Coffee Rhetoric: decisions decisions
Showing posts with label decisions decisions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label decisions decisions. Show all posts

August 18, 2011

Spilling Open: Introspection

I haven't had the opportunity to spill open on here in a while. .. not in the fashion I'm accustomed to. "Diversifying" and introducing different elements to this blog has prompted me to sort of shut my personal self off. Since I can't afford the luxury of sighing and heaving to a shrink, I figured I'd get back to the middle and do it here. I miss spilling open here. The luxury of having my own forum and not restricting how I utilize my voice is a wonderful and freeing right to have. This very late and sleepless night, I choose to project in a very self-analytical way... for I'm the best, worst, most knowledgeable judge of me, myself, and I. 
Three days ago, I turned 34. I haven't had the opportunity to let the fact that I'm in my hardcore, mid-thirties, sink in until late last night and then now. I've always been an extremely leery woman, but it seems the older I get... the grumpier, more impatient, cut and dry paranoid I become about people's intentions (not to mention the insane hormonal changes my body is experiencing). My thoughts run a mile a minute... still... and my intuition goes into overdrive... The nights I can't sleep (which are often), I'm more in form and my emotions run the gamut.
Close friendships I've had for years are still intact, easy to maintain, and I cherish them. I also curse them for being so long-distance.  I'm finding that cultivating new ones is a difficult process for me. Sort of like the three times I've tried, to no avail, to care for and nurture organic  French lavender plants.  While I enjoy meeting their acquaintance, I don't trust people upon first coming into contact with them and schmoozing is a daunting task I'd rather avoid. My expectations of folks I fancy tend to be pretty basic, but high (within reason)... so when they generate a flaky outer-crust, I have visuals of them engaging in unsavory discussions about me when I'm not around and cackling at my expense after I've opened up to them (a la the movie, Carrie... when she flashes back to her mother mockingly telling her; "They're all gonna laugh at you!"). Mind you, none of the things I'm divulging charts the madness of an Angry Black Woman who's aging and coming undone. I've gone through some schtuff  over the years with people I considered friends, who eventually had no use for me once I stopped being able to provide them with the things they needed from me or who found someone more ride-or-die to guffaw and shoot the shit with. This is nineteen years worth of angst. I'm conflicted; sometimes  assholish when it comes to shielding myself... and so it manifests in a brooding, somewhat cold package ready to cut someone's jugular (or shutdown and close up shop, depending on the situation)- when I think I'm being compromised in some way. I stay solitary for the most part and actually quite enjoy doing things alone... In fact I find it gratifying and not unlike the scene from Catherine Breillat's French film, Romance... where Marie stalks her boyfriend to a sushi restaurant... chagrined by his flagrant pleasure in being alone eating his California rolls and reading his book ... without her... to which she mentally voices over that she would've rather found him cheating with another woman. 
While I dislike being a mercurial woman sans the desire to nurture deeper relationships with the opposite sex or entertain any new applicants for friendship, I've grown comfortable in my ... aloofness (for lack of a better term), as it's easy to just exist in a world unto myself and with people I'm comfortable with and who know me. But while my opaque and indifferent nature seems comforting and offers the protection I need from being inconvenienced in some way...  it's exasperating. 
Aging, learning how to deal with other people's personality quirks juxtaposed against my own, and fumbling towards my core presents an amalgamation of different feelings: perplexed, resistant, and frustrated ...
I understand that venturing outside the comfortable confines I've built around myself is a difficult but very necessary thing I need to experience more often... Despite it being so easy to withdraw and become self-contained... In essence, I just want to be left the hell alone; yet essentially I want to be happy having reached some sort of balanced medium... but I know this isn't a healthy or realistic expectation. What can I say?... I'm a middle child who embraces her right to err and grow. Stay tuned...

