Moving (again)

Soooo, in about 4 weeks I should be in a new apartment. I don't know exactly where or how, but that is the ultimate plan. I am really going to miss the Jefferson Square place, but I have high hopes for my next single abode. I will have to replace a few pieces of furniture that I got rid of to accomodate his stuff but otherwise I've got pretty much everything I need for a cozy, classy one-bedroom apartment.

Since I can't really afford movers this time around, I have thankfully had a few people volunteer to help me move and can most likely borrow a truck from work if need be. It may not go as smoothly as the last go-round but I'm looking at this whole situation as a bit of an adventure and am trying to roll with the punches.

Yeah, sure, it's occasionally really f*cking depressing but mostly I am getting out and about as much as I can to distract myself. This weekend Nat and I helped Cec move into her new place in the fancy-pants part of the Hill and I finally got to meet his kiddo Wyatt - three year olds are immensely entertaining for short periods of time. After a nap I dragged myself over to Dubs to witness the glittery spectacle that is she and her crew getting ready to go out dancing at the gay club - it's pretty amazing the costumes they come up with. I called it an early night but cajoled Cec into a "Welcome to the Neighborhood" drink on Sunday just to get out of the house. At this point, I'll clearly use pretty much any excuse not to be sitting at home by myself...So far, it's pretty much working.

I love Seattle.

Every time I drive through the city I am truly struck by its beauty; on sunny days Seattle just makes you feel good to be alive.

I am going to briefly touch on recent events and then continue this blog in its original vein and speak about the positive things that are upcoming for me.

Ma and I had to say goodbye to our 18 year old cat B.C. on Saturday. His liver was failing and quality of life was decreasing at an increasing pace. He went quietly after lots and lots of petting.

Bear is leaving. Had I been honest with myself, I would have seen this coming long ago and I had at least a few friends who did. I'm okay, but in the next six weeks I have to find a new place to live! Having become quite fond of the Junction, I am willing to give up a few amenities to be able to remain in the area. Once again, I'll be packing every night after work.

My amazing friends have rallied around me and I am looking forward to a bright future, happily on my own again. I've had a lot of new design ideas and having free reign over the space for paint and art and such will be super refreshing. Having more time for girlfriends is also a huge bonus and I have no doubt there will be a lot more social activity for this domestic goddess. The dust should settle in a few weeks and I can get back to my fabulous life as I once knew it!

***I will say that I highly doubt I will be cohabitating with a beau pre-putting-a-ring-on-it ever again and even after that it may be somewhat difficult to convince me.

I wish I knew more Turkish.

More than once this weekend, mutual friends of ours exhibited surprise when I assured them that I want to continue to learn Turkish. Obviously, the classes I took weren't as helpful as I had hoped and I am nowhere near fluent (though I didn't really expect such amazing results from a 6 week class) but jeez folks - I'm not done.

My boyfriend's first language is Turkish. That is the language he is most comfortable using and the one he communicates best with. By choosing to not pursue a deeper comprehension of Turkish I would essentially be saying "I don't care about being able to communicate effectively with you, ever." At the very least, I feel I should know as much Turkish as he does English - it's only fair.

Something else to consider: healthy, happy relationships are based on the ability to communicate well with your partner. It's difficult enough when we have conflicts, but it is compounded by the fact that we think and speak in different languages.

Now, I just need Seattle to get with the program - how about hooking a girl up with more matriculation options, eh?

*hangs head in shame*

Oh for the love of gawd - I am an awful blogger.

Bear's been here for almost a month now, this week we got our sweet-ass couch and dining set and soon we can show off the new digs with a housewarming party.

Days before he came home, my fantastic orange kitty Wilson got very sick and had to be put to sleep. Lord, that was rough. He was not even 4 years old and in great health the day before - I didn't see it coming at all.

So, we've all been adjusting to a new cat, Bear is settling in to his new home and I am learning how to live with a dude.

It's been more than interesting but honestly, I would change very little about these last few months of my life (except for the lack of blogging part, eh?)

