Besieged

I went to the pharmacy to pick up a couple of prescriptions this evening and the clerk asked me my name and my address.

370 West Bedbug Central, I wanted to say.

I only said it in my head, though, as the mere thought of bedbugs will throw anyone residing in the city of New York into a frenzy. And I live right in the part of town that has had the worst bedbug problem. And...I think...they are in... my bed.

I know a couple of people who have dealt with this, now my trusted advisors, who -

We interrupt this blog entry to note how dreamy Desmond on Lost is. Oh, I am so taken with him! We now return to your regularly scheduled blogging.

- to know if you have them for sure, so there's still a possibility that it's something else, but what else would have exactly the same -

Really, he has such a nice face. So attractive, even with that crooked nose. And there's this air of innocence about him; a purity, if you will.

- just itchy everywhere, and I know that it is probably mostly psychosomatic, but -

He's just got this kind of calm confidence that is such a draw. And his voice. I just love his accent. That gorgeous accent coming out of that gorgeous face!

- and I haven't been traveling, so I don't know how they got -

And the way he calls everybody "brutha..." Mmmmmmm.

- crap, is that...?! Oh, never mind. It's just a fleck of black pepper.

A return, finally

I got my sister a giant royal blue Pez dispenser as a gift. A battery operated one. It played songs and made noise and generally entertained. But then it started beeping. I turned it off, but it kept going. I took off the back of it and pulled a battery out. It kept beeping. I took the other battery out, but still, it kept beeping.

"I can't make it stop," I said aloud, and woke myself doing so.

It was my alarm, which apparently had been going off for forty-seven minutes this morning.

Forty-seven minutes.

It's been a tough week. Work has been incredibly busy. I've worked forty hours already this week and it is only Thursday. I'm so busy we've had to send someone else to court.

So it was a challenge to wake up this morning. And when I finally did, I was forty-seven minutes behind schedule. In order to get to work on time, I decided to get a cab. I didn't want to - well, I did want to - I want to take a cab every day, but I don't let myself. I didn't really have a choice this morning, because I simply can't be late to work.

The weather here has been relatively warm and spring-like, and you know what that means - it's time to bring back the green overcoat. I've been wearing it all week with little to no weird attention, which is a good thing, as I don't really have the energy for it right now.

Several cabs passed me this morning as I was trying to hail one, and I was starting to get really frustrated. But one finally stopped. When I got in, he was laughing. "I stopped for you," he said.

"Yes," I said. "Several other cabs didn't."

"They must be blind not to see you. But I see ok. I see your green coat. Can't miss that green coat!"

At last, that damn green coat got me the kind of attention I wanted.

Magnetic

It was a fairly bleak day in New York today. Sleet and snow that didn't stick, so, no fluffy white, just grey grossness outside. Naturally, I had to go to court.

I had to go to not one, but two courts today, Civil and Criminal. Fabulous. I went to Civil first, to hand deliver some courtesy copies of documents that had previously been filed. When I got where I was going, they told me to go to another room to hand in the papers. When I got there, they told me they couldn't accept them.

Some guy: "Judge X won't accept any papers until five days before they are due. This isn't due until April first. Boy, you are WAAAYYYY too early!"

Me: "What?"

Some guy: "Judge X won't accept any papers until five days before they are due. You'll have to come back then."

Me: "Is this just for Judge X or for all the judges?"

Some guy: *Stares*

Seriously, he just stared at me. So I went back to the place where I started and asked the slightly crusty guy at the desk what was going on. He went to speak with a portly gentleman further back in the room. I couldn't really hear what they were saying, but their conversation was pretty animated, and the slightly crusty guy seemed to dislike the information he was getting. He returned to me, rolling his eyes, and apologized. He explained to me that this was a new rule in effect since Friday. Friday? The courts were closed on Friday. And Monday. So it really went into effect today, and there was no way we could've known anyway. Slightly crusty guy was so apologetic that I couldn't be upset anymore. I thanked him and headed out for Criminal Court.

