Jen Russum

Thankful for Tears and Tow Trucks

Thankful for Tears and Tow Trucks

Recently something that happened to me that I never want to experience again in my life - my car got towed. It was horrible. Besides the fact that it is expensive and inconvenient, there is something about getting your car towed that makes you feel vulnerable. Someone just takes one of the most expensive possessions you own away from you and leaves you stranded no matter where, no matter what time of day, regardless of if you have someone with you, with no concern as to whether you are safe or have your cell phone on you. It is an awful feeling to say the least. Thankfully for me (I guess I can find a few things to be thankful about in this situation...), my car was towed from ASU's campus, it was the middle of the day, and I did have my phone on me. So here's the deal. I have a problem of being late to school. Not late so much as lacking enough time to get from my parking spot on the far northeast corner of campus to my class on the far southwest corner of campus. We are talking a 20+ minute walk here. So if I don't arrive to school at least twenty minutes early, I will be late to class. To avoid it, I often end up parking close to class and paying at a meter. Let's just say I have spent quite a few extra dollars in quarters in addtion to the stupid $400+ I spent on a parking pass. At least they let me go to school for free... because I will be giving them thousands in parking money by the time this degree is finished. Anyway, this particular day was the last day of class for the semester, which is usually a very happy day until SWAT towing gets involved. I was late as usual, but I knew class would be UBER short. We basically just had to fill out our evaluations and go. I looked for one of my usual meter spots, but apparently EVERYONE decided to attend their classes on the last day and there were no open spots to be found. Knowing I would be inside for such a short time I thought "I know! I will just park in this spot at Chili's, run to class, fill out my evaluation, order Chili's for lunch and come back over and pick it up." I thought I was a genius - getting to class on time AND grabbing delish enchilada soup for lunch on my way to work - until I walked back over to Chili's thirty minutes later and my car was gone. Here I was - semester completed, enchilada soup in hand, and no Mazda 3 anywhere. Those jerks. I called the towing company crying and told them I was a paying customer, holding a bag full of Chili's food at that very moment! They curtly infomred me that even if I leave the premises for a minute, my car can be towed. Awesome. They didn't actually know if my car was on its way to their impound yard, because their scanner was down, but they kindly informed me that it probably was since they "tow cars from the ASU Chili's ALL the time." And apparently I missed reading this little sign (okay, it's a pretty big sign but it was definitely on the other side of the building, a good forty yards away from where I parked)... At this point I had a little breakdown, not because my car was gone or I felt unsafe or anything, but because I had a moment of loneliness. I called Micah who was at work and he didn't answer. I knew the chances of him being able to leave work to get me were slim anyway. Then I sat down on the curb and felt sorry for myself. If I had been in Seattle or Fort Worth I would have been able to think of a zillion friends or family members to call and pick me up (or at least ten), but here I was in Phoenix and I felt like I had nobody. I mean we have been meeting people and all that, but I sat there and thought, "Who do I know well enough that could come pick me up right now?" I pictured myself sitting at ASU all day long. However, I called the coffee shop where I work (owned and operated by our church - it's awesome) to tell them I would be late to work if I even got there at all and within minutes my pastor's wife, Lisa, was calling me. "Hi. Heard you are having a bad day. I'm coming to get you." What an amazing woman. Within twenty minutes, Lisa was pulling up in front of Chili's, taking me to good ol' SWAT and teaching me how to evade camera speeding tickets on the way there (not that she was actually speeding - she was just telling me funny stories to cheer me up). SWAT was so shady/amazing (people behind tinted glass that you can't even see as you hand $135 to them for babysitting your car for one hour) that Lisa and I considered going into business. We figured we have much better phone personalities than the rude woman who answered the phone when I called (We're thinking something like... "Hello! It will be $135 to retrieve your car. Please don't forget cash. See you soon! Hopefully...or the price will increase $25 per hour. Bye!), and our husbands could drive the truck around together. Within an hour, I was driving away in Cori the Mazda after thanking my sweet friend Lisa. I realized that God really is blessing us with amazing new friends in Phoenix, and I have an awful shoe polish tag from the towing company on my windshield to keep reminding me of God's goodness day after day...at least until I figure out how to wash it off. ... Read more

Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

Apartment life is interesting. I guess this is my third apartment stint in my lifetime. In 5th grade, my family lived in an apartment in South Everett for six months while we were building our new house in Lake Stevens. Can you say ghetto? We lived about a block from Mariner High School, and I'm pretty sure I learned all the swear words I know (but try not to use) from the other kids around the complex during that time. My second apartment stay was during my sophomore year of college. I lived in the darkest, dingiest (is that even a word?) apartment with three other girlfriends. It was not sweet, but it was home and we loved it (at first...) because we were finally living "on our own." It got torn down a few months after we moved out... it was that bad. And now Micah and I live in our sweet little apartment in Scottsdale, and I must say it is far better than my first two experiences. We have a pool, a hot tub, an exercise room, palm trees, and sunshine everyday. We also have two bedrooms, our own washer/dryer, and new carpet. Other than our stove, which I am pretty sure dates back to the 1950s, I have no real complaints (and, yes, we pray often that all our kitchen appliances will break, because our complex has promised to upgrade them to new ones if they do... Dear Lord, Thank you for this food and please help our oven to blow up next time we cook. Amen.) The other interesting thing about apartment-life is having SO many neighbors. We have neighbors next to us, beneath us, behind us. They are everywhere. But in trying to be a part of our community for Christ's sake and intentionally trying to live on mission, having so many neighbors can be a really great thing. Get to know them. Invite them over. Live life with them. Share Christ with them. An apartment complex is ideal for this, except we don't have any neighbors... We did have neighbors, and some very intersting ones at that, but they have fled like there is a plague...hopefully WE are not that plague. It all started about a week after we moved in with Bikini Babe. We moved in, Bikini Babe moved out. We met her on the stairs as she was moving all her stuff out of her apartment to move to another place nearby with cheaper rent. I call her Bikini Babe because she decided to clad her slightly overweight, 50+ year body in bikini for this moving task. She figured if she had to move all her stuff in the August heat, she might as well get tan doing it. Sure, whatever works. However, despite the move, out of all our neighbors, Bikini Babe is the most present in our lives to this day. She happens to be really good friends with the lady that lives beneath us, so she still comes over all the time. After Bikini Babe moved out, another single lady took her place. She was a woman of mystery. I never saw her once in the three-ish months she lived right next to us. One time I saw a grandma-aged woman walk out of her apartment, but Micah informed me this lady was in her 30s or 40s, so this couldn't have been her. Another time I saw a teenage girl walk into the apartmet, still not her. Micah and I talked about meeting her. We talked about having her over for lemonade or dessert sometime, but we never made it happen, and then she was gone. Just like that. Pretty sure she broke her lease, because there is now some kind of court notificaiton stuck to her front door. Goodbye phantom neighbor. And speaking of breaking a lease, that leads me to the most entertaining of all our ex-neighbors. Now overall, we have a pretty tame apartment complex. Lots of older single people, a few younger couples, recent college grads, a few families. A nice healthy mix of safe and quiet... except for the people who lived right below us. Of course. We got to know their Suburban better than we got to know them though, because it was always parked obnoxiously close to my car in our side-by-side covered parking spaces. The "man" of the family (husband is questionable...and based on his behavior, the term "man" is also questionable... it was more "boy in full grown body") drove this huge Suburban ridiculously fast through our parking lot, parked ridiculously crooked next to my car and always had the loudest rap music blaring, despite the young children in his backseat. One time he pulled into his parking spot so violently that he actually knicked my mirror, because my door was open as Micah was getting insurance info out of my car. When Micah told him he needed to drive more carefully, they guy started yelling and cussing at him. Thankfully Micah was in the middle of a phone conversation with the lovely people at Geico and was able to ignore the guy. If not for Micah's dedication to getting the best car insurance rate, there could have been a brawl. Thank you, gecko. The funniest thing about this guy's unruly driving habits and gigantic vehicle was the cross hanging from his rearview mirror and his license plate that had the faces of little children on it that read "Arizona - The State with Good Character." Ha. In the next few weeks, we noticed some very suspicious activity going on down below. There was a circuit of cars coming through the complex and the guy from below had a few other guys over during the late night hours when they would "work" on these cars in the pitch black with flashlights. The next day the car would be gone, but in the next night another one would take its place. Micah finally called the cops and just told them they might want to drive by and check it out. A few days later the cops were there again, but this time they were questioning a very upset woman (the "woman" to the "man") who was being comforted by a friend or sister. The man was nowhere to be seen. After that we never saw any of them again. Notices and bills began piling up on their front door and soon there was a legal sign in the window saying the property had been reclaimed... so long sweet neighbors. So that brings us to where we are today... empty apartment next to us, empty apartment beneath us. After the lady next door moved out, Micah and I realized that if we want to be a light in our neighborhood, there is a definite sense of urgency. Apparently, it's not trendy these days to fulfill your one year lease obligation. But the truth of the matter is that these were our neighbors for a few months at least, and we never got to know them (aside from a verbal conflict with a very bad driver). We never had the lady next door over for lemonade. And for our crazy neighbor with "good character" we might actually be some of the only people with good, Christ-like character he will ever meet...and we never really got to meet him. So we are determined to meet whoever moves in next...with a knock on the door, a batch of cookies, whatever it takes. We won't delay, because we've realized that they might not be around for long. Until then, we will keep getting to know Bikini Babe when she comes to visit her friend downstairs. ... Read more

Winter in Arizona – No Heat Allowed…

So I believe it's officially winter in AZ. I  know it's not technically the winter season until late December, but I think "winter" is here. Other parts of the country are zipping up their coats and seeing snow on the ground, but I think we desert folk have also transitioned out of our almost-eternal summer. Yes, it was almost 90 degrees this past Sunday, and I was planning to lay out by the pool until a much needed nap on my bed distracted me. But now it is winter, and here is how I know: 1) For two days in a row, I have a worn a cardigan or a long sleeved shirt all day without removing them, even while walking in the sun across campus. It's been in the low 70s here. The low 70s is basically Seattle's warmest day of the year, now it's my winter. I like that. 2) I wore dress SOCKS to school today. I have not worn socks, other than for running, probably since last May, but today my feet were so cold I had to bundle them up. 3) This is the most official reason it is now winter in Arizona. This morning  I woke up cold. Our AC is technically still on auto and set at 82, but hasn't turned on the past couple of days due to the lower temps. I put on a little sweater when I woke up, and after Micah left for work I settled down on the couch to do some reading, but it was just too cold. I decided I would try to turn on our heater. Our house was currently 68 degrees, so I put the heat on at 70 and returned to the couch to read my heart out. I was expecting the gross, burning smell that always accompanies a heater that hasn't been turned on for six months (Washington readers probably don't even know about this), but what happened was much more alarming. Yes, our smoke alarm went off! I jguess the smoky smell of most heaters doesn't apply in Arizona, where heaters are used so infrequently that they actually produce smoke when turned on. I quickly turned the heat off, opened the front door, and waited about 30 seconds for the most obnoxious sound in world to cease. By the way, I HATE loud noises such as beeping, honking, and banging ESPECIALLY in the morning. I continued my reading, but I was still cold, so after another 15 minutes or so, I decided to give our heater another try, but not without caution. I turned our heat up to 70 again and spent the next five minutes waving a throw pillow in front of our smoke alarm to prevent it from going off again. It blinked red a couple of times, but my upper body workout totally paid off. No more alarm and I think we now have a funcitoning heater for this 70 degree Arizona paradise called "winter." ... Read more