jessica

Your comments

2007-04-17T22:45:00.000-04:00

Thanks for your kind comments concerning this morning's fat breakdown. I still get taken by surprise when a person who would never dream of saying anything negative about the color of my skin finds it perfectly acceptable to say something negative about the size of my stomach.

And, Kris, I mentioned Joey Fatone LAST TIME I watched dancing with the stars. Steve. you crack me up.

"So big"

2007-04-17T09:34:00.000-04:00

The other day, a co-worker asked me how I got to be "so big." Just writing that sentence makes my eyes tear - how do you answer that question?

I don't think she was trying to be hurtful, and actually it was, in a way, a logical question because we were talking about the fact that I had just come from an early-morning cache trip. It's well-known at work that I hike and kayak, and the women watch in amazement when I put the full water bottle on the cooler or heft the case of paper onto the shelf - I'm athletic, so why am I so unsightly?

I said something about eating too much, and something about the fact that I am, simply put, a fat person. That I could lose 50 pounds, and I'd still be round, because I am round. She said, "So eat healthy." I said that, in the grand scheme of things, I do eat healthy. (Am I a macrobiotic vegetarian? No. Do I live on junk/fast food and loads of sugar? Not even close.) I told her that my problem is most definitely portion control - I eat good food, but I eat too much of it. She said, "So stop doing that."

Why didn't I think of that?

Something is very very wrong.

2007-04-16T20:12:00.000-04:00

For the second week in a row, I find myself thinking that Ian Ziering is hot. And not only that, cute.

It should be pretty obvious that I ain't getting any.

Well, that didn't work.

2007-04-16T19:44:00.000-04:00

I spent the whole day trying to load Ubuntu onto my laptop. Apparently, my laptop didn't like that. I decided to do a clean install of windows - didn't like that either, mostly because my friend Stevie made off with my drivers disk. Stevie also reset my admin password at some point, and since he is unreachable, a good deal of time was spent trying to hack into my own damn computer (which I did, finally, after finding some backdoor command-line code).

Now my computer has two operating systems that I can't access. Don't ever let me "fix" your computer.

Wooo Hoooo - a ROCKIN" Friday night!

2007-04-13T21:43:00.000-04:00

Or not.

I was starving after work, so I rushed home and commenced making dinner immediately. I poached some salmon in white wine and light (clear) balsamic vinegar with dill, salt, and pepper, and cooked the Trader Joe's Spinach Fettuccine with fresh broccoli. Yum.

Since we finished eating early (for us), we decided to try and catch a movie. Now, I am not a fan of movie theatres, and I don't know what on Earth made me agree to go see Disturbia of all things, but I am rapidly reaching "snark overload" with Geoff, and I just wanted to get out of the house and do something that was his idea (because, you know, I never do anything that's his idea). When we arrived, it was sold out. Darn.

We stopped by the new pool hall in town and decided to shoot a few games. Man, I suck at pool. I haven't played in a while, and I am accustomed to bar tables which are two feet smaller than the 8 foot professional tables at the hall. But, it was a way to kill an hour so that we could pretend we "went out."

Home by 9pm - that's just sad.

I can't even tell you how much I miss 1991, the year I went dancing every Friday and Saturday night with "The Posse" (I shit you not). I often found myself grinding away in a sweaty club, the happy meat in a Hot Black Man sandwich. I have pictures.

Now I'm just the nearly middle-aged meat in an Old White Dude roll-up.

NEWS FLASH!
Geoff's ex-girlfriend is IMing me. She does this from time-to-time. I think it's weird. Should I respond so that I can report back to you all?

Productive, Sorta

2007-04-12T21:17:00.000-04:00

I spent a good chunk of time today posting to my library blog. Has anyone noticed how much time blogging can take?

As I read my way around the online universe, I take constant notes on things that I think are relevant to the library world - things I want to post on my blog. The list grows and grows, and at some point I find that I couldn't possibly post all of the nifty things I discovered, and/or that someone else has already beat me to the punch. I end up with very long, and very interesting lists, and very little actually posted on my blog.

Until recently, this really didn't bother me much. No one was reading that blog, no one seemed to know me, and I had kind of given up on the idea of becoming a librarian rock star.

Then, I started getting email - people telling me that they read my blog and liked what I posted (funny, I don't get tons of comments there). This was heartening. I tried to create some online social portals for librarians - a message board, a community blog - and when I got little response, I crept back under the covers. Enter a very successful online librarian community, Library 2.0 on Ning, and lots of people want to be my "friend." Notes show up in my box saying things like, "I see you all over the place online!" Hmmm. Good thing I have my clothes on.

