Bowl of Self-Esteem

I got married on Saturday, August 15th. And it was an absolute blast. It was everything I hoped it would be. Namely, my sisters sang with pretend microphones all night and when it was over I didn't drive Tom home. Mission accomplished.

So, married Saturday, dying of some horrible infection on Tuesday. What was it? "In sickness and in health"? 90% of our marriage thus far has been the sickness part. I blame the air conditioner. Before I moved to Massachusetts 2 years ago, my future landlady (and unbeknownst to me, archnemesis) called and said that her current tenant had an air conditioner that she wouldn't need in her next apartment. I could purchase it from her at a discount. At the time I was living in Alabama in July and an air conditioner sounded like the best idea ever.

So, I bought it. Moved here and realized that my apartment stayed 20 degrees cooler than the rest of the world. Which was great in the summer. Pretty miserable in the winter. But that's beside the point. We took the unit out of the window when cold air started coming in, and it sat in the closet ever after. 2 years. Bottom of the closet. Never cleaned.

When we got back to our new house (yay new house no landlady woo!) after the wedding, it was 1000 degrees. Really. I used a candy thermometer. So, we put the A/C in the window and cranked that bad boy up. I woke up sounding like a 40 pack year smoker. Hmmm. Maybe I wasn't used to air conditioning. It'll be okay. Used it again the next night, woke up even froggier. And a little sniffly.

Me: "Do window units have air filters or anything on them?"
Tom: "Yeah."
Me: "Did we clean it before we used it?"
Tom: "I don't think so."
Me: "We should probably do that."

Pull out the filter. It is DISGUSTING. It is black with filth. Covered with mold and other particles that I have been breathing for two nights. Awesome. So, we clean it, pop it back in and hope for the best. The next morning I can't breathe. But as the day progresses I feel better and I assume I've caught a cold on top of the horrible allergic reaction that started the week. I do a 24 hour shift, and things go downhill from there. On Thursday I ended up having to get someone to relieve me at work because I was too sick to be on the hospital unit. The nurses were all eyeing me. Hello our patients are already sick, they don't need whatever you have too.

Went home and decided to try to have a bowl of soup to soothe my throat. I went to the cabinet to pull out a bowl, and there was my trusty "Bowl of Self-Esteem." It was a graduation gift from my master's thesis advisor, and it's my favorite bowl because it will hold an entire package of ramen noodles in broth without coming anywhere near spilling. It's a huge bowl. I only use it when I'm sick, but it never fails. When it gets to the point that I'm resorting to ramen, there's the bowl ready to go. I realized for the first time why this is. Because it is the largest, the bowl of self-esteem is always at the bottom of the stack. It's always ready to go when I am at my sickest because at that point, EVERY OTHER DISH AND BOWL THAT I OWN IS DIRTY. When I am sick, my house becomes a sty.

It took me 4 years to figure this out. Before I just assumed it was magical and sensed when it was needed. Because apparently when I am sick I super-anthropomorphize my dishes. Awesome.

So, I finally went to the doctor on Friday where I was dosed with antibiotics and narcotic cough syrup. I slept 12 hours that night and woke up a much happier camper. Completely better now, and the bowl is back at the bottom of the stack where it belongs. Hopefully I can stay well long enough to make it to my honeymoon on Saturday. :)

The Kid Is Not My Son

I promise that some day my blog will become something more than a repository of hatred for my landlady.

But not today.

So yesterday I was working at a hospital until about 5 PM. I got home, changed clothes, and received a phone call from my landlady. It's 5:15.

Her: "Hey, there might be someone coming to see the apartment."
Me: "Okay, when?"
Her: "Possibly at 5:45."
Me: "You couldn't give me any more notice than this?!"
Her: "Well, they called this morning and I told them to call back to confirm and they haven't called back. So I'm not even sure whether they're coming...I'd say it's about 50/50."
Me: "Okay, well I have to clean up."
Her: "Well, don't do too much, I don't think they're even coming."

So I get up and dump out the bucket of mop water that's been sitting in the kitchen since the day before. Try to wash the dishes really quickly. Take the giant pile of laundry that I was going to do prior to being called into work and stuff it into a hamper. Try to start cleaning the tub a little when the doorbell rings. Awesome. It's the landlady, and her totally annoying 3 year old. It's 5:20.

Her: "They're definitely coming."
Me: "When?"
Her: "They said they'd be here by 5:30."
Me: "Awesome."

