(no subject)

( Those were the days, my friend... and they still are. )

I was not meant by Fortune to sleep in on a Saturday morning. The extremely loud trash truck came by, the construction on the corner across from us resumed, Bryan made a few trips through the living room (for what, I'm not sure) Ben's brain-frying alarm went off twice (Bryan eventually went in to turn it off, only to discover it was all of eleven inches from Ben's head and he still hadn't woken up), and then, when I thought the volume limit for reasonably plausible events had been passed, somebody revved up a chainsaw in the street right below us, possibly to cut up a lightning-struck tree.

I got up, feeling possibly the least put-together I've ever felt in a morning over there, wrapped the blanket around my unsightly abdomen, and went to talk to Bryan, who was having breakfast. Apparently this plethora of maddening noise is standard, but I must have slept through it in previous mornings. If I live there next year, I'm going to invest in some earplugs and use my phone's vibration as an alarm.

Speaking of living elsewhere, my mom's gotten a call and a visit from a realtor interested in this house for $85/sq-ft, which would be spectacular, especially as we wouldn't have to start over and fix the foundation (again), take the roof off, and match the fixtures to remodel it. My vote is we gut it for the stone and moulding, maybe even the can lights, if we're being real packrats, and let them bulldoze if for whatever they're going to build. It's been awhile since we moved, but I remember how it works. Though I do like this house and its location, it's just a house, and it's been part of life for me for as long as I can remember to get another one, make it better, and sell it for more. That's how my mom makes money, and why she doesn't have a real job besides a church gig and some voice lessons. She's really good at it. The fiasco in Santa Monica was a complete fluke, caused by a conglomeration of prejudice and powertrips no one could reasonably have expected. But we've done the real estate investment-improvement thing my whole life, and this is a pretty good opportunity; apparently it's a very, very friendly sellers' market in Houston right now.

The upshot: maybe we'll dump this house, and I'll be living with Ben and Stephan next year with no HQ to return to. It'd be different.

But for now, to finish the Ling reconstruction homework so I can check it with Kim so I can faff about doing nothing the rest of the day (a refreshing thought) and take whoever can go to the Symphony tonight for some Russian piano concertos.

(no subject)

Well, that was an ordeal. I spent quite awhile on my ling homework this morning when I got up, but Kim and I spent another hour and a half on it just now. It's a relief that we've done with it, but Owlspace is down, so I have this paranoia that I won't be able to turn it in...

(no subject)

After the fourth minor failure of a night full of minor failures, I'm planning on possibly going to bed and throwing myself under a train in the morning. The thought has crossed my mind several times this evening.

It was a nice enough afternoon, once the Ling homework was out of the way; I went to get Stephan and we and Andy spent awhile networking our laptops and trading music. I thought Ben was coming to the piano concertos at the Symphony, but he couldn't, so I picked him up from Shepherd on the way bringing Stephan home in my car, since Stephan's car was drowned in my driveway last night and in the shop today. Or so I thought; they called as I was driving Stephan and Ben home, and we turned mid-journey to head for the shop. We missed it the first try, despite its rather conspicuous position on Kirby. But I circled round and dropped them off.

And then had no one to take to the symphony. Which is fine, since mama will go if no one else does, but as I called Bryan to double-check on both the symphony (tonight or tomorrow) and Roger's (tomorrow), I was informed that the day hadn't gone as he planned, he hadn't got enough done, and he could go neither tonight nor tomorrow. Well, there went that.

The symphony was decent, the program was marvelously Russian, and it all made me miss Reggie more than I have since before I last saw him. I was a mood by the time I got home.

Having informed Bryan ahead of time that I was going to make myself some food and then come over to try and convince him to come tomorrow, I snarfed a hamburger and piled my computer into my backpack to take on my bike. Failure: my back liketh not the weight after hours of sitting still. But now that I'm here, and have been informed Ben and Stephan are depressed because since I was out at the symphony they have no friends (well, since they weren't at the symphony with me, I had no friends either), Stephan's out with Marshall, Bryan's working diligently enough in his room that I don't dare disturb him, and Ben's practicing.