As many of you know, I have been searching for a new place to live since my recently new employment at the University of Dubuque. Now, I'd ordinarily probably keep my little Belmont apartment, but with the crazy hours and days that I work, I'm getting rather sick of driving back and forth in the middle of the night. Do you have any idea how much deer and raccoon carnage there is going on during this season? Gross.
So, I've been pretty diligent in the last two or three weeks to put myself out there and truly search. I had been "searching" before that, but not very hard or for very long at a time...I can't say it's my favorite thing to do. And in the last few weeks, I have probably seen the best and the worst of what this ridiculous town has to offer. I have seen the downtown, the uptown, the west side, historic districts, the Point district, the Grandview district, college neighborhoods, and slums. I have seen one bedrooms, two bedrooms, a three bedroom, a warehouse, a studio, old houses, apartment complexes, duplexes, tri-plexes, four-plexes, and even a penthouse. I've talked with rehab project enthusiasts, general managers, kind old women, and a few jerks. And, I am sad to report, my thirst for a decent home has still not been quenched...not even close.
Well, I was close...twice. Once I was down on Main and witnessed my dream apartment being snatched out from underneath me as I was second in line for a lease, and once on South Grandview with the same outcome, only perhaps the place was a little less dreamy.
Oh, the stories I have for you my friends...
The first big shocker was seeing the warehouse. This place was not advertised. I just happened to call someone who had an availability down in the warehouse district...the up and coming sweet spot for the young professionals in the area (scoff). It was going for $550 a month and it was huge, 3000 square feet. I was impressed and perhaps a little delusional, so I asked to see it without asking any other questions.
We stood outside the place, in the agreed upon location for probably fifteen minutes or so before Handy Andy stepped out and asked if we needed any help. Nice. He graciously offered to show us the apartment. We went up some stairs to the second floor and he rolled open the big freight door. Wow, just like the movies... Inside we found a huge expanse of a room...the floors were warehouse floors, the walls, warehouse walls, the windows, old and rickety windows, just like a warehouse would have. Holy crap, this is a warehouse... The "kitchen," and we'll use that term lightly, was an olive green refrigerator with dents in the front and a basin sink that may or may not have actually been hooked up to running water. No stove, no oven, no cabinets, no counters... The "bathroom," an equally lose term, did indeed have three and a half walls around it. No door. A toilet, also olive green in color, and a tub. Both looked, much like the fridge, like they had been recovered from a landfill somewhere. Oh, did I mention there was no sink in there? The bedroom, and by this time, I was surprised to see an actually bedroom, consisted of three and a half walls, propped together, constructed out of plywood. No door, no windows. Only half of the apartment was heated, and I don't recollect any outlets per say...or lights? Maybe. I was a bit overwhelmed, creeped out, and disgusted that I had wasted my time. It was fantastic.
We, oh, and when I say we, I do mean me and Mom, who was with me for part of the excitement last week...looked at a place that we were convinced was a whore house. I'm still pretty sure it could have been. The owner was this really old lady who referred to all of her tenants as "girls." All the cars in the garage stalls were nice, new, and clean. And the building looked remarkably kept up on the outside. I've probably seen too many bad Lifetime movies about brothels in my day... The place was itty bitty, but from now until forever, regardless of its actual status, it will always been known as the whore house to me.
And of course, one of my biggest battles was with a lady I have been calling "Crabby Kathy." They own probably a million places around town, and all of their signs say, "Pets OK!" and a phone number. No company, no last name, always just Kathy on the phone. I called her sometime last week inquiring about some places. At first she didn't answer. Then she called me back, only to hang up on me half way through to talk with the Claims Court, and never call me back. I talked with her a few days later to try to set up an appointment and she said it would take a few days to get organized, that I should call back on Monday. I didn't. And on Tuesday, I didn't. On Wednesday this week, she actually called me, I was pretty amazed, only to ask me to call back on Friday morning to set up the official time and place that we would meet. Sure, it's not like I don't have a full-time job or anything, I can just come and go as I please...sheesh! So, this morning I call and left a message asking if I could see places at 9:00. She didn't call back until 10:00 and couldn't meet then, but she would call me. I requested not to call between 3:00 and 4:00 as I'd be in meetings. At 3:17 my phone rings. Nice. By now, I was actually done with my meetings, but I was pretty steaming mad. But Crabby Kathy said she'd have time "right now" to show me the places I was interested in. Sure, so I jump in my car and fly down Grandview...only to stand on the curb for nearly twenty five minutes. Really nice. And the best part? Crabby Kathy didn't get out of the car! Mr. Crabby Kathy, who never introduced himself, just got out of the Escalade (clearly making some good money in this business), and walked to the door, opened it, and then looked at me until I walked up to him. Seriously?
