I haven't written anything in the past few days, because I've been mulling over a lot. The pure happiness of soon moving to Henderson has given way to the reality of it. Not that there's a whole lot of difference between the mentally-flying-through-clouds-on-one's-own-power phase and thinking about what has to be done, because this is where we want to be, so it won't be as stressful as the past few times that we've moved. But it's a matter of thinking, "What do I want? This is my future."
I understood more yesterday sitting with Mom and Meridith at the McDonalds inside the Wal-Mart Supercenter on Carl Boyer Drive, right near the Food Center entrance. This was the second day that they were shopping for bras, the previous day spent at two Targets, with me reading Medium Raw by Anthony Bourdain, two different copies. And since I'm up to page 144, and there's 320 pages, I don't feel the need to buy it, so I'll just finish it whenever we get to another Target.
I don't have any concern about what we have to do in order to move. It has to be done, just like the previous times, and so it shall be done. We're good at that already. But what do I want to do? What would make me happy? I've indicated my plans before, but process and preferences also factor into it, what you need to make it work for you as you strive to achieve what you want.
At that McDonald's, Meridith and Mom's lunchtime and my slight snack of 6 McNuggets and a medium fry (I had had lunch before we left the house, but I wasn't going to pass up McNuggets), Mom talked again about our future apartment complex, and I remembered that Mom had told us before about the full-size basketball court. For me, it is like going back to Disney World. Las Vegas is an adult Disney World for me, and when we lived in Casselberry at the time we went to Disney World seemingly all the time, I had a basketball hoop next to the driveway. I'm getting that back, and I'm going to live somewhere that will likely fire my imagination often just like Disney World did for all those years. It fits.
But more than that, as Mom talked about many of her and Dad's experiences driving around Henderson, the restaurants they stopped at, the people they talked to, I figured out the perfect time to send my resumes and cover letters to the nearby schools that I hope will hire me: You see, the charter school in Henderson didn't quite work out. They started with a very lowball offer and not only that, but apparently, the computer tech guy is also privy to this information, as he was cc'd in various e-mails to my Dad, and that doesn't smell right. This should be a matter of privacy between the necessary parties. And when Dad wrote back with his request that the salary should be higher, also factoring in his experience, the reply e-mail was cc'd to people that you wouldn't think should be involved in such a decision-making process. So his resumes and cover letters are also going out to other schools now, schools within the Clark County District, too. And once he hooks into something and it's absolutely confirmed that we're on our way, I'm sending my resumes and cover letters. I want to be certain I can go on job interviews without any issue of distance.
Something else was also confirmed for me. I went back and forth on it for years, thinking that my life felt complete enough with my books and the ones I plan to write, and the ones I'm doing research for right now, but enough. I want someone to be as integral a part of my life as my books are. I want an avid reader, someone who loves old movies and is wary of current output, and just someone who lights me up emotionally and mentally.
Well, at that McDonald's, Mom described the guy at the apartment complex office in better detail than I had previously known. She said he loves old movies, hates the new ones. He used to be heavily into movies, though not as much as I was (For me, it used to be an all-the-time thing), and isn't as much now, preferring books (as I do). A lot of them; like I do.
He hasn't owned a TV in nine months, which I can't do because Jeopardy! doesn't come in a book.
After Meridith heard all this, she turned to me and said, "It's a shame he's not a girl."
I'm on the right track. My sister knows me all too well. I am not only sure of what I want in a potential mate, but I know that I don't want to spend years upon years looking for her. At 27, I'm still young, but I would like to enjoy that person, hopefully for the rest of my life.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
"They Call Him Sheldon at Work."
I was standing in line at Chik-fil-A, waiting to get my sister's sweet tea refilled, not knowing that all you had to do was go over to where the orders are laid out and ask there. We don't go to Chik-fil-A that often, so it's not something I considered.
In line in front of me is a heavyset man with a cap on, and his wife. He was wearing a "Bazinga!" t-shirt with a picture of Sheldon above it. I was wearing a t-shirt that had the Klingon version of "Revenge is a dish best served cold," along with the English translation underneath, and Sheldon between both.
