Monday, November 30, 2009

Life: Rock Down To Electric Avenue

The first task I was asked to do in the systematic stripping of my old but not as old as my childhood residency of my once childhood bedroom was remove the cage I'd come to refer to as my 'bedroom'. The cage had been left over from the not-so-glory days of cat breeding when a certain brown male - who shall not be named for his own safety - had to be separated. He had to be separated because he peed a lot. Yes, it was a mighty existence.



Anyway, I was lazy and the cage was already in there so... it only seemed natural to build the bed inside much like it were a ship and the cage were, perhaps, a bottle. With slightly more wiggle room. Just slightly.

I liked the effect it had on the room, giving the illusion that somehow my apartments had more class than just being a basement bedroom. I did not, however, like the large black boxes it put in front of my TV screen when I wanted to watch late night movies. It was a trade-off. And now it had to go.



I laboriously undid and removed the entire thing, discovering mid-process that I hadn't quite cleaned it on all sides as well as I'd originally thought, and ended up feeling rather good about its leaving after all. This also affected by how I was getting paid for doing it.

The second task - which I skillfully held off till the last second as is my usual record - was packing. This became difficult because I had to sort through a lot of my useless shit and because I had to pick which of my movies I didn't want to watch for six months. This is a pain because there's not really any way you can positively know which movies you will or will not feel like watching. In the end, I grabbed a couple of favorites and a couple of ones I'd never seen and left it at that.

Then someone else decided she had to oversee these processes. As per usual, my luxurious silver cat hefted herself onto my bed and laid right across the 'coming with me' pile as if she knew I was getting ready to take off. She later transferred herself to the very Bunny-sized luggage I'd put out to start packing my clothes into.



This made things harder because 1) she was lying on my suitcase and 2) she was not, in fact, coming with me. I let her sit wherever she wanted, though, because it would be our last chance for a while.

If anyone ever had a doubt, though, mark it now - you really can fit all your clothes into one over-sized suitcase. I actually got to a point where nothing was in my carry-on but I couldn't think of what to bring. I packed a few extra movies, in the end, but it was like... ummm. I dunno. I didn't want to take a bunch of extra just for giggles... it would just end up sitting around...

But I got all packed and we went to the airport and stuff. That's boring. Nobody wants to hear about that. Hey! How about we jump right to California.



Mainly what my parents were doing here with me was buying me a car, making sure I knew the area, harassing me too much about finding a job, freaking out about every little detail, getting all up in my shit, using my computer too much because they were too lazy to plug their own into the hotel wired internet, and being loving nice people who paid for everything.

Oh. And seeing my sister who goes to school here.

As per more usual, she wanted to go to Santa Monica. We go there, like, every time. I took some pictures for... I don't know. Cause it feels like that's what you should do there.

Honestly, I don't know what else to do at a beach. I'm not a huge fan of sand. Or sitting in the sun without moving. Or salt water. Or other people who do enjoy those things.



Know what is cool, though? Colorful birds that don't fly away. There we go.

We walked a bunch, too, just to end up at a restaurant that was closed. My sister's a big fan of checking the star ratings of restaurants before she goes to them. I just walk in. Or don't. Depending on how I feel. So, I was a bit peeved at having gone blocks to a closed place when we'd passed a whole bunch but walking also makes me peevy, so, it was sort of an unfair weight against my family at that point.

I hope to do more walking here, though. I dunno. Now I own a car, so. We'll see.



Look, folks! Santa Monta! ... yaay.

Whatever.

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