And then, last week, a library blogger I respect and admire very much named me as one of his Five Blog Heroes. I just about spit out my drink when I saw my name in that list. "Cool!" was my first thought. "Shit! Now I have to actually post meaningful content" was my second.

In other news, one of my professional references told me that she had received a phone call from one of the board members of my library, and that I am apparently going to be granted an interview. I haven't been called on that yet, but I am a tiny bit excited at the prospect.

Because things are moving in this direction, I will probably be moving this blog to a different URL and disassociating it from the coollibrarian.com domain. This would also mean that the rss feed will change. Though I am not ashamed of what I say here, and I will fight for my right to say whatever the fuck I want here (like, um, fuck), the reality is that employers have gotten wise to Googling their prospective employees, and using what they find against them at times. This blog is not linked closely to my full name, but a tech-savvy person could make the connection, and anyone plugged in enough to Google my professional persona would find this place in a few minutes. I am not overly worried about this job, per se (for a few different reasons), but I expect that my job hunting will continue (I hold no fantasies about getting a Directorship), and I should be more conscious of how my online identities fit together.

So, you may see some "sanitizing" in terms of how I identify myself here, and how this blog does, or does not, link to the other facets of my online life. I will keep you posted on important changes/moves.

Happy Easter - Does Anyone Have any Valium?

2007-04-08T17:46:00.000-04:00

Two days ago my mom started asking me if I had any Easter plans with Geoff. Naturally the answer was, "no," as he always goes to see his kids on holidays, and I knew what was coming next - she wanted to go visit my brother - mostly because his birthday is tomorrow.

You see, Mom doesn't drive, and Matthew lives half hour away. Which means if she wants to go see him and the kids, I have to take her.

I love my brother - he's a good guy, and, well, he's my brother. But few things make my hair stand on end like a visit to his house. A trip to Vegas is more calming than a trip to his place, and since my "nerves" make me sensitive to sensory over-stimulation (funny, a Barenaked Ladies concert doesn't bother me at all - most of the time), I tend to leave there feeling like I spent the afternoon at Abu Ghraib.

What is it, exactly, that drives me batshit? It's the unbelievable noise level - you'd think they had 17 kids and not two. Matthew's wife is a life-long alcoholic, and as such she operates on the level of a glassy-eyed 12-year-old. She yells constantly, the same thing over and over and over and over, and the kids, who yell plenty themselves, just ignore her causing her to yell some more. In order to drown out her yelling, the 60-inch wide-screen tv with home theatre sound (really) is turned up to max volume. Sometimes the stereo is on as well (really). Josh (13) is playing his hand-held, 250 dollar video game without headphones, Jasmine (10) is jumping around like she's been mainlining cocaine and chocolate, and Matthew is telling his wife to "shut up already." It drives me insane, and I am forced to go to my happy place to get through the visit.

I think what freaks me out is that it is so different than how we grew up. "Shut up" was almost never said in our house, and I find that phrase a million times more offensive than "fuck you." Though, if I lived there I might be saying it, too.

The heinous Wal-Mart Easter baskets were torn open and strewn about, though I can guarantee that neither child could tell you what had been in them. As children our baskets contained paper mache eggs and those sugar eggs you looked into that were family heirlooms (and collected every year so that they could make a return visit the following year), and I can remember both of us sitting quietly - at least for a few minutes - so that we look over everything in the basket. We colored eggs, we had an Easter egg hunt. As we got older, the egg coloring evolved into making Pysanky eggs, and the egg hunt came complete with clues and instructions that rivaled anything you'd see on the Amazing Race.

It makes both Mom and I sad that these traditions - or anything even remotely resembling tradition - seem to be gone. In an attempt to do something special last Christmas (and perhaps keep the kids quiet for a few minutes) Mom brought a cool "project" for us to do. Jasmine was entertained for about six minutes before the sugar rush overtook her again, and Josh told us that "Pimps don't do crafts."

My head hurts.

I'm all set with holidays - I am not a practicing Christian, I am no longer a kid, and I gave up any delusions of a functional family meal years ago. I wish I had the money to just go someplace else so that I was unavailable to participate in these little trips. And though my mom feels the same way (she was supposed to come back to my place to watch a movie with me, but said she just wanted to go home to "decompress"), Matthew is her son, and those are her grandchildren, and she feels like she has to go (and I have to drive her there).

If nothing else, though, the drive home is always nice, and I make sure to tell Mom how much I appreciate the holidays she created for us when we were kids.

