My poor baby lizard, Howard, finally underestimated the agility of Mr. Bond, the Danger Cat. I found most of him on the floor this morning, on my way to the balcony for my morning date with the sunrise. I expect I'll find the rest when I clean the litter box. He's been entertaining me for the past three weeks or so. I'll miss him.
Rest in peace, liitle one.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Beach Side Note
Wearing a bra to work was an impossible dream yesterday. It may the same today. Good thing I own a lot of loose fitting clothes for work.
Sunday, June 26, 2005
Finally, a Sunny Day in Florida
My keying may be off tonight. I've just finished repainting my nails. Why is that important? Because, today I learned an important lesson about combining nail polish with sport sunscreen. Something in the two mixtures does not mix well together.
After slathering myself thoroughly for a trip to the beach with my friends, Deb, Mike, and Ian, I discovered that my fingernails had become sticky, icky, and quite tacky. My beautiful french tips were now picking up everything I got near, including the print from the newspaper I had been scanning. I had words on my fingernails. Then I had gray smears and fuzz as the print was smeared off when I tried to smooth the blanket covering the sofa. I did what I could, but I had already written off the paint job, deciding to remove the foul pastyness on my return.
In the meantime, I chose to ignore the icky mess and enjoy myself at the beach. This was my very first visit to a beach since I got here. I was very excited about it. Especially since I was off and it was actually sunny out.
So, I packed up a bag of beach supplies: a blanket, a towel, my camp chair, and my insulated lunch bag filled with sodas and water. I put on my bathing suit, covered with shorts and t-shirt, and complimented by a thorough layer of the above-mentioned sport sunscreen. I located my sunglasses, hat, sandals, and keys, and I made a pile of these things while I waited for the gang.
When they arrived I couldn't get out of here fast enough. I can't believe I was so eager to go to a beach, though. Unless I have plenty to keep me occupied, I usually don't care much for hanging around in the sun. But it's June in Florida and there has been an almost constant cloud cover from the daily showers and thunderstorms. Even a bat like me has to come out of the cave every now and then to wince at the sun.
We road the 30 minutes to Cocoa Beach, where I stayed when I came down for my interview. We parked in the free parking garage by Ron Jon surf shop and carried our various gear to the beach which was already filled with tourists, surfers, and various locals. We found a spot very close to the entrance that was relatively uncrowded and set ourselves up.
The very first thing I noticed (once I was finished futzing with my blanket and chair) was the sky, followed closely by the water. I never believed the beautiful blue-green water was real, but it is. And the sky, as I have said before, was brilliant with its menagerie of cloud types. Most of the clouds were very distant, but they had so much sky that they seemed like giant ships cruising through a vast ocean in the air. They were gorgeous. Mike and Ian took pictures for me, and I look forward to seeing them.
I'm not sure how much time we actually spent out there, but it was apparently quite enough for me. In spite of my caution in applying a thick coat of sunscreen (waterproof spf 45), and reapplying while there, I still managed to get burned. I am sitting here, leaning forward while I type, to avoid having my back touch anything firmer than the braless shirt I am now wearing. Work will be interesting tomorrow, I'm sure. At least I don't have to wear pantyhose.
But, I am very glad I made it to the beach. My apartment is on the water, but not on a beach. So it was a special treat for me to see it finally.
And now my nails appear to be dry enough to go figure out what I'm going to wear tomorrow (and how I'll wear a bra) so that I can get ready for bed.
After slathering myself thoroughly for a trip to the beach with my friends, Deb, Mike, and Ian, I discovered that my fingernails had become sticky, icky, and quite tacky. My beautiful french tips were now picking up everything I got near, including the print from the newspaper I had been scanning. I had words on my fingernails. Then I had gray smears and fuzz as the print was smeared off when I tried to smooth the blanket covering the sofa. I did what I could, but I had already written off the paint job, deciding to remove the foul pastyness on my return.
In the meantime, I chose to ignore the icky mess and enjoy myself at the beach. This was my very first visit to a beach since I got here. I was very excited about it. Especially since I was off and it was actually sunny out.
