The Five Apartment Hunters You Meet in Moscow

Moving.

     I can think of few things I hate more in life than packing up all my shit, loading it into a car, and unpacking the same shit into a new place.  If I never moved again it would be too soon.  Until recently, moving for me had consisted of the aforementioned steps of packing/unpacking belongings.  However, this spring, moving has a new twist;  I'm moving and trying to get out of my lease.  My current apartment is like some relationships I've had; I've put a lot of energy, work and money into it and it's still not quite right.  My new place however, is quite the opposite; ready to move into, low maintenance and cheaper.  And when you're a champagne kind of girl on a beer girls budget, those are big selling points.

Compromise?

     Once I decided on the new place, I got to work putting ad's up for my current one.  I've scanned Craigslist ad's zillions of times and it was apparent that one need only a computer and the English skills of an average first grader to post ad's to the website.  That being said, I cleaned my apartment, took some fabulous photos of it and posted them along with a glowing description of my residence to the 'apt / housing' section of Craigslist.  To my surprise, I received several responses from interested parties and began setting up tours immediately.  Finding someone to sublease my apartment was turning out to be so easy!  Why had people moaned and groaned in sympathy when I told them of my plans?  I was about to find out, because no Craigslist warning or averted eye contact from friends when I discussed my rental situation could have prepared me for what would walk into my apartment that Sunday afternoon; The Five Apartment Hunters You Meet in Moscow.

#1 - Cathy the Criticizer

     The first email I received was from a very interested grad student.  He was out of the state, but wanted to move on this place quickly.  He contacted a friend who lives in the area and she and I scheduled an appointment for her to come check the apartment out for him.  When his friend arrived, I opened the door and the woman who stood there briefly introduced herself as *Cathy.  I say briefly because without me actually inviting her in, she strolled past me, looked around the entrance hallway and said, "It's certainly not much of an entrance, is it?"  I laughed a little as she continued on into the entrance of the actual apartment. What ensued was a string of blunt observations about how, "Dark and dingy basement apartments always are," and how she'd expected as much.  She was surprised my closet wasn't better organized since I work in retail.  Cathy continued through the apartment and loudly exclaimed how happy she was to not be looking at this for herself.  I was becoming increasingly annoyed with this woman when she stated, "And this...this has got to be the worst part of this place.  You think the landlord would have done something about that."  Her nose was wrinkled in disgust as she pointed to my Harvest Gold colored stove.  I should be clear that I really have no lost love for this stove.  It's as ugly as it sounds, but by God, I'm the only one who gets to criticize my 70's era cook top!  Suddenly that stove wasn't just a stove; it stood for all that was good and right in world of cookery.  This stove was regal!  This stove was majestic!  I'd take a bullet for this stove!  Who was this woman to march into my apartment and insult the appliance which had served me so well in the past few months?!  At that, I announced that if she or her friend had any more questions, they could email me at their convenience and ushered her out the door.  I have a suspicion that she wasn't done firing her list of insults at my abode, but both I, and my humble stove had had enough of Cathy for one day.

#2 - The Newlyweds

     I should have known by her email responses what I was in for.  Her use of 'he' instead of 'I' in every email inclined me to think this was a couple coming to view the apartment, though she gave no hint of that.  The Newlyweds arrived promptly at 1:30 and from the time they stepped out of their car, they did not stop holding hands.  I wasn't really bothered by this, but I'm not joking when I say they held hands for every second they were on the property.  I invited them inside and they gazed into each others eyes, sighed a happy sigh in unison and proceeded awkwardly down the steps into the entry way.  I suppose I should be happy he didn't try to carry her across the threshold.  Anyway, I let them in and began the grand tour, talking up the huge closet, new floors, etc...  As I continued, the awkwardness grew more and more hard to handle.   I was half way done talking about the electric bill when I realized the two of them hadn't said a word to me or each other--they'd just held hands, gazed into each others eyes and given me the necessary nods of their heads when it was obvious I was looking for a response.  Had I known what it would be like if they spoke, I'd have stuck to 'yes' and 'no' questions.  "So," I began tentatively, "How do you like the place?"  And the creepiest thing I've ever seen ensued.  The man began telling me what his partner liked about the place, expressing her sincere appreciation of the new flooring, quiet location and several other specifics.  When he was done speaking, she began talking and telling me about how he liked the backyard and available storage.  Was I clear that the two had never said a word to each other the entire time?  I can only speculate how they were able to convey these specific interests to each other without speaking--I suspect they were communicating through their entwined hands.  I walked outside and shuddered as the two walked away, hoping I never have to sacrifice speaking for myself in the name of love.

