Why I Want to Buy a House

My girlfriend and I are ready to take the plunge.  We're moving in together.  It was hard enough to cope with the requisite panic attacks when we finally came to this decision.  I mean, moving in with a girlfriend is a big deal!  Especially if she's someone you hope to be with forever.  (Oh, God!!!)

It took hours of therapy.  My poor (amazing) girlfriend tolerated ten million disturbing "what-if" questions.  I lost sleep.  My girlfriend lost sleep.  I drank lots of herbal tea.  And sometimes beer.

Then, I manned up.  I had to prepare for the move.  I gathered all of my unwanted crap and put it in giveaway garbage bags.  I dragged them all to Friendship Park for my neighborhood's free exchange.  I defied police by placing my old shoes out onto the park lawn.  (That's a whole different story.)  I even gave them the finger.  (I'm lying.)  

I was so ready.  Time to find an em-effin apartment.  After all of the emotional turmoil I conquered, this was going to be the easy part!  

I began obsessively surfing craigslist three months in advance of our planned move-in date.  Not surprisingly, there wasn't much to choose from.  Still, I managed to sniff out a fabulous apartment in the best Pittsburgh neighborhood for a halfway decent price.  I was the first to jump on it.  I scheduled an appointment.  I told Girlfriend to bring her checkbook.  It was that awesome.

When we got there, there were already two other girls signing the application.  Screw them!  We filled out an application, anyway.  Their credit sucks.  I could just feel it.  Of course, it was less likely that our outstanding credit would beat all six of the other completed applications. The best part?  The landlord wasn't there to make a decision.  So, the current tenants were just collecting applications so that the landlord could... I dunno... shred them all to confetti paper? 

Which brings me to my first point.  If you're a tenant showing a property to prospective new tenants, just take the first application you get.  Tell everyone else the property's been taken.  Don't waste my time by having me fill out an application so that your landlord can pull my name out of a hat in some sick twisted game of Awesome Apartment Lottery.  You made me cry.  Fuck you.

Our hopes were renewed when we found another place.  It was huge and gorgeous in a not-as-great neighborhood for a stellar price.  This time, we made sure we got the first available appointment.  Unfortunately, I couldn't be there for the viewing, so Girlfriend went alone.  It was an immediate yes.  She decided we needed to get the application in right away, so she drove the application over to me.  I left in the middle of work to fill it out.  By the time she had driven back, the apartment had already been taken by some other dick-sucking bastard.    

I want to shoot every single apartment-searching mother fucker in this city.  SHOOT!

Now, we're back to the drawing board.  Just in the past two days, I've plodded through hundreds of craigslist posts.  None of them are as good as the other ones.  I hate them all.  Every. Single. Last. One.  

First of all, apartments without laundry in the building might as well be set on fire.  I don't want to carry my laundry to the laundromat, even if it is only a half-block away.  One girl suggested that I could grab a drink at the dive bar next door while I wait for my laundry to wash.  Great!  I could go commando to a smoky bar on a Wednesday evening while some crackhead steals my freshly-cleaned underwear from the drier.  That's exactly how I want to spend my afterwork hours.  Go straight to hell.

Secondly, a shit hole apartment with granite countertops is still a shit hole apartment.  Your fabulous countertops and oak cabinets don't make your miniature piece of shit kitchen any more desirable to me. Invest your time and money in knocking down a wall so that my girlfriend and I can both fit at the countertop.  

Thirdly, if you haven't changed the shag carpet in your slum since the 1970's, where do you get off telling people they can't have pets?  Are you kidding?  Because when my dog digs up your dry-rotted carpet, you'll finally have to invest in some new flooring?  Go play in traffic.  

We're only a month-and-a-half away from our move-in date, and I'm ready to call a real estate agent.  After all this crap, I'm so ferociously committed to moving in with my girlfriend, I'm ready to buy a house to make it happen.  At the very least, I'm flagging the next awesome craigslist post I see.  Wish me luck.  

In the Event of an Emergency... What About Pittsburgh?

Pittsburgh isn't exactly prone to epic hurricanes.  Of all the great American cities, it's probably the least likely target for a terrorist attack.  With its cold winters, mediocre job opportunities, and troubled public schools, Pittsburgh can't be described as a Mecca for... well, anything.  But when the world really does end, Pittsburgh is probably right where you'd want to be. 

