Slight Interruption April 29, 2005 ~ 11:30 am
Posted by Julie in : Daily Grind , comments closedFrom talks of Seams, restraints, and plots to take over the world.
You may have noticed that I put a link up in the sidebar that says “AIDSWalk.” I’m doing AIDSWalk New York on Sunday, May 15, and would love to have any donations you guys feel like giving. Proceeds will benefit the Gay Mens’ Health Clinic, which takes care of men, women, and children affected by AIDS. The crisis is far from over, and I’ll be walking with the Oldest, Youngest, Rick, and Jordana to raise awareness and funds for a cure. It’s the 21st Century - there is no reason why we should still be living with epidemics.
Okay, PSA over. Feel free to jump back into conversations about sex, drugs, and rock n roll…after all, we’re only two days away from Beltaine and six days from Cinco de Mayo. If we can’t talk about the good things in life now, when can we?
Thanks to everyone who makes a donation!
Movin’ On Up April 28, 2005 ~ 11:35 am
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I swear, I will someday live here. Upper West Side, NYC.
I am recovering from the apartment let-down. I really believe that the universe has a reason for everything, even when we can’t see it. Who knows, maybe the reason behind this one is that it’s going to be really freakin’ hot during the time period I would have been moving, and by not getting the apartment I have saved one or more of my friends the heart attack they would have suffered while helping me. Or something.
But I have a plan. I have several plans, actually. My long term plan involves living in the building pictured above, after living in a spiffy building in Brooklyn that overlooks the waterfront and the Statue of Liberty. Both of those will have to wait until I am making far more money, however.
Current plan is this: I’m putting out feelers with my friends, letting them know I’m looking for a place to live in Brooklyn. I don’t think I want to move until September, thus saving everyone a heart attack, and saving me on an air-conditioned electric bill. (I don’t pay for the electricity in my current digs - that was the landlord’s concession to putting me in a hole. That, and my apartment is almost surely illegal.) Also, I won’t miss the light while I can get out and play in the park, as I can in the warm weather. It’s only when it starts getting miserable out that I will feel trapped. I hope.
During the summer, I will also be checking out Craigslist to see what the offerings are in the price range I want. I will be putting back money so that I have more of it for the move. And I will be replacing two really decrepit pieces of furniture so that when I move, I will have a nice dresser and tv stand/entertainment center. Because my dresser, while an antique, is falling apart. Nobody has really maintained it, and the back of it is falling off. Plus, it ain’t that great of an antique. I want a new dresser. And my current TV stand housed my parents’ stereo back in the day. It’s large and unsteady, and I would like something more streamlined that doesn’t carry the threat of death by television falling on me. I don’t think that’s outrageous, do you?
So you see, I am making plans from my bunker-like apartment. And soon, I will come out and take over the world. Or at least a new apartment.
Political Rant April 28, 2005 ~ 9:51 am
Posted by Julie in : Daily Grind , comments closedThe Republicans have yielded the point on their new ethics rules. Which means that we go back to the old rules. The “new” rules said that “complaints could have been dismissed within 45 days if the committee could not decide how to proceed, one lawyer could represent both the subject of the inquiry and other witnesses, and lawmakers would get new rights of notification and appeal.”* In other words, they were a giant loophole for Tom DeLay to slip through. But now, he doesn’t have that. Even if the committee deadlocks, they could send complaints to an investigatory subcommittee.
I, for one, can’t wait for the fun and games to begin. CNN.com was saying that the DeLay hearings are going to be on scale with the Clinton-Lewinski hearings of the 90s. All I have to say to that is “Except this time, it will be over something worth spending tax dollars on.”
Now if only they would have spent those tax dollars punishing the officers in charge of the Abu Ghraib debacle. And don’t tell me that one brigadier general and one major getting punished is fair. In any other situation in the world, the ones in charge are the ones who bear ultimate responsibility for what their staff does. If a member of my staff fucks up, you can bet that I will be called into my boss’s office before the day is over and asked to explain. Because I should have been supervising, because that’s my job. Only under the Bush administration do the people on top get away with murder. Literally.
