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Sunday, September 23, 2007

Golden September

I began writing an entry on September the 11th when a moment of quiet time interceded to talk about the life cycle of my basic existence starting up again--the beginning of school's start following Labor Day weekend. Then, suddenly, life interceded and a moment didn't clearly present itself until Keith left for a bookbinding course this afternoon.

The last two weeks of August started out pretty promising, or so I thought. My car was being sold, I was going to a wedding Aug. 31-Sept. 1, we were celebrating 2 years of marriage and 7 years of general togetherness on Sept. 3...however, since the start up of busy days and times have been frequently migraine inducing more workdays then I care to think.

It all started the last week of August when I was told I was going to have a third faculty member after all. Rather, a fourth, but Laura is in Georgia and barely asks me for anything (although the potential remains for her to give me work--making me a bit uneasy). My new faculty member is a former OB Unit member, who left in the mid-1990s to start a business. 

Then, on the weekend we were in Easton, Penn. for Leslie & Jonathan's wedding the buyer for our car backed out. Being that this was the first car our buyer's family had ever have (the mother of the family not having a driver's license herself) I think the shock of the costs of insuring a 18 year-old Massachusetts driver hit hard. Still, Keith and I were immensely annoyed because we had sensed earlier that week that "something was up" and things were stalling unnecessarily. In the meantime, of course, we'd turned down over 10 individuals interested in seeing the car. So, we re-posted the car, got a few other interested parties fairly quickly, and after two viewings sold our car to a family in the South Shore area with two 16 year old girls who need a car to get back and forth from school and to go to after school events. We closed the deal on September 11th, a couple days before the family was to celebrate the Jewish New Year. So that was good to see the car ultimately went to students who would have some of the same memories I had, with professional parents who would see that the car would be treated well.

Almost two weeks later do I miss the car! Last weekend we took the time to go errand running and there was a definite urgency--less of an ability to window shop, take time for copious price comparing. Going shopping now must be conducted with a battle plan in mind--lists, review of the circulars, and a reasonable time objective to get in, shop, and get out. We're feeling the pain of no car when little errands crop up that need to be done, but we wait for them to stack up so that we're not renting a ZipCar constantly (since there's a 1 hour minimum). With a little time, and once my paychecks are no longer deducted for car insurance (and we get a handy check back--since we're still waiting for the Mass RMV to cancel our registration) and we're not writing out a $130 check come October 1, maybe I'll start to miss the car a little less.

Beyond that, life has been busy for other nondescript reasons that I can't put my finger on. I can't speak to any other major events and accomplishments of the last month--I feel like I'm just going to work, the days are jam packed, then I go home, feel utterly exhausted, get up, go to work...

At work, we've had some events. I came back to work on September 4th to find out that one of my quad mates, Barbara, had a son who died on August 30th, although his body was found in the woods near her home August 31st. Sadly, her son lost his life to a relapse into drug use, which turned out to be fatal--his first drug lapse of a year turned out to be too much, his heart probably seized during a walk, and he died. After hearing about Barbara's plight, I made the decision, somewhat nervously, to drive down with the car I still owned to Weymouth to at least deliver some catered food from Restaurant Associates and my condolences. Turned out that my visit, although Barbara herself wasn't sure she was ready to "see people" was the exact right thing to do and the right thing Barbara needed. The following day, Keith and I attended the son's wake, and this past week procured flowers and I baked muffins for the floor to celebrate Barbara's return. Its hard for her to come back and tackle 2.5 weeks of work and think about her son who always called her at her desk. We had a heart-to-heart about this Friday while I caught her up on other intrigues (read further on) related to our workplace. I feel confident that with time, as a routine is resumed, that hopefully some feelings of normalcy will resume. However, there is nothing anyone can say to someone who has lost a child--nothing will take the pain away completely. All anyone can do is just listen and try to understand as best as possible on the bad days.

I finally had it out with a quadmate who has been getting on everyone's nerves (quad, Unit, and other HBS staffers, some faculty, and a post-doc fellow) a few weeks ago. What I said just had to be said--I'm glad I finally snapped and spoke before the rational more ladylike part of my brain could talk me out of it. Since the assistant director for faculty support staffing was on vacation, the coordinator and HR finally had to have a "big chat" with her. I understand that they made it clear that I was not the "fall girl" but that the complaints had been coming from all over (and believe me, they have). We spoke just over a week ago and her behavior has been good, but its still questionable how genuine it is. For example, despite all her expressed concern to faculty members about Barbara's loss, I know she never sent a note of condolence.  I guess we'll see. If she behaves herself because she's on notice, that's better than her not behaving at all. Finally, Jane, Barbara, and I feel like we can express ourselves cordially to one another without being shot "The Look", getting a loud "Ah hem," or having her bang her desk or foot stomp. I never mentioned it in blogs before (or really in conversation with many other people) because frankly, I have better things to blog about. Dealing with her was exhausting, so the last thing I want to do is write about it.

The weather has been so particularly beautiful. The quality of the sunlight and the soft warmth of most September days (although there have been some steamy 80-85 degree days) went largely unnoticed until adulthood. Perhaps this is because all of my life from age 5 to 22 was spent thinking about going back to school during this time of the year--now that life is consistently work Monday through Friday and is general in constant, it makes it easier to see other qualities in the world.

I'm going to be traveling a lot soon. A few weeks ago I was asked to represent the F&M Alumni Board in Boston at a board meeting to be represented by all national chapters. So F&M is paying the costs of me flying into Harrisburg International to attend a lot of meetings, take some tours, and basically treat my in-laws like a hotel and car rental service.

