Rain and Roses

So. Here's the deal.

For the last several years, I, like most other able-bodied Americans, have been covered under my employers' health insurance plan (various iterations of Premera Blue Cross Blue Shield). I've been lucky in that the last couple of jobs I've held have also given me the flexibility to go to the doctor's/dentist's/ophthalmologist's office when I needed to; as a result, I was able to get the disaster area that was my mouth patched up as well as getting new glasses.

Theoretically, what you're buying with insurance (as various advertisements love to tell us) is peace of mind. And to a certain extent, it's true; it's a lot less scary to think that you have some help with medical expenses, should you incur any - the cost of care in this country is well-known to be stratospheric. (Sadly, this could have been predicted by basic economics: one of the tenets of the free-market system is that you, the customer, have the choice whether or not to participate in any given economic transaction - if the price is too high, you won't buy. Fair enough, but obviously that's severely broken when it comes to health care, as you literally don't have that choice. If your arm is broken or you're having a heart attack, you can't exactly call around and compare prices, or put off getting care until the prices are better.) So, again theoretically, what I'm buying with my X number of dollars per month is that peace of mind, and that ability to go to the doctor without having to worry about whether I can afford it.

But here's the thing that I've noticed. Everybody knows that getting money out of an insurance company is like pulling teeth (sometimes literally). To their credit, Blue Cross Blue Shield's dental and vision plans were very straightforward and I didn't encounter any trouble getting them to cough up for those (which totalled in the thousands of dollars). But, thanks to the sinister alchemy of deductibles, limits, coinsurance, and coverage gaps, every single medical expense I incurred (which fortunately was only one emergency one, when I passed out suddenly at work) I ended up paying for the majority (if not the full) cost. Part of this was simply punishment for the fact that I'm a pretty healthy person, all told - I think the only year I even maxed out my deductible was the aforementioned emergency, and even then I ended up paying for more than $800 of a $1500 bill. The only recurring medical expense I had was birth control - yearly checkups and pills. But really (and here's the damning part of it all), most of the reason I barely ever went to the doctor (for checkups, or because I was sick with the swine flu and probably should have), was that I didn't want to fight the insurance company about it. Which, I'm sure, is exactly their goal by spuriously denying claims and using all those other underhanded tactics that they're well-known for - sure, they'll often cough up if you fight with them, but the more of your time, energy, and stress that they can cost you over it, the less likely you are to want to do so in the future (and, therefore, the more of your money they can keep).

Now, honestly, this all wasn't a huge deal while I was working full-time, because coverage was automatic (and really quite cheap) - an automatic payroll deduction of $10 or so (more when I was working for a small company). True, the City and Borough of Juneau was shelling out $1090 per month per employee for coverage, but since there was no chance of my seeing that money in my paycheck, I just didn't think about it much. But something happened shortly before I left Juneau that left me truly sick to my stomach at the thought of giving Blue Cross Blue Shield (or any of their ilk) any more money.

I've been on the Pill for about seven years now, and while I've not always been as religious about timing it properly as I should have, I've been lucky enough not to have any major problems (or pregnancy scares) with it. However, going to the pharmacy and shelling out $15 every month is kind of a pain, and since we were planning a cross-country move (and therefore my daily routine was going to be pretty upside-down for a while), I figured I should look into something more quasi-permanent. After talking it over with my health care provider (a lovely woman named April), she suggested Implanon, a nifty little matchstick-sized implant that they stick under the skin of your arm, that sits there and releases pretty much the same hormone that was in my pill for the next three years. No muss, no fuss, pretty much no worries until I have to get it removed (it ceases to provide protection after three years, and you want to get it removed as soon as possible after that because of the possibility of scar tissue developing that would make future removal difficult). So I decided to go ahead and go with that, since (according to her office) it's covered under insurance.

Surprise, surprise, a month later I get an "Explanation of Benefits" (a misnomer if I ever heard one) from the insurance company, explaining in their standardized spreadsheet form that this service was not covered at all and I was on the hook for $1500 worth of expenses. April's insurance specialist got them on the phone and argued for several hours, to no avail - apparently, under the supposedly-so-excellent City health plan, "there's no coverage for birth control."