*taken from the New York Times
Nastiness April 27, 2005 ~ 4:42 pm
Posted by Julie in : Daily Grind , comments closedYou know what’s gross? When you’ve been feeling a little gum tenderness for a few days, and despite insane amounts of mechanized brushing and flossing (yes, my flosser vibrates, shut up), it doesn’t abate. And then, while you are sitting at your desk, you feel something in the gum trouble-spot with your tongue. You have no toothpick, so you stick your finger in your mouth to probe, and are rewarded with…
a small, white piece-of-something hard.
Is it part of your tooth? Is it part of a filling? What the hell is it???
And yes, I realize that there were many gross things in that story, not just one. Just be glad it didn’t happen to you. Nasty.
Well, fuck. *updated* April 26, 2005 ~ 11:16 pm
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Last picture of snow. Promise. Woodstock, NY.
Note the Unky Mood to the left. I chose “Disappointed” only because they didn’t have one that said “So Bummed Out That Breathing Is Optional.” Can’t blame Unky, that’s a lot of words to fit in one of those tiny squares. I could send him a picture of my face right now so that he would have a model for the picture, tho.
I’ve mentioned several times that I was saving up for a move. Well, I found out tonight that it ain’t gonna happen. The landlady’s mother had a cousin who suddenly needed the apartment, and they had to give it to her, apparently. Understandable, but still sucky on my part. Would’ve been the perfect move, too. Right next door, the upstairs apartment. About the size of mine, with plenty of windows (and therefore light), a bathtub (I only have a shower stall), dishwasher (I have a tiny kitchen sink), bedroom big enough that Rick’s feet wouldn’t touch the wall when he laid down in the bed (needless to say, this is a problem here) and oven (I have a toaster oven). It would have been an all around upgrade, and affordable. I just saw the inside of the place last night and was completely psyched about moving in June, but instead I will be staying in my dark, humid Hobbit Hole of an apartment for the summer. Made moreso by the fact that there are no other apartments in this area that affordable. Damn. I didn’t realize how much I wanted out of this apartment until it became obvious that I wouldn’t be.
I got the news at the end of rehearsal and managed to make it home before bursting into tears. That lasted a good ten minutes before cats fighting broke up my pity party. So I got up again, ate some Trefoils and chocolate covered pretzels, and will spend the rest of the night talking to my friend Leenie on IM and reading Harry Potter fanfic. While I’m wallowing in self-pity, I might as well indulge to the fullest, no? Oh, and that sound you’re hearing? The World’s Smallest Violin playing “I Cry For You.” Just in case you were wondering.
UPDATE
I just checked my horoscope for yesterday with AstroDienst: “For many people, this is an extremely irritating influence, requiring great patience and forbearance as well as willingness to keep yourself in the background for a while.” I think that’s the understatement of the year. Oh, and it ends with this: “Try to relax and avoid situations that produce needless tension.” Ha.
Ch-ch-changes April 25, 2005 ~ 11:42 am
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Hey, look! Snow. What the hell, it snowed in Pittsburgh today. Woodstock, NY.
Several months ago, I submitted my blog to The Weblog Review. I did this in a cheap ploy to drive up traffic, I’ll admit it. I crave comments, kiddos. I like giving you all a voyeuristic glimpse into my life, and then letting you comment about it. It’s like a twisted, information superhighway kind of Dear Abby. I write the letter, you all give the advice, so to speak. We are symbiotic, baybee.
But I digress. When I submitted my site, months ago, it seemed as if they would never get to me. There are 40 review slots, and blogs are reviewed as people have time to do so. And despite how I repeatedly get shot in the foot with this kind of procrastination thinking (most of my college career comes to mind here), I figured I would have plenty of time to get the blog in order. And besides, I had a whole bunch of episodes of The Apprentice to catch up with on TiVo.
Today, I see that I’m number six on the list to be reviewed. Six! Do you know how fast they could get through six blogs? Friday I was number eight, so they knocked off two over the weekend. Reviewing could be imminent!
And so I look around my blog and see some crap that could be changed. My sidebar, for instance, has somehow gotten out of control and “grown like Topsy” as the saying goes. Do I still need a Weather Wench? My blogroll is like a freakin’ three foot scroll. Doesn’t Blogrolling have a better way to arrange you guys? Maybe I should do a dropdown menu for my archives. That would involve playing with the code to make it match the rest of the site. I should definitely figure out how to do a trackback to each post. Been meaning to for a while, just didn’t get around to it. The ch-ch-changes, they are a comin’.
So that’s what I’ll be doing tonight, my night off from rehearsal. After a quick trip to the laundromat to wash the couch slipcover. The doctor put the Piss Crusader on steroids on Friday, and steroids make you pee, don’t ya know. But we were prepared for this; underneath the slipcover was a vinyl mattress cover and two waterproof crib pads. Yes. My couch has a condom. But it was worth it. All I have to do is wash the damn slipcover, instead of soaking the couch in Nature’s Miracle. That, my friends, is priceless.
And yes, said Piss Crusader is doing better. No more sneezing or wheezing. But I talked with Mom this morning, and we’ve decided that his steroid dosage should be cut back a bit. A full dropper, twice a day, seemed a little excessive even before the couch got christened this morning. Now it just seems like I’m tempting Fate. Piss Crusader will be happier, too. Little sucker bit me this morning while he was trying to get away from the dose of steroids. Jose Canseco he ain’t.
Give myself a heart attack. April 22, 2005 ~ 11:15 am
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Licheny goodness. Woodstock, NY.
So this morning as I’m proofing the Commencement program galleys, to make sure all the students who have graduated are listed, I realize that a number of them are missing. And then I notice a pattern.
Sure enough, every one who graduated retroactively (meaning some little detail was taken care of after their graduation date, so we graduated them retroactively to that date) since last May was missing. With the exception of March and April, which I emailed to Publications last week.
Why did I only email those two lists, you may ask. Because I thought my boss had sent the other retro lists. Which she hadn’t. Shiiiiiit.
So I just made a mad scramble to send all the retro lists, minus the students who were in the program, and right now I’m trying to proof the rest of the list that is right. And I have still not been given a due date for this. I like to know how long I have to fix my mistakes, ya know?
Oh, and Jesse and I are going back to the vet this afternoon, because he’s been congested and sneezing this week, and I’m worried about pneumonia. It sets in very quickly and is sometimes lethal in cats, and I would like to avoid that, ya know?
But hey, tomorrow is Saturday.
Discontented April 21, 2005 ~ 2:35 pm
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More snow. Because that’s what I have pictures of. Woodstock, NY.
I think that’s the best word for how I feel right now. Discontented. As in, not content. I am not content because I am in rehearsal for the next two weeks, so I leave my house at 8:20 (on a good day) and don’t get home till 11:30 PM. I can’t enjoy the rehearsal process as much as I should be because my day job is taking so much out of me. Every two seconds, someone is asking me a question, and while I’m trying to just roll with it, I spend the day getting more and more pissed off at people. I feel as if I don’t have time to breathe; even when I’m home, I have to make sure Jesse gets his medicine, which always involves a fight that takes more energy out from me.
I’m trying to save money, so I’ve been bringing my lunch and dinner from home this week. That basically means a sandwich, applesauce, a fruit cup, and some pretzels for lunch, and either ramen or Diny Moore beef stew for lunch. I resent not being able to choose exactly what I want to eat, even though I know I am saving a lot of money. Because of this, I can’t remember the last meal I actually enjoyed. I would make pasta or something good to eat that isn’t ramen, except when I get home at night and fight Jesse to take his medicine, I don’t even have the energy to cook.
I’m getting emails from MoveOn.org and various Democrats, telling me to call my Senators and blanket my neighborhood with fliers about the Nuclear Option. And while I want to, I don’t have time. So that’s one more thing tugging at me.
I was at Rick’s last night, the first time I’ve seen him since this weekend, and while we did manage to “convene the procedure” (as Dooce would say) a couple of times, I didn’t feel like we had any time to just hang out, chill, and talk. And when we talk on the phone during the day, I am invariably working and not really able to just chat. I miss just being able to spend time with him, without feeling rushed or tired. And I’m irritated that I can’t have that connection when I most want it.
Maybe that’s it. I’ve gone through the last four days feeling both rushed and tired, which makes me more irritated than a pair of sandals that constantly chafe your feet. I’m being rubbed raw by circumstances beyond my control.
