#tenyearsdunne

Like it was just yesterday. I still remember you on one knee at Manchester Airport (if you want me to say yes to something, asking when I'm jet-lagged and just getting off an 8 hr flight is a good time to ask), and I remember Louise looking concerned that I might have said no when we got to the car. I can still feel the loose buckle on my left shoe that made my leg wobble throughout the ceremony. I can still taste that first sip of Yorks Tea at the reception. 

How are we ten years older in the picture on the right than we were in the one on the left? How have we had ten Christmases and Easters and moved house twice and country twice? How has our house been home to seven dogs and a cat in that space of time? Didn't I just arrive at Heathrow and have my visa stamped? Wasn't it just a few minutes ago when we drove to Atlanta to get my biometrics done, or to Berea to sort out your social security? I'm certain it was only a week or so ago, maybe a month, that I picked you up at Hartsfield right after you collected me at Manchester when we were basically living at various airports and train stations. Wasn't it?

I'm so grateful for the macaroni and cheese, the shared nerdiness, the willingness to put up with my shenanigans, the flashlights bought for me to take to faire, the resolve to get up when the girls are howling so that I can lie in, the whispered, "love you, bye" when I think I've managed to get out the door without waking you, the love of travel and history, the debates over whatever has just been said on telly, the ability not to laugh in my face when I think I'm speaking Yorkshire, the shared love of Greenville, the support and encouragement to be a writer, the shared - and different - expat experience, and all the other things that I have been given over the past ten years that I most certainly did not and do not deserve. 

Ten years done and dusted, and as many more as I can get to come. Love you to absolute bits, Simon.

Corsets and moving vans and nephews and Nano...oh myyyy...

Random acts of Silly doth abound in Fairhaven...

(You should absolutely read that Oh My in the way that George Takei says it.  In fact, every time anyone says Oh My it should be using his voice.  Every. Time.)

So it's been awhile and I've promised time and again to blog about the honeymoon, the European extravaganza that was the months of May and June for me and The Mister.  This isn't going to be that post either, so if you've been waiting for that, you might as well keep surfing.

It's currently the end of October which means the Carolina Renaissance Festival has been in full swing for four weekends now, leaving only three to go before we sadly pack up the Dog Barn for another year and start madly plotting our garb for our trip to the "Southern Kingdom" of Newcastle in Georgia in the spring of next year.  But wait, that's not all that's going on...I'm still working on getting my soon to be former roommates decked out in garb of their own (a court gown to be done by this coming Saturday as well as a doublet!  I must be MAD.), moving into a new house, and starting a NaNoWriMo on Thursday.  Mad indeed!

We thought that it would be easy to do when we started this sewing project back in August (nevermind that I was doing a Camp NaNo then as well).  We planned to do the parts of the gowns at the same time and finish them both before Opening Weekend so that we didn't have to worry.  Ah, the best laid plans...

My gown is mostly done, as you can see in the photo above.  There are some bits that need finishing and WHO KNEW that thing would be as HEAVY as it is, but there you are.  Beauty is pain.  I had a little girl curtsy to me yesterday because she thought I was royalty ("your dress looks like the queen's!") so I guess it's all worth it.  Out of the mouths of babes...if ONLY my garb looked like Bettina's work!

Anyway, so mine is almost done and will have to be re-done before next year.  The sleeves are the heaviest part and will have to be grommetted in so that I can removed them before performing mundane tasks such as going to the privy or picking up poop or...amazingly enough...putting on my cloak!  It was like I was holding two persian cats under there.  Not good.

We've almost completed our move into the new house.  As I type, The Mister is wrestling with putting up blinds and unwrapping/setting up IKEA bookshelves.  It never ceases to amaze me the size difference in our furniture in our American house as opposed to our English one.  Where are my "huge" leather sofas?

Over the weekend my brother in law Andrew and his...partner?  Girlfriend?  I'm not sure the appropriate term, but they had a little boy, the first grandson/nephew for the Dunnes.  I'm hoping to see photos soon, and I need to get on the ball and email my niece, the new kid's big sister, to check in on her.  Being a big sister is not always as glamorous as it looks, and I want her to know that Auntie Nancy has been there/done that and would love to listen if she needs to discuss the finer points of siblings.

