So, we've officially been North Carolina residents for a whole entire week (the underlying implication of course being "and they haven't thrown us out...yet"!) so it must be time for thoughtful reflection on our experiences so far. Hahahahahaha! Just kidding--more like "random thoughts from my tired, overloaded, addled brain...that is if I haven't oh-so-neatly stowed it away in a cabinet somewhere in the unpacking frenzy, and then forgotten where I put it...we'll see how it goes...
First things first: since clutter is my mortal enemy (Oh, all right, that might be a little dramatic. Let's just say it makes me...violently unhappy...) I attacked the landscape of boxes immediately. (Yeah, even before the movers had finished bringing them in...it's a problem, I admit it. Is there a support group for, say, Overzealous Organizers? 'Cuz you can sign me right the heck up....) By the end of the first day, I'd managed to find a place for pretty much everything, (However, whether we ever find anything again? That's will remain to be seen...or, you know, "not"...) It wasn't all work, though--I managed to make my way to the local Target...Bed Bath & Beyond...Home Depot. (Hey, I'm just doing my best to learn the retail scene, right? Making a mental map...of stores...or whatever...)
Then it was time for the deeply important stuff--like patronizing a grocery store before the hungry hordes staged an uprising in protest of the large, lovely...yawningly empty...refrigerator and pantry. Fortunately, there's a Harris Teeter about a mile up the road. Unfortunately, except for an impressive array of beer and wine, I was underwhelmed by this particular location. Unexpectedly, the Food Lion about another mile further saved the day with a decent selection and much better prices--whew! (I won't be facing a Food Revolt...this week, anyway....) At least while I was perusing the disappointing HT, I did happen to notice the yoga studio in the adjacent building (my undeniable tipoff was the crowds of people exiting in stretch pants....too many to be just a casual-clothing-coincidence). They have a pretty extensive schedule, even in the Summer months, so, I can get my "om" on, 5 minutes from my house...YESSSS! In addition, although I haven't made time to stop in yet, I'm told that the Weaver Street Market on the other side of the same building is a wonderful place to browse for local, organic, in-season edibles. (Sounds totally like my kind of place...put it on the To Do List...)
Speaking of local matters, we took a very momentous step: obtaining Library cards. This means we have the opportunity to check out books to read on our back porch (that is, as soon as we purchase some furniture, also on the aforementioned List) while watching the roving packs of deer. (And I know I'm prone to exaggerating, but believe me when I say I have NEVER seen as many Bambis as there are around here. All hours of the day, nibbling on the plant life, gazing placidly at you like "Yeah? Nothin' to see, here--move along, human." Seriously, they just stare at you for a moment and go right back to munching. Now, where was I? Oh yeah...) Also, Husband took the time to visit the DMV for a North Carolina driver's license. We were warned ahead of time that we'd have to take a written test for this, so he did the responsible thing and studied online...and passed...and returned home to clue me in on the material so I could also be successful when I get around to it. (What? I'm just waiting for a really good hair day, of course!)
On the subject of motoring, and such: one thing I'm noticing is that every single time I venture out, no matter what the hour or the weather, I pass walkers, runners, and cyclists by the handful. Now, there were also bikers on the streets in the area we moved from--but I thought they were certifiably nuts to be risking their lives among D.C.-type-drivers. Even when we scouted around here, before committing to the transfer, I realized that in many places there are actual bike lanes designated on the side of the road, allowing 2-wheelers and 4-wheelers to (hopefully) exist in harmony...and safety! Love it. In terms of further outdoor activities, since we're only about a half-mile from the Middle School Riley will be attending, we scoped out the facilities. They have a soccer pitch, a really nice baseball field with a cage, (like for batting practice) and even their own track. The boys have already gotten into a routine of loading up a backpack with gloves, balls, bats, and water bottles, and walking over to the school to play. In fact, one day they were gone so long I had to text them to come home for dinner...so you KNOW they were having a good time!
And there you have it: a crazy-busy week of getting stuff done and checking tasks off the infamous List. Must be time to rest now, right? Oh dear....it's Monday again. Sigh...and away we goooooo...
Monday, June 30, 2014
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Smiles, everyone...
Wow, I am just...SUPER-behind on the old blogging, here. In my defense, I have been a wee bit busy. (I'm practicing a new thing, "under-exaggerating"...do you like it? Or is it too subtle, buried as it is under the heaping mounds of sarcasm? Eh, maybe I should just go back to my specialty: unapologetic hyperbole...) With the packing-extravaganza, the road-tripping mania, and then unpacking-palooza (not a Summer festival you ever hear about, as it's unpopular...poorly attended...and pretty much "the opposite of fun"...) I haven't had time to breathe, much less...be creative and whatnot. (Except maybe about stuff like "where do you want the toaster oven"? Or "have you seen my sneakers"?) However, everything is now put away in the new house--and yes, we've been here since...yesterday...and also, my middle name IS in fact "obsessive-organizer". But I can make absolutely no promises about being able to put together a coherent thought...here goes nothing...
So, let me nutshell this baby for ya: the recent WestEnders Farewell Tour was unequivocally awesome. First there were several coffee dates. (It turns out that sugar and caffeine do in fact dull the pain of leaving good friends...who knew?)There was the Official Goodbye Party, attended by select family members and many old friends. (The funniest thing about this event was that, while the adults chatted, laughed, reminisced, and sipped grown-up beverages, all of our children--who of course didn't exist when we met each other--ran amok in the yard, throwing balls, climbing on the playground set, and generally amusing themselves. Ah, how times have changed...) Then came my last Showcase with my Jazz Ladies (And let me tell ya, there's no bond quite the same as the one forged by wearing matching sequined costumes and prancing around on stage together. You heard it here first...) Next a soccer-mom friend wanted to meet up one last time, so I suggested a Friday night drink. She asked if we could include the husbands, and when I agreed, she executed a surprisingly sneaky move, by inviting several other parents from the team. (So now I'm thinking "Soccer Happy Hour" should definitely be a "thing"...hmmm, maybe I'll have to commit myself to unselfishly blazing that trail...)