Translation: Honey, did you just fart?

#3 - Is that for Sale?

    I'm not sure if I've made this clear, but I've invested a significant amount of time and effort into making my apartment feel like home.  Decorating in a half basement duplex can be tricky, but in my humble opinion, I've become quite the savvy cellar dweller.  Even though half my furniture was purchased on Craigslist or given to me by family, I think I've done a pretty good job of turning this house into a home.  So, when a person comes into your house and immediately begins complimenting your decorating taste and furniture, you just can't help but puff your chest up and feel good about yourself.  "I really like those wall hangings," she said eagerly, "Do they come with the apartment?"  I thanked her and told her no, the only thing remaining in the apartment would be the appliances.  We continued on through the tour and she just kept exclaiming how much she liked my furniture.  When she saw the canopy I have hanging over my bed, she asked how much I would ask for it.  I chuckled awkwardly and mused that all apartments should come with built in mosquito netting canopies in their bedrooms.  "Seriously," she asked.  "How much?"  I told her she could buy the exact same canopy at Bed Bath and Beyond for $50 and that seemed to calm her down.  By the time she left my apartment, this woman had made an offer on my ottoman, leather chair, floating shelves, vanity and a wine bottle with an image of Marilyn Monroe.  She left and I let out a loud laugh when Greta poked her head out from under the bed...I think she was scared the lady was going to try and buy her too.

Really though...who wouldn't want to take her home?

#4 - Match.com

     *Rodney, 33 from Butte, Montana corresponded with me though an inordinate amount of emails prior to meeting me.  He told me he recently moved back to the area after a cabinetry stint in Butte and was an Aquarius.  He also told me how much he loved the outdoors and that kayaking was his favorite hobby.  Did I mention that Rodney was a potential tenant, not a potential love interest?  This fact was crystal clear to me, but Rodney seemed a little less clear on the matter.  His questions were more about me, what I liked to do for fun.  Every time I tried to bring the conversation back to the apartment, he swung it back around to talk about me.  When I told him I was only moving a few blocks away, he talked about how cool it would be for us to live so close.  I asked if he had a pet, since I was going to tell him there would be an extra deposit if he did, and he told me he wanted to get a dog, and wouldn't it be great, because then our dogs could play together?  I told Rodney if he had any further questions, he could email me, but he thought it might be easier to get a hold of me if he had my phone number.  Thanks, but no thanks, Rodney.

#5 - VANDALS ARE #1!!!

     I wasn't really sure I would get many hits from college students on my ad.  It's a pretty residential neighborhood and I don't think many undergrads live around here.  However, when *Austin came by to see the place on my lunch break, I was proven wrong.  He stepped out of his car and his scrawny, University of Idaho themed clothing clad figure came walking up the sidewalk.  Austin was going to be a Senior next year and was double majoring in Chemistry and Physics and minoring in, ok, I really stopped listening after he said Chemistry.  He told me all about school and how much he loved going to the U of I.  Austin shared with me his plans to earn his PhD at Idaho because he, "Couldn't imagine going to school anywhere else."  He made sure to ask if the lease was renewable since he loved college and was going to be in Moscow for a long time.  I assured him that as long as he was a good tenant, the landlord would love to have someone there for the long haul.  For a bit, it was actually really endearing to listen to someone who loved the school part of college, but then, it got kind of annoying.  As I was wrapping things up, I walked him out the door and told him it was nice to meet him.  "Have a nice afternoon," I said. "GO VANDALS!" He said, and raised his right arm high in the air and as his hand hovered there, I realized what he was wanting.  So, I raised my hand and our palms met with an enthusiastic 'clap' because I just don't do shitty high-fives.

