Because Jenny is freakin genius, and because my neuroses know no bounds, I have a new blog.
If you are a reader or a lurker, please email me (or post a comment here) and I'll send you the url.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
ok, maybe roaches aren't my biggest worry
Before scooping up the roach and taking it outside, I listened.
Apparently there's a stabbing nearly in progress. Not quite, but plenty of threats. "Put that knife away, man!"
Yeah, I just called the cops. Now I hear vehicles. Lots of voices. Some descalation. I just asked them to send a cruiser through to help with the situation. No need for a big arrival with lights and adrenaline - just cruise through and see what's up. And let's make it not obvious that I called, k?
The roach can stay right there until tomorrow morning. I may be getting desensitized to killing those with exoskeletons, but I'm not into the killing of people.
So, I hear them driving all away, no more voices. Here's hoping that they worked it all out and the moment has passed forever.
I may be that crazy teacher who jumps into fights between students, but I ain't jumping into a stabbing. I ain't that stupid, quite. I mean, I guess if I were out there and it came to me, of course I'd get involved. But I'm in here, and despite Herman telling me (when I explained about my home as my sanctuary should be roach free and I should feel 100% safe) that I shouldn't ever feel 100% safe, not even at home, I do feel pretty darn safe. And I'm going to get some chains to put on my doors. Just as another measure.
Apparently there's a stabbing nearly in progress. Not quite, but plenty of threats. "Put that knife away, man!"
Yeah, I just called the cops. Now I hear vehicles. Lots of voices. Some descalation. I just asked them to send a cruiser through to help with the situation. No need for a big arrival with lights and adrenaline - just cruise through and see what's up. And let's make it not obvious that I called, k?
The roach can stay right there until tomorrow morning. I may be getting desensitized to killing those with exoskeletons, but I'm not into the killing of people.
So, I hear them driving all away, no more voices. Here's hoping that they worked it all out and the moment has passed forever.
I may be that crazy teacher who jumps into fights between students, but I ain't jumping into a stabbing. I ain't that stupid, quite. I mean, I guess if I were out there and it came to me, of course I'd get involved. But I'm in here, and despite Herman telling me (when I explained about my home as my sanctuary should be roach free and I should feel 100% safe) that I shouldn't ever feel 100% safe, not even at home, I do feel pretty darn safe. And I'm going to get some chains to put on my doors. Just as another measure.
do they make holsters for Raid?
Because my aim is getting better, but the can isn't always at hand. I'm 2 for 2 though, baby. And I'm not in love with seeing them in their death throes, and I'm not in love with breathing all the poison in, but I'm getting over it. Shoes, I don't always get them. Raid - it's a gift from heaven.
Apparently there is some HUGE flashing neon sign at some aperture in my home, which cries out in full Vegas style, "Roaches enter here!" I heard batting at the window and then I saw the bugger - so apparently I need to do some weatherstripping tomorrow. Alone, since my Hot Honduran is departing - and finds other things more important than continuously weatherstripping for me.
Anyway, I'm sleeping with the freakin Raid already. Do not judge me. I'd take the Hot Honduran back to bed if he'd take away this recent carcass.
Apparently there is some HUGE flashing neon sign at some aperture in my home, which cries out in full Vegas style, "Roaches enter here!" I heard batting at the window and then I saw the bugger - so apparently I need to do some weatherstripping tomorrow. Alone, since my Hot Honduran is departing - and finds other things more important than continuously weatherstripping for me.
Anyway, I'm sleeping with the freakin Raid already. Do not judge me. I'd take the Hot Honduran back to bed if he'd take away this recent carcass.
am I a horrible person
... if I don't exercise AGAIN today? It's been like three days, and my body just TOTALLY doesn't feel like it still. I have myself all amped up, and even have the clothes & shoes on, but my body hurts all over still. And I'm tired - I slept until like 9:30 this morning, which is SUPER late for me. Maybe I'll do a little yoga or something rather than 50 minutes "fat-burning" Pilates. But even, well, ANYTHING seems like TOO MUCH ENERGY. It's a lazy, very rainy Sunday. It just started coming down in buckets which makes me less than eager to drive over to Slidell, which is my only plan for the day.
I took a fake Trader Joe's brand Airborne and feel a little better, but still ... something is definitely off - no mind-body connection here.
Or am I just so lazy. I just want to curl up with a good book and a decaf latte.
What is WITH my body? It's totally not in-tune with all the things my MIND wants to do. What's up with that? Strange.
