I'm slowly warming to the idea of getting my clothes tailored. Instead of having my fat pants and post-food poisoning (aka skinny) pants, I could just have pants, shirts, and jackets that fit year round and look better. So I was pleased when I saw a sandwich board on the sidewalk near my house boasting of alterations from an expert seamstress who had done work for Yves Saint Laurent. Having worked with Carol a few times now, I think perhaps she did an alteration once on a Yves Saint Laurent garment and the shop owners took liberties with that resume bullet.
The other two people who work there and may even be owners of the vintage-retro-designer hell of the place, are weird. The guy is one of those gay men with a syrupy voice whose eyes are never as warm as his white smile. The woman is a passive aggressive snob who is perhaps used to fussing over more important people. They both refer to Carol and treat her a little like she is on a work release program or in transition from a half-way house. They gush about her work as if I'll never wear any other pants once I try on the ones she hemmed. Their prices aren't cheap either. I can't figure out why they feel the need to pump her up when the work pretty much speaks for itself. I was ready to write off their excessive enthusiasm until I got my clothes back. The pants were awesome but my shirt, which had a tie threaded through it when I dropped it off was returned to me in two pieces, unthreaded and inexplicably cut. Not a word was mentioned when I picked it up, all they did was gush about how well everything had come out. Then Carol altered a dress that I had been swimming in to something I could no longer zip up. She asked me if I was wearing a different bra as if that would make it physically impossible to zip up. My favorite part was when she indicated there would be no charge for fixing the dress and my shirt.
Phffft. So hard to find good help.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Bare necessities
Best lyric:
"And don't spend your time looking around for something you want that can't be found, when you find out you can live without it and go along not thinking about it."
"And don't spend your time looking around for something you want that can't be found, when you find out you can live without it and go along not thinking about it."
So I married an axe murderer
If you're one of those single people with limited cable options like me, you may find yourself inside all day on a perfectly fine Saturday watching back to back episodes of Forensic Files, Dateline Mystery and all other manner of true crime stories. Nevermind that this is among the lamest ways to spend a Saturday, especially if you aren't doing laundry or other housework to justify 80 year old shut-in behavior. But if you DO find yourself in similar circumstances, I'm curious if you went to bed that night sincerely doubting your ability to chose a mate that wouldn't later murder you. When I'm putting the cart in front of the horse, worrying/thinking about marriage, I think about losing physical interest in one another, or whether we'll agree on money, or household division of labor, pets... But now I add to that whether the financial implications of divorce, or my intolerance of his hard core porn addiction, or his infidelity will serve as a strong enough motivation for him to kill me and pretend to be consumed with finding the real killer, at least for the first 72 hours. Relationships sure are complicated.
In unrelated news, about a month ago, I found my neighbor's keys in their mailbox. It had charms with little paw prints, and miniature dog, and hearts, obviously a girl's keys. I knocked on the door and was surprised to see a really cute guy who had just moved in answer the door. I met him the weekend he moved in when he held the elevator for me and we joked around a bit about leaving the friend I was with. After that first encounter, I saw him almost every day for a week and he always ended up holding a door for me. He knew who I was but was understandably confused to find me at his door on a Sunday night and even more confused that I had his keys and knew that they belonged to him. I explained they were left in the mailbox which is why I knew who they belonged to and the wrinkles on his forehead relaxed into a warm smile as he thanked me for bringing them up. I could hear him talking to someone about leaving their keys in the mailbox as I walked away.
After a long break, I saw him again yesterday. He was with what I'm guessing was his family. When I returned from my walk that evening, I found one of the charms from the keys I had returned on the ground near our mailboxes. I put the charm on his mailbox and wondered to myself how and why our orbits keep intersecting in such interesting ways. I saw him this morning going out for my walk and when I returned from my walk, the elevator door just happened to be open as I passed by and we saw eachother again. I know it doesn't amount to anything but I'm intrigued by the intersections nonetheless. It takes a lot to run into someone multiple times over the same day in a sizable complex. I don't even routinely bump into OG and she lives one floor up from me. When I got inside, I of course checked the mirror to see if I at least looked okay. Nope. Hair sticking out both sides of my temple like lopsided horns. Awesome. That guy is way too pretty to go to jail for my murder anyway.
