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the gentle adventures & curious experiences of miss megan

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10/21/09 02:38 pm - Bernander Games Zoning Meeting

This is my recap from the trustees meeting last night. Since I didn't have a recording device, I will put this in words to the best of my abilities. Some of the quotes may be slightly off, but I'll keep it as accurate as I can.

Vince Bernander is a gaming CEO who has his sights on a 64-acre property near the corner Mulberry and County Line Road. On his website he advertises himself as a sports-complex builder with 15 locations, but at the trustees meeting he continued to portray himself as a "Poor, retired schoolteacher with a dream."

Right off the bat, Bernander showed himself to be unprofessional and unprepared in front of a crowd that had certainly done its homework. So many angry Chesterlanders, Gates Mills residents, and Willhouby Hills residents arrived to the meeting that the venue had to be moved to the cafeteria, and the trustees had to continue reminding the crowd to be quiet and courteous.

What Bernander is applying for is a Use Variance for the property. Since the 64 acres is in the middle of a residential area, and is zoned R5, there are very strict restrictions on what can be built there. Namely, houses. Just houses. Nothing but houses.

Bernander is not the current owner of the property. He seeks to buy the property only if this use variance goes through.

I speculate that its current owner is having trouble selling it as one lot of 64 acres due to this very specific zoning.

In the first section of the meeting, Bernander gave a powerpoint presentation, ripe with cheesy clip art. In this powerpoint, Bernander explained that his complex would begin with only six baseball fields. Harmless, right? No gambling, no alcohol, just baseball; and he brought in some special lights he plans on putting in that have "reduced light spillage".

However, in his final plan for the complex, he showed plans for a snowmobile track, basketball courts right up against the property line, public bathrooms, other sports facilities, and a sprawling parking lot containing 500+ parking spaces. Also, the huge field lights he brought in actually have 30 percent light spillage, and he didn't account for other lights that will be installed in the property (parking lot lights, signage, stand lighting, etc.)

During the powerpoint, he also claimed a "Traffic Study" (we later learned that Bernander did this "Traffic Study" himself and wasn't certified by anybody) to show that traffic on Mulberry would increase from 2.5 cars per minute to 4.5 cars per minute.

He also claimed that he would "not use Chester Township resources" such as Fire Department, Police, and Health Services, which made absolutely no sense. If someone got into an accident leaving his complex (Chesterland has no streetlights, and the nearest intersections only have stop signs), would he have his own police department deal with the accident?

Bernander has done no studies about water runoff, or meeting EPA guidelines. He claimed that he would try to be "Green" about powering his facility, but wind turbines do not meet "recreational" zoning guidelines because they are too tall. Currently in Chesterland, there is a law about how high you can build a structure, to keep the natural skyline intact.

He also claimed that his facility would not require a city water and sewer system to be installed in that part of Chesterland, but a facility expecting to fill 525 parking spaces would need a very fancy septic system in order to stay sanitary!! Chances are, this is a sneaky way to introduce city water to residential Chesterland.

During the powerpoint, Bernander claimed he would give Chester Township a cut of his parking profits (He plans to charge for parking? At a baseball field in Chesterland?), as well as give a discount to Chester residents. However, after the powerpoint he upped his offer to "Free use to Chester residents." Does Bernader plan to make a profit solely on out-of-towners who wish to pay to park, and pay again to play baseball and race snowmobiles?

After his powerpoint, one of his associates got on the microphone to take an engineering-based question from a trustee. The associate dodged the question and instead spoke to the grumpy audience about how they must hate playing with their kids because they're against sports. The audience was a-twitter (but not twittering because they were mostly senior citizens and middle-aged people), and clearly offended by these comments.

All in all, there was an awful lot of question-dodging.

In order to get a variance, the person seeking the variance has to first prove that the land cannot be used in its original zoning. Bernander dodged this question outright when asked by the trustees.

