PANGEA DAY
For those of you who missed out on learning about Pangea in middle school, it’s basically the idea that Earth’s seven continents were once one large land mass, and this was named Pangea.
In an attempt to fix our cultural differences back into one, Pangea Day was created and today is the day to celebrate. All around the world, people are observing together. Check out the following sites and enjoy! World peace may one day happen afterall…
And finally, if you want to attend an event, please follow this link and there’s bound to be one near you!
Happy Pangea Day!
The Art of Unmasking the Odor
If our new apartment wasn’t white on white on white (typical…), it would be green.
My gift to our kitten, Mick, when we moved into the new place was a brand new litter box. It was a gift to him because it was new, clean, and uncut (we mangled his previous box when he was too small to jump in), and a bit of a gift to myself as well because it was triple-layered with an option to sift clumped litter instead of manually scooping it out.
Well, it turns out that this double-priced litter box was not a good fit for Mick. Here’s why:
My kitten likes to stand (on his hind legs) when he goes. Maybe it’s a boy thing. My kitten, when standing, often misses his target. Now I know that’s a boy thing.
The new litter box was double the height, advertised that its tall frame “reduces litter spills.” What it causes, at least in Mick’s case, was a puddle of golden sunshine crusting behind the litter box for only my nose to find.
Lastnight when I got home from school at 9:15pm, eager to get a good night’s sleep before the alarm would go off at 5:45am, I was halted and instead dumped Mick’s old litter, cleaned the box, and started fresh.
Then I get a text message from my boyfriend before I got home from work tonight: This stench is incredible. Something’s gotta be done.
Clorox. Clorox. Clorox. Clorox.
Another late night of cleaning and I’m getting dizzy from all these fumes–I just hope all this Clorox pays off!
The Art of Retaliation
We’re all basically twenty-two and twenty-three years of age, my friends and I. We graduated college in ‘06 and ‘07, so we are only now settling into our first full-time, salary-driven, benefits-offering, “real” jobs that may one day lead us into a career. While these entry-level positions may not be where we want to remain for the rest of our lives, we choose them based on what will help us get to where we think we want to be.
For a very dear friend of mine*, her dreams and reality did not work as one. She landed a job with Martha Stewart and was thrilled beyond belief. My friend has always been a dedicated worker. Throughout high school, she played sports and earned As on her report cards. She was admitted into a highly reputable and competitive university, volunteered and interned throughout school, and post-graduation worked 12-hour days to help Martha Stewart continue in success.
Then, one day she and her department were “brought in” and told that they were being replaced by temps, and to please clear their desks immediately.
Now, if I were to ban Martha from my life for that, well, that’d just be silly. But, you see, there’s more to it and here’s the kicker:
Because these employees were laid off on the spot, they had a “choice” of whether or not they were going to receive their two-weeks pay:
1) sign a waiver to not work for any Martha competitor for the next TWO YEARS and receive two-weeks pay
2) do not sign the waiver and do not receive two-weeks pay.
And, along this whole “two” framework–like Martha’s two-sidedness–ex-employees were given two weeks to make up their minds on whether or not they would sign the waiver. My friend, thank the Lord, did not sign.
To retaliate against Martha in my new apartment, I have decided to go the Abbey Smith route while shopping for bathroom towels, rugs, etc. at K-Mart. Sure, MS is cheaper, but could this be part of the reason why? Because she fires full-time employees and replaces them with temps??
It is a shame that I based this blog and my domestication aspirations on someone like Martha Stewart.
*For privacy reasons, my friend’s name, job title, and location have been omitted. She is not aware that I am blogging about her story, hence the omittance of this information.
The Art of Change of Address
Never rely on anyone but yourself is an important lesson, but what if you let yourself down too often for reliance?
I budgeted myself to have $68 when I received my paycheck today, Tuesday, April 15, 2008. The only problem is that a certain department of this company told me to set up my own direct deposit, failing to mention that the cutoff was over a week ago, just three short days after the notification. I found this information out today and so here’s the problem:
I never changed my address. I was told that I had to do this in person, and because I work six days a week during post office hours, I failed to do it. This would not have been as great of a problem if I knew that my paycheck was being mailed to my old address. My company doesn’t know I moved. No one lives in the old address and we already turned in our mailbox key.
What’s even better is that I discovered I could change my address online! However, in order to submit it online I need to give them credit card information for verification. Another problem: my billing address is still at my parent’s house, as is my driver’s license.
I have officially screwed myself. I have six more slices of bread which gives me lunch for the next three days. (Unfortunately I ran out of all my meat today thinking I’d be going grocery shopping on my way home, so now I’m back to PB&Js.) Dinner on school nights will have to wait until I get home at 10pm. Snacks are a no-go. Gas for my commute is questionable.
I just should have changed my damn address. At least that was in my control but I took my sweet time with it.
The Art of Moving, Part II
We’re officially out and I am truly impressed with our efforts in leaving our apartment (ex-apartment now) just as it was when we moved in. While I didn’t get to clean the refridgerator and oven like I wanted, the carpets were sprinkled and vacuumed and the countertops were wiped down with Clorox.