In unrelated news, about a month ago, I found my neighbor's keys in their mailbox. It had charms with little paw prints, and miniature dog, and hearts, obviously a girl's keys. I knocked on the door and was surprised to see a really cute guy who had just moved in answer the door. I met him the weekend he moved in when he held the elevator for me and we joked around a bit about leaving the friend I was with. After that first encounter, I saw him almost every day for a week and he always ended up holding a door for me. He knew who I was but was understandably confused to find me at his door on a Sunday night and even more confused that I had his keys and knew that they belonged to him. I explained they were left in the mailbox which is why I knew who they belonged to and the wrinkles on his forehead relaxed into a warm smile as he thanked me for bringing them up. I could hear him talking to someone about leaving their keys in the mailbox as I walked away.
After a long break, I saw him again yesterday. He was with what I'm guessing was his family. When I returned from my walk that evening, I found one of the charms from the keys I had returned on the ground near our mailboxes. I put the charm on his mailbox and wondered to myself how and why our orbits keep intersecting in such interesting ways. I saw him this morning going out for my walk and when I returned from my walk, the elevator door just happened to be open as I passed by and we saw eachother again. I know it doesn't amount to anything but I'm intrigued by the intersections nonetheless. It takes a lot to run into someone multiple times over the same day in a sizable complex. I don't even routinely bump into OG and she lives one floor up from me. When I got inside, I of course checked the mirror to see if I at least looked okay. Nope. Hair sticking out both sides of my temple like lopsided horns. Awesome. That guy is way too pretty to go to jail for my murder anyway.
Friday, July 24, 2009
The drinking week
Every now and then when I go to the doctor, I get to fill out one of those wonderful questionnaires they never even actually review asking me my entire health history; first day of my last menstrual period (why do they always act so put out when you don't remember this date? I regularly miss friend's birthdays, why would I commit that date to memory every single month?), family history, and questions about my drug, alcohol, and caffeine consumption. Well this week wrecked my drinking average big time. And because of all the drinking and blacking out and random guys, it seemed like a years worth of living in one week.
That was joke for those who missed it.
Moving on, I think I'll go ahead and remove yesterday's video attachment because about 12 hours after I thought I had found something unique, it was on Good Morning America. It's still fun and exactly what I told my mom I wanted to do years ago if I ever got married (she said no), but having gone viral, you can get it anywhere and I hate looking like a trendy follower.
I'm thinking of getting back on match.com for a supernova moment right before the star burns out completely. I am paid through the beginning of August but have had no presence on the site since May or June. We'll see how desperately boring the weekend becomes. I saw StairMaster for the first time in weeks this morning. He was on his usual intense climb to nowhere, lifting impossible weights over his head. OG is having regular sightings of the resident hot guy and I am having semi-regular sightings of Daryl, our new maintenance guy. He looks and acts exactly like you expect a maintenance guy named Daryl to look and act.
I've also got a prospective stalker who accidentally (I think) let it slip that he looks for me in the morning when I'm out with the dog and walks around where he thinks I might be, looking for me. He repeatedly asked me if I would let him buy me a cheesesteak and told me that I looked "natural" and seemed like a really nice person. I did not press him for an explanation on what about me he found natural. He told me he was afraid to talk to me because he didn't know what he would say and said something about the few times I've seen him on previous walks that implied it wasn't an accident that he was there. He would have been sweet were it not for the admission of clear stalking behavior and a touch of obsession you should not admit to the object of your obsession if you don't want to tempt a restraining order. I've taken care not to walk by his shop since then but yesterday saw him in a place I've never seen him before. Might be time to start carrying the asp. I will beat a mother-fer for real.
