A Big Day for Everyone

Last night my mother got a Prius. Spectra blue . . . not that ugly not-quite-sky-blue . . . the deep blue that's a bit lighter & brighter than navy.

I followed her home in the huge, burgundy, 12-mile-to-the-gallon Pontiac Bonneville that's as old as I am & has a blue book value of $200 - an amount that will probably be matched by having the window fixed (can't roll it down more than 2 inches - which normally, I would leave & forget about, but in today's fast pace world of drive-thru food places, Starbucks, banks, & toll booths, it's actually a genuine hassle)

That trip home was my inaugural trip. That crappy car who's stereo volume is controlled by a bipolar poltergeist is now mine. Here's the idea. My first car is supposed to be a junker . . . because statistically, I'm way overdue for my first accident. Unfortunately, this car - who's never heard of CDs - has been around since before I'd heard of CDs. I'm attached to it. It's so old, the steering wheel is flaking apart in my hands, but it's the first steering wheel I ever used. (By the way, that's my one renovation - I have a Superman steering wheel cover. :) Call me dorky, but there you have it.) As it happens, this car may cost more to maintain over the next x number of years than it would to get a new car, but crashing it is probably the only way I'll let go of it. I love my new car. And I was so happy to have the freedom of having a new car, so here's what I did on my first day with a car.

I drove up to the Crackpot to get a job application. I was going to apply a while ago, but wasn't allowed to. Now I have permission & I have a car, so I can work any awkward set of hours during the summer.

When I got home, I sat down to knit for a while & heard a sound. I looked up & there was Oscar. Now, Oscar came to us from a family that operated a little differently. We can only guess that he's had a rough life, but we'd put a wager on it. Along with 'rough' he was a bit neglected. That's how we met him. He was always outside, trying to get in. And he loved everybody. Since he's moved in with us, we've tried to turn him into an inside cat. So I looked up toward the sound I heard & it was Oscar . . . coming in through the window. Not like we leave windows open & screenless all around the house . . . actually, he had moved aside one of those little screen wings on the air conditioner & gotten out through that hole. And now he was coming in.

Then I went online to enter codes on mycokerewards. I know, I have no life. It seemed dumb & useless, but then it occurred to me just HOW MUCH soda passes through this household. We seriously stock up. And the caps are worth three points. The codes in 12 packs are worth 10 or 12 points, & someone at my mother's work is giving her codes that I don't know what they come from, but they're worth 25 points. While I'm entering my codes from caps, I see a promo that says for June 25th only, the codes on the inside of 12 packs will be worth DOUBLE what they're usually worth. Now, you're only allowed to enter 10 codes in a day. I got 4 codes from 12 packs from a friend when I went over for a visit & I went to Wal-Mart to buy 6 12 packs of soda. Don't judge. It's not like pouring out all the cereal just to get to the toy - we really drink so much soda that this is actually practical. We're probably stocked for a couple weeks.

So as I came home from Wal-Mart, I headed to turn down one road after mine so I could go around the block & be facing the right way to park on the side of the street where my house is - they're actually pretty on top of tickets for parking facing the wrong way in my area - & the road was blocked off my a cop. I wound up having to do one of those big awkward 3 point turns in the middle of the street where you pray no one's coming up either side of the road cause you feel like a jerk who doesn't know where they're going, but I got a bit of a look at things & it looks like there was a fire . . . or a break-in . . . both sides of the road were blocked off, one side by a cop, the other by a fire truck & a group of people were standing out on the sidewalk . . . there wasn't much else to see, but naturally, I'm curious & worried . . .

So, distracted, I parked & got out of the car with a 12 pack in my hand & it started to slip. I turned my attention to the 12 pack as I closed the door & the car door failed to close on account of my thumb being in the way. I slammed it pretty good too. Although I'm so uncomfortable & nervous being outside in the street where I can be seen & wound up making three trips to get all the 12 packs inside before I realized how much it really hurt. It's all swollen & blue now . . . actually looks worse than it feels though . . . but I can't really knit . . . or write . . . or operate buttons. Plus I got blood on my favourite shirt. :(

Quite a day it's been.

I've got a hole in me pocket . . .

After having NO money for a LONG time, like an extreme return to an addiction, when I finally grabbed ahold of a steady flow, I learned something about myself.

I've never thought of myself as one to care what she looked like. Every time I need new clothes, it's off to good will. And even then, I HATE shopping.

Well . . . Tara now has me babysitting at least once a week for the whole day & pays me $80. Now, don't give me that look. Yes, Maggie is family, but I have been told by many people that I have the patience of a saint - with children, with customers, you name it. I'm the patient type. Maggie is boldly going where no little critter has gone before. She really pushes that patience. Don't get me wrong - I HATE kids but I love her because she's my sister - but honest to god, she is the pickiest human I've ever met with a mind so closed it will suffocate. So we play on the wii until she gets so upset, I fear for the life of my television which is within throwing distance of a frustrating wiimote. The we watch a movie or colour or both. Last time, Tara gave us money to go out to lunch (thank god, because on this diet, I don't have ANYTHING in the house that Maggie likes) & sometimes we play something with just us like twenty questions or we have to name an animal for very letter of the alphabet. Although, last time we got stuck on U . . . unicorn isn't a real animal . . . & at the age of six, "unprocessed steak" really isn't that funny, & she doesn't know who Underdog is.

