That post about my title was kinda bitter, so I'm making this one a separate post. I think I'm going to brave driving downtown again today. I really, really don't like it. Not liking it isn't really the issue. What is the issue is that it scares me. I went last weekend by myself, and I drove in circles most of the time, pissed off a few drivers, and then left without stopping. Today, I'd like to get down to the Battery, so I'm just going to have to pluck up my courage and brave downtown traffic and parking. I'm reading a sequel to Gone With The Wind, and most of it takes place in Charleston, along the Battery, and I want to see if I can recognize anything from the book. I wonder if I could hire a tour guide for the day to show me around, and give me a bit of history? No, probably not. Besides, I'd probably frighten them away like I did the nice trolley-driver on Charles Town Landing. He stopped and said good afternoon to me, and since he was the first person that weekend to talk to me (the only one, too) I about near talked his ear off until he abruptly told me he had to go, and left! The silly things I do!
Izzy, Izzy, Izzy! Who knew that buying a car could be so much damned trouble? My dealer told me that to register my car in SC, I'd need to go to a SC DMV with my title and register it there, pay the sales tax there, and apply for tags. Great. But- he couldn't give me the title. He wasn't allowed to give it to me. He had to send it to the DMV, and then I would go there and get everything taken care of. Great. So, I gave him the address of the DMV off of 61 and Wappoo Rd, but when I went to get my license made, I found (very rudely and abruptly, I thought) that they wouldn't do that there. Fine. So I called my dealer and gave them the address of the Leeds Ave DMV, because they could do that there. No problem, said the dealer- the title hadn't even been put in the mail yet. Well, I went to the Leeds Ave DMV to see if they'd gotten it yet, and lo and behold - they won't accept Jack Shit from the dealer. Great. Their policy is to send it back to the dealer. So, I called my dealer again and relayed what I had been told (again, rudely and abruptly). He was unaware of any restriction like that, but told me he'd do some digging around and get to the bottom of it. My title had already been mailed. The next day, he said that he'd talked to the DMV in South Carolina and they had received my title and had sent it back to him, but as long as he sent the monies in with the title, they'd process it and I could get it all taken care of then. Fine. So, while he waited for the title to make its way back to him, he said I'd need to send a check to him for the SC sales tax and the registration fee, $315. He then would send a company check with my title and overnight them both back to the SC DMV and that way, I could get everything taken care of. Great. Three weeks go by...no word. I've made a nuisance of myself by calling my dealer so often to find out if he'd gotten my title back in the mail, and every time he told me no, he hadn't. Finally, I spoke with a person at the Leeds Ave DMV (and I tell you, trying to get someone on the phone there was like pulling teeth!), and he said he'd do some hunting for me, and asked when my tag expired. Tuesday, I told him. Tuesday of this week. It was already Thursday. He said he'd get me a 45-day tag, which would give me until September 8th to get this mess resolved, and in the meantime, he'd look into the business of my title. When I got to the DMV on Friday, he'd found nothing - no record of ever receiving and then sending back anything from my dealer. I bought a 45-day tag, and he told me ever so courteously that my best shot was to request a duplicate title from my dealer. I told my dealer this and he said he'd talk to the people at the DMV right then, and then call me back. He did, and said that they'd have to launch an inquiry into finding my title, and that he'd have to talk to them on Tuesday (it was almost 5 o'clock on Friday at the time), and he'd let me know what to do on Tuesday. So that's where I am - stuck, but at least my tag is no longer expired, and is no longer sitting propped up in my back window. My dad, though, thinks that the dealer hasn't done a damn thing for me. The dealer has already sold me the car - and has my money - and from my bank statement, has already cashed the $315-check I sent. What futher use do they have for me? I can't think like that - I'll go crazy. I know I'm gullible, I know I believe whole-heartedly the things people tell me, no matter the circumstances or the amount of alcohol they've consumed, and I ususally end up getting the shaft. But I'm going to trust my dealer on this matter - he sounds honest. I just hope it can all get resolved before my tag expires again. At least I have nothing to do this weekend...I can spend every moment worrying about my damn title. What joy!
