clean house

You know that point during a large-scale, spring-cleaning-type project where everything looks so much worse and the amount of stuff to do until completion seems insurmountable? Yeah, I'm there right now. 

Solution: Leave the house.

*head desk*

Landlady's exact words on Wednesday regarding the bathroom: When I come up on Friday, I'll have someone over to fix it.

Coming home today I saw no evidence that anyone was even in my apartment, so I called the landlady. Her response? "Is the ceiling really falling? I didn't think it was that bad. I guess I should have gone in to the apartment when I was there this morning."

What?! The?! #^%&?!

Update #1: And she just now called me back (our 2nd conversation of the day) saying that her normal plumber must have changed his number, and everyone else is so expensive. Followed by a long dramatic pause, complete with sigh. So? Does that mean you want me to say that I can live with it and it shouldn't be fixed? Yes, this sucks for you and your bank account, but it's your responsibility. FIX IT.

Update #2: Aaaaaand she just called again. She's having a plumber come over at 9am on Wednesday, so I need to be there to let him in. Well, I can't be there, I'm giving a final then. Thanks for checking. And her solution is to just take down the panel where the water stain is (good, no need to have pieces falling anymore) and then... nothing. So now nasty leak water is just going to drip on me when I shower? More #^%&?!

the flood gates...

... are open. Literally. Well, not literally. It's more of a leak than a flood. And more of a ceiling than a gate. But you get my meaning.

10days ago my upstairs neighbor asked me for our landlady's phone number. Apparently his shower drain had been clogged for "a while" and he had been showering in the sink, so to speak. He figured it was time to do something about it. Way to be, buddy. Turns out all it needed was some Liquid Plumber, or Drano, or some other toxic Earth-killing substance that does a damn-good job.

At the time I recognized that his shower was directly above my shower, but I saw no evidence of damage in my place, it seemed to be an easy fix, and my landlady wasn't too concerned about, so I promptly forgot about it.

Until Monday.

Monday, while showering, I looked up to see a water stain on the ceiling. Hmm. Has that always been there? I can't remember. I'll wait to see if it gets worse.

Wednesday morning I remembered to look up again. Definitely worse. Much more evident and the crown molding looked water-logged. So I called the landlady and she's having someone come by tomorrow (Friday) to deal with it. Which is definitely good, because by the time I got home Wednesday afternoon pieces of molding, drywall and, well, "junk" (technical term) were falling from the ceiling.

Though I would like my shower fully operational (I have one of those removable shower-heads with a hose so I can still smell and nice all pretty for the world), I find this more comical than anything. I'm looking forward to mumble (school-sponsored faculty happy-hour every Thursday) this afternoon so I can rag on my neighbor concerning his attempts to flood my apartment.

cruise-ing

I love my hardwood floors. 

[Well, with the exception of that whole hair thing.]

Now that the weather has cooled and I've begun dressing accordingly (i.e., wearing socks), I've found a whole new reason to love my floors.

Think Risky Business, dance scene.

And no, I don't dance around in my underwear. But that initial foot slide... so. much. fun.

At first it was just a byproduct of wearing socks and standing up too quickly. Now I find myself periodically doing it on purpose.

Don't judge me. It's awesome.

doi

On my way to work this morning I had a moment of panic: Did I turn off the stove after making breakfast? I was pretty sure I had, but the peace of mind from actually checking was well worth the inconvenience of turning around.

A quick step inside the side door confirmed that the stove was indeed off.

...

Coming home, after a full day in the office, I noticed the front door was open. Not unlocked, but standing wide open. Ajar. From when I ate breakfast out on the porch.

Glad I came home to check on the stove...

the leak

My kitchen faucet leaks. Constantly.

drip. drip.

I've tried every possible configuration of the 2 handles to get it to stop, or at least to alter the rate of drip. Nothing.

drip. drip. drip. 

Here are my personal problems with the leak:

1. It is such a waste. Of water! Of money! The all-knowing internet tells me that a leaking faucet can waste up to 20gallons a day. Ugh, that's a lot. Too much. I don't pay my water, but surely my landlord doesn't want to shell out the extra $ for 20gallons. A day.

2. The sound. As each drop hits the metal sink, there is such a loud "ping." The acoustics of the sink are quite remarkable. The depth and shape of the basin really do amplify the sound. I close my bedroom door at night to muffle it. I've tried placing something non-metal under the faucet. This temporarily deadens the drip-echo, but as that item begins to collect water the drip turns into a big old PLOP with some splash fallout. It's actually louder. Not a solution.

My landlord and a handyman were here on Friday to fix a couple of other things in the house, so I informed them of the leak. The answer, "We know." They apparently tried to fix it earlier, but the conclusion was that the faucet needed to be replaced... and if she was going to replace the faucet she was also going to get a new basin... and if she was going to get a new basin she was going to get a new counter top. None of which she's doing for the next 2years due to cost. Apparently the cost of wasted water is "less" than the price of a new faucet. Again, the omnipresent internet has shown me that a similar model faucet only costs $54. So frustrating.

So for now I must live with the leak. My very own modified-form of Chinese water torture.

drip. drip. drip. drip. drip. 

it's time to take out the trash

I love living in a house. I only share walls, well the ceiling, with one other person. I have a garage. There are multiple entrances. I enjoy all of this, and have even gotten in the habit of making sure each of the 4 doors is locked. One thing at which I have consistently failed though: taking out the trash.

After 7 years in 2 apartments, I've gotten used to handling my garbage a certain way. When the can is full or smells like a dead mongoose take it out to the communal dumpster. Done! It was so easy.

The current trash situation isn't any more difficult, per se, it's just... different. I need to learn. The current routine involves taking the full and/or smelly trash to the garage. Not a problem. The next step is where I encounter the problems. Every week I have forgotten to take the trash down to the street on trash day. Previous weeks I've been reminded by seeing others' garbage stacked and have quickly run my bags down. This week I wasn't reminded until I heard the garbage truck on another street. Hurry! Go! 

Don't you fret. I made it.

Hopefully I won't take too much longer to catch on to the new system.

In related news: In the past 3 weeks my upstairs neighbor hasn't taken trash to the curb once. Either he is the new Captain Planet or... ew.

house of glass

There are some of you that saw my place in Ohio. The small, semi-underground one-bedroom apartment. It wasn't the nicest place, it wasn't the worst, but it had plenty of space and fantastic rent. The one thing that it seriously lacked was windows. There were 2 long, ground-level windows. Given that this was an apartment building, they were on the same (North) side of the apartment, facing the parking lot. Great view! Anyway, I would have liked more windows. I have that here. 

If we consider the house (not the porch), these are the windows I have:

• 4 dining room (1 in the door)
• 3 living room
• 3 kitchen (1 in the door)
• 2 bedroom
• 1 other bedroom
• 1 bathroom

That's 14 windows, on all 4 sides of the house. Fantastic! Throw in the 15 on the porch and there are 29 windows. Plus 2 interior glass french doors! Okay, those last 2 shouldn't count, but all of the windows feel like such a luxury, and I still get really excited about them.

There are 2 downsides to all of these windows, though:

1. At night I feel very exposed and I had to quickly go out and buy curtains for the main living space. There are pull down shades, but I learned to hate those my first day here. The bedrooms and kitchen have horizontal blinds, so those are okay. Really, this isn't a huge deal and is already fixed. 

2. Now onto the real issue. See, in my old place, try as you might, one could not see from the outside into much of the apartment. This was especially true of the bathroom. Given this, and that I lived alone, there was really no incentive to close the bathroom door. So, when I was alone, open it stayed. This 6-year habit has been somewhat hard to break. Now you can literally be in my bathroom (at the back of the house), look through the kitchen, through the dining room, through the glass front door, through the porch all the way to the street. I doubt anyone could really see much from the street, but damn, I can see out: not ideal.  Though I have been assured by B. Drake that I am not alone in my penchant to leave the door open, this is something that will need to be monitored. So here's my advice to you single-dwellers out there: Get in the habit of closing the door now. One day you too may live in a house of glass.   

But other than that I LOVE the windows. 

let there be light!

I know relatively little about architecture, building design and carpentry. What I do know is mostly from watching HGTV, which sadly I no longer have access to. Despite this, I think it is pretty common to have the light switch for any given room inside that room. Sure, there may be exceptions to this rule: outdoor spaces, perhaps even basements or garages (places without natural light), but for the most part, there shouldn't be much variation. As is the case with many of my assumptions, I was wrong.

In my Ohio apartment there were 3 rooms/spaces in which the the light switch was not in the appropriate room: the kitchen, the hallway, the study. 

• In the kitchen, the fridge backed up to a dividing wall separating the kitchen from the living space. The switch was on the living space side of the wall. Though this quickly became normal to me, it was always slightly amusing to see visitors struggle in the dark because they had no idea where the light was.  
• The main part of the hallway was on the opposite side of the dining room wall. Where was the hallway light switch? In the dining room, of course. What made this especially interesting was that the hallways light and dining room light shared the same light switch plate. Which light is it?! A game of chance every time as you blindly strike out to hit the switch. The hallway switch was actually the one farthest away from the entrance to the hallway.
• In the bedroom there was this kind of study area that consisted of desk and bookshelves. Though not truly separate from the bedroom, the switch for the area in the bedroom proper. Again, why?!

Despite the switch-placement oddities, it was actually fairly easy to "adapt." I also assumed that this was just a quirk of this place and that I wouldn't encounter such a thing again. Guess what. I was wrong... again.

For the most part, the light switches in this new place are exactly where one would expect them to be. Except in the 2nd bedroom. Where is that room's switch? In the hallway. Argh. And yes, I keep forgetting. Again. And again. And again.

Has anyone else run into the odd switch placement in their homes?

my things!

As is typical of many Americans, I wanted my things. I like my things. Life is not complete without my things! I don't actually believe that I have that much "stuff," especially after my pre-move purge. Useless thing? Gone. Redundant things? Sayonara. "When did I get this?" things? Out. Despite this, there's always some measure of comfort to be had when you are with your "things." Not only did this apply to the things that, I believe, represent me, but really, I just wanted my couch and bed. 

The movers were initially to show up Tuesday, but on Saturday they informed me that Monday was delivery-day. Holler. There is, of course, the large arrival window (12-4 in this case) to wait through, but they were there by 12:30ish. Holler, again. Earlier in the day, I decided to meet my neighbors on either side to tell them that a large truck would most likely be blocking their driveways. To the right, there's an older woman (Julie?) who watches her son's great dane during the day. As of right now that dog likes to bark ferociously at me. I'm assured he's really gentle, though. To the left are Drew and Rachel. Drew is a fireman.

My things arrive and I direct the movers as to where everything should go. It doesn't actually take too long because I don't have that much stuff. The furniture, for the most part, has survived the journey (one lamp is slight misshapen, meh), but the boxes. Oh my, the boxes. They are coming off the truck looking like an elephant sat on them. Corners crushed, tape coming off, rips. I'd say 75% of these boxes had been previously used (2x), so they weren't in the best shape to begin with, but even the new boxes had given way. Slight anxiety started to set in. 

Once everything was in I had to sign many pieces of paper saying all of my things had arrived. If you remember back to my previous post I was quoted $45682149.23 for the move (I've rounded up slightly). Really, it was estimated that I had 3650lbs of stuff. In actuality? 2120lbs. Meghan wins! I think the initial number was a combination of purging, taking my books with me, and the estimator just being really off the mark. Of course, the actual movers don't know how much it will all cost, but as of yet, I haven't been charged anything (hopefully meaning it didn't go over Colby's $1500 contribution). An invoice is getting mailed to me so I can know for sure.

Despite the condition of the boxes, everything made it. Unpacking wasn't too bad. I finished at least 80% of it on Monday and most of the remainder on Tuesday. Now I only need to buy some bookcases and a TV stand to put away the rest. All in all, not too bad at all. Below are pictures.

My dining room/workspace.

A view of the dining room from the living room.

Living room with sad little TV and stand.

Another place to sleep. This time indoors!

My bedroom, obviously.

My corner closet, that has no door. Curtains will have to do.

There is, also, a kitchen, bathroom and 2nd bedroom, but nothing too exciting is going on there.

the beginning, part deux

Other things I've learned about Maine:

1. That whole bottle deposit thing? Naive me thought it was free money for recycling. Nope, you pay that $.05 up front. See point #2 below.

2. Things are just more expensive up here. Especially food. Must be because they have to ship everything in. Well, except those blueberries. But otherwise, must adjust budget.

3. Street signs, at least in Waterville, make no sense. Now, I'm used to street signs identifying the roads to which they run parallel. And, for some signs here that is the case. For others, however, they're posted perpendicular to the road. Why?! I see confusion - and potential new routes? - ahead.

More on The Trip:

Sunday morning I was on the road by 8:45. Now, if my 16-hour trip estimation was correct I would only have 4 more hours to go. I hit a bit of traffic, but nothing too bad. Though, I will note, that once out of Ohio, I was continuously on a turnpike. This cost me over $30 in tolls. Roads should be free. The end.

I arrived at my new place at 12:45 (16 hours FTW):

First floor: All mine.

I then had to rummage around in the garage looking for the key that was left to me. I eventually found it, but it wasn't quite as "easy" as my landlady had described. Nonetheless, I made it in and took a survey of my new place. Yup, just as I remembered it. Then I began lugging in my car full of junk...

Colby had provided me with $1500 for moving expenses, which I was thrilled about. I could hire professional movers! No U-Haul! No loading and then unloading a truck! No relying on friends in Oxford and then begging new colleagues in Waterville to help me! All seemed well until I had a moving estimate done. They quoted me about $2500 for the move. As I am practically without a paycheck from May-end of September, that extra $1000 would be quite the burden. The cost of professional moving is weight x distance. I obviously couldn't alter the distance of the move, but by golly I could alter the weight. So after much purging of my stuff (needed to be done anyway), I packed up all the small and heaving things (e.g., books books books) for the car. I was hoping that this would be enough to bring down the cost, but wouldn't know until my stuff was delivered. More on that later.

After things were in, I decided to run to the store to buy a few food staples so I wouldn't have to eat out. I'd been "homeless" for a little over a week at that point. My belongings left Oxford July 9, but I didn't leave until July 17. Thanks to the kindness of friends (John Paul & Jenny; Dave, Ashley & Dean: THANK YOU!) I was never without a bed, but it's no fun living out a suitcase/car. Anyway, I'd eaten out plenty in the past 10 days and wanted no more of it. Not that I could get much more than just sandwich fixings because my kitchen was otherwise empty, but it was something.

Back "home" (still feels like a vacation), I set to the task of connecting to the interwebs. I was told that my upstairs neighbor would set up a wireless router for the internet. He wasn't home, so I was just searching for random, unsecured wireless signals. They were weak at best and varied as to which signal worked in which room. I had internet, but I seriously hoped that something more reliable was coming along. Can't.Function.Without.Internet.Halp.

My landlady had set up a small TV on a stool for me; very nice of her. Cable (and internet) are included in the rent, so whatever package she got is what I'll have to get used to. She told me it was just the "basic" package but she wasn't sure what channels that included. I have about 20 of the most random combination of channels. There are the networks, PBS, some shopping channels, CSPAN, USA, Animal Planet, a snowy TNT, and a French-speaking channel. French, not Telemundo? Right. I'm near Canada now. Some of them speak French up there. Got it. I watched TV for a bit on the camp chair I brought with me, but that didn't last too long. 

The glassed-in front porch holds 2 futons, so that's where I was to sleep for the night:

Want to visit? I have multiple places for you to sleep!

I made up my bed and set down to watch a movie on my computer. It was actually pretty nice out there; 4 of the windows open up, so there was a breeze. However, back during my senior year of college I learned, simultaneously in 2 separate courses, that most home invasions occur because of unlocked first floor windows. This has made me hyper-vigilant about closing and locking windows at night and when I'm away, as back then, and in every place since, I have lived on the first floor. But comfort won over, and I slept with the windows open. Though you better believe that I pulled down the shades on every single one of the 24 exterior windows. What this accomplishes I don't know. The illusion that no one lives here? No, my car is in the driveway. But regardless, it's what I did. And, obviously, I survived.