And no, that title is not indicative of a disastrous, drunken, pot-filled New Year's party. It's just what the Silver Fox always says instead of "Happy New Year's." My New Year's Day consisted of sleeping late and then having hamburgers and potato salad at the Silver Fox's. Naturally, I spilled hamburger and potato salad, plus I slopped punch down the sides of the glasses when I was serving it. Even more naturally, I just licked it up.
I was playing Scrabble (again) at the Silver Fox's today, and he told me of how he used to have a nicer Scrabble board on its own rotating board, but he lost it in the divorce. On my way home, I decided to stop at a Toys R Us to see if they carried those Scrabble boards, and if so, how expensive they were. The Toys R Us near my house had moved several miles south, and I hadn't been to the new location, and finding it was a pain in the ass. I drove south on 183 till I reached the approximate street number, made a U-turn, headed back, and saw the sign for the store. I exited, entered the shopping center, turned left, and failed to locate the store. I returned to the highway, exited again, took the wrong exit, made another U-turn, and tried again. I wound up making two more passes before I eventually located the store. Once inside, I walked directly past the board games and wound up in the nursery and baby registry section. Finally, I found the Scrabble stuff, but it was all too expensive, and I didn't like the garish colors. I decided to forget about it and just get something off eBay or something.
January 3—The Nosebleed Section
I've had a cold, and my nose has been terribly stopped up this last week or so. I woke up this morning with yet another runny nose, touched my hand to my nose, and my finger came away bloody. So my first thought of the day was 'Shit! That's blood!' as I charged into the bathroom for tissue. After the bleeding stopped, I dozed off for a while longer, dreaming mercifully not of nosebleeds but rather of my first kiss with the Silver Fox. When I woke up again, I saw the flowers he'd given me on my nightstand. Aww.
I got up and almost immediately began cleaning. I haven't spent much time at home lately, and the place really needed vacuuming. I did that last night (after breaking the vacuum), so this morning, I tidied the kitchen and my room. I went through my tool bag to sift out stuff for Goodwill, a pile which grew gradually larger as I broke a couple of items. Oh well.
January 9—Not as safe as you'd think.
I spent the day working a load in for a stand up comedian. I showed up early, got security to let me into the building, and then realized I was trapped backstage because the door to the corridor to the rest of the building was locked, and the security guard who'd let me in was gone by then. I sat impatiently for half an hour, waiting for everyone else to show up. Work began with me spilling tea on the floor. Whatever. I later tangled myself in a drop, taped myself to the floor, and—best of all—dropped a safety cable off the catwalk. The boss telling us to sign out was a mutual relief, I'm sure. However, I left the food I'd brought with me in the fridge in the break room and will have to retrieve it tomorrow.
January 10—It was like that bit in Men in Black, only less funny.
I worked backstage tonight, at the same show I helped load in yesterday. My sole responsibility was telling the guy to get onstage. I did so and then went and sat in the hall backstage until the show came down. I dragged a chair out to the table by the door leading to the stage, that way I'd be nearby in case anything came up. Naturally, I dragged said chair in place with a hideous scraping shriek just as the show was starting. I'd like to think the hanging drapes muffled the noise, but since said drapes were not fully drawn, I rather doubt it.
I worked a load in this morning for an outdoor show. It was cold and windy, and we spent a lot of time working in the dirt, meaning my nice coat got filthy. As irksome as that was, it was the least of my worries. The show itself was quite ugly: It was a series of inflatable structures zipped together, which the road crew had the gall to refer to as a "sculpture." Whatever. It was a bouncy castle that didn't bounce. It was made of foul-smelling vinyl and resembled a space caterpillar when it was all done. The fire marshal was quite perturbed about the perceived lack of exits, although as I pointed out, the plastic was half a millimeter thick and I could make an exit quite easily if I wanted to. Anyway, the point of the non-bouncy bouncy castle was that natural lighting illuminates the interior and makes supposedly pretty patterns, but I don't know HOW in GOD'S name you're supposed to focus on that what with the stench of vinyl, the cramped quarters, and the awful "ambient music" that grated on my last nerve and made me want to unload on the whole thing with a shotgun, or at least sneak back later with my knife and slash it all to shreds. (Disclaimer: I didn't do it.)
