I have been packing and taking things up and down for the past 48 hours straight. Today, a cleaning service is cleaning (no kidding?) the new place and in the afternoon the second floor is getting buffed. Then tomorrow I'm packing the last minute stuff like kitchen and bathroom stuff and Wednesday the movers are taking all the heavy stuff down. Today I just have the books and DVDs and other odds and ends like the record player and printer to pack up. I've actually budgeted myself well in terms of buying new stuff and hiring people to help me out since my friends all work during the day and Elliot and my family aren't here to share the work. The new place is quite a bit bigger than my current apartment so I had to get another coffee table and couch, bed and bedside tables for the "guest" room (aka Mina and my parents' and probably Defne my cousin's room), dining room furniture, and various stuff for the three, yes you heard me, three bathrooms. I still need to get the bathroom stuff, and kitchen things because our plates and pots and pans are all wretchedly old and crappy but I'll take care of that after all the moving is done.
So everything gets moved on Wednesday, new furniture arrives Thursday and Friday, and cable and internet get connected on Thursday as well. I hope to have most everything done by Friday. Saturday I'll be taking a break to finally go to a book club meeting (I've been a member for so long and have been to maybe 2 meetings) and see some friends and hopefully next week I'll be getting pictures framed and up on the walls. That's always the most important thing for me, bare walls make me anxious. When all my artwork and posters are up, I immediately feel like I live there. All the furniture I got is pretty classic, it's the rugs and artwork that add all the color and make it more, "me." I hope I can make this new place as homey as my apartment. This apartment has been my favorite home in Boston. It always made me happy to come back to it and I'm kind of nervous that the new place is so big it won't have the same charm. I was going to leave all the decorating stuff until the end but I picked up a few pieces as I ran across them.
My current rug I love. I got another one because the new living room is huge.
This is for the second floor. It's not a floor so much as a loft space with a couple storage rooms and a bathroom. It would make a good "office" and rugs make empty spaces work.
Bedding for the guest bedroom. I always secretly loved this pattern but didn't really want it for myself so an extra bedroom provided the excuse.
This is for my room since my old duvet cover is really old and needs to be replaced. It's constellations and the reverse side is grey with white stars. I'm a nerd yes.
Nothing makes me calmer than lots of light. New Buddha lamp for my bedroom since I never had a bedside lamp in the old place.
Generally, I don't like bean bag chairs. But the splashes of color made this one kind of stand out. Plus, more sitting places are always welcome since we like to gather all our friends when we hang out with them.
I've also applied for three more jobs and am waiting to hear from them. Of course, in our non-responsive age I haven't received anything back but I'm giving it until Wednesday before I do any follow-up emails. One of the jobs was a part-time Marketing Assistant for a "spiritual" books publishing house and though it's a different job than I've applied to in the past, it sounds like it could be fun and a good experience so I'm really hoping to hear from them, as well as a pretty big name publishing house my friend tipped me off that had an opening for an editorial assistant. Augh, I'm intelligent, capable, and can do everything these jobs require (be organized? I make lists of my lists for crying out loud) but I just need them to crack open the door so I can wedge myself in.
Tomorrow, the new Iron Maiden record comes out but I got to listen to it a week ago and review it. It's Iron Maiden Sucks! day on MetalSucks tomorrow so all Maiden articles and reviews, all day. I contributed another piece about possible artwork Iron Maiden should use (the current one is their mascot, Eddie, in space. The artist is a different one than usual so it looks a little odd and there's been quite a lot of controversy over it. My ideas? Well, Sultan Eddie and Maharaja Eddie are among the many.
Going to so many doctors means filling out so many information forms. I have no idea what to put in the occupation section. I don't really have one. I have a pitifully small paying job that apparently has forgotten I exist and I can't very well put them down (and I don't know how I'd translate it to Turkish) and it's been a year now since I've finished grad school so I can't say student and have the easy way out. So I put "writer" and grimace every. Single. Time. I can't even write writer without cringing and half-expecting alarm bells to go off along with a booming voice chanting, "Liar, liar, fake, fake, liar, fake, fa-" you get the idea. So in order to feel less like a fraud, I invite you over to MetalSucks where my third piece is out (I guess technically fourth because although the editor wrote about Phil Collen from Def Leppard's new marriage, I tipped him off!) and it's The Ten Best Hair Metal Band Names.
