Weekend Wrap-Up: CoolWhip, Yellow, Djbouti.

Friday:
Hung out with Mark and his new woman for Strawberry Banana French Toast at IHOP and So You Think You Can Dance back at Mark’s. While the strawberry banana french toast had MUCH whipped cream (they have switched from Redi-Whip to spray Cool Whip and, yes, I know the difference), the bananas were of a frozen, nonfresh variety. I gives it a B. The “Sparkling Cherry Lemonade” beverage gets an A+, though. It’s some kind of insanely sweet unholy alliance of what tastes like sparkling Minute Maid Lemonade and Cherry syrup. Not grenadine. SYRUP. Delicious, but perhaps “a bit much” when chased with strawberry french toast. On a related note, I finally broke down and purchased Raspberry/Blueberry Faygo, which was not exactly worth the 360 calories it cost me.

Saturday:
Went to see Tiffany glass and “color field” at the Frist, during which I explained to Nathan (while looking at a 10-foot, giant yellow painting) about how yellow is the anti-goth color.

“What else? I would think it would have been baby blue.”
“No…baby blue makes me think of cloudy days and Edward Scissorhands. It looks cold.”
“Really? But it’s the color of the sky!”
“Yeah, but the sky can be good and bad. It can be a sunny day or that which brings a hurricane.”

And so, Nathan’s frightening window into the goth mind was complete, and I continued to taunt him for his love for “rainbows and puppies.” Frist didn’t take very long, so we hit Christopher Pizza Kitchen (on Demonbreun) afterward. We had a hot, tattooed waiter and my Herbivore pizza was delish. Itraded a slive for Nathan’s Fancy Pants pizza, which was even better, and don’t even get me started on the Sugar Rush. It appears to be a Three Musketeers wrapped in pizza dough and baked, served with ice cream. Yeah, I know, but Nathan apparently can’t go to a restaurant without ordering dessert, and I figured that I’d be burning it off later. Scrubbing the house. Minds out of the gutter.

After foodz, I hit Panera to work on the project I’m doing for the VFW, and then went over to start the “renovation funk removal” on the new house. After 3 hours of scrubbing away errant paint streaks, manufacturers’ labels, and cob webs…I’m about half way done. I’m going to have to mop the floors two or 3 more times to get all of the renovation dust up, but I’ll settle for once more before the move. No point in doing the hard-core Cinderella Clean (on hands & knees with a scrub brush and sponge) until AFTER moving men have tromped through the house. Sadly, my arms weren’t sore the next day…I was so hoping that would have been more of a workout…

Sunday:
Got up and went to Panera for 4 more hours, isolating various coutries on a world map as part of the VFW project. Some were easy…others, like, Koh Tang island? Not so much. See, once upon a time, we were helping evacuate people or something from Cambodia (Khmer Rouge, blah blah), and we left a boat there. Eventually, we went back (to Koh Tang Island) to get said boat. Thus…the thing has to be part of what I’m doing. Long story.

Anyway, that took up pretty much the whole day (I refuse to set an alarm on a Sunday), so then it was time to get ready for goth night. Ordinarily, at a busy “I have a freelance project due AND I’m moving” time, I’d have skipped goth night, but it was 80s night. When the DJs throw you a Combichrist-free night, you had better show up for it. Much fun was had, and now I get to pack stuff tonight on 5 hours’ sleep. Today’s note card is already full (I keep a note card on my desk and, as I think of things I need to get done,  write them on said note card), so tonight shall be a busy night on the ladder. I need to take down the full-room curtains in the bedroom and get them washed before I move to a place which does not yet have a washer/dryer. Yeah…I guess I should add “order washer/dryer” to the note card too.

Weekend: Box, Box, Booze.

Friday:
Did the usual thang with Mark and we tried a new Chinese place. After many years of being loyal patrons of China Bell, we finally admitted to ourselves that The Bell had gone south and my tasty vegetable dish was basically just grease-flavored. So, we gave Hunan Express a try. It’s a bizarre little place next to Sam Ash in Rivergate and, like every carry out Chinese restaurant on Earth, looks like you should expect food poisoning after you eat there. Why do Chinese carry-out places always have to be so sketchy-looking? It’s unsettling. Anyway, Hunan Express is owned by this dude and his wife (or some woman that I assume is his wife) and he talks into a little microphone to give her the orders, even though she’s only 7 feet away. “What’s in the Vegetarian Delight?” “NO MEAT!” Yeah. It was good, though. The only thing I would have changed was that there was a little too much whatever sauce poured over my rice.

