rebecca_in_blue: (dropped jaw)
I haven't posted in a while because I've been kinda busy. Lately I feel like my phone has been exploding with calls and texts, mostly from the Jews, and mostly asking me for favors. Can I help Sassy Jewish Grandfather #1 practice his lines for his latest play? Can I bring/make something for the dinner after services this Friday? Can I baby-sit again? Can I spend the night at the hospital with a sick lady from my congregation? Holy Moses! I'm tempted to smash my phone if it goes off one more time, and considering how many problems it's been giving me lately, that wouldn't be a huge loss. I need a new one, but I'd rather gouge my eyes out than sign another contract with AT&T.

Like a fool, I said yes to more of those questions than I should have, which is why I spent last night on a reclining chair in the hospital. First of all, I hate hospitals. They're very uncomfortable places for me; they make me think of Dad and Grandma and shots. Secondly, the lady I was staying with was very elderly, confused, and uncomfortable, so it was a pretty stressful night for both of us, and I wasn't able to get a lot of sleep before I had to go to work this morning. Ugh! I also bumped into my mom, which was weird. I was half-awake and had a conversation with her around 3am that I don't really remember now.

I honestly don't understand why they asked me to stay with this lady. (Actually, I do; it was because Sassy Jewish Grandparents #1 volunteered me for it. I'll take care of them later.) I barely even know her, and I'm not the most patient person. I guess it's the same question that got me roped in teaching Hebrew school -- "If not the least qualified person for the job, then who?" Oh, well, I know I shouldn't complain. It's over for me now, but the sick lady is still stuck in the hospital and could be for some time.

I missed seeing yesterday's new NCIS live since I was at the hospital, but I watched it online tonight. What a packed episode!

Notes on 10x11 "Shabbat Shalom," the first NCIS of 2013! )

I'm going to cry tears of joy over getting to sleep in my own bed tonight.
rebecca_in_blue: (worried eyes)
The last few days have felt pretty crappy. After school on Friday, I took "Briana" to the lakefront and we fed the ducks and splashed around in the fountain. That sounds like fun in theory, doesn't it? So why did she seem bored to death, yet again? Too often I feel like I'm forcing her to do stuff she doesn't want to. I need to call our caseworker at Big Brothers Big Sisters and discuss this.

However, in my defense, as much as I might suck at doing stuff with her, at least when we make plans, I stick to them. Props to me for that. Woo-hoo.

After work on Saturday, I went straight to the temple for Havdalah and Selichot services. We took the regular bima and Torah covers off and put up the special white-and-gold ones for the High Holy Days. There was also a little oneg with cheese, fruit, cookies, and of course, apples and honey. Yum! After that, I drove over to Mom's house because Adam and I had made plans to go to the movies that evening. I was looking forward to it -- which was my first mistake, children. When I got there, this was our conversation:

Adam: Well, maybe next time, when they're showing something better. [I know where he gets this from.]
Me: I thought you said you wanted to see it.
Adam: Well, I don't really like that movie.
Me: Then why did you say yes when I asked you if you wanted to go?
Adam: Uh...

Ordinarily, I don't think this would've upset me that much, but it came at a bad time. My family has a habit of cancelling on me like this, and I'm starting to suspect that they actually don't care about me at all or that I'm incredibly repulsive and no one ever wants to spend time with me (which would also explain why no one ever hires me and why Briana is always so bored with me). I know, I know, I'm whining now, but it really does bother me because I have few no friends and there are things I'd like to get out and do, but going it solo is hard for me. (Guess I better get used to that, since I'll be doing it for the rest of my life.) That's one reason why I joined Big Brothers Big Sisters.

Speaking of which, the #1 rule they give you when you join that agency is this: "Be consistent and dependable. Do not oversleep, be late, reschedule dates, or make promises that you cannot keep." Why didn't anybody ever give this to my family?

And when I got home from work today, our power was out! Again! (It's back on now, obviously.) Sigh... I hope I snap out of this funk. The High Holy Days are coming, and I can't make atonement in a pissy mood like this. But I also can't get over the irony that I'm going to be saying the Kol Nidre, the Yom Kippur prayer whose specific purpose is to remind Jews not to make rash promises, and certain people I know won't.

rebecca_in_blue: (Default)
Sable died one week ago today. I'm still sad about it and still missing my baby, but things are slowly getting easier. The first few days without him were VERY rough. I couldn't go more than several hours without a serious crying jag. Remember how mopey and depressed the von Trapp children were after Maria went back to the abbey in The Sound of Music? "I don't feel like singing, not without Fräulein Maria." Well, Rebecca didn't feel like doing anything except staying home and being depressed. I didn't even go to Torah study last week, and missed what I'm sure was an awesome study session with a great guest rabbi who shook the temple rafters on Friday night.