I'm kind of proud of how quickly I got over having any sort of reaction to comments. I usually take things to heart, hard. So, praise makes me feel almost stupidly happy and stays with me forever (like one nice commenter saying a certain description had him falling out of his chair laughing) and criticism kind of punches me in the throat and haunts me even longer (a certain professors comments on a short story I wrote my junior year come to mind). Now, it's more like a feeling of disappointment that people can be that stupid. My boyfriend forwarded me this cartoon and it couldn't be illustrated any better. Though, I have a winner for favorite comment. It's hair metal week at MetalSucks and of course, there are the people who get all self-righteously angry and call it an abomination and blame it for sullying the good name of metal. No darlings, it's you who give metal, and metal fans a bad name. Not Bon Jovi ("shot through the heart and you're to blame..."). There's an ongoing countdown of bands that commonly get miscategorized as hair metal and Quiet Riot were on that list. I included them on my best hair band names but my introduction clearly stated that I borrowed bands that probably weren't strictly glam bands because for God's sake, have you ever heard their names? They are not good my friends, not good at all (this list highlights that). So of course the first comment was, "They're miscategorized as hair metal but have the best hair metal name?'
Argh.
But hold up. Sweet vindication came in the form of a comment back. It was something along the lines of, "Dude, it's two different writers. There isnt just one person called MetalSucks." Yeeees. There you have it. Different people, diffferent opinions. This is why we are not all clones of one another; we have separate brains and views. How hard is that to get really? My favorites are the ones that insult the site and say they can't believe they still read it. My good sir, it's a free site that has original, entertaining, and often informative content. It doesn't cater mainly to you and no one is forcing you to read it but of course you'll continue and it'll be for those very same reasons, as well as the fact you think someone will read your comments. Well, I did so I guess you win but let's not go there. People are so dim sometimes. Alice Cooper might not be glam but Trash is the very definition of a glam album so it makes sense it should be on the "Ten Best Must Have Glam Metal Albums." A musician or band doesn't have to be of a certain genre to put out an album within it. There's no point in trying to explain these things or comment back so I think it's a healthier alternative to take out my frustration on here. It's like when you meet a dangerous animal in the wild; DO NOT ENGAGE.
But I don't care what you think heavy metal elitists, hair metal rules! Long live glam! This was a t-shirt on Threadless but I can't remember to whom credit belongs. I have the Turkish rip-off of it.
Did I mention, I'm seeing KISS in August? Oh yeah.
Hahahaha, oh man I just got a pretty smart bitch-slap from reality.
I used to write for a bunch of music sites, mostly metal, and then I stopped. Lately, I kind of missed it so I sent an email off to a site that I thought would best fit me. I've talked about Metal Sludge and how much I used to love it, and Metal Sucks (www.metalsucks.net) is pretty much in the same vein. Brash, outspoken commentary and opinions on everything. They liked my stuff and assigned me my first review today and I was pleasantly surprised. Most of the stuff I get to review blows. I actually liked this album and said as much. Well, this site enables people to comment and maaaan did I cause an uproar. Okay, slight exaggeration but there was some attitude. I think all the comments so far were damning me, and the site via me, for having such awful taste and touting it as quality. Probably didn't help that there's a banner advertising said band over the review.
I was kind of caught off-guard and was all set to be upset but then, come on it's a review! It's one person's opinion on a subject. It's not the word of all truth and goodness and of course there will be people who disagree. The ones who do will be the ones speaking up and making a fuss because haha, that's what I would do and have! Also, judging by the overall theme of the comments, I don't think they really got my tone. Oh well, boys are dense.
At least I know people are reading, I was never too sure of that any place else. And if I may indulge myself, I'm the one who gets to write and be published, not you, puny metal fans!
Bahahaha.
Here's the link, have at me. Oh and all the writers' names are silly puns and play-ons of rock stars and I chose Leyla Ford. Both keeping my name and giving a nod to Ms. Lita Ford from The Runaways (and later solo stuff that was kind of meh).
This post's crabbiness is brought to you by the '90s wonder that is Ugly Kid Joe's, "Everything About You." Did you know their name spoofs another one of my bands'; Pretty Boy Floyd. Fun facts are fun.
The subject of my annoyance today is etiquette. No, I am not a 90 year old woman sipping tea with my pinky finger sticking out. Nor am I a finishing school graduate because, let's face it, if I were I wouldn't swear so much in these posts. But I have a bone to pick with certain people and I assure you, manners are not subject to just the elderly or the fussy.
Texting, Blackberry messaging, emailing, cell phones, actual phones, and even regular mail, are all there for us to keep in contact. Not to mention, we have instant messaging, skyping, and God forbid we use this last, desperate measure; actually talking to people. These sources are all there so that we can remain part of what we see as the "civilized" world all the time. You can access the Internet on planes now because of those certain individuals whose precious lives are too important for them to turn off their cellphones for even the duration of a flight. I have no problem with any of these (except, come on jackass businessman, just switch. It. Off. It's not hard and I have enough paranoia about flying and dying without your added wireless interference. Believe me, most of you are probably so uptight, no one really misses your absence anyway so just hit that button and give everyone, including the phone and me, some peace) especially since I'm so averse to talking to people, I'd rather contact them via writing via any of the above sources rather than actually call them.