Because I am fascinated...

2007-04-07T22:28:00.000-04:00

Here's my father's Celebrity Look-alikes

You'll notice that we share one celebrity, which I guess makes sense. But, you'll also notice the lack of brown faces - again. Which leads me to believe that perhaps their database does not contain many brown or black celebrities - perhaps? Because what's funny is that when people see that picture of my father (which is grainy at best and taken in the early seventies) they say, "Your dad was Shaft?" My father looks very much like Richard Roundtree.

Here's Mom - same photo

Very odd.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHA!

2007-04-06T14:49:00.000-04:00

OK, so aside from the fact that I apparently look like Christie Brinkley and Heidi Klum (HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I will never stop laughing about this!), what else do you notice here? Um, with one exception, everyone is white. I am half white, and I guess my features tend toward "white," but I have to say that I am surprised nonetheless. I was really expecting a Queen Latifah in there someplace.

You have got to try this - it's worth the annoying sign-up process. Let us know who you supposedly look like.

I'm still laughing. Wait till I show Geoff - he'll probably pee his pants.

I obviously have a problem

2007-04-02T21:46:00.000-04:00

Tonight, while watching Dancing with the Stars (no, that's not the problem - ok, maybe it is), I found myself thinking that Ian Ziering is hot. I mean, Ian Ziering? WTF? I so need to get laid.

Now, not that he's a bad-looking guy, but anyone who knows me knows that pretty blond boys are so not my type. What's my type, you ask? Well, um, Joey Fatone is my type - so, in a word, Guidos are my type.

Around here (in my head), the term guido is not necessary a pejorative. Rhode Island is home to plenty of Guidos, and in RI they aren't just Italian. They can be Portuguese, French, or even Jewish. My personal definition is a guy who's dark-haired, probably light-skinned, short, stocky, cocky. My Guido man may or may not be a Metrosexual, may or may not be college-educated, may or may not have a cold chain permanently located around his neck. Right now my best friend, Kris, is laughing her ass off and making a list of the Guido men I have, um, "entertained" over the past decade.

Currently, my favorite famous Guido is Anthony LaPaglia - I may have mentioned him before. I think he's hot, and I'd like him to arrest me.

While the majority of the real men in my life have fallen into the Guido category, lets' face it - I like men in general, and I have another weakness, especially in the famous category - preppy men. Now, the preppy man is in direct opposition to the Guido, which just points out that I am ill and suffer from at least one other personality. But, good gawd, James Spader sends me into spasms, and has since he played the heinous Steff in Pretty in Pink. (Right now, Kris is saying "eeewwwww," probably out loud.) My favorite James Spader role was Max in White Palace, where he romanced Susan Sarandon (one of the many women I wouldn't toss out of my bed for eating crackers - but that's another post). And even though he's older and fatter now (as am I), I watch Boston Legal from time to time because he still does it for me. However, I am not hot for William Shatner, and if I ever say that I am, please call someone to come collect me.

And then there's the bad boy. For example, Keifer Sutherland. I was riding the Kiefer Sutherland bus loooong before 24 hit the airwaves, and when his engagement to Julia Roberts went south, I was really hoping that he would show up on my doorstep. Funny, that did not happen.

Lastly, there's the intelligent goofball, embodied best, in my humble opinion, in Tom Cavanaugh. I still lament the passing of Ed, and if I could honest-to-God marry someone famous, it would be him (or Steven Page or Ed Robertson, who both fall into this category). (And, hmmm, they are all Canadian.)

What can I say - I'm a ho.

So, what's Geoff? Well, he definitely not a Guido, that's for sure. I guess he's a Yankee-Preppy mix. He's got preppy sensibilities with Yankee looks (I love this picture of him - I fell in love with his profile).

Oh, wait, I forgot the Smooth Black Man category! In spite of the fact that I have never seen a Black man naked (in real life), I do like me a Smooth Black Man. Kris, any guesses here? What's that you said? Ding ding ding - Taye Diggs! I'm sorry white folks, but God was not fair when handing out the physical perfection. The finest white man simply does not hold a candle to the chocolate-dipped beauty that is Taye Diggs (or Angela Bassett, for that matter).

Obviously, I am due for some lovin'...

Look, not bitching!

2007-04-01T21:46:00.000-04:00

Finally, my horrormones have given me, and anyone in close proximity to me, a break.