For the first several days, I was constantly getting up to walk him, starting to put more food in his dish, or looking over at where his bed used to be to check on him. Sometimes I still do. I spent 3+ years walking Sable first thing when I woke up or got home, and last thing before I went to bed or left to go anywhere, so it's been a tough habit to break. It's such a weird feeling not having to plan my day around going home to walk Sable every few hours, and this apartment still feels so empty without him, hardly like the same place at all. I feel kinda like the woman in Melancholy Courtesan, an ancient Indian watercolor that I'm looking at on the art calendar.

I know I've posted more in this blog about Sable dying than I did about Grandma dying. That might seem weird, but I think it makes sense. I made sure to visit Grandma once a week, but that was all, and Dad and Aunt Carolyn were living in other cities when they died. So while their deaths devastated me, they didn't change my daily routine. Sable's death has -- drastically. It's like the line in that sappy song, "I don't know just what to do with my time." Sara and I are toying with the idea of getting another dog or cat.

I did have a little chuckle when I saw this headline: World's Ugliest Dog Dies at 15. It's actually referring to a Chihuahua named Yoda, who was the same age as Sable and died on the same day (March 15, the Ides of March -- Shakespeare wasn't kidding!).
rebecca_in_blue: (worried eyes)

On Tuesday evening, I attended my first meeting of the women's group our temple. I was a little blown away by how much work these women put into running the temple, fundraising, planning dinners and events, organizing the religious classes, sending food to members who sick or grieving, etc. They are a force to be reckoned with! I was so impressed.
I have to say, maybe because it was my first meeting, but I felt very out-of-place. First of all, the meeting was held at one lady's house in Swanky Subdivision Land. Honestly, it was probably one of the nicest houses I've ever been in. I kept wanting to say, "No, you don't understand! I love junk food and collect cans and shop at Goodwill!" Also, every other woman there was old enough to be my mother (or grandmother) and I had nothing to contribute when they talked about their husbands, kids, grandkids, and gardens. But they were all so sweet to me that I feel I have to go back for the next meeting. Mrs. Cohen, who sat next to me, said she was "adopting" me and appointing herself as my "meddling Jewish mother." (Haha! Cohen, just what my last name always gets misheard as!)

Still, it was hard. How can just visiting a house in the town where I've lived for so long feel more foreign going to than France?

The other downside is that the meetings seem to be held on Tuesday evenings, so I missed seeing NCIS "live." I watched this week's episode (Two-Faced - my notes are at the bottom, and they're long as heck!) online twice, and it just blew my mind. You can find excellent (better) summaries here by [ profile] kew121 and here by [ profile] littlesammy.

On Wednesday and Friday mornings, I had two job interviews. The interesting thing is that they were both positions I didn't apply for; the employers had seen my resume online and called me in. This has never happened before, and I'd like to think it's a good sign, but I also don't want to get my hopes up. Today I went straight to temple from work, and from there, straight to Grandma's house for a dinner of sloppy joes and cake. Yum.

I'm typing up some fanficiton in another window right now. Strange that in 2010, I wrote twelve stories in six months, while this is only my fourth story of 2011. I suppose I must have more of a life this year than I did then. Who'd have thought?

But I still don't have too much of a life to talk forever about NCIS! My essay-length notes on 8x20 "Two-Faced" )
rebecca_in_blue: (trembling hand)

One thing I had wanted to do during my vacation was make a trip to New Orleans to see the cemeteries. (I have heard the cemeteries there are beautiful, almost on the level of Pere Lachaise.) My plan to make a two-day trip and spend the night there was the first thing to fall through. I had hoped that a friend of mine would go with me, and that fell through next. I wasn't exactly thrilled about driving to Nola and back by myself in one day (+3 hours), but I've wanted to see the cemeteries there for so long, so yesterday morning, I set out.

You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer youself in any direction you choose.

The trip was smooth until I actually got to Nola. Rebecca made some stupid decisions, namely traveling by herself to a strange city without bringing a map. In my defense, I had only wanted to see the cemeteries, which are just off the interstate and should've been easy to find. But it turns out that Nola is full of twists and turns, one-way streets, the biggest potholes I've ever seen, and roundabouts (which I haven't seen since I left Europe)!

And if you go in, should you turn left or right...
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up her mind.

