Chances are great that the following stories I’ll be whispering to you in this post should not be spoken in such a public place.  However, that has never stopped me before, so why should it now?  The parental unit has been in Flagstaff since Thursday (Mom)/Saturday (Dad) after a minor setback on Thursday night where the engine of the Spazteca threw a rod on the drive up the mountain.  I left work early to fly down the mountain with water and ice for Dad as he waited for Zac to get there with a car dolly in 110+ degree weather and to transport Mom back up the mountain with me.  Since their arrival they have been feverishly helping me finish the cleaning and moving out of my old apartment and last minute touches on the new place.  I probably wouldn’t have needed their assistance if a certain unnamed roommate would have contributed more than just a light dusting of her bedroom with a watery sponge carried out by her boy-fling and current boyfriend on two separate occassions.  Drama, much?  At least, our last week together was spicy, and by spicy I mean, thank goodness (for the first time in four years) I was not the one she was blaming her tears on.

Anyway, we’ve been cleaning and organizing and throwing stuff away and taking all of the necessary steps to return a two-bedroom apartment that has survived over two hundred weekly Kid’s Clubs, four Thanksgiving Dinners and Haunted Houses, and more events than I can even count back to the ‘original move-in state’.  If you’re not currently rolling your eyes, you should be at the preposterous notion that there is a shred of a chance of that apartment looking anything like it did in the summer of 2004.  Let’s be honest… they should feel lucky that my unnamed roommate didn’t burn the place down while creating her culinary nightly masterpiece of Pasta Roni and steamed broccoli stems.  You think I’m joking, but ask anyone.  Girl CAN live by Pasta Roni and Vitamin Water alone.  I found four Tupperware containers of proof in my fridge.  Oh, and if you want/need any sugar-free Instant Oatmeal, vanilla cook & serve pudding mix, or fat-free spray on vinaigrette, I’ve got you covered until 2019.

Ok, moving on… literally and figuratively.  With only a few tasks left to finish up at the old place, I headed in to work today after my parents volunteered to finish up for me.  I’m not quite sure how effective they were with five children under the age of eight expecting them to play jump rope with them and fix their bikes, but now they know how my life has been for the past four years and exactly what I’ll be missing.  By the time I got off work today, Zac had arrived from his drive up and was helping to hang my quilts and wall decor in the new apartment.  (Now, I can finally show you pictures!!!) With the sun setting and everyone exhausted, we headed out to procure some nourishment at the local New Frontiers store.  There’s really truly nothing in the world like four country-folk stumbling into a organic hippie store and trying to appear civilized.  It just doesn’t work.

Finally, devoid of our pride and stuffed with everything but steroids and pesticides, we headed back to my place.  With less than two miles left in our return journey, Mom casually asked if I had my housekeys which I did not because I had given them to her on my way out the door to work this morning so they could come and go as they pleased.  Reminding her of this fact, she quietly confessed that she didn’t have them and had forgotten them when we left for dinner.  Now by this time it was almost nine in the evening and there was no trace of sunlight to be found.  Of couse, the office was no longer open, and I had yet to have a spare made.  So in true family fashion we did what any new resident would do and broke into my new house by removing a shutter and giving Zac a ‘butt-boost’ into th living room window while hoping that no one around us would call the cops on the four loud family members who were bickering about the ‘best’ way to break the law.  It wasn’t until a good hour later that I realized the irony in the relief we felt at the lack of effort it took to get into my apartment.  As you can guess, the number one priority for tomorrow is beefing up security in this place and finding my secret defense mechanism… an oar.  I feel safer already.  Don’t you?

Part of my job as a CaresTeam for the past four years has been meeting and greeting every new resident within their first month in the complex.  We knock on each door and present a gift box of baked goods to them with a welcome card while making sure they know what our upcoming events are and that they don’t need anything or have any questions.  It’s a simple gesture that helps us build relationships and just lets people know that even while they may not know anyone… they matter.  Sunday afternoon Keri and I gathered up our final twenty welcome gift boxes and headed out to meet our last group of new residents.  With the sky dark and threatening to dump on us, we split the boxes in two opting to travel separately this time and meet back at the house.  Less than an hour later, we had both completed all of the twenty visits except for one.

Many of you may have heard me tell tales of ‘creepy new guy’ and his ‘lost’ cat.  If you haven’t, the short story is new guy moves into complex and within the first night loses cat.  I spend two hours helping him search for cat in the dark only for him to find it inside his apartment as soon as I leave.  He then proceeds to start stalking me and knocking on my door all the time to ‘be neighborly’.  I begin to think maybe cat was never lost.  Creepy new guy yells at my favorite munchkins and is just generally creepy with his weird cat on a leash.  As you could guess, our final gift box was for CNG, but after all this time, we’ve learned that for situations like this… we go together.

So CNG lives on the third floor and after delaying the inevitable for more than a few minutes, Keri and I start to trudge up the stairs silently praying that CNG isn’t home.  For this one time, we have prepared to make an exception and not pay him a return vist, but instead plan to leave his prize and run if he doesn’t answer.  As Keri leads the way up the final few steps, she whispers to me that his creepy cat is on the window ledge staring at us.  Both intrigued by this freakazoid cat, we check it out and instanteously realize that not only are CNG’s blinds open but he’s chilling in his bithday suit in a chair watching tv.  Oh, sweet Lord, baby Jesus!!! Now let me just say CNG does not have the body of a god and as he sees us, he hops up out of his chair and in the fractions of a second since I noticed his lack of attire, I am forced into a horrific peep show before my brain can will my neck to turn it for the love of all that is right and holy.  Keri and I were stunned… blinded… with no clue what to do.

Sure, we’d see the guy we call Manties (Man + panties) sunbathing before, but he at least had a speedo on.  This was new territory for us, and before we could react, he had stumbled out the front door wearing a black undershirt that was not only on backwards but inside out so that the tag was flapping under his chin.  Then to make matters even worse, once again my eyes betrayed me as they were drawn down to watch him pull the shirt over his stomach only to realize that we had entered Act #2.  If you thought Act #1 was riveting, well Act #2 took the cake.  Why you make ask… well because it didn’t take long to notice in his hurry to pull athletic shorts on to race outside, he had not pulled them on completely or correctly and well… ummm… yeah, the tip of his penis was peeking out.  I almost lost it.  It took every ounce of self-control within me to not laugh in his face or puke on him.

Oh ,oh, but the story does not end there.  Somehow in the chaos of him running out and us trying to pretend we had not just seen our creepy new neighbor NAKED, he had positioned himself between us and the stairwell, and now because he’s made the effort to dress himself, we should gift with with a conversation.  Uh, excuse me, I don’t want to talk to you with or without clothes!  To top off the most scaring Cares experience ever, he asked us if we wanted to pet and meet his kitty.  (TWSS) In what felt like an eternity of pondering in my head how to respond to such a question without losing my cool or having the cops called on me, I lied and said I we had already been introduced and that Keri was allergic to all cats.    Then with a final prayer I grabbed Keri by the arm, pushed my way past CNG, and hauled butt home.  As soon as we were within the sanctuary of our apartment, we collapsed before dissolving into a fit of giggles.  Of all the reasons, I’ll be sad to leave life as a CaresTeam… you can guess the rest.

Yesterday was our final CaresTeam BBQ, and to be honest, it was bittersweet.  For some unknown reason, I couldn’t do anything right and ended up nearly losing my eyebrows and burning the office down.  Then to add insult to injury, it hailed less than an hour before I was supposed to start grilling.  In the end, we had a great turnout, and well… the pictures speak for themselves.

It was so freakin’ smokey.  I swear I’m happier than I look. Click To Continue Reading…

With Keri moving in two weeks and our favorite little munchkins heading to their grandma’s house for the next three weeks, we decided to invite them over last night for a sleepover/pajama party.  After painting our finger and toenails ‘grape jelly’ purple, we loaded up in my car and headed to the theater to see Kung Fu Panda.  I’ve taken the munchkins to multiple movies, but this one easily takes the cake as craziest experience ever.  After we bought our tickets, I took M (the 3-year old) to use the bathroom while Keri took J (the 8-year old) to find seats.  As the movie began, M crawled up into my lap and within the first 15 minutes fell asleep.  Knowing she was tired and her attention span was low, I let her sleep until all of a sudden my right thigh felt warm and wet.  In the next seven seconds, she somehow managed to pee in her sleep and drench my leg and herself.  Hoping to not cause a scene, I didn’t make a huge fuss of the situation and opted to just ‘deal with it’ when the movie was over.  You see, we were in the middle of a huge aisle, and I had no desire to interrupt 15 people in both exit directions as I tried to get to the bathroom.

Of course, the movie theater had to feel like it was 60 degrees and I had to wonder if the pee was crystalizng on my leg as I sat there praying no one around me would notice the state we were in.  In my head, I just kept playing out the scene where the little boy in front of us starts whispering to his mom asking if she can smell that and then chaos ensues and I wind up in jail.  Yeah, that’s how my brain works.  Thank goodness, the movie ended quickly, and we dashed into Walmart to get M a fresh set of clothes and get her cleaned up.  We could have just taken her home but it was already 7pm, and we had promised the girls Peter Piper Pizza.  We’re push-overs… what can I say?!?!  I swear everything I ever need to know about motherhood (including how to explain to the changing room attendant that your kid had an accident and you promise to remove the tags and pay for the clothes when you checkout) I learned from these munchkins.

M in her new pee-free outfit riding with Spiderman.

My 70+ point domination of Keri in the basketball game.

For our monthly special kids’ event we took the neighborhood kids bowling today. It was the first time most of them had been, and we had a blast. They were so enthusiastic and excited! I got my butt kicked by the other two adults, but as competitive as I am, I’m not that upset. One of them was on a high school bowling team, and the other bowls at least twice a week. At least, none of the kids beat me. I might have cried, and I wish I was joking about that.

Today is June 8th, 2008. Thirty-nine days from now my roommate will officially have moved out of our apartment. Fifty-four days from now I have to be completely moved out. In less than eight weeks, I will no longer be a CaresTeam. This apartment that has survived a fire, four Thanksgiving dinners and haunted houses, countless events, thousands of baked cookies, hundreds of children running in and out, and two of the most diverse roommates ever put together will no longer be home to me, and to be 100% honest, I’m scared to death. I am 26 years-old (27 in 18 days) and have never lived alone. Heck, I’ve never been alone for more than a week at a time in the apartment. I’m a social butterfly. What am I going to do without kids in my living room watching Hannah Montana? Who will I be if I’m not a CaresTeam? What will I do without this purpose that has propelled me for the past 49 months? To you these may seem like silly, irrational questions, but they’ve haunted me for the past month. I’ve fallen in love with my neighbors and their kids, and no longer being a part of their everyday life seems impossible and heart-breaking.

With time running out, I have been apartment hunting for the past few weeks, and holy crap, is it expensive to live alone! In the past week I’ve contact 19 apartment complexes in town and only three of them have availability before September 1st. Of those three, one starts at $875/month for a 1 bedroom ($1225 for a 2 bedroom), and the other doesn’t have a single positive review online out of 23 online. I’ve looked at houses for rent but don’t really want to pay $1400 a month to live 20 minutes outside of Flagstaff and don’t know of anyone I could room with to split rent. I’ve considered the possibility of just renting a room, but have you seen my house?!? I have more kitchen and cooking supplies than most married women. You have to to do the things we’ve done. I’ve even scoured CraigsList and the local newspaper and have come up empty-handed until today.

Ever had a thought that rests in the back of your mind that you dismiss until out-of-the-blue you realize what a great plan it was. There’s an apartment complex in town that two separate friends of mine have lived in at different times. It’s tucked away close to campus and isn’t comprised of massive buildings but instead mobile home-like structures that contain both a 1 and 2 bedroom apartment. Not many people know of this complex and because it doesn’t have its own website I didn’t come across it as I did my online apartment research. Then as I was pondering emergency plans like living in my office or commuting from a nearby town, I remembered these particular apartments andhow cute and private the area was and how both of my friends appeared to have liked living there. So I called them both and asked for their honest opinion, grabbed one of my most honest friends, and went to tour the models.

From start to finish, I was impressed with what this complex offered. Gone were the gimmicks and hidden strings attached. Unlike most massive complexes, I would only share one wall with a neighbor and would have parking directly outside of my door. The floor plan was open without being cavernous or overwhelming, and there was tons of cabinet and storage space. After looking at both the 1 and 2 bedroom models and asking the leasing agent every question I could come up with, I decided I preferred the 2 bedroom apartment and walked away feeling positive about the experience and opportunity to live there. Now, I just have to apply.

Despite how awesome this place sounds and was, I want to be sure that this is the right place for me. So I’ve decided to wait until the end of the week to apply. Why? Well, because if I truly believe that God has this whole situation under control, then I want to take a few days to pray about my decision. I don’t want to act rashly and make a desperate decision based upon relief at finding a place that is not the right place. Currently, they have five 2 bedroom apartments available so I have no really worry that by this time next week, the apartment I’m praying over will be gone. I’m sure part of me is waiting patiently for guidance because a large part of who I am is praying for a miracle. Praying that this season in my life isn’t over and that I’m not being asked to step away from something I so desperately love. I guess, soon enough, I’ll know and then I’ll be begging you to help me move. So if prayer is something you put faith in, pray for me. I could use it.

My music post is actually going to happen tomorrow or Saturday this week. Why? Well, because my day went a bit like this…

• 5:00 am: Woke with a migraine (I love you, Excedrin)
• 10:00 am: Finally drag myself to work to find that everything is broken at new office.
• 1:00 pm: Go to old office. Fight with Japanese laptop. Stay at work til 5.
• 5:05 pm: Start grilling at BBQ for 50 neighbors. Grill 50 hamburgers and 80 hot dogs in next two hours. (Might have met my twin who was visting his mom from NYC. Loves Steely Dan AND talking about sports. ) Clean up after BBQ.
• 9:00 pm: Go to Ian’s to play RockBand and bake cookies. Officially, rolled my first d20.
• 11:50 pm: Made homemade guacamole for Erica’s graduation BBQ tomorrow.
• 11:55 pm:  Blog before collapsing into bed.

Until then I leave you with two things: My first pic of RockBand and Cory rockin’ out.