All-in-all, it was a week full of lovely memories with very special people who I will always cherish...even if I don't see them quite as often. I mean, c'mon--there were hugs, there were presents...all that was missing was a victory lap around the stadium for me to feel as celebrated as a retiring Cal Ripken, or something. Of course, some of our loved ones have already decided that Team WestEnders needs to continue their tradition of throwing a December Holiday Party...the Southern Edition...so here's to fondly remembering the old stories....and continuing to create new ones!
So, let me nutshell this baby for ya: the recent WestEnders Farewell Tour was unequivocally awesome. First there were several coffee dates. (It turns out that sugar and caffeine do in fact dull the pain of leaving good friends...who knew?)There was the Official Goodbye Party, attended by select family members and many old friends. (The funniest thing about this event was that, while the adults chatted, laughed, reminisced, and sipped grown-up beverages, all of our children--who of course didn't exist when we met each other--ran amok in the yard, throwing balls, climbing on the playground set, and generally amusing themselves. Ah, how times have changed...) Then came my last Showcase with my Jazz Ladies (And let me tell ya, there's no bond quite the same as the one forged by wearing matching sequined costumes and prancing around on stage together. You heard it here first...) Next a soccer-mom friend wanted to meet up one last time, so I suggested a Friday night drink. She asked if we could include the husbands, and when I agreed, she executed a surprisingly sneaky move, by inviting several other parents from the team. (So now I'm thinking "Soccer Happy Hour" should definitely be a "thing"...hmmm, maybe I'll have to commit myself to unselfishly blazing that trail...)
All-in-all, it was a week full of lovely memories with very special people who I will always cherish...even if I don't see them quite as often. I mean, c'mon--there were hugs, there were presents...all that was missing was a victory lap around the stadium for me to feel as celebrated as a retiring Cal Ripken, or something. Of course, some of our loved ones have already decided that Team WestEnders needs to continue their tradition of throwing a December Holiday Party...the Southern Edition...so here's to fondly remembering the old stories....and continuing to create new ones!
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Four score and...okay, more like "yesterday"
For years, the kids and I have been going on what I whimsically call Family Field Trips--where I basically drag them around the countryside, in order to visit all kinds of historical and cultural sites that I find fascinating. (Um, I mean "expose them to unique opportunities for furthering their education and deepening their understanding of their heritage"...or some such nonsense...) And really--aside from a good-natured groan or subtle eye roll at Mom's foibles--they've always taken it completely in stride when I suggest such outings...because they're good sports. But a couple of months ago, Derek suddenly asked if we could go to Gettysburg before we move. I was equally stunned and pleased by his request, especially when he elaborated, "We learned all about the Civil War this year, and it was interesting. So now I actually want to see the battlefield." Let me get this straight, son: you're actually requesting an excursion...to an educational location...simply for your own enjoyment? Welllll, I'll think about it...just kidding! Heck, yeah we can do that!
Of course, certain factors had to be taken into consideration. Like this year's endless Winter weather, for example. (I know, I know, it's a battlefield, there's supposed to be adversity...conflict...and whatnot. But for me--wimpy 21st century scholar that I am--fighting the wind chill and tromping over frozen ground is just not as much...fun...) And then, we had soccer season, when every Saturday for 2 months was booked. Oh, and of course that little thing called "getting ready to move" which recently started sucking up every available moment of time. So finally, with the calendar showing less than a week left before we head south, we tossed aside our responsibilities for a day and headed across the Mason/Dixon Line to Pennsylvania. Did we care that it was forecasted to be a humid 94 degrees, with a Heat Advisory? Actually, I purposely neglected to tell the boys that, so the answer is "NO! We're intrepid adventurers, and we laugh scornfully at these conditions!" (While chugging cold water, fanning ourselves, and resting in the shade...but whatever!)
I have to say, this particular jaunt was a bit different than our previous ones. Usually I'm the one pointing things out and giving all the exposition. But having studied this period of history extensively in 8th grade Social Studies class, Derek brought his own background knowledge to the conversation this time. For example, he informed me that according to the research he'd done for a project on Robert E. Lee, the famous Confederate general didn't believe in slavery. Therefore, he would have fought for the Union, had he not felt obligated to support his home state of Virginia. (Ooh, it just gives me...nerd chills...I love this stuff, I tell ya...) We discussed the moral implications of slavery, and the plantation way of life as it related to the ultimate downfall of the South. On a related note, we talked about the battle of Vicksburg and its importance as a turning point in the war, with the North prevailing and gaining control of the Mississippi River, thereby cutting off the South's major shipping route and crippling its ability to move supplies to its troops and citizens. The last point I remember Derek making (before heatstroke fogged my brain) is that for one of the early skirmishes, townspeople came out to watch the action, bringing picnic baskets as if it were just a pleasant day at the park. When they witnessed the actual blood and violence and death involved in armed hand-to-hand combat, it began to sink in that this "War Between the States" was REAL...and could become a horrific event in our young country's history.
