Thinking about bed

Going to bed is one of my favorite parts of the day. Sometimes it's the best thing that happens all day.

My bed is very important to me, and very carefully designed around my preferences - and no one else's, because I'm very selfish. And also because no one else tends to be sleeping in the bed. More on that later. Here's a detailed description:

The bed itself was made by my greatgreatuncle, or some variation on that theme, in upstate New York. It's clearly handmade, and most of it was turned on a lathe. I had to drill new holes into it so that a modern mattress would fit it, because it was made before mattress standardization. On the bed frame sits a boxspring and a mattress, both full size. While I can appreciate a giant bed, I prefer full size beds - better for snuggling. More on that later. On top of the mattress is a down mattress pad. On top of that are usually jersey sheets, although I have a set of flannel for the winter time. I HATE flat sheets, as I find they lead to getting tangled up and frustrated, so I don't use them. Next comes my down duvet, which I'm thinking of replacing with a thicker one. (Not that I need a thick one, living in warm climates...it's just a puffy-ness issue) And finally - the pillows. I have a least three - two puffy and one flat. The flat one always has the blue pillowcase with the stars on it. There's also a body pillow against the wall, although I'm thinking of retiring it. Sometimes there's one of the quilts I've made on there, too.

And now, the pitiful parts.

When I was a freshman in college, a friend gave me a giant stuffed sheep (Sheepy), and I'm ashamed to say he's still in the bed. When I was a senior, I started having recurring nightmares about aligators (which I still have, sometimes), so my boyfriend at the time gave me a giant stuffed aligator, and now I can't sleep without it. Finally, there's usually a small black terrier sleeping on my toes, which is actually really handy, because they get cold.


The problem is this: even with all of this nonsense in my bed, I still like it best when there's another person. Preferably a warm boy. I don't know how the boys ever manage to fit in there, but I guess they find room somehow.

The real problem with being between relatioships is that suddenly there's no one else in my bed. (well that, and the lack of sex) This is why I sometimes consider hiring someone to sleep in my bed. I've had this conversation with many people, but I've never figured out how much I'd have to pay. Basically, I want a man to sleep in the bed, take care of scary noises, kill the occasional spider, and snuggle. That's about it. I'm not even talking about sex. (this is where most men tune out) There's a minor issue with the snuggling part, though: I've been told I'm a very aggressive snuggler. I'll snuggle somebody right to the edge of the bed if they don't stop me. I've actually snuggled men off the bed before. It's a problem.

And now you know more than you ever needed to know about my bed. It's late, so I guess I'll go get in it.

The move, continued

So then I had a week before classes started.

I was exhausted and grumpy and really grateful to be left alone.

I spent most of the week eating Lucky Charms, reading Harry Potter, and sleeping. (excellent alone time activities)

I figured out how to ride MARTA and where the closest stations were. Then, after much research, I found the closest bus to my house (4 blocks away) and how often it runs (once an hour, which sucks).

I found the campus, the sociology department, and the bookstore. I signed all the official documents to become an employee of the school.

And I hung out with Katie and Nick a lot.




Coming up soon: further adventures in ATL and the first two weeks of class.

(right now I have to go read for class tomorrow)

The ATL

I've been in Atlanta for a week and a half and haven't posted yet. I apologize to anyone who may have been waiting for an update. I didn't post because I STILL don't have internet.

Getting internet in my apartment has been the battle I never expected. Everyone wanted to set an install date two weeks away, or else had phantom bounced checks on my account (if my bank can't find it and I can't find it... it doesn't exist) or else their wireless couldn't function in my tiny half-underground apartment. My walls are two feet thick. I like that. Wireless networks do not. Tomorrow I should finally achieve internet, with the help of the slowest and most expensive provider around.

So anyway. Atlanta.

Two weeks ago the moving started. My dad brought a moving truck home and we loaded everything I had at my parents' house into it. This included a couch that looked like it was going to be physically impossible to move. That part made me nervous. The next day we drove to Knoxville to get even more stuff. First we went to the POD, where Jessica and her dad were already unloading. Jessica and I put our shit in the POD last July and haven't seen it since - opening it was kind of like Christmas. There were things in there that I had forgotten I owned.

And then it was time for the scary part.

In Knoxville, I'd been living in a loft in the very heart of downtown. The loft was up two sets of stairs, and my furniture was up another set of spiral stairs within the loft. Getting it in was bad enough - it took myself, three strong men, and a lot of swearing. Getting it back down was made much easier with the aid of two of my favorite boys from the Grotto: Pet Barback and Tony. Thank god for them. There were a few moments when I thought either my furniture or one of the boys was going to die, but it worked. After living here for a few days I remembered the stuff I left in Knoxville: a microwave, my nightlights (don't laugh), and a wireless router. D'oh.

My dad and I stayed in a hotel outside of Atlanta that night, and on Saturday it was time to move in. Moving in is always better than moving out.

My new apartment is a hole. Seriously - it's half underground and it's about 400 square feet. But I love it so much. It's in the greatest neighborhood and it's part of this really amazing building from the 1920's. It's small, but it's as much space as I need, and I knew my furniture would mostly fit. Plus, it's about all I could afford in this town. And I can barely afford it.

Cousin Zach, the DePalmas, my dad, and I unloaded the truck pretty quickly. (Cousin Jason showed up right when everything was unloaded...suspicious...) (and yet so clever) The couch was a major disastor all over again. Katie and I watched and tried to make thoughtful and supportive faces while her engineer husband helped make a plan for forcing it around corners. Then we all went to lunch at Mary Mac's, which was brilliant.

And that's about as much update as I feel like doing. We've gotten to moving in, and I'll update more later.