Trying

I'm really trying to get back to somewhat of a normal routine. The thing is that whatever I do, wherever I go, I know that the last time I did 'this', I had my baby. So, every bus ride, every episode of MASH, hell, even looking at my laundry basket, reminds me that not so long ago, everything was fine.

I go through hours of feeling OK, and then get hit with a wave of total dispair that is surprising because its so uncharacteristic. My biggest worry is that with time the memories will fade. Not disapear, but fade. Right now I can close my eyes and feel her fur on my face. When I used to feel like this I would bury my face in her ruff and just be, feeling her breathing and purring, and it would make things a little better. I can feel it still, but I won't remember that forever. I just wont. Her specific meow, the confused look on her face when she knew you were on the bed, but couldnt quite see you. The look of satisfaction when she had jumped onto your lap and carved herself a nest. Her wandering into the living room and looking for me. She would actually sit and try to find me, and when she made the mistake of jumping on my dad's lap, she would jump down almost immediately and continue the search. Finding me, there was a sense of accomplishment, an air of 'you were hiding but I found you and will now wave my tail under your nose/in front of your book'.

She had fur between her toes, soft and groomed, and she hated it if you touched it. She had fur pantaloons that made her look so comical when she was trying to stalk off in anger. She claimed my bed as her own, sleeping at the end of the bed, so that my legs would be forced into the strangest positions. She would knead her tail, or wave it in front of her own nose, making herself annoyed, and then thrashing the tail harder. She had the softest fur I've ever felt. A friend of mine once got a rabbit's foot and had me feel it, claiming, "you've never felt anything so soft". I had. And I had felt it every day for 16 years.

She was a beutiful cat. She was a coward, she was a diva, she was mine. And I was hers. Should she see me coming down the hall, she would dash ahead of me, wait until I caught up, and dash ahead again, making sure I knew the way to the bedroom. If I was not heading to the bedroom, she would get there, turn and peer around the door frame, seemingly asking, 'well, are you coming?'.

She would run down the stairs in the strangest way. Instead of the one foot at a time method favored by most mammals, she would bounce front legs and then back legs. Somehow, she made the journey pretty fast, but it always sounded like a bowling ball going down the stairs.

She would jump up on my bed while I was trying to get dressed, and position herself exactly where I wanted to sit. She would nuzzle my boobs, my bed posts, my shoes, my door. She would get quite preturbed if you threw your sweatpants over her head, and so evertime I took off my sweatpants, I made sure to do so.

She never wanted anyone to see her eat or go to the bathroom. If you entered the bathroom when either activity was occuring she would either scamper away, or glare at you until she had finished.

I would pull her up onto my chest in the mornings and we'd have a sleepy staring contest. Her feet resting on my collar bone were comforting and kind, even when they started to knead and her claws pierced my skin.

Mostly I will miss the unconditional love that she gave me and I gave her. No matter what, I could always count on the fact that when I went home, there she'd be, on my bed. Waiting for me. I would walk in and she would wake up, try to meow sleepily, try again and end up with a 'meep'. I would meep back at her, confident that all that needed to be said, had been said. When I got stood up for a date in high school, I curled up with my kitten and cried and she just purred at me. When my grandparents died, she sat and watched and nuzzled. When I got into college, she was there, when I didn't get into the college I wanted to, she was there. When everything that has happened in my life, good or bad, since I was in the third grade happend, She was there. Thats the hardest part. Shes never not been there. So many things have happened in my life. Constants in life are few and far between, and for the majority of my life to date, she was one.

I guess this is part of the catharsis. The part of the AA pledge that says that there are things that we cannot control. Death definitely falls into that category. And though I do know that another cat will give me an outlet for the love I've lost, and though I know that another cat may do the things she did, sleep on my bed, meow at me, etc., another cat isn't her.

Its so interesting that I don't really believe in a heaven for people, but I have to believe in a heaven for animals. You never really know people's hearts, no matter how honest they think they're being with you about themselves, there is always something that everyone holds back. Animals dont. They love you regardless of fat, thin, short, tall, happy, sad, etc. And she didn't have to. I know that. Bard didn't love me, he tolerated me. She loved me. And I loved her.

How Strange

Once again the universe has me beat. Once again, while wallowing in self-pity and the certainty that there is no one remaining in the world who loves me and that smrgl was the only kind thing in my life, the universe comes up with this.

