Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Monday, July 12, 2010
On The Road Again
Actually, I just returned. Was visiting family and friends back in Buffalo and the surrounding Indian-inspired named towns. I have plenty of stories to blog about and will get to it ASAP, but for now the fridge is empty and I need to hug and kiss my dog.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Appetite For Destruction
Yesterday I had an hour before work due to an error in my call time. This is a dangerous thing, what with the hotel I normally work at being right next to a shopping mall. But I already had a mission, so there would be no wandering around the mall aimlessly buying crap I didn't need.
I had to buy a new comforter for my bed. Actually, I had to replace the new comforter for my bed that I bought sometime before Thanksgiving. That was when Macy's was having a sale and I found an entire "bed ensemble" for 1/2 off. Before I bought it, I decided to once and for all look up all the words that I have been reading in all the ads for bedding. I have a confession to make. With all my worldly sophistication, my po' white trash roots show when it comes to bedding. Growing up, we had a fitted sheet, a sheet, a pillow (singular) with pillow case and blankets for the cold. We usually all had homemade afghans that my mom knitted. I liked to keep one folded at the foot of my bed for extra feet warmth.
So up until a few months ago, I actually had no idea what a duvet, a duvet cover, a pillow sham, a bedskirt, a dust ruffle or a coverlet actually was. Now I know, but I'll be surprised if I ever actually buy and use one. But as I said, I did buy a sheet set with a comforter, and I confess that it came with pillow shams, but they are still in the original plastic on a shelf in my closet. The set wasn't terribly expensive, the thread count wasn't particularly high, but the bedding all matched and it was a deep burgundy and gold which I love for bedding.
Unfortunately, here's what the comforter looked like shortly after Christmas:
Near as I can figure, Riley had a bone or a stick hidden in the bed, and when he decided to retrieve it he found it right in the middle of the bed, albeit covered up. I am willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he attempted to move the obstruction. But since his only interest ultimately was to get whatever was buried there, chewing a hole seemed like a very efficient, not to mention dog-like, thing to do. Rendering my new matching bedding no longer new, and decidedly less matching.
To further illustrate the power of his lust for ripping and rending, here's a picture I snapped of the aftermath a 1/2 hour after I presented him with a Christmas squeaky toy:
As you can see, there is nothing left but toy innards and bits of felt. And the squeaker, which near as I can tell must be single-mindedly located and eradicated as fast as possible, sits deflated and discarded next to his paw, never to vex another dog with that infernal squeaking.
I had to buy a new comforter for my bed. Actually, I had to replace the new comforter for my bed that I bought sometime before Thanksgiving. That was when Macy's was having a sale and I found an entire "bed ensemble" for 1/2 off. Before I bought it, I decided to once and for all look up all the words that I have been reading in all the ads for bedding. I have a confession to make. With all my worldly sophistication, my po' white trash roots show when it comes to bedding. Growing up, we had a fitted sheet, a sheet, a pillow (singular) with pillow case and blankets for the cold. We usually all had homemade afghans that my mom knitted. I liked to keep one folded at the foot of my bed for extra feet warmth.
So up until a few months ago, I actually had no idea what a duvet, a duvet cover, a pillow sham, a bedskirt, a dust ruffle or a coverlet actually was. Now I know, but I'll be surprised if I ever actually buy and use one. But as I said, I did buy a sheet set with a comforter, and I confess that it came with pillow shams, but they are still in the original plastic on a shelf in my closet. The set wasn't terribly expensive, the thread count wasn't particularly high, but the bedding all matched and it was a deep burgundy and gold which I love for bedding.
Unfortunately, here's what the comforter looked like shortly after Christmas:
Near as I can figure, Riley had a bone or a stick hidden in the bed, and when he decided to retrieve it he found it right in the middle of the bed, albeit covered up. I am willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he attempted to move the obstruction. But since his only interest ultimately was to get whatever was buried there, chewing a hole seemed like a very efficient, not to mention dog-like, thing to do. Rendering my new matching bedding no longer new, and decidedly less matching.
To further illustrate the power of his lust for ripping and rending, here's a picture I snapped of the aftermath a 1/2 hour after I presented him with a Christmas squeaky toy:
As you can see, there is nothing left but toy innards and bits of felt. And the squeaker, which near as I can tell must be single-mindedly located and eradicated as fast as possible, sits deflated and discarded next to his paw, never to vex another dog with that infernal squeaking.
Sunday, October 04, 2009
Now In HD
So I bought a new 32" HDTV.
And I managed to bring it home under the $500 limit that my dad's gambling largess would allow. I did let the salesperson move me off of the model I had picked out to another brand that was $50 more, with the promise of a higher contrast ratio. I have no actual idea if this is really that important, nor if it was verifiably true. But I repeatedly refused his multiple offers to sign me up for "insurance", and while I found it amusing, had he asked me again or tried a harder sell I would have crossed over in to annoyed.
What was annoying was when he repeatedly tried to sell me an HDMI cable. Now to tell the truth, I had no idea what kind of cable connections it would take to hook up my system, although I was aware I might have to buy something to make the system work. But I've done enough research and bought enough new tech to know not to buy the extra "junk" the salesman is trying to push on you because you may not need it, and you can probably get it cheaper elsewhere. HDMI cable runs in price at the store I was at from $40 to $200. Do you want to bet he wouldn't have shown me the $40 package?
When I got home and hooked the TV up, it became clear that my digital cable box would need to be switched for an HD DVR, as the picture was just a standard square display and nothing special. The next morning I had an hour to run out to Time-Warner and get the new box. Whereupon they handed me the FREE HDMI cable that the salesperson at the TV store tried to get me to buy. And considering he knew that I was a Time-Warner customer I would have to say he was trying to sell me crap I didn't need.
