...but that doesn't mean that my interest in blogging about stuff has! Find me at my new place:
Where the Gone Things Go
Monday, August 18, 2008
Friday, August 8, 2008
Yesterday was a shitty day, but let's forget about that. It's a given that there will be bad days and days where nothing bad happened but I will either miss friends or I will look around my apartment and, for as much as I love it (and I *really* love my apartment!), I will see my stuff in rooms that are not the same as the rooms I have lived in, in a house that looks nothing like a Boston triple-decker or three-story-actual-house-turned-into-three-apartments.
Let's focus on today. It was a damn good day. In the war I waged on my disassembled bed, I won (yesterday I didn't). There were some massive attacks--first when trying to piece together that stupid metal frame and then again when I tried to push and shove my mattress from the living room, where it had been moved 1. to access the pieces of bed frame yesterday and then 2. to sleep on when yesterday it was apparent that the bed would win. There were a few times when the mattress--far bigger than I am and almost too heavy for one person to wrangle on her own--had me fall flat on my butt on my living room floor. In the end, though, I proved victorious. I have an assembled bed--wrinkled dust ruffle that sorely needs to be ironed, but I will handle that another time, but still, a fully assembled bed. Headboard actually attached to the frame (first time in years that I managed to even do that...), properly assembled bed frame, box spring, dust ruffle, mattress. Next comes taking the sheets out and, well, "dressing" my bed.
What also made today a good day is the following little list of accomplishments:
1. I alphabetized my poetry books. As stupid as it sounds, alphabetizing things--and bringing order to my books--brings a ridiculously peaceful and wonderful happiness to me.
2. I proved victorious in the war against the used car market. I now own a nice black 1998 honda civic. The miles are certainly high, but they are reasonable for what I need, they are "good for a honda," and I managed to get the nice Lebanese man who manages the business to discount the price 10%. I also have a commitment from him to replace my front windshield which has some unsightly dings and cracks. That is being done tomorrow. The car, however, is with me.
3. I talked to Stefanie on the phone and felt like I was back home, drinking tea or a nice tall beer with her somewhere and talking.
4. Sidney sent me a postcard that arrived today. Her faith in me fuelds something super wonderful that I can not properly articulate.
5. I am going to a party of sorts at the place of a program-mate.
6. I successfully ordered broadband DSL service for my apartment today.
7. I drove to Target and got a nice new Brita water filter and a utensils tray for my kitchen drawer in which I keep utensils. Now my water can come from a pitcher that I keep in the fridge door and can be nice and chilled. And now my utensils can find order instead of threaten to start a rebellion. I don't know how the eating utensils and the cooking utensils would quite get along.
8. Benjamin and Shana are coming tomorrow from St. Louis to help me get stuff and assemble stuff from Target. It is a horrible, horrible scene if I try to do it on my own. It turns into a bookshelf unit with the back wood piece kind of nailed shut in the right direction but a little bit off and a little bit loose or a television stand that is not at nice 90 degree angles.
9. Benjamin is giving me information on his car insurance dude who he trusts, who is the sort of dude who explained to Benjamin what different stuff in the insurance meant instead of just taking him for some knowledge-less idiot. Even if this insurance dude only services the St. Louis area and not my town, 2 hours west, he will be able to hook me up with one of his colleagues in his network who can give me service. Web of trust, right?
10. I think I am doing something with L this weekend and with K, who is a new friend who works in the libraries here. Plans with old friends--Benjamin and Shana who I CAN NOT WAIT to see--and with new friends is really the best way to go. Bringing in as much of the people already in my world as a 'welcome wagon' of sorts to my emotional and psychological space and to help make room for the new friends is a huge, wonderful comfort.
That's all.
I have to go!
I need to figure out dinner and go get some beers and such to bring to tonight's party.
Let's focus on today. It was a damn good day. In the war I waged on my disassembled bed, I won (yesterday I didn't). There were some massive attacks--first when trying to piece together that stupid metal frame and then again when I tried to push and shove my mattress from the living room, where it had been moved 1. to access the pieces of bed frame yesterday and then 2. to sleep on when yesterday it was apparent that the bed would win. There were a few times when the mattress--far bigger than I am and almost too heavy for one person to wrangle on her own--had me fall flat on my butt on my living room floor. In the end, though, I proved victorious. I have an assembled bed--wrinkled dust ruffle that sorely needs to be ironed, but I will handle that another time, but still, a fully assembled bed. Headboard actually attached to the frame (first time in years that I managed to even do that...), properly assembled bed frame, box spring, dust ruffle, mattress. Next comes taking the sheets out and, well, "dressing" my bed.
