Some cluttered crap I had to bring home today.
1. Jogging miscommunication. Though I apologized and didn’t insist on anything, I’m fairly sure my friend said to meet at the City Hall train station. But I also understood that it was only going to be us two going up to Central Park. Instead, her coworker came along as well, whom I have a growing abhorrence for. That explains why she was at the Fulton Station, but still, I don’t think I was told about the change.
2. Couldn’t go home right after jogging. My father’s younger brother – if only English had terminology that differentiated relatives with a single word like Chinese does – called me up, frantic and anxious. He said he really needed help, everything was going wrong with the computers at his house and I had to fix it NOW. Both he and his wife’s livelihoods depend on it (maybe not so much hers, but his definitely). So I spent the whole day in my skin-tight compression capri leggings and oversized NY Giants shirt.
3. I smelled really bad. Another issue with not being able to go home right away….I didn’t get to shower. From 11am to 8pm, I smelled really bad from all that sweat that got trapped between my bra, my shirt, and my sweatshirt. The worse thing is that the person I know with the best sense of smell is myself…and I couldn’t get away with myself. Contrary to popular belief on smells, I was unable to “get used to it” and stop smelling it. As soon as I got home today, I ran for the shower.
4. Cramps. They’ve plagued me, on and off, for the entire week. But as soon as I got to Flushing, I went to the bathroom and found….surprise surprise…my period is here 3 days early! Does this make up for being 5 days late last cycle? I opened all the bathroom cabinets and drawers, but no pads or tampons could be found. Keep in mind that I came straight to Queens after jogging in Central Park, meaning all I had on me were house keys, cellphone, credit card and MetroCard. Oh, and my driver’s license, so my body can be ID’ed alive or dead. Usually I would have my big leather purse with me, which never leaves home without 3 pads, 3 tampons, and 3 panty liners. My emergency precautions were USELESS. Now this is also something I’ll never understand about other people’s houses….and it deserves a diversion.
I am no stranger to that emergency situation where your period arrives (early or late) and you do not have any kind of menstrual stopper thing on you. There’s a reason my purse usually has 3 of each item instead of just one. If you’re at work, ok…maybe you can dash to the pharmacy. Maybe there’s someone there to ask. But other times you’re in someone’s house, and for some reason you are too ashamed to go outside and ask for a tampon. It’s almost always when there’s tons of other people over, people you’re not that close with, and you don’t want them overhearing. So you open all the drawers and cabinets in the bathroom, you even check under the sink, in search of an emergency pad.
And you find….
This is when you wonder if your female friend is indeed a female. Maybe she’s an XY who just happened to develop womanly looks and a shallow vagina (that doesn’t connect to a uterus). It’s not impossible, statistically. But I doubt every female friend of mine is an XY…
Then you wonder, where can she possibly stash it? Seriously, where do other women keep their sanitary napkins or whatever? Is it always in their room, so they dab themselves with a wad of toilet paper and then make a run for it? Or maybe everyone is SO on schedule with their cycle that they never have red surprises. They check their calendar, see that it’s today, and pluck a tampon from a hidden bouquet in their room and go to the bathroom with it.
I feel like I’m the only person who keeps tampons, pads, and panty liners IN the bathroom itself. It’s in a nice box that you can’t see in to, and that’s where it is. If you need it, you take one. If you’re a guy or you’re for some reason offended by things that soak up human blood for hours at a time, then you don’t see it unless you open the box. And then it’s your own fault for snooping in someone else’s bathroom.
So anyway…back to my father’s younger brother’s house in Flushing….I couldn’t find anything to use. His wife is pretty young…but I guess she only LOOKS young. Maybe she’s already hit menopause and doesn’t need tampons anymore. I decided that was the answer, and started rolling a giant, makeshift pad out of toilet paper. At least it’s only the first day. It won’t be TOO bad.
Oh yeah, another thing I don’t like about other people’s bathrooms. A lot of people don’t have waste baskets in their bathroom. Why? What do you do with the tissues you use when you wipe after peeing? Am I the only person who doesn’t like to throw tons of toilet paper in the toilet if I can avoid it..? It doesn’t have to be a giant, kitchen-sized trash can…just a small one…and what do they do with their used tampons and stuff? Do they take it out and then hold it, dangling, all the way to the kitchen? Or not even the tampon itself but the wrapping. Do people just crumple it in to a tiny ball, and hold it hidden in their fist till they get to the kitchen? So many questions, but no one to answer!
5. Fixing Old Computers. The internet was an easy fix, all I had to do was reset the modem, then swap around the ethernet wires so the wireless router could broadcast. Changed the wireless password to something the tenants could remember. It was easy, till I had to install drivers on 4 old computers and get them to work, plus have all the same files on all of them. But why? What do you need this many computers for? It’s just clutter. They don’t even use all of them. It’s stupid. And every computer has a different OS on it, so I have to figure out how to get things to work on each individual computer. It’s not like being a lab assistant at school, where you service 30 machines…BUT all 30 are exactly the same, with the same software and versions and everything. So you figure out one, you’ve already figured out all of them. Not so with random old computers.