Wilson and Bread

First of all, I want to sincerely thank every one of you who prayed for us and shared our pain on Facebook. It is always tragic to lose a part of your family, furry or not, suddenly or slowly. We were blind-sided and Serkan had no option but to offer as much support as he could while being thousands of miles away. Unfortunately this meant he was not able to have his own goodbyes with Wilson, and they loved each other so so much.

Truly, all of your kind words have touched my heart. I know many of you have been through the same thing or have a pet that you love so much you don't want to imagine ever being in the same position. As they say, "this ain't my first rodeo" and in my life I have said goodbye to many kitties, never on really pleasant terms. Wilson is incredibly special to me and I will never forget all of the things I loved; the last 4 days of his life are far outweighed by the 2+ great years I got to spend with him. He taught me things.

In the days after he passed, after separate heart-to-heart chats with Bear and the Madre in which I honestly expressed my desire to adopt another cat (I can't say it more eloquently):

"Unlike some people who have experienced the loss of an animal, I did not
believe, even for a moment, that I would never get another. I did know full well
that there were just too many animals out there in need of homesfor me to take
what I have always regarded as the self-indulgent road of saying the heartbreak
of the loss of an animal was too much ever to want to go through with it again.

To me, such an admission brought up the far more powerful admission that
all the wonderful times you had with your animal were not worth the unhappiness
at the end."

- Cleveland Amory

they both unknowingly presented me with the same, kinda freakin' brilliant, idea.

We'll have to back-track a little.

About a year and a half ago, a friend's bartender roommate was trying to adopt out two young adult Maine Coon mix brothers - he had agreed to house them for a friend whose new girlfriend had allergies or hated the cats or maybe she was just slightly crazy, we never really figured it out but she never attempted to regain ownership of the kitties even after insisting they be adopted out together. Since another roommate was allergic, these cats (who probably loved their original owner and home) were now forced to spend their days and nights in one room where the occupant was actually rarely there. I had Gizmo and Wilson in a one bedroom apartment so I couldn't rescue them myself, but I convinced my Mom that she had enough room to house them in addition to the 2 she already had - 17 year old BC and her youngin' Sawyer. I would have taken one if I could have, but ended up convincing my Mom to step closer to the cliff into Crazy Cat Ladydom.

The boys Bread and Puppet were named after The Bread and Puppet Theater: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bread_and_Puppet_Theater and holy crap they were *traumatized*. We all got scratched to pieces when we put them in the crates; one person even got blood poisoning. It wasn't pretty.

The Madre (aka The Cat Whisperer) quickly turned them around and they are mostly normal adorable cats, though Bread has a tendency to pick on Sawyer (who also never got along with Gizmo) and Puppet is still very shy around strangers. I adore them both, though Bread is really my fave.

One night while discussing our adoption options Serkan gently suggested that maybe Ma might let me take one of her cats off her hands and I immediately protested - BC needs to stay with her because of his age, Sawyer doesn't get along with Gizmo and the brothers grew up together. Puppet loves my mom dearly and I know he is too sensitive to be parted from her. I thought *maybe* she would consider letting us take Bread home but knew I would never actually ask her to consider it.

That same night The Madre called me to present the exact same idea. Two days later, she brought Bread to me.

It's been a rocky start with Gizmo - at first she was just confused, then she was pissed.

For me it's been pretty easy (minus all the growling and initial spats in the middle of the night) - Bread is a great cuddler. Oh my goodness he loooooves to spoon. And he's 17 pounds of adorable silliness.

I still have plenty of moments where I think "oh, Wilson used to..." or "that's just like Wilson..." and I am smacked in the face with grief, but life is getting back to normal as the kitties adjust to each other and we settle in with our new ball o' fluff.

It's curtains for us...

No really, draperies and such.

In addition to my paint-related day dreaming, I've been eyeing some curtains to aid with privacy and to help disguise the ugly-ass blinds. I've had some creative results dealing with them in previous homes (a valance composed of scarfs, anyone?) but this time I'm really leaning towards a professionally made set of drapes to bring some drama to the bedroom and livingroom. Our place is going to be fun and welcoming, but I would definitely like it to feel classy and sexy too.

