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Thursday, Sept. 12, 2002 / 7:22 p.m. ~Page 23, Bottom Left~ I called her back, Raya, the tattoo artist who did the butterfly on my leg, because it was so nice of her to call me to let me know the picture of that tattoo is in the November issue of Tattoo magazine. She could've emailed - if she has my phone number, she still has my email address too. But she called. From Arizona. That was nice. And she heard Moby on my answering machine ("Speak to me baby, put your mouth close to mine...") and left a long message anyway. So yeah, I called her to thank her. I said, "Is this Raya?", she said, "Yes", I said, "This is _____."... pause... "You called me and left me a message about my tattoo being in Tattoo magazine...?", and I stuttered my way through it. Why? Why should I have been tongue tied? SHE called ME, yesterday. That was only yesterday. But I assume she doesn't remember me, that I have to jump through hoops to identify myself. I hate calling people. I hate my phone. I hate all phones. I hate talking on phones. I hate answering phones. Most of all, I hate picking up a telephone and calling someone. Especially someone I don't really know very well, or not at all. Unless I am at work and I am calling somene who is also at work. Speaking of, Mark called me today, at work, and that was nice. We hadn't talked in a couple weeks. He caught me at my caffeinated worst, very gabby, and he was patient and nice as I blabbed. Blabby and gabby. Funny. I got up earlier than usual, 7:30 instead of 7:50, or is it usually 8:00? Either way, it was early and I had an hour to get ready instead of what I calculated is normally 45 minutes. It made a big difference. Of course, the point of all this was that the maintenance guy was going to get here 'first thing', which he'd said would be after he got to the Office, which is 8:30 usually. So I planned to be all dressed and ready for work at 8:30, then I'd greet him, we'd talk about the A/C and I'd putter while he worked. I'd clean, or I'd watch TV, or I'd try to read, or something. Then I'd go to work when he was finished. I started by washing dishes. Then I thought what if he is here a long time and has to pee? So I cleaned the toilet. Did not put the new toilet seat on yet. That requires tools, and much mental preparation. Don't ask why, it just feels like a 'project'. Besides, I have to figure out what to do with the old one. Garbage, I suppose. But what about when I move? Won't I want to take my fancy one with me? Won't I want to switch it back out? I won't want to buy a new one just to leave behind. Hey, this is the first toilet seat I've ever bought, and we know how old I am, right? So, I was in waiting mode, 8:30. And I waited. Thinking any minute now. I always pass the maintenance guys on my way in to work, they're always outside the office, or wandering on in, their pickup trucks outside, and that's at 8:45. Not today. I saw a truck pull up (I can see the office from my porch) outside the office, but no one ever came this way. I figured they were having coffee, getting work orders, whatever. At 10:00 I finally called. Oh, they're having a Maintenance Meeting, she says. 'Vicki', this time. Hell, yesterday it was 'Sheila', remember? Are they temps? Did the regular woman, Effie, quit? Around 10:15 he shows up. Meanwhile, the A/C was cold last night, it worked great. Too cold. I turned it way down, or up actually. This morning, especially after my shower, I turned it back down. It started blowing warm air again. I was hoping he would get here in time to feel it. He walked in and asked if I just turned it on..... No, it's been on all morning and it's blowing warm air. A lightbulb lit up over his head and he zoomed around, checked the breaker box, said he knew what it was, got on the walkie to talk to 'Dean' (today I got 'Johnny' - Johnny who noticed my vinyl records and commented his kids don't know what they're for, they don't understand, and he has promised to take out his 'record player' to play them for them - he dug that I still have mine too - of course. I have a turntable too.), and he told me it was the motor outside. It would have to be replaced. It wasn't spinning. No problem. He left, and I thought he'd be right back. I got online and watched Houseguests sleeping on the BB3 live feed, read recaps. I waited. And waited. I'd told D., the Supervisor, I'd be in at 11:00, so I called her at 11:15 and said I'd head in. And I did. Johnny said I didn't need to stay, they have a key, and in that moment I totally trusted him. He just moved so fast, and I've seen him around for at least a couple years. I never knew his name, I've never really talked to him, maybe once or twice by accident, if he was in the Office while I was paying my