I have been working on the apartment the past couple of days, and it's looking pretty good. I am really loving my new digs in general, and the living room in particular. Even though the room is smaller, and a slightly odd configuration due to an alcove, it looks much more like a living room than the set-up in Ghetto Wonderland. I have the pictures on the wall, and today I bought some fabric to recover the cushions on the couch - at, of all places, Wal-Mart, for five bucks a yard - psyched! It was exactly what I was looking for.

To call the living room eclectic would be an understatement, but I have to say that it looks more together than the tacky creations on some of those "design" shows. I was able to move my 50s/60s Danish Modern couch (very similar to pic) into this apartment (FREE from the library!), and found an awesome Danish Modern lamp (the lamp in this pic is exactly like mine!) of the same period and in the same wood finish in someone's TRASH. The couch cushion on the bottom is bare and will be covered in a green fabric. The pillow cushions for the back and sides were missing, but I salvaged the cushions from the ghetto couch and they fit perfectly (saving me a fortune in custom upholstery). The fabric is a Hawaiian print. The fact that I don't know how to sew anything more than a straight line will make this an interesting project.

The bedroom is set-up, and I plan to paint it once the weather is warmer and I can leave the windows open. The comforter cover was a 12 dollar IKEA purchase. I have also fallen in love with several bedspreads and quilts from the Company Store, but right now that's not in the budget.

The office is still a disaster (naturally), but once that's done, I'll feel like I can spend my summer relaxing and not worrying about where I'm going to live next.

OK, this made me feel better

2007-03-30T08:56:00.000-04:00

If you can't see the video (sometimes the site is dicey with Firefox), try this:

http://www.comedycentral.com/motherload/?ml_video=84175

I miss my crafts

2007-03-30T07:59:00.000-04:00

Moving sure does suck the life out of you.

I'm feeling pretty settled, and I really like the new place. But, Jeeeezus, the unpacking never seems to end. The bane of my existence has been the office - there's mountains of random crap to contend with, and the fact that Geoff is useless in this arena just slows everything to a crawl. I have to work around him, over him, under him. He won't help, he won't move his computer onto a different table (one that actually fits in the room) - he just WON'T. I have never been involved with someone so content to live in chaos.

Now, this is absolutely because he is paying the rent. Since he's paying the rent, which I fully admit is high, he feels that he does not need to do anything else - ever - around here. The running of the household is 100% my responsibility; I pay the utilities and most of the groceries (because, folks, $200 a week does not pay all of the utilities, groceries, gas, Wal-Mart runs, and occasional treat, imagine that), I install anything that needs installing (shower heads, shelves, etc), I take out the trash, I feed the animals, I clean, I cook delicious meals.... And, you know what, this wouldn't be a bad deal - if I felt like it was a "deal" and not just passive-aggressive bullshit on his end.

Whatever. Anyway. I miss my crafts. I haven't been able to sit down and play with paper yet, basically because I don't want to create more mess before I have a chance to get everything in its place. Crafting is one of those things I do to amuse myself. I don't sell enough on Etsy to make it count. I don't create enough to do craft fairs (Mom and used to do fairs all summer long, and I sort of miss it, but shows are expensive now). I guess crafting just keeps me from becoming a meth addict. Which is good. So, as soon as I can get most everything in its place, I'm going to start on my next project and prepare for the class I was asked to teach at the local rubberstamp store.

Man, I'm exhausted. I'm tired of my boyfriend, I'm tired of being attacked at work (I'm a nice person and it's very upsetting to be yelled at everyday), I'm tired of feeling lonely, I'm tired of bleeding nearly to death every 28 days (I get to have my period TWICE this month! Yay!), I'm really tired of unpacking, and I'm tired of feeling like a relentless bitch.

Great, what the hell am I crying about? Brother.

Boom

2007-03-26T21:10:00.000-04:00

We just had the first thunderstorm of the year pass through - it's starting to feel like Spring!

I've always said that I couldn't live anywhere but New England, and one of the reasons was that I would miss the seasons we have here. However, in my old age, I may be changing my mind. Now, I am certainly not complaining about the winter we had - we actually didn't have any weather that resembled winter until the past few weeks. I was kayaking and swimming in the ocean in October, hiking in shirtsleeves in November, and wondering where the snow was in December (and January and February...) - and I was happy as a clam. As much as I loved the snow and cold as a kid, I'm finding that my desire to be submersed up to my neck in sea water far outweighs my desire to build a snow fort. Or shovel. And, damn it, the cold is about the ONLY thing that prevents me from moving to Canada.

