Chaos Attraction

Hopeless Chest

2004-10-17, 9:49 p.m.

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Day 2 of Apartment Issues.

Since among a great many other things, my apartment is missing a shower rack (and towel racks, for that matter), we hit Target today and picked up a rack and curtain and whatnot. Then waited around for my mom to get into town with my bedding. Then met up at Ace Hardware to order new bookshelves. Jess said she could be at my apartment for delivery and installation of shelves (since Julian's school is about three blocks from my place), and I was explaining to the saleslady that "oh, yeah, she's going to wait for it because I have to train people at work."
"How old are you?"
I told her, and she was all, "I HATE YOU!"
While we were there, Mom stumbled across a toilet brush holder shaped like a bunny rabbit. I made the comment that it looked like the bunny items Mom had gotten me for my hope chest. For those who don't know, a hope chest is for when you get married. Or in our family context, Mom found a cute bunny cookie jar and matching teapot at some point when I was a teenager but years away from moving out, and bought them for me claiming they were for my "hope chest." Jess was all, "You should use these things already!"

Anyway...went back to the apartment with Mom and put up the shower stuff and set up the bed and bedding. Jess was quite flabbergasted that my mom was insisting on having hospital corners on the bed. I was all, "I told you she was nitpicky. I think she thinks Grandmummy is looking down on her and thinking she's a bad person for not doing a perfect bed." Jess was all, "No wonder you don't make yours."

Then Jess and co. had an appointment with a girl about buying a camera, so we were going to meet up at a restaurant later. At this point, Mom started to fry my brains with all of her PANIC and nagging. She was complaining that nobody sweeps up the hallways and how much damage leaves were going to do to my apartment. She wanted to see the manager for a screwdriver and broom- luckily she didn't go off on him about much. I did talk to him and he said there will be a lawsuit and I'll get a letter from him tomorrow about it, and that if I can get them a list of items to put into the lawsuit by Friday, that would be good. And to make a list of all of the things that need to be fixed around the apartment still.

The list has oh, about 25 items. Argh.

And she was going off about how I'm not taking care of anything, and how bad I am for not being 100% ready to live in the apartment yet and how I just don't care about moving in if I haven't gone through all of the boxes yet (I have about three times more boxes than I do furniture at the moment), and I'm mooching off Jess and I just want to be taken care of and not have to cook and blah blah blah...

Argh.

Well, excuse me if I think it's important to have the following things set up in the apartment before I live in it:
(a) a bed (check!)
(b) toilet paper and a shower that can be showered in without disaster (check!)
(c) know where the hell my dishes are and have the kitchen set up so I can freaking eat something and manage food on my own (so far, no check)
Not to mention, albeit these are not as much of a priority and (c) is more important there, but
(d) have all the repairs done in the place before I start packing away stuff. The closets have to be fixed, my screen door has some issues, there's linoleum issues, lock issues, cabinet issues... gah.
Oh yeah, and (e) furniture. Currently I have 1 papasan chair, a TV stand, and a microwave stand, and that's it. At some point, a Salvation Army run must be made.
So pardon me if I'm not all moved in the way I was in the dorms today!

After forever and a night, I left a note for Heather saying well, obviously I'm NOT getting to be here when she is tonight, sorry, and we went to eat.

We went to Pasta? again, and damn, there were a shitload of cute boys at Pasta? They hire many foxy Italian waiters, plus there was a cute patron or two. And here's me: flat hair, zits on my face (gee, I wonder why this weekend), wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants-ish jacket, looking like I'm 14 years old and frazzled as all hell, with my mommy and daddy and mommy griping at me. (Then again, even if I'd been tarted up to the tens, having Mommy and Daddy there yelling at me would have given me the same amount of sexual attractiveness as I had tonight already.)

As Mom dropped me off at Jess's, I was thinking to myself as I walked up the path, "Whichever one of them makes the first comment about me immediately heading for the liquor the second I get home should get some money." Instead, Mike met me at the kitchen door with an already-opened wine cooler in hand. Jess had slipped it to him with instructions to hide it if Mom was still there.

And now, I am drinking and Jess and I are laughing hysterically and thinking up items to go in a "hopeless chest." Which definitely has to go in NaNoWriMo this year.

(a) a big bottle of liquor (no glass to pour it in)
(b) crossword puzzles
(c) old maid decks
(d) a Crazy Cat Lady action figure.
(e) lots of tissues
(f) granny panties, 2 sizes bigger
(g) cat flea collars
(h) a massive supply of cat food
(i) housecoat and fuzzy bunny slippers and curlers
(j) cheap-ass cigarettes
(i) subscription to Weekly World News
(j) sneakers for mall walking
(k) coupons for the early bird special, also takeout menus
(l) fake ID that says you're 55 for the senior discount
(m) big book on solitaire rules and deck of cards
(n) 2 pound bag of Oreos
(o) subscription to Harlequin books
(p) giant cold cream tin


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