The Centipede Wars

Married life is all about teamwork.

This was never more clear than last night when I suffered a near(ish) death experience.

Joey and I had had a lovely Memorial Day, sleeping in, going to the beach, relaxing, all culminating in eating burgers and settling in for our nightly episode of Firefly. All was calm, all was quiet.

But our relaxing evening in was not to be.

We don’t have an air conditioner yet, and it hasn’t been too hot so far, so we’ve just been opening Windows and using this oscillating fan I bought at Target.

So last night, I go to shut the window in the living room, and when I move the curtain aside, THE BIGGEST CENTIPEDE I HAVE EVER SEEN CRAWLS ACROSS THE WINDOW SILL.

It had roughly eight billion legs.For those of you not familiar, I do not do well with bugs. At all. Particularly cockroaches and many-legged vermin. So I promptly started shrieking for Joey to “OMGgiantbugGETIT!!!

Joey sprung into action, but the creature had positioned itself against the sill in such a way that he couldn’t simply be smashed with a shoe. We sat there for a few seconds (that felt like a few years) trying to decide our next move.

I came up with the brilliant idea of shooting it with hair spray. I’d done this before (albeit on smaller bugs) with great success. So while Joey kept an eye on the thing, I ran for the spray.

Well, it was nice in theory. The centipede darted right off the sill and promptly under the couch. I looked at Joey.

“There is no way I’m going to be able to sleep knowing that thing is in here.”

And thus began one of the most excruciating hours of my life.

Fortunately, we got smarter and got out the vacuum with its extender tool. Technology: Separating us from the animals since the invention of thumbs.

We almost got him twice before the bug settled himself squarely in the middle of the floor under the heaviest part of the couch where the pullout bed is.

At this point, I was exhausted, hot and sweaty, and almost ready to just let him stay. (Almost.)

Then it occurred to me that if we lifted up the pullout bed without actually pulling it out, we would be able to see what was underneath. With me covering his feet, Joey started removing the couch cushions.

At first we still couldn’t see the bug, but then I started sweeping the vacuum around under the couch to scare him against the back wall. It actually worked, and within a few minutes he was safely trapped in our vacuum. (Which is conveniently transparent so we can make sure he’s still in there.)

Joey promptly started researching the creature on his phone (they eat spiders and thrive in the water), while I tried to imagine a time I would feel safe opening the windows ever again.

But the point is, this job would have been much harder (and probably more terrifying) if I’d been by myself. They should probably include something about protecting each other from giant bugs in the marriage vows.

In other news, this weekend was pretty cool. Saturday we went to our friends’ wedding, and I gotta say, it was nice to go to a wedding and not have to do anything.

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Then on Sunday, we had some people over to thank them for helping us with our wedding.

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Then Monday was sleep in/beach/hamburger/centipede hunt day.

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I even managed to keep up with my half marathon training! Go me.

All in all, a pretty great holiday weekend.

The new apartment

Happy Memorial Day Weekend, my loves!

This is going to make me sound incredibly shallow, but sometimes I forget the origins of Memorial Day. Case in point, today on the radio they kept dedicating songs to the armed forces, and I was like, “Hmm…that’s nice but…random.”

That’s when I recalled that the purpose of Memorial Day is not just to sleep in, grill, go to the beach, and party. ‘Merica.

Speaking of parties, Joey and I are having our first shindig in the new place today. Which meant that I had to get everything looking pretty. Which means….

YOU GET TO SEE PICTURES!!

Enjoy:

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Living room.

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Corner “Office”

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Dining room (in fiesta mode)

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Kitchen, angle one.

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Kitchen, angle two.

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Living room, angle two.

Plus, a few party decor shots:

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We named him Paco.

Hope everyone is having a great weekend!

I loathe you…just kidding I love you.

I think it’s kind of funny how the more you’re forced to come in contact with strangers, the more likely you are to have strong emotions toward them.

If, for example, I only had to deal with obnoxious fellow commuters once a week or so, I could probably laugh off their antics without experiencing any feeling other than a mild indifference.

When it’s a day-to-day thing, you kind of have to be more involved, lest you run the risk of being indifferent all the time. And therefore a robot. Just sayin.

Obviously I’m leading up to an anecdote.

So today I got to leave work at three. Yay! Apparently this is a common occupance, because the subway and train home were both pretty full.

Now, we’re going home about two hours early, so technically there should be no rush. Even if it take half an hour to get to the train, you’re still getting home early. But for whatever reason, people become animals when you delay their getting home early for even a few minutes.

Now, on one level, I get it. I too feel the mounting excitement for the three-day weekend. I too spend most of my day ready to head home again. I have a long commute home; I get the joy of every second you spend already at home and not on your way there.

But let’s get one thing straight: As much as I whine and moan and berate to you guys on this blog, I am not an obnoxious commuter. I keep my issues to myself until I can expel them like a human being. With my words. On the Internet. The most I’ll do in the heat of the moment is sigh heavily and shift my weight impatiently. Because I know I’m not the only one in a rush, and throwing a quiet tantrum isn’t solving anything.

Which brings me to the crux of my anecdote.

To get to the subway, I have to descend a rather long staircase. I’m one of those people who takes the escalator, but walks down the steps to speed up the process. Today I was behind a girl who was a little slower than I would have liked, but she kept up a steady pace and didn’t randomly stop in front of me, so I didn’t mind too much. Besides, I was out TWO HOURS early. How much could you really complain?

Answer: Quite a bit.

I was vaguely aware of a man walking down the stairs right behind me. Aware because he was a bit too close, making loud, huffy breathing noises so I knew he was there and would be aware he was in a hurry. Also in a hurry and trapped behind the person in front of me, I ignored him. Because really, what did he expect me to do?

As we neared the bottom of the escalator, things escalated (no pun intended). The subway was at the platform, and we obviously had less than a minute to get to it. I think it’s important to point out here that the slow-but-steady girl was still in front of me on the last couple of stairs, meaning at this point I was still not in control of the pace of our descent.

This apparently did not deter our fat friend behind me (because he was fat…and sweating) because it was at this moment that he started snapping. His fingers. At me. In my ear.

If I hadn’t had but scant few seconds to get on board. I would have abruptly turned, given him my most withering stare, and been all, “Ex-cuse me?? You wanna try that again, dough boy?”

As it was, I threw an incredulous look over my should, ran around the slower girl, and was almost at the train doors when they started to close. I wasn’t going to make it.

It was at this moment that my opinions of the fat man were conflicted. Like a pudgy bat out of hell, he suddenly came careening around me and shoved a fleshy foot in the closing doors, forcing them to open and hurrying on board, allowing me to slip in discreetly behind him.

I quickly hurried to the other end of the car, but I couldn’t help but sneak a peek at my former nemesis. I had sworn to hate him forever, and yet there was no denying he had saved me (from having to wait three more minutes for the next train).

What startled me was how strong my emotions were, and how dynamic the shift. One second I was I was using the term “dough boy,” the next I wanted to give him a high five.

If this was a movie, it would be the scene where the villain’s ever-evil exterior cracks to reveal a sad, scared person the audience can relate to. In real life, it was the moment I realized that even impatient, rude jerks have a purpose.

Kind of warms your heart a little, don’t it?

I edit because I care

I’ve realized that I do something kind of weird. Well, weird for the average person. Maybe less weird for a blogger.

Anyway, I noticed that any time something happens to me (seriously, pretty much anything), I start drafting a blog post about it in my head. Almost without realizing it.

Now this is a bit odd, but it’s also helpful. Mostly for you. Because three out of four times, it’s this little test run that makes me realize this post would not be a good idea. It would be uncomfortable. Or self-absorbed (more than normal). Or just really boring.

Because I mean, seriously, I could talk about my new file organizing system for days (it has files and subfiles. And I won’t let Joey write out the tabs because I want the “font” to be the same. And I’m insane.), but let’s face it; there is just no way you care. (Unless you do? In which case, I’ll just be sitting here waiting for the green light for the subfiles. Aaany day now…)

Sometimes I worry that one of these days I’ll get waaaay too comfortable with you guys and let something a bit too awkwardly personal into the blog. Like, I don’t know, something about bodily functions. Or…something.