Soooo, having survived the hiking portion of our day...and our little seminar...we retired to the air conditioned "cantina" for some non-authentic LUNCH. I'd venture to say we paid a heck of a lot more than 1860s prices...but never has a cooooold fountain soda tasted so good. After that, I promised the weary travelers they could relax during the Auto Tour phase of our afternoon. (In which you follow the map, drive from #1 to #2, and so on, and get out when something strikes your fancy.) Some of the markers--plaques...fields...random statues of men on horses--we gave a cheery wave to, while motoring right on past. Others--scenic overlooks, towers with awesome views of the surrounding countryside, cool monuments--we hopped out and afforded our full attention. Altogether, while it was quite an exhausting whirlwind Tour de Gettysburg, we agreed that it had been well worth our time and energy. Hmm, I wonder what historical topics they'll be focusing on NEXT year in school...I have all Summer to find out...and pre-study!
Of course, certain factors had to be taken into consideration. Like this year's endless Winter weather, for example. (I know, I know, it's a battlefield, there's supposed to be adversity...conflict...and whatnot. But for me--wimpy 21st century scholar that I am--fighting the wind chill and tromping over frozen ground is just not as much...fun...) And then, we had soccer season, when every Saturday for 2 months was booked. Oh, and of course that little thing called "getting ready to move" which recently started sucking up every available moment of time. So finally, with the calendar showing less than a week left before we head south, we tossed aside our responsibilities for a day and headed across the Mason/Dixon Line to Pennsylvania. Did we care that it was forecasted to be a humid 94 degrees, with a Heat Advisory? Actually, I purposely neglected to tell the boys that, so the answer is "NO! We're intrepid adventurers, and we laugh scornfully at these conditions!" (While chugging cold water, fanning ourselves, and resting in the shade...but whatever!)
I have to say, this particular jaunt was a bit different than our previous ones. Usually I'm the one pointing things out and giving all the exposition. But having studied this period of history extensively in 8th grade Social Studies class, Derek brought his own background knowledge to the conversation this time. For example, he informed me that according to the research he'd done for a project on Robert E. Lee, the famous Confederate general didn't believe in slavery. Therefore, he would have fought for the Union, had he not felt obligated to support his home state of Virginia. (Ooh, it just gives me...nerd chills...I love this stuff, I tell ya...) We discussed the moral implications of slavery, and the plantation way of life as it related to the ultimate downfall of the South. On a related note, we talked about the battle of Vicksburg and its importance as a turning point in the war, with the North prevailing and gaining control of the Mississippi River, thereby cutting off the South's major shipping route and crippling its ability to move supplies to its troops and citizens. The last point I remember Derek making (before heatstroke fogged my brain) is that for one of the early skirmishes, townspeople came out to watch the action, bringing picnic baskets as if it were just a pleasant day at the park. When they witnessed the actual blood and violence and death involved in armed hand-to-hand combat, it began to sink in that this "War Between the States" was REAL...and could become a horrific event in our young country's history.
Soooo, having survived the hiking portion of our day...and our little seminar...we retired to the air conditioned "cantina" for some non-authentic LUNCH. I'd venture to say we paid a heck of a lot more than 1860s prices...but never has a cooooold fountain soda tasted so good. After that, I promised the weary travelers they could relax during the Auto Tour phase of our afternoon. (In which you follow the map, drive from #1 to #2, and so on, and get out when something strikes your fancy.) Some of the markers--plaques...fields...random statues of men on horses--we gave a cheery wave to, while motoring right on past. Others--scenic overlooks, towers with awesome views of the surrounding countryside, cool monuments--we hopped out and afforded our full attention. Altogether, while it was quite an exhausting whirlwind Tour de Gettysburg, we agreed that it had been well worth our time and energy. Hmm, I wonder what historical topics they'll be focusing on NEXT year in school...I have all Summer to find out...and pre-study!
Sunday, June 15, 2014
The Five Stages of...Moving
I don't care what your specific situational details are--single or partnered, childless or family...ed, jumping one town over, across the country, or to another part of the world--moving is a life-altering experience. As I approach the end of the process, it occurred to me that I've gone through distinct phases along the way, namely:
Exhilaration--the idea is born, bringing with it an abundance of excitement and joy. One might think, "Look at me, I'm gonna uproot my crew, cart along all of our belongings, and start over in a new (city/state/country)! I'm bold....brazen...heck, I'm a....badass adventurer, that's what I am! Let's do this thing!" (Yeah, for me this portion of our journey was fueled by a number of things, among them: disgust with the cold and snowy conditions of the last several Winters, desire for a change of scenery and new region to explore...and let's not fail to give credit to, 'no small amount of coffee'...) In the throes of such an excess of energy and enthusiasm, you next consider:
Conceptualization--also known as the "nitty gritty"...researching potential locales, discussing the pros and cons, making the best selection for all of the players involved, figuring out how to transfer one's whole life from one spot to another. Like most decisions in my life, for me this step included a whole lotta lists...sections of town, schools, sports opportunities, cultural offerings, culinary options...etc. This is a relatively brief stop on the journey, because at this point, the entire scenario exists on paper (or, you know, "Word document"...) until you reach:
Implementation--now the actual legwork begins. Visiting, driving around, taking notes, narrowing down choices, at first. Then, more concrete action like: working with a real estate agent to pinpoint desirable neighborhoods, viewing houses on the market, sampling the local life in small doses. And then...things get really...real. Putting a house up for sale, writing an offer on a new one, closing out one mortgage, starting another. Initiating the packing process, hiring a truck (and, more importantly, the strong, well-trained professionals who will haul your stuff into it...), cleaning out anything that won't be making the trip. Arranging for painting and various handyman-jobs to be completed in your absence at the new abode. Cancelling and re-starting utility services, changing address information with what seems like about 75 different providers who need to know these things...and when your head stops spinning for a second from wrestling with and worrying about all of these many tasks:
Realization--or "Holy guacamole...we're actually MOVING!" It finally starts to sink in: we're leaving the house--and the town--where we've lived for almost 15 years. Where both our kids were born. Family, Mom's group, soccer team , dance class, co-workers, school, even most of our college chums...as we run around from one social event to another, get together with all of our friends "one last time", we find ourselves bidding them ...let's just say 'so long, for now'. (You'll notice I refuse to say 'goodbye'--after all, we're not going THAT far away...) Suddenly (or one might say "at long last") it's sinking in that--in about a week--we're really going to become residents of another state...where we'll have to meet new people, find our way around, and basically build a life. Wow. (I know, I know...this has been coming for months, how could it just be registering now? All I can say is that I've been a teensy weensy bit swamped with the previous requirements...so this little nugget managed to escape my immediate notice. My brain obviously put it on the proverbial back burner...well, it's front-and-center now, let me tell ya...) But then, all that's left is:
Finalization--mopping up the last bits of organizing (or, in reality what will probably turn out to be "frantically chucking stuff in random boxes at the very last minute, one step ahead of the moving guys"). Although I feel a predictable combination of anticipation...and sadness...I love knowing that in the digital age it's soooooo much easier to keep in touch from a distance--email, texting, Facebook (oh, and of course that most ancient and primitive of methods: "placing a phone call"). It's true that I won't see my special friends and loved ones face-to-face as often, but I won't be completely "out of the loop". And as we've often pointed out since this whole epic saga began, we're only a half-day's drive away, and everyone should think about it in terms of "a cool new place to visit"! (Just...um...call or text or email or FB message when you're on your way, please!)
