Hey, Look Me Over

Talked to The Realtor (fille) and two loan officers today. The news, more-or-less in order of arrival:
- The Realtor (père) is turning 70, and the party is this weekend.
- The taxes on the place are arcane, and I must contact the city assessor for details.
- I have an appointment to walk through the place with The Realtor (fille) next Thursday, lunchtime, and check out the new window and the exhaust fan in the bathroom.
- I should have been clearer sooner with the current loan officer about having talked to one of her colleagues four months ago. Five hours after I said "we did this before," I got a call from the first loan officer saying I'm approved. I'm to fax over more documents and the underwriter still has to rubber-stamp the thing, but we have a go.
- Someone will be calling about homeowner's insurance. Which I will need, because the building is not on bedrock.

I finished the day with "Hey, Look Me Over" playing in my head. It's the only song I know with the word 'mortgage' in the lyrics.


Today's earrings: bees, typewriter keys

Bedtime reading: The Girl in the Plain Brown Wrapper, John D. MacDonald

The Kate Harding, 1892

Today's earrings: mermaids, anchors

Bedtime reading: Disclosure Package, The Realtor

Fun fact

The place I intend to buy is within the catchment area for Galileo High.


Today's earrings: hands, basketweave spoons

Bedtime reading: Disclosure Package, The Realtor

Homework

M held my hand as I met with The Realtor (fille) and signed stuff. I gave her a largish check. In return, she gave me two ring-bound reams of paper: one for me to keep; the other to read, sign at each of the dozens of post-its, and return within the week.

Went to lunch with M. We discussed my (conditionally) impending change of address. How to arrange my furniture, the logistics of me hosting Thanksgiving, appliance purchases, that sort of thing. I was exceedingly tiresome about insisting on the conditional tense. She was remarkably forebearing. At some point I should compile a list of useful phrases: "don't count your chickens," "many a slip 'twixt cup and lip," all that jazz. [damn - I should have worn the coffee cup & chicken earrings. Must make note for future The Realtor meetings.]

A brand-new building in the neighborhood was having its Grand Opening, so we inspected the place. Good layouts, kinda loud. Of course, there's only so much you can do about sound when the property is on Bush Street and the the current fashion is exterior walls of glass. There were these two apartments on the second floor, with terraces and bedrooms below, that were totally excellent. One had a ladder from the terrace down into the lightwell for the bedrooms - so cool. Really smart use of space.


Today's earrings: elephants, brass triangles

Bedtime reading: Disclosure Package, The Realtor

I got stuff checked off my list

Didn't get a whole lot of work done, but I did make contact with the Loan People (sent them much paper) and The Realtor (fille) (made an appointment to do paperwork Sunday).


Today's earrings: eyes, liberty dimes

Bedtime reading: Red As Blood, Tanith Lee

all before noon

I thought up a really good curse in the shower this morning: May you experience the consequences of your actions.

Too harsh?


More of a crowd than usual at the bus stop this morning. Some guy walked up to one of the regulars and started threatening her - I heard, "If you were a guy I'd beat your ass," and there was more I didn't hear. She just stared at him. He walked away, but he kept pointing back to her and miming kicking as he crossed the street. Coward that I am, I did nothing until he'd gone around the corner, and only then did I go ask her if she was OK. "I don't know him," she said. "I didn't think you did," I said, "Just wanted to check you're OK." She said yeah, and I heeded her 'I have had way too much human contact for now' vibe and stepped away.


Came in to find three months of the Barbados Gazette on my chair. Hooray! I <3 gazettes.

10:30 finally got a call back from the city. I'm approved. Didn't the realtor call? (Yes, she called two days ago, but for some reason, we decided to do the "who's on first?" sketch instead of having a productive conversation.)
10:40 vm to loan officer.

Finished sorting through the Barbados Gazette; found one (1) piece of relevant information.

11:15 Boss hands me my annual review form. She said nice things. We're going for a muffin later.