My nerves got good and frazzled, and then... I had my first car crash. I was at fault. No one was injured. The guy I hit said it was a bad intersection where wrecks had happened before. He didn't have any damage except for a flat tire, but poor Muse Watson (my car) was in bad shape. I drove to the closest auto repair place I could find, and they said they could fix him but it would take a week. I didn't know anyone in Nola and had to call my mom to come get me. Call me a wuss, but it was damn scary. It was my first wreck and I was so shaken-up. I had no idea how much it would cost to fix Muse Watson, or if my insurance would cover it, or if the guy I hit might sue me, etc. I wanted to scream, cry, and hit something, but I didn't. I forced myself to stay calm through the whole ordeal. I try very hard not to panic in emergencies, and I think this time, I did it.

I'm sorry to say, but sadly, it's true
that bang-ups and hang-ups can happen to you.

I had no car and about four hours to kill in a strange neighborhood. First I waited in the repair shop lobby and read People magazines until they closed. Then I sat in a tiny bookstore until they closed (I bought Letters from Rifka to read while I waited). Then I browsed around in a pet store until they closed. Then I took a stroll around the neighborhood. Once out of my car, I saw Nola is a beautiful city. The area was so urban. There were corner delis and cafes, businesses and churches, flowers in bloom, and beautiful old houses with balconies draped with Mardi Gras beads and wrought-iron gates topped with fleur de lis. I wanted to take pictures, but my hands were too shaky.

All alone! Whether you like it or not,
alone will be something you'll be quite a lot.
And when you're alone, there's a very good chance
you'll see things that scare you right out of your pants.

I was eating dinner in a Subway when Mom called me, screaming at me for directions to where I was. (Apparently she, like me, map-quested worthless directions.) I had to run to a Wal-Green's and buy a city map, then ask directions from a sheriff. Staying calm in emergencies is not Mom's strong suit. It was the most stressful part of the day. It took almost another hour for her to find me.

Today I called my insurance company and the repair place in New Orleans. Muse Watson will be fixed by next Friday, and all I have to pay is the deductible. I keep telling myself that at least no one was hurt... except my pride, my good driving record, and my car. I can't stop beating myself up about it all!

But I do have some good news: Grandma's making spaghetti tomorrow, and on Sunday, I plan to celebrate Purim for the first time with a festival at the temple. I'm a bit nervous about that becaue I have no idea what it'll be like. Tuesday is the first of three new NCIS episodes (starting with Out of the Frying Pan), and I can't wait to see how the storylines with Ray and EJ will play out!

My poor Muse Watson!

So be sure where you step. Step with care and great tact,
and remember that life's a great balancing act.
Just never foget to be dexterous and deft,
and never mix up your right foot with your left!

rebecca_in_blue: (worried eyes)

I tossed and turned all night last night. I very occasionally have nights when I lie awake for hours worrying for over the most ridiculous, pointless things (things I have no power to change, things that are a long way in the future) and as much as I try, I can't make myself stop worrying or go back to bed. Yes, things are better in the morning, and all my worries seem stupid by the light of day, but still, it really bothers me when I have nights like that. I'm not the only one who does this sometimes, right? I think we all have fears that seem scarier at night.

It didn't help that immediately before going to bed, I checked my work schedule and realized that I actually had to work today, when I thought I was off. (I got Thursday and Friday confused; my day off is tomorrow.) How much does it suck to discover you have to get up early and go to work when you had planned on sleeping in? Ugh. I guess it's a good thing I checked the schedule.

On top of that, immediately before going to bed, I read the first eleven chapters of I'd Know You Anywhere, a book I found so disturbing that it made my stomach clench, but it was so well-written that I literally couldn't put it down.

Finally, sometime in a.m., I had to turn on my lamp and read the most boring Torah passages I could find until I felt tired again. Sable actually got out of his bed and came to sleep on the floor next to my bed.

I'm not sure what to make of it. Changes might be on the horizon, and I'm not sure what to make of those, either. Strangely enough, there are some situations where knowledge of child actresses is absolutely no help. Maybe I should go back to St. John's Wort.

rebecca_in_blue: (bemused shrug)
I had another dream involving child actresses last night. (See also the one about Liz Taylor and the one about Anna Paquin & Victoire Thivisol.) In it, I'd just bought a DVD of this movie starring a really young Dakota Fanning (like, I Am Sam-era young), a Matilda-era Mara Wilson, and a modern-day Natalie Portman, who I think was playing Mara's mom. I can't remember anything about the actual movie, except that I really loved it and was so excited to have a copy.

