Self-storage woes

    For a while, I worked for a self-storage company. One of the perks was a free 10x10 self-storage unit, which I very definitely took advantage of. The company was eventually bought out by another self-storage company, and we were told that the owners had negotiated some sort of deal where they couldn't immediately charge us full rate for our 10x10s, which was pretty nice of them. For the last several years, I have been paying less than $10/month for my space and trying to keep as low a profile as possible, so that no one noticed and did anything about it. Sadly, it seems my luck recently ran out. 

    In December, I got notice that my rent would be increasing to $60/month come May. Sucks, but in light of the heavy discount I'd been enjoying, I figured I'd just suck it up. Until I get a reminder that my February rent is due - I was pretty sure I'd paid a couple months ahead, because why not? I log in to check it and NOPE! I owe almost $100. What? They'd upped my rent to $117 without (I'd thought) giving me notice. 

   Naturally, I wanted some clarification here. I'd resigned myself to $60, but almost double that felt like a gut punch. Got on the website with their oh-so-helpful chat function and, after wading through the automated responses and getting assigned a real live person, was told that they couldn't do anything, I'd need to call this number. Which, of course, closed 7 minutes ago. Thank you, very helpful.

Crossing nice people (part 1)

DISCLAIMER, because I know you guys: No, this is not a reference to anyone currently in my life. 

      When I was younger, I had a chronic issue with giving people 2nd, 3rd, even 154th chances. As a kid, we're taught to be nice, be forgiving, turn the other cheek, but I would let people get away with things that I really shouldn't have. For the most part, people - or at least a certain type of person - will keep pushing if you let them get away with something once, long past when it becomes obvious that pushing is leading to a problem. After all, they got away with it once, twice, a hundred and fifty-four times... why not keep going?

Paranoid or cautious?

      In the past, I've had my fair share of catcalls, harassment, and being followed while out in public. I've learned to deal with it and present myself as not-a-target, to the point where I feel fairly confident walking around on my own, even after dark. The neighborhood we're in now has always felt safe, so as the days grow shorter, I've just kept walking at my usual time, despite it being definitely nighttime. Three events have happened in the last couple months that make me wonder if I'm being paranoid, or justifiable cautious, and if I need to do research on what sort of personal protection items are legal in this area. 

     The first event seems fairly innocuous, and I didn't really pay it much mind at first. I saw another person walking along the sidewalk I'd turned onto, so I popped out into the street to pass them; they were in regular clothes and clearly having a nice stroll and I was in workout gear clearly getting my cardio in. Parking along the curb is very common here, so I didn't really keep an eye on the person as I passed. For safety reasons, I don't have headphones or music playing while I walk, so I clearly heard the "hey, excuse me, are you working out?" when I'd gotten about 6 feet past them. I turned my head and politely answered in the affirmative, and the guy replied something along the lines of, "I thought so, 'cause of your outfit. It's clearly doing your body well, keep it up!" 

Workplace noise

     Long ago, I heard the phrase "high-scan vs low-scan" for people who cannot ignore noise vs people who can. I haven't been able to find evidence of that as a thing since then, but it stuck in my head, because I am high-scan: small noises that other people tend to overlook are difficult for me to ignore when I'm trying to focus or relax. A month or two ago, a squeaking noise start up in the ceiling at work, and of course, no one else paid attention to it until I pointed it out (although to be fair, all of my coworkers either have or have had small children, so I guess ignoring noise is a skill you pick up at that stage in life). Naturally, it was situated directly over my desk, so no one else thought it was loud enough to do anything about until I complained.... a lot... This is the result:

Why people hate insurance companies

     In early October, I received a letter from my insurance company asking for documentation to support an insurance claim from a visit in May. Annoying, but more annoying because it was a yearly checkup at a practice that I'd been to the year before - also for a yearly checkup, also coded in plain English on the claim as a yearly checkup - that they'd contested and I'd proven was covered. But, bureaucracy, so ok, I gather the documents and send an email as requested on October 24th, well within their 45 day response time.

     No acknowledgement of receipt, no response.

     Two weeks pass, the deadline to submit passes...

Halloween! (back to sewing)

     Tough decision, but I've put thermoplastics on the back burner for a little bit, so I can get two sewing costumes done. One, for Halloween at work, is Anna from Frozen. I'm not aiming for exact, but I have a green shirt, pink scarf, and black boots, so I decided to make a black vest and blue skirt and call it close enough. I made it my goal to finish the vest this week so I could do the skirt next week, and not be last-minute frantic panicking which seems to be a costume/ cosplay staple.
   
