I have a theory about women and clothes. For myself, anyway, I can “be” different people, or different versions of myself depending on what I’m wearing, or rather how I present myself. Because really, it’s a whole presentation; the siluette of the outfit, the look of the hair/make up, and jewelry choices, the message the bag is saying. And the shoes are, of course, the cherry on top.
Reading this you might picture a perfect barbie outfit on a perfect barbie person. That just makes me laugh. I am not perfect or barbie-like in any way. What I mean instead is, who will I be today? Who will I show the world that I am? Will I be a classy/preppy girl with pearls? or a skater girl with my baggy cargo pants and skate shoes (which are crazy comfortable). Do I wear my chucks with skinny jeans and look like every other hipster? Do I want to stand out, or blend in?
Sometimes there are too many choices, each dependent on a previous choice. If I choose skinny corduroy pants, that eliminates which tops I can wear. The top (and the pant leg) dictate which shoes options are available, and then I have to take into account season, weather, intended activity and over all comfort. It’s no wonder I stand staring at my closet, like one would stand in front of the refrigerator if they have little will to cook, and there is nothing ready made to eat. The words slip unbidden from my lips, ‘I have nothing to wear!’. It’s not that I own no clothes, obviously I own lots of clothes, but at this point in time, probably minutes from when I have to leave the house, I have nothing to wear which suits the occasion, weather, active and my mood.
Thankfully it is winter weather where I live now. Winter is easiest for me because of the layering. All I have to do is start layering things and the winter look makes it’s self. I also always wear my winter boots when the weather hits, and since shoes are more than half my problem, I’m happy. (I have little patients for uncomfortable shoes and just wear flip flops for as long as the weather permits me). Summer is easy too, it’s also layering, but with flip flops and fewer, lighter layers. Spring is dressing for winter but with a shoe dilemma and no coat. But Autumn is what really stalls me. Will it be hot or cold? It’s too cool for flip flops, but too warm for my winter boots and I don’t like wearing tennis shoes unless I’m running.
The clothes per season/ activity/ and style also makes it hard to get rid of anything. Obviously if it doesn’t fit one way or another (too small/ too big/ just fits weirdly) it’s easy to say goodbye. But if nothing is inherently wrong with an article of clothing, how do I figure out if I don’t need it anymore? I don’t have the answer to that yet, which is why I have multiple drawers with clothes, and multiple clothes hanging locations. How does one say, ‘no, I’ll never be this version of myself again, goodbye sweater (or whatever it is)’. And, also I keep buying things, because if I buy new skinny jeans I have to make sure I have shirts that are going to be the flowy to my tight lower half. And yes I have boots, but do I have any comfortable flats to go with the skinny leg?
I finally just got rid of all the shoes that aren’t comfortable, regardless of what they “go with”, it hasn’t solved my problem but at least now I don’t end up in shoes that hurt just because I think they looked better than the comfortable pair. I’ve read about turning all your hanging clothes so the hanger faces the wrong way (hooked toward you instead of away from you), and when you wear something put it back the right way. Then at the end of the year, or season (however your closet works) get rid of anything you didn’t wear. I haven’t tried that yet, but maybe I will.
But with all of the organizational tips and tricks out there, all of the cheap clothes and endless fashion magazines, I think the real issue is still at large, and maybe always will be; women want to be something else. They could be perfectly content with their lives, but they just want to play dress up and feel what it might be like to be someone else. And there isn’t anything wrong with that really, it’s just closets need to be a little bit bigger, that’s all.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
You know what you should do?
One of the best parts (she said sarcastically) about being unemployed is well meaning people telling me what jobs I should look for. Somehow it always starts the same;
Well meaning person, “So Lucy, what are you doing these days?”.
Me, “Well actually I’m unemployed, but I’ve been doing a lot of…”.
Well meaning person interrupts, “You know what you should do?!”.
Me, with fake excited sparkle in my smile, “What’s that?”.
And they go on to tell me something that is kind of unhelpful but telling me with such conviction that I actually consider it for a day. Some of the most recent ones have been;
~ College tutor (since I’m good at English and stuff),
~ Vet tech (since I like animals),
~ Nanny (since I babysit sometimes? I don’t know, people just assume I like children, and I do, but still),
~ Teacher (since I’m good at English AND I babysit)
~ Onsite elderly re-locator (apparently this is a real thing)
~ Party planner (since I'm organized and detail oriented)
~ Research assistant (since we live close to a big university, and trust me I’ve tried to get this one, but I’m just not qualified),
~ Personal organizer (this one I agree with, but I don’t want to work for myself and have to find my own clients, but I have done some organizing jobs for family friends).
My mom still thinks I should go back to school and get a tech degree so I can be an ultrasound technician, (this isn’t a bad idea, but I feel like I should be able to find a job with the degree I already have).
And really what I think I’d like to do is editing, of almost any kind. But all the ads want me to not only be an expert in the English language but also be able to edit web pages and nonsense like that. Or be an editor and a journalist. Editing is a job by its self, but I guess it doesn’t hold enough value on its own.
And if I’m being really honest with myself, I would like to write. But I would want to write my stories, not whatever was needed for this issue of Whatever Monthly. I’m really not great under pressure- which is why I’m not a journalist (!).
I have real support from the few people that truly matter to me, they want me to be happy and write and be successful. Sometimes that in its self is too much pressure.
But if I have to work, I don’t want to work for myself, find my own clients and figure out how much money I have to withhold for taxes. I don’t want to drive to a new place every day, getting lost just when the GPS decides it can’t talk to enough satellites. I don’t want to work at a place where I don’t use my brain, like retail, and end up going crazy and quitting after a few weeks. I just want to work at a place where I can show up, do work I don’t hate and go home at the end of the day having made money. Apparently that’s too much to ask for from a job.
Where are those jobs they always show on ads? The boring, monochromatic offices with cubicles where all you have to do is show up and do boring repetitive busy work from Nine-to-Five. Where your biggest problem is deciding what fast-food to eat for lunch or getting your fingers super glued to your phone so your office mates can steal your candy bar.
Well meaning person, “So Lucy, what are you doing these days?”.
Me, “Well actually I’m unemployed, but I’ve been doing a lot of…”.
Well meaning person interrupts, “You know what you should do?!”.
Me, with fake excited sparkle in my smile, “What’s that?”.
And they go on to tell me something that is kind of unhelpful but telling me with such conviction that I actually consider it for a day. Some of the most recent ones have been;
~ College tutor (since I’m good at English and stuff),
~ Vet tech (since I like animals),
~ Nanny (since I babysit sometimes? I don’t know, people just assume I like children, and I do, but still),
~ Teacher (since I’m good at English AND I babysit)
~ Onsite elderly re-locator (apparently this is a real thing)
~ Party planner (since I'm organized and detail oriented)
~ Research assistant (since we live close to a big university, and trust me I’ve tried to get this one, but I’m just not qualified),
~ Personal organizer (this one I agree with, but I don’t want to work for myself and have to find my own clients, but I have done some organizing jobs for family friends).
My mom still thinks I should go back to school and get a tech degree so I can be an ultrasound technician, (this isn’t a bad idea, but I feel like I should be able to find a job with the degree I already have).
And really what I think I’d like to do is editing, of almost any kind. But all the ads want me to not only be an expert in the English language but also be able to edit web pages and nonsense like that. Or be an editor and a journalist. Editing is a job by its self, but I guess it doesn’t hold enough value on its own.
And if I’m being really honest with myself, I would like to write. But I would want to write my stories, not whatever was needed for this issue of Whatever Monthly. I’m really not great under pressure- which is why I’m not a journalist (!).
I have real support from the few people that truly matter to me, they want me to be happy and write and be successful. Sometimes that in its self is too much pressure.
But if I have to work, I don’t want to work for myself, find my own clients and figure out how much money I have to withhold for taxes. I don’t want to drive to a new place every day, getting lost just when the GPS decides it can’t talk to enough satellites. I don’t want to work at a place where I don’t use my brain, like retail, and end up going crazy and quitting after a few weeks. I just want to work at a place where I can show up, do work I don’t hate and go home at the end of the day having made money. Apparently that’s too much to ask for from a job.
Where are those jobs they always show on ads? The boring, monochromatic offices with cubicles where all you have to do is show up and do boring repetitive busy work from Nine-to-Five. Where your biggest problem is deciding what fast-food to eat for lunch or getting your fingers super glued to your phone so your office mates can steal your candy bar.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
The Caretakers
My parents, well whole family, has always taken care of things. Be it people, animals, pets, plants, property, anything at all really. If there was something that needed to be taken care of, we wouldn’t, couldn’t say no. Usually it was fine. I remember one holiday season where everyone in our old neighborhood was out of town and they all overlapped for a few days. We were feeding all their pets, taking in all their mail and watering all their plants in this empty street. Our kitchen junk drawer had spare keys to everyones houses.
As out family friends have gotten older, we have taken on a new type of roll. Either they downsize, move into retirement homes, or pass away and something must be done with all the leftover things. Who you gonna call? The Roses!
I don’t know when the last time you tried to give away 20-40+ year old furniture, clothes, appliances, etc. But only some places take certain things. We are now well versed in which charitable donation places don’t want any more old couches. And who is already stocked up on records or books. There isn’t one place you can call to come collect things left behind. Even if there was one place, you shouldn’t call it because usually certain things are left for certain people or places, and keeping all the straight is it’s own challenge.
There are also things sometimes like cable bills, and magazine subscriptions to cancel. My Dad (with permission) will get on the phone pretending to be that person so he can cancel things or figure out what needs to be done.
No matter how much stuff you set aside for so-and-so, take to all the various charities, throw away and otherwise- there is always a little bit leftover. Something that someone will come to get, but not yet. Something that is too unique to just be donated and needs to find the right person. Etc, etc, etc. If New York is the city with a million stories, how many stories do we have in our house full of other peoples things?
