Weekend with the parents

My parents were in town this weekend. What a great time…sharing the city with them, hanging around the apartment, spending time with Paul. And the weather got progressively better. It was nice to have some comfort around. Plus I got some “early Christmas presents” in the form of the most perfect wool blazer from Banana Republic. My parents went to PF Chang's before meeting me at my apartment. And there was traffic on Friday night and way too many people at the mall. Ahhh....just like home. And it turns out I’m not the only one with a problem with Cincinnati street signs. My poor parents had to find my apartment at night in the rain. We ended up making a game out of who could find the street signs first.

This weekend also marked the first meeting of the future in-laws: My parents met Paul’s parents. I’m sure all parties were nervous at the outset (I know I was), but it went really well! Everyone got along easily. In fact, the two sets took to each other so well, that Paul and I were left on the side, thinking What do we do with ourselves? We decided to try splitting up (men and women) and I was reminded, yet again, how it’s harder for women in different life stages to connect than for men. While Paul fell into the conversion about real estate and intelligent design (or whatever) I stood in the kitchen awkwardly trying to have something to say about hormone replacement.

My love-hate relationship with technology

I love technology. I love the convenience. I love how it helps get me out of a jam. I love that I don’t have to leave my house to do research (or shop or listen to a sermon). Sometimes I hate technology as much as I love it.

It has not been a good week technology-wise. First, there was the whole spilling water thing. Which didn’t turn out as well as I’d hoped. My computer is now at Dell being fixed (thank the Lord for warranties). I’m borrowing a computer from work. To get on the Internet I need to login into my wireless connection. No big deal, right? Right, except that I forgot my password and stupidly didn’t right it down. So, then I had to reset the router and set everything back up on the computer. Which didn’t work. And the Internet doesn’t work when I hook it directly up to cable. So, I’m “borrowing” another wireless connection in my building which has a really low strength. So I keep losing my connection to the work server and have to repeatedly log in. Not surprisingly, at the end of the day, all I want to do is curl up in front of the TV and be a couch potato. Except that for some reason I get the Disney channel instead of the CW and I can’t watch Gilmore Girls or America’s Next Top Model. I think, Maybe I’ll watch Veronica Mars on DVD instead. Oh wait, I can only watch a DVD from the beginning (and not, for example, episode 8) because we lost the remote to the DVD player. Luckily, I have a DVD player on my computer, for watching DVDs halfway through. Yes, that would be the same computer that is currently with Dell. And DVDs don’t play on my work computer. Yesterday, I bought a remote at Target to use on the DVD player because I wanted something to finally work. But when I set it up it didn’t work. Five mental breakdowns later, here I am. Plus, as I type this, after every third word, the cursor moves up or down a line without my permission. I ended up taking a sick day because I just couldn’t deal.

Always use a sippy cup

I learned my lesson this morning, and nearly the hard way.

I’ve been smart about drinking coffee near my laptop. It’s one thing to spill on a stand alone keyboard, but it’s another thing to spill on a laptop keyboard, since getting a new keyboard would be getting a new computer. A couple months ago, when I was at my parents’, I brought a mug of coffee into the computer room. I set it down on the desk, thinking, Maybe I shouldn’t set that down there. I could spill. (If you know me, you know the odds of me spilling are very high.) And then I thought, No, I won’t spill. Yep, you can guess what happened next. Coffee everywhere. Nothing was damaged, fortunately. And my dad was surprisingly good-natured about the whole thing. Mom suggested that I get a mug with a lid to use from now on, to which my dad, with his dry wit, replied, "Oh you mean she needs a sippy cup." Yes, Dad, I drink my coffee in an adult sippy cup. And it’s already saved my laptop from many a disaster.

Then this morning, while my coffee was brewing, I brought in a glass of water—sans lid. I went about checking email and then somehow I tipped the glass—right onto my computer. There was a lot of pleading to God and Oh, $%#@! that followed. I turned off my computer, cleaned up the mess, shook the computer a few times (I wonder how good that is for the machine?) and then turned it back on. The power button came on. I sighed relief. And then nothing happened. Blank screen. More button pushing. More blank screen. More pleading to God. I was outlining a plan for what to do until I could get a new computer, how to retrieve my files, only slightly hysterical. And, then (praise God!), 10 minutes later the computer turned on. It appears to be working fine now except for the random water droplets that appear every so often. I’m going to Staples soon to get some DVDs to back up my computer. And no more liquids without a sippy cup.

Mom was right

I’m learning that my mom was right about some things (unfortunately, she reads this post, so she’ll know she’s right. Well, she probably already knew she’s right.) Shopping always makes you feel better. True. You’ll care about cleaning when you have your own place. True. It’s fun to cook when there’s someone to cook for. True. That last one took me off guard. It turns out that I enjoy cooking for Paul. He appreciates my cooking and it’s nice to have someone to serve. I’ve been playing Suzy homemaker—getting dinner together while Paul unwinds from work with the paper. I cooked three—THREE!—meals in a row, from scratch, one without a recipe. Yes, I’m in shock too. I’m supposed to hate cooking. I made mushroom chicken, then enchiladas, and then Italian meatloaf (see picture). (All very easy and very tasty, so let me know if you want the recipes.) I’m still having a hard time believing this. I kept commenting on how amazed I was last night. And I also was certain that each meal would taste bad, which turned out not to be true every time.

I will say that, cooking is still a novelty, one that’s likely to wear off. And it helps that I’m home all day. I think if I had a commute and came home exhausted at 6:30 every night, cooking wouldn’t be quite so fun. Working at home lets me start dinner at 3:00, go grocery shopping in the morning, and relax before dinner. I love working at home, by the way. I do the same amount of work (sometimes more because there are fewer distractions), but I finish the day with more energy. I don’t spend as much time shopping and running errands now, and dealing with people every day was exhausting to me. Home is very relaxing and comforting. Anyway, I also don’t spend three hours on the phone every night anymore, so that adds a lot of time too.

I might just have what it takes to be domestic, which means there’s hope for everyone!

Classic...with a twist

While I may succumb to technology trends…fashion, not so much. What?! You might exclaim. Yes, Kristin does not like the fashion trends! I feel completely ridiculous in long tunics and wide belts. I hate slouchy boots. And what short, curvy girl looks good in skinny jeans? You know it’s bad when you find the LOFT too trendy. Even in Ohio, a girl can’t get a simple, chunky wool sweater (except maybe at Talbot’s, but I’m not mentally prepared for that). Oh well. I’ve spent too much money on decorating, so I don’t need to buy clothes anyway. Except that it’s 45 degrees right now and all I have is an ugly gray sweater I got in college.

A while back some girls at work and I decided on a style for ourselves (that’s what we really do, instead of editing textbooks). Reluctantly, I choose “classic.” I tried Bohemian once, and nearly considered urban chic, but I am a classic girl. I later added “with a twist” to my classic recipe, just to make myself feel better. But more often then not, the twist gets left behind in favor of a structured jacket and cable-knit sweater.

It turns out the contemporary, urban thing doesn’t work so well in my decorating either. I love, love, love my new apartment and it looks chic with its modern circles, brushed nickel, and clean lines. But I miss my toile! My chintz! My Shabby Chic! I was in Home Goods and had to drag myself away from the Victorian sconces.

I can't take it anymore

Every time I go to the mega-church on Sunday morning, I sit there thinking, Can we have some worship music please? And the Bible would be nice. (Okay, they read from the Bible, but not a whole lot and it’s always out of context.) At one point in yesterday’s service I wondered if the pastor had even said Jesus or Christ. I couldn’t recall. (He mentioned Jesus a few minutes later, which made me feel better). And I sat there thinking, God, you must be here. I know there’s at least two of us here. But it’s still sad and frustrating to wonder, while you’re sitting in church of all places, if God is there. I’ll say again, that I respect the compassion ministries that the church does, their justice work in Asia, and their efforts to reach out to the non-churched. But it’s not a place for me to feed my soul.

