Starting mileage

28,666 miles on the car now.

Insert all imaginable curse words here

Leave it to me to buy the one laptop that isn't compatible with a cellular wireless card. When I bought the thing I didn't know what I was looking for, so I assumed that the people I was buying from would know. They didn't. Anyway, the short of it is that the only wireless card available (apparently) does not fit into the slot on my computer (it's a new model and they just recently changed it).

So the whole point of having wireless, so that I could connect anywhere anytime, is not coming to pass. I can still go to places that have free wireless and whatever, and once I take a few deep breaths, which is already happening, I'll figure something out. It's just incredibly irritating 1) that I didn't know enough to know what I didn't know and 2) that the people who are experts didn't know their products well enough to know what they'd sustain.

Oh, and I leave in about an hour! So that's exciting, although I kind of want to pull my hair out, and not just because I still hate my haircut.

Countdown has started

I have to remember to note the mileage on my car before I leave tomorrow. At high noon.

Had my last BJJ class in Chicago and got a shiner. Can't remember what might have happened to cause it, but it always makes the people I'm with seem suspect. Especially if they are men.

The last class was bittersweet. I didn't make a big deal about the fact that I was leaving, but some people knew and were sad to see me go. I was sad too but am excited to finally get a move on! Just a few more things to take care of tomorrow and then it's open road. Well, highway, but you know what I mean.

Weird

I'm in a coffee shop and I'm pretty sure I see my gynecologist sitting across the room. The obvious joke is that I almost didn't recognize him with my clothes on. I don't think I'm gonna say hello.

Thisclose to homeless

The close on my condo is tomorrow, which means I get to take off tomorrow! I am sooooo ready to get on the road. My first stop will be to see my family, which is obviously nothing new, but it will mean I'm under way! Plus, I'll get to play with my nieces, the human one and the canine one.

It's funny; the roadtrip has been done and written about to death, but there's a good reason for that. There's something about knowing I'm only in a place temporarily that is really freeing and will let me clear my head, I'm sure. Plus, driving is just really really fun.

The other day I was concerned that I wasn't experiencing any enlightenment yet. Well, that's already changing. I had to take the El (subway) to a doctor's appointment this morning at rush hour. The train was packed, people were sleepy and obviously not happy to be going to work, and I before I reached my stop I realized that I never again want to work at a job I don't like. And I also realized I'm over the two biggest obstacles to that: the prestige factor and the money factor.

In other words, if the work I love turns out to be unskilled or something, that's cool. I mean, when I was in a muckety-muck job, I was the unhappiest I've ever been. And if I don't make a lot of money, that's okay too. Same thing: I was making lots of money at the muckety-muck job and it didn't make me happy. It's amazing to me now that it took me so long to cut the cord at that job--first I went part time for a year, and then I finally ended it completely. I mean, in retrospect it was the best decision I ever made. But it was so hard for me to do. Conditioning, I guess.

Anyway, tomorrow is the big day! Hooray. Today I'm hanging out, trying to figure out my wireless card, and training tonight at Carlson's for the last time for at least a couple months.

All right, already.

Squatting in my empty apartment, somewhat literally (the squatting, I mean). I got ALL the furniture out today, which means there's no place to sit except the hardwood floor. Or the toilet, I guess. That's another reason I want wall-to-wall carpeting in my next place; when I move out of it, I want a more comfortable place to squat.

I'm waiting for Andy to get home from a work trip; he meant to make extra keys for me but didn't get around to it so I can't get into his place until he gets back. So I'm here, ostensibly dusting and sweeping one last time, but actually sitting and typing. I thought about going to a coffee shop, but the weird weather has continued and I didn't feel like being out in it. Plus, he should be back soon. I'm just weary.

And fascinating. Thank goodness this trip is getting under way in less than 48 hours. Not even I am that interested in the last trek to my storage locker or the hour I spent destroying my kitchen table with a hammer or how I went to one of my favorite restaurants, Uncommon Ground, for the last time for the foreseeable future, and maybe ever. Big whoop. I mean, it is significant, but let's get to the good stuff: driving my car, training BJJ all over the country, and subsisting on a diet of Kwik-e-Mart "grocery" items.