In any case, after I hooked up the Hi-Def cable the screen displayed at the full 31.5" and HUZZAH!, angels began to sing as glorious big-screen (for me) TV began to air throughout the land. Or my living room. I wept a little as I had leave for work when all I wanted to do was fiddle with the color settings and watch a movie.
But here's the thing about this whole TV upgrade. I am excited about the new TV and very thankful that mom and dad were generous with their windfall to make it happen. But I also took the opportunity, as long as I was running cables and moving furniture, to re-arrange the living room and run all the cables from my desktop in the bedroom, along the baseboards and behind all the furniture in the living room. Then I clipped them up with cord clasps, and wired them all together with Velcro twist ties. And as much as I am enjoying my new TV and my HD DVR, the highlight of the whole operation was the fact that all my cords are now running out of sight, all together along the baseboards, and I managed to reclaim about 2 feet of living room space in the process. I also swept up about a pound of dog hair.
And that's probably all you need to know about the real me.
And I managed to bring it home under the $500 limit that my dad's gambling largess would allow. I did let the salesperson move me off of the model I had picked out to another brand that was $50 more, with the promise of a higher contrast ratio. I have no actual idea if this is really that important, nor if it was verifiably true. But I repeatedly refused his multiple offers to sign me up for "insurance", and while I found it amusing, had he asked me again or tried a harder sell I would have crossed over in to annoyed.
What was annoying was when he repeatedly tried to sell me an HDMI cable. Now to tell the truth, I had no idea what kind of cable connections it would take to hook up my system, although I was aware I might have to buy something to make the system work. But I've done enough research and bought enough new tech to know not to buy the extra "junk" the salesman is trying to push on you because you may not need it, and you can probably get it cheaper elsewhere. HDMI cable runs in price at the store I was at from $40 to $200. Do you want to bet he wouldn't have shown me the $40 package?
When I got home and hooked the TV up, it became clear that my digital cable box would need to be switched for an HD DVR, as the picture was just a standard square display and nothing special. The next morning I had an hour to run out to Time-Warner and get the new box. Whereupon they handed me the FREE HDMI cable that the salesperson at the TV store tried to get me to buy. And considering he knew that I was a Time-Warner customer I would have to say he was trying to sell me crap I didn't need.
In any case, after I hooked up the Hi-Def cable the screen displayed at the full 31.5" and HUZZAH!, angels began to sing as glorious big-screen (for me) TV began to air throughout the land. Or my living room. I wept a little as I had leave for work when all I wanted to do was fiddle with the color settings and watch a movie.
But here's the thing about this whole TV upgrade. I am excited about the new TV and very thankful that mom and dad were generous with their windfall to make it happen. But I also took the opportunity, as long as I was running cables and moving furniture, to re-arrange the living room and run all the cables from my desktop in the bedroom, along the baseboards and behind all the furniture in the living room. Then I clipped them up with cord clasps, and wired them all together with Velcro twist ties. And as much as I am enjoying my new TV and my HD DVR, the highlight of the whole operation was the fact that all my cords are now running out of sight, all together along the baseboards, and I managed to reclaim about 2 feet of living room space in the process. I also swept up about a pound of dog hair.
And that's probably all you need to know about the real me.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Stop, Hey What's That Sound
I've been in bed the last three or four nights by midnight as I have had to get up by 6:45 every morning to make it out to New Jersey and the shuttle transportation to the golf tournament. In case you were wondering, I'm bar tending this week at Liberty National Golf Club. It's the site this year for The Barclays, a major stop on the PGA Tour and part of the FED-EX Playoffs. The winner of the playoffs pockets 10 million dollars.
I hope you are suitably impressed, because I'm bored to death. "Bar tending" the last two days has basically meant that I stand behind a great looking bar with a spectacular view of the course and open up cans of Diet Coke and Nestea Iced Tea, as well as dole out endless amounts of bottled water. My "bar" is just a service area for the players dining room and as such no beer, wine or alcohol is offered. Today I opened up cans of soft drinks and served out water for 7 hours. I do have two televisions (tuned to the Golf Channel) and I have several security personnel and the occasional Jersey City Police officer to chat with, but it is punishing on my feet and knees to stand there doing next to nothing and it's also mind-numbingly soul-crushingly BORING.I'm not sure I will make it two more days, even though I need the money.
Anyway, I started to tell you about my being asleep early. It is screwing with my body clock a bit, which is why I woke up this morning around 4:40 needing to turn on the A/C and also to take a middle of the night pee. As I stood in the bathroom lights out, door open, hand braced against the wall, I heard a sound not usually associated with my home, and certainly not a sound I have heard recently even through one of the neighboring walls. It was the unmistakable moaning of a young lady having sex. In my apartment. A girl! Having opposite sex! I KNOW!!
First of all, lucky bitch! Second, I found it ridiculously funny. Something about the sex noises a girl makes, as opposed to a guy, which I find totally hot. And of course I listened briefly for some guy sex noises, since the guy in question is the 22 year old student/model in the room next to mine. But I didn't hear any masculine grunting, nor the telltale squeak of bed springs, so I am assuming there was some sort of manual or oral pleasuring going on. All of this information is speculation that took place over about 30 seconds, as it occurred to me that standing around a dark apartment in the middle of the night listening in as your 22-year-old hetero roommate goes down on his date would be slightly pervy. Even for me.
But I did find myself a couple of times today daydreaming about the size of his cock. Only because I had nothing else to do.
I hope you are suitably impressed, because I'm bored to death. "Bar tending" the last two days has basically meant that I stand behind a great looking bar with a spectacular view of the course and open up cans of Diet Coke and Nestea Iced Tea, as well as dole out endless amounts of bottled water. My "bar" is just a service area for the players dining room and as such no beer, wine or alcohol is offered. Today I opened up cans of soft drinks and served out water for 7 hours. I do have two televisions (tuned to the Golf Channel) and I have several security personnel and the occasional Jersey City Police officer to chat with, but it is punishing on my feet and knees to stand there doing next to nothing and it's also mind-numbingly soul-crushingly BORING.I'm not sure I will make it two more days, even though I need the money.
