Sorry for the long delay. I wanted to do an update regarding my California trip, but I've been super busy. For starters, it was the end of the month, and therefore "crunch time" for loans. I had to actually work for all eight hours at work, for almost a week and a half. Bad news was that I didn't get to write much, good news is that I bonused, meaning I'm gonna make a good amount of money. The other issue that is limiting my free time is this:
My "parents" have left town.
John and Kim, the wonderful couple who have taken me in and provided me with employment, have left the country for three weeks on a mission to get even more people into their home. That's right, they've decided to adopt an orphan from the Ukraine. This couple is kind and caring beyond belief. Besides my homeless ass and the three children they already have, John and Kim also have two dogs, one of which is a gigantic mastiff. That is six mouths to feed. But they want to help this young boy named Victor who they met a year ago when he and a group of other orphans were flown to the US as a kind of test run. Since they decided to pull the trigger on this thing the whole process has taken more than a year, cost who-knows-what, and required reams of paperwork, hours of interviews, and more than one inspection of the house. Tiresome, to say the least. There is so much that can go wrong with everything, and they have to fly halfway around the world and take a train still further in order to find out if they can bring Victor home...in another month. Yep, this is the first of two trips. Looking at the fact that any two idiots can bump uglies and produce a child that neither of them actually wants, the process to adopt that same child into a loving home almost seems too difficult. The kid wants help, the family wants the kid, only there is two massive bureaucracies and one annoying language barrier to muddy the proceedings. Not that they should just give orphans to whoever wants one. Not at all. It's just that the process could be off-putting for those without the tenacity of a cockroach(then again, maybe that is the point). So, moving on.The resolve shown by John and Kim is amazing to me, and I just wanted to tip my hat to them while bringing us to the point of the post, which is this: I now am the "man" of the house.
Not in a breadwinner sense. Oh, no. But I now share house-running duties with Kim's mom, Janet. Before we go on, let me just state that the life of the housewife is by no means easy. Kim is the queen, and her home is under control, despite the fact that three kids plus two dogs frequently adds up to pure chaos. I've asked for chores to do around the house, so I can help out, but I have been flat-out denied...until now. In her stead, Janet and I are doing our best. Admittedly, Janet does the lion's share of the work, and is pretty much directly responsible for the lives of the two youngest children (the oldest is currently living with friends, aka "on vacation"). My duties are paltry compared to hers,BUT DUTIES NONETHELESS!!! Janet has an item-by-item itenerary that tells her exactly what needs to be done, and exactly when. The packet sits on the counter when Janet is home, and browsing through it I see that Janet, bless her heart, has gone through and put little notes all over it with additional information. She is very serious about her task, and judging by the fact that the kids are eating regularly, and don't smell too bad, and no one has showed up to take them away, she is doing it well.
I, on the other hand, have a smaller list:
-Tuesday night: roll trash cans out
-Wednesday night: bring trash cans in
-Empty pool traps of leaves
-Dog mounds
...it's only the last one I'm not too stoked about. Basically, it amounts to me, in my robe, with a shovel, picking up shit.
Not that bad, really. Two rules for doing this, though:
1. Don't just scoop up the first turd you see, working your way to the back. Pass up all the poop, and work your way out . Shoveled crap still leaves a crap-stain, and crap-stains are harder to see than a full-on turd but still smell as bad when they're all over your slippers.
2. When toting 20 pounds of dog shit on a shovel, hold the shovel to one side.
I really am not complaining. Poop is never fun, but I've never felt quite so...domesticated. I wish I had chores when John and Kim are in town.
And now, a photo essay detailing some of the high points of my trip...
Soundtrack change: "Click click click click" by Bishop Allen
...I just saw these guys live at the Granada, where I saw Cat Power a while back. It was great.
Okay, the trip.
Right off the plane, I went to the Prado, for good times and good eats.
Following that, we went to see (the fantastic) Wrong Trousers at the Ken Club, where we remained for the rest of the evening, getting shit-housed.
The next day, after a delicious breakfast with some old-school Outbackers and other assorted friends, I headed up to LA with Monica. There we met RC and Stephanie, with plans to go to Knott's Scary Farm.
But first, we drank.
Once inside the park, we found that it was very scary.
The rides were running, and also quite scary.
After stopping to ask for directions...
...we were on our way to see the freakiest, yet sexiest monster in the park.
Later, we had the midnight buffet.
Sunday meant a trip to Palm Springs to see Papa and Martha. While there, we adopted a new kitten into Papa's house.
Monica and I were fed a great dinner, and the we played dominoes. It was an old-school kinda party, and we all we pretty giggly. It's always a blast at Papa's house.
Back to San Diego on Monday, where a couple of people came and had beers with me while I waited to see if the plane was gonna be able to fly out with the fires blazing and all.
And then, I flew away, in what was the freakiest takeoff ever. Massive turbulence, and the horrifying sight of San Diego county on fire. It looked like hell on earth.
...and now I'm back in fuckin' Dallas.
Got a speeding ticket to the tune of $225 last week. The policeman was trying to talk to me about the difference in cost of living between SD and DFW. Needless to say, I wasn't in the mood for a friendly chat. Seven years in San Diego without a single traffic offense, and I'm not in Dallas three months and I'm already running afoul of the law.
On the up side, the weather here has been gorgeous. Very San Diego-ish. I've actually been able to go on bike rides again.
1 comment:
i just discovered Rachael a few weeks ago. goo to read your writing nik. wish you were here!
♥theresa
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