Does it mean it's something serious if the Doctor's office won't let you have a 10 minute walk in appointment and immediately finds you a proper time-slot that day? Bearing in mind that this is the Doctor with whom I had to make an appointment three months in advance...

It isn't like me to be scared by medical type stuff, and I know it's most likely a standard sideffect from using the hormonal variety of birth control. It's the dreams I had this morning that are making it disturbing. I don't remember ever having a dream where I was pregnant before, and in these dreams someone or something was trying to make me un-pregnant. It might even have been me, I don't know. There was this awful feeling of my body not being my own any more, not knowing what to expect from one minute to the next, feeling possessed from within and attacked from without, and not knowing whose side I was on, or wanted to be on.

It could just be because I have "issues" about the ownership of my body, of course I know it's mine, but one of the many many reasons I'm not ready for kids yet is that I need longer to prove that to myself.

Countdown to Edinburgh: Three weeks...

Clarification
For those who don't know me, my mannerisms, my goals in life and my personal motivations, (which is a lot of the people on this planet) I feel some clarification may be neccessary.

I moved into an apartment on Saturday. The only name on the lease is mine. The only person who decides when I leave said apartment is me. The only person who checks my mail is me. The only people watching my comings and goings are the little old ladies twitching their curtains. The only person who gets to comment on my housekeeping is Matt.

I did not move to make a statement to anyone, out of spite, in a fit of rage, or any other tantrum-related action you care to name. Nor did I move to indicate anything about the state of any of my relationships. My move was the sole purpose and aim of moving. It really is that ridiculously simple.

I moved because I want to live in my own place. I moved because I have come to value privacy a great deal more than I ever did, and the only way to achive the level of privacy I wish to have in my life is to live in my own place. I was not driven to it, nor was it a horrible undertaking forced upon me by evil adversaries. It was a positive life choice. What is more, the only person whose life it dramatically affects is...you guessed it...mine.

How does it affect me?

Simple. I have a home now.

Soooooo much to do! Here I was thinking moving in would be pretty much the end of it, but there's this stuff called groceries, completely from scratch. I don't even own any spices. Gack. It's all going to cost a lot of money intially, but when it comes down to it it's fun. It's an adventure. I get to figure out exactly how much parmesan I can go through in a month, and how many gallons of cream soda. I have barely been cooking for myself for months, and I have to remember how to do it again, it'll be pretty easy because I won't get distracted by a fridge full of other people's leftovers: the only things crawling around the back of my fridge will be things I put there. Or possibly Matt. Things Matt put there, not Matt crawling around my fridge.

I need a few naps to catch up on lost sleep from the past couple of months. Sometimes I feel it's to catch up on lost sleep from the past 13 months.

So far the only snag is that my mailbox has a label on it saying "R. Burford" I love it when the mis-spelling faeries give me a chance to try on a different surname.

The internet is a wonderful thing. Never mind my finding the apartment listing on wednesday morning, viewing the place that afternoon and being offered it the next morning (speedy credit checks also thanks to the internet), today I have notified my cell phone, credit card and insurance companies of my new address, and added renters insurance to my policy. I also filled out the Post Office change of address form online, then printed the DMV form and filled it out ready to mail tonight. The only one left is my bank.

I was pleasantly surprised by how handily compartmentalized my belongings are too. Though it helps that I don't have a whole hell of a lot of kitchen equipment, and I certianly don't have any foodstuffs to transport. Apart from some tubes of decorative frosting and an unopened bottle of balsamic vinegar. Charmingly picante combination you know...frosting and vinegar...they're serving it at allthe best restaurants in London these days...

Drumroll...

I am now oficially a cave troll. Though hopefully I won't find myself dragged around a giant underground city by a bunch of awks for the sole purpose of getting beaten up by four hobbits, two humans, a dwarf, an elf and a Gandalf in a pear tree.

Even if the light hadn't been an issue I think I needed to see the place again to reassure myself that it really is a liveable space. Honestly, the only real gripe I have is that it's doors on the shower, not a curtain rail, so my groovy shower curtain will have to go into cold storage. Or be loaned to Stonedragon, for his new abode. Pretty damn small complaint when you really think about it isn't it?