The Hot Honduran is way into fitness stuff - almost pathological about it. And yeah, he looks way good - hence, his nickname - but I don't want to be so weird about things like that.
So, I'll listen to the aches and pains in my body and be lazy another day. It's the sane thing to do - and how often can I call anything I do "sane"?
I took a fake Trader Joe's brand Airborne and feel a little better, but still ... something is definitely off - no mind-body connection here.
Or am I just so lazy. I just want to curl up with a good book and a decaf latte.
What is WITH my body? It's totally not in-tune with all the things my MIND wants to do. What's up with that? Strange.
The Hot Honduran is way into fitness stuff - almost pathological about it. And yeah, he looks way good - hence, his nickname - but I don't want to be so weird about things like that.
So, I'll listen to the aches and pains in my body and be lazy another day. It's the sane thing to do - and how often can I call anything I do "sane"?
meatloaf and potatoes and berry crisp
After having now my third helping of the meatloaf and potatoes, I'm sort of self-congratulatory. So, don't want to forget to jot down my notes for later - Rebound Boy says it was perfect date food. But he's Mennonite and this is how he was raised, so I'd consider the background. Not what I would prepare for a Frenchman or a vegetarian, for example (though he warned me if I start up with vegetarians they'll all be Metrosexuals and less-than-satisfying ... and it was one of those moments when he wasn't completely full of shit).
"APPARENTLY I'VE BEEN LIVING TOO LONG IN NOLA" MEATLOAF
Saute the trinity (celery, onions, bell pepper - every Creole and Cajun dish starts like this, I'm told). Maybe 1/4 c. of each.
Toss in with the other stuff:
bread crumbs/oats (I put in one bread slice crumbed + 1/4 c. oats - I'd play with this - I think the oats make it less cohesive)
8 oz. can of tomato sauce
1 T. Worcestershire sauce
Tony Cachere's (sort of the NOLA answer to EVERYTHING)
pepper
thyme
oregano
garlic powder
1 egg
just over a pound of ground beef (if cooking for myself, I'd use turkey - but boys like beef, I'm told - and the protein is good for me)
(feel like I'm forgetting things ... will edit if necessary)
Bake 350 degrees about 65 minutes (in a loafpan)
"LOOKING INSIDE THE YAMASAKI SAUSAGE FACTORY" POTATOES
Boil some taters with whole cloves of garlic. 5 yellow (2 #) for two people is TOO MANY. I put in maybe 10 cloves of garlic and the taste was FANTASTIC. He said he couldn't taste it much, but that's because he's apparently taste-deprived - the garlic was SO STRONG but mellow simultaneously.
Mash. Add some butter, cream cheese (I'd probably replace this with sour cream ... didn't want to put in both, and I'm partial to sour cream), and milk to get it to right consistency.
Pepper
COMFORT FOOD BERRY CRISP
Fill an 8x8 pan with berries - I had a mix of raspberries, blackberries, and blueberries that I bought at Costco in Cali and that worked well - grew up using wild blueberries and that was freakin awesome.
Mix together:
1 c. oats
1/2 c. flour
1/2 c. butter (ouch - that's a ton of saturated fat! With meatloaf no less! My arteries are clogged! - I could have used Earth Balance and it'd be fine for me)
1/2 c. brown sugar
Put on top of the berries and kind of push it in at spots so there's a variety of texture in each bite - some more berry, some more crisp. And it's not really crisp - but I can never think of the best word. Not a crumble or a crunch or a cobbler. But way yummy. And best with ice cream. He missed the cue with the whipped cream can - sometimes I need to be explicit. But I think any accessories in my bed last night would have flipped me out even more, so it was good that he didn't bring it along. And, it's low calorie so I can continue to enjoy it alone. With fruit!
"APPARENTLY I'VE BEEN LIVING TOO LONG IN NOLA" MEATLOAF
Saute the trinity (celery, onions, bell pepper - every Creole and Cajun dish starts like this, I'm told). Maybe 1/4 c. of each.
Toss in with the other stuff:
bread crumbs/oats (I put in one bread slice crumbed + 1/4 c. oats - I'd play with this - I think the oats make it less cohesive)
8 oz. can of tomato sauce
1 T. Worcestershire sauce
Tony Cachere's (sort of the NOLA answer to EVERYTHING)
pepper
thyme
oregano
garlic powder
1 egg
just over a pound of ground beef (if cooking for myself, I'd use turkey - but boys like beef, I'm told - and the protein is good for me)
(feel like I'm forgetting things ... will edit if necessary)
Bake 350 degrees about 65 minutes (in a loafpan)
"LOOKING INSIDE THE YAMASAKI SAUSAGE FACTORY" POTATOES
Boil some taters with whole cloves of garlic. 5 yellow (2 #) for two people is TOO MANY. I put in maybe 10 cloves of garlic and the taste was FANTASTIC. He said he couldn't taste it much, but that's because he's apparently taste-deprived - the garlic was SO STRONG but mellow simultaneously.
Mash. Add some butter, cream cheese (I'd probably replace this with sour cream ... didn't want to put in both, and I'm partial to sour cream), and milk to get it to right consistency.
Pepper
COMFORT FOOD BERRY CRISP
Fill an 8x8 pan with berries - I had a mix of raspberries, blackberries, and blueberries that I bought at Costco in Cali and that worked well - grew up using wild blueberries and that was freakin awesome.
Mix together:
1 c. oats
1/2 c. flour
1/2 c. butter (ouch - that's a ton of saturated fat! With meatloaf no less! My arteries are clogged! - I could have used Earth Balance and it'd be fine for me)
1/2 c. brown sugar
Put on top of the berries and kind of push it in at spots so there's a variety of texture in each bite - some more berry, some more crisp. And it's not really crisp - but I can never think of the best word. Not a crumble or a crunch or a cobbler. But way yummy. And best with ice cream. He missed the cue with the whipped cream can - sometimes I need to be explicit. But I think any accessories in my bed last night would have flipped me out even more, so it was good that he didn't bring it along. And, it's low calorie so I can continue to enjoy it alone. With fruit!
he's fine
Dayton just emailed. For anybody keeping track, it's been since beginning of May since I heard from him.
His timing is a little strange, eh? He says he just got back from his trip out to the boonies. But did he catch the vibe I was naked and fooling around with another guy?
Oh, and he's so very mad at me. Funny how he can turn that shit around like that. Good for me to see it and remind myself that he can be a self-centered dick and that's why I broke up with him.
I just wish that everything were different - I wish we were in the same place and could work stuff out. Or not. But at least we could talk face-to-face and spend lots of time together and all that. Instead we had to base an entire relationship upon one month and a few weekends, which is far too much strain. I still believe in most of heart that he's THE ONE for me (just as Dora must have a place in Avery's heart), but I'm not a saint. I need an active relationship, not memories and a maybe for the future. I never believed before in that whole soulmate nonsense ... soulmate friends, absolutely, but there's more than one ... but soulmate as in one person for me - never bought it. But then I fell in love with Dayton and the axis of my world shifted. I just really, really hope that I'm wrong about that - that I will someday (and the sooner the better!) find love again.
If I begged him now and promised to never complain again, we'd be back together. But what kind of life is that? I can never tell him how I feel? That's definitely a cultural thing, and it's taken me this long in my life to know how I feel, so I'm not going to stop. I'm not a harpie and I don't complain incessantly - but he hears it that way. A friend of mine, her husband recently told her she's not a good wife because when he came home after being gone a month, she asked him to sit with her because she missed him so much (I'm sure there's more that I don't remember, but that's the gist). Well, that's the gist for women - we hear ourselves saying, "I need you and want you," and men hear us saying something entirely different - about demanding and complaining. Not all women and not all men, of course. But enough for me to see a trend. (Oh goodness - now this blog entry is taking a turn to sound like last night's conversation. The Hot Honduran likes to make sweeping comments about "men" and "women" and I always feel compelled to point out that I rarely fit under the "women" category - which he says is the difference between speaking generally and specifically. And then he kinda makes up for it by reiterating that I'm a strong and resilient woman. I wish it weren't too weird to talk to him about Dayton - I could use his input because he's the only chauvinist I talk to. But he's way not into hearing about it - he'll talk rhetorically about future men I get involved with, but not past.)
ANYWAY, my point is ... these friends have been married 12 years and have three children together and this is STILL a problem. And he used to totally adore her and waited years to be with her. And STILL - when she expresses her emotional needs, he shuts down and becomes a dick. So, I am delusional to think that D would ever get better about that.
It just really, totally, completely breaks my heart. I feel like half a person without him. After three months considering myself not with him, and dating the hottest guy I find and click with, that sense of loss hasn't changed at all. If he knocked on my door right now I would be the most ecstatically happy person in the world ... but continuing to go through this long-distance crap? I can't do it.