Adam and I drove out to Iowa yesterday for the Rabbit Festival. I enjoyed the atmosphere and looking around at the booths, but I mostly just went for the carnival food. I love carnival food! (Carnival rides make me sick now, which makes me feel about as old as Grandma!) With the incredibly strong smells of boiled crawfish -- which, like coffee, I love the smell but not the taste of -- and onion rings bombarding my nose from every direction, it was really hard to limit my choices to nachos, funnel cakes, and fried oreos. Adam had a sno-cone and cotton candy. Would you believe he's curious as to what raw onions taste like, but wouldn't try a bite of delicious funnel cake? We also visited Celeste & Co. while there and met their dog Bo, who is so sweet that he reminded me of Dug from Up. Within a few minutes of meeting me, he was throwing himself in my lap and gazing up at me adoringly. The most amazing thing is that I could pull myself away from NCIS and leave the house at all that day.

The weather was nice enough while we were out yesterday, but last night was almost scary. It didn't rain much, but the wind was strong that I thought I was back in Villers-Cotterets. It practically shook the apartment building at some points, and I could hear it whooshing up and down the streets like it was alive. And angry.

Today I did my laundry at Grandma's, flipped through her TV Guide, and made a list of every NCIS episode coming on from Monday to Thursday. I put it up on our refrigerator, although I considered taping it to the corner of the TV screen. I'm so excited: tomorrow is "Judgment Day," the one where Jenny dies!!! I've been looking for that episode on YouTube since for weeks, but I've only found parts of it, so I never got the whole story on how she died. As much as I liked her and didn't want her to die, this is going to be awesome.

Tomorrow, it's back to the salt mines. There has been a lot of drama at work lately because one of my managers claims she's being disrespected. I think she's just taking her anger over her skunk-striped dye job out on us. Sara has said I'm "the definition of passive-aggressive" -- which is something I've seriously been trying to change -- but I'm nothing compared to some of my co-workers. They're having worse problems with Skunkhair than I am, because they tend to cry in the corner, roll their eyes, make sarcastic comments under their breath, and/or bitch to me when she pisses them off. I am working at honestly telling her when she pisses me off, and why.

I've also been trying to figure out how I got to be so passive-agressive in the first place. It sounds so whiny for anyone to still blame their problems on their mom when they're an adult, but I do think my mom's part of it. She's not a cruel person, but when she gets mad, she can say and do incredibly hurtful things. I don't remember ever trying to talk to her about this -- or about anything -- because it was always a given to me that she wouldn't apologize, wouldn't admit she'd done anything wrong, wouldn't change. I remembered recently that when I was a little kid, if I was doing I shouldn't, if someone said to me, even in a perfectly nice way, "Please don't do that," I would feel devastated and think they were angry with me. Is that normal? But then, is anyone? Think I'll go watch Matilda now.
rebecca_in_blue: (pursed lips)

Sara and I have been very caught up in Conan O'Brien's late-night drama. We watched his show every night this week, and I'm almost tempted to watch Leno's first show back just to boo him when he enters. (Seriously, has anybody ever liked that douchebag, or found him funny? Even Carson didn't want him to get the show!) Conan's farewell show last night was surprisingly heartfelt and touching. I've been watching him since I was about 12, and I still have a fan letter that I wrote to him when I was 14 (but never mailed, and thank goodness for that, because it's horrifyingly badly-written and cheesey).

This week I finally did what I've been meaning to do for so long and opened a CD. I got a damn good rate on it, and it matures in just six months! It's the first real step I've taken to me and Sara buying a second vehicle. Even if I have to roll pennies and collect cans every day -- and I probably will -- I really want to make this happen. (Besides, as long as Grandma is still alive, there's no way I'll ever go hungry. She called me today begging me to come over and eat spaghetti. Unfortunately I was stuck at work all day, but maybe tomorrow.) Sharing the truck between us has been so damn hard, sometimes I just want to cry. I mean, how are we supposed to go anywhere or do anything when just getting to and from work is hard?

Tonight I finished reading Crow Lake, this good book Sara forced me to read lent me. Next I'd really like to read Plain Beautiful, which is a biography of former child actress Peggy Ann Garner that gotten some good reviews, but I can't find a cheap copy of it. Maybe I'll buy it with my tax refund. It feels a lot closer than it seems, because the tax software at our store has been selling like crazy. I usually wait until April to file mine. Are the pants I bought for work tax deductible?

P.S. Okay, Jay Leno has one (one!) endearing quality. He's done some super adorable interviews with Abigail Breslin.
rebecca_in_blue: (trembling hand)

I attempted to put up our Christmas tree today, and the effort... didn't go well. I got the little artificial I bought last year out of the closet at Mom's house, but its branches are now just collapsing, rather than taking shape, which left a gigantic gap in the tree. I repacked it in the shape it should take and plan to try again tomorrow. If that doesn't work, I'm not sure what we'll do, because I don't want to buy a real tree, and having to buy an artificial each year completely defeats the purpose.

