Friday, September 28, 2007

Music: Tri-State Conspiracy - High-Strung Mess
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This morning was quite nice. I got my first good night's sleep all week (Claratin at night instead of during the day! Genius!), and when I got downstairs my mom was in a good mood and even made a new pot of coffee for me (our coffee maker is so amazing. It makes a full pot in under 3 minutes...it's friggin' ugly and looks like a turbine engine...but it's awesome). Chatted with her for a little bit and was reminded that my Pop-Pop is coming up from Florida tonight in preparation for next week's return trip to Nanticoke to see Great Grandpa Arthur. They're planning on doing a little bit of gardening around the site (Pop loves plants, so it's only fitting he should want to see his dad's grave all nice and green).

As usual, there's going to be a family get-together at my Aunt Jill's so everyone can see him...except for me. With the new babies around, me and my virus should probably stay away. Sucks for me, but it's probably for the best. In any case, the little sweater I made for Matthew will be handed over as an extremely early Christmas gift. I put enough time in to that thing that I wanna make sure he gets some use out of it.

Once I agreed with my mother that I'd sew the buttons on tonight it occurred to me to ask her a question that had been bugging me:
"Mom," I asked, "can you explain something to me? Why is it that just about every baby I see is always burried under like 40 layers of clothes and a blanket by early fall? Are babies like naturally cold or something? because I always see these kids bundled up like they're going to daycare in Siberia."
"I don't really know," she replied, "but I've noticed that too. It's nothing new, either. When you were a baby everyone was wrapping their kids up when the temperature was under 70. I don't understand why. Babies actually run hot since they don't sweat, so one would think they need less clothing."
She continued, "I never did that with you. You didn't get dressed in sweaters until late October and I always made sure you had light clothes for the Spring, Summer, and Fall. I almost never put a blanket in the stroller."

. . . . . . .

Let's fast forward to the present, and essentially every day since I've been dressing myself...
I'm now constantly trying to put myself under blankets, sweaters, hats and scarves by September and all I ever hear year round is "Aren't you hot? You can't possibly be cold!?"

Maybe there's something to dressing your baby like Ralphie's Little Brother from A Christmas Story after all...
This transmission logged byErisSaid on 10:21 AM

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Music: Regina Spektor - Us
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This is how I know I would not enjoy smoking marijuana.

Basically, the plague has descended on our office and now both Marilyn and myself are sick. Sadly, Marilyn is now suffering a full upper respiratory infection and is in really bad shape. Out of commission for a minimum of 5 days. I know I'm not that bad, I'm still sick enough that I cannot breathe without some kind of medicine. Apparently I must not have waited the full 24 hours before taking another Claratin yesterday because I was drowsy as hell. I think I actually fell asleep at one point (I was the only person in the office...no witnesses mean it may as well never have happened...except that I'm now telling the entire internet...damnit...)

Today I decided to see if maybe I was suffering from a cold rather than allergies...so I took the Tylenol Cold Daytime pills (the other day I told people I had taken this stuff. I was mistaken. It was the Claritin). I knew I couldn't take DayQuil because last time I did I started seeing like bats and shit flying around the room and basically living in my own private Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. That was not fun.

So now I'm here on these new cold pills and so bad with my reaction times and processing of information that I'm pissing myself off. It's like all the shit I find really irritating about stoners, except it's me doing it and I'm on completely legal over the counter meds.

Well. I guess being a complete dumbass until the stuff wears off is better than not being able to breathe...ohmigod I just zoned out for like five minutes after writing that sentence staring at my can of green tea...I hate being sick.

This transmission logged byErisSaid on 10:44 AM

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Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Music: The Fratellis - Baby Fratelli
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I had a very interesting morning. I was late for work again, but it was for a good reason.

I kept a very old doggy from straying too far from home. All very much a coincidence.

For one thing, I got kind of a late start. My father's car must have caught whatever it was made my car not start yesterday morning, and he was out in the driveway running his car, letting the battery charge after getting a jump from the guy he called...I don't know how that works, but I just kinda nodded my head and asked him to move. He did and I started toward the center of town instead of heading straight to work, since I wanted to stop at the apothacary for some cough drops.

I'm barely down the road when this dog comes trotting out of someone's yard, passing right infront of my car. I just kinda guessed that he was from that house, so I knocked and waited to see if anyone was home. The owner was, and thankfully it was her dog. She brought the old boy back across the street and was very nice to thank me. How couldn't I help? The dog was right there. But I guess some people would keep driving. The dog was nice too and let be scratch behind his ear. And I got there at just the right time too. How lucky was that, eh?

