WoOt the Teen has arrived!

Okie Dokie!
Hello ladies and Gents and all you people who love and worship me! I have been told that you guys have missed me terribly and want me to blog. So...

This is a blog...
It has words...
That I've written...
To you...
Yes, you...
With the face...
*Cough*
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So, hi. I guess I should tell you all about Merry Old England. (BTW, Texas has twice the land size as the UK including the Uk's water, and England has a little over twice the population.) So, what's the Football scores? Oh... Wrong country. I don't think I meant soccer... Lets try this again shall we? So, whats the Rugby scores? Hehe, I honestly don't know what to say to you. I bet your expecting the whole 'Oh, it's green' or 'Oh it's cold' or 'Oh, the people talk funny' type bit, or maybe the whole 'I miss home', 'I miss you so much!', and 'I miss the Hot Cheetos' type thing. Well, I really do miss the Cheetos. Hehe I made a funny....

I would think that you would know that I miss you guys so terribly, that I think about you often, and you should know change is hard. I find this country so weird, and even though we're speaking the same language the language barrier is quite big. Here's some news you might not know: My boyfriend from the states and I are still together. You think I'm crazy. I can feel it. Umm, anyway yes, I AM crazy, but I love him to pieces and I won't give him up for every British guy and girl that this over populated country can throw at me! Now let me tell you something, long distanced relationships are hard, like Mondo hard. But totally worth it.

So school is fine; struggling in math, I'm expected to already know Calculus, Statistics, Algebra two... the list goes on and on about the things I wouldn't learn for another year or more in America. But it's all good, people LOVE my accent. "It's southern, and so American!" I only have a southern-ish accent around my family, thank you very much. This came from the same people who thought that our States were really the equivilant of Cities and Towns (Yes, America only has like 50 Cities.) They can act so stupid. I bet they get just as frustrated with me because I know nothing about England.

I'm taking a photography class and doing pretty well, considering I've already broken one of the schools cameras. Now I KNOW you're laughing at me, I can hear it from over here! It's not my fault I dropped it on a window sill! (Now is your time to laugh hysterically and send me comments saying, "ROFL[Roll On Floor Laughing], you're such a klutz!" But anyway other than that I'm an amazing student!
Hmm... I was going to show you a picture, but it's not letting me... Next time I snag a school computer I'll post some B-E-A-utiful pidders for you. ( I meant to spell pictures incorrectly just so you know.)

But ya, the life of Ashley consists of mostly school, reading, hoping my stuff will arrive soon (I want the rest of my clothes!), and reading. Oh, plus all the nessesities (E.g. Shower, brush teeth, eat, you get my drift?) So ya, isn't my life lovely? Muahahaha You so wish you were me right now. Don't you wish that you were the one who gets to poison a new country with your White, Trailer Trash/American Toxins and stuff? Like, Totally!

Haha, Love you all!
Ash-y

Waiting for God(ot)...

I am alone this weekend.

All alone, with only my fleas to mourn me.

It's not really been that bad; I have had time to chat and look at far too many things on the Internet and watch the rugby and go shopping and do dishes and laundry and write a letter to Tristan and talk to my mother and write her a letter and order her a map and change those pesky very high lightbulbs and write in my journal and pick my nose and take a bath and go for a walk and watch the moorhens and doodle and pick leaves and think about what it would be like to have a back yard and if I would get in trouble for picking the flowers in the public gardens, and I got a new file box to start organizing the bills... but I haven't started that yet.

Poor you! and why are you all alone? I hear you asking.

Well, it's not like I have a new nephew, like Stephen does. (Congratulations to the entire family!) And so, I'm not in London. And it's not like I have friends to go play lazer tag, spend the night in a whole different town which requires a train to get to, and go beach hanging and ice skating to amuse me, like Ashley does. And so I'm not on the South of England.

It doesn't actually leave me a lot to do.

The hardest part was waking up by myself this morning. And tonight might be worse, if Ashley doesn't make it home until very late. But it will pass, and it is good for me. Almost nice, even. Noone needing to be fed but me. Noone grumpy but me. Noone to get in my way while I scrub the bathtub or gather laundry... or to steal the one book that I wanted to read just before I get to it. And I have my credit card. Aren't they supposed to make everything better?

A weekend is not enough time to miss them, but I do.

Ashley will be home tonight, and then I think I'll wait patiently for my God(ot)...

...but he will actually arrive.

Something Amazing!

The most wonderful thing is happening right now, as we speak....

The leaves are changing colours.

