Death and Taxes

Perhaps death and taxes are paired together not only because you can’t escape them, but because doing your taxes feels like death.  At least I’m getting a refund this year, as I have every year, so there’s that to be thankful for.  Of course it’s not the the ga-jillions of dollars I was hoping it would be, but every little bit helps.  Every year though I fill in those little boxes with the dread that I’m going to somehow owe $5,000 to the IRS.  With the way my luck is going, I was sure that this would be the year.  Luckily though I escaped to  owe another day.  Now I just have to wait and hope that there aren’t any problems with my return (there shouldn’t be, it’s not like I have stocks and bonds and own half of Wales or anything) and that I don’t get audited.  Fingers crossed.

In other news, there’s lots of snow, huh?  I happen to have today and tomorrow off of work by some miracle, and I’m preparing my food list now so I can get stuff before the mad rush.  Then the plan is to sit inside and drink cocoa until Thursday.  Good luck to all of you struggling with the snow too, and be safe out there!

Day Off

Today is my last day off for a while.  I’m working the next seven days straight, and I wanted to get a bunch of stuff done today.  Whilst bringing up my wet laundry to dry (I’m too cheap to spend another $1.50 for the dryer so I use my old college drying rack and an ingenious clothes line I concocted out of yarn), I ran into the cute Columbian dude who lives across the hall.  He started talking to me and asking me if I was single and stuff, and then he asked if I’d like to go salsa dancing with him sometime.  I said yeah, because really, who doesn’t want to learn to salsa dance?  Then he said that I could come over in a little bit and he’d teach me.  Cool.  I had a date.  Only problem – all my clothes were wet.  So I had to make do with a t-shirt and somewhat ink stained pants that were all I had and hoped for the best.  I let a friend know where I was going and tucked my pocket knife into my bra, because I choose to be safe, kids.  And then I headed over.

We talked a little more and he put on some music and showed me the steps of some latin dances.  Fun!  Then he tried a little ‘Dirty Dancing – Havana Nights’ moves like pulling my hips in and stuff.  Mmmhmmmm.  I went with the flow but kept him from being fresh at the same time.  After all, I am a lady.  He offered me a beer and I declined – it was, after all, 2 in the afternoon.  When it got to around 3 I told him I’d best be off, when he asked me if I liked him and totally tried to pull me in for a kiss and stick his tongue in my mouth.  I of course dodged and told him that I just met him and I like to move at a slower pace.  He kept trying as I made my way to the door and told him that I had to take my dog out.  So I went to get my dog and of course, Columbia still tried to catch me in the hall and get me to go back into his apartment and kept trying to kiss me.  I again nudged him off declined, and went back to my apartment, where my roommate was up and waiting for me. 

So, not exactly as I’d hoped it would go.  Is it so hard to find an actually gentleman these days who doesn’t drink beer and try to force his tongue on you the first time you hang out?  But I have assurances from my roommate that if Columbian tries anything funny he’ll get the cops on him like white on rice (My roommate’s family is a bunch of cops.)  Sweet.  Now I’m just hoping there won’t be any awkwardness next time I see him in the hallway, and I’m working on my lines such as “You’re just moving too fast for me”, or “I’d just like to be friends”, or if necessary, “My 250 pound weight lifting ex-boyfriend is back in town and we’re going to give it another go”.  In case you couldn’t tell, one of those is a lie, but hopefully will still get the message across.

Oh My God

You know how you do something big, but it doesn’t really hit you until much later?  I just did something big.  It hasn’t really hit me yet, but I’m sure it will sometime soon.

I have really nice, naturally curly hair.  It’s been short all of my life because it’s just really hard to grow without getting tangles and split ends.  But for the past 5 years, I grew my hair.  I trimmed it when I needed to, but I never cut  much off.  Because I had a purpose.  I thought that when my hair got long enough I’d donate it to Locks of Love.  It took a really long time, because I had to have 10 inches of hair to cut off.  And of course I needed to have enough hair left for my own uses after the 10 inches had been lost.  Recently my hair’s been nice and long, and just about down to my waist when you pull it straight.  It started getting annoying to sleep on because it would get stuck under me, and I’d roll over and get yanked back by my hair.  But it was beautiful.  And today I was in a wierd, stressed out, exhausted funk that I call my life, and I made a decision.  I hacked it off. 

