Staycation

Ok, I'm not gonna lie, I'm still sorta feeling that massive glass of Pinot Grigio I had with dinner...my third Restaurant Week restaurant, I might add. And to answer your question, I had this crap and artichoke stuffed filo for an appetizer, a seafood bouillabaisse for dinner and a trio of Mediterranean desserts. Oh, and I had a small break through- not sure if it was because of the wine, but I tried my friend Ash's appetizer (which was CHILLED shrimp in a citrus sauce) and actually liked it! I ATE A COLD DISH! What is becoming of the world??

Anyway, that's really not what this post is supposed to be about. It's about the fact that EVERYONE and their mother has been/is going on vacation, while Joe and I putter around the house for the 10th weekend in a row. Now, I hear you say, 'But Kris, didn't you guys JUST move in to your new place? Isn't it still new and exciting?' Well, let me tell you loyal reader, it is NOT! Well, it is a little bit, but I can't help feeling the drag of not having an actual vacation in over 3 or 4 years.

Granted, Joe and I did take two beach trips; one to Ocean City and then to Virginia Beach. I honestly can't remember which one we did first..do you see what I mean about it being a long time? And though both were fun, they were also way too short, in my humble opinion.

Also, I must admit that this summer the move really ate away our money and time (the two basic essentials for a vacation). Still, as aware as I am about these facts, I can't help noticing all the trips and time off people around me seem to be getting. Hell, even my radio personalities have taken numerous vacations. Mickey, of the morning show I listen to on 98 Rock, was interviewing the major of Ocean City, and described how he went down for a few weeks! He even said he was going to try to make another weekend trip soon! And it doesn't stop there. I noticed on my favorite NPR shows that the co hosts there seem to be taking turns taking their vacations.

Even as I look around my office I notice people missing here and there, only to discover THEY had unused vacation time. Though it's terrible to think, I keep wishing them sunburns and rainy days, just out of spite.

Did you know that in many countries in Europe, they actually require you to take a few weeks off? Without any penalty or anything. My friend Dave told me this once, when he explained all the various trips he intended to take. It was further confirmed on a segment on Sunday Morning (one of my ritual shows that I do miss terribly).

Maybe I'm being obsessed. It's just that back when I was a kid, I guess I was pretty spoiled, at least where vacations were concerned. In fact, my cousin Beck and I were just texting about those trips tonite, which we often did with both families, offering up little tidbits of memories...

"Remember the drive down to Captiva and the dolphins?", she texted.

"Remember the raccoon stuck on the roof?", I texted back.

"Remember when your brother threw up hot pink stuff in the hot tub?", she replied.

"Remember that kid, Chip, who was kinda weird but we liked boys so we wanted him to hang out with us?", I responded.

So many memories. So many trips. But as we got older, and schedules became more rigid, the vacations seemed to drift away. By the time I got to college I was usually unable to go for trips with my family, and before I knew it years had passed since my foot stepped inside a crowded airplane to touch down in a new place. I swear, last week's trip to pick up Ashley was the closest I had been to an airport in ages. *Sigh*

And though I should count myself fortunate (having family still up by the Jersey shore allotted me at least some quality beach time, though not as much as I would've liked), I feel sympathy for Joe, who has been trying to get away to Myrtle Beach (HIS family's old vacation spot) for ages now.

We keep trying to tell ourselves that once the paychecks are not being used up for other things, like security deposits and mattresses, we will have a proper vacation. But still, I think Europe has got it right. I could think of some things to do with 6 weeks of vacation time. Even if it was just to Ocean City.

Hinder-us-in-a-Webb...of Deceit!

Today, believe it or not, is a momentous occasion. At long last I have paid the last of my debt to the evil corporation known as Hendersen-Webb. For those of you fortunate enough to NOT know/deal with this company, Hendersen-Webb is a property management company that owns several smaller apartment complexes. My affiliation with Hell-in-a-Webb began like any horror story...innocent and lovely and yet by the end it had become a monstrous beast scarfing down money and spewing out court orders. But then I should begin at the beginning...

