Aches.

In high school, I was a frequent migraine sufferer. Retrospectively, I blame them on all the stress of teenage angst. If I was anything in high school, I was overflowing with angst. (Sorry about that, parents!) But I'd sleep 'em off in the morning and be fine by the afternoon.

These past few days, I've been getting headaches. (Also, a hurricane passed through the entire east coast, save for Roanoke.) They... the headaches, became more frequent, and then last night, more severe. I texted my on-call physician, a much-loved cousin who is in fact a legitimate doctor and far superior to Web MD, who told me to just sleep it off.

So I slept. I slept for 12 hours. With a pillow over my head. I awoke this morning to an eerily blue room since I had pulled my curtains down and they really just diffuse the light more than block it. I have never missed the awesome shades of Europe with the metal slats on the exterior of the window that block out EVERYTHING more than I did this morning. I still had a headache.

Here I am, a few hours later, and it's still there. However, after 12 hours of sleep, there's not much I can do. So the computer is set to dim, the shades are drawn, and I'll crank out some more job applications Edgar Allen Poe style. I have no doubt in my mind that this is how he wrote some of his best work - in leggings, old glasses and oversized sweaters in a dark and eerily silent room, save for the dripping of the leaky sink and the buzz of the cheap AC unit. It's how The Raven was written. Fact.

I was excited to see that Peggy Olson takes Excedrin Migraine. Should I do the same, Peggy??

I flee the state on Thursday for a much-needed escape. Virginia, you may be for lovers, but I'm not loving on you right now.

Unemployment: So exciting it makes the world tremble in fear

Yesterday, I was on my computer, reading the news, gchatting with folks and halfheartedly looking up job openings when I felt my legs shake. At first I thought my legs were being weird, perhaps rebelling against me for two consecutive days of yoga. Then the shaking intensified and I got frustrated at my landlord, thinking, "Look, I know no one else is home right now because they all are good citizens with jobs, working to better our society, but I AM HOME and I PAY TO LIVE HERE so please desist with the renovations downstairs." That's when the glasses in the kitchen started to shake and my microwave almost fell off its cart, and I came to the realization that it wasn't renovations. So I looked out my window. Nothing. Then my friend in New York City asked me if I had felt something, and I was finally able to piece it all together.Roanoke is about 150 miles southwest from Mineral, VA where the earthquake originated, but as everyone knows from the abundance of news stories, everyone is fine, nothing went wrong, etc etc. It was unexpected because... we never have earthquakes here, as evidenced by my complete ignorance as to what was occurring. Friends as far north as Montreal said they felt the quake.

Funemployment has, thus far, meant large amounts of cleaning and forcing myself to "exercise" because I know I have no excuse now. After two days of yoga, today I opted to combine exercise with cleaning and vacuumed. Hey, hey, it's totally cardio. Stop laughing.

Let's discuss vacuums, shall we? When I moved into this apartment, my parents gave me their old vacuum so they could get a new one. And by "gave" I mean they didn't want their old one anymore because it was awful but have issues throwing things out so I got stuck with it. Whenever used, it would emit clouds of dust, leaving whatever roomed you vacuumed smelling like dirt. Curiously, the clear bagless part never seemed to fill up with anything, either. My theory? It picked up the dust from the floor and spread it around your room until it resettled to the floor you just theoretically cleaned. Your room doesn't even get to SMELL clean - it's awful.

In my effort to deep-clean the apartment for lack of anything better to do with my time, I asked Brittannica if I could borrow her new vacuum. This morning, I woke up early like a kid on Christmas morning, and vacuumed away. Let me tell you... after months, nay YEARS, of a dreadful vacuum, this was like vacuuming with unicorns and elves. This thing cleans and my apartment even has those fun vacuum lines on the carpet! This thing is legit, let me tell you.

So that's my life right now. Earthquake. Fake, half-assed exercise. Cleaning. Throw in some job hunting and you've got a pretty good picture of my day-to-day. Please, withhold your jealousy.

(Image cred to the hilarious tumblr jmckinley and his representation of DC's 2010 earthquake devastation)

Rats, a mouse!