I am happy and proud that my parents can be so helpful to their friends and family who need help in a time in their life that is difficult. It’s best if these things can be done over time, a few days or a few weeks, or if you know something ahead of time, even a few months in advance. The house we live in now has three generations of stuff, plus odds and ends of other peoples things. It all needs to be sorted and paired down for our own eventual move. We have done a lot of that work around the house, but there is still so much to do here, and meanwhile we are taking care of all of them.
As out family friends have gotten older, we have taken on a new type of roll. Either they downsize, move into retirement homes, or pass away and something must be done with all the leftover things. Who you gonna call? The Roses!
I don’t know when the last time you tried to give away 20-40+ year old furniture, clothes, appliances, etc. But only some places take certain things. We are now well versed in which charitable donation places don’t want any more old couches. And who is already stocked up on records or books. There isn’t one place you can call to come collect things left behind. Even if there was one place, you shouldn’t call it because usually certain things are left for certain people or places, and keeping all the straight is it’s own challenge.
There are also things sometimes like cable bills, and magazine subscriptions to cancel. My Dad (with permission) will get on the phone pretending to be that person so he can cancel things or figure out what needs to be done.
No matter how much stuff you set aside for so-and-so, take to all the various charities, throw away and otherwise- there is always a little bit leftover. Something that someone will come to get, but not yet. Something that is too unique to just be donated and needs to find the right person. Etc, etc, etc. If New York is the city with a million stories, how many stories do we have in our house full of other peoples things?
I am happy and proud that my parents can be so helpful to their friends and family who need help in a time in their life that is difficult. It’s best if these things can be done over time, a few days or a few weeks, or if you know something ahead of time, even a few months in advance. The house we live in now has three generations of stuff, plus odds and ends of other peoples things. It all needs to be sorted and paired down for our own eventual move. We have done a lot of that work around the house, but there is still so much to do here, and meanwhile we are taking care of all of them.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Meal Planning
When Justin and I lived in Korea it was really expensive to eat out. Also the food was terrible. Just to clarify, I enjoy Korean food, but American Korean food and the stuff you find in Korea is really different from each other. But besides that any place that spoke English served “American” food- which was terrible. So it was really disappointing to go out and eat terrible food. One night, it might have been our one year anniversary dinner, we went out to have fancy Italian food. “How could anyone mess up Italian food?” I thought naïvely to myself. It.Was.Terrible. Justin and I looked at each other and shared a thought, We can cook better than this. And we started trying.
We had cooked a little before, but now we had goals and were ambitious in our cooking. We attempted all the types of food we couldn’t find overseas. We had Italian, (American) Chinese, Mexican, and good old fashion foods we perfected like hamburgers, pizza and steak. We felt proud and excited that we MADE food and it was good!
Fast forward, we are back in America and can once again get good food- but it’s still expensive, so we try to cook at home 99% of the time. The catch, living with my parents we also share a kitchen with them and have very, Very different views on food. Things like how much fridge space should be taken up by condiments, and how long food is still editable, and what constitutes a meal. After basically giving up eating anything but cereal Justin and I were grumpy and missed our own cooking.
I had always planned on cooking for all four of us when we moved in with them. Partly as a way to say Thank You, partly so we would all eat healthier, and mostly so I would have edible food (I was familiar with my parents cooking after all). But somehow it didn’t Just Happen, and if we didn’t start cooking soon enough one of my parents would start cooking something which usually involved boiling foods way past when it was done. We needed a plan.
Meal planning was the obvious choice, but I wasn’t going to pay a website to give me recipes that I might not like or know how to make (and you know, saving money not paying someone else to save me money). Even thought it would be nice to get grocery lists and meal schedules delivered… Justin and I thought we could do it ourselves. We would start with meals we had made before, I had some recipes from when I started writing them down for our family cook book that I was penning. We made the schedule for the first week, made the shopping list, went shopping and settled on a dinner time.
I didn’t even feel like cooking dinner the first night, but Justin encouraged me and lead the way with cooking- dinner was awesome. We had everything we needed to cook a good, tasty dinner and it was ready before 8:00pm. Success was sweet.
Day two, I think I was more helpful but I really couldn’t tell you, you’d have to ask Justin. Dinner was tasty again AND our ulterior motive we had leftovers that made for a tasty, non-sandwich lunch!
The week continued, Justin and I giddy with non-cereal, non-sandwich nourishment. Saturday came and it was time to make the next week’s schedule and shopping list again. That’s the part I’m worst at, not that I’m good at getting dinner started either, but I’m still worse at the planning (unusual for me, I know). Justin led the way again and we had a list and a plan. We got to the store late the next day though and I over salted the sweet potato fries that night into in-edibleness.
Monday rolled around again, and while I knew how good dinners could be now, I was already drained by cooking starting at 5:30 and clean up ending somewhere around 8:30-9:00. It was my whole night. Mom gets a free pass b/c she already did this for years, plus she has work at 4:00AM, and her body hurts. Dad offers to help cook or clean, usually I let him but when he does the dishes they come out kind of oily still and just need to be rewashed. And Justin has homework most of the time, so I end up cleaning. I kind of can’t imagine having a young family that needs attention and doing this every night, forever.
Week three started today. We ordered pizza and both took naps.
We had cooked a little before, but now we had goals and were ambitious in our cooking. We attempted all the types of food we couldn’t find overseas. We had Italian, (American) Chinese, Mexican, and good old fashion foods we perfected like hamburgers, pizza and steak. We felt proud and excited that we MADE food and it was good!
Fast forward, we are back in America and can once again get good food- but it’s still expensive, so we try to cook at home 99% of the time. The catch, living with my parents we also share a kitchen with them and have very, Very different views on food. Things like how much fridge space should be taken up by condiments, and how long food is still editable, and what constitutes a meal. After basically giving up eating anything but cereal Justin and I were grumpy and missed our own cooking.
I had always planned on cooking for all four of us when we moved in with them. Partly as a way to say Thank You, partly so we would all eat healthier, and mostly so I would have edible food (I was familiar with my parents cooking after all). But somehow it didn’t Just Happen, and if we didn’t start cooking soon enough one of my parents would start cooking something which usually involved boiling foods way past when it was done. We needed a plan.
Meal planning was the obvious choice, but I wasn’t going to pay a website to give me recipes that I might not like or know how to make (and you know, saving money not paying someone else to save me money). Even thought it would be nice to get grocery lists and meal schedules delivered… Justin and I thought we could do it ourselves. We would start with meals we had made before, I had some recipes from when I started writing them down for our family cook book that I was penning. We made the schedule for the first week, made the shopping list, went shopping and settled on a dinner time.
I didn’t even feel like cooking dinner the first night, but Justin encouraged me and lead the way with cooking- dinner was awesome. We had everything we needed to cook a good, tasty dinner and it was ready before 8:00pm. Success was sweet.
Day two, I think I was more helpful but I really couldn’t tell you, you’d have to ask Justin. Dinner was tasty again AND our ulterior motive we had leftovers that made for a tasty, non-sandwich lunch!
The week continued, Justin and I giddy with non-cereal, non-sandwich nourishment. Saturday came and it was time to make the next week’s schedule and shopping list again. That’s the part I’m worst at, not that I’m good at getting dinner started either, but I’m still worse at the planning (unusual for me, I know). Justin led the way again and we had a list and a plan. We got to the store late the next day though and I over salted the sweet potato fries that night into in-edibleness.
Monday rolled around again, and while I knew how good dinners could be now, I was already drained by cooking starting at 5:30 and clean up ending somewhere around 8:30-9:00. It was my whole night. Mom gets a free pass b/c she already did this for years, plus she has work at 4:00AM, and her body hurts. Dad offers to help cook or clean, usually I let him but when he does the dishes they come out kind of oily still and just need to be rewashed. And Justin has homework most of the time, so I end up cleaning. I kind of can’t imagine having a young family that needs attention and doing this every night, forever.
Week three started today. We ordered pizza and both took naps.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
If you can't say anything nice
If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all or make a remark about the weather. Either one might have been a good option.
I have been making an effort to socialize more. Really all I have to do is say ‘Yes’ to my new neighbor friend when she invites me places. So last night she had a cute little party, just of 20-somethings who live in our neighborhood. It was great, we had sangria and delicious cheese and other tidbits, and we were all geeking out over books and movies.
But then, it happened, I realized that this guy, who I had thought to be very interesting and I’d gotten super excited over because maybe HE could be friends with my husband, this guy had not stopped talking since I could remember. He had been in the kitchen when I arrived and from the moment he was introduced to a few hours later, I could barely remember anyone else talking.
I’m a little on the quiet side, and I can get easily overwhelmed by a nonstop talker, but this was even past that. No one else had said anything beyond sounds of ‘hmm’ or ‘ahh’ for at least an hour. It was a nice cozy group of five people around one table so there was no escape, and no room for a sidebar conversation.
This person whom I had thought to be an interesting conversationalist before, now was making my brain hurt. I turned it off. I sat and stared at him, vaguely aware that everyone else was simply staring at him too. Where they impressed? Intrigued? Did they want him to keep talking? Did they wish he would let someone else talk? Should I say something, butt in to try and rescue us all?
Maybe the reason I don’t do well in large groups is it’s too hard to read their collective desires. I can usually get what someone wants in a one-on-one conversation (while they may be harder to pull off due to their singular nature). But I really couldn’t tell this time, and this wasn’t a huge group. It was three other people, plus me and the talker. I knew the talker wanted to keep talking. I knew I wanted him to stop. But what did they want?
I’m still not sure. The party broke up around then, it was getting late and about half of us had to work in the morning. Then I, because of drink or tiredness, did say something to him. I wish I could remember my exact phrasing but it came out as something like “Don’t take offense at me telling you that you talk too much…because you do”. Eloquent, no? I then beat a hasty retreat and hoped I would still be invited to neighborhood dinner parties.
I have been making an effort to socialize more. Really all I have to do is say ‘Yes’ to my new neighbor friend when she invites me places. So last night she had a cute little party, just of 20-somethings who live in our neighborhood. It was great, we had sangria and delicious cheese and other tidbits, and we were all geeking out over books and movies.