But, I'm glad he's fine.
And I'm thinking it's time to start a new blog - I don't like this title. Any suggestions for a new title?
How about "World of Rebounding"? No ... because that's not the focus of my life really. Sometimes all I talk about, but it's not what keeps me going. NOLA Transplant? NOLA Pilgrim? Livinola? (Livin in NOLA ... hm, if I have to explain, then it's probably not good.) Decorative Wooden Brackets ... maybe that. That's what makes me so freakin happy in this town. Seriously - I look out my window and see them, and all is right with the world.
His timing is a little strange, eh? He says he just got back from his trip out to the boonies. But did he catch the vibe I was naked and fooling around with another guy?
Oh, and he's so very mad at me. Funny how he can turn that shit around like that. Good for me to see it and remind myself that he can be a self-centered dick and that's why I broke up with him.
I just wish that everything were different - I wish we were in the same place and could work stuff out. Or not. But at least we could talk face-to-face and spend lots of time together and all that. Instead we had to base an entire relationship upon one month and a few weekends, which is far too much strain. I still believe in most of heart that he's THE ONE for me (just as Dora must have a place in Avery's heart), but I'm not a saint. I need an active relationship, not memories and a maybe for the future. I never believed before in that whole soulmate nonsense ... soulmate friends, absolutely, but there's more than one ... but soulmate as in one person for me - never bought it. But then I fell in love with Dayton and the axis of my world shifted. I just really, really hope that I'm wrong about that - that I will someday (and the sooner the better!) find love again.
If I begged him now and promised to never complain again, we'd be back together. But what kind of life is that? I can never tell him how I feel? That's definitely a cultural thing, and it's taken me this long in my life to know how I feel, so I'm not going to stop. I'm not a harpie and I don't complain incessantly - but he hears it that way. A friend of mine, her husband recently told her she's not a good wife because when he came home after being gone a month, she asked him to sit with her because she missed him so much (I'm sure there's more that I don't remember, but that's the gist). Well, that's the gist for women - we hear ourselves saying, "I need you and want you," and men hear us saying something entirely different - about demanding and complaining. Not all women and not all men, of course. But enough for me to see a trend. (Oh goodness - now this blog entry is taking a turn to sound like last night's conversation. The Hot Honduran likes to make sweeping comments about "men" and "women" and I always feel compelled to point out that I rarely fit under the "women" category - which he says is the difference between speaking generally and specifically. And then he kinda makes up for it by reiterating that I'm a strong and resilient woman. I wish it weren't too weird to talk to him about Dayton - I could use his input because he's the only chauvinist I talk to. But he's way not into hearing about it - he'll talk rhetorically about future men I get involved with, but not past.)
ANYWAY, my point is ... these friends have been married 12 years and have three children together and this is STILL a problem. And he used to totally adore her and waited years to be with her. And STILL - when she expresses her emotional needs, he shuts down and becomes a dick. So, I am delusional to think that D would ever get better about that.
It just really, totally, completely breaks my heart. I feel like half a person without him. After three months considering myself not with him, and dating the hottest guy I find and click with, that sense of loss hasn't changed at all. If he knocked on my door right now I would be the most ecstatically happy person in the world ... but continuing to go through this long-distance crap? I can't do it.
But, I'm glad he's fine.
And I'm thinking it's time to start a new blog - I don't like this title. Any suggestions for a new title?
How about "World of Rebounding"? No ... because that's not the focus of my life really. Sometimes all I talk about, but it's not what keeps me going. NOLA Transplant? NOLA Pilgrim? Livinola? (Livin in NOLA ... hm, if I have to explain, then it's probably not good.) Decorative Wooden Brackets ... maybe that. That's what makes me so freakin happy in this town. Seriously - I look out my window and see them, and all is right with the world.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Rebound Boy just left
And let me just say that I have never missed Dayton more than I have over the past four hours.
For so many reasons. So many, many reasons.
It was all fine. But now I'm glad he's gone, and maybe I'll never see him again and that's fine too.
Maybe I'm just not ready for rebounding, and certainly not for any kind of relationship. If all I can think about is my ex? Not even close to ready. And I'm sure he know that, even though I only said something once (he was saying something stupid about his sister saying that if a woman asks a man if the food was good and he says yes then they're ready to get married - and I completely froze when he said that "m" word and I was like, dude, I just broke up with the love of my life that I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with - we don't say that stupid "m" word). (He was trying to say something nice about my cooking but it all came out wrong to me - he was trying to be a superb rebound boy and all that, but it just made me even more uptight.)
