While searching for new potential homes, I found an apartment complex that I just fell in love with. Perfect location, right next to the Zoo, beautiful views of Rock Creek Park, next to a lovely neighborhood with perfect little shops, and minutes from the metro. Still a studio, but much bigger and with nice nooks for the bed, which is almost like a one-bedroom. It's just perfect. I've taken to calling it the magic apartment. I bet the roof doesn't have holes in it.
I'm already planning paint colors and playing around with furniture placement. Never mind that I have no idea if there are any vacancies or if there were, if we would even be approved. I'm almost scared to ruin the illusion by actually calling (I sent an e-mail to their generic address, but that may never get a response). I just so don't want to be here anymore, and I don't want to risk the dream of elsewhere, even if it is just a fantasy.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Happy Birthday to the Zach
Zach turned 27 today. You know how when you are a kid, everyone seems so old, and 20 may as well be 30, which is close to death? From my youngin' perspective (I'm 4 years younger than Zach), 27 seems awfuly close to 30, which does kind of make me go whoa. But, still we celebrated.
We celebrated by gallivanting all over the Nat'l Zoo, where we got to look at sleeping animals and get horribly hot and sweaty. It's the funny thing about being happy - objectively, it was kind of a zoo failure. Really hot, really humid and of the half of the animals we could find, about half of them were asleep. (Which is why the picture for this post is a stone lion.) Well, most were asleep, with the exception of the lions, who were cuddling, and then, well, doing more than cuddling. Which was fun, mostly because the reactions of all the parents were kind of hilarious. But, while the actually stuff was kind of a miss, we were to happy to be out and about, spending some good time together to really care.
Also, we had some really good Thai food.
But mostly just the joy of us. I'm glad you're around Zach. You make even the hottest and humidiest of days not just bearable, but enjoyable. Happy Birthday.
We celebrated by gallivanting all over the Nat'l Zoo, where we got to look at sleeping animals and get horribly hot and sweaty. It's the funny thing about being happy - objectively, it was kind of a zoo failure. Really hot, really humid and of the half of the animals we could find, about half of them were asleep. (Which is why the picture for this post is a stone lion.) Well, most were asleep, with the exception of the lions, who were cuddling, and then, well, doing more than cuddling. Which was fun, mostly because the reactions of all the parents were kind of hilarious. But, while the actually stuff was kind of a miss, we were to happy to be out and about, spending some good time together to really care.
Also, we had some really good Thai food.
But mostly just the joy of us. I'm glad you're around Zach. You make even the hottest and humidiest of days not just bearable, but enjoyable. Happy Birthday.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Looking beyound the shoebox
With the giant hole in the ceiling still not fixed, and warnings of another power outage next week, I've been scouring apartment ads on Craigslist lately. Even though almost everything looks better than where we are now, I kind of expect a place to be amazing to be worth the hassle of moving. Sure, the shoebox is the shoebox, but it requires no special effort to live here beyond paying rent. I'm familiar with the neighborhood. There's a lot to be said for that. Also, it seem silly to move not knowing where (or if) I'll be working next year. But, they also seem to raise the rent by $100 every year, just because they can, and most people are too lazy to move in protest. For an extra hundred, I'd rather be someplace not here. So casually looking around seems like a nice option. No commitments, but if we get swept off our real estate feet, I'm open to a new relationship.
On that note, what are your thoughts on basement apartments? Some of them seem quite nice. I like the idea of being in a real house, not an apartment building. But on the other hand, I wonder if being that close to your landlord might be a little awkward. I'm not nuts about the management here, but at least they aren't also my upstairs neighbors. When my neighbors annoy me or visa versa, no one has the power to kick me out, or punitively refuse to fix things. I like the looks and price of so many basement apartments, but they make me nervous. Any experiences?
On that note, what are your thoughts on basement apartments? Some of them seem quite nice. I like the idea of being in a real house, not an apartment building. But on the other hand, I wonder if being that close to your landlord might be a little awkward. I'm not nuts about the management here, but at least they aren't also my upstairs neighbors. When my neighbors annoy me or visa versa, no one has the power to kick me out, or punitively refuse to fix things. I like the looks and price of so many basement apartments, but they make me nervous. Any experiences?
Friday, June 4, 2010
Friday Favorites
1. Rainbow flip-flops. I know that I'll look so much more put together in slightly nicer sandals, but in this heat, its nice for at least on part of me (feet) to be comfortable.
2. Sarah Dunant Novels (Birth Of Venus, Company of the Courtesan, Sacred Hearts) Books of women, passion, life all in a Renaissance background, with ample focus on the arts, by an actual historian who weaves in every little detail perfectly. I'm just eating these up.
3. Speaking of actually eating up, Lemon and Raspberry Gelato. So good. Like a fresh raspberry lemonade, sweet and tangy and perfect. Or just any fruit at all. Ooo, and dried mangoes. Between fresh produce and it being too hot to cook, I eat so much better in the summer.
4. Oddly enough, today I've been digging Britney Spears. Sure, she can't really sing, but in some ways that makes singing and dancing along all the more enjoyable. If I could only erase the memory of my high school dance class routine to "I'm A Slave 4 U."
5. Dreams of Hawaii and a white, sandy beach. (Apparently Hawaii Air is doing a $330 round trip special. Ahh, if only)
6. This swim suit. Want. So much. If only I ever went to the water.
2. Sarah Dunant Novels (Birth Of Venus, Company of the Courtesan, Sacred Hearts) Books of women, passion, life all in a Renaissance background, with ample focus on the arts, by an actual historian who weaves in every little detail perfectly. I'm just eating these up.
3. Speaking of actually eating up, Lemon and Raspberry Gelato. So good. Like a fresh raspberry lemonade, sweet and tangy and perfect. Or just any fruit at all. Ooo, and dried mangoes. Between fresh produce and it being too hot to cook, I eat so much better in the summer.
4. Oddly enough, today I've been digging Britney Spears. Sure, she can't really sing, but in some ways that makes singing and dancing along all the more enjoyable. If I could only erase the memory of my high school dance class routine to "I'm A Slave 4 U."
5. Dreams of Hawaii and a white, sandy beach. (Apparently Hawaii Air is doing a $330 round trip special. Ahh, if only)
6. This swim suit. Want. So much. If only I ever went to the water.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Pathetically Tired
I am so pathetically tired. As in, have no real excuse to be, and yet can still barely stand up.
Needing sleep isn't pathetic. I recognize that some super humans claim to be fine with just a few hours, bit I think they lie. I can't imagine functioning with less than a norm of 8. I can do less, but not consistently. I need my sleep, love it, crave it. And I use the best of my student powers to ensure that I get it. Law school is hard and time consuming, but it does have flexible scheduling, especially now that I can plan all of my own classes.I've sucked it up and done classes at 10 am or even (gasp!) 9 am. But generally I try to get some good sleep time in my schedule. And then after finals, which suck in many ways, but are even more free flowing schedule wise, and then vacation. Well, I haven't gotten up before 9 am since the middle of April.
Until now. I haven't even had to get up all that crazy early. Today I had to be at the courthouse downtown at 9 am - you know, the normal time people go to work. I didn't even need to stay long, I was home by 1pm.
By 4 in the afternoon I was barely conscious. I kind of waddled over to the bed after requesting an "apple' from Zach and being very frustrated that he didn't understand that I was asking him to play some soft music on the i-pod as opposed to bringing me fruit. I crashed hard, and only got up at 6 because Zach cajoled me to. I'm already tired again. This after all of three strenuous hours of watching court hearings and taking a brief tour.
The real world is going to eat me alive.
Needing sleep isn't pathetic. I recognize that some super humans claim to be fine with just a few hours, bit I think they lie. I can't imagine functioning with less than a norm of 8. I can do less, but not consistently. I need my sleep, love it, crave it. And I use the best of my student powers to ensure that I get it. Law school is hard and time consuming, but it does have flexible scheduling, especially now that I can plan all of my own classes.I've sucked it up and done classes at 10 am or even (gasp!) 9 am. But generally I try to get some good sleep time in my schedule. And then after finals, which suck in many ways, but are even more free flowing schedule wise, and then vacation. Well, I haven't gotten up before 9 am since the middle of April.
Until now. I haven't even had to get up all that crazy early. Today I had to be at the courthouse downtown at 9 am - you know, the normal time people go to work. I didn't even need to stay long, I was home by 1pm.
By 4 in the afternoon I was barely conscious. I kind of waddled over to the bed after requesting an "apple' from Zach and being very frustrated that he didn't understand that I was asking him to play some soft music on the i-pod as opposed to bringing me fruit. I crashed hard, and only got up at 6 because Zach cajoled me to. I'm already tired again. This after all of three strenuous hours of watching court hearings and taking a brief tour.
The real world is going to eat me alive.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Get Loose
Well, my new job started today. On one hand, the part of me who likes nice, neat orderly routines is twitching. I still have no idea what I'm going to be doing each and every day, or even what my schedule will be. I think that being told that things are kind of relaxed, and just do whatever works was meant to be comforting.I'm wondering how anyone in the severe Type A atmosphere could possibly think that would be comforting. I consider myself relaxed and free flowing - for a law student anyways. But the thought of no routine, no consistency, no idea what to expect sends chills down my spine.
On the other hand, I came in at 10am today and was home by 3:30, because that's just when we were done. I may learn to like this looseness.
On the other hand, I came in at 10am today and was home by 3:30, because that's just when we were done. I may learn to like this looseness.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
My 1950's reverso marriage
Sometimes I think I am quite possibly the laziest person alive. And a lousy spouse to boot.
I remember long before I got married I would see all these women who did all the housework, all day, everyday, while their husbands got to go to work, come home and relax. I remember all the lessons, implied and explicit, about how important it was for girls to be good homemakers. To cook and clean and care. I didn't want any of that. I swore that when I got married, we were going to straight up equals, neither of us enslaved to household drudgery (I'm sure it can have its rewards and positive attitude. But come on, cleaning sucks. It's necessary, but it sucks). There was no way I was going to be in such an anachronistic relationship.
Ha. I'm as bad as a vintage '50's husband. Well, minus the affairs and plus the whole talking about feelings thing. But housework wise? I suck. I clean the bathroom. In theory once a week, in reality... well, I've wiped down the worst of it recently, but actually cleaning? I can't remember. I also clean up some clutter and sweep and vacuum the main room. But all that, even on a good week is probably only a little more than an hour. I cook sometimes, but it isn't the norm.
Zach, on the other hand, does dishes, everyday. Which, what with no dishwasher, is substantial. Hell, he does everything in the kitchen, from cleaning out the fridge, to mopping the floor, to cleaning the stove. Everything. And all the laundry (that is largely because he is cheaper than me, and likes to air dry everything and then put it all into the dryer, for 10 minutes each bunch to get rid of the crunchyness). And most of the cooking. And some other stuff.
Yah. Technically, he is in class less hours a week than me (and over the summer, with me working and him in school, he will likely have more time) but generally our workloads are similar. This is just a result of me sucking. There really isn't that great of an explanation. I just get caught up in whatever I'm doing, sink into my relaxing nothingness and then pow! Next thing I know its bedtime. Or worse, I realize what needs doing and just don't wanna. So I don't. And he does.
I do try to be better. Sometimes. And I am, for a while, until I get super busy and it's ok to not do all that, he'll take care of it, after all we are partners, we help one another out. Until suddenly I'm not busy, and we sure aren't acting like partners anymore.
It's a horrible habit. It's not good for him, for us, or even for me. Like so many habits it's so good, so easy, so hard to fight. So here I am, at the end of a long day, where my big accomplishments include taking a shower and getting my hiring paperwork filled. Meanwhile, the kitchen in sparkling, I've been fed, fresh laundry is drying. It's fairly pleasant in the shoebox, or it would be, if everything didn't silently condemn me. And yet here I sit, blogging not doing, again.
I remember long before I got married I would see all these women who did all the housework, all day, everyday, while their husbands got to go to work, come home and relax. I remember all the lessons, implied and explicit, about how important it was for girls to be good homemakers. To cook and clean and care. I didn't want any of that. I swore that when I got married, we were going to straight up equals, neither of us enslaved to household drudgery (I'm sure it can have its rewards and positive attitude. But come on, cleaning sucks. It's necessary, but it sucks). There was no way I was going to be in such an anachronistic relationship.
Ha. I'm as bad as a vintage '50's husband. Well, minus the affairs and plus the whole talking about feelings thing. But housework wise? I suck. I clean the bathroom. In theory once a week, in reality... well, I've wiped down the worst of it recently, but actually cleaning? I can't remember. I also clean up some clutter and sweep and vacuum the main room. But all that, even on a good week is probably only a little more than an hour. I cook sometimes, but it isn't the norm.
Zach, on the other hand, does dishes, everyday. Which, what with no dishwasher, is substantial. Hell, he does everything in the kitchen, from cleaning out the fridge, to mopping the floor, to cleaning the stove. Everything. And all the laundry (that is largely because he is cheaper than me, and likes to air dry everything and then put it all into the dryer, for 10 minutes each bunch to get rid of the crunchyness). And most of the cooking. And some other stuff.
Yah. Technically, he is in class less hours a week than me (and over the summer, with me working and him in school, he will likely have more time) but generally our workloads are similar. This is just a result of me sucking. There really isn't that great of an explanation. I just get caught up in whatever I'm doing, sink into my relaxing nothingness and then pow! Next thing I know its bedtime. Or worse, I realize what needs doing and just don't wanna. So I don't. And he does.
I do try to be better. Sometimes. And I am, for a while, until I get super busy and it's ok to not do all that, he'll take care of it, after all we are partners, we help one another out. Until suddenly I'm not busy, and we sure aren't acting like partners anymore.
It's a horrible habit. It's not good for him, for us, or even for me. Like so many habits it's so good, so easy, so hard to fight. So here I am, at the end of a long day, where my big accomplishments include taking a shower and getting my hiring paperwork filled. Meanwhile, the kitchen in sparkling, I've been fed, fresh laundry is drying. It's fairly pleasant in the shoebox, or it would be, if everything didn't silently condemn me. And yet here I sit, blogging not doing, again.
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