Idle Time

There is something that I've never quite understood since I've moved to the East Coast. Idling. Like idling one's engine for an extended period of time. And I'm not talking in the winter, because that would make sense; you want to make sure your engine is warm before you demand its complete obedience in the snowy months.

No, I'm talking about spring and summer and fall. I'm talking about sitting in one's driveway after returning home at 10, 11, 12 at night and letting the motor run for, say, half an hour. Sometimes it's 2am. I've been woken from a dead sleep by an idling engine. I'm sorry, but what the hell is that about?

It's not like I've never lived in a city and I just can't handle the noise. I've lived in the French Quarter, smack across the street from the cop shop that liked to wait to turn on their sirens at 4am until they were right in the middle of the intersection outside my bedroom window. I've lived in Denver and San Diego, for chrissakes. I can handle a little ambient city noise.

But for some reason, the one thing I cannot stand is an idling engine. I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's the anticipation. You keep waiting for the rev, for the eventual takeoff that follows the drone. And it never comes. Like a stifled yawn, you're left irritatingly unsatisfied.

My neighbors, of course, are the worst offenders. The ones to the right (with the driveway right outside my bedroom window) will arrive at 1am in the warmer months, turn up their ridiculously tuned stereos, and let the music and the engines blare for a good hour or more, while they talk and drink and smoke and sell drugs and god knows what. (This is the same building whose tenants will take to sledding down their personal, 2-foot-wide ice floe at 3 or 4 in the morning, laughing and shouting and whooping it up far too early on a wintry weekday...)

To my left (or, more technically, right behind my kitchen wall), are the motorcycle enthusiasts. Oh, how I loathe them. Princess Pink and Mr. Green. Yes, these nicknames refer directly to their choices of cycle and matching gear color. Of course, to be accurate, it should really be Mr. Neon Green. I'm sorry, do I sound bitter and judgmental?

Hmm, perhaps it's due to the fact that I have to listen to them idle in our building's driveway for a solid half-hour every time they return home. Um, what the hell? You warm the engine up before you go for a ride, not after. (But then, you don't warm it up at all in this heat...) What, pray tell, is the purpose? And must you blast that godawful southern rap while you do it?

I've never been a fan of motorcycles. True, I own a moped. But I only work on it during daylight hours and I kill the engine the moment I reach the driveway. There is no needless revving of motors, no irritating idle. I have more respect for my neighbors than that. 

And maybe that's what it all comes down to. Maybe, having grown up in the west, where the expansion was vast and the crowding of the metropolitan areas was slow, I feel bad about encroaching on my neighbors' auditory space. And maybe, having been crowded into the tiny sardine can of the original 13 for well over a century, Easterners just don't give a shit anymore.

Or maybe I'm just getting old...

Better Late Than Never

Another year, another attempt at producing some form of creative expression on a (somewhat) regular basis. And, of course, now that I've opened this lovely new blog post, I am drawing a complete blank. Figures.

So, I'll start with the boring basic stats. A mental tallying of my assets (or deficits), if you will.

I am, at this moment, thirty (and a half) years old. I have a sweet apartment in the middle of nowheresville where I live a peaceful existence with my cat. I work for an awesome safari company where I've recently been promoted to Information Administrator.

I have an AA and a BA under my belt (although what specific good they've done me I'm not entirely sure). And at some indeterminate point in the future I have a tenuous plan to return for my MA. However, as the idea of writing even one more academic paper still makes me queasy, that may happen later rather than sooner.

I have a close circle of friends in town with whom I have ridiculous, drunken adventures. And I have an extended family of friends that practically circumnavigates the globe. Not to mention the fact that my blood relatives and extended family are some of the most supportive and loving people on earth.

It seems I have arrived in that mystical, independent future of which I dreamed so feverishly in high school. I have my own place, I have a great job, I pay my bills (most of the time), no one tells me when to go to bed.

So... now what? Now that I'm a "grown-up," what do I do with the rest of my life?

I guess that's what this blog is going to help me figure out.

Crocheted Android

So you want to crochet your own Android figure? - http://pulsene.ws/Xlyb

Lost & Found

Seek Droid Is the Simplest Way to Find Your Lost Android Phone [Downloads] - http://pulsene.ws/Tr4b

Sundays in the Hammock

Every time I lounge in this thing, I can't help wondering what took me so freaking long to get one.

See the full gallery on posterous

It is, quite possibly, the best purchase I've ever made. This is a Hammock Bliss Ultralight which I found on Amazon for $30. Best part, they come with instructions for use...

I highly recommend you go out and get one in order take advantage of the last beautiful days of the season. I fully intend to spend every non-rainy Sunday rocking on my porch until the temp drops below 45. I'll take my blankie, some spiked coffee, my phone tuned to La Grosse Radio Reggae (which I also highly recommend) and while away the daylight hours contemplating my windchimes.

Which, of course, is what Sundays should be all about.

Happy Fall. Almost.

Just 1 more day.

 

I Resolve

Well, it’s that time again. Time to indulge in that time-honored tradition of making promises to myself that I will eventually break amid much cursing of my lack of will power. Of course, I have the best of intentions; it’s just that my self-disciplinary muscles are weak and flabby (which puts them in good company). All the more reason to flex them on this yearly occasion.

So, in that spirit, I resolve…

…to slow down and pay more attention. To myself, to my environment, to others. In short, to be more present in my life.
…to spend more time on self-examination and introspection. I am just beginning to understand this person that lives inside my head, but it is a delicate, complex and time-consuming process.
…to listen more. This really overlaps with the other two, but it deserves its own mention. I spend a lot of my life attempting not to hear things, and as a result, I miss out on a lot of good stuff.

And now that I’ve gotten the lofty and intellectual-sounding goals out of the way, I also resolve…

…to actually buckle down and write. Anything. Everything. Blogs, diaries, lists, notes, tweets, poems, short stories, and (gasp! dare I suggest it?) even a novel!
…to eat better and exercise.
…to get rid of all the crap that’s cluttering up my apartment (and my life)!
…to finally get my finances in order.
…to learn to play my guitar, damnit!
…to dance more.
…to laugh more.
…to never take myself too seriously.

Good luck with your own resolutions, and may all your dreams for 2010 come true.

Cupcakes

In an attempt to get into the holiday spirit, I made some cupcakes for my company’s holiday party. Luckily, they are a drinking bunch (I know I’m going to fit right in here), so I made spiked eggnog cupcakes. I found the recipe on Baking Bites, and you can access it here.

I substituted cognac for rum, but you could use bourbon or brandy, or whatever you like to put in your eggnog. These turned out incredibly moist and delicious and were a rousing success at the office. I highly recommend them to anyone attempting to make holiday inroads with a boozy neighbor or in-law.

Happy baking! And happy holidays!

Hopefull

You know, this is all so crazy, it just might work.

The computer is gone. Kaput. An incredibly expensive paperweight. And I lost a lot of personal data that was very dear to me. But... I'm not as broken up about it as I thought I'd be. Perhaps (just perhaps) it's time I learn to let go. Attatchments are the cause of suffering, isn't that what they say? (How very zen of me...)

Anyway, I have the new phone which allows me to do everything I need. And I have my awesome job, so I'll be able to afford a new computer eventually (and I no longer need to look for work--hurrah!).

And, you know, I'm happy here. I'm getting my place fixed up, learning to budget my time and money, and figuring out what's really important in my life.

Life is good.

Good Day

I love my new job. It's so nice to work somewhere normal again. I have normal hours, normal pay, heck, even normal coworkers. I had forgotten how awesome normal is. I'm still amazed at what a simple joy it is to come in, make myself a cup of tea, then sit at my desk (my desk) and go through my emails amid the gentle chatter of my arriving coworkers and the occasional quiet snuffling of the owner's dachshund.

Such a great day today. Even with my predecessor off to the maternity ward sooner than expected, and some fun, technical difficulties that took half the day to fix, working there is still heaven. And on my way home, I explored one of the Middle Eastern bakeries along Mt. Auburn called Sevan.

I bought falafel and hummus, dates, pistachios and jordan almonds. I even tried one of their dolmas, which the man behind the counter was kind enough to heat up for me; heaven! I can't wait to go back and try their baclava and buy some tubs of olives. Mmm, and so many varieties of Turkish delight! Yum.

And now, I'm home. The wind and rain beats against my windows while I enjoy my hummus and watch an old movie. I'll head to bed in a bit, get a good night's sleep, and do it all over again.

I can't remember the last time I was so happy with the everyday.

Fed Up

I am FED UP with my job. Fed up! (Can I say that a few more times?) I disliked it from day one, but I needed to eat, and move out, and pretend to be a contributing member of society, so it served a purpose. But now, now I just can't stand it anymore.

It was one thing when I thought I might get the assistant manager position that my best friend left behind when he left, but that carrot (indeed, the very position) has evaporated like so much morning mist (not to mix metaphors or anything...). And now it's been put to me that I might someday get the supervisory position which could replace it at some magical point in the future.

Which would not be so bad if, A) I believed this position would materialize some time this century, and B) that didn't mean I have to keep doing the work of the supervisors and managers at my current peon's pay in order to get it if it does.

I'm sorry, no. I'm done. I have to get the hell out of there.

Now.

Yesterday.

Anybody need an incredibly talented, efficient, charismatic, professional admin assistant? 'Cause I'm available.