Anyway, I started to tell you about my being asleep early. It is screwing with my body clock a bit, which is why I woke up this morning around 4:40 needing to turn on the A/C and also to take a middle of the night pee. As I stood in the bathroom lights out, door open, hand braced against the wall, I heard a sound not usually associated with my home, and certainly not a sound I have heard recently even through one of the neighboring walls. It was the unmistakable moaning of a young lady having sex. In my apartment. A girl! Having opposite sex! I KNOW!!
First of all, lucky bitch! Second, I found it ridiculously funny. Something about the sex noises a girl makes, as opposed to a guy, which I find totally hot. And of course I listened briefly for some guy sex noises, since the guy in question is the 22 year old student/model in the room next to mine. But I didn't hear any masculine grunting, nor the telltale squeak of bed springs, so I am assuming there was some sort of manual or oral pleasuring going on. All of this information is speculation that took place over about 30 seconds, as it occurred to me that standing around a dark apartment in the middle of the night listening in as your 22-year-old hetero roommate goes down on his date would be slightly pervy. Even for me.
But I did find myself a couple of times today daydreaming about the size of his cock. Only because I had nothing else to do.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
I Pollinated, Therefore I Am
Thanks to a hot tip from commenter Stephanie I discovered that tomato plants, while technically self-pollinating, are in reality, not so much. Apparently, the decided lack of bees inside my apartment means that the chances that any of the flowers that I've seen blossom on my tomato plant turning in to actual, edible tomatoes were slim at best. The single tomato I did manage to grow was more a happy accident, a triumph of nature if you will. However, in my (admittedly quick) research in to pollinating tomato plants (since I'm not a bee), I discovered a video that seems to recommend a simple if vigorous shake will do the trick. Failing that they recommend the annoying high school throwback finger-flick of the flowering bud as being equally effective. I gleefully spent a couple seconds this afternoon flick-flicking the one or two buds that are currently on the plant. I felt ridiculous and surprisingly a little dirty but if it works ...
My favorite A&E show, Intervention, just re-ran the episode that is right up there with my all-time favorite. While I used to think that no one could hold a candle to meth addict alcoholic Cristy from a couple of seasons back, I have fallen pretty hard for compressed air inhaling Allison from last year. Allison was a pre-med student that was in danger of permanently absolutely BAKING her brain with the chemicals in cans of computer duster. She crazily huffed up to 10 cans a day and then spent the bulk of the episode staring cross-eyed into the camera mourning her "painful" over-privileged childhood. Someone thoughtfully created a video. -via World of Wonder
My favorite A&E show, Intervention, just re-ran the episode that is right up there with my all-time favorite. While I used to think that no one could hold a candle to meth addict alcoholic Cristy from a couple of seasons back, I have fallen pretty hard for compressed air inhaling Allison from last year. Allison was a pre-med student that was in danger of permanently absolutely BAKING her brain with the chemicals in cans of computer duster. She crazily huffed up to 10 cans a day and then spent the bulk of the episode staring cross-eyed into the camera mourning her "painful" over-privileged childhood. Someone thoughtfully created a video. -via World of Wonder
Monday, July 20, 2009
Here and There
I had to show you what is going on in my kitchen "farm". The potted tomato plant that I bought a couple of months ago has grown like crazy. The plant itself is as big or bigger than many I've seen in a lot of gardens. I couldn't even get the height all captured in this snapshot. Remarkably, for such an enormous plant, It's only sprouted that one tiny tomato. It is ripe and ready for pickin' but it is only about the size of a golf ball. Somewhere between a cherry tomato and a Roma. And there are no other tomatoes anywhere on the plant. How hysterical will it be if I manage to grow a giant indoor tomato plant but only get that one single tomato all season?
I've been spending parts of my sunny afternoons hanging out on the Christopher St. Piers. It's a nice bike ride over there from the East side, and of course, the eye candy is top notch on any given day. This weekend it was absolutely packed with boys (and girls, and trannies) getting some vitamin D. I usually arrive around 2:30 or 3:00 and stay an hour and a half at most. Just enough time to catch a cat nap and lust after guys I'm too old for. I snapped this picture yesterday, to give you a sense of the huge crowd, but it made me a little nostalgic for the old pier.
When I first moved to NYC the Christopher St. Pier was still in a horrible state of decay. The end of it, deemed unsafe, was blocked off with fence and concrete barricades. Many gay men simply pried open the fence and hopped the barricades to claim a section of tar beach that faced an equally run-down Jersey City. While it was certainly not official policy, the end of the pier was clothing optional. I never dared to bare all at the time, but I would frequently simply show up and strip off whatever I was wearing down to my underwear. It felt modest compared to the avowed nudists who were always nearby. Occasionally, you'd encounter someone that would take advantage of the (relative) privacy to lazily spend the afternoon masturbating as the boats sailed by. I was never sure if it was self-gratification or advertising. Probably both.
And while I'm not one of those cranky middle-aged queens that constantly longs to recapture the days gone by and rail against (unavoidable) progress, I do on occasion miss that broken down, graffiti covered oasis of neglect. Like my lost (and wasted) youth, never to return, and probably best forgotten.
Friday, June 19, 2009
A Tomato Grows In Gramercy
Got home after midnight a couple of days ago and glanced over to marvel at how big my experimental tomato plant in a pot by the windowsill was faring. It seemingly grows by leaps at a time as it was noticeably bigger still.It was then that I was startled to spot this little baby tomato that had sprouted almost over night. So it appears that you can indeed grow a tomato plant on your windowsill in the middle of New York City.
If Riley climbs up to chew this beauty off he is one dead dog.