Still had to get my cough drops, so I was even later than I would have been post doggy assistance. But hey. I did a good thing and I'm not coughing my head off. Ricola cough drops are quite tasty as well.

This transmission logged byErisSaid on 11:37 AM

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Monday, September 17, 2007

Music: The Rapture - Pieces of the People We Love
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Lousy weekend, in a very petty sort of way.

I was denied a dog on Saturday, despite the fact that both my mother and I were totally in love with this little beagle/coon hound mix puppy. When we talked about it as a family, we realized that the second the dog peed on the floor Mom would go fucking balistic, which is no way to raise a puppy.

Got sick for no good reason Sunday afternoon. Then I kept working on the sweater I've been making for Matthew and realized...there is no way in hell this is gonna fit him. I't would fit little Ryan, but I was already making her a sweater. So now she gets two? What am I gonna make for Matthew? FUCK!

Then this morning, my car wouldn't start. Yippie fucking dee....

Sorry. I needed a bitchpost. When it rains it pours when it comes to my luck.

This transmission logged byErisSaid on 10:30 AM

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Friday, September 14, 2007

Music: Amy Winehouse - Love is a Losing Game
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Good with the bad.

I decided to be a punctual and upstanding citizen and take my car in for inspection nice and early this month so I don't get caught in the wave of procrastinators at the end of the month. I keep my car in good shape, so I was convinced that I'd be in and out of there in no time...

Not only did it take forever...I got rejected. And just to rub it in, there's a niiiice red sticker on my windshield with the word REJECTED on it just to make the message clear. And why did the old fart who checked my car fail me for? 1 crack in my left sideview mirror that doesn't mess up the reflection at all...Fantastic. I'd honestly forgotten there was anything wrong with the mirror, that's how unobtrusive the crack is. That and the cranky old bastard felt the need to roll my seat all the way back while he was in my car despite the fact that he's barely taller than I am. Asshole. I know this is the only way he can feel important and like he has some consequence in this world, but seriously, take it out on the guy who's rear passenger side door is held on my duct tape and hope. Not me.

Now I gotta get the part in and have the guys at the local auto body replace the glass. Thankfully, they didn't try to sell me a whole new mirror.

There is good news, though. I was jsut informed yesterday that I've been given a raise! Weee! Second home in Maui here I come! Or not. But still, every little bit helps. I've also compiled a list of law schools in my range of LSAT scores for this year's round of applications. There's like 20 and I can say I'd be willing to give a shot to at least 15 of them. Sending in Law School apps is not cheap, but hey! now I've got this bit of extra money to help me out with that.

This transmission logged byErisSaid on 10:47 AM

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how much of a raise?

# posted by  A : 9:58 AM

 

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Monday, September 10, 2007

Music: Mad Caddies - Good Intentions
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When I was growing up, I was not aware of just how odd my morning routine was to most people. I was completely unawares of this device called the "alarm clock," because I was always awoken by my mother.

Not usually in the form of nudging my shoulder until I opened my eyes. Or even coming in and flinging the blinds open so the light would get in my eyes. No no. My mother woke me up from the ground floor of the house every morning.

You see, while my mom is a big fan of having money to spend, she's a bit 50/50 on the whole "work" thing. So when she had a job she hated, which was most of my childhood, she would vent her early morning frustrations by stomping around the kitchen, making sure whatever she was putting away made plenty of clanging and clacking sounds, and (her favorite) slamming cabinet doors. This was my wakeup call every morning for about 10 years. I would wake up startled by a loud noise and once my heartrate had gotten back to normal I would get a start on my day. I had no idea that this was not normal.

Then she got a high paying, easy job, and my morning shocks to the system became less frequent. I was late to school more often as a result. By the time I got to college I had no idea what I was going to do to wake up...and then I discovered the beauty of the alarm clock. All the benefits of being woken up by a loud noise, without the sudden emotional jolt of knowing you've been roused by the sounds of barely restrained frustration and rage.

This morning, I got to relive the old days of waking to the sounds of my mother's temper tantrums. It fucking sucked. It's been less than a week and she's already decided that she hates this job, but won't even hear about quitting and looking for a new one. Because God forbid she make any kind of proactive move toward happiness in her life.

Seriously. If I ever get like this, please euthanize me. It's for everyone's own good.

This transmission logged byErisSaid on 10:24 AM

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