brains say the darnest things!

so last night i leave work at midnight and start walking in the pouring rain the 10-15 minutes to the harvard square bus station. i was not happy about this, as i usually have my car. (no, i haven't sold it yet). i'm walking down the sidewalk in the dark feeling slightly apprehensive when i find myself praying "God, please protect me as I go home...I'm not in the mood to get attacked right now..." once i realized what i was saying, i found it quite humorous, as if i'm ever in the mood to get attacked. whenever i imagine getting attacked i like to think i could escape through sheer cleverness and a sudden outburst of physical strength and skill, but in reality i figure if i manage to escape it will be narrow and lucky. assuming i do have my pepper spray on me (which, by the way, you're supposed to get a permit to carry in massachusetts) i would have to rummage around in my purse for it while beating off my attacker, get it out of the little red leather case, turn the switch to spray mode, and finally aim and fire in my assailant's eyes. there is way to much margin for error in this scenario, which is why i think i should just keep my car.

by the time i reached my house last night i was so wet that even my underwear had managed to get wet ( i know what you're thinking, and ha ha, very funny) and my pant legs were soaked up to the knees. my vans were drenched as it is impossible to avoid every puddle on the crappy streets of boston when you are hurrying in the dark, and i was not happy. my brain was in a frenzy wondering why people wear warm, waterproof jackets in the winter but not warm, waterproof pants. i mean, i could walk around in snow pants and be quite comfy but i would not be socially accepted. don't people's legs get cold in the winter? and if i wear long johns under my jeans, i'll get steaming hot every time i go in a building. what's a poor, skeletal girl to do? i've pretty much decided that if i do end up not having a car in the winter here, i am going to have to wear a snow suit and snow boots. people can stare all they want, and i will glare back at them bitterly, wondering how on earth they are managing not to freeze.

stick it to the kev

the more things change, the more they stay the same. here i am in my local public library using the computer to update my blog. my fellow computer users are much quieter here though, defying the stereotype that bostonians are ruder than oregonians. the only computer available was the one with the huge, engulfing screen and the giant letters on the keys that take up the entire button. but i'm not complaining, i'm just trying not to look down lest i propel myself into a state of utter annoyance (something that is pretty easy to do when you're me).

i am discovering that selling your car is about as fun as moving from one apartment to another. read: NOT FUN. the readers of craigslist:boston seem to be just as poor as me which makes me wonder why they are wasting my time looking at my car in the first place, just to end up telling me that, they too, are going to ride the T (the subway). i've had about eight people come and test drive my car and still no offers. i was kind of hoping this would be the kind of sale like my drums were, the ripping off the band aid kind, where my car would be gone before i even realized what had happened. but no. now, with each passing day, i only want to keep my car more as i simultaneously realize that i can't afford to keep it. grrr.

two potential car buyers have risen above the rest in the annoyance category. the first is the socially impaired boy who sent me this gem of an email, which i must preface by saying i am asking $2300 for my car:

hi. i saw your listing on craigslist and im very interested in buying your car. i currently have a deal with another person on craigslist who is selling the exact same car for $1000. the only thing is that the communication isnt that great. im willing to give you the $1000 and im willing to pick up the car tomorrow. please keep in touch. im really interested in buying this type of car and honestly i hope i can purchase it from you. thanks alot and hopefully i will be buying your car. thanks.

what a presumptuous butthole! i was so annoyed when i read this that i think i probably screamed. who does he think he is? he thinks he can just send me an email, without ever even looking at my car, offering LESS THAN HALF of what i'm asking? 'hopefully i will be buying your car'? i think not. hopefully you will learn some social skills.

the second nimrod i unfortunately met today when he came to see my car. i had a bad feeling about him because his name is kevin and he signs his emails "kev." sure enough, kev was a complete tool. he's one of those people who thinks they know everything about cars and so proceeded to tell me everything that is wrong and is going to be wrong with my car. according to him, the clutch is about to go out, the alternator needs work, the muffler leaks, water is seeping into my car from every window, and despite my constant statements to the contrary, there absolutely has to be electrical problems because all 1994 vw golf’s have electrical problems. he just knows these things. and the real icing on the cake was when i showed him where the paint is cracking on my bumper and he chipped some off! what the hell? just because that's going to happen eventually anyhow and according to him my car will probably explode in the next five seconds is no excuse to pick paint off of someone else's bumper. the test drive was sheer hell: a time for him to display his infinite knowledge of automobiles and put my poor little car through every possible test while i rolled my eyes constantly at the back of his head and mumbled obscenities under my breath. finally, he declared that it is "a pretty good car" which i found amazing after his thorough assessment of its faults. after he left, i did scream and jump up and down in sheer annoyance. the worst part is, if he wants to buy it for a reasonable price i'm going to have to sell it to him, even though the last thing i want to do is give my beautiful, wonderful car to such an a-hole. do you see what happens when you're poor? you're forced to surrender your principles. you're forced to shop at walmart and support the man and eat cheap, crappy food. my life is a walking, breathing example of the fundamental problems in our country.

ahhh...the sweet bliss of overdramatic blogging. this is one of the only ways i can still stick it to the man, so thank God it’s free.

i miss my cheese

when i moved here i obviously realized it would mean losing some things. i knew i would have to adjust to not living near the majority of my friends and family, not seeing matea and geneva every week or two, and not living in green and rainy oregon. but there were some things, i am coming to realize, that i didn't even know i was giving up. no, these things wouldn't have kept me in oregon, but i am still mourning thier loss, however small.

1. tillamook cheese

for as long as i can remember, tillamook medium (and occasionally sharp) cheddar cheese has been a major staple of my diet. i always had to have a brick of it on hand, and no substitute would do, especially not nasty kraft american singles. so imagine my shock and horror when, on my first grocery shopping trip in boston, i couldn't find my precious brick of tillamook cheese in the dairy section. i just stood there, mouth gaping, unable to believe the absence of something so important to me. my friend pat tells me they sell it at whole foods, but i have yet to verify this rumor.

2. the fred meyer day-after-thanksgiving sock sale

the past several thanksgivings it has been my mom and me's tradition to hit the annual day after thanksgiving sock sale at our local fred meyer. i was gazing at one of my favorite sock sale finds, a worn-out pair of tall, striped beauties, when it occured to me: they don't even HAVE fred meyer here, let alone the sock sale! where will i get my yearly supply of socks? what will i do the day after thanksgiving? mom, you're going for me and sending me the socks. this is what i have decided.

3. when the rain drops, the temperature drops

not so in boston! it's been raining for the last few days and it is so freaking humid! i hate this muggy-ness! in oregon, when it rains, it (generally) cools off and you can enjoy it. you can frolic in it without breaking a sweat. you can wear proper rain attire without feeling like your body is on fire. here, you have to keep wearing shorts and flip flops and blast the a.c. and try not to care that your toes are soaking wet.

disclaimer

alright, time for a long overdue disclaimer about that lovely little poem i wrote about my accident. i am fine! no broken bones, no permenant damage (i hope), i am perfectly okay. i didn't mean to freak you all out with that poem, and wil, kari, and denice, and whoever else i scared the crap out of, i apologize. it was never my intention.

speaking of head-on collisions, i have certainly collided head-on with my new life in boston. i've been here a month now and i've already dated two guys, been in a major car accident, and had a major identidy crisis. and some of those things aren't really past tense. i have realized that it is unwise to discuss certain issues in my blog, however tempted i may be, but i will say that i've met a very nice guy named matt and he is very sweet to me. yesterday he had (minor) surgery (yes, i just cant stay away from hospitals) and i took him and brought him home and nursed him back to health. i mean, all i really did was take care of him, not "nurse him back to health" but i just like that phrase and i've been using it as much as possible. after his surgery when he was recovering, he walked around a tiny bit, sat back down, and promptly passed out. it was so freaky! he was only out for like 30 seconds, but it was scary. his head just dropped into his chest and he instantly started snoring. after that we spent a good couple of hours making sure he wasn't going to pass out again, drinking tiny apple juices and ginger ales, reading outdated magazines, and getting to know the nurses. this one nurse, maureen, was wearing these extremely see-through white pants and entirely visible white underwear underneath. i couldn't stop staring at her poor, exposed butt, and silently wishing she had had the common sense to realize how transparent her pants were so that everyone who looked at her wasn't placed in the horribly awkward position of wanting to tell her but not being able to. it really was tragic.

i really like my new job, although it has its ups and downs just like any other job. i'm getting to know all of the kids here, and i like each of them a lot in their own unique ways. there are a lot of rules and routines to learn, and just time and experience that need to take place. but most of the time i'm not bored and i feel like i am in the right place, working to help others, and working with others, which is so refreshing after the chalk art solitude.