Baltimore. Week One.

Bubba and I have settled in quite nicely to our little abode here in Baltimore, save for not being able to fit our free sofa into the apartment. Please don't ask what happened to it. It's not a nice story. However, Bubba did get a cheap faux-dog bed out of it! He now sleeps on what was formerly a sofa cushion and seems to love it. To the left, I bring you "A Dog Smelling the Breeze While Sitting on a Sofa Cushion Next to an Old Chair and a Geranium." That right there? That's contentment.

I've been settling into a routine that includes walking Bubba and cooking meals that I promptly pat myself on the back for being so healthy and adult-like. I take the fancy free bus to work every morning, and depending on which route I take, I walk right by the inner harbor and get to enjoy a pretty great view.

This job is great. The organization is fantastic and all the employees seem approachable and cordial. Everyone has been nothing but accommodating to me, and I'm already itching to get past orientation and onto some projects. We have about fifteen country proposals due to one foundation by the end of October, and I've been promised a role in that, if for no other reason than translation. It's everything I've learned in my past two jobs, but in such a different context. Proposals, but for USAID instead of the DoD. Nonprofits, but on SUCH a larger scale than Roanoke. I'm grateful every moment for every bit of background I have, because it's all helping me so much. It's helping me understand large-scale proposals, it's helping me understand the basics of our strategic plan, it's helping me begin brainstorming about individual giving for an organization of this magnitude. This is an incredible opportunity for me, and I am going to learn SO much SO quickly.

Alas. Friends. Oh goodness, I always forget how much making friends SUCKS when one moves. I think I purposely don't allow myself to think about it. Bubba's been good company, but sometimes I yearn to hang out with someone who doesn't lick their privates. I think he and I will be going to an open air concert tomorrow night by our lonesomes, so perhaps I'll meet some people there. While eating mini rice cakes, leftover chicken casserole and a diet coke. That sounds like the epitome of approachable. Or crazy.

One day at a time!

Wrapping up October

Planty

I own a geranium. His name is Planty. He is the offspring of my good friend’s geranium, Gerry. Planty, bless his little geranium heart, is like my pet. I am not at a stage in my life where I feel remotely responsible enough for a dog, especially consider my cushy living stipend that I call a salary to make me feel like an adult.

I’ve had Planty for about three years now. He’s a little trooper, my plant. He endured a hurricane and later a snowstorm my senior year of college. Even when I thought he was dead, a little green sprout popped back up, and I knew my geranium was a fighter.

Planty, obviously, moved with me to Roanoke. He wasn’t the best travel companion – he didn’t speak much in the car. Regardless, by about day two at work, I felt it was time I bring him to the office. At first, Planty wasn’t incredibly receptive to his new environment, and he wasn’t particularly fond of the stinkbug invasion in southern Virginia. Every day before going to eat lunch, like clockwork, I would water Planty. He seemed to be warming up to his new home, looking content, loving the bright sunny days and fresh air on the second-story porch.

One tragic day the other week, I went to water Planty, and he was not there. Like any good mother, I immediately began to imagine the worst-case scenario. I called for OfficeMate, frantic that someone had stolen my plant, not really taking into consideration the ridiculousness of the notion that someone would go out of their way to steal a geranium. That’s about when I saw him. I saw him on the ground, having taken a two-story jump to his little plant death, surrounded by shattered pieces of his pot.

I had driven Planty to suicide.

I immediately ran inside and put him in the Styrofoam ICU (Intensive Cup Unit). A few days later, I went to Walmart and procured him a new fancy blue pot. He’s kept indoors now, on the kitchen window ledge. I worry about him. I never asked him how he felt about moving, about leaving his plant companions in my mother’s backyard, and now he’s acting out. This incident has also made me worry about my potential as a pet owner, and later as a mother.

For now, we’re hanging in there, Planty and I. We appreciate all the kind words on facebook.

Broken Window

After my busy week of a suicidal plant, moving, discovering only half of our stove works, and my first board meeting, it was so wonderful to be able to go out with some friends for my 23^rd birthday last night. It was low-key and perfect, complete with great people, tasty food, amusing conversation and questionable wine.

Upon our return home, OfficeMate and I got to chatting. I was struck with the realization that it was rather chilly, due to the fact that I had opened the living room window earlier in the day. As I innocently closed the window, it shattered on me.

This led to me calling my college roommate who is an EMT, an impromptu trip across Roanoke trying to find an open pharmacy for rubbing alcohol and neosporin, settling for a Kroger and buying juice.

