2 DAYS

I can't believe it ... it's 2 days until I move. I'm not sure how it got here, but it did and I can't seem to find enough time to see who I want to see and get what I need to do done. AND as if the emotional part wasn't difficult enough, I'm sick! Well, sort of. Actually it's only reinforcing my desire to leave, and by that I mean I have brutal allergies. The dry mold count is off the charts right now and I feel like I have a mix of cold/flu. Is it cold slash flu? Nope. It's my horrid mold allergy. So what I'm doing right now is alternating packing and sleeping. As of now I only have laundry to do, then some light cleaning. But, as always, even with that little to do it's more time consuming than it sounds.

Anyway, we move in the wee hours on Wednesday. I'll be sure to update the blog with pictures and our misadventures along the way.

Adios Austin!

Awkward Encounter at The Help

Yesterday evening I went with 6 friends to see The Help. A few of the girls had read the book prior to seeing the movie, so they had some inkling of what to expect. I'd only seen one preview - and I didn't know what to make of it because I'd only caught the tail end. It seemed almost as if it was going to be civil rights movement meets quirky joke-a-thon. Those concepts didn't quite seem to marry to me, but hey - at least they hadn't decided on seeing Final Destination 5 (GAG!)

When I got to the theater, it was overrun. Never did I think I'd see that many people waiting in line. Of course, it had been awhile since I'd been to a mall theater. One thing I'm going to absolutely miss about Austin is going to Alamo Drafthouse. I'm totally spoiled with that.

So basically it was like a mob had descended on the place and of course, everyone was there to see The Help. I think the last time I saw a crowded theater like that was when they released Twister into the Cinema 6 (back when there were only a few crappy theaters) in Amarillo in the early 90s and Len Slesik, the weather man, was there dressed in galoshes giving a severe weather warning over the loud speakers.

Almost immediately we realized that we, as a group, would not be able to sit together. So I separated from the other five girls with one brave companion and sat in the handicapped aisle.

DON'T JUDGE

The handicapped aisle allows for unhandicapped people too, ya know! So we sat down in two seats and next to me sat a woman and her father, who was in a wheel chair. Jennifer, my friend, and I were chatting along merrily when all of a sudden I noticed that there was a woman in my crotch.

I saw it happen, in reflection, but the immediate realization was...
"holy shit, this woman is in my crotch."

The woman in question was attempting to go get a concession before the movie started and was walking down the handicapped aisle with her companion, wildly gesturing with about five or six dollar bills in her hand - and didn't see the gentleman two chairs down from me in the wheelchair.

So while wildly gesturing (dolla bills waiving) to her friend, she managed to trip over his prosthetic leg and land face-first in my crotch. She was just as shocked as I was. In fact, she was so shocked she didn't move. She just looked up at me with her giant bouffant hairdo apologizing over and over in a heavy Southern accent. "I'm sorray! I'm just---I'm just so sorray!!!"

I obligatorily said "it's okay" about four times before she finally got up. She stood there for a moment - still in shock - the seconds ticking away like hours.... before she finally turned around ready to bolt away from this disastrous situation.

Unfortunately when she finally decided on the bolt she didn't look where she was going. Promptly after turning around she slammed into someone else like a pinball with bad poofy hair before finally escaping the theater to get her snack.

All I could think was "literally this is the most uncomfortable thing that has ever happened to me." Luckily, thank GOD, the previews started shortly after.

I was not prepared for The Help. It was fantastic and heartbreaking. I highly recommend it - I absolutely loved it. You should go see it! Just watch out for space cadet women who might unsuspectingly end up in your crotch.

12 Days Until the Move

I will, Alpine. I will. I'm so ready for the cooler weather! Yes, it's the desert, but it's been in the 80s there WITH RAIN. No rain here in Austin and for the past few weeks we've had temperatures around 107. I'm ready to go!

I Sawd a Gowzt

Ah, a lot of memories came up when reflecting on working at the Crystal River Inn - so I thought I'd share some more of them. Many interesting things happened during my duration there. For example, a raccoon died underneath one of the guest houses. Our guests began to complain of a smell, guessing that there was a gas leak or a clog in the pipes. I went out there to investigate, and immediately knew what was wrong.

You see, I was super into my forensic anthropology class and had done some field exercises with my professor. While I cited that as the source for my knowing the smell's origin, it was pretty easy to tell even for a layperson. The guests that had alerted us to the problem were old, and I'm sure they knew. They just wanted me to stumble upon the dead thing and be shocked and saddened. Little did they know they got ME. Someone who majored in dead things and badassery.