So, I packed up a bag of beach supplies: a blanket, a towel, my camp chair, and my insulated lunch bag filled with sodas and water. I put on my bathing suit, covered with shorts and t-shirt, and complimented by a thorough layer of the above-mentioned sport sunscreen. I located my sunglasses, hat, sandals, and keys, and I made a pile of these things while I waited for the gang.
When they arrived I couldn't get out of here fast enough. I can't believe I was so eager to go to a beach, though. Unless I have plenty to keep me occupied, I usually don't care much for hanging around in the sun. But it's June in Florida and there has been an almost constant cloud cover from the daily showers and thunderstorms. Even a bat like me has to come out of the cave every now and then to wince at the sun.
We road the 30 minutes to Cocoa Beach, where I stayed when I came down for my interview. We parked in the free parking garage by Ron Jon surf shop and carried our various gear to the beach which was already filled with tourists, surfers, and various locals. We found a spot very close to the entrance that was relatively uncrowded and set ourselves up.
The very first thing I noticed (once I was finished futzing with my blanket and chair) was the sky, followed closely by the water. I never believed the beautiful blue-green water was real, but it is. And the sky, as I have said before, was brilliant with its menagerie of cloud types. Most of the clouds were very distant, but they had so much sky that they seemed like giant ships cruising through a vast ocean in the air. They were gorgeous. Mike and Ian took pictures for me, and I look forward to seeing them.
I'm not sure how much time we actually spent out there, but it was apparently quite enough for me. In spite of my caution in applying a thick coat of sunscreen (waterproof spf 45), and reapplying while there, I still managed to get burned. I am sitting here, leaning forward while I type, to avoid having my back touch anything firmer than the braless shirt I am now wearing. Work will be interesting tomorrow, I'm sure. At least I don't have to wear pantyhose.
But, I am very glad I made it to the beach. My apartment is on the water, but not on a beach. So it was a special treat for me to see it finally.
And now my nails appear to be dry enough to go figure out what I'm going to wear tomorrow (and how I'll wear a bra) so that I can get ready for bed.
Friday, June 24, 2005
Backing Up
I was looking through some of my recent posts (I know they are all recent--just shut up and listen), and I noticed something very important I left out of the Eagles Play by Play. When I was a teenager, my sister and I would listen to Eagles record albums (on vinyl--big black dinner-plate sized discs if you don't recognize the word) and would challenge each other on who sang which songs. We usually agreed, but occassionally disagreed. But we always had fun with it. And we'd sing Eagles songs constantly while doing dishes together, which made the task go much faster and kept us from arguing over how to do it, since we both had our own way and thought the other should fall in line. We'd always get hung up on the words; especially on "Seven Bridges Road" and "The Last Resort." We'd fuss with each other until dishes were done and then go watch TV and forget all about it until next time.
Anyway, these memories roared through my brain the entire time I watched the concert on TV, and I think they added to the sentiments I was feeling. Even if I didn't truly love their music, I would still have a very strong connection to the band because of those memories.
Anyway, these memories roared through my brain the entire time I watched the concert on TV, and I think they added to the sentiments I was feeling. Even if I didn't truly love their music, I would still have a very strong connection to the band because of those memories.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Things I Love About Florida
Sky.
Knowing what a fool I am for a beautiful sky, there’s no reason to wonder about this first statement—the sky. The sky in Virginia was always very beautiful. The blue was brilliant, the clouds were big, puffy and white, the sunrises and sunsets were bold oranges, pinks, yellows, and purples. In winter the steal gray-blue was a solid, strong color. In Florida, the blue is also brilliant. The sunrises and sunsets are equally moving, but the colors are more pastel—more like quiet feet padding past your bedroom door to keep from startling you, whereas Virginia sunrises and sunsets are more like the pack of happy children who come running and squealing into your room and pounce on you to wake you with kisses, hugs, tickles, and giggles. “We’re here! We’re here! Come out and play!”
June in Florida is very rainy. There is a rain or thunder shower almost every afternoon. If one happened today, I didn’t see it, but then sometimes they are very brief and noninvasive. I love two things about these showers—not the humidity, and not the getting all wet part. I love the sky (again) and seeing the rain come across the water from my river view balcony.
