It's important to be warm

Hi, Mortgage Headache, so good to see you! Meet my friends Ibuprofen and Whiskey. Ibuprofen and I have known each other for longer than I can remember, and Whiskey and I, well, we got to know each other real well back in the Hallmark days. Some times, eh? Yeah, well, me and Mortgage Headache haven’t known each other long, but it seems like FOREVER since we’ve been talking. It’s been rough, but we’ll get through it, won’t we?

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Wonderful people are leaving town. The world is awfully small though, and I don’t feel the weight of good-byes too badly. I know they’ll be on iChat, and we’ll be visiting the fine cities they’ll live in, but it’s sad to see them go. The End of an Era n’at. We already sent off Chad, then last night, Ben. Both times we totally scored. Lots of food, random stuff, and a couch, which Saggar has already changed the color of with her furry self.

Speaking of the duck, she’s proven again how she is my cat. She wouldn’t eat the leftover real-meat hotdog from the BBQ. In fact, she pulled it out of her food dish, left it on the floor, then complained to us about her food bowl being empty. She does eat nibbles of my tofu dogs when proffered.

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We saw Tony Kushner on Charlie Rose last night (I’ll link once their archive updates.). Tony was brilliant about absolutely everything he talked about. I now have to read all the interviews he’s done, as well as more of his plays. Probably ought to reread the Angels anyway. Too bad Charlie has become such an Interrupting Cow (Moo).

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If I was in Nashville, I’d be at this conference.

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Several nights ago, Ian and I were walking down Liberty Avenue to get a DVD and a gelato. Ian’s parents called as we were walking, and he struck up the usual long and lovely conversation with them. A middle-aged black guy hollered to us from the street as he was crossing. “Man, you talkin’ on the phone when your woman is so fine? Damn!”

Dude totally made my week.

Filed by joy at 4:19 pm under life
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As if I wasn’t anxious enough to move, the continuing SAAAAga of the people in the upstairs duplex just keeps being a soap opera. Now we’ve ventured into an episode of Law & Order.

Did they not get the memo about the area generally described as ME being a Drama-Free-Zone? I should’ve made a sign.

Earlier this week, the nice gayboy upstairs came out to his car (in the garage, mind you) and found the word FAG scratched deeply into the hood. This was following a charming evening of fun for the escort girl and her elephant friends who think it’s fine times to JUMP around at 4am on a Wed/Thurs in the room above our bedroom.

Just this fine summer evening, a Constable and nice fellow in a “Fugitive Recovery” t-shirt came to the door, inquiring after the girl upstairs. I told them I know she’s home since not ten minutes previously, I had complained to her and her natty boy smoking on my rooftop that they should control the PBR cans from falling into my garden. She was playin’ possum, and I guess they didn’t have a warrant to open the door. Sad. They seem to have gone away, but I’m hoping against hope that they’re out there, waiting for her to resurface, like the pond scum she is, so they can take her and all her issues off to be dramatic elsewhere.

Stay tuned…

Filed by joy at 7:44 pm under life
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SaggarCat complained quite a bit on the ride out to the groomer. We left her there to go have some fun at Home Depot. (Oh, I’m so excited about flooring, I have not the words.)

We came back an hour later to a very same-looking cat: Fluffy and slightly low-hung, yellow eyes just a bit more glowering that usual. The groomer couldn’t get past trimming her claws. Not that I’m entirely surprised. Saggar doesn’t fancy people touching her feet, never has. They recommended a better comb than we currently own, and if we want to do this dance again, to consider tranquilizers from the vet. They were terribly sweet about the whole thing, didn’t charge a cent for their trouble, so I tipped them on the comb purchase.

She was very calm, rather smug even, on the ride home. Quietly, she took herself into the back seat and curled up for the whole ride. Her triumph was short-lived though. Since I am alpha-cat around here, I attacked her with the new comb and LO! it is a fine thing. Fun too! She sings, I comb, the trash is filled with all the Saggar-ghosts, all is well in the world.

Filed by joy at 3:45 pm under random
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Type is beautiful in both two and three dimensions. Boy would I love some of these full stops to have around.

Filed by joy at 10:28 am under visuals
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Our counter bid was accepted. We are well on our way to homeownership. Now I need to schedule the inspection and sort out the mortgage deals. Zoom zoom.

Pool party, tentatively scheduled for August. Who’s in?