September 28, 2010

In Which I Wax Nostalgic About the Laws of Dating, My Uterus, and My Life

(c)Coffee Rhetoric
Aside from stumbling into an impromptu date here and there, I decided some months ago not to invest anymore stock, time, or energy actually searching for a date or trying to figure out why navigating the mechanics of dating sucks so hard. I've come to the conclusion that is just is what it is. Fumbling towards ecstasy seems to be the way to go. As I continue to hone my socialite life and fledgling writing/social media career past the point of starving artist, I've met the myriad of personalities and have literally stumbled into impromptu dates... fun ones sans the tension and anxiety of planned meetings ... I find that this works for me, sometimes. The pressure is off and I remain focused. These realizations hit me every year that I get older. 
Gone are the days where I feel the need to explain myself, my actions, my life or engage questions such as "What do you  do?" "Explain why you do..." and "Do you have any children?" <- (my least favorite question).  
It does offer the opportunity to choose from an assortment of obnoxious answers, however, or not to answer at all... slyly changing the subject.
 The fact of the matter is, I feel okay with not wanting to have any children or settle down... exploring my options as I see fit and not opening up those issues for scrutiny or debate. Ofttimes I feel comfortable with my personal choices and life. Unless someone's making a hefty deposit into my checking account to help toward my livelihood... depositing their two cents is non-negotiable. Being 33 allows me to feel okay with struggling toward the finish line in my race to accomplish my goals. 
(c)Coffee Rhetoric
The struggle (especially in this economy) is frustrating and exasperating, and I've faced several obstacles head on this year (reluctantly so in some instances), but it's a beautiful struggle nonetheless and it belongs to me... no one else. During this... my own personal triathlon, I try to find the balance between feeling frustrated and just simply enjoying myself... and so I may take a small detour and enjoy life's pleasures... such as perusing products on display... 
(c)Coffee Rhetoric
and taking in some theater productions  featuring the art of interpretive dance... 
 It's a gradual journey and I'm extremely hopeful, hungry, resolute, humbled, and driven. 

August 08, 2010

Maintaining

So far, I'm maintaining. Despite not being exactly where I'd like to be, not getting exactly what I want to have, so forth and so on, I feel somewhat at peace... somewhat. There're definitely intermittent moments where the weather forecast is fraught with cumulus clouds. During that those moments, Horus steps in front of me and angrily jabs his fist at the sky as Wadjet keeps me under her watchful eye... making sure I don't collapse in a dejected heap. It is then that I continue to flail and fight, the undeniable resolve of Sekhmet. 
Fringed ends are trimmed for good and I tightly knot the freshly shorn and intact ones. That is all the closure I need, because regressing is the interpretive dance form I'd rather not engage in. I'm exasperated, but I continue to trudge forth, shrugging off non essential baggage, lightening my load as best as I can, while holding on to those provisions crucial to my survival. I've got those neatly packed away in a trendy, brown leather hand bag. They sit amongst my lip gloss, hand cream, wallet, pepper spray, ear phones, and mobile phone. 
I'm sputtering forward, forcing my way through as many doors as I can push my way through... Please note the tip jar to the left. No bills lower than Good Karma and Well Wishes, thank you very much. 

June 12, 2010

Changements

 Path of least resistance: In physics, the path of least resistance is always taken by objects moving through a system. For example, water flowing downhill follows the path of least resistance as it is pulled downward by gravity. Electricity flowing through a circuit behaves similarly; while every available path has some current through it, the amount of current through each path is inversely proportional to its electrical resistance. Atmospheric disturbances (storms) flow on the path of least resistance by flowing toward zones of low barometric pressure, where lower air density offers less impedance to the storm system than higher pressure zones.

... So many changes, so little time.
I've been diverted, and have turned off of another exit. I feel... good; this is a good thing. As frazzling as change can be, I've grown accustomed to viewing each sudden development as a chance to breathe life into another entity; as the opportunity to explore, expound upon, to build. In the midst of these changes, I've had a nervous breakthrough which has manifested into a creative spurt. I love kicking through writer's/creative blocks. It's almost like playing a round of Tetris... once you fit a puzzle piece in its rightful place, all the rest disintegrates and explodes like fireworks, allowing the player to move on to the next level. I'm excited and extremely hopeful. Stay tuned.

February 17, 2010

NOT.The.One

Dear Life,
Alright, I get it! My tenacity has rubbed you the wrong way.  In fact, my resilience has driven you to test me over and over and over again. Almost to the point that I feel as if I've become your official whipping post.  Now, I was emphatic about starting this new year off to a great start... all around. But alas, to no avail, because you're constantly picking on me. Don't you have any con artists and sketchy characters to teach a lesson?
It wasn't enough that you stomped on my fingers repeatedly while I was desperately hanging onto that window's ledge for leverage a couple of years ago, feet flailing beneath me... desperate for firm footing, because you wanted me to fall onto hard concrete... a broken heap. When that didn't work...when I managed to pull myself up and in... throbbing fingertips and all... you withered away, shrieking like an exorcised banshee... vowing to come back to kick my ass.
Listen, this latest kick to the gut and ribs left me rolling on the floor, clutching my sides in pain. I was not expecting that type of assault. So why continue the onslaught while I'm down? I'm struggling. Crawling. Dragging myself across the floor, in an effort to ward off your attack and stand back up, and you reeled back with your stiletto heel, pointed to perfection- (hey, Karmic bitches need to look fly too)- and administered one final, sharp kick. I thought that one would cause me to projectile vomit all the fight I had left in the pit of my stomach, all over the walls. I was able to choke it back down, however. I curled up in a fetal position to ward off your wild attack as best as I could... as you flailed your fists, shrieked, spat, and stomped like a petulant toddler. I'm still in shock... my ribs and sides are still quite sure from that last kick. But I was still able get back up... and stagger to a safe corner to plot my next move and get my bearings and second wind back.
I'm still mulling. I'm still plotting. A little defeated and bruised... but up and pondering my next move. 

xoxo
Coffey


February 03, 2010

Just Drive

I feel like I've reached an impasse. A never-ending maze with an elusive exit. So many decisions, so many things to nibble away at, but I'm completely deadlocked. People, places, and things never cease to perplex the hell out of me. And at times, it's overwhelming. I've had moments where I've attempted to check out, but alas, to no avail, because worries, my thoughts continue to plague me. I manage to be aloof in certain aspects of my life i.e., dating; wishy washy suitors, and an endless supply of assholes. In other aspects? Not so much; opportunities, my livelihood, my future. 
Ofttimes I think I have a dubious guardian, who loves toying with me and seeing me grapple with the worst luck! Or perhaps I'm an unwitting contestant in some twisted reality television program, where the masses are watching me wrestle and fight my way to the top. I don't know, but I continue to shadowbox. To bob, weave, sidestep... dance... twirl my way to what I feel is rightfully mine! I'm at a loss right now. I don't know how to plot my next move but I do know that I'm ready for my turn. I'm thinking. I'm pondering. I'm pissed. Intense game of mind play at work. Please do not disturb!
The fight continues. This is round 20.

January 12, 2010

Witching Hour

I live basement level. Last night, during the wee hours, the pipes put up quite a ruckus. Banging! Clanging, Thrashing, ... the sounds were akin to someone hitting a metal baseball bat against a steel pole, with brute force over and over and over again. Pause. Then over again. Or perhaps something was trying to force its way through the heating vents above my bed? Was ceiling cat trying to make a nervous breakthrough? I'm not sure. Either way, I woke up in fits and starts. My heart leaped with every loud clang. I was already restless and edgy. I'm a chronic insomniac, and so was hungry for any semblance of sleep I could get. I'd suddenly drift off, and then CLANG! My heart thumped against my chest and my head started to throb. My mind started running its ever increasing lap. I tried in vain to lull and soothe my thoughts... to no avail. A bit paranoid and somewhat leery, I didn't get to sleep until 4AM. I felt like Catherine Deneuve, in Roman Polanski's psychological thriller, 'Repulsion,' minus the androphobia and sexual repression.
This late-late evening, I am still restless. While the malevolent spirit that lives in the vents is quietly lying in wait. Anxiety won't offer me any reprieve. I'm worried about many things. I'm antsy. I'm apprehensive. I'm resolute. I'm petulant. My eyelids are heavy and my retinas burn with fatigue. I want to cry frustrated tears, but because I'm resolute, I can't manage to squeeze any out... So, I'm keeping a vigil at this late hour ...

November 20, 2009

On and On, and On and On...

