Category: Denver

The lease on our apartment is up the first of September. Even though the place is small, Ben and I had decided some time ago that if the rent increase was minimal we'd stay there for another year. If it went up substantially, we'd move elsewhere. We got our renewal offer the other day and they're raising the rent $77 a month.

Why?

Because they can.

The last thing I want to do is pack everything up again, but we found a very nice place southeast of where we're currently living that makes it worthwhile. For essentially what our increased rent would be, we'd be getting a brand new two bedroom place (we currently have a one bedroom, but want someplace that will accommodate out-of-town guests) that has all our current amenities, is literally a five minute walk from light rail and has hardwood floors.

The complex is about the same distance to Ben's work that our current place is, but it's a bit closer to mine, and will allow me to avoid I-25 entirely on my commute. As I mentioned earlier, it's ridiculously close to a light rail station, and that will make my snow day commutes a breeze.

The only real worry I have is that the unit we want (the one with the hardwood floors) is the last one they currently have available. They have several others with a nearly identical layout—all brand new—but they're on upper floors and are fully carpeted.

Fingers, toes, legs and eyes crossed that it will still be available when we're actually allowed to reserve it…

One year ago Ben and I arrived in Denver, and I still don't know the channel numbers on the TV.

And there are still days I find myself wondering, "What the fuck did we do?"

On one hand, it's hard to believe an entire year has already passed. On the other, I didn't think the milestone would ever get here.

It's been a stressful time for both of us, but we've managed to pull through in one piece.

If you've been reading my posts during the last twelve months, you know I'm not exactly enamored with The Mile High City. I think in part that's because I'm not really emotionally invested in Denver the way I'd been with San Francisco when I moved there all those years ago. From the onset, I've viewed Denver as a temporary situation, just another way-station on the journey of life; something to experience—but not necessarily embrace. And I don't foresee that ever changing.

OBSERVATIONS

Summer. Very mild temperatures and frequent afternoon thunderstorms. Air conditioning is needed, but not 24/7 from May through October the way it was in Phoenix. Also, no matter how warm it gets during the day, once the sun goes down it cools off rapidly—unlike Phoenix where there are days when the temperature never dips below 100.

Our apartment.  Ben finds it small and overpriced—and I have to agree on both counts—but it's a place I look forward to returning to at the end of the day. And despite our building fronting one of the most ill-designed and congested streets in all of Denver, the location is perfect for everything we need. It's also located halfway between our respective workplaces.

Dual left turn lanes. Hey Phoenix, are you listening? While the logic that dictates when the left turn arrows appear at any given intersection still makes no sense to me whatsoever, it's nice to have the dual lanes so at least you aren't sitting through multiple light cycles just to make that turn.

New Photographic Opportunities. Although I haven't gotten out as much as I would've liked to, Denver is a very photogenic city (not as much as San Francisco and the Bay Area, but definitely more than Phoenix), just waiting for further exploration.

Local Restaurants. Dragon Cafe for Chinese (take out and delivery) and Cinzetti's for Italian.

Denver drivers. Do I really need to say more? As I recently tweeted

I'm convinced that 50% of the population is driving stoned, 25% is busy texting, and 15% simply doesn't have a fucking clue where they're going.

Further, people here do not understand the 3 second rule or the concept of proper stopping distance. Without exception, whenever I leave enough room between my car and the one ahead to stop in an emergency, some jackass views that as an open invitation to slip in so he can get to the next stoplight 1 second sooner than he would have otherwise. It's even worse on the freeways.

At first I thought I was just imagining all the craziness I was seeing on a daily basis, but after Ben got back from his recent trip home, I asked him if the drivers here really were worse than in Phoenix. "Oh YES," he said.

The Inability to Keep My Car Clean. I think the record over the last twelve months has been five days. In the winter, even if I don't drive to work and the car stays put in the apartment's parking garage, snow blowing in from the open sides of the building still manages to cover it. In the summer, it's the afternoon thunderstorms that sometimes just spit enough to leave it a mess of dusty splotches. And then there's the whole rain falling out of a clear blue sky thing. Seriously. It happens.

My job. I find it kind of amusing that it's taken me only ten months to surpass the level of disgust with my current employer that it took me seven years to reach with the previous one. With the former, I never really got to the point that I was fed up enough to put myself through the horrible process required to find a new job. With the latter—especially after the events of the past few days—I'm ready to hit it head on, even though I absolutely suck at interviewing.

