If I was religious, I would call this a sign. (But I'm not, so I'm just calling it hilarious.)

Occasionally, I'll hit the "next blog" button because it's entertaining, and I'm bored.

Tonight's foray was...well, weird. We all know that I'm a vocal person who advocates free thinking, much drinking and easy on the minking (no furs! boo!). And that I'm an atheist.

Here's the line up from this evening:

http://shaynawillis.blogspot.com/
"...it hit me that I am fortunate enough to know the ultimate Good News. Sometimes I think that all of the bad news makes us forget that we are here to share the Gospel."

That's nice. NEXT.

http://deadtheologians.blogspot.com/
"When my wife's grandfather's church started using guitars in their service, he complained that all they sang was 7-11 songs..."

Actually, that posting appealed to interest I have in music, but you know, not really much of my thing.

http://calvinistflyswatter.blogspot.com/
"[W]e have affirmed the necessary instrumental use of "means" -- the Word of God, the Gospel -- in the New Birth or Regeneration."

I didn't even try to read this one because a) OH YAY CRAZY CALVANISTS b) Oh wait they're not crazy Calvinists, but they are refuting the crazy with... more crazy. Awesome.

http://strengthsong.blogspot.com/
"I have some favorites from the living active dividing between my soul and spirit breath of Almighty God and source of my strength and my song (yeah you guessed it, THE BIBLE :) to share with everyone."

To be honest, what originally put me off was the smiley face/end parentheses combo and the phrase "living active dividing" which a) I'm pretty sure isn't grammatically correct and b) doesn't even make sense, remotely. At all. Sometimes, you'll find something that isn't correct, but still manages to make sense, you know? This one, not so much.

Also? I'm slightly weirded out at this point. Little did I know that it was about to get worse. I mean, "more special."

http://thefirstpremise.blogspot.com/


Everything about this page reminded me of why I have rejected the delusions of religion. Starting with the GIANT PICTURE OF THE DEAD MAN. Only Christians would come up with the idea to worship the murder of a man by pretending to be cannibals and thinking his zombie rising is "cool." (Have y'all not SEEN any zombie movies? Ever?) And then his bio is weird. And his facebook widget implies that he thinks he's "hip" or something. Except for the fact that his facebook profile pic of of a gator. I guess gory, terrifying death is a theme on this page.

http://grammysammy.blogspot.com/
"Yesterday was the first day of SENIOR CITIZEN LEAGUE bowling at Lincoln LANES. I went in, put on my bowling shoes and then remembered I forgot something in the car so I changed to my street shoes and went to the car and then came back and prepared to bowl. Not thinking I bowled two frames in my street shoes."

Well, the color scheme was off-putting, and the all caps is something my emailing/IMing 80-something year old Gma Scott does, too, so I can forgive that. And the bowling made me giggle. At least there's no OMG JESUS, at least.

http://farnsworthforum.blogspot.com/

Has a church in Guam. Didn't really care. Is living in PA. Didn't really care. Has a really, really boring laying/color scheme. Didn't really care.

http://yuanitasulayman.blogspot.com/
Title and Tagline: "Giving back to thee the life I owe: Redeemed and paid by the precious blood"

Again, with the death and the cannibalism...

http://apilgrimsredress.blogspot.com
"Please pray for the unreached People of the Day" with a picture of a man in somewhat traditional Afghani dress/turban.

GAH!! GAH!! EVANGELICALS!! RUN!!

It was at this point that I started asking Parker what the hell was up with blogspot's randomizer tonight, because this shit is SO NOT RANDOM.

http://hughofcluny.blogspot.com/
"A Society located in Connecticut, dedicated to promoting the Traditional Mass in accordance with the Motu Proprio Summorum Pontificum."

I don't even know what that means, but I think I recognize "Connecticut" and "Traditional Mass." Are y'all bringin' back the Latin? (PS, further reading down the blog talks about Chant Camp. I'm simultaneously scared and jealous. If it's more Slavic chant, I'm so there. But only if Mark is directing.)

http://thehambrickfamily.blogspot.com/
Tagline: Faith, Family, Frugality, and Life on the Farm

For fun phonics, find the phone. Or something. I started laughing so hard at this point, because of the sheer absurdity of the last 10 minutes. Jesus blogs coming up left and right? OK blogspot/blogger, I'm dyin' of laughter here, but really. I mean. REALLY.

Tell you what, blogspot/blogger. If the next "random" one is in the same vein as everything else, I get to lounge here and watch a movie. If it's back to normal, I'll go clean the kitchen. Deal?

http://abidingfaithourjourneyofreallearning.blogspot.com/
"A homeschooling journey through faith" text is superimposed over poppies that have CLEARLY been poached from the National Geographic website (copyright stuff on the bottom is sort of a giveaway).

