Adulthood: Some Assembly Required

Technology Makes Adulthood Easy

2011-10-10T12:03:00.000-04:00

I sold something on my Etsy store, and set out to mail it today (Colombus Day) except I remembered that recently, the holiday has taken a beating. It's only a holiday in some places, and not in others. I know it's a holiday for the bank. I wasn't sure if it was a holiday for the Post Office, too.

So what did I do, to find out? I went to Google. What else?

Searching "Is the post office open today?" brought up a ton of results. I went with the first link.

http://www.postofficeopen.com/

To make it even easier for we braindead, 45+ hour a week, underpaid, overtired professionals, they even offer emoticons:

Love it. Love it.

I'm Not As Dumb As You Look

2011-06-10T17:55:00.002-04:00

I went back to the dealership I bought my car from yesterday to see if I could manage an upgrade to a better car without being slapped with a higher monthly payment. I had done a wide-spread survey before making the trip. It was about 50/50; half of everyone I spoke too was adamant the dealership would be able to finagle a deal and get me a monthly payment less than what I pay now, and the other half of the people I questioned reluctantly told me that probably wasn't going to happen.

I don't know jack about cars. I wasn't going to pretend to, nor was I going to cram a study session in before Thursday when my singular goal was "better car, smaller bill." Slick (as we shall now call him) understood this, and took advantage of my supposed ignorance to give me a few "key facts," many of which I highly doubt the validity of. Things like:

a "car build" and a "truck build" are different; four wheel drive is not so important in a vehicle with a "car build"
front wheel drive SUVs handle better than front wheel drive cars
there are absolutely no penalties to lease holders who get into accidents; you simply return the car and go on your way
all cars get stuck in the snow

He was really pushing for me to lease the Hyundai Tucson (I came in with a Hyundai Elantra), stressing that that was how I was going to get a lower monthly payment. It doesn't change the fact that I am leasing. He went so far as to jeer at people who finance cars:

"I know some people say 'Ooooh, but I wanna finnnnance, so I ooooown it,'" and then he hugged his chest, mimicking the insecure emotional folk who understand the value of keeping what you pay for.

When I told him that "after six years, you're done making payments, though, and the car is good for a good while after that," he responded:

"No, you pay for a car for its life.....in maintenance."

I'm not really sure how Slick does his math, but cars don't really cost hundreds of dollars a month in maintenance. Boyfriend's car is eight years years old and going, and he's put maybe $2000 in "major" maintenance into it since he paid it off. Which is actually more bad luck than anything.

$2000/3 (years paid off) = appx $55/month in maintenance.
Leasing a Tucson would be at least $250/month.

Did he think I just couldn't do the math?

So then he lets it slip that he has no 4 wheel drive Tucsons left on the lot, which explains why he's pushing the front wheel drive one directly in front of us with arguments like "it handles better than your car, even if they are both front wheel drive."

Me: "Right, but if the front tires are stuck in the snow, be it my car, or a front wheel drive Tucson, I'm stuck in the damned snow."
Him: "...No..." And he smiled. He was smiling a lot. I am still not sure why.
Me: "No?"
Him: "No, because an SUV handles differently than a car. It will handle differently in the snow."

That was his only answer. I stress that going from a front wheel drive to another front wheel drive sounds pointless; I wanted an ALL WHEEL DRIVE CAR because they do, by default, handle better in rough weather.

I tell him I really want a 4 wheel drive car, and that I honestly love the Honda CR-V and the Toyota Rav-4 and lo and behold! he has two on the lot. They're used.

Me: "Why would I trade in my 3 year old car for an 8 year old one?"
Him: "But you said you want lower payments."
Me: "Yeah.......for a better car."

Uhm, bwuh? He didn't want to tell me no. I get it. It's their job to not turn me down outright.

Then Slick delivers this little gem:

"Look, in bad weather we stay home. All cars get stuck in the snow. Last winter we had trouble driving ALL these cars around."

To which I responded:

"Oh, well, if all cars get stuck in the snow, and I can't get a lower payment, I might as well stay with the car I can afford now and get stuck."

He smiled again, and at this point I realized he was smiling whenever I made him look like an idiot by not being an idiot myself.

Why do car salesmen think they're so damned smart? They're just following a formula, same as everyone else on this planet. I don't know why I am so surprised at Slick being a little thick headed; my ex was a car salesman (a bad one) briefly. It doesn't take a diabolical genius.

Needless to say, I didn't come away with a car. Every time I threw his own arguments back at him, twisted and reshaped to argue for my point, he would smile, and I'd think about how douchey his mohawk looked.

Adulthood Points For Me: 2
For Slick: 0

We're All Adults Here

2011-05-25T18:15:00.001-04:00

Boyfriend adds to the dry erase board grocery list.

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Mainstream Media Finally Acknowledging College Bubble -- FORT LEE, N.J., May 20, 2011 /PRNewswire/ --

2011-05-20T22:31:00.000-04:00

Mainstream Media Finally Acknowledging College Bubble -- FORT LEE, N.J., May 20, 2011 /PRNewswire/ --

Owch. This article pretty much explains my retreat from the world between July of 2010 to February 2011.

Gym Goers Everywhere Deal With This

2011-05-20T17:35:00.003-04:00

After vacation in February, I decided that being curled in the fetal position on my couch, cursing the American college system and my own bad luck probably wasn't going to make me feel better. With all the free time I had, being jobless, I figured not was as good a time as any to attempt to lose weight.

Almost a full Couch to 5K program and three months of calorie counting later, I'm down 15lbs, I've lost most cravings for bad food, and for the most part, I have more energy and feel all around healthier. It's hard to gauge progress when I have to wake up for work at 4.30am most days out of the week; it's difficult to tell the difference between "normal" human tired and "you're too fat" tired. I've even improved my outlook on life a little, and have found ways to brush off those who seek to stress me.

Except there are still people at the gym who annoy the shit out of me.

Addressing -

The Selective Wipers

Where I come from, people don't like coming into contact with strangers' bodily fluids. I thought the "wipe the machine off after you're done" rule was pretty much a given at gyms. Even if you weren't aware, once you see someone else do it, you should pick up the habit.

Yet there are still some people who absolutely don't. There are people who will leave a heart-shaped (or, in most cases, an amorphous shape that vaguely resembles a rotten watermelon) sweat-stain on the seat of a weights machine and walk away to get back on that elliptical for the 6th time that day.

WORSE, there are people who wipe the machines before they start working out, but not after they are done. What in the name of the protein smoothie god type of shit is this?! So wait, you need to wipe off *my* germs, but I'm okay to deal with yours? I'm sorry, do you have some sort of tell-tale angelic halo of cleanliness that we all should understand?

No. You have choices:

a) you wipe after
b) you wipe before and after
c) you wipe after

The Peepers

Stop looking at my treadmill. I have my cell phone up there to hide the time because if I keep checking how long I have left, I will lose desire. I'm not going to move my cell phone. I'm running. You can tell by the way I am breathing hard, moving my legs, and holding my arms.

That thing you're doing? Where you're holding the "heart rate monitor" handles (or, ahaha, the top of the machine) and speedwalking? That's not running. That's moving your legs haphazardly while gripping for dear life. If you have the notion to think about what I am doing up here, you're not working hard enough.

The Confused People With a Lot Of Shit

Most gyms provide lockers, even if you end up having to buy your own lock. (If you cannot afford a $7 combination lock, how are you paying for your gym membership?) Use it. Why are you bringing an entire bag of shit with you into the weight room? Why must it hang off the arm of your treadmill, perilously close to my kneecaps when I'm running on the machine adjacent to you? What do you have in there? What could you possibly need that must be carried in a bag RIGHT NOW?

Also, that bench there isn't for your water bottle, ipod, and keys. It's for people lifting weights.

It's a fitness bench, not a "Place To Rest Your Shit" bench. If you're afraid I'm going to drop a dumbbell on your iPhone should you leave it on the floor, find a better place. I have a suggestion!

The Mat Slapper

So you're on your mat, sweating, working hard, and someone decides they need to lay their mat beside yours to do the same. Sometimes there's no room, and they have no choice.

The proper way to invade someone's space (by choice or circumstance) is to gently lay the mat down as far away as possible.

It is not suggested you SLAM the mat on the ground, creating a dust-particle infused WHIRLWIND of air against me. That's distracting, and gross. All I can think about now is how whatever dirt was on the floor is now clinging to the fine patina of sweat all over my exposed arms and legs.

And, because I like all my lists to have at least five points ---

The Lady Sweating Curry Or Some Other Noxious Spice Out Her Pores

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, JUST MOVE TO ANOTHER TREADMILL. I'M DYING.

Misconceptions.

2011-05-20T15:53:00.002-04:00

It is a supreme misconception that because you live with someone, you will get to spend more time with them.

I'm Surprised They Could Read It (it's in English, after all!)

2011-05-19T22:31:00.003-04:00

Wrote and printed this, then left taped to the wall when I found a box of raisins strewn about. I'm almost certain it's the people on the second floor. The creepy people who are terrified of my 15lb dog, leave their personal stuff all over the bottom floor near the back exit of the building, and who stink up the entire building with their cooking.

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Old, New, Freshly Brewed

2011-05-19T20:20:00.000-04:00

When the economy took a suicidal plunge into the toilet, I assumed it wasn't going to affect me because I was fresh out of college.

Obviously, I was very wrong. After several attempts to sign up for substitute teaching in my hometown and neighboring cities, I realized a few key flaws in my plan:

It was April; they already had a set list of substitute teachers.
The dozens of teachers who were laid off were immediately put on substitute teaching lists.
Schools would rather call them first.
I am never going to get a phonecall.

So... that didn't work either.

So where am I working now? What am I doing? A college graduate with degree in Literature, working at a certain big-name coffee house, heading back to school in September for a teacher certification because hey, at least's that's a job -- and Christie will be out of office by then.

Sad. Wow.

2011-02-28T08:36:00.001-05:00

I just boiled eggs wrong. FML

Either Way, I'd Like a Lolly-pop Afterward

2011-02-16T20:59:00.001-05:00

Sign You’re A Child	Sign You’re An Adult
You flip the f*ck out over getting a shot at the doctor's office.	You flip the f*ck out over having to pay only $5 to get a shot at the county board of health, because you you have no health insurance and were certain that shit was going to cost you like $100+.

Being Screwed Vs. Being Productive

2011-02-09T20:02:00.001-05:00

After being backed into a proverbial corner by most everyone I've discussed my "why can't I find a job?" woes with, I've decided going back to college for my teacher certification. Many people suggested I go back for my MA, others suggested I give up altogether (nice), so this is my method of meeting them halfway. I'm still not 100% on the idea; I need to figure out if teaching high school Literature/English is something I actually want to do, rather than something I think I'd be "reasonably fair" at.

Bad Idea	Good Idea
Getting the certification because I’m already like, 80% done with it.	Getting the certification because I’m already like, 80% done with it.
Teaching high school because everyone else has convinced me I will never find a job in publishing/editing with a BA degree, ever ever ever.	Teaching high school because above everything else, I love to read, write, analyze literature, and explore everything in between.
Spending another few thousand dollars on a certification I’m not entirely sure I want.	Spending money on a certification that will look good on any resume.
Spending the new few months (years?) of my life struggling with freelance work and hoping to find an administrative assistant job for $10/hr at a tiny office.	Working toward a positive goal of a secure (somewhat secure, at least) job with good benefits and OK pay.

As a child I wanted to teach so badly. It was my dream. I loved school. The top 5 reasons I wanted to teach as a child were:

a) the way new notebooks smelled
b) you got to hand out stickers that smelled like food
c) you got to yell at people, and they needed to listen
d) you got to read as many books as you could ever possibly want
e) you helped people understand things

I figure that c) and e) still sort of apply.

The reasons I'm wary of teaching now are things I never considered as a young'un:

a) the sordid apathy of everyone ages 13-20+
b) the complete lack of respect parents consistently fail to teach their children
c) how nowadays, whether or not the kids LEARN is important

I wish it had been so tough when I was younger. I think as long as we made it through a school year without getting a case of head lice and a broken bone we were good?

This Friday I'm meeting with some of Matt's coworkers who have taught high school English, in hopes of finding a direction to lean further in.

Comics + Dogs = Plug Worthy

2011-02-09T19:30:00.000-05:00

I decided I'm going to start plugging other things here. This blog has a specific purpose, though, so I can't be willy nilly about what I'm sharing. That's better left for the poor folk who have friended me on Facebook. That said, I talk about my dog here much more than a blog that's really about "adulthood" should, so I may as well plug this hopefully adorable comic. Yay for pomeranian love!

http://www.ittydog.com/

The artist is someone I've been following on my DeviantArt for a while; he's one of the few comic artists whose posts are humble and humorous. In my opinion the best comic artists are both, not just one or the other.

