serinde

Ranger spontaneously decided that he wanted to start sacking out on top of my dresser. Said space is currently about 1/3 occupied by my ancient boom box; the remainder has the two small earring receptacles, and all my Required Pocketstuff when it is not in pockets or purse: keys, other keys, money, wallet, flash card, etc. So the sequence of the night went something like this:

1. I drift off to sleep.
2. There is an earth-shattering kaboom; I wake up.
3. I blearily look up to see Ranger looking at me going MOW?, having just kicked something clattery off the top of the dresser.
4. I make an "oh no not again" noise, chivvy him off, and pick up whatever's fallen down.
5. Climb back into bed. Try and sleep as Ranger paces around, settling first here, then there, generating a certain amount of nervousness about the chance for a nose chomp.
6. Repeat.

If you're wondering why I don't apply water bottle correction methods, it's because that making him spaz and flee would almost certainly result in my earring boxes going over, and we just do not want to go there.

So. Yes. Very, very sleepy.

(Also, some other tenant has an enormously loud fan in the airshaft, but it isn't bothering me too much. I had rather it were not there, certainly, but it's tolerable as white noise.)

Take ye a package of ground turkey that needs eatin'. Mix it with 1 egg (beaten), thyme, rosemary, salt, pepper, and breadcrumbs ynogh (maybe a generous slice). Glob well and form into biggish but not gargantuan meatballs.

Slice one orange pepper, 1/3 c onion, and a couple cloves of garlic. Put in skillet with a bit of oil and a bit of butter; let slowly cook on lowish heat, getting all nice and aromatic (my Italian cookbook calls this "insaporire"). When bored, put in the meatballs. Let that cook, turning occasionally. Phone sweh, forgetting what you're doing, until the smell of caramelizing onions grabs your attention. Splash some of the Chardonnay you're drinking into the skillet to loosen things up and put a lid on. Wait some ten minutes, then OM NOM NOM NOM.

I'd like this in a more sauce-like substance, but a) I don't have what I want to make one, and b) it'd be bad for me anyways. Still awfully good, though needed a bit more salt.

In spite of sundry other commitments & distractions, nesting proceeds apace. I have hung my signed Alex Maleev print on the bedroom wall, so I am officially Arrived. Pay no attention to the ten unpacked boxes.

I might have been further along, but the weekend involved a great deal of frantic running around--but then, it was necessary running-around in order to actually proceed. E.g., the god. damn. counter. top. I have cleaning tools, which will be useful when I have cleared enough space to clean; I have organizational wossnames; I have a full length mirror that I'm not sure will stay up, and an under-cabinet toaster oven, ditto; I have LED stick-on lights over the kitchen workspace; a screen so I can have the fire escape window open without Ranger wandering out and getting horribly confused, and so on. Immediate needs include a 20' ethernet cable so that I do not have DSL wiring festooned across the center of the living room, varying sizes of screws and anchors to attach shelves to walls with some level of stability, and some kind of shelving to hold kitchenstuff overrun while I have time to make some decisions (and will hold pantry items afterwards).

In the short term, I intend to get some kind of flat-screen or cinema display that I shall use for TV (by which I mean, "DVDs"), XBox, and (eventually) hooking up a computer that is much smaller than gfefx's current incarnation. Maybe. I'm not sure how well a system such as this would work for PC gaming. But the idea of having all DVDs and CDs on it and thus clearing all the space those items currently take up is deeply attractive, and it also means Hulu etc. can be viewed as other televisionary items. In any case, the screen shall be on one of those wall-mounted arm things so I can put it flat against the wall when not in use, and extend it & angle at 90 degrees to watch it from the couch. I also need to get a couple of frames for some posters I want to hang; I realized that some 40% of my Crate of Art is wedding related. Aheheheheh. (Mem: must reclaim Mark Rogers painting.) Oh! And curtains. At last, full length curtains with nifty curtain rods shall be mine.

I am also thinking long and hard about eBooks. I have filled the two bookshelves I brought and I still have two boxes of books to go. Looking at what's on the shelves, if I got a reader that did nothing but hold Martin, Brust, Bujold, Butcher, and maybe Kay, that'd clear out nigh half a bookcase--and all of those are available in electronic format. Mmm, I haven't checked the more obscure Brust (I had a hell of a time finding a copy of To Reign In Hell even in physical form) but the Taltos and the Khaavren series are available, and that's most of the sq. ftge.

When I clear more space, I intend to get a gatefold table; so, small occasional table most of the time, expandable to seat a few guests to dinner. (This also implies folding chairs; I noticed BB&B had some very handsome ones that looked Real, that is, not like folding chairs at all.) I also need to take some leisurely thought toward the current misc furniture next to my bed which do not add up to a sensible set-up. And, finally, I need a Fiber Arts Solution.

