Saying Goodbye

I've been a nomad for all of my adult life. The longest I've lived in a single city is here, in Tampa, for five years. The longest I've lived in any particular dwelling is in the home I'm in the process of leaving. Other than that, I've moved from apartment to apartment; city to city. Quite regularly.

So I've become adept at saying goodbye. I have friends strewn all over the United States, and around the world. Friends from college, grad school, law school, DC and now here. I will make new friends in Atlanta, and I will rejoin old ones.

So how do I feel about saying 'goodbye' to the place where, for lack of a better word, I grew up. Where I went from being a free-roaming single 20-something to an adult, married with kids and a mortgage, and driving a minivan. (!!!) I don't know.

On the one hand, Tampa has brought me a lot. I have matured. I have mellowed. I have gotten a handle on my depression. Mostly.

But on the other.... I've suffered through a hideous job situation. I've dealt with it, and a lot of the reasons behind it are from either my husband's unstable work situation or my own inertia. I looked, casually, for other jobs, but never pulled it together to find one. In the end, it became easier to stay, especially once I realized I had an opportunity to leave this city for good.

And therein lies the other problem - Tampa has never been 'home' or anything approaching it. I've never indoctrinated myself into a community here. I never found 'my people'. My neighbors are plenty nice, and they were great to have as neighbors. But 'friends'? I have very, very few.

I don't know if it's me, or if it's just the fact that I've felt like a square peg trying to fit into a round hole here. I think we bought in the wrong community, and I know I worked at the wrong job for too long. But I still don't know if things would have been any different had we located to South Tampa.

Now we're moving to a place I've wanted to live my entire life. As long as I can remember, I've been in love with the old Druid Hills neighborhood, with its bungalows and 40's-style ranches. And big trees, quiet yards, peaceful parks.... And good schools. The residents, also, are very liberal, and it's a nice enclave of 'blue' in the sea of red that is Georgia.

And I do hope that I can make things work. That I can overcome my self-conscious nature, and get out of my shell a little better. I hope that I can find people I can relate to - working moms and professionals. Folks who are genuinely committed to their kids, but who also recognize that their kids need to be a major PART of life, not a person's entire life.

So I bid Tampa 'goodbye' tomorrow. Probably a little after noon. And I think it's for the better.

Out of touch...

I don't even have time to read other blogs, let alone update mine. Sigh. I hate this - I was *just* starting to feel like I have new friends inside the computer, and I have to neglect them for several weeks. I'm sorry! :-(

Deep breath and back at it...

I left on a business trip Wednesday, and I finally returned to my office today. Suffice it to say that moving is a total and complete nightmare, and I absolutely loathe the process. But I'm back in my office for this last week, and I'm going to be swamped, of course. Then I'm on vacation for a week, and I spend the following week getting settled into my new home. So I won't be updating very frequently, I don't think. You never know.

Nephew?

My sister is having a boy. This is very confusing to me. She's always been the girly-girl, and you just expect her to have two tow-headed girls with big bows.

Now there's a boy in the mix? To be picked on by M&M and Miss Baby, relentlessly, I'm sure.

In related news, the sono showed everything was just hunky-dorey, which is awesome.

But a boy? Break out the pee pee teepees.

A Day for Daddy

As a little girl I knew that, no matter what happens, Daddy will fix it. He always did. He still does today, truthfully, if I let him. What's even more wonderful is to know that Miss M and Miss Baby can have that same security. That no matter what, Daddy will fix it.

Two wonderful Daddies. A whole lot of happy girls (when you throw in my mom, my sister and my niece). We are all so very lucky. I feel very blessed.

Happy Fathers' Day!

Friday!

It's Friday. We pick Miss M up today, and we'll have her with us for SEVEN WEEKS. I cannot underscore how excited I am about this.

YAY!!!

I hate ticky-tack nit picking!

I really do. Today, I walk into NewBoss' office with a big ole analysis that I've been working on for two weeks. I had my summary. I worked to format it in the manner he prefers, with lots of colors and bolds and the proper formats on the numbers. We then spent more time tearing apart the formatting than discussing the actual analysis.

Yeah, I'm really gonna miss this place.

No Way! NO WAY!

These were the first words uttered by Miss M when she walked out onto the patio of our new home. See, our back yard is pretty much idyllic for a (almost) 9 year old girl. It has a nice, bright brick patio (that will have more furniture than the white resin chairs). Then, steps lead you up to a very shaded, very private space. There are trees lining the yard. Interspersed in the edges are various shrubs that flower pretty much continuously beginning with some golden forsythia, ranging through gardenias and now hydrangeas. I don't know WHAT the autumn will bring, but I do know the Japanese Maple will be brilliant. Birds are singing - REAL songbirds (which really aren't prevalent in Florida), and it's just so quiet and peaceful. There's hooks for a hammock, which I intend to install post haste upon getting moved.

And then Miss M found another fabulous feature to our yard. The neighborhood gaggle o' girls that seem to gravitate toward one another almost mythically. Within a few hours of Miss M's arrival, she already had a newbestfriend, H, who also has Crocs (though hers are a rather unfortunate shade of blue). Seems that H is a year ahead of Miss M in school, and she also LOVES American Girl books and such.

As for me?

Ah yes - my feelings. There's a Robert Earl Keane song called "I'm coming home". I've played it a lot lately, because it makes me happy. It makes me think about what I'm going back to, and it helps me cope with the challenges that still face me in the move that we're making.

