Taking the Scenic Route

Until about three weeks ago I was a happy little college student pursuing my B.S. in Biology, hoping to transfer all that knowledge to a DVM (veterinary) program elsewhere.

Now, not so much.

Working full time during the day requires me to take night classes. Due to the complete lack of Biology-related courses offered in the evening, I had to find another program that DID offer classes in the evening. To be fair, to say that earning the Bio degree would have been entirely impossible is deceiving since my employer was willing to work with me and let me take some day classes. However, sticking with the Bio program meant having to attend classes until my mid thirties, just for the B.S degree. Yeah, I’m still in my 20’s. I don’t THINK so, Joe – next idea, please.

Those who know me well often throw some well-deserved ribbing my way for having changed my major three times while in the associates program. Now I have to change again, which I’m sure won’t be a real shock to anyone, but this time it’s for reasons outside of my own flakiness and that kinda sucks. I don’t want to change, but if I’m going to be a student for the next seven years, you’d better be calling me “Doctor” by the time I’m done with all of it. Know what I mean, Vern?

Resigned to my fate, I scoured the Schedule of Classes for degree programs that were a little more “9-to-5” friendly. With my choices limited to Business Management, Psychology, and Political Science, (none of them provoking any stirring interest out of me), I paused to consider. Business Management was a no-go because, as I stated in an earlier posting, I refuse to take accounting classes when QuickBooks will suffice and I’m betting that any economics classes will just cause me to cry over my shriveling 401k. That’s just a poor use of my time. Psychology seemed like a reasonable, even interesting, possibility, but then my thoughts turned to my poor friend and fellow student, AC. She transferred to Mason as a Junior like I did this fall. She is a psych major, has had half her classes this semester run by TA’s (teaching assistants), and is suffering miserably. I don’t think I could survive studying the mind and mental processes while being taught by nitwits. Well, I could, but I would probably be kindly asked to leave the campus after attempting to set some nitwits straight.

So a B.A. in Political Science it is or, as it’s called at George Mason University, “Government and International Politics.” Ugh. Sigh. I remember once saying to myself, “there is no WAY I’d ever be interested in Political Science…BORING!” Unfortunately, I still feel that way. At this point it’s all about getting that stupid piece of paper (degree) so I can move on to something else. However, there are a couple of cool things about the GAIP program. First, T-man is in the same program and has already taken some of the classes. Now I won’t have to go to class all the time and he can just fill me in on what I missed. Next, it will require absolutely zero brainwork out of me – just the use of my already fine-tuned bullshitting skills. It will also give me a chance to vent at the end of a crappy work day when I argue, I mean, debate topics with others. Plus I got to drop organic chem., which was sucking like a kitty on a titty. No hard feelings there.

It won’t be so bad, I guess. As T-man puts it, when presented with a less than appealing food choice, “it’ll make a turd.” The worst part about the part about B.A. over a B.S. (besides its credibility, or lack thereof - *sigh*) is the additional foreign language requirement. Damn! I guess I’ll just take French since I already wasted three years on it in high school. And I was SO close to forgetting all of it, too.

Does this mean I’m derailed off the beaten path to veterinary school? Not necessarily. Prospective students can major in anything they want, provided they take the appropriate prerequisite classes which I can do later at NOVA if I want. In finding a silver lining to this raw deal, this allows me to accomplish roughly the same goal, but in a much less stressful manner. And who knows, maybe I’ll abandon the vet school idea and run for public office. Tippecanoe and Simmons, too. Yeah? Whatever.

Oh well. At least I won’t have to wear those ugly laboratory goggles that put funny lines on my forehead anymore. Woo hoo!!

Wanted: A New Home

Sometime back in the middle of September T-man and I decided that we weren't busy enough with school and work, so we decided to break the bonds of indentured renting and look for a place to call our own. Since the values of homes in our area have taken a steep dive, we figured now would be a great time to make the move, no pun intended.

We thought this would be really easy, like shopping for a car, only bigger. Seems the same, right? You find what you want, you haggle for the price, deal with the financing, purchase an insurance policy, grab the keys and you're off! Well, our experience with this process thus far has blown that perception to bloody smithereens. It now takes up every moment of free time and gives me something about which I can obsess (which I do...a lot). Good thing I dropped organic chemistry, but that's another post for another time.

I should preface the following by saying that our experience is probably no more terrible than what the average first-time home buyer faces, but since it’s our drama (and oh my God do I hate drama!!), I can go ahead and compare this to the proverbial pain of a root canal (which, knock on wood, I have also yet to experience). I daresay this is one of the worst processes in the whole world!! [Hey, it’s my drama.]

What we have found so far is the bulk of the homes on the market right now are foreclosures and the people upon which the bank foreclosed were NOT in good moods when they vacated their respective premises. In short, most of them are trashed so badly that it's hard to imagine them as vessels one would call "home." We’ve seen properties that smell like human waste throughout, have completely water logged basements, have been stripped of anything and everything of any value (a la “Fun with Dick and Jane”), and have been basically used and abused, nay, tortured by their previous owners. It has been quite a challenge to find a property we like that has the right location, sufficient space, and the added value of not making me toss cookies when I step through the door.

But lo and behold! We found the property of our dreams a couple of weeks ago and put down an offer on it. As is always the case with my luck (I'd have no luck were it not for bad luck), we didn't get the house. Someone snuck in 10 minutes behind us and outbid us. *Cue in Debbie Downer music.

What surprised me the most about losing the house was my reaction to actually losing the house. I’m not much of a crier, but I cried. I took it very personally for some reason. I started assessing my self-worth and felt like a big loser. Hell, I even started counting Karma points wondering if we would have gotten the property if only I’d let “that guy” merge in front of me on the road. For some reason, my psyche decided to deal with this situation cosmically and emotionally rather than logically, basically letting the “chick” side of me take over which, of course, made me even more upset when I realized that. I was a wreck. T-man dealt with the whole thing quite well, unsurprisingly. Like water off a duck’s back he just became more determined to find something else.

However, that was a huge problem. We found nothing that we liked as much as the first property. Not even close, at least not in the areas we were looking to buy. That's when T-man started digging up listings from Stafford County. Uh-oh, he’s desperate, I thought, time for an intervention.

Stafford County is located just south of Marine Corps Base Quantico or approx. 40 miles south of DC. Since we both could spit loogies into DC from our respective work places, we needed to have a little chat about the commute and the general quality of life that goes along with living in Stafford County. Not to get into too much detail, but the traffic really sucks in the DC metro area. All major arteries into/out of the District become parking lots (and potentially the birth place of many premeditated crimes borne from the DC commuter’s frustration with trying to get to work every day). The very first day of my current job I made the very same commute (I used to live in that area before I met T-man). It took me three hours - in one direction. I said, "what did I get myself into?" There are some really great commuting options, though, so it's not all bad. Upon hearing my full disclosure, T-man was still on board with Stafford, lured in by the "more bang for your buck" factor. Can't say I blame him - it really is a difference what 20 miles makes.

After looking at listings in different areas of Stafford County, we stumbled upon one that was absolutely awesome. I don't want to say too much about it right now, lest I jinx our chances (I'm still not ruling out the Karma factor!), but suffice it to say the deck on the house affords this view:



I'll share more when I have more to share. Stay tuned.