+Tuesday, May 10, 2005+
Well, just another three weeks or so before I'll be sprinting like a maniac through the grubby corridors of the Reno-Tahoe Airport to pick up my Matt! I'm so excited to see him, but at the same time am coping with this sickening knot in my stomach. No doubt our 2 weeks will be great - I find it absolutely adorable that Matt told me it would be okay if I went to work his first few days back into so he can recover from jet lag, like he thinks I'd actually be capable of sitting still at my desk knowing that he's back at the house. No way! If he needs to sleep and recover from jet lag, I'll sit in the overstuffed chair in our bedroom and watch him sleep. Freaky and stalkerish, perhaps, but from the moment I see him in that airport, he's not leaving my sight (except of course for the obvious times like when he's going to the bathroom).

I digress. The feeling of dread that amounts from Matt's leave isn't so much from the knowledge of the 9 long months that will follow as it is from knowing I'll have to let him go again. I know I can handle the 9 months; once I get into a routine, time flies by before my very eyes. Like April. Can anyone please tell me where April disappeared to? But I've already had to let Matt go twice - sitting in his truck at the base, bawling my eyes out while he made hand motions through the window of the bus that he loved me; sitting in the OKC airport, once again bawling my eyes out while some jerk sitting near me had the audacity to say "it can't be that bad." I don't like the feeling of letting Matt go - it's close kin to that of falling down a dark hole and not knowing when you're going to hit ground if at all - and while our 15 days together will undoubtedly make all that pain worthwhile, I'm not looking forward to our third goodbye; however, I do receive solace from knowing that this is the last time I'll ever have to feel that again. After this, there's only hellos.

Last week was HECTIC. Between work, school, and H coming into town for the Jimmy Eat World concert, I think the only time I was at home was when I was sleeping, and worse than that, instead of moving quickly as busy, hectic weeks so often do, this one took its precious time moving through. The Jimmy Eat World concert was a blast - they played my favorite song ever ("Lucky Denver Mint") and I started squealing like I'd just won the lottery because it's one of their older songs and was never a single so I wasn't sure they'd play it. H seemed to thoroughly enjoy my screaming though as she didn't stop laughing for the entire duration of the song. I ran into my boss from my old job at the radio station (I used to be a weekend DJ...excuse me, on-air personality), and he told me I should come back and work a weekend shift - this idea is really appealing to me, especially as a way to fill some time while Matt's away. I'm still mulling over it...It's proving to be a difficult decision because while working at the radio station was undoubtedly the funnest job I've ever had, I had a grocery list of reasons for quitting and don't know if it would be worth it to go back.

Matt called right smack in the middle of Jimmy Eat World's set allowing me to prove my super human skills by sprinting across an insanely large concert hall while dodging drunk teenagers to get outside and talk to him somewhere quiet. Of course, I answered my phone before my mad rush to the door so he got to hear about 5 seconds of Jimmy Eat World playing live. I told him, "See baby, now you know I really DO bring my cell phone everywhere." Surgically attached, I tell ya. Missing a call from Matt is very high up there on the worst things that can happen to me. I even bring it to class and movie theatres despite the utter contempt it causes me from my fellow peers.

As a reward for making it through my very long and strenuous week, I bought myself a book I've been wanting to own for a very long time now - "The Secret Language of Birthdays." It's a book on personology, or rather, the idea that your personality is greatly affected by the day you're born on. I don't take it as religion, but I'm completely fascinated with the concept of astrology. I'd never call a psychic or get a tarot reading, but I do read my horoscope every day and have the Virgo symbol tattooed on my tummy by my belly button. So far my personology book has been eerily accurate. If you want to know what it says about you, email me your birthday (or leave it in my comments with your email address), and I'd be happy to tell you!

Mother's Day with my parents was a good time. We got some weather in the mountains that's pretty typical for a Reno May, so instead of risking death driving up the mountain in my Jetta, my parents came to Reno (their car is 4x4). We ate breakfast, saw A Lot Like Love, and then somehow I convinced my mom that we should go shopping (it was real tough, let me tell ya LOL) and walked away with a few adorable new tanks tops and a fabulous new pair of shoes to wear on mine and Matt's trip to L.A.

Getting cute new tank tops prompted me to finally go to the doctor to get this hideous rash I have on my back checked out. God knows I won't be wearing any sexy low back tanks if my back looks like it's been infected with leprocy (and it does too!). I originally got the rash about 6 months ago, shortly after we found out about Matt's deployment. I went to the doctor, he gave me steroids, and the rash didn't go away. Out of my total dislike for doctor's offices (not the doctors...it's the waiting room that gets me. Waiting rooms are the epitome of sickness), I avoided returning under the conviction that the rash would go away on its own. It didn't. Of course it didn't. They never do when you want them to.

After sitting in the waiting room for TWO HOURS (that's what I get for not making an appointment!), my doctor took one look at the rash and was no sooner filling out a referral sheet for a dermatologist. You know it's a bad sign when your doctor tells you she has "no idea what that is." She did, however, prescribe me a steroid cream to help keep my skin from swelling and suggested I also get some Lamasil to help its cracked and dry appearance since it'll inevitably be a long time before I'm able to get in for an appointment with a dermatologist. They always seem to be booked months in advance. Hopefully the couple creams she gave me will at least prevent me from being dubbed "The Girl with Scales on Her Back" in L.A. I'll die the day some little kid runs up to me and says, "EEEEWWW. CAN I TOUCH IT?" Plus, I know Matt'll be happy to see that after merely 6 months, I finally did something about it. LOL.

One of my good friends from high school is receiving her B.A. this weekend from SNC, which reminds me that I am D-O-N-E with school for the semester on Thursday. It'll be such a strange phenomena to be able to go straight home after work every day - I'm looking forward to it! Still no word from Amanda, but I'm not fretting it too much. The way I see it, if she wanted to be my friend in the first place, she would've been. H called me last night to let me know she was performing her "maid of honorly" duties by watching wedding movies and reality TV shows. She cracks me up! We even managed to think up a code for her to say to me if I start getting too bitchy; it completely reaffirmed my decision in asking her to be my maid of honor. She is my absolute best friend (except for Matt, of course, but for obvious reasons, he can't be my maid of honor) and I love her dearly and can't think of a single person I'd rather hold the title, certainly not Amanda!

Tonight is a birthday party for my old roommate, and tomorrow is finally the middle of the week, counting down the days till Matt's home for R&R and for 15 whole days we get to be inseparable again. Love it!

wishing matt was here @ 6:08 PM+

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