- Secured an apartment (thank you, Martina Sebeg and Century 21 in France)
- Secured necessary insurance for apartment (who knew?)
- Bought a mobile phone (if you want my number, send me a note)
- Received the box I sent to Priscilla for me from the US (hey, you never know if it will make it!)
- Bought a pillow and pillow case (decided in furnished apartment, this would be a necessity)
- Opened bank account (thank you, M. Orsini and HSBC France)
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Progress on the Other List - Updated 3/9
So, as those who know me well have observed, a good list is worth it's weight in gold for its ability to calm the nerves and get oneself organized. Organizer extraordinaire that I am, here, for the record, is how I am doing with the list entitled: Settling Down in France.
A Swim in the Mediterranean
Saturday morning was the chosen day for my first swim in the Mediterranean. Actually, I doubt it was my first time in this particular sea, because I’m sure that previous swimming experiences in Greece and Croatia qualify as having been in the Mediterranean. I got up early, put on my black one piece bathing suit, my black running shorts and my grey Capitol Hill Classic 10K t-shirt, put a towel in a plastic bag, and by 8 a.m. was headed down the hill to the beach. When I write that I was heading down the hill, that’s exactly what I am doing – the location where I am staying is on a significant grade, such that even I am deciding to walk up the final 50 meters to the apartment after a 30 minute run – this, from a woman that enjoys running up hills!
Suffice to say that my muscles are getting a workout these days. The 15 minute walk down to the beach was quiet and fairly quick. The Promenade des Anglais was already active with runners and joggers and bikers on their Saturday morning workout. The sun was fairly high in the sky even at 8:15 in the morning, and there was a smattering of a crowd on the beach. I walked down to one of the public, supervised sections, across the surface of small (and large) smooth grey stones, to find a spot close to the water. Those already on the beach were set up along the water line – largely older citizens, with umbrellas and chairs, greeting one another with kisses as they set up their seats and settled down for the morning. The water was not crowded at this hour, and after taking off my shorts and shirt and sandals, and setting down my towel, I headed toward the sea.
Ouch! Man, I have not done any walking around in bare feet this summer! I was extremely unsteady on my feet as I tried to navigate across the six feet to the water without embarrassing myself completely (trying not to fall down in pain and/or complete lack of balance). The water temperature was lukewarm, but not bathwater; it felt good. I was still trying to keep my balance, walking into the water, but finally succumbed and sat down on the stones and slid into the small waves.
Ah, the saltiness of the sea! After quite a bit of swimming this summer in chlorinated pools, the rough salinity of the Mediterranean was a welcome change (and I can finally float!). I did my trademark crawl towards the open water, with a lookout for the jellyfish that I heard were liable to be in evidence. But I felt nothing, so continued my strokes back and forth along the shoreline for some time. Swimming has been a muscle relaxer after my long bike rides and runs this summer; the ameliorative effect of the water on my legs has convinced me that being near water is an important element in my sporting life. (In Arlington, I kept thinking about signing up to join the nearly pool at Washington and Lee HS, so I could swim there during the winter, and not just during the summer in my condo pool – which was only an elevator ride away, but never quite got there.)
After the runs and hill climbs of the past four days (gosh, has it only been four days!), the current of the sea felt great on my legs and body generally. I should do this on a regular basis…
After about 15 minutes – I’m not good at judging time in the water, but I know I wasn’t trying to be in there for 30 – I swam back toward short and climbed carefully out of the water back on to the beach. I headed toward my sandals before walking up the beach to the public showers at the breakfront. “Take a shower after swimming in the Mediterranean!” Priscilla warned; doesn’t everyone take a shower after a pool or ocean dip today? Entre chlor et pollution, il n’ya pas une difference de la substance!
I came back and lay down on the beach in the morning sun for a while, listening to the groups of older folks talking and just enjoying being in France, by the water, and feeling energized (and a little tired) by my swim.
One item on the list crossed off!
Suffice to say that my muscles are getting a workout these days. The 15 minute walk down to the beach was quiet and fairly quick. The Promenade des Anglais was already active with runners and joggers and bikers on their Saturday morning workout. The sun was fairly high in the sky even at 8:15 in the morning, and there was a smattering of a crowd on the beach. I walked down to one of the public, supervised sections, across the surface of small (and large) smooth grey stones, to find a spot close to the water. Those already on the beach were set up along the water line – largely older citizens, with umbrellas and chairs, greeting one another with kisses as they set up their seats and settled down for the morning. The water was not crowded at this hour, and after taking off my shorts and shirt and sandals, and setting down my towel, I headed toward the sea.
Ouch! Man, I have not done any walking around in bare feet this summer! I was extremely unsteady on my feet as I tried to navigate across the six feet to the water without embarrassing myself completely (trying not to fall down in pain and/or complete lack of balance). The water temperature was lukewarm, but not bathwater; it felt good. I was still trying to keep my balance, walking into the water, but finally succumbed and sat down on the stones and slid into the small waves.
Ah, the saltiness of the sea! After quite a bit of swimming this summer in chlorinated pools, the rough salinity of the Mediterranean was a welcome change (and I can finally float!). I did my trademark crawl towards the open water, with a lookout for the jellyfish that I heard were liable to be in evidence. But I felt nothing, so continued my strokes back and forth along the shoreline for some time. Swimming has been a muscle relaxer after my long bike rides and runs this summer; the ameliorative effect of the water on my legs has convinced me that being near water is an important element in my sporting life. (In Arlington, I kept thinking about signing up to join the nearly pool at Washington and Lee HS, so I could swim there during the winter, and not just during the summer in my condo pool – which was only an elevator ride away, but never quite got there.)
After the runs and hill climbs of the past four days (gosh, has it only been four days!), the current of the sea felt great on my legs and body generally. I should do this on a regular basis…
After about 15 minutes – I’m not good at judging time in the water, but I know I wasn’t trying to be in there for 30 – I swam back toward short and climbed carefully out of the water back on to the beach. I headed toward my sandals before walking up the beach to the public showers at the breakfront. “Take a shower after swimming in the Mediterranean!” Priscilla warned; doesn’t everyone take a shower after a pool or ocean dip today? Entre chlor et pollution, il n’ya pas une difference de la substance!
I came back and lay down on the beach in the morning sun for a while, listening to the groups of older folks talking and just enjoying being in France, by the water, and feeling energized (and a little tired) by my swim.
One item on the list crossed off!
Saturday, August 30, 2008
A List of Things to do in France
Composed in no particular order while sitting on the beach along the Promenade des Anglais:
Swim in the Mediterranean (completed this morning)
Bike as much as possible
Visit towns/cities: Monaco, Cannes, Antibes, Marseilles, Paris (with Joanne), Stuttgart (Uli, Claudia), Italy (Don), Sicily (Chelsea’s suggestion), Corsica (with Priscilla), Vienna (with Chris)
Visit in Nice: Musee des Beaux Arts, Opera House, Musee d’Art Moderne et contemporain, Musee et site Archeologiques
Find a track to run on in Nice
Find alternate running routes (other than the Promenade des Anglais)
Find a church
Study and practice my French!