So she's standing in my living room and I can hear her scolding her kid to quit touching things. Meanwhile I am STORMING around upstairs, throwing things in closets, making up the bed, slamming doors, muttering. I go downstairs and she's just staring out holding the kid who is making a fuss. He wants to rip all the DVDs off my shelves. She's grabbing him and telling him to stop but he's still having a tantrum. Also he's wearing nothing but a shirt and a diaper, his face is filthy, and he has some dirty little bootie things on.

Her: "Nobody's going to rent this place if he starts screaming."
Me: "Yeah. Want me to turn on a movie for him?"

Keep in mind that I have a vested interest in this apartment being rented. If she doesn't find a renter by the end of July, I'm paying for August even though we'll be living in the new house by then. I have no desire to pay for this friggin' apartment when I'm not even living here. I can barely bring myself to pay when I am.

Her: "Yeah, if you don't mind, that'd be great."

Of course he wants to watch Monsters Inc, which is not in its case. I try to talk him into any one of the 50 other children's movies I have (Muppet Movie? Madagascar? Alice in Wonderland? Babe? How old am I again?) and he is not having it. The landlady finally says to throw on Little Mermaid and he'll watch it. So I do. As I'm turning on the DVD, the potential renters park on the street. Meanwhile her child is still fussing and yelling that he'd rather watch "Monster movie!"

Her: "Here they are."
Kids still fussing.
Her: "He's not my kid..." (I think she's joking)
And greets the potential renters.

My plan at this point is to turn on the movie, hop in my car, and come back in a half an hour as I've done with every other showing.

The people walk in, the landlady introduces herself to them, and then steps over her kid and I and says "I guess they're going to watch a movie." Then takes the renters upstairs.

I am stuck downstairs and she has just passed her child off as mine. How did that just happen?!??

She's upstairs with them, kid is watching the movie with occasional bouts of "I hate this." I'm wondering if there's any way I can leave this kid sitting here alone without him tearing apart everything I own. 5 minutes in, he hops out of his chair and takes off out the front door. I run after him, grab him, and tell him to plant his butt back in the chair. He behaved the rest of the time. But clearly, if I'd ditched him he would've run into traffic.

The renters have no interest in the apartment and leave. The landlady turns to me and says, smiling:

"They thought he was yours. He looks more like you anyway." And leaves.

I am living in some kind of surreal nightmare world where my landlady is on crazy pills and has no idea how incredibly inappropriate she is. Her poor kid.

Thank-You Note

Dear Carolyn,

Thank you for the lovely wedding gift. We're putting the Lazy Susan to good use. :)

Love,
Sam

I Can't Live Here Anymore

As you all well know, my landlady is the worst human being ever to have walked this earth. I'm pretty sure she lives to inconvenience me. Tom and I are in the process of purchasing a house, and every ten minutes I look up and say, "I want to go live in my houuuuse." He has interpreted this as a quality that he never knew about- "You are incredibly impatient." But I don't think that's correct. It's just that every ten minutes it dawns on me that I still live in the same house as this horrible woman- and it dawns on me because I live in constant fear of the next thing she's going to do to completely piss me off.

So, last week she puts a note in my mailbox that she received from the city. The city will be flushing the water mains on every street, so you should check the city website every evening and if they're going to be flushing your street the next day you should go ahead and put some water in pots and pans, or shower the night before. The flushing would only be taking place between 8 AM and 4 PM however, so when you get home you should be all set...just run the water til it's not cloudy anymore. She reiterated the message on the note when I saw her outside later that day- "I don't want a bunch of sediment in my pipes, so make sure you check and don't turn on the water the day that they're flushing." Okay, 'nuff said.

Yesterday was the first day that flushing would be taking place. But, I had a class to attend in Northern China and was therefore gone for most of the day. I didn't get home til about 6 PM. When I got home, the water seemed a little cloudy so I checked the website. My street was completed- the flush had been done that morning. Sweet. I go to pick Tom up from work, stop by the grocery store so I can make dinner, and come home with a plan to run the water until it turns clear and move on with my life. I walk into the kitchen, turn on the faucet, and it's a trickle. Apparently the only reason the toilet flushed and I was able to wash my hands when I got home was that there was that much water left in the system.

So, I call my landlady.
Me: "Hi, is your water working? Mine is off."
Her: "Oh, well they're flushing the water mains, remember?"
Me: "Yes, from 8 AM to 4 PM. It's 7 and my water is off."
Her: "I don't know, I'm not home. That's strange..."
Me: "Well, will you call me when you get home and let me know what's going on?"
Her: "Yeah, I'll be home in about an hour. OH! Oh...it's in the basement...it's....um.....you'll have water later."
Click.

