I'm throwing away more stuff than most people own. It's really quite astonishing how much stuff is in this place. When you're thinking of my moving, you're probably thinking of an ordinary apartment. Mine is full of the stuff of five people and being a very spacious place--I may never have the likes of this again!--was quite accomodating. I don't really have time to go through it, but it's hard to throw away things when you're not sure if there's something valuable there or not. I just keep telling myself I can live without it. Gone are the flower vases, shoes, clothes, toys, pens, lamps, VCR, stereo... gone gone gone. Bags and bags and bags, gone.
December 2005 Archives
I'm throwing everything away today.
If I can stand to live without it, if I anticipate being able to afford to replace it in the future, if it can POSSIBLY be thrown away, it's going.
I'm home. In my old home. Finally. I can't stand it here. It's old and stale and full of poltergeist memories. Filthy, filthy, haunted place.
Getting Mr. Shapely taken care of is more trouble than I'd have thought. It's eating up my day and I have real work to do, for once! I'm on hold with the cat's former vet, awaiting release of his records, pending the former owner's approval. Everyone seems to think it's just fleas (with possible allergic or other "bad" reaction to fleas, as he's quite miserable and tracking blood about), so I'm not quite as worried as I was. Initial plan was to have him cleaned up--his fur's become quite the mess and he's shedding (alleged) flea dirt everywhere. However, the groomer can't groom him without proof of current vaccinations. To get that, I called Richard, who gave me the cat, but he didn't know the name of the vet... and on it goes. What a long ordeal. (Don't ask me where he got fleas, or how he only just suddenly got so sick. He's never been outdoors, and he's been in the hotel room with me for the past six weeks.)
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It turns out that Richard's ex-wife's name is the only one on the veterinary records. They can't be released unless I can get Richard to call her and convince her to call their office.
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In the end, I will have to wait another day or two to see if I can obtain Mr. Shapely's records before being able to have anything done, whether groomed or seen by a local vet, whom I've at least spoken to and been counseled by. Gah. Poor, miserable, pitifully-mewing, incessant scratching, bleeding, matted fur, pink and puffy-eyed little kitty!
There's something wrong with Mr. Shapely! I'm so worried! I have to find a way to get him to a vet! (I have to *find* a vet!)
He seems so miserable. Poor thing.
I HAVE A CUBICLE! I have a cubicle, I have a cubicle, I have a cubicle! And it's all mine, and I got to pick it, and I contend it's the best of the cubicles. It's brand new, too. My own cubicle!
So I'm sitting at my own cubicle in my office (Did you hear that? My office!) with my PowerBook G4 and my own printer, sipping our top-of-the-line state-of-the-art coffee which is delicious, and I'm doing my timesheets which looks like I may be getting quite a chunk of money in in time for Christmas, maybe... and I'll be going home soon... and I look good today, too--yes, I say so myself--stylish and professional and pretty... I got a full night's sleep, had my timesheet and receipts ready to go when they were due, made it to work on time, easily, as I have every day now since we re-implemented my personal 7:30am arrival requirement, and bless whoever runs coincidences but it is even cold today. Could I be happier?
The Ultimate For-Real Christmas List
for those who have asked
not that I'm still asking for gifts, but more for fun:
Note: I can't really say which of these--of everything listed--is more important than the others. Something that seems to have gotten more attention in my list wouldn't bring me any more thrill than something I briefly mentioned, such as pajamas. Really, I've got to be the absolute easiest person in the whole world to buy for. I get excited over every gift. Really. Like a little kid, but more appreciative. I'm so excited just thinking about Christmas!!
--To see Iron & Wine this year!
--Every single Bright Eyes album EVER! I really mean it! (Other CDs, too)
--Cookie Monster!
--My god, I'm in love! I think particularly, I want...(See Extended Entry)
--Flavia desk calendar
--Candles (forever on my list; any other sort of candle will suffice, too)
--Chocolates (I've been wanting these for many years now, but will accept other varieties of chocolate)
--Soap(this brand only)
--Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey
--Deeper Thoughts by Jack Handey
--Deepest Thoughts by Jack Handey
--Lost Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey
--Fuzzy Memories by Jack Handey
--Anything having to do with Mitch Hedberg or Andy Kaufman
--Stovetop espresso maker
--Burt's Bees products
--Teavana has a sushi set that matches my plates, which looks like this. (And my plate set needs to be doubled, so I suppose I need more pieces of it before it becomes nonexistant.)
--...which reminds me that I want some of their Mate teas. I believe I sampled a MateVana and Almondina Biscotti mix that was divine. I could certainly drink that everyday!
--...and that's where I bought my tea cups (bad picture), which are need of a reasonably matching teapot
--Perpetually on my list: Candles, chocolate, wine and wine-related things, books!, bellydance stuff, things that come from other countries (for example, such items as you'd find at World Market), things that smell good (incense, room sprays, potpourri, etc.), athletic/yoga/lounge attire, bras and panties, socks!, pajamas!, shoes, non-expensive jewelry, coffee, tea, Dean & Deluca type items, clothes, makeup, bath products, and gift sets!
I think this is the longest list I've ever compiled in my whole life. I don't like being so materialistic, so thanks a lot, ye who have asked! Look what you've done!
