2005-07-03 @ 11:57 p.m.
I spent most of Saturday enjoying the coolest day we’ve had in about 2 weeks. It stayed in the 70’s, there was no humidity, and I didn’t sweat from every orifice like a fat guy running in a three legged race at a picnic. It was great! I drove out to the Parkway and took a long walk. Did I mention it was National Stupid People Day? Yeah. They let them all out to enjoy the weather too, it seems.
I’m walking along behind 4 teenagers...3 girls and a guy with his pants 4 inches below his butt crack. We’re walking along THE PARKWAY. The guy said, “Where’s the Parkway? Have we gotten there yet?” The girls all start giggling. “We’re on it, dude.” Guy:”Are you sure? I thought it was near the lake. (editor’s note: 8 feet to the right of the teenagers is a huge 30 mile round lake). Girls giggling again: “Dude, its right there. Guy: “What? Girls: “The lake!” Guy (looking to the right): “Oh, yeah right. But where’s the Parkway?”
On the way back, I was walking behind two women with baby carriages. There are houses all along the Parkway overlooking the Lake. Most of the them have large yards and lots of windows. First Woman: “None of those houses have very good views.” The other women didn’t seem to understand, as I didn’t, because they all have great views. First woman: “They have windows, but they don’t face the right direction.” Again, I swung my head towards the houses because all the windows are directly facing the lake. Hmmmm. Second Woman mumbles something. First Woman: “And none of them have any yards either.” I look back to see that every single house has at least 200-400 ft. stretches of lawns behind their houses and I start to wonder...is this woman on crack or what? I never did figure out what her problem was other then a severe case of stupidiosity.
I did take some time to sit lakeside on one of the benches and for about 3.6 minutes I thought that the Lochness Monster had somehow escaped Scotland and had made its way to our Lake for my personal viewing pleasure. Why? Because I kept seeing this little brownish head breaking the surface of the water rather lazily. At first I thought it was a snake, because I’ve seen snakes at our lake. In fact, one of them followed me last summer as I walked along the shore. At least it appeared that he did. He kept looking up at me and winking rather salaciously and I kept getting this really strong Garden of Eden vibe from him. Damn snake. Stop it. Just stop it.
But this creature kept sliding in and out of the water. Sometimes I would see his nose poke up through the water. Sometimes I would just see part of his back glint as he appeared to momentarily writhe in the water. It was so intriguing. I hadn’t slept much the night before, so I started to wonder....am I dreaming this? Or is it really happening. Because all this was taking place in the shaded part of the water and it seemed to be in slow motion. So I finally got off the park bench and looked down into the water. DAMN. Getting a unobstructed view from above, I quickly realized it was a bunch of trout swimming around in the waters near the edge of the shore. Ha! You idiot witty. And here you thought it was like a magical snake or the Lochness Monster.
Like I said, National Stupid People Day.
Finally, late in the afternoon, my mom called. “I’ll be over in 10 minutes to pick you up to go look at that apartment. Don’t get on the computer.” So I’m sitting and waiting. We’re supposed to be there at 6. It’s 5:10. It’s a 25 minute drive once she gets here. We’re good. At 5:28 I get a frantic call. “My car won’t start!! You have to come get me!!” Arghhh! I hate being late for anything. And the guy had said he wanted to meet us at 6 p.m. SHARP Gulp. I’m guessing he’s kinda anal too. Two anals, don’t make a right. So I had to jump in my car and race to get my mom. Did I mention she lives in the total opposite direction of the apartment? 15 minutes north? And of course my car is weeping copious amounts of oil, and I don’t have time to check it before I leave. So I go get her. I don’t see her waiting at her apartment sidewalk, so I lay on the horn. Damn it! But she’s sitting in her dead car waiting. I’m a mega-bitch all the way over there. My car is doing this weird shimmying at every stoplight and she’s saying, “I hope your engine isn’t seizing up because you’re out of oil.” I remind her THATS the reason she was going to drive us there. And then she starts bitching about how fast I’m going and telling me that there are probably cops hiding in all the bushes and culverts and that I will probably get a speeding ticket. Unfortunately, even though I was in a hurry, I was only going about .001 mph over the speed limit. She was convinced, however, that I was very close to breaking the sound barrier.
Just your usual witty/mom outing.
