Personal Perestróĭka

My mom had surgery this morning on her sinuses. She’s home now, and really doped up. Thus far no complications, all though she could still have dangerous bleeding problems for the next 48 hours or so, so please keep your fingers crossed for her. Assuming the surgery was successful her quality of life should be drastically inproving in a week or so. Pray for that too.

Tonight this singer that I have a huge, fangirly crush on is playing at my work. I’ve met and talked ot him a few times. It’s no big deal. But coworkers know I’m all crushed out and I anticipate possible humiliation tonight. At least I’m prepared for it, right?

I simply can not remember the last time I was this tired. It’s not like I didn’t get enough sleep or anything. It’s overall fatigue. I feel like I can barely stand up. I got 8 eight hours of sleep last night. I had a shower (finally!), coffee, food, everything, and yet, wow, I could sleep for another day or so. My body is so sore from moving and working and generally being an iniquitous miscreant.

We are all moved into our awesome new house. Unpacked is a whole nother story. One which I suspect won’t be told for a while. I am to worn out to even think about it really. My head keeps filling up with what I need to do and then it runs out again. I’d write it all down, but I don’t know what box any of the pens and paper are in.

The new orange crème frappuccino and orange & cream coffee cake at Starbucks? Are perhaps some of the best things ever created. Well, created by Starbucks. Topped only by that pomegranate icee thing that have/had. Mmmm. Also Starbucks has some coffee cups that I really want. Being broke I can’t possibly get them, but if you are feeling rich and frivolous feel free to get me the ones with the little saucers and the different berries on them because they are perhaps the cutest thing ever. And wow, I just went looking for pictures, but boy were they hard to find. Here’s the raspberry one, but I can’t find anything of the other designs. Hmmmphff. They aren’t as cute when you don’t see all the different berries together. Sort of like nail polish, how it looks good in the display with ALL the colors, but not so much when you get the just one color home.

Um, I’ve descended into rambling. Best go direct what mental capabilities I have to work then, eh?

(Boy-o, am I off today, I wrote this like three hours ago and never managed to actually post it. *sigh*)

pee ess, brynwulf sent me this lovely icon saying it reminded her of moving, but I think it’s more about running away from home. Which is what I want to do every time I think about unpacking. I hate moving. Wah wah wah boo hoo, I have to do work to have nicer place to live, oh pity me. Yeah, shutting up now, I know, okay?

It hasn’t been a good day so far. And LJ isn’t even sending me comments. But apparently, I’m still so shallow as to be easily distracted, even when things aren’t great.

Some things are perhaps explained better in their original IM conversations:

me: UM UM UM
Shirtless, blond, hot guy mowing the lawn in front of my office

supergrover: good god. go outside for a smoke

me: I can’t. he can’t be more than 17 or 18

supergrover: so? he’s eyecandy

me: no, it’s too close. my office is an old converted victorian house. the yard is small
the porch takes up half of it so even when he’s on the other side of the yard he wouldn’t be more than 15 or 20 feet away

supergrover: ah

me: god
he has a totally pouty babyface
he looks like some actor
I can’t pin down who though

me: Fuck
I wish I could take a picture without him noticing

supergrover: hee!

me: seriously
you’d die
he looks like he was cast in gay porn as the yard boy

[[other conversation, and then]]

me: oh
now he has a weed whacker
but he put on a shirt
damn it

supergrover: hahaha
nice arms?

me: oh god yes
muscles pulling across his collar bone and chest

supergrover: oh

me: arms you could barely wrap the fingers of both hands around
but still

supergrover: oooooh

me: lean in than teenage way

supergrover: i love that way

me: and pouty pouty pouty face

supergrover: maybe he’s 21?

me: Hahahaha

supergrover: you should offer him an iced beverage

Last night we saw Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End

Because we can’t do anything in a normal, reasonable, planned sort of way, we are moving. Next weekend. We have to be out of here by the 27th. We just found out for sure today. Anyone with a history of reading this knows I hate moving. It causes me completely unfathomable, pointless stress. Indeed I rarely have stress dreams about school, missed exams, being naked or whatever. No, my stress dreams are almost always about moving. Bleh.

However.

New place? So motherfucking awesome. It’s same house we live in now, just the MUCH bigger apartment in front. There’s some pictures here, although I should have taken some of the porch and the front of the house too. Maybe later.

