Thursday, July 27, 2006
Even In The Darkest Moments...
I was so fed up with packing stuff up today. I won't go into details. So I decided to get away from it and my family and donate my leftover books to the local library. I have quite a collection, so there were six big boxes to wrestle around. I figured that the heavy lifting would allow me to vent some frustrations.
So, I took one of the boxes, which weighs 40 or 50 pounds, I think, out of the back of the truck and lugged it to the front door. Of course, the library door was closed. As I was approaching, I saw two girls on the stairs. They didn't offer to open the door. Fitting.
Then, hallelujah! There was another girl coming out of the entrance. Surely she would hold the door open!
No. She just flipped open her cell phone and let the door swing shut. Click. Come to think of it, she never even checked to see if someone was behind her. Great. So much for venting my frustrations.
So I wrestled with the door, balancing the box of books on my knee. I heard the latch click, then pulled. Nothing happened. Rebalanced the box, did it harder. Finally I got it open, kicked it the rest of the way, and rushed in. A young man with a labret was walking out of the second entry door saw my struggle and went outside. "Nice help on the door," he said to the girls on the stairs. I thought he knew them.
On my way back out for the next five boxes, he was waiting in the anteroom. He offered to help with the boxes! So we both brought them in while the librarian opened the doors.
What a breath of fresh air! I had to put this entry in, even though we are frantically packing. It is so nice to have help just when you need it, and from unexpected places. I have to become the stereotypical Asian and take a camera everywhere with me, so I can photograph these emotionally Kodak moments and the people who inspire them.
So, I took one of the boxes, which weighs 40 or 50 pounds, I think, out of the back of the truck and lugged it to the front door. Of course, the library door was closed. As I was approaching, I saw two girls on the stairs. They didn't offer to open the door. Fitting.
Then, hallelujah! There was another girl coming out of the entrance. Surely she would hold the door open!
No. She just flipped open her cell phone and let the door swing shut. Click. Come to think of it, she never even checked to see if someone was behind her. Great. So much for venting my frustrations.
So I wrestled with the door, balancing the box of books on my knee. I heard the latch click, then pulled. Nothing happened. Rebalanced the box, did it harder. Finally I got it open, kicked it the rest of the way, and rushed in. A young man with a labret was walking out of the second entry door saw my struggle and went outside. "Nice help on the door," he said to the girls on the stairs. I thought he knew them.
On my way back out for the next five boxes, he was waiting in the anteroom. He offered to help with the boxes! So we both brought them in while the librarian opened the doors.
What a breath of fresh air! I had to put this entry in, even though we are frantically packing. It is so nice to have help just when you need it, and from unexpected places. I have to become the stereotypical Asian and take a camera everywhere with me, so I can photograph these emotionally Kodak moments and the people who inspire them.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
A Cute Story
So if you have been reading my posts, few as they are, you must know I have been selling everything (or trying to) on eBay. Let me tell an anecdote which reflects this ridiculous endeavor.
Two days ago, horseflies started showing up by our pool. Man! Their bites hurt! I didn't know flies could bite! They are as itchy and painful as spider bites. Maybe they aren't horseflies. Maybe they are actually denizens of hell.
Well, in any case, they were harrassing Zorah and me. Brian asked Zorah what we should do about them. And what did Zorah say? "Sell them on eBay!"
Here she is in one of our moving boxes. Why does she like fitting herself into boxes? The other day she tried to squeeze herself into one that was way too small. It toppled over, of course, with her in it. She was understandably upset, except for the fact that she hurt herself trying to get into a box...
Two days ago, horseflies started showing up by our pool. Man! Their bites hurt! I didn't know flies could bite! They are as itchy and painful as spider bites. Maybe they aren't horseflies. Maybe they are actually denizens of hell.
Well, in any case, they were harrassing Zorah and me. Brian asked Zorah what we should do about them. And what did Zorah say? "Sell them on eBay!"
Here she is in one of our moving boxes. Why does she like fitting herself into boxes? The other day she tried to squeeze herself into one that was way too small. It toppled over, of course, with her in it. She was understandably upset, except for the fact that she hurt herself trying to get into a box...
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Our Truck And Trailer
Here is a picture of our big truuck. I believe the color is PullMeOver red.
And here is our trailer. I should call it a toy hauler or a fifth wheel. For some reason, Brian gets offended when I called it a trailer. Apparently, a toy hauler is a mobile home you can hitch to your truuuuck. And a trailer, well, it's a mobile home you can hitch to your truuuuck. Hmmm...
It looks like it's about to blast off! And I suppose it is, in a way. I have about two weeks until we start out.
It looks like it's about to blast off! And I suppose it is, in a way. I have about two weeks until we start out.
The Phone Company Just Doesn't Get It
So this morning I called the phone company to cancel my service. I figured this would be a simple yet productive activity, and a nice break from eBaying. After a crescendo of responses at the automated voice sensitive operator (Agent! Cancel! ARRRRRR!! RAAAAH!! CUSTOMER SERVICE!!!) I was finally transferred to a person.
"Hi, I'd like to cancel my phone and DSL service as of August 1."
"Are you moving?"
"Actually, we are going to be living in an RV and traveling around the country."
"So, what will your address be?"
"Uh, we're not going to have one."
"Are you still going to be living in Connecticut?"
Man! I know this isn't a popular lifestyle among normal people, but come on!
"Hi, I'd like to cancel my phone and DSL service as of August 1."
"Are you moving?"
"Actually, we are going to be living in an RV and traveling around the country."
"So, what will your address be?"
"Uh, we're not going to have one."
"Are you still going to be living in Connecticut?"
Man! I know this isn't a popular lifestyle among normal people, but come on!
Friday, July 14, 2006
Why Am I Here?
For any people who might by chance decide to read this blog, I am writing this introduction to my journey. As for family members and friends, I am sure you have all heard all this already.
A few months ago, my husband Brian decided that we should sell everything and buy an RV. I didn't take him seriously. Three weeks ago or so we bought a huge Ford F250 Turbo Diesel Lariat, used, in a screaming red. Hmmm.
Now there is a FOR RENT sign in front of our house, and there is a Salem LE 32SRV Trailer parked in the backyard. The awning is out, the doors are open to air it out, and we are leaving in little more than two weeks with our 3-year-old daughter and 15-year old son.
Now this sounds positively utopian! But I am a reluctant passenger on this journey. I am almost ashamed to admit I am rather a materialistic person. I like my things. I like my comforts. I like my privacy. All this will change. Even now, I am posting everything on eBay, and considering a huge moving sale with the items that fail to sell online. The relative lack of space and privacy I expect fills me with explicable dread and a sense of foreboding.
My initials before I got married were RV. Coincidence? Or was it foreordained that I take this trip? Will this be a wonderful family homeschooling experience? Or will it be a downward spiral into insanity and strife?
If you continue to follow my journey, you will perhaps find out the answer. I don't know. But now it's back to eBay, where I am getting slaphappy with my item descriptions.
A few months ago, my husband Brian decided that we should sell everything and buy an RV. I didn't take him seriously. Three weeks ago or so we bought a huge Ford F250 Turbo Diesel Lariat, used, in a screaming red. Hmmm.
Now there is a FOR RENT sign in front of our house, and there is a Salem LE 32SRV Trailer parked in the backyard. The awning is out, the doors are open to air it out, and we are leaving in little more than two weeks with our 3-year-old daughter and 15-year old son.
Now this sounds positively utopian! But I am a reluctant passenger on this journey. I am almost ashamed to admit I am rather a materialistic person. I like my things. I like my comforts. I like my privacy. All this will change. Even now, I am posting everything on eBay, and considering a huge moving sale with the items that fail to sell online. The relative lack of space and privacy I expect fills me with explicable dread and a sense of foreboding.
My initials before I got married were RV. Coincidence? Or was it foreordained that I take this trip? Will this be a wonderful family homeschooling experience? Or will it be a downward spiral into insanity and strife?
If you continue to follow my journey, you will perhaps find out the answer. I don't know. But now it's back to eBay, where I am getting slaphappy with my item descriptions.
