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Archive for the ‘Apartment life’ Category

Home sweet home — finally #SundayStories

Posted in Apartment life, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 17, 2021| 2 Comments »

Mi casa es su casa.

Dear Readers,

You may be wondering where I’ve been. I’ve been in Hell. Specifically, I’ve been in the First Circle: Limbo.

I do not do well with uncertainty. And finding a place to live in St. Louis has come with SO MUCH UNCERTAINTY. And dealing with people who hang out in the Fourth Circle: Greed.

First, I was going to rent. Then I saw how expensive rent is here. (It’s not as bad as Atlanta, but considering we are paying for two places to live, it’s bad.)

I decided to buy a cute condo downtown. Until I saw how much HOA fees are. (Hint: They are not cute.)

My brother said, “For that amount, you can buy a nice house.”

But I didn’t want a house. A house comes with upkeep.

My realtor said, “For that amount, you can hire someone to do the upkeep.”

So I found a house and decided to buy it. It’s adorable. It’s on a street that reminds me of Savannah, and the neighborhood brewery is a one-minute-and-20-second walk away. (For real. I timed it.)

But.

BUT.

The inspection found a few issues in this 1891 gem. We negotiated like mad to work it out.

But then, a new problem:

The seller got a divorce. Never took the ex off the deed.

Uh oh.

That delayed closing a week. Meanwhile, we had to get out of the place in Atlanta. No problem: Seller was going to grant possession prior to closing (as she should: It was her fault). But she wanted to charge $83 per day.

Excuse me?

As my stuff was in a moving truck and ready to go to St. Louis, I was in a tight spot.

Sigh. FINE.

Then — as Eddie and I were driving separate UHauls to Missouri (another terrible story), the seller changed her mind.

SHE CHANGED HER MIND.

Now, I need you to know this: I discovered (because I did spend many years as a reporter) that the seller would be my next-door neighbor. SHARING A WALL, as it is a row house.

So this woman fully knew she would be royally screwing over her soon-to-be-close neighbor. And she did it anyway.

(This is not even the climax of the story, in case you are wondering. We have a ways to go to the denouement.)

My GOD.

Now entering Fifth Circle: Anger. Please keep hands and arms inside the vehicle.

As the owner, it was her prerogative. For sure. But also a dick move.

So.

I’m nothing if not resilient. While driving the truck, I booked a storage unit in St. Louis and hired some folks for the next day to help us move my stuff into it.

Recalculating. This route avoids the Seventh Circle: Violence.

On the day I was supposed to move in, we ended up staying with my mother. Thankfully! And made the best of it.

I did close on the house a week later. Her decision cost me a week and SO MUCH MONEY because I had to hire actual movers, instead of abusing my family.

That experience was atrocious on its own. (Hence my comment about the climax.)

The good news is that the house is mine. I’ve been here two weeks. And my neighbor hasn’t dared to show her face.

Are you surprised? I’m not. She knows what she did.

But I have a place to live. And a forwarding address. Finally.

And you are welcome to come visit.

Your hardy friend,
Beth

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Breaking and entering #SaturdayInsanity #SundayStories

Posted in Apartment life, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 10, 2021| 2 Comments »

Dear Mid-America Apartments:

I hate you with a white-hot rage. The temp of a thousand suns.

I hate you like Bette hated Joan.

I hate you like a high-school boyfriend hated shirts with sleeves (much to my father’s chagrin).

(I hate you so much, but I still don’t hate you as much as I hate Mitch McConnell.)

You installed “smart locks” a few months ago. Ours has never worked properly. Your maintenance folks have been out to fix it more than four times.

Last night, it wouldn’t open. Period.

I called the emergency line. Twice. Eddie called too.

Someone will be right over.

Someone did not come over.

Someone called.

The someone: We don’t do lockouts. We only do emergencies.
Me: This is an emergency. Our lock isn’t working. We need to get into our place. Don’t you have the special key to get into the garage?
Him: No. You’ll have to check with the leasing office.
Me: They don’t open until Monday.
Him: I guess you’ll have to wait until Monday.
Me: How are we supposed to get into our apartment?
Him: I don’t know. We only handle emergencies.
Me: This is an emergency.
Him: We don’t consider this an emergency. Don’t you have the garage door opener?
Me: If we had that, I wouldn’t be calling you, would I?

I hung up on him.

I mean … WHAT the ACTUAL F?!

So we borrowed an extension ladder from a friend. I hummed the “Mission Impossible” theme while Dominic shimmied up and saved the day.

I was TERRIFIED of what bad things could happen here.

We should not have had to do this. Your emergency line people should actually have the capacity to help.

And you should have installed locks that actually work.

I can’t wait until our lease is up. I will NEVER recommend your company/complexes.

Beyond vexed,
Beth

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First week recap #SundayStories

Posted in Apartment life, tagged , , , , , , , on October 3, 2021| 6 Comments »

Dear Friends and Family,

All is well here in the heartland of America. I explored downtown Rolla on foot in about an hour last weekend. I made it to much of the rest of the town throughout the week.

Plenty to amuse me here.

I’ve found that people are super chatty. It goes way beyond the Southern hospitality that I know.

I had LONG conversations with a woman next to me at the nail salon (she is from Salem, has four kids, back issues, etc.), a guy in the beer aisle at Walmart (his mom cooks with beer) and a couple at the farmer’s market (she is surprised I know how to cook turnip greens and he runs their produce mailing list).

My haul from yesterday. Am I a Southern girl or what?

Really lovely people. True embodiment of the phrase “salt of the earth.”

I’ve been all over campus this week and now know my way around very well. Same thing: such nice people!

I’m not sure if I mentioned this, but my new employer is putting me up in university housing for two months so I can acclimate to the university and get to know people before I start spending all my time in St. Louis.

University housing = residence hall

(No, I didn’t bring my futon, neon beer sign and bookcase made with plywood and milk crates. 😉)

I’m on what appears to be the men’s floor. Though I have a private outside entrance, the interior door opens onto the hallway.

I share my bedroom wall with the guys next door: Paul, Conor and Owen. They had a particularly rowdy night Tuesday night. I have no idea what they were doing, but now to me they are collectively the Noisy Nerds.*

I live for the day I’m invited to a hall party. (You know I’m not kidding.)

Anyway, I’m still fine. A little bored at night after work, but fine. I’ll make friends. Find things to do. As I do. Don’t worry.

Love,
Beth

*Not a pejorative term. I too am a nerd about a variety of things. As you all know.

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Attack of the tomato killers #SundayStories

Posted in Apartment life, tagged , , , , , , , on August 1, 2021| 3 Comments »

Dear Plant Murderers:

You are complete bastards. I went out of town for TWO DAYS, and my beloved tomato plant went from this:

To this:

I didn’t even know why until I got close.

Hornworm.

I had never even heard of you. And then I had to Google how to get rid of you.

As per instructions, I plucked you off my plant and yeeted you into the sun. (Plucking was advised. Yeeting was not. Directions suggested killing you in soapy water.)

Look at this complete asshole. His name is Adolph.

I will be vigilant against your return, but I don’t know if my plant will rebound.

TWO DAYS!

I hate you all.

Sincerely,
Beth

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Sixteen CAN be sweet #SundayStories

Posted in Apartment life, Parenting, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 25, 2021| 2 Comments »

Dear Dominic,

Imma be real with you, Chief*:

I’ve had a great time with you this week, even though it wasn’t supposed to be just us hanging out together.

You were supposed to get off work so we could all go out of town.

But despite the fact that I told you the dates four times (🙄), you didn’t ask for time off.

So your brother and father went to Savannah without us.

That’s ok. We made the best of it.

We watched all of “Sexy Beasts” together, and were both very amused.

We went kayaking on the Chattahoochee.

We teased each other mercilessly.

Me to you after you made me wait an hour to start “Forged in Fire” with you: Let it be known that you’re the worst.
You: Oh, I know.

You even learned to ride Marta to football practice as I was working and couldn’t take you.

You even cleaned up after yourself in the kitchen and cleaned your room.

Maybe your prefrontal cortex took a developmental leap this week.

The reason doesn’t matter. The outcome does.

It’s been great. And I’m glad you sometimes enjoy spending time with your mom.

I hope to do it again soon. Maybe more “Forged in Fire” tonight?

Let me know via text (that’s your way, even when you are just in the other room).

Love,
Mama

*Dominic said this to me no fewer than three times this week.

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Chutzpah, thy name is Greg #TemerityTuesday

Posted in Apartment life, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , on July 20, 2021| 2 Comments »

Dear Greg,

Thanks for your inquiry into the space I have listed on Airbnb.

I have questions:

  1. Why are you contacting me and not your wife? She has a job (clearly), so I assume she is a big girl who can plan her own trips.
  2. Will I be able to rent out the kitchen and living room for those nights as she apparently won’t be using them?
  3. Do you do this kind of thing all the time? Ask for “a better deal” where negotiation is not standard?
  4. If you buy a car, do you negotiate the price based on how many times you plan to drive it?
  5. What about your own house or apartment? Did you ask for a discount on the price or rent based on how many times you’ll use the whole house?

Sorry, Greg, but your request is ridiculous to me. The site is Airbnb not Airb. And I’m going to be a B and say NO!*

I’m still going to have to get it ready and clean it when she leaves. The price is comparable to other places and much cheaper than a hotel.

You and your wife can take it or leave it.

Sincerely,
Beth

*Credit to my cousin Ellen for that gem.

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Takin’ care of business #TINYOFFICETHURSDAY

Posted in Apartment life, tagged , , , , , , , , on May 27, 2021| 4 Comments »

Dear Coworkers,

It’s been an interesting year, right? We’ve made work work. And most of us did it from home, with all corresponding challenges/distractions.

I don’t know about you, but my space is not ideal.

My friend Tammy came to visit this past weekend. She HOWLED when she saw my setup.

I can’t believe you haven’t written about THAT yet!

I haven’t. It’s a little … embarrassing. I’ve had to carve out a corner of the living room.

Here’s a peek behind the curtain — the room behind the Zoom:

The other night, I walked over there to put something down on my way to the couch. Eddie said:

Oh, you just had to stop by work for a minute?

Yeah.

Sigh.

For the first six months of the pandemic, I still got dressed in my professional lady clothes (including heels) and went to work during regular business hours. But when my university welcomed back a designated number of students in the fall, the number of faculty/staff allowed on campus had to be limited.

So I set up operations at home and made the best of it.

I still dress up for work (at least on top) but I wear slippers now.

I’d love to get a look at your Zoom room. Please share!

Looking forward to seeing you in human form.

Best wishes for the return to normal,
Beth

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(Don’t) give us dirty laundry* #MondayMotivation

Posted in Apartment life, Parenting, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on May 17, 2021| Leave a Comment »

Dear Dominic,

Do not use the washer as a dirty-clothes hamper.

I have told you this no fewer than 10 times in the past couple of weeks.

Put your dirty clothes in your hamper until you decide to do your laundry.

I’m sick of wanting to do a load of clothes and finding it already full of yours — just hanging out in there. Not washed.

Last night, you looked at me while you threw in your uniform. You were smiling in a very evil way, so I know you know exactly what you were doing.

So I did this:

And I will do it again.

For the 11th time: Do not use the washer as a hamper.

Kthxbye,
Your mother

* Thanks, Don.

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Can’t stop the spring* #WellnessWednesday

Posted in Apartment life, tagged , , , , , on April 28, 2021| 2 Comments »

Dear Spring,

I’m so glad you showed up. I suddenly feel much more optimistic about … everything.

Tomatoes, basil, mint, oregano

I have new herbs planted on the balcony, and I had my first hummingbird fly-by of the season this morning. He was a beautiful ruby-throated specimen. It wasn’t Tony. This one was a little wary of me. I’ll call him Ned.

I’ve been filling the feeder for weeks in anticipation.

(If you fill it, they will come.)

Fall always used to be my favorite season, but you’ve really grown on me over the past few years.

I don’t want to scare you off, but I think I love you.

So thanks for being you. I’m so glad to have you in my life.

Love, Beth

* The Flaming Lips truly are an underrated band.

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‘Well-behaved women seldom make history.’* #SundaySimmer

Posted in Apartment life, Random, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 11, 2021| 4 Comments »

Concept of mental load explained in one frame of a comic

Dear Men in Relationships with Women:

“Am I the Asshole?” on Reddit is alive with the sound of squabbling. One woman is upset about her boyfriend who doesn’t do chores (and doesn’t flush). A man thinks his girlfriend should do all the chores because she works from home.

Men, have you heard of the concept of mental load? No? Let me share it with you. (Thanks to Goat Yoga Lisa for introducing me.)

You don’t have time to read this whole thing? Yeah, women don’t either.

That’s the point. And the pandemic has made everything worse.

When did women sign up to be house managers? Hint: We didn’t.

Maybe in the Cleaver-style 1950s, things were more equitable. Men worked. Women stayed at home, raised the kids, and kept house. But now most women have full-time jobs and STILL have all the things to do at home.

Yes, there are exceptions. Yes, I’m oversimplifying. Yes, yes, yes.

But still my point remains.

I know you want to @ me with sentences that start with:

  • “But not all men … “
  • “But what about … “
  • “But I do … “

Please don’t.

Look. Listen. I’m sure you are lovely and think you are an equal partner.

But I bet you are not.

Ask the lady in your life. Listen to what she says.

Now that I’m conscious of mental load, I notice things I never noticed before. Gender roles are so ingrained.

A couple of weeks ago, we were visiting the house where my sister in law is staying until she gets her own place. It’s the home of a lovely professional couple. We were all outside chatting: three male adults, two male teenagers, three female adults. The lady of the house was being a good Southern hostess — getting drinks, bug spray, snacks, etc. My SIL disappeared. I found her in the kitchen alone making dinner. I rolled up my sleeves and started helping. We were in there working on dinner for about two hours while the guys had a nice chat outside.

To recap: Women inside making dinner or serving snacks/drinks. Men outside relaxing.

To be fair, when my SIL asked a couple of the men to help with one part of the dinner, they did.

But they had to be asked.

Now reread the article I linked.

That’s right.

Now do you see?

I thought you might.

Thanks in advance for taking on more of the mental load. Your partner will appreciate it.

Sincerely,

Beth

*Credit to Laurel Thatcher Ulrich.

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