You may not think so by first glance of my shorter stature (or reading my posts actually) but I'm sort of blunt - sometimes loud, sometimes obnoxious, but to the point. Somewhere in college I found my voice, assertive and defiant, amidst what used to be a naive and shy personality, and, to others' chagrin, haven't stopped using it since.
In my opinion - and I'm only speaking for myself - this is one of my best qualities. For example, the house my roommates and I just moved into had a plethora of issues and because of my oh-so-direct nature, most of these, of which a few were very major according to uh.. the SEATTLE BUILDING CODES, helloooo, were resolved this week. Yes, thank you, no really, don't get up.. please.. ok, well, if you must..
However, and I know you're shocked by this, my candid ways have earned me a negative title a time or two.. or maybe even resulted in the loss of my job once.. or 3 times.. maybe.. just hypothetically, of course. I jokingly term it A.W.A. or Angel With Attitude. And again - sometimes this is a GOOD THING.. but if your job, like mine might've been before, is to work in customer care in really, ANY industry, then there are times when maybe you should.. um.. maybe.. care and I.. well.. didn't. And really, that will only take you so far - like only as far as multiple customer complaints will get you - which is not far at all if you're getting my drift, people. No, it is not.
There are also times when oh, I sort of don't think before I speak and something maybe slightly, for lack of a better term, inappropriate comes out of my mouth for no reason whatsoever.. like the devil has sent his stupidest minion to possess me for the sake of pure entertainment. Like.. Tuesday when I told my boss that the next day I was going to wait in line with the multitudes of rabid fans of the Indigo Girls, most of whom were 'dykes'. Now I'm no homophobe and if you can believe it, I meant this in the best possible way as they certainly ARE rabid fans.. and they most certainly ARE dykes. This has been made clear to me by lesbians themselves who understood my usage and in this particular context. But, it just so happened that well.. my HR/CFO walked by me just as I was uttering this particular word. Um.. yeah, smooooth. Did I get a talking to? Oooooh yeah.. Did he force me to make a somewhat PUBLIC apology to my WHOLE DEPARTMENT yesterday?? Um... yes he did that too. BUT - did I offend ANYONE, including the actual LESBIANS in my office with whom I associate FREELY outside my office?! Surprisingly, no! They were not up in arms! I am not a bigot or gay basher or homo-hater of any kind! Phew.. I was a bit nervous there for a second.. Apparently 'dyke' is a fairly acceptable term, to these women anyway, which I kind of already knew and why I used the word to begin with, but please take my advice - maybe don't utter things like that from your cubicle, ok? Just sayin..
So it shouldn't surprise you that I continue to admire this outspoken trait within myself and that I also continue to use poor judgement when trying to put it to action.. Seriously, Tuesday just got better and better.
I went to my friend, Wazhma's, grand re-opening of her lovely store, Retail Therapy and proceeded to mingle with our other friends and make major purchases of very tiny pieces of jewelry, which I thought I deserved after the most recent week's move. And then I noticed him.. the tall drink of water, the man who could give our children an actual chance at body height taller than 5'3" if we were ever to procreate (well, really, me combined with just about anyone could too, I suppose..). I felt like a 2-year-old fascinated by.. well, whatever fascinates a 2-year-old.. and excitedly uttering the only word it knows.. 'PRETTY!' The guy made me nervous as hell so what else was I supposed to do? And since I couldn't actually produce too many words directed to him, I did the next best thing - drank. It wasn't so bad in the beginning.. over about 4 paper cups of champagne. I made nice, talked to our friends with him amidst fun conversation and chatted here and there. No, it was good until later when we left the store and went to another bar where Miss D + 2 cosmos + already ingested (and carbonated = go to head FASTER) champagne = bad.. and for some reason, I keep forgetting that.
So, you know what I did? No.. I'm sure you don't. This is why I'll tell you and you may learn yet another valuable lesson at my expense. At the end of the night, when he and Wazhma decided to leave and had already walked out of said establishment and were a good TWO BLOCKS UP already, I suddenly was afflicted, AFFLICTED I tell you, with courage to oh.. RUN AFTER HIM. And I hear you saying, 'NO! You didn't!'.. but oooh.. YES, I did! And I thought.. well, hey, I'm taking a chance, pursuing the opportunity given to me to do something.. right?! And I get up there and think ok, I'm here! Do the deed! Get the digits! And it goes something like this:
Me: I shouldn't really let you leave (like he didn't JUST do this) before getting your number.
Him: *stunned-deer-in-headlights look* Am I in trouble?
Me: *totally thrown by this reply* Uuuuuuh.. ?
Him: *still not looking flattered like I TOTALLY thought he would be and really not amused enough either* Well, am I in trouble?
Me: *still stammering* Umm.. noooo.. I'm just asking for your number so um.. I can ask you out sometime.
**Ok.. this is getting really bad now. Any vibe that existed - and there WAS a small one people - is suddenly very very gone.**
Him: *Provides number and very obviously, starts to back away..* Oook.. so.. there.
Me: Um.. yes.. there. Ok.. well, then.. ok. See ya.. *Confused*
Friends back at bar in UNISON: WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!?!
Me: *Slightly taken aback - when aback can be taken* What, what?! Did I screw it up?!
Andrew: Well, that probably wasn't the best idea..
And they then start to pick my brave overture apart until I wanted to be swallowed up by the very ground on which I am standing. I mean, I've asked guys out before. It has worked on occasion and you know, SOME guys LIKE it! But if you're wondering, um.. no, he hasn't called back yet so there.. pfffffft.. what-ever. HAPPY?!
Obviously, I've not completely honed my skills and sometimes I'm like a puppy who keeps tripping over its big feet with my open-mouth-insert-foot syndrome, but I don't have any regrets. Ok, scratch that. I don't have many regrets. Ugh.. ok, there are regrets, people.. FINE.. but as the saying goes, 'When opportunity knocks..' um.. well, I forget the rest.. but aren't I PRETTY???
Friday, July 22, 2005
Monday, July 18, 2005
Cuss words, conflicts, and capitalizations!
Please stand by for a public service announcement...
I'M DONE MOVING PEOPLE!
This is not a test. There will be no more random internet solicitations for help with lifting large and inanimate pieces of furniture for small amounts of starchy sustinance in food or liquid form as payment. No, really.. it's COMPLETELY DONE! And this equals MUCH REJOICING!! WHOO HOO!
Yes, it's true. I can hardly believe it myself.. I've cleaned, I've packed and moved yet again and it's FINALLY. FUCKING. OVER. And it wasn't easy.. there were moments of frustration and just all out pain from being on my feet so long, words couldn't be combined into proper sentences, much dirt and stink acquired.. but it's at least over.
I took the day off Friday to do as much as I could alone, which let me say, was a lot. I made a good dent but couldn't get any of the big stuff. A friend helped with the bed that night when we then discovered *dun dun dun* um.. wow, this staircase is uh.. really narrow.. and actually.. hmm.. the only way we can fit the mattress upstairs to my room is to push it up vertically thru this 10 inch space - 10 INCHES PEOPLE - which BARELY fit and there was much grunting and heaving and pulling and panting.. and no one said EVER.. was it good for you? No.. that wasn't said at all! I didn't think any further that anything else but beds might have issues.. why didn't I think that? I don't know.. logic was very much not my friend til the next day.. and really I was still debating when the dresser that houses my cute, little pieces of clothing I WEAR would also not fit.. like up the stairs.. to where it should very much BE fitting! Ugh.. note to self: Need new dresser.. like something I have to BUILD from Ikea and um, LEAVE up there forever!
Anyway..
Saturday started to go well. I got up early, picked up one of the very nice friends from Tribe who offered to help, Ben, and then went to pick up many bagels ordered the night before (See? good plan, Angel, gooood plan!) to offer to all the helpers as gourmet and nourishing payment. Also, I took coffee orders.. oh, don't think I didn't.. before people will work in the morning on a dreary, but muggy Saturday for someone who's practically a complete stranger, they must be encouraged with round, flavored carbohydrates and litres of milky caffeinated beverages. And I provided them happily. Yes I did! Then Ben was dropped off to wait for anyone else who might arrive and my friend, Charlie, and I went to pick up the truck.
This is where things started to get ugly - but only on the inside cuz I was NOT about to let very grumpy ASSHOLES ruin my friggin PERFECT moving day.. no no.. I was calm thru the pissiness. It was a miracle cuz I should really warn you, there are PRICKS at Handy Andy. No.. Andy is NOT handy in my opinion.. Andy is a very RUDE guy I think.. if Andy was even there.. and if not, I bet he's just like the rest of his people with crappy attitudes and bad red neck hair.. I'm just betting.. I will not give them advertising tho, not putting a link to any possible website whatsoever. I will just say they are located near 107th on Aurora and they are ABSOLUTE JERKS who are MEAN and SNIDE and don't deserve anyone's money.. and that's fine cuz I will just pay more money for people at U-Haul or Budget to treat me a lot fucking better!