... The beat continues... throw in unusual dreams, a brief fugue state where I lost 24 hours and had my days mixed up, for I'm running on lack of sleep most of which I've caught up on, and bouts of stress related anxiety. Things that make my stomach gurgle with agitation: "Hang in there. We're living in difficult times," and the ubiquitous, "Have you found a job yet??" When all I asked was, was, "Hey, how's it going?" Sigh. Firstly, while I really appreciate a great pep talk, I'm not keen on being pepped if I'm not down, haven't asked for input, or needing to be picked up. I confide in family and close friends when I need to vent a frustration. I also have my creative outlets... most of which involves writing and this trusty old blog that's been with me through thick and thin, thank you (not) very much. The patronizing tone is enough to make my smile wane and my middle finger twitch. My fugue state wasn't so bad. I do have an alternate universe I like to vacation at every now and again.
Alas, I'm brainstorming a way to make my own opportunity come to fruition as I continue my triumphant march. In the meantime, if you're a virile and wealthy gentleman with a heart of gold to match your pockets, feel free to sponsor me and make my dreams of being a socialite come true.
I keed, I keed... ;-)

August 11, 2009

Getting On

Coffee, tea, wine, friends, me. Me, wine, coffee, he. He, she, a little poetry, family, books, and cultural activities... These things among other interests are helping me keep my sanity. These. things. are. helping. me. keep. my. SANITY.
I haven't inhaled any toxic or noxious fumes. My mind is still crystal clear. I have intermittent moments of frustration, but I'm still here. I can still hear. I'm can steal here. I have STEEL back there.
I'm rambling. But it's all incoherently connected. Thursday will find me spilling open in front of strangers, Saturday will find me a year older and ever the more wiser. Next week will find me still ducking, bobbing, and weaving as I shadow box. The week after next, I'll still be standing and tanner... my resolve stronger.
Needless to say, I've stumbled, but I'm none to worse for wear, despite those frustrating interludes. In SPITE of those frustrating interludes.
That is all.

July 13, 2009

These and Those

In the midst of job hunting, relaxing, and re-focusing, I've been trying to engage in activities that keep me, well, engaged. Free Jazz in Bushnell Park on Monday evenings, The Cipher themed night at local micro-lounge Cloud 9, catching up on reading and activities of the like. Being productive allows no room for sulking or having a pity party about my sudden turn of events. Besides, my spirits are still high and that's not the type of party I relish attending. Socializing allows me to be around people of my ilk... creative and relevant types. More importantly it offers a chance for some networking! The Cipher inspired me to dust off and revisit unfinished projects, to READ again. To FEEL again. Being a working stiff, sometimes I lose sight of my creative core. Granted, being a working stiff is vital to my livelihood, but next time around I won't let it encompass me to a point where I don't write... where I'm too tired to write, to get inspired. To seek opportunities outside my job, in hopes of parlaying my craft into something exciting and lucrative.
Additionally, I finally got my hands on a copy of Sapphire's "Push." Very difficult novel to swallow about the effects of poverty, physical/verbal/emotional and sexual abuse, and illiteracy. By far, this has got to be one of the most gripping passages I've ever read in a contemporary piece of fiction written in the character's (16 year old mother to be Precious Jones) voice (upon going to register for an alternative learning, pre-GED program):
... There has always been something wrong wif the tesses. The tesses paint a picture of me wif no brain. The tesses paint a picture of me an' my muver- my whole family, we more than dumb, we invisible. One time I seen us on TV. It was a show of spooky shit, an' castles, you know shit be all haunted. And the peoples, well some of them was peoples and some of them was vampire peoples. But the real peoples did not know it till it was party time. You know crackers eating roast turkey an' champagne and shit. So it's five of 'em sitting on the couch; and one of 'em git up and take a picture. Got it? When picture develop (it's instamatic) only one person on the couch. The other peoples did not exist. They vampires. They eats, drinks, wear clothes, talks, fucks, and stuff but when you git right down to it they don't exist.
I big, I talk, I eats, I cooks, I laugh, watch TV, do what my muver say. But I can see when the picture come back I don't exist. Don't nobody want me. Don't nobody need me. I know who I am. I know who they say I am- vampire sucking the system's blood. Ugly black grease to be wipe away, punish, kilt, changed, finded a job for.
I wanna say I am somebody. I wanna say it on subway, TV, movie, LOUD. I see pink faces in suits look over top of my head. I watch myself disappear in their eyes, their tesses. I talk loud but still don't exist.
That passage rocked me. I had to re-read it several times, especially that last bit. Not since Toni Morrison's Sula and Saul Williams's prose in She, has a book made me swallow hard.
Anyway, the beat continues and this one-woman band plays on. Without a doubt, I'm sure I'll have my moments, but I'll continue to shadowbox with the force.

