Surviving my anti-social mood

This weekend is the Blues Fest down at Tom McCall Waterfront Park. Some of my friends are there, and I was planning on it, but it's been kind of a bleh weekend so I bowed out. I'm in one of those anti-social moods that usually roll around when I have a ton of money to pay out that will leave me flat broke. Until like August. Have I mentioned it's July 5th? Yeah. It's a drag.

Tonight there is also another party that I am not going to, but if I could have I would have. It's down south in Cancun and I hope that at this very moment my friends there are getting themselves all purty'd up and having a couple of pre-function cocktails in anticipation. It sounds like the kind of party I would like to be at right now. I guess I will find out tomorrow if I was right.

So I finally went to the store only because the kitnesses are down to one can of wet food and almost no Greenies, and what the hell I could use a few things. So I hit the Fred Meyer at the unprecedented time of 6:30pm on a Saturday. Turns out, that's Indian time. I should have known since my entire parking garage was empty. I'm not kidding I was about the only white girl in there. Not that there's anything wrong with that. It's probably the last time I will be in that Fred Meyer in a long time, so I guess it almost doesn't really make a difference.

I am moving next weekend. I have plenty to do between then and now, including dreaming up a wad of cash, but it will happen. This means a new beginning, new routines, new Starbucks and new supermarkets. It will be nice to get out of this flipping OVEN of an apartment though. It's like 68 outside today but inside I am not kidding you it is 90. At least. Talk about retaining the heat.

I was listening to the radio on the way home and that version of "I Will Survive" by Cake was on the radio. Now, don't get me wrong, I hate that song in any other version - Gloria Gaynor, Kinesis - but this one is actually not bad. It sort of makes fun of it. I like that. The original is so... so.... Cancun Hotel Zone. So even though the version was different as I listened on my way back from the Fred Meyer, it called to memory the original and Kinesis versions, and I thought to myself, you know, I DID survive. I survived a lot. So right now, I deserve to kick back tonight and watch "Big Love" reruns on On Demand and be totally anti-social. So that's what I am doing. And I may be missing out on some good times all over the world, but that's okay. There will be more.

Ladies and gentlement, for your viewing and listening pleasure, I present to you, Cake.


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P.S. I just noticed the lead singer for Cake looks like Bundy.

Tired and dry

I thought I should blog tonight. I am just exhausted and I don't really have much to say, but I feel some how obligated. It's not you, it's me. Really.

So my esteemed brother-in-law Paul gave me a project for LGRT, and I will work on that very soon. I even thought about starting tonight, but my mood isn't right - perhaps tomorrow while I am beginning a long weekend of procrastination. I'm moving soon (SOON) and I haven't really done anything along the lines of prepping for it. I work best under pressure (or, you know, when someone comes over and does it FOR me), so I have no worries about this particular move. It should be my last move for a long long time. Famous last words, right?

Last night my life-long friend Vinnie came in to town. He was with his wife and son, but I did not see those two, which actually is pretty common for Vin's visits. I was trying to remember when the last time I saw him was - I am pretty sure it was when I visited my brother and sister-in-law in Yorba Linda back in May of 2005. Anyway, Vinnie was in town during the break from the Olympic trials being held down in Eugene. He was giddy. Vin went to the University of Oregon with my brother Chris, and he spent a lot of time in our family home in Beaverton for holidays and stuff. As a Duck, having the trials in Eugene has been great. It was nice that he was able to come up for a couple of days during the break and visit my mom and other friends.

He showed up (advanced notice, but for Pete's sake) at Tom's apartment at about 7:15pm last night, and I met them over at the Broadway Saloon at around 7:40 or so. Here's what I (don't) (really) love about the Broadway - it used to be my local like I don't know 6 or 7 years ago, and I might go in there maybe once every 9 months or so. I mean I never go in there. But of course, it being the Broadway, I walk in and know people. So you gotta go through the whole Oh, hey, how are you blah blah blah you look great blah blah blah I can't believe you still work here blah How long has it been blah? Twenty years? Oh my hell blah! Yeah whatever, it's a flipping school night, practically TOMORROW it's so late, let me just find my friend and get this thing rolling.

So it was nice catching up. Vinnie likes to party and all that, and I am just not into it right now, so I had a couple of club sodas and stayed a couple of hours chatting and talking about old times and catching up on the Southern California set. It was nice, and though I got home right around 10, I had to watch the (dvr'd) season finale of "Hell's Kitchen" (which is a two-parter for crying out loud) and went to bed around 10:45. FORTY FIVE MINUTES PAST MY BEDTIME. Ugh.