Before I started my job, I was afraid it would consume my life - or that my life would not only revolve around my job but also mainly consist of my job (i.e. I'd have no life outside of my job). I see that fear gradually becoming a reality, but it really isn't that bad. I'm not working around the clock, but I am starting to live for the interactions that I have with my co-workers. It's just that they're so nice to me! They always have something nice to say - whether it's "Good morning," or some other greeting.
One woman told me that although she hadn't met me, she'd always noticed that I had 'perdy lips' every time she saw me around. She said she thought that I had had cosmetic surgery on them, and commented on my 'perdy lips' to all the people that passed us in the hall. It was odd, extremely odd to be told I have pretty lips (by a woman, no less! although she did tell me she meant nothing by it other than a compliment), but it was also oddly flattering.
Then there's Steve who checks the balances every morning. He always makes a point of coming to greet me and ask me how I'm doing when he comes and calibrates the balance next to my lab bench. When I told him that I had moved into a new apartment, he told me that a young, attractive woman like me shouldn't have any trouble getting help to move her in.
Michael echoed those sentiments when he told me that if I needed any help at all, say someone to do some heavy lifting, that he'd be happy to help me (I should mention that both of these men are old enough to be my father, are both happily married, and that nothing dirty is meant or implied in what they or I say). Michael is perhaps the nicest man I've met there - he always has something nice to say to me, whether it's that he's surprised I didn't melt in the rain because I was so sweet, or that my staying late may be bad for me but it was good for them because it meant that they got to have me around just a little longer.
The other Michael (aka "The Professor") told me that he liked walking past me in the mornings at work because I always had a smile on my face, and then he asked if I had any relatives out in the Midwest because I reminded him strikingly of his nephew's wife, and he has always thought that his nephew married very well indeed.
And then Kathy is always nice to talk to, and she's always bright and chipper in the mornings, and today she took me out to lunch at Bear E Patch because she wanted to get me an apartment-warming present but didn't know what I'd need. She also bought a book for me to read just because she knew I liked to read and thought I might be interested in it.
And then there's Mel - who is without a doubt the sweetest person I have ever met. She befriended me right from the very start and is always doing things for me. My first day working the 4am to noon shift, she went by Chik-fil-a and bought me a chicken biscuit for breakfast. Before I even started my shift, she invited me to go out with her and her friends to see a movie in North Charleston. When she heard that I wanted to see the movie Seven, she went out an bought it and after we'd watched it together, she insisted that I keep it. Just yesterday she bought me a pack of Pepsis because she knew I liked it and had come across a deal when she was out grocery shopping (and I think she knew just how strapped for money I am!=D).
I have so many things to look forward to every day at work - and most of them are the people I know there - and when the day waxes on and my feet are throbbing, or I'm so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, or when I'm feeling low or close to tears after another evening spent in complete solitude and silence, I can always count on the people I work with to cheer me up. So now, when I see that work is gradually beginning to take precedence in my life (always excepting family and friends), I accept it, and I find that I am grateful I have something to look forward to. I never thought I'd say this, but...I love my job.
Labor day fast approacheth, and I'm looking forward to a day of no labor (corny pun, I know). I was thinking of going up to see my family in North Carolina, but with the expired-tag situation on my car still unresolved, and the tag still propped up in my back window since it was pulled off last Friday, I'm not driving anywhere except around town and to work. I hate red tape. So, a three-day weekend - yay! Save that I'll probably be wishing I was at work all day Monday (let alone Saturday and Sunday) just for the sake of having someone to talk to. I am glad that I'm out on my own, but living on my own just gets so lonely, some nights I think I'd sell my soul for a meager bit of conversation. But that's my own problem - a "be careful what you wish for-you just might get it" situation. All I know is that I'm dreading another weekend where I spent two hours out at the Charlest Towne Landing and the other 46 alternating between twidling my thumbs and wanting to pull my hair out. Plus side is though - I asked at work and dyeing my hair a different color (blue?) should be just fine. Maybe I'll have something to do after all!
