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September 28, 2004
Big Spaz
Lani, writing from the glamorous closet, in her pajamas...
This is the big day, the Day My First Book Releases. In my life, there will only be one of these.
And strangely... it's a little anticlimactic. I've been getting reports of people buying Time Off all over the country for a week, and that's been really cool, but it steals a little thunder from the Big Day. Which is okay by me - I love those reports. I print them out and roll in them on my bed at night.
(I'm kidding about that last part. I sincerely hope you knew that.)
But, anyway, like the big spaz I am, I went to (Unnamed Huge Labyrinthine Book Conglomerate) last night. It was a day early, but Adam and I thought that at least they'd have stock in the back that I could sign and there was a chance, just a chance, that it would be our first Official In The Store Sighting. And that would be cool.
Side note: Did y'all know these UHLBCs do the evil-corporation-sucking-the-will-to-live-out-of-their-employees thing? I did not know that. But back to the story...
So, last night, Adam and I took the kids to the mall on a reconnaisance mission, just in case, because You Never Know. And we walked in, and we coolly made our way past the new paperback table, casually tossing a glance over the copies, without a care in the world...
And then I gasp, jump up and down like a big spaz, and point. "There it is! Oh my God! There it is!"
They had five copies out on the front table. Five copies. Woo hoo!
There was much rejoicing for me and Adam, but the kids were predictably unimpressed. They were all "I want the Dora books! I want the Dora books!" Rotten little rottens. So Adam dragged them up to the kids section where they tortured him with hot pokers... I mean, books of the Ni-Ni-Ni-Ni-Nick Jr. variety.
Me, I went to find Information Desk Guy. He was standing, conveniently enough, behind the information desk. His hair was not white, and not gray, but some strange, almost colorless, in-between shade. That should have been my first clue, but I was too bubbly and excited. So I grin, lean over the table, and say breathlessly, like the big spaz that I am, "Hey, that's my book out there, mind if I sign your stock?"
IDG looks at me with the dull eyes of a feudal slave and groans, "Yeah. Which one."
(Note: The absence of question marks in this sentence represents the complete and utter lack of inflection and/or evidence of a life force. Were I a horror writer, I would have started imagining evil conglomerates making deals with the devil to drain the essence from its employees so they worked continuously and never quit. Instead, as a chick lit writer, I thought, "Poor guy needs some coffee.")
So I lead him to The Table and point out my book. He picks them up with all the enthusiasm of a cave troll and hauls them over to the desk, then trudges behind the desk to, I'm assuming, search for a reason to continue living.
"Thanks," I say quietly, ruffling through my bag. "I'm sure I've got my own pen here... somewhere. Don't worry."
He wasn't worried in the least. Not as far as I can tell, anyway. I'm not really good at reading people whose life force has been ripped from their being. Lack of experience and all. So I sign the books, and I realize as I'm doing it that he has no idea who I am. Didn't ask for any form of ID, nothing. I could have signed all of Alesia's books, and Michelle's (which were both out on the table with me, Alesia's just one book over, which cockled the warmths of my heart) and he probably wouldn't have so much as blinked.
So I sign them, and tap the pile with a big smile. "All done. There you go. Do you need me to put autographed stickers on them?"
I dug into my bag. I have my own "Autographed Copy" stickers. I carry them with me. Because, you know, I'm a big spaz.
Anyway, he trudges over, takes the books from me, and says, "No. We have those," in the same way that a death row inmate, when asked what he'd like for a last meal, might say, "What's the point."
Sans question marks.
So, he takes these big, square, UHLBC-edition "Autographed Copy" stickers, and slaps 'em on the covers. Just slaps 'em on. Doesn't worry about the fact that, on some of his random hits, he's covering my name, or the title, or the face of the girl, or some other essential cover element. Now, granted in his defense, there isn't a whole lot of room on that cover for an autograph sticker, and the UHLBC ones are kinda big, but there was the one empty, lime-green box on the right side...
... which was, in every incident, on all five books, uncovered by the sticker, while the person who buys that book from this particular UHLBC will have to open it to find out who wrote it.
So. There you go. My somewhat less-than-enthusiastic introduction to the world of the Published Author With An Actual Book In Bookstores. But, what are you gonna do? I mean, how was I to know that UHLBC systematically sucks the life force out of its employees? What were the chances?
Although, if I'da been a horror writer, I might have seen it coming.
Posted by Lani at 8:29 AM | Comments (11)
September 27, 2004
Mother Nature's Temper Tantrums
Alesia, from hurricane freakin' central...
All righty, then. Four hurricanes in a month. I've pretty much had enough of this. And - let me say this right upfront -- I have no right to complain. Zero. The worst damage I had was brief periods of power out and a lot of trees down. You better believe we're helping out the people who have real damage, too.
BUT (there's always a but, isn't there??), I now own enough batteries to power half the sex toys in North America.
