The Joy of Chaos

Where do I begin? Maybe chronologically will help me keep it some semblance of order. (I guess that’s how, not where.)
Let’s see, left work early Friday for the inspection at 140 Hart Avenue. Nothing was worse than we thought, and in fact I won’t have to replace the furnace, which means more money for the kitchen! Yay! I’m getting very excited about design and colors. My father has been a huge help and is making appointments with folks for estimates and such. I’m very grateful.
Friday night I met Sarah McKee (who had my job after and before me) and Alison Lerner at Flicker for drinks and to see a band who never showed. We had a lot of fun and talked a lot. A former acquisitions editor was there with his wife and he came over to talk to us but never acknowledged me or even glanced my way, and even though I tried several times to speak up and interrupt and introduce myself, I never was acknowledged. Weird. It was obvious I was there with the two women he was talking to, and I responded to things he said, but he never looked at me. Very weird. No explanation or theories, just an observation of something weird. Sarah said the bartender was hitting on me, but I couldn’t tell. How does one tell such things?
Sarah talked about her experience working in different areas of publishing, and it was interesting to get her perspective. From in the book stores, to Ingram (like a distributor I think you call it), to editor. Alison made many astute observations, including a tie between the South and Russia. I mentioned how I love Russian language, culture, etc., and that I didn’t really know where it came from. It wasn’t some Cold War or intrigue-driven fascination, no family history, but a love for the language and art and romantics. She pointed out that the South and Russian both have a tragic history that is still present every day, that feeds the culture and language and perspective. Maybe that’s what resonates with me. Tragedy. And unwillingness to let it go. Hmmm.
Okay, gotta move along here. That was just Friday.
Saturday morning I spied Wendy Huber. We are both now living with our parents in Cedar Creek and were out walking the lovely tree-shaded hills. That same morning I saw a pileated woodpecker. It wasn’t as big as the ones I saw in Arkansas. Those were big as chickens.
Later I went mattress shopping, and my dad came along because he had nothing else to do and because he and my mother are thinking about getting a king-size bed and he wanted to get an idea of what is out there. (I feel I have to explain why I brought my father mattress shopping. No, the South is not like that!) We went to the Round-Barn mattress store out between Jefferson and Commerce, because our friend Lanier Orr said it was the place to go. It’s a two-story round red barn. It’s not the cleanest and finest showroom (did I mention it is in a barn), but they do have good deals and a good selection. I bought the softest most fantastic mattress ever, and they will store it for me in their warehouse for a few months then deliver it when I’m ready for it. I can’t wait to sleep on clouds!
I treated Daddy to lunch at Cracker Barrel to thank him for his help, then loaded on sweet tea we hit Lowe’s with kitchen measurements. The kitchen I speced there is really super nice. I want it! It’s more expensive and has more features than the one at HD, but it will be a good investment. I can’t wait! After Lowe’s we hit a nature store Daddy loves, and he stocked up on peanut-butter suet for his beloved flickers and other woodpeckers. He also bought, among other things, a glass yellow mushroom with orange speckles to put out by his koi pond. It is kinda ugly and weird, but he likes it a lot.
After all that, I went out with Anne Marie and met Carrie and HEJ and her husband and a very large crowd in the Engine Room/Farm area. The band that played–I can’t remember its name–was absolutely wonderful. They were the old-timey harmony bluegrassy style, sort of Stanley Brothers, so so so good. I hear they play at Tasty World a lot, so I will check them out there. Better figure out their name first.
While there I met some recreational therapists, Joe and Ben. They do really interesting work. They work with troubled kids out in the wilderness, try to help them get their heads screwed back on straight. And they knit! I was impressed. I met lots of other wonderful people via Anne Marie. I had an amazing time.
Home stretch here. I need to blog more often I guess.
So Sunday I went to the Spelling Bee that Sarah McKee organized to raise money for the Athens Literacy Council. My friend Jane at work was on a team. They did remarkably well and they raised a lot of money. I did not know how to spell most of the words, but was impressed I could spell a few. (In case you haven’t deduced it from reading my blog, I’m a horrible speller. And yes I’m an editor. Don’t ask.)
Then I came home and knit and watched The Basketball Diaries. It was a good movie, very sad at parts. Towards the end, when Jim is alternating between begging his mother for help and scarily cursing her, that was hard to watch. Too familiar.
To come:
Monday: Sandy’s retirement party at Flinchum’s Phoenix (behind White Hall)
Tuesday: trapeze and knitting
Wednesday: Press knitting and Press happy hour
Thursday: wow, nothing to do yet?!
Friday: fun with Jessica Ewen
Saturday: see a play with Press folks, Anna in the Tropics
I bought a book about learning Arabic to work on during lunch, but I’m very irritated to discover the book has transliterated Arabic, not the characters. I want to learn the characters. What the heck is the point otherwise?! (See, very irritated.) May just have to buy a secondary book to teach me. I also want to learn to play the banjo and/or upright bass and harp. Anybody know anybody who teaches these?

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