I have a phone there, I have a webcam and Skype. For heaven's sakes this is the 21st century, let's stay in touch.
And now, for our feature presentation, I'd like to give you a glimpse of my past 24 hours:
Thursday morning, 10am: Wake up (late) get dressed, get a call from my [former, though I deny it] roommates having roommate breakfast in Chicago at 5128 N. Kimball. Man, do I miss those pancakes. I mean, women...
11am: I head off to the Police station, because wouldn't you know I need a background check to apply for a work permit in Germany. The policeman at the desk wasn't very helpful when I walked in. In fact, he was borderline rude. I'm not used to the police station, OK, buddy? Then, I have to pay $6 by cash or check for this little baby. Well I apologize, but I try to rid myself of American currency before I leave for foreign countries, so I don't have $6 in cash and who really carries checks with them everywhere? In any case, I was eventually directed to "the lobby" where there is an ATM. I have to come BACK to Mr. Highorse at his front desk (I felt like I was in Harry Potter's Ministry of Magic --" leave your wand here, please"), who appears, to me, to be in the lobby. I embarrass myself, looking for the ATM, but looking more LIKE a homing pigeon or a vulture, circling his desk about 10 times in a row while he (I imagine) smirks. When I ask him where the ATM is, he also says, "in the lobby". I am IN the lobby! Can you all help me define the word lobby? He was sitting at a desk at the end of an entryway lined with chairs. This, to me, appears to be a lobby. NO ATM to be seen. After another trip back to ask for help, in addition to an embarrassed demand to some Catholic school moms on a field trip, I finally found "the lobby".
Since when is the space between an outside door and an inside door validly called "the lobby", anyway???
12:45: I arrive at my grandparents' house in Kalamazoo. I have volunteered to wax their floor for them today as an excuse for spending time with them before I leave for Germany (no packing done yet). Long story short, I attempted to buff the hallway and kitchen with an industrial-size buffer that weighed about 200 pounds. I'll let you imagine two senior citizens and yours truly trying to pull THAT out of a trunk.
Babcia: "Okay, hold on tight because that thing is going to zoom out
Me: "Alright, I'm sure I'll be fine"
[Babcia plugs in buffer. Buffer spins out of control and Babcia emits a magnetic force, pulling the buffer toward her body. I fly in mid-air with the buffer as it attaches itself to my grandmother's foot and, as far as I can tell, attempts to eat her entire right leg. I am trying frantically to turn the buffer off until my grandmother geniously unplugs the dad-gum thing. I realize I am on the floor, too distracted by trying to save my Babcia to notice that I, too, have been defeated by the maniacal machine. I stand up, picking up the pieces of my broken self-dignity and we return the buffer to the Kalamazoo "Rentelex".]
7:30pm: I arrive home and Jesse and Nanea surprise me with going away gifts. WOW! I was totally spoiled. Standing in the kitchen, I show our guests the new Bollywood dance-steps I learned on OnDemand, the Deer and the Lotus. Jesse says, "Man, I'm really going to miss this". Everyone erupts into ferocious laughter.
8:00pm: Laura comes over and we begin the descent into my room, after I've told her that "I have everything packed....in my mind!" Laura gasps in horror when she enters my room but soon recovers and perches herself in that same spot on my bed she has occupied during THREE of my pre-life-changing-move-packing-sessions to date. Laura, my friends, is a genious. If you are moving out of the country soon, I highly recommend her services.
6:30am Friday: Up to say goodbye to Jesse and finish packing.
3:45pm: I am successful! We leave for the airport! One bag, one backpack, and two carry-ons. For ONE YEAR. Be impressed.
4:05pm: My flight to Atlanta is canceled because of weather conditions. I'm spending the night in GR.
4:20pm: Dad pages Mom at the GRAND RAPIDS aiport because we lost her. (For those of you form outside GR, the airport is about the size of, say...my house).
5pm: Call Etienne in Germany, waking him up to tell him that I won't be there tomorrow.
12:30am: I'm writing a blog in my bedroom at home when I should be on a flight over the Atlantic. Life just works like that sometimes.
I'm off tomorrow (Saturday) at 12:20pm. Pray the weather is better in Atlanta!
Next post, I hope, will be from the other side of the ocean....