Two of my coworkers, with whom my total relationship has been "good morning" and "have a good night" brought me flowers to brighten my day and as a gesture about my cat. I blurted it out to Alisha as she was signing in this morning, and she and Justin spent their lunch hour buying me lillies.

If I wasn't such a mean ol' biddy, I'd break right down and cry.

You will Cry

Lend Me a Cat

I will lend to you for awhile
a Kitten, God said,
For you to love her while she lives
and to mourn for her when she is gone.
Maybe for twelve or fourteen years,
or maybe for two or three.
But will you, till I call her back
take care of her for me ?

She'll bring her charms to gladden you
and (should his stay be brief)
you'll always have her memories
as solace for your grief .
I cannot promise that she will stay,
since all from earth return,

But there are lessons taught below
I want this cat to learn.

I've looked the whole world over
in search of teachers true
And from the folk that crowd life's land
I have chosen you.

Now will you give her all your love
Nor think the labour vain
Nor hate me when I come to take

my kitten back again.

I fancied that I heard them say
"Dear Lord Thy WIll Be Done,"
For all the joys this cat will bring,
the risk of grief you'll run.

Will you shelter her with tenderness
Will you love her while you may
And for the happiness you'll know forever grateful stay.

But should I call her back
much sooner than you've planned
Please brave the bitter grief that comes
and try to understand.
If, by your love, you've managed
my wishes to achieve,
In memory of her that you've loved,

cherish every moment with your faithful bundle,
and know she loved you too.

I Watched Too Much Grey's Anatomy

This just in:

I was sitting at my desk, minding my own, when I hear a baby crying. Of course, my mind immediately jumps to that Grey's Anatomy where the chick had her baby in the bathroom and put it in the trash.

I was like, OHMIGOD theres a baby in the bathroom trash! What do I do?!

Then my third thoughts* kicked in. 'hang on', they said, 'people have been in and out of the bathroom all morning, including you. the crying is really sporadic and is much clearer than it would be coming out of the wastebasket in a bathroom. Chillax. If it keeps happening with no indication that anyone is dealing with it, assume no ones dealing with it and check it out.'

Turns out a father in my office had brought his 10 month old daughter in for a moment to grab some stuff to work from home. She had a fever and couldnt go to daycare, so he was on duty to stay with her, and needed some papers that he had left on his desk.

Those TV shows can really mess you up! Just like everytime I watch House I think I'm getting Rabies or whatever.

*First Thoughts are the everyday thoughts. Everyone has those. Second Thoughts are the thoughts you think about the way you think. People who enjoy thinking have those. Third Thoughts are thoughts that watch the world and think all by themselves. They’re rare, and often troublesome.

Subterfuge in B major

So it is 9 am, and Harold my BFF at my new job isnt in yet. He is the mail guy, handles pick ups and deliveries and goes down to let delivery men in with their wares.

This morning there was a HUGE shipment of boxes, and I mean huge. I called Sandra, one of the ladies who takes over parts of Harold's duties when hes not in. She went down, saw how much there was and came back up to get a hand-truck. As she was heading down the second time she says to me, "I'm not carrying all that crap. I think I'll just tell him that I'm pregnant"

And she did!

Warning! Boob Related Content

There are plants in my office. It gives the place a little more homey feel, but it also gives the place gnats.

They especially like to fly around me, since I am at the reception desk and there are more plants per sqare inch in reception than anywhere else in the office.

Anyway, I usually just clap them to death when they get in my face, then purell like whoa.

Today one flew down my shirt. And got stuck. And so, I had to kill it. With my boobs.

We can now add 'homicidal' to the adjectives that can accurately describe them.

Le sigh.

I'd like to marry all of my close friends,

live in a big house together,

by an angry sea.

-Of Montreal, Don't ask me to explain

This is one of my favorite lyrics of all time because its so strange, yet so real. Who wouldn't want to marry all of their close friends and live in a big house with them by the sea? I certainly would.

Anyway, I never thought I'd run accross something on the internet that was so closely tied to that lyric and that feeling than this:

This is a straight up, honest to God, 15th Century Scottish Castle. It is available to rent for extended periods of time with a full household staff including chef, masseur, gillie, and ranger.

