it's little bit's journal

but I have entirely fallen out of the habit of posting here.

Anyway, I got a new phone (same number). If you'd like me to have your contact information, please send it to me.

I'm really looking forward to my schedule one day coinciding with my fella's. Just as I get through my really unpleasant long haul, he's just starting out on his. He's over there in the corner chain smoking and cursing at his computer. Poor guy. Unfortunately, I was kinda looking for a slightly more restful evening.

What should I read next, please? Just got through with a Doris Lessing, and while I kind of get it, it'd be a relief to dig into something perhaps a little less painful and self-absorbed (though, self-absorbed is a weird word to use on something written in the third person).

So a gaggle of my more-intelligent-and-more-risk-averse-than-me friends have gotten together to unfortunately, successfully, talk me out of the idea of a Vespa.

God, I *hate* it when people are incontrovertibly right when I don't want them to be.*

*whilst simultaneously, obviously, grateful that no one wants to see me become a grease stain on the pavement.

My car has pretty much reached the end of its natural life and I'm not really driving these days because I work at the train station and greatly prefer commuting on the train. But Jeff's schedule is going to change pretty soon and he's going to be a lot less available for random schlepping, plus the money I'm spending to insure the car I'm not driving is just getting flushed, and I can ill afford that.

So, I thought - what if I sell the damned thing and get a Vespa?

It'll be cheaper than getting the car up to code in any real way, infinitely cheaper than buying even a used car, the fun of driving it would maybe make me hate commuting less and it will expand the area of my job search beyond those places accessible on the train.

So I made a list:

1) get health insurance (I'm eligible the first of next month)
2) Get new glasses prescription
3) Rent a scooter to take a class and make sure I have the ability/nerve for this
4) Get licensed to drive a scooter
5) Put a battery in the car to make it salable; sell it
6) Use proceeds to buy the Vespa
7) Be the chick in Ratatouille

And then I found out that even *used* Vespas go for $3-$5K?!?!?!?!

This is going to take a lot longer than I thought. Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT.

Spent the day with Sara which is always a balm. Also spent the day with two of her good friends and you know what? My daughter has surrounded herself with some genuinely splendid people. It really renews and boosts my pride in her. It's gratifying to be reminded that I'm not the only one who knows how awesome she is. Like attracts like and Sara's friends are brainy and thoughtful and funny and kind. Like her. I win.

OMG, I went through some boxes in my parent's garage yesterday - they're getting it sprayed for termites, so as much as possible Had to Go.

I found a box of baby memorabilia and Sara asked if she could have it. I should have thought to vet the contents first, but I was in No Mood for memory lane, so I just gave it to her.

She IM'ed me later in the evening to say she'd found the envelope containing her umbilical cord and thanks very much for the gross-out, mom, I don't think so.

Heeeheeeheeee.

Poor rabbit.

Heeeheeeheee.

I need black or nude fishnets - the wide weaved ones - and I need them by Saturday night. The *only* possible time I have to shop will be Saturday before noon. I don't really want to go into Hollywood, but I will if I have to. L.A. area recommendations?

(p.s. I cannot *believe* that this knowledge fell out of my current skill-set. Who *am* I?)

Today was entirely useless. I slept till noon, fed like, seven people at a totally somnolent restaurant (fucking Lakers) and now, instead of studying Hebrew like I'd planned, or at the very least catching up on Hell's Kitchen, I'm googling antique stoves.

I know you hard core geeks have probably already seen it, but I want to go see the NEW! STAR! TREK! MOVIE! on Tuesday. It's my next day off. I don't care where and I don't care what time, I just want some company. Oh, and I guess I should figure out where I can see it in IMAX.

Lemme know if you're interested and available. I'm sure this will turn into a dinner and drinks thing, as well, once a guest list is sorted out.

This is a tricky subject. I love my fella and I think he's entirely swell just as he is.

That said, he doesn't give the world's tiniest damn about clothes. That's largely okay. He'll mention it even, sometimes, when we're going out and our formality levels differ, and nine 1/2 times out of ten my entirely truthful answer is, "no baby, I'm dressing up because it makes me happy, you do what you like".

But sometimes, we go someplace out in the real world where neither his usual, "I'm a carpenter!" nor his, "I possess one really nice suit!" modes will work and I think it might make him uncomfortable.

Or maybe I feel uncomfortable and am projecting it on him. I hope not. Let's assume it's the former for the sake of argument.

I just offered to take him shopping tomorrow for one outfit he could wear at those moments when making an effort is desirable, but wearing a suit is too much. He could afford to do it himself if he wanted to, but I'm more than happy to fund this particular venture, because it matters more to me than it does to him.

He's resisting a tiny bit, and I'm not sure whether that's because he doesn't want me to spend my money, or because I'm being an asshole and he thinks I'm criticizing his look or (more simply) because he simply doesn't want to run errands tomorrow. He is, for the record, very errand resistant.

So down to the real question - how would you feel if someone made this offer to you? Am I insulting him? I don't mean to.

Quotes from my house just now:

"Baby, you probably wanna search on '*therapeutic* massage', if you wanna exclude the prostitutes."

"No! Not Craigslist"!

"I'm thinking 'bodywork' means something else in this context."

"What's a table shower?" "I dunno, but it sounds nefarious".

Heee. This is what happens when you talk your engineer-minded boyfriend into researching day spa options on the internet.

