Life INSIDE Apartment H.

First, the dream. Then... the reality.




It's worse than nightmare. Ok, so it's not as bad as I've made it seem in this photo. But, I'm toying with photo effects and taking you on a tour of the horrors inside Apartment H. Visual effects are to be expected. But, since I shocked you so blatantly with my Old Time Picture, I will help you re-balance yourself with something calming and peaceful.



Oh no! We're in the Matrix! So much for calming. This bonsai tree could be a vile Agent sent by the machines to destroy us all... unless we unleash our kung fu. Ok. I was at Target and I needed something to counteract all the blah surrounding me in the apartment. Now... something amazing!



This is not a trick photo. This door is actually closed. I discovered - while growing increasingly frustrated as I tried to organize my immediate environment - that with enough rage or determination, I can close some of the doors in my apartment. This is the door to the closet in my bedroom and is not a fluke. Observe:



Yes! This is an entirely different door. (Same room.) I have not been able to master any of the other three doors in the apartment. But my success here only warrants further testing. Now, back to the horror. What's behind this door?



Due to the graphic nature of the image, I have pixelated it beyond comprehension. I should point out that what you're seeing is not merely a massive pile of clothing that towers to waist level and expands in every direction. There is buried somewhere within that mass of fabric a bed as well. That makes me feel a little better about it. Also, not opening the door works just as nicely. I have begun to cut back on the size of my wardrobe, but we will get into that later. Now, let's approach this from another angle.




If you were curious, this is how things look when I'm in the closet.



Mostly unpacked boxes and books in milk crates line the wall of my would-be office. I've dug out the components and reference materials as I require them. Other than that, I must wait until I can devise some ingenious system of both organization and storage in order to meet my limited space availability and insanely high aesthetic requirements. I wouldn't bother going in this room if not for-



-this. Yes, another Matrix throw back. Since I've already opened the door to recycling photo effects, there's nothing stopping me now. This is where the magic happens and I should note that my keyboard is back-lit in blue so this isn't too unrealistic.



My home office workstation. Actually, it would be more accurate to call it my home storage room work station, I suppose. Anyway. I spend most waking hours in this very corner of my apartment. Well, ok... I spend most waking hours at work, followed by time at this desk, followed by sleep, and then commuting filling out the rest of the pie chart. I imagine time in pie charts. Just a fun fact for you to consider. Moving on then.



Now, back to the clothing issue. I have come to realize that unless I master the ability to fold both space and time - folding time isn't actually necessary but it compliments the other so well and I firmly insist upon obtaining both for my purposes, I will never be able to house all of my various articles of clothing unless I greatly reduce their numbers. So, that is what I have done. These three very colorful totes are filled with relics of fashion that are destined to be recycled by society and quite probably worn in the near future by some emo kids. It's not nearly the half of my whole that I had committed, but it's a serious dent in the dollhouse. And once I determine there is nothing even remotely resembling a winter season here - at least not compared to that of Ohio, I will have three times as much to donate in February. If I get especially ambitious, I will rummage through these totes before carting them off to Goodwill and post an unfashionable attire show for you. Here's a brief glimpse at what that would look like:



Hawaiian shirts! Vertical and horizontal stripes! Old work uniforms! Oh my!



Thank you for stepping into Apartment H with me. Perhaps I'll have the place completely sorted out in the not-too-distant future and you can have a better look. And I promise to lay off all the photo effects.

Life OUTSIDE Apartment H.

Today, I thought it might be fun to take you on a tour around town. (Since I have the day off and have been dying to do a photo blog lately.) But before we begin, a word of caution as we head for the front door. Observe:

Well, that's not going to stop us. It usually stops me. Actually, I don't even go near the door and unless it's a work day, I am completely oblivious that there even is a door that leads outside my apartment.

I've skipped alot here, but you'll see some of that on the return. Here we pass under three sets of railroad tracks as we leave the commercial area of St. Albans. Trust me, going under is way better than going over. Going over means seeing nothing but clear sky across my windshield and hoping there's nothing on the other side for me to come down on. The inclined approach to the railroad tracks is almost too extreme for me and possibly a serious pedestrian safety concern.

This river is the reason why I chose St. Albans. Bare with me. I took several photos of it.

This rocket structure is right next to a children's park which is right next to the river and a highway. Awesome. At least the posted speed limit is reduced here.

