My First Sunburn (and other 4th of July Pasttimes)

No, not my first sunburn ever, but my first sunburn in nine or ten years. I generally pride myself on being able to throw on some SPF 15 or 25, and being good for the rest of day. That's generally a good enough coating for my semi-latina skin to develop a nice, sun-kissed glow.

So today when I left to go tubing, I did just that. I slathered on some oil-free 15 (some 100 on my face - we don't want wrinkles, ladies!) and figured I'd be good to go for the day. A group of five ladies and myself hopped on our tubes and started our fourish hour trek down the river in Natural Bridge.* While everyone else constantly reapplied their SPF 50, I said no thanks and silently thanked my latin genes for keeping me from burning.

About hour three, I began to feel hot. By hour four, I noticed my thighs were looking a little red. By the time we got out of the water, I knew my legs were goners. By the time we got back to Granny's and I changed out of my swimsuit, I knew that a sunburn this bad had not happened since 2002 in Venezuela. Congratulations, Natural Bridge, your sunlight did in one day what the Canary Islands sun could not do in an entire week back in 2009. When I got back home, I slathered on the aloe vera, cranked up my little AC unit and just stood on a stool in front of it. I don't know what else to do. I'm considering a bag of frozen peas for each leg and maybe I'll just sleep in the freezer tonight. True story, I took two precautionary advil. So if you happen to see someone around that looks like me, but a lobster, that's just me, looking like a lobster.... for the first time in almost a decade. I am shamed.

In other news...
My wonderful parents (plus the pooch) came down on Thursday so that The Car Whisperer (Hi, Dad!) could take a look at Mr. Merlot. My father, by some miracle, was able to fix the car without even having to replace the starter (although, he had one ready just in case). However, this was not before he mentioned the car might have permanent electrical damage which caused me to burst into tears over the thought of having to spend that much money on a car again (I'm looking at YOU, living stipend!). All for naught, though! For now, Mr. Merlot is fine and up and running. Knock on wood.

We spent Friday hiking and grabbing some grub. Saturday was spent at the Farmer's Market ($1 eggplant, I kid you not!) and then the lake with OfficeMate and his parents. Today's venture to Natural Bridge has completed my outdoorsyness for a few days, at least until this burn turns into a tan or peels off. Yeah, yeah enjoy that lovely visual.

For now, though, I'll just nurse this burn and continue to motivate my skin. "You lasted so long without a burn, you've got this! Just turn it into a tan and I'll be sure to reapply from now on! We had such a good system going, why did you turn on me? Water under the bridge! Just heal! I'll keep giving you aloe vera and advil!"

Happy Fourth of July! I'm two of the colors on the American Flag! All three, if you count how blue my heart is after this sunburn.

*The tubing was lovely and relaxing. I enjoyed being able to lay out in the sunlight, let the current take my tube and I, and just absorb the (damn sunlight) lovely views of the surrounding mountains. No photos available because I love my camera and iPhone.

Messing With a Broke-Broke.

Yes. Mr. Merlot is being a gold digger again.

I... I don't even know where to begin. I treat him with love and respect. I get him oil changes every 3,000 miles. I offer him emotional support ("C'mon Mr. Merlot, you can make it up this hill!"). I waxed and vacuumed him the other week, I even bought him a new T for his front when I was visiting my folks recently. And yet, he's never satisfied. When I first got him, he became all worked up about needing a new catalytic converter. I sighed, wrote the check, died a little bit inside for my checking account, and he was happy. I also bought him a brand new battery. Now, ten months later, he's wanting more. Kids these days - they're never satisfied with anything.

Yesterday, it took a few tries to turn him over to A) get to work B) leave work and C) get home from Dick's Sporting Goods. (At least he got me home and didn't leave me near a sporting goods store) When I went to go to work this morning, taking separate cars from OfficeMate because I had to come home in the afternoon for a phone interview, all Mr. Merlot would do was click. No turning over. Click. Click. Click. Every click was another hairline fracture to my heart.

So he was left at home, and we carpooled in. After coming back and then having my phone interview (I honestly do despise interviews. The whole process makes me unfathomably nervous. Just take my word for it, I'd be a good fit for the position!), we went out to see what we could do for that car. We tried jumper cables, to no avail. I called my on-call mechanic (Hi, Dad!) for phone support who walked me through some things (I now know where my starter is located), and we've deduced that Mr. Merlot needs a new starter.

