The Judging Man with the Ponytail

I work in a curious little basement office. While my archive is on one side of this sprawling matrix of confusing hallways, another group works at the opposite corner. I've never known what this collection of men does. I think, perhaps, something to do with tech. It's never been explained to me. Their hallway is, however, an obstical I need to overcome each time I use the restroom, which unfortunately resides on the other side of their offices. And here is another problem, I pee a lot.

Yes, over-share, I know, sorry. But it's true. It's always been true. I'm a hydrated little lady and if that means peeing 14 times a day I will gladly do so. That is, before I was so totally noticed and judged each time. Because my office is fra-fra-freeeeezing I wear the same black Columbia fleece everyday. It stays at my desk and welcomes my cold, cold body each morning. Because of this, I am much like a cartoon character. Whatever day it is, I basically look like I'm wearing the same thing. This makes me very noticeable to the men who monitor me walking down the long hallway, much like a walk of shame, to the restroom every hour.

Each man works with his door open, each looks up from his computer as I walk by. But the man with the ponytail, whose office oh-so-sadly resides in that sad space between the men's and women's restrooms (how does that even happen!) he notices the most. He looks up and he judges me, each.time. He looks at me as if to say, "you're peeing again?" And I return a look that says, "you're office is next to the restroom, what do you even do!"

I see him sometimes when I walk around outside or am coming to work, and his looks says, "you're that girl, that girl that pees all the time." And my look says, "your pony tail is much much longer than I thought it was now that I see it in the daylight and not in the shadows of your basement bathroom office."

Seven Facts (Other Than The Fact That I Could Not Develop An Original Blog Post Today)

A week or so ago, City Dreamer at City Dreams, Suburban Schemes tagged all her readers in a 7 Facts post. Having just returned from Florida and in no shape whatsoever to be in the least bit creative or interesting today, I've decided to go ahead and provide you with six facts (I know the rules, but I don't like odd numbers, and you can count that fact towards the seventh I've deleted) about myself in lieu of actually being original.

Fact Number One.

I eat popcorn with a spoon. It's true. For whatever reason, either I don't like to touch it or I've found it more effective to eat with a spoon. Either way, even in movie theaters I order my popcorn with a side of plastic cutlery.

Fact Number Two.

I married the love of my life in October, on the same day that Katy Perry married Russell Brand, thus linking us with these celebrities for life (or as long as they're married; side fact: I secretly love them and hope those crazy kids make it.)

Fact Number Three.

I suffered from Nephritis as a child, which in the States is very rare. It's an auto-immune disorder which attacks the kidneys. Because of it I've never been what you may call robust and often am the first person in a group to come down with any type of garden variety illness (ie: flu, cold, ect.)

Fact Number Four.

I clean my nails every night, sometimes twice a night. This is obsessive, but hey, we all have a little OCD. At least mine keeps my nails looking sparkly and clean. I think it stems from my mother. She hated when our nails were dirty and would clean them out in a really, really painful way (to my six year old self anyway) which kept me pretty much on top of cleaning them myself. I even have a nail brush which I use in the shower.

Fact Number Five.

I drive a Jeep Grand Cherokee which was given to me as a wedding gift from my in-laws. Sometimes it makes me feel like I owe them big, obligated, ect.

Fact Number Six.

I had to inventory my clothing and accessories for a collection management project while in graduate school and was shamed in front of my fellow students to reveal the numbers of each category. I had something like 17 blazers and 42 pairs of jeans. It's my own version of hedonism and it's horrible. I'm not as bad anymore, but stopping my shopping addiction has not depleted my current collection, just maintained it as it's already above ridiculous levels.

Happy Monday. If you've not been tagged in this little exercise, then I tag you now. Go forth and reveal.

Welcome Back

That song has been stuck in my head for the past couple days, "Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back." And it's true, I'm back. Not so much as defunct as before, depending at how you look at it. I've returned to my previous employer in university city, back to museum work, stretching my brain and attempting to remember how to function in the working world.