But then, it happened, I realized that this guy, who I had thought to be very interesting and I’d gotten super excited over because maybe HE could be friends with my husband, this guy had not stopped talking since I could remember. He had been in the kitchen when I arrived and from the moment he was introduced to a few hours later, I could barely remember anyone else talking.
I’m a little on the quiet side, and I can get easily overwhelmed by a nonstop talker, but this was even past that. No one else had said anything beyond sounds of ‘hmm’ or ‘ahh’ for at least an hour. It was a nice cozy group of five people around one table so there was no escape, and no room for a sidebar conversation.
This person whom I had thought to be an interesting conversationalist before, now was making my brain hurt. I turned it off. I sat and stared at him, vaguely aware that everyone else was simply staring at him too. Where they impressed? Intrigued? Did they want him to keep talking? Did they wish he would let someone else talk? Should I say something, butt in to try and rescue us all?
Maybe the reason I don’t do well in large groups is it’s too hard to read their collective desires. I can usually get what someone wants in a one-on-one conversation (while they may be harder to pull off due to their singular nature). But I really couldn’t tell this time, and this wasn’t a huge group. It was three other people, plus me and the talker. I knew the talker wanted to keep talking. I knew I wanted him to stop. But what did they want?
I’m still not sure. The party broke up around then, it was getting late and about half of us had to work in the morning. Then I, because of drink or tiredness, did say something to him. I wish I could remember my exact phrasing but it came out as something like “Don’t take offense at me telling you that you talk too much…because you do”. Eloquent, no? I then beat a hasty retreat and hoped I would still be invited to neighborhood dinner parties.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
It's a pedestrian, It's a vehicle, it's a Bicycle!
I’m going to do it. I’m going to badmouth bicycles. I’d like to first say that I do own a bike, and I ride it for fun (non commuter), and I have fond memories of riding my bike as a child. I also am amazed at people who can ride ridiculously long rides because I don’t think that’s something I could ever do, or would want to try.
BUT, here's the thing bicycles. You are a vehicle. You must obey the laws of the road. This includes, but is not limited to, stopping at stop signs. Taking turns (ie waiting) at said stop signs. Riding on the correct side of the road so cars aren’t startled by you suddenly appearing coming towards them. Staying in your lane, if you have a bike lane then that goes double for you.
Also, you are not a pedestrian, you cannot ride your bike through a crosswalk- get off and walk your bike like you’re supposed to. I’m not expecting to see pedestrians moving at speeds of 25 miles per hour giving me no time to stop for them at said crosswalks.
I’m pretty sure I covered some of this in my last post, when I was complaining about pedestrians not looking out for their own good. I will do my very best not to hit you with my car- believe me I don’t want to hurt anyone, but you have to be responsible for your own life and safety. Bicycles, that goes for you too. You can’t just pop up in unexpected places and expect that I will see you in time. I am looking twice, and looking around, but with so many cars, people, traffic, motorcycles, scooters and such I won’t always see what I need to see.
SO, besides me being annoyed at everyone apparent lack of self preservation- I also think bicycles are a bad idea for other reasons. One, it’s great that you have low emissions (hey, you still breath so you have some emotions no matter what) but bicycles use the roads too, and they don’t pay a gas tax so there isn’t enough money to keep the roads in good repair. Two, bike lanes are great. But if you have to change the layout of a city, making it harder for cars to get around that's not cool. Our modern cities, for better or for worse, were designed with cars in mind- all the bike boulevards and street blockades and redirected traffic flows make traffic worse- which also makes it unsafe for bikes. (And traffic adds commute time which means cars are out there longer -emitting various gases that are purportedly bad for the environment and are the “reason” for bikes to be used in the first place).
Putting bikes first is not the answer to a sustainable mobile society who also values the environment. Safety of all people is paramount, but I don’t think bikes are really safe in the current set up anyway, and it isn’t good for cars either. It’s a lose-lose and there needs to be a better answer. I just don’t know what that is yet.
But in the mean time Mr. Bicycle, stop at the stop sign like you’re supposed to.
BUT, here's the thing bicycles. You are a vehicle. You must obey the laws of the road. This includes, but is not limited to, stopping at stop signs. Taking turns (ie waiting) at said stop signs. Riding on the correct side of the road so cars aren’t startled by you suddenly appearing coming towards them. Staying in your lane, if you have a bike lane then that goes double for you.
Also, you are not a pedestrian, you cannot ride your bike through a crosswalk- get off and walk your bike like you’re supposed to. I’m not expecting to see pedestrians moving at speeds of 25 miles per hour giving me no time to stop for them at said crosswalks.
I’m pretty sure I covered some of this in my last post, when I was complaining about pedestrians not looking out for their own good. I will do my very best not to hit you with my car- believe me I don’t want to hurt anyone, but you have to be responsible for your own life and safety. Bicycles, that goes for you too. You can’t just pop up in unexpected places and expect that I will see you in time. I am looking twice, and looking around, but with so many cars, people, traffic, motorcycles, scooters and such I won’t always see what I need to see.
SO, besides me being annoyed at everyone apparent lack of self preservation- I also think bicycles are a bad idea for other reasons. One, it’s great that you have low emissions (hey, you still breath so you have some emotions no matter what) but bicycles use the roads too, and they don’t pay a gas tax so there isn’t enough money to keep the roads in good repair. Two, bike lanes are great. But if you have to change the layout of a city, making it harder for cars to get around that's not cool. Our modern cities, for better or for worse, were designed with cars in mind- all the bike boulevards and street blockades and redirected traffic flows make traffic worse- which also makes it unsafe for bikes. (And traffic adds commute time which means cars are out there longer -emitting various gases that are purportedly bad for the environment and are the “reason” for bikes to be used in the first place).
Putting bikes first is not the answer to a sustainable mobile society who also values the environment. Safety of all people is paramount, but I don’t think bikes are really safe in the current set up anyway, and it isn’t good for cars either. It’s a lose-lose and there needs to be a better answer. I just don’t know what that is yet.
But in the mean time Mr. Bicycle, stop at the stop sign like you’re supposed to.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Wanted: Soul Mate Career
I’m insecure. I think everyone is insecure about something. I have my moments where I’m not sure of myself in every situation, but the one where I am consistently insecure about myself is in my career/job hunting. It’s just something that I haven’t ever been good at. And yes, I’m sure part of the reason I seem to fail is due to my lack of faith in myself- but that knowledge can’t break the cycle in it’s self.
It starts the way these things usually do- I need to get a job. I start looking online, usually Craig’s list or specific places I can think of, and I read about the qualifications I need to even apply for the job. That's where I start to get stuck. Two to three years of experience? I don’t have any experience in this job or field, but I want to try. How can I get experience without starving to death? (okay I would never starve, my parents are very supportive and wouldn’t let me be homeless or hungry, but you know what I mean). How can I get the experience I need if they won’t hire me until I have the experience? The answer is get a part time job for money and an internship for experience- but that doesn’t seem to happen for me.
So I don’t apply for those jobs or if I do, I’m already plagued with self doubt. Then I apply to lower level jobs- usually retail or something where they don’t care about your resume, they just want to make sure you can get to work and aren’t a criminal. I’m a college educated graduate who looks clean cut and seems nice, so I always get these jobs.
I work hard, I try to get along with my co-workers and boss(es). But I start to get bored and/or burnt out on they type of job I’m doing. Eventually I don’t care about my job- the money isn’t enough to motivate me past a certain point. That point usually comes a few months into the job and I start to not care. When I don’t care, I show up late to work sometimes, I get sloppy in my performance, I slack off. One of two things happens- I get so fed up that I quit or my employer doesn’t like people to be late and not try so I get fired. I haven’t been fired often, only 2 or 3 times, but it’s happened. It’s like getting a speeding ticket, you probably know it’s coming but it’s still kind of hard to swallow.
And that leads me back to the beginning of me needing to get a job and looking on Craig’s list. But this time I have another failure of a job on my mental resume. It weighs on me and makes me feel bad about myself. The failure makes me feel stupid for not trying harder at the beginning or lame for not being able to keep a lame job that anyone could get. So when I see that a job that sounds interesting needs certain qualifications I don’t have, I don’t even try, I just find something that I know I can get. I settle. And that never ends well.
I’m looking for a job right now. Am I brave enough to break the cycle?
It starts the way these things usually do- I need to get a job. I start looking online, usually Craig’s list or specific places I can think of, and I read about the qualifications I need to even apply for the job. That's where I start to get stuck. Two to three years of experience? I don’t have any experience in this job or field, but I want to try. How can I get experience without starving to death? (okay I would never starve, my parents are very supportive and wouldn’t let me be homeless or hungry, but you know what I mean). How can I get the experience I need if they won’t hire me until I have the experience? The answer is get a part time job for money and an internship for experience- but that doesn’t seem to happen for me.
So I don’t apply for those jobs or if I do, I’m already plagued with self doubt. Then I apply to lower level jobs- usually retail or something where they don’t care about your resume, they just want to make sure you can get to work and aren’t a criminal. I’m a college educated graduate who looks clean cut and seems nice, so I always get these jobs.
I work hard, I try to get along with my co-workers and boss(es). But I start to get bored and/or burnt out on they type of job I’m doing. Eventually I don’t care about my job- the money isn’t enough to motivate me past a certain point. That point usually comes a few months into the job and I start to not care. When I don’t care, I show up late to work sometimes, I get sloppy in my performance, I slack off. One of two things happens- I get so fed up that I quit or my employer doesn’t like people to be late and not try so I get fired. I haven’t been fired often, only 2 or 3 times, but it’s happened. It’s like getting a speeding ticket, you probably know it’s coming but it’s still kind of hard to swallow.
And that leads me back to the beginning of me needing to get a job and looking on Craig’s list. But this time I have another failure of a job on my mental resume. It weighs on me and makes me feel bad about myself. The failure makes me feel stupid for not trying harder at the beginning or lame for not being able to keep a lame job that anyone could get. So when I see that a job that sounds interesting needs certain qualifications I don’t have, I don’t even try, I just find something that I know I can get. I settle. And that never ends well.
I’m looking for a job right now. Am I brave enough to break the cycle?
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Happy Birthmas!