   Anyone of you who's ever had to show a house, car, or unwanted piece of furniture to a stranger has undoubtedly met with similar experiences as mine.  While I did have a handful of 'normal' people come to check the place out, the above five are the ones that stuck out to me the most.  I don't know if any of them have turned in the rental application to my landlord, or if they will.  I do know though, that through this exploit, I have experienced quite the slice of Moscow.  All of the people were so different, but they were all united by one thing; the idea of a studio apartment for $475 per month, water, sewer and garbage included sounded like a pretty damn good deal to them.

*Names have been changed to protect the identity/integrity of those involved.

'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,

Be it ever so humble, there's not place like home;

A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there

Which sought through the world is ne'er met with elsewhere. 

J.H. Payne - Home, Sweet Home. 

My Worst Hater.

I first met her in fourth grade.

As I stood waiting for the bus, a group of girls were talking not far from me.  While I wasn't the best of friends with them, we did have a lot of things in common; you know, playing house on the playground and an affinity for tether ball, the things that matter when you're 10.  It wasn't that I was eaves dropping, but pretty soon it became obvious they were talking about a birthday party they'd attended.  One of the girls had turned 10 over the weekend and they were re-living how fun her sleepover had been.

That's when I first remember meeting her.  She leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Do you hear them? Did you hear how awesome the sleepover was?  Too bad you weren't invited..."

I tried to ignore the girl.  I was sure they'd wanted me to come, they just probably had forgotten to give me the invitation.  Or maybe they just called my house to invite me and I didn't get the message.  They probably had thought I was going out of town last weekend.

"Nope," she whispered.  "They just plain don't like you."

"I'm pretty sure it's because no one has worn that shirt since the first grade."

This is my first recollected memory of my biggest hater; my Inner Critic...one Ms. Self Doubt.

The problem was, this wasn't the kind of friend you really wanted around, you know?  She only came by whenever I was feeling bad about myself.  And just in case I wasn't down enough, she made sure to point out all my flaws and really drive home my insecurities.  That bitch was there when I missed the word 'cushion' in the finals of my spelling bee. She came around when I messed up my clarinet solo in the 8th grade.  She made sure she was there when I bombed my interview question in Junior Miss.  Always there with a, "Of course you're not, smart/talented/pretty/whatever else enough." 

Pretty sure without her negative talk, I would have invented this. 

Yuup, that she-devil made adolescence a real pain sometimes.  Fortunately as I aged, I learned there are some friends worth keeping and some worth ditching, and this one belonged to the latter group.  It wasn't that as I got older, I stopped failing at life; quite the contrary.  But, with age comes experience and with experience came the ability to tell that callous tramp to shut the eff up.  

My Worst Hater has made two semi-recent appearances in my life as of late.  One being last year when I was fired from my first big girl job.  "Of course they fired you, Melissa...you were definitely the dumbest one there.  How could you think a stupid blonde like you could take on a big job like that? You'll never hold down a real, adult job."  She yelled all these things at me as I left the job site, and followed me home, sat next to me on the couch and continued her demeaning banter.  Finally, after having reached an incredibly low point, I dialed my Mom's phone number to tell her what had happened.  As I tried to catch my breath and listened to the phone ring, Ms. Self Doubt asked me why I was even calling my Mom, and told me how ashamed my parent's would be of me.  My mom picked up the phone and I managed to stammer that I'd been fired, while my Inner Critic sat there, smug look on her face, waiting for the disappointed words my mom would surely utter. 

"What am I going to do??" I sobbed to my mom.

"Well, Melissa, you're going to print some resume's, put on a suit and on Monday, start hoofing the pavement for a new job...that place sounded awful anyway."

