Grow for Me

March 26, 2011 at 3:20 pm (Randomness, Weekend Update)

It’s spring. Everything’s blooming, although we’re having a rather rainy couple of weeks in sunny Los Angeles. In the midst of the rain and trying to get my apartment finished and the bookkeeping I have to do before Friday, I spent about an hour yesterday selecting plants and a couple of new pots at Home Depot. Spent a little too much money on the pots, but I really like them. I buy the smallest plants they have because they’re the cheapest, and I don’t feel so bad when I kill them, which I do with alarming frequency. Oh, I’d love to say I have a green thumb, but it’s more black than green, kind of a dark olive-gray. But I enjoy plants, and surprisingly, I like playing in the dirt. I think I’ve figured out that when there are no worms, slugs, or snails involved, I’m much happier with said dirt. And the only bugs I have to deal with in potting soil are the stupid plant mites. I’m not fond of dirty fingernails and cleaning up afterwards is not really fun, either, but the couple of hours I spent repotting older plants and potting the new ones was…soothing.

So if I’m going to analyze this whole plant thing I’d venture to say I want to see things of my own making start to grow because we’re not yet on that 100% path to the baby thing. Then there’s the whole fertility, soil, blah, blah, blah…Also, I need something to take care of, given that my girlfriend is out of town for 2 weeks and when she’s not around I don’t leave my house or talk to anyone. So…plants. I haven’t started talking to them, yet. I have had that song from Little Shop of Horrors going through my head all day, though.

Hopefully they’ll live for a while. They’re mostly palms and tropicals but I did get a hydrangea because I missed having them (they lined the exterior wall of our old apartment, you know, where we liked our neighbors and never had to call the cops and stuff). I do have one plant that’s managed to stay alive, despite my best efforts, for around 4 1/2 years. Even when I neglect him for weeks and he gets all wilted he seems to always come back like a champ. My father is jealous – he has the same type of plant but it never looks as healthy as Bob. I bought Bob some friends to put in his pot and fill in some bare spots so hopefully he’ll stay happy and healthy.

Incidentally, did you know drilling holes into ceramic causes an unholy screeching sound? I think I did, given that I sawed through some tiles in my aunt’s bathroom a few years ago, but I’d blissfully forgotten the experience. So when I drilled drainage holes into 2 of the pots yesterday, my ears rang for about 5 hours afterwards. Nice. I have to drill the holes, though. I tend to drown plants. I try to be disciplined and not overwater, but I forget or they start to look droopy or somesuch thing and I think, “Hey, I’ll just give it a little bit more water…” and before you know it, drowned, dead plant.

Here’s to keeping all the plants alive for a while, and oxygenating and cleaning the air in my house without having to turn on my air filters.

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Back on the Wagon

March 21, 2011 at 9:58 pm (Healthy...?, Randomness)

I worked out tonight for the first time since…early February, I think. The motivator? My choir is going to be used in a pilot that shoots next Friday. I have 12 days to not look like a beached whale on tv. That means cardio & abs every day and weights every other day. And no more See’s Candy. Or pizza. Or anything else that my parents brought with them when they stayed here this past weekend.

 

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You Are Getting Sleepy…

February 23, 2011 at 8:58 pm (Randomness)

Exhausted. I’ve been working on our downstairs apartment, trying to get it ready for us to move in. Today I finished painting the bathrooms, now I’ve just got to install the casing, door stops, and baseboards and my part will be done. I hope. Next come vanities, mirrors, medicine cabinets, towel bars, and lighting.

Then we’ve got to get the leaky wall fixed, windows replaced, and carpet. AND THEN maybe we can move in. There’s still the kitchen to do, though.

UGH. So much to do, and I’ve no idea when I’m supposed to finish my contract gig (which I’m only supposed to be doing til March 31st).

I’m sure that there is a way to hypnotize myself awake and able to do stuff for more than 5 hours a day.

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Dyke-y Hair

February 5, 2011 at 8:28 pm (Randomness) (, , )

It sits just about collar length, layered, no bangs. My friend cut it so that I can make the ends flip/look fringe-y all around my head. It’s not long enough for a ponytail.

I have dyke hair. At least I think I look more like a lesbian this way. The long hair just wasn’t what I wanted anymore. So now comes the fun part – testing to see if other lesbians notice me now. I’m not looking for flirting or being chatted up or anything like that. Just the acknowledging nod. That would make me feel so much better.

