road rage

I generally wake up in the morning in an excellent mood.  I love mornings, and savor the stillness in those early hours.  I'm awake, alert, and ready to start my day.  I make my bed, shower, eat breakfast, pack my lunch, and I'm out the door by 7:00 - usually singing along to whatever is on the radio.  But some days, something happens when I step into my vehicle.  Today was one of those days.

As I stepped into the car and started my commute to work, I felt something start to boil.  I was using one of our State fleet cars, so maybe that was where things started to go south.  Nobody cleans these vehicles, and to say they are disgusting on the inside is a dramatic understatement.  As I write, I am realizing that this is most certainly where it began.  I was annoyed that I could not put my coffee in the cup holder for fear of coating the outside of my prized coffee mug in an unidentified sludge, so I had to hold in between my legs.

I pulled out of our road and headed toward Williston on Route 2A.  About a quarter of a mile down the road, they've installed one of those radar machines that obnoxiously flashes your current speed despite the fact that you have a spedometer 10 inches from your face.  Anyway - just before I reach this gadget, going the requisite 25 MPH, another motorist decides that despite the fact that there is nobody coming behind me, she has to pull out in front of me so close that I have to slam on my brakes.  So through no fault of my own, I am now tailgating this person.  I am actively slowing down to create a safe following distance, when I look up and see her frantically waving her arms and pointing at the speed gadget.  She is telling me to slow down, because the speed limit is 25 and I'm tailgating her.  And now I'm taking driving tips from someone who probably pays a premium in car insurance each month because of her inability to judge when to enter the main stream of traffic.  Lovely.

Eventually, Call Me Maybe came on the radio and all seemed right with the world once again.  The point is, some mornings it's okay to have a long commute to work, because you need that period of time to get all of your crazy out before stepping into a functional work environment.  I encourage you to practice road rage to a certain degree, and hope you will all join me in raising a collective "brake check" to the tailgaters.  Maybe they end up rear-ending you, but I'm certain the satisfaction of getting out and saying, "Well you probably shouldn't have been riding so close when that puppy ran out in the road, huh?"  will be well worth it.

the fitted sheet: a tutorial

I'd like to state for the record that I hate folding laundry.  I'm not sure what the problem is, but for some reason once the laundry is clean and dry I would just rather keep it in a pile in the corner than fold things and put them away like an adult. Unfortunately, this is a task that I need to complete regularly in order to maintain the veneer of my grown up-ness.

The other day, during a particularly frustrated folding session, I happened to have washed two sets of queen sized sheets.  Now the size of the sheets is the first problem - it is exceedingly difficult to fold sheets that size on your own.  The second problem is that I'm far too precise.  When I fold the sheets, I want them to fit together in a neat stack in my linen closet.  Ladies and gentleman, folded fitted sheets were not meant to appeal to my personality type.  I tuck the corners, I line up the edges, I do the hokey-pokey and I turn myself about.  Each and every time I end up with a bundled mass

Since I'm alone 99% of the time, the only place for me to express my chagrin was Facebook.  I never expected the outpouring of support and camaraderie that followed.  I knew I wasn't alone - my fellow folding brothers and sisters rallied together to provide a range of advice and tricks for the task at hand.

Today, a week later, I am pleased to report that I folded my sheets with little to no trouble.  This historical milestone was made possible by the following set of instructions provided by Ms. Corinna:

1. Put your hands in two of the fitted corners and turn inside out 
2. Line up seams of corners and tuck one into the other 
3. Put paired corner on one of your shoulders
4. Repeat with the two other corners (Now the sheet is folded in half)
5. Repeat steps 1-3 (Now the sheet in in quarters.
6. Now you can make it into a nice rectangle and fold into desired shape.

eulogy.

I haven't updated since October, and I thought this would be a good time to start writing again.  This is the eulogy I delivered for my Aunt Charlotte today.  She was an absolutely incredible woman, and I will forever cherish her memory and all of the lessons she taught me over the years.

When I sat down to collect my thoughts to write this, I couldn’t believe how speechless I felt.  There are so many things to say about my Aunt, where do I even begin?  It had been such a rough few months for all of us who were close to her, and I needed to take a step back from all of that in order to truly remember who she was.  There were so many frustrating moments when we just pleaded with her to take it easy, and get some rest.  But we all knew that she wasn’t going to just sit idly by and wait for death to show up.  She was going to do as much as she possibly could, and eventually greet him at the door with a tray of apple bran muffins and a hand sewn quilt.  Looking back on her life, it’s really no surprise that Auntie had such a difficult time being taken care of, since she devoted so much of hers to taking care of others. 

Charlotte spent over a decade as a cook in the Weymouth High School cafeteria - always making sure the students were well fed, while simultaneously being certain to thoroughly mortify her daughter Jessica with her Dolly Parton costume on Halloween.  Her culinary talents were not exclusive to work though, as we all looked forward to her lasagna on Thanksgiving – and I don’t think I will ever eat a pancake as good as hers.

