powered by SignMyGuestbook.com

rue-madame's Diaryland Diary

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Herculean task

I’ve been thumbing through one of my zillion copies of this, and I noticed lots of itty bitty changes. Changes that occurred after I delivered the files. Wrong, ugly changes.

Grrrrr.

It’s a good thing my name is buried in the Acknowledgements, because I don’t want any current or future client to come calling with a “Hey, we loooooove what you did with the project. Can you do that for us?”

All I can think of is that bar scene in Pulp Fiction where Marcellus is talking to Butch, tapping the side of his head, warning, “That’s pride fucking with you.”

There’s a part of me that knows I should have put my name in there--in 12 pt caps, in Cooper Black why not?--but my pride got the better of me. I’d rather folks associate my name with something I’m proud of (even when the projects are undertaken for purely mercenary reasons.)

And of course, I still haven’t been paid the last half of my fee! Oh yes, this project is going to drag on and on until I have nothing left on which to blame my undereye bags and my ever expanding ass. By the time I get the money, surgery and Mach 7 liposuction will be long overdue.

We saw an apartment today at 1pm. What. A. Dump. When we got back in the car, I said to Terence, “You know, if we had seen this ten years ago, we would have been psyched.”

“I was thinking the same thing!”

It’s not that we’re snobs (who am I kidding? We are ridiculous snobs!) but at a certain point in your life, you expect to live in a particular way. Terence and I always kid about “the style and manner to which we are accustomed” (use your haughty voice!) but it’s the fucking truth. You can’t go backwards.

We’ve done pretty well with rentals for the last 3 years: in LA, our place was pristine with beautifully refinished floors and perfect paint; in Paris, our digs were minimalist chic with 17th century stone floors, bright white walls and chocolate silk curtains.

Naturally given this track record, we will imperiously reject:

- all weird floorplans brought about by lame-brained room segmentation

- sloppy, drippy woodwork refinishing

- broken heaters and dubious-looking appliances

- patchy, stained or dirty walls

- floors that slope to the point of vertigo-inducement

- multiple locks on front doors

- giant chunks of animal hair in the hallways

- (and this is a new one) long, spiky looking chains extending from a neighbor’s fence obviously meant to restrain some kind of 21st century blood-thirsty Cerberus

Uh, no.

So the search for apartment rentals and condos for sale continues.

3:28 p.m. - 2004-05-14

|

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next

latest entry

about me

archives

notes

DiaryLand

contact

roll the dice

other diaries: