i dont want to and you cant make me

ok, perhaps they can. anyhow, the title of my post refers to the fact that this is supposed to be my first day back at work after 2 weeks off. 2 weeks off is just trouble, because it gives me enough time to completely forget about the fact that i even have to work for a living at all and move on with my life. it's like a breakup, where at first you feel a little weird not having that other entity around, then you get used to it and finally you love it so much you can't ever imagine going back. and that was just the first 3 days. the remaining 11 were just plain heaven, i LOVE not working. i will say it again I LOVE NOT WORKING. there are people who are attached to and validated by their careers and the fact that they do something and contribute things, etc etc etc.

i am not one of them.

i can quite happily fill up my days with nothing other than leisure activities, housework and cooking. and visiting poor suckers who do work. i've done this before and never been happier, dreamy sigh...money without having to work. perhaps i will buy a lotto ticket today; just in case today is the day.

vacations, and this is a plus that can not be ignored. anyhow, the upshot of working for a living is that it does help to finance some pretty badassi've been back from central america for a week now, and already i want to go back. for like a month. to this end, i've decided i'm going to locate a spanish class locally to take (in addition to the spanish teaching podcasts i listened to all the way home from boston. i have hellos down pat. at least in the car anyway. now to subject some spanish speakers to them and see if it works out loud in public as well) i am also going to be relentlessly subjecting any spanish speakers i know to my efforts. i figure working with friendly folks is a good way to start out, that way if i accidentally say something like "your mother dresses like a pig" when i mean "so pleased to meet you", i have half a chance of walking away without a black eye.

the upshot of vacation being over is that i am back home, which is funny because i was having so much fun i didnt think i missed home, but here i am, and all "aaah" and stuff. it was nice to sleep in my own bed (even though my cat is near hysterical with joy at having me back and has literally set a world record in SCREAMING which was flattering until about 2am and just annoying thereafter) and this morning when i woke up there was no wondering where i was going to get a proper coffee, or being sad that i had to get dressed to make said coffee imbibement happen. nope, i just sidled downstairs in my pjs and made what i already knew would be a delicious just right made-for-me cup o ' joe.

the downside of vacation being over is that vacation is over. sigh. i still have not had the courage to log on and download my work e-mails because 2 weeks is a long time and i am a little scared. but i know i can do it, and more to the point i know i have to. i know this because my boss already called me last week, allegedly to tell me they missed me at work which i read to mean "get back to work dammit, your grunt work bores us" (i make teleconferences fun, what with all the barking and meow-howling and hushed yelling that goes on at my end of the line, punctuated by the occasional pop/fizz of me opening a frosty beverage that noone is 100% sure is not a beer but is more usually diet coke)

the last 2 weeks have been awesome, because in addition to the adventure filled central american part there was much hanging out and carrying on with both my asian and my lady friends, which is something i haven't had since the holidays and desparately needed. and i could literally talk all day about all that went on (and perhaps in a desperate attempt to avoid work later i may try it) but for now i have to press the connect button in my outlook. and i need to go outside while that happens, because if i dont i will obsessively watch the little blue number next to my inbox inflate and thats just no way to live.

happy monday party people.

p.s. i love parentheses and i am not ashamed (not even a little)!

lawn treatment, chemical free...mostly

So a few weekends ago, someone was talking about how much he loves baltimore. He said it's got bite, and there are thing that happen here that could "only happen in baltimore", which is kind of true. there's lots of times I see something and just think: "totally Baltimore, right there" I don't know if it's a factor of the police having so much work to do that they don't sweat the small stuff or what, but it's good for a laugh lots of times.

Well yesterday, I had one of those moments. Unfortunately noone was around to share it and my neighbors failed to see the humor so I shall share it with ye, all 3 of you reading this.

I'm sitting on the couch minding my Ps and Qs when a clown car of crackheads rolls up and proceeds to dump 6 people and absurd quantities of lawn equipment right out front. My lawn being roughly 15x20 feet, anything more than 3 pieces of equipment is deemed excessive for the job. (disclaimer: i call them crackheads, and this may be stereotyping but i'm ok with that. i mean, perhaps they were just skinny, scabby, confused looking special people with few teeth and it was all an amazing coincidence. anyway, i digress.)

So the motley crew begins working on the lawn, and I'm wondering if this is one of those things where they come to your door for money and do your lawn, but people usually make sure to get paid first in those cases, so then I'm just thinking "sweet. free lawn care". I don't know what's going on, and I don't care. I hate lawn work, so cool if someone else wants to do it. Far be it from me to stand in their way. I go out back because the combined noise of the weedwhacker and crackheads babbling at each other is disturbing my peace. Apparently they were disturbing my neighbors peace as well as she came out back, looking very sad and disturbed and asked me to ask them to not weedwhack so close to the ground, theyre kicking up rocks etc and "it's making pings on her windows". I told her to go ask them (she has conflict avoidance issues and I'm helping her work on them. ha!) and she says she did but they told her no (!! how fucking great is that!? ) so I heave a giant sigh and decide I'll go do it and tell her she should watch to see how "No" is a jumping off point in negotiations. First I call my landlord to see if he's suddenly providing lawn care. He's not which I sort of knew. So I continue out front and try to get the attention of maniacal weedwhacker #1, which I finally do by SCREAMING (I can yell louder than a weedwhacker. go me!)

