Tired

Oh boy. Today was crazy. Ok, not crazy. But work, real work.

I woke up around 7am and got right to work sorting, moving and packing. I was heading out to the coffee shop around the block to get some coffee and check my email. One neighbor waylaid me on the way out to ask if we could go to the bank later than planned. (Three of us planned to go to the bank to change/correct the very, very, VERY out of date signature card.) I said fine. My tenant, Ken, was also supposed to come over in the morning so I could give him keys, we could sign the lease and so he could hand me a check. He was running late too, so that was fine: more coffee shop time.

I got back home around 9:30. Shortly after, Ken arrived. I walked him through the house, demonstrated how the alarm worked, showed him the funky back gate and the basement. We also figured out where the battery was in the van (would you have guessed under the front passenger seat?). (I've been told I need to disconnect the battery if I let it sit for a long time, but I wanted Kenny to be able to reconnect it if he needs to move the van.)

We talked things over, went down to the basement, he carried a table down there for me. Then I noticed it was 11:30am--the bank closes at noon. Ken left and I knocked on the neighbor's door. Her baby was still sleeping (the reason for the delay) but she agreed to wake him. We grabbed the other neighbor and the four of us walked the three blocks to the bank. It took a while but we got everything done and I had a good time making faces at the baby.

Back home, I heard the current status of the neighbor who lives directly above me. She is going through a rough time right now. I like her fine and I was happy to talk to her. Her timing wasn't great but I can't fault her for that. Maybe we'll spend a little more friendly time together when I get back.

Then, after moving a few more things to the basement, it was time to go to Pele's house to drop off my bike and feed her cat. On the way there, I called Mom.

I complained about how hard this all is and I said, "It better be worth it!"

Mom said, "Well, you'll find out."

Nice, Mom. Everyone else has responded, "It will be."

I dropped the bike off at Pele's then went to pick up some lunch at the Salvadoran place around the corner. I came back, fed the cat and put on a DVD. This was my designated break time.

Pele's cat became my best friend! She sat next to me almost the entire time I was there and demanded extensive petting and scratching. I was happy to oblige.

I headed home and got back to work. Then, in a fit of what I can only term insanity, I trimmed some of the plants in the back yard. Dude! What is wrong with me?

I moved almost everything to the back room that either will stay there, go to the basement or be thrown away. The stuff does NOT fill the room.

I had a fleeting idea that I would go to the coffee shop for more internet time then stop by Union Station for a movie. When 8pm rolled around and I hadn't gotten in the shower yet, I decided to nix that plan.

My suitcases have been partially filled since last weekend when Diego came over to help me with clothing decisions. One bag was filled with the clothing Diego picked out for me and the other was collecting items as I came upon them. I stuffed a whole bunch of additional stuff in the clothing bag and weighed it (first me, then me+bag): 38 pounds! My total weight limit is 80 pounds.

I realized I needed to unpack both bags and see exactly what I'm bringing. Plus, I still have to fold and store a couple of boxes worth of clothing. Oy!

It was almost 8:30 and I'd managed to pull everything out of both bags and fold and pile most of it. I forced myself to stop for dinner. It's not too much clothing. The weight was coming from a few books, and excessive amount of toiletries and all the knitting paraphernalia. I'll probably leave a couple of the books and pare down the toiletries. All knitting gear must come! (It's not all the knitting stuff I own, just needles that would be very expensive to replace and, um, a whole bunch of yarn. Some of the yarn can stay.)

One friend of mine was surprised that I was bringing three bags--two checked and one carry-on. It is definitely more than I usually bring on a trip--but it's six months! I don't want to feel deprived and go shopping. I don't want to spend money on clothing--I want to save it for entertainment, food and travel. Plus, I'll have all the regular living expenses: laundry, household items, public transportation, etc.

It's 9:15pm now and I'm watching some tv, doing laundry and thinking about what else I have to eat in the house. I may do a little more packing tonight--and laundry folding. Tomorrow I will move the rest of the clothing I'm not bringing to the back and take everything that goes to basement to the basement. Take out the trash. Clean the bathroom, mop the kitchen, and vacuum the back room. Also, go to the office to deposit Ken's check, go out for coffee and, very last, have dinner with friends!!!

Another full day. Oy!

Grateful for: one day closer to France!

PS Whoever's wifi I'm stealing: thank you very much!!!

Crazy/Packing

I feel crazy and discouraged. I just found out that the ATM card for my Capital One account (the one that charges no fees on withdrawals overseas) will not arrive until after I'm in Europe. I got so angry! I started swearing under my breath and had to hang up before I started screaming at the lady on the other end of the line. She also slightly chastised me for asking how a second party (my renter) could deposit money into my account, "This account wasn't set up for that kind of thing." Great. Sue me for asking a damn question! They won't even accept a wire transfer from a second party account! Amazing.

So, I went to my credit union (in the building) and it turns out they DO accept second party wire transfers. Worst case, my renter can transfer the money there and then I can transfer it from the credit union to CapOne. Event though I'm angry at them. The credit union does charge a one-dollar fee for each ATM transaction, but no foreign exchange fee, so I can use them to get cash at least until I get the CapOne ATM card. Lord, why are things so complicated? It's me, I know. I should have just used the credit union right along. But I hate fees! And, the interest rate on the savings is a joke...so, it's complicated, but worthwhile and it will all work. I just wish this were all resolved completely by now and that I wasn't still putting out fires. Argh!

