The Best Kind of Morning

I woke up at 5:30 to ensure I got to 7 am spin on time, but because I have an academic advising appointment at 10 this morning, I came back to my apartment afterward to shower and follow up on all the quotes moving companies have sent to me.

I've also gotten a nibble on my craigslist posting. I've decided that after 4 years of the same couch and love seat, it's time to change things up. I'm selling those pieces and am going to put the yield toward a new couch (or set). I'm keeping the overstuffed chair that matches the couches, though. I'm thinking of putting that in my new bedroom, or if I only buy a couch (but not a couch and a loveseat), I'll put in the livingroom. I'm sure that whatever hue I choose will be complement the chair nicely. I have a decided colour palette. I'm sure the new furniture won't violate it too much.

Anyway, the best kind of morning is some combination of productive and leisurely. Oh, and on my terms.

Updates

C found a job--starts Tuesday. Her last day at her current place of employment is Monday. Also, on Saturday we scored an apartment. We move in June! Thank you, God :)

Nancy Drew's Guide to Life

A sincere and straightforward demeanor will get most anyone to open up and volunteer information. it doesn't hurt to be an attractive young woman, either.

--from The Clue in the Old Album

The Process of Elimination

Sometimes the perfect solution, the perfect prospect asserts itself right away. More often, though, it makes itself known after you exhaust a few dead ends and go on a few wild goose chases.

The second interview my sister went on last week yielded only clarity. Not the right opportunity. Another meeting today ended similarly. On the heels of these disappointments, new leads spring up. Case in point--she got a call today for something on Wednesday. It substantiates the fact that one must hustle even for the serendipitous event.

One of the apartment leads (the only real one I had to date) fell through. It came down to a technicality. I wasn't disappointed, though, because I'd started to feel just a day or so ago that this place was absolutely not going to be big enough no matter how I sliced it. Sarah commented based on the floor plan she saw weeks ago that it wouldn't work, but other features and ammenities made it hard to discount.

There's another long shot looming, but really what it amounts to is this: I have to keep searching.

Last Friday night, E spirited me to some far flung mall because I wanted to check out the chain that carries Sarah Jessica Parker's label, Bitten. SJP's philosophy, as I understand it, is that fashion should be accessible to women of a variety of sizes and shapes at affordable prices. For that reason, no single item is more than 20.00.

I have never seen such poor quality in all of my life. No wonder it's affordable. It's complete shite. My heart bleeds for the poor people who likely toiled to produce these articles. I don't recall ever feeling like I was looking at a blatant insult to clothing--not even when I've seen those tent-sized tweety bird & sylvester t-shirts some manufacturer seems to think that plus-sized women want to wear, or worse, that that's all they deserve.

I know I should should have been skeptical. The old adage about something for nothing and not being able to get it and all that... but because SJP's name is attached to it, I thought her label would be an exception to the conventional wisdom. Honestly, she should just insist on better quality and charge accordingly. It's still honourable that a line would cater to such a range in sizes, even if the clothes aren't cheap.

To be clear, Bitten is not sizist. The size 2 clothes are crap. The size 12s are crap. I mean like "fall apart if you wash it in the machine, crap." I ended up buying two pair of underwear--the only items I could sanction.

So now I know. Another possibility eliminated. On to the next!

Sprung a Leak

the one overt blight on my by most other accounts lovely apartment is sustained water damage in the dining room. it made itself known (peeling paint revealed more of a structural, systemic problem than a cosmetic one) a few months after i moved in. the next 6 months were spent waiting for the property manager to do something about it. she was a procrastinator, to put it nicely. before my ceiling got fixed a new property manager took the first one's place and had to haggle with the management company, over a period of about two months, to get them to fix it. that is, paint it.

i believe the paint job lasted a month before the familiar cracks and creases began to show and the hunks of paint began to fall.

there is almost no chance of it getting fixed again any time soon.

the other night i heard what sounded like skittering in the kitchen. i immediately tensed my shoulders and braced myself to have to deal with some sort of rodent (i can say that i have never once had any mice in this place and i couldn't be more grateful).

Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
Drop.

Water coming in droplets from a crease in the kitchen ceiling.

This morning, at the unfortunate hour of wakefulness (10 before 6), I felt my threadbare sock come into contact with moisture on the floor. Oh, right. The occasional, small evidence of a leak in the bathroom that i also deal with periodically.

The idiots on the 7th floor are notorious for turning on water and walking away from it. But this building is actually splitting apart due to the tightfists of the management company (located more than an hour away). I can't believe how shortsighted the owners are--rehabbing this building would bring a mint! They could charge double or triple for my unit alone.