They also have what they call Open House Parties, where there are multiple paying guests, and the activities are planned out beforehand, as opposed to cutomized to the individual renter.

This is absolutely on my list of things that I would do at least once a year if I had the means. I mean c'mon! An entire estate to yourself and friends, the whole wide outdoors of the Scottish Highlands to wander around in, céilidhs in the evenings, fishing, falconry, boat rides around the loch, even archery!

Can you think of a better way to spend a week or two? I really can't. I know that this all sounds way too outdoorsey for me, and maybe it would be, but should I get tired of being muddy/cold, I could always head back into the CASTLE and get a massage. Or read a book from their extensive and ancient library (old books being one of my absolutely favorite things on the planet!) by a roaring fire and have scones and tea. Or take a walk to the nearby village and go shopping.

And for those of you who make fun of me for occasionally buying lotto tickets, you're not invited!

Third Post of the Day

Wow, I'm really on a blogging roll today!

The most awesome Norman Borlaug died on September 12th at the age of 95.

Mr. Borlaug was the inventer of dwarf wheat, a special wheat hybrid that grew twice the amount of food in the same space as traditional wheat. He won the Nobel Peace Prize and is credited with saving over 245 million lives worldwide.

And if anyone says anything about the celebrity death triangle, I'll punch you in the dwarf wheat, dig?

Everything I Need to Know About Politics, I learned from Walt Disney

So last night Lauren and I watched the Disney Robin Hood. The only reason to watch this movie (which we have both seen many times) is that Harold was making a lot of noise yesterday and after a particularly loud crash my exclamation was, "crimenitley!"* And thus, Robin Hood.

*For those of you who don't know this word or reference. I really can't help you.

As we were watching it, I realized that here was a perfect analogy for the current healthcare clusterfuck debate.

Go with me on this people.

The left wing sees the Obama healthcare plan that provides ONE option in addition to those that we already have available, as a version of Robin Hood. We see it as an additional tax on less than 1% of the richest families in the US, to help pay for the care of the 99% of families who for whatever reason, are without care. Taking from the rich, to redistribute among the poor.

The right wing sees the Obama administration as Prince John/The Sherrif of Nottingham. That he wants to tax everyone into poverty, reducing the middle class to the bedraggled masses protrayed in Robin Hood, and counting his money every night with Michelle as Sir Hiss.

Honestly, thats the divide. Now if people could just find some sort of middle ground and see that there may be some of each of the two opposites in the plan, maybe we could have a correct, polite, and open debate.

Courtesy Blogg

Hello all you dutiful readers (snorts up sleeve), this post is from an email message. The Bloggstress in question worries that the woman of the story reads her blog, so she asks that I post it. And she is correct, the tale is right up my alley. I will try to post with little to no interuptions to the original message, but should I feel the need to, I will be in this font.

A woman I know has lived in Greenwich Village her entire adult life (and she’s 40-something), which is sad enough right there. She gets all enthusiastic about seeing anything with chlorophyll. Seriously, she posted a bunch of photos of weeds and asked her readers to identify them. One of them (no shit) was crabgrass. Maybe I should stop and smell the crabgrass. I like to think of myself as a person who can find the beauty in things. But … crabgrass? Really? You don’t know what this plant is?

Anyway, lately she’s had this saga that is going to KILL you (and your dad). She wanted to hang a bird feeder, after someone kindly identified a ROBIN for her in a photo. (I am not kidding.) She hung this bird feeder out on her fire escape, and then agonized that the birds weren’t finding it. Pigeons and doves would just perch on the railing but ignore the feeder. I didn’t have the heart to tell her, pigeons/doves feed on the GROUND. I kept hoping she’d get some REAL birds to be excited about, but no.

Eventually she gathered a regular crowd of birds – pigeons – that would eat and poop all over the fire escape (mainly because her feeder kept falling down and spilling, so they could eat on the floor). Of course, the falling of the feeder was a crisis situation. She tried one solution after another to keep the feeder hanging – a hook that got dislodged somehow, a piece of wood balanced between the railings, I don’t remember what all. (It was nearly as riveting as the weeks she spent trying to find a litter pan that would keep the cat piss off the wall.)

Anyway, she had “birds” and she was happy. But then the bird shit started getting to be a problem. So she tried to cover her fire escape with a plastic drop sheet, and we went through several iterations of that, where to anchor it and how to place the bricks, and how to clean the poop off the iron grates. Her biggest fear was that her presence on the fire escape would scare the birds away.