So either I'm not ready now, or I'll never be ready. Sigh. Here's the Hot Honduran, whom I've been lusting after for almost three months, and I have his complete and undivided attention, and all I can think about is how he's not as good in all ways? Oy.
So, there's my update. And Ahmed, if you're reading, can I bring you the leftover meatloaf tomorrow?
For so many reasons. So many, many reasons.
It was all fine. But now I'm glad he's gone, and maybe I'll never see him again and that's fine too.
Maybe I'm just not ready for rebounding, and certainly not for any kind of relationship. If all I can think about is my ex? Not even close to ready. And I'm sure he know that, even though I only said something once (he was saying something stupid about his sister saying that if a woman asks a man if the food was good and he says yes then they're ready to get married - and I completely froze when he said that "m" word and I was like, dude, I just broke up with the love of my life that I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with - we don't say that stupid "m" word). (He was trying to say something nice about my cooking but it all came out wrong to me - he was trying to be a superb rebound boy and all that, but it just made me even more uptight.)
So either I'm not ready now, or I'll never be ready. Sigh. Here's the Hot Honduran, whom I've been lusting after for almost three months, and I have his complete and undivided attention, and all I can think about is how he's not as good in all ways? Oy.
So, there's my update. And Ahmed, if you're reading, can I bring you the leftover meatloaf tomorrow?
the things people say
Funniest thing said today, by Tiffany, when I told her I was a little worried that if my "Cancun" travel partner and I were both drinking heavily and sleeping in the same room, that what might seem like a great idea while in a drunken stupor would seem horrible the next day. She advised that I take cleaning supplies with me and attack the hotel bathrooms rather than doing anything really stupid.
Ah, cleaning supplies for a sexually frustrated Virgo? She's genius.
Oddest thing? The Hot Honduran called asking if he can come early. An hour early. That doesn't fit into the plan, and why would he do that? Is he doing what I do when visiting, blocking out two hour blocks? He is leaving the country in a couple days so could be quite busy - is he planning to spend 6:30-8:30 with me and then 8:30-10:30 with somebody else, and then the night with somebody else? That sounds like me, and something I would deserve. He called to be chatty and I was so not in the mood. Telling me about his day, and I waited for a break before I was like, "Dude! I am totally freaked out about a cockroach IN MY BED! Couldn't you at least acknowledge that?" "Well, there's nothing to be freaked out about-" "IN MY BED! IN MY FUCKING BED! Can't you just acknowledge that I am freaked out?" "Well-" "Never mind. We'll talk later. I have to go grab Carolyn to get a potato masher." So, he has warning how I am today.
Stupidest thing? No, it's not that I burn every single damn thing that I cook, including the almonds (that Ahmed gave me a few days ago) I was just attempting to brown to put in with the beans. (I'm using REAL BUTTER for everything. It's because I talked to Amy, and her butter usage is legendary and contagious.) No, it was when I was at the grocery store and made it about two aisles with somebody else's cart. "Excuse me, excuse me," I heard behind me. "Me or them?" We got it all straightened out, and then she had to chase me down to give me back the potatoes I'd put in her cart. Oy vey. She was unamused.
Seriously, this cutting calorie thing doesn't seem to be working for me. It just makes me, er, crazier than normal. I'm a total menace on the roads and in the grocery aisles, apparently. Maybe it's not that, but it does feel like a lack of protein - so I'll need to start amping up the protein consumption.
OK, back to slave over a hot stove rather than be leisurely because HIS schedule changed. Of course this also means that he'll probably be coming straight from tango, so looking sharp and sexually charged. I better go wash that burned pan and start again.
Ah, cleaning supplies for a sexually frustrated Virgo? She's genius.
Oddest thing? The Hot Honduran called asking if he can come early. An hour early. That doesn't fit into the plan, and why would he do that? Is he doing what I do when visiting, blocking out two hour blocks? He is leaving the country in a couple days so could be quite busy - is he planning to spend 6:30-8:30 with me and then 8:30-10:30 with somebody else, and then the night with somebody else? That sounds like me, and something I would deserve. He called to be chatty and I was so not in the mood. Telling me about his day, and I waited for a break before I was like, "Dude! I am totally freaked out about a cockroach IN MY BED! Couldn't you at least acknowledge that?" "Well, there's nothing to be freaked out about-" "IN MY BED! IN MY FUCKING BED! Can't you just acknowledge that I am freaked out?" "Well-" "Never mind. We'll talk later. I have to go grab Carolyn to get a potato masher." So, he has warning how I am today.
