Stranger in a Strange Land

I'm doing better.

Last night Velocibadgergirl and I were accosted at the mall* by two young lads selling cosmetics from a kiosk. They were dressed all in black and did their best to sound Italian or something. We don't wear make-up, so we politely kept walking. The amazing part is when I didn't yell "Can't you see I'm OK with being unpretty? What about my face makes you think I'd be at all interested in buying overpriced crap from two metrosexual posers with fake accents?!?"

See? I'm improving my social skills!


*Icky!

No News is Stupid

Yesterday I happened* to notice that the first interviews at The University will be in two weeks. The last I heard my application passed the first of three reviews, and that was the first of the month. Surely, I thought, I will hear something today.

I was RIGHT.

As I drove my brother to the doctor's office my phone started buzzing, and I didn't recognize the number. "Hello?" I answered, witty as usual.
"Hi, this is Susan with The University."
"Hi! Hi? How are you?"
"Fine, and you?"
Paaaauuuuuuusssssse. "Oh, I'm OK. Hi!" I totally sounded like a tool. My brother agrees.
"I'm calling..."
You're calling to set up my interview! I know it! This is going to be a day I eternally remember as a pivotal event of my adulthood! JOY! Oh damn, I'm drooling because my heart is in my throat with excitement! YES! I'm winning at life! I thought.
"...because your SAT scores weren't included on your high school transcript. We're going to need that before your application's third review."
Wait, what? You are supposed to be scheduling my interview. You are supposed to be making my life better! Why are you not doing your job? You are fired at talking to me! And I am mentally shaking my fist in rage at you! Take that! "Thanks for telling me. I'll contact my high school and straighten this up today or tomorrow."
"Great, bye."
"Nice talking with you, Susan."

The salt in the wound is that I specifically asked about having my SAT scores included when I requested that transcript. And then? I called my high school? And they had closed twenty minutes before Susan called. Just thinking about it gets my rage fist all shaky.



*Actually, I have been counting the days like I have obsessive-compulsive disorder real bad.

Sweet Home

I have been a home-owner (or HOMO-ner, as brother 2 puts it) for a couple of weeks now, and the house is beginning to reveal its secrets. OK, maybe not so much "revealed" as pried out. MacGyver has the demolition of the bathroom well under way. He's done such a good job that you probably wouldn't think that it was ever a bathroom.

The first secret he discovered is the bathroom is nine years younger than the house, evidenced by the dates scrawled onto a board in the wall he tore out. Another wall came down, and he found 13 inches of dead space. An inspection of what remained revealed that the windows in the mud room are load-bearing. My favorite bit is when he found an 8'x8'x14' cistern under the floor, half full of water. He's going to install a pump and we can water the FutureGarden with it.

Also? There's a railroad spike under the basement stairs holding them level, there's a screw jack where some foundation should be, the stove hits three junction boxes before it meets the breaker box, there's asbestos tile under two layers of linoleum in the kitchen, and some of the walls had thousands of mouse bones inside. Lovely!

With luck, we will move in before November, when our five bedroom house has a toilet.

Taking 10 Deep Breaths

It is easy to be nice when life is going well, when you aren't in pain, scared, and frustrated. It is easy to be kind to someone who appreciates you, who is pleasant and agreeable.

A person's character is revealed when the situation is tough.

I'm trying really, really hard to have good character.