worldmegan

  Photo Credit: Missy, Dec. 27, 2005.

I keep talking about how I’m itching for half March. I’m going nuts with the waiting. It’s driving me crazy. And then I feel guilty. Because I don’t want to leave the people I love here. I’m not itching to abandon them. But when I itch for half March, I feel like maybe that’s the only thing they could possibly be hearing. Like maybe that’s what I would be hearing, if our positions were reversed.

But I have so much in my head. So many things, so much pressure. And I feel as if there will be a significant release of the pressure… once I’m in Austin. As Angel said, I’m in limbo. And I’m craving that release. It’s all I can think about.

I didn’t need to post this – as far as I know, no one’s been upset or offended by my enthusiasm for moving 1400 miles away. But I wanted to explain, so that someone could maybe understand. Something. And I know it will all be good in the end.

“What are you in for?”

“To tell you the truth—” He sat down awkwardly on the bench opposite Winston. “There is only one offense, is there not?” he said.

“And have you committed it?”

“Apparently I have.”

He put a hand to his forehead and pressed his temples for a moment, as though trying to remember something.

“These things happen,” he began vaguely. “I have been able to recall one instance – a possible instance. It was an indiscretion, undoubtedly. We were producing a definitive edition of the poems of Kipling. I allowed the word ‘God’ to remain at the end of a line. I could not help it!” he added almost indignantly, raising his face to look at Winston. “It was impossible to change the line. The rhyme was ‘rod.’ Do you realize that there are only twelve rhymes to ‘rod’ in the entire language? For days I had racked my brains. There was no other rhyme.”

The expression on his face changed. The annoyance passed out of it and for a moment he looked almost pleased. A sort of intellectual warmth, the joy of the pedant who has found out some useless fact, shone through the dirt and scrubby hair.

“Has it ever occured to you,” he said, “that the whole history of English poetry has been determined by the fact that the English language lacks rhymes?”

Today is February fifteenth: Exactly a month until March fifteenth, which I do not recall because of its super funtime day-late Idesiness, but because it is the day I have come to associate with moving to Austin. Big Drive Day.

I still don’t know what day we’ll leave. I don’t know that it will be the fifteenth. I’ve been saying mid-March, half March, Marchish. And what rings in my head is March fifteenth, March fifteenth, March fifteenth. We could pack up and go the fourteenth. We could leave early on the seventeenth and drive sixteen hours wide-awake straight, high on Monster, assuming we don’t fuck up directions and end up in a bayou. (Yeek! I’ve seen too many horror b-movies to think that’s a neat idea!)

Having a month to go (and, in my head, exactly a month) is at once incredible and painful. There’s too much to do before it runs out, and somehow not enough. So many plans have been made, I physically ache when I try to think how I am going to spend a whole month before I can get down to business. It does not feel like I am leaving people I love. It feels like I am leading them elsewhere. Yes, I’m such a hero.

Despite that ache, I know that the month will go all too quickly. It’ll be gone before I know it, and I won’t have done everything I meant to. I tell myself these things to calm, to chill. To slow the rush, because otherwise all I’ll remember is the rush. Flights back to Youngstown will be precious while I’m getting settled. I don’t know when the final dose of financial security will be dealt. I don’t know when I’ll get to fat savings account happy fairy land.

I know I’ll get there. I just don’t know when.

When it gets over with, I’ll be sad it’s done. Isn’t that funny? Wanting to go and wanting to stay? Taking Austin feels like the right course of action, wanting both. As if it somehow solves both problems. Both urges. When did all of this happen? Whose idea was it? And how the hell is it finally coming to pass, when it might have done oh-so-many other times?

Meh. The world is weird and wonderful.

It’s 11:08, and I’m going to bed.

Thanks, James... and Stephan Pastis.

Happy Valentine’s Day, ya’ll.

Taking care of the house this week for me has been something of an exercise in autonomy. This house is too big for just me, especially with Marty gone most of every day at work. And three dogs… are manageable. But I think not preferable, if I’m the only one here. I’m a little worried I’ll do something wrong, or forget something important, or maybe go to let Zeno in and find him in a brawl with a raccoon. Or something.

We speculated that Marty ought to follow his move to Austin with a bunch of tattoos, done by a hulking, grumpy Mexican across the border that rinses the blood off with tequila. You know, for sanitary reasons.

I like autonomy. It’s nice. But man, do the dishes ever pile up.

I dug out my minidisc recorder to put some things on tape later. I am not happy with the minidisc setup – it’s a pain to record and even more of a pain to digitize. I would kill for a good portable, digital recording recommendation, something that will make nice clear recordings of music. But for now I think I’m stuck with this. Anyway, the sound is nice.