And enough bottled water to fill a swimming pool. And enough stress and sleepless nights to give me a raging headache: watching for the near-constant tornadoes, so I could rush everyone into the closet, wore me out.
When Jeanne was bearing right down on us, Navy Guy got sent to Maine to hurr-evac a plane. Which is fine for him. And the plane. And even Maine, really.
Me and the kids? Not so much.
I did, as you would expect, call him at 4 a.m. one night to share my excitement over the winds threatening to blow trees on our roof. :)
When you think there's a good chance that you might lose your house, the whole world narrows down to a few decisions. What do you take? Which of a lifetime's accumulated possessions rates being carried along in the car?
I asked the kids to each pick their top 10 fave toys, but this brought tears, so I said it could be top 20. The dog was easy - her favorite stuffed hedgehog and her food and she was good.
I'm not much of a 'stuff' person, but it was still surprising how little I cared about bringing. Our important papers, of course. Pretty much all my computer stuff from my office, my contracts, my book I"m working on right now.
Other than that, there wasn't much. The most important thing was a box of my photo albums - pictures of my kids as babies that I could never replace.
Mother Nature had her temper tantrums -- four of them. We're all down here picking up the pieces and helping and praying for those hardest hit. But in the fury of the storm, I realized some truths about what really matters to me. And none of it cost any money at all.
Hug somebody you love,
Alesia, in a contemplative mood
Posted by Alesia at 10:15 PM | Comments (2)
Telemarketer Torture
From Michelle, in the Slagroom...
Not that I don't like telemarketers personally, because they are usually nice people, but I so hate having to say "no" and hang up the telephone, because it's rude, and it must be such a hard job to do, but there is a limit to how many $15 donations one woman can give!
So one unexpected advantage to being nonreal and currently having no house phone--the telemarketers cannot find me!!
Or so I thought...
...Until I hit the high street.
It would seem that telemarketers in Rotterdam have been replaced by...STREETMARKETERS!
First encounter...
Streetmarketer #1: "Excuse me, madam, can I interest you in..." (but in Dutch)
Me: "Um, sorry, I don't speak Dutch."
Streetmarketer #1 (in perfect English): "Oh, that's okay, I speak English. Can I interest you in..."
Second encounter, 5 minutes later, after have apologized profusely to Streetmarketer #1 that no, I don't want to take up today's special deal on toasters. Or coffemakers.
Streetmarketer #2: "Excuse me, madam, can I interest you in..." (again in Dutch, obviously).
Me (thinking quickly): "Um, sorry, je suis francaise!" (No, I cannot speak fab French, but seems like a great ploy to avoid offending Streetmarketer #2).
Streetmarketer #2 (in flawless French): "Oh, that's okay, I speak French. Can I interest you in..."
Third encounter, 5 minutes later, after have made complete fool of self to Streetmarketer #2, and also apologized to Streetmarketer #2 that no, I don't want to take up today's special deal on office equipment.
Streetmarketer #3: "Excuse me, madam, can I interest you in..." (again, naturally, in Dutch).
Me (trying a different tactic): "Um, sorry, Ich bin Deutsch!" (No, I cannot speak fab German, but hey, by this point I am getting desperate).
Obviously, Streetmarketer #3 also speaks perfect German...
Streetmarketer #4: "Excuse me, madam, can I interest you in..."
Me (now a bag of nerves): "Um, I'm only here on vacation."
Streetmarketer #4: "That's fine, because our hair curlers work all over Europe. In fact, they're perfect for travellers. Why don't you come into the store and I'll give you a trial run. You'd look great with curly hair!"
New plan: plot Streeetmarketer locations on map of Rotterdam and take alternative route in future...or shave head, thereby avoiding need for hair curlers...
Posted by Michelle at 8:05 AM | Comments (2)
September 25, 2004
Trumped
Lani, writing from the closet, in her pajamas...
Hey, all! Just popping in from the middle of revisions to say hello. I know we've been kind of MIA, but poor Michelle is in Rotterdam trying to convince the Dutch that she exists, and as far as I know, Alesia is currently en route to somewhere safe since yet another hurricane is threatening to chomp down on everything she holds dear.
Me, I've been MIA because... well, I have revisions. And a cold.
Oh, who am I kidding? They both trump me. Gah. I never get the good excuses.
Anyway, my life involves nothing quite so interesting as all that. To the best of my knowledge, America knows I exist. I take this from the fact that it keeps asking me to pay taxes, which, quite frankly, I could do without. And there are no hurricanes in New York, nor any real natural disasters, save the overzealous road construction making all of Syracuse look like one big war zone.
Also had a recent who's-the-bigger-geek contest with a friend. Got trumped there, too. Although we never did get to the whole Buffy/Joss Whedon/Colin Firth obsession, so I might still have a fighting chance. The more I think about it, though, the less certain I become that winning this particular fight would not be a hollow victory. I think I might just let Joshilyn have it.