I was a little distracted on my way home tonight because I was watching the amazing cloud formations that completely surrounded my area for miles. Actually, they still surround the area, though my view is blocked by my apartment, but I can still see what’s out there to the South. It’s beautiful, even at 8:30 in the evening. The reason it’s so beautiful to me is this: the cloud formations are so varied that it looks like an artist took a giant pallet and practiced every single type of cloud ever seen by anyone. This artist mingled them together so craftily that no one could possibly refute the ability of the hand that painted it all. There is shadow and light, shape and texture. Big white puffballs; Horse Tails; Thunder Heads; sweeping “Sky Mountains…” They’re all out there at the same time, and they play against each other beautifully.
The rain on the water is a special thing for me. I love to sit on the balcony and watch it approach across the-lagoon-that’s-called-a-river. It feels like someone is moving a blanket of coolness across me so I’ll sleep more comfortably. (If you weren’t paying attention, that’s the second reference to sleep—don’t worry, clarity will come.)
The size of the sky is just amazing. Really, it’s no bigger than it is everywhere else in the world. I think it’s just that there are fewer interruptions to the view. There are not very many tall buildings in this area, and the land is pretty flat, so more of the sky is visible. It gives me feeling of space that I enjoy a great deal.
Howard.
Howard is the tiny lizard who lives on my balcony and sometimes comes in the house to check things out. His body is only as long as 2/3 of my pinky. His tail makes him the length of my pinky plus 1/3. My pinky is a big fat cow sitting next to him because his little body is so lean. His head is smaller than 1/2 the size of my pinky nail. He comes in sometimes and mashes bugs in my kitchen. I like this—I hate cockroaches as much as I hate spiders; actually, spiders are fine as long as I don’t see them. They don’t crawl into my favorite cereal box or walk around in my coffee pot. At least, I don’t see them doing it. Anyway, back to Howard.
I gave him the name Howard because, to me, “Howard” is the kind of name you would give a fragile-looking young boy who is nerdy, scrawny, has braces and coke-bottle glasses. That little boy, if he is as brilliant as his nerdy demeanor suggests, will grow up to be the President/CEO/Mastermind behind a major software company, or some similar vocation. Either way, he makes good and his size, visual abilities, and crooked teeth are no barrier to the life of which he dreams.
My Howard is like that. As tiny and frail as he seems, he is very industrious and energetic in his obsession with teasing Binks and Mr. Bond by running across the wall in front of them. He seems to have figured out Bond’s height limit for jumping up the wall. I hope he is always as careful and lucky as he has been so far. I really like seeing him.
Sleep.
Here’s the clarity. Somehow, with the exception of last week when my bed was a sheet swamp full of cat fur, I have slept very well. So well, that I haven’t needed a full eight hours as in the past. Most nights I wake up in the same position I as when I fell asleep. I usually feel refreshed and ready to get moving…after I feed the fur-bellies, of course. I hardly ever wake up to find I’ve been fighting the aliens all night. Sometimes I do have to pick my pillows up from across the room, but it has nothing to do with aliens, real or dreamed. I occasionally have to throw pillows across the room at the cats to get them to stop fighting in the middle of the night. But, then I go back to sleep and everything’s fine in the morning.
My Commute.
The short route to work is 4.8 miles. The long route is 5.2 miles. Traffic is more than six cars at a light at the same time. I really like that.
Oh yeah, and there's water on my left almost the whole way there.
Knowing what a fool I am for a beautiful sky, there’s no reason to wonder about this first statement—the sky. The sky in Virginia was always very beautiful. The blue was brilliant, the clouds were big, puffy and white, the sunrises and sunsets were bold oranges, pinks, yellows, and purples. In winter the steal gray-blue was a solid, strong color. In Florida, the blue is also brilliant. The sunrises and sunsets are equally moving, but the colors are more pastel—more like quiet feet padding past your bedroom door to keep from startling you, whereas Virginia sunrises and sunsets are more like the pack of happy children who come running and squealing into your room and pounce on you to wake you with kisses, hugs, tickles, and giggles. “We’re here! We’re here! Come out and play!”