What would make me feel even better? Getting to order a suit from here. I need to find a tailor who will make me something custom. I’m sure I could find one around here but whether or not they’d agree to make me a 3 piece suit is another thing entirely. Off to google now…

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It’s Only Because I Don’t Have Insurance

January 21, 2011 at 9:02 pm (Healthy...?, Randomness)

That my tooth hurts (I was supposed to get a filling 2 weeks ago but if I have to pay out of pocket I’ll wait til I get an abscess, I suppose) and I’ve managed to mangle my foot. I’ve been driving a lot for work and the fact that I push down on the pedals with my big toe has contributed to the sharp pain in the joint at the base of my toe. It’s swollen to the point where I can’t put on my tennis shoes. And I have to have some sort of support under my foot (therefore I can’t wear flip flops) in order to walk or drive. I probably aggravated it more when I worked out Wednesday night (so this means I’m not working out til it feels a little better. How’s that for a lame excuse for not exercising?) and when I got out of bed yesterday morning I fell to my knees when I tried to stand up. Oh, the joys of getting older.

Also, there are the joys of googling joint pain and swollen feet. WebMD is a favorite for self-diagnosis, too. I’ve come up with arthritis from overuse of the joint. Or an infection. If it’s the latter I guess I’ll have to go to the ER when gangrene sets in. So thanks, Washington, for passing health reform and then repealing it. Or whatever it is you doofuses (hey, I pay taxes, therefore I’m helping to pay for your insurance, why can’t you let me be insured, too?) are doing over there while I sit here self medicating with a pain pill and a beer. So nice of you to decide that it’s going to cost too much money to pay for coverage for the average American. Reality check, please.

A friend of mine who has insurance through work said he’ll marry me so I’ll have insurance. I’ve offered to fix anything he needs at his house in exchange. Wonder if that’ll really work out. Probably not, since everyone who knows him at his office knows he’s gayer than Liberace. They know his boyfriend, too. Oh well.

 

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New Year Funk

January 19, 2011 at 12:29 am (Navel Gazing, Randomness)

I’ve been kind of…down for the past couple of weeks. I’m tired, grouchy, snippy, and generally not all that fun to be around. And I’m eating like crazy (although I’ve managed to stay away from McDonald’s, thankyouverymuch) so I’m either permanently PMSing or I’m depressed. I was pretty jazzed after the conversation I had with my girlfriend during our drive back to Los Angeles after New Year’s but since then it’s been kind of hard to stay positive and upbeat about this year being the kid year. Insurance is still up in the air. I have no steady job. My girlfriend wants to quit her job. We live in a temporary apartment and moving into our “new” apartment is going to take longer and more money than we thought. There are still roaches in said “new” apartment.

UGH. Roaches.

I have to stop now so I can go shower. Just thinking about roaches makes me want to move out of our building. Too bad I have no money.

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Anti-Social Behavior

January 14, 2011 at 6:08 pm (Randomness, TGF)

So I’ve got this gig working as a contract hire for a company in Texas. Said company has been given the task of replacing the computer desks in a bunch of retail stores. My job is to first look at each backroom/computer desk and determine if they get a new one (every one so far is a “yes”). I’ve spent the last couple of weeks going from store to store, taking pictures and measurements, which is fine but it’s forced me to be…nice and personable with complete strangers. That’s a bit out of my comfort zone. At least I know what I’m doing and our interactions haven’t been more than 5 minutes at a time, tops. But this renders me tired and mute when I get home. Or when talking on the phone with my girlfriend.

We can add to that the 2 guys who’ve been doing some work on the apartment downstairs, both of whom like to talk. Yay. So while they’ve been here, I’ve had to be more social than normal in my own house, so to speak. Again, this makes the time I’m not talking to strangers or bullshitting with the guys tiling my bathrooms my private time to just…be not talking to anyone. Which I’m not sure my girlfriend gets. But on top of all the social-ness of the past 2 weeks, this afternoon my girlfriend asked me to go to a screening of a movie in West Hollywood. Which would have been ok (slightly better) had we still been living in Los Angeles proper, because the drive might not have taken half the night. As it is, though, making that drive from here? Not happening on a Friday night. I know I disappointed her because I didn’t want to go. I know she wants to spend time together but I just couldn’t make myself go. And I know that even if I’d gone out tonight, I would’ve been grumpy and not nice. I’m at my limit of polite and courteous, and who better to take that out on than the woman who loves me? Doesn’t make sense but that’s likely how it would go. So I live with the fact that I disappointed her, even though I really hate that and wish things were different.