New blog friends, I shall be visiting you this weekend and getting acquainted with your fine work and interesting souls.
That was joke for those who missed it.
Moving on, I think I'll go ahead and remove yesterday's video attachment because about 12 hours after I thought I had found something unique, it was on Good Morning America. It's still fun and exactly what I told my mom I wanted to do years ago if I ever got married (she said no), but having gone viral, you can get it anywhere and I hate looking like a trendy follower.
I'm thinking of getting back on match.com for a supernova moment right before the star burns out completely. I am paid through the beginning of August but have had no presence on the site since May or June. We'll see how desperately boring the weekend becomes. I saw StairMaster for the first time in weeks this morning. He was on his usual intense climb to nowhere, lifting impossible weights over his head. OG is having regular sightings of the resident hot guy and I am having semi-regular sightings of Daryl, our new maintenance guy. He looks and acts exactly like you expect a maintenance guy named Daryl to look and act.
I've also got a prospective stalker who accidentally (I think) let it slip that he looks for me in the morning when I'm out with the dog and walks around where he thinks I might be, looking for me. He repeatedly asked me if I would let him buy me a cheesesteak and told me that I looked "natural" and seemed like a really nice person. I did not press him for an explanation on what about me he found natural. He told me he was afraid to talk to me because he didn't know what he would say and said something about the few times I've seen him on previous walks that implied it wasn't an accident that he was there. He would have been sweet were it not for the admission of clear stalking behavior and a touch of obsession you should not admit to the object of your obsession if you don't want to tempt a restraining order. I've taken care not to walk by his shop since then but yesterday saw him in a place I've never seen him before. Might be time to start carrying the asp. I will beat a mother-fer for real.
New blog friends, I shall be visiting you this weekend and getting acquainted with your fine work and interesting souls.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Muses
I had a comment the other day asking me who/what provoked my gushing about some of the amazing writers in/on the blogsphere. If I can only visit 5 blogs, these are the ones I would click on and why:
1. LODO GRDZAK STAYS PUT AND WATCHES THE WORLD GO ROUND
Lodo has a very interesting life but more than that, Lodo is very good at telling stories about his interesting life. And he doesn't pull punches or file down his edges for public consumption. If he does, Dear God.
2. The Curious Adventures of Angela Christine
Before Angela was here, she was here. She had a previous blog before that one and perhaps even another before then. Perhaps at the beginning there was God and Angela's writing. Angela has a beautiful expressive heart and she writes in a way that touches me. She is an ethereal churn of emotion, sensation, observation, and humor. I'm not even sure what that means but it just sounds like it fits.
3. ;)semicolonsmile
Tamara is only awesome. She takes us with her on her walks and shows us the funny signs, statues, and suggestive packaging she encounters on the way. I like the way she uses words. I like that about all the writers on this list.
4. The Sneeze
Steve is freaking hilarious. He's a great writer too. There are a few insightful quiet pieces tucked here and there in the site. I have his Steve Don't Eat It! series on my growing sidebar of links. Don't read it at work because I swear at least once, you will laugh until you cry or at least far too loud and inappropriately for work.
5. She hates my futon
Available only as a web archive, this was my first web obsession, circa 2000. Back when nothing was free and I'm not even sure the word 'blog' existed, this still unfinished novella existed. I got my then cubicle mate hooked on this story and he and I were equally obsessed with Craig Mitchell. I don't know where he is now but almost everything that comes up when you google 'she hates my futon' is some message board or blog full of comments lamenting this unfinished experience.
Within my newest blog-mates, the few snippets I've had the time to read in these past hectic heavy weeks, make me excited to read more. I've left comments on the few that I've had a chance to visit that just floored me. Write on!