May I just get a gigantic W. T. F. from the peanut gallery, please. (Thank you, peanut gallery.)

Because she's a good doctor who's not trying to bankrupt her clients, April dropped $500 off the bill, so I'm "only" on the hook for the other thousand, and she was more than willing to work out a payment plan for it. But Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ - I'd been working for the City for a year at that point, which meant that they'd shelled out $13,080 for my insurance coverage at that point (and I hadn't had a single other medical expense that year). And they refused to pay a bill for a fraction of that cost, because a very basic part of health care that nearly every woman uses (and that saves them money in the long run because they don't have to shell out for pregnancy expenses) "wasn't covered"?

Needless to say, when I discovered that Brian's health coverage (which I do qualify for, as his spouse) was through Blue Cross Blue Shield, I wasn't too thrilled. And when we found out that they wanted $140 a month to cover me (for medical alone, and in addition to whatever Brian's employer is shelling out), I practically saw red.

Well, this is America, after all, and supposedly the biggest power you have in this country is the ability to vote with your wallet. So, insurance companies (all of you), here's my vote. I'm the type of customer you love to insure; young, healthy, productive, no major medical issues, not genetically prone to any diseases that I know of, not prone to risky behaviors. But thanks to your horrendous level of "service" over the past five years of my life, I'm done with you, full stop.* I know it's a gamble, and that if I break my leg or something I might well end up bankrupt. But I'm so very sick and tired of being in constant dread of the next "Explanation of Benefits" that comes in the mail, and I refuse to spend another hour of my life fighting with you over what is and isn't covered under my plan. Since I'm lucky enough not to have any major recurring medical expenses, I'm just going to take my $140 a month and sock it away in a savings account, either until I get another job that offers benefits (and no "take the cash instead" plan) or until Obama manages to cajole/threaten/blackmail Congress into passing a universal health care plan that doesn't suck (which I can't say I'm holding out much hope for, but he worked a pretty major miracle with getting elected, so who knows?). Meantime, we'll see who comes out ahead; but frankly, I'm thinking I'll have enough money to buy a pretty nice car by the time this isn't an issue anymore.

*If anyone's had any experience with a non-evil health insurance company, I'm more than willing to keep an open mind. But frankly, I'm not very hopeful.

As yesterday was a holiday celebrating (depending on the nationality of the person you ask) either the courage and bravery of America's military servicemen or the soon-to-be-horrifically-failed treaty that ended World War I, Brian and I took the opportunity to spend yet another day exploring Tucson. I'm a bit ashamed to admit that we still haven't gotten around to doing a number of the activities we mean to (visiting the Desert Museum, having dinner at Janos, etc.), but I'm sure we'll get there - we seem to be visiting on an at-least-once-weekly basis. (It's still a little odd, thinking that there's an actual city only a medium-length drive away, when for so long the only way for us to visit large cities was to spend two and half hours on a plane.)

Meantime, we've found all sorts of nifty or interesting places, including the HEUUUGE cheese section at Costco (quite a change after the single tiny fridge-case of it in Juneau), a bakery called Beyond Bread that does the most amazing bread, sandwiches, and desserts you can imagine, and a mall that's got (maybe) three open stores in the whole thing. That last was rather eerie to walk through - at first we thought it had just closed early, but then we realized that the various shops weren't just closed, they were also empty. The mall itself was still well kept up and had security patrolling the corridors, but aside from a Target, a Ross, and exactly one independent store, the whole thing was deserted. Pretty creepy stuff. (Fortunately there was a bigger one down the way that was completely full, so we soon determined that the economic crash hadn't been *that* bad in Tucson.)

