Sunday, November 27, 2016

Moving, moving, moving

In July of this year, my landlady told me she was selling the building I've inhabited for over 17 years.  I have honestly never truly loved this apartment because it's on the first floor and on a corner so I can't leave my windows open to grab fresh air -- it's Chicago after all -- in the few months it's warm enough to enjoy that.  People could climb in, toss things in, even simply feast upon my things and me with just their eyes so it's not at all ideal.  But this place and I established a truce that went like this:  I would live here, it would accommodate me and my things, it wouldn't require too much, and I would run a not-terribly-powerful a/c in the summer.  Unfortunately, I stayed too long at the fair.

I have managed to become more stockpiler than hoarder but there is a lot of stuff, knickknack, objets, books.  Personal papers of both of my parents,  personal papers of my own, hobbies acquired and hobbies abandoned before being adequately pursued sit in bags or in piles or in piles of bags. Yes, I am embarrassed by this.  It never occurred to me that I was not married to any of it, that I might consider ditching much of it.  There are things here that I love and want to keep but I could survive without.  There are things here that I just don't need but like and enjoy.  There are the what-the-fucks, the oh-my-gods, the what-the-fuck-but-oh-my-god-I-love-yous.  There are books and pictures and picture books.  There are things that were given to me by ex-co-workers and ex-neighbors, small tokens that they were thinking of me for which I have no feeling.  This question arises:  what does one do with one's past obsessions and accumulations?

Today I passed on a couple of things that had no meaning for me to someone for whom they do have meaning.  Then I took seven bags of books and stuff to Goodwill and another three of books to the program that gives books to women prisoners.  I came home with yogurt and went out to get a solid box to house one of the what-the-fuck-but-oh-my-god-I-love-yous which is a spiral staircase a little over two feet tall.  I put down a layer of packing peanuts, put in the stairs, then filled the box with peanuts.  It's a move, things break, but I am hoping this piece will survive well.

Today I also sent a table, two matching chairs, and a solid stepstool to live with my departing landlady.  Rumor has it that she did very well in the sale of the building and good for her.  For years my rent was stupid low and that got me through an entire year when my hours at work were cut by 20%.  She is depressed and upset about leaving her beloved building but not because she stayed too long at the fair but because this was her home for 25 years and she never wanted to leave it.  At least she will have a nice table and chairs in the kitchen of her new condo, one less thing to think about.

So how does all this make me feel?  Scared.  I am scared.  I am also depressed because I so stunningly let my life get away from me.  What I liked to do, how I liked to live, how I spent my time in pursuit of personal pleasures have all gotten away from me and I am monumentally sorry, horrified, aghast, and disappointed in myself.  No one could me more disappointed in me than I am in myself.  Years slipped by and I can't believe I am the age I am.  I can still do things that many people would be scared to death to do -- like travel to a foreign country on my own sans tours, getting from the airport to the hotel on a public conveyance of some sort -- but so much else scampered off -- confidence, talent, ability -- and seems to be pissed off at me and is now stewing under a rock or up in a tree, waiting for me to find it and apologize sincerely before it tells me that all is forgiven but not forgotten and I will have to work very hard to be confident, talented, able.  I stayed at my job too long and with a condo looming in my future, I can't just go "no more, thanks," without something else to take its place.  No one is more disappointed in all this than I am.

I needed this to happen, I suppose; I just wish I'd come to the conclusion on my own 10 years ago.  I certainly wish I was something other than disappointed in myself.

Sunday, November 20, 2016

Happy Thanksgiving

Let's all dig deep and think hard and decide that we all have things to be thankful for this holiday season.

I am thankful for four brand new episodes of "Gilmore Girls," episodes that will finally end the show the way its creator, Amy Sherman-Palladino, wanted it to end.  They'll be available on Netflix starting November 25.

I am thankful that my three gum surgeries are over and done with.  Yes, yes, y'all.