In other news, Pretend Director verbally assaulted me for the second time in a week the other day, and I am quickly tiring of it. She's gone right round the twist, and her tirades are not only inappropriate at this point, they are incomprehensible. But I don't feel like there is anything I can do about it while my application for the Director's position is pending. And, further pissing me off is the fact that PD applied for the job after she found out that I had - a day after the closing date, I might add (and more than likely without the required three letters of recommendation) - I KNOW that if I had tried to turn my resume in a day late, PD wouldn't have accepted it. "What's that? Pretend Director wouldn't have accepted it?" you say? Yep - another glaring bit appropriateness - PD had been on the search committee, and she has been accepting (and opening, and perusing) the applications. Uh huh. So she knows exactly what everyone else's qualifications are, and now she's applied. The entire process is rancid. Everyone on staff is incredulous, and several people have said that they may quit if she is hired.

I'll just sit back and bide my time. I'm keeping a journal of the process - and you can be damn sure that I'll be calling the papers if that horrid and completely unqualified woman gets the job. I keep tellin' these people, "Don't MAKE ME get my Queen Latifah on!"

Heh.

PMS, anyone?

2007-03-25T16:22:00.000-04:00

I have PMS. How do I know? Aside from the fact that I almost throttled Pretend Director today, when I was out later, I saw a homely baby, and thought (to myself, thank God), "What an ugly baby." And you know, in the eyes of most Americans, this makes me a close relative of Satan.

You are not supposed to think anyone's precious bundle of joy is homely. ALL babies are beautiful, and to think otherwise makes you a sick, twisted individual. Right?

But, come on, be HONEST - there are some ugly babies out there.

It's a Done Deal.

2007-03-22T11:45:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I dropped off my resume, cover letter, and references for the Director's position.

I have waffled back and forth on this move for weeks. The biggest drawbacks in getting the job would be that I would have to deal with a board that clearly has NO IDEA what goes on in a library, and I would have to find a way to get rid of the current Pretend Director (because she is PISSED that I applied, and if I got the job, she'd make my life hell, as she has done with the past two directors). But, if I do get the job, I'd also get to DO something - like run a library! Cool. I have dreams about moving this library into the 21st century....

The reality, though, is that I have very little chance of getting this job. I heard yesterday that the Pretend Director has been badmouthing me to the board with completely fabricated acts of "insubordination." Heh. I don't doubt that she finds me to be "insubordinate," but the crap she is slinging is just that - crap. And everyone knows it, except the board.

Basically, she's pissed that I had a somewhat private conversation with a Board member a few weeks ago, in an attempt to disabuse said board member of the notion that we in Reference don't do anything all day long. This was what the Pretend Director has been spouting, saying that all we do all day is read book reviews and order books (note: because I do not have enough HOURS to do my job while at WORK, I read my reviews and do my book order from HOME). She's pissed because up until I spoke with the board member, the only person holding private court with her was the Pretend Director. According to PD, no one else has any business speaking to a board member. She's pissed because I have applied for a job she wants, and deep down she knows that I have more more awesome library skillz in my little finger than she has in her whole body. Not that it matters. The board is looking for someone to simply do their bidding and not create any problems (or anything else, for that matter), and in PD, they have found their Messiah.

But, whatever. If I by some sprinkling of miracle dust I get the job, then yay, me. If I don't, I will at least know that I was INVOLVED IN THE PROCESS, and hopefully that alone will be a deterrent in turning Pretend Director into Real Director. Cuz that, folks, would be a travesty, and a tragedy, for the library. Really. I mean, hells, when faced with a potentially dangerous patron shouting "Kill Him" in the stacks, she said, "I'm on break."

In other news, I am really liking my new house. Yay. More on that later.

A New Blog - Like I have time for it.

2007-03-19T09:34:00.000-04:00

It's funny, I have no idea, outside of perhaps four people (my best friend, a librarian internet friend, a geocacher internet friend, and a fellow-blogger internet friend) who reads this blog. I am, however, quite certain I know who doesn't read this blog - my "in person" friends (except for K), family, and co-workers - thank God.

I don't really publicize this blog like I have my others, basically because I want the freedom to say whatever the hell I want without worrying that I will upset someone, offend someone, horrify someone, or show a side of myself that I don't want certain people (co-workers, casual acquaintances) to see. I want to be able to talk about my period, my sex life (or lack thereof), my contempt for The Pretend Director, my love of Justin Timberlake and Anthony LaPaglia, without fear of reprisal. Ya dig?

