And the Apartment Goes to...

As promised, here is the story of vending my apartment via craigslist.

A few weeks ago I posted a glowing description of my apartment on craigslist, highlighting its spacious kitchen and ever-coveted in-unit washer, dryer, dishwasher combo. I included the following photos.


Seriously, who wouldn't want to live here?

The catch (there is always a catch) is that my lease is up May 27th. Which means, that the only people who would reasonably take over my lease are non students, needing a very temporary home, or someone looking for a long-term place that doesn't mind moving in without a management company cleaning inspection and a carpet steam.

I got two hits, Girl #1 and Girl #2. They came to see the apartment an hour apart on the same night. Callie was there for dinner, moral support and safety considerations.

They had strikingly similar stories. They were both undergrads, fairly new to the city, who wanted to move in with their currently long-distance boyfriends. When it comes to potential take-over-my-lease people, I try not to judge. But to give you the flavor of things here are two quotes from the night, unfairly taken completely out of context.

Girl #1: "We have only been together for six months, so I definitely want him to sign the lease. You know, just in case."

Girl #2: "He would be the only one on the lease since he is working right now [in Bremerton]. He doesn't really want to move up here until he finds a job. I just need to pressure him a little."

When they left, Callie said her first thought was "Are you sure that's a good idea?" In any other circumstances, I that would have been my first thought too. Instead, since they were potential leasees, the first thing that jumped in my head was "Sweetheart, you do what you need to do."

Lucky for me, Girl #2's persuasive powers proved too much for her boyfriend's convictions. On Friday, a wide-eyed boyfriend signed his name to my lease, making him legally responsible for coming up with full rent at the beginning of each month.

He looked so overwhelmed I almost felt bad. Right before he signed I tried to slow things down for him a little, to make sure he knew what he was doing. I confirmed the move-in date and the amount he would owe me for pro-rated rent and the deposit. He nodded and signed.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't totally thrilled to have the apartment off my hands (and my expense sheet). I hope everything works out for those two love birds.

Girl #2 and boyfriend, see you on March 18.

Best of luck.

Adventure Wednesday

Today Jamie and I went on an adventure.

This was exciting for a variety of reasons. First of all, a mid-week adventure is a rare occurrence and I think it is safe to say we both procrastinated many a to-do list item to make it happen. Also, it was an absolutely gorgeous day and it felt good to take advantage of it, rather than waste it hunched over a computer doing TA work.

We started out in Fairhaven and eventually our wanderings took us to Boulevard Park and back. In celebration of finally figuring out how to put pictures side-by-side I am going to let the them tell the story




Oh yeah, and our outing ended with a trip to Haggen (hence the juice aisle picture).

With all the craigslisting of apartments and the packing I have been thinking a lot about how little time I have left before moving. I have loved living in Bellingham and there are lots of places I would like the chance to revisit before I make the final push south. Here's to hoping I can fit them all in between the packing, apartment viewings and the everyday school nonsense.

Packing up

Last weekend my mom and my grandma came to visit. First, we took advantage of the beautiful weather and hit up the Marina and Lake Padden.

And then we got to work.

This bookshelf...

and this desk...

used to hold this stuff.


At the end of the weekend, mom and grandma drove south with all the bags pictured above, plus the desk, some stuff from under my bed, three chairs and a christmas tree stand.

Did I mention I am moving?

In a little over a month I am moving 273 miles south back to my hometown for the last part of my grad program, a ten-week intership. I have conflicting feelings about leaving. I have loved living in Bellingham for a variety of reasons and there are lots of people/places I will miss dearly. On the other hand, I am ready to put some serious mileage between me and WWU.

Right now the trickiest part of moving is trying to keep my place looking halfway decent while I try to peddle my apartment on craigslist. I had to do a little rearranging with the newly vacant bookshelf.

Vending apartments on craigslist has been a whole different adventure, but that is a blog post for another day.

A Bad Case of the Sundays

"Let me ask you something. When you come in on Monday and you're not feeling real well, does anyone ever say to you, "Sounds like someone has a case of the Mondays?"

~Peter Gibbons, Office Space~

I am going to throw something out in the universe and I would like to know what you think.

My sense is that if you ask people what their least favorite day of the week is, they won't skip a beat before throwing out "Monday," and with good reason. If you are like most people, I bet you spend the weekend staying out late, sleeping in and generally having a great time shirking responsibility...then Monday comes along like a freight train and ruins it all.

So yeah, I get why people don't like Mondays.

But I would venture to say that nothing is worse than that Sunday-night-feeling. You know the one. That feeling you get in your stomach just after the sun goes down on Sunday night when you look back at your weekend and realize that you didn't accomplish a good half of the things you were supposed to.

I can say with complete confidence that in my life, dreading Monday feels significantly worse than living Monday.

I think it's seeing the whole week stretch out before me that does me in. It tempts me to pull out my master calendar, the one that manages to represent the whole term on one page. Suddenly, Winter Term looks infinitely longer than it did on Friday.
I am never less optimistic than on Sunday nights.

Are you with me on this one? What day finds you at your least optimistic?

Note: I had a mandatory class yesterday (Saturday) from 9am to 5pm and something about an extended school week has resulted in a particularly bad case of the Sundays tonight. Just FYI.

Good Intentions for 2011: Stage I

This post is intended to be a follow-up on my year-long plan for self-reinvention. So you should check out that post first if you haven't already.

To business.

The following are my good intentions (doesn't that sound nicer than resolutions?) for incorporating all the stages of self-reinvention into the first stage (i.e. look better). The idea here being that each stage has one core principle that I focus on (and hold myself the most accountable for) and then smaller goals intended as a sort of warm-up for the following stages. Ok, here goes.

1. Eat more vegetables
2. Exercise at least twice a week (sadly yes, even this pathetic amount is goal-worthy)
3. Work on Rosetta Stone Spanish for at least an hour every week
4. Take notes for classes and write To-Do/grocery lists with my left-hand (Kristi 2.0 will be ambidextrous)
5. Have more television skype dates with Peter
6. Sign up for Italian conversation class at the community college and attend weekly
7. Go on an adventure with Jamie every weekend

You will note that goals 3-7 are all in preparation for the live better stage because when I assessed my life, that was the area in which I wanted to see the most overall improvement.

In case you were curious, this is a sample of my left-handed writing as of a few weeks ago.


P.S. This a really good sugar cookie recipe.

Happy New Year!!

Okay, I realize that I am nine days late on this new year resolutions thing but it took me a while to formulate my goals for 2011 and pare them down into something realistic (at least I hope it is realistic).

In an effort to build healthy, lasting habits that don't get thrown out the window by President's Day I like to pick one general health focus a year. As an incentive, the past two years I have picked things that involve me splurging on new products to help motivate me to maintain my goal.

2009 was the year of dental hygiene. I bought a new sonicare electric toothbrush, new dental floss and anti-cavity mouthwash. I vowed to brush my teeth twice daily (which I was already doing but with a far inferior toothbrush,) floss every night and rinse daily with anti-cavity mouthwash.

2010 was the year of skin care. Let's been real, I don't want (nor could I ever afford to have) plastic surgery so I figured if I wanted to look young forever I should stop tanning and start noticing my skin. I invested in Clinque facewash, toner, lotion and sunscreen.

This has worked well for me. The thing about my resolutions is that they are intended to be cumulative. You see, just because 2010 was about skin doesn't mean I was allowed to stop flossing or brushing my teeth. And that's the whole idea, self-improvement achieved by building good habits incrementally overtime.

***

This year I was having trouble selecting a focus. I think it was mostly because 2011 is going to bring so many changes to my life. One of which being that for the first time in as long as I can remember I won't be a student anymore. I will have my nights and weekends all to myself and I will experience my first whole summer season sans coursework since 2006. In September, people will pay me (!?!?!?!?!?) to provide speech-language therapy. No more indentured servitude, they will pay me with money.

On the cusp of so many changes can you see how I couldn't possibly rein my ambitions into just one objective? So, even though I devised my previous resolution system with good reason (i.e. smaller more focused goals are easier to be accountable for, achieve and maintain) I am thinking bigger this year.

In 2011....

I am going to be Kristi 2.0*
[photo courtesy of Tish]

*Note: if you are not familiar with this reference you should read this post for clarification

Or at least I will be by the time 2012 rolls around. You see in this year of many changes I am speeding up the time frame in which I improve myself. Remember, the overall effect is cumulative (and in this case, works forward and backward, to a certain degree.)

Stage 1: Look better. [Initiated on the first day of Winter Quarter]
You may recall one of the original premises for Kristi 2.0 was to be better groomed. This may sound ridiculous but if I am going to be out applying for jobs (or even just being responsible for the ongoing treatment of people's loved ones in the university clinic) I need to look like someone who has their s!@t together. For me this means getting over my fear of spending money, buying some new clothes (and throwing away my khakis from junior year of high school) and waking up early enough to blow dry my hair and slap on some eye make-up. Shoot, I might even start accessorizing.
Note: I already started this one and people are noticing. The other day my supervisor told me I looked "very Russian-spy." I took that as a compliment.

Stage 2: Eat better. [To be initiated in April]
Once I am no longer a student (internships don't count) I will have no excuse for sticking three plain tortillas in the oven and calling it dinner. I will make myself real person food and I will invite people over to share it with me.

Stage 3: Live better. [To be initiated in June]
This is where things are going to get really crazy with the dancing, the speaking of foreign languages, the instrument playing, the blogging and the socializing. As of now the plan is to take the whole summer off just to re-establish myself as who I want to be and erase any vestiges of reclusive-student-me.

Stage 4: Exercise better. [To be initiated in September]
Unfortunately, you only get one shell to live in. Here is where I am going to take a hard look at how I am caring for mine and start filling in the gaps in my exercise routine.

Alright guys this post is getting lengthy. Since I can only hope to hold your attention for so long I am going to wait to tell you about how I am trying to incorporate a piece of all of these stages into the first segment for later. Stay tuned.

In the meantime, what are your hopes for 2011?

Falling: Variations On A Theme

In my life, I like doing things I am good at and generally avoid things I am the opposite-of-good at. I also enjoy feeling like I am in control of the direction of and the speed in which my body is moving. Turns out this is hard to accomplish when one is hurling down the side of a mountain with sticks strapped to one's feet. But let's move backward for a minute.

When I was in elementary school, a big chunk of my extended family used to go cross-country skiing every MLK Jr. weekend. I loved getting together with all my cousins, driving to bend, making big dinners in the hotel kitchenette, watching Back to the Future marathons on TV and playing poker for matchsticks.

I hated skiing.

People (mostly Peter but let's just say people) have been trying to convince me that downhill skiing is different. I was told it was less work and that you have way more control because the bindings on the skiis are different. After eight years of convincing, Peter finally got me to hit the slopes of Mt. Baker last week right before the new year.

It was a humbling experience. Luckily for me, I checked my dignity along with my snow boots at the ski rental desk.

This is the only only picture I could snap before my camera died. Not as impressive as the actual slopes, but pretty. Can’t you just feel the optimism in the air?

My goal for the day= Not to hate every second of it.

There were a few indicators that downhill skiing may not have been a good fit for my safety-conscious-self.

First red flag, signing the liability release form. It went a little something like this.

Desk Man: I just need you to sign this before you can get started.

Me: Okay no problem.

[Reads most of release form stating that skiing is inherently dangerous and may result in injury or death and that skier is held personally responsible for any injury or death caused by running into a fellow skier]

Me: I am not sure reading this is a good idea.

Desk Man: No, no, you’re just reading it wrong. Basically it says skiing is tons of fun and that you will have loads of fun and leave remembering how fun it all was. Fun, fun, fun.

Me: Uh, okay.

The second red flag, the rental guy almost forgot to get me the helmet I rented (not included with the ski rental). Apparently not very many downhill-skier-type-people past elementary school wear helmets when careening down the sides of mountains. I told him my brain was my best feature and there was no way I was flying down the slopes with a naked cranium. I think that pegged me as the not-a-downhill-skier-type.

Onward to the skiing. After a brief tutorial by Peter, I took a 1.5 hour lesson, in which I learned a little and fell a lot. But the real falling came later, when I tried to show off my skills to Peter. Turns out I lost my bravery somewhere after lunch. At that point I learned that holding yourself perfectly still on a slope takes an excessive amount of muscular energy, and that I fall a lot when frustrated.

In the days leading up to the ski trip, friends told me repeatedly “if you get going too fast or in the wrong direction, just fall. Falling doesn’t hurt.” I guess those people don’t fall the same way as I do, because coming down hard on one hip with your legs tangled up, sliding across the snow and hitting yourself in the face with your ski pole definitely hurts.

Overall, my success was limited and fleeting, but existent. My biggest success was at the very bottom of the very last run, where I had 5 or 6 really great turns in a row (meaning, without crashing into snow banks in-between).

People keep asking me if I had fun. I decided that what I had resembled fun intermittently, especially the times when I felt I was truly deciding where my body went. Perhaps what I had was a close relative to fun? Maybe something that was also distantly related to panic/fear? However, I will say that the sun was shining, the mountains were beautiful, the snow looked incredible on the trees, riding the ski lift was really nice (until I was required to dismount) and I was with my favorite person in the whole world. Those parts were definitely fun.

That night when we got home Peter said "I figure if I can get you to go skiing once every eight years and we live to be 100, we can go together eight times! That is pretty good, right?"

Honestly, I think eight times might be optimistic, and I am by no means ready to try again tomorrow, but I didn't hate it.

P.S. Between the trying to stay motionless on hills, the falling and the schlumping around the lodge in ski boots my body was trashed. It was almost comical to try to walk the next day. Who am I kidding. It was hilarious.