June 30, 2009

Time: First Day

The Art of preparing breakfast, then about 2 hours of "networking."
... Then lunch break with a friend: Salmon Burger, small chicken tortilla soup, fries (I was hungry, brought the soup home anyway) and this stuff... Now more "networking"

June 29, 2009

Time

As of today, I have a lot of time on my hands... but hopefully not for long. Enough time however, to mull a lot of things over. I don't know how I feel about having all of this time, but I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I'm not particularly unhappy over having acquired all of this additional time. Bittersweet in some respects, overall I an overwhelming sense of relief in others. Oh I have worries as a single woman, but I am okay. Currently, I don't feel any sense of alarm or apprehension. So that time doesn't escape me, I need to get to thinking... Hm... where to start, where to start. ...

January 31, 2009

In Progress

While I'm as settled as one can be with minimal resources, I'm enjoying my new apartment. The building is quiet, I rarely see my neighbors (good thing), I have a whole area of basement hallway to myself and the walls are extremely thick- (I can blast my music to my heart's desire).
One advantage to being on the same floor as the laundry and mail facilities is that I can pretty much sneak out of my apartment looking as beat and bunk as I'd like (I did run into a neighbor checking also checking her mail yesterday evening, however. Fortunately I was on my way BACK to my dwelling, smiled quickly and hurried along). There is still a lot to acquire (whether I have to eventually purchase decorative items or someone finds it in their heart to donate them to me... this economy does suck you know). I'm sure I'll start to accumulate said items eventually. Furnishings are sparse, but I still feel as if I've made a cozy home nonetheless (albeit it a cold one!), I still engage in the things I enjoy doing at home best, particularly lazing about and watching foreign films. My bedroom still needs work... anyone have a beautiful and gently worn bedroom set they want to GIVE me?... but I enjoy it. The queen-sized inflatable bed is starting to wear thin on me, but it suffices for now. The other bedroom has no furnishings and I'm still trying to decide how I'd like to use it.

October 06, 2008

Digital Display

I stayed home from work today. I haven't had one of those days in a while, seemingly. I figured it'd be a great day to wash my hair, do laundry, and gather together my belongings... to decompress. Fortunately, I'm mostly packed and boxed. Many of my things are in storage. I'm hoping things work out, because the act of packing and moving and then apartment hunting all over again, are a pain... as I've discovered in this current economic climate. Things are a lot more tenuous, people are more leery and stressed. I'm fortunate that I stumbled on a situation, that was specific to my needs and what I was looking for! A new couch, a new bed with frame and other incidentals loom in my immediate future. More things to ponder. Perhaps once I'm settled, I can revisit the wacky world of *gasp* dating! It has been a while, and I must say, the peace and quiet of not fretting over some douche has been quite nice. Of course I plan on treading carefully. With all the steaming piles of shit all over the place, I'd hate to step in anything, due to stomping around precariously.
Anyway, I'm not exactly sure why I posted this video, but it seemed like the right thing to do. I've always thought Rosie Perez was extremely talented, and pro-active in her activism. This video just drives that point on home.

October 05, 2008

In Motion

I picked up the keys to my new place Friday (as awkward as it was- long story but will explain later)- and will be moving soon... Now if I could just get the truck bit sorted out...

August 26, 2008

School's in Session

How do I know? Because, despite the fact that I took an earlier bus to work, I still managed to be ten minutes late. Seems my bus got caught behind a stagnant school bus's flashing STOP sign, every other block! And once the children are settled and seated on the school bus, you know the driver has to fucking sit there for an additional five minutes, just to spite morning rush hour commuters, and to go "nah nah nah nah nah nah" over the fact that traffic HAS to stop when a school bus driver's STOP sign comes out.
I also noted the young hellions waiting at their respective stops. Faces greeeazed up and glistening. Scrubbed of this summer's funk and muck. School uniforms pressed new school bags slung over their shoulders as they waited to be picked up... reluctant yet hopeful looks on their faces. One kid looked downright distraught. As if he weren't quite ready yet. Needless to say, I do NOT miss those days. While some students' start date is this week, others begin the stresses of academia next week. I have been and will be avoiding the mall at all costs! Nothing worse than the school shopping rush! Wall-to-wall bodies taking up every inch of the mall. Parents sucking their teeth at indecisive and petulant tweens. Teenagers cutting their eyes at their mothers for not letting them purchase those $200 Citizens of Humanity jeans. I'd rather wait my turn.
As far as the Condo I Covet goes, progress has stalled. Par for the course unfortunately. See, the universe and the forces that be, seem to have it in for me. Contentment, PEACE never comes sans attached strings! I don't have it that easy. Some people are simply lucky bitches, others have to fight, beg, and plead for a little luck. For a tiny break. For some good karma. So in the meantime, I'm back to pounding the pavement (so I'll have a back up plan)- until I hear the good (or fucked up) word. My sanity is contingent on my settling into a place of my own again, and having some semblance of stability.