One of the reasons I'm liking Tucson quite a bit - it's apparently a literary enough town that it can support two used bookstores in a single shopping center. In the same complex as Beyond Bread, there's a gigantic used book/movie/game place called Bookman's, and a much smaller new/used bookstore called Mostly Books. We visited the latter yesterday and brought back quite a haul - the new translation of Don Quixote that Brian's been looking for (true story: when we went to the local Hasting's and asked if they had "the Edith Grossman translation of Don Quixote", the girl behind the counter gave us a blank look and went, "Is that a book?" Augh...); a Charles Dickens compendium that included A Christmas Carol and two books of his I'd been meaning to read, Great Expectations and A Tale of Two Cities; a nice illustrated hardcover version of Journey to the Center of the Earth that Brian couldn't pass up, and a copy of Rebecca (another classic I'd been meaning to read for some time, and was recently reminded of when NPR had a segment on haunted house stories for Halloween). $50 total, mostly for hardcovers too. I love used bookstores, even if they are hard on my bank account.

At the past urging of Brian's mother, we also hit up Trader Joe's across the way. I'm still continually amazed at the general cheapness of wine down here; I realize a lot of it is simply that it doesn't have to go so far and therefore shipping is much, much cheaper. Still, though, $5 wine (especially perfectly decent $5 wine) is completely unknown in Alaska, but seems fairly common here. I think there's more wine in our cupboard right now than there has been in years. Come summer I may need to get one of those portable wine-cellars to keep it all cool.

Then it was to the multiplex to catch a matinee of Zombieland (which was quite enjoyable), and to the Olive Garden for a tasty (if humongous) dinner, and then back home. All in all, a perfectly pleasant day - and now I have books to read!

Perhaps I should look around town and see if there are any used bookstores here that could use a knowledgeable employee. It wouldn't pay as well as secretarial work, but I think I'd enjoy it a lot more.

Neil Gaiman, who just turned 50, recently discovered some long-forgotten family pictures from 1985, exactly half a lifetime ago for him. In them, he's the same age as Brian and me, and (according to the entry) "a young journalist who had sold a very small handful of short stories and two non-fiction books, with dreams of writing fiction and comics [...] and look, my hair is practically normal."

This is exactly why I love photographs. In many ways, they're like wines - when you look at them immediately, even the best ones can seem flat, harsh, incomplete. But toss them in a shoebox or a closet for two, three, five, or twenty-five years, and suddenly they're beautiful reminders of a moment long since gone. Your mind fills in the area off-camera, and whole segments of memory you'd forgotten existed in your brain are suddenly available to explore and remember.

I found this set particularly touching for a different reason, though. Readers of this blog probably know by now that I generally consider Neil Gaiman's work to be some of the most amazing storytelling of any author currently alive. It's hard to remember sometimes that he started from zero, just like all of us, and was once a shy and nervous journalist with dreams of doing something more (and at my age, no less). Given that people have told me since I was young that I'm an unusual or extraordinary person, that with my looks and talents I could do anything, etc., etc., I sometimes feel a bit guilty that I haven't really done much of note, nor do I see an easy path to becoming extraordinary - I'm twenty-six, shouldn't I have done something by now, or at least have a plan for such? But if Gaiman found that path, it's perfectly possible I will too - I just need to be willing to look for the opportunity.

Background information: The other day, Brian bought a Droid and signed up for a ruinously expensive data plan that nonetheless provides Internet access pretty much anywhere, which is really pretty darn cool - I'm updating this as we drive to Tucson.

Me (furiously Googling addresses and scribbling down information to plan our trip): Okay, so we'll probably want to go to Costco first and get some sunscreen before going to the Desert Museum.

Brian: All right, but you don't need--

Me: And do you want to go to Janos today? Because I'll need to call and make a reservation.

Brian: Er, maybe, but--

Me: I should probably get down the hours they're open, too, and the movie times--

Brian: Dear? Go take a shower.

Me (taken aback): Don't you want to get the information for where we're going?

Brian: Yes, but I have a portable internet device.

Me: …Oh. Right.

