My Shit-hole Apartment (Part 3)

If you've read parts one, two, and two and a half, you'll know that I've had my fair share of strange and/or undesirable living situations. During my junior year of college, all of that bad apartment mojo was about to change...sort of.

Living Away From Home Year 3

My First Real Apartment

(A Tale of an Awesome Apartment, and a Bad Place)

Towards the end of summer, I miraculously found a great newish two-bedroom apartment that was only 2 blocks from campus, had central air, had a parking lot, had laundry in the basement, and was a comfortable size. I don't know quite how I managed to pull it off, but I did, even with Roommate Jessica 2 time zones away on her mission trip. The owner of the 6-unit apartment building was kind of a kooky old gentleman, but sweet enough and never gave us a hard time -in fact, when I asked if he was ok with my ferrets living there, his exact words were "as long as it's not a mountain lion, I don't really care." The superintendent was what one might describe as "blue collar" or as others might describe as "white trash." But, I was not about to judge, since he was a competent handy-man. I put down our deposit, and through the miracle of fax machines got the lease signed by both myself and Roommate Jessica, and it was a done deal -we had an apartment.

Source

On the celebrated day of the move, after I had left Creepy Roommate Mary's place far behind and my mom left town to let me settle in, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I had a two-bedroom apartment all to myself for almost 3 weeks, (until Roommate Jessica returned from her mission trip) I had my ferrets living with me again, and I still had almost a month until fall classes started! Unfortunately, for someone who has not-properly-treated clinical depression and an undiagnosed social anxiety disorder, alone-time is probably not the best medicine. Roommate Jessica had told me once that she saw how healing my ferrets were for me after The Imp ended his emotionally abusive hold on me, so I thought as long as I took my medication and spent time with my ferrets I would shake off whatever this strange cloud of doom was that plagued me. It was a stressful time in my life. It was that time in your life when you aren't really a kid anymore, but the world doesn't yet see you as an adult, and you're not quite sure where you fit in.

I continued to make poor dietary choices, and drink a lot more liquor, thus, I was gaining some weight and not feeling healthy. I had poor self-image and I withdrew so much, that my professors/directors jokingly nicknamed me "the phantom auditioner." I would sign my name on the audition sheets, but then I would fail to show up for my audition times because I was too depressed to leave my room, or because I would have a huge attack of poor self-esteem and tell myself that it wasn't worth auditioning because they wouldn't cast me anyway. Then, afterwards, I would feel guilty for not trying harder, and then that guilt would start a downward spiral of more guilt and self-esteem issues, topped with depression and anxiety. This would pressure me to give in to the temptation to eat poorly and drink more. I tried to tell myself I was fine.

I tried dating a lot of different guys. Most of them were nice, but were all wrong for me.  I can't even remember most of their names. I missed a lot of classes, and my grades started to suffer, which just perpetuated the guilt/depression cycle.  Roommate Jessica passive-aggressively tried to "help" by posting bible verses all over the apartment, which, even for someone who grew up in a Christian home, was not helpful. My skewed depression goggles viewed Roommate Jessica as judgmental and condescending -something I definitely didn't need. That too helped perpetuate the vicious guilt/depression cycle. I don't like to have regrets, but I do regret a lot of my junior year of college because I didn't seek out the help I needed when I needed it.  I almost let the depression beat me that year.

Source

I'm sure due in part to my behavior, but also due to Roommate Jessica's renewed spirituality/high-and-mightiness, we started drifting apart as roommates and friends. Living in the apartment with her started to feel cold and uncomfortable, much like living with Creepy Roommate Mary. But, it was an issue I didn't know how to fix seeing as how I could barely take care of myself and my inner demons. What friends I still managed to hang onto in that time jokingly called me "Beastmaster" or "Crazy Ferret Lady" because of how much time I invested in my furbabies. What most people don't know, though, is that my ferrets truly are the ones who saved me from myself at that time in my life. They gave me a reason to get up in the morning, a reason to try harder, a reason to be. So, for that, I will be ever grateful to them.



Gigit & Boomer



Dustifer "Dusty" Boots



(Afterthought: When Roommate Jessica and I moved into the Awesome Apartment, the first floor of the building contained a print shop. A year prior, the print shop had been a music store. Before Roommate Jessica and I decided on the House From Hell, we had talked about actually moving to the Awesome Apartment building instead, but The Imp talked me out of it saying we shouldn't live above a music shop. I sometimes wonder how my life may have been different if we had moved to the Awesome Apartment that year instead of the House From Hell.)

The Horse-Pony ~UPDATED~ (For realsies this time)

While waiting for the bus to take us to the Javits Center for NYCC last Saturday, I noticed a policeman on a horse nearby. I love animals. If I could take all of the homeless, abused and unwanted animals in and make sure that each one of them was loved and cared for, I would. If the resources and the man hours existed, it would be done tomorrow by me (even birds, and I am terrified of birds, I would rather kiss a snake than touch a bird, I'm crazy).

I had a dog growing up named Sophie, who sadly died a couple of years ago from a heart attack. I also (like every little girl) desperately wanted a horse when I was growing up. I took riding lessons and would go out of my way to pet, play with, or be near horses (which wasn't too difficult growing up in Colorado). I wanted every pet imaginable as a kid. I wanted turtles, mice, gerbils, hamsters, ferrets, skunks, prairie dogs, tigers, elephants, frogs, and more. I never got to have anything more exotic than goldfish (and Sophie after years of begging my parents), but in college I missed having a pet and had trouble coping with being in that adulthood limbo that comes with living on your own in college but still getting some financial help from your parents, so I got a ferret. And another. And another. I could dedicate an entire blog (not just a post) to my love of ferrets and the Mustelid family. But I won't...yet. My ferrets were awesome pets. They were my babies and the main source of joy in my life. Alas, they have extremely short lifespans and have all since departed this plane of existence, but that's another tale for another time.

Long-story-short: I love animals, they make me happy and when I see a cute animal, I get a little adrenaline rush and I will point and say the type of animal when I see it, almost like a toddler when they learn their animals. It's ridiculous, but it's a strange compulsion I have, it's almost a reflex.

So on this particular morning, I hadn't had my coffee yet, I was coming down with a cold, and I was shivering a little from the wind; my brain hadn't quite turned on yet. I saw the police horse, and got a little thrill and in my tired mushy brain the words, horse, police, and pony all got mixed together. I pointed down the street and said, "Look, it's a horse-pony!"
Boyfriend just chuckled at me and said, "I think most ponies are horse ponies." He went on about the difference between "dog-ponies" and "cat-ponies" and "tweetybird-ponies" for a few minutes, just to make sure he got the most he could out of this new classic "Jessword", while taking every advantage of making fun of me as much as possible.
I started thinking about it. What would a Horse-Pony or a Dog-Pony look like..?

Um, the best thing ever!!!

According to Getty Images, this is a Horse-Pony:

UPDATE: 4/2/12- Well, at least now I can dress one up to look like a horse-pony...

This is a Dog-Pony:

Here's a dog that kind of looks like a horse:

I like my Horse-Pony the best:(Thank you MS Paint and free time at work)
This is my Dog-Pony:

And my Cat-Pony:

Maybe they will all go on adventures together and fight crime or something.


P.S I am not the only one who gets excited about cops on horses and "horsey-cops" and Horse-Ponies. Thank you, Simon Helberg's wife!