Two more sleeps, as my friend Adamarie would say.

Lucky, though no more enlightened than before

Just realizing how fortunate I've been with all the packing and moving. Until today, the weather has been extremely cooperative: cool, no rain, no plagues of locusts. Today's a slightly different story; there's thunder and lightning, and a little while ago there was HAIL. Now it's pouring down rain, but I won't be ready to leave the house with the next load of stuff for a couple hours yet, so maybe it will finish up by then. And then the mover comes to help me with my big stuff, and I'll be done.

There's no BJJ class today, so I consider all the packing and moving to be my cross training. But then, I also consider finishing up the beers in my fridge to be cross training. That and the fact that peanut butter M&Ms and 2 hour naps are also a staple of my training regimen make me think I'd be a very popular coach.

Moving into Andy's place tonight for a couple days. It will give me some practice living out of my car--what to bring inside and what to leave in the trunk? I have suitcases and things, but am seriously considering making the trunk one giant suitcase. We'll see. Then the condo close is on Fri. I don't have to be there, which I'm glad about. The one bummer is that it's late in the day, so the wire transfer of the money won't happen till Monday, probably. So I'll be checking my bank account anxiously after the weekend.

Fri it's on to my sister and brother-in-law's place for the weekend. My parents will be there too, so I'm sure I'll be cranky and stressed out (unfortunately for my family, they get to see the worst of me), and then as soon as I leave, on Sun, I'll miss them terribly. Especially because my mother's surgery is coming up on the 11th.

Okay, for a BJJ vision quest, I'm sure not doing a lot of jiu jitsu, visioning OR questing right now. Not even any "ideating," which is a verb my friend Julie used when she and I were talking with a few of our friends at our other friend Chris' father's memorial service (he passed away not too long ago.) Needless to say, she got no end of shit for using such a jargony word.

I am doing a lot of duct taping and shoving of things in garbage bags. This will change in just a couple days. Even getting out of my place and into Andy's will help me feel like I'm finally on the road. (Speaking of which, thanks to my friends Melissa and Gary & Sue, I now have that book, On the Road, in paperback AND audio. Nice.)

Now it's back to packing. And maybe a morning beer. (Probably not; I'm a tremendous lightweight, and am full from breakfast. I just like the idea.)

Last night in mostly empty apartment

You know you're either moving in or moving out when your home echoes when you talk in it. That's where I am with my place; tomorrow I move out the last of my stuff, including the big things (couch, mattress/box spring, etc). I don't leave the city until Fri but will stay with my friend Andy until then; he's got a nice spare room and I have bottles of wine that I'll give him b/c I don't want to take them with me. Should be a good exchange.

So I'm in these slightly surreal surroundings, made all the more so by the fact that it was half price wine night at one of my favorite restaurants, and my friend Colette and I did our oenophilic duty (read: I'm tipsy). I'll make a couple trips to my storage space, pack up the clothes I'm taking with me, pack up the other stuff I'm taking with me (books, maps, music, cooler for food, paperwork), help the mover get my big stuff to the storage space, and find someplace to watch Ultimate Fight Night, probably with Natasha. Then I'll move in with Andy.

Until then, I guess I just experience my place one last time. It's been a good place to live, but I think we both (the apartment and I) agree it's for the best that we part ways. The lady who bought the place adores it, and I don't anymore. So she'll take good care of it, and I'll pocket a bunch of money, go around the country, and find a place I do adore. People keep asking me where I'll end up after the trip is over, and I have no bloody idea. That's part of the fun of the trip: not knowing too much in advance. It's also the part that makes me freak every now and then. Well, living in the moment is good for me.

At this moment, I am going to get some sleep. My lack of rest the past couple days is catching up with me, I think.

Back on track re: dates

Okay, now I'm not playing catch-up with my posts anymore. Today's Tues, and I leave on Fri. Between now and then I have to get some stuff notarized, move a couch, mattress/box spring and what STILL seems like a crapload of boxes, train when possible, say goodbye to various people, clean out of my place, and keep my car one step ahead of the parking regulations (had to move it this morning, then will have to move it again this afternoon).