June in Florida is very rainy. There is a rain or thunder shower almost every afternoon. If one happened today, I didn’t see it, but then sometimes they are very brief and noninvasive. I love two things about these showers—not the humidity, and not the getting all wet part. I love the sky (again) and seeing the rain come across the water from my river view balcony.
I was a little distracted on my way home tonight because I was watching the amazing cloud formations that completely surrounded my area for miles. Actually, they still surround the area, though my view is blocked by my apartment, but I can still see what’s out there to the South. It’s beautiful, even at 8:30 in the evening. The reason it’s so beautiful to me is this: the cloud formations are so varied that it looks like an artist took a giant pallet and practiced every single type of cloud ever seen by anyone. This artist mingled them together so craftily that no one could possibly refute the ability of the hand that painted it all. There is shadow and light, shape and texture. Big white puffballs; Horse Tails; Thunder Heads; sweeping “Sky Mountains…” They’re all out there at the same time, and they play against each other beautifully.
The rain on the water is a special thing for me. I love to sit on the balcony and watch it approach across the-lagoon-that’s-called-a-river. It feels like someone is moving a blanket of coolness across me so I’ll sleep more comfortably. (If you weren’t paying attention, that’s the second reference to sleep—don’t worry, clarity will come.)
The size of the sky is just amazing. Really, it’s no bigger than it is everywhere else in the world. I think it’s just that there are fewer interruptions to the view. There are not very many tall buildings in this area, and the land is pretty flat, so more of the sky is visible. It gives me feeling of space that I enjoy a great deal.
Howard.
Howard is the tiny lizard who lives on my balcony and sometimes comes in the house to check things out. His body is only as long as 2/3 of my pinky. His tail makes him the length of my pinky plus 1/3. My pinky is a big fat cow sitting next to him because his little body is so lean. His head is smaller than 1/2 the size of my pinky nail. He comes in sometimes and mashes bugs in my kitchen. I like this—I hate cockroaches as much as I hate spiders; actually, spiders are fine as long as I don’t see them. They don’t crawl into my favorite cereal box or walk around in my coffee pot. At least, I don’t see them doing it. Anyway, back to Howard.
I gave him the name Howard because, to me, “Howard” is the kind of name you would give a fragile-looking young boy who is nerdy, scrawny, has braces and coke-bottle glasses. That little boy, if he is as brilliant as his nerdy demeanor suggests, will grow up to be the President/CEO/Mastermind behind a major software company, or some similar vocation. Either way, he makes good and his size, visual abilities, and crooked teeth are no barrier to the life of which he dreams.
My Howard is like that. As tiny and frail as he seems, he is very industrious and energetic in his obsession with teasing Binks and Mr. Bond by running across the wall in front of them. He seems to have figured out Bond’s height limit for jumping up the wall. I hope he is always as careful and lucky as he has been so far. I really like seeing him.
Sleep.
Here’s the clarity. Somehow, with the exception of last week when my bed was a sheet swamp full of cat fur, I have slept very well. So well, that I haven’t needed a full eight hours as in the past. Most nights I wake up in the same position I as when I fell asleep. I usually feel refreshed and ready to get moving…after I feed the fur-bellies, of course. I hardly ever wake up to find I’ve been fighting the aliens all night. Sometimes I do have to pick my pillows up from across the room, but it has nothing to do with aliens, real or dreamed. I occasionally have to throw pillows across the room at the cats to get them to stop fighting in the middle of the night. But, then I go back to sleep and everything’s fine in the morning.
My Commute.
The short route to work is 4.8 miles. The long route is 5.2 miles. Traffic is more than six cars at a light at the same time. I really like that.
Oh yeah, and there's water on my left almost the whole way there.
Friday, June 17, 2005
Humidity CURED
Hallelujah! Hosana Hey! I have cold air coursing through my apartment! It is a miracle of miracles!
Or was it the 10 calls to the management office this morning? Nah, I only made 2 calls before she finally called me back and explained the situation. Apparently there are about 20 apartments AT THIS SITE that had AC problems and other such things happen this week. Odd, considering it was just an old part, but OK. And other sites owned by this management company had other issues going on at the same time. So, when she told me originally that she would open a work order for me, the odd face she made REALLY meant "Oh My God, not another one!" I had originally translated it as "Oh My God, she must be from up North and can't take a little heat!"
Glad to know I was wrong on that. And also glad she took pity on me and bumped me up to the top 5 in the list. So when I came home from work today and opened my door, I was greeted by 2 hungry cats and one GLORIOUSLY COOL AND COMFY APARTMENT. The cats didn't let me stop and enjoy the air until they had food in their dishes, but I soon stripped off shoes and socks and let my feet feel the cool floor. What a nice feeling.
I can tell I'm going to have a hard time when the hurricanes come and bang up the electric, but at least now I know I'll survive the event as long as I can take cold showers about every 2 hours or so... :)
Off to enjoy my air some more. Think I will crank it for just tonight before I turn it down to a modest 74. It's only fair; I've been sweating my rather large rump off for days (with no positive effect, I might add).
Ta!
Or was it the 10 calls to the management office this morning? Nah, I only made 2 calls before she finally called me back and explained the situation. Apparently there are about 20 apartments AT THIS SITE that had AC problems and other such things happen this week. Odd, considering it was just an old part, but OK. And other sites owned by this management company had other issues going on at the same time. So, when she told me originally that she would open a work order for me, the odd face she made REALLY meant "Oh My God, not another one!" I had originally translated it as "Oh My God, she must be from up North and can't take a little heat!"
Glad to know I was wrong on that. And also glad she took pity on me and bumped me up to the top 5 in the list. So when I came home from work today and opened my door, I was greeted by 2 hungry cats and one GLORIOUSLY COOL AND COMFY APARTMENT. The cats didn't let me stop and enjoy the air until they had food in their dishes, but I soon stripped off shoes and socks and let my feet feel the cool floor. What a nice feeling.
I can tell I'm going to have a hard time when the hurricanes come and bang up the electric, but at least now I know I'll survive the event as long as I can take cold showers about every 2 hours or so... :)
Off to enjoy my air some more. Think I will crank it for just tonight before I turn it down to a modest 74. It's only fair; I've been sweating my rather large rump off for days (with no positive effect, I might add).
Ta!
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Humidity Cubed
So now it's the 16th. I came home on the evening of the 13th. I haven't had AC this whole time. This is an area where patience is no longer a virtue; it is idiotic. I have called the building management and left them messages, and I have called the emergency maintenance number and left pages. No one has bothered to contact me in reference to this situation.
My cats are wilted. I am wilted. The cats clearly want to play, but being completely inside cats, they are not accustomed to this heat and humidity, so they are not doing anything but lying around and staring at me with questioning eyes. The eyes ask me questions like, "Why haven't you fixed this yet?" I have things that need doing in my apartment, but I can't because it's a freakin' sauna. I sweat sitting perfectly still.
To add to this dilemma, there is another Thunderstorm Warning. Last night's thunderstorm sent rain flying into the balcony. You may remember that my "temporary" rig was a large fan placed in front of the AC unit--on the balcony. Yep, rain in the fan. Not my idea of a safe alternative. I turned off the AC and brought the fan into the house. Then I moved it everywhere I went. It's a big fan.
I took it to my room at bedtime, opened the windows wide, and put it on full blast, just like before. The rain did not come through the window, so this worked alright without being an electrical hazard. The other thing that helped was the very cold shower I stood in for about 10 minutes right before I went to bed.
It's not very helpful in the morning, though. The cool air doesn't reach the bathroom, so even after rinsing in cold for 5 minutes at the end of my shower, I come out dripping sweat along with shower water. Drying off only lasts as long as it takes for the towel to pass over a section of skin. I haven't done my hair or put on makeup since I came back. There's no point. My hair is frizzed before I finish combing it and my makeup runs right off my face from sweat before I finish applying it. I find it very irritating.
So, now, while I'm waiting in vane for a call from the maintenance folks, I'm watching Disney's "The Sword in the Stone" (again) and enjoying a nice glass of wine. I'm not doing laundry, because I'm hot and sweaty. I'm not cleaning up my cluttery, messy apartment, because I'm hot and sweaty. I'm not playing or cuddling with my cats, because we're all three hot and sweaty. So, I'll drink my wine and watch my movie and study the new information I got at work today.
And tomorrow, I'll call the flippin' management office every ten minutes until they do something about this. Don't get me wrong--I understand there may be other things going on, but I was promised the guy would be back the next day. He could at least call me and tell me he's not coming, and why. And I know that I am in hurricane season down here, and I could lose my AC for even longer. But there hasn't been a hurricane in my town. I am the only person I know of, in this building, whose AC had some part burn out. No one else around me is complaining about any such problems. SO FIX MY FRICKIN' AC!
My cats are wilted. I am wilted. The cats clearly want to play, but being completely inside cats, they are not accustomed to this heat and humidity, so they are not doing anything but lying around and staring at me with questioning eyes. The eyes ask me questions like, "Why haven't you fixed this yet?" I have things that need doing in my apartment, but I can't because it's a freakin' sauna. I sweat sitting perfectly still.
To add to this dilemma, there is another Thunderstorm Warning. Last night's thunderstorm sent rain flying into the balcony. You may remember that my "temporary" rig was a large fan placed in front of the AC unit--on the balcony. Yep, rain in the fan. Not my idea of a safe alternative. I turned off the AC and brought the fan into the house. Then I moved it everywhere I went. It's a big fan.
I took it to my room at bedtime, opened the windows wide, and put it on full blast, just like before. The rain did not come through the window, so this worked alright without being an electrical hazard. The other thing that helped was the very cold shower I stood in for about 10 minutes right before I went to bed.
It's not very helpful in the morning, though. The cool air doesn't reach the bathroom, so even after rinsing in cold for 5 minutes at the end of my shower, I come out dripping sweat along with shower water. Drying off only lasts as long as it takes for the towel to pass over a section of skin. I haven't done my hair or put on makeup since I came back. There's no point. My hair is frizzed before I finish combing it and my makeup runs right off my face from sweat before I finish applying it. I find it very irritating.
So, now, while I'm waiting in vane for a call from the maintenance folks, I'm watching Disney's "The Sword in the Stone" (again) and enjoying a nice glass of wine. I'm not doing laundry, because I'm hot and sweaty. I'm not cleaning up my cluttery, messy apartment, because I'm hot and sweaty. I'm not playing or cuddling with my cats, because we're all three hot and sweaty. So, I'll drink my wine and watch my movie and study the new information I got at work today.
And tomorrow, I'll call the flippin' management office every ten minutes until they do something about this. Don't get me wrong--I understand there may be other things going on, but I was promised the guy would be back the next day. He could at least call me and tell me he's not coming, and why. And I know that I am in hurricane season down here, and I could lose my AC for even longer. But there hasn't been a hurricane in my town. I am the only person I know of, in this building, whose AC had some part burn out. No one else around me is complaining about any such problems. SO FIX MY FRICKIN' AC!
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Humidity Squared
So, the set up with the fan on the grid thing didn't do much good. The apartment never got below 80 degrees, and even the humidity stayed where it was. I finally deserted the cats (after giving them more fresh water) and ran away to the movies to cool off.
The upside is, I finally got to see Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. I even enjoyed it. Well, except for the cartoonish way General Grieves wrung his hands; that was a little much. But overall, the story went as I expected and I enjoyed how the film makers took it there. They botched one point that bothers me. I remember Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia having a conversation where Luke asked Leia if she remembered her mother. Leia remembered how sad her mother was. It would make sense that she would remember her mother's sadness if Amadala had actually survived the childbirth, but she didn't. How does Leia remember ANYTHING? Is this part of her little bit of Jedi that she has?
Anyway, back to the point of my ranting. I finished the movie, and with dread, I returned to the sauna (read: apartment). Yep, still 80 and humid. I expect thunder storms to break out inside here any minute.
I gave up with the blasted fan/grid/rig thing. I unplugged my great big fan, wrastled it back to my room and put in on top of my dresser, right in front of the windows that I cranked open as far as they'd go. Then I turned the sucker on full blast and set it to rotate. I turned the AC off so it wouldn't blow up. Now the rest of the apartment is approaching 85 (in just 20 short minutes--thunder storms I tell you) and I am giving up on the lot and going to my breezy bedroom to sweat in the sheets with cat fur stuck to my skin.
