Puppy in a Basket!

Do y'all ever get tired of seeing pictures of my dog? It can't be possible.

I mean, look at that fluffy white face. I just can't help but be madly in love with her.

I doubt you can either.

And if your furry little friend had taken up residence in your laundry basket, 

you'd be snapping photos too, don't you think?

Sure, I'm now counting everything on top as "unclean," 

but I just can't bring myself to kick her off. 

She's too adorable.

Aren't you, Bennie-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo?

Pondering.

Tonight I'm thoughtful, unsettled.

Tonight I'm weighing my options, considering my decisions.

Earlier this week I interviewed for and was offered a position. I accepted, and tonight I had my first training. But since that time, I've also had an interview with a temp. agency, was accepted as one of their "A-List" associates, and even did a phone interview with a local company for a job that could start this week. Plus, another restaurant called me, and I have an interview with them on Friday.

Should I choose to work multiple jobs, I could be bringing home a TON of money in the next few months. But at what cost? My time, as I face potentially working seven days a week? My social life, as that type of schedule doesn't leave a lot of room for making friends? My joy of living in Austin, as I'd no longer have the time or energy to enjoy all it has to offer?

And should I choose one job, or even choose more than one, which do I choose? The job I've started is evenings-only, except on weekends, when the hours are a little longer. So I'd be free to do other things during the day, such as work or sew or explore my new home. But it's not super flexible because of the specific role I'd be filling, and I'd be working most nights when others are free. The temporary jobs I'd be up for are daytime, putting me on a standard 9-5(ish) schedule. And they're mostly office positions, which are much better for a resume than being a food server at a bar. Still not flexible, and not likely to work around a potential school schedule should I decide to take some classes this spring (though, for the record, 3 of the 4 potential classes I'd be taking for the program I'd like to do are online). And then there's the other restaurant job, which I still have to interview for...it's a classier establishment, and the promise of set hours, though the job itself would offer more opportunities to be flexible should my availability change.

I'll admit that I didn't anticipate having so many options or opportunities laid before me. I accepted the first position in part because I felt I'd be a fool to turn down something in this economy. But I wonder if that was not necessarily the right decision, now that I see my situation as being far from desperate.

It's safe to say I have a lot to think about, and a lot to consider. That seems to be a theme in my life these days.

I hate driving.

Today, I spent nearly an hour trying to get home from the campus area. I did loops multiple times on the same road, fighting traffic and the sun to find my way. Then I somehow ended up on a road that had the potential to lead me home, even though I have no idea how I got there.

And then I got in a fender-bender. I may have made an illegal right turn (I'm still not sure the validity of that claim), and as I was almost through it, the truck behind me hit the back of my car, and a van hit them. No damage done to my car or the truck, and the van's bumper was a little saggy, but they were fine with it. No reason to call cops or insurance, and as we were all getting back into our cars, the old man from the van told me to be careful, I said I would, and then the guy in the truck looks me straight in the eye and says:

"You need to apologize to me and to the old people."

He had that "I'm your dad, and I know better" tone, even though he was maybe five years older than me, and I thought he was kidding. He wasn't.

"Apologize to the old people."

Me: "Are you serious? YOU hit ME."

"You need to apologize."

Again, "You hit me. I didn't do anything wrong."

"You made an illegal turn."

"I did not!"

And then the lady gets into it. She gets back out of the van, and starts informing me that yes, I did make an illegal turn. So they're all yelling at me, and I'm getting hopping mad, and yelling at the guy in the truck for basically being a big jerk, who's telling me, hey, we all love Austin as much as you do, so just apologize and we'll be fine, and the woman is asking me how long I've been driving that I don't know the laws, and I apologize, sort of, but that's not enough, and they ask if I want the cops to come out and corroborate their claim, and finally I say, "I'm sorry. If I did wrong, I didn't know it, but I'm sorry that it caused you problems" and they all leave in a relatively satisfied huff.

And I sit in the parking lot and cry and don't want to drive home because not only may I have done something wrong that I honestly didn't know was wrong and could have caused far greater problems than it did, but everyone was yelling at me too.

I hate being yelled at.

Hello Austin.

I've officially been an Austinite for one week!!

I'm super excited about that, and while I still don't have pictures (I'll tell y'all that story later), I do have lots to share about the move and what's been happening since then.

Sooo....here is is.

Last Friday I woke up early after going to bed late. I was super exhausted, kind of frustrated with certain parts of life (ugh, boys), and not excited about having to pack and move my stuff again. After moving out of my house and into a friend's apartment, then moving my extra stuff from the house into the office, then moving out of the apartment, I was SO not ready to move again.

Beazley, one of the current interns for TEDRD, was crazy kind enough to loan me his '92 Ford Ranger for my maiden voyage. But I still had a ton of stuff in my car, so I headed to the office well before eight to arrange things and figure out what went where and when.

And that's when I set off the burglary alarm. See, we have this alarm system that recently needed to be re-set. And, in fact, was re-set. But nobody told me, and, as I normally come in long after someone else has punched in their code, was blissfully unaware of the change. So I unlock the door, hear the beeps, punch in my code, and...nothing. No response. I try again. Nope, wrong answer. Suddenly the system starts screaming with siren noises. Seriously. Loud as can be, while I panic and call Kyle. Voicemail. Twice. Then I call Beazley. Voicemail. Then I call Luke, who actually answers, gives me the code, and I punch it in, then run for the phone to talk to the alarm company who are calling me to tell me there's a potential intruder in the building.

Alarm Company: We're calling in response to an alarm.
Me: Yeah, sorry, that was me. I didn't know they changed the codes.
Al-Co: How'd you get in?
Me: I have a key.
Al-Co: How'd you turn the alarm off?
Me: I got the code from a coworker.
Al-Co: What's your name?
Me: Carolyn.
Al-Co: What's your code?
Me: ****
Al-Co: What is the airspeed velocity of a coconut-laden swallow?
Me: African or European?

Okay, the last part (and half of the other) might have been a slight fabrication, but you get the gist. I spent the next couple of hours being harassed by Luke for not having/knowing the code, packing up, and trying not to panic because I was, in fact, actually moving to Austin.

I proceeded from there to the bank, where I held up the line and made the teller's day a living hell by attempting to not only deposit, but also access a large amount of money to pay for my move-in expenses. Then I dropped in to Eatcetera to pick up lunch from the counter guy who looks remarkably like Elijah Wood and happens to be about the same height as a hobbit.

(via)

Just so you know, asparagus-and-blue-cheese-cream sandwiches are delicious, but not the best travel food. Half of it ended up down my shirt before I left the island.

You should also know that a '92 Ford Ranger in which the bench seat no longer moves forward the originally intended amount is not all that comfortable for at 5'0" lady to drive. Not only did I have a pillow behind my back, but I had my legs fully extended in order to reach the pedals. And there is no cruise control. So I was over it before I hit Houston, and still had three hours to drive. Thankfully, I had Starbucks to keep me going.

There are no cupholders in the truck. I had to improvise.

I stopped in Brenham for a rest, and got a Blue Bell ice cream bar. It seemed appropriate, and it was delicious. Then I hopped back in the truck, situated my pillow, and drove on into Austin, and joined the rush hour traffic on the I-35 corridor.

Rush Hour + Not My Truck + No Rearview Mirror + Full Truck Bed = TERRIFYING

Not to mention that my cell phone, often used as my trusty navigator, had died 20 miles out. Just as I was ready to compose my last words and phone in my goodbyes, I found my exit, departed, and landed at my apartment complex. Seventy billion signatures and a lot of things I didn't really read later, I walked in the door to my new apartment.

And saw brown walls.

Not all the walls. Just two of them. "Accent" walls if you will.

Now you have to understand that I'm a girl who appreciates brown. It can be nice. Lots of people like it. I just happen to not be one of them.

It just doesn't play nice with the silver/grey/teal/yellow/lime green world I choose to live in.

So I trudged BACK to the leasing office, pouting, and asking for a reprieve from the "Otter" colored walls flanking my new home. They gave in, and assured me they could paint over it sometime next week (thank you!). They're still brown, but I have faith that they won't last.

In any case, I left the office, went back to my new and empty apartment, sat on the floor, and cried.

I was just a wee bit overwhelmed, y'all. It happens.

Then I sucked it up, and started unloading the truck. I met a neighbor (Stella, lives downstairs), and an older man saw me moving in alone, took pity on me, and helped me out, piling my stuff in the dining room to be sorted out later.

I went to bed on an air mattress that night after a three-hour phone conversation with my dear friend Kali, exhausted, overwhelmed, but HOME.

Hokay, so.

I owe y'all a post. Like for realsies.

But I'm in the process of searching for my camera connector. As soon as I find that I'll have pictures and other wonderful goodness to share.

In the meantime, know that I'm here in Austin, settling in and loving it.

And I have a job interview tomorrow. It's for a bar/lounge, so it's not My Dream Job. But it is, in fact, A Job. And that's wonderful.

Reasons I LOVE Texas.

Picked this up in Brenham, where they make Blue Bell. YUM.

Today I move to Austin.

There will be pictures, I promise.

I have to dig out my camera, but there will be pictures.

Much love from Texas,

Caro-Jo