Needless to say, I still have no idea what I'm going to do about a place to live. And I'm pretty crabby myself in trying to sift through it all. Sigh. I'm this close (can't you see me in my flaily story style showing you my two fingers very close together?) to giving up completely and dealing with the drive until I calm down. And I'm even closer to just buying a house of my own (if only I had some credit!).
If anyone out there has any suggestions, now would be a really good time to share them...because clearly I am about the unluckiest person when it comes to hunting for a home. I could really use some help. Sigh...again. I cannot wait for this all to be over.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Unapologetically Optimistic
So, at work the other day, we had this professional development discussion revolving around three articles the president of the university had written throughout different points of the school developing in the last ten years. It was all about the mission and vision of the university and how we need to use that as our guiding statement(s) to reach the better, brighter future in which we are constantly striving.
Some had great points to point out, and some had questions to be questioning of, but some found areas to pick at, finding contradiction and maybe even controversy. I really have no problem with that. In fact, I found the whole conversation to be quite enlightening. After the formal conversation, I was still curious, so I roamed around the office, as I usually do, just continuing the conversations from where they had left off. I talked to those that contributed about as much as I did (which was nil) to see how they felt about the talk. And to my dismay, many were unhappy with the result. Some were frustrated, for others it was above their heads, others, perhaps, were just bored with it.
That was a very lengthy introduction for me to get to the main point. For me, I enjoyed the very thought of having a conversation about a Presbyterian, or Reformed, outlook and mission for our work. For me, I translate that to mean, I was created to do the work that I am doing. I was created to touch students' lives, to impact them directly, and hopefully to guide them toward wanting more for themselves...to want to do what they were created to do. That is, indeed, my very life goal, my mission on earth, and in my job, and in my personal life, and in my down time...it is who I strive to be.
The point was made, in frustration I believe, that "we're not there yet...we're not even close." But I would argue, doesn't it matter that we're striving to get there? Isn't there some positive motivation just knowing we're talking about it? True, we're not there yet. I've seen more road blocks and stumbling stones left in my path since I go here than in anything else that I've ever done. And I'm sure others see it the same way in what they do. But I'm not sure that the point is that it is easy. The point is, we're working toward something that's bigger than ourselves. And that is never easy.
The follow up conversation is one I have had many times with many leaders and passionate people. It was about the "us" versus "them." What I mean is, there are those of us that truly care, that work our hind ends off to do a little good, to try to make our impact on others in a positive way. And then there are them, those that are in it to get the paycheck, to do a job, and to go home. There are those of us that put in extra time, shed a few extra tears, and say a few extra prayers. And then there are those that show up late, leave early, and are rarely fruitful in their pursuits. For those that are the "us," life is not easy. It is a minefield that you are forced to clear with a hammer. It is a constant battle trying to create buy-in from others to jump on the hardworking bandwagon just because its good. It is a streak of insanity that won't let us quit, or slow down, or even take a breath. Often times people like "us" struggle with wanting to give up, desiring to be one of "them" because it is clearly easier and more peaceful in the here-and-now. But the moment we give up, the very instant we stop fighting, working, and caring, is the moment we become one of "them."
For a very short time, I became one of "them" at my old job. I became jaded, foul, and harbored a great amount of bitterness toward everything. I became lazy, complacent, and selfish. And I began to hate who I was. It wasn't self-rewarding, in fact, nothing about it felt good. I quit that job as soon as I could to remove myself from the situation and the people who had caused me to join "them," but the change actually had to come from within me, not from a change in my circumstances. I quickly came to find out that there are both teams everywhere, and "they" are always the bigger team. The fight will always be there to fight.
Knowing that, one of two things could happen. I could feel defeated, slump my shoulders, and convince myself that it is simply not worth fighting for... Or, I could be unapologetically optimistic, always looking at the brighter side, knowing that even if I am the only one fighting for "us," I am making a difference. I am changing people's lives. I choose the latter option. And I urge you, don't give up! Keep fighting! "They" can't win as long as "we" never give up.
