I'm Really Bad...

...at playing pool. Last night, I went to a pool hall to celebrate a friend's birthday, and I realized as I missed ball after ball after ball, that I have no idea how to play this game anymore.

When I was a kid, my grandparents had a pool table in their home. Growing up, I would play with my hands since I could barely reach the table on my tippytoes. When my parents were houseparents, we had a pool table in the rec room. I still played with my hands, but then I could handle a stick, so I learned to play with that. I could make a shot putting my stick behind my back. But last night, reality came crashing down: if you don't practice sometimes, the skill you have mastered flits away. So if you have a skill, be it cooking, pole dancing, speaking another language, or flirting, use it or lose it!

Apparently, I’m a Slovenian.

Over the past couple of months, I’ve started hearing the same question from many of the Bosnians I meet for the first time. Jeste li Slovenac? They hear me say a few words, know I’m not from around here, but they’re not really sure where I’m from. The “where are you from” game has been one of my favorites since the first time I came to Europe, back in 1999. That summer, I worked at a grocery store in Switzerland. My German wasn’t very good at the time, and most people picked up on the fact that I was an American, or at least a native English speaker, very quickly. Nevertheless, when I worked as a checker, people would still sometimes try to guess where I was from. I thought I’d made real progress when someone guessed that I was German, but it was pretty clear that they only said that because I spoke German-German and not Swiss German.

When I was in Austria, my German improved, so people had a much more difficult time trying to figure out where I came from by my accent. I even picked up something of an Austrian accent. By the time I left, people just thought I was “not from here”.

I started learning Bosnian/Croatian/Serbian while I was in Austria. Consequently, I’ve got a little bit of a German accent when I speak B/C/S. When Melinda and I came to Bosnia in September, everyone thought we were German. Melinda’s blonde hair and my accented Bosnian, gave us away as Germans…even though we’re not. My Bosnian has improved, so now the default guess has moved south to Slovenia, a place I’ve only visited. The Slovene language is distinct from but similar to Bosnian/Croatian/Serbian, so I take it as a great compliment that folks here think I’m one of their neighbors from the north and not from another continent.

And now, something lighter.

A one-word-answer meme courtesy of Heather:

You're Feeling: overwhelmed
To Your Left: Cat
On Your Mind: Unpacking
Last Meal Included: Cheese
You Sometimes Find it Hard To: Stop
The Weather: Clear
Something You Have a Collection of: Teasets
A Smell that Cheers You Up: Cinnamon
A Smell that Can Ruin Your Mood: Poop
How Long Since You Last Shaved: AM
The Current State of Your Hair: Messy
The Largest Item On Your Desk/Workspace Right Now (besides computer): Chair
Your Skill with Chopsticks: Decent
Which Section You Head to First In the Bookstore: Discount
...and After That?: upstairs
Something You're Craving: Space
Your General Thoughts On the Presidential Race: blah
How Many Times You've Been Hospitalized this Year: Zero
A Favorite Place to Go for Quiet Time: Hammock
You've Always Secretly Thought You'd Be a Good: Actress
Something that Freaks You Out a Little: Roaches
Something You've Eaten Too Much of Lately: Chips
You Have Never: parasailed
You Never Want To: weaken

Can Stress Be a Good Thing?

If it helps you into your skinny jeans, I say yes.

Soggy.

It rained last night. So much that I couldn't put out my three recycling bins because if the paper is wet, they won't pick up. So I set my alarm for 6 am, and at 5:19, I woke up. I figured that since I was awake, I'd go ahead and put out the trash and the recycling. Good thing too - the trucks came at 5:54. I hate to think what I would've done had I had to deal with stinky trash and a mouse carcass for another week. It's raining again, and hard. And while FEMA tells me I don't live in a flood zone, my landlord told me he was required to get flood insurance when he bought the house. The creek isn't all that far from my house, and while I don't think the creek will get me, there is certainly no drainage. The ground is soggy; I have to walk in my yard to get my mail because a lake fills up in the street in front of my box. I'm debating getting flood insurance myself just for peace of mind.

Today I stayed inside the house all day, talking to Wiley via internet and unpacking bins. We went through 6 bins of books of Wiley's, and I now have four bins of books to donate and three bins of books to sell (I also went through my books again). On top of that, I made great progress in the office - I got through all of the bins on the floor and only have eight more bins to go through in the entire house before I'm finished. Of course, I'm running out of room...there are about 7 bins that can't be unpacked now, so I can't wait to see what's in the rest of the bins (two have even more books, and my three bookcases are already full!)

I start training to be a youth counselor/case worker on Monday. I have training for two weeks, and then they let me loose in a strange county I've never been in. While I was at Lowe's for the millionth time earlier this week, a guy told me he was from Greene county. I asked him if it was an easy place to navigate, and his response was, "If you stay on the main roads, you'll be fine, but if you have to go on the back roads, you're going to get lost." So if anyone's thinking of getting me a late birthday gift, I'll take a little GPS gadget. I need to find a map of this county...everyone says Greene county; they never say what town they live in. In Monroe, or Brown perhaps, we have a Gnaw Bone. Maybe they have something like that, like Cattail Junction or Wet Willy. But I'll find out soon enough.

I'm really nervous about this, and part of me wishes I'd stayed in the legal world. At least I knew what I was doing there, so I could have something comfortable somewhere in my life. There's nothing but change swirling around me - new city, new job, new friends, new home - and sometimes I feel like the boxelder bug in the toilet as it flushes: trying like hell to stay afloat, even though the vortex is pulling me down. It's not that I don't think I can do the job, but you never really know how something is going to treat you until you're in the thick of it. It's really a leap of faith; I think counseling is the way to go for me, and while I may have missed the mark by a hair, this could be really good experience for me and help me figure out if counseling is my next career. My career counselor three years ago told me to get out of the office; it wasn't for me. And I was ecstatic when I made the jump and moved overseas. But now that I'm back, reality has hit kinda hard. I can see why people choose to stay in one career for years - it's comfortable. And I have been so uncomfortable lately; anxious over the smallest thing (like mice, and having my power flicker and wondering if I blew a fuse how do I fix it, and worrying about flooding), almost to the point of brooding and getting no sleep (it's almost 1 am and I'm WIDE awake now). I'm guess I'm just ready to be settled. Not being settled is exhausting.

Settling In

Today, the gods smiled upon me, for today, I was blessed with internet capability at home. As soon as I opened my eyes this morning, I got my modem/router from AT&T and bounded into the living room, plugged in my gear, and got two green lights and a red blinking light. I checked the directions; hmmm....red blinking light isn't something I should see. So I called AT&T and asked what was up. They told me I wasn't supposed to have service until tomorrow, but I had the packing slip right in front of me, and they agreed I was right and they were wrong. Finally, a guy who looked like he rode Harleys for a living showed up at my door and said he was there to connect my service. I practically mowed him down because I was so excited that my internet was almost ready. Half an hour later, it's smooth sailing for me. I don't want to shut it down for fear that it may not work again!

Tonight has been productive, but I suppose I should backtrack a bit. It took us 10 hours to move the bulk of my belongings to Indiana. I retrieved two of my cats, who were not one bit happy to see one another, so I had to separate them in the car. At hour 8, Dixie's constant meows hit a fevered pitch, and then I smelled the shyt. I pulled over about 10 minutes later, when I saw the first exit, and surveyed the damage. The poor thing had a massive poop that exploded everywhere, even on her. I'm sure it was quite a sight, me trying to clean up her cloth carrier while holding onto her at the same time so she didn't track poop everywhere in the car. I tried to put her in the carrier with Rewind, but he had an absolute fit, so she ended up staying in the carrier and he ended up sleeping on my lap the last two hours of the trip. So the first thing I did when I got to the house was give her a bath, which made both of us wet and neither of us happy. She objected very loudly to the point where I was sure the neighbor was going to call the cops on me for animal cruelty. After her bath, she sulked in the bedroom for awhile, but got even with me all night long, walking on me, over my head, and keeping me from sleeping straight through the night.

Wiley's friends came over and helped unload the large dresser and mirror from the trailer, and then we loaded up Wiley's things. Boy, what a lot of stuff. You never think you have a lot until you move it all. His friends joked and asked me where he was going to live when he returned, then they suggested he move into the other half of the duplex. Yes, it's small, maybe not even 900 square feet. I don't have a basement; I don't have an attic. After this ordeal, I realized I'm a very bad judger of space. But in less than four hours, everything was out of the trailer and into the house. The washer/dryer combo is a real pain to move, but Wiley's friends made it look pretty easy, except for the one whose head was actually in the dryer as she helped take the weight of the beast Here's a hint: don't get a combo unit.

Unfortunately, with everything out of the trailer and into the house, I had no living room, just a sea of blue and bronze Rubbermaid storage totes. We were able to get most of them into the office, and I've unloaded about 10 or so so far. I've also loaded up three to go to Goodwill. That's the joy of merging stuff.

Wiley's parents are amazing when it comes to gadgets and fixing things up. My bathroom is the size of a small closet. The toilet is so close to the sink that putting one of those over-the-toilet organizers isn't an option. But Wiley's mom told me about the shelves she and hubby made for her scrapbooking stuff. We went to Lowe's and looked around and didn't find them. But of course, when you're moving, you need things many different times, so on the fourth trip to Lowe's, we found what she was talking about, and they put them up in the bathroom. I was so happy that when my landlord came over today to give me a new screen door, I drug him into the house to see. Apparently he isn't as impressed with such things as I am.

One very unpleasant surprise I woke up to on Sunday were these little brown things that looked like mini chocolate chips on my counter. Upon further inspection, I realized it was mouse poop. Then I went all through the rooms and found more and more mouse poop. Wiley's mom tried to tell me that this happens and I can deal with it, but I was practically non-responsive. How could I have missed mice when I inspected the place? Mice! I haven't had to deal with mice in my own home since I was a kid and they were living in my closet (grandma had mice a few years back and that was also unpleasant, but I could leave). I remember my parents getting the glue traps, and one got stuck and woke me up with his squeaking. I felt sorry for him, but no way in hell was I touching that thing. I complained to my new friends, who tipped me off that Lowe's sells a mouse trap that electrocutes the mouse. Just one little zap and they're dead! Of course, I have to dispose of the body, but at least it's intact and looks like it's sleeping. And for everyone who thinks about it, yes, my cats should do the job, but no, they don't. And I'm ok with that. So this morning, I opened the closet where we thought the mice were probably coming in, and sure enough, there was a little tail sticking out the back, and the light was orange. So I put on my gloves, went outside and dumped the body in the trash. At first, it got stuck, which freaked me out, but I shook a little harder and it rolled right in. I don't look forward to this task, but I want these suckers gone. I told the landlord today about it, and he said he'd put poison in the crawlspace so hopefully that will take care of them. Not to be outdone, I got some steel wool, and I've been putting it in all the nooks and crannies I think a mouse would use...mostly in the floor, as the laminate was put on but no cording to go on top and cover up the little holes. It's a bit unsightly in some places, but it's too late to move now. And I put all the spices in plastic containers that would be harder to chew through, as Wiley's parents said they could climb into my cabinets. Steel wool is kinda painful to handle without gloves.

I also put up some pictures, which if you've seen the pictures Wiley has, you would appreciate this little feat. He's got two pictures that are probably four feet wide and 18 or so inches tall...pretty heavy things, and he said he thought they'd look nice on the wall. I thought they would be perfect in the dining area, so tonight, I measured, and put up picture hangers, and remeasured, and screwed up a few times so I have extra holes that can't be seen because they're behind said pictures, and after a half-hour or so, I now have two very nice pictures on the wall, and they're straight, and even at the same height. Yeah, I'm patting myself on the back. You can too.

Now it's off to bed for me to be up in time for the donations truck to stop by and take a few things off my hands.

So Old

I didn't know I was so old. After unloading a storage unit and loading a trailer, my lower back is super sore. I sit for any length of time, and I stiffen! When did this happen?

AMAZINGLY, we were able to get everything in my 8x10 storage unit into a 6x12 trailer. Wiley's parents must love playing Tetris because that's what it felt like - if we stuff something in this way, we maximize space. So we stuffed. And stuffed. I hope my cushions and my pillows recover. For the people who will be helping us unload on Sunday, I'm sure they're going to be confused because we unpacked bins that had clothes, shoes, sheets, and hangers and stuffed things in every nook and cranny - "Uh, Melinda, you're supposed to wait to unload things into the house, not the trailer". The mirror that belongs with the dresser has little shelves, so shoes got there. Even the chairs to the kitchen table got packed.

I guess this was more an informative post than anything. If you want wit, go somewhere else, 'cuz right now, I'm just too tired.