One of the nicest feelings in the world (for me) is when you meet someone in person for the first time and there's that immediate chemistry of "Hey, here's someone who's going to be cool to hang out with." Which isn't to say that there haven't been plenty of folk without that whom I ended up becoming friends with once I got to know them better, but some people you just chat for a bit and go "Hey, you're cool." I don't even know what causes it, or what causes the opposite reaction to someone you don't know well. Appearance has something to do with it, as does bearing and self-confidence, but that's only part of the equation - I've met very charismatic people before who, after talking to them for a few minutes, made me go "Huh, not interested." But whatever the complex equation of speech patterns and charisma and pheromones and body language might be, it's always a very pleasant surprise to find someone who comes out as a positive result.

On that note, I'd like to thank Dan (aka gracewanderer) for hanging out tonight, and express my regret that he's taking off so soon.  It was a fun night of karaoke and fast food and pool and dancing, and I (at least) enjoyed myself immensely.  What with having him and Adam around (and even Brian for part of the evening), it felt comfortable and fun, like I'd been living here for a while and had friends.  Sadly, Adam's going to be on a business trip for three weeks (in Hawai'i, the jerk) and Dan's done with his training, so it looks like I'll be on my own for the next couple weeks.  Guess I'll have to actually make some local friends.  Ah well.

As for a report on the local nightlife, it's surprisingly not bad.  There's a little place called the International Karaoke Bar that's cozy and well-kept.  The drinks have very little booze in them, but I don't particularly mind that - I'm all for a drunk-enough-to-be-friendly-but-not-obnoxious crowd.  The bartender (a little Asian woman apparently known as "Mama") has a reputation both locally and on various websites for running a tight ship, and the bar reflects that - it's clean, well-maintained, and any troublemakers get shown the door promptly.  I'll have to show up another time or two to confirm my initial impressions, but on the whole I'd recommend it.  (Sadly, there was a sign behind the bar saying the place was for sale - one can hope that she'll only sell it to someone who runs it equally well, but there are no guarantees.  Sigh.)

We also checked out Rendezvous, which bills itself as an upscale nightclub.  To their credit, they mostly live up to their promises - the place is definitely nicer than anywhere in Juneau.  The quality of fixtures and general cleanliness were both quite good (with the pool tables and cues being worthy of special mention), the staff were friendly and alert to potential issues, and it was pleasantly crowded but not overly packed.  I didn't try any of their drinks, so I can't comment there, but the service was pretty good.  The DJ, sadly, had rather more ambition than skill - Journey's "Midnight Train" really didn't need to be mixed with Daft Punk's "One More Time".  But you can't fault his enthusiasm, and there was some decent music in amidst the "Bwuh?"-inducing segments.

Unfortunately, Rendezvous suffers quite a bit from the common nightclub problem of sensory overload.  I realize that loud music and flashing lights and all of that are kind of the point, but there's nothing wrong with [a] having the loud music be well-balanced instead of completely bass-heavy, and [b] providing a chill room or something so that people can hang out and chat (or get to know each other) without shouting.  The pool room, usually the closest thing to such in a nightclub, was at least moderately removed from the dance floor, but the music was still loud enough to be intrusive to conversation.  Even the bathroom (usually the area of last resort for the overstimulated dancer) was equipped with super-powered air hand dryers, which worked very well but were LOUD.

All of that said, I'll probably go back at least a couple more times, especially once I get around to making some friends locally.  Perhaps their DJ will even improve, who knows.  If nothing else, the Latin music and odd mixes break up the constant stream of hip-hop, which gets old after a while.  Now if they can just get him to work on his transitions...

After hearing Lady Gaga's "Just Dance" any number of times through overdriven nightclub speakers or on a tinny radio, I finally got around to acquiring a copy and listening to it through my super-nice headphones.  It's really something of a revelation.  I'd assumed that the mushiness in the midrange and vocals was an intentional stylistic thing to go in line with the funk beat, but no - it's actually quite crisp and cleanly mixed.  Serves me right for not being true to my audiophile roots in the first place.

'Course, now that I've heard it properly, I wonder if the overdriven-mushy-nightclub version will drive me nuts next time I go out dancing.  Of course, I can always hope that the local upscale nightclub has better-quality speakers and a DJ who understands proper mixing, but I'm not going to hold my breath...