The trip will be exciting once I get under way. It's just preparing for it that is surprisingly mundane. And now that I think about it, I certainly hope it's exciting, but only within reason. What I mean is, when I told Brian, one of our brown belts, about my trip, his response was, "You're gonna pack heat, right?" He's also a Chicago city cop, so that may have something to do with it, but maybe not, seeing as how my uncle and a couple other people had the same thought. I'm not going to get a gun, mostly b/c I don't trust myself with one; I didn't grow up around them so they make me nervous. I know plenty of people I trust around guns because they know how to use them, but I'm not one of them. Brian also suggested a taser. Probably not. I'll just trust in the overall decency of humankind.

Or keep the doors and windows locked and never look a stranger in the eye.

June 26, 2006

I forgot to mention that yesterday was my niece’s birthday. She turned 2. She had a visit to the doctor earlier in the week, and she is very healthy, fortunately. Her stats are: 25th percentile for weight, 75th for height, and 85th for head circumference. So she’s a tall, skinny potato head. And she’s beautiful. I started calling her Lolly for a bit (short for lollipop), but it didn’t stick, though my sister laughed.

She comes by the head size thing honestly, at least on her mother’s (my sister’s) side. My father’s head is ginormous and my mother’s head is hugemongous. Neither of them looks disproportionate, but it’s one of those things where you can tell when they go to try on hats or get shirts over their heads. My niece’s head must be housing a big old brain, because she’s super smart already (of course, I am biased. That goes without saying. But I’m pretty sure it’s empirically true).

Case in point: Last time I saw her she could count to ten (now, 3 weeks later, it’s 15. Genius, I tell you). So she’d do it, and then we’d all cheer. She quickly figured out a short cut, so instead of doing all the numbers, she’d go, “One, two, nine, ten!” and then look around expectantly for the cheering. That’s my girl.

Anyway, happy birthday, Peanut! I love you.

June 25, 2006

Turns out I don’t like Gay Pride Weekend very much. But not for the reasons you are probably thinking. This is the second year in a row I’ve had a crappy Weekend, so I’m not looking forward to next year. Admittedly, I haven’t been wearing a T-shirt that says, “Taste My Rainbow” or “Give Mama Some Ass Candy,” like two of the people who seemed to be having a crapload of fun at the parade today. And I am having a boring evening, which according to another T-shirt I saw, is NOT preferable to an awkward morning.

GPW sucked last year because I got dumped. The dumper and I had only been dating for about 3 months, and he was right to end things, but it’s still never fun to be given the underlying message that you are insufficient. Even by someone about whom you have come to pretty much the same conclusion. And he waited until after we had spent the entire day together to tell me; afterward I kept thinking about how else I could have spent that day—I think I had other offers to do fun stuff and was irritated that I decided to spend the day with someone who, it turns out, didn’t actually want to spend the day with me. And in retrospect, there were signs I should have seen: he didn’t bring a change of clothes like he usually did when we got together (he preferred staying at my place); and when we happened to pass by the scene of his first date with his ex-girlfriend, he spent about 10 minutes waxing rhapsodic about how great that day was, one of the best in his life, shortly thereafter they fell in love, she was the bees’ knees. And then the dead giveaway was when he dumped me.

It’s okay now; he and I are friendly again after some radio silence on my part—in fact, we got together for dinner last Wed to say goodbye since I’m leaving on my trip, and he was nice enough to treat. But that dumpage will always be entwined in my memory with hardbodies in assless chaps, rainbow wigs, C + C Music Factory, and mulleted butch lesbians “accidentally” rubbing against me, and then “accidentally” doing it again.