Fall in love
Sail
Watch team sports
Buy new clothes
Try new cheeses and wines
Swim in the Mediterranean (completed this morning)
Bike as much as possible
Visit towns/cities: Monaco, Cannes, Antibes, Marseilles, Paris (with Joanne), Stuttgart (Uli, Claudia), Italy (Don), Sicily (Chelsea’s suggestion), Corsica (with Priscilla), Vienna (with Chris)
Visit in Nice: Musee des Beaux Arts, Opera House, Musee d’Art Moderne et contemporain, Musee et site Archeologiques
Find a track to run on in Nice
Find alternate running routes (other than the Promenade des Anglais)
Find a church
Study and practice my French!
Fall in love
Sail
Watch team sports
Buy new clothes
Try new cheeses and wines
Anxiety Produces Nothing Good - Lesson 2
There are two places in my body that are my vulnerable spots. One is my throat, which, according to most astrologists, has something to do with me being a Taurus. I’ve learned over time that wearing something around my neck in both the cold weather and hot (there’s always air conditioning, it seems) will go a long way to protecting my throat from the soreness that heralds the onset of a cold. Earlier in August I had gotten a cold – starting in my throat – which brought me down for several days. (See Anxiety Produces Nothing Good, below).
My other vulnerable spot is my stomach. My stress naturally goes there. There was a period during my early years of management consulting in which I had more than one visit to the doctor (and once to the emergency room) complaining of stomach pain. (Dehydration was the diagnosis for one; I received drugs the second time.)
The excitement of making it to Nice, finally, after 8 months of planning, was pretty uplifting. And I wanted my first morning in Nice to be perfect. I did my run along the sea, came back and picked up breakfast from the patisserie, and set up a picture-perfect meal. Little did I know that a few hours later I would be regretting the abrupt change in my eating habits. And I think my own stress level didn’t help.
There were two things on my list that I hadn’t accomplished before I got on the airplane to Nice: making progress on finding an apartment and getting health insurance. I had initiated both; I had begun looking at the internet site that Christiane had suggested that allowed one to search for apartments by selected criteria, and I had completed an application for insurance coverage. But my application for health insurance was rejected (for what seemed like a pretty specious reason) and the distance between the US and France seemed an overwhelming obstacle at the time for looking for an apartment. That being said, I knew I would get to them both once I got here (well, one might question my planning given my health crisis described above).
So I surmise that perhaps the looming question of where I was going to live in Nice may have had an accretive impact on my health that second day. I went into the city in the early afternoon and spent some time at two Internet cafes (the first one wouldn’t let me access my Yahoo account, strangely). After doing some blogging and emailing, I was planning to look at the realty site, but my stomach was heaving a bit. And by the time I was heading home, I was feeling extremely nauseous. I hate getting sick, and did everything I could to keep from retching on the sidewalk. This was NOT the day I was planning, for sure. Once back at the apartment (arrived at without incident), I told Christiane I was not feeling well, and headed off to bed.
I got up several hours later that evening, and ate some yogurt and honey; the only other food I’d had that day was my breakfast and a package of peanut butter crackers saved from my Century ride a few days before. But I was just pretending to Christiane that I was feeling better…back in bed, my stomach was tied in knots. I sweated for a few hours before finally giving in and taking two aspirin. I’m a purist; I love it that I can reply “none” when questioned about my medications on a health form, and think the fewer manufactured drugs I put in my body the better. The aspirin must have helped, though, because I awoke the next morning feeling no nausea. I was hungry and had some breakfast (yogurt, banana and muesli), but still wasn’t feeling great. I went back to bed and lay down. Delaying the inevitable, perhaps?
Christiane called me from her computer a little while later, and asked if I wanted to look at apartments online. She had pulled up a site that has lots of listings across France (the same one I had spent a little time on), and we put together criteria I was looking for and set up a search. She was great, getting me to stay focused and look for what I wanted. I wrote down a bunch of telephone numbers, and then she sat down with me as I made two calls. I asked each of the realtors if they spoke English, but ended up speaking a mixture of French and English with both of them. And set up two appointments to see apartments that afternoon.
I went back to my room, feeling better. After later that afternoon, after walking through the apartments (a small one bedroom, first floor flat, and then a huge two bedroom second floor apartment with a balcony), I felt much better. I was speaking French (and some English), and I was actually getting going on doing this apartment search. Anxiety level down, stomach feeling better.
We all need a little help from our friends.
The apartment hunt continues.I can’t wait to have my own place. It is lovely to have a room with Christiane, and I don’t mind visiting and being a visitor, but I look forward to setting up my new home. And to welcome my own visitors!
My other vulnerable spot is my stomach. My stress naturally goes there. There was a period during my early years of management consulting in which I had more than one visit to the doctor (and once to the emergency room) complaining of stomach pain. (Dehydration was the diagnosis for one; I received drugs the second time.)
The excitement of making it to Nice, finally, after 8 months of planning, was pretty uplifting. And I wanted my first morning in Nice to be perfect. I did my run along the sea, came back and picked up breakfast from the patisserie, and set up a picture-perfect meal. Little did I know that a few hours later I would be regretting the abrupt change in my eating habits. And I think my own stress level didn’t help.
There were two things on my list that I hadn’t accomplished before I got on the airplane to Nice: making progress on finding an apartment and getting health insurance. I had initiated both; I had begun looking at the internet site that Christiane had suggested that allowed one to search for apartments by selected criteria, and I had completed an application for insurance coverage. But my application for health insurance was rejected (for what seemed like a pretty specious reason) and the distance between the US and France seemed an overwhelming obstacle at the time for looking for an apartment. That being said, I knew I would get to them both once I got here (well, one might question my planning given my health crisis described above).
So I surmise that perhaps the looming question of where I was going to live in Nice may have had an accretive impact on my health that second day. I went into the city in the early afternoon and spent some time at two Internet cafes (the first one wouldn’t let me access my Yahoo account, strangely). After doing some blogging and emailing, I was planning to look at the realty site, but my stomach was heaving a bit. And by the time I was heading home, I was feeling extremely nauseous. I hate getting sick, and did everything I could to keep from retching on the sidewalk. This was NOT the day I was planning, for sure. Once back at the apartment (arrived at without incident), I told Christiane I was not feeling well, and headed off to bed.
I got up several hours later that evening, and ate some yogurt and honey; the only other food I’d had that day was my breakfast and a package of peanut butter crackers saved from my Century ride a few days before. But I was just pretending to Christiane that I was feeling better…back in bed, my stomach was tied in knots. I sweated for a few hours before finally giving in and taking two aspirin. I’m a purist; I love it that I can reply “none” when questioned about my medications on a health form, and think the fewer manufactured drugs I put in my body the better. The aspirin must have helped, though, because I awoke the next morning feeling no nausea. I was hungry and had some breakfast (yogurt, banana and muesli), but still wasn’t feeling great. I went back to bed and lay down. Delaying the inevitable, perhaps?
Christiane called me from her computer a little while later, and asked if I wanted to look at apartments online. She had pulled up a site that has lots of listings across France (the same one I had spent a little time on), and we put together criteria I was looking for and set up a search. She was great, getting me to stay focused and look for what I wanted. I wrote down a bunch of telephone numbers, and then she sat down with me as I made two calls. I asked each of the realtors if they spoke English, but ended up speaking a mixture of French and English with both of them. And set up two appointments to see apartments that afternoon.
I went back to my room, feeling better. After later that afternoon, after walking through the apartments (a small one bedroom, first floor flat, and then a huge two bedroom second floor apartment with a balcony), I felt much better. I was speaking French (and some English), and I was actually getting going on doing this apartment search. Anxiety level down, stomach feeling better.
We all need a little help from our friends.
The apartment hunt continues.I can’t wait to have my own place. It is lovely to have a room with Christiane, and I don’t mind visiting and being a visitor, but I look forward to setting up my new home. And to welcome my own visitors!
Friday, August 29, 2008
Barack and Me
Well, I had my first taste of being far away from home this morning, as I watched the early morning coverage here in Europe of Barack's speech last night. Via CNN, BBC and SKY News, I watched as much as I could. The little of the speech I did hear gave me goose bumps. I already had had some late night emails from friends indicating the strength of the oratory, and I expected nothing less.
I began supporting Obama with my dollars back in January 2007. I believed in his message from the first time I heard him, and haven't been disappointed since. He's also got a great team working for him, the sign of a good leader, and I think he's got the chutzpah to win this election.
But he's not going to win unless we all make it happen. Don't wait for miracles! Talk your friends into going to the polls and voting. And voting Democratic, even if they have some issues with Barack. He can't be anything like the Bush-Cheney debacle of the past 8 years. I'm a strong fiscal conservative, but I'm willing to bet that Barack would not be able to do anything as bad as build a trillion dollar war budget that doesn't even figure into our fiscal budget.
Obama is basically my age, graduated from the same university as I, went to law school, and didn't follow the grain by going to work for a big law firm - that makes two of us. I think I understand where he's coming from, and I fully support whatever gut feel he has for making decisions about the direction our country should be headed.
I hope you will support him too. Vote Democratic. Vote Obama! (Oh yeah, Biden too.)
I began supporting Obama with my dollars back in January 2007. I believed in his message from the first time I heard him, and haven't been disappointed since. He's also got a great team working for him, the sign of a good leader, and I think he's got the chutzpah to win this election.
But he's not going to win unless we all make it happen. Don't wait for miracles! Talk your friends into going to the polls and voting. And voting Democratic, even if they have some issues with Barack. He can't be anything like the Bush-Cheney debacle of the past 8 years. I'm a strong fiscal conservative, but I'm willing to bet that Barack would not be able to do anything as bad as build a trillion dollar war budget that doesn't even figure into our fiscal budget.
Obama is basically my age, graduated from the same university as I, went to law school, and didn't follow the grain by going to work for a big law firm - that makes two of us. I think I understand where he's coming from, and I fully support whatever gut feel he has for making decisions about the direction our country should be headed.
I hope you will support him too. Vote Democratic. Vote Obama! (Oh yeah, Biden too.)
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Wednesday Morning in Nice
Finally, I have arrived! Priscilla welcomed me to France at the Nice Cote d’Azure International Airport at 2:30 yesterday afternoon, after a painless and seemingly short overnight flight from Dulles International via Paris Charles de Gaulle airport. All my luggage arrived with me in good form, and we were able to fit it all into Priscilla’s small Honda without too much trouble. We drove to Christiane’s apartment in the city, where I will be staying until I find an apartment, and spent the afternoon catching up with each other’s lives since we were all last together in April.
After a lovely and simple salad and baguette dinner on Christiane’s balcony, Priscilla headed home. Christiane and I sat out on her balcony over a glass of wine for awhile longer, as the sun went over the hills, but soon I was longing to get to bed. As I have written here often, I have not been sleeping well (for more than five hours a night) for a good long time, and I was hoping that my arrival here in Nice, after 8 months of planning) would mean that my mind would finally relax.
Indeed, it did. I went to bed around 8:30 p.m. and slept until 2:30 or so, drank some water and headed back to bed. I woke up again around 7 a.m., as the sun was hitting the hills across from the apartment (seen through the sliding glass door in my bedroom), but I stayed in bed (and fell back asleep again) until 8. Almost 12 hours! Excellent. I was ready for a run. I put on my new black running shorts, happy to find that they had two front pockets for my keys. On the list of things to do before I left on Monday, I finally checked out Pacers Running Store in Clarendon to buy some shorts that didn’t look as baggy on me as the ones I have been wearing for two years. I had not tried them on however, in my race to finish all the things I had to do that day. Putting on my sunglasses and a 10 Euro bill in my pocket, I headed down the hill toward the sea.
It is a brilliant day on the Riviera. The sea was shimmering in the sun, and there were many people in the water at 9 a.m. The beach was already fairly crowded – the public beach, that is. There were rows and rows of beach chairs and parasols set up on the private beach clubs along the water, but at this hour, they were empty. There were many people walking, running and biking along the Promenade des Anglais, which hugs the seaside, seemingly from the airport to the West (I’ll have to do a longer run to confirm this) to the port on the east side of the city. I headed east, toward the old port, which is where I think I’d like to live, but more on that later. It is the end of the summer here, but there were still tourists and visitors in evidence as I ran along the Promenade. I love the water, and the beach, and the sun. This week is expected to be sunny and warm, so I will definitely be heading to the beach, and planning to spend some time in the water too.
On my way back to the apartment, I stopped by the corner market to pick up a Nice-Matin newspaper (Madonna did a show in Nice last night – four pages of pictures in the newspaper!) and some water, and then found a bakery next door to buy a pain au chocolat and some croissant for breakfast. Soon I was on the balcony, with breakfast of coffee, banana and pain au chocolat, reading the morning newspaper, while looking out at the Mediterranean. Dreams do come true!
Now the reality sets in, of course, too. My morning reading matter included the local circular, with apartment advertisements. My job for the next few days will be to find a place to live. But for the moment, I am enjoying the luxury of having somewhere to stay and exhale while I become accustomed to my new surroundings.
After a lovely and simple salad and baguette dinner on Christiane’s balcony, Priscilla headed home. Christiane and I sat out on her balcony over a glass of wine for awhile longer, as the sun went over the hills, but soon I was longing to get to bed. As I have written here often, I have not been sleeping well (for more than five hours a night) for a good long time, and I was hoping that my arrival here in Nice, after 8 months of planning) would mean that my mind would finally relax.