But when you have access to these controls, you have a responsibility to the people you surround yourself with. What, I ask you, what is the point of having ten thousand ways of staying in contact when you can't even bother to do the oh-so-hard task of pressing a button to either pick up or reply? What's the point of getting the latest in obnoxiously multi-functioning hardware when you don't USE it for the basic, simple function it was made in the first place; contact. Okay, it's understandable if not everyone picks up on the first ring. I'm by no means a cell phone saint as I more often forget to take it with me when I go out than not. And yes, some people are considerate and put their phones on vibrate so maybe while trying to appease the general world around them, they don't hear it. Sometimes it's even better to have a small, unnoticeable vibration rather than a squawking, high-pitched version of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles theme blasting until you finally find the phone, which will undoubtedly be in the last place you look; the pocket in bags which are designated for cell phones. However, guess what? Modern technology is so on top of their game, they have a solution for this! It's called the missed call. So even if you do, despite your best efforts, miss a certain someone getting in contact with you, there's evidence that it happened. This is where your responsibility comes into play. Return the call, you inconsiderate jerk.
My grandmother calls me fairly often when I'm in the States. Sometimes, since she has weird sleeping hours too, it comes pretty late and if I miss it, I don't call her back. Why? Because we have seven time zones between us and oh, I don't know maybe it would be better if she were sleeping at 5 am rather than fumbling around for a phone. But I call back the next day. I love my family and I am diligent about staying in touch with them. Not because I have to, but because I want to. Okay, some of us might be functioning on a different plane and not give a damn what the other is doing. That's their business but even then, if I call them or text them they owe it to me to write back. Yes they do, they owe me that much. It's the same with friends and work too. If someone goes out of their way to do something for you, because face it, contact is as much for you as for those who're trying to contact you, you owe it to them to speak up or provide something in return. This is how society works. These are just the simple, unspoken rules you should know and abide by and if you don't want to, well there's the door. Don't expect anyone to do anything for you when you cut yourself off, seal yourself from the world and from the simple human need to know how their loved ones are doing.
I think emails are the bane of my "work" life. So to speak, as I don't have much of one. Everything that I've had to do outside work for, either paying or non-paying, has been through email. I've had one in-person interview and about 4 over the phone and the rest have all been through emails. Which brings me to my current pickle. Emails are possibly the quickest, easiest, and laziest way you can contact someone. They're supposed to be a relief but noooo. Apparently, even that is too hard for the modern, working person. I've had to figure out, on my own, at least three times when people no longer needed my services when they just stopped emailing me. Hey, you know how you could've avoided all those politely professonal, and one actually concerned for the well-being of the party involved, emails? By WRITING BACK. Say no, say go away, hell, say fuck off we don't want you or like you. Too long? Too much effort? Write BYE as the subject heading and be done with it! There is no need to drag something out and play games with someone's mind and hopes (especially mine because I am a delicate flower) when you can spend literally 15 seconds or less to cut them off.
I admit, I have days when I don't want to talk to someone. Or see them. So I avoid things. But I don't let that go for more than a day or two as it is rude. I was raised better than that and I have trouble believing people older than I am weren't. Okay, so if you're my age or younger shame on your parents true, but shame on you too. It's common courtesy to return a call, to inquire how someone is, to check in with family, to answer a question. Couldn't you have figured that out without being taught manners and courtesy? I'm not asking you to get your elbows off the table or to open the car door for a lady, it's replying and using the many available methods you have at your disposal to simply hold up your end of the contact contract. You're human, you should know this. I'm not asking for a lot here, am I? It's not like I'm getting mad at my cat for not sending me a thank you card every time I get her food, I'm just requesting a place that's looking for work to reply back when I'm actually willing to provide them with what they requested. Do you even consider how unprofessional that makes you look?
Putting aside the business and professional side of this, what about the people you know? Friends and family? "I'm bad at staying in contact," just doesn't fly anymore. It's one thing if you don't want to do it. Fine. I accept that. I don't either. We don't have to, "stay in touch," and just see each other when we do. That's absolutely fine, some people or relationships, just function that way. My best friends and I see each other twice a year, at most and we talk to each other every few weeks or so. But hey, guess what? When I text them something that requires a response or vice versa, we follow through! Why? No, not because we're friends, it's SIMPLE HUMAN DECENCY TO BE POLITE AND TO RETURN A CALL OR A MESSAGE WHEN SOMEONE IS ACTIVELY SEEKING YOU OUT AND CAN'T REACH YOU. Your super-cool, does-everything phone means jackshit to me if you can't use it properly, in terms of replying to something or confirming something or just reassuring me that you're still alive.