The wife noticed my shirt and said, "Hey, look at that!", and her husband and I talked briefly about our love for The Big Bang Theory. Then his wife told me, "They call him Sheldon at work." I then listened to them deciding what to order, and when he told his wife what he wanted, he sounded exactly like Sheldon sounds when he orders something.
I thought, "Only at work?"
In line in front of me is a heavyset man with a cap on, and his wife. He was wearing a "Bazinga!" t-shirt with a picture of Sheldon above it. I was wearing a t-shirt that had the Klingon version of "Revenge is a dish best served cold," along with the English translation underneath, and Sheldon between both.
The wife noticed my shirt and said, "Hey, look at that!", and her husband and I talked briefly about our love for The Big Bang Theory. Then his wife told me, "They call him Sheldon at work." I then listened to them deciding what to order, and when he told his wife what he wanted, he sounded exactly like Sheldon sounds when he orders something.
I thought, "Only at work?"
Thursday, June 9, 2011
The Run of the House is Over
Mom and Dad came home late yesterday afternoon bearing many most-welcome gifts. Two notepads, a napkin and a cup from Bellagio, for one, the napkin and the cup being from Cafe Gelato, where they spent part of their 29th wedding anniversary. Most important to me were the two bags of newspapers brought home, newspapers I intend to read completely. I started last night with The Henderson Press, and by the first article, I already had a favorite reporter in there, and I hope he's still there by the time I become a resident in August. I've also heard that there's a box containing The Henderson Press near the mailboxes at our future apartment complex. I'll be getting that every Thursday when it comes out. I won't let that one sit.
They brought home the Friday and Sunday editions of the Las Vegas Review-Journal, as I asked, as well as the two most recent issues of Las Vegas Weekly, one touting their awards that they give based on voting in different categories (The Pinball Hall of Fame was named "Best Place to Take Your Kids"), and the other about the burlesque scene in Las Vegas. I liked the burlesque cover for obvious reasons, but I'm equally excited about both because here, I just skim through the L.A. Weekly. I don't relate to much in there. I relate to nearly everything in Las Vegas Weekly. Plus, I get to read Josh Bell, my favorite film critic, regularly. I discovered him in 2007 while reading an issue of Las Vegas Weekly while we waited for a table at Burger Bar at Mandalay Bay, before seeing "Mamma Mia!" downstairs at the Mandalay Bay Theater. Unlike many other film critics, Bell isn't looking to become the next Roger Ebert. He loves movies, he knows movies, and that's enough. Plus, he's as bright as the desert he calls home.
Meridith's happy about the new apartment because within the complex, there's a tennis court. I've been told that there's a full-size basketball court, so I'm set. The last time I had a basketball hoop was next to our driveway when I was a kindergartner in Casselberry, Florida. And being that I consider Las Vegas and the surrounding areas my new Disney World, it's fitting that I have the chance to play basketball regularly again. I consider all of this my new Disney World because going to Walt Disney World every weekend and sometimes during the week just for dinner when I was little always fired my imagination, and partly led to me becoming a writer. Vegas does the same to me all the time, and I've always believed that if you're a writer and you can't find anything to write about in Las Vegas, just quit.
Now the process begins. Now it's time for me to ditch a lot of books and DVDs, taking what is only crucial and necessary to my life. Now it's time to open up boxes we haven't seen since we moved to this apartment six years ago and figure out what we're going to take with us, or not. Now is the time for the anticipation to build, to be happy about what's ahead for us, and then to be so excited when we get there and settle, that we'll have no choice but to burst like Mr. Creosote in Monty Python's Meaning of Life. And then we'll put ourselves back together and figure out where to go out to eat. There's a lot more choice there than there ever has been here. And that's the biggest understatement of my entire life.
