The Verona

After the drama with the neighbors, I started looking on Craigslist. I wanted to see what was out there. Do I want to move again??? Hell no. But I refuse to live like I have been living over some pettiness. I called this lady about these apartments, and they were cheap and right around the corner from campus. Out-of-state tuition?? Ha! Yet still close to work. I am pumped. I am psyched. I am ready. She knows I am a UC student. She knows what I am looking for. We meet to see the apartment. It is way too small for us. I think she homed in on the "student" part of our conversation more than she did the "Respiratory Therapist" part. As in I am not on a student's normal budget, nor is a tiny shabby apartment going to do for me and my family.
She can tell by the look on my face that I am not thrilled, and asks if I have time for one more. I tell her yes, but am really reluctant. If it looked like that, I really would have rather gone home to my mounting pile of schoolwork.

We follow her through this really horrible area of town, and I am chain-smoking, getting scared of the place she is going to show us. We end up parked on the street on this corner, and I look all around us at the different buildings.Which one. I see this one out of the corner of my eye, and don't really look that way because I couldn't bare the disappointment if she told me I was wrong. John is sure it is fate because in the courtyard, there is a flagpole. Underneath Old Glory is none other than the flag of the United States Marine Corps.

I ask her which building we are going to, and she points. I am sold.

We walk through the wrought-iron gate, past the fountain in the courtyard. The looping driveway, where others are not allowed to drive cars unless moving in, is the perfect opportunity for my son to have a place to ride his scooter and bike this summer. It is beautiful. My breath catches in my throat. My eyes cannot leave the arches on the balconies.
We enter the building and climb the marble staircases to the first condo she wants to show me. It has old-world charm. But it is not perfect. In its state of oldness, it looks kind of shabby. I am thinking is we can make it work with decor. I love the building. She can tell by the look on my face that I am not completely in-love with the living quarters, and says she has another.

We climb three flights of the marble staircase, my hand brushing the mahogany banisters and get to the very top floor. We pass through the beautiful front door. My heart melts.

There are two closets in every room, with custom cabinetry and chests in each. I can see my purses lining the shelves. There are enough that I could have one for shoes, one for handbags, and one for clothes, and still leave enough for John and Evan. I actually open the leaded glass French doors and step onto the arched balcony I was admiring from the courtyard. My office in this little house??? No. I can see myself out on this stone and brick balcony with a cup of coffee, studying or reading, or just getting peace from the chaos of my life. It is a cocoon for me. But alas, I must go inside and see the rest of the space.

The bedrooms are enormous. The hardwood floors in much better repair than the house we are in now. There is a huge dining area between the kitchen and living room with a gorgeous view of the street. My office. Built-in bookcases line the walls in several of the rooms. The future home of anatomy/ physiology, biology, chemistry, pharmacology.

We pass under the antique light fixtures, through the scullery that she calls a "pantry" (a long narrow room lined with cabinetry and counters on both sides, with a bracket for hanging pots and pans, into the kitchen with the worn floor, enough to look rustic and weathered, but nothing I would change. There is this huge cabinet mounted under the window, and she explains to Evan that this is where the milk man used to deliver fresh milk to the families who lived there. I love that is still there. Evan pokes his little head inside, fascinated that there used to be a day when you could not pick up a plastic jug of milk at any store.

I wish I had the words to capture the beauty of the place. Although it is in this enormous building, the space is huge. Our place now is huge, and you could fit three of this one in it. Even though there are many other tenants, it feels like a safe haven. Like we are removed from the rest of the world. Quiet, secluded. Home.

Now for the logistics of the thing. I developer bought the building. One by one, he is gutting the old and remodeling them into modern, gorgeous condos. The new is just as beautiful as the old. The new are selling for about $200K. We can rent one of the old because he is in the process of selling the ones that have already been flipped. He is not flipping any more until he sells what he has. The rent is about $20 cheaper per month than what we are in now. In the long run, with me paying out-of-state tuition, it will save me about $18K in the next year alone, without putting me too far from work. The downside is that, if all goes according to plan, the condo would only be available to rent for about 2 years.
But there is a kink in the works. The new ones he is selling for $200K? They are condos, as in divided into rooms. There are a couple that are loft-style. No room divisions. The same size, but other than the bathroom, no walls. The same finishing touches otherwise. The lofts that he has have roof access in addition to the balcony (the same balcony I love). There is one that has no roof access. He is selling that for a disgustingly cheap rate. As in my car was vastly more expensive than this piece of property. With that being said, if I hired a contractor to create rooms out of the vast empty space, I could still have this gorgeous $200K condo for about the cost of having a nice vehicle. And it would be mine. If I keep my payments about the same as my rent is now, it would be paid off within a year or so. In other words, by the time I finish my undergraduate work and face entering med school, the burden of paying for housing would no longer be mine to bear. I could stop the insane hours at work at the exact time when I needed to. This falls into my plan perfectly. And we would be owners of a luxury condo in my hometown, Cincinnati, right around the corner from UC College of Medicine. You see where I am going with this.

