Faith in Humanity...

Not going to lie to you all, this was going to be a rather angry account of what I feel to be the worst public influence of my generation (No, not Justin Bieber...), but instead of bringing you all down in my dour mood and worst, giving E.L James more publicity than she has ever, EVER deserved, I opted to direct you to someone who can actually put sentences together above the ability of a fifteen year old girl and is a native (Kalamazoo shout out!) Michigander. Ladies and Gentlemen, Jennifer Armintrout.

Be advised, she uses some explicit language and will make you laugh so hard milk shoots out of your nose. However, I would be lying to say that if I was doing what she is doing, I could keep the executive funcitoning to restrain my verbal outrage either.



Jen, if you ever read this, please be my homeboy.

Rent is Too Damn High

This post is inspired by Jimmy McMillan. I always believed in you, buddy.

(For references, please direct yourself here.)
 
So, let's talk about Ann Arbor, land of a thousand students. All of which who are currently searching for limited living spaces for the coming year. It's a bit of a mess. Like, black Friday shopping at Wal-mart messy with middle-aged moms decking out grandmothers for the last Tickle Me Elmo (Those are still a thing, right?)

The way housing works in Ann Arbor is literally first-come-first-serve and by 'first-come' I mean those who are months ahead of you on the wait list and by 'first-serve' I am distinguishing between those who can afford to bribe off the realtors and those who squabble over what is left.

...But the night life is amazing!

I am in what you might call a bit of a pickle. You see, I am graduating in the near future and must decide if I want to re-rent in Ann Arbor and enjoy the fabulous life that I have here, at an insane price, or if I move somewhere else with my tail and diploma between my legs. Proverbially, of course. I plan on hanging that stupid piece of paper somewhere on my next rinky-dink apartment, not letting it get crinkled between my thighs. Plus, you know, I don't, like, have an actual tail. ..Besides the point! I went apartment searching this afternoon and after explicitly stating to the realtor that I can't go above a certain price point, he walks me into a beautiful place way above anything I can afford.

And I'll be damned if it wasn't beautiful.

Stained glass windows over a breakfast nook. Full kitchen, including a rare amenity in any Ann Arbor apartment: a dishwasher. Hardwood and new tile flooring. Private entrance, free WiFi and, so help me, a parking space.

A parking space! That is worth the square footage in GOLD in a city where I have received parking tickets just by thinking about parking in an unattended spot. For the uninformed I have been illegally parking all around this town for the past, oh I don't know, three months. It's incredibly straining to move your car on a weekly, if not daily, basis.

I might have let it slip that it was perfect, and he showed me one other open apartment in the house, which was drab and unfortunate compared to the first. I looked around and realized this man had pulled a Randy on me. You know, Randy from Say Yes to the Dress? Well, it's not like I do either... but I've heard... he gives the bride the perfect (overpriced) gown and she's all, "I'm in love with it!" so nothing else compares and then they evilly gouge her for the sentimental value of her wedding day.

I've been evilly gouged for sentimental value. And floor-to-ceiling windows with crown molding. Don't forget those.

So, you'll see me in a cardboard box next year because I can't afford anything in this blasted town... but I found a dime and a penny on the ground on my way back from work tonight, so that's eleven cents down, nine hundred ninety-nine dollars and eighty-nine cents to go...plus utilities.

Feline Fatale. Or why are cats such awesome serial killers?

There exists such a creature, one so vile, so unimaginable, so disgusting, grotesque, and horrifying that I've only ever seen it in Ann Arbor. Why is it that I have never seen a house centipede anywhere but down here at school?
"What's a house centipede?" You might ask, dear Reader. If you've read my blog before you might remember them as the treacherous insects that overtook my bathroom as their stomping grounds last semester.

Still not getting there for you?

Shall I give you a little reminder?

Just one more?

 

 

 

 

 

Hello.

 

 Hey there, little fella.
 So who is suddenly much more aware of all the tingling hairs on their body? Anyone else feeling itchy but don't know why.

No, because I know exactly why. These little mo-fo's have invaded my newest place of residence and tonight was the first sighting.

THIS time however, I was prepared. No, that's a lie. I wasn't prepared at all. I just pointed to it and looked at my cat in panic and said, "Kitty. Kitty. GET it!" I swear she read my mind. Stalker-mode ensued.

 First she just batted at it, and then it made the stupid decision to try and out run her. So she crouched and pounced until she was tired with it's pathetic attempt at survival and she killed him. No, kill is too kind a word. She tortured him, no doubt, ripped off a few of its legs and while they were twitching she killed the rest and then came back to them to dole out the final blow.

I will encourage this behavior with whatever it takes. Treats, petting, baby talk.
Whatever. it. takes.
After reading this article, I wasn't even deterred. More in fact, I was encouraged. I will have the most bug-free home here. All will fear the wrath of Kitty.

Just so long as she doesn't get any funny ideas when I'm sleeping helpless and alone in my bed...

Day 1, 2, Skip a Few...7?

In my attempt to blog everyday I realized that I might possibly have a social circle. So while it became a massive fail in my ten day, ten minute challenge I did indeed succeed in going out a few nights this week.

It's a win-lose-win then, right? Right.

It's especially hard for people like me, who live in very tiny social groups, to expand their friend circles so I'm kind of proud of myself for having a group of friends now at university. It only took four years, but seriously, who's counting?

 First moving here, felt like I was cut off from the people I knew and got along with and making new acquaintances was foreign. I spent a good chunk of my life getting to know the people I went to school with and still debated time and time again about who I wanted as a friend. And that was only in a class of fifty kids. 40,000 students at the University of Michigan has sort of stepped it up a notch.

From that pool of unwitting victims I have aligned myself with some curious folks. All of whom I hold dear. Mostly because they love me so much.

They let me know by giving me things like this:

You know who you are...

But I'm not only on the receiving end of this love train, I do nice things for my friends, too. For example, I would totally turn in their absentee ballots if they won't be in town. Not that I have ever done this. Ever. Not ever in my life.

So here's a bit of trivia for you all. Did you know that being in possession of a ballot that is not your own or that of a family member is a felony?!? Huh. Learn something new every day.

That's a bit steep, wouldn't you say? Because it is crazy hard to vote as a student in the United States.
Especially if you reside a few good hours away from your polling location.

But sorry, that was completely tangential. I just wanted to let you all know how much my friends mean to me. Especially those same friends who would bring me gifts. Like cakes filled with nail files if I were ever to be incarcerated in federal prison...

*cough cough*

So the real take-away from tonight's post is: Get out there and vote!