*ahem*
So we walk in and I let them know I have a reservation.. and they, right then, tell me I better have $150 allowable on my debit card as that's the deposit.. Um.. hey, they told me $20. I was very quickly told no, $150 is the right amount - course this guy, a real charmer I might add, also a mumbler and God, I HATE mumblers.. SPEAK THE FUCK UP OK? ANN-UNC-I-ATE already.. geez.. and I just said, 'oh, no one mentioned that when I called in to make the reservations.' Calmly. And Mr. I'm-just-standing-next-to-Mr.-Charmer-but-I-know-EVERYTHING butted in and snapped, 'He JUST told you!' And in my head I said 'Uh.. ok.. everything ok at home Buddy? Failing that anger management course are you?' But I didn't.. however, I had to say something.. HAD to cuz I WORK in customer care and people, that ain't it. So it just came out.. 'Wow, your customer care sucks, doesn't it?' in a very blunt and oh-so-direct-but-again-CALM manner. Mr. Charmer just looked at me and mumbly-like asked me to 'sign here' and then directed me outside to someone who realized consonants were invented for USING.. and gave me keys. Lovely. THANK YOU.. Fuck..
After THAT b.s. - Charlie and I drove both vehicles back and when I walked into the soon-to-be old place, like 15 really great people were sitting around munching on treats and drinking the orange juice and it was a friggin PARTY! I almost did my happy dance and almost, ALMOST forgot about the really MEAN MEAN ASSHOLES at Handy Andy's. And we moved.. they picked up whatever they could find, put it in the truck rather Tetris-like and were actually pretty darn happy about helping. And thus, so was I! And when everything was loaded, I remembered the best part: BEER!
Among items of nourishment to provide to strangers who help you move, beer is the most important item you can't forget. No, you cannot. Seriously.
So the beer was put into a vehicle to be opened at new place amidst all the moving in.. and when we were all finished, or at least, almost and just needed rest, said beer was thusly opened and drank and many 'ahhs' and much lamenting over stupid STUPID Handy Andy and other sad tales of moving woe shared. It was fucking beautiful!
Goodbyes and thank you's were given to all the Tribers who came to my rescue and off I went to the very not so fun place of Handy Andy's to return their lousy truck. Like I was going to STEAL it or something.. like I LIKE to move.. just do it for a fucking LIVING or something.. IDIOTS.. Here's your damn truck back, is what I wanted to say, but I didn't. No, kept it to a minimal 'thank you', uttered as kindly as possible, which I wanted to change to 'fuck you' but they did have my credit card number.
And then - I had to clean. Oh. My. God. I emerged 4 (yes that's FOUR) hours later from the abode in which I lived for 16 (that's SIXTEEN!) days only.. and I told the guys I'll clean the top floor if you do the bottom. Mind you, I have no deposit of which to receive back, so why this insane act of delirium? I don't know. Someone had to.. it was soooooo bad. I'm sure you don't believe me.. but as an example, I had to PRE-SWEEP the kitchen before the actual sweeping happened.. Yes, really.. I'm so not kidding. And there was still the living and dining rooms, the bathroom and all 3 upstairs bedrooms. I didn't clean when I lived there cuz I knew I was only staying a short time and I didn't want to have to do it twice. And maybe there are filthier people out there.. but um, I don't know where.
So the worst part is over.. I think.. um.. maybe.. Holly and I are moved in and still have a ton of unpacking to do, managing the maze of boxes, trying to find the one thing we absolutely need and is buried.. somewhere.. hmm.. not there.. no, not there either.. crap. But there are many many MANY issues with the new house. Oh here let me list them.
1. ANTS - as in EW!
We have an extra room upstairs with a skylight.. it's so cute and funky.. and there's this red dust on the floor just underneath and where's it coming from and OHMYFUCKINGGOD*asIcantgetfarenoughaway*WHATSONTHEWALL?!?! Yeah. Like BIG ones.. just.. crowded around this one corner, hanging out.. Blech!! *shivers*
2. Toilet leak - uh yeah.. the guys changed out some parts.. and maybe didn't like um.. check to see they did it COMPLETELY? It's only a slow leak.. but you know, I'm sorta PAYING for that water now.. hellooo?
and..
3. Oven = not working. This is no shocker. This thing is older than the invention of heat itself. I asked if it worked when we saw the place and was assured a resounding, 'Of course!' And I thought.. hmm.. we'll see. So amidst all the haggling of what they would and wouldn't replace before moving in - the downstairs carpet, no dishwasher, and after both those things WERE actually done, including a brand new sink and new counters we didn't even ask for, which I do appreciate by the way, and I wonder if we were in some crazy opposite world where 'No' means 'Yes', at least where carpet and new appliances are concerned, I am sorta surprised no one thought.. hey.. I bet this oven should hit the road too.. Yeah, not so much.. that would just be crazy talk.
So what do you think little, assertive and sometimes-bitchy-when-the-time-calls-for-it Angel did? I made a list. Ohhhhhh yes I did.. a big one. FOUR pages people - highlighting our favorites 1, 2, and 3 as stated above.. but making sure to say, um.. all these other things, yeah, still kinda important too... like.. um.. soon. And I taped the list onto the management property company's door this morning.
I was told later, 'The guys won't be coming today' by my roommate...
You know what's coming next, don't you? Miss D. is just getting warmed up and the matches are about ready to be lit under someone's ass.. Excuse me, Landmark? Yeah.. we need to talk... now.
I'M DONE MOVING PEOPLE!
This is not a test. There will be no more random internet solicitations for help with lifting large and inanimate pieces of furniture for small amounts of starchy sustinance in food or liquid form as payment. No, really.. it's COMPLETELY DONE! And this equals MUCH REJOICING!! WHOO HOO!
Yes, it's true. I can hardly believe it myself.. I've cleaned, I've packed and moved yet again and it's FINALLY. FUCKING. OVER. And it wasn't easy.. there were moments of frustration and just all out pain from being on my feet so long, words couldn't be combined into proper sentences, much dirt and stink acquired.. but it's at least over.
I took the day off Friday to do as much as I could alone, which let me say, was a lot. I made a good dent but couldn't get any of the big stuff. A friend helped with the bed that night when we then discovered *dun dun dun* um.. wow, this staircase is uh.. really narrow.. and actually.. hmm.. the only way we can fit the mattress upstairs to my room is to push it up vertically thru this 10 inch space - 10 INCHES PEOPLE - which BARELY fit and there was much grunting and heaving and pulling and panting.. and no one said EVER.. was it good for you? No.. that wasn't said at all! I didn't think any further that anything else but beds might have issues.. why didn't I think that? I don't know.. logic was very much not my friend til the next day.. and really I was still debating when the dresser that houses my cute, little pieces of clothing I WEAR would also not fit.. like up the stairs.. to where it should very much BE fitting! Ugh.. note to self: Need new dresser.. like something I have to BUILD from Ikea and um, LEAVE up there forever!
Anyway..
Saturday started to go well. I got up early, picked up one of the very nice friends from Tribe who offered to help, Ben, and then went to pick up many bagels ordered the night before (See? good plan, Angel, gooood plan!) to offer to all the helpers as gourmet and nourishing payment. Also, I took coffee orders.. oh, don't think I didn't.. before people will work in the morning on a dreary, but muggy Saturday for someone who's practically a complete stranger, they must be encouraged with round, flavored carbohydrates and litres of milky caffeinated beverages. And I provided them happily. Yes I did! Then Ben was dropped off to wait for anyone else who might arrive and my friend, Charlie, and I went to pick up the truck.
This is where things started to get ugly - but only on the inside cuz I was NOT about to let very grumpy ASSHOLES ruin my friggin PERFECT moving day.. no no.. I was calm thru the pissiness. It was a miracle cuz I should really warn you, there are PRICKS at Handy Andy. No.. Andy is NOT handy in my opinion.. Andy is a very RUDE guy I think.. if Andy was even there.. and if not, I bet he's just like the rest of his people with crappy attitudes and bad red neck hair.. I'm just betting.. I will not give them advertising tho, not putting a link to any possible website whatsoever. I will just say they are located near 107th on Aurora and they are ABSOLUTE JERKS who are MEAN and SNIDE and don't deserve anyone's money.. and that's fine cuz I will just pay more money for people at U-Haul or Budget to treat me a lot fucking better!
*ahem*
So we walk in and I let them know I have a reservation.. and they, right then, tell me I better have $150 allowable on my debit card as that's the deposit.. Um.. hey, they told me $20. I was very quickly told no, $150 is the right amount - course this guy, a real charmer I might add, also a mumbler and God, I HATE mumblers.. SPEAK THE FUCK UP OK? ANN-UNC-I-ATE already.. geez.. and I just said, 'oh, no one mentioned that when I called in to make the reservations.' Calmly. And Mr. I'm-just-standing-next-to-Mr.-Charmer-but-I-know-EVERYTHING butted in and snapped, 'He JUST told you!' And in my head I said 'Uh.. ok.. everything ok at home Buddy? Failing that anger management course are you?' But I didn't.. however, I had to say something.. HAD to cuz I WORK in customer care and people, that ain't it. So it just came out.. 'Wow, your customer care sucks, doesn't it?' in a very blunt and oh-so-direct-but-again-CALM manner. Mr. Charmer just looked at me and mumbly-like asked me to 'sign here' and then directed me outside to someone who realized consonants were invented for USING.. and gave me keys. Lovely. THANK YOU.. Fuck..
After THAT b.s. - Charlie and I drove both vehicles back and when I walked into the soon-to-be old place, like 15 really great people were sitting around munching on treats and drinking the orange juice and it was a friggin PARTY! I almost did my happy dance and almost, ALMOST forgot about the really MEAN MEAN ASSHOLES at Handy Andy's. And we moved.. they picked up whatever they could find, put it in the truck rather Tetris-like and were actually pretty darn happy about helping. And thus, so was I! And when everything was loaded, I remembered the best part: BEER!
Among items of nourishment to provide to strangers who help you move, beer is the most important item you can't forget. No, you cannot. Seriously.
So the beer was put into a vehicle to be opened at new place amidst all the moving in.. and when we were all finished, or at least, almost and just needed rest, said beer was thusly opened and drank and many 'ahhs' and much lamenting over stupid STUPID Handy Andy and other sad tales of moving woe shared. It was fucking beautiful!
Goodbyes and thank you's were given to all the Tribers who came to my rescue and off I went to the very not so fun place of Handy Andy's to return their lousy truck. Like I was going to STEAL it or something.. like I LIKE to move.. just do it for a fucking LIVING or something.. IDIOTS.. Here's your damn truck back, is what I wanted to say, but I didn't. No, kept it to a minimal 'thank you', uttered as kindly as possible, which I wanted to change to 'fuck you' but they did have my credit card number.
And then - I had to clean. Oh. My. God. I emerged 4 (yes that's FOUR) hours later from the abode in which I lived for 16 (that's SIXTEEN!) days only.. and I told the guys I'll clean the top floor if you do the bottom. Mind you, I have no deposit of which to receive back, so why this insane act of delirium? I don't know. Someone had to.. it was soooooo bad. I'm sure you don't believe me.. but as an example, I had to PRE-SWEEP the kitchen before the actual sweeping happened.. Yes, really.. I'm so not kidding. And there was still the living and dining rooms, the bathroom and all 3 upstairs bedrooms. I didn't clean when I lived there cuz I knew I was only staying a short time and I didn't want to have to do it twice. And maybe there are filthier people out there.. but um, I don't know where.
So the worst part is over.. I think.. um.. maybe.. Holly and I are moved in and still have a ton of unpacking to do, managing the maze of boxes, trying to find the one thing we absolutely need and is buried.. somewhere.. hmm.. not there.. no, not there either.. crap. But there are many many MANY issues with the new house. Oh here let me list them.
1. ANTS - as in EW!
We have an extra room upstairs with a skylight.. it's so cute and funky.. and there's this red dust on the floor just underneath and where's it coming from and OHMYFUCKINGGOD*asIcantgetfarenoughaway*WHATSONTHEWALL?!?! Yeah. Like BIG ones.. just.. crowded around this one corner, hanging out.. Blech!! *shivers*
2. Toilet leak - uh yeah.. the guys changed out some parts.. and maybe didn't like um.. check to see they did it COMPLETELY? It's only a slow leak.. but you know, I'm sorta PAYING for that water now.. hellooo?
and..
3. Oven = not working. This is no shocker. This thing is older than the invention of heat itself. I asked if it worked when we saw the place and was assured a resounding, 'Of course!' And I thought.. hmm.. we'll see. So amidst all the haggling of what they would and wouldn't replace before moving in - the downstairs carpet, no dishwasher, and after both those things WERE actually done, including a brand new sink and new counters we didn't even ask for, which I do appreciate by the way, and I wonder if we were in some crazy opposite world where 'No' means 'Yes', at least where carpet and new appliances are concerned, I am sorta surprised no one thought.. hey.. I bet this oven should hit the road too.. Yeah, not so much.. that would just be crazy talk.
So what do you think little, assertive and sometimes-bitchy-when-the-time-calls-for-it Angel did? I made a list. Ohhhhhh yes I did.. a big one. FOUR pages people - highlighting our favorites 1, 2, and 3 as stated above.. but making sure to say, um.. all these other things, yeah, still kinda important too... like.. um.. soon. And I taped the list onto the management property company's door this morning.
I was told later, 'The guys won't be coming today' by my roommate...
You know what's coming next, don't you? Miss D. is just getting warmed up and the matches are about ready to be lit under someone's ass.. Excuse me, Landmark? Yeah.. we need to talk... now.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
God likes voodoo dolls.. no really!
So I think God is out to get me. I just get this feeling I'm not on His 'favorites' list anymore. Maybe not my biggest fan. Yeah, not so much.. I mean, because of my name I have this thing for God, the devil, and all things of that nature. My moniker is just a play off of my name, or the opposite of my name and I don't mean anything by it..really God, NOTHING..it's a joke.. you know jokes, right? And I know I've got a mouth like a sailor, but you'd think, hey, He invented language, He's certainly heard everything under the sun, um.. literally, and God's been around a looooooong time. I'm betting He doesn't shock easily..
But I imagine Him up there, in Heaven, where God is supposed to be, and getting bored with hearing the same old choirs of angels He's heard since oh, the beginning of time, and wondering why the hell the angel Michael doesn't just change it up a bit - add in some funk or some J. Timberlake - he's got some moves you know, but Michael gets snippy when anyone asks for requests. So God is just sitting there, unsatisfied, and then He remembers His voodoo doll. Yes I said it. His voodoo doll. What, you don't think God believes in voodoo? How do you know? He does, ok?! And He calls over St. Peter and shows him this little voodoo doll, which He quickly labels with my name and says, 'Hey Pete, get a load of this!' and then stabs me violently in the nose and throat and you know what? He gives me a cold.. a big ol stinking - well not that I can really smell anything - coughing, aching, sneezing COLD. Meanie.
You'd think with a name like Angel I'd have the best 'in'.. like, forever. Not that He owes me anything.. not saying that, God. Just.. you know, saying.. I mean, we, meaning God and I, should have a special relationship...where He'd look upon me with a fondness like few others, like Jesus, or close to it.. like if Jesus had a baby sister.. or.. something. I mean, 'angel' means messenger of God for chrissakes.. so um.. where are my friggin messages?? Don't tell me it's in this little cold You sent me cuz all THAT clearly says to me is 'hey, better find the Kleenex and the Alka Seltzer Liqui-gels!'
And I'm sure You think this is all very funny.. yeah yeah, I can hear You snickering up there.. You know, You should take that act on the road.. no, really, not kidding. You're hysterical. Seriously.
God knows this is my week of rest.. the only one I've had in ages and you'd think even He would be getting tired of my whining - but um, apparently not. It's getting down to the wire and the days of the LAST MOVE OF MY LIFE this month are quickly approaching - like TOMORROW - and He AFFLICTS me with a friggin cold. Like I don't have a big enough cross to bear or anything! I know, I know.. there's a parable I read once (probably in some Christian related propaganda like oh, in the days I was forced to go to church cuz I was small and didn't know Catholics are um.. hypocritical at best, but that's another story), about a man who prayed to God saying his cross was too heavy and he couldn't bear it any longer. So God, being His loving and compassionate self, answered his prayers and offered the man another cross of his choosing. The man was very relieved, of course. So God took the man to where all the crosses were - possibly blindfolded and to some undisclosed location I'm sure cuz God doesn't want just anyone knowing where the crosses are kept.. cuz then there'd be stealing and black market prices and suddenly crosses would be the thing and Paris Hilton would have to have one.. and that'd be some sort of blasphemy.. or anarchy.. and He'd have to send us swarms of locusts and frog rain and somewhere there'd be a bake sale and a pancake breakfast.. and well, you get the picture.
So, my point.. and I DO have one.. so be quiet.. is that this cute little man is shown the room with all the crosses and sees this tiny one, way in the back corner. He points to it and tells God, 'That one, that's the one I'd like.' God, all parental and understanding, then lays the obvious on the poor sap and tells him, 'That's the one you just brought in.'
Isn't that a wonderful story? Doesn't it just warm your friggin HEART?? Didn't you just learn a BIG lesson right THERE in those LITTLE WORDS?? I know, you did, didn't you? Of course.. cuz God is great and good and kind and loving and omni-allkindsofthings.. and I would agree with ALL of that. Really I do God.. true story! But then why strike me down, right when I'm trying so very hard to pick myself back up, and You pick on the very tiny and cute and big-eyed sweeter than all that's sweet Angel and give me a friggin COLD?? Why? Why?? Right in the middle of all the very very important things I HAVE to do??
[silence]
Yes.. all those were rhetorical.. right..