Maybe I’m just a child at heart, but some of my favorite holidays are traditionally “kid holidays” (if that’s even a thing). I love dressing up in costumes and eating (too much) candy for Halloween. I love decorating for Christmas and picking out gifts to give to my friends and family. I love hunting for Easter eggs (and yes, getting an Easter basket) and having our big get-together with loved ones for a paella (a Spanish rice dish). But one of my favorite things is my birthday. Maybe because it’s in August and not much happens holiday-wise before or after that. I love making a cake and decorating it. And having an excuse to buy things for myself.
My Mom has always gone all out for holidays and parties. I’m not saying we had a lot of money, we didn’t, but she would plan and decorate and have fun things for my brother or my guests to do. I think a lot of it was Mom trying to make it up to us that we lived so far away from any of our family. The only family that visited us consistently were my grandparents, I would love it when they would come stay with us. It made it feel more like home, our four person family suddenly felt complete with six people and even dinner felt like a special occasion.
The other thing was my brother and I never had tons of friends. We had a few close friends, and some friends from clubs and soccer teams, but not the big circle of friends I assume everyone else had- so birthdays have always been a little more family oriented.
Which leads me to right now. It’s August, I’m turning 28 and I’m trying to plan my birthday party. I still have a few close friends from my hometown and college years, but they are spread across the country. I came up with a brilliant plan, and I’m having an online birthday party with them. *keeping my fingers crossed my bandwidth is good enough*. But what about here? Here, in the real, present time and place.
My new husband and I moved to California to be close to my parents, grandfather, and West coast family. We aren’t the most extroverted people and have only met a few people since we moved here. Before that we lived overseas in South Korea (where we also only had two sets of close couple friends). And before that, I didn’t even know my husband and was mostly hanging out with my good friend Allie, and guys who were trying to date me. And before that I did have a full and fun circle of friends, but I lost them all in my divorce because my ex husband is a lying, cheating, emotionally manipulative person. Before that was college, where I gained two close friends. And before that was High School and all the friends and drama that come with it.
When Holidays happen, you don’t have to know anyone really. There is hustle and bustle, and consumer based marketing telling you that THIS HOLIDAY IS NOW, and maybe even holiday themed movies being shown on TV. But Birthdays are special, and personal, and the only people making a big deal out of them are you and the people who know and love you. Maybe that’s why they are harder to have without other people involved.
I hope I don’t sound pathetic. I don’t Feel pathetic. I just want to share my birthday cake with friends, I haven’t met yet, so I don’t eat all of the cake by myself...for breakfast.
My Mom has always gone all out for holidays and parties. I’m not saying we had a lot of money, we didn’t, but she would plan and decorate and have fun things for my brother or my guests to do. I think a lot of it was Mom trying to make it up to us that we lived so far away from any of our family. The only family that visited us consistently were my grandparents, I would love it when they would come stay with us. It made it feel more like home, our four person family suddenly felt complete with six people and even dinner felt like a special occasion.
The other thing was my brother and I never had tons of friends. We had a few close friends, and some friends from clubs and soccer teams, but not the big circle of friends I assume everyone else had- so birthdays have always been a little more family oriented.
Which leads me to right now. It’s August, I’m turning 28 and I’m trying to plan my birthday party. I still have a few close friends from my hometown and college years, but they are spread across the country. I came up with a brilliant plan, and I’m having an online birthday party with them. *keeping my fingers crossed my bandwidth is good enough*. But what about here? Here, in the real, present time and place.
My new husband and I moved to California to be close to my parents, grandfather, and West coast family. We aren’t the most extroverted people and have only met a few people since we moved here. Before that we lived overseas in South Korea (where we also only had two sets of close couple friends). And before that, I didn’t even know my husband and was mostly hanging out with my good friend Allie, and guys who were trying to date me. And before that I did have a full and fun circle of friends, but I lost them all in my divorce because my ex husband is a lying, cheating, emotionally manipulative person. Before that was college, where I gained two close friends. And before that was High School and all the friends and drama that come with it.
When Holidays happen, you don’t have to know anyone really. There is hustle and bustle, and consumer based marketing telling you that THIS HOLIDAY IS NOW, and maybe even holiday themed movies being shown on TV. But Birthdays are special, and personal, and the only people making a big deal out of them are you and the people who know and love you. Maybe that’s why they are harder to have without other people involved.
I hope I don’t sound pathetic. I don’t Feel pathetic. I just want to share my birthday cake with friends, I haven’t met yet, so I don’t eat all of the cake by myself...for breakfast.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Move B*tch
Driving in California is very different than driving in Texas. In Texas I would get in my car, back out of the driveway, drive at 80 miles per hour to where ever I was going, park in the parking lot and I was done.
In California there are two separate problems. The first is our hill. We live on an off-shoot of a really long, no-outlet road (for some reason it doesn’t say ‘dead end’, so be it). The road is clearly labeled at the bottom of the hill “NO OUTLET” but people seem to think they know better.
It’s a very long road, and there are probably about 2,000 people that live on the hill (we’re kind of squished in like nesting birds on a cliff). There are some circles and off-shoots (like we live on) but it all comes out only one way at the bottom of the hill. The main problem is that it’s a single lane road in most parts. And where the road is wide enough to have cars pass, people park in the street. And to top it off, the road is kinda crummy and steep and there is no sidewalk but tons of hikers that short cut up to the ridge from our street. So to even get to the main street takes at least 10 minutes. Longer if you get stuck behind someone who is lost or a garbage truck.
Due to the nature of the road you are only supposed to go 15 miles per hour, it would be hard to go much faster than that. And while it’s a single lane road, people travel up and down it, so you frequently have to pull over (suddenly) behind parked cars to let people by you, or back up because some stupid driver isn’t letting you go by. Plus all the blind switch-backs make it kind of exciting in a ‘I wonder if I’ll crash today?’ kind of way. And my favorite, on our off-shoot street there is one turn that goes parallel to the hill with houses and up-hillside to one side, and a crumbling street that drops off the steep hillside on the other. Oh, and it’s two cars wide at this point, but people park blocking one lane- forcing you to drive super close to the cliff edge while trying not to scratch their car on the other side.
SO, once you get down the hill you are on a real road. Congratulations. You still can’t go faster than 20 or 25 miles per hour anywhere, unless you get on the freeway but those are usually full of traffic so you’d be lucky to go 30 mph.
My morning commute right now is taking Justin to school (because there is no parking downtown and we refuse to pay $10 a day for parking in a garage). After we get down the hill in the morning, we then have to wind around Cal campus with it’s plethora of pedestrians. Walking it great, I have nothing against walking places. But if you are a pedestrian you have the responsibility to keep yourself safe. Cars, while they do have to yield to you in cross walks, CANNOT SEE YOU if you step out from between cars (parked up and down both sides of the street all the way, everywhere). I have enough to do watching the road, which consists of weird traffic circles with crosswalks, oddly placed and moveable stop signs depending on construction, construction; it’s workers and large machines and the potholes the size of my car they haven’t fixed yet. As well as making sure people don’t open their street parked car doors into traffic, avoiding buses merging back into the main road, and the stop lights that are so discrete you have to know they are there. So, no, mister or misses pedestrian don’t give me a dirty look if I have to screech to a halt so I don’t hit you when you aren’t using a cross walk.
This is when Ludacris “Move bitch, get out the way” starts playing in my head. I considered making it my car horn because yelling out the car window for them to “use a cross walk” makes Justin uncomfortable.
In California there are two separate problems. The first is our hill. We live on an off-shoot of a really long, no-outlet road (for some reason it doesn’t say ‘dead end’, so be it). The road is clearly labeled at the bottom of the hill “NO OUTLET” but people seem to think they know better.
It’s a very long road, and there are probably about 2,000 people that live on the hill (we’re kind of squished in like nesting birds on a cliff). There are some circles and off-shoots (like we live on) but it all comes out only one way at the bottom of the hill. The main problem is that it’s a single lane road in most parts. And where the road is wide enough to have cars pass, people park in the street. And to top it off, the road is kinda crummy and steep and there is no sidewalk but tons of hikers that short cut up to the ridge from our street. So to even get to the main street takes at least 10 minutes. Longer if you get stuck behind someone who is lost or a garbage truck.
Due to the nature of the road you are only supposed to go 15 miles per hour, it would be hard to go much faster than that. And while it’s a single lane road, people travel up and down it, so you frequently have to pull over (suddenly) behind parked cars to let people by you, or back up because some stupid driver isn’t letting you go by. Plus all the blind switch-backs make it kind of exciting in a ‘I wonder if I’ll crash today?’ kind of way. And my favorite, on our off-shoot street there is one turn that goes parallel to the hill with houses and up-hillside to one side, and a crumbling street that drops off the steep hillside on the other. Oh, and it’s two cars wide at this point, but people park blocking one lane- forcing you to drive super close to the cliff edge while trying not to scratch their car on the other side.
SO, once you get down the hill you are on a real road. Congratulations. You still can’t go faster than 20 or 25 miles per hour anywhere, unless you get on the freeway but those are usually full of traffic so you’d be lucky to go 30 mph.
My morning commute right now is taking Justin to school (because there is no parking downtown and we refuse to pay $10 a day for parking in a garage). After we get down the hill in the morning, we then have to wind around Cal campus with it’s plethora of pedestrians. Walking it great, I have nothing against walking places. But if you are a pedestrian you have the responsibility to keep yourself safe. Cars, while they do have to yield to you in cross walks, CANNOT SEE YOU if you step out from between cars (parked up and down both sides of the street all the way, everywhere). I have enough to do watching the road, which consists of weird traffic circles with crosswalks, oddly placed and moveable stop signs depending on construction, construction; it’s workers and large machines and the potholes the size of my car they haven’t fixed yet. As well as making sure people don’t open their street parked car doors into traffic, avoiding buses merging back into the main road, and the stop lights that are so discrete you have to know they are there. So, no, mister or misses pedestrian don’t give me a dirty look if I have to screech to a halt so I don’t hit you when you aren’t using a cross walk.