Of course, I was my usual self. I tripped on the curb when we set up barricade, ripped my pants (only in the knee, mercifully), and spilled tea all over the break room table. The day dragged on endlessly, and when it finally ended, I picked up the Silver Fox from work. He took me to dinner, through which I moped, though at least the lime sherbet perked me up a bit. It was still a terrible night, and I was mightily relieved to pass out.
January 14—Maybe it's just as well that the Silver Fox takes me out to eat all the time.
The Silver Fox and I visited several ethnic grocery stores today. We started with falafel and shami wraps and both dribbled juice everywhere. We pigged out on pastries, spilling crumbs everywhere, and I dribbled tea all over the console in my car. I later destroyed a neat stack of produce in an Asian supermarket and rounded off the day nicely by toppling a pile of bagged mustard seeds in the Indian shop. I dropped off the Silver Fox and went home to make my vindaloo, which, surprisingly, did not end in tears. It was delicious, although since the paste was made for an American market, it wasn't quite spicy enough. Still. The poppadoms were perfect, crispy and light, and I later made some kulfi. The kulfi got off to a rocky start: I heated the milk, left it unattended, and it boiled over and put the flame out on the stove. I smelled the natural gas, nearly blew up the kitchen, and then began again, this time with better results. I stayed up most of the night and went to bed at the crack of dawn, remembering as I was getting ready for bed that I had to work the next afternoon. So I will be a little sleepy, but at least I remembered it at all.
The load out this afternoon went smoothly enough, relatively speaking. I stuck myself to the deck with tape again, horribly crumbled the poppadoms I'd brought with me (mercifully, they were wrapped in plastic), and then somehow managed to get lost leaving the venue I've worked a hundred times before. Whatever. I made it back to the Silver Fox's in one piece and then had some leftover vindaloo while we played Scrabble. Sadly, the Silver Fox is suffering from allergies and has a rash. I went to HEB to get him some hydrocortisone and bought not only that but also triple antibiotic, Blue Star ointment, some kind of anti chafing cream, gauze pads, paper tape, and juice. I love him; GTFO. Anyway, the excess creams came in handy since I've had an itchy spot on my arm for a few weeks now, and the cortisone fixed it overnight.
I went to a job interview this afternoon. It was terrible. Apart from the long drive, driving past the place twice, and then nearly walking into an adjoining suite by mistake, the commute went well enough. It was the place itself that was the problem. It was for a part time receptionist position that paid nine dollars an hour, and the woman interviewing me asked how I handled drama in the workplace. Already irked by the long drive and low pay, I knew that had to be bad news, and it was. She said the head of the place is super emotional and flies off the handle for no reason. The fact that that came up during the interview was hugely problematic, and I couldn't wait to get out of there. I left and went shopping. I bought birthday gifts for the Silver Fox's kids and a new lotion pump for my travel bag since I broke the other one. I knocked over a lot of scented soaps on display and nearly spilled juice in the car, but I averted major problems until I got home. At home, I assembled a gift basket for the Silver Fox's daughter, which was packed with dried grass, which of course crumbles everywhere and which of course I logically assembled on top of my bed. *sigh*
Later, I pigged out on the last of the vindaloo, a bunch of poppadoms with mango chutney, kulfi, chocolate chip cookie dough, and roast chicken. The potatoes in the roast chicken didn't quite get done, so I put them back in the oven and burned them. *sigh*
The Silver Fox called me later, quite drunk. We made plans for tomorrow, or at least tried to. He had called to tell me his schedule, but he didn't seem to have it sorted. Whatever. We agreed that I'd come over at noon, or at least I agreed. We'll see. I told him to take care of himself and pass out, and then I did the same.
January 17—I have not joined the masses. STFU.
I had some computer problems this morning: I couldn't figure out how to transfer files from one machine to the other, I couldn't get EditPlus to work on one of them, and then I had to uninstall and reinstall iTunes on both machines. "It just works," my ass. Fucking Apple. Here it is, just working. *sigh*
I then left to go pick up the Silver Fox. He answered the door, hungover, but appreciative of the smoothie I brought him. We hung out for a bit, and then I drove him to work. He's only working for four hours, so I'm waiting for him to get off work right now. I'm sitting in a coffee shop near campus, and it so pretentious. Not to mention cramped. I will show you my Facebook status by way of explanation.
Yes indeed. Aside from being cramped, I do not like my fellow coffee shop goers. The place is crawling with trendy-hat-wearing hipsters reading books with titles like Revolution and Mac laptops. Die, mother fuckers, die. On a related note, dear God am I glad it's too windy for a beret today. I'd be so ashamed I'd have to take it off, and I love my fucking beret.
On a related note, I am wearing impractical high heels today. It's so I can look sexy for the Silver Fox, but the shoes clonked over the wooden floor in here like an elephant stampede. As it is, I'm just relieved I didn't spill tea into my laptop bag, by which I mean an HEB tote bag and not a trendy faux leather thing with ugly clasps which admittedly would at least keep my shit from flying all over the place but would look too douchey to even be worth it. Still, it wouldn't kill me to invest in a proper laptop bag and/or overnight bag to take to the Silver Fox's.
Anyway, the Silver Fox just rang to tell me he's off work, and I can come to pick him now. Thank God for that.
January 18—Hot glue leads to hot water.
I dropped the Silver Fox off at work this morning and then returned home to cook and clean. I made macaroni and cheese with Tillamook, during which I spilled macaroni on the counter and floor, plus I dribbled cheese sauce across the stove. Whatever. It didn't burn, and it tasted good.
I later vacuumed the house and the car, tripping over the vacuum cord several times. At one point while vacuuming the car, I tripped on the cord and fell face first into the trunk. Not that I was in any danger of trapping myself in the trunk, but it's a relief to know that my trunk has a glow-in-the-dark handle on the inside just in case anything awful ever happens. That is simultaneously annoying since it means if I ever decide to kidnap somebody, they'll be able to let themselves out. It's okay; I also keep ratchet straps in the trunk and can tie them up so they can't reach the handle. Ahem.
Anyway, after I cleaned, I set about repairing a box lid with the hot glue gun. As usual when using aforementioned glue gun, I burned myself and got hot glue all over everything except where it was meant to go. I eventually fixed it. Then I gift wrapped a present for the Silver Fox, which was the usual debacle. With any luck, he'll tear the wrapping paper off so quickly he won't notice how much it sucks. Shut up.
After leaving my hot glue-encrusted computer room, I made a mango basil lime frozen yogurt smoothie. I made a mess, predictably, but it was delicious.
January 19—Cleaning sure makes a mess.
This afternoon, I got ready to head over to the Silver Fox's. I stopped by the car wash and the cleaners on the way there. Before leaving for the car wash, I tried to scrape the remains of my peeling Bevo sticker off my back windshield and failed. I now have a few random sticky scraps on my back window. Whatever. I also had some difficulty in navigating the cleaners as I have never taken anything to the cleaners before. (I'm a stagehand; it just doesn't come up.) Since I wore my nice red coat to work the other day and got it covered in dirt, it had to be professionally cleaned. Naturally, the cleaners I chose had new-fangled technology in a botched attempt at user friendliness. I left grumpily, wishing I'd just rubbed at the dirt with a wet cloth or something. Here's hoping my coat doesn't come back in worse shape than I left it.
Today was the first day of the load in for Wicked. The Silver Fox and one of his roommates and I carpooled in, and we briefly helped unload trucks before being assigned to our different departments. I worked as a carpenter, which was not as good as audio but nevertheless enjoyable since I got to work with the Silver Fox until he got moved to a different group. Naturally, I tripped over everything and pinched my finger (not badly) at one point. I also spilled tea all over the table during every break. With that track record, it's probably just as well that the Silver Fox drove us home.
Like yesterday, three of us carpooled to work this morning. Unlike yesterday, I was on props today, meaning I did not get to work with the Silver Fox, though we eyed each other from across the stage at every opportunity. Other than having to untie and retie a bunch of tie line, I avoided disaster for most of the day. That came in the evening.