Apartment Woes

2011-02-08T20:14:00.001-05:00

Every apartment has issues. Rent, neighbors, and location don't matter. When Matt and I first moved in here we had a leak in the ceiling. For weeks we were frothing at the mouth and leaving nasty messages with the building management.

Then I went to speak to someone for an article I was working on whose apartment was infinitely fancier than ours, and got a cold slap of reality.

To start, the building overlooks Manhattan. This is the first indication that it's overpriced living; you need to pay for view of a bunch of buildings a twenty minute bus ride could get you inside of. After I walked through the front doors, I was greeted warmly by a doorman in full regalia* and then directed to a Men In Black style front desk. The lobby of the building was open and quiet; there was just the funny dressed doorman and the squirrelly fellow at the desk. He asked me who I was there to see, called the apartment, and directed me upstairs.

This woman's apartment is roughly three times the size of my apartment. Her living room was as big as my living room, dining room, and kitchen combined. She had French Doors everywhere. French doors that led to her office, her bedroom, her terrace, Narnia. Everywhere.

I took my coat off, eyes squinting against the brilliant sunlight pouring in from her balcony, and she calmly says: "Are you cold? My heat's been off for the last week. I got it back today."

Her heat. Was off. For a week. In January.

One month's rent for her (or mortgage, however it works) is easily, easily approximately 6-8 car payments for me. And that's under-estimating. HER HEAT. WAS OFF. FOR A WEEK.

I don't get so upset about my apartment anymore.

* That's not the doorman, but I think the uniform was the same!

A tribute to 2011's Winter

2011-01-29T09:32:00.001-05:00

That would be a cake. It's my second attempt (in six years) of writing with icing. Awful.

When A Bad Conversation Gets Worse, and Purplish

2011-01-29T00:09:00.011-05:00

Last Sunday my apartment building had no hot water. After consulting my neighbor friend, we both resolved to call the company that manages the property repeatedly in an attempt to get something done. I called, left a message. She called, left a message. It was like relay racing, except we weren't losing weight, just patience. At some point the hot water came back on. I lost my excuse for not doing dishes, and my neighbor got to shower.

Yesterday I got a call from the management company. I assumed it was about the call I'd put in the day before about the key that had broken off in our front door (because the lock was sticking) or the way the back door held onto your key (because the lock was sticking). I was wrong.

Management Secretary Person (MSP): Hi, I'm calling to see if your hot water is working!
Me: .. You mean since Sunday? Yes. Yes, it's been working for the last five days.

What if it hadn't been? What then? What if I had said "No, I've been showering in ice cold water for almost a week. You owe me a new pinky toe because my old one fell off. Also, I've caught pneumonia and my left lung has collapsed. Can you send the super up to fix it?"

MSP: Oh okay, good.
Me: Our front door still has the key stuck in it though. I called yesterday. I think I spoke to you.
MSP: Oh yes, I think I remember that.... what was it exactly?

So I proceeded to repeat the story again, putting emphasis on how the worst part was after you got to the front door and realized you weren't getting in that way, you needed to walk through the abysmally plowed parking lot to get around back.

MSP: Oh my....
Me: Yeah, and then at that point, your pants are wet, and your key sticks in that door, too.
MSP: Oh my! Let me get this down... you know they didn't plow very well where I live, either.
Me: ....Yeah...
MSP: The plow like, pushed snow into my car. And then you know the guy next to my space, he was digging out his own space, and put snow in front of my car!

At this point I saw the conversation veer off track, but wasn't sure how I could respond to get it back. I thought exclaiming "WOW, WHAT A [censored] MORON!" might have been inappropriate, so I just made a sort of noncomittal "Mmm," noise that encouraged her to continue.

MSP: You know my husband did a 360 trying to back out of my parking space because of the snow. I drive a stick.
Me: Oh wow. .
MSP: I just bought new tires, though, so that helps in this weather...

The conversation train was then completely off track, and chugga-chugga'ing away quickly. By now we were officially not talking about MY apartment issues (which is why she had called) and were instead talking about how her husband broke geometric laws of steering by going in reverse with her stick shift car.

At this point you're probably wondering why I didn't just end the conversation. The truth is I don't have an answer. It could have been the friendly voice she had, or the fact I was too dumbfounded to properly rope the conversation in. I ended up making the dire mistake of going along with things.

Me: ... Well, do you have a car that is good in the snow?
MSP: I drive a Scion XB. It's like a school bus. They call it the school bus.
Me: Yeah, I know those cars. My friend has one. It's bright green and we call it 'The Green Box.'
MSP: Oh, they call mine the school bus, but it's not yellow.
Me: Yeah...
MSP: ... I think it's purplish???

At this point the train of conversation was nothing but a speck in the distance, the exhaust of the choo choo engine forming letters in the sky that spelled "I think it's purplish...."

Then my boyfriend came in from the other room in a towel, just out of the shower, and silently mouthed "WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?" while making confused gestures with his free hand.

I silently mouthed "I HAVE NO IDEA" back to him and made accompanying gestures with my free hand.

How did this happen? How did I go from complaining about how both of my building's doors were preventing tenants from entering the building to wondering what the absolute definition of "purplish" meant? And how does one think their own car is purplish? How does one not know? She was already being vague by using an "ish" in her color description; using "I think" is just cheating.

Me: Ahh. That's cool............
MSP: Yeaaah. My husband used to own it but I had to get new tires. I hate to say it but it's because he drives like an idiot. Excuse me for saying idiot.

This really happened. If you've come this far reading this, I salute you. You're probably making the same open mouthed "WHAT IN THE SAM HILL?" face I was making at the time.

Me: Haaah. So anyway, yeah, hot water's working.
MSP: Okay, I will put in this order for the key right away.
Me: Greeeeeeeat. Thanks.

I felt bad for hitting the e-break on her story but I had to. It had been going on four minutes and if I didn't stop it, I'd have to hear about her idiot husband and her purple car until the snow outside melted.

After we hung up I made a quick list of "Things I Now Knew" like I usually do when I talk to anyone who is supposed to be informative.

- She did get my message about the hot water not working. From five days previous.
- She knew both doors were not letting the people who pay rent into the building.
- Her car is not great in the snow, but, she has new tires!
- Her husband drives like an idiot.
- Her car is "purplish."

Then I thought about "Things I Did Not Know Yet"

- When my doors were getting fixed

Since this conversation our front door was fixed. (The back door was WD-40'd by a neighbor.) The next time someone breaks a key off in the lock I'm going to call the Management Secretary Person and explain to her it's too cold to struggle with a key outside because my fingers will turn purplish.

Troubleshooting

2011-01-27T18:15:00.002-05:00

I have burned bacon twice in five days. How is this possible? I used to make bacon all the time.

Freelancers R' Me

2011-01-27T16:36:00.004-05:00

I think there is a certain dichotomy in people's opinions on freelancers and freelance work. People who are decidedly not freelancers seem to either have a highly romanticized theory of what it means to be one, or jump toward the other end of the spectrum and view freelancing as a bad decision that is one step above attempting to shave a rabid polar bear with a Lady Bic.

I've been a "freelancer" for a few months now. I've been selling artwork for months, and picked up a reporter-type-gig for an online newspaper site. So hey, I'm writing.

Here's some general viewpoints I've seen expressed remotely and in person, in juxtaposition of each other:

“They must not need money.”

I’m not even really sure how to explain how backward this theory is, but it seems it’s not quite the majority’s opinion, just a large one. (I’m not sure if I could say people are "half and half" on it since my polling skills are few.) Those who come up with this opinion are generally under the idea that anyone deciding to freelance is just doing it as a side-job, and not as their sole-means of income, and that whatever they earn doing will go toward purchasing things like a gumball machine and bags personalized of M&Ms.

While it's true that, ideally, freelancing remains a side-job, many people rely on it solely as a means of income. In that case they need the money. Very much so. Especially because they may have to pay into their own private health insurance plan.

"I know [such and such] and they make tons of money doing it."

That's completely rare and field-relative. A freelance web designer has a better chance of eating well than a freelance contractor, who often needs insurance policies and licenses to back themselves up in order to be taken seriously. Basing one's opinion on freelancing because you know ONE person who does well on it isn't entirely a good idea.

"They must have been fired from their last job."

This comment makes me laugh, because unemployment generally pays better than those just getting into freelancing.

"They're so lucky not to have a 9-5 schedule."

Yes and no. True, there is generally no 9-5 schedule unless you so entirely stacked up with work that you need to create one for fear of collapsing in on yourself. For the most part, though, freelancers are pawns of everyone else's schedule -- so you might not have to work a steady 8 hours, but sporiadically over the course of a day. It's much more difficult to go out, do what you need to do, come home, relax, then restart that entire process one more time than it is to go out, come back, and not have to work again until morning.

"They must be awful with people."

This could be entirely true, I can't argue with it too much.

"They'd rather be their own boss."

See above.

"They are free to do as much work as they want."

..Yes, after they make enough money for inconsequential things like rent and gas. Then yes. Though most freelancers sign themselves up for contracts in order to guarantee a somewhat steady income, so that's not always the case. And freelancers who aren't completely established in their field are generally looking for work just as much as they are doing it, so the idea of "as much work as they want" goes out the window.

"They must be good at networking."

Not always, but you kind of learn. Or have to be. I'm on my way.

Anything else to add? Feel free!

Late Night Songs

2011-01-13T01:15:00.002-05:00

To the tune of Queen's "Somebody To Love"

Caaaaaaaan
Anybody..
Find me..
A fucking job please?

Each morning I get up I cry a little
Can rarely face my defeat
Boot up my laptop make coffee and sigh,
Curl in a ball and retreat
I have spent all this time in attempting to
find a worthwhile place to work, LORD!
Can anybody find me a fucking job please?

I try hard, every morning and night
I search till my eyes are a blur
By the end of the week I want to reach for my liquor
I refresh Craigslist and
I hope and pray
That they're not some scammers from hell
Lord - somebody, somebody
Can anybody find me a fucking job please?

EVERDAY - I TRY AND I TRY AND I CRY
Eeeeeeeverybody wants my credit score
They have no legit website
They say I am their top candidate that applied
Got a crap address
Jesus christ, they're really using Hotmail!
Yeah yeah yeah yeah

Oh Lord
Somebody - ANYBODY
Can anybody find me a fucking job please?

Got no cash, I got no paycheck
Don't even have health insurance
I'm in debt, things are tight,
I need some better endurance
I just gotta get a real fucking job
Someday I'm gonna get paid, LORD!

Find me a fucking job
Find me a fucking job
Find me a fucking job
Find me a fucking job (repeat as you like)

Can anybody find me... a fucking job?

© to ME. It's a parody and it's all mine. I wrote it.

The Joys of a Not Quite Adult Christmas

2011-01-01T09:31:00.003-05:00

As a child, getting practical gift items at Christmas was a the disappointment of all disappointments. Anything wrapped package that was soft and amorphous was left until last, because you just know they were socks and you'd be fucking damned if you had to find out that was all you were getting to start the morning off with. Then there are the fold-out clothing boxes, which resemble something interesting being that they are square or rectangular packages. You remember: you thought it was quite possible that battery operated remote-control Jurassic Park velociraptor you'd had small aneurysms over whenever you saw the commercial on TV, then you pick up the box and it's half as light as it's supposed to be and you know it's just a fleece from Old Navy. The kind that bunches in all the wrong places, picks up every piece of dust found anywhere on earth, and makes you sweat through second period at school.

As an adult things are different. Especially when you haven't passed the milestones that further entrap you into being an adult, like marriage, kids, a drug dependency, etc etc. As adults we realize we need things like socks and sweaters, and except them graciously, but still experience a surge of joy when we get presents that aren't practical or necessary but are downright awesome.

Not Quite Adults get the best presents, because people assume they're too young to get ALL serious gifts, but too old to get ALL "just for fun" items. We get the best of both worlds.

Here are some of my highlights:

SERIOUS, PRACTICAL GIFT

The Nook. An adult present, to be sure.
Ignoring the fact I have about a dozen or so actual books I haven't read yet, I wanted this because I've recently created a new habit of carrying two journals (one for creative fiction ideas, another one for my own personal thoughts) and a sketchbook with me everywhere I go. The Nook is lighter than most paperbacks, so now reading material can come with me too.

NOT SO SERIOUS GIFT

It's a fox hat! It's incredibly warm, and it has a face. I took these pictures seconds after waking up so there was no way in hell I would be posing. Mason helped.

SERIOUS GIFT

A beautiful Coach wristlet, which matches another bag I have. I love this print!