Stupidest thing? No, it's not that I burn every single damn thing that I cook, including the almonds (that Ahmed gave me a few days ago) I was just attempting to brown to put in with the beans. (I'm using REAL BUTTER for everything. It's because I talked to Amy, and her butter usage is legendary and contagious.) No, it was when I was at the grocery store and made it about two aisles with somebody else's cart. "Excuse me, excuse me," I heard behind me. "Me or them?" We got it all straightened out, and then she had to chase me down to give me back the potatoes I'd put in her cart. Oy vey. She was unamused.
Seriously, this cutting calorie thing doesn't seem to be working for me. It just makes me, er, crazier than normal. I'm a total menace on the roads and in the grocery aisles, apparently. Maybe it's not that, but it does feel like a lack of protein - so I'll need to start amping up the protein consumption.
OK, back to slave over a hot stove rather than be leisurely because HIS schedule changed. Of course this also means that he'll probably be coming straight from tango, so looking sharp and sexually charged. I better go wash that burned pan and start again.
TAMI DO NOT READ
I'm not joking, Tami. Stop reading! You will never forgive me or even speak to me again if you read this, I fear.
****
I had a little trauma last night.
I woke up last night because something was brushing against me. I brushed it off, mostly still asleep, and something about the way it moved woke me fully up.
There was a cockroach in my bed and it was wanting to crawl all over me.
I've never moved out of my - or any - bed so fast. I stared at it, and it stared back. It had no fear, and it seemed to think it was tucking itself in for the night.
I looked around, but I have no shoes up there, and I'd already used the book Bayou Farewell to kill the wasp in my bed weeks ago and it was not successful. I needed something substantial. (Good book, by the way - just not solid enough for vermin elimination. In fact, I recommend that anybody reading this right now go read the linked review of Bayou Farewell instead of continuing with this stupid post.)
I went downstairs, shaking, and pulled out the Raid I'd just put away in my cleaning frenzy (thinking my life was going to be cockroach free, I'd put away all the weapons of roach destruction).
It was still on my bed, so I had to spray Raid all over the bed and pillows. Then it decided to scuttle away so I sprayed the hell out of its writhing poisoned body on the floor.
And then I stripped my bed, scrubbed myself clean, grabbed some clean sheets, and made up a bed on the couch downstairs. Where I woke up every little while to do a quick perimeter scan to feel safe.
Now, I KNOW that I'm being a drama queen here, but just let me be a drama queen. This is really, really disgusting. If it happened to me in Africa or South America, I wouldn't really sweat it - it would be a cultural experience and I'd take my response cue from locals. But this is my home, and the bed I planned on sleeping in for years to come. I'm not on a vacation in a tropical destination with circumstances out of my control. And the locals here, such as Tami, flip with far more vigor than I do about roaches. I think that I handled the reality of sanitizing all surfaces on a regular basis quite well, and of living with all my food in serious containers, and cleaning up every single thing immediately - I think I've handled this infestation fine. But in my bed? I draw the fucking line. Maybe I'll put up a bed net. It's just a pain in the ass and overkill - I have no mosquitoes inside.
So, when I talk about the wasp and the roach in my bed, I'm not talking about really bad dates that I brought home. I'm talking literally about a wasp and a roach. And I'm very unhappy about this.
So I texted the Hot Honduran. I wasn't going to blog about this because I actually WANT my friends to visit me and not be scared off by the vermin. But I have to talk about it. The Hot Honduran never got back to me. So I just texted him again saying, "Hello? I'm traumatized here." Still nothing.