Now, I HATE Criminal Court - here's why: they treat you like a criminal when you go there. They are impolite and disrespectful. Now, I understand that Criminal Court is probably a hard place to work, you know, 'cause of the criminals and all. And I know that these guys don't have any idea who I am when I walk through the door. For all they know, I've got a knife or gun or prison shank on me. But what they don't realize is that I would NEVER bring a knife or gun or prison shank to Criminal Court. I mean, it just isn't done. No, I leave my prison shank where it belongs, in my silverware drawer in case I need to slice a grapefruit or stab Big Sal when he tries to attack me in the shower.

Of course today I wore bracelets and they set off the metal detector as I went through. Twice. So, guess who got wanded? Yep, me. Front, then back. The wand beeped as it came across my bracelets, and then again across my behind. And then again across my behind. Then again.

"You have something in back?" he asked.

I lifted up my coat. "No. Just a big butt," I explained.

I went on my way to the Summons office to see if I could get more information on a ticket one of our clients received.

"Can you tell me if you have the paperwork on this yet?" I asked.

"No, we don't have anything on this," the clerk answered.

"Well, can you at least tell me what the violation is?"

"No. It'll say that on the paperwork."

Helpful. So I was unsuccessful in both courts today. One long, cold, wet, nasty trip and what do I have to show for it?

A big, magnetic butt.

Snippets

I find it ironic that I am eating a pie while watching The Biggest Loser. So I'm changing the channel to The Office.

***

I apologize for not posting in so long. I was too stressed out and tired to post anything, and I fear that my posts would have been something like this:

ROAR! RwaroarawOAR! ROOOOOOAOOOOAOOOOAAARRRR!!!!

But I've had a vacation, so I am better now. See?

mew.

***

New York City is bitterly cold this evening. I thought it was supposed to be warmer (relatively) tonight, but I guess I didn't figure in the wind chill. I have, of course, retired my green overcoat until warmer days (somewhere in the future, probably about 9 million months from now. Maybe.) and have been wearing my white coat. It is a little too big, but that's good, because I can layer up underneath. The only problem is that instead of having four good, solid buttons, it has three buttons and...a snap. A snap? Really? On a winter coat? The snap is just below my waist, so naturally if the wind is blowing, it magically unfastens that snap and blows the bottom of my coat up in the air.

It occurs to me now how ridiculous my coat situation is. My green coat attracts wackadoos, my brown coat is too small to wear sweaters underneath (and even smaller than that, after all the celebratory Christmas eating), and my white coat flies up like The Flying Nun's wimple.

***

Do you suppose I could somehow parlay this blog into several new coats?

***

So I was out shopping with my friend on Sunday, and she had to go to her office afterward. I went up in the elevator with her so that I could use the restroom, and then she offered me a cup of tea to take with me on my way home. I accepted her offer and made myself half a cup of tea, put the lid on and made my way out and to the subway. I had to wait for a little bit, but the train came and I was able to get a seat next to this woman. A woman who was wearing a big, fat fur coat. She completely freaked out when she saw me sit next to her. "Watch your coffee!" she instructed me, nastily. I ignored her. But the longer I sat there, the more my impish side took over, and I moved the (almost empty) cup of tea closer and closer to her fur coat. She was sighing and murmuring and huffing and puffing in her seat, but I just continued to pretend to ignore her while my cup hovered dangerously (not) over her sable. Luckily for her, I got off at the next stop. But that short ride sure was fun for me. Hee hee!

In which I think I'm going to have to get a new overcoat

I worked today. I don't love working on Saturday, but it's ok for two reasons:

1) Overtime pay; and

2) Nobody bothers me and I can actually get things done.

But it is still work and after eight straight hours I was ready to go home. When I left the office it was drizzling a bit and I had left my umbrella at home but I thought I would be ok because I was wearing my green raincoat. Just when I'd almost forgotten the adventures I've had in that thing...