I intend to start a tag-series for Local Stuff Reviews, but for now let me quickly note that the pub across First--O'Flanaghan's--has tasty pub food, and apparently has live music Thurs - Sat nights, but is not cheap. Seven dollar pints, what the hell, people. Also, it is important to note that it's really damn hard to find parking around here, at least on a rainy Saturday afternoon.

The university on the end of my block is actually a biomedical research institution. Ground zero for zombie plagues, kids! I have an axe and a mace, don't you worry about me none. And the glorious big stone church on the corner of my street is a Slovak Catholic church. It makes me think of Grandpa's stories of his childhood 3-hour ordeals on a hard wooden bench listening to services entirely in Slovak, and I purr in fond remembrance.

(Yes, I only just got to see it. I've been busy.) elibalin, nedlnthred, and I went last night. We had the perfect mix: Beth had never read the comic, I had but not recently, and Eli had fairly recently. We all give it the Thumbs-Up of Approval. No, of course it's not as nuanced, how could it be? but I think it transmitted the central theme well. The casting choices ranged from "does the job" to "fucking brilliant": that Rorschach was picture-perfect, let me tell you. I was also getting a large amount of nerdgirl happy over Blue Beetle Night Owl. Yes, yes, yes.

I saw a DVD of "Tales of the Black Freighter" in my FNCS; I wonder if that means they'll cut it together with the film for ultimate release?

Also, let me take a moment to indulge in the happy of being home in half an hour after leaving the theater.

So, the revolution is confirmed for tomorrow. We will do the move in reverse order, since there's an open house at Our House tomorrow at 11:30, and it would be nice to not have movers schlepping shit through it. This has the unfortunate effect of Ranger in a cat carrier for longer, but I don't want to either move him today and leave him alone in a mostly-empty apartment (with nowhere to hide, which is important to him) or try and drive in another day with all the headache that entails.

The chorus of fail is composed of these parts:
- Myself, for not realizing there was a second page on the quote. All the pertinent data was on page 1, and there was no indication of there being MOAR (it didn't break off mid-paragraph or anything, and there was a fair amount of whitespace at the bottom), so it didn't even occur to me. Page 2 is where it says "oh and call back to confirm with your CC".
- Their administration-flow designers, for not making the "oh and call back to confirm" BIG AND OBVIOUS, and possibly in MULTIPLE LOCATIONS. Like, after you go through the online contract signing, a friendly message saying "Great! We have a deal! Now phone us with your moneys!"
- My Designated Rep Guy, the fellow who came out to give me a quote. He called back with abject apologies for not following up; it seems that most people after getting the quote call him five times a day with various trivia and head-explodey, so there's plenty of opportunity to make sure that the Is are dotted and the Ts crossed. The silent wheel does not get the attention of grease.

I am impressed that they managed to get everything together to reschedule for tomorrow; not that they shouldn't, but sometimes all the will in the world is insufficient. Also, everyone who I spoke to this morning was falling over themselves to be helpful and Make it Right and so on. (And they're getting me a discount.)

Am in a reasonably stable mental state--having the Internet acting out your emotions seems to help--but I still have a gently-friend psyche and my throat hurts from my initial howl of frustration. I think I shall do nothing useful today, instead embracing the way of the couch potato.

So, I hauled up north at 9:00 (after a long day of assorted taskery and mental ugh) to meet my mom, who landed here for the night on her way to shechameleon's. The ostensible purpose was that she was giving me a coffeemaker, which I lacked; these arrangements having been made before I looked again at the apartment and went ZOMG NO SPACE. I refined it by giving back into her care my great-grandma's china, which there is seriously no space for in my life at this time, and a few things for my niece and nephew which I had been too lame to actually post. (B: It's old jewelry, in your cedar box, and also some books.) I didn't want to go running around late at night after such a day of bees, but, y'know, she rented a car and is having a 15-hour drive just to give me a Goddamn Mr. Coffee. So.

And we went to dinner, and we talked, and it was really good.

I keep forgetting, or fearing that it's not going to happen this time, that when push comes to shove and the mad and the bad and the crazy are upon you, Mom puts all her usual fussy aside and is all the supportive, helpful, and contributory in the world. She has done this time and again when I've been in a tough place--and it's not that I have to hold up my hand and say "OK, I'm a mess right now", either. She just knows, and does what you need accordingly. My mom is, at the base of it, in spite of all the chaos and arbitrary and what-not, actually awesome.

So I picked up the keys to the apartment last night, and went in for the first time since I looked it over and said "yes, have some". I unlocked the door, dropped my four bags of miscellaneous crap, and looked around; and then did an impression of the above icon.