[Personal note: I would consider it a triumph to have scared pigeons away. I’ve found them to be pretty unscare-able. When I lived with your mom and worked in DC, I was always trying to kick one.] Personal note from me: I have sucessfully kicked a pigeon and will never attempt to ever again ever. Not because the plight of the forlorn pigeon has touched my heart, or that I think of them as anything other than flying rats; but because after your foot makes contact you spend the rest of the day thinking, 'oh my god, part of my body touched a pigeon! I need to boil my foot! or scrub with lye!'

All was quiet for a few days, and we had more photos of fat pigeons hanging out on the plastic-covered balcony, while the indoor cats looked out the window and plotted. BUT THEN! TRAGEDY! (Brace yourself.) Other tenants in the building complained about the spilled seeds, feathers and bird shit, and the blogger was asked to remove her feeder.

She was heartbroken. I pulled a muscle laughing.

Then there was the remorse over those poor hungry birdies relying on her for the feeder, which wasn’t there anymore. She found an undisclosed location for the feeder, but she’s not sure she’ll keep it filled if she doesn’t get to share in the joy of watching the birds herself. (Pigeons! They’re fat lazy dirty sluggish nasty PIGEONS!) So, although she contemplated leaving a trail of seeds from her fire escape to the new location (again, I am not making this up), she was afraid she’d be setting them up for disappointment when the feeder wasn’t kept filled.

Another personal note from me: I hate to have a blog post without pictures, I dont know why but i do. deal. But when I was combing the internet for Pigeon pics, they were all so gross and ... pigeoney. Blech. Then I found this one. I think the pigeon is really an afterthought. So everyone, enjoy the baby monkey cuddling a pigeon!

Work Weirdness

Someone just came up to me with a comb.

And they said they found it on the floor, and thought they should turn it into me in case someone was looking for it.

this raises the following questions:
Who brings their own comb to work?
Who, after having brought a comb to work, doesnt notice when they drop it?
Why would they then expect it to be in the lost and found?

I just threw it away. it was gross and still had hairs on it. (yech!). I told Harold that if somone comes up to me looking for it then they could go through the trash for it, or i would just buy them a new one. It was one of those Goody combs that cost like 50 cents at cvs. weird and gross

also, theres this lady that rides my bus everyday. and everyday she gets on with like 3 full tote bags and then is surprised that she has to pay.

EVERY DAY! so she goes through this whole thing where she either plops her shit down on a seat and then goes up to the front, making the bus wait that much longer, OR she blocks other people from getting on while she tries to manage getting money out while her arms are full with her 3 tote bags.

I'm like, LADY, THE BUS COSTS MONEY EVERYDAY! DONT LOOK SO DAMN SURPRISED! BE READY WHEN THE BUS GETS THERE, YOU'RE CLEARLY WAITING FOR IT, BE PREPARED!

maybe its a brilliant scheme to not pay, because honestly some drivers are like, just go away. but she annoys the crap out of me. and then she switches seats at like every stop. She'll move up a row everytime a seat clears until she's right up front and then she'll sit at the very edge of her seat like shes trying to get further up and she just cant. I'm like, whats your glitch? you'll get to your stop at the same time no matter how close you sit to the door, i promise.

Back to things that make me happy

Have you guys seen the Christian Siriano Fall/Winter collection? Probably not because it was only shown like 2 days ago, but if you can find pics of it online (i found them on jezebel, natch), then I highly recommend it.
Whatever your feelings for him are after his stint on Project Runway, the clothes are beautiful! Well, he goes a little nutty round the middle, cat suits in metalic blue leather.... odd, but otherwise, they are just beautiful.

There are several dresses that I would add to my wardrobe in a second! He does a lot with chiffon and oooh, pretty.

See the rest of the collection here.

this job may end in homicide

Bitchface just said:

"I think women who are raped deserve it. Don't put yourself in that situation, you know? like, they dress all provocatively and then they're like 'ooohhh rape'. Get over yourselves."

I am speechless.

As Always, Aaron Sorkin Espresses my feelings better than I do

"We all need some therapy, because somebody came along and said, "'Liberal' means soft on crime, soft on drugs, soft on Communism, soft on defense, and we're gonna tax you back to the Stone Age because people shouldn't have to go to work if they don't want to!" And instead of saying, "Well, excuse me, you right-wing, reactionary, xenophobic, homophobic, anti-education, anti-choice, pro-gun, Leave It To Beaver trip back to the Fifties...!", we cowered in the corner, and said, "Please. Don't. Hurt. Me." No more. I really don't care who's right, who's wrong. We're both right. We're both wrong. Let's have two parties, huh? What do you say?"


-West Wing, Season 3, "Gone Quiet"

Safely Disregaring Opinions

I contemplated for about 4 seconds whether I should write this post. It concerns a coworker whom I try to be civil to, but whom I would gladly choke to death. Since this is going on the internet in a rather public forum, I pondered the idea of talking smack about this woman. Though I will not use her name, were she ever to read this, she could easily determine that I was talking about her, and then I would be easily fired. But, I consoled myself that the only ways she could find this blog are:

1) If I gave her the url. Since I hate pretty much everything she stands for and vice-versa, I doubt that I'll be inviting her into my inner-most thoughts.

2) If she got the link from my facebook profile. Again, since I truly despise her, I will not be her facebook friend, even if she asks, which she wont.

3) If she figures out my online name (arielbop) and then does an in depth internet search of said name. again, we are not on anything like the terms where I would disclose my parents nickname for me, so she would have no reason to discover it. Unless she's so obsessed with me that she seriously online stalks me.

Now that all of that is out of the way, on to the post.

My pet name for her among my friends is the Bitchface, so I think that's what we'll be sticking with here.

Today, Bitchface decided to spew some more of her republican juice on me, determined that she will somehow transform me into a new Republican clone. She descried Obama's school speech, claiming that it is socialist rhetoric, and that he's not actually an American. Oh yes, thats a thing! Then when I explained for the umpteenth time that I am a DEMOCRAT and very far to the LEFT on many many many issues, the following came out of Bitchface's mouth;
"I think you'd be a republican if your parents were more down to Earth"

OH NO YOU DIDN'T BITCH!

This made me so angry that I could spit! Honestly! Who the hell does she think she is? I have itemized my anger thus;

A) What the fuck are you doing insulting my parents whom you've never met?!
B) Who the fuck do you think you are telling me what I should believe?!
C) Why the fuck do you think that I can't make political decisions for myself and need parental approval to have a thought in my head?!

This is the same woman who is a proud Anne Coulter fan. The same woman who believes that in the very public divorce, Jon Gosselin is the responsible parent. The same woman who has a comic strip at her desk that essentially claims that all Democrats want to do is give out free things to those who 'don't deserve it'.

While I do believe that there are people in this country who take advantage of government programs, there is nothing in my soul that would stop said programs. If it is within my power to help someone who needs help, I will always help. ALWAYS!

Its even in the damn Declaration of Independence! Written by a founding father. You know, the founding fathers that the Republicans claim to know personally or some shit. Here's the direct quote;

"But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security"

That means that when something is wrong, those who have the ability to fix it have the RESPONSIBILITY to fix it. It is our DUTY!

I don't think I could hate this woman more if she were inside me EATING HER WAY OUT.

But my good friend Lauren provided me with a calming new mantra. "Well, she likes Ann Coulter. So I think we can safely disregard most of her opinions"

Now whenever she decides to spew her bile on me, I'll just repeat in my head 'safely disregard all of her opinions. safely disregard all of her opinions.'

Things that make me Happy!

http://jezebel.com/5355688/another-day-another-gop-politician-forsaking-his-vows


As the commenter says: Its Schadenfreudelicious!

Morning Annoyances

Maybe its just because the weather is crappy for like the third day in a row, but I'm annoyed at things this morning.

1) on the bus this morning was the one sour and not at all pleasant guy from my office. Which means that we had to ride the bus together and then get off at the same stop, and then wait to cross the street and then wait for the elevator and then ride the elevator, all in complete awkward silence. yech.

2) the tv that is just out of hearing range from my desk keeps playing a news story about sesame street. And though I can't hear the news story, I can sure as hell hear the Sesame Street theme song. Now, god knows I love the street, but those kids voices are pretty piercing, plus they are playing it at apparently random intervals, so just as soon as i get it out of my head here it comes again, "CAN YOU TELL ME HOW TO GET!!!" urgh. loud and super annoying.

