Monday, June 30, 2008

fields of reefer

I don’t really have much to say today. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep (four hours…I didn’t fall asleep until after four). Maybe it’s the anxiety about…everything.

I guess I just want to say “goodbye June, hello July.” July: the month of our family vacation (which we didn’t take last year due to horrendous lack of funds), the month of Indie’s visit, the month of our friends’ wedding (less than three full weeks now), the month of our own fifth wedding anniversary.

Although five years is really such a short amount of time – those of you who have been married much longer probably think of us as infants (well, maybe toddlers) in the world of marriages – I still feel like we’ve been through a lifetime’s worth of experiences together. Maybe this is because I’ve spent almost my entire adult life with Cardo.

Sometimes I feel like, after seven years of being together and about six of living together, we should have each other figured out. We should have us figured out. Now, I know that all relationships take constant work, but I’m still continually amazed to learn new things about Cardo, about us, about myself. Recently, I’ve realized that I need social interaction with my friends and he just doesn’t seem to need any beyond work and family. I’ve also realized that he’s much more accepting of me than I thought any person would ever be able to be. He’s probably come to learn that I’m much crazier than he ever thought I’d be. Such is the trade-off in life.

I never thought that this relationship stuff was going to be easy. I saw my parents argue. I’ve seen other couples argue. Recently, a friend used the metaphor that marriages are like gardens that we have to continually weed. (Of course, I thought she said, “Marriages are our weed.” Does anyone even use the word “weed”?)

So, anyway, I have no idea how this devolved into a freewrite about my marriage. Hmmm.

So, hello July.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

pack rat

Among the items that have moved with me since high school. I've finally started to let go...except, I kept the lady in green. (The second picture is incredibly dark, but it's the tag that came with my competition swim suit when I was on swim team in high school. Obviously a treasure to be valued for almost a decade.)

Monday, June 23, 2008


Lately, I’ve been giving a lot of my life a closer look. Okay, so “lately” isn’t exactly the most accurate term. I’m always over-analyzing my life.

Anyhow, lately what I’ve been obsessing over is this desire I have to settle down already. I thought that at twenty-seven, I’d still feel so young, I’d still feel like there were so many opportunities open to me. And, I do…sometimes. It’s just when I focus on the next five to seven years of my life that are going to be devoted to PhD and the next three to five or more that are going to be devoted to finding a forever job that I start to get panicky. I feel trapped, suffocated. I keep asking myself, “Is this still what I really want?” and I don’t know that the answer is yes. The problem (one of them, at least) is that this is all I’m trained for. I have a Bachelors in English Literature. In a year, I hope to have a Masters in the same. I refuse to go back to serving and the only thing I’ve ever done aside from that is retail.

Since I was three, I wanted to be a teacher. I still believe that that is what I really want…or at least I think I do. I just don’t know that I’m emotionally and mentally capable of attaining that goal. Sometimes, now, I feel like I just want to disappear, become a recluse and somehow survive in this place I’ve crafted for myself.

I’m just starting to settle down here, form a community, a tiny little community, I feel comfortable with. Of course, because my community consists of people very much like me, many with similar goals, this community is fluid and I can’t bottle it. People have already moved and will be moving and, soon, I’ll be picking up again and settling down in some new and scary place.

And that’s the thing. I’m so afraid of everything. I’m afraid of creating new connections, but once I form them, I’m afraid of severing them. I’m afraid that maybe I’m just not really cut out for this. I’m afraid that one day Cardo will see that I’m so full of this fear to really live and take chances that he will grow tired of me and my timidity. And, I’m afraid that I will never allow myself to feel fulfilled, satisfied by my life and the choices I make, and avoid, in it.

And, I wonder if others have these feelings of self-doubt also, but I’m afraid to ask because if the answer is no, I’m not sure where to go from there.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

picture pages

a bakery in Seattle

moving is fun

my temporary wedding ring

Saturday, June 21, 2008

glorious books

I just notice that Ms J has added a 'reading queue' to her blog! I'm super excited about this. I'm always interested in what others are reading. Thanks to Ms J and Poke for sharing their reads. I'm open to suggestions from anyone else, anytime. Happy reading!

