Whenever Annie gets sick, she seriously has the oddest medical problems I've ever seen. Like her butt exploding. Well, this time it's a hole in the roof of her mouth. Apparently she had a cavity (which the vet told my grandmother about, and not to worry about it. FURIOUS) that festered then got infected, causing an absess which both me and my grandma assumed was a swollen sinus gland, seeing as she's a hound dog. As I well know, when there's an infection, your body will do anything it can to push it out. So, it started pushing it out. Through the top of her mouth. I cannot even imagine how painful that must be for her. Poor, poor baby.
But, the good news is it'll probably clear up with anti biotics. And if not, surgery's an option (and one that my grandma can afford). Mostly, I think my grandma's just frustrated with Annie, which I, of all people, certainly understand. But, I'd never think and never thought about giving her up because of it. My grandma's got a big heart. Let's just hope it's the high stress from the move.
3.12.2008
3.11.2008
4:30 is the new 5:00
I can't blog about my job, but here's some basics you all need to know.
1. A woman calls me every morning named Rhonda Neilson and she says she's the President of the United States of America. She says she would like us to buy some land.
2. I'm right across the street from a cupcake store. So whenever I'm having a terrible day, I can just go get a cupcake.
3. Everyone I work with is fantastically nice and helpful.
4. There's cable TV in my office. ANTM!
5. Piercings. Gone. I'm trying really REALLY hard to not get emotional about it, letting myself indulge in the luxuries I never got before, like lip gloss, but it's still kind of hard. Nape is still in, because it's discreet when you have long hair, as is septum. I think I'll go visit Noah for some creative jewelry options for it. Make me feel better.
6.With that said, I must be a fancy-pants now. Literally. I've never had a job where dressing up was required. Once again, trying to find the perks like tax write-offs and such.
7. I almost started crying when I saw the health insurance I'm going to have. And how cheap it will be.
8. Your tax dollars pay for my salary. Congrats!
9. I wish I had a window.
10. All in all, it's not too bad.
Other than starting new job, moving into new apartment is going well. My desk got in last night, which was fantastic. It faces my window, and I have a big, fantastic tree to look at. It's going slowly, bit by bit, but it's much nicer than having the stress I had with my last move.
I feel like the shock of the fire is over and I've moved into grief. It's not a depression as much as it is a feeling of loss. I'm not overcome with any kind of sadness, but it feels like there's just something huge missing from my life.
I really must stop reading rocksquawk. All it does is make me so furious my face turns red. Yesterday turned into Hate On Kathy Day. People were saying the most disturbing things. Appartently, in their brains, she was sitting around with lighter fluid and bottle of linseed oil, just waiting to ruin Joe Anderson's life. Not quite true, guys. I guess they missed the part about the fire being accidental. And the part about how we've treated our floors with linseed oil before and this never happened. And the part about how ATF had only heard of this kind of thing happening. One of them said that if Kathy wanted help from the community, she would have to be part of it. Well, that's somewhat true. She was never part of their community. I know why people don't like her. Trust me, I completely get it. And she does some things sometimes that I don't agree with at all. But, she is far from a failure or a community-ruiner.
I certainly found a community because of her.
And not only that, say what you want about the bar. We never gave a damn about our reputation. BUT YOU FLAMERS LEAVE THE "JANITOR" ALONE. Once again, did ya get the memo the fire was accidental? You have no idea what "the janitor" is going through. He did exactly what he thought he should have been doing. I called 5 different hardware/floor stores and no one could give me an answer about the application of linseed oil. No one. Spontaneous combustion is more urban legend than anything else. He even washed out the rags. Repeatedly. The water actually made it harder for the oil to break down. This wasn't just carelessly leaving rags lying around. He doesn't need your judgments.
The point is, it's bad enough what happened. You don't need to bash on the situation on an internet message board. I'm not asking for you to pretend you loved it, that you went there every weekend. Just have a little heart. As far as I'm concerned, that building was the best thing in the world. For several reasons. But, right now, because it held in that two alarm fire. Without much trouble. It could have destroyed the whole block. But it didn't. And for that reason, people should love her.
The other point is I'll never post that on rocksquawk. Mostly because it's not even worth it, but a tiny part of myself is terrified of internet warfare, as previously mentioned.
When it rains... Annie has to go to the vet tomorrow. I'm very much getting the feeling that my grandma's giving up on her. Her health is getting worse, but I'd call it more inconvenient than anything. I think Grandma's leaning for putting her down (something that makes me cry just to type) and of course, I want to fight for her. But, I don't know how much say I have in the matter since she's really not my dog anymore. I can't keep her, and I don't know a single person who would want such a high maintenance creature. Like I said, not looking forward to that discussion tomorrow.
Trying really, really hard to be positive about all of it. Trying even harder to find constants in all this change. But, both seem impossibly hard sometimes.
1. A woman calls me every morning named Rhonda Neilson and she says she's the President of the United States of America. She says she would like us to buy some land.
2. I'm right across the street from a cupcake store. So whenever I'm having a terrible day, I can just go get a cupcake.
3. Everyone I work with is fantastically nice and helpful.
4. There's cable TV in my office. ANTM!
5. Piercings. Gone. I'm trying really REALLY hard to not get emotional about it, letting myself indulge in the luxuries I never got before, like lip gloss, but it's still kind of hard. Nape is still in, because it's discreet when you have long hair, as is septum. I think I'll go visit Noah for some creative jewelry options for it. Make me feel better.
6.With that said, I must be a fancy-pants now. Literally. I've never had a job where dressing up was required. Once again, trying to find the perks like tax write-offs and such.
7. I almost started crying when I saw the health insurance I'm going to have. And how cheap it will be.
8. Your tax dollars pay for my salary. Congrats!
9. I wish I had a window.
10. All in all, it's not too bad.
Other than starting new job, moving into new apartment is going well. My desk got in last night, which was fantastic. It faces my window, and I have a big, fantastic tree to look at. It's going slowly, bit by bit, but it's much nicer than having the stress I had with my last move.
I feel like the shock of the fire is over and I've moved into grief. It's not a depression as much as it is a feeling of loss. I'm not overcome with any kind of sadness, but it feels like there's just something huge missing from my life.
I really must stop reading rocksquawk. All it does is make me so furious my face turns red. Yesterday turned into Hate On Kathy Day. People were saying the most disturbing things. Appartently, in their brains, she was sitting around with lighter fluid and bottle of linseed oil, just waiting to ruin Joe Anderson's life. Not quite true, guys. I guess they missed the part about the fire being accidental. And the part about how we've treated our floors with linseed oil before and this never happened. And the part about how ATF had only heard of this kind of thing happening. One of them said that if Kathy wanted help from the community, she would have to be part of it. Well, that's somewhat true. She was never part of their community. I know why people don't like her. Trust me, I completely get it. And she does some things sometimes that I don't agree with at all. But, she is far from a failure or a community-ruiner.
I certainly found a community because of her.
And not only that, say what you want about the bar. We never gave a damn about our reputation. BUT YOU FLAMERS LEAVE THE "JANITOR" ALONE. Once again, did ya get the memo the fire was accidental? You have no idea what "the janitor" is going through. He did exactly what he thought he should have been doing. I called 5 different hardware/floor stores and no one could give me an answer about the application of linseed oil. No one. Spontaneous combustion is more urban legend than anything else. He even washed out the rags. Repeatedly. The water actually made it harder for the oil to break down. This wasn't just carelessly leaving rags lying around. He doesn't need your judgments.
The point is, it's bad enough what happened. You don't need to bash on the situation on an internet message board. I'm not asking for you to pretend you loved it, that you went there every weekend. Just have a little heart. As far as I'm concerned, that building was the best thing in the world. For several reasons. But, right now, because it held in that two alarm fire. Without much trouble. It could have destroyed the whole block. But it didn't. And for that reason, people should love her.
The other point is I'll never post that on rocksquawk. Mostly because it's not even worth it, but a tiny part of myself is terrified of internet warfare, as previously mentioned.
When it rains... Annie has to go to the vet tomorrow. I'm very much getting the feeling that my grandma's giving up on her. Her health is getting worse, but I'd call it more inconvenient than anything. I think Grandma's leaning for putting her down (something that makes me cry just to type) and of course, I want to fight for her. But, I don't know how much say I have in the matter since she's really not my dog anymore. I can't keep her, and I don't know a single person who would want such a high maintenance creature. Like I said, not looking forward to that discussion tomorrow.
Trying really, really hard to be positive about all of it. Trying even harder to find constants in all this change. But, both seem impossibly hard sometimes.
3.07.2008
One, two.
Okay so, maybe I'm a little over emotional lately, but when I saw this today I just started bawling. Sobbing. Hysterically. With only Kathy's cat to witness it.
3.06.2008
I want you to dress like this.
A conversation.
Cat: "Excuse me, what are you doing?"