Indeed, it did. I went to bed around 8:30 p.m. and slept until 2:30 or so, drank some water and headed back to bed. I woke up again around 7 a.m., as the sun was hitting the hills across from the apartment (seen through the sliding glass door in my bedroom), but I stayed in bed (and fell back asleep again) until 8. Almost 12 hours! Excellent. I was ready for a run. I put on my new black running shorts, happy to find that they had two front pockets for my keys. On the list of things to do before I left on Monday, I finally checked out Pacers Running Store in Clarendon to buy some shorts that didn’t look as baggy on me as the ones I have been wearing for two years. I had not tried them on however, in my race to finish all the things I had to do that day. Putting on my sunglasses and a 10 Euro bill in my pocket, I headed down the hill toward the sea.
It is a brilliant day on the Riviera. The sea was shimmering in the sun, and there were many people in the water at 9 a.m. The beach was already fairly crowded – the public beach, that is. There were rows and rows of beach chairs and parasols set up on the private beach clubs along the water, but at this hour, they were empty. There were many people walking, running and biking along the Promenade des Anglais, which hugs the seaside, seemingly from the airport to the West (I’ll have to do a longer run to confirm this) to the port on the east side of the city. I headed east, toward the old port, which is where I think I’d like to live, but more on that later. It is the end of the summer here, but there were still tourists and visitors in evidence as I ran along the Promenade. I love the water, and the beach, and the sun. This week is expected to be sunny and warm, so I will definitely be heading to the beach, and planning to spend some time in the water too.
On my way back to the apartment, I stopped by the corner market to pick up a Nice-Matin newspaper (Madonna did a show in Nice last night – four pages of pictures in the newspaper!) and some water, and then found a bakery next door to buy a pain au chocolat and some croissant for breakfast. Soon I was on the balcony, with breakfast of coffee, banana and pain au chocolat, reading the morning newspaper, while looking out at the Mediterranean. Dreams do come true!
Now the reality sets in, of course, too. My morning reading matter included the local circular, with apartment advertisements. My job for the next few days will be to find a place to live. But for the moment, I am enjoying the luxury of having somewhere to stay and exhale while I become accustomed to my new surroundings.
Departure Day
August 25th. I woke up around 6:00 on Monday morning, after a Sunday evening of socializing with Tagrid, Theresa and Angie and her daughter Ella (women with whom I played on the Speed Bumps soccer team), and doing some last minute emails and packing.
I had spent Sunday on my bike participating in the Reston Century with my friend Tom. Tom and I had ridden the Potomac Peddlers Historic Century (our first 100 mile ride) last September, and had planned to do it again (actually we had talked about doing three centuries this year – well, Tom did), but my plans for France interfered with that plan. So I found the Reston Century, which was scheduled for August 24th, the day before my plane to Nice, and suggested we ride that one instead. I have to say everyone thought I was crazy to do a long bike ride the day before my departure, but good planning allows for one to take advantage of all sorts of opportunities. Besides, being completely goal-driven, I didn’t want to waste all my training of the past several months - including training rides with my sister Chris, my friend Becky, and of course, Tom.
Sunday morning I was up at 6 a.m. to ride down to catch the 6:43 5A bus at the Rosslyn metro (the bike rack in front of the bus made this possible), which would drop me off at the Herndon-Monroe Park and Ride by 7:20. I biked over to Reston Town Center (a few miles) to meet Tom. It was a bright sunny morning, and the Town Center was packed with bikers. We stood in a long line to register our appearance that day (we were pre-registered, but this check-in allowed us to pick up a t-shirt later) and headed off with our cue sheets by 8 a.m.
The sky was cloudless all morning, and though the sun was warm, biking along at about 14 miles an hour, we didn’t notice the heat too much (up in the 80s most of the day). The large numbers of bikers meant that we were often biking near others, which has not always been the case for the two of us. Camaraderie is a helpful thing as you tackle interminable hills and long stretches of flat roads. It was a good course, at least 30 miles on the Washington and Old Dominion Bike Trail, and the rest in the towns like Hamilton, Taylorsville and Waterford. There were a good number of challenging hills and fast and long downhills; we biked past rolling fields and herds of cows, horse farms, housing developments and small towns. We made three stops at the well-supplied Rest Stops, where water and Gatorade were available, as well as picnic tables full of bananas, oranges, granola bars, peanut butter sandwiches, cookies, baked goods, M&Ms, and other candy bars.
We finished the ride about 4:30, pretty exhausted, as the last 15 miles on the W&OD trail were slightly uphill; a punishing finish after 90 or so miles on the bike. (In an ironic twist, the Reston Century was not 100 miles, it was 104 miles! Well, I guess it’s hard to design the perfect route.) There was a free buffet meal being served to the bikers on the RTC plaza post-ride, but we headed over to the sidewalk tables at Clydes for a Sierra Nevada beer instead. I sent a text message to my friends and family, letting everyone know I had finished the ride – and was now ready to head to Nice!
Afterward, Tom drove me back to Tagrid’s home, so I would be there for the 6 p.m. ladies gathering Tagrid had organized.
Back to Monday. I awoke early, and decided to blog my morning thoughts (see On the Verge, and Barnard - Second Generation Begins) though I was feeling pretty good, I knew I wanted to go swimming in Tagrid’s backyard pool; the water is great for sore legs. The thought of having a wet swim suit in my luggage made me ask Tagrid if there was a swimsuit requirement for the pool. Of course not, she said. You might as well get in practice, she said. So I had a lovely swim in the pool, au natural, with their two new puppies running back and forth around the pool as I swam laps.
First on the list to do that morning was a trip to the post office, to send off two boxes – one to my friend Bonnie (maternity clothes she had lent to me during my brief expectant period) and another to Priscilla, with those things that I wanted with me in Nice, but that I didn’t need immediately. Happily, the cost of sending the box to France was not exhorbitant (I was weighing the option of not sending it, if so), and it should appear here in 10 days.
After dropping off a few things at my storage unit (the first of three trips that day), Tagrid took me with her to visit the Obama headquarters in Ballston. She had brought with her bagels and fruit for the office; we organized and cleaned up the small “kitchen” in the office, and set up a breakfast spread for the volunteers. We were there just before 10; there were a few people in the office when we arrived, a few young people listening in to a morning call, it appeared. By the time we left, the rooms had started to hum, as volunteers began to appear to begin the day’s work.
Tagrid dropped me off at my condo, so I could complete the cleaning of the rooms for my renters. I still had some left-over toiletries to drop off at Miriam’s Kitchen (they provide them to their clients) and needed to drop off my absentee ballot at the Arlington County offices at the Courthouse metro. I did some cleaning and then got on the metro to Courthouse, dropped off the application, hopped back on the Metro, and headed to Foggy Bottom and Western Presbyterian. At the church, I chatted with Shenella, the church secretary and caught up on the latest, left my garage key for Bill, and made some copies of my birth certificate and other important papers – intending to send them home as a necessary back up in emergencies. I dropped off the toiletries and headed back to the Metro to meet my friend Tim for lunch in Ballston.
On the way to lunch, I received a call from Chris, Chelsea and Nathan, who were in the midst of eating their box lunches in the quad at Barnard with hundreds of other families and newly arrived Barnard freshmen. They had finished moving Chelsea into her new dorm room that morning (not wanting to wait for the moving carts, they had carried everything to her fourth floor room – it made them think of me, Chelsea told me, who would have done something just like that). It was good to hear from them; I told Chelsea I’d call her later that day.
Tim and I met at Grand Cru, a wine store/restaurant in the Ballston neighborhood (good food and wine, but not a place to go if you are in a hurry – the service leaves a little to be desired). I hadn’t seen Tim in a long time, but we had recently reconnected, and we had a good time catching up on our respective lives.
After lunch, I was headed back to the condo. On the way, I stopped in the Ballston mall to get a copy made of the key to the bike storage closet (I had promised my renter that I would provide him a key so he could store his bike), and then found a Boxes Etc. location (I think that’s what it’s still called) to buy a manila envelope to send the copies of my papers that I had made at the church. I had just enough postage (in the form of stamps) to cover the cost of sending the envelope back to Amherst. Back at the condo, I picked up another few things to bring to my storage unit, and headed back to the metro. It was a really hot day, and I had been doing some walking already; I still had a metro card with a lot of money on it (courtesy of Fannie Mae), taking the metro from Virginia Square to Clarendon seemed the right thing to do.
Off the metro, I walked into the Pacers Running Store to buy some running shorts and then walked a few blocks to my storage unit, to drop off the two bags I had with me. I then headed over to Tagrid’s, walking through my old Lyon Park neighborhood, and past my former home on 1st Road, a little walk down memory lane. I needed to get my bike back to the condo, where I would store it. I was getting down to the last few things on my list.
After checking in with Tagrid, I hopped on my bike – deciding to take a small detour on the way to see Beth and Reilly’s recently completed renovation of Reilly’s family home in the Ashton Heights neighborhood. I had seen the construction last spring; the completed home is lovely and fits lovingly in amongst its neighbors.
Back at the condo, the final tasks included scrubbing down the tub, wiping down the refridgerator interior, as well as the surfaces and cabinets in the kitchen. I scrubbed out some obvious spots in the carpet and did a final vacuuming. The vacuum was left in the basement for some fortuitous person.
While cleaning I also put a call into HSBC International Bank, to check on the status of my application to HSBC France and the Nice branch. I was told the application had been reviewed and was now in France – progress! I’ll check in with them next week to see how it is progressing.
My friend (and ride to the airport) arrived at my condo to help me with the final cleaning, the final stop at my storage unit to drop off my toolbox and then off to get my luggage.
Back at Tagrid’s, I did my final packing, which meant storing my computer, and putting the last of the clothes that I had been wearing in my suitcases. Tagrid had also had me try on a dress and a skirt that she had that she thought that I could wear (both fit) and I packed them too. Soon I was doing my good byes and heading out to the airport with my friend.
I spent the minutes before getting on the plane online sending last minute emails and on the phone with my mom and dad. I was ready for this adventure finally to happen. And it was time.
I had spent Sunday on my bike participating in the Reston Century with my friend Tom. Tom and I had ridden the Potomac Peddlers Historic Century (our first 100 mile ride) last September, and had planned to do it again (actually we had talked about doing three centuries this year – well, Tom did), but my plans for France interfered with that plan. So I found the Reston Century, which was scheduled for August 24th, the day before my plane to Nice, and suggested we ride that one instead. I have to say everyone thought I was crazy to do a long bike ride the day before my departure, but good planning allows for one to take advantage of all sorts of opportunities. Besides, being completely goal-driven, I didn’t want to waste all my training of the past several months - including training rides with my sister Chris, my friend Becky, and of course, Tom.
Sunday morning I was up at 6 a.m. to ride down to catch the 6:43 5A bus at the Rosslyn metro (the bike rack in front of the bus made this possible), which would drop me off at the Herndon-Monroe Park and Ride by 7:20. I biked over to Reston Town Center (a few miles) to meet Tom. It was a bright sunny morning, and the Town Center was packed with bikers. We stood in a long line to register our appearance that day (we were pre-registered, but this check-in allowed us to pick up a t-shirt later) and headed off with our cue sheets by 8 a.m.
The sky was cloudless all morning, and though the sun was warm, biking along at about 14 miles an hour, we didn’t notice the heat too much (up in the 80s most of the day). The large numbers of bikers meant that we were often biking near others, which has not always been the case for the two of us. Camaraderie is a helpful thing as you tackle interminable hills and long stretches of flat roads. It was a good course, at least 30 miles on the Washington and Old Dominion Bike Trail, and the rest in the towns like Hamilton, Taylorsville and Waterford. There were a good number of challenging hills and fast and long downhills; we biked past rolling fields and herds of cows, horse farms, housing developments and small towns. We made three stops at the well-supplied Rest Stops, where water and Gatorade were available, as well as picnic tables full of bananas, oranges, granola bars, peanut butter sandwiches, cookies, baked goods, M&Ms, and other candy bars.
We finished the ride about 4:30, pretty exhausted, as the last 15 miles on the W&OD trail were slightly uphill; a punishing finish after 90 or so miles on the bike. (In an ironic twist, the Reston Century was not 100 miles, it was 104 miles! Well, I guess it’s hard to design the perfect route.) There was a free buffet meal being served to the bikers on the RTC plaza post-ride, but we headed over to the sidewalk tables at Clydes for a Sierra Nevada beer instead. I sent a text message to my friends and family, letting everyone know I had finished the ride – and was now ready to head to Nice!
Afterward, Tom drove me back to Tagrid’s home, so I would be there for the 6 p.m. ladies gathering Tagrid had organized.
Back to Monday. I awoke early, and decided to blog my morning thoughts (see On the Verge, and Barnard - Second Generation Begins) though I was feeling pretty good, I knew I wanted to go swimming in Tagrid’s backyard pool; the water is great for sore legs. The thought of having a wet swim suit in my luggage made me ask Tagrid if there was a swimsuit requirement for the pool. Of course not, she said. You might as well get in practice, she said. So I had a lovely swim in the pool, au natural, with their two new puppies running back and forth around the pool as I swam laps.
First on the list to do that morning was a trip to the post office, to send off two boxes – one to my friend Bonnie (maternity clothes she had lent to me during my brief expectant period) and another to Priscilla, with those things that I wanted with me in Nice, but that I didn’t need immediately. Happily, the cost of sending the box to France was not exhorbitant (I was weighing the option of not sending it, if so), and it should appear here in 10 days.