Friday, April 03, 2009
On the Mend
Yesterday was decidedly low energy although I did manage to get Riley walked and took him to a dog run in the evening. Only I just sat on a bench and let him amuse himself. I also made a Gay-A meeting but that doesn't take up more energy than sitting on an uncomfortable chair for an hour. I was queasy all day off an on, but by the afternoon I could get out of the bathroom for more than an hour at a time so things are looking up! Today I woke up after 8 hours of glorious uninterrupted sleep and since it was raining out I rolled over for another hour to doze. Now I'm absolutely ravenous and I will be walking the pup, and then loading up the fridge with some groceries after a nice big breakfast.
I thought I would post some pictures of the plants I'm growing in the windows here in my Castle High Atop Second Avenue. Only because at some point, many of them will mysteriously start to die off. I try to buy the right plants for the right light and heat conditions in the apartment, but eventually, one or two here or there starts to wither and fail.
Here are the plants in my kitchen window. It has a commanding view of the alley between buildings but the building next door is low enough that we get hours of morning sun through it.
And here are the gang green right next to my bed by the window on to Second Avenue. I know the one on the left looks kind of spindly but that because Riley partially ate it. He has since given it a reprieve and down at the soil level there's a big mass of growth bursting back up.
How'd that get in there? Here's the plant destroyer himself. He's holding the remnants of a stuffed lion I gave him a few months ago. There is no stuffing left and his head is missing as is one leg but as you can see, he still manages to find something enjoyable about it.
That's all for today. Need some food in my belly.
I thought I would post some pictures of the plants I'm growing in the windows here in my Castle High Atop Second Avenue. Only because at some point, many of them will mysteriously start to die off. I try to buy the right plants for the right light and heat conditions in the apartment, but eventually, one or two here or there starts to wither and fail.
Here are the plants in my kitchen window. It has a commanding view of the alley between buildings but the building next door is low enough that we get hours of morning sun through it.
And here are the gang green right next to my bed by the window on to Second Avenue. I know the one on the left looks kind of spindly but that because Riley partially ate it. He has since given it a reprieve and down at the soil level there's a big mass of growth bursting back up.
How'd that get in there? Here's the plant destroyer himself. He's holding the remnants of a stuffed lion I gave him a few months ago. There is no stuffing left and his head is missing as is one leg but as you can see, he still manages to find something enjoyable about it.
That's all for today. Need some food in my belly.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Caught A Bug
Got a really bad stomach ache and cramps last night, at first I thought maybe I had witnessed a particularly heinous American Idol performance, but after confirming that the tattooed blond chick was only headache and not nausea inducing, I realized I might be coming down with something. Much queasiness developed as did the chills. As the cramping got worse I took to bed, only to have Riley pester me letting me know he was ready to go out. Repeated face-licking was pushed aside until I managed to rally enough to get him downstairs. It was quick, and then the trip back up 5 flights almost made me faint. After several trips to the toilet *ahem* (Hey! Two poop posts back to back), I finally put an episode of Intervention on the PC and and curled up under the covers. I dozed fitfully, trying to find a comfortable, non-crampy position.
Around 5am I took another trip to the toilet and had just returned to bed when my stomach finally gave up the ghost and let me know I was T-Minus 5 seconds to purge. I flew out of bed and assumed the position. Riley stood right behind me and I swear he offered to hold back my hair. After, I was spent but felt worlds better. Dozed off and on the rest of the morning, multiple trips to the bathroom notwithstanding, and finally passed out for good this morning around 9:30. I only got up around 12:30 because Riley needed a walk and I felt well enough to run down to the drugstore for some Pepto.
So far today I've only had peppermint tea and have felt alternately sleepy and a bit queasy all day. But I am hungry, so I guess I'm on the mend.
One of my roommates moved out today, and she will be replaced next week by a 19 year old ballet dancer, in town for rehearsals for a month. The search is on for a more permanent-(ish) roommate to take the space in May. I believe I've figured out how to keep myself financially afloat for another couple of months, but if I don't get work by then, I'll have bigger problems then a night on the toilet to contend with.
Around 5am I took another trip to the toilet and had just returned to bed when my stomach finally gave up the ghost and let me know I was T-Minus 5 seconds to purge. I flew out of bed and assumed the position. Riley stood right behind me and I swear he offered to hold back my hair. After, I was spent but felt worlds better. Dozed off and on the rest of the morning, multiple trips to the bathroom notwithstanding, and finally passed out for good this morning around 9:30. I only got up around 12:30 because Riley needed a walk and I felt well enough to run down to the drugstore for some Pepto.
So far today I've only had peppermint tea and have felt alternately sleepy and a bit queasy all day. But I am hungry, so I guess I'm on the mend.
One of my roommates moved out today, and she will be replaced next week by a 19 year old ballet dancer, in town for rehearsals for a month. The search is on for a more permanent-(ish) roommate to take the space in May. I believe I've figured out how to keep myself financially afloat for another couple of months, but if I don't get work by then, I'll have bigger problems then a night on the toilet to contend with.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
This N That
Just got back from a walk with Riley and noticed that the daffodils have begun to break out from their nap. No actual flowers but the plants seemingly burst out over night. This makes me quite happy.
I spent part of the weekend cleaning the apartment. One room a day got a thorough scrubbing. Furniture moved, floors swept and mopped, appliances wiped down. My bedroom was particularly grubby. I suppose because it's pretty much a no man's land, meaning no man has been in there in well over a year.
Haven't heard anything regarding the two good interviews I had last week, but I wasn't expecting to until at least today. I'm waiting on a phone call from some recruiter I sent my info to that contacted me this morning. I swear, if it's for a management job at that damn Bubba Gump's again I may hurt someone. They've already contacted me twice and then turned me down both times. I don't want to be one of 83 managers it seems to take to run a restaurant, and I don't want to sell your damn scrimps.
Of course, since I have no sex, no life, and no sex life, I watched Dancing With The Stars as they kicked off a new season last night. My reactions:
Poor Woz.