See? He just gives me the silent treatment thinking that I'll figure it out I guess. It's not like I won't.. cuz it's not like He made me stupid or anything.. just you know, absent-minded sometimes.. and clumsy.. but maybe we need some family counseling to open the lines of communication. Maybe a night of seances or deep entrancing meditation or, I don't know.. maybe TALKING IN TONGUES WITH SNAKES to get thru to Him?? Cuz I tell you, the kicking, screaming, and crying til I'm blue in the face is definitely not working. Yeah, all my usual tactics don't work on God.. I, um, think He can see thru them. Unlike my mother.. whining does wonders with her if I lay the groundwork juuuuust right. Oh, don't look at me like that.. if you only knew my mother - trust me, I'm owed a tad bit of spoiling for some friggin talented whining.
But fear not (cuz I'm sure you were just sitting there, shaking in terror for my very life, right, right), I'm calm, I will not worry, I will prevail, I will TRIUMPH! I uh, sorta have no choice. Tomorrow will come, meds will be swallowed (I swear, that Alka Seltzer Liqui-gel stuff, if you can find it, works like a charm, tho you'll be a tad loopy - but hey, a pain-free noggin and actual BREATHING are good!), and boxes will again be loaded and unloaded, walked up and down 83-THOUSAND stairs and out of and into strange and new and soon-to-be-old places.
And tho irritated by this maddening situation, don't think I'm not grateful for this new place and (crosses fingers) great new roommates and all the yucky that happened that led me to this new and better situation. Really. Soooo thankful! Like BURSTING with heaps and heaps of appreciation! Honest! But um.. God? Yeah, just one thing.. um.. will You please PLEASE, put the doll down now?
But I imagine Him up there, in Heaven, where God is supposed to be, and getting bored with hearing the same old choirs of angels He's heard since oh, the beginning of time, and wondering why the hell the angel Michael doesn't just change it up a bit - add in some funk or some J. Timberlake - he's got some moves you know, but Michael gets snippy when anyone asks for requests. So God is just sitting there, unsatisfied, and then He remembers His voodoo doll. Yes I said it. His voodoo doll. What, you don't think God believes in voodoo? How do you know? He does, ok?! And He calls over St. Peter and shows him this little voodoo doll, which He quickly labels with my name and says, 'Hey Pete, get a load of this!' and then stabs me violently in the nose and throat and you know what? He gives me a cold.. a big ol stinking - well not that I can really smell anything - coughing, aching, sneezing COLD. Meanie.
You'd think with a name like Angel I'd have the best 'in'.. like, forever. Not that He owes me anything.. not saying that, God. Just.. you know, saying.. I mean, we, meaning God and I, should have a special relationship...where He'd look upon me with a fondness like few others, like Jesus, or close to it.. like if Jesus had a baby sister.. or.. something. I mean, 'angel' means messenger of God for chrissakes.. so um.. where are my friggin messages?? Don't tell me it's in this little cold You sent me cuz all THAT clearly says to me is 'hey, better find the Kleenex and the Alka Seltzer Liqui-gels!'
And I'm sure You think this is all very funny.. yeah yeah, I can hear You snickering up there.. You know, You should take that act on the road.. no, really, not kidding. You're hysterical. Seriously.
God knows this is my week of rest.. the only one I've had in ages and you'd think even He would be getting tired of my whining - but um, apparently not. It's getting down to the wire and the days of the LAST MOVE OF MY LIFE this month are quickly approaching - like TOMORROW - and He AFFLICTS me with a friggin cold. Like I don't have a big enough cross to bear or anything! I know, I know.. there's a parable I read once (probably in some Christian related propaganda like oh, in the days I was forced to go to church cuz I was small and didn't know Catholics are um.. hypocritical at best, but that's another story), about a man who prayed to God saying his cross was too heavy and he couldn't bear it any longer. So God, being His loving and compassionate self, answered his prayers and offered the man another cross of his choosing. The man was very relieved, of course. So God took the man to where all the crosses were - possibly blindfolded and to some undisclosed location I'm sure cuz God doesn't want just anyone knowing where the crosses are kept.. cuz then there'd be stealing and black market prices and suddenly crosses would be the thing and Paris Hilton would have to have one.. and that'd be some sort of blasphemy.. or anarchy.. and He'd have to send us swarms of locusts and frog rain and somewhere there'd be a bake sale and a pancake breakfast.. and well, you get the picture.
So, my point.. and I DO have one.. so be quiet.. is that this cute little man is shown the room with all the crosses and sees this tiny one, way in the back corner. He points to it and tells God, 'That one, that's the one I'd like.' God, all parental and understanding, then lays the obvious on the poor sap and tells him, 'That's the one you just brought in.'
Isn't that a wonderful story? Doesn't it just warm your friggin HEART?? Didn't you just learn a BIG lesson right THERE in those LITTLE WORDS?? I know, you did, didn't you? Of course.. cuz God is great and good and kind and loving and omni-allkindsofthings.. and I would agree with ALL of that. Really I do God.. true story! But then why strike me down, right when I'm trying so very hard to pick myself back up, and You pick on the very tiny and cute and big-eyed sweeter than all that's sweet Angel and give me a friggin COLD?? Why? Why?? Right in the middle of all the very very important things I HAVE to do??
[silence]
Yes.. all those were rhetorical.. right..
See? He just gives me the silent treatment thinking that I'll figure it out I guess. It's not like I won't.. cuz it's not like He made me stupid or anything.. just you know, absent-minded sometimes.. and clumsy.. but maybe we need some family counseling to open the lines of communication. Maybe a night of seances or deep entrancing meditation or, I don't know.. maybe TALKING IN TONGUES WITH SNAKES to get thru to Him?? Cuz I tell you, the kicking, screaming, and crying til I'm blue in the face is definitely not working. Yeah, all my usual tactics don't work on God.. I, um, think He can see thru them. Unlike my mother.. whining does wonders with her if I lay the groundwork juuuuust right. Oh, don't look at me like that.. if you only knew my mother - trust me, I'm owed a tad bit of spoiling for some friggin talented whining.
But fear not (cuz I'm sure you were just sitting there, shaking in terror for my very life, right, right), I'm calm, I will not worry, I will prevail, I will TRIUMPH! I uh, sorta have no choice. Tomorrow will come, meds will be swallowed (I swear, that Alka Seltzer Liqui-gel stuff, if you can find it, works like a charm, tho you'll be a tad loopy - but hey, a pain-free noggin and actual BREATHING are good!), and boxes will again be loaded and unloaded, walked up and down 83-THOUSAND stairs and out of and into strange and new and soon-to-be-old places.
And tho irritated by this maddening situation, don't think I'm not grateful for this new place and (crosses fingers) great new roommates and all the yucky that happened that led me to this new and better situation. Really. Soooo thankful! Like BURSTING with heaps and heaps of appreciation! Honest! But um.. God? Yeah, just one thing.. um.. will You please PLEASE, put the doll down now?
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
The Words Don't Exist
I heard it on the news yesterday morning and didn't really think much of it. Three climbers were killed in a landslide in the North Cascade mountains in an area called Sharkfin Tower about 90 miles northeast of Seattle. There were six of them.. the fourth is still in serious condition with head wounds from the rocks and amazingly, two of them were left completely unscathed. It's sad, but it didn't affect me. I came to work and plowed thru the first part of my morning when I got an email from one of my best friends, Loren. His office was shaken by this very story because one of the climbers killed was the husband of his co-worker and friend, Lori.
I mention this because Saturday Lori, the brunette in the middle, and Loren, along with their other close co-worker, Jenny, went sky diving. It was Jenny's idea, but Lori convinced Loren to do it... and don't they look excited here? This is the 'before' shot. I saw the video - I was nervous for them just watching it - after it was all over! But when he called to tell me that's what they were doing on Saturday I was like.. uh.. are you sure you want to jump out of an airplane??! 
Hello.. like, THOUSANDS of feet of um.. just AIR below you.. and oh LAND IS VERY FAR DOWN! But he couldn't be persuaded otherwise and I was listed as the 'emergency contact'.. just in case. The agreement was he'd call me afterwards to definitively say that no, in fact, he hadn't died. And yes, phew, they all made it thru, invigorated and proud of themselves as you can see right here. Doesn't Loren look gay boy hot in that suit?!
When he sent me the news yesterday morning, this story I have nothing to do with and which shouldn't really affect me, focused in very fast and I started to cry. All I could think about was this wonderful day three friends had together and how one would have no possible idea she would lose her husband the next day to such a tragedy. I mean, how could she? How could any of us?
When I was 23 I was finishing up my last straggling term in the fall at what is now Southern Oregon University. My friend, Nic, had transferred to Humboldt State in Arcada, California to finish his degree the year before. We'd met my sophomore year and dated a little, but I soon realized he was a bit of a player and we actually later ended up being roommates and much better friends. Our other friends thought it funny cuz they could give him advice or criticism and he'd be fine. But if I did the same thing, didn't matter what I said or how I said it, it had the opposite effect and pissed him off. I could make him mad like nobody else. In my own defense, he usually had the same effect on me. We always made up tho cuz no matter what, we really had a great love for each other as friends in spite of how stubborn we both were. He called me Angelica.. he was the only one who did and it always made me blush.
