U dont no me ...

Dennis and I recently got new phones, so if you haven't changed my number in your address book, please let me know and I'll shoot that info to you ...

I've already received a few calls and text messages that were probably meant for someone else. As misdirected texts tend to be amusing, I've decided to post them for all to enjoy - with my own commentary, as necessary.

**Yes, I know I'm totally copying The Leila Texts, but I am glad that the volume of texts I get is far smaller than hers**

9 October 2008, 10:59 p.m.
Area code 806
"Hey I heard about your hipl, I hope you're feeling better"
Huh?

14 October 2008, 6:34 a.m.
Area code 580
"Happy belated birthday my love! I hope you had an amazing time!!!!! Muah!"
This person is scoring no points with his/her love ... By the time the right person got this message (if they got it at all), it was almost certainly a VERY belated birthday wish. Here's how the text should read: "Hey, I totally forgot about your birthday so I'm sending a smoochy sound to your inbox, k?"

23 October 2008, 9:16 p.m.
Area code 806 (not the same guy as 9 October)
"Dude, you need to hit me up sometime. You never answer your phone. It's Jet."
I don't know any "Jet"s well enough to be comfortable with them calling me dude.

Two months later ...

It's about 1 in the morning on a school night, and in less than five hours the dogs will be demanding to go on a walk.

... And I can't get to sleep. It's less than three weeks 'til my wedding and I'm in freakout mode. Why? Because the first photographer I called might be unavailable for that weekend and my fallback option will be in Arkansas. So I've had to expand my search beyond Starkville. Second problem: we're reaching the end of the wedding fund. Good thing we're making our own cake, otherwise the final bill would be completely ridiculous for a ceremony involving less than twenty people. Seriously, the photographers I've spoken to charge nearly as much as we paid for the site and food. I'd better see something pretty impressive during the appointment ...

Belligerently yours,
Meredith

Promises, promises ...

Right-o, well ... I told you I'd be back, no? And here I be.

Since last we met, I've finished that ridiculous spring semester, moved out of the dorms FOR GOOD, enrolled in summer courses so I can get out at the end of my fourth year, and made progress on planning the wedding. Still on track for August 9th.

Oh, and there was a fire.

I returned to my room after my morning class (the only class that day) and found a message waiting for me:

"Smake at the house"

I'm not sure what "smake" is, but I do know what "smoke" and "snake" are, and I'm not too fond of either one when they show up uninvited. So I requested some clarification, then headed over to see just how bad things were.

Fortunately we only lost a few kitchen utensils and some food that couldn't be saved for one reason or another (create for yourself a mental image of me gasping for clean air, partially covered in soot and begging Dennis to take the spoiled contents of the fridge far away), Leo was able to escape by tearing through the screen on an open window, and Tribbles was shielded from the heat and smoke by a closed bedroom door. Thanks to a fair amount of good luck and convenient scheduling, our neighbor in the other half of the duplex came home for lunch only a few minutes after the fire had broken out and called the fire department (located maybe four blocks away).

The first couple of days we spent apartment-hunting were not too encouraging. Most places within our price range wouldn't be available for at least another three weeks, and many wouldn't be open until August - a sure sign you're in a college town. Our luck eventually turned, and we were able to find an open apartment not too far from "the crispy house" (as we now refer to it). It's a block away from the hospital, so it's practically like home ... at least for me. Since then, I've moved in and will begin the official process of becoming a Mississippi resident very shortly. It all has to do with school and scholarships and crap.

I also got a puppy. Pictures forthcoming, as soon as I find my camera. Good night for now.

I persist in my annoying habit of existence

Evening, all. It's the last week of class before exams, and I'm thoroughly behind and therefore overwhelmed, thanks in part to a little bit of a house fire ... and medieval reenactment. Pictures and expanded narratives in two weeks or less!

Fatal Error - Cue Blue Screen of Death

I should be working, so I'll keep this brief.

Wedding plans are rolling (developments to be posted on the bridal ethblography ... sometime ... ), and I've decided NEVER to take 18 hours in one semester ever again. This week is stretching my time and energy pretty thin, and midterms will take place the following two weeks.

So I must go back to my paper, and hopefully I'll have enough of that finished by the time I crash that I can crank out some passable work for tomorrow's pin-up in architecture history.

Journey Along A Pew-Lined Aisle to the Center of the Mind

You know when your subconscious likes to manifest your concerns and insecurites? It really can suck many unsavory things.

Last night I had a wedding dream. I'll keep it in the "dream" category rather than the "nightmare" category because there were no truly dangerous or utterly horrifying aspects, just things that would really piss me off in real life. Firstly, the ceremony was being held at a church - and not even a Baptist or Catholic church (either of which would make some sense, if we were having a church wedding), but a Lutheran church (from what I could scrape together from my own experience with Lutherans). Secondly, the place was packed. Friends, family, extended family two or three times removed, and even complete strangers were filling the aisles. Thirdly, I looked down to find that I was wearing a dress that I wouldn't ever pick for myself. Before I could be fully stressed about my wardrobe situation, the wedding march started to play. The wedding march is not on my list of music for the ceremony, but for whatever reason, I made my way awkwardly to the front of the church. About halfway to my destination I realized that Dennis was MIA, so I detoured to the nearest familiar face to start freaking out. A short while later he shows up, wearing a t-shirt, stained jeans, and a hoodie, like he had just come from work. I threw in the towel right then, postponing the ceremony until it could be done right. Dennis and I managed to get away from the horde of guests, but then some chick (whom it appears Dennis had dated years ago) shows up and basically tries to molest him right in front of me, despite objections from both of us.

It doesn't take a degree in psychology to recognize that this was just an extreme projection of almost everything I don't want to happen at my wedding, but going through the experience was still somewhat stressful (at least while I was asleep). Next time I'll probably post some insight into societal views (or at least the portion of society that could give a crap) on marrying at a "young" age.