As I was getting ready to get into the shower this evening, I opened up my medicine cabinet and something fell out. I bent over to pick it up, burning my bare ass on the radiator behind me, and then ramming the back of my head into the door of the medicine cabinet when I stood back up.
Happy Friday.
I totally stole the subject of this post from the excellent Read Roger. It’s an oft-made point, though, that blogging is a self-serving exercise, especially for those of us who blog for such a small audience. I justify the solipsism because it’s a nice way for me to keep in touch with friends, and it’s a way for me to get ideas onto “paper” that I think might someday, with a lot of work, be essay-worthy.
This post, however, is just here because I need to bitch. Feel free to stop reading now.
I keep reading that everybody is having a bad week. Is it the four-winter-storms-in-ten-days? The pervasive white haze? The pre-holiday stress? Even the little things are pissing me off. Like my computer mouse. My old one broke—it moved up and down, barely, but didn’t move side-to-side at all, making navigation damn near impossible—so I ordered a cordless mouse off eBay. It arrived promptly, and when I set it up… nothing. Didn’t work. I bought new batteries for it, and it solved the problem immediately! Works like a dream! Well, a bad dream. The clickers don’t work consistently—sometimes it takes a triple-click to do the work of a double-click, and a double-click for a single click, but not always. As a result, I’m constantly clicking links that I didn’t mean to, or I’m clicking four times in a row to follow one link. I’m doing a lot of freelance work right now that requires considerable web-surfing, so this makes me crazy for a couple hours every night. I don’t want to keep spending money on mouses (mice?), but this is freakin’ ridiculous.
Normally I wouldn’t post about something so personal, but I don’t think I can bitch about this enough. I’ve been dating a guy for the last month or so, and things were going well (I thought). Exactly one-and-a-half hours after a lovely brunch together on Sunday, he broke things off with me. IN A FUCKING EMAIL. Who does that? It was three sentences long, if you count the last sentence: “Sorry!” I’m not quite nasty enough to post the whole thing here, but am nasty enough to invite you to mock his tactlessness in the comments. I mean, he lives half a mile from me, and he broke up with me in an email. Or join me in the bitching, relieve some holiday stress, and leave your own shitty breakup stories! I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know about this blog, but if he’s reading this: for future reference, please don’t break up with girls over email. It’s not nice.
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current book: I have so many New Yorkers piled up right now…
current music: Bloc Party and Saturday Looks Good To Me. I can’t remember the album names, and it would require doing battle with my mouse in order to find them online.
current socks: Dark blue with light blue polka dots.
I spent most of my Saturday moving from nap to nap, something that the kitties enjoy immensely. This makes me feel sort of less pathetic—like, I’m not napping! I’m spending quality snuggle time with my cats! My lazy Saturday means that I will now be getting up early to run eight miles tomorrow, which I think is excellent penance for staying in my pajamas all day today. I also found out on Friday that I have Monday off for Veteran’s Day, so at least I won’t feel like my entire weekend has to be crammed into tomorrow.
Speaking of running, I just started training for another half-marathon. I’m training for a race in Austin in late January (Mark, are you in?) which should be a lot of fun—with only about 4,000 other runners, it will be the smallest race I’ve run (by about 30,000 people!), and I’m really looking forward to being able to cross the start line in under 20 minutes. It also supposedly features “net elevation loss,” which is a convoluted way of saying “mostly downhill.” Also, the average high in Austin on January 27 is 61 degrees, a good 20 degrees warmer than it will be in Chicago. The Weather Channel claims the average high in Chicago on January 27 is 43; I remember it being more like 3, but maybe that was early February.
And now I am going to cap off my perfectly lazy Saturday by attempting to set up the DVD player and watch Bridget Jones’ Diary. I say “attempt” because it involves dealing with two gallon-sized plastic baggies filled with at least four different colors of wire, an amplifier, the TV, and the DVD player itself. I normally do okay at this sort of thing, but the sheer volume of wire is overwhelming. Wish me luck.
* * *
current book: Rereading Tony Horwitz’s brilliant and funny Baghdad Without a Map. If you haven’t read it, do so immediately.
current music: Going to see Band of Horses at the Metro on Monday night.
current socks: Um, my white fuzzy slippers. I told you I was being lazy.
I had an early doctor’s appointment this morning, and my doctor wanted me to have some blood work done. As the technician was preparing everything, I asked her if she had any fun band-aids.
Tech: No, but we should, huh? For people with a sense of humor?
Me: Totally. You really need some Batman or Superman band-aids or something.
The tech yells across the room to the other lab technician: Hey John, we need some Batman bandaids.
John, who hasn’t heard our conversation, but doesn’t miss a beat: Aw, man. I know we do.
