Quick Update

No time to write but I wanted to update you and let you know that:

1) A lease was signed for a new apartment! Very exciting, but it was very unexpected and happened quickly. So this weekend is the final push for the big move.

And 2) Mouse poop. We have found mouse poop everywhere as we move things out. I would like to emphasize that this should not be interpreted as a reflection of my hygiene. There are just holes everywhere in this apartment. In cabinets, for heating pipes, under radiators, etc. That mouse (I like to tell myself it was only that ONE) was on my kitchen window sill, under my bed, in my spice drawer, everywhere. SO THANKFUL to be moving and to not know this until now. Yuck.

Okay, I have to go move some more boxes, but I'll be back soon!

Happy Halloween!!

Worst. Weekend. Ever.

I was excited and prepared Friday to come home and write a nice happy post. Unfortunately, that has been postponed for a bit while I address more pressing issues, like traumatic life experiences.

After work on Friday Andrew and I had an appointment to check out an apartment. We viewed an incredibly awesome loft apartment (if I can persuade you, maybe you can persuade Andrew) and then walked back to my apartment to make dinner before heading out for our marriage study.

We were pretty hungry so Andrew walked straight into the kitchen while I put my jacket on the coat rack. We were not in my apartment for more than 15 seconds when Andrew shouts and leaps back.

"Oh boy," I thought, "not another one of those creepy-hairy-crawly things again." He had just killed one of those a week ago, but didn't react like that.

As if he's just seen a ghost he turns to me and says, "A mouse just ran across your counter." I think I stopped breathing at this point and was near fainting. De ja vu of last year's mouse fiasco.

I had heard voices in my neighbor's apartment as we walked up the stairs a few minutes earlier so I promptly recruited help. My downstairs neighbor was in the upstairs apartment so they both came to our rescue. They both non-nonchalantly said, "Yea, that mouse ran across both our counters this week too."

Um, What?! That is NOT okay!

1. Mice should not be running around rampant inside our apartments.

2. If mice do happen to romp around inside they should NOT be on the counter! They live in little holes in base boards and wander around the FLOOR! How do they get onto counters?

One neighbor said, "I have traps downstairs. Let's just take care of this." The other neighbor said, "There are humane traps you know. I'm outta here." And just like that, he left.

Andrew and the neighbor spent the next five minutes trying to figure out how to set the traps. Then they put peanut butter on them. "Peanut butter? I thought you were supposed to put cheese out for them," I said (obviously educated by cartoons). While they talked about their strategy for placing the traps that little rodent ran across the counter again. Again!! Ugh. Without getting to eat dinner Andrew and I dashed out to our study hoping for the best.

I could barely concentrate at the study. Between dreaming about future apartment possibilities and panicking about the thoughts of a mouse in my apartment, I was useless. And to top it off we shared mouse stories at the end, including ones about mice chewing off their legs to get out of the trap. Needless to say, we arrived back to my apartment with a plethora of situations to return to. Dead mouse. Mouse feet in the trap. A mouse hobbling around with a trap on it's leg. You name it, I was anticipating it. What I didn't anticipate was what actually happened. We returned 3 hours later and I waited in the car while Andrew went in to remove the dead mouse. Andrew walked upstairs and reappeared a few minutes later. But instead of going to the trash can he walked towards my car and says, "No mouse."

Great. I walked into my apartment, uncomfortable in my own haven. I stood on a chair while Andrew removed items on the counter one by one to look for the mouse. Why does this seem necessary? As foolish as it felt, standing on the chair just made me feel safer.

Saturday Andrew checked the trap. "Um..." he said, while staring in the corner with a flashlight.

"Um, what?!" I shrieked back.

"Um, worst possible scenario. The trap is gone."

"Um, what?! Where is the trap?!"

"Don't know."

I start having visions of a mouse that got snapped in the trap and is hobbling around trying to get through a crack with a big piece of wood following behind. Andrew moves a dresser and sees the trap underneath. He slowly moves the dresser to reveal the trap in its entirety. Entirely empty! The mouse ate all the peanut butter and got away!

"We just fed a mouse!" I yelled. "We just fed him and let him get away!"

Round two. Andrew decides that we'll put less peanut butter on the trap and we'll put it back out. We proceed to spend the rest of the day Saturday around the apartment making phone calls, emailing people, working on wedding details, etc. Mind you, in my studio we were never more than 8 feet from the trap. About 7:30PM Andrew decides to check the trap again. He'd been peaking throughout the day for a mouse near the trap and nothing. In fact, there are two traps. One on the counter behind the microwave where he was hiding last night. He checked both throughout the day.

Trap behind the microwave: Untouched. Trap on the floor 8 feet from Andrew: licked clean. Twice now, we've fed the mouse and let him get away!! Third time is a charm, right? Wrong! Sunday check-up. Clean. Not an trace of peanut butter and he got away. Obviously those traps were useless.

