Breeder’s Corner – Page 11

Hello from Philly

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Jul 092009

The Artist and I are up in Philadelphia, cozily ensconced in a very nice room at the Hilton. We had a late dinner at the hotel restaurant on the 10th floor (great view!). Now Psalgraf and I are in the Business Center hogging up their computers while we yak and don’t actually use the machines.

We took the train up, which was fun—I’d never ridden a train before. We took the subway from the train station to the hotel, then walked the last couple of blocks from the subway.

I’ve noticed The Artist has gotten protective of me in the last couple of years, as he grows more aware and responsible. Once when I was taking him to his bass lesson, I told him I was stopping at the coffee shop next door and I’d meet him at the guitar shop. He admonished me to be careful, because the coffee shop looked like kind of a rough place. It’s one of those just-off-campus coffee houses, in an old run-down building with unkempt patrons from twenty to older-than-dirt mingling with sharply-dressed business types. It does have a low-rent vibe to it, but it’s not a dive. Still, I found it sweet that he was looking out for me.

Today on the way from the subway to the hotel, we passed a couple of homeless men sleeping on the sidewalk. I noticed as we approached them, The Artist switched sides so he was walking between me and the homeless men. Looks like he’s going to be one of those big sweet guys who feels protective of the little people around him.

Tomorrow we’re going to go to the Mutter Museum, and possibly go see the Galileo exhibit at the Franklin. And the Liberty Bell. And who knows what.

Miscellany

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Jul 062009

I went to AccounTemps today to fill out tax forms and take an assessment test. I was a bit worried about the assessment test; I finished classes in December and I haven’t done anything accounting-related since. But the test was just the basics (which I guess is to be expected since I’m applying for entry-level positions), and I did the basics for two and a half years while working on the degree. Test was no problem, and I scored well above average on everything except the 10-key data entry. Since I’ve never actually learned 10-key data entry, I am not surprised by this result.

The Artist and I went out to Wake Tech last week to see his advisor and get him signed up and in the system. This afternoon we sat down and planned out his schedule of courses for the fall semester. Then we went to register for the classes.

And we were denied, because he’s still a minor. He’ll be eighteen later this month, but we want to register for these classes ASAP to make sure we get the ones he wants. I phoned and left a message with (I hope) the appropriate department, who will theoretically phone me back by tomorrow night.

One of my former instructors saw me with The Artist last week while we were getting him registered. I talked to him today while dropping off some more paperwork for the kid, and he said “I saw you out here with your brother last week.” Stupid me, I went and told him the kid was actually my son. But still, it’s kind of cool that I can apparently pass for a big sister of a high school kid.

Biohazard Zone

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Jun 222009

The Artist left on his mission trip Friday. While he’s out of town, I took the opportunity to clean out his room.

I’m sure scarybaldguy can appreciate the kind of weekend I had. He recently detoxified a teenager’s room, too. I found out why the boy has only been wearing three or four tee-shirts for the last few months of school—most of his clothes were in a big pile of random crap in the corner, and more crap had piled up in front of it so he couldn’t actually get to his clothes.

There were old food wrappers and chip bags.

There were several pieces of bread under the window.

There was black modeling clay on everything. He likes to make things out of modeling clay. It was on his books. It was on his clothes. It was on his floor.

His bed was destroyed; the mattress had collapsed and the box springs were concave. I think he must have been hurling himself into it from across the room because he couldn’t actually walk on the floor. We had to replace it.

I shoveled it all out, we replaced the mattress, and I swept and mopped the floor. I really need to patch and paint the walls, too, but I think that’s a project for another day. Now I have to put back all the stuff I didn’t actually chuck out (most of what I chucked was old papers and broken toys).

The Director spent the weekend cleaning out his room, as well. I don’t know if he was more motivated by my threat that his was next on my list, or by Alpha Geek’s bribe of a month’s worth of allowances if he got it all cleaned out, but he actually did a good job.

Alpha Geek also cleaned up his work area, which had been accumulating stuff while the giant servers of doom were blocking access to the room. Now the servers have been delivered and he can get to the walls again.

All this cleaning and rearranging was freaking Duchess out. She stood in The Director’s doorway watching him clean. She wandered through The Artist’s room, meowing anxiously at me as I sorted and scrubbed. She prowled around Alpha Geek’s area observing the proceedings. It was a lot of upheaval in an environment she’s just getting used to, and she didn’t know what to make of it.

At the end of the day I collapsed on the couch and called it quits. I glanced around and spotted Duchess, staring into Alpha Geek’s area with a worried look. Wanting to reassure her, I gave her my best imitation of a mother cat’s “come here, kitten” call.

It must have been a passable imitation; her little head swiveled around and she looked at me with the most astonished gaze. Then she ran to me and all but threw herself into my lap, purring and head-butting and kneading. We snuggled for ten or fifteen minutes. She seemed to feel much better after that.

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