Oy-vey. Sorry about all of the Jotts, but I had to stay connected somehow. Yesterday was an interesting day. It was girls' night, and Becca and I already had planned to meet as soon as she got home with Connor so she could show me where to pick him up and drop him off after school. About three-o-clock that afternoon, Becca called me and asked me what I was doing. "Readin' a book," I said, to which she replied, "How'd you like to do that on my couch?." It turns out that Connor's day care was closed and on vacation this week, so when Becca went to drop him off on Tuesday...nobody was home. She had to go back to work, which left her in a quandary, but since I was free, I was happy to help out. Connor and I hung out until Becca got off work, and then we three drove around to make sure I knew where everything was, and to make sure that Connor knew what Izzy (my car, remember?) looked like. Then we had girls' night and that was a lot of fun - getting to see Libby and especially Kim. I didn't get home until well after my bedtime, as it was pointed out (like Cinderella couldn't tell, hm? =D)
So today, I was waiting with Izzy on the corner of Mepkin and Boone Hall Rd, and there goes Connor's bus, right past me and down the road without stopping. Ummm...? So I put Izzy in gear and sped off down the road following the bus. The bus eventually went back to the original stop and I pulled up beside it and spoke to the driver. She was very nice and said that Connor kept going on about a silver focus waiting on him, and when she passed me before, he said that it wasn't me and didn't get off. Anyway, the situation has been rectified and he and I are currently chilling at Becca's house. Becca told me to make myself at home, and that I could use her internet...could I resist? So here I am, and here I'll be until Becca gets home. After that, I'm not sure what I'll do - my evening is wide open, and I don't feel like going to bed on time tonight, either.
That reeks of petulance, and speaking of reeking...when I got to work today, the hallways smelled like poo. I guess bioassay (who runs all sorts of tests on the chocolatey-browness) is having a field day or something. Mary, one of the team leaders, had me afraid yesterday because she told us that last week, we did x amount of dollars in sample receipts...translation: we received twice as many samples in that one week as any other week in GEL's entire history. That means that this week and the weeks following will be slammed with samples needing testing. We were all encouraged to work 45-hour or more weeks, and all that jazz - but here's the kicker: I checked my fraction status report this morning, and I'm three batches away from being golden through Labor day. Three batches! That can be done in one day, maybe two. I worked on seven batches today, so I'm not worried about the future. Much. As long as I keep my nose to the grindstone, all should work out well.
But this morning was funny because Mel, who normally gets there at about 7, came in all bright and cheery, and then - for no apparent reason at all and with all of the determination in the world - opens a bag of centrifuge-tube caps and pours them all over Derek and Bethany's work area. Then she adds more, and then some C-tubes, and then (with my amused encouragement) left some funny notes and then stole the paperwork for their batches. So, Derek walks in and thinks that the girl he just broke up with (who works in the lab) did it, and while his reaction was funny, Mel couldn't keep the gag up for long. But I thought it was funny, if odd.
So I've come to realize that I am not without the Internet...I just don't have it in my apartment. Luckily, I have it in the office at Middleton Cove, and I have it here at work (via which I'm posting now). It's not so bad, but yes, it does suck. Big time. Anyway, today's gone so-so thus far, but is shaping out to be a truly bad day in the making. Surplus of sample receipts = too much overtime. I'm going to be here way late today, I can feel it. But, c'est la vie. C'est ma vie, and it's time to get back to it!
That will make him laugh! I had planned to go swimming today, but it's too rainy and overcast. Oh, well. I'd probably fall asleep anyway. Work's been really long this week - I've already got over three hours of overtime accrued and it's not even Wednesday! (3 hours isn't that much, I know, but for me...). As for my apartment, I haven't really done anything new. I got home yesterday and dove into a book, and before I knew it I was nodding off on the couch. I must make a note to get to bed earlier.