This year, the crappiness of GPW is self-imposed: I’m leaving on my trip in less than a week, and at various points during the weekend, I freaked out. I know I vowed to enjoy the ride in light of what’s going on with some of the people I love, but that’s easier said than done. See, right now, the ride is like when Alec Baldwin’s character in The Hunt for Red October has to get to the submarine by flying in a stripped down chopper that shakes and bumps up and down enough to give him serious motion sickness, and then when they can’t get him close enough and decide to turn around, he cuts his line and falls a loooooong way into the freezing cold water. Then Scott Glenn (who trains BJJ, by the way) is really really pissed at him because his men have to save him.

My mother keeps saying I will be in much better shape once I actually leave Chicago. She is right; it’s just that the next couple days are going to be the suck, as this girl I know says. Sitting around waiting for something to start has never been my strong suit. Neither has packing. And that’s all I really have to do for the next couple days, unless you count running errands that never seem to end. Plus, I already gave away my TV, so in the evenings I can’t escape into mindless programming like Adult Swim on the Cartoon Network. Instead, I throw/give more furniture away, pack up some more stuff, wig a little, and then write some for my website. Oh, and then I spend a lot of time in the middle of the night not sleeping.

There is training, thank God. This morning I cried on the way to class, became completely absorbed in the training session, which was taught by an amazing black belt whose nickname is Soneca (“sleepy” or “nap” in Portuguese), and then cried some more on the way back from class when I came out of the BJJ reverie. Well, that tells me that the guiding principle of this trip is a good one.

Anyway, the point is, as much as I want to like GPW, it’s got a lot of ‘splaining to do. Let’s hope 2007 is the year Mama finally gets some ass candy, or something. Third time’s the charm.

June 24, 2006 part 2

Didn’t train. I couldn’t get to sleep till about 3:30am, and when I woke up, I just wanted to get stuff out of the house. We had a big load of things to take over to the storage place in the car, and the wrench in the works is that the Gay Pride Parade is tomorrow, so there are tons of people in town. Particularly my part: I live in Boys Town, which is Ground Zero for Gay Pride, and that means that parking, which is scarce on any normal day, is virtually impossible today. We did find a spot, and then spent the rest of the day cleaning and throwing crap out. It’s amazing how much stuff one person can accumulate, even one person like me who has spent the last 18 months getting rid of things.

June 24, 2006 part 1

It’s about 2am; can’t sleep. Ugh. So I’m importing songs to iTunes and putting together the toys from 4 Kinder Surprise eggs I found in the back of my fridge. Not eating the chocolate; it isn’t the best part anyway, but also these are close to two years old. I got them in Ontario when I went on vacation with my family. I don’t think they are available in the States. Actually, the first time I ever had one was in Germany about 20 years ago, so I was happy to see them more recently. They are the same premise as Cracker Jacks: you get a little edible treat and a toy to go along with it. The difference is that these toys are pretty cool; they take some construction and are kind of elaborate. I’ve seen them for sale on eBay and the rarer ones are actually kind of valuable. Go figure.

Anyway, the first one is a little dinosaur that plays basketball.











Importing Pavement: Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain.

The second one is a happy, googly-eyed mutant snail thing.











Importing Nine Inch Nails: Pretty Hate Machine.

The third one is a little blue sports car. You know, the way these are constructed is pretty ingenious.











Importing Elton John: Greatest Hits (the volume with Too Low for Zero and Little Jeannie).

The fourth one is a cool-looking bird. This is sweet; usually when you buy multiple Kinder eggs you get a couple of the same toy. I got four different ones.











Importing Pearl Jam: Vs.

Close to 3am now. I wish I were sleeping. Maybe I’ll try again, though I’m not tired even a little bit.

June 23, 2006

It’s official: my haircut is really awful. If your parents think it’s bad, it’s bad. And they do. So it is. Fortunately I found a baseball cap in the back of my closet. I’m not usually a baseball cap person, but I have become one.

Today was more packing and taking stuff over to the Salvation Army using the new wheels. I had a bunch of furniture: nightstands, TV stands, etc, that I wasn’t sure I was gonna keep. Then I decided not to keep them, and my dad got to break them apart with a hammer because I couldn’t find the allen wrenches to take them apart neatly. I had several minor meltdowns of the “why the hell did I decide to do this?” variety, all brought on by dumb things I normally would take in stride. But it’s nothing a nice dinner and several glasses of wine couldn’t fix. My parents were patient and understanding, as always.