Friday evening, as coworkers discussed their plans, C. and L. had each other, L. was preparing to spend a weekend at Epcot with a friend who'd flown in, and C. was eagerly awaiting a weekend with his wife who was driving in, I felt very lonely and fifth-wheel-ish. True, as Someone in New York pointed out, my past several weeks were jam-packed with goodness between his time here and the kids', and I do appreciate that, but it only served as contrast to this weekend. I was afraid of it; it appeared to be a big black hole I had to wade through alone to get back to Monday. I promised my friend that I'd try harder to cheer up and I'd do at least one thing fun. I'm glad I did.
In fulfillment I went to the movies, and it was utterly delightful. I browsed an art shop, people shopped, and then, being of good spirits, decided to treat myself to dinner at the Olive Garden (it was close to the hotel): salad, breadsticks, Ravioli di Portabello, wine and dessert. I was going to go back out after that to Howl at the Moon, but I ended up Christmas shopping, chatting, watching a movie, and reading a book instead.
I've yet another day to spend today. It's true I could've gone out with someone this weekend--I've had four offers--but I think I'd rather not. I'm Christmas shopping from my computer, drinking hot chocolate with whipped cream, and listening to Christmas music. After this, who knows? I can do as I please!
I'm going out right now without a coat, in a short sleeved tee, just to spite all of you who keep telling me about all your snow. Darn you.
I've lamented to a friend that I don't fit in here, and Someone in New York and I have talked at length about what I perceive as differences between the upper and lower classes, the former being more his realm and the latter mine. While I am still amazed at the differences (all the while adopting some of the behaviors of the wealthy) I eventually realized I do indeed fit in here.
Okay, I'm hugely different, given my background. However, I fit in here far more than I did with the class of coworkers I had at my last job. I don't know how to describe them but to say they're lower class. I never had much to say to them, although we got along just fine. While my prior coworkers were known to sit around their trailers drinking beer (or alternately, be involved with their little local churches) and to go frog gigging, my new coworkers talk of global travel, five course dinners, and wine. Now, I've heard my new coworkers talk about beer, too, but only in how European beer differs from American, and why even our imported beer won't compare to what they've had overseas.
Mind you, the person who went frog gigging was the first I'd ever heard of such activities in Missouri, so it's far from representative, but you get the point. I don't know that I entirely fit with either group; I have characteristics in common with both. At least now, however, I am not the only one who enjoys wine, fine foods or ethnic flavors, theater or travel. These people are all educated, intelligent, well-spoken and well-written with good social skills, and my former coworkers were not so much so. I would love to capture what they were like but fear it will come out in such a way that the reader would look down on them. Since I come from an entire line of common folk such as these, I happen to know they indeed have value and are as likely to be intelligent as the next group, even without fancy educations. Would you see that, though? They are unique, though. I should strive to capture them: the workers of the kitchen staff at the nursing home--where I was, and where I am now.
I've lamented to a friend that I don't fit in here, and Someone in New York and I have talked at length about what I perceive as differences between the upper and lower classes, the former being more his realm and the latter mine. While I am still amazed at the differences (all the while adopting some of the behaviors of the wealthy) I eventually realized I do indeed fit in here.
Okay, I'm hugely different, given my background. However, I fit in here far more than I did with the class of coworkers I had at my last job. I don't know how to describe them but to say they're lower class. I never had much to say to them, although we got along just fine. While my prior coworkers were known to sit around their trailers drinking beer (or alternately, be involved with their little local churches) and to go frog gigging, my new coworkers talk of global travel, five course dinners, and wine. Now, I've heard my new coworkers talk about beer, too, but only in how European beer differs from American, and why even our imported beer won't compare to what they've had overseas.
Mind you, the person who went frog gigging was the first I'd ever heard of such activities in Missouri, so it's far from representative, but you get the point. I don't know that I entirely fit with either group; I have characteristics in common with both. At least now, however, I am not the only one who enjoys wine, fine foods or ethnic flavors, theater or travel. These people are all educated, intelligent, well-spoken and well-written with good social skills, and my former coworkers were not so much so. I would love to capture what they were like but fear it will come out in such a way that the reader would look down on them. Since I come from an entire line of common folk such as these, I happen to know they indeed have value and are as likely to be intelligent as the next group, even without fancy educations. Would you see that, though? They are unique, though. I should strive to capture them: the workers of the kitchen staff at the nursing home--where I was, and where I am now.
I've been reading through old blog entries, amazed at what I've been through and how I've changed. Awful of me to be so fascinated by my own story, but most of it had been forgotten, and somehow I need the validation that I am capable, that I am strong, that I am growing.
I haven't been writing here much anymore, and was lamenting that my story is over. "I don't have anything interesting to write," I remarked to a friend. "Everything is just okay now." I've had an epiphany, though, reading through my blog. I've always written about my struggles, internal and external, and while most of my external struggles have been removed, internal ones remain. Plus won't it be something to see if I handle my latest relationship with Someone in New York better than I handled things with the guy in Texas (Him) or TNG?
I will resume writing. There is indeed more to say.
Maybe this or this or this? Or would one of these other 59 be better? Something funky? Metallic leather? What's that? Is it really chic? I like chic. Opinions? I guess I need something I can attach to my self. I don't want to have to carry it or stuff it in my pocket all the time. Yay for options!