I'm in the middle of packing my office. Why? Because we're scheduled to move sometime soon. No one knows when or where (just moving down the hall? or having the entire space converted to cubicles?). Nevertheless, I have to pack. I have so many books and files here, it's ridiculous. I toted a lot of my personal sociology library over here and originally, I meant to take these home, along with some of the personal files I keep at the office for convenience. I ran out of time and energy for that, however, so into boxes it all goes. I've filled ten so far. I have at least two or three more to go.

This morning, in another round of "move boxes around and see how to fit them most efficiently in to the available closet space," I slipped down my step ladder and scraped the underside of my foot. Note to self: WEAR SHOES while moving heavy boxes. Now, I have a bruise under my toes! I'm lucky it wasn't worse, though, and I regained my footing without falling down. This would be a perfect time to break a bone or sprain something. Perish the thought!

The problem I'm facing isn't so much a lack of time but a lack of energy. The office packing is so wearing that when I get home, I just want to relax and go to bed early, when what I really need to do is pack a little more and move things into the back closets. Well, worst case, I do most everything that's left to do on Saturday. Not ideal, but it should be enough time.

When will the cleaning get done, though, I wonder?

Grateful for: the organizational skills that have carried me this far.

Verizon, you're killing me

Apparently, I'm much more comfortable with product pans than with glowing reviews. (Oh, you know what I can rave about? "ScribeFire" it's a Firefox add-on I'm composing in right now. Awesome! Among it' wonderful features: easy posting to several blogs without having to go to the blogger site and log in--handy for those of us with several secret identities. Who me? Not me.)

So, I have this long list of things I've done to prepare for my trip. Most are completed (in no particular order):

• Find reasonable no-fee banking situation
• Cancel/suspend Netflix
• Cancel electric service
• Cancel gas service
• Lower student loan payments
• Route mortgage payments through new bank account
• Hand over treasurer duties to condo-mates (sorta)
• Email European friends about plans
• Get rid of tons of clothing and miscellaneous other junk
• Cancel/suspend cell phone
• Cancel US health insurance
• Buy European health insurance
• Get French Visa
• Assemble enormous amount of paper work for French visa
• Price storage units (too high!)
• Transfer cat to KJ
• Transfer camping gear to Pele
• Convey far too much information to future renter
• Download and edit lease for renter
• Advertise the van as for sale
• Give away/sell various household items via internet
• Send dozens of emails arranging to see apartments in Paris
• Rent Paris apartment!
• Resolve many pending condo banking issues
• Ask for leave of absence
• Write memo justifying leave request
• Cancel DSL service

A few things are pending:

• Cancel work-gym membership
• Transfer bike to Pele
• Ask Dad for email address of European friend of family
• Organize/store remaining items at home
• Clean the house
• Reserve shuttle ride to airport on Monday
• Retrieve boxes from basement and pack up entertainment equipment

One of the pending items was to cancel my Verizon DSL service. I'd made the decision to cancel a while ago, but it seemed like today was the day to do it. The exchange was frustrating. First, the fellow on the phone strongly encouraged me to suspend the account (for only $9.99/month!). I don't use my Verizon email address, so there is no reason to pay to keep the account. Then he said they couldn't guarantee the deal I currently have (which isn't great) and that I'd have to pay all kinds of fees to restart the account. The fee? A $30 connection fee. Let's see: 9.99 x 6 = 59.94. Still pays for me to cancel. So I asked him to disconnect me as of 5/27 (the day after I leave). Annoying but done.

But no. I get an email a few minutes later about my "cancellation order effective 5-21-08." Uh oh--are they canceling me today? That would be...not a disaster...but a real pain in the ass. I call. They're canceling me on FRIDAY (5/23) not MONDAY (5/27), as I requested. And they can't do a damn thing about it. The order is in the system. The end. THE END.

I hate you Verizon. True, I'm too cheap to go with another service if you still have the lowest price, but I'm writing a letter to HQ telling them how much you suck and that they need to get some competent employees. Sigh.

Grateful for: the coffee shop around the corner with free wifi.

Van o' mine

A few weeks ago, I decided I'd try to sell the van (a 1989 VW camper, formerly my mom's, which I took possession of in October--when I drove it from Seattle to DC).

I put an ad up on "thesamba.com" and asked for $10,000. Yes, it was priced high, but that's what Mom said it was worth. It looked comparable to the other campers for sale.

And I heard...nothing. I cross-posted on Craigslist, which got me two bites. Eventually, I got two more bites. One guy wanted me to drive the van to him to inspect. Um, no thanks. Another person offered me $2,500!!! Damn, that's really low-balling. I mean, on thesamba.com, $2,500 is where the parts vehicles start.

It's fine, because I don't need to sell the van. Sure, I could use the money, but I don't need the money. It's handy to have a vehicle and it will be handy to have it when I come back.

Still, I wondered why I wasn't getting more interest. Today, it finally hit me: it's the economic downturn, stupid!

I feel like I'm living in some bubble where the economy is good but all around me things are slowly collapsing. I'm lucky and privileged. And if I'm really lucky, I'll have a fully functioning, non-vandalized van to come home to. Fingers crossed.

Grateful for: my inherent/parent-bestowed frugality.

Socks!

Last night, I finished the second sock in my first pair of adult socks. Hooray! A colleague asked how long it took to knit these socks and I honestly don't know--many, many hours, I'm sure. I finished the first sock a few weeks ago--long before the trip to Paris--and then I got sidetracked by other projects. When I got back from Paris, I got to work on the second sock because, really, what good is one sock with no mate?

