Yesterday afternoon, I stood up on my bed and peeled every single glow in the dark star off of the dresser and ceiling of my room. I wish I could say that that was the final step in making this room my own. It’s close. My stuff is in the dresser, on the bookshelf and hanging in the closet. My bed is made, with my very own sheets, and I have various chords and plugs and power strips running where I want them. I’d venture to say that it’s looking mightily like home.
Except for the skater dudes.
These are outlines of Rebecca’s husband’s two boys. You know what’s better? They’re outlined in glow in the dark paint as well, and captioned with the secret glow in the dark phrase “SK8R DUDE.” Hell yeah, Amiright?!
Eventually, if I stay here for long enough, I’ll get some tapestries and cover up their dudenesses. However (and I don’t want to say this too loud, because it feels a lot like unwise counting of chickens prior to hatching of eggs*) I have a job interview with this really awesome company. It’s in the mental health field, and is one of the “top 100 non-profits in Oregon,” I think I’m really pretty qualified for the position, and I found out about it because, get this, I met the hiring manager at a bar. It pays enough to live on, and the woman I talked to said that it was a “good way to get my foot in the door.” I go in for an interview on July 13th. I really hope that I get this job, and if I do, Rainbow and I will start looking for our own place, and the dudes can live on, in all their uncovered glory.
*I have been using that phrase often. Too often, perhaps. I find it appropriate and will not bend my will to the naysayers! Not that there are any, except in my imagination. Regardless. Any naysayers (current or future) should know that I will not yield!
Some of you may wonder whether Rainbow is adjusting as well as I am, whether she has adopted her new home without reservation or whether she has her own personal SK8R DUDE to contend with. Some of you may not care about my damn cat.
Rainbow likes my room. She likes the location of her food bowl and its proximity to the bed. Most of all she likes the fact that Velcro does not come in my room. Velcro is, you might say, Rainbow’s SK8R DUDE. Unlike the dude, though, which is a humorous anecdote and mild annoyance, Velcro is a giant evil cat that howls at Rainbow all the time, and viciously attacked her this morning. I define “vicious attack” as any attack in which Rainbow pees on the floor.
I feel as though I should not write that on the internet so as not to embarrass her. However, Rainbow is a cat and therefore cannot actually be embarrassed. She also has no access to the internet as far as I know.
All in all, we are settling in nicely, some of us (me) better than others (her). I think the whole situation will be improved if I can teach her how to whack Velcro outside with a towel.
This is Rainbow and her new boyfriend Bill. On second thought, life as a cat might be pretty ok. She digs a guy with eyebrows.