Potterpizzaversary!

Background
Two years ago, on the July 4th weekend, we drove for two days in a Uhaul to move Aine and all her things up to Illinois. We arrived on Church street late the second day, unloaded the truck, and set up house. Exhausted, we didn't feel like cooking dinner and didn't know the local restaurants well enough to order carry out. We bought a frozen pizza and ate it while watching a comfort movie, one of the Harry Potters.

One year ago, on the July 4th weekend, I moved up to join Aine in Illinois. We drove a Uhaul for two days and late the second day, we unloaded the truck, this time doubling the amount of stuff in the 500 square foot Church street apartment. Exhausted from the weekend's activities, we decided to celebrate the successful completion of the move by cooking a frozen pizza and watching Harry Potter.

This year, we decided to mark the one year anniversary of my move and the two year anniversary of her move with a Potter and Pizza Night.

I asked Aine, do you want to get another frozen pizza or make our own, hoping she would opt for the frozen pizza. She said, let's make our own!

Homemade 'Za
We wanted to do this right, so we bought a pizza stone to have that authentic brick oven experience. I used the pizza dough recipe that came in the Oster Recipe Booklet and used whole wheat flour.

Taste of Home had a good pizza sauce recipe that I mostly followed. I omitted the fennel seed and cooked it for ten minutes instead of an hour and it produced a very tasty sauce.

Il Recipe:

• 2x 15 oz cans tomato sauce
• 12 oz can tomato paste
• 1 tbl Italian seasoning
• 1 tbl dried oregano
• 1 tsp onion powder
• 1 tsp garlic powder
• .5 tsp salt

We wanted different toppings on our respective halves. I wanted the traditional pepperoni and jalapenos. Aine preferred mushrooms, savoy spinach, and feta.

While I chopped the veggies, Aine, a pizza-making veteran from her Sewanee days, rolled the dough.

Crankles stood guard.

After we assembled the pizza,

we put it in the oven (400 degrees for 15 minutes). Here's how it came out:

Homemade pizza on a whole wheat crust. Our third annual Potter and Pizza Night was a success.

Grad to the Bone 
Earlier that day, a courier arrived with paper proof of Aine's hard work and tireless scholarship. She now has her long awaited diploma for a Master of Arts in Classics.

Done and Done.

We found a sub-leasee. She has a job and a vehicle. And she signed the paperwork with Aine this afternoon.

The road was long and grueling. We had a guy that wanted to look at it twice before going with another apartment. We had two people set up a time to see it and never showed. We had Eviction Guy, whose bright friend walked into the only other room besides the living room in a  five hundred square foot apartment and ask, "is this the bedroom?" We had one guy who couldn't find the unit, so he knocked on the door of both neighboring units before going to downstairs to knock on doors down there. It's been a hoot.
If anyone might be in the market for a sub-lease, here are a few pointers:

• Show up when you say you will.
• Don't ask for a ride. You unconscionable deadbeat.
• If you think you might forget it, write down the unit number of the apartment.
• If the add says they are looking for someone to take the apartment for the full year, don't show up, tour the facility, and say, "I like it, but I only need it until December."
• Don't respond with an email that says: "I need the place for two weeks. Is it furnished? Is there internet?" You unbelievable scumbag.
• Don't set up a time to see the apartment, then when the current tenant sends you a confirmation email the morning of, wait two days to respond with, "Hey, I just got home from work and didn't see your email..." You aren't a fireman. You weren't at work for two days.
• Bathe. Why is this even an issue?
• Wear clothes that don't smell. This is a business transaction.
• Most importantly: if you have any questions, re-read the ad before asking them. Your question has already been answered.

That's all. 

Ainers and I would like to express our heartfelt appreciation to University Group for their hospitality and generosity during our first month in Champaign. 

God have mercy on your unethical, slumlording souls.

Living Here Is Such a Hessel

After such a long stretch of Apartment Living in Austin, this new place is taking some adjustment. I don't hear horns or sirens or trucks on the freeway at night. I have no neighbors screaming in the parking lot or blasting loud Norteño from parked cars. No one seems to have any e-drums. When I walk the dog down my quiet street to the nature trail, I have to endure the cacophony of chirping birds and buzzing chicharras.

I can learn to live with that, but when it comes to maintenance, these bastards have gone too far.

At Summit Creek, you get a wild rush of adrenaline any time you place a maintenance request. Maybe they would come in two days. Maybe two weeks. Maybe never. When the most recent parolee new-hire arrives,  cloud of body odor billowing into your open apartment door, you have a fifty percent chance they will actually fix the issue in a satisfactory manner. You feel like you're living life on the edge.

At this place, the clean cut maintenance crew arrives with two days of placing the maintenance request. They look like they've bathed. They fix the problem. The first time around. Then, later that day, the apartment manager has the gall to give you a follow-up call to see if the issue is addressed to your satisfaction.

Not only that, but you know that move-in checklist they give you? The one where you mark every little ding and loose knob you can find so they don't snatch the deposit from your desperate fingers at move-out time? Most places drop it in the bottom of a drawer and make some benign, placatory remark as they shoo you out the door. Then they never look at it again. At this place, they create a maintenance request to cover everything you mark after discussing it with you in detail.

Then ensues the painful cycle of satisfactory maintenance and follow up calls.

Ainers mentioned she now feels like we are really demanding tenants. We are racked guilt because we have responsive apartment management. We can't live like this.

Midway Upon Life's Journey

So, here's a tour of the new place. It's not as good as the old tour, but it will do. We just cleaned (mostly) and hung some pictures.

Look:

Also, I didn't get a shot of the wall over the kitchen island, so look:

Update 7/30/12

From Dad: "Correction to your tour.  The picture is of Al Capone, a famous/notorious Chicago businessman/gangster.  He was responsible for the St Valentines Day massacre and a few other Prohibition capers.  He died in San Quentin prison of syphillis.  You should have more respect for such a distinguished Illinois citizen."

Happy One Month!

So, we've been married for a whole month today and living in Illinois for one week. I haven't noticed a difference in married life vs. being engaged, but the differences between Austin and Champaign are striking.

Here are some examples:

In Austin, you can buy beer in a Target. In Champaign, you can't buy beer in a Target, but you can buy liquor at the grocery store.

In Austin, rent is figured for two people per bedroom. In Champaign, it's figured for one person per bedroom. You have two people living in a one bedroom apartment and the rent increases.

Austin is a dog friendly town. In Champaign, there are no dog friendly apartments.

Let me tell you a story:

This apartment building used to be owned by Barr Real Estate. They allowed dogs under certain circumstances and were generally lenient about their no dog policy. This spring, University Group bought the property from Barr Real Estate.

We moved up here and spent the first week unpacking and getting our lives back in order, planning to go discuss lease stuff (adding me, adding an additional pet, etc.) this week. Saturday, Chuck, the burnout hippie maintenance man, stopped me. Chuck, according to his story, lost his job as maintenance man when the property sold, but was rehired by University Group. It's his job to keep the place clean, do the yardwork, and make sure people are following the rules: pets, noise, parking, etc.

He said, you're not supposed to have dogs here without permission from University Group. He said there are other dogs in the complex, but you have to get them to add special permission to your lease. I have to go up to the office on Monday and I'll talk to them.

Figuring it was best to head Cheech off at the pass, we went that day to discuss the lease. They were too busy to discuss the situation, so we went back for a meeting today.

I learned these interesting tidbits:

1. Chuck doesn't work for University Group. He's just a crazy old bastard that sweeps the front walk and spies on neighbors for free.

2. There are no exceptions to the No Dog policy. In fact, they told us, since there are rumors of other dogs on the property, we're going today to do a unit by unit sweep to look for unauthorized pets.

3. Honesty is not the best policy.

4. We have to look for a new place to live as soon as possible and find someone to watch our dog until we find a place. Since dog friendly apartments are very nearly nonexistent in this town, we have to find a house or a duplex. However, there don't seem to be any in decent parts of town. Most of the ones we've found are either strictly Section 8, Section 8 friendly, or not Section 8, but in neighborhoods I don't feel safe driving through.

So that's our One Month Anniversary present from University Group. My foes I do repute them, every one. Me cago en la leche de sus madres.

G Unit

So we made a quick video tour of the apartment now that it's no longer a disaster area. Enjoy.

They're really called Suckers!

I thumbed through my Trees of Illinois book as I sat outside, enjoying my morning coffee. I feel fairly confident about the Sugar Elms, but I'm beside myself about the Eastern White Pine. I'm just not sure. While perusing the lengthy and informative introduction (hoping to hone my arboreal skills), I came across this picture. Forgive the cell phone pic, I still haven't found the camera after the move:

AT&T Update!

Yesterday I got the 64th email from AT&T. It sounded very excited. It said my installation day was coming soon and gave me the information I needed about the installation, and told me a technician would come to my house between 8am and 8pm. I responded  that the email was in error, I had already cancelled the order. I assumed the email was generated by some complex AT&T algorithm and that it signified nothing.

Then I got a call this morning. The very nice lady said she received the email. She said she couldn't find any record of cancellation for the U-Verse order. Then she wanted a lengthy description of my discontent with AT&T service. She told me she couldn't actually cancel the order for me, but she could connect me with someone who could. On hold. Scratchy 80s Jazz. A Ms. Cook answered and cancelled my U-Verse order with a cheerful celerity. What about the phone, I asked. Ms. Cook couldn't cancel the phone, only the U-Verse, but she could connect me to someone who could. On hold. Classical Music. Forty five second loop. Some guy answered: It's a wonderful day at AT&T, how can I assist you? Super. He was able to verify that my home phone order had indeed been cancelled. So we're squared away on the AT&T. I think.

The trees are all the wrong size here...

They are large and terrifying. Not a single live oak, ashe juniper, or loblolly in sight. In fact, most of the flora and fauna of this strange land look alien and bizarre. I bought a book: Trees of Illinois by Ms. Linda Kershaw. I feel fairly certain we have two Sugar Elms and one White Pine growing near our balcony. I'll try to learn the local trees and post pictures soon. 

As soon as we get our lives in order. The apartment currently looks like Galveston after the 1900 storm.

Aine and I picked up another book during our latest trek to Barnes and Noble. Haunting Illinois: A Tourist's Guide to the Weird & Wild Places of the Prairie State by Mr. Michael Kleen. Hopefully, I'll have something to report on this soon.

I intend for this blog to be a rough sketch of the adventures of a Texas boy among the Illinoiances and Corn Fields. This next bit, though, isn't specific to Illinois: it's of a more universal nature, but still pertinent to the move.

We wanted to set up super duper high speed internet so Aine could watch reruns of Dawson's Creek on Netflix Streaming while I move PDFs around all day. We chose AT&T because they are a good, old-fashioned American company like Coca Cola or Ford and we're as patriotic as the next couple. Also, we already had cell phones with AT&T (formerly Cingular, formerly Houston Wireless) and thought it would be swell to have everything on one bill. Little did we suspect, it was all bullshit.

The timeline runs thusly:

1. We spend some time online, choosing the perfect build-your-own-bundle-phone-and-internet-package for us. We place the order and sit back satisfied that we have made positive changes in our lives. We choose Self Installation so we wouldn't have to wait during a twelve hour window for some mouth breather to come and plug the cord into the wall for us.

2. I get an email informing me that the technician would come to sometime between 8am and 8pm on July 5th to install the phone for us. I get an additional email offering condolences that, for reasons too clandestine to explain over insecure connections, we would not be able to combine the bills. We would receive one for cell phones and a second for home phone and internet.

3. I call AT&T. Let me tell you about calling AT&T. You spend fifteen minutes entering your account information into a touch tone phone and navigating verbal menus so they can decide the best way to service you. Then you hold for an additional twenty minutes. The best hold music they can find is a forty five second loop. You start to get twitchy. The government should contract to AT&T to interrogate detainees at Guantanamo. When you finally hear a human voice again, they ask you for your account information and how can we help you today. You give them the information (again) and explain in explicit detail the nature of your query. They decide they can't help you and maybe they should transfer you to a different department. Twenty more minutes on hold. Forty five second loop. Twitches. The second department answers the phone. They ask you for your account information and how can we help you today.

4. The guy tells me the bills can't be combined because the cell phones and home phone/internet are based in two different regions. Fine. He says a technician has to come out for the home phone because he just has to, you know? That's the way it's done. Also, the internet can't be activated until after the technician has personally tested our phone lines. Fine. He assures me the technician will come sometime between 8am and 8pm on July 6th. I tell him we would be on the road and he moved the date back to the 9th with Internet set to be activated (and the $100 dollar internet box to be delivered on) the 12th. Fine.

5. In the meantime, I get 27 different emails from AT&T about my new services.

6. The night of the 8th. I get a phone call from a strange number. Hi, he says, I'm from AT&T with an issue on your order. Give me your account information and four digit pin so I can tell you what the issue is. I say, hells nah, bro, you called me. You'll get my personal information when you pry it from my cold, dead fingers. He says fine, call back at our 1800 number.

7. I call AT&T. See #3.

8. The girl tells me the due date on our service request has been set to December 31, 2036 and is that correct. No, I say, can you fix it? She says, yes. Super, I say, the guy for the phone is coming out tomorrow and the box and internet are Thursday? She says, yes. Awesome blossom.

9. Monday the 9th. I get up before 8am, ready for a technician to install my phone line. And I wait. And I wait. By 6:30pm, the aforementioned technician still hasn't arrived. I call AT&T. See #3. Twitches.

10. I ask the young lady that finally answers, is the guy still coming or what? She says, no. I say, no? She says, no. She says, it looks like the request for phone service was cancelled on the 5th. I say, what can you do about it? She says, nothing, I'm in Santa Fe, New Mexico. You'll have to call tomorrow. Thanks.

11. Tuesday the 10th. I check the (now) 42 emails from AT&T regarding my new services. Nothing about cancelled phone. I did get a shipping confirmation for my $100 box that I need to hook up internet. Complete with UPS tracking number. Intrigued, I go to UPS to track the package. Delivered. July 5th. To somewhere in Savoy, Illinois.

12. I call AT&T. See #3. Full body twitches.

13. The fourth person I speak to works for Sales. He is happy to resend the $100 box. He'll just fix the problem of the address and all will be well. Super. Can you help me with this phone issue? No, that's Customer Service. I'll connect you. He hangs up on me.

13. I call AT&T again. See #3. Writhing on the floor.

14. The second person I speak to is very sorry to hear about my difficulties and wants to make everything right. He can reinstate my phone request and send someone out on Wednesday between 8am and 8pm. Fantastic. Where are you sending the aforementioned technician, I ask. Savoy, he says. I'm not in Savoy: the guy in Sales said he fixed the address. No, he says, it looks like the guy in Sales only changed the shipping address, not the service request address. Can you fix it? I ask. No, he says, I'll have to transfer you to Sales. And they can fix it? I ask. No, he says, they will have to completely cancel all your orders and create new orders for phone and internet, let me transfer you.

15. On hold for 15 minutes. Forty five second loop. Calm and lucid.

16. The girl that answers actually sounds hurt when I tell her I want to cancel all services.

She Played Tambourine with a Silver Jingle

...played as I crossed over the Missouri border. At least, I felt sure I had entered Missouri. The American Family Radio station that carried me through Northeastern Oklahoma had long since faded and the highways had letters for names instead of numbers. As a Texan, I'm deeply suspicious of borders not clearly marked with a body of water. 

Getting out of Oklahoma turned out to be an awkward situation. Despite the recent advances in modern technology, the turnpike toll booths had woefully obsolete equipment. You can buy Google Glasses but you can't pay at a toll booth with a check card. The old man working that booth said he'd take care of it. Said do something nice for someone today. So when we arrived in Champaign, I carried all the heavy boxes and gave Ainers the light ones. I thought that was pretty nice of me.

Eastern Missouri doesn't have much going on besides the most beautiful wooded rolling hills I've ever seen. Like Loop 360 without all the mansions. And bigger hills. And lasting for hours instead of 15 minutes. After you cross over the Mississippi River into Illinois, the terrain flattens almost immediately. And stays flat for the rest of the drive. At least Illinois has some proper borders.

Mark Twain said:
"The river below St. Louis has been described time and again, and it is the least interesting part. One can sit on the pilot-house for a few hours and watch the low shores, the ungainly trees and the democratic buzzards, and then one might as well go to bed."

That's the part of the Mississippi we crossed. I didn't get to see much of Ol' Man River, though, occupied by maintaining a visual on the speeding Yaris weaving through traffic.

After passing several thousand acres of standing corn, we arrived home in Champaign, Illinois. Then we unloaded the truck for two hours in triple digit heat.