NOT SO SERIOUS GIFT, EXCEPT MAYBE IT IS, I DON'T REALLY KNOW

These are so spectacular I saved them until last, not only because they amused me so much I almost choked on my Christmas Eve dinner, but because I'm not sure how to categorize them. Adult? Not Quite Adult? Completely impractical? I don't care, they're just that fantastic.

They're double sided "Road Rage" signs, so I've paired them up: top is one side, bottom is the flip side.

Fan-freaking-tastic. There was also the obligatory excuse to exercise gift, and a collection of cute socks (which fall into either category, being colorful but yet practical).

The Boy refuses to put away our
formidable swag pile, because apparently that marks the end of Christmas. The calendar stating it's now January doesn't. Clearing all this up does.

Happy New Year, Everyone!

2010 Holiday Decorations, and a New Addition!

2010-12-18T14:02:00.000-05:00

I'm not really great at decorating. (I am, apparently, fabulous at watching The Fresh Prince reruns.) Dressing up the square wall mounted DVD case as a giant giftbox was an idea I still feel I have rights to boast over. Being neither a crafty person nor a fan of Christmas, I think I set the bar with this. I suppose it's been done before but not by me! It took me roughly an hour, I dropped scissors on my feet twice, and it's very "patchwork."

Everyone remembers Elkton John, yes?

Now there's "Rack Hudson," or "Antler Lambert," for younger folk.
They hang out together on the shelf above our television.

I don't have a lot of space to put random decorations, so these guys are on my bookshelf. They're not my preferred style of decoration but Matt likes things like this. I am amused by the copy of Bram Stoker's Dracula behind them.

Kids Vs Adults : Getting Sick

2010-12-18T01:09:00.004-05:00

Getting sick as an adult is an absolute curse. The older we are, the less capable we become. We simply can't deal with it. At the first sign of a sniffle we go into panic mode.

I haven't had health insurance since I graduated college. The prospect of paying for healthcare out of pocket has gained the same status on my mental shelf of "DEAR GOD, NO, ANYTHING BUT THAT" as car accidents and month-long vacations with my family. At the first sign of a sniffle I completely freak out. I dust off the multivitamin bottles I haven't touched since the last time I felt a tickle and start taking 3000mg of Vitamin C at a time, in an attempt to beat it to the punch. I forget the back-stock of decongestants stacked on top of the fridge and have Matt bring home half the pharmacy. I break out the Neti Pot (yes, the Neti Pot).

Some adults skip panicking and just go into denial. "I'm not sick. I can't be sick, so I'm not sick," and they show up to work with tissues and Advil Cold & Sinus and leave their will to live at home. Then everyone else avoids that person and sprays their most recent location with half a can of Lysol.

We weren't like this as children, though. Do you remember what it was like being sick as a child? You got to stay home, watch TV, eat whatever you wanted, play the same Disney VHS over and over again. At age seven, I'd zip up and down the house with a 101 degree fever singing songs from All Dogs Go to Heaven. Now when I get sick, I build a nest on my couch that would put a reed warbler into a jealous rage. As a kid I became a miniature Rembrant; being sick meant I could draw all freaking day. Now I barely have the drive to shower, much less tap into my creative energies.

I've been sick for almost a week now. On day four, when I decided I was no longer dealing with a "common cold" and could possibly be facing a "tiny inconvenient plague" I visited a nearby CVS Minute Clinic and paid $79 to receive the advice "Drink lots of water and blow your nose often." Somewhere between passing out at random intervals and finding chunks of my nose on the floor due to excessive blowing, I did this:

Sorry it's so big, I'm still getting used to how Blogger resizes things.

Paraphrasing Turkeys

2010-12-05T01:19:00.004-05:00

I'm not really a holiday person. I think there are a lot of people out there like me. I'm just not related to them. This year my Naples, Italy born mother managed to cancel and reestablish an American holiday within a span of two hours.

Sorry for the shitty art.

The Squeaky Wheel

2010-12-02T10:22:00.003-05:00

In light of my recent "professional" experience, I called my school's career center to spread the warning, since that was how the fellow found me.

Me: Hi, my name is .. and I was recently hired by someone who found my resume on the career center website.
Her: Oh that's great! :D :D :D
Me: .. Aheheh. One second.
Her: ..
Me: It was one of the most awful experiences. Ever.

So I told her everything, because what do I have to lose? She told me she would be taking action and a few days later called me to inform me that not only did she restrict his access (meaning he can't ~~prey on~~ look for my school's student resumes anymore.

_____________________________________________________

I used to be very shy when I was younger, and then as time went on I started moving in the opposite direction. When my mouth started getting me into trouble, I slid back, and now have found a happy medium. But I'm never afraid to stand up for myself. No one should be. People are right. The squeaky wheel gets the oil!

Edit 1/5/11:

Today I did a search on my school's career center site and THIS company was the first result. I clicked and found that their profile page is running around their secondary name, which means that they either a) had a second account all along or b) created a new account after finding their primary one being banned.

Also, they accessed my resume on 12/14/10, which is more than two weeks after they didn't-but-did-fire me. I called my school once again to give them a heads up and complain all over again. I learned that apparently two of the women at the company had done a presentation for eco-friendly jobs at my college. I assume it is Blonde Girl and HR Bitch, as those are the only two females that have understandable accents.

Less than half an hour later they called to say the secondary company name is now blocked, and the career center director actually plans on visiting the company.

We'll see.

First Real Office Jobs

2010-11-18T00:41:00.104-05:00

Several weeks ago I was interviewed by a local new "green" company for the position of a "Gal Friday." I think the fact they expected anyone under the age of twenty-five to know that term displays a certain level of delusion I completely missed going in. After my first interview was another two, then a test day, and then two steady weeks of employment before I was asked by the HR department/One Girl "not to come in for a week, week and a half," as the downstairs office they were reconstructing for all the new employees was not yet complete. Apparently me using any available desk was fine for two weeks, but then suddenly became problematic.

Interview One
The Vice President/CEO/Big Boss person who had scheduled the interview and spoken to me twice on the phone didn't bother coming in to actually interview me. I ended up meeting with one of his salesmen. Since he had not read my resume yet, I sat quietly while he scanned it in front of me, and then took out a pad and pen and began asking me standard working questions. The interview went well. I told him what I was looking for, he told me what they were looking for, I gave him availability, etc.

Hours later, Salesman called me saying "VP is back in the office now. Can you come back in?" It was ten minutes before 5pm. I was already on my way to my retail job at the time and so told them I would see them tomorrow.

Interview Two
I finally meet VP/CEO/BB who keeps me there roughly two hours. The first hour of the interview I said maybe two words. He did the talking. All the talking. I learned about everything he's accomplished academically and professional since he was 18 years old, from the 3+ degrees, the "many successful" business ventures, and how he was "too awesome" for one school, so he went to another. I wish I could make this stuff up. After killing the spotlight on himself, he began explaining who (or rather, what) his staff was compiled of, using ethnic markings to describe various workers. Salesman was Jewish, so he was" great with money", and Communications Girl is blonde and "super German," so she's very tough and great with details, but just needs a little help with writing. At this point VP --- who is "super" Italian, and openly admitted he "didn't mind" that I was Italian, too -- explained he was thinking of me more as an office manager position. He had interviewed two other women and had them on board for a while, but, he didn't know if it was "because they were old, or what," but they apparently "sucked." According to his opinions (backed by his umpteen many degrees), old women suck because they are set in their ways. He wanted someone young.

He brought up payment. I gently reminded him he'd promised me X amount a year. He asked how much it was an hour, and I quickly replied with a dollar amount. He laughed at the way I had the information stored, and I responded "I did my homework."

Then he says: "You seem really wary. Do you not trust me?"

Without missing a beat I reply: "I'm Italian, remember? I don't trust anyone."

He laughs, I'm thinking we move on, and then he says ------

"I interviewed another girl who didn't trust me. I was sitting there wondering if she had daddy issues. I was all 'oooh, did she get touched or something as a kid? I dunno.' "

Yeah, incest and molestation jokes! This is general 2nd interview stuff, right?

Interview Three
I'm actually a little hazy on this one. I think at this point they were blending together into one horrified mass of racist remarks and inappropriate conversation. In fact, I didn't remember there was a third one until checking email correspondence. (BTW, the VP of this company doesn't know you're supposed to type the body of the email before your ingrained signature. So all his emails came to me in pt 16 bold green italic TNR font.) After Interview 2, he had asked me to email him why I wanted to work with his company. I did so, and he emailed me back with:

Criss...

Can you come in again to chat? Are you free today?

Thx!

I replied no, I couldn't come in that day, but I could come in 11am the next morning if that was alright. He said yes. At 10.30am he sent me another email "Can we make it 3pm?" I said yes, took off my coat, and sat around my apartment for another few hour wondering what the hell I was doing with my life.

During this third interview, he tells me he doesn't think I would be "happy" doing the office manager position, and instead I will be a sort of "assistant" to the Director of Communications. (The aforementioned "super German" chick.) He walks me out and tells me to come in the next Monday.

That Monday, seconds before I left my apartment, at 8.15am, HR Department/One Girl called me and asked for me to start a week later. Therefore delaying my start date an entire week. I made plans and started working on my second job -- a freelance community website gig -- only to get a phone call to come in that Friday for three hours as a 'test day,' instead of Monday morning.

Working Day/Test Day
So this is my 4th visit to the office. I showed up with a smile and my common sense at home. Ignoring the sinking feeling in my stomach, I expressed enthusiasm at being put right to work. Nothing entirely of note happened this day except for the first ten minutes. I was put into a conference room with Blonde (aka Super German, but I don't want to refer to her as that), who was writing a letter to a corporate official. I was told I was to help her with some of the wording and phrasing. She left the room and within a second, VP appears while I am typing, defying the laws of physics entirely by moving silently.

Him: Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.
Me: *Gently inclines head up, begins to look away from keyboard.*
Him: Look at me.
Me: *Looks.*
Him: Listen to me.
Me: *Attempts to perk ears up in a canine like fashion.*
Him: I love this girl to death, right? I love her. But she can't fucking write for shit. So you write the way I know you can. ***
Me: ...........................Mkay.

At some point he held a meeting in the same room I was working in. Suddenly I caught on that he was speaking about me to his clients with a jerking of his thumb. "She's in Marketing." So I guess that was my official title.

The Next Two Weeks
Things carried along this vein. The fact VP reminded me of my father should have been a huge red flag, but the hours and pay are/were great so I toughed it out. I had listened to inappropriate language my whole young adult life for free. Now that I was being paid, it seemed like a step up.

- The terms "Arab bastard," "super Jew," "motherfucker," "assholes," "douchebags," were regularly strewn about, along with other ethnic and sexist jokes. Including something about some woman sitting on someone's face.
- The HR department**** (which consists entirely of one girl, my age)/Asst Manager is a friend of VP's family, and therefore took the opportunity to yell and berate VP every chance she got. There is a whole level of awkwardness reserved to hearing someone who is more or less in your peer group call the VP of the company you work for a "fucking dumbass."
- I was asked to plagiarize copy from other websites, because Blonde was against it. I was also asked to falsely advertise company product. I managed to do neither while convincing him I did.
- Despite being hired as hourly and clocking in ten to fifteen minutes early daily, my first paycheck was salary so I lost 2+ hours of my life. And pay. Mostly my life.
- Despite signing the necessary paperwork so that taxes would be removed and I would not be 1099'd, they didn't take out taxes.

The Two Weeks After Payday, When I Was Asked to "Not Come In"

Over the next two weeks I called, emailed, and left messages in an attempt to learn when I should be expected to come back. I managed to get in contact with someone twice. Both times when I called from a phone that was not my cell phone. (Which means that my name wouldn't show up on the caller ID. Paranoid? Me? Maybe.) Finally, the second Monday, I "caught" the Vice President/CEO/Big Boss on the phone.

Him: [NAME!]
Me: Heey, it's [me.]
Him: *Dead silence for 3 seconds, then, cheerfully* Hey, how are you.
Me: Good. And you?
Him: Crazy. *Chuckling.* How can I help you? ((Here I thought 'Really? Did you really just ask me that? After I have left you three messages?'))
Me: Well, I'd like to know if I still have a job. ((Yes, just like that.))

Him: Things have been kind of crazy here.. we've experienced some set backs.. major set backs... we all just got back from a business trip in St. Louis....they ended up finding like four feet of mold in the walls of the office downstairs so the Board of Health wants us out of the whole building... but, I mean, as far as part time work goes, we haven't really looked at the websites.. we're sort of having IT problems... but I have you on my radar, so.
Me: .....
Him: Once we have work, I have no problem calling you back in.
Me: ....Ok, well I guess that's it, then. You'll just.. call me whenever and I'm going to go look for another job..?
Him: Well I think [HR Bitch] told you---
Me: ---*Cutting him off, now not really feeling the need to stay polite.* ...She told me I would be back in two weeks. Back to work.
Him: Right, but we just don't have work for you. Once we do, I am happy to call you ---
Me: ---but weren't you going to call to tell me you didn't plan on having me back?
Him: *With severe attitude* ..Well we will, WHEN WE HAVE WORK---
Me: I understand there's no work, but no one was going to let me know that I didn't have a job there anymo----
Him: ---You know what Criss, let me end this conversation, thank you very much for your time. *hangs up*

Aaaaaaaaand that was it. Exactly one month of having a job, two weeks of which I got paid.
___

I don't want to make it sound like I was in absolute hell while serving time here, because really I wasn't. I mean, doughnuts and bagels were often supplied for breakfast. Oh, and they have one hell of a coffee machine! The kind where you put in a little solitary cup of flavored whatever you please and it pours just enough for your cup. I was given a laptop to use and a chair, and pens. I mean .. not all bad. I even got blue post-its.

What I Have Learned About Real Entry-Level Office Jobs

- Titles mean little to nothing. I am, technically, a Junior Level Assistant To the Assistant Director of Communications and Marketing. If I had to pick. And yes, 'to the.' (I love The Office too!)
- "Definitions" of "professionalism" change wherever you go. The last day I worked -- three interviews, a test day, and two working weeks in -- I was told I needed to cover up a tattoo I have because it "just wasn't professional." (Perhaps I can regain some cred by making inappropriate jokes or calling someone a "fucking idiot" aloud.)
- Grab your free bagel FAST.
- Half the time, when you are asked to do something, it is because the person asking a) doesn't want to do it, or most likely, b) cannot.
- Email etiquette only applies to outside the office communication.
- As does general politeness.

*** He knows I can write because somewhere between Interview 1 and 2 he read some samples I brought in. He had assured me he wanted to read my creative writing. During Interview 2 or 3 he informed me that he'd allowed everyone in the office to read my vampire fiction and that "everyone was making fun of me" and I was known as 'vampire girl.' Haha...ha..............ha........ha.

****I could devote an entire blog entry to the poetic irony of the company's only HR representative being the most tactless person I have ever met -- and I'm from Brooklyn! -- but it's not amusing so much as incredibly frustrating.

Dicphering Job Descriptions

2010-10-09T04:02:00.001-04:00

Whenever potential employers call me in response to job inquiries I immediately pull up Notepad on my laptop and start taking notes. While they're talking, I type furiously so at the end of the phone call I will have basic info and a general description of the job they're calling me about.

I recently got a call about a job that would be with A Company That Owns Another Company that Does Business with Another Company that distributes free publications from... Some Other Company. Over the phone it sounded pretty sweet, and exactly what I'm looking for at the moment. Administrative, part time, paying more than $9/hr. The company was a distribution center for free publications -- you know, the little magazines you see on those dinky metal racks on your way out of Blockbuster or the supermarket? Those. This company puts those out there.

Two phone calls later, I had an interview. The degrees of separation between company names didn't bother me so much as the fact there was no sign on the door. 80D was just that; 80D. There was no lobby, no desk, no receptionist. You might think that was a good thing, since ideally I was looking into being the administrative person. So after I stepped around a few empty cardboard boxes, over a batch of wires, and poked my head into the first office, I was met with a man who looked like an aging version of every open-shirt, hairy chest character ever. We'll call him Dick, not that he was one.

He and the other guy I met were friendly enough. The older gentleman (not Dick) wore jeans and a plaid shirt. I felt over dressed in my skirt and heels. Sitting there, wondering if my jacket was bunching inappropriately, I was tag teamed as they began to explain in vivid detail what my job would be. Not if I got it -- what it would be. They went on to explain how people were getting fired so they could hire me. On a more cheery note, they explained that two other girls were leaving because there was "no money left in it for them." So, they saw my resume and liked me. They liked my background, my resume, and there it was. As I was given a brief tour and then once again asked to sit down in front of a 6ft tall map of the state, one thing became clear:

THEY WERE HUGE FUCKING LIARS.

Everything I had been told over the phone was a grossly manipulated to sound like, uhm, a real entry level job. In reality, it was a ridiculous job that pays well, yes, but requires you to be driving 85% of your day. $150/week for a car allowance is NOT worth the wear and tear on your vehicle.

Here's a table to help better understand the fuckassery of this interview. On the left are actual phrases I typed during my Notepad/Phone Call session (that is, what I was TOLD about the job); on the right is what I learned during the interview.

What They Said	What They Meant
$15/hr	$15.47/hr
No Benefits	No Benefits
Looking for a person to be part of the [City] *team* who would be:	Looking for a person who will be part of the [City] branch, but actually working alone everyday and:
Responsible for operations management and support the general manager	Drive to dozens of stores to check on the free publication magazine racks and make sure the person who was there yesterday delivering them set it up right
Assisting the general manager in contracting and supervising	^ If not, tell the general manager
Manage trucks coming in and out	Unload magazines off truck and onto pallets in the warehouse
Assist in scheduling	Do things at .. times.
Monitoring delivery of product	Delivering magazines all over the fucking place
Dealing with distribution service center issues	Cleaning the warehouse when it gets dirty
Some cleaning	Cleaning the warehouse when it gets dirty, as well as wiping down magazine racks in stores when people’s shitty children stick gum and other fluids to them
Do anything necessary in coordinating routes	Taking on someone’s route when they call out of work
Be able to lift at least 25lbs	Lift heavy stacks of magazines on a daily basis, be it onto shelves, pallets, off a truck, onto a truck, into my car, out of my car

Needless to say, I'm turning them down. They asked me to call them if I was interested (I had said I needed to mull it over and compare possible numbers of car insurance hikes vs. pay) and I'll be giving them the big N-O in the next day or two.

No really. They said it twice. It was not a joke. I DID NOT BUY A $25 SKIRT FROM MACY'S TO DRIVE A FORKLIFT, TYVM.

Troubleshooting From Home

2010-10-05T09:16:00.000-04:00

TEXTS SEND TO BOYFRIEND'S PHONE:
I think our lamp just broke. The one in the far corner. Multicolored heads.

I mean. It was $20. So. LOL. But. :\ EVERY SINGLE BULB went dark. I just switched one out and tried clicking it. Nothing.

Maybe fuse?

OK, it was a fuse. I played with the box (hehe) but the blowout killed a few bulbs. NVM.

Halloween Decorations

2010-09-30T23:55:00.001-04:00

If people click back to earlier posts they might remember the day I bought these lamps. I took a picture then in my delirious joy of having decorative $3 lamps from CVS. We didn't have an apartment yet. Here was the original pic:

Almost a year later, and they're nestled up next to my Ecto-1.

I'm not sure if these are easily visible, but the top ice cube is in the shape of a pumpkin, and the lower one is the shape of a skull. These trays were $1 and they brought me joy. I washed them out before using them since they were, after all, from a $1 store. So hopefully they will just bring me joy, and not salmonella.

I was tempted to get this klassy piece, if only for my boyfriend's reaction, but I'm almost certain it would scare our dog.

I bought these tall-skinny-metal-canister-face-things-with-candle-inside objects last year, too. They've been sitting in a closet until I brought them out.

The only other decorations I have thus far are some very pathetic window cling things I got at the $1 store with the trays. They're tacky and reminiscent of grade school cat-lady teacher kitsch decor so I'm not going to bother with uploading them.

I hope to visit a store that might carry better decorations. Ones that might cost so much as $4 within the week. Stay tuned!

Edit 10/11/10 : Happy Columbus Day! Here's what else I picked up today:

And some additions made:

See? Pumpkins.

Yet More Unforeseen Circumstances

2010-09-27T01:45:00.000-04:00

A good friend of min gave me a great idea for a blog topic. Before making this move I tried to think of all the possible snags that would appear. I figured thinks like forgetting to water my ONE PLANT, loose hinges, leaks, and running out of milk would happen, but the little things I completely missed out on. I'm compiling a list, but so far here's a few things I did not see coming:

- After washing my hands, I reach for the hand towel hanging behind the sink, but the motion splashes the water from my fingertips onto the wall just a little. I know this because there are singular lines that appear lighter than the rest of the wall; aka: where the water dripped down.

- SOMEONE WHO IS NOT ME splashes the shower curtain with the ferociously spiraling head of the electric toothbrush, so that, right beside the sink, there are snow-like patterns on the chocolate brown drapery.

- Closed curtains = privacy, but abysmal darkness; Open curtains = refreshing sunlight, but people seeing me half dressed.

- It doesn't matter if the dog isn't allowed on the sofa or not, his fur still flies EVERYWHERE.

- I maintain that the cabinets open up after I leave the kitchen. I do not leave them open no matter what Matt says, and unless he has it on video then he's SOL.

- There is someone in the building who enjoys vomiting on the carpeted stairs leading to the exit. I say enjoys because it's happened twice, so far, and the stairs lead to the exit. So instead of stepping outside to empty out the entirety of their stomach (which twice now has appeared to be bird seeds, popcorn, and pasta), they hover over the stairs leading to my apartment and go to town.

- I need multiple reminders to take food out of the freezer so we can eat the next day.

More to come.

Retail Angst

2010-09-24T00:25:00.004-04:00

Cross-blogging this comic I created a few weeks ago, because I had a rough night at work tonight (I'm working part time retail while supplementing it with freelance writing, artwork and possibly a quasi-journalist position starting tomorrow).

hint: Click comic to have it show in another browser window, then click it again to magnify.

Late Night Letters

2010-09-23T03:55:00.003-04:00

There have been quite a few changes for me on the 'Get a Job, Adult Person!' front, but it's too late for me to go into detail at the moment. However, what could possibly help summarize the way I have been feeling is this letter I sent to my college. C/P from my Facebook:

I sent this letter to the career center of my college, the incoming freshmen activity board, and the Literature convener. I also FWD'd a copy to the school newspaper, with the disclaimer ".... feel free to use my editorial but please give me credit and sandwiches, as, being a college graduate without a job, I am often very hungry."

From: ME!

Date: Tue, Sep 21, 2010 at 12:23 PM

Subject: Career Help

To: (Not Helpful Lady in Career Center)

Cc: (More Unhelpful People)

Hello,

I graduated from [school] in May of 2009 with a BA in Literature.

Since then I have been encouraged by my family and friends to supplement my job search by contacting the career development center of my alma mater in hopes of securing a job with this very unique degree that I have been informed should not be used as a coaster no matter how nice the coffee table I bought from Target is. I've politely tried to remind everyone that back when they attended school, college was probably different, what with the lack of the Internet and it generally being a far superior source of information than geriatric hobbyists, but they seem adamant. Therefore, I've decided to meet them all halfway and email the career center and other offices of related interest, but only to make a few suggestions.

Having to write repetitive papers on basically the exact same topic for five years, I've learned you get a passing grade when you get right to the point. Without further ado...

You should hand out a pamphlet to all incoming Literature majors simply titled

"Don't Want To Teach? Then You're Screwed: A Unidirectional Guide To Being a Literature Major"

This pamphlet shouldn't be long, since the curriculum doesn't really allow for today's modern day college student to read anything in full anyway. In fact, I propose the cover to have bright, block lettering displaying concise directions so incoming students won't fail to consider it while balancing their impossible workload and full time job (which they need in order to pay for silly things like gas and textbooks.) The text should read as follows:

1) Want to teach? Open pamphlet.

2) Don't want to teach? Look at the back of this pamphlet.

Inside, for those willing to subject themselves to the general apathy of today's public education system, insert one of those convincing stock images of a Caucasian girl in her mid-twenties with minimal makeup and a bright smile, looking up hopefully to the sky. Have her holding a Virginia Woolf novel and her diploma. Across the silly square hat with the tassel, have the words "You're set!" Maybe add a rainbow in the background.

On the back, for those given vague promises of illustrious positions in the "Editing/Publishing field" --- the only viable option college ever presented to all Literature majors but never really explained in helpful detail---, copy/paste a .jpg of a multi-line office telephone, and in Times New Roman (double spaced, 12pt!) put a caption asking "Can you answer one of these?"

Since this pamphlet will be specifically designed for Lit majors, you needn't overtly explain that the Not Teaching option means their best bet is to look into being a secretary that pays $9.50/hr. After many years of reading Charlotte Perkins Gilman's "The Yellow Wallpaper" multiple times, all Lit majors are able to understand thinly veiled subtexts.

To be even more helpful, you could attempt dedicating a tiny section of [shitty school website] to Lit majors who came to college thinking it would be a good idea not to explore helpful majors like Business Administration, Nursing, and Burger Flipping. I think creating this specific page would be best left for the 705th overhaul of [school]'s official website, perhaps when more Flash, tabs, and slideshows of smiling kids in school sweatshirts have been added. On this page you could go into further detail about how understanding the impetus behind Henrik Ibsen's best work won't actually help them use Excel in order to create spreadsheets for their potential future employer(s) who just want a more organized way to categorize their collection of 80's Synth Pop.

Overall, creating more realistic expectations and less idealistic goals should be at the top of the [career] Center's objectives list. I know helping kids construct resumes is a very important job, but more important is making sure the motivation behind developing them is "I have a great set of skills I honed in my years with [school]" and not "God, please, I'll work anywhere, except I don't actually know anything." The fact that my resume manages to fit on one page, is aligned correctly, and details my previous employment in fancy little bullets doesn't counter-act the fact that the last five years of my life have been less useful for me than the six months I spent in my junior year of high school learning how to type.

I'm assuming I won't get a reply, because answering direct statements/questions was never something any counselor/administrator/office personnel at [school] was ever any good at, but I'm hopeful and looking to the sky!

Sincerely,

ME!

P.S. Do you want me to try to design this pamphlet for you? Since graduation I've taken up a variety of odd-jobs like dog walking, painting (walls, not canvas), and amateur graphic design to keep me living the high life of a college graduate. I'd be honored to give back to [school].

____________

No reply from anyone at the college (or the local newspaper I sent it to) but I shall keep you guys posted.

____________

Edit: The school newspaper contacted me within a few days, the career center ... "replied." The first response is the school newspaper. The second was what I believe to be a mass email (though if so, she BCC'd everyone else) from the career center that MAY have only gotten to me because they have my resume. It's not a reply, really.

Hi Criss,

I'm confused as to what you mean by pamphlet. Did you want this to be an
editorial?

Thanks,
[ Genius from Newspaper ]

****

Wednesday Oct 6, 3-4:30 PM
SC-219

Looking for a career that matters? The Cahill Center for Experiential Learning and Career Services is hosting a panel program featuring representatives from various federal and state agencies to share information on career opportunities, requirements and tips for the application process. According to the Partnership for Public Service research (www.ourpublicservice.org), the federal government will fill more than 50,000 entry-level jobs in the next 12 months, along with about 60,000 paid internships. There are jobs and internships available for every interest, in all 50 states and around the world! Attend this program and learn about hot jobs and cool internships and how a career in government might be right for you.

For more information contact [the head of the career center person]

Monster.com Didn't Mention This One

2010-08-30T12:24:00.000-04:00

After searching for book/magazine publishing companies in NJ for nearly two hours, and applying to a variety of them, I came across one publisher on a listing from manta.com that had a casual, fun name. Thinking that could be interesting (and assuming it was a publication for young people) I search for the URL for ...

Swank Magazine.

Wow, just wow. Apparently I was the only person in the world who didn't know they were a hardcore porno mag. WELL THEN! Moving on.

Later:

Matt: By the way, "High Society" magazine isn't about Wall Street.

It's Matt's Birthday Today.

2010-08-26T13:19:00.002-04:00

Me: I just burped, and tasted peppermint. I haven't eaten peppermint in months. What the hell?

Him: That is arguably the classiest thing you have ever said to me. You are one delicate flower.

Shhhhhhhhhzzzzzooooooom.

2010-08-23T14:09:00.003-04:00

I just spent a good minute dusting a high-scale light saber replica toy.

Oh yeah, we're adults.

You Know You're A Messy Person When....

2010-08-20T11:04:00.000-04:00

While you're making a bowl of cereal, your dog runs into the kitchen and stops to stare at the floor. This is because you spill cereal onto the floor every single time, and the dog has caught on by now.

It Only Took 9 Months To Realize

2010-08-13T14:11:00.000-04:00

My television swivels. I can angle it toward me when I sit on the desktop computer. Huh.

Grasshopper vs. Us

2010-08-11T21:37:00.001-04:00

We get tree beetles a lot, but this was our first grasshopper. My first grasshopper ever. I saw it fly by my head up to the top of the bookshelf and cried out: "HOLY SH*T, THAT WAS A F*CKING CANOE WITH WINGS." Matt got up to go look at what it was, and abruptly slapped his hand over his mouth.

Then I started filming. I filmed this with my HTC Evo, which is the only video camera I had readily available. So I'm aware it's dark, blurry, and unclear. Still funny though! Also, forgive my voice, I'm terribly ill.

Murphy's Law for Canines

2010-08-07T01:01:00.001-04:00

12.30am in our Living Room

Dog: *Picks up his hard plastic bone and begins gallivanting about the apartment, tossing it casually against the hardwood floor, to the neighbors' downstairs delight, no doubt.*

Matt: Mason, no. Give me that. Find a quiet toy.

Me: Give him something that doesn't squeak... *goes to dog's cabinet of supplies, toys, etc.*

Matt: I wouldn't mind a squeaky toy, but he can't bang a hard plastic bone around on the floor. The people downstairs are gonna kill us.

Me: Here, Mason, your fox.

Matt: Doesn't that squeak?

Me: It has a squeaker, but he doesn't know how to make it squeak. He hasn't figured it out yet. He just chews the ears. *makes toy squeak once for dog, hands it to him.*

****** Three minutes later ******

Dog: *runs by, fox toy in mouth, squeaking it madly.*

Me: ............

Matt: .........

Dog: *continues to gleefully make toy squeak for the next twenty minutes, prancing happily around the apartment, apparently very proud of himself.*

Me: ..........

Dog: *approaches us, chomping voraciously.* SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK. *eyes us. tail wag.* SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK.

Bad Blogger, Bad!

2010-08-06T11:20:00.001-04:00

I haven't posted here in a long time because, well, as it turns out, we're not actually that bad at this whole... living together thing.

What's Changed Since My Last Post

I quit my job. It was a long overdue decision; the environment was toxic to say the least, and while I will miss the animals, I certainly won't miss anything else. Quitting a full time double-digit an hour job prompted me to learn how to defer student loans. As it turns out, deferring them is a) not that uncommon and b) not that difficult. Apparently everyone and their brother has done it. Which explains why school is so expensive in the first place. We're contributing to our own vicious cycle. A small part of me that enjoys feeling consistently guilty wonders if my younger friends missed out on financial aid because my older friends won't pay their loans.

I took a part time job in retail again, partially out of desperation and partially as a favor to a friend (my boss). He was kind enough to give me an immediate position, so for the summer I am a retail employee again. I worked with the company from the ages of 17-19, then again from 21-22. I'm not exactly a newbie, despite working in a different location now, but with retail things change so quickly refresher courses are almost always a necessity. Donning the uniform shirt was difficult. I stood in the mirror for a few minutes wondering how I had managed to time-travel seven years back in time. Before college, before a car, before a boyfriend, an apartment, a dog, I had worked here. Now I'm here again.

Except there's a difference. I feel older. One of my coworkers is a nineteen year old who is, for lack of a better term, intense. For me to call someone else intense is impressive. For me to think someone else needs to "chill" is remarkable. She's been nothing but friendly in her attempts to educate me in the ways of store operations, though. She's not bossy....just wired. Whenever she starts a tangent on the intricacies of displaying printer ink on shelves, part of me wants to grab her shoulders and slowly mouth "CALM...DOWN." Perhaps this is her first "real" job, and she hasn't learned yet that her retail work is, like most everyone's job, low on the scale of Life's Most Important Factors.

I also figure it's because for the better part of two years I was taking care of people's pets. I can only imagine how mothers/daycare workers feel. (I never want to find out, I can just only imagine.) For 24 months, 40+ hours a week, I was watching over peoples' livelihood. Their animals. Their babies. Living, breathing, interactive beings with health requirements, emotional needs, mental processes. I had to keep them safe, happy, and well behaved. Making sure notebooks lay straight on a shelf just doesn't seem as important.

I got into a car accident. My flip flop got caught under my accelerator (or break?) and I literally could not stop my car. Forced to make the choice between angling my vehicle and clip the gigantic Jeep in front of me or steering around them and coming to a stop by meeting up with a tree or a house, I hit the car. My insurance premium gets evaluated again in January. It's an understatement to say I'm a little concerned about how expensive it's going to get.

I turned 24 four days before the accident. Quitting my job immediately basically eradicated more than 75% of my everyday stress, and my creativity has flown even more so than when I graduated. If anyone is interested in my art, search 'crissx' on Deviantart.

Lessons I Have Learned The Hard Way

- The smaller piece of steak always cooks faster than the bigger one. I forget this. All the time.
- A good way not to get sauce EVERYWHERE when cooking it is to cook a lot at once. It bubbles less.
- Don't drive in flip flops. Did I mention that? Oh, sorry.
- Coworking relationship + outside of work friendship = big hairy mess.

Other Updates

Our dog is coming along. Due to the sudden way in which I left my job, the snail-like pace of his separation anxiety training became impossible. We're now trying a more "sink or swim" method, and we leave him up to two hours. There's often lots of barking -- a matter not helped by the fact two other dogs on our floor do the same -- and some small accidents by the door, but nothing else. He doesn't touch any of our things or "go" anywhere but directly in front of the door.

(Old, old picture....)

My apartment is always clean. At first I thought I could credit myself to this, but then I realized it's probably because Matt and I just don't do much in it. We sit on the couch to read, or draw, or write. The most maintenance required is dusting and Swiffering every few days, because of the dog.

It's still relatively empty of decor. I've purchased one piece of wall art.

From Kohls! It's on the far side of the apartment, distant enough from the two vintage Star Wars posters that I'm comfortable describing the SW corner as the 'kiddie wing.' (I kidding. I love them. <3 Matt!)

A Promise

I'm going to try to be better about updating. I've started carrying a 'writing journal' with me almost everywhere, to jot down creative ideas for private writing, public writing, art, comics, etc. Everyone is free to poke me or suggest ideas!

A good friend of ours is getting married today.

2010-05-14T17:09:00.004-04:00

Matt [holding a tie]: Do you know how to tie one of these?
Me: ....Noo....
Matt: [twists mouth]
Me: We can look it up on Google?

Oh hey. http://www.tie-a-tie.net/

Advice Shmavice! A Multifaceted Post

2010-04-27T01:18:00.001-04:00

Things are going wonderfully. Since my last post we've put up two shelves and two framed pictures of Matt and I. I think a good next step would be to put up photographs of other friends and loved ones. Otherwise, if the only photos we have up are ones of the two of us, we're going to look creepy. Or arrogant. Or both.

Mason is coming along nicely. The separation anxiety is kind of a pain in the you-know-what, but a bigger pain is dealing with the misplaced advice and opinions from everyone else! Luckily Matt is very supportive of the methods we are using to deal with it -- safe, happy, professional methods. Unfortunately there has been little to no support from a lot of our respective families, which makes the whole situation even more frustrating!

People have asked me if Matt and I are sick of each other yet, considering we live together now, but the truth is we still don't really see a lot of each other. When we are home together, we're decompressing separately with our own separate hobbies. Lately we have taken to drawing/writing together on the couch, working on completely separate projects. He has been really into his artwork, and I am starting an online cafepress.com store with a friend. We'd like to try selling our own designs.

Thus far we haven't had to replace anything yet. Our furniture is still in intact, our windows now have fans in them to keep the air circulating, and our paint still looks great. Of course, around the time our walls look drab will be when we finally get around to painting the closet doors white like I originally wanted.

My next goals are

- purchase a Shark steam mop
- purchase decorative baubles to put in my dining room able foliage-designed bowl
- WALL ART
- setting up an actual cleaning schedule

ARTWORK PLEASE!

2010-04-09T18:37:00.001-04:00

We put up a single shelf above the television, which did a stupendous job of eating up some of that annoying free space lingering on the wall. Unfortunately this doesn't solve the problem of what to do with the rest of the empty walls.

Ideally I'd like a HUGE piece of artwork to hang just above our heads while we are on the couch. It would be visible as you walked into the apartment and while eating dinner at the dining room table across from living room area. It's hard finding brown-based paintings that don't have tons of green and red in them. Our apartment is most definitely blue and brown --- the only red that peeks through is the red in the vintage Star Wars poster found in one corner. (The Man Corner)

Another obvious option is just purchasing some nice frames and putting photographs up. The problem with this is -- we're just not photograph-loving people. Despite being together for 4 years, I can count the number of pictures I have of Matt and I together (and BOTH look great in) on one hand. I'd have to diet, wait for my skin to clear up, grow my hair out, and wait for upload times just to decorate my apartment. Not going to happen.

Suggestions?

Bridal Shower Woes

2010-04-01T00:58:00.001-04:00

Although Some Assembly Required has mostly taken on a home-related theme, I actually created it with the intent of discussing both my and my boyfriend's venture into adulthood. (Despite him being thirty-two and me being twenty-three, we're sorta stepping out together.)

Two weeks ago I went to my first bridal shower. The guest of honor is a friend of mine, and the sort of girl that could be described as "no fuss, no muss." She dislikes having too much attention put on her at once -- like most normal people -- and hates to put other people out for her own needs. This is the sort of person who generally has a tolerable party in their honor. If she were a Bridezilla, I could probably come up with a more amusing blog entry. Alas, I need to stretch thing a bit.

Wikipedia, the most reliable source for information since the Oracle of Delphi, has fun things about the tradition of bridal showers. Apparently bridal showers were mostly used for

a) ensuring the poor-ass engaged couple would actually HAVE a wedding -- because when someone gives you two sets of dinner plates, you better be able to walk down the aisle.
b) when a father refused to give a dowry because they openly hated the furture groom, friends of the bride would gather gifts together to make up for it. More on that here.

I don't see anywhere " c) to thoroughly embarrass a stressed bride to be " written anywhere.

This shower only had a few games, one of which was pretty cute (Bridal Bingo). Here's a list of other games. Some are absolutely heinous.

Some Highlights

The Banana Game - For this game you will need two ripe bananas and someone to play music. The first person is instructed to place a banana between her knees and she must pass the it to the next person without using any hands. This continues until the music stops, and the person with the banana when the music stops is out. Add another banana circling from the opposite direction to complicate the game further. Last person standing wins!

At other parties when bananas go between a gal's knees, no one's grandmother cheers them on. I'm just saying.

Cotton Head - Choose a guest to go first, and sit her in the middle of the room. Hand her a bowl full of cotton balls and a wooden spoon, and blindfold her. The object of the game is to pile as many cotton balls on your own head as possible within a certain amount of time (30 seconds or so.) After everyone has had a turn, the guest who got the most cotton balls on her head wins a prize.

This game helps hone important skills for a future bride -- piling. Ehm...

What Will She Say Next? Game - As the bride is opening her gifts, a friend records all of her comments about each one. (It helps if the bride is a left unaware of the scribe's activity.) Then after the gifts have been given, read the statements aloud, but putting them in a very new context: What the bride will say on her wedding night! This game is a little saucy.

Ooooh... watch out! Saucy!! Naughty naughty phrases like "Oh, I needed one of these!" and "How long does the warranty last?" will scald the ears of your great aunt Frieda. Do you kiss your groom to be with that mouth?

Just so it's in writing, I'd like to say Instant Execution Awaits Any Who

- tries to put me in a toilet paper wedding dress
- forces the infamous "Gift Bow Hat" on me
- creates a disturbingly aggravating excuse to get me to the surprise bridal shower

I've already received "warnings" from my engaged friends that I'm in for it. I may have to pack heat when my time comes!

I Couldn't Even Recognize the Cucumber

2010-03-23T10:47:00.001-04:00

So the last time I updated I talked about how my fridge was completely empty, yes? Not unaware of this problem Matt went food shopping last Saturday morning. Roughly six hours after filling the fridge with enough food for at least two weeks, we had the STORM OF THE CENTURY.

Most of our county in NJ lost power. Some people lost water. Some people lost both. We lost any trace of power until Wednesday.

From Saturday..to Wednesday. On Thursday evening we returned home from a stay at Matt's mother's house and tossed everything in the fridge. I don't even think we had even eaten anything from what we bought. Saturday morning I was at work and Matt had gone straight out after shopping. Ridiculous!

I Think I Saw A Penguin

2010-03-11T14:30:00.002-05:00

So the dog -- now named Mason-- has separation anxiety. All things considered, things could be worse. He is 99% housetrained, 80% chew trained, has learned his new name, "sit," "paw," and is on his way to understanding "stay" within the span fo the three weeks he has been here. He loves other dogs, doesn't bark, and isn't overtly needy (aside from being unable to stay alone). It could be worse. The major inconvenience of this is that, being that he can't be alone; one of us needs to be with him. I'm extremely lucky that I work at a dog daycare and can bring him with me. Otherwise I'd be paying for him to be at a sitter's house.

Our schedules for the last few weeks have been conflicting; when we were home together, we were too exhausted to contemplate leaving again. When one of us was home with the day off, we needed the dog with us. We haven't gone food shopping in two weeks.

The result of this is that there is absolutely no food in our fridge. Unless one of us can go shopping tonight after we're both home, it's Bagel Bites for dinner. There is a package of Kraft singles, two sticks of celery, some lemons, a slice of chocolate cake, and nine personal packages of Applesauce in there. It's like the back shelf of a dorm mini-fridge.

The result of no food is that everything that is in our fridge is starting to ice over. No, really. The carrot sticks have become a giant frozen bundle of baby carrots. It's become it's own carrot-stick-fort in the refridgerator. Lonely polar bears, barely kept adrift on their glacier rafts, are mournfully paddling in the direction of my refrigerator.

What's In A Name?

2010-02-19T22:34:00.001-05:00

It was a very unorthodox adoption, but I prevented this 8month old puppy from going to a) a potential backyard breeder (he's not neutered), b) a shelter, or c) a dog fighter for bait/food today by taking him from an overwhelmed young mother who wanted to give him up. I wish he understood what driving through Newark was like for me -- he'd lick my face for ages!

He's only been in our home for a few hours so his behavior now basically means nothing. He's bony and very hungry. I haven't seen much aggression. The worst so far was when I tried to pry a Greenie from his mouth. He surprised me by growing and mouthing, and slapping me with his forepaw.

Regardless of that incident, I don't think he is food aggressive. Food aggressive dogs generally avoid you while you are preparing their food, wait until you vacate the area of their food, and eat while you are away. When you approach they generally stop and stare/growl/guard at you. This dog -- "Sammy" -- was all over my feet while I made up his bowl, couldn't WAIT to get his face in, and would actually stop eating if I walked too far away. He preferred having me close to the bowl. Which makes him a social eater, not food aggressive.

My guess is the growl and nastiness stemmed from other factors, like a) he was still hungry after dinner, b) he'd never had a Greenie, and REALLY seemed into it, c) he doesn't know me, so he's testing boundaries. We shall see. Regardless I did what I thought best in the situation without getting bit.

**EDIT** Two weeks later, I offered him a greenie, and he gave it up without a problem.

We still don't have wall art or those tupperware containers.

No, not done yet. Are we slackers?

2010-02-10T14:56:00.000-05:00

It's been three months now, and we've developed a little bit of a routine. I'm managing to keep the house relatively clean and stocked with food, despite my insane hours at work and Matt's Two Job Days.

Things We Need To Buy
(when there isn't 8inches of snow outside)

- Plastic Tupper Ware drawers to house our art stuff. Both of us are artists; there's pencils, drawing pads, sketches, comic strip layout sheets......everywhere.

-Wall Art. The walls here are bare. Absolutely bare. It's funny because I never paid attention to other people's artwork after initially seeing it, but now I'm realizing that the lack of artwork is more noticeable than having ti there. IT just... fills the room and gives you a presence. the fact I can see all of my walls is just.. odd!

- Shelves for the inside of our closets. The piling system we have now is going to get rather old, especially as we accumulate more stuff.

Cooking Math

2010-01-30T15:19:00.000-05:00

Meat + salt + pepper + onions + garlic = X = Burger = what I should have done.
Meat + salt + pepper + onions + garlic + egg* + breadcrumbs* = Y = Giant Flat Meatball = what I did.

X=\=Y

*allrecipes.com, curse you! Who are these people that are eating burgers made this way?

Mommy Help!

2010-01-22T19:15:00.001-05:00

"Okay, if I take the chicken out of the freezer now and put them in the fridge, will they defrost by 6pm?"

"Put them in a pot? How big of a pot?"

"The paper won't come off."

"How do I know if they are defrosted?"

"Sh*t, I forgot to put tinfoil on top of the pan. How long should they cook now?"

"Are they supposed to be this color?"

"What color should they be?"

"How long do the frenchfries take to cook?"

"Should I cut the potato in half?"

"When do I turn them?"

My mother was born and raised in Naples, Italy. It's a little sad I had to call her about five or six times tonight. I picture her and my other ancestors of Italian and chef-ly origin laughing at me from centuries past.

All in all, though, I think everything came out well. I made home made french fries and drumsticks. The chicken tasted too much like chicken -- I think I should have added more seasoning! I can't believe how nerve wracking that was. I don't know if it's because it was the first time I actually cooked a full meal for Matt, or if because there was a threat of salmonella. Perhaps both.

What's cookin', good lookin'? Oh, nothing? ...Oh.

2010-01-22T12:08:00.002-05:00

When I moved out of my house I said I was going to cook as often as possible.

Two nights a week Matt works a second job. My job's schedule is less rigid, and so I am stuck working random nights here and there, if I don't have a nine hour morning shift. One night a week, Matt plays hockey, and dinner is generally skipped. One night a week we're stuck going out, or we decide to go out to spend some time together.

I have made pasta twice, with pre-made sauce from my mother, chicken cutlets once along with pasta, burgers (actually, Matt made those), and hot dogs twice. Other meals included chicken nuggets and french bread pizza. In the last three months. I'm totally sucking! But we're never home! I joined allrecipes.com and made myself an account!

Just in case no one has ever visited that site, click here. It's pretty amazing. You can search through different options, by calorie, food type, how much time it takes to prepare the food, etc.

Tonight, I resolve to actually cook. But first I have to call my mother and ask if the drumsticks I took out of the freezer will be thawed by dinnertime.

Dinosaurs Belong in Apartments

2010-01-12T08:55:00.000-05:00

It's been over two months and we are still doing well. Our crazy schedules have prevented us doing a lot of cooking that doesn't involve prepacked anything. I've successfully managed pasta, chicken cutlets, and grilled cheese. Not just any grilled chese, but dinosaur shaped grilled cheese, using one of these nifty cutters!

Potpourri? No thanks, stuffed rats, please.

2010-01-02T00:58:00.001-05:00

I took Wednesday (AKA day before New Year's Eve) to clean, organize, and prep our living room for our New Year's gathering. It's coming together nicely. Any boxes that couldn't actually go anywhere because we're missing a shelf/dresser/reason to have what is inside the box were shoved into the bedroom. Which is why you are only seeing a picture of our living room. And Matt's knees.

Artie attended, but refused to sit down. He kept saying he was about to "head out" because he had another "thing" to get to, but he never left, drank all the berry flavored Sierra Mist, and spilled brownie crumbs everywhere. Worst guest ever.

This is the tackiest, corniest X-Mas decoration we had out. It's mine. His name is Elkton John, and I love him. Next to him? Why..

That's a replica of the Ecto-1 (or Ectomobile) from Ghostbusters. I haven't taken the tape off the doors. Also mine. We're adults here, I swear.

See? Adults. Hard to see in this shot, but the top shelf has two small glowing pinecone flameless "candles" and a rather art deco looking reindeer. Beneath that, a diffuser and a decorative plate (with a lonely candle), and beneath that is ... where I decided to put my handbag... moving along..

Drafty windows are prime real estate for beverages that need to be kept cold.

Stuffed rats decorate the uselessly spaced shelves of our DVD cases. I dislike plants, we can't do candles, and I'm not a fan of knickknacks. These were bought at IKEA the same day we got Artie. :)

Sorry for the lack of posting!

Leaky Start

2009-12-20T15:13:00.000-05:00

Due to unforeseen circumstances I haven't been able to take many pictures of the new place yet! Holiday shopping and Murphy's Law have been working against the two of us. The apartment is still cluttered and full of boxes. We need another dresser * due to an overwhelming amount of clothes, so our bedroom is just as bad. The most organized room in the apartment so far is actually our bathroom, but it's so small that it would be virtually impossible to actually take worthwhile pictures of it.

Matt and I have officially been "on our own" for almost two weeks now, and we have not yet had one domestic-related argument despite a few not-so-serious mishaps:

- It takes more than a few hours to defrost rock hard chopped meat, so I had to stop by Pathmark to buy more. D'oh.
- Onions don't go in the same drawer as FRUIT.
- Did I water the plant this week....? *Looks behind her..*
- I forgot to wash our new towels before using them, so, after showering, we need to brush lint off of us.

The list of "things to buy" is neverending, and, along side that list, the subsequent "things to do" list .. also neverending.

The Turtle

2009-12-07T09:22:00.002-05:00

I'd say about 90% of my things are now at the new apartment, and tonight we'll be sleeping there! (Gasp.) I don't have time for a long entry right now, but fortunately soon there will be tons, with pictures. I did want to share this, though. The other day while searching deep into my closet for things to pack I came across this little guy. After pulling him from a bag o' junk (all of which went into the garbage) I cried "AWWWW" and actually debated keeping it. I MEAN COME ON.

Making the Cut

2009-11-30T20:59:00.004-05:00

It's really easy to say: "Oh, I am the sort of person who gives/throws away things I don't need. I'm a minimalist. I never keep anything if I haven't used it in a year." Really, person? (Also me, in this scenario.) Well try packing ten years worth of crap. It's an epic battle of what makes the cut and what doesn't.

"MY GRANDMA GAVE THIS TO ME."
"I NEED THIS RANDOM PINK SAND NECKLACE HEART DESIGN THING."
"Oh my God, FLUFFY. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN."
"I can't find the other sock that matches this."
"This half empty bottle of two year old hair gel may still be good."

It just goes on and on.

While the progress of my packing is minimal, the progress on the apartment itself has been spectacular. We've now got assembled sofas, a dresser, and a bookshelf. Not only is our 50" flat screen set up on its own stand, but we have internet, cable, and a phone line. We also have the number one thing that declares an apartment official :

A plant. In fact, this is the plant sitting in what is perhaps the darkest section of the apartment. After taking the pic I conferred with Matt:

"Wouldn't it look nice right here, Matt? Near the fridge?"

"Well, maybe on the windowsill... because... of sunlight.."

"Ohhhh, right."

Note to others: Don't buy me plants.

It was actually rather sweet, unpacking my old books and organizing a kitchen with Matt. We've played house before, but this is the first time either of us have actually lived outside of our respective homes. (The plants don't get watered at my house, either, FYI.) I can't possibly post every adorable conversation Matt and I have already had -- and will have, no doubt -- but he did share with me one of his 'household related dreams,' and I'm going to share it with you now. He shared with me a dream he has in relation to a household object(s) he's always wanted. He bought said object(s), recently, for himself. He special ordered the dream online, because this dream was so very important to him.

Oh goodie, I have a picture:

Matt: I have always dreamed of owning lobster claw oven mitts.

Me: Really? Like, seriously? As in, when you pictured having your own home, this was making the top of the list?
Matt: Yessssss.

Not that I can't be held responsible for silly decorating tactics...

That's Artie. He guards the couch.

Moving the bed in this week with any luck!

A realization.

2009-11-16T00:17:00.000-05:00

I realized tonight that the stove in the apartment is brand new. Which means they removed the old stove in order to put the new one in. Which means, having removed the old stove, they must have seen the cat kibble everywhere. Which means they simply shoved the new stove in over it, and did not bother cleaning it up.

Otherwise, things are good. So far it's been a little over a week waiting for a sink to be fixed. Standard operating rules apply, I guess! We're done painting the living room (caramel and chocolate) and the bedroom (silver and gray), as well as the door trims. All we have left to paint now are the actual hallway/bdrm/btrm doors (white) and we're good! Pictures soon!

..... Is there a cat back there?

2009-11-06T19:37:00.002-05:00

Today was the first day we actually did anything to the apartment. With help from our very sweet sister in law (well, Matt's sister in law, my.. boyfriend's..brother's..wife) we managed to paint most of the dining room/living room, and clean most of the bathroom/kitchen. The bedroom was untouched.

Before Pics

This is the living room/dining room combo. The dining area is in the corner where that separate single window is, and when you take two steps left, you're in the living room.

The kitchen. We didn't paint in the kitchen, but we cleaned. A lot. All three of us were standing on top of the counter tops and step stools --- at one point I was sitting on the top of the fridge --- to scrape gunk off the tops of these cabinets. Either 409 really is the most wonderful cleaning product on the face of this planet, or we got lucky and the grime we found wasn't actually decades old. It didn't take us too long to clean the insides, outsides, tops, and bottoms of all the cabinets.

What is left is the inside of the fridge and behind the stove. On a horror scale of 1 to 10, 1 being "I am mildly disconcerted" and 10 being "Please make sure I don't swallow my own tongue during this seizure" the inside of the fridge is a 6, and behind the stove is a 9.

When Matt pulled the stove out, my sister in law leaned over, took a peek at the carnage, and calmly stated : "Ohhh, [whoever lived here before us] had a cat." I leaned over to peek and saw what looked like a week's worth of cat kibble scattered all over the grease-stained floor. "Ahh," I replied, "yup."

To which Matt said, in a worried tone: "...Is..is there a cat back there?"

A dead cat. He thought a dead cat was back there. I am not sure why, because both his sister in law and I were calm as could be. She had said 'Oh, they had a cat,' and I had said "yup." What about this interaction meant "There is a mangled, somewhat flat carcass of a half-decomposed cat behind our stove," I do not know.

Had there been a dead cat behind our stove, my reaction would have been any of the following options:

a) I would scream bloody murder and run into the farthest room.
b) Vomit, immediately.
c) Gasp sharply, then realize I'd basically sucked in dead cat fumes, then B, then A.

I would not, in any way, say "yyyuuuup."

My hand says hi! I realized today that using a paint roller is harder and more physically exhausting than walking four 50+lb dogs at once. Thankfully Matt did most of the roller-work, and I went in after him like a small paint elf with poor upper body strength and touched up missing spaces and corners.

This is the Mystery Light. No switch in the apartment controlled it. We turned it on by tightening the bulb. Guess how we turned it off. We still don't understand...

The paint colors we used are edible-sounding. The walls are "Warm Caramel" and the trim, which we haven't started yet will be "Bittersweet Chocolate." The far wall (pictured earlier) will be the darker brown, with the caramel trim.

Then there was the tricky business of our bedroom door:

Yeah, it sticks.

A bigger problem, however, is how outrageously high our pilot light is (read: top of stove = BURNING HOT), and bigger still, the leaky pipe under our kitchen sink. We managed to flood the kitchen while we rinsed the stove's vent grill. It was a flood that paper towels could manage, but still! Leaky pipes? Don't you check for that before letting people in?!

Then again, there could have been a dead cat under the sink.

Ladies and Gentleman, we have keys.

2009-11-01T18:31:00.000-05:00

We signed the lease last Friday! We also took measurements of the windows. This week, our goals are simple:
- buy last minute necessary things : garbage cans, hamper, etc
- buy paint
- buy curtains
- paint!
Our prospective move-in is approximately a week, after the above gets done.

With essentials squared away, we can start making room and saving for unessentials. Things like decorative wall sconces, art, and the like. People have already started offering suggestions. Some good, some frightening. It's provoked thought. So I have come up with an (incomplete) list of

Things That Will Never Be In Our Apartment

1. Potpourri

2. Show towels -- or anything for show, for that matter.

3. Precious Moments figurines

4. Tiny wooden plaques that say things like "If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen!" or "There's a crazy woman inside me - I keep her sedated with chocolate!"

5. Incense

6. Any decor that could be described as "country."

7. Themed salt shakers

8. Flowers (real or plastic)

9. Plastic furniture covers

10. Most knick knacks - including ceramic or crystal animals

11. Doilies

12. Tacky coffee mugs with sayins that say "Life's a Beach!" etc

13. ..

What else? Add!

A Ray of Hope

2009-10-21T11:21:00.000-04:00

Sorry for not having updated in a while! I was struck with a wicked cold!

I'm very happy to report that things have been relatively straightened out on the apartment end! Not only did we get to see the apartment again, but we met the super! He is a real person, quite friendly, and his name is Ray. Also, he speaks English. Huge, huge plus!

I was surprised to find entirely new kitchen cabinets as well as a brand new stove with the tape still on the bottom! (I suppose it could be an old, cleaned stove, with fresh tape, but how shady would that be?) The bathroom is also entirely knew, with brand new tiles for the floor, a new sink, and a new cabinet (read: singular) beneath the sink. I have no idea where the other 90% of my bathroom stuff is going to go. Other storage options will need to be explored.

Matt and I have done a ton of shopping, and have basically found most of the essentials:

- couch, sofa, loveseat (read: IKEA SALE)
- dresser
- glasses, dishes, placemats, pot holders, washcloths, pots, pans, etc
- coffee maker, toaster oven, toaster
- area rug, ottoman (it's pretty, and blue)
- bathroom towels, hand towel, door hooks, towel hanger, bath mat, shower curtain

Some things we are in dire need of are:

- curtains (need measurements)
- silverware (not sure how we missed that)
- microwave (need food)

A Mysterious Message

2009-10-07T23:45:00.000-04:00

So mysterious, in fact, that Matt's answering machine didn't blink to tell him it existed.

As you know, we've gone a week without contact from the apartment person. No horse heads appeared on our pillows, though, so the general plan was to send a concerned email, leave a concerned message the actual leasing office, and wait.

Someone got back to us the same day!

"Hi, this is [second fellow who called us to let us know first person was no longer working there, and that third person would be taking care of us], I guess you may already know that [third person] is no longer working here."

UH OH?!

But..But I Can't Blog From Inside Someone's Trunk?

2009-10-05T22:48:00.032-04:00

I should have known that putting our prospective move-in date down in any sort of written format would cause it to not happen! I'm not really a superstitious person but as I typed up that blog post, I got a gut feeling.

Last Wednesday Matt was supposed to get the keys and sign the lease. What ended up happening was the woman who was supervising the walk through and the lease negotiation was never actually given the keys to the apartment. There was no explanation of where they were, or why, or when she would get them. She did, however, apologize profusely to Matt.

Matt, who is charming in his attempt to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, said she was probably embarrassed about looking unprofessional and was upset someone had made a mistake on their end which caused her to eat her own foot. What was left was that she would call Matt when someone did get the keys to her. When we didn't hear anything from her for the rest of the week or through the weekend, Matt gave her a call.

Surprise! It went straight to voicemail. And her voicemail box? Full. Sketchy, no? I just really hope that this woman is legit. She "took over" responsibility of showing these apartments after the original woman we had spoken with disappeared mysteriously, and the fellow who took over for her was clueless. So technically, this woman is the third person. Am I wrong to have some misgivings? What if she's not actually working for the apartment complex at all? She could have broken into their office, gathered Matt's and my information, called us, and is waiting in a dark alley with a raven on her shoulder for us to sign the lease.

But, beneath the lease, there is a special document under a sheet of carbon paper and surprise again! We signed away our souls. Then we're kidnapped by evil shadow creatures and locked in someone's car until they can dispose of our soulless bodies.

It's a stretch, but I want to cover all bases. Got any garlic and a cross?

Target is Wonderful

2009-09-29T22:14:00.002-04:00

.. and a lot less frightening than IKEA. Though I probably shouldn't poke too much fun at the Swedish wonderland of stuffed rats, meatballs, and particleboard. We are probably getting a dresser and a sofa set from there.

Today's Purchases

This delightful floor lamp

Matt picked out chocolate colored sofas, which means our living room will probably have to brown theme. There are other colors that go with brown, sure -- like green, which is our bathroom. I don't want green all over the entire apartment, though, so I'm thinking blue. Part of me loves the idea, while the more estrogen filled part of me says: "But his brooooother has thaaaaaat, you need something oriiiiiiginal..."

This homey...key holder..thingie..

I didn't pay $60 for it, and I'm pretty sure that's not the exact same thing I picked up at Target today. Mine only has 3 hooks. I paid $30. Hmm.

Lastly, a TV stand.

Rather unhelpfully it has loose shelves with no backing, which are perfect for video game systems.

There was a variety of other objects I found there today that didn't come home with me, but really did want to. Things like:

This entire penguin bathroom collection, this frog wastebasket that actually says "ribbit!" when you throw something away, and this heinously colorful welcome mat.

What we need here is a list.

2009-09-26T17:45:00.000-04:00

After some more perusing and some reality hits, we've decided 3rd apartment is probably our best bet. After a lot of back and forth confusion, the apartment manager assistant's woman inability to answer simple questions actually helped our application get pushed through faster.

Our move-in date is a tentative October 12th.

We have a bed and a TV, along with a few cleaning supplies.

Let the shopping begin!

Why Thank You - I Think?

2009-09-18T10:39:00.001-04:00

I got a phone call while I was at work Wednesday.

Me: Hello?
Guy: Hi, I'm calling from [Third Apartment People] and I see a voice mail from you. I'm actually just filling in for the regular person who does this.

Ah, so that's why three phone calls have gone unanswered.

Me: Oh, hey!! Yes, actually I had called and my boyfriend had called.
Guy: Ah yes, I see him on my list too.
Me: I just had a few questions.
Guy: Okay.
Me: ... You can answer them?
Guy: If not, I will get you the answers.
Me: Okay. My first was about parking. [discusses parking scenario]
Guy: I'm... not sure, but I will get back to you.
Me: Okay. My second question was about [paycheck scenario.]
Guy: I will need to double check on that. Are those all the questions you had?
Me: Yes.. look, you should call Matt.
Guy: Okay, what's the number?
Me: [Gives number]
Guy: Okay, thanks so much Criss!