rent, I guess. I always thought he just sort of stared at me, when I'd be more comfortable if he broke the ice with a wave, or head nod, or anything. I can be so fucking shy. But he seems knowledgeable, competent, moves quickly, looks me in the eye when I'm telling him something. I liked him. Plain and simple. I left the apt in his care, left a note on the door saying to please not let the cats out, I'd be back at 1:15 for lunch (doesn't hurt to give a time frame), and when I came back it was fixed. The note gone. Not bad. I was glad it was him instead of the guy I talked to on the phone yesterday. He didn't seem to believe me when I told him it was blowing warm air, he said he did, but I could tell he didn't. Probably why he wasn't the one who came by this morning, he probably let Johnny do it thinking it would be a hassle to have to 'deal' with me. (How's that for paranoid?) Listerine has been really supportive of me during my A/C stress. When I told her about it yesterday her eyes got huge, her jaw dropped, she sat down. I'm not kidding. "You have no A/C?! What are you gonna do?!!!!" I told her I lived without for 4 years, a long time ago, and I did it. It can be done. It's not fun, but yes. So I've kept her abreast of all the phone calls, the visits, the maintenance guys, etc., etc. and she has been very compassionate and..... nice. Gives me the shivers, how about you? I don't put a lot of stock in it, but it's nice to be able to turn to someone at work, anyone really, and say, "Hey, my A/C is broken!", and get the desired comfort and support. I tried Penelope before her, and she said nothing I remember. Going in to work at 11:30 was grand. I joked with everyone that those were my new hours, 11:30 to 6:00, and for a moment Veronica believed me, it was all over her face. I couldn't let her keep that expression long, so I told her the truth. But it was very funny. Phones were down, up, down, switching servers, back to old one, back to new one, up, down, and I told the new boy it's not always like this. It can be, it has been, but right before he started it was smooth sailing, all systems were go, until he started..... he takes full credit. I volunteered to leave early, but things worked out, so I had to stay. And at lunch I rushed home to check the A/C, gave the cats big hugs (they've had a lot of excitement too, you know?, men running in and out, and I love to joke with them, "Was the man here? Was he nice to you?", and they rub up against me, meowing all over the place like something big and scary is now over and all is well!), and made a beeline for Borders to get the Tattoo magazine (they put it on hold for me when I called this a.m.). That's the November issue of Tattoo magazine, everybody. I'm on page 23 (my calf is anyway), bottom left. That's my tattoo! Raya took the picture right after she did it, so it's sort of inflamed, but you know, she wanted a shot, and tonight on the phone she said people always tell her they'll send her pictures and they never do, so now she takes her own, even if the ink is still running. So to speak. We discussed a new tattoo for me, something to go around my ankle below the butterfly. I will let her draw something. I seriously trust her. I think she thinks I'm weird, but that's my paranoia. I know I am a customer to her, but she does remember me clearly. She remembers the other tatttoos I got at the Convention - that was impressive. So, I will see her next month at another Convention here, and get an ankle band. Exciting, huh? I might look in some books in the meantime, get some ideas of what I want, see if I find something I like better than just letting her draw for me. I never thought I'd be like this, just leaving it up to the artist, but that's how her art strikes me. I like the originality of it, knowing that no one could possibly have it because it just came out of her head. For me alone. We'll see. But hey, something to look forward to, which is always nice. Speaking of..... T minus 7 minutes 'til "Big Brother 3", the special 2 hour edition. Whoo hoo! It was pre-empted last Saturday for football (fucking football!) and on Wednesday, last night, for the 9/11 festivities (which reminds me, I cut out an EXCELLENT cartoon from the free weekly today, it's all about the ridiculousness of the media coverage for the anniversary of 9/11 - very dead on, to the point, etc. If I can find a way to scan it or find it online and post it here, I will). So, this is it. Tonight's the night! It's been a whole week, and this is normally a three times a week show. Can you feel the excitement? Okay. My last few entries are really documentation entries. It's weird. It's like I feel compelled to write all the drively details. Cost of the War in Iraq
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