Brutalism Digest

1) I'm in my skin cancer era. 

And while "A Mohs on my Nose" sounds like an adorable Seussian tale, it's not as much fun as one might think. I look forward to a dermatologist visit that does not result in the doctor commenting, "Hmm...I don't like the look of that" but am grateful that most of the time, she just freezes away the problem and I go sunbathe in celebration. I KID! 

2) We recently decided to replace the upstairs carpeting with hardwoods, so this week Mr. Brutalism and I are preparing for contractors. Some may view moving all the furniture, contents of every closet, and every piece of artwork hanging on the walls as a bonding experience for you and your spouse - that whole 'working toward a common goal' thing, right?

Yet when my friend texted last night to ask what I was doing, I shared, "Moving furniture with my soon-to-be-ex-husband." 

(ed. Know your audience when making a comment like the one above. I was workshopping it with a woman in my exercise class this morning who I don't know well, and she looked stricken when I said that and I had to explain it was a joke.)

3) We made it three whole weeks before we gave in and visited our first-year college student. (We miss her so much - see "massive home renovation project to keep us occupied" above.) She managed to find time to visit with us in between parties, friends visiting from another school, the football game, and volunteering. I managed to keep my nagging and lectures to a minimum. I had asked her to avoid using the electronic scooters around grounds because they are dangerous. And she has abided by this. Instead, she has driven her roommate ON THE SAME EBIKE AND WITHOUT HELMETS many miles around the city. So, fortunately, there was time for one small lecture. (For those with seniors, note it is called the "Common app" and not the "Common sense app.")

4) Recently went to see The Boss at Nats Stadium with my best friend from elementary school. This is the first time either of us had seen Bruce Springsteen live and the show was everything we heard it would be. He played almost four hours, he and the band sounded great, the weather that night was ideal, and we were so glad we went. (This is the same friend with whom I saw Tom Petty at Forest Hills Stadium in Queens a few months before he died. On the subway on the way to the show, Andrew Shue and his son entered our car and Andrew Shue sat right next to my friend. She claims to have been a fan of Melrose Place but interestingly, did not realize it was Andrew Shue sitting right next to her. Nonetheless, she proceeded to chat him up for the 45-minute train ride from Manhattan to Queens, explaining how we've loved Tom Petty since high school and that Tom looked like a high school friend of ours, blah blah blah. When we got to our seats, I was finally able to share that her new BFF was BILLY!)

5)  And finally, if we can locate our clothing and shoes and are still on speaking terms, Canetto and I are going to see Kumail Nanjiani this weekend. Cannot wait!

Grudge Match

Last year, I was cleaning the marketing closet at my office and came across about 50 perfectly good certificate frames that were taking up valuable space. After my company moved to fully remote work post-COVID, we realized our employees did not want framed certificates to hang in their home offices. Hence, the surplus.

In an attempt to find a use for the frames, I posted the whole lot on the Buy Nothing Facebook site in my area. And almost immediately, I got a taker - someone who could use all of them for a volunteer organization with which she was involved. Perfect! 

She agreed to meet me at 2:00pm to pick them up at my office, which is just a few miles from our neighborhood. As an added service, I told her I'd meet her curbside and help her load the frames into her car. 

She replied, "I'll message you when I'm on my way. That sounds great. We'll head over shortly. My kids can help, too." 

With the help of my daughter who was assisting me in the office that day, we piled the 50 frames onto a cart, rode the elevator down 11 floors, and navigated the unwieldy cart to the loading area in front of the building.

And then, we waited. And waited. At 2:33, I texted the woman again and asked, "Do you know what time you'll be here? We're waiting outside." She replied, "I'm on my way. The kids ended up going to the pool. I'll be there in a few."

At 2:54 pm, I texted her for the third and final time, stating, "I had to get to an appointment and left the frames in front of the building. Please let me know that you got them." Which she did, about ten minutes later. 

So, yes, she KNEW I WAS WAITING OUTSIDE for almost an hour and by way of explanation, told me she had taken her kids to the pool, and she certainly did not apologize. What I should have done was take the frames back upstairs and not answer any subsequent texts from her. However, I did not want her volunteer organization to suffer for her boorishness. 