Worst case scenario is we apply and get to rent one of the beautiful places until they are ready to do the work to flip it. My fear is that if I do this, I won't want to leave.

Guess What! Calculus Sucks (And Other Random Drama)

The first week of school is officially completed. Biology was okay. I managed to work ahead there, completing an asignment and handing it in a week before the deadline. Chamistry? I guess it is okay too, other than the fact that he made a 3-hour online assignment due the morning after a 12 hour shift, and there was physically no way for me to complete it on time. After a discussion with the professor, we agreed that some points were better than none, and I would complete it for partial credit, with the intent of dropping that grade at the end of the quarter. Calculus? The good news there is that I actually comprehend the lectures. But it completely sucks. I actually have to use my brain. A lot.

Maybe it is because this is a new thing to me, but the whole issue of being a full-time student, and a mom, and a wife, and a full-time RT...Well the task has been rather daunting this week. I have had no breathing room in my schedule. I keep telling myself that this is because it is still oin the old schedule, where I am not off on the weekdays. This past week was the last week I have to worry about that for awhile. Hopefully this week will be better. I work a 12 tonight, then am off for 5 days, then I go back to working just the weekends.

So what is the other drama? Our neighbors and our landlord. When John called him to make arrangements to get our rent to him, he had some interesting things to say. Apparently the other tenants have been complaining about us and the level of noise that is coming from our apartment. Doors slamming and Evan playing, and even the time I come home from work on the weekend mornings. What are we supposed to do? Evan is 7. He has to play at some point. Toy trucks are loud on hardwood floors, especially with these 12-foot high ceilings, where the sound is amplified. Yet he cannot go outside to play because the yard is full of German Shepherd crap. The doors slamming? Same effect. When you shut a door here, it echos. And Evan's bedroom doors are pocket doors. They make a horrible racket when you close them because they don't slide smoothly on the track. And me? Coming home from work in the morning, I am as quiet as possible, because usually John and Evan are still asleep. But the same thing goes there as well. You can hear the front door to the building, I am sure, because I can hear when they all come and go. But they are complaining that they can hear me enter the building at 7:30 in the morning on Saturdays when they are trying to sleep in. Am I supposed to quit my job???
They say the noise starts at 7:30 in the morning. I can see that. During the week, that is when Evan is usally leaving for school. On the weekends, I am coming home from work. But they say it has been going all day everyday this week. How? Evan has been back in school. I have been in school. When I am not in school, I have been sleeping. Or studying. I guaruntee that Calculus-study does not get me into a wild frenzy enough to disturb my neighbors. The weeks before that? I was working so many nights a week that I was sleeping all day, and under fear of death, John and Evan were quiet to allow it.
I refuse to walk on eggshells. As it is, since we have heard of the complaints, we have stopped allowing Evan to close his bedroom doors. We are turning everything off at night so as not to disturb him while he is trying to sleep in the open room. I am afraid to even leave the house or return because of this. And I have been getting on my child and husband over every tiny noise.
Yet there is Kurt Cobain upstairs (we call him this in the hopes that he will have the same demise). This guy, at about 2 in the morning, will crank his stereo all the way up and try to play his electric guitar along with the songs. Most are asleep at that time, but you know my hours. If I am home, I am studying. On two different occasions, I had to stop because I couldn't concentrate. Yet I did not complain. There are just certain things you have to deal with when living in an apartment, especially in a building that was not designed initially to be an apartment.
The dog crap? It came to my attention that not only do we have Beowulf in the backyard, but the upstairs neighboir is allowing her dog (the ugliest dog I have evr seen) to do the same in the front yard, where I tread to go to and from the house. What is wrong with these people???

So...desperate times call for desperate measures, and I made a discovery that is going to be in the next post because there is too much to tell.

I Am A Bearcat...

Okay, so this is home. I saw this video and couldn't help but smile.

This one too...

Where Do I Start???

I am home. As in I can walk outside in the brisk winter air and see the skyline. It is so surreal.
The new house, well it has been interesting. Cable hook-up was an adventure, and my phone and internet were installed before Thanksgiving and we never knew it because apparently the phone jack was not hooked to anything other than the wall. But all is well now. I am back where I have always belonged. Cincinnati.

So I am here in my new office, just off of the kitchen. It is very drafty in here, but I like things cool anyhow. I can see cozying up in here with thick socks and cozy sweats with a piping hot cup of coffee, studying away. The house, or better yet, the part of the house we are renting, stretches straight back. In order, it goes like this: Our bedroom, Evan's bedroom, the living room, the bathrooms and pantry, followed by the kitchen. My little area is at the very back, and all I can hear are noises from the street. Absolutely perfect.

Okay so what next? Evan's school...We started my baby boy in his new private school. It is amazing how they treat the children when you are paying them large sums of money. His first day was consumed by testing. He did very well, scoring 92% overall for the tasks he should have mastered for first grade. On many of the sections, he scored 100%. The principal said he is "exceptional". There are some areas that need work, such as handwriting, so they kept him in first grade. But because they have such small classes, they were able to tailor-make a curriculum just for him, so the areas in which he excels will be handled differently for him than they are for his peers. When we went to pick him up from his first day, his teacher actually walked him out to our car and told us how he did that day. Our only main obstacle is that we need to find uniforms for him. Nothing major: a baby blue polo with navy blue khakis. No problem, right? Wrong! Have you ever tried to find a little boy's baby blue polo in the middle of winter? I am hoping that now that I am back online, I will be able to find what I need via the internet.

I guess the only item left to update is my great return to a higher learning environment. I have officially been admitted to the University of Cincinnati as a Cell and Molecular Biology major. I just officially accepted my small fortune in student loans to pay for this next step in reaching my goals. The stage is set. I'm ready.

Home Again Soon

These are photos I found online of the historic area to which we are moving. They are not my pics, as my digital camera is on the fritz. The first pic is the clencher. This is the view across the suspension bridge from Covington to Cincinnati. You can see downtown behind the bridge. This is the view I missed the most in all of my years away.

Just down the street from our new home are all of these older, gorgeous houses. This one is about a block away from us.

These streets will make a wonderful backdrop for family walks each night.

The cathedral. John and I were going to get married here before we decided to elope all those years ago. Now that my son is going to be going to a catholic school, I will be revisiting my catholic roots. We have talked about John converting to catholicism. We have been wanting to renew our vows on our ten-year anniversary, to have the ceremony we missed out on by eloping. Maybe, just maybe.....

Dream Home

3 Stories. Pine floors. Sub Z Stainless steel fridge and Viking range. Thge top floor has a sleeping loft with city views. One of those 20th century rowhouses in Covington, right on the river. Wrought-iron gates, exposed-brick walls on the interior of the home.
Expensive, but my dream home nonetheless. And it is available.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008: The Calm After the Storm

We are almost finished getting the new house in order. Almost all of the laundry is finished, barring about 2 loads. Internet and cable is ordered. Phone, electric and water installed and going strong. The change of address is turned in. I can start to relax a little.
I’ve learned that I am addicted to blogging when I keep a journal in the form of a Word document that I can transplant to Bending and Not Breaking when my internet is up and running. There will be a lot of posts on the same date when all is said and done, as I still have another week without internet service. Okay, off I go to hang pictures. Hopefully, I do not trip over John in the process, who has found his new home on the living room floor.

Yes, This Does Indeed Suck!

Yep, I am in Packing Hell! We've only lived here a year and the new house is just a block away. I am trying so hard to resist the urge to throw everything in a pile of generalized crap and take a shop broom and sweep it down the street to the new house. Where did all of this stuff come from?

Riverfest is Coming!

WTF is Riverfest? Well every year, Cincinnatians like myself celebrate Labor Day weekend in style. And others show up from elsewhere also. But it is a Cincinnati thing, and it happens every year.

Well the thing is, this is almost surreal for me this year. We have survived hell. Poverty. A brain tumor. The last year I was there for the WEBN Fireworks was the year before Evan was born. Well, Evan was born at 12:05 AM as the calender switched from August 31st to September 1st 7 years ago. This year his birthday just happens to coincide with the fireworks, and we are going. On the 4th of July this summer, Evan was heartbroken because we did not have the money to purchase fireworks, as we were still trying to recover from the financial aftermath of the brain tumor. He watched the neighbors letting theirs off in the distance, and it broke my heart. John and I told him to wait until his birthday, that he would then see the most phenomenal fireworks display and party I have ever seen. That all of the other kids will be at boring family picnics while he is there. And on his Birthday of all days.

But the firworks also coincide with my homecoming. What better way to celebrate my return to my hometown? I am so ready!

In the meantime, here is last year's celebration.