Baby’s First Fender Bender

Still sick of overtime. It’s fucking with my free time, obviously.

It fucked up my plans for Friday night slightly, but it was alright in the end–after work, I picked Terra up and we trucked it an hour to see Rachael in a little community theater show, All Shook Up, which was a very cute and very funny retelling of Shakespeare’s As You Like It in the form of an Elvis Presley musical with some Footloose undertones. Rachael was great in it, and Terra and I found ourselves drawn to a socially awkward, nerdery character, played by Rachael’s boyfriend, who we kept privately calling a baby. Terra says, “We can’t call him that to his face,” then blurts out, “Baby!” the second she sees him. He does look incredibly young, though. He’s 20. And they’re a cute couple, and it was nice to chat briefly. Chelsea was there, too, so it was cool to talk to her for a little bit.

Terra and I hit Taco Bell on the way home since working late meant all I had for dinner was a peanut-butter sandwich, cookie, crackers, Twizzlers, and some green tea. And then she found penicillin in our bag, which we jokingly said was disappointing that it wasn’t say, ecstasy. Especially for five bucks. And then were were concerned that some poor soul was gonna be short a round of antibiotics.

I took some time at Terra’s to apply for a tiny paid writing gig–similar to what I do on occasion for Examiner, except better money.

One of the many perks of Paul moving out is that he now lives closer to Terra than I do. Now, going to this show with Terra was a logistical pain–due to medical issues, she’s not allowed to drive at the moment. And with the location of the theater, going with her basically meant driving about an hour to get her, then another hour to the theater. That said, I don’t really mind doing it, especially if that’s her only chance of going. But one major convenience now is that rather than the whole hour back to my place (although Terra would’ve definitely let me crash), I made it to Paul’s place instead in about 40-ish minutes.

His gecko, Eddy, has moved in now, and while I won’t hold her, I’m obsessed with peeking in her tank to see what she’s doing, partly because she’s usually hiding in her little rock-cave sanctuary and I want to see her out doing stuff. And she normally wasn’t.

Paul’s birthday was Sunday, so I had his gifts in tow–a couple Lawrence Block books, Cowboy Bebop the movie on DVD, cologne (mostly for me), a tee shirt and nice black jeans, chess-piece salt and pepper shakers, and some Magic the Gathering cards. And an adorable dinosaur card. He enjoyed them all and declared I did a good job.

On Saturday, we went out book shopping so he could spend the Barnes and Noble gift card a got him a birthday or two ago that he lost in his bedroom until he found it while packing to move, and then we had dinner for his birthday at El Patron, which was delicious.

I’d say things are great now that he’s moved out, but I fear I’ll jinx it.

Sunday morning, we got up and he headed to his parents’ while my car got hit at a gas station.

I was mid-turn when I felt and heard something hit, and when I looked behind me, there was another car backed into my car.

Now, the other driver was nice about it, but he did make a comment that I did it see him, which has me second-guessing who’s at fault in this whole thing, but after second-guessing my second-guessing, I’m pretty confident he is. I mean, I drive a Corolla. I was turning away from him. There’s no way the back end of my car somehow swung around and smacked into his–he had to have not seen me and backed into me. I’m kind of wondering if he thinks I sort of sped up out of nowhere, wasn’t paying attention, and he suddenly hit me, but given that I was going at a reasonable speed trying to leave and I was partway turned, this isn’t the case.

So now I’ve got a real nice dent in my car, along with a pretty scrape since I was moving at the time. Now we wait to see what his insurance company says.

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Booking Through Thursday: Letters

Different kind of reading … what do you think about letters? Do you ever send them anymore? Receive them? Or do you just do email and texts instead? Do you miss the days when people used to write letters?

Rare as they are, I do think they’re really nice. In some ways, they’re actually a pretty impersonal form of communication, but because they take more time and effort, they’re a little more meaningful. My friends–Sarah especially–were good at sending the occasional letter to keep in touch, especially as college and the working world have pulled us separate ways, and I always enjoy receiving them. It’s nice to get mail that’s not bills. I also always write a letter in response to one I receive, and one of my New Year’s resolutions was to start sending snail mail to my friends–not necessarily full letters, but cards for special occasions. I do prefer email and text and even hanging out in person, but letters aren’t a bad way to go at all.