What also made today a good day is the following little list of accomplishments:
1. I alphabetized my poetry books. As stupid as it sounds, alphabetizing things--and bringing order to my books--brings a ridiculously peaceful and wonderful happiness to me.
2. I proved victorious in the war against the used car market. I now own a nice black 1998 honda civic. The miles are certainly high, but they are reasonable for what I need, they are "good for a honda," and I managed to get the nice Lebanese man who manages the business to discount the price 10%. I also have a commitment from him to replace my front windshield which has some unsightly dings and cracks. That is being done tomorrow. The car, however, is with me.
3. I talked to Stefanie on the phone and felt like I was back home, drinking tea or a nice tall beer with her somewhere and talking.
4. Sidney sent me a postcard that arrived today. Her faith in me fuelds something super wonderful that I can not properly articulate.
5. I am going to a party of sorts at the place of a program-mate.
6. I successfully ordered broadband DSL service for my apartment today.
7. I drove to Target and got a nice new Brita water filter and a utensils tray for my kitchen drawer in which I keep utensils. Now my water can come from a pitcher that I keep in the fridge door and can be nice and chilled. And now my utensils can find order instead of threaten to start a rebellion. I don't know how the eating utensils and the cooking utensils would quite get along.
8. Benjamin and Shana are coming tomorrow from St. Louis to help me get stuff and assemble stuff from Target. It is a horrible, horrible scene if I try to do it on my own. It turns into a bookshelf unit with the back wood piece kind of nailed shut in the right direction but a little bit off and a little bit loose or a television stand that is not at nice 90 degree angles.
9. Benjamin is giving me information on his car insurance dude who he trusts, who is the sort of dude who explained to Benjamin what different stuff in the insurance meant instead of just taking him for some knowledge-less idiot. Even if this insurance dude only services the St. Louis area and not my town, 2 hours west, he will be able to hook me up with one of his colleagues in his network who can give me service. Web of trust, right?
10. I think I am doing something with L this weekend and with K, who is a new friend who works in the libraries here. Plans with old friends--Benjamin and Shana who I CAN NOT WAIT to see--and with new friends is really the best way to go. Bringing in as much of the people already in my world as a 'welcome wagon' of sorts to my emotional and psychological space and to help make room for the new friends is a huge, wonderful comfort.
That's all.
I have to go!
I need to figure out dinner and go get some beers and such to bring to tonight's party.
Monday, August 4, 2008
I am here, in Missouri, and right now sitting in a coffee shop down my street and close to campus.
My internet won't be installed until tomorrow morning.
My pod will arrive tomorrow morning, and it will be unloaded on Wednesday morning.
Marvy!
I have so much crap to do.
Including car shopping.
AND I need to figure out what to do with this space, epecially since I am not an accidental admin anymore.
I'm just Stephanie.
And I am a PhD student.
And I am a person living in the midwest.
And as far as a 'job' is concerned, while I am doing some freelance work, I am first and foremost a college writing instructor. That is no longer my "moonlighting gig" I guess. It's my main gig.
Which is damn nice to be able to say.
More later, though.
My internet won't be installed until tomorrow morning.
My pod will arrive tomorrow morning, and it will be unloaded on Wednesday morning.
Marvy!
I have so much crap to do.
Including car shopping.
AND I need to figure out what to do with this space, epecially since I am not an accidental admin anymore.
I'm just Stephanie.
And I am a PhD student.
And I am a person living in the midwest.
And as far as a 'job' is concerned, while I am doing some freelance work, I am first and foremost a college writing instructor. That is no longer my "moonlighting gig" I guess. It's my main gig.
Which is damn nice to be able to say.
More later, though.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
A song for the new generation, sung in A minor...
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day of THE TROLL!
Last day of THE TROLL!
Last day of THE TROLL!
Last day of THE TROLL!
Last day of THE TROLL!
Last day of THE TROLL!
Goodbye ugly beige cubicle!
Goodbye ugly beige cubicle!
Goodbye ugly beige cubicle!
Goodbye ugly beige cubicle!
Goodbye ugly beige cubicle!
Goodbye ugly beige cubicle!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day of THE TROLL!
Last day of THE TROLL!
Last day of THE TROLL!
Last day of THE TROLL!
Last day of THE TROLL!
Last day of THE TROLL!
Goodbye ugly beige cubicle!
Goodbye ugly beige cubicle!
Goodbye ugly beige cubicle!
Goodbye ugly beige cubicle!
Goodbye ugly beige cubicle!
Goodbye ugly beige cubicle!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Last day at work!
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Tomorrow is my last day.
If I were on a sitcom, I would do Cousin Balki's dance of joy.
My boxes are all hauled and loaded.
My movers were so amazing that they got everything in one pod.
They saved me $500 by doing that.
I am excited and stressed and exhausted and overwhelmed and freaking out with moving.
Shit--I am that entire bundle of status and emotion just from my apartment being empty and the sounds of my cat meowing and me talking echoing throughout the empty rooms.
Tonight I have to sweep all the floors, take out the garbage.
But first--"goodbye" dinner with Julia, haircut with the ever-fabulous Elizabeth.
Oh god it's all finally here. Tomorrow is the last day at work. Including a big, fabulous, paid-for-on-someone's-corporate-AmEx farewell lunch at Bambara. When I asked him if he was coming, the Italian Prince just looked at me and asked, "will alcohol be involved?" I told him that if he orders a glass of wine then I just may very well order a glass of wine.
In 48 hours from now I will be giving a flight attendant my boarding pass, walking onto an airplane, and claming my cat.
Shit. It's finally here.
What will the world be like when I am no longer "accidental admin", when I am just Stephanie?
If I were on a sitcom, I would do Cousin Balki's dance of joy.
My boxes are all hauled and loaded.
My movers were so amazing that they got everything in one pod.
They saved me $500 by doing that.
I am excited and stressed and exhausted and overwhelmed and freaking out with moving.
Shit--I am that entire bundle of status and emotion just from my apartment being empty and the sounds of my cat meowing and me talking echoing throughout the empty rooms.
Tonight I have to sweep all the floors, take out the garbage.
But first--"goodbye" dinner with Julia, haircut with the ever-fabulous Elizabeth.
Oh god it's all finally here. Tomorrow is the last day at work. Including a big, fabulous, paid-for-on-someone's-corporate-AmEx farewell lunch at Bambara. When I asked him if he was coming, the Italian Prince just looked at me and asked, "will alcohol be involved?" I told him that if he orders a glass of wine then I just may very well order a glass of wine.
In 48 hours from now I will be giving a flight attendant my boarding pass, walking onto an airplane, and claming my cat.
Shit. It's finally here.
What will the world be like when I am no longer "accidental admin", when I am just Stephanie?
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Shorthand, the moving edition...
in my apartment
all boxes packed
furniture moved in odd locations
a table with its legs unscrewed
large open spaces and clear pathways to the back door created
moving pods delivered to my driveway (off the back door)
1:20 until my movers come to load those suckers up
3 days until I board an airplane
(oh shit that is soon)
said goodbye last night to the writers
managed to keep my cool in their presence
managed to weep like a fool in my apartment
I have been sitting on my sofa (while it is here for me to sit on) writing my answers to my exit interview
oh jeezus it was sort of crazy and lame
2 more days of hopping on the #80 bus to go to work
2 more days of ugly beige cubicle
2 more days of The Troll and her annoying singing and talking too loudly on the phone
2 more days of Office Land and Cubicle Land and Corporate America and then hello academia
and right now I am outta here...
all boxes packed
furniture moved in odd locations
a table with its legs unscrewed
large open spaces and clear pathways to the back door created
moving pods delivered to my driveway (off the back door)
1:20 until my movers come to load those suckers up
3 days until I board an airplane
(oh shit that is soon)
said goodbye last night to the writers
managed to keep my cool in their presence
managed to weep like a fool in my apartment
I have been sitting on my sofa (while it is here for me to sit on) writing my answers to my exit interview
oh jeezus it was sort of crazy and lame
2 more days of hopping on the #80 bus to go to work
2 more days of ugly beige cubicle
2 more days of The Troll and her annoying singing and talking too loudly on the phone
2 more days of Office Land and Cubicle Land and Corporate America and then hello academia
and right now I am outta here...
Monday, July 28, 2008
It's my last week of work. Well, to be more precise, my last 4 days of work. It's pretty cool. I'm pretty excited. And this morning, to celebrate this, I sent out the "thank you for everything" e-mail with my non-work e-mail address to all of my colleagues. And people are coming out in droves with the "oh no don't leave us! We need you!!!!" e-mails.
They know it's a done deal; this girl is going back to school to become a full-fledged nerd. I know that to some extent that's part of the social expectation--the exchange of "it's been so lovely to work with you" and the "you're awesome, don't leave us, we love you here, come visit all the time" messages. I refuse to write or say things that I don't mean, so my words were sincere. Though my job might have been as accidental as my blog's website indicates and though my actual job may not really be to my liking or along a professional path that is viable for me, the people I have worked with--and the people whose cubicles I worked near--are pretty cool. To them I can easily offer my non-work e-mail address, best wishes for their futures, my heartfelt thanks, and the hope for continued communication.
I am sure that you are all sitting on the edge of your seats and wondering one big, important question: Is THE TROLL one of the people to whom I sent this e-mail?
My answer: not in your life.
Now don't get me wrong; I am sure that she is a lovely person whose friends think she is The Queen Bee Of Their Every-Fantasy-Filled World, and I am sure that she is recognized and valued and loved for her talents and for the ways in which her personality can sparkle. Here, however, from my vantage point, she ain't impressin' me all that much, and I can not sincerely wish her well or go to sleep at night feeling safe and secure and happy that she has my contact information. She is not the boss on my block or in my--well--cubicle aisle, and if she continues to hum and sing and la-la-la like she has been doing this morning (OR if she starts talking about szechuan cuisine, or about weight watchers, or about any of her other stupid, trivial bullshit), she might make it to the top of my Super Fantasy Hit List.
Edit: she will not make it to the top. That space is reserved for George W. Bush, John McCain, anyone who dares to consider purple the new black, all fashion designers who think that a trapeze dress is a good idea, bigots, Anne Coulter, people who drive stupid-huge SUVs without a specific need for one (ie general contractors who need to lug around lots of stuff, artists who need to lug around huge canvasses and painting supplies and materials for sculptures, athletes who need to lug around canoes and bicycles and similar things that require too much space), people who selfishly and improperly staff senior citizens centers, and the owners of Wal-Mart for building a store that does not quite celebrate the first ammendment and that is based on a highly nepotistic organizational leadership structure. Then comes The Troll.
But everyone else I will miss. And I have no qualms in telling them as much.
They know it's a done deal; this girl is going back to school to become a full-fledged nerd. I know that to some extent that's part of the social expectation--the exchange of "it's been so lovely to work with you" and the "you're awesome, don't leave us, we love you here, come visit all the time" messages. I refuse to write or say things that I don't mean, so my words were sincere. Though my job might have been as accidental as my blog's website indicates and though my actual job may not really be to my liking or along a professional path that is viable for me, the people I have worked with--and the people whose cubicles I worked near--are pretty cool. To them I can easily offer my non-work e-mail address, best wishes for their futures, my heartfelt thanks, and the hope for continued communication.
I am sure that you are all sitting on the edge of your seats and wondering one big, important question: Is THE TROLL one of the people to whom I sent this e-mail?
My answer: not in your life.
Now don't get me wrong; I am sure that she is a lovely person whose friends think she is The Queen Bee Of Their Every-Fantasy-Filled World, and I am sure that she is recognized and valued and loved for her talents and for the ways in which her personality can sparkle. Here, however, from my vantage point, she ain't impressin' me all that much, and I can not sincerely wish her well or go to sleep at night feeling safe and secure and happy that she has my contact information. She is not the boss on my block or in my--well--cubicle aisle, and if she continues to hum and sing and la-la-la like she has been doing this morning (OR if she starts talking about szechuan cuisine, or about weight watchers, or about any of her other stupid, trivial bullshit), she might make it to the top of my Super Fantasy Hit List.
Edit: she will not make it to the top. That space is reserved for George W. Bush, John McCain, anyone who dares to consider purple the new black, all fashion designers who think that a trapeze dress is a good idea, bigots, Anne Coulter, people who drive stupid-huge SUVs without a specific need for one (ie general contractors who need to lug around lots of stuff, artists who need to lug around huge canvasses and painting supplies and materials for sculptures, athletes who need to lug around canoes and bicycles and similar things that require too much space), people who selfishly and improperly staff senior citizens centers, and the owners of Wal-Mart for building a store that does not quite celebrate the first ammendment and that is based on a highly nepotistic organizational leadership structure. Then comes The Troll.
But everyone else I will miss. And I have no qualms in telling them as much.
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