See? Even now I’m awkward about the discussion. Maybe my quick-draw sense of embarrassment will be my saving grace.

The point is, when I don’t post for a while, maybe I’m doing it for your protection. Maybe I’m just thinking of you. Maybe I just care too much, ok?

You’re welcome.

So not like me.

I forgot to wear my wedding rings yesterday.

It’s only happened once or twice before, but it’s weird how that simple thing can make me feel not quite like myself.

Plus there’s that moment of “ohmygodilostititwasstolenitwasspiritedawaybyelves!!!!”

…or maybe that’s just me?

It’s a little unnerving how little things like that can make you feel like an entirely different person. For example, I’m one of those people who doesn’t really feel like myself when, in my opinion, I’m dressed frumpily.

One time, I had to wear my glasses because my eyes were especially dry (I’m almost always in contacts), I wore my hair in a ponytail because it was dirty, and I wore flats (in general I wear some kind of heel…short girls gotta do what short girls gotta do). Joey and I went out that night to meet up with some friends, and he kept sneaking glances at me.

“You’ve got the whole secretary thing going on tonight,” he said finally. I think he meant it as a compliment, but the fact was, we both agreed the “secretary thing” was not my usual style. When our friends arrived later, they didn’t even recognize me across the dimly lit bar.

“I’ve never seen you in flats!” my friend Heather exclaimed.”Brett had to point you out — you’re so little!”

Make no mistake, I wasn’t insulted, and Heather didn’t mean it as a bad thing. I mean, I know I’m on the shorter side of average. I just mean it all reconfirmed for me that I wasn’t myself. At least in appearance anyway.

I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who feels this way. I think everyone has that one thing that they wear every day (a watch, perfume, lucky underwear, etc.) that they feel a little lost without. And everyone has tried some fashion look only to realize that they just can’t pull it off.

I guess the bright side of knowing what isn’t you is that it probably has given you a better idea of what is. Me? I’m a married chick who needs some help in the height department. I can deal with that.

The really dull post

Oh…hey.

Listen, I know what you’re going to say: Justine, what happened to you? You used to be such a reliable blogger, and now…well.

I know, ok? You’re right. I’m much less regular. But hey, I could be worse, right?

I’d like to blame how busy I’ve been with work and apartment setting up and life in general, but we all know I do my writing on the train, and no matter what I’ve got about two hours every day that I’m just sitting there.

So I’ll blame literature. I’ve been reading a lot lately instead of writing. Sorry I’m not sorry.

Anyways, what’s up with you guys?? Joey and I have been prepping for our first party in the new place this weekend. Hopefully the apartment will look nice enough for me to post a few more pictures for those of you who live too far to be invited.

Other than that, just kinda keepin’ on keepin’ on, ya know?

I’m sure my next post will be more interesting (let’s hope..), just didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten you!

Things I’m obsessed with right now…

1. Working out.
Half marathons don’t run themselves, folks. Plus, I signed up for 20 sessions with that personal trainer just for good measure. This week, I had my two weekly sessions back-to-back. To say I’m already feeling it is an understatement.

2. Adele
Ok, so around 99.999999% of the country is with me in that one, but it doesn’t make it any less true. Girl could sing anything and I would dig it. Plus, have you heard her live recordings? My favorite part (besides everything) is how genuinely flattered she sounds when people applaud. Adorable.

3. Organization
We bought a desk. Then I bought the latest issue of Real Simple. Then I had to go back to Target for the prettiest hanging files and desktop organizer I could find. Pros: Just about all our important paperwork (warranties, licenses, bills) is now neatly filed away. Cons: I think I have a disease. I. Can’t. Stop. Newlywed nesting. What can ya do?

4. Mr. Clean Magic Eraser
This is probably my greatest married life discovery. And, of course, by “discovery,” I mean, “thing everyone knew about but I only just decided to try.” (Remember when I “discovered” Pandora? …last year?) But anyway, that thing is amazing. I think it may actually be magic. Or a highly concentrated cleaning solution…if you want to get all accurate about it.

So anyway. If my posting tapers in the next few days, it’s because I’m doing those things. Consider yourself warned.