Tuesday, May 29, 2012

I see...Dirt.

If smart phones are good for anything, it's amusing yourself in the bathroom while your mask dries.

I have recently moved in with my boyfriend , who is living, temporarily, in a (barely) converted warehouse, which only goes a part of the way toward explaining why I'm standing naked in what amounts to a gas station bathroom smearing $65 face mask on my skin, but damned if I'm not going to stand here for the recommended five minutes, which is why I'm typing this on my smartphone. I put some on my elbow, too, for good measure. The mask, not the phone, and I didn't put any mask on the phone, although the screen is so broken I'm not sure I could actually worsen the condition and a good mask treatment might even be an improvement. My elbow, which has some kind of recurring bite on it and itches like crazy, is stinging a bit after the mask, which I think is a good sign.

The only reason I can even do this here is because there's finally a mirror in this bathroom, which only happened yesterday. You read that right. No mirror in the bathroom. Before this I did my makeup in the big mirrored doors of the IKEA wardrobe in our bedroom, which means that I often splashed water on my face at night, THEN trekked, raccoon-eyed, two rooms over to the big mirrors, so I could put lotion on the correct smudges and not in my eye. I'd have installed a mirror in the bathroom awhile ago except we can't even seem to keep TOWELS in the bathroom, much less a mirror. (No, really. Three other guys live here too and one of them purloined the mirror and set it up by the only window in the place by a live outlet, because two of the three have beards and they needed to shave in natural light. With electric razors, obviously.)

This is what happens when you move into a barely converted warehouse. My boyfriend refers to it as "the Danger Room", or the DR for short, which is confusing if you have spent any time in the Dominican Republic, which he has and I haven't, so there you go. It's much like living in a medieval castle, or in a third world--I feel like I need a lit candle to walk around the place. (Much better, too, if I had flowing robes a la Maid Marian.) It's confusing and challenging and AWESOME and I LOVE IT. Stay tuned.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Charlotte Gray at Bending Breath

I found the book "Charlotte Gray" in a shared library in a hostel in Tokyo at 3 am because I couldn't sleep, and I read it all in one sitting and brought it home with me on the plane and haven't read it since, but have thought about it many times. It remains a mystery in my head, a mild obsession, a faint itch that I COULD scratch if I wanted to, but choose not to. I like it almost better as a mystery.

Also, "found in a shared library in a hostel in Tokyo at 3 am because I couldn't sleep" is one of those incredibly pretentious things you only get to say a few times, and I am damned well going to take every opportunity to do so. I'd say I'm sorry about this, but I'm not.

Also: I have no idea how I found this blog, but I read her obsessively. I don't think she even knows I exist. Another mystery that I like to leave as a mystery.

“Memory is the only thing that binds you to earlier selves; for the rest, you become an entirely different being every decade or so, sloughing off the old persona, renewing and moving on. You are not who you were, he told her, nor who you will be.”  

-Sebastian Faulks, Charlotte Gray

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Give me a 13 foot pipe and a place to stand, and I shall move...THIS SUITCASE.

Or, Why You Should Never Throw Anything Away.

A nice weekender bag just wasn't going to cut it. I was about to leave on a week long trip, covering business AND a wedding AND some time just bumming around Long Island. I needed a suitcase. A REAL suitcase. I had one of those, but...oh, dear. Hadn't I just moved?

On the plus side, I located it immediately, in the morass of things that is my stuff, piled up to the rafters of the warehouse I've just moved in to with Entrepreneur. On the negative side, it was...at the top of a 15-foot stack of boxes. Mounting the neighboring drafting table brought me within wishing reach, but...my arms weren't quite long enough. Then I braved climbing directly onto the upper strata of boxes, and managed to reach the handle button, which extended said handle, which seemed like victory...until I realized I'd just extended the lever arm in the wrong direction. Now I'd have to apply much MORE force to lift the suitcase above the sides of the box holding it, and I wasn't sure the upper strata were balanced enough to support me, plus me working against my own weight, without toppling over like dominoes and taking me with them. Not the ideal start to a week long trip of any kind.

Fortunately, I had resources; namely, one very smart boyfriend, and also, one 13-foot conduit pipe that I've carried with me from place to place for the last two years for gawd knows what reason except that you just never know when you might desperately need a good 13-foot pipe, and they can be hard to lay your hands on at a moment's notice.*

Entrepreneur's solution: Tell girlfriend to stay where she is. Grab your girlfriend's 13-foot pipe. Utilize already installed girlfriend, precariously but firmly balanced on the closest access point to the suitcase, as the fulcrum.** Have her thread the pipe through the helpfully popped-up handle. Direct her to utilize all of her non-existent upper body strength and push and HOLD the pipe as high as possible above her head, against your force. Stand back and haul that lever DOWN. Et Voila!

Optional finish for extra style points: As you hand your girlfriend the high flying suitcase, remark offhandedly, "When facing a problem, always remember your Archimedes."

*Very smart boyfriends can ALSO be hard to lay your hands on at a moment's notice.

**This stunt was performed by a completely unpaid nonprofessional on a very uncontrolled course. Do not try this at home.

Tuesday, May 08, 2012

Survived Hell!


Getting called a tw@t in front of my mother really put the cap on it, I think. But! It does not matter. I escaped with all my fingers and toes--I don't think I left more than a few brain cells behind--and I get to live with a pretty awesome guy and really, just surviving, and knowing I never have to go back, is a wonderful, blessed, thing.

Also! I got to go to LA and NYC and see some awesome people get married. That was pretty nifty. Shoutout to a navy blue dress I bought at a thrift store that I think was meant to be a nightgown and has now carried me through six weddings, with at least one more to go. Best fourteen bucks I ever spent.