What's going on with me?
New post from new house
Glory be, we have the cable internet at the new condo! It is fast and splendid and delightful! I am sure I will never leave the house again. Is incredible. At my old apartment, I was too thrifty (cheap) to pay for cable internet since I lived alone, but now that we will be splitting the bills we have made a splurge. And oh, it is worth every penny already.
The odd thing is that we still have an appointment for a cable guy to come out and “install” the internet (or whatever the parlance is) next week, but just now this Self-Install Kit arrived on the doorstep, and by some miracle E and I got it to work in, like, five minutes. So does that mean that we do not need the official guy to come out? What is the point of him, if two bumbling Amish people like ourselves can set it up? I mean really.
Also, just now E’s female friend M came over to check out our new place. The two of them had plans to go out this evening, which E made when he thought I’d be working all day. So she just stopped by and now the two of them have left, for dinner and a movie.
On the one hand, I did NOT want to go with them, because M is fine in small doses, but I have a low threshold for very self-involved people. (E is sort of a saint, and therefore can tolerate her for longer periods.) On the OTHER hand, seeing them off while I stayed behind to play on the internet, so that they could go to their very date-like dinner-and-a-movie, felt really odd. Like, “Have a good time out there, Fiancee and Other Girl! Use protection!” or something.
Not to mention that the two of them are both about six feet tall and I am 5′4″, so standing there between them while they debated where to go out felt like being the child staying home with a babysitter while the parents left for a night out.
Eh, never mind that. I have an evening all to myself in our new place, with internet and lots of fun food in the fridge! I am off to try our new Big Cheez-Its. (Have you seen these?? They are massive.) Have a good night!
7.19.2007
More of the glories of Savannah!
I just finished my last critique for my summer class and am very excited. I have until September 10 before fall term starts up, and I will be working a lot, at both the restaurant and the gallery, but at least there is no more waking up for the 8am class! Yay, an entire month and a half to work on the new house and organize things and rejuvinate. I think I may go get a pedicure today to kick (lame pun for Jennie) things off.
But last night! O, the annoyance. So, do you remember when I lived in that group house when I first moved to Savannah, and one afternoon I had my pawn shop bike locked to a wooden rung on the house’s front porch, and somebody came by with probably a sledgehammer and whacked the wooden rungs to try and break them and steal my bike? And then, just about six months ago, when I was living in that apartment building and the same pawn shop bike actually DID get stolen, from the interior hallway just outside of my apartment door? Well, check this shit out. Things DO happen in threes.
Last night some kids (apparently little kids, like age 10!) from the neighborhood came by and cut the cord of my newer pawn shop bike and our unit neighbor’s bikes, which we were temporarily keeping hitched to a column on the porch! (Yes, I know this was dumb, especially given my past experience with bikes in this town, but both she and I live on the second floor and carrying a bike up all those stairs is work.) E and I were out, and we got a phone call from this neighbor telling us that her dog had started barking (wondermutt!) so she opened her front door and scared off the kids, who had my bike in hand and were in the process of taking hers as well.
She called the police, but then she went to the next-door house, which is huge and has people sitting on the front porch, like, 24/7, to ask them if they had seen anything. The kids there said that it was kids from the street behind ours, and that they knew them. THEN, our next-door kids went back in the alley, found my bike just sitting there, and brought it back to her. Amazing! So when I got her first voicemail saying my bike had been taken, I rushed home without listening to her second message, saying she had my bike back. It was a crazy zigzag of emotions to come home thinking I had lost ANOTHER bike, talk to the neighbor for a bit and get the whole insane story, and finally learn that my bike was safe after all, just with a cut cord.
So now my bike is safely inside the house, up alllll those stairs. What is wrong with the children of Savannah??? It’s like a city of little nihilists. I am so disappointed. I mean, obviously thrilled that I still have my bike, but am I going to be riding down the street and get held up at gunpoint for it? It’s a stupid cheap bike; I don’t see why people have to act like complete animals over it.
7.15.2007
There might be a bomb in all that them hair!
Oh you guys. I just got off work, waitressing at the southern food mecca of Savannah, and I waited on a CRAZY CRAZY LADY TODAY. I mean, crazy-looking. Just about everybody we wait on there is crazy-acting.
