Poor Little Poor Girl

I hate the end of the month. I hate to be one of those people who always complain about having no money. I hate even more being one of those people who constantly writes about it. I know we all have our own financial woes to deal with, so I'm sure no one feels like hearing my yammer on and on about mine.

But wait a minute...I'm 26 years old now. I have a (pretty much) stable job, paid for car (however shoddy), and with (thankfully) no real health problems or mind-blowing debt (at least, that I know of). Basically, I'm exactly where I was years ago as a college student, dreaming about the day when I would be out in the real world, and able to afford whatever I could (within reason). I wouldn't have to worry about things like food anymore, only going to the places my meal plan covered. I wouldn't have to wait until Wednesday to do my drinking because we could get a free unlimited cup at the Crease. I'd be living it up, sipping cocktails at a sophisticated LOUNGE discussing things like world politics and the stock exchange with my equally sophisticated peers.

Yeah, that was the idea anyway. Oh how naive.

Now I'm just glad that I can make rent, put gas in my car, and stock a pantry with groceries. I don't know why I ever thought that just because you enter a certain age means you have to be a different person (hence that whole "sophisticated" business). I realize now, it's about finding a balance, with the kid you are at heart and the "grown-up" you will inevitably become.

Case in point, about a month ago my friend Erica and I decided to go to the city for dinner. We chose a place with a nice second floor view and valet parking. We each got a drink, and as we ate and talked, we both suddenly had a flash of adulthood. It wasn't bad actually, like I would've thought. It actually was kinda nice to be able to afford a nice meal, sitting amongst the yuppies of Baltimore. Almost like taking that lifestyle for a test-run.

But on the flip side, several weeks later we walked around Artscape with our friend Lauren. We meandered in and out of tents, looking at the home made jewelry and clothing. Whenever one of us picked up something we liked we'd cautiously peer at the price tag. And then we'd slink back out empty-handed. It seems we are close enough to taste that adult-world of luxury but not yet able to really feast on it. Which also brings up another point...who CAN afford these high end art pieces?

I recall once, when I was technically interning for a creative magazine, we had a meeting at a woman's apartment downtown. I buzzed the door of this beautifully maintained building, staring at a brass name plate. When I walked in and took a seat at this massive ornate wood table, my eyes seemed to dart all about the room. She had sculptures on mantels, elegant furniture, and paintings that ate up the walls. It was beautiful, and I wondered, what did she do to be able to get all this? My memory fails me now, but what I do remember is that she was at least in her 40s or 50s.

So maybe I have time before I can become one of those people who doesn't need to clip coupons or shop in the bargain bins. But then again, I hope I always retain some of that. It's more than just my stubbornness to grow up; it's part of who I am. Besides, an unlimited glass of Sex on the Beaches beats a stuffy old martini any day.

The Summer Bucket List

Wow, I really suck at this 5-Posts a Week thing. I'm considering making an amendment that declares I shall not even try to write on Fridays, at least until these 1/2 day Fridays are no longer in effect. I just end up beating myself up for the weekend. So, I'll try to, but if I don't, you'll know.

Anyway, happy Monday everyone! Can you smell that? I think there's a slight scent of Fall in the air. I noticed it last night as Joe and I sat in our folding chairs at Outlaw Jam, and we actually experienced our first chill in a long time. Sad, and I'm really not ready for the change, despite the fact that I managed to do some cool stuff this year: saw bands I always wanted to at some outdoor concerts- Scorpions at M3, Bad Company and Blue Oyster Cult at Outlaw Jam. I also combined a band I never saw with going somewhere I always wanted to go to- Collective Soul at Preakness. Plus we managed to get to the Beer, Bourbon and BBQ Festival, Artscape in Baltimore, even a dog expo.

However, there is still so much I want to do before the summer slips by, which is what tonight's post is about...my summer bucket-list.