This is when Ludacris “Move bitch, get out the way” starts playing in my head. I considered making it my car horn because yelling out the car window for them to “use a cross walk” makes Justin uncomfortable.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Family Phrases
In our family, as in most every family, there are certain stories or phrases that stick around. They get retold even years after the event and even spawn their own meaning. I thought I’d share a few of our families phrases, antidotes, and private meanings. I'm sure I'll write more when I can.
"Chasing the Goat"
My Mom, Brother and I were visiting my grandparent’s house in California shortly after my Grandmother had died. My Grandfather still owned the house, but had recently moved to a retirement home. In the area of California that the house is, the hillsides are trimmed by herds of goats. The goats don’t live there all year, they are hired and herded onto the hills for this specific purpose. It’s a yearly event that our family always looks forward to. We enjoy animals, and the sight of our hill covered in goats is one that reminds us of Spain and pastoral things.
We had our visit, the goats had come and just gone and we were getting ready to fly home. It was the day of our flight, we were packed (except for Mom, who packs last minute like it’s a competitive sport). My brother and I were in the living room when we heard a goat on the hillside. But it couldn’t be, they had all left. With nothing else to do, we went to see where the sound was coming from. After some searching there was one goat left behind. It was a pretty white goat and she was very pregnant. We decided we should catch her and put her in our backyard so we could take care of her.
Well, that was our plan, but she didn’t agree with us. Not wanting to scare her, Nick and I slowly tried to corner her between us to herd her up the hill. All that happened was she lead us DOWN the hill. Down and down and down all the way to the bottom of the hill. There is a school at the bottom of the hill with a track and field that we ended up in. We started chasing the goat in earnest, and though she was pregnant two teenagers couldn’t catch her. I finally cornered her under some bleachers and grabbed her horn, but she started bucking so much I let her go for fear she would break her own neck trying to get away. After I had gotten that close, she took off around the track and up the other hill so fast we had no hope of catching up, so we went home.
We had only been in the living room and then the porch, and then the drive way, and then on the hill so gradually we didn’t think to tell anyone what we were doing, so they were looking for us when we got back. We were sweaty and dusty and luckily still had time to clean up before the flight left. But now anytime someone in our family does something before a flight that might make you miss it. We say, well we were chasing the goat (to run an errand, to pack, to clean) and almost missed our flight.
"What Bread?"
Most of these stories happen on vacation and with my brother, but that’s probably only because we had time and opportunity then. And my brother is just, well, himself.
We were visiting California one year for spring break, we went there a lot to see our beloved grandparents and family, and the weather. We had a lot of people in the car and we were looking for the perfect picnic spot. Mom was driving and she can be a little picky about picnic spots, so we were driving for a while. We had just come from the store and had all our food in the back and my brother was holding the bread so it wouldn’t get squished.
The bread in the Bay Area, if you haven’t had it, is amazing. Partly because there is a bakery here that is family run and all that jazz, and partly because everything tastes better on vacation. But never-the-less, the bread Nick was holding was special bread.
My brother also has the unfortunate problem of getting cranky when he’s hungry, he doesn’t think- he just looks for something to eat. Many a time he has wandered off looking for food and not told anyone, leaving us angry and worried while he turns up having eaten and not the least bit sheepish.
Well, I guess it was too long past lunch time when Mom finally found the ideal spot to stop. We started piling out of the car and setting up, unloading the food, etc and Mom asks Nick, “Do you still have that bread?” to which Nick replies “What bread?” through a muffled mouthful of the last bite of bread. He had eaten the WHOLE thing in the back of the car when no one was noticing. So now, when someone asks for something (usually food, and usually the last of a certain food) and someone else has eaten it (usually unknowingly) the response is always the same, “What bread?”.
"The Moruza Tour"
To start with, the name ‘Moruza’, is my mother’s maiden name. It’s also the name of all my cousins (since my Mom had two brothers) but the Moruzas we are talking about here are the old school Moruzas. Ito, Ita, Scott, Mom and Paul. Growing up, my Mom and her family traveled and lived abroad and saw many, many wonderful historical and cultural sights throughout Europe and in America. My grandfather, Ito as we call him, somehow got int habit of car tours, it was that era. And my Mother carries on the habit of playing tour guide and often, out of town guests are shown the whole town between arriving at the airport and finally arriving at the house.
To be fair, these car tours are the most in-depth and detailed tours one could hope for. You not only get historical facts and see the sights, you also get random factoids and see sights not available on any other tour. And these tours take you right to the door steps in expert chauffeur style. Sometimes you don’t even have to get out of the car at all!
Some famous family examples are: Ito dropping everyone off to see the Louvre in Paris for half an hour while he idled the car outside. Driving right to the edge of a Spanish sea cliff to show off the best view. Mom taking guests to see the Spanish Missions in San Antonio, ALL OF THEM (“not the missions!”). There are so many I can’t even start to name them all. If you watched a Moruza tour in fast forward it would consist of someone driving a big van full of people too close to historical and geological sights, everyone jumping out of the car for a few moments to take pictures, then getting back in to drive to the next sight. It’s the fastest way to see everything if you’re on a tight schedule, but it lacks the experience of being in a place. Though you do get familiar with the car.
So anytime we start out in the car someone will ask “is this going to be a Moruza tour?” and with good reason.
"Home James"
This is a short one, but a sweet one. My grandfather’s sister, great aunt Isabel, was married to great uncle Jim (we just called them Aunt Izzy and Uncle Jim). Uncle Jim was a joker and a funny, silly guy. So I guess one day he thought it would be funny to act like a chauffeur, and he told Aunt Izzy to give him commands, like “James, take me to the store” or “James, drive me to see Margaret and Tito”. Uncle Jim’s full name being James and James sounded more like a chauffeur’s name than Jim to him. The inevitable “Take me home James” turned into simply “Home, James” and it stuck.
Even after they stopped pretending, everyone in their family still jokingly said “Home James” when the were on their way home, even if Uncle Jim wasn’t driving. So my mother brought the phrase to our family and as children my brother and I would chirp “Home James!” not really understanding anything, but that we were headed home. And my mother would (and still does) respond to our “home james” with “home james”, almost like a question and a response.
My aunt Isabel is also the only person I’ve ever known who would make us say “You scream, I scream, we all scream for Ice cream” when she brought ice cream to us in the summer by her pool.
"Neon? How did you get in there?"
As a child I had (have) a huge number of stuffed animals, as I called them. I believe the proper term is “plush toys” but nobody calls them that. Besides having a great deal of toys, I also named them all and remembered their names, when I got them and who gave them to me. My family traveled a lot when my brother and I were younger (we still travel a lot, but now I don’t have to pack toys) and packing was hard for me. I wanted to bring everything with me, more to the point I wanted to bring everyONE with me. I felt all my toys had feelings and would be hurt if I didn’t take them along with me.
Well this particular trip we were going to Spain for a month to spend time with my grandparents. I had a duffel bag as big as I was (seven years old I believe) and I also had a keen fashion sense (read, it was the early 90’s) so my bag was full in no time. BUT I still wanted to bring a few more friends, my Mom said No and I was put to bed before the following long day. I went to bed, but after my Mom left the room I quietly got out of bed and managed to squish a few more stuffed animals in my bag, then I got back in bed and fell asleep.
Considering that my parents were traveling with a seven year old, and a nine year old, internationally, we had a pretty smooth day of traveling. My brother was really the one to get the short end of the stick, he had to help me carry my bag when I started to lag behind in the airport (we had a number of plane changes). Nick is and has always been a light packer and while my bag was bulging at the zipper, Nick's bag was probably only half full, so Mom made him switch bags with me.
He was a pretty good sport but probably dropped my bag too hard once or something and I, thinking of my little stuffed animal friends, told him to be more careful of my companions in the bag. He then asked me how many stuffed animals I had brought, I confided in him that I had brought a few more than was allowed. Then Nick got serious, “you mean you smuggled animals in?” he asked. I said, no I just packed a few more after Mom had left the room. Nick, with a straight face, points out a sign in the airport on the wall behind us; it read “No Smuggling Animals”. At this point in my life, I believed nearly everything my older brother told me, so I got serious too. What should I do? I asked. He told me to take my bag back and walk very carefully with it and to be very quiet. I was scared until we got on the plane. And Nick got away with the best trick ever.
It was hours later when we finally got to my Grandparents Farmhouse in Spain and my Mom was helping me unpack that I remembered my stowaways. She unzipped the bag and it practically exploded stuffed animals all over the room. I innocently picked up the first one I saw and addressing it said “Neon! how did you get in here? And Raspberry bear too?”. Thankfully my Mother has a sense of humor and just laughed. And all the animals came in handy, on the way home, my mom bought a bunch of ceramic Spanish plates, the stuffed animals provided adorable packing material between the plates. So whenever someone packs something, or brings something home from the store that they were told to leave behind, you simply act surprised and say “Neon, how did you get in here?”. (for the record, Neon was a neon yellow, pink and green colored mouse. And Raspberry bear was a raspberry colored bear. I said I named them all, not that they were original names).
More to come...
"Chasing the Goat"
My Mom, Brother and I were visiting my grandparent’s house in California shortly after my Grandmother had died. My Grandfather still owned the house, but had recently moved to a retirement home. In the area of California that the house is, the hillsides are trimmed by herds of goats. The goats don’t live there all year, they are hired and herded onto the hills for this specific purpose. It’s a yearly event that our family always looks forward to. We enjoy animals, and the sight of our hill covered in goats is one that reminds us of Spain and pastoral things.
We had our visit, the goats had come and just gone and we were getting ready to fly home. It was the day of our flight, we were packed (except for Mom, who packs last minute like it’s a competitive sport). My brother and I were in the living room when we heard a goat on the hillside. But it couldn’t be, they had all left. With nothing else to do, we went to see where the sound was coming from. After some searching there was one goat left behind. It was a pretty white goat and she was very pregnant. We decided we should catch her and put her in our backyard so we could take care of her.