I mean, oh the stories I could tell you. A few nights ago a man who I served a drink without a straw to (the horrors!) stopped me and said, in a very sarcastic and bitchy tone, “Ummmm. Does P—a D–n make straws?” and, playing dumb, I replied in a syrupy voice, “Why no sir, she has not yet broken into the paper products industry! But I DO have ANOTHER company’s straw right here, and can offer you one, if that’s what you would like! Would you like that? Would you like a straw?” (seriously, as if I were addressing a dog) and he meekly said yes.
It feels so good when you can be snotty to the customers but in a way that is too clever for them to actually REALIZE and call you out on. Oh man.
But oh yeah, the lady today. Have you guys seen Hairspray? (The John Waters one, not the crazy remake with John Travolta. What is WITH that?) You know how at the end Debbie Harry has the enormously tall beehive of fake platinum hair, and at one point she reaches in and pulls out a tall bomb? Well, I waited on a crazy southern lady today with that EXACT HAIR. And if that were not enough, she was so sour-tempered that her face was carried all screwed up like a Pekinese. Her mouth and nose were so close together that she looked like one big anus.
(That is awful, I know! But you should have seen it. It was.)
She was one of those people who is pissed off from the very moment you approach the table. Like, don’t be all stroppy with me from the get-go, lady. You haven’t even given me a chance to mess up yet. THEN you can be pissy and anus-faced. Until then, get over yourself.
Anus-faced beehive lady left me a $1-and-change tip. Maybe she was working out some anger over her GIANT ANUS FACE.
(I have typed the word “anus” more times in this post than in my entire life put together. Record!)
7.7.2007
Horrible slide into decrepitness
Yes, yesterday was my birthday. I am now 28, which is almost 30, which is almost dead. No no – don’t wrote me about how old you are and how I’m being an ass. I know I am being an ass. But I also know that I AM ALMOST THIRTY. GOD DAMMIT.
Also, my blog turned three a few days ago! July is a big day for births. Most of my family members’ birthdays occur in July.
So, my dad forgot my birthday. I mean, he told me a week ago that he’d be travelling yesterday and today, driving with my stepmom to visit my stepsister in Texas. When he said they’d be leaving Friday, I didn’t say anything like, “Oh, on my birthday,” and he didn’t mention it either, but I assumed that he knew, and that he’d call! I mean, geez. One year my mom forgot until the evening and then called around dinnertime, which I thought was bad, but now it’s, like, a day AFTER my birthday and he has not called.
I seriously have birthday shame/anger dating back as long as I can remember. Having my birthday on July 6 meant that, as a kid, most of the people I’d invite to my parties would be out of town for a long weekend holiday. Or they’d just forget in all the shuffle of camping and fishing and eating apple pie and whatever else we USA-ians are supposed to do throughout July. So I would always have crappy tiny parties filled out with backup friends. Also when your birthday falls outside of the school year, you don’t get any recognition by your teacher. No day to bring in your mom’s cookies or cupcakes and have everybody talk about you for a day. Obviously having a July birthday is nowhere near as sad as having one right around Christmas, but it is still sort of crappy.
In addition, I tend to get bent out of shape in that I make a really big effort to write down all my friends’ birthdays on my little day calendar and contact them accordingly, and I feel like even my oldest, YEARS-LONG friends do not contact me unless I point out to them ahead of time that mine is coming up. It just makes me sad, like I care about other people more then they care about me, and they I get all depression-spiral about it. Which is lame. Why should I be so considerate to people, year in and year out?
(Also I might have answered my own question, because nobody wants to hang out with a Debbie Downer. Perhaps this is why nobody calls.)
On an up note, the moving-in is still coming along. Here are a couple of photos!
Here is the view when you get to the top of the stairs – it is the living room with bay windows, looking out onto the balcony.
And here is the first bedroom, which is just off the living room. Note non-functional fireplaces in both rooms! I do not know why houses in south Georgia would need fireplaces in the first place, but by god, we’ve got three of them!
E was very good to me on my birthday. We went to Target and bought lots of crap with my new gift cards, and in the evening we hosted some friends over for the first time. We used our new Target stemless wine glasses and it was very chic. I expect a write-up will appear in the New York Times Style section. Also we went downtown to the new dessert/martini bar and had chocolate fondue for two. He knows me well!
Have a great Sunday, y’all.