As some of you might have gathered, Sunday was a bit of a downer for me.  I couldn't even tell you why - there wasn't anything particularly bad about it (quite the opposite).  Brian thought it had something to do with the fact that I'd been basically moving nonstop for the entire two weeks prior, which is certainly a possibility.  Whatever the cause, I was pretty noticeably depressed that day, to the point of nearly breaking down in tears in the middle of Lowe's for no discernible reason.

Fortunately, it was a pretty short-lived bout of depression, and by Monday I was feeling fine again, although I ended up sleeping through the afternoon and didn't get to do much exploring like I'd planned.  I would have just attributed it to general laziness, except that Brian has been getting progressively grouchier over the last week or so, with his mood reaching a nadir Tuesday morning - air beds are all well and good, but just don't work well for sleeping two people, especially for more than a few days.  "Something must be done," I cried, or would have done so had there been anyone to hear me but the cats.

Lo and behold, Craigslist decided to cooperate, throwing up an ad for a four-year-old memory-foam mattress for $250, in a town an hour away.  We'd ordered a new one from Costco.com for about $680, but it was taking its damn sweet time to ship.  So I called them up to cancel the order, called U-Haul to see if they had a truck available, and decided to go for a bit of a road trip.

Now, a bit of a confession.  For all that I give off the impression of being a very competent and take-charge kind of person (and I am!), I went through quite a phase of nervousness when I was a teenager, especially pertaining to things that were particularly "adult" (like renting a truck), and especially-especially pertaining to things I'd never done before (like renting a truck and driving it to a town an hour away).  And while I'm mostly over that, I do still occasionally have bouts of insecurity and nervousness, especially when I do things that are notably outside my comfort zone (like renting a truck and driving it to a town an hour away to buy a mattress from a couple people I've never met.)  But I pushed through the nervousness and went on ahead, and I'm glad I did - the sellers turned out to be super-nice people, missionaries who were being stationed in Indonesia and needed to lighten their load.  The mattress itself was pretty nice, too; showing its age a bit, but still plenty comfortable (and definitely better than the air bed we were sleeping on).  I thought it was worth $250, so I gave them as much, and was a bit amused when the husband said "Oh, er, here, $200 is enough..."  I guess they figured the buyer would try to bargain them down.  Awfully nice of them, anyway - it meant the total cost for the whole trip (even with the $100 truck rental and $20 of gas) was less than half of what the new mattress would have cost.

I think it was a good experience for me in a number of other ways, too.  I've never driven a large truck before, and I'd heard Brian complain often about how they were difficult to pilot, so the idea of taking one through Sierra Vista and to another town was a bit scary.  But I ended up rather enjoying myself.  Sure, the GMC Sierra I got from U-Haul wasn't the most comfortable ride (stiff suspensions + bumpy Arizona roads = Vibra-Truck!), but it was easier to handle than I was anticipating, and it had a pretty decent sound system with an Aux In jack.  So I rocked out to the contents of my iPod as I went along on one of the first longish drives I've done in a while.  The landscape was pretty, too, albeit in a very different way than Juneau is - mostly brown, but with some brush and brownish-red mountains that really look more like hills to my Alaskan-trained eye.  It felt odd not to be anywhere near the ocean (pretty much everywhere I've lived in the past wasn't more than a few miles from the coast), but it was neat to explore a bit nonetheless. 

It strikes me that the trip also helped me feel better because I did the entire thing (making arrangements, renting the truck, getting the mattress, bringing it back, hauling it into the house and setting it up) by myself.  It's not that I'm against the idea of accepting help, but sometimes I start to feel like I'm getting too used to having Brian or my friends to lean on.  While I certainly value the consistent help from those sources, I'm an independent enough person to feel vindicated when I do something moderately difficult all on my own.  (Plus it meant that I could surprise Brian when he got home.  It was really sweet, seeing how happy he was not to have to sleep on the airbed again.)

And, hooray!  Now we have a real bed, and let me tell you - I slept pretty darn well last night (as did Brian, if his mood this morning was anything to go by).  In fact, I think I'm going to go back to sleep right now and catch up on some of the hours I missed due to tossing and turning on that air mattress...

Because he thinks in a very straight line when he's just woken up from a nap, Brian is currently sitting in the kitchen, peeling potatoes in his underwear.

My husband is awesome.

Go.

Something else grand about living in the Real World - real high-speed internet.  Bank of America's web pages no longer takes five minutes to load!  Woo!

Also, it's occurring to me that my blog title might not be quite so appropriate anymore.  Suggestions?  I was thinking of going with "Desert Rose" with a subtitle taken from the song's lyrics, but that song was so overplayed for a while that it seems kind of cheesy.  But then, it's been a good decade since then, so maybe it's cool again.  I suppose I could just call it "Year One of Wandering Through the Wilderness"...

We made it to Sierra Vista in one piece.  The travel went smoothly enough, but it was hard to enjoy because I had a big knot in my chest from listnening to Dexter yowl, scratch, and generally go nuts the entire way.  Two 2.5-hour flights, a 1.5 hour layover, and a 1.5 hour car ride.  I'm surprised the poor guy wasn't hoarse.  (Leo, on the other hand, was remarkably chill - I guess either the Valium helped, or he was just too plain terrified to do his usual mental-patient-throwing-himself-against-the-walls-of-the-carrier routine.)  We got them here eventually, and they proceeded to spend the entire night making as much noise as felinely possible so that we knew exactly how unimpressed they were with air travel/car rides/Arizona/the new digs/the narrow windowsills/moving in general.  Needless to say, we didn't get a whole lot of sleep, although it was worse for Brian than me, as he had to start his new job the next day.

One day later, Dexter's pretty much calmed down and seems happy enough exploring the new place.  Leo, however, has found a hiding place where we can't find him, which worries us some.  We know he's got to be around, though - he hasn't gotten outside and I saw him dashing between rooms briefly earlier this evening - so if he needs to be an invisible cat for a while until he's more comfortable with the new place, I guess I can understand that.  There have certainly been a couple of times I'd have liked to curl up where no one else could find me.

ETA:  Found him - there's a hole in the inside part of the wall where the plumbing from one of the bathroom sinks goes in, just big enough for a cat to jump through.  We'll have to find some way to patch it.

Incidentally, I'd forgotten exactly how bloody expensive it is to (re)stock a household - we've spent more than a grand on just basic items like bedding and cookware and cleaning supplies and dishes, and we haven't even begun to look for furniture yet.  I have a feeling there's going to be a lot of Craigslisting in our near future.  (Still cheaper than the seven grand it would've been to ship everything, though.)  Many thanks go once more to the lovely guests at our housecooling party - their generosity made the process much less painful than it could have been.

We rented a car for a couple of weeks until the Audi makes it here.  The guy was going to give us a Chevy Aveo but offered us a discount on an upgrade to a new Mustang, which we decided to take - although more because Aveos are crappy cars than for any love of the Mustang (we test-drove a 2006 a few years ago and were extremely unimpressed with the build quality, noisy ride, sound system, and various other non-features).  It ended up being well worth the extra expense, however, because the 2010 Mustang is like the 2006 one built by Japanese engineers - still a lot of the same aggressive American styling cues, but much nicer materials, a far quieter engine, surprisingly good soundproofing, a much nicer stereo system, a cool retro-look interior design, and generally a much higher standard of build quality.  I'd heard rumours that Ford was trying to clean up its act with regards to its passenger cars, but I hadn't realized exactly how stark the difference was - I never thought I'd say this, but I'm really enjoying driving it.  It's just the basic hardtop V6 model, but I'd easily recommend anyone looking for a midsize car to give it a look - it's nice and roomy (the backseat is decent-sized for all it's a coupe), the engine's got plenty of power, and the styling's a lot more interesting than (say) the comparably priced Chrysler Sebring (to say nothing of the Sebring's myriad other faults).