Well, that was our plan, but she didn’t agree with us. Not wanting to scare her, Nick and I slowly tried to corner her between us to herd her up the hill. All that happened was she lead us DOWN the hill. Down and down and down all the way to the bottom of the hill. There is a school at the bottom of the hill with a track and field that we ended up in. We started chasing the goat in earnest, and though she was pregnant two teenagers couldn’t catch her. I finally cornered her under some bleachers and grabbed her horn, but she started bucking so much I let her go for fear she would break her own neck trying to get away. After I had gotten that close, she took off around the track and up the other hill so fast we had no hope of catching up, so we went home.
We had only been in the living room and then the porch, and then the drive way, and then on the hill so gradually we didn’t think to tell anyone what we were doing, so they were looking for us when we got back. We were sweaty and dusty and luckily still had time to clean up before the flight left. But now anytime someone in our family does something before a flight that might make you miss it. We say, well we were chasing the goat (to run an errand, to pack, to clean) and almost missed our flight.
"What Bread?"
Most of these stories happen on vacation and with my brother, but that’s probably only because we had time and opportunity then. And my brother is just, well, himself.
We were visiting California one year for spring break, we went there a lot to see our beloved grandparents and family, and the weather. We had a lot of people in the car and we were looking for the perfect picnic spot. Mom was driving and she can be a little picky about picnic spots, so we were driving for a while. We had just come from the store and had all our food in the back and my brother was holding the bread so it wouldn’t get squished.
The bread in the Bay Area, if you haven’t had it, is amazing. Partly because there is a bakery here that is family run and all that jazz, and partly because everything tastes better on vacation. But never-the-less, the bread Nick was holding was special bread.
My brother also has the unfortunate problem of getting cranky when he’s hungry, he doesn’t think- he just looks for something to eat. Many a time he has wandered off looking for food and not told anyone, leaving us angry and worried while he turns up having eaten and not the least bit sheepish.
Well, I guess it was too long past lunch time when Mom finally found the ideal spot to stop. We started piling out of the car and setting up, unloading the food, etc and Mom asks Nick, “Do you still have that bread?” to which Nick replies “What bread?” through a muffled mouthful of the last bite of bread. He had eaten the WHOLE thing in the back of the car when no one was noticing. So now, when someone asks for something (usually food, and usually the last of a certain food) and someone else has eaten it (usually unknowingly) the response is always the same, “What bread?”.
"The Moruza Tour"
To start with, the name ‘Moruza’, is my mother’s maiden name. It’s also the name of all my cousins (since my Mom had two brothers) but the Moruzas we are talking about here are the old school Moruzas. Ito, Ita, Scott, Mom and Paul. Growing up, my Mom and her family traveled and lived abroad and saw many, many wonderful historical and cultural sights throughout Europe and in America. My grandfather, Ito as we call him, somehow got int habit of car tours, it was that era. And my Mother carries on the habit of playing tour guide and often, out of town guests are shown the whole town between arriving at the airport and finally arriving at the house.
To be fair, these car tours are the most in-depth and detailed tours one could hope for. You not only get historical facts and see the sights, you also get random factoids and see sights not available on any other tour. And these tours take you right to the door steps in expert chauffeur style. Sometimes you don’t even have to get out of the car at all!
Some famous family examples are: Ito dropping everyone off to see the Louvre in Paris for half an hour while he idled the car outside. Driving right to the edge of a Spanish sea cliff to show off the best view. Mom taking guests to see the Spanish Missions in San Antonio, ALL OF THEM (“not the missions!”). There are so many I can’t even start to name them all. If you watched a Moruza tour in fast forward it would consist of someone driving a big van full of people too close to historical and geological sights, everyone jumping out of the car for a few moments to take pictures, then getting back in to drive to the next sight. It’s the fastest way to see everything if you’re on a tight schedule, but it lacks the experience of being in a place. Though you do get familiar with the car.
So anytime we start out in the car someone will ask “is this going to be a Moruza tour?” and with good reason.
"Home James"
This is a short one, but a sweet one. My grandfather’s sister, great aunt Isabel, was married to great uncle Jim (we just called them Aunt Izzy and Uncle Jim). Uncle Jim was a joker and a funny, silly guy. So I guess one day he thought it would be funny to act like a chauffeur, and he told Aunt Izzy to give him commands, like “James, take me to the store” or “James, drive me to see Margaret and Tito”. Uncle Jim’s full name being James and James sounded more like a chauffeur’s name than Jim to him. The inevitable “Take me home James” turned into simply “Home, James” and it stuck.
Even after they stopped pretending, everyone in their family still jokingly said “Home James” when the were on their way home, even if Uncle Jim wasn’t driving. So my mother brought the phrase to our family and as children my brother and I would chirp “Home James!” not really understanding anything, but that we were headed home. And my mother would (and still does) respond to our “home james” with “home james”, almost like a question and a response.
My aunt Isabel is also the only person I’ve ever known who would make us say “You scream, I scream, we all scream for Ice cream” when she brought ice cream to us in the summer by her pool.
"Neon? How did you get in there?"
As a child I had (have) a huge number of stuffed animals, as I called them. I believe the proper term is “plush toys” but nobody calls them that. Besides having a great deal of toys, I also named them all and remembered their names, when I got them and who gave them to me. My family traveled a lot when my brother and I were younger (we still travel a lot, but now I don’t have to pack toys) and packing was hard for me. I wanted to bring everything with me, more to the point I wanted to bring everyONE with me. I felt all my toys had feelings and would be hurt if I didn’t take them along with me.
Well this particular trip we were going to Spain for a month to spend time with my grandparents. I had a duffel bag as big as I was (seven years old I believe) and I also had a keen fashion sense (read, it was the early 90’s) so my bag was full in no time. BUT I still wanted to bring a few more friends, my Mom said No and I was put to bed before the following long day. I went to bed, but after my Mom left the room I quietly got out of bed and managed to squish a few more stuffed animals in my bag, then I got back in bed and fell asleep.
Considering that my parents were traveling with a seven year old, and a nine year old, internationally, we had a pretty smooth day of traveling. My brother was really the one to get the short end of the stick, he had to help me carry my bag when I started to lag behind in the airport (we had a number of plane changes). Nick is and has always been a light packer and while my bag was bulging at the zipper, Nick's bag was probably only half full, so Mom made him switch bags with me.
He was a pretty good sport but probably dropped my bag too hard once or something and I, thinking of my little stuffed animal friends, told him to be more careful of my companions in the bag. He then asked me how many stuffed animals I had brought, I confided in him that I had brought a few more than was allowed. Then Nick got serious, “you mean you smuggled animals in?” he asked. I said, no I just packed a few more after Mom had left the room. Nick, with a straight face, points out a sign in the airport on the wall behind us; it read “No Smuggling Animals”. At this point in my life, I believed nearly everything my older brother told me, so I got serious too. What should I do? I asked. He told me to take my bag back and walk very carefully with it and to be very quiet. I was scared until we got on the plane. And Nick got away with the best trick ever.
It was hours later when we finally got to my Grandparents Farmhouse in Spain and my Mom was helping me unpack that I remembered my stowaways. She unzipped the bag and it practically exploded stuffed animals all over the room. I innocently picked up the first one I saw and addressing it said “Neon! how did you get in here? And Raspberry bear too?”. Thankfully my Mother has a sense of humor and just laughed. And all the animals came in handy, on the way home, my mom bought a bunch of ceramic Spanish plates, the stuffed animals provided adorable packing material between the plates. So whenever someone packs something, or brings something home from the store that they were told to leave behind, you simply act surprised and say “Neon, how did you get in here?”. (for the record, Neon was a neon yellow, pink and green colored mouse. And Raspberry bear was a raspberry colored bear. I said I named them all, not that they were original names).
More to come...
Friday, February 24, 2012
The Care and Keeping of Lucy
When your Lucy arrives, you are no doubt thrilled by her bright eyes, warm smile (with dimple!) and glossy brown hair. There are many wonderful things your Lucy can do, and she is a wonderful companion, but you have to keep her in good condition or you won’t be satisfied with her attitude.
1) Your Lucy loves to be active, but she needs her sleep at night, naps only make her grumpier so they are not a fix. You can tell your Lucy is tired because of her delayed reaction times in conversation, as well as trouble finding the rights words and she will default to speaking without any nouns what-so-ever. She will also be squinty eyed and probably have bed-hair, and be dressed in the most comfortable thing that is socially appropriate (ie sweat pants) Also she will be in a general bad mood, and will not enjoy any outings.
Most common fixes for complaints of being tired are; check and make sure the room is cool enough at night, make sure the cat is put out of the bedroom for the night, make sure your Lucy doesn’t eat candy or sugar too close to bedtime, be sure back-lit screens are not used within 1/2 hour of sleep time (TV, lap top, ipad, etc. Kindle is okay), be sure it’s not too bright in the bedroom at night (but black-out curtains backfire and your Lucy will not be able to wake up without natural light). If your Lucy is tired and you MUST take her somewhere, make sure she is well fed and give her some sugar (just not too close to bedtime).
2) Your Lucy is generally not picky with her food, until she is TOO hungry, it’s a mode called “over-hungry” and is very hard to get out of because while she is hungry nothing sounds good to eat, and she becomes incapable of making food for herself. Signs of being over-hungry are: walking back and forth in the kitchen, opening the fridge but closing it each time without taking anything out, loud sighs, slight headache, heightened sense of smell (leftovers become unappealing at this point), meltdown over-hungry signs are; becoming teary when food is offered but doesn’t sound appealing, and flopping dramatically onto bed or couch.
This is an easy fix, but an easier thing to avoid all together. First, make sure there is enough fresh food in the house, and/or a well stocked pantry so your Lucy can make food for herself. Also, remind her that she Has to eat lunch, your Lucy will often forget lunch and then become over-hungry too close to dinner which leads to more frustration. When your Lucy goes into over-hungry mode, stop asking her what sounds good to eat and make a grilled cheese sandwich. If you are unable to make the sandwich for whatever reason, get her a bowl of cereal. It will be enough food to tide her over until dinner and it will make her more reasonable in the mean time.