My hands are now covered in bandaids, making it look like I spent my birthday not enjoying some pizza, but kicking someone’s ass in a bar brawl. …a brawl that, I’ll note, it looks like I won.

The glass has been picked up. The landlord has been called. Until then, we just get to enjoy a nice late-October-I-hope-it-doesn’t-get-any-colder-or-we’ll-freeze breeze.

New Chair

Yesterday, I also got myself a little birthday gift.

Say hello to my new chair.

This is my first purchase of a legitimate piece of furniture. I feel like such an adult! It was sitting at the thrift store, waiting for me, with its $20 price tag. I shoved it awkwardly in Mr. Merlot’s backseat, and he is now sitting comfortably in the living room. We still have no tables, but that’s irrelevant. Eating on the floor is still working out just fine. $20 for an incredibly cute chair! I love this city.

First Board Meeting

I had my first board meeting yesterday, and I can confidently say I feel like I rocked it. I was prepared with packets for each board member and was able to coherently and confidently answer all their questions. All my hesitations from the past two months dissipated when I realized that I’ve begun to pick things up – I may have only touched the surface of nonprofits, but I’m absorbing it all as I go. Not only does the Board of Directors hopefully respect me now, but I also can respect myself for knowing much more than I realized I did.

Today, I return home. For the first time in about two months, I am going to see my long-lost family, hug the dog, and enjoy public transit. And come Sunday night, I have to return back to Roanoke, as I try to make it home.

Making Friends, Impostor Lakes and Other Anecdotes

Making Friends here is tough. I've found that I dread each weekend, because I really don't know anyone here to do anything with. I lack the drive to go out to some place by myself to meet people, so I generally spend Fridays moping. It's not a good pattern I've gotten myself into and I am looking to get out of it. Labor Day weekend, I spent Saturday at the lake with OfficeMate and some of his friends and had a grand old time. It's amazing how social interaction can instantly make you more optimistic.

A friend of mine at UVA sent me an article about how difficult it is for 20 and 30 somethings to make friends here. A lot of people who move here in my age demographic are actually quite likely to move away due to the lack of friends. You can read the article here. Roanoke is a town of families, not so much for the youngin's like myself. I tried to befriend the girl at the library who hooked me up with my library card, and I think I frightened her. Perhaps I was to forward? I feel like I'm living the movie, "I Love You, Man." Making friends sucks, officially. But, I will not be brought down. Si se puede. I can make friends. One day at a time.

Until then, I intend on making long drives to visit old friends from college. I am now two for two on my weekends.

The Lake
Okay, so the lake here is fascinating to me. Smith Mountain Lake is, first off, huge. It's 32 square miles with 500 miles of shoreline. It's average depth is 55 ft. (Thanks for the stats, Wikipedia!) This thing is enormous. What gets me, though, aside from it's size, is that it's man-made. Around the 1920s, people were like, "Hey, we should have a lake here!" and by the 1960's, an entire valley had been flooded to create this lake. So, underneath the lake are trees, houses (probably some dead bodies, who knows?) and things of that nature.
The whole thing is so bizarre to me. Out of this lake, random mountain tops just appear. It gets super deep impressively fast, and I couldn't help worrying about kicking a tree the whole time I was swimming in there. Impostor lake.

But it is beautiful.

I took many photos, and went to upload them (along with various other photos I've taken since I've been here) only to discover the I left my cable at my parents' house. Sorry internet. I'll post photos as soon as I can. Until then, make do with whatever Google Images gives me.

Work, the whole reason I theoretically have this blog..., is scary. We sit down at staff meeting and I hear about my coworkers raising thousands of dollars with a few phone calls, progress being made from every angle by everyone, and I just feel like I'm falling behind. I haven't raised thousands of dollars. I found out my enormous two-weeks-of-work spreadsheet has been rendered obsolete, and I'm just generally disillusioned. I know I'll have good days and bad days, but today was rough.

However, and I hate to be vague on this, but vague I must be, after work some very exciting events went down, and I am crossing my fingers for some non-work-related activity to go my way.

The Penguin Club. While creating a list of local civic organizations, I came across the Penguin Club. Not knowing what this was, I googled it, much like I did with the Order of the Moose. A Google search will take you to Club Penguin - some Disney channel creation where, I think, you make a penguin avatar and make friends. I think the internet is trying to tell me I need friends. I still don't know what the Penguin Club is...

Sorry about the general pessimism, amigos. It's rough coming back after a three-day weekend.