Well. Here I am. Same place, no car. Sold the Jag. Paid July and August rent. Can barely think in complete sentences.
Being carless in Los Angeles is almost a misdemeanor. I feel like I've been caught doing something shady and my punishment is public transportation. Although, I have to say that I can get just about anywhere via bus, and, thanks to my trusty Samsung phone, I can at least be productive while I ride.
Mark's coming over tonight for mojitos and mosaic crafting. Who would have thought he'd become my new bestie? We've both discovered that we're crafty - thank you Pinterest! We love you Youtube! So far we've tried flowers made of diet Coke cans, flowers made of coffee filters, and flowers made of melted plastic spoons. Mosaic flowers are now on deck...and if I could figure out how to embed the pinterest photo here, I would. Go to my Pinterest board 'Craft Ideas' at 'Alexis Wiseman' to see our current inspiration.
Got another temporary, part-time job...uh...yippee? Actually, it pays ten bucks an hour and - best part - it's walking distance! Mark has a friend who owns apartment buildings and he needs someone to organize his office. He had brain tumor surgery about three months ago and the office is totally messed up. Anyhow, I'm helping him whip the place back into shape...slowly, very, very s-l-o-w-l-y.
I'm not sure why, but I've developed a taste for curry lately. Here's my latest quickie meal -
Curry Rice and Vegetables
Follow the directions on a package of instant rice (use two servings - one barely takes the edge off) with the following modifications:
- add an extra quarter-cup of water, 1/2 tsp curry powder, 1/2 tsp turmeric, dash black pepper and bring to a boil. Add 1/2 cup frozen vegetables (I like Northern-style Chinese) and boil for 2 minutes.
- Add instant rice and 1 tsp coconut oil to the vegetables. Remove from heat, cover and let stand 5 minutes. Fluff an serve.
Friday, July 26, 2013
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Thanks, Chair
Okay, here's one to file away under 'unexpected last minute reprieves'...so, my apartment manager finally caught me at home. I've only actually spoken to her once, when I rented the place. She's a trip. She looks a little like Mrs. Roper from that old tv show, 'Three's Company" only shorter and wider, sort of like a bowling ball in a polyester caftan. She knocks, and I know she knows I'm home, so I figure I might as well face the music and I let her in.
"Well, dear, you're in quite a pickle." She told me I was in a 'pickle'. Who even says stuff like that anymore? Anyhow, I invited her to sit and figured that I should calmly explain my financial situation. As I launched into it she noticed my 'shabby chic' French chair, the one I painted with shoe polish and nail lacquer.
After giving me a long winded description of her new, all-white decorating scheme, she asks where I got the chair - apparently she never noticed me painting it out on the lawn, dripping white shoe polish all over the fescue. I almost told her that I'd made it myself, but for some reason that I'm still unclear about I said that it came from an exclusive shop off Melrose. I don't know why, I just opened my mouth and the lie fell out. She looked at me askance, as if to ask why I'd spent my rent money on overpriced furniture. I just went with it at that point, "Oh no, I didn't buy it! It was one of the only things I took from the house when my husband and I split. He didn't know, but it was done by a really famous European designer. It's only going to appreciate in value..." Her eye got this acquisitive gleam in it and I realized that I might be able to parlay that gleam into something useful.
By the time she left, with my lovely chair tucked beneath her pudgy little arm, she'd agreed to drag her feet on my rent predicament and gave me until the 24th to get the rent before she files the eviction papers.
So, thanks, Chair, for inspiring a useful lie and buying me some time. Maybe I should be a writer...or a con-man...woman...whatever...
"Well, dear, you're in quite a pickle." She told me I was in a 'pickle'. Who even says stuff like that anymore? Anyhow, I invited her to sit and figured that I should calmly explain my financial situation. As I launched into it she noticed my 'shabby chic' French chair, the one I painted with shoe polish and nail lacquer.
After giving me a long winded description of her new, all-white decorating scheme, she asks where I got the chair - apparently she never noticed me painting it out on the lawn, dripping white shoe polish all over the fescue. I almost told her that I'd made it myself, but for some reason that I'm still unclear about I said that it came from an exclusive shop off Melrose. I don't know why, I just opened my mouth and the lie fell out. She looked at me askance, as if to ask why I'd spent my rent money on overpriced furniture. I just went with it at that point, "Oh no, I didn't buy it! It was one of the only things I took from the house when my husband and I split. He didn't know, but it was done by a really famous European designer. It's only going to appreciate in value..." Her eye got this acquisitive gleam in it and I realized that I might be able to parlay that gleam into something useful.
By the time she left, with my lovely chair tucked beneath her pudgy little arm, she'd agreed to drag her feet on my rent predicament and gave me until the 24th to get the rent before she files the eviction papers.
So, thanks, Chair, for inspiring a useful lie and buying me some time. Maybe I should be a writer...or a con-man...woman...whatever...
Friday, July 5, 2013
Oh Crap
...3-day pay-or-quit...3-day pay-or-quit...oh, crap...oh, crap...oh, crappity-crap-crap!
When I first moved to this apartment I was a little, um, how shall I say...critical...of it. I loved my old house - actually Barney's house, apparently - in the hills and this place was a disappointment, even with its proximity to the water. But lately I've begun to appreciate it. The rent is relatively cheap for the location but not, unfortunately, cheap enough for me to afford it on my alimony alone. Which segues me into the tangential topic (I've been adding a word-a-day to my vocabulary then using them in conversation. 'segue' is today's word.) of my currently unemployment.