My freshman year of college, a mouse was found in my dorm room. From what the girls on my hall and I were able to deduce, he fed on the other half of the suite, but slept in mine. Being college females, we naturally fell in love with a cute, small rodent, and did the unforgivable - we named him. The resident mouse was loving labeled "Roger" and we set out a humane trap to catch him. Someone bought a cage from which he escaped, and then we miraculously caught him again because Roger wasn't the brightest. He was set free in a field. In November. Roger probably died that very night.

Today I was sitting on the living room floor eating sourdough pretzel bites out of the bag like the fat kid I am, when I noticed something scurry past my right side. I jumped and assumed the worst - that it was a cockroach. Well, lucky me, it kept scurrying. It scurried towards the kitchen enough for me to get quite the view of my new third roommate - we have a mouse. I swear, this apartment. Our windows shatter, our roof leaks, there was a mushroom growing in the window ledge of the bathroom the other day, I kid you not, and now this. Now, a rodent.
It was when I sat the bastard in the kitchen sitting happily on my bathmat that I tell myself is acceptable to use as a kitchen mat by the sink that I lost it. Here he was, intruding on my space uninvited, IN MY KITCHEN? I think not, friend. You will not enjoy the same ending as Roger; I have no intention of being humane in my capturing of you. You are eating my food that I pay for WITHOUT food stamps. You are not paying rent, so you may not stay here. Get. Out. I don't care that I used to be the crazy hamster lady in middle school, I now lack the same soft spot for rodents. You're not a stray basset hound in my kitchen, you're a mouse.

OfficeMate (who is no longer my office mate. Tragedy!) said he liked to think of our new friend as Remy from Ratatouille. Until the mouse begins to cook me four-course gourmet meals, I don't want him here.

I called the landlord.
"Hi, I have a mouse in my apartment?"
"Oh lucky you!"
"Yes, well, he's not paying rent, so I was wondering what the proper protocol was for his eviction."

They're coming tomorrow with traps and will spray around the perimeter of the building. Goodbye, sir. You are not welcome. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.

Life Lessons: Internet, Poverty, Roanoke

Dearest Blog, how I have seemingly neglected you. Let me explain!

Last week, there were some crazy storms in these parts. When our internet began to get temperamental, I wasn't completely surprised. Phone lines were down throughout the valley, and we didn't even have internet at the office last Friday. Then the internet started just... not existing in the apartment. OfficeMate being cursed with being tech savvy was plagued with my unending questions: "Can you make the internet work??" "Why is the internet down?" "THE FOURTH LIGHT ON THE MODEM STILL ISN'T BLINKING. YOU SAID THAT MEANT NO INTERNET STILL. WHAT'S GOING ON?" I generally was told the internet was down, to be patient, and "You have internet on your phone."

Internet on my phone is all well and good, but I can't blog on my phone. I can't apply for jobs on my phone. Google reader on the iPhone is far from fantastic. First world problems are hard.

At the moment, our internet is still down (kind of). The cable in our living room just doesn't want to work, and the one in OfficeMate's room is connected to it. The one in my room, however, just mysteriously appears out of the wall and is seemingly connected to the outdoors (or the guy-below-me-who-I-can-hear-snore). So at the moment the modem is plugged in my room, stretched across my bed to the lone plug in here, with an ethernet cable to get this 2004 piece of machinery on these crazy intertubes.

I digress. It is now June. I have slightly over two months left in my AmeriCorps tenure. I'm legitimately qualified for these jobs I've been applying to. I've begun wondering if I need to start thinking about moving out things I'm not using anymore (winter sweaters, coats, boots, etc). While on one hand, I wonder where the time went and I become all nostalgic for the valley, I am very much ready to continue on to the next phase of my life. Roanoke has been amazing to me (other than having my money stolen, moving three times, losing my computer to a ghetto apartment building, having my car get hit, just to name a few), and Lord knows I'll miss these mountains, but it's time.

I've learned so much this year. I've learned how to stretch a dollar. I've learned how to get by on next to nothing without the assistance of food stamps or handouts (One can absolutely get by on minimum wage in this valley without food stamps. Anyone who tells you otherwise is buying things they do not need). I've learned how to cook so many more things. I've learned how to fill my tires with air (don't mock, I never had a car with tires to fill with air before). I've learned how to write a grant proposal, do development work, look for foundations. I've learned to appreciate the silence and slow nature of my life rather than get antsy about having nothing to do. Well, actually, that one I'm still in the learning process. Just today I learned that a cable splitter can go bad!