Yikes. I don't think so. In the distance you can see the massive bridge that crosses the river which divides St. Albans from So. Chaz (South Charleston). Ask Nurse Egg about how much fun it is to be on that bridge any time in the afternoon. Especially after five. Which is why I take an alternate route. Also, the other way is shorter. But she spent a great deal of time directly in the center of that two lane bridge wedged and compacted by all the other furious working drones of So. Chaz. It made her very, very happy.

Here we are at the recently opened Sonic of St. Albans. I am very excited that there is a Sonic less than a mile from my apartment. Very, very excited. Everyday very excited. Ok, no. But I frequent.

Again, we pass beneath the trio of train tracks back into historic St. Albans.

Which would you choose in a crisis? Or even not a crisis? Me, I turn right here. I sleep very well at night, by the way.

Some of the lovely architecture of historic St. Albans. Two things about the last photo: I do not live in this building and the road is exactly as fucked up as it appears to be.

Another bridge. It never manifested itself before, but I have a serious thing for bridges. I don't care so much for the water that usually lies beneath them, which actually just serves to further my infatuation with bridges. Anyway, I cross three bridges everyday as I make my way into or out of St. Albans. It's a very bridge-friendly location.

Ok. These stairs start two feet from the road and ascend to an unknown height through all of these trees to the top of this massive hill. Someone not only lives up there... which just breaks my brain in half, honestly. But, I've actually seen them check the mail. Apparently, coupons and the electric bill were not enough of an incentive for somebody because that second set of stairs hasn't been used in quite awhile. I have to agree with the man at the top of Stairway #2. F that. Post box is the way to go. Also, where do they keep their vehicles? If there is an alternative way to reach those peeks - which I have to believe there is - why then the staircase madness? Why? Do you see now why it breaks my brain in half?! That's only one of the millions of questions that haunt me every time I drive by those stairs. This is probably the most interesting thing I've discovered in my short time here in WV. I really hope it stays that way.

And finally, we return to the safety of Apartment H. To eat Sonic and watch the third season of Dexter. Life is very, very good in Apartment H today! Stay tuned. My next photo blog will be a guided of tour INSIDE Apartment H. Start getting excited now.

Continued Survival Anniversary (For Nurse Egg)

This is a picture of my sister from possibly three years ago on New Years Day. There are much better photos of her and much more recent ones, too... but I didn't use those for obvious reasons. I didn't wanna. Besides, this photo in particular captures the essence of my sister.

In order to avoid redundancy and confusion, I'll refer to her from this point on as Nurse Egg.

Nurse Egg does not appreciate people waking her up on the morning after News Year Eve, especially when that person is me, annoying, and aiming a camera at her face.

But... these things can't be helped.

Happy Continued Survival Anniversary, you crazy bia. And remember...



[EDIT]

Nurse Egg wants to be a Google Bot when she grows up, but nursing is a more practical and existing career choice.

[/EDIT]

Financial Woe, Punctuation, and Nostalgia

I haven't posted because I've simply been working and sleeping for ten days.

And dealing with jackasses. But I'm not going to talk about my moonlighting as a would-be real estate middle-man double-agent. Hyphen, hyphen, hyphenation. No, we're not talking about my obsession with punctuation either.

Exhausting.

I'm still having some payroll issues which is contributing to my already staggering financial woe. Shoot-me-in-the-face financial woe. 4(hyphen). Do that math! I am going to be seriously loaded this Friday. Of course, you would then need to subtract all the past due amounts owed by me to various utility companies, financial institutions, laborers, and family members and I should break about even. Although I never claimed to be much of a theoretical mathematician and all of this hinges on the theory of me actually receiving this money any time soon. I did update my personal information with human resources including mailing address and direct deposit accounts, but I can only hope they are able to collect accurate payroll information from all the various sites I've been bounced around these last two weeks.

I'm exploring my options for furthering my education.