I noticed it yesterday for the first time. The leaves, which up until now have been dizzyingly copious shades and patterns of green, have suddenly got the most stunningly beautiful red edges. I was intrigued. Why had THAT happened? I had never seen such a colour in leaves before... except in that Virginia Creeper that grows outside of Dar and Kim's house when the season starts to turn. Wait a minute... (Slowly lighting bulb over my head... wait for it... wait for it... DING!) Oh!!! Oh!!! It must mean that the leaves are starting to change! But its not even the end of September yet... that shouldn't happen until late October, should it?

I'll confess to being many things, and at times smart is one of them. Just not right now, in regards to this, I suppose. It took me far too long to figure out that the change of season might come so late in the year in the Southwest of New Mexico because of the fact that it is a desert, which I am no longer in. Of course it would get cold earlier here, aren't I always freezing my toes off already? It makes sense that the leaves would change earlier than I am used to.

Upon reflection into my blatant stupidity, I came to the following conclusions: It is reasonable and logical for it to be a difficult one for me to figure out, because this concept of leaves changing colours is so foreign to me. My life has been spent in a place where the leaves don't really change colours all that much. They turn yellow or brown on the tree because they are dead... and they stay there until the wind blows them off, which is a process that begins quickly; but it is not uncommon to see last years hangers-on when the tree is blooming the following spring. I have never really seen trees turn red. (Except in those mythical things called TV shows. But we all know they are faked anyway.) And never as a gradual movement of red from the outer edges. Leaves are green... until they are dead and then, seemingly overnight, they are yellow. And it happens so late where I'm from. We wore shirt sleeves until late October, Samhain is generally the first day that its chilly enough to wear a sweater or a lightish jacket. A SWEATER OR A LIGHTISH JACKET! I'm bundled in Stephen's heaviest coat whenever we leave the house... and sometimes while I'm in the house too. Thanksgiving is really the time for throwing yourself into piles of raked leaves, not September.

So that is my exciting news for the day... the leaves have just started their turning. My first change of season in this far far colder place. Its stunningly beautiful. Trees with red leaves. Wow. I wonder what they will look like when they are entirely red, and how long the leaves will stay on the trees before they fall. I guess I'll be finding out soon enough.

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On another, completely different note, I have a song I want to share with you all. Everyone give a great big resounding facetious 'Thank you' to Stephen for bringing home the movie that this came from, and for singing it all night last night just to listen to me giggle madly. It may be the funniest song I have heard in a long time... and I rolled on the floor laughing about it all night. It makes me think of Christie... and I can't get it out of my head. I'll be singing it to Tristan when he calls me today.

(Update: Don't try to click on the video... it is not working. And anything else I post to share it with you will just disappear soon anyway... so go HERE and type in Spider Pig ... and giggle madly.)

The Internet God...

Right off the bat... Gracie, I'm so sorry that I didn't manage to bring Stephen over to meet you and the rest of the family. There was so much to do, and there were a lot of people that I didn't get to see. It was NOT that you were not important... we just ran out of time. I'll do my best to bring him back with me as soon as I can to get to meet you too. However, since you are SUPPOSED to be coming to visit me this summer, you'll get to meet him soon. Get that passport started yet? ;)

Well, the internet is connected at the house. However, Magical Mystical Stephen has to do secretive and deeply religious things in order to let computers attach to it. And since he is officially excited about having the internet (I have already figured out that I'll never see him again, and went to bed by myself last night for him puttering. In his defense, though, I DID get extra cuddle time when he did come to bed.) I am sure that he will have it all sorted out as soon as possible. Which means more regular blogs and returned emails.

This has been the week of preparing to go to University for me. There has been many lines (we call them queues, pronounced 'cues') full of preppy accented 12 year olds. Or so they seem. They are quick to judge and content to talk about someone's shoes or who slept with whom and "Oh my GAWD! Do you SEE that guy over there! He's so bloody HAWT!" I feel very very old. I have yet to see someone that is the same age as me. I'm hoping it is better when classes start. Either that or I might have to start wearing a shaggy scarf around my neck. If I do... someone please strangle me with it.

I am currently working on my list of things I like from here and things I miss from there. I hope to post it tomorrow, but be forewarned... there will be NO people on it. It goes without saying that I miss you all, and that this would be a much better place if you all would just move too. So hurry up and do it.

Damn the Catch-Up, I'm Pushing Forward!

I was going to spend a lot of time playing catch-up with you all about all of the things that were happening, but I have come to the conclusion that I never actually will be able to catch up. So, the short version. We got back from the Grand Canyon, spent time with family, and left. First to Houston, where we spent the night with Jim and Erin, and their two lovely girls, both of whom fell in love with Stephen, then the next day on to London.

Jet lag was not bad, all things considered. Ash caught it the hardest of all of us. She was barely coherent the first day. We wandered a bit, then went to Herne Bay for dinner and a walk by the ocean. Stephen and Ashley played rough-and-tumble on the beach, while I picked up rocks and put them in Stephen's pockets. We went home about 20 pounds heavier from all of the rocks that we (meaning I) found. They are flint, which washes up onto the beach and has historically been used to build with. A lot of the very old buildings in Canterbury are made of flint. I love flint.