I expect to be back later this afternoon, to return to my desk and wrangle the rest of my to do list. And then I think I’ll jump in the hot tub. Because I can. Excellent.

Erm. And maybe do some dishes.

In case you’d like to be presented with Just The Basics, here’s a simpler version of my last post:

Moving to Austin, TX: Marty and myself.

Tentative Launch: Mid-Marchish. His mom’s wedding is on the 18th, so if this particular plan falls into place, we’ll leave a day or two before that.

Moving Method: Car full of stuff.

Likelihood of Success: No clue. We’re gonna pretend we know what we’re doing, and if all goes well we’ll actually leave when we plan to.

Prognosis For Future In Youngstown: Not so great.

Prognosis For Future In Austin: Fairly excellent, theoretically.

Feelings On You (Yes, You!) Moving There Too: The more the merrier! Haul on down!

Reminder For Folks Who Think Texas Is Nuthin’ But A Big Ol’ Red State: Austin = Hippie Liberal Central. Safe’s a box o’ puppies!

Random Goofy Omen: Youngstown is at the END of the alphabet. Austin is at the BEGINNING. Yeeees?

Howzzat? Zat good?

It’s about as official as it’s going to get: Marty and I are moving to Austin.

We all know the basic problems with living in Youngstown. Number one on my list is the economy. All my good paying projects are out of town. Every one of us talks about getting out, as if it’s funny. Ha, ha. Stranded in Youngstown. Hysterical.

Sure, maybe it’s not so bad. Bits of it are okay. People are trying. But this city ain’t what it used to be, and many of us know how much better our options will be somewhere else. I did a plain ol’ search for information on the Youngstown economy and I came up with this super-numbery link. Marty was watching over my shoulder.

“Why is it bothering with all of those letters and numbers… when a picture of a pile of poop would suffice?”

The boy has a point.

And Youngstown has a lot of neat things, and the cost of living is low. And I shouldn’t complain, because I get to go to work every day in an office right next door to my bedroom, right upstairs from the kitchen, with big windows that look out on a beautiful front yard, in my pajamas. I have no right to complain, except for the part where I can’t keep good local business connections because they’re all running out of money. That’s a biggie.

Some of you are stuck waiting tables, wanting a good solid job that lets you do something you love. And maybe you’ll never find that in Youngstown, because the big healthy companies are elsewhere.

“...A steaming pile of poop.”

The national unemployment rate is something like 4.7%. Youngstown’s unemployment rate is 6.3%.

Austin’s is 3.9%.

More than that, compared to all the other big healthy cities out there, Austin has an incredibly low cost of living. We’re going to spend something like half of what my sister spends living in New York. All these goofy statistics, things like median household income, blah blah blah… they’re all improved in Austin. And may I mention, also, that Austin is Hippie Liberal Central? Because as far as I can tell, that’s what it is. If you’re worried the Republicans will eat me in Texas, please remember that I will have lots of Earth-conscious, happy organic hippie-buddies to protect me.

Right now I’m running on recommendations and information from sources who already live in Austin, which isn’t bad. I’m running on the fact that a lot of my best business connections are already in Austin, and some others are thinking of moving there. And I guess I’m running on the knowledge that if I stay here much longer, I won’t be able to pay my bills or support my family. And man, that’s motivating.

More than a few of you have already speculated about going to Austin too, which surprised the hell out of me. I was afraid of being the one to leave… but now all of a sudden I feel as if we may have just sparked the urge. Maybe if you know someone is gettin’ out, you know you can do it too. Hell, I have a whole office to move. One person? Way easier. And I won’t lie. Having people I love there with me will make an incredible difference in the level of scary I’m experiencing. We can all help each other out. Something like this has to be done on one’s own steam… but it doesn’t have to be done alone. Nuh uh.

Anyway, that’s all I know right now. The tentative Big Drive is scheduled for half March, give or take a few days. If all goes well, we’ll pack the bare essentials (office, clothes, sacrificial cheerleader) into Marty’s car and haul down 16 hours for his mom’s wedding on the 18th. Then we’ll make the 8 hour hop to Austin. If all goes well, we’ll stay.

None of this is solid yet. I don’t think any of it will be solid until we leave. All the pieces still need to fall into place, and don’t even get me started on the Signs From Above. But I have a really, really good feeling about all this. Terrified or not. ;}

Tell me what you think? Offer advice?

Wish us luck?

“The drunk girl in the pirate hat, she’s my business manager.”

