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Yesterday was one of the most emotionally draining days I’ve had in lo’ my last 25 years. I don’t yet know how much detail I’m going to go into any of it, so I guess we’ll both see when I’m done writing. This could be a long one, folks.

Part I. The scary one.

My grandfather had a heart attack early yesterday afternoon. I heard they had to stop his heart twice to get his heartbeat under control, because it was beating around 200bpm when they brought him in. As a comparison, when I’m running a mile at my top current speed, my heart rate is around 180bpm. And I’m not 71. I left work around 3pm to go visit him in the hospital. He looked okay, and was cracking jokes and telling stories from the moment I got there until I left the hospital at around 6pm, so I think he’ll be alright in the end. They kept him overnight so they could run tests on him today.

I worry that this week has been tough on my grandma — she had just gotten back yesterday from eastern Iowa, where my uncle Jeff had an emergency appendectomy performed, and then she had to go through this. She’s essentially touring state hospitals this week, I guess.

Part II. The sad one.

While on the way in to the emergency room yesterday afternoon, I ran into an old friend walking out of the same area. Carly and I were really good friends during my (our) teens, though we’d lost touch and I hadn’t seen her in probably four years. Carly, it seems, has a pretty mean case of leukemia. Somewhere, deep in the back of my head, I knew this. I knew it like one knows something told them about a friend of a friend, in an off-hand sort of way. But it didn’t really strike home until I saw her standing there. Her cancer has been in remission for a couple of months now, but she still has a couple months of 5x-weekly chemo to look forward to.

I lose touch with friends all too easily. In part it happens naturally. In part, it’s the fact that I hate the telephone and thus avoid it. And in part it has something to do with the fact that I turn into an introverted hermit the second I stop surrounding myself with social people. Regardless, something about this pattern will have to change.

Part III. The emotional one.

My sister called my mom while we were all sitting in the hospital. Someone let it slip aloud that I was present, and so Sandy requested to talk to me. My mom handed the phone my way, and after I was done glaring around the room, I spoke to my sister for the first time since May-ish.

I haven’t talked about my sister much here, but a few of you know what’s going on in the family. For those that don’t, for the meantime I’ll just say that my sister and I are not really on speaking terms right now, though I don’t know how aware she is of this fact. She hurt me, and my family, rather deeply. I haven’t talked about it here because 1) others (mom, Eric, etc) have elsewhere, and 2) I’m not going to waste too much of my life worrying about what she’s done/is doing/will do.

Anyway, point being, I spoke to my sister, and we had a short but entirely civil conversation. I realize this may sound anti-climatic compared to the other parts of my day, but it was still an emotional struggle, and I’m going chronologically here.

Part IV. The scary/sad/emotional/difficult one.

Dana and I broke up last night. It wasn’t the result of a fight, or bitter words thrown in anger. It was the result of a quiet, honest conversation. In the end, I was the one who said the words that made it real, but it was at least in small part a mutual understanding. We both knew and admitted that there was something not-right in our relationship, and that there had been for some time. Dana said she was willing to try to work on it a bit longer, but I worried that if we drew it out any longer it would just make it harder in the end. We’d already had ten months invested; how hard would it be to end things if we got to a year with no positive change?

The reasons for the breakup, I think, are largely personal and our own, and should remain so. Suffice it to say that I think the world of her, and hope the best for her, and I (we) eventually simply realized that our relationship was not the best for either of us. I honestly hope we can remain friends in the long term, because she was my friend first and foremost, and the breakup was extremely painful but not bitter. I recognize, though, that that’s going to take time, if it happens at all. For now, our group plan activities this and next Saturday (bars this week, Halloween party the next) no longer include me.

And that’s one of the tough parts of this particular breakup: Dana was my strongest remaining tie to Ames. I still have a lot of friends in Ames, admittedly, but they are predominately ~our~ friends, and she’s the remaining Amesian. I worry it’s going to be even tougher now to get together with all of the people I care about in Ames. And Dana pointed out last night (truthfully, and I appreciate it!) that I haven’t called a single one of my Ames friends since I’ve moved, which really caught me by surprise.

To them (you), I say this: I am very sorry, and I will remedy this. I could really use a friend or two right now, and I hope you’ll have me.

