(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
When I got home I was very close to just staying upstairs, eating the pear that I'd forgotten at lunch, and lounging around watching more Politically Incorrect on YouTube while waiting for The Daily Show and The Colbert Report to come on.
But I wanted to do the nutritious thing and make a salad wrap for dinner ...
As I removed the container of spinach from the refrigerator, I heard a strange noise from above--and looked up just in time for the bottle of Frangelico to clock me on the side of the head, bounce off, and shatter on the floor. YAY.
And then the alarm in the blue room went off--signaling the possible presence of explosive gases in the apartment. SWELL. Really. Just AWESOME.
Then my parents were on the phone--me trying to clean up the spill and shards of glass with one hand--and they're nagging me about the roof situation.
Hi. I haven't eaten anything. The "explosive gas" alarm is going off. I have the deck door open to the 10 degree chill beyond in order to get the Frangelico fumes out of my home. I'm trying to clean my kitchen floor before it goes tacky with residue AND not step on broken glass. Nagging me is not a good idea right now.
I was ready to crush my mobile with my grip alone. I might do one day.
THEN when I finally had my food and was sitting in the red room, I managed to tip over my water and spill it on the floor.
I'm doing so well.
Lesson learned. If the first instinct is to stay upstairs, I should just stay the hell upstairs.
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
22 January 2009
shoulda, woulda, coulda
23 June 2008
and kicking
My downstairs neighbors (at least, I think it was my downstairs neighbors, since I don't imagine anybody else could've come in the front door, and wandered upstairs) left me a welcoming present from their favourite neighborhood bakery--croissants and danishes and bread. I think they must have dropped it off some time on Sunday, but I didn't notice until I walked out the door this morning. I feel kind of bad about that for a few reasons. One, I don't know how well the goodies will be now when they're not fresh. Two, I still haven't seen my neighbors. And now three, I really ought to thank them, and wish I had done yesterday ...
Anyway, I put the box of baked goods in the fridge before I left, so I hope I didn't spoil them by letting them sit out there on the landing overnight. I'm putting my faith in the preservative properties of sugar.
Damn it. I'm already a bad neighbor, and I haven't even talked to anybody yet.
I was trying to get everything out of the cardboard boxes, and didn't leave the house at all. On one hand, good for productivity. On the other hand, it would've been nice to wander my new stomping grounds. Oh, well. There will certainly be time for that.
Saturday night discovery--the cable is still hooked up. On a whim, I plugged in the television just to see, and now I'm wishing I already owned a modem. Still... That will be installed on Friday.
Turned on AMC for a background--The Last Samurai and Alexander being heralded as "Future Classics," with which I take some umbrage--while unpacking and then having dinner.
I had intended to sleep in yesterday, and I had left my iPod in the Sound Dock overnight for a sense of familiarity. And then, at around 0830, I awoke to a strange blend of Lunasa coming from the speakers, and swinging big band music--coming from outside. Think more casual New Orleans big band, rather than rigid marching band, and you'll have a good idea of the sound. And it would've been irritating, except that it was actually quite good. So I opened more of the windows and the deck door to let the music breeze in and through the house.
Timed the walk from my door to the station. It's a little under ten minutes at a very leisurely pace. I left about fifteen minutes sooner than necessary for my 0627 train. I think I'm going to pick up a 12-trip pass for the remainder of the month this afternoon, just to save time.
It's raining now. I hope my leaving the windows open a few inches wasn't a mistake. Guess I'll find out when I get home ...
02 June 2008
Happy June!
We seem to have skipped Spring, as per the usual for Boston weather. Cold, cold, rain, cold--muggy and unbearable! Really, there ought to at least be two or three weeks where I can leave the windows open in the morning and come home to a pleasantly cool room. No such luck.
New-home stuff moves along. I need more boxes.
No, Turbo, I'm not still holding my breath ... but I'm not jumping for joy yet either. Because I'm afraid of jinxing myself.
Finished reading Part II of Anna Karenina. Anna and Alexei's marriage is going down the drain, so that Anna can pursue her relationship with the other Alexei--Vronsky. Kitty isn't depressed about Vronsky anymore, but latching on to a kind of Born-Again-ness inspired by her trip to Germany. Aaaannnnd ... Levin is being a surly farmer.
I know it's epic and fabulous, and I really was drawn in by Tolstoy's description of Vronsky's doomed race horse. But ... well, I'm bored. The only reason I even bothered to tear through Part II was because I knew I'd be reading Funke and Pratchett when I was done. And now I'm reading Inkspell.
Speaking of Pratchett ... I have [ashamedly] been reading Teatime fan-fic. I blame Marc Warren and that neurotic part of me that falls for creepy men who probably smell nice.
Netflix delivered Tron and Turtles Can Fly. Tron was broken, so I've notified Netflix, and am mailing that back today. I still haven't sat down to watch Turtles Can Fly. It's not a movie you can watch while doing something else, because it's a Middle Eastern film with subtitles; and, yes, I could half-heartedly read every other subtitle while doing something else, but that kind of inattention will probably only lead to confusion and much rewinding.
Watched most of Season One of The Sopranos over the weekend on surfthechannel.com. Except that the second part of the season finale wouldn't load, so I'm left hanging. Maybe I can get it to work for me today. Tony's mannerism remind me much of my grandfather (who actually looked more like Paulie, but ...), except that Tony is actually more socially evolved than my grandfather ever was. Fear and distrust of psychiatry is spot-on, except that Tony moves beyond that and has a psychiatrist. My grandfather never got beyond that distrust--which was unfortunate for his kids, because more than a few of them have serious unresolved issues. Also, Junior looks a lot like my Great Uncle Pat.
It's fun to compare pronunciation of Mid-Atlantic Italian with actual Italian. Everything is a little mutated.
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