Why I Love Females

You don’t realize how much you need girl time until you don’t have it. In all honesty, it’s been an emotional roller coaster for me the past few weeks. I thought perhaps it had to do with Paul, with our relationship. But the only thing that’s changed between us is that I’ve had a lot of contact with women this week. I love women! I also realized that cutting off contact with California was not the answer to making Cincinnati feel like home and close friendships are close no matter where you live.

My adventure for the week was going to a women’s “community group” at the mega-church. All I knew was that it was a big group of women discussing the book Captivating. Six weeks, no commitment. Perfect! Plus, Crossroads has a lot of younger people so I felt there was the potential to meet people my age.

After last night, I was reminded of how wrong my first impressions are. First of all, as much as I cringe at the “coolness” factor of this church, the people make up for it. As soon as I walked through the door, people friendly and saying hi. I was early and found my assigned table and thought I’d have to sit there alone for 15 minutes. But another girl at my table—a single girl my age—came in and we started chatting easily.

But then the rest of the girls showed up…and I became rather skeptical of the evening. Surrounding me was a small group of very pretty, stylish girls my age; the married ones had huge rocks on their fingers. I guessed correctly that the blond girl had been in a sorority (a Tri-Delt of course!). I immediately assumed everyone was snotty. (How very Christian of me.) Then the large group meeting got started. The testimony was followed by a clip from “The Notebook,” and I thought, Oh brother.

Things fell into place as we started our small group discussion. By the end of the two-minute table introductions I had completely changed my mind about these girls. They were all there for the same reason I was—some good female bonding. The sorority girl turned out to be very sweet and outgoing. She went to Indiana with me and her roommate was from California. I hit it off with the girl sitting next to me—she works at home too. And everyone else was equally friendly, encouraging, and sincere. At the end of the night we all commented on how great our group was. I left walking on air. I met Paul at Starbucks and could not stop talking for the next hour because I was so pumped. To be in the presence of women, to feel like you’re understood and you don’t have to explain it, to discuss things at the heart of you…it’s really a priceless and essential time. And now I can relax with Paul this weekend and not have to feel like I’m at a loss as to what to do. At least for the next six weeks.

Street Signs

The other day someone asked me if I missed California. I said, “I miss the people there, but not the state itself.” But there is one thing I really miss—aside from the mountains and Panda Express—the street signs.

Cincinnati is not easy to drive around. Even if I have directions it’s completely stressful. First of all, I’m living in the city, so the roads are narrow. People can park in the right lane, so you have to get over without warning if there’s a car there. And then there’s often no middle lane, so there’s always the risk of having to turn left or right when you don’t want to, which happened to me. Had to turn left and then there was no place to easily turn around and the streets never go through, so I ended upon on 50 West and had to call Paul for help. Anyway, the very worst thing about driving here are the street signs. Why? Because they’re so hard to read! In the city, they don’t hang from the signals, they’re on the street corner, like when there’s a stop sign, only it’s like that everywhere. Who can read that?! I thought the suburbs would be better, but when I went up there on Sunday I found that it’s not much different. They’re on the signals, but they’re on the signals, stuck to them, way up high, and not very big. So whenever I drive, most of the time I can’t read the signs until after I’m already in the lane (or, more often, not in the lane ) I need to be in.

The comfort is that I still my California license plate, so I have an excuse for being a horrible driver. People either give me sympathy, because I’m new, or they just think I’m crazy (because everyone in the Midwest thinks Californians are crazy).

Obsessed!

I pride myself on not being a perfectionist. Unfortunately, this doesn’t apply to decorating. I am obsessed that every detail be just right--but I keep changing my mind about what “just right” is. I’m so exhausted and stressed out! It’s not like I don’t have enough stress in my life.

I was feeling pretty good a week ago. I had 90% of the apartment put together. It seems that the last 10% will take until I move out. Paul and I hung some pictures last night, and I made my third trip to Michael’s (all their frames are 50% off!). Paul was a good boyfriend and did the hanging, and then I sat back obsessing about whether the pictures were too high, were they even, was the room balanced. Paul was like, “No one will notice,” but then he recanted and said, “But YOU will notice, huh?” Yes, I will. And since my office is still in the living room, I will be distracted by the lack of perfection all day long...

My obsession last week was finding baskets to fit under my TV table. I couldn’t find any that were the right height and not $100 (why are baskets so expensive?!). I searched everywhere but to no avail. I was having a hard week and Mom told me I should go shopping to make myself feel better. So, I did. Boy was she right! That perked me right up. I went to Home Goods, my very favorite home store. And they had the perfect baskets. They were like short hampers, with fabric-covered lids, and only $30 each! I re-covered the fabric with fabric that matched my apartment and they look SO cute. (See the picture.)

And now I’m on to obsess about the perfect placement for the dining table...

TIP FOR HANGING LARGE FRAMES OR A SERIES OF PICTURES: This one I got from Martha Stewart years ago and it's really helpful! Cut newspaper (or the like) the size of the picture you want to hang and then tape it up on the wall using painter's tape. Then measure the frame to see where the nail should go, mark it on the piece of paper on the wall, and hammer in a nail. Rip the paper off the wall and hang your picture! This makes it really easy to re-place the picture without holding up a heavy frame (Paul was thankful for this) and making a million holes and marks in the wall.

Mega-churches and Cup Holders

I really hope EV Free doesn’t get cup holders when they revamp the sanctuary. Even though I don’t go there anymore, it will make me sad.

I went to this mega-church (i.e., like Saddleback) in town the last two Sundays. Not because I was really itching to go there, but it’s down the street from me and really easy to blend in. We were greeted by an uber-cool, giant-Starbucks-like, video-monitor-clad atrium. Because we got there late, we snuck into the “sanctuary” (is that what you call it there?), and climbed a few flights of stairs to the top balcony. As I sat there, not really listening to the message since I didn’t hear to start of it, I was fixated on the cup holders. The whole sanctuary was stadium seating, very artsy stage, like being in a theater. But I felt like cup holders were wrong, in some way. Are we going to church to be entertained or to worship God? Not that you can’t worship God with a cup of coffee in your hand (I do it all the time at home). And I do respect what churches like this (Crossroads) and Saddleback are doing—to make people who don’t go to church feel comfortable (people like I used to be), to find a way to get them in the doors. The cup holders just made me a little sad. And I realized the irony of how I’ve become a little of a traditionalist. What brought me to know God was a very un-church-like atmosphere. Some casual people, causal worship, and a causal—yet deep--message. There was nothing more intimidating or uncomfortable than church for me. But now, I like it when they use the silver offering trays, when people dress up, when we sing hymns (albeit with a guitar and not full choir) and there are pews instead of chairs. I guess that speaks in some way to the work that God has bee doing in my heart. He makes me comfortable and I love His house.

I’ll still keep going to Crossroads because it’s there, but I’ll be content when I find a church for church-goers, a church that doesn’t deem itself “for real people,” and one sans cup holders.

First Post!

I've learned, yet again, how uncreative I am (Mom: I'm artistic, but not creative). I started a blog about a month ago, with the clever, I thought, title "California Dreamin'". And then I couldn't remember my login or web address so I just did an eblogger search only to come up with about 500,000 other blogs with the same title. Apparently lifting the title from a well-known song was not the creative genius I had hoped it was. So, I’m going with the simple "Girl Meets Ohio," which was in only in part lifted from the book I’m reading, "Girls Meets God." (Great book by the way. Not cheesy at all, like the title might suggest. I'm going to post a reading list soon.) Anyway, here are my adventures as I meet the beautiful Buckeye State. Stay tuned…