I'm exploring my options for furthering my education. I allowed the pause in anticipation of family reaction and repeat for effect. I have been reviewing information and comparing institutions for online learning in an effort to eventually obtain my dual masters. Yes, when I finally decide to do something, I overkill. The semester begins in October so I don't have alot of time if I want to enroll this year. Fortunately, there are not endless options when considering online learning. However, I still don't know what or who or where I want to be when I grow up. The where is kinda moot, but the what and who are critical and I'm not sure I'll ever know the answers to those sorts of questions. But, I'll have degrees. And, I'll still have my bartending certification. And, I'll have completed a course in personal health which may be used toward the pursuit of my associates - if I ever find the book and start completing my modules. Which I really need to do. One of several things I really need to do which all fall under the categories:

Unpack boxes stacked in corners of apartment
Organize mass mess
Complete things I start before pursuing 100 others
Make time for me
Stop wasting time using Google to explore every obscure and unnecessary corner of the internet and then posting my findings to Wikipedia

I just made the Google Bots insane with that link. I can hear them crawling all over each other trying to follow the link back here to me. Yummy. Bring on the web traffic. Google Bots are GO!



Obviously I've been spending too much time online if I'm actually creating a href links to better explain my point and provide my posts with some amusing multimedia. I used to do that. Back in the day. But JS is dead to me now.

Notice no link back to THAT site. Exactly. Although you get bonus points if you've been stalking me long enough to get the references. Extra bonus points if you've been stalking me long enough to remember at least five of my previous aliases. Send your answers here along with your mailing address for that prize.

Reincarnation is a beautiful thing.

Turn Right Then Keep Right

GPS is amazing. Absolutely brilliant.

I say this as a foreigner in a strange land who still has no idea where exactly his new local grocer is located. But, I can find an amazing Amish market that sells bricks of every kind of delicious cheese imaginable for only $2. I can not find a video rental store that hasn't gone out of business possibly several years ago, but I was able to easily find my local municipal building and obtain all the necessary utilities. I have programmed in the locations of our new sites - buildings and addresses so new they won't exist on any map but mine for a few months - and can find their approximate locations with just a touch of the screen.

This technology was especially useful when I was still hunting for an apartment and didn't even know how to get back on course or rediscover the highway. But my little magic box knew. It also knows with staggering accuracy just how long it will take to get from Point A to B, or even Exit X,Y, and Z in between. I utilize this information and adapt my driving accordingly. If my exit is more than three miles ahead, I will pass everyone in sight before I get there. If my estimated time of arrival is even a minute past the start of my shift, I will adjust speed and accommodate. I can also search for nearby businesses and attractions which makes exploring the area that much more appealing.

Unless, of course, GPS is lying. Which he does sometimes, especially if I happen to be in Kentucky. Just ask my sister.

We spent two hours driving to nowhere at all - multiple nowheres - on some of the narrowest twisting stretch of rapid incline/decline/incline/recline/uncline/decline "roads" ever paved. We really enjoyed riding on those roads through the night, even without an actual destination. What we did not enjoy was our desperate and unsuccessful hunt for a video rental location. Yes, we found those locations so technically GPS wasn't lying about how to get there, and I'm sure those addresses were at one time filled by the businesses that GPS directed us toward. But that was long, long ago. Only empty commercial spaces for lease and occassionally a lighted sign remained by the time we arrived. There were no movies to be had in a 50 mile radius. At least, not on DVD. VHS is another story. One I will deny and never tell.

Other than those few mishaps, GPS is extremely useful and I dare say essential to my continued existence and successful navigation through this strange world I live in now. I'd be completely lost without it and I'm not entirely sure how I managed before. Poorly is the answer. I managed poorly, if at all.

Personality

I reread the ad in my mind. I analyze each word and try to re-establish the context I had inferred from them. Without much to work with, I had assumed the least. What I had perceived as being the least possible. I was wrong. I reread the ad in my mind.

Studio with personality. $375 +util. Garbage included.

When I allow myself to open my eyes and behold the reality spread out before me, I try to remember what exactly I thought those words had meant. I envisioned raw brick and pipe and industrial insanity but in a tasteful way that did not make me question the likelihood of me being murdered, raped, dismembered, robbed, or any of those combinations if not all. I envisioned a livable if not spartan and minuscule empty space. I had not anticipated three flights of stairs. That is my fault for not asking more specific questions during my cold call to the owner. I also had not been prepared for all the terrible ways in which the word 'personality' could be interpreted. I hadn't imagined how very many things that word could be stretched over and used to hide. I thought I had a very firm grasp of the English language and would have previously considered myself quite adept at the various eloquent and elaborate uses.

I won't describe what I did see, but I will say it wasn't what I had conjured up with my excellent imagination while sitting and chain smoking from the safety of my fifth floor hotel suite. As I stand in the safety of nothing but my primal urge to scream and flee, a question comes to mind and since I can't help myself, don't know any better, and I'm curious...