Then the following weekend, I'm spending my birthday (October 3rd) night in an airport flying into Pittsburgh. Then, we're spending the 4th with my grandparents, and Sunday evening with them as well, since they'll be leaving Friday morning to Sunday morning to be with my uncle down east. That'll give me Saturday and Sunday and Monday morning to hang with Mom. After having choice words for both of my brothers, I doubt I'll see either (don't even get me started).

My being a liberal sometimes has a lot to do with often being for government regulation. I personally don't think the rules are really for my benefit because I don't need a brain implant because I can follow basic rules such as following traffic signals, not vandalizing property, and generally being a considerate human being. I don't understand people though (especially in light of how people act around Barbara after her son dying) in that they can't do basic human being things without being told. If rules are what it takes to get people to behave, I'd rather have the rules than none at all. Sure, people still break laws--but not without fear of the consequences and for those who are caught, punishment.

At any point, I'm rambling now and I need to eat. More blogs coming soon (ok, well I hope) on other things besides the stresses of my life.

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Thursday, August 23, 2007

Car for Sale


I'm in a "write-y" sort of mood today, but life is pretty slow to say the least. Still summer, although much cooler (thank you Jesus!), quiet weekend (also very good), quiet at work. I feel like I am just biding my time until Labor Day weekend.

So, what to write about?

I put my car up for sale this past weekend and as of 20 minutes ago got the firm go-ahead from a fellow Harvard employee that they will buy the car for $4940. I should be happy since I estimate that this will free up probably $300+ a month that currently goes for insurance, gas, parking, and maintenance for maybe $100 a month in Zipcar fees...but, I'm sad because I'm selling off my history. It was a fleeting and actually happy thought this morning that--"maybe it'll fall though or maybe no one will want it after all." But now I realize that the car will be gone as of Labor Day weekend and I'm nervous about being car-less for the first time in seven years.

The Focus was my first car I ever owned--my first new car. It is the third car I drove that I had a claim of over ownership over--my first, a 95 Chevy Cavalier purchased shortly before my 17th birthday by my parents in August 1997 (which met its sad end in an auto collision courtesy of a reckless driver ramming into me in June 1998), a Ford Escort that I shared very briefly with Steven upon my return home from Sweden in 1999 (when I was home from college). Then, it was this car, purchased May 19, 2000.

I remember...

talking to my parents in their bedroom when they called me to discuss my buying the car...picking it out between a red sedan and a red hatchback after a gold-colored one fell through...picking it up...my first real drive with my brothers and mom in the back seat going to Altoona...running the first errands after a mere one week of ownership in it where an errant gallon of orange juice exploded behind my seat on the floor--leaving the carpet sort of citrus-y and crispy ever since...my first out-of-state driving trip going solo to see my then-boyfriend in Connecticut despite my mother's objections...denting it a mere two months of ownership with a hitch from a Mack truck and being co-conspirers with my mother to hide the damage from my Dad until the bumper could be fixed...showing it off at college (when the Focus was a brand new model--hopefully to revitalize the Ford brand)...going to college back and forth moving out of multiple dorm rooms...moving into summer apartments and to/from my Nonni's place...digging it out of 6 feet of snow the Winter of 2003 with F&M grounds running a bobcat...going to summer classes and work in West Chester.

Driving back and forth over summers 2002 and 2003 to see Keith in Lancaster. Driving it up spring break March 2003 to Boston to see the town I would call home that I had never seen before. Getting the title and the car fully paid off right after college graduation. Driving it back and forth for family visits and holidays, back and forth for wedding planning, cramming myself into the front passengers seat in a wedding gown on my wedding day, going home with all our wedding loot piled in and my wedding gown and bouquet on top, road trips, weekend weddings, moving to and from new apartments, going to job interviews, crazy Boston driving and New England sightseeing, the ever-constant Costco runs, and now, it'll be gone...and I can't wrap my brain around it really.

When I got the bright idea to sell the car, I didn't consider how I was selling a piece of my history that has carried me through so many milestones. I didn't consider how many of my best memories, even those that seemed unimportant and not poignant, are attached to the car. And so, a little bit of my heart is breaking even though I keep logically telling myself to get real. "It's just a car!" I tell myself. I feel like a mental case inside.

Sure, I could pull out and not sell the car, but that would be stupid at best. The car is in excellent condition, 7 years old with 75,000 miles. Its going to a family who will have this car as their very first. The mom doesn't even have a driver's license. The son in the family is commuting back and forth to Bentley College. So the car will lead a second life taking someone to college, on dates, on adventures, provided its well cared for. When they saw it Tuesday night and exclaimed over it how well it looked for the price we want, I almost thought that I should say--"I changed my mind," throw Keith in, jump in, and drive off.

Everyone else as been shady who messages me. I'm getting every single wacko in the world e-mailing me with messages like:

"I see car and want car. I but need car right now this week. I pay cash." After a few of these e-mails with shady bits about wanting my address, and paying cash (who carries 5K around?) and needing it this second I had to wonder if my car would be used to smuggle bodies or drugs or something after Keith and I were held up at gunpoint for the car. While I never considered it at the time, I know that not just "anyone" was going to take MY car. It had to go to someone that would take care of it like I did, preferably a college student again.

Ironically, in my advice column reading which is a regular habit of the day, some readers recently have been writing into to talk about memories with their cars. I thought they were all crazies as they talked lovingly about their old jalopies. I guess I'm nuts too.

There will be other cars--the car that Keith and I buy as a married couple, the car that brings our babies home from the hospital, the car that takes them to day care, soccer practice, play dates, family vacations...the car that drives them to college eventually. I'll probably feel little pangs as I sell those as well because I'm a nut like that. Its just a little too much and more than ironic that I will lose my first real car and my first home all in the matter of months.

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