1.) Crab Feast-- I know that anyone who knows me has probably heard me whining about the fact that I have YET to pick a single crab this summer. Truthfully I haven't been able to go to many crab feasts, either because I couldn't afford to, I was busy, or there just weren't any going on. I am hoping to rectify that soon, which leads me to #2.

2.) BBQs-- Now I have been to a few, but I could always go for more...especially since we moved into this place with the nice big yard that just SCREAMS BBQ. Joe and I have already plotted for a big Labor Day party, complete with meat, beer, and (you guessed it) steamed crabs.

3.) Taking a ride on the Tiki Barge-- This is something our friend Jeff told us about. Apparently it's a big docked party barge that holds both a pool and good sized tiki bar. We were planning to go the weekend we ended up getting Georgia on. I kept racking my brain to figure a way to both pick Georgia up AND manage to hit the barge (I know, it's so comforting knowing where my priorities lies...God, I'm horrible). Since we got her we've managed to leave her alone for several hours and now that we know we can pretty much trust her on her own I intend to see what that damn barge is all about.

4.) State Fair-- Not really surprising I haven't been yet, seeing as how it hasn't started yet. But we have made it to the fair every year for the past 2 or 3 years, and I really hate seeing a tradition die, so we will have to plan a day for that.

I have a bunch more things I'd like to do/see/eat/hear, but these are probably the ones I keep telling myself that I want to do most. I know there's still time. I just can't help but think, as we slowly start turning our A.C. off in exchange for the crisper night air, I know that summer will be gone just as seamlessly as it came in. Guess that means I have to stop being an anti-social cheapskate and get out there.

Oh well, see you tomorrow kiddos.

Sleepin' on the Job

Happy Thursday, everyone! God, I can almost taste that weekend goodness. If I seem a little hazy it's because we just got back from Bahama Breeze and I had a nice big strawberry daiquiri and a hefty dinner so it's very possible that I might fall asleep right on my keyboard.

And speaking of falling asleep, why is it that when you are in the least convenient place you get that hard-hitting merciless urge to sleep but when you finally get to a bed or sofa you are suddenly wide awake? I remember so often sitting in class in high school or college, listening to some oddly long or tedious lecture, and trying with all my will to keep my eyes open in case I miss something important...like the teacher's watchful eyes. I keep bargaining with myself, saying that if I can just last until then end of the day I will beeline it straight to my bed. But then the bell rings, I gather my things and head home, get into nap attire, slide into the covers and then...nothing. I end up staring at my ceiling for hours, trying to encourage the sleep to come back, but it's always useless.

The same thing happened to me alot this week at work. I've been working on one particular project for a few weeks now, but for some reason lately I've had those horrible bouts, yesterday being the worst. I could feel the urge coming on while working on one set of names. I was looking at the computer screen when all of a sudden my eye lids felt like they weighed 5 lbs each. Then my head began to droop, and I knew I was gonna be a goner. At first I tried to just shake it off, rubbing my eyes, splashing water in them, but to no avail. Since fighting it didn't seem to work, I figured I might as well see if I could sneak a couple of minutes of sleep without anyone noticing.

Fortunately my desk is somewhat hidden. Unfortunately, my desk is right near my supervisor's. I shifted my body by putting my back to the rest of the office, and held my head in my hand, hiding my eyes. Ok, sleep, if you insist, let's have it....nothing. I was still too worried someone might come by and notice me. I was worried, but still the sleep kept coming to my eyes. Finally, I was so desperate I took the card key and slipped into the bathroom and tried to sneak a few minutes of sleep. Still nothing, damnit. Luckily my annoyance scared the sleep out of me.

I keep referring to it as a bad thing. But actually, isn't it the most delicious feeling? Your whole body and mind being so completely relaxed, you feel like you are just going to drop. The only bad thing is that you can't indulge the feeling. It's as if your body knows it, too-Hey, here's the most tempting sleepy feeling ever but you don't get to enjoy it. That probably would've been a worse than a stupid apple for Adam and Eve.