It’s hard to say goodbye. This was our first apartment together and now we’re sleeping on a couch in the new condo.
Bed in first apartment…couch in new condo…
Dresser in first apartment…floor in new condo…
Walk-in clost in first apartment…tiny closet in new condo…
I’ve had zero time to unpack so every morning is a panicked, “Where are my shoes?! Where’s the scoopy thing for the kitty’s litter box?! Where are my hair elastics?!” You know, the basics.
I don’t even have internet, so every day I post my blog from work (please see Domestication Hiatus page), hence its lack of interesting links/videos/pictures.
Please forgive me. I will get back into my Journey Towards Domestication within the week. Thanks!!
The Art of Moving, Part I
We moved over the weekend from our first apartment together, into a beautiful waterfront condo in the same development. Although we’d only lived in the apartment for 11 months, we seemed to have acquired tons of junk–seriously, junk–which made our move very difficult.
You see, our new condo is only about 50 yards from the old apartment, making it too close to drive yet too far to walk. Amazingly enough, lugging two large, solid oak wood futons and a full size couch down two flights of stairs, through the development, and up another flight of stairs in cold, blustering wind was easier than figuring out how to transport drawers of pens, paperwork (unfiled, unfortunately), and coupons/take out menus.
We are supposed to be out of the old apartment today, but some of the above-mentioned items are still lingering. Clothes that didn’t fit in our suitcases have been donated to the Salvation Army and valuable, though thoroughly annoying coupons, have been discarded. At least someone can benefit from our move. 
The Art of Getting the Kids Out On Time
Rundown of the morning:
5:55 — alarm 1 goes off
6:00 — alarm 2 goes off
6:01 — Sean and I both get out of bed
6:04 — I’m in the shower
6:04 — Sean is in the kitchen making eggs, bacon, feeding the kitten and watching Mike & Mike on ESPN
6:14 — I’m out of the shower
6:15 — kitty uses the litter box
6:18 — I blow dry my hair while Sean showers
6:25 — I make myself cereal and watch Mike & Mike on ESPN
6:33 – Sean comes out to eat his homemade breakfast burrito
6:35 — I get dressed for work
6:38 — I start my makeup routine and Sean is still watching Mike & Mike
6:44 — I straighten my hair
6:50 — Sean gets dressed for work and I clean out the litter box
6:52 — my boys (bf and kitten) hog the sink while I try to squeeze in to brush my teeth
6:55 — I make myself lunch (a ham, turkey, am. cheese sandwich)
7:00 on the nose — we kiss the kitty goodbye and walk to our respective cars to drive to work
phew.
The Art of Sewing
I am attending a wedding this coming Saturday in Brooklyn and bought the most beautiful dress a few days ago. It is chocolate brown and floor length with an open back…but the top doesn’t have any support built in and because of the open back, I cannot wear a bra.
Unfortunately, this revolutionary item by Maidenform, as of now a one-of-a-kind, is not yet available for purchase…
…so I took a different approach.
First, I cut in half my almost $50 wireless IPEX Victoria’s Secret bra. It was scary but strangely satisfying.
Second, because I don’t have a sewing machine, I whipped out my $1 sewing kit and stitched in each cup, using another dress with built-in cups as my guide.
Finally, I tried the dress on, and Voila! Perfectly symmetrical cups sewed into a dress that couldn’t survive without it. Perhaps I should become a seamstress
The Art of Not Caring When You Are Misquoted On the News
I made today’s title long for a reason: to show that all of the necessary information required to reflect accuracy can, in fact, fit despite the small space alotted.
On my way to Rowan University (a one-hour commute from my home) yesterday, I filled my gas tank. Instead of going to a gas station “on the way,” I drove five minutes in the opposite direction to fill up at Garden State Fuel. You’re probably thinking, “That must be crap gas, I’ve never heard of it.” Well, I have not done a study on the quality of the gas that pumps up from the tanks under GSF, but I do know that Plus reads 89 octane and my pepper white Mini Cooper has yet to complain.
Ok, back to my story….
So I’m filling up yesterday and the news station from two buildings away, NBC 40, is interviewing customers about gas prices.
How the conversation actually went:
Greg the interviewer: What gas price will impact your driving habits?
Me, the interviewee: Well, I was watching the news today and THEY told me that four dollars will impact me. Hahaha. But no, I don’t really have a set number.
How the conversation was quoted on the 11 o’clock news:
Me, the bratty complainer: Four dollars will impact me.
The title of the video is “‘High’ NJ gas prices, still lowest in U.S.” found via this link. Unfortunately, NBC 40 does not support embedding their videos into others’ sites, including my blog.
I should not have expected anything more than being misquoted. But really, it’s a shame that these reporters or editors were so desperate for a story that they would misquote me. They were after an angle, in search of a number, and didn’t take into consideration the fact that people, like me, are somewhat in denial that the prices are rising so drastically because we don’t have much of a choice or a say. It’s an interesting angle that I have not yet seen published and maybe one day they’ll write that story. Maybe.