So one evening, at the end of November, I called Nic to check on him and his roommate answered. He said Nic had gone to Portland for his mother's funeral. I was shocked. He hadn't called to say anything and I was also confused. He and his real mother had always had a tense relationship and when he'd mention her, which wasn't often, I got the feeling he wasn't proud of her. But he adored his step-mother, with whom he was very close. The roommate quickly confirmed it was his real mother who'd been hit by a car and killed while crossing the street and my heart just broke for Nic. I knew this would be really hard for him. He had some unresolved issues with his mom and the one time we met up with her together, I could tell it was awkward for him. I don't know how many of his friends actually met his mother before. I was pretty sure not many. In his opinion, she had made some poor life choices for herself that included drugs, the wrong kind of men, etc. But he had to drop by for some reason and during that we decided to grab some food together. At the table, she called him Nicki and I couldn't help but crack up. It was the cutest thing ever and I could see him soften when she did it tho he quickly told me that I was the only witness to ever hear that and he very clearly didn't want me to repeat it. I knew he loved her, that was obvious. It was just complicated.. like most relationships are..
Nic's roommate said he should be back in about five or six days. For some reason, I asked about his dog, Storm, but the roommate said Nic had left in such a rush, he'd left the dog at home. This struck me as odd cuz he took Storm with him everywhere. I expected him to call on his way home at least and say he was stopping by to crash or say hello quickly since Ashland was on the way south and hoped I could offer some support. But I also knew he was working on a class project - a film in which one of our friends and former roommates, Keith, had participated and Nic needed to get back to finish.
About five or six days later, I did get a call, but it was from Keith. I was so happy to hear from him and since he wasn't living in Ashland anymore either and thought it must be to announce a pending visit. I noticed quickly, after my excited puppy dog greeting, that his voice was somber and he wasn't saying a lot. I asked what was wrong and the next words out of his mouth caused a big earthquake in my little world. He had some bad news to tell me. Nic had been on his way home from Portland after his mother's funeral, just about 25 miles out of Arcada, when he'd fallen asleep at the wheel of his VW van and hit a tree. He died instantly.
What happened after that is hard to describe and you can't understand unless you've lost someone close to you - not that you need to. Everyone goes thru something different. You have no control over the shock that sets in and probably don't even know it has. You feel like you're suddenly under water or in a quicksand sort of air that is holding all your limbs from moving any faster than slow motion. You feel everything and nothing all at once. You can't breathe, but somehow, you are. The auto-pilot feature we're all inherently built with comes in handy in situations like this. I still, of course, asked Keith to repeat what he'd just said as I was certain I'd heard it incorrectly and when he confirmed I wasn't wrong, I think I lost all feeling in my body and just collapsed to the floor. It probably seems like it took a lot of time, but it was all in a matter of seconds.
I don't know if anything can put things in perspective more than death and how it affects your life. Of course, it's a part of life, but it's certainly one of the most difficult obstacles we face, in my opinion. The loss of my friend is certainly not recent, but it binds me in a strange way to others when they lose someone they love, suddenly or not cuz I can relate to it immediately. The sudden ones are harder to understand especially when there was so much more life to be lived for those who are now gone. My friends and I still think if Nic had only taken the dog with him he would've made a few more stops on the way and been more alert.. and probably would've avoided his fatal accident. At his mother's funeral, Nic's father said tho he and Nic's mom didn't work out, the one thing he was grateful to her for was Nic. It's just not fair that 6 days later Nic was gone as well. Absolutely not fair. But I don't know of any better way to be human than to break down during such a loss or to show compassion and offer support to someone who's going thru it. The loss in London, Lori's husband, and also recently, my friend Jody's mother, who suddenly became ill and passed away as well.. to me, this is massive, tho people die every day.. but maybe just recently it's seemed to happen all at once and all I can think of to say is how sorry I am - and that can't possibly encompass everything I mean, but the words simply don't exist.
I think if you love those around you as much as you possibly can, even with all your faults, that's still enough and that's all that should matter.
To Lori, Jody, and all those who've lost someone recently including those in London, my thoughts and prayers go out to you.
I mention this because Saturday Lori, the brunette in the middle, and Loren, along with their other close co-worker, Jenny, went sky diving. It was Jenny's idea, but Lori convinced Loren to do it... and don't they look excited here? This is the 'before' shot. I saw the video - I was nervous for them just watching it - after it was all over! But when he called to tell me that's what they were doing on Saturday I was like.. uh.. are you sure you want to jump out of an airplane??! 
Hello.. like, THOUSANDS of feet of um.. just AIR below you.. and oh LAND IS VERY FAR DOWN! But he couldn't be persuaded otherwise and I was listed as the 'emergency contact'.. just in case. The agreement was he'd call me afterwards to definitively say that no, in fact, he hadn't died. And yes, phew, they all made it thru, invigorated and proud of themselves as you can see right here. Doesn't Loren look gay boy hot in that suit?!When he sent me the news yesterday morning, this story I have nothing to do with and which shouldn't really affect me, focused in very fast and I started to cry. All I could think about was this wonderful day three friends had together and how one would have no possible idea she would lose her husband the next day to such a tragedy. I mean, how could she? How could any of us?
When I was 23 I was finishing up my last straggling term in the fall at what is now Southern Oregon University. My friend, Nic, had transferred to Humboldt State in Arcada, California to finish his degree the year before. We'd met my sophomore year and dated a little, but I soon realized he was a bit of a player and we actually later ended up being roommates and much better friends. Our other friends thought it funny cuz they could give him advice or criticism and he'd be fine. But if I did the same thing, didn't matter what I said or how I said it, it had the opposite effect and pissed him off. I could make him mad like nobody else. In my own defense, he usually had the same effect on me. We always made up tho cuz no matter what, we really had a great love for each other as friends in spite of how stubborn we both were. He called me Angelica.. he was the only one who did and it always made me blush.
So one evening, at the end of November, I called Nic to check on him and his roommate answered. He said Nic had gone to Portland for his mother's funeral. I was shocked. He hadn't called to say anything and I was also confused. He and his real mother had always had a tense relationship and when he'd mention her, which wasn't often, I got the feeling he wasn't proud of her. But he adored his step-mother, with whom he was very close. The roommate quickly confirmed it was his real mother who'd been hit by a car and killed while crossing the street and my heart just broke for Nic. I knew this would be really hard for him. He had some unresolved issues with his mom and the one time we met up with her together, I could tell it was awkward for him. I don't know how many of his friends actually met his mother before. I was pretty sure not many. In his opinion, she had made some poor life choices for herself that included drugs, the wrong kind of men, etc. But he had to drop by for some reason and during that we decided to grab some food together. At the table, she called him Nicki and I couldn't help but crack up. It was the cutest thing ever and I could see him soften when she did it tho he quickly told me that I was the only witness to ever hear that and he very clearly didn't want me to repeat it. I knew he loved her, that was obvious. It was just complicated.. like most relationships are..
Nic's roommate said he should be back in about five or six days. For some reason, I asked about his dog, Storm, but the roommate said Nic had left in such a rush, he'd left the dog at home. This struck me as odd cuz he took Storm with him everywhere. I expected him to call on his way home at least and say he was stopping by to crash or say hello quickly since Ashland was on the way south and hoped I could offer some support. But I also knew he was working on a class project - a film in which one of our friends and former roommates, Keith, had participated and Nic needed to get back to finish.
About five or six days later, I did get a call, but it was from Keith. I was so happy to hear from him and since he wasn't living in Ashland anymore either and thought it must be to announce a pending visit. I noticed quickly, after my excited puppy dog greeting, that his voice was somber and he wasn't saying a lot. I asked what was wrong and the next words out of his mouth caused a big earthquake in my little world. He had some bad news to tell me. Nic had been on his way home from Portland after his mother's funeral, just about 25 miles out of Arcada, when he'd fallen asleep at the wheel of his VW van and hit a tree. He died instantly.
What happened after that is hard to describe and you can't understand unless you've lost someone close to you - not that you need to. Everyone goes thru something different. You have no control over the shock that sets in and probably don't even know it has. You feel like you're suddenly under water or in a quicksand sort of air that is holding all your limbs from moving any faster than slow motion. You feel everything and nothing all at once. You can't breathe, but somehow, you are. The auto-pilot feature we're all inherently built with comes in handy in situations like this. I still, of course, asked Keith to repeat what he'd just said as I was certain I'd heard it incorrectly and when he confirmed I wasn't wrong, I think I lost all feeling in my body and just collapsed to the floor. It probably seems like it took a lot of time, but it was all in a matter of seconds.