Some had great points to point out, and some had questions to be questioning of, but some found areas to pick at, finding contradiction and maybe even controversy. I really have no problem with that. In fact, I found the whole conversation to be quite enlightening. After the formal conversation, I was still curious, so I roamed around the office, as I usually do, just continuing the conversations from where they had left off. I talked to those that contributed about as much as I did (which was nil) to see how they felt about the talk. And to my dismay, many were unhappy with the result. Some were frustrated, for others it was above their heads, others, perhaps, were just bored with it.
That was a very lengthy introduction for me to get to the main point. For me, I enjoyed the very thought of having a conversation about a Presbyterian, or Reformed, outlook and mission for our work. For me, I translate that to mean, I was created to do the work that I am doing. I was created to touch students' lives, to impact them directly, and hopefully to guide them toward wanting more for themselves...to want to do what they were created to do. That is, indeed, my very life goal, my mission on earth, and in my job, and in my personal life, and in my down time...it is who I strive to be.
The point was made, in frustration I believe, that "we're not there yet...we're not even close." But I would argue, doesn't it matter that we're striving to get there? Isn't there some positive motivation just knowing we're talking about it? True, we're not there yet. I've seen more road blocks and stumbling stones left in my path since I go here than in anything else that I've ever done. And I'm sure others see it the same way in what they do. But I'm not sure that the point is that it is easy. The point is, we're working toward something that's bigger than ourselves. And that is never easy.
The follow up conversation is one I have had many times with many leaders and passionate people. It was about the "us" versus "them." What I mean is, there are those of us that truly care, that work our hind ends off to do a little good, to try to make our impact on others in a positive way. And then there are them, those that are in it to get the paycheck, to do a job, and to go home. There are those of us that put in extra time, shed a few extra tears, and say a few extra prayers. And then there are those that show up late, leave early, and are rarely fruitful in their pursuits. For those that are the "us," life is not easy. It is a minefield that you are forced to clear with a hammer. It is a constant battle trying to create buy-in from others to jump on the hardworking bandwagon just because its good. It is a streak of insanity that won't let us quit, or slow down, or even take a breath. Often times people like "us" struggle with wanting to give up, desiring to be one of "them" because it is clearly easier and more peaceful in the here-and-now. But the moment we give up, the very instant we stop fighting, working, and caring, is the moment we become one of "them."
For a very short time, I became one of "them" at my old job. I became jaded, foul, and harbored a great amount of bitterness toward everything. I became lazy, complacent, and selfish. And I began to hate who I was. It wasn't self-rewarding, in fact, nothing about it felt good. I quit that job as soon as I could to remove myself from the situation and the people who had caused me to join "them," but the change actually had to come from within me, not from a change in my circumstances. I quickly came to find out that there are both teams everywhere, and "they" are always the bigger team. The fight will always be there to fight.
Knowing that, one of two things could happen. I could feel defeated, slump my shoulders, and convince myself that it is simply not worth fighting for... Or, I could be unapologetically optimistic, always looking at the brighter side, knowing that even if I am the only one fighting for "us," I am making a difference. I am changing people's lives. I choose the latter option. And I urge you, don't give up! Keep fighting! "They" can't win as long as "we" never give up.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
The Lost Year
It seems that every year at about this time, I tend to reflect on the year that has passed, once again, in a blur. There is just something about watching the landscape change so drastically that gets a person thinking about all of the changes in their own lives. The fields turn to a golden glow and quickly disappear through harvest. Trees turn a fiery red and yellow, and even smells of the season tell you change is on the way.
As I evaluate the year that has so quickly passed away, I honestly wonder what has happened. For the past few years, if you look back into old blog posts, journal entries, or conversations with loved ones, I have contemplated if life could go any faster. With every year that I grow older, time seems to only progress faster. But this year seems to have disappeared completely from the history books. Never have I experienced so much and remembered so little.
In the last year, I learned how to travel in Chicago, became a girlfriend, switched jobs, bought and put ten thousand miles on a new car, invested my money, experienced Shakespeare, planned an orientation and a homecoming, and worked myself crazy and exhausted. And I'm sure that so much more has happened besides this random sampling, but I'm not sure I can honestly remember it.
All of this insanity and breakneck pace begs the question, When does life slow down? When do you we truly get to stop and smell the roses or even stop to see them? I look ahead to the future and only see more of the same chaos that has been my life this year and wonder if I'll ever really savor it, enjoy it. I want to breathe life in deep and revel in the feeling of it in my lungs. I want to nourish the great loves of my life and let them well up in my soul to feel full and content. Where do I find that in the complexity of life? In the busyness? I know it is there, it surely must be. But this year, although wonderful and full of memories to enjoy, was almost lost in the shuffle of life.