Sara and I might both be coming down with something. Today she said she still felt cold under long pants, long sleeves, a jacket, socks, and a blanket. We have cold medicine but no vitamins, but I'm going to pick some up later this week, if I remember. It was so cold and wet and nasty out today that we stayed inside and watched one of the movies Ben lent me, My Man Godfrey, while bundled up in the bed of our new sleeper sofa.

Two radio stations are now playing nothing but Christmas music, and so is the muzak station at work, mostly. And I like Christmas music but only in moderation! Listening to it all the time, everywhere I go, is annoying as all get-out. Especially the craptacular Christmas music that the radio plays. And it's only December 1...

I'm trying to do most of my Christmas shopping online this year. I've just gotten started and it's already a little frustrating. So far I've been told "Sorry, we're out of that" on the first gift I tried to order, and the second gift I was hunting for, I could only find for sale on a webpage that was obviously fraudulent. "You don't need any information on the item! You just need to give us your credit card number!" But Rebecca's no fool -- no siree, she's gonna live to 93! -- so I contacted the website hosting said page, and they're having it taken down.

rebecca_in_blue: (subtle sigh)

Rebecca hasn't barfed since June 17 -- over three weeks! And I haven't eaten out since June 30, which is probably a new record for me in abstaining from fast food.

We're having a meeting at work on Sunday morning, and today I asked Nice Manager about it. I'd assumed it would be about Back-to-School, since that season is our Christmas and is nearly upon us, but she said it was to address "the corruption that's been going on up here." And believe me, I pressed her for more details, but that was all she'd tell me. So I asked a different manager, but he just said, "Uh... it's about... stuff we need to improve upon," and changed the subject. I haven't been doing anything wrong, but I'm still worried. People at work have seemed tenser lately. Maybe it's my imagination, or maybe it's from getting ready for Back-to-School, which I've heard is going to be crazy-busy and stressful. Plus I've found out that I don't get vacation time until I've worked there for a year, which is disappointing. We'll just have to wait and see what happens on Sunday morning.

For some reason, writing about this has made me feel worse, not better. Isn't writing about something supposed to make it better? Sometimes I feel like I've spending my whole life going without, like that's supposed to make me a better person or something. Like the mayor in Chocolat, who was always fasting and abstaining from anything fun or enjoyable, only to go crazy and gorge himself on chocolate in the end. Maybe I need to better appreciate the things I do have, and stop feeling like I'm doing something wrong whenever I treat myself to something.

If I can, I'm taking Eva to the water park this weekend. It had better not rain.

rebecca_in_blue: (dozing off)

Sable had me worried last week. He got so slow and lethargic, even more so than usual, and he almost stopped wanting to go on walks. But in the last few days I gave him a bath (he needed one), washed his beds, and bought him a box of the moist dog food with gravy that he likes. He seems to have perked back up now. As much as he hates having a bath, he obviously feels better when he's clean.

We hired a new girl at work recently, and she is annoying to no end. She reminds me a lot of Daisy Wick, the super annoying character they hired and fired on Bones (I can't believe I'm referencing that show! I hate that show! Damn you, Sara!) in that both talk constantly. At length. Whether you want them to or not. Last week I got to hear all about her family drama. The week before that, the topic was her yeast infection. I am not kidding. Seriously, what kind of person talks about that kind of thing to co-workers she hardly knows? And because she's new, she's still making some mistakes, and I don't know how to correct her without coming off as a bitch. So I just come off as a bitch in hopes that it will deter her from talking to me all the time. It doesn't.

Sara and I watched The Curious Case of Benjamin Button last night. It wasn't what I had expected, but it was good. A lot of it was set and filmed in New Orleans, and I think it was one of those rare movies about the South that isn't incredibly inaccurate and/or offensive. Seriously, I can count movies like that on one hand. Next I want to rent Doubt, which I've heard is really good. And I finally checked out Abigail Breslin's movie Kit Kittredge from the library, but I haven't watched it yet.