     This week absolutely conspired against me. I made the decision on Monday, but ran late at the gym. Tuesday was my birthday, and the house needed cleaning. Wednesday I had jury duty, which was literally across the beltway from where I live and got out at 5:30. Got home with enough time to cut the fabric out, fake a workout, and turn in. Thursday was an evening class, and Friday was preempted by a friend having issues.

     Ok, fine, the weekend will be plenty of time to work on it. Except Saturday was lovely, and my gentleman suggested finishing some outdoor work we've been putting off, with a pressure washer that we borrowed from a friend and really need to get back... and I'd been meaning to winterize the garden anyway... and then we'd promised to meet some friends for dinner and card games... and that was the end of Saturday with no sewing done.

Pet peeve: names

     One of my pet peeves is when people cannot seem to get my name straight. I realize it's a bit of an odd one, at least here in America, but still, some effort would be nice. When I say my name to someone who needs to contact me in writing or look it up in a database, I spell it out automatically. Sometimes I get lazy, and just say "it starts with l-y," occasionally, if the person has struck me as particularly dense, I'll add the double esses in, and if it's anything official or formal, I'll spell it out completely, just to avoid mishaps. Believe it or not, however, some people still get it dead wrong.

     What really ticks me off, too, is when it's someone who is writing or responding to my business email, which follows the format of (first name).(last name)@(workplace).com. They had to type it in- correctly!- to send it to me, and yet they still murder the spelling in the introduction. Maybe, just maybe, I can understand it on the first letter or email. But when I reply, and sign my full name at the end of the reply, and they still get it wrong… I get a little steamed. That's just downright rude. At least have the decency to get my name right, will you?

Variations I have seen:
Cassandra (this one is the most understandable)
Lissandra (somewhat understandable)
Lassandra/ Lesandra
Lisander (I am a marble statue!)
LaShaundra (no clue how they got this one)

     Verbally, I am called Lisa or Leesandra by pretty much anyone who is not a native speaker. That bothers me less than the writing deal, though, because that's less laziness or ignoring, and more nuances of a language. Annoying, but forgivable. The writing thing though? Gets my goat, every time. 

Priorities

     I am often amazed at what other people think is important. It doesn't bother me that our views (obviously) conflict rather frequently- some people pay attention to news, fashion, computer gadgets, celebrities, etc, and as long as they are happy with their lives and do their best to be decent people, then whatever. But now and then, something smacks me upside the head at how drastically different people's priorities can be.

     When I was in high school, the parking lot was pretty much chock full of crappy, old, used cars. You knew who the rich people were because they would have a shiny new car, with a good paint job, new tires, maybe even the sticker still in the window if they were real vain show-offs. For the most part, though, kids got either what they could afford, or that old junker car that the parents didn't want anymore, so it got passed down to the new driver while the adults got a shiny new toy. Rust, dented bumpers, and the occasional car that qualified as a classic, though in need of repair, were common. Sometimes you even got the pleasure of learning how to team up and push-start a car, or help push a friend's jalopy around to the nearest gas station if the fuel meter didn't work right.

My first car was this, but in an institution-puke-green color.

Job search, part 1

Recent checklist: 

     -Graduation? Done

     -Move? Done

     -Help out a friend (which I'd been promising for years)? Done

     -Settled into the new place? Done

     -Job? ....... well........

     There's something horribly depression about looking for a job, and it's not just that the current economy is pretty nasty. It seems like, no matter how many times you have to do it, and regardless of what new level of education/ experience/ skill set you have, job hunting is mentally and emotionally wearing. When I was younger, I figured that it was just due to lack of skills and experience, and it would get easier as I got older. Then before I went to college, I figured it was a lack of that pretty little paper saying you're horribly in debt (no, I'm not cynical at all), because the most random jobs were looking for it. Want to be an insurance agent? Need a diploma. Want to be a delivery person? Need a diploma. Want to wash elephant feet after parades? Need a diploma. Really? Wow.

FTP 49 - Don't give up yet

    This has been an absolutely horrendous week. Everything has gone wrong, from food being spoiled to kicking myself with a hardshoe, from the trailer I ordered being lost by the shipper to having my computer mysteriously eat three hours worth of work on my final paper... Almost every single area of my life has had something go seriously wrong with it in the last seven days.

     And then, out of nowhere, my aunt and uncle- who have been like parents to me out here- call me up and tell me that a relative is selling their trailer, nearly the exact same one I ordered but with a floor and sides already built, would I be interested in buying it? Heck yes I would. A little later, I finally suck it up and get back to work on my annihilated final paper, only to find out that I'm typing better and more easily than I thought I would, and having to look up fewer words. My gentleman called and said he got a job lead from his chiropractor, and gave me his email address to get in touch.

