3 pottermore accounts :: ravenclaw, slytherin, slytherin :: wtf
New year, new me, blah, blah, blah…
I joined the Hogwarts Running Club recently after walking my first 5K in November. I never thought I’d be interested in doing 5Ks, but I want to do more. Even if I have to walk. I mean, there’s runs at Disney (some of them even Stars Wars themed!) and then there’s the Universal 10K… plus the Viktor E Dash. Yeah, I’m kind of hooked.
I’m excited to be part of an organisation that does #somuchgood - logging the miles as I fight zombies (Zombies, Run! Couch to 5K) and applying them in an app that turns miles into donations.I even love the fact that the Ravenclaw House is made up of people who embrace book canon over movie canon - blue and bronze forever, baby!
Also of note, I’m enjoying my new commute. I can leave the house at 8:15 and be to work at 9, even with a stop at day care. I used to have to leave the house at 7 and HOPE I’d be to work by 8:45/9. This means that I’m going to pick up Ukrainian and Spanish (again), since I have that extra house in the morning.
Then, there’s the small issue of my Harry Potter obsession coming back with a vengeance. We’re going to the Celebration of Harry Potter next month / next year / end of January and I can’t wait to cosplay, even if it is as a just a boring Ravenclaw student. I might be playing in the Teen Wolf fan fic sandbox, but my heart belongs to HP and Drarry.
So… my three words, as weird as they are, are 5K, language, and fandom. Each has a SMART goal attached which is new for me, so we’ll see how it goes.
5K is tied to health. I want to finish Zombies, Run 5K app, complete all the HRC virtual runs, and do actual IRL 5K runs. I also want to make 2018 miles in 2018, even though it’s 5.5 miles/day. I know I can get there by December.
Language is multi-faceted, and might be better off if it were change to connect, but fuck it. I want to continue with my Ukrainian and connect with my culture. I want to learn Spanish and connect with my coworkers (and the majority of South Floridians!). I want to focus on The Hunger Games series and read all of them this year in Ukrainian. One a quarter. That gives me 4 months to get through a book. I don’t know how possible that is, but I’ll give it a try. Maybe the first book takes 6 months and the other two will go faster… who knows. I’m going to count the chapters of the first book and see if I can work it out.
Fandom may be the weirdest one yet, but it’s definitely the glue that keeps this year together. Hear me out. Through fandom, I can make new friends, grow personally / professionally (YES! TOTALLY!), create, and it will help me with the other two words.
So there you go…
Bring it on, 2018. I’m going to kick your ass… if I survive the next round of Darth Cheeto’s insanity.
these two, i swear to fuck
A great majority of our shit is at the house. There’s still a few things left at the flat, but we’re starting to unpack and settle in.
We have cable, we know what is going in what room, I even know what colours I’m painting most of the rooms.
Starting with that fucking Tinkerbell room.
The previous owners of this house replaced really nice hardwood floors with ceramic tile and then painted all the fucking walls with colours a shade or two too dark. As if that wasn’t enough, they painted one of the bedrooms purple and green and plastered a Tinkerbell border on the wall. I don’t know why, but Tinkerbell fills me with RAGE. I’ve taken little chunks of time here and there to begin the COMPLETE DESTRUCTION of that room and I feel so much better. We’re going to paint it a blue colour that is a little too vibrant, but I’m going to tone it down with some white furniture and I’m going to build out some window trim. (I don’t know what it is about Florida, but none of the windows have interior trim and they all have marble windowsills. *sigh* We’ll be changing the interior quite a bit.)
I already hired someone to come in and remove the largest two mirrors. I’ve also removed some of the ridiculous mirrored medicine cabinets that took up all the wall space in the master bath. No more fun house!
There’s been a white board on our fridge for years and without a doubt, someone with either draw a dick or scrawl the word “PENIS!” on it. I took a 5 minute break from unpacking to defile the clean white board, because reasons.
And now, it’s a home.
Knowing we were going to close on the 30th of November, led me to believe I would need to be distracted by NaNoWriMo. It was a decent thought - I attempt NaNo every year with varied results. This year I lost (27K out of 50K) because I dug into pintrest looking for ideas for the house. Different distraction. Not sure it was a better distraction because I became kind of obsessed with paint colours and board and batten trim.
Our last house was OURS. Designed by us. Built by us (or the crappy guy we hired, same thing). This house is THEIRS. From the terrible paint colours to the mirrors everywhere you fucking turn. (Like seriously. Did they work for the circus? It’s like a fucking fun house in there.) Our house was mostly builder white for 12 years and I liked it like that. Bringing colours in via couches and pillows and accessories is much better than painting loud colours on the wall. Been there. Done that. I prefer quieter colours now. This house is BOLD. Even when it’s meant to be neutral, it’s NEUTRAL.
So. Anywho. We closed. We went to Universal. I had a nice three days away from my life. Time to decompress from the stress of buying a house. (Because seriously?! I didn’t SIGN OFF on an email the bank told me to write and send? WHO SIGNS AN EMAIL? WITH INK? WTF?) And now it’s time to deal with the stress of moving.
Yeah. We were going to give them two months notice. Then that became a month and a half. Then that became December 31st. Then that became ‘before Christmas’. Then that became ‘before hubby goes to Ohio’, which then became the 16th, which then became “FUCK IT! LET’S MOVE NEXT WEEKEND!” because my mentally ill self is SO FUCKING HEALTHY RIGHT NOW that I can do this. (Not even close. Not. Even. Fucking. Close.)
I need a nap, a cookie, and a hug.
I digress… for NaNo, I decided to write Teen Wolf fan fic. Not a universe I’m well versed in, but what the fuck? Why not? Those 27K words were painful (OOH! CRAFTSMAN WINDOW TRIM) and not just because (GREY KITCHENS) I kept getting distracted by (THEY HAVE DYLAN O’ BRIEN GIFS!), fucking pintrest. They were just hard to get out. If I hadn’t needed the word count, I would have deleted half of it twice and started over.
As it was, I forgot my sleeping pills when we went to Universal. This is always a bad idea. In two nights, I got maybe six hours sleep. TOTAL. Which, of course, really helped with the bipolar thing. Also not helping the bipolar thing was the Christmas celebration at Universal. I’m a New England girl. I love me some winter. I’m happiest when I can watch the snow fall. So trying to wrap my brain around the fact that I’m in shorts and a t-shirt, watching a live action version of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” and then viewing a Christmas parade, in Florida, in December, and realising that I’m not going to see a snowflake this year… Yeah. Totally not helping with the bipolar thing.
Which is why I spent most of last night writing and re-writing and re-writing all 27K words in my head instead of sleeping.
I’m really hoping I get to sleep tonight because there’s no way I’m going to be able to adult at work tomorrow if I don’t…
i can’t find the street :: look for the one that looks like a penis
So. We have done the impossible.
We have found a fucking house!
Praise the Lord and send ten dollars as my father used to say.
We had such lofty ideas when we started this, so many things we didn’t want and didn’t want to budge on… and all of those things went by the wayside.
I present to you The House on Tallywhacker Terrace.
I wish that were the street’s real name, but it’s not. It did however get christened “Penis Street” when I couldn’t find it on Google Maps and the hubby told me to look for the street that looked like a penis. It wasn’t until I got bored at the MINI dealership on Saturday, that we happened upon Tallywhacker Terrace. The perfect combination of real address and the subtle dick joke. (We’re twelve years old, after all.)
It’s in a gated community with an HOA. In a sub-development called Lake Pointe. POINTE. WITH A FUCKING E. Because, I don’t know, we’re all fancy or shit.
But, there is one nice thing about Lake Pointe - the house is on a lake (Surprise!). 80’ of waterfront, motherfuckers! Granted, it’s not my lakeside cabin in the woods of Maine, but it’s waterfront and we don’t have to drag the kayaks all over creation to get onto the water.
We’re going to close on the house by the end of the month and then a few days later, we’re going back to Universal.
I’m going to miss winter, but I think I could get used to this sort of life…
even if it’s weird to be at the beach in November. Wearing a t-shirt and shorts.
omg, i think i will always love drarry headcanons like this
I called my boss a dick at work once. Twice. Um… maybe three times? I meant it lovingly (kinda) and he tells the story to EVERYONE.
Including my husband’s boss. (Who was amused that I found my tribe because it means the hubby won’t be leaving him anytime soon.)
I’ve been thinking a lot about the decisions I made to take this job because I’m working with someone who is an entire generation younger and took this job specifically because it was the only company that would hire him. He is fresh out of college and moved from NJ to take a chance on this job. He still lived at home and is now living with a family friend.
I had to sell my house, move my husband and leave what few friends I’d been able to make/reconnect with. I left coworkers behind who needed to have someone to vent to and I left behind a huge piece of my past. I’ll never be able to go to York, ME when I need to be near my father. I’ll never be able to go to Connecticut to yell at my mother’s grave… it’s like when I moved to Ohio for a job in the same industry, but…
It’s much easier this time. I don’t have the same regrets. I’ll miss the things I left behind, LIKE WINTER, but I get to spend 41 nights in my happiest of happy places and I can’t ask for much more. And that’s not even taking into consideration the limitless trips we can take to my other happy place. Going to Universal Orlando for Halloween Horror Nights with our CFO was definitely an eye-opening experience. Being able to go back to see Hogwarts lit up for Christmas and being able to go to the Celebration of Harry Potter without having to worry about flights and extended periods of time off of work.
What’s not making things much easier this time, is finding a fucking house.
I think we lucked out when we built our last house. It had everything we wanted in a package we could afford. Home hunting in South Florida isn’t nearly as easy. It’s a choice between dirt roads and land or zero lot lines and little yards. Don’t even get me started on the fucking HOAs and gated communities that are everywhere.
So far, we’re on house #3. We actually placed an offer on a house that needed a lot of work. We were willing to go full price rather than get into a bidding war, because we thought our issues with the house were cosmetic. It was determined some things were structural, so we walked. The second house we were thinking about writing an offer on had an HOA that would only allow pets 10 lbs and under. THAT IS NOT A PET.
House 3 is also in an HOA which prides itself on being relaxed. (So, our biggest issues would be paint colours and being able to do exterior things like replacing windows or installing a fence.) We drove through the neighbourhood again today and realised that, comparatively, this house is definitely a steal at its current price because it needs a lot of work. We’re willing to do the work, but I want to go back and get a second look at what needs to be done ASAP and what we can do over time before we make an offer.
It feels weird to be setting down roots here. Not that I think I’m leaving my job anytime soon, but I remember how hopeless I felt when I lived in Ohio. How terrible I felt when I bought that first house. I didn’t want to put roots down there, but I didn’t feel I had a choice.
I have a choice here - and I’m happy to stay. Even if it means I’ll never get to drive through another Nor’Easter again and have to deal with hurricanes instead.