Saturday:
Got up and did all of the dishes that had been languishing all over my kitchen, then went in to work to make a whole lotta text boxes for Giant Digital Magazine, which is just about finished. After that, I met Nat, Pearl, Lisa, and Shannon at Battered & Fried for an EIGHT-dollar sushi roll. It was good, but damn. I’m only going back there if someone else is paying…and I’m willing to repay the meal with sexual favors.

After Battered & Fried, Nat, Pearl and I went over to Red Door Midtown to meet kick-ass pilot gal Erin. The place was overrun with Vandy types who had apparently been drinking all day at steeplechase (steeplechase? hi, could you be little whiter?) so I was out of there by 10:30. I did, however, manage to finally consume an entire alcoholic beverage (amaretto sour) in a bar before closing on my house. OK, so it took me until age 30. Don’t judge.

Oh! I almost forgot: I finally got the dead microwave out of my kitchen. It had been sitting on the floor for two years (don’t judge me) because I recall only being able to lift it long enough to et it from the counter to the floor when I replaced it. When my well-meaning parents bought it for me, they got the most powerful (read: big) microwave they could find. You know, in case I felt like cooking a turkey or something. Over the years, I just stopped seeing it there… Anyway, my weight regime must be working because I carried that bitch out to the car without having to stop and rest or anything. My plan was to just drive around with it in my car until I had a boy with me who would help me throw it into a dumpster somewhere, but the lady at U-Haul (I was buying some super-large boxes) was like “I’ll put that in our trash if you want.” Sweet! Thanks, lady!

Sunday:
Got up and ran out to the car to get the extra-large boxes which, in Sunday’s strong winds, acted as a sort of kite that damn near lifted me off the ground. I packed all 4 of them, packing up almost everything in the kitchen and work room, except for some pots that I forgot about and some books of sheet music. I try to distribute the books over several boxes so I’m not totally screwed when I have to move those things around the house, and sheet music books are huge. This thought process did not, however, stop me from packing a 2-inch stack of black display boards into one box…I’m gonna have to tip the movers extra for that shit.

Since goth night was at Decades again this week, Jen and I decided to just hang out at Red Door East instead. I sprung for a Blue Valium…and then Jen surprised me with a second one. This, readers, is easily the most booze I’ve ever had in one sitting, as Red Door follows the rum/curacao/tequila/vodka recipe, as opposed to the blue mix/lemonade/vodka one. “Dude, he filled that thing up to HERE with liquor!” (Jen points about 1.5 inches below the rim of the glass.) “Yeah, but that’s mostly ice.”

At best, I was mildly tipsy, but I was really just so drowsy that my head felt like it was full of water. “That’s cause you didn’t drink them fast enough,” says Jen. A couple hours and a half Vivarin later, I was all good, except that my right contact had fallen out, making for an interesting drive home. “No, officer! I’m sober! I’m just blind in one eye!”

Weekend: Lounging and Letters

Friday:
I hit the Goodwill for a post-work wind down and found a couple a of new tasties: a pink and black plaid schoolgirl skirt and a commemorative t-shirt from something called the “Young Hot Witches All Night Party.” Like, hello. Of course I was all over that. It looked a little small, but my boobs fit into it without causing the sleeves to put a stranglehold on my pits. After making my way to Rivergate, I hit the Walgreens for some pre-pizza beverages and…well, ok. I bought the tiny bottle of Body Fantasies Cotton Candy body spray. Sue me. It was only a dollar, and it was bright pink. I’m only human. I’m wearing it today, marinating in a cloud of sugariness that one would think would emanate from my pores naturally. I either smell like a cake (!) or like a 12 year-old girl.

Mark busted out the news that he now has a girlfriend, and I’m totally happy for him. Hell, it only took him 10 years. Anyway, he says that she has “issues” with our Friday nights, which I guess is only natural. I’ve been lucky that the dudes that I’ve dated haven’t had a problem with Fridays With Mark…anyway, I told Mark that he should invite his new girlfriend, so long as the two of them aren’t all “blarglargl,” which is the sound I made when pantomiming two people making out.

