Actually, it’s just one question (two,if you feel generous in your commenting). About a year ago, Dave over at Wicked Gay Blog asked “What is your favorite part of a man’s body?” I’m going to modify that question a little, though you are more than welcome to tell me what is your favorite part of man’s body is (though like Dave said in his post, we need to exclude the penis, because we all obviously love penis). What I want to know is this:

What is the first thing you notice about a guy?

For me it’s one of two things. If I see him from behind, well the first thing I notice is his, well, his behind. If I see him from the front, I am most often drawn to his eyes. Then my eyes will travel to various other parts. There are so many things that can make a guy attractive (and I am only speaking superficially here, because I tend to rank personality and intelligence at the top of my list). It could be his nose or his ears. It could be his bulge or if he’s freeballing in athletic shorts, his VPL (visible penis line, for,those who might not know). It’s also according to how he is attired. If he’s been working out and only has on shorts, then I’m going to check out his chest and stomach, and if he turns around his back and shoulders.

If I had to pick a favorite part of a man’s body, I’d have to say that I love a nice bubble butt. I love having something to grab onto. That gets me every time. However, if I see a guy without a shirt, I am drawn to his chest. He doesn’t have to have perfectly chiseled pecs either, but if there is some definition and he has nice nipples that really does drive me wild, mainly because I want to nibble on them.

You now know mine and why, so what about you? What is the first thing you notice about a guy? And, as a bonus, what is your favorite part of a man’s body?

  
It has been an incredibly busy week getting settle into my new place, and while I’m not completely settled yet, I don’t have any appointments tomorrow. I can just sleep in and enjoy my new and very comfortable mattress that was delivered yesterday. The only thing that I do need to do is walk over to the post office and pick up my keys to my p.o. box. When I paid for it, the keys that I was given didn’t work, so they had to rekey it. I seriously doubt I’ll have any mail, but you never know.

Every time I have ever moved into a new place, I forget how much there is to do. There is even more when you pack light and do it all yourself. I never realize how many unexpected expenses there are when moving to a new place. It didn’t help that I had a mishap on the way up and was delayed a day, which actually added the expense of two extra nights because even though I cancelled my reservation at the hotel I’d planned to stay at the first night, it was after the 24 hour deadline for cancellations. I’ll get reimbursed for most of my expenses, but I’m not sure when I will get that reimbursement.

Moving is also very stressful. I’m in a new place far away from anything that is familiar to me. Thank goodness for Apple Maps. It’s told me where grocery stores and mattress stores and various other stores I needed were. It’s nic for anything that makes this process easier.

  
First off, since neither FedEx or UPS would bring my deliveries up to my apartment, I had to carry them all up the stairs. That really pissed me off. Anyway, I got it all up to my apartment and then began the task of assembling everything. With a few short breaks here and there I got all but one piece put together. My hands are so sore though that I can barely type, in fact it hurts quite a bit. It really was a busy day. I can’t wait for my new mattress to arrive today. I’ll probably just make up the bed, strip naked, and snuggle in for a nap.

  
I had a busy day yesterday and night last night. It was the first business day since I’d arrived so there was lots to do. Today should be busy too. I’m having cable and Internet installed. Plus, most of my furniture is scheduled to arrive, so I’ll be busy setting it up.

  
Moving would be a lot more fun if these guys had been there to help, but as it is I’m just taking it slow, bringing a few things in at a time. It’s a lot of work to move into a second floor apartment all by yourself. Most of my furniture should be delivered on Wednesday and Thursday. I’m not sure when the cable will be installed but hopefully soon (I might go crazy without TV and Internet). I have to call them back today, assuming they aren’t closed for Columbus Day. I hope that by this time next week, I’ll be settled in, since a week from today is my official start date at my new job.

Then

Now

I’ve had the “girls” nearly a year now. Tuesday will be a year since I adopted them. They’ve grown so much and Edith (black calico) is continuing to grow. Her particular breed (she’s a dessert lynx mix) usually doesn’t stop growing until they are two years old, while most domestic shorthair, like Lucy, usually stop after a year. I think that Lucy (gray calico) is as big as she will get. I’d originally planned to fly Edith back with me at Christmas. It would have been a shorter trip and easier on her. However, the apartment that I found does not allow pets. This apartment will do for at least six months, and then I can start looking for something that will allow pets. Regardless, Lucy will probably stay with my aunt who she likes more than me anyway. Lucy is a bit of a scaredy cat. She runs and hides from almost everyone. Edith on the other hand demands everyone’s attention, usually in hopes that they will give her food. She likes to sit on my shoulders (and sometimes my head) as I have my morning coffee.

If HRH was still alive, I wouldn’t have stopped until I found a place that allowed cats, but these girls have been around my aunt enough to be comfortable with her and quite honestly might just prefer her. I will miss them terribly, but for now, this is the choice I had to make. I know they have a good home and will be well taken care of. I will still miss them though, and they might miss me a little. Lucy is completely indifferent to me, and Edith only thinks about food and playing. So, it’s quite possible that they won’t miss me nearly as much as I will miss them.

  
Henry David Thoreau said, “All misfortune is but a stepping stone to fortune.” It has been a while since I’ve written about my love of the transcendentalists, but I love the philosophy of Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau. One of the things I will definitely do once I move to Vermont is to take a trip down to Concord, Massachusetts, to visit Walden Pond. The transcendentalists had a way of thinking that too many people in America forget, and I personally think “Self-Reliance” by Emerson is one of the most important essays ever written. If you’ve never studies it or read it, I urge you to go back and read this post I wrote several years ago.

With that being said, I want to go back to Thoreau’s quote, “All misfortune is but a stepping stone to fortune.” I think this is especially true in my life right now. I was completely devastated when I lost my job back in May, but like the Phoenix, I have risen from the ashes. I told one of my friends that I was going to dinner with some of the people I used to work with from the school. People I wanted to be able to say goodbye to and do miss. That friend told me yesterday: 

You have done everything you could possibly do to pull yourself out of the hole you were in last spring. I’m sure there will be some at the dinner who were envious of what you have achieved. Surely you weren’t the only one there who would like to be working somewhere else, but without the impetus of getting fired, it is so difficult to light a fire under one’s butt as you can testify to! You are the ultimate success story: a great new career, colleagues who already value working with you, a super cute place to live, a liberal state in which to now call home, and finally…able to be your true self. Remember early on when I told you looking for a job is one of the hardest things you will ever do? You are now living proof of that. But oh, the feeling of accomplishment when it is over. I hope you never go through it again. But I am so, so proud of you for having done it….You were judged, Joe, and not found wanting. That has to feel spectacular!!! 

It really does feel spectacular. I know I would have never changed careers, and I would have never even looked for this job, if I had not had the “misfortune” of being fired. While I was horrified that it happened, so embarrassed when it happened, and fell into a deep depression, I refused to give up, and I did turn something that I thought at the time was a great misfortune into something very fortunate. Most of my friends that I met last night for dinner are older than me. They have either retired or close to retirement. There were only two who were younger than me. Of those two, one is only a few years younger; the other was a student of mine (her mom is a good friend of mine).   

The student had been a very troubled teen. Her parents didn’t know what to do with her, but refused to give up, but they were at a loss of what to do. While most people treated her as an outcast, I treated her like the star student I knew she was. I encouraged her writing and poetry. Of all my students, from middle school to college, she was the most talented writer. In fact, she’s one of the most talented writers I’ve ever read. I wish she would do more with it, but after about a year of working with her, her mother came to me and said, “Thank you. My daughter thinks the world of you, and she has changed so much since you have been encouraging her.” It was moment like that, which had made me want to be a teacher. The problem was that most of my students weren’t like her. They were spoiled brats who had a sense of entitlement. While I wish here had been more like this student, and there were a few, I know that teaching was just slowly killing me because most students didn’t care about learning. Apathy is one of the greatest dangers to this country, which is why I admire the transcendentalists. 

So when I lost my teaching job, I reevaluated my priorities. Are their other more indirect ways to teach? The answer is yes. Working in a museum means that you are creating a teaching tool for those who want to learn. What a great feeling that is! People actually are interested in what you are doing. I also get a chance at a new life. Because of that, many of the people at dinner last night were envious. How many times do you actually get to start over? 

Basically, this move is a reboot of my life. It’s a fresh start. I am getting a new place to live in a new location. I am getting new furniture and taking with me as little as possible. (For now, my cats will stay here with my aunt, who will take great care of them.) I will still have the same clothes (though I’ll get some new winter clothing) and a few small appliances, but everything else I will be starting from scratch. For the first time, I feel like I have a real grown up job. Not to diminish school teachers, but it had always been meant to be a temporary job for me until I found a college teaching job. So with this new jobs, I’m not just in a temporary holding pattern. This is going to be my career, and I am happy. 

Not many of us get a second chance, and I will thank God for the rest of my life for this one. I took a misfortune in life and used it as a stepping stone to fortune. I’ve got a new start and I don’t want to screw this one up. I want to do my best, and I will do my best. This is a chance of a lifetime.

  
When I said the other day that I was overwhelmed, I meant it, so I am basically taking a day off from blogging. First off, I’ve been kind of sick all weekend. Second, there is so much whirling around in my head that I have no idea what to write. Today, I will mostly spend packing and making a few phone calls in an attempt to find a place to live. I also have a bit of paperwork to fill out as a new hire. It’s quite likely that if I can find the right place this week and can work things out, I will be starting my new job a week from today; otherwise, my start date will be pushed back two more weeks.

  
Searching for an apartment 1350 miles away is not easy. I just want a decent apartment, but apparently in Vermont, apartment complexes are few and far between, at least in the part of Vermont where I will be living. Luckily, my new place of employment has some resources to help with locating a place to live. Internet searches seem to just scratch the surface of what’s out there. I’ll call tomorrow and get into the university’s system and then I can use their resources. I may have to fly up next week and do some searching. The other option is to pack the car, drive up, crash at the house of my new boss or my coworkers (they all offered me a place to crash), and then find a place.  

By the way, if I haven’t said this before, I will be working with an amazing group of people. Each has told me how excited they are that I will be joining them as part of their team, and each has offered assistance in any way possible. While I have only met them in person for two days, I feel like I already know them. They welcomed me from the very beginning. Apparently, when the committee (which is the whole museum staff of four) voted, the vote was unanimous in my favor.

The logistics of everything will be worked out in the next week. I feel sure of it. I’ll find out tomorrow when my probable start date will be. HR would like for me to start at the beginning of a pay period, so I’m guessing that means I will likely have one of two dates to choose from since the university has pay periods starting every two weeks. As soon as I get home from my doctor’s appointment, I’ll give HR a call.

Have I mentioned that all of this is a little overwhelming? Very exciting, but overwhelming.

Also, I wanted to thank all of you for your prayers. Miss E pulled through the surgery better than the doctors could have hoped. She’s a truly remarkable woman. At 101, she’s got spunk. I saw her yesterday, and she was giving them hell. Not in a mean malicious way, but she wants to do things her way. She’s nice about it, but she lets them know nonetheless. When they attached the blood/oxygen monitor to her finger, she did not like that and removed it four times. She finally gave up trying to take it off when I told her that she had to have it on and that they would just come and put it back on. She didn’t believe her daughter when she said that. The pain medication had her a bit disoriented, but she had amazing moments of clarity. When I left, she asked me when I would be leaving for Vermont.  

She is elderly and fragile, but I’d never call her weak. Of course she isn’t out of the woods yet, but we will keep praying, and I hope all of you will as well. One of these days, God willing, she’s going to break the record for the oldest living woman. Of course, she will never admit it. She hasn’t been truthful about her age for over 80 years. You see, she was a few years older than her husband. In her day, women didn’t marry younger men, so she shaved off a few years. There is no doubt what her age really is, but she’ll tell you she’s 98. At her 101st birthday party, she admitted that she might be 100, but like her driver’s license she claims that is wrong. Her version is that they put the wrong date on her birth certificate. On her 100th birthday she claimed for weeks leading up to it that she was only 95, then she remembered that she’d already had a big celebration for that milestone, so she changed it to 97. So we through a huge 97th birthday party.

I’m so glad that she made it through the surgery and as long as things continue to improve, then she is likely to make it through this. The fight will come from her not wanting to go to rehab for physical therapy. She will insist that she go home and they come to her. She will get her way too, because at 101, you’ve earned the right to have it your way. Besides, she can afford it, she owns one of the largest cattle farms in the county. Her late husband collected land like some people collect stamps. Honestly, you’d never know it. She worked all her life, as did her late husband. I doubt she knows her true monetary worth, but for all who know her, she is priceless.