I refuse to lose any more years. I want vivid years full of embraced joys not rushed requirements. I want a full heart not a full schedule. Next year at this time, I will not write another "lost year" post. Life is so short, a fleeting moment. I will live a life that is full of warmth, memories, joys, and loves.
Breathe life deep into your lungs and revel in the feeling of it in your lungs.
As I evaluate the year that has so quickly passed away, I honestly wonder what has happened. For the past few years, if you look back into old blog posts, journal entries, or conversations with loved ones, I have contemplated if life could go any faster. With every year that I grow older, time seems to only progress faster. But this year seems to have disappeared completely from the history books. Never have I experienced so much and remembered so little.
In the last year, I learned how to travel in Chicago, became a girlfriend, switched jobs, bought and put ten thousand miles on a new car, invested my money, experienced Shakespeare, planned an orientation and a homecoming, and worked myself crazy and exhausted. And I'm sure that so much more has happened besides this random sampling, but I'm not sure I can honestly remember it.
All of this insanity and breakneck pace begs the question, When does life slow down? When do you we truly get to stop and smell the roses or even stop to see them? I look ahead to the future and only see more of the same chaos that has been my life this year and wonder if I'll ever really savor it, enjoy it. I want to breathe life in deep and revel in the feeling of it in my lungs. I want to nourish the great loves of my life and let them well up in my soul to feel full and content. Where do I find that in the complexity of life? In the busyness? I know it is there, it surely must be. But this year, although wonderful and full of memories to enjoy, was almost lost in the shuffle of life.
I refuse to lose any more years. I want vivid years full of embraced joys not rushed requirements. I want a full heart not a full schedule. Next year at this time, I will not write another "lost year" post. Life is so short, a fleeting moment. I will live a life that is full of warmth, memories, joys, and loves.
Breathe life deep into your lungs and revel in the feeling of it in your lungs.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
You betcha, Joe Six-Pack!
Well, we survived it, and without any major train wreck. I can't claim I watched all of the debate, although that was tonight's intent. Phone conversations, Facebook, and homework all were necessary interruptions. But I think I got most of the main points. And I have to say I was a little surprised that Sarah Palin didn't end up falling on her face. She generally held her own on most topics, but then again, she just decided not to talk about the issues she didn't know anything about. I wouldn't go so far as to say that Sarah Palin "killed it...she was the lead..." as one of the analysts noted, but she also just didn't get killed as I think most of America was waiting to see happen.
So what does this mean for the future? I can't claim to know where this will fall, but I can say that I am extrememly interested to find out. What a time in American history to be around to remember. Someday, my grandchildren will look in their history and government text books in their high schools, and they will read about what I will be able to recall.
Although I still am not 100% on my vote (to the dismay of my parents that will vote one way, and my friends that will vote the other), either way, we...I will help make history. (I'm going to need to read up a little more and do some fact checking!)
So Sarah, you may be a moron, you may not stand for women's rights as some think you should, you may say things like Joe Six-Pack, You betcha, and Drill, baby drill!, but you go with your history-making self. And Joe, you go too...although you are not nearly as interesting. But I won't believe for a moment when Ferraro said that she didn't believe that VPs were really all that important in a presidential election decisions. You're kidding right? Maybe once this is all over, the votes are cast and there is a president in place, we'll look around and remember how unimportant we think they are...but tonight? I'm pretty sure the VPs are making a difference in people's minds.
So what does this mean for the future? I can't claim to know where this will fall, but I can say that I am extrememly interested to find out. What a time in American history to be around to remember. Someday, my grandchildren will look in their history and government text books in their high schools, and they will read about what I will be able to recall.
Although I still am not 100% on my vote (to the dismay of my parents that will vote one way, and my friends that will vote the other), either way, we...I will help make history. (I'm going to need to read up a little more and do some fact checking!)
So Sarah, you may be a moron, you may not stand for women's rights as some think you should, you may say things like Joe Six-Pack, You betcha, and Drill, baby drill!, but you go with your history-making self. And Joe, you go too...although you are not nearly as interesting. But I won't believe for a moment when Ferraro said that she didn't believe that VPs were really all that important in a presidential election decisions. You're kidding right? Maybe once this is all over, the votes are cast and there is a president in place, we'll look around and remember how unimportant we think they are...but tonight? I'm pretty sure the VPs are making a difference in people's minds.
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