Grandma's House World

I’m finally out of my apartment! Many thanks to my dad, stepmom, and boyfriend for all their help. Things did not, as usual, go perfectly smoothly (I’m beginning to believe that nothing ever goes perfectly smoothly, and that this is a concept someone made up to tease people). The worst thing that happened is that my pet rabbit, Coltrane, decided he would chew up my carpet ON MY FRICKIN’ LAST DAY THERE. As I started to hyperventilate, cry, and kiss my security deposit goodbye, my father swooped in to the rescue! He cut the patch of carpet Coltrane chewed into a square and measured it. He then proceeded to go into the closet where the water heater lives and cut a square of carpet in the desired size from there. He placed it on the spot, and you seriously can’t even tell something happened (Uheights Apartments, if you're reading this, I'm only kidding!). This kind of thing would never have occurred to me. Thank goodness for brave, carpet-cutting types. I’m more of a crap-oh-shit-oh-shit-why-me-why-me-what-do-I-do type when it comes to these things.

Oh, and Coltrane is going to get his balls chopped off soon. No, not as punishment for the carpet (at least not only because of the carpet…). I also told Chris he better not think about eating my carpet.


Anyways, it’s going to be an interesting few days, as I’m staying with my grandmother until the 11th when Chris and I move into our new place. My grandma just had surgery on her foot, so it’s actually good that I’m going to be here to help out. It’s just that, sometimes, this house seems like an alien planet. I seriously feel like Spaceman Spiff (anyone?) exploring a whole other world right now. Here, in Grandma’s House World, things must be clean. Ok, by clean I mean immaculately perfect. If you use a towel once, you are supposed to wash it afterwards. EVERY TIME! I think I maybe wash my towels like once every couple months. Maybe. Ok fine, I’m gross, whatever. But, I’m wondering how these Grandma’s House World towels last for more than a year or so; they get the shit beat out of them in the washer and dryer 47 times as often as my towels do. I’m surprised most of the linen closet isn’t just shreds of used-to-be-towels-and-washcloths. Sheets are washed almost as often here. I think the washer and dryer may be run 6 times a day. Any clothes are also washed as soon as they are taken off of a human and are deemed “dirty.” This means the washer has, max, five things in it (!!!!!!!!) at a time. Again, very foreign to me. I’m the girl who stuffs the washer as full as it will go after going two weeks without doing laundry. And I wonder what my grandma would say if I told her I wear jeans and bras 8-10 times before I wash them (mmmk, stop judging please)? Also, the day starts much earlier in Grandma’s House World than in Ryan’s Mid-Twenties World. Ew.

The other interesting part is that Coltrane is here in the house with me, and my grandmother has never ever had a “pet.” In fact, I think she’s pretending he’s not here so she doesn’t have to worry about it. He has to stay in his smaller cage (poor bun), but he’s adjusting just fine. Sharing a room with the bunny is not ideal, but I’m trying not to take over my grandmother’s whole house. Coltrane makes all sorts of weird noises when I’m trying to sleep, and his hay makes me sneeze a little bit.

As Grandma’s House World adventures unfold, I will be sure to share them. For now, Chris is bringing pizza over, and I refuse to share that.

Bun Behind Bars

RYAN'S RECOMMENDATIONS:

Listening: My grandma was listening to a CD featuring hit songs from 1952 today. It was actually quite entertaining!

Reading: I finished Watership Down last night. Definitely now one of my favorite novels. It's one of those books that you can't stop thinking about, even after you're finished. Now, I'm about to start Chesapeake by James Michener.

Working Out: I went for a good, old fashioned run today. I'm having a hard time getting back into a routine since I'm staying with my grandmother, but it felt good to get a jog in. If it's not too hot where you are, get your booty moving!

Ryan-the-Girl Moments

If you look up the name "Ryan" for a female on Urban Dictionary, here is what the entry says:
"A girl that has been through hell with that name. She is probaly a super catch, she has a great sence of humor and wants nothing more then to make everyone happy. If you know a female Ryan, you are lucky, they are rare. Don't judge her by her looks she is by far a better person then you can see from the outside." (Ha, I swear I didn't write that!) Go to http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Ryan%20(girl) if you want to check it out for yourself! Yeah, that made me grin.

Some random lady posted this on Yahoo! Answers: "Okay, to everyone who thinks I'm ever going to name a baby girl Ryan: 1) I'm not pregnant, I was just stating I knew a girl named Ryan, and looking for your opinions. 2) I think it's horrible for a girl." Um, yeah. Opposite of grinning happening here. Hating you, hating your comma splice.

Anyways, so it's safe to say that people have very different opinions regarding "appropriateness" of certain names for certain people.

My name has certainly caused some interesting exchanges in my life. I'm going to call these "Ryan-the-Girl Moments," but I'm sure other females with traditionally male names have dealt with the same sorts of issues (as have, I'm sure, males with traditionally female names). You'd think that, by now (two thousand-freakin'-TEN), people would be catching on to that whole don't-assume-anything thing, but apparently this is not the case. It's a form of stereotyping! Here are but a few of the more memorable Ryan-the-Girl Moments I've experienced:

- I think the first time I was ever really embarrased of my name was in 5th or 6th grade when some jackass at the local skating rink (anyone?) laughed at my name and then asked if my parents "wanted me to be a boy." I believe I just blushed sixteen shades of red and then cried. Greeeeeeeeeeeeeeat comeback 12-year-old me. Anyways, Effff you Mean-Skating-Rink-Bully!

-Also in middle school, I tried to check out a book at the library in school and they thought I was lying about my name. When I gave them my last name, they kept trying to tell me I was the Kathleen in their system. I politely informed them that no, Kathleen is my sister. I am Ryan (Yes I am. I promise I am. ID? I'm 13, I don't have ID yet!). When someone is trying to tell you that you don't know your own name, it's pretty hard to keep your cool or take them even remotely seriously. So, Effff you Narrow-Minded-Librarian-Lady!

-Let's see, one of my favorite, most memorable Ryan-the-Girl Moments was when I turned 18 and applied for my very first voter registration card. I happily filled out all my forms and mailed them in. At last! The Vote! Well, a few days later we got a voicemail on the house phone from a woman who worked in the voter registration office. She was so very helpful. She calmly explained how the Babarsky family's son Ryan had accidentlally checked the "female" box, and could he please call in to give them verification that he was, indeed, a male? They would just go ahead and fix it, but it's policy to have to get at least vocal verification to make any changes (!!!!!!!!). WTF? Maybe she thought this 18-year-old boy was playing a joke? Anyways, Efff you Know-It-All-Voter-Lady!

-Very recently (perhaps a month or two ago), I went to my local pet shop to get some bunny supplies. I am a "preferred pet" customer, so I get a small discount when I check out. This guy I had never seen was working there and I asked him to put my phone number into the system (which pulls up my name and then applies the discount). Well, I give this new guy my phone number and he sees my name pop up and gives me a really funny look. Well, apparently he thought I was lying about who I was, because when I gave him my credit card to pay (which has my picture on it), he was like "oh, so you ARE Ryan." And I was like, "um, you thought I was lying?" And then he said "What, did your parents want you to be a boy?" And, all of a sudden I had a horrible flashback to 5th or 6th grade at the skating rink, and my face turned red and all I could muster was a "no" and a Die-bitch-die kind of look. And, of course, as I'm walking out of the store, seething with anger, I come up with a comeback: "What, did you parents want you to be a stupid, hateful, dumbass?" Why can't my brain work a little faster? Effff you Stupid-Hateful-Dumbass-Petstore-Guy! Of course, a little while after that, at the same pet store, a new girl was working and couldn't stop complimenting me on my name! People are so very different!

There are all sorts of situations in general that are a pain too because of my name:
-Going to the bank: I have to give like 8 forms of ID, my mother's maiden name, and promise them my firstborn if I want to cash a stupid check.
-Getting mail: If I had a nickel for every piece of mail I got addressed to Mr. Ryan Babarsky, I'd be living in a mansion, married to a beach bum, and drinking all the coffee I want by now.
-Going on interviews: Every time I've ever interviewed for a job, I've had the interviewer's shock at having a female walk in to deal with.

Then there are the fun things:
-People usually remember my name because it is different.
-My boyfriend Chris has figured out a fun game: Introduce us as Chris and Ryan but switch our names around to totally confuse the person.
-It's so much fun finding other girls with masculine names! It's like an instant friend! I almost interrupted some 13-year-old girls' putt-putt game the other week because I overheard that one of them was named Ryan! Then I decided that I would probably just freak them out.

I would like to keep coming back to this whole gender/name thing on occasion because it's interesting to me and because it is a huge part of my life. Has anyone else experienced this kind of Ryan-the-Girl Moment? Next post coming soon about my move-out experience yesterday. T'was interesting, for sure.

RYAN'S RECOMMENDATIONS:

Listening: Back to the River by Susan Tedeschi. I got this CD for Christmas and love it. Lately I've been particularly obsessed with the track called "700 Houses." It's about Hurricane Katrina and Louisiana and is an amazing song. Also, Derek Trucks plays this freakin' awesome guitar solo on the track. It literally brings me to tears almost every time I hear it. There's something about it that pierces into my body and gives me shivers. I highly recommend the album.

Reading: Still reading Watership Down because I don't have nearly as much time to read as I would like. But seriously, what could be better? It's BUNNIES, people!

Working Out: One of the things I recently added to my workout collection was a medicine ball. It's really small, full of sand, and 6 lbs. It's great for some ab workout stuff, and easily portable. Y'all should get your selves one if that sounds good to you!

CoffeeCoffeeCoffee!

This morning, I was expected to function like a normal human being…. BEFORE I got to make my coffee (pause for gasps!). Gasp! Let me explain something: I am not a human being in the morning until I get my coffee (doncha love when people call it “MY coffee.” “I need my coffee. Wait…… not until I’ve had my coffee”). I am more like a puddle of still-sleeping, still-dreaming, barely-alive primordial ooze. Don’t even ask me how I drive to work in ooze form. It ain’t pretty. Anyways, so this morning I got to work and all of a sudden I was expected to do about a gazillion important things in a very short time span For. A. Client. Meeting. Translation: This shit matters. Don’t fuck it up. Oh, and hurry, will ya? BEFORE MY FREAKIN’ COFFEE! Well, long story short, I got everything done in a timely manner for the meeting, and all superiors were happy. But, the whole time I was scrambling to get things together, all I could think was “Um, what’s up with all these people who think they’re allowed to talk to me before I get my coffee?” Perhaps you saw this on my facebook status. My sister commented saying “best. status.ever.” Like.

Now, my relationship with coffee is a little more intimate than other people’s (and here I go continuing the I-enter-into-relationships-with-inanimate-objects thing). My first job was working in a gourmet shop, and I immediately gravitated towards working the espresso bar. My second job was in a coffee shop called, and get this, “The Cuppa Giddyup (anyone familiar with Middleburg, VA will understand).” I worked in a couple more coffee shops in college too. I loved it. And so, I got to drink really good coffee and espresso all the time. For free! And so I did. A lot. And I got spoiled because I was always drinking really good, high-quality made-by-me caffeinated beverages. Making someone a good latte or cappuccino is an art. Every barista has his or her own style and skill level, just like every artist or musician has his or hers. Except you can’t drink paintings, so screw that.

Continuing with the metaphor, if coffee is an art, then the coffee at work is something your five-year-old brat with ADD could have crapped out in his sleep. It’s horrendously awful. We have one of those one-cup makers where you put in these little pods of coffee, fill the well with water, push a button, and total shit comes out. I’m not sure exactly why it tastes so bad, but I know good, and this isn’t it. But, I drink this everyday. And I complain when I don’t get it. Why? Because crappy coffee is way better than no coffee. And, this is free coffee. Well, free to me. If I spent $3.00 every single morning to get a latte at my local coffee shop, that would be an extra $90 a month I was spending! That’s around the total sum of my cell phone bill and my electric bill (Is it bad that I’m semi-seriously contemplating what my life would be like if I decided to drink good lattes every morning instead of have electricity and a phone?). We had to read this book for work called Smart Women Finish Rich, and there was this whole chapter called “The Latte Factor.” The anecdote featured a young woman (like, my age) who was complaining about how she couldn’t save any money. So, they eventually figure out that if she stops buying her morning latte and saves the money instead, she can become a filthy rich millionaire and buy a big mansion and marry a handsome beach bum and buy all the coffee she wants and drink lattes all day long and be happy for ever and ever. Ok, that last part or two may be a bit of an exaggeration. But, you get the point. So, I drink my sludge every morning so I’m no longer ooze.

Yum.

Ah, Bella! A cappuccino I enjoyed in San Gimignano, Italy

RYAN'S RECOMMENDATIONS:

Reading: Getting towards the end of Watership Down. Seriously guys, this is a wonderful book. If you haven't read it, put it on your list. Also, Dooce.com is still my favorite blog to read (if you're interested!)