Anyway, I'm gonna go indulge in my drowsy state...if I can. Below is Georgia's contribution to the blog (since she insisted on climbing on my laptop while I was typing this). I suggest you indulge in yours. Good napping!

bnhgfghjuoil;pjmfgsdhjiu\

Sensi-die

Isn't it interesting how when you are a kid you loathe the idea of having to go to the doctor or dentist? You'd bitch and whine to your parents about how you can't, trying desperately to find some kind of excuse to not to have to go. The only good time to see a doctor is when you are already sick, cuz then you might squeeze a sick day out of them. But then dentist has always been a source of unbelievable fear and anxiety, for me anyway. At least, until now.

Now, I freaking can't wait to go to the dentist, and after almost a whole year of working through this temp agency, I'll finally be able to enroll in the health benefits they provide. I remember so clearly sitting in the office, filling out the paperwork, and taking some b.s. typing test (which I'm pretty sure I failed. How the hell does a former English major fail at using Microsoft Word? Well, I can tell you, I probably wasn't the best English major). Then the girl who was assisting me came in with some paperwork concerning the health plans they offer.

"Oh really?" I had asked, excitedly. "What do I have to do to enroll??"

"Weeeell," she said, slowly handing me the folder. "Unfortunately, we only have open enrollment every August." And since it was already October, I realized I would have to suck it up...through majorly sensitive teeth...for almost an entire year.

Of all the annoying little attributes I seemed to have inherited (which my damn siblings seemed to have escaped), the bad teeth is probably the most painful. Not the bad eyes, oily hair, or crappy skin...I suffered, like many, through the rite of passage known as braces. And that was fine. I dealt with looking freakish for years and came out of it with better teeth for sure. But certainly not the best.

For one, I became lazy with my retainer, deciding I'd deal with a little tooth-shifting in exchange for a night's sleep that didn't involve torturous pressure in my mouth like in a god damn Saw movie. Since then one tooth has decided it prefers laying on it's side, but that's probably the least important reason I'd like to see a dentist. The runner-up being the fact that I STILL have a fossilized metal bracket backing my bottom front teeth that I should've gotten removed years ago but for one reason or other never had the time.

The main reason I need to see a dentist is for my son of a bitching sensitive teeth. This is has been something that has gone from being a minor annoyance to a full on change in my eating patterns. Now, it's not enough to avoid cold foods of ANY kind in varying degrees, but now I get surges of pain if I bite down on anything remotely too hot! I find myself waiting for a slice of pizza to cool to room temperature off or using a knife to slice into a peach to make smaller bites so I my teeth don't have to make direct contact.

I know, everyone keeps telling me to just keep using Sensodyne, which I have been using (or at least some form of) for months upon months now. You know what that crap helps me with? Taking away the pain of BRUSHING my teeth, and that's about it. I'm fairly sure I'm past the point of toothpaste.

At long last, August is nearly upon me and I can not WAIT to pick a freakin plan and make an appointment for a dentist. So buckle down my wrists, get the giant wads of cotton, and burn my eyes out with that giant alien-ship ceiling light- whatever needs to be done so that I no longer have to use a straw for oatmeal or chop fruit into swallowable pill forms.

So Long, Saddlebrook

Ok, so I'm gonna attempt to do the speediest post of my life because I've been doing this long enough to know if I don't do it now I will completely forget to later on today.

So the latest is that, at last, the weekend has come for Joe's parents to visit, which is pretty awesome, although I seem to have retained some of that old fashioned "must impress the in-laws" mentality where I want to make sure everything is perfect. It's kinda unwarranted because A.) they are totally relaxed and easy-going fun people and B.) Ummm they AREN'T my in-laws. Even so, Joe and I busted our asses all day yesterday cleaning and organizing our madhouse of a townhouse to make sure it was not only livable but comfortable. And I must say, it did turn out pretty well.

I walked down to the kitchen this morning to let Georgia out, and I suddenly got this warm-cozy feeling. To finally see the place pretty much all set up, with our pictures and art up, and all the furniture laid out, it allowed me to take a final breath and say, "Ahh, I'm home." The feeling began yesterday when Joe's mom and I went back to the old place one more time. She had never seen it, so we walked around the once packed apartment into the open space that I hadn't seen in two years. I realized just how small it had been, and yet at the time we got it, we figured it would be plenty of space.

We walked down to the rental office to drop off the keys, showing her the pool area and explaining all the little alcoves that held some sort of memory. I had to basically shove the stupid keys into the Rent Drop box, smiling at the irony of how even now, with no claim to us anymore, Saddlebrook still liked to mess with us. Oh well.

We walked back to the car, and with a final look to old place we drove out. I did experience some feelings of melancholy. Even Joe joked, saying, "I know you. Even though we were sick of this place you are going to feel sad about leaving and say, 'It wasn't so bad'". He was right. Even though we will still find reasons to go through the neighborhood, it won't be the same. After two years of living somewhere (which, in rental terms, seems like a long time) you can't help but feel connected to the place. Maybe not completely with the actual apartment, but the neighborhood for sure. There's the place Joe filmed the Christmas movie, there's my running route, there's the Target we always went to, there's the place I first tried Indian food. So many memories that I'll take with me, but won't ever be able to really visit again.

I don't know if I could call it home. I still have a hard time calling ANYWHERE in Maryland home. And yet, this new place, it feels the closest to home than any other place I've lived. We have to do more exploring, rediscover Towson as adults instead of as students. But there are more memories to be made here. The holidays and seasons we have yet to experience here will become rich with memories...and then maybe I can call it home.

My View

**UPDATE**The Living Year- Day 43

And people thought I should just do one month...well look at me now folks! Over a month visually sober, and I can already feel some brain cells becoming re-charged. I feel like George when he has to give up sex and finds himself to be a walking genius...yet the really surprising thing would be for me to make a non-television reference. Oh well, baby steps...

While I can honestly say I really don't notice the fact that I'm not watching television anymore, it does present itself in odd ways. In one instance, the Verizon lady came to install our Internet and when she asked if we were going to get television as well, I proudly replied, "Actually, no. I gave up television...for a whole year!" She didn't try to push the extra service, nor did she seem particularly impressed, but just smiled and said, "Oh ok. Well, if you do decide to, here's my card."

The only other times I really notice is when people are retelling a certain scene of an episode of something. And I really don't find myself dying to tune in to anything...except for maybe The View.

Now, I'm sure alot of you will say what a waste that would be. To break a promise of giving up tv for a year and be tempted by a show like that? My only defense would be that sometimes, that show is worth the extra few deleted brain cells. Especially for the episode I heard about on the "Mike O'Meara Show" in which Kathy Griffin butt-slammed Elisabeth Hasselbeck.

From what I can recall, Elisabeth was complaining about something Kathy said, and Kathy in response, basically gave her an "F You". Not exactly, but in some other choice witty/dirty words. (I know, that's a really shitty recap)

It's moments like that I wish I was home still in my pajamas, watching to my heart's content while eating a bowl of Rice Krispies and a bagel. Back when Rosie was the cohost, you could forget about me being anywhere from 11 to 12 during the week- that was event television. But since she left, the show hasn't been as surprising or controversial. Sure, Whoopi is good cuz she's pretty level-headed. And I do enjoy Joy's commentary. However, Kathy is the closest to a real spit-fire that they can get to really rub Elisabeth's face in it.

I know few people like The View, and even fewer like Kathy Griffin. I enjoy the Hot Topics segment where you actually get some honest discussions going and some legitimate information before they start ass-kissing whatever television star is there to plug some made-for-television movie. And as for Kathy- while she's not ALWAYS on her game, I appreciate how she tries to keep herself in check and does a good job at reminding us that the idea of celebrity is as fake as Cheez Whiz. While she humorously tries to make it to the top, she can't help but show how authentically human and normal she is.

That's my view, anyway...

Gettin' My Hands Dirty

So basically the reason I was late (or missing, I should say) with a post yesterday is because we are STILL in the midst of moving, which is getting old, let me tell you. Moving SUCKS! Let the sound of that word sink in...SSSUUUCCCKSSS. Joe and I both, short-fused and short-tempered, have been hauling 2 years worth of crap into the bed of his truck and my car for the past week. I really shouldn't complain, because really Joe has suffered the brunt of the moving shit storm, but it is still pretty annoying to me.

I think it's been doubly difficult because we've been bringing Georgia with us over there, thinking she'd be good and quiet while Mommy and Daddy swear under their breaths and break finger bones lifting boxes and crates that have unknown realms of crap inside. But no, she seems to mistake the disassembled apartment for her own personal PlayPlace, and continued to leap and chew on anything she could get her mouth on. So while asking each other questions or game plans we have to constantly tell her no or avoid tripping on her. Needless to say we are both so SICK of moving I am so glad we can actually see ourselves staying here for a while, cuz I'd just as soon torch my belongings than have to move them into another place.

So, that all being said, I do really love how the new place is coming along. And, surprisingly enough, I'm finding the things I disliked about the place are slowly becoming not bad...even good. For one, the bathroom, which anyone who has followed this thing knows I was really upset with...But now, since Joe sprayed the tub with a refinishing spray, and I've gotten to see what it's like with a window that actually blows fresh air...I actually think I love the bathroom. Once we get a storage thing in there, it really is gonna be a nice little bathroom.

Also, the kitchen, which still irks me with the lack of counter space and available wall space, but I've actually grown to not totally hate the "no dishwasher" thing. I think it helped that we are coming from an apartment with such a crappy dishwasher that we had to hand wash the dishes anyway. It's not a total shock. But it is shocking that I don't really mind hand washing stuff...which is the breadth of what this post is about...

You ever see that scene in "When Harry Met Sally", where Harry is describing the two categories of women?: the low maintenance and the high maintenance. I've always wanted to be categorize as the former, yet for some reason I think I actually fall under the latter. Not really because of how I like to look or my fashion sense (which anyone will tell you is safe to dub "low" maintenance). But food, especially caked-on cold-and-stuck-in-the-sink food, makes me really high maintenance.

I don't know when it began, but ever since I was a kid and we'd clear the dinner table I always was grossed out by touching cold food. My mom or dad would ask me to wipe down the table with a sponge and I used to hold it like a scalpel, carefully dusting the food so it wouldn't touch my skin. It got so bad that at one point I just started volunteering to clear the packaged or bottled things, just so I didn't get stuck wiping the table.

The only thing worse in my mind, when we didn't have a garbage disposal, was clearing the sink of stuck food. GOD, it still grosses me out, just thinking of that slimy cold rice or peas. I really figured this same weird aversion would become a serious problem at this new place. With no dishwasher OR garbage disposal, I'd have to deal with this cold food all the time!

But, like anyone with a problem, you find a way to cope. My first thing? Rushing hot water into the sink, to not only warm my hands but warm the dishes and caked-on food. Next, I still avoid actually touching the stuff stuck in the sink my maneuvering a fork to lift the catch and then carefully lift it over the garbage can. No fuss, no muss.

Since I have those ways around it, washing the dishes really isn't so bad. In fact, it's almost like knitting, in that you seem to do it mindlessly, and plus you have the reassurance that it's clean because YOU cleaned them. Now, granted I haven't had a pile that consisted of more than just a couple of bowls and pans, but I think as long as I can scald the pots and not touch the drain...I think I'll be just fine....