Bernander had to prove hardship, and that the hardship wasn't created by his own doing. The legal definition of hardship is:

    "In zoning law, a permissible ground for a variance. Unnecessary hardship exists when the physical characteristics of the real estate are such that it cannot be used for a permitted purpose, or that it can only be used for a permitted purpose at a prohibitive expense, 401 A. 2d 1240, 1242."


When asked about this, Bernander's reply was that he should have brought his legal guy. Later in the meeting, Bernander claimed, "Well, I thought this meeting was going to be a waste of time!"

At some point, Bernander even mentioned the possibility of becoming a non-profit. Between the cost of the land, the cost of construction, his fancy lighting system, and all the legal trouble he is bound to run into, how could he ever make his investment back? When asked if he had filled out a 501(c), Bernander appeared to not really know what that meant, and answered, "No."

The issue came up that Mulberry road is only two lanes, and can't handle the traffic coming from a large sports complex. Also, there is an intersection nearby on top of a steep hill (Mulberry and Ferry roads) that is dangerous by current county standards. Bernander's reply: "Well, the county'll just have to take care of that!!"

That reply elicited more offended mumbles from the audience.

When a citizen asked Bernander what would happen to all the wildlife on the property, Bernander mentioned that he would keep plenty of trees. The citizen replied that trees were good, but that didn't really answer the question. Bernander replied, "Well, wildlife lives in trees, you know."

There were many other moments where it became evident that Mr. Bernander didn't know what he was talking about. His architectural plan became a "rough sketch" after complaints about structures being too close to the property line, and discrepancies in his proposed hours of operation became visible.

Mr. Bernander also claimed that he wanted to be a good neighbor in his community, and that he wouldn't want to be somewhere he wasn't welcome. He must have a pretty thick skull, because nearly 200 of his neighbors, some of them elderly, came out to protest his plan.

One man cited this promise and asked him up front: "Do you consider withdrawing your proposal?"

Bernander: "Well, this piece of land is really perfect for what I want to do. I'll think about withdrawing if there's another piece of land that suits my needs..."

The man, an older gentleman in a ballcap with a tough demeanor, took back the microphone and asked very sternly, "Mr. Bernander, will you withdraw your proposal TONIGHT?"

There was clapping and even some cheering from the audience, but Mr. Bernander once again dodged the question.

One man, a banker-type from Gates Mills, asked Mr. Bernander where he planned to get his funding from. "If I were your bank," he said, "I wouldn't see an organized and profitable enough plan for me to want to give you a loan."

"We have several people interested in this project," replied Mr. Bernander. "After that, I'll have to go to a bank."

Here is the problem. A variance, if granted, applies to the land, not the person seeking the variance. If that piece of land is changed from Residential to Commercial, and Bernander's plan falls through, the land will remain commercial. Bernander does not currently own the land; someone else does.

Chances are, the land will bring a higher profit if sold as commercial rather than residential. The landowner would probably love to see it rezoned (thanks to Bernander's requests), then when Bernander's business fails and the lease cannot be paid, the land will be sold to a commercial business. They could put a K-Mart there, or a(nother) strip mall, or anything. We would have no control.

Many Chesterland residents are aware of this and will do anything in their power to stop it.

Last night's meeting ran overtime, and the Janitor had to close the school. The second part of the meeting, including public commentary, is scheduled for November 17.

7/16/09 02:58 pm - perhaps i am trying to sell you something.

After reading the post on [info]rosalarian 's lj about "starving artists", and how society just expects them to starve and that it's their own fault, I felt like I had a lot to say.

All the ranting I had to say on the matter just come down to one thought:
     If you want the freedom to work for yourself (like an artist does, or like a plumber does, or like an independent whore does)...

   YOU HAVE TO HUSTLE. And there ain't no shame in it. So on to the good stuff! I take checks with valid ID.




Sculls Teapot. ($35 + S&H)

 On to the rest of the Watercat catalog! )

Leave me a comment and let me know what you want to buy so I can put it aside for you!

5/21/09 10:59 pm - C'mon, These Are Obvious

 Stolen from Vida:

1. Go to IMDB.com and look up 25 of your favorite movies.
2. Post four official IMDB "Plot Keywords" for each.
3. Have your friends guess the movies! No Googling!

(I only got 15)

1.  Diet pills, Chocolate Candy, Refrigerator, Coney Island New York "Requiem For a Dream"

2. Fake Suicide, Cat Stevens, Volkswagon Beetle, Flower "Harold and Maude"

3. Dog Humping on Human Leg, Philadelphia, Kimono, Promiscuous Past   "Best In Show" 

4. Number in Title, Movie Projector, Stream of Consciousness, Catholicism

5. Ear Trumpet, Love Triange, Elegaic, Strawberry

6.  Mental Health, Education, ADHD, Prozac "Generation RX"

7.  Hidden Identity, Henchman, Low Self Esteem, Metrosexual

8. Reference to Home Depot, Nipple Ring, Defecation, Gas Siphoning

9.  Nitrate Film, Nihilism, Surrealism, No Dialogue

10.  Robot, 29th Century, Loneliness, Garbage Chute

11. Financial Conspiracy, Schizophrenic, Jewish, Drugs

12. Female Nudity, Surrealism, Sheep, Cornfield

13. LSD, Male Prostitute, Cupcake, UFO

14. Extreme Gore, Torture Porn, Shower Scene, Reference to Mark Twain

15. Poetry, Princess Diana, Lawn Gnome, Destiny "Amelie"


Go to town.

Edit: Scoreboard:
1. Liz
2. Vida
3. Vida
4.
5.
6. Ben Ben
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15. Vida
 


4/23/09 11:10 pm - art post

Official BFA photos! omfg. )

Official BFA photos! omfg. )


 

4/21/09 11:49 am - bfa card

BFA card whoooo )

2/11/09 09:16 pm - fiction

A LACK OF FEEDBACK DOES NOT MEAN NEGATIVE FEEDBACK
a fiction.

    In the quiet hours he gives me I go mad for understanding. The lack of feedback is a gift; it cracks my own head open and gives me time to feed on the evidence.

    I creep up to his desk, where the monitor casts a glow. He is working and cannot be disrupted. I paw at the paperwork, I dial my phone.

    “Hey,” I whisper into the mouthpiece. “Is it weather where you are?” Crisp, springish air comes through the window onto my cheek but I really could care less if it’s raining there or not. It’s something to say. Everyone loves a woman in a gingham dress who acts like she cares.

       The world is cotton, I shall not want. I shall lay me down in sweaters of cotton, cotton is my life and feed. Hold me now, for there is nothing else before me! White sheets flap in the breeze, making the entire meadow smell like dryer-sheets, like Sunday morning sleep. All through March it is about to storm.

It is horrible, too feminine, all flowers and fruits and gilding. Lipstick, collarbone, pale china powder of talcum and lead. One by one I open bottles and streak colors across my face, rake them down my eyelashes, whiten my cheek.

These are mechanical acts to ensure symbolic safety. I have read Bukowski and know far better. The pretty bottles are ham-hype and bullshit. I know for a fact that the greatest human truth is having a warm ass to cuddle up against; it is a masculine truth and therefore I find it difficult to understand.

    Houellebecq says that the future is feminine. Perhaps in an earlier age, when bears were more common, men served some purpose, but the traits that will win the evolutionary lottery are certainly those of caring and gentleness.  The idea of a mother is the pinnacle of evolution. This is what I contemplate when his hands are on me, when my eyes are closed.

He peels my garments from my skin and I contemplate the far future of the human race. He is no creationist, but he puts limited faith in evolution and genetics. I wonder what, then, is drawing his mouth to the back of my neck- after all, he certainly doesn’t truly care for me.

 I am never wearing my teal dress again; I would rather choke on my girlish tongue than go on another date with that racist Asian boy.

    It is raining now.

2/10/09 06:02 pm - annual lake picture

is she glowing? is she scared?

http://i38.photobucket.com/albums/e120/watercat87/lake-2.jpg

1/27/09 01:27 am

girl
you
make
me
s l o w
d o w n.

12/26/08 04:52 am

 i'm not wise i'm not wise i'm not wise not at all

12/1/08 08:57 pm - coffee

COFFEE

I.

So much, so long, woman.
with your straight back & 
shut the door yourself tonight.

often i prefer not to sleep because i am afraid i won't wake up on time;
nothing can wake me up on time, it seems, nothing can get me out of bed.

 my dreams taste so good i refuse to leave them.
i refuse to make you coffee because i hate you.
though I know the secret switch to make that black gold flow from the filter,
and i can dream of the look in your eyes, and your boyfriend's, when i leave the steaming cups on the table.

II.

you are saturnine, smoke, soot and air.
you are coffee-stains and the sound of your slippered toes tapping the chair.

the barrel of my pipe is a gun barrel
a gin barrel.

i am the loudest book in the bomb library.
beware.

III.  LEAVING PITTSBURGH

 

 A grey mess of clouds uncovers a new day as I pack myself into your car:

you clutch a brown paper bag & hit the shift.

 

what did you buy me at the mini-mart?

carmel taste coats my teeth. 

i stretch my newborn eyes open as wide as they go:

looking up, a tangled mess of highway onramps

like a grey spaghetti canopy-

 

uh, morning- the flat-colored sides of houses

surface, sink and falter in the changing light, swinging shadows around their hips.

they crowd the hill for space. i move from sink to sink

inside these windows. 

11/2/08 04:51 pm - in memory

i can't really be unselfishly sad about Ms. Sukle passing because she lived an amazing, honest life and touched the lives of so many of us.

ben and i went to visit her and she seemed so at peace... but so tired. i hope she has rest now.

i wouldn't be where i am today (CIA) if it weren't for her believing in me, also giving me the freedom and encouragement and positive attitude i needed to bloom in ceramics. it wasn't just me: many of us can say those same words.
 
i don't believe people are meant to live forever. i don't believe anyone will. i'm just happy that she and i were on this planet at the same time, that i got to meet her and have her as a teacher for my high school years.

if there is a heaven, that woman is in it. i have no doubts about the future of her spirit or of her memory.

10/30/08 12:18 pm - day 567

falling asleep in a pile of laundry could have been the best thing to happen to me

little italy, 2:30 am, it is raining, i see the tail lights of her car
you bitch, you bitch

10/12/08 08:39 pm

I relax my mind; something beautiful blooms.

I study my reflection in the silver turkish coffee pot, I sway with Sibelius on the radio.

A saturday night; in the lights of the apartment across the way I see the asian boys move to and fro in the windows.

I am chopping up lettuce for a salad. Lemons stacked around the centerpiece on the table; garlic in a bowl.

This is a safe place, no matter what anyone says.
I am blessed, I clasp sweet memories.

9/30/08 04:23 am - white cotton cleveland nights

so much have i loved
for so very long
so sadly, so truly yours
i follow

my ear to your shoulder: i do not touch the road, now- i float
moments above the yellow line.
the air is perfumed: my lungs fill up cold
beneath the glow of the mini mall.

your footsteps, the silence:

white cotton, cleveland nights
i am beside you. that is all i know.

8/19/08 08:35 pm - a new prayer

forgiveness?


yes.


my only prayer tonight is that nobody feels guilt for anything they might have said or done to me.
i sincerely let go of the cruel words that littered my past,
the lonely or nervous feelings,
the laughter in middle school bathrooms,
the awkward follies that young people like us tend to follow.

it's nothing to be afraid of!
it's small potatoes. i am undamaged, bright-eyed, ever hungry for life.

i have had lows,
i have had nights cursing that name, waiting for the key at the door,
hating the boys she lines up on the couches, and eager to criticize her foolish actions.
perhaps i will feel that way again, but tonight I am unafraid and have other concerns.
i am my own destiny's manager, with a true heart!
a thousand troubles don't matter. sentimental brothers and sisters!
the hand of life is steady tonight!

7/29/08 04:02 pm - i want more rage and less sound

cold & scared now, aaare you. ok whatever, it's your own damn fau-lt. i am a wilted flower, i am furi-ous. i do my service to the curi-ous, though i am so afraid of her fingernails (it turns out ok/pleasant even) and the crumpled form snoring on top of me doesn't phase me, the tattoo filigree and i laughed it out even before i let it happen. sometimes i wind back the tape in my mind. only idiots wait for someone else to save them. i carry a card in my wallet; no one asks what happened to my car window. if they do i will tell her that she had mocha skin and serpentine manners and didn't talk all that much.

i think i am arrogant. i know what's coming so i take take take take take to fall asleep and now when the time comes i am a double / a deadweight, i kept that letter tucked s-afe in the arms of false forever that sometimes i laugh and wonder. just keep purrrrrring it and get free when you've confessed all your deeds, get safe in some fat arms, good job. good job! congratulations, happy birthday, mazel tov, goodyear blemished blimp. wide white vein, let someone else dig for your rib cage. laughter is kind of like crying. i'm stronger now, stronger than that, i am mad as hell and i have teeth sharpened for green gems. i'm through pawing at your pudding. at least you didn't crash my car. i don't know how cumea does it.

even now it can't break me down, whatever it is, my own bad decisions and my taste for the absurd. i get so happy i could split in two. sometimes the world lifts me up by the heart towards the ceiling until i feel folded in half, hanging by the rafters. i am a glow a glow a glow. i get so happy i could drown. i hiccup and vomit bubbles of ice cream sweet bubble gum crystal candy hearts, i am the skirts of a thick thunderstorm coming in. i get carried away to wherever they're waiting for me, arms out-stretched. Breakfast sandwich egg.

but yet!

i get so low i could right her a note & off it right now. she knows something's very wrooooong. wrong with so many Os. i have these bad dreams and these good dreams and these taxi-service dreams where i'm lost by the side of route 71 and i know something's very wrong, wrong, yes!!!! wrong, with so many Os.

I refuse to get afraid now. Happiness is waiting for me like an egg dreaming of being split open and made into a breakfast sandwich. I want to expel this ancient poison like a snake hiss.

i am stronger this time. i'm not really sure what will happen.......... the world is full of fat whores and that makes me laugh. The poor set didn't know why i didn't like them: The crumpled mess hanging over the trash can and the sight mollified by shot:
wracking my memory like a file cabinet for what could have turned me against him but i said "no, i am just what i am,"

i swear to god if i hear someone else tell me i just haven't been cooked right yet i'm gonna slit their throat, i'm gonna ask 'em how they look in heels, i'm gonna turn my flat cold back and say no more free cigarettes, no more free shows, you are one universal asshole. No twenty dollars, do not pass go, I'll buy my own drink. You are every idiot musclebound man blended into one anxious and freeloading bitch's son. May all you gave come back to you.

Faith, people, faith. Of course I only want the best for you, because if nothing pulls though I'm a liar in a skirt. Here's to moss-eyes! (down) here's to Valentina the fashion bitch (down) here's to counting calories (DOWN) here's to Sunshine the Anxious Goodyear (dowwwwwwwn) and the song he becomes (down down) and the Second Most Beautiful Girl in the World (Down!) and my amazing forsight and my faith, off it goes, to bed with you, and you, and you, and the forwardness that i always admired, the unpretentious practicality, unable to be leaned on, the night like this you had and how regretful you must have felt one morning later. Toodle-oo, I say, old chap, inane hymn, awkward motion.

There will be pictures. I am coming out of this with SOMETHING, even if it wrecks me, even if they pry the sketchbook from my twitching fingerbones. Take your sketchbook to the market and draw the passers by, take your sketchbook to the bar and draw the strippers. Take your sketchbook to the coffee shop and make a goddamn wish.

7/23/08 04:15 am

I'm still cursing you, no matter how evident it becomes that my life is charmed and sometimes terrible blows are simply lucky breaks in disguise. No, no, things are hard now, difficulty comes with any opportunity for glory. This is truly a roundabout thank you: thank you for getting this butt out of this here chair; thank you for being the impetus for me to spend my hard-earned cash, thank you for shoving me out of my comfort zone like a mother pops out a newborn. I'm bloodcovered and screaming, no parachute, no safety net, but you've got to believe me when I tell you I couldn't have spent forever there. No guts, no glory. You can attest to this, I am sure. Like me, you move through all of life's beautiful adventures crying your panic attacks into telephones; when it's all over you recount it as an amazing experience. For once, I'm going to gut up and be brave. I know one thing about the world now, and that's the fact that there's no time to be wasted flipping out.

I wish I could show off the incredibility of this temporary state to you; at least I wish I could let you see my hair. It has grown out so much over the past month or so; Lexi dyed a beautiful pale blonde streak into it and the rest is glossy black. She did a beautiful job; it is at once daring and classy, hats off to Lexi, for making me look like Kathleen Hanna.

Since squeezing the last drops of practicality out of my life, I've found a closer vein to glamour. I spend many nights playing music with friends or chess in the fashionable all night coffee-shop; the barman knows my favorite drink (plain iced coffee, with a water on the side) & remembers I need room for cream; I meet random people, one of whom lent me a book on Kerouac and told me a story about how he almost died.

This was the spark of disillusionment needed for forward motion. I brush my hair a hundred times a day, now, I do those squatting exercises with the balance ball, I run (okay, so I walk) and drink iced tea and flash a grin into the mirror at the mere mention of 'moderation'. I grapple with heavy philosophical issues like any youth ought to. Do I exist? Is life worth living?

I am vain, vain as hell. Vanity is medicine for any ill of mine. Those first few days all I wanted was to see myself under some new lights, in some new mirrors, and some old mirrors I'd forgotten. How would I look this way, that way? Slipping notes to strangers, drowning in whiskey at a classy bar? Or light and calm, like a sea breeze to the world around me? My friends are beautiful, beautiful adornments both physically and emotionally.

Why is this so easy? Maybe I've never been in love (mirabile dictu!! I am made of nothing but love!)... maybe everything has been vanity all along! I want to be surrounded by the smartest, bravest, most noble. I want to look at the most beautiful, I want to watch the most graceful, I want to hear the loveliest. I never say anything when people fall short but I am constantly searching, once again. I haven't met everyone yet. I have to be on my guard. I was growing dull-sensed and mediocre for a while there, but the relief that I am in fabulous motion again is barely enough to cover this feeling of newness, a nervous feeling. Wish me luck, kid; and remember, any curses or jealous feelings are totally unnecessary. I wouldn't trade this for the world.

typical regards, a bank teller smile, etc,
M.

7/20/08 02:23 am - meet pearl

So, I have an alter-ego named Pearl.

Pearl is kind of sassy, very sweet and feminine, rather innocent, maybe a little mean, and kind of a pirate. She's a little mistrusting, and can take care of herself.

If anyone can help me think of a good last name for Pearl, something glamorous, or even slightly ironic, I would love a suggestion.

thanksssss.

5/30/08 11:29 pm - you will, you. will you? will you will.

i now play the mandolin. i bought one at a pawn shop and know about five chords. I pick up more skills every day. it is a very portable instrument and I have visions of myself biking around with the thing on my back, making up stupid songs about my friends.

today in my spare time i drove to a remote mountain location, sat on a rock overlooking the blue ridge mountains, and strummed Bright Eyes covers and sang until my heart seemed like it would burst.

Conor Oberst is rolling in his fake grave.

I am also learning about ten million new ceramic techniques but I am too overwhelmed to tell you about them all.

5/26/08 12:14 am

i like penland

it seems to be a place generally devoid of racism, homophobia and ageism,

a totally noncompetitive place that encourages weirdness

a place where i am treated as a craftsperson and an equal rather than an 'other', a subordinate or a sexual object
(it feels different- back in cleveland it is easy to become numb to being sized up for my looks upon meeting people; here that feeling of the semiexpectant gaze is gone and it feels like a great weight is lifted from me)

a place of people bound together through work

kind of a hippie place maybe
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