And just like that, I looked over and my Worst Hater had vanished.  That's when I learned something about your Inner Critic...they don't stick around if you've got someone important in your life who has confidence in you.  And not even the brashest, bitchiest Inner Critic has enough balls to go against my mom.

Bitch, pleeze...don't act like you didn't just soil yourself at the thought of going toe-to-toe with her.

The second of that tramps recent appearance's was super recently, like two weeks ago recently.  I, Melissa Jean Krautscheid, for the first time ever, was dumped.  It wasn't a horrible break-up, and I for a few hours I was actually really happy with how well I was taking it.  That is until I was sitting alone on my couch and I heard a familiar voice. "You knew from the start you weren't good enough...you'll never be good enough. No one is ever going to like you that way."  I felt myself sinking to that same, dark heavy place.  Maybe she was right about this one--maybe I wouldn't ever find 'the one.'  I should be clear that I hadn't been dating this person for too long, and while I really liked him, I didn't consider him to even be 'the one.' But that's how sneaky and scheisty your Inner Critic can be when you're down.  She took what boiled down to a situation of bad timing and twisted and turned it until I knew it was completely my fault and and that no one would ever love me.  

Fortunately for me, I have a group of thoughtful, kind and ever-patient friends.  One in particular was only a phone call away and came over to talk to me.  It was a bit awkward with the three of us sitting on the couch; me, Self Doubt and my friend, but as we talked it got better.  My friend explained to me that while it did come as a shock, at the end of the day, people are wild cards and there is just no predicting them.  As my friend assured me that I was a good person, and I was worth dating, my Worst Hater's presence became  softer and softer until she finally left the room.  I've learned it can be hard to ditch Self Doubt by yourself, and at times, it's necessary to bring in reinforcements. 

I'm not really sure what I want anyone to take from this.  Maybe I was just writing it to get things off my chest.  Maybe I just wanted to figure out how many different names I could create for my self negativity.  Or maybe this could actually make a small difference to you.  We all talk ourselves down from time to time, and it's important to know that in the small circumstances, we can ditch it on our own.  However, it's also important to know that there will be times when it might make it easier to talk to a friend about it.  It helps to remember that even in our most trying times, there are people around us who love and support us.  And for each time we lose faith in ourselves, there are people out there who still believe in us.  And that, friends, is just plain awesome.

It's not who you are that holds you back, it's who you think you're not.  

The Spirit of Christmas

There are so many things about the holiday season that make it special for me.  I enjoy watching the snow fall when it's dark and quiet outside.  I love the smell of Christmas trees. I love spending time with my family (this statement subject to revocation). Lastly, I especially love working retail during Christmas! Helping people find the perfect present for their family/friend/people from work they don't really know is my specialty!  Also, I think it's the son of God's birthday or something...

Yes, Balthasar; for the 1000th time, I'm sure the Jesus likes frankincense. 

A couple of weeks ago, an older woman came into the store with two tags from the mall's giving tree.  After an incomprehensible amount of time shopping, a lot of hand gesturing (English wasn't her first language), and a handful of gift receipts, we'd picked out the perfect gifts for the tags she'd taken off of the tree.  She had particular pride in one shirt she'd chosen for the 13 year old girl, and was excited to take them back to the donation spot. 

 This week at work, a woman came into the store with a return. She laid the package on the counter, handed me three gift receipts and asked how much money she had to work with.  I told her the amounts, handed her back the receipts, and told her I'd hold her return up on the counter while she looked around.  I helped her find some things in her size and and returned to the back of the store while she continued to shop.   Once at the register again, I opened the bag and stopped short.  

This woman was returning the giving tree gift I'd helped the older woman pick out only a couple weeks before, only she was returning clothes presumably meant for her daughter and using the money to buy clothes for herself.  I looked up at her browsing around the store and my stomach turned.  How could someone return a gift meant to make a needy child's Christmas bright, and turn around and purchase something for them-self instead?

