I love this man.

When you go for a job interview, I think a good thing to ask is if they ever press charges.
– Jack Handey

Thiefery

So, okay... I went to this play last night, and it was really fun. Lake Tahoe has an outdoor theater that houses the Lake Tahoe Shakespeare Festival every summer. It is LITERALLY right on the lake, and you sit in beach chair on the side of a hill in the white sand. I went to see Taming of the Shrew (Romeo and Juliet was also available, which I happen to enjoy, however, I don't really need a long, drawn-out tragic love story right now... dot dot dot) Okay, so it was cool. So cool in fact, that I was freezing my ASS off. Apparently this lake, Lake Tahoe, has ocean-like qualities. It has waves. At night. It was a little freaky. I just thought the waves during the day were from all the boats that were driving all over it. Not so much. It also has this incredibly COLD ASS wind that comes every evening with the tide. Yes, it has a tide as well. ITS A FUCKING LAKE. It is not some ocean in northern California, it is a lake. It should not have tides, and it should not have winds every night to freeze your ass off in. It is a self-contained body of water, an overgrown puddle, if you will. Oh, you know who knew about the freezing ass cold wind? Everybody else. EVERY.BODY.ELSE. So, not only was I the ONLY one there single (uno, solitary, no friends, no boyfriend, nada, zip, zilch, party of one... dot dot dot) but I was the only one there in shorts because just a few hours before it was ninety-five degrees. It's not cold at night in Reno, or Sparks, but apparently it is freakishly cold at night 40 miles away in Lake Tahoe. Whatever.
So, this is the knowledge you need to have lest you judge me when you hear the tail of my tragic fall into a life of crime... I stole a blanket. Somebody left this blanket on a railing. It was there when I went into the theater, and when I went to the restroom at intermission I noticed, as I was standing in line in the freezing ass cold wind, that it was still there. So I thought, surely by the time I go to the bathroom and get back out here, the owner will have remembered and came to retrieve it, right? They probably just left it there because the play started and they were going to get it at intermission, right? So I come out of the bathroom-- no warmer for having sat my naked ass down on a cold ceramic toilet seat-- and the blanket... is still there. I thought... it's go time. So I walk up nonchalantly, as if I had left it there all along, and I reached out and grabbed it off the railing and walked casually (swiftly) back to my seat. When I took the blanket, there were like three people talking about the fact that the blanket had been there the whole time. Then, this funny chica, who was there with her friends AND her boyfriend- her sarcastic boyfriend who made funny jokes the whole play long-- (all young and beautiful and fabulous with their coolers of wine and bowls of fruit-bitches) gave me a weird look because I had sat behind her and her entourage (alone) the whole first half of the play and she was like three people behind me in the bathroom line (so I didn't retrieve it from my car), and clearly knew that it wasn't my blanket. And she knew I was alone because when you go to one of these events-alone- people have this habit of leaving room around you, as if there is someone else coming to join you, because SURELY nobody would go to a Shakespeare play and drink wine by herself! That would be ridiculous. So I had, like, this bubble of shame around me. Yeah, she gave me weird looks after the play. I HAD TO. It was one of those velor ones, you know? The kind they have on hotel beds. OH, and the best part was that it was WHITE, which, in a dark outdoor theater with spotlights, practically GLOWS. It was screaming "Look at the pathetic little alone girl who didn't know that it would be ten below zero and has no boy-toy to cuddle up with and no friends to drive her home so she can't even stay warm on wine like the rest of us so she has resorted to stealing this probably nasty, disease ridden blanket from a stray railing." (The stray railings are the shady ones). Okay, it didn't quite say all of that, but it wasn't exactly blending in either.
So then after the play, I was just trying to get out of their quickly and inconspicuously as possible, and there is lady in front of me, and she makes a bee-line to the garbage can and throws away this huge quilt. HUGE, FLUFFY QUILT. It was the strangest thing I had ever seen. I thought for a moment, is this what they do here? Should I just throw this away now? I mean, everybody rented beach chairs to sit in, were the blankets just disposable? I was so confused. Did I mention it is velor? I couldn't throw away a velor blanket! Are you crazy?! But apparently I can steal them. I kept waiting for rats or spiders to crawl out of it and kill me. but it was a perfectly fine blanket. I think. I put it in the back of my car and drove away and I have not looked at my pile of fluffy, cuddly, velvety sin since. God I hope there were no spiders in it.
So I relate this whole story to my God-daughter. My wonderfully understanding and kind god-daughter. Who promptly tells me... You are the only person I know who that would actually happen to, like, in real life. I can't even pretend to be indignant. All I can say is... yeah, I know.

Whew... what a week. So I moved and am almost 100% moved in. Most boxes are unpacked. For the most part, the move has been surprisingly uneventful-- in a good way. Here are the highlights:

Went to a Rascal Flatts concert that was AMAZING!! I know, not all of you appreciate country, but it was loud and cool and awesome and way too much fun. So nice to go to a concert where the entertainment doesn't tend bar during their breaks.

Cable company is comprised of complete fuck ups. They told me that I had to call them to "provision" my internet before I could hook up (I still don't know what that means) and after two twenty minute phone calls (the first one ended when I told off the lady and she quit talking. Like, she literally just stopped talking but wouldn't hang up. I was like, are you there bitch? I wasn't really happy when she told me my IP address was bad and I needed to call Apple for them to give me a new one. Fucking idiot.) After 40 minutes they still could not connect me to the internet, nor did ANYBODY in the entire tech department have any experience with Macs. They told me to call Apple, which I did, but my warranty expired and they were going to charge me 50 bucks to connect me. So I ran a diagnostic program, by myself, and the computer was connected to the iternet in 30 seconds, y myself. Because Macs don't need fuck ups to mess with their numbers and yank their dicks like PC's do. Yeah, that was fun.

Oh, and I lost one of my keys. They gave me three keys, one goes to my mailbox and two regular sized ones, which I assumed were two copies of my front door key. I put the mailbox and one of the door keys on my regular ring and tossed the others aside, where they apparently have been taken hostage by apartment gnomes. The other key-- the one I lost-- gets me into the pool and spa. Yeah, I'm an idiot. It has never left this apartment, where the fuck is it?!

Uh, and I think that's it. I found a fabulous mall today amidst a huge, two mile long shopping area. Big cities have their perks. And it is Hot August Nights this week. It's this HUGE classic car show and cruise. It's not really my scene, but seeing as how I am now a resident, I had to go out and show my support for the locals. Before returning home and staying up late eating ice cream and watching Sex and the City. You can take the girl out of the quiet hick town...

Sink or Swim time baby.

So I am moving (this morning) to a new state. As we speak my dad and brother are loading the uhaul-- I cannot help because I am still IN SHOCK at the amount of money I had to pay to rent the Uhaul truck for a single night. Surely I will recover around when the truck is packed and ready to go. Because I am helpful like that. Then we will drive to this new state, drop me off in a town that is roughly 100 times bigger than the town I currently live in (not an exageration) where I do not know a single soul to teach a classroom of severely handicapped children that is probably completely devoid of anything helpful such as curriculum... I love it. I keep waiting for the nerves, or the nostalgia, or some other such emotion that would be normal for a person moving away from home to a large, impersonal town of strangers would have. But... dot dot dot... not so much. Maybe I am nucking futs. Maybe my hometown is a black hole that sucks people in before draining them of life and soul before spitting them out empty and alone. Hmmm... not bitter. See ya suckers!