    

My hair is now rubber banded and sealed in a ziploc baggie, waiting for me to get a padded envelope and mail it down to Florida, where people will use it to probably make wigs for 16 kids (I have thick hair and lots of it!).  Even now I’m catching myself running my hands over my head, trying to wrap up my emmensely long hair, only to find that it isn’t there.  I now look like a cross between Jo from Little Women and the triangle haired lady from Dilbert.  And this is going to take some getting used to again, and I’m probably not going to like it at first.

But it’s worth it.  I did something really great for a kid in need.  And, on top of that, I followed through to myself.  I told myself for years that I’d wait, that I’d cut my hair only when I could give it to Locks of Love.  Quite a few times I wanted to just say screw it and cut off a few inches, but I stuck it out.  I’m pretty proud of myself for that.  Just between you and me, I’m usually more of a “give up because it’s easy” type.  But I didn’t this time.  And I’ve got the goofy haircut to prove it.

Blackout

Sunday night there was a massive blackout that took out miles of buildings across three townships.  I discovered this on my way home from work when traffic lights were out, and then the grocery store across the street was out, and then my apartment complex was out.  I Helen Kellered my way down the pitch black hallway to my front door, praying that Teddy wouldn’t run out when I opened it, since I’d never find him if he got out.  Luckily my pup was right there to greet me and was very excited to see me, since I think he’d been sort of scared by the whole thing.  He stuck to me like glue as I searched through the apartment for all the candles that I’ve collected over the years and lighting them all.  Then I called my roommate to let him know, and he made his way back home with his boyfriend. 

This leads me to part two of this post – my apartment has a ghost.  After a while my roommate walked his boyfriend out by flashlight, closing the door behind them.  I was in the living room cuddling with Teddy, when I saw something out of the corner of my eye.  It was the front door – it opened about 4 inches and then stopped.  I managed to squeak out a muffled and scared “hello?”, and then walked to the door.  No one was there, and I could just see my roommate’s flashlight starting to come back down the hall from the other end.  So how did that happen?  We were inside so there was no wind, we had no windows or anything open inside either to make a draft.  And we’ve left that door closed but not locked tons of times and it has never opened on its own. 

This is the second wierd thing that’s happened.  The first was one day a week or so ago when I turned off the tv.  Simple enough.  Then I walked away and started fiddling with my fish tank.  About 4 seconds later, the tv turns back on.  Nothing was near the tv or remote, and it had been too long to say that I’d just held the button down to long.  Wierd. 

Last night right before I came home a light bulb blew out.  This is the second bulb to blow out since we moved in.  Taken seperately it could all just be random happenings, but together?  Possible ghosty.

Things I Can’t Say Anywhere Else

Hello world, Happy New Year to all 5 of you who will ever read this!  I hope you and yours had a good New Years and have tons of good things come to you this year.  With that said, let’s get to the meat and potatoes of this post.  Strap yourselves in, it’s a two-parter.

I have become increasingly aware of the fact that, as I join more and more social networking sites and thingies such as facebook and twitter and the like, the less I am actually able to say on them.  First I joined myspace back in the day, and I friended people I knew or random strangers that I didn’t care about because I’d never meet anyway.  And I could say stuff, what I was thinking and feeling.  Then I moved on to facebook, and blogging, and twitter, and it started off the same, I could say whatever I wanted because I was only friends with a few people on there and they were cool anyway.  Now my family is on facebook.  Now my roomate and his new boyfriend follow me on twitter.  Now people from work circles and high school teachers are on facebook.  And now I can’t say a damn thing without worrying who will read it and if it will come back to bite be at my next job interview or family function.  And that blows.

That’s why I like my blog more now, my little piece of the internet that really no one knows about because I don’t tell anyone about it.  Or at least, if I do, I don’t tell them how to find it.  I like how I can make friends through here that are real friends, but I can still say whatever I want because it’s my blog and they won’t judge me.  Or if they do, the worst that will happen is that they’ll stop reading. 