Listening: I've been listening to The Band alot lately. My dad and sister got to see Levon Helm last week (so jealous!), who was The Band's drummer and one of the lead vocalists. Inspired me to pull out my Last Waltz CD. I'm hoping to also get one of Levon Helm's solo CDs soon.

Working Out: I've been bad this week, mainly because I've been spending my extra time packing up my apartment. I'm moving out Friday! So, I recommend reading my friend Caitlin's Fitness Tip of the Day blog. She writes great posts and gives great advice. At least while I'm not working out I can further educate myself in the health and fitness department!

Weekend Getaway: Princeton, NJ

I just got back from a quick weekend getaway with my boyfriend Chris (even though I am moving in less than a week and should probably be dedicating all my time and energy into making all that happen!). We drove up to Princeton (where his parents live), and attended his good friend's birthday party in Pennsylvania (just across the bridge). The reasoning that went into convincing myself to go went thusly: "Well, I've been working really hard and have been really stressed out, so I deserve a quick break. Chris wants me to go, so I should go. I need to blow off a little steam. Everyone needs to get outta dodge every once in awhile." And so, I went. And I'm glad I went. And those are my excuses. And I guess I don't really need excuses. Ok, so maybe I feel a little guilty for spending my weekend having fun instead of slaving away in my apartment.

Anyways, the party in PA was fun (full of a group of characters... sometimes NJ feels like another planet!), but mostly I enjoyed getting to spend time with Chris. He showed me around Princeton and we just had a good time. We got breakfast, checked out the Princeton campus, checked out some cool shops, went to the Record Exchange (Chris spent $40 in a heartbeat!), got drinks in a sports bar, and then headed to PA. It really is the simple things that make me happy. His parents have a piano, so he played it a good bit while we were there. I really love hearing him play, and was even moved to tears at once point (yes, I'm the crazy emotional girl who cries all the time!). Anyways, I guess I'm just bragging a little about my catch!

On the way home we got stuck in this insane, scary storm and I was just so glad to be with Chris during the whole thing. There is no one I trust more or feel safer with. I kept thinking that, had I been by myself, I most likely would have been panicked. There were a few amusing moments on the trip that I could have focused on for this post to get a laugh, but really my overall feeling after the trip is one of love and contentment. I couldn't be happier that this move will result in my getting to live with Chris, and I'm so excited we will be hitting our 5-year mark next month (with the exception of a bump or two along the way!). I'm really very lucky.

RYAN'S RECOMMENDATIONS:

Listening: Today's recs are the two albums Chris bought at the Princeton Record Exchange, which we listened to on our way back to VA. One is Antifogmatic by The Punch Brothers, and the other is Roadsongs by Derek Trucks Band. The Punch Brothers album is awesome, and Chris got the special edition that came with a bonus disk and a DVD. I think it's worth the extra money to get the DVD. What an amazing bit of footage! Check it out. The Derek Trucks album was great too. It's a two disk live album and features some great tunes.

Compulsive Obsession

I get obsessed with things very easily. I can’t help it (well, maybe I can, but even so, I don’t really wanna). It’s almost like I enter into a relationship with the object of my obsession. Some are fleeting and last for only a few weeks, others are “serious relationships” and last years. When I say I get obsessed with “things,” by “things” I mean artists, albums, songs, movies, books, ideas, and other such objects. I’ve had a fling with Bob Dylan, a quickie with his song “Boots of Spanish Leather” and a lovers’ spat with Highway 61 Revisited.

 My very first meaningful long-term relationship was with The Beatles (Yup. All four of ‘em! Muahahahaha!). Let me explain how this “obsession” thing works. In this case, I grew up listening to The Beatles and always had a place in my heart for them. But, early in high school (after making it through my Spice Girls/Destiny’s Child phase- come on, admit it: You had one of those Dark Ages too), I heard the Beatles 1 CD they came out with. All of a sudden, I was hearing these songs differently. To me, nothing else even came close to comparing to them. Enter: obsession. I consumed any and every thing I could find even remotely related to The Beatles. I read books, interviews, and liner notes. I listened to every track they ever recorded hundreds of times, and I memorized every word. I learned which Beatle wrote and sang which songs. I memorized every useless piece of trivia related to the band that I could find. I picked my dad’s brain. I probably watched the movie A Hard Day’s Night 50 times. I even decided to learn to play guitar because I was so into them. I got a Beatles chord book and used it to teach myself to play. I was convinced that I should have been born earlier so I could have seen The Beatles live.

After probably three years of complete and total obsession (during the later part of which I started branching out a very little bit- Bob Dylan, etc) I went to college and started being exposed to all sorts of music. And somehow, in the background of my life, my Beatles relationship faded into a loving friendship full of understanding and private jokes.

Other obsessions I have experienced (most of these are music-related):

-Joni Mitchell has been my other big long-term relationship-type obsession. She is a goddess.

-Patty Griffin’s A Kiss in Time (I am currently experiencing a renaissance of obsession with this album. My re-obsessions occur frequently too!)

-The Last Waltz by The Band (I still maintain that I would give up years of my life to have been at this concert)

-The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley (The only book I’ve read more than twice)

-The Once soundtrack

-Aretha Franklin in general

-Harry Potter series


Man, I’m a big slut.

What are your obsessions?

I'm gonna go ahead and say that RYAN'S RECOMMENDATIONS on this post are the things above that I have been/am obsessed with!

Why I Love Microsoft Paint

Today's post is more visual than usual. I don't have enough time to write something, and I made these pictures in Paint yesterday when our internet wasn't working and I couldn't do anything I needed to do.

This one is called "When it Rains it Pours" or "Fish Out of Water" or "That Shit Sucks"

I call this one "Bee Yourself." Can you spot the rabbit poop?

What, Me Worry?

(Ten points for those of you who know that is Alfred E. Neuman’s tagline from Mad Magazine).

I’ve been a worrier for as long as I can remember. Even when I was a little girl I worried every time my sister got in trouble or basically when anyone wasn’t getting along with anyone else (which, I learned, happens all the damn time). It was never something I thought was unusual. That is, until I got to college and my “worries” got worse and started causing physical problems. I got pretty thin. I swear that I was so uptight that my body metabolized everything faster than it was supposed to. I felt like I would eat and then be hungry an hour later. My stomach was always gurgling. I think maybe I worried so much that my stomach produced more acid than it was supposed to. I also kept thinking I was pregnant. I mean, I must have taken 25 pregnancy tests my junior year. As soon as I felt a little weird I would start worrying and thinking I might be pregnant. I literally worried myself sick (which I had always thought was just an expression). As soon as I felt nauseous (from worry) I would immediately think “morning sickness” and proceed to freak myself out even more. Horrible cycle really.

The reason I’m writing about anxiety on this post is that I had a horrible panic attack yesterday. I started feeling a little bit weird after I had my morning coffee and the feeling got slowly worse. Eventually I was breathing hard, wringing my fingers, shaking, bouncing, and my heart was pounding. I couldn’t make it stop. It’s so amazing what the body can do in response to the mind. I do have a lot of stressors to deal with right now, both in my personal and professional lives, and I guess it got to be too much. I had to take an anxiety medication to calm down at all. I don’t like taking meds when I don’t have to, but it was so bad that I didn’t know what else to do.

Today I spent some time doing yoga to try to get a little of the anxious energy out while also getting to relax. It was somewhat helpful. I think everyone needs to spend a little time doing something that is relaxing on a daily basis.

I also want to put an all-encompassing “thank you” out there to the people in my life who have helped me through these types of situations. Seriously, sometimes you can’t go it alone. Sometimes you need people.

Sorry this isn’t a particularly witty or funny post. I want to write about what is happening in my life, and right now, this is it.


RYAN’S RECOMMENDATIONS:

Listening: For the Roses, by Joni Mitchell- This is a beautiful album that I come back to over and over again. It’s in a sort of in-between phase for her (that is, in-between her folk and jazz influences). There’s a song on it called “Let the Wind Carry Me” that is amazing. I highly recommend it.
Reading: Watership Down is getting better and better. I’ve cried twice now reading it! The characters are fascinating (and they’re cute little bunnies!).
Working out: Weight Loss Yoga, by Bob Harper- This is the yoga DVD I did earlier today. It’s not necessarily easy, but it is not high-impact like some of the other DVDs I workout with. And the cool-down is incredibly relaxing. I feel like jello afterwards.
Researching: Cameras- Help help.