On Saturday, I was nearly wriggling with excitement as the three of us piled into the car. At last, I was to see and explore the famous Jewel Cave! The second-longest cave in the world, Jewel Cave is currently over 146 miles long, and is still being further explored. Inside are incredible rock and mineral formations, which give the cave its name.
On my suggestion, we had purchased tickets (you have to get them in advance if you want to get in, as tour groups are small and the cave is very popular) for the "Lantern Tour." This tour is a 1936-stylized tour in which guests get to spend nearly two hours inside the cave, using oil lanterns to light their way. I figured this would be a unique way in which to view the cave, and certainly an experience that we would be unable to find elsewhere. Boy was I right!
Our tour had only one thing that made it less than a marvelous experience: the tour guide. The Parks Service has done their usual bang-up job in preserving and maintaining the area - it really is a great place. The visitors center, as is usually the case at places like this, is well-done and informative. The other employees of the Parks Service that we ran across were the usual friendly and welcoming people that I have come to expect at sites such as these. Sadly, our guide seems to be the fly in the ointment.
To start off, the fellow came across as a cold fish - he never once came within binocular-viewing distance of a smile. His voice was inarticulate and resembled primeval grunting better suited to a Hollywood version of the Stone Age. He constantly tripped up on dates and basic facts concerning the cave. When it came to either history or science, this young man was clearly way out of his element. Honestly, I am disappointed in the Parks Service for letting an individual like this give tours - he is far better suited to work in an environment in which he will have little or no human contact.
As far as the cave went, it was awesome. And terrifying. We climbed down and up 716 cringingly-narrow steps over the course of our expedition, and it is only by the grace of God that a klutz such as me came out alive. The one time that I tripped, I was fortunate enough to fall forward after a top step and land on my (previously-injured) knees on solid rock. No complaints here; I'm just glad that I didn't have a far more spectacular and deadly fall! I held onto every possible railing so tightly that future scientists will have the privilege of studying my finger indentations!
The rock formations in the cave were such as I have never seen. Some resembled enormous kernels of popcorn, while others looked remarkably like huge snakes or mythical creatures. In the near-darkness, it was hard to see most of the "jewels" that give the cave its name, but I did occasionally glimpse some spectacular crystals. Overall, I rate the cave as highly worth seeing (and the price is hard to beat, too).
Following the cave, we took a long scenic drive through Custer State Park, which we had read would be teaming with rampant wildlife. Apparently, every moveable creature, including the insects, are currently on summer holiday from the park, most likely in an effort to escape the thousands of motorcyclists who have swarmed South Dakota for the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. Oh, well. At least I got to see a cool cave.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Calamity Stephanie (South Dakota, Day 3)
Today we drove out to Deadwood, once famous as the most lawless, immoral city in the USA. It was also once the home of Calamity Jane and Wild Bill Hickock, two colorful characters about whom I have often enjoyed studying. (And of course, I have spent many happy hours watching the films "Calamity Jane" and "The Plainsman" over and over and over...)
To begin our visit to that famous, or rather, infamous, city, we started out at the Days of '76 Museum, which I had read very little about in the numerous South Dakota tourism literature that I have perused on and prior to this trip. In fact, the only reason I wanted to visit was because I had heard that they currently possess the original Deadwood Stage (stagecoach), and I wanted to see that. I had no warning that we were about to enter one of the best museums I have ever had the privilege of exploring.
The Days of '76 Museum runs on donations, not admission, which automatically endears me to any museum or historic site. I believe that history belongs to the people, as they are the progenitors and authors of it, and thus it is unfair, even unethical, to charge exorbitant prices to view it. Certainly it takes money to run and maintain a site, but I believe that this money should be earned through the donations of grateful visitors and through gift shop sales. It pains and irritates me when I am unable to share in the wealth of knowledge that a museum or historical site has to offer, merely because the price tag on such an experience is too costly for a poor little schoolteacher. Okay, soapbox over!
As I said, this museum had the laudable trait of accepting donations rather than admission fees. Now again, I was not expecting anything spectacular yet, as none of the tourism literature had had much to say on this particular museum. Well, the literature needs to be rewritten. South Dakota is housing yet another hidden gem, and that gem is the Days of '76 Museum!
We first viewed the fifty-three coaches/wagons/phaetons in the museums possession, many of which have been beautifully restored. An endearingly sweet and knowledgeable older gentleman conducted the three of us through the entire museum, telling us far more than we could have otherwise learned. Following the wagons and such, we moved on to room after room, all filled to the brim with pioneer, Native American, and military paraphernalia. It was an astounding collection that would certainly have the Smithsonian drooling eagerly, had they any idea of the riches held in those rooms. Upon learning that I am a teacher, our excellent guide gave me some extra tidbits of information to color my lectures with, and then followed that up by giving me a piece of sinew to show to my students (sinew comes from a tendon on the back of a buffalo, and was used by the Native Americans as thread).
After such a treasure of a museum, the rest of Deadwood was rather disappointing. History is overcrowded by casinos and saloons in Deadwood. Although these industries helped found the town in the past, it is sad to see these vices now crowding out the chance to really see and experience history. So much could be done with that town, and so much isn't.
The Adam's museum, which we visited next, is another museum filled with treasures. However, it paled when compared to the Days of '76 Museum, so I would advise other visitors to see the Adam's Museum first, so as to enjoy it more. It houses an excellent collection which taught not only Deadwood's history, but also history of American westward expansion. Unfortunately, the layout is not chronological, and comes across as just a jumbled collection of items with some traits in common. There really is little obvious purpose or message in the way or order in the exhibits are assembled and displayed. By placing numbers by each item, and then having books in which the visitors must look up the numbers if they wish to know about the item, the museum is limiting how much visitors can and will learn. I really hope that someday soon one or more of the curators wakes up to this fact. Being a self-guided museum does nothing to help the confusing layout.
Following the Adam's Museum, we went to Mount Moriah Cemetery, where both Calamity Jane and Wild Bill Hickock are buried, side by side (as per Calamity Jane's dying request). This attractive cemetery boasts stunning views of the South Dakota countryside. Sadly for klutzes like me, however, it also boasts extremely steep paths and roads. On the way down from the steep hike up to the grave of Seth Bullock (the justifiably celebrated first sheriff of Deadwood and a close friend of Teddy Roosevelt), my right ankle twisted around, and down I fell! I landed with full force on my knees, which did not appreciate their introduction to the gravel-covered asphalt. As a result of my collision with the ground, I now have a twisted and swollen ankle, two skinned-up knees, and a skinned hand as souvenirs. The unfortunate klutz lives on!