__

Later:

Me: Did anyone call you? Or leave a voicemail? In reference to the Nice Apt?
Matt: ...No?

Er?!

The Third Apartment

2009-09-12T10:12:00.002-04:00

The last apartment Matt and I looked at was actually quite fantastic, and so I feel like this blog post may be either a) woefully short or b) woefully boring.

For example, here's the PRO/CON list:

PROS	CONS
- great layout!	- small walkthrough kitchen
- nice sized bathroom sink	- but ultimately, small bathroom
- lots of closet space	- third floor walkup
- but, a very wide walk up	Bwuh?
- tons of cabinet space (kitchen)	Let me think of something …
- natural light let in	… nothing yet…
- hardwood floors	… give me a minute….

It's an affordable rent, too,which includes heat, hot water, and cooking gas. The pet policy is extremely workable, and thus far the cheapest -- most places have wanted a couple hundred dollars a year plus an additional $30-$50/month. This apartment? $25. It's in a relatively nice area with a Walgreens and a Pathmark (read: huge pharmacy, huge supermarket for those of you not in the East) nearby.

As we waited to be let in, a couple came out, and as we left, a couple was going in. Which means there's probably a lot of demand for this building along. Luckily, I think the application for this place will shave down the numbers.

We had no idea apartment applications could be so..thorough. I think there might be less questions to answer when you apply for a government job. Paycheck stubs, background checks, proof of income, referral letters.... what do they ask people who want to move into really nice apartments? What do the people who want to move into those fancy buildings with built in gyms, swimming pools, and spas have to do? Jump through fire hoops and balance things on their noses? Give up their first born?

Matt filled out as "much as he could" of the application. The copy machine at school was broken, so he couldn't make photocopies of his DNA's transcript patterns, nor could provide them with my favorite ice cream flavor (he couldn't remember if its vanilla or pistachio). *

We have a few more questions to ask the woman who showed us the apartment, but we're intent on sending the application in. She had informed us the day of our visit that other apartments will be opening up in October, which isn't really so far away when you think of it. There was a small debate between us over whether or not the search should stop and we should focus on just getting this apartment, or if we should try to look for something better.

Neither of us are the sort of person to turn down an opportunity because there might be another out there. This might categorize us as pessimists, as our readiness to put off a continual search for something more may imply we figure there just isn't anything more out there. On the other hand, our reluctance to pass up an opportunity for the potential chance of a better one may make us practical. Because really... there probably isn't something more.

Finding reasonable apartments in the Metropolitan area of the East Coast is like finding a matching pair of shoes in a shoe bin at Walmart. It just doesn't happen; and most of what you find smells bad.

* None of that paragraph was true, in case you need clarification. Matt didn't actually need to turn in DNA reports. I know there's going to be one person out there going "Hey! That doesn't seem right!" Also? Vanilla.

The Second Apartment

2009-09-04T09:43:00.017-04:00

This was our first Craigslist adventure. The listing sited the apartment being a little under fifty square feet smaller than the first apartment. We were a little worried at first, but ultimately decided layout was more important, and we were right. The layout was pretty superb, because the apartment seemed larger than the Previous Home of Cat Lady (1st apartment).

Layout is not more important, however, than water damage.The Pro/Con list:

PROS	CONS
beauuuutiful double doors leading to bedroom...	..tiny, tiny, tiny bathroom
beeeeautiful hardwood floors...	..the worst parking situation, ever
an adorable breakfast nook...	.. water damage, bedroom ceiling
only three other families in the building...	..because soon, construction on 1 apt would start

It was very clear that the reason this apartment was $1150/month is because of where it was located, and not the actual apartment itself. This apartment was in the 630sqft range, and included nothing but hot water. It was actually located on top of a kosher deli in a neighborhood that desperately wants to be Manhattan. It was right on the main avenue. Within a five minute walk I could get sushi, a designer handbag, Greek food, designer eyeglass frames, Starbucks (oh don't pretend to be surprised), and jewelry. The whole area had a noveau riche mist over a much stronger scent of struggling yuppies' quiet desperation. It was like the entire place had been Febreezed with hope.

I was standing on the sidewalk wondering why anyone would need two sushi restaurants within fifteen feet of each other when the fellow who would be showing us the apartment called. "Hey, ring the 4th buzzer." Matt and I pry open the door leading to the "lobby" (read: 4x5ft space containing mailboxes and doorbells) and are immediately met with two bright yellow town-issued notices stuck to the glass door with half a roll of duct tape.

CONSTRUCTION PERMIT NOTICE
Bathroom
Lighting
Electric

Me: What the hell is this?
Matt: A construction notice?
Me: Going on here? When? Why?
Matt: *Stares, wondering why he would have such answers*
Me: That means we're going to be hearing construction, for who knows how long, in this very tiny building.
Matt: Ahh...

The walkway leading up to the apartment would prevent me from eating any more fast food; it was so narrow we had to walk single file. Matt made a good point later: how do you move into an apartment with a walkway like that? We'd need to saw a sofa in half.

The fellow showing us the apartment was not actually the owner. You would think that there's nothing wrong with that. It happens a lot -- people own apartments, get other people to show them to unsuspecting strangers. When we had approached the three story building we saw two of those strangers actually leave. They had been in the apartment minutes before we were. They didn't seem horrified or angry upon departure, so I figured we had a shot.

Here's a basic summary of the conversation(s) I had with Show Guy:

Me: So pets are okay, right? Is there a pet fee?
Him: Ohh.. I don't really know..
Me: Oh, you guys don't have pets?
Him: Yeah, we have a cat. The people downstairs have a dog.
Me: ....

So in other words, Agent 007, you're saying the owner plans on charging us more than he charges his current tenants. Gotcha.

Me: So, it said parking available? Where?
Him: ... In the back, I think.

The "back?"

Me: .... Okay, how much is it? By month, by year?
Him: I don't know, you'd have to ask the owner...
Me: Okay...And the rent is $1150?
Him: Yeaah, but that's negotiable...

Meaning you don't pay $1150. Gotcha.

Me: What about a security deposit? Or refurbishing fee?
Him: Again, that's negotiable... *dumbass smile*

Meaning ours will be double what yours was? Gotcha.

Me: But you don't know what it is?
Him: Again... *helpless shrug*
Me: I should get this guy's phone number.

Why? WHY?! Did the owner not trust this guy enough to give him even the most basic information? All this guy could tell us was that it included nothing but hot water, and had a stove. We could SEE the stove (though we had to squint, it was so small). Why hadn't the owner shared any information with the person he'd decided was able to show this apartment to prospective tenants? Was this guy a complete goon and incapable of being responsible enough to actually show this apartment?

"Okay, Renfield, no questions, just bring ze pretty English women to my coffin.....I vant to suck their waaaaallets."

When I asked how many families lived in the building* he told me soon one of the apartments would become the owner's working office. They were going to be doing construction soon. It's a pretty safe assumption that this Mr. Bigshot, who has the money to build his own office, own other apartments in Manhattan (something we learned from Show Guy), and doesn't have the time to show his own apartment is going to have said construction on this new office done at a time convenient to him -- that is, when it's inconvenient to everyone else. So the already narrow walkway up would be littered with tools, dust, drywall remains, etc...

* I asked this because on the way up we passed a stroller on the second story landing. I found out it belonged to Show Guy, who lived on the third floor and would therefore be our neighbor. His apartment was apparently so small that not only could he not keep his stroller inside, but he had to keep it on the 2nd floor. Unless, of course, he put it on the 2nd floor to throw off the would-be tenants he'd be showing the place too, assuming a stroller right outside the empty apartment would make childless yuppie couples curl their lip in fright. (Criss, you say, that's insane! But I've heard worse.)

Our feet hadn't touched the sidewalk before Matt mouthed "Nooooooooooooo" to me with Jim Carey-like emphasis.

Me: Nooo?

Matt: Nooooo. There was water damage all over the bedroom ceiling.
Me: I didn't notice that, I was too busy not having my questions answered.

I had said I was going to take pictures of this apartment, but in truth it was more like a studio that divided the bedroom area with double doors. Any picture I took from any angle could probably capture the entire apartment. I adored the breakfast nook and the tiling/woodwork was beautiful, but the heaters were disjointed and the closet space was pitiful.

Matt: "It said it had a dining room! Where was the dining room?"
Me: "...You were standing in it, hon."
Matt: "What about the living room?"
Me: "We were standing in that at the same time."
Matt: "WHAT THE HELL!"

Pass. On the way home we passed a variety of garden apartments. I snapped pictures on my cell phone as we drove by, and saved the images as the phone number of the establishment. One time we actually pulled over to the side of the road. I suppose it might have looked strange to passersby, like we were trying to case the joint.

Oops. We weren't tailed on the way home, so I guess no one found us too suspicious!

The First Purchase

2009-08-25T22:09:00.000-04:00

On the way home from our less than stellar First Apartment Visit, Matt and I stopped at a CVS. Passing through the Ugly Decorations aisle, I found these cute little tea light candle lamps hanging out on a shelf beneath ridiculous rag-doll Jack-O-Lantern shelf puppet...things.

They aren't exactly high-end, but I like them. They are officially the first purchase we've made for the new place. Right now they are nestled away safely, lying in wait.

Conveniently I chose Autumn colors, despite green and some other color being available.

Me: I like these colors. They are great for Fall, which will be here soon.
Matt: But you can use them all year 'round, right?
Me: ....
Matt: Or you can just buy other decorations that do match the season.
Me: :D
Matt: Ah.
Me: Of course, since these ARE Fall colors, this means I need to be able to put them up.... in the Fall.

I'm the queen of subtlety.

The First Apartment

2009-08-24T09:35:00.000-04:00

The first apartment we've looked at, anyway.

This apartment was part of a large assembly of apartments, where, off to a safe corner, was a first floor management office. The gentleman showing us the place was the epitome of "Eh, I tried," and admittedly is probably showing low-scale apartments because the selling used cars thing never went through.

As it is really Matt who is renting the apartment, I resolved to be very very quiet during the initial meeting. We sat down in front of Mr. No Fuss and he began to ask us questions. We were two questions in when Matt turned to me to have me answer. Suddenly, I was the girl with all the answers. Mr. No Fuss wouldn't even look at Matt anymore. The attention suddenly on me, I felt compelled to ask questions.

"What's the pet policy?"
"$350 a year down, $30 a month."
"What about... another pet?"
"How many pets are you planning to have? Like me? I have a zoo. Three dogs, a bird, two snakes, hamsters..."
"....I am thinking less, than that."
"Just don't tell us about another dog."

Hokay then!

Using the same amount of pressure you would need in a hose to wash a fly off a car, Mr. No Fuss brought us into the apartment. I completely forgot to take pictures, but using my elite artistic abilities I have rendered a DaVinci-esque drawing of Matt and I surveying the living room, capturing all angles and the entire framework of the place:

That's me on the left, in case your untrained eye couldn't tell. It was small. At 675 sq ft it defied all logic but appearing smaller than the apartment I live in now, which is actually much smaller. I think it was the layout. Upon opening the door you walked right into the dining room/living room combo.

"Hi everyone, so nice to -- oh sorry, I tripped over your plate, there... whoops."

There was minimal closet space and the bedroom, though nicely nestled in the back of the apartment, had a view of a garbage dumpster or something else large, metal, and unappealing. Mr. No Fuss gave us a less than stellar pitch. Matt's theory is that Mr. No Fuss was very much aware of the apartment, and was not going to really try to give a spit shine to it. "Eh, this is it."

The cherry on top of the display was when we exited. I saw a large orange cat lounging in the brutal sun on the steps of the next door apartment.

Me: Oh look, a cat! Aw!
Mr. No Fuss: Oh yeah... the old lady who lived here before used to feed them. We had tons. Most left, but there's still a lot hanging around! Heh.
Matt: .......
Me: ...................

I waited for the "Oh, sh*t!" look to cross his face, but it never did.

On the way home Matt and I comprised a list of Pros & Cons, discussing our findings. Although numerically the list seems even, there is a certain weight to each item.

* Matt claims this may be a Pro, because he would hate to be the noisy neighbor who lived above others. However, since I am writing this, and care much more about being annoyed than being annoying, I’m putting this on the cons list.

** Matt noticed this, I did not. I’ve had a cold for a while now, though, so it is possible I just didn’t detect it. It provoked conversation:

Me: What do you mean you smell Indian food? You've never had Indian food.
Matt: I just do. I know what it smells like. It is an unmistakable smell.

I wonder if Indian families ever have these concerns. "Ugh, we live above an American family. All we smell is cheese, meat, and beer all day."

So, to summarize: Cozy, Cats, Curry.

Next!