For once, Mom's not constantly repeating how much she hates this place, because she knows that there's far better living arrangements ahead. She's talked to us excitedly about everything she experienced there and described the apartment to us many times, as well as the new cable system we'll enjoy, which includes a Tivo that can record four things at once, and whatever's on the Tivo can be sent to any room. Plus, the channel lineup is nice, including Boomerang, Nicktoons (I wish they would show Doug), and I have Turner Classic Movies back, as well as a few sports channels I never had, so I can find basketball more often now.
This will be real living. Not just living and waiting and surviving as it has been these many years. Every single day a new experience. This is going to work.
They brought home the Friday and Sunday editions of the Las Vegas Review-Journal, as I asked, as well as the two most recent issues of Las Vegas Weekly, one touting their awards that they give based on voting in different categories (The Pinball Hall of Fame was named "Best Place to Take Your Kids"), and the other about the burlesque scene in Las Vegas. I liked the burlesque cover for obvious reasons, but I'm equally excited about both because here, I just skim through the L.A. Weekly. I don't relate to much in there. I relate to nearly everything in Las Vegas Weekly. Plus, I get to read Josh Bell, my favorite film critic, regularly. I discovered him in 2007 while reading an issue of Las Vegas Weekly while we waited for a table at Burger Bar at Mandalay Bay, before seeing "Mamma Mia!" downstairs at the Mandalay Bay Theater. Unlike many other film critics, Bell isn't looking to become the next Roger Ebert. He loves movies, he knows movies, and that's enough. Plus, he's as bright as the desert he calls home.
Meridith's happy about the new apartment because within the complex, there's a tennis court. I've been told that there's a full-size basketball court, so I'm set. The last time I had a basketball hoop was next to our driveway when I was a kindergartner in Casselberry, Florida. And being that I consider Las Vegas and the surrounding areas my new Disney World, it's fitting that I have the chance to play basketball regularly again. I consider all of this my new Disney World because going to Walt Disney World every weekend and sometimes during the week just for dinner when I was little always fired my imagination, and partly led to me becoming a writer. Vegas does the same to me all the time, and I've always believed that if you're a writer and you can't find anything to write about in Las Vegas, just quit.
Now the process begins. Now it's time for me to ditch a lot of books and DVDs, taking what is only crucial and necessary to my life. Now it's time to open up boxes we haven't seen since we moved to this apartment six years ago and figure out what we're going to take with us, or not. Now is the time for the anticipation to build, to be happy about what's ahead for us, and then to be so excited when we get there and settle, that we'll have no choice but to burst like Mr. Creosote in Monty Python's Meaning of Life. And then we'll put ourselves back together and figure out where to go out to eat. There's a lot more choice there than there ever has been here. And that's the biggest understatement of my entire life.
For once, Mom's not constantly repeating how much she hates this place, because she knows that there's far better living arrangements ahead. She's talked to us excitedly about everything she experienced there and described the apartment to us many times, as well as the new cable system we'll enjoy, which includes a Tivo that can record four things at once, and whatever's on the Tivo can be sent to any room. Plus, the channel lineup is nice, including Boomerang, Nicktoons (I wish they would show Doug), and I have Turner Classic Movies back, as well as a few sports channels I never had, so I can find basketball more often now.
This will be real living. Not just living and waiting and surviving as it has been these many years. Every single day a new experience. This is going to work.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
I'm Going Home!
The charter school that Dad had a job interview at in Henderson called the house and left the message. DAD GOT THE JOB!!! The offer letter is coming by e-mail within a week.
Henderson, Nevada will now be home, and the moving won't seem so stressful this time.
Henderson, Nevada will now be home, and the moving won't seem so stressful this time.
The Run of the House: Day 9 - Homeward Bound
Mom and Dad got the PT Cruiser back yesterday and it's all been repaired properly, but they have to go back to the mechanic today to get the back left brake light adjusted. After that, they're coming home. It'll have been 10 days for them in Las Vegas and Henderson, the same number of days as that second trip to Southern California back in 2003 when they found not only a job for Dad, but an apartment, too; nearly the same as this trip, save for the job, which we're still awaiting word on, but hoping that it comes through.
