Today was Queen's Day, a national holiday that celebrates Queen Beatrix's birthday, even thought her birthday is actually in January, according to Wikipedia. From my impression this afternoon, Queen's day is basically a giant toys/antiques sale combined with orange clothes and silly hats. I stuck to the smaller celebration in Delft this year, although I plan to go to the bigger ones in Den Haag and Amsterdam in the upcoming years. It was an interesting afternoon, although I think it would be more fun if I wasn't attending by myself. There were street musicians, food, crowds, and sales, everywhere.
F told me that the garage-sale thing started as a tradition where kids could get rid of their old toys, but expanded into an anything goes sort of street sale. There were still a TON of kid's toys available though. I looked for baby books in English for J's upcoming baby, but didn't see any. I did buy some new boots, but from a nearby store, not secondhand. Now I have boots! Purple ones!
I enjoyed the music rather a lot, especially the children who were out playing various instruments. I always threw the kids change. And really, what's more adorable than a pair of sisters playing violin and cello duets? I found I preferred the instrumental musicians to the DJs, possibly because I developed a mild migraine and the speakers were LOUD. An accordian/flute/violin group was my favorite of the day.
Buying street food will be so much easier once I learn food words. That's what rosetta stone should start with, rather than all the airplane an elephant phrases. Lots of fried stuff, and an entire table of sushi, which I was scared of, because it wasn't that cold out today. I did not eat the sushi, even though it looked delicious.
I got a little lost, since sometimes I had to go the way the crowd went, rather than the way I was planning.
I had a horrible moment when I was putting the camera back in my bag, and someone bumped me, and the camera hit the cobblestones. A couple screws in the lens (that seem to hold the lens to the part that attaches to the camera) came loose, but I fixed it when I got back here. Fortunately, F has a tiny screwdriver, and the camera still works fine.
Overall, I think this holiday would be more fun with people, kind of like celebrating the 4th of July by yourself would be kind of boring, but I'm glad I went out after the rain ended.
Travel costs. Without the volcano, it should have been something like $1380. I'm currently working on a claim to my travel insurance, so I should be getting some of the difference back.
Wichita to NYC Plane Tickets: $141 Luggage Fee: $155 Luggage cart at airport: $5 Cab Ride to hotel: $35 Hotel: $314
NYC to London Cab Ride to airport: $90 Plane Tickets: $416 Luggage Fee: $160
London to Amsterdam internet in airport: $15 phone to call travel insurance: $100 Bus ride to hotel: $6 Train ticket: $354 Cab ride: $116 hotel: $884
Cost to move one woman and about 180lbs of her stuff: $2791
Having spent 98 € at IKEA, I have my room all set up now. By "all" I mean the suitcases are unpacked and put away, and their contents are not longer on the floor. I still need another electrical plug adapter (or two, or five) and my new IKEA shelves (E was looking for reasons to procrastinate, and drove me there! The long shelf just barely fit in her car.) are still pretty empty. I'd like to get something to put on the walls, a better jewelry containment system, and some plants for the windowsill and highest shelf. Having spaces to hold stuff is way better than before though, so we'll start with this. First of all, I'm pretty impressed by how much storage space I've achieved for such a tiny room. The closet was quite well designed, with 5 shelves and hanger space. It's holding my (admittedly small) wardrobe, all 4 pairs of shoes, the camera bag, most of my yarn, a suitcase and a small box of misc stuff. There's a large storage area above the closet (we have very high ceilings) that I share with E's room which is holding the other two suitcases. Very helpful. We have a storage space somewhere in this building too, so I could move the suitcases down there if I need more space later.
It's weird planning a room when I don't know how long I'm staying. Ideally, the house in KS will sell and R will be able to move within the next 6 months, at which point, it hardly makes sense to acquire a ton of decorative things now, because I'll just have to move them again. But if I end up here for longer, I want my room to feel like my space. Fluid planning keeps life interesting, but it certainly makes simple things more complicated!
1. It's much more pleasant walking through parking lots when all the cars are small. 2. Grocery shopping in a language you don't speak is challenging, especially at the open-air market. 3. A "short walk" here is much longer than a "short walk" in the states. The expectation that you would walk or bike to the market that's 2 km away is pretty motivating though, and it was a really nice walk. 4. Sidewalk construction projects get done really fast. Particularly strange is that I've never seen anyone actually working on the sidewalk, but each day the project has progressed about 20m farther. 5. Coffee breaks are sacred. That's awesome. 6. They sometimes serve free alcohol at university-sponsored events. A lot of it. 7. I should have brought my farmer's market bag with me, since the ubiquitous plastic grocery bag is pretty absent here. Luckily, my purses are big. 8. Having a roommate (F) who has lived in town for 11 years is very helpful. She gives excellent directions. 9. Stores are closed on Sundays, so I have nothing to do today but relax. Also awesome. 10. The cure for boredom with two blue knitting projects is apparently varigated taupe-to-orange socks. 11. The members of my department are very excited to finally have a native English speaker on the team. 12. I get irrationally frustrated when I can't understand Dutch, and apparently think I should have learned it in about 2 days here. I realize this is silly. 13. My Pakistani roommate (S) makes really really delicious food. 14. E's cat, Pasha, is the only animal I've ever met that is as obsessed with people food as Parents 1.0's dog. 15. I am apparently very approachable (or look like I know where I'm going) because people keep stopping me to ask for directions. I have yet to be able to help anyone. 16. I really like the lack of pickups and SUVs. It makes walking along streets seem much safer. Also, it's easier to see street signs. 17. The auto train ticket stands don't work with American cards. They require the fancy new kind with a microchip. 18. Pasha very much likes merino/silk yarn, and spent an hour sleeping on it. 19. I need better shoes. Or to get used to walking so much. 20. There's a website that plans routes for you based on public transportation. It's the best thing ever. Except for having access to public transportation in the first place, which is even better. 21. Kids play outside by themselves here, with no adults in sight. I like that, but it's disorienting. 22. It's hard to think in math after a year of unemployment. Satisfying though. 23. There's an IKEA here. S and I are going, because we both need furniture. I'm excited, and already know what I want to get. 24. Skype cannot register a clear image of Quasar. All the fuzziness screws up the webcam. 25. Everyone I've met so far has been really nice. The first question I get is "How did you get here?!?!" followed by "Where are you from?" and then "Corn, right? and Wizard of Oz?" At least they haven't asked if I grow potatoes, which makes them more conversant with US geography than several coastal Americans I've met. 26. Happy birthday to the lovely AH!