     No, it doesn't change the fact that this past week has been absolutely horrible. But... things do get better. And if you choose to look at it from a different point of view, there are also a lot of things that could have gone wrong, but didn't. The old cliché that it's always darkest before the dawn isn't factually true (I stayed up one night to check), but it's a good adage to live by. 

Moving prep

     Let the countdown begin! I just realized today that there are only 19 days left until I leave this place for good and start working again, hopefully with something relevant to my degrees. This past weekend was taken up with putting a trailer hitch on my car, and rewiring the back end to add a plug for trailer lights. It took a little bit longer than expected, but I had a huge amount of fun with my (awesome) aunt, uncle, and cousin. The trailer itself didn't show up, so I get to go back up there next weekend and spent more time with them, putting it together. I've been selling stuff on ebay and craigslist, and pretty much everything superfluous to daily life is either sold, boxed up, or waiting to be donated, which makes the place rather bare. No worries though, because I have an 8-page final paper (in Russian!) due in less than two weeks, and I expect that to take up most of my time and attention.

     I won't lie, it's all a little overwhelming, and both my attention span and sleeping patterns have taken a hit because of everything going on. I've got an impressive number of lists going, and if something isn't on my calendar, well, it basically doesn't get done. Not because I don't care about it, but just because I only remember about 6 hours too late to do anything about it. As someone who is usually quite orderly, this is more than a bit disturbing, but I'm trying not to let it get me down. Remember those positive websites I linked back here? They're getting heavily used, trust me.

Recognition

     The end of February was, in a word, awful. It was one of those times when all the little things go wrong, so there's no one thing to be mad at. Instead you're plagued with incidents like stubbing your toes, dropping papers, spilling food on yourself, inconvenient parking spaces, hitting every single red light possible, not sleeping well, being chronically late despite starting out early, all that sort of thing.

Yeah, one of THOSE times...

     The crowning point, for me, was the homework for my Russian Idioms class. On a rotating schedule, each student has to research that day's topic and give a powerpoint presentation on it. Usually, this consists of about half an hour of translating the appropriate section of the textbook, a bit of research online, and a quick construction of 5-6 slides that highlight the information and finish with a question or two. For some reason, I decided to check out my section earlier than usual, and was utterly baffled to realize that it consisted of a broad and extremely generalized overview of the European and Russian political, social, and philosophical arenas in the early 20th century, all of which culminated in three very expansive idioms. I emailed the prof, asking if he really wanted this entire overview, and he eventually replied with, "Yes, just give background for the idioms, you'll be fine."

Good days and bad days

Saturday:

• Did laundry (down 2 flights of stairs),
• Washed sheets (also 2 flights of stairs),
• Hand-washed my winter coat,
• Did the dishes,
• Cleaned out the fridge,
• Cleaned out the cabinets,
• Culled old clothes that no longer fit from the closet,
• Put stuff up on eBay,
• Wrote up a study guide for Russian Fairy Tales midterm,
• Watched Russian cartoons to expand vocab and listening comprehension,
• Read a (short) French book,

Slacker post

Won't even try to make it pretty: this weekend was pretty awful, and I did not have time to write anything. Post will be up Wednesday or something. Sorry.

FTP 34 - Stir crazy

     Some people vent excess frustration by criticizing others. Some people do it by yelling or throwing a tantrum. Some do it by immersing themselves in music until they forget the outside world (and associated problems) exist. Some regain their calm with mediation, some by physical activity and exhaustion. I, apparently, do it with drawing, if I'm not in a position to be free with other expressions.

Ballpoint pen on a notepad, nothing fancy.

     What's your outlet? Is it a healthy one? Are you happy with it? If you can't indulge in your major method of blowing off steam, maybe try a smaller (quieter/ healthier) one, and do it a little more often. Can't hurt to try, right? 

Being a woman, part 1

     Every so often, I hate being a woman. No, not because of hormones or cycles or any of that stuff, but rather than I am still viewed by society as a victim in potentiality. What? Not so! Women in the US have more rights now than ever! The glass ceiling is gone, we can vote, we can run for office, we are full US citizens with the same rights as everyone else right? Well, I won't get into all of that, not only because a) it's not entirely true, nor does it cover all of the issues that women face, but mostly because b) that's not what I'm going for. Here's the angle I'm coming from, today:

     As a woman, even a tall, relatively fit woman, I am at a physiological disadvantage when it comes down to a physical alteration. Despite some basic knowledge of self-defense and a carry conceal permit, the chances of me winning if taken by surprise are pretty slim. From (minor) experiences I've had in the past, women aren't accustomed to being physically attacked, and our first reaction is shock. Yes it can be trained out, and yes I'd say the majority of people- men and women- would freeze, but our society has conditioned women to believe that we won't be physically manhandled (think the unspoken "don't hit a woman" rule), and we don't roughhouse enough to get used to it when we're young.