It bothers me that I have to constantly censor myself or just not say what I feel because I’m worried about who will read it and be offended.  I want to say whatever I want, even if it’s just a passing feeling that I don’t really believe anyway but that’s what I feel right now and have to get out.  That’s why I’m here today, blog, to let it out.  Because otherwise I’ll keep it inside forever and it’ll eat at me along with everything else I can’t say and someday I’ll go crazy and start yelling everything I’ve ever thought at some random passers by.   Which leads me to part deux:

I have to get this out.  And I can’t put it anywere else, because the people it’s about will see it. 

I like my roommate.  He is my friend.  I like his new boyfriend.  He is also becoming my friend.  I like how they waited to see Sherlock Holmes until I had a day off so I could go too, just because they’re thoughtful like that.  What I don’t like is how I sat next to them making out through half of the movie.  This bothers me for several reasons:  1 – I hate being the third wheel, as do we all I’m sure.  Why you gots to rub it in my face that you’re in a relationship by making out in the cramped movie seats right next to me!  Which leads me to 2 – I hate PDA, I think it’s inappropriate and rude to make out in public places in front of everyone.  Save it for in private, dude, no one wants to see that.  3 – You just paid ten bucks to see a movie – watch the freakin movie!  You can make out later.  And if you just can’t wait that long – don’t go to the movies, stay home and make out!  4 – I will emphasize again, they were in the seats right next to me.  At least sit on your own and away from me if you’re going to do that, because I don’t need to hear your slurping sounds during the movie that I also paid ten bucks to see and want to actually watch.

So that’s my gripe for the day, the gripe I can’t put anywhere else because people will see it and know that it’s about them.  And it’s not that I talk about other people behind their backs all the time, I don’t.  A true friend stabs you in the front, after all.  I just like having a place where I don’t have to worry that my aunt or high school drama teacher or coworker will be able to read everything I think.  Because some stuff you have to get out, because it’s just a passing gripe in your mind, but you also want to keep it private, because it’s not how you feel all the time. 

That’s why I love you blog.

Drip, drip

There is a water leak in my apartment that drips from the bathroom ceiling into the toilet.  This has been happening on and off since we first moved in in November.  The water comes through a vent in the ceiling more when the people upstairs take a shower, and somewhat slower throughout the rest of the day.  There have also been other leaks through the ceiling, one that filled up a light fixture with water, which is an electrical hazzard as well.  I’ve called the property manager multiple times and they’ve said that they’ll send someone out to fix it, but of course they haven’t.  Now they don’t even take my calls and the secretary gives me some bull that the guy I’m supposed to talk to “isn’t in the office”.  The only other option I can think of is to call the township and have a public housing inspector or something come and look at the leak so they can force the property manager to fix it.  Any suggestions of who I should be looking for to help me?

I was really hoping that I wouldn’t have these kind of problems, and that the property management company would want to, you know, keep their buildings up to code.  Guess not.  Well they definately got more than they bargained for with me, because I’m going to harrass the shit out of them until this is fixed.  Or if my blind rage takes over first, bust a hole in thier ceilings and pour buckets of water onto them.

Ladybugs and Fireflies

Hello again.  I haven’t been updating like I’d hoped to.  But here I am, attempting to make progress in my internet documentation of my trials and tribulations.  So here’s the scoop:

I had my 27th birthday.  This one really hit me that I’m getting older and pushing 30.  Aaaaaahhhhhh!  I guess everyone feels the same as they age, but I’m starting to realize that in my head I’ll always be 21, while my body is going to keep chugging along and gradually betraying me as being, well, older. 

I think my main problem with this last birthday is that it throws into light everything that I haven’t achieved yet, things that I thought I’d have or accomplished by now that I haven’t.  When I planned out my life I didn’t see myself here.  I look at friends who are married and have great jobs and bought their first house, and I can’t help but feel a little pang, because, that was supposed to be me too.  But life is what happens while you’re making other plans, as they say, and I guess the best I can do is push on with my goals in mind and do what I can to get there.  I’ve pretty much always been a late bloomer, so maybe that’s all this is too, I’m just taking the scenic route while everyone else is on the fast track.  When I think of it that way it actually doesn’t seem too bad.  At least I get to experience all the little things along the way, right?