Finally...Nano starts on Thursday and I think it's going to be EQ fanfic for me again.  My hope is that all of this writing I grind out in November (as well as the past Nanos that have been on the same theme) can one day be edited to remove anything that the EQ head honchos may think is actually their property and made into a fantasy novel that can be published and read by people other than me and my sometimes muse, Mike (who brought one of the main characters to virtual life in game for years).

Yeah, so...that's what's going on here.  Not much, really, in the grand scheme of starvation and war and Hurricane Sandy, I suppose.  But enough.  You hear me universe?  I've got enough for now.

Oh myyyy indeed.

Lions and...yeah, you know the rest

Tower of London, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

I don't have much to say today, and clearly haven't all summer, if you go by my blog here! I'm formulating a "catch-up" post about what has happened since returning from Europe, Simon moving to the US, and our seemingly never ending search for a house in Greenville. In the meantime, please enjoy these lions made of wire and mesh that grace the front of the Tower of London.

Hey, at least it isn't a bunny with a pancake on its head...

Seriously.

Seriously., a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

I need for all the crazy to stop, please?
I need to be able to go to work and not get my back up before I even walk in the door.
 I need for this insane pulled muscle under my left shoulder blade to GIVE IT A REST ALREADY!
I need for a rental house with a fenced yard and no defects and the ability to lease for 3 months to materialize in Greenville proper or I'm going to end up in an outlying area and be VERY VERY cross.
I need a vacation.
I need the Loco to Stop.

Again, for Cathie and Leah...

Daisy in Orange, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

...I've got my blogging face on! Well, I had it on last Thursday, as well as my Sad Dog Owner face AND my I'm Trying to Avoid Homicide face.

Daisy came back "home" to the US last Thursday. She flew all by her little self from Manchester, England, to Atlanta, Georgia. Simon and I made arrangements via a pet relocation service to get her on her way, and we were assured of a certain number of things upon handing over almost $1600 to them.

On the day, everything started well and Simon and his dad got Daisy to the airport and checked in on time. She was xrayed and then sent on her way, and apparently her flight was fine and she actually got to Atlanta 10 minutes ahead of schedule.

My friend Joanne and I headed down to pick her up. We were told by the relocation folks in England that all I would have to do is turn up at the Air Cargo warehouse, pay my import fee of $50, present them with an airbill number, and they would then hand Daisy over to me. That is not exactly what happened.

The very very very nice man at the warehouse told me that while Daisy was on the ground and on her way to the warehouse, I wasn't going to be able to collect her that night because she'd arrived too close to the time that the customs officers at the warehouse leave for the day. I assured him that we'd been told that they were there 24-7. He assured me with a very sad look on his face that they left at 5 every day, and any animals that arrived too close to that deadline would be taken to a nearby kennel for the night and their owners could collect them. I told him that we hadn't sent any food with her and he said they would feed her. I told him that we feed her raw and further we'd paid a lot of money to get her on that flight and I was not leaving without her. He looked like he was going to cry but told me he couldn't do anything. I went in the bathroom, cried a little, swore a lot, and then got on the phone to Delta.

Oh, easy, the lovely representative I spoke with said. You get her paperwork from them, take it to customs in the actual airport, they will approve it, and then you bring it back. I told the guy that, he grinned and got to work on her paperwork. He asked if I knew where to go, and I said that all she had told me was "customs."

All of you who fly regularly...where is customs in an airport? Yep, you got it, inside the secure area where you need a boarding pass to get through. A boarding pass assumes that you are BOARDING a flight. See a problem yet?

I got to the airport and NO ONE could tell me where I needed to go to get a gate pass to get through to customs. I spent an hour just finding out that I had to go on my own to find a TSA agent to get a gate pass. Only, that's NOT what I had to do at all, I needed to go to DELTA to get a gate pass (where I started, an hour prior). There is something about telling a ticketing agent that TSA sent you that makes them very snarky, just so you know before you try it. Finally, I had my gate pass and I was going through security.