Almost. In the ongoing saga of Things Going Wrong, and in the spirit of using my blog to bitch unreservedly about my personal life, I add the following complaints:
I’ve been in my new apartment for three days now. Considering that just about everything leading up to this move went wrong, I’m just glad it’s over. I spent waaaaay more money than I’d wanted to; one bookshelf plunged to its death from the third floor balcony into the alley; the movers were an hour and a half late; the apartment wasn’t the one I thought it would be… but it’s done. The cats adjusted almost immediately, although they are a little suspicious of their new self-cleaning litterbox (not so much that they aren’t using it, thank GOD). It will take me longer to adjust: I now have access to all kinds of restaurants and cafes and public transportation options (options!!), which is a kind of muted culture shock. I have no central air, no washer/dryer, no nice kitchen, and that will all take a little time to adjust to. The windows are open all the time and the kitties loooooove the fresh air (I do too, but I do miss the a/c in the middle of the day). I’m a little nervous that they’ll rip open the screens to get at the pigeons who come to the window to taunt them, though.
I’ve gotten enough unpacked that I can live–the bathroom and bedroom are in functioning order, and the living room and kitchen are unpacked just enough–and it’s probably going to stay like this for a few more weeks, I’m afraid. Work is going to be really busy the next few weeks, and then I’ll be in Panama a week, and then I’ll be home for two weeks before I run the Chicago Marathon. I’ll resurface again sometime mid-October, perhaps…
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current book: Just a few pages left in Museum, and then I’ve got to write that book review on it… like, yesterday.
current music: My stereo system and CDs are in boxes, as is my home computer/iTunes (I’m writing on my work laptop right now).
current socks: Barefoot, which is kinda gross since my new floors realllly need to be mopped.
I scheduled movers several weeks ago. Problem is, they didn’t schedule me. I found this out today when I called to confirm. I’m moving this Friday, by the way. They were able to offer me movers, but their trucks are booked all day.
So I started calling U-Hauls. Found a 10′ truck nearby—it’s almost certainly going to be too small, but it was all they had—and reserved it for this Friday. They require an Illinois driver’s license, which I don’t have. They’d accept my Indiana license if I had proof of being a student, but my U of C ID card was lost on the plane back from Factorytourpalooza. Called other U-Hauls, but there aren’t any trucks available.
Also, the moving company charges a helluva lot more if you don’t also reserve their truck—am working on negotiating this, since that part is obviously their fault—plus actually renting my own truck is going to cost a small fortune, since they charge a buck a mile, and I’ll be going from one end of Chicago to the other and then back again to return the truck. It will quite possibly take more than one trip, did I mention that? That the truck is too fucking small?
I had to get all of this down in writing because it seems unbelievable even to me. U-Haul will accept me as the secondary driver if I can bring somebody in with an Illinois driver’s license. My one friend who lives on the same side of town and who has an Illinois driver’s license is going to be out of town this Friday, and of course U-Haul won’t let me bring her in ahead of time to fill out the paperwork. NO OTHER U-HAUL has this stupid fucking policy, but apparently people on the South Side run off with their trucks all the time. Seriously? People steal U-Hauls? Because a) that would seem to be a highly visible and easily trackable theft, and b) you would spend bazillions of dollars in gas on the thing, although maybe they steal that too.
I’m getting ready to call other truck rental companies, but I assume it’s going to be damn near impossible to find a truck for August 31. Does anybody have any suggestions? Negotiating strategies? Baseball bats?
Also, if you have an Illinois driver’s license and some availability around 10am this Friday, please let me know. I will make you punkin chocolate chip muffins every week for the next six months, I swear.
I got on the elevator this evening after work with two guys, one of whom works in my office, one of whom works in the other office on our floor. But that doesn’t really matter, so I’ll call them Guy #1 and Guy #2.
Guy #2 strikes up a conversation with Guy #1 and myself about the weather, which is indeed conversation-with-strangers worthy. (See: any news source for details of tornado warnings and flash floods and massive public transit delays). Guy #1 is rather nonchalant. He is playing with his iPhone, so I can’t really blame him for being more interested in it than the weather.
We all get on the elevator. At this point, I’m close enough to drool over the iPhone, so I acknowledge that fact with an, “Mmmm. Is that an iPhone? It’s prettttty.” Guy #1 nods. I mean, duh, of course it’s pretty.
Guy #2 suddenly looks interested. Guy #1 obliges us and shows off some fancy fingerwork that results in, seriously, magic. Pictures of his basset hound! In portrait! In landscape! Email! More pictures! Sweet jesus, I want one.
Guy #2 says, “So what’s it called?”
Guy #1: “An iPhone.”
Guy #2: “How much does one of those things cost?”