And on a more thoughtful note... Sometimes I worry about my generation. We're so accustomed to instant gratification and frenzied consumerism. It's how we grew up, depending on our possessions or our money for entertainment, comfort, happiness, and just about everything else. I have so many modern conveniences that my parents and grandparents didn't, things that are supposed to make my life easier or save me time. But what do I do with all that extra time? Nothing productive. I'm constantly making plans to do things and never following up them. I've learned to "accept the fluster / of an hour badly spent," as the poet said, but I still don't know how to prevent it. I'm too impatient.
rebecca_in_blue: (stiff shoulders)

I hate Mother's Day. I hate having to split it between my mom and Grandma. I hate the phony excuses Mom makes about why she won't see Grandma. Yesterday it was because Grandma was cooking red meat, and Mom doesn't eat red meat. Right, so if Grandma had cooked chicken, you would've gone over? Don't make me laugh.

I ended up getting Mom office supplies for Mother's Day. Sara and I ate lunch at her house yesterday before we went to work, and I had dinner at Grandma's after I got off. Then I stayed up all night barfing. Sara says I shouldn't go to Houston if I still feel bad. We were supposed to leave at 2 today, but Mom just called and pushed it back till 4. I won't be surprised if she pushed it back even further, or cancelled it altogether. What a pointless trip. We won't have time to do anything.

I'm the midst of some very aggravating computer problems right now. Between that and the barfing, I don't know which sucks more.

rebecca_in_blue: (trembling hand)

For breakfast this morning I had a glass of orange juice and a bowl of Chex Mix with strawberry slices. The exact kind of breakfast you always see people eating in magazines. One of my goals is to eat more fruits and vegetables. It won't be hard because I eat so few of them now that eating one pretty much equates to eating more.

Good news: I'm OFF for EASTER! BWAHAHA! I'm going to spend it at my aunt's house, and I'm planning to cook Marlene's stuffing. I feel bad that I meant to cook it for Thanksgiving, then for Christmas, and followed through on neither.

Mom called me a few days ago and said that she and Adam are going to Houston in May. She asked if I wanted to go, and I said yes, but I've been flip-flopping on that ever since. So now I'm breaking it down.

Pro: Seeing Mark & Vickie. They're nice, cool people, I love their house, and I haven't seen them since before I went to France.
Flip Side: How much do I really want to see Mark & Vickie? Yes, they're nice, cool people, but they really don't even feel like family anymore. They just feel like nice, cool people I happen to know. And the reason I haven't seen them since before France is because they never came to visit me there like they said they would.

Pro: Seeing all the old Houston hangouts (the Chocolate Bar, Half-Priced Books, etc.)
Flip Side: Except for the Chocolate Bar and Candy Craze, those places really aren't worth going to Houston anymore. Half-Priced Book hardly holds the same thrill for me that it used to. I still like browsing, but I can't remember the last time I actually bought anything there. I miss seeing the foreign movies that you couldn't see anywhere else, but Mom doesn't really go to the movies like Dad used to, and even if we did see one, it probably wouldn't have a child actress in it. Besides, we'll be going to all the old Houston spots. We won't be going anywhere new, like a cemetery, maybe. I've never been to one in Houston. I'd like to go to the one where Roger is buried and find his grave.

Con: Mom's driving. There is no flip side to this one. Mom driving us there is the biggest reason I don't want to go. In the first place, she isn't a safe driver, and in the second, she plays the same CDs over and over and over (and we do not have the same taste in music) and she plays them loud. The last time I went to Houston with her (when I went to the French consulate to get my visa), I asked her to turn it down, she flat-out refused, and I had to spend the rest of the ride home with my fingers in my ears. And I was not being dramatic; it was just that loud. I know I won't enjoy one minute of the ride unless I can get myself some noise-cancellation headphones and possibly motion-sickness pills between now and then.

I don't know. I'll probably end up going. It's only for two days. But I don't know.

rebecca_in_blue: (dropped jaw)

I used part of my Christmas money to buy myself a flash drive. (But ironically, I didn't buy it at my own store, where we have an entire endcap of flash drives in all colors and styles.) I don't know why I didn't get one sooner, because it is so hella convenient.

We just hired two new people at work, and that means my hours are getting cut back. I'm worried about my money (especially after my foodstamps expire), so I'll have to start looking for temporary work I could do on my days off. It's frustrating, because otherwise I like my job, except for one manager who I'm certain has some sort of personal vendetta against me. I still have four other managers that I like, so it isn't that bad, but I'm going to try to arrive earlier, smile and talk more (I'm really quiet at work) in an effort to impress him. I guess that's one of my new year resolutions.

I have a few other resolutions for 2009, but I probably won't be posting them here. Last year I made so many resolutions and followed through on so few of them that it was embarrassing. But yesterday I followed through on something that I had almost backed out of doing, so I'm proud of myself for that.

Sometimes I think my grandma is getting crazier with age. Yesterday she said she wanted the recipe to my pecan pie muffins and said, I quote, "Do you have any paper at your apartment? Do you need me to give you some paper to write it down on?" And no one who knows my grandma should even be surprised.