In other news, my new apartment is going really well.  Well, there’s been a few maintenance problems such as a leaky ceiling and broken dishwasher, but otherwise I’m pretty comfortable here.  My roommate is a long-time friend, and so far living together has been smooth sailing and we’re getting to be better friends rather than hating each other.  Even Teddy has adjusted really well considering he’s spastic and anxious.  I set up my old fish tank as a saltwater aquarium, and I have some really cool saltwater fish and invertebrates living in harmony together, which I think is really awesome. 

So, am I the happiest I’ve ever been in my life?  Not at all.  But I’m not at my lowest anymore either.  I don’t think that my life has gotten much easier or better, but maybe that I’ve adjusted to it and I can handle it now.  The bumps aren’t as big of a shock or battle anymore.  I can deal with them, and I can get through them.  That’s what this past year has taught me I guess.  So here’s to a great Christmas season filled with the things that really matter, joy and love and peace and giving.  And here’s to the coming year, which, at the very least, I will enter with much less trepidation that I did the last.

Um, Hello

Hi.  My name’s Cyndi.  I used to blog here.  It’s been almost a year since I wrote anything.  For a long time I really didn’t think I had anything to say.  For a long time there were things I wanted to say but not admit to.  It’s been a long year.  A lot has happened, and in some ways not much at all has.  But I think that I decided to try and start this up again, because for the fist time in a long time, I think I’m getting to a better place in my life.  I’m getting some hope back, some excitement, and even some happiness now and then.  It’s not all sunshine and rainbows over here, but I’m hopeful for the future again, which is a really important feeling.

So let’s recap on my past almost year.  I’m in a new job – yay!  It’s not a library job, those are still somewhat elusive, but it’s better than the teaching job.  The way that job ended is a ridiculous and disgusting fiasco that I don’t want to even get into, but sufficed to say, I’m better off now.  At the end of the month I’m moving out of this house I’ve rented with two other “Craigslist roommates” for the past couple of years and into a really cool apartment with an actual friend.  I’m very excited, and I think that I’m going to be happier there.  Plus, they’re pet friendly so bringing my dog along is not a problem, it seems a bunch of people there have dogs too.  It’ll probably be wierd to be in an apartment building instead of a house, but I’m really looking forward to not having to worry about mowing the lawn and shoveling the snow and keeping up appearances and things like that.  Now I just have to worry about packing up and moving all my crap.

I haven’t been happy living in this house for a while, but I put off moving out since I couldn’t really afford anything else on my own, and I liked the freedom that I could find a job somewhere else without being tied down to a big lease or mortgage.  Now that I have a stable job in this area, I’m figuring that I’ll at least be around for a while, since who knows how long it’ll take me to find a library job.  The new place has a one year lease and then it’s month to month after that, so at least I won’t be tied down too badly.  Plus the rent includes heat and water, which is pretty swell.  I think it’s going to be a good change for me.

In other news, I finished my masters degree in the early spring, so I now have a large framed diploma declaring me a master of science hanging on my wall.  It was a big achievement for me and I’m pretty proud of it.  Of course I haven’t found a job in that field yet, but I’m still working on that.

I guess that’s most of the big stuff that I can think of at the moment.  I’m hoping that my spirits will continue to improve, or at least remain above a depressed level and that I’ll have some eventful and non-sucky posts in the near future.  So hello again, and I hope to see you soon!

I Exist

It’s kind of wierd to be back here again.  I’ve been avoiding this for a really long time now, partly because I felt I didn’t have anything to say, and partly because I didn’t want to say the things I could.  Because I’m floundering here.  And I didn’t want to admit how low I’ve been or how far I’d fallen.  I still don’t. 