Challenges? Yeah - there are a few. We can start with the fact that I remain without a job, which is rather stunning to me. I genuinely believed that I would have something lined up by this point. Then there's the house, which still has a good 8 to 10 hours of packing time remaining, and precious few days left to complete this task. Between working full days, a business trip next week, and a Sunday in the car with the kids getting them to my parents.... There's just not a lot of time left between now and when the movers arrive on June 23.

Let's not forget the nagging Federal PLUS loans application that needs to be completed. Tonight. Sigh.

But, at the end of the day, I know it's all worth it. I think back to the little black-headed girl spinning in the back yard saying "This is just the most awesome place ever!" And I think of Miss Baby and my niece, M&M, playing around with one another. Miss Baby, following M&M where ever she goes. M&M, leading the charge into trouble.... And I see my mom and dad, watching it all and smiling.

And I smile too. We're going home.

Reason I love Mr. Mac #5,126,794,830

Yeah, that's over 5 and a quarter billion. Take THAT, McDonald's.

Today, I roused myself from bed. I made my coffee, and I debated my breakfast options in my head. I could stop at my local bagel joint and get a bagel and a schmear on the way, I could wait until I got here and get eggy-cheezy-bacony goodness on cuban toast. Then I remembered that I have a vendor coming in today, and that he usually takes me to the Palm to eat, so I should just have a cheese toast when I get to the office.

Then I went about having a cup of coffee, washing a cup for Miss Baby's morning breakfast, etc., and thinking about how happy I was to have my vendor friend coming in today, because he's a cool guy and I do like him.

And I proceeded to think about what to wear today. I donned some jeans and a top, with a pair of strappy espadrilles.

Uhhh.... And I have this lunch thing. At a decent restaurant, not McDonald's.

And I'm in jeans and a sleeveless shirt (from TARGET!). And sandals.

I mean, it *is* Florida, after all, but at the same time, there ARE limits.

So I frantically call Mr. Mac and say "Okay, I need a pair of black pants - grab the pair from Talbot's".

Mr. Mac: "The pair? Honey, you have, like, 20 pair of black pants from Talbot's! How do I know which ones you want."

I think about this strategerically, and say "Okay, I want the coarse black linen pair with the yoke top - they have a double set of fasteners and a cuff at the bottom. Oh, and the HOT pink scoop-neck blouse, from Talbot's."

Aside: Yes, there is a theme to my clothing - I patronize the 2 T's - Talbot's and Target.

Now... You'd think a man, a computer programmer engineer man, would very likely rather explode than have to figure out what I just said. But not my man! He figured it out, didn't explode, and managed to get everything together to bring to me. The day is saved! DevilMacDawg can go much yummy steaky salad with her vendorfriend in style and peace.

I have The. Best. Husband. EVER! I heart him so! :-)

Things I'm going to, um, 'miss' about this place

This may be a regular feature for a bit. Today's entry (and the reason for this post) - Mr. Flatulence and Phlegm. Mr. F&Ph can let rip the most impressive of toots. The volume is unreal - windows can be shaken. The tonal range is impressive, from bass that rumbles the floor to a high treble that pierces. And let's not forget the longevity. He's been clocked at 30 seconds on several occasions. The record stands at 52 seconds, though there is some disagreement over whether it was one sustained effort, or there were several mini-farts in one short span.

Then to the phlegm. The snorting, the snuffling... and the hocking of loogeys.

It would make any 12 year old boy proud. But to most of us (well over 35) here, it's just plain embarrassing. However, we have taken it in stride, pinging one another with 'ratings' (1 to 10). Earlier today, we had a consensus 8.5+ echo through the area. I personally awarded a 9.5, but I'm often accused of being the "Paula" in our judging triumvirate.

How do you deal with this type of issue? He doesn't work for me, and his supervisor (who also does not work for me, but also works for my boss) is well aware of the issue and says "It's a personal matter that we can't really control."

Tomorrow on "TIGT, um, MATP": My staff, including the "Analyst" who doesn't know how to use Excel. Stay tuned folks. More coming from the funny farm!

My Life, the Disney Ride

With boats and children from around the world singing "It's a Small World After All", over and over and over and... ad nauseum (admittedly, I have some perverse LOVE of this ride).

Today, again, proof that I am basically 2 or 3 degrees separated from pretty much every one else south of or with connections south of the Mason Dixon line. Two bloggers I now regularly read are connected to me in the most bizarre of ways - one is a high school classmate of my husband's, and another is married to a friend of mine from college. I've found these things out very randomly in one case (not from anything on her blog), but the other was rather obvious. I'm sure if I started picking the brain of other bloggers out there, I'd run across more connections.

This whole bizarre connection thing has gone on my whole life. Generally, I've tossed it off as being from the South where, well, everyone is everyone else's 'cousin' of some sort (whether by blood, marriage or sharing of common boundary). When Mr. Mac and I were sending out wedding invitations, we got one response from a woman who'd been a good friend of HIS - she was flipping out over WHERE the wedding was located. Turns out, her entire family was from MY home town, and she'd spent a lot of time there. A few years later, we had new neigbors move in next door. The wife's family, turns out, was ALSO from my home town, and she was VERY familiar with the county. There are many, many others.

So on to today. A few weeks ago, I interviewed for a job. It's a decent job that is in a really cool department, and it has awesome perks. I'm plenty excited about this job, and I'd really like to be made an offer. Things were looking good all on their own, but then I got a call from a buddy of mine who works for the same company about something unrelated. Turns out, the person hiring for this position for which I interviewed used to work with my buddy. And also one of the VP's in the group is the wife of another buddy up there.

I swear, I don't want to jinx anything. But this does make me feel (even) better.

Well, these little connections, and also the fact that they've called me back.