I looked all around before deciding to explore the outside of the house, and on my second turn around the property I noticed a small entrance to the crawl space. I went and found a giant flashlight, and then a man. You know, so the man could haul out whatever carcass it was. I may be somewhat of a tomboy outdoorsman, but look - if I can find someone else to fish out an animal carcass I'm going to do it. So I crawled under the house, and here's what I saw:



Only dead, smelly and covered with...well, you know. "Stage 3 decomposition" I proclaimed - and sent my man servant in after it.

Then there is Mo. There were two apartments that were part of the Crystal Inn property that were both rented out. One of the women that lived there had a dog, and the dog had puppies. All of them were immediately adopted, save one. The little puppy that was left behind didn't get chosen because she had some health problems. She was the runt, and needed some sort of gum medication. Well, my roommate Brittany had been expressing interest in adopting a dog for months - and this little pup was perfect, I thought, and presented herself at just the right time. And she was TINY which was good because our apartment wasn't exactly what you would call big. The woman sold her to me under the condition that she would agree to pay for the first two months of medication. I was very proud of myself for that negotiation.

I brought the pup home and Brit was elated. She was so easy to love, tiny and infirm. Adorable. We named her Mo short for Captain Morgan. Because we were college students and alcohol was the coolest thing we could think of to name her after. But Mo quickly grew up and she was the biggest holy terror of a dog that either of us had ever seen. Even the guys we knew hated her, and as I've discovered men have a slightly higher patience tolerance of dogs. They regularly suggested having a barbeque with Mo as the main course.

She WRECKED our apartment. The carpets were ruined, the couches were ruined, she even ate my CHI straightening iron (SWEET JESUS NO!). Her favorite thing on earth was to streak back and forth as fast as the speed of light down our tiny hallway, sending all of my carefully arranged runner rugs flying up on the walls and rendering our artwork askew. I swear some days we'd come home to this:



Then Brittany and I would just look at each other, collectively say "eff this" and go get some cold beer and sit by the pool instead, until we'd gathered up the courage to face it.

However, Mo finally grew up to be a REALLY GREAT - and more importantly - chilled out dog. Though I think she may still feel guilty about her defiant adolescent years...



Without question, the most noteworthy occurrence at the Crystal River Inn I had was the ghost.

Across the street from the main house, were a couple of rooms in a historical house that the CRI annexed. Downstairs there were two apartments that were unaffiliated with us. But when you walked up a very long and narrow staircase there were three small efficiency apartments that shared a breakfast bar. Those were ours, and in constant occupation in the summer. Every year the CRI allows guests to choose a murder mystery party package. It's super fun. They have multiple scenarios they use, and guests and employees and the owners are all involved. There are cigars, chocolates and brandy in the parlor awaiting the guests upon their arrival - the whole act.



Anyway, we had a group due to check in at 4pm. So at 2:30pm I ran over to the annex to make sure the beds were straightened and nice, the rooms scented, and the breakfast bar fully stocked. The first room I went to looked good, so I just freshened it with some potpourri. The second room, I decided, needed some pillow fluffing. So I walked over to the bed and arranged the pillows the way I liked them - and began fluffing. All of a sudden, I saw a gentleman at the door. He was wearing a bowler hat and a suit. He was starring at me, expressionless. Then, he turned and walked from the doorway towards the breakfast bar.



Because of how he was dressed, it was obvious he was one of the murder mystery crew... and he was an hour and a half early. Somewhat exasperated, I sat the pillow down and began talking. "I'm so sorry your room isn't ready sir..." was as far as I got. I was going to tell him that the brandy and chocolates were waiting across the street in the parlor... but he was nowhere to be seen. I would have heard him going down the staircase, I thought to myself. I'd only seen him seconds ago. There's no way he could have already left.

The hair on my neck began to prickle, and I felt like I was about to have a heart attack I was so scared. I left everything - including the room keys and bolted for the main house. I couldn't find anyone. Finally I went to the laundry room, where I found Alicia from the previous blog entry loading sheets into the washer. Sputtering, I told her I thought I just saw a ghost. I set up the scenario, but she cut me off. She said "did he have a bowler hat on?"

......


I lost my balance and fell into the laundry room wall.

Me: what?
Alicia: he had a bowler hat on, right?
Me: yes....
Alicia: he's a regular.
Me: a REGULAR????
Alicia: I've seen him too, we all have. We just don't tell new employees.


I went directly home after Alicia consented to finishing my work at the annex. I never went over there without having another person with me, but I thankfully never saw him again.

....and I probably won't sleep tonight.



YOU STAY AWAY FROM ME GOWZT!!!!