At least I didnt have to deal with a coffee lake this morning.

A Visit from the Fuck Up Fairy

Story Time:

Once upon an age ago, when my paternal grandfather was still living and when the family went to my grandparent's house for every holiday, something happened.

Well, obviously something happened, or I wouldn't have remembered it, and this would be a really short story.

In my grandparent's house there were certain jobs done by certain people. I'm sure its the same in every home, though, of course, assigned tasks in one home could be the miscellaneous ones in another. In my grandparent's home the assigned tasks at mealtimes were as follows. Grandma made dinner, Grandpa ate dinner. Grandma made and dressed the salad, Grandpa 'tossed' the salad (I'm pretty sure it was tossed in the kitchen before it made its way to the dining room). Grandpa made the coffee.

OK, this fateful day, grandpa went into the kitchen as usual to make the coffee and came back out to the dining room as usual. Grandma, after letting enough time go by for coffee to have been made, went into the kitchen to serve the coffee. But instead of finding a full pot of coffee in the middle of her gleaming counter in the middle of her gleaming kitchen, she found coffee all over the floors and counters. Grandpa had forgotten to put the pot under the coffee maker. And of such things are familial legends made.

Fast forward about 20 years.

I came into work this morning after sucessfully navigating the bus, put down my purse and headed to the kitchen to get my coffee to start the day. I'm sure all of you can see what is coming. I entered the kitchen to find a waterfall of coffee streaming into a lake of coffee. Someone had begun a pot when there was already a full pot under the spout. The coffee was fountaining out of the pot in every way imaginable, the coffee was flowing freely down the cupboards, the dishwasher, everything.

As I am one of the first people in the office every morning, there were only 3 possible culprits. I contemplated all three of them as I mopped coffee from every imaginable surface and went through 5 rolls of paper towels.

Colleen: Not possible. She is the token mousey lady of the office. Sad little features, oversized and horribly out of date glasses. Likely leads a sad little life. Besides which, she doesnt drink coffee, only milk from her own gallon jug that she brings in every monday.

BJ: Big boss lady. hardly likely to cause such a calamity. VERY experienced coffee drinker, plus purchaser of coffee and paper towels. Plus, she came into the kitchen about halfway through the clean-up, exclaimed, and assisted.

Allen: Likeliest candidate. super deep voice that actually vibrates my bones. Unpleasant. Plus has a penchent for not really paying attention. He never tells me when he is expecting a package (a safety protocol), or when he is expecting a courier to drop by (another safety protocol). Occasionally drops big boxes of things at the front desk, leaving me to deal with them, and on more than one occasion has deposited said box into my hands as the phone was ringing. Not exactly Mr. Observant.

So Allen probably did it. As I scurried from the kitchen to the supply closet for paper towels I passed his desk. Everytime. Not once did he look up. Not once did he seem to be at all preturbed by the fact that every woman in the office was hustling to and fro from the kitchen in various states of disgust and coffee stainedness. I must confess to very uncharitable thoughts towards him.

OK, so maybe it was a mistake (and honestly, who could have done it on purpose), but as Maria (another helpful soul who immediately set down her empty mug to join in the coffee cleaning) said, 'who doesn't check the pot before they push the button? Couldn't they see that it was full?!'

Though I didn't really mind the work, especially once I had help, I do mind the obliviousness that such an incident implies. He was oblivious to the mistake, oblivious to the clean up, oblivious to every woman giving him death eyes all day. I hope that BJ made good on her threat to 'have a quiet word' with him, and that he is so mortified that he improves his behavior. But probably not.

My car got towed last night.

Ok, lets back up and encompass the whole story. Yesterday was the official last day in the old crappy apartment, everything was vacuumed, packed, moved, and keys were dropped off at the rental office. peachy. Actually it was rather exciting, I never have to be in that place again! YAY!

anyway, after finishing that up, I had a movie date with my mom and my cousin to see Julie & Julia, and yes, it is an awesome movie! See it!

After the movie I made the very sleepy trek back to the new apartment, parked at the first spot I saw and made my way to the 6th floor to collapse into bed.

This morning I went down to where I had left my car and it was gone. As were the cars that had been surrounding it. Apparently in my sleepy state I failed to notice the giant NO PARKING FIRE LANE signs, and just parked between the other two cars that were there. All 3 of us got towed.

