By some miracle (and with a little help from a super cutie at Hy-Vee) I got enough boxes and found enough motivation to pack all my shit and have officially MOVED OUT.  Adios, adorable loft apartment only steps from downtown but a bit out of my price range.  It’s been fun.  I suppose I can no longer climb those bajillion fafillion stairs every day and call it exercise.

T-Bone and Papa K rolled in to help haul stuff to my storage unit, and NPH decided to come along for the ride.  And then I abandoned the poor kid with my parents while going to finally sign over the lease to our subletters.  I do hope they got along swimmingly.  Dad only called NPH the name of my ex-boyfriend a handful of times, and my mother got enlightened by Neil’s freak knowledge of the differences between Britain’s political parties.  So basically… I had to do minimal work and that. was. awesome.  Even awesome-er was LUNCH at WHICH WICH and I got my black bean patty with avacado, BBQ, sauerkraut, and some other stuff– it did not disappoint.  I was sta-HARV-ing because I hadn’t eaten for like… 14 hours.  WHAT?!  I know.  Unfathomable.

I am now sitting at 713, my new home, my future home (Dad, you HAVE to be on board with this now– NO STAIRS!!)  waiting for the going away festivities to start.  Oh and, NPH and I bought apple brats for dinner.  As if you didn’t see that coming.  AND a new flavor of BBQ sauce (since my Christmas gift of assorted sauces hasn’t arrived yet.)

OH, so last night, me and my main bitch Lauren (saying good-bye to her tonight SAD FACE) went to the always classy Piano Lounge for cheap martinis and to flirt shamelessly with the musician, who played guitar instead of the usual piano.  And he WINKED AT ME while playing SWEET CHILD O MINE.  Is there anything more?  Nope.  Stick a fork in me, I’m done.  Might kill myself because life doesn’t get much better than that (note: that was a JOKE. If you are a mandatory reporter, I assure you, I am not a self-harm risk.)  He was probably super turned on by the fact I was charging my phone in a random outlet I found in the center of the bar.  It wasn’t that crowded, don’t worry.

Alrighty tighty, Kiddos– I’m out like Adam Lambert.  I’ll make sure and heed the wisdom my father imparted to me before leaving today… “It’s your last night.  Don’t do anything silly, anything memorable.”  Oh don’t worry, I definitely won’t be remembering it

The irony is not lost on me that I HATE hospitals yet work in one.  I spent about ten hours in my place of employment today, though I went for moral support for a family member instead of a paycheck.  Holy suck balls it smells bad there.  And is creepy.  Thankfully it was nothing life-threatening and he was able to have an outpatient procedure sooner than they thought and I should be DONE with being in any medical facility for visitor/patient purposes for a while.  Luckily I brought my hospital badge so was able to save $1.69 on lunch.  Way to go, employee discount!

GUESS WHAT?!?!?!  Bestie might come visit on Saturday.  I am piss-my-pants excited.  Tomorrow my two girl besties from high school will finally return to our blackhole of suck hometown and we’ll get to go out for Savannah’s 21st birthday and have fun girl time and tell secrets and hang out in the Subway parking lot and be super awesome!  And now there’s a possibility that Bestie will get bored at home in Illinois, return to 713, then traverse to visit moi next weekend?!  Woah-uh, awesomeness overload.  Mostly we’re trying to pack as many activities (Stepbrothers reference, obviously) into our last two weeks of friendship as possible.  He would also really like to shoot guns off the back deck with my father since he’s in awe of Iowa’s lax gun laws in comparison to the ones governing our neighbors to the east.

My mother would very much like us (or even apparently just me, should he not be able to come) to attend church on Sunday morning.  Apparently it’s “the rules.”  I will not mention how “the rules” seem to change everytime I come home, depending on what “rules” she’s feeling like making up at the time.  We grew up going to church most Sundays and I’m definitely not opposed to it.  In college, however, sleeping in has trumped going to church about 98% of the time.  I am definitely more religious than the vast majority of my college friends, and this has nothing to do with my Sunday morning worship attendance.  When I come home it’s nice to go and see all the old ladies who watched me grow up, but our pastor who was BOMB-DIGGITY has left and now it’s just weird and people look at me like “Ohh the liberal from Iowa City is back, I wonder if she’s withchild.”  Not to mention if Bestie and I rolled in together, they would presume he and I are dating.  (Mom, you know me telling them “no, we’re not dating” would so not work on those Lutheran women.)  I can handle all of Iowa City and the tri-county area assuming this, but those church ladies are too much to handle.

Apparently there’s a large stink over Adam Lambert’s performance at the AMA’s last night.  I did not see said performance, a quick YouTube search doesn’t provide me with anything interesting.  He kissed a guy and simulated oral sex on one of his back-up dancers and grabbed his crotch a lot.  The first one is so Madonna and Britney, I seem to remember them getting a lot more praise than flack for that.  The third point of contention is straight outta Michael Jackson’s book, and the glove that did a lot of that very self-gropeage just got sold for an ungodly outrageous amount of money.  So really Adam Lambert just needs to get off his knees and those 1,500 angry phone calls to ABC needn’t have been made.  Personally I like the guy for some reason, and I haven’t ever really heard him sing.  His fellatio-centric stage time had to have been more entertaining than Jennifer “I couldn’t act or really sing my way out of my marriage to the most hideous man ever even if I tried” Lopez falling off the back of one of her dancers (which I did find video of online, and homegirl did a pretty good job of making it look like part of the performance.)

If you’re thinking about having kids, you should probably just adopt.  Don’t be selfish and have your own.  There’s plenty of perfectly good babies who need homes.

I’m re-reading A Million Little Pieces because I don’t know, I’m oddly fascinated by drug rehab I guess.  An excellent movie you should watch is 28 Days (with Sandra Bullock, not 28 Days Later with zombies.)  The phrase “chemical dependency” really rolls off the ol’ tongue.  I also really like the word “environmental,” in case you were wondering.