I was also nervous about meeting the guy. I was trying to do some deep breathing exercises in the car, inbetween worrying about my car failing or blowing up or getting caught in the cross hairs of some rogue cop who wouldn’t like my bumpersticks (“The more you disapprove, the more fun it is for me” and my peace symbol). As it turned out, even though I had to drive north and then drive south, I actually got there at the correct time. But in the meantime my mom had called the guy and changed the appointment to 6:15 SHARP, so we ended up having to wait around for 15 minutes. My mom then felt the need to predict how he would look. Gray hair, gold rimmed glasses, driving an SUV. Pretty safe bet for a property owner in a yuppie village. She was right on everything except the SUV. I too, did dress yuppie village appropriate in my khaki slacks, black leather sandals, black top, and Calvin Klein sunglasses. Yeah, I was working it. I refuse to look like a Food Stampian. Not much I can do about the way my car looks. But I can definitely dress the part when necessary.
So we went up and looked at the apartment. My mom had to immediately mention that it smelled like hair permanent solution as we were walking up the stairs (its up over a beauty salon). She usually likes to ingratiate herself to people by saying unusual, amusing things. The apartment was HUGE though!! My entire apartment could fit into the living room. It was very old. It kinda looked like the 1930s. The kitchen was large with lots of cabinets, and a full sized fridge (as an apartment dweller, that’s not something you see very often). It had two bedrooms, one of which had a closet with a staircase up to an attic. But it was really the living room that I kept marveling over. It had hardwood floors and it looked like I could put on a theatre production in it, at maybe 20X22. My current living room is only about 11X14 (no....really!! And I have a couch, a piano, a chair, a huge bookcase, a coffee table, a corner table, a library table, my TV, a smaller book case, a stereo system and all my framed artwork on the floor. Can you say, Tripping over stuff?). About the only bad thing was the bathroom. It looked like Ozzy Osbourne puked in it. It had this strange, mottled carved 3-D shiny black painted walls and some really old gold linoleum. It was there my mom had to do another one of her “Aren’t I amusing?” observations by pointing out that the tub there was a steeping tub. The guy just looked at her like...ok. But she kept going on and on, about the history of steeping tubs and how she had once had one in one of her houses and spent like $2000 buying it and then only used it once and blah, blah, blah. And I’m standing in the black shiny satanic 3-D bathroom wondering what rituals had taken place there, and why was my mom talking about something so incredibly unimportant and blocking the doorway, when I would really like to see the rest of the apartment.
I don’t know about you, but when I look at an apartment, I like to LOOK at it. And I really didn’t get to yesterday. I was only in the apartment for about 9.5 minutes and 5 minutes was spent talking about steeping tubs in the bathroom. I can barely remember anything I saw. The guy showing it wasn’t very exuberant. When I brought up the subject of Section 8, he said that he didn’t think the owner would take it. I had thought my mom had talked to him about it and it was more favorable. It wasn’t so much that ewww, you’re one of those creepy Section Eight white trash types, (which I’m not), but more of a case of, if there’s something wrong during the inspection, I don’t want to fix it. I so wanted this to be the one, especially with its ballroom sized living room, where I could have painted and played the piano and not had to worry about noisy neighbors like I usually deal with.
My mom did call two more rentals today...both still out in the yuppie village. One of them is in an apartment complex a couple of streets over from where I used to live. I’ve actually looked at them before. They’re a little small, but they do have a screened in porch, they take section 8, they take kitties, its directly across the street from my favorite library, its next to a creek with trees and greenery, it has 3 closets instead of one, it has a fireplace (!!) and it has an onsite laundry which would be really nice.
My mom also called another place which is up over a house. I actually drove by it today when I went out to Round Lake for a hike and was startled at how fabulous the house looked. Its one of the old, historic type houses in the village, with beautiful gardens and it even has a garage. This village, by the way, produced one of our early American Presidents and he grew up in the same block as this house. I’m a little overwhelmed at the prospect of looking at that though, but we’re going to see it Tuesday afternoon before I see “A”.
And speaking of seeing “A”, right after my mom and I looked at this apartment, we had a quick meal at Uno’s and then headed over to Target to look for an answering machine for my mom. As we rounded the corner to head towards the electronics (I had to guide my mom there, since she doesn’t know the store, and what a nice daughter I am, I didn’t even stop and pee, even though I was totally desperate to.) I saw this familiar fuzzy head with his back turned towards me, but as soon as I heard his voice talking to some people, I immediately knew it was “A”. He has a distinctive voice. So I just gently touched his back when I went by and said “Hi” and he smiled. Its always weird to see your shrink out of context, especially wearing shorts, sneakers and a red Boston Red Sox tee-shirt. I later dropped him an e-mail and commented on the fact that he was wearing a red shirt at Target...you know, the same color as all the sales associates wear. I told him I nearly asked him where the hand towels were.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty