Changes are coming like a freight train Monday, May 03, 2010
How does it happen that I've failed to write for so long? I can't explain it, I've started to write things countless time and then something stops me dead in my tracks (ooh, look at that shiny object over there...wanders away from the computer.)But here I am again, writing another entry- hopefully to completion.
There is news in the land of the Saucy Trollop. Big news. I handed in my resignation at work and my last day will be May 28th.
Oh. My. God.
I'm heading back to school in the fall to get my teaching license and my masters. It's absolutely terrifying. And exciting. And then terrifying again.
The reason I'm leaving so soon is because my lease on my apartment is up on June 1st, and my new school is in Milwaukee. So for the time being I'll be tossing my stuff in storage for part of the summer and then staying with my parents in Cleveland and visiting my brother in Alabama too. I'm aiming for a August 1st arrival date in Milwaukee, which gives me three weeks before school starts to get settled in and find a damn job. I need to work, my student loans won't cover my living expenses and my classes are built in such a way that I don't have to be in class all day. Plus living in a cardboard box under a bridge would be fucking hard in the middle of winter which would be the result of me not finding a job.
This whole thing is a good thing, I've been needing a change for a while and I know in my heart it is the right move but that doesn't mean that without the slightest bit of provication that I don't burst into tears. Lots and lots of tears. I go in fits and starts, I'll be fine for a while and then all of the sudden it will hit me that I'm leaving this place I've called home for so very long. It's been 6.5 years that I've lived here as a non-college adult and then another 4 for undergrad so almost 11 years in total. My friends here are awesome, the community is amazing. It's impossibly hard to say goodbye to it all.
My poor, long suffering sister has had to bear the brunt of my crying. That woman deserves a bloody medal.
I've mentioned before when I get stressed my stomach goes haywire, I lose my appetite- sometimes I throw up. It is like it turns into a Celtic knot of discontent. I am fairly sure I thoroughly worried my parents this weekend because the sum total of my food that I consumed in their presence wouldn't keep a tit mouse alive (yes, I just said tit mouse- because I'm 13 and it's funny). For those who know me this is absolutely not my usual modus operandi. I love food. I love to eat. Granted earlier in the week I was eating everything that wasn't nailed down (thanks PMS), but on Thursday a switch flipped and poof! angry gut and no appetite.
Which is a pisser because my parents took me out to eat a totally awesome restaurant in Cleveland and I had maybe 5 bites of my amazingly delicious food. Do you live in Cleveland? Please go to Lopez on Lee and eat some of their Iron Chef Guacamole. It is absolutely to die for.
Christ the way this post is going everyone is going to have the impression that I'm not really excited about this move. But I am, I swear. Right now it's just the stress is foremost in my mind and thus taking up 90% of my computing power.
Milwaukee is awesome, the beer. The cheese. The people. A whole new world is waiting for me, and that is an amazing thing.
Just breathe.
Labels: apartment, Awesomeness, cleveland, Milwaukee, school
Oh my holy shit. Monday, July 21, 2008
PSA: A trashcan full of empty boxes and a bike parked at the right angle so the sun hits the bike reflector can ignite a fire. OUTSIDE YOUR FRONT DOOR.Then in your awesomely half dressed state (because you just emerged from the shower) you can throw open said door to find a cop yelling at you to shut the door while he extinguishes the fire. Then still not wearing a bra and with wet hair you can be asked a million questions by the cops and fireman (who were actually really nice and helpful) determine that it was a freak accident (once they rule out that you are neither a smoker, pyromaniac or crazy).
Things that were ruined by the fire: trashcan, bike tire (hopefully not the rim or anything else), lawn chair, snow shovel and a couple of my tomato plants.
This is just another in a random set of things that have sucked balls, including getting food poisoning on Friday night possibly from something I ate on the scenic railway beer train (cost: $25). Really, as if it wasn't bad enough they ran out of beer 20 minutes into a 2 hour ride and their "local appetizers" were tiny cubes of very non-local cheese, ritz crackers and a bag of pretzels; but then 6 hours later I'm spending copious amounts of time hunched over my toliet. That is like kicking someone in the ass after they've already fallen down because you tripped them and then stealing $25 from their wallet.