Saturday:
Despite setting my alarm for 8:30, I didn’t actually wake up for my meeting with Real Estate Lady until 9:43. I hurriedly threw on clothes and clean teeth and made my way to Starbucks to make up the “we’ve had the inspection, now here’s what we want you to do” list. No word on the outcome of that yet.

The responsible, adult thing to do after the meeting would have been to go in to work to get some hours in on Giant Digital Magazine. However, I needed a break really badly, so I spent the day napping, watching crappy horror movies, and lying in bed eating Corn Pops. Later, I got a few boxes packed and did some laundry just to make myself feel better.

Sunday:
I woke up at 9:00 and went in to the office to work on a freelance Lolita project. The goal was to get the lettering done for the title of the CD. The words and 5 hours later, the lettering was ready to send off t LA Dude for review. Yeah, that was a whole lotta lettering…but I’m pretty sure that I’m happy with it and ready to move on to the rest of the letters.

Went home and took a disco nap and then headed out to goth night at Decades. I hadn’t been around people who were smoking in over a month and, you know, I think I could do without that crap. My nose stopped functioning after about an hour. Not to mention that the dance floor Decades has a serious strobe light problem, with makes one feel (a) dizzy (b) disoriented (c) nauseous (d) on the cusp of a seizure. Strobe lights make me feel like I’m in a “I’ve been drugged at a rave” scene from an after school special. Hate them. Not to mention that I’m kind of paranoid because Paxil has been known to cause seizures in some people. Not often, but still. Paranoid. Between work drama and house drama, I haven’t been getting in as much treadmill time as I’d like, and I was kind of paying for it last night.

Anywho, time to stop typing and get my headphones in. It’s only 9:15, and the sample-size frat house at the end of the hall has already used the phrase “that’s what she said.” What’s up, 5th grade?

Weekend: The Nerve, The Brain, The Heart

Friday:
Took the day off work to chill and meet up with the house inspector. Those of you who read the previous post pretty much know how that turned out. For those of you who didn’t: yadda yadda yadda, the deal’s off. It’s too much work, and the seller’s previous behavior tells me that they will be willing to half-ass work if they think that they won’t get caught. I don’t need that crap. I can change a boob light or two, but I can’t fix the slope of a backyard. Did I mention that Metro Water went out there and also used the phrase “run like hell?” Cause they did. It’s time to move on to another house that may not be as sexy-looking but might actually be…you know…not rotting. It’s all about how you look at things like a bath fitter as opposed to a tiled shower: as long as you keep the price of the house down, you can get that tile custom-done. It’s just hard to keep the nerve to keep trying. We put together an offer on House 2, but we’re waiting for a disclosure statement before submitting an offer. Meanwhile, the seller from House 1 keeps trying to make me feel better. Oh we’re going to have a roofer come out and check the roof, we’re going to fix the moisture, blah blah blah. Whatever.

For a couple of days, I thought maybe I had this worked out. I thought maybe it would be time to think about all of the other stuff that’s been on hold. Work issues, boy issues, friend issues. I was able to point my brain in the direction of finding a place to go once I get laid off in December. I was able to send out emails to try and prove that my brain is enough. There have been no responses. This does not make for an untroubled mind.

Saturday:
While dealing with house drama (which is becoming the story of my life, btw), I headed over to Fierce to witness and document Jen’s new haircut. She manned up and got a Deathhawk, and it is most triumphant. There will be pix and a more thorough post soon, but for now you has to take my word for it. Afterward, we hit the beauty supply for teasing combs and Target for…well, whatever. “Whatever” in this case meaning “rogering the h.i.p. and Rimmel sections of the makeup department.” My mood sort of crashed after that and I went home to take a nap and regroup.

Sunday:
Got up to meet Real estate Lady at Starbucks to go over the house inspection and lick some wounds. “I just can’t do it. SO much would have to be done to make me feel good about this. I just can’t do it.” It’s too bad, but a gal’s gotta do what a gal’s gotta do. If they’re not willing to rebuild 1/3 of that house, I’m not willing to buy it. Sorry, dudes.

