Three weeks

So, I sent out a letter to all my clients Friday telling them I’m leaving. I’ve already had quite a few calls for appointments, so hopefully I’ll be a busy bee and make lots of money before I go!

I reserved a moving truck today. It’s funny how certain things make my stomach all fluttery. This was one of them. Then they told me how much it was going to cost to rent the truck, and I almost threw up. It’s obscene, that’s all I’m gonna say.

My poor kitty Lexie is not handling things well. I think she’s stressing from all the boxes/packing going on. She sticks by me like glue, and she has runny stools. I feel so bad for her.

For a knitting blog, I don’t seem to get any knitting done. And Stitch-In is tomorrow. I think I’ll try to get back to my Frost Flowers and Leaves shawl…



Four weeks!

That’s right! I’ll be moving in four weeks. I sent in the application for an apartment on Monday, they called today and said they have a unit on hold for me! I’m excited and nervous as hell.


I went to Stitches Midwest today, which was fun. The market was a lot smaller this year, and I didn’t buy very much. A skein of ribbon yarn, a mug with a little sheep and “Knit Happy” on it, and a few patterns. I brought my copy of Folk Shawls with and had Cheryl Oberle sign it. And I bought a few things for a friend on Ravelry.

They are filming an episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition in one of the neighboring towns, so our town’s been buzzing. Ty Pennington has been spotted at a few of our local eateries, and I heard he was at the baseball field pitching to the kids. Last I heard, David Duchovney is supposed to be coming out to work on the house at some point. I guess that’s a new thing for next season, having a celebrity come and work on the house.

We have a court date for the divorce, the 24th of this month. I am going to send my apartment application in on Monday, and talk to my dad and stepmom about setting a moving date! I am going to have a million things to do in the next month.

I really need to get some packing done this weekend. And try to get more boxes. The bookcase and DVD rack are empty, but that’s about it. Next up are the picture frames and knicknacks.


As I am getting ready to start cleaning and packing my stuff, I’m trying to decide which stuff gets hauled and which stuff gets pitched. I have a cat perch (looked like this, but with two perches stair-stepped and no tunnel) that I know I want to get rid of, but figured it would be more of a hassle to try and sell it than it’s worth. Finally it hit me: donate it to the local animal shelter! I just dropped it off, along with a cat bed and a bunch of toys. Now a whole bunch of kitties will get use out of them. I smiled the whole drive home.


Just got home today from (super fucking hot) Arizona. When I arrived Friday, they were of course having a record high of 115 (bazillion) degrees. Saturday both my Dad and stepmom went apartment hunting with me, and what an exhausting day that was! I wanted to see as many as possible, which for me was about 6, but in one day when it’s over 110 degrees is pretty damn good. I have it narrowed down to two, it just depends what the prices are in a few weeks when I apply if I go with my first choice or not.

After apartment shopping, the fam dropped me off at my sister Angela’s to spend the night. I wanted…nay, needed…to take a cold shower, but could not get cold water for the life of me. It was pretty sad….a sweaty fat girl crying in the shower because there was no cold water. I finally just wet a washcloth and fanned it a bit to try to cool it down before using it. The whole while thinking man, I can’t wait to move here! Of course I tell Angela this when she gets home, and she says “Oh, you should have called me. You just have to let it run for a while to get the hot water out of the pipes.” Gah.

We went to Island Burgers for dinner, meeting up with my favorite Raveler Auntie Jimbo. We had such a good time hanging out! I’m surprised we were able to eat, we were gabbing so much. I had my sis take pictures, and of course we had to ham it up:



Sunday was a bit more relaxed. Ang and I went to her friend Liz’s for a while, then she and I were off to Changing Hands bookstore. Then it was back to my Dad’s house, and to Macayo’s for dinner.

Backing up a bit, when we went to Liz’s, I met her adorable 3 year old daughter Gracie. Angela had a rough road getting Gracie to like her, but not me! I sat down at the table, Gracie sat next to me, stuck out her hand, and said “Hi, I’m Gracie. Nice to meet you!” Angela was standing behind her, with jaw dropped. I shook Gracie’s hand, and I was OK in her book. The whole rest of the day Angela was bemoaning the fact that Gracie warmed up to me so much faster. It was hilarious.