This also means that the cycle of chores has built itself up again, more urgent than in previous days, though fortunately the list of chores they gave before they left have long been done. This time, I begin with a question: Where do we store the seven full white garbage bags until their contents can be donated? They're sitting near the right wall that faces the dining room table, and are protruding so that when Meridith's sitting at the table with her laptop (The same as Dad does with his laptop in the same spot), I have to do some slight ballet to get through. We're thinking that the garage may be best for now, so long as they eventually disappear.
The day before yesterday, I washed my collection of underwear and socks, so I've got to fold all of that, preferably before they get home, because surely they'll have things of their own to wash (The washing machine at Hawthorne Suites was not kind to all the clothes. The day after they had been done, Dad's pants ripped while he and Mom were out, so they had to go right back there so he could put on another pair). Meridith told me yesterday that we have to dump the litter from the birds' cages today and put in fresh litter. That means not only vacuuming around and through the stands on which their cages sit, but also near Kitty's cage since I still haven't vacuumed what was left after she tore the stuffing and then the padding out of her kennel mat when Meridith and I were out. I'm also thinking about whether to vacuum Mom and Dad's room again, but just a quick run this time. Not as much to clean.
Probably the recycling from the kitchen has to go out to the bin in the garage, so I'll do that. I'm guessing that they'll either leave Vegas in the late morning or the early afternoon after seeing the mechanic again (That's one of the nice things about this trip: We know a few people now for things we might need. People who have lived in the area for years). That gives us plenty of time, since they'll probably stop in Baker on the way back, and then through Victorville. They couldn't go back yesterday since it was close to the evening, and Dad doesn't drive at night anymore. Not great distances, anyway.
I've enjoyed these ten days, the reading I've done, the time spent watching the ice skaters and hockey players at Valencia Ice Station, and the arcade there; the thoughtful walks past the houses of Creekside Valencia, admiring the cookie-cutter patterns (though there is a feeling of home with a few of those balconies and porches), walking the paseo--probably for the last time--that I used to walk when we lived in Valencia, lunch at Five Guys Burgers and Fries, dessert at Menchie's, being awe-inspired by the passion for makeup among the employees at Sephora (and the raw charisma of many of them), and also just walking through a mall that hasn't quite been mine since Waldenbooks closed, but now truly belongs to others. I'm not really a mallrat, but I do love walking through them occasionally, and the malls to be found in Southern Nevada will keep me plenty interested, including that Henderson library branch inside the Henderson Galleria. You cannot find that anywhere else.
If these past few days have turned out to be a farewell to this valley, as I hope they will be, then it was a proper farewell at exactly the right time. I do not feel animosity toward this valley, even with all the frustrations personal and otherwise that I have experienced, but I know that no longer does any part of this valley interest me. Not that much of it did after we moved from the apartment in Valencia to the one in Saugus after that first year, but the views to be seen from the paseo, from the overpass crossing onto the paseo, do not at all compare to the views that can be found in Las Vegas. Finally, I know where I belong, and I intend to get there. This valley belongs to others. I'm going home.
This also means that the cycle of chores has built itself up again, more urgent than in previous days, though fortunately the list of chores they gave before they left have long been done. This time, I begin with a question: Where do we store the seven full white garbage bags until their contents can be donated? They're sitting near the right wall that faces the dining room table, and are protruding so that when Meridith's sitting at the table with her laptop (The same as Dad does with his laptop in the same spot), I have to do some slight ballet to get through. We're thinking that the garage may be best for now, so long as they eventually disappear.
The day before yesterday, I washed my collection of underwear and socks, so I've got to fold all of that, preferably before they get home, because surely they'll have things of their own to wash (The washing machine at Hawthorne Suites was not kind to all the clothes. The day after they had been done, Dad's pants ripped while he and Mom were out, so they had to go right back there so he could put on another pair). Meridith told me yesterday that we have to dump the litter from the birds' cages today and put in fresh litter. That means not only vacuuming around and through the stands on which their cages sit, but also near Kitty's cage since I still haven't vacuumed what was left after she tore the stuffing and then the padding out of her kennel mat when Meridith and I were out. I'm also thinking about whether to vacuum Mom and Dad's room again, but just a quick run this time. Not as much to clean.
