Well technically...

SO...

Christmas with my girlfriend was a lot of fun. Probably more fun than is strictly legal. But saying goodbye was a hard enough punishment to make up for it, I'm guessing, even though we will see each other again in a week or two (yay!).

I had not gotten more than 5 or 6 hours of sleep a night for several days even before I left to make the 400 mile drive. And I slept in a different bed each night I was there. And had trouble sleeping each time. Cause, you know, that thing with strange beds. Also, I'm a bit of an insomniac anyway. So I drove up Friday night, and only got ridiculously lost two or three times, and couldn't find any payphones, so I couldn't call and explain my not arriving when I said I would. And we spent two completely blissful days together, and I was witness to the ugliest clock/picture of Jesus in the history of mankind, and then I drove back Monday morning. It was snowing. That is a little strange to me. Also, there was a rooster crowing. Sarah called me a city mouse because I had never heard one before (completely true, by the way--I am a total city mouse). When I got back to Norfolk eight shoulder-stiffening hours later, it was probably in the mid-fifties. And pretty sunny. It kind of made me feel like I was in a different world. A vastly inferior one, of course, due to the lack of Sarah.

Sarah's grandmother is possibly the cutest old lady ever. Just ridiculously sweet and adorable. And she has some weird relatives (who doesn't?), but also some who are nice enough to make up for the rest.

When I got back, I was completely exhausted, naturally, and jittery from caffeine and lack of sleep. I took a fifty-minute nap, and then I got up to go to work, feeling totally out of it and a little sick. Oh, and apparently my toilet overflowed while I was gone, without any "input" from me, the only evidence being the soaking wet and rather stinky bathmat.

By the time I got to work, I was feeling distinctly nauseous. My head was quite hot to the touch, most of my skin was pale but my cheeks were bright red, I had a feeling that I was going to throw up any minute, I was dizzy and disoriented, I had some pretty unpleasant diarrhea...yeah. Not feeling too good, in other words.

I felt like somebody else was walking around in my body and doing things, and I was just watching. So I got the other assistant to close for me and an employee to come in early, and I drove home. Without any mishaps, astonishingly enough. As soon as I lay down, I started feeling better. By the time the very kind friend who I had begged to come over and deal with my bathroom for me arrived I was not quite okay, but well enough to feel embarrassed about the disgusting state of my apartment (especially since her husband came with her) and my lack of apparent sickness. So I just stood around and tried to act pathetic. I think I was fairly successful, mostly due to my state of exhaustion.

OF COURSE, after the nap I had taken earlier, I had not a chance of getting to sleep at a reasonable hour. So I read The Snow Garden and talked to Sarah for a little over two hours (not nearly long enough) and eventually I slept. Well. For the first time in days. That was pretty awesome. But Sarah's cell phone is non-functional right now, and that makes me sad, because it means she will not call and leave me cute rambling messages while she's on break. It also means that there's no way I can hear her voice until we're both off work pretty late tonight. Is it sad that that makes me feel slightly panicky? That she was the first person I wanted to call when I was feeling sick? That I wanted nothing more than for her to be there to rub my back and tell me it would all be okay?

I am not a big fan of winding country roads with no guardrails and no streetlights. Especially at night. And by "not a big fan" I mean that they scare the crap out of me. But I would be willing to drive them every day, even in the snow, if it meant that we could live together. How in love am I? Leaving was just about the hardest thing I've ever done. Even though I knew it was not even semi-permanent. I felt like you might feel if somebody ripped your arm (the one with your writing hand) out of the socket and told you that you could have it back every now and then, but only for a few days at a time. And you would just have to deal with the bloody shoulder on your own. Obviously, there was no heartless Jack-the-ripper guy in evidence, but it was pretty devastating to have to drive away when she was right there. I started to miss her before I even left, and by the time I got home it was pretty acute.

I am forced to conclude that the bizarre and shortlived sickness was a result of too much caffeine, lack of sleep, and stress. Although missing Sarah was probably a contributing factor too. She told me to call every time I stopped, which I did pretty dutifully, but every time I called her cell phone I got a busy signal. At first it made me mad, because I thought she was talking to someone else instead of waiting for me to call (and I timed my calls pretty careful to coincide with her breaks). Then I started to think maybe something had happened to her phone. Maybe something happened to her. Cause, yeah, paranoid like that. Apparently Sprint is just being stupid, though. But not being able to reach her made me really anxious. How pathetic am I?