Today, I couldn't resist wearing the pair, even though I really should have washed the new sock. They are a little too warm for the weather, I can feel them a little, but they are not uncomfortable. I'm impressed with myself, even those these socks contain no embellishments or a pretty pattern. Being able to knit your own socks is just...cool. I really wonder how well they'll hold up since I've read on many a knitting blog about holes in hand knit socks...but if that happens, it's no great loss because this yarn was quite inexpensive. I would be sad, though, if my first pair of socks didn't last very long.

Besides the socks, I don't have much to report. I managed to do a tiny bit of work today and wrap up a few things around the office. I have to pack my office and I haven't lifted a finger in that direction yet. (We will either be moved or cubed while I'm gone.) My house is a bit chaotic because I spent the morning pulling things out of closets, reorganizing and deciding what to dump and what to donate. I was an hour late to work. I did make plans with Pele for tonight and get a Tabitha (the cat) update from KJ. Tabby is doing just fine. (See Tabitha settling in here.)

I do wonder if I should try to organize some kind of get-together before I go. Unfortunately, I can't make the DC blogger meet-up next week, and the idea of sending email, picking a place for a happy hour or otherwise expending energy on organizing an event to be beyond my capacity. I'm not in the mood! So, if you know me and you want to see me before I go, email or call and we'll figure something out. Otherwise, I'll see you in December--or when you come to visit me in Paris.

Grateful for: time to figure it all out.

© Grateful Dating

The stuff

At what point does thinking about packing become so overwhelming that it's better to just start packing?

While I may not keep the cleanest house in the world, it's exceptionally tidy. But I do have my junk drawers. Even those are neat enough that you can see everything in them. But much of what I have in my drawers and closets is not worth saving...yet it's not clear if I should throw it all away.

A couple of examples. I have two ancient historical lamps. Not heirlooms, exactly, but cool mod-style things purchases by my parents either before or soon after my birth. One of these lamps I don't care for very much...wait, nevermind, that was easy. The less loved lamp goes! Neither lamp works well, but the one I really like takes up a lot less space, so I'll keep it and repair it later. The other one can go to the alley.

Another example: my cassette tapes. They are so unloved that they don't even live near the stereo (which has a tape deck), but reside in the depths of the back closet. Yet I can't imagine getting rid of them. They take one drawer in a plastic shelving unit...but seem so inessential. Who knows if they even play anymore? Still, I don't think they're going.

My move is odd. I'm not moving furniture or books. I am taking a lot of my clothing with me to Paris. But what I don't take, which will probably be something like 60-70% of my wardrobe, will stay in my house. The question is, when do I start shifting the stuff around? Some of the shift has started. I put all of grandma's china in boxes above the kitchen cupboards, out of the way of my tenant. He'll get full use of all other kitchen items. How lucky am I that I don't have to pack my kitchen?

Here is all I need to do:

1. In the living room: clear out the coat closet, drawers in the coffee table and other knickknacks. Move the stereo, tv, turntable, vcr, dvd player, speakers, and LPs.


2. In the dining room: clear out all the personal items on the bookcase (books stay!), clear out the main two shelves in the linen closet (floor and top shelf are mine).


3. Bathroom: remove all personal items.


4. Bedroom: remove bed, all clothing (from dresser, shelves and closet). Dresser, bookcase (and books!), and night stand stay.


5. Kitchen: maybe go through junk drawer. Or not. Dishes stowed.


6. Back room: remove my "laundry folding" table (will go in the basement. Put all my stuff in the large closet.
   

So, what will have to go in that big back closet? All my clothing, shoes, accessories that aren't coming with me to France. The full "entertainment center" (speakers, receiver, turntable, dvd player, vcr, tv--some will be stored in the original boxes that are currently residing in that closet). My bed frame, which is pieces of lumber. It can probably go on the floor.

Pele is taking the camping gear, which isn't big and heavy but is awkwardly shaped and takes up a diproportionate amount of closet space. She's also taking the bicycle! Thank you so much! It's a huge help.

And, I'm getting rid of stuff. So far, I gave away a little paper shredder (I have newer, better one), an old turntable Spesh sluffed off on me when he moved, and a little Ikea table (I made $10!). Next to go will be a big ol' down comforter (this Saturday) and my mattress (next Thursday).

What else? I must be forgetting something. You know, this will be a ridiculously easy move. What am I worried about? I've already done the hard parts. Now I just have to tackle cleaning my house and shifting things around. I'd dearly love some company for the process, but I can manage it on my own. Whew. This may have been boring reading, but I feel a lot better now. Thanks for your patience!

Grateful for: a plan!

Cat free living

This weekend was the cat transfer. Pele and I drove to Wytheville, VA where we met KJ, who traveled there from Nashville, TN. Yes, Tabitha the cat is taking up residence in Music City with two other cats and a dog--and two humans.

When people ask me why the cat is going to Nashville, I say, "To start her music career. She's always wanted to be a country singer."

The usual response is a blank stare. Either it's not funny or people think I'm serious (and crazy). My routine about wanting the cat to make dinner for me once in a while gets more laughs. "Is it too much to ask? She could just put a frozen dinner in the microwave--easy peasy!"

Anyway, it's a little sad to not have her around. After all, what's the payoff for the layer of cat hair coating the apartment if there's no actual cat around? However, I am looking forward to cleaning this week and not feeling that it's an exercise in futility.

Amusingly, today, I received a message from least favorite colleague, Mandy, the one who systematically excluded me from countless office happy hours and other events. It should be noted that she is on a three-month rotation out of the office that started in May. I have high hopes that she will never return.