August 23, 2008

Pondering

While I wait- (still)- to learn the fate of whether I'll be renting the cute condo I covet, a few random thoughts have crossed my mind. Firstly, as of a few days ago of my follow-up, the Cooooondo Assosheashon <-- (this is me being antagonistic and petty, because I'm anxious and hopeful)- is apparently "still processing" my application. Hmm, I wonder if they've even actually started that process, because considering it has taken the bulk of this month, I'm starting to wonder if I have a looong criminal rap sheet that I'm not aware of. Perhaps some miscreant has taken over my identity, and went on some sort of whirlwind crime spree. If this is the case, I wonder if this imaginary criminal has been caught, and if they have... I wonder if they're smiling with their eyes, in the mug shot???
The birthday is done and over. It was nice and it was plentiful. I'm officially 31, even though those of middle age scoff and still say, "you're just a baby." I beg to differ, but whatever. I've no desire to regress back to being a girl, and do fancy myself a still relatively youngish woman. Every year is a learning experience and imparts wisdom or something revelatory to my sanity and growth as a better person. Within the matter of a week, I've learned that it doesn't matter how old a person is, they enjoy wallowing in negativity and will shun anything that may contribute to their own growth. That some people need, look for, and find reasons to act malicious or petty. Ah, the beauty of being agitated for the briefest of brief moments in time right before deciding not to give a flying fuck.
Anydumbass, I've been mulling the possibility of taking on a second job. Something unconventional that will earn me a little extra pocket change. ... Something that'd keep me even more preoccupied while I inch my way ever so closely toward stability. I have to figure out what it could possibly be.
P.S. I swiped the "thinking woman" image from this website. I don't know who the artist is.

July 25, 2008

This Much I Know is True

The past week or two has been doggedly hot and humid. In the throes of a relentless heatwave, it was down right oppressive. People dragged themselves down the street. Irritability was high, a sheen of muck and moisture coated every body, morning rush hour finding those same bodies moving in slow motion. I couldn't seem to move an inch without sweating. Then came the rain, thickening the air with even more moisture. A few days ago, I sat on a crowded bus during one of the hottest, most humid days.
It reeked of burnt flesh, sweaty (and sweated-out) hair relaxer, perfume, greasy take-out sandwiches, tangy ketchup, moist bodies, bunk old wig, shitty breath, and the last remnants of deodorant before it loses its valiant fight against must and b.o. This unusual perfume left me delirious and gasping for a fresher smell, and so I pulled out the rolled up green cotton cloth I had in my purse (a co-worker described it as a "sweat rag" when she saw me patting my brow with it) and breathed in the faint but sweet smell of my Black Linen perfume oil. Then I begin to mull over a series of realizations...
I've come to realize that lately, time escapes me. Free moments are spent catching up on sleep, movies, and running errands. I haven't dedicated enough time to this medium and I miss it. Perhaps once I'm completely settled the way I need to be, I can resume some sort o regular writing groove.
I've also come to realize that when one runs into a male co-worker outside, en route to work... during rainy day, it's never wise to answer "wet" when he asks, "Hey, how are you?" It just seems like a very awkward answer to a relatively simple question... and can leave it open to lewd interpretation. Despite its innocent intention.
I realize how wonderful it is to find amusement in stupid behavior. Rather than growing agitated and angry, finding comedy in the inane is good fun.
I realize pants I wore only a year ago, are now too tight. And I don't give a shit. Because I still think I'm cute.
You know what else I know is true? That my inclination toward the sexy can sometimes be painful and uncomfortable, and so it's a great idea to carry flats with me to work, and to keep my Pumas in my bottom drawer, in the event that I forget to bring my flats.
One of the truest other things I know is that ill-fitting clothes are no match for an unfit, misshapen hulk of a body. And so the summer heat encourages bad wardrobe choices.
Summer also brings about The Crazy. Prompting folks to acquire bravado the size of Europe, so they engage in fisticuffs in the middle of the street.
I realize that I'm sick of seeing shirtless men (especially of the "beer gut" variety) stomp-strutting down the street with their tee or wife beater slung over one shoulder, and their titties jiggling and baking in the hot.
I realize that in this harsh economic climate, I'm growing greedier for money. I'm all about the money. Not anyone else's however. I rely on me, myself, and I when it comes to my livelihood. I also realize how much I love those $.99 songs on itunes.
Lastly, I realized that while I am excited and I feel good about yesterday, I can't be 100% at ease until paperwork is signed in black and white and money changes hands. So I'll continue to pay my storage fees in the meantime. But I'm thinking it's going to continue to be a productive summer!