Sierra Vista itself has yet to really convince me that it's a place we're going to want to stay for very long.  Admittedly, it's only been a day, but the various message boards I was reading weren't kidding - this place is like Strip Mall/Big Box World.  I guess when you don't have to build slanted roofs to deal with snow/rain, a box is the most efficient shape for a building, but yeesh - talk about blandness in architecture.  Even the place we're renting, which is quite nice on the inside, isn't much to look at, just...boxy.  The real question will be the people, I think - places to live are all well and good, but friends are what make them worth staying in, interesting architecture or no.  So we'll give it time...we're here for a year, and if we're unimpressed at the end of it, there's nothing stopping us from packing everything into a U-Haul and heading someplace else.

I really miss Juneau right now.

Oh, and one last thing - all of you whom I've been telling about the 72 degree sunny weather?  It's all lies.  Today was about fifty degrees and windy, and supposedly it's going to get down to 28 tonight.  They say it's a cold front moving over the entire Western US, and that it's blizzarding in Wyoming and Colorado right now, but I see through their claims - the whole "come to the desert for the nice winter weather" thing is one big joke meant to lure unsuspecting northerners down here.  Don't be fooled!

• Roughly three of four pizzas and one of two plates of hummus eaten
• Half of beer drunk, other half taken away
• Two-thirds of leftover stuff now gone
• Quality time spent with eight friends, old and new
• A surprisingly large amount of cash in the donation bowl at the end of it all

Yeah, I think I'm going to call this whole shindig a pretty resounding success.  I would've liked a few more people to show up and take things away, but the ones who came by did a pretty darn good job on their own, and I don't think I could've asked for a livelier group of people to spend several hours with.

Many, many thanks go to Donna-doll for showing up at 10 AM and helping not only clean the living room and organize/set out everything that was going, but also cleaning out the cupboards as she emptied them and buying the pizza.

Laura, the lady who bought my car, came by for a while and had a great time - she fit right in with all our crazy friends.  She was very sweet - when we were telling her about some of our culinary adventures, she was going "Wow, why'd I have to meet you guys now?"  Hopefully she'll come visit us in Arizona sometime so we can cook for her.  Plus she's my shoe size too, so between her and Donna I managed to find homes for almost all of my nice shoes.

I think my favorite moment was towards the end when Chris picked up the donation bowl and went "Okay, so you guys are getting rid of this, right?  'Cause I'll take it off your hands as a favor if you want," and Brian and I laughed and laughed...both because it was funny, and because Brian had predicted Chris would do exactly that at some point during the night.

Jeanne was there too, with Anderson, now six weeks old and still one of the most remarkably adorable babies I've seen.  I have to admit, even though it wasn't much of a stretch picturing Jeanne as a mother, it's still wonderful to see how happy she is.  I know it's something she's wanted for a while.  Anderson doesn't have much personality as of yet, but I'm sure he'll grow into it soon, especially with such loving parents.

Robert, a friend of Donna's and reader of this blog through Facebook (*waves at Robert*) came as well and brought his lovely wife Olga.  I was amused at how amazed he seemed that we were just giving all this stuff away, and weren't depressed or sorry about it - I guess he forms stronger attachments to things than we do.  Fortunately he didn't let his amazement get in the way of taking lots of stuff, and we got the benefit of some great conversation from both of them besides.  And they, along with everyone else, rocked out to AC/DC's "Big Balls", which was awesome.

Monica came, of course, although she was mostly just her usual cheerful unobtrusive self.  She didn't seem to mind my showing people the picture of her Halloween costume (as various parts of it were scattered about to find homes), which provided for quite a bit of amusement.  And she got to play dress-up with my clothes, although how that's really all that different from any number of times she's come over I'm not certain, aside from the size of the audience.

I swear, good friends are what makes the difference between life being "decent" and "great".  I know some introverted people who would disagree with me, but I think there's a distinction there - a good friend knows when to leave you alone and when they need to be there for you.  We've been blessed with a surfeit of wonderful friends of that nature, and I'm grateful for each and every one of them.

Mid-move right now. Everything's going remarkably smoothly, even including the suddenly-leaving-four-days-earlier-than-we-thought aspect. The house is a wreck (of course), but we've got most of the big stuff sold. My car is paid for and turned over to a new owner who's a very sweet lady, quite happy to have it and willing to be flexible/trusting on the paperwork (which I'm eternally grateful for, given that getting the title from the lienholder is turning out to be a long damn process). Bed and one bookcase are gone, and much of the remaining furniture is spoken for; everything we're shipping is on pallets and waiting for the barge to leave, as is the car we're keeping; cats have carriers and Valium for the plane ride; lease is signed for the place in AZ and the landlord doesn't mind that we're arriving early; air tickets are set to go.

It certainly hasn't been easy; we're both tired and there's still a lot to do. The housecooling party is tomorrow and there's a lot of cleaning/organizing that needs to be done before people come over. Donna's coming over to help with that, though, and after it's just a matter of donating or dumping the stuff we can't get rid of, cleaning up the apartment (hooray for landlords who will actually be in town for a walkthrough), and heading out. Crazy stuff.

Relocating one's life is never a simple task, especially from someplace as remote as Alaska. But given what a nightmare our last move was (just going across town), I'm rather grateful that this one's been so smooth.

For all of you who didn't buy my car (which is...all of you) there's now a second opportunity - buy some of our furniture! (Or just take it away; really, at this point, we're trying to avoid putting it in the dump.)

Finding out that your theory regarding the origin of a popular news story was probably correct...

...or having Fox News and its ilk being the only media outlet that's even tried to pursue the question?

I mean, here I was feeling all smug for having used my cynicism and knowledge of human nature to predict that the story was probably a publicity stunt pulled by the parents, so of course when the boy lets slip something that sounds like it's confirming my theory, I feel vindicated (if disappointed that the more base elements of human nature are overcoming common sense yet again).  But then I get scooped by Fox News, of all places, and suddenly I'm not so sure that making an accurate prediction was such a feat - it probably didn't take any particular amount of thought from them, after all.  They're professional muckrakers; finding the seamy underside of any given story is what they do. 

No, I'm not planning to suddenly become bright and happy and trusting of every human soul.  But I might well benefit from some time spent thinking about what class of person I want to align myself with, intentionally or unintentionally.

(On a side note, there should be a word for that mood you find yourself in when you're gleefully careening along a particular path until you discover something that makes you slam on the brakes and rethink your assumptions about said path and whether it's the one you really want to be on.  It's an odd feeling, still energetic but also slightly shameful and disappointed, sort of like having the mental bends.  But since the English language doesn't seem to have such a thing, I'll just go with "thoughtful".)

See, I've even got a craigslist ad up for it and everything.

Seriously, I love this car, but if we can avoid shipping two cars south I'd far prefer to do so. If you know anybody local who'd love a reliable little grocery-getter that's also way cute and fun to drive, let me know - I'm asking $8500 (the Kelley Blue Book is over $10,000) but I'm willing to bargain.

...is that sooner or later, you have to actually start doing them, and it's scary as all hell.

I could sit here and be freaked out and upset and wonder how I was going to handle the next few weeks.

But I think right now rather hum something happy.

So - Mahna mahna!

Amsterdam's Anne Frank Museum apparently tracked down the only existing video footage of Anne Frank - from a neighbor's wedding, when she was putting her head out the window to get a good look at the bride and groom.  It's kind of a sweet clip - they've obviously done a fair amount of clean-up work on it, and while you can't see her very well (home video being what it was in the forties), she does look happy.

If you have a Hotmail account, it might be a good plan to change your password, as tens of thousands of username/password combos have shown up on the Internet recently.  Supposedly they came from a phishing scam, but you never know...

Also, I heard this on the radio coming back from lunch and nearly burst out laughing in the car - the Nigerian government is apparently planning a $2 billion economic stimulus of their own.  Supposedly funded by oil savings, but, well...the jokes just kind of write themselves, don't they?