Previously, on things that blow: my iBook keyboard started malfunctioning. Several of the keys died and while it is an easy fix the nearest Apple Genius Bar is 1.5 hours away. So last Saturday I drove to Columbus to get it fixed, except that once I reached Columbus' 270 outerbelt I hit a freaking box spring at 70 miles an hour. There was a giant truck right in front of me that swerved to miss it, but since I couldn't see why it swerved until about 3 seconds later there was nothing I could do. I was boxed in, and slamming on my breaks would have only caused the guy behind me to ram into my back end.
So like something out of Dukes of Hazard I just drove right over top of it. Killing it dead.
Luckily it didn't seem to hurt my car, but really it's an experience I could of lived without.
Seems I'm not the only one having a rough go of July, the wonderfully witty and awesome Jemima seems to be in the same boat as I am.
Post Script: Cleaning up hot, smoked, half-burned rotting garbage is horribly horrific. Oh my god, the smell. I had to shower after I picked it up, I felt like that awful smell was clinging to my skin and hair.
Labels: apartment, bike, cleaning
Where is my damn Sudafed? Thursday, June 19, 2008
Praise baby Jesus (because I'm sure he had a lot to do with it), but my landlord called me back at 9pm. In my head I'd given him a 9:30pm deadline before I totally lost my shit, which would involve me driving over to his house with my toiletries and asking to take a shower and use the toilet. He was massively apologetic on the phone and told me to get the carpet cleaned and send him the bill. Which I fully intend to do once I get my damn shit together. Currently I feel like bits of my sanity are held together with scotch tape and perhaps might go flying off if they were to encounter a stiff wind. Its the move that makes me feel this way. I spent at least an hour last night poking through the boxes looking for the giant powder blue makeup bag that held my salvation (sinus medication) and couldn't find it. This morning I was miserable, stuffy headed and still looking for that damn bag. Then I realized I might have actually already put the damn thing away, and just like that I opened my closet and there it was.I'm slowly making progress with all the boxes and stuff piled around me in the new place. Last night I managed to get several boxes cleared away and make a real meal. One with chopped veg and everything. Tonight my goal is to attack the remaining boxes in the left quadrant of my apartment, the right quadrant is still a total mess and I'm dealing with it by completely avoiding it. Sounds like a plan, no?
The right will come under attack this weekend, hopefully by Sunday everything will be in it's own place. Oh, except that the giant Rubbermaid containers will be chillin' in the main room. Because there is only one closet and it's already full of clothes, extra bed linen, and shoes. I have no idea what I'm going to do with all of them since House Du Rubbermaid isn't really my decorating style. Perhaps I'll even get ambitious and hang pictures this weekend.
And steam clean the motherfucking carpet.
Oh, and make damn cookies for my nephew's birthday (which was a month ago).
Clearly I'm on top of it all.
Shit, shit, shit. I've turned into one of those people who bitches all the time about being busy yet does nothing to stop it. I hate those people. I guess I can add 'self-loathing' to my list of complaints and things to do.
Crap. Literally. Monday, June 16, 2008
Ok, so I'm not dead. I just feel that way, I've got another cold. Complete with sore throat and plugged ears. Oh, and overflowing toliet and a shower stall full of poop-water (which is escaping from the bathroom and onto the carpet in the hallway). AWESOME.Best part is that I've called my landlord but his wife seems to think that overflowing sewage isn't that big of a deal and won't call her husband on the golf course.
I showered this afternoon at the gym and might have to pee in the backyard tonight.
Labels: apartment
Barely functional Monday, June 09, 2008
Ok, so clearly I bored everyone with my post about running. So in retaliation I'll make you read a boring bit about my weekend. Bear with me I'm not my usual witty self... I'm so freaking tired right now I can barely sit upright. I've spent the last 4 days moving in 90+ degree heat. Moving oneself by oneself can be a long, laborious undertaking. My friends helped move the large bits but the rest has been up to me.Tonight I spent longer than I care to discuss cleaning my old apartment. I want that fucking deposit back. I still need to finish cleaning the oven, wash the floors and baseboards and then I'm DONE. Oh and move 4 boxes out of the damn garage. Then I'll be really done.