I’m also a huge fan of therapeutic letter-writing. Sometimes, certain issues–or people–are difficult to confront in person and rude to address via text or email or IM, and a letter is a nice way to address something on your terms. It’s calm, it’s organized, and you get your chance to say what you need to say, and sometimes the process of just writing it is so effective, you’ve gotten everything out of your system and don’t need to send it. I’ve definitely written semi-confrontational letters I never sent, I know people who have done the same, and Terra and I even suggested Paul do it when issues with his mother were peaking and he was having a hard time addressing them with her.

Friday Five: Zero

1. What is something you have run out of? Tampons, I think, but if not, very close to it. Milk. Pasta.

2. What is something you don’t know anything about? Plenty! In particular, my brain can’t retain most things Paul tells me about his job or things my mom explains to me about accounting and taxes.

3. What is something that needs emptying? My bathroom garbage can, my head and heart.

4. There are a lot of stylistic or slangy ways to say “zero.” Which are your favorite? Zilch is a pretty good one. “Z” is a fun letter.

5. When did you last receive something free when you were expecting to pay for it? Got a free medium drink last night at Taco Bell instead of a small because they were all out of small cups. It was for the best, too, because Terra and I both I think underestimated our thirstiness and we annihilated that cherry Pepsi pretty quick.

I’m pretty over mandatory overtime. Granted, a nine-hour workday isn’t terrible, but I’d like to be back on my normal schedule for longer than a week or so. That said, the beefy paychecks will be nice.

This weekend was nice, too. Stephanie had a jewelry party–and the concept of going to someone’s house to buy things is foreign to Paul, naturally–and Paul’s new place is like 15-20 minutes from hers, which is pretty nice and convenient. So I figured I’d head straight to the area after work and go to the mall until Paul got out of work. The goal was to buy birthday presents for him, Meri, and Terra, which was a complete failure. At least I bought a ton of CDs and some cute shorts for myself, but that combined with the money I ultimately spent at the jewelry party made me feel guilty. I’m in a weird financial state of being happy with my savings account yet wishing it was bigger, so I can technically afford to splurge a little and it’s not a big deal, I just feel like I shouldn’t be. Yet like I said, mandatory overtime–they’re forcing me to make more money.

The  jewelry party was nice, though. I got some nice stuff for myself and my mom–and potential birthday presents were once again a huge fail–and even though I only knew Stephanie, Garrett, and her mom, I had a good time and her other friends there were all really nice and they were fun to hang out with. And I ended up staying hacking with Steph and Garrett pretty late before I made my way back to Paul’s.

Which, by the way, is amazing. He’s moved past the stress and into loving having his own space and his own stuff. The only tiny hiccups are things like his mom calling a lot when he was sick last week and him not really wanting to go visit home, but he did go back to get his gecko and used her as an excuse to not get stuck at the house too long. Pretty sly. Poor gecko is stressed, too, though, plus she’s due to shed soon, which apparently isn’t the best of circumstances, either. She’s been hiding in her little rock. And as much as I typically don’t like reptiles, I have to admit she’s pretty cute and it’ll be neat to see her next time I’m over. Plus she was always in her tank in his bedroom, which I think I went in maybe five times total when he lived at home.

I did successful birthday shopping Saturday, and Paul and I had a little  lunch at Primanti’s. And then we lounged the rest of the day–we finally finished watching Cowboy Bebop, which we started when he was in college, and I cried at the end. I ended up liking it a lot more than I expected. I certainly didn’t expect to cry over that ending, although I was warned it was sad.

Sunday was the family’s annual zoo trip, which Paul passed on, probably partly because he was tired and hadn’t gotten the gecko yet and was debating going. So I got up, got ready, and got out and to the zoo, which was probably one of the most fun zoo trips we’ve had in recent years–a lot of the animals were out and active, including the elephants being hilarious in their little pool.

My mom makes fun of Brandon and I for being in our 20s and insisting on going to the zoo every summer–me especially because I get a souvenir cup every year, and I almost wanted to go for my 25th birthday. But I did succeed in getting more birthday presents! I got a little penguin wallet for Terra.

After that, it was my usual weekly grocery trip, and I’m thrilled that it’s finally time for that to include local produce.

Long live summer.

Friday Five: All’s Fair

1. How do you feel about carnival rides? When my mom was in high school, she went to a little pop-up carnival I think at the mall and saw a bunch of boxes full of gears and parts that seemingly belonged to the rides. This concerned her and she was afraid the temporary nature made them unsafe, and we were never allowed to ride them. Now, I think the parts in those boxes could’ve been spares or something, but a childhood of being told rides were unsafe and you couldn’t go on them rubs off on you, so I share her paranoia and won’t go near them. Also doesn’t help that I have an irrational fear of permanent, relatively safe roller coasters–I’ll go on them and love them, but I’m always afraid of some catastrophe like flying out of a harness or the coaster derailing or collapsing or even just breaking down while I’m on it. And actually, these things might all be related…

2. How do you feel about carnival games? It’s s similar thing–we were at least allowed to play some, but we were always told they were rigged and we most likely wouldn’t win. Even though I’ve seen things on how to win, I don’t have much interest in most of them now anyway. Except for the dumb ones, like Duck Pond. And the county fair has a ring toss where you can win knives and it’s the most questionable redneck game ever.

3. What’s your favorite carnival food? Cotton candy, snow cones, lemonade, and anything fried. I’m not sure if this is a local thing or what, but fairs here also feature haluski, and it’s even better at the county fair when it’s made by the local churches. Local churches always have skilled little old ladies making prime haluski.

4. Which animals do you look forward to seeing at the fair? Since I’m a vegetarian, I’m iffy on animals at fairs and carnivals, at least in things like petting zoos because I’m never sure they’re being treated humanely. That said, I love goats in petting zoos.

5. How much does it cost to ride the bus in your city? I had to look it up, but it depends on where you’re going–$1.50 within Washington, $2.50 to take it out to Canonsburg/Southpointe, which is where I work, or $5 to take it into Pittsburgh.

Booking Through Thursday: Summertime

Do your reading habits change in the summer?

Not really. My reading habits mostly revolve around my free time, and with a full-time job that occasionally requires overtime plus other career-related pursuits like IYS, I often go weeks without touching a book–which is super sad, but not a whole hell of a lot about summer can change that. With the exception of vacations, where I take a book I’ve already started plus one or two extras. Don’t ask me about me beach/pool reading, though, because I don’t pick light reading. I once read a memoir about schizophrenia at the beach. I read The Virgin Suicides in Mexico.

Now, in high school and college? Totally different. I read a lot more, but I also had the time. I was known for disappearing into a bubble bath with a book for hours, and given that a lot of Harry Potter books came out in the summer, I spent a lot of late nights and early mornings holed up reading. In fact, one of the best summaries of how Deathly Hallows went is a picture of the pile of tissues on my bed that I burned through.

Is there a job I can get where the job is basically just summer reading?

 

I feel like I played nurse for a lot of the weekend.

Paul started feeling sick Friday, so he scrapped his usual plan of coming over here and decided to wait it out. The good thing about that is, as I’ve said a thousand times before, my Friday nights in alone are super productive because I gradually catch up on things during the week and get everything else nailed Friday night.

Saturday was pretty good, too, and Paul felt well enough to come over in the afternoon. He still wasn’t great, but we walked into town for the Whiskey Rebellion Festival, which was basically just a mini fair where I could eat haluski and fried food for dinner. In other words, it was great.

My mom always jokes that men are the worst when they’re sick because they’re whiny and act like they’re dying over the littlest thing. I do think there’s something to be said for feeling like hell for one week out of every single month for decades, and while Paul handles illness better than, say, my dad, it wasn’t a fun time. He woke up late Saturday night with bad ear pain and clogging–the same symptoms that contributed to a cold I had the summer we started dating and left me out of commission for a good three weeks. The good news is I know how to handle a clogged ear. The bad news is Paul’s body rejects all of my known methods and nothing much worked, except for drugs.

The catch is that we think said drugs contributed to the numerous nosebleeds he ended up having Sunday night and into Monday after he decided he didn’t feel well enough to go home or go to work. I have a theory that a contributing factory was that because he’s much more affectionate than I am, he enjoyed seeing a more nurturing side of me. And by “seeing” I mean “being on the receiving end.” Except I got a little more grumpy when he kept me up on a work night and was trying counterproductive remedies for a dry mouth. Like drinking things that aren’t water.

I have a feeling this illness was stress-related due to the move, although he seems okay now. And we did get to have dinner at Mr. Gyro’s in town yesterday, which was nice since we almost never see each other during the week if it’s not a holiday.

He’s now back at his apartment, where he’s celebrating his newfound freedom by eating whatever he wants, lounging around naked, and watching basically anything that would offend either a parent or his 12-year-old brother.