She wrote:

Hi [Jamy],

Greetings from [large, exciting US city]! How are your preparations for Paris coming along? How was your one-week reconnaissance trip? I’m so exited for you! Let me know once you’re over there if you want a visitor because I don’t need much arm twisting to go to Paris. if the awards tickets are available – I’d stay in a hotel of course, but it would be fun to do a long weekend in Paris. FYI, I looked on the [elite private college] housing classifieds and didn’t see any apts available. I also asked [another colleague] if he would talk to his friends in Paris and then talk to you if he had any leads on any places, but I don’t know if he did.

[Mandy]

Wow. Wow! What is she thinking? When did we become friends? I remember when she originally offered to check her college housing list and I was surprised. I know she likes to be helpful--but to offer to visit me in Paris, it's just bizarre! I was at such a loss that I still haven't responded. I shared the mesage with (work friend) Nancy who suggested this response, "How about, 'No matter how lonely I get, I still won't want to see you?' :-)"

That about sums it up.

One more thing. I called my mom for Mother's Day, 'natch. Even though she doesn't buy it and I don't buy it, I worry that she'll be hurt if I don't at least call (I also sent a card, but it will be late). We had a good conversation where we talked a lot about me (whoops). I mentioned that I'd read an article about taking a sabbatical that says you're supposed to get into a routine right away or else you risk drifting and not getting anything accomplished. (In a way, drifting would be fine because mostly what I want to do is NOT WORK, but since I do have a goal of writing, I will need some kind of schedule.) Mom said, "What are you trying to do?"

I said, "Write!"

She said, "I think you just need time to settle in and find your rhythm."

"Really?"

"Yes. That article is true for some people, but not for you. You're not like that."

I said, "I'm not?"

"Remember, who was that in college? That teacher? Who said that if you took time off after college you'd never go back to school?"

"Oh, right," I said, "that was Paul [an advisor the program I was in]. He was wrong."

"Exactly. You still went to graduate school. You just need to settle in and you'll find your routine. That's how you are."

(Background: when I was in college, I had this plan to teach for one year in a "disadvantaged" high school before going to graduate school. Unfortunately, I would have had to get a teaching certificate to do this, which would have cost me an extra year of college and since I was already on the five-year plan, it never came to fruition. No Teach for America in those days! Instead, what I took crappy job for a while, quit that job and worked two or three crappy part-time jobs for a while, quite those jobs to go to Europe for three months, working one crappy job for a while before applying successfully to be a VISTA volunteer. I took about two and a half years between finishing my course work and starting grad school--which brought me to the ripe old age of 22.)

Mom's right and that is how I want to play it. I develop routines but it's usually an organic process rather than a deliberately planned one. I've spent a lot of time making grids of the days of the week and the hours in the day and planning what to do in each hour or two interval. Never, once have I ever followed one of these schedules for longer than a day. Yet, I do have routines and patterns. I like to be flexible. I know what needs to go into the little boxes of time and by the end of the day, the week, or the month, I get everything done. But I can't plan exactly when each task will get accomplished. Sometimes I plot out a day to make sure I'll get where I need to go on time. I will plan out vacations, roughly, to make sure I see everyone I want to see and get everywhere I want to go, but those are the exceptions. I operate more on a list model--I write a list and cross things off as I get them done. The timing isn't an issue.

I am sure I will find my rhythm. I'm planning to give myself the first month to suss things out and then I'll settle in to however I want to approach the rest of my time. I will be starting a language class (don't tell the French embassy) my second week there, which will provide structure around which to hang the my time. After that, I'll be on my own, but I think I'll manage. I hope so! I hope Mom is right.

Grateful for: KJ for taking the cat!

Ok

Sometimes a date is just a date. I don't want to say I'm disappointed. If anything, I'm relieved: I will be leaving the US with no unresolved emotional dilemmas (beyond the ones I currently have).

The date itself was fine. The guy was fine. He was nervous and so was I. He still resides in neutral territory. I liked him well enough to consider friendship, but I didn't feel an immediate spark (which means nothing). He didn't bowl me over with his good looks, but he was fine looking. If I were going to be around, I don't know if we'd have another date. Since I'm leaving, we won't.

Altogether, it wasn't exciting or boring or worth worrying about. Oh well.

On the Paris front, I heard from my new landlord (a couple of unanswered emails had me worried) and banking issues are resolved (I love you Capital One! Well, really, really like because, while you charge no fees, the hold times on transfers from other banks are outrageously long. Guess you have to make your money somewhere.)

I seem to alternate between gleefulness (while brushing my teeth this morning, I did a little happy dance while saying "I'm going to Paris" in my head) and anxiety (when am I going to pack, what am I going to take?). I plan to start packing my house next week. While I get to leave most of my stuff, a few things have to go and several things have to be stored. But where? The future tenant did another walk through on Monday and we agreed on what is staying and what has to go. He also agreed that I could use the huge closet in the back room as storage space. That and the basement might be enough room if I can get rid of my mattress--he is bringing his own bed.

For quite a while, I've only been able to use part of the back closet because of a leak in the roof. We are currently (yay!!!) having the roof repaired. Hopefully, this means that the closet can be fully used again. It is half-full, but a lot of what is in there is JUNK. If I could clear out the junk I don't care about, I might well be able to fill it with all the junk from the rest of the house that I do care about. And then anything that I want to keep but don't care much about can go to the damp, musty basement. Hmm.

I'm not looking forward to next week. I will try and make good use of Freecycle. After that, it's the dumpster.

Anyone want a five-year-old queen sized mattress? Free to any home! What about a bunch of old New Yorker magazines? Old MacWorld magazines? A bulky sleeping bag? A REALLY old tent? Old clothing? Anyone? Hello?