June 18, 2008

Please Beg My Pardon...

... I've had a fun past weekend on Cape Cod with my newly braced-up (she just got braces)- best friend Cat, and haven't had time to relay the sordid details. With various annoyances; irritating personalities, work related fatigue, agitation with my apartment search, wishy washy types, and the like- I'm literally drowning in a sea of foolishness. I'm none too worse for wear though. I'm fine but extremely tired. Dating and the opposite sex are a mere after-thought (if thought about at all) these days. Nothing but over-the-hill, married, middle aged men looking to play games and rap a wack verse anyway, to see if they still have it. Whatever it is. So I'm missing nada. I'm reveling in me, myself, and I. And oddly enough, I don't feel an ounce of remorse. Anyway, I'll be back in a minute. I'm exhausted and suffering from insomnia.

May 26, 2008

Argh!

Oh Jesus Christ almighty, Do I feel alright? No not slightly, I wanna get a flat I know I can afford it, It's just the bureaucrats who won't give me a mortgage, Well it's very funny cos I got your fucking money, And I'm never gonna get it just because of my bad credit, Oh well I guess I mustn't grumble, I suppose that's just the way the cookie crumbles. -Lily Allen, Everything's Just Wonderful
Apartment hunting is turning into an annoyance unparalleled. Even more tedious than hunting for a job!
I don't recall it being this much of a pain in the ass. I assume that the current economic climate we're living in has a lot to do with it. Personal experience and research has dictated that it's definitely best to rent from an individual landlord or privately owned buildings. As individual landlords seem more human than CORPORATIONS, who lower your FICA credit rating, apparently, every time they do a background check on prospective tenants.
Unfortunately, I seem to live in a sea of LEASING AGENCIES, saturating the classified ads and internet and who have made the process of renting one of their shady "luxury" apartments stringent. In fact JUST TO LOOK is a nightmare- As illustrated by one leasing consultant from an apartment complex that shall remain nameless, who tried to effing con me out of 25 bucks to LOOK at an apartment, notwithstanding the fact their website said it was FREE to look and that the credit check is what costs 25 dollars! I'm not surprised, considering all the negative reviews I read about said apartment complex on apartmentratings.com . Questionable leasing practices and dubious building maintenance seem par for the course, apparently. My prior history with a leasing CORPORATION has made me leery, but this experiences has pissed me off and left a bitter taste in my mouth.
These corporations want every thread of your personal information... this includes tax forms, your first born, two drops of blood, a urine sample, a strand of hair, and your dignity (which I'm struggling to hold onto with every fiber of my being)- because they've NEVER had to go through this process before, EVER. And so can't relate **(rolls eyes)** I also promised myself I also wouldn't go on a diatribe about the fifty dollars holding fee another leasing agency has YET to reimburse me, for holding an apartnemt I essentially didn't get afterall. Or that my phone call has YET to be returned, concerning my damn money!
The condo I MAY have rented sounded really promising, had I not been stood up on Saturday like a jilted date, by the woman leasing it. And who did not return my calls, when I phoned her to tell her I was very lost and couldn't seem to find the unit. Despite having asked several people, one of whom, unwittingly, led me into a sleeping pit bull's lair. Fortunately there was no violent show down and my limbs are still intact. I spent a lovely Saturday afternoon distressed, tearing up-frustrated behind a large, dark pair of shades (PMS no doubt), and stumping up and down the street hunting for my would-be condo. Alas, to no avail.
So the search for an apartment for rent, owned by an honest landlord who has some semblance of dignity and isn't a money grubbing asshole, continues. ... I know this annoying set of circumstances is happening for a reason and that when I DO finally find it, it will be a match made in heaven.