Lets not even touch on the fact that I've been so tired that all my stuff is piled around me in the new apartment none of it put away.
Shall I mention that my parents are coming for a visit this weekend? Because just a bit of added pressure to heap onto the pile to get things put away. Yeah, if it doesn't happen my parents can just suck it up and deal.
The best part about moving, I drove the big ass Uhaul truck. It was wickedly fun. Oh, and moving all the major furniture only took 1 hour and 20 minutes. Which meant my lovely friends and I enjoyed a celebratory beer at 11:20am on Saturday. Oh, and my new neighbor saw us drinking and decided to come down and introduce himself (and his wife) and join us in the beer consuming. Awesome.
See, I loved driving the truck (not bad looking for not wearing a lick of makeup, having been sweating for a couple of hours, no?):
And my awesome friends enjoying a frosty cold one post move, although Dan (the dude in the middle) is looking not entirely happy:
Labels: apartment, photos, triathlon
It's not love but it'll do for now. Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Looking for a place to live is stressful anywhere you live, but for some reason it seems to be a major issue here. You would think that I'm living in a thriving metropolis but nope! Just plain old Athens (with it's massive student population who artificially drive up prices). How about $1400 a month for a two bedroom apartment? YES! Please and thank you. There is also this giant rod that you could beat me roundly about the head with too.Ok, but in all seriousness- $1400 a month for a two bedroom apartment in insane. I could rent a whole house in a nicer neighborhood for that amount or a little bit more. So the epic search continued on- then there was the $450 motel-dive-looking apartment. Complete with half inflated air mattress on the floor and hobo smell.
Then there was the hugely touted "ceramic tile!" apartment, the only ceramic tile was about 3 tiles right when you walked in the door. Of course the kitchen had horrible, shit-tastic linoleum. Instead of a hobo smell this place was heavily incensed so either the dude was in the Seminary and practicing his Catholic rituals or he is into the pot. I'm thinking it is the latter, especially since there was the tell-tale hippie tapestry on the living room wall.
There was one other contender, it was nice, tile floors/nice carpet, bigger kitchen, good amount of storage. But the price was a bit higher, it had a bit of an odd layout and it didn't have a washer and dryer. It cost about the same as the place I'm living now though- but...
In the end I chose the apartment on the West Side of town, sort of out of the way (still only a 5 minute commute to work). But it's big and open (albeit boring and bland), with a nice washer and dryer. The kitchen is JACKED, though. Carpet in the kitchen? (good bye deposit the minute I spill something on the floor) It looks like they intended to put in some more counters/cabinets and then got distracted by shiny object or perhaps a ham sandwich thus causing them to entirely forget about the project.
Kitchen
Living Room:
Bedroom:
But it is cheaper than my current place and I am instituting plan "super money saver" so at the end of next year I could make some major life changes. Maybe leave, maybe buy a house, maybe take a super extended vacation? I don't know. Something BIG.
Now that I've put it out there I have to follow through.
Labels: apartment
So very sore+Day in photos Friday, April 18, 2008
I am totally walking funny today because I asked my trainer to kick my ass. I've totally slacked off on working on for the last month, I just couldn't find the motivation because I was being sad and lame. Whatever. Really I couldn't stand feeling like such shit anymore so I resolved to working out every day again. Also I had a bit of great motivation, that being that my pants are starting to not fit correctly. Which sucks since my pant wardrobe is seriously limited to start with.As soon as I started back this week I felt better. I got in several good cardio workouts before I asked my trainer to essentially come up with a plan to make my thighs explode. Oh, and he did. Circuits. Lots of squats, lunge-like steps, kicking exercises (which I happen to LOVE. Here let me work out some aggression by kicking the shit out of your (padded) hands.WHEEEE !!!!). Best part was that we ripped through an hour workout in 30 minutes because I could complete each circuit in 11 minutes, I was hauling ass people. He did cut one set of circuits because he didn't want me to be totally fucking paralyzed for the following 2 days.
Yesterday I just did cardio, but there were a couple cute new guys at the gym. And I think one of them might have been checking me out, although it is quite possible he was staring at my extremely red face in horror. I'm pretty sure I've mentioned how I turn the color of tomato whileexercising but here is the other thing about when I'm having a really good workout... I smile. A LOT. Because it feels good. Also because I'm usually listening to some super cheesy pop mix. Yesterday the biggest smiles came from Wind it Up (GwenStefani), Switch (Will Smith), and Faith (George Michael).
With any luck I'll feel more comfortable in my pants in a month, barring any more brownie breakfasts (oops, just one this morning). But I also like to think that eating it early in the day might be marginally better since I've got all day to burn it off. Just let me live on in my delusion,ok?
Lets show some photos, shall we? Tuesday happened to be a particularly fun day, since it didn't involve my usually boring routine of sitting on the couch watching endlessCSI repeats on Spike (CSI is the new Law and Order), I felt the compelling need to document it.
Labels: apartment, drinking, photos
Eep! Thursday, December 20, 2007
I feel that rising panic inside, the kind that can only come from having entirely too much to do and too little time to accomplish it all in.And yet, I still procrastinate and write blog posts about it.
I'm leaving tomorrow for 6 days spent in Cleveland, at the end of which I'm sure that I will be desperate to get back to my life in Athens. I still must clean my apartment, which of course was on the agenda last night but instead I baked brownies for the beer tasting I'm going to tonight. Because a girl needs to have priorities and a sink full of dirty dishes and pantaloons thrown onto the floor do not take precedence over beer and deep, velvety brownies.
Lets not even discuss the shopping bit of my week, since Athens is woefully lacking in places to shop besides BigLots or Wal-Mart I've put off shopping until I go to Cleveland. I had planned on going to Columbus this weekend to tackle it but then there was that massive storm they were calling for. The storm that never materialized, which in it's own way was probably a blessing because it allowed me to nurse that tiny hangover I had on Saturday with fountain coke and a nap.
So there is the cleaning, the shopping, the beer party, oh! and the blasted holiday cards. Cards that are so fucking hilarious and awesome I cannot wait to send them out. But one should actually order cards if one expects to send them. So instead I've revised the damn photo 50 times because I'm obsessive-photographer like that and still not sent them to the printer. People will get them late but they will laugh till they cry when they get them.
Of course my one coworker left for vacation and I'm literally left holding the bag of delicious baked goodies I made for him. I don't want these fucking cookies and must find someone else to pawn them off on. I'm sure I could shove them onto the overfilled table in the break room and they would disappear in a flash. Yet, part of me doesn't want to do that? Just chalk it up to my little Grinch-y heart.
And still my mind keeps shooting back to the sink full of dishes, an occurrence so rare in my apartment that it keeps filling me with panic. Is this really what my life has become? Have I fully turned into my mother? The woman who cannot stand a sink full of dirty dishes?
Living alone Friday, September 07, 2007
First off I need to wish my sister a very happy birthday. I love you dearly and hope you get your wish of James' football team kicking the Colts asses (you are such a sports-mom). Eat some of that delicious bread pudding from the restaurant tonight for me, ok?On with the regular post, there are just so many things I've discovered about living alone that I like, I knew deep down I would love it and really, it's pretty damn awesome. I've been composing a list of things that I love the most, goddamnit, can I say love one more time? Ptthh.
That no one minds if I decide that I want to make pickled okra at 10:30 on a Saturday night while wearing my nightgown.
I love that when I come home from work I can take off my pants just because I can. I'm quickly becoming accustomed to not having to wear pants at home, at first it was just taking off the bra but I've moved onto my pants. Fuck, does this mean I'm just a few articles of clothing from becoming "that naked person". Do other people so freely walk around sans pants (or sans clothes?), is this a phenomenon I've been missing out on my whole life because I've always had roommates? Please inform me if this is case, that way I can shed some of my guilt at loving the pantlessness.
An aside: Sans pants the other day (but wearing girl boxers) I almost ran out to the garage to grab some more paper towels. Everything was covered and I started to dash out the door and stopped. Why, because there was a funeral going on next door (I live next to a funeral home) and I didn't think people in mourning need to see me without my pants on- they've clearly got enough grief in their life. Although they may have thought it hilarious, perhaps I should have.
No roommate silently judges me when I have just beer for dinner. Listen, it's chocolate stout so it's totally like a food, ok?
I can have parties and not have to clear it with anyone else or wait till the students are gone on holiday. Also I don't have to explain my odd living situation or have a bunch of college aged girls press me for answers to whether or not I let boys stay over in my room or if I drink or if I have friends. (I cannot explain enough the joy I have that I am no longer a sorority house mother.)
I love that I come home to silence, unless I change it. I love that it wasn't hard at all to live without cable or internet for 3 months, and it opened my eyes to how much TV I had previously been vegging out to.
It's great to have friends over any time and sit on my patio drinking wine and talking until the sun sets.
I hate that my landlord has already asked me to sign a contract for 2008-2009, and I'm supposed to make that decision today. I love my place but I can't commit to living in Athens until June of 2009. I just can't, I know I'm going to move on at some point so there is no point really in completely screwing myself and being stuck paying rent on a place I'm not living in (there is no lease breaking in this town). If anything this is going to keep the heat on for me to press on in the job search.
Labels: apartment
Playing house Wednesday, June 27, 2007
I've hung pictures and put away all the dishes yet I still somehow feel like I'm playing house, and there is no way this is my home. I'm going to wake up and I will have to trudge back to the sorority house with it's cook and housekeepers and everyone up in my business, the studio living with everything in one room, and constant noises from drunk college students.Moving, to say the least, was not hard. It went fairly easily and the main worry, the couch not fitting through the door, was not an issue. We didn't even have to take the door off, it just slid right in. With the help of Dan and Ben, strapping boyfriends of my girlfriends. Although Dan did catch his finger on a staple and cut himself (which I feel awful about).
But then there was the crying, on my part. Oh, the crying. Why? Because I'm a hormonal ninny who felt like some sort of glutonous american for having so much goddamn stuff. Goddamn stuff I could never locate when I needed it, which made the crying worse. Mom took it all in stride like the moving champ that she is, at one point she told me to go take a nap and an hour later when I got up she was down on her hands and knees scrubbing my floors. Seriously. Scrubbing my floors.
I thank god every day I came out of her body because how much does she rock?
Earlier in the day we had gone for breakfast at this little bakery and were sitting outside when a friend of mine stopped by to say hi. After chatting with him for a few minutes he took his leave and my mom turns to me:
Mom: He's cute.
Me: Yes, he's very cute.
Mom: He has really nice teeth.
Me: (laughing) Is he horse? Why were you checking out his teeth?
Mom: Oh god, you are going to tell him I said that aren't you?
Me: I so am
I've been sitting on this post since Monday, trying to be funny and witty in the hopes that it will make the internets at large like me more but I'm just too tired to try to make it so anymore. My brain function feels cut off, like there is a problem with my neurons firing in sequence instead I mostly end up blankly staring at the open word document without a coherant thought to put down.
Labels: apartment
Lets get this show on the road Tuesday, June 19, 2007
I can't sit still, I feel like I should be home packing. I don't want to be editing this series of photos for the millionth time.I would also like to be drinking beer.
But really thats nothing special since I'd always like to be drinking beer.
Labels: apartment, beer, cleaning
White wash Monday, June 18, 2007
So I picked up the keys to my new place on Friday, and I'll have to say I was more than disappointed with it. The simple fact was the walls looked terrible, the color was a dirty cream. And by dirty I mean really actually dirty. There was layers of dust clinging to the walls.I couldn't stand it so I picked up some white paint and went to town. I painted the whole apartment myself in 2 days (everything needed two coats of paint). And to put this delicately- oh my motherfucking god, I'm so fucking sore today that I'm actually walking funny.
But the difference the paint made was astonishing. Everything seemed suddenly cleaner and brighter.
Now my only freakout is the actual moving part. I hate moving, having moved 20-some times in my entire life. I stopped counting a couple of years ago. I've not really packed which I think is causing the main stress, and then there is the secondary stress of things like "oh my god, will my couch fit through the door? What if it doesn't fit? What am I going to do? "
It is so bad that I barely slept last night, I tossed and turned and had lots of nightmares. So not cool.
Here are some before and after photos from the painting extravaganza.
