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Music Today: "I am a Creep" Radiohead

Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.
- Pueblo Blessing

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Saturday, Apr. 15, 2006 - 12:26 a.m.

Cost of the War in Iraq
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WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.

A Day of Crying, some Radiohead and America

I am so tired. exhausted. But it is um Eastra or something like that. I know it is since i have chocolates and stuff from my mom in a little box.

And so I rented a couple movies, the names of which escape me. Actually that is not true. One is called "Next Generation" or something like that, and it is with the girl from "Bend it like Beckham" and it is a story of being Indian in Britain as a teen or somesuch. And the other one is a Swedish one called Yellow or Curious: Yellow. I suppose I should google them. Maybe I'll watch them and then write a review and give a link then. How is that for a compromise.

Anyways, yeah, foreign film night. The cool thing is the Yellow one is in Swedish with subtitles so I can get a little swedish brushup.

And I bought tostitos for the first time in ages, and avocados, to have guacamole. Heck if artsyguy can be eating sushi on the ski slopes with his kids, their mom, and his ex before me, I can splurge on guacamole and chips in bed with a movie.

And no, radiogurl, he was not just in it "for the sex". Heck if he was, he should have turned down the sex less often. He kept on adlibbing reasons why a couple times a week is more than enough at our age, even at completely pointless times. He was possibly in for the cuddles and the ego strokes, and the wild fantastical idealistic idea that maybe a girl would love and stay with him, and well, that is mostly what I was in for too, so I cannot really fault him on that. I just think he is a bit too depressed/fucked up/on the rebound/whatever, leading to confusion and ambivalence. A diagnosis entirely concordant with his behaviour and also what he says himself.

Ok, well, yeah, I have been bumming. Big big time. I have been a good girl and only beating myself up with words, and leaving the physical bashing for the punching bag in the basement. That is a good thing for my physique, non??

And I wish I were punching on the contractor. Who never arrives when he says he will, always either earlier or two to three hours later. So I am not ready, or rush around to get here then sit and wait and THEN when I think he would be DONE, he arrives and I have to sit here and wait some more.

Tonight he let himself in, and I think he forgot to lock the door. Anyways, it turned darn easily when I opened it, so I said "hi there!" when I entered, but he was gone.

And making more of a mess in the bathroom. He ended up putting about a half inch of drywall plaster or whatever it is called "compound" I guess, in the corner, level with the door frame: "It'll just be like your door frame is wider by two inches on that side, right to the corner" he says. Yeah right. And then wondered why 24 hours later it wasn't dry yet to continue. Ass. He said not to touch it, I'd ruin it. Stupid ass. I took a 2" scraper, scraped it flat with the new gyproc we put in the corner, used my electric drill to put some drywall screws in further (why the hell have them higher than the gyproc? oh yeah, he was planning to put a half inch of drywall compound over them), and then I did my first plaster taping job in my life. I watched him last night. I applied compound, bent the tape, pushed it into the corner, smoothed it out, applied more compound with the 2" scraper. Looks nice and flat, and I have a corner of the room AND a door frame that doesnt have the wood merging into the plaster.

Sheesh. What am I paying him for? Oh yeah, the sanding. If he doesn't put it on so thick it never dries.

I am fed up. He's a nice guy and a friend of a friend. But so far he has used a corningware pot to catch water and wet plaster and left it hiding under wet towels and tools (I nearly threw a hammer onto the pile), ruined my broom sweeping up sopping wet old plaster and sand, and now he seems to have used my bucket for a stepping stool, since it was upside down on the floor, and where you pour water out it is totally broken. Time to start making a list and charging him. Funny how he can find the bucket when he needs a stool (which was on the floor right next to him), but can find corningware I eat my breakfast out of when he needs a bucket (which was on the floor right next to him). Maybe I should give some sort of object identification test to contractors before I hire them. And ask if they own their own broom and dustpan, 2" trowels and plaster spatulas, and one of them vacuum sanders (the guys who fixed my kitchen water damage from last summer had one, and left the house pretty clean, AND had their own plastic to put down on the floor, unlike this guy who just wipes his feet on all my carpets and lets huge hunks of plaster and concrete fall down onto my varnished wood kitchen floor). I bought him one of them vacuum sanders today :hooks to your shopvac... and yes, this contractor doesn't have a shop vac either... he is using mine. I ordered him to use it after I caught him shaking (my) tarp out onto the back lawn with huge hunks of plaster and plaster dust and sawdust. Let's see... one huge furry dog and two overactive cats lie out there and then come running into the kitchen, and the cats onto my bed. And plaster NEVER goes away. It just gets wet so you can track it in, then dry and dusty so you can track it in. It doesn't really decompose as in go away, but it does get moldy.

OK. end story for now of nice guy contractor pain in the ass guy who promised me I would not be left a single day without water in the bathroom (been 4 days now), and that it would absolutely all be done by today. (it is not near being done... more plastering, sanding, installing light fixtures, installing the sink to be done).

I just realized that in this Mom easter care package, these are no measly normal jellybeans but indeed jelly bellies. mmmm. I hate to say but I like the popcorn flavour!!

OK, that reminds me of the movies.

I guess I'll go watch at least the swedish one. Ja ja!!

hej da!

ps. thanks to everyone who left comments last entry.

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previous meanderings - future past

Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009


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