Probably the recycling from the kitchen has to go out to the bin in the garage, so I'll do that. I'm guessing that they'll either leave Vegas in the late morning or the early afternoon after seeing the mechanic again (That's one of the nice things about this trip: We know a few people now for things we might need. People who have lived in the area for years). That gives us plenty of time, since they'll probably stop in Baker on the way back, and then through Victorville. They couldn't go back yesterday since it was close to the evening, and Dad doesn't drive at night anymore. Not great distances, anyway.
I've enjoyed these ten days, the reading I've done, the time spent watching the ice skaters and hockey players at Valencia Ice Station, and the arcade there; the thoughtful walks past the houses of Creekside Valencia, admiring the cookie-cutter patterns (though there is a feeling of home with a few of those balconies and porches), walking the paseo--probably for the last time--that I used to walk when we lived in Valencia, lunch at Five Guys Burgers and Fries, dessert at Menchie's, being awe-inspired by the passion for makeup among the employees at Sephora (and the raw charisma of many of them), and also just walking through a mall that hasn't quite been mine since Waldenbooks closed, but now truly belongs to others. I'm not really a mallrat, but I do love walking through them occasionally, and the malls to be found in Southern Nevada will keep me plenty interested, including that Henderson library branch inside the Henderson Galleria. You cannot find that anywhere else.
If these past few days have turned out to be a farewell to this valley, as I hope they will be, then it was a proper farewell at exactly the right time. I do not feel animosity toward this valley, even with all the frustrations personal and otherwise that I have experienced, but I know that no longer does any part of this valley interest me. Not that much of it did after we moved from the apartment in Valencia to the one in Saugus after that first year, but the views to be seen from the paseo, from the overpass crossing onto the paseo, do not at all compare to the views that can be found in Las Vegas. Finally, I know where I belong, and I intend to get there. This valley belongs to others. I'm going home.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
The Run of the House: Day 8
If today is the day that Mom and Dad come home, I'm going to miss the free time I used to have. Not only do I have to dump the books and DVDs I absolutely do not need, but every other space of this apartment needs to be just as clean, other things dumped (including old newspaper clippings with my byline that I don't need), loose drawers and cracks fixed, and this apartment sold by the time we leave for Henderson as residents in August. We bought it outright, so we're hoping to get a good price.
I know, I know, the real estate market is in the crapper and it could be a bad time to sell. But there is a chance. We have one of the few units per block with a garage that opens into the apartment. You roll in during the rare times it rains and you don't have to lug your groceries in through the front door, getting soaked. Just close the garage door and rain be gone and you be dry! Secondly, we have a large patio because we overlook one of the community pools. We're the only unit in this particular block that has that. Plus, we have a gate at the front-door walkway. Big white gate with a lock. No other unit here has that. We've got some advantages.
Yesterday was Mom and Dad's 29th wedding anniversary, so they spent part of it back at our future apartment complex, faxing applications for Meridith and I to fill out, with speakerphone guidance by Mom on what parts to fill out. We didn't need to fill out everything since we're all still going to live together, at least for right now.
Later in the day, into the evening, they went to the Bellagio to see the water show outside the hotel, then had gelato at Cafe Gelato there, and then to Blueberry Hill off the Strip for a snack. I think this was one of the better wedding anniversaries they have, not only because they've been where they had never been before, but because it seems like there was a real sense of celebration to it. That has not always been apparent in past years.
As for Meridith and I, she spent the entire day on her laptop transferring photos from her cell phone to her computer. The phone's memory card is too small for any slot on her laptop and so the process is taking a lot longer than it would with an external drive with that capacity. I think she still has more to do today.
I spent part of yesterday morning blog surfing as I always do, as I will do after this. And that was pretty much the major part of yesterday. Not much reading but I think I'll finish Rick Lax's book today.