Traveling has gone surprisingly well thus far. I even got my ears to pop on descent into Houston!
The Wichita airport was amazing this morning. I was very tearful, because I'm leaving on an adventure and R, Nova, and Quasar aren't, and all the people I had to deal with were simply amazing. The check-in counter guys were quite impressed with my luggage! On my Wii Fit board, one suitcase was at 48 lbs and the other two were juuuuuuuust over 49 lbs. On the airport scale, they were all under 50 lbs, but one of them cheerfully sat at 49.8! So the Wii Fit weighing method worked out nicely, and I am totally the winner. The ticket-checking lady at the beginning of the security line asked if I was okay, and mentioned she always tears up when leaving her grandmother, whch made me feel a lot better. It was so nice of her to take a minute to sympathize. The scanner people were very nice too, and helped me put my laptop back in my very full carry on bag. They were a bit confused by my second battery, but my explanation that a new batter and external charger was cheaper than replacing the motherboard generated sympathy for frustarting computer problems, and some interest in external battery chargers. Security took me all of 5 minutes to get through, and actually made me feel slightly better. When's the last time that happened?
Knitting makes waiting for boarding much nicer. I found my gate, bought a soda, and knit two blanket rows, and then it was time to go. Much better than sitting watching the clock. The flight was fine, with flight attendents who obviously enjoy working with people, and spent a lot of time cracking jokes. I was on an Embraer, a puddle-jumper with only 3 rows of seats, so I had a window and an aisle at the same time. I love getting the single-row seat on little jets. We got stuck sitting on the tarmac for 2 rows of blanket (20 minutes) which was hot and made knitting wool seem a little silly. The flight was fine, although a little bumpy on ascent and descent.
The Houston airport is weird. I'm pretty sure it's been built in stages. We landed in terminal A, and it's hideous. No windows, just flourescent lights, ugly wall coverings in a sad dingy white. Now I'm in terminal E, following the clackity-est shuttle ride ever, and it's so much nicer. Big windows, some with interesting etched patterns, skylights, wide open spaces, and walls that look clean. It's like moving forward about 30 years in terms of design. It's a little warm, but I can live with that. I did want an excuse to wear my new socks though. I have socks and slippers with me, in case my flipflops are too cold in the air. Also, they didn't fit in any of the suitcases. While I ate lunch, I read “Physics of the Impossible” and learned that the word “robot” comes from an old eastern European play about automated workers, and was chosen because it means drudgery in Czech, and labor in Slavak.
Newark Airport: Apr 14, 6PM
First off, happy birthday to B and MM!
I am absurdly early at the airport, since they told me I should be at my gate by 8PM and I've been here for an hour. But I am so grateful to be here, that it's okay that I'm spending this lovely afternoon staring at hideous carpet.
My flight to NYC yesterday was fine, although rather bumpy towards the end. My seatmate was a very pleasant gentleman who was very interesting to talk to. We had a discussion of the intersection between art and science, and the damage that commercialism does to both, or something, and I knitted. He helped me get my luggage onto a cart, and walked with me to the taxi line so I wouldn't accidentally stumble upon a company that charges twice as much. He was very helpful, and made landing a lot easier than it would have been. Thanks random guy!
I woke up bright and early today, and found the consulate without any trouble. Although if more stores would put their address numbers on the building somewhere, that would be helpful. I got there super early, before the consulate even opened. So I had to leave again, and wandered around the area. I watched some ice skaters at Rockefeller Center, and then I noticed a tiny photography shop that advertised passport and visa photos. And I thought to myself, “Do I need one? I have no idea! Stupid not clear website!” Because I'm nervous enough about this whole visa process, I figured it wouldn't hurt to get some photos, which turned out to be entirely the correct decision. The first thing they ask you when you show up to “pick up” the visa you've been told is “ready” is ask to see the photo you brought to make sure it fits the guidelines.
Then they couldn't find me in their system. That was nerve-wracking.
I was apparently filed in a weird spot, probably because I have a weird status that's between student and knowledge worker. They found me though, and I filled out a short form and turned in my photo.
Now about those quotation marks above. “Your visa is ready, and you need to arrange with the New York consulate to pick it up” means different things to me and to the people who do the visa making. See, I read that and think that the visa is ready, and I just have to go get it. Right? The consulate even said I didn't need an appointment when I phoned them, I could just walk in. That's not what it means. It means that the Dutch government approves your visa, but the people at the consulate still have to sign off on it, and print it, and put it in your passport, and this usually takes 3 days, ok?
Panic.
I'm leaving tonight! Nobody told me that ready doesn't mean ready, and that pick up means drop off your photo and passport. THOSE ARE NOT THE SAME!!! I didn't scream though. I'm really very pleased with how calm I was until I got back to my hotel room. They said they'd try, but they couldn't guarantee they'd get it all done by closing time at 5pm, and could they have my cell phone number? The employees were fantastic. They were sympathetic, they were friendly, they were working on it before I got out the door.
Back at the hotel, I called R and came up with a back up plan. I could book another night in the hotel (which I did, since I didn't need the added stress of nowhere to go with 150lbs of baggage and 30 lbs of carry on) and book another flight out later. Studentuniverse still had spots on flights for the next several days, for under $500. We'd lose some money, but we do have the savings (from my severance and selling the car) and we can always earn more money. I ate, I showered, I knit blue lace, and I stared at my cell phone, willing it to ring. I chatted with Mom 2.0, which was calming, and didn't answer when Mom 1.0 called because she didn't need to stress out too.