I am thankful that I will be able to take advantage of 50%-off senior citizen transit rates this year.

Starting in December, I get a small pension from a job I had for just seven years.  Thank you!

I am thankful I've properly maintained my vehicle these many years.  After 18.5 years, it's still with me and doing well.

I am thankful for the followers of my blog.  There are not a lot of you but I appreciate you all.  Thank you.

Thank you, my friends and family.  I am a human being with flaws; thanks for accepting all of them.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.  Enjoy your day however you spend it.

Sunday, November 13, 2016

Sadness in the land

As Dave Chappelle said last night on Saturday Night Live, "I know Whites."  Well, Dave knows them better than me.  And Michael Moore was right.  And the sky fell.

Donald Trump is now the President Elect.

Hillary conceded with grace (and some tears).  She and Bill wore purple to symbolize the unity of red and blue. She won the popular vote but the electoral college gave it to Trump.  The electoral college, a system whose time has passed.

I spent Wednesday being either nauseous or in tears.  I honestly said, "I am worried that I might not ever get over this."  Thursday was better.  On Friday morning I was okay but had to run a quick errand outside of the office at lunchtime -- this happens about thrice a year -- and thought about Trump winning the election and spent the rest of the day feeling nauseous or with tears in my eyes.

Trump and Obama met at the White House.  They both looked pissed off.  My coworker said she thought Trump looked like a deer in the headlights.  I thought he looked like an angry gasbag.  Both are probably pretty close to the mark.

I have had a lot of stress this year and this didn't help.  I was sure the market would tank and take with it a goodly portion of my 401k but it did not tank.  The market, in fact, went up.

I need to stop thinking about this and consider other things like my probable upcoming move (more stress), how I need to pack up things to take to Goodwill next week (what do I want to keep and what do I want to rid myself of), and my lovely new manicure which looks like gold glitter.  It's a dip, y'all, and it looks wonderful.  If nothing else, my hands make me feel like I have it going on.  It's not true but illusion is nice.

Trump won the vote of a lot of scared white people in an election that was fueled by fear.  They're afraid of not being in the majority.  Scared white people!  You will eventually not be in the majority!  You have to embrace the world as it is, not the cruel, rude, fearful place where you presently dwell.  A campaign of fear is what Dick Cheney did in the the 2004 election.  He came out and said that if he and Bush were not re-elected, the terrorists would attack.  He left off the other half of the statement which is if they were re-elected, the terrorists would also attack.  Why?  Because they are terrorists who want to bring down what they perceive as the American way of life and they don't care who is in charge.  They also want to rip French culture to ribbons and make living in the UK suck.  Of course, thanks to Brexit, the UK screwed that pooch without help from any terrorists anywhere.  Kind of how we got Trump.

Sunday, November 6, 2016

Might be my view

This might the view from my living room
And this might be my lobby


Yes, yes, I might just be taking the condo-buying plunge, even at my advanced age.  Yes, yes, the unit is quite petite but since I'd been thinking that living in a nice-sized hotel room wouldn't bother me, that having just a bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom would probably work out -- it surely does when I am on vacation and I even like it -- then I am embracing ridding myself of things.  The week I was on vacation got five bags of things to the Goodwill.  Today I am taking over seven bags of even better stuff that I just don't use and I am hardly making a dent!  I am going to attempt to put my bigass non-HDTV in the alley today but it's big and mostly heavy and I am not so upper-body strong and yesterday I managed to pull the living crap out of a hamstring muscle (yes, it hurt and still does hurt).  So stay tuned! I may be sending various shots of this view for the next few years if all goes well or it may all fall through and everything will go into storage and I will move in with my friend who offered me a roof for a few months.  Here's the stellar bit: the unit is small but the parking is included and on the first floor of the parking garage.

Now excuse me, but I need to get this stuff to the Goodwill.

And if you haven't participated in early voting, get out and vote on November 8th!