So the move went well, dear readers, but I still don’t have an Internet tube hooked up to my house, so I may be slow in blogging/responding to emails in the immediate future. In case you haven’t already noticed. ;)

Last weekend marked my first home improvement weekend in, literally, forever. On my own home, at least. I focused all of my mental and most of my physical energies (and quite a few of Danar’s energies, too) on the basement living room (henceforth referred to as the living room… I’m thinking about calling the upstairs one the library or parlor or something). The result being, it’s now a different color. Yay. :)

Two-thirds of my basement is now a really rich reddish-orange color called Tucson Red. The other third is an off-white called Timid White. Not the best names ever, really, but the colors are pretty. For your viewing pleasure, they’re available yonder. RGB approximations thereof, anyway. I happen to think it looks really good, but it did take a ton of work.

I woke up around 9:30am Saturday, got dressed, and headed out to the Woodsmith Store. One of the benefits of working at August Home is an employee discount at said store, so I figured they were a pretty good place to start. Especially considering they’re a Benjamin Moore carrier (which sounds very disease-like but is much happier in reality). $160 and 90 minutes later, I was on my way back home with two gallons of paint, a gallon of primer, accessories (such as plastic dropcloths) out the wazoo, and a new random orbital sander. That’s right… baby’s first power tool purchase! :)

Once I got home, I moved all of the furniture out of the living room and got to sanding. Dana got there around 1:30pm, and she starting wiping down the walls behind me as I sanded. Once all the sanding was done (which took a few hours and two pads of sandpaper), we started taping off the walls and laying drop cloths. Once ~that~ was done, it was time to prime. We each took turns, one with the roller while the other “cut in” (I’m told it’s called) the edges of things. Once the walls were prime, we headed to Menards (I bought a dozen compact fluorescent light bulbs for $12!) and Home Depot (two floor lamps and half a dozen wall outlets to replace the hodgepodge assortment in the basement). When we got back, it was time to start painting.

Two and a half hours later, the first coat of paint was on the walls, and we realized we were going to have to wait a few hours for the paint to dry before we could put on the second coat (four hours, according to the paint can, the resident expert on said matters). So, we went out to dinner at El Aguila Real (or as Amanda calls it, the Regal Eagle), stopped off for some beer and ice cream on the way home, and then watched a movie on Dana’s laptop. Four hours, three beers, and half a pint of ice cream later, it was time to start the second coat. Once that coat was completed, we staggered back upstairs and headed to bed. Lights were out around 4:30am Sunday.

So I learned this weekend that, with just one person helping, we can prep, sand, prime, and paint an entire room in just one day, as long as you’re comfortable with very large values of “day.” It was a great experience, all told, and I had a good time. I’ll post some pictures when I get them. Dana snagged a bunch of before and after shots. Next up: the library!

I was supposed to play paintball on Sunday. I was inexplicably not in the mood. ;)

So I move into my first house on Saturday. In three days. I’ll be signing the final paperwork on Friday, in two days time. Suddenly, that seems like a phenomenally short time to wait for something so big. All told, I’m excited, scared, happy, nervous, and slightly short of breath.

The last week or two has been a blur of planning, working, doing, scheduling, calling, and all sorts of other house-purchasing-related activities. Some plans pop up on my radar only to be shot down for lack of time. For instance, I was hoping to paint the living room on Thursday night, figuring it’d be easier before I moved in all the furniture. However, as Dana pointed out to me, given my schedule, I don’t have a lot of time to pack my Amesian belongings. I can’t afford to spend an evening (or even most of one) painting, if I don’t want to risk infuriating the worker bees on Saturday. So, the painting has been delayed for the short term.

I’d probably have more time to pack (and thus, to paint) were I willing to give up my social and quasi-social activities. Alas, not gonna do it. Monday, for instance, I jogged and helped my dad set up furniture in the new place in lieu of packing. Yesterday, I played racquetball in the evening, though I did get some packing done (with the Danar’s help) afterwards. I’m going out with Des Moines friends this evening, and won’t get to packing until late. I’ll be jogging again tomorrow, though afterwards I plan to spend a great deal time packing, you know, before and after Grey’s Anatomy. And Friday, I plan to close on the house, go home to pack, play racquetball (for the last time in a long time… sigh) in the evening, and then resume packing until it’s all done. The good news is, it will get done. Because, you know, it has to. That the frame of mind what got me through grad school last semester, and that’s what’ll get my packing done this week. :)