The flights were pretty uneventful (which is always good). We did arrive back in IL 15 minutes earlier than scheduled, to which the flight attendant quipped over the loudspeaker, “We have arrived 15 minutes early, so if you’re on another flight of ours and it’s late, consider us even!”


The drama!

Holy fuck have I had a weekend. B never came home from work Friday night, which just pissed me off because I thought he hooked up with some skank and spent the night with her. But when he didn’t come home on Saturday, by 5:00 I was a bit worried. I looked at his stuff downstairs and he didn’t have his meds with him. A little more worried, I called his mom. She had texted him Friday night, and at 3am got a text from him saying “Not doing well”. Calls to his phone went right to voicemail. I called the hospital, no record of him there, so I called the police and reported him missing.

Talked with a very nice officer, B’s mom and sister came over to sit with me for a while, I called B’s dad, who went out in search of his vehicle. Everything was quiet for a bit, MIL and SIL left, I watched TV and waited to see if he would come home. FIL called at 11:30pm and said he thinks he found B’s vehicle at the hospital. I go screaming over there, and sure enough, it’s his. I go in and talk to the lady at the ER desk. She says they have no record of him being admitted. I say BUT I AM HIS WIFE AND I HAVE REPORTED HIM MISSING TO THE POLICE AND HIS VEHICLE IS IN YOUR PARKING LOT WHERE IS HE. She says she has no information to give me. I call the police and they send the officer over. He goes in and talks to the same ER lady. She tells him that B admitted himself Friday night, and they transferred him to the next town over. WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME THIS??? No matter what is going on with him, if people are out looking for him and reporting him missing, you at least tell the people freaking out the bare minimum information so they know he’s OK and being looked after.

So he is in the hospital, apparently he was contemplating suicide and admitted himself. I have been a mess since last night worrying about him, because I still care about him even though he doesn’t love me. He called his mom and asked her to bring him some things (which I had to get together). He never told them we were divorcing, so I told them everything. When he was talking to his mom, she asked him “What is going on that got you here?” He said “Stress” She asked “About the divorce?” He said “Yes”. I call bullshit. He is doing this for drama. I have been the one doing everything regarding the divorce, on top of a million other things I have to get in order to move. His life is work and school, same as it has been for a while now. And HE wanted the divorce, what is he stressing over all of a sudden that would make him want to kill himself?

I talked to my friend Becky, and with some tough love, she made me realize how he’s manipulating me with this shit. And it’s so true. He knows something like this will make me want to come running to take care of him and be there for him like I’ve always been. But all I could do was sit by the phone and hope he, or someone, would call to tell me what was going on. Or that he would want me there, realizing finally what he was throwing away. He doesn’t want me around though. He called his mom. So his family needs to step up and take care of him. It’s not my place anymore. At least I know he’s all right, and is getting help (hopefully he’ll follow through and get REAL help for his issues), and his family is ready and willing to step up and be there for him even though all he’s done is push them further and further away lately.


So, the whole letter-writing idea went bust. My school won’t do it. I have to wait until after I move, then take 50 hours of continuing ed classes before I can get my license. I have to wait until after the move because the schools around here (and none are close, BTW) only have piddly classes…5-8 hours a pop. The school in Scottsdale has classes that run up to 25 hours, so I can get my hours done in two 3-day weekends. It doesn’t make the situation any better, but it’s the only solution I have at this point.

It is going to be mucho scary to move without a job (I may try to line up a part-time job or something, not sure yet. Methinks the school should be forced to give me a job, since they can’t be buggered to write a measly letter for me). Depending on the timing, I may be able to just live off the settlement money until I get my license, if all this takes place within a month. If my moving date screws with the first class, I will HAVE to find a job, because it will then take 2-3 months to get my license.

A friend asked me how long it will take after I finish my hours to get my license, and I formulated a plan. I will make a scene at the school so they messenger my transcript, ink still wet, over to the licensing board. I will then sit in the office every day, knitting, until they process my paperwork and can then hand me my license. Maybe I should also bring my iPod and sing songs as loudly as I can. Maybe that will make them work a wee bit faster!

After all my doom and gloom, I will leave you with a photo of me with my Stitch-In peeps, looking all happy together:


Front row: Marilyn, Linda, Heather, Lenore, Janan. Back row: Kathie, Eileen, Becky, Linda, Becky, Ollie, Heather, and me.