The weekend was catching up and getting used to the lay of the land. We walked a lot, trying to get Ashley especially comfortable with where things were. Monday was the meeting with her Headmaster. The decision was made to advance her a year into the 6th form, rather than hold her back a year. It was a good decision, since it meant there were no uniforms and she would have a lot more autonomy, which were the two things she was the most concerned about.

Tuesday we went to London to look for shoes, which was entirely unsuccessful. Doc Martin didn't have the right shoes in her size. Birkinstock didn't have any winter boots. It was still fun, though, and we met up with Stephen's mum for dinner. Ashley really likes her.

Ash started school on Wednesday, and thus far, she is liking it. She says there is a lot that is different, they treat her a lot more like an adult, and the classes go much faster. She came home with a friend, which was slightly surprising, and also embarrassing, since there really is no furniture in the house.

Stephen started his new job just this last Monday, and thus far he likes it. They have let him off pretty easy, not overwhelming him with too much to do, which I suppose is a nice thing. I have been able to walk up and have lunch with him, which is even nicer, I think.

I had a meeting with the department head yesterday, and everything is set to go. My tutors have been hand picked, as will be the school which I teach in in January. He likes me, and we apparently share a lot of the same educational philosophies... but he admitted that I am the first international student to come mid course and finish this degree. I'm a guinea pig. Exciting.

Last bit of news... we will have internet at the house in 6 days. That means I'll be able to keep better in touch with all of you. You are missed!

Finally... An Update!

I hear you out there in ReaderLand… “Where the heck ARE you?!” So much has happened, and for one reason or another (currently because of lack of internet) we have been unable to update. So this is THE BIG UPDATE. I’ll pick up where we left off.

After two wonderful days in the Gila, we were off to the Grand Canyon. The drive there was hellacious, tedious, and long. We finally got to Flagstaff after dark, and decided to stay there rather than finish the additional hour and a half drive to the Canyon. However, after calling and being told that they would charge us for the room anyway, we decided to bite the bullet and finish the trip.

Stephen had had so many questions about the elusive elk since eating a bit of one, and he was a bit excited about seeing signs indicating that there were elk in the area. About 45 minutes into the trip through the ‘forest’ of juniper, I slammed on the brakes, scaring the elk away (of course) before Stephen had a chance to see it. It was a doe, so not nearly as large as a buck, but still impressive. Saddened, we drove on, this time with Stephen peering out of the window, determined. 15 minutes later I screeched to a halt again and he got to see the back side of another doe. 10 minutes after that, HE was the first to spot one, and rather than screeching to a half I slowed and backed up. He excitedly took pic after pic in the dark of yet another doe. They were the best pictures of the dark we had the entire trip. What a shame there was nothing else in them but the dark.

After a night outside the canyon, we drove into the little town of Tusayon. Explored a bit, checked into our hotel, and hit the canyon. It was far more impressive than either of us expected. And actually, words can’t really describe the experience of standing on the rim and looking into the depths of the canyon.

However, I can unequivocally say… I LOVE SCOPAOLOMINE PATCHES! Because of the patch, I am not typing about how I stood on the rim of the Grand Canyon and puked my guts out or fell in because of the vertigo and accompanying motion sickness. Instead, I get to say that I sat on a little ledge that hung out over the cliffs and swung my feet over the canyon. I leaned over the edge and breathed in the air. I listened to the swish of the ravens sailing over the open expanses, and I loved it. I was comfortable enough to get closer than Stephen.

Day two of the Canyon involved a very turbulent airplane tour (yay scopalomine!), followed by a trip into Antelope Canyon, a very famous slot canyon. It was lovely, and I had a lot of fun tracing the layers in the walls of the canyon. Some nice pics too. Then a trip through a 2 mile tunnel, and a 4 hour boat trip along the Colorado River. It was wonderful fun, though at the end Stephen and I both wished that we had done a white water trip too. Perhaps next time. The end of our day was a 4 hour bus ride back to our hotel. We had conversation with a lady from central Texas who asked us if we were newlyweds… to which we had to say no. It was slightly amusing to listen to her try to figure out exactly WHAT we were… but she finally defeated our close-mouthedness by flat out asking if we were “In love”, to which we had to say yes. (As if THAT were a chore.)

Leaving the Canyon, we stopped at City of Rocks, and I REALLY wanted to stop at the petrified forest, but we just didn’t have time. We had a date in Albuquerque. And we made it, in 6 hours. Just because it took another hour to make it the last 5 miles because of rush hour traffic means nothing. We visited an old friend of Stephens in Old Town, got some shopping done, then met up with Paula and Aaron at Paula’s studio.