Tomorrow I’m going to train in the morning while my parents do more on the apartment—in a way you could say I kind of suck for leaving them to work while I play, but in another way, you could say it will be good for them to get a breather from me, and I’ll definitely come back in a good mood.

June 22, 2006

Evening: My car is here! I mean, my parents are here! And so is my car! I'm starting to fall in love with the car. What is it about a car that inspires such strong feelings?

And by the way, my parents are pretty kick-ass too. We had a great dinner with lots of wine and took it really easy today. There will be lots to do tomorrow.

Right now I'm at a Starbucks that stays open all night. To get here from my place, I had to pass a Caribou Coffee, a Seattle's Best, an Intelligentsia, and about 4 other Starbucks.

Morning: My parents arrive today with my car! I bought it in FL and they insisted on driving it up for me. They love me. (They also wanted to drive the car :)

They also want to help me move out. Within reason, of course. After 20 years of moving me and my sister hither and yon, I think they are ready to be retired from the heavy lifting. Goes well with the fact that they are retired professionally. I don't blame them, and there's not much for them to do anyway. So I have just enough time to train before they arrive. Then it will be cocktail hour. Then we'll relax this evening and tomorrow I'll start using the car to move stuff to my storage space and the Salvation Army. My dad will supervise and my mom will start cleaning out some cabinets. But we'll take it really easy. I've done a lot already and they are retired.

They have a nice life in FL; they live on a golf course and have lots of friends. Needless to say, the fact that they are happy makes me and my sister happy. My friend Noah described their retirement as just like freshman year of college, only with nicer furniture and more expensive alcohol. That's pretty accurate. When they call me to say hello, they always use the cell phone. This leaves the land line, aka the party line, free for calls from their friends. You never know when the next kegger is gonna be!I'm looking forward to seeing them. They've been so supportive of my recent decisions, even though it's scary for all of us.

June 21, 2006

Haircut still blows. If anything, it sucks worse. And I know this is true because just now some dude randomly stopped me on the street and offered me a free spa day at his new salon, complete with a free haircut. He of course assured me that I look fabulous already, but I saw myself in a store window and since it's been a windy day, I look like a mad scientist/Yahoo Serious. I'd take him up on it but 1) I doubt I'll make time to schedule an appointment before I go and 2) I really really really like complaining.

June 19, 2006

The spendfest continues. I bought a laptop last week, and today I got a digital camera. I'm also planning to visit a friend in Juneau, AK, and to go from there to Anchorage, where there's a BJJ school, and to get there, I'll need a round trip ticket from Seattle to Juneau, and one from Juneau to Anchorage. Each of those is probably about $500. So I'm acting like I'm made of money. You'd think it would be fun to just spend, spend spend. It takes some getting used to, though, honestly. I'm definitely up for the challenge; it's just funny that I have to work at enjoying spending. I guess it took me some time to get used to not working, too, and now I'm really friggin' good at that. I just need to have faith in myself!

June 18, 2006

The above is for Jennifer* and Mimi. It says, "My pug is smarter than your honor student." Jen, I'm sure this is true in Mimi's case.

June 16, 2006

Talked to Darin today, my friend from training who is a brown belt. When he lived in Chicago, we trained together with the Carlsons. He and his wife Linh took a trip last year that's similar to the one I'm taking: they drove around the country, mostly out west, and Darin trained BJJ everywhere he could. When they were done, they moved back to their native Kentucky and he started his own academy, called The Submit Pit. I love this name! He and Linh are the first stop on my trip, so I called him to touch base and make sure he was expecting me. Here is how the first part of the conversation went:

Me: Hey, Darin, it's Val.

Darin (said in best Kentucky twang): Valerie Worthington! You fuckin' blueblood!*

Me: Yeah, right.

Darin: Are you sure you should be talking to me? Maybe you should be talking to a Rockefeller or a fuckin' Rothschild instead.

For what should be obvious reasons, I can't wait to see Darin!

