It isn't just me...

Hurray for this article in Slate. It's nice to know that I'm not the only one who can't figure out how the hell to do those damn sudoku puzzles and doesn't think crossword puzzles are the bee's knees. Which is probably a good thing or else Michael and I would fight over the puzzle page at the end of the Sunday Times magazine. I'm more than happy to leave crossword puzzling to him and I will carry on with the reading parts. You know, before I fall asleep with my glasses still on and the book splayed open on my chest.

The Neti Pot - Day 1...

Michael and I met our new GP this week at the medical office complex from hell and she was very nice. She recommended we use a neti pot which I already have (thank you, Hefk!) but have not yet used. So, I decided today was the day. Our doctor recommended using it in the shower since it's kind of messy until you get used to it but I didn't want to get in the shower yet (showering before tennis=waste of water) so I followed the directions that came in the box and did it over the sink. And I think I did okay. It didn't really go down the back of my throat which was good but I was not prepared for the resulting drippy nose. I blew my nose a few times after I was done but then it kept dripping. Is it supposed to do that?

In the meantime, I had the fabulous idea to unpack my china (seriously, why the hell did I take this stuff from my mother?) so I could put it in the cabinet (now safely secured with earthquake straps--a topic for another time) and managed to drip all over the glass shelves I was cleaning. Gross, I know. By now, the dripping has stopped but I'm left with a bit of sinus pressure on the left side in both my frontal and nasal sinuses. Is that supposed to happen? How soon does that weird there's-something-liquid-up-my-nose feeling go away?

Great Sexist-pectations...

You know, it's 2008. Not the 1800s, not 1950 but 2008. I know that sexism is alive and well but recently I got smacked upside the head with it. Twice. Not in major, frontline news kinds of ways but the subtle little shitty ways that are so part of everyday life that most people don't even think about them.

The first time was at the bank. Michael and I went in to open new checking and savings accounts and I took the initiative and I told the banker what we wanted. And what did she do? She listed Michael as the primary on our jt checking. Why? Because he's the husband. He's the man and I am the lowly woman who does not get to be listed as the primary on the checking account. And I was so stunned by it that I didn't know what to say. Then she asked me where I worked and when I said I didn't she asked if I was a homemaker. A homemaker? Do people even do that anymore? I am a woman who happens to be a wife who isn't working and that makes me a homemaker? WTF, people?!? Why can't I just be unemployed? Why can't I just be a person who is not currently employed but is looking for a job. Why not ask me if I am a job seeker not a fcking homemaker?

The second time occurs when getting quotes for car and renter's insurance. I called the broker Michael used during grad school and the company with the most competitive quote wants a copy of our marriage certificate because we have different last names and need to prove that we are actually married. Now, this is not the broker's fault. But I did tell her how appallingly sexist this policy is and if the quote weren't so dang competitive, I would have asked for a quote from another company. I wouldn't mind if they applied this policy across to the board. If you insist that all couples provide a copy of their license, then fine. That's fair. But to single out people like us is total crap. And if it weren't for Michael's minor fender bender in the snow last year, I would go somewhere else but we just can't afford it. But, by Ogg, they are going to hear from me.

No more shitwiches...

At least for the time being. So, I realize that my little bloggy post there was cause for concern for some of you--rest assured, things are returning to normal. Many of you were at the wedding and have already heard my tales of woe. For those of you still in the dark, here is the recap:

• Less than 24 hours before closing on the sale of our house, the stupid buyers start freaking out over the crack in the basement that I disclosed in our first contract and had noted that I was taking bids for repair. I had since brought someone in to repair it and he did a damned fine job. However, I did not think to ask for a receipt esp. since I paid in cash. He's an industrial engineer by trade but is retired from that line of business and rehabs houses in the neighborhood now. Great guy. Anyway, butthole buyers keep acting like we're lying and even tho you can see that the concrete in the SE corner is a different color and texture than the rest of the floor, they claim that it wasn't fixed. So our realtor spends the afternoon trying to call in contractors to no avail. Long story short, Michael sends them an email detailing what we had done and includes a diagram. Thurs. am while I am in transit to the east coast the paperwork is signed and we are no longer the owners of that house. I land at O'Hare around lunchtime and treat myself to a cold beer and a sub-optimal portobella sandwich (hey, at least it wasn't a shitwich).
  