I slept fine and got up and felt hungover. So I'm kind of pissed off. All day I felt hungover. Which is just stupid. I haven't had any alcohol in like, I don't know, a month or something, and yet... so I figured what it must be is that all this time that I was going out on school nights and drinking and then feeling like crap all the next day and just EXHAUSTED and begging to go to bed that night and all that, it had nothing to do with the booze. It apparently had EVERYTHING to do with a messed up sleep pattern. So I make this sort of pledge to myself that I am going to lay off the sauce for a while, what real good comes of it and all that, and really, it was totally getting a bum rap. I feel totally gypped. I can only IMAGINE how beer feels right now.

So I am typing away right now but the look on my face says it all - drawn mouth, drooping eyes, head sort of bobbling around on my neck... I am so going to go get ready for bed, you can believe that. I'm all "hungover" but I'm really not.

I want to blame it on screwed up sleep patterns, but it probably is just more psychosomatic fucked-up-ness that I deal with on a regular basis.

So it's been a year. Again.

I kind of forgot. But I've been back a year. Again. I guess I moved back around the 23rd of June or so. My one year back at First American is... um... Wednesday, maybe? How about that.

So what are the differences between this re-entry and the first re-entry? Well, this time I think I was ready to be done with the whole living-and-working-in-Cancun thing and was looking forward to being a normal Oregonian. The last time I was still trying to acclimate to "normal" life and couldn't stand how rude everyone is here. This last time I just wanted to fly a little bit under the radar, the first time I wanted everyone to hear my story (but, you know, back then nobody wanted to hear it).

The first time, I got a job that included bonuses, and this time around, maybe not so much. I feel much broker now, because since I haven't had any bonuses, I have not been able to build up any savings or pay down much debt. Plus I have a car payment and bigger insurance premiums. So financially I feel like crap. I have to find a way to fix that.

I thought that by now, I mean, it's been a year for Pete's sake, that I would be over the issues I had when I got back. But um, I'm not. And I need to continue to find a way to fix THAT too, because it's not good ju-ju.

People still tell me they think it's a pretty big thing that I did, both moves, and I know this, and it has made me into a better person, a more thoughtful person, a more patient (okay, that's a real generality there) person, a more compassionate person. I'm glad I did it and got it out of my system, and I know I won't do anything like that unless I have GOOD money coming in or the perfect (near, even)situation lined up. I have definitely learned to never say never.

I don't have any regrets, but I sure wish I had some more money in my savings.

Heating up

So it's supposed to be hot today, 98 degrees (that's 37 to those of you who don't live in the US and never have). Though I have two pools at my disposal here in my little corner of paradise, I probably won't go lay out today. Reason one is that I haven't shaved my legs and reason two is it is probably going to be WAY too hot to lay there and occasionally dip. And there will be roughly 9 million people there as well.

My apartment doesn't really take hot days well. I'm getting ready to close the windows in the living room to keep what is cool in here and leave what is hot out there. We have very little humidity, but when you get in to the high 90s it kind of doesn't matter.

What is mildly amusing is that this is all they are talking about on the morning news, but I'm getting used to that.

The kittens aren't used to heat as it hasn't been hot since they were born. I throw ice cubes in their water for fun now and again, and I expect they will drop off to sleep the day away as soon as I leave for the supermarket and points beyond, so their activity will be minimal, but still. All that fur. Has to be hot.

So that's really it. After my horrifyingly stress-related hair situation this week (did I mention that?), I am newly shorn and properly reddened, and I feel rejuvenated enough to face the Beaverton area drivers and the fun that is the Fred Meyer. I may even venture forth to do a little shopping, who knows.

Now you know my day ahead. Let this be inspiration for you all to go out and do something way more exciting.

I do what I can to help.

Edit: I just checked and it turns out, I didn't tell you about the hair situation! So here it is.

I schedule my hair appointments out for the year. Every five weeks, like a little security blanket. My salon, and especially my colorist Taunja, is always hopping - pretty popular place. So all last week I was in Uptown, the branch with two people, covering for the assistant in there (which kind of explains my lack of ranting and raving here all week). I have made it clear to most of my coworkers that the Uptown branch is a branch that needs a break, literally, simply because if one person leaves for, say, a client lunch or to give a class or to go market clients, the other person is pretty much denied the simple creature comforts of getting lunch, having a cigarette (that's me) or going to the bathroom. They are used to it, but I try to let others know how difficult and frustrating it can be.

All that being said, my hair appointment was for Thursday at 3:45. I am no fan of doing it during work hours, especially now that I am a float, but you get in when you can get in, period. Sometimes my boss will call in some help from the downtown main offices, just a body that can cover phones and such, so that at least there is one escrow person in the branch, and that was the plan for Thursday - because the branch manager had a scheduled doctor's appointment for - you guessed it - Thursday afternoon. Crap.