I happened to run into my neighbor in the parking lot and asked if they caught the mouse or if their traps were being licked clean as well. "No, our traps are out and untouched, he assured me. Before I could even walk back up stairs he emerged and said, "Scratch that. We've been robbed." At this point it was not as much of a surprise and almost funny. We'd all been duped by a mouse!

I went out Sunday afternoon and bought new package of traps. A different type of trap. One that assured victory. We set them out and to my disappointed they weren't touched at all Sunday night. It turns out the neighbors downstairs finally caught him on their kitchen counter Sunday evening.

A sad ending compensated only by that fact that the mouse had to have eaten twice his weight in peanut butter those last two days. RIP little guy.

PS The traps are still out in case he had any siblings or offspring. I'm sure you'll hear about it if he did.

This year it's MY fault

It's definitely fall.

It's so crisp out. Morning. Day. Night. I turned the heat on in my car for the first time last night. It smelled like winter. I can't believe fall is here already and winter is just around the corner. In fact, fall has already peaked in some places! Wow.

Oh, and my apartment is freezing. Now I remember why I spend so much of the winter months under my down comforter, with my computer on my lap, and just my little fingers sticking out. It's pretty much impossible to do anything that requires exposing appendages to the frigid air, which eliminates basically everything except watching the tv burrito-style and washing dishes in hot water. And who wants to do that 24-7?

Well, unfortunately, this year, it's my fault that I'm so cold. My landlord converted the building's heat from oil that he paid for to gas that individual tenants pay for. Simple enough, right? Wrong. You've probably learned by now that nothing is simple with me 0:)

Well, since Andrew is now employed there is a little glimmer of hope that the January wedding will bring with it a sparkling, new, spacious apartment instead of cramming in my little studio. The only problem is that I will have to sublet my apartment. Well, as dreamers do, we starting searching around a little on Craigslist and some other cool mapping websites that utilize Craigslist data. I'm such a mapper, aren't I? Even at home I can't quit mapping. As could be expected we found one we liked. Then another. Then another. Unfortunately, they're all available now. Hmmmm...no predicament is too big to overcome! Maybe I'll just move now.

We thought we'd test the waters to see how easy or arduous it would be to sublet my apartment so that we were prepared. Always planning, aren't we? As much as people want to deny it, Providence is basically a college town, so renting at the start of a semester is ideal. But if I could sublet sooner...I'd just move into the new apartment sooner:) Well, we didn't realize the hot ticket we were sitting on. We had over a dozen responses of people interested in subletting the little studio! BUT I don't have anywhere to go and people want to move in ASAP. Talk about unnecessary stress to add to my life.

For now we're showing the studio and making regular appointments to check out other places as well. We haven't found anything perfect yet, but we know we'll probably have to compromise on a few things. For example, one apartment had a great kitchen, dining room, location, and washer and dryer, but not great bedrooms and a tiny, unattractive bathroom. Another had a great bathroom, great kitchen, but no closet space, tiny bedrooms, and a worse location. For now, we're still looking. There is always the option to hold out, save money, and hope for the pieces to fall into place in January. It's quite the juggle trying to get someone into your apartment and get into another one at exactly the same time! Wheew.

Anyway, all that to say, I've yet to set up a gas account in case I don't stay here too much longer. But at the same time, we've only looked at two apartments and neither were ideal. We'll see. In the mean time I'll keep my whining about freezing indoor temperatures to a minimum since it is my own fault. In fact, I'll probably brag this weekend about making my first fire of the season. I might even take a Christmas-card style picture of me sitting in front of it, in an ugly sweater, sipping hot cocoa. But don't get your hopes up.

I'll also keep you updated on the apartment hunt. The goal will be an apartment with decent size rooms (2--one for a guest bedroom. It'll have your name on it:)), an acceptable bathroom, and a better than average kitchen. A washer and dryer would be icing on the cake:D

That's it for now. Take care and stay warm!

Chillin' (literally),

Homemade Goodies

Homemade Whipped Cream

I've never made whipped cream from scratch before and I'll admit that I was a little skeptical about the process. I really didn't think that beating a liquid could magically turn it into a semi-solid, but it's true! And I did it by hand without an electric beater (aka, Andrew and I took turns. It's tiring on the arm!). This was not by choice though. I promptly bought the cheapest beater I could find at Target afterward. I know it will be well worth the investment.

Working really hard to make soft, foamy peaks. [Still skeptical at this point]




















So proud of the product!






















Recipe:
1/2 pt. whipping cream
3 tbsp. sugar
1 tsp. vanilla

In a large bowl, whip cream until stiff peaks are just about to form. Beat in vanilla and sugar until peaks form. Make sure not to over-beat, cream will then become lumpy and butter-like. Refrigerate.

P.S. to my Broadcast Blues

Andrew and I both felt the sting from our abrupt separation with the beautiful world of extended cable and he was certain that if we looked in the attic we could try to rectify whatever the fire marshal did to disrupt out service. I reluctantly agreed, reasoning that the digital cable conversion happened around the same time and somehow could have affected this, but I hesitantly went up those stairs.

I had no idea what to expect from an 1814 attic, but I was certain that getting attacked by a mutant, 20-lb rat was part of the deal. Wrong. We didn't see any rats or mice (thankfully!!!) but we did see a creepy dusty attic, some paintings from my RISD neighbor, some nudy paintings of elderly women my RISD neighbor hides so people don't see how creepy he really is, a megaphone, and some other goodies. I demanded that we went back with a camera...so enjoy!

Andrew ready to defend us against the rodents.



















Andrew holding up a 1989 Newsweek Magazine Hot Cities: America's Best Places to Live and Work Providence, St. Paul, Orlando, Ft. Worth, Columbus, Sacramento
And "Last Days in Kabul: The Soviets Pull Out Under Fire"
Wow, 1989 Russia was still U.S.S.R.!



















Me and the old women!











Andrew and the megaphone.

Brrr...It's cold in here....

1st snow of the season!!! What a great start to the day!! Unfortunately, I didn't know it was going to snow so it was quite the surprise to walk out of my apartment this morning, late for church of course, to the further delay of brushing off my car. I planned to take some pictures as soon as I got out of church, but it all melted by then:( Oh well, it will come again some glorious day!

On the downside of this fabulous day, the heat broke last night and the temperature has steadily decreased throughout the day. Current temp in my apartment: 52 degrees. There is a heating company working on it right now since it's getting down to 15 degrees tonight and that would cause problems on many levels: freezing pipes, freezing tenants, etc.

I'm currently in bed under the covers (the only warm place in the apartment). I'm using the art of layering to survive: I'm wearing sweat pants, a sweat shirt, a beanie, and socks which snuggling under a sheet, down comforter, quilt, regular comforter and a throw blanket. It's working pretty well--my hands are the only parts exposed and cold. The worst part is that I'm very unproductive when this happens because doing anything constructive requires me to abandon my cocoon and move about in the frigid apartment.

Only in Movies?

Sometimes I think that little ridiculous things only happen in movies, until they happen to me.

For example, I was waiting on a package from an online purchase and USPS attempted to deliver it on Monday. The slip they left me gave me the option to sign it and indicate where to leave it, to wait, or to go pick it up at the post office which closes at 5pm (big help). Reluctantly I signed the slip and wrote "back door" and hoped for the best. I came home yesterday from work and the slip was gone, but there was no package. Hmmm. Why would he take the slip and not leave the package? I asked my neighbors if they had seen it, but they said "no."

I said, "Maybe he didn't leave it because it was raining." But Mike assured me that he's received packages before in a bag when it's raining, so that didn't exactly boost my confidence. So I went back into my apartment and played the what if/where is it game with Andrew on the phone. (Poor guy, it was his suggestion to sign the slip rather than go pick it up, so I made sure to let him know that I may or may not be blaming him on the inside for this situation.) Well, at this point there was nothing I could do since the post office was closed, I didn't have a slip, I didn't have a tracking number, and trying to guess was creating more tension.

Well today I came home early from work (yay for half days before holidays!) and came through the front door--we have a mail slot in our front door--but there was no mail. Hoping that the mail hadn't come yet, but lacking confidence that this was true, I went to check the back door just in case. And feeling the emotions of a toddler on Christmas morning seeing their presents for the first time, I saw a cute little box on the back step. "That's sure a funny sized box for what I ordered," I thought, but picked it up nonetheless. "Tim Douethesy...Who is that? What? Wrong address. Wrong sender." UPS had left the package for my neighbor at my door!! What are the odds, this has NEVER happened before and they gets lots of packages at the apartment next door. I wish I could have watched the whole situation unfold. My expressions went from surprised, to hopeful, to crushed all in an instance. (A bit dramatic, huh? It's just a package.)

I walked next door, placed the package on their door step and went back inside. Confident that the mailman hadn't come yet, I opened my blinds so that I could see when he walked up the street and continued on with my afternoon. Again, like a child, when I saw him walk up the street I jumped up so I could talk to him and find out what happened with my package. Not wanting to seem as pathetic as I was, I waited for him to leave the package. I had left a note for him on the front door telling him I was home to accept it, but he went straight for the back door. Thinking that I had given him enough time to get to the front door, I went down to open it, right at the second he was knocking and almost gave him a heart attack--poor old guy. What a lame-o--I looked like I was waiting in the foyer for him all afternoon! Well he did have my package, he explained the route a parcel has to take between the carrier and post office for re-attempting delivery, and went on his merry way. But not before my rude neighbor (recent conclusion, I hadn't met her before today) walked up to us and asked "Can I help you with something?" after she saw us talking and pointing to the back doors as I was explaining where UPS and FedEx leave packages. Was that rude to mention the competition to him? It's no secret that they deliver too. Anyway, this girl wasn't very nice. And that was that.