*A little background: My full name is Valerie Lynn Worthington. It's pretty English sounding, and throughout my life, people have given me crap for it (like my friend Ken, who always calls me "Valerie Worthington of the Pennington Worthingtons." Pennington is my home town and unfortunately also sounds kind of English), or have assumed that I'm a snob or descended from royalty. But then they get to know me and realize how hilarious that is.

June 15, 2006

Okay, it's starting to sink in that life is good. Was talking with my friend Viktorija today about sleep, and I said, "If I had my druthers," and then I remembered that I DO. Have them. My druthers. About when I sleep and when I wake up, among many other things. At least for now. So that's really awesome.

Vik and I were on our way to a UNext reunion. UNext is the first company I worked for when I moved to Chicago after grad school, 2000-20002. Had a shockingly good time, mostly because I 1) got to talk to people who fall into the category of "would definitely have cultivated a friendship with this person if time and circumstances had been a bit different," 2) managed to avoid, for the most part, people who fall into the category of "I knew I had good reasons for not staying in touch with this person, and just exchanging two sentences with this person is an excellent reminder of those reasons, 3) shamelessly recruited people to read my trip blog, and many of them are really excited for me and made the obligatory joke about whether I have room for them in my luggage, and 4) networked a little bit, wonder of wonders. I'm still not looking for full time work, and when I am, I doubt I'll want a job in my old field, but it can't hurt to look into consulting. Plus, when I told my dad I had renewed ties with some people who might be able to hire me after my vision quest, he was visibly comforted. No need to tell him I probably wouldn't take any job they offered me. (Now I just have to make sure he never reads this.)

I'm not sure why I was nervous. Those reunion things always make me take stock of where I am, I guess, and at the moment, I don't really know where I am. And UNext was quite the petri dish for overachievers. In its heyday it was a dot-com backed by a seemingly endless supply of venture capital. We had all the stereotypical dot-com stuff: stocked refrigerators, limo service, foozball tables, young(ish) people working crazy hours and drinking heavily and sleeping with each other. We also actually had something to sell, unlike some dot-coms: an online MBA.
But as with most dot-coms, there was a ton of hubris and not a lot of return on investment. So then people started to quit and get laid off, and the dream died, and stuff. Most people who left went into something similar, including me. But then I went off the deep end, and I guess I was wondering how I'd feel about being around these people again when I have made what feels like a 180 degree turn. Happily, I felt great! I'm lucky I got to work there, and made some friends I have kept 4 years later, but now I'm glad I'm doing the vision quest thing

June 11, 2006

My haircut blows. A couple days ago I went to a salon school on the recommendation of a friend who is far more particular about her haircuts than I am about mine. I figured if SHE liked this place, which she claims to, I would be fine. The deal is, you pay $14 to get your hair cut by a stylist in training, under the supervision of his/her "professor." Yes, it's obnoxious to put "professor" in quotes, but it's also obnoxious to call yourself a "professor of hair." The girl who cut my hair was very cute and sweet, with a Rachael Leigh Cook in She's All That thing going on, and after her professor cleaned up some unevenness and she styled it, the cut looked great and I really liked it.

That should have been my first clue that it sucked. When I get a good cut, for whatever reason I usually end up hating it for 3 or 4 days before I get used to it and start to love it. With this cut, I can live with the fact that it's trying to be a mullet. After all, you can take the girl out of New Jersey, but you can't take the New Jersey out of the girl. What I don't like is that it's sloppy and clumpy and looks messy no matter what I do with it. So I have it pulled back pretty much all the time. I'm sure the professor would think I'm a hair philistine, but I think I just got what I paid for.

June 10, 2006

Here's a handy tip for the day: Do NOT rent The Family Stone for your mother to watch if she has just been diagnosed with breast cancer. My parents went to Tampa today to meet with the surgeon who is going to perform a lumpectomy for my mother. The trip is about 2 hours each way, and they were there to get some heavy duty news, so needless to say, they were tired when they got back. I suggested that we just hunker down and watch a movie at home that evening, and my mom liked that idea, asking me to choose something funny and mindless.

Well, I don't know if you've seen any ads for The Family Stone, but it's touted as a lighthearted romp wherein a son brings home his uptight girlfriend for the holidays and hilarity ensues. So I got that for us to watch. Bad idea. Nowhere in the ads I saw, and I saw many, did it say that Diane Keaton's character is suffering from breast cancer. But she is. They show the scar from her first surgery, and everybody spends time crying at various points because they find out she's had a relapse. And then at the end SHE FREAKING DIES FROM BREAST CANCER.

So as the movie is going on, I am looking over at my mother periodically to gauge her reaction and apologize profusely. Eventually she falls asleep, but not before she figures out what's going on. So she misses the worst of it, but then the next morning, she says, "So how did that movie end, anyway?"

I say, "Do you really want to know?"

She says, "Yeah."

I say, "The uptight girl ends up with the laid back brother and her sister ends up with the first brother. And the mother dies of breast cancer."

My mother laughed her ass off. I think it was a genuine laugh, and she did say that my blunder was funnier than some comedy would likely have been.

Regardless, I am no longer allowed to choose the movie.

June 8, 2006

In Florida for the weekend. My parents live here and have graciously offered to let me use their home as my base of operationsrather than me having a PO box somewhere. I've spent a crapload of money so far. In addition to opening a FL bank account and getting a FL driver's license, I bought my car outright. Wrote a personal check for it. Couldn't believe the guy let me drive it off the lot before the check cleared, but as he pointed out, auto thef is a felony. I went online as soon as I could to double check that I had the funds. I did. So I'm still free on my own recognizance.

It's a nice car, a 2002 Toyota Solara with only 27,000 miles on it (see above). Tan. Or in J. Crew catalog speak, maybe amberine or cider or curry. So I could name it Champagne Dreams. Or I could name it based on the style; it's a zippy looking 2-door, so maybe Sporty McExistentialcrisis. I seriously do want to name the car especially because it and my kiester are going to become good friends this summer. Plus, it will be the closest thing I have to a home for the foreseeable future.

June 7, 2006

Been sorting through old books, trying to decide what else to store, what else to donate to the library, and what to take with me. I already have about 10 shopping bagsful for the library, 5 boxes full for storage, and about 15 books for the trip. The rest, maybe 100, are unknowns. I'm reading as many of them as I can; most of them are paperbacks, and if I read them again, I can pass them on. In the past couple weeks, I've read

The Black Dahlia

The Basketball Diaries

The Secret History

The Handmaid's Tale

Ender's Game

Little Green Men

Songmaster

Et Tu, Babe

Songmaster

Geek Love

June 6, 2006

I went to a storage facility today to get a sense of how big a space I'm gonna need for my stuff. Remarkably, it should all fit into a 5'x10' space, which is the area you'd get if you made a rectangle using one of my friend Leigh for the short sides and two of her for the long sides. When I stand next to Leigh, she doesn't seem to take up very much space (although she makes her presence known in other ways). And a space the size of not very many of her will accommodate all of my worldly possessions, for about $100 bucks a month. I wonder if Hiro Protagonist and Vitaly Chernobyl will be my neighbors.

I did have more stuff at one time, but about a year and a half ago, when I went part time at the job I just recently quit, I started purging--donating bags of books to the library, boxes of clothes, furniture, and random crap to the Salvation Army, etc, until I have relatively little left. I still have plenty, don't get me wrong, but I don't miss a single thing I ever gave away. Makes me realize that I really have been leading up to this trip, shedding my stuff, my job, my home, so I'm light enough to travel and have the space to take on some new things.

June 5, 2006

This has been a surreal week and a half. On May 26th I found out that my dear friend Chris' dad died of a heart attack in his early 60s. He hadn't been feeling well, so they took him to the ER, and after 8 hours of surgery, he died. Needless to say, Chris is pretty broken up about it, not to mention stressed. In addition to the usual funeral arrangements and worries about his mom (he's an only child), there's paperwork. Apparently Bob was a pretty big pack rat. But Chris is also his usual hilarious self, which is what makes things surreal. After I got a phone message from him in which he was having difficulty speaking because he was so upset, I spoke with him and we laughed for about 10 min about the kind of stuff he's likely to put in the memorial service "schwag bags." Maybe laminated copies of the receipts from Bob's last trip to Walgreen's. Or, as Chris mentioned, "How about a 'My friend went to the Robert Walker memorial service and all I got was this lousy t-shirt' t-shirt?" I'm going to try to make it to the memorial service. And not just for the schwag.