I look at Tom and say, "I'm pretty sure that she turned off the water." So, I can't make dinner, I can't flush the toilet, I can't have a glass of water. Luckily what I really needed at that point was a beer, and I did have that readily accessible. A couple of Tom's brothers came over and hung out (played cards and listened to me call my landlady a whorebag) for a while. So, 2 hours after the initial phone call, I've had some beer and would like to use my bathroom again. I'd also really like to eat some friggin' dinner since it's 9 PM. I call her back:

Me: "Hi, it's me again."
Her: "Hey, what's up?"
Me: "Is there something I can do to get the water back on?"
Her: "You mean it's not back on yet?"
Me: "Should it be? I'll check....nope. Still not on."
Her: "Okay, well I'm having like the worst night ever at work, I was supposed to be home 3 hours ago. Can you just let me deal with this? I'll be home later."
Me: "Well, I'd really like to be able to use my toilet, and it's 9 PM and I haven't been able to make dinner yet. Is there something I can just do to turn the water back on?"
Her: "No. I don't want you touching anything. I'll figure out what's going on when I get home. Could you just order out? I'm just having a terrible night."
Me: "Fine bye."

SHE IS SUCH A TERRIBLE PERSON! Okay, so a few points.
1. "It's not back on yet?" Don't act like the water was going to turn itself back on. You know damn well you turned off the water without notifying me, and then didn't remember to turn it back on before you left the house for the next 6 hours. Don't lie to me. I'm not an idiot. And I hate you.
2. "I'm having the worst night ever at work." I work with dead people. You manage real estate. And half the time you don't have the courtesy to leave my parking space open when I get home after a 24 hour shift. Go screw yourself.
3. "Could you just order out?" Are you gonna pay for it? I just signed up for a mortgage. I cannot afford to order out. Again, screw.

So, she gets home around 10 PM, immediately the water magically reappears. Do you think she calls to let me know the water is back on? Nope. I hate her so much it makes me want to punch a hole in the wall.

This morning she calls. Is it to apologize for turning off the water? Hellz no.
Her: "Hey Sam, I just wanted to remind you that they're flushing the water mains."
Me: "They did it yesterday."
Her: "No, I just called the city and they said that they were on Florence Street today. If you remember, the sheet said that it didn't even start until today."
Me: "No, the sheet said it started yesterday. I checked the website last night and it said our street was completed. And if they didn't do it yesterday then why the hell was my water off last night?"
Her: "The water was off because I turned it off. Last time they did this I got all kinds of sediment it my house and I didn't want that happening again so I turned off the water."
Me: "Well, it's nice of you to let me know you were going to do that."
Her: "I'm going to call them back because I was here all day yesterday and I don't think they flushed the pipes. I'll call you back."

I swear to God if she's going to turn the water off again today I'm going to call and get myself kicked out of this apartment.

Her: "You're right. They did it yesterday. They must've done it after I left."
Me: "Fine. Bye."

I'm not impatient. I just have to get away from her. I want to go live in my new houuuuuuse.

Lester

I got home from the dress fitting and was trying to unload stuff from the car when I realized that my landlady was standing right next to me.

Me: "What's up?"
Her: "We have a bit of a situation here."
Me: "What's wrong?"
Her: "There's a baby possum trapped in one of the recycling bins."
Me: "Let it out."
Her: "But it's daytime and they're nocturnal!"
Me: "It can take a nap when it gets home."
Her: "Do you know what they eat?"
Me: "You want to feed it?? They eat anything. They eat garbage! I'm sure if you let it get close enough it will try to eat your face." (please please test that theory)
Her: "Well, I put some grass in there with it."
Me: "I don't think it's going to eat grass. It'll eat dog food, but really you should just throw it somewhere."
Her: "But it's a baby!"
Me: "It's a rat."
Her: "Do you think if I tip the bin over tonight its mother will come get it?"
Me: "Sure." (actual answer: no)
Her: "If I pick it up do you think it'll bite?"
Me: "Absolutely."
Her: "Even though it's a baby?"
Me: "If it was a baby, it'd still be living in its mother's pouch. That thing is on its own and I guarantee it has teeth. Either let it out or call Animal Control."
Her: "I'm sorry, I'm a city girl. You're the one from the country, that's why I'm asking you!"
Me: "In the country, someone would shoot it."
Her (looking horrified): "I'll go get some dog food."
Me: "See you later."