However, in the BIG NEWS column, as the "um" in "triumvirate" I'd like to announce that on Tuesday, Time Off For Good Behavior releases into real bookstores everywhere! I'm hearing reports of it already being on the shelves in some places, but it'll definitely be there on Tuesday. So, if you haven't already pre-ordered it (as many of you report you have, and thank you) you can find it all over the place on Tuesday. Woo hoo!
I've already gotten two great reviews, one from Booklist and the other from Romantic Times (4 1/2 stars, Top Pick, don't ask me why their top score is 4 1/2 stars as opposed to - oh, I'm just brainstorming here - 5 stars, but what do I care as long as they love me?). You can see snippets from both reviews on my website and I believe this answers once and for all the nagging question, "Is Lani above shameless shilling of her book?"
And the answer would be... no. Two kids, not gettin' any cheaper. That's all I'm saying.
Big Literary Chick Love,
Lani
Posted by Lani at 12:55 PM | Comments (3)
September 18, 2004
Knickers & Dimples
Michelle, from lovely Rotterdam...
Am meeting Oh Patient One shortly in quest to become semi-real persons, i.e., we're heading to cell phone shop in order to throw lots of EEE (Euros) at salesperson and hopefully purchase international cell phone, so this is a quick one! (Will keep you posted on cell phone situation and semi-real person status quo--but at least the mail man is delivering my mail, yay!).
Read on for Knickers and Dimples...
NB. Knickers = Panties!
Purchase of the week is 5 pairs of knickers from H&M at BARGAIN price of 27 Euro cents per pair (apx 30 US cents). It's true! Big sale situation! (But not big knickers, of course!)
Picture this: I arrive at cash desk in order to pay. I am totally confident I can do this in Dutch. Simple transaction, therefore good opportunity to practice language skills. Yay for me! Here is my conversation with the assistant:
Assistant: E 1, 35 alstublieft (one Euro 35, please).
Me (handing money to assistant): alstublieft (here you go!)
Assistant: Dank u wel (thank you).
All going brilliantly so far! Assistant packs up my knickers, hands me my change and then...totally deviates from script!
Assistant: een rib out je lijf!
Me: um, pardon? (but in a Dutch accent, obviously)
Assistant: Oh, you're English!
Me (with sheepish grin on face): um, yes (not in a Dutch accent).
Assistant: I was just saying that this is a great bargain--in Holland we say "a rib out of your life" which means that this is a great bargain!
Me: Um, thank you!
Favorite new shopping phrase: een rib out je lijf! Am nearly multilingual!
Moving swiftly on...
Dimples = favorite new bar in Rotterdam, and nothing at all to do with cellulite!
Favorite new friends and bar owners = Jef (pronounced Yef because he is Dutch) and Dan (pronounced Dan because he is English). Lovely, lovely people! In fact, if you want to see them and find out more about the bar, just go here: http://www.dimples.nl/english/index2_uk.htm
Jef and Dan are teaching me vital Dutch phrases to help further improve multilingual situation so can truly become International Chick of Mystery--yay!
Favorite new phrase in Dimples: een glasje wijn, alstublieft = a glass of wine, please!
Favorite other new phrase in Dimples: nog een en dan gann we heen = just one more drink then we're going!
Tot Ziens for now!
Michelle
Posted by Michelle at 8:54 AM | Comments (0)
September 17, 2004
A Book A Day...
Lani, writing from the closet, in her pajamas, living the glamorous life...
Okay, chickadees. Just hopping in quickly to let you know that I've got a contest going on over at my website! I'm giving away a book a day for 10 days! All you have to do to be eligible is subscribe to my newsletter! Go check it out!
Posted by Lani at 9:44 AM | Comments (2)
I broke down and joined a gym
Alesia, writing from Hurricane Central...
From Alesia, the out of shape: I've always belonged to gyms, 'cause then I have no excuse for not working out. But now that I'm writing full time (and just starting out!), I thought I'd be economical and work out at home on my treadmill, weight bench, and loads and loads of fitness tapes that go all the way back to the big-haired 80s aerobics tapes. It SO didn't work . . .
But on the bright side, my weight bench is very convenient for those pesky piles of clean, folded laundry!
See more about the perils of fitness . . .
Joining a new gym when you're out of shape is very intimidating, even for a tough ex-trial lawyer like me who's pretty much not intimidated by anything. So here's how it went:
Me (with darling 4 y.o. daughter, who was having a girls' day with me): I'd like a tour and info on membership.
Beautiful, toned, size-2 health club girl: Sure. Please sign in here.
Gym membership guy shows up. OK, this guy is extremely nice and friendly and not at all your typical pushy salesperson. Plus, they have month-to-month plans only, so no big in-your-face buy now stuff.
But, he looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger in Arnie's pre-politics days. This guy was huge. His arm muscles are the size of Darling Daughter's head.
Not the guy you want to talk to about your Body Fat Analysis, let me just point that out.
So the gym is fabulous and there's a pool and a sauna and a steam room and a hot tub and a children's play area!!
