Flashback Friday: Ambrosius

Last Friday, I did a flashback post about Dusty and I's first home.
This story goes hand-in-hand with that time of our lives, and is a lovely, perfect memory of a weekend.

Britany, Bryce and I were standing outside of CBU's theater.
We had just seen The Taffetas, the theater's most recent musical.
Bryce had been in it, so Brit and I went to watch him and enjoy the show. Dusty would have come with us but he was really sick, so he was cooped up in our apartment getting some rest (playing video games in his pajamas).

An important tidbit of information to this story is that the theater was known for often having a few stray cats around it.
For whatever reason, kitten-sightings were very common around the back-lot bushes of the large building.
I had never actually seen them before, but had heard stories.

While we were standing and talking outside the building, someone (I don't remember who) came over and said they had found a litter of tiny black kittens!
We followed them around the building, and sure enough, there were several little kittens hiding in the shadows.
Brit and I were able to pick two of them up. One was a little squeamish, but the one I ended up holding was extremely chill and just cuddled up to me. My heart melted, because I have a horrible tendency to love and/or want any and every tiny animal.
We walked over to show another friend nearby, and I just stood there holding the little thing until we decided it was time to go.

Just then, we spotted the momma cat and the rest of the kittens running across the lawn!

I freaked out, because I didn't want the little guy that I was holding to be separated from them.
I put him down so that he could join them, but they were already fairly far away and he didn't move a muscle.

I must have had "the look" in my eyes, because both Britany and Bryce told me, in no uncertain terms, that I needed to leave the kitten and walk away.
I was having a horrible internal struggle, that can only be described as distorted motherly intuition.
But, I put the kitten down in the bushes and said goodnight to Brit and Bryce.
They made me swear to leave the kitten there, because surely the mother cat would be back soon. It will be fine, they said. No you cannot keep it, they said.  

I began to walk away, and the most heart-wrenching cry came from those bushes.
I swear, I stood there for a whole minute, trying to force myself not to turn around.
Unable and unwilling to be so callous, I bent down and sat on my legs, trying to peer into the bushes to where I set the kitten down. I reached out my hand and whispered, "C'mere!"

Now, no one else was there that night.
The lawn was empty, the campus was closed, everyone else had wandered home for the night. No one can offer any confirmation or testimonial proof that this happened.

But that kitten sprang out of those bushes like it's tail was on fire, running full out into my arms.

And the rest, folks, is history.

While the walk home was really awkward, trying to come up with what to say to Dusty, it all just came out when I walked in and said, "Um, hi. We may have a problem. A really, really cute problem."

Dusty had always hated cats. He was not a fan. But really. Look at that face!
It was one of the best weekends of our lives.

After a while of intense discussion, we decided to name him Ambrosius.
I should say I decided to name him Ambrosius, from The Labyrinth, a masterful Jim Henson movie starring David Bowie.
Dusty hated the name, (and the movie), but since he knew we couldn't keep this kitten...he decided I could get the name out of my system.

A lot of our time was spent like this.
With a very sad, sick Dusty in the background

Ambrosius played,

And he also loved to sleep.

They made quite a pair.

I've never seen a kitten conk out like Ambrosius.
When he was asleep, he was asleep. 

One time when Brit was over, we lifted up his paws and dropped them while he was sleeping, and he wouldn't even flinch.

Brit and Ambrosius became instant friends, as well.

It was a glorious two days.
Ambrosius would sleep on our pillows, play with the little mini Christmas ornaments from the tree Lauren left with us, and was the smartest, sweetest, most well-behaved kitten I've ever seen.
We knew we couldn't keep him, but we pretended like we could for those two days.
We had no idea where we'd be going for law school, and we would be living with my parents for the summer while we prepared to move to wherever we decided to go.

We found a good home for him, and on Sunday night we met up with our friend to give Ambrosius over.
It was not easy. We had developed a most delightful bond with that little guy.
Getting home that night, to our kitten-less apartment, was a very sad moment.
For weeks afterward, we'd find bright little Christmas bulbs under the couch, in our cushions, and around our mattress. 

Sometimes, even the most short-lived joys are some of the most special moments in our lives.
I remember I had to work or something that Saturday, and Dusty was alone, sick in the apartment. He kept texting me pictures of Ambrosius sleeping against him. It was such an expected little blessing to have little Ambrosius around that weekend.
And, I believe, it paved the way for Dusty to love kittens. :)

Thanks for running to me that night, Ambrosius.

I know you have a new name, a new home, and hopefully you're doing well.
But you'll always be Ambrosius to us. Crazy little angel.

In love,
Cait

Flashback Friday: our first place

Have you ever had those days, nights or moments when you just need to have a good cry?
That's been me. A lot, lately.