1. LODO GRDZAK STAYS PUT AND WATCHES THE WORLD GO ROUND
Lodo has a very interesting life but more than that, Lodo is very good at telling stories about his interesting life. And he doesn't pull punches or file down his edges for public consumption. If he does, Dear God.
2. The Curious Adventures of Angela Christine
Before Angela was here, she was here. She had a previous blog before that one and perhaps even another before then. Perhaps at the beginning there was God and Angela's writing. Angela has a beautiful expressive heart and she writes in a way that touches me. She is an ethereal churn of emotion, sensation, observation, and humor. I'm not even sure what that means but it just sounds like it fits.
3. ;)semicolonsmile
Tamara is only awesome. She takes us with her on her walks and shows us the funny signs, statues, and suggestive packaging she encounters on the way. I like the way she uses words. I like that about all the writers on this list.
4. The Sneeze
Steve is freaking hilarious. He's a great writer too. There are a few insightful quiet pieces tucked here and there in the site. I have his Steve Don't Eat It! series on my growing sidebar of links. Don't read it at work because I swear at least once, you will laugh until you cry or at least far too loud and inappropriately for work.
5. She hates my futon
Available only as a web archive, this was my first web obsession, circa 2000. Back when nothing was free and I'm not even sure the word 'blog' existed, this still unfinished novella existed. I got my then cubicle mate hooked on this story and he and I were equally obsessed with Craig Mitchell. I don't know where he is now but almost everything that comes up when you google 'she hates my futon' is some message board or blog full of comments lamenting this unfinished experience.
Within my newest blog-mates, the few snippets I've had the time to read in these past hectic heavy weeks, make me excited to read more. I've left comments on the few that I've had a chance to visit that just floored me. Write on!
I love it when a plan comes together
Once in a very great while, I have a day that seems like it has been in the making my entire life. One that ties a bunch of random strings together in a complicated and fascinating little bow. For those inclined to attribute that wonder to God, I think it serves as a reminder of how masterful God is at making all things good. It's also reminiscent of the Mr. Coffee Samurai adage to mind only the small things. There is clarity in how all the pieces of your life matter at moments like that. A very 'a-ha' moment.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Sometimes
Sometimes an $18 dollar cocktail is worth every penny. Especially when someone else buys it. It's a good thing I'm too cheap to become an alcoholic. I otherwise might be able to have the sage gin fizz from this place every single night (and morning) to take the edge off the pointy parts of life. It would only take one, I'm such a wonderfully cheap date, even at a swanky place.
Sometimes I stumble across writing in this blog world that helps me put my would-be dream of writing professionally in perspective because they are just so amazingly talented and moving, I'm a child's coloring book in comparison. It won't make me stop writing but I do appreciate what writing has done to help me recognize just how awesome some of these writers are.
Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever challenge myself to live like I just found out I'm dying. It makes no sense since I don't get to stay here forever no matter how long I actually end up living. But given the opportunity of advance knowledge (what/when), I think I would take the elevator to mysterious, might be gay, handsome tux wearing guy who also has an impossibly masculine name and just ask him out. Or not. Knowing me, I'd probably use imminent death to avoid talking to any guy I might possibly care about and instead enjoy a string of meaningless affairs with bus drivers and any random dude who tried to get my number.
Sometimes I stumble across writing in this blog world that helps me put my would-be dream of writing professionally in perspective because they are just so amazingly talented and moving, I'm a child's coloring book in comparison. It won't make me stop writing but I do appreciate what writing has done to help me recognize just how awesome some of these writers are.
Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever challenge myself to live like I just found out I'm dying. It makes no sense since I don't get to stay here forever no matter how long I actually end up living. But given the opportunity of advance knowledge (what/when), I think I would take the elevator to mysterious, might be gay, handsome tux wearing guy who also has an impossibly masculine name and just ask him out. Or not. Knowing me, I'd probably use imminent death to avoid talking to any guy I might possibly care about and instead enjoy a string of meaningless affairs with bus drivers and any random dude who tried to get my number.
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