Things were actually fine at Maison des Autruches until my boss—the I.T. Director—left two months ago. Since then it's been weekly one-on-ones with the distrustful and clueless COO and having to take on responsibilities I have neither the skill set for nor the desire to acquire. And has there been a one penny increase in my remuneration for these added responsibilities? Excuse me while I pick myself up off the floor from laughing so hard.

They've finally hired a replacement I.T. Director who is scheduled to start next Monday, but I'm not hoping for any major changes in the way things aren't done at this company. With any luck our relationship will be brief.

I'm making the last payment on Anderson tomorrow (hard to believe it's been five years already), freeing up a sizable chunk of cash starting next month that—as I've mentioned before—will almost offset the difference between what I was being paid in Phoenix and what I'm being paid here. Perhaps that will help my attitude, but even if it doesn't it takes a bit of the strain off.

Mexican Food. Neither Ben or I believed it when we were told there was no good Mexican food in Denver. I mean, c'mon…there has to be a decent restaurant somewhere. Unfortunately, we've tried several that have gotten good reviews and have come away disappointed. The only one we've found that's even halfway decent is Little Anita's—and that is New Mexico style, still not what we're looking for. 3 Margaritas serves what I found to be the closest to Arizona style Mexican food in Denver, but all their locations are a bit of a drive from home. Recently we tried Hacienda Colorado and found that flavor-wise it was good, but the portions were tiny.

As Rosanne Rosannadana would say, "It's always something."

Beards. If you like hairy beasts, Denver is definitely the place to be. I wondered if I'd see less of them after the weather warmed up, but they appear to be a year-round thing here. Unfortunately, the radiation treatments I went through years ago for my cancer treatment robbed me of the ability to grow anything more than a goatee, so I'm extremely envious of the guys who can. (Like you haven't noticed that from the pix I post.)

My first—and last—beard, August 1992

Snow. After the first couple snowfalls, this would've definitely fallen into the "Do Not Want" category, but once I realized how to avoid driving in the shit, I was more or less fine with it. Granted, by the time spring rolled around this year, I was more than ready to be done with it, but as long as I have access to public transit on snow days, I think I can deal with it for the however long we actually end up staying here.

Residential Architecture. OMG…the houses north and west of the University and along Monaco Street to the east of Colorado Blvd. are gorgeous! If I ever won the lottery, I would definitely snatch up one of those beautiful Tudors or Mid-Century Moderns.

So that's where we stand, one year into this five-year adventure…

…because I have a bumper sticker that warns of the danger of mixing politics and religion.

The epithet was hurled as me by a douchebag this morning in a silver BMW as he pulled off and turned left after riding my ass down Colorado Boulevard on the way to work.

A mile later I saw a squirrel crushed (but not killed) under the wheels of a speeding 4WD, and I thought, "Why couldn't that have been the asshole in the BMW?"

While I was waiting to get on the freeway, a big burly guy on a Harley pulled up in back of me. I could tell he was looking at the bumper sticker (that I've actually had for years) and I thought, "Oh great…another one." But after I got on the freeway, he passed on the left and as he pulled ahead, turned and gave me a thumbs up.

Wow. That made my day.

 

Can someone recommend a good, gay-friendly Primary Care Physician in Denver?

I hate the one who was initially recommended to me by a coworker so much that I haven't been back since the initial visit.

My doctor in Phoenix has been great about renewing my scrips, but I really need to find someone here I can work with.

Surrounded by stupid. Literally.

Even before I got on the freeway, my morning commute consisted of:

• guy in front of me so engrossed in his cell phone conversation that he kept drifting into the adjacent lane (not once, but every couple minutes)
• woman on my left putting on make up—while driving, vanity mirror down
• guy on my right, combing his hair with both hands while driving

When I got to I-25, southbound—the direction I was going of course—it was at a complete standstill. The overhead sign was flashing, "CRASH AT HAMPDEN. EXPECT DELAYS."

A crash? In Denver? Impossible!

Half an hour later, when I finally got to Hampden, there were two cars (minor damage) and a highway patrol cruiser at the side of the road. THIS is what backed up traffic for at least two and a half miles because everyone (all five lanes) apparently had to slow down and look at it. "Ooh are there bloody, mangled bodies in the road? Decapitations? I WANNA SEE!"

And because of this I was late to work. Guess I'll be taking a fifteen minute lunch today.

If that weren't enough, I have yet another meeting scheduled with our absolutely clueless COO this morning…right after we had an I.S. meeting with her yesterday afternoon.

FML.

WARNING: Rant ahead. You may just want to move on.

Someone I didn't know that well on Facebook recently left two comments (as if one wasn't enough to get his point across) that said, "All you do is post angry shit!"

After de-friending him, I posted something on my wall to the effect, "If you're not angry, you're not paying attention to what's going on in the world." But his observation did get me to thinking, and I've since dialed back my postings on Facebook.

This blog, however, is mine, and if I want to bitch and rant and howl at the moon, I will. If you don't like it, you're welcome to stop reading.

Anyhow…

It's been nearly eleven months since Ben and I arrived in Denver, and I've done my best to adjust to it, but I fuckin' hate this place. I'll muddle through for as long as necessary for Ben's sake, but if we had to pack and leave tomorrow, no tears would be shed. There is not one thing about Denver or Colorado that I would miss.

Metaphysically speaking, my energy vibration and Denver's are most definitely out of sync. You know how you sometimes go places and they just don't feel right?  That's me and Denver. I never thought I'd hear myself say it, but I'm really starting to miss Arizona.

I miss being near my family, as dysfunctional as it may be. At this point I even miss seeing Ben's mom. And while lord knows I constantly bitched about it in this blog, I miss my old job. Yeah, I hated the on-call duty and the resounding level of stupidity displayed by the user base, but on the whole I liked the people I worked with in my department; not enough to socialize after hours (it's been a long time since I shared that kind of camaraderie), but I didn't mind spending 8 hours a day with them. And the money was good.

And let's face it: there had to have been something going for it to have kept me there for seven years.

I miss my doctor. A couple years ago I finally found a doctor in Phoenix whom I trusted and admired as much as my old MD in San Francisco, and now that's gone. (I went to a recommended physician here two months ago and hated the guy so much I haven't been back, not even to get the results of the $1200 (!!!) worth of "routine" blood tests they ran.)

The weather in Denver is admittedly beautiful in the summer. Suffering through months of 110 degree temps in Phoenix had become a real drag and our arrival here was a welcome relief. But winter? Now I understand why, after my folks divorced in the 80s and Mom moved back to Wisconsin, she was back in Arizona a year later.

We're paying more than twice what we were in Phoenix for an apartment with the same amenities that is about 100 square feet smaller.

While the streets in Phoenix were bad, in Denver they're horrible. I'm convinced the city and the alignment/repair shops are in collusion to keep them this way. It's the only explanation for the city being pockmarked with 6" deep, unavoidable potholes everywhere.

It's impossible to keep the car looking good more than three or four days in a row. Admittedly minor, I know, but still annoying for someone who likes his car clean.

And don't get me started on Denver drivers. I thought they were bad in Phoenix. Here they are insane.

While I'm making $10K a year less than I was in Phoenix for doing more, work was fine until my boss gave notice a month ago, taking his extensive knowledge and skill set with him. Yesterday the COO asked me if I'd help out the developers (something he used to do) if they're caught in a pinch. I tried to explain to her that I do not possess any development skills, and it would be a waste of everyone's time in that situation. It fell on deaf ears.

I'm a desktop tech, not a developer. I have no desire to be a developer. So honey, if you run into a pinch in an emergency, it's not my issue that you don't have enough staff to cover. You brought me on board for the skill set I possessed; not for one you'd hope I'd learn down the road. HIRE A FUCKING TEMP WHO KNOWS THAT SHIT, YOU CHEAP BASTARDS.

And then the bitch has the nerve last night to email me asking one of the developers and I to order food for the boss's farewell potluck tomorrow. "I'll split the cost with you."

I shot an email back to her this morning that said, "I just registered my car and paid rent. I have no extra money. I'll bring some sort of side dish."

I fuckin' hate this place.

…to losing my Arizona identity entirely.

I took Anderson in for an emissions inspection this morning in preparation for getting Colorado plates. He passed.

I'm taking Monday morning off to go wait in line at the DMV. I can only imagine what a little slice of hell that is going to be. I haven't heard anything good from the natives about it…

Fingers crossed that my personal plate hasn't already been used here. If it has, I have a few backups in mind.

It's been in the 70s and 80s for over a week now and the trees everywhere are in full bloom. Then this happens.

I seriously hate this place.

The roads were clear and no snow was predicted, so I drove to work yesterday; the first time in nearly a week.

What a mistake that was.

While I was sitting there on the I-25 at a complete stop, and not one, but two trains sped past, I realized how much I'd grown to once again enjoy taking public transit to work. (Sixteen years in San Francisco being forced to deal with the MUNI on a daily basis made moving back to Phoenix and having to drive an absolute joy.) Yeah, yeah—I have to get up a half hour earlier and end up getting home a half hour later than if I would if I drove, but it's worth it—even on the days it doesn't snow. There's no stress, no dealing with bullshit like traffic stopping on the freeway for no reason whatsoever, and there's the added perk of  occasionally snapping off photos of attractive strangers.

And also by taking the train and walking from the station to work, I get to see things like this—something I probably would've missed had I driven today:

So yeah…unless I absolutely have to take the car to work (like on those rare days I need to journey south to the Colorado Springs office), I'll be on the bus/train from now on.

I still find it so very odd to see snow covering a pool area. I guess it's just the Southwest/West Coast boy in me…

And I still don't understand why my iPhone camera sometimes takes excellent pictures, and other times they're crap.

Baby it's cold outside…

To clarify my earlier post, I don't mind the cold, or even the snow. It's driving in the damn stuff that I loathe. To that end, I'm going to start taking public transit to work on snow days, even if it takes me twice as long to get there. (One bus to the train, and then one train to work.) It just isn't worth the stress to drive. (I almost didn't get back into my apartment building this afternoon.) Since I brown bag it already, I don't need the car to run out at lunch, and as long as I don't have to go to our Colorado Springs office, this will work out just fine. (I'm reasonably certain that if an emergency arose there on a snow day that required my physical presence, my boss and I would drive down together in his car.)

There are snow people and there are non-snow people. Despite my initial optimism, I am discovering I definitely fall into the latter category. (And to my friend Mark in Duluth, you are more than welcome to go ahead and say, "I told you so!")

That's it. I'm over this shit. Unless things change drastically over the next five years (Ben's obligation to his teaching program) it is very unlikely that Denver is going to be a long-term home. In the meantime I'm either going to have to start taking public transit to work when it snows like this or I trade Anderson in on the four-wheel drive model. Considering the MINI will be paid off in about six months, that isn't going to happen.

The state of Colorado and the City and County of Denver had 24—if not 48—hours notice of the impending "snowpocalypse." The white stuff started falling at 6 pm last night.  So why was I greeted by unplowed roads (including the I-25 freeway) this morning? I almost didn't even make it off our side street onto Colorado Blvd. this morning…

The only reason I actually came into the office instead of attempting to work from home was because my boss was planning on being out today and someone had to set up for a video conference…that was, of course, cancelled.

Having a background in architecture and being more than just a little anal-retentive, I tend to notice things in buildings that others might miss, often prompting a well-deserved, "WTF?"

Our apartment—and the complex of which it is a part—is undeniably full of these…quirks.

Admittedly some of these oddities might be regional, sort of like coin-op car washes in Denver not having a place to actually dry your car after you've washed it. But others are more like "Was the architect on crack?"

Don't get me wrong: I really do like our apartment, but the longer we live here, the more convinced I am that (a) the place was designed by someone fresh out of architectural school, (b) one company built the apartments and a different company built the parking structure, and (c) there was either damn little communication between those two companies, or precious little attention was actually paid to the blueprints during construction.

While our community ostensibly looks like a single structure from the outside, it's actually an amalgamation of six different buildings linked by enclosed catwalks that surround an open-air pool area and  free-standing garage. I realized this multi-building reality one day while trying to figure out the bizarre apartment numbering scheme that on the surface made absolutely no sense.  However, when viewed from an architectural drawing perspective, the numbering did actually make some sense (first number is building, second number is floor, and third/fourth is apartment).

In any case, this "logic" doesn't translate into the real world because the building numbers themselves aren't posted anywhere on the property and there's no directional signage whatsoever. Once inside the property, it feels like one big building, so it's no wonder delivery people are always getting lost. (I submitted a suggestion to the property manager that some signage be installed in the hallways, but considering the place has been around for five plus years already and this has probably been suggested before, I doubt anything will come of it.)

What I don't understand even more than the numbering system is why the supposedly straight-line common hallways have all sorts of weird jogs in them, sometimes of only a few inches.  Some of this can be attributed to structural support columns, but in other cases it looks like someone was asleep at the wheel and realized that things weren't lining up during construction and had to make some last minute design changes.

This propensity for things not lining up is no more apparent than in the parking garage itself. At the top of every ramp, there's a height difference of about three inches where the ramp meets the level area. It's like the beam that spans the width of the ramp from shear wall to outside column was either poured too high or floors on either side were poured too low.  They've gone back and smoothed out the edges with cement, and in all fairness these might be nothing more than really poorly-designed intentional speed bumps, but if they are, they suck.

The north side of the property is about five feet lower than the south.  In order to keep the first floor at "ground level" across the full length of the property, stairs had to be put in the hall somewhere. That's understandable. But wouldn't common sense dictate that you might want the stairs in the apartment building to line up with the stairs in the parking garage?

Ha! Remember, this is Denver, where apparently you aren't supposed to dry your cars after washing them.

Instead of placing the stairs where the higher part of the apartment building floor would line up with the higher part of the parking structure so you could walk directly from the upper part of the garage to the upper part of the apartments, they placed them fifty—that's FIVE ZERO—feet apart, forcing you to first go down a flight of stairs in the garage, and then back up the same distance in the apartment building to get to the same level.  But even that doesn't line up properly, because once you enter the vestibule linking the garage and apartments, there's a ridiculous 6-inch step that shouldn't even be there if everything was designed and built properly. And this is present on every damned floor in the building!

And while we're on the subject of the garage, I have to ask why the entrance to the garage was not put on the main street the complex abuts (that's plowed during snowstorms) instead of on a side street that's never plowed and turns into a solid sheet of ice.

These little WTFs continue inside our apartment. There's the closet in the hallway that's only 6-inches deep (in spite of the flimsy plastic-coated wire shelving that's everywhere in this place, we tend to think of it as a very large medicine cabinet because—surprise, surprise—there isn't one in the bathroom). While at first glance it would appear we had a lot more storage in the kitchen than we had at our place in Phoenix, that's not the case. For some reason (known only to the architect and his god) the shelves on all the lower cabinets are only half the depth of the cabinets. Seriously?

And then there's the electrical stuff.  The bathroom light and fan are on the same circuit. It wouldn't be an issue if the fan didn't sound like a jet taking off.  Yeah, I understand why forcing ventilation to come on whenever the light is turned on will cut down on moisture buildup and mold growth, but I'd still rather have an option to turn it off.  (I'm actually thinking this may be a difference in the electrical code between Arizona and Colorado, so I'm not going to bitch about this too much.)

There's a six-foot long hall that connects the bedroom, bath, and living room/kitchen area that has a ceiling mounted light wired to a 3-way switch on either end of the hall. A 3-way switch for an 6-foot hall. Really? I can literally stretch out my arms (not even all the way) and touch both switches simultaneously. The kitchen however, which could really do with a 3-way switch (one by the entry and one on the other side of the room that connects to the living area) doesn't have one.

I haven't yet figured out exactly what type of heat we have in the apartment and I keep forgetting to ask the leasing agent.  I don't think it's electric because there hasn't been a huge increase in our electric bill since it's gotten cold, whereas our gas bill has been steadily climbing.  But is it direct gas heat or something else?  After taking a good long look in the utility closet, I'm wondering now if it might be some kind of hot water system. While I'm not aware of any heating system that would utilize a domestic water heater as a heat source (I have been out of the architectural business for quite some time), there are a lot of extra pipes coming and going from that tank that I've never seen before.

The general build quality of the place is what you'd expect for an apartment built in 2005. Not horrible, but then again, not great. (Blame Mike Holmes for my critical eye.) With the exception of the walk-in closet in the bedroom (which you can hang meat in if the door's closed and there's no air circulation) the walls are well insulated and we have double-paned windows. The carpet however, is cheap. It should've been replaced before we moved in, but I guess the management figured they could stretch one more lease out of it before having to spend another $500. Thankfully it's only in the living/dining area and bedroom. We're going to cover the filthy mess in the living room with a nice rug as soon as funds allow.

The plus side to all this is that the place is starting to finally feel like home. Despite my commute (I'm simply starting to refer to Colorado Boulevard between the I-25 interchange and our apartment—not bad in the morning but horrific in the afternoon—as "four miles of st00pid"), Ben and I both like the location.  Starbucks, Einstein's, and Heidi's Deli are within a block, there's a Conoco (yeah, yeah, I know, but there are very few options in Denver) station on the corner, Cherry Creek Mall is about ten minutes away, there's an excellent Chinese Delivery nearby and some exciting plans are in place to raze the abandoned University of Colorado medical center campus across the street from us and turn it into an urban shopping/dining district over the next couple years. So yeah, in spite of the quirks we're starting to really like it here.