Hmmm, looking at the pictures calmed me a bit, but I’m sure in a few minutes I will go back to completely freaking out about money (and packing and unpacking and everything). Should anyone win the lottery this week, please think of me when you’re deciding how to spend it! Ha, or I guess I’d have as much luck buying my own lottery ticket.

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summer toes,
originally uploaded by crackerjackheart.

It’s cold in my office. This necessitates periodic breaks to go sit on the porch in the sun.

My begging worked. brynwulf came through for me and made me shiny new icons. Then I got so sick of the old ones, I trashed them all and went and swiped some more from slodwick. Now I feel they are appropriately seasonal and happy making, though I think I need a good cranky day one still.

Okay, I’ve been trying to sell you all on Tom Morton, and I suspect thus far, I’m having no effect. So here’s the playlist from his most recent show: surely it’s got something you love and something you’ve been waiting to discover

Last night I dreamt

I have sent so many texts, emails, IMs and MySpace messages in the last couple days that have gone unanswered that I’m starting to question my own existence. Did I die and I don’t remember? Am I an invisible vestige of my own soul floating around trying to live my normal existence but no one can see me or hear me? If I am, then why would I torture myself my by having shitty nights at work? Shouldn’t I at least create a better fake existence for myself?

It was actually almost chilly last night, but this morning it’s lovely, perfect weather. Upper 60s/low 70s, breezy, sunny PERFECTION. I took a quick break at work this morning, went and sat in the sun on the porch and painted my toenails. Now I’m walking around the office barefoot, which feels sort of spring-like and lovely too.

Do I need a huge thing of butterscotch hard candies on my desk? No. Do I have any willpower to prevent me from eating all of them? No!

I need more spring icons.

I might give my little toe to be able to spend the rest of the day lying in the grass reading.

I went to the video transfer place this morning and holy hotness is the girl there amazing. She’s all tall and pretty and hip and funky. She has blue stars tattooed up her arm. Man, I need to find reasons to hang out at the video transfer place in 100 Oaks. Does anyone needs VHS transfered to DVD or whatever? Seriously mail it to me and I’ll take in to this place. What? No, it’s not exactly stalking…

I was driving back from 100 Oaks, thinking how I’d post this whole ranty thing about drivers in Nashville and blah blah blah. But it’s pointless. No one here can drive. Hell, my driving seems to be worse the longer I’m here.

When I came out of the post office this morning, I found myself whistling “Walk Like an Egyptian.” What is that about? I mean, really, how long has it been since I even heard that song? What made it come into my mind? I was listening to Wilco’s “Box Full of Letters” when I got out of the car. There was no music playing in the post office, so where, oh where did that song come from?

ETA: Shooter Jennings is reproducing? Oh yuck, yuck, yuck. My only hope here is that Shooter is the Hank Jr of his legacy and therefore his kid will be the next Hank III.

Nights Like These – Lucero (click to download)

No Going Back – Matthew Ryan (click to download)

Oh my fucking god, people! Please form a line to the left to fuck off and die. Well, not you all, but everyone else. Seriously, all the people I have to talk to because of work? AUGH. I can not believe what unreasonable expectations some people have from the world and I am sooo not in the mood to deal with it. I think I still get into heaven for not murdering people when I want to, right? Is that how it works? On a related note, if you happen to pass me on the street today, or something, I would suggest not talking to me. If I wasn’t so full of hate I might have pity for anyone who is going to be forced to interact with me. I swear if the customers tonight aren’t all polite, perfect and otherwise meeting whatever random, exacting standards I set, I might, in fact, set them all on fire, one by one, as they leave the restaurant.

Pandora will not work for me so no music on the job today.

I have a headache. Well, not so much a headache as a violent pounding in my brain and a generally very negative mental attitude.

I’m still behind on emails. Both reading and answering.

I have an Amazon gift certificate. I can not decide what to buy with it. I thought it would cheer me up, but so far, no.

I owe answers to a million emails, which I’ll confess right here that I haven’t even read yet. I’m feeling sort of avoidant this week and I can’t turn off for work or my home or personal life, so the internet is bearing the brunt of my avoidance. I’m sorry, I swear, I’ll get back to all of you ASAP.

If you sent me a b-day present, I swear I loved it and again, personal notes coming soon, once I feel a little less overwhelmed and completely insane.

