First off, thanks to those who read and commented on my blog the other day. I appreciate it. My Mom ended up calling me the day after and apologizing, so all is good.
I may end up going with my sister next time, since she said it'd just be her, me, and one girl she knows from work (who I've met several times and seems nice). And she said the place (the place being a restaurant slash bar) is very low-key and has booths you can sit in, so it's a little less "I'm out in the middle of the floor surrounded by people and they're all looking, agh!". Sounds a little more like something I could deal with, so I'll probably tag along next time. Should be at least somewhat fun. And I'm sure it'd make my Mom happy too. (Funny that me going to a bar to drink makes my Mom happy, if you look at it without context. Heh.)
As for the title of my blog today, it's related to me moving, and how much I really, really hate moving. I know I'm not alone in this. And I'm only moving to another apartment in the same complex, but still: stress. So that's why I picked "other" for my mood too, because they don't have a mood for "can't I just telekinetically move all my belongings with the power of my mind alone? No? WHY?"
Reminds me of this comedianne I like (Sue Murphy) who does this bit on moving that cracks me up. All about how when you start packing you're all methodical and proper about it, wrapping things in newspaper and keeping them organized and all, but eventually you always just reach the point where you're randomly throwing everything in one box together, like dishes, clothes, your cat (ha), whatever, and then writing on it "CRAP I DON'T NEED. I HATE MY CRAP!" Hee hee. Love that.
