Looking Ahead

It occurs to me that I haven’t really been in charge of my life for a while. I’ve been living day to day, mostly stagnant, with no real plans. I have things I want to do and places that I want to go, but I’ve not put forth any effort in getting there. Also, I’ve been railing against the boy for his seeming lack of planning and goals.

All this is starting to change. As I walked across the people-bridge to get to my department, looking at the sun, it finally hit me: start planning, girl! The only person who can make me happy is me. I don’t know how I’ve managed to miss this obvious fact, especially considering that my mantra as of late is, “I better do this (insert random chore here), because I don’t see anyone else racing over to do it for me.”

So here we go: By the time 2013 ends, the following will be either accomplished or in the works (I chose 2013 because that’s when I’ll have my five years of practicing law done and can more readily move without having to take the bar again (in some states); also, I’ll be forty that year):

1. I will be married.
2. If I am not married, I will use the money I’ve been putting away to build our lives together and will instead use it as a down payment on a gorgeous brownstone in the District.
3. I will go to Wimbledon with my brother to celebrate my fortieth – we’re both tennis buffs.
4. I will make a final decision about having children. If I’m going to do it solo, I will get on it already.
5. I will have completely quit smoking – hopefully that will happen WELL BEFORE 2013.
6. I will have made myself a priority – remembering to take care of me before I take care of others.

I think that’s about all for now. The list may grow. But if I don’t get started with the plan, I will (still) get older and turn bitter and be stuck in this town. There’s nothing wrong with this place per se, but it’s so easy to get complacent here and never achieve anything I planned to do.

Just writing this list - well, honestly, thinking about it as I walked in – makes me feel better. I have felt powerless and angry for so long, and it’s eating away not only at me but at my relationships as well. I can’t dream away my worries, but I can remember that there is an endgame and that I’m on my way there.

Email Conversation

I believe I've posted before a letter to my landlord.  Since then, there's been a lot of stupid messes, but some hope!  One of my coworkers used to live where I do and had the same problems that I've been having.  So here's the email exchange:

From: Coworker
Sent: Friday, March 26, 2010 5:08 PM
To: Christine
Subject: FW: Final Bill Calculation

Oh well, I lost.

It sure took her long enough to say what she always knew she was going to say anyway. I shall bite my tongue and accept my losses.

10% for the office’s water use? Come on!!

From: Christine
Sent: Tuesday, March 30, 2010 8:08 AM
To: Coworker
Subject: RE: Final Bill Calculation

I didn’t even know that there was a car wash. Good to know I’m paying for it.

From: Coworker
Sent: Tuesday, March 30, 2010 9:55 AM
To: Christine
Subject: RE: Final Bill Calculation

Well it depends upon your definition of car wash. There’s a shed with a plain hose or two and a vacuum I believe you have to pay a dollar to use. It looked a bit run down and like it wasn’t being used much anymore. I took one look at it and said no thanks. I never used it.

I also never used the laundry. I never used the pool, volleyball court, etc. I only went to the gym once, but when I saw that guys kept sticking their head in to see who was on the girls side and that one guy showed up not even dressed to work out or swim and just wandered around, I didn’t go back. I took a cookie for the first time right after I turned in my keys. I felt they owed me at least that.

Local Attorney said the best way to get even is to tell everyone you know how bad they are. I have stepped up warning people away from there. Local Attorney says he’s going to bad mouth them too.

From: Christine
Sent: Tuesday, March 30, 2010 10:42 AM
To: Coworker
Subject: RE: Final Bill Calculation

I wouldn’t know the car wash if I saw it, I bet. I did use the laundry for a time, until it was so overrun with ants and the other “people” who used it would just not pay attention to their laundry loads and it got very expensive after an “upgrade”. I’ve never used the pool either, as I have a tendency to not ever get into a swimsuit. I mean, what woman over 30 really needs that kind of pain? I have used the gym some, but I’m always very careful to keep the door closed when I’m in there. Plus, I used it more when I wasn’t working so I rarely saw anyone there. When I come home after work now, I see people loitering. I’d complain, but we’ve seen where that gets us.

Another thing to add to your list is that it now appears that they’re allowing excess tenants to live in the apartments. I realize that with a 3-bedroom, that means there could be up to 6 adults living there. I don’t think that’s the case though; I think there’s a lot of consolidation. This means that parking is at a premium and at some point there’s going to be some serious issues.

Overall, I’m just tired of not actually getting an answer to any of my concerns. I’m trying not to let it get to me too much; however, my rent bill is sitting next to me and just knowing that is raising my blood pressure. I find it absolutely ridiculous to have to pay – ready for this? $876.99 to live there.

And yet I just called to ask – again – to be added to the Cook’s list, as I live on the bottom floor and the spiders are out again. What with the rain and the new landscaping outside my window, of course it’s to be expected and I would anticipate better service from them.

Sorry to rant. It’s so good to have someone to kvetch with – it makes this seem more tolerable.

Christine

Poor baby

Yesterday was the boy's birthday, so let's all be happy for him!  He's 39 and has currently decided to let his hair grow in naturally.  Let me just tell you how much it's odd for him to see to silver in his hair.  I happen to love it, but I do understand.

I've been dying my hair for years!  Fortunately, those years when I didn't color my hair (law school sucks!) I didn't see any grey.  OK, OK, one or two, but nothing that freaked me out.

He was supposed to have cocktails with friends, see a show, and then visit his friend's (I think) art show.  None of this worked out, and I feel so badly for him.  As much as I hate being away from him (and as jealous I get) I wanted him to have a fabulous night.  He deserves it.

Tonight he's out with an old friend and I hope they're having a ball!  I'm in and gearing up for Cita's husband's going-away party.  I do intend to give him a little tchotchke for his journey through Iraq.  My hope is that he'll be able to send photos home showing where the mini-mummy (shhh!) goes and then return it when he gets home.

I'm working on getting all the photos for my birthday gifts and writing all about it.  Until then, know this - it was a great day.

OK, here's one photo:

Just a beginning.  The boy infused an olive oil for me specifically, and also sent two amazing cookbooks and a jalapeno sauce, of which I was initially afraid but learned to love.

Cita's husband is headed for Iraq next week, and I hope that you will do whatever it is you do to wish him well.  They're an amazing couple.  I want him to get home safely and SOON! and then do his husbandly duty.

More soon.

Happy Birthday + 580th Post!

Tomorrow I will be older than I ever intended to be.  Sweet Christmas, I'm getting closer to forty than I ever intended.

It's been a tough go, but because tomorrow is my favorite holiday, I intend to enjoy the hell out of it.  I might post (with photos!) what I get for my birthday, but I can't be sure.  I had to enlist Date to help me get out of my car what my parents got for me.  I don't know what it is yet, but Momma told me that they had to remove the box to get it into their (bigger) car, and that I would need help to remove and buid.

Awesome!

Aside:  Biggs is now on antibiotics and probiotics.  How much do you think they will cancel each other out?  I mean, really.

Ah, My Sister...

Last night I got flowers. FLOWERS! I love flowers. I love getting flowers. Doesn't matter who they're from, so long as they're pretty, pretty flowers!

I took a picture of them to send to my sister, who was the sender, and to the boy, as a hint as subtle as a ton of bricks:

Aren't they pretty?  Apologies for the crappy quailty of the image - I really do need to get a new phone.  Anyway, this morning I got three texts from my sister, explaining that the flowers were supposed to be sent today and that she's sending a replacement bouquet.  (The third text was blank.  Yeah, I got nothing either.)

She really doesn't need to send more flowers, but I will gladly accept them.  My mantle will be even cheerier, and I'll be more excited about Tuesday.  (Ugh, 37...how did that happen?)

Poor Biggs

When I got home from work yesterday, I saw that Biggs had gotten sick on the exact part of the sofa where I sit. I told him that I didn't feel so badly about taking him to the vet today.

Famous last words.

My vet, Doc, weighed him, checked out his little body to see if something was obvious, and then told me that there was nothing obvious, but that he needed a urine and blood sample.

Sure, I told Doc.

Doc used a needle to tap Biggs' bladder, and then did something much worse. I always figured that a blood sample would come from a lesser vein. Biggs took a needle into the artery in his neck. I'd never heard Biggs meowl like that. Once Doc pulled out the needle, he realized that he needed more blood.

Doc took blood from the same place in Biggs' neck that he did initially. Holy Cracker, did Biggs object. I had to turn away - I knew it was for the best, but that sound, oh, that sound, was almost more than a girl could take.

Next, Doc gave Biggs a shot containing antibiotics, anti-inflamatories, and some Vitamin B.