Looking a Bit Forward

Seeing as how I can't sleep no matter how exhausted I am, I figured I might as well do something to keep my mind off the fact that the green goop in my lungs is keeping me from breathing. (Have I mentioned how I hate being sick?)

In my more energetic moments this weekend (which have sadly left me), I began construction on my Halloween costume. (Well, actually I began it last week, but I had only completed one little piece.) I think the description I'm going with is Victorian Masquerade.

The basic line up will consist of: chemise, corset, skirt, overskirt, stockings, boots, possibly spats, and, of course, a mask. There will also be accessories, like the collar shown below. In order to keep down costs, most of this stuff will be made out of crap that I already own but never wear.

Case in point, this chemise and collar were once a whole button-up shirt that has been sitting in my closet since January. But, with a little creative scissoring and some shirring (don't feel bad if you have no idea what I'm talking about here because I had to look up that term), I have a frilly top and a cute choker.

[Of course, I can't actually take any of the credit for this idea because I found it on ThreadBanger. They had a video tutorial on Steampunk attire (again, I had to look that up) that was very inspiring.]

And the corset (which you might be able to see a little better here) is something I wore for my wedding before it became a permanent fixture in my bureau. Thankfully, I had to take it in quite a bit to make it fit (woo-hoo!), and it still needs some sort of fabric covering. I have some pretty champagne jacquard that might look nice.

What I'm going to do about the skirts, I haven't quite decided. I think I have to spend some time scavenging the GoodWill outlet here in Boston. I tend to find good, cheap costume fodder there. Hopefully I'll be able to scrounge up some boots there, too.

I am also toying with the idea of a bustle (also to be found on the ThreadBanger video). I began playing around with the wire I got, but it will be awhile before I feel confident enough to post any pics.

The hardest part, tho, will be the mask, namely because it's the front piece and it will never look the way I intend it to look. The problem with working without a budget is that things can end up looking cheap. Hopefully, I've accumulated enough decorative junk in my lifetime that I can come up with something pretty cool.

I suppose we'll just have to wait and see.

Adulthood

This morning, I got up early, showered and dressed, made myself coffee, eggs and toast, fixed my lunch, did the breakfast dishes (including wiping down the stove), and got ready for work. And now I am spending a leisurely hour catching up on blogging and correspondence while listening to Josephine Baker and Edith Piaf.

My mornings usually run a bit more like this: I hit the snooze button four dozen times, scramble for clothes, decide I'll skip breakfast and buy lunch while standing in front of an open fridge and staring at the clock, and remember something crucial I left on my vanity while streaking for the bus.

I feel so grown up since I've been on my own. It's scary.

But good.

Serve & Protect

I had my first ride in a police cruiser today. Now, I know what you're thinking, "Finally! They've gotten that whack-job of the streets!" But it wasn't like that at all.

We're doing remote buy-back on campus this week, and we tend to walk back and forth from the store since it's not that far. Well, our whole slogan is "Cash for Books" so, as you can image, that entails carrying a fair load of cash back and forth.

Usually, this is done at the end of the day when all three of us get in the van to lug the purchased books back. But today, our police detail offered to have a cruiser take one of us back to the store with the bulk of the cash. Since I was leaving early today, that was me.

Now, I expected that I'd ride up front, I suppose because I don't see myself as the criminal type. And that's where the officer who escorted me was heading, until the officer behind the wheel jerked his thumb at the back seat, so that's where I ended up. 

Don't get me wrong, he was perfectly polite, but it was a little disconcerting sitting behind those bars (attempting to hide the store logo on the plastic bag in my lap) while being chauffeured around the Square by Cambridge's finest. Especially when the radio began to crackle.

Possible shooting. Suspects afoot. You could feel the tension jump. When my escort picked up the radio, my first thought was, He does know I'm still in the back seat, right? As he responded in some sort of affirmative, I wondered if he was going to turn on the siren and speed right past my drop point, as he had already gone the weird way around.

"I'm going to let you off here, okay?" he said, as he screeched to a halt at the entrance to the alley and leapt from the car to open my door. 

"Oh, sure, yeah, great!" I don't think he heard me. 

The lights and sirens were on before I could get the door closed. And off he sped, to serve and protect.

Case In Point

I am so easily distracted by my electronics.

I Love Technology

It is at once the boon and bane of my existence. It allows me to do so many things. And in so doing, keeps me from doing so many things.

I was exploring Twitter today. Very interesting. 

So many little things to integrate.

I love it when things dovetail.

I'm such a nerd.

Why?

I have the job that I have because I was desperate to get into Boston. I love my parents, but I just had to get out on my own again. So I caved and took a retail position that I am totally overqualified for. Now that I've gotten my yearly raise, I make a whole dollar over Massachusetts minimum wage. Next year, if I'm good, I might be in line for another whole quarter per hour raise.