Think about it.  Once the requisite looting and debauchery settles down, we have a plethora of resources to sustain ourselves.  Not only do we have some of the largest expanses of urban green space in the country, we also have lots of folks who know how to actually grow food on it.  With Pittsburgh's characteristic neighborly inhabitants, cooperation might just outrun competition. 

But all of that aside, what if?  I mean, let's just say that the United States finally pisses off the world enough that even Canada won't be our "neutral" semi-partner any more?  (I need to go on a separate rant about Canada.  Their fucking quarters need to get out of my change, for real.)  What if some commie bastards have bombed every city in America except Pittsburgh and Pittsburgh is next on the list?

Or what if an asteroid is headed straight for us?  Or a hurricane veers crazily off course?  Or Martians attack?  Or the Mon Wharf floods (again)?  Or there's a freak earthquake (um...)? 

With news of Hurricane Irene pounding New York City, it's clear that unlikely events really do happen.  CNN had a conniption fit when up to 370,000 people were ordered to evacuate the city's low-lying areas.  (That's more, by the way, than the entire population of Pittsburgh.)  And I don't know about you, but I sure felt that earthquake last week.  It's not entirely impossible that Pittsburgh would find itself under the threat of a serious emergency. 

What is Pittsburgh's great emergency evacuation plan? 

From what I can tell, there isn't one.  In fact, the Port Authority of Allegheny County's website is more informative than the city site on evacuation preparedness.  (You know there's a problem when Port Authority does something right.  They can't even get a bus to arrive on time under normal circumstances.)  Basically, Pittsburgh's website just says that an evacuation is highly unlikely. 

So, why bother even planning for it?

I guess Mayor Ravensthal did so well with Snowmaggedon (or snOMG! if you're that Generation-Y) that he doesn't feel the need to plan ahead much. 

Best part is, the City was given a huge grant (something in the neighborhood of $400,000) to do a study on disaster preparednes after the September 11 attacks.  The resulting Pittsburgh Emergency Operations Plan hints at evacuation, but doesn't say anything especially concrete. 

For example, once you get the hospitals evacuated, how and to where do the patients get transported?  If I evacuate by bus (since I don't own a car), which podunk little Pennsyltucky town am I going to get stranded in? 

Frankly, I'm a little pissed off that our great city government paid so much money for such a joke of a document.  I would have pulled this shit out of my ass for half the money.  Clearly, I should open up my own disaster preparedness consulting firm. 

Until I do, keep your fingers crossed that Pittsburgh doesn't get hit with another earthquake. 

P.S.  Apparently, some folks are already criticizing Mayor Bloomberg for ordering evacuations that turned out to be unnecessary.  I have one thing to say to them: WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?  I guess you think it's better to let 370,000 people sit in the way of an unpredictable storm.  Get a fucking grip. 

Mouse Wars, Part 3

As an update to Mouse Wars, Part 1...

I might write it a eulogy.

What (Really) Killed Amy Winehouse?

Amy Winehouse with ex-husband
Blake Fielder-Civil

One needs only to take a gander at Amy Winehouse's troubled lyrics to learn that the lady had issues. With news of her untimely death came the jokes even the worst comedian could have crafted, most referring to the lyrics from her infamous song, "Rehab". Insensitive as those jokes may be, they give power to the notion that Amy - along with every other addict - deserves to be punished and ridiculed.

No doubt that Amy's addiction issues caused pain to the people around her. Her father had even written a eulogy for her, preparing himself for the early death of his daughter. The Facebook commentary echos the same sentiment: No big surprise.

The thing is, Amy did go to rehab. Several times. It didn't work. In fact, for every rehab success story one can find numerous failures.

The success rate of addiction rehabilitation programs is questionable at best. Depending on which study you read, you'll find success rates anywhere between 5% and 30%.

Moral of the story?  Rehabilitation programs don't work for the majority of people who enter them.

Why?  Well, an article by the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism (NIAAA) entitled "The Past and Future of Research on Treatment of Alcohol Dependence" sheds some light on the issue. According to the article, up to 75% of alcohol dependent people recover on their own. With no help from any recovery program. Furthermore, it seems that any treatment program, regardless of its approach, succeeds as often as any other - which is to say, not often.

Take those two facts and smash 'em together.  It seems that the addict's desire to quit is the single most important motivator in their success. That's a far cry from the statements you will hear at a typical Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, where the first of twelve steps is to "admit that you are powerless" over your addiction. If addicts are truly powerless over their addictions, how is research telling us otherwise?

The NIAAA article bemoans the treatment industry's lack of interest in the scientific research findings:

"For the most part, the scientific advances of the last 40 years have not been well embraced by treatment providers...The model on which most currently available treatment relies was developed about 50 years ago, when scientific understanding of substance use disorders was rudimentary..."

Now, this article was written in the US.  Amy Winehouse was treated in London.  But I bet the story is about the same.

Where does that leave the addict? From what I can tell, it leaves them alone. Scary as that might seem, it is empowering to find that a person's decision to quit can be so powerful. The unfortunate truth about many addicts is that they just aren't ready to quit. The majority who enter treatment programs do so at the urging of relatives and friends, not for themselves. Unfortunately, those who are not committed to quitting are likely to fail.

My opinion: Alcohol and drug treatment programs are not developed for the benefit of the addict, but to provide a false sense of control to the friends and family of the addict, who are likely to shell out thousands of dollars for their loved one's recovery. Call me a bitch for saying that. It might be true.

So, back to my topic.

What (Really) Killed Amy Winehouse?

Like many things in life, there is no easy answer to why people drink themselves to death. In the case of Amy Winehouse, however, I found a few interesting facts about women who drink that seem to resonate well with her story:

1. Alcoholic women are more likely to die from their addiction than alcoholic men.
2. Young women (say, age 27) are more likely to drink than older women.
3. Women who have never married, are living with an unmarried partner, or who are separated or divorced are more prone to heavy drinking. 

Add 1+2+3.  A young single woman going through the ups and downs of relationship woes is more likely to drink herself to death.

For those of us who have ever gone through an especially shitty break-up, the last statement should be no shocker. Relationship trouble is probably the hardest thing in life to cope with. As I stated in the post, "Why Single People Are so Crazy", staying single into our late 20's subjects us to so much more bullshit than staying in the same relationship for years on end.  Relationship problems and a foggy sense of self will dig a girl an early grave.

Basically, Amy Winehouse died yesterday morning because she never learned how to deal with the pain that life (and love) brings.  Rehabilitation programs didn't teach her, so she resorted to the only thing that made it better.  Unfortunately, that "thing" had become an addiction stronger than her.

I suspect there are a plethora of women out there who will struggle with the same problems. For all her wrongdoings, this talented young woman paid the ultimate price.

Mouse Wars, Part 1

So, since about 2 months ago, I've had this mouse problem.  It started with just one mouse.  I thought it was cute, so I didn't tell my landlord about it right away.  Instead, I just chased it into the apartment downstairs hoping that it would wander into one of the traps my neighbors were surely setting for it.

Turns out, they thought it was cute, too.

So, now we all share the mouse.  It's become pretty routine this time o' night to see a tiny brown shadow skitter across the living room floor.  I always look just in time to catch a glimpse of our wild pet's intrusive and reckless cuteness.  Then the mouse is gone.

Tonight, our worst fears were confirmed.  This little brown shadow was smaller and slower than the rest: a baby.

So, we now have multiple mice.

Now, it's not as if I've done nothing here.  I did eventually call my landlord to tell him that we would need to set traps throughout the whole building before this turned into a serious problem.  He came over with his two lanky handy men, and they set traps all over my kitchen.

Of course, since then, I've refused to go searching for any of them, for fear of what I might find: squished and bloody cuteness, contorted from the helpless struggle for life as the strength was slowly drained from its tiny furry body.

I don't have the coping skills for that sort of trauma.

When I saw the baby mouse, I knew I should try to shoo it toward the traps that I know are set.  But instead, I went into immediate cute-hunting mode.

I sprang into action, chasing the mouse all over my tiny two-room apartment, and away from the villainous traps under the fridge.  Twice, I nearly cornered it, which left me befuddled.

What if I did corner it?  What exactly was I going to do when that happened?

I realized that my primitive cute-seeking brain had wanted to capture the thing with my bare hands.  Having nearly succeeded, another primitive piece of my brain yelled, "What are you thinking? Animals are dirty rabid creatures that will stop at nothing to destroy human life!"

Trapped in the confusion of the battle between these two impulses, I finally grabbed a Mason jar.

A jar?  And then what?

I didn't know.  All that mattered was that I catch this cute thing.

Alas, it escaped my evil clutches.  It disappeared underneath a stack of shelves I keep at the front door.  Pulling the shelves away, I found the tiny hole in the wall where it must have found refuge.  It was then that my logical brain finally kicked in, telling me that this was where I should set a trap.

I mourned the implications of this realization.  Now, I have to kill the mouse!  I've pulled a (luckily empty) trap from the kitchen, and placed it in front of my mouse's house.  Meanwhile, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that my mouse is too smart to get caught in it.

Wish him luck.  :)

DISCLAIMER: The title of this post is in no way intended to imply that there will be a Part 2.  There may, however, be a Part 3.  Get out of the way.

Why Single People Are So Crazy

I have been a single-and-seeking lesbian for nearly 15 years.  In that time, I have dated about 13 people with some degree of seriousness.  I have gone on so many crash-and-burn semi-blind dates that I lost count six years ago.  I've gone from jaded to hopeful to celibate to infatuated to broken and back again at least once every year.

Through it all, I have dealt with a plethora of issues.  It's one thing to learn how to navigate the troubled waters of someone else's issues while also dealing with your own along the way.  It's another thing entirely to have tried this with 13 different people.

To illustrate, let's pretend that all of my exes were actually one person who I've been dating steadily for the last 15 years.  Here is the composite story:

• She's achieved eight undergraduate degrees, three master's degrees, and one PhD
• She's fluent in nine languages
• She's an artist, a writer, a therapist, a teacher, a stay-at-home mom, a medical professional, and an accomplished public health researcher
• She has attempted suicide multiple times
• She struggles with serious body image issues
• She's had 3 abortions
• She's been hospitalized for mental illness
• She's an alcoholic with an off-and-on drug problem
• She's been raised with every sort of family dysfunction imaginable
• She's been raped countless times
• We've broken up 15 times
• We've moved in and out of an apartment together twice
• We've been in separate countries from each other for a total of 1 year and 4 months
• We've talked about marriage, but never even got engaged
• She's cheated on me 5 times (that I know of)  

... no wonder I'm fucking exhausted.  Try to even imagine going through all of that with just one person. It's not possible, no matter how dysfunctional your relationship might be.  This is how being single drives a person to the brink of insanity.  The longer you're single, and the more people you date, the more crazy you're apt to become.    

The longer I'm single, the harder it is to find someone.  Either they've gone completely bonkers in their own futile search for a soul-mate, or they have no clue why I'm so bonkers because they've only had 2 relationships in their whole precious little lives.  

It should come as no surprise that people in a relationship tend to be healthier [as the public health researcher informs me].  I drink less, smoke less, and sleep better when I'm in a relationship.  Of course knowing this doesn't help my neuroses.  Now, not only do I worry that I'll be alone for eternity, but that the ups-and-downs of dating is digging me an early grave.  [Thanks a lot, ex-girlfriends.]  

In a previous post I referred to my past relationships as failures.  A friend - trying to be a friend - asked me if they were really failures, after all.  Weren't they just "learning experiences"?  

Yes.  They were.  I learned lots.  For example: 

• I can say, "Please don't strap my legs down" in Japanese.  
• Romanians recycle their grave plots - and yes, it's as creepy as it sounds.
• If you draw a chalk outline around a dead bird on the sidewalk, most people will walk by without even noticing 

I bet you didn't know those things either.  Nifty.  As much as I am thankful to know that Romania and Bulgaria both became democracies in 1989, I'd rather just have a fucking girlfriend, already, and leave the learning for the classroom.  

There comes a time in every young girl's life when the training wheels come off and we finally get to ride the big-girl bicycle.  That's where I'm at.  Anything less is a waste of my time - in other words, a "failure".

Perhaps you've wondered why your ex-girlfriend was so crazy [especially if she was me].  Maybe you're a happily coupled person who just can't connect with your single friends, anymore.  Or maybe you're single and you're wondering why everyone else seems so bat-shit-crazy.

The truth is, we're all perfectly sane people.  We're just coping with a lot of shit.  So, be nice to us... and remember us on our birthdays.  

Letter to Sharon Needles

Yes, that's right.  I deleted "Letter to Sharon Needles".  But I kept the link up.  Here's why:

I support and love Sharon Needles 100%.  Some people seem to have taken what I've written out of context, and completely misinterpreted the point of my post.  I think she is an amazing and talented performer who pushes boundaries, and I love every second of it.

Dear Sharon Needles,

WIN WIN WIN!  TAKE PHI PHI DOWN!

Heart,

Lady Lemon Peel