Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Friendship Wanted, Inquire within

Theres definitely something I missed about living in an apartment complex. It may sound crazy a bit but I miss having neighbors in mass quantities. What I dont miss is how hard it is to engage them in conversation.  I got used to living in military housing where the moment you drive up to your new house, chances are your neighbors are lining your sidewalk like a welcoming committee.

Granted they're only there to be nosey most of the time.

Though there was that one time I drove up a while after the Ex had started to unload the moving truck and happened upon my next door neighbors and their kids talking to him. I later found out that their observation of my Ex and his work buddy unloading led them to think they were a gay couple and they wanted first dibs on the friendship possibility.
This was previous to the repelling of Dont ask Dont tell so I am not sure WHAT exactly gave them that impression but it humours me to this day.

Ahhh...good times.

At any rate, the only person I have befriended as of yet is my mailman. How unlikely is that?? He comes about 6 times a week, for 10-15 minutes and is then gone again.
As it seems to be the typical way to find me, I met Mr. C my first true day at the apartment when I arrived at my door and found my key faulty.
Two locks. One key. No ENTRY.

Ye Shall Not Pass! said the bronze knobs.

Ye shall tremble at the hands of a lock smith!, I replied.

Except the locksmith (a maintenance worker I had to go seek by foot), was chatty.
"Did you try both locks?"
Well no, I batted my eyes and nothing happened so I hailed a true knight to aid me in my time of distress.
"Yes. Yes I did."
Blink.Blink.
"Hmm. Maybe you have the wrong key?"
GENIUS
"I just moved in. I dont know whats wrong I just know the key wont work"
"Hmm...Ok...is there another key?"
"If I HAD another key I would of tried it. Look Im not trying to be a dramatic bitch but I am tired, been up since 5 and I REALLY just want to lay in bed for a few minutes before my kids arrive."
"Oh. Ok. Well. See. Im going to rekey it for you. I will have to get my tools from my truck so that I can unfasten the bolts----"
Thats about as far into his love affair with locks as I got before I tuned out and my eyes glazed over.
Im TIRED dude. And im quickly losing my ability to keep my mouth in check. Im trying to be patient as he turns into Charlie Brown's teacher when I note the mailman peeking over his shoulder with a grin. He catches me looking and he shakes his head.
Good. Im not out of place to say:
"Alright really, I get that and its nice but thats MY dog you hear whining on the other side of the door having to go piss with an urgency and besides not wanting him to relieve himself on the carpet I am truly RUNNING OUT OF TIME before my kids return and I would REALLY like to catch a nap. That said, do what you must but PLEASE, let me in!"

Mr. C is an elderly black man with an easy chuckle and an obvious enjoyment of things being said as they are.
"You'll be alright, girl. You're funny though...talking like that. Good GAWD have mercy...heres your mail, now go on and get a nap!"
Seems Cerb knows him now too. I was sitting, as is my habit now, on the floor of the balcony one afternoon when out dashed my hell-hound bent on giving someone a piece of his mind. Across from my building Mr. C was getting out of his postal truck, laughing and waving at us.

I wish it was that easy to make friends with others here in the complex.
Its not that Im shy, its that I fear that I may come off as too forward. Or odd.
Maybe even crazy?
Pff. Right. Im no where NEAR crazy O_o
But...
I sit here on the balcony floor, my ass going horribly numb with pin pricks and the likes, smoking a cigarette and others are doing much the same.
Some are leaning over banisters, some sitting on the stair case. Others in their cars, doors open, music playing. Those with better regards for their behinds, have patio sets.
Im tempted to walk over and say: "Hi. I noticed we've got a few things in common: smoking, insomnia, numb arses, and possibly loneliness. Lets be friends!"
Maybe that only works in the military where you can offer a complete stranger cat litter cake and/or candy on halloween late at night when you can barely make out their face and they suddenly become family.
Or maybe I need to learn a new way to make friends.
Id put an ad out on craigslist but Id like to live to a ripe old age.