I don't know how, but it looked bigger with all the previous tenant's stuff in it. I WILL NEVER FIIIIIIIIT I HAVE THROWN OUT ALL MY STUFF AND I STILL WON'T FIIIIIIIIIIT

While I was slowly rotating and gibbering, sweh came in (with flowers!!) and got me a bit calmed down; and then I proceeded with the intended goal, which was to take the tape measure and the graph paper and actually graph the place out. (This is what happens when your parents start you on D&D at age 7.) Regrettably I cannot scan it at this time, so draw along at home: The place is basically a big rectangle, just under 11' wide, and about 25' long. (And then the bathroom is stuck on the end.) At the not-bathroom end are two windows; if you set your back to them and walk forward about 15.5', the walls come in to form a 5' wide doorway, with two folding doors. When you're standing with your back to the windows, immediately to your left is stove, sink, enough countertop for one appliance (who wins? Coffeemaker, mixer, rice cooker, or toaster?), and fridge. Th-th-th-that's all, folks.

Intellectually, I know it is more than possible to live in such a space. We all know people who do, and do it well. And moreover, as I keep chanting to myself, I have a one year lease; if the place chafes, I can leave. But it's still a shock to the mind to feel all "oh I've done pretty well! Look at all the stuff I'm getting rid of or not taking!" and then realize, well, actually, it's not half enough. It has been noted that perhaps I am just a wee bit too wrapped up in Proving Something and Doing It Perfectly and sundry other related issues.

I'm not sure if the futon fits. The desk does, but by damn the computer goes there and only there. TV goes where? Can't take the blue armchair, or if I do, it's in place of the futon and that seems bad, want to have a guest bed. Must get flat-panel TV, no two ways about that. I can fit bed and dresser, and the jewelry armoire, but I just don't know about the vanity. OH MY GOD I FORGOT ABOUT THE BAR STUFF WHERE DOES THE BOOZE GO

Oh, and litterbox. I could probably get a smaller one, as Ranger eats two kibbles a day and produces very little effluvium, but it still must needs go somewhere.

So. Yes. Everybody Panic.

To wit, taking screenshots of our web site and nitpicking them, then mailing the result to $OVERBOSS with snitty remarks. (And then the poop slides gently downhill.)

And, sure, the month-old one should probably removed, but seriously: shouldn't he be, oh I dunno, tending to his students? Or if he really must get involved in web site judgment, how about sitting down with a few far more egregious sites on campus?

In general, I'm pleased that I don't have to take the 6 during the morning rush. It comes with reasonable frequency, and yet is always insanely packed; and people seem to be crankier than on most other lines. This morning, though, I was feeling lazy and not-out-in-cold so I did the E => 6 ('stead of the usual F and walk six blocks) (did I say lazy? I walked up the entire Stairway to Heaven at 51st St), and regretted it as soon as I squooshed my way into a car. And pity the poor fools at 59th, who wanted even more to get on, but lo, there was no room in the inn.

So in this atmosphere of mild gentility, it's unsurprising that Words are occasionally Had, and sometimes more than words. And thus in the mass exodus at 68th, at the foot of the stairway, did I come across an Asian guy and a Hispanic woman locked in MORTAL KOMBAT, or at least rasslin'. I came to the party too late to see the casus belli, but as I rounded the corner he pushed her away and to the ground, where I heard the *crack* of an iPod losing structural integrity. She came off the mat like a tornado and went for him, and he was nothing loth to go another round; another commuter stepped in and attempted to separate them, which almost worked (albeit with the requisite faces and finger-pointings over the peacemaker's shoulder), but as he went up the stairs she charged after him and caught him up near the top, whereat I, at the foot, had sudden visions of a Katamari snowballing down the steps at me. Happily they removed their discussion to the sub-platform above, where it resumed as a shouting match. Meantime during all this, people are shouting for cops, and I could see the woman in the ticket booth on the phone (and on the PA) trying to summon le gendarmerie.

Wherefore the subject line? For the last two weeks, there has almost always been at least two cops hanging out in the station, right up there. Sometimes they even have the ol' bag check table out. But when there's actually a need for them, not so much as a shiny brass button do you see. This is how cliches start, people.

I'm having certain conflicts that are naturally attendant on moving from a five-bedroom house to a two-room apartment; most are resolvable in the "pitch it or store it" fashion, but some require a bit more dithering, and I'm not sure on the solution.

#1: Desk. Currently in the house is my grandma's old desk, which I'm excessively attached to. And that's fine; it's a perfect height for me to pay bills, do homework, etc., and it has many useful drawers; but the problem is, it is not a salubrious item for putting my computer on. Even if (when) I upgrade to an iMac, which will take up dramatically less room than my current beast, well, I will be sitting at it for several hours at a time most likely, and will not be able to use a good office chair with it. And it seems patently ridiculous to sacrifice space for two desks.

#2. Table. I haven't one. It needs to be of sufficient size to seat four for dinner (and be repurposed for sewing, playing a game, or what-have-you), and yet not clutter up the room. I do have a square, plain pine IKEA table, but it isn't nice-looking (even with a table cloth) and I'm not sure about the height. And, I just don't know where to put a table at all.

I'm sure other line items will occur (where do the bookshelves go?) but these are what's uppermost in my head at the moment.