Anyway, $80 a week. And I'm still knitting & holding onto the hope that it will sell in November. And when the new car comes in in August, I'll try & get a job waiting tables at the Crackpot. They serve crabs (in MD) & liquer. Can you think of a better place to get tips? Um . . . that are rates PG13? Didn't think so. And it's within a nice distance. Especially for the car I'll inherit that gets 12 miles to the gallon. I forsee my checks to be mine & my tips to be gas money . . .

SO, back to my discovery about myself. After a drought, the money I've been getting has been flying right out of my hands. And I thought my mother would scold me, but as it happens, she was actually pretty impressed that I managed to get as much as I did at as high a quality as I did with as little money as I had.

Shoes. I've discovered that shoes are my guilty pleasure. And I thought I wasn't the type. But I am. Now, my mother is aware that people pay between $50 & $120 for one pair of shoes. For about $120, I got six. Not form payless or Walmart, from Newport News. Two pair are as casual as 4 inch heels can get (by the way, they're all 4 inch heels. Not something did on purpose, they were just the ones that looked good). One of those being leather with wingtip detailing & the other a grey suede oxford with a pentagonal heel. Two are more dressy. A simple navy suede pump with a round toe & a simple suede deep teal pump with a thin silver strap across the top of the foot. The final two, I just wanted. Completely unaccepted by societies outside of strip-clubs or costume parties. Still 4 inch heels, but these final two are the exact same style in two different colours. Deep teal & Saphire. BRIGHT vibrant colours. Shiny leather. And a strap around the ankle. Fortunately, people who know me - should they ever see me in these shoes - will see them & laugh because they look good, but they are so out of character for me & they would be something of a symbol of my coming out of mt shell. People who don't know me would instantly label me as a slut. They're those kind of shoes. I have no idea when I'll wear them & expect them to be in a costume of some sort before anything else & I'm thinking someday of getting a green pair to wear just on St. Patrick's day.

Hi, my name is Ripley. And I have a shoe problem.

Everything Else

Because I'm so incredibly behind, I'll just have the two final stories I wanted to tell in one hellishly long post. I've been having trouble getting away to the computer because I'm knitting religiously. I want to have as much done as possible by the end of the summer because I want to start selling around autumn & winter. First of all, because no one will buy anything warm & cozy in the heat of summer. Second of all, because it'll pad out my budget for Christmas gifts. And finally, because people are LOOKING for Christmas gifts & scarves are perfect Christmas gifts & the things I can make the most quickly (next to socks, which I will NOT be selling because they are size-dependant)

So, I finally have some time to sit at the computer because as I was knitting yesterday, my finger split open. This has been happening to me for a few years now - but it usually happens in the winter when the weather is dry. I get dehydrated & the skin on my fingers just split. It's the weirdest thing I've ever seen & no one else that I know of has this problem. But they're like paper cuts, so it's pretty painful. The one finger I use a lot when knitting is the one that split (it actually split in two places) so I put some tape on it & with the tape, it's incredibly difficult to knit. Eventually, I'll go back to knitting at a snail's pace, but for now, I'd rather take some time to put up a post here.

So I've tokld the story of my breaking my toe. After that, rehearsals were very interesting. The FIRST rehearsal after I broke my toe was not a rehearsal scheduled by the director, but just Will & I trying to make sure we had everything down. We were to perform for the directing class on Monday. The class would give our director feedback after we'd left & she would pass it on to us. Will walked through the blocking while I sat down & recited my lines & visualized the blocking. Eric had come in to watch us, but at one point, Will proclaimed him to be too distracting & he left. But he was standing about outside the door & kept bothering us just to bother us. FInally, when Will was up on the chair, the door cracked open & Will violently turned his head toward the door & yelled the most booming "WHAT?!?!" I've ever heard. And it was some stranger at the door!! He ran out & apologized immediately while Eric laughed his @$$ off 5 feet down the hall. And for the rest of the rehearsal, Will would periodically stop the scene to say, "Man, I can't believe I yelled at that total stranger . . . I feel like such a jerk."

Moanday, I had a bit of a scare as John Glover came inches from walking into the directing classroom. His critiques are so blunt & I don't think my ego could have taken it that day. But it turned out that he was at the wrong classroom. I had a hell of a time because I hadn't rehearsed NOT limping & I apparently didn't know how much storming I did in the scene. By the end of the performance I was almost in tears, but in that way where I laugh instead of cry, so I walked out of the room & giggled my eyes teary & took a rest on a bench in the hall.