Oh, yeah. They have actual exercise equipment too, sadly. Er, I mean, luckily!
I signed up for a personal trainer, too. So I'll report back monthly on my progress - I'm setting a goal to be unafraid to wear a swimsuit on my Christmas cruise, and look like Linda Hamilton in the 2nd Terminator movie by next spring's RT convention. Hey, you gotta GO BIG on your goals, right? LOL!
(They have swimsuits with long pants, right?)
Alesia, on her way to the gym (which, let me also add, is right across from the ice cream parlor, in a bit of hideously poor planning)
Posted by Alesia at 9:36 AM | Comments (1)
September 16, 2004
Slagroom and Red Tape...
From Michelle, in deepest, darkest Rotterdam...
Actually, the sun just came out so is not at all dark. In fact, it's very nice outside, today).
A little while ago I promised to reveal the secrets of slagroom and, sigh, the joys of red tape during an international move. Let's clear up slagroom, first.
In the UK, a slag=a ho. In the Netherlands, slagroom has absolutely nothing to do with a lot of British ho's all getting together in one room for a bit of a party...slagroom is...whipped cream! Okay, so mebbe it's not that funny, but it just tickled my silly sense of humor!
Read on for the trials and tribs of the red tape...
Before I begin, let me just explain to you the basis for becoming a "real" person in the Netherlands.
You have to register at the Town Hall and get an ID card.
No, the Dutch are not discriminating against foreigners. The Dutch are amongst the nicest, most egalitarian people in the world. Even Dutch people have to register and get an ID card. So, shortly after we arrived, we...
1. Went to Town Hall to become "real" persons. Very nice lady told us that we could only become "real" persons if we could show her either (a) lease agreement for apartment, if we were renting, or (b) mortgage agreement, if we were buying.
2. Unfortunately, we are temporarily in a company apartment. We cannot get (a) rental agreement, or (b) mortgage agreement until we have...ID cards!
3. Undaunted by position of not yet being real, went to bank to open bank account so could transfer money from my American account. Very nice lady at bank told me I couldn't have one unless I got a Sophie number. A Sophie number is kind of like a Social Security number, and you get one from the tax office. No problem! I'm a British citizen, therefore am a European Union citizen, therefore I have the right to live and work in any other EU country! Yay for me!
4. Unfortunately, cannot get a Sophie number until I have visited the "Foreigner Police." No problem! Will go and see them immediately!
5. Unfortunately, the "Foreigner Police" have a backlog and there is no appointment available for another few weeks. Plus, when I visit the "Foreigner Police" I have to take my...ID card with me!
6. My container, um, containing all my worldy goods arrived in Rotterdam port yesterday. I know this because Oh Patient One, my husband, checked...unfortunately, we cannot unpack container until we have a permanent address!
7. I am now in week 3 without home Internet access. Am extremely happy that have found lovely Internet cafe, but it opens and closes at odd hours, and when it is cold and wet I really have to force myself out of the warm apartment to walk to the lovely Internet cafe, so I really, really need home connection. Also, need a telephone so that people can, um, telephone me... Cannot get either, yup, you got it, until I become a "real" person.
8. Solution to phone problem--I know, I'll get an international cell phone thereby removing the problem of (a) not having a permanent address, and (b) being totally out of contact. Cannot get a cell phone until I become a "real" person, unless I am willing to spend an obscene amount of money on deposits, and such.
9. New Plan: I cannot live another week without a telephone. Am going to spend obscene amount of money (at least, credit card is going to cough up an obscene amount of money) and get cell phone...
10. Cell phone store, like an awful lot of places in the Netherlands, does not accept credit cards.
And so it goes...
Michelle, still smiling!
Posted by Michelle at 11:39 AM | Comments (5)
September 15, 2004
Lani's a Big, Fat Doofus
Um... that winner would be...
Deana McLeod of Tacoma, WA.
Not Deanna McCloud as I announced earlier today. Obviously, someone here shouldn't confer with a camel before she's had her morning coffee.
So sorry, Deana. I am so, so sorry. And, just so's we're clear, Alesia and Michelle had nothing to do with the screw up.
Nope. That was all me. Hence, the big, fat doofus.
A thousand apologies to Deana with one "n." Now, I'm going to drink some gin with one "n" and hope Deana can forgive me.
Big doofus.
Posted by Lani at 10:12 PM | Comments (1)
We have a winner!
The entries have been martini'd, the camel has returned, and our winner is...
... I'd ask for a drum roll but that's cheesy...
Deanna McCloud of Tacoma, WA!!!
Congratulations, Deanna! You've just won signed copies of 32AA, AMERICAN IDLE and TIME OFF FOR GOOD BEHAVIOR (plus a bonus CALL WAITING calling card from Michelle!) We'll strap 'em to the back of the camel and send 'em your way!
Watch this space for more giveaways... coming soon...
:) Lani
Posted by Lani at 10:21 AM | Comments (1)
No More Entries!