But I've also learned that, while I can get by on less than minimum wage, I'd rather not anymore. I miss simple things like a new pair of shoes. I've worn out my clothing since I've moved, since I've bought almost nothing new since I moved and laundromats are eating my unmentionables. I want to be able to buy a new computer when one gets leaked on, without having to worry about financial repercussions. I want to be able to afford rent somewhere other than where the shirtless, seemingly unemployed guy sits outside on his folding chair with his dog and cigarette in the midst of racial slurs and shotgun-toting neighbors. I want to be able to get groceries and an oil change in the same day and not cringe at the thought of my checking account suffering as a result.

My life is not glamorous. I'm not saying it's tough, because honestly, it comes down to creative budgeting and nothing more. I'm not a math whiz, I'm just smart enough to know how much I need to get by. But it gets old, and it gets old FAST. And I didn't go to college to have to be creative with my budgeting, I went to college to get myself a job that allows me to be creative in the office so I don't have to be with my checkbook. I'd rather spend my time at exhibits, concerts or productions than at home crunching numbers or, brace yourself, on the sofa doing sudokus because that's free. I'm just ready to live the life that the rest of my peers have been living for a year. And if you guys haven't been living that life, then stop making it look like you did on facebook! (Facebook creeping is also free) I'm just ready to take what I've learned, and continue on with the rest of my life.Roanoke is a chapter, not the end.

A Tale of Gossip.

Dearest Friends, let me tell you a tale. This is not a tale of romance or of darkness, this is a tale of neighbors.

Upon my return from work this evening, I noticed a team of men working on the lawn at our apartment. Mowing the lawn, trimming the bushes, your usual. One of the men called me over and asked if I knew who drove a certain car out front. I said that while I knew the person by sight alone, I was not actually acquainted with them.

I went to my apartment, went to the restroom, and when I opened the door I heard yelling in the courtyard. One of the lawncare men was yelling AT my apartment building, saying various colorful phrases which led me to believe that the man who drove the car I was asked to identify had made some racial slurs towards some of the workers. The yelling and colorful language continued.

So I situated myself in my old lady chair, like the gossipy old bitty I am. My apartment has provided me with an array of entertainment through my open window since the weather's gotten nice. It's really quite convenient.

As the worker continued to yell, a fellow building-dweller came outside to complain. She came, and I wish I was joking, with her shotgun. She began yelling at him to stop disturbing the peace, threatening to call the cops, and then I got to hear, with more colorful slurs, exactly what went down.

Resident Old Man of the apartment had indeed said rather inappropriate and offensive comments, and this man was not having it. Shotgun Neighbor suggested he talk to the landlord. Angry Lawncare Man left with the rest of the workers, and Shotgun Neighbor went back inside.

Man Who Lives Below Me and I Can Hear Him Snoring When He Sleeps yelled out HIS window to ask what was going on. Shotgun Neighbor yelled back her reply. Girl Who Plays Her Music Too Loudly threw in her two cents. Shotgun Neighbor mentioned seeing Girl Who Lives Upstairs talk to them before the yelling began.

Wait. That's me! I'm Girl Upstairs! Don't gossip about me by yelling through your windows when you KNOW I'M HOME. Also, you should know I'm more than Girl Upstairs. I'm Gossipy Old Bitty. Gossipy Old Bitty who lives in a Redneck Town.

The End.

When I'm a Real Adult...

So my computer gave up. Last Monday, he just refused to turn on anymore. Awesome, right?

Luckily, I was Charleston-bound last week yet again, because my brother graduated! This also means that my parents were able to bring brother's old (and I mean old) laptop - an iBook from 2004 that shall suffice as my computer until I have a real salary and can invest in one of my own. They keyboard pops out. I don't know why. Apple, what were you thinking?? So I apologize for the lack of blogging last week - I just had no computer. But check out my new, sweet, top-of-the-line-seven-years-ago gear! (Stock photo since I'm afraid of asking this one to open a jpeg)

In addition to using a seven-year old computer right now, I am also driving the world's most sneaker-like Kia Soul, which I had previously only associated with hamsters. When Mr. Merlot got hit back in February, I played many a fun game of phone tag with various insurance companies, and last week the whole situation was finally resolved. Mr. Merlot is in the shop getting his bumper fixed right now. Fingers crossed that he'll get a new T out of this whole situation!