Do you hear that sound? That's the sound of my wallet wailing. I haven't gone to the dentist in like two or three years, but my CAR needs more money put into him. Absolutely, that makes sense. I guess Mr. Merlot was feeling left out because OfficeMate's car got a new battery this weekend, and Mr. Merlot wanted something new, too. Goodness, he's always needing to be the center of attention. For the next few days, I shall be chauffeured around by OfficeMate to and from the office. I'm moving up the social ladder in Roanoke - I don't even have to drive myself around.

In other news, not related to my complaining about my Gold Digger of a vehicle, I did in fact have a phone interview today. This means that I have done something right in the world of job hunting, and hopefully will empower me to keep on keeping on in this department.

Also, as many of you read on the Book of Faces, I have indeed surpassed the $100,000 mark in my grant revenue. I recently found out that two proposals I assisted in writing back in February ended up winning $93,000, so that puts my grand total over the $120,000 mark. I feel so legit! You better believe I worked that into today's interview.

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.

In the words of Petula Clark, CALL ME!

I very much dislike spending money, as you can probably tell from my miserly budgeting post. In college, I had friends talk me into spending over $25 on a pair of jeans on various occasions. I prefer to save my money for exciting food expenses, like a new cheese or a fun bottle of Spanish wine (which, yes, I bought the other week. I'm saving it for a special occasion). Buying Mr. Merlot was a huge accomplishment for me that was accompanied with various headaches and moments of hesitation.

However, when Verizon got the new iPhone, it didn't take much convincing on my brother's behalf before I caved. At one point in his persuading, I said, "Come on, at least let me think it over," and he said, "Whatever, you know you'll end up ordering one by the end of the day." That's exactly what happened.

This is my old phone. Yes, I am well aware of just how ghetto it is. This phone, along with looking sad, had a plastic cover inside that was coming off. Sometimes, it would just shut itself off when it was mad at me. Other times, it got temperamental about texting and would only accept them if i hit the "end call" button twice and then went to my inbox. Most fourteen year olds I know, or see, had nicer phones than me. But I was okay with that, generally, because I liked being on Verizon and I didn't like any of their other phone options. Regular phones were ugly and expensive for what they were. I'm not a huge fan of the Droid. The only Blackberry that truly appeals to me is the Torch, and that's on AT&T. So I waited.

And then Verizon got the iPhone. Oh, the iPhone. So within one day of Verizon offering it, I had ordered it. A few days and frustrating phonecalls with UPS later, I had it. It really is glorious. I've synced my personal calendar and my work calendar, I woke up this morning, and was able to read the news INSTANTLY from my NPR news app. I, of course, have Angry Birds, which OfficeMate has been playing more than me. I no longer have to be embarrassed by my phone - I can take it out with pride!

What is depressing is acknowledging just how old Maccy, my computer, has gotten. His software is too old to handle the latest version of iTunes, which is what you need to make the iPhone function. At least I live with someone whose computer can handle what mine can't.

I know what you're thinking. "MV, you make zero money. How are you affording this?"

I'll tell you how. 1. My friendly savings account. Happy you've-had-bad-phones-since-you-were-17 gift to ME! 2. The phone itself is really what's pricey. Adding a data plan to my current cell bill isn't that horrendous. It's actually incredibly do-able. Once I finish with VISTA and hopefully find myself with a salary and benefits, it'll be a drop in the pond of expenses.

On a side note, poor Mr. Merlot was backed into today while we were running errands. (We being me and my car, of course.) The man was very apologetic and we exchanged information, but I became very aware of how protective I am of my little car. I wasn't so much angry that he busted my rear bumper as I was sad that my car, my new years resolution of five years, was hurt. I know my car's not the best and shiniest, but I am awfully attached, much more than I was with any car I drove in high school. Here's to emotional attachment to inanimate objects. I know he loves me back.

(I'm fine. It would be a stretch to even call it a fender-bender.)

Budgeting - Part II

So last time we had a rant about money. How about we legitimately discuss budgeting this time around?

In my budget, I like to have my annual income right there, front and center, no matter how much it may make me cry every time I see it. Poverty is poverty, and there's no denying it. I then break it down to monthly income, and go from there. I'd give you guys a nice snapshot of my excel sheet, but you have no need of knowing how much/if I put anything into my savings. (generally that's negatory, ghost rider) Then I just break it down by category. For about two months, my spreadsheet was itemized and placed in each category, with a nice relating pie chart so I knew what percentage of my cash was going where. As of since, I've become slightly less anal-retentive and slightly more lazy, but I still enjoy having a general idea of where I can cut back.