Then this past Fri my mom reported that she's been diagnosed with breast cancer. It's not a complete surprise; from the long view, her mom got a mastectomy at about her age (and lived about 30 more years), and from the short view, her most recent mammogram showed a slight abnormality that the doctor wasn't even convinced needed follow-up attention. But they did a biopsy, fortunately, and found malignancy, unfortunately. When she told me she was getting the biopsy, reason/logic would suggest that I leave open the possibility that this would be the result. But I didn't. So as I said, it wasn't a complete suprise, but it's still pretty sucky.

Fortunately, the doctors feel her prognosis is excellent. That, coupled with the fact that her mother lived well into her 90s, AND my faith in my mother, who is able to count her blessings even in the face of bad news like this, leave me optimistic, though still worried and angry.
What's interesting is that these two pieces of news have made my anxiety about my trip subside significantly, and I have even caught myself humming since then, something I only do when I'm not anxious or stressed. At first I wondered whether I was a heartless, selfish person if I could feel better about my life because bad things are happening in other peoples'. I quickly realized that I am not happy because my dear friend and my mother are having a hard time, and not just because of how their hard time affects me. I love them both so much, and I honestly would and will do anything I can to help them through it.

But on the other hand, I am unmistakably feeling happier about my life now that I've heard the news. I think I feel like it's my responsibility to be. For the same reason I hate to see the people I love in pain or feeling unhappy, the people I love wouldn't want me to feel that way. So it's actually more heartless and selfish for me to continue to complain about what I perceive to be the challenges in my life because 1) I'm not grieving the loss of a parent and 2) I don't have cancer. Those two things alone are enough to be grateful for, not to mention the countless other things I have going for me, including the means to take this trip.

So from here on out, I resolve to be overwhelmed by excitement and gratitude as I get ready for and start on this trip, rather than by anxiety and fear. I'll still feel anxious and afraid at times, of course, but it's my responsibility to be excited at this opportunity. Soon enough, something will come along that I really need to worry about. This trip isn't it.

June 2, 2006

Every day I seem to get a little more excited about my trip. Today I realized how grateful I am that my home sold so quickly. Without the money from the sale, and the freedom from the mortgage, I would not be able to go. The real estate market in Chicago is apparently flattening out, and prospective buyers can make desperate sellers thow all kinds of concessions into the bargain: home repair allowances, lower prices, transplantable organs. Fortunately, I wasn't desperate, both because my buyer came along when my place had only been on the market for about 2 weeks, and also because I was too clueless to know I SHOULD be feeling desperate.
Mostly the whole selling process has left me feeling ready for it to be OVER. Apparently the rule book requires haggling back and forth about things I don't remember haggling about when I bought the place, althouugh maybe I should have, because then I wouldn't be surprised that 1) my chimney does not have a flue cap, 2) the buyer wants me to pony up for one (they keep out animals and weather, though in the 3 years I lived here without a flue cap, no rain, only the teensiest dusting of snow, and zero families of raccoons ever fell into my fireplace) and 3) they apparently go for about $200. It's easy to get caught up in thinking about it as a competition ("You'll get $150 and like it!") when I just want to unload the place.

Viewing my home as an albatross is a big switch, by the way from how I felt jst 2 months ago when I first put it on the market. Back then, when my realtor was over helping me price the thing, I got so antsy that I didn't know whether to pace the floor or put my head between my legs and breathe deeply. So I did both. And other stuff too: tear up, make tea, eat 6 cookies, etc. Of course, I had also just had my last day of work that day, so there was kind of a lot going on.
Anyway, I'm grateful now to have sold, and I'm also grateful to be grateful!