Filed by joy at 1:17 am under life
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As the website says, a fictional election deserves fictional candidates.

Filed by joy at 7:46 pm under politics
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Our agent is writing up our offer on the Mintwood house as I type. EEEeeeeeeeeeeee!!! I’m so excited that my tummy actually hurts.

Mom, Ian, our agent and I all traipsed over to Mintwood, aka The House of Pink, this morning. Mom and Ian explored in detail all the rooms, tucking behind into closets, lifting up dropped ceiling to check the area above, etc. I kibitzed with the current owner and made friendly noises. There was bonding. I love the place and, while there are a few things to be done to it, everything is aesthetic, so it’s just fun fun fun work.

Now we go off to the next half of the day and get Ian graduated. Zoom zoom.

Filed by joy at 1:55 pm under life
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On my way to the gallery today, I saw a father and son walking in the sunshine. Dad was around 35, son must’ve been around 5, and they wore the exact same smirk on their snerks. Happily, it was viral. A wide smirk quickly appeared on my own snerk.

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I had a dream last night that Saggar was talking to me in rather a deep male voice. She wasn’t saying anything particularly memorable, and I recall my reaction to her was vague surprise that she’d be commenting to me on something rather ordinary. I replied to her, “Oh, hmm, so that’s how it is, eh?” or along those lines. Mundaneness is cool and all, but a slightly profound thought once in awhile would remind me of why I am paying all these student loans.

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Then there is the househunt.

Here are the major contenders of the moment: Mintwood and 46th. I’m pretty hot on Mintwood and am open to comments. Ian’s not at all keen on the pool, but he has only seen these pics, hasn’t visited in person yet. I, of course, am far more excited about a pool, but I’d want to build a real fence for a bit of privacy. The view (which is blown-out completely on the pic) is really pretty good. You can even see a typical Pgh bridge over the Allegheny in the distance. We look at a for-sale-by-owner tonight.

Mom’s been having long chats with St. Anthony for this whole process. Every little bit helps.
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Yesterday I was listening to a Democracy Air program on WRCT. Molly Ivins was rocking my world after Naomi Klein dissected it. Both were brilliant, but after Naomi’s cutting insight, Texan humor was well needed. Molly offered up several quotables, not the least of which was describing Arnold Schwarzenegger as a “condom stuffed with walnuts”. She told fantastic and hilarious stories of the hard task of being a liberal in Texas. Most vital was Molly’s commitment that “It should be fun to try to make it a better world.”

Yes, these times are trying at best, terrifying more often than any of us can really digest, but we have to remember to have as much fun as we can. Molly told the story of a dying activist, who, on his deathbed, instructed his friend to relate to the young people, the next generation of torch-bearers, “Tell them how much FUN it was, tell them that.”

I want to look back, from whatever deathbed on which I find myself, and no matter the pain, have my thoughts consumed with telling those around me how much fun it all was.

Filed by joy at 3:04 pm under life
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We were reviewing the Abstract for Ian’s essay and I’m giving out all sorts of shit about his sentences. It’s my way, after all.

I had to fix it with some em dashes. Handy little buggers. I explained the fixing to the Ian, and he proceeded to do a little dance, singing “Jazz hands, em dash. Jazz hands, em dash.” As if that wasn’t amusing enough, he proceeded to inform me that “‘Jazz hands, em dash’ would be a great name for a Rap Band.” I thought I’d let him know that “Rap” doesn’t really go with “Band”, as it were. He decided to go to the other side of the room and be old.

Filed by joy at 1:27 am under random
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It’s an absolutely gorgeous day outside. Truly stellar. But I’m inside, contemplating if I’m up to biking all the way to up to Squirrel Hill. Goodness knows I need the exercise, but that hill…ouch.

There is a quiet war going on, a silent killer (as opposed in all ways to W’s War). No one is dying in this little quiet battleground of my yard, just a loss of heart. The escort chick upstairs has taken to sunning herself on my roof. She also brings out her boom box. As I was taking out the trash, she was enjoying some sort of easy listening Musak. I mean, if it was Enya I could deal, but I don’t know what elevator she thinks this is. I feel so Buffy Episode 58. Not that I’ve heard any Celine Dion…YET.

So, can I make it up the hill on my bike? On willpower and good habit-forming wishes? Nah. On spite alone? Perhaps.

Filed by joy at 2:01 pm under life
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