Charlotte cared for both of her parents during their respective battles with cancer, and eventually left her job with the High School to become a CNA, where should could continue caring for the sick and elderly.  She found no greater pleasure than in making a person smile who didn’t feel they had much to smile about – and she was really good at it.  That sense of humor was so infectious, and is something I will always cherish about her.

When she wasn’t working, my aunt loved to be outside.  Some of my favorite memories of her from childhood are fishing at Whitman’s Pond with my grandfather, and the many camping trips she took Jessica and me on.   Auntie loved to be outside in her gardens.  Aside from the beach, it was where she was happiest.  Just puttering around in her overalls relocating the tomato plants every 3 hours. 

Her duties as a CNA were cut short unfortunately, when she became ill and could no longer work.  Her fighting spirit remained strong, though – and she battled with her illness for several years before finally receiving a kidney and liver transplant in 2006.  She never recovered 100% from the transplant – but she took full advantage of the strength she had with various crafting and gardening projects, and eventually the creation of the infamous “Sex and the City” inspired diaper cakes for Jessica’s baby shower.  Overcoming adversity was Auntie’s specialty.  She never really had it easy, but nobody knew how to overcome and persevere quite like her.  She taught us to never give up – that there was never any option but to face your challenges and keep on fighting. 

In winter,  when she couldn’t be outside, she kept herself busy with various craft projects.  When I was a kid, nobody made a macaroni wreath quite like Charlotte.  She loved to sew and do needlepoint – and made most of our Halloween costumes over the years.  That creative spark will always stay with me. 

My aunt will live fondly in the memories of everyone who had the pleasure of knowing her.  For all of her tough talk, she was truly one of the most lovable people I will ever know.  She cherished her family more than anything, and always made sure we knew she was looking out for us – even when it drove us crazy.  She was always so proud of whatever we did – no matter how mundane it seemed to us.

But what I will remember most about my Auntie, even more than the sunlight filtering in through her windows on Sunday afternoons, is that she filled her home and the hearts of those everyone around her with love, good humor, and radiant warmth. 

This is the house that Jenna built.

Where to start?  It's been close to 3 months since I've written, and a lot has changed since then.  I finally found a place to live in August, and as the last remnants of summer fade away I'm finally feeling at home again.  I'll most likely be leaving again in January, but there's no need to be ready to run quite yet.

My new job is going well.  Like anything, it has it's good days and it's bad days.  Thus far the good days have far outnumbered the bad, but today just so happened to be a not-so-good day.  The position I'm currently in is temporary, which means come January I will either move into another temporary position, be offered a permanent position (unlikely), or find another job.  I've had a lot of difficulty facing the reality of the situation lately, and although I believe I have a good handle on things I can't help but feel a little disillusioned in the reality of job hunting.

I've spent my life building an education - I've spent countless hours in the library, reading, studying, and generally committing myself to the pursuit of an education that would help me lead a comfortable life.  More than any of that, I have spent my time ensuring that when the time came to find work, I would be doing something that not only suited me, but that I felt passionately about.  Today I came to the realization that progress may actually end when you enter the job market.  As soon as you settle into one position, it becomes increasingly difficult to move away from that.  You have a steady paycheck, you build relationships with your coworkers, and inevitably become very well qualified for the position you are in.  If you stay in one position for long enough, where is the opportunity for growth?

So this is the house that Jenna built.  The house that she built by reading the books that got her into the school where she met the people who helped her grow and have the confidence she needed to network with the people who gave her the job which makes up the foundation of the house that Jenna built.  I don't know where I'll go from here - but I know that like most home improvement projects, this probably won't ever be finished.

Listen to "Speechless" by Lady Gaga 

dear craigslist, get real.

So I've moved out of my apartment in South Royalton, despite the fact that I still have no place to go.  I've temporarily set up shop in my friend Bart's place while he's away for the summer, and while it's a really nice space, it's only about 100 feet closer to Waterbury than I was before.  Proximity is kind of an issue since I'm still driving a '99 Jeep Cherokee Sport... (22 mpg is good, but not great.) 

As the housing search continues, I have found myself more and more frustrated by the Craigslist forum.  First of all, the fact that Craigslist is the largest and most popular site for this kind of thing is lame.  What happened to variety?  There isn't nearly enough oversight on Craigslist for the amount of use it gets, and there are a few specific points I think they need to address.  Of course, for the sake of your entertainment, I've outlined them here.

1. Post photos of the apartment you're listing.  My time is valuable too, and I'm not going to take the time to come see the place unless I see a picture of it first.  I don't want to have to email you for the photo, because that also takes time.  I'm not lazy, I'm efficient, and I'd appreciate it if others would respect the efficiency. 
2. When you do post photos, post them of the inside. I'm glad you're showing me the outside of the place, but I don't plan on putting my shit on the front lawn, so I'm going to need to see where I'll actually be living.  
3. See that little box at the top that says "location?"  Fill it in.  You're right, Vermont isn't very big, but it's big enough for me to need to know where the place is.  Again, don't make me email you asking where it is - that's a stupid piece of information to leave out and it just makes me angry with you.

These three pointers could really make Craigslist a better place.  I spend enough time on there looking through listings.  In exchange for my time, well-written emails, and visits to various holes throughout the state, I think I deserve a little bit of proofreading before you click "submit."  

That being said, I'm back to the search.  Listen to "Shark in the Water" by VV Brown. 

adventures in calvi land.

There are a handful of feelings in life that just can't be beat.  One of my personal favorites, and the one I most commonly forget about, is finally crawling into your own comfy bed after extended traveling.  After two delayed flights, $8.00 airport mini-pizzas, a sassy parking lot attendant and a short nap on the car ride home, I was finally able to snuggle up at 3 a.m.  Then woke up 4 hours later for class.

Theo and I spent this past weekend in North Carolina, visiting a group of his friends from college.  The Blue Ridge Mountains are truly a sight to see, and we had a really stunning view from our cabin.  Overall an excellent weekend filled with delicious food, lazing around in a river, and getting to know some really great folks.

We also saw Montel Williams in the Newark airport on the way there, which was interesting.  We had an early morning that day as well, and so when Theo exclaimed that the man standing over near the Starbucks had a famous-looking suit on I just thought it was a failed attempt at humor.  In an effort to be supportive I looked over and, in an equally surprised tone, stated "Yes, that is Montel Williams."  We were apparently speaking louder than we thought, because soon after I made this statement people started checking their smartphones for photos and confirming that it was, in fact, Montel Williams.  One lady went over for an autograph... but I didn't feel compelled to meet him.

In case anyone was unsure of who Montel Williams is, this is a pretty decent photo of him.  He didn't look quite this sassy the other day, but his suit was just as dapper.

In other news, while running today I nearly hit a deer.  I was running along, just finishing my first mile and really getting into my audiobook.  I usually kind of zone out at that point, and was mid-daydream when I saw something moving to my right.  I did a double take and realized there was a decent sized deer leaping out of the trees in my direction.  I leapt out of the way, and in true deer fashion the stupid thing swerved right where I jumped.  I came within 2 feet of nailing this thing with my body.  Physically running INTO a DEER.  You just can't make this shit up.  Everyone survived the incident, but a word to the wise- be careful when running at dusk.  Bambi isn't as smart as Disney portrayed.

Thank god the skunk wasn't there, or things would have been a lot less funny and a lot more angrily soaking in tomato bath... a good blog topic, either way.

3 more days of class, and I will officially be finished with my Master's degree.  Pretty exciting, especially since I have a job that I will start on Tuesday of next week.  Now the tricky part... finding a new apartment before I have to be out of this one!

It's been a long day to say the least, and it's time for me to get some much needed sleep.  Listen to "I Feel It All" by Feist.

employment, squirrels & swear words.

The good news is, I got a job.  The not as good, but still okay, news is that I have no place to live after July 5th or so.  In other news, I'm pretty sure my landlord has beginning stage dementia (which is no laughing matter) and will not remember when he asked me to get out... so I could probably stretch this through the end of the month if necessary.

My friend Carol from Brazil left today.  She's been living in my two room apartment with me for the past three weeks, which has made for a few interesting moments.  One of my favorite highlights is when I remembered that in Brazil they don't flush toilet paper down the toilet, they throw it in the little trashcan.  I knew I had emptied the trash the day she came, and was baffled when I found it nearly overflowing with paper two days later.  I changed it again, and much to my dismay, it filled up just as quickly.  Needless to say we were both a few shades of red when I had to explain to her that our septic systems here in the U.S. are designed to handle paper waste.

Carol brought with her another harsh realization - I swear way, way too much.  She inevitably picked up on my bad habit, and when I took her to the balloon festival and she started dropping F-bombs in front of a family, I decided I need to make a change.  I use a lot of substitute swears (i.e. "holy buckets," "son of a bee sting," or "shut the front door")  but I still use the F word way too regularly.  I'll be making more of an effort from now on... but no promises.  I am the spawn of John Calvi, after all.  Here's a taste of what an interaction with him is like:
Me: "Happy Father's Day, dad."
John: "Oh, it's fatha's day? No fuckin' shit. They all just blend togetha. Anyway, how the hell've ya been?"

There is still a rather large squirrel getting into my trash.  I would just bring the trash inside, but it fills up rather slow and it makes my apartment stink.  I'd rather pick food scraps off the porch than walk into a ripe kitchen... so I guess I'm stuck.  The neighbor is having some trouble with a family of Gopher's, though, and she's been talking about calling some guy in town to come shoot them.  If he shows up, maybe he'll consider taking care of my rodent problem as well.  Yeah right, who am I kidding?  If he showed up here with a gun I'd throw myself on the Gopher hole to protect them.  Let 'em live, and plant your cabbage elsewhere.

Not much else to report.  Listen to "Home" by Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros.