Jenny, Jenny, who can I turn to?

Subject:	deep-sea diver who is swimming with a rain coat
Time:	9:28 am.
Mood:	accomplished.
Music:	Savage Garden -- I Want You.

Late Thursday night/early Friday morning, several tornadoes touched down, about a mile north AND south of us. I had fallen asleep on the couch, in nothing but my underwear. Jorge shakes me awake, as lightening flashes about five times outside the window, and gravely informs me, "Jenny, you need to put a shirt on." Apparently, his biggest fear of a tornado coming our way was that in a scramble to get downstairs to the storm shelter (the LAUNDRY ROOM, ffs), we definitely wouldn't have time to get dressed, and he didn't want me showing my ta ta's off to the neighbors.

After that, we lost power for the rest of the night. Got several calls from his parents to make sure we were OK, and then slept fitfully for the rest of the night, all the while I'm having nightmares of funnel clouds coming down the street. Around 9 AM, the power comes back on, and shortly afterward, we get another call from his parents.

APPARENTLY, (and I type this with such sarcasm), the storm was SO BAD, SOOOO BADDDDDD near them, that their newly purchased patio furniture had been carried off, the basketball hoop was in the middle of the street, and the neighbor's wooden fence had COMPLETELY crumbled, and the model's metal fence had also crumbled. PLEASE can you come over and help us pick up the mess? PLEASE. Jorge Sr. had taken the day off to clean up, it was THAT BAD.

The reality: they had ordered a 2 ton shipment of stones to fill in the garden beds surrounding the house, and it arrived that morning. Big fucking surprise, but the only damage from the storm was that the basket ball hoop had moved a grand total of three feet across the driveway, the patio furniture had miraculously returned, and the damage to the neighbor's fence was a tiny, very easily repaired section. So after taking a few minutes to take apart the basketball hoop and bring it in the garage, we spent the next two hours moving rocks around. with only two shovels, and ONE wheel barrow. oh joy of joys.

I don't think I would be as angry right now if they had just called and said, "Hey, we got our rocks in today and there's more than we realized. can you come and help?" instead of pretending it was a dire emergency and they really needed our help ASAP. Here's the thing: Today was the day Jorge and I had set aside to finally finish cleaning the apartment. We were going to completely clean out the back bedroom of all the empty garbage, his old floor mat and broken desk, and all the other moving garbage we've been too lazy to do. We had furniture to bring up, ad set up. We had a ton of laundry I wanted to finish. And to top it all off, we had people coming over that evening, and Jorge was going to grill. I had decided to make bread, so that I could have a pretty braided loaf for company. There were a dozen things that needed to be done. so we decided -- get up early, get everything done. Instead, we ended up HOURS behind schedule. In order to have bread ready before dinner time, you need to start it before noon. I didn't get the bread raising until four o'clock, all told. I didn't bake it off until nine.

I hate them hijacking our days with manipulation and lies. Wednesday, Jorge and I were off, but we decided just to relax and take it easy, and planned on doing everything in one big go, on Friday. If I had known they were going to steal our Friday morning and afternoon (and they had known about the rock delivery for a week now), I would have planned to do half of what we needed on Wednesday.

WHINE WHINE WHINE. And Jorge Sr. is notorious for scratching/running his finger down sunburned backs. I have to go over today, for Jorge's grandmother's birthday party, while Jorge works. I am so ready to throw the biggest fucking tantrum ever if he so much lays a finger on me. whine. Whinewhine. Whine whine whine.

OK, I'm done.

(on the plus side, we managed to finish everything, and we actually have a second bedroom. YAY. I also found my very old Savage Garden CD, yay x2)

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Time:

10:17 pm.

Today sucked.

It started with an angry phone call at 6:30, a hot mile and a half way through unshaded, unsidewalked road, several lectures. The mid-day included being walked in on by the maintanence and AC repair guy (and while they saw nothing, I'm pretty sure they knew exactly what was going on in our bedroom), COUNTLESS PHONE CALLS further interrupting our second, third, fourth and fifth attempts at, erm, finishing up. And this evening rounded out with his parents inviting themselves up, and his father asking why the hell the apartment was so, quote, "cluttered". and "isn't that nice." at the bag of chips left on the coffee table. Nevermind that the apartment is upside down because my stuff from Maine just got here, I'm breaking down boxes and sorting in the living room, AND YOU STOLE OUR DAY OFF WHEN WE WERE GOING TO CLEAN. No, I have to deal with your upturned nose at my apartment.

And to top it all off, his mother dumped a project in Jorge's lap, at nine in the evening, and asked, "Can you have it done by tomorrow morning?" and he's pulling his hair out as I type.

fuck that. I'm tired of not being good enough for his family and I'm tired of their ridiculous standards and I'm tired, tired, tired.

(PS: but I did got to talk to chantel for a good long while and that was lovely, until I had to hang out because lol-inlaws!)

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Time:

9:46 am.

So every year, I get disgusting headaches around this time. I always thought it was stress, because of finals, because of family drama, and so on. But now I'm thinking that everybody has been right, and it's allergies. I've never suffered from allergies before, so it was odd. I've been utterly useless these past few days, crying off and on, and prickly to poor Jorge. Last night, I drank a fillion cups of tea, sat quietly in dim light, lit some pretty smelling candles, and just kinda relaxed. And most importantly, took some Claritin. Today, my head is mostly clear, if a bit heavy, and it's been the first morning I've woken up feeling well. It's been madly storming all week, with a terrible wind that batters the windows, and today it's finally 57 degrees and sunny; Jorge has the day off. Life is good.

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Time:	9:08 am.
Mood:	cheerful.

Jorge had to work all Valentines day, and it was a rough day at that, so when he called me on his way home and announced, "I have a surprise for you," I got a little excited. He comes home, with an office depot bag in hand, and my heart has already dropped to my toes. Sometimes, he'll come home with a small treat for the two of us, a kit kat bar for me, a reese's bar, and two of those tiny and overpriced coffee drinks.

"Tada!" he says, pulling out the reese's bar, and all I can do is try not to say, "Oh, thanks Mr. Enciso." His father is notorious for buying a treat or present for someone that only he likes -- cherry pie, carrot cake, etc. The most recent example being that Jorge's birthday cake was carrot, something only Jorge Sr enjoys.

Anyway, he fumbles around, hands me the kit-kat, and the two drinks, and tells me to go put them in the fridge. I can't have possibly hide my disappointment very well, and slump over to the fridge. I turn around, and he's brandishing a ridiculously huge red heart. And I melt. Awwww. And then smack him for being a sneaky son of a bitch.

Then we get dressed and go to an amazing restaurant he had picked out. He even ordered a bottle of wine and I had to be the grown up and try it in front of the waiter because I'd seen my mom do the whole sniff and taste thing, and he hadn't.

So, small and quiet, but still the best Valentines day, ever, and the best boyfriend too.

ETA: Also, I was not near the shootings where and when they happened. I appreciate the concern. Everyone on my end is OK.

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Subject:	Barking spiders?
Time:	12:16 pm.
Mood:	amused.

When Jorge is very tired, he doesn't remember anything. But that doesn't stop us from having conversations.

Back when we first started living together, he rolled over in the middle of the night, farted loudly enough to wake me up, giggled, and stated, "Barking spiders."

Last night, we had been out drinking with some friends of us from school. He, again, rolls over (he has the courtesy and presence of mind to at least aim it away from me), farts, then announces, "Expired drinking invitation, that's what you get." I ask, "The fuck?" he repeats, emphatically, "*Expired* drinking invitation," like I'm a moron for not getting it first time, then "BAAAAAARRRRRAH" to imitate the pooting sound. I tell him about all of this, this morning, and he remembers nothing.

I sure pick winners.

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Subject:	stuff and stuff
Time:	3:55 pm.

I've been kinda MIA for awhile.

Lewtz:

a bunch of clothes from Jorge's mom. apparently it's the tradition to get each family member two outfits for Christmas. I got some really nice shirts, and nice dress pants, a dress skirt, and a very short skirt that Jorge more than approves of. A tea kettle, mini tea press, several different kinds of tea. A set of really nice stainless steel cooking utensils, and more linens than I know what to do with: a bunch of bath towels, a fleece blanket in both red and green, and a set of flannel sheets in red and green.

From his aunt and grandmother, a nice bracelet that's the same set that Katherine and Joya (Jorge's aunt) got, and some candles. From his Aunt Joya and Uncle Jaycee, two gift cards (one for me, one for our household).

From Chantel, we got a box of home made goodies, which came just in time for a bad day so Jorge and I hoarded those to ourselves out of spite.

From Jorge, I got a Zune, which is something I've been eyeing for ages and wanted, but never bought. Yay. I made a big production and squealed.

Christmas at his house, with his family, is so crazy and over the top. I was informed that this year was "lowkey". It was very overwhelming. Their presents don't fit under the tree, but spill out into the living room itself. There's also a ton of people: me, Jorge, Katherine, Mrs. Enciso, Joya and Jacyee, their son Dominick, and his aunt Maria and grandmother. Mr. Enciso is still in Colombia, for a few more weeks.

The drama of the day was earlier: I didn't eat all day Christmas Eve, because of all the running around, and Jorge was at work until 4. I guess I've really gotten used to him taking of me, to making sure I take care of myself. So, I hadn't eaten and it was around 3, when I arrived at the Enicso house, with Jaycee and Joya. I was starving, so I ate a breakfast bar. I don't know what happened exactly, but when I went outside into the cold to get something from the freezer, I was suddenly sick to my stomach. So, in front of everyone, I dashed inside and ran to the bathroom, where I promptly puked, three times, where everyone could hear me. Joy. The first thing I get asked is if I'm pregnant. Even after assuring Mrs. Enciso that I most certainly was not (I had had my period three days before, and take my pill religiously and on time), she called Jorge and asked if he would pick me up a pregnancy test -- "they are cheap, after all." Later on, at dinner, Jorge announces that he has news. His aunt (who wasn't there earlier for my puking) abruptly asks, "Is Jenny pregnant?!"

(Actually, he's getting a promotion at OfficeDepot, to dept. manager. YAY!)

In other news, I got accepted at the local college, and just need to sign up for classes now. All is good. In other other news, I'm sick, sick sick. A lot of congestion and problems with my sinuses. I'm tired and icky. But happy. Yesterday morning, I found a note on the kitchen table, and two sets of pills laid out for me. One was labeled "Morning pills (take these now)" and "Afternoon pills (take these later)" and "Eat me!" with an arrow pointing to a piece of pizza. I have the best boyfriend ever.

and now, I'm watching Fruit's Basket with Katherine. :D

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Time:

11:15 am.

In moving in the Saturday before last, we ran into a huge issue with Jorge's queen sized mattress/boxspring and the narrow stairwell of our apartment building. Basically, his parents had bought him a really pricey set, which has a frame inside the mattress itself, to give it better support. Unfortunately, this means the mattress would not fold or give at all -- making it impossible to get it through the stair well. Don't comment with suggestions, trust me, we tried everything.

Anyway, we've been sleeping on a borrowed air mattress, and it's kinda been hell on both of us. Waking up stiff and sore, waking up multiple times during the night. Finally, on Thursday, we walked into a mattress store, and pretty much picked out the least expensive full sized mattress, courtesy of his grandmother. It was delivered Monday, and while Jorge was at work, I kept walking into the bedroom and frowning at it. I had a full back in Maine. While it was perfect for me, Jorge is a tall guy, and I thrash around a lot.

Monday night, we crawled in, and I dunno... the bed doubled in size maybe once it was made up and us in it. It's perfect. More comfortable than mine back in Maine, more perfect than any other bed I've slept in.

We were at his parents' place last night, helping out because Katherine had a snow day and they didn't want her left alone all day. It was late when we left, around 9, due to tons of delays on their part. His parents are a whirlwind of activity and talking and asking favors and piling on tasks. I was getting antsy and anxious, and it wasn't until we left, and pulled out of the driveway, that it actually occured to me that we weren't staying there -- we were going home and I got to sleep in my nice new mattress with my fantastic boyfriend, with no chaperone or supervision.

It was kinda awesome.

We bought a mini rose bush, with all the buds tight and closed. I'm doing my best not to kill it, and the buds are beginning to open. Today, we're getting a second dresser, for me. There's a small furniture store that's going out of business, and we stopped in on a whim, and found a dresser that matches his bedroom set, for super super cheap. This means I can get all of my clothes up off piles on my suitcase, and I can finally pack that away.

so, I guess, my point is that everything is gradually coming together, and I love it. Jorge and I are still in the honeymoon phase of our relationship/living together, but I'm actively aware of that and we're transitioning pretty nicely. The few fights we've had usually revolve around his parents and the CRAZY, and I think we're both learning just to leave that subject alone.

to sum up: I love my apartment and my bed, I love my boyfriend, and life is pretty good right now.

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