6. I can’t understand what he wants. My uncle is not just computer illiterate but electronic illiterate. He kept interchanging the words iPad, iPhone, and iPod. He keeps calling a MacBook Pro an iBook, but that’s so year 2000…hahaha. He kept asking whether I could put CD’s for language training on an iPod. My go to answer is now “I’ll have to see.” Reminds me of what happens to parents with yappy little kids. “Maybe later, maybe later. Ask you’re dad. We’ll see.” So that means I have a big plastic tub full of books and CDs (see picture at top of post) which I’ll have to transfer to an iPhone/iPod/iPad. I am unsure whether he’s more suited to an old iPod Video or the iPod Touch. Or a 3G iPhone. Which is very dirty because it came from my sister’s apartment.
7. Stress of being in a hoarder’s house. There isn’t really a way to describe what this is like unless you experience it yourself. And hopefully, you won’t have to experience it. My dad and his brother are hoarders, and it’s absolutely maddening. Every step you take has to be taken with care. You must look, feel, check if the area is safe to tread upon. Check if there’s anything you’re gonna knock over if you traverse forwards, cuz it’s gonna create a domino effect if you do. There aren’t any table surfaces for you to write on, to eat on, or put the keyboard on. I would mostly put a laptop on my chair and then squat on the floor. So my feet were my chair and the chair was my table. On one of the computers, it was hooked up to the television and the keyboard and mouse were on the sofa. Do I need to tell anyone why that would be an annoying place to have a keyboard and an optical mouse?!
8. I couldn’t go home. At 6pm, I urged him to take me home, and he spent half an hour gathering together bags of stuff for me to take with me. Which is nice of him in a way….he’s giving me bags full of food. BUT. Why is there so much food to give to me? It’s not just generosity….it is again because he is a HOARDER. So i got this 2lb block of Cabot Cheddar Cheese. I been wanting some anyway, but 2lb? I doubt I can finish it before mold eats it. They gave me an entire block of it, sealed, so this tells me they have another block of 2lb Cheddar Cheese in their fridge. Two entire meals of pork chops, short ribs, a big thing of rice, fried shrimp, and some stir fried beef with peppers and onions. Some salty radish soup (I like that stuff) in a styrofoam cup. 36 eggs. Roughly 6lb of chocolate – half sugar free, half regular. It sorta works out in that Hurricane Sandy is coming…so now I don’t need to stock up on anything. We already boiled a bunch of eggs here for hurricane snacks. On regular days they are merely just snacks.
After the stuff was gathered and shuttled to the car, I wedged myself in to the back seat. What sucks about an FJ Cruiser is that you can’t open the back doors unless you open the front doors. There’s not much space there because again, my dad’s brother is a hoarder, and there is a pile of trash there. I tried to throw it out earlier today, but he yelled at me. Said he needs it. Some of them were empty soda cups, which he refills at Costco. He can’t really see in to the rear mirror either, because the trunk is piled all the way up with STUFF. I don’t know what that stuff is. Somehow we shoved everything in to the car, and drove on.
Once we hit Chinatown, my uncle made a stop at his “friend’s” place. I don’t like this guy, T, and I think he’s really shady and selfish. T runs a printing shop and owed my uncle money. Instead of paying him money, he gave him a MacBook Pro. I checked it out, early 2011, has Lion installed, 8GB RAM total (2 x 4gb). T claims that it has over $10,000 worth of programs installed on it, which is way better than the $2000 he owed my uncle. But come on. This laptop cost like $1500 probably, if we were to buy it, and he didn’t pay a CENT for the programs he’s talking about. So T isn’t losing $10k by giving it to us. Besides, it’s just Adobe CS6 and Lighroom, along with stuff no one uses – Aperture, Motion. Final Cut Pro is there, but none of us are editors, come on. It’s not tempting if it’s not something I have a use for. T is always doing that, playing himself up to be a big shot. Oh look at me, I’m so generous, I’m not giving you $2000 I’m giving you $10,000!!! Yeah, right. You gave my uncle $1500 in the form of a USED laptop. You didn’t even clear out all your stuff on it since you were in such a hurry to toss this thing. In the end, you still stiffed my uncle $500, T.
9. Uncle and his wife fighting the whole time. They’re okay almost anywhere, and the two actually enjoy each other’s company. UNTIL THEY GET IN TO THE SAME CAR. She is a back-seat driver, the noisiest kind, even though she doesn’t have a driver’s license. My uncle is a terrible driver. He drives slow, he doesn’t pay attention to lights, he doesn’t signal. He’s in a giant, heavy car. At every intersection, it’s “TING!” (“Stop” in Chinese). She’ll shout it over and over till he actually stops. Green light, immediately she starts yellow “ZOU YAAAA”, go forward. If we’re queueing up for a left turn, she’ll badger my uncle to move up move up move up, so that there’s never more than half a car’s distance between us and the front car’s bumper. I understand that she doesn’t want someone from another lane to cut in, but oh man, it gets annoying to hear her shout at everything. Oh yeah, and when she’s mad, she’ll copy the last thing he said and say NA LI ___. Like if he says X, she’ll say NA LI X??? Over and over, Na li, na li, na li. It’s like saying “What are you talking about?” in a rather demeaning way.
10. It’s Halloween. I have no costume, except my sister’s old Peep costume from 3 years ago. She’s having a party and really wants me to come…but honestly….I don’t really know her friends. Some of them I know from work, but that’s like 3 or 4 people maybe. So I could talk to them for 15 minutes or so, then feel awkward once I’ve run out of things for us to talk about. I’m behind on TV shows, so I can’t say anything on that. My small talk pool is shrinking. I’m too tired to go. That’s what it boils down to. It would have been nice, though, to take some photos of people in costumes. Perhaps next year.