As of this moment, there will be no more entries taken for the Triple Crown Giveaway. We are, as we speak, employing several children (they have the cutest, tiniest little hands!) to fold up the 161 (woo hoo!) entries we've received into tiny origami martini glasses, and we're just about ready to strap them all on the back of the camel (his name is Bob). Based on estimates, we should have the winner announcement up here by this afternoon.
Bob is really, really fast. And the trip to Tibet is really much shorter than you would think, given modern technology and everything. The tough thing was finding a person pure of heart to make the final selection. Luckily, Bill Clinton was available.
What? They just flushed his arteries. Oh - you didn't think I meant that kind of pure of heart, did you? Well, I didn't. But if you can't find a leprechaun you make do with a short Irishman, right?
Oh. Hell. Did I just offend all the Irish? Don't be offended. I love the Irish. Really. I even pronounce "Celtic" with a hard "C", despite everything that terrible basketball team did to ruin that image.
Oh, man. Now I've offended the Celtics fans. Well. Nothing to be done about that.
Watch this space for the announcement!
:) Lani
P.S. Just to appease the lawyers, a) we don't employ small children, that's illegal and mean; b) there is no camel; c) no one's going to Tibet; d) Bill Clinton is in no way pure of heart. Oh, and he's not associated with this contest, either.
Oh. Great. I've just angered the Dems, didn't I? Yeesh.
Posted by Lani at 8:44 AM | Comments (1)
September 12, 2004
On dinner parties
Live from Alesia, surrounded by dirty dishes and leftovers -- Why is it that having a house full of people over for dinner always seems like a good idea right up until the day of the party?
I love to entertain and even Navy Guy can be persuaded to come out of hermit mode and be social once the people are actually in our house. So the parties themselves always rock. But it's the -- cue eerie music -- hours between (a) waking up and looking blearily around our very kid-friendly house and (b) the time the guests actually arrive that wind up resembling a very bad B movie.
The horror kind.
Me: Where's the fresh fennel? What do you mean, we don't have fresh fennel? You have to go to the store RIGHT NOW and get fennel!!!
Navy Guy: What's fennel?
Me: I don't know! But we need some!! It says right here in the recipe, under . . . oh, crap.
Navy Guy: Oh, crap, what?
Me: Right under "Prepare two days in advance."
[Navy Guy is very wise and keeps stoic silence at this point.]
Then there's the part where we get the house in order.
Me: Honey, why are your dirty socks shoved under your bed? Remember the laundry basket?
Angelic daughter: Yes, Mommy.
Me: Where are your other dirty socks?
Angelic daughter: In my toybox.
Me: Of course. Why didn't I think of that??
Son [who waits till I'm up to my armpits in cutting vegetables]: Will you play name the state flashcards with me again, Mom?
Me: Sure.
Son: You got 7 wrong last time, Mom. You really need to focus.
[OK, I'm really good at the border states. It's some of those in the middle that confuse me.]
Phone rings.
Friend: I know we said we couldn't make it, but now we, our 5 children, and my mother-in-law are unexpectedly free. Can we come after all? We'll bring some beer.
Me [wondering how to stretch 6 chicken breasts 14 ways]: Sure! The more the merrier!
Navy Guy: I think the lawn needs mowed. I'll be outside . . .
Me: Make a move for the door and you're a dead man. The guest bathroom needs cleaned
So here it is, almost midnight, still another dishwasher load to go, and you know what? I'll probably do it again in a month or so. 'Cuz we had a great time and good food and fun conversation and, hey -- I got to keep the leftover cheesecake my friend brought! :)
hugs,
Alesia
Posted by Alesia at 11:07 PM | Comments (0)
September 9, 2004
Everybody's Talking...
... on the literary chicks forums! Hop in the discussion!
Bed Or Dinner?| Our Favorite Books| Lani's Five Questions| Cast AMERICAN IDLE: THE MOVIE
Or, if you're the sit back and read type, check out all the first chapters of Literary Chicks novels!
But whatever you do, don't forget to enter the Triple Crown Giveaway to get signed copies of Literary Chicks books! Contest ends September 15th!
Posted by Lani at 10:24 PM | Comments (0)
Big, Fat, Ugly, Green Lightbulb
Lani, writing from the very glamorous closet...
You know that moment when you realize something about yourself that's probably been obvious to everyone else but you never knew and then the lightbulb goes off and the lighting isn't necessarily flattering? Like when you use the word bitchin' in everyday conversation, and you're not being sardonic or ironic or one of the -ics that turn stupid into cool, and you realize that, without a doubt, you are a geek beyond redemption?
Hmm. Maybe it's just me.
This is how my big, fat, ugly, green lightbulb went off. Alesia and Michelle and I were discussing some possible things we might want to do to spice up Literary Chicks and I thought, "Hey, great idea, but I don't know how to do it," so I started investigating on the web and then decided I'd test it out on a test site with my own website since I kinda needed to redesign it anyway and then spent an entire day at the computer futzing with my site.