Must go do laundry now.

rebecca_in_blue: (subtle)

This morning I climbed into my truck, turned the key in the ignition, and... nothing. I tried it again -- and still nothing. I called my aunt and she drove me to work. Fortunately I was only about fifteen minutes late and it was no big deal. By the time I got off work, a large percentage of my family has found out about my truck problem via Grandma. My aunt and uncle in Westlake, my other aunt (who's also our car insurance agent), and my uncle who came to our apartment to take a look at it. He said it was a problem with the battery and took me to buy a new one. Now the truck is running fine again. Big relief. A good example of my family's general nosiness and how it can be either incredibly helpful or incredibly annoying.

I'm worried about the election. I really think Obama will win, but I have this nagging doubt. What if he doesn't? When I imagine four more years of a Republican president, I get so scared I almost start shaking, especially when I think about how McCain would surely die in office and Palin would be sworn in. !!! Sometimes I wish I could just fast-forward to a month from now, when it is all over.

Mom is town. Sable moves in with us tomorrow. My older brother lent me his copy of Citizen Kane.

rebecca_in_blue: (stiff shoulders)

For some reason, my mom bought a lock for the backyard gate before she left for North Carolina. I have no idea why, because that backyard is probably the last place on earth that anybody would walk into of their own free will. But she bought one anyway and we've been using it. So early this morning I was woken up by my dog, who was whining because he needed to go out. But I couldn't put him in the backyard because I couldn't find the key to the lock. I had to wake up my brother, who was the last person who locked the gate, and he eventually found it. (He hadn't put it back where it belongs. Big surprise.)

Then I discovered that he also hadn't closed the lock correctly. He put it on upside-down, so now we can't get it open at all. And I can't ride my bike because my bike is in the backyard! What's even more frustrating is that if I had done this, my mom would probably spend all day yelling at me about it. But my brother did it, and Mom is a firm believer that He Can Do No Wrong. I'll probably get blamed for it, because she usually blames me and/or my sister whenever anything goes wrong. My older brother lived at home until he was 28 and I never heard Mom say one thing about it to him, but she tells me and Sara (frequently, and usually loudly) how much she hates us living here. She recently told me, and I quote, that after we move out, "I don't want anything to do with y'all."

Last time Mom called, she said that she wants to celebrate my birthday next weekend, when she comes back from North Carolina. I really don't want a birthday party this year (for reasons unrelated to Mom, but if I do have a birthday party, I really don't want her there), but I can't pass up the opportunity for some cake. The only thing I really want is a book that Sara said she'd order for me from her store.

Sara and I still haven't moved into our apartment because our utilities still haven't been turned on because of Hurricane Ike. We really hope to be out by the end of this week, at the latest. My brother had better get that lock fixed soon. If he thinks I'm a bitch now, he should see me after I haven't been able to stretch my legs properly for days.

P.S. I recently saw the movie Lawn Dogs, with 10-year-old Mischa Barton. Highly recommended. I loved it so much that I think I'm going to watch it again before sending it back to Netflix. I'll try to post more about it when I'm in a better mood.

rebecca_in_blue: (Default)

Grandma's house was packed (and I mean packed) yesterday with relatives, friends, and people I'd never met. We were having a several-weeks-late wedding reception for my cousin and his new wife. There was chicken in gravy, rice dressing, shrimp fetucinni, crawfish pie, wedding cake, German chocolate cake, and a big bowl of ginger ale and lime sherbert, which is my favorite punch in the world. I was tempted to pick up the punch bowl and drink straight from that, but somehow I restrained myself. Anyway, Grandma's house was very hectic and noisy, and we called it "Hurricane Comeaux."

Today is Eva's birthday (she's 11!), and Adam and I went over to visit her. I had made her another YouTube video like I had for last year, but there was something wrong with the JavaScript on her computer, so she couldn't watch it. While we were there, Adam got a nosebleed for no apparent reason, and on the way back he got blood all over my truck. Driving there and back was like going through a ghost town. One of the busiest streets was completely empty, all five lanes of it, for as far as I could see, and nearly all the businesses were closed and boarded up.

We're doing what we usually do in the face of hurricanes: nothing. I brought in most of our outside things that could've been blown around (my hibiscus plants, etc.) but we haven't boarded up the windows or sand-bagged the house like most of our neighbors have. I'm really only worried about our feral kittens and semi-feral cat. I would bring them inside if I could, but I doubt they would let me.

