Fantasmargonical!

fan・tas・mar・go・ni・cal adj. an upgrade from fantastic, awesome, and wonderful.

Y'learn something new every day. This was taught me by an Australian guy who came into Tuzigoot while I was working yesterday. I asked how they were, and the reply was, "Fantasmargonical!". I thought a moment, accepted their money, then asked, "Did you say phantasmagorical?" The couple laughed and the man explained that, no, he said "fantasmargonical" and defined the word for me. At which point I took out my pen and paper and asked him to spell it and define it again. Pretty sure this is my new favorite word!

Yesterday was my last official day of working at Tuzigoot - although I will be there again tonight for a special event, but I don't really think that that counts. I picked up a few things and received a box from my parents of things that I'll be needing/wanting for my next assignment. Chief among each category is my new clothes drying rack and my Bodie work shirt, respectively. I just heard from the scheduler over there saying that we'll be doing four 10-hour days a week again this season. Yay! I love three-day weekends: you can get so much more done on them. Anyway, I feel like I have everything I need now to be prepared for my next job, and that means I am officially packing. I know, I know, I've been saying this for a few weeks now. But now it is really going to happen, because hey: this is my last week here! My last night in town is going to be spent at a going-away cookout (BBQ ribs!!!), so I need to be legitimately productive for these next 6 days and get everything ready to go so that when Sunday the 20th comes I can just load up, go to church, and role on outta here.

Yesterday I took on the role of pre-packing declutterer by bringing a few things to the Goodwill: my old pair of running shoes, and both my SCA baseball caps. (I figure I don't wear them often enough for it to be worth it to expand my collection any.) I'm really proud of myself, because this is the first time in a long time that I have been able to go in and donate my stuff myself. So often in my purging I make my parents do the deed - because I know that if I see all that stuff again I'll probably flake out. But this time, for once, I brought the items down there myself and physically handed them over to the lady behind the counter. I figure if I can't actually be the one to get rid of the stuff, then I'm not really practicing what I preach. I need to be a little more independent about all this and stop shuffing it off on my parents all the time.

I guess you could say that I'm growing up. Well isn't that just fantasmargonical.