This Kia though... oh man. I've always mocked people with particularly boxy cars. The Nissan Cube, most Scions, and now I'm in one. A friend asked me if the Soul had any redeeming quality, and I told him the key fob had a beeper lock thing. That's sad for two reasons: 1, Mr. Merlot doesn't have a fancy key fob and 2, that's the best thing I can come up with about the Soul. Thankfully, it's only until tomorrow when I can be reunited with my ghetto Corolla.

It's not uncommon to hear me utter the phrase, "When I'm a real adult, I'm going to have (insert whatever I'm kvetching about my lack of at the moment)." The past week's events have swelled up the urge to write that list out. And so I bring you...

When I'm a Real Adult, I'm Going to Have:

-A car that's not a Kia. I love Mr. Merlot and he's allowed to join me in Real Adult land.
-A laptop that both works and is younger than 7 years old. This computer is older than brother's dog.
-A garbage disposal. No more peeling carrots over the trashcan and getting sad when they slip into strawberry stems and moldy leftovers.
-An ice maker, because making ice one tray at a time is sad.
-A dishwasher, because nothing sucks more than making a big meal and then having to wash every damn dish by hand.
-Central air conditioning, so that when it's 90+ degrees outside, I don't have to hope the itty bitty window unit can reach my bedroom.
-A toilet with a balloon in the tank and a handle that isn't held together by a rusting paper clip. Yes, you read that properly. I don't even know how my toilet is able to flush without exploding.
-DVR. Because no one should have to choose between House and How I Met Your Mother.
-A gas range. Not only do they cook more evenly and ensure you can cook after the power goes out, food doesn't get stuck on them and then later set off the smoke detector when you try to boil water.
-A double oven. I've never had one and can't help but imagine they'd be so helpful.
-A ceiling that doesn't leak onto my electronics. Or really, one that just doesn't leak at all.
-More than two chairs at my dining room table so that if you have a third person over, you don't have to drag over a chair from the living room. And if a fourth person comes over, they don't have to sit on the armrest of the third living room chair. As for five or more people... that's when we eat around the coffee table.
-A shower that doesn't go cold for 2-5 minutes while you still have conditioner in your hair or shaving cream on your legs.
-More counter space than the pittance I currently have.
-A washing machine and dryer in my house/place of residence. Laundromats with men who talk to themselves and machines that eat your delicates are just unpleasant, awkward and expensive.
-Windows that don't allow huge breezes in, forcing you to tape plastic bags over windows in the winter. (Our sail came down about a month ago, and our window is back!)
-Windows that don't shatter when you try to close them, forever scarring you and making you rethink shutting the windows in the future.

All that being said, I realize this is the time in my life to live with a leaky ceiling, tape plastic bags over my windows, and warn visitors about the toilet. "Don't be frightened if it sounds like jet engine when you flush it, and you don't forget to jiggle the handle after the bowl drains!" In all of the ghettoness, there's a level of endearing charm.

What I Did Over My Spring Vacation

Yeah, that's right, we're doing this grade-school, journal-entry style.

Day One
Day One was spent traveling around the region in search of antique stores with Brittanica. We ended up at an adorable store in Buchanan, VA where I irresponsibly purchased a ring, scarf and the world's best salt and pepper shaker. Buchanan is also a lovely town. I ended the day grabbing dinner with some fantastic friends.

Day Two
Day Two was rainy. Like, rainy to the point that OfficeMate and I had to have our trashcan ready for Ceiling Leak Part III. It didn't leak, miracle of miracles (did the repairmen fix the roofing issue? MAYBE!), but we were prepared nonetheless. Britannica coaxed me out of the apartment to see Jane Eyre, which was honestly fantastic. For any literature nerds out there, I was supremely impressed with this redentiion. This was also my first soiree with The Grandin Theater, which was just as quaint and fantastic as I had hoped.