More on this adventure after the guy comes back with the part. If this doesn't work, I'm moving into the refrigerator.
The upside is, I finally got to see Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. I even enjoyed it. Well, except for the cartoonish way General Grieves wrung his hands; that was a little much. But overall, the story went as I expected and I enjoyed how the film makers took it there. They botched one point that bothers me. I remember Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia having a conversation where Luke asked Leia if she remembered her mother. Leia remembered how sad her mother was. It would make sense that she would remember her mother's sadness if Amadala had actually survived the childbirth, but she didn't. How does Leia remember ANYTHING? Is this part of her little bit of Jedi that she has?
Anyway, back to the point of my ranting. I finished the movie, and with dread, I returned to the sauna (read: apartment). Yep, still 80 and humid. I expect thunder storms to break out inside here any minute.
I gave up with the blasted fan/grid/rig thing. I unplugged my great big fan, wrastled it back to my room and put in on top of my dresser, right in front of the windows that I cranked open as far as they'd go. Then I turned the sucker on full blast and set it to rotate. I turned the AC off so it wouldn't blow up. Now the rest of the apartment is approaching 85 (in just 20 short minutes--thunder storms I tell you) and I am giving up on the lot and going to my breezy bedroom to sweat in the sheets with cat fur stuck to my skin.
More on this adventure after the guy comes back with the part. If this doesn't work, I'm moving into the refrigerator.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Humidity
Humidity is not my friend. Really. I live in one of the most humid places not located in a third world country or some exotic jungle. That’s it—Florida. Florida reaches levels of humidity that are capable of creating oceans of sweat on the most lizard-like people. I am not even a little bit lizard-like. I make my own heat—just ask my ex-husband.
I spent the weekend on a camping trip in Virginia with several people of varying levels of heat-love. I spent as much time as I could doing things like sitting in the shade playing card games and reading. Or I’d sit in the wading pool that someone set up down the hill. I really don’t like humidity. Hot is OK to a point, but put a bunch of humidity in there with it and I just get unhappy.
I returned from my trip last night. My friend who took care of Binks and Mr. Bond for me had turned the air back down for me so the house would be cooler. I appreciated that immensely.
The only problem is, somewhere along the line, my air conditioner decided it wasn’t playing that game. It had an easy week with me gone, and it wanted to continue relaxing. I had other ideas, like not sleeping in a sheet swamp, with cat hair sticking to my skin.
At least I had my big fan set up and blowing full blast on me the whole night. Binks wasn’t really crazy about the noise so he mostly left me alone, but Mr. Bond decided it was fun and he got playful.
Today was my last day of vacation, so I could be here all day for someone to come fix it. I went down to the office as soon as it opened and told them about my problem. The lady in the office said she’d get a work order started for me. That was at 8:30. At 1:30, two guys showed up with hoses and tools and things and looked at my AC unit. Sigh.
It has a bad something or other that won’t work unless air is blowing across this grill thing. Great, so make the air go across the grill thing. Not that easy, of course. The part that makes all this happen isn’t available in my tiny little town. The repair man is going down south about an hour to get it. Great.
But he’s set me up with a temporary rig in the meantime. My extremely useful fan from last night is now stationed directly in from of the grill thing, out on my balcony. An extension cord is plugged in at the living room and runs out there to keep the fan blowing full time. So I can have the AC going for now, with somewhat less result than I would like. But it’s better than flat out humidity. He says he’ll be back tomorrow as early as he can to put the part on the AC for me, so I can get back to normal.
Hurray.
I spent the weekend on a camping trip in Virginia with several people of varying levels of heat-love. I spent as much time as I could doing things like sitting in the shade playing card games and reading. Or I’d sit in the wading pool that someone set up down the hill. I really don’t like humidity. Hot is OK to a point, but put a bunch of humidity in there with it and I just get unhappy.
I returned from my trip last night. My friend who took care of Binks and Mr. Bond for me had turned the air back down for me so the house would be cooler. I appreciated that immensely.
The only problem is, somewhere along the line, my air conditioner decided it wasn’t playing that game. It had an easy week with me gone, and it wanted to continue relaxing. I had other ideas, like not sleeping in a sheet swamp, with cat hair sticking to my skin.