And say goodbye to the rodeo cowboy. While a case could be made that the "Teletubby gone mad" was equally inept, the legions of Mac Heads will save their god at least for the first week, meaning Ty Murray will be the first to go. And Li'l Kim giving a shout out to the friends she made in prison was classic.
I spent part of the weekend cleaning the apartment. One room a day got a thorough scrubbing. Furniture moved, floors swept and mopped, appliances wiped down. My bedroom was particularly grubby. I suppose because it's pretty much a no man's land, meaning no man has been in there in well over a year.
Haven't heard anything regarding the two good interviews I had last week, but I wasn't expecting to until at least today. I'm waiting on a phone call from some recruiter I sent my info to that contacted me this morning. I swear, if it's for a management job at that damn Bubba Gump's again I may hurt someone. They've already contacted me twice and then turned me down both times. I don't want to be one of 83 managers it seems to take to run a restaurant, and I don't want to sell your damn scrimps.
Of course, since I have no sex, no life, and no sex life, I watched Dancing With The Stars as they kicked off a new season last night. My reactions:
Poor Woz.
And say goodbye to the rodeo cowboy. While a case could be made that the "Teletubby gone mad" was equally inept, the legions of Mac Heads will save their god at least for the first week, meaning Ty Murray will be the first to go. And Li'l Kim giving a shout out to the friends she made in prison was classic.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Time To Purge
I'm relieved to report I finally found not one, but two suitable roommates. I've also made myself a minority in my own home, as I will be living with heterosexuals. Which, quite frankly I don't really mind at all. Some of my worst roommate situations and relationships have been with gay men. That's not meant to be a blanket criticism that gay men are all fucked up and high-maintenance. That may in fact be true, or it may just be true about me. I am more than willing to, in retrospect, acknowledge that some of my previous problems in living with gay men could have come from my alcoholism as well as the fact that I can be fucked up and high-maintenance on occasion.
And also that they were assholes.
So both roommates will be moving in next week sometime between Christmas and New Years, and while one of the bedrooms is completely empty and ready for move in, the other is full of my spillover clothes, blankets, Christmas decoration boxes and unsold comic books. All of which will have to be condensed back in to my bedroom or the storage shelves in the kitchen. So I'll be spending all of this week evaluating, sorting and throwing out all of my "stuff". Clothes I haven't worn, magazines articles I was saving to write stories about, books I have no intention of re-reading, all of it is potential landfill.
Plus the kitchen needs to be scrubbed from top to bottom, and now is as good a time as any. I have no plans to look for work this week as nobody worth worrying about hires during Christmas week.
Three people in this apartment (plus a dog) will feel very crowded if I don't make lots of room. But at least my housing worries are over now as my unemployment will more than cover my bills with everything split three ways. Now if I could only sell off that comic book collection I will kill two birds (space and money) with one stone.
And also that they were assholes.
So both roommates will be moving in next week sometime between Christmas and New Years, and while one of the bedrooms is completely empty and ready for move in, the other is full of my spillover clothes, blankets, Christmas decoration boxes and unsold comic books. All of which will have to be condensed back in to my bedroom or the storage shelves in the kitchen. So I'll be spending all of this week evaluating, sorting and throwing out all of my "stuff". Clothes I haven't worn, magazines articles I was saving to write stories about, books I have no intention of re-reading, all of it is potential landfill.
Plus the kitchen needs to be scrubbed from top to bottom, and now is as good a time as any. I have no plans to look for work this week as nobody worth worrying about hires during Christmas week.
Three people in this apartment (plus a dog) will feel very crowded if I don't make lots of room. But at least my housing worries are over now as my unemployment will more than cover my bills with everything split three ways. Now if I could only sell off that comic book collection I will kill two birds (space and money) with one stone.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
I'll Show You Mine, If ...
It looks a little thinner in this picture than it actually is. While it's not all "girthy", it's a tad more thick than it appears here. It's got those big balls at the bottom, which I purchased at a discount just this week. It's got bells but no tinsel, and birds have made their home in it. As you can see, Santa is both a top and a bottom. As it should be.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Long Day ...
Hit the ground running today. Took the dog to the store on his morning walk. Picked up the fixin's for a lasagna and spent the afternoon cooking. Went to a class I've been taking, the details of which I am almost ready to share with you all. You may or may not be surprised, depending on how well you read between the lines. After that I immediately went to a pot luck holiday party with all the SIN peeps. It was one of the better parties I've been to in a long, long time. I will have those details as well as some pictures tomorrow. Right now I'm kind of tuckered out.
Also tomorrow, I have a few appointments lined up to show the apartment. Hopefully, I will find a decent roommate or two and this will be over with. It's very draining and I just want it resolved.
Also tomorrow, I have a few appointments lined up to show the apartment. Hopefully, I will find a decent roommate or two and this will be over with. It's very draining and I just want it resolved.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Not So Fast!
Reports of my roommate search being over were decidedly short-lived.
The day after I reported that it was a done deal it was an undone deal. The young lady I had hit it off with never confirmed she was taking the space, and after a couple of days I decided to begin placing ads on-line again. I finally did hear from her, and it seems she was caught up in the economic cluster fuck and will either be downsized or relocated. Either way, she won't be moving in with me. Color me disappointed.
So the search begins anew and I have several meetings scheduled for this weekend. The only thing I have slightly in my favor is the fact that many leases for Jan. 1 are about to expire so I have a slightly more desperate pool to fish in. I'm not even looking for any long term commitments. In fact, it would fit in rather well with my plans if I can find a couple of foreign travelers or student interns to take a short rental and get lost.
All of this will be moot if I can't find a job in the next couple of months, and in light of the news lately, I'm not over confident.
Sunday, December 07, 2008
Checking In
I've been a little depressed and in a minor panic of late.
I have been having very little luck in finding a roommate to take my old roomie's place. As I said, considering how relatively cheap my apartment actually rents for you would think people would be lining up to move in, but I have been getting less than half a dozen responses per week for the last three weeks. It amounts to about one a day, and then with most of them, when I return the e-mail or phone call inquiry they never call back or follow through. I've tried to figure out if I'm being off-putting in some way but there's honestly no way you can tell what a cranky old fag I am just from my on-line ad.
All that seemed to change this afternoon when I finally met a young lady I seemed to have an instant rapport with. She's friendly and bright and seems to really love the idea of living here with the extra security of a dog to watch the house. Never mind that Riley's protection can be bought with a slice of ham. We sort of tacitly affirmed that the feeling is mutual and I expect that she will call me tomorrow to take the apartment. That will be a huge load off my mind.
Things are not so rosy on the job front. I have been sending out on-line responses to 10 -15 want ads every week, and where that usually would result (for me) in at least two or more requests for interviews, some weeks I'm not getting any. And I have a pretty impressive resume if I do say so myself. Truth be told, I've sort of lied by omission about the time towards the end of my drinking days when I bounced from job to job. No sense muddying up the waters with messy details that don't reflect on where I am now.
Significantly, I have been contacted by the majority of my old employees letting me know that a lot of them are ready and able to return to work any time, which means that my dearth of job opportunities have much to do with the ass falling off the economy and not my own job-worthy-ness. Everyone is out of work or working a crappy job for no money. Knowing that doesn't make my current lack of income any less stressful. Still, now that I've found what seems to be a suitable roommate, I should be able to at least keep current on the bills until a good paying job comes along.
On the bright side of that, I do have a preliminary interview for a job I would dearly love to snag at a new restaurant/hotel across the river in New Jersey. Unfortunately, it's a phone interview, and if you've never had the pleasure, they suck. The headhunter is in Chicago and I will be here in New York. We have a phone call at an appointed time during which she pulls apart my resume and fires a bunch of questions at me. All of which I have to answer without having a face to look at or the ability to gauge whether or not I am boring the crap out of her. I hate it. I am a very visual person, and I usually take cues from someone's face, body language and a host of other non-verbal clues to try and win the person over and give a good interview. A phone interview makes me feel crippled.
I've also been to the dentist again. I bet you thought I was done when my root canal was finally finished. I did too. But it seems that my dentist decided that I had worn away the enamel on my teeth where they meet at the gum line. It could be a side effect of years of drinking and whatever vitamin deficiency goes along with that. So I have a series of appointments set up where he will fill in all those open crevices with porcelain. It should prevent further decay and stop any sensitivity I have to cold foods and ice. If you ask me, I think my dentist has a crush on me and is inventing reasons for me to come in. I don't want to buy trouble, but I can't believe my ADAP insurance covers this many visits and this much work. But they have never asked me for a single payment so I guess I'll just enjoy it and flash my reconditioned smile.
I have been having very little luck in finding a roommate to take my old roomie's place. As I said, considering how relatively cheap my apartment actually rents for you would think people would be lining up to move in, but I have been getting less than half a dozen responses per week for the last three weeks. It amounts to about one a day, and then with most of them, when I return the e-mail or phone call inquiry they never call back or follow through. I've tried to figure out if I'm being off-putting in some way but there's honestly no way you can tell what a cranky old fag I am just from my on-line ad.
All that seemed to change this afternoon when I finally met a young lady I seemed to have an instant rapport with. She's friendly and bright and seems to really love the idea of living here with the extra security of a dog to watch the house. Never mind that Riley's protection can be bought with a slice of ham. We sort of tacitly affirmed that the feeling is mutual and I expect that she will call me tomorrow to take the apartment. That will be a huge load off my mind.
Things are not so rosy on the job front. I have been sending out on-line responses to 10 -15 want ads every week, and where that usually would result (for me) in at least two or more requests for interviews, some weeks I'm not getting any. And I have a pretty impressive resume if I do say so myself. Truth be told, I've sort of lied by omission about the time towards the end of my drinking days when I bounced from job to job. No sense muddying up the waters with messy details that don't reflect on where I am now.
Significantly, I have been contacted by the majority of my old employees letting me know that a lot of them are ready and able to return to work any time, which means that my dearth of job opportunities have much to do with the ass falling off the economy and not my own job-worthy-ness. Everyone is out of work or working a crappy job for no money. Knowing that doesn't make my current lack of income any less stressful. Still, now that I've found what seems to be a suitable roommate, I should be able to at least keep current on the bills until a good paying job comes along.
On the bright side of that, I do have a preliminary interview for a job I would dearly love to snag at a new restaurant/hotel across the river in New Jersey. Unfortunately, it's a phone interview, and if you've never had the pleasure, they suck. The headhunter is in Chicago and I will be here in New York. We have a phone call at an appointed time during which she pulls apart my resume and fires a bunch of questions at me. All of which I have to answer without having a face to look at or the ability to gauge whether or not I am boring the crap out of her. I hate it. I am a very visual person, and I usually take cues from someone's face, body language and a host of other non-verbal clues to try and win the person over and give a good interview. A phone interview makes me feel crippled.
I've also been to the dentist again. I bet you thought I was done when my root canal was finally finished. I did too. But it seems that my dentist decided that I had worn away the enamel on my teeth where they meet at the gum line. It could be a side effect of years of drinking and whatever vitamin deficiency goes along with that. So I have a series of appointments set up where he will fill in all those open crevices with porcelain. It should prevent further decay and stop any sensitivity I have to cold foods and ice. If you ask me, I think my dentist has a crush on me and is inventing reasons for me to come in. I don't want to buy trouble, but I can't believe my ADAP insurance covers this many visits and this much work. But they have never asked me for a single payment so I guess I'll just enjoy it and flash my reconditioned smile.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Back To Work
I got a phone call yesterday from the owner of my "former" place of employment. It seems they are on the verge of re-opening, at least in a limited capacity, and want me to come in and manage that for them. Of course, I am so horribly broke that I will do just that. I don't have all the details yet, beyond the fact that they have an event for MTV booked for the second week of November. No idea what else they have coming up, nor how many hours they want me to put in etc. All of that will impact how much I will need them to compensate me. Also, I plan on making sure that I am paid for any new work that I do immediately. I have a formal meeting with the owner on Tuesday morning and I'm assuming we'll hash all this out to everyone's satisfaction.