When the credit card company, who apparently forgot I told them I'd be traveling, called about possible fraud, my fragile equilibrium was destroyed. An unknown number, asking for Ms. Myname? Has to be the consulate, only it wasn't. I called R after that, because I was all upset again, and he went to lunch so he could stay on the phone. When he got home, there was a message on the answering machine. I was all “maybe we got a house offer! Who else would leave a message?” No house offer, but it was the consulate, who couldn't reach my cell phone for some reason, even though I had perfectly clear reception. My visa was ready, and I could pick it up until 4:30pm! I looked at the clock: 3:09. I threw off my socks, found my flipflops, remembered my keycard (I locked myself out once last night) and left the hotel.
I didn't run to the consulate, because I can't run in flip-flops, but I did walk very very fast.
Back at the consulate, I walked up, said I was there to pick up a visa, told them my name, and I am now the holder of an MVV entry visa! Thank you New York consulate employees! You were very fast, and I am very grateful. Now we should maybe work on some translations.
At the hotel, I repacked my carry-ons, asked for luggage assisstance (ZOMG, I totally forgot to tip the guy. He got me a taxi too. Sorry about that, super-nice and very helpful hotel employee. You walked back into the hotel way too fast.) and checked out. Remember, I had asked to extend my stay another day, and it was about 3:45 (late check out is by 3 ($35), super late by 6 ($100 and something), after that you pay for the room) so I was prepared to have to pay for the second night. The front desk lady was awesome though, and not only didn't charge me the second night, she only added the $35 fee for the earlier late check out. Fantastic employees at the Manhatten Center Hotel!
Now I'm at the airport, and I can leave when I'm supposed to, and I can quit saying “it's just money” every few minutes, and everything is all better! I gave the taxi driver a very generous tip, because he helped me get my luggage up the curb, and because I'm became very very cheerful, perhaps giddy, once I had the visa in my hand. There's a British boy's choir here, and they're ADORABLE. They even gave an impromptu mini-concert, which I assume was an attempt by the handful of adults to keep a large group of boys busy while waiting for boarding. They're really good.
So good thing to know: always always always ask how long it will take, even if the wording totally implies it won't take more than half an hour. Learn from my experience, because it sucked.
Now I'm just waiting to board, and I am so excited to be started the last part of this very long moving process!
Note: I totally flew on a Boeing 777! That was pretty neat.
London: Apr 15, 5:30 PM
It was much more exciting when I wasn't stuck in an airport.
I'd like to point out that the Titantic sank on April 15th, and I'm glad that my problem is much smaller than that one. I'm not drowning, for one thing.
Of course a volcano in Iceland errupted just in time to screw up my flight. Anything departing by 11:30AM got out. My flight was supposed to depart at noon. I am so frustrated with this trip! I admit, I could totally see the funny side of this if I didn't have a migraine, but I do, and it screws up everything.
We got off the plane and were told that we had to collect our baggage, and then exit to the ticketing area (which is outside customs and security) to rebook. Which is fine, I don't want my luggage to get lost in London. However, they couldn't put the baggage onto the baggage claim until the gate for it's flight was released, which doesn't happen until departure time, EVEN IF THE FLIGHT IS CANCELED. I'm not sure why, but I resent it. I got to sit in the comfort-free baggage claim area for 4.5 hours this morning. On two hours of sleep, and did I mention the migraine?
I made a friend while waiting. This poor couple, they were planning a second honeymoon river cruise vacation, and they're going to miss at least half the cruise because we can't fly out of here. They're looking at just going back home. How much would that suck?
Finally got my luggage, using the delightful free luggage carts, went through the "nothing to claim" customs hall, and out to the ticketing area. There are so. many. people. waiting in line.
A ton of signs said to rebook using the airline's website, so rather than stand in a 5 hour line with a pounding head, I went on a quest for WiFi. Or rather, first I went on a quest to figure out what I was supposed to be doing, and eventually decided that I needed internet. I found it too, after asking about 6 people. However, because I didn't book through the airline website, I'd have to pay full price for a ticket, and for Saturday, the flight I'd take was about $1000, taking the exchange rate into account. Yeah. Then I remembered that I have travel insurance, and a volcanic eruption is exactly what it's for! Of course, my only contact info was by phone. While dejectedly walking down to the still huge line of people, I saw a pre-paid phone store, so I am now the owner of a UK phone. The travel insurance people are trying to book me a new flight, and just found me a hotel! I will always buy travel insurance from now on. I'm sitting in the airport, with coffee and a comfy seat now, and feeling better than before. Still frustrated, and my head still hurts, but less.
I talked to an airline employee because I wanted to know where the volcano was, and I told her that volcanic eruptions lower Earth's temperature, and that's neat. It was even relevant to our conversation, and she thought it was neat too. That's me, spreading nerdiness wherever I go.
And hey! The lovely travel insurance person just got me a flight! For Saturday. If I get a hotel reservation, I could leave the airport! And go to sleep! That would be excellent.
PS: Anyone else wish I could tell this story as well as Megan would have been able to?
Having spent the week listening to tedious on-hold music and trying to finish up my wedding scrapbook (only about 15 more photos to go!) I've now moved into the final packing up stages. Tomorrow will be devoted to laundry and balancing out the suitcases, and deciding if a third one is worth the hassle and extra charge. Today we spent an hour switching the cable account to R's name, and I'm going to pack my carry on later to see if the new bag is big enough. My usual carry-on bag isn't good for a laptop, so I picked up a laptop bag at Target. It looks like it'll hold everything I want in a carry-on, but I need to actually try it. It's surprisingly hard to find a bag that zips all the way shut instead of just having one of those magnetic closures. I like the zip up ones better for traveling. R is going through the DVD book and dividing them up, which feels really weird considering how recently I merged and re-alphabetized them. R is also going through the box we throw all the random electronics stuff in for showing the house to make sure I have all the cords and cables and chargers I need. I'm mostly being grumpy, because my new knitting needles STILL aren't here, and I'd really like them to arrive before I leave. They've been in town for over a week now, so I don't understand why they aren't here yet. Frustrating.