At least I had my big fan set up and blowing full blast on me the whole night. Binks wasn’t really crazy about the noise so he mostly left me alone, but Mr. Bond decided it was fun and he got playful.
Today was my last day of vacation, so I could be here all day for someone to come fix it. I went down to the office as soon as it opened and told them about my problem. The lady in the office said she’d get a work order started for me. That was at 8:30. At 1:30, two guys showed up with hoses and tools and things and looked at my AC unit. Sigh.
It has a bad something or other that won’t work unless air is blowing across this grill thing. Great, so make the air go across the grill thing. Not that easy, of course. The part that makes all this happen isn’t available in my tiny little town. The repair man is going down south about an hour to get it. Great.
But he’s set me up with a temporary rig in the meantime. My extremely useful fan from last night is now stationed directly in from of the grill thing, out on my balcony. An extension cord is plugged in at the living room and runs out there to keep the fan blowing full time. So I can have the AC going for now, with somewhat less result than I would like. But it’s better than flat out humidity. He says he’ll be back tomorrow as early as he can to put the part on the AC for me, so I can get back to normal.
Hurray.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Eagles on TV Play by Play - Not
Ok, so, I'm a hard and fast fan of the Eagles--the musical group not the sports team. And in all my years of being a fan, I have never seen them live in concert. So tonight, I'm talking to a friend on the phone while flipping channels on TV, and what do I find but the Eagles doing a concert from their Farewell 1 Tour.
I'm now a very happy camper. And the friend I was talking to forgives me for being distracted and breaking out into random rifs of Hotel California. No, I don't play a guitar--I sing the guitar parts. Yes, really.
Eagles music is absolutely some of the best music in the world for someone who loves to sing along with the singers AND the instruments. Since I have a background in Classical Music (thank you CNU), I also have the mobility and range to play around with guitar parts that hop up and down like the Eagles like to do. So my friend occassionally pulled the phone away from his ear to avoid deafness.
Hmmm... I wonder if my neighbors forgive me too... Oh well. I've been caterwauling since I moved in and they've never banged on my door, wall, or floor for it yet.
Holy Cow! Joe Walsh is doing "Rocky Mountain Way." FANTASTIC, BABY! Ok, he should only sing; he sounds really stoned and confused when he speaks.
So, as you can tell, I'm having a pretty groovy night tonight! Yay! Yep, in my heart, I rock this big.
Well, I'm still in love with Timothy B. Schmidt. All that beautiful, long brown hair... Shiver. He shouldn't speak either; but he can sing to me all he wants. :)
Ok, I've drooled all over myself, I've deafened my friends on the phone, and I expect to hear from the neighbors any time now. So, I'll sign off here and finish enjoying the show. Wish I were there for real, but this will do nicely as a substitute.
I'm now a very happy camper. And the friend I was talking to forgives me for being distracted and breaking out into random rifs of Hotel California. No, I don't play a guitar--I sing the guitar parts. Yes, really.
Eagles music is absolutely some of the best music in the world for someone who loves to sing along with the singers AND the instruments. Since I have a background in Classical Music (thank you CNU), I also have the mobility and range to play around with guitar parts that hop up and down like the Eagles like to do. So my friend occassionally pulled the phone away from his ear to avoid deafness.
Hmmm... I wonder if my neighbors forgive me too... Oh well. I've been caterwauling since I moved in and they've never banged on my door, wall, or floor for it yet.
Holy Cow! Joe Walsh is doing "Rocky Mountain Way." FANTASTIC, BABY! Ok, he should only sing; he sounds really stoned and confused when he speaks.
So, as you can tell, I'm having a pretty groovy night tonight! Yay! Yep, in my heart, I rock this big.
Well, I'm still in love with Timothy B. Schmidt. All that beautiful, long brown hair... Shiver. He shouldn't speak either; but he can sing to me all he wants. :)
Ok, I've drooled all over myself, I've deafened my friends on the phone, and I expect to hear from the neighbors any time now. So, I'll sign off here and finish enjoying the show. Wish I were there for real, but this will do nicely as a substitute.
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