Okay, so I will go dig out my backup bathmat now, and have a shower, and go do some laundry. But all I really want to do is wrap Sarah up in my arms and never let her go. And I don't even care that that is just about the most hackneyed thing I've ever written. Just. Don't. Care.

I wrote this part last night:

So...I went Christmas shopping tonight. For a pretty different set of people than the ones I was planning on shopping for. Because, yeah, last minute change of Christmas plans. The branch of the family I was planning on spending the holiday with has had a veritable plague of health problems, sooooo...I am spending it with Sarah instead. And you have NO idea how happy that makes me. Like, snowbells and sleighbells and whiskers on kittens and snow on eyelashes and warm woolen mittens, or however that song goes. Happy enough that I do not care that I just admitted to knowing lyrics (however mangled) from The Sound of Music. And if THAT doesn't knock your socks off, how about this: I am so happy that I will freely admit to harboring a not-so-secret fondness for The Sound of Music. I even have the soundtrack. That is a LOT of happy, folks.

I went Christmas shopping tonight. Mostly for Sarah. But also for me. Because I am that shameless. Also, I have some extra money, although not anymore, thanks to my Planet Music spree. Here is what I bought:

Darkest Days Stabbing Westward
Dimanche a Bamako Amadou & Mariam
Dreaming Wide Awake Lizz Wright
Let It Die Feist
Plans Death Cab for Cutie
Silent Alarm Bloc Party
Touch Sarah McLachlan
When the Pawn Fiona Apple (which I totally got almost at random because used CDs were buy 3 get 1 free)

I also bought some new undershirts--like I don't already have fifteen, right?--but they're totally way nicer than any of my others.

I got a Christmas card from an old friend today.

And yeah, I'm talking to Sarah right now, so I have no attention span whatsoever. Sorry about that whole disjointed incoherence thing I've got going on.


This part was written today:

I'm sort of happy and nervous and everything. Yeah. A lot. I'm making CDs to help me stay awake on the 7-8 hour drive. One of just fairly loud music, one of dance music.

And I'm stressing out a little, although I know I shouldn't. Just a lot to do, and not a lot of time to do it in. Plus the longest I've ever driven before was about 4 hours, and I stopped a couple times, and it was in the middle of the day. This will definitely be a challenge. But a worthwhile one.

I feel so out of it. I'm all tired and strange and excited and worried and I can't think straight (although, really, who would want to?) and it's almost Christmas, and wheeee that was my (derailed) train of thought whizzing past. Whatever. Bleh. I'm tired of this entry.

I have no attention span, apparently. I just sit and stare vacantly into space with a big, stupid grin on my face. Sarah made me a CD. It's really sappy and very sweet and I totally cried when I got to about the fifth song.

We have made solemn promises to ourselves and each other that we will be productive and not talk to each other tonight until 11. She has a zine to work on, and I have Christmas cards (which will probably arrive sometime mid-January) to write.

I've been trying to decide whether to go with the impersonal approach for the people I don't know very well, i.e. "Love, Hannah" or the insincere approach :"I miss you guys so much. [I'm such a bad liar.] Hope you have a great holiday. Give my love to the kids [how many are there again? more than one, I hope, or I will sound like a total idiot.] Will write more soon. [Yeah. Sure. If next Christmas counts, maybe.] XOXO, Hannah."

I'm leaning toward impersonal, because at least it's faster, and, well, I don't have the greatest track record with correspondence. It's astonishing enough that I actually bought the cards and got them all addressed in a (fairly) timely fashion.

Also, I have lots of gift ideas for some people and none at all (not even bad ones) for others. And I am so screwed. Because all I seem to think about is Sarah. And I just can't bring myself to feel bad about it. She sends me cool packages in home-made envelopes and writes me letters and compliments me until I blush and I'm sure you have all developed gaping cavities by now, and yeah, sorry about that, but wow. I'm just so happy. Life is good.

http://www.overheardinnewyork.com/archives/003618.html

I'm really just blogging because I don't feel like doing any of the better things that I have to do (and there are plenty of them). Maybe nobody else does this, but sometimes I develop these weird mental blocks about things. Often things that I need to do, even want to do. I just put them off for a while because I know I won't enjoy doing them very much, and then somehow "a while" becomes weeks or months and I do strange and useless things (like this blog post) to avoid doing what I know I need to do. Like, you know, cleaning or laundry or Christmas cards or whatever. One day I'll have to grow up. Hopefully not anytime soon, though.

