Winter is just around the corner. This poses a bit of a problem for two people who live in a barely insulated log cabin with a poor excuse for a heating system. Last Friday night the temperature dropped to about 35 degrees Farenheit outside. Well, it was probably just as cold inside the house if not colder. See our little cabin has this magical way of preserving the cold instead of keeping it out. It can be nice and sunny and warm outside but as soon as you step through the door you feel the drop in temperature.
On this particular night--even while wearing 3 layers of clothing, thick socks, a hood, and two blankets--I could not get warm. It was the worst night's sleep I have had since living here. I woke up about 5 times during the night curled up in the fetal position. But nothing could help me get warm. You can imagine how grumpy I was the next morning.
Thankfully we had people come to our rescue. My roommate's aunt and uncle who live 5 minutes away came over for brunch that day. They are very knowledgeable and gave us many tips on how to winterize this place, keep warm, and maximize what we have.
They switched on the fuse that allows the electric heaters in our rooms to work, helped light the pilot that gets the propane heat going, and advised us to put up plastic on the porch windows (this creates a greenhouse effect that would capture the sunlight creating warmth that can be let into the house, absorbed, and then let off at night when the temperature cools down). You can imagine how relieved I was after their visit. Knowing we will survive the winter ahead takes away a lot of the stress I was holding on to.
That afternoon I went out and bought 2 more blankets for my bed and cranked up the heat. It was a wonderfully warm sleep!
Then of course, these past few days the temp has been in the 50s and 60s so that the heat and blankets have been completely unnecessary. The universe would play such a trick on me. Oh well, at least now we are prepared.
Until next time...
Thursday, October 28
Friday, October 15
Working Girl
I can hardly believe I've gone this long with out writing a blog about my job. I guess it's because it takes up so much of my time that I grab any chance to be away from it--physically and mentally.
To support myself, I am now working full time as a waitress. I used to have this romanticized idea of what it would be like to waitress. I thought it would bring in lots of cash in a short amount of time and be mostly worry-free. I mean, how hard can it be to take someone's order and bring out their food, right? Wrong.
Maybe if I was working part time it wouldn't be that bad. 3-4 good nights a week could bring in a decent amount of money and still leave me with plenty of time to do other things. But, unfortunately, that is not the case. I work 5 days a week usually 3 double shifts (meaning lunch and dinner 11am to 10pm) and 2 single shifts (meaning only dinner 4pm to 11pm). Needless to say, it is exhausting. Still, it might be worth it if I was raking in the doe but no. Lately, things have been very slow at the restaurant and I've been bringing home less and less each day.
See, as a waitress I depend on tips to make my living. Our wages are next to nothing $2.89/hr before taxes. So really our livelihood rests on the generosity of our customers. And that is something you cannot expect to be consistent. Some people are just plain cheap no matter how good a server you are, some people don't even know what the appropriate tip should be, and some people are just jerks. It's a toss up. You have good days and bad days; hopefully they balance out and you can pay your bills.
Working a full time job and having to pay rent, utilities, groceries, transportation and all the other unexpected living expenses has forced me to be more responsible with my money. To budget and save and plan ahead. I was always pretty responsible with my money, but before I only worked part time jobs for spending cash. I didn't have all these worries and financial stresses. Now I do. It takes a toll.
One more step further into adulthood I guess. Independence is not all fun and games. So far, it has been an adventure, but not a day in the park. I'm hoping to survive this attempt and come out of it stronger and wiser. Keep your fingers crossed for me.
Until next time...
To support myself, I am now working full time as a waitress. I used to have this romanticized idea of what it would be like to waitress. I thought it would bring in lots of cash in a short amount of time and be mostly worry-free. I mean, how hard can it be to take someone's order and bring out their food, right? Wrong.
Maybe if I was working part time it wouldn't be that bad. 3-4 good nights a week could bring in a decent amount of money and still leave me with plenty of time to do other things. But, unfortunately, that is not the case. I work 5 days a week usually 3 double shifts (meaning lunch and dinner 11am to 10pm) and 2 single shifts (meaning only dinner 4pm to 11pm). Needless to say, it is exhausting. Still, it might be worth it if I was raking in the doe but no. Lately, things have been very slow at the restaurant and I've been bringing home less and less each day.
See, as a waitress I depend on tips to make my living. Our wages are next to nothing $2.89/hr before taxes. So really our livelihood rests on the generosity of our customers. And that is something you cannot expect to be consistent. Some people are just plain cheap no matter how good a server you are, some people don't even know what the appropriate tip should be, and some people are just jerks. It's a toss up. You have good days and bad days; hopefully they balance out and you can pay your bills.
Working a full time job and having to pay rent, utilities, groceries, transportation and all the other unexpected living expenses has forced me to be more responsible with my money. To budget and save and plan ahead. I was always pretty responsible with my money, but before I only worked part time jobs for spending cash. I didn't have all these worries and financial stresses. Now I do. It takes a toll.
One more step further into adulthood I guess. Independence is not all fun and games. So far, it has been an adventure, but not a day in the park. I'm hoping to survive this attempt and come out of it stronger and wiser. Keep your fingers crossed for me.
Until next time...
Friday, October 8
RIPTA stands for:
Rhode Island Public Transportation Authority. I have been a regular RIPTA rider for a month now so I’ve learned a thing or two about it. Although I have a valid New Jersey driver’s license I do not own a car and so resort to taking the bus. At first, coming from a place where you can take a bus-jitney-train-subway-taxi anywhere anytime, I was daunted by the inefficiency and infrequency of the RIPTA system. However, in the past few weeks I’ve learned to work with it.
To get to work I walk 10 minutes from our house to the bus stop, the bus picks me up then drops me off at the closest shopping plaza where I wait 10 minutes for another bus to pick me up then drop me off at the mall which is a 2 minute walk from my job. In order to make it on time I must leave the house an hour before my shift begins. By car, it takes 15 minutes--tops, but by RIPTA bus it takes 40. Not to mention the fact that they are rarely on time, sometimes very late and sometimes very early. So far though, I’ve only ever missed the bus once so I think I’m handling it well.
I’ve even learned to appreciate RIPTA and all it has to offer. For instance, I get my monthly bus pass for 1/2 price by posing as a university student saving me $30. Since not many people ride the bus on a regular basis I am recognized by the bus drivers and have formed something of a relationship with them. They are friendly and helpful and look out for me. Riding the bus also makes for excellent people watching as only the most out there characters dare use public transportation (ok ok and the occasional student too). Plus, I get a lovely view of all the oceanfront properties and the beach on my way to work. It’s kind of peaceful--I can just sit, daydream, read, think and not worry about driving or traffic. So there are pros and cons to my daily commute, just like everything else in life.
And now I must go eat lunch and get ready for work in order to catch the bus an hour before my shift starts.
Until next time...
To get to work I walk 10 minutes from our house to the bus stop, the bus picks me up then drops me off at the closest shopping plaza where I wait 10 minutes for another bus to pick me up then drop me off at the mall which is a 2 minute walk from my job. In order to make it on time I must leave the house an hour before my shift begins. By car, it takes 15 minutes--tops, but by RIPTA bus it takes 40. Not to mention the fact that they are rarely on time, sometimes very late and sometimes very early. So far though, I’ve only ever missed the bus once so I think I’m handling it well.
I’ve even learned to appreciate RIPTA and all it has to offer. For instance, I get my monthly bus pass for 1/2 price by posing as a university student saving me $30. Since not many people ride the bus on a regular basis I am recognized by the bus drivers and have formed something of a relationship with them. They are friendly and helpful and look out for me. Riding the bus also makes for excellent people watching as only the most out there characters dare use public transportation (ok ok and the occasional student too). Plus, I get a lovely view of all the oceanfront properties and the beach on my way to work. It’s kind of peaceful--I can just sit, daydream, read, think and not worry about driving or traffic. So there are pros and cons to my daily commute, just like everything else in life.
And now I must go eat lunch and get ready for work in order to catch the bus an hour before my shift starts.
Until next time...
Wednesday, September 22
Our little friend Cornelius
The house we live in is more of a log cabin than anything else. Some would say it's small, but I think it's a perfect size for us. There are two bedrooms, one bathroom, a small kitchen, a sizable living room, and a loft. Plus a screened in porch--one of my favorite spots (and the only place I can mooch off someone's free internet). It's an old house that easily accumulates cobwebs and dust, but it has charm.
We also have a nice little yard with a white picket fence and a beautiful hydrangea tree that makes me wish I knew how to paint so I could capture its beauty on canvas. There are lots of bushes and small trees and marsh plants surrounding our yard. When I sit out on the porch I can watch birds flit from tree to tree and insects buzz up against the screen. On a clear night I can see the stars. Something I really appreciate coming from a place where you see about 5 stars at most due to light pollution.
Something I don't quite appreciate but have learned to live with are the little creatures that find their way into our home. We have too many spiders to count. In every little corner and crevice there is a little spider crawling around. Someone suffering from arachnophobia would not survive in this place.
And then there's Cornelius. We found out about him one night about two weeks ago. My boyfriend, for lack of a better term (I won't go into this tangent right now, but I don't like the label--I find it juvenile and lacking. It does not do our relationship justice. However, I have not found a better term so I guess it will have to do), was visiting. He and I were sitting on the couch in the living room watching Casablanca when all of a sudden he said "You have a mouse." I hadn't caught a glimpse of him, but apparently a little mouse had scurried across our kitchen floor from under the cabinet to under the fridge and back again. The next day my roommate also spotted him. I didn't get to see him until a few days later when she and I were sitting on the couch watching yet another black and white classic. He is long and skinny and brown. I don't mind sharing our house with him as long as he doesn't get into our food or defecate in our pots and pans. In fact, I think he's kind of cute and it seems fitting that we would have a little mouse in this house. So, I decided to name our little friend and a few days ago "Cornelius" was what popped into my head.
We actually haven't seen Cornelius for a few days now. There was a strange smell coming from the kitchen and I feared he had died tragically, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Anyway, I hope he's alright and that we will catch a glimpse of him again soon. Perhaps we'll pop in another black and white movie tonight, since that seems to be when he likes to make an appearance.
Until next time...
We also have a nice little yard with a white picket fence and a beautiful hydrangea tree that makes me wish I knew how to paint so I could capture its beauty on canvas. There are lots of bushes and small trees and marsh plants surrounding our yard. When I sit out on the porch I can watch birds flit from tree to tree and insects buzz up against the screen. On a clear night I can see the stars. Something I really appreciate coming from a place where you see about 5 stars at most due to light pollution.
Something I don't quite appreciate but have learned to live with are the little creatures that find their way into our home. We have too many spiders to count. In every little corner and crevice there is a little spider crawling around. Someone suffering from arachnophobia would not survive in this place.
And then there's Cornelius. We found out about him one night about two weeks ago. My boyfriend, for lack of a better term (I won't go into this tangent right now, but I don't like the label--I find it juvenile and lacking. It does not do our relationship justice. However, I have not found a better term so I guess it will have to do), was visiting. He and I were sitting on the couch in the living room watching Casablanca when all of a sudden he said "You have a mouse." I hadn't caught a glimpse of him, but apparently a little mouse had scurried across our kitchen floor from under the cabinet to under the fridge and back again. The next day my roommate also spotted him. I didn't get to see him until a few days later when she and I were sitting on the couch watching yet another black and white classic. He is long and skinny and brown. I don't mind sharing our house with him as long as he doesn't get into our food or defecate in our pots and pans. In fact, I think he's kind of cute and it seems fitting that we would have a little mouse in this house. So, I decided to name our little friend and a few days ago "Cornelius" was what popped into my head.