I know, I know, the real estate market is in the crapper and it could be a bad time to sell. But there is a chance. We have one of the few units per block with a garage that opens into the apartment. You roll in during the rare times it rains and you don't have to lug your groceries in through the front door, getting soaked. Just close the garage door and rain be gone and you be dry! Secondly, we have a large patio because we overlook one of the community pools. We're the only unit in this particular block that has that. Plus, we have a gate at the front-door walkway. Big white gate with a lock. No other unit here has that. We've got some advantages.
Yesterday was Mom and Dad's 29th wedding anniversary, so they spent part of it back at our future apartment complex, faxing applications for Meridith and I to fill out, with speakerphone guidance by Mom on what parts to fill out. We didn't need to fill out everything since we're all still going to live together, at least for right now.
Later in the day, into the evening, they went to the Bellagio to see the water show outside the hotel, then had gelato at Cafe Gelato there, and then to Blueberry Hill off the Strip for a snack. I think this was one of the better wedding anniversaries they have, not only because they've been where they had never been before, but because it seems like there was a real sense of celebration to it. That has not always been apparent in past years.
As for Meridith and I, she spent the entire day on her laptop transferring photos from her cell phone to her computer. The phone's memory card is too small for any slot on her laptop and so the process is taking a lot longer than it would with an external drive with that capacity. I think she still has more to do today.
I spent part of yesterday morning blog surfing as I always do, as I will do after this. And that was pretty much the major part of yesterday. Not much reading but I think I'll finish Rick Lax's book today.
Monday, June 6, 2011
The Run of the House: Day 7
The books have changed.
I decided last night that I wasn't as interested right then in Bottom of the 33rd as I thought. I'm now reading Fool Me Once: Hustlers, Hookers, Headliners, and How Not to Get Swindled in Vegas by Rick Lax, and I'm blasting through it like I've been unjustly starved of books for a year. But then, when you're going to love where you live and you want to know everything about it, more than you know already, lots more, you're going to take to these kinds of books. Actually, that's not entirely true, because Lax is a rare breed. He doesn't resort to catchphrases in writing about Las Vegas or possesses an over-caffeinated mind that's spent too much time on the Strip. That is part of his job as a staff writer at Las Vegas Weekly, but his mind goes beyond the immediate Strip, to the people who live and work in its proximity, to the places you don't see automatically like you do the Luxor pyramid, the faux skyline of New York-New York, the castle spires at Excalibur. In fact, he wrote an article last month about things to see beyond the Strip (http://www.lasvegasweekly.com/news/2011/may/19/welcome-other-strip/). I'm already on page 50. I think I'll be done with this one by mid-afternoon and then crave more, which is why I hope my order from Powell's Books containing four books about Las Vegas, including a collection of columns by Las Vegas Review-Journal writer John L. Smith, arrives today.
The week has changed.
It is Monday yet again, a new week yet again. Meridith finished cleaning the front part of her room yesterday, and you can actually walk through it instead of stepping over what has been sitting on the floor for months and possibly years. I consider it indicative of a new start in our lives, though I still have more to do, as Mom told us last night over the phone that we'd have to move basically bare-bones, since there is not a great deal of room in this new apartment. There's more than we have right now, but to make it comfortable, I'm going to have to dump a lot of books, which I don't have a problem with since 80% of those books aren't in my personal collection. I'll only take those I want to read badly, such as H. Paul Jeffers' biography of Diamond Jim Brady, the rest of the Cornbread Nation anthologies (If I haven't read them yet), all of Tessa Hadley's books, and I'll see what else when I sift through the stacks.
And yet, even in a new week, there are a few things that haven't changed. For one, I talked to Dad about 10 minutes ago and he said they're going to have to stay another day, because the mechanic hasn't fully repaired the car yet. He has the parts, but it's been a waiting game with the warranty company and AAA. I told Dad that I hope he and Mom at least do something special for their 29th wedding anniversary. It's today.