Random carpet cleaner man trying to profiteer on disaster walking into the El Rey: "Oh yeah. I'm with a carpet cleaner. Steam cleaner. I have an appointment."
Cat: "No you don't."
RCCMTTPODWITER: "Yeah I do. I have an apointment. With Christine."
Cat: "No you don't."
RCCMTTPODWITER: "I have a licease- an appointment."
Cat: "No. You don't. Try the Launchpad."
RCCMTTPODWITER: "Oh. Yeah. Maybe I'll try that."
RCCMTTPODWITER didn't have an appointment with the Launchpad either.
Cat: "Excuse me, what are you doing?"
Random carpet cleaner man trying to profiteer on disaster walking into the El Rey: "Oh yeah. I'm with a carpet cleaner. Steam cleaner. I have an appointment."
Cat: "No you don't."
RCCMTTPODWITER: "Yeah I do. I have an apointment. With Christine."
Cat: "No you don't."
RCCMTTPODWITER: "I have a licease- an appointment."
Cat: "No. You don't. Try the Launchpad."
RCCMTTPODWITER: "Oh. Yeah. Maybe I'll try that."
RCCMTTPODWITER didn't have an appointment with the Launchpad either.
3.05.2008
Smile like you've got nothing to prove.
Yes. I am wearing shorts.
Detroit Red Wings ones, even. But what makes this picture even better than the mirror closet doors it contains is that it's the first picture of MY NEW ROOM. That's right, my days of living out of a duffel bag are over. At least for the time being. And not a minute too soon. After ten months, having a closet, especially one with mirror doors rules pretty hard. I moved my mattress in today, along with some basics, mostly books and clothes. The rest will come after the weekend when Maria's old roomie gets her bed n stuff out of the room. I was just a tad eager to get in here, as you can see.
But having my own space again was exactly what needed to happen today. It was frustrating, as moving always is, but the sweet release I'm having right now, of blogging on MY internet connection on MY bed in MY room, is just too fantastic. There's a few ounces off the weight on my back. So worth skipping the Murphys for.
I think today was just the day the first real, brutal emotional waves set in. I've felt myself pulling inward, not returning phone calls, just wanting to be alone. But today I think the weepy stage of grieving set in. Of course, triggered by a terrible day at the "office". It's become hard to leave work at work, but I am trying.
While work drains my soul, I get to visit this little lady every day. Kathy has a ocicat, also known as a very expensive kitty with fancy coloring. But, Pookie is dang precious and she's taken quite a liking to me. Why must my boyfriend be allergic to kitties?
3.04.2008
I look like trouble.
Inhale, exhale. I swear there's still smoke in my lungs. Life just feels like this giant haze.
I got a job offer that I can't blog about. Which means I'll probably hate it.
Fact is, I just can't handle any more change right now. I'm also supposed to be moving into Maria's this week. It's just a lot. The thought of removing the rest of my piercings (corporate proofing) makes me cry. It's always the little things.
I'm right in the thick of it now. Kathy can't stop moving, her brain's just gone.
I'd give just about anything to be back at my grandpa's right now.
I got a job offer that I can't blog about. Which means I'll probably hate it.
Fact is, I just can't handle any more change right now. I'm also supposed to be moving into Maria's this week. It's just a lot. The thought of removing the rest of my piercings (corporate proofing) makes me cry. It's always the little things.
I'm right in the thick of it now. Kathy can't stop moving, her brain's just gone.
I'd give just about anything to be back at my grandpa's right now.
3.03.2008
Something constant under my feet.
Ready for the good?
My kitty made an almost full recovery. $500 and 4 days later, they let him come home. He'll have to be on special kidney food for the rest of his life, but thankfully he likes it. He's energized, he's happy, and it warms my heart to see him running and playing.
Ready for the bad?
Before I left for my trip, I tagged the El Rey. I guess it was sort of a tradition, former employees leaving little calling cards. They seem to be all over the premise of the (former) bar and the theater. Under the stack of letter C’s for the marquee in the theater’s utility closet, I wrote, “Someday it will be your theater too.”
When I first starting working there, Kathy told me that same sentence. I remember feeling uneasy about it, wondering if I could hang out in that place long enough to call it my own. But somewhere in the last 3 years, between Ska Prom and inventory, it did become my theater.
I’ve spent more time in that building in the last year than I have anywhere else. It wasn’t just my theater, it was my home. So, standing in front of it Thursday morning, watching black smoke fold out in front of me, was quite possibly the single most heart-breaking thing I have witnessed.