Grateful for: perspective

More details!

A few of you asked in the comments "which arrondisment is the apartment?" The 13th! Not the most glamorous or famous arrondisment, but it's ideal for my purposes.

The lively street I'm one block away from is Butte aux Cailles (click for more details). It's going to take a while to learn how to pronounce that correctly. That description pretty much sold me before I even saw the place, but add in the very livable space and that was all it took.

Here's a a map of Paris with the neighborhood indicated by the "flags":

View Larger Map

And what I meant by "bed/sofa" was a particular kind of Ikea contraption (don't worry, it comes with a mattress)...that I used to own! So, I know it's comfortable.

The bad news is that the floor is hard and space is limited, but I will be able to accommodate up to two (very friendly) guests at a time, though one is preferred. I'll work out something to make the floor bearable. I definitely want visitors!

Last, I'm planning to start a new family/work friendly blog. I want to have a place to write where I'm comfortable having everyone read--I know work folks and mom and dad (etc.) are excited about my trip and want to follow along.

So, you know, I've come up with a new (lame) name for the blog but I'm open to suggestions. All of the readers here will be invited to the new blog but I'm going to ask you to respect some separation between the two spaces. No calling me "Jamy" or referring to "Grateful Dating" in the comments. I will link from here to there, but not from there to here--so if you can help me keep that straight, that would be great. Any other ideas about how to pull this off, naming suggestions, or other thoughts would be very much appreciated!

Grateful for: the plan coming together.

Paris details

I am so beat. I want to sleep all day! I've been good: getting to bed no earlier than 10 and forcing myself to stay in bed until 6am. Getting up at 6 is kind of nice as I get in a lot of puttering around the house. This morning, not only did I unpack and read a bunch of blogs, I also called my family in Israel! Did you know that I'm a great-aunt for the second time? My nephew and his wife just had another baby. I'm a little overwhelmed. I'm sure they are too--their first kid is just a little over a year old. I need to knit something for the baby, but that may have to wait until after the move because I don't have any baby-appropriate yarn at hand.

Anyway. France. Paris. You probably want to hear about that. Paris is great. I found it amazingly easy to get around. I had a good map (arrondisements from A to Z) and didn't make a single wrong turn on the apartment hunt. Impressive, no? Sometimes my level of competence amazes even me.

I did grow annoyed with my mother, though, and I managed to hurt her feelings pretty badly by expressing it a bit too directly. Thing is, she wasn't much help. She was too shy to really try out her French and I did almost as much talking as she did! (I was also impressed by my ability to understand others and express myself. I can read signs and order in restaurants but I can't have conversations.) Still, it was good to have her there to talk to and bounce around ideas. I dunno. I wish we could have more fun together. It wasn't a terrible time--we've certainly had worse--but I wish I could say we had an unadulterated great time. Oh well. It's not much of a surprise. We're trying and that's something.

As to Paris, it didn't hit me the moment I got off the plane. In fact, my initial impressions were negative as I thought I might never get out of the Chatlet-Les Halles metro station. After asking for help at the information desk--twice--I found my way out and starting walking towards where I hoped to catch a bus--though I wasn't sure which bus. I walked the wrong way--carrying a backpack and a rolling bag. A man saw me standing on the corner, looking confused, and he spoke to me. I shook my head. He said, "Speak English?" I said, "Yes." He said, "You are lost?" I said, "Yes. I'm looking for the rue de Rivoli." He thought for a second, looked around and said, "Rivoli? Ah, it's that way..." and he pointed. And I found it, a bus map, and, eventually, the right bus. What, so it only took me two hours (!) to get from the airport (Orly) to where I was staying...I just couldn't bear to catch a cab. I can't explain why.

But, I did make it, Mom was there and happy to see me. I settled in a little and we took a walk around the neighborhood. Very authentic Parisian. Later, I got right on the computer and started emailing and calling to firm up plans to see places. In the end, I only visited four apartments. It was the fourth one that I rented.

As I spent more time walking around, "talking" to people, Paris started to grow on me. Our first night, Mom and I ate in a good restaurant near our place. The owner spoke to us in slightly broken English. He asked who we were voting for! He was sure McCain would win, "America is not ready...the...how do you say...house...will be Democrat, but the president, no America is not ready for Democrat president."

The next day, on the bus (we loved the bus in Paris!), an older women spoke to us, first in French, then in broken English. She also wanted to talk politics. She was for Obama.

Overall, people were friendly. They would often (to my surprise, and contrary to past experience) break into English. They would work with us. Yes, sometimes my pronunciation was incorrect, but no one was snide. The one time we really weren't understood was by someone who wasn't a native speaker of French either! So, Paris--willing to work with Americans with lousy French. Good for me!

In my life, I've had very good luck finding places to live. I walk in, get a good feeling, and then I decide. I found my condo, where I've been very happy, on the first weekend I looked at places. I knew almost right away.

There was another place--a shared apartment--that I considered strongly. I really liked the roommate who I met. But the neighborhood was a little rough and the set- up was odd. I'd actually have to walk through someone's room, via a makeshift hallway (created by a rigged up curtain), to get to my room. Clearly, it was a better deal than to stay in the room that formed the passageway, but it was less than ideal. The price was right, they had a freezer (a rarity), a washing machine and a big bathroom, but in the end, I didn't pick it.

