com·mit·ted : Storm Clouds

Chapter 2: Storm Clouds

Where last we left our superhero, she was driving into the darkness towards the great state of Neuvo Jersey. The time line to follow brings up through the darkness into the morning and the storm ahead.

4:30 am - I want to get going, but since I should look half way presentable I should do my hair. Unfortunately with the commute (2+ hours according to GPS, mapquest, google maps... you know, reliable sources) I have ahead... drying and straightening isn't in the cards. Instead, I decide to curl it out. I put some lovely scrunching moose up in there and scrunch all my newly cut hair - clipping them up in hopes when I get to my final destination I can have the kind of waves that most can only dream of. Ah the simplicity of how I thought my day would be.

4:45 am - I stop for coffee & gas on my way out. D&D doesn't open until 5am. While I await for my delicious and life affirming ice coffee to be made I remember a to do line item that did not get completed the day before. I had let my AAA membership lapse. I have needed it before, and just in case - what can it hurt? I used the time wisely and god bless my phone - put it to good use. AAA Membership, check. By the time I get my coffee, gas up the car and fill out the membership form & pay for it - I'm back on the road at 5:20. I take a screenshot of my phone for safety sake. Oh safety sake.
6:20 am - I ask for some feet on the street, a friend in Neuvo Jersey has stepped forward and will be my weather girl in the area.

6:40 am - Despite my best efforts to get to Jerz before the snow starts, the snow starts at 6:40am and I am still in New York.

7:00 am - I stop to get gas, more coffee and possibly get rid of some of the poisonous pessimistic feelings I had inside. I wrote the following email. All the truth, all things told... I thought traffic was as bad I was going to see it.

I believe I'm screwed.
I believe I've been driving for 2+ hrs.
I believe every time reset my GPS the travel time is 2+ hrs.
I believe when I started my journey it said 2+ hrs.
I believe I have Barb giving weather updates.
I believe that I will never get there.

8:02 am - As I make my way towards the armpit of America I take a call from Nat, someone who understands at the heart of it all what it is like to have a black cloud hovering around you when you set out to take a simple trip. Just the other day I poked fun at her own travel karma to which I attribute the following hours of my trip. As I poke fun, the storm clouds align and ahead of me the storm awaits.

Nat:Why oh why must my friend send me the weather report for Friday when I'm supposed to be flying into the eye of a Nor'easter? oh well, sounds like i might have something to blog about at the end of this week...

February 23 at 6:31pm · Comments

Christine: at least your in the air!!! I'll be on the ground driving through it. February 23 at 6:53pm

me: Oh Christine, you think she'll be in the air?! Obviously I'll have to catch you up on Nat's travel 'luck.' ;) February 23 at 9:16pm

Dava: That is quite the story! Nat may be on the ground at Logan for the weekend. Pack snacks, Nat!!! February 23 at 9:20pm

Nat:you people are so mean! February 24 at 3:50pm

Note to self: what is mean is karma. She's a bitch and a cold hearted snake. She kicked ass and took mine, namely mine.

com·mit·ted : Before the Storm

Main Entry: com·mit·ment
Pronunciation: \kə-ˈmit-mənt\

Function: noun

1 an act of committing to a charge or trust: as (1) : a consignment to a penal or mental institution (2) : an act of referring a matter to a legislative committee 2 a : an agreement or pledge to do something in the future; especially : an engagement to assume a financial obligation at a future date b : something pledged c : the state or an instance of being obligated or emotionally impelled

If I didn't prove my commitment this week I don't know what else I can do. As all my travel-aster
stories go - just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, it does and where to begin? I think I'll be giving this story installments.

