Never paint with a dry roller, indeed

I went to Ace this morning to get some paint. I'm basically color blind, so I brought in a swatch of fabric and forced the Ace employee to find me a color that matched and/or accented. He picked out Limesickle. I told him the room was 12 x 10 (meaning 2 walls were 10 feet across and 2 were 12 feet across). He told me I needed 2 quarts of paint, which he quickly mixed up for me. Anyone who has painted before or doesn't have a learning disability in spatial relations like me will quickly realize this is not enough paint. So I get halfway through my little adventure, go back to Ace, and discover that I have to buy a gallon of paint (because one more quart wouldn't be enough). As I was painting, I kept thinking of my friend who was forced to helped me paint my bedroom in Miami, who gave wise but repetitive advice: don't paint with a dry roller. Yes yes, I know. But I still ignored it today. Plus I was clearly running out of paint early on so I was trying to make it go really far. After a few sweaty hours of masking and painting I stepped back to admire my handiwork. And... there were big patches of white showing through because I didn't keep the roller wet enough. I hate being wrong.

Ohio wins again

When I was a kid, I used to love watching things bake. I don't know if I actually did this (I assume I did because my memory is freakishly good on a bad day), but I remember sitting in front of the oven watching the things I made bake. My attention span never made it from beginning to end, but I still find something extraordinarily comforting about watching something go from batter to cake, or dough to cookie, or brownie batter to only slightly cooked brownie batter. Plus, it's warm near the oven and it usually smells pretty good. I discovered recently that my oven here in O-H-I-O has a light! I can see into the oven! For the first time since my youthful baking at my parents' house. I'm baking for a bake sale at work. I'm making the Rolo cookies (quelle surprise!) and cupcakes (the same ones my "friend" commented looked like dog poop on a cupcake). Based on his helpful feedback, I went and got some decorative pastry tips today at Sur La Table (my love for that place is big enough for a post of it's own and there wasn't one in PA or FL so score another point for OH) so that I wouldn't be known as the girl that brought dog poop cupcakes to the bake sale. Myself and the kitchen are covered in chocolate frosting due to my manly grip and my generic brand ziplocs that burst at the seams, but all the baked goods have been decorated, individually wrapped, and put to bed. Perhaps I'll take a picture of my next baking project with a new iPhone since I totally don't care that it's a 4S instead of a 5. It's only not a "5" because they used an S instead. Semantics. I will miss the robot voice that says "Droid!" a little bit... I wonder if the iPhone has an app for that.

Just because it's reggae music doesn't mean it's warm outside

Yesterday, I went to the Reggae Run, which is a popular 5K here in Cincinnati. Make no mistake, since moving to Cincinnati, I have not begun running 5Ks. I must maintain some semblance of my old life. You can buy a ticket just to the party, without having to put forth the effort of running uphill through Ault Park. So with your admission to the party, you get access to all the food and drink booths, as well as a freezing cold night of reggae music. All without running the race. I should state though, that we parked really far away and had to walk forever so it was kind of like I did the race. That was what I told myself as I enjoyed fried pickles, avoided goetta, and tasted the other bounties of fair-food that were offered. I was talking to some people who were asking when I moved, where I moved from, etc. and at some point it came up that I had lived in Ohio before. Typically, when people ask where I'm from, I flub around a bit. At this point it is easiest to say Cleveland given my current geographical location. So if you tell someone you're from Cleveland, they ask what part, because most people don't actually live in downtown Cleveland. So then I say Chagrin Falls, but I say it in this way of, oh you've probably never heard of it. The thing is, here, people have heard of it. So here I am in this huge group of people bopping along to reggae music, spilling beer everywhere, and 99% of them are wearing Ohio State sweatshirts, or Cavs hats, or Browns t-shirts and there's a tiny mental shift that occurs where I realize I live in Ohio. Again. And so far, that's not such a bad thing. They have fried pickles here!

Not BW's waffles

I have five or six drafts of posts I've written over the past few weeks that I haven't posted because they haven't made me laugh. That is how I decide what posts to post- they have to make me giggle a little bit, whether because they're actually funny or because they border on absurd. One was about how I house/dogsat for my parents last weekend, had a great dinner with two of my oldest friends (fun because it's them and funny because I spilled margarita mix all over the kitchen floor), almost got my fingers snapped in a mousetrap in the liquor cabinet (funny, but also kind of sad), and got a huge speeding ticket on the way home (so far away from things that make me laugh). I finished my first full week of work, and spent an inordinate amount of time putting tabs on my brand spanking new DSM-IV-TR and arranging books on my bookcases. I'm very important. I have many leather-bound books. You may have heard I live in Cincinnati now and I'm doing a lot of exploring. I went to Findlay Market this morning; it's a lot like West Side Market if you're a NE Ohioer, Reading Terminal Market if you're a Phillyian, etc. etc. I like markets like this because they have a local feel, they're more locally sourced, and it seems like there is one less step between the food and the customer in terms of processing. I wandered by Taste of Belgium, which offered waffles and crepes. They'd been mentioned on Twitter by the coffee shop I like here, Coffee Emporium. I'm totally a secret Twitter stalker- I do not do my fair share of tweeting to balance out the number of tweets I read. There I said it. Anyway, I had coffee in one hand, it was crowded, and I determined I was not going to be able to handle a crepe, but people seemed to be holding the waffles in one hand. Since I'm klutzy and don't balance well, I ordered a waffle. They were made out of dough, not batter! With big chunks of sugar in them. Delicious. I wonder if this is what I was supposed to be getting all these years when Belgian waffles were advertised in hotels at their free continental breakfasts. I demand a refund!

I might be a grown up

I totally thought I was going to have tons of time for blogging. I don't know what I've been doing that I haven't been updating. Perhaps doing things, instead of sitting in front of a computer. First, in answer to the ice cream question: I like United Dairy Farmers mint chocolate chip better. But I wouldn't kick Graeter's out of bed. In other news, I went to Kentucky to see an old friend. Our mutual friend, who we called from the bar in my friend's condo (hello!) said, "I can't believe you two are hanging out together in Kentucky." True story. Three cheers for the tri-state area (SW Ohio, N Kentucky, SE Indiana)! We found a totally cute restaurant in Lexington, called Table Three Ten, which I recommend if you ever find yourself in that area. I came back on Sunday, and made my grandfather's spaghetti sauce and meatballs and a batch of Rolo cookies, ready to be baked as needed. Monday brought the first day of work. More specifically, Monday brought the first day of work orientation, which included among other informative activities, putting out a virtual fire with a laser-tag-like-fire extinguisher. It was hard to hold the fire extinguisher. I kind of bobbled it. I would not be good in a real fire situation. I finally passed all the things that needed to be passed, and I found my office. It's fancy. It has a window, and a cabinet full of toys. It is totally delicious to finally have a real office and be a real psychologist. It makes all the drudgery learning and growth experiences worth it. I think I'll celebrate with some ice cream.

On the grid

Ohio driving law written test? Passed for the second time in my life. Drivers license with a photo twelve shades of orange? Check. Registration? Check. Title transfer? Check. Bucolic farm scene license plates? Check. Mildly frustrating day dealing with state government and driving all over the place to get these things accomplished? Check! I rewarded myself with an afternoon nap (delicious), a sweaty power yoga class, and a taste test of Cincinnati ice creams: Will Graeter's or United Dairy Farmers win the Mint Chocolate Chip Challenge? Only time will tell. I can't eat and type at the same time.

I am moved

I drove on Thursday. It's a boring drive. Lots of cornfields. It rained a lot.

The movers arrived on Friday morning. I have never seen such a flagrant waste of paper in my life.

My parents arrived on Friday afternoon. I have been kept busy all weekend with shopping, cleaning, decorating, eating lobster, and trips to Costco, Ikea, and Jungle Jim's.

My parents just left and now as I sit in the absolute quiet with only the tapping of my keyboard on stolen wireless (because the cable installation specialist hasn't arrived yet), all of the FEELINGS that have been kept at bay since March or last week or some time in between are finding their way out. There's most definitely excitement. But there's also a hefty dash of oh-my-god-what-did-i-just-do causing flip flops in my stomach. Although I suppose that could also be easily attributable to the Skyline chili for lunch. It's an interesting thing to start a life somewhere. There's a lot of activity involved. All those foundational things like finding a place to live and moving into it, and then the next layer of stocking it and decorating it and making it feel like a home, and then the next layer of finding your favorite grocery and local coffeeshop and take out sushi. Incidentally, there are three sushi restaurants within spitting distance which makes me think I did an excellent job of choosing this condo/apartment. I found a book club to join, which I'm excited about. The first meeting is in about 2 weeks or so and the organizer welcomed me even if I didn't finish the book in time. I refrained from telling her my dance card was not quite full yet and I had plenty of time to read. I shouldn't say that - I have some exciting plans this week so far: lunch with my friend who lives here, a pre-employment meeting, and hold onto your hats... a trip to the DMV! There's a rumor I have to re-take the Ohio driving exam. Let's hope I can pass it on the first try this time.