A Cold 2011

Hello and welcome to the new year. Yes, I do realize it's been in full swing for the past four days (five days? Goodness, when did it get past midnight?), but I am just now getting around to acknowledging it.

My Christmas was fantastic, full of family and food. I completed a sizable grant and then rang in 2011 in Philadelphia with some extended family, and we had a grand old time.

Going back to my parents house, however, also meant spending Christmas in a frozen tundra. My parents keep their house at like 67 during the day and, I kid you not, 57 at night. It's awful. My apartment is kept warmer than my parents house and I technically am living in poverty. I don't care if keeping your thermostat low is good for the environment, it's bad for your health. And I don't just mean your mental health, although that takes a toll when your parents lock their thermostat, forcing you to live at their tundra-like temperatures. I mean your physical health.

Yes, I am convinced that this cold I now have is a result of changing from a toasty, comfortable living environment to one in which you are consistently reminded that you can "put on another sweater!" Why do I need to put on a SECOND sweater when I already have one on? Presumably, on top of a shirt that has a camisole underneath it? True story: I've worn a winter coat at the dinner table in the past.

It doesn't make sense. My parents are not large people, they should be cold in their house. Hell, my mother was raised in Venezuela. Her blood shouldn't be accustomed to the arctic temperature of her house, and yet... she insists its the proper thing to do. So we all must suffer. Nothing says Merry Christmas like the phrase "Merrr....rrrrr...yyyyy....Christ.....ma......aaa....ss."

I found myself back in Roanoke Sunday afternoon, sick. I went on an adventure to CVS with OfficeMate to pick up some nasal spray and cold meds that ended in me stepping in dog poo, thinking it was dirt and wiping it away with my hand, only to realize it was not dirt, and cursing people who are too damn lazy to pick up after their dog. HONESTLY. Are you low on plastic bags?? I'll donate some to you!

These past few days have been rather hazy. I've had all the DayQuil the box lets me take. My nasal spray said I shouldn't take it for more than three consecutive days, and I must lament to tell you all that I have reached the third day. I'd ignore the label, but I don't want to become that girl who's addicted to huffing generic brand nasal spray. She's just not classy.

I tried to inaugurate my penguin humidifier (the one pictured is legitimately the model I have), but alas, our apartment is old and I only have one plug in my room. It's next to my bed and my penguin's cord is short, so he really just blows all his humidity on the side of my bed. Tonight, I try a friend's suggestion - a loaf pan of water on my radiator.

I know, blogging about a cold is just so riveting. Alas, my life isn't super happening. That being said, I don't get sick too often. In some twisted I-don't-live-somewhere-super-exciting way, this IS riveting.

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.