Prologue

I travel for work, a lot. It doesn't seem like that much, until I am in the eye of the storm (ironic foreshadowing) and realize how often I am in the process of going away, execution or coming home. And since I can not travel with out incident, the issue is compounded. Each winter we have meetings through out the country that are focused on a particular theme or subject that are a mandatory requirement. Sometimes, depending on the role I am in or region I am working with or set up of the meetings I can be required to attend 1 or 6 of the meetings. This year I needed to attend 2 out of 5 of the meetings. This weekend in New Jersey and next week in New Hampshire. This is a true story, true story, where one girl stops being reasonable and starts to go batty.

Chapter 1: Before the Storm

The plan was to leave at my usual departure time of o'dark thirty on Thursday to be able to meet in lovely Dirty Jerz at 10 am. On Wednesday due to the pending snowmageddon, flights were canceled out of Boston and while I wasn't flying I did need to make sure I got to the Jerz before the storm hit. Thus O dark thirty, the sequel. The crew who were set to fly decided to take matters into their own hands and jump into vans and rode into the sunset or eye of the storm like cowboys to make sure they would arrive pre-storm and get ready for the big meeting. As they were arriving I was getting up ready to make my voyage.

Ok snow hurricane. Let's do this dance. Thu at 5:04am via Facebook for iPhone

Customer Service Grudge

Once upon a time in a horribly difficult place to find an apartment with a dog, I had a horrible experience with a Real Estate agency. I remember it not fondly and keep the email. Not so much for the first email, but because after my experience I emailed a short email to the manager of the company and have never heard back.

Having worked in customer service, it kind of made me throw up in my mouth. Anyway, here's the story - which ... though annoyed me at the time is also slightly hilarious that there are people out there that have the balls.

Set the stage: an apartment we signed for fell through because our last agent f'd up (another idiot Real Estate Agency - that I can't remember right now) didn't process the paperwork until the afternoon so we missed out on it.

I googled companies all over Boston and each website asked for basic information. Name, rent maximum, amenities requested, dog/cat, parking etc. Instead of spending a lot of time I made templates and mass emailed and/or cut and paste to the websites the information. I offered 1st, last, security paid immediately - as time was clicking and we needed a place to live, stat! Now to be fair - the email itself was quirky and infused some of my 'humor' - but I thought it would make the person laugh and pick up the phone. I was wrong.

If you are moving to Boston, I wouldn't use Metropolitan : Boston Real Estate. They are kind of a group of aHoles. That's not on their "About Us" page unfortunately. It should be.

I was moving from NY and had no where to put my stuff. A response to my email simply read....

From: rentals [mailto:rentals@metropolitanbre.com]
Subject: RE: Apartment in Boston

I do not have anything for you but I do know of a good psychiatrist you may want to talk things over with.

That's it. And yeah, I totally am holding on to this... I guess I should talk to someone about that.

Breathing

When I was knocked up, one of my favorite shows was Grey's Anatomy. I bought the soundtrack during one of my rando evenings with nothing to do but download away.

One of the songs, Keep Breathing by Ingrid Michaelson is probably more so known for some kind of Meredith dramarama. For me it invokes something else, now.



L was still in the hospital. Music calmed me and I needed that. And there were a few songs that I needed to play when we would rock. This song came on and it took new meaning.

All that I know is I'm breathing.
All I can do is keep breathing.
All we can do is keep breathing.

Sometimes it comes up on my iPod and it brings me there.

Rocking in the chair. Telling my baby. Telling me, to breathe.

Snowsapades

Here in the Northeast it's been wild with snow, mostly. In our neck of the woods, not so much. In response to a friend's message out about calling in 'snow' I'm calling BS.

When I looked outside today, I seriously considered calling everyone a liar.

But then I watched the morning news and saw that every school, church, synagogue, University, and most business was closed (darn it - down side of going to daycare attached to a synagogue).

So, while on a usual day of no daycare I’d have to go with Plan B – my mother (aka Nana Lu or Lucy to you) is an avid watcher of the weather channel… and decided to make her weekend trip to spend time with L MUCH earlier this week, and came last night.

The upside? Most every business was closed (still no snow on the ground, FYI) EXCEPT a fabulous new place I found to get my hair cut!

Oh no she di'int?!

C is teaching our kid the wrong phrases and things. He has taught her how to sound like an angry pig verses a regular pig and most recently not to perform on demand.

Me: "L, come here... and sing for me!"
L: "I'm not your puppet."

sunday snaps

1. My kid. The comedian.
2. A weekend with 'nothing' to do and most everything getting done. For the first weekend in a long while we had no plans where we were able to get done all the chores that have been looming.
3. Sleeping at home is a blessing. In the coming weekends I'll be gone Thursday - Sunday for the next two weekends. Gah. Not looking forward to all that, but thankful for the weekend to be home.
4. Home Depot. Plants are purchased and floor are shiner to help fix all the crazy scratches on the floor was purchased. It looks like a new place and with the removal of all the dang sand in the house will surely help things. I could spend hours in the Depot. For sure smiling the whole time.
5. Happiness. Plain and simple.

Play that Funky Music

You know the song when you hear it.. it brings on a memory? A time in your life. A moment. Good, bad, sad, angry - it comes back with the start of the song? I'm trying to keep dibs on our soundtrack. It isn't always easy, but I do what I can.

And like so many other things I intend to do I'm going to try to make sure to mark it here.

Soundtracks. I'm doing this dance.

I thought of it after asking a question to friends we're trying to get together. First week in May, we're getting the family back together - sisters if you will. I asked what song you would add to your college soundtrack.

A song. Many moments come back.
Jumping on couches, screaming from at the top of our lungs. 3103 beating the beat and fist pumping before we even knew what it meant. OH I believe that at 2:25 of the video I would bring the house down.

Pet Cemetery

I've never been good with the animals. It's the truth. I mean I like them fine/ but I don't baby talk, I don't have weird cat voices (yup, I'm talking to you, B), I definitely don't stall in the streets or want to forward around cute baby animal emails. It just doesn't do it for me.

See 1:58 and 2:12.



Maybe that's why most animals hate me. Growing up, I wouldn't say we had a zoo - but we had our fair share of pets. None of their stories really ended well, more like pet cemetery.

We had a parakeet. I forget it's name. It flew into the wall one day - kamikaze style. It was never the same again. Failed suicide, permanent damage as a result. TBI - traumatic brain injury, for sure and not our last pet falling victim to this terrible condition.

We had a hamster. We came home from a long weekend trip and it basically tripped on the 2nd floor of it's hamster palace got it's toes stuck and when we got home he was hanging there. Still as a doornail. Suicide or accidental death, I'm not sure.

I had newts. I didn't realize when you touch or hold them you hurt their skin? The salt on your skin eats away at their skin. Criminally negligent manslaughter.

I had an iguana. I took that bastard everywhere, George was his name. I tried to do the whole take the iguana everywhere... fall and winter on Strong Island, not really a good idea for that. Involuntary manslaughter.

We had a Guinea pig, another return trip from a weekend away or vacation I came home to find he hung himself with his Guinea pig water bottle holder. Suicide.

Cats here and there led normal lives, a few runaways through out my childhood but nothing as crazy as Quasirover. Well, in his first life, he was Quasimoto. He was an outdoor neighborhood cat. On a fateful day someone came running out of our side door, stepped on the cat's tail. The cat jumped, fell down the stairs and hit it's head on the banister. My dad took said bleeding & excreting cat to the vet. Probably hundreds or more dollars later the cat came home and became an indoor cat. Homeboy didn't come out of the situation unscathed. He never was quite the same and was brain damaged. He thought he was a dog, thus the new name. Seriously - thought he was a dog, when we wasn't zoning out due to TMI. True story. One day he went outside, likely got lost due to memory lost and hopefully found a nice home. I just hope he didn't run out of lives, as the fall took more than 1 from his 9 lives tally.