Well, not quite, but it will be soon. I LOVE my apartment! It's beautiful and spacious and wonderful. I have a ten foot ceiling in my living room, and a fire place, and a walk-in closet in the bedroom, and a porch for all of my plants. Friday, Mom, Dad, and Rob came down from NC and braved a van with no AC for seven hours to bring my all my things. Luckily, it was mostly overcast that day, so unloading my things and bringing them upstairs was fairly comfortable, except for the part about going upstairs. Later on Friday, Calvin, Kim, and Darren came over and brought the rest of the things, and brought up the big couch my parents gave me. Saturday, we got everything unpacked and somewhat organized and put away, and then we went shopping. And then we went shopping. And then we went shopping. Oy-vey. We made it to Hometeam for dinner that night and I introduced my parents to the joy of a bbq wrap. (BTW - Saturday is Brisket Night). Sunday, My parents left and Susan and I went shopping. She bought me a set of the plates I really really wanted from Target as a housewarming gift, and then we went and had dinner at her mother's (gorgeous/huge) house. What a whirlwind weekend! I'm glad the busy part is over, and now I can look forward to perfecting my apartment. I'm thinking of paint colors and poster frames and other decorative items...what fun! Thank you to everyone who helped me this weekend - I really, really appreciated your help. If anyone wants a free home-cooked dinner and/or swim, just let me know and I'll be happy to oblige you. Does it sound like I'm begging for company? Good, it was supposed to!
I don't know where this energy is coming from, but, man!, am I excited! Somewhat nervous, but more than anything...excited. Maybe I'm bi-polar (it does run in my family; seriously!) Anyway...in three days, I get to move into my very own apartment!! I can paint it any color(s) I want, and oh, boy!, do I intend to. Bordeaux Wine, Ocean Blue, Tuscan Sunrise, Key Lime...I can't wait to decide on a color scheme and start painting! I might even be getting a table and chairs from my family - the same table we used to use before we got that big cedar-wood one we have now - and I can sand this one down and paint it however I want. And I will. ! Color, color, color...I can't wait to swim in it! I may paint something calming in the bathroom, or the hallway - just to have some calmness somewhere - but as for the rest of the place - give me LIFE! Vibrancy, brillancy, energy...that's what I need in my life. Damn neutrals to the depths of Davy Jones' locker!
As for other great things about having my own place...I can go swimming when I get off work. The pool is only 4 or 5 feet deep, but at least I have access to one. I'd prefer 12ft deep, but I'm not likely to get that anywhere around here. Also, I can sing in the shower (like I do here when I think no one can hear me), and no one will be the wiser. Except y'all, since I've just told you. And I can be a complete klutz in the morning like I am every morning and not feel bad about waking anyone.
As for the downers - well...I'm not going to get to see my friends or my family nearly as much as I want to. I'm going to miss not being alone. I'm going to miss Pi and Hobbes. But as long as I can see everybody every now and then, the transition shouldn't be so hard. Once I figure out if I can afford internet, I can start writing again (if I can get past my writer's block), and appease my irate readers (if I still have any left).
Now, if only a SC DMV could take the stick out of its wazoo for five minutes to be friendly and help me register my car and get my tags, the rest of my life might be just as exciting.
Here's the trailer Warner Bro's released last week. It's awesome...it gave me goosebumps!!
http://www.imdb.com/video/imdb/vi215810329/
Guess what! Becca (not my sister, and not the one I work with) needs someone to drive her son, Connor, from school to daycare for the upcoming school year, and she asked me if I would be willing to help. Me! We're going to talk about it on Wednesday, but Wow! I can't beleive that she'd trust me with her son (not that I'm such a bad person that she shouldn't trust him with me) but...man, what an honor!
Oh, and SC DMVs suck serious ass.
