Living alone is awesome. Granted, it hasn't been very long - but so far I love it. Living alone and finally having a place of my own was a part of the 'big adventure of moving forward in life' that I had been waiting so very long for. It just so happens to be in Iowa. And there are reasons that it's so very exciting to me - aside from not having to do my dishes every time I dirty one. I have always centered my home life around my room. Living at 'home', I spent all of my free time in my room - between homework, reading, internet, and talking on the phone it was my little world. In college, most all of my belongings were in my room, and 'shared spaces' weren't relaxing nor usable by me. After college, having housemates didn't change things - only that I no longer had to share my room. So now I finally have my own space, my own living room and couch to relax on, my own kitchen to cook in - everything of my own.
I can leave my dishes in the sink until it's full because I find this more efficient. And I don't have to feel guilty for leaving dirty dishes, and when I decide to do them, it's not that much of a chore because there aren't many and they're all mine. Other chores like vacuuming and sweeping the floors don't seem like a big deal, and make me feel like I'm 'playing house'. I want to vacuum my curtains (they're really dusty), and since I have seven sets of ceiling to floor curtains I can do them when I feel like it and don't have to put the vacuum away in between. I also don't have to make my bed every morning because I never really saw the point in it. And I can leave my knitting right next to the couch for doing a row here and there, as well as my books and anything else I own. All of these little things turn out to be quite fantastic.
I forgot to mention in the last post why my microwave-less kitchen may be of some importance. While I mostly only make the morning oatmeal, I found myself in charge of making popcorn last week for a Friday movie viewing at work. I'm sure you can all see where this is going, and the lesson I have learned is that you shouldn't trust what the internet tells you, and never trust me to make popcorn. I had read that you could pop popcorn in a paper bag with some oil, and so the HR person and myself tried this method since the stove top way wasn't working. She left momentarily to use the restroom, and while I was wrestling with the stove-top popping I noticed a fire had started in the microwave. Panic set in as I didn't know where the fire extinguisher in the kitchen is and knew that moving the fire to the sink wasn't going to work. Plus, my first reaction was to remove the oxygen from around the fire, which is surely both do-able and the most efficient way to stop the fire. The Executive Director (doesn't that make this story so much better?) tells me to take it outside, so I pick up the flaming bag of popcorn (and this is a big bag, because it's the only one I could find), and I toss it on the deck where he proceeds to stomp it out. I was mortified. This was the end of my third week on the job and not only do I fail at making popcorn, but I try to set the kitchen on fire. Thankfully, I was able to come back to work yesterday, and even better no one has really said anything - so there's a possibility that it'll all be forgotten anyway. Therefore, in outfitting my own home with appliances I have decided that I can wait on purchasing a microwave.
Everything (despite the fire) is becoming so adult in my life, and in such a good way. Not only do I love living alone, but I had a fantastic New Years Eve. I felt incredibly grown up and wonderful, wearing a fancy dress and heels, drinking fancy (and very delicious) drinks, and talking with new friends - I couldn't have had a better start to 2012 if I tried. So with all of these grown up things happening around me, it's only fitting that I try to set a kitchen on fire.
In what will now be a traditional closing (weather), we have not had an epic snow, nor has it dropped below zero. I know I am shooting myself in the foot for saying this, but I feel as though I have been lied to. My long underwear are still unused and new, and while it's been cold, it hasn't been shockingly cold. Granted, my California weather patterns taught me that December is the worst of winter, January no one cares, and February brings the spring. It may still be rainy, but December is the coldest and that month has passed. It's only the first week of January, and I know that there are many more months of winter left because I've heard, reliably, that it can snow in April (my new friends seem to think this will squash my Birthday joy) and I have heard, unreliably, that it will snow in July. So should I knock on wood when I still have at least four months of winter left? Nah. I want to try cross country skiing, and I want to skate on real ice lakes. My excitement for snow hasn't even come close to wearing thin.