Not So Random Anymore

Last Friday, after waking from a wonderful slumber, taking a very sleepy shower, and putting together an outfit that had the least amount of wrinkles I could find, I made my way to the office. I sat at my desk with a english muffin and a coffee and logged onto our local paper's website to begin my morning ritual-prolonging the inevitable work day.

I read through the first couple posts of the day- Towson gas station robbed, man critically injured- three shot, one fatal in late night assault- man shot during attempted carjacking North Baltimore. Nothing out of the norm really. I mean, I do live in a City commonly referred to as "Bodymore, Murderland". I read a few stories about the rich and the semi-famous, catched up on real estate adventures, and then finally decide I should actually begin to do what I'm being paid for- seriously, how is net surfing not a paid job already? Just kidding, I really do work hard...

Anyway, several hours later I log onto facebook (shocker, right?) and my homepage is bombarded with Stay Strong, T and we know you can pull through T, etc. I'm clearly clueless about what happened to T. I bbm the boy and he has no idea. I text Powerslam- a mutual friend between of T and I. Actually, I may have met T through Powerslam. Regardless of that, Powerslam is not sure either- so the brigade of texts begin. T was the man shot in armed carjacking, the article I carelessly read about hours earlier.

I was stunned. Beyond belief actually. I was scared for T and his family and I'm pretty sure I said a quick prayer and for those of you that know me, I'm completely indifferent about religion. But this hit home. Now don't let me mislead you to think T and I speak every day or that I see him on the reg, because I definitely don't. However, he's been invited to every party I've ever hosted- I've seen him at almost every gathering I've probably attended, I've thrown back more then a few with him, and he even joined in our short lived poker nights.

T survived a bullet to the stomach that punctured his liver, kidney, and colon. But he's already beginning to regain his charm. In fact, when I visited him Tuesday with a group of friends, we asked the dumbest question we could "How are you feeling?" His response was classic "Like I have a bullet in my stomach". Well said T, well said.

I had a different outlook Monday morning when I sat down to read the recaps of the weekend. I no longer felt indifferent to news article outlining the tragedies of the City. Not to say that I won't become jaded at these stories again or that when I hear the sirens roll by my house at night that it won't cross my mind that someone may have just been shot. But for now, at this moment, my heart bleeds a little for the families and most definitely the friends of these people, who suffer at the hands of the ignorant.

I'm already looking forward to the Welcome Home party for T.

Chaos Interrupted

So it's official, we bought a house. It came with a lot of painting to be done, new flooring to be installed, a faux 80s diner countertop, and some cussing- er, A LOT of cussing. With that being said, we love it and are so excited to move in-eventually.



Working 8 hour days and running back and forth between two houses over the past week has been GAWD AWFUL. But slowly (and I mean very slowly) the house is materializing into something beeeeautiful. Back at the ranch (aka the rental), we're dodging brown boxes and trying to seperate two years worth of stuff. I question how I've accumulated so much crap in each room I try and pack up.



Work (as in my actual paid job) has been busy, especially because this was my first full week back. Between snow, federal holidays, settlement, and sickness and doctor appointments, I've maybe worked 8 full days this month. In those 8 days, I've worked my ass off to make sure I don't fall too far behind. I mean, I'm only trying to save people from losing their houses, etc.


With all that being said, my life has been insanely boring these last few weeks. I've had a few nights out in between a lot of work. One night which was ridiculously awkward, but that friends, is for a post all on it's own.

It's a sad, sad Wednesday

"After all, if growing up is war, then the friends who grew up with you deserve a special respect. The ones who stuck by you shoulder to shoulder, in a time when nothing was certain, all life lay ahead, and every road led home"- Wonder Years

It's a tad nostalgic at my home tonight. Actually, it's more than nostalgic, it's just plain sad. Christmas is packed up and put away, but that's not the reason sadness is in the air tonight. This Christmas marked the last Christmas my roommate and I will spend together. No, not the boy roommate. The best friend roommate. In a couple of months if all goes well (fingers crossed) the boy and I will move into a house of our own (one that does not come with jumping spider/cricket creatures in the basement or leaking pipes) and live happily ever after...or so we hope. This also signals the end of my tenure as co-tenants with M.

Our friendship started off in the most peculiar way. She decided to entertain extracurricular affairs outside of her current relationship and I ended a 10 year relationship and immediately jumped into another. We bonded over bottles of wine, a horrible break-up with her ex, and my overall lack of interest in my then relationship, followed by two months of pretending I was single when I was actually dating the boy again. We worked together, played together, and eventually moved in together.

In an essence, M and I are the perfect couple. She cleans, I cook. She's emotional, I'm practical. I encourage her to act reckless and childish and she reminds me that I'm an adult and should act accordingly. We balance each other out like wine and tequila...oh wait, only in our world does that balance out.

While we were packing up, I reflected over our relationship. I rewinded to three years ago when weekdays and weekends drifted together. Dinner was whatever we felt like ordering from Panera that night and we lived two doors down from R (who I love just as much as M). We drank too much, laughed too much, and lived too freely. We got ourselves into some unfavorable situations every now and then but together we pulled through. As I sit here and lament life as it used to be I force myself to remember that life today is not unpleasant by any means. We have real jobs and steady, healthy relationships (probably for the first time ever). But we rarely find the time or money to dine out anymore. Wine bottles are opened only on the weekends and even then we aren't up until the sun rises anymore. This growing up business put a damper on our easy breezy lifestyle.

Things are changing once again in my world and I'm thrilled at all of the new adventures that lay ahead especially since a wonderful man will be accompanying me on this journey-but I know one thing for sure- my first home away from home was the apartment I shared with M and now my home is the house I share with M and... boy, I'm sure going to miss home when I move again...