There was a letter somewhere in the proximity of my front door when I dragged my ragged ass home a few minutes ago. Seems it wasn’t an eviction notice, but a rent increase.
A $100-a-month rent increase.
Starting, oh, THURSDAY.
Goodbye, cable. The TV is dying a quick death anyway. So much for getting a new one.
My abhorrence of my existence grows.
1. What is the most annoying ringtone you have ever heard?
I hate all those old-school ringtones that are *supposed* to sound like a song but really sound like you’re hitting all the buttons on your Commodore 64 keyboard at the same time.
Hell, I just hate when the phone rings in general. Because nobody calls to say hello anymore — they only call when they want something. Hence why I never, ever make a call — you know I’m desperate or dying or that I’ve thought about it really hard before I got the cajones to dial.
2. What is the best Christmas or holiday CD ever?
My hatred of holiday music is overwhelming. But c’mon, who doesn’t love Vince Guaraldi? Even my cold widdle heart melts for that one. (Because I *~*heart*~* “Peanuts.”)
3. Is there snow on the ground where you are?
I just drove through Somerset, Pa., on Thursday, where it was snowing like a mofo and the streets hadn’t been salted yet. And boy was my car a hideous salt fest for the weekend as it snowed in Pittsburgh at the same time and I could only get into Mom’s and my cars by going through the trunk and throwing my ass against the driver’s side door from the inside. Whee. Yay fat ass.
But here in Virginia? Not a drop, although on Wednesday night, I was doing laundry and running around in flip-flops as it snowed. The shit didn’t stick. Good times.
4. Would you rather crap over a beehive in the woods or on the sidewalk in Manhattan?
Hoo boy, that’s tender meat you’re talking about. Gimme a Manhattan sidewalk instead of the hive. I *~*heart*~* my hoo-ha in its working condition, thanks.
5. What is in the perfect omelet?
Mmm, sausage and cheddar. Or spinach and feta. Depends on the day, but always one of those two.
6. When do you consider it appropriate for a woman to use the clearly marked men’s restroom in a restaurant, bar or other public space?
Um, when there are eleventy frillion women waiting in line at the girls’ room. Or when it’s flooded. I don’t know — I have no shame. I’ve used many a men’s room in my day. They’re no worse than the dry-roasted ass smell in most ladies’ rooms.
7. Do you use compact flourescent light bulbs?
Say wha? No idea. I buy “cheap.” That’s all I notice — the right wattage at the right price.
8. Paper or plastic?
Paper IN plastic. Screw the environment — I’m so NOT a tree-hugger. 😉
9. What career should my friend Janet consider after she has made enough money to escape the prison of student loans (she’s currently an attorney)?
There is no escape. Because she will be 80 and her career choices will be Wal-Mart greeter or bingo night organizer.
10. Ask me something.
Will you be heading to H&M for your next clothes-shopping odyssey?
Subtitle: Ze pain! Ze PAIN!!!
This weekend, I helped my ailing mother and grandfather move into a lovely rented house high atop a hill. In sum, I:
That last one is my favorite. 😉 I’m sure there are more, but Mom has threatened to beat me (when she’s able to move her arms again) if I blog the move. Heh.
The house is so cute. I’m not embarrassed to pull up to it like I was with the last one. I am scared, though, that the move was too hard on my family — I was terrified to leave them.
They couldn’t thank me enough, but I told them I was just repaying Mom for that week we spent packing my shit to move from Mount Washington (Pittsburgh) to Virginia. Especially the night my smoked-glass coffee table top shattered into seventy billion pieces on the street at 3 a.m. (damn heat — it burst in my hands as I carried it).
As we were vacuuming (the street, yes) and sweeping the mess, the cops came — thinking we were on crystal meth and out of our minds. Well, the latter half was true, and they let us carry on. Whee.
I hate moving. And my own is coming up entirely too soon. …