My poor baby, who hates being in the car, was quite strong. Once we got home, he had some food, and then collapsed in front of his food bowl. I'd never seen him do that before, and honestly, the last time I'd seen such a reaction is when my Boo died.

I was terrified. But now Biggs seems better. He ate the treats I promised him, and we'll know more Monday when his test results come back.

This is the closest I've ever been to a parent, and I cannot imagine the difference.

Please, keep whatever you've got crossed for the amazing creature I've had the privilege to know for fourteen years.

Please.

Lessons Learned

After I complained about my coworker, I found that there were things I didn't know about her.

Tuesday night, quite late, I awoke to find that Biggs was making that extra-swallow sound, the kind that means that something's about to happen. He jumped off the bed and started hacking. I got him into the bathroom as quickly as I could. (You know it's easier to clean yack off of linoleum than it is the carpet.)

He threw up, and there were flecks of blood in it, and at that moment, I knew I wouldn't sleep any more that night.

The next day was just as tough, and as I did research on the internet (stay off the internet!) I started to cry.

People, I am not a crier. I rarely cry, and if I do, I rarely let anyone see me do it. But I couldn't stop myself, so I called my coworker into a conference room and just let go.

She was so sweet; she pet my hair, let me cry, and she did the most important thing. She didn't tell me it was all going to be OK. And there were no apologies. She let me leave early so I could keep an eye on Biggs. How amazing is that? She let me have her strength when I had none.

Later that night, the boy told me that he lost his wallet. This frustrates me, because I have such strong habits that I rarely lose anything. I wasn't as understanding as I could have been because I get frustrated with his frailties.

Tonight, when I was checking out at Target, I realized that not only did I not have my ID, I didn't have my debit card. Luckily, the cashier knew me and let it go, and I was able to pay with a credit card.

I mean, really. How much clearer could those lessons be? I'm just as human as everyone else is, and I'm grateful for it. Do me a favor and remind me that I'm not in control of everything, and there is help available when I need it.

I'm Sorry

Today I was going to try to write about my opinion of the original No Child Left Behind act and my thoughts on the potential new version, but I just finished eating lunch, had massive food coma, and had to pass out on my desk for five minutes.

That right there's a job-keeping tip you can take to the bank.

Instead - one of my coworkers has a habit of apologizing. Often. For anything. ANY LITTLE THING. For a short period of time, I picked it up. It took the boy about three short conversations and one thinly veiled threat to get me to fix that. But I wonder why she does it. It makes me want to meet some of her siblings to see if they do the same thing. But if they do, I can't guarantee that I wouldn't freak out.

Tomorrow, for fun, I think I'm going to try to keep count of how many times she apologizes versus how long I speak with her. This will be a tricky subterfuge as she's quite observant, but I think I can make it happen. Once I've got the data, I'll share it with you, and I want your opinion.

C'mon now, you can comment anonymously. Or maybe I need to get a Vizu poll? Then would you guys interact with me?

(Yeah, I'm not above begging. Just ask the...)

Dumb Things I’ve Done Today

After waking from a far-too-short six hours of sleep, I turned on my exceedingly bright lamp and stretched. While I was hoping that it was Saturday, I realized that there were strange noises outside. Something was clacking against my window. After another minute, I recognized the lovely sound of hail. Oh, hail, you’re going to make my commute so wonderful…WAIT! ALERT!! Window, hail, hmmm…. That’s when it occurred to me that I had left the window in the guest room open all night.

I read an article on Slate about the taste of whale meat. In it, the author mentions that chicken and fish meat are still healthier choices than mammals. Wanna guess what I did? I forgot that chickens are not mammals and had to Google it. The very short explanation I found seemed to rolling its eyes at me as I read it.

Aside: The stairwell at work smelled like Pez today, and now I really, really want some Pez. Actually, I always want Pez, but I tend to forget how much I love it because I don’t see Pezzes too often.

Another aside: How freaking adorable are these? I want them.

Probably Not The Best Idea

Really, folks, dear, gentle readers, I've been far too influenced by Dooce and the episode of House that I'm only halfway through. (Thanks, TiVo!)

I have to tell you about my quite bizarre sense of humor. I love pop music, inappropriate jokes, and lack of earnestness. It's what I do.

So maybe things are going to change around here. I mean, what do I have to lose? Aside from all my friends, my license to practice, and any sense of decency.

Does decency even matter anymore? I ask because I'm quite tempted to move this whole blog over to a real server, one where I can make random comments (via text, hopefully) down the side. Without the help of Twitter.

What do you think? Should I show the good, the bad, and the (endless)ugly? Because if nothing else, I could finally remove from my memory the HTML tag that opens links in new windows.

(I do that because it annoys the hell out of me to clink on a link and lose the page I was visiting. Yes, I've become accustomed to right-clicking and hitting "open in new tab" but I'm tired of it.)

Two Hours

Let’s start with some background:
Let's get started:

a) I have terrible insomnia.

b) I now take pills for said sleeplessness, which occasionally help.
I try to keep a pretty tight go-to-bed schedule during the week, because if I awake in the night and can’t get back to sleep (often) at least I got a few hours under my belt ahead of time.

c) Generally, the boy initiates all phone contact. I’m weirdly old-fashioned this way.

d) The time difference between the boy and me is two hours.

You wouldn’t think that two hours is such a huge difference in time. And for the most part, it isn’t. Two hours. The difference between 9am and 11am isn’t very substantial, especially if you’re at school or at work. The only time I really notice time is when the seasons change. For example, right now I’m noticing that the days seem longer. The extension of sunlight makes me dream of the time change, when sunshine will be around even longer.

(An aside: lack of sunlight makes me a bit odder than usual.)

I generally get home around six and am happily ensconced in TV shows by seven. Around eight, I take my sleeping pill and I’m usually in bed around nine or nine-thirty. I know it sounds regimented, but it’s just what works best for me. Yes, I do allow for changes in the schedule; it’s just that they rarely happen. Such is a glamorous life of a single, poor thirty-six-year-old. (Try to contain your envy.)

(Another aside: I’m not totally lame. I was up until four am Friday night!)

To the point! I can hear you mumbling. Fine. When it gets to be about seven-thirty or eight at night, I’m working on the wind-down process. I’m starting to think about what to tell the boy about my day, what silly thing happened, or just whatever random topics we might discuss. After a month of him being busy most nights and me getting eight-minute short-and-sweet conversations, I’ve been looking forward to some extra time with him. The problem is the time difference. For me, seven forty-five is getting up there in time. If we’re going to have any meaningful conversation, it needs to get going already. But for him, it’s not even six and what’s the big deal? I totally get where he’s coming from and I totally get that I’m probably the BIGGEST CONTROL FREAK you’ve ever taken the time to read about, but it still gets to me. In my defense, he is notorious for calling me while in transit and then having to let me go.

So it didn’t help this morning when I checked my messages and the boy left one, just before ten, that said, essentially, how ridiculous it is that I’m asleep already.

Ten? Isn’t ten a reasonable time to be asleep? Assuming I do sleep through the night, (hah!) that’s eight hours of sleep, and isn’t that normal? And if it’s a typical night for me, at three in the morning I am wide awake and raring to…go back to sleep, but I can’t. That leaves me with five hours of sleep, and feeling more than a bit dopey from lack of sleep and that weird sleeping-pill hangover. From there I am expected to be on my toes from about seven thirty in the morning until about five thirty at night, which is not easy to do. Rinse and repeat. The lack of sleep catches up with you, and even better, becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

And that’s why two hours is a bigger deal than you think.

PS

Happy birthday, Wade! I love you so much and I'm so glad we're friends and I can't believe you've put up with me for this long.

Crash!

Hopefully, supposedly, my next vacation up to the Great Northwest is ended. Thank you, tax refund! The problem is that I’ve had to raid from it already. It hardly seems fair – I got my refund on March 1 and I’ve had to take almost $600 from it already. $150 has been repaid, and another $150 on Wednesday, and then the $187 next Monday, and the final $100 will be repaid on the 17th. (Please do not do the math. I realize the totals repaid/to be repaid do not equal $600. I was rounding.) Happy St. Patrick’s Day, indeed! It just seems that bills keep piling up. I’m sure you have no idea of which I speak.

Fortunately, the trip is scheduled for around Memorial Day, so I will have time to get back on my feet. I’ve been a good little savings-disciplined girl to help out as well, so the boy and I can go out a little more often and have more outdoor fun. We’re considering a whale watching trip, which sounds spectacularly amazing. Yes, yes, I’ll be bringing the camera.

Speaking of cameras – because I’m about twelve weeks out from the trip, I am back on my wonderful crash diet, which is highly effective not only at helping me lose weight, but at helping me feel occasionally faint and foggy-headed. Those last two effects tend to be temporary as my body adjusts to the severe calorie restrictions (thank goodness). I realize that this is not the healthiest way to go about the work, but like I said, it is the most effective. My goal is to get off twenty-five (or thirty) pounds before I go. In the past week, I’ve lost the initial five, and my goal for this week is three-and-a-half pounds. That means that the last ten weeks can be made up of more realistic weight loss, for which I am pleased. And if I lose even more, well, that’ll be a happy bonus. I know it sounds like a lot to lose, but I had a lot to eat over the holidays and the extended cold we’ve been having makes me depresso-eat.

One last comment about severe dieting: it doesn’t take me long to realize that I want to make every calorie count. This means no crappy, badly-seasoned foods. I want every single bite to be worth it. To that end, the baked ravioli and meatball casserole is pretty much a bust. The ravioli is good (and 100% whole wheat!) but I’d forgotten how much I don’t like meatballs that aren’t homemade. These meatballs are crappy enough to have the dreaded white ball in them as well. On the minus side, I have to eat it for lunch every day this week as I am too poor to make a replacement dish. On the plus side, however, fewer calories!

A Little Free Advice

(Editor’s note: Nothing in this post should be construed as legal advice, nor should it be relied upon. Posting this entry does not constitute an attorney-client relationship between poster and reader, and no attorney-client privilege should be inferred. If you need to know more, please contact an attorney in your area.)

OK, now that we’ve got the formalities out of the way, let me tell you something: Many, many legal resources are available to you on the internet. This can be a very good thing, as the law is not a secret and each person should be able to learn more about their potential options. This can also be a bad thing, as many forms available on the internet are overly vague and, if they’re even there, have badly defined terms.

Please, for the love of the lack of snow in Alabama today, do NOT get your divorce papers, adoption papers, powers of attorney, or anything important like that from the internet. Use the internet for research. Research is a good thing. Use your local attorney for PAPERS THAT MATTER.

And a little more free advice for Alabamians: Just because you have a power of attorney does not mean that anyone else in the state has to honor it. It is a courtesy, not a right.

And one tiny little pet peeve: Why, if you have lots of money in your bank account, and you want Darling to have access to it, would you not A) add Darling as joint or B) pay your charming local attorney the $50 it’ll cost you to get a real power of attorney?

This And That

I’ve not got anything really big on my mind today (I already know what you’re thinking and HUSH!) so I thought I’d let you know what’s been going on in my life.

Yesterday I had a meeting with my boss’ boss to discuss a potential new position. It’ll be a month or two before I know anything, but it sounds interesting and fits better not only with what I’m trained to do but the way I work best. I’m not very good at mundane details or follow-through. This new position would mean that I’ve have my fingers in a lot of pies, but not so much so that I’d get scalded. So we’ll see.

Last night I went to a meeting for the annual arts weekend that my town holds. Cita insisted that I join, and she’s right, because I do need to get out of the house more. I thought I’d be a volunteer, but instead I’m heading up an exhibit. Cita has arranged for my volunteers, and I don’t have any other details. I did ask her what I needed to do doing until the next general meeting, and she told me that I don’t need to do anything. Well, that’s not going to play too well for an uber-planner like me. I’ll give it a few days, and then I’ll harass her. I just can’t stand the thought of being in charge of an interactive exhibit and not knowing what I’m doing.

Saturday, Momma and I went shopping. We got lots of homey things, because last weekend was really, really pretty – sun and highs in the high 50s – and this weekend was cooler, but just as sunny, and we’re both jonesing for spring. I got two new lamps and a couple of pretty tchotchkes. Here is my updated living room table:

That’s pretty much it. Tomorrow I’m going to an industry function with an old friend/soon-to-be colleague. Hopefully it’ll be fun. I don’t know a lot of the young professionals around here as I practice nontraditionally, but there will be cocktails and maybe one or two of the people I’ve met before when I was brave enough to attend these events by myself.

Ooh! One last thing – Cita – poor, poor Cita – has been enduring my tales of woe for the past two months. I don’t envy her, and I often wonder why she puts up with me. She decided that I needed a treat, so she got me something pretty:

Everyone should have a best friend like Cita.

(P.S. - I took that picture with my phone and my left hand, neither of which do well for me,)