I think it's self inflicted, like when my childhood cat died after being with me for ten years and I sat looking through pictures until I was sobbing uncontrollably.
That was one of Dusty's first experiences of me crying. Thanks for sticking with me, babe.

This last week, I cried when Dusty got me coffee one day. I cried watching How I Met Your Mother. I cried at work, at home, in the car....and then I cried when I started looking through old pictures. Like I said, self inflicted.
I think sometimes I get so reminiscent that I just need a good cry. I think Fall brings out the cry in me.
This Fall is particularly hard, because it's the first time we've gone from law school, to summer, and back to law school. The transition has been rough, and I've been homesick for my family and friends in the west. Dusty and I have both been in sort of a funk, coming out of such a great summer. It's been hard to get back to the hard-work stuff.
While I am extremely excited for this year, I need my moment to reminiscent. And maybe cry a little. To remember a  most wondrous time.
This post is going to take us back for a second.

To Dusty and I's first apartment together as a married couple.

December, 2010

The semester was almost over. It was senior year, and we were getting ready to take our finals and head home for the holidays.

But this time, it was different. This time, we'd be getting married. 

When we got back to school for our last semester of college, Dusty and I would be a married couple. We had managed to be an exception to the rule, snatching up an unofficially "married housing" apartment, despite the fact that they had gotten rid of married housing several years prior.

The truth is, Royal Rose was a retirement home.

It was situated in a quaint little corner of campus. It was a part of "Rose Garden", which was a series of student apartments amongst a few more elderly apartments, and lots of cute trails with rose bushes. 

I don't know all of the details, but the school had bought Royal Rose years before, and had offered the residents moving money if they desired. Some took it and relocated, others decided to stay. The extra rooms were given to grad students (and one hall of the first floor was entirely freshmen guys, since there wasn't enough room in the dorms) and other oddballs like us, who went and talked to the right people and begged for a room. It helped that we both had jobs on campus, and had legitimate reasons for needing to stay. 

The rest belonged to the elderly Korean community.

It was going to be a really crazy few weeks.
My best friend and roommate, Lauren, was graduating early and going to be moving to Connecticut to be a fancy nanny for a wealthy family in Greenwich. We had spent the entire first semester in roomie bliss, sharing a room with our friend Alexa and hating our other roommates and watching movies and staying up late and going shopping and realizing that our lives as we knew it were coming to an end.

 It was the best of times.

Those last few days at school before Christmas break, Dusty and I began to frantically move our stuff from our current apartment to our new one in Royal Rose.
I documented everything. I'm pretty glad I did, now.
The tour:

 

Every closet/cupboard area had those awful sliding closet doors that get stuck every time you try to move them. You can see the railing where they used to be attached in this next picture; we took them off for an open pantry!

 

We had plenty of help from our friends.
Jon and Lauren helped us get started, taking the many loads from one apartment to the next. Little bit by little bit.
I distinctly remember trying to ride my bike balancing a bunch of bags and a framed poster.
I fell, crushing the picture and totally hurting myself. I'm really glad no one was there to see that.
After making many more successful trips, we brought some sparkling cider to celebrate!

Looking into the living room from the kitchen.

Visa versa.

The bedroom was small, with more awful closet sliding doors.
We took those off, too. :)
It was quite the challenge, as they're as tall as the ceiling and very difficult to maneuver. Many a popcorn-ceiling-kernel came falling from the sky.

His side.

Her side.

Then came the bathroom.
We never had to be afraid of falling, or of not having a nifty grip when we needed help lifting ourselves off of the comode.

Honestly, this was the best part for us.
Being 22 and living in an apartment equipped for the elderly.

Who else can say they've had a "Pull for Help" string in every room?

This is one of the best memories.
We ordered pizza, had our sparkling cider, and Lauren even gave me a mini Christmas tree and a few of her other things that she couldn't take with her when she moved. It was already becoming our little place.

Me, with the crushed picture behind me and our first holiday decorations.

We also had help from our friends Britany and Bryce, who were able to come over later and see the place and help us move in. :)

"The halls smell like Ramen and our neighbors don't speak English 

but we're really excited and look at our new door!"

 

We had no idea what the next few months would hold, but these guys would be a big part of it.

We knew we were gonna make this place work, and that it would be an adventure, but if we had known what a wonderful last semester it was going to be...we probably would have given that marijuana-smoking dude a few doors down a big ol' hug.

We had a few last things to do, like our last Christmas concert in choir, and all of our finals...but we were ready to go get married. :)

Spring Semester, 2011.

January - May.

When we got back from our amazing wedding,

we had our work cut out for us.

We worked diligently at making the apartment work for all of our stuff, and making it a cozy place to live.

Slowly but surely, it became the place where we all gathered to hang out.

Unlike the other apartments on campus, there wasn't a curfew or "no guys allowed after --- o'clock"! 

We were outside the law. 

Our first dinner party was one of the most exciting things for me. I made beef lettuce wraps, P.F. Chang's style. With the new Chinese cookbook I got for our wedding.

Britany, Brenton and Dusty.

Both Dusty and I worked for Provider, the food service company on campus.
I worked super early mornings (6:30am), first in the campus coffee shop and then in the cafeteria bakery. Dusty usually worked the later shifts, sometimes until 11pm.
He eventually became a supervisor. He was great at his job and they loved him!
He started working at Brisco's, the second cafeteria area that was actually right next door to us, in Rose Garden.
On the nights he worked late, Britany would come over. We'd go to Brisco's to say hi to Dusty, grab some snacks and a smoothie, and go watch movies.
I would love to go back and do that one more time. Or maybe like, 10 or 20 more times.

I have such fond memories of that place.
The movie nights, the dinners, the parties with friends and the late game nights.
I also remember almost dying in that apartment, being so ridiculously sick after we came back from Ireland that I was bed-ridden for a week. It was a magical time.

Here are the facts:
The hallways always smelled like Ramen and fish. Sweet and wrinkled old Korean folks would stare at us as we walked by. A guy a few doors down really did smoke pot quite often. We had no dishwasher. Our oven was really small. We slept on a mattress on the floor. We had no dining room, or anywhere to eat. We had to go downstairs to the first floor to do all our laundry, in a small little laundry room that only had 4 washers and 4 dryers. We had to pay in quarters. There was no central air or central heat, just two wall units, and one didn't work. There was a giant heater in the bathroom ceiling. Which we actually loved. We had this absurd doorbell that sounded like "blick-boooong!" whenever you pressed it.

But also,
I love Ramen. I always craved seafood when I came home. On the nights our neighbor smoked pot, we always had a good night. We laughed a lot. I remember making chocolate croissants all the time in that small little oven, because I watched It's Complicated a lot. We would spend many nights sitting in our living room with the balcony door open, cool air streaming in and happy voices trailing up to us from Brisco's. Dusty always whistled at me when he came home from work late at night. I remember all squishing on the couch and on the floor, eating dinner and talking. I would often prop my laptop up in the bathroom, and watch TV shows while I took a bath, ceiling heater blazing. We watched TV shows and cartoons on our floor-mattress. I remember watching "Sword in the Stone" on our mattress with Britany while the guys played video games in the living room. Bryce always hit the doorbell - "blick!" - and held it as long as possible, before releasing it for the echoing "boooooong!".
And I wouldn't trade those days for anything.

Our First Place:

Welcome! Come on in!

Our open pantry became a shelving unit for wedding memorabilia, pictures, books, baskets, clocks, magazines, knick-knacks and anything else we could think of.

The book and music corner:

 

Our living room...

The crushed picture somehow survived, and hung there happily.

Four of our unused awful closet sliding doors worked as a nifty picture-frame holder for our map.

Our "TIPS" jar: "Cash -- not advice."

Our balcony view:

That back-side of a building that you can barely see beneath the tree's branches is Brisco's.

Our bedroom:

See how nifty we are?
Again, utilizing the awful-closet-sliding-doors to hold pictures as a makeshift headboard.

I morphed my entire side of the bed into my getting-ready zone. Complete with a TV to play Friends while I got ready in the mornings when I didn't have to work.

 The adorable green chest is Lauren's, and she got me these cute knobs for it:

Our bathroom:

The last few days we were in this apartment went way too quickly.
Even now, whenever I smell the specific candle scents we used when we lived there I totally freak out. It's the smell of that home.

I remember not wanting to take anything off of the refrigerator; they were saved-up memories that I didn't want to lose.
I've always been way too sentimental, truly, and a total pack rat.

Britany's card, asking me to be her bridesmaid. My brother and sister-in-law's Christmas card, with my niece Abby still cozy in the womb. Our magnet from Ireland. A silly little "Balderdash" game card that Jon had written when he was completely exhausted, which made absolutely no sense, causing the rest of us to wail in laughter.

"When the pig's little pigs go to get milk from the momma pig" - Jon Jorge

Gah.
Leaving this place was way too hard.
The last time Dusty and I were in that apartment, it was empty. We were bringing the last few bags and boxes with us after choir tour, to drive home for the summer. We would be moving to Virginia in a few months.
I remember, so crystal clear, standing in the hallway and locking the door.
Dusty hit the doorbell button.
"Blick!"...we stood there sniffling, our arms full of stuff, laugh-crying to each other, in a state of shock that the year was over...we were graduated...we were leaving our college, our friends, our first apartment together, never coming back...tears were falling down our cheeks..."boooooong!"

Our first place.

In love,
Cait

P.S. Look forward to a few more "FF"s (Flashback Fridays) in the future. :)