I discovered this fact on Monday, and my salon, which by the way is ONE MILE from this branch, is closed on Mondays. I felt the panic creeping up, but discussed it with the manager and she sort of indicated that we might both try to figure out a way around this issue. Tuesday I phoned the salon and got some girl who I do not know, who basically said, "Yeah, Taunja doesn't work Wednesdays and she's booked the entire Thursday and Friday. Oh and she goes on vacation next week." Oh. My. HELL.

I'm screwed. I tell Whitney this, and she seems unaffected. She also doesn't make a move to call her doctor to see about rescheduling her appointment. I mean, I know the doctor is more important than hair, but me having to go SEVEN WEEKS between cut and color is not an option. It just isn't. And I do this not just for myself, but for EVERYone, since the good Lord knows what a catastrophe my hair out of control is.

So I am a jarbled, jumbled wreck of a girl at this point, and then realize that my CUT is at 5pm, it's the color that is earlier. If I can get Taunja to squeeze me in ANY OTHER HOUR OF THE DAY but Thursday afternoon, I can swing it. I call back the salon and get the machine, and leave a whining, pitiful message on the machine (along the lines of "somebody help me". It's not pretty and I am not proud of it). So I drive home, and at this point, panic has given way to anger. No other branch has to put up with this crap. This is so not okay. You can't do normal things in this branch that other people can, and no other branch gets that. It's ridiculous. I call a friend and bitch about it. The underlying issue is missing the appointment, but what fuels it is the WHY. Unacceptable.

I call Barbie, who has been going to this salon since 1986, for advice. She tells me to call back and ask for Valerie, the receptionist, and appeal to her abilities. She schools me on the best way to approach Valerie. Suck up. I can do that.

I spoke with Valerie on Wednesday morning, and she saved the day. She got me in at 6pm on Friday, (and actually it ended up being 5:15 on Friday) and basically saved my life. My sanity at the very least. I raved up and down about the rock star that she is and she told me I made her day. I made HER day? Au contraire mon frere. Or soeur.

So here's the point of all this: I was ridiculously stressed out over this not being able to make an appointment that has been scheduled out for a long long time because there is no one else in that branch and God help us all if suddenly a tooth abcesses on the same day as a client presentation. As it was, I barely managed to get my eyebrows waxed at the salon THREE DOORS DOWN from the branch on Wednesday afternoon, a process that takes 15 minutes, because of coverage. How is this okay? How can you NOT go get a sandwich or go to the bathroom or take the mail out if one of the two people in that branch has another commitment? It's frustrating to me and I don't even work there all the time. I can't imagine what it is like for them. So not only was this a stressful hair near-disaster, it is also a lesson in staffing. I implore someone to move over to that branch just for the sanity of the two people in there. Somebody for the love of God let them go out and get some lunch once in a while!

All right then. As you were.

Progress

Remember those cute little fuzz balls?


They were so small they couldn't do anything but scamper around and hang off my thigh.

They grow up, though.

So fuzzy. So innocent.

Here they are this evening. Their eyes are closing and they look all irritated on account of my piece of shit camera. The flash bothers them since it flashes for like fifteen minutes while you wait for your clothes to dry and the picture to take.

But look how big they are.



Not yet a year old, still arm-in-arm. Such good girls.

They're just resting up for tonight's festivities, I'm sure.

Reaching out

Dear Wife from "The King of Queens" (whatever your name is):

You seem so unhappy. Have you considered divorce? I'm no marriage counselor, and nobody ever called me an expert on the subject, but it seems to me that if you don't like or get along with your husband, you should probably just end the relationship.

I've only watched your show a couple of times, so maybe I am missing something that other people see. Maybe I missed the episodes when the two of you were dating. But the marriage seems to have gone south somewhere, and since all you do is fight and try to change your husband, it could be time for you to consider moving on. I think you'd be embarrassed to air all of that dirty laundry on TV. Do you realize people are laughing at you? I'm not really sure why they are either, maybe they take comfort in seeing other people in a worse situation than themselves. I don't think you'd like that if you knew, so I'm telling you. You don't seem like someone that could really be pleased by anything.

Perhaps if you guys split you might be able to find someone that would put up with your constant nagging, and then maybe you'd smile more. You know what they say about more muscles frowning and all that. I'm not trying to meddle in your personal life or anything, but since you're on TV, I guess you sort of set yourself up for it. You just seem really unhappy and what with the way you constantly insult and nag your husband, he can't be that happy either. You don't appear to have any kids, and thank goodness for that, so it should be a pretty easy split. I really think you should consider it.

Very truly yours,

TtheD

I know someone who watches this show because it reminds him of his own marriage. I think that's just sad. He's a really nice, creative guy and the thought that his wife, who I have never met, is this kind of a shrew is really a bummer.

Frankly I don't even know why I am sticking around for the next episode, but there it is. There's no explanation for what I do.

Adaptation

I'm of the belief that there is no leaving the house without spending money. It might be why I spend so much time at home. Even going to work costs me money, and I am not talking about gas prices. Think about it - if you feel like getting out and about, the odds are good there will be money spent. Dinner with friends, the movies, shopping, swinging by Target. Sure I could go up to Washington Park and walk around the Rose Gardens, and that wouldn't cost me anything, but knowing me I would probably want a green tea Frappucino (no whip) on the way home. Even a trip to the grave means stopping at Langdown for a couple of flowers. The errands I am running this morning means I have to spend money, but that's understandable since it's groceries and stuff.

So, for me, it's get out of the house and do something not work-related to stimulate other senses, or stay home and not spend any money, and then feel like my weekend was wasted. A trade off I can live with when I am feeling broke, because, you know, I get over it.

Now that I am moving into a private condo instead of a huge monstrosity of an apartment complex, the deposits are more, and I have to actually watch my money. I don't like that so much, because I am impulsive and like to buy stuff. I think maybe though this is the right age to start living with a budget in mind. Not easy for me, but I can adapt. In the long run, it's worth it.

Same can be said for anything, really. Where you choose to live, since a lot of my readers have chosen to hang their hats in places much different than where they were raised, is a personal choice and it doesn't matter for how little or long you choose to stay. Whenever someone asks me about my time in Cancun, I get a "Why did you leave?" -type of question, always. The first time it was planned, so that's an easy answer; the second time, not so easy. But I am always left feeling like the person who asked the question is somehow smugly happy that I no longer live there, that perhaps I failed in some way, and now I have to be here, like them, living a mundane existance. Maybe I'm just too sensitive. Or cynical.

For those of us that went and came back, big kudos, because we stepped out of the box for however long, did something most people only dream of doing, and lived to tell the tale. To those who stay, and make their lives there, the same. Because happiness comes from within and it doesn't matter where you live. I'm happy for anyone who has found their happiness.

And for those people that seem to find some kind of pleasure that a person has decided it is time to pack their things and move on to pursue their happiness, I hope someday they find their own. It's no fun to go around looking for the discomfort of others to make their own lives seem somehow better. Everything we do that is different is hard at first, but the rewards are great and worth it.

I'll have one good day, please, hold the additional deposits.

I don't want to do yesterday over again. Not only did I get some icky personal news (financial, always financial) (well, not "news" but let's just call it "realization" - as in, when you realize you haven't quite recovered financially from a poor decision made a year ago and coming to terms with that fact is not conducive to a good day), but I also got some icky work news (I'm not going to go into it, I'll wait for you work-readers to get the memo) and I happened to be sitting right at the scene of the crime at the time. No amount of good natured humor could make this news any less icky, so I pretty much holed up in the office I was sitting in and kept to myself. Apparently I was gritting my teeth most of the day as, on the drive home, my jaw was sore. Huh.

THEN I get home and there is a note on my door. I gave my notice a couple of weeks ago and immediately tore apart the bedroom to pack winter-related clothes away, and just sort of stopped mid-stream and haven't quite made it back to the project. The note says that even though my move-out date isn't until JULY 23, they want to do a 5 minute maintenance walk through to be prepared for any major projects that might need doing when I move out. Nice. I don't care that my bedroom is a DISASTER, not as much as the fact that I have two illegal kitties. You see, folks, it's not just specific to Mexicans. My fear is that they will make me pay some money for my last month. And since, these days, EVERYBODY WANTS MY MONEY, I spent some time on the phone last night trying to come to a solution (but the note said they will be in any time from June 18 to June 20 from 9am to 4am and it's not like I can take them to work for three days, plus what do you do with all the kitty accoutrements like litter box, food, various toys and shoe strings, etc.?). After talking to my brother, who is also harboring an illegal alien (kitty), he said don't sweat it. He thinks the maintenance guy doing the walk through won't know I don't have a pet deposit in, and plus these are just guys doing their job, not the Pet Deposit Police. I don't know. I have no control over it, so I am just gonna roll with it.

Today I go to Lincoln Tower for a day, and maybe that will be better. I hope so. This morning on my way in I plan to go through the Universe drive-thru and order up a good one.