Okay, way too much weird shit went down yesterday for any sane person to be awake right now.
First, an inspector came over to check out the condo. I had no idea the buyer was coming, too, and we totally didn't clean up, so I felt super weird about that. I don't care if some strange man sees my vibrator lying around, but I'd really like to maintain the illusion that we're normal people for the girls who will be living here soon. Eh. Apparently we have a gas leak
, our door is not up to fire code, and...well, that was really about it. Something about the back doorjam, but no big deal.
So that took about two hours, and just as it was coming to close I got a call from this woman who was looking at buying my scooter from me. I decided to sell it because I really want/need a bigger bike--you can't go over the Bay Bridge on anything under a 150, and it'll be really nice to be able to carry a passenger. She'd been over on Friday night with a friend of hers, but neither of them knew how to ride, so she was all "Well, it's really cute." So on Saturday she came over with her boyfriend, who has a 2002 Vespa ET2 (which I did not get to see), and I was just all shaking in my boots 'cause I know my bike has some issues; it's had issues from the beginning and none of them are major but every time I bring it into the shop I'm like "this feels wrong" and they say, okay, we'll check it out--and then I'll get it back and either it won't be better or something else will be wrong--so to a certain degree I'm glad to be rid of it. So, yeah, she bought it for the price I was asking, which was nice....I mean, I've still spent like shitloads more money on dealing with scooter irritations in the last year than any reasonable person should have to, but at least I got a little cash out of the deal. But now I am scoterless for at least a few weeks and that is sad
And THEN we were sitting on the couch watching TV and I realized holy fuck! I forgot to register for classes. And having no idea how quickly classes fill up at this school, I panicked, and leapt onto the computer, hit register...only to discover that a) where I thought my registration period started on Friday, it actually started on Thursday AND b) priority registration is only open for 24 hours. Meaning it shut off at 4pm California time on Friday. So, more panic. I call the helpline. The recording gives me some useless information including: I was supposed to receive an email AND a postcard telling me when my registration time was (and presumably clueing me into the fact that I only had a limited amount of time to do it) (I recieved neither) and that, once my 24 hours are up, I need to wait until open registration begins. Well, open registration began on July 18th. So why wasn't it letting me in? Meanwhile, Intro to Lit Theory, which is a prerequisite for all other grad seminars, of which I need three to get my degree and don't really think I want to do more than I per semester, has two slots left. Why won't it let me register? Why? Why????????? Finally, I discover the small print--no one is allowed allowed to register for anything between midnight on Friday and 8am on Sunday. I should be okay, just as long as I'm awake in time on Sunday (thankfully, it'll be 10am our time before it opens up again.)
Seems like enough excitement for one day, huh? And it very well should have been. We went to bed around midnight; it was hot but all was well...until about 3:30 in the morning when I was awakened by a vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrooooomrrrrrrrooooooommmmmrrooooooooommmmmkeeeRASHshatter. I woke up immediately, looked out the window to see two kids--seriously kids---running down the block. Didn't see anything that could have made that noise, though, so I went to the hallway window, all naked and stuff, and saw one of our neighbors in the courtyard on a cell phone and a car with its lights on, half on the strret and half on the grass, smashed into another, parked, car.
Never one to miss out on some good action, I got dressed and went downstairs. Long story short, some kids had been driving (well, "driving") east on our street, which is weird since the car was facing much more west than east, plus we live on a dead end and considering how fast the guy who saw them said they were going, I don't know where they thought they we gonna end up. So anyway, I guess as soon as they crashed they took off running--another weird thing, they left the keys int he car. I mean, when I heard they ran I figured it must have been a stolen car, but I guess it was more of a stolen/borrowed car. Who knows? The car they crashed into belonged to a girl in our building, and looked pretty freakin' totalled, so that SUCKS. I stood out there for awhile, sort of chatting with our neighbors and sort of feeling like I didn't belong, and eventually M came out to see what had happened to me and we both went inside and watched some Sopranos and went back to bed.
Today was considerably nicer. Really, quite a bit nicer. Very chill. It's the boy's birthday. I am a horrible girlfriend and as such had nothing planned, but we managed to make the best of it. After I got my registration all sorted out, we headed up to Evanston. We had coffee and pastries at Peet's, checked out Urban Oufitters. His dad called to wish him a happy birthday while we were there, and he ended up talking to his entire family, so I sat around and read The Strippers' Guide to Looking Good Naked (like I don't already
) while he disappeared to some private corner. Then we bought tickets for March of the Penguins, killed about 20 minutes by walking down to Panera and getting lemonade and an asiago demibaguette, which I proceeded to bring into the theatre even thought *gasp* you're not allowed to do that. The movie was great--if you have the patience for that sort of thing I highly recommend it. Hit up Borders, Comix Revolution and the big B&N but remarkably did not buy a thing. I told M I would get him a birthday present but I think he musta felt guilty cuz money is weird right now. And then we proceeded to spend 70 bucks on sushi and martinis. And it was lovely. And now we are home and I am slightly depressed and can't really but my finger on it, but I think it has to do with reading the journals of people who get to hang out with famous assholes because I want to hang out with famous assholes, too, and getting an email inviting me to a party a certain someone is throwing that I will probably end up going to even thought I know they probably /won't/ come to the party I am throwing. Which incidentally I haven't sent out invitations for yet. Because I am lazy bitch.
That is all.