By Tuesday night, I was beginning to feel slightly ill. I had initally chalked it up to allergies, but this was worse than allergies. I went to bed, and awoke to ...

Day Three
Sick. So very ill. Sinus headache, runny nose, congested beyond belief... the list of symptons could go on. How I got ill, I'm still not sure. My only adventure yesterday was to CVS to buy some Sudafed and a second box of tissues for the apartment. I played a few rounds of Mario Kart 64 with OfficeMate (who promptly schooled me), napped a lot, and enjoyed watching Barcelona beat Real Madrid 2-0.


Day Four
Better! Only one Sudafed today, and I'm still alive and kicking. I woke up early(ish) and began the dreaded job-hunting process. I have my resume ready to go and cranked out a few cover letters. (Okay, one. But I want to have more done before I go to bed!) OfficeMate and I deep-cleaned the kitchen and bathroom, because it seemed appropriate.
You know how I get antsy sometimes in this town, and turn to cooking? Well, after churning out the cover letters (...singular. Letter.), I high-tailed it to Kroger and got my grocery ON.

You see, a week or so ago, I bought a bunch of fresh basil for a salad I made for an office party. Since I'm not accustomed to fresh basil in my kitchen, I never thought to use it. I realized today that it was beginning to look a little wonky, so, with the assistance of OfficeMate's cashews, I made some mad delicious pesto. Who knew you didn't have to have pine nuts to make pesto? (These ladies. Best new blog find, seriously. I have an unhealthy addiction to food blogs.)

While making pesto, my neighborhood earned some street cred. The Po Po visited my building. Why, I'm still not sure. But here's a picture for proof! It also proves that I'm a creeper and take photos out of my window while trying to be sneaky about moving the curtain aside.
Day Five
We shall see! Tomorrow is supposed to be a glorious 68 degrees and sunny meaning... I want to get my hike on. Hopefully OfficeMate won't be too sick (my bad!) to go.

Exercise, Easter, Books.

Remember when I first moved and said I was going to exercise at least thirty minutes a week? Well, not surprisingly, that never happened. I got in a few runs here and there, but for the most part, I have spent October to late April being a horribly sedentary person. I'd find any reasonable excuse to avoid exercising. "It's raining," or, "I don't want to re-do my hair," (I've used that logic before), or, my personal favorite, "But I should make a big breakfast full of bacon and butter instead."

About a week ago, I went to put on a pair of capris I bought last summer and they were ... snug. This realization made me stop finding excuses to eat instead of exercise. As of since, I have run twice (or was it once?) and done yoga twice! I unrolled my yoga mat for the first time... since I moved here. It's shameful, really. My yoga instructor, Chaz, is available when I am, and doesn't ever say anything when I'm absent for many a month. He also charges $0 per class, unlike the studio down the street. ($12? Please. You have an interesting interpretation of the poverty level.) The point is, together, Chaz and I are going to combat lethargy! (The image to the left bears zero resemblance to me actually doing yoga)

Today is Easter. Which truly just translates to homesickness. I went to Easter mass alone and reminisced about childhoods where hidden chocolate bunnies met untimely demises thanks to Mr. Sun. In an attempt to bring Easter tradition to the apartment, I went out and bought some ham steaks for dinner. They were ... alright. I was slightly disappointed. The jelly beans I bought on sale compensated, though.

Now, the office is closed for the week for Spring Break, which means I have a week of relaxation ahead. I had intended on attempting various hikes, but the weather does not look as though it will go along with my plans. I'll be thrilled to get in one hike. Thunderstorms are forecast through Thursday.

This means instead I shall be spending this week getting reacquainted with my Old Lady Chair. Since moving to Roanoke, I've been tearing through some literature, and I would like to continue this trend this week. I'm on my third consecutive Garrison Keillor book, and would you believe it took me until book three to get to Lake Wobegon Days?

So there you have it. When given a week off, AmeriCorps volunteers plan on which retiring NPR personality's literature to delve into. They also tell themselves they'll get into shape (I give myself a week of these lies). Easter brings new life, indeed!

(Book suggestions, along with ways to spend time when it's rainy and your ceiling still leaks are always welcome!)

All Hail Apple Products

Last weekend, I went to the land of Northern Virginia to visit my family and assist in the celebration of my mother's birthday. (Read as: bake her birthday cake, take drink orders for guests, slice the cake after my mother sliced the ceremonious first slice, and other joyous tasks.) Fear not, family, I jest.. only slightly. Of course I am more than happy to do these things for the woman that birthed and raised me.

I drove home Sunday night in what started as torrential downpours, and the further west I got, the more quickly it became a blizzard. Nothing spells fun like I81 Southbound with trucks in a blizzard going 40 mph.

When I finally arrived to Apartment Sweet Apartment ready to collapse, OfficeMate informed me that he had some bad news. It appears that, with all the rain, our old building was not fully equipped to... how shall I put this... keep a roof over our heads? A leak had formed in the fixture over our dining room table, which is also where we keep our computers. For all my complaints about my 5 year-old MacBook, Maccy, I was devastated. Somehow OfficeMate's computer had successfully avoided the ceiling pee, but mine was taken as the victim. I like to think Maccy offered himself in lieu of OfficeMate's Dell - Maccy's a gentleman. To the right, you can see Maccy post-leak, with the bowl of gross water on the floor.

He was fried. OfficeMate, who is quite good with computers, said he had tried to revive him, to no avail. I can admit with no shame whatsoever that I cried tears for the death of my trusty MacBook; his death, and the realization that I don't remotely have the funds for a new computer.

I took out his battery and left him to dry, with the naive hope that he might work again. For days, he sat on my Old Lady Chair, upside down, drying, in a computer-like coma.

Yesterday, I decided to give him another shot. With OfficeMate nearby for technical and emotional support, I put in his battery, plugged him in and pressed the power button. After a few moments of silence, Maccy dinged his glorious start up noise. My little computer was back. In the words of OfficeMate, "I'd say Maccy's back and better than ever, but he's probably going to run about the same as before."

Now, he's not in pristine condition. His battery fell victim to the leak. Where once a picture of a battery glowed with the percentage charged in the top right corner, there is now a battery with a big 'ol X in it. However, if that's the price I have to pay, I'm okay with it. Now he just gets to live plugged into the wall 24/7. Thank you, Steve Jobs, for allowing me to own a computer that can come back from the most dire of situations.

I'm really just pumped I don't have to job hunt from my phone. I suppose the first thing I'm doing when I get a salaried job is buying a new computer. It's time.

Hiatus

Dear Internet,

Please excuse this temporary blog hiatus, brought to you by a leak in my ceiling. Hopefully I shall return within another week or so. That lovely photo to the left is the oh-so-modern light fixture in the dining room, filled with water. The leak took some household victims.

Stay dry, all.
MV

Christmastime is here!

Christmas and Visitors
This past weekend, I had the pleasure of seeing two of my closest friends from college who drove many an hour to visit me in Roanoke. Upon their arrival, they expressed their disappointment in the lack of Christmas joy in our apartment. Naturally, an adventure to Lowes was in order. Within an hour, we had our $15 tree shoved expertly into Mr. Merlot, seated four people in him, drove back to the apartment and set it up next to the stockings hung by the radiator with care.
It wasn't as simple as it seemed. For weeks now, I had been bugging OfficeMate about our lack of a Christmas tree. Seeing as I won't be returning home until right before Christmas, I felt I was being denied all those Christmas traditions that college breaks always assured me I'd be a part of. Every time I saw a Christmas tree in someone's window, I'd point it out to OfficeMate. "Hey, hey guess what they have? That's right, a tree. You know what we don't have?" People had suggested trees, others had offered tree stands, but nothing ever seemed to come to fruition and I was becoming progressively more distressed regarding the lack of Christmas tree in our apartment. I was ready to buy the Festivus pole and list my grievances.

So I thank my friends for pushing us to get a tree. It makes me so happy every morning when I wake to the piney fresh scent; it reminds me of all the love that went into its procurement and decoration, and how, without my friends, my life would be much less colorful and festive. Also, my failed scarf that I accidentally knit into a cape has now become our tree skirt, and Britannica was amazing enough to lend us Christmas lights.