Food
My brother called me up the other day, asking me how much I spent on groceries. I mastered grocery shopping in college, trying not to spend over $30 a week at the Harris Teeter. I can proudly say that, shopping for two, my grocery bill is now rarely over $50 a week. I don't eat many things I'd like to - chevre (good Lord, an assortment of cheese in general), a solid Spanish chorizo, I cook with much more vegetable oil rather than olive oil, and I have close to no herbs in my cupboard.

This is, hands down, the category I am most proud of. Because OfficeMate and I split our food bill 50/50, I generally don't spend more than $125 a month on groceries. The extra $25 comes from things I don't need, persay, but don't expect OfficeMate to split with me, such as coffee, wine and crystallized ginger (let me have my one unnecessary expense). I only purchase wine when I'm in Northern Virginia, where I can stock up on bottles of Three Buck Chuck. I only drink wine with dinner, really, and have saved a ton of money on that as a result. No, it's not classy wine. Yes, far superior wine exists. No, I cannot afford that. Yes, I am content with my $3 bottles.

Also, and this is something that seems like such a no brainer, but I never even bothered with in college, plan your weekly menus based on what's on sale that week. I am a HUGE dork and signed up for the Kroger coupons that they email to you. From there, I scour what's on sale that week and look up recipes accordingly. And if bread's on sale for $1/loaf, don't just buy one. Grab four or five, even if your roommate mocks you, and shove 'em in the freezer. Then you don't have to worry about bread for a while. I only buy meat on sale, and get it in huge quantities to separate into smaller bags and then freeze. While some weeks your grocery bill may sky rocket to $70 because you bought a ton of meat, the next week it'll be significantly lower because you won't have to buy any.

Let's not forget to take into consideration that we eat the AmeriCorps VISTA lunch of champions on a almost daily basis - Peanut Butter and Jelly. But you know what? We mix up the snack on the side! Chips, pretzels, fruit, cheez its. It's not super thrilling, but my bank account's a fan. Sometimes I go crazy and have leftovers for lunch. (Free frozen Olive Garden helps, too)

When you break it all down... $200/month for food for two people. $100/month per person. $25/week. $3.57/day. Not too shabby.

Gas
Sharing an apartment with a coworker has been fantastic for an array of reasons, but one of the big ones is how much we're both saving on gas. When I first moved here, gas was a glorious $2.34/gallon. It's on the rise and is now hovering around $2.90. When I was in Northern Virginia over Christmas, I paid well over $3.00, so I do understand your pain, rest of the world. As a result of forced carpooling, though, I only fill up Mr. Merlot about twice a month, so long as I don't visit the family. Each fill up now costs me around $30, so I only shell out about $60/month to get around town. I highly recommend carpooling - it's a win-win for your wallet and the environment! If you can't carpool, look into public transit, especially if you're in an urban area. Between gasoline, tolls, and parking fees, it sometimes becomes more cost efficient to suck it up and take the bus. It's not just for plebeians anymore, I promise. Plus, you get sweet built-in reading time!

Car Expenses
I was incredibly hesitant about buying a car because while I knew I could handle the cost of gas, I had no idea what to truly expect for all the other costs.

Insurance in this town is gloriously low. Yes, my car is registered here as a result. Plus, you get all sorts of discounts if you pay online, all at once, etc etc. As a result, insurance isn't too horribly painful. What IS horribly painful, however, are those unexpected car costs. Such as when I first purchased Mr. Merlot and his check engine light kept coming on, and I was quoted a quarter of the cost of the damn car to fix the problem at hand. Thank goodness for second opinions. That still set me back, though. This is why I put away chunks of change, no matter how small, every month into the savings account. Because when your car decides to become a princess, you have to be ready to shell out the cash. I ain't saying he a gold digger....

Now I'm dealing with the wonders of tires, state inspections and oil change #3578635. Again, family, you best appreciate my driving home. I wouldn't reach 3k miles so quickly if I wasn't always on I81. Happy New Year, indeed.

Rent
We live in a super cheap apartment. We don't pay for water or heat, either. Granted, our windows spontaneously break, we have a trashbag taped over another window, I can't make tea and dry my hair without the entire apartment losing power, and I think our bathtub is a generic, falling apart bathfitter. However, these are all things I'm okay with, considering the amount we pay for rent.

