Roommate Update:
The "new guy" slid Ben a hundred bucks (Ben apparently talked to him about just giving $80), leaving him owing just $25 more. I'm not sure if he's just giving a little bit of money at a time as he gets it or if he's trying to just give money to Ben and hope neither of us counts it or keeps track. If the former is the case, he's going to be in trouble when rent's due early next week...and not terribly trustworthy due to the fact that he doesn't necessarily keep me updated on how much he's giving me and when. If the latter is true, he's dumber than any of us thought, not to mention dishonest.
It's probably silly and obsessive-compulsive of me to be so adamant and insistent on all this, but I don't make a whole lot of money and so this isn't any small deal.
In addition (and this is where I probably sound crazy), it's the principle of the thing.  I get terribly annoyed when people jerk me around, are just generally dishonest or sneaky, or take liberties without any exchange of respect or, I suppose, "earning the right." For example, this guy dirties my dishes and goes a long time (days if not weeks) without washing them. Last night I went to use my remote control for the television and the batteries were missing (admittedly, there's a new girl just moved in who may have done it, as well). I'm a generally reasonable person...if someone wants to borrow dishes, then great...but I'm in the midst of packing things up and am not going to pack up a set of plates if some of them are dirty or even missing (which one was for a couple weeks). If someone needs a couple batteries for something and wants to borrow them from something of mine, just ask...I'm a pretty nice guy and would probably do it. However, to just take stuff without even leaving a note or acknowledging, especially while STILL owing money on rent that was due 4 weeks ago now...it's all starting to boil. Stacey was really good about telling me to just keep it cool and calm regarding the situation...I was just about to go post a nasty note on the mirror upstairs or something. I guess what's worst about the whole thing is that I'm not in the house much, yet my stuff is, and I'm having to trust a complete stranger who's already proven himself not worthy of much trust.
 
On a totally different note...
Last night as soon as I got off work, Stacey and I drove to a few discount/used furniture places to find things to sit on at our new place. We couldn't avoid driving through the "Stockyards" (euphemism for "Slaughterhouse" and "Meat Packing") section of town. As the smell of decayed flesh nauseated us and halted any further discussion of dinner plans, Stacey pointed out that the music playing in my cd player was oddly fitting. Now I'll never be able to listen to (I forget which tracks, but somewhere mid-album) M83's Dead Cities, Red Seas & Lost Ghosts record without thinking of rotting carcass. It really is a beautiful record, however.

As most anyone who would read this blog knows by now, I'm officially married. We're quite happy, thank you.

I wrote a good bit about our honeymoon on the Vagrant Cafe forum...Carter now named it "Joel's Flock" for some reason. I love that guy.
Here are 3 quick possibly weird things about our honeymoon I never posted there:
1. While driving on freeways to Chicago, one thing we did is listen to music lifted from old 78's from the 20's and 30's. It reminded us of early animation and we invented cartoon plots involving Flannery to correspond with the music. I don't know if it gets geekier or weirder than that.
2. Right before seeing the Cubs we ate at a sandwich place called "Lucky's." Everyone should eat at a place called "Lucky's" at some point during life...and this is a good one to eat at.
3. The whole time, we hauled around this piece of lemon pie left over from the rehearsal dinner we never made it to because of the wreck. Well, it started out as several pieces and we nibbled a bit here and there because we didn't want to spazz out from sugar and were getting enough of it from various desserts.

Note: "Continental Breakfast" is a term that means everything from a vast array of fresh juices, bagels, donuts, muffins and great coffee to a countertop holding terribly coffee, day-old donuts and little tiny cans of rancid orange juice.

We're hoping to move into a new place this coming weekend...or at least start about that time. This week we're staying in Stacey's efficiency but spending some time at my townhouse because that's where the internet, cable, and a little bit more space all come true.

Dozens of things I'd like to write about but can't quite today...probably won't much until we're all moved in, but the occasional break at work begs for blog updates so who knows.

In other news, aforementioned roommate paid $50 before we left on the honeymoon. While we were away, he gave my roommate (who is staying with his folks for a week or so until the townhouse is less chaotic) $80 more, though when he told me about it he made it sound like he gave him the remaining balance. Luckily Ben (other roommate) said he'd work with him on it so I wouldn't have to worry about it. I think Ben probably thinks that if I have to deal with it much more, I'll end up sending thugs to break the guy's legs or something. I'm not too happy about all this and have vocalized my sentiments fairly bluntly on more than one occasion.

Listening to: Badly Drawn Boy, One Plus One Is One

As promised, Flannery and I fried fish last night. Catfish nuggets, to be precise. She was one happy cat...after dinner I left for a few hours to go back to my place and get some stuff done, watch the Cubs get swept by the Brewers, check out the Daily Show...I got back and I think the constant fish smell had driven her nuts. I slept there and she kept biting and gnawing on me throughout the night as if I were some huge flopping fish. Maybe she's more right than I think. Stacey also normally gets up earlier than I do, so once 5-something AM (and Stacey doesn't even get up that early now that it's summer) rolled around, Flannery was doing everything in her power to get me out of bed.


One of the interesting and generally enjoyable aspects of the university experience is the presence of and interaction with international students. One of my favorite academic memories is of watching a Korean girl learn to hold her own within upper level English courses, with her writing in particular, and having discussions with her about the differences between educational systems. Where I worked before (still a part of the university) had a few grad students from places like Romania, Turkey, and Venezuela. The conversations and experiences with them were also quite enriching. The interesting thing about the international crowd, though, is that some of them want to stay in the U.S. and as a result, are on the hunt for an American mate. I dated a Russian girl (who I did not meet here where I work) for a few months who would do anything to get some poor dupe to marry her. We broke up at the end of 2002 and she was married already in early 2004 (and some would say Stacey and I are rushing things). After just maybe a month of actually dating she was taking things pretty far and pretty much insisting we get married by the time her student visa would run out. I stayed with her a bit longer just to see if things could be, you know, smoothed a bit and to not be a total jerk, but couldn't deal with that whole plan. I realize people get married for many reasons but I realized not long after that that she wasn't the sort of person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with...and I wasn't the type of person SHE wanted to spend her life with, either. Even on a much less frenetic level, I see around here that there's a decent amount of posturing that goes on because, you know, "this might be the guy (or girl) who keeps me here." It's just fun to watch once you know what to look for.
We also have a decent amount of people who just visit. Right now some Japanese (at least from what I can tell) girls are visiting, probably either late high school or early college age. Without having heard one word spoken, and without a lot of the usual signs (for example, for the most part they're not wearing trendy American girl clothing) I can still tell who the cool kids, the outcasty nerd types and so on are.

In other news, I suppose that if there's any NL team I don't mind seeing sweep the Cubs, it would be the Brewers. That said, these past few days haven't been kind.
Big series with the Cardinals (who have actually won 6 in a row) starts tomorrow night.
Look for the Cubs to have a much better second half...the star players who have been injured should still be back and while it will take them a while to get back to form and gel again, things should be clicking sometime in August...I just hope it isn't too late.

Stacey's driving to Indiana today and making pretty good time. She and I both really enjoy just taking nice long drives, which is part of why our honeymoon will be so fun. Hit play and zoom down the road. I guarantee anyone that I munch more than she does while driving, however. I made her several mix CDs for the drive, 2 of which are spoken word for if she gets sick of music...driving down the road listening to Kerouac and Ginsberg is so incredibly spiritual.

I get to catsit. I think we're having a fishfry tonight.

So I have this new roommate. I think he's under the impression that our place is some sort of frat house or something. I'll withhold any sort of dissertations on the guy until my own computer is safely in my own house, but I'm really sort of wondering a lot right now. Like why he moved into a place with low low rent and then still puts me off when I ask for a rent check. Maybe he just wasn't informed from the get-go, I don't know...since I'm moving out really soon I just let Ben handle all that.

Launch just started a station with all Beatles covers. Out of curiosity I'm giving it a listen. So far it's been "Good Morning, Good Morning" by Critical Mass, an absolutely pointless "Here Comes The Sun" by Voodoo Glow Skulls, Tori Amos moaning out "Happiness is a Warm Gun," George Benson chilling out "Something" even more as it is then tacking "Octopus" at the end, u2's belted out redo of "Helter Skelter," "Dear Prudence" according to Siouxsie, and so on. My favorite so far is this "Hey Jude" by the Grateful Dead.

Hopefully you enjoyed reading about the unfolding apartment drama.
I'm sure not nearly as much as we've enjoyed going through it. Something about people constantly bringing us frustration has made me want to write more, which isn't necessarily going to happen much yet in any actually constructive way, but could possibly make for a fun blog.

Stacey and I were talking about how we're basically two weeks away and we're not necessarily overwhelmed or anything. For me, in Big Life Moments I tend to not really get engorged in them so much as think of strange small things that are a bit related but not necessarily a big deal. For example, earlier I was thinking about here we'll be having this wedding and some good friends and family will be there, and it's really one of the most important days of our lives/life but yet Flannery (the cat) will still be at Stacey's apartment doing what she always does: nap, sit in the window and chirp at birds and squirrels, eat a little out of her little cat dish, slurp water out of the bathtub instead of the waterdish, sharpen her claws and so on. The poor dear is going to be without us for about a week and I'm sure she'll wonder what's going on and be very upset when we get back (especially when we get back and start moving!). She's never been without one of us, really. She'll survive the move just fine and we know she'll be absolutely in love with the new place. One of the rooms has windows on 2 or 3 sides of it and I already know that that and my study will be her favorite places.

I'll describe the new place more once we get into it. We drove around the neighborhood a couple times tonight. It's just a few minutes, 5 or 6, east of us. It's an old Italian neighborhood, sort of like a small town just south of the Old Market area. Lots of trees and little dirt roads for contemplative walking. Trains all over. A block south of the house someone has a pony. A little Italian bakery and some place called Cafe De Paris close by. We like the new area already. A few blocks the topography elevates a little bit and we get an incredible view of the east (across the river and watching the bluffs)and north (downtown).

Now to just get rid of Stacey's place.

Continued History of the Efficiency For Rent Situation

Tuesday: So the guy who was here for more than an hour and left just before 10pm last night called mid-afternoon and said he decided to go with the place he visited after Stacey's. At this point, as much as we want the apartment filled, we were kind of relieved. He had a couple situational aspects that the landlord probably wasn't going to go for and Stacey was happy to not have to even try to talk to the landlord about it. On the other hand, we spent over an hour indulging his monologues about...well, I don't remember, but he talked our ears off. If he'd have kept me away from The Daily Show I'd have been pretty annoyed. Anyway, he called at 9:45 tonight to ask if we'd talked to the landlord about his situation. I told him that no, we hadn't, we didn't see the sense in that since he'd chosen another place. I could sense him launching into another long dissertation on his computer or something so I told him thanks for calling and to have a good night. I felt nearly rude but I'm watching the Cubs, reading my old roommate's highly entertaining blog and comic, not to mention obsessively checking my email and roommates.com account.

The other person I forgot to mention earlier is "MAC," whose first message to us said he needed a place desperately and "I'm serious. I'm not joking." He sent another message later (because when he sent the first one, we still thought Raul was in line) and I called him a couple times over the weekend. He sounded (literally) like an Indian (not Native American, but from India) who was also mentally retarded. He repeatedly asked me the same questions. Typical exchange:
Joel: The rent is $325.
MAC: How much is this per person?
Joel: Well, like it says on the profile, it's an efficiency and only you would be living there unless you choose to get another roommate. It's $325 to live there.
MAC: Is that for everyone or just for one person?
Joel: Just you.
MAC: Oh.
(Silence)
Joel: So do you want to see the place?
MAC: How much is it?
Joel: $325.
MAC: Okay I call you back.

The last time I talked to him was on Sunday. He said he'd call back Monday morning but I haven't heard back. This whole thing has really brought out some of the strangest people I've ever met. My cast of characters isn't quite as colorful as Chris Estey's (look for user "ghettochicken") but I have worked at a Christian bookstore, so it's probably close.

Tuesday night:
It's around 9:45. I'm contemplating whether or not to go see MAP and a couple other bands...show won't start until after 10 sometime, and I have to work early in the morning. My phone rings. A woman named "Marquita" spastically gushes that she doesn't even need to look at the place, she wants it. The deal is that she is part of some Project Step program through the YWCA and Douglas County General Assistance where the YWCA pays her deposit and first month's rent, GA takes over after that and pays $300 of the $325. She's already been accepted and approved for the program, she says, just has to pick out a place, and she is living with someone else on GA and wants to get out of there ASAP so as to not get her friend tired of her. We get down tons of information from her and about what she needs. We'll need to talk to the Peterson Brothers Realty agent early in the morning, then the YWCA worker around 9am, then coordinate things between the two. Marquita calls a second time just to mention a couple other things. We work for a bit to help get things together. Stacey calls the agent early in the morning as planned. He says he's had some bad experience with GA recipients in the past (staying around for a month, then taking off) but is willing to give this a shot, just to help us out. Stacey goes into the YWCA office and talks to the worker there, who says she really doesn't know what the deal is with Marquita -- Marquita apparently keeps leaving messages on her voicemail but never comes in to work on things, doesn't really have a handle on what's going on. The YWCA worker says that we really shouldn't bother. Stacey calls Marquita, who had said she'd call me early (as in 8am) on the phone. Marquita isn't home, but her roommate sounds strung out and doesn't know where Marquita is. At this point Stacey just emails Randy back and tells him to do whatever he needs to do to get someone into the place, just notify us before doing anything that will cost us much...that we're sick of spending all our time, energy, and money on dead ends.

Thursday:
I correspond via email and phone with a guy named "Steve" who sounds excited about the place, but then says on-street parking is probably a no-go since he has a 2004 Grand Am he doesn't want to be messed with. I call the agent to find out if any of the garage spaces are open...they aren't, I let Steve know. We've planned that he'll drop by the apartment on his way home from work, which ends at 6. We get to Stacey's house about 6. At some point she starts working on dinner, I fall asleep, and by 7:30 we realize the guy isn't coming. I'm really curious as to why no one values or practices politeness anymore. I go home and have a terrible night of sleep thanks to others in the house, but 2 weeks from now that won't be an issue anymore.