Watch the ditch.

This breaks a long pattern of Friday-only posts, but I didn’t want to forget before I forgot to post.

For the first time ever, I am blogging from my room. It’s kind of cool. My dad designed my computer. It was my graduation present and the single most expensive thing they’ve ever bought me. I would have preferred to have input beyond the “okay” when he showed me what he’d ordered, but it wasn’t a big deal. As far as computers go, mine is lovely. (I used to call it Bethany, but the habit never stuck. I’m crazy enough already.) The one crucial thing it lacked was a wireless card, but my dad ordered one for me a few days ago. My mom decided I didn’t have to pay for it. Snaps for her. I would have, even though I thought my dad should have had it added when he bought it in the first place, but it’s nice of her to override him. So, I now have my computer on my desk, in my room. It’s more comfortable, and I won’t have to completely leave the room if I need something (like my library card). The downside is that it furthers my isolation. Now, the only reasons I really have for leaving my room are the bathroom (which is directly across the hall), the kitchen, the front door (which, in typical Summer!Lindsay fashion, I don’t use much), and the living room for Degrassi. At least I’m not cold.

Speaking of Mom overrides, I went with her to Wal-Mart yesterday to find a Father’s Day present. We stopped at the dollar store for cards first. The one I got has a fishing father on the front (though my dad doesn’t fish often), and on the inside says, “Because it’s Father’s Day, you can do whatever you want. Mom said it was okay.” Perfect. I’ve gotten him various presents in the past, but I think the best was when I got him socks. He wears his long after they have visible holes, and he totally used them. It’s a goal of present-giving that you pick something the recipient wouldn’t buy for him- or herself, but when I do that, they wind up kind of useless. So I asked my mom for suggestions, revealing my mission to get something he’ll genuinely like and use. So what’d I get? A big carton of Whoppers. It’s odd when I open my closet and remember that I’m giving my father candy for his holiday, but I couldn’t bear to get another DVD that would lay around unwatched.

This morning, I was watching Dawson’s Creek and making my bed when Ryan knocked on my door. “This man said you have to move your car,” he said. I peeked under my shade and saw a bulldozer directly behind my car. Flustered, I grabbed a sweatshirt and my keys and hurried out of my room. I came back to put on shoes, then went outside. The man gestured that I should move farther back on the curb, which I did. I came back inside, finished making my bed, and tried to make sense of what had just happened. I complimented myself on coming back for shoes, and chastised myself for wearing a sweatshirt. It’s summer. It’s hot outside. Yeah, covering up my pajamas was a good idea, but still. Being inside all the time is ruining my sense of temperature. Then I thought about that bulldozer weaving between my car and our neighbor’s basketball hoop, and went back out, sans sweatshirt, to pull into the driveway. Then I continued getting dressed.

A few hours later, when my dad came home, he revealed that the bulldozer men were probably going to rip up our sidewalk. There were chunks of curb missing yesterday evening, but they must have just done the sidewalks today. My main concern was how Mom will react if they plant grass and the quality doesn’t match. (She had our wimpy grass treated a little while ago.) I went about my business, eating lunch and watching the episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation where Picard et. al. become little kids. They’d just gotten to the climax, where Kid!Picard plans to use their appearance to rescue the Enterprise from the Ferengi, when the picture suddenly cut out. Not into snow, just to black. I immediately thought, “They cut the cable.” And they did. The stupid bulldozer dug into the yard and yanked up the sidewalk, snapping our cable line neatly in half.

So we have no tv for the rest of the day. My dad called Comcast, and they said they’ll be out tomorrow to fix it. I think he said our neighbors’ cable is out, too. So at least we’re not suffering alone. Stupid county work. They didn’t even let us know they’d be ripping up our sidewalk. There is currently a big ditch in front of my house. It was weird seeing men standing in my yard. Yay for deeper meaning (pun not intended).

I am currently in love with “Breathe (2 AM),” by Anna Nalick. It’s such a beautiful song. It reminds me of Sarah McLachlan, whom I also love. Maybe this is Anna’s version of “Sweet Surrender.” Here’s some irony: Singing along recently, I realized that to sing it like she does, you really don’t breathe all that often.

I am still unemployed. Really, is it that hard to respond to a message? I’m tired of calling. I sent in another resume, but it looks grim. I called Huntington, a company with a center right near me. Apparently, they only hire certified teachers. To ponder: I am trying to earn the credentials for certification. To do that, I need to have experience with kids in the age group I want to teach (grades 7-12). To get experience, I’d like to tutor. But to tutor with Huntington, I have to be certified. You’d think, with all the advancing and evolving we do, we’d have more employers who are aware of that catch-22 by now. It figures that, when I finally choose a career path, I run into this while trying to move forward. I have to have experience and three recommendations by next May 1. I don’t want to give up on a chance to get some of that out of the way (and I could use the money), but I only have so much hope.

The desk in the computer room where I kept my computer has such a bad surface. The lid of my laptop is all scratched from when I was installing my wireless card. My first instinct was to set it on the floor. I think I’d rather have had to do massive blocking to keep anyone from stepping/falling on it than have those scratches. Of course, my near-plummet onto the glass of our coffee table makes the scratches seem okay.



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