Today's earrings: strawberries, apples

Bedtime reading: Red As Blood, Tanith Lee

Brush with B-52

I was on my way to the supermarket after work. Round about Kearney, I realized the tourist next to me getting all sticker-shocked about the fare had a very familiar voice. I glanced over, and went Fred! I didn't say that out loud. No, I said something inane about the mass-transit experience. He said he could get that on the subway. Seemed a fair point. We stopped at Grant, and a row of tourists formed, snapping shots of the cable car. He started laughing. "You don't get that on the subway," I said, He and his companion said, "Well..." I suppressed the urge to point out Coit Tower and the steeples of Sts Peter & Paul as we went by. I suppressed the urge to get all fangirly effusive at him - if he wanted effusion, he'd have been traveling differently. I did, however, keep sneaking peeks. And eavesdropping. They were on their way to Whole Foods and then meeting some people later. I suppressed the urge to tail them to Whole Foods, and got off at Cala like I'd planned.

OMG OMG OMG Fred!


Today's earrings: bunnies, flowers

Bedtime reading: "Useful Phrases for the Tourist," Joanna Russ

Scales

Happy Equinox! The sun enters Libra today.

I spent the morning on the phone trying to figure out how to set the time on my 5-year tchotchke. My quest was hampered by the nice lady's inability to find me in her computer. Turns out I'd been filed under the wrong company, and was actually supposed to have been picking from an entirely different tchotchke array. Did I want to send my tchotchke back and choose another? I told her no, no - now that I know how to set the time, the clock is lovely.

Then I got a call from The Realtor (fille), talking about me coming in write an offer this week. I asked if that meant she'd heard from the city about my ap. Um, er, no. Mmmkay. I'd be happy to move along with this, but until we get approval from the city it's kind of pointless, and The Realtor (père) only submitted the paperwork on Friday, so, huh? I did take it as a reminder to leave a follow-up voicemail with the city.

Later, I did some actual work.


Today's earrings: alligators, other alligators

Bedtime reading: Night of the Morning Star, Peter O'Donnell

The Object-Lesson

At twilight, however, no message had come from the asylum,
so the others retired to the kiosk,
only to discover the cakes iced a peculiar shade of green
and the tea-urn empty
save for a card on which was written the single word:
Farewell.
- - Edward Gorey

Did anyone see a psychiatric explanation of why House's hallucinations were of Amber and Kuttner? Because I didn't. Rendered the whole enterprise fairly pointless.



Today's earrings: diamonds, suns

Bedtime reading: Night of the Morning Star, Peter O'Donnell

Pettiness

Mid-morning, the receptionist came around to say that A had been invited to lunch by the chief consultant guy, and the chief consultant guy had decided to turn it into a pizza party, who wanted in? She described A as our "former office manager." Said everyone really liked him. Not quite. A was the dude sent by corporate to manage the post-takeover integration. By the time I got there, he was mostly making busywork for his assistant. The assistant left; he made petty, time-wasting busywork for himself out of me and my coworkers. There were a few things he might have done to improve how corporate was treating us, but he was way too busy with his busywork... They ended up firing him four years ago.

On the "always postpone meetings with time-wasting morons" principle, I said no, thanks on the pizza.


Today's earrings: cups, theobromine molecules

Bedtime reading: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams

More events

I dropped off the paperwork for the apartment. [Begin now an extended period of thumb-twiddling.]

And! my boss tells me that Rick is going to propose to Mindy tomorrow. Again.


Today's earrings: flies, amber

Bedtime reading: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams

Filled with incident

I got a call this morning from the realtor dude in charge of that apartment I fell in love with. The person who got their ap in first has failed to secure financing. Am I still interested in buying the place? AND HOW! I replied. Oh, good, he said, and asked me to bring him a current set of documents. He'll pass it to the city, they'll vet my paperwork, and (hopefully) they'll approve me again. Then we go to his pet loan officer, and (hopefully) she'll approve me for a loan. And then (hopefully) I get to go live in the apartment I fell in love with.

About an hour after that, my boss presented me with my 5-Year Tchotchke: a nice desk clock discreetly emblazoned with the corporate logo. Now that I've gotten my tchotchke home, I find that there's no apparent way to adjust the time. Hm.

