the joys of renting

I have had it with douche bag landlords who charge me out the ass for rent when they don't give a shit about their properties. We pay $775 a month for a two-bedroom apartment that has the following amenities:

1. No central air.
2. Draftiness.
3. Plumbing issues.
4. A luxurious seven-minute hot shower.
   
5. A fridge that maintains a temperature of 60 degrees on it's coldest setting, causing food to spoil at amazing rates.
   
6. A window (in my bedroom) that pours water when it rains.
7. Window units that have the wrong amount of BTU's for the square footage of the rooms they are trying so desperately to cool in the Alabama heat.
8. Flying roaches.
9. An oven with only one rack
10. A stove with four unlevel eyes
    
11. A dishwasher that leaves mystery crust on the dishes
12. A bathroom with no ventilation or electrical outlets

Just today I had to take a maintenance issue into my own hands. Our tub hasn't drained properly since I moved in a couple of months ago. After calling the landlord, who is super creepy, and him coming to "fix" it, we were still up to our calves in dirty water every time we showered. I went to Walmart and scoured the plumbing aisle for the right product that would remove whatever was clogging the drain. The usual suspects were all there, and I knew from previous experience in past apartments that they did no good. Then I saw a smaller bottle that was double the price of the rest of them, it's most distinguishing feature being the heavy-duty plastic bag that it was encased in. The bag read, "Do not remove." If whatever was in that bottle was lethal enough to need extra coverage, that was the product for me.

When I got it home and read the instructions, I began to see that this stuff wasn't messing around. It required the use of rubber gloves and protective eye wear, and was capable of burning holes through things. Not having either gloves or safety goggles, I was forced to improvise, donning a giant pair of sunglasses and wrapping my hands with grocery sacks. I carefully cut the top off of the bag and removed the child-safety lid from the bottle. The smell was putrid. I began to pour it down the drain, and it went down pretty well at first ... and then it started to gurgle and bubble and spit black goo into the tub. The smell forced me out of the bathroom and into my bedroom where I stuffed a towel under the door to prevent the rotten-egg stench from entering. Twenty minutes later it was time for the five-minute cold water flush. After a few minutes of running water I began to hear the chug and slurp of water going down a drain. My drain. I took a shower even though I didn't need to just to remember what its like to not stand in my own filth. The apartment may smell like someone hid a dozen eggs under the sofa a few months back, but dang it - the tub drains.

Take that, Landlord. I am better than you.

women, the church, & sex

It seems that I have been having the same conversation with every single woman in my life lately. Every car ride, dinner, or cup of coffee has led to discussions of single Christian women and our views, struggles, and misconceptions regarding lust and sex. For years this has been a taboo topic in the church, and viewed as strictly a "male problem."

I have this to say to single Christian women everywhere: It is completely normal for us to want to have sex! In fact, by biological standards, it is abnormal for us to NOT be having it. True, our drives might not rival those of of men, but they are present and powerful - especially during certain times in our cycles (thanks for making me feel like a man, Ovulation). This does not make us perverted or dirty, it makes us creatures created by God to enjoy the gift of sex. We have God-given drives and desires just like men do, and to ignore the fact that so many of us are struggling with lust and feeling like crazy people because of it is a disservice to our mental, physical, and spiritual well-being.

It hasn't been until the past few years that I have felt free enough to discuss this with other women. Or maybe it just hasn't been as much of an issue for me until I hit my late twenties and my baby-maker started going crazy. But over and over again, I am hearing women say that they think about sex - a lot. That is takes everything in their power to not jump their boyfriends (or non-boyfriends, for that matter), or look at a man with lust. It is real, and it needs to be acknowledged and addressed.

If we are to be pleasing to God in this area* it is going to take honesty with each other, and the willingness to ask hard questions. The last thing that my flesh wants to do is stay pure. In fact, I will be the first to admit that my past and my present are full the brim with impurity. Sexual sin is one of the hardest to resist, and one that has devastating consequences and effects on our spiritual lives. I hope to have many more conversations with friends, and address the issues in my own life - though reluctantly at times, I'm sure. I hope to take what sometimes seems impossible and place it in the hands of Jesus, and to help and be helped to do that.