Hi, everybody. Looks like we're gonna try to do the LA Zoo tomorrow. Drop me a line or give me a shout if you're into it.

HAHAHAHAHA. We're up late and Jeff got hungry and is eating matzoh and peanut butter and honey and *whining*. There's nothing else in the house to eat and given the whole "I just spent eight days like this" thing, I should be feeling compassion, but I'm just not that good a human being.

Heeheeehee. Hahahahah. Hohohoho. Better you than me, babe, better you than me.

I wrote this for another forum that has a thread called, "fuck" where you get to vent. For me, the usual result of venting my frustrations is getting even more aggravated at myself for wallowing in it, but this one felt so good, I'm recording it here for posterity.

Shield your ears if you're not a fan of profanity.

____________

Fuck fuck fuck

I have been up since the fucking asscrack of dawn and have accomplished fucking nothing except re-doing fucking shit I didn't want to fucking do in the first fucking place.

Dishwasher's not fucking working, space heater's not fucking working, there's no fucking water pressure, the fucking cat and the fucking rabbit are both driving me fucking nuts, my fucking roommate's in the fucking shower and now I am not fucking going to be able to get out of here in time to visit the fucking farmer's market before fucking work.

We're fucking going to be out of hot fucking water by the time I get my fucking turn in the fucking bathroom. I haven't fucking eaten yet and there's fucking nothing here to eat because I was *going* to fucking eat at the fucking farmer's market.

Now I'll fucking have to eat egg fucking salad and fucking matzoh *again* and if I don't fucking die of that, I will surely fucking puke.

Furthermore, I have unaccountably spent the entire fucking morning on the brink of fucking tears for no fucking reason whatso-fucking-ever.

Fuck, that felt good.

Jeff just got a really expensive haircut and is now completely clean shaven. The stylist also recommended that he get a wee tiny bit of a wax job between his brows, which wouldn't have occurred to me in a gazillion years. She was totally delighted when he went for it. He must be a dream client for a stylist because he was all, ah, do whatever you want, just make me look good.

He is staggeringly beautiful. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's always been a good looking fella, but this is, like, celebrity level grooming. His eyes are enormous and he has a cleft chin. I am *swooning*.

This is the third major change in his look he's undergone since we've been a couple and he.just.keeps.getting.better.looking.

You think I'm in love?

My seder was yesterday and it was made of win. About 30 guests and my mom and dad even stopped by earlier in the day. The hive of activity around here that preceded it was epic - Jeff was sweeping the floor and TJ was setting up tables, Beth was out fetching lunch for the crew, Kindrick was making matzoh ball soup, Melissa was making fish cakes, Dave was working on the chicken, Pepper was stapling haggadot and I was brewing tea and doing the knife work for the garbanzo stew. The radio was on and everyone was either dancing or singing along and I honestly cannot remember the last time I was so happy. Once the service started, Melissa and Dave took over entirely - supplying the buffet, cooking the spinach at the very last minute so it would be perfect, making the blackberry/vanilla sauce when it was time for dessert. I actually got to host my own party and I never thought I'd live to see the day.

So wonderful, so very grateful and happy.

OK. So. If unreliable boss type person is to be believed, I'm going to start to get Friday nights off, starting a week from this Friday night.

This means

1) I get to go back to temple.
2) I get to start observing Shabbat in a way that is deeply meaningful to me.

I don't necessarily expect everyone here to understand or sympathize with my own personal organized religious stuff, but I would be grateful if you could find happiness in my happiness, and believe me when I tell you that this is an extraordinarily good thing for me.

The Ninth Annual Anita Bergmann Pseudo Seder (Really Good Food, Really
Bad Judaism)- is on.

Sunday, April 12, 2009
The Boneless Ranch
787 East Washington Boulevard, Apartment 2
Pasadena CA 91104
310 422 1704

Anyone who wishes to help in the kitchen, please get in touch and
we'll make those arrangements off line.

For those of you who wish to read the Haggadah and do the four glasses
of wine and the dipping and the singing and the Elijah cup and the
afikomen hunt; please arrive by 6PM.

Those of you who are here for dinner and the company of loved ones but
aren't participating in the ritual*, please join us at 8PM, when the
buffet will open.

WHAT CAN YOU BRING?

Wine
Ice
Disposable plates, cups, silverware and glasses
Your beautiful, shining faces

PLEASE RSVP NO LATER THAN THURSDAY, APRIL 9, 2009

When you RSVP, please let me know whether you're kitchen crew, Jew who
wants to do the ritual, or merely a heathen dinner guest*. This is
incredibly important to me in planning so I can do things like copy
haggadot, borrow chairs, buy correct quantities of matzoh, etc. etc.
etc.

Tell your friends, then tell me. If you know and love them, I do, too.

*I love you.

We're going to have to set up an interview and a home visit to be approved by the adoption agency. Startled into laughter at the ridiculousness, while secretly, ruefully appreciative of their methods.

In other news, my boss quit and they're re-writing the schedule, so I've asked for Friday nights off so I can do Shabbat. I haven't been able to do that in any real way nor have I been able to get to temple more than once since I got this job. Do not like. I'll find out in two weeks whether they're able to accommodate. It would be a big fat pair of golden handcuffs, but I think I would be okay with that, until such time I open the kosher catering kitchen of my dreams, or develop my skills to the point where I can dictate my terms elsewhere.