~Ash, the semisubterrenean faerie

I have now been accepted at / offered three different apartments. All right, so the first one was to move in November 1st, and wasn't fantastic enough to justify the extra expenditure of moving in that early. The second was teeny tiny, in a great building, but still teeny. Plus that whole closet being completely open to the bathroom thing, no thanks to moldy sweaters. The third, the one I'm going to re-view today, has little personality, the kitchen isn't a separate room, and it could very well turn out to be a cave. I saw it after dark before so I can't be sure. Besides the troll issue, do I really want to live somewhere that at most said "meh" to me, rather than somewhere that leaps up and down and calls "you could be at home here, this is a YOU place!" the moment I walk in the door?

I have seen three places where I would truly love to live, all interesting and attractive to me for very different reasons. All open way too early, or already taken. Or both. These three places I walked in the door and thought "Yes! I want to live here! This is a meplace"

Of course I'm not going to stay in this new place forever, but even if you manage to coordinate the leases, moving does cost money. There's no escaping it. So I want to minimize moves, therefore I want to live in a place that I feel I'll stay in, not a place that maybe I'll kinda sorta like being there.

Now we come to the real undercurrent to all this: maybe I don't want to find my own place. I've become very used to spending every evening and night with Matt. Not just used to, very much enjoying. We drifted into it because I wanted to be there more than anywhere else I had to go, then it became the routine. I want to change part of the routine, but I don't want to change the part that involves waking up next to him, and moving into my own place will mean that for part of the working week at least I will be staying at my place. In fact I'll make sure I do, otherwise I'm back to spending $10+ a day to store my belongings.

This is why every time I get close to signing for a place I can only think of the negatives. Though when I really think about it that teeny studio was too teeny (not to mention the closet thing) and this one may very well be a cave. I'll find out in about 30 minutes when I go to look at it in the middle of a sunny day.

If I do turn my nose up at this place there's a couple more prospects, and there's always next week's Reader, and neighborhood walking this weekend. As long as my subconscious remembers it's place and stops pointing out how much nicer it would be if the window were over there instead of where it really is…

Holy jet-lagged tartan batman!

A month from today I'll be heading home for the first time in over a year. November is going fast, way too fast considering everything I still need to get done.

Countdown to Edinburgh: 5 weeks.

Rain.

Friday.

Three-day weekend ahead.

Plushe was wearing that fuzzy dark teal sweater this morning.

Life is good.

I gave up, and replaced the template entirely. I think I've remembered all the people that I had linked on my blog roll, if I think of anyone else I'll add them on again. When I get around to owning a computer other than my jumped-up word processor of a 486 Compaq laptop I'll take the time to figure out html beyond my current cut-and-paste abilities and think up something more originally me.

Currently the server seems to be denying the existance of my blog, but it'll allow access to the archived pages. Go figure.

It accepted the new post on "Past. Present. Future: perfect?" though.

You may notice the template is screwing up a little. I managed to fix it so that the links down the left are the colour they're supposed to be, instead of occasionally teal or magenta as they were this morning. I've gone in an "fixed" the date header and timestamp several times, but it won't save my changes. So I'm giving up for now.

~Ash the non-HTML-literate faerie

No candles after all, we would have slow-roasted ourselves if we lit them all again, it was a mild night and (of course) you can't run the fan when there's candles right next to it. We sat and talked about the future, and a little about the past. I got to ask what one of his songs was about, one that had intrigued me for a while. There's a more solid plan forming for our planned trip to Scotland. Thankfully we agreed not to try to see absolutely everythingat one go. A taster of London, followed by Stonehenge, the train ride north with a stop at York and/or Hadrian's wall, then 6 or so days in Edinburgh exploring local castles and historical sites still covers a hell of a lot if you ask me!

My parents might want to meet us in London and come along for the ride, that would be fun. Matt will get a real picture of my formative years, taking trips with my parents, the way they both approached the opportunities to see new places, is one of the things I feel shaped my world view the most. I get the feeling he'll absolutely love it. He's already got the getting things done but still managing to smell the roses on the way mentality.