Feeling Loved

Five more days in Indianapolis. Holy freaking cow. Seriously. Rationally, I know that I move on Saturday, but emotionally I can't believe that I'm leaving Indy. And my friends. Let's not forget that I'm leaving (most of) my friends.

This past Saturday night some of my favorite women got together for a Girls Night Out in downtown Indianapolis. One of them, a Purdue grad herself, really enjoys my impending Boilermaker status - a little TOO much, I think. We had a great evening of pedicures, shopping, a ride in an Escalade to dinner, fantastic guacamole, dancing at a club, and finally embarrassing the future vet on stage at a local piano bar. All in all too much alcohol was consumed and a fantastic evening was had by all.

I want to note that none of the above are things that I would usually spend money on. (well, except for the fantastic guacamole - we all know where MY priorities lie!) But the evening was so great that I'm left with the nagging feeling that I want to recapture part or all of it on a daily/weekly/monthly basis. I know that's not possible because the best part of the evening was the company - but I have that feeling nonetheless. I couldn't have asked for a better last Saturday night in the city I've called home for 15 years.

And, lest you think I'm getting too sentimental, I'm including a picture of me drinking my very first Boilermaker. (My advice? Don't drink one of these.)

Last week, the boy had to work really REALLY early in the morning. So when I woke up for work as usual, there was no one else in the house. Just me and the dogs. And... you guys... I sorta missed him. And by "sorta" I mean, I was all mopey as I went about the normal morning routine that I've enjoyed for the past three years. Alone. With no boy. I've GOT to shake that off, I know. I'm moving to Lafayette (ALONE!) and things will return to normal. And "normal" can not mean "lonely." But I thought I would mention this, if only to give my friend Jaclyn something to be happy about. (Don't think I don't know you're lurking out there, Jac.)

I get my keys tomorrow night, so the first carload of boxes will make their way up with me tomorrow. I still have a few things to pack, and two large things to get rid of (desktop computer and dining room table) but I think that once those two things are taken care of, I'll feel better about the move. After all, the kitchen is all packed, the living room is all packed, and I'm not packing my clothes. I'm hoping to just transport them on hangers. My friend zlionsfan offered to help drive up a carload of stuff. I was hesitant at first, thinking about his tiny hybrid and his ability to put much stuff in there. But then I realized that his tiny hybrid has the advantage of being entirely dog hair free, so he is now my official clothing mover. Despite the boy's profession of doom and gloom, I think I have this move pretty much under control. Not as under control as my cousin when SHE moved, but as close as a habitual procrastinator can possibly be.

Also? Tyson is still a terrible dog. Only now he's a stoned, senile, and stinky-breath terrible dog. Not going to miss him. Maybe miss the boy, but not his dog. So all is still right with the world.