The Freckled Diaries

Strange Days

Ever had one of those days that bizarre happenings surround you and you have no control over them?

It's almost impossible for me to get into any of it here, because I've dedicated this as a gossip free zone (one of the only ones in my life) and I'm going to stick with it.  Not because I'm above gossip, mind, just that I don't feel the need to get caught in the act of gossipmongering. Never put anything in writing that you wouldn't want your boss, spouse or mother reading on the front page of the New York Times.  And for me, I wouldn't care if the information (and holy jesus is there a lot of it, from like a bazillion areas of my life) was on the front page, but I would care if it was "Catherine M blabs that....".

So yes.  The bar has been buzzing, and not just with my tidbits. It seems to be in the water.

::Self Censored Complaining about School Project::

And finally, I have long had the rule that my romantic life (such as it is) won't be on here either, mainly because I know someone who got burned that way (went on a great date, wrote a blog about it, guy got freaked/pissed and dumped her).  So that leaves my current blogging life quite sparse, because really all I've got going is gossip, bitching and swoonyness.  So this blog is all about complaining about the weather, documenting my domestic pursuits, giving general, non-interesting updates about life and butchering the English language with words like "swoonyness".  Sorry folks, that's just how it's got to be sometimes. 

Ask and ye shall receive, demand and ye shall receive faster

It topped out at 63 today.  I went out in tweed and wool.  I noticed some leaves that were neither green nor dead, possibly for the first time since I've lived in this godforsaken place.  The sun gave us a break.  It is finally fall.  We had a 20 degree drop literally overnight (the day before topped out at eighty-fucking-five).  Today's high was yesterday's low.  I am appeased, for the moment at least.  I won't trust that this will last.  I need a week's proof.  If I can go to the farmers' market tomorrow and buy apples and pumpkins and squashes without feeling like an impostor, that will help.

Spent the day sweating out a fever on the couch.  Felt miraculously better at about 3pm.  Figures.  3pm on Friday, too late to do anything of substance but early enough to still go out.  My body is SUCH a slacker.  Went to a birthday party in "North Old Town" as I believe they call it--the area with the ugly 70s/80s era highrise apartment buildings and hotels.  The bar/restaurant is cute though--a little retro 50s theme and a decent menu.  We used to go there to hang out after ceramics class way back when but there really isn't much point in going to that part of town unless you live up there so I haven't really been there in a while.

Anyway, after the birthday party I met up with some folks at Pat Troy's which was fun as always and now I'm here.  Awake, and full of energy well past last call.  Sometimes sleeping all day really doesn't do you any favors.

Tomorrow is market day, and then Library of Congress to finally get that book from reserve.  I've been meaning to do that for weeks.  Then Saturday night, who knows?  All my friends either have obligations, colds or are out of town.  I want to go back to Troy's because my buddy Rocky is playing but who knows?  Sunday is Renaissance Festival and then....I don't know. Family time?

I just wish I wasn't so awake.  Or that I'd gone out earlier.  I feel like my night has barely begun and in reality....everything's closed :(

I've Been Robbed

 

"O suns and skies and clouds of June,

And flowers of June together,

Ye cannot rival for one hour
October's bright blue weather."

 

"The harvest moon hangs round and high
It dodges clouds high in the sky,
The stars wink down their love and mirth
The Autumn season is giving birth.
Oh, it must be October
The leaves of red bright gold and brown,
To Mother Earth come tumbling down,
The breezy nights the ghostly sights,
The eerie spooky far off sounds
Are signs that it's October.
The pumpkins yellow,. big and round
Are carried by costumed clumsy clowns
It's Halloween - let's celebrate."
-   Pearl N. Sorrels, It Must be October

"O hushed October morning mild, 
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall; 
Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all. 
The crows above the forest call; 
Tomorrow they may form and go. 
O hushed October morning mild, 
Begin the hours of this day slow. 
Make the day seem to us less brief. 
Hearts not averse to being beguiled, 
Beguile us in the way you know. 
Release one leaf at break of day; 
At noon release another leaf; 
One from our trees, one far away."

 -   Robert Frost, October

"There is no season when such pleasant and sunny spots may be lighted on, and produce so pleasant an effect on 
the feelings, as now in October." 
-  Nathaniel Hawthorne

 

"Youth is like spring, an over-praised season more remarkable for biting winds than genial breezes.  
Autumn is the mellower season, and what we lose in flowers we more than gain in fruits."
-   Samuel Butler   

"October is nature's funeral month.  Nature glories in death more than in life.  The month of departure 
is more beautiful than the month of coming - October than May.  Every green thing loves to 
die in bright colors."
-   Henry Ward Beecher

I'm so over this.  If I weren't so sick right now (and getting worse, I can feel it moving up my throat and bet it will be in the dreaded sinuses by morning) I'd be planning a weekend trip to someplace with Real Autumn.  Our poor leaves are just singeing in this sun and heat.  No yellow, no red, no orange.  Just brown and to the ground with them.  

