Thursday, December 28, 2006

Empty Apartment Blues

Have you ever noticed that an empty apartment echoes?

The movers came today and took all my stuff away, packing (or repacking, in most cases since I never really unpacked to begin with) all my dishes and books and stuff into boxes and carting it off to some generic warehouse in Texas. I'm actually quite thrilled that they did it instead of me, though I have to admit I felt extremely guilty plowing through a book silently in my roommate's old room while they taped and moved out in the rest of the place.

But then they finished and my apartment is so quiet that it's downright noisy.

Seriously, in a place with no furnishings to absorb the sounds of everyday life, the tiniest sound bounces off every now exposed surface--the walls, the floor, the ceiling, the windows. It's almost like standing on the edge of a great canyon and tossing a pebble in, just to hear it click-click-clack all the way down and then the sound just floating over the void. Stuck in the air.

That's exactly what my apartment is like.

I called EJG and told her how depressing it was and she kindly told me I could escape to the Castle to snuggle with the cat and watch TV there (I had forgotten how difficult life without both TV and Internet can be). I may take her up on it.

I think what's most frustrating about moving is just that transition period when all your stuff is somewhere else and you're stuck living out of a suitcase or a car. Rationally, I know it's just stuff and you really don't need it to make it from day to day. But there is something very comforting about a mattress that already knows the contours of your body. Of a chair that's just perfect for reading. Of dishes you've used to serve friends in meals past.

Stuff, for some reason, is sometimes more than just stuff.

When we learned that my new company was going to pick up the tab for my upcoming cross-country move, my parents gave me several boxes of just such stuff from my old room at home. They cleaned out the room several years ago and boxed it all up for me to sort through once I landed somewhere a little more permanent. This apparently fit the bill.

As I started sorting through it, I realized most of it, I hadn't seen or thought about in years. I had forgotten I ever owned or used it, and now it was just stuff--sitting meaninglessly in boxes on my floor. I decided to just pitch it all. If I hadn't needed it up to now, why would I need it in Dallas?

Except when I told people--like my family, my best friend, even my best friend's mother--about the great pitch-a-thon, they recoiled. "You're just throwing it away?" (This led, of course, to some cleaner's guilt, and I have since rescued from the trash pile any photos from the stack as well as a few childhood memorabilia.)

Why do we attach ourselves so much so things--find comfort in stuff? Is it the things that are important? Is it the symbols of the things, the emotions and intentions behind them? Or just the memories attached to them? And if it is just the memories, why are we so hesitant to let the things go and savor the part we truly treasure?

I'll be the first to admit I've inherited my family's pack-rat gene. I hold on to stuff long past its expiration of usefulness. I'm not sure if it's the memories, or more the comfort of being surrounded by the familiar. I think it's this very reason that I begin to go a little stir crazy after about a week in a hotel--I begin to crave being surrounded by those little bits and pieces of me that I've collected and assembled. In some way, they are me. They represent the person I am.

Thank the heavens that this transition is a short one. With any luck, I will be settled in Dallas in just a short month and can once again surround myself with the familiar stuff. Mixing the old with the new. Makes the new just a little bit easier.

Sunday, December 24, 2006

Holiday Greeting

I may complain about Christmas music 24/7--but even I have my favorites. Merry Christmas, all, wherever you may be.

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas,
Let your heart be light
Next year,
All our troubles will be out of sight

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the yuletide gay
Next year all our troubles will be miles away

Once again as in olden days
Happy golden days of yore
Faithful friends who were near to us
Will be near to us once more

Someday soon we all will be together
If the fates allow.
Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

--Ralph Blane

Thursday, December 21, 2006

Bed hog

I'd gotten so used to sleeping alone.

Only a few short weeks ago, I woke one morning to find myself sprawled out diagonally across my bed--using both pillows. Once upon a time, I had a "side" of the bed. I didn't mind sharing, but even after that went on hiatus, I still found myself sticking to one side, wearing down the mattress in a Sarah-shaped dent. So I was surprised that after only a few months, the habit was broken.

But now... now the bed is shared again. Worse, with a bed hog. I had forgotten what it was like to fight for leg room; to wake up after being kicked or to the sound of deep sighs and light snoring.

And yet, there's something comforting about falling asleep knowing she's nestled comfortably down by my feet. Or waking up next to a furry face, staring up at me intently, hoping to see me open my eyes so we can take a walk.

Yes, she may be a bed hog, but it's good to have my dog back.

Monday, December 18, 2006

Music Bah Humbug

Ever since the power outlet in my car went kaput and effectively squelched my iPod usage, I've been forced to endure the radio on my long drives home. Driving through long, remote stretches of Indiana and Ohio, this can be an interesting adventure.

As I frantically searched for a station today on my drive, all I could find was... Christmas music.

Now, I like a good dose of Christmas music as much as anyone else. I'm a huge fan of the albums we listened to when I was a kid (one of which Gus wrote about a couple years back), and Manheim Steamroller has been a regular holiday staple for me. But exactly how many stations can survive playing nothing but Christmas music all the time?

Seriously, of the eight or nine stations I could get to come in around the Toledo area, at least four or five were all-X-Mas, all-the-time. (The rest were country, which didn't help the situation.)

So I may be a bit of a Scrooge--it's hard to get into the holiday spirit when it's 45 degrees and you're stuck in the car for six hours. And actually, I probably wouldn't mind getting a carol or two sandwiched between some JT or Kelly Clarkson. But nonstop Christmas?? From Thanskgiving all the way through December 25?? It just seems too much.

I'm switching to NPR.

(Handy station link compliments of a story from the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. More grousing about Christmas music can be found here, too.)

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Post-Grad Funk

And I don't mean the George Clinton type of funk.

I'm not really sure why or when exactly it started. I think sometime between when my family headed back to the hotel on Saturday and when I went out for a few drinks with my colleagues later that night, it descended on me like a sudden storm, blowing in unexpectedly and violently. I should have been ecstatic. With my degree in hand and a job officially accepted, there was not a single reason to not be on top of the world.

But I felt like crap.

I went out with friends on Saturday and just felt exhausted and irritated. I tried to pep up, had a few beers and played some darts, but the let down feeling wouldn't go away. When I got up the next morning, it was still shadowing me, following me around the apartment and festering in my morning cereal. When my roommate moved out later that day, all I could bring myself to do was to sit on the couch and stare at the wall. Even TV sounded repulsive.

I don't know if I can explain why I've been feeling this way. It's something akin to the Christmas hangover--so much build up for one moment that's gone in a flash and leaves you feeling empty and vulnerable. Except in this case, the build up was 15 months instead of one. And the frenzy was more than mad shopping and decorating, it was intense group meetings and exams and homework and readings and dollar burgers and more meetings and internships and job hunting and...

And now it's done.

Don't misunderstand me, I'm not disappointed. I'm not depressed. I have so much to look forward to in the coming months. It's just that closing one chapter sometimes takes the wind out of your sails a bit. Going from 150 miles an hour down to 35 in just one week is a bit of a shock to the system.

It has been comforting to talk to some of my classmates and hear that they are experiencing the same weird mood. Today I ran into a guy in my class--our top student, probably--and as we chatted, I mentioned how I was feeling to him. That I had been cranky and hard to deal with. He said he was feeling the same way. I've gotten similar reports from others.

And slowly, I'm coming out of it. Going to Dallas on Monday and Tuesday helped a little. Getting out of the house seems to do wonders for me, even if I'm just doing something lame like running errands. I have a feeling that if Casey dog were here, walking her would definitely do wonders for me, too.

The transitions in life are just so damn hard sometimes--even when they're good transitions. I almost wish life could be like that Staples commercial, where all you do is press the "Easy" button and poof! everything just magically falls into place as it should be.

Until that happens, I guess I'll just have to keep looking forward to all the excitement to come and know that whether they're easy or not, things will fall into place.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Word.

Thursday, December 07, 2006

Comcast is the Devil

I don't think I've ever had a more passionate dislike for company. We're talking fire of a thousand suns level dislike.

I first had problems with them when I was living in Virginia. I don't remember the details of the disagreement, but I do remember numerous frustrating calls with customer service representatives. At one point, the calls got so heated that they sent me over to the guy you talk to who doesn't want to "lose your business." We made it through that particular crisis.

But now... This one, I don't know if I can get over.

So when we moved into our last house in Evanston, we got digital cable. One of our housemates really wanted a DVR, but they were asking me for an $80 deposit, so I said no. Finally, a few months later, I gave in. The cable guy came out and swapped our digital box for a DVR box. End of story.

Except it wasn't. Because apparently the tech did one of two things:

1. Failed to file the paperwork that said the digital box came back.
2. Stole the damn thing outright.

I wasn't at home the day he swapped the boxes, so I didn't sign for it, one of my roommates did. And now, two moves later, I cannot find the work order receipt. And Comcast, the wonderful, family-friendly company it is, is convinced I am trying to screw them out of a digital box I don't have (and have NOT had for almost 8 months).

The customer service rep on the phone today had very little useful information for me--simply that they are doing "research" to find out what happened to the box. I asked her what the implications for me were. She said they were doing "research" to find out what happened to the box. I told her I know, I understood what she said, but what was going to happen if they couldn't find it. She said I was liable for it.

At this point, I lost it. She kept asking me if I had my receipt that showed the tech took it away, and I told her I didn't, that I'd moved twice since then. I asked her why they didn't have the receipt--since it is always a duplicate copy. She then explained to me that they have millions of customers and cannot keep track of all the paperwork.

Excuse me?? Isn't that your BUSINESS to keep track of your customers???

I hate this company. I hate that a cable man can come and rip me off and I can't do a damn thing about it. I hate that they are so disorganized and anti-customer that they can't even keep track of work that is being done on individual accounts. Wouldn't there be a record in their system that they brought out a DVR?? She seemed to be oblivious to this.

I especially hate that this giant, incompetent company has a virtual monopoly on cable and Internet services in most cities. There is not a viable alternative here, just Comcast, and if you don't like them... too bad.

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Finis

It's over.

After the last presentation of my graduate school career, I walked back to my seat in the back of the room at sat down. The professor congratulated me. I looked up to the front of the room and had no clue how I was supposed to feel.

Should I have been happy that I ended on a high note with a strong presenation? Relieved to be finished with what has been 15 very challenging months? Excited about my upcoming job opportunity and the chance to get back into the real world? Sad to know that many of the friends I've made through this program will simply fade into the depths of memory?

All of the above?

For the first time in more than two weeks, my alarm didn't wake me this morning. There were no group meetings to attend to. No papers to write. No last-minute readings to finish. No interviews to prep for. I woke up early anyway, and sat in bed wondering what I was supposed to do with myself.

Not that there isn't anything to do--I've already drafted a fairly lengthy to-do list full of all the things I've been putting off for the last few frantic weeks. People to catch up with, details to straighten out before I leave this town for good. It's just that for the first time in a long time, none of it was pressing down on me. I laid in bed guilt free.

Worrying about what's next can wait until tomorrow. Today, I celebrate. Whatever I'm feeling, it's good to look back and see that I've made it through.