So, the moral of the story: Always trust USPS.

What Keeps You Up At Night?

It used to be simple things that kept me up at night, like being too cold, a stiff neck, the sounds of my heating pipes....well not any longer. It's now the fear of death that keeps me awake. Tonight I found a disgusting creepy bug less than a foot away from my bed on the wall!! I feel so uncomfortable in my own apartment. I frantically look at the walls and floors all the time now. Apparently its a harmless House Centipede, but I don't care. It is so gross and creepy. I thought winter was supposed to kill bugs, apparently it just lures them all inside so they don't freeze to death.
(This picture doesn't do justice on the scale. The body was over an inch long and the hairlike legs made it look HUGE--3 inches long at least!)

Naturally, I saw the bug and flipped out. I was supposed to be leaving in 20 minutes for a womens' dessert night with church, but I knew there was no way I was leaving the apartment without that sucker being removed. If left it until later to be dealt with, it would undoubtedly be gone when I got home and I would spend the next 3 weeks panicked about which shoe it was in or where in my bed it was hiding. So, what did I do but immediately walk out the door to my neighbor, Mike's. Mike is the heat guy--he's used to me stopping by on an every other day basis. Well, tonight Mike was not home. I don't know why he feels the liberty to go to class and have a life outside of being my heat monitor, but he does. Well, I don't know my downstairs neighbor (Andy) very well, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I marched right down and said, "Can you kill a bug in my apartment?" He said sure and began looking for something to kill it will. He struggled to find something so I quickly volunteered the junk mail in our hallway for all of the previous tenants from what seems like the past 2o years.

Now you may think that beggars can't be choosers, oh, but I was picky. I made sure to let him know that a missed attempt would not be okay and that he needed to be confident that he could get him on the first try. (Who was I kidding? I wasn't going to do any better of a job than he could. In fact, I didn't even have the guts to try. I was terrified. He was all I had). I wasn't sure if that creepy bug was fast or if it could fly. He assured me that it was a Silverfish and he had seen one in his apartment downstairs earlier this week. Great. We have an infestation. Well he creamed that little guy with two swift blows and I thanked him. I didn't even require that he clean the guts off the wall. I was certain that I could handle that, but later found out that even with rubber gloves on I was so freaked out by this foreign bug that I had to psyche myself up just to clean the guts off. Anyway, about 10 minutes later I heard Mike come home and wanted to let him know that I would appreciate a little heat and to let him know that our apartment building is being taken over by alien bugs.

To my surprise Andy was sitting in there with Mike and said, "I already told him about the Silverfish." And Mike said, "I just turned the heat on."

Playing it cool I said, "Oh ok, I was just checking on the heat. Also, I looked it up and it's not a Silverfish, but a House Centipede." They didn't believe me so they wanted to see proof on my google image search (I took a picture but it turned out blurry. I was really nervous the flash was going to scare the bug, but apparently they aren't camera shy. He didn't even flinch). We agreed that it was a House Centipede and Mike turned and saw the remains. "You killed it?!" he exclaimed.

"Yea, we did. I thought you might have opted for the humane method." Mike then proceeded to explain how easy it is to catch a bug with a glass. "You put the glass over the bug on the wall and then slide a piece of paper behind it and let it outside." Sounds logical, but it's not gonna happen. Andy then chimed in and said, "I'd like to see you try that method when you get bats in your apartment." What? Are you kidding me? What next? Luckily, Andy had bats in his previous, not current apartment, but nevertheless, I've got something new to worry about at night: bats flying down my damperless chimney. They'll enjoy the company of the rocks and leaves that currently come down my chimney.

Anyway, the moral of the story is if you want to get rid of bugs, you ask Andy; if you want to warm your apartment, you ask Mike; and if you want a useless waste of space, you just come by my apartment, I'll be here standing on the couch next to the fireplace hiding from the mice, worrying about the centipedes, waiting to swat a bat, and eating Sun chips.

Shoo Fly Don't Bother Me

Have I told you how much I hate bugs?

Well, we all know about that incident with me sucking the bug into the vacuum only to find it still alive and walking around inside the container a week later.