What (simple accessory) could accomplish this better in the bedroom than velvet curtains? So sumptous and luscious, they just purr loveliness, in my opinion. The ones on the right come from Urban Outfitters - I think I prefer the turquoise color, mostly because I feel the olive might be too matchy-matchy with our current bedding. Oddly enough, I'm really digging the goldenrod color as well. The one thing I'm not super excited about is the $50-a-panel price tag. Ah well, someday I will have my velvet drapes, just maybe not too incredibly soon.

On the left we have the sheers I've been eyeing at Overstock.com. I don't hate the valance, but my friend Cec thought it was pretty atrocious and I generally trust her design taste. Otherwise, I am drawn to the color and the pattern; I have no problems imagining these shading the atrium window against the lovely gray/brown paint, in front of our new gray sofa. The window is stinkin' huge so I would need two sets, but at $30 a set, they're quite a bit more affordable than those at UO.

Truthfully, I need a bookshelf and some side tables before I need curtains, but I'm having a damn fine time letting my design imagination run wild.

Fun with paint!

Spending most of my life in rentals (with many nomadic years as a kid) I've never really been in a place where I was allowed to paint OR felt like I was going to stick around long enough to really find the proper inspiration/color.

Now, in this joint abode, I am practically obsessed with getting paint on the walls. I keep having to tell myself: "wait for Bear - this is not a one (short) person project" and to my (pleasant) surprise, he has actually expressed a great interest in working on home projects together when he gets back. For weeks I've had the perfect palette for the living room in my head, trying to decide which color should go on which walls and how to play up the high ceiling as well as the atrium window.

Sherwin Williams hooked it up with the "Rooted" collection. We've already got all the accent colors in the group sprinkled through the living room and I'm really loving the gray trend right now. It looks classy, dammit. I may look into color-matching to save some $$ if possible, but as far as I'm concerned my color search is over.

Now I just have to patiently wait until my boyfriend gets home and I have someone tall enough to tape off the ceiling - even with a ladder I still come up just a little...short.

Adventure times in the new abode OR my maintenance manager has a wee crush on me.

As I was preparing to move out of the old place, one of the friends who had come over to help me remarked how much she liked the style of my low-slung ikea Hagali bed frame. Since Bear and I already had plans to replace it in the new abode, I happily agreed to give it to her after I moved out as well as help her set it up. On move day, I broke it down into 11 pieces and those pieces were put in our new bedroom until I could find time to coordinate taking it over by car to her place a few blocks away. After living with a rather large pile of boards and slats in my bedroom for a week and a half we managed to find some mutual free time after work and she walked over.

Our new apartment has its own private hallway off the courtyard with a door on each end that locks behind you. That evening around 6:15 PM she buzzed from the front gate and I ran downstairs to meet her, shutting the upper door behind me to prevent the cats from making a break for it. BIG OOPS - no keys, no jacket and now we're locked out of my apartment.

After determining that there was no way for her 5'3" frame to boost my 5'2" self up to the point where I could safely hoist my body over the edge of the deck to the unlocked slider, I called the building maintenance guy for help. Not even there a month and I'm already a pain in his ass, I tell ya. After having us hanging out in my hallway for about 20 minutes, he returned to the complex and let us in. Before he left he chatted with us for a good while, suggesting he was always happy to return to help cute girls and making a joke about how maybe if he "meowed" I would adopt him along with my other 2 cats. :/ No, buddy. Not likely, but "thanks, really!"

After calling another of her friends over to help and having a beer to celebrate being inside, we loaded up the frame and took it over to her apartment where we drank another beer and team-worked it together in 15 minutes or so.

Now I just have one more piece of unnecessary/unwieldy furniture to dispose of and I can truly feel like I'm ready to start settling in. I'll have to wait a few weeks until Bear gets home to replace the bed frame (and we've been eyeing a couch to replace my chaise,) so in the meantime I'm thinking paint...C'mon payday, momma's got color on the brain!

Oy. A month?

A month since I last blogged. That is a crying shame. Honestly though, I've been really effing busy!

Big, big changes afoot. While Bear was back for his visit we decided to move forward on looking for a place together. And a few days after he returned to Istanbul, I found it.

We are, for all intents and purposes, now co-habitating a lovely 2 bedroom apartment in the Junction neighborhood of West Seattle. Of course, he's not going to be home for another 3 weeks or so but his dresser and some of his clothes and shoes are there, so technically it counts.