Also, just looking at the housing options pretty much everywhere (besides New York) that's Not Here, it's looking like a temping plan indeed to just up and move once my degree is done.  And no, I wouldn't be moving just for or because of the weather.  Only heat-seekers do that, the crazy bastards.  It's just the combination of my general incompatibility with city life, my loathing of the weather about 65% of the time, and mild tolerance of it 33% of the time (leaving roughly 7 days out of the year that I think "hey, it's nice out"), the outrageous cost of living here and the fact that my future career is (theoretically) highly mobile (though I now kind of have my heart set on the Library of Congress)...it's just time to move on, probably.  

The one and only factor that is so hard to get around is the life I've made for myself here.  It IS a good life full of friends, family, an awesome neighborhood and tons of things to do all the time.  But it is, an expensive life on the wrong side of the Mason-Dixon Line and constantly 10 degrees too warm in too-close proximity to a too-large city (do you know the closest safe swimming hole is almost all the way in West Virginia because of all the runoff from suburban sprawl?).  

I don't really want to have to start it all over again, and I do have a great deal going on here.  Oh, it's just so hard.  What is it in The Geography of Bliss?  I left my copy in Alaska so I can't look it up.  Some term, or theory about happiness being related to how you "fit" your surroundings, and that some people just really do belong in northern Canada, and others really are meant to be Australian....oh, I don't know.  I'm meant for somewhere where October doesn't feel like June.  And not my concept of what those months "should" be...but really truly, what June WAS.

I will stop complaining eventually.  Probably when we get below 65.  Which at this rate ought to be sometime in mid-February.

The mundane, or the sublime?

Updates from the Freckle household include:

• They delivered a refrigerator yesterday but it is too big, and no it's not my own bias against monster-fridges...the Lowes delivery guy said so himself.  I took video, I'll share it when I'm less under-the-gun assignment-wise.
• I am hurriedly finishing The Future of the Past, a great book that I'll be re-reading once I have a little more time to spend with it but as of now need to finish and write a report on it by this time tomorrow.
• Toby, my genius cat, is on the top shelf of my coat closet.  I'm not entirely sure how he got up there and he's not entirely sure how he will be getting down.  He has refused my offers of help, preferring instead to meow and look at the floor, where sits Penny who is, I'm sure, taunting him mercilessly.  

That's pretty much it.  Just another Monday, I suppose. 

Progress

The hole in the floor is as fixed as it's going to be, and I believe that a new refrigerator has been ordered.  I'm still a little miffed that I could have taken care of the fridge thing on my own, overnight and possibly for cheaper but was denied but...eh.  They can do what they want to do. My poor tummy is getting really ill from all the takeout (fridge is now blocking the stove with nowhere else to go as the floor settles into it's new fixed state) and it's really frustrating to not have cold anything.  

I sprang (sprung?) my wee minions from kitty prison and they spent the afternoon running around the apartment wide eyed and jumpy as hell.  They appear to understand that this is "home", thanks largely to the presence of their cat tree, where they are both currently perched and cleaning each other.  Toby, for all of his jumpiness (he honest to god jumps at the sight of his own shadow) has actually been quite bold.  He's led the charge whenever I've opened up a new room for exploration and was the first to perch on the front windowsill and watch life go by (Penny is a bit scared of it--the busses are quite loud). He spent ages up there and I can tell it will wind up being his second favorite spot (nothing will beat the top of the cat tree though). So if you're ever on the 800 block of Prince and see a Siamese in a window say hi to dear Toby.  They neither of them appreciate having someone living above us, and whenever the neighbor walks up there they run for cover.  They'll get used to it.

Also, the report from the vet is positive.  Besides Penny's few extra pounds and the need for them to have a teeth cleaning they are both in fine health and totally up to date with everything. Go me. This is also the first time they've spent more than that one day at this new vet (which doubles as a kennel).  The reports were entirely, and overwhelmingly positive--for Penny in particular.  They said that she was just a joy to have around, and so sweet and a pleasure etc, just exactly how she is with me at home. So to all you who think she's a bitch: pbbbbth, maybe you're just mean to her (or maybe you stepped on her tail once and she hates you forever now). I was fully expecting to hear that they were all in love with Toby and that Penny "had her moments" but no. They love her and want to keep her. They loved Toby, too and said that they spent a lot of the day "talking" to each other through their cell walls and playtime cleaning and cuddling each other and coming up to the vet tech for scratches and cuddles (and Penny apparently kept crawling into her lap for tummy rubs).

Unpacking hasn't happened for a few days because I had a huge workload for school (and still do actually) but my goal is to have it all done in 10 days time, and then paint, and then hang stuff so.....2 weeks from today to be done done done?  I don't know.  We'll see what happens.

"You Look Tired"

So says the chorus of my fellow Wednesday night folks. And they are right.  I look haggard and feel like a woman twice my age. I probably grew my first gray hairs in this past week, and not from the stress...like I said that's all still relatively low level except for a few short lived freakouts.  

Did I mention that after all the refrigerator/hole in floor drama I had to go to class and along the way discovered a flat tire? If this isn't what being smited (smote?) is like, I don't know what is.

And now I'm off to sleep.  Big day tomorrow full of crushing deadlines.  October, what did I ever do to you?

Of Freezers and Floorboards

Dear Reader, 

I do believe that I am being tested.  My mother and aunt pulled the refrigerator (which, by the way, stopped working and defrosted itself leaving a puddle of water under itself) away from the wall to access the electrical outlet to plug in the microwave.  And then my mother's foot punched through the floorboard, nearly to the basement.

Years of defrosting freezers (between tenants the electricity is turned off) has rotted the wood beneath the fridge to such an extent that I personally am surprised it holds the weight of the fridge.  And it's moldy.

And because I can be...oh what's a nice word...I suppose there isn't one so let's stick with "a neurotic anxiety ridden freak", I somehow convinced myself that it was the Toxic Black Mold and not only was it going to get me sick but it was going to kill the kitties upon their return from kitty prison.  I tried calling the lady that my vacationing landlords put in charge and her response was that they'll be back on the 10th.  Immediately the panic spiral started, and calls to mold experts, tears and eventually stress induced vomit.  Fun times.  

I called her back reiterating just how bad it is, and that I couldn't stay there that night and to please, please do something.  So she's sending the handyman today and I spent the night at my Uncle Terry and Aunt Karen's house, where I remain this morning, doing schoolwork and waiting for the call saying that the handyman is on his way.

So that's that.  Hooray.

Moving Update

Well, it's mostly done, the moving part anyway.  Everything went mostly smoothly except for the procuring of moving boxes which was.....well, the less said about that night the better.  Overall, the vast, vast majority of the time on a scale of 0 to 100, my stress level generally stayed between say, a 2 and a 7.  Except for when it wasn't, at which points it was at a level of roughly 847, complete with public meltdown and verbal familial abuse and the arrival at the conclusion that I'd just rather burn all my stuff and start over again (this was the boxes night). Not my best moment.

I'd say the new house is about 40% unpacked already, and the furniture is more-or-less in the positions I'm going to keep it in.  I absolutely cannot stand my new kitchen--it's just a terrible terrible layout and a huge headache to unpack and organize.  That, and all the cords which I will address in a moment, are what made it quitting time last night.  Today we're going to move some things around, go to the hardware store and rig something for pots and pans, and possibly buy a dining room hutch to store my dishes because their current location necessitates a step ladder and the spine-unfriendly reach and twist and lift.  It's just a nightmare.

Now to the cords.  I hate cords.  They are everywhere and I swear they breed. I don't know what most of them go to and they get all tangled and bunched and are just little balls of stress and I just can't stand them.  Now, I'm going to figure out which I need and which I don't and either put them to use or throw them out.  Once that is accomplished, the following policy will be in effect: If you bring a cord into my house, I will strangle you with it and then use it to hang you from my doorway as a warning to others who may think I need an extension cord/longer cable/wireless router (which...irony?  to set up a wireless network you need THREE wires attached to your computer tangling their way around your ankles).  THIS is the warning, there will be no more.

Beyond the box drama, the impossible kitchen and the cord freakout things are going just fine. Boxes are being opened, emptied and their contents (mostly) put away. I'm finding that, apparently, I haven't looked into some bags/boxes since the last move (3 years ago), which is....odd.  I'm trying to get used to the new sounds that come with this place (pipes, neighbors, creeks, cars etc).  It's an odd time, the first few days in a new house.

Oh, and you may be pleased (?) to know that I still have the Scariest Basement in America. It's a whole other beast than the one at 216 Prince. Funny video of me influencing my cousin to check it out down there will follow one of these days, if the camera cord hasn't been eaten by the other ones.

Books and Moving Galore

So it's that time.  Yes, finally after nearly two full months of trouble and strife (and three years of living in this apartment), I'm packing up and moving out.  I still have mixed feelings on the subject but won't linger too long on the bad because honestly I have the night before Christmas feeling about the whole deal--I'm really looking forward to the new place.  I suppose my desire to stay is tied up with a lot of "ifs".  If my neighbors didn't suck, if my landlord wasn't a jerk (I didn't like the neighbors or the landlord for a good long while before all this), if a whole bunch of other things.  Basically, I love this physical space and geographic location but I really don't like all the BS that comes along with it.