3) Another common issue your Lucy might have is called “shower envy”. This is also an easy thing to avoid, but here’s what it is. Shower envy occurs every 2-3 days (start counting from a shower taken), your Lucy likes to be clean and will want to clean herself 2-3 days after her last shower. If she is unable to do so (traveling, busy, no shampoo, cold water, whatever) she will become irritable and take longer to get ready if going somewhere because she is compensating for feeling gross. If everyone is the same perceived level of grossness- things are fine, minus the longer prep time. But if one person in the party (or family) takes a shower and your Lucy is unable to do so also because of time restraint AND you have to go somewhere, your Lucy will not be happy, and will likely refuse to go anywhere at all.
As I mentioned, this is an easy fix, just make sure you leave enough time for everyone to shower if you are going somewhere later. You can prompt your Lucy by saying, ‘I’m going to take a shower now, but we still have X amount of time before we have to be at Y’. After you have taken a shower, there is no possible cure for shower envy except to let her take a shower too.
4) The “nothing to wear” syndrome is less common, hard to deal with at the time but easy to prevent. This syndrome usually strikes with you are already running late, are going some place new, or don’t know the temperature of the place you are going. Your Lucy, while cute and loving, is a creature of habit and doesn’t like to be uncomfortable.
The easiest fix at the time is to encourage your Lucy to wear something comfortable and that she usually wears. During the I Have Nothing to Wear is NOT the time to try something new. Reassure her that she looks wonderful and keep her from staring into her closest, it’s over whelming and she doesn’t wear any of those clothes anyway. TIP: also make sure she is wearing comfortable, tried and true, foot wear. Now is also not the time to see if those cute, but pinching shoes have broken in yet.
Some other issues users have reported are:
Your Lucy runs late consistently, mornings are usually a rush so don’t introduce anything new during the ‘get ready and out the door’ routine. Also don’t play that game where you tell her something starts earlier than it does, you will end up with a rushed Lucy who is unhappy at being fooled, vs being late but with a put-together Lucy. Just tell her when you want to be walking out the door, and she will try her best to be ready then.
Don’t be surprised while window shopping if your Lucy is suddenly missing, just look for the area with the most cute things and she will be there. Also, shiny things and brightly colored things draw her attention.
If she complains of a head ache, remind her to drink some water, it is always, always because she hasn’t been drinking enough water.
When traveling, your Lucy will often over pack, but she always carries what she packs, so the only thing you can do is encourage her that 10 tank tops is too many for a weekend trip.
At home, your Lucy likes to display things, but is made lethargic by clutter. If you are putting her in a cluttered space, be prepared because she Will de-clutter with or without your permission.
Your Lucy will sometimes be overwhelmed by too many loud people or fast moving cars. This is normal and can’t be helped. If you can, move her away from the loud area or people and try walking if you are in an area that supports alternative transpiration, if you can’t walk, suggest that she drive as she will feel more in control of the speed. If neither is possible, now is a good time to listen to an ipod or talk about cute kitties.
Your Lucy is a fun, but delicate creature, and you must become familiar with her body language and facial expressions. While her facial expressions may seem negative or hard to decipher at first, know that she is not mad (she’ll tell you) and that knowing your Lucy is a rewarding experience that will give you many years of companionship. Take care, and enjoy her!
1) Your Lucy loves to be active, but she needs her sleep at night, naps only make her grumpier so they are not a fix. You can tell your Lucy is tired because of her delayed reaction times in conversation, as well as trouble finding the rights words and she will default to speaking without any nouns what-so-ever. She will also be squinty eyed and probably have bed-hair, and be dressed in the most comfortable thing that is socially appropriate (ie sweat pants) Also she will be in a general bad mood, and will not enjoy any outings.
Most common fixes for complaints of being tired are; check and make sure the room is cool enough at night, make sure the cat is put out of the bedroom for the night, make sure your Lucy doesn’t eat candy or sugar too close to bedtime, be sure back-lit screens are not used within 1/2 hour of sleep time (TV, lap top, ipad, etc. Kindle is okay), be sure it’s not too bright in the bedroom at night (but black-out curtains backfire and your Lucy will not be able to wake up without natural light). If your Lucy is tired and you MUST take her somewhere, make sure she is well fed and give her some sugar (just not too close to bedtime).
2) Your Lucy is generally not picky with her food, until she is TOO hungry, it’s a mode called “over-hungry” and is very hard to get out of because while she is hungry nothing sounds good to eat, and she becomes incapable of making food for herself. Signs of being over-hungry are: walking back and forth in the kitchen, opening the fridge but closing it each time without taking anything out, loud sighs, slight headache, heightened sense of smell (leftovers become unappealing at this point), meltdown over-hungry signs are; becoming teary when food is offered but doesn’t sound appealing, and flopping dramatically onto bed or couch.
This is an easy fix, but an easier thing to avoid all together. First, make sure there is enough fresh food in the house, and/or a well stocked pantry so your Lucy can make food for herself. Also, remind her that she Has to eat lunch, your Lucy will often forget lunch and then become over-hungry too close to dinner which leads to more frustration. When your Lucy goes into over-hungry mode, stop asking her what sounds good to eat and make a grilled cheese sandwich. If you are unable to make the sandwich for whatever reason, get her a bowl of cereal. It will be enough food to tide her over until dinner and it will make her more reasonable in the mean time.
3) Another common issue your Lucy might have is called “shower envy”. This is also an easy thing to avoid, but here’s what it is. Shower envy occurs every 2-3 days (start counting from a shower taken), your Lucy likes to be clean and will want to clean herself 2-3 days after her last shower. If she is unable to do so (traveling, busy, no shampoo, cold water, whatever) she will become irritable and take longer to get ready if going somewhere because she is compensating for feeling gross. If everyone is the same perceived level of grossness- things are fine, minus the longer prep time. But if one person in the party (or family) takes a shower and your Lucy is unable to do so also because of time restraint AND you have to go somewhere, your Lucy will not be happy, and will likely refuse to go anywhere at all.
As I mentioned, this is an easy fix, just make sure you leave enough time for everyone to shower if you are going somewhere later. You can prompt your Lucy by saying, ‘I’m going to take a shower now, but we still have X amount of time before we have to be at Y’. After you have taken a shower, there is no possible cure for shower envy except to let her take a shower too.
4) The “nothing to wear” syndrome is less common, hard to deal with at the time but easy to prevent. This syndrome usually strikes with you are already running late, are going some place new, or don’t know the temperature of the place you are going. Your Lucy, while cute and loving, is a creature of habit and doesn’t like to be uncomfortable.
The easiest fix at the time is to encourage your Lucy to wear something comfortable and that she usually wears. During the I Have Nothing to Wear is NOT the time to try something new. Reassure her that she looks wonderful and keep her from staring into her closest, it’s over whelming and she doesn’t wear any of those clothes anyway. TIP: also make sure she is wearing comfortable, tried and true, foot wear. Now is also not the time to see if those cute, but pinching shoes have broken in yet.
Some other issues users have reported are:
Your Lucy runs late consistently, mornings are usually a rush so don’t introduce anything new during the ‘get ready and out the door’ routine. Also don’t play that game where you tell her something starts earlier than it does, you will end up with a rushed Lucy who is unhappy at being fooled, vs being late but with a put-together Lucy. Just tell her when you want to be walking out the door, and she will try her best to be ready then.
Don’t be surprised while window shopping if your Lucy is suddenly missing, just look for the area with the most cute things and she will be there. Also, shiny things and brightly colored things draw her attention.
If she complains of a head ache, remind her to drink some water, it is always, always because she hasn’t been drinking enough water.
When traveling, your Lucy will often over pack, but she always carries what she packs, so the only thing you can do is encourage her that 10 tank tops is too many for a weekend trip.
At home, your Lucy likes to display things, but is made lethargic by clutter. If you are putting her in a cluttered space, be prepared because she Will de-clutter with or without your permission.
Your Lucy will sometimes be overwhelmed by too many loud people or fast moving cars. This is normal and can’t be helped. If you can, move her away from the loud area or people and try walking if you are in an area that supports alternative transpiration, if you can’t walk, suggest that she drive as she will feel more in control of the speed. If neither is possible, now is a good time to listen to an ipod or talk about cute kitties.
Your Lucy is a fun, but delicate creature, and you must become familiar with her body language and facial expressions. While her facial expressions may seem negative or hard to decipher at first, know that she is not mad (she’ll tell you) and that knowing your Lucy is a rewarding experience that will give you many years of companionship. Take care, and enjoy her!
Monday, January 30, 2012
Order Up!
I’ve been told that in the Army (and other military services) one is supposed to receive ones orders up to 180 days out from your end of duty date. Well, by that count, Justin was supposed to get his orders in November. It’s January, the END of January and we got them this week. This may not seem like a big deal if you don’t know what all this means, but since we are moving out of our apartment and flying to California etc, it’s a big deal.
First of all, we needed his orders more than a month ago because our landlords needed a 30 day move out written thingamajigger. And I didn’t know when we should move out because we didn’t know when Justin would be sent to San Antonio for out-processing (side note: they can out process him here, but he was told he had to go to San Antonio initially). So we made our best guess and signed our 30 day advanced notice.
Also, you need the orders to schedule two different sets of movers to come to your house and pick/pack up your furniture and unaccompanied baggage.
And I had to buy a plane ticket far enough in advance that I’d get one of the three pet-in-cabin spots. But I didn’t really know when I should leave. (See post: Plane Tickets) and I actually had to change my plane ticket, which thankfully wasn’t too expensive but it was a huge pain.
That, and since we are ETSing and not PCSing the Army doesn’t put you up in a hotel, not when you’re getting out. Justin gets a barracks room again, but that doesn’t include me or the cat. So our lovely friends said we could stay with them (kitty too) but I had to give her vague dates ranging from a few days to two weeks as for how long we’d be staying with them.
Then there is the housing allowance (which is tied to where ever I am) that needs to be changed once we leave the apartment (and I get back to the states).
Plus the ‘eating down’ plan, where you try and deplete your pantry since you’re moving and only buy very few things like milk and eggs.