At the time, I was readying myself to return to Baltimore after nearly a year of living back home in New Jersey. I had gotten a call around mid-summer while relaxing on the beach with my sister, Hill. I didn't right off recognize the number so I let whoever it was leave a message. It was from a school out in Dundalk, explaining they had found my resume online and were interested in meeting me. At long last, after months and months of failed attempts of finding a job, one had found me. I was thrilled, although it meant returning to Maryland, a place of some major heartbreak.

At any rate, when I told Ashley about my impending move she exclaimed how we ought to move in together again, just like the old days. Seeing as how there was little chance I'd be able to find anything I could afford on my own anyway, we set up a date to meet down in Maryland to check some places out.

Since she was already down there, Ashley was able to do some research on her own. One place she suggested was back in Timonium, our old stomping ground from when we were finishing our degrees in Towson University. We arrived at the rental office and a woman let us into the available apartment. It was simple, just a two bedroom with a single bathroom, living room, dining room, and kitchen. But there were plenty of views of the trees around us, and the price was pretty ideal. We discussed it and decided it would work out fine for us.

We continued living with this mindset for almost the whole year. Ash and I were getting along great, Joe was back in my life, and he and I even discussed moving in together for a second go-round. Nothing could prevent everything from working out...until we got....the LETTER....

I had gotten the mail one day when we were nearing the end of our lease, and tucked in amongst the bills was a letter from Hendersen-Webb saying we had to give them notice if we were planning on leaving. Since we still had some time, and honestly I think my mind was just elsewhere, I kinda forgot all about it. I mentioned to Ashley that we had to let them know if we were moving out, but again, I doubt I was really candid about the details.

It became a thought that just tended to nag me in the back of my brain, but, as is typical of the procrastinator's brain, I figured I'd get to it "eventually", that wonderfully always available time that never seems to come until finally, one day, "eventually" came. We realized we had to let them know immediately otherwise they'd automatically renew our lease for ANOTHER YEAR!

Frantically Ash and I sent them the note telling them our intentions, either on the day or maybe ONE day late. But by then the damage had been done. We had figured we were in the clear, until another letter came, claiming that, although they DID receive our letter of intention it was too late and so we would be responsible for another...whole...year of rent.

We were speechless. Just a couple of out-of-college semi-adults who had already signed onto new leases with different complexes could in NO way afford to pay rent to another freakin company for a whole damn year. We pleaded with them that it was only a DAY late, and since they got the note then it shouldn't have mattered anyway. They wouldn't listen. We explained to them that we were both on small incomes, just able to pay our current rents, and asked them to help us. They didn't care.

After some frequent calls Ash found out that if we could find someone to take over the lease, we would be off the hook. I began posting ads on craigslist every couple of weeks, and with every new post we'd get a fresh batch of interested renters, all of which either visited the place and never returned or simply stopped returning my calls. We were at a dead-end, and I felt it was mostly my fault.

Begrudgingly we paid them the additional rent when we could. But before long it began catching up to us. Whenever I had to go back to the scene of the crime, I'd be met with a court order or official letter threatening legal action for lack of payment. I'd just shrug in that way that means its hopeless. There was no way we could've done anything more. They weren't willing to help, so they wouldn't get money from us. We couldn't help it, we were out of options. Meanwhile when we had left they were free to rent our apartment themselves, PLUS get the money we owed. You see the horns coming out yet?

Then another day I got a call from a legal firm saying that they were representing Hendersen-Webb. It was a nice-sounding woman so I sucked it up and called back. She seemed grateful that she didn't have to do alot of phone-tag, saying, "It's so much easier when people are willing to work with you."

And so, I have been paying this company...this vile wretched company...money that they don't even NEED. The apartment's been rented. They didn't lose anything. Meanwhile Ash and I have had this monster sucking away at our bank accounts for over a year now.

But today, as I handed over 5 big ones, I cursed their name again. I hope the person who has been the final say from Hendersen Webb all this time gets this money and is cursed. Not with anything deadly, but with something worse...annoying little things, like flat tires, hang nails, and leaky faucets. Something that would just gnaw away at their senses the same way they've gnawed at us all this time. We shall have our vengeance yet, oh Hitler'son's-Webb! Your day shall come.

Everything is Coming Up Milhouse...

First off, let me say hello and welcome to the...that's right...SECOND follower for this blog. Ahh, it feels good to be a winner...

Unfortunately, however, I am having a hard time thinking of something to write tonite. I'm gonna try and maintain writing every weekday (incl Friday), but last night was a little too crazy. So I guess I'll write about today, a.k.a. MY day.

You ever see that episode of CSI where everything goes Hodges way? He finds the dollar on the ground, that chick who looks like she came off a toothpaste ad from the 90s smiles at him, he gets three bags of chips from that single aforementioned dollar in the machine, all to finally come together when he solves the mystery of the Miniature Killer. (And I apologize for the massive spoiler if there was one). That was basically my day today.

At first it didn't start well. Last night we had plans with another couple at their apartment and as the wine kept coming my phone slipped out and I didn't notice till we were on our way home. (I don't why, but when I've had a couple drinks I am obsessed with making sure my essentials: wallet, car keys, phone, lip balm, make it back home-I think it's more because I HATE preventable accidents, it just pisses me off) So I went from being sweet towards Joe to being Pissy O'Bitch before we even got home--poor guy.

I was also stressed because Joe was leaving to film a festival in West Virginia so I had to hope that my friend would respond to the text I sent her on Joe's phone before he headed out. Luckily she did, and I was ready to get it. As I was driving my friend Ashley, who is so busy I usually don't get to see her often even though we live a baseball throw away from each other, was on her patio and waving me down. She was trying to call me, but after I explained why I wasn't answering we made plans to hang out at her restaurant after she was done with work. So that made me feel good.

Then, I picked up the phone (+ the case of beer that we originally brought for them but they said they really wouldn't drink it--Score!) and headed to my big mission for the day...finding a gift for my friend Kelly's son birthday. Again, I was feeling stressed. Maybe it's me, but I HATE trying to get gifts for others because I am always worried the person will hate the gift. I know it's incredibly irrational and a waste of worry. But fortunately I have stock piles of worry that are constantly refilled.

I was set at ease with a very pleasant and sweet message from Kelly so again, made my little self-esteem barometer raise a bit. THEN I get to the Babies R' Us (hoping to heaven like hell that his wish list would work there instead of TOYS R US which was way out in Jahomafuck) and (angelic ahhhh) they had the gifts I wanted to give him PLUS it was under my budget. Kick that Ass..

Then, after getting my free bread from Target (thank you coupon) I decided since Joe was not around to say things like, "come on let's go", or "don't you already have something like those?", or "you ever think that shoes are just made to give us bunions so we keep podiatrists in business?" I decided to stop over at DSW. I mean, even though I haven't technically worked there in over a month I did still have my discount card, so wouldn't I be foolish if I DIDN'T get myself a few more pairs of shoes before it ran out/they realized that very fact that I haven't work in over a MONTH. I had no choice if you think about it.

So I found two pairs (that I really did need) and a new bag (ok, I really didn't need that but what the hell). I walked up to the counter and as I pulled out the card I held my breath hoping a red-flashing light wouldn't go off and a massive message didn't flash on the register screen that said "THIS IS NOT AN EMPLOYEE SHE IS SCAMMING YOU OUT OF $20.97 WORTH OF DISCOUNTS". When that didn't happen of course, I walked out the door beaming.

And then finally, after the birthday party, I figured since I was going by my hair salon (and since I haven't had my hair cut since around Thanksgiving) maybe by some miracle they could fit me in. I walk in and the place looks deserted. Not only could I just walk-in, but the girl who cut my hair seemed the most educated and professional stylist I've ever had. She gave me tips on what I ought to be using, helped me figure out what was wrong with my last cut, and even read my mind by adding some layers in the back.

Ahhh, so NOW i am just chillin with my new episode of "It's Me or the Dog," looking forward to tonite. Could my luck turn tomorrow and be a fully-realized nightmare? Will I win the lottery? Guess you'll have to read on Monday...du du duuuuu