So anyway.  Moving.  Sunday is packing day, Monday is moving day. 

Today is a busy day that I'm going to have to get done on no sleep (I'm a difficult sleeper to begin with--stress and an almost totally flexible work and school schedule does nothing to help that fact).  I have to: drop the kitties off at the vet where they will remain until about Thursday (depending on how fast I get the place painted).  I also want to meet with the vet about various and sundry issues I have--namely the fact that she's now terrified me that I've gone and given them heartworm and I'm scared and that they are due for a teeth cleaning but I'm scared of anesthesia which is apparently necessary for the teeth cleaning experience.  Then, I'm off to the National Book Festival which (a) I want to go to because a favorite author of mine is going to be there and (b) I have to go for a class assignment (long story from History of the Book and author-reader interactions and public performances of literary works etc).  That's from 10-2.  At 3 or so, my mom will be in town and we're going to get packing supplies and bring them on up here.  I then plan to attack my desk drawers and my pile of Very Important Mail. 

Then I move, then I unpack and paint, then hang stuff and then my life is back to normal.  Oh and I have two assignments for school due next week.  Joy.

More on books.....

Last night, I went to what I dubbed the "nerdiest of nerd events", the Washington Rare Book Group's "Rare Book Roadshow", which is basically Antiques Roadshow but for rare books and produced for Book Guys--NPR's book show.  I'm not entirely sure I could have made that sentence nerdier if I tried.  We all know that I mean nerd in it's jovial, positive connotation, right?  Let's hope.  Anyway....it was good fun, honestly.  I didn't bring a book of my own for two reasons really:  first, I'd kind of automatically figured that I didn't have anything worth bringing and didn't want to look like the dumb girl who just brought any old or dusty book wanting to hear that it was worth a fortune.  Second, if I had given it a second thought I may have brought a book just in case but was highly distracted because I was busy straightening up for and then making a YouTube video of my (currently dusty and cluttered) apartment.  It's as good as it's going to get--and I even ventured down into scary, scary basement! 

Anyway, about the Rare Book Roadshow--it was really a good time and I met some good people, heard some good stories and got to hang out after-hours in the National Museum of Natural History (which is where we met).  No one else from my class went which was a little surprising because people seemed really into the idea but that's their loss I guess. 

And finally, before we get to the YouTube links, oh! Dear Reader, there is much else going on in my little world and I'm kind of stupidly giddy about the whole thing but I don't really dare write much more because...well I don't know why. But, :)

So here's the apartment in all it's hastily spruced up from the moving mess glory (and scary scary basement):

Better or Worse?

Feeling a bit better about the whole horribleness but do really wish I could have just had this over and done with like a band aid.  Made executive decision: everything is being organized as it's being UNpacked because (a) ground floor vs 4th floor (b) no time constraints besides own desire to unpack (c) mother and friends and more family helping on the unpacking side (d) the movers are a flat rate anyway, so who really cares?  Made further executive decision: if landlords/painters are here and the place is full of dust bunnies and untidy piles of mail and clothes: who cares?  Let them think I live in a sty.  It's not entirely possible for them to think less of me now anyway.  With any luck they'll be allergic to cats.

Also, long long long story that you're best just getting from me directly but a former/still kinda current big muckity muck in town happened by our Wednesday Night Hangout (a group of us loosely affiliated with the Ballyshanners and the pub in general who go out just to chill and drink and talk on Wednesdays).  He's long been friends with the owner of the pub but has recently been a bit of a no-show for a variety of reasons. I'm not so into naming names here but basically---pretty big, old family in town and used to have considerable political power (could only have been more if he was the mayor himself). 

We were talking, he mentioned an address which is near my new place, and I told him I'm about to move around the corner.  We talked about where I live currently and the (extremely abbreviated) circumstances of my moving and without missing a beat he guessed the name of the landlord due almost entirely to the bizarre behavior.  He suggested that there may be more to the story than I know, but he wouldn't be surprised either way. I know better than to say anything mean to or about anyone with any measurable power so I just said "hey, that's the danger of renting, it's upsetting but that's life and I'm just glad I got another nice place" but it made me happy.  It made me happier that he suggested a letter to the editor and certain bureaucratic grievance channels, if for no other reason than to be a bee in the bonnet but I won't do either.  It's just not worth my time, plus I know better than to aggravate the rich, powerful and well connected.

I just can't wait for my new place and I really hope that I don't miss it here too terribly.