Bone Junior: January 2009

After a heart breaking loss last weekend, I've just about recovered and am almost feeling back to normal. And by "normal" I mean "there's been so much going on that I haven't had time to get my bearings."

First, say hello to my new niece, Benjamin Button. I mean, Nano.
She's just a teeny little thing, but she's one of the cutest little old men I've ever seen. Seriously, look at that wrinkled forehead. Bone Senior's delivery story is one for the books.

The same day that Nano was born, I "found out" that I will be moving out by February 1. Out of respect for certain people who read my blog, I will tread lightly here, but I am moving against my will and not happily. I have loved living in this place for the last 2 1/2 years, it's been absolutely perfect, it's a convenient location, the past roommates have been great... until the most recent one (let's call her Judas) moved in in October and decided to take the place all for herself.

What really gets my goat about this situation is that when the owner's gave me notice to move out, I asked Judas if she knew why they were having me move out, and she looked me right in the face and said she had absolutely no idea. After several phone calls and emails to the owners, I finally found out that they were having me move because Judas had offered to rent out the entire place herself, and the owner's could make more money.

After this information came to light, I confronted Judas. As I stood there asking her if she still didn't know why they were asking me to move, and she looked at me again and again said she had no idea, I felt myself reverting back to my inner ghetto-self and started bobbing my head and raising my voice. All I needed was big hoop earrings to complete the hoochie mama image.

When I told her that I knew she'd offered to rent the whole place, she just stared at me like a deer in the headlights and responded with, "Oh....I didn't even think of that." At which point I could no longer restrain my ghetto-self, and believe I used the phrase, "Why you gotta play me like this???" I know. I know.

Suffice it also to say that I am not about to make this transition easy for her, seeing as how she had no interest in being up front with me about the circumstances. I'm only shoveling the half of the driveway that I use, and I'm taking the shovel with me when I go. I also currently have half-packed boxes strewn and stacked all over the place, and they'll stay there until the absolute last second. I'm not afraid to be a big baby about this.

Despite the situation, I have a place to go and I'm actually excited to see how it will all turn out. The process of packing and sorting and throwing stuff out has been emotional. I've taken two car loads of stuff to DI, and found myself in somewhat of a grabbing match with the mexican worker sorting the donations. The scuffle finally ended with me in tears and the mexican triumphantly walking away with one of my prized possessions.

You can't appreciate it from the picture, but that is a giant head talking Rocky toy. You push the button and he says different phrases from the movie, and every so often he breaks into the Rocky theme song and punches and stuff. I've had him for a few years now, and it really broke my heart to get rid of him. I was desperately trying to convey the amazingness to the mexican by pushing the button over and over, but I don't think he truly appreciated Rocky. Somebody is going to see Rocky on the shelf and be like, "What?? JACKPOT!!!" Logistically, it was just time for me to set him free and let him bring joy to someone else's heart. Along with the following items:
I knew both my Tickle Me Elmo's had to go when they sounded like idling truck engines and laughed in super slow motion, like they were of the devil.
This is Ask Me Eeyore. He's like a talking Magic 8-ball - you ask him a question and he gives you a somber answer. I got rid of him because for years I've been asking him if my boobs would ever get bigger, and he always gave me some variation of the answer,"Dream on." Guess I showed him.
And this is my Batman grappling hook. There are no words to sum up its awesomeness, but I just don't have much to grapple these days. And so it too had to go.

In other news, this is a banner year for the Oscar nominations as far as I'm concerned. I have only seen ONE of the films nominated for Best Picture. ONE! You know its been an off year when I'm so far out of the movie loop.

I have lots of catching up to do - there are seventeen nominated films that I haven't seen (not including foreign film, documentary feature, documentary short subject, live action short film and animated short film because who really sees those?) And there's only one category in which I've seen all the nominated films: Visual Effects (The Dark Knight, Benjamin Button, and Iron Man). So once I get set up in the new place, I probably won't come out of my room for days because I'll be watching as many movies as possible so I can clean house at my annual Oscar party.

That just about sums it up for me and my eventful week. See you at the movies.

... and I'm not just talking about the Eagles making the playoffs, although that was a miracle all in itself. But as they say...I promise that's not just a gratuitous shot of my bazoombas, its a gratuitous shot of the awesome t-shirt my brother-in-law gave me for Christmas. But no matter how I tried to take the picture, it always came out looking like a gratuitous shot of my bazoombas. Enjoy.

The real Christmas miracle actually happened on Christmas morning when I opened a different gift from my brother-in-law. It felt like a book, and when I opened it, it was a book. A book called Your Pregnancy and Birth, which caused quite the ruckus among my family.

Step-sister: "You're PREGNANT??"
Step-mother: "Well, we always want more grandkids!"
Grandmother: Nervous laughter. "Well! I don't know if that's good news or bad news!"
Step-sister: "You're PREGNANT!!??"
Father: Extremely not amused.
Brother-in-law: Extremely amused.
Bone Senior: In the bathroom.

The Christmas miracle being, of course, that I was rendered speechless. And also had to spend the remainder of my time at home convincing my father that I was not, in fact, pregnant. I'm pretty sure it's going to take another nine months and the absence of a baby to convince him.

In other holiday news, I cleaned up once again as the world's coolest aunt. Behold the latest crop of onesies for Li'l Mil:

And behold the greatest pillow case ever made, given to my good friend G:
I call it my Matt Damon picture. Merry Christmas!