Archive | September, 2010

Mystery solved-ish!

29 Sep

I’m making this short because my eyeballs are all tired-burny and my new boyfriend, Sherlock Holmes, is calling me from the bedroom. That deerstalker is just so saucy.

You know you want this.

You would think, now that I’m amorously linked to the greatest detective of all time, that I would have found my social security card by now. Alas, I fear that said piece of identification is gone for good. I’m blaming Moriarty.

In good news, the large corporate craft store-who-shall-not-be-named was perfectly happy to accept my passport for my new-hire paperwork.

I also finished a new painting which I’ve been working on for a while. I’ll post pictures soon, as I’m trying to keep its intended recipient in suspense until I can actually get it to her.

 

I suck at playing grown-up.

27 Sep

For the most part, I like to consider myself a functioning adult. Sometimes barely functioning, but it still counts. But sometimes, I fail so massively at being a grown-up that I half-expect the what-the-hell-are-you-doing-with-your-life police (aka my parents) to come bursting in and insist that I go back to fourth grade. Which, in light of recent events would probably be the safest place for me.

It would seem that I have lost my goddamn social security card.

I’m trying to locate it for my new job paperwork. I remember, pre-move putting it in a safe place so that I wouldn’t lose it. I have no fucking idea where that safe place might be. It may well be in a box now hanging out in my parents’ basement (I ended up leaving a lot of stuff at their house that I didn’t mean to. Like all my refrigerator magnets.). Epic fail.

In other news, big congratulations to my pal, Jef Otte, who, while on assignment for Westword, won Denver’s Running of the Gays, a three-block charity run benefiting Art from Ashes. And he won it in a pair of very sensible heels.

The face of functional irresponsibility or, what I want to be when I grow up.

Let’s call this “thing I miss about Denver #1”.

Midnight random funtimes. Funtimes can totally be one word.

27 Sep

My apartment smells like skunk. Like there’s a skunk hiding in the closet, maybe doing some reading while it waits to ambush me. Luckily, skunks aren’t good at ambushing, as (I’m pretty sure) they leak skunk juice when they’re nervous. I’m on to you, skunk.

In other news, has anyone else heard of this?

From their about section: “it’s the hiding, the covering, the embedding of an unknown animal in the heart of the ordinary that evokes the possibility of a handsome shift in perspective.” Pretty sure it’s the coolest idea ever.

In other news, I am now part-time, seasonally employed at a certain chain craft/art supply store. And I have enough super-discount coupons to wallpaper my apartment, so let me know if you want some. I also have an upcoming pseudo-audition to be a wedding singer. I am not even shitting you.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have lyrics to memorize and a skunk to chase out from under my bed.

The thrilling tale of my move to Washington, in which I use the word “awesome” roughly 800 times

22 Sep

Let’s talk for a second about how much I absolutely adore my little brother.

How could anyone not be in awe of this person?

Up until a couple of weeks before I left Denver for Spokane, I was convinced that I would be making the 20+ hour trek all by lonesome. But Kevin, wonderful, amazing, fabulous brother, informed me that he’d come with.

So, after an amazing going-away party Saturday, and an incredibly stressful, hungover Sunday in which I finished packing and cleaning my soon-to-be-old apartment (at which point I’m pretty sure I dislocated my shoulder scrubbing the bathroom floor), I retired to my parents’ house for some much-needed sleep. I didn’t get there until almost 3 am, and my dear sweet kick-ass brother had already made up the hide-a-bed in the guest room for me. How awesome is that?!

This pretty much set the tone for the rest of our incredibly long, sleep-addled cross-country adventure. We didn’t leave until the following afternoon, dog and trailer in tow. And never once, not when we had to stop fifteen minutes after leaving so my mom could meet up with us to give me my laptop (I’d left it on their coffee table), not when we got stuck in rush hour traffic leaving Denver, not when I kept trying to give him “helpful” hints about trailer-driving, not even when we nearly hit a huge dead elk doe driving through northern Wyoming at 4am, did Kevin show the least bit of impatience or resentment.

We made it into Montana in time to watch the sun come up, listened to lots of loud music, peed on the side of the highway, and drank lots and lots of coffee/Red Bull. We finally made it to Spokane around 4:30 Tuesday afternoon. 23 and a half hours, straight through. By the time we actually arrived at Kate and Shane’s, we were exhausted and slap-happy. And then the real fun started.

Around the time we were hitting Bozeman, Kate was getting a call from my landlord asking her to inform me that he’d redone the hardwood floors in my apartment, and that they weren’t dry yet, but that we were welcome to go over to check. We did. They weren’t. So I did what any rational, grown up-type person would do. Completely freak out about having nowhere to put all the crap that was currently languishing in a trailer due back to UHaul the next day.

Solution? My landlord hooked me up with a place that’s

bigger, cheaper, and in a better neighborhood. Pictures coming when I feel less lazy.

See? I toldja I’d post something longer.

Just in case you’re wondering…

21 Sep

…why I haven’t posted something new in almost two months, it’s because I haven’t had internet at home, and I’ve pretty much been hungover ever since I moved to Washington.
Longer post coming, but in the meantime, have you seen this guy?


Look how happy they are!