What's most interesting about having the run of the house for an entire week is the cycle of chores. The last of last week's tasks was Meridith cleaning the front part of her room. And now the cycle begins again. I have to gather the garbage pails from each of the rooms to put in the kitchen garbage and take out that bag to the garbage bin in the garage, gather the recyclables, dump those into the recycling bin, and roll both bins out to the curb for pickup tomorrow. Because of Memorial Day last Monday, the bins were picked up on Wednesday, but I still rolled them out that Monday just in case the garbage company still decided to do our route on Tuesday, because even with what they tell you on the phone, you can never be sure.
I know I need a shower, but there's one thing already crossed off the list, since I just shaved. I will never, ever, ever, EVER get used to a beard. I tried it when I was in high school and it didn't work then, doesn't work now. I hate that scratchy feeling as the hairs protrude more. It's more bearable after a shave, because at least that fades.
I was thinking about vacuuming around the birds' cages again and near Kitty's cage, because while we were out on Friday and Saturday, she first ripped the stuffing out of her kennel mat (Friday) and then tore out some of the padding (Saturday). It was difficult for the dogs that Mom and Dad have been gone this long, but they've gotten used to it, though because Kitty had been abandoned in the Alaska cold when she was found, she probably thought we weren't coming back, and it was bad enough that Mom and Dad were away, too. We told her every time that we would be back. And of course we came back. And she acted like she hadn't done anything to her mat and just wanted to have someone throw her tennis ball. An angel again. As to the vacuuming, I'll hold off until Tuesday, because it would be best to have it vacuumed close to when Mom and Dad are supposed to get home.
I don't think the chores will be as heavy this week since they'll need some recovery time after the first week that any of us have spent in Las Vegas. It's been 2-3 days at a shot; never this long. As long as they're sufficiently recovered by Friday, because I need the PT Cruiser trunk to bring the rest of my books back to the library, all 36. It's doubtful that we'll be living here much longer (Therefore making it over 7 and nearly 3/4 years and no more), but god forbid we end up here a little longer, I'm switching my library card and the other library cards over to the Stevenson Ranch Express branch, which is either a bookmobile or a small building, based on what I've heard. I am not signing up for a new card in the new system. I will not support such a disappointing venture.
Anyway, this whole experience reminds me of the second time that Mom and Dad flew to Southern California from South Florida, without us that time. They were there for another 10 days, though as Meridith reminded me, that's all the time they had intended to be there. There were no extensions like there had been now. Yet, on that trip, they had found an apartment that Meridith and I only first saw when we had moved there, and Dad had had a job interview at La Mesa Junior High that turned into a job. Same as now. Well, not the job part yet, but as Dad said on the phone this morning, maybe the charter school will call today, decision made, and ask him to come down to sign the contract. Now wouldn't that be a way to celebrate a wedding anniversary!
I decided last night that I wasn't as interested right then in Bottom of the 33rd as I thought. I'm now reading Fool Me Once: Hustlers, Hookers, Headliners, and How Not to Get Swindled in Vegas by Rick Lax, and I'm blasting through it like I've been unjustly starved of books for a year. But then, when you're going to love where you live and you want to know everything about it, more than you know already, lots more, you're going to take to these kinds of books. Actually, that's not entirely true, because Lax is a rare breed. He doesn't resort to catchphrases in writing about Las Vegas or possesses an over-caffeinated mind that's spent too much time on the Strip. That is part of his job as a staff writer at Las Vegas Weekly, but his mind goes beyond the immediate Strip, to the people who live and work in its proximity, to the places you don't see automatically like you do the Luxor pyramid, the faux skyline of New York-New York, the castle spires at Excalibur. In fact, he wrote an article last month about things to see beyond the Strip (http://www.lasvegasweekly.com/news/2011/may/19/welcome-other-strip/). I'm already on page 50. I think I'll be done with this one by mid-afternoon and then crave more, which is why I hope my order from Powell's Books containing four books about Las Vegas, including a collection of columns by Las Vegas Review-Journal writer John L. Smith, arrives today.