After that, I wandered around Opry Mills for a while and then hung out with jrob. This whole situation requires a stronger heart than mine, as my whole gut feeling is “do not trust this person.” I have forgiven stuff that happened in the past, but forgetting it would make me a damn fool. Trust can be earned back, but the other person has to want to make that happen and make an earnest and prolonged attempt. I don’t feel like this is going to happen, and I don’t feel like I deserve to be treated like a fixer-upper. I can go find someone who will be consistently nice to me. If I can’t find that person? Screw it. I have a cat and a PlayStation, and I can honestly say that I just don’t get excited about the idea of boys anymore. This isn’t to say that I’m becoming a lesbian, this is to say that I just don’t care. I don’t have the heart for it, and all of my heart’s strength is tied up in having to deal with house sellers who are bullshitting me and employers who wish that I would just go away. There’s just no more strength left after dealing with those things. Maybe, eventually, I’ll get the nerve and the brain worked out and be able to deal with the heart. Today is not that day.

No place like home,
-(e)a

Weekend: Sweeney, Sours, Strange House.

Friday:
The usual hang out with Mark ritual, this time with China Bell. I think it’s time for me to break up with Rivergate’s China Bell. The last few times we’ve gotten food from there, it’s been heavy on grease and light on taste. Sad, really. The mixed vegetable used to be so good.

Saturday:
Having left my laptop at work, I wasn’t able to do the “get up and wank around playing computer games” ritual of Saturday morning. This was completely intentional, though, as I had some tiny cartoon pants to do which required my to go to the office so I wouldn’t just end up napping. Thus, I took a giant walk which ended up being about 6 miles and taking for EVER. It was nice, but I shan’t be doing this again. After the giant walk, I took a shower and went in to the office to finish my tiny cartoon pants. After that, I went to East Nashville to grab a sammich and wait for Jen to be done hanging out with her family.

I have learned that the Subway on Gallatin Rd is perhaps the saddest place on earth. The were down to only white or wheat bread, they had no pepperjack cheese, and the drink fridge was empty, save for one old bottle of milk. Some dude even tried to panhandle me INSIDE the store, clearly not knowing the look of “I’m so hungry I might shiv you” Amy. On a related note, I was recently asked for a dollar by some random teenage girl in Dillard’s. “Hey, you got a dollar?” “Yeah, but not for you.” Don’t fuck with me, princess. I used to live off West End. I am impervious to your guilt trips, and I have been panhandled by people WAY more pathetic than you. Anyway, I went to Portland Brew to chill and eat my sammich, and then Jen called. She, Elias and I ate dip, had amaretto sours, and watched Sweeney Todd, and fun was had by all. Most triumphant.

Sunday:
I pick up jrob and we go to house #1 to meet Real Estate Lady. The house is renovated and decent, but I didn’t like it as much as another house that I’d seen and not made an offer on. Then we looked at house #2, which was more like 2 houses glued together by a pantry. It was comedic, sad, and too much work. After, jrob and I hit Mitchell’s Deli and watched…Sweeney Todd. Hey, I was totally up for watching it again. It’s good eatin’. Later, we made a trek into Nashville for season 1 of Hell’s Kitchen. Jonathan has finally seen the HK light, and has grown to love Gordon Ramsay’s for calling people donkeys and telling them to fuck off. Ha ha! You like a Fox reality show! You’re eating maggots, Michael! How do they taste?

Today, I emailed Real Estate Lady to say that I wasn’t feeling House #1…but I had reconsidered the house from 3 weeks ago. If it’s still on the market, I have made an offer that I’m comfy with…which involves making the sellers give me 1000 bucks to finish the renovation that they didn’t finish. You know, door knobs and such. will they go for it? Who knows. But I’m feeling very Ice-T today. I like the house enough now to appreciate the niceness of it, but I’m dispassionate enough to be able to drive a decent bargain. The house has been on the market since December, so the seller will either now be very open to negotiation or the seller is been a non-compromising hard-ass. Either way, I’m ok with it. So there. You people will not out hard-ass me today; I’m feeling very Ice-T.

Weekend: Boring Much?

Friday:
Hung out with Mark, ate pizza whilst watching Daisy (Rock of Love) admit that she’d had an abortion and was (surprise!) a stripper.

Saturday:
Slept until 3:30, but I guess I needed it, as I’d been sleeping through my alarm all week. Unfortunately, this resulted in a sore shoulder from the coma-like sleep where I don’t move around. Ah well. It was some good sleep.

Sunday
Woke up at 7:30, hit Kroger, had some cereal, fell back asleep until 11:00. Later, went for a walk. Oh, the excitement.