And I'm sure that he thinks I'm being an extremely annoying girl, and if his attitude doesn't change to considerably more sympathetic then I'll be putting his meatloaf in a to-go container and kicking his sorry ass out the door. I'm willing to put up with a lot from him because it's not a relationship, and I think maybe I'll influence him positively as a hang-out buddy (seriously, he makes ME look like the one with the soft heart rather than the hard-ass). But I will NOT hang out with somebody who isn't sympathetic to my trauma, however stupid it may be. Not as a friend, and certainly not as a booty call. I don't even care if it's real sympathy or fake - I just need a show of it. Which he won't do, and now he's being stubborn about it, especially after yesterday when I told him he was being an ass. And I can be just as stubborn, and as badly as I need to get laid, it's not nearly bad enough that I will put up with anything less than perfection in a Rebound Boy. He thinks I want him and that's that - why do men always seem to think that? It's far more complicated than that. So, I'll give him a chance tonight but it looks like he may well blow it. And I'll end up being a crazy spinster - because lack of sex makes me crazy, and I have really unreasonable expectations for men. Which I know is my biggest problem, but seriously - why would I settle? Once I get really fully over Dayton, I'll be ok again with being single forever. Not just ok, but thrilled with it. It was just D that changed me. And yeah, it was a rough night because I knew exactly how D would have responded if he were there and it would have been perfect. And of course it's not fair to compare anyone to the memories of an ex, but when will I stop doing that as my first reaction to anything?
Now I will insert a metaphor I came up with that I've been wanting to use. When I was in high school my dad had a big pickup that I'd drive. It ran ok overall, but had a major problem shifting - frequently the clutch wouldn't work and it would get stuck in gear. (I clearly don't understand the mechanisms here, but I just know that I couldn't shift gears.) Then I'd have to pull it over to the side of the road (there was no road allowing over about 40 mph anyway, so it wasn't a big deal), pop the hood, and manually move the gear out of the notches. Then it would ride along ok for awhile, then get stuck again, and the process would repeat.
This is how I'm doing about Dayton. I'll be riding along doing just fine and then something will happen and suddenly I'm stuck in 2nd Dayton gear and my heart freezes up and whatever I'm doing in that moment becomes completely meaningless and he's all I can think about. And I have to do something to kick out of that gear, until I get stuck in it again. Clearly I need a new pickup.
So anyway, I'm way exhausted and grossed out, and haven't yet "mustered the guts" (HH would tell me to do that - he has before) to go clean up the roach death mess upstairs and start all the numerous loads of laundry I'm going to do to rid all traces of it.
And if the Hot Honduran doesn't end up in my bed tonight, I'm sleeping on the couch again probably. Some mighty powerful force will be required to overcome the bad roach juju up there. It was supposed to be my sanctuary, so I feel a little betrayed by the universe right now.
So, thanks to Jenny who was on-line last night when I was handling my trauma, for showing appropriate sympathy. And I will be happy to take anymore shows of sympathy for this calamitous trauma. Yes people (anybody who has made it this far deserves a medal anyway), just let me be a freakin drama queen today, please.
****
I had a little trauma last night.
I woke up last night because something was brushing against me. I brushed it off, mostly still asleep, and something about the way it moved woke me fully up.
There was a cockroach in my bed and it was wanting to crawl all over me.
I've never moved out of my - or any - bed so fast. I stared at it, and it stared back. It had no fear, and it seemed to think it was tucking itself in for the night.
I looked around, but I have no shoes up there, and I'd already used the book Bayou Farewell to kill the wasp in my bed weeks ago and it was not successful. I needed something substantial. (Good book, by the way - just not solid enough for vermin elimination. In fact, I recommend that anybody reading this right now go read the linked review of Bayou Farewell instead of continuing with this stupid post.)
I went downstairs, shaking, and pulled out the Raid I'd just put away in my cleaning frenzy (thinking my life was going to be cockroach free, I'd put away all the weapons of roach destruction).
It was still on my bed, so I had to spray Raid all over the bed and pillows. Then it decided to scuttle away so I sprayed the hell out of its writhing poisoned body on the floor.
And then I stripped my bed, scrubbed myself clean, grabbed some clean sheets, and made up a bed on the couch downstairs. Where I woke up every little while to do a quick perimeter scan to feel safe.
Now, I KNOW that I'm being a drama queen here, but just let me be a drama queen. This is really, really disgusting. If it happened to me in Africa or South America, I wouldn't really sweat it - it would be a cultural experience and I'd take my response cue from locals. But this is my home, and the bed I planned on sleeping in for years to come. I'm not on a vacation in a tropical destination with circumstances out of my control. And the locals here, such as Tami, flip with far more vigor than I do about roaches. I think that I handled the reality of sanitizing all surfaces on a regular basis quite well, and of living with all my food in serious containers, and cleaning up every single thing immediately - I think I've handled this infestation fine. But in my bed? I draw the fucking line. Maybe I'll put up a bed net. It's just a pain in the ass and overkill - I have no mosquitoes inside.