I'm really looking forward to getting to Delft, I'm just not very happy about the traveling I have to do to get there. I don't really like flying, and I'm looking at 2 days of flying and exhaustion, since most of my time in NYC will be spent either in line at the embassy or waiting in the airport.
My visa is finally ready, and my plans are progressing. I'll fly from KS to NYC on Apr. 13, spend the night there, head to the Dutch embassy bright and early on the 14th to pick up my visa, do something during the afternoon, and fly out to Amsterdam in the evening. What with a layover in England and the time change, I'll arrive in Amsterdam mid-afternoon on the 15th, where very thoughtful and generous E will pick me up! I won't have to navigate an unfamiliar place while exhausted from a rather long flight, which makes me happy.
Naturally, I now have a very long list of stuff to do, some of which we really should have thought of earlier. Like switching the utilities to R's name, a simple task I could have completed months ago. We thought of it a few days ago. Oops.
I've been spending the weekend trying on clothes, deciding what to keep, and boxing stuff up for Goodwill. Along with booking flights, figuring out that I don't need an appointment to get my visa (this took a couple phone calls), and figuring out everything that needs to be packed and done before I leave. My list of things to do over the weekend is about half complete, although replacing the bedroom ceiling fan will take up a fair chunk of tomorrow, and I probably need to reduce the number of shoes I'm taking again. Knitting has been very helpful in maintaining calm while I think everything through, and the lace for MM has progressed rather a lot. The dogs are getting microchipped on Monday, so that we won't have to deal with it when we're actually shipping them over, much later than now. So everything's all very exciting, and I'll be very busy over the next week and a half.
In all the individual prayer times in mass, once I was old enough to pay attention to what was going on, I only ever prayed for one thing.
"Please, God, help me to believe."
I would look at all these people around me, who obviously felt some sort of divine presence in their lives, people whose sincerity was obvious, people who knew there was some non-interacting but apparently caring and IMPORTANT consciousness floating around, and I couldn't feel it. I wondered and wondered, "what is wrong with me? I don't feel like that!"
I wish I'd had the vocabulary to express agnosticism and atheism as a tween. Knowing there are other people who can't convince themselves that a magical force that loves everyone but doesn't ever do anything but controls everything exists would have been very comforting.
I tried behaving as if I devoutly believed, to see if that would help me to. It didn't. I was afraid to act devout publicly, because I knew I was faking it. I didn't talk about my struggles with church and religion, because I just thought something was wrong with me. If all these other people are getting something valuable out of church, I should too.
In high school, I quit caring. I went through the motions of confirmation, because it was important to everyone around me, even though it was a massive waste of time. I didn't have any particular belief set then, I just pushed the issue away and focused on more important things. Like picking a college major, and a college, and figuring out what I wanted to do with my life. The only time I really thought about it was at an elementary school reunion, where one of the classmates who had always been nice to me told me he felt God had called him to service. "How does he know that? Why is he so sure? Why have I never made it to probably?"
In college, I had a lot of more-or-less devout friends, so I started attending church again. Maybe this time it would work, and I would feel...whatever it is. I really liked the church there. The priests were fun, good speakers, and talked more about reality than divinity. Lots of sermons on tolerance, being good people, doing good things. I enjoyed the message, the music, and the people.
I still prayed at every mass for faith, because I still couldn't convince myself that any of the god stuff made any sense at all. Again, people all around me had no trouble believing that an invisible being that never did anything anyone could sense and only left one very random mish-mash of books written by men to say anything about itself knew and guided everyone all the time. Lovely, intellegent, fabulous people. So I figured that if everyone else could see that this bizarre concept made sense, and that creating an entire philosophy out of a self-contradicting compliation of documents was not only reasonable, but the best way, that it must just be me. Obviously, there's something wrong with me.
That's not a comfortable feeling to have, but EVERYONE I knew identified as a Christian believer of some sort. There were variations, of course, between the non-introspective roommate who was a believer because that's what she'd been taught and she never really thought about it, who attended church during the major holidays and the Aeroboy who attended two services every Sunday and truly believed that doing anything fun at all would send you straight to Hell.
And then there was me, unwilling to admit I couldn't believe because that indicated there was something terribly wrong with me, but unable to read the Bible any differently than the fairy tales and Greek myths I loved as a kid. Except the Bible was usually more tedious, more violent, less coherent, and didn't include the names of the women.
I was scared of the word "atheist" because all the people I knew considered it derogatory, indicative of moral failing, or at best, misguided and pitiable. I defined myself as an apathetic agnostic for awhile, because saying "I don't know, but I don't really care" is safer than saying "I don't understand how all of you can make any sense out of this."
I talked about it with MM once, asking her how she could deal with the biblical discrepancies, the lack of response from the universe, the non-appearance of God. Her reply, "That's part of the mystery" is the best answer I've ever gotten, and it simply doesn't work for me. Accepting that there's no reason to believe and believing anyway is not something I'm capable of.
I find the notion of eternal life absolutely terrifying, and can't understand why it's considered a reward. I want more time than I'm likely to get, but I don't want forever. The concept of infinity really freaked me out as a kid.
I shall be grateful for the rest of my life to one of the Aeroboys, for telling me he's an atheist and giving me the resources to find others. Suddenly, there was nothing wrong with me. I can't believe because believing in something that can't be detected in any way at all because some people wrote some stuff down a couple thousand years ago doesn't make sense.
There is nothing intrinsically valuable about faith. In no other area is it considered a good thing to believe everything anyone says without question. Whole classes are taught on evaluating the validity of web resources. You're supposed to actively disbelieve the stranger who says he has candy in his van. Food processors have to prove their factories are clean and their products are safe. I'm feeling compelled to provide examples to back up my statements on a personal blog that nobody reads.
I am an atheist because I can't choose to believe in something that doesn't make any sense or provide any actual, measurable, proof of its existence, and I am okay with that. I am much more comfortable with a god-free world, and an ethical system based on empathy instead of a deeply sexist, xenophobic, and authoritarian ancient book. I wish it had taken less than 24 years to learn I wasn't profoundly broken.
The open house today went well. Most of the people in the age bracket appropriate for this size of house LOVED my paint colors, although several elderly neighbors were rather taken aback. I hope they were only shocked by the orange wall in the basement, because if my blue and gray living room was too much, that's kind of sad. The realtor really liked how we staged what little stuff we have, which was nice to hear after all our hard work! Another realtor who came to see the house thinks a house-hunting client of his would like ours, and love the neighborhood, so we'll hopefully be showing again later this week.
In the past week, not only have we cleaned the house twice, we've also painted the front door white, painted a small angle wall gray, scrubbed the baseboards the dogs get muddy, washed, folded, and put away a month's worth of laundry (since I don't have to wear job appropriate attire, laundry is usually motivated by R running out of socks, and he has a lot of them), moved all the packed stuff into the van, organized the storage room, put the storage room door back up, fixed the guest room door, planted butterfly garden seeds and mulched the flower beds, and changed the dining room light switch. We didn't manage to get the bedroom ceiling fan up, because R slept wrong and strained a neck/shoulder muscle. He couldn't lift his arms above his head, making wiring near the ceiling impossible.
We spent most of our exiled time at the bookstore, where I overheard a conversation between a couple of 15-ish year olds. The boy was sad because some girl wasn't calling him, and the girl was recommending not stalking the not-calling girl. I really wanted to tell him "she's just not that into you, quit trying" because the situation sounded like the not-calling girl just didn't know how to say no. I didn't, though, because that would be a tad creepy. I imagine he'll figure it out.
My lovely blue lace knitting project is moving right along. Now that I understand the pattern, it's pretty fast work. I imagine it'll get tedious before the end. I've finished 3.5 of 14 pattern repeats, so I still have a fair amount left to do. According to my spreadsheet, I'm 30.38% done. I'm very happy with the clear beads, and glad I went with them instead of blue ones.
You're adorable, you really really are. And lovey, and hilarious, and pretty much awesome. However. I just cleaned the house yesterday, and I have an open house on Sunday, so it would be really really really fantastic if you could quit trying to bring the ENTIRE backyard into the house with you. Muddy footprints on the floor may seem fun, but I have to mop, and it makes my back hurt. Bringing in mulch might seem like getting new toys, but it breaks apart, isn't picked up well by the vacuum, and will do a lot more good around the plants than as splinters in my feet. All those dead leaves you're bringing in are just making me vacuum more often, which means carrying the heavy thing up and down the stairs, which makes my back hurt. Really, you can let the leaves decompose outside. The soil needs some more organic matter anyway. Please quit stepping on the tulips. They'll be pretty and happy if you give them a chance to grow. The same goes for the bluebells, once they start coming up. I am allowed to eat without help. If I don't want all of my delicious cinnamon toast, I'll give you what's leftover, because I don't like throwing food away. Just because you can jump on the chaise, Nova, doesn't mean you always should. While I'm mentioning jumping up, if I have the beads out for my new knitting project, please don't step on them. They fall and roll and disappear, and I'm sure the vacuum won't like them. Quasar, you can throw the soft toys all you want, but not the bones. They're hard and heavy and there's breakable stuff near the floor. Like R's string bass. And the fireplace doors. And my teevee. Lastly, just because I walk past the puppy cabinet in the kitchen doesn't mean I'm there to get treats out. Sometimes I need to walk through the kitchen. Especially on laundry day. Nova, I know you're smart enough to figure this one out, so do that, and explain it to Quasar, would you?
Keep play fighting to your hearts' content though, because today's fight was hilarious. The cuddles, kisses, and fetch are good too.
I got new yarn yesterday, and the pretty blue laceweight for MM went onto needles, as soon as I found the size 6 circular. It was hiding. Casting on laceweight was interesting, since I've never worked with such tine, stretchy stitches before. The cast on I was supposed to use just resulted in knots, so I internetted to find something that would produce the same effect that would work for me. The border was super easy, even with learning how to add beads with the smallest crochet hook ever, but then I got to the lace. The first row took me 3 tries, because I had dropped a stitch in the previous row and kept not noticing. Luckily, this yarn sticks to itself pretty easily, so after all that time, I could still just put the stitch back on the needle. The second row I did 1.5 times, because I forgot the beads but noticed halfway through the row. The third row I got right to start with! I am making much progress, and I LOVE how the beads and the yarn look together. The timing was fantastic, as I can now work on this project and leave my two airplane projects for the long airplane ride. I didn't want the airplane projects to get too bulky, but I needed something to work on. Naturally, now that my new yarn is here, I have the perfect light for scrapbooking again. I'm pretty happy to have things to do that generate a sense of accomplishment though.
R finally has some options, and might be heading to California to earn better money, in a job in his field, while looking for something in The Netherlands. I'm not thrilled with the long distance idea, but adding to savings instead of subtracting from them until the house sells is a pretty big perk to the idea. And with the paperwork issues, he can't move until he gets a job anyway, so he might as well work somewhere that isn't happiness-destroying retail. When our house sells here, I might be buying our next one without his input (just like this one) but hopefully someday we can house-hunt together. I've found a darling house that's practically on campus and has a decent yard, and another farther away house that's rent-able IF there's some sort of transportation available. I don't think a 15 mile bike ride to and from work is reasonable. Especially since I haven't touched a bike in 8 or so years.
I decided it would be a good time to review my New Year's Resolutions. Thus far, I'm doing well at 1, haven't had the chance to work on 2 (I don't currently have a bike), am still Rosetta Stone-ing my way to 3, have done nothing at all for 4 (especially now that I'm carless during the day), can't work on 5 because I have no deadlines to meet, have rocked out 6, and am not doing so well at 7 because there's nothing in my house to photograph except the dogs. I will take some new yarn pictures later when the camera battery is charged.
I realized that I forgot to post this on Friday. My car is sold! Everything is done, and having that money (plus eliminating that debt!) is pretty reassuring, and very very awesome. However, I miss my little car. It was a good car, with excellent gas milage and enough space for the dogs in the back. Not that Nova ever stayed in the back. I was sad to see it go, but the new owner is super excited about it, and I'm thrilled to be this much closer to a car-free lifestyle. Not that I have anything against cars themselves, as a concept. New technology means we can shift away from burning oil to run them, and exclusively human powered transportation is not practical in a lot of places. I do, however, hate driving in traffic, paying for insurance, trying to park, being a designated driver, and paying for a machine that needs a fair amount of maintenance and depreciates in value very quickly anyway. Attending a university with amazing bus service made me appreciate being a passenger. Given a choice, I much prefer being able to review notes, play games on my DS, read, talk on the phone, or otherwise productively spend my commute time instead of paying attention to the road. The great thing about having a car is the freedom of movement, being able to go places easily and quickly, and at university I had that (for the most part) with the buses.
I also paid off my credit card, and am going to pay of R's as soon as we figure out a safe way to transfer money to that account. In another week, our only debt will be our fairly modest mortgage, and that's pretty awesome for a pair of 25 year olds!
I sent an email today. R and I have decided to apply for just my visa at this point, because we can't figure out how to authenticate his birth certificate. The authentication office took 5 weeks to tell us they don't handle births abroad. Thank you, obviously understaffed and probably suffering from budget cuts authentication office. I don't like you. And while you did try to direct us to the right place, they seemed confused, and if they're the right place, we're looking at another 2 months of waiting. Once we figure out our end of the deal.
This is complicated. The Netherlands has salary requirements (at least for the skilled worker category I'm in) for immigration with dependents, which I find rather sensible. Because R hasn't found a job yet (although we've found a couple for him to apply to!) he counts as a dependent, and my salary isn't high enough for the first year to meet the requirement for him to get a visa too. However, there's a loophole for students, if we apply for both at the same time.
So, by applying for only my visa, we are depending on R finding a job so he can join me before I get a raise. Which would happen at the earliest at the 1 year mark.
I'll admit, this is scary. Really really scary. I don't like long distance, and thought we were done with that when we got married. Our original plan was that he would move when he got a job or the house sold, so realistically this doesn't change the reality that much. But it feels like it does.
However, I know we can do long distance, since we managed for 3.5 years before. And I don't know that I can do another 3 months of unemployment.
Besides, if everything went smoothly and easily, it wouldn't be an adventure. It wouldn't even be reality. So I'm not happy about our new plan, but I'm not unhappy either. R can get a job, and things will be fine. The house is still our bigger issue, because until it sells we can't afford a dog-friendly living space. And R has to be working. If the house sells, he could come visit for 3 months at a time without a visa, and that would be workable.
Explaining everything to myself was very helpful today. I think that this wouldn't have seemed so drastic if I weren't coming down with a cold.
My left hand is cramping. I've knit about 6 inches of tank top today. Why my left hand, which is pretty stationary, and attached to my good shoulder via my good arm is the problem, I'm not sure. I'm pretty happy with my progress though, and hope a quick typing break might solve the problem. If not, I have a dishwasher to empty and a box for K to put together. The teevee cart needs dusting too, and the kitchen table needs to be cleared off. I really need to convince R to throw stuff away. He seems to have an inability to put trash in the trash. It's bizarre.
I'm behind on my photo posting. This is probably because I'm living a very boring, isolated life right now, and I'm having a hard time finding things worth photographing. I'm not even cooking fancy food these days, because fancy ingredients cost, and until the house sells, we're going with cheap and simple. Soup, although delicious, is not exactly exciting to look at.
To supplement my knitting, I've been doing a lot of reading. Since most of my books are now with Parents 1.0, I've turned to the glorious world of blogs, with feminism and fat acceptance being my preferred subjects. I've found a couple knitting blogs I enjoy, and several food blogs where I like to look at the photos, but for the most part, my hobbies aren't that interesting to read about. I've been suffering a lack of people to talk about these particular topics to, mostly because I'm very isolated right now, but also because R isn't terribly interested in them. I find this frustrating. R finds it frustrating that I don't care about the trailers for games that aren't coming out for another two years, so we have a "Really, I don't care, and I'm not going to pay attention" agreement. Which was fine when I actually saw people and got to talk to them during the day, but isn't working so well for me now. When R gets home from work, he mostly wants to relax, and for him, that means reading manga, or playing games, or basically spending some time by himself. Whereas I have spent the day trying to keep my mind busy around the house, which is not terribly stimulating now that my garden's asleep, and I want nothing more than to socialize. Having the introvert go to work while the extrovert stays home is absolutely maddening. Most of my friends here are still employed, and the few who aren't are taking classes or have kids. Phone and internet conversations help, but they're simply not the same. I have never been this isolated. I need people time, but I also need to not spend money. Really, I need the paperwork to be done so I can move and start work again. When I had a job, R and I made dinner together, and ate together, and then spent the evening amusing ourselves individually. Sometimes we'd play multiplayer games, but for the most part, we did our own thing. My computer was in the teddy bear bedroom, and his was in the (unfinished) basement. Now, both laptops are in the living room, and I can usually only manage an hour of him being in the basement before I ask him to come back upstairs so I'm not alone. It's ridiculous and clingy and frustrating, and I'm getting really tired of it. I'm sure R is too.
So anyway, I'm debating whether to talk about the stuff I read here, or not. I have a lot to say, but I don't know that I want it all on the internet, forever.
It seems I've spent too long typing, and now my right hand hurts. So I'll think about it some more, I guess.
Today should have been Megan's 26th birthday. Since 5th grade, Valentine's Day has meant a fun, crazy, Megan-style birthday party. Instead today I watched MST3k movies, because RENT would have been too hard.Megan was one of the most alive people I've ever known. Things as simple as baking cookies or colouring hair became adventures when she got involved. And afterward she would make an epic story out of the simple-activity-turned-afternoon-long-fun. She was funny and vibrant and dynamic, and I'm grateful for her friendship. Even if we hadn't seen each other in a year, our relationship picked up as if we'd hung out the week before. I cannot go anywhere in my hometown without thinking about her, because we spent so much time doing so many things together. Snapshot memories, as I thought of them
Megan and I met in 5th grade, when she switched elementary schools for a year. On the first day of school, she punched Karl, who was very popular, for some reason, and I was happy that there was someone else who didn't like him.
We learned pig latin in elementary school and drove other kids CRAZY with it. When they started to pick it up, we changed up the rules. And by we, I mean Megan.
Megan convinced me to play flute in 5th grade band. Otherwise, I probably would have ended up as a clarinet player, since I (even now) can't make a sound on a brass instrument. Which leads me to marching band. Megan wrote an L and an R on her shoes, so she'd remember which foot to start with. Senior year, Megan and I managed to be next to each other, and it was great to have someone to mock the sophomores with. We tried to convince the Medds to let us do a kickline at one point. They totally didn't go for it. Also, robot poses! "I am a broken robot."
Stuart Davis concerts.
It was during marching band that I heard about the first WTC plane crash on 9-11, from Megan. She heard it on the radio on her way to school.
One of the most fun games we invented in elementary school was alien scientists. We wandered the playground, pretending we were aliens come to observe this weird species who called themselves "humans." We took notes and drew conclusions from our observations and everything! The force of Megan's personality made our geekiness cool, somehow, in the eyes of our classmates. We ended up with quite a few people playing alien scientists with us before it got too cold to write outside. I am the Walrus. As loud as we could sing. To a record, because that song had yet to be released to CD.
One of the few summers I spent at home during my college years, Megan and I had been hanging out at her apartment when she developed a pressing need to bake cookies. Only her oven was unreliable...on a good day. Sometimes it caught on fire. So we introduced her chihuahua, Leela, to my parent's dog, which was an adventure in and of itself, and baked cookies. It was one of the more relaxing afternoons I've ever had, since cookie baking with friends is a huge nostalgia thing for me. We took our siblings and some other kids trick or treating, and had oodles of fun by running around in the dark and jumping out at the kids we were kinda-sorta watching.
On the first band trip, Megan was in her vegetarian phase, and spent the entire 2 day bus trip eating french fries. At one fast food place, there was no ketchup. We were all shocked and appalled. We drove MM back to the airport after she came to visit one summer, and ended up having a lot of extra time once we got there. Only Megan could have made the tiny tiny airport store so entertaining. Not to mention convincing MM, B, and myself to don corn hats. The lady who took the picture for us couldn't stop laughing. Megan needed to dye her hair for something, and called to see if I wanted to help. This was probably the summer after high school. We went to Wal-Mart, bought hair dye, and went to work. However. Megan's hair was so thick, that we didn't have nearly enough dye, even with two boxes. So we colored part of her hair (after all, we figured that out in the middle of the process) and then went back to the store for more dye. They didn't have any more in that color, and we needed at least two boxes.We found one box at Walgreens, but had to go all the way to Target to find another box. It was absurd. We applied our new two boxes of dye, only to realize that the color wasn't really strong enough for whatever it was Megan was doing...something about a role in an indie film, I think. So we went back to Wal-Mart for a darker color, and picked it based on the fact that they had enough boxes. Then we colored her hair again, and were finally successful, so we spent the evening eating leftovers and watching Friends DVDs.
We once played dress-up while babysitting her sister and all sang terrible early 90's music while playing air-guitar. In junior high, maybe elementary school? we started a stuffed animal hospital with B and I think MM. Not only did we repair whatever ripped stuffed animals we could find, we added things to them to simulate organs, and performed surgery on them. Our most successful surgery was adding a noise-making tube to Abby's giant clown, so that it made creepy noises whenever she moved it.
Megan introduced me to the awesomeness that is Mystery Science Theater 3000. We rented that movie every weekend for an entire summer, until Dad bought a copy for me. We watched it all. the. time. We made up stories about the people ice skating at the mall while waiting for a movie.
We played in the band together at the mall's grand opening, thus keeping ourselves entertained for the several hours that we were playing boring pep band music, staring full into the sun. Someone left some large empty cardboard boxes in the hall at school one day, and rather than ignoring them, Megan started a hallway-wide potato-sack race using the boxes after school. In high school I went rushing with Megan when RENT came to Hancher. I don't know what to say about it other than it was so much fun, really cold, and made for lots of great stories and quotes later on. Everyone thought my pink fuzzy blanket would make an awesome pair of pants. The trashcan is probably still tapdancing.
Megan, I miss you. You left us all much too soon. Thank you for the fun times, the spectacular memories, the friendship, and the ability to consider mundane activities epic adventures. Your passion and sense of humor inspire me still. Happy Birthday.
I now posses a marriage certificate and a birth certificate with apostille stamps. Which aren't really stamps so much as separate fancy pieces of paper, if you were wondering. This was a long horrible process, since the person I called to find out how to apply for apostille stamps left out a couple key details. Like, who to address the things to and all the info they needed. So my documents have traveled from state to state a couple times now, but we have them. I'm still waiting on R's birth certificate, which is complicated, because Parents 2.0 weren't living in the US when he was born. His stuff had to go to the federal Sec. of State's office, which obviously has a slower turnaround than my not-so-large home state.
So hopefully by the end of February I'll be in my new country!
Because my camera takes ginourmous photos, and shrinking them down to blogger size is tedious, my photo project is now up at Picasa. I added a link to it in the sidebar, as well as a slide show made of that album. I think this is going to work out much better, because I won't have to fuss with the image sizes.
Making some progress on paperwork, finally. Thanks in huge part to my future roommate, E, who took care of figuring out exactly what was needed and filled out the forms so all I had to do was sign them! Also thanks to R, who did all the printing/scanning because my computer's acting up and it's really really cold in the basement. I now have somewhere to live, just as soon as I can move! It's a three bedroom apartment, which I'll be sharing with two roommates. E is currently there, and another woman who will be moving out in March, so we'll be roommate hunting once I get there (or, if my departure is delayed, possibly sooner) to keep the rent nice and low.
When people say the Dutch tend towards bureaucracy, they aren't kidding. There were two forms to fill out/sign, which E took care of. Typically, proof of ending a previous lease is needed, but since I own my house, I had to send my mortgage info and a letter explaining I was in the process of selling. They also needed a passport scan and proof of employment. But it's all done and dealt with, so that's pretty awesome.