There is a funny story here. Or at least funny to you, perhaps. I had directions to the studio, which were on a quiet street. There was noone around, so I wasn’t really paying attention to the road, only to trying to figure out which of these buildings looked like a warehouse with an art studio in. (They ALL did!) Anyway, I find it, start to turn, and get a HONK!HONK! I had cut someone off! I felt terrible...

…but not as terrible as I felt when I realised that the person I had cut off was Paula! We both laughed about it in the end, but I still blush to think about it. (I’m sorry, Paula!) I hope I made up for it; Stephen and I bought a painting (Which I still haven’t been able to get online to pay for!) and dinner was lovely. When the night ended we didn’t want to leave.

Next morning, breakfast with Andre and Andrea, then a long trip home, picking up Tristan and Ashley on the way. By the time we got home, the car was so packed that there were things at everyone’s feet, crammed into as many small spaces as we could find. We, however, were glad to be home, and glad to be done with the incessant travelling.

To be continued…

The Big Day...

Good Morning!

Today I woke up in bed at Mom's house. Lovely breakfast of German pastries and tea. Time is passing slowly before airport craziness. Stephen arrives at 10:20 tonight. The clock is tick-tocking so slowly. I think it is delighting in tormenting me. Damn clock.

I suppose you want to know all the things that happened before this point...

On Monday, around 4 in the afternoon, the new moving company called me. They are a local company, and the lady I have been talking to (Julie... she who lets me vent and goes out of her way to make this a good experience for me, might have to name a child after her or something...) called me with good news and bad news. The good news: they had a cancellation for the next day, did I want it. YES!!! The bad news: they needed my passport in order to begin transporting my goods. My passport is currently in the British consulate in Las Angeles. ETA: Monday next. Oh well.

The result of the phone call was that I stayed up all night Tuesday night to get ready for the movers... and I half expected them not to show. But they did, bright and early. They were wonderful! Friendly, very careful with my things, I worked with the mother of one of the packers. We talked about books and the Rosetta Stone, and I bought them lunch. They finished up about 2:30. News on the moving front, with a half case, the estimate for moving went up to $5,200, not including insurance and port fees. But Julie was on the case, trying to find a way around it. Then it was last minute car packing, some books to Christine, and the trip to EL Paso, dinner with Mom, then a trip to my Mothers to drop off art and boxes. THEN, sleep. Not really good sleep - lots of nightmares about spiders. I consoled myself with the thought that I don't have to sleep alone anymore.

Did I mention that Julie is AWESOME? She called as I was writing this blog. They eliminated the half full case, and downsized it. She had a final total for me......

Wait for it.....

$4,488. Which includes all the insurance and port fees. The only thing it doesn't include is the cost to carry items up stairs, which should come out to less than $400. Yay! That is almost a thousand dollars less than I expected. Plus, she told me that I could just give them my full name and SSN and they would start the move without a copy of my passport. So it's official: my stuff is on its way to the UK. We will have furniture.

So today is full. Tune up for the car, finish at the old house, trip to the bank to pay for the move. Lovely. Pick Stephen up, lots of kisses, Chico's Tacos for dinner. Right this minute he is over the Atlantic Ocean. He arrives in Newark in about 2 hours. I wonder: did I sleep so poorly for being a bit nervous? Did he sleep poorly too?

Maybe a nap would help.

The Redcoats Are Coming! The Red... Wait, I Mean the Movers...

The Redcoat... I mean Stephen... arrives Wednesday night. I just spoke to him for the last time before I see him. Today is his last day of work at his old job, and last night was his last night sleeping in his old room. Tonight he heads to London to stay at his mum's to be closer to the airport the following morning.

And Tomorrow... THE MOVERS ARE COMING!!! They had an unexpected opening and they just so happened to squeeze me in. I got the call this afternoon... which means I have been running like a chicken sans head to get everything ready. I'm taking a break to post because I promised Dan there would be one tonight.

Its just SO busy. I hope to be able to take time to catch everyone up on Yard Sale Drama and the shocking British Consulate Secret... but it will have to wait. (HAHAHA! cliff hanger!)

to be continued...

These are the Days of Our Lives...

It has been 7 days since I last posted. I am now 1 year older than I was then. Stephen stayed up late so he could sing happy birthday to me the instant it was the morning of my birthday in England. He also called me his 'birthday beauty'. It is lovely to hear. His perfect gift to me: an Aloe Vera plant for our new house. He could not be any sweeter if he were made of honey.

7 days has found a lot of things happening. As of Tuesday, the moving company with which I have been working has decided that they are not capable of moving me or any of my things. That left Wednesday full of a desperate scramble to find another moving company, and to study for the final in my Spanish class, which I took this morning.