• At the same time, I am experiencing extreme frustration with the idiots at Sylvan Learning Ctr in Mt. View. I arranged to have their facility privately proctor my stupid NET exam for nursing school and after dealing with the headache of making said arrangements and taking the test, thought everything was a done deal. I could not have been more wrong. Turns out that somehow the testing company neglected to include the Big Brown return envelope or the idiots at SLC misplaced it when they opened the package. So, I took the test the Friday before last. They call me Wed. am when I am trying to tie up loose ends, finish laundry and pack before my early morning flight on Thurs. They never sent my test back to the testing company for scoring. They wanted me to come bring them a shipping label. I'm confused as to why they aren't using the one that should have been included with the test. The girl I'm talking to is confused. I hang up and call the testing company. The customer service rep says it will be faster if I just go buy a Big Brown envelope and drop it off at the test site. I call back. The girl tells me they have the envelope...they were confused about when I wanted them to mail the test back to the testing company...WTF?!?!? I make the girl promise me that she will personally get in her car and drive the test to the nearest Big Brown Flush it Down drop box or business. I hang up and go back to packing and laundry. I get a call a few hours later from the director of the school of incompetence asking me why I haven't dropped off a mailing envelope for them yet. Seriously? My god, what the fck is going on over there?!? Another long story short, she calls the testing company and gets their UPS shipping acct no. and drops off my test. I get some BS excuse about "I'm really busy...blah, blah, blah." Well, I'm busy, too, and I paid you people $55 to hand me my test and then to take it to fcking UPS after I finished with i. Idiots. SLC is run by incompetent boobs so if you or your future kids needs their services I would consider going somewhere else. Idiots.
  

• So, now the good news. The house sold and after our mortgage, HELOC, realtor and closing fees were paid, the remainder was wired to our checking acct. Woo! Also, I got my test scores Mon. night and they were good enough for the nursing program. I did better on the math section than the reading comp--go figure.
  

• The just plain old news is that I got an email yesterday from the school saying that they have completed the first portion of application review and apps now go forward to the faculty. They have 80 apps for the San Mateo campus and only 48 spots. Keep your fingers crossed that I'm one of the 48. If I don't get into this program I really don't know what to do with myself. I can't keep treading water until I can get in somewhere...sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't have stayed in OH until I finished my degree. Blarg. Anyway, no sense worrying about it now. I should hear sometime in October.
  

So, that's it. No more shitwiches for now. At least not this week.

My luncheon with the Universe...

Me: What should I order...hmmmm....the portobella mushroom with goat cheese and roasted red peppers looks yummy...

Universe: No, I think you should order the shit sandwich platter.

Me: Shit sandwich platter? That doesn't sound tasty at all.

Universe: Waiter? This lovely lady here would like to order the shit sandwich platter. Chop, chop!

Me: Universe, what have I done to piss you off?

(Waiter brings platter of shit sandwiches, places platter in front of me)

Universe: Here, Kelly, have a shit sandwich. They sure are delicious, aren't they?

Me: Nom...nom...no, this is terrible! I would really rather have the portobella...

Universe: No, no, this is so much tastier. Here, have another...

Me: Nom...nom...this sucks...nom..nom...could I at least have the lemon curd tartlet for dessert?

Universe: No, you may have the shit tartlet. Eat up!

I guess the cat's outta the bag...

Well, most of you don't know this but the neighbors do...the sale of our house is pending and we close at the end of the week. We've chosen not to discuss this with anyone other than our parents--mostly for superstitious reasons but also because this is so hard. We love our house (although I had some serious moments of intense dislike while prepping it for sale) and our neighborhood and are so sad that we must turn over the keys to new owners. I hope they love our house as much as we do and hope they don't do anything horrible to it like paint the woodwork.

There was a time when we thought we'd live there until Michael retired from the university. But when the tenure process didn't work out and we found ourselves here in CA, we carried on smartly to do what needed to be done. And now that we're (mostly) settled into our new digs and getting used to our new surroundings...I don't know...it's just hard. I wish I could have picked up our house and our neighborhood and moved it here to CA. It's not even that I'm so attached to Dayton...Michael is, but I'm not so much. But I do miss our friends and the familiarity that comes from having lived someplace for a number of years.

What makes it harder is that the buyers have already called the utility companies to transfer the billing and I can't help but feel annoyed that they're doing this when it's not their house yet. I know it's stupid to feel this way but it's our house until they sign on the dotted lines. Our house. I can't believe other people are going to be living in our house...

I think it's good that we live so far away because that gives us the physical distance to lend us the emotional distance we need. We'll always have fond memories of our time there. Admittedly, it's a relief to sell so quickly in this market and to have gotten a good sale price, at that. It's also nice not to have a rent payment plus mortgage payment every month. Still, I can't help but feel sad. I'm really going to miss that house...

p.s. I found the futon hardware--hurray!