The actual performance in the showcase open to the pubnlic was amazing. I had no idea a 7 minute little scene could be so satisfying. And one of my favourite things about theatre is audience reaction. Because our first two performances were in front of people who were looking at it critically, we got maybe a chuckle or two. But this was ridiculous. The laughter alone must've added 3 minutes to the scene.Lines we had forgotten were funny got huge laughs. I had a favourite cluster of moments right in the middle of the scene. At one point, I slowly twisted my face into a number of expressions & managed to keep the laughter alive for a VERY long time before I said my next line. And another favourite is a unified vocal response from the audience. Applause & laughter are wonderful, but it was just thrilling - Will asked why he'd even bothered to become a dentist & I replied with "For the same reason as everyone else. You didn't have the grades for medical school." And the entire audience went OOOHHHHHH! So that was fun. It was my first little bit of stage time & for days afterward people were complimenting me on my performance. A few people were impressed when they saw me grab my cane when the scene was over & the two casting directors for the mainstage who were at the showcase gave me wonderful compliments. AND the directing student who directed me in the scene is directing a SHOW next semester. *crosses fingers*

So here's mother's day. I IMed Brian & asked him to invite her over the night before mother's day. My mother checked with me if she could go see Brian the night before mother's day. With my permission, she cleared out around noon the day before mother's day. Now, that was Saturday. Here's Friday - my last class ended at 11am, so my mother took me home on her lunch break. Early before my first class, I went to the pottery sale, which also had jewelry. The thing about it was that it was a sale of things that the students of certain classes - mostly ceramics - had made over the course of the semester. I found a pair of earrings that were tiny little WORKING clothespins. I put them in a little envelope labeled "C47" to be presented. Between the end of my last class & when my mother picked me up, I bought some strawberries from one of the dining halls on campus - with dining points instead of money in order to stretch my budget as far as possible. I kept the strawberries in my purse until my mother dropped me off at home & left. I called Irene, who came over on the scooter & took me to Michale's to buy white chocolate & dark chocolate. Then we went to my house to make these:

And if you look closely two of them have suspenders. Their names are Mark & John & they are ex-lovers . . . & I'll get to that story later.

My mother always calls before she heads home so this time when she called, I told her that I was JUST about to call her. I told her that Irene was working on a project in her Asian Movement class (TRUE) & that she wanted me to watch it & give her feedback (TRUE - just not right then) so, could Irene pick me up & take me to campus? AND since we were going to see something that night, I should just stay on campus & wait for her. I THINK it was Largo Desolato. So I had all the time I wanted to finish up my little strawberries in tuxedos. And then I could leave them in Irene's fridge in her dorm, so my mother wouldn't find them.

Okay, back to Saturday. She cleared our arund noon & I went up to party city & bought a bag of 72 red balloons & a bag of 72 purple balloons. Red & Purple streamer. A platter for the strawberries. Then I picked up Abby who was going to keep me company. Not necessarily help with anything, just keep me from going insane. And as it happened, she had just gotten laid, so not only was she goofy & grinning aking her little help, she was also tuckered out, making her asleep for a large portion of the afternoon. So while I listened to her story of how her night went, nodding my head & smiling as the clueless virgin I am, we went to Wal-Mart & bought the movie The Mask & went to Superfresh & got 12 roses & more strawberries. Then another stop at Michael's to get more chocolate. Yay. more strawberries (the picture is with the TOTAL number of strawberries)

So then I went home & cleaned the house while Abby slept. When she woke up, she was shocked at how clean the house was - good sign. then I made more strawberries & we started talking about them. I told her aboutthe one strawberry with suspenders. I told her there was one streak & I decided to give his suspenders. Because he was big. NOT fat, but big. Like that guy in Everybody Loves Raymond. Then I named him Mark. At one point, I couldn't resist giving someone else suspenders. So I did. And named him John. And Abby pointed out that they were all men. And she starts saying it's a cocktail party just for guys. And just as she's starting to break down the word 'cocktail' I insist that no, they are not all gay, but some are. And John & Mark are ex-lovers & here with trophy boyfriends to make the other jealous. AT which point Abby insisted on making a girl strawberry. ANd she did. She's wearing a nice little dress on the right side of the platter. It laces up the back. Very lovely.

Then I took Abby back to campus around 10 & picked up Irene who stayed with me while I decorated the lamp & entryway with streamers, blew up balloons & finished crocheting a blanket for her. At 3 am with plenty of balloons left to blow up, we drove up to 7/11 for energy drinks & cigarettes (by the way, I have quit smoking. I stopped after the last final exam. And for the record, I don't see the big deal. Haven't craved a one.) We finished blowing up balloons around 4:30 & got a few hours of sleep before I took Irene back to campus around 8. Then, while I waited for my mother, I took pictures.

This was before she got back . . . you can see my energy drink on the table :)

And the blanket that Irene slept with. I offered her a bed upstairs, I swear. She preferred to sleep on the couch.

This was in my mother's room . . . I just presented the blanket on the bed. SHe didn't see it until much much later . . . I was actually out. But she called my cell phone to thank me.

She loved it all.