Meanwhile our computer, which has always worked fine, suddenly started acting like a piece of crap a few days ago. My sibs and I have been trying to figure out what the fuck went wrong, but we haven't had any luck yet. Very frustrating.

rebecca_in_blue: (stiff shoulders)
Aunt Carla, Athena, Sara, and I ended up going out to eat at IHOP around midnight on Saturday night. I was pretty surprised at how crowded it was for so late. We had a lot of fun, and damn the food was good. I ordered a plate of pecan pancakes with sausage, and I sure as hell know what I'm getting the next time I go to IHOP.

July 14 was Bastille Day. I've always been sorry that I didn't get to be in France for that. And whatever I would have done in France would have been hella better than the fuck-tacular Bastille Day I had here. This is a word-for-word conversation I had with my mom this morning:

Mom: "Are you and Sara paying your car insurance separately?"
Me: "Yeah."
Mom: (pissed) "What does that mean? Did you forget about it again?"
Me: Silence. I didn't say anything because there was nothing to say. Her response said it all. There is no right way for me to talk to that woman. Every word out of my mouth, even a simple yes or no, just pisses her off. I won't go into why the rest of the day sucked.

Adam and I caught a few good episodes of Star Trek, which comes on for four straight hours on Monday nights, including the episode where Warf delivers Keiko's baby. Warf! Ugh. Really, there is no one on that ship I would less like to deliver my baby.

Since no one bothered to ask *hmph*, the new title of my journal (When we get the swell, we'll sail for treasure island) is a lyric from the song "The Captain's Kid," by Sybil Jason, one of the most charming and under-appreciated child actresses I know. And I just figured out how to convert said song from YouTube and add it to my iPod! I also just finished filling out a ton of job applications. My hand is hella sore, but I just hope that something good will come out of them.
rebecca_in_blue: (trembling hand)

The last few days have been absolutely shit-tacular. No other word acurately describes the shittiness. And tomorrow is probably going to be just as shitty.

On Thursday Lofton Staffing Services called me and said they might have found me employment, but I had to take a drug test first. So I went to their offices Friday morning, but they were out of drug test kits and sent me to Sulphur. So I drive to Sulphur, pee in a cup, and on the way back I come so close to an accident that it wasn't even funny. I guess I should be grateful I'm still alive. Later I find out that the employment they found for me is a half-hour drive away and, judging from what they told me, not what I'm looking for.

Today I've learned that I'm fucktarded because I don't know what the fuck a granule is. Well, who the fuck cares? And I can't use first-person possessive adjectives anymore, ever. If I don't post in this journal again, it'll be because I was murdered for accidentally saying my. Or because I killed myself. Oh, and today looking at a picture of Dad suddenly filled me with uncontrollable rage and I broke the frame and ground the glass into little pieces in my carpet.

There is more to say, but I don't feel like saying it. A snippet of an e-mail from Chinese Sarah: My teacher and students --they are OK ,i think one of the reasons is they find i can understand them more then what they thought i was :) Heather told me that the French is very simple , now i think she is right ----i am a very good example ----it is very fanny , because i thought only the juvenile always think in this way , maybe i am too simple (: b )

rebecca_in_blue: (Default)
Well, I began job-hunting in earnest today, and it's already hard not to get depressed. I can only hope that the Willstaff here can do more than the Willstaff in Baton Rouge, which was a waste of time if I ever saw one. I'm just frustrated to learn that apparently I have to start paying bills now, rather waiting until I get a job. It's even more frustrating because I'm certain that all my siblings have gotten this grace period (considering that Brother #1 spent over a year doing nothing – not working, going studying, or paying bills – after he graduated from high school, and Brother #2 is almost 21 and still in high school). I'm beginning to think they must be smarter than they look and act, since they apparently figured out that life is easier if you keep everyone's expectations low.

Okay, Rebecca is just whining because it's late and she's tired, so she's going to bed now. Tomorrow she'll turn in some more resumes, and hopefully things will look better, the way they sometimes do the next day. Cut to Aileen Quinn: "Bet yer bottom dollar that tomorrow they’ll be sun!" (Heh, the song isn't even really playing, and Sara isn't even here, but I can still see her rolling her eyes!) I ended up giving my DVD of that movie to Chinese Sarah before I left France, because she enjoyed it so much. I got an e-mail from her earlier today, which was awesome.

Oh yeah, and recently, for no reason whatsoever, I learned to recite all 43 American presidents in chronological order. So now I go around saying, "Washington Adams Jefferson Madison Monroe Adams Jackson Van Buren, etc." (and I could go on!) whenever I get bored.


rebecca_in_blue: (Default)

March 2013



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