof). Wednesday, the call came. They went with another candidate who had law office experience. However, there was now a paralegal position open, and was I interested? At the risk of seeming desperate, I jumped at the chance. (I wasn’t desperate for any job, but I was beginning to get irrationally attached to this particular firm.) Thursday’s interview was the least comfortable of the three. It also felt less like an interview and more like a warning about the workload and personalities of the lawyers that I would be working with. On Friday I got the job.

Yes, let’s recap.
Paralegal position – went to someone internally, who already knew the systems, etc.
Legal secretary position – went to someone with previous law office experience
Paralegal position for the lawyers with the two largest (and thus, as a team, the largest) caseloads in the entire firm and zero interest in personally training any candidate – went to me, whose legal experience is… well… zilch

Don’t get me wrong, I’m THRILLED about my job. But what were they thinking?

The eagle has landed - Chicago to Florida, Day Six

Day Six (Friday, August 4, 2006) found me very sleepy and unwilling to get out of bed. However, I had already scheduled movers to meet me at storage in St. Pete, so there was actually a deadline for my arrival. Believe it or not, I left the Red Roof Inn without getting in the pool. The previous evening I was just too tired, and in the morning I was too lazy to go swimming and then shower again. Loaded up the truck, checked out, filled up on gas (and picked up orange juice and a pop tart for breakfast) and got ready for the day. Opened the orange juice and promptly spilled all over myself, drivers seat and drivers side door. And the truck wasn’t even moving.

Traffic was heavier this last stretch, but the billboards were more entertaining. While I managed to get a picture of a store sign advertising “Guns and Jewelry”, I wasn’t quick enough to take a picture of the most stunning billboard. On the right side of black background there was a white silhouette of the state of Florida layered onto the red silhouette of a handgun. Across the top, left and center, was the word WARNING in white, split horizontally – perhaps to imply a bullet going through it? Directly underneath in smaller white letters were the words “to visitors”. Below that, in red, “Florida residents use deadly force”. And that was it. !!!

I did hit a traffic jam with stop and go traffic while still on a six lane freeway (three lanes each direction - I’m never sure how to accurately describe that – whether it should be three lane or six lane). For a long time I was fearing a horrific accident, but in the end, what actually caused the slowdown was entirely unclear. There were several trucks pulled onto the right shoulder, but none seemed to have been damaged. There was a mess of what may have been dropped cargo, but the mess seemed to be completely on the shoulder, as opposed to having been removed from the center of the road. Either way this slowed me down, as did missing an exit for 301. Luckily, time isn’t generally a stress factor for me, so neither of these delays bothered me much. They did, however, rearrange my arrival schedule. Instead of dropping Mister off at Kitty’s house (my temporary abode) and then heading to storage, I went directly to Public Storage.

The movers were already there, ten minutes early. That was a pleasant surprise.

Went into the office to fill out paperwork and learn the exact location of my storage space. Convinced the PS employee to let me bring Mister (in his carrier) into the air conditioned office instead of having him bake in the truck. Received storage space that is easily twice as large was what I need, but the only available size that would work. Movers offered to unload the truck while I was filling out paperwork (nope, hadn’t done it yet). Since I knew there were things that I’d want to go to Kitty’s, but weren’t exactly organized, the movers said they would stack everything around the sides of the unit so I could get to everything. Forty minutes later the movers were done, the paperwork was NOT done, and Mister was getting antsy. Paid the movers, and tipped them (which, in retrospect was completely unnecessary for several reasons). Another twenty minutes later the paperwork was finally done. Went back to the unit and found that the movers hadn’t exactly done what they said. For instance front and dead center was the sofa. Things were not piled around the perimeter, they were simply piled in front to back. I then began moving things and working my way through an obstacle course (sofa arm, balance on this box, teeter on triangle end-table, jump over pile of sheets – pile of sheets? I KNOW those were originally in a bag). And the back wall of the storage unit wasn’t even packed tightly – it was bare. The dining room tables had all been stacked separately (as opposed to one on top of another, which is how they had been packed into the truck). There was a single stuffed animal on the floor of the unit… argh.

Finally got everything I could think of and headed to Kitty’s place. Unloaded Mister, then sat on the front porch for an afternoon thunderstorm – gorgeous. Took everything out of the truck and filled Kitty’s front bedroom with just enough room remaining for the air mattress. Showered, found a grocery store to buy orange juice and Gatorade, watched television for about an hour and collapsed in bed. I’m here – but do I know it yet ?

1551 miles - holy crap.

Almost Paradise - Chicago to Florida, Day Five

I apologize for the title. I couldn't come up with any a song that actually refers to Florida. However, I'm quite certain that I will come up with five tomorrow.

Got a bit of a late start this morning, leaving Statesville around 11am. In less than two hours, I had to pull over because Mister was having a massive panic attack. Cat food and water all over the boom box (gotta have CDs on the road), the bag of CDs, the tissue box, the cab of the truck and, of course, me. This was followed with a scattering of litter from the litter box. There is litter stuck on the passenger side door, the passenger dashboard, all over the cab and passenger seat... and even in my hair. This time around, he decided he wasn't going to give up. He began howling and scratching the front door of his carrier (wire grid). However, to get to the front door, he had to walk through water, litter and food. So his paws (and tail) became covered with damp food-smelling litter. He wouldn't quit, and almost succeeded in tipping over the carrier with his pawing. After over a half hour, we had to pull off the road. In the Wendy's parking lot I pulled him out of the carrier (still in the cab of the truck) in a towel, in an attempt not to cover myself in damp litter. Sat with him a while, he calmed down a bit. Let him walk around the cab of the truck while I took apart his carrier and cleaned it out (there goes that towel). Replaced the pillowcase (he's supposed to lay on that, but doesn't) and the litter box (which is where he actually curls up). Put Mister back into the carrier, where he was a perfect angel the rest of the day.

However, this particular Wendy's was... just sad. It smelled awful, two of the three women's toilets were "broken", and everyone working (and most of the customers) had abominable attitudes. One customer (a round white woman) started complaining about the sizes of Frosties that she had received, saying her son had certainly not ordered two large Frosties. He ordered one large and two smalls. The cashier insisted that the boy had ordered two large Frosties. The customer screamed across the restaurant for her son to come over and tell the cashier (and, now, manager) what he had ordered. However, the son was embarassed, and shy and beginning to doubt himself. He couldn't look at anyone and he really couldn't remember what he had said in the first place. Well, that didn't make his mom any less upset (let alone apologetic). No, she continued to scream that she now wanted two small Frosties (in addition to the junior size Frosty someone had already consumed). Strangely, the manager didn't want to make the change (a change of what - like 60 cents? And sidenote - who complains for getting more than they ordered?). So this goes on and on, the woman screaming that it wasn't what she asked for (duh, she didn't even order it), and the cashier saying she could make a new transaction, or swap out the drinks, but couldn't give her the refund (that wasn't even a dollar!). Finally, another woman, who had been waiting to order while this debacle ensued, offered to buy one of the large Frosties in an effort to end the drama. The angry customer acted as though she'd been touched by God and the manager was simply a handmaiden of the devil. Ridiculous.

Fun description - the helpful customer was totally Geena Davis-esque. Pale skin, red lips, tall, slim but with wide, regal shoulders. She was wearing red shorts, a light blue and white gingham 3/4 length button down shirt, sandals and a straw hat with a wide, floppy brim which she tucked her dark hair under.

The rest of the trip was fairly uneventful. We're in Jacksonville, Florida. I'm spending the evening in a Red Roof, where Mister is completely legal. It's the strangest thing ever - this place is nicer than most of the hotels I've been in... in the past few years (resorts excluded). It's been recently redecorated (yesterday, maybe?) and is garish in its attempt at modern coolness. But I'm obsessed. I love it. Ordered delivery from Wok-N-Roll. Mistake. Chicken with cashews - awful. I ended up eating each ingredient separately, and they all tasted exactly the same. Carrots, celery, chicken, cashews, water chesnuts, baby corn... hey - those are all C words. I wonder if they planned that. The rice was yellow and pathetic. Crab rangoon was horrible. The outside was not crispy, more chewy. Kind of like the consistency of beef jerky, where you almost can't even tear a piece off. There was also an egg roll that came with. Blech. Apparently this place is a chain. Don't do it. Just don't do it.

And now I will retire to bed. In theory, tomorrow should only be about 4 hours of driving - then there will be unloading of the truck into storage, which will be fairly miserable. (sigh) BUT I'll be there!!! I'll be in St. Petersburg!!!

Heads Carolina, Tails California - Chicago to Florida, Days Three and Four

Technically, Day Three doesn't really count, because I spent it in Cleveland, not actually progressing with the trip.

Day Three was 11 hours of sleep (finally) and another fabulous shower. Lunch at Tommy's (ham and swiss w/lettuce and tomato on pita bread) with Parker, followed by yummy ice cream. (We also gave ice cream to the cop) Visited PetLand and cooed over all the puppies, particularly a Pomeranian who was quite smitten with me as well. (Still don't approve of the puppies being at PetLand, or the "monthly payment plan" on dogs, but the dogs can't help it!!!) My parents and I attempted to go to a movie (Devil Wears Prada), but most of the Shaker Square power grid went out - yep, all those midwestern and eastern states that are sweating miserably right now? Includes Ohio, and Cleveland and lots of people using record amounts of electricity. No movie. Instead - Indian food at Cafe Tandoor!! (Shrimp in a garlic, tomato, lemon and coconut curry) Post-dinner was intended for planning my trip. My lovely parents did all the work. I worked on a crossword puzzle that I couldn't finish and laundry that wouldn't dry.

Day Four started a little later than expected, after a hearty breakfast of leftover curry and Strawberry Parfait Pie. Cleveland to West Virginia... now, I'm not saying everyone in West Virginia is a redneck... but, during a stop for gas, I passed an ancient station wagon. Faux wood panelling on the sides, and almost as long as the truck I'm driving. The gentleman in the front seat waved at me, and smiled. Showing that one of his two front teeth was missing. (sigh)

West Virginia to Virginia. Virginia to North Carolina. Stopped for the evening at a Microtel in Statesville. The sign on the door said "No pets allowed". The sign on the desk said "No pets allowed". I paid for a room, brought in my clothes, purse, computer and bag with cat dishes through the front entryway. Took the side stairs out, put Mister (the cat) into my pillowcase (with pillow) and brought my "pillow" and the litterbox through the side door. Ordered way too much food, way too late at night (pizza, antipasto salad and a sprite). After paying the delivery girl and giving her a ridiculously large tip, I decided I should put the "Do Not Disturb" sign out. Naturally, Mister took this opportunity to dart out the door. I then chased him up and down the second floor hall (literally, one way and then the other). Unfortunately, I would never make a good criminal - I couldn't relax enough to really sleep because I was convinced someone was going to come up, yell at me and kick me out of the hotel for bringing in Mister.

Oh - worst part of the evening? I planned my stop so that I would have time to eat and shower before watching my very favorite show, Project Runway. Made sure the hotel had cable... but didn't think to ask if they had Bravo. They don't. I missed my show. Total bust. Watched the season finale of The Hills instead. Um, hi - Lauren is a complete moron. She chose Jason over Paris? Stupid stupid girl.

800 miles down!!!

(I don't know what's left)

Bye Bye Chi - Chicago to Florida, Days One and Two

** The title of this entry should be sung to the tune of NSync's Bye Bye Bye, as a nod to Lance Bass' recent revelation. There is nothing in this entry about Lance Bass, NSync or homosexuality. Get over it **

Day One - Sunday, July 30, 2006

7am - wake up with nasty hangover

8:45am - receive call from movers, some of their crew hasn't shown up and they'd like to push back the 10am start time. He'll call back by noon with status

9am - begin calling U-Haul to find location and time to pick up truck (U-Haul should have called on Saturday, before 5pm, to provide me with this information. They did not. I spent an hour on Saturday attempting to contact U-Haul and the best I got was a woman who said she would send an email to the regional office, asking them to call me - they did not. Spent another half hour later on hold, talked to someone at national U-Haul number who could do nothing for me. Nothing at all)