After dropping off a few things at my storage unit (the first of three trips that day), Tagrid took me with her to visit the Obama headquarters in Ballston. She had brought with her bagels and fruit for the office; we organized and cleaned up the small “kitchen” in the office, and set up a breakfast spread for the volunteers. We were there just before 10; there were a few people in the office when we arrived, a few young people listening in to a morning call, it appeared. By the time we left, the rooms had started to hum, as volunteers began to appear to begin the day’s work.
Tagrid dropped me off at my condo, so I could complete the cleaning of the rooms for my renters. I still had some left-over toiletries to drop off at Miriam’s Kitchen (they provide them to their clients) and needed to drop off my absentee ballot at the Arlington County offices at the Courthouse metro. I did some cleaning and then got on the metro to Courthouse, dropped off the application, hopped back on the Metro, and headed to Foggy Bottom and Western Presbyterian. At the church, I chatted with Shenella, the church secretary and caught up on the latest, left my garage key for Bill, and made some copies of my birth certificate and other important papers – intending to send them home as a necessary back up in emergencies. I dropped off the toiletries and headed back to the Metro to meet my friend Tim for lunch in Ballston.
On the way to lunch, I received a call from Chris, Chelsea and Nathan, who were in the midst of eating their box lunches in the quad at Barnard with hundreds of other families and newly arrived Barnard freshmen. They had finished moving Chelsea into her new dorm room that morning (not wanting to wait for the moving carts, they had carried everything to her fourth floor room – it made them think of me, Chelsea told me, who would have done something just like that). It was good to hear from them; I told Chelsea I’d call her later that day.
Tim and I met at Grand Cru, a wine store/restaurant in the Ballston neighborhood (good food and wine, but not a place to go if you are in a hurry – the service leaves a little to be desired). I hadn’t seen Tim in a long time, but we had recently reconnected, and we had a good time catching up on our respective lives.
After lunch, I was headed back to the condo. On the way, I stopped in the Ballston mall to get a copy made of the key to the bike storage closet (I had promised my renter that I would provide him a key so he could store his bike), and then found a Boxes Etc. location (I think that’s what it’s still called) to buy a manila envelope to send the copies of my papers that I had made at the church. I had just enough postage (in the form of stamps) to cover the cost of sending the envelope back to Amherst. Back at the condo, I picked up another few things to bring to my storage unit, and headed back to the metro. It was a really hot day, and I had been doing some walking already; I still had a metro card with a lot of money on it (courtesy of Fannie Mae), taking the metro from Virginia Square to Clarendon seemed the right thing to do.
Off the metro, I walked into the Pacers Running Store to buy some running shorts and then walked a few blocks to my storage unit, to drop off the two bags I had with me. I then headed over to Tagrid’s, walking through my old Lyon Park neighborhood, and past my former home on 1st Road, a little walk down memory lane. I needed to get my bike back to the condo, where I would store it. I was getting down to the last few things on my list.
After checking in with Tagrid, I hopped on my bike – deciding to take a small detour on the way to see Beth and Reilly’s recently completed renovation of Reilly’s family home in the Ashton Heights neighborhood. I had seen the construction last spring; the completed home is lovely and fits lovingly in amongst its neighbors.
Back at the condo, the final tasks included scrubbing down the tub, wiping down the refridgerator interior, as well as the surfaces and cabinets in the kitchen. I scrubbed out some obvious spots in the carpet and did a final vacuuming. The vacuum was left in the basement for some fortuitous person.
While cleaning I also put a call into HSBC International Bank, to check on the status of my application to HSBC France and the Nice branch. I was told the application had been reviewed and was now in France – progress! I’ll check in with them next week to see how it is progressing.
My friend (and ride to the airport) arrived at my condo to help me with the final cleaning, the final stop at my storage unit to drop off my toolbox and then off to get my luggage.
Back at Tagrid’s, I did my final packing, which meant storing my computer, and putting the last of the clothes that I had been wearing in my suitcases. Tagrid had also had me try on a dress and a skirt that she had that she thought that I could wear (both fit) and I packed them too. Soon I was doing my good byes and heading out to the airport with my friend.
I spent the minutes before getting on the plane online sending last minute emails and on the phone with my mom and dad. I was ready for this adventure finally to happen. And it was time.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Barnard - Second Generation Begins
Today as I fly off to France, my niece Chelsea begins her freshman year at Barnard College. Chelsea is not too happy about this, because Barnard is my alma mater, and she really would like me to be nearby, to share her experiences about the start of her college life. But I've thought, it's probably good that I will be far away (relatively); she needs to have her own experiences on the campus, just as I did as an 18 year old.
Over her growing up years, Chelsea was the recipient of much Barnard-logo'd merchandise, from t-shirts to sweatshirts (all of which she wore!). I think she really didn't hear many stories about my college life, there were certainly other things to talk about when I was with her! But when she started looking at colleges, I was fairly insistent that she put Barnard on her list, just to make her aunt happy. I have been an active alum at the college since I left it, culminating in 2001, when I became the President of the Alumni Association for a three year term, along with the perk of serving as an alumnae representative on the college's board of trustees (for a four-year term). So, it was no surprise that I might encourage my only niece to attend!
But it was Chelsea herself who became enamoured with the school, during a visit last July with her mom. I remember it well: I received a very excited telephone call from Chelsea as I was on the beach at Amelia Island, FL. She loved the school, it was her first choice! My sister got on the phone too, and said that she finally understood why the school was so special to me. That meant an awful lot to me.
So Chelsea applied to Barnard, along with a bunch of other schools that she was bound to get into (she's a top student, in her senior class top 10, with tons of AP exam results and extra curriculars and, yes, a junior year spent abroad in Italy). I was extraordinarily eager that Barnard recognize that my niece was applying to the college, but wasn't sure the protocol on making that known. So I spoke to the outgoing executive director of the Alumni Association, and she demanded that I write the Director of Admissions (who I knew), and write a note on behalf of my niece. Do it now, she said, don't wait! Make sure they know, when they have to choose, that Chelsea is a legacy!
So I wrote a note to Jennifer, highly recommending my niece as a woman who would fit perfectly into the Barnard environment, an independent, curious, world-savvy woman who knew what she wanted to do (study classical languages), and would contribute to the campus life in many ways. Jennifer responded to my email, thanking me for my note, and letting me know it would make it into Chelsea's file.