I'm going to sit here and fume until you write back, certain place I've applied to. And if you don't within a week I will be going CAPS LOCK ON YOUR ASS. No, I won't but it's nice to dream.
Why is it that whenever I got really, really excited about something and envision futures of delight and happiness, it blows up in my face?
Take my first internship at CNN Türk. I was supposed to be interning at the arts & entertainment department of the channel, a program called Afiş, at CNN! Just, Turkish. So I showed up the first day and they parked me in front of a computer and I...spent about 8 hours on Facebook. And the next day too. Finally, I started bringing in books to read and I went through about 5 books in 3 days. Oh, they didn't leave me completely hanging though, oh no. I got to translate a one paragraph article from English to Turkish about the Black Eyed Peas performing for Nelson Mandela on his birthday. Except I had to email it to my mom to correctit before I turned it in because fuck if I know Turkish grammar, I never went to Turkish school, I don't read enough Turkish books, I never learned any of that! They also took me on two shoots, each one to film the intro of a segment within the show. I got to... stand to the side and watch a heavily made-up woman talk and then get barked at by the bad-tempered camera guy. I even shamelessly played the grandpa card. I NEVER play the family name card but finally I was so frustrated I started bringing in my grandfather's autobiography (which at the time I was translating into English, another project of mine that sputtered out and probably is no longer needed, not that I was doing a good job anyway) to work on and people noticed who it was and asked who I was. But then went back to ignoring me. Finally, I just quit. What was supposed to be a month-long internship ended up being a week and a half of the most mental frustration I've ever had to deal with. I was told to come in on a Saturday too once because they were covering a country-wide exam but did they tell me where? NOOOO. So I showed up at a completely empty office at 9 in the morning on a Saturday. Yes, maybe I should've checked and made sure where I was supposed to be, they said they were short of people, and this made me feel slightly guilty. But why should it? I know I was a lowly intern but for fuck's sake treat me at least like a human. I didn't even get to photocopy papers of fetch coffee.
Then let's see, there were all my music writing jobs. Oh I talk the big talk on how I got to interview some of my favorite bands and review records and get published. Big fucking whoop. I got to interview two bands that I actually liked, one which was with Hardcore Superstar who are pretty much my favorite band, but even that has a sour edge to it because their representation was so scatter-brained they stood me up twice on phone interviews (one on my BIRTHDAY) and I had to end up emailing them my questions. I got no money, barely any credit, and the very first online magazine I worked (who, I might mention, looooved me during my interview with them esp) for edited my stuff so much that I had to re-write everything twice or more just so I could at least have my words published. This from the people who emailed me to ask me to interview because my cover letter stood out from all the others because of my "voice." Not to mention, three, yes THREE, separate websites stopped responding to me and posting my articles and thereby letting me know my services were no longer needed in the most passive, unprofessional way ever. One website which at first was so into me they gave me my own column. What the fuck, are we in high school? Are you breaking up with me and ignoring my emails and texts? Just tell me straight out, I'm a big girl I can understand if you no longer want or need me to write for you. Haha oh and there was that other one where the guy I reported to hit on me via an email.
Which brings me to the latest thing. This internship turned part-time job. When I was interning for this literary agency, they sent me 22 books and scripts in 3 months to do in record time. I was so excited that I got the internship without having to stay in LA that I was happy to do it and I sincerely was. I'm good at what I do and I do it well. I don't sacrifice quality for speed, I can handle both. They realized this and actually kept me on after the internship ended as a paid reader. But now, I have received three books in two months. And they have not answered any recent emails.
Like I said, I get so, so nerdily dorkily excited when I get these opportunities. Hooray, someone likes what I can do and wants it! But then it just blows up in my face and I end up sitting up, waaaay past regular bedtimes ranting and raving and fuming and bitching and writing entries that are better suited for a middle school Livejournal than a grown-up blog. I understand having to pay dues and not getting things handed to me but I try! I would like something back for all the effort. It's frustrating, it makes my brain and heart hurt, and it makes me paranoid about my abilities and the fact that maybe I'm disappointing everyone around me. Screw it, I'm going to look at things that make me happy. And hug my cat. She has her butt pressed up next to me and is snoring so sweetly.
Credit goes to the beautiful, creative blogs I follow, all listed on the right.
