Again, it's four am and I'm not quite sure why I'm awake.
Tuesday morning and the Memorial day weekend is over. Memorial day doesn't quite register as a holiday in my head, somehow. I know, thank you, veterans, for fighting. I love my freedom and love where I live. I have plenty of friends who aren't from this country and appreciate the fact that they are allowed to live here and thrive.


Let's see, maybe I can break it down for a recap.

Monday-Thurs, situation normal, nothing to report, really.
Friday, Bos on vacation, co-worker isn't at work by ten so I call him. "Howdy, John, blah, blah. Just checking to see if you are ok, call me, blah." I think that was the exact message. He called me back shortly to tell me he was not coming to work and would be in on Tuesday. Oh, I see. Everyone gets a four day weekend but me. Fine.
Turns out his living situation is pretty much hell and things came to a head. The police were involved, I expect to get the whole story today.
Friday night, Erik picks me up after work, in retrospect, maybe I should have gone home becuase I ended up in MV without toothbrush, jammies or any of the other things that girls just need because they are girls. Boys don't understand. Erik sold the van to his mom(Mama) and her bf (the moody Scicilian). The guys bled the brakes while Jr's gramma (Mama), Jr and I played and watched cartoons.

Saturday morning. Started my period. Very painful and gallons of blood. Thankfully, I had a bunch of tampons in my backpack because I was late and expected to start bleeding. I just didn't expect so much! Spent the morning on the couch drinking coffee with Southern Comfort and moaning softly while the guys played videogames.
I whined because I wanted to change my socks and underwear and comb my hair. Erik handed me a comb. Jr went to a martial arts class with his granpa (Papi) and I left a trail of blood all over MV.
(Listen, fellas. If a woman is lying on a couch, moaning softly and complaining that she can't comb her hair and her stomach hurts, she's probably on the rag.
Stroke her messy hair and offer her painkillers and backrubs. She will probably bite you but not as hard as she will if you say "what are you, on the rag or something?".
I don't understand why it's such a mystery.
Some day I will write the definitive guide to knowing when your woman is bleeding 9 pints of calves blood, so you guys won't have to wonder anymore. I know it all seems mysterious and weird, but it really isn't)
We went to Golden Gate Park and drank beers, watched the people and waited for Papi to drop off Jr. More playing went on.
Sunday. More laying on the couch. More bleeding. At one point I told Erik I had terrible cramps and that I had started my period. He said something like "oh, so it all ties in?" I have no idea if he was being sarcastic or not. By this time I had my Wal-eeve or whatever they call it and didn't much care about anything (tummyhurts, need bathroom). I'm sure we did something. Hmm. Sunday. Maybe we didn't do anything.
Monday. We got up late and played Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas, until at least noon. Showers were taken. Food was eaten. Shoes and socks were put on. I put my bloody and rinsed out underwear in a plastic sack in my bag and took out the bathroom trash because I didn't want anyone else to have to deal with it. I'm so glad they don't have a dog.
We went to the park, but Jr was tired so it didn't last long. I told Erik, "That's ok, I need to get home and do a load of wash, anyway. He took me home and I was soo tired I fell asleep around 8pm, waking again around two and now here I am.
4:36.
AM.
Sorry this was so bloody and painful. I'm feeling much better now, but should have gone to the store for more tampons. Not looking forward to waking up. Oh, it already happened.
I have photos. Wait for them.

Bad me. Not updating for five days. tsk, tsk.

I haven't been home in the evenings much lately and a moratorium has been put on personal business on the work computer.
This computer is running slower than ever. I have a million more excuses.

The weather has been great and I've been running around. We went to Hayward yesterday so he could buy another car. This one is a volvo stationwagon type thing. It kind of feels like riding in a mini-van. It's boxy. It's safe. It's white.
When I opened up the passenger door I found a little wasp nest with a real live pulsating wasp hovering over it. The wasp and nest were dispatched by the car seller with a spray bottle and we got back in. I said, "gee, that bug spray smells really good." and Erik said, "Oh, it was spray and wash.".

We drove back to the city via the San Mateo bridge at sunset and the view was gorgeous. It's been many years since I've been over that bridge.
He always takes me on the most beautiful trips. I'm very grateful for that. Tears come to my eyes sometimes when we come out of the Waldo Tunnel heading to the city and I see the Golden Gate poking up into the fog, or standing in the clear sunshine.
We drive past the sign that says "101 North, Eureka" and I think, "That way is home". but it's not. Keep driving until you get to the bridge. That's the way home.

I have been writing more guides for eVilbay. If you want to read them, please do. If that link doesn't take you there, I'm sorry. It's 4am. That's nighttime for me.
Be sure to cast a vote. Maybe someday I will be in the top 100. Maybe. They certainly aren't literary masterpieces, but they do get publicity for our store and that's what it's all about.

Why am I awake?

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

Self-Portrait Thursday

An old one. My hair will be that long again one day soon...

well, im tryna upload some photos for y'all but it just ain't working that i can see. probably when i publish this it will be in there twice and I will look like more of an ass than usual.

anyway, I was gonna say
Life is nice. I like it a lot these days.

The photos I found in my camera when I got back to work from my week off.

I think he said, “I love you” to me this morning.
He was hugging me goodbye and mumbled something into my hair. The “I” was clear but the rest of it got sort of slurred into my neck. You know, how you start to say something and then sort of turn it into humming a little tune? Like that.
“I luvlalalaalalaaa”
Haha

I say, “love you” to most all my friends. It’s getting hard not to say the words to him.
I have never been with someone this long without saying the words unless I really did not love the someone for some reason.
However, do I really love him? Am I sure? Is this what I want? Is this last three months of feeling happy; of never fighting, of amazing sex, of passionate kisses and looking into each other’s eyes, is this love?

I spent my entire vacation with him. We had a great time. Not really doing anything special. Hanging around, driving around, walking around.
The brakes went on his van and I got the privilege of watching he and his father and his son and his friend Steeve run around and fix car and talk and laugh with each other while I sat on the grass and smoked. When we were getting ready to leave his dad said, “look at JJ there sitting so quietly like Buddha”. I guess it was a compliment. I would like to think he wasn’t referring to my fat belly.

Oh, I guess I should mention that he got a new car. 1980 Toyota Celica. Runs good, needs work. All hail, amen.
It is so close to the ground and so cozy after riding in the van. Jr has been banished to the back seat where kids under (how many feet tall) are supposed to ride, hoo hah!
Jr is not happy about it but he has windows and a whole back seat to himself so I think he will get used to it.


The first day of vacation. Thursday night, really. He picked me up after work and we were headed for the bridge.
An aside on this, I used to be able to count the times I had been over (and under) the bridge on one hand. Now, I have no idea how many times. I suppose I could count or something. Ahh, fugeddaboudit.
We were driving in the van and I went to flick my cigarette ash out the window. I’d had problems with the ashes coming back in on me before but this time a hot cherry came back and landed in my right eye. I closed my eye and covered it with my hand and said “OW”. He asked me what was wrong and I told him “hot ash in the eye”.
My eye was watering copiously and I opened it up to finger around because I could feel something (or someone) in there. I pulled out a cinder the size of a mouse poo and held it out for him to see. He said “wow” or something like that. I said, “I’m going to sit here and cry for awhile, I guess”. He said, “Ok”, and that’s what I did.
I had no mirror to speak of so I couldn’t tell what it looked like. It was watering so much and it really hurted.
When we got to his place, I made a beeline for the bathroom and looked and the horrid mess that used to be my right eye. It was bright red and swollen and still watering a lot. I pulled it open and I could see a blister on the inside of my top and bottom eyelid. I called out “Erik, come look at my eye, I can’t really see it”. He came in and looked at my eye. I said, “can you see a blister?” and he said, “yeah. I see one on your eyelid but what really bothers me is the one on your eyeball”.
EEEWWWW!
A blister on my eyeball? Gross.
Anyway, I couldn’t really see out of it. It pussed and watered and looked disgusting for three days. It got stuck shut when I closed it. I had to soak it open the first day. Then it was all better and not hurty and not blurry. I can still see a lump when I am looking out my eye, but I cannot see anything when I inspect it. Whew.

Nothing else really noteworthy happened.
Last night he picked me up after work and he had some time to hang out. We decided to go to the park and he asked if I would buy some beer. But of course!
We went to the Bell market that is closing. The one on the end to Haight street, right across the street from the park. Everything was 40-60% off and I figured they would have no beer. I was right.
They did however have wine, on sale and we got two bottles of white Manachewitz and a bottle of Watermelon Pucker. Cheep.
We went to the park and all the regular suspects were there.
Oh, the wine was sweet and the Pucker made a great chaser.
After about 15 minutes of chugging we were calling it Bananachewitz and Watermelon Motherfucker.
He called his dad to see if dad could pick up Jr at school and dad said no.
He made a plan to take me with and pick up the child and then take me home later.
We went to the school and picked him up and played on the playground there for a while.
I got a sliver in my knee and Jr got a sliver in his hand from the wood chips they put down in the playground.
Once we got back from the playground to his place we decided I would stay the night, rather than have him drive me all the way back across the bridge, with the child and then they drive back to his place, all with him pretty buzzed. It was bad enough that he drove home that way, why tempt fate, right?
So I passed out on his bed and was almost two hours late for work this morning (which is ok, I have a flexible schedule. I just had to stay late. Blah).
Oh, this has to be a thousand words by now.
I am back. Did you miss me?

I'm on vacation.
Be back sometime in the future.
Love, JJ

New Sox On SPT!!!

My kick-ass new sox with the little stuffed animals on them. I got six pair with different lil animal heads on each pair. Yes, that's my leg with the wave tattoo on it and those of you who know me but haven't seen me in a while will notice that there is no longer any hair on the old calf.

Lunch!

Black bean burger with LOTS of SPROUTS and ONIONS and SWISS CHEESE!
By the way, the berries and cream Dr Pepper is EXCELLENT!

Attn: All Tenants

Below is an accurate rendition of a note that got slid under my door today:


Re: Trash and trash cans in building

All trash or garbage you may have must now be thrown in tiny cans provided and will now all be kept in kitchens. Any garbage that is food or un hygienic must be tied in plastic bags and sealed properly.

Do NOT throw garbage in hallway space any more
All trash is to be neatly put next to or in garbage cans in kitchen.

Anyone dumping trash in hallway space will be warned and if continues possibly asked to leave.

We appreciate you help in this matter to keep building clean for all of your neibor tenants aswell as yourselves.

We have been asked to move them as this may be a hazard for fire, or block an emergency exit.

Respectfully,
The Management

I get notices like this once in a while. This one is significant to me because of an incident that happened about three months ago.

A little background, if you will indulge me.

I have lived here since Nov of 2002.
Up until the mysterious above mentioned incident (that I will disclose in a moment, indulge me), I took my trash out the back door, down the stairs and put it in the trash cans in the alley way. You know, like people who live in apartments do.
This is a hotel, technically, even though we don't have a front desk and all the rooms are monthlys (monthlies?).
I have lived in hotels for years. All of them had a big trash can at the end of the hall where you tossed your trash bag and it was whisked away by fairies in the middle of the night, or taken down the stairs by a cursing person, depending on the place.
So.
Three or so months ago I got up in the morning, put my clothes on and took my trash down the stairs to the cans in the alleyway and exited through the alley to get my morning coffee from the shop downstairs. Like people do.
The manager (owner's son, about 30ish, Jedi Knight, another story) said, "jj, what are you doing coming out the back door?"
"Well, I just took my trash out and I was going out anyway, I figured why go back up the stairs?"
"You aren't allowed in the alley! No one is supposed to go in the alley except the cleaning lady!"
He was clearly in shock. How could this have escaped his attention for all these years?
I says, "What am I supposed to do with my trash, then?"
"Bag it up and leave it in the hall and the cleaning lady will take it down to the trash."
"But, Jedi Knight, that is not only disgusting but a fire hazard and directly disobeys the sign in the hall that says, 'Do Not Leave Trash In The Hall'".
"JJ, don't argue, just leave your trash in the hall."
"Fine. I will."
And by golly, I did.

Today when the note came, it made me laugh a little. Then it made me cry a little because of the grammar, punctuation and spelling.
I took a photo of it that I will try to insert here at some point.

Now I am going to do a little "I told you so" dance.

I may also take a photo of the "tiny cans provided".

Dick Graves Nugget. Sparks, Nevada. Get your prospector on.
(I know this means nothing but he is a cutie bobble head so love him)