I say I'm almost unpacked because one of my suitcases won't open. It's been that kind of two days.
I was so happy to be able to cook for myself again. I was planning to make teriyaki chicken, veggies and brown rice for dinner tonight so I could enjoy a nice, healthy meal while I watch my friends The Sopranos sweep the Emmys, but when I got home from the store yesterday, I immediately christened the lovely tile floor with an entire bottle of teriyaki sauce, and got glass in my foot and teriyaki sauce all over my sandals. Mmmm, my shoes smell delicious -- like roasted garlic teriyaki that's been sitting out over night. And they're not at all sticky.
I guess it will just be plain chicken, veggies and brown rice tonight, because I don't feel like going back to the store.
However, it's nice not to be in a hotel room for now. If I were still traveling, hotels would be fine. Now that I'm settling down for awhile, I just want to be settled.
Ridiculously, this place has enough bedrooms for me to have company and my company to have company. I could sleep in a different bed every night of the week, if I didn't mind sleeping in bunk beds.
I'm sitting out on the back balcony, five floors above the constantly running fountains and lazy river that go with our condo complex, jacked in to a neighbor's wireless because I don't have the code for my condo's service. Don't bust me -- I'm getting the code tomorrow, I swear.
It's lovely here today -- not hot, not humid, but sunny and breezy. I start the new job tomorrow and am strangely not nervous in the least. I already have a story -- my downstairs neighbors are a film crew here for a few weeks. I just have to find out what they are working on.
I'm learning my way around the MB. I know where all the important stuff is: Barnes & Noble, Best Buy, Bed Bath & Beyond, Costco, the Food Lion, the Piggly Wiggly and Sticky Fingers, when I've had enough brown rice and want some tasty barbecue.
I haven't been to the farmers' market yet, but I'll do that next weekend. Something to note about The South: The city limits signs don't tell the population, unlike California, where we want everyone to know how big we are, or the elevation, unlike Colorado, where they want everyone to know how high they are.
Here, it just says the name of the town or city, but then there will be a big signs telling people how to get to the farmers' market. Everyone here is proud of them. So, OK, I'll go check it out.
On a completely different note, I just have to show off the view from my front door:
Yep, that's the Atlantic.
6 comments:
Myrtle Beach is so lucky to have you. Can't wait to hear your stories, Lorena. Clean up that sauce off your feet and hold a room for me!
I promise to have the teriyaki smell out of the house by the time you arrive. And thanks. I miss you guys, though!
Just say the word and a Sopranos-based box of goodness will be sent to your door.
Oh, my friend. I need some Sopranos goodness!
Send the new address to mshea at modbee, baby.
I've got to get a P.O. Box because my condo doesn't have mail facilities. But the person who handles P.O. boxes at the place that's called "Mailboxes" is not there. Huh? You run a store that's all about mailboxes, but you don't know how to rent them out?
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