"Who's personality am I looking at right now? Is this you, Jim? Is this what the inside of your head looks like?"

"Well... no. I'm not sure who's personality this is. That's why I took out the ad, to find out. To see if... maybe there is someone out there who has a personality that would... The rent is cheap, so I has hoping..."

"Ah. I see."

"So... it's not-"

"Not me. Nope."

"Well, ok."

No. Definitely not ok. Not even close.

Apartment H

My life does not fit in this apartment.

That's a metaphor and accurate, too. I realize this, dismiss it, and try to shut the door again. Any door. Every door. There is only one door in this entire apartment that actually closes completely and that's the door that divides this tiny world from the slightly larger one outside. I kick an empty box into a stacked pile of full boxes. I have another realization.

I hate cardboard boxes more than anything in this world. Well... not quite. Almost.

Work is going well except for it being completely awkward now and foreign. No. That's not right. It's only strange to me because I'm the foreign one. The import. The transfer. The latest, greatest thing. Possibly that last statement is only in my own mind and if I believed it that would make me quite a smug, arrogant little bastard. I suppose I do, half the time. I enjoyed my first day of work - the first of two days at the first of our two recently completed sites. Could that be any more vague or confusing? I doubt it, unless I elaborated about the rest of my schedule for this week. Bottom line: I'm temporary and random. I fill space and time, where ever that is needed. I won't have a permanent placement until September. Until then, I float. I commute. I meet, interact, find my way, adapt, progress, prepare. Like I said, I'm enjoying it despite the awkwardness or maybe simply because of it. I enjoy the challenge. The oddity is amusing and pleasing in ways I hadn't expected. I am simply enjoying the constant change. I'm not bored and that's wonderful.

I have most of my things unpacked now. The rest of my precious personal effects will have to stay in boxes until I can devise some brilliant storage system to overcome the extreme space limitations of my new apartment. It had occurred to me that moving from a three bedroom house into a two bedroom apartment might create a few problems as far as just finding somewhere to put everything - all the things I just couldn't do without and will probably never use and never have. Things I own but for no good reason.

I've donating everything I own to Goodwill tomorrow. I only wish it were that easy. I can commit 1/4 of everything I own to Goodwill. That seems appropriate. Once I get the time and will to make that happen, it will be a little easier to breathe in here.

I'm waiting for my previous life to catch up with me, regarding the postal forwarding system anyway. There's a check floating out there in limbo somewhere with my name on it. Two of them, actually. Other things as well, I'm sure. But, who cares? I want money. I got to get paid.

Today, around noon, I realized that I don't know a single person in this entire state except for the few people I've met through work. I could not keep that ridiculous smile from creeping across my face. It's fantastic. Absolutely brilliant. Now, anyway.

My first night in the apartment was rough. That's after spending the previous night packing everything I own into a Uhaul, connecting an auto trailer, loading the Jeep onto that, and then sleeping on the floor of my empty house. That's also after saying all my goodbyes the next day, driving 300 miles, unloading the Jeep off the auto trailer, disconnecting the auto trailer, driving to my apartment, unpacking the Uhaul, driving back to the rental agency to exchange Uhaul for Jeep, driving back to my apartment, and then sleeping on the floor of my box-filled apartment. That night was rough. I did some unpacking but the reality of my situation was overwhelming.

I've never been this alone.

I realized it was true and almost cried. I didn't, of course, but I felt like I might for a moment or two. I've been living on my own at Tatterdemalion for six months previous to this, but that was back in Ohio and within minutes of driving to any number of people's homes. Friends, family... people I knew. There have always been people for me no matter where I've gone. There's always been someone there. Even if I didn't particularly care for those people, they were there.

My sister came down the next day and stayed through the week. I really, really needed that. Way more than I'll ever admit, I did. In return, I refused to let her help me unpack anything for the first day. We did unpack the kitchen, living room, bathroom, and some of the office before she left. I unpacked my bedroom and office after she had gone. It was more manageable then. I was stable. I had regained my composure and motivation by then.

I'm a silly bastard. I know. Whatever. I don't even care.

For the first time since I began this whole process, I actually believe I can pull it off rather than just manage to survive. I can make a go at this. I can live here. Or I can, once I can find a way to fit my life into this apartment. Still, none of these doors will close. I suppose that's another metaphor.

As long as I don't start burning bridges, I should be fine. I cross three of them every day.