At least tomorrow is Friday. That means that on Saturday and Sunday I only have to concentrate on one job - rehearsal. That will be nice.
My cat is allergic April 20, 2005 ~ 10:47 am
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It’s going to hit 85 degrees today. Here’s some more snow. Woodstock, NY.
Last night when I got home, Jesse was sneezing. A lot. Once I counted 15 in a row. And he sounded a little stuffy when he was breathing. I called my mom and asked her if she thought he was allergic to his meds. She said “How do I know? I’m not a vet.” So I called the vet and left a detailed message about what my cat was now suffering through.
They opened at 10 AM. At 10:04, I got a call from the vet. I told him what was going on, and he said “We’ll switch medicines, no problem, sometimes cats have this reaction.” I asked if the new one would take care of the sneezing. “Yep, should fix the respiratory problem. And it tastes good.” I said he told me the last one was going to taste good. He laughed. “This one is good, he won’t have a problem with it.” I asked how much it was. “Normally twenty five dollars, but for you, I’ll give it for fifteen.” (I mentioned that I was strapped for cash when I was there on Friday.)
What I actually told the vet next: “You ROCK! Thanks!” He laughed some more.
So I will be leaving work early today to get the new medicine and toss it down Jesse’s throat before rehearsal. Fortunately, my big boss is so sensitive about animals (she puts her dog in doggie day-care everyday) that she will be letting me out of a seminar early. She ROCKS, too.
My name is not “Mami”. April 19, 2005 ~ 11:12 am
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More icy beauty - Woodstock, NY.
I had a great dinner with Jordana in the East Village last night. I think the waitress thought we were nuts when we asked her “How big is your pitcher of sangria?”, but what the hell, we’ve been gypped in the past. Last night we were not gypped. There were 10 glasses of sangria in that damn thing. After our third glass, we were referring to it as “The Bottomless Pitcher of Sangria,” after four glasses we did something we never do. We left alcohol behind, because we were just that drunk and after all, Monday is a school night.
We had a great time, what I remember of it, and talked about tips for saving money (we’re both back to bringing our lunches to work again, and I’m bringing ramen or Dinty Moore beef stew to make at rehearsal all this week), how I need to get back to going to ritual every month because I feel so great after I do, and why does Othello believe what Iago is telling him in Othello anyway - I mean hello, he’s a dick. It was a good night, and as I finally got out of the subway station at 10:30 to walk to my house, I saw three young black guys walking the same direction.
I walked intrepidly onward, admiring the blacktop that had finally gotten poured on our playground after only 6 months of work, when I hear one of them walking beside me. “Hey!” he said. “Hey! What’s your name?” I ignored him. “Psst! Hey! What’s your name?” More ignoring from my direction. “Psst! Mami!” Okay, that does it, my name is not “Mami,” not by any stretch of the imagination. Still walking, we have the following conversation:
Me:”Why do you want to know?”
Guy: “I just do. They call me Jason.”
Me: “Nice to meet you, Jason. Have a good night.”
Jason: “So you’re not going to tell me your name?”
Me: “No. You don’t need to know it. Only my boyfriend does.”
Jason: “Oh, you got a boyfriend? Where’s he live?”
Me: “Manhattan.”
Jason: “See? That’s on the other side of the Bridge.”
Me: “I’m a one guy type of girl.”
Jason: “How old are you?”
Me: “27.”
Jason: “You don’t look that old.”
Me: “I am. How old are you?”
Jason: “22.”
Me: “You’re too young for me. I like older men. My boyfriend is 50.”
Jason: “So you’re not going to let me walk you home?”
Me: “Not so much. Thanks, though. Night.”
Jason left to go back to his friends at this point - I checked before I headed home. I also checked that he was nowhere nearby and couldn’t see which house I went into. I tried to keep the conversation light, and he seemed like a guy who was just out hitting on the ladies that came past, but still, my mama didn’t raise no fools. I made damn sure that all windows and doors were locked before I went to bed last night, just in case - again, no fools here. I’ll be glad when I’m not on the ground floor anymore, though.
And seriously, do I even look like a “Mami”? No. I don’t. Thank you.