Guy #1: “About $400. And look, it’s the best camera you’ll get on a phone.” [more fancy fingerwork ensues on his part; more drooling on my part]
Guy #2: “Huh. Who makes that?”
[The sound of my head hitting the elevator door.]
* * *
current book: Had to re-purchase Museum today. Am hoping I can either return the more pristine of my copies or perhaps gift it. But I looked through many, many boxes and couldn’t find it. I’m sure it’s on the bottom layer of a box on the bottom of the stack.
current music: The sound of heavy rain, thunder, and lightning. It’s a monsoon out there.
current socks: Thankfully I had flip-flops with me today. Socks are no good in ankle-high puddles.
I spent a long weekend in Fort Collins, Colorado, visiting my awesome vet-in-training friend, Miles. I rarely get to see her, and although we were both a little stressed (me: upcoming work deadlines, her: upcoming school deadlines), we managed to pack in the factory tours.
A little history. Many years ago, I found myself living with my parents in Carmel, Indiana, a snooty suburb of Indianapolis. I knew nobody. Due to a number of circumstances, I had to spend nearly all my time at home. No job possibilities, no car—as though it mattered, since I could barely find my way out of the neighborhood. Dark days. Very dark days.
And so I wrote Miles a letter and gave her a top ten list of reasons why she needed to come visit. I can’t remember what any of them were, but given my doomed plight in Indiana and my propensity for hyperbole, I’m sure they were quite persuasive. At any rate, she came.
But, Miles being Miles, she couldn’t just drive up from St. Louis to cheer me up. No, Miles prepares for these things. She went to the library and got a guidebook—Indiana: Off the Beaten Path. In it, she found a hidden gem: the Sechler Pickle Factory in St. Joe, Indiana.
And so it began. (The story of Sechler’s will have to wait for another blog post, but it’s near Fort Wayne, Indiana, and absolutely worth the drive, no matter where you live. Check out www.gourmetpickles.com, plan your trip, and get ready to try nearly 40 varieties of pickles!). Ever since the day when we gritted our teeth and forced apple cinnamon pickles down our throats, we’ve gone on as many factory tours as we can—our list includes the Anheuser-Busch Brewery, a shoelace factory, and a pizza farm.
So when I hit Denver early last Thursday morning, I was ready. Miles had a full itinerary: the U.S. Mint, Hammond’s Candies, and the Great Divide Brewing Company. And this was just the first day! Hammond’s Candies was probably my favorite of the day—a little quirky and a lot of fun. We learned, for instance, that it takes anywhere from six months to two years to become a candymaker! Simple hard candies are the easiest to make, but it takes a long time to learn how to make the candies with the shapes in the center. On Friday, we drove to Boulder for a tour of the Celestial Seasonings factory, and Saturday, we hit the Haystack Mountain Goat Dairy in Niwot, Colorado, and the New Belgium Brewery in Fort Collins. New Belgium actually clocks in as one of the best tours I’ve been on—Bernie, our tour guide, clearly loves what he does, and he talked more about the philosophy and ideology behind New Belgium than how to make good beer. Turns out that N.B. has been a green company from the beginning—they’ve been wind-powered since the late 90s, and they’ve implemented a lot of cost- and energy-saving measures in the beer-making process. And Bernie let us go down the employee slide, which is probably the most fun I’ve had on a factory tour!
I’ll try to post more detailed write-ups on our factory tour adventures over the next week. However, I am insanely busy at work, am pet-sitting for a friend, am writing a book review for an online literary magazine, and, oh yeah, I’m getting ready to move. So if you don’t hear from me for awhile, check out my Flickr set of the trip, which I trust you will all find highly amusing.
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current book: Supposedly still Museum, on accounta having a book review on it due September 1, but I think my mom packed it in her enthusiasm to help get me ready to move. Shit.
current music: Lots of 80s tunes on the road with Miles.
current socks: Black with various cocktail drinks on them. They are my wishful thinking socks. Oh how I need a cocktail right now!
With much thanks to my friend Harriett, and also to Dr. Seuss, whose characters appear all over the card:
It’s Your Day to Make Some Noise!
Today’s the day!
It’s finally here!
Don’t be bashful!
Give a cheer!
(Just because you’re older now, don’t pretend you don’t know how!)
ZANG a cymbal!
BLOOT a horn!
Celebrate that you were born!
It’s your day!
No time for pouting!
Don’t just sit there!
Do some shouting!
Toot a TOOZLER!
Twang a ZONG!
Sing a made-up birthday song!
YIP and YELL from here to Boise.
It’s your birthday!
Let’s get noisy!
* * *
I plan to toot toozlers and twang zongs the rest of the weekend, personally. I do wonder, though, why “YIP and YELL from here to Boise” didn’t deserve an exclamation point?
chicagoista