Then there are spiders. I once went 5 days without doing dishes because there was a big spider in my kitchen that suddenly disappeared and I was convinced for a week that he was hiding out in my dishes or in my rubber gloves just waiting to pounce on me. I decided to be humane and not kill him, which I promptly regretted after his disappearance. I swore after that 5-day standoff that from then on I would promptly terminate all creepy bugs upon initial contact.

I've also been known to spend 30 minutes with a rolled up newspaper, gallivanting around an apartment, blocking egresses and pelting lamps and furniture just to kill a wayward fly that thought I wanted to play chicken with him. Literally. We're talking dive-bombing my head during dinner.

Well, my apartment never ceases to surprise me and today is no exception. So, I lounged around for most of the morning snacking and playing on my computer. Well, at about 2:30 PM I heard a roaring buzzing sound. I looked over and saw something flying at me from the kitchen/bathroom area. It was hard to distinguish whether it was a giant fly or a bumble bee so I jumped up and ran for the door--one of the two of us were about to leave my apartment! Luckily, the fly took my bait and flew right into the hallway, but I was left perplexed about where it came from. I had not left the apartment yet today so no door was opened. My windows have storm glass, a screen, and then another interior window. Where the heck did it come from?! Any thoughts?

Update x 2

Update #1-Good News:
I have heat.
Yes, I have heat, which is fantastic for the nightly temps dipping into the 20s and 30s. Bad news: It only works when my neighbor, Mike, turns his on or off. So unfortunately for him, he's got an annoying girl knocking on his door every other day to tell him she's cold or she's hot. Really makes for community building though, if that's what Walt is going for.

Update #2-Bad News:
I can't control my heat.
Unfortunately, since I can't control the temp I can't adjust it based on my needs (i.e. waking, sleeping, running a marathon, Tae-Bo, etc. ). More bad news: I don't like it to be hot when I sleep. So, 6am I wake up, temperature is 73 (which, interestingly, feels cold in the summer as air, but hot as heat in the winter). I can't sleep it's too hot. And to make matters worse either my heat is on (creaky hot water baseboard heat) or the mice are competing in an Olympics. I cannot fall back asleep because I am certain that I hear the pitter patter of hundreds of hurdling mice scurrying all over my apartment. I hear "tap tap" in the wall and am further convinced that they are trying to eat through a floor board or dry wall to create another egress. Yes, you can say it, I'm paranoid. So, thanks to my brilliant decision to actively pursue looking for mice I am now terribly afraid that I have them and that they run around my apartment in the middle of the night. I even turned the light on thinking they may get scared and scatter like roaches, but I made sure to not look so I wouldn't actually see them! Baahhhh! Why did I open this can of worms?

If tempted...DON'T DO IT!!

Why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why? I asked myself a thousand times over and every time came up with the same resounding and emphatic, "I DON'T KNOW!!" Anytime you think twice to yourself and say, "I really shouldn't be doing this," listen and don't do it!

So, it all started harmlessly this weekend. I was pulling into the way-too-small-rear-parking-lot and my neighbor was standing out back smoking a cigarette. We small talked a little about the heat and other random apartment-related topics. I then complained about the smell of my rental car (Old Milly is sick in the shop and my Mom was coming in town for the weekend) and insisted that he check it out to confirm that I'm not being unreasonable by having them give me a different car. He suggested that I roll the windows down and let it air out.

After giving him a look of disdain and shock, I said, "No way. I don't want to get bugs in my car!"

He said, "I leave my windows down for weeks at a time and there are no bugs in my car."

"Ha! There are definitely bugs in your car. I get spider webs in my car and I leave the windows up! You're totally driving around with bugs!"

"Well, if you're worried about bugs I probably shouldn't........ha.......uh........Andy and I have both seen mice in our apartments," he revealed with hesitancy.

"What?!" Apparently the apartment below me and next to me have mice...one general conclusion can be made...I have mice! "No you do not!" I challenged him.

"Oh, but I do. I saw one run across my kitchen floor one night at about 2:30 am."

Naturally, I gave him a typical Mom Kim speech about how that wouldn't have happened if he had been sleeping like all the other good little boys and girls at that hour. And we left it at that.

I spent all weekend insisting that my mom was careful walking around eating because I didn't want her to drop any crumbs and feed the mice. Well tonight I was laying in my recliner reading for my Wednesday night book study at church and thought, "hmmmm, I wonder if I had mice where they would be...Don't do it Kim. Stop. Don't get up." Oh, I've done it now. I got up and walked into the "kitchen", with by the way, is connected to every other "room" in my studio apartment. I peeked behind the oven. I couldn't really see so I started turning on all the lights in that area--my bathroom lights, kitchen sink light, stove light--it was bright enough to start landing planes in here.