There's a muthaf*ckin' Safeway downstairs, y'all (and just beyond that a Subway, Taco Del Mar, Papa Murphy's, teriyaki place, QFC, Cupcake Royale, all kinds of great bars and restaurants, yadda yadda.) I was joking with Bear on Skype last night that "we are soooo metropolitan...in the suburbs." I love love love West Seattle and we now live right in the heart of all the neat stuff (and much closer to Alki/downtown, etc.)

It's been a huge undertaking to do essentially as a singleton. Though I have had help from my friends (OHMIGOD CECILLI WAS A GODSEND) and had movers for the big stuff, it was no small task moving out of a 3rd floor walk-up with an arthritic back. At this point, everything is moved in even if it isn't exactly where it belongs yet. After a little bit of settling I can break out the paint brushes; once Bear gets home we can go furniture shopping (and move the rest of his stuff over from the Island.)

Over the next few weeks I'll start posting the "before" pictures so you guys can see what we're starting with and then as we go I can update with our progress (or you can just stick around to see if I lose my mind in the process.) It'll be fun, promise.

Note to Self (re:shoes)

No more (attempts at) shoe shopping with Bear unless you are specifically looking for flats and/or military inspired boots. O_o

To my ladies: what is up with all the ugly boots this season? And thigh high everything - WHHHHHHY?

Priorities!

Okay, so I didn't go to class. After contemplating what my teacher could possibly (most likely)intend for the last class in the 6 week series I couldn't really find a reason to justify driving from West Seattle to the U District and paying for parking. I've still got Rosetta, a good workbook and loved ones who are more than happy to help me continue learning so I'm not feeling too guilty.

Instead I spent the evening reorganizing my drawers. This weekend the Madre and I searched far and wide (aka as Southcenter's furniture district) for a lingerie chest to help accommodate Bear's clothing when he comes back for his holiday visit (and beyond.) My tidy Virgo tendencies would not do well dealing with him living out of a suitcase, even if only for a week and a half. Because I had skipped the Jingle Run (why I don't own waterproof running gear in Seattle baffles even me, but it was too effing wet) but I still wanted to hang out with my Mom, I figured this was the perfect day to get out and look.

Um, so, I learned a lingerie chest is a very specific type of furniture that places don't keep a lot of versions of AND they usually run around $300 on the lower end. So, off to ikea we went to purchase the $150 version, which we put together in 3 hours the next day. It's simple but beautiful and I seriously felt a sense of accomplishment after making it through all 27 steps without resorting to drinking or throwing things.

The piece it is replacing was a much smaller 2 drawer chest with a usable surface area. Because I didn't go to class, I finally had a chance to make the adjustments to lighting and decor around the bedroom as well as getting the clothes redistributed. Again, my donation pile grew and also I ended up lugging everything downstairs to take to Goodwill.

With only a number of days now until my boyfriend gets back, I have A LOT OF SHIZ TO DO. I believe shall be coping with a little bit of retail therapy to balance out the grocery shopping, fish tank cleaning, bedding washing, girly grooming, etc. I earned it, and I am making it a priority too.

"ours" vs. "my/mine"

Only one week until I get to see my boyfriend. Halle-freakin'-lujah! Not a moment too soon, really.

Also, tonight is my last Beginning Turkish class. Can I get an "Amen?" I've enjoyed the class, but working on noun cases for the past 3 weeks with no forward movement has been incredibly frustrating. I had a pretty good grasp after the first class we worked on them, but I guess she felt the rest of the students were confused enough to warrant an additional 2 sessions (out of 6) on the same stinkin' subject. I think I might go back to Rosetta Stone until I can find an Intermediate class with a little more momentum - I'm not a fan of being forced to pace people who are having trouble grasping pretty simple concepts. Even after discussing my concerns with the teacher, it was clear she did not want to move on to another subject and obviously was not attentive enough to understand how far ahead of the other students a few of us are already moving.