One full body scan later, I was on the train under the airport to the concourse at the complete other end of the airport for international arrivals/departures and customs. I spent most of hour two since leaving the warehouse getting to that concourse and then sitting while the customs agent checked her paperwork and finally stamped it. Back through security (thankfully no full body scan this time), back on the train, back to the car and by 8:40pm we were waiting on them to wheel Daisy's crate out. For those keeping score, that was four hours after she arrived in Atlanta, and a whopping EIGHTEEN hours after she was put in her crate at Manchester Airport.

My baby girl hadn't made a single mess in her crate. Bless. I was so happy to see her that I just sat there and held her for a minute, big stupid tears rolling as she wiggled to get away from me and glare back at her box. And now she's here, she's learning about being one of five dogs in a house instead of the only one, and she's taking most of it in stride. I think I've seen her snarl more in the past two days than I have since I've had her.

A strongly worded complaint will be issued to Delta because that was just unacceptable. Not only did the right hand not know what the left hand was doing, but I don't think it knew there WAS a left hand.

There is a positive, though...Simon's visa was approved at his interview a week ago today, and on this past Friday he got his passport and the Mysterious Brown Sealed Envelope that he has to take AS IS to customs when he arrives in the States to stay.

Well...to stay until I've had it with my life here and feel that old need to move on...but hopefully that won't be for a long time yet.

Spring...in February?

My Mommy is a geek. Seriously., a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

I went across the way today to grab lunch at the student center and was struck by how WARM it is. WARM, y'all. Like open the sun roof and put Kid Rock on the radio, warm. Like I can't believe this time last year I was freezing, warm!

I was reminded in that short walk of one of the reasons why I wanted to move our family to the United States. While there are many, MANY lovely things about the UK and England in particular, and I do miss parts of it every single day...the weather is not one of those things.

61F in February. 16C. That's the great British Summer if you live up north like I did. I had to TAKE OFF MY SCARF outdoors because I was TOO HOT. (I didn't even bring a coat today!)

Oh, and in other news...she's coming home. Very soon. Like next week soon if at all possible. And then she can think I'm a dork and a geek and whatever all in person, and it will be okay, because she will be HERE. With ME. Mei Mei. Life might be starting to get a little bit...good?

I don't think I can jinx this...

An American Greyhound in Yorkshire Cover, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

My little girl, my psycho puppy, my sweet Mei Mei who has gone so native she's forgotten that cookie means biscuit...is coming home to me and Clown VERY VERY soon!

I'm not mentioning anything else because I've already jinxed that once, and we didn't bury St. Joseph in the backyard yet. Mainly because we don't have a backyard, and we'd have to bury him upside down in a plant pot. And then the plant pot would get sold and .... yeah, I wasn't going to mention that, was I?

Coming soon to an airport near me...FTH Oopsie Daisy, world traveler and my baby girl. I might even get her some choccie bikkies to celebrate.

You Days of Our Lives Jinxed It, Didn't You?

Mommy, did you say GO?, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

If you are not familiar with the Days of Our Lives Jinx phenomenon, let me briefly explain. I watched Days from the time I was in pre-school until about four years ago, so I consider myself somewhat of a home-grown expert on soap opera plot construction, at least for American soaps. I also should mention that I just did the math on that, and I spent an incredibly HUGE chunk of my life in the fictional town of Salem...and I'm not sure whether I'm impressed by my own loyalty or horrified that I've just admitted that in public.

Right, so on to the Jinx: You can always tell on Days that a major plot twist is coming when a character utters something in terms of absolutes. I'll give you an example. "Nothing can ever come between us again!" is the signal that the third member of the love triangle is about to arrive in town. "Your prognosis is beyond excellent and I'm sending you home today!" means that this character will be in hospice by the holidays. That sort of thing is the Jinx, and I have a hard time avoiding it in my real, non-soap life.

I seem to have done it again, on a grand scale. Remember that post before, about how we had sold our house? The buyer backed out. So, all of that "we are on the path to happiness" business of last week is now replaced with "hello, Square One, fancy meeting you here, AGAIN."

I chose today's picture because it's a visual reminder of the Days of Our Lives Jinx which is loosely related to the adage about counting chickens too early...and because it's my Hunky Man, whom I miss desperately. Ugh. I need a do-over.

SOLD! Almost...

Top of the World...well, okay, the Moor..., a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

Yep, after almost four years of waiting and tidying and waiting and chasing down estate agents for feedback someone wants to buy our house.

Let me say that again, because I'm not sure I believe it yet... SOMEONE WANTS TO BUY OUR HOUSE IN KEIGHLEY!

I'm not sure how I feel. I'm overwhelmed and overjoyed and when you add in that I'm probably overtired I find myself to be a little bit...sad. Yep, as much as I used to scream that I hated that house, I'm sad. It was our first house after we were married. It was the house where I stayed the first time I came to visit Hubs.

But at the same time, everything is coming together in a way that I admit I never thought it would. Hubs has his interview at the end of February, almost a month from today. The buyer wants to take possession of the house in four weeks. I may very well be picking Daisy up from Atlanta in less time than that. It's all more than I ever thought would happen.

Now to find a place to live so that the four of us aren't continuing to squat in Anne and Damian's house...

Hey, did I mention I'm now working at Clemson University? No? Oops. Next blog post. Swear.

Changing Templates...again...

pretending to be audrey hepburn NYC 1997, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

So I typed out a fabulously pithy post this morning about changing templates here at the Lettuce and in my own life, and, as is the way with marvelous prose that I've created, the Universe ate it. I think it might have belched afterward and asked for a mint.

The gist was that I've been thinking a lot about changing the template, if you will, of my life and starting with something new that looks and feels different, and this morning I was totally on board with that idea. By tonight, though, after loads of fighting with Flickr and Blogger and my own Old Lady Brain, I'm thinking maybe familiar is best. Give me a few days, I will have changed templates a dozen times.

The picture over there was taken at Tiffany's in NYC on my Spring Break trip in 1997. I was still single, still in love with Audrey Hepburn and acting and the theatre. I had been to the UK for six weeks two years prior and it had changed my life. I didn't have any greyhounds or an English husband or an ex-husband or any of that. I was just me, that version of me...that template.

Is there a limit on how many times you can change a template out? Hope not.

Forward Motion...

Clown Reaches the Beach
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

So if you care to find me...look to the Western sky...as someone told me lately: "Everyone deserves a chance to fly..."

(lyrics from "Defying Gravity" from the musical "WICKED." Or from Glee. Take your pick.)

Well, I can't say too much, loyal Lettuce-Heads, because what you put out on the "tinterweb" is permanent and forever, but my situation is in a bit of flux at the moment.

I know! Again! Right?

Changes are afoot, and my situation has gone from semi-almost-stable to completely on the other foot in a matter of a week. But never fear, I think the impending change is a good one, and I'm crossing everything I can that all turns out as it should.

Confused? Yeah, me too. But I find that when things get weird, I can just look at that beautiful boy in the photo there and things will get all right-ish riteawayquik. Well, for now I'm just looking at a photo of him, but tomorrow night I'll get to start a whole weekend of Clown Goodness, and that's definitely got me smiling.

Don't worry, those five or six of you that are now on tenterhooks to know what the change is and what is coming up next for those of us here at the Lettuce. Your wait will not be long nor in vain. In the meantime, though, here's something to bounce around and label me insane for: Next month is a new Nanowrimo, and I'm itching to get started!

Catch you guys after the CRF opening weekend...come see us if you're in the area!

From the Inside, Looking Out This Time

in the labyrinth at chatsworth house
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

The days are counted. The boxes are being filled...okay, really, they're being mentally filled and the clothes are being mentally sorted and so forth and so on. My first expat experience is coming to an end very very soon, and a month from today I will be watching the Eurovision finals and thinking about my impending flight back to the US.

I'm happy about the move. I want to get back to my career and my life in the US. I want to be closer to my family. I want to start making up for the missed time in my now two year old niece's life. I want to get back to me, and be the person that my husband fell in love with and married. I don't think she's been around in a long time.

That said, there is a large part of me that doesn't want to leave. I don't like change, but then who does. I feel like I'm giving up, but I'm really not I suppose. I gave living in Keighley a go, and while there have been some lovely bits it just wasn't the right fit.

Will I ever find the right fit? I don't know. I'm going back to be a freelancer rather than a staff interpreter. I'm going back to be Joy's Auntsy, rather than just Susan's sister. I'm going back to be a member of the Hounds of East Fairhaven, rather than the director. In a lot of ways, I'm going back to just blend in rather than be in charge and stand out...and that's pretty fabulous I think.

The photo above is from my first ever foray into the United Kingdom, back in 1995 when I lived in Scunthorpe for six weeks. I remember leaving at the end, not knowing if I'd ever be back to this tiny island, but being thrilled beyond belief to be going back to my life. This time I don't have a "my life" to go back to, exactly, but I'm thrilled beyond belief to be going home and to have the opportunity to show my husband what real life in America is like.

Soon and very soon. How odd it will be to look back at the UK and not belong here anymore. Maybe this time I'll find out where I really do belong.

Playing Catch Up, but not on Channel Four

Well, I'm here now, in the UK. It's really amazing to me to think that I've only been here 5 days. In a lot of ways it feels like I've been here for ages. I got here on 8 April after a lovely flight over the Atlantic. Thanks much to Dave and Susan for the upgrade to World Traveller Plus on BA! I had a bigger seat which was also a bulkhead seat, and because there weren't many people in that class I didn't have anyone next to me. I think I slept the best I have on a trans-atlantic flight in a long time (without medication).

London Heathrow's new Terminal 5 is amazing...if you like posh shopping malls. I never found the Krispy Kreme, sadly, because I was spending all my time looking for my gate to pop up on the monitor and reading...and sitting. My laptop weighs a ton, and I was honestly tired of having it in the backpack on my back.

The flight to Manchester was loud but mercifully short. The only challenge left at that point was to collect all my luggage. When I left Atlanta I had four other adults to help bring my four checked bags and two carry-ons to the desk to check. In Manchester I was on my own until I got outside of the security area where I was to meet Simon and Louise.

Thank heavens for those carts that you can stack a million bags on top of and they still will not tip over.

Honestly everything from Wednesday afternoon until Friday was a bit of a blur. We got back to Simon's house and I checked on Jeany to see if she needed to see a vet. It turned out that she did, so we made an appointment and took her in to Aireworth Vets. The short story is that she'd suffered some pretty serious damage when she fell down the stairs, but in typical greyhound fashion had remained stoic throughout. We lost her Friday afternoon when it was found that her injuries couldn't be repaired and it was more kind to let her go.

Saturday and Sunday were supposed to be Settle In and Unpack days, but in truth I think that the jet lag and the grief over losing Jeany finally hit me and I did more sleeping than anything. I took a harried trip to the emergency vet with Hunky Saturday night because he had a little blood in his urine. Turned out that he has a UTI, very treatable. Last night we went out to Haworth with some friends of Simon's, which was a nice distraction from all that's been going on since I got here.

So, it's Monday, and the objective is to get the bedroom tidied and my things put in some sort of order...or maybe I'll just go back to bed.

I'm going...somewhere...

TO KEIGHLEY...

From my email box today...

Your visa has been issued.

Wow. WOW! That's it...UK here I come...

Visa Photos, Take One...

So I head out to put my visa application in the mail, planning a stop at Walgreen's to get my photo done. I'd been trying all day to do it myself because I'm cheap, but it's incredibly difficult to set up the camera exactly right so that you get just your head and shoulders and not this:


(I was on the phone to Simon, who was looking up the regs for the photo for me.)

Or this:


(Ignore the state of the bed, I seem to create a playground for the girls to NEST in if I ever try to make it properly...)

Or my very favorite, titled "How on EARTH could I not see that I was that FAR out of the center of the lens?"