This one wins the award for "Longest blog title reflected in the URL ever" award. And I get to watch a movie. I'm thinking Eddie Izzard, to continue my irreverence. Maybe I'll work on an entry for Bottles on a Budget, while I'm at it.

Meh.

Welp, it's official. My old boss emailed the kiddles today, which I guess means that I can make a big announcement about it myself.

I no longer work for Yale's Student Technology Collaborative. I am now working for Academic Computing Resources (which used to be Academic Computing Services, which used to be Cluster Support), as the Asst Manager of Student Support. From what I've been told, the Power That Be (PTB) decided to have a reorg of ITS, and that STC was going to be categorized as Client Support. The media program really isn't support, it's more of a resource. So the media program would be moved, as well as its student workers, and me (rather than training an entirely new person to work with the program that I've been uber involved with for the last year). I've known about this since late June, and I have one giant impression of the whole thing.

Yale is going corporate. And it sucks.
(Ok, I guess that's actually one impression and one opinion, but whatever.)

To be brutally honest, the whole thing was handled poorly. I do not appreciate being told that a major, sudden, painful transition is going to take place on the last day of the ResNet Symposium, before my 4 days of vacation with my aunt and uncle and cousin, the latter two whom I've not seen for something like 6 years. I don't appreciate that this shit was pulled right before school started, leaving STC sans a much needed pair of hands for Fall Training and the Freshman Invasion. Yeah, I get WHY it was done, and it all objectively makes sense, but you know what?

It still sucks. And I still feel like crying after reading my old boss' email to the students today. But I'm gonna pull it together (for about the millionth time), pull on the Big Girl Pants, and go learn some more stuff on Lynda.com about Final Cut Pro Studio 7. Because I can't change what the PTB thinks or does. I can only control how I react and how I go on from here.

So let's make the most of this. Let's do this. Let's start a new journey. I have a LOT to learn about media and editors and all the fun gadgets that come with it. I'll have new Clusters-ish responsibilities soon enough, besides the Bass Media stuff, so I might as well embrace the challenges I've been handed.

Meanwhile, I'm planning on drinking plum-basil-vodka smoothies tonight while picking out a TV online, so if anyone would like to commiserate hang out later tonight, you know how to get a hold of me. Nothing salves a wound like booze and new toys.

The best defense is a good offense

I have an offensive kitchen. (And The Landlord isn't far behind.)

Boxes, boxes, everywhere!

It has 2 upper cabinets, 4 lower cabinets and one large "under the sink" space. And four drawers.

Dude, seriously, there's half of my storage/organization space. RIGHT THERE.

Then there's the issue of The Wall.

Yes, this wall.

Now, walls themselves don't bother me. It's when walls are in weird places and serve only to take up space that would be better used as say, cabinets and counter space, that I get upset.

Seriously, WHERE am I supposed to work in this kitchen?

So I asked The Landlord if I could put some shelves on The Wall, a cabinet being a poor idea due to the fact that the floor is slanted and Parker's ball likes to move in mysterious patterns over it. (I think that the floor should have been leveled when the kitchen was being remodeled, but hey, what do I know? I just sit at a computer all day, right?) I also asked if I could stencil a border at the top of the walls, for some color. This border, to be exact. And, oh yeah, I said that we wanted to install a pots-and-pans rack above the stove. (You caught the "we need storage solutions!" vibe? Good.)

The Landlord says that he thinks that the shelving would make the kitchen too crowded. But if I really feel that I need the shelving, as long as I patch'n'paint over it, he doesn't care. And that we shouldn't repaint the whole kitchen because he just had that done. And ps, you guys have a lot of stuff, and should maybe consider getting rid of some of it. (He did not mention the pots-and-pans rack.)

In my email, I stated that a) I would patch'n'paint as needed when we moved out, b) that we really need more storage space and c) that it was a border I wanted to paint. I did not ask for c) his opinion on how cluttered the kitchen would look or d) how cluttered the rest of the apartment is. He tried to temper it with some statement about a fatherly opinion. But let's get a few things straight here.

We have a business arrangement. I ask questions, and I want answers. I do not need - nor desire - long rambling statements that have very little to do with the answer I actually need. It was a seriously weird, rambling answer.

We do not have a familial relationship. Nor are we friends. When I want someone's opinion on something, I ask. (Really, I do. I ask lots of people for lots of opinions, all the time.) If I wanted "fatherly advice," I would call my dad. Or Le Boyfriend's dad. Or any number of my uncles. Or some of my friends' dads. I would not ask my landlord.