I don't know if anything can put things in perspective more than death and how it affects your life. Of course, it's a part of life, but it's certainly one of the most difficult obstacles we face, in my opinion. The loss of my friend is certainly not recent, but it binds me in a strange way to others when they lose someone they love, suddenly or not cuz I can relate to it immediately. The sudden ones are harder to understand especially when there was so much more life to be lived for those who are now gone. My friends and I still think if Nic had only taken the dog with him he would've made a few more stops on the way and been more alert.. and probably would've avoided his fatal accident. At his mother's funeral, Nic's father said tho he and Nic's mom didn't work out, the one thing he was grateful to her for was Nic. It's just not fair that 6 days later Nic was gone as well. Absolutely not fair. But I don't know of any better way to be human than to break down during such a loss or to show compassion and offer support to someone who's going thru it. The loss in London, Lori's husband, and also recently, my friend Jody's mother, who suddenly became ill and passed away as well.. to me, this is massive, tho people die every day.. but maybe just recently it's seemed to happen all at once and all I can think of to say is how sorry I am - and that can't possibly encompass everything I mean, but the words simply don't exist.
I think if you love those around you as much as you possibly can, even with all your faults, that's still enough and that's all that should matter.
To Lori, Jody, and all those who've lost someone recently including those in London, my thoughts and prayers go out to you.
Saturday, July 09, 2005
Thought process
Ahh.. the calm before the storm.. and here I am trying to actually enjoy the weekend. I even went to a movie! Can you believe it?! No life drama, no fighting amongst people I call friends, no packing, no cleaning - NOTHING. Just drove to a movie with a girlfriend. And NOTHING BAD HAPPENED.
This scares me.
I've been going non-stop for about 3 weeks now. I mean, I'm NEVER this busy or this stressed. Usually, when I run into a string of bad luck, a few incidences seem to indicate a pattern occuring and I think to myself.. ok, hopefully things will turn around for the better soon. I'll get thru this. But this particular string of one thing after another just kept going up til last Tuesday at least when I realized at 5:15pm that I didn't have my car keys.
Let me just say, this car is of the newer sort.. less than 5 years old and with it came some handy beepy reminders to prevent things just like this.. cuz tho I have a sharp memory for the pissy comment you might've said while we were arguing and can recite it word for word and with the correct tone, I will still forget my coffee before heading out the door in the morning.. or my lunch or laptop, etc.. So these beepy reminders are of great necessity and because of them I've never left the lights on or locked the keys in the car - ok, well, almost never. The beepy thing doesn't work if I leave the keys on the passenger seat or half way pulled out of the ignition - like this time. *Sigh*
Upon walking to the lot, I see the keys thru the car window, just mocking me while hanging ever so slightly but firmly in the ignition..where they had been since 8am that morning. Twenty minutes standing around looking like an idiot, two minutes of actual work by the 12-year-old tow driver who came and broke into my car, and $50 later, I was shaking my head going.. stupid stupid stupid..
But you have to understand, I'm SO tired. My memory and motor skills are taking a hit.. it's like watching a car slowly start to malfunction - one light at a time comes on indicating a problem, then another and another.. til it just grinds to a debilitating halt... or, as in my case, til I can barely stand up any longer and my eyes slam shut for 24 full hours as the body rejects doing anything further - thanks for playing, take your lovely consolation prizes at the door, we must really close now, no really, get out.. and I'm horizontal in dreamy unconsciousness.
I mean, work was a joke this week. It was like the special Olympics trying to make it thru with me as the underdog competitor with the most maladies. I was making error after error on the computer at work and I type 85+ wpm.. nothing record breaking, but it's decent and I couldn't seem to find my groove of getting thru emails and simple data entry. I felt like I had two left hands with all thumbs. I multi-task all day with at least 15 to 20 little windows minimized at a time and moving around getting my work done smoothly. So this strange and advanced stage of Alzheimer's I'd suddently been plagued with at 33 uh..sorta threw me. I actually lost my train of thought in the middle of sentences.. like, words just stopped, I forgot what I was saying completely and would receive the strangest looks from my co-workers. At least three times on Wednesday I noticed I'd bring up a window and I'd forget why. I had to keep going back thru my last steps and I watched my productivity plummet to sub-par. I realized I had to consciously battle to get thru the days and when 5pm finally came around on Friday I did my little happy dance - except, only virtually cuz really, there was no way in hell I had any energy to actually stand up and wiggle joyfully - not that I didn't want to, but you can't do the happy dance half-assed.. you understand. I instead opted for a simple and relieved smile and I left the office in exhausted bliss..
On the way home the world couldn't have been more beautiful. I was sitting there thinking of the plans for the weekend and my recent worries: a meeting with an almost entirely broken up friend to see if we can repair things or at least clear the air, brunch with one of the gays of our lives I adore, the ex I had a disagreement with over the phone last week, the fact my most recent ex emailed when I thought he wanted nothing to do with me and trying not to be thrown by the memories that brought back, the fight with a friend in BC over pictures she didn't like but which I didn't have time to delete when I was working to excess and moving at the same time, and oh yeah.. dealing with moving AGAIN and how I'm going to get enough people to help me one more time next weekend, etc.. when I just noticed the sky. One side towards the U-district was the darkest and deepest indigo and from there as my eyes went west, it blended all the way thru to the lighter hues to the most perfect swimming-pool blue-green with the moon just a tiny sliver and I think Venus at an angle just diagonal from it. God.. it was absolutely stunning and I wanted to just sit in that for a moment... I thought you know, things are going to be ok. I have my health, I have enough money to get by, people who love me, and I should be grateful. My heart cracked at the thought of the loss of life in London so recently and how frightened they must be just getting to work and back. I have no troubles compared to that and it humbled me.
I have a small tattoo on my left shoulder that means 'strong heart' in Chinese and it's there for when I go thru times like these - to remind me to stop whining, don't make things bigger than they are or harder than they need to be and I'll be fine. Well.. once I get some sleep, which let me say, is a wonderous thing and is something I plan to get a lot of this weekend. I'll rest and relax to the fullest extent possible without going full on Rumplestiltskin (tho the thought of that is sooooo nice..) and break down the mountain of complications into manageable chunks, dealing with the issues as they come, one at a time.
Bring 'em on.. uh..after my nap, thank you..
This scares me.
I've been going non-stop for about 3 weeks now. I mean, I'm NEVER this busy or this stressed. Usually, when I run into a string of bad luck, a few incidences seem to indicate a pattern occuring and I think to myself.. ok, hopefully things will turn around for the better soon. I'll get thru this. But this particular string of one thing after another just kept going up til last Tuesday at least when I realized at 5:15pm that I didn't have my car keys.
Let me just say, this car is of the newer sort.. less than 5 years old and with it came some handy beepy reminders to prevent things just like this.. cuz tho I have a sharp memory for the pissy comment you might've said while we were arguing and can recite it word for word and with the correct tone, I will still forget my coffee before heading out the door in the morning.. or my lunch or laptop, etc.. So these beepy reminders are of great necessity and because of them I've never left the lights on or locked the keys in the car - ok, well, almost never. The beepy thing doesn't work if I leave the keys on the passenger seat or half way pulled out of the ignition - like this time. *Sigh*
Upon walking to the lot, I see the keys thru the car window, just mocking me while hanging ever so slightly but firmly in the ignition..where they had been since 8am that morning. Twenty minutes standing around looking like an idiot, two minutes of actual work by the 12-year-old tow driver who came and broke into my car, and $50 later, I was shaking my head going.. stupid stupid stupid..
But you have to understand, I'm SO tired. My memory and motor skills are taking a hit.. it's like watching a car slowly start to malfunction - one light at a time comes on indicating a problem, then another and another.. til it just grinds to a debilitating halt... or, as in my case, til I can barely stand up any longer and my eyes slam shut for 24 full hours as the body rejects doing anything further - thanks for playing, take your lovely consolation prizes at the door, we must really close now, no really, get out.. and I'm horizontal in dreamy unconsciousness.
I mean, work was a joke this week. It was like the special Olympics trying to make it thru with me as the underdog competitor with the most maladies. I was making error after error on the computer at work and I type 85+ wpm.. nothing record breaking, but it's decent and I couldn't seem to find my groove of getting thru emails and simple data entry. I felt like I had two left hands with all thumbs. I multi-task all day with at least 15 to 20 little windows minimized at a time and moving around getting my work done smoothly. So this strange and advanced stage of Alzheimer's I'd suddently been plagued with at 33 uh..sorta threw me. I actually lost my train of thought in the middle of sentences.. like, words just stopped, I forgot what I was saying completely and would receive the strangest looks from my co-workers. At least three times on Wednesday I noticed I'd bring up a window and I'd forget why. I had to keep going back thru my last steps and I watched my productivity plummet to sub-par. I realized I had to consciously battle to get thru the days and when 5pm finally came around on Friday I did my little happy dance - except, only virtually cuz really, there was no way in hell I had any energy to actually stand up and wiggle joyfully - not that I didn't want to, but you can't do the happy dance half-assed.. you understand. I instead opted for a simple and relieved smile and I left the office in exhausted bliss..
On the way home the world couldn't have been more beautiful. I was sitting there thinking of the plans for the weekend and my recent worries: a meeting with an almost entirely broken up friend to see if we can repair things or at least clear the air, brunch with one of the gays of our lives I adore, the ex I had a disagreement with over the phone last week, the fact my most recent ex emailed when I thought he wanted nothing to do with me and trying not to be thrown by the memories that brought back, the fight with a friend in BC over pictures she didn't like but which I didn't have time to delete when I was working to excess and moving at the same time, and oh yeah.. dealing with moving AGAIN and how I'm going to get enough people to help me one more time next weekend, etc.. when I just noticed the sky. One side towards the U-district was the darkest and deepest indigo and from there as my eyes went west, it blended all the way thru to the lighter hues to the most perfect swimming-pool blue-green with the moon just a tiny sliver and I think Venus at an angle just diagonal from it. God.. it was absolutely stunning and I wanted to just sit in that for a moment... I thought you know, things are going to be ok. I have my health, I have enough money to get by, people who love me, and I should be grateful. My heart cracked at the thought of the loss of life in London so recently and how frightened they must be just getting to work and back. I have no troubles compared to that and it humbled me.
I have a small tattoo on my left shoulder that means 'strong heart' in Chinese and it's there for when I go thru times like these - to remind me to stop whining, don't make things bigger than they are or harder than they need to be and I'll be fine. Well.. once I get some sleep, which let me say, is a wonderous thing and is something I plan to get a lot of this weekend. I'll rest and relax to the fullest extent possible without going full on Rumplestiltskin (tho the thought of that is sooooo nice..) and break down the mountain of complications into manageable chunks, dealing with the issues as they come, one at a time.
Bring 'em on.. uh..after my nap, thank you..
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Out of the frying pan..and damn, where did I pack that?!
Did I say I hated moving? I think that was a misunderstanding. I love moving! LOVE it!! In fact, I love it SO much, I think I'll continue to do it for the rest of July! Yes I will! Just for fun even! Don't think I won't!
**Please note: All words above are written by yours truly who's gone completely delirious from lack of sleep, lack of respect, lack of power to do ANYTHING about the fact that yes, she will be moving AGAIN and BEFORE THIS MONTH IS OVER - actually, IN LESS THAN TWO WEEKS!**
I'm crazy. I'm going insane. No really. It's a fun place. Certainly funner (yes I said 'funner' and yes I KNOW it's not grammatically correct - but do you really want to push a crazy person??! I didn't think so.) than real life where I am right now.
I'll try to be brief: New roommate, Sunny, oy - if he wasn't so damn cut and strong I would try to strangle him! Not that I could, being my weak-ass self..but I'm a scrapper - he'd at least have some serious bruises on his shins. But he LIED to the landlady.. LIED! Why do men insist on stretching the truth? It never works.. just be a friggin man already. And I talked to her cuz he kept whining too damn much - such a boy. She dug me, thought I was a quality gal without me having to convince her specifically - I gots skilz yo.. I tell you, she was impressed and tho frustrated with him, satisfied I wasn't playing games with her especially when I told her about my cat, Emma, whom, according to the lease, she DOESN'T ALLOW, not that I knew that, but she gracefully added her to my temp lease she sent later just cuz I'm so friggin great and honest AND she isn't some cold and heartless bitch who throws a girl out on her ass like uh, the day she moves in. *Sigh of relief that THAT is taken care of.. phew!*
NOW.. onto the other issues: The Sunny of said thoughts in my head having to do with strangulation blurts out last night that this oil heating costs so much now having to only split it amongst the three of us. After a bit of discussion, I'm educated, having never lived in a house with oil heating, that the lovely oil providers bill every single month for the oil-giving because apparently, it's FUCKING EXPENSIVE..so they, you know, break it out to make it reasonably affordable. Um.. $125 a month, even in oh SUMMER is what they call AFFORDABLE?! Helloo - will someone take the CRACK away from the skanky and mean scrooges of oil?!
That clinched it for me, besides the fact tho I like this house, there's no storage in the bathroom. Hell, there isn't even a BATHROOM COUNTER! Um, hi, we might've just met, but do I look like a girl who has no toiletries?! Exactly my point.. I need counter space people.. on which to put hair products, their lids, contacts, the toothbrush & paste, and for fucks sake, the hair dryer! Has anyone ever heard of a woman and her NEEDS?! JesusMary&Joseph..where am I?! In Bizarro World?!
The solution? Well, since I have no idea how to keep this brief like I said, I'll tell you. I'm moving again. I know you didn't believe me before cuz I was crazy when I started this.. seriously.. but it's true. On July 15th I will be going to another random place, this time, not so close to the last one - with new roommates I would like to say I have known forever and we're great friends and better roommates.. however, I met them when I went to see the house YESTERDAY and we got to talking, blah blah blah - and I realized today - ohmygod - I SO need to grow up, get a boyfriend who wants to have a life with me and we move in together and get a friggin condo so I DON'T HAVE TO KEEP DOING THIS AN-Y-MORE!!!!
But I'm doing it.. moving into this house with these girls and trying to find a fourth for the last room. This new place is quirky - pinkish on the outside with teal colored doors.. and in Madison Park of all places - like hey.. welcome to the upper class neighborhood everyone.. and then there's my house - the one they forgot to turn into a mansion or brick Tudor style, but stands stubbornly, like moi, cuz it's not 'new money' or 'old money' for that matter - just old.. still it's got a charm.
Did I mention it's COMPLETELY TRASHED on the inside? Oh yeah.. forgot that minor detail. The former tenants left so much crap it looks like they realized the cops were getting close and skipped town. Plus, wow.. people are pigs.
The good news - and yes, believe it or not, there's a small amount of good news - the property management company is taking care of all that. YAY! They're also ripping up the carpet in the halls and the living room and putting in..wait for it.. hardwoods, new linoleum in the kitchen, painting the kitchen and painting and carpeting the upstairs bedrooms!! We still have to convince them to put in new carpet in the downstairs rooms cuz the carpet is just tragic.. looks like the stuff underneath carpet, threadbare and bubbly.. just.. EW. And don't think I don't hear you thinking.. uh.. you're giving them money before any of this and you have NO IDEA how these changes, however cheap, will look. And you're right - tho remember, you are talking to a crazy person so .. you know, it should make some sense.. and the other rooms are painted really nicely - it could be really cute (crossing fingers, holding breath, and praying to God, Buddha, Zeus - whomever will listen)..
Ok, I'm simply hoping it all works out cuz when they're done financially raping me for the month - and that's everyone, both the new landlady and the newer new landlady - and I'm done moving for the 36th and a half time after picking up and putting down box after box and climbing stair after stair and my poor hands are done being dry and cracked from all the cleaning of every single sink, floor, and counter there is in the WORLD, and I've lost every friend I know cuz they're tired of being roped in to helping me do this shit to myself over and over and I then have to sign contracts in BLOOD to show I'd NEVER ask them to help me WITH ANYTHING again..it's going to be oh, September when I can AFFORD TO EAT again but it doesn't matter cuz I'm going to get myself the longest full body massage I've EVER had...and then collapse into a week-long nap. God, I can't fucking wait!
**Please note: All words above are written by yours truly who's gone completely delirious from lack of sleep, lack of respect, lack of power to do ANYTHING about the fact that yes, she will be moving AGAIN and BEFORE THIS MONTH IS OVER - actually, IN LESS THAN TWO WEEKS!**
I'm crazy. I'm going insane. No really. It's a fun place. Certainly funner (yes I said 'funner' and yes I KNOW it's not grammatically correct - but do you really want to push a crazy person??! I didn't think so.) than real life where I am right now.
I'll try to be brief: New roommate, Sunny, oy - if he wasn't so damn cut and strong I would try to strangle him! Not that I could, being my weak-ass self..but I'm a scrapper - he'd at least have some serious bruises on his shins. But he LIED to the landlady.. LIED! Why do men insist on stretching the truth? It never works.. just be a friggin man already. And I talked to her cuz he kept whining too damn much - such a boy. She dug me, thought I was a quality gal without me having to convince her specifically - I gots skilz yo.. I tell you, she was impressed and tho frustrated with him, satisfied I wasn't playing games with her especially when I told her about my cat, Emma, whom, according to the lease, she DOESN'T ALLOW, not that I knew that, but she gracefully added her to my temp lease she sent later just cuz I'm so friggin great and honest AND she isn't some cold and heartless bitch who throws a girl out on her ass like uh, the day she moves in. *Sigh of relief that THAT is taken care of.. phew!*
NOW.. onto the other issues: The Sunny of said thoughts in my head having to do with strangulation blurts out last night that this oil heating costs so much now having to only split it amongst the three of us. After a bit of discussion, I'm educated, having never lived in a house with oil heating, that the lovely oil providers bill every single month for the oil-giving because apparently, it's FUCKING EXPENSIVE..so they, you know, break it out to make it reasonably affordable. Um.. $125 a month, even in oh SUMMER is what they call AFFORDABLE?! Helloo - will someone take the CRACK away from the skanky and mean scrooges of oil?!