     What's worse is that people who are inclined to attack others (for whatever reason) know this; so, given the option of attacking a woman with the above disadvantages or a man who is more likely to be used to physical interaction and less likely to be laboring under a physiological handicap, which would you pick?

Low point

     I know that recent posts have not been particularly uplifting, and I apologize for that, but I'm hoping that today marks the low point of the trip, and that things start looking up from here. While today was not overtly horrible, a few salient points marked this being the nadir of my enthusiasm to be here.

     The day dawned, once again, cold, wet, and windy. I had managed to get to bed around midnight, but as usual, my roommate's alarm went off at 6:30 so she could get up and talk with her boyfriend... as if she hadn't done so until 11:30 at night, too. I squeezed in another hour's worth of drowsing, but since it gets light at 4:30am, sleep was elusive. After a long, damp bus ride to school, the room where class was held was overly warm, and I literally fell asleep with my eyes open a time or two.

Weekend Pictures

     In apologies for this being put up late, here is a slightly over-the-top (and badly-filmed on an inexpensive camera) video of the opening ceremony at Peterhof Gardens. There are something like 300+ fountains in the entire park, and 100+ of them are in one location: the display directly in front of the castle. This is what we got up at 8am to try to catch; apparently the people in front of us had gotten up at 6 to be there at 8 so they could get front-row seats for the 10:30 commencement. It's pretty, but not enough to wake up at 6 am, in my opinion. Here goes!

     With that done, here are some pictures of the gardens, randomly selected from the twenty or so that I took throughout the day.

The Gulf of Finland- the only place I've been where the
clouds make me feel claustrophobic.

Be yourself

     I was recently going through some old documents I found from a decade or so ago and realized just how angry I was back then. At the time, I was with the first guy I ever dated- an eight-year mistake- and driving a tow truck in the Northern Virginia area. Much of what I wrote was concerning problems between my ex and I, but buried in the middle of a rather long rant, I came across this (cleaned up slightly from stream-of-consciousness rambling):

     I want to be refined, to put a classy spin on things, but just like being a female in the driving industry, it's hard to be classy when everyone around you is categorizing you and putting their own dreams and aspirations on you the moment they see you. I don't want to be an ideal, or a breakthrough in women's rights. I want to be able to do my job, and be treated like I'm trying to work, not like an object or a pioneer. It's almost worse with the women, because they see me and think, "Wow, that's someone who knows what she wants, and she didn't take any sh!t to go get it. I wish I could be like her." That's not how it was, though. I took sh!t- hell, I still do- for what I'm doing, but I'm not doing it for that. I'm doing it because I want to. That's it. There's a part of me that says "Hey, look, I'm just me, just an ordinary person. There's nothing I've done that anyone else couldn't do."

FTP 14 - Knowing limits

Not all thoughts to be pondered are upbeat... here's one that's been on my mind for a while.

     When I was young, the lesson I picked up was "know your limits." As I got older, that lesson became "push your limits," which is understandable since you can't progress without going beyond that which you can already do. What bothers me, however, is that people seem to have forgotten that sometimes, just occasionally, there are limits that do not need to be pushed.

     What's even more annoying is that people don't seem to understand that distinction. I would not say I'm particularly a stick-in-the-mud, and if something is pointed out to me, I will give it due consideration before saying yea or nay to trying it. Therefore, if I say no thank you, I'll pass, there's probably a darn good reason for it, and leave me alone. I will try new foods/ drinks/ etc, so long as they are a) legal, and b) not vegetables. I will go new places, see new things, push a little harder to be a little better, etc. But when I can feel that pushing a little more will cause extremely negative side effects, trust me when I say no.

     I will not walk to the next monument to see another statue when I know it will ruin my knee for the next two days. I will not try this new drink that trust me, yes, I can taste the alcohol in, when I'm the only sober one here. I will not loosen up and just try it where no one will see... because that will be the one time that someone does see, and it will be a cop. I will not register for a competition, because I know it will ruin my love of dance by making me more competitive, and I will hate life after driving 90 miles at 8am to reach it. Trust me, really, I know what I'm doing. And I know when to call it quits. Respect that in me, respect that in yourself. It's ok to not push all the time. Really.