All posts by Iris

Random Complaints

Randomness

There’s a smoke detector somewhere in the building that’s been chirping its need of new batteries for the last few days. I finally called the office today to report it (I can’t believe the people downstairs didn’t do this already, seeing as it sounds like it’s coming from the second floor), but I didn’t call until after the office closed for the day, so it’s still chirping. Driving me nuts.

The light in the front stairwell has been burnt out for weeks. I reported that too. I guess the people who used to report such things have all moved out. Either that or Mr. Fonts & Colors has grown more lax about checking the state of the apartments under his care.

The day after tomorrow will mark the 1-year anniversary of the day I got sick with whatever it is has kept me in varying degrees of crumminess all year. One. Year. That’s a very long time. I’ve hated this year. I’m ready for a new one. Luckily for me, a new one is on its way, but I’m putting it on notice from the get-go: it had BETTER be better than this year has been. I’m in no mood to put up with another year of crumminess.

The weather should also start handing out a little more sunlight. Waking up in the dark, leaving work in the dark, and having the few day-light hours spread horizon to horizon with thick grey clouds is ok for a while, but I need a break.

The house is dirty. Nobody seems to be cleaning it…

I slipped and fell on the ice in the apartment parking lot today. One minute I was walking along thinking how dangerous it was to have new snow over several inches of slick ice, the next minute I was on the ground with my legs twisted and my bags scattered in the snow. Now I have a massive bruise on my right hip, a twisted shoulder, and a swollen right wrist. Oh, and a whole lot of grumpiness towards the apartment manager for not sanding or salting or even plowing very much. I told him as much when I called this evening.

I’m turning 30 next week. This is freaking me out a little. I had big plans for my 20s, and very few of those plans panned out. I don’t think I’ll be accomplishing anything else significant in the next week.

Complaining makes me want to complain more, so maybe I’ll stop. Really, stuff’s going relatively well. I know people who are dealing with really tough things. I’m not, actually. I’d do well to remember that. I should also remember, while I diss this past year, that while it dealt out some crumminess, it also gave me time to learn a lot about myself. I’ve become a lot more comfortable with the person I’ve grown into these past few years, so that’s a plus.

And with that, I think I’ll go see if P wants to call it a night.

The Sounds of Vacation

Memories

Growing up, my family’s vacations involved a lot of people, a lot of luggage, a lot of hours in the car, and some rather incongruous songs.

As we carved out spaces for our legs and feet, shifted pillows, blankets, and bags around to make little nests for ourselves, and set off toward the highway, my dad would belt out “Gloom, despair, and agony on me / Deep, dark depression, excessive misery / If it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all / Gloom, despair, and agony on me!” After that uplifting ditty, he’d move on to Leonard Cohen’s “Oh please, don’t pass me by,” and “Passing Through.” These, he would belt out at the top of his voice, filling the car with depressing lyrics but delivering those lyrics in the most jovial way.

Dad got a Cohen CD for his birthday this year, so the rest of us heard to original versions of those songs for the first time. And you know what? They sounded happy, lyrics notwithstanding. They sounded like vacation. They sounded like my legs should be wedged in among rolled up sleeping bags and my head should be resting against the car window.

Goodbye and Good Riddance

Randomness

‘Tis the season for looking back, summing up, and then looking forward. 2008 is nearly gone; 2009 waits in the wings.

I can’t say I’m going to miss 2008. I had such grand plans for it, none of which panned out. The research I was going to do, the people I was going to get to know, the language I was going to learn, the dancing I was going to do, the fun I was going to have… it all got swallowed up in day after day of nothingness and fatigue. It’s almost as if 2008 never happened.

2009 looks like it’s positioning itself to be a weird one, too, though hopefully not for the same reasons. There’s so much potential waiting there in the wings, potential for great times, fulfilling studies, and joyous events. But, though I’m not given to pessimism, it looks like there’s distinct potential for heartache hiding in there as well. Here’s hoping that last bit of lurking potential never gets up the gumption to manifest itself.

Let it Snow

Portraits of People and Places

Snow has become an omnipresent part of my life for the past few weeks. If it’s not actively falling, it’s blowing or swirling or reflecting the tired sunlight or clinging to my shoes or melting off of roofs and dripping down to land on the exposed skin between my hat and the back of my coat collar as I walk into buildings…

I can’t hate snow. I curse it when it meddles with my travel plans, and it makes me wary of other drivers who may or may not know how to steer their sled-cars through the slop, but I can’t hate snow. It’s too fascinating. No two snowfalls are the same and even within one snow storm it changes shape and texture from time to time. One moment huge flakes sink heavily groundward and the next, tiny white flakes slant crazily into buildings, cars, and eyes. All the while, it carefully whitewashes the drab browns and greys of the winter ground. And sometimes, when the weather is just warm enough for snow but so cold that the snow is frozen more solidly than normal, it covers the ground in airy drifts of glittery whiteness, sparkling crazily in defiance of the cold.

But even beyond it’s beauty, snow serves an important function in my early winter existence: it serves as a clear and constant reminder that we have not yet reached the coldest months of the winter. During those coldest months, it’s actually too cold to snow. Let me repeat that: Too Cold To Snow. That’s far too cold. So for now, while it snows nearly every day, I will enjoy the snow not only for itself but also for it’s affirmation that things are not yet consistently, painfully, ridiculously cold.

Hope

Me and My Life

I caught myself talking about being sick in the past tense this week. For the first time nearly a year, I felt like my old self for days on end. For the first time in months and months, I made plans and did things without taking the inevitable crash into account and scheduling in prolonged fetal position time after every exertion.

Today I’m dragging a little again, but I’m holding onto the thought that this is just sleepiness brought on by living through an incredibly busy week. Please please please let it just be sleepiness. I’ve dared to hope that I’m getting better; I can’t go back now.