jaysaint Getting it all down on paper…

We spent the night in our new aparment for the first time. That was after a two-hour closing that went, according to my lawyer, as smoothly as could be wished. I did what I was told, which I think helped. I had done enough reading ahead of time, so I wasn’t surprised by anything. There are lots of fees and they nick you for $500 here and $500 there. But that’s the way that goes, and you just suck it up if you want to buy.

So here we are with lots of work to do, and lots more money needing to be spent. I’m hoping we can get the living room painted this weekend. A nice green, I think.

Damon is out exploring the neighborhood and I’m holed up inside enjoying a brief bit of alone time. Everything has been positive, but I still have to have that time to myself. I get very surly when I don’t. Maybe I should rethink my desire to have kids.

But soon I’ll join Damon. And soon after that we’ll join my cousins, who are in for the weekend. Thank God they’re not staying with us. I love them, and hope they do next time. But right now finding a cup or a bar of soap is a production, so I’m glad we’re not looking after guests.

Like the grown up woman I am, I’m hiding behind the couch, on the floor, crouching over my laptop while the movers do their thing. They did all the packing for us, for which I am eternally grateful.
But it’s hard for me to reconcile the fact that five strange men are packing up my underthings while I sit in the other room. At least I did get in there and pack the most, shall way say, private of my stuff. The guys have been really nice and I’m enjoying listening to their packing trash talk. “Fool! You know you can’t pack a box!” reply: “Fool! You know I done packed four (pronounced ‘fo’) boxes while you only packed two!” So how could I not love these guys? I just bought them a ton of pizza, so maybe they love me too.

But it doesn’t change the fact that they’re strangers, and I get hugely uncomfortable around strangers. At least when I don’t have a role to play. For example, I’m not uncomfortable around my dentist. But we both have very clearly defined roles. This, not so much. I’m actually better than I was. When I was a teenager I wouldn’t order pizza because I didn’t want to talk to a stranger on the phone. It drove my Mom crazy. I still won’t answer the phone. I always think “I have no idea who that is. I’m not picking it up.” All gratitude to my cell phone for the Caller ID.

But they’re very close to being finished, so I should be free and clear shortly. Then I can sit on my floor without the strangers! Our next few days are still a total mystery. I don’t have a closing date. I don’t know where/what the temporary housing situation will be. I just called the relo folks a few hours ago and said: I will need somewhere to live starting tomorrow. So could you let me know where that will be? I don’t have any clue how long I’ll need to be there. And wherever I go has to take my cat.

So I’m waiting to hear back.

It may be that I missed the cultural moment in which this movie was special and significant. I just watched ‘Blue Velvet’ for the first time and found it… irritating. And not in that way that irritating can be good. It felt like it offered a combination of torturous emotion and insignificance. Oh, and I HATE Dennis Hopper. I HATE everything he does. He’s predictable and ridiculous.

I would love to be one of those weirdos who lives in a hotel. Life is so much easier when I’m here. And I’ve found ‘China Xpress’ which has fantastic steamed shrimp dumplings and will deliver it to me in the lobby or my room. So what on earth else could I ask for?

I wish I weren’t so sleepy tonight. I got up at 5:30 and I’m feeling it. I wanted to call John and see if he wanted to grab dinner, but I was just too tired. I keep watching the True Hollywood Story of The Exorcist over and over because I don’t feel like trying to find something else.

That William Friedkin is not a good guy. Artists who think talent justifies their bad behavoir are just boring cliches.

We were laughing at work today because the names on our team are so great.

Jody Jones
Romy Pokorny
Jillian St. Charles

And tomorrow we’re interviewing someone named Charity Curley to round us out. How great would that be? Romy and Jody will be one team, and Charity (if she works out) and I will be the other. We sound like ‘The Facts of Life: The Next Generation.’ I hope I’m Jo.

After watching me log in to this site about a zillion times, Damon says to me tonight: Do you have an online journal?

I think he thought I was just lurking, which wouldn’t be a bad guess.

Actually, one of the great things about Damon is that he doesn’t stick his nose into everything I do. I don’t do anything I’d be specifically concerned that he didn’t know about, but I don’t enjoy tons of scrutiny. I know I have some goofy quirks. It doesn’t mean I want to explain them, or even hear how adorable they are.

Anyway, once I assured him that I don’t write bad things about him he seemed to lose interest. That may or may not stick. Either way is okay.