I do miss going to TJ Maxx whenever I want. But the benefits far outweigh the downsides. Benefits: I get to work, function in the world, collaborate with people, contribute to an exhibition in a curitorial role of sorts once more. Downsides: I have to drive in with The Professor about 1.5 hours each day each way (not that being with The Professor is a downside, far from it, but the drive does suck hard,) the job is not exactly what I wanted (more research assistant than bad ass curator,) I work mainly in a room alone for most the day, I have far less (read: no) free time anymore due to the lengthy drive in and out, it's only temporary thus we can't stop our holding pattern and move on to the next phase of our lives. So still holding, but the landing gear may be coming out just a bit.

And I'm still a bit defunct. Yesterday I could not remember simple words and had problems drafting simple, short object labels, a task I used to be able to complete in my sleep. Apparently my brain has been buried deep beneath watching too many reruns of Grey's Anatomy and reading cookbooks all in between napping and taking random photos of my cats. I really needed to get back to work.

Another plus is I'm able to commit to this project just one month at a time, which means the search for real, fulfilling employment is still on. After about 58 cover letters and rejections I still hold out hope that not all is lost. I could even be coming to a city near you!

Rain, Rain.

It’s raining in Georgia. This makes lake living slightly more depressing than it already was. But today I put on my happy face and my cute black boots and went “into town” to start volunteering for a local community arts organization. On top of that I took a part time job in the university city where The Professor works. I’ll be doing curatorial work, so now I’m only partially defunct. While it rains outside, my outlook is getting a bit brighter.

On another note, I’m getting a bit more used to driving out here in the middle of nowhere. There is this little cultural wave I’ve picked up. I suppose it comes from there being so few vehicles on any given road at any given time, but drivers passing each other lift their hand up ever so slightly from the wheel to greet one another. It’s adorable. I participate frequently.

Another thing I noticed today while driving around is something I’ve been suspecting for a while. People around here (and I don’t want to generalize the whole South because I’ve only studied this small area) don’t tend to put their headlights on during rain or inclement weather. I noticed it bit by bit, and have commented on it to The Professor before. But with the downpour we got today, it was really noticeable, almost every other car was without headlights.

Regardless, I found a dive Jamaican place, got some chicken and plantains and headed on home to my sick Professor who stayed home today.

Don’t Leave the House Without…

Today was Tuesday, and being Tuesday I went into the university city of my beloved Professor. I do this every Tuesday, it’s a great, scheduled reason to leave the house. I go to cafes, I drink expensive tea, I read, I walk, I do all the things I can’t do at the cottage (all things legal, anyway). Therefore I don’t usually post on Tuesdays.

However, I was excited to be tagged in this post by City Dreamer. I was excited because it allowed me to answer the question, what don’t you leave home without, which I’ve actually never really pondered before, and also because I’m glad people are actually finding this blog project of mine. Excitement.

So, what five things can’t I leave home without. My purse is HUGE (notice the quarter added for scale). I pulled it out to try to figure out what exactly I haul around with me all the time. Here is what I came up with.

1. Vaseline lip balm in rosy lips. Here is why I can’t leave home without this fantastic little product: I.Love.It.Hard. I discovered it in a Boots while living in England, fell in love at first dab, and have never looked back. It is rose flavored, has a slight pink hue, and reminds me of England. I actually forgot to buy a reserve before moving and had an English friend shamelessly bring me about 10 tins to my wedding. Score.

2. A book. I know it seems cliché, but one reason my bag is so big is that I’m a bibliophile and need the comfort of knowing there is always a good read within reach. Currently I’m reading Georgiana and plan to blog about the connections between today’s female relationships and those back in Georgiana’s late 18th century. (nerd alert)

 

 

 

3. My phone. Doesn’t everyone have their phones strapped on them at all times? Well this was not always the case for me. Before The Professor and I started a long-distance relationship I never carried a phone with me. Now I always have it, but most likely have put it on silent on accident and will never hear your call. I’m also very, very new to smart phones and am still learning how to use mine.

