A few days ago, Andy’s brother moved into the Morningside dorms. Since Dan is still under his parents’ insurance and Andy is not (because he’s not in school and because he’s married) we switched cars. And my heart is broken, because I loved that sweet orange little Reno. I loved the great gas mileage, the audio cable for plugging your iPod right into the stereo, being able to find it in a parking lot. I loved the feeling I got driving it. I loved the security of knowing that if a smaller person got in the passenger seat, it automatically turned off the airbags. (On good days, weight-wise, I loved sitting down and the airbag turning off because I didn’t weigh enough). I loved that Punk’s carrier fit securely between the back of the front seat and the front of the backseat. And I loved knowing that there were the “tie-in harnesses” for extra security when you put a child seat in the back.
But, as Andy’s dad put it, it would cost “exorbitant amounts of money*” to keep it insured for us to keep. (And I am hurt that we’ve been making payments for it to Andy’s mom whenever we could, while trying to plan and pay for a wedding and life in general {and it’s not the cost that bothers me...} and I can’t imagine that they’ll make Dan pay anything for it)
The plan I originally heard, back in May when this came up, was that we would switch and we would take the Vibe and Andy’s mom would keep the Reno. Which sucked, a lot, but the Vibe gets good mileage and (once we got the stench of defeat out) was overall, a pretty ok car. Then the plan changed.
So we switched to the car Dan had been driving for the summer. To a 1997 Chrysler Town and Country van. I’m 22 and I feel like a soccer mom….Except without the security or the kids. But I guess I’ll never get pulled over for suspicion of drugs or something right? (yeah, cuz that was such a problem for me…)
And the very best thing of all? Andy’s dad, in his supreme talent for making every situation worse, telling Andy (in front of me, of course… like I don’t hate the entire deal in the first place already) to make sure to get it insured because “you know the first time you hit something, it’s gonna explode and all we’ll ever see of you again will be pieces.**”
*Side note: that is the most “Englishy” thing {read: biggest words} I’ve ever heard Andy’s dad say, even though he went to school {for seven years!!} for an English degree {which he never got}
** Well that's just great, cuz then I can be either dead or widowed and vehicle-less! .... and possibly the owner of a dead cat... or the parent to a dead child. Best. Car. Ever.
fmfl.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Thursday, August 13, 2009
side note
One other thing.... why does google STILL think I'm in mountain time zone? I've fixed that like 12 times and it still says I posted that last note at 7:52. It's now 10 am here and it thinks it's like 8 or something. annoying.
testing... testing... 1... 2... phooey.
Soooo... Yesterday I installed Google Analytics on here. At least, I thought I did. Turns out I did it wrong. Who knew finding out how many people read my stuff and how many people look at the photos and what google searches brought them to my page would be so hard? Meh. Anyway, I ust wanted to tell you that so I could add the code to this page and see if it works. If not, I'll have to make Andy work on it. Phooey. More to come on my life in general in a while... I have essentially nothing else to do at work today....
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
The one where I catch a fungus*
I have 16 1/2 days until my term of service with AmeriCorps ends. Because I have housing through the program, that means I had to find new housing. What a terror. You in the mood for a good scary story? I promise it has a happy ending.
We started off over in Ingleside. Or some weird place like that. Whatever. The lady told us to park at the Mexican bakery next door. Is that a good sign? Guessing not... We got there to find a house with paint peeling off the siding, ripped off doors and water standing by the foundation. Hmmmmmmm, looks positive, no? The lady wasn't where she said she would be, but we eventually found her. It turns out she had 3 places in that building empty that she could show us. She kept saying "this just needs a little cleaning" at every apartment. Seriously? One apartment's tenant had left HIS BED behind and there was still porn on the floor as she showed us the apartment. Are you kidding me? There were about a million Q-tips on the floor, GOD ONLY KNOWS what he did with all of those. Sheesh.
She also mentioned she had an apartment in a duplex opening up later that week over on Nebraska Street. That seemed like a little better of a place, both for safety and for jobs ( for me). So we drove past to see what the area looked like. It looked like a nicer place, a slightly better neighborhood, the building looked more structurally sound. The only outwardly visible problem were the (approximately) 47 Hispanic people standing on the front porch. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not racist, but Andy and I kind of got the feeling that we would end up being resented at a place like this because someone had wanted their aunt or their cousin or friend or someone, whomever, to move in there. Granted, I would have gotten to practice my Spanish but I don't know how much I would learn if all I translated was them cursing at my family for taking that house.
That place wouldn't be open til the end of the week, at the earliest, so we decided we should keep looking, just in case. We looked all through CraigsList and the classifieds and various other manners. Andy came upon an ad for a rental agency with several openings. So we went to check them out. This is where things get... moist.
We went to the first place. The neighbors had all the windows plastered with signs for a Laotian Grocery. As we walked across the porch and into the apartment and I could feel the floor moving. When she opened the door, I couldn't even see the kitchen because the kitchen in the "large efficiency" fit BEHIND the door. I walked further in, amazed that they had the nerve to call something this size, smaller than any of my dorm rooms, an apartment. If we put our futon in there, and laid it down, you would have to crawl over it to get into the bathroom. Then I looked up. And a 2 square foot of the ceiling above my was bulging and covered in green mold. Needless to say, I stepped back quickly and tried to hurry the PREGNANT woman showing us the apartment out before we all died. Because I was looking up, I didn't notice what Andy did. He looked down and noticed mushrooms growing on the carpet. That apartment was obviously just FULL of WIN! (and by "win" I obviously mean "spores").
After hurrying our asses out of there and breathing deeply into the (hopefully) clean and air, we went back to the rental office where they showed us the apartment UNDER the office. The walls were light pink... and the pipes and ducts were fuchsia. NO JOKE. It looked like that scene in Dumbo where Dumbo gets drunk and hallucinates Pink elephants everywhere. Just looking at all the colors was enough to give you a headache or make you think you were tripping. Of course, they ALMOST served a purpose, since I was so busy gaping at the walls that I barely noticed the exposed wiring. Beautiful.
After that, Andy and I decided we had better raise our price range a little. What we originally were willing to pay would have been fine if it were just us. But this little ball of love
kind of makes those options a bit pricier.
So we looked at the next range. Woodbury Heights was in the back of our minds but they didn't have an openings until September 1st and that would make things difficult. Somehow we ended up at Glen Oaks. And it's beautiful. But we were torn. It was higher than we were sure we could afford and a looooong way from our current lives (hey shut up, 10 miles is a lot in the city!) but somehow, God and Ceiling Cat must have been smiling (and purring) on us because we worked out a way to live there and they approved us!
And this is where things get amazing:
Told you it was a happy ending :)
*bonus points to whomever can figure out what sitcom I am referencing in the title.
--Oh, and the fungus part is a joke from the fact that Andy and I both caught colds after visiting moldy apartments. At least, I hope it's a joke. It is taking me a long time to kick this cold....
We started off over in Ingleside. Or some weird place like that. Whatever. The lady told us to park at the Mexican bakery next door. Is that a good sign? Guessing not... We got there to find a house with paint peeling off the siding, ripped off doors and water standing by the foundation. Hmmmmmmm, looks positive, no? The lady wasn't where she said she would be, but we eventually found her. It turns out she had 3 places in that building empty that she could show us. She kept saying "this just needs a little cleaning" at every apartment. Seriously? One apartment's tenant had left HIS BED behind and there was still porn on the floor as she showed us the apartment. Are you kidding me? There were about a million Q-tips on the floor, GOD ONLY KNOWS what he did with all of those. Sheesh.
She also mentioned she had an apartment in a duplex opening up later that week over on Nebraska Street. That seemed like a little better of a place, both for safety and for jobs ( for me). So we drove past to see what the area looked like. It looked like a nicer place, a slightly better neighborhood, the building looked more structurally sound. The only outwardly visible problem were the (approximately) 47 Hispanic people standing on the front porch. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not racist, but Andy and I kind of got the feeling that we would end up being resented at a place like this because someone had wanted their aunt or their cousin or friend or someone, whomever, to move in there. Granted, I would have gotten to practice my Spanish but I don't know how much I would learn if all I translated was them cursing at my family for taking that house.
That place wouldn't be open til the end of the week, at the earliest, so we decided we should keep looking, just in case. We looked all through CraigsList and the classifieds and various other manners. Andy came upon an ad for a rental agency with several openings. So we went to check them out. This is where things get... moist.
We went to the first place. The neighbors had all the windows plastered with signs for a Laotian Grocery. As we walked across the porch and into the apartment and I could feel the floor moving. When she opened the door, I couldn't even see the kitchen because the kitchen in the "large efficiency" fit BEHIND the door. I walked further in, amazed that they had the nerve to call something this size, smaller than any of my dorm rooms, an apartment. If we put our futon in there, and laid it down, you would have to crawl over it to get into the bathroom. Then I looked up. And a 2 square foot of the ceiling above my was bulging and covered in green mold. Needless to say, I stepped back quickly and tried to hurry the PREGNANT woman showing us the apartment out before we all died. Because I was looking up, I didn't notice what Andy did. He looked down and noticed mushrooms growing on the carpet. That apartment was obviously just FULL of WIN! (and by "win" I obviously mean "spores").
After hurrying our asses out of there and breathing deeply into the (hopefully) clean and air, we went back to the rental office where they showed us the apartment UNDER the office. The walls were light pink... and the pipes and ducts were fuchsia. NO JOKE. It looked like that scene in Dumbo where Dumbo gets drunk and hallucinates Pink elephants everywhere. Just looking at all the colors was enough to give you a headache or make you think you were tripping. Of course, they ALMOST served a purpose, since I was so busy gaping at the walls that I barely noticed the exposed wiring. Beautiful.
After that, Andy and I decided we had better raise our price range a little. What we originally were willing to pay would have been fine if it were just us. But this little ball of love
kind of makes those options a bit pricier.
So we looked at the next range. Woodbury Heights was in the back of our minds but they didn't have an openings until September 1st and that would make things difficult. Somehow we ended up at Glen Oaks. And it's beautiful. But we were torn. It was higher than we were sure we could afford and a looooong way from our current lives (hey shut up, 10 miles is a lot in the city!) but somehow, God and Ceiling Cat must have been smiling (and purring) on us because we worked out a way to live there and they approved us!
And this is where things get amazing:
Told you it was a happy ending :)
*bonus points to whomever can figure out what sitcom I am referencing in the title.
--Oh, and the fungus part is a joke from the fact that Andy and I both caught colds after visiting moldy apartments. At least, I hope it's a joke. It is taking me a long time to kick this cold....
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