An. Entire. Day.
I've always joked about being a geek. I don't necessarily mind being a geek in some ways. I'm a word geek, an 80s trivia geek, a television geek. These all have a certain, albeit geeky, caché.
But computer geek? Spend-an-entire-day-redesigning-a-website geek? Just-because-you-can't-walk-away geek?
That's bad. I'm only about one Comic Con away from translating The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy into Klingon, aren't I?
I find this slightly depressing.
But you should really check out my new site. It's bitchin'.
Posted by Lani at 9:06 AM | Comments (4)
September 5, 2004
Disorder in the House...
From Michelle, in lovely Rotterdam...
Whilst in the midst of The Move from New Jersey to Rotterdam, the Netherlands, I kept a little journal of all the things sent to, um, try my patience...and my sanity...
Read on for my Diary of a Wacky Writer on the Move...
Picture this: Oh Patient One, my husband, left New Jersey at the beginning of June to take up his new job in Rotterdam. Teenager #2 is happily ensconced in the North of England with my family for an extended summer vacation. Remaining in our NJ home are just Teenager #1 and I. With a move to arrange...
Piece of cake, I think to myself. I've moved continent on my own before along with all my worldly goods. I am an experienced mover, I can do this, I am organized. Yay for me!
PACKING DAY ONE
2 a.m. In the morning. On account of not being able to sleep. Possibly also due to impending feeling of doom and gloom that something is about to go wrong...
Packers arrive in approximately 6 hours to begin, um, packing.
Over past few weeks I have thrown out large quantities of black trash bags filled to brim with all unnecessary, useless, unwanted stuff. I'm on top of this. I am totally in control, yes I am...
...Actually, am a bit trepidatious because the packers say that this process will take four whole days. FOUR. WHOLE. DAYS. See, when we first moved here 6 years ago it only took packers 2 days to pack our stuff at the other end. So, and this is the really trepidatious part of the whole thing: does this mean that I have acquired twice as much stuff?
Scary thoughts about how will possibly fit 2x stuff into smaller Rotterdam apartment...
I dismiss all scary thoughts and tell self that I am organized, Ohm, yes indeed I am. I will stop worrying needlessly. Instead, I will move on to next job on list: place all important documents in flight bag so that packers do not pack them. When I say important documents, I mean stuff like birth certificates, marriage certificates, etc., which is fine because I know exactly where they are. We've kept them in the same place for years...
4 a.m.
Cannot find birth/marriage certificates. Anywhere. I have searched every possible place three times. Possibly Oh Patient One took them back to Europe with him? Better send him quick email...
Oh Patient One does not have birth/marriage certificates. He thinks they are in the box with all the photos...
5 a.m.
Nope, not in box with all photos...Will search all obvious and not-so obvious places again...
6.30 a.m.
As I sit down in front of the computer to type another frantic e-mail to Oh Patient One, I have an epiphany moment. The computer desk cupboard is only place in entire house that I have so far not searched. Certificates should not under any circumstances be in there, but it wouldn't hurt to have a quick look...
Oh.
It is at this point that I remember that we put the certificates in here 6 years ago when we moved in...
PACKING DAY THREE
9 a.m.
Teenager #1 flew out to London this morning. Although I smile at the airport, I shed more than a tear or two on the way home because she is, in effect, leaving home.
It is just me on my own today. Plus the packers and the electrician. The electrician because he's coming to hardwire my fire alarms. Hardwiring alarms because is Town rule that I cannot sell house without hardwired fire alarms. This is a good thing, because I am a safety kind of gal! Just wish electrician could have come sooner...
All is going v. well with packing...
11 a.m.
Odd Job Man has cleared basement and attic of all junk/old furniture. It is now sitting at the end of my driveway in a tidy heap. I worry that the Town will get antsy about the amont of junk I have for today's collection, Odd Job Man tells me not to worry, he knows what he's doing, and heads off to another mysterious job...
2 p.m.
Public Works Department is very unhappy that I have so much trash to collect and tell me that I have to hire a dumpster to remove excess trash myself.
I call Odd Job Man and explain to his voicemail that (a) Town is unhappy, (b) I am also very unhappy due to stress and lack of sleep, and (c) I have paid him many $$$ to remove all the trash for me. So why is it still sitting at the end of my driveway?
4.00 p.m.
Electrician has just cut hole in kitchen ceiling. The same kitchen ceiling that I recently had repaired and repainted, due to previous leak from second floor toilet, which I also had fixed. He assures me that all holes in walls and ceilings are necessary for rewiring process, not to worry, because he also assures me that he will fix all holes and clean up mess. Ohm, I will not stress about this.
4.15 p.m.
Disaster has struck. There is another leak from the upstairs bathroom. I know this because water is streaming out of the hole that the electrician has just cut in the ceiling...
Oh Patient One calls me from Rotterdam to see how I am doing, and I burst into tears. It is our wedding anniversary. Oh Patient One makes reassuring noises down phone, tells me he loves me, and will make up for all stress as soon as I arrive in Rotterdam. Feel a bit better, actually.
Suspect packers are sorry for me, because they take it in turns to pat me on shoulder and tell me not to worry...
4.45 p.m.
Emergency plumber arrives. Suspect he is feeling very sorry for me, too, because he and his assistant keep patting me on shoulder and telling me not to worry. Old pipe is reason for leak (possibly pipe also disturbed by electrician) and will cost $$$ to fix. At this stage, I am so grateful that it can be fixed that I hand over my credit card with barely a whimper.
7.30 p.m.
Happy anniversary to me, I think, as I tuck into my Chinese takeout and a nice glass of Shiraz. My baby left home today. I have a pile of junk at the bottom of the sidewalk. I have a leaking ceiling. I have a house full of boxes and cartons, and I also have a broken screen door. Still haven't heard from Odd Job Man.
7.45 p.m.
Odd Job Man arrives. Suspect he feels sorry for me, too, because he keeps patting me on shoulder and telling me not to worry. He will sort out all junk, no worries. He also fixes screen door for me!
PACKING DAY FOUR
4 p.m.
House is completely empty. Is also vacuumed, and as clean as I can get it in the time frame left to me.
Bathroom leak is fixed.
Still have junk at bottom of sidewalk, but less today, which is an improvement.
Still have holes in walls and ceilings on account of electrician not being able to come back to day and fix, but wonderful Real Estate Agent is dealing with all outstanding problems for me. I leave a list with her, leave checks with her, and finally, hand over keys. Love the lovely Real Estate Agent!
Have many emotional moment as very good friend drives me to airport. Despite all stresses of the past few days, I am sooo going to miss America.
DAY ONE IN ROTTERDAM
When I boarded the plane yesterday evening in New Jersey, it was 85 degrees. It is aproximately 50 degrees in the Netherlands this morning, and is gray and raining.
Am very sad and a bit depressed at leaving the States.
But as I walk through to the arrivals hall, I see Oh Patient One waiting for me.
He smiles, and I feel instantly better.
Back soon with Red Tape and Slagroom!
Hugs,
Michelle :-)
Posted by Michelle at 8:04 AM | Comments (1)
September 4, 2004
Fiets and Feets...
A few days ago I promised to fill you in on my wacky move to Rotterdam, a cautionary tale about everything that could, and, in fact, did go wrong in the middle of a move.
I will indeed do this very soon, waxing lyrically and at length. Actually, I waxed lyrically and at length about this very subject not five minutes ago, but the Internet cafe computer (still no air conditioning in here, sigh) JUST ATE MY ENTIRE ENTRY because I was out of credit time (gah!).
So in the meantime, because it was a long post and because I'm still suffering from the remnants of the horrible summer cold that has kept me couchpotatoing on the, um, couch for most of this week, here's a little about what the Dutch do on their bikes...
The Netherlands is the country of the bike, or the "fiets" as it is called here (sounds like feets). Everyone has one. Kids learn to ride practically before they can walk. Here are the top ten things that the Dutch do on their fiets (or is it fietses?)
1. Walk the family dog (no, I am not kidding). Or even walk dogs in the plural. When I say "walk" I mean, of course, that it is only the dog/s who will doing any actual walking.
2. Go supermarket shopping for a week's worth of provisions. Even in driving rain.
3. Chat to friends on cell phone whilst cycling to work/school. Or, in fact, on the way home from the supermarket with a week's worth of provisons on board.
4. Apply makeup whilst cycling to work/school (don't try this at home, everyone!)
5. Take the kiddies for a breath of fresh air around the park (Dutch parents of small kiddies often have a seat on the front AND the back of their bikes). In fact, they take the kids EVERYWHERE on their bikes...including supermarket shopping.
6. A bike is also handy for moving house...just imagine how much stuff you can stuff into your saddle bags, and how many bags you can carry on the handlebars. Not to mention how much stuff can be crammed into those handy kiddie seats on the front and back...
7. Impress your friends by cycling without hands. Actually, scrub that, because all your friends, too, can cycle without hands...
8. Impress foreigners by cycling without hands...
9. Offer 2 friends a ride to wherever it is that you are all going (possibly to supermarket?), because there is plenty of space for one additional person on the front and one person on the back...
10. Cycle to school because there is no direct tram or bus, and your parents haven't got a car, because they haven't got a parking space, and a car is no good in a city if you have nowhere to park it, and getting a parking space involves a long waiting list...
That last one is, I have to admit, a bit autobiographical.
The number #3 tram used to go all the way from our temporary apartment to Teenager #2's new school. It was cancelled the week before we arrived here, which means we can either (a) take a tram for half of the route and walk the rest or (b) just cycle and save time.
And now I'm off to inadvertently terrorize the innocent cyclists by wobbling ineptly down the cycle lanes--am building up stamina ready for supermarket shopping. Can't wait until I can cycle without hands!
More tomorrow from me about Red Tape and Slagroom...(and no, slagroom does not mean a room full of slags)
Bye for now!
xx
Posted by Michelle at 11:41 AM | Comments (1)
September 3, 2004
just when you thought it was safe to go back in the kitchen . .
or that food couldn't get any scarier than the 3 week old cheesepuffs you had for lunch on deadline, there's this: Recipe Cards from the 70s
Snappy mackerel, anyone?? Yum, yum!
alesia, cringing
Posted by Alesia at 12:53 PM | Comments (2)
Hello from hurricane central
and I'm not just talking about the inside of my house, post-deadline, this time!! (Oh, did I mention - more than 100 times - that the Book is Done?) I finally finished my second teen chick lit book, SUPER 16, and shipped it off!! Lovely, darling editor wrote back that she LOVES it, so am happy dancing. [Read more for laughter, tears, and free prizes!]
Anyway, I finally surface from my bleary-eyed fog, just to see a Category 4 hurricane is BEARING DOWN ON JACKSONVILLE!!!!! Aaaarghhh!!
Darling husband (and I feel I need a name, since Lani & Michelle have husbandly-type euphemisms; must go with Navy Guy - yes, he does look HOT in his dress whites, no, you can't borrow him!
I'm, like, so NOT.
Enter shouting match:
Me: We're going to lose our HOUSE! You're the GUY! You're supposed to BOARD things and NAIL things and DO things!
Him: Yes, you're right, our freaking house is going to land on the freaking moon because I didn't board the windows yet, 3 days before the hurricane arrives here.
Both of us: Look at each other and crack up completely
So, as you may have guessed, storm turned, house not in danger of landing in Oz, and I'm free to do any of the million things I need to do post-deadline. Instead, I started a game of Bed Or Dinner in the forums. Please play!!
FREE STUFF: To reward all the lovely readers who come to visit us in the forums, I'm giving away some free stuff!
oops. must go do actual work!
hugs,
Alesia
Posted by Alesia at 11:36 AM | Comments (0)
September 2, 2004
Byte Me, A Cautionary Tale
Lani, writing from the very glamorous closet...
There are a couple of golden rules about computers. One, don't under any circumstances ever buy a Compaq.
Ever.
Two, the more you know about computers, the more that knowledge will come back to bite you in the ass.
My laptop went boom yesterday. Instead of raising my fists to the sky and cursing the heavens like a sailor with Tourette's Syndrome, I decided, "Hey, I've got some computer know-how. I'll just fix it myself." (italics added in hindsight for emphasis of my own stupidity)
Now, of course, those of you who, like myself, have just enough knowledge about computers to be seriously dangerous are probably cringing at home, yelling at the computer screen, your slow-motion "Nooooooooooo!!!!" glancing helplessly off the side of the monitor.
Or... you know... maybe not. Maybe I'm being overdramatic. I have that tendency. You know... author. Anyway, I started the reformat at two o'clock yesterday afternoon. At this moment, a full 24 hours later, I'm still working on it. I've had maybe four hours of sleep all told. Why? Because I'm obsessive. But that's a blog for another day.
So, last night after spending the afternoon reformatting (long process, this) I sat down with a glass of wine and went to it. I loaded some software, found a problem, couldn't figure it out, loaded drivers, loaded software, had another glass of wine, got loaded... nothing worked.
Fine. So I reformatted again, didn't bother loading the software, found I had the same problem, found a new driver, loaded the driver, it didn't fix the problem (I know - you're shocked.) So, instead of going to bed like a sane person and calling for a tech in the morning, I...
... say it with me now...
... reformatted again. (Just because it didn't work the first time doesn't mean it won't work now... I know enough about computers to know that they test the definition of insanity on a regular basis.) So hey, yay me - the problem is fixed, and I start loading my software, expecting a late but respectable Estimated Time of Slumber... but now there's a second problem, a worse problem, dealing directly with my wireless internet.
Gah.
Well, five hours, two tech support calls, and endless wailing and gnashing of teeth later, I give in to the throes of desperation and reformat.
Again.
And suddenly, as the sun rises behind me, everything's fine. Everything works.
For absolutely no reason at all. I did nothing different during the last reformat, save some vigilant prayer and the sacrifice of a small chicken. Okay. A Peeps. But still, I say Gah. Friggin' computers.
The moral of this cautionary tale is... send your computer to a tech and get reamed up the credit rating like everybody else. It's just not worth it.
Well, this is a short entry, but not very interesting, so at least I minimized the pain. But you know what is interesting? The forums. Why? Because it's all about you, and as you can see if you read them, you all are frickin' hilarious. So go kill some time, why don't you? I need some reading material to occupy me while I spend countless hours reinstalling software...
Hugs & Puppies,
Lani
Posted by Lani at 2:11 PM | Comments (1)