Lo and behold I see not one, but two little mice. A nice little pair--one brown one and one white one. What the heck am I supposed to do?! I can't see them very well, but can they see me? My initial reaction was to tap on the stove, which I did, and fortunately they didn't respond at all. "Ok. So they think they are sneaky and hiding.... Wait, what if they had run, where would they have gone? Bad idea, Kim." All tapping quickly ceased. At this point I realized my reading for the week was not going to get done because not only had I succeeded at ruining my dinner, robbing myself of peace in my own apartment, and assuring that I never get a sound night of sleep again, I could no longer concentrate on reading about the Wisdom of God. On top of all that, I could not longer convince myself that the noises I heard at night were the heating pipes or plumbing. No. Now I am confident that the noises I hear are little mice families feeding their little mice babies, taking them to mice school, and doing whatever else little mice villages do inside peoples' walls.

At this point it's time to leave for church. I go to the study, mildly distracted by my mice colony, and then arrive back at home. The first thing I did upon walking up the stairs was knock on my neighbor Mike's door. "Do you have a flashlight?" I asked. "Somewhere, what for?" he responded. "Oh, you know, I was just checking for mice and I think I saw some behind my stove." After a futile search for the flashlight he comes back with a class project that involved creating a circuit board and attaching Christmas lights and programming different rhythms/patterns of flashing. Great, so we can't see the mice, but we'll at least try to kill 'em by inducing a seizure with the psychedelic mini strobe lights. Perfect.

Well Mike squats down and stares for a good 10 seconds with no response. Panic is running through my blood. At what point do I jump on the couch or coffee table? Is this really happening to me? He looks at me and says, "You don't have a cat do you?"
"No, why?"
"Ha. I think these are cat toys."
"What? No! It's real. Maybe it's dead. Do I have dead mice back there?"
"It's got googly eyes. It's not real. I'll get it out and show you."

Sure enough there are two mice "cat toys" behind my oven. I insisted on leaving them there in case they are actually scarecrows of sort, kind of like hanging an owl, frightening mice to stay out of my apartment. So, to date, I have not witnessed first hand any mice in my apartment and I will hopefully stay mice-free with the help of my mice-deterrent mice couple. If you were planning on visiting me, please don't cancel your plans, yet.

Panini Anyone?

Sometimes I feel more like a college student than a real adult.

Exhibit A. My makeshift panini press.















I was afraid my can of organic kidney beans would scratch my new Teflon pan, so I put a bowl in between and then realized how ridiculous, pathetic, and college-student-ish it looked.


Yet other times I feel like an old woman.














For example, when I'm in line at the grocery store and I bypass the People, Cosmo and US Weekly magazines and go straight for the latest Taste of Home magazine featuring festive recipes, I realize how old I am on the inside. The fact that I found "120 clip & keep recipe cards with photos" to be completely irresistible says something about me:)

Really, I think I'm just stuck in that transitioning phase. Kind of like Tom Hanks in Big...didn't he not belong with either age group or something like that? Little kid trapped in an adult's body? Wait, that's not really me either. Anyway, you get the point.

It's Time

Dear Mr. Landlord,

Please turn on the heat. It was 59 degrees in my apartment this morning when I woke up. I think it's time to light that boiler, flip that switch, do whatever you've got to do. I realize you don't live here and probably don't care, but let's get on it. I would like to spend some time outside of my bed and the 4 blankets I use.

Thanks!

Sincerely,
Polar in Providence


P.S. You are going to force me to switch out my fall fireplace decor for a real fire to keep warm, which, as we both know, is not technically permitted.

Fall Fireplace Candle Holder











(It sure is cute isn't it? It's currently burning Yankee Candle's Spiced Pumpkin tea lights. Oh autumn, you are divine.)

Guilt

I'm breaking the cardinal rule of my blog: telling a not so happy story.

So I went out to eat tonight with a friend from Florida, Josiah. We got a bunch of the Snack Hour specials at Uno Chicago Grill, but he had to rush back to work so we didn't get to eat all of the food we ordered. Well, since he's only here for work and is staying in a hotel he couldn't take any food with him, so I got to take all the leftovers home! :) So I walked my mile home through downtown with my two Styrofoam containers, excited about tomorrows lunch and dinner menus.

Well on my way home I saw a homeless man. Wanting to avoid the awkwardness I tried to cross the street before I got to him, but there was traffic and before I could cross he spotted me and implored, "Can you spare some food?! Can you spare some food?!"

"Of course I can," I responded without thought and then selected one of the containers for him and continued on my merry way.

Normally I would feel good about helping out a homeless person, instead of just lying and saying that I don't have any change, but about a half block away I realized that I should have given him both of them! That was the most selfish thing ever. He doesn't know when his next meal will be and I kept one for lunch tomorrow! I mean, my milk is sour and I've had leftover enchiladas for the past four days, but I at least have a stable food supply. Andrew tried to make me feel better by explaining that I was helping to sustain him and that he didn't need to gorge himself or keep meat overnight, but I just feel awful.