Weekend: Strange & Unusual

Friday:
Took a half day of vacation so as to finally go and get my driver’s license renewed, after driving on an expired one for 4 months. Since I turned old in November, I had to go to the DMV and get a new picture taken. Hence the stalling. The picture took 2 tries, but came out fairly decently, and I ran into Eric.

As part of the half-day festivities, I left work early and went to Performance to replenish the makeup stash and get some blue and some clown white to mix for a photo shoot of corpsey goodness. I didn’t forget about the Valentine in a Vacuum shoot…I’m just stalling until I’m in my new place. It occurred to me that, in my current place, there’s nowhere to take pictures because I’m on top of myself all the damn time. I can’t take a picture without there being a stack of dish towels in the background or something. Lame. Anywho, after spending 30 bucks at Performance (I also stocked up on the life blood of lacy gloves), I went up to Rivergate for Chinese foodz and reality tv with Mark. I felt crazy, so I got the “broccoli with garlic sauce” that I’d never had. I don’t think that was garlic sauce. It was more like the sauce that they put on General Tso’s Chicken, so I called it “broccoli with happy accident.”

Saturday:
Hooked up with my kick-ass real estate lady to look at my top 5. The verdicts:

  1. 6-foot ceilings are cute, but not when your bed is 6.5 feet tall. I may be a pocket person, but I’m a pocket person with a taste for giant, imposing Victorian furniture. Next!
  2. Cute, lots of space, basement (!), but I’m troubled by the lack of closet space. This would be a recurring trend, as most of the houses in East Nashville are old and old houses have small closets. This was my front-runner until #4.
  3. HUGE, but with a very WTF kind of flow. Or lack of flow, as it were. One day, somebody’s gonna put some money into this house and it will be completely kick-ass. However, the possible drug deal going on next door and the FOUR exterior doors (two of which were in bedrooms) say that the renovating person won’t be me.
  4. The front-runner. It’s not very cute from the outside, but some shrubs and the ability to add a big front porch later could change that. The inside has new hardwoods, new a/c, lighting fixtures that say “we enjoy ornate metal” (so do I, not surprisingly), and a tub with black & white checkered tile. I described the bathroom as “gothtastic.” There’s the usual lack of closet space, but the bedroom’s big enough to accommodate an armoire. There’s also no dishwasher, but there’s a place where one could easily be added later. Also, a 2-car garage. I hadn’t really thought about a garage, but once I did, I realized that it would be nice to have for the “you don’t know if I’m home or not” factor. Also…it would be good space for photo shoots (natural light, area for mess-making). The would-be sewing room has a door (to make it a no-puss zone), and the living room is big enough to accommodate a giant wall unit and/or huge “single dude tv.” There’s also a vaulted ceiling, which looks to me like a big black canvas. I’m thinking 3 or 4 big, tall paintings…something involving Alice in Wonderland. Oh, and the wood trim and doors are stained cherry, which will jive well with my furniture and the dark jewel tones that I plan to put on the walls. The kitchen is more of a tiny afterthought, but I don’t really cook anyway and a giant kitchen is just an invitation to funk. If you only have a little counter space, you have to keep it clean. Also, the fridge has “water in the door,” which has been a secret dream of mine since childhood. This place isn’t as big as some of the others, but bigger places sometimes just mean that you have more space to keep clean. Besides, the bigger places often had bedroom so small that I wouldn’t be able to fit an armoire in them…what would I do for clothes space?
  5. Smelled like old ladies, had vertical blinds that were white on one side and METALLIC GOLD on the other, jacked-up carpet, jacked-up fence, basement and loft area both looked like places to kill people. Brilliant as comedy, not so much as an actual place to live.

After going home and trying to take a nap (unsuccessfully because I was picturing my stuff in house #4), I headed out to see Beetlejuice. Wheee, Beetlejuice!

Sunday:
Got up and immediately started the ritual: got 24oz coffee at TigerMart, went in to the office to make tiny cartoon pants for 5 hours.  After that, I went home and made a scale drawing of house #4 in Illustrator, then placed virtual furniture in it, then placed fantasy furniture in it. I’ll look at the house once more to measure and make sure that the bedroom really can handle an armoire as long as 7 feet, but my drawing says yes. Someday, someway, I WILL have one of those giant fuckoff armoires with cherubs and lions and shit carved into it. The dream is real.

As a result of the working/drawing, I didn’t make it out to goth night. I was worn out and knew that I had a long week ahead of me. One should not start such a week on 4 hours’ sleep.