there's a mouse about the house; or, you're a real dude's dude

I woke up in the middle of the night on Wednesday to the squeaking of a terrified mouse that was cornered by Linus "Killer" and Lucy "The Sundance Kid" McFurry-VonMeowerton behind the tv in my room. I really hate that this always seems to happen in the middle of the night, because while I would generally be content to fall asleep and deal with a mouse corpse in the morning, I am afraid that I will in fact wake up to my cats' Thanksgiving feast on my pillow. Several restless hours later I did wake up to clean up the dead mouse in the living room. Fortunately the carnage is limited because once the mouse is dead it no longer holds their interest.

In the morning I mentioned to Frank that the cats had killed a mouse and we talked about it for awhile. Not long after that conversation, Lucy is nosing around in the corner of the living room and sure enough brings a little still alive mouse and drops it at Frank's feet.
Turns out Frank is terrified of mice. And this was a little guy, probably about the same size as the mousie pictured. Frank was crawling up the back of the couch away from this tiny mouserson. I got a dustpan and the little guy just marched up onto it and I set the dustpan on the coffee table.
"Don't leave it there!!" Frank squealed as he went to get the garbage can, into which I dumped the still live mouse. I actually felt really bad about this, but I can't be the one to kill it directly. I learned that what it takes for Frank to actually take out the garbage is a live rodent inside of it. Note to self.
So then today Frank asks me if I have some measuring tape. He explains that he is measuring newspaper. "Oh, are you framing a sports win?" I joked. He looked at me blankly. "Yes. The Giants won the Superbowl" Obviously.
"It's funny," I said, "that I don't really know you very well, but that I guessed that"
"Oh...yeah" Frank said dismissively, "Typical dude stuff."

Yeah, Frank, until you get a baby mouse in front of you, you're a real dude's dude.

this apartment is starving for an argument

I am pretty much a misanthrope in general, but recently I just want to walk down the street swinging my arms and kicking my legs and god help anyone who gets in my way.

Stoner and Frank had broken windows in their rooms and it has been this whole process trying to get them fixed. And for whatever reason, window guys were scheduled to come on Saturday...at a time when both of them would be working. They asked me if I would be around, and I said I might be but I didn't want to commit to it in case I wouldn't be. So on Saturday as I was getting ready to go run some errands, the window guys came. So because I am a nice person I did not say "Oh, actually, this isn't my problem and I want to go to the fabric store" I stayed for two hours while they fixed the windows.

So when Frank and Hannah come home, obviously they see that their windows are fixed....obviously they weren't there for the window guys...must've been Caitlin. No "Thank you". Nothing. No acknowledgement whatsoever. I am so over it. Like, I know they are inconsiderate, but I guess I keep hoping that because I am the best person ever that maybe it will rub off, but no.

Frank's parents sent him a thanksgiving card. I am going to get their address from the envelope and write a letter asking why they did not teach him any manners. I haven't really seen stoner since her window was fixed, so I am not as rageful at her. But I have a feeling that my loathing might be palpable and I haven't spoken to Frank in days even though our paths cross often.

Then yesterday at the gym it was really crowded and I was waiting for a treadmill. And there is a 30 minute limit on machines when people are waiting. There were a ton of people waiting and a ton of people who were way over the time limit. So after getting no help from the staff at enforcing the rule I tapped one woman on the shoulder who had been on for 55 minutes. She didn't get off. So then another girl who had been on for about 40 minutes saw me do that. Meanwhile, her treadmill is directly in front of the sign saying there is a time limit. So I look pointedly at her and at the sign. Nothing. So then a dude next to her got off and I got on his machine.
So whatever, you wanna be an asshole and hog the machine. Fine. Next time you want a machine someone else will be hogging it because you're an asshole.

But, when this bitch saw that she wasn't going to have to give up her machine, she smirked at me!! That just put me over the edge. I said, "Bitch, you think rules don't apply to you?!!?" But she just kept smirking. Oh man.