This is the first thing I think of when I think of possums. Thank you Disney for taking over my mind. Also, the little yodeling girl is hilaarious in this video. We used to tease my sister for looking like her.

Priorities

The bridal store called to confirm the appointment I'd made for a fitting.

Salesperson: "Be sure to bring the underwear and shoes you'll be wearing on the wedding day."
Me: "Okay, thanks."

So, since then I've been trying to find shoes to wear. Today, I was getting ready to leave and still didn't have my shoes. Scramble, finally just grab a pair of heels- I figure it really can't matter that much since my dress is short and won't need to have the length altered. And hustle out the door.

Halfway to the store I realize.

I left the dress at home.

There's really no excuse for being this stupid.

Things That Have Happened to Me Lately

First, I was completely tricked by Tom's entire family. A few weeks before Mother's Day, Tom's sister calls and says she's planning a Mother's Day brunch. She's making all the arrangements, she just wants to see if I'd be off work. I told her I was off that weekend, and would plan to at least make an appearance. My sister was going to be in town and I didn't want to make her go to Tom's family function since she doesn't really know them very well. However, the time comes and she seems fine with going. I have a gift for Tom's mother, wrap it, and we show up at the restaurant. There are gifts and a couple tables full of people. I walk up and Tom's sister says, "This is for you. SURPRISE!"

I totally don't believe them. Also, I'm holding my new nephew Jimmy who I looooove.

It was actually a surprise bridal shower that I had NO idea was coming. I actually didn't even believe them until I saw a couple of my friends there. It was totally awesome, and I cannot BELIEVE they fooled me so completely. My sister is evil, and Tom's family is surprisingly sneaky.

I just realized they weren't kidding. And poor Jimmy's losing his hat.

Later that night, we had my bachelorette party (which I did know about) and this happened.

Enough said.

So, partying done, Tom and I began seriously house hunting. I hate my landlady with the fire of a thousand hells, and want to get out of here. We figured, might as well buy a house instead of having to stuff all our belongings into yet another apartment. Can I just tell you? Open houses SUUUUUUCK. We must've gone to 30 of the stupid things. And apparently the people most affected by this recession are those who 1. own cats, 2. never clean up after said cats, 3. smoke lots of cigarettes while watching the cats pee on every inch of their home. I would leave every house sneezing and retching. It was awful.

So, Tom and I found a house. We walk in, it doesn't smell like cat pee, sold! We actually sign the purchase & sale agreement on the house today, and close July 29th. So, those of you who are coming to our wedding can see the house while you're here. Because I will be living there. And it will be awesome. I have a bunch of photos, but I feel bad posting them here since most of them are full of the current owners' stuff. So, I'll just post a photo of the front.

My crib.

Besides home-buying and wedding planning, it's also been crazy at work. Which of course, means that I have another lovely tale of truckdom for you. As you know, every wheel on my car has fallen off and been reattached at some point. So the other day I was driving home (after using an entire tank of gas in one day...I drove to almost every state in New England) and all of a sudden I hear a clatter. I think that maybe I've run over a bottle? I look in the rear view mirror and see....my spare tire. It has fallen off of the bottom of my truck (apparently the cable that holds it there had rusted through) and is rolling around in 4 lanes of traffic. People are swerving left and right. I am soon going to be responsible for someone's death. Of course by the time I notice it, I'm 5 cars ahead of the tire and can't turn around because I'm on a one-way street. I take a left on the next street so that I can loop around, but it's taking awhile. Of course, this happened to me right at 5 PM. I call the police and tell them the situation.

Operator: "Ma'am, I need to know exactly what street you're on so I can dispatch an officer."
Me: "Umm...I have no idea. It's near the Mass pike, I don't know what street. Hang on. When I circle back I'll read you the street sign."
Operator: "Okay."
Me: "Ok! It's Center Street. Hang on...the cars are stopped at a light, I think I can get the tire."
Operator: "Okay, just let me know."

So I jump out of the car, still on my cell phone, did I mention it's pouring rain? Cause it is. And of course the tire is in the middle lane of traffic, I go to lift it and HOLY CRAP SPARE TIRES ARE HEAVY. Probably doesn't help when they're wet and caked with mud. I can't really pick it up, so I roll it toward the bed of my truck. But then I really do need to lift it because cars are coming, i'm still on the phone, it's still raining, and I'm going to die soon. I heave it up over the side of the truck, toss it in the bed, and get back in the car. I tell the operator that I got the tire and the cops get to stay out of the rain.

And that is how I got a tire track across my arm. It has been a loooong month.