So I talked to the guy at the front desk, he told me that, yes indeed I had been towed (and now I need a helpful comment!) and that I could pick it up at the impound lot and it would cost $100. suck.

However. Since moving and starting the new job, I have been threatening myself that I MUST start taking the bus to work. It costs $6 a day to park in the lot under my office and it costs $2.50 round trip to take the bus. Thats a worthwhile savings, wouldn't ya say?

My hesitation springs from the fact that (and here I will open myself to much ridicule), I have never taken the bus in my life. Oh sure, I took the school bus for 2 years in high school. And I've taken my fair share of airport shuttle buses, but never have I taken a public commuter bus. Ever.

And so my image of buses and people who ride them is taken solely from television and movies, where if they include a bus scene, its usually because there is a crazy person wearing a tin-foil hat and talking to himself. This I did not want to encounter. Really did not want to encounter.

But, with the towing, my hand was pretty much forced. And my lovely roommate (a veteran busser) offered to walk with me to the stop (down the block from our building) and make sure I got on the right bus and was pointed in the right direction.

I even managed to pull the thingy at the right time and get off across the street from my office, and I ended up being only 10 minutes late! despite the having to talk to the front desk guy at the apartment and figuring out the bus online and walking to the bus stop and freaking out that I would be accosted by a crazy person.

And in truth, there was a crazy-type person, who talked to himself the whole time. At first I thought he just had a speech impediment and a blue-tooth, but close examination of his head revealed no blue-tooth. But probably aliens. Anyway, I pretty much ignored him, except when he pointed out that I had dropped my cell phone (those aliens are perceptive). I thanked him, and even remembered to be polite and thank the bus driver.

All in all, I'm kind of OK. Yeah picking up my car is gonna suck (again, my only image of impound lots is taken from tv and movies, especially the scene in "In her Shoes" where Cameron Diaz is almost raped at an impound lot. Yikes!), but my dad will be with me and it will be daylight, and my dad is a pretty scary to people who dont know him, so the chances of me being raped are close to none (knock wood).

Anyway, thats been my morning. And honestly, I'm not that freaked anymore. I'm a little proud of myself for being so grown up about it (except for needing my daddy to protect me at the impound lot.... and needing my roommate to walk me to the bus stop...OK maybe not so grown-up after all...) and I really feel like everything will be OK, I will take the bus to work on Tuesday, and survive, and life will be hunky dorey. I hope.

PICS

Welp, thanks to Awesome Aunt Kay, I now know how to send pics from my phone to the internet and then post them here! so prepare to be amazed.

Pic #1: Killer outfit lady from the back in the kitchen. As you can see this is one of the purple outfits, and what you can't see is the gold accent pieces, shoes, bangles, long necklace, etc.

Pic #2: Killer outfit lady today. Sailor-type striped shirt with awesome ruffles. The missing elements are the cream pencil skirt and the skyscraper heels.

Pics #3 & 4: The Tat! The first one is right after it was done, hence the redness and the puffiness and the grossness. The one on the right is the tattoo today. Actually about 5 minutes ago thanks to this new and awesome technology!

Pic #5: To Finish, the cat trying to get into the refridgerator. Or as he thinks of it, "the magic box where yummy milk and super fun frozen ice cube toys come from!" And yes, he really is climbing into the fridge, onto the bottom shelf, and yes he does this every day. im not kidding.

Thank God for the Internet

...or i'd be really bored at work. example from today:

me: ok i have to tell you about my dream
you and me and lauren were living together and all sharing a bed, and we were all in bed and i was mad at you guys for playing wii without me, so i turned off the lights and rolled over to try to sleep
and you wanted me to not be annoyed with you so you elbowed me and rolled on top of me and fell asleep
and i was even more annoyed with you
and then i woke up still annoyed at you
but im not annoyed anymore, because it was a dream and you didnt actually roll on top of me last night
...right?
Carrie: hahahahaha
No Ariel, I actually got lonely in the middle of the night so I came over and rolled over on you
me: lol
what an image
you sneaking down the hall all tiptoe-y and rolling on top of me in bed
Carrie: I put a wig on you and I just laid there and spooned you
but I dunno how a wig to make you a guy would work
me: is that gay?
Carrie: not gay at all
How can that be gay if I pretend youre a man