I’m in a job that pays next to nothing, sucks the life out of me, and keeps me continually ill but doesn’t offer health insurance.  I come home exhausted and brain dead, stuffy nosed and shivering (because both work and I are too cheap to put the heat up past 60 degrees, and also because I’m almost always fighting off a fever).  There are a lot of days where I just break down and feel like I can’t take it anymore. 

And still I find it a hard place to leave.  I know that I won’t be there any longer than this school year (I hope by then I’ll have a nice library job), but as much as I want to leave I know that it’s going to be really hard too.  These kids constantly hug me and say “I love you” and fight over who gets to sit next to me.  They brag over who’s my best friend, and one boy told me that he’s my little buddy and will be forever.  How can you just up and leave that?  I know they mean everything and they’ll be sad when they don’t see me anymore.  But I also know that they’ll be over it in no time, and in the grand scheme of their lives I’m just a blip on the radar.  I do wonder though if they’ll remember me, if they’ll appreciate me when they’re older.  Some have said, “Miss Cyndi, I’ll never forget you.”  But will they really?  I know that some won’t remember me at all, and some will remember a few specific times.  They’re young, and I’m only one person after all.  But I am hoping that maybe I can plant some seeds in their heads that will inspire them later on.

One day a week I have a science class with the kids, and for the past few weeks we’ve been learning about our solar system, starting off with space in general and the sun, and then doing two planets each week.  Right now we’ve finished up to Saturn.  I’ve been doing pretty difficult stuff with them, and I’m amazed that they’re actually retaining it.  They’re 4 years old and they can actually list the first six planets in order from the sun, and tell you at least one feature of each.  Last week a boy was looking through some red glass and said, “Hey, it looks like Mars!”, since we’d learned that Mars was red.  One girl brought me a picture of a volcano in a book and said, “See, it’s like on Venus!”  And ever since I used watering the plants as an example of gravity (as in, gravity pulls the water down as you pour, not sideways or up), someone says, “let’s test gravity!” whenever I get out the watering can.  (I also taught them that scientists like to test their ideas over and over again to be extra sure they’re right).  Three kids have told me they want to be scientists when they grow up, and my “little buddy” wants to be an astronaut.  Every day at least one kid asks, “are we doing science today?”  It gets annoying sometimes, since they know that science is only on Tuesdays, but it’s nice too because it shows that they like it and want to do it.

I won’t get to be their buddy forever.  But if I can get them to think that learning is fun and that school is a positive place to be, then maybe I’ll have accomplished something really great with my time there.  I think I’ve been doing a good job so far.  Last year my “little buddy” was something of a behavior problem, but this year his parents gave me a Christmas card that read, “Thanks so much for all that you do.  T talks about you a lot.  He really enjoys school.  Thanks for making it a positive experience for him.  We really appreciate all you do.  Happy Holidays, the Z’s.”

In fact, I got a lot of nice Christmas cards (my favorite is one of those new recordable cards and when I open it my student says “Miss Cyndi?  Merry Christmas!  Happy New Year!  Byyyyeeeee!” and then it plays a song) and presents from the kids and their families.  16 in all, I believe.  (I counted because I have to get thank you cards for them all).  And these are nice presents.  I have over $130 just in gift cards.  And that’s only 6 gifts.  I have so much chocolate and cookies and goodies that my plan of not eating Christmas sweeties this year is officially out the window.  But it’s not just the nice gifts, it’s reading the cards and knowing that what I do and suffer for is appreciated, sometimes very very much.  And it’s the thought that somewhere down the road one of these kids is going to be sitting in a classroom and think, ‘gravity, ha,  I learned that in nursery school’, or that one day I’ll see my “little buddy” on tv take mankinds first steps on Mars.  It’s the thought that, whether they remember me or not, whether they realize it or not, I’m making an impression.  I’m impacting their lives in a positive way. 

That’s the thought that’s going to keep me going in the coming months when money’s tight and the bills are pilling up that I just can’t pay.  That’s what I’ll try to latch onto when I’m in the doctor’s office for the umpteenth time.  And that’s what I’ll remember when I finally pull out of that parking lot for the last time.

This Just Says It All

http://www.comedycentral.com/videos/index.jhtml?videoId=184086