The Cheese Table and Other Adventures

This was a banner day.

The mobile phone I previously used, an LG Marquee, was originally purchased as a point-of-entry phone to a new mobile service. I did not want to buy a higher-end phone at the time until I had faith in the carrier, Ting, a Sprint MVNO that has rates a human being can actually understand. The coverage is generally good, although it can get touchy when I’m out at Gonfalon. But that is the case with many carriers; some sort of hole or triangle seems to have converged on that spot that zaps mobile phone signals.

Anyway, the Marquee has gotten mighty sluggish of late, and I decided it was time to upgrade. Today I took delivery of an iPhone 5 (one new development with Ting for the last year or so was its ability to carry certain models of iPhone). I had forgotten what a difference it can make to have a good phone. I’m sure I’ll be bugging people with panoramic photographs soon enough (can’t wait to shoot one out at the farm).

Dad also helped me deliver two key pieces of furniture today; my office chair and this short table that Hic found for five bucks and that my Dad stabilized mightily with extra nuts and bolts. I have needed a piece in my studio apartment to give me just a little bit more counter space. This is that piece. It’s perfect.

cheese table

I will most often use the thing for preparing the cheese and Triscuits snack that so often fortifies me. So it’s a “cheese table” to me. What it means though is extra counter space, an extra drawer, another shelf, and all that at a size that isn’t too obnoxious.

We ended the day with blackened catfish, sweet corn from a farmer’s stand that may be the best corn I’ve ever eaten, and broccolies right from the back yard. A bannner day, indeed. Did I mention how beautiful the weather was today?

Window 2.0

This time I heard the folded up notice as it was slipped under my apartment door as I was trying to catch one more little nap before it was time to make ready for the job. I managed to roll over and catch a bit more sleep before rolling out of futon for shower.

I reviewed the note. Building management will have contractors in my apartment tomorrow to “complete work on a window in your bathroom.”

I hated to have to tell them that there is not a window in my bathroom.

But I did anyway. I gave the office a ring and told the guy the contractors could spare themselves the trip because, I promise. There is no window in my bathroom to work on.

He had to put me on hold to check. Then he came back.

“No, no,” he said. “They’re going to INSTALL a window in your bathroom. There’s apparently a frame for it, and they’re going to put one in.”

So, there’s that. At some point tomorrow, there will be guys in my apartment taking a sledge to the wall.

Meet The Residents

It’s the small victories when you’re trying to make a teeny tiny living space work. This week, it was the plate rack.

The kitchen cabinets, they are small. I had been getting by on just stacking whatever the heck dishes I could in the one near the sink. This included dishes of the eat-now-at-home type and dishes of the store/take-food-to-work type. The problem being that often when I just wanted to plop down and eat a burrito or my normal nosh of Triscuits and sharp cheddar cheese, I had trouble locating a plate. Don’t even get me started on trying to find a clean glass.

So I ventured to Bed Bath and Whatevah yesterday and found a little rack that fits nicely in the corner of the cabinet. And, by executive fiat, I declared that the cabinet in question would only be for the eat-now-at-home type of dish.

I don’t know where the store/take-food-to-work type of dishes are going to go. They’ll just stay in that box for now.

Next, I found a dish cart, the kind restaurants use, that, with a little help from a friend, I’ll take delivery of Friday. This will solve another problem I’ve found with living in a tiny little space: Where do you put the dirty dishes?

They end up in the sink, on the stove, on the itty bitty counters, everywhere.

This makes actually washing them a bit of a challenge. Thus, the two professional-grade bus pans and the professional-grade dish cart. Hoping to install a molhagger dish drying rack on top of the cart just for added convenience. No more drying dishes over the bathtub!

It’s a glamorous life.

“The original pressing of the album sold poorly, reportedly selling only forty copies in its first year, with most being returned to the publisher unopened.”

That’s my kind of record.

Seriously. This is a friggin’ classic. Though it might cause seizures in some humans.

A New Adventure

I don’t know if blogging is just plain dead due to the advent of the social networkings and all, or if I’m just too damned old for it, or if my blog just plain sucks and I don’t feel like anyone is reading or that I even want anyone to read anymore. But I don’t want this thing to die anyway. I’ve been writing here for too long whatever the reason for my recent ennui regarding this and other blogging and generally Web projects.

Regardless. I’m sitting in my new adventure now, a studio apartment in downtown Rochester that I’ve had the task of civilizing ever since I signed the lease. I am marveling, I mean just marveling about the first challenge match of The Voice, where the Scottish kid and the redneck are about to sing “Carry On Wayward Son” again. Again, because I have rewound it on the TiVo because I am incredulous that these two were not coached to bring any harmony whatsoever to the song. None. Nope, it’s getting the old Bananarama treatment from these fellows, despite the ample opportunities to bring attention to the notion on national television that, once upon a time, singers used to do this thing call “harmony.” One of the masters of this practice was a band called “Kansas.” To sing this song with two vocalists and not to bring any harmony to the party has left my jaw on the ground. What a weird choice.

For a long time, I didn’t bother to move in. It was messy. Clutter on the floor in front of the main closet so I couldn’t get to it. I was on track to buy a house for a while but was wisely advised against it; wisdom that carries further today than I could have imagined. I have been overwhelmed by some time with the task of setting up a studio apartment. A house. Good gravity. But I finally put in the time this past weekend, and the place is feeling cozy. More time this morning to unload more things. Set up my turntable. Grand Diversion Station #63 is coming together, with TV I get sans cable bill thanks to a lovely HD antenna in the window. Crystal clear reception. I cleaned deeply on Saturday, though there is more to do.

I don’t understand the previous tenants. There are problems in this little studio that had gone on for a while. Today the maintenance man had to replace the disposal and the trap in the kitchen completely due to the leak. I’ve had the faucet in the shower replaced because when I first moved in there was no cold water. The tops of the kitchen cabinets have not been cleaned in eons. The one above the stove is gonna require the scrubbing bubble guys.

But when I’m through, this is going to be a much different place than the one I moved into. It’s gonna be cozy. And clean. And moving from a big rural farm with your family into a little place in the city on your own is a big transition, from how you cook to how you do the dishes to how you keep your schedule. And so far, it’s been bumpy sometimes. But I’m growing into it. Digging it quite a lot, actually.

It’s still echo-ey in here. But I am fortunate to have gotten to make this transition using the method with which I work best, methodically, thoughtfully, incrementally. Having supportive family nearby is helpful. I get to go visit and nom nom nom on their food from time to time, and then to throw a load of my things into my car, and then to arrange it as it is needed, as I have slowly planned.

So far, the new adventure is often that mundane. Most adventures are, to be clear. A lot of waiting and watching and doing the grunt work. But I’m having some fun.

Maybe I’ll blog here once in a while now. Even though I’m pretty sure blogging, at least as an individual expression, is pretty much dead due to the Twitter Facebook Pinterest Industrial Complex.