I was a few blocks out when I realized that I was supposed to pick up a prescription from the pharmacy by the office today, so I turned around and went back. It began to pour and I got drenched pretty quickly. I mean drenched. Soaked. Sopping wet. Rain dripping off my hair. I think it even rained into my purse. So I was happy to get my prescription and get to the subway.

I waited briefly for the 7 train and took it across to Times Square, where I waited for the uptown 1. Luckily the platform was pretty clear and I could sit down on one of the benches. I was still dripping wet from head to toe and desperate to get home. But no sooner had I sat down then I gentleman approached me. And when I say gentleman, I mean a weird looking guy wearing ...some sort of goggles. Sort of like a scuba mask, but maybe they were really racquetball or squash goggles. Remember how adorable Hugh Grant looked in Notting Hill when he wore his scuba mask to the movies?

Yeah, it was nothing like that.

He (the weird guy, not Hugh Grant) said "Do you want to come back to my place and party with me?"

"No, thank you," I replied

"Come on, come back to my place and we'll party."

"I don't think so."

"Just come to my place with me," he insisted.

"No, thank you," I said, firmly.

"My roommate's a faggot." I suppose that was intended to make me feel comfortable about going home with some random guy I met on a subway platform who was WEARING GOGGLES. It didn't work. I just got up and walked away from him and he went on to torment someone else, I suppose. By that time I had lost my seat on the bench, so I was waiting by a pillar.

Oh, but wait! He came back.

"I didn't mean to bother you, I just wanted to-" I walked over towards a group of men who were NOT wearing any sort of eyewear. He went away for good this time.

The train finally came and I got home fine. I just wonder what it is about me that attracts the wackos. I think it might have something to do with that damn green coat.

Dear ET*:

Thank you for your order for a new blog entry. We would like to inform you that your request is currently being processed, and we will notify you as soon as said blog entry is available.

We here at Rich and Fancy welcome the opportunity to serve you. We also would like to remind you that we strive to provide you with quality blog entries (see: toilet paper; hemhorroids), which sometimes take a little longer than normal to develop, and we therefore appreciate your patience.

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*ET is my sister. I have not lost my mind and begun writing blog entries to martians.

In which I throw you a rambling, senseless bone

I am in a pickle. I love that saying "in a pickle," because it makes absolutely no sense. How can you be in a pickle? You'd have to get all meta-physical and start talking about how our atoms really exist in multiple places at once and then we'd have to talk about parallel universes again, and before you know it, you're scraping your brains off the wall.

Anyways, in a pickle I am. Because I have run out of toilet paper. I don't really know how it happened, but I came home this evening and went to the bathroom and used the last of it. The very last of it. No tissues or paper towels. Not even any coffee filters. Suddenly I am living like a GUY. (Once my friend A and I went over to these guys' house. They had two bathrooms. And no toilet paper in either one. No tissues. No paper towels. NO APOLOGIES. Gross.)

This did not happen because I can't afford to buy toilet paper (although that might have been a possibility a few weeks ago). I actually forgot to get some on the way home from work is all. Oooh, I need toothpaste, too.

I realize that I am just being stubborn by not going out to get any tonight, but I won't, because of those five flights of stairs I have to walk up. FIVE. I already walked up them once today. I'm not doing it again. Listen, if you had to walk up all those effing stairs, you would weigh your options, too. When I run errands on the weekends, I try to do everything that needs to be done before going back home, usually laden with grocery and drugstore bags. By the time I get to my door, I'm sweating and panting, but at least I got it all up to the top.

My one big treat that I occasionally indulge in is having my laundry picked up and dropped off. Man, I love that! They come up and get it, then they bring it all back, up all those stairs, and it is CLEAN and FOLDED. Keep your speed boats and Cristal. That, my friends, is the definition of luxury.

Ok, I just located a paper napkin and am checking my purse for kleenex. I'll let you know how it goes.

Keeping my fingers crossed to make it till morning!