Now I’m going to compound the ant-social behavior by changing into my pajamas and curling up with a book. And maybe opening a can of soup for dinner. Happy Friday!

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No Walking and Chewing Gum

January 9, 2011 at 1:12 am (Baby on the Brain, Randomness) (, , )

I am not a multitasker. I do not possess the skills required to do more than one thing at a time. That does not serve me well when I’m on the computer, on the phone, or driving. My girlfriend knows that I can’t listen to her if I’m working on a project (but she still talks to me anyway). She multitasks with the best of them, so she acknowledges my one-thing-at-a-timeness, but is unable to truly get it.

I can’t even listen to music if I’m trying to read or fill out paperwork. Some people need music or tv to fall asleep, I can only go to sleep if there’s no noise. Hence my need for earplugs (well, my girlfriend snores, too, but that’s another blog post).

This inability makes me worry about when we have kids. I’m never going to be able to get anything done if I have to finish one task before I can start another. At best, I’ll start a whole lot of stuff, get distracted, move onto a whole lot of other stuff, and have a half diapered child waiting to be fed while I’m in another room trying to pay bills or cleaning the microwave.

Another thing that worries me about this potential child? I stress out easily. To compensate I usually need a day all to myself to decompress. Like today–I cleaned the house, did the laundry, did some really anal-retentive things with my contacts list in my Outlook (I accidentally erased all of my contacts a couple of days ago. Talk about stress), and didn’t talk to anyone. All in all, I had a very good day. But I figure I’m not going to get a whole lot of these kinds of days when we have offspring. I don’t know how my mother did it. I mean, she’s one of the most independent, I-like-being-by-myself people I know. Does being a parent make you less selfish? I certainly hope it does for me.

I had a point to this post but I was sidetracked by watering my plants. Then I tripped on the way to the sink and had to clean up the water off the floor. Which led to getting out the mop. And now I’m too tired to do anything but stare at the words I’ve just typed.

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Waiting for Inspiration to Strike

January 7, 2011 at 10:16 pm (Randomness)

But instead I feel as if I’ve been hit by a truck. I started a temporary contract gig and I’ve been driving around for miles and miles. It’s actually kind of fun, I’m seeing parts of Los Angeles that I’ve not seen before. Now that I have, I’ll probably never go back. Still, who knew the terrain was so different in places like Topanga Canyon? The north end of the Valley and Ventura County are vastly different from Los Angeles proper. And even further, culturally speaking, from where we live now. I’ve driven over 500 miles in the past 3 days, over 1,000 miles from December 31-January 3. Is it any wonder I’m about to pass out at 10:15 on a Friday night? It’s either that or do the 4 loads of laundry that are sitting on the floor of our bedroom. Or vacuum. I think maybe I’ll go to bed early and start on it all tomorrow.

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A Minute to Talk About My Boobs

December 19, 2010 at 10:29 pm (Healthy...?, Randomness) (, , )

Ok, maybe more than a minute. In the past 3 or 4 months, I’ve noticed that my normally 34AAA cups increase in size right around the time I’m ovulating, making their presence known for a good week before resuming their regularly scheduled programming. They’re markedly bigger. Like, I might have to buy a different sized bra to wear when I’m ovulating bigger. This may not seem like a big deal to most people (or maybe it is, I don’t usually discuss my boobage with other people, you’re just lucky!) but for someone who’s always had a flat chest, the increased size is, well, totally bizarre.

I’ve had conversations with women who have bigger than average tatas and heard many of their complaints about bras, playing sports, people who talk to their chests, etc., and while I’m never going to have even average sized breasts, I’m beginning to realize what they’re talking about when they say that wearing sports bras and trying to run without crossing their arms over their chests is a bouncy, painful, I-may-lose-an-eyeball kind of experience. I can usually wear tank tops with a built in bra and not feel like everything’s hanging out. Not so with my hormonal boobs. I mean, I have cleavage. For real. Even┬áconfining them to a sports bra still gives me more of a chest than I’m used to. They’re, ahem, grabbable. Now that’s weird.

Only don’t grab them. Don’t touch them. They hurt. At least for the first day. 2nd and 3rd aren’t so bad. But that 1st day? I can’t even dry them off after my shower.

Thus concludes my post about my boobs. I’m sure there will be more.

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