Living room before:
Living room after:
Kitchen before:
Kitchen after:
Bathroom before:
Bathroom after:
Labels: apartment, cleaning, home improvement, photos
Where are my damn measuring cups? Monday, June 11, 2007
So for the last three years I've had a cleaning lady and a cook. Well, not really that I had one, rather the place I lived did. I hate every moment of it.HATE.
Sure, this may be surprising to whole hell of a lot of people since having a cleaning lady and cook seems like some sort of decadent dream but really nearly every moment of it has been pretty close to torture for me. First off, I told the cleaning ladies that they did not need to clean my room or bathroom. Why? Because I hate having people up in my business.
If I decide to leave my panties on the floor I don't want someone I'm not sleeping with to see them. Why that distinction? Because if you are sexing someone up they are already deep into your personal space. My cleaning ladies and I do not have that sort of relationship.
So you would think I wouldn't have issues with the non-personal spaces like kitchens- right? Wrong. Things get put away in odd places so that I spend 15 minutes looking for my measuring cups, and they are never put away in the same place twice. Sometimes they are in one drawer, sometimes placed in a cabinet- it's a crapshoot really. An annoying, frustrating crapshoot. I cannot tell you the number of times I've been trying to cook or bake and stood in the kitchen and screamed in frustration because I can't find something I know own.
And the cook, god love her. She is sweet and granted she isn't there for just me- but I don't do processed foods. Really, I eat them every once and while and usually end up feeling like shit afterwards. I'm all healthy like that. But for her processed foods are a way of life, which is fine. And it's fine with a lot of the people she cooks for, and since they are the ones paying the majority of the rent I don't complain.
Lastly, I'm just not comfortable with it at all. I feel some sort of guilt, shame or semi-lower middle class uncomfortableness with having someone do those domestic things that I am more than capable of doing myself.
As of next Friday, it will all be over. I won't have to make pleasant small talk in the morning while I'm trying to gulp down my fiber before running out the door. I won't have to endure any more calls at work from someone asking me a question about something so totally inane it makes me want to tear my hair out. I'm moving into my new place and from here on out if the measuring cups are not in the right place I know it's because I moved them.
Bits Friday, June 08, 2007
All of the sudden I have nervous feeling in my gut about the triathlon. Perhaps it is because I read a message board today and it totally freaked me out. I don't really have the proper bike for a triathlon, I've not practiced my transitions, oh my god, I'm going to die- aren't I?Not helping the nervous feeling is the fact that I ate an entire container of Stouffer's Welsh Rarebit for lunch. It seemed like a delicious idea at the time, but instead I'm now feeling overly cheesified and bloated, which means it will be a long, long, long time before I do that again. Seriously, such a bad idea.
Keds, who the hell knew I owned Keds. Oh, I know Mischa Barton tried to make them cool and they are a classic but in what right mind did I think I would really become a Keds wearer? But none the less there they are in my closet, only having been worn a couple of time and those time were most certainly not in the last 3+ years I've lived in my current place. So tonight, they go to the goodwill-esque store.
There are so many things I'm pulling out of the world's smallest closet and from the storage bins under my bed that I just can't explain. Why did I hang onto that super faded black, ribbed, 3/4 sleeve, v-necked Old Navy shirt for 4+ years? I've not worn it in 2, yet it sat there as if I would someday pull it out and say "YOU! I've been looking for my super faded black, ribbed, 3/4 sleeve, v-necked Old Navy shirt!"
So what is with all the cleaning? I'm moving starting next week, on Friday I take possession of my lovely little apartment (ALL TO MYSELF) and there is just so much shit that is not going to make the transition. I'm paring down, I want to live clean and simple- not that I currently am in the throws of a cluttered existence but even less cluttery and stuff filled.
In college one of my roommates had a serious motherfucking problem with clutter. It was like she would walk into a room and it would explode with random, useless crap. It covered every surface that she possessed. She and I exchanged words on more than one occasion when she would eye my clutter free desk or dresser. And really, does a grown woman need a magic wand her mother bought for her last week? Or the ugly, little mutton faced crone doll with bells and keys and other assorted glittery shit sewn onto it's frock?
I just can't live with stuff, I start to feel claustrophobic. The reality is that my new apartment is going to have the semi-ugly patina of a first real apartment alone, even though most people have that "look" right after college I'm attempting it at 27. It is going to be the awesomist.
