Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Just When I Was Feeling Accomplished . . .
I was feeling pretty proud of myself for a relatively productive day. I'd finished painting the closet (primer and two coats of color), I'd done a little clever re-arranging in the laundry room (rearranging that involved the use of a cordless drill, so handy of me!), I'd put up a hook by the fireplace so that my bellows wasn't just laying on the carpet all the time. I was even installing some new weatherstripping on my back door when my neighbor stopped by to ask if I'd be willing to housesit once in awhile. Since I've noticed he has DishNetwork, my answer was a HELL YES! And then he pointed to some long-ass pieces of wood that have been stacked by my house since the aborted siding project of this summer and casually asked if I needed to put those away before they got ruined by the weather. Shit. YES. I DO need to put them away if I don't want them to be useless by spring. But . . . I'd kind of just decided . . . I didn't really care and wasn't going to do anything about it since did I mention they're REALLY long and cumbersome and a pain in the ass to move not to mention there's a hell of a lot of them and the only place to really put them is on some shelves below the ceiling of the carport which requires some really awkward maneuvering. But. Fuck. I've been shamed.
I am Not a Perfectionist
This is not a new revelation, but every once in awhile it strikes me afresh. I mean you all know this about me, especially if you're a former co-worker. But all these little home-improvement projects I've signed up for . . . yeah.
One of the many projects that my uncle began (and really, "began" is the operative word here) when he was here last time was the creation of a real, honest to goodness, coat closet. It was a great idea. This house has NO closets. Of any kind. But under the stairs there was this area that vaguely resembled a closet, in that it was kind of tucked away and had its own light. But it wasn't walled in, so anything you stacked under the stairs, was visible from everywhere in the living room, sort of defeating the purpose of a closet (which is to let you throw crap somewhere it can't be seen and therefore can be forgotten.) Anyway, my uncle took down the shelves which were in the living room sort of shielding some of the crap under the stairs from view, stacked everything that was on the shelves in my dining room, took out all the outlets and switches and lights, walled in this space with drywall, and bought a door to put on it, and my very kind and helpful neighbor came down and put on the first couple of layers of mud to smooth the walls. And then my uncle left. So for the last month I've had this unfinished useless closet where there formerly was a very functional, if ugly storage space. Sigh. My carpet has been rolled away from the wall, my couch has been in the middle of the living room, and the bookshelves that used to be outside the closet are sitting out in the carport making it impossible to park my car there (they're really big shelves), and my dining room is full of boxes of crap that really belongs in a closet, unseen.
The big hold-up in finishing this closet, is that the living room bookshelves can't get put up until the walls are painted. And the walls really shouldn't be painted until they're textured to match the rest of the living room. Which is a messy job, and mixing mud is a pain in the ass. So today I finally said "fuck it". I don't like the texture on the rest of the walls anyway. The closet walls are smooth enough. I'll paint them, and I'll get the neighbor down to help me put the shelves back up, and it will be FINE. And, more importantly, finished.
So yeah, I'm not even a proponent of "the perfect is sometimes an enemy of the good". I'm really more a "why bother reaching for good, when with a little less effort you can achieve good enough" kind of girl.
One of the many projects that my uncle began (and really, "began" is the operative word here) when he was here last time was the creation of a real, honest to goodness, coat closet. It was a great idea. This house has NO closets. Of any kind. But under the stairs there was this area that vaguely resembled a closet, in that it was kind of tucked away and had its own light. But it wasn't walled in, so anything you stacked under the stairs, was visible from everywhere in the living room, sort of defeating the purpose of a closet (which is to let you throw crap somewhere it can't be seen and therefore can be forgotten.) Anyway, my uncle took down the shelves which were in the living room sort of shielding some of the crap under the stairs from view, stacked everything that was on the shelves in my dining room, took out all the outlets and switches and lights, walled in this space with drywall, and bought a door to put on it, and my very kind and helpful neighbor came down and put on the first couple of layers of mud to smooth the walls. And then my uncle left. So for the last month I've had this unfinished useless closet where there formerly was a very functional, if ugly storage space. Sigh. My carpet has been rolled away from the wall, my couch has been in the middle of the living room, and the bookshelves that used to be outside the closet are sitting out in the carport making it impossible to park my car there (they're really big shelves), and my dining room is full of boxes of crap that really belongs in a closet, unseen.
The big hold-up in finishing this closet, is that the living room bookshelves can't get put up until the walls are painted. And the walls really shouldn't be painted until they're textured to match the rest of the living room. Which is a messy job, and mixing mud is a pain in the ass. So today I finally said "fuck it". I don't like the texture on the rest of the walls anyway. The closet walls are smooth enough. I'll paint them, and I'll get the neighbor down to help me put the shelves back up, and it will be FINE. And, more importantly, finished.
So yeah, I'm not even a proponent of "the perfect is sometimes an enemy of the good". I'm really more a "why bother reaching for good, when with a little less effort you can achieve good enough" kind of girl.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Sociability
The main reason I got a job wasn't to ease financial pressure, or to finance trips to Alabama that I no longer need to take, it was to give myself a chance, meagre though it might be, at a social life that wasn't entirely dependent on some form of long distance communication. It's hard to make friends, or even acquaintances, as adults. It's even harder when you don't take a class, volunteer, have a job, or have any other reason to see the same people on a regular enough basis to learn their names.
I haven't really had a chance to feel isolated here. I had all that family staying with me, I had trips to look forward to, I had this bizarre long distance relationship taking up a (definitely too large) place in my emotional life. But I could see the very real possibility of lonliness setting in with the snow and the cold of a mountain winter. So I got a job.
Last night I went out for a drink with two girls from work. They're both 26, funny, and interesting. In the bar, between them, they knew 80% of the people there. And it was pretty crowded. In spite of feeling very very aged (don't even get me started on the lectures on how to stalk MySpace cuties I got from one of them while killing time at work), I had a good time. We talked about Christmas trees, and going out for sushi next Friday (yes, you can get sushi in the inter-mountain west . . . and yes, I agree that this is not necessarily a good plan but . . .) And I felt, like maybe, if I really try, and I master my anti-social tendencies, I could cobble together some sort of social life here. Right around the time that I run out of money and have to move.
I haven't really had a chance to feel isolated here. I had all that family staying with me, I had trips to look forward to, I had this bizarre long distance relationship taking up a (definitely too large) place in my emotional life. But I could see the very real possibility of lonliness setting in with the snow and the cold of a mountain winter. So I got a job.
Last night I went out for a drink with two girls from work. They're both 26, funny, and interesting. In the bar, between them, they knew 80% of the people there. And it was pretty crowded. In spite of feeling very very aged (don't even get me started on the lectures on how to stalk MySpace cuties I got from one of them while killing time at work), I had a good time. We talked about Christmas trees, and going out for sushi next Friday (yes, you can get sushi in the inter-mountain west . . . and yes, I agree that this is not necessarily a good plan but . . .) And I felt, like maybe, if I really try, and I master my anti-social tendencies, I could cobble together some sort of social life here. Right around the time that I run out of money and have to move.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Expensive
Working at a spa when it's slow is kind of expensive. There were only three appointments all damn day, and once I'd done all my little routine tasks, and done as many non-routine tasks as I could think of . . . I mostly just chatted with the therapists and . . . bought stuff and scheduled treatments for myself. Even with my discount, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to break even when this is all said and done. Oh well. At least I'll have well-cut and shiny deep-conditioned hair and plenty of fancy face creams.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Tragedy
I sent a box of CDs and DVDs to my mom via media mail while I was preparing to leave DC, and it never arrived. I keep discovering new things that I'm missing. The latest discovery . . . While You Were Sleeping and About a Boy. I love those movies. Those are my main, go-to comfort movies. This is truly a tragedy. If I'd just noticed yesterday, I could have picked up new copies while I was down in Boise. I guess this requires a trip to Amazon. I'm so disappointed. I wanted to watch a double feature while folding laundry and putting up curtains. Sigh. I guess this means I have to go to the back-ups Notting Hill and Ever After.
ETA: I'm also missing Bridget Jones. This is getting expensive. HATE the post office.
ETA: I'm also missing Bridget Jones. This is getting expensive. HATE the post office.
Uncontrolled Email Checking
Ok, so the Relationship is dead as a fucking doornail as I mentioned yesterday. And I'm really not all that torn up about it. I'm sad, because we did really click, but I'm also sort of . . . relieved I guess because, as Zach keeps reminding me, spinsterhood gets a really bad rap, and a big part of me believes it really is my natural state, and when a relationship ends I always sort of sigh as the stress of NOT being a spinster melts away. I like cats. I read old-lady books. I like living by myself. I love gossipping with my fellow old biddies. I haven't managed to maintain a romantic relationship for more than three months since I was 19. Come on, the evidence is pretty damn overwhelming.
So why do I keep checking my email every 5 minutes? I know he's not going to write. I don't expect him to. Dead as a fucking doornail. But the pre-breakup pattern remains. So . . . I had this BRILLIANT money-making idea. And I'm sending it out free over the internet so someone with the skills can actually develop it. Someone needs to create some sort of software that could be installed that would allow a computer user to access any websites they choose at only pre-determined intervals. Now, a little google search produced this software, but it's for KIDS and doesn't do quite what I have in mind. Surely someone could create something similar for adults! And think of the marketing opportunities! Businesses would love it, internet addicts, the recently broken up . . . I tell you, a gold mine.
So why do I keep checking my email every 5 minutes? I know he's not going to write. I don't expect him to. Dead as a fucking doornail. But the pre-breakup pattern remains. So . . . I had this BRILLIANT money-making idea. And I'm sending it out free over the internet so someone with the skills can actually develop it. Someone needs to create some sort of software that could be installed that would allow a computer user to access any websites they choose at only pre-determined intervals. Now, a little google search produced this software, but it's for KIDS and doesn't do quite what I have in mind. Surely someone could create something similar for adults! And think of the marketing opportunities! Businesses would love it, internet addicts, the recently broken up . . . I tell you, a gold mine.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Obituary
Yesterday was pretty great in a lot of ways. I did just what I planned and sat by the fire reading books (and watching a little TV, YAY!) for most of the day. But I also got caught up with several friends on the phone (Hi Another DC Lawyer!) and did just enough clearing up of construction detritus to make me not want to throw up every time I look around my living room. (I still feel a little queasy, but it's bearable.)
In sadder news, I'm sorry to announce that after a brief illness, the new long-distance Relationship I was in died yesterday. The cause of death was determined to be lack of care and feeding and, well, insurmountable distance. Poor Relationship! The wake was sparsely attended via AOL, and the dear departed was interred in my gmail archive late last night. In lieu of flowers, friends of the bereaved are encouraged to send themselves, c/o "Corina".
In sadder news, I'm sorry to announce that after a brief illness, the new long-distance Relationship I was in died yesterday. The cause of death was determined to be lack of care and feeding and, well, insurmountable distance. Poor Relationship! The wake was sparsely attended via AOL, and the dear departed was interred in my gmail archive late last night. In lieu of flowers, friends of the bereaved are encouraged to send themselves, c/o "Corina".
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