It's going to be weird adjusting to having so much less space. R and I could probably go an entire weekend without seeing each other and without leaving our house, if we tried. I'm actually kind of excited about it, because our house here seems so empty without furniture, and we simply hadn't filled it up yet because life got expensive. My car was totaled, we had wedding expenses, then the whole roof mess, then layoffs. And since I don't buy stuff I don't love, just to have it, and there's no IKEA (or similar cheap modern furniture) nearby, we just didn't have stuff. Which was fine, because just the two of us certainly don't need a ton of stuff. In fact, I'm finding that I prefer owning less, and doing more, if that makes sense. Why buy a dining room set for $1000 when I have a kitchen table already? I could instead use that money to take a weekend trip with R, or shop at the farmer's market and get delicious local produce instead of shopping at a chain store with flavourless tomatoes, or get season tickets at a theatre, or pay for half a cruise vacation. Or even put it towards R's master's degree (if he ever decides what degree to go back for) or to keep in savings as a comforting slush fund, just in case. I get so much more out of anything except the dining room table, and I'm grateful I bought this much-too-large house because otherwise I wouldn't have learned that. Looking at Dutch real estate, initially I was all panicky. How will I ever live in such a small space? Then I did some math, and really, R and I only actually use about 800 sq ft of space. We use either the living room or the basement, but certainly not the whole basement room, which is ginormous, the kitchen (but only the cooking side, not really the breakfast nook) and the master suite. Really, our bedroom could be 20 sq ft smaller and we wouldn't even notice. I've also found that while I thought for sure I'd need "my own space, to be alone" that that isn't the case at all. Even if we're doing totally separate things and not talking, I prefer that R and I are in the same room. This was true even when I was working, and not spending all day hanging out by myself. I married him because I enjoy his company, after all! So now I'm looking forward to having less space and less stuff. I'm also looking forward to the challenge of making a small space work in terms of furnishing and decor, although that won't be until we can find a house-ish living space.
Much as I love my little car, I am thrilled to be shifting to a car-free lifestyle. Which will only be possible because the new town is totally walkable and bikable. And while we may buy a car once R has a job there, the prevalence of public transport combined with high gas prices makes me think that's unlikely.
Even the dogs don't use the whole backyard, and would be perfectly fine with much less space. Especially since I'm moving somewhere that will be much more fun for walks. The path behind my house is lovely, but it gets boring to go in the same loop all the time. My new neighborhood/city will be much more walkable.
I will admit, however, that I will absolutely miss my glorious backyard, my trees, and the massive potential for oodles of flowers and vegetables. My apartment does have a patio, so I might try some small-space container gardening this summer.
Apparently, the water just wanted to be difficult, and turned itself back on the next day.
Now I have a new problem. My marriage certificate came back to me today, because apparently the address wasn't specific enough for the office it needs to go to. You know, the address that I copied directly from the Iowa Secretary of State's website. So there's an entire week wasted, since I now need to re-address, re-send, and then wait for it to get back. However, they are willing to change the date on my contract to whenever I get there, since we don't have a lot of control of the paperwork pace. But now that I have somewhere to live, and the holidays are over, and my initial unemployment filing is almost up, I just want to get there and get started on the new job. I hate waiting for this sort of thing. The move will be stressful, the time change will be hell, and leaving the dogs (R too, of course, but I have plenty of practice at that) is going to suck. I want to get all that over with, and just get going! I'm like that with good-byes too. Whenever R or I dropped the other off at an airport, it was very "Okay, have a good flight, love you, hugs, bye" and that was it. Dragging it out just makes me feel worse. Once there's a plan, even if it won't be pleasant, I want to get it going. This even happens in smaller things, like cleaning the house. If we've decided to clean, I want to get it started and blast through it. R much prefers easing into the idea, then cleaning a room, taking a break, cleaning another room, taking a break again, and it took some getting used to. I hate dragging out boring, tedious, or otherwise unpleasant things. Being unemployed, for example.
Now that I think about it, this is probably why the weeks before I got my layoff notice were so so so stressful. I was pretty sure I was getting laid off, everybody else's optimism to the contrary, and rather than dreading it, I really wanted to get it over with. My last few weeks at work were actually a lot more pleasant, because I knew they were the end, I wasn't stressed about deadlines (what are they going to do if I don't meet them?) and I was much more able to focus on what I was doing.
Just because the visa paperwork chaos, trying to sell the house/car/furniture, and broken laptop power source weren't quite enough, we have no water to the house. There's no water coming in anywhere, at least, so there won't be another horrible sheetrock experience, but still. We waited all day (why yes, we were planning on doing dishes and laundry today) for the city water guy, who showed up at 9:18 PM. Twelve hours after we called, but who's counting? And it is Saturday. He took the meter apart, fussed around, threw fire in the ground, and determined that the city's end was working fine. Water is getting to the pipe that goes to our house, but not to our house. So hopefully tomorrow (Sunday! so probably not) but more likely Monday, we'll be summoning a plumber to figure out what's wrong, which will hopefully be cheap and fast to fix. Awesome. Until the car sells, we don't really have a slush fund to cover major home repairs. And the car was supposed to be my moving slush fund, so that when I get to the Netherlands I can, for example, buy a bed. Not to mention that the plane tickets are going to be rather pricey, since I still don't have a visa and have 3 weeks until my theoretical work start date. I might be a little frustrated.
Also, I feel really gross, and want to take a shower.
Today was Queen's Day, a national holiday that celebrates Queen Beatrix's birthday, even thought her birthday is actually in January, according to Wikipedia. From my impression this afternoon, Queen's day is basically a giant toys/antiques sale combined with orange clothes and silly hats. I stuck to the smaller celebration in Delft this year, although I plan to go to the bigger ones in Den Haag and Amsterdam in the upcoming years. It was an interesting afternoon, although I think it would be more fun if I wasn't attending by myself. There were street musicians, food, crowds, and sales, everywhere.