In high school, I had a dog named Scout. He kicked ass. He jumped high, came with me everywhere. No skin issues or temperature controls to worry about. He was a pomeranian and while I'm not a cat/lap dog kind of girl, he looked more like a fox than anything. I didn't he's hair and puff him out. I loved that bastard. He would roam the neighborhood sometimes and everyone loved him. One weirdo down the street loved him a bit too much. Sometimes he would call my mom and ask if Scout to sleep over. It was weird. We'd say no of course, but every once in awhile he would escape the weirdo's grip dressed up. Clothes for pets freak me out. I moved to college and then after, and no dogs allowed. A few months before he could move in with me I got a phone call. Apparently he made a run for it, not to be found. Runaway. It's probably for the best, who knows how he would have faired.

I lived with a Beagle named Bailey, and really too many stories to tell about that crazy bastard. Love her as I may. I will say when we lived in Alston you had to place a pair of sneakers next to your bed. If you heard the cry of Bailey - meaning someone left the damn door open and home girl made a run for it - you had to go and run after her. That sucked, especially since I don't run unless I am getting chased. Nothing bad happened to her... with the exception of her overdose on birth control pills (story for another time)- until she was later killed by a drive by. God rest her soul.

After Scout ran, for some reason I needed to fill the void. My roommate & I went to the local shelter and for some godforsaken reason they gave us cats. 2 cats - a mom and daughter. They were already named, Susan & something else. Since the something else was the daughter and still a kitten I renamed her Lola. Susan and Lola. The thing is, I hate cats now and I don't know how long I liked them either. After moving out I took the cats, and moved in with a boyfriend and thanks be to Jesus the major thing that came out of that relationship was a good home for those two orphans. Word on the street they are still alive and kicking.

Finally, there is Abelle. I love her as much as I can when she isn't underfoot and playing chicken with the vacuum. L loves her so and even though I curse her from time to time she's a good dog and seems to stay out of trouble. I'd say she is coming on the longest tenure with me, so hopefully we're out of the woods and the curse has been lifted.

Seen & Heard

L: "Daddy?"
Me: "Where is daddy??" (looking for the answer, workin')
L: "Drinkin"
Teacher: (dirty looks)

wordless wednesday

SFO : A Picture Book (with words)

wordless wednesday

Smoking in Aruba

In my pursuit to blog not only to write but be read, I've been looking into my Google Analytics. I'm fairly sure I should know the ins and out of it - but from what I can tell it's more of a curiosity thing? It certainly brings with it interesting information. For example, this site has been hit more than a few times when someone searches. "Smoking in Aruba" - HA. Runners up?

looking for smoking momma phone numbers and growing up in aruba.

I guess while it was one of the reasons I hated that place, it's one of the reasons I have you. Stranger danger who has googled smoking in Aruba. Listen Stranger Danger, do me and mine a favor. Listen, I'm all about smokin' em if you got 'em - but in the pool? While people are eating? All over everywhere? Is that really necessary? Come on, Stranger Danger - get some prospective. Gah. I'm back to hating Aruba all over again - and I was just thinking of it in fondness.

OH well. Next time.

Sand Pail & Shovel Sub: Needed

City living had it's challenges - as does (semi)country living. The first snow, this year, was an interesting one. Of course C was traveling. Of course. And of course daycare was canceled - but I had a busy day of work. That's how I roll.

I found myself in a bit of a predicament. Here I was with so where to bring my child and no way to get out of the house to get her somewhere.

Luckily, we have a plan B with the bombshells. Check, one problem solved. Now for problem 2... how to physically get OUT of the house.

Since the only shovel we had at the time was the long time companion to L's sand pail I went with another option. There I was - with child bundled up so tight she couldn't walk, sweeping my way out of the driveway. It all worked out we got there ok and luckily the rain came to melt away the snow but that morning I was once again reminded how lucky I am to have C to help out in cases like this. Turns out we HAD a shovel - that I didn't know about. He would have known and would not have resorted to sweep his way out of the driveway.

Oh well. There are several ways to skin a cat - mine is just ass backwards.