Unfortunately, I have this weird desire for people in positions of authority to all see me as a happy, perky, pleasant person, so I'll never write and send something as passive aggressive as the following faux-mail, but my Midwestern soul burns with the fire of a thousand suns and wishes it could.

Dear Landlord,

It's my opinion that sometimes, you're bat-shit insane and can't plan anything in a timely manner. Please refer to the fiasco that was refinishing the two bathrooms on State St and the fact that my kitchen wasn't completely operable until Tuesday. Also, the rest of my floors could use a refinishing, and we'd all appreciate it if you'd stop referring to Caesar as "my Mexican." He is not "yours" and do you even know if he's actually from Mexico? We have a lot of Ecuadorians around here, you know. I'm just saying this as a culturally sensitive member of society, so try not to take it too personally.

Love,
Us

PS, Most of the boxes in the living room are BOOKS. Because I READ a LOT and have an education in the liberal arts and we like to compulsively keep our books. And I have several boxes of winter stuff, because the stupid state of Connecticut is going through some ridiculous schizophrenic stage where the winters are make-your-boobs-hurt cold and summers are in the please-everyone-I-know-it's-hot-but-no-one-wants-to-see-that-much-skin category. So, yeah, I have a lot of clothes, I know, but it's not really your problem. I also play two instruments and sing, which is why there's so much music stuff. I'm so sorry that I'm a person of diverse talents.

PPS, You didn't tell me that one of the downstairs neighbors is an infant. Would have been nice to know before I started banging on shit when we moved in. Some of us try to be considerate neighbors, which is easier when we know what's going on. Just sayin'.

Home Sweet Home?

We have too much shit.

We are never moving again. We will grow old and die on Pleasant St.

The previous tenants had terrible taste. My landlord can't get anything done on time.

I have no patience, can't explain the diagrams in my head, and should never have children.

John can't prioritize the well-being of a toddler (aka Parker) and should never have children.


These are the revelations that Le Boyfriend and I have reached in the past 48 hours. Yet, we've managed to not kill each other, the landlord, or Parker, we've gotten just about everything into the apt and approximately the right room, and we even wrestled a mattress up the stairs. "It's like the door gave birth to the mattress - squishing, resizing, pushing, pulling..." we commented when we finally got it up the 2 flights of Stairs from Hell and into the kitchen.

It's a good thing we know how to have a spat and move on. It's also a good thing that we only have a full-sized bed and not a queen.

I've been moving around in a sea of boxes, and I look around and have a 30-second panic attack. omgtherearesomanyboxeswherethehellarewegoingtoputallthisstuff? is the usual thought process. Occasionally it's also something like holyshitwedidit or where'sthedog? (Parker has a tendency to hide when he doesn't like what's going on.)

Here, let's review some of the panic-inducing views from my apartment....

This is my kitchen. It doesn't look so bad, does it?

Well, you should know that the counter on the right hand side isn't attached to the cabinets, I'm going to have to loop a power cord from behind the metal shelving in the middle over the door, behind the stove, and up the wall so that I'll have a power outlet where I'll actually do a lot of the food prep.

This is our living room. Ooooh yeah, there's the first million of the boxes.

This room is filled with expensive electronic equipment and musical instruments. But not the Mac Mini or the 1TB HDD yet. Those are living at the office until the contractors are officially, finally, absolutely finished. Because I didn't spend $700 on shiny shit for some guy to steal it. I'm sure he's perfectly trustworthy, but I'm not taking any chances.

This would be the bedroom. Part two of the million boxes. And Parker.

Parker would be that black blob on the bed. He's not thrilled with this moving thing. "Moooooom, just hold me all day!!" is pretty much all he says right now. That, and "What's that new smell?" The weird door in the middle of the wall is the door to the fire escape. Yeah, I have a fire escape attached to my bedroom. Yay.
(Note: I did some unpacking post pictures, and I'm pleased to report that 3 of the boxes are gone. And the bed is now made, Mom.)

Now we leave my bedroom and go towards the small hallway that runs between the pantry/office, kitchen, bathroom and ends at my bedroom.

There be boxes in the pantry.



Looooots of boxes.



And dog food. Parker's gotta eat, too! Also, I am lobbying that we get rid of the ugly blue 1982 lamp. Don't get me started on the lava lamp....

Welcome to the Only Room That Is Done:
The Bathroom

At least I can shower and attend to all of my bodily needs in peace and the knowledge that SOMETHING has been put to rights. Coordinating colors make my little OCD heart very happy.

So, that's the grand tour of the Kurzawa-Scott-(Corona) residence. No pictures of Adriana's room, since it's her room and not mine. When she leaves in the winter, I think the general idea is to put the living room in her room, and turn that room into a guest room/storage place.