Lately, however, I get the feeling that some of the people in my life would like to see one of these "blog things" they've heard so much about (for the most part, my friends are pretty much non-tech and do not spend much time online. Hmmm, that could be because they have husbands and children and full-time jobs, and lives...). Sure, I could direct them to Cool Librarian, but, um, they're not librarians and really couldn't care less about Dewey vs. LC classification. So, I'm slapping together another blog - friends and family appropriate. I'll pretty much repeat these posts - less the talk of my vagina, Geoff's reluctance to fuck me, the over-the-top usage of the "F" word (my fucking favorite word, eva!), my disdain for most humans - huh, I may not have a whole lot left to say. It'll have more media content to make up for the lack of swearing. So, anyway, feel free to add it to your list of mindless reading. And, if you'd rather keep up with me without Too Much Information, feel free to change ships - I won't be offended. Without further ado, the aptly-titled, Jessica Abridged.

Oh, yeah, it's a Vox blog. I like to play with all the blog toys I can, so I figured I'd give this a shot. It's actually not bad (way better than LiveJournal or DiaryLand, IMHO), and maybe I can convince my blogless friends to join the "problem" if they have a user-friendly blog-creation option (it's actually easier than Blogger, I think, especially in terms of adding sidebar content). And, hey - if you currently Vox, please add me to your friends/neighborhood!

I'm so tired...

2007-03-15T22:07:00.000-04:00

...of moving.

I'm still at it, so if I owe you mail, or a phone call, or anything at all, hang tight - I'll get back to you. Today was spent getting online and unpacking some boxes. I have no idea where anything is (except for the kitchen stuff - I unpacked the kitchen days ago, like a good fat girl).

Lucy went to live with a nice couple who have a kitten the same age. I really wanted Lucy to go someplace with another cat, since she had grown so fond of Foxy and Pablo. The couple lived downstairs - and they had actually talked Drunkie into giving Lucy to them, as they were concerned by her small size. They were thrilled that I had "rescued" her. And, get this: Drunkie got a puppy - which I found shitting in the hall, completely unattended. She and her friend were in her apartment, doing bong hits, unaware that the dog was out in the hall. I really hope she never has children.

And my "children" spent the night in bed with us. I have said a million times that if I ever had kids, I would so not be one of those "family bed" parents - no way, no how. Ha. Pablo and Foxy were slightly flipped out by the move, and spend last night stuck to us like glue. Pablo NEVER sleeps on the bed, but last night he was wrapped around Geoff's head like a turban. Foxy slept on my feet. Very comfy.

I'm exhausted. But, funny, I still don't sleep! A nice new mattress, exhaustion - wide freakin' awake all night long. The ringing in the ears is horrendous right now - I guess it really is stress-related. March is half over, diet still not started - down to 75 days before my camping trip, and I swore I was not going to be in the same shape this year as I was last year. And, huh, I'm not - it's worse!

OK, rambling again - another marker of stress. I'd kill for a Xanax right now. Or some sex. Or both.

Moving Day!!!

2007-03-14T09:55:00.000-04:00

Ya know, not that I haven't been moving and unpacking for a week now! But in just a few minutes we start moving the furniture over, and then it's official. Yay! I am psyched to be out of here and into a better place. Slept there on the new mattress last night, and this morning I did something I haven't been able to do in years - I bent over to put my shoes on.

OK, gotta go - Speedy's here with the truck!

Hmmm, weird

2007-03-10T23:15:00.000-05:00

I saved a post, 'cept now it's gone.

Tired. But in a good way. We got the apartment, so I've been working and moving the past two days. Geoff took all of the boxes I had packed over while I was at work, so I was psyched that I didn't have to run up and down two flights and then one flight all morning. Between my ankle and my back (which has been fucked since I wrenched it the other day), that would have sucked. And, I can't believe I actually feel a little guilty that I didn't lug stuff for two hours, because, um, I've done EVERYTHING else.

So, anyway, I went and unpacked the boxes and got a nice chunk of the house set-up. Hopefully we can get most everything else over there tomorrow (even though we can't formally move in until Thursday). My plan is to paint the office on Monday and be done with this whole thing by Wednesday afternoon.

The only potentially crappy thing about the new place is the mattress that I was so excited about. Um, it's only a full. I almost burst into tears. As an insomniac who thrashes around all night, and who does not want anyone to touch me AT ALL during one of my frequent thrashing fits, this could be a real problem. Especially since the mattress doesn't belong to us, and there would be no place to put it if I can't stand it. I'm hoping that it is so comfy that I actually fall asleep - but since I haven't slept in more than 20 years, I may have to see if I can get some good old-fashioned tranquilizers....