My boss also shared the sad news that Alan Spaulding died yesterday at the Chamberlain-Lewis wedding reception. Mr. Spaulding died of complications following a bone-marrow donation to his adopted son, for whom he was a suspiciously close match [insert tawdry speculation about Jackie Marler here]. Mr. Spaulding is survived by his sisters Alexandra and Amanda, his son Alan-Michael and his daughter Peyton, his adopted son Philip, his nephew Nick and his niece Vicky, five grandchilden, one great-grandchild, and (apparently) six of his former wives.

Today's earrings: amethysts

Bedtime reading: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams

[edited to correct the Spaulding obit]

Dali

Google has brought me new knowlege tonight.

I knew that Dali had drawn a tarot deck, based on Rider/Waite. It's available for general sale. There's also a 54-card stripped version with French suit marks printed in the corners, suitable for playing bridge or poker. (For some reason, I have two copies of the latter. Why? Why?)

I've also seen a tarot deck someone cobbled together out of details of Dali paintings. It's very pretty, but of little use for telling fortunes or for playing games.

What I hadn't known was that in 1967 Dali drew a set of court cards and aces with French suit marks. It was published in a limited run, and for some reason no one's reprinted them. Too bad; I would have liked to have a copy.

The ace of diamonds looks like this:

Today's earrings: diamonds, aces

Bedtime reading: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams

So you know.

Friday's post was my 666th.

Spooky.


Today's earrings: frogs, crows

Bedtime reading: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams

In translation

The moon, like a flower
In heaven’s high bower,
With silent delight
Sits and smiles on the night.

- - William Blake

“Okay, let’s see… In mellow-speak, that would be… ‘Oh, wow, look at the moon.’”

- - Garry Trudeau


Today's earrings: monkeys, mice

Bedtime reading: Night of the Morningstar, Peter O'Donnell

You know what I did?

I forgot Project Runway was on. The Supernatural season premiere was that good.

I came to my senses just in time to see the elimination. I'm watching the insta-rerun now. Models highlights: cliques are forming; Kojii's daughter visits; Valerie gets bounced again and is again really gracious about it. It looks like she might have booked a job from that "industry party" thing as a consolation prize, too.


Today's earrings: rockets, chickens

Bedtime reading: Crimson Joy, Robert B. Parker

Whatever.

One of the dudes in the department down the hall has decided making friends with me is his new project. I didn't have any strong objection, so, whatever. Except now he's taken to asking me to get coffee.

The first time (last Friday), I was kinda stuck in the office, and so suggested Tuesday morning. He seized upon the suggestion. Tuesday morning comes, he doesn't show. Whatever.

Tuesday afternoon, he suggests Wednesday morning. OK. This morning, he doesn't show. Whatever.

This afternoon, he calls and asks if I want to get coffee right then, and I said no, I don't drink coffee after noon. My insomnia is bad enough without adding extra caffeine. Right before quitting time, he stopped by my desk and started talking about going to Jamba Juice tomorrow afternoon. Whatever. He also mentioned maybe coming along the next time I go for drinks with the guys, except that he's busy evenings Monday through Thursday. Which makes me wonder why he brought it up, because, what with one thing and another, we usually go drinking on Tues/Thurs.

Maybe I'm reading to much in, but it feels like he's expecting me to make this befriending thing happen. Like, now that I've been made aware that it's his project to make friends with me, it's my responsibility to make reminder calls to keep him on schedule. Because after all, I'm the girl, and that sort of thing is the girl's job - even though it's his project, not mine. Y'know?


Today's earrings: irons, brooms

Bedtime reading: Crimson Joy, Robert B. Parker

What's black and white and red all over?

A Red Panda!

Well, not really. But the bear is cute.


Today's earrings: polar bears, black bears

Bedtime reading: Crimson Joy, Robert B. Parker

Major Earring Score

Went to the Millbrae Art & Wine Fest with b2. We shopped. We drank wine. We ran into her parents. (Hi, b2's parents!) I scored major quantities of earrings. Then we went for ice cream.

I also got a sunburn. When will I learn the Lesson of Sunscreen?


Today's acquisitions: yellow schoolbuses, chickens, broomsticks, aces, black bears, brown bears, mice.