Have I mentioned recently how much I love my girlfriend? (I know the answer is yes, but humor me here.) I do. A lot. Enough that I am writing a blog about nothing in particular because I know that she likes to read them. Also enough that I halfway paid attention to the soap operas that were playing at the laundromat so I could make fun of them better when I talked to her.

In the two half-soaps that I saw, all of the following took place: one couple professed undying love for one another and there was a proposal of marriage (she said yes), one couple broke up, somebody named Jason was in the hospital recovering from brain surgery, somebody got called a bitch, somebody discovered a fact that would "change everything," and somebody was using somebody else's foolish teenaged daughter's actions against him. I think the teenager's name was Lulu, but I find that rather hard to believe, even for a soap opera. I kept trying not to snicker uncontrollably when they went all melodramatic (so approximately every 30 seconds) because there are some scary people at the laundromat, and I have no desire to get beaten up, but yeah...funny stuff.

And I really need to go to work now, because I have cakes to make tonight, and stuff, but I will maybe try to blog a little more regularly. But please don't hold it against me if I slip up. I'm only human, etc. etc. (You haven't posted in two days, Hannah. The blog police are coming! Run!)

Sarah and I are getting back together.

I told my parents.

I just couldn't hold it in any longer. Because I wanted to tell the world, but I wanted them to find out from me first, so I had to find a way to tell them.

I found a way. I'm sure they won't be happy about it, but, well, that's life. We'll all deal with it and move on.

We've become the sickeningly cute couple again in a really alarmingly small amount of time. And we haven't even seen each other in person since the Weekend from Hell entry. I just know that we're both going to burst into tears when we see each other (she's driving down for New Year's) and spend at least an hour of our precious time together weeping uncontrollably. But that's okay, because we need to do that, and as long as we're together, I don't really care what we do. I'd be happy just to watch her sleep. I won't get to, though, because we're doing this whole "taking it slowly" thing, so she's going to sleep on my trundle bed in the living room, and she always wakes up before me (although maybe I could get up for a midnight snack...).

I think we've averaged at least two hours of (really enjoyable) conversation a day. That is a lot of talking. Sometimes there are pauses. Sometimes we just listen to each other breathe (I know, I know). Also, sometimes we talk about really random--not to say strange--stuff. But we never run out of things to say. And that is just amazing. I am so stupid, head-over-heels, distracted, foolish, vacantly grinning, absurdly happy, fabulously much in love. So much so that I don't care how ridiculously ungrammatical that last sentence was or how I've used way too many adverbs and not enough commas in this entry so far.

Also, on a completely unrelated note, I am really tired but can't sleep and Shannon made me cookies (yay!), and I am just soooo wired and oh God pleeeease can I sleep soon because I have to work in, oh, 5 1/2 hours, and I am NOT going to be a pretty sight in the morning if I don't get some more sleep in.

My feet are like big iceballs stuck to the ends of my legs, so I'm going to go back to bed where it's warm before I get hypothermia and all my toes fall off. Good night!

This is the one day a month when I really hate being a woman. Grr. Cramps suck.

And I know that craving chocolate means that you need magnesium. But...somehow taking a magnesium pill is just not as satisfying as eating a big piece of German chocolate cake covered in a towering mass of whipped cream. *happy sigh*

I am the designated cake person at work. Because my new manager, although a nice person, is just not good at decorating cakes. Actually, I don't think she's much good at making them, either. And by "not good" I mean "so incredibly bad you would laugh yourselves silly if you saw them." So I am the only halfway-decent cake person. And I mean that halfway part. I have to decorate a big, fancy Harry Potter cake that's due on the 20th. And I have to airbrush. And use fancy tips to make grass and mountains and clouds. And I am SO scared I'm going to mess it up. Mostly because my hands will be shaking with nervousness.