The place I did choose is a very small studio with a full separate bath, a small closet and a kitchen separated from the main room by an island/counter, where one can sit on stools. The furnishings are nice: a double bed/sofa, dresser, two chairs, a bookshelf, a table and a tv. Phone, internet and cable are included. I'll pay electric separately. Some books, a fan, a bike helmet (!), linens, and kitchen supplies are also provided. Perfect! There's enough floorspace for a guest and a big window with lots of light. It's on the ground floor, which is mostly a good thing, except for the limited view and a little less privacy. I'm very pleased. It's not cheap, just a little more than what I pay for rent in DC for a lot more space (but actually, if I include my utilities, it's about even), but a good deal for Paris.

The neighborhood is probably the best part. Mom thinks it's safer than where I live in DC. It's not in the center, but it's close enough. One could take the train to the center in 15 minutes or less. One could walk in 30 minutes. I didn't bike, though I will, and that is very fast too. The street I'm on is quiet but I'm one block away from a lively and popular area. I'm two blocks away from an open air food market that operates Friday-Sunday. I'm ten minutes away from Chinatown! I'm five minutes walk from a central hub metro station. And, it's a relatively tourist free area. Key! Sure, I know I'm "one of them" but I don't want to be. Also, it's cheaper to live in this neighborhood than one nearer the center. Why do I need to be near museums? That's not why I'm there. I'm sure I've made the right choice.

Now, I just have a few banking issues to settle, a lot of organizing and packing to do and I'm all set. Very exciting! I'm so ready to go. I didn't think I'd feel this ready, but I am.


Grateful for: Paris!

© Grateful Dating

Yes

7:20 pm. I should be eating dinner right now to get back on schedule. But it's also 1:21 am so I'm not so hungry.

Were you expecting me to write while I was gone? If so, I'm sorry. I should have mentioned that I planned it to be a blog-free time. Mostly for convenience. I didn't bring my computer--I had access to the computer where we stayed. Also, writing with Mom looking over my shoulder seemed like a bad idea.

Ok, short version: I'm moving to Paris on May 27! I bought my plane ticket today. I found a place to live. I put a deposit down. It was not romantic love but it was total confidence that I will like it there, that I will be happy and that going is what I want to do. I can handle it. I will learn French! I will read, write, knit, bike, walk and make full use of the public transportation system. I will drink coffee in the morning standing at the bar. I will shop at open markets, go see movies in English with French subtitles and maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll get confident enough to get lost.

More later.

Grateful for: my wonderful plan.

Resistance

Last week, when I went out to lunch with Sailor, I talked about the time I went for a long trip (three months) to Europe on my own. I went a few months after I officially graduated from college, though it had been almost a year since I'd taken any classes.

It was an interesting but difficult trip. Much of the time, I was on my own and was incredibly lonely. It was not the fun, freewheeling affair that I'd hoped for. At 21-years-old, I did not fully appreciate the freedom that solo travel afforded, though that was exactly why I'd gone on my own. A couple of years earlier, I'd gone on a trip through school, and hated the group aspect of it. I was determined to make my own adventure--really see and experience the places that I visited--and go at my own pace. In that, I largely succeeded, but I was not very happy in the process.

I am a better solo traveler these days, as my trip to Peru a few years ago proved. But that was a 20-day trip, not a six month long relocation. It shouldn't surprise me that I am terrified at the prospect of going to Paris.

When I talked to Sailor about that trip of long-ago, I lost track of the point I was trying to make. This is the point: the few weeks before my trip, when I was packing and finalizing arrangements (I gave up my apartment and stored things around town, with friends), I was consumed with misery. I dreaded the trip. I fell into a mad crush with a guy I barely knew. (He was the roommate of a guy I dated a few times.) Man. While I was on that trip, I made lots of phone calls from pay phones and phone offices to my mom. I called Audrey a few times. I also wrote a bunch of letters (ah, the old days!)...and most of them went to that guy. Um...whoops.

When I got back, I was embarrassed. It was clear that the guy was not interested in being my boyfriend (foolish man) and I'd exposed myself to him. We went to lunch one day and I awkwardly apologized and asked him to just forget what I'd written. He was quite kind and assured me I'd done nothing worrisome. Hmm...I wonder what happened to that guy?

Anyway. Still not the point. See, this is what I do when I don't want to talk about something. I digress. I distract with (entertaining?) vignettes. I don't get to the point.

The point: I'm scared. I don't want to go. It's too hard. What if I don't like it? What if I'm bored? What if I'm so lonely it keeps me from enjoying myself? What if I don't write? What if what I write is crap? What if I don't have enough money? What if...what if...what if...

I'm lucky. Things have been going great. I'm a planner and my planning has paid off. I can do this trip and still have money left over. I SHOULD go. But do I have to? Do I want to? I like my house so well, and it's so snug, and I'll miss the cat...and my friends (!)...and it's so easy to be here, to stay here....

Change, even luxurious, indulgent, only-available-to-the-privileged-few change is hard. Change is hard, but is it good?

Grateful for: change.

PS Sorry, didn't meant to be a tease about Sailor. The verdict: friendship. That's a good thing.

Visa story

This morning, I went to the French Embassy to submit my application for a long-stay visa.

I did some research and found that bus goes from Union Station to right outside the Embassy. I got up extra early and caught the bus. My appointment was at 8:55am. The bus dropped me off outside the embassy at 8:18.

I walked through the pedestrian gate and was waved over by a man encased in a round brown-glassed security "hut." As I approached I started to pull out the email I'd printed out in anticipation of the visit, "Please print this email as it will be requested by the security."

The man said, "Are you here for a visa?"

I said, "Yes."

He said, "They don't open until 8:45."

"Oh." I said, "I guess I'm early." I didn't move.

He said, "Yeah. And the facility isn't open. There's nowhere to wait."

I said, "Oh." I felt a little helpless and lost. I looked around. We were: nowhere.

He said, "There's a cafeteria across the street."

"Ok, thanks. I'll come back. Thanks."

I walked across the street to what turned out to be (part of) Georgetown U's Medical Campus. I never found the cafeteria, but that was ok. I'd picked up some coffee and a roll at Union Station. I wandered around and looked at the sculpture, which was plentiful. It was breezy and lovely, but too cool to sit outdoors. I found an indoor lounge and read for a few minutes. At 8:40am, I went across the street and back to the embassy.

This time, in exchange for my driver's license, I got a visitor's pass and directions to the visa office. I walked up the drive and found a seat in the office. A sign read, "If you have an appointment, please take a seat. You name will be called." Within ten minutes, my name was called.

I went to the window and was asked my purpose. I presented my passport. The lady said, "Are you going to study?"

"I'm going to take a class."

"You need a different visa then."

"What?"

"You need a student visa, good for 90 days. And you need another visa if you want to stay longer."

I was befuddled. "Well, I, I'm not taking a degree, it's just a language class."

"It is the same. You don't understand."

"I didn't read that on the website."

"You read the wrong website."

I thought, "You mean the French Embassy one?" I said, "I have all the documents for the long-stay visa..."

"No. There are different kinds of long-stay visas. There are rules. It's important!"

I said, "Well, can I just apply for the tourism visa? I won't study. I'll promise not to study."

She kept my passport and told me to cross out "study" from my forms. When I started the crossing out while still standing at the window, she sent me back to my seat.

I sat and scribbled over the places where I'd written study and crossed out the name of school where I planned to take a French language class. Oy.

I went back to the window and handed her the altered forms. She said, "Do you have the other photos?" I handed them over.

"Do you have the next document required?"

I handed her my bank records. She made a mark on the application form.

She said, "Do you have the next document?"

I gave her a piece of paper on which I'd typed that I promised not to work while in France. It was signed and dated. She said, "Add to this that you will not study." I did. She made another mark.

She said, "Do you have the next document?"

I gave her the proof of medical insurance. Check. Then the "non-criminal record" certification. Check. Last, a note saying I'm staying with a friend. (They want a deed to an apartment...but how would I get that?) She didn't like the letter either. "No id?"

I said, "No, but I have a copy of her utility bill."

The woman said, "We'll call you. Please sit down."

I sat. I was discouraged. I thought, "Fine. Forget France. I'll go for three months...and then I'll live in the UK. Or somewhere else." I struck up a conversation with a woman sitting near me.

I was called up again, this time by the man working there. He said, "Write your name on this envelope. We will send the approval there. It will take up to two months."

"Two months! That's not what it said on the website!"

"You read the wrong website! Do not argue with me!"

I said, "I have it right..."

He cut me off, "Write your name and address please!"

I wrote my name and address on the envelope. I was asked to sit again and wait. I looked at the copy of the webpage. It read, " The procedure takes about 1 to 2 weeks for US citizens and 2 months for others nationalities."

I chatted some more with my new friend.

I was called to the window again. The man handed me a few pages of blank white paper. "Please go sit at that table and write on this paper exactly what you plan to do in France."

I stared at him and took the paper and sat at the table. I glanced at my waiting room friend and shrugged my shoulders. I wrote an essay that went something like this:

While I am in Paris, I plan to partake of the cultural opportunities--cinema, museums, concerts--that the city has to offer. I plan to spend time writing for a personal project. I will travel in the country. I also plan to use Paris as my "home base" when I go visit my friends in other parts of Europe. The time is a rest from my job, which I will resume when I return to the US.

I brought the completed "essay" back to the man. He smiled at me and asked me to sit down again. I felt a little dazed. I said to my friend, "It's like writing a grad school application." It wasn't exactly that, though. It was like writing the essay for my application for in-state residency in North Carolina. How to be honest and yet leave an opening for what I really intend to do (basically what I said, but I'm still going to take a French language class! Please don't tell).

I waited and was called again. The man gave me a big smile and said I would get the visa TODAY. He told me he could offer two kinds of visas: 1) six months only and nothing else to do or 2) indefinite, but with the need to apply for a residency card within 90 days of arriving in France. I chose number two.

I sat again and waited. By 10:15 I left the office with a visa.

At some point they must have realized that this is what I was asking: please let me come to your country, spend all my money, then go home. Who would say no to that?

Boy oh boy. I sure hope I'm doing the right thing!

Grateful for: persistence.

Enough?

Is it boring yet to say how stressed and overwhelmed I am by all my planning?

Last night, I walked home and had to rush out to take Tabitha to the vet. She needed her regular shots. Woo-hoo, that was one unhappy kitty! And she has to go back in three weeks for a booster! That will be fun.

I'm busy setting up appointments to see apartments in Paris. I'm emailing every likely place that comes up on craigslist. Some even respond. It's not a ton of places. I'm nervous.

I have almost all my documents, save one, for my appointment with the French Consulate/Embassy on Friday. Do I go without that document? Do I reschedule the appointment if it doesn't come?

I'm having people over for Passover on Saturday. Almost no one can come! I'll have between 2 and 5 guests. Oy. I have to shop tonight. Clean on Wednesday and Thursday. Cook on Friday and Saturday.

I'm still going to play soccer on Saturday. And Sunday. Don't say it.

Oh, and Sailor? He changed our Wednesday night after-work to a Thursday lunch. Boo.

Grateful for: a plan.

My, my

Did I mention that I'll be out of town next week?

Did I mention that I'm going out of my mind?