Admissions decisions are typically made by the end of March, so that the students can receive notice (via snail mail!) by early April. Chelsea's first acceptance was a scholarship to Brandeis, a very good school, incenting her to attend. Her family was very excited. But then, late one Thursday night, I received an email from Jennifer, with the subject heading "Confidential." It was a note letting me know that Chelsea was receiving a letter from Barnard admissions that would make her happy. OMG. I now knew that my niece was accepted to my alma mater, and I couldn't tell her! I had to wait until she received the letter herself! It was a very long weekend of holding onto that very exciting news, complicated by the fact that Chelsea was visiting her boyfriend in Florida that weekend, and wouldn't receive her mail until the next week. But on Monday (or was it Tuesday) morning, I got the telephone call from her - a very high-pitched voice full of excitement - that she was accepted to Barnard!! It was the top of her list. She was going to go to the school. It was a wonderful moment for me.
So, now she is, like me, on the verge of something new and exciting and that will affect her the rest of her life. I wouldn't want anything more for her. And I look forward to hearing her stories, as much as I look forward to sharing mine with her. And so it begins.
Over her growing up years, Chelsea was the recipient of much Barnard-logo'd merchandise, from t-shirts to sweatshirts (all of which she wore!). I think she really didn't hear many stories about my college life, there were certainly other things to talk about when I was with her! But when she started looking at colleges, I was fairly insistent that she put Barnard on her list, just to make her aunt happy. I have been an active alum at the college since I left it, culminating in 2001, when I became the President of the Alumni Association for a three year term, along with the perk of serving as an alumnae representative on the college's board of trustees (for a four-year term). So, it was no surprise that I might encourage my only niece to attend!
But it was Chelsea herself who became enamoured with the school, during a visit last July with her mom. I remember it well: I received a very excited telephone call from Chelsea as I was on the beach at Amelia Island, FL. She loved the school, it was her first choice! My sister got on the phone too, and said that she finally understood why the school was so special to me. That meant an awful lot to me.
So Chelsea applied to Barnard, along with a bunch of other schools that she was bound to get into (she's a top student, in her senior class top 10, with tons of AP exam results and extra curriculars and, yes, a junior year spent abroad in Italy). I was extraordinarily eager that Barnard recognize that my niece was applying to the college, but wasn't sure the protocol on making that known. So I spoke to the outgoing executive director of the Alumni Association, and she demanded that I write the Director of Admissions (who I knew), and write a note on behalf of my niece. Do it now, she said, don't wait! Make sure they know, when they have to choose, that Chelsea is a legacy!
So I wrote a note to Jennifer, highly recommending my niece as a woman who would fit perfectly into the Barnard environment, an independent, curious, world-savvy woman who knew what she wanted to do (study classical languages), and would contribute to the campus life in many ways. Jennifer responded to my email, thanking me for my note, and letting me know it would make it into Chelsea's file.
Admissions decisions are typically made by the end of March, so that the students can receive notice (via snail mail!) by early April. Chelsea's first acceptance was a scholarship to Brandeis, a very good school, incenting her to attend. Her family was very excited. But then, late one Thursday night, I received an email from Jennifer, with the subject heading "Confidential." It was a note letting me know that Chelsea was receiving a letter from Barnard admissions that would make her happy. OMG. I now knew that my niece was accepted to my alma mater, and I couldn't tell her! I had to wait until she received the letter herself! It was a very long weekend of holding onto that very exciting news, complicated by the fact that Chelsea was visiting her boyfriend in Florida that weekend, and wouldn't receive her mail until the next week. But on Monday (or was it Tuesday) morning, I got the telephone call from her - a very high-pitched voice full of excitement - that she was accepted to Barnard!! It was the top of her list. She was going to go to the school. It was a wonderful moment for me.
So, now she is, like me, on the verge of something new and exciting and that will affect her the rest of her life. I wouldn't want anything more for her. And I look forward to hearing her stories, as much as I look forward to sharing mine with her. And so it begins.
On the Verge
It's 6:30 a.m. on Monday, August 25th. Today is the day that I leave Virginia and fly to Nice. I can't wait. Just had to share.
This past week went by both quickly and seemed like it would never end. So many people to see, things to pack, last minute things to do and say. The condo is virtually empty - I will go over and do some cleaning today before I leave. I gave the keys to my new tenants on Saturday; they seem very easy going, so at the moment I am not worried about them. I was able to give away my bed and a dresser on Saturday to an organization in Washington that gives furniture to those folks in DC who have a place to live, but no money to furnish it. It's called A Wider Circle (www.awidercircle.org); I'd encourage you to support them with donations or money or in kind if you can. I was impressed with the volunteers I talked to and met in the course of making my donation.
Today I will put a box in the mail to myself (unless it appears that bringing it on the plane makes more sense), make copies of my important papers and put them in the mail to my parents, have lunch with an old friend, drop off my final contributions to Miriam's Kitchen (www.miriamskitchen.org, if you aren't familiar with the breakfast program located at Western Presbyterian), and do my final packing for the plane, which doesn't leave until 10:15 tonight.
Yes, I am on the verge of leaving my country for a while, and I can't wait.
This past week went by both quickly and seemed like it would never end. So many people to see, things to pack, last minute things to do and say. The condo is virtually empty - I will go over and do some cleaning today before I leave. I gave the keys to my new tenants on Saturday; they seem very easy going, so at the moment I am not worried about them. I was able to give away my bed and a dresser on Saturday to an organization in Washington that gives furniture to those folks in DC who have a place to live, but no money to furnish it. It's called A Wider Circle (www.awidercircle.org); I'd encourage you to support them with donations or money or in kind if you can. I was impressed with the volunteers I talked to and met in the course of making my donation.
Today I will put a box in the mail to myself (unless it appears that bringing it on the plane makes more sense), make copies of my important papers and put them in the mail to my parents, have lunch with an old friend, drop off my final contributions to Miriam's Kitchen (www.miriamskitchen.org, if you aren't familiar with the breakfast program located at Western Presbyterian), and do my final packing for the plane, which doesn't leave until 10:15 tonight.
Yes, I am on the verge of leaving my country for a while, and I can't wait.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Moving Day
Saturday, August 16th was designated Moving Day in my calendar of events leading up to departure day, August 25th.
Months ago my brother in law Kenny volunteered to help me move things into storage, and I made preparations along the way: reserved a UHaul van and the elevator and loading dock in my building for that day, reserved a larger storage unit at my storage place, began the lengthy and tedious task of packing the entire contents of my condo into boxes - or giving things away.
The day before Moving Day I was supposed to hear from UHaul about where to pick up the van I had reserved. And indeed, I received a text message Friday afternoon, alerting me to my reserved van waiting for me the next day in NE Washington at 6:30 p.m. I was immediately panicked; the move was planned for the morning, not the end of the day! I called the number on my text message, and the man at the UHaul store confirmed the reservation, and said he didn't have any vans available any earlier as I was telling him I needed. As I took a cab home that afternoon (my last day at work) to meet Kenny, who had arrived in Washington via Amtrak, with his son, Nathan, I thought, I will get online and figure out what to do.