Utilities
Electric and Internet/TV. Electric's not SO bad, all things considered. Internet/TV we opted to shell out a little more for, because, hey, it's cheaper to stay at home and watch tv than pay money to go out. It's sad and a little hermit-ish of us, but it's true. When you make/don't make as much as we do, you have to take things like that into consideration. The utilities are far from stretching the cash.

Entertainment
Here's the most depressing category of all. This is generally a category where people put in things like "movies" or "eating out." I have gone to the movies once since I've come to Roanoke. I eat out, MAYBE, once a week. And it's generally something classy like McDonald's or Wendy's. ...or my burrito joint. My lack of a social life, while depressing, is very cost-effective. I honestly could never afford to live on what they pay me if I went out to eat at a $15/head place once a week. Because that comes out to $60/month on eating out, and that just seems like irresponsible spending. So you have to get creative. VT hockey games are $5/each. The library is FREE (thank God). Mooching off of your roommate's parents Netflix account to stream movies is also free. Did I mention I read a lot?

When people come to visit, you show them the star, maybe the puppy store in the mall, and then they just chill at the apartment. My parents were in town this past weekend and, along with chilling at the apartment, we visited antique stores with merchandise we could never afford. But hey, looking is free and entertaining! Anyone need a suit of armor for $350?

Health/Beauty
I steal toilet paper from my parents. This is a true confession. Whenever I go back to their house, I nab another six rolls of Costco's finest. I have yet to purchase a roll of TP since I moved to this apartment in October. Similarly, roommate's mother gave us some cleaning supplies when we moved in. I've yet to purchase dish detergent.

Before moving, I stocked up on things I knew I'd need but wouldn't be able to afford for a while. Toothpaste, contact solution, shampoo, razor refills. Things like make-up I find I use less and less, because I'm aware of my snooty make-up preferences and know I can't afford them anymore. (Mac pressed powder, I love you so!) I mean, I still wear make-up, just less of it. We're down to powder, blush and mascara on a daily basis. Any more than that, and it's unnecessarily fancy.

Health. Goodness. I'm running out of contacts, but fear the optometrist. Maybe I'll just start wearing my glasses all the time. I haven't been the dentist since, like, 2008, no joke. I fear a cavity. I can't afford that right now, so I just won't go and will get more serious about flossing. When I had my cold last week, I did splurge on some meds. But hey, a volunteer's gotta do what a volunteer's gotta do. I dislike this category, because it forces me to acknowledge that, much like my car needs an oil change to function, I need corrective lenses and a full set of teeth. ...I'm just more likely to give Mr. Merlot oil before I'll give myself a cleaning.

Savings
Poor Savings Account. He had a rough 2010. I had been such a good saver until last year. I bought a car, had all the pesky expenses that come with moving, and had a large chunk of cash stolen when some asshole felt my money should be his. Savings Account had to step in and pick up Checking Account's according slack. Ever since all these unfortunate events, I've been trying to replenish him, but it's slow going. Many a pay period goes by that I don't get to transferring funds, and that's not something I'm proud of, especially because I know it could be done. He still gets a cell in Excel, though, because I know I OUGHT to be putting something in there on, at least, a monthly basis. No matter how minimal.

I don't live lavishly, that's for sure. I spend the majority of my money on rent, food and my car. I'm aware of this. But these aren't things I can really cut back on anymore. I tried applying for food stamps (now known as SNAP) a few months back, only to discover that there's a cut-off if you have X-amount in savings. And trust me, it doesn't have to be much. I'm far from rolling in the big-bucks here. The flaws in the system aggravate me so much - it's like they WANT to deter people in poverty from saving, because if they do, they're not eligible for SNAP. It's such crap, and irritates me to no end.

All that being said, it is very possible to live off what they pay me. Live off, but not plan for anything else. I'm finding saving to be incredibly difficult. If I had children, I'd probably be eligible for WIC, but I'd still have more mouths to feed, and that's not even taking into consideration clothing, toys, or the cost of saving for higher education. Poverty as a single adult with no one else to provide for is do-able. I can see how poverty in a family becomes such a generational problem so quickly, though.

Things I'm Thankful For (in general, and while ill)

Thanksgiving has come and gone. I spent the holiday with family in Philly, after many hours of sitting in a car. There was much food, more wine, and overall quality family time. I am so thankful for such a phenomenal family, honestly. Alas, reality does not lie in Philly, and I had to return to Roanoke this morning.

Now, while speaking of things I am thankful for, let me explain that I awoke sick this morning. We're talking worshiping the porcelain god, clammy hands, no appetite sick. (No appetite is the tell-tale sign of my illness.) Ergo, I am thankful for the following:

Mr. Merlot, who returned me to my abode in Roanoke in one piece, to reunite me with my electric tea kettle and my taco-shaped bed.
My Taco-Shaped Bed, who embraces me every night and is ever-so-soft.
My Tea Kettle, who, every night, makes me some chamomile, and every morning heats up some H20 for my french press. He is currently assisting in my tea consuming endeavors.
Garrison Keillor, for knowing that in the last leg of my trip, what I needed to hear more than anything was A Prairie Home Companion. Thank you.
Glasses, for allowing me to see without the hassle of contacts.
My Yoga Pants, for being the best pair of pants a girl could ask for. I apologize for never doing yoga in you anymore, and really only wearing you to eat and sleep.

Hopefully I won't have to use a sick day tomorrow. Although, sleep would probably help this whole illness thing. Come on, body, fight this!

A Thank You

Today, I stabilize my living situation. Tonight, I sleep in a place I can call my own for the next 12 months. Tomorrow, I won't have to pick my clothes out of a suitcase (let's be honest here, it's a hiking backpack).

However, in all this tumult of the past two months, I have found the best two people in the valley. I found two people who took me in at my time of need, who fed me, and who went above and beyond what I requested of them. They, more than anyone else, made Roanoke feel like home to me. My Refugee Parents have included me in family activities, ask me how my day is (This is asked, without fail, every single day. I'm always fascinated), and supplied me with fantastic company and riveting stories. I am beyond thankful.
I'm excited to be living somewhere stable, but I'm honestly rather bummed that I have to leave my refugee camp - I've grown quite attached.

Here's to phenomenally good-hearted people. Here's to sunny October Sundays for moving. Here's to packing up Mr. Merlot and moving in Roanoke for the third and final time.

Cupholders, and the cars they're attatched to

When I was eleven years old, my goal in life was to have cupholders in a car. Our 1986 Taurus station wagon did not have cupholders, and I thought that was the obvious pinnacle of car ownership. For what else could you possibly want a car? Moving around? Psh, that's nonsense. Unless you need to move your cups.
So, I can now proudly announce to you, internet, that I can now move my cups.

I am a car owner!

His name is Mr. Merlot Mobile, and he is a 2002 Toyota Corolla. A burgundy Corolla, thus the name, which was inspired by my lovely sister. He has low mileage, was an incredibly reasonable price, all his maintenance checks out, and most importantly, he has cupholders. Actually, Mr. Merlot has the ability to hold four cups at once, because he's just that good at multitasking. Hopefully Mr. Merlot and I will spend many happy years together, toting around cups and other similar joyous activities.

I cannot fully express my gratitude to my father who sat with me every single horrendous step of this process. From looking at awful cars, to giving me pointers on insurance, to even coming with me to the DMV this morning to register the damn thing, my dad has been there every step. So if you are lucky enough to know my Dad, please congratulate him for being incredibly patient and helping his daughter buy a car.

This means that my next step is fast approaching.
In a week, I move to Roanoke. As in, drive down with Mr. Merlot full of crap, parents in tow with a UHaul, and move everything in. Then I come home for a few days, peace out to my conference in Atlanta, and then in about two weeks, I start full-time as an Americorps volunteer! Brace yourself Roanoke, Mr. Merlot and I are on our way.

Note: I have given up on a fake name for my town. Had you googled stats for southern VA cities, you could have figured it out easily enough. That, or you know me and where I'm going anyways.

Car Hunting

A quick update from the Car-Hunting-World.

It's ugly here. The things I have seen frighten and worry me. Cars held together with coat hangers, my father test driving a manual car after he hasn't touched one in over six years, dysfunctional windshield wipers in a rainstorm, a severe lack of functioning AC, and angry wives and girlfriends of mysterious car posters on Craigslist.

I'll be back soon enough with more details about the hunt, but right now I just fear that I am in way over my head. Also, I would like to give my champion of a father some major props for coming with me to look (and test drive) every single one of these masterpieces. It takes some serious courage to drive some of these cars.

Post One!

Background:
I graduated from a small liberal arts school in the Hampton Roads area of Virgina this past May with a degree in political science. Like all good political science majors from small liberal arts universities, I am idealist, assume the best of everyone and, as my brother frequently reminds me, I am "plagued by white liberal guilt." Ergo, when I began the epic post-grad job hunt of 2010 and was being consistently turned down by all the nonprofits in DC (yes, every single one of them), I turned to Americorps. Actually, a good friend suggested I look into it, and next thing I knew I had applied to about 15 various positions. A few weeks later, I had a phone interview, then a Skype interview, and then a job.