What is up with this!? For the past couple of days I've been trolling boutiques, following Craig's List hits, looking for someone who might need sales help. Here's what I've learned: 1) there must be some secret society of boutique workers, like a gang or something, and only people who throw up the right sign or know the handshake or whatever even get to interview, and 2) it helps if you're a gay male with way too much style for one individual.
I sent Mark out to a bunch of places I found that I know for a fact are hiring. I suggested he wear the blue wig. I figured that if he got a job then he could give me a leg up. Problem is, it could be a loooong time before anything comes up so I'll probably be pushing a shopping cart loaded with black plastic garbage bags and aluminum cans or (much worse) back in Fresno living with my mother before I can get a job and save this apartment.
Maybe I should sell the Jag.
When I first moved to this apartment I was a little, um, how shall I say...critical...of it. I loved my old house - actually Barney's house, apparently - in the hills and this place was a disappointment, even with its proximity to the water. But lately I've begun to appreciate it. The rent is relatively cheap for the location but not, unfortunately, cheap enough for me to afford it on my alimony alone. Which segues me into the tangential topic (I've been adding a word-a-day to my vocabulary then using them in conversation. 'segue' is today's word.) of my currently unemployment.
What is up with this!? For the past couple of days I've been trolling boutiques, following Craig's List hits, looking for someone who might need sales help. Here's what I've learned: 1) there must be some secret society of boutique workers, like a gang or something, and only people who throw up the right sign or know the handshake or whatever even get to interview, and 2) it helps if you're a gay male with way too much style for one individual.
I sent Mark out to a bunch of places I found that I know for a fact are hiring. I suggested he wear the blue wig. I figured that if he got a job then he could give me a leg up. Problem is, it could be a loooong time before anything comes up so I'll probably be pushing a shopping cart loaded with black plastic garbage bags and aluminum cans or (much worse) back in Fresno living with my mother before I can get a job and save this apartment.
Maybe I should sell the Jag.
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Things on Facebook That Make You Go...WTF?!
Conversation on Facebook:
Girl # 1
"Some Of The Statuses I See On Facebook I Swear How You Gone Say As Long As Im His Main Forget The Side Chicks?Noooooooo You Sound STUPID Like I Can Argue About This For Days..If If He Need Side Chicks Istead Of Stickin With You And Your Ok With That Then First Off Your Not You Probably Not Doin What You Should Be And You Must Know That If You Coo With His Game Or He Just Mo Goog Like I Cant Figg Smh Words Can't Even Explain..What's Your Opinion??Comment"
Girl #2
"When ur a dime you don't fuck with pennies and loose change and if that guy does..let him struggle lookin for penny hoes..and u find a guy who knows ur worth..but first you gotta know ur worth..cuz if you don't you'll get lost In the mix..be just as dirty.lol
That's my opinion tho."
Girl #1
"Lol Thankyou"
Girl #2
"Your welcome!"
And then...
Girl #3
"I'm not entirely sure exactly what you ladies said but I can tell, in principle, that you're precisely on-target with your analysis of the side-chick/penny-ho question. Indeed, if he needs side chicks and you're cool with that then, obviously, you're suffering from low-self esteem, which is frequently accompanied by self-destructive behavior. Your friend offers sage advice. Always consider yourself the dime in a relationship with pennies. You are bright and shiny, coated with silver and worth at least ten of the dirty-penny man who is treating you with disrespect by associating, presumably sexually, with dirty-penny women. So, metaphorically speaking, keep your purse-size mirror always at hand and gaze into it frequently while repeating this mantra: "I am a shiny dime, not a dirty penny!" This constant self-assurance will help you stay strong and keep from getting lost in the mix when the next dirty-penny man attempts to seduce you with his mo goog game. In other words, I concur!"
I shit you not.
Girl # 1
"Some Of The Statuses I See On Facebook I Swear How You Gone Say As Long As Im His Main Forget The Side Chicks?Noooooooo You Sound STUPID Like I Can Argue About This For Days..If If He Need Side Chicks Istead Of Stickin With You And Your Ok With That Then First Off Your Not You Probably Not Doin What You Should Be And You Must Know That If You Coo With His Game Or He Just Mo Goog Like I Cant Figg Smh Words Can't Even Explain..What's Your Opinion??Comment"
Girl #2
"When ur a dime you don't fuck with pennies and loose change and if that guy does..let him struggle lookin for penny hoes..and u find a guy who knows ur worth..but first you gotta know ur worth..cuz if you don't you'll get lost In the mix..be just as dirty.lol
That's my opinion tho."
Girl #1
"Lol Thankyou"
Girl #2
"Your welcome!"
And then...
Girl #3
"I'm not entirely sure exactly what you ladies said but I can tell, in principle, that you're precisely on-target with your analysis of the side-chick/penny-ho question. Indeed, if he needs side chicks and you're cool with that then, obviously, you're suffering from low-self esteem, which is frequently accompanied by self-destructive behavior. Your friend offers sage advice. Always consider yourself the dime in a relationship with pennies. You are bright and shiny, coated with silver and worth at least ten of the dirty-penny man who is treating you with disrespect by associating, presumably sexually, with dirty-penny women. So, metaphorically speaking, keep your purse-size mirror always at hand and gaze into it frequently while repeating this mantra: "I am a shiny dime, not a dirty penny!" This constant self-assurance will help you stay strong and keep from getting lost in the mix when the next dirty-penny man attempts to seduce you with his mo goog game. In other words, I concur!"
I shit you not.
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