I was thinking that since I live in an urban area I could give a homeless person a granola bar or snack pack from my lunch (you know, in the carpet bag purse). I'd rather give a homeless person food instead of money. Don't worry though, I've got this city-gig under control. I'm not gonna feed them daily. The number one rule: Never stop walking. Just hand off and keep moving. Kind, but not making yourself vulnerable, hence why being prepared is best. If you're prepared it's safer that way--no stopping and shuffling through wallets, purses, etc. for money. Safety first!

The irony of it all was that as I boxed up my food, Josiah said, "Do you want this chicken quesadilla? I didn't even touch it?" I responded, "Sure! That will be great to take to work tomorrow for lunch." Then I jokingly added, "What if I have to give this great food away to a homeless person and never get to enjoy it?!" I said it all in complete jest since I've never encountered that situation before, but I think it really helped me to be mentally prepared. I would have been totally caught off guard. But now I'm thinking, what are the odds that I was walking home with two take-out containers of leftovers? I could easily have grabbed some food for dinner on my way home to eat at my apartment. That would have been a bigger test. Then what would I do? Give away my dinner and scrap something together or keep walking?

Saturday Morning Outrage

I don't know how to adequately display or explain this, but bear with me. So the cute little 1814 apartment I live in has some quirky 1800s characteristics accompanying it. One being, non-automotive features. At some point over the past 200 years a hill was created and a building erected on top of the hill directly to the north of my building. Well, my guess is that it happened at least 80 years ago because the driveway for our parking lot is barely wide enough for a car to get through.

Exhibit A
So basically every time, I, or anyone else from the 6-unit building enters or exits the parking lot, I fear for my life. There are a few things to fear. 1. I could scrape the nice rock foundation (on the right side of the picture) and mutilate the side of my car. 2. I could hit the side of the building and get mutilated by the landlord for structural damage (although I think it could somehow be his fault). 3. If someone else is pulling around the corner in their car, I fear that they will hit the side of the building, bringing my closet and bathtub raining down through the side of the insufficient structural support. Any way, I lose.

Well thus far, this has been no big deal. No one has died. No one has hit the wall. No one has decimated the side of the building. "Okay, then there is no problem," you think. Oh think again. Good, old, Walt, the landlord has gotten greedy. It only makes sense. Think about it: There are only 5 or 6 tenants in the building and only 5 or 6 cars. Nine cars could easily fit in the lot.
What?!

Yes, as if moving my car at 6:45 on a Saturday morning was not bad enough, I did it for this:
Mr. Greedy Landlord wanted to paint some lines and numbers. I realize that this cannot adequately represent the mayhem going on down there, but take my word for it, it's ridiculous. The spots are narrow and the turning radius is obsolete! One tenant has to park all the way to the right (spot 7, not shown) because the only way he can get out is by directly backing his Envoy straight out--none of that turning around the corner business. Well you've seen the narrow entry (it would be on the far lower right of this picture). There is no possible way for spots 8 and 9 to get out. They cannot turn around and do not have enough room to maneuver the required 180 degree arc turn in reverse. Lastly. Do you see the corner of the building on the top left of the picture? This is our laundry room. How in the world do you imagine someone pulling into spots 1 or 2?

So, the sad story is that we struggle to accommodate 6 cars and we may have to welcome some spot-renters up to 9 cars! The guy next door gets nervous just pulling his Schwinn in to the lot (ok, a little exaggeration).

Wow. Happy Saturday!

Apologies to Any Entomologists

You have a few less specimens to study and it's all my fault. Forgive me if this offends you, but I hate insects. All insects. From maggots to flies and fleas to mosquitoes. If it can crawl or fly and not tell me why it wants to bite or sting me, then I don't like it. Well, despite the fact that it was a crisp 62 degrees in my apartment when I woke up this morning there was a giant (ok, an oversize housefly) bug on my Joy dish soap. I couldn't tell if it could fly so instead of risking an escape from a missed swat I got out my trusty Eureka--appropriately named "The Boss" by the fine people at Eureka. I turned that cyclonic-powered vacuum on so fast that creepy crawly thing never saw it coming. Apparently 62 isn't cold enough to kill bugs. My thoughts are this: I can't wait for Winter. Not only because it's my favorite season or because it brings snow, lit fireplaces, winter hats, Christmas music, and a plethora of other amenities, but especially because Jack Frost nips the heck out of bugs. Last week there was a spider on my bed...I glory in the days when he is but a faded memory and not a reoccurring nightmare.

Dishwasher?

Who needs a dishwasher when your water comes in two temperatures: steaming and boiling? I didn't know that you could feel heat through rubber gloves til I moved here! I just hope this boiler matches the production of winter heat!

