• We’re not leaving here, now, until the end of July. Which feels like a really great idea; I wasn’t ready to be out of here quite that soon.
  • That gives me almost three more weeks to hang out here in the bittersweet limbo of the About-to-Move.
  • And three more weeks for things with Bad Idea to come to some kind of…resolution? Ha!
  • We–Bad Idea and I–have a plan. It involves a lobster and oyster dinner. I’ve never had any kind of seafood besides, you know, canned tuna. Bad Idea has offered to teach me all about good seafood before I leave here.
  • Bad Idea has also suggested that lobster dinners frequently lead to nakedness.
  • I’m down with that.
  • But.
  • (that was the one about how Other Things that I can’t talk about might lead to a bit of a complication around that planned dinner)
  • (see why I haven’t been blogging lately? who can blog with this many things that can’t be said?)
  • (the things I’m not blogging are good things, potentially, but are extremely anxiety-provoking, as well…but they’re not BAD unbloggable things)
  • Right. Anyway. The Bay Area is still the plan, but I don’t know how soon we can get there. GB really needs to get some kind of job right quick.
  • Because I am not so down with living with his parents and grandparents indefinitely.
  • I’ve been starting to sell off some of the decent furniture, so the place is starting to clear out a little. Which is nice.
  • We haven’t really packed much of anything, though.
  • I’ll have plenty of packing time while GB is off on the West Coast for a week next month taking the Bar.
  • Oh yeah, that’s an update: GB is flying out to take the Bar, then flying back, THEN we’re driving the cats across the country. That’s why we have more time here.
  • My big (older, that is) sister is coming to visit! Finally! For four days! And she gets here on THURSDAY!!!! OMGPONIESSS!!!111!! I miss the hell outta her and I haven’t seen her in a freaking YEAR (since the wedding, actually) and I am actually giddy with excitement about her visiting. Seriously. I’m, like, 12 years old right now, and planning how I’m going to get her to stay up all night talking and drinking Bailey’s Irish Cream on the rocks with me.
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