I have accepted the quote of a different moving company. This one is local here, and will be handling all aspects of the move overseas. The lady is SO nice, to the point of even letting me vent about the terribleness of the old moving company. Plus, she calls me back. Part of me wants to tell her that I love her. Except that it would just be the relief talking.

It turns out that this company has the possibility of being less expensive (yay!) and they are coming to evaluate a much more exact quote tomorrow morning. They have already scheduled to come and pack and load on the 21st of August. Stephen and I will be gone then, but THANK YOU!!!!! to Christie and Dan for being willing to be there in our stead. Things will be in good hands.

I'm still waiting to hear about Visas... but that should be soon. I start on the rest of the house today, need to have a last minute yard sale (anyone want to help?) maybe this weekend, have everything else done in the house by Wednesday when I pick Stephen up at the airport.

In only 6 days, we will be having Chico's Tacos for dinner, and all will be right with the world.

In the English neck of the woods, Stephen has been very busy moving from house to house. (He told me yesterday that he is totally capable of taking over my closet in addition to his own.) He packs bags and carries them, three a night or so. I admire his decision to walk things from place to place. Wish I could do it with the rest of our things. It might actually get done in a timely manner were I to. This weekend, he moves his bed and other big things, and I suppose it will be the pseudo-official move in time.

It is interesting to me how the ball keeps rolling even though it feels like nothing gets done. No matter how overwhelmed or stressed out I get, time passes. I'm glad.

Kind of Sad News...

I received an email from the University today. I was expecting it sooner rather than later, as the scholarship decision was to be made by the end of July.

I didn't get it.

I'm a little sad, but its ok. I have to keep in mind that I did my best, that my essay really did not suck at all, and that I had no way to know what it was they were looking for. I didn't beg for money. I didn't grovel. I just wrote the best possible essay I could. I have reason to be proud.

I can always try again next year, and I will. But I still won't grovel or beg.

Tristan has started expressing his sadness at our moving. He will miss me, he says, and I know I'll miss him. I have to drop what I'm doing every now and again and just hold him. I feel like I need to breathe deeply of him so I can remember his smell, hold him so very tight so I can remember what he feels like in my arms. I'm excited, and yet so sad at the same time. It feels like my heart is being ripped apart. I cry too often, and sometimes I don't even realise that I'm crying until the tears are silently dripping off of my nose. This is hard. I remind myself that I'm doing the right thing.

No news on movers yet - no dates scheduled. I have moved past anything productive into impotent, temper-tantrum rage.

On a brighter note, Stephen will be here in 13 days! There's a spot in his arms with my name on it. Maybe then it will be easier to let everything out, because I won't be alone in my house of disarray.

Which do you Want First?

Bad News: I'm sick. Pathetic, whiney, curl up in a ball, hot then cold then hot then cold, all I want to do is sleep, want to be held sick. I cried twice today for no appreciable reason. Stephen lay on his bed and pretended to curl around me so I could close my eyes and pretend that I was lying there so I wouldn't be so pathetic. I don't know how he puts up with me. Sometimes it amazes me how good he is to me. I don't think I would be nearly as good to myself.

Bad News: Movers suck. We are now at 7 days late, and they still do not have any idea when anyone will be here. @!*#'s.

Good News: We have a house! That's right, Stephen has the keys to our lovely flat in his hot little hands. It takes a huge load off to know that there is some place for us to live. 2 bedrooms, plus a funkily shaped study, a kitchen with a refrigerator that is bigger than a breadbox, and a washer/ dryer. Heaven. It's on the third floor (To us Americans, that means the fourth floor, but I am learning Brit speak now.) It's close to the train that Stephen no longer has to take to work, and is about a mile away from Ashley's school, my school, and Stephen's new work. Walking distance. His mum is already bringing us furniture. She is lovely. I can't wait to meet her.

Additional things of note: Applied for Visas yesterday. Confirmed that the British Consulate received my package of important documents. Reserved rooms at the Grand Canyon for mine and Stephen's mini vacation. After visiting 4 pharmacies, found the important condiment for the important prescription. Had horrid photos taken for the visas. But on a happier note, Kelley sent me a photo that doesn't suck. I think I'll share.

Insert Expletive Here...

This has been an ongoing thing since the last post. And I am almost too angry to even write about it.

I just had to go beg and plead to have my move out date rescheduled. I now owe an additional month's rent, and must interrupt my precious pre-leaving the country family time in order to go and check out of my house. Why? Why, you ask?

Because the bleeping movers need at least an additional 10 days in order to simply schedule me! Not only this, but they can't guarantee that 10 days will be enough. They won't even guarantee that they will come and move me EVER!!!

I'm just so mad. madmadmadmadmad. GRRRR!!!!!

