Just a little bit vindictive ...

I've been quite polite through this entire thing. My emails have been professional, I've given the appropriate amount of notice, and have given more patience than what should be required of me. I have tried, tried, tried and gotten very little back.

So no, I really don't feel bad that I twisted every light bulb in the place a quarter turn to the left. Just enough so they won't connect. Nope, in fact, I don't feel even the smallest bit of bad for you when you find that the only light in the apartment "doesn't work."

Good riddance. That's all I have left to say.

Sacrifices for Happiness

Since I can't very well allow Twixter One to post a blog and not have one to follow, here I am. Many, many things have changed since my last entry.

Here's the mini run down:
-Husband and I may or may not be moving to Florida. We may be looking into California. (Do not die of a heart attack Twixter One. You need to be on gchat nao so I can update you.)
-I quit the very well paying job I hate to take 2 lesser paid jobs that make me much happier
- I started filling out all the paperwork to go back to school this next year and graduate. I seriously cannot wait.
-Husband finished his second novel of his life and I couldn't be prouder.

Now, some explanation. I'll start with just explaining this last weekend since it pretty much changed our lives.

This last weekend, one of our best friend's from college (whom we shall call Gavin) graduated. When he invited us to his graduation party, we knew that no matter what happened, we would be there.

But first, I have been applying like a mad women (even while at work) to other places so I could quit my call center job. I knew I needed to have 2 jobs to cover what I was making there but needed to get out of that place so bad it was making me depressed. So I applied like crazy and Thursday night I got a call. I had interviewed at Old Navy and they wanted to hire me. I had the potential of 40 hours as long as I was available. And boy was I available. During the last week I had also been in talks with a manager from Starbucks (thanks to the Husband's rocking connections, I got to skip the whole interview process and just talk straight to a manager who needed a barista). She had sounded pretty sure she was going to hire me. So as soon as Old Navy offered me the job, I got in my car, drove to my call center and quit on the spot.

This was a very rash move for me. I've never just up and quit a job in my life. Ironically they wouldn't have let me put in notice anyway. They really didn't care. Proving even more how much I hated that job. So I snuck out like a thief in the night with all the items from my desk and got ready to go to California. My shoulders felt like a giant weight was lifted off them and I was practically dancing as I shopped for random stuff we'd need for the trip.

On the way down, I was confessing to husband that I was kind of depressed to be going to our old school and town because to me, the drive felt like I was going home, not going to visit. To be honest, I've felt ever since we moved that California was my home. As excited as I was for adventure and moving to Florida, I was scared it would be just like Las Vegas without family. Just Husband and I in an apartment with only 1 friend an hour away. I had suppressed that thought for a long time.

But California. Husband and I arrived looking snazzy and dressed up for graduation. It was really fun to see all the people we had missed. All the while I was slightly shriveling inside.

This was supposed to be me. I was supposed to be graduating right now.

I only have 6 classes left. But due to the move and Husband and I's financial situation and the lack of married housing on campus, we were forced to move straight to Nevada without a glance back. I sat there at graduation, proud of all my friends who were wearing their gowns and walking up the stage but still reminded I should be done. And wanted to be done. Now.

After graduation we had an amazing day. Gavin's graduation party was exactly what I want mine to be. A small group of family and closest friends celebrating a great milestone with beer and pizza. It was perfect. Afterwards, we went to the beach and just played in the sand. Gavin and his cousin and his brother from Maine actually went swimming like crazy people. But I guess if we swim in the ocean in Maine, Newport Beach isn't so bad. Afterward we ate dinner, hung out at the bathwater warm pool.

Husband and I had a dawning realization.

We miss people.

We're extremely social and as of right now, we sit in our apartment and watch TV. Every once in a while we have people to hang out with. But not like in California. We hung out with Gavin nearly every single day for 2 years. Not to mention one of my best friends in the world and maid of honor (whom we shall call Riley) was there everyday too. I just need that back again.

So needless to say, Husband and I are looking into all our options, which include moving back to California this upcoming fall or spring. We've got a lot to figure out, but I can't wait to decide.

Miss you all.

Twixter Two

Officially Californian

I have a confession to make.

Although I’ve been living in LA for the last 11 months, I’ve been sneaking around The Valley still driving on my Nevada plates and wielding my Nevada drivers license.

The state of California gives you exactly 10 days from the point of entry into California to switch your registration and residency. It’s a very clear cut law. However, when you’ve been living in the state for the last 4-years under the guise of out of state college student, pin pointing your date of entry gets a little tricky.

At least thats what I argued as I shlepped my stuff up to LA from Orange County and was far too overwhelmed to get everything switched over. Just let me get settled, find an official residence (rather than couch crashing) and then I would make it “Official.”

Well, it didn’t take too long for me to realize that registering my new-used car in California was going to cost me exceedingly more than to register in Nevada. Damn state taxes. So I made the road trip (twice) out to NV, and once again became an official Nevada resident. from California.

This back and forth has continued on and off for the last couple of months, constantly finding another excuse for why now wasn’t the time to switch. Of the 16 cars in my apartment’s underground garage, over half of them have out of state plates - I was in good company.

Well, with taxes looming towards me I realized it was finally time to make it official when daunted with the task of figuring out which residency to declare on the forms. So off I went: 20 minutes later (AAA for car registration) and 2 hours later (DMV for my drivers license) I am proud to announce - I am Officially a California resident.

Being a California resident comes with it’s down sides. My car is so much more difficult to find now in the parking lot when my Nevada plates don’t stick out like a sore thumb. and, After having a decent looking drivers license picture in Nevada, my California license just screams bad hair day. and of course, there’s those three hated little words: State Income Tax.

But all in all, it’s refreshing to finally have the final check mark placed in my “Moving to California” to do list. I no longer have to glance nervously as a cop car pulls behind me as I pull out of my complex (“no really officer, I’m just here as a college student / visiting my sister / where am I again?”) Bartenders no longer look at me strangely as they inspect my ID with vigor, because a Nevada ID means I must be under age.

So like it or not, Mum & Dad, looks like I’m in California to stay - at least for a little while. I think I’ll like it here. Although, I will say, it is disappointing that I can no longer get away with swerving down streets like an idiot, only to pass it off as “Whatever, they probably just think I’m a tourist.”

Part Time vs Full Time

Ah the glorious full time job.

Now many covet this position, especially in this economy. I consider myself to be one of the lucky few who have a full time job right now. Even Husband only has 1.5 part time jobs. (The .5 is an on call position that he's not fully hired into yet. Long story). But needless to say, I'm fully employed 40 hours a week plus benefits.

Now you'd think this $12 an hour 40 hour a week job would allow me to pay off all my bills in a snap right? WRONG!

I just keep finding myself stuck in a rut paying off my stupidity in college. I think it should be illegal to have a credit card in college. Ok, I guess I don't. I survived my unemployed times (thus putting myself in my current situation) with credit cards. It was so exciting, opening it up, getting cool designs, acting like it was free money, TOTALLY planning on paying it off right away.

Riiiiiiiight.

I didn't. I paid minimum and more minimum constantly. Everytime I would get some extra income, "something would come up" that I had to pay for instead. Probably the Chipotle Tuesdays or something. As they say, hindsight is 20/20. Oh I see clearly now. Crystal.

Now Husband and I are budgeting out 700 every paycheck, again I say, every paycheck so we can move to Florida in 5 months. It seems unreasonable, but working full time actually allows this. (Having 2 incomes really helps as well). Which is the WEIRDEST feeling. I was used to making $350 every two weeks. Now my paychecks are over $800. I have never known what making over $1000 a month feels like. It's pret-ty nice.

So now, that I can see the amazing power of budgeting, it makes me want all of my past debt gone this instant. I want to move to Florida completely debt free. This is really not possible. There are pertinent costs that keep popping up: oil change for my car, registration for my car, medicine here, work uniforms there, that just keep adding up.

I know that it takes patience and dedication to pay off debt.

I'm just really freaking impatient.

Playing the Tourist

This weekend The Boy and I headed up to Mt. Baldy to spend a much needed afternoon playing in the snow. Since I’m a horrible skier we just embraced our 5-year-old tendencies - we made snow men and went sledding. Just two weekends before, The Boy and I were in Santa Monica all of Saturday - feeling the sea breeze on our faces and digging our toes into the sand.

You have to love Southern California. You can spend one weekend sprawled on the beach in T-Shirts and 70 degree weather, and the next weekend bundled up in gloves and beanies throwing snow balls.

There are endless possibilities to do and see in Los Angeles, and somehow I missed the mark. I went to school just an hour South of here, yet I never really ventured into the city. Every so often I’d randomly find myself venturing down a street in LA with little clue where I was at, but I was so lost I’d never try to return to it.

When I moved up here permanently, I told myself I was going to take advantage of my newfound freedom. No more homework and no more papers, my “off” time would become my time, and I planned to take advantage of it. Little did I know that when I finally was “off” I’d be too exhausted to think about going out and exploring the city. Weekends were strictly for laundry and grocery shopping.

When January rolled around I realized I’d spent 6-months living in a city that I hardly knew anything about. So one of three resolutions were birthed: I was going to become a tourist.

The plan is to do one thing every week as a tourist. I live a 10-minute drive away from the Hollywood sign, but until January 9th I had never actually taken the classic tourist shot in front of it. Now I have.

Of course, I have an advantage to acting like a tourist - I’m a local. Any guide book will tell you that you can see the Hollywood sign from the Griffith Observatory. But only locals know that if you drive up Lake Hollywood you’re eventually standing right under it. (Noted: You do have to ignore the sign at Lake Hollywood & Barham - “No Access to Hollywood Sign.” - Ha! Whatever).

I think I’m grateful that I waited ‘til I felt more like a local to be a tourist - as long as I can get over being ridiculed by other locals for my cheesy facebook pics. And once the tourist stuff starts to get old (I’m already over visiting Hollywood Blvd - right now it’s just annoying that it’s the Fresh n Easy closest to me) I have another trick up my sleeve.

When I lived in London I fell in love with The City Walk cards, and for my last birthday The Boy got me City Walk: Los Angeles . There’s 50 cards that take you through walks all across the city - stopping you at sometimes unnoticeable but always interesting landmarks. It’s a nice transition from tourist to local - even for those of us that are just a little bit of both.

Home - Sweet - Home

It's been two weeks since I've moved into my new apartment, and I am absolutely delighted with the place. It's the luxury that I could never afford in college, including having my own room AND bathroom.

Somewhere around my junior year I had resigned to the fact that I would never have my own room again. I'd move straight from the cramped student dorms, to a cramped post-college apartment, to eventually getting married. All of which required sharing a room and shutter a closet with an unsuspecting stranger. After spending 17-years of my life having my own room, I mourned the loss of my privacy and uninterrupted closet space.

So, even though I may be spoiling myself a bit too much, I was delighted when I realized I could not only have my OWN room, but also my OWN bathroom at the new place. Now I can scatter makeup and brushes and cotton balls from one end to the other without my roommate ever uttering a sound. (Not that my current roommate, "the Actress" would even care).

Yet, as wonderful as it is to have my own place, I came to a quick realization just how much everything COSTS after the first weekend of settling in ended. Little things I took for granted - like the floor lamp that went home with my roommate, or my university-provided standard college desk, suddenly became "luxury items" after realizing that almost half my "impressive salary" went straight to my rent check.

I've always been a good manager of money, and paid for all of my college bills off of my minuscule part-time student worker paycheck. But I always had the benefit of relying on my student loans to give me one lump sum to pay off my subsidized University housing each semester. Now that I can't put rent on my already overburdened credit card, the necessity of a desk or lighting goes WAY down on the priority list.

Needless to say, I was delighted to find a gem of a desk on Craigslist for only $10! I'd looked at the desk not two weeks before at Ikea, but for a whopping $110 +tax, there was NO WAY I'd be getting it. But with a couple of screws, a little bit of nail glue, and homemade dinner as a bribe, my boyfriend put together my very first desk of my own. WoooHoo!

Now the apartment is almost settled, minus the fact that we have zero decorations and are slipping back into the 1800s and surviving on candlelight. (hey, it cuts the energy bill too - right?) It feels good to finally have a place to call "home" after over 4 years of a slightly flexible definition of "home." Somehow, I'm starting to feel like a grown up - especially with my rent check due in less than 2 weeks.