I was so excited the I fled the state for three weeks to live with six cats and two dogs. No, really. But that's completely irrelevant.

An important fact about Americorps - they pay you a stipend. There's no big fancy salary or things like healthcare plans that allow me a weekly massage and acupuncture session. The feds pay us volunteers what is acknowledged to be the bare minimum one can live off of in that particular area. Without disclosing to the world how much I'll be living off of, rest assured that the feds are not wasting your money on hefty Americorps stipends.

So here I am, with about a month to go until my big move, and I'm getting everything in order.

To Do:
Find a Roommate/Apartment
This has, hands down, been one of the most mortifying experiences of my life. I've used Craigslist in the past for various things, namely checking out the garden section for amusing information regarding farm animals while I was procrastinating on papers in college. Or the free section. Who doesn't need a rusting crib?
But this apartment hunt has been the first time in my life I've ever had to really use Craigslist. I found myself checking multiple times a day to see if anyone had felt the need to post a listing that said "MV! This is the perfect place for you! We're friendly and cheap and not in an area of town where you need a gun to shoot people/raccoons!" Tragically, this ad seems like a pipedream. I emailed various ads hoping they'd never respond. I'm sure the majority of these people are genuinely nice, but it just felt so sketchy. I wanted someone nice and normal, and that seemed to be too much to ask. My personal favorite, though, was the man simply asking for biweekly conjugal visits and, in exchange, he'd graciously pay your rent. Classy.
At the moment, I have my fingers crossed that this one promising situation works out. Here's hoping!

Buy a Car
My history of cars is not a lengthy one. I learned to drive in my parents' oh-so-epic 1986 Ford Taurus station wagon. Yes, you know the one. The one with the trunk that converted into two backwards-facing seats that always guaranteed carsickness. It was gray and lovingly referred to as the Hearse or the Clunker. When it stopped passing Virginia state inspections and Purple Heart wouldn't even accept it as a donation, it made its way to the parking lot in the sky. However, having learned to drive in such an automobile should leave you all assured that I can drive tanks, no problem.
High school was a combination of a 1993 Ford Escort with those oh-so-convenient seatbelts that functioned on their own whenever you shut or opened your door, and a 1996 VW Jetta that worked when it wanted to and was considered the "sport" edition due solely to the people on the patterned seats doing exciting things like biking and kayaking.
I never had a car in college, although I kept assuring myself I would buy one. Pesky things that loans are, it never happened. It was never a big issue, though. I lived within walking distance of campus, and at home I either took the bus or the metro to my internship over the summers. Now that I am moving somewhere where the bus only runs once an HOUR, I am finally prepared for the large expense. Hopefully. I'm holding out for a tape deck. No joke. Updates to come.

Move from Urban Area to Small Town with Trailers and Wildlife That Exceeds the Category of "Squirrel"
Here's the biggest hurdle for me. I try not to be, honestly, but I'm a bit of a snob. I love wine and if I had to choose how to die, it would be from a cheese overdose - chevre, if we have to get particular. It's not that I hate the outdoors - I enjoy running, and love a good hike or camping. The issue is that I'm an urbanite. I don't think that's a word, but it is now. My minor in English allows me to declare it as one.
I'm used to hopping on the bus or the metro to arrive at the nearest yuppie gathering and "oooh" and "ahhh" at all there is to behold. Farmer's Markets, sitting on sofas in Pottery Barns (because that's as close as I can get to buying one), wine festivals, yoga in the park, free samples at bakeries I can't afford, free sub-par music festivals... the list goes on, with most things starting with "free."
So the stipend isn't the issue for me. It's the "small town" aspect that's frightening to me. My hometown (DC suburbia) is home to slightly more than 200,000 residents. Where I'm moving is around 94,000. And that's the city. My actual place of employment is in a town with less than 8,000 inhabitants. No joke. That's like the size of my college.
I'm used to squirrels, and the most rabid animals I see are the dogs who get a little too friendly with mine at the dog park. Not deer, not bear, not raccoons. Ah, this'll be interesting.

So, if you'd like to see how an urbanite lives the cheap, yet snooty, lifestyle, on a stipend, in a small town, come back! It should be an interesting year.