Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Random Thoughts

Have you ever seen that list of stressful life changes and the equivalent years each one takes off of your life? (or is it the amount of time you need to recover from them??) From what I remember of it, I figure I'm gonna live to the ripe old age of, say...53?

a. I'm getting married. In 27 days. At age 42. For the first time. I love and adore my wonderful fiance. I've lived alone for 11 years. I won't be living alone anymore. I will be sharing space.

b. My fiance has 6 children. I love and adore them. I've never had children before. I will be sharing space.

c. I'm moving to England. That means I can't rent a U-Haul and take it all with me. That means I'm purging 98% of all my wordly goods. They won't be in my shared space.

d. I'm moving to England. That means that my family and friends aren't moving with me. Personally, I think that's inconsiderate. Luckily, there's email.

e. I'm moving to England. That means I have to learn to drive on the left side of the road, sitting in the right front seat, driving a stick. I've never driven a stick for any sustainable length of time. I'm not sure that the English want me on their streets, cluttering up their roundabouts, hitting random sign posts that are rudely placed too close to the side of their inconceivably narrow roads. It's a good thing the English have a habit of placing a big red "L" placard on the backs of vehicles driven by new drivers. Helps people be patient. I will need them to be. I try my best not to think of it as a big red LOSER sign.

f. I'm moving to England. That means different money. Money that in my head gets doubled to dollars everytime I purchase something, which in turn sends me into fiscal-panic hyperventilation, which leads me to make hasty decisions, like the one that says I should and could reasonably subsist solely on stale crackers that are on sale for 57 pence. (I state firmly and emphatically here that this is in no way due to the actions or attitudes of my future husband who is incredibly kind and generous in every way, but I think more due to (g) which follows.)

g. My job ends in two days. I've had a job for 20 years. I've always had a job. I've always taken care of myself. I've always had my own money. I've never had to ask anyone for money. No one has ever known what I spend my money on but me. Until now. I believe my days of carefree money spending are over. Heaven help me.

h. My job ends in two days. There goes my 10% discount at the BYU Bookstore.

i. My job ends in two days. No more "A" parking lot sticker. Relegated to visitor parking like the great unwashed and unprivileged. I am not the unwashed. I am not the unprivileged. I will simply never park on BYU campus again. Ever. (Living in England will help.)

j. My job ends in two days. I will never see some of these people again. There are two people here that make me think that's a jim-dandy idea. There are too many others here that make me think this is a really sad idea.

k. My grandmother has been brought home to live out the last few days of her long and eventful life. Very recent strokes have left her with a mind that works but other parts that don't which leads us to the present state of affairs. It is painful to see my vibrant and fiesty Grandma reduced to a woman who looks older and more frail than she was ever meant to look. It is poignant to see her surrounded by so many family members who love her and will miss her. I hope Grandpa comes for her soon so she will not suffer long.

l. My fiance is in England. I try to be a good little soldier, staying busy with wedding plans and Christmas shopping and purging and packing my house, and I try not to think about it too much, but the truth is, the separation is difficult for me. You'd think that I would be used to being alone after being single for so long, but the opposite is true. Being with him is so joyful and calming and grounding and amazingly fulfilling that being away from him feels almost too much for me to handle anymore.

So, if the list is correct, the stress of these things should kill me soon. I just happen to believe to the contrary, that the very things predicted to kill me will actually help me live longer and will make my life an amazing and wonderful adventure.

Here's to stressful life events and all the havoc they leave in their wake. Things would be so boring without them...and I don't tolerate boredom well. Thank heavens.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Umm...What's taking so long??

I've been patient. I've been waiting probably an hour now and I'm still not listed in Master Fob's The Fobcave. I'm sad, but not despondent. Not yet, anyway.

Well, Well, Well... She finally did it.

This is my question: Why in the sam hill am I doing this??

Answer A. It will save time in the future when people ask me for an update on My Grand English Adventure. They will write to me and say, "QZ, how are things in Jolly Old England?" and I will reply with much brevity, "Go to my blog." Then I will push the send button feeling quite clever until I realize, to my horror, that earlier in the day, I asked that lovely young woman in front of the John Lewis department store where she got her cute pants instead of asking her where she got her cute trousers. Then I will not feel clever at all. Then I will also suddenly understand her look of confusion and hasty retreat. And then I will have to blog about it, thus revealing to all three of my faithful readers that I, Queen Zippergut, have STILL not quite yet adapted to these quirky English ways.

Answer B. All my FOB friends, their spouses and significant others, and their other non-FOB friends (who think they're as close to the FOBs as I am, but aren't) are doing it. It's just plain wrong for me not to be a part of the great universal conciousness known as The Fobcave, even if I am tardy in the acceptance of blogging as a life choice.

That is all. For now. Maybe.

Signed, with grace and great aplomb,
Queen Zippergut

P.S. I love to use the response"Genius!". I picked it up from Celeste, erstwhile student employee. Well, technically she's still my student employee (until Friday, December 2), but I like to think of her more as a really good friend who shows up at 8:00 every morning and hangs out with me until 11:00 and then gets paid for it every two weeks. Wait. I used her name. That's not right, is it. Crap. Someone get me a copy of the Blog Rulebook, pronto.