I have no idea when they will move me. And now I'm spending additional money because they can't get their act together. And I suppose it should be ok, since money grows on trees and all...

My goal: the additional I have to pay to stay here had better come out of what I have to pay them. I'll be calling supervisors today.

The Problem with Invisible Movers...

Last week I had a bit of a mid-week melt down. I was re-reading emails from the moving company, just to make sure I wasn't missing anything, as I seem to be obsessive about doing lately. And in it, I read that I was supposed to receive a call from this one particular guy in charge of scheduling the time for the move. I hadn't gotten a call yet! Had I missed it? Was I FALLING BEHIND?!?!?! So I fretted about it for about 30 minutes, until Stephen finally got fed up with it and told me to just knock it off and call them already. So I did. The conversation consisted of the following:

Amy: (panic filled voice complete with bulging hysteria eyes) Blahblahblah have I missed it did I screw up when when ARGH!!!

MoverGuy: (quiet calm soothing voice complete with aromatherapy) Relax. I won't set a date until Friday, and I will call you on Friday and let you know.

Amy: (still panic, but muffled) Oh, ok. I guess I will talk to you Friday then. (But in her head she is THINKING "oh no now he thinks I'm obsessive compulsive and he will think I am being too strange and will not want to work with me ARGH!!!" and on and on.)

So time passes and Friday comes and I almost sit by the phone, waiting for MoverGuy to call until Kelley comes into town which I forgot about and then it is 6 pm and I realise that he never called.

I fume for the weekend. How dare he think me obsessive compulsive! How dare he when it is not him moving to England, packing up an entire house and having to choose what to take and what stays, it's just HIS job, who the heck does he think he is anyway?

So Monday I call. No answer. I leave a message and then I manage to wait an hour and call again. No answer. Message. The third time I get someone, they put me on hold, then MoverGuy gets on the phone.

Amy: (semblance of calm hiding panic) I really just need to know what time you all will be here tomorrow because it is tomorrow and I don't know what time you will be here tomorrow...

MoverGuy: We have been trying to get ahold of you all week. We won't be there tomorrow. We haven't scheduled you yet.

Amy: (all semblance of calm shattered into a bazillion pieces) WHAT?!?!?!?! But I have to be out of my house and... *sputter sputter*

MoverGuy: Let me call you back today and we will schedule you.

So I wait... and at 4:30 call them back. He needs 20 more minutes and he SWEARS he will call me back. He does, 45 minutes later. To tell me that he will call me in the morning because he can't schedule me.

ARGH!!!

So I am NOT moving today. I have NO IDEA when I am moving. I have to be moved OUT of my house by Monday next, and I have NO IDEA when I am moving.

Why does 8 seconds on a bull seem like a lifetime? I'm holding on by the skin of my teeth but it just doesn't seem to help. Breathe, breathe. Ohm. Ohm. Ohm.

Is it Just Me, or is This a Cruddy Update?

So much...

1. Unconditional acceptance letter arrived from the University today. That means that I can FINALLY apply for visas.

2. Loan signing happening tomorrow, but I can't be sure about the time because my daddy left his phone! So I can't call him.

3. Tristan is now officially 6 years old. Happy Birthday to my sweet Sunshine baby.

4. Tuesday the movers come. Tomorrow Chris, Pat, Ashley, and I go crazy with trying to put everything that goes into 1 room. I have always wondered what my couch would look like in the kitchen. I'll find out, because it is one of the things that is NOT going, and the kitchen is the official not going place.

5. I'm sick. Some sort of face throbbing, sniffly nose, hack hack cough cough, sore throat from too much nasal drainage thing going on. It sucks; I am too busy to take time to rest in order to get better. I'm prolly sick now for exactly that reason: I am stressed.

6. As of Tuesday, all animals are gone. Chanco found a lovely home with Kamy, Daddy has taken Donis, and has asked for Muriel too. Trudy is going back to Dar's. It will be a lonely house without animal company. Noone to drive away the nightmares. (Not that they did a very good job of that before anyway)

7. Still not enough news on house stuff to post - are all of you waiting with bated breath? Is it torment, keeping you up at night to not know? Oh well. Wait you will.

8. That prescription that I was stressed about getting filled? Done. The clothing that needed sorted? Done. Yay.

That's it for now... I will definitely keep you posted as things happen. I'm ready to not be stressed over this whole thing anymore. REALLY ready.

¡Mí Principe está el Rey!

Stephen's interview was today.

He totally rocked, of course. As a matter of fact, he rocked to the point that they called him back today and offered him a job. Which he has accepted!

I am so proud.

He was really very nervous. We had stayed up working on his powerpoint presentation for three days. He researched, and had a great resources list. His speech was well written, clear, and concise... plus fun. Anecdotes and pun-ny jokes. I'm not biased at all, am I?