Tomorrow, regardless of my physical pain (which is considerable at the moment), I will be journeying to Jewel Cave with my parents. I am looking forward to a 1930's style lantern tour, although my excitement is somewhat dampened by the knowledge that, with my luck, I'll most likely leave with further painful "souvenirs."
To begin our visit to that famous, or rather, infamous, city, we started out at the Days of '76 Museum, which I had read very little about in the numerous South Dakota tourism literature that I have perused on and prior to this trip. In fact, the only reason I wanted to visit was because I had heard that they currently possess the original Deadwood Stage (stagecoach), and I wanted to see that. I had no warning that we were about to enter one of the best museums I have ever had the privilege of exploring.
The Days of '76 Museum runs on donations, not admission, which automatically endears me to any museum or historic site. I believe that history belongs to the people, as they are the progenitors and authors of it, and thus it is unfair, even unethical, to charge exorbitant prices to view it. Certainly it takes money to run and maintain a site, but I believe that this money should be earned through the donations of grateful visitors and through gift shop sales. It pains and irritates me when I am unable to share in the wealth of knowledge that a museum or historical site has to offer, merely because the price tag on such an experience is too costly for a poor little schoolteacher. Okay, soapbox over!
As I said, this museum had the laudable trait of accepting donations rather than admission fees. Now again, I was not expecting anything spectacular yet, as none of the tourism literature had had much to say on this particular museum. Well, the literature needs to be rewritten. South Dakota is housing yet another hidden gem, and that gem is the Days of '76 Museum!
We first viewed the fifty-three coaches/wagons/phaetons in the museums possession, many of which have been beautifully restored. An endearingly sweet and knowledgeable older gentleman conducted the three of us through the entire museum, telling us far more than we could have otherwise learned. Following the wagons and such, we moved on to room after room, all filled to the brim with pioneer, Native American, and military paraphernalia. It was an astounding collection that would certainly have the Smithsonian drooling eagerly, had they any idea of the riches held in those rooms. Upon learning that I am a teacher, our excellent guide gave me some extra tidbits of information to color my lectures with, and then followed that up by giving me a piece of sinew to show to my students (sinew comes from a tendon on the back of a buffalo, and was used by the Native Americans as thread).
After such a treasure of a museum, the rest of Deadwood was rather disappointing. History is overcrowded by casinos and saloons in Deadwood. Although these industries helped found the town in the past, it is sad to see these vices now crowding out the chance to really see and experience history. So much could be done with that town, and so much isn't.
The Adam's museum, which we visited next, is another museum filled with treasures. However, it paled when compared to the Days of '76 Museum, so I would advise other visitors to see the Adam's Museum first, so as to enjoy it more. It houses an excellent collection which taught not only Deadwood's history, but also history of American westward expansion. Unfortunately, the layout is not chronological, and comes across as just a jumbled collection of items with some traits in common. There really is little obvious purpose or message in the way or order in the exhibits are assembled and displayed. By placing numbers by each item, and then having books in which the visitors must look up the numbers if they wish to know about the item, the museum is limiting how much visitors can and will learn. I really hope that someday soon one or more of the curators wakes up to this fact. Being a self-guided museum does nothing to help the confusing layout.
Following the Adam's Museum, we went to Mount Moriah Cemetery, where both Calamity Jane and Wild Bill Hickock are buried, side by side (as per Calamity Jane's dying request). This attractive cemetery boasts stunning views of the South Dakota countryside. Sadly for klutzes like me, however, it also boasts extremely steep paths and roads. On the way down from the steep hike up to the grave of Seth Bullock (the justifiably celebrated first sheriff of Deadwood and a close friend of Teddy Roosevelt), my right ankle twisted around, and down I fell! I landed with full force on my knees, which did not appreciate their introduction to the gravel-covered asphalt. As a result of my collision with the ground, I now have a twisted and swollen ankle, two skinned-up knees, and a skinned hand as souvenirs. The unfortunate klutz lives on!
Tomorrow, regardless of my physical pain (which is considerable at the moment), I will be journeying to Jewel Cave with my parents. I am looking forward to a 1930's style lantern tour, although my excitement is somewhat dampened by the knowledge that, with my luck, I'll most likely leave with further painful "souvenirs."
Friday, July 31, 2009
Dances with Wranglers (South Dakota, Day 2)
Today the great state of South Dakota yielded up even more delights for us. We started out our day with a trek up to a place I have wanted to visit ever since I was a little girl. Yup, Mount Rushmore!
In pictures, Mount Rushmore always looks colossal, with the four presidential heads (George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt, and Abraham Lincoln, respectively) completely dominating the Black Hills landscape. In real life, Mount Rushmore is much smaller than I expected. It still was amazing to see, though, and I certainly commend the National Parks Service for the fine job they have done in keeping the place up so well, and keeping costs down (there is no admission cost, only a $10 parking fee good for multiple days). One thing that stood out particularly to me (actually, I have thought of this many times over the years), is the fact that Calvin Coolidge was President when they began the project, and agreed to federal funding for it, but he never tried to make his own face one of those carved into the mountain. If they were to carve Mount Rushmore today, you can bet the current president would certainly make sure his mug was up there (that's not an Obama dig - I believe any recent or future President would be that way). Coolidge had class!
Immediately after Mount Rushmore, we made the very appropriate decision to go to the Crazy Horse monument. It's not finished yet, but it still put Rushmore in the dust! All that is completed so far is Crazy Horse's head and part of his arm, and the rest will probably not be completed in my lifetime. It is a beautiful, momentous tribute to Native American history, and it's abut time, too. In addition to the work-in-progress monument being carved into a mountain, there is also a fantastic Indian museum there, which took up a considerable amount of our time. It was almost as impressive as the Smithsonian's Museum of the American Indian in Washington, DC. There were also numerous Native American artisans displaying and selling their beautiful work. Most impressive is the fact that Crazy Horse is being created entirely without federal help - all the funds have been raised through admissions, the gift shop, and donations.