OK, I'm incoherent. Nigh night.

So, are you kidding me?

2007-03-07T19:58:00.000-05:00

Sigh. I was expecting to hear from the landlord of the new apartment today so that we could get a check to her and make the final plans for moving (which I so do not want to do in just one day), and I haven't heard a peep. I was under the impression that she would be there today to clean (she insisted), but she never materialized. Hasn't called. No email. I'm starting to freak.

Add to that that I am, for all practical purposes, doing this alone, and I am just exhausted. I spent the bulk of the day packing, but, I'll be honest - it's tough staying focused when I don't know what the deal is with the apartment. Geoff was supposed to come home and help pack some stuff - and he came home alright, but he didn't lift a finger. When I asked him what the fuck he was doing, he said, "I can't help you today." WHAT!? YOU CAN'T HELP ME TODAY!? Wasn't that the effin' plan? Did you not say that you would come home after lunch and start packing the office? So, as you can imagine, I flipped out. And then I promptly wrenched my back.

I am sure that the stress, the sleepless nights on the dollar-store mattress, the coffee overload (and I have never been a more-than-a-cup-a-day coffee drinker) , and the shuffling of heavy boxes, is just manifesting physically. I keep being reminded that I am not in the best shape right now - and I just want to get this over with so that I can spend some time trying to rectify that that fact. I don't feel at all good about myself, and I certainly don't need THAT on top of what is going on right now. Cripe.

Jeez, could I stay on point here?

So, I had hoped to be almost all packed today so that we could start moving boxes over tomorrow. But, um, no. We still have the office to deal with, and the rest of the kitchen - but since it doesn't look like we will be moving anything tomorrow, that's another day to finish up. God I hope she calls. Because we can't be caught without a place to go, we looked at another place, and man, it was awful - to the tune of $900 a month! For a dump.

If something good doesn't happen soon, I'm gonna really need the waaaambulance.

Home Sweet Home?

2007-03-03T18:26:00.000-05:00

I think I have found an apartment. Actually, I've found two, but one of them (in my opinion) far outweighs the other in terms of liveability. One is in a beautiful location and a place that Geoff and I have always wanted to live, but it's small and has no closet space. No storage at all. It's only a one bedroom, and hence no place for our many computers except in the living and bed rooms. For a temp fix, it would be fine, but it definitely would test my limits of "togetherness." It does have a big yard, which is nice.

The second one is here in town. On the main drag. Two bedrooms. FIVE closets! A big, old gas stove (vs a small electric stove in the other place). And, get this, because the landlords thought they might be living there, they furnished it with a couch (which we don't have because we couldn't get it into ghetto land and had to get rid of it) and a brand new, queen, pillow-top mattress set! We have been sleeping on my 10 year-old, $99 mattress, and I swore I was not moving that torture rack again. And, the building is OLD and the apartment is just adorable. No yard, though.

And so, you guessed it, Geoff wants the other place. Because he lives to be a pain in my ass. We had a big fight tonight because he's just being miserable on top of not doing a damn thing to help in this process. Which would be fine - write the check and let me do everything else, but no, he has to be an asshole on top of it. My stomach hurts.

I'm sure that once he sees the place he'll like it and agree that it has much more "home" potential than the other apartment (because, let's not forget, he's NOT HERE doing any of this).

In any event, I am out of this place at the end of the coming week, regardless of where we go. So, if I don't post it's just because I am busy moving.

Catgate Update:
Drunkie has been in and out, seemingly carrying on as usual. She has not asked me if I've seen Lucy. She has not put up a sign. Perhaps she is relieved - finding a place around here that accepts pets is tough (more than 75% of the places I called said "no" to the cats). And considering the fact that she could have solved the open door problem with a couple of dollar-store hook-and-eye sets, perhaps she subconsciously needed/wanted an easy way out of her pet responsibilities. We'll see what happens. In the meantime, Lucy is happily chasing the boys around and eating a lot of food.

Cat Thief

2007-03-02T21:59:00.000-05:00

"Hi! My name is Lucy!"

I have a purring Lucy on my lap; she is not being returned to her "owner."

Normally, I don't steal people's pets. That's bad. But the utter neglect of this poor animal has gone on long enough.

This morning, I was sitting at my computer when I Foxy started meowing at the door. Foxy does this to alert me when Pablo wants to come in (Pablo is allowed out because he is car-savvy and is used to being outside - Foxy is not allowed out), but Pablo was sitting at my feet. I opened the door, and in strolls Lucy. Drunkie's door was wide open, and I didn't see or hear anyone inside her apartment. Lucy came in and went straight for the food dish, so I opened a can of tuna and watched in amazement as this 2 pound (if that) cat devoured the whole thing. The boys didn't even try to push her aside. After she ate, she crawled into my lap, let out a giant burp, and fell asleep.

A few minutes later, I heard Drunkie leave her apartment, close her door, and go down the stairs - she didn't even know Lucy was gone.

Now, let me tell you, if I came into my kitchen to find an open door, my first question would be, "Where's Foxy!?" He is not car smart, and I would be terrified that he'd get hit. I'd be calling him and calling in late for work - finding my baby would be priority one.

I watched the boys sit side-by-side and stare at her while she played with a cat-nip mouse like a crazed lunatic. Then, I left for work. When I went into the hall, D's door was wide open again, and I could hear someone in the shower. No one else was around (which surprised me, as she had a party going on in there most of the night).

Pablo: "What the hell is that?"

Foxy: "I don't know, but it's eating our food."

I fully expected that she would ask me about her cat when I returned home. She was home, but she never came over and asked, which I found odd, since I have rescued the cat from the hall a half-dozen times now. I heard her talking and laughing on the phone, then I heard her leave for work.

So, guess what? IF she does ask, I haven't seen her cat, just her open door. That poor baby is 8 months old (at least) and is the size of a 4 month old kitten. The last time I took the cat back to Drunkie's apartment, no one was home; I looked for food and found EMPTY cabinets. Beer and Diet Coke in the fridge. Her food bowl was empty and her water bowl dry. Uh uh, not on my watch; back to my house she went. You have a fucking faucet - use it!

That girl doesn't have the sense God gave a Goose - I mean, she's had a kicked in, non-functioning door for 3 months now! I'm sorry she's such a mess, I'm sorry she doesn't have food - and, you know what, I know what it's like to be poor. If it were just a matter of food, I'd gladly buy her a giant bag of cat food. But this is the sixth time I have stopped that animal from going down the stairs and out the door and into the street. I'm pissed, and I'm not going to be the person who scrapes that baby off the road.

"Please pet my head!"

(Look at the size of her! I have small hands - her head is tiny.)
Please excuse the mess - I'm packing.

Randomy Randomness

2007-03-01T12:04:00.000-05:00

OMG, everything is such a fucking mess - literally and figuratively - that I haven't had the time/energy/will to write a proper post. Which is frustrating, because I spend my days running into things I really want to write (eloquently) about, but by the time I sit down to do, I've forgotten what the hell I wanted to say.

So, for your reading amusement, some more random tidbits:

Apartment Hunting
Let's see, I have called 27 ads - 4 answered, 2 of those people were NUTS, and the other two wouldn't allow cats. The remaining 23 people have not called me back. And lets not forget, $800 a month for a 1 bedroom is average. We have exactly 30 days left.
OOOOOOH! NEWSFLASH! Just got a call from a landlord and I have an appointment at 4:45 to see a place. It's in a not pretty neighborhood, third floor, but at $625, it's a steal. And since it will likely be just for the summer, I can deal, if it's not a total pit. which brings me to...

The "Plan"
Well, because I felt like I need to make a decision - some sort of decision about anything - I decided that if I either don't get the director's job, or another real job opportunity does not present itself before the end of summer, we are going to move to Mass. Now, we'd be moving towards the Cape - and there's no jobs there either - but, quite frankly, I'm sick of RI. It's been 3 years since I graduated, and no job. None. Nada. Zip. I did think about just quitting my job now and working some frivolous job for the summer - no stress, can't pay any less, maybe get a tan - but I have 3 weeks vacation coming to me this summer, and a few places to visit, so I might as well hang tough and wait and see what happens with the director's position.

American Idol
Yes, I have been watching. I never watched until the end of last season, but this year, my gay boyfriend (Mom is always saying, "Are you sure he's not gay?") got roped in, so, we're watching.
The men are completely unimpressive so far, though I do like a couple of them. I think it's going to come down to the Black Soulful women - Lakisha, Melinda, and Stephanie. I am rooting for Lakisha, because she has a beautiful voice, and, quite frankly, she just kicks ass. She's a big girl who seems at home in her body (I envy her) - last night she was rockin' a miniskirt and an orange top. Simon suggested that she get a new look, because her outfit was "distracting." Geoff said, "Yeah, Simon's distracted because she's all woman, and he wants her." Sometimes I love my gay boyfriend.

I've always liked this guy...

2007-02-26T16:30:00.000-05:00