Finger on the Globe

Have you ever done that before? Closed your eyes, spun a globe, put your finger down, landed on some random island in the Pacific and said, "Someday I'm going to live there"? I have. And I can tell you, the places where Ray and I were contemplating living were already on the short list of places I didn't care to live in. Let me tell you, trying to find a place between Atlanta and Ellijay is pretty tough when Ellijay is 80 miles away. But this weekend, we made a decision. Not Woodstock, not Canton.

Ellijay.

I am officially moving to the hills. Blue Ridge hills, not like the MTV Hills (that I really hope someone else watches), because that's a whole lot more glamorous and I'm sure it would be easier to find jobs because, let's face it, the north Georgia mountains don't offer as many places to work as L.A. does. Unless I wanted to work at Taco Bell or Wal-Mart. But, really, it's the best decision, and I'm okay with it. It's cheaper, so it gives me more time to find a real job that I actually want instead of taking any job I can find. I can look for part-time internships or jobs that'll give me experience. And Ray loves his job and I'm okay with giving a little since he waited for two years for me to graduate. It's good, and at least we'll be there for the prettiest time of year (have I told you yet that I looooovvvvve the fall?). Now, after all this time learning how to drive really fast between Athens and Dallas, I have to slow down because Ellijay drivers apparently don't have to hurry.

But a reason to rejoice: Ellijay is getting a Chick-fil-A and an IHOP. Ray and I actually drove almost an hour over a mountain to Dalton Sunday just because he wanted pancakes and I wanted an omelette. Even though Ray sprained his ankle Saturday (we played tennis--yes, I was winning :) ) and it was throbbing the whole time, we wanted IHOP. Not just Bisquick or eggs from the Piggly Wiggly, but it had to be the International House of Pancakes. Yeah, we're that cool. So we get good chicken and some breakfast food. YAY.

On the subject of jobs, I'm getting creative looking in the mountains. I'm really going to have to sell myself. Any hints? (Please, no stiletto or fishnet jokes.)

Now I'm in the process of finding florists. It's fun. For anyone wanting to plan a wedding... use weeds. It's easier. Don't get this grand idea of flowers overflowing from tables and altars. Weeds grow in the backyard. And they overflow. Easy.

Off to eat dinner!