4. Anti-bacterial hand gel. Because the world is dirty. Enough said. I’m currently using this Avon gel I got for Christmas.

5. A hair ribbon and bobby pins. I usually have a few ribbons, always one in black, usually one in brown, and sometimes a fun color like purple or blue. I save them from fancy gifts, or bits from craft projects. I use hair ties when I work out, but all other hair-up moments are usually supported by a ribbon. And bobby pins are a self-explanatory necessity.

Being new to the Blog world, tagging other bloggers to be included in this game may be a challenge, so I’ll pass it along to some blogs I’ve been reading lately. I’m not sure if they check out my ramblings, so we’ll see.

1. Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong @ How I Met Your Father

2. An American Girl in London

3. Allison M. @ Confessions of a Cohabitant

4. Erica @ my 3.1 journey

Thanks City Dreamer!

The Defunct Curator, or About Me

I realize I dove into this blog without really explaining anything about myself or how I found myself in such a holding pattern. I currently live in rural Georgia and sometimes wonder, how did I get here? Like that Talking Heads song, I sometimes think, this is not my house. But the cottage really is not my house. I’m squatting, along with The Professor, in a borrowed holiday home, on a lake, down two dirt roads, surrounded by trucks and semi-wild dogs, and turkey shoots. Seriously, I still don’t understand turkey shoots.

So how did I get here? It wasn’t watching the days go by, it was more a whirlwind romance, followed by a long-distance relationship, followed by moving to England, followed by the lack of a plan, no money, a wedding, and semi-settling into the non-permanent state of living in which we currently find ourselves.

After college, when everyone else was finding themselves unemployed, searching for jobs, unsure, and generally right where I’m finding myself now, I was going to graduate school and preparing for a career in the museum field, hence The Defunct Curator. A year into my degree program I met The Professor in a way that only he and I could have met, smack dab in the middle of bad timing for us both. But that’s a whole other story. After we met, it took about two days for us to fall in love, two weeks for us to decide to be together, and two months for us to see each other again. Eventually we decided on the long-distance thing for a year. During this time he decided to travel to England for his Masters program, and I decided another year apart was not so much going to work for me, and I packed my bags.

With our return to America getting closer everyday, I started applying for jobs a few months out. I had some great interviews and was a finalist for two positions, but no cigar. Upon our return to the States we had about three weeks before our wedding, every moment of which was spent preparing, organizing, making programs, tying ribbons, and experiencing multiple bridal showers and homecomings. When The Professor got a granted position at the University we came to the cottage, with the plan of me becoming employed, moving, with him eventually joining me. But it’s now been three months, and twenty applications later I’m still unemployed, still spending my time baking and not working, and still going stir crazy. Thus my holding pattern. Until the job thing is sorted, no plans can really be made, no trips organized, no escape.

I like to observe, to people-watch, to spot similarities and differences. As a New Yorker living in the South I’ve been provided with a window into a different world, one on which I hope to comment. Moving into the cottage has proven as full of antidotes as it is filled with The Professor’s family’s bits and pieces, including an elephant figurine collection that would shame Dumbo himself. While moving in I leaned into the closet and bumped my head on something, which turned out to be a rifle. Later in the week I found the bullets in the bread basket. It never ceases to be odd living amongst the things of other people, like being a piece of furniture, one more thing shoved into an already filled lake house.

What else about me? I’m neurotic, but I like to think socially-acceptably neurotic or at least I hide it well. I like to travel, I like to live in other countries, and I’m currently going through reverse culture shock. I have pets and they help keep me entertained during the long days. I like to read, love history, and appreciate a by-gone era while still maintaining an optimistic feminism (meaning I really think one day we’ll reach full equality.) My girlfriends live in the North and I miss our adventures together. I can get judgey and critical and try to keep that in check. I am crafty and I like to cook and bake. I also like to wear red lipstick, vintage styles, and bows in my hair.