In the evening, we stopped off at Fort Hays, which houses some of the sets used in the film "Dances with Wolves." It wasn't terribly impressive, but it made a nice diversion while we were waiting for dinner. For that important meal, we ate at the Flying T, which has a chuck-wagon dinner followed by a musical show. I couldn't believe how tender and juicy my roast buffalo was (I have plans to eat as much buffalo as possible while I'm out west, since I have yet to find any back east). The show was great. Local musicians The Wranglers entertained us with a rollicking blend of cowboy music and comedy. Nearly everyone (including me, horrid singing voice notwithstanding) joined in when they sang "The Battle of New Orleans," and I was beyond delighted to hear them perform "Tumbling Tumbleweeds," one of my favorite old cowboy songs (yes, I occasionally indulge in a bit of Roy Rogers or Gene Autry).
Tomorrow we're off to Deadwood. I can't wait to visit the same place where Wild Bill Hickock and Calamity Jane one strutted with their weapons proudly cocked. So far, I think South Dakota is one of the most under-rated states in the USA!
In pictures, Mount Rushmore always looks colossal, with the four presidential heads (George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt, and Abraham Lincoln, respectively) completely dominating the Black Hills landscape. In real life, Mount Rushmore is much smaller than I expected. It still was amazing to see, though, and I certainly commend the National Parks Service for the fine job they have done in keeping the place up so well, and keeping costs down (there is no admission cost, only a $10 parking fee good for multiple days). One thing that stood out particularly to me (actually, I have thought of this many times over the years), is the fact that Calvin Coolidge was President when they began the project, and agreed to federal funding for it, but he never tried to make his own face one of those carved into the mountain. If they were to carve Mount Rushmore today, you can bet the current president would certainly make sure his mug was up there (that's not an Obama dig - I believe any recent or future President would be that way). Coolidge had class!
Immediately after Mount Rushmore, we made the very appropriate decision to go to the Crazy Horse monument. It's not finished yet, but it still put Rushmore in the dust! All that is completed so far is Crazy Horse's head and part of his arm, and the rest will probably not be completed in my lifetime. It is a beautiful, momentous tribute to Native American history, and it's abut time, too. In addition to the work-in-progress monument being carved into a mountain, there is also a fantastic Indian museum there, which took up a considerable amount of our time. It was almost as impressive as the Smithsonian's Museum of the American Indian in Washington, DC. There were also numerous Native American artisans displaying and selling their beautiful work. Most impressive is the fact that Crazy Horse is being created entirely without federal help - all the funds have been raised through admissions, the gift shop, and donations.
In the evening, we stopped off at Fort Hays, which houses some of the sets used in the film "Dances with Wolves." It wasn't terribly impressive, but it made a nice diversion while we were waiting for dinner. For that important meal, we ate at the Flying T, which has a chuck-wagon dinner followed by a musical show. I couldn't believe how tender and juicy my roast buffalo was (I have plans to eat as much buffalo as possible while I'm out west, since I have yet to find any back east). The show was great. Local musicians The Wranglers entertained us with a rollicking blend of cowboy music and comedy. Nearly everyone (including me, horrid singing voice notwithstanding) joined in when they sang "The Battle of New Orleans," and I was beyond delighted to hear them perform "Tumbling Tumbleweeds," one of my favorite old cowboy songs (yes, I occasionally indulge in a bit of Roy Rogers or Gene Autry).
Tomorrow we're off to Deadwood. I can't wait to visit the same place where Wild Bill Hickock and Calamity Jane one strutted with their weapons proudly cocked. So far, I think South Dakota is one of the most under-rated states in the USA!
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Buffalo, Gold, and Bears, Oh My! (South Dakota, Day 1)
Technically this is day two in South Dakota, but since Mom and I got here in the evening yesterday, the only thing we did was go out to Perkins for dinner (their broccoli cheese soup gets major props from me!) and then go to bed. So, I'm considering today to be day one.
For those who are feeling a little lost, I am currently on my long-awaited "Wild West" vacation. Mom, Dad, and I are spending one week in South Dakota followed by one week in Montana. It all started last year when I mentioned to Dad over the phone (I was in Korea) my longtime dream of visiting Yellowstone, and suggested that he and Mom join me for a vacation out there in 2010. One week later, Dad called to inform me that he had booked a vacation out there...for July/August of 2009! He thought we should spend two weeks in Montana, but since I like to see as much as possible when I travel, and since I have always wanted to visit Deadwood and Mount Rushmore, I suggested one week in Montana and one week in South Dakota. It's been a little hectic for me to plan around this, since I am moving to VA the day after we get back to MI and then starting work the day after that. Still, I am really glad that we decided to do this.
Mom and I flew out here, and Dad opted to drive (saves the trouble of renting a vehicle). The flights for Mom and I were a little crazy - Kalamazoo to Detroit, Detroit to Minneapolis, then Minneapolis to Rapid City - with very short layovers between flights. With my knack for timing, I was on day three of a migraine when we left, and the pain and nausea got steadily worse as time went on. By the time we got here, I was one sick, over-medicated girl! Bed and my special chiropractic pillow (Dad brought it with him so I wouldn't have to lug it on planes) have seldom looked so good!
Today I felt much better, thank goodness! We got an early start, since South Dakota has a two-hour time difference from what we're used to. Dad had spotted an advertisement for a place called Bear Country USA, and it sounded good to all of us, so that was our first stop.
Bear Country is not cheap, but anyone who comes to South Dakota should be sure to go - it is well worth the money. We drove through a huge wildlife area, where we were able to get super close to elk, mountain goats, arctic wolves, bighorn sheep, pumas, buffalo, and more bears than I have ever seen. The animals were completely relaxed, and seemed to view the cars as toys put there for their amusement. One of my favorite sights was a white buffalo. I have heard of them, but until now I had never had the chance to see one. Following the drive, we parked and went to Babyland, wish is basically like a cute little zoo filled with almost painfully cute baby animals. For us, the best exhibit was the baby bears. They were roly-poly furry dumplings who played, wrestled, and hammed it up for the cameras. (I will be posting pictures after I get moved in to my apartment in Manassas and have unpacked my camera cord).
Following Bear Country, we went to the Thunder Mine, where we took a fascinating tour into the mine. I got some great photos, which I am looking forward to using in class. We followed the mine with a tasty lunch in Keystone, which included buffalo stew (delicious). After lunch, we toured the area for a while longer, and then drove back to Rapid City, where we went to the Geology Museum. The museum has an excellent collection of rocks, minerals, gemstones, and fossils. History museums are still by far my favorites, but I really do enjoy looking at different rocks and gemstones. The dinosaur skeletons were mind-bogglingly large. Every time that I see one in a museum, I find myself very grateful that they are extinct. I mean, can you imagine going swimming and then running into one of those ginormous creatures that resemble a water-dragon? Or taking the dog for a walk and getting chased by a T Rex?
For those who are feeling a little lost, I am currently on my long-awaited "Wild West" vacation. Mom, Dad, and I are spending one week in South Dakota followed by one week in Montana. It all started last year when I mentioned to Dad over the phone (I was in Korea) my longtime dream of visiting Yellowstone, and suggested that he and Mom join me for a vacation out there in 2010. One week later, Dad called to inform me that he had booked a vacation out there...for July/August of 2009! He thought we should spend two weeks in Montana, but since I like to see as much as possible when I travel, and since I have always wanted to visit Deadwood and Mount Rushmore, I suggested one week in Montana and one week in South Dakota. It's been a little hectic for me to plan around this, since I am moving to VA the day after we get back to MI and then starting work the day after that. Still, I am really glad that we decided to do this.
Mom and I flew out here, and Dad opted to drive (saves the trouble of renting a vehicle). The flights for Mom and I were a little crazy - Kalamazoo to Detroit, Detroit to Minneapolis, then Minneapolis to Rapid City - with very short layovers between flights. With my knack for timing, I was on day three of a migraine when we left, and the pain and nausea got steadily worse as time went on. By the time we got here, I was one sick, over-medicated girl! Bed and my special chiropractic pillow (Dad brought it with him so I wouldn't have to lug it on planes) have seldom looked so good!
Today I felt much better, thank goodness! We got an early start, since South Dakota has a two-hour time difference from what we're used to. Dad had spotted an advertisement for a place called Bear Country USA, and it sounded good to all of us, so that was our first stop.
Bear Country is not cheap, but anyone who comes to South Dakota should be sure to go - it is well worth the money. We drove through a huge wildlife area, where we were able to get super close to elk, mountain goats, arctic wolves, bighorn sheep, pumas, buffalo, and more bears than I have ever seen. The animals were completely relaxed, and seemed to view the cars as toys put there for their amusement. One of my favorite sights was a white buffalo. I have heard of them, but until now I had never had the chance to see one. Following the drive, we parked and went to Babyland, wish is basically like a cute little zoo filled with almost painfully cute baby animals. For us, the best exhibit was the baby bears. They were roly-poly furry dumplings who played, wrestled, and hammed it up for the cameras. (I will be posting pictures after I get moved in to my apartment in Manassas and have unpacked my camera cord).
Following Bear Country, we went to the Thunder Mine, where we took a fascinating tour into the mine. I got some great photos, which I am looking forward to using in class. We followed the mine with a tasty lunch in Keystone, which included buffalo stew (delicious). After lunch, we toured the area for a while longer, and then drove back to Rapid City, where we went to the Geology Museum. The museum has an excellent collection of rocks, minerals, gemstones, and fossils. History museums are still by far my favorites, but I really do enjoy looking at different rocks and gemstones. The dinosaur skeletons were mind-bogglingly large. Every time that I see one in a museum, I find myself very grateful that they are extinct. I mean, can you imagine going swimming and then running into one of those ginormous creatures that resemble a water-dragon? Or taking the dog for a walk and getting chased by a T Rex?
The New Apartment
Below is a floor plan and a video tour of my new apartment, still in its "before" stage. After I move in, I'll try to post photos to show what I've done with the place.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Hurray, I Don't Have to Sleep in My Classroom!
That's right, folks, Stephanie is officially freed from the short sale and is now in proud possession of a stunningly gorgeous apartment. It has a sunroom, a huge walk-in closet in the bedroom, a fantastic spacious kitchen, a HUGE bathroom (for an apartment), and wonderfully large windows. The apartment complex is gated, which really pleases me. Security is a very happy thing! There is also a swimming pool, fitness center, and media room for my enjoyment. Jasper will love it when he learns that we are close to several parks and a battlefield.
Not only did I get my new apartment today; I also found a good credit union (for my personal feelings on banks, feel free to read a few earlier posts). As I always manage to, I met a very interesting new person today, too - the manager at my new credit union. She's a very sweet gal from Uzbekistan, which makes her the second person I've met from there - interestingly, I so far like 100% of the Uzbeks that I have met! Either it's a country full of neat, lovely people, or I've just had the luck of running across the cream of the crop so far.
Dad and I finished off our busy day with driving out to Woodbridge to finish getting out of the short sale, and to make another sacred pilgrimage to that mecca of furniture stores, IKEA. I picked out the last remaining items of furniture that my apartment needs, and since I take possession tomorrow officially, I can leave it right here to be waiting for me when I get back on the 12th of August. I can hardly wait for the big move!
Not only did I get my new apartment today; I also found a good credit union (for my personal feelings on banks, feel free to read a few earlier posts). As I always manage to, I met a very interesting new person today, too - the manager at my new credit union. She's a very sweet gal from Uzbekistan, which makes her the second person I've met from there - interestingly, I so far like 100% of the Uzbeks that I have met! Either it's a country full of neat, lovely people, or I've just had the luck of running across the cream of the crop so far.
Dad and I finished off our busy day with driving out to Woodbridge to finish getting out of the short sale, and to make another sacred pilgrimage to that mecca of furniture stores, IKEA. I picked out the last remaining items of furniture that my apartment needs, and since I take possession tomorrow officially, I can leave it right here to be waiting for me when I get back on the 12th of August. I can hardly wait for the big move!
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Life with Father
My dad is a very interesting man. He gets upset if you buy a medium beverage instead of a large, since, according to him, large is always a better deal (even though I waste half of a large beverage). He used to drive up to twenty miles out of his way just to "save" one or two cents per gallon on gas. He loves to yell at the TV whenever he feels that a referee has made a bad call, or if he thinks a player needs his wise advice. He insists that corn raises his blood sugar too much (he's a diabetic), yet will eat two pieces of frosting-covered cake at a wedding. He's arthritic, yet lies on his belly on the floor to play with Mitzi, his seven-pound malti-tzu (who used to be mine, until I went to Korea). His love of peanuts nearly rivals his love for my mother (okay, I'm exaggerating a little on this one).
On a vacation or a short trip, my father is even more interesting. He refuses to buy a single ice cream for everyone on vacation, instead opting to buy multiple boxes of ice cream treats, then harasses everyone for not eating enough (the last time he did that, he got upset with Mom and me for not being able to each eat six ice cream bars). He positively delights in arguing with or ignoring whomever is acting as his navigator when he drives (if you tell him to go left, he turns right). His idea of relaxation is beating the sun out of bed, and he finds endless joy in trying to make everyone else relax in the exact same manner.
So, since my father is on this short trip to Virginia with me, you can probably imagine how "interesting" it has been so far. Dad recently bought a Tom Tom (GPS) to help him navigate. He's as excited as a small child about his new toy! My sister set it up for him, carefully selecting the voice that most closely resembled an annoyed, menopausal woman in order to help him pay attention to the Tom Tom's directions better. After today, I can assure all that he treats the Tom Tom almost like a human navigator. Yup, he still doesn't listen!
We had a brief detour in Maryland because Dad didn't believe the Tom Tom and I when we both assured him that he needed to turn right on a particular exit. When the two of us told Dad to go south at another exit, he tried to go north (picture me screaming "No Dad, south, SOUTH, SOUTH!!!"). At another point in the trip, he neglected to notice that there were two left turn lanes, almost turned directly into a minivan with my new car, and then spent the next twelve miles arguing with me, claiming that there was only one turn lane and that the other guy was 100% at fault.
Believe it or not, Dad and I actually had quite a nice drive down, despite his creative interpretations of simple instructions. I enjoy spending time with him, even when he doesn't listen. We spent most of the ten hour drive discussing country music performers (I started learning about them in an effort to bond with him years ago), John Wayne (ditto), aging, Mom, cars, and plans for the future. We had a good time, and I remembered why I miss him every time I move away. In spite of Dad's selective hearing, we made it safely to Manassas, where we are now comfortably ensconced in a hotel room. Dad is entranced by his softball game on the TV, and I'm content with Mackie (my MacBook).
Tomorrow, the hunt for my new apartment begins. On one hand, I'm excited beyond belief. On the other hand, I'm a little wistful, knowing that I'm going to miss seeing that eccentric, "interesting" father of mine every day.
On a vacation or a short trip, my father is even more interesting. He refuses to buy a single ice cream for everyone on vacation, instead opting to buy multiple boxes of ice cream treats, then harasses everyone for not eating enough (the last time he did that, he got upset with Mom and me for not being able to each eat six ice cream bars). He positively delights in arguing with or ignoring whomever is acting as his navigator when he drives (if you tell him to go left, he turns right). His idea of relaxation is beating the sun out of bed, and he finds endless joy in trying to make everyone else relax in the exact same manner.
So, since my father is on this short trip to Virginia with me, you can probably imagine how "interesting" it has been so far. Dad recently bought a Tom Tom (GPS) to help him navigate. He's as excited as a small child about his new toy! My sister set it up for him, carefully selecting the voice that most closely resembled an annoyed, menopausal woman in order to help him pay attention to the Tom Tom's directions better. After today, I can assure all that he treats the Tom Tom almost like a human navigator. Yup, he still doesn't listen!
We had a brief detour in Maryland because Dad didn't believe the Tom Tom and I when we both assured him that he needed to turn right on a particular exit. When the two of us told Dad to go south at another exit, he tried to go north (picture me screaming "No Dad, south, SOUTH, SOUTH!!!"). At another point in the trip, he neglected to notice that there were two left turn lanes, almost turned directly into a minivan with my new car, and then spent the next twelve miles arguing with me, claiming that there was only one turn lane and that the other guy was 100% at fault.
Believe it or not, Dad and I actually had quite a nice drive down, despite his creative interpretations of simple instructions. I enjoy spending time with him, even when he doesn't listen. We spent most of the ten hour drive discussing country music performers (I started learning about them in an effort to bond with him years ago), John Wayne (ditto), aging, Mom, cars, and plans for the future. We had a good time, and I remembered why I miss him every time I move away. In spite of Dad's selective hearing, we made it safely to Manassas, where we are now comfortably ensconced in a hotel room. Dad is entranced by his softball game on the TV, and I'm content with Mackie (my MacBook).
Tomorrow, the hunt for my new apartment begins. On one hand, I'm excited beyond belief. On the other hand, I'm a little wistful, knowing that I'm going to miss seeing that eccentric, "interesting" father of mine every day.
Monday, July 20, 2009
"On the Road Again..."
Today I am off to Virginia in search of a home. Doesn't that sound so sad and pathetic? It's like a film. You know, they really should make a movie of my life. At the moment, it is closely resembling a 1930's screwball comedy! Or perhaps a tragedy. I guess it's all a matter of perspective. I'm choosing to be amused, since laughter suits my temperament better than weeping and gnashing of teeth.
Dad offered to come with me, and since that means a reprieve from driving, I accepted his offer. We're leaving this morning, spending Tuesday and Wednesday looking at apartments, and then I'll make my decision on Wednesday after the last appointment, after which we'll shove off for Michigan again. I feel so much less stressed, even though I really shouldn't feel any less stressed. That's the difference made by once more being in control of a situation.
Dad offered to come with me, and since that means a reprieve from driving, I accepted his offer. We're leaving this morning, spending Tuesday and Wednesday looking at apartments, and then I'll make my decision on Wednesday after the last appointment, after which we'll shove off for Michigan again. I feel so much less stressed, even though I really shouldn't feel any less stressed. That's the difference made by once more being in control of a situation.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Stress Seems to Like Me Lately...
I've been up late plotting, and I think I have finally worked out a solution. As my readers are now aware, I have decided to back out of the sale, since the bank is apparently run by people with the work ethic of Paris Hilton. Which means, that I am now put in the unenviable (but definitely humorous-someday-in-the-future) situation of having to move in less than a month, with no place to live. I start work on the 13th of August, regardless of my housing situation.
Tonight I had an inspiration. Dad's solution was to stay in a hotel for my first eight days while looking for an apartment AND working full time. I just don't think that's a viable plan, especially since by the time I get out of work, most leasing offices will be closed or close to closing. My plan is a bit nutty, but doable. I have decided to spend all day Monday calling apartment complexes, which I am doing advance research on online. Then, after picking the best ones, I'll drive down to Virginia on Tuesday, and either stay with my friend in Maryland or with friend's of my friend who lives in Virginia. I'll spend about two or three days seeing all the apartments, then make my decision, apply, and pay the deposit. When I move down on the 12th (I'm on vacation out west for the two weeks prior to that), I'll move in to my apartment. I won't have furniture, since it will be coming down with Dad later, but that's fine. I have a very nice new sleeping bag and an air mattress (actually, two of them). I can camp out! It'll be another adventure that I can relate when I get together with friends.
The advantages to my plan are that I will not be out hundreds of dollars for a hotel, I will be able to go on vacation without housing stress hanging over my head, and I can be certain of finding a place to move into by the correct date. If I wait, I may find myself stuck in a hotel for as long as a month! Yuck!
I've said it before, but really, it just begs to be said once more: WHY DO THESE THINGS ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME?!
Tonight I had an inspiration. Dad's solution was to stay in a hotel for my first eight days while looking for an apartment AND working full time. I just don't think that's a viable plan, especially since by the time I get out of work, most leasing offices will be closed or close to closing. My plan is a bit nutty, but doable. I have decided to spend all day Monday calling apartment complexes, which I am doing advance research on online. Then, after picking the best ones, I'll drive down to Virginia on Tuesday, and either stay with my friend in Maryland or with friend's of my friend who lives in Virginia. I'll spend about two or three days seeing all the apartments, then make my decision, apply, and pay the deposit. When I move down on the 12th (I'm on vacation out west for the two weeks prior to that), I'll move in to my apartment. I won't have furniture, since it will be coming down with Dad later, but that's fine. I have a very nice new sleeping bag and an air mattress (actually, two of them). I can camp out! It'll be another adventure that I can relate when I get together with friends.
The advantages to my plan are that I will not be out hundreds of dollars for a hotel, I will be able to go on vacation without housing stress hanging over my head, and I can be certain of finding a place to move into by the correct date. If I wait, I may find myself stuck in a hotel for as long as a month! Yuck!
I've said it before, but really, it just begs to be said once more: WHY DO THESE THINGS ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME?!
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Living Arrangement Frustration
I decided last night that if I do not have an answer from the bank this coming week, I will withdraw my offer. The bank has behaved in a manner that I find ridiculous, unethical, and just plain rotten. It is no longer worth the battle to become a homeowner. I refuse to spend the next month or more living out of a hotel (which I cannot afford) while clinging to the desperate hope that someday the almighty bank will condescend to give me a yes or a no.
So, instead of moving into a new house before starting work, and having the fun of fixing it up to my specifications, I am going to spend my first week of work in a hotel, desperately hunting down an apartment. No more hope of equity, no financial security for my future. Thank you, bank, for screwing up my dream.
Don't get my wrong - apartments aren't horrendous. I've lived in a few now, and I really don't have a laundry list of complaints. It could be a lot worse. At least this way I don't have to keep hanging on waiting to hear yes or no. I just hope this bank remembers the way they've treated people like me once they bury themselves deeply in unnecessary debt and crash hopelessly underneath it all, with little hope of resurrection. What goes around comes around...it just takes a while sometimes.
So, instead of moving into a new house before starting work, and having the fun of fixing it up to my specifications, I am going to spend my first week of work in a hotel, desperately hunting down an apartment. No more hope of equity, no financial security for my future. Thank you, bank, for screwing up my dream.
Don't get my wrong - apartments aren't horrendous. I've lived in a few now, and I really don't have a laundry list of complaints. It could be a lot worse. At least this way I don't have to keep hanging on waiting to hear yes or no. I just hope this bank remembers the way they've treated people like me once they bury themselves deeply in unnecessary debt and crash hopelessly underneath it all, with little hope of resurrection. What goes around comes around...it just takes a while sometimes.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Surrounded by Inept Idiots
I really marvel at how it took the banks until now to screw things up again. After all, they are clearly being run by people with the intellectual capacity of amoebas. Why am I so peeved at banks at the moment?
1. I closed an account at Bank of America a few months before leaving for Korea. After they mailed my money to the wrong address, I had to call again to cancel that check, give them my information (which they discovered that they already had) again, and reiterate that I wanted the account permanently closed. When I got back from Korea, I learned that they left the account open with fourteen cents in it and wanted to charge me over a year's worth of maintenance fees and overdraft charges. Needless to say, I will never bank with them again.
2. I put in an offer on a house in Virginia three months ago, and still the bank hasn't gotten around to accepting or rejecting the offer. If they foreclose on the current owners, the bank will spend $60,000, and will not be able to sell for as much as I'm willing to pay. They're hurting themselves, but they apparently have money to burn.
3. I went to my current bank, National City, a month ago to change my won to American dollars. They cheerfully offered me an exchange rate that would have cheated me out of over $1,000. The happy teller also informed me that they would need to charge a fee for this service. I opted to hold onto my won a little longer.
4. I opened an account at Comerica just to be able to change over my won. This was the second week of June. I was told that the money would post to my account in seven to fourteen business days. I checked online again today and called the bank. Guess what - it still hasn't posted. Oh, and since they haven't posted my money, they only have to wait another week and they can start charging me maintenance fees (which is probably their nefarious plot). There's another bank I won't be using again.
I'd like to go spit on Alexander Hamilton's grave right now!
1. I closed an account at Bank of America a few months before leaving for Korea. After they mailed my money to the wrong address, I had to call again to cancel that check, give them my information (which they discovered that they already had) again, and reiterate that I wanted the account permanently closed. When I got back from Korea, I learned that they left the account open with fourteen cents in it and wanted to charge me over a year's worth of maintenance fees and overdraft charges. Needless to say, I will never bank with them again.
2. I put in an offer on a house in Virginia three months ago, and still the bank hasn't gotten around to accepting or rejecting the offer. If they foreclose on the current owners, the bank will spend $60,000, and will not be able to sell for as much as I'm willing to pay. They're hurting themselves, but they apparently have money to burn.
3. I went to my current bank, National City, a month ago to change my won to American dollars. They cheerfully offered me an exchange rate that would have cheated me out of over $1,000. The happy teller also informed me that they would need to charge a fee for this service. I opted to hold onto my won a little longer.
4. I opened an account at Comerica just to be able to change over my won. This was the second week of June. I was told that the money would post to my account in seven to fourteen business days. I checked online again today and called the bank. Guess what - it still hasn't posted. Oh, and since they haven't posted my money, they only have to wait another week and they can start charging me maintenance fees (which is probably their nefarious plot). There's another bank I won't be using again.
I'd like to go spit on Alexander Hamilton's grave right now!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
The Doggie Adventures (part 1)
The dogs (my Jasper, and my parents' two dogs Mitzi and Abby) have been having an adventure-filled summer so far. I promise to post pictures and videos of them as soon as I find the USB cord for my camera (everything seems to get lost whenever I pack to move). Here's just a few of the fun things the doggies have been up to:
1. A few weeks ago, I decided that my car was in dire need of a bath (half of it looked like a graveyard for insects, and the other half resembled a seagull relief station). Since Jasper loves water, I let him out to "help" me. He thought this was terrific! For about half an hour, Jasper amused himself by chasing and "attacking" the water as it came out of the hose. He also managed to capture and carry away a bucket (with a little bit of water in it). That boy has some strong jaws!
2. Last week, Mom saw a vole digging near the deck, so I got the hose and washed him out of his little hidey-hole. Mom suggested letting the dogs out to see what they would do to the vole (he was still alive, albeit very wet and tired). Mitzi, Abby, and Jasper soon proved to be excellent "huntin' dawgs." They chased the vole around the yard, caught him, barked at him, and finally decided to play tug-o-war with him. I'm guessing the vole probably died of a massive stroke!
3. After a sleepless night the other night, I gave up on resting and got up early. I thought the dogs might enjoy getting up early as well, so I took them down to the basement with me (to keep them from waking up my father). In an effort to distract the dogs from investigating some of my teaching supplies, I gave them each a marshmallow to play with. Abby decided that her marshmallow was Public Enemy #1, and started growling ferociously at it and batting it around the room with her paws. Jasper investigated his carefully, decided it was edible, and promptly ate it in a single gulp. Mitzi also reached the conclusion that marshmallows are edible, but had a little trouble in consuming hers. Somehow she got it stuck to the side of her face, and started running in circles trying to "catch" it!
4. Dad bought a large ball for Jasper, after I caught him playing with my volleyball the other day. Jasper promptly taught himself how to play soccer! He pushes the ball all over the yard while running and barking merrily. It's quite a sight! I don't think I've ever known a shih tzu to be quite as athletic as my Jasper is. His other recent favorite game is frisbee.
5. While I had the dogs out earlier today, Mitzi tracked down a wounded baby rabbit (I believe it's the one that my brother-in-law shot with a BB gun yesterday). Before I could stop her, she shook the life out of it, and then had a rambunctious round of bunny-tug-o-war with Abby. Furry woodland creatures are no longer safe at this house!
1. A few weeks ago, I decided that my car was in dire need of a bath (half of it looked like a graveyard for insects, and the other half resembled a seagull relief station). Since Jasper loves water, I let him out to "help" me. He thought this was terrific! For about half an hour, Jasper amused himself by chasing and "attacking" the water as it came out of the hose. He also managed to capture and carry away a bucket (with a little bit of water in it). That boy has some strong jaws!
2. Last week, Mom saw a vole digging near the deck, so I got the hose and washed him out of his little hidey-hole. Mom suggested letting the dogs out to see what they would do to the vole (he was still alive, albeit very wet and tired). Mitzi, Abby, and Jasper soon proved to be excellent "huntin' dawgs." They chased the vole around the yard, caught him, barked at him, and finally decided to play tug-o-war with him. I'm guessing the vole probably died of a massive stroke!
3. After a sleepless night the other night, I gave up on resting and got up early. I thought the dogs might enjoy getting up early as well, so I took them down to the basement with me (to keep them from waking up my father). In an effort to distract the dogs from investigating some of my teaching supplies, I gave them each a marshmallow to play with. Abby decided that her marshmallow was Public Enemy #1, and started growling ferociously at it and batting it around the room with her paws. Jasper investigated his carefully, decided it was edible, and promptly ate it in a single gulp. Mitzi also reached the conclusion that marshmallows are edible, but had a little trouble in consuming hers. Somehow she got it stuck to the side of her face, and started running in circles trying to "catch" it!
4. Dad bought a large ball for Jasper, after I caught him playing with my volleyball the other day. Jasper promptly taught himself how to play soccer! He pushes the ball all over the yard while running and barking merrily. It's quite a sight! I don't think I've ever known a shih tzu to be quite as athletic as my Jasper is. His other recent favorite game is frisbee.
5. While I had the dogs out earlier today, Mitzi tracked down a wounded baby rabbit (I believe it's the one that my brother-in-law shot with a BB gun yesterday). Before I could stop her, she shook the life out of it, and then had a rambunctious round of bunny-tug-o-war with Abby. Furry woodland creatures are no longer safe at this house!
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
A Spelling Lesson
The spelling and grammar here on the web is deplorable, making me shudder so much that I'm probably about to develop a muscle condition. Doesn't anyone take English in school anymore? Have English teachers given up on teaching? Or do people just glory in looking stupid? Here are a few of my biggest pet peeves:
"ur" - Apparently, this cringe-worthy invention is supposed to be "your." If pronounced phonetically, "ur" would be pronounced rather like a growl. Since "your" is such an easy word to spell, I am unable to comprehend why anyone would deliberately spell it in this new fashion. Is it just a pitiful attempt to join the mindless masses of illiterates that pollute our nation? Certain new "internet generation words" serve the purpose of saving time in a typed conversation (such as "lol" instead of "laughing out loud"). Does shaving off the first two letters of the word "your" save a considerable amount of time? I guess it might, if your typing speed is two wpm ("words per minute" - see, another abbreviation that actually makes sense and saves time)!