It was a solid weekend, all in all. Friday, I was lucky enough to enjoy the adorable Christmas parade, and Saturday and Sunday were full of Christmas time activities with my college friends, along with a trip up to the star. Yes, it was necessary. There was an ice skating adventure that took place in which I wiped out on the ice in the most epic fashion possible, and am still sore two days later as a result.

Winter... and working in an old house.
My office is an old house. Remember? Well, as exciting as it was back in October, it's become a little crazy in this record-setting low temperature winter. There's some solid central heating on the lower level, but it doesn't quite know how to climb the stairs to our second-story office yet. Tragedy strikes in the most frigid of fashions. Our space heater was doing great, but others on the second floor soon also realized it was cold and brought in their own space heaters. It turns out that three space heaters was just a little too much for our old house to handle, and we bust the fuse. Multiple times. We're talking about five times in one day and many runs to the basement to switch the breaker, all while many people yelled, "SAVE YOUR DOCUMENTS! I'M PLUGGING IN MY SPACE HEATER!"

So now I just wear my slipper-sock-boots with two pairs of socks, along with a scarf, heavy winter coat, and on the worst of days, mittens, at my desk. It is getting a little ridiculous and we're working on how to shuffle people around or start working from home on unbearably cold days - like today's 17, which didn't include windchill. I packed heels in my purse for an offsite meeting and realized afterward that they would not have cared had I shown up in my slipper-sock-boots.

Dear Santa,
All I want for Christmas is heat in my office.

....and an immersion blender, but you knew that one already. Safe travels!
Love your favorite AmeriCorps volunteer,
MV

Free Food, Ghetto Windows. Classic AmeriCorps Living.

Free Food
Coming back from work today, OfficeMate and I stopped by one of our clients to return a banner of theirs we had at the office. Upon our arrival, the Director offered us soup. Thinking she meant "let's grab a bowl of soup because it's cold but I honestly don't have time for you" I thanked her and said we had plenty of food. But she persisted.

It turns out that "soup" really means "a freezer full of of frozen Olive Garden food that had been donated, but they were running out of space for it, which included, but was not limited to, soup. Thus, our freezer is now full of Oliver Garden's finest and we also have a bag of Panera's choice pastries. Have I mentioned my roommate apparently has the food hook up? He had spoken to this director the other day and she had mentioned it to him, he just never remembered to tell me.

There is something to be said for great nonprofits, and that they look out for us volunteers. Cheers to you all, those who love on their volunteers!

Apartment Class
Remember when I broke a window? Luckily for you all, our window saga does not end there! These past few days have been becoming increasingly cold and windy. While sitting on the sofa, I couldn't help but notice I felt like I was in a wind tunnel. Our phenomenal AC window unit was in cahoots with the window across the apartment that I broke to form the world's most effective and freezing wind tunnel.

OfficeMate has been attempting to cover the window with a rejected poster of mine from high school that, for some reason, I felt the need to bring with me to Roanoke. However, it kept falling over and making me jump. So I proposed we use the trashbag that had been sitting behind a chair since we moved in.

We have a trashbag, taped over our window. It fills up like a sail whenever there's a gust, and prompts us to break into "Come Sail Away" on, at least, an hourly basis.

But hey.
You get what you pay for. And on this stellar stipend, trashbag sails/windows in my apartment are almost a perk! Almost as much of a perk as weeks worth of free Olive Garden.

Decorating on a budget

I've found that the ideal way to decorate a living space on a budget is to just not do so at all.

However, blank walls are sad and a pile of books does not a bookshelf make. So I've been looking around, trying to get creative. I invested in a $3 piece of gallery-worthy (or is that galley-worthy) artwork from Goodwill, and bought the finest particle-board covered in a wood-like sticker that you piece together to form a bookshelf that $15 could buy. I keep my eye on Craigslist for whatever jewels may come up, and have considered even getting crafty and trying to create something myself, but my lack of artistic ability always steers me clear. I put off decorating to make food. I make a lot of food. From the portions of food I make, you'd think I was cooking for 12 and not two.

I am open to suggestions on cheap (or FREE) decorating. As much as I enjoy beige walls, they're a little too reminiscent of "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" with nothing to adorn them.