I woke up realtively early this morning in hopes of taking a quiz that I didn't get to take yesterday because when I went to take it the internet decided to start having issues with the internet. And my computer is still having issues. And I'm typing this on my roommates computer and I'm not going to my ten am class, and I would work more on my bibliography - I really just needed to add length, but I suppose that will have to wait also, because all that stuff is bookmarked on my computer. Fuck. Usually when one's internet doesn't work, both don't work and then they both start working later, usually at the same time. Today that's not the case and I'm typing on a keyboard that has a loose space-bar that is making the usual sound of tying very irritating. I'm surprised I haven't noticed it before.
I have started and restarted my computer about five times in the last hour and I think I may lodge it across the room if it doesn't start working within the next half hour. I hate technology for this reason. My generation is the generation of instance and this has contributed to my being the most impatient person ever. If I can't get something done when I want to I don't understand waiting. What is that? Time? Time that I could be using to do something else that I have to do this one thing first in order to do those other five things because that's how I planned it in my head when I made my list this morning.
Anyway, I suppose while I'm waiting I can try to focus on something else, something more pleasant.
Yesterday, Jessica and I woke up late-ish. Wait, I'll start on Saturday. On Saturday I came home from work and had planned on taking a nap, but I didn't end up falling asleep until nine. So I missed watching The Holiday on TBS (this is what I have resorted to doing on the weekend when I'm in Richmond) and I woke up around midnight, or one, or something - my roommate was still awake and watching Oklahoma! on TNT or something. I rolled over and went back to sleep. I woke up again around ten Sunday morning. I got almost tweleve hours of sleep! (MY COMPUTER IS STILL NOT WORKING!) Jessica eventually woke up and after I showered and danced for awhile, I convinced her to get breakfast at Cafe 821.
I've ordered food from there regularly for a couple of months now, but before Sunday had not ever stepped inside. It's cute. It has artwork for sale on the walls. I'm fairly certain that we were the only ones there without any tattoos or expressive piercings. Jessica has her ears pierced, that's it. I have yet to get anything bad from there and it's cheap, and the waitstaff are polite.
After a very filling breakfast we headed to Diversity Thrift. It's kind of out of the way, but it's one of Richmond's best not-so-secrets. Jessica and I have been looking at furniture and apartments on Craigslist for weeks. We've been to see several apartment and think we've found one that we love. It has a balcony and a fairly large fire escape. We're going to see it again with my dad on Wednesday, and hopefully will be signing some papers - because we're under 25 this particular company requires us to have a cosigner. Yesterday we bought our first piece of furniture, a teal loveseat. It was thirty-five bucks, and the more I think about it the more I feel we paid too much, but it is really darling, and will kind of match my monkey chair.
Jessica hates my monkey chair. It's terracota and has various shades of pink, green, purple and yellow on it in the shapes of flowers and fish and birds and leaves and monkeys. It's a desk chair from the 1950's. It was originally an awful brown vinyl with a huge melted spot on the seat. My mom got it for me from an empty warehouse she was cleaning and told me she's have it reupholstered for me. And thus the monkey chair was born. It's nothing short of fabulous. Most people that have seen it giggle and tell me how great it is. Not in complete seriousness though, I mean it is a monkey chair. She does not appreciate and seems to think that it's going to go in my room and not the living room. I do not see how that is going to happen, mostly because I don't think there will be room for anything in my room except my bed and maybe my dresser.
This is the biggest difference between she and I. I love bold patterns and shapes, but in moderation. I would never pair that chair with other patterns of the same sort. And the only reason I could deal with it and a teal loveseat is because the teal is a very dark teal, and solid. From here on out we may have to stick to more neutral colors, which is fine with Jess. She likes everything the opposite of me. For example our bedspreads. Both are down, but mine is brown with small white polkadots all over it - neutral, but interesting. Her's is pale pink. Her sheets are pale pink and green stripes. I kind of hate pastels. Growing up my room was yellow, but it was not pastel, it was the color of margerine and dubbed "lemon drop" by the pain company, and it may very well appear in our apartment seeing as there are still two cans of it at my parents house. We may also have a purple something because there is a can of purple paint left over from when I repainted the hallway bathroom for mother's day four years ago.
Jessica is okay with blank, white walls. I hate them. I find them creepy. They remind me too much of a hospital. So, I'm okay with painting, and repainting, if it means maintianing what little sanity I have left. Jessica has vowed to hire someone else to do everything when she eventually lives on her own and has the money to do so. I grew up with a mother who had/has a cleaning business and I resent the fact that she is employed by lazy people who don't clean up after themselves. I see no need for cleaning people, painters, interior designers, personal chefs, gardening companies, etc.
I have all these ideas, and they're relatively cheap, but I have difficutly explaining them and Jessica is weary of anything I am capable of explaining. Just know it will be neat, and clean, and oraganized and nothing at all like my mother's beige walls and Monet prints.
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