Early in the day, my props coworkers and I set up the rehearsal room for the orchestra. That evening, after the rehearsal was over, our crew chief sent us back upstairs to remove all the chairs and music stands. One of my coworkers and I took a set cart to the freight elevator, rode it up to the third floor, and then realized that the freight elevator only went to one side of the third floor. There was a hidden way to sneak through the corridors, but we couldn't remember it, so we returned to the ground floor to begin again with a smaller set cart that would fit into the passenger elevator. We fought viciously with the set cart—its handle dropped off constantly, seemingly deliberately—and finally wedged it in sideways, realizing too late that we would never be able to put the full cart back on the elevator. Whatever. We rode up to the third floor and fought anew with the set cart to get it off the elevator. We rattled down the empty hallways with the cart, which crashed and boomed over every bump, echoing throughout the empty floor. We arrived at the rehearsal room and pushed the cart in, only to be greeted with a terrific trumpeting fanfare. Contrary to our instructions, the rehearsal was not over. We froze in terror for a fraction of a second and then speedily reversed into the hallway. We picked up the cart so it wouldn't make so much noise—again—and tiptoed back to the elevator, held up the heavy cart patiently while waiting for said elevator, and tiptoed in. Just before the doors closed, the handle dropped off the cart and crashed to the floor. *sigh* No matter. No one knew. Until now. Ahem.
Once again, the three of us carpooled to work, this time in pouring rain. The Silver Fox and I stopped to get breakfast tacos, and his other roommate got out and walked the rest of the way. The Silver Fox and I collected our tacos, drove the rest of the way to work, and then hobbled from the car to the building in the pouring rain while trying not to upset the tacos. Naturally, this failed: My over-easy eggs went over easily indeed, right over the taco wrapper and onto my lap. Not to worry; I spilled coffee on my sleeve later in the day. Luckily for me, today ended early. I left at just noon, realizing too late that I'd left my flashlight behind—the Silver Fox returned it to me later—and ran errands. I bought a mango-lime-basil smoothie and some fish roe and melba toast for the Silver Fox, and then I went home to cook and do laundry until I picked him up later. I shall have to remember to leave earlier next time: I had not taken into account the tremendous amount of foot traffic I'd face. I did not run over any patrons of the show, which was surprising considering the erratic walking patterns of some of them.
The Silver Fox and I stayed in a hotel last night as a brief respite from his roommates: It afforded him a semblance of his own place for the night, plus it was like a mini vacation. Obviously, I left my phone charger there when we left and had to pick it up later on my way to pick up the Silver Fox from work.
After picking up my cel phone charger, I still had time to spare, so I stopped in at Thunderbird Coffee and purchased a ludicrously overpriced cappuccino. I sat down and realized my phone was off (I'd left it off so as not to drain the battery without the charger) and turned it back on. I saw that I had a voicemail from the Silver Fox, telling me that the show went on half an hour earlier than usual tonight, thus he'd be ready to leave half an hour earlier. In other words, in just five minutes. Shit. I slammed my phone shut, threw my coat on, grabbed my expensive, tiny beverage, and fled. The Silver Fox called me en route as I was obviously running late. I picked him up and complained about the expensive and not-really-worth-it drink all the way home. I have got to stop drinking coffee. I really don't like it much; just that the smell of it is so tantalizing, and the creamy frothiness of a good cappuccino is so tasty—but all too rare to be worthwhile.
January 30—For Display Purposes Only
This evening, I went to the Dog and Duck with the Silver Fox for a coworker's retirement party. I brought along a small gift bag containing two knitted hats and a card on which was written a Celtic work blessing. I passed around the card with a pen and had everyone sign it, which meant of course that ink smudged all over the card and I never got my pen back. Fuckers.
Later, the Silver Fox and I went to a friend's place for dinner. While devoid of klutzy incidents other than tangling myself on the rug, the evening did not pass without incident. We stopped at a convenience store on the way back, and the Silver Fox ran inside to knock over a candy display. That was not actually his sole purpose for going in, but it was the chief result.