The week before last was foot injuries for me, last week was knees and thighs, this week it appears burning is my form of punishment. Last night I managed to eat scalding pizza with out ever burning my tongue or the roof of my mouth! However, I scalded my lip and it blistered. Very attractive, let me tell you! Even before that, I may have spent a good portion of Sunday lounging with my girls (K and miss Sparkle) in the sun. You all know what me in the sun means right? scary photographic evidence

I had the iPod on shuffle on the way into work, here’s what it gave me:

Cory Branan’s “Crackerjack Heart”
Steve Earle’s “I Thought You should Know”
Todd Snider’s “Lonely Girl”
Jimmie Dale Gilmore’s “Headed for a Fall”
Whiskeytown’s “Sit Up and Listen to the Radio”
Matthew Ryan’s “Devastation”

Which has left me feeling oddly melancholy and wondering once again, in a tin hat, crazy lady sort of way, if the old iPod isn’t trying to send me some message. The message of today would apparently be, “Yes, you destined to be lonely.” Which I totally reject, so now I’m wondering if I shouldn’t try and take these songs, in this order, and write a short story around them.

We’re having an odd second spring here. All the trees that turned black or brown in the hard frost a couple weeks ago are finally showing signs of life again–they are covered in those soft greenish, reddish, sort of chartruese, not quite yellow fuzzy bed of new leaves. But they are pushing in under the dead black or brown leaves, giving the whole thing and weird sort of layered look. It makes me happy though, I was worried the trees wouldn’t recover. I should have known better, Tennessee is verdant to say the least.

I have a sudden urge to start wearing drawstring pants and sandals all the time. I don’t know what that’s about. All the hippies at both my jobs?

Speaking of jobs, funny story: At my day job, coworker A (who needs nickname, hmmm) wasn’t in the office at all yesterday, as he was in legislative sessions. So he called me often to get info for him or help him out with something. Fine, no trouble at all. I get to restaurant last night, and right after we open, I get a call for a take-out order, and it’s, you guessed it, coworker A! He recognized my voice on the phone and was all apologetic. “I feel weird asking you for food, after everything else you do during the day.” Heee! I assured him I was glad to be helpful on all fronts.

Both jobs continue to be pretty awesome. I don’t believe I’ve ever liked a single job as much as I like either of my jobs. I feel pretty lucky to have them both. Now if only they paid more for less hours.

Thanks so so so much to the anonymous benefactor who filled in my paid time here, so I have all my icons back. You are made of awesome. I guess I better go find some more awesome icons so I can do you justice for your gift.

And now I work.

I am, after a conversation I had this morning, completely and utterly obsessed with a tattoo idea. A riff on the classic man’s ruin design, altered for my own ruin. It’d be like a hot cowboy, a bottle of whiskey, books (of lurid poetry, though I suppose no one would know what the books were unless I told them), cash, a guitar (with some musical notes or something) and, um, what else? Suggestions? It’s be in very classic 40s tattoo flash style and cover my whole forearm. Clearly I’d need to win the lottery before I did this, so future employment wouldn’t be a problem. And obviously many other people thought of this before me. Amusing geek version. And woman’s ruin, though not my ruin specifically. I seriously want this so badly I can practically taste it. Also I want a pirate tattoo. And the HCT logo. And some other stuff. I guess I’ll buy a lottery ticket on my way home.

In the mean time, let’s play some songs, shall we?

The Jayhawks – Waiting for the Sun (click to download) – I’m not really, this song always makes me think of Seattle though, in sweet, melancholy sort of way.

Girls, Guns and Glory – Beautiful Girls (click to download) – God I love this band, more on them soon.

Bobby Bare Jr – Visit Me in Music City (click to download) – An open invitation to all of you.

The Carter Administration – Don’t Mess with Tennessee (click to download) – Seriously, man, don’t, it’s home now.

Scott Miller & The Commonwealth – Freedom’s a Stranger (click to download) – About growing up, which I’m not really doing, but getting older anyway. It’s been stuck in my head for days.

And a shout out to chelseapeal for thinking of me today. She rocks. Speaking of folks rocking, birthday thank yous coming just as soon as I stop obsessing over tattoos and get some actual work done.

(Damn it my paid acct expired and I thought I didn’t care, but, woe, my icons are gone. Boo.)