Thursday, June 28, 2007

Ornamental Hairpiece















© Linda Davick


Today was so hard that I decided take my camera for a late walk. A rundown:

1. Wake up too early. Help Tom make PDF's and then JPG's and then proofread. Then collate. Then pull staples out and re-collate. Then proofread and pull staples out again and re-collate.

2. Refinancing documents arrive FedEx. I'm terror-stricken, knowing I'll have to handle the closing myself (without Tom) over the phone.

3. Eat leftover black bean tofu standing up. Pam from Dr. Ziegler's office calls. There are no older x-rays to compare to Mom's latest two. Would I like to make an appointment with a pulmonary specialist?

4. Help Tom carry rolls and rolls and rolls of drawings to the car.

5. Try to read and comprehend 80-90 pages of financial documents before 2:30.

6. Mom calls. She's locked inside her apartment and can't get out.

7. Close on our refinancing. Check to make sure it's OK to get the papers notarized tomorrow, as Tom won't be back for hours. No! Not OK at all. The papers are dated June 28 and must be notarized today. I search for a notary who'll be working late. After talking to a few, one says she can do it, but she has to catch the number 5 bus by 5:50 in order to get home. I volunteer to take her home if we can make it over by 6:00; she says she lives in Sausalito. Then I ask how much it will cost for 6 signatures. She says "$60." She then asks what kind of document. I say, "Closing." She says, "That will be an extra $100, for a total of $160." I keep looking.

8. Patting myself on the back for handling the closing without crying, I remember that I've forgotten to ask what our monthly payment will be. Our loan officer is long gone. Maybe Tom won't remember to ask me.

9. Was I supposed to do any work today? Tom calls as he turns up our street. I run out and meet him with the papers, a list of possible notaries, and an ice cream sandwich for nourishment. Gunvant Patel, Notary Extraordinaire (UPS Store on West Portal) stays until 6:30. We sign and he stamps and seals the deal for us. We drive straight to Louis'. I have a fried egg sandwich and an Anchor Steam.

10. I hit the beach. I'm shooting Ornamental Hairpiece when a creature emerges from the sea. He's half man (top) and half black seal (bottom).

Surfer Boy:
That's beautiful.
Me: Yeah.
Surfer Boy: I mean it.
Me: Thank you.
Surfer Boy: You're an artist. Don't let anyone ever tell you you're not.
I felt like Sally C. must have felt when Whit Smith called her from an airport. Like Sally G. must have felt when Jerry Seinfeld responded to the cotton ball.
...Sort of like I had met Shane Rebenshied in person.

6 comments:

platitudinal said...

Wow! This is like the Done List of the century, Linda. I was already exhausted at #1.

Your ornamental hairpiece reminds me of a fascinator. And I love the girl rock’s eyes. That’s what I would call alluring.

Sally said...

I love fried egg sandwiches. Linda, I am so sorry to hear you have that worry about your mom. I cannot imagine refinancing again; how stressful. It sounds so hard having to do all that work for Tom and also without Tom. (By the way, Pat is running around here telling me ha has lost the receipts and rebate for the supposed-to-be-free iPod.) That surfer boy was absolutely right and the true reality here.

Sally said...

Didn't Milton say he approaches everything with equal parts terror and confidence? You sound like the bionic woman. Thank goodness for hormones.

sallyg again said...

Sorry, me again. Linda, is there someone you can call at the facility when your mom does something like that who can go check on her (someone with a key)?
I used to wake up at 2 a.m. worrying about Dad, and I would call the nurse's station and ask how he was doing.

mary ann said...

So much here, Linda, and it seems like it's just what I needed today. I love that you were all grown up about the closing business (ick stuff) and I so agree with Mr. Cage on working for people you like and avoiding the toxic ones. Thanks and keep us all updated on your mom, pls.

Marilyn said...

What a glorious post...although I'm sure it wasn't glorious living it. Beautiful though.