First, an inspector came over to check out the condo. I had no idea the buyer was coming, too, and we totally didn't clean up, so I felt super weird about that. I don't care if some strange man sees my vibrator lying around, but I'd really like to maintain the illusion that we're normal people for the girls who will be living here soon. Eh. Apparently we have a gas leak
, our door is not up to fire code, and...well, that was really about it. Something about the back doorjam, but no big deal.
So that took about two hours, and just as it was coming to close I got a call from this woman who was looking at buying my scooter from me. I decided to sell it because I really want/need a bigger bike--you can't go over the Bay Bridge on anything under a 150, and it'll be really nice to be able to carry a passenger. She'd been over on Friday night with a friend of hers, but neither of them knew how to ride, so she was all "Well, it's really cute." So on Saturday she came over with her boyfriend, who has a 2002 Vespa ET2 (which I did not get to see), and I was just all shaking in my boots 'cause I know my bike has some issues; it's had issues from the beginning and none of them are major but every time I bring it into the shop I'm like "this feels wrong" and they say, okay, we'll check it out--and then I'll get it back and either it won't be better or something else will be wrong--so to a certain degree I'm glad to be rid of it. So, yeah, she bought it for the price I was asking, which was nice....I mean, I've still spent like shitloads more money on dealing with scooter irritations in the last year than any reasonable person should have to, but at least I got a little cash out of the deal. But now I am scoterless for at least a few weeks and that is sad
And THEN we were sitting on the couch watching TV and I realized holy fuck! I forgot to register for classes. And having no idea how quickly classes fill up at this school, I panicked, and leapt onto the computer, hit register...only to discover that a) where I thought my registration period started on Friday, it actually started on Thursday AND b) priority registration is only open for 24 hours. Meaning it shut off at 4pm California time on Friday. So, more panic. I call the helpline. The recording gives me some useless information including: I was supposed to receive an email AND a postcard telling me when my registration time was (and presumably clueing me into the fact that I only had a limited amount of time to do it) (I recieved neither) and that, once my 24 hours are up, I need to wait until open registration begins. Well, open registration began on July 18th. So why wasn't it letting me in? Meanwhile, Intro to Lit Theory, which is a prerequisite for all other grad seminars, of which I need three to get my degree and don't really think I want to do more than I per semester, has two slots left. Why won't it let me register? Why? Why????????? Finally, I discover the small print--no one is allowed allowed to register for anything between midnight on Friday and 8am on Sunday. I should be okay, just as long as I'm awake in time on Sunday (thankfully, it'll be 10am our time before it opens up again.)
Seems like enough excitement for one day, huh? And it very well should have been. We went to bed around midnight; it was hot but all was well...until about 3:30 in the morning when I was awakened by a vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrooooomrrrrrrrooooooommmmmrrooooooooommmmmkeeeRASHshatter. I woke up immediately, looked out the window to see two kids--seriously kids---running down the block. Didn't see anything that could have made that noise, though, so I went to the hallway window, all naked and stuff, and saw one of our neighbors in the courtyard on a cell phone and a car with its lights on, half on the strret and half on the grass, smashed into another, parked, car.
Never one to miss out on some good action, I got dressed and went downstairs. Long story short, some kids had been driving (well, "driving") east on our street, which is weird since the car was facing much more west than east, plus we live on a dead end and considering how fast the guy who saw them said they were going, I don't know where they thought they we gonna end up. So anyway, I guess as soon as they crashed they took off running--another weird thing, they left the keys int he car. I mean, when I heard they ran I figured it must have been a stolen car, but I guess it was more of a stolen/borrowed car. Who knows? The car they crashed into belonged to a girl in our building, and looked pretty freakin' totalled, so that SUCKS. I stood out there for awhile, sort of chatting with our neighbors and sort of feeling like I didn't belong, and eventually M came out to see what had happened to me and we both went inside and watched some Sopranos and went back to bed.
Today was considerably nicer. Really, quite a bit nicer. Very chill. It's the boy's birthday. I am a horrible girlfriend and as such had nothing planned, but we managed to make the best of it. After I got my registration all sorted out, we headed up to Evanston. We had coffee and pastries at Peet's, checked out Urban Oufitters. His dad called to wish him a happy birthday while we were there, and he ended up talking to his entire family, so I sat around and read The Strippers' Guide to Looking Good Naked (like I don't already
) while he disappeared to some private corner. Then we bought tickets for March of the Penguins, killed about 20 minutes by walking down to Panera and getting lemonade and an asiago demibaguette, which I proceeded to bring into the theatre even thought *gasp* you're not allowed to do that. The movie was great--if you have the patience for that sort of thing I highly recommend it. Hit up Borders, Comix Revolution and the big B&N but remarkably did not buy a thing. I told M I would get him a birthday present but I think he musta felt guilty cuz money is weird right now. And then we proceeded to spend 70 bucks on sushi and martinis. And it was lovely. And now we are home and I am slightly depressed and can't really but my finger on it, but I think it has to do with reading the journals of people who get to hang out with famous assholes because I want to hang out with famous assholes, too, and getting an email inviting me to a party a certain someone is throwing that I will probably end up going to even thought I know they probably /won't/ come to the party I am throwing. Which incidentally I haven't sent out invitations for yet. Because I am lazy bitch.
That is all.
VIEW 19 of 19 COMMENTS
So, uh, yeah I'm interested in a painting. I don't have a lot of money though... I am curious how big they are. So the ones I was thinking were #1, Petals; #13 Blue Door; or #33 Brown Still Life...
i am in NY