I also got an email response from a job listing on Craigslist wanting me to haul my ass out to Stamford, Ct. for a job interview. That is so not going to happen. It's over an hour away, so whatever job they are offering, unless it's a blow job, I don't want it.
I have no plans for Halloween this year. As I was scrubbing the living room this morning I found a Rock and Roll thermal shirt I had cut that I made Jet wear on a couple of cold days last year. I put it on Riley to see if it would fit and he really seemed aggravated by it. I swear, he looked at me like "WTF?" Then he put it in his mouth to try and get it off. When that didn't work he sat on the couch with the collar in his mouth just staring at me until I came and removed it. Then he tried to rip it up. Big surprise.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Friday, July 11, 2008
Jet Is Better
By the time I was headed for home that night it was around 2:40 am and I had worked myself into a horrible state. I'm not given to melodrama as a rule, but I was really afraid I had made a mistake and I would arrive to find Jet sick and suffering under the bed or even worse. I ran up all five flights of stairs and pushed open the door. To my relief, there at the far end of the hallway stood my boy, up on his feet and wagging the nub where his tail used to be. I almost burst into tears. I sat down in the kitchen and pulled his face up to mine and hugged him.
"You feel OK?"
He seemed much better. I opened up the bottle of Pedialyte I bought him. I had heard that it was good for dogs if they were dehydrated. I poured about half the bottle in his bowl. Even though it looks like water and this particular brand was packaged as "flavorless" Jet knew immediately I hadn't given him water. He sniffed it and rejected it immediately. I put several ice cubes in the bowl to get him interested, which worked enough that he drank about half. More to make me happy it seemed.
Then he made for the door as if he was ready for a walk. That made me feel much better. He was by no means his peppy self, but he was at least up and interested. I noticed he was no longer gagging either. Although he did manage to cough up something green and nasty on my bed sheet while I was at work. Why he insists on bringing up the grossest things in my bed .... Maybe because it's the only interesting thing that happens there these days. In any case, we went for a nice walk around two blocks and he got up the stairs all on his own. Slowly, but he did fine. I think he was just worn out from being sick.
Once I got him upstairs and smothered in more kisses, I grabbed a snack for myself and settled on to the couch, at which point he surprised me again by nudging my hand with his nose, using the sign language we worked out meaning "Hungry". I dropped my own food and made for the kitchen to fix him a bowl. He ate it all at once. No gagging. No retching.
And then he slept on the bed curled up right next to me all night long. In the morning he "asked" for some more food.
I'll finish out his antibiotics and make sure he gets more Pedialyte when it gets particularly humid out. And once he runs out of medication I'll bring him in for more lab work. But for now I think he, we, are going to be fine.
And thanks for asking guys.
"You feel OK?"
He seemed much better. I opened up the bottle of Pedialyte I bought him. I had heard that it was good for dogs if they were dehydrated. I poured about half the bottle in his bowl. Even though it looks like water and this particular brand was packaged as "flavorless" Jet knew immediately I hadn't given him water. He sniffed it and rejected it immediately. I put several ice cubes in the bowl to get him interested, which worked enough that he drank about half. More to make me happy it seemed.
Then he made for the door as if he was ready for a walk. That made me feel much better. He was by no means his peppy self, but he was at least up and interested. I noticed he was no longer gagging either. Although he did manage to cough up something green and nasty on my bed sheet while I was at work. Why he insists on bringing up the grossest things in my bed .... Maybe because it's the only interesting thing that happens there these days. In any case, we went for a nice walk around two blocks and he got up the stairs all on his own. Slowly, but he did fine. I think he was just worn out from being sick.
Once I got him upstairs and smothered in more kisses, I grabbed a snack for myself and settled on to the couch, at which point he surprised me again by nudging my hand with his nose, using the sign language we worked out meaning "Hungry". I dropped my own food and made for the kitchen to fix him a bowl. He ate it all at once. No gagging. No retching.
And then he slept on the bed curled up right next to me all night long. In the morning he "asked" for some more food.
I'll finish out his antibiotics and make sure he gets more Pedialyte when it gets particularly humid out. And once he runs out of medication I'll bring him in for more lab work. But for now I think he, we, are going to be fine.
And thanks for asking guys.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Jet Is Sick
I'm worried. His last visit to the vet brought some bad news, and the fear is that there is something wrong with his kidneys. On top of that he came up as anemic (me too!), and he had some sort of bacterial infection. Me and the dog are a walking bug factory. So he went back on the antibiotics for the last couple of weeks. The vet wasn't too alarmed because he was eating all right, going to the bathroom and he wasn't really symptomatic.
Unfortunately right after his visit, he started getting finicky about eating and began throwing up every day or so. He still seemed pretty energetic, eager to go outside etc. Then over the 4th of July weekend he stopped going to the bathroom and refused to eat more than occasionally. He also started retching every few hours or every time he drank from his water. I continued to give him his medication, and he certainly didn't seem worse.
Last night and today he started to scare me. He refused any kind of food, biscuit cheese, anything. He even turned away at the cooked beef liver I made for him the other day, and that he absolutely devoured the day before. Last night after his walk he seemed OK, but then he suddenly threw up on the bed again. He's been gagging all morning and didn't even want to go out this morning for a walk, despite being in all night.