Exhilaration--the idea is born, bringing with it an abundance of excitement and joy. One might think, "Look at me, I'm gonna uproot my crew, cart along all of our belongings, and start over in a new (city/state/country)! I'm bold....brazen...heck, I'm a....badass adventurer, that's what I am! Let's do this thing!" (Yeah, for me this portion of our journey was fueled by a number of things, among them: disgust with the cold and snowy conditions of the last several Winters, desire for a change of scenery and new region to explore...and let's not fail to give credit to, 'no small amount of coffee'...) In the throes of such an excess of energy and enthusiasm, you next consider:
Conceptualization--also known as the "nitty gritty"...researching potential locales, discussing the pros and cons, making the best selection for all of the players involved, figuring out how to transfer one's whole life from one spot to another. Like most decisions in my life, for me this step included a whole lotta lists...sections of town, schools, sports opportunities, cultural offerings, culinary options...etc. This is a relatively brief stop on the journey, because at this point, the entire scenario exists on paper (or, you know, "Word document"...) until you reach:
Implementation--now the actual legwork begins. Visiting, driving around, taking notes, narrowing down choices, at first. Then, more concrete action like: working with a real estate agent to pinpoint desirable neighborhoods, viewing houses on the market, sampling the local life in small doses. And then...things get really...real. Putting a house up for sale, writing an offer on a new one, closing out one mortgage, starting another. Initiating the packing process, hiring a truck (and, more importantly, the strong, well-trained professionals who will haul your stuff into it...), cleaning out anything that won't be making the trip. Arranging for painting and various handyman-jobs to be completed in your absence at the new abode. Cancelling and re-starting utility services, changing address information with what seems like about 75 different providers who need to know these things...and when your head stops spinning for a second from wrestling with and worrying about all of these many tasks:
Realization--or "Holy guacamole...we're actually MOVING!" It finally starts to sink in: we're leaving the house--and the town--where we've lived for almost 15 years. Where both our kids were born. Family, Mom's group, soccer team , dance class, co-workers, school, even most of our college chums...as we run around from one social event to another, get together with all of our friends "one last time", we find ourselves bidding them ...let's just say 'so long, for now'. (You'll notice I refuse to say 'goodbye'--after all, we're not going THAT far away...) Suddenly (or one might say "at long last") it's sinking in that--in about a week--we're really going to become residents of another state...where we'll have to meet new people, find our way around, and basically build a life. Wow. (I know, I know...this has been coming for months, how could it just be registering now? All I can say is that I've been a teensy weensy bit swamped with the previous requirements...so this little nugget managed to escape my immediate notice. My brain obviously put it on the proverbial back burner...well, it's front-and-center now, let me tell ya...) But then, all that's left is:
Finalization--mopping up the last bits of organizing (or, in reality what will probably turn out to be "frantically chucking stuff in random boxes at the very last minute, one step ahead of the moving guys"). Although I feel a predictable combination of anticipation...and sadness...I love knowing that in the digital age it's soooooo much easier to keep in touch from a distance--email, texting, Facebook (oh, and of course that most ancient and primitive of methods: "placing a phone call"). It's true that I won't see my special friends and loved ones face-to-face as often, but I won't be completely "out of the loop". And as we've often pointed out since this whole epic saga began, we're only a half-day's drive away, and everyone should think about it in terms of "a cool new place to visit"! (Just...um...call or text or email or FB message when you're on your way, please!)
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Chapel Hill Randomness
Although my brain is a mud puddle right now--after running around like a crazy person the last couple of days trying to get as much done as possible before returning to Maryland--just a few anecdotes that need to be...downloaded...from my brain before they disappear forever...
--Even though it's not quite mid-June, it got hot enough here to thunderstorm on Monday night. (I'm sorry, what I meant to say was: "torrential downpours accompanied by booming thunder and dazzling flashes of lightning"...) Then today, as I was leaving the house to run a quick errand (blithely ignoring the helpful text alert that I had just received about Flash Flooding--"Eh, it's not even raining yet, how bad could it possibly get?" she wondered unconcernedly...and unwisely...) it started to HAIL. Visibility dropped to, oh, approximately -5 (yeah, that's when you can't even see past your steering wheel...ask a meteorologist...) and chunks of ice began dinging off my roof and hood. Jeez, Louise, they're serious about weather down here!
--Yesterday, I met with a wallpaper-remover-guy and a painter. I liked both of them, so I decided to go ahead and schedule the work. Mr. Wallpaper had left me a voicemail saying he could start Thursday, but when I tried to get in touch and give the green light, his phone kept informing me that it wasn't accepting messages. Since I'm also leaving on Thursday, I wanted to get this set up, and thus was feeling frustrated. So I called Mr. Painter and told him my dilemma. He chuckled kindly. "You're from Maryland, right?" he asked. Um...yeeeessss? "They do things differently up there," he said knowingly, "but if he already said he'd do the job, he will." He continued, "After you've been here a while, you'll get used to it." Ohhhh, I get it...basically you're telling me in the nicest way possible that the stressed out Northerner doesn't need to worry about it, and can just relax? Alrighty then! (I should have known I was in a different world when NONE of the contractors I interviewed asked for any money up front. They're all okay just sending me a bill when the work is completed....this is a totally foreign--but not at all unwelcome--concept to me...I could get used to this...)
--So, having hired my crew, I headed back to Target and Home Depot for supplies. Target was fine, although more expensive than my usual, everyday trip of course. (10 curtain rods will do that!) However, when I tried to check out at HD, my card was declined (nowhere even remotely close to my limit, I promise). Granted, the total was...shall we say...somewhat scary...but what the HECK? Then I got the email about possible fraudulent activity on my account...Ah, yes! They must think I'm some kind of...interior-designing-identity-thief...or something. Well, thanks very much for the embarrassment at the register, MasterCard, but it's just ME, attempting to outfit my new house. It never occurred to me to inform you ahead of time that I'd be traveling and making purchases...in North Carolina! Sheesh. I promise, all I'm buying tomorrow...is lunch on the road!
For now, it's so long, Southland. But in less than 2 weeks, Team WestEnders will return in force...and then you'd better watch out, 'cuz we're gonna start...acting like we live here!
--Even though it's not quite mid-June, it got hot enough here to thunderstorm on Monday night. (I'm sorry, what I meant to say was: "torrential downpours accompanied by booming thunder and dazzling flashes of lightning"...) Then today, as I was leaving the house to run a quick errand (blithely ignoring the helpful text alert that I had just received about Flash Flooding--"Eh, it's not even raining yet, how bad could it possibly get?" she wondered unconcernedly...and unwisely...) it started to HAIL. Visibility dropped to, oh, approximately -5 (yeah, that's when you can't even see past your steering wheel...ask a meteorologist...) and chunks of ice began dinging off my roof and hood. Jeez, Louise, they're serious about weather down here!
--Yesterday, I met with a wallpaper-remover-guy and a painter. I liked both of them, so I decided to go ahead and schedule the work. Mr. Wallpaper had left me a voicemail saying he could start Thursday, but when I tried to get in touch and give the green light, his phone kept informing me that it wasn't accepting messages. Since I'm also leaving on Thursday, I wanted to get this set up, and thus was feeling frustrated. So I called Mr. Painter and told him my dilemma. He chuckled kindly. "You're from Maryland, right?" he asked. Um...yeeeessss? "They do things differently up there," he said knowingly, "but if he already said he'd do the job, he will." He continued, "After you've been here a while, you'll get used to it." Ohhhh, I get it...basically you're telling me in the nicest way possible that the stressed out Northerner doesn't need to worry about it, and can just relax? Alrighty then! (I should have known I was in a different world when NONE of the contractors I interviewed asked for any money up front. They're all okay just sending me a bill when the work is completed....this is a totally foreign--but not at all unwelcome--concept to me...I could get used to this...)
--So, having hired my crew, I headed back to Target and Home Depot for supplies. Target was fine, although more expensive than my usual, everyday trip of course. (10 curtain rods will do that!) However, when I tried to check out at HD, my card was declined (nowhere even remotely close to my limit, I promise). Granted, the total was...shall we say...somewhat scary...but what the HECK? Then I got the email about possible fraudulent activity on my account...Ah, yes! They must think I'm some kind of...interior-designing-identity-thief...or something. Well, thanks very much for the embarrassment at the register, MasterCard, but it's just ME, attempting to outfit my new house. It never occurred to me to inform you ahead of time that I'd be traveling and making purchases...in North Carolina! Sheesh. I promise, all I'm buying tomorrow...is lunch on the road!
For now, it's so long, Southland. But in less than 2 weeks, Team WestEnders will return in force...and then you'd better watch out, 'cuz we're gonna start...acting like we live here!
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Camping out in Chapel Hill
So, here I am sitting on the floor in my new...empty...house...catching up on what's happened in the past couple of crazy-on-toast days. Because let's face it--while it was absolutely critical for me to bring my computer (that goes without saying, right?)...a chair? Not so much. Besides, I had stuffed the Subaru full to the brim with all of the pictures and photo albums I just didn't want to spend time prepping for the moving truck. So yeah, it was me, a suitcase, many many boxes of heavy books...and lots and lots o'glass. (Fortunately I was traveling solo, so I could belt out showtunes at the top of my lungs...to distract myself from the fragility of my cargo...or some such nonsense...)
Anyway, I made it back to North Carolina without mishap, for the settlement meeting on Monday morning. All I can say about that particular event is that since I was representing both of us for the proceeding, I had to write the following phrase at least 50 times: "(Husband's first name, middle initial, last name), by (my first name, middle initial, last name), his attorney in fact". Oh, did that get really old, really fast....and he's already been informed that he will be paying me back...preferably in chocolate. But after that, it was (da da da DA) MY HOUSE. (Okay, okay "our house", but I'm the only one here right now, so I'm truly the Queen of the Castle...for the moment...)
So I came right over, checked it out, lugged the 975 pounds of stuff in from my car...and then hung out to wait for the AT&T guy to show up and make the magical Internet and cable TV connections happen. But after that, hoo boy, the fun really got started, let me tell you. I hopped in the Forester, fired up the GPS, and set off to find the nearest Target...and Bed Bath & Beyond. (Yep, major excitement, I know.) While the purchasing itself was ho-hum routine, (dish drainer...shower curtain...soap dispenser...yawn...) the fact that I made it back without the navigation app gave me a super-dorky thrill. (What can I say? Easily amused...) Another cheap bit of entertainment: I found and programmed in some radio stations I like...I mean, it's almost like I live here, or something...oh wait...)
That was quite enough for one day, because Tuesday's agenda kicked off with a 9:00 contractor meeting, to get an estimate on the list of jobs we'd like done before we fully move ourselves and all our household belongings in. (Lest I forget, first I had to greet the local wildlife--a mother and baby deer--who were serenely munching the greenery on my front lawn. I swear they barely glanced at me when I came out the front door...except to throw me a brief look that seemed to say, "Yeah? Whatta you want? This is our yard!" Darn...bambis!) Then it was off to the local post office, to instruct them to hold our mail for the next 2 weeks, to prevent our box overflowing before we can deal with it. Next, I visited the school administrative offices, to register the boys. This process took approximately 5 quick, painless minutes, but during that time--believe it or not--I met another mom who introduced herself and told me she, too, has a son who will be a Freshman at Derek's new high school...furthermore, she used to live in Maryland, about 1/2 hour from Olney. Freaky! But in a cool, happy coincidence way! Finally, I needed to make a quick stop at Home Depot...and one more at Target (yes, AGAIN) before heading home. (All of this is helping me to build the map in my head, I suppose...)
When I got back (the foraging forest creatures were STILL there, by the way...or I guess it could have been some completely different ones, how am I supposed to tell them apart?) it was time to talk to a painter about slapping some color on the walls around here. When the decorating discussion was completed, I figured I had earned a nap...before the next scheduled activity, in which I planned to brave the heat and explore my habitat on foot. I was thinking that I would try to simulate Riley's..."commute"...as I discovered that, due to the proximity of our house to his school, he will definitely be a walker or biker next year. Well...I enjoyed a lovely stroll on tree-lined sidewalks through peaceful, attractive adjacent neighborhoods...but I never did stumble upon the actual school building. Eh, we have several months to figure that out...
At that point, I had hit the "famished" level. So I decided to allow the...Food Fates...to guide my dinner search. Once more I climbed into the trusty steed--um, "motorized vehicle" and let the winds of fortune lead me to sustenance. What ended up happening was that I found myself on Franklin Street, in the heart of downtown Chapel Hill--quite fortuitous (and more importantly, hunger quelling). The way it worked out allowed me to learn that we now reside about 3 miles from UNC and all the fun stuff that surrounds it--yay! Also useful: I have managed to locate (not entirely error-free, but whatever...) the nearest grocery store, all-purpose retail mecca, and Whole Foods. Now all I need is my closest Dunkin' Donuts, and I'll be all set! Too bad my Southern experiment is almost at an end...for now...and let's just hope I don't forget it all before I return in 2 weeks! Maybe I should be writing this stuff down...now where did I pack the pens...
Anyway, I made it back to North Carolina without mishap, for the settlement meeting on Monday morning. All I can say about that particular event is that since I was representing both of us for the proceeding, I had to write the following phrase at least 50 times: "(Husband's first name, middle initial, last name), by (my first name, middle initial, last name), his attorney in fact". Oh, did that get really old, really fast....and he's already been informed that he will be paying me back...preferably in chocolate. But after that, it was (da da da DA) MY HOUSE. (Okay, okay "our house", but I'm the only one here right now, so I'm truly the Queen of the Castle...for the moment...)
So I came right over, checked it out, lugged the 975 pounds of stuff in from my car...and then hung out to wait for the AT&T guy to show up and make the magical Internet and cable TV connections happen. But after that, hoo boy, the fun really got started, let me tell you. I hopped in the Forester, fired up the GPS, and set off to find the nearest Target...and Bed Bath & Beyond. (Yep, major excitement, I know.) While the purchasing itself was ho-hum routine, (dish drainer...shower curtain...soap dispenser...yawn...) the fact that I made it back without the navigation app gave me a super-dorky thrill. (What can I say? Easily amused...) Another cheap bit of entertainment: I found and programmed in some radio stations I like...I mean, it's almost like I live here, or something...oh wait...)
That was quite enough for one day, because Tuesday's agenda kicked off with a 9:00 contractor meeting, to get an estimate on the list of jobs we'd like done before we fully move ourselves and all our household belongings in. (Lest I forget, first I had to greet the local wildlife--a mother and baby deer--who were serenely munching the greenery on my front lawn. I swear they barely glanced at me when I came out the front door...except to throw me a brief look that seemed to say, "Yeah? Whatta you want? This is our yard!" Darn...bambis!) Then it was off to the local post office, to instruct them to hold our mail for the next 2 weeks, to prevent our box overflowing before we can deal with it. Next, I visited the school administrative offices, to register the boys. This process took approximately 5 quick, painless minutes, but during that time--believe it or not--I met another mom who introduced herself and told me she, too, has a son who will be a Freshman at Derek's new high school...furthermore, she used to live in Maryland, about 1/2 hour from Olney. Freaky! But in a cool, happy coincidence way! Finally, I needed to make a quick stop at Home Depot...and one more at Target (yes, AGAIN) before heading home. (All of this is helping me to build the map in my head, I suppose...)
When I got back (the foraging forest creatures were STILL there, by the way...or I guess it could have been some completely different ones, how am I supposed to tell them apart?) it was time to talk to a painter about slapping some color on the walls around here. When the decorating discussion was completed, I figured I had earned a nap...before the next scheduled activity, in which I planned to brave the heat and explore my habitat on foot. I was thinking that I would try to simulate Riley's..."commute"...as I discovered that, due to the proximity of our house to his school, he will definitely be a walker or biker next year. Well...I enjoyed a lovely stroll on tree-lined sidewalks through peaceful, attractive adjacent neighborhoods...but I never did stumble upon the actual school building. Eh, we have several months to figure that out...
At that point, I had hit the "famished" level. So I decided to allow the...Food Fates...to guide my dinner search. Once more I climbed into the trusty steed--um, "motorized vehicle" and let the winds of fortune lead me to sustenance. What ended up happening was that I found myself on Franklin Street, in the heart of downtown Chapel Hill--quite fortuitous (and more importantly, hunger quelling). The way it worked out allowed me to learn that we now reside about 3 miles from UNC and all the fun stuff that surrounds it--yay! Also useful: I have managed to locate (not entirely error-free, but whatever...) the nearest grocery store, all-purpose retail mecca, and Whole Foods. Now all I need is my closest Dunkin' Donuts, and I'll be all set! Too bad my Southern experiment is almost at an end...for now...and let's just hope I don't forget it all before I return in 2 weeks! Maybe I should be writing this stuff down...now where did I pack the pens...
Thursday, June 5, 2014
Girl talk...for boys...
Being the only girl-type-person in my household, I sometimes have the opportunity to impart a bit of insight into the deep and intricate mysteries of the female mind. For example: since I usually keep my hair pretty long, I've gotten used to the fact that no one ever says anything when I get it trimmed. (I'm talking friends, family, co-workers...no one seems to notice...what's up with that?) So today, for the first time EVER, Derek came in after school, did a double take, and said, "Hey, did you get your hair cut?" After I recovered from the shock, I replied that I had indeed visited the salon today and gotten several inches chopped off.
Then I waited. And waited some more, staring intently at him with what I'm sure was an anticipatory and prompting expression. He gazed back, seemingly aware that I required some input from him, but utterly flummoxed as to what this could possibly be. Finally I sighed when I realized that I would need to embark upon a valuable Life Lesson with my clueless teenager. After first praising him for at least recognizing that I looked different, I instructed him that the post-haircut conversation should always go like this: "Did you get your hair cut?" (Conversational partner answers in the affirmative.) Immediately--and I mean without even a tiny pause--one must follow up with one of these options 1) a sincere "I like it!" or 2) an enthusiastic "It looks nice!" Either one is acceptable...and also an entirely expected social nicety. (Actually I clarified, here--one need not follow these guidelines when speaking with a fellow dude...only with the...um..."fairer-and-more-sensitive-sex"...)
Of course, as a practical-minded male, he had to ask, "But what if it looks horrible?" (In case you were wondering, yes, in fact he DOES get his overwhelming store of tact from his father....) "Well, then you don't mention it at all, and pretend nothing has changed." I thought this was enough for him to absorb in one session. I didn't even bother to get into the complexities involved with using supportive phrases like "Don't worry, it'll grow out" or "I'm sure it's just the way they styled it, and it'll look great tomorrow!" These are clearly more advanced topics for another time. Next, perhaps we'll tackle the minefield discussion known as "Do these jeans make my butt look fat?" Ah, my (not-so) little grasshopper has sooooo much to learn...do you think he's ready to practice in the wilds...of Middle School?
Then I waited. And waited some more, staring intently at him with what I'm sure was an anticipatory and prompting expression. He gazed back, seemingly aware that I required some input from him, but utterly flummoxed as to what this could possibly be. Finally I sighed when I realized that I would need to embark upon a valuable Life Lesson with my clueless teenager. After first praising him for at least recognizing that I looked different, I instructed him that the post-haircut conversation should always go like this: "Did you get your hair cut?" (Conversational partner answers in the affirmative.) Immediately--and I mean without even a tiny pause--one must follow up with one of these options 1) a sincere "I like it!" or 2) an enthusiastic "It looks nice!" Either one is acceptable...and also an entirely expected social nicety. (Actually I clarified, here--one need not follow these guidelines when speaking with a fellow dude...only with the...um..."fairer-and-more-sensitive-sex"...)
Of course, as a practical-minded male, he had to ask, "But what if it looks horrible?" (In case you were wondering, yes, in fact he DOES get his overwhelming store of tact from his father....) "Well, then you don't mention it at all, and pretend nothing has changed." I thought this was enough for him to absorb in one session. I didn't even bother to get into the complexities involved with using supportive phrases like "Don't worry, it'll grow out" or "I'm sure it's just the way they styled it, and it'll look great tomorrow!" These are clearly more advanced topics for another time. Next, perhaps we'll tackle the minefield discussion known as "Do these jeans make my butt look fat?" Ah, my (not-so) little grasshopper has sooooo much to learn...do you think he's ready to practice in the wilds...of Middle School?
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
Heigh ho, heigh ho...or not....
Compared to some people--Husband, for example--I could be considered a bit of a...let's call it "career...butterfly"...flitting from one profession to the next. (Okay...not entirely accurate...but I like the metaphor anyway, so indulge me, here...) What I mean is: Husband has been in the same industry since he graduated from college. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that--he finds it both satisfying and stimulating, and he could perfectly well see himself contentedly continuing in this vein until he retires one day. On the other hand, while I started out with pretty concrete plans--deciding in high school that I wanted to major in speech-language pathology--my own employment path has been characterized by a few more twists and turns along the way. Oh sure, I did practice as an SLP...for a while. After completing my studies, I accepted a position with a nearby school system, and worked there for 5 years. Then I left for a neighboring county. Next I switched schools within that district. Finally, when Husband and I agreed that we were ready to start a family, I felt the moment had also arrived for..."something else, career-wise"...whatever that might be.
Inspiration came from someone (a total stranger, oddly...and fortuitously...enough) suggesting to me that I try getting hired as a sign-language interpreter, since I'd had experience with ASL during both my undergrad and graduate education. So I contacted a local community college to set up an interview...confessing sheepishly that I'd need to bring along my then-16-month-old, since I hadn't arranged any kind of babysitting for him yet. The woman who met with me was warm, friendly, and delightful in every way...and I believe also sympathetic, since she herself was about 7-months pregnant at the time! As I remember it, Derek sat quietly in the corner and colored, while we conducted our "adult business". And although I told the lady very honestly that I was rusty...and extremely nervous...she ended up offering me a job anyway (bless her little pea-pickin' heart).
I was elated...exhilarated...energized by my new opportunity! And so I set off to work on Day One, ready to take on any and all challenges (such as my first assignment: interpreting a college-level Spanish class...for a Deaf student...into ASL--yeah, if that doesn't make your head explode, NOTHING will...) It was September 11, 2001. I dropped off my toddler for his initial foray into the perilous world of in-home daycare. Let's just say...he did not take it well--full-on screaming, sobbing, separation-anxiety tantrum. Yeah, I was a mess when I fled the scene. And that was of course before I heard the initial reports out of New York, as I was listening to the radio on my commute. Obviously it was a first-day-on-the-job that I will never forget.
Flash forward through almost 13 years, all of which I spent enjoying part-time employment at that very same institution of higher learning...that is, until a few weeks ago. When the Spring Semester came to a close, so did my tenure at the college. At first, the fact barely registered. I mean, we have breaks all the time, for holidays and Summer and whatnot, so it felt perfectly normal to not be putting on my grown-up clothes and motoring off to campus. But then, silly little things began creeping into my consciousness and reminding me that my life had changed...like when I realized I could take down the hang-tag from my rearview mirror (the one that lets me park in the privileged "Faculty" section). It had been a fixture in my peripheral vision since I obtained it my very first day at the school. Then I was explaining to a friend about the carwash I prefer, "You know, it's right next to where I work..." Then my voice cut out abruptly as my brain caught up with what I was saying...and suddenly I couldn't breathe for a moment..."I mean 'used to work'," I concluded when I was able to speak again.
Now that it's truly sunk in at last, it's weird to think that I'm unemployed. And that I don't really have any kind of "vision" about what's next or where to go from here. (I know: how very unlike me! That in itself is a tad frightening...) It may turn out to be merely a...hmm..."rest stop" on the...highway of... gainful-employment? Or it could signal a more significant fork in the road, necessitating a choice...or a brand new map...or fresh GPS coordinates...or directions from a cooperative bystander...who knows? While I don't consider myself "lost" just yet, I may be looking for "the next big thing" in the near future. Wheeeee, off we go!
Inspiration came from someone (a total stranger, oddly...and fortuitously...enough) suggesting to me that I try getting hired as a sign-language interpreter, since I'd had experience with ASL during both my undergrad and graduate education. So I contacted a local community college to set up an interview...confessing sheepishly that I'd need to bring along my then-16-month-old, since I hadn't arranged any kind of babysitting for him yet. The woman who met with me was warm, friendly, and delightful in every way...and I believe also sympathetic, since she herself was about 7-months pregnant at the time! As I remember it, Derek sat quietly in the corner and colored, while we conducted our "adult business". And although I told the lady very honestly that I was rusty...and extremely nervous...she ended up offering me a job anyway (bless her little pea-pickin' heart).
I was elated...exhilarated...energized by my new opportunity! And so I set off to work on Day One, ready to take on any and all challenges (such as my first assignment: interpreting a college-level Spanish class...for a Deaf student...into ASL--yeah, if that doesn't make your head explode, NOTHING will...) It was September 11, 2001. I dropped off my toddler for his initial foray into the perilous world of in-home daycare. Let's just say...he did not take it well--full-on screaming, sobbing, separation-anxiety tantrum. Yeah, I was a mess when I fled the scene. And that was of course before I heard the initial reports out of New York, as I was listening to the radio on my commute. Obviously it was a first-day-on-the-job that I will never forget.
Flash forward through almost 13 years, all of which I spent enjoying part-time employment at that very same institution of higher learning...that is, until a few weeks ago. When the Spring Semester came to a close, so did my tenure at the college. At first, the fact barely registered. I mean, we have breaks all the time, for holidays and Summer and whatnot, so it felt perfectly normal to not be putting on my grown-up clothes and motoring off to campus. But then, silly little things began creeping into my consciousness and reminding me that my life had changed...like when I realized I could take down the hang-tag from my rearview mirror (the one that lets me park in the privileged "Faculty" section). It had been a fixture in my peripheral vision since I obtained it my very first day at the school. Then I was explaining to a friend about the carwash I prefer, "You know, it's right next to where I work..." Then my voice cut out abruptly as my brain caught up with what I was saying...and suddenly I couldn't breathe for a moment..."I mean 'used to work'," I concluded when I was able to speak again.
Now that it's truly sunk in at last, it's weird to think that I'm unemployed. And that I don't really have any kind of "vision" about what's next or where to go from here. (I know: how very unlike me! That in itself is a tad frightening...) It may turn out to be merely a...hmm..."rest stop" on the...highway of... gainful-employment? Or it could signal a more significant fork in the road, necessitating a choice...or a brand new map...or fresh GPS coordinates...or directions from a cooperative bystander...who knows? While I don't consider myself "lost" just yet, I may be looking for "the next big thing" in the near future. Wheeeee, off we go!
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