I have a butt-load to take care of around the apartment in the next 7 days, which I am slowly trying to teach myself to refer to as "our" apartment. After 30 years of being an only child and a number of years living on my own (with a few brief failed attempts at cohabitation in my late teens and early 20s,) sometimes I find myself having to consciously focus on the fact that it is now technically "our" apartment and the things in it are essentially "ours" (hands off my Dermalogica, boyfriend.) Once he's actually physically there and helping me with the nitty gritty (like cleaning and finances,) I'm sure it will come much more naturally.

I'm surprisingly not super freaked out about the fact that in a month or so I will no longer be living alone, like, ever again. I know the initial time period where we're crammed into a little one bedroom is going to take adjusting to, but we have our eyes on the prize - a 2 bedroom pet-friendly home with a washer and dryer located somewhere north of the current place. Together. That's the best/most important/coolest part.

Two weeks...

...until I see my sweet, adorable Bear again.

In honor of that happy event, I give you some Al Green:

Reaching the threshold and being ok.

I've found out my breaking point when it comes to my boyfriend being away. Well, I suppose we figured it out before but I didn't realize how the cycle of okayness in my head really truly works (or doesn't.)

Last time Bear left, we agreed that if he were to be gone any longer than 2 months on this recent trip we would figure out a way for one of us to visit. I am now positive this is a pretty good rule to follow from this point forward, for the sake of our sanity if nothing else.

The first month, I'm "OK." I can usually keep myself busy and there aren't too many effects on my daily life, though I am bummed about the non-cuddling and may get a little lazy with my cleaning efforts. Once it passes that one month mark, I start to get sad. Now, if the absence is only one month beyond that I can usually keep it together for another week or so until I have to start readying myself for his return. Pass that one month month with no return date to look forward to and I start to get really sad. Like, "put me on medication sad." I wish I were joking.

Maybe it's just the multiple disappointments we've both had to face this year schedule-wise while still trying to move our relationship forward and the stress of being apart so much AND maybe it will be more bearable as the months go by and we can actually spend more time together than apart, but when it was becoming clear he was going to be gone for 12+ weeks instead of the projected 6-8 it was simply too much for me to handle.

He's my best friend, he's the love of my life, he is my rock; being apart is overwhelmingly hard on both of us. I was already incredibly bummed he'd be gone for Christmas, to add another month beyond that was unimaginable for me. I was crushed. Sadly, it doesn't just strain our relationship, it's also really hard on the friendships I've developed with the rest of his band/management, too.

Thankfully, my Bear is keeping his word. I'm not sure exactly how it came about, but as the offer for the January tour dates became more concrete he apparently became more convinced that he need to come home for a visit. Just like that, "how the hell am I going to make it another 2 months??" transitioned to "oh crap, I have less than 3 weeks to get my sh*t together."

So, he'll come back for a visit and brighten my spirits for the holidays then should only be gone another month beyond that for the tour...Afterward he can come home to me and we can find a bigger place of our own. Finally, our hard work this year will start to pay off the way it should. THAT I can handle.

Seattle Jingle Bell Run 2010 is approaching fast.

Every December for the past 4 years I have participated in the Seattle Jingle Bell Run to support The Arthritis Foundation’s mission to prevent, control and cure arthritis.

Beyond the fact that I am personally afflicted and hope for better treatment options for myself, I am also fully aware that it affects more than 46 million Americans, including 300,000 children, costing the U.S economy over $128 billion annually. Yes, indeed - billions of dollars as one of the nation's most common causes of disability.

I've raised a respectable amount of money in the past, but I truly get the most joy out of the ritual it has become. The Madre will come pick my inevitably grumpy ass up and drop me off in downtown Seattle, where I lace on my bells (alone or with friends) and get my cold butt as quickly to the finish line as I can manage so I can go inside somewhere for breakfast and mimosas. I always smile when the carols start, sometimes I get a little teary, but I always have fun.

If you like to run, please consider joining me this year as one of those crazy people who gets up too early in the cold on a Sunday morning (we can celebrate with mimosas!) You can register here: http://www.seattlejinglebellrun.org/

If you don't like to run and aren't slightly insane and maybe have a few bucks to spare for a really great cause, please consider helping me with my fundraising here: http://seattlejinglebellrun.kintera.org/lovepigeon

If neither are possible for you this year, I'd still love to have your support in spirit! It's freakin' chilly out there.