Friday, June 20, 2008


It's late and I'm getting tired. I still have plenty of laundry to dry and fold and then I'll probably read a bit before I go to bed. I just wanted to share a few things before I headed off with the b-52s to dreamland.

First of all: a big Congratulations to Ms S who just received news that she was accepted to a Masters program at Kings College in London! Best of luck next (school) year.

Tuesday night was Pajama Night at the library. This is one of Pic's favorite events. During storytime on Tuesday morning, Pic informed me that she didn't want to attend Pajama Night, but when Ms Judy asked her if she was coming, she said "Yes!" Of course. As Pic and I were about to head off for our walk to the library, I sent her upstairs to find her pajamas. After a few minutes, she called down to me, "I found my vagina!" She paused a moment and then called down, "I found my...pajamas!" Yeah, I thought so.

We are on day three of antibiotics for Pic's UTI. The moment she tells me she has to pee, I get her to the nearest toilet asap (faster than usual, just in case you were thinking I usually made her hold it in). Yesterday, Cardo, Pic and I were at the bank when nature called. There was no restroom available to us at the bank, so I took Pic over to Gottschalks (Yo daddy Gottschalks...hi Ms P!), leaving Cardo at the bank. As we ran in, franticly in search of a restroom sign, an employee at a display table remarked, "She's really tan." As we rushed past, I assured the woman that we applied tons of sunscreen everyday. I think she understood Pic's "tan" as we were leaving, though. Cardo came in to meet us and Pic ran down the aisle yelling "Papi!" as if it'd been days since we'd last seen him. (Just in case I somehow have random readers who've never seen us, I'm just a wee bit light-skinned, but Cardo is a self-described "brown guy." Pic got a good mix of our skin colors.) (Does anyone remember the Jackie Kay campus visit when she related a similar anecdote? While she was clothes-shopping with her mom, one of the salespeople remarked, "She's rather tan"...except you have to imagine Kay's Scottish accent there.)

I'll end with food pictures because I haven't posted any lately. I'll save tonight's dinner for another post because I still haven't shared Father's Day dinner pictures. We celebrated the day after because Cardo worked Sunday night (we took him to breakfast on Father's Day).

Here are Pic and me in our aprons from Poke:

Dinner was whole wheat spaghetti, mushroom-marinara sauce to which I added carrots, turkey, mozzarella, nectarines and sparkling white grape juice:

Dessert was caramel cake and milk on dessert ware given to me loooong ago by Poke's mom:

Wednesday, June 18, 2008


As usual, I had a difficult time falling asleep last night. I finally came downstairs at about 1:30. At two, the neighbors began noisily going into and out of their apartment (I think it was some of the many kids who are always congregating there). I finally started falling asleep a little after 2:30 when there were two loud slams on the door at 2:45. Little punks. (Believe you me, there are/were many other not-so-sweet words going through my head.)

Because I had just fallen asleep, I was completely out of it when I heard the noise, so I didn’t react quickly. By the time I managed to figure out what was going on, the delightful and considerate little joys were inside. They woke Cardo up, which irked me even more. He’s been sick for over a week now and he needs his rest. They didn’t wake Pic up and thanks be for that. Next time, we’re going to go over and pound on their door. Seriously, parents? I remember being a kid (it really wasn’t all that long ago). I remember staying up all night at sleepovers and being obnoxiously loud and giggly (I hope not too loud, but I’m sure my parents just had to listen for a minute to confirm that all slumber-partiers were still present). However, we lived in a house, we didn’t slam doors or shove each other into walls or rearrange furniture or whatever the crap my neighbors seemed to be doing all night. And we never threw crap at or pounded on neighbors doors in the middle of the night (or at any other time, mind you).

Argh. Just as I thought it was getting quiet.

In other non-news: Pic has been blessed with a UTI. I went to check on her last night and her room smelled like concentrated urine (I don’t exactly know how to describe it, but it was a very pungent urine smell). I took her out of her bed and slipped her out of her pajamas and panties. I made her a little bed on the floor and I took her bedclothes downstairs so I could wash them today. Rarely does she wet her bed. I can’t even remember the last time she did it.

Then, this morning, as we were waking up, she called out to me “I pee-peed in my panties.” She was upset. I didn’t see any blood and she told me both “yes” and “no” when I asked her if she was hurting. Ten minutes later, just after I got her dress on, teeth brushed and sunscreen slathered on, she peed in her underwear again. She never pees in her underwear.

She was at school for less than a half-hour today. I made a sick-visit appointment for her at the doctor’s office (such an important convenience: the ability to schedule a sick-visit at the pediatrician’s office). She freaked out when she realized where we were going, but the visit went surprisingly smoothly. Even the peeing in the cup. She’s had to have a catheter put in before, once, when we thought she had a UTI before (turns out all the fun of putting the catheter in was for nothing). This time, the nurse handed me a cup and we hoped that Pic would be able to go in it. She did…kind of. She wanted to stand as she peed and she ended up peeing in the cup, down her legs, on the floor and on me. I really didn’t care, as long as the sample was big enough, and it was.

Since then, we’ve dropped off the urine sample at the lab, purchased her antibiotics, administered the first dose (“It’s milk!” she exclaimed before tasting it. After tasting it, though, she spit a large amount out and wailed, “It’s baaad.”), eaten lunch, bathed, done laundry and we’re both “resting” right now (I can hear her upstairs singing to her toys). Now, I’m going to lay on the couch like a useless lump until Cardo gets home (he gets off at three today, so I have a limited amount of useless-lump-laying-around time).

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

who is johnny?

Can someone please explain to me why the new Disney-Pixar character looks so much like Johnny 5? Is this intentional? I don't think I'm seeing a resemblance where there is none.

Okay, now that I see them together, I have to admit that they're not as 'exactly' alike as I had thought, but still...

Monday, June 16, 2008

mama's got a squeezebox...or not

I haven’t been able to find the faceplate to my car stereo since I returned from Seattle, so my car has been NPR and music free. I’ve been very sad. And a little crazy; I only know one song non-obnoxious-children’s song completely by heart (this can’t be right, I keep thinking, but I can’t think of any other songs I know completely by heart). So, for the past three weeks, I’ve been on repeat of Janis Joplin’s “Mercedes Benz”*. I’m annoying myself, but I can’t help it. Before I realize it, I’m on the Dialing-for-Dollars stanza and then it just becomes a seemingly-endless loop.

Anyway, here’s a today in history note: 1967
The three-day Monterey International Pop Music Festival - which catapulted Jimi Hendrix, the Who and Janis Joplin to stardom - opened in northern California.

* This is a different youtube video than I linked to before. I love that a night on the town is a trip to the library.

a day in the life of an undomestic

Woke up, got out of bed, dragged a comb across my head…

Thanks, boys. My morning’s resemblance to the song ends here. Well, there were stairs involved and I did feel late. However, there was no “cup” (only, now I am having a glass of water), no smoke and no bus.

Actually, after Cardo left for work (late?), I was treated to several more minutes of sleep before naked Pic joined me in bed. She plopped her favorite purple dress in my bed so I could help her on with it. We brushed our teeth and she went to grab underwear and stockings. (One day, I said “stockings” instead of “tights” and it has stuck.) We applied copious amounts of sunscreen and tramped downstairs where I threw the rest of her lunch together, poured her juice, grabbed her napmat and a just-in-case pair of panties. After a bit of playing, shoes were on and we were out of the door. Two minutes later, we had walked across the street to her school and, less than ten minutes later, I was back home.

And…I’m done. Have I always been this tired, I wonder? I think so. And I don’t think so. I just want to crawl over to the couch, drag myself up and sleep until it’s time to pick Pic up from school. Of course, I cannot, because that’s just not how life works, most of the time.

Ah, well, I’ll head over to the mall and select even more stationery from Papyrus (sale!). Then, I’ll come home and work, clean, do some yoga, turn a movie on, turn the movie off because I can’t concentrate on it, go to the library, fetch Pic, make a cake, comfort sick Cardo, make turkey breast and something for dinner, stay up too late, go to sleep and start all over again.

I’ll end with another song (and, yes, I felt it necessary to alert you that the following is a song): Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. (Thanks Phoebe.)

Thursday, June 12, 2008

tag and other randomness

Poke has tagged me, so here goes:

The rules of the game get posted at the beginning. Each player answers the questions about themselves. At the end of the post, the player then tag people and posts their names, then go to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

1. What was I doing ten years ago? I was on summer break, between junior and senior year. This means I was probably having a sleepover which included making disgusting ice cream concoctions (yes, it is possble to add too many toppings to your ice cream, especially when they include large amounts of food coloring), staying up all night, watching the neighbor do a horribly robotic version of the Macarena and playing a track and field game on an NES.

2. Five things on my to do list for today: Um, it's late, so I'll pick five things per domani: offload the old washing machine, do laundry (or most of the laundry steps, at least), write and send correspondence, see the Indiana Jones movie with Cardo, eat belated birthday lunch with Cardo.

3. Snacks I enjoy right now: dark chocolate covered pretzels, farmers' market strawberries (the first Sparks hometown farmers' market was today) and just about anything from HOB

4. Things I would do if I were a billionaire: pay off debt, spread the wealth...and buy books (how would I achieve this status, I wonder??)

5. Places I have lived: Lake Isabella, Van Nuys, Blythe (and maybe a few other CA places), North Las Vegas (before Las Vegas crept halfway up the state, before North Las Vegas became all fancy), Las Vegas, Reno

6. People I want to know more about: anyone interested...I'm not good at tagging people


Who needs “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog” when you could have “Jelly-like above the high wire, six quaking pachyderms kept the climax of the extravaganza in a dazzling state of flux”?


I'll close with a picture of Pic in a tree pose (I had to take a billion pictures to get this one because she kept moving, and she finally got tired and rested her arm on the entertainment center). She's wearing her new bathing suit. I'd like a similar one in green, please.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

happiness is...

Just a minute ago, which was really “just” last summer, but it seems so recent, we were living in the house and I was a woman who did yardwork. Okay, so I didn’t do much, but every few weeks, I faithfully pulled out my reel mower and snipped short all of those blades of helpless grass. I usually left the clippings for Cardo to rake up, because I’m actually pretty lazy and because pushing the mower around our small yard was enough work, I thought. (Great arm work, by the way.)

We lived down the street from a middle school, on a pretty long street, so we had frequent traffic cruising (often too quickly) down the street. Most of the people who passed while I was mowing the lawn would give me a strange look, something like “Why would she be using such and arcane implement to cut her grass. Hasn’t she ever heard of gas mowers? Hasn’t she ever heard of landscaping companies?”

I loved our reel mower. We got it for a steal at the Salvation Army for $12 (seriously, look up how much these things cost new). I loved the workout. I loved watching as I cut patches through the thick, shag-carpet of green. Also, I drive a Kia Rio that, while small, doesn’t get the greatest gas mileage. I figure using the reel mower was the least I can do (because I tend to obsess about these things) to cut down on my contribution to air pollution.

When we moved a couple of weeks ago, we gave the mower to a friend who father has a yard. Although we moved into an apartment, part of a complex that employs a landscaping company, and I won’t be doing any yardwork here, I was sad to watch the mower go.

As I was driving home today, in my gassy little Rio, I watched a man pushing his reel mower over his grass. It made me happy.

P.S. That picture is not of any yard I know. My yard was much, much smaller than that.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

my life according to google

I stole this from Poke's Other blog...thanks!

[Instructions: Type in the following and insert the first choice.]

1: Type in "[your name] needs" in the Google search:
vickie needs to go! [Hey! I'm not wearing any pants, so I'm not going anywhere, thank you very much.]

2: Type in "[your name] looks like" in Google search:
vickie looks like a woman who's fought long and hard to enjoy herself [Not so much really...I'm pretty passive.]

3: Type in "[your name] does" in Google search:
vickie does dallas [yeah, yeah, yeah...I knew that one was coming.]

4: Type in "[your name] hates" in Google search:

If the reviewer Vickie hates a movie -- hooo-boy -- you'll be sure to hear about it! Hooo boy! Yee hah! [this posting is entitled "vickie the dictator"...apparently I'm a cowgirl dictator.]

5: Type in "[your name] goes" or "..has gone" in Google search:
vickie goes back to school! [Hey, chill out. I have another month before I go back.]

6: Type in "[your name] loves" in Google search:

vickie loves alex ii [Right, then. A Russian Czar for me.]

7: Type in "[your name] eats" in Google search:
vickie eats alooot for tha dae...& tries to groom herself bacc to perfection...while othrs talk too loud & i shut them up...!!lol!... [yes, I appear to be annoying...and what exactly do I mean by groom, I wonder?]

8: Type in "[your name] has" in Google search:
vickie has been featured in the recent issue of the magazine Curve! [Go me! I think. What exactly does that publication feature, aside from me?]

9: Type in "[your name] died" in Google search:

vickie died in 1998 [again, vickie the dictator...I guess that explains my current passivity.]

10: Type in "[your name] won't" in Google search:
vickie won't admit her feelings towrads Henry! [I guess I'm too busy working on my spelling skills.]

11: Type in "[your name] can't" in Google search
vickie can't wait for the new season [Actually, I prefer spring to summer, thank you.]

Monday, June 9, 2008

scrub, scrub, scrub/good and clean

We are, once again, the proud owners of a washing machine that works! (Insert happy little dance here.) I only have fifty-thousand loads of laundry to wash now -- score!

I'll treat you to a poem from Eve Merriam's Blackberry Ink, in just a moment. Last week, I took a leisurely trip to Savers, alone (hello summer break). I was half-heartedly glancing over the children's books, when Blackberry Ink caught my eye (another one of those "eye" cliches that grosses me out). It was tucked between a Full House book and The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass. I also found a signed (dedicated to someone else, but signed nonetheless) copy of Too Many Murphys by Colleen O'Shaughnessy McKenna. I love the notes in the fronts of books; I feel like the handwritten dedications and scrawled names give the books character.

So, here's the poem, a la Eve Merriam's Blackberry Ink:

Swish, swash,
Washing machine.
Swish, swash,
Make it clean.

Swish, swash,
Bubble and spin.
Swish, swash,
Pack it all in.

Jeans and sheets,
T-shirts and towels,
And a skirt with pleats.

Three odd socks,
An old rag doll,
And a terry-cloth fox.

Swish, swash,
Washing machine.
Swish, swash,
Clean all clean.


P.S. I bought a new scale today, because weighing myself is one of my very favorite activities. In the "Care and Maintenance" section of the instruction sheet, is the following: "An occasional wiping with a soft cloth and mild soap will keep your scale attractive. Do not use abrasive cleaners. Your scale does not require oiling or lubrication of any kind." I just don't seem to have a special enough relationship with my scale. I've never thought of a scale's attractiveness and I've certainly never thought to oil or lubricate one.

Sunday, June 8, 2008

bugs aplenty, bugs galore

I'm reading back issues of Self magazine and I came across this little delight in the August 2006 issue:

"Forget they fly in your soup; there may be crushed beetles in your juice, yogurt or the imitation crab in your California roll. The FDA has proposed a rule to require companies to list the ingredient as 'carmine' or 'cochineal extract' rather than 'color added' for people who are allergic to the critters. Bonus: Vegetarians, people on kosher diets and the rest of us will also be clued in."

How is an ingredient called "cochineal extract" or "carmine" going to clue anyone (other than those who have read this tidbit from the magazine and bug aficionados) into what is actually in the food?

I'm kind of grossed out and kind of not, considering I've probably already eaten tons of bugs and just didn't realize it. And how do those people allergic to beetles figure that out? I don't go around eating random stuff, especially random skittering-around stuff just to see how my body reacts.

Just thought I'd share. You're welcome.


Oh and I just found this link to a discussion of this (from 2003). The responses are interesting.

Saturday, June 7, 2008

the ups and downs of apartment living, not necessarily in that order

In case you haven’t heard, we’re back to apartment living. Our landlady filed for bankruptcy in April and we had to start worrying about where to live (wonderful fodder to add to the mental/emotional breakdown I was experiencing) We decided to move back to apartment life. Some advised us to rent another house, but I didn’t want to have the same thing happen a few months down the road. I love to move*, but I’d rather not do it more than once a year.

We returned to the complex we lived in before we moved to the house. It’s been a bit over a week now. I kept having doubts and feelings of inadequacy and selfish moments of I-want-to-buy-a-house-now (which is just not possible for so many reasons). It’s an adjustment, definitely, but we’re getting along.

Pic has a huge bedroom (both of the bedrooms have full baths – with tubs – but ours has the linen closet and Pic’s has the walk-in closet). This morning, she asked Papi, “Do you want to see the band-aid in my big, big bedroom?”

We haven’t used the air conditioning yet. Just having it, though, is a HUGE improvement over last summer. The house had no a/c, which meant it was 94 degrees most summer days (I often suspected that that was just how high the thermostat read and that it was actually much hotter). We’d always be stuck at home during the hottest part of the day so that Pic could nap and I could boil in the living room. How she ever slept was beyond me. We finally broke down and bought a window unit, although we had less than no money last summer, and the living room, at least, was cooler.

Our neighbors seem incapable of closing any door in their apartment like normal human beings (maybe they aren’t?). Thirty million times a day, there’s a tremendous crash! as someone enters or exits a room. And Thursday was a particularly special day, when, from 10-11p, there was an even more excessive amount of slamming. Added to this was yelling and thumping and much throwing of trash outside. Fun times. Our neighbors’ apartment seems to be a get-together spot for every young teen within a ten-mile radius (and that’s a lot of teens). We’ll see how this goes.

On a much more positive note, there’re two pools here. In my horrible self-consciousness, I have a hard time getting into a bathing suit (says the girl who was on the swim team in high school…but that was different, I swear) and I often get caught up on this terrifying event and forget just how much I love being in the water. When Pic woke up from her nap today, I told Cardo we should head over to the pool. At first the water was chilly, inviting us to sit on the side of the pool and gaze at it lapping the concrete. I persevered, though, and quickly warmed up. I swam some laps while Ali cheered me on and Cardo tried to keep me from smashing into anything (I don’t know where my goggles are, so I didn’t wear my contacts, so I was pretty screwed in the sight department). I swam more laps than I thought I could, although I didn’t push myself until I was exhausted. Oh, I miss the water and I’m considering membership to the Y or a gym that has a pool so that I can regularly swim after our pools here are emptied. We’ll see.

All in all, I think these next thirteen months (the length of our lease) are doable.

In other non-news, in case anyone’s in the market for a Prius: they are once again on a six-month back-order.

[* I like the newness of places, I just don't like packing/unpacking all of my junk.]


Currently watching: Hannah and Her Sisters

Currently listening to: Mercedes Benz


Finally: Happy Birthday, Ms J! I hope the surprise dinner was fabulous and the movie was fun.

Thursday, June 5, 2008

i'm in the mood for...please excuse the interruption

Cardo and I were about to christen the new apartment, break out the board games, (I know, I know, we've been here a week already), when Pic's old radar kicked in. She had to have round crackers. Seriously, kid, what about my needs.

And, just as I was typing this, and as the child was supposed to be sleeping, she calls me up to her room. She either called, "Mamma, there's a little fire in my bathroom" or "Mamma, there's a little spider in my bathroom." It turns out there was a little fuzz in her sink. Which she was washing out with plenty of puffy soap, by the way.

Anyhow, picture time. We've finally eaten a dinner I prepared here in the apartment (I know, I know, it's been a week). As I mentioned, the refrigerator is about to wheeze out its last breaths and the maintenance person is coming tomorrow to fix it, so I decided we needed to use up the food in the freezer. (Yes, I was very undomestic goddessy tonight.) We had Trader Joe's party meatballs (because suddenly I'm Mrs Flax from Mermaids) in Newman's mushroom marinara sauce (which Cardo decided tasted like mole* did strangely transform after fifteen minutes of simmering with the meat), vegetables in cheese sauce and House of Bread sundried-tomato focaccia. [This picture is dedicated to Ms J...I read your comment just as I was about to upload this dinner picture.]

Finally, more pictures. Pic and I are a bit dress-obsessed this spring, it seems. We've splurged on tons of dresses (from Savers), so I'll post pictures of Pic in her 'new' dresses as she wears them.

* say: mO-lay...just in case you were totally grossed out by what you might have thought Cardo eats

posts from my laptop

I wrote the following posts as we were in the process of moving, so they're a little behind. I'm just going to post both together, though, because I'd like to get back to regularly scheduled programming.


[last Friday or Saturday perhaps]

My life is chaos right now. We are at the latter end of a move right now – the part where we live surrounded by mounds and mounds of boxes and slowly find permanent places for things to belong. If I could find the camera, I would take a picture of the craziness and share, but um…right, finding stuff isn’t exactly going to be a strong trait of mine right now.

In my determination to actually purge our lives of some of the clutter (note: I said “some”), I am delving into boxes that haven’t been opened in anywhere between two and five years. Among the things I’m letting go are our wedding ring pillow, a Trapper Keeper covered in bears and a whole slew of candles. Among the things I still can’t let go are a Port of Subs kid’s meal pail full of rubber bouncy balls, a bag of badges I never sewed onto my Girl Scouts sash and a “spacemaker” box that holds my comic cards and a comb with a tiny chocolate bar motif.

Also, apparently unpacking makes me uncontrollably giddy. I have just spent the last forty-five minutes giggling over love/stalker letters to JDA (I’ll share when the scanner is set up in this place), the Wedgie Rangers theme song and tags from pajamas that have long since disintegrated.

And now, as I add to this entry later, the giddiness is gone and the exhaustion sets in. I’m tired of moving. I’m tired of unpacking. I’m tired just thinking about going back to the house tomorrow to clean and throw the rest of our random belongings into bags and boxes only to bring them here and realize we have no place for them. I think it’s time to call it quits for the night, go upstairs, take a bath, read a magazine and get some rest.


[a couple of days later -- Tuesday]

Here I am again, still unpacking. Verrry slooowly, our apartment is becoming less chaotic. Cardo is totally focused on the whole picture: we walk in and BAM!, chaos. However, a friend just gave me the advice to just take it one box at a time, to not focus on the humongous mess. Good advice, I think.

We’re hitting bumps here and there. The refrigerator here leaks and we’ll have to have that fixed, which will be difficult as we have food in there and the freezer is completely jam-packed (it’s that classic pull-one-item-out-and-everything-else-follows situation in there). I remember the first time we lived here our refrigerator broke and they had to replace it. That was a pain. Also, right now, the washing machine is being a butthead. Everything was fine until the spin cycle and now the agitator refuses to move. I really need to clean some laundry (well, some more, because there is clean, incredibly drenched laundry in the machine) and I have no idea how to fix it. I’ll have Cardo look at it when he gets home.

Pic, Baby K, Ms J and I went to storytime at the library today. The regular woman was not there (she was attending a junior high graduation for one of her daughters) and the much quieter librarian lead storytime. Pic was actually very well-behaved, which surprised me because the last time this woman lead storytime, Pic wanted to leave about three minutes in. She likes the noise and the movement of storytime. I’ve tried taking her to preschool storytime with Mr J, but there are no noisemakers, there is no music, there are only the books and she got bored very easily. Maybe I’ll try taking her to that one again soon and have her sit through one story and we’ll work our way up…we’ll see.

Anyhow, things are moving along. I’ve survived all of this chaos and I continue to do so (even though I had my doubts for a while). Pic is super excited to be here (I think she inherited the moving gene from me, which could work out as we’ll be moving plenty more times in the future). Together, she and I will drive PapĂ­ crazy with our incessant desire to always be somewhere new. It’s important to have goals in life.


That's all folks. Later, I'll catch y'all up on aparment livin'.

Currently reading: back issues of Self magazine and Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

i'm baaack!... the saddle again. Okay, so it's definitely not a saddle, but an office chair we bought from someone on Craig's list and that is now covered in a thick layer of cat hair, but you get the idea. So, I have posts I've written in the last few days, but they need to be transferred from un altro computer (seriously 'computer' in Italian is 'computer', at least commonly). In the meantime, Ms J started a blog and I'm incredibly excited by this (yes, I'm blog-obsessed...thanks be that Poke explained to me what blogs were at an embarrassingly late stage in the game). Check out 'hey, coach j!' on my blog roll. (Ms J, it was great to see you guys at the library yesterday, I'm working on Greenblatt.)

Currently reading: Renaissance Self-Fashioning: From More to Shakespeare