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Friday, Apr. 04, 2003 / 7:04 p.m. ~Cake, and Birthdays, and 'The Men' Come Again to Fix the A/C~ I was going to head out after work to see "Phone Booth", sort of a tentative plan I made with myself, for myself, but now it's almost the last thing I feel like doing. I came home and automatically pulled off my way too tight Levi's 501s and put on my lovely Target light cotton pajama pants, the yellow ones with the sheet-like cotton fabric, so comfy, and a v-neck Hanes t-shirt. No, I'm not brand conscious. Not one bit.... I got the new EW in the mail, as is usual per Fridays, and the cover story is on Pop Culture, a Pop Culture Quiz! Yeehaw! Or Yeeeha! I love pop culture. Pop Culture. It deserves capital letters. All I've eaten today: a Nutri Grain Cereal Bar (no, I'm NOT brand conscious, I'll say it again - sarcasm), a cookies and Snickers cookie bar thingie (Listerine had left a virtual plethora of them on my desk, in a sort of starburst pattern, this morning, as a little Birthday gift to me, surrounding a CD single of some song from that new Kate Hudson movie, some 'not for resale' CD - I gave most of the cookies and Snickers cookie bar thingies away), and a piece of carrot cake, small container of vanilla ice cream on the side - part of the requisite Birthday celebration at work. I knew this was the day, as Sunday is THE day, but I asked that they not decorate the cube, and they complied, shock of shocks. Very low key. A card, unsigned, from H., the Supervisor, along with the promised $5 bill she plans to give everyone on her/his birthday. The CD single, Snickers cookies all around, and the cake and ice cream after lunch, along with card signed by everyone but Jeff and the remaining temp, odd. They sang, the R&B version of "Happy Birthday", while I stood uncomfortably watching the candles burn, and alternately staring at Jeff who stood with his arms folded tightly across his chest, scowl on his reddened face. He hates me. I called him an 'ignorant redneck', just a week ago, it's no wonder, but dude, don't hold a grudge, it's my Birthday. Nope. Didn't eat cake, didn't eat ice cream, didn't speak one word to me. Didn't sing, hell no. Fucking dick. I had to recruit cake eaters from around the site, the cake was HUGE. Please, have some cake, please! And I still came home with a big chunk. Yum. Loves me some carrot cake. But the damage is done. I'm unfriendly, I'm a bitch, I'm a hater, I'm a misanthropic hermit who only encounters people in a social atmosphere, i.e. 'work', because I need money to live. So, they don't care for me too much. Oh, sure, Penelope gave me a hug on her way out, and Veronica too, because they're like that, and Veronica is on her way to NYC all next week (lucky woman), so I wished her a good trip. And without Jeff to talk to anymore, and Quincey out the entire week seeing to her family after her father's death, well, I was a bit more chatty than usual with the womens. They're not so bad, when you're in the mood. But I'm not exactly 'liked', I know this. I get what I give. Karma. Kukla asked about my plans, and I dodged and made things up, told her I couldn't go have a drink because I'm going to see "Phone Booth", and really I intended to, but once I change clothes, forget it. And I said maybe I'll go to the Thrashers' last home game on Sunday, but I doubt it. I hate going to games alone, and on my birthday I'll feel especially pitiful. And of course when I checked my mail at home after work I thought, Okay, let's see who loves me, who sent a card, and no one, of course. Thank god for the one I got from Amy a couple days ago, she never forgets, every Christmas, every Birthday, she's my buddy, I can count on her, after some 12 years. We met working at the bookstore, as did Hermione and I, but Hermione is scattered lately, and since she moved out West, almost incommunicado. Just the occasional email, sent to a LIST. I hate that crap. Amy is not in this state either, but she finds time to drop a card in the post. So, no worries, I've set myself up for this. If you're not nice to people they won't be nice to you, that's how it works. And on your Birthday you will be alone. Makes sense. At this point I don't want to be with anyone on the actual day, that's MY day anyway, and I'll always have memories of my mom and her Duncan Hines cakes she'd bake, the homemade frosting, or the coconut cakes she'd buy at the store, and the candles and the song, sung loudly, and all the little gifts, lots of things to make me feel special, a big dinner, the whole family, including the asshole brother who, like Jeff at work, HATED it when I got any attention at all. Ahhh, memories. Grrrr.... My apartment's a/c is broken again (it was September last year this same thing happened and it was 'fixed'), and the pollen outside is unbelievable, except for the fact that it's unbelievable EVERY SINGLE YEAR at the this time. Still, somehow we forget about it, and every year when we have to use our windshield wipers to clear it away so we can see to drive, we remark, "Look at ALL the pollen!", so I didn't want to open my windows at home. I still don't. In fact, I slept with the bedroom window open last night just so I wouldn't die (okay, it's not THAT hot, but I'm on the second floor, it's warm in here, around 85 last night), but now, nope, they're closed, way closed, as closed as I can get them. I called the apartment office first thing this a.m., and I guess 'the men' were here while I was at work. I like to ask the cats, "Were the men here? How many were there? Were they nice to you? Was it fun? Did you have fun with the men?", when it's probably just one or the other of two manintenance men. And the cats never answer, no they do not. But it is Gladys' Birthday today (Happy Birthday, 12 year old girl!) and I could only think what an exciting day it would be for her. Yeah, whatever, I know. Big deal. Alas, 'the men' need a 'part' to fix the a/c so it blows cold air instead of warm, which will not arrive until Monday or Tuesday, so let's hope it rains away all the pollen tonight or tomorrow (it's s'posed to) and cools off. It's about 80 in here now. Yep. I just want things to work, is this too much to ask? Nothing lasts forever, everything falls apart eventually, this is life. I'm calm. I was pissed last night when I couldn't have cool air and had to open the window and let in all that YELLOW, but I'm fine now. Comfy. Cozy. Yes, it's warm, but it could be worse. Emissions inspection tomorrow. Must. Auto tag office on Monday, with emissions inspection certificate. (this is just to reinforce the importance, a reminder of sorts, to me, pay no attention, and to think positively that the car will pass, please, oh please, oh please) Antiwar march, thinking of going, perhaps not. A large gay and lesbian contingent shall be there, and that would make it worthwhile, just because. Sunday, the DAY, perhaps hockey, perhaps not. A dinner out? Hmmm.... Expensive takeout in? A movie? "Phone Booth"? So many possibilities. Now, must eat something along the lines of 'real' food, to offset all the sugar. More possibilites. It's Birthday weekend. I need to go cuddle Gladys, ask her again about 'the men' who came to look at the a/c today. I've finally gotten to the point where I don't mind them coming in my apartment while I'm at work, a very big grownup step for me. Just fix things, that's all I ask. I tidy a bit first and don't worry, anymore. Cost of the War in Iraq
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