He texted me during class, causing an Amy to scamper and run full tilt down the University corridor to get to the commons so she could talk, and we ended up calling each other and talking on the phone for a few minutes, which was very well worth the bit that it cost to call international.

PLUS I actually got a lot done on the house in preparation for the move, so I am feeling a lot less stressed. There is news on the house front, too. But that will wait until there is a bit more. Consider this your teaser.

Angst Angst Angst...

I can tell it is crunch time, all the way around.

We are stressed. Beyond stressed, even. So far beyond simply stressed that an FTL drive couldn't get us back in a reasonable amount of time.

Ashley's response to stress: sleep. Lots. And I'm jealous of the fact that she can sleep until 5 pm, so I don't wake her up. I let her sleep off her stress, so at least one of us can feel less of it.

Stephen and I, on the other hand, seem to be basking in the glow of stress. Time limits and things not going exactly as planned, deadlines that approach far too fast, and things that are tossed up into the air and never exactly seem to come back down; all of them dump their little stress-straws onto our backs and all of a sudden, we both feel slightly camel-ish.

There are so many repercussions of this stress cocktail. Physically, we are both worn out. I find my volume goes up and up, until Stephen stops me, tells me to breathe deeply, then tells me to stop yelling at him. Thank goodness he knows that I am not 'yelling at him', only struggling with volume control. Hormones (gotta love that cortisol) dumped into blood streams and make me feel like I am in eternal PMS, and I am blessed with everything that goes with it. Tears would be so nice, but I have no reason to cry. I wonder if Stephen regrets my female-ness yet. And then there is this wierd red splotch on my eyelid that just won't go away.

It is a total of 8 days until the movers come. The house is a hurricane; I stack things in one place or another only to be unsure about what is stacked where. So much travel: Las Vegas for Wedding Wonderlands, and then a great trip to see Gramy, but the travel wears me out. Kids pick up on stress. Clothes to be packed, birthdays coming up, familial drama, muddles and muck, am I really out of freaking trash bags?

Then 1 week to clean out the entire house. Yard sale (yuck), Salvation Army, scrub-a-dub-dub. Homelessness sleeping on a friends couch. No stability. I'm grateful, I'm grateful, Ohm, Ohm, Ohm.

Not to mention other things. I have a presentation (1/2 my grade) in class tomorrow, Stephen has a big job interview on Wednesday, and so many things to avoid forgetting (Medical records! Dental records! Forward the mail! Last minute doctors appointments! Did I fill that very important prescription yet! FOR CRYING OUT LOUD WHERE ARE THE TRASH BAGS?!?!)

It is 29 days until Stephen arrives. 2 weeks until the other side of Crunch Mountain. And I haven't even received what I need to start the application for the visas.

I just have to hold on... rides are made for their thrill right?
(But I don't like rides... and did I remember my scopalomine patch?)
TOO LATE! HERE WE GO!

That's my Scholarship Story... (and I'm Sticking to it)

The University that I will be attending offers 12 scholarships to reduce tuition by almost half. That is a huge reduction, and would make paying for school so much less difficult in year 2. (Original tuition=about ₤8,000. Tuition with scholarship= ₤5,000.) Especially with the dollar so weak lately, that is a whole lot of money.

The requirement for this competitive scholarship was a 600 word essay. First of all, a 600 word ANYTHING is difficult for me, as in I am so verbose. (verbose=Amy can't ever stop talking.) So I knew that is was going to be a little tough. To top it off, in 600 words they wanted to know WHY them, WHY the degree that I am going for, ABOUT me, and my FUTURE plans. That is a lot to cover, especially since I also have to throw in the gratuitous, please-give-me-money-I'm-a-poor-broke-college-student-with-kids-wah! bit.

I didn't put it off to the last minute (yay me!) and worked on it quite a bit. I am proud with what I came up with in the end. And I thought you might like me to share it with you all too. So, here it is, all 568 (including citation) words of it.

“Why I should be one of the twelve to receive a scholarship.”

I am a 32 year old, non-traditional, returning student with a family, raised on the border between the United States and Mexico by a Scotch-Irish, Anglican family. My culture is a blend of many countries. I have been professionally teaching for 9 years without a degree, and my qualifications have been consistently seen as lesser based on the fact that I have not yet completed a Bachelor’s Degree. I am a driven and motivated teacher working actively towards my goals in higher education. I am also an honours student, with a current Grade Point Average of 3.812, out of a 4.0.

Teaching is my passion and life’s work. For 13 years, I have worked with learners from birth through adulthood, in general education and special needs classrooms, in both traditional and non-traditional settings. I believe in the sanctity of education as a universal human right and as a method for human advancement. I believe education is the key to social change.