* Matt. 5:8; Job 31:11-12; Ex. 20:14, 17; 1 Thes. 4:7-8; Eph. 5:3

hello, gorgeous

I went to a thrift store today to look for old picture frames, and instead came out with this beauty. I've been thinking of selling my ho-hum sofa and getting something both more neutral and with a little more character. I did not expect to find it for a mere $35. Now all she needs is a coat of paint and a reupholstering job.

I haven't picked it up yet, seeing as I drive a Corolla, so if anyone is out there with a truck who is willing to help a girl out, it would be much appreciated. And maybe compensated in some way.

Also, if you know of a good and reasonable upholsterer, I'm looking for one of those, too.

my latest means of escape

When I thought I was going to be starting school soon, I avoided starting anything that would take up too much of my time. I didn't start books I didn't think I could finish, didn't make social commitments that would hinder my concentration during the long summer of reading and writing, and certainly didn't start watching any insanely popular tv shows on dvd that are already in their fifth season.

That's right, I've become one of them - a LOST watcher.  I've almost completed two seasons in two weeks.  That, friends, is what we call ridiculous.  It is quite an addiction.  Given my attraction to all things ethnic, my favorite character, so far, is Sayid (Naveen Andrews).  Not only is he Indian (in real life ... he plays an Iraqi man on the show), he also has a British accent.  Hot!

Only two more seasons to go until I catch up to the current season.  It will be so depressing when I have to wait for a new episode every week.

jumping jack fail

I can't stop laughing at this video.

i'm a schizophrenic decision maker

Remember how I was going to start English classes this summer? Yeah, I'm not going to do that.

As I suspected, this has been a hard thing for me to admit. I hate making decisions and then turning back. It takes a blow to my pride, and my tendency to think that I know what is best for me. But I became increasingly nervous and dreadful of starting school every time someone would ask me about it. I'm going to take that as a message that I don't really know what I am getting into. So, after a conversation about it with friends at brunch on Sunday, I went home and immediately dropped my classes. And felt very, very relieved.

I am not going to pretend to know the next step this time. I plan to take the summer to work, save some money, be quiet for a while, and wait for some clarity. Come on, clarity.

so many hats, so few lives

If I could have it my way, I would be all of the following in my lifetime, in no particular order:

1. Writer
2. Photographer
3. Registered Dietitian (specifically, Holistic Nutrition)
4. Hair Stylist
5. Owner of a tea shop
6. Chef/Restaurant Owner
   
7. Social Worker
8. Full time mom
9. Vocalist for an indie folk rock group
10. Professional cellist or fiddle player
    
11. Baker
12. Interior designer
13. Seamstress

Obviously, I lack sufficient talent in some of these areas. But it would be a good life, no?

going veggie*

There has been a big change in my life since I last posted. In the past couple of weeks, I have made the decision to adopt a vegetarian diet, something that I have been considering for a little over a year. There are many reasons for this change, but listing them here would seem like a campaign of sorts … and I don’t want to be one of those vegetarians (even though I have a propensity toward persuasion). But if you’re a guessing sort of person, you are probably guessing correctly.

I had mentioned to my mother in a text message the other day that I am now a vegetarian, and didn’t get much response from her. I talked to her last night and clarified the statement. It went a little something like this:

“Mom, I am a vegetarian.”
“You mean my little chicken eater isn’t going to eat meat anymore?”
“Yes, that’s what I mean.”
“Forever?”
“Yes, forever.”

We went on to discuss how I wasn’t going to eat turkey at Thanksgiving, but how that didn’t mean I couldn’t eat at all at family gatherings. This is going to be interesting.

If anyone has any pointers for a new vegetarian, feel free to leave them in the commets section. Unless you’re going to be a tool and say something like, “You should it meat because it is delicious.”


*Yes, this is almost the exact same post I put on Recession Diet, but I felt the need to share it here.

i'm pretty sure my head just exploded

I receive frequent emails from a recipe website, and opened one today entitled "13 Great Ideas for a Girl's Night In." One of these brilliant ideas was called "Celebrating Being Single." Below is an excerpt from the article which has left me unfortunately lacking a head:

"There's a lot to be said for being a single girl. The toilet seat is always down. There are no arguments about taking out the trash. The television remote is all yours. And, you can always stop and ask for directions. Rejoice and make Valentine's Day a day to highlight the joys of single life."

Well, that just about covers it. Not only do I get to live with other women - something that is more unnatural than learning to live with the opposite sex, in my opinion - I get to always have the toilet seat in it's correct position, always have control over the blessed television, take out my own trash, ask for directions, AND throw fabulous parties at which I raise my champagne flute to toast all of the other women who have the same "good life" as I do. What could I ever have to complain about?!

Silly me.

mystery motivator

Text Message, 9:00 am ...

Mystery Motivator: Get up and get dressed, we have things to do.

Me: Who is this?

Mystery Motivator: I sent that to the wrong person. My bad.

Me: That's cool. I really did need to get up and get dressed, though. Thanks for the reminder, mystery person.

oh, keyboard cat

uno

There is nothing that single girls like to talk about more than their singleness. Whenever we all get together, somehow the topic always shifts to the absence of men in our lives - a conversation that I imagine sounds insane and sad from the outside. This kind of talk can often ere on the side of self-pity, and usually leaves me feeling like I have to take some sort of action to make myself more available, attractive, dateable, etc. But today, I ran into a dear friend at a wedding and as the conversation made its natural shift in that direction, I found myself feeling hopeful and validated. She talked about how she had been in a really rough place last winter in regards to singleness, with all of her friends having become attached and unknowingly leaving her feeling alone. She talked about seeing the guys that she is friends with go for girls that are super-attractive and like to play a pick-up game of frisbee (we both agreed that if that is what it takes, we will both forever be single). She talked about listening to her friends make plans with other couples in front of her and feeling left out.

In the middle of her darkness, she met with a woman who hadn't gotten married until she was 32 ... someone who knew the ache of loneliness and the joys and realities of marriage. That woman told her that whenever she has thoughts like, "If only I were prettier," or, "If only I were skinnier," or, [insert self-deprecating thought here], she can instantly dismiss them because they simply aren't true. God isn't waiting around for us to become skinnier or prettier or funnier ... He is waiting because it is in His plan for us, because He knows what we need, and because He is preparing the hearts and lives of the couples He wants to be together. Although that is something that I kind of already know, it was good and refreshing to hear. My constant fear is that I am not thin or pretty enough to be loved - a fear that resides to varying degrees in all women. While attraction is a real and obvious part of the beginnings of a relationship, I would much rather have someone be interested in what I think than my size.

I am also coming to realize that the idea of marriage or the "lovey" feelings aren't necessarily what I'm after anymore. Love and affection are important, and I can't wait to have those things, but the strongest craving is for companionship. Someone to be on my team. Someone to care for and fight for me. Someone to make decisions with, and to laugh with. Someone to settle into a home with (and stay there for more than a year!). Someone who knows what to do when the breaks on my car are squeaky, who wants to hear about my bad day. A friend, until death do us part. If waiting for that person means waiting for ten more years, that has to be okay with me.

Things Not to Do at a Coffee Shop

1. Do not approach the counter having no idea what you want, especially if there is a line. Take your time looking at the menu, stand around in the store all day if you must, but when you step up to the counter it is Go Time.
2. Do not let your teenagers come into the store to hang out if they are only going to get free water or cups full of whipped cream. This is rude, and your giggling gaggle of teenage girls is annoying. (P.S. Send your kids to me when their cheerleading uniforms start to get too tight and I'll tell them what they did wrong).
3. DO NOT assume that the tip jar is a "take a penny, leave a penny" jar. If you want to piss off your barista, go ahead and take money from the tips. I dare you.
4. Do not try to underhandedly get things for free. You want a coffee refill? You gotta pay for it. You want an extra shot? Tell me before you've already paid. You want soy milk? That costs extra. This may be a recession, but coffee is a luxury, not a necessity. If you don't have the money, don't try to buy it.
5. Do not order the most complicated drink known to man and then not leave a tip.
6. Do not pitch a fit because your favorite Gigantic Coffee Chain discontinued "your drink."
   
7. Do not assume that your barista is an idiot. If you ordered decaf, you don't have to ask five times to make sure that it is decaf. Remember, most people who work at the Gigantic Coffee Chain either have college degrees, or are currently obtaining them. This ain't Burger King, people.
   

fast forward

So, I mentioned in my last installment that I might be moving sooner than later. It will definitely be sooner. For those who may not know, I've been living at my house alone since the end of March - a deal that I struck with my landlord as a plea for mercy after losing my job and not having the money to store all my junk until I can move in to my new apartment in May. The only stipulation was that if someone needed to move in during April, they would have to be accommodated. I got a call from the landlord earlier this week saying that someone needs to move in next weekend, and got a final message today that the guy can't be held off any longer and needs to move in by the 17th.

So, I am moving into an awesome apartment in Highland next Friday with my good friend Keri. Who is lovely. She is currently living with another friend, and the plan was going to be to shove all of my stuff into the apartment until she was ready to move out at the end of the month. It turns out that she has options and will be moving out either the 15th or 16th. BLESS HER. She is so kind.

I think God knew that I wasn't doing so well on my own. Once again I've been proven wrong - I was so excited about having the house all to myself for a month, but when it actually happened it was really sad and lonely. I guess I am a people person after all.

If anyone wants to hang out and have beverages while I pack, I am going to need some major motivation. I hate packing worse than watching the western channel at my parent's house.

like tying jello with a string

Some people say that life throws curve balls. Tonight, I feel like I'm taking them to the face.

I just emailed a friend who had asked how I was. Sometimes its not until you sit down to really answer that question that you realize how you are. I found myself nearly in tears after I sent the email, partly because I feel overwhelmed, but mostly because I can't really describe why I feel that way. There is so much that is contributing to the feeling that I can't identify what is pressing on me most. Having a crazy work schedule? Taking on an additional job? Starting school again? Trying to navigate financial aid? Being poor and worrying about money all the time? Moving? Possibly moving before the middle of next week? Trying to lose weight and failing miserably? Being lonely? Being so scattered that I feel like the relationships that are important to me are falling through the cracks? YES.

I know that there are people who have problems much larger than mine, and I feel like I have no right to whine about my minuscule tribulations. But sometimes small things pile up and meld into one big thing, which, if ignored for any period of time, begins to swell and ooze ... and before long you're standing in it's remains wondering what happened and who is going to clean up the mess. I can't handle that mess. Not tonight, anyway.

i have never said the f-word more in my life

At 6:00 this morning, I was awakened by an annoyingly persistent beeping in my hallway. It was the sound of a dying smoke detector, a problem that I'd had a couple of times in my last apartment. I drug myself out of bed and groggily made my way to the source of the noise, hoisted my tired body up onto a chair, and removed the batteries from the detector. Just as I was almost back in the bed, it came again - BEEP!

Assuming that I needed to replace the batteries, I began rummaging through drawers looking for nine-volts, which, of course, were not to be found. I put on some mismatched clothing, pinned back my bangs which had turned into a bird's nest overnight, and drove to Walmart - the closest store open at 6:00 am.

Batteries in hand, I climbed back onto the chair and inserted them into their proper places. BEEP! Getting angrier and angrier by the minute, I called my dad who is a purveyor of electrical supplies and knows quite a bit about these things. He recommended that I buy some compressed air to clean the dust out of the device and suggested that I could have bought bad batteries. Dang it. Back in the car, I went to CVS - it didn't open for an hour. I tried the Piggly Wiggly next door and had no luck. Resigned to take care of the problem and not sit in the house any longer with the maddening beep, I waited in my car until CVS opened, finally located another set of batteries ($6) and a can of air ($10). Armed with what I thought were the tools for my success, I returned home.

On the chair again, I dusted the detector and put in the second set of batteries. BEEP! What?! Deciding that maybe my dad was wrong, I consulted the internet, which was no help. By this time I had removed the smoke detector and was holding it in my hand. The beep continued, but now it didn't seem to be coming from the smoke detector, but still from the hallway.

I walked back into the hallway, and the beeping, indeed, came closer ...

It was the carbon monoxide detector. Which takes AA batteries.

F*@#.

Yep ... Another Blog

From 2/3 of the ladies who brought you Triathablog, comes ...

Recession Diet: The Economy is Shrinking, Why Shouldn't We?

Read it, love it, learn from it, comment on it so we feel good about ourselves. Because we're fat, and we don't have boyfriends.

Jo Ann

Fifty-five years they slept in the same bed,
Sometimes tenderly, sometimes in the silence of backs turned.
The dawn always brought a familiar day,
Roles anticipated, always played with diligence.

She knew the home, and he the world,
His stomach never empty, her pocket never quite full.
She lovingly raised their two sons,
Tended to their humble house on a quiet street.

She never tired of her chores,
Never complained of the lot given her.
Loved, gave, and sacrificed,
To her sons' generation and the next.

Time etched their features,
Sickness cruelly weakened her frame.
One last time she affirmed her love,
And was ready to go Home.

Face in his trembling hands, he sobs softly,
Tears shine in eyes that look back, expressionless.
Years of love so insufficiently articulated,
Now spoken without voice.

Abandoned in a home once shared,
He shuffles from the chair to the bed,
Turns down the bedclothes on her side,
And drifts to a fitful sleep.

ill-advised

Dear "Academic Adviser":

Below are some helpful hints to remember while in an academic advising session:

1. Know more about your programs than the prospective student.
2. Know the names of your fellow professors, and what they do within the department.
3. Know the dates when students may register for classes.
4. Do not refer the student to other advisers because you can not answer his or her questions. There is a reason why you were selected as the adviser - so, advise.
5. Do not spend more time in an advising session talking about how you got your book published than about the student's classes.
6. Do not say anything like, "I advise during the day so I can write what I want to publish at night." It gives the impression that you're neither interested in your job, nor the student's future in your program.

Also, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to have the money back that I had to pay the meter for parking. The visit wasn't really worth my thirty-five cents, especially since I had to pay another meter at the place I went to actually get some questions answered.

Oh, and buy some longer pants.

Sincerely,
Amanda

glorious off-day

Today is my day off. Being off on a Wednesday is so weird to me still - it is the middle of the week and I'm in my bed fighting a nap, the exercise clothes I've been wearing all day still haven't been put to good use, and yesterday's laundry is crumpled in my floor begging to be folded. Shut your mouth, laundry - I'm tired.

I can't decide if I like having this life right now. It isn't bad, but it isn't necessarily good either. I am, and have always been, a habitual type of person. I like predictability, and it doesn't exist in my world anymore. I was comfortable in my eight to five schedule - I slept and woke at the same time every day, I sat down for eight hours and didn't have aching legs at the end of the day, I had enough energy to go to the gym after work. But I also do not have to go to that wretched job, stare at a computer all day, do mind-numbing work, and deal with people who think much too highly of their own opinions (well, there is still some of that - I do work in Mountain Brook). It is hard to tell if I like life right now. I suppose it will take time to adjust to the chaos.

I have been taking quite a few babysitting jobs recently, as my new motto is "Never Turn Down Income." For those of you who have known me for more than two years, this might be somewhat laughable. A few years back, I would have never been babysitting, much less taking a nannying job (starting this summer). There came a point in my life, somewhere around the age of 26, where I suddenly loved children and dogs. Call it a change of heart, or call it a biological clock - whatever it is, it is weird. But as much as I love them, it worries me a little when I am with them because I am always, always ready for their parents to come home. It makes me wonder if I will be a bad parent ... if I should rethink what I want for my future. Today the mom that I sat for told me that she didn't love children until she had her own - that was reassuring. I guess I just can't fathom love like that - love that gives everything for that tiny little person. That nurtures and corrects and feeds and disciplines and hugs and teaches and wipes their poopy little butts all day. I hope that I can become that person.