There are about a dozen other things that need to be done, signed or checked off that Justin is taking care of- but with the short notice, semi-non-responsive chain of command, and confusion of leaving the Army plus moving home from overseas- it’s been complicated and time consuming. And did I mention the semi language barrier? Yeah, that’s a fun one.
Luckily things are well in hand, and the apartment, movers, and plane ticket are basically taken care of (*knock on wood*) so that leaves me sorting out house hold stuff that can’t be packed (liquids, flammables, perishables, valuables, etc) and figuring out if I should pack all my clothes and shoes in checked baggage or let some of them be packed with unaccompanied baggage.
Usually I just throw everything in baskets in my car and caravan when I move, but this is so worth it- we’re going home!
First of all, we needed his orders more than a month ago because our landlords needed a 30 day move out written thingamajigger. And I didn’t know when we should move out because we didn’t know when Justin would be sent to San Antonio for out-processing (side note: they can out process him here, but he was told he had to go to San Antonio initially). So we made our best guess and signed our 30 day advanced notice.
Also, you need the orders to schedule two different sets of movers to come to your house and pick/pack up your furniture and unaccompanied baggage.
And I had to buy a plane ticket far enough in advance that I’d get one of the three pet-in-cabin spots. But I didn’t really know when I should leave. (See post: Plane Tickets) and I actually had to change my plane ticket, which thankfully wasn’t too expensive but it was a huge pain.
That, and since we are ETSing and not PCSing the Army doesn’t put you up in a hotel, not when you’re getting out. Justin gets a barracks room again, but that doesn’t include me or the cat. So our lovely friends said we could stay with them (kitty too) but I had to give her vague dates ranging from a few days to two weeks as for how long we’d be staying with them.
Then there is the housing allowance (which is tied to where ever I am) that needs to be changed once we leave the apartment (and I get back to the states).
Plus the ‘eating down’ plan, where you try and deplete your pantry since you’re moving and only buy very few things like milk and eggs.
There are about a dozen other things that need to be done, signed or checked off that Justin is taking care of- but with the short notice, semi-non-responsive chain of command, and confusion of leaving the Army plus moving home from overseas- it’s been complicated and time consuming. And did I mention the semi language barrier? Yeah, that’s a fun one.
Luckily things are well in hand, and the apartment, movers, and plane ticket are basically taken care of (*knock on wood*) so that leaves me sorting out house hold stuff that can’t be packed (liquids, flammables, perishables, valuables, etc) and figuring out if I should pack all my clothes and shoes in checked baggage or let some of them be packed with unaccompanied baggage.
Usually I just throw everything in baskets in my car and caravan when I move, but this is so worth it- we’re going home!
Monday, January 2, 2012
New Years!!!
Justin and I had a GREAT new years eve by the way. We had some wine and played with the Legos I bought him for Christmas. Then at midnight we stepped outside onto our back patio and heard everyone at the clubs and restaurants on Itaewon cheering and setting off fire crackers and fireworks a little further out. We toasted silently and had a new years kiss (of course). Happy New Years 2012
Plane Tickets
One of the expensive/stressful/annoying things about living overseas is buying plane tickets home. It makes me wish for the days when all I had to think about was buying a ticket from Texas to California, or just between cities in the same state. Now I have to hope that no one buys the seat next to me so I can try and sleep on the 10-12 hour flight.
Also when you fly with pets in cabin (vs under the plane, I don't know anything about that, or shipping them cargo) you have to call and make sure that one of the three available spots is open on your flight (they only have three pets allowed in cabin per flight, ?!?) Then you have to buy your ticket, call the airline back and reserve an in-cabin spot for your pet. You don't pay for the pet ticket until you get to the airport and everything checks out (the airlines have to approve your carrier, the size and weight of your pet, and you have to have health travel papers for your pet too, plus whatever else is required for international travel depending on where your are going and coming from).
So I was getting pretty excited about moving home and wanted to buy my plane ticket soon so I could be sure to get my cat's place reserved too. Justin hadn't received his order yet (which tell us the dates he has to be in Texas for out processing, hence telling me what day I should fly out). So we just made our best guess as to when he would be sent to out processing and I bought my ticket.
Actually it wasn't as simple as that. I had to call United airlines a number of times (my billing address was wrong on my debit card and it caused a major delay), I timed the last two times I had to call them and each start-to-finish-get-a-person-on-the-phone was 46 minutes. Let me say that again, EACH TIME I CALLED IT TOOK 46 MINUTES TO GET A REAL PERSON. The people I eventually talked to were really nice (definitely in India), it just took for-ev-er to get to them. Oh, the best part was, it was like 2AM in Korea so I could call during business hours- but it didn't help. After I called my bank to see why my billing address was wrong and fixed it; I finally, finally (two days later and multiple 46 minute hold times) bought my ticket (I was also trying to use a 20% off coupon I had been given because the last flight I had been on had a 12 hour delay. AND I had to reserve a cat in-cabin space. AND I had to buy my Economy Plus ticket, with it's 5 "extra" inches of leg room, otherwise I can't even push the cat carrier past the seat to the floor to slide it under the seat in front of me. Extra room my foot!!).
As a side note, my ENTIRE call to my bank took 9 minutes. And I didn't have to resort to the NATO phonetic alphabet to talk to him either. (of course when I DO use the phonetic alphabet, I just make it up and sound... fantastically uneducated).
I was thrilled and emailed and called everyone who would care to tell them I had bought my plane ticket.
Flash forward a few weeks.
Justin gets his paper work turned back to him because the people who needed to do their job didn't (basic Army nonsense). And then he turns in more paper work and is told that his dates are going to be later, but no, they still didn't have his orders.
So I had a choice to make; the new dates that Justin would be leaving put me in California without him for almost 5 weeks. I didn't want to be apart from him for that long for one thing. For another thing, I didn't want to leave him alone in Korea for that long (without even the cat to keep him company, because Gambit had to fly with me). And, I wanted to be there to help "close up shop", ship our person items, return our loaned army furniture and be there with the paper work that says they never delivered some of it when they try and charge us for stuff we never got. AND most importantly I wanted to be there when we closed out our apartment with the landlords so we could get our deposit back. You usually get the deposit back and we kept the place flawless and it's a hell of a lot of money that I AM going to get back.
All of these things added together means that I have to call the airlines and change my flight. I put it off for a while, but I finally called them and checked on a few things, like how much it could cost to change my flight, if the new date I was looking at had a pet in-cabin space, etc. I'm waiting until next week to actually change my flight in the hopes that Justin's orders will finally come through (he was supposed to get them in November btw) but if they don't I have to change my flight soon because my old fly date is Jan 18th.
After I get home and Justin is home with me too, I think we aren't going to fly anywhere for a while.
Also when you fly with pets in cabin (vs under the plane, I don't know anything about that, or shipping them cargo) you have to call and make sure that one of the three available spots is open on your flight (they only have three pets allowed in cabin per flight, ?!?) Then you have to buy your ticket, call the airline back and reserve an in-cabin spot for your pet. You don't pay for the pet ticket until you get to the airport and everything checks out (the airlines have to approve your carrier, the size and weight of your pet, and you have to have health travel papers for your pet too, plus whatever else is required for international travel depending on where your are going and coming from).
So I was getting pretty excited about moving home and wanted to buy my plane ticket soon so I could be sure to get my cat's place reserved too. Justin hadn't received his order yet (which tell us the dates he has to be in Texas for out processing, hence telling me what day I should fly out). So we just made our best guess as to when he would be sent to out processing and I bought my ticket.
Actually it wasn't as simple as that. I had to call United airlines a number of times (my billing address was wrong on my debit card and it caused a major delay), I timed the last two times I had to call them and each start-to-finish-get-a-person-on-the-phone was 46 minutes. Let me say that again, EACH TIME I CALLED IT TOOK 46 MINUTES TO GET A REAL PERSON. The people I eventually talked to were really nice (definitely in India), it just took for-ev-er to get to them. Oh, the best part was, it was like 2AM in Korea so I could call during business hours- but it didn't help. After I called my bank to see why my billing address was wrong and fixed it; I finally, finally (two days later and multiple 46 minute hold times) bought my ticket (I was also trying to use a 20% off coupon I had been given because the last flight I had been on had a 12 hour delay. AND I had to reserve a cat in-cabin space. AND I had to buy my Economy Plus ticket, with it's 5 "extra" inches of leg room, otherwise I can't even push the cat carrier past the seat to the floor to slide it under the seat in front of me. Extra room my foot!!).
As a side note, my ENTIRE call to my bank took 9 minutes. And I didn't have to resort to the NATO phonetic alphabet to talk to him either. (of course when I DO use the phonetic alphabet, I just make it up and sound... fantastically uneducated).
I was thrilled and emailed and called everyone who would care to tell them I had bought my plane ticket.
Flash forward a few weeks.
Justin gets his paper work turned back to him because the people who needed to do their job didn't (basic Army nonsense). And then he turns in more paper work and is told that his dates are going to be later, but no, they still didn't have his orders.
So I had a choice to make; the new dates that Justin would be leaving put me in California without him for almost 5 weeks. I didn't want to be apart from him for that long for one thing. For another thing, I didn't want to leave him alone in Korea for that long (without even the cat to keep him company, because Gambit had to fly with me). And, I wanted to be there to help "close up shop", ship our person items, return our loaned army furniture and be there with the paper work that says they never delivered some of it when they try and charge us for stuff we never got. AND most importantly I wanted to be there when we closed out our apartment with the landlords so we could get our deposit back. You usually get the deposit back and we kept the place flawless and it's a hell of a lot of money that I AM going to get back.
All of these things added together means that I have to call the airlines and change my flight. I put it off for a while, but I finally called them and checked on a few things, like how much it could cost to change my flight, if the new date I was looking at had a pet in-cabin space, etc. I'm waiting until next week to actually change my flight in the hopes that Justin's orders will finally come through (he was supposed to get them in November btw) but if they don't I have to change my flight soon because my old fly date is Jan 18th.
After I get home and Justin is home with me too, I think we aren't going to fly anywhere for a while.
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