That clinched it for me, besides the fact tho I like this house, there's no storage in the bathroom. Hell, there isn't even a BATHROOM COUNTER! Um, hi, we might've just met, but do I look like a girl who has no toiletries?! Exactly my point.. I need counter space people.. on which to put hair products, their lids, contacts, the toothbrush & paste, and for fucks sake, the hair dryer! Has anyone ever heard of a woman and her NEEDS?! JesusMary&Joseph..where am I?! In Bizarro World?!
The solution? Well, since I have no idea how to keep this brief like I said, I'll tell you. I'm moving again. I know you didn't believe me before cuz I was crazy when I started this.. seriously.. but it's true. On July 15th I will be going to another random place, this time, not so close to the last one - with new roommates I would like to say I have known forever and we're great friends and better roommates.. however, I met them when I went to see the house YESTERDAY and we got to talking, blah blah blah - and I realized today - ohmygod - I SO need to grow up, get a boyfriend who wants to have a life with me and we move in together and get a friggin condo so I DON'T HAVE TO KEEP DOING THIS AN-Y-MORE!!!!
But I'm doing it.. moving into this house with these girls and trying to find a fourth for the last room. This new place is quirky - pinkish on the outside with teal colored doors.. and in Madison Park of all places - like hey.. welcome to the upper class neighborhood everyone.. and then there's my house - the one they forgot to turn into a mansion or brick Tudor style, but stands stubbornly, like moi, cuz it's not 'new money' or 'old money' for that matter - just old.. still it's got a charm.
Did I mention it's COMPLETELY TRASHED on the inside? Oh yeah.. forgot that minor detail. The former tenants left so much crap it looks like they realized the cops were getting close and skipped town. Plus, wow.. people are pigs.
The good news - and yes, believe it or not, there's a small amount of good news - the property management company is taking care of all that. YAY! They're also ripping up the carpet in the halls and the living room and putting in..wait for it.. hardwoods, new linoleum in the kitchen, painting the kitchen and painting and carpeting the upstairs bedrooms!! We still have to convince them to put in new carpet in the downstairs rooms cuz the carpet is just tragic.. looks like the stuff underneath carpet, threadbare and bubbly.. just.. EW. And don't think I don't hear you thinking.. uh.. you're giving them money before any of this and you have NO IDEA how these changes, however cheap, will look. And you're right - tho remember, you are talking to a crazy person so .. you know, it should make some sense.. and the other rooms are painted really nicely - it could be really cute (crossing fingers, holding breath, and praying to God, Buddha, Zeus - whomever will listen)..
Ok, I'm simply hoping it all works out cuz when they're done financially raping me for the month - and that's everyone, both the new landlady and the newer new landlady - and I'm done moving for the 36th and a half time after picking up and putting down box after box and climbing stair after stair and my poor hands are done being dry and cracked from all the cleaning of every single sink, floor, and counter there is in the WORLD, and I've lost every friend I know cuz they're tired of being roped in to helping me do this shit to myself over and over and I then have to sign contracts in BLOOD to show I'd NEVER ask them to help me WITH ANYTHING again..it's going to be oh, September when I can AFFORD TO EAT again but it doesn't matter cuz I'm going to get myself the longest full body massage I've EVER had...and then collapse into a week-long nap. God, I can't fucking wait!
Friday, July 01, 2005
No place like home
I thought everything was coming together. Like peanut butter and jelly. Like Ben and Jen 2. Like Michael Jackson and acquittals. I mean, I had one person, that's ONE friend people, committed to helping me move Saturday. It seems that moving isn't the thing to do on a projected-to-be beautiful Seattle morning. Who knew? And after what has been a week to top all weeks, a sort of send-me-to-the-mental-hospital-now-cuz-see-how-I'm-stabbing-myself-with-my-pen-cuz-it's-less-painful-than-this-problem-I-have-to-resolve-RIGHT-NOW potpourri of work issues, I thought I saw the proverbial light. I sweetly talked two of my co-workers into bringing their trucks over bright and early, saved myself, at minimum, $50 on a rented truck and did my little happy dance in the hall at 5pm relieved. Boy I was proud of my little eyelash batting.. you really missed a show kids.
I headed out of the office closer to on time than ever this week and that's saying a lot if you knew the kind of week I've had. On the way home, I could barely keep my eyes open and crashed for an hour long power nap once I got there. I woke to the sound of my cell vibrating (it's just the cell people.. keep your minds OUT of the gutter please!) and it was my soon-to-be roommate, Sunny. The short version of his message of bad tidings was that this 5-bedroom house is only leased to 3 people and, after the walk-thru today, the almost-invisible landlady decided to remind him that 3 is the maximum amount of tenants she wants. Seems there was no convincing her that 4 or 5 people could be as responsible and clean and almost exactly just like 3, except, well, not, and she was adamant that only 3 should be living there. After talking to me for a bit, he called her back, courage renewed, and tried to reason with her again.. to no avail. She, of course, had no time to really get into it and is going to call him tomorrow to discuss it further, but I'm guessing she's going to continue to stand her ground and we will all, in short, be fucked.
This..yes..this is definitely a problem. I don't like to move, as is stated very clearly a few times as of late. I can move in - apart from her blocking the access to the doorway - that wouldn't be hard. And, once I'm in, she'd have a difficult time getting me evicted without cause. Seattle is often on the tenant's side when it comes to a lot of rental issues - however, the cost would certainly be more than expected and yours truly needs to save save save - mainly cuz I suck at doing any actual real life saving, but I'm trying to maintain a budget here. AND who the fuck wants to deal with a bitchy landlady every month who doesn't realize she's making money off the people who live there and threatens that very income by being said bitch since uh, we can leave you know.. with only 20 days notice too..duh. Since some people are intent on shooting themselves in the foot, why not just let them? I love watching Darwinism in action, don't you?
So Sunny and I had a talk tonight. Sunny is a sweet guy - really - and you know, a guy. Guy roommate = killer of very small but scary spiders, bbq champion, and general fixer of any small household things broken. I need him. I've only lived with women the last few years and it sucks to throw a bbq party and realize, uh.. who's running the bbq? Three high-pitched 'not me's' later and you're looking at some under-cooked chicken and some irritated friends like.. well, this was probably not the best idea. Besides, the male energy is a nice change. Plus, we don't have to share a bathroom. This is key. Therefore, I proposed after Bitchy Landlady's call tomorrow, hoping she gives in, but if not, that we plan another course of action: finding a new place altogether for us to move into in August. He dug the idea. I told you I was good.
Cross your fingers July moves quickly or I will have nothing more to write about but the pain and anguish of moving forever. Dammit.. now where is that pen with which I can stab myself many, many times..?!
I headed out of the office closer to on time than ever this week and that's saying a lot if you knew the kind of week I've had. On the way home, I could barely keep my eyes open and crashed for an hour long power nap once I got there. I woke to the sound of my cell vibrating (it's just the cell people.. keep your minds OUT of the gutter please!) and it was my soon-to-be roommate, Sunny. The short version of his message of bad tidings was that this 5-bedroom house is only leased to 3 people and, after the walk-thru today, the almost-invisible landlady decided to remind him that 3 is the maximum amount of tenants she wants. Seems there was no convincing her that 4 or 5 people could be as responsible and clean and almost exactly just like 3, except, well, not, and she was adamant that only 3 should be living there. After talking to me for a bit, he called her back, courage renewed, and tried to reason with her again.. to no avail. She, of course, had no time to really get into it and is going to call him tomorrow to discuss it further, but I'm guessing she's going to continue to stand her ground and we will all, in short, be fucked.
This..yes..this is definitely a problem. I don't like to move, as is stated very clearly a few times as of late. I can move in - apart from her blocking the access to the doorway - that wouldn't be hard. And, once I'm in, she'd have a difficult time getting me evicted without cause. Seattle is often on the tenant's side when it comes to a lot of rental issues - however, the cost would certainly be more than expected and yours truly needs to save save save - mainly cuz I suck at doing any actual real life saving, but I'm trying to maintain a budget here. AND who the fuck wants to deal with a bitchy landlady every month who doesn't realize she's making money off the people who live there and threatens that very income by being said bitch since uh, we can leave you know.. with only 20 days notice too..duh. Since some people are intent on shooting themselves in the foot, why not just let them? I love watching Darwinism in action, don't you?
So Sunny and I had a talk tonight. Sunny is a sweet guy - really - and you know, a guy. Guy roommate = killer of very small but scary spiders, bbq champion, and general fixer of any small household things broken. I need him. I've only lived with women the last few years and it sucks to throw a bbq party and realize, uh.. who's running the bbq? Three high-pitched 'not me's' later and you're looking at some under-cooked chicken and some irritated friends like.. well, this was probably not the best idea. Besides, the male energy is a nice change. Plus, we don't have to share a bathroom. This is key. Therefore, I proposed after Bitchy Landlady's call tomorrow, hoping she gives in, but if not, that we plan another course of action: finding a new place altogether for us to move into in August. He dug the idea. I told you I was good.
Cross your fingers July moves quickly or I will have nothing more to write about but the pain and anguish of moving forever. Dammit.. now where is that pen with which I can stab myself many, many times..?!
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