It's so hard to fully, internally commit to Paris. I love my apartment (house, condo, whatever you call it) SO MUCH that I hate the idea of leaving that physical space. Yet, if I just quit and stick around (as opposed to leaving town), I will stagnate. But it makes me so sad to think of leaving my little homey space. (It merely makes me feel guilty to think of leaving my job. Bah, guilt, could you let up just this once? I'm starting to feel like the perpetrator of a stealth break up--you know the one where one day the husband wakes up and says, "I can't stay in this marriage. I don't love you. I don't think I ever loved you." And the wife is all WTF?!?! (I know someone to whom this actually happened--ouch). I keep imagining the shocked look on TR's face when I tell him what I'm thinking about. Or maybe he'll be relieved. That would be a blow to the ego!!)

Anyway, work has been busy and I'm not good at multitasking when it comes to writing. I've been writing for work. So, I write a little, read a little, edit a little, write a little. Somehow, the blog doesn't fit.

Could someone please tell me, though, how do you manage the sabbatical arrangements? How do I make this happen? Do I really want to make it happen. I know it would be hard at first. Or maybe it would be easy at first and hard later. So many things would change. I'd leave Tabitha with a friend, I think that's best for both of us...but the thought of being all alone in a little Paris garret (ah, the romance) with out even a kitty to keep me company...it's sad. And she's not very good company and I don't usually miss her much when I'm away from home. But I think I was lonelier without her and that might be even worse.

Still, gallivanting around Europe on all my fun side trips will be much easier without a cat dependent. So, anyone need a cat for 6 months to a year? (I have a place for her already, but it's not local. Locals should feel free to volunteer.)

Ah, right, so, next week: St. Louis. Anyone been there recently? Any must sees? I'll be inside all day, most of the day, training, but I'm sure I'll have a few free moments to look around. I've been there once and didn't go up in the Arch. This time, I'm going!

Ok, it's way too late to write, so I'll stop and post.

I loved all your six-word life stories, by the way. I demand more!

Grateful for: writing.

Obsessed

My day was spent about 50% on work and 50% on Paris research. Yet, I only have work to show for it and no Paris apartment. How's that obsession working out for me? Well, it sure makes the day go faster....

(Unanswered questions: should I apply for a long-stay visa? Should I try for a year sabbatical instead of six months? Should I try to take a language class at the Sorbonne instead of a commercial language school? Semi-answered questions: I know where to get travel medical insurance. Whoop-dee-doo!)

Got in touch with Spesh and told him that our semi-plan to meet on the West Coast for Passover was off (the timing conflicts with my Paris reconnoiter). He was thrilled at the prospect of me moving to Paris! It was great to get that reaction from him. Then he immediately made a connection for me with a woman he knows who lives in Paris who needs to sublet her place. Odds are it won't work out but it's a great idea.

Last and totally (mostly) unrelated, my blog-friend, Billy, at Living the Romantic Comedy had a good post the other day where he talks about this project where people write their life stories in six words. I couldn't resist trying it out in Billy's comments:

First try: Too much school, still not married.

Ugh!

Second try: Great boring job, moving to Paris!

That's more like it.

Please share your six-word life stories in the comments! I'll post some of your stories later this week.

Grateful for: distraction and Spesh.

Politeness

Remember back in December when I went up to New Jersey for a wedding and (sort of) caused my uncle to miss his son's (my cousin's) wedding ceremony?

Well, before going to the wedding, I bought the couple a rather expensive gift. My soon-to-be cousin-in-law sent me a nice thank you note almost immediately upon receipt. It's funny to get a thank you for wedding gift before the actual wedding, but it's perfectly proper and thoughtful.

After that, as you know, I went to the wedding. And missed the ceremony. I hung around for picture taking and went to the luncheon. After the luncheon, we went to the newlyweds' house and hung out there for a while. I enjoyed meeting the folks I didn't know and I had a good time.

Perhaps a week after I got back to DC, I got another thank you note from my now official cousin-in-law, thanking me for coming to the wedding and spending time with them.

I have to say, pretty classy, especially considering that they could have been rightly annoyed with me for screwing up the arrival of the father-of-the-groom. I've always liked my cousin's (now) wife and I do now more than ever.

In light of my little dust up with Mandy this week, it's good to keep the highest forms of courtesy in mind. In consultation with Mom and partially at her suggestion, on Thursday I left Mandy a thank you note for the flowers and candy. Honestly, I did not want to say "thank you" to her face. Something about the whole situation was terribly embarrassing and awkward. Mom actually provided the words for the card, which I used with only slight modification.

After she got the card, Mandy put her head in my office and said, "Thanks for the note! I wasn't sure if you'd like that kind of candy...if you like dark chocolate."

I said, "All chocolate is good."

Guess never speaking to her again is out, though I may limit myself to incomplete sentences. Heh. That would be amusing if I could pull it off. ("All chocolate good" or "Chocolate good. Mmmm.")

Last, step one of "Operation Paris" is complete: I purchased a plane ticket for a one-week visit in late April. It's a big step but since taking a sabbatical will involve something like a hundred steps, I don't feel too overwhelmed. If anything, I'm a little numb. But, if nothing else, I'm going to Paris in April! That's a decent vacation, indeed. Step two may be finding a place to stay for that week...which will depend on whether Mom is actually coming with me....

You know what step two will be? Telling the condo-mates they need to pick a new treasurer! That will be awesome even if I don't actually go anywhere.

Happy weekending, everyone. Mine, as usual, will involve a lot of soccer, some knitting and, as an extra special treat, dim sum on Saturday!

Grateful for: politeness and calm.