Things That Frustrate Me

I write this as someone who has been rudely awakened by the incessant stuttering of city work crew jackhammers in the street. At 8 a.m. That shook the house.

Not a happy camper am I.

So yesterday started out so full of good intentions. Only a couple good things came of it.

I should admit now that I am super whiny.

Went to class. Class was fine. Walked partway home with a classmate I've talked to for awhile who told me that my freaking out at 28 Days Later psyched her up for something scarier than what she saw, so I guess that was a positive outcome.

Kevin was supposed to come over to catch the bus and see the movie. I was afraid he was going to flake out, because the night before he said something about how he wasn't sure he could be awake then, and: "I'm not sure I feel like a movie." So I ranted to Chris a bit, who told me I was in the right, then Kevin just showed up. We went to catch the bus, which left as we got there and looked to be going the wrong way. We went back to the house to see if we could find another route or if the theater offered validated parking. It didn't. Two hours of parking on Capitol Hill in the middle of the day probably offsets any savings from attending a matinee, so I said we shouldn't go.

Which, of course, made me stupid-mad at myself.

I tried to get some work done. I called people for my two stories (one story per week! It's week two and I won't have turned in any stories! Yay) and talked to both of them. I arranged to go to the weightlifitng class tomorrow morning, so I thought I'd have one story done by tonight. Score. The other source told me the family would be coming back to town Friday afternoon, so I should try calling them Saturday or later. The story's due Wednesday, so it should be okay. I'm a little worried I'll have to get to Bothell for a proper interview; it seems like trying to figure out the mess that is treatment and insurance hassles wouldn't work well over the phone. I emailed the editor of the paper wanting the weightlifing story to tell her of my plans (and the class schedule so she could send a photographer).

Kevin and I sat in my room, twiddling our thumbs, until I said: "Hey, wanna go to Goodwill? It's 50% day!" He asked if I was joking. I confirmed that I was not, so he agreed. We roped Chris into our trip and set off for the freeway.

The store was a little hectic and picked-over, but the renovations made the place look and smell much nicer than it used to. I picked up five records for scratching (although I may discourage scratching Gladys Knight and the Pips' Imagination, yeeeah) for $0.50 each, a couple paperbacks for $0.34 apiece, and a gorgeous pair of tall red boots (with 3" heel, yikes) for $3:


So I felt pretty stoked about my awesome thrift score, and we sat around downstairs, fucking with records, walking around in too-tall boots, and making dinner. Jen came down and was suitably impressed with my purchase and showed me her new-used knee-high black Docs. Aieee. I cooked these Gardenburger BBQ Riblets that intrigued me at Trader Joe's last week--despite my actual distaste for BBQ sauce and ribs--which turned out to be pretty good, though I am not looking forward to cleaning my George Foreman. This is turning into the Product Placement Paragraph, geez.

After copious grazing, Kevin wanted to go to Carkeek. I agreed and checked my phone for messages. I had one from the editor at the weightlifting-assigning paper saying that the interview subject didn't want to be interviewed tomorrow because it wouldn't be well-attended so close to the holidays, and, in fact, wants to meet with the editor to discuss the angle of the story before proceeding, so she'll let me know if and when the story is ever going to happen. Oh, okay. Down to one story, as-yet unwritten, for this term in which I need nine stories. Yay, that's cool.

Carkeek was lovely. The sun was bright, so we walked to the south end of the beach (high tide) and climbed over the railroad tracks to sit on this weird path behind a tree. Some guys walked by after a long, slow-moving freight train passed and made comments about this area being good to stash things (they didn't see us). Then Kevin suggested going to Value Village, which I was all for.

I found a toaster almost exactly like the one I broke. It's not as wide, but I think it's sufficient for our toasting needs. $6. Not a great score, but better than what I'd pay for even the shittiest toaster at Fred Meyer. Kevin found an ugly mustard yellow wheeled chair that he really liked and ended up buying. He took issue with my calling it ugly, but I countered that one of my favorite shirts is what I call hideous. "I'm not saying it's ugly in a bad way!"

I wanted to go the Barnes and Noble because I thought they'd for-sure have a copy of Pamie's book I could buy, so we ventured over the hill to the U Village. I feel dirty. They didn't even have it. They had 23 copies on order, but nothing in the store. Bastards. Now I guess I'll have to order it online.

We ate falafels and hung out and eventually I was just fuckin' sleepy and went to sleep, which brings us to 8 a.m. and the jackhammers. And here I am. And sure, I'd probably have been awake by now anyway, but damn.

Here's hoping something about today goes right. Goddamn.