Today's earrings: swords, alligators

Bedtime reading: Crimson Joy, Robert B. Parker

The bridge is out

http://baybridgeinfo.org/

So I (of course) went to the east bay for brunch with T&S& the gang.
It was lovely :)



Today's earrings: hands, apples

Bedtime reading: Crimson Joy, Robert B. Parker

Song of the day

There's a pulse in the new-born sun;
A beat in the heat of noon;
There's a song as the day grows long,
And a tempo in the tides of the moon.
It's all around us and it's everywhere,
And it's deeper than Royal blue.
And it feels so real you can feel the feeling!
And that's The Majesty Of Rock!
The fantasy of Roll!
The ticking of the clock,
The wailing of the soul!
The prisoner in the dock,
The digger in the hole,
We're in this together...and ever...
- - David St. Hubbins & Derek Smalls

Today's earrings: skeletal fish

Bedtime reading: Dead Heat, Felix Francis

Yes, we should brunch this weekend

Thanks for the commiseration, guys. :) We should pick a day & time. I've got a street fair to attend Saturday, so Sunday/Monday?

I was Not Pleased with how the Qristyl vs Epperson problem was made to be all about Qristyl's leadership skills. That little clip where he's telling her how to pin fabric together so that the right sides end up out? was Epperson doing a bullshit dominance display. It was all about conveying to the onlookers that she's just so incompetent that he's simply compelled to waste time reciting basic concepts in dressmaking to her - and doing it very patiently so that when she (rightly) takes offense, he gets to pretend that he's been perfectly reasonable, and he has no idea why she's overreacting like that. The problem wasn't Qristyl's leadership skills; it was Epperson's lack of following (women) skills.

Model recap:
Everyone was really happy to see Valerie back. Seems she was the one keeping the kitchen clean, and without her they'd had to draw up a task rota. Erica and Matar are BFF. Fatma is still in lurve with Logan. Gossip among the other models is that he doesn't want to work with her because her heavy-handed flirting was creeping him out. Fatma is still not talking to Vanessa, who was the one who suggested Fatma put a sock in it about being chosen by Mitchell last week.

Kojii and Fatma take their day off to go to a casting for something-or-other, and in the car, Fatma starts bitching about Vanessa. In a bored, dispassionate tone, Kojii tells her that she's behaved badly and is a total hypocrite, to boot. When they get back to the Model Home, Fatma wakes up Vanessa to apologize. Vanessa's not having it. She questions the timing, and points out that while Fatma says she's apologizing, she keeps walking it back with rationalizations. The next morning, Vanessa's roommates are all, "Jerry Springer in my room at 2am last night; sucked." 2am? Ouch. Makes Vanessa's total ungraciousness about Fatma's apology more explicable.

Model picking: Ra'mon sticks with Vanessa. Carol Hannah decides to change models, starting a cascade. Epperson ditches Erika for Matar. Louise chooses Fatma next-to-last. Between Valerie and Erika, Qristyl chooses Valerie. Erika makes a very gracious parting speech, but Matar is bereft without her.

Next week: Heidi inspects the refrigerator in the Model Home.


Today's earrings: leaves, koi

Bedtiem reading: Dead Heat, Felix Francis

Hot hot hot

I suppose watching a Top Chef episode that was filmed in the desert heat should be bringing me some kind of perspective, but no. It was too hot to sleep here last night, and tonight is shaping up the same.

I need to get some rest. And maybe a fan.


Today's earrings: fire extinguishers, peppers

Bedtime reading: Dead Heat, Felix Francis

Kind of a downer

I went to see an apartment this morning. It's a below market rental on top of Powell Station. It's a bit smaller than my current place, but other than that, it's pretty much exactly where I'd like to live. The fly doing the crawl across my chowder? I don't qualify. It didn't occur to me to do the math until after I'd submitted the application and made an appointment to see the place, but last year's COLA bumped me over the income limit. After I'd belatedly figured out my current pay, I started hoping that the apartment would be one large sour grape, so I could feel good about not getting it. But, no. It's a perfectly livable place. I just won't get to live there.

*sigh*


Today's earrings: flowers, rabbits

Bedtime reading: Dead Heat, Felix Francis