I mean...that's all I even have to say about that.
BUT HOLY SHIT, I don't even believe it. I am on my website! I am TYPING ON MY WEBSITE. This might make me teary, and I never thought I would live to see the day. I am sure I will complain about it all in much tedious, annoying detail below, so get all psyched for that. Obviously.
DK's birthday corresponded precisely with the time that something vague and technical went wrong with the back-end of my website. This vague and technical problem started popping up, "NOT FOUND! FORBIDDEN! NO! GO AWAY!" errors every time I tried to log in. And this was...new. Usually, when my site has a conniption, all that happens is that the comments turn off and an entry or two gets sucked into the Internet ether. Locking me out entirely, however? Hello, new problem! Nice fucking timing.
So, I dug in where I could, and probably made things ten times worse by my fumbling, and then this story goes on for many more paragraphs, during which I tried to figure out if the problem was the server, which was experiencing a “DNS Failure,” it informed me, or if it was the site itself, which wanted nothing to do with me whatsoever. And so I am not going to get into the details, but I will say that HOLY SHIT, TODAY, this actual day that is happening right NOW, and for the first time in...months, everything seems to be turned back on. (I mean, I think it is. I haven’t tried to publish this yet. Maybe I am in for a big surprise that will involve cussing! Maybe I am just talking to myself. In which case: HI ME! THIS SHIT IS STILL BROKEN). Provided that this is working, then I have all this shiny new bandwidth to play with, and I am upgraded in vague ways I do not understand, and I am sort of unreasonably excited about all of it. And, hey there, world!
But, oh, you guys. So many things have happened! Nothing, like, important, but you know. Things like falling down and creating stuff and going places that are ill-advised. Some of these things have been really funny and awesome, and they would happen and I would think, "Holy shit, I've got to write about this!" before remembering, with crushing disappointment, that the Internet dumped me. The Internet dumped me, and refused to take my calls, and stole all my good earrings and scrawled my phone number on all the City Council toilet walls.
The Internet didn't want to hear about the satisfaction of the Ten Kilometer walk in support of Cerebral Palsy Awareness, which took away life from this lovely boy I was supporting and by all means in ninety different ways needs to go hung already.
Or about how my neighbor Helen was attacked by a homicidal cat, or my new baking skills, or DK's new sleeping protocols or our best friend's glamorous wedding.
But see, I couldn't tell you about all this because the Internet had moved on, probably to someone on Instagram, and I was left a sad, clingy mess, begging, "Please? Can't we try again? I’ll be better this time!" while pouring my heart out to Coding representatives across the country ("I SWEAR WE WERE SO HAPPY ONCE"). Because I have pride and all.
In the end, I fought for our love, and won, mostly because I threw money at the Internet until it agreed to give me another chance. Because, good news! The Internet is kind of a whore.
(JUST KIDDING LOVE YOU INTERNET NEVER LEAVE ME AGAIN).
Aaand, where was this going? Yes. So DK and I packed up our entire HOUSE this weekend and moved four thousand kilometers away. Scary. I found myself in the fetal position several times last week.
It BLOWS, y'all. Having to pack up all of our things in boxes (as that is, you know, sort of the cornerstone of the moving process), and I filled FIVE trash bags (seriously. Yes.) with crap from my drawers, and...and...ugh. It's driving me up a wall. Then now we have to unpack all of our things from the boxes and it's 6am and I'm late for work because WHERE DID YOU PUT MY COMBS? Sweetheart?
But, you know. Worth it. Our own house, bigger kitchen, greener compound, better everything, DK and I's first home. Worth it even, to open up your kitchen cabinet and discover the seventy thousand packets of SALT, SALT EVERYWHERE, that have apparently taken residence and begun to breed.
Y'all. Why do I have so much salt? Am I scaring away evil spirits? Am I arming myself to kill slugs? I do not know.
I'll be back. With gardening produce. If only this post will publish.