I was so upset I didn't know what to do. All my Christmas cheer and faith in humanity pretty much flew out the chimney.  I always participate in my community's giving tree programs, and the thought of someone abusing such a worthwhile cause for their own gain made me sick. Did she really have a daughter who needed this gift, or did she not have any children at all and was running some sort of racket?  Either way, my heart shrunk two sizes too small and I made a commitment to never participate in any sort of anonymous giving program again....how could I after seeing what the people are really doing with the generosity of strangers?  This woman had taken any Christmas spirit I had, stomped on it, shredded it, and used it for lining in her bird cage.  

Real life x-ray of my heart; post Christmas Scheist Scheme. 

I drove home that evening, fuming about the whole situation.  The Christmas songs playing in the car made me want to put my fist through the radio.   I finally got home, changed my clothes and decided to go for a walk to blow off some steam.  As I walked through the neighborhood, even the Christmas lights, which I normally love, just pissed me off.  

It wasn't until I walked into Safeway to grab a drink that something began to chip at the ice surrounding my teeny-tiny heart.  There was an old lady counting out change at the counter for some milk and other oddities, and after emptying her purse and pockets, she was $2.12 cents short.  I could tell the clerk was getting upset with her, and he suggested she put something back.  Before I really knew what I was doing, I stepped forward and offered to pay for what she couldn't cover.  When I looked at her, it was the old woman whom I'd helped buy gifts for the giving tree at the mall two weeks prior...the gifts that afternoon which someone tried to return to buy something for them-self.  Here it was, just a little before Christmas and the woman who'd been so generous with the giving tree, couldn't afford to buy all of her groceries.

The woman thanked me profusely, wished me a broken "Merry Christmas" and left. 

I walked home that evening with a lot on my mind and even more on my heart.  That woman's generosity with the giving tree meant even more now that I knew her circumstances.  As I meandered though the neighborhood, I noticed trees sparkling in windows, lights twinkling outside and watched my breath freeze in the cool winter air.  As my heart warmed, I realized that Christmas was so much bigger than the pettiness of  a select few, greedy souls.  A holiday where people can open their hearts to family and strangers alike, regardless of whether they receive recognition for doing so, is so profound it takes my breath away.  I think it can be easy us to let situations like mine at the mall bog us down, but life and man-kind is really never so bad off that bad people outnumber the good-hearted ones.

Merry Christmas to all my friends and family! May this holiday season fill your heart with Christmas spirit, and your bellies with Christmas spirits :)

"Christmas is not a time nor a season, but a state of mind. To cherish peace and goodwill, to be plenteous in mercy, is to have the real spirit of Christmas."
Calvin Coolidge 

My First Time

I don't know why I did it.

Maybe it was because I'm a single girl in a small town. Maybe it was because I have too much time on my hands. Maybe it was because all my friends were doing it. Maybe it was because I heard lots of other people were doing it and I thought I could do it better. Maybe it was because I had too much to drink. Maybe it was because I didn't have enough to drink. I don't know why I did it, but I started my own blog.

Lets be honest...it was probably the alcohol.

So this is my first time posting my very first blog...thanks for being here to share it with me. I should probably start things out by telling you all a little about myself; I grew up on a farm. I hate mushrooms. I'm scared of birds. I was foreign language student of the year in high school. I spend more than an acceptable amount of my income on clothes. I'm a Gemini. I grew up on a steady diet of home canned goods and self deprecating humor. My couch is red. I like my men tall and my coffee iced. I'm always right. I talk to my dog...a lot. I have a dimple when I smile. I'm extremely near-sighted. I'm good at sharing. I love merry-go-rounds.

There...that should be a good start. My overall idea for this blog is to be a panegyric to everything I like, hate and everything in between. From cooking, to annoyances, style tips, general life experiences, etc...If this sounds interesting to you, subscribe today and recommend 5 five friends to do so or RISK BAD LUCK FOR ALL ETERNITY. That's right, eternity. Or you can read it and not recommend any friends, but don't come crying to me if you leave your house and an anvil falls on your head...because you were warned.