Through my teaching experience and studies, I have learned that both American and British schools are ripe for change in classrooms and pedagogy. Educational research has shown us more about the workings of young minds and their capability to learn; and we have a greater understanding of practices that best enable learning than we have ever had before. Learning to learn is now seen as a skill that is vital to a student’s life achievement.

Furthermore, through the Internet, our world has become larger in perspective than ever before. Our children no longer think in terms of their city, or even their country: we live in a truly global society. Teaching requires an understanding of this global and technological perspective, and I feel optimally primed to meet that challenge. I have successfully blended technology and multimedia into my methods. I am of three cultures, immigrating into a fourth. I understand bias and discrimination from both sides. I have experienced societal integration and second language immersion. I am a product of my own culture, which cannot be bound by borders.

I chose this university for multiple reasons. England is considered to be cutting edge in its educational praxis. This University is recognised by the Times Online to be one of the top 20 Universities in the field of education in the United Kingdom. ¹ It is also a multi-cultural University, apparent in both its setting and its student body. The city is a city of many languages: being so close to France, and with so many students from other countries, this multilinguicity is also a part of the University campus. In the end, my choice was easy. This University is the best University in the best city for me to attain my Bachelor’s Degree in Education.

Following completion of my Bachelor’s programme, I intend to continue on with my education, by seeking first a Master’s, then a Doctorate Degree in fields of Multi-Cultural Education, Critical Pedagogy, and Social Justice. I envision myself staying in England, moving to the forefront of educational research, and using my cross-cultural perspective to create environments of shared learning in which pre-service teachers can learn in hands-on settings. I feel I have much to offer, and a scholarship would ease the burden of being an international student.

¹The Times Online (27 May, 2005) Full Subject Tables, Education. [Online] Available from:

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/education/good_university_guide/article526747.ece

further, http://www.timesonline.co.uk/displayPopup/0,,13407,00.html [Accessed 12^th July, 2007].

Sir Stephen and the Quest for the New Job...

Stephen is a computer god. Don't let him tell you different.

Right now he works for a University that is a bit away from where he lives, requiring a train into work every day. And while he isn't seriously underpaid, he has shown me similar jobs to his that earn significantly more than he does. One of them is at another University that is much closer to home.

This is the second time that jobs like his have been posted. Both times he has put in an application for the job... but this time they called him to interview. He will have to do a 10 minute presentation, have an interview, and take a tour on the same day. Wednesday, July 18.

He doesn't seem all that excited about having to do a 10 minute presentation. I am very excited for him, enough for the both of us. (Perhaps I'm excited because I am not the one having to GIVE the presentation... but then again I dig that sort of stuff.) If he ends up getting this job, it means far less travel time, more pay, and perhaps other happy sorts of things.

Now if I could just get him to stop telling Ashley to slap the cat, things would be good.

Calculitis...

Grades from the first Summer Session posted yesterday.

You might remember that I took Calculus. It was my last math class in the States, which was a little emotional for me. I love math. Turns out that I really love calculus. It has been my favourite math class thus far.

Anyway, back to grades. I expected to get a B in the class, as I had high B's on the midterms, and all of my quizzes were 18, 19 or 20 out of 20. But the final, I had no idea. There was one problem that I really ended up struggling with. So I figured a B was a safe bet.

I got an A.

Stephen called me his... well, lets just say it was a sweet term of endearment involving me and calculus and a word not appropriate for younger viewers, but expressing his opinion of my physical appearance.

Viva Las Vegas - or not.

The drive was long.

There were pretty rocks. Really, really pretty groovey sedimentary, calcite based rocks. Rocks that Amy really wants to go climb on and study.

We drove through Flagstaff, so now I know where to go when Stephen and I go to the Grand Canyon.

I managed one decent sketch in the car before feeling like I was going to puke my guts out of the window. Damn motion sickness.

Took 2 hours to find a room, spent the weekend on a total of 9 hours of sleep since Friday, but the weddings were nice, and spending time with great friends was worth it. I, however, hate Las Vegas. It is all glitz and money and glam and shallowness and suck-you-in greed. I didn't waste 1 penny on gambling.

Thank god that Dar went with me. I really think that I would have pushed myself so hard that I would have had an accident and died.


Lesson learned: the Pythagorean theorem is truth. The hypotenuse of a right triangle is a shorter distance than the sum of the other two sides. And that means it is quicker to drive the hypotenuse rather than the sides of said triangle. We KNOW this. It saved us 2 hours coming home.

Ashley is home, too, and Grace here also. We were so excited that we stayed up far too late. Now working on a total of 11 hours of sleep since Friday.

Who needs sleep? (No, you're never gonna get it.)
Who needs sleep? (Tell me what's that for?)
Who needs sleep? (Be happy with what you're getting: there's a guy whose been awake since the Second World War...)
-Barenaked Ladies