Beyond the door is opportunity, industry, and economy.
Beyond the door is sustenance and entertainment.
Beyond the door are challenges.
Within the door there is austerity.
Within the door there are limitations.
Within the door there is comfort.
Life beyond the door sounds enticing. Life beyond the door offers the promise of things to do, places to go, and people to see. But life beyond the door will create stress and sweat.
Life within the door promises nothing. Life within the door imposes limits. But life within the door provides air conditioning.
That's right- air conditioning.
This has not been a statement about expanding horizons, taking the road less traveled, or pursuing passion in spite of difficulties. This has been about air conditioning.
Window air conditioner units are all that stand between me and this sweltering weather. Therefore, while there's a list of things I'd like to do around the house, there's not a chance I'm leaving my haven of cool air, no matter how limiting it may be.
My only escape seems to be the office. What a life.
Dear June, why so hot? Why so humid?
Sunday, June 14, 2015
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
A Tired State of Mind
I've been tired all week. It's a compilation of bad habits and long days. The fun way to handle this situation is to get hyped up on caffeine, but sadly, the nearest Starbucks is 20 miles away. The second best way to handle this is to sleep, but that doesn't seem to be in the cards. So what we're left with is an overly tired Kate.
Overly tired Kate sometimes gets overly talkative. Overly tired Kate sometimes gets overly emotional. Overly tired Kate sometimes gets overly angry. Perhaps the most dangerous, Tired Angry Kate is funny after the fact. I have spent two days this week as Tired Angry Kate, and wish to share a glimpse of those days with you. I have also decided to include some multimedia components, because they just add something to this post.
Stage 1.) I'm physically present, but mentally I'm probably off in another world, thinking about something far more pleasant. Sunshine, beaches, and writing frequently occur in these other worlds. (Don't watch this entire clip. It's four minutes too long for a blog post.)
Stage 2.) If you interrupt my stay in happy dream world, in any way shape or form, I don't like you any more.
3.) I'm starting to get passive aggressive by stage three. I resort to the lowliest of lows- telling you how I really feel without really telling you how I feel.
Stage 4.) Passive aggressiveness is gone. I resort to name calling and put downs. But I'm still tired and not at full mental capacity, so my insults are often silly and juvenile.
Stage 5.) WARNING #1: Crude gestures and some language in this clip.
WARNING #2: If you progress past stage four, you're venturing into dangerous territory. At this point I am angry and have no filter and am willing to make direct, mean statements to get my point across. (I will probably then start crying, because I hate being angry to the point of being mean.)
Stage 6.) I've used up all of my emotional energy, and a good bit of my physical energy as well. It's time to sleep now- even if that means I take a 15 minute time out to nap in the car. When I come back, I'll be my normal happy self- after a strict "15 minute wake up time" policy has been enforced. Let's be reasonable here.
Conclusion- Kate needs sleep.
Note #1- I've only progressed to stage four this week.
Note #2- Assuming someone doesn't try to return my call after 9:30 (cough, Katie, cough), I should get enough sleep tonight and will be out of the tired stages altogether.
Overly tired Kate sometimes gets overly talkative. Overly tired Kate sometimes gets overly emotional. Overly tired Kate sometimes gets overly angry. Perhaps the most dangerous, Tired Angry Kate is funny after the fact. I have spent two days this week as Tired Angry Kate, and wish to share a glimpse of those days with you. I have also decided to include some multimedia components, because they just add something to this post.
Stage 1.) I'm physically present, but mentally I'm probably off in another world, thinking about something far more pleasant. Sunshine, beaches, and writing frequently occur in these other worlds. (Don't watch this entire clip. It's four minutes too long for a blog post.)
Stage 2.) If you interrupt my stay in happy dream world, in any way shape or form, I don't like you any more.
3.) I'm starting to get passive aggressive by stage three. I resort to the lowliest of lows- telling you how I really feel without really telling you how I feel.
Stage 4.) Passive aggressiveness is gone. I resort to name calling and put downs. But I'm still tired and not at full mental capacity, so my insults are often silly and juvenile.
Stage 5.) WARNING #1: Crude gestures and some language in this clip.
WARNING #2: If you progress past stage four, you're venturing into dangerous territory. At this point I am angry and have no filter and am willing to make direct, mean statements to get my point across. (I will probably then start crying, because I hate being angry to the point of being mean.)
Stage 6.) I've used up all of my emotional energy, and a good bit of my physical energy as well. It's time to sleep now- even if that means I take a 15 minute time out to nap in the car. When I come back, I'll be my normal happy self- after a strict "15 minute wake up time" policy has been enforced. Let's be reasonable here.
Conclusion- Kate needs sleep.
Note #1- I've only progressed to stage four this week.
Note #2- Assuming someone doesn't try to return my call after 9:30 (cough, Katie, cough), I should get enough sleep tonight and will be out of the tired stages altogether.
Saturday, April 11, 2015
To the Future Tenant of This House
Note: While I generally write about things that have piqued my interest in the last day or ten, today I noticed that I have about twenty unfinished posts for this blog. Starting today and continuing until I remember to finish and post all of the drafts, The Rambling Buckeye will take a scary trip down memory lane and try to remember what Kate was thinking about at that moment in time. This first post was written in January of this year.
I've been reading a lot about buying homes lately. Everything from how to find a buyer's agent to pre-qualifying to closing costs- I want to know about it. One interesting tidbit I came across recently was a suggestion to ask the seller for a list of "quirks" that are unique to the house. As I grow more and more aware of the "quirks" of my current dwelling, I have taken to writing them down, and will now share with you.
Dear Future Tenant,
1.) If you don't enjoy cool, arctic breezes flowing through your home in mid-January, you absolutely MUST wrap each window in plastic.
2.) You must also have two rolls of packaging tape on the ready so you can reinforce the plastic when your handiwork is unsealed any time the wind gusts more than 15 mph. It will happen. (Update: Forget packaging tape. Not only is it useless against the wind, you are also wasting materials that could help you GET OUT! Go straight for the duct tape.)
3.) Any water spigot with a red handle has an equal chance of being the hot or cold water main. Also, the bathtub faucet is backwards.
4.) Are you sure the front door is shut and latched? You'd better check again. Again- we're talking 50-50 odds here. (Update: ever since that last big thaw, the door has been sticking. Go ahead and give it a big shove. If it breaks, I'm sure they'll try to fix it with a blowtorch.)
5.) If you want to have fun some Friday night, just get a level and check the floors in the house.
6.) The mice here are sneaky bastards. (Update: This includes their penchant for dying while you're out of the house for an extended period of time)
7.) The south room offers the best view of the gas station, aka "Dinner and a Show." (Update: Today I figured out I have a great vantage point for shooting paint balls at Speedway customers who park in my driveway out of laziness)
8.) Each room has at least one floorboard with a decent sized crack in it. If you're careful, you'll never have to use a dustpan.
9.) If the bottom half of the house is unoccupied during the winter, be prepared to either offer your firstborn as a sacrifice to AEP or buy every article of fleece clothing you can find and hibernate for the winter. There are no other choices.
10.) Even though the cold water pipe to the washer is insulated and wrapped in heat tape- it will freeze anytime the temperature is below 10°. Also, don't even bother with the space heater. All it does is raise your energy bill and would start a fire in the only room that offers an easy exit to safety.
11.) If I've said it once, I've said it a million times: The only door that shuts properly is the closet door in the south room. The only door in a house with nine.
12.) Yes, that door leads to the attic. No, I don't know what's up there. No, I will not go up there with you.
13.) If you haven't signed on the dotted line, there's still time.
Signed,
She Who Did Not Do Her Research
(aka, She Who Waited Until the Last Minute to Find Housing in a Rural Area)
I've been reading a lot about buying homes lately. Everything from how to find a buyer's agent to pre-qualifying to closing costs- I want to know about it. One interesting tidbit I came across recently was a suggestion to ask the seller for a list of "quirks" that are unique to the house. As I grow more and more aware of the "quirks" of my current dwelling, I have taken to writing them down, and will now share with you.
Dear Future Tenant,
1.) If you don't enjoy cool, arctic breezes flowing through your home in mid-January, you absolutely MUST wrap each window in plastic.
2.) You must also have two rolls of packaging tape on the ready so you can reinforce the plastic when your handiwork is unsealed any time the wind gusts more than 15 mph. It will happen. (Update: Forget packaging tape. Not only is it useless against the wind, you are also wasting materials that could help you GET OUT! Go straight for the duct tape.)
3.) Any water spigot with a red handle has an equal chance of being the hot or cold water main. Also, the bathtub faucet is backwards.
4.) Are you sure the front door is shut and latched? You'd better check again. Again- we're talking 50-50 odds here. (Update: ever since that last big thaw, the door has been sticking. Go ahead and give it a big shove. If it breaks, I'm sure they'll try to fix it with a blowtorch.)
5.) If you want to have fun some Friday night, just get a level and check the floors in the house.
6.) The mice here are sneaky bastards. (Update: This includes their penchant for dying while you're out of the house for an extended period of time)
7.) The south room offers the best view of the gas station, aka "Dinner and a Show." (Update: Today I figured out I have a great vantage point for shooting paint balls at Speedway customers who park in my driveway out of laziness)
8.) Each room has at least one floorboard with a decent sized crack in it. If you're careful, you'll never have to use a dustpan.
9.) If the bottom half of the house is unoccupied during the winter, be prepared to either offer your firstborn as a sacrifice to AEP or buy every article of fleece clothing you can find and hibernate for the winter. There are no other choices.
10.) Even though the cold water pipe to the washer is insulated and wrapped in heat tape- it will freeze anytime the temperature is below 10°. Also, don't even bother with the space heater. All it does is raise your energy bill and would start a fire in the only room that offers an easy exit to safety.
11.) If I've said it once, I've said it a million times: The only door that shuts properly is the closet door in the south room. The only door in a house with nine.
12.) Yes, that door leads to the attic. No, I don't know what's up there. No, I will not go up there with you.
13.) If you haven't signed on the dotted line, there's still time.
Signed,
She Who Did Not Do Her Research
(aka, She Who Waited Until the Last Minute to Find Housing in a Rural Area)
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
I Locked My Keys in the Car (Or, How Not to Meet People)
You know those moments where you're just sitting there, minding your own business, and a startling thought just pops up in your head? While not frequent, I do have those moments. They're usually variations on the same theme- that I've left something hot (curling iron, stove top, candle warmer, etc) operational in the house and am now too far away to easily deal with the situation. Only rarely have I ever actually forgotten to turn something off and store it properly, and I usually feel like an idiot for worrying about nothing. But every so often, that feeling of dread is spot on.
Having lived in Logan for eighteen months now, I decided that now was as good a time as any to become more involved in the local scene and perhaps make a few local friends. You know, allies for when I inevitably tick off certain natives by correcting them for using the word "collar" for "color" or saying that "they seen" instead of "saw." Also, it's nice spending face-to-face time with friends more frequently than the once every month or so that I'm home. In any case, this day I was sitting in the pew at church, waiting for the message to begin, wondering what kind of friends I might meet here. That's when I got that startling thought.
"Where are my keys?" I don't even know what prompted it. There is literally no reason for an adult to have their keys in hand while a sermon is being delivered. None.
"Pay attention. You never leave your keys behind." It's true. If other people drive my car, I make them hold the keys up over their head to show me that the keys aren't still inside.
"Good job. You sat on your keys." There's a certain seat shift that happens during worship. I start with me on one cushion and my stuff on another, and by the end of worship I'm usually two cushions over. I'm not a hand raiser, but I am apparently a swayer.
"Which pocket did you leave them in?!?!" It's incredibly awkward to try and find your keys in your pocket while you are sitting in a pew. Looks a little like you're picking your underwear.
"Just go outside, you'll see they aren't there." Nope. Keys were still in the ignition.
I want to meet new people. I want to make friends. My idea of a good first impression is not walking up to the woman at the children's desk (aka, probably the most responsible, conscientious, and "with it" person in the church due to the nature of the job) and say, "Hi! I locked my keys in the car and I also left my phone and my wallet in that same car, so I don't have the means to contact anyone who can help me." After three failed attempts to call lock-out services, she looked at my with a pity glance and said, "Oh honey, just call the police."
I want to get to know people in the community. I do not want to get to know the police when they have to rescue me from my own denseness. Also, I asked the cop what his name was after he opened my door. He politely, yet quizzically, shared his name. I found out later that he had just won a service award and is generally well-known and well-regarded in the city. Ha. Newbies.
The good news is- my car was opened and the day was saved. I am glad to have made the acquaintance of two new people despite the circumstances. I will continue my quest to have more successful interactions with the general public. The end.
Having lived in Logan for eighteen months now, I decided that now was as good a time as any to become more involved in the local scene and perhaps make a few local friends. You know, allies for when I inevitably tick off certain natives by correcting them for using the word "collar" for "color" or saying that "they seen" instead of "saw." Also, it's nice spending face-to-face time with friends more frequently than the once every month or so that I'm home. In any case, this day I was sitting in the pew at church, waiting for the message to begin, wondering what kind of friends I might meet here. That's when I got that startling thought.
"Where are my keys?" I don't even know what prompted it. There is literally no reason for an adult to have their keys in hand while a sermon is being delivered. None.
"Pay attention. You never leave your keys behind." It's true. If other people drive my car, I make them hold the keys up over their head to show me that the keys aren't still inside.
"Good job. You sat on your keys." There's a certain seat shift that happens during worship. I start with me on one cushion and my stuff on another, and by the end of worship I'm usually two cushions over. I'm not a hand raiser, but I am apparently a swayer.
"Which pocket did you leave them in?!?!" It's incredibly awkward to try and find your keys in your pocket while you are sitting in a pew. Looks a little like you're picking your underwear.
"Just go outside, you'll see they aren't there." Nope. Keys were still in the ignition.
I want to meet new people. I want to make friends. My idea of a good first impression is not walking up to the woman at the children's desk (aka, probably the most responsible, conscientious, and "with it" person in the church due to the nature of the job) and say, "Hi! I locked my keys in the car and I also left my phone and my wallet in that same car, so I don't have the means to contact anyone who can help me." After three failed attempts to call lock-out services, she looked at my with a pity glance and said, "Oh honey, just call the police."
I want to get to know people in the community. I do not want to get to know the police when they have to rescue me from my own denseness. Also, I asked the cop what his name was after he opened my door. He politely, yet quizzically, shared his name. I found out later that he had just won a service award and is generally well-known and well-regarded in the city. Ha. Newbies.
The good news is- my car was opened and the day was saved. I am glad to have made the acquaintance of two new people despite the circumstances. I will continue my quest to have more successful interactions with the general public. The end.
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