I "forced" him to go outside, which he went along with. It's been ridiculously hot and humid, and he's never liked the heat, but he seemed disinterested in even being outside. After we walked around the park he came back in the building but started walking up the stairs like he was a hundred. After the second set of stairs he just stopped and looked at me like he couldn't make it. I had to scoop him up and carry him the rest of the way. Once he got in the house he kept curling up under chairs and tables, like he was trying to hide. He periodically retched and coughed.
At this point, I'm pretty sure this can't just be the heat. He always gets funky during really humid days but not this bad. I almost called in sick to work to run him in to the vet again, but I decided to leave him in the air conditioning and see how he is when I get home. Of course, now it's all I'm thinking about, and if anything happens to him while I'm at work I'll die myself.
He kind of helped save my life.
Unfortunately right after his visit, he started getting finicky about eating and began throwing up every day or so. He still seemed pretty energetic, eager to go outside etc. Then over the 4th of July weekend he stopped going to the bathroom and refused to eat more than occasionally. He also started retching every few hours or every time he drank from his water. I continued to give him his medication, and he certainly didn't seem worse.
Last night and today he started to scare me. He refused any kind of food, biscuit cheese, anything. He even turned away at the cooked beef liver I made for him the other day, and that he absolutely devoured the day before. Last night after his walk he seemed OK, but then he suddenly threw up on the bed again. He's been gagging all morning and didn't even want to go out this morning for a walk, despite being in all night.
I "forced" him to go outside, which he went along with. It's been ridiculously hot and humid, and he's never liked the heat, but he seemed disinterested in even being outside. After we walked around the park he came back in the building but started walking up the stairs like he was a hundred. After the second set of stairs he just stopped and looked at me like he couldn't make it. I had to scoop him up and carry him the rest of the way. Once he got in the house he kept curling up under chairs and tables, like he was trying to hide. He periodically retched and coughed.
At this point, I'm pretty sure this can't just be the heat. He always gets funky during really humid days but not this bad. I almost called in sick to work to run him in to the vet again, but I decided to leave him in the air conditioning and see how he is when I get home. Of course, now it's all I'm thinking about, and if anything happens to him while I'm at work I'll die myself.
He kind of helped save my life.
Monday, June 16, 2008
We Be Illin'
The pooch and I were both sick this weekend.
Jet had another appointment at the vet. His leaking dog-pee problem turned out not to be cured after almost two weeks of antibiotics, so I signed him up for more tests. He had some blood work done and I had to bring in a urine sample to test. Have you ever tried to collect a dog's urine? If it's a girl dog, it's all pretty much a question of timing and getting a container below the squat. Not so simple with a boy. If I so much as bumped him trying to get a sample he automatically stopped. And it's not like an udder you can grab hold of and squirt. And people give you the oddest look as you gingerly sneak up on your peeing dog with a little Tupperware bowl. I finally set up a couple of nice bank shots off a building and a tree and collected enough for what I hoped was a good sample. It was. And even though the test results aren't back, the new medication the vet prescribed seems to have done the trick and my bed and couch are finally dry.
Unfortunately, during the walk before the vet Jet managed to get a hold of a hunk of chicken that had fallen out of the trash. I grabbed some of it out of his mouth but he had already swallowed a nice chunk. I had a bad feeling right away as it has been so hot lately and I had no idea how long the chicken had been in the garbage. Sure enough, by Saturday at 5 A.M. Jet started throwing up and before he was done he puked in the bedroom and on the couch. Then he started loosing control of the hole at his other end. All. over. The kitchen. It was delightful to wake up to.
As for myself, I've been feeling fatigued and lightheaded for a couple of days, and by Saturday afternoon I had wicked heartburn and then a sore throat. By the time I went to bed Saturday I had a headache and by the time I woke up, a cough and sniffles. By this morning, I woke up with sinus congestion and a swollen-red right eye. And I sounded like Lauren Bacall. But I was determined to make a day off of it so I still managed to get in a little shopping (never too sick for shopping), an afternoon Gay-A meeting (I feel asleep), and a trip to the gym for some cardio and light weights.
And now that the weekend is almost over we are both on the mend and feeling much improved. Just in time to go back to work.
Jet had another appointment at the vet. His leaking dog-pee problem turned out not to be cured after almost two weeks of antibiotics, so I signed him up for more tests. He had some blood work done and I had to bring in a urine sample to test. Have you ever tried to collect a dog's urine? If it's a girl dog, it's all pretty much a question of timing and getting a container below the squat. Not so simple with a boy. If I so much as bumped him trying to get a sample he automatically stopped. And it's not like an udder you can grab hold of and squirt. And people give you the oddest look as you gingerly sneak up on your peeing dog with a little Tupperware bowl. I finally set up a couple of nice bank shots off a building and a tree and collected enough for what I hoped was a good sample. It was. And even though the test results aren't back, the new medication the vet prescribed seems to have done the trick and my bed and couch are finally dry.
Unfortunately, during the walk before the vet Jet managed to get a hold of a hunk of chicken that had fallen out of the trash. I grabbed some of it out of his mouth but he had already swallowed a nice chunk. I had a bad feeling right away as it has been so hot lately and I had no idea how long the chicken had been in the garbage. Sure enough, by Saturday at 5 A.M. Jet started throwing up and before he was done he puked in the bedroom and on the couch. Then he started loosing control of the hole at his other end. All. over. The kitchen. It was delightful to wake up to.
As for myself, I've been feeling fatigued and lightheaded for a couple of days, and by Saturday afternoon I had wicked heartburn and then a sore throat. By the time I went to bed Saturday I had a headache and by the time I woke up, a cough and sniffles. By this morning, I woke up with sinus congestion and a swollen-red right eye. And I sounded like Lauren Bacall. But I was determined to make a day off of it so I still managed to get in a little shopping (never too sick for shopping), an afternoon Gay-A meeting (I feel asleep), and a trip to the gym for some cardio and light weights.
And now that the weekend is almost over we are both on the mend and feeling much improved. Just in time to go back to work.
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