Rollerblades

Well, yesterday's post was a bit too long for me, so I'll make today's shorter to make up for it. My goal is an easy-read, short-updates, type blog to keep friends and family updated on the little details of my life. Again, inspired by the reader-friendliness of my friend in Brooklyn.

Well, I'm sensing a trend in my apartment: things that fall and make loud crashing noises when I'm alone and sleeping. So, I may or may not have mentioned that my 1814 abode is a bit slanted. I'm going with a 7% grade, but that could be underestimating it (way underestimating it). Well last night at about 4:30 my roller blades just up and went for a short spin. They rolled a little and then crashed to the ground! I was pretty sure it was someone coming through the wall or the door, but luckily that was just my judgment impaired by the fact that it was only in the 4 o'clock hour!

All is well. I have promised the blades a nice outing over the upcoming week. We will thoroughly take advantage of the crisp almost-fall weather (well unless Gustav, Hanna, or Ike stop by for a visit).

Labor on Labor Day

Well this has been quiet the "bachelor" weekend. It started with me making a trip to the hardware store Friday night to fix my closest (unsuccessfully, of course); eating pizza and bread sticks for dinner Saturday night (super unhealthy for me); attempting to fix my car on Sunday (ok, just watching as Sam worked on it); and using a plunger on something besides a toilet on Sunday.

So I apparently have too much stuff in my closet for the shelf and pole to carry the weight. No surprise for anyone that knows me, so I have to buy a 66.25 inch pole support it. No problem, they sell them at Adler's right down the street. No one's gonna mess with a dame with a five and a half foot pole in her hands. For all they know it's a giant nun chuck or saber or a joust--something to be feared either way.

I have so little food right now that I ordered in Dominos. I sat around in a messy, foodless apartment and watched a movie with greasy pizza hands in my bed! I definitely put it promptly in the fridge though, unlike some bachelors who leave it out all weekend and still eat it! I won't lie, I have eaten pizza left out for days before, and I'm still alive, so I guess I can't hate on those who do that. Having car problems definitely doesn't help me get to the grocery store any quicker. I have everything I need within walking distance (gas station, a Redbox, my hair lady, my dentist, a dozen restaurants, a movie theater, a mall, work, pretty much anything...except a grocery).

My battery light on my car is flashing...and when I accelerate, well my airbag light, oil light and check engine light, come on to join the party as well. So going for a spin results in a light show, what are you gonna do? It'll get fixed. There's also a car mechanic within walking distance too! So my car is broke, no biggie. It's only the second time she's let me down. She's a good car. Reliable, honest, and smitten with good looks.

And the last event in my weekend saga, the plunger. Well about once a week my razor holder likes to de-suction from the wall and the heavy, metal-garnished razor make an incredibly loud and unnecessarily frightening sound at about 3AM. Well last week took the cake. The clear, plastic, blade protector committed suicide. Sick of plummeting 5 feet, it jumped ship. Right down the drain. Well, luckily apartments built in 1814 don't have fancy drain covers, so it succeeded. I searched endlessly, but to my avail, it was gone for good. Well the combination of narrow piping, years of hair/debris and a razor cover lodged in the pipe create what I like to refer to as the "foot wash"...you know a 6 inch retention of water to soak your feet and make them nice and clean...or coated with the previous tenants' germs, skin cells and hair. Now, I don't like to call myself a genius, and I may quickly discover I'm not, but I just purchased a new plunger, which has yet to be christened by my commode. I took a risk and plunged my tub. Not only did it bring the razor cover back from the dead (like Lazarus), but it cleared up all drainage slow downs. It wasn't until just now that I realized the possibility that my tub-plunging could have burst pipes and flooded the guy's apartment below me...in the kitchen, during dinner time, of course (apologies to Andy).

Well, having spent the weekend basking in bacheloresque glory, I made sure to end the weekend by using my floral tools to hang a girly picture, organize my recipe cards, and do lots of domestic chores around the apartment all while dancing to my latest 80's and country favorites, of course. None of which would you find a guy volunteering to do.

Happy Labor Day! Hope you enjoyed your labor-free holiday!

Hello World!

So it's official! Brooklyn Worm Girl has inspired me to start a blog! I'll give you a little accurate, but unfortunate background on the formation of this blog.

I recently received a plethora of new furniture from a co-worker and moved into a new apartment. Well somewhere in the mix of all this, I discovered that one of the two blessings came with some friends. Maggots. Only 7 to date, but still enough to cause me extreme discomfort. So I spent a little time researching the best ways to get rid of the little baby flies and in the process discovered her blog. To say the least, it is witty and inspiring. I don't expect the same level of entertainment, but will aim high nevertheless.

So here's to regular updates for my family and friends who can't experience the thrills in my everyday life!