Friday, May 25, 2012

Smart Mouth for Hire

I'm sure that my neighbors must think that I am a high executive at some snazzy office in downtown DC.
After all I have all the tell tale signs:


  • Every morning this week I have walked out of the apartment in a business suit, hair pulled back, large stack of papers in a file, laptop case, mug of coffee, and huge dark tint sunglasses. 
  • I'm often found checking my iPhone and imputing some quick notes.
  • I don't smile. 
  • I arrive home looking slightly wrecked but still monkey-suited, coffee mug in hand. 
  • If you catch me any time after that, I'm in jeans and a tee and no shoes (damn those heels!) looking slightly bewildered. 


I mean, I'm only guessing but from what I've glimpsed in DC those fellas are no joke. They walk brisk. They look intense, and there's always the suits, coffee, and cases.
I could be completely wrong though because if anyone takes my above description and labels me one of the elite DC-tonians (is that the term?!) then I'm sure I'm wrong too because:


  • The suit and accessories are for the 3 billion interviews/job fairs I have attended this week. 
  • I check my iPhone for the time. Then check it again because I didn't actually note the time. Then turn it back on to figure out where the hell I'm supposed to be going anyhow. 
  • Smiling implies happiness. I. AM. NOT. HAPPY. Something about trying to sell myself off like a hooker to some executive or his minion isn't appealing to me. I save my smiles for the line-up.
  • I arrived wrecked possibly because I'm sure Ive shook hands with at least 40 different possible employers and had to put on the charm each time. Its exhausting. And germy...I'm also possibly wrecked because Ive attempted to tear off my coat jacket while driving down I295 and failed. Managing to extract one arm while doing the driver's side shimmy isn't easy but its apparently entertaining to fellow traffic members. 
  • Anything remotely normal and requiring no acting skills has become suspicious. What do you MEAN I can just walk up to the mail box and no ones going to question me where I see myself 5 minutes after retrieving the junk mail? Or why I believe I'm the best choice for it? Its because there are bills in this stack ...AREN'T THERE?!
Here's a little thing I have learned about job fairs. They're like cheap and/or free advertising for big companies. It must be. Otherwise why would they sit there with all the advertising propaganda and sales schpeals but no job applications. All the online job fair tips Ive read tell you to bring as many copies of your resume as you can carry without your arms falling off, yet when you meet with a representative they hand you a card/flyer and tell you that they don't accept resumes in person. You must log on and put your resume on their data base, in case they have an opening. So why even come out to the job fair if they're not offering interviews and aren't willing to take your printed sales pitch? At the end of the day I was loaded up on corporate goodies which I shoved into some company's printed tote and left with maybe 6 or 7 less resumes than I arrived with.

I'm trying not to despair... but I'm not fond of the circus act. Why cant I just get paid for being witty and sitting at home sipping coffee all while browsing pinterest?

That's right. Because I got fired from being a SAHM :/

Someone pass me a beer.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Deja Poo

Im not trying to be vulgar but really, I think my life revolves around shit.
Thats shit.
This is THE shit.
Shit, what did you do??
What IS this shit?
This shit is good!
I've got shit to do.
He's got shit for brains.
And today:
She shit on the carpet.
I bet you can guess who that was.

Yep. Aeva.

I was putting around with ideas of how to return from my little absence these last few days when I had something of a deja vu.

Aeva pulling down her pants with that look on her face that says "im in way over my head",  and smears of .... stuff... on her backside. Sound familiar? No? Go back and read my first post ever. Trust me, youll be sitting there cringing along with me.

This time however, Iris was with me and we both sprang to action like super awesome super heros. I went for both of Aevas hands (learned that lesson!), and she went for wipes. Completely disabled from being able to perform further damage, Iris led Aeva away to the confines of the bare bathroom (we've yet to get our home goods) and I quickly disinfected the carpet before it set it. Something about Camden Apartments not liking the idea of me cutting a chunk of carpet out for sanitary reasons.

We are so classy we ended up dousing Aeva with a rinsed out Slurpee cup.

I cannot wait till I am out of this ridiculous potty training stage. It feels like it will take FOREVER to get Aeva to dispose of her nuclear waste in the john rather than the local surroundings. Its also not cool that I spent most of my 36 hours of driving from Texas to Maryland reaching behind me to squeeze the groin diaper area in order to determine if we needed the upteenth pit stop that HOUR.

Speaking of that trip. Ta-Daa! We made it! A tad belated but its been busy boys and girls! Ive been walking the interview strip in my knee high hooker heels (discreetly hidden under my very professional slacks mind you) tooting my goodies (aka skill sets and job experience) and handing out my resume like its no ones business. But...hopefully becomes someones business..never mind. You get it Im sure.

Anyhow, like any good kid recently scrubbed raw clean from a messy moment, Aeva donned her ballet shoes and took her sister out for a spin on the dance floor/ painfully bare livingroom. I took some cute shots (even one where Aeva did some overtly dramatic face-first faint) but theres not frick fracking way to get it OFF my phone and onto this damned thing so if anyone figures it out for me, you get kudos. And brownies maybe. Or just brownie points. I dont have any of my home goods :(




Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Snarky Dark Bitch

If I close my eyes and just use my imagination...then I am sitting here at Panera Bread in San Diego with my laptop, a coffee, and a bagel typing away my newest novel. Not a care in the world and no rush to get anywhere.
That is, until, my nose starts to run like a faucet because I apparently choose the most unseasonably cold week to visit sunny California.
Theres also the 3 infants at the table next to me (each with a respective mother, dont worry...) and a very pregnant mom-to-be (no shes not one of the ones with an infant...I hope). The babies have been having a conversation of their own since before I set up beside them outside in the chilly weather and I have been trying ever so hard not to ask if I can hold one.
Creepy...I know. But I miss my own two babies. I have not been able to talk to them much since I have been out here because the Ex's phone unexpectedly broke and so phone calls do not go through. FaceTime requires WiFi that just isnt universally accessible so I have only seen their bright faces maybe 2 or 3 times since Friday last.
Needless to say, I am having withdrawls. The good news is I leave tomorrow but probably wont arrive till friday thanks to the grey hound bus schedule.
Im honest to goodness ready to end this less than eventful trip. It was a good idea but I dont think im meant to be a gypsy without my two blondies tagging along and making any trip 10 times its usual hassle.
So heres the real reason I logged on and pulled up a post. Ive come to the realization that I am a dark (read negative) snarky bitch.
Lets raise a poll.
Agree?
Disagree?
Rather not invoke my possible wrath?
Ok so yes. I am having some terrible luck and its almost a complete continuation of the last few YEARS. Can you honestly blame me for getting to the point where I just sit and sulk and yell at lovers kissing because I am one bitter bitch about anyone being happy right now?
Alright I dont yell. I just give them the stink eye.
It extends beyond that however. I have friends on 3 different fronts as we speak. There are those who are willing to sit by me and nod and rub my back and generally ignore my ill moods except to try sweetening them with little bribes of coffee and pictures of monkeys sniffing their butts and fainting.  They know that im being exactly who I am and that I will eventually walk out of it. Theyre trying to be encouraging.
Theres the polar opposite friends who feel I need to snap out of this black hole of a depression with a dose of reality, bootstraps, and tough love. They dont allow me my antics and generally snarl right back at me when I show teeth. They dont think my ways are healthy and so they want to save me from myself. They too are trying to be encouraging.
I think the third pool of friends are in shock. Theyre there and they speak when spoken to but for the most part resemble those comical 'see no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil' monkeys (what the heck is up with monkeys?!)
If I fake the positivity then I am not being myself. If I continue with my snarky bad moods, then I am being hurtful. Theres no win here for anyone it seems.
Geezus its so damn cold out here my fingers and brain cant interact coherently. My brain is working out knots in this argument that really should be put to page but my fingers are doing sgwruc92rcpa;102@#!# so often that I think Im gonna pack up and go HOME. I think my neurons are feeling some frost.
Alright. Heres the gong (GONG!!) anddd..... DISCUSS!