We actually haven't seen Cornelius for a few days now. There was a strange smell coming from the kitchen and I feared he had died tragically, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Anyway, I hope he's alright and that we will catch a glimpse of him again soon. Perhaps we'll pop in another black and white movie tonight, since that seems to be when he likes to make an appearance.
Until next time...
Wednesday, September 15
Rhode Island's where it's at
So, my best friend had just graduated college and started a job. She did not want to go back home to live with her parents. Instead she wanted to find a place of her own and needed a roommate to do so. Inspiration! She had this crazy idea that we should get a place together.
To understand this fully you have to know some background info on me. I was born in Manhattan and raised in New Jersey. Lived my whole life in the same little town. My best friend and I met in the 7th grade. Our sophomore year of high school her whole family moved up to Rhode Island and we were separated. But, surprisingly, our friendship grew stronger through constant contact and frequent visits. Now, we have been friends for 10 years but most of that time has actually been spent apart--living in different states.
When she had this crazy idea, I was still living in New Jersey with my parents. Not all that much was going on in my life. I was thinking about getting a new job since I'd just quit my previous one and I was itching to get out of the house to live on my own. It all seemed to fit really well. For once we would be in the same state, same city, same house. We could go out and borrow each other's clothes and have fun as friends should do.
To be honest, I was a bit skeptical of the idea at first. Sure, it sounded fun but could we pull it off? I had to find a job that would bring in enough cash to pay for rent, utilities, and living expenses. We had to find a place to live that we could both afford. I had to break it to my parents...and we were running out of time.
Well, it all came together in a matter of a week. I found a job, we found an affordable place to live, and my parents were actually very supportive. Fate? Maybe.
In any case, I am now living in Rhode Island--on my own for the first time in my life. It's been about 2 weeks since we moved in and now that we are settled I thought I'd start a blog about my impressions of and experiences in this tiny state. So far, there's already so many interesting little quirks. It's definitely very different from where I grew up.
We are calling this our adventure--an adventurous attempt at adulthood. A test to see if we can survive while supporting ourselves and living in the same house together. Let's see what happens.
Until next time...
To understand this fully you have to know some background info on me. I was born in Manhattan and raised in New Jersey. Lived my whole life in the same little town. My best friend and I met in the 7th grade. Our sophomore year of high school her whole family moved up to Rhode Island and we were separated. But, surprisingly, our friendship grew stronger through constant contact and frequent visits. Now, we have been friends for 10 years but most of that time has actually been spent apart--living in different states.
When she had this crazy idea, I was still living in New Jersey with my parents. Not all that much was going on in my life. I was thinking about getting a new job since I'd just quit my previous one and I was itching to get out of the house to live on my own. It all seemed to fit really well. For once we would be in the same state, same city, same house. We could go out and borrow each other's clothes and have fun as friends should do.
To be honest, I was a bit skeptical of the idea at first. Sure, it sounded fun but could we pull it off? I had to find a job that would bring in enough cash to pay for rent, utilities, and living expenses. We had to find a place to live that we could both afford. I had to break it to my parents...and we were running out of time.
Well, it all came together in a matter of a week. I found a job, we found an affordable place to live, and my parents were actually very supportive. Fate? Maybe.
In any case, I am now living in Rhode Island--on my own for the first time in my life. It's been about 2 weeks since we moved in and now that we are settled I thought I'd start a blog about my impressions of and experiences in this tiny state. So far, there's already so many interesting little quirks. It's definitely very different from where I grew up.
We are calling this our adventure--an adventurous attempt at adulthood. A test to see if we can survive while supporting ourselves and living in the same house together. Let's see what happens.
Until next time...
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