So I explain to the very nice, obviously f'ed up dude that he needs to quit what he's doing, 1) because he's worked my neurotic neighbor up and she's bitching at me and 2)they're at the wrong address. I did not order clown car o' crackheads' lawn services. They begin to pass this message down the bucket brigade, as apparently crackhead #1 speaks to people, but #2 only speaks to #1, #3 to #2, etc. The message (which I hear clearly from dude #5 but have to wait until it gets through to #1) comes back up the line that no, they're sure they're at the right place and Mr Tom sent them. Operator? I have no idea who "Mr Tom" is. Back/forth. "But this is (my house number, my street number here)" yep, it sure is. "Well then" says the group's designated public speaker "we in the right place" and proceeds to look like he's about to fire up the whacker again. I'm seriously tempted to just let them finish, because they're like half done at this point but I see the neighbor's curtains wiggle and I know she's in there silently fuming like any good conflict avoider and I just don't want to hear it again so I tell him "I believe y'all* might need to call Mr Tom and confirm that, because I definitely don't know him and I really think you're at the wrong place. I'd hate to think of you not getting paid because you did the wrong house". zing, heads swivel and tilt up and down the line. you talk money, people listen. I also add, for good measure, that in Baltimore all numbered streets have both east and west sides. They had mentioned neither when telling me the address, and I'm pretty sure this is where they went wrong.

(*y'all: I live south of the mason dixon line now. as part of embracing my new southern roots, I have decided to incorporate some southern phrases into my vocab. y'all is a personal favorite)

So they call Mr Tom, find out theyre at the wrong place and production immediately halts. I immediately wish I had waited until they finished to go out there, because they stop raking, stop sweeping, stop all of it and just throw their kit in the car and head for the other side of Charles. I'm a little put out, because now I have to rake when I really wasn't planning on it, but when I got out to see their work my mood was instantly lightened. The lawn is BALD. Down to the dirt, "grass? what grass?" bald. I will not have to mow this bad boy for at least a month, IF anything ever grows again. It kind of looks like chernobyl or something, all diseased and unable to grow grass. They basically shaved my lawn with the weedwhacker, and I find this hysterical so I'm raking as best I can while doubled over laughing about the whole thing (note: neighbor is now SURE I've hired them, because why else would I be raking their work, and how could I find this funny?? I try to explain to her, that no, I have not suddenly come into money and decided to hire a lawn service. I tell her I may be lazy, but damn I am *cheap*; believe this. Also, if I were going to hire someone, he would be hot and probably foreign, because that's how all the rich and famous roll but it would most certainly not be a car full of the ruthless and toothless city's finest. She remains skeptical, but because she is a conflict avoider she drops the topic and goes to her room with a headache)

I was not bold enough to photo the crew while they worked, but here is a glimpse of their handywork. Thankfully they didn't get to the whole lawn, so I have some "before" type pictures.

what the part they didnt do looks like. i don't believe in using good water on silly ground, so it's a bit dry and the grass isnt great, but its there...


what the lawn looks like now

dramatic difference here

crackheads dont work for free. this is the aftermath of the troops early withdrawal from Operation Vegetation Obliteration.

late week/Weekend update (in review, it should be called what star did this weekend)

so this weekend sort of came and went in a bit of a laze/haze. friday night after a seriously painful day in the office, star and i wrapped up executive affairs and hit the road for baltimore.

i was finally able to stomach food around 7 and got home at 11.

good thing one of us was capable of maintaining. i wonder if anyone even noticed.

HN came over to talk to me in soothing tones and remind me to drink water, which was very decent of him seeing as how i was feeling poorly from a night out at a gentlemen's club. he actually found this very funny, bless his heart. dude might be a keeper.

saturday star and i went awandering in the woods on some trails we heard about and found a perfect little place to settle in, for her to swim and me to read and loll about on a blanket absorbing the sun's healing rays.

there was much adventuring:

discovering of things that made noise in the bushes

ecstatic writhing around in things that apparently smelled fantastic

the rocky terrained hunt for the perfect stick, which happened to be on the top of the pile

repeated investigation of the thing i seemed to be so involved in playing with, aka the extreme closeup series, part X

later in the day HN and i hung out and read (and by read i mean i took a nap and drooled on his pillow, how embarrassing) and upon waking we decided to eat only i spilled stuff all over me. i asked if he had something i could change into because going home just seemed like too much work. i was thinking shorts and a t shirt when he whips out a few dresses. i was about to give him the 'ok baby, it's a little weird that you have dresses plural kicking around' speech when he said "oh dont worry, theyre from me" at which point i DID give him the 'baby it's a little weird that you have dresses plural kicking around' speech. he went on to explain that it was something to do with halloween, yak yak yak. riiiiiiiight. in then end, i decided he had horrible taste in dresses and needs help with his pickings next time, whatever his alleged reason for buying them is. the dress i chose was a lovely buttercream color with floral and fruital accents. when it was time for me to run home, we had a laugh about how *not* out of place i would look in that on our neighborhood.

here i am in the amazing sack dress. i should have pulled it to show how roomy it was for me. all i would have needed is a baby on one hip and a smoke in the other to be the total hampden queen.

has your grandmother mentioned any of her clothes have gone missing? the next time he goes to pick out a dress im helping, this is just hideous.

today is just soup and domestic chores. i'm trying to finish up unfinished stuff before my trip next week (next week! yay!) and thought i would get my sister's curtains done. not so. i did one, but i SUCK at sewing and it just was not working for me today. i thought it better to put it aside rather than ruin it all and/or toss the sewing machine out the window.

other than that, nothing doing. just dreading monday and counting days until we depart for guatemala. sigh...

help me.

i went to a gentlemen's club with a bunch of work people last night. i drank a lot of martinis. i have a headache. :(