The week has changed.
It is Monday yet again, a new week yet again. Meridith finished cleaning the front part of her room yesterday, and you can actually walk through it instead of stepping over what has been sitting on the floor for months and possibly years. I consider it indicative of a new start in our lives, though I still have more to do, as Mom told us last night over the phone that we'd have to move basically bare-bones, since there is not a great deal of room in this new apartment. There's more than we have right now, but to make it comfortable, I'm going to have to dump a lot of books, which I don't have a problem with since 80% of those books aren't in my personal collection. I'll only take those I want to read badly, such as H. Paul Jeffers' biography of Diamond Jim Brady, the rest of the Cornbread Nation anthologies (If I haven't read them yet), all of Tessa Hadley's books, and I'll see what else when I sift through the stacks.
And yet, even in a new week, there are a few things that haven't changed. For one, I talked to Dad about 10 minutes ago and he said they're going to have to stay another day, because the mechanic hasn't fully repaired the car yet. He has the parts, but it's been a waiting game with the warranty company and AAA. I told Dad that I hope he and Mom at least do something special for their 29th wedding anniversary. It's today.
What's most interesting about having the run of the house for an entire week is the cycle of chores. The last of last week's tasks was Meridith cleaning the front part of her room. And now the cycle begins again. I have to gather the garbage pails from each of the rooms to put in the kitchen garbage and take out that bag to the garbage bin in the garage, gather the recyclables, dump those into the recycling bin, and roll both bins out to the curb for pickup tomorrow. Because of Memorial Day last Monday, the bins were picked up on Wednesday, but I still rolled them out that Monday just in case the garbage company still decided to do our route on Tuesday, because even with what they tell you on the phone, you can never be sure.
I know I need a shower, but there's one thing already crossed off the list, since I just shaved. I will never, ever, ever, EVER get used to a beard. I tried it when I was in high school and it didn't work then, doesn't work now. I hate that scratchy feeling as the hairs protrude more. It's more bearable after a shave, because at least that fades.
I was thinking about vacuuming around the birds' cages again and near Kitty's cage, because while we were out on Friday and Saturday, she first ripped the stuffing out of her kennel mat (Friday) and then tore out some of the padding (Saturday). It was difficult for the dogs that Mom and Dad have been gone this long, but they've gotten used to it, though because Kitty had been abandoned in the Alaska cold when she was found, she probably thought we weren't coming back, and it was bad enough that Mom and Dad were away, too. We told her every time that we would be back. And of course we came back. And she acted like she hadn't done anything to her mat and just wanted to have someone throw her tennis ball. An angel again. As to the vacuuming, I'll hold off until Tuesday, because it would be best to have it vacuumed close to when Mom and Dad are supposed to get home.
I don't think the chores will be as heavy this week since they'll need some recovery time after the first week that any of us have spent in Las Vegas. It's been 2-3 days at a shot; never this long. As long as they're sufficiently recovered by Friday, because I need the PT Cruiser trunk to bring the rest of my books back to the library, all 36. It's doubtful that we'll be living here much longer (Therefore making it over 7 and nearly 3/4 years and no more), but god forbid we end up here a little longer, I'm switching my library card and the other library cards over to the Stevenson Ranch Express branch, which is either a bookmobile or a small building, based on what I've heard. I am not signing up for a new card in the new system. I will not support such a disappointing venture.
Anyway, this whole experience reminds me of the second time that Mom and Dad flew to Southern California from South Florida, without us that time. They were there for another 10 days, though as Meridith reminded me, that's all the time they had intended to be there. There were no extensions like there had been now. Yet, on that trip, they had found an apartment that Meridith and I only first saw when we had moved there, and Dad had had a job interview at La Mesa Junior High that turned into a job. Same as now. Well, not the job part yet, but as Dad said on the phone this morning, maybe the charter school will call today, decision made, and ask him to come down to sign the contract. Now wouldn't that be a way to celebrate a wedding anniversary!
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