I shared my frustration with a friend who is part of the same Buy Nothing site. Both she and I occasionally post items on the site and remind each other not to give them to this woman when she shows interest. (Everyone needs a Solidarity Sister.)

Oh, do you think that's petty? 

Well, buckle up, daffodils...

'Frame Boor' emerged again recently, posting items she was giving away on the site in the past few days. (She turns up every now and then to taunt me. I'm already on edge about the election this year and am seemingly ready to rant about the most mundane things. This being the latest of them.) I texted my friend, who replied to me a few moments later with, "Go back and look at her post." My friend had replied very politely to the woman's post asking for very specific, detailed measurements about the items the woman had posted. 

Frame Boor took the time to provide my friend a rather meticulous list of every possible specification for her items. To which my friend sweetly replied, "Sorry, that won't work for me." 

We plan to continue this operation until we have made up the hour the woman cost me last year. It may take a couple of years, but the long game is somehow more satisfying.

(Also? Harris. Obviously.)

Chain Yanking

 Mr. Brutalism seems to think I have the IQ of a piece of toast, based on a recent text exchange:

I mean, who DOESN'T know 
'yabba dabba doo'? I assumed
he was entertaining me...

Took him until "Peter Griffin" to realize I was goading him.  

Ironically, I Feel The Need To Hug It Out

Our lil cul de sac displays luminaries on the evening of January 1st - a tradition that began last year thanks to our neighborhood organizers. In addition to being lovely, it provides a nice way to casually gather with neighbors as we help to set up, light, then clean up the luminaries.

A couple of days ago, as I approached the organizer's house to help fill bags with sand and candles, I saw another neighbor already there. As I leaned over to observe her process for filling the bags, she pulled away quickly and exclaimed, "No hugs! I'm fighting a cold!"

I was NOT going in for a hug, but I'm also not very good about responding to things like this when I'm caught off guard, so I didn't say anything and simply let the awkwardness hang in the air for the rest of the bag assembly period. 

Of course, I texted another neighbor I'm friends with about this later and asked her, "Have I EVER hugged a neighbor? Do I have a reputation as a neighbor-hugger?" She assured me I do not. 

I also let her know that more neighbors showed up after this uncomfortable exchange...and that I hugged none of them. 

Embracing the awkward (<--- see what I did there?),

Brutalism

Welp

We were recently invited to our next door neighbor's holiday cookie swap...and we were very excited to go. They're the third set of neighbors who have lived in the house since we've been in the neighborhood and all have been very good next door neighbors. (The turnover is probably not our fault.)

They're extremely considerate, have an adorable four-year old, and decorate for all holidays, which we admire and enjoy but never seem capable of doing ourselves. 

The cookie swap began at 4:00pm to accommodate little ones' schedules and me, my husband and daughter made the short walk next door a few minutes past, passing a large, inflatable gingerbread lawn decoration in their front yard in the process. 

And we had a blast! Other neighbors were there who are in the midst of a major home reno project which has required them to have a porta potty in their driveway for the construction workers. While they were decorating their house for the holidays, they went ahead and strung some lights on the porta potty, too. (One hopes they will capture the magic of the holiday season by capturing a family photo in front of it.)

After a couple of hours, our daughter left the party to meet some friends. We stayed a little while longer, then packed some cookies in a bag and headed out for the (now, dark) walk next door. About five steps in, my foot got tangled in the cord for the gigantic inflatable gingerbread man and I stumbled, threatening to take us both down. I righted myself, but when I stepped forward again, I again stumbled, and he bent, but did not fall over. I finally extricated myself from the gingerbread man support lines and escaped with at least the decoration intact. (My pride, not so much.)

Later that week, I was setting up the heating pad for my daughter, who had a sore back. After I plugged it in, I almost tripped over the cord, and it reminded me of the gingerbread man incident which I shared with her, laughing. 

To which she proclaimed, "NO WAY! When I left, I did the exact same thing! Except I fell and the cookies and one of my shoes went flying. I stood up, picked up all the cookies, looked around to determine if anyone had witnessed this, and then muttered, "welp" out loud to myself before walking home."

Welp,

Brutalism