Well, I didn't want her to know that I am tubby and can't really run very fast or for very long. So I put the speed way up and was putting all of my anger into this workout. And the whole time I am pushing through by weighing the pros and cons of pulling the emergency stop cord which is so tantalizingly hanging in easy reach. I was in full on cartoon devil and angel on the shoulder mode.
Devil:"Well, I could always join another gym when I get banned because of this"
Angel: "But what if things get out of hand"
Angel "New York Sports Club is $30 more a month, that'll add up"
Devil: "but maybe it's a nicer gym...and you get a discount from your job.....and it's right next door to work"
Angel: "But you would never go on a weekend. What if she punches you and you are a weakling?"
Devil: "What if you have all of these untapped beat-down powers?"

Ok, so my angel conscience mostly cares about paying more for the gym and looking stupid, but it won out in the end. And to be honest, I'm kind of bummed. There are a million gyms in the city, but when am I ever going to get another chance to topple some smug bitch?

squeaky clean like a rubber ducky

I did an intake today with a girl who is in a program at her high school for people with "school phobia". Did you know that such programs exist? I did not. Anyway, I asked her to tell me about the other kids in her class. I asked under the pretense that I was interested in if she has any peers she is able to socialize with. But really it was just my own morbid curiosity about what kind of kid is in a school phobia class. Wolf shirt kids, right? But this girl isn't like that, she's cool in a self-destructive Rayanne Graff kind of way, but I imagined she is an anomaly. She said there is a boy who carries a lunch box, but that was the only really good piece. I hope it has a superhero on it. Then we talked about how they were kids who have general social problems and try too hard. But I think my error was in framing the question as having to do with socialization, when really I just wanted to know about freaks.

I am possibly the most self-serving social worker ever.

FYI I carried a sailor moon lunch box in high school. And before you ask, yes it did have an included thermos.

Roommate Live Blog

So when I first moved in here my roommate liaison was Frank and he was the one I talked to the most. And then I learned that he is a huge huge slob (with the exception of coaster, natch). And I thought maybe he and I would be friendly. But then I felt like every time I talked he was completely tuned out and then he would talk about himself and zone out while I was talking. So I got kind of tired of it and quit really interacting with him, and at this point I think I am actually more social with Asperger's.
Well, Frank has what appears to be a date over. Seriously I am sitting across the kitchen table from her writing about her. I am such an asshole. But, really, he shows pretty much the same disinterest in her as he shows in conversations with me.
This is actually really hilarious. I want to live blog all of his dates. Obviously he is interested because he just asked her to a movie on Sunday.
But then she was like, oh well I might have to go to this open house on Sunday.
So then he's like...um...oh yeah, that's cool...I was just...you know...asking...
haha. I love observing awkwardness so much.

Anyway, now I feel bad that I wrote Frank off and I feel like there is all this tension every time we are in the same room because we don't interact at all. And also I am usually seething with bitterness that Lucy loves him more than she loves me. Obviously that's just how he is all the time. Maybe he really wanted to be friends at first and then I wrote him off because he has poor social skills and I thought he didn't want to talk.
He is really a boring person. He probably falls on the autism spectrum too. He speaks in a serious monotone. I should make him talk to me when I have insomnia.

Man I wish I had a webcam for this date. Haha...it's kind of painful.
They're sitting across the room from each other.
I can't tell how she feels about him since she pretty much denied his sunday movie invite.

I should really live blog, like minute by minute. There's just silence right now.

Still silence.

A slight chuckle from Frank because he has ESPN on because he is apparently a jerk. Who keeps ESPN on during their date?

Now the girl just nodded at nothing. She talks really fast but I don't know if it's because that's how she always is or she is just so nervous in Frank's awesome presence. Or maybe she feels like she's being observed, which she is.

Ok, enough of my creepiness for now.

Silence.

America and Caitlin love cultural diversity

This post is basically just a series of my thoughts from the last 12 hours. I swear it's all connected.

I got the cats this litter that I don't like recently. It seriously sucks...doesn't clump, really emphasizes the ammonia odor quality of feline urine...no good. I like arm and hammer super scoop. So today I went to go get some arm and hammer super scoop. I went to the Pioneer, which is remodeling and obnoxious to go into. No super scoop. C-Town. No super scoop. The weird store next to C-Town that smells weird. No super scoop. The bodega on the corner. No super scoop. Family Dollar. No super scoop. So as I was wandering around to every store within two blocks of my apartment, I was thinking, goddammit this is what I hate about New York. I can't get my fucking cat litter. In other normal cities where they have huge grocery stores within 5 minutes of anywhere, I would be able to get all the different varieties of super scoop - multi-cat AND odor control. I ended up getting Cat's Pride...which is ok, but it's no super scoop.

Anyway, then I was leaving the gym this evening and I said goodnight to the security guard because I am polite and I was putting on my sweatshirt and he motioned me over. He was pointing at the tattoo on my ankle, which I got my senior year in college, of an Om. Pictured above. Mine is red. It's kind of awesome. I am actually always a little wary when an Indian or Hindu person notices my tattoo because I feel like I can't speak articulately about why I have it. It's really more representative of my made up snake and salamander religion, which I also can't speak very articulately about....but, like, I'm not Christian and I would never have a tattoo of a cross. Anyways, the security guard had an om tattooed on his arm. Fortunately, he didn't call me out on being a Hindu fraud and instead talked about how a lot of white people are into Hinduism and he thinks it's just great. Here are some other things I learned about him:
He is from Surinam by way of Holland
Holland is nice
Surinam is nice. There aren't a lot of people.
There aren't a lot of people from Surinam in New York.
He came here in 2002.
His daughter lives in Holland.
Holland takes care of its people better than America.
English is hard to learn.
His nephew may or may not speak good english.

Then I was thinking how much I love new york and the different kinds of people. Sometimes. Sometimes I miss homogeneity. So THEN I was all filled with naive pride for America and opportunities and black men as president. And then I was remembering election night and how it was kind of awesome to be in my neighborhood.
Living in a poor black neighborhood, across the street from the projects, basically guarantees an Obama landslide on my block. And when they called it, the streets were filled with people cheering, honking their horns, shouting, white people hugging black people and general elation. That shit didn't happen in eugene, I imagine....at least not where either my parents or my sister live.
The election also brought me and asperger's together because we watched the returns. I offered her some ice cream. She offered me some beer. And I was reminded of another time when I crossed cultural boundaries. When I worked at the nursing home in Harlem and everyone hated me because I was white, especially this girl I had to share the computer/janitor's closet with. But I noticed that she always read People. And then Anna Nicole Smith died. So I asked her if she had heard anything about why she died. And she offered me a twizzler.
Anna Nicole Smith and Barack Obama aren't so far apart as you might think. They both have united a country. Or, at least me with people who don't especially like me.
Yesterday Asperger's and I watched a documentary about these autistic savant twins. Which 1. was awesome. and 2. was very meta.

Also, I was reading a thing about racist jokes that people had heard since the election, and one of them was that the white house was going to replace the rose garden with a watermelon patch. And my first thought was that they were going to do that for purely gardening purposes. Because I just listened to this episode of Fresh Air with the guy who wrote In Defense of Food, and he wrote an open letter to McCain and Obama encouraging whoever would be in the white house next to replace the lawn with like a vegetable garden. Anyway. I am kind of pleased that that was my first assumption.

my mom is a comic goldmine and also a pothead

Caitlin:oh sarah palin is like you...smoked pot and didn't like it

!

Mom: did i say i didn't like it?

Caitlin: every time you've ever talked about it

Mom: lol

you forgot born in a hospital in idaho!

Caitlin: apparently you were not being truthful

oh yeah...you guys are pretty much soul mates

Mom: except for one or 2 things

Caitlin: haha

including, apparently, your enjoyment of marijuana

Mom: notice i am not asking you

Caitlin: don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to!

Mom: really

did you ask your dad?

Caitlin: yeah once, he said no

he was also lying

Mom: i didn't lie