A Girl...

I've Got the Three-Day-Weekend-Stuck-at-Work-and-All-Alone Blues

It's turned out to be a "why me?" sort of weekend. I feel all restless and rained upon, even though things in general are looking better than they have for a few weeks now and it's sunny and genuinely warm here in the land of perpetual 72 degrees, don't forget your jacket for when the sun goes down. Here I am again pining for the work week to begin just so I'm not stuck alone with my mopey self. Bah.

In addition to stressing out about leaving for Italy in one week(!) and not having a dress or shoes or a soft little sweater or a bag or little shampoo bottles or addresses to send postcards to or transportation to the airport, I've dealt with a deluge of inconveniences, big and small, that, when added to the general "ack!" of the trip, make me just want to stay in bed. Woe.

First, the inverter board that makes my laptop's LCD screen work properly crapped out, so I've been without visible Internet all weekend (it's there, I just can't see it) and I have to wait until Wednesday to get it fixed. (Problem aside, three cheers to Dell customer service reps who were uber helpful and friendly and prompt, even if their follow-up procedure (two emails and two phone calls in two days) is amounting to harrassment.)

Then, my plan to add a new toy to my menagerie of electronic goodies was foiled when the shop I went to didn't have what I wanted. For weeks I've been reading up on and researching and consulting with dear old Dad about and venturing to various stores to fondle a brand new digital SLR camera. I'd read volumes of reviews and technical features, talked for hours and hours to my camera savvy daddy, and internalized all the specs and costs and possible scams related to the camera body, lenses, filters, memory cards, and spent a whole week building up the mental fortitude to haggle over the price, a process that I find not only difficult and uncomfortable but theoretically morally reprehensible (just tell me what you can sell it to me for and I'll say okay; let's skip the mind games, please). So off I went to the camera store ready to fork over the dough and they didn't have the lens I wanted and they were selling everything for the ridiculous street price (set especially for suckers), and although I had a lovely chat with Victoria the salesgirl, I left emptyhanded but with a head full of "oh crap, I'm leaving the country in ten days and I need to buy a camera (and a dress and shoes and a soft little sweater...)."

My plan then was to walk home and hop in the car for a trip to another camera store, but when I approached my driveway, I found that a car not belonging to anyone who lives in my house was completely blocking me in. That did it. Time to go back to bed, even though it's only 4 p.m.

I couldn't stay in bed long, however, because there was work to be done. See, in addition to worrying about vacation stuff, I have spent most of this weekend's waking hours proofreading stuff for work because I'm waaay behind on things that need to be completed, oh, sometime last week. I hate this. Not only do I hate being trapped in the house with a lap-obsessed furface, but it's doubly hard when it's sunny outside, and triply hard when it's a three-day holiday weekend, and quadruply hard when your friends are out having fun without you. Sunday afternoon Teddy called to say he wanted to hang out that night--following the baseball game he was attending with Ethan and his girlfriend. Now, while that situation isn't as bad as it could be, it does remain somewhat tumultuous and touchy, and I'd rather not know the specifics, even though I say I do and pry poor Teddy for information (which he is quite willing to give because he thinks the whole thing is rather eye-rolly and ridiculous and doomed). Anyway, it gave me no small amount of pleasure that as soon as the game was over he informed the twosome that he was leaving immediately to go to a movie and dinner with me, and they were all sad and stuff, so ha. This says as much for me as it does for Ethan's girlfriend, which is really unfortunate, but also kind of funny.

That movie and dinner and ice cream and doorstep chat was much needed and much appreciated, and it will be sad not to have Teddy around for a month. Tonight I take him to the airport, from whence he'll fly across this great land to teach at a summer program in North Carolina until the first week of August. August, the magic month. August, when everything will change. August, when everything will be better. At least that's what he promises.

So that's my craptastic weekend. And guess where I am right now? At work. Ick. Pro: I can see you, Internet. Con: I have two manuscripts stacked four inches high that need to delt with, oh, sometime last month. Independence day, my ass.

One year ago, I was four days into living by myself for the first time in my life. One year ago, it was a hugely big deal for me to embark upon a solo drive to San Francisco. One year ago my friend Kevin burned me three Nick Drake CDs and ignited a love affair to last a lifetime, even if one half of the affair died before I was born. One year ago my future was a thrown football--in the air, hoping to be catched, trying to anticipate which way it would bounce if it hit the ground. Some things never change. Some things do. Better bounce than splat, I guess.