I went to Target yesterday. I found (finally!) some black work pants. And I bought new underwear and stuff to sleep in and some really cute wrapping paper and these awesome, awesome socks that make my feet not hurt even after hours of standing up.

Sarah mailed me some really cool mix CDs which I am in the process of listening to. They always have tons of people I haven't heard of on them, and I usually dislike about a third of them, like most of the rest, and fall in love with two or three.

I took my grandfather's tiny little 18" tree over and set it up today. He was absurdly pleased with it, but I think that may be due, at least in part, to his poor eyesight, because I forgot to bring the little metal hanger thingies for the ornaments, so I had to either force them onto the ends of branches, thus causing them to stick out at unnatural angles, or tuck them near the "trunk" on top of branches, thus rendering them nearly invisible. So next time I go over there I have to take some hangers and see if I can't get it looking a little better.

I got up on the (not terribly stable) ladder to put up a bunch of new prices on the menu board today. It was kind of depressing. Cause all the ghetto people already complain about how expensive everything is. And now we'll be fielding extra complaints for a month or so. Grr.


And you know, when I started out to write this, I was all like "yay! so much to write about!" and now I'm all "oh no! I forgot it all!" and now y'all are probably all "oh no she didn't!" and I'm all "too bad! cause I got cramps, peoples, and this is all you're gettin."

This is an oh my god sort of situation. Like, oh my god oh my god oh my god. Like, wow.

Sarah and I are speaking to each other again. And, um, there's other stuff, which I won't go into because I'm not sure where this is headed yet. But wow. Just, wow.

In other news:

I've made two CDs so far:

Oh my God! That is, like, SO gay! (for my departing boss who likes to pretend to be a valley girl)

1. It’s Raining Men Martha Wash & RuPaul
2. Gay Bar Electric Six
3. We Are Family Sister Sledge
4. I’m Not a Fucking Drag Queen Peter Outerbridge
5. Cherry Lips (Go Baby Go) Garbage
6. Believe Cher
7. Somebody Told Me The Killers
8. Rebel Grrl Bikini Kill & Joan Jett
9. High School Confidential Rough Trade
10. I Kissed a Girl Jill Sobule
11. Homosapien Pete Shelley
12. Johnny Are You Queer Josie Cotton
13. Bad Reputation Joan Jett
14. Chick Habit April March
15. Rollercoaster Sleater-Kinney
16. No More Drama Mary J. Blige
17. Constant Craving k d lang
18. Closer to Fine the Indigo Girls
19. Precisely Julie Clark
20. Straight to Number One Touch’N’Go


Are they bleeding yet? (accompanied by a rather vague drawing of a pair of ears dripping blood)

1. Hello Oasis
2. Woke Up This Morning Nickelback
3. Smells Like Teen Spirit Nirvana
4. This Is the New Shit Marilyn Manson
5. Numb Linkin Park
6. Remedy Seether
7. Give Up the Grudge GOB
8. Skin Breaking Benjamin
9. Homosapien Pete Shelley
10. Jesus Freak dc Talk
11. Somebody Told Me The Killers
12. Bad Reputation Joan Jett
13. We've Had Enough Alkaline Trio
14. Did My Time Korn
15. Fine Again Seether
16. Gasoline Seether
17. The Fox Sleater-Kinney
18. Alleine zu Zweit Lacrimosa
19. Rollercoaster Sleater-Kinney
20. Du Hast Rammstein

Can you tell that I'm obsessed with Sleater-Kinney and Seether right now? Yeah. Just a little. Also with "Homosapien," although I'm not sure exactly why. Just a cool song, I guess.

--Your friendly neighborhood lesbian

Apparently I am self-absorbed. I guess I should work on that.

I think I am going to see a movie tonight, if I can find one that I want to see.

I think I'm going to like my new manager. She's going to be pretty strict, but fair, I think, and she seems pretty nice so far. I'm going to miss Beth, though.

I really wanted to write something fun and light-hearted today, but I'm tired and angry, and it's just not happening for me, but I won't burden you with the details. I'll leave you with a quote (and if anyone knows who said it, please let me know so I can credit them)...

Angels fly because they take themselves lightly.

[updated 12/4/05 12:45 am] Apparently the quote is from G.K. Chesterton's Orthodoxy. Thank you, anonymous.