I got to Walgreens shortly after four, thinking it would be easy in and out. WRONG. I was to be thwarted in my plan by a Certified Photo Technician Manager type who clearly had an imbalance in his green teeth/acne to authority-given-by-the-store ratio. Ten minutes after I'd told him what I needed, he had the background set up (it pulls down out of the top of one of the rows, not tough), had found the camera used to take passport photos, and was ready for me to sit down. Another ten minutes and we had the picture taken. I wish I was exaggerating.

We then went to the machine that makes the picture into a passport photo. He's clicking along through the screens and ended up on one that says "What type of document is this photo for?" or something like that (with considerably better grammar, of course). Doogie (as I'm choosing to call him) scrolls down and clicks US Passport. Now during the 20 minutes it took for set up and photography I've told him at least three times that this is for a VISA for the UNITED KINGDOM and not a US Passport.

Me: Sorry, did you just click US?
Doogie: Yep.
Me: But this is for a UK Visa, could you click UK?
Doogie: It's the same.
Me: Well, I'd feel better if you clicked UK then.
Doogie: Well, I don't know how to do the UK one so I'm using the US one.
Me: I thought you said it was the same?
Doogie: Well, it is, (here's the important part) but it's bigger on the screen, the head is, and I don't know how to arrange it, so we're gonna use the US one.

(I feel it is important to mention here that I have read, re-read and re-read AGAIN the regs for the visa, the photo, the PETS Scheme to get the animals into the UK, and even the weight and size limits on baggage over the past year and I can probably quote the UK Border Agency Home Office's opinion on all of them if needed.)

Me: You mean the aspect ratio is different? It is, you're right, so can we switch to UK?
Doogie: It's all about the same, we'll just use the US one.
Me: Okay, so when I send this in and they reject it because the photo isn't right, I can just bring these back and get new ones done properly for free, yeah?
Doogie: Well duh. Hey, do you know anything about computers?
Me: What?
Doogie: I'm a computer tech, right, and they're expecting me to use a DOS machine. This store sucks.

He hit continue and then nothing happened. We stood there a few minutes and finally I asked if they would be ready to be picked up any time soon. He said yes, they were printing right now. I had to get away from him before I hit him and so I went to pick up something I needed elsewhere in the store and came back. Doogie was gone, so I stared down another employee until she asked if I needed anything. I said that I was waiting on my passport photos. Doogie, who clearly has superhuman hearing, shouted "Oh, is SHE back already?"

Finally he printed them and then...after I've been in the store for 45 minutes...says "Oh, these aren't right."

Sorry? What?

There was a teeny bluish haze around my shoulders. I told him it was fine, they won't care, it's not the same as if I had a plant behind me, can I please have my photos so I can go? He started ringing me up but kept grumbling about the blue and how they may not accept it (apparently setting it for US when it's UK doesn't matter, but a faint blue in the background will grind the process to a halt).

Me: Look, it will be fine, I did my own photo for my American passport and they took it.
Doogie: What do you mean you did your own?
Me: I mean I took it with my own camera, printed it at home, cut it to size and sent it in.
Doogie: You mean they took that when it didn't come from a professional?
Me: (deciding that I didn't like his tone and whipping out my passport to show him) They sure did.
Doogie: (shoves the bag at me) Have a great night, ma'am.

I know, I should have called a manager when he first refused to change it to UK...Needless to say, I didn't make it to the post office before it closed.

For those keeping score...

Simon called Fulton County yesterday to check on the marriage license. After a most definite run around, he finally got someone that told him that we were being "put into the system this week" and the license would go out in the mail this week.

This week. Almost one full month after the wedding.

Once I get that back and get a certified copy of my birth certificate, I can send in the visa paperwork and then wait. Simon and I have a few things to get printed off and certified today like a copy of his passport and some bank statements to add to the stack of STUFF that has to be sent in to New York.

Simon leaves to go back to the UK tomorrow and I stay here and wait.

I'm not good at waiting. Stay tuned for further hysterics.

Not Really News

I am officially...

...tired (of the psych hospital...of the drive TO the psych hospital...of having a dirty house and no motivation nor energy to clean it).

...frustrated (the perfect job comes available for me and I can't take it because of my upcoming trip to the UK...and the fact that it doesn't carry benefits).

...lonely for Simon (it's now been over four months since I've seen him).

...achy (muscles I didn't know I had in my neck feel like concrete).

...ready for it to be January and the chips to fall where they may...ready to move to wherever, find a job wherever...just ready to be past all this bloody ridiculous and counter-productive waiting and anxiety. It's hard to get anything done when your emotions are so raw that you are quite literally reluctant to open your mouth for fear of either snapping or weeping. Most unattractive.

Oh, and just in case anyone is wondering, I know that I'll be leaving my family in the US to move to England, I know that the sign language is different there so I can't work, and I know that despite the fact that I'm clearly quite selfish I'm also positively rubbish at saving money for myself and we're most likely going to starve. Thanks for wanting to remind me, though. Seriously. The support means everything.

Hang on, my tongue seems to be lodged in my cheek. There, that's better.

I'm going to go crawl under my ratty old Ikea duvet and hide until 6:30am tomorrow when I get to do it all again. Hoo-friggin-rah.

Gone, Daddy, Gone, the house is Gone

My apologies to both the Femmes and Gnarls Barkley...

It occurred to me this past weekend that The Other House is now the property of the Guy From Out Of Town that couldn't wait till December to move in and caused me to have to move down the street for six months. I hope that he is enjoying the slightly drafty windows and the mice as much as I'm enjoying my new place...complete with a staircase that would make the machines at the gym shrink back in awe and a backyard that my dogs can actually RUN in, rather than just spin in circles while trying to avoid the concrete and the oddly placed Sandy Spot.

We're doing well so far, living one block down the road. The dry cleaner next door is an absolute pill, but other than that it's not so bad. Seriously, who needs their clothes drycleaned at 11pm on a weeknight, and if it's just what they do as a business why is it only on certain nights? Do they have my house bugged so that they will know when I am having yet another fit of insomnia which causes even the slightest noise to bring me back WIDE AWAKE? I ask because the noise coming out of their building isn't slight. Seriously, who needs LOUD machinery in a METAL building in this day and age? My favorite part, though, of living next to them has got to be the fellows that blow all of the garbage and leaves out of their parking lot INTO MY YARD at 8am every Monday morning. Seriously. The smell of the gasoline from the blowers is intoxicating.

Mills has adjusted to the new house...he now runs the Feline 500 up and down the stairs rather than by running from the office to the kitchen and ending up clinging to the side of my bed like a tiny furry mountain climber. I just wish he wouldn't do it at 4am because it makes me think Hunky has taken the fast track to the downstairs. And I wonder why I can't sleep?

The Traveling Wilburys...err...Lassiters...err...

Here's a quick summary of the past three weeks of our lives.

4th-6th June

Took time off work to pack and get ready to move, hoping the movers would be available on Friday, 6 June. Wrong. Book them for Saturday, 7 June instead. Took my time doing anything, really, that resembled packing/cleaning until late on Thursday, 5 June when I realized that my parents would be arriving the next morning.

7th June

Movers arrive on time. All goes well until they try to get my sofa, chair, and refrigerator in the house. After much prodding, struggling, and some disassembly, all three items are in place and movers leave. Mom and Dad hang around for a bit and then head home.

(And from the files of this ONLY happens in my family, they were hit by a bear on their way home...at least that's how Mom tells it. Poor BMW. Poor Bear.)

8th June

Sorted out what's left of what is now referred to as "The Other House." Cleaned the front of the house. Stacked all that's left to be moved (from the front rooms) in the sitting room by the door and vacuum. Looked despairingly at the rec room and headed to "my house" to plug in the cable box and modem and watch TV/surf the net/play Everquest in an attempt to forget about said rec room.

(Did I mention that when I called Charter to transfer my service I found out that the folks that lived here before me never cancelled their service when they moved and I therefore had to wait till I could provide proof that I lived here - a lease - before they would transfer it? Did I also mention that I was advised BY CHARTER to go on and use the connections that were still live in the house until it could get transferred because it was already paid up in full? No? Ah. My bad.)

Plugged in cable box...waited for 12:00 to magically switch to the time. Waited a little longer. Wonderedwhy the box says 105 (BBC America, natch) but nothing is happening on the screen. Found cable wires all over the house and started attaching them one by one to the modem. Wondered why nothing is happening. Called Charter.

Discovered that a. the family that was here before didn't use Charter for television, hence the black screen on the telly-box and b. that there was at least ONE live connection for the internet somewhere in the house. I just had to find it. Further discovered that when the first Charter employee told me that all I had to do was be at the house when the tech showed up, lease in hand to prove occupancy...well, the nice way to put what he said was that she was wrong. Canceled that appointment...which was a mistake. (Found out later that because it was canceled I now have to start all over with a very long visit to the local Charter office...but thanks to a lovely employee called Maria I'm set for this coming Friday to have my TV and internet back.)

Found hot line for modem. Logged into email and Everquest and happy happy happy. Slept downstairs on the sofa with the dogs around me wondering if this was all going to turn out to be a mistake.

9th- 13th June

Have you ever had to go to work AND try to live out of two houses AND try to move out of one into the other all at the same time with NO television to keep you sane? If not, all you need to know is this...I got a lot of use out of "Oh what FRESH HELL is this?" that week (thank you Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory, Episode "The Dumpling Paradox")...including a trip to Orangeburg, SC, for work that turned out to be a no-show appointment. Boo-YAH.

14th June

Saturday came and went and was largely uneventful. Had a visit from a friend in town on greyhound business. It was not until later on Saturday that I found that my best friend Leah had fallen and broken her ankle. She was in the hospital and would have to have surgery. Kick my anxiety level on up another notch, will ya? Not quite high enough. That news colored everything that came after.

15th June-Father's Day

Plan: Go to Georgia, arriving 1:30. Have lunch with parents, visit, return home.
Actual events: Receive phone call that house will be shown at 4pm that day even though I didn't have 24hrs notice and I had no way to get the animals out of the house prior. Spend day trying to be happy and celebrate with my dad but internally churn up enough anxiety to drive me inpatient, convinced that my house was being sold out from under me and that I'd have to move AGAIN. Return home, receive lease and reassuring email from landlord that I'm safe here till December. Much Everquest ensued.

Yesterday and today have been pretty normal workdays. Leah came through her surgery about forty pounds heavier in the foot (steel plate, etc) but otherwise fine. No more fresh hell, at least not for the time being. I got to see the mid season finale of Battlestar Galactica on You Tube. I will say, though, that I may have put myself off The Big Bang Theory by the time I get television up and running on Friday...I've watched the same few episodes several times and can quote "The Dumpling Paradox" episode.

"Hey Sheldon, you forgot something!"
"What?"
"This plasma grenade. Looook! It's raining you!!"

It's been...one week...

Not really, it's actually only been three days since I last posted, but I somehow have that BNL song in my head this morning. Perhaps it's because in one week I will be living out of boxes and ready to move down the street.

I don't like chaos. I don't like flux. I don't even like spontaneity, truth be told. I know why...I moved a lot when I was growing up and I never really felt like I belonged anywhere. Once you started to sprout and sink roots they were yanked up and moved to the next patch of soil. Some people compensate for that by learning to love adventure. Me? I learned to yearn for the "after the move" time.

Like now. I can't wait until this time next year in some respects. This time next year I will wake up every morning and see Simon in person, not in 2-D on my laptop screen. This time next year I will be married and moved and hopefully planning visits from my American friends. We will have a house that I won't have to leave in 6-9 months. I will be settled.

But you know, you can't ever really say that, can you? What is settled, but saving up energy for the next change in your life? The one thing I can say for sure is that this time next year I will be spending a lot of time in front of the laptop screen again...but this time I will be talking to my new niece or nephew...because I can finally say here at the Lettuce that my sister is pregnant! And I, for one, can't wait to meet the newest Allen Grady.

Got my wedding dress on Monday so that's one thing ticked off the list. Oh, two things actually, because the electricity will be transfered to the new house next Friday. Now to take care of the water, gas, and mail delivery...notify my bank...notify all my two credit cards...and hope I haven't forgotten anything.

Leap...and the net will appear. I just hope it doesn't have a hole in it.