You can't do anything, you just have watch it wash out into the streets; 3 years of your work, 3 years of your life. I stood outside of what was the Golden West for 7 hours, completely helpless, completely useless, occasionally breaking into tears, and hoping for just some kind of decent news. Just some sign that there was something good in all of that. Really, I would have taken anything. No one was hurt. I needed to remember that.
The Golden West on the other hand, is completely gutted. When I say that, I mean gone. The only thing left standing is the front wall and the beer cooler (of course…). It looks like a sound stage, a movie set. Once the smoke settled, it was just like a completely different dream. By far, the most surreal day of my life. How can a structure like that, with so much in it, so much to it, just vanish? And that’s literally what it did. You’re all breathing it in right now.
But, the old girl, the 80 year old lady, did exactly what she was supposed to do. She contained herself. For the most part. The Launchpad shares our wall, which is why there was damage to it. It looks like most of their damage happened when the roof caved, pulling some of the wall with it. The rest of their damage is water and smoke. The El Rey is almost perfect, minus basement flooding and and some smoke damage in the lobby. The Golden West protected her babies like a champ. I couldn't help but feel a little swell of pride, as silly as it sounds.
Where I am right now, I'm trying to make sense of it all.
It's pure tragedy. It's no one's fault, just a gaping loss. I don’t think I’ve ever processed something like this. This weekend, I just felt devastated, but completely numb all at the same time. I am coming to terms, with each walk-through I do, each beer I have with Daniel. It’s just… not there yet. I keep trying to rack my brain, thinking of all the amazing things that have happened in the old girl. But, the memories aren’t coming. I think I’ve somehow managed to block them out.
But something amazing happened Sunday. For the first time in all of this, I started finding the comedy in this, letting myself laugh about it.
That makes it feel a lot better.
There's lots more photos here. And more to come.
My kitty made an almost full recovery. $500 and 4 days later, they let him come home. He'll have to be on special kidney food for the rest of his life, but thankfully he likes it. He's energized, he's happy, and it warms my heart to see him running and playing.
Ready for the bad?
Before I left for my trip, I tagged the El Rey. I guess it was sort of a tradition, former employees leaving little calling cards. They seem to be all over the premise of the (former) bar and the theater. Under the stack of letter C’s for the marquee in the theater’s utility closet, I wrote, “Someday it will be your theater too.”
When I first starting working there, Kathy told me that same sentence. I remember feeling uneasy about it, wondering if I could hang out in that place long enough to call it my own. But somewhere in the last 3 years, between Ska Prom and inventory, it did become my theater.
I’ve spent more time in that building in the last year than I have anywhere else. It wasn’t just my theater, it was my home. So, standing in front of it Thursday morning, watching black smoke fold out in front of me, was quite possibly the single most heart-breaking thing I have witnessed.
You can't do anything, you just have watch it wash out into the streets; 3 years of your work, 3 years of your life. I stood outside of what was the Golden West for 7 hours, completely helpless, completely useless, occasionally breaking into tears, and hoping for just some kind of decent news. Just some sign that there was something good in all of that. Really, I would have taken anything. No one was hurt. I needed to remember that.
The Golden West on the other hand, is completely gutted. When I say that, I mean gone. The only thing left standing is the front wall and the beer cooler (of course…). It looks like a sound stage, a movie set. Once the smoke settled, it was just like a completely different dream. By far, the most surreal day of my life. How can a structure like that, with so much in it, so much to it, just vanish? And that’s literally what it did. You’re all breathing it in right now.
But, the old girl, the 80 year old lady, did exactly what she was supposed to do. She contained herself. For the most part. The Launchpad shares our wall, which is why there was damage to it. It looks like most of their damage happened when the roof caved, pulling some of the wall with it. The rest of their damage is water and smoke. The El Rey is almost perfect, minus basement flooding and and some smoke damage in the lobby. The Golden West protected her babies like a champ. I couldn't help but feel a little swell of pride, as silly as it sounds.
Where I am right now, I'm trying to make sense of it all.
It's pure tragedy. It's no one's fault, just a gaping loss. I don’t think I’ve ever processed something like this. This weekend, I just felt devastated, but completely numb all at the same time. I am coming to terms, with each walk-through I do, each beer I have with Daniel. It’s just… not there yet. I keep trying to rack my brain, thinking of all the amazing things that have happened in the old girl. But, the memories aren’t coming. I think I’ve somehow managed to block them out.
But something amazing happened Sunday. For the first time in all of this, I started finding the comedy in this, letting myself laugh about it.
That makes it feel a lot better.
There's lots more photos here. And more to come.
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