10am - walk to nearest U-Haul pick up center. Talk to the guys working (who are filling their completely empty lot with people parking for the Cubs game) and find out that there are no trucks available in the Chicagoland area

10:15am - head to McDonald's for hangover remedy and begin calling U-Haul's national number

10:45am - speak with U-Haul representative who tells me she can do nothing

11am - return to U-Haul pick up center and call regional office, who has JUST put their phone back on the hook. Remain on phone for just over half hour and give up

11:45am - begin searching internet for other options

12:15pm - find Budget with an available truck in Chicagoland area - inform Budget associate that he is my hero. Unfortunately, he ruins the moment by saying he hears that from a lot of women

2pm - leave Budget rental lot with super-humongous truck that I should need a special license to drive

2:20pm - arrive in Wrigleyville, where rain-delayed Cubs game has begun, and parking is nonexistent. Run truck into dumpster. Park truck in alley with hazards on

2:25pm - movers call to push back time to 4pm

2:28pm - breakdown due to exhaustion

2:30pm - move truck to illegal spot on the street

2:40pm - speak with police to ensure the monster truck will not be towed

2:45pm - try to finish packing

4:00pm - receive call from U-Haul asking if I'm going to pick up my truck. Seriously?

5:08pm - call movers, who have not arrived or called. Leave message

5:40pm - call movers, who have not arrived or called. Leave message

5:41pm - breakdown due to frustration

6:01pm - call movers, who have not arrived or called. Speak with Randall, who insists they are on the way and will be there in 20 minutes

6:50pm - movers arrive

8pm - movers depart, having finished the gatorade and packed the truck in a manner that certainly makes me look like I have too much "stuff"

8:30pm - Katie departs. I have made her too sad

9pm - Lisa departs. We have done everything possible for packing the truck

9:05pm - Sweep floors, empty fridge

9:10pm - Shower. Beautiful, wonderful, blessed shower.

9:40pm - Eat Uno's stuffed pizza (frozen, warmed in oven) on cardboard Uno's box. Drink milk from gallon carton. All done sitting on floor of dining room while attempting not to share with the cat

10:30pm - take cat in carrier, turn off lights, close the door of 1109 W. Grace #2 for the last time

10:40pm- Jewel for cold water, lock for the truck and batteries for CD player

11pm - Call Lisa for directions out of Chicago. Yes, seriously

11:10pm - Turn onto Lakeshore Drive illegally (no trucks allowed on Lakeshore)

11:11pm - 11:35pm - Stomach turns incessantly as I pass two cops (they'd already pulled people over and weren't in their cars - phew) and attempt to navigate Chicago traffic (yes, even at 11pm on a Sunday night) without completely passing out.

12am (Monday morning) - Begin to relax out of city traffic. Cat freaks out and sends food, water and kitty litter all over me, cab and mostly into my purse

*** and then time gets fuzzy ***

There was a stop as soon as I hit Indiana. There was another stop where I purchased a McDonald's coke. There was another stop where I actually was in and out of sleep for about an hour. There was another stop on the side of the road (one of those "Emergency Only" cutouts). There was another stop that included a Burger King croissant (with cheese and egg) and a Dr. Pepper. There may have been one other stop. I have no idea.

10:30am - Arrive at parent's house in Cleveland. (Yes, the trip should have been between 6 and 6.5 hours. And yes, the trip - including the time change - took me 10.5 hours) The first bag I take out of the car has the cat dishes. The bottom of the bag falls out, the dishes fall onto the curb and shatter. Bring cat, purse and cat food into house. Put cat into basement, put out cat food in mom's dishes. Try to talk to mom.

10:45am - Shower. Beautiful, wonderful, blessed shower.

10:55am - Sleep. Beautiful, wonderful, blessed sleep.

4pm - Wake up, still completely brain dead and worthless. Work on crossword puzzles with mom.

7:30pm - Bloody Mary. Beautiful, wonderful, blessed Bloody Mary.

8:30pm - Steak, caprese salad, parmesan toast, red wine and Strawberry Parfait Pie

10pm - Sleep. Beautiful, wonderful, blessed sleep.