~ Marty Whitmore, Brilliant Illustrator

Why doesn’t anyone seem to understand that if children were thoroughly educated about sex, they would make less stupid sex-related decisions? It doesn’t matter what your religion is, or what your morality dictates about sexual behavior. If people don’t have information to allow them to behave intelligently, they almost certainly won’t behave intelligently. You can’t just ask them to do what you want. They have to know why. It’s not a well-informed decision if no one’s been informed. And sex is one thing that can’t be avoided just for lack of good information. Go ahead, try.

So here’s what I’m thinking, because I’d like to avoid devoting my whole day to pasta and pizza. Pasta and pizza are so easy, and so available lately, but I need other things. And I certainly am not going to sit here with yerba and goji berries all day.

I mean, I could.

But I won’t.

I finished off the acini di pepe a few days ago, but there’s a ton of organic spaghetti in the cupboard. And there’s new pasta sauce, too, so there’s no reason not to have one pasta meal today. That’s fine. But I need other options, options that include meat and veggies.

The remaining oranges in the bottom drawer, I think, are bad now. I ate them as fast as I could! So oranges are out, unless someone has a recipe for oranges shrivelled and fermented in their own flesh…?

I’ll have another glass of yerba later – maybe around one, maybe by then I’ll need it. No sense going crazy on that account.

We have upwards of eighty-seven organic pizzas in the freezer. We have eggs. We have a little bit of soy milk. Ah. Erm. We have a package of bacon.

I think I’m beginning to see why I’ve been eating so much pizza and pasta.

Egg sandwich, anyone?

Hrm.

So, if I feel like I’m eating potpourri… I mean… the kind you’re not supposed to eat… maybe I should stop eating?

I can’t figure it out. Are these things gonna make me sick?

Cause I’ve been munching them for hours now…

Missy reminded me this morning about the whole vitamin C thing. It went out of contention awhile back (at least in my own meager circles), but only because we all forgot it had been an issue. That’s all well and good, ‘cause I can’t even remember who exactly I was discussing it with.

A story on NPR this morning talked about the hoax of megadosed vitamin C, of which I guess I’ve been a proponent. Yam yam yam, Megan’s mouth runs long past the point reasonable evidence would support, we know. :P But there was something to it, some strange thing. And I know now how much better those sneaky smaller doses can work, but I still can’t deny it. Something definitely happened.

Forget about knowing exactly what it was. Hell, it was 2003, even. I saturated my body with vitamin C. I suffered the gastrointestinal effects thereof. (Having to run to the restroom every time you’re done with a scene is a huge inconvenience, in case it hasn’t already occured to you!) But the sinus infection was coming, and it disappeared – poof – like that.

Now, I’ve tried it a bunch of other times since then. Once I believe it worked partially, but the other times I chocked up to the Magical Remedy Rule – if it works well, it works once. My latest scheme with vitamin C was to take regular dosages throughout the day, every day I was sick, along with some vitamin E and some Echinacea, and (mandatory) oil of Oregano. And this worked pretty well this last time – I was sick for a couple of days, tops.

“...If something is good, more is better.” Well, okay. Anyone who follows that precept is going to have a surprise coming. In my case, I was already aware of the unhappy effects of too much vitamin C in one’s system, but I had a hunch, and that hunch allowed me to sing one more performance of Madama Butterfly when my counterpart was home with her sinuses packed. The only thing I can imagine is that if you surprise the body, you can do wacky things. And that’s all I’ve got. In fact, that’s how this last one worked, because I was staggering dosages to keep myself from getting used to one thing or another. Hooey? Maybe. But I’m not sick now, so who cares?

If you had asked me then, I’m pretty sure I would’ve denounced ‘more is better’ in half a second. Of course more isn’t better! But this shock value thing? That’s definitely something. Hell, it could turn out to be nothing later, but in the meantime it’s keeping me interested… :-D

My next experiment is going to involve replacing (?) vitamins with foods. I heard somewhere (and don’t need to be convinced) that nutrients from foods are absorbed (?) much easier / better (?). So I am wondering what happens if I provide my body with those same nutrients… as meals, instead of supplements?

Hell, that’s probably what everyone’s supposed to have been doing all along, and we’re all too incorrigable. Pah!

PS - Nope, nothing about mind over body. Ya’ll know me well enough to know I’m mulling it over anyway. Talking about it isn’t going to do anything for me right now. After the crazy conversation I had last night, I feel a little embarrassed to tell you that much!

I feel… funny.

More details, or not, as time and sanity permit.

Huh.