The New England Society for Tea Fetishism

Remember that cushy setup I had last week? You know, the one where I only had to take the bus once a week, where I could finally realize my dream of not showing up to work half-naked because I have to factor in appropriate dress for a fifteen minute walk to the bus stop and a possible hour-long wait for the bus and the sardine-like conditions on the bus in 87 degree heat with up to 85% humidity? The one where I was plotting madly about what to do with the $12 I'd save every week? Well, not five hours after I wrote that post, Suzanne called to say that she was now working from 8-5. I work from 9:30-6. Bummer dude.

I forgot to tell you all about the lovely conversation I heard the other day while I waited in line to buy my breakfast at the snack bar in the grocery store. A tall, thin old man with white hair in a black suit and shiny black shoes was talking to the women behind the counter. I very quickly surmised that he was an undertaker, or at least worked for a funeral home. I think it was the talking about how he carts dead bodies around in the back of his truck that tipped me off. He told a story about how he weaseled his way onto an earlier ferry at Orient Point by telling the guys at the dock that he was transporting a body and he needed to get on his way pronto because he didn't know how long it was going to, errrrr, last, if you know what I mean. Of course, the body was fine, but the ferry guys didn't know that. Nauseating and fascinating at the same time.

I've taken up shortand. I say that it'll help me take notes better at work, but now that I think about it I guess I just need a hobby. It makes a great code since the kind I'm learning substitutes symbols for speech sounds rather than for letters. Anybody else want to learn with me? We can pretend we're in the sixth grade and write coded letters back and forth to each other. And then we can have a sleepover and crimp each other's hair and wear big, long t-shirts as nightgowns. Can you wait? I know I can't.

Today, while tidying up the bathroom, I managed to mangle my toe. The way the bathroom is set up, there's a shower stall and directly behind that the wall recesses and there's the toilet. I am chronically barefoot (and therefore my feet are always filthy, but that's neither here nor there) and I caught my middle toe on my right foot on the corner of that wall. There was a bit of a snapping noise, then that awful two or three seconds while you wait for the electrical signal to travel up your synapses and reach your brain, and then, pain. It sucked, but I could bend everything well enough, so I figured nothing was broken. About a minute later I look down and my toe is covered in blood. Somehow I managed to split the skin next to my nail and cause the Texas chainsaw massacre to spew out. I think I may have to wear opened toed sandals for a few days.

It's just been a long week. I've been doing all kinds of computer work, puttin in purchase orders, deleting stuff from the warehouses that we don't have in stock anymore. It involves lots of small print and by the end of the day I can barely focus on the heating directions for my instant udon noodle soup, nevermind look at a computer screen. But instant udon noodle soup is pretty good.

I have a ride to work for every day except Saturday now, and while I may lament the loss of interesting bus anecdotes, I will not miss the smell of forty migrant workers after a hard day of property care, house painting, and field tending in the hot, hot sun, all crammed into a small, barely ventilated space. At least the humidity finally broke here yesterday. I actually got to sleep in my pajamas with the extra added bonus of being able to use the sheet.

Swans are not polite dinner guests. They hiss, they nip at the other guests, and they relieve themselves right in front of you. We've been feeding the swan family that comes by every evening (now that we've started feeding them). They always have two female ducks in tow, who must have learned that if you want some regular grub it's a good idea to get sloppy seconds off the swans. Since we're not made of money and can' t afford to buy a loaf of bread for waterfowl every day, they've also been getting a wide variety of grasses and weeds growing on the property. They seem to like it.

I really, really do. I miss having all my silly thoughts and experiences chronicled for me. So I'm going to try to blog at least twice a week from now on. We'll see how that goes. Probably the way of only eating junk food on the weekends.

I went home last week which was altogether wonderful, except for the part where I had to face (face?) down the Speculum of Doom. It really is always worse than I imagine it's going to be. But enough of that. I got a nice tan at Nahant beach with my mom. Tracy and I poked around the tide pools at the Salem Willows and I got to eat ice cream from Hobbes. There was much seafood to be had. Bob's, as far as I know from my mom actually asking someone who works there, is not closing. However, Tony Lena's sub shop is moving. Where? No one knows, but there will be a gas station/convenience store in it's place. My mom took me to a restuarant in North Andover that she saw on The Phantom Gourmet ( I got to watch The Phantom Gourmet!)called Joe Fish. It's built to look like a whimsical yellow fisherman's shack. My dad even came by the house and hung out for a while. Oh, and my mother's new kitchen is gorgeous.

On the ride back the bus broke down right at ferry dock, which, I have to say, was very classy on the part of the bus. While I waited for the bus coming from Foxwoods to pick us up I got a call from the lovely Ms. Amy, and we both complained about how much we work and chatted about Dr. G.

Work has slowed. I got maybe 15 calls on Sunday and there was no one around to give me a project to keep me busy. To counteract the boredom of sitting around with nothing to do, I went on an uninteded shopping spree yesterday at the Tanger Outlets in Riverhead and ended up with a long skirt, a sexy pair of grey slacks, a cute hooded sweater/shirt made out of thermal material, a fancy-shmancy brown jacket, and a pair of sandals. So at least while I'm sitting there bored out of my mind I can look pretty. Tracy and I headed out to Riverhead at about 2pm and didn't get back until 7. It's very dangerous to go clothes shopping when you have absolutely no plan of what you intend to purchase. But I have no buyer's remorse because it's all great stuff that I will wear until it's all coming apart at the seams.

And then I got home and ate the Thai Noodle Bowl that came in the package Amy sent me (quite tasty--would be great with some stir-fried veggies), which was accompanied by a large can of ginger chews (jackpot!) a miniature garden gnome, a card, probably something else I'm forgetting right now, and a blue shirt from Benneton. I heart packages soooooo much. And I loves my Amy.

Well, it suddenly got very dark and windy, and it's nasty humid out. I'm thinking thunder storm. It's a good time to turn off the computer.