"definately" - This is how most of America likes to spell the word "definitely." Not only is it wrong, but once again, if you pronounce this misspelled word the way it is spelled, you have something different from the intended word. "Definitely," when properly spelled, has the word "finite" in it. "Finite" means "having bounds or limits" - remarkably similar to the definition of "definitely."
"rediculous" and "rediculously" - These are supposed to be "ridiculous" and "ridiculously." Once again, the misspelling leads to the mispronunciation of the words. "Ridiculous" is an adjective which comes from the verb "ridicule." When in doubt as to how to spell something, try to think of another form of the word and see if that helps (i.e. If the word you want to spell is an adjective, see if it has a verb form that you know how to spell).
"random" - This word is spelled perfectly, but the overuse of it is starting to become reminiscent of that old favorite, "like," which filled in half the words of most teenage girls' conversations during the 1990s (and, sadly, even since then). Everything today is "random." I have seen so many "random" photo albums posted on Facebook that I am starting to randomly foam at my random mouth every time I randomly see one. Here, for the benefit of all, are some other words you might like to try: designless, aimless, slapdash, purposeless, desultory, haphazard, chance, indiscriminate. More often than not, when people use "random," they really mean "miscellaneous." In that case, why not try these words: assorted, diverse, heterogenous, jumbled, sundry. Stop sounding exactly like everyone else and be your own person! Enrich your vocabulary and rise above the huddled masses of blubbering imbeciles!
"ur" - Apparently, this cringe-worthy invention is supposed to be "your." If pronounced phonetically, "ur" would be pronounced rather like a growl. Since "your" is such an easy word to spell, I am unable to comprehend why anyone would deliberately spell it in this new fashion. Is it just a pitiful attempt to join the mindless masses of illiterates that pollute our nation? Certain new "internet generation words" serve the purpose of saving time in a typed conversation (such as "lol" instead of "laughing out loud"). Does shaving off the first two letters of the word "your" save a considerable amount of time? I guess it might, if your typing speed is two wpm ("words per minute" - see, another abbreviation that actually makes sense and saves time)!
"definately" - This is how most of America likes to spell the word "definitely." Not only is it wrong, but once again, if you pronounce this misspelled word the way it is spelled, you have something different from the intended word. "Definitely," when properly spelled, has the word "finite" in it. "Finite" means "having bounds or limits" - remarkably similar to the definition of "definitely."
"rediculous" and "rediculously" - These are supposed to be "ridiculous" and "ridiculously." Once again, the misspelling leads to the mispronunciation of the words. "Ridiculous" is an adjective which comes from the verb "ridicule." When in doubt as to how to spell something, try to think of another form of the word and see if that helps (i.e. If the word you want to spell is an adjective, see if it has a verb form that you know how to spell).
"random" - This word is spelled perfectly, but the overuse of it is starting to become reminiscent of that old favorite, "like," which filled in half the words of most teenage girls' conversations during the 1990s (and, sadly, even since then). Everything today is "random." I have seen so many "random" photo albums posted on Facebook that I am starting to randomly foam at my random mouth every time I randomly see one. Here, for the benefit of all, are some other words you might like to try: designless, aimless, slapdash, purposeless, desultory, haphazard, chance, indiscriminate. More often than not, when people use "random," they really mean "miscellaneous." In that case, why not try these words: assorted, diverse, heterogenous, jumbled, sundry. Stop sounding exactly like everyone else and be your own person! Enrich your vocabulary and rise above the huddled masses of blubbering imbeciles!
Saturday, June 13, 2009
This Is the Last Time I Move!!
I say this every time that I move, but I mean it more this time: "This is the last time that I am ever moving!"
First of all, I think that my books must enjoy very active sex-lives, since they are obviously reproducing at an alarming rate. I keep finding titles that I had no idea existed, much less belonged in my library. Where did all these volumes come from? I've found books on subjects ranging from shipping history, to men's psychology (an attempt on my part to save a doomed relationship some time ago), to Victorian etiquette, to nutrition. There are British murder mysteries from the thirties, Mark Twain first editions, Bible commentaries, a bookcase-worth of autobiographies from classic film stars, and several poetry anthologies. If I ever want a new deck on the townhouse, I could build it out of my books!
My clothes hangers have the opposite problem of the books - apparently there is a Clothes Hanger Mafia in the closet that keeps killing off weaklings, putting them in cement bathing suits, and dropping them into Lake Michigan while I sleep at night. I think the Clothes Hanger Mafia might also be responsible for the recent CD case shortage. And don't get me started on the washer's voracious appetite for half of each pair of socks! Doesn't that beast ever get full?
The moving boxes are rapidly filling, and slowly taking over my bedroom (technically the guest room) and my parents' storeroom. I guess you never really know how much stuff you have until you try to shove it all into boxes and move it several hundred miles away. I think the kitchen alone has about fifteen boxes now! Maybe I should just let the stuff have the townhouse, and find a small apartment for me. I can drive out and visit my belongings on weekends, and occasionally let some of it come to my place for a sleepover.
First of all, I think that my books must enjoy very active sex-lives, since they are obviously reproducing at an alarming rate. I keep finding titles that I had no idea existed, much less belonged in my library. Where did all these volumes come from? I've found books on subjects ranging from shipping history, to men's psychology (an attempt on my part to save a doomed relationship some time ago), to Victorian etiquette, to nutrition. There are British murder mysteries from the thirties, Mark Twain first editions, Bible commentaries, a bookcase-worth of autobiographies from classic film stars, and several poetry anthologies. If I ever want a new deck on the townhouse, I could build it out of my books!
My clothes hangers have the opposite problem of the books - apparently there is a Clothes Hanger Mafia in the closet that keeps killing off weaklings, putting them in cement bathing suits, and dropping them into Lake Michigan while I sleep at night. I think the Clothes Hanger Mafia might also be responsible for the recent CD case shortage. And don't get me started on the washer's voracious appetite for half of each pair of socks! Doesn't that beast ever get full?
The moving boxes are rapidly filling, and slowly taking over my bedroom (technically the guest room) and my parents' storeroom. I guess you never really know how much stuff you have until you try to shove it all into boxes and move it several hundred miles away. I think the kitchen alone has about fifteen boxes now! Maybe I should just let the stuff have the townhouse, and find a small apartment for me. I can drive out and visit my belongings on weekends, and occasionally let some of it come to my place for a sleepover.
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