But that isn't the point of this post.

I'm thinking of these leaks as a providential nod. It's really time to go. I know this. I've known this. I just have these moments of nostalgia or a lazy drive to stay put. Then, without fail.

Another crack. Another drop of water.

I just hope the building holds up long enough for me to get out.

Industry

I'm proud of myself. Though I've been a real slacker assed lazybones of late, I took the time to return my library books after work tonight. I even did some stop-gap marketing (just need to be tided over till pay day) on my way home. The fact that the coming week is going to be busy forced my hand. C returns to town on Monday (she was here this past week for a day and a half) for three more interviews, I have a post-project happy hour with some coworkers on Tuesday night, and Thursday I shop for an outfit or two for a business trip the following week. I'm off on Friday, but it's going to be a day of errands related to school and to the aforementioned trip.

On other fronts, I've been assigned a new project at work. I've had the luxury of trying to wrap my mind around what it will mean for most of this week.

Tonight, I did some streamlining (removed programs I never use from my computer) and faced the music (got a free credit report online--it was as abysmal as I suspected, though probably better than it was before I got serious about fixing my financial problems).

Now I need to go to bed. Sculpt is tomorrow!

Of Celebratory Meals and Tremendously Good Friends

I have the best friends in the world. I firmly believe that. I'm at the point in my life where my inner circle of confidantes is completely devoid of toxicity, smallness of spirit, backhanded, ironic "support," or any of that other junk. All of my girlfriends are the kind of people I've always wanted to know and be friends with.

Tonight E and I enjoyed a celebratory dinner at the City Cafe at her initiative, because "you deserve to be celebrated, honey..." As is pretty typical for us we caught up over fried calamari (to start) and covered everything from her family to the Spitzer Scandal, barely stopping to breathe.

I love breaking bread with the girls, no matter the reason, but it does feel wonderful when someone you care about wants to acknowledge the good things in your life by way of sharing delicious food. E, being self-possessed, on the move, career-wise, and knowing her own mind about some pretty important issues, was vibrant. That was so good to experience.

This all makes me reflect on Sarah, Catchka, Deb, V, R, and B--to name a few more--all of whom consistently demonstrate generous reactions to my good fortune and hearty support when I need it. I don't take it lightly. I'm so grateful for all of you...

Last night I had the good fortune to attend a panel discussion at the university. I guess it made the fact that I'll be going there more real (and broke up the usual monotony of a Monday night), gave me a sense of the "vibe," etc. It may be preliminary to say this, but I conjecture that I'll feel more connected to this campus and this program than I did to JHU. It's got more of a homegrown, grassroots feeling about it. At the same time, I think it will more closely fulfill my expectations of a graduate program,on the whole. Hopkins took up my time and I certainly, absolutely benefitted from invigorating literary discourse as part of that study, but I think this is going to get under my skin in a different way.

Before I figure all of that out, though, my sister and I need to find a place to live...

Brunch!

Lining Up Ducks

I had Jury Duty today and owing to a number that was fairly high in the range of jurors who reported, I got no trial action. Fine with me. I watched most of two movies I've seen several times (The Devil Wears Prada and Last Holiday) and got 15 bucks for my trouble.

We were released at about 3:45 because no afternoon misdemeanors were being heard. I took advantage of those extra afternoon hours and went grocery shopping. I am hosting a brunch on Saturday morning, dinner with my family on Sunday, and tomorrow night I'm seeing A, so I pretty much had to deal with my marketing obligations tonight, one way or the other.

The cabbie who spirited me home was interested in my wares. Our banter was pretty good. I halfheartedly considered that perhaps I should have agreed to meet him for a Guinness (man after my own heart), but then I realized that I am wary of such things with good reason. I told him if he was meant to see me again, he would.

Cornball, I know.

On other fronts, things with my new university are shaping up well. I'm just where I need to be in terms of applying for aid and all that. I'm just waiting for the second of those two letters to arrive so I can take relevant next steps (advisor procurement, ID cards, all that). I've got some time. The first day of class is 9/2.

my dinner

The News Is Good

Even though official letters to this end are still en route, I received an e-mail communique from the Director of the Program yesterday letting me know that I am in! "The news is good..." she told me. I had a feeling that I would find out just as all those big projects moved off my plate. Looking forward to being a student again, to a new computer (months down the road), and to gearing up for the next chapter.

Of course I read through my portfolio submission this morning in a spirit of reflecting on my own genius (mostly kidding) and spotted a slight typo. Immediately humbled. I started to think about the fact that perhaps they let me in thinking I could benefit from some help.

I won't be defeatist. Categorically, the news is good.