Now, once I was in Boston (or thereabouts) I figured I'd find another job that was a little more along the lines of my general talents and abilities. Unfortunately, that was the exact moment at which the economy took a nose dive. The fifty or so Craigslist ads per day which I had been perusing in New Hampshire went down to three. Businesses closed, companies conducted layoffs, and everyone (even in my ridiculously profitable industry) went around whispering "Recession!" as if it were some sort of charm.

Not only that, but I had the brilliant idea that I would go back to school to escape this nightmare of an employment future. When I told my bosses that I would need to go down to part-time, they recommended I just cut back to 30 hours so I could keep my benefits and it would be less likely that I would be seen as some fat to trim when the budget got tight. Okay, makes sense, so I stupidly agreed.

Fast forward four months. I have just a week and half to finish and revise a 10-page research paper for one class and create from scratch a final project for another. I also have to make up for some time I needed last week for the aforementioned paper which I took out of my regular work schedule. So, I'm working 36 hours this week (and dodging guilt trips at work for not offering more of my time during their busiest season) and I will not be able to get everything finished. 

I would lament that I should have simply gone down to part-time anyway, but the only other part-timer in my department has already been let go, so that probably would have ended badly. I would have simply gotten another job, but I don't have the time to even look, let alone interview. 

What am I supposed to do? Why is it that this country does not believe in investing in the future of its workforce? Why wasn't I born in Sweden so I could go to school for free and with government help for room and board? Why is it that the suffering I experienced this semester has to be drawn out into the decades it's going to take me to pay off my loans?

What the hell, man?

So Many Videos, So Little Time

I should be working. I have been working. For the last 10 hours straight before I slept. But one's brain can only focus on the gothic, and thereby horrific, implications of Joyce Carol Oates for so long before one must break for something lighthearted and utterly frivolous. 

Luckily, the internet is FULL of that sort of stuff. You can't go very far without stumbling across it. Or, in my case, you're cruising Facebook and you click on a link which takes you to YouTube where you see a video advertised that reminds you of one you saw two years ago and you spend a moment searching for that video only to find that--ta da!--it's still there, and it still makes you laugh.

I love the internet.

Cats Are Queer Articles

My kitty and me have an agreement: I keep her in tuna, and she keeps her cute little yap shut. More often than not, it is me that forgets the deal. Her favorite time to remind me of this is first thing in the morning. 

She has this uncanny ability to sense the exact moment when my consciousness hovers closest to the surface. She usually sits approximately 2 millimeters from my nose (or eyeball) and mews quietly at an ever increasing pitch until it is impossible for me to do anything but get up and rectify the situation. It feels something like this:

Although she has not used a baseball bat on me yet, I suspect she knows where she can lay her paws on one.

I was a particularly good human the other day, though, and was rewarded accordingly. I came home from work to find that the critter's food dish was empty. She was doing the usual belly-up wiggle dance to inform me of this fact. I filled the dish and waited for her to signal her approval.

She went over to the dish, gave it a cursory sniff, and when she looked up at me I could hear her thinking, "You boob!" She did an about face, marched over to the fridge, and plopped down at the edge of the door. She stared plaintively at the door and then glanced at me with a look that said, "You know the good stuff is in here, bozo."

Playing the good pet, I dutifully retrieved the open can of tuna and filled her tuna saucer. Andromeda oversaw the whole operation, and I know she must have been pleased at my speed and efficiency. Usually she scolds me for the unbearable amount of time it takes to get the fish from the can to her dish, but this time she never let out a single sound!

Am I well trained, or what?

A New Start

So. A new name, a new place, a new life. A new start.

I wish I were as confident about new beginnings as I had been at 18. Or at 20. It's amazing what a decade will do...

So far on this little adventure, things have been going well. Slow... but well. I must say I'm anxious to really get out there and live my own life for once. Unfortunately, circumstances dictate that I must begin at square one. I have no money, no job, and no place of my own. I live, as at 18, at the mercy of my parents, who have been quite merciful indeed.

Don't get me wrong. I love my parents. They have been generous and supportive and wonderful. But I like to think of myself, at least in my more phlegmatic moments, as an adult. It's disappointing to think that I've lived all this time, invested a great deal of effort, and the life that I had carved out for myself fell apart.

And why, I'd like to know, have I grown as a human being and shed the beneficial attributes of youth yet retained some of the more troublesome ones? How can I have lost the brazen confidence and reckless fearlessness while continuing to cling to impatience and impracticality? It's just not fair, I tell you.

Oh, well. I suppose if life has taught me anything thus far, it is that the universe seems to operate in patterns, even if I cannot step back far enough to appreciate the big picture, and as long as I behave and don't eat too many cookies before bed time, all will be made clear in the end.

Still, I hate waiting...