Those of you who know me well know that patience is not one of the virtues that I possess. When presented with chances to be patient I tend to do a couple of things. Often, I will try to take care of the situation myself, right then and there without first thinking the entire situation out. Sometimes I panic and just sit, which is frustration-induced inaction and not to be confused with patience. If I have to depend on someone else, I will generally bug them to no end. If you don't believe this, ask my mom. She usually bears the brunt of my "bugging."
Soo, now that we know a little more about Kate, let me tell you how I am learning patience here in Charleston!
The Traffic: I told you that this was another story for another day. Today is that day! When first doing some initial research into the demographics of Charleston, I was interested to learn that the population was about the same size as Akron, as was the "metropolitan statistical area" population. So I kind of assumed that traffic in Charleston would be like traffic in Akron, which can be difficult, especially trying to take 76 in or out during rush hours, but not bad over all. Dang was I wrong! Everywhere you go there is traffic!! I've had the distinct misfortune of not working at my "home base" four miles from my house, but rather, training at locations 15-20 miles from home. There has not been a day where I haven't had to drive in bumper-to-bumper traffic. The one day, I was sitting in traffic on one road, watching people turn around in the middle of the road and head in the other direction because the road was so backed up from an accident a few miles ahead. About the time I thought about turning around and going the only other route I could think of, I turned on my radio and heard on the traffic report that there was an even bigger accident on that other road. I wasn't the only one late to the training session that day!
Find a girl named Katie Everhard and ask her how patient I am in traffic. After she's done laughing in your face (give her about ten minutes), she'll tell you that I think I deserve my own lane of traffic, far away from the traffic jams. So this has been one way of learning patience. It drives me crazy, so very crazy, but at the very least I am learning to tolerate the traffic. Last week, during my hour and fifteen minute drive home, I people watched. Five homeless guys crossed in front of, or near my car at one intersection. They just chatted with themselves, ambling about. I got to drive by the local university and watch their track team practice. Let's just say I would not put money on their shot put athletes winning any competitions anytime soon. I am learning to just sit and take my time, knowing that to hurry will probably only lead to an accident or a tension headache.
The Food: I spent a considerable amount of time planning for this move. Even before I had applied to this job I had been making lists of things I wanted/needed to buy to furnish my apartment. This led to certain "friends" asking me how my "imaginary apartment" was shaping up! I had lists for every room in the house, down to coasters and egg separators. One thing I didn't even think about was a microwave. There were a lot of things that I overlooked, and I guess I just assumed that there is a microwave in every kitchen!!! But upon arrival, no microwave. However, my Grandma did give me a toaster oven, and that has been my best friend in meal prep!! There is a certain amount of patience required with this device though.
Books have been written on how to prepare gourmet meals in microwaves, with proper temperatures and times for cooking. In theory, every meal can be terrific. My method is this: Everything cooks when you hit "one minute" and "high." Everything. So when presented with the toaster oven, I soon learned that you can't hit those two magic buttons, I actually have to put thought into the baking time and temperature and then wait! Same goes for heating items on the stove. Electric ovens are slower to warm, so I have to wait for soup and hot water too. I think Cooper thinks I'm crazy as I talk to the oven and the range, "Hurry up!" "Could you heat up some time tonight please? I'm getting a little hungry." I also have to stay near the oven when I'm using it, because I haven't totally mastered the art of the toaster oven, so I have to watch that I'm not going to burn anything. I would be devastated if I burned my cheesy potatoes! This requires quite some patience, as watching a toaster oven is about as productive as watching water boil. So now I just get all my food together, stick it on the magic tray and just stand there, patiently waiting, taking the opportunity to chill out for likely the first time that day.
The Dog: I love my dog. He's a pretty good boy, and when he does do bad things, he makes up for it in loyalty and general cuteness. But that dog tries my patience like nothing else. In the morning, I take him out, feed him, and then give him a half an hour before I take him out one last time. Yeah. The dog has now discovered that after his a.m. feeding and walk, I leave. So what used to be a ten minute walk to relieve himself has now turned into a thirty minute walk around the entire apartment community in an attempt to find the "best" place to do his business. Any attempts to hurry the process result backfire. As I tell him to "hurry up" I find that he will find other things to pay attention to. He could care less about the squirrels here, but as soon as I tell him to "hurry up," squirrels become the most interesting thing ever! Telling him to "hurry up" makes him more skittish too. One morning he got scared by a falling pinecone. The next, my neighbor on crutches. There was the day the garbage truck backfired. That was fun. Of course, we can't forget the imaginary noises that probably originate in his pea-sized brain. But, as alway, patience is required. While I would really like him to figure out that the patch of grass by my apartment is just like the one on the other side of the community, now I just walk along, listening to the mockingbirds sing, enjoying the sunshine and blue skies, and looking at the pinecones up about 50 feet in the air, wondering when one is going to drop and hit me. (This is not an irrational fear! I hear them drop all the time, and they are not small!)
So perhaps when I come back to Ohio in four weeks, you will notice that I have changed. I will no longer be asking drivers of other cars rhetorical questions like, "Did you just learn to drive yesterday?" I will take the time to heat my food properly in the microwave, not blowing up potatoes or turkey, but warming it to a delectable temperature. Stop laughing, I only said it might happen! So long,and until next time: sleep tight and don't let the little lizards bite!
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
South Carolina and Ohio are not the same...
I believe this qualifies as a "duh" statement. Anyone can tell you that the two states are almost opposites of each other.
Ohio: Has lots of good qualities like nice people, some natural beauty, etc, etc. It also has four months of sky colored as what artists describe as "slate." They have the occasional blizzard, generally a three week period in January when the high temperature never reaches freezing, and the largest body of water is fed by a river that once caught on fire and is occasionally labeled by the health department as too bacteria-laden to safely swim in.
South Carolina: Beaches, palm trees, lots of beautiful historic districts, palm trees, Spanish moss, palm trees, generally warm temperatures, palm trees, sun, and palm trees (or palmettos, rather).
There are many other differences too, but they are subtle. So allow me a small amount of your time to enlighten you on these differences.
Road signs: I don't really believe they exist down here. I mean, I really don't believe they exist. If they are present at an intersection, they are either 1.) The smallest possible road sign the road crews could fit the name on and it is perched on a pole at the most secluded corner of that particular four-lane-in-each-direction-interchange or 2.) It has been hit by a car or moved by a hoodlum and the sign is thus turned in the wrong direction., essentially directing you to take the wrong road. I once took a three hour tour with my best friend through Amish country in Ohio, and the DIRT roads were at least marked with an actual name plate designating that it was County Road, or Township Road 12345, but here in Summerville, nothing. What is even better is when you have one road but it ceases to be name A at a certain point and becomes name B, and then after three miles returns to name A. It makes it really easy to get lost.
Road names: They may not have signs, but they do have names! In Ohio, we're pretty good with naming roads after the places they lead to: Avon Lake Rd, Medina Rd, Akron Rd, Wadsworth Rd, Wooster Pike, Cleveland-Massilon, etc, etc. Here in South Carolina every road, every interchange, and every bridge seems to be named after a person. And I'm not talking Rohrer Rd or Yoder Rd, I am talking full names like Glenn McConnell Road, Sam Rittenberg Blvd., Berlin G. Meyers Pkwy, Paul Cantrell Rd, Ben Sawyer Blvd, Chuck Dawley Business Road, Miles Jamison Rd, and the Don Holt bridge.
Boiled P-nuts. Yes, I spelled that correctly. I don't know what they are, but I know that they are everywhere down here and I have never heard of such a thing in Ohio. At any rate, I think if we made them in Ohio they would be called Boiled Peanuts.
Lastly: Parking. Specifically, parking at churches. At both Northside facilities and I'm sure at many other facilities, there was talk about "What if we don't have enough parking?" I think we would be lost without parking spaces, people would drive around in circles until someone in a full-sized pick up didn't pull up far enough and then blocked traffic flow completely. And judging by the population of full size pickups in Ohio, there would be many blocked areas of parking lot. Here it seems like every church, whether large or small, Baptist or Catholic, rich or poor, or whatever has a half-grass, half-gravel area where people are just free to park wherever they choose. Having experienced this a few times, I know the system works, even with the above average size of the SUV population down here. (That I don't get. Seriously, it snows once every twenty years. You have the best weather and some of the lowest electric rates in the country. Support your electric and solar powered vehicles!) People pull in where they please but they make sure that they aren't blocking anything or anyone. I know this wouldn't fly in Ohio, what with all the mud, snow, ice, etc, but it gives the area a more "rustic, intimate" setting. It's quite nice, actually!
Well anyways, that is some of what has struck me as odd and amusing during these last three-ish weeks here in the South. As you can see, a lot of it has to do with traffic, since I spend about half of my life sitting in traffic, but that's another story for another day. Sleep tight, don't let the Palmetto bugs bite!! (They are real, and they are gross)
Ohio: Has lots of good qualities like nice people, some natural beauty, etc, etc. It also has four months of sky colored as what artists describe as "slate." They have the occasional blizzard, generally a three week period in January when the high temperature never reaches freezing, and the largest body of water is fed by a river that once caught on fire and is occasionally labeled by the health department as too bacteria-laden to safely swim in.
South Carolina: Beaches, palm trees, lots of beautiful historic districts, palm trees, Spanish moss, palm trees, generally warm temperatures, palm trees, sun, and palm trees (or palmettos, rather).
There are many other differences too, but they are subtle. So allow me a small amount of your time to enlighten you on these differences.
Road signs: I don't really believe they exist down here. I mean, I really don't believe they exist. If they are present at an intersection, they are either 1.) The smallest possible road sign the road crews could fit the name on and it is perched on a pole at the most secluded corner of that particular four-lane-in-each-direction-interchange or 2.) It has been hit by a car or moved by a hoodlum and the sign is thus turned in the wrong direction., essentially directing you to take the wrong road. I once took a three hour tour with my best friend through Amish country in Ohio, and the DIRT roads were at least marked with an actual name plate designating that it was County Road, or Township Road 12345, but here in Summerville, nothing. What is even better is when you have one road but it ceases to be name A at a certain point and becomes name B, and then after three miles returns to name A. It makes it really easy to get lost.
Road names: They may not have signs, but they do have names! In Ohio, we're pretty good with naming roads after the places they lead to: Avon Lake Rd, Medina Rd, Akron Rd, Wadsworth Rd, Wooster Pike, Cleveland-Massilon, etc, etc. Here in South Carolina every road, every interchange, and every bridge seems to be named after a person. And I'm not talking Rohrer Rd or Yoder Rd, I am talking full names like Glenn McConnell Road, Sam Rittenberg Blvd., Berlin G. Meyers Pkwy, Paul Cantrell Rd, Ben Sawyer Blvd, Chuck Dawley Business Road, Miles Jamison Rd, and the Don Holt bridge.
Boiled P-nuts. Yes, I spelled that correctly. I don't know what they are, but I know that they are everywhere down here and I have never heard of such a thing in Ohio. At any rate, I think if we made them in Ohio they would be called Boiled Peanuts.
Lastly: Parking. Specifically, parking at churches. At both Northside facilities and I'm sure at many other facilities, there was talk about "What if we don't have enough parking?" I think we would be lost without parking spaces, people would drive around in circles until someone in a full-sized pick up didn't pull up far enough and then blocked traffic flow completely. And judging by the population of full size pickups in Ohio, there would be many blocked areas of parking lot. Here it seems like every church, whether large or small, Baptist or Catholic, rich or poor, or whatever has a half-grass, half-gravel area where people are just free to park wherever they choose. Having experienced this a few times, I know the system works, even with the above average size of the SUV population down here. (That I don't get. Seriously, it snows once every twenty years. You have the best weather and some of the lowest electric rates in the country. Support your electric and solar powered vehicles!) People pull in where they please but they make sure that they aren't blocking anything or anyone. I know this wouldn't fly in Ohio, what with all the mud, snow, ice, etc, but it gives the area a more "rustic, intimate" setting. It's quite nice, actually!
Well anyways, that is some of what has struck me as odd and amusing during these last three-ish weeks here in the South. As you can see, a lot of it has to do with traffic, since I spend about half of my life sitting in traffic, but that's another story for another day. Sleep tight, don't let the Palmetto bugs bite!! (They are real, and they are gross)
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