Sticking it to the Man!

Well, I've been anxiously anticipating a big move near a larger city where I will start my master's degree in June. I have had to put aside the idea of Seattle due to lack of funds, but I have found a college in my current state that appeals to my interests. We made the move this last weekend, with me making arrangements by phone to rent an apartment. Yes, this means I had to put off the idea of purchasing a home as well. Time has just run short.
This is the point in my story where I begin to feel as if either I just get myself into a lot of rotten situations, or I make them out to be bigger deals than they should be, or that for whatever reason I seem to just have a lot of crap happen in my life. Whatever the case, we moved up Saturday and when we got to the place all the whirlwind of activity came to a complete halt. Albeit, briefly. We walk up to an apartment complex that seems to be the worst eyesore in this tiny little town. Upon walking in we were all hit in the face with the rancid smell of urine from former pets. The carpet is spotted with cigarette burns, white paint, and large red spots of "I don't even want to know." A section of carpet has been pulled back so that a grand fan can sit behind it and blow air under the freshly cleaned carpet. Every screen on every window, save one, is either gone or bent in pieces and lying on the ground below the window. The central heat unit turns on and everyone jumps because they think a freight train is getting ready to roll through the living room. Oh, and no worries of my son sneaking crayons to draw on hidden walls behind closet doors, because someone has already graciously done that for him. The list goes on and on. I've never filled out such a detailed property condition report in my life.
Needless to say, it's Saturday, and the property management office doesn't open until 9am opn Monday. My moving party leaves me resting in the stench of my apartment surrounded by piles of boxes and clutter and I head for the nearest McDonalds to steal some free Wi-fi as mine can't be turned on until Friday ( thank goodness tomorrow is Thursday). I spend the weekend staring at boxes, searching for whatever miscelaneous items we need to get us by, and trying not to rip every hair out of my head as I try to decide how to proceed in this current situation. I finally decide that I'll hold off on unpacking as much as I can until I can contact the office Monday and tell them that my 1 year lease has immediately become a month-to-month lease, and by the way, someone better get someone out to replace this putrid carpet immediately. Monday finally creeps up and I stand firm as I dutifully place my phone call only to be given the run around. My college interview is the same day and I try to prepare myself for whatever questions they may have while trying to shove my present living conditions into the recesses of my mind. I think I may have succeeded only partially. Tuesday an office employee with one week's experience comes to complete the apartment walk-thru where he wide-eyed writes "an actual turd pellet on the floor of bedroom #2." Later that afternoon after no response from the manager I call in again only to be told that, "the contractor in charge of carpet shampooing is responsible for the job not being completed as ordered."
Wednesday morning, 9am:
I march into the property management office and ask to speak to the manager. After 10 minutes of waiting in the lobby, where I am tempted to allow my son to enter "operation destruct everything I see" mode, the manager comes to the window avoiding eye-contact. I ask to speak to her in her office. She takes me into a room, being sure to bring a maintenance man, as her body guard I presume. She tries to assure me this is not typical, and the contracted company is being interogated by her boss. I assure her that her job is to make sure the apartments are move-in ready, not leave the final inspections up to the contracted carpet cleaner. By the way, did I mention that the photos of the apartment they showed me are not even the same apartment they moved me into? Here I was told that they have only just taken over management of these properties, and they are trying to the best of their abilities to get them ready for new tenants. She claims she can only offer a 6 month lease, and that they are willing to have the carpets replaced this Friday if I will only move all of my belongs onto the approximately 40 square feet of linoleum in the kitchen before then. I leave shortly after feeling rather confident that I have "stuck it to the man" with all of my talk about how things should have been handled vs. how they have been handled consequently terminating my "legal binding document."
The carpet guy shows up on time to measure the apartment for our new carpet. At this time he balks at how he can't believe they didn't just have the carpet replaced 4-5 months ago when he came out to measure it for new carpet after the last tenants moved out. "And by the way, if you think this is bad, you should have seen and smelled all the feces and urine at that time." Wow. I'll be sure to include that in my email to them explaining to them that my lease is now in fact a month-to-month lease. They just acquired management of this property, but somehow it has sat forgotten for 4-5 months needing new carpet before a shoddy attempt at shampooing is ordered the day before my move in so they can pass the blame off onto some poor, unsuspecting contractor when their new tenant arrives to her new place that reeks of urine and is still littered with turds and dog food?
But that's alright, becaue I've said my peace, and I'll soon be moving on and all of this will be but another blemish in one of my ventures. Besides, it's not everyday I get the opportunity to stick it to the man!

So, I discovered something new about myself tonight. Sort of. My nephew put in a 3D movie to watch with a friend tonight. I sat for awhile watching with them before I realized there were extra pairs of 3D glasses lying around waiting to be worn. Aha, maybe now I could really enjoy the effects of the show without all the annoying pink double vision you get trying to watch 3D without 3D glasses. I picked up a pair and put them on. I've never been to a 3D movie, so this would be a first for me. I'm not sure if they are all made this way or not, I'm assuming they are, but the glasses have one red lens and one green lens. After putting them on I thought, "Geesh, what's all the rage? This sucks!" It looked worse with the glasses on than without! This is when I realized that I didn't think I was seeing things quite right. You see, there's something most people don't know about me because it's not really obvious. I have a lazy eye. My left eye doesn't do hardly any of the work for me to see unless my right eye is completely covered. So, when I wear a pair of glasses I feel like I am looking out of something sort of like this (( ). I see a tiny moon of the left lens, and a very large right lens. I guess what this means is that I'll never be able to enjoy a 3D movie like other people; unless I can somehow afford vision therapy before my left eye decides to quit working completely. How crappy is that? Anyone know a nice, good-looking, single eye doctor that's currently on the market? I'm game.

Letter to my little brother....

Ok, so our little talk has really got me thinking. Or should I say that now I can't sleep? Not a bad thing - don't go feeling guilty or anything. I woke up this morning feeling the pressing need to just really take some time to stop and think about some important things in life that really need me to slow down and look at them. So, I've been thinking and writing and smoking and not sleeping. Then I tried to sleep. Alas, the thoughts won't quit going around and around in my mind. Then I thought of something amidst all the chaos and noise in my mind. I thought of the woman you spoke of. I thought of what it must have been like to be you in that place in time. I pictured her, smiling, talking, sharing. Carefree, seemingly content. And I thought, maybe that's what sprung your tears? Do we not all wish that we could just be free to be who we are? Liberated. Just free. Enjoying all the little pieces of joy that life has to offer? Sounds like she had that. Perhaps your tears surfaced because you saw in her something you long to have for yourself. Something you often hide or forget because we live in a world that is full of suffering, judgement, and pain. Perhaps you saw through her disability and really thought, "Whatever it is that she's got, I want some of that."
Tonight I took our cousin out to a cemetery to teach her how to drive. The highlight of my evening was when I got her really talking about her feelings, long after the driving lesson had ended. The shining moment came when she confessed that she feels that everyone thinks she's just a mess and that she screws up all the time. That is when I had the grand opportunity to tell her that I have never felt that way. That's when I told her that she is a VERY good person, and that I have always known that. I told her she has been through so much more than anyone her age should ever have to endure and she has survived. I told her that she has far too many people in her life telling her she isn't good and that she won't succeed, or that her way is the wrong way. I told her that I believed in her and the truth that she will find her way in this world. I told her she needs to surround herself with more people who see that in her and aren't afraid to tell her the same. I told her she is kind and wonderful.
And now, I'm reminded of my belief that these are the types of moments that keep me hanging on to this life. These moments when we have the opportunity to give another person more than just a moment of our time. More like a piece of ourselves. Even if it lasts no longer than a 30 minute conversation. Because in reality, those conversations can last a lifetime in the heart of the one who has been touched.....by your time, your caring, your kindness....
Love you Little Brother. More than words can express.
Betty

A widowed woman wakes to start the day. Brightness looms overhead and overwhelms her. She buries her face back into her pillow and prays more sleep will rob her of the heavy feeling. Before long the sound of young needy voices draws her from the bed. The pressure of lives dependent on her feels like such a large load to bare. She wonders if she has the right to believe she can care for others when she often questions her ability to take care of herself.
The day already feels dark as she has started off on the wrong foot. Thoughts plague her tired mind. She feels the pressing need to entertain the thoughts, but busyness creeps in instead. The day is a race to fit activities, promises, and work into a schedule that doesn't exist, a stretch of daylight that always runs out too soon. When darkness comes and little voices have fallen silent into their beds she is reminded of a time for peace and quiet. Again she pushes away the need as she finds activities to occupy her time instead. She'll soon realize that all the minutes of the day have ticked away and left her weary and very aware that now the next day will be full of the pressures from the day that has passed.
She wonders when she will choose to live the day she is given instead of watching it pass by.

A Time for Meditation

Dear God,
I've been calling out to you
But it's only been a whisper
I've been reaching towards you
But I have hardly moved to reach at all
I went to church last week
For the first time in months
As I walked my son to the nursery I saw a playland like those at fast food restaurants
In the church
And I wondered where you were
And I wondered where our hearts are
We come to serve you
Yet we seek accommodations to please the hearts of our children?
I heard a sermon
I felt a tugging on my heart
Yet I left confused
I still look around and wonder how much of You we really understand at all
I left to have conversation with a friend
I made confessions
I almost cried
I haven't cried in ages
Except for last night when I realized I had broken my laptop when I dropped it
Where is my heart?
I no longer cry for the fatherless children
But I cry over my possessions?
I want to write songs about Your love
But the pen is still in my hand
I want to pray like you are a friend sitting next to me
But I look over and see an empty chair
I heard tale tonight of another who shook with tears of conviction and appreciation at Your divine yet subtle appearance
I used to feel joy upon hearing such things
Now I feel only sadness and longing
I have been traversing these deserts for far too long
Is this Your plan for me
Or have I lost my way?
I'm asking you to lead me back
I'm begging you to take my hand
I beseech you to carry me
Yet I feel bits of my heart holding on to this loneliness instead
I want to trust You again
Yet I wonder if my idea of trust has misled me in the past