So, when I talk about the wasp and the roach in my bed, I'm not talking about really bad dates that I brought home. I'm talking literally about a wasp and a roach. And I'm very unhappy about this.
So I texted the Hot Honduran. I wasn't going to blog about this because I actually WANT my friends to visit me and not be scared off by the vermin. But I have to talk about it. The Hot Honduran never got back to me. So I just texted him again saying, "Hello? I'm traumatized here." Still nothing.
And I'm sure that he thinks I'm being an extremely annoying girl, and if his attitude doesn't change to considerably more sympathetic then I'll be putting his meatloaf in a to-go container and kicking his sorry ass out the door. I'm willing to put up with a lot from him because it's not a relationship, and I think maybe I'll influence him positively as a hang-out buddy (seriously, he makes ME look like the one with the soft heart rather than the hard-ass). But I will NOT hang out with somebody who isn't sympathetic to my trauma, however stupid it may be. Not as a friend, and certainly not as a booty call. I don't even care if it's real sympathy or fake - I just need a show of it. Which he won't do, and now he's being stubborn about it, especially after yesterday when I told him he was being an ass. And I can be just as stubborn, and as badly as I need to get laid, it's not nearly bad enough that I will put up with anything less than perfection in a Rebound Boy. He thinks I want him and that's that - why do men always seem to think that? It's far more complicated than that. So, I'll give him a chance tonight but it looks like he may well blow it. And I'll end up being a crazy spinster - because lack of sex makes me crazy, and I have really unreasonable expectations for men. Which I know is my biggest problem, but seriously - why would I settle? Once I get really fully over Dayton, I'll be ok again with being single forever. Not just ok, but thrilled with it. It was just D that changed me. And yeah, it was a rough night because I knew exactly how D would have responded if he were there and it would have been perfect. And of course it's not fair to compare anyone to the memories of an ex, but when will I stop doing that as my first reaction to anything?
Now I will insert a metaphor I came up with that I've been wanting to use. When I was in high school my dad had a big pickup that I'd drive. It ran ok overall, but had a major problem shifting - frequently the clutch wouldn't work and it would get stuck in gear. (I clearly don't understand the mechanisms here, but I just know that I couldn't shift gears.) Then I'd have to pull it over to the side of the road (there was no road allowing over about 40 mph anyway, so it wasn't a big deal), pop the hood, and manually move the gear out of the notches. Then it would ride along ok for awhile, then get stuck again, and the process would repeat.
This is how I'm doing about Dayton. I'll be riding along doing just fine and then something will happen and suddenly I'm stuck in 2nd Dayton gear and my heart freezes up and whatever I'm doing in that moment becomes completely meaningless and he's all I can think about. And I have to do something to kick out of that gear, until I get stuck in it again. Clearly I need a new pickup.
So anyway, I'm way exhausted and grossed out, and haven't yet "mustered the guts" (HH would tell me to do that - he has before) to go clean up the roach death mess upstairs and start all the numerous loads of laundry I'm going to do to rid all traces of it.
And if the Hot Honduran doesn't end up in my bed tonight, I'm sleeping on the couch again probably. Some mighty powerful force will be required to overcome the bad roach juju up there. It was supposed to be my sanctuary, so I feel a little betrayed by the universe right now.
So, thanks to Jenny who was on-line last night when I was handling my trauma, for showing appropriate sympathy. And I will be happy to take anymore shows of sympathy for this calamitous trauma. Yes people (anybody who has made it this far deserves a medal anyway), just let me be a freakin drama queen today, please.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Dora, the Yamasaki Explorer
I just called Amy for her yummy garlic mashed potato recipe (it's like looking in the sausage factory when I ask the Yamasakis for recipes - things taste good because they're LOADED with fat and calories - no wonder I can gain 8 pounds in a weekend there!). She's down visiting Susan for the weekend with the boys. Wish I were there.
Anyway, they promised Avery many years ago that he could get a dog later. It was set that when Ashton became three and potty trained that they could look at dogs. So, when he reminded them of this, Amy set out looking for the dog for them - and found Dora. Isn't she a cutie?
There are still logistics to work out (such as getting Stephen on board), but it looks good that there will be a new puppy in the family.
Wow. Who of my friends ISN'T going through a major life-changing event now? Babies, puppies, marriages - the times, they are a-changing. Can't wait to get back over to Slidell for more baby time!
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