When I got home, I logged onto my computer and email, and, lo and behold, found an email that said I had a reserved van at a different location, in Mount Rainier, MD, at 11 a.m. the next day. I was immediately relieved; this was a much better state of affairs, but it was not exactly what I planned either. I had asked my friends Tom and Todd to come help me move on Saturday morning at 10 a.m. I really wanted that van at 8 a.m. The email told me to reply if I had any problems with the reservation, so I did, requesting an earlier pick up.
In the meantime, Kenny and Nathan had arrived at the condo from Union Station via the Metro, and we got ourselves together to get back on the Metro to my friend Becky's, as she was going to host us for dinner that night. In a happy circumstance of making train switches easily (orange line to red line), and making a quick connection to the 32 bus at Tenleytown, we were at her McLean Gardens home at almost the designated 5:30 hour to enjoy a Shabbat dinner of spinach lasagne and red wine with her and her sons Gabriel and Reuben.
By the time we got back home that night, I had received a note back from the UHaul folks that I could pick up my van at the Mount Rainier location at 9 a.m. A much better state of affairs! I figured out the location of the rental store, and used the WMATA website to figure out a way to get there directly via Metro and Metrobus in the morning. I love Washington's transit system, you really can get anywhere you need to go!
So, on Saturday morning at 8 a.m., Kenny and I were on our way via the Orange line to Farragut West, and then got on the G8 bus to Avondale at 8:15, a route that winded through the city and then up Rhode Island Avenue to upper Northeast, past Catholic University to Eastern Avenue in Mount Rainier and Varnum Street, the location of the New Horizon Thrift Shop and UHaul Rental.
The block was dominated by the New Horizon Church, located in what appeared to be a former movie theater, and we found the Thrift Shop and several UHaul vans down the street a bit, across from a 7-11, in what appeared to be a former gas station. It was 9 a.m. on a Saturday, and a sunny and clear day, but I was apprehensive. The UHaul place looked suspiciously underused, and there were only three vans in the parking lot. But, hope springs eternal.
Well, my suspicions were confirmed, as the appointed hour for the reservation came and went and no one showed up at the Thrift Store location to rent us the van. I started calling the UHaul reservation number, to let them know I was waiting for someone to show up; all they could do, the operator said, was try and reach the owner - which of course, I was trying to do too. 9:30, 10:00. I was starting to get desperate. At 9:30 I had called Tom and left him a voicemail that things were being delayed. I did reach Todd, and let him know that it looked like 11 was a more realistic time for him to appear. He was OK with that, and changed his plans for the morning.
At 10:00 we were still waiting, and I was still trying to make phone calls to the UHaul numbers I had (central and Maryland local) to let someone know that things were not going as planned. Shortly after 10, Kenny and I were joined by a family who were trying to drop off a UHaul short haul carrier. The couple and their son had driven up from Baton Rouge, we learned, to move their son into his new apartment as he is to begin graduate studies at the University of Maryland this Fall (in aerospace engineering! We did have some interesting conversation).
Tom called about this time, having received my voicemail, and said he was on his way to the condo. I told him that we were still waiting for the truck, but that it would be great if he and Nathan would move stuff down to the loading dock. He was agreeable, as Tom so often is.
About 15 minutes later, a short black woman, carrying several bags, wandered toward the Thrift Shop. She worked at the Thrift Shop it turned out, and at our urging, was soon on her cell phone, calling Pastor Joe, who was the UHaul guy, to get him over to the store to help us out. I asked her, how long will we be waiting? 10 minutes, 30 minutes? She promised me that he did not live far away; he would be over soon. So the Baton Rouge couple and Kenny and I began our wait for Pastor Joe. We debated for a short bit whether Pastor Joe would be capable of unhitching the carrier from the Louisiana Tahoe SUV. Kenny, being the resourceful guy he is, checked out the carrier, and convinced the man and his son that the three of them could unhitch it - which they did.
Pastor Joe finally did arrive, a slight African American man, looking to be around 28 years old, around 10:40. He took care of the Louisiana folks first, taking their paperwork, so that they were soon ready to go. But they did not; they knew I had already called and reserved another truck in the nearby Hyattsville location, and that Kenny and I did not have a way to get there, and they decided they would hang out and make sure we either got a truck from Joe or they would drive us to Hyattsville. Such nice people reinforce your belief in the power of community.
Joe had to walk over to the church to get a computer that worked, so I walked down the block with him (not planning to let him out of my sight), and let him know as we walked that I had been waiting since 9 a.m. for him to arrive. In a nice calm voice. He said he was sorry, in his own soft voice. But he started to look worried. But I still didn't trust I was going to get a truck.
He unlocked the church front door, and in the lobby, took down my cell phone number, so he could go in the office and use the computer (he told me I could not go in that office) and, it turns out, call me with questions regarding the reservation form. So over the next 20 minutes, he called me intermittently to answer questions regarding my reservation so he could complete the contract. At one point he asked me if I needed to hang up because I was using up my minutes...nice guy that he is. I said, no problem, plenty of minutes!
Tom called around this point, letting me know that he and Nathan were taking a breather, after having moved a bunch of boxes. I let him know that it looked like we were going to have a van shortly. I predicted we'd be back at the condo by noon.
Finally, Joe called to say he was printing out the contract. I told the woman and her son that it looked like I was good to go, and thanked them for staying around to make sure we were taken care of. Joe appeared with the contract a few minutes later, and we walked back to the gas station where Kenny was hanging out waiting for me. By 11:15 I was calling Tom to let him know that we were on our way, and hoped to be at the condo by noon.
And by noon, after a drive through downtown DC to Arlington, listening to Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me, we were back at the condo, waiting for Nathan and Tom to open the door to the loading dock, where they had stacked all my boxes....the moving was about to begin!
Months ago my brother in law Kenny volunteered to help me move things into storage, and I made preparations along the way: reserved a UHaul van and the elevator and loading dock in my building for that day, reserved a larger storage unit at my storage place, began the lengthy and tedious task of packing the entire contents of my condo into boxes - or giving things away.
The day before Moving Day I was supposed to hear from UHaul about where to pick up the van I had reserved. And indeed, I received a text message Friday afternoon, alerting me to my reserved van waiting for me the next day in NE Washington at 6:30 p.m. I was immediately panicked; the move was planned for the morning, not the end of the day! I called the number on my text message, and the man at the UHaul store confirmed the reservation, and said he didn't have any vans available any earlier as I was telling him I needed. As I took a cab home that afternoon (my last day at work) to meet Kenny, who had arrived in Washington via Amtrak, with his son, Nathan, I thought, I will get online and figure out what to do.
When I got home, I logged onto my computer and email, and, lo and behold, found an email that said I had a reserved van at a different location, in Mount Rainier, MD, at 11 a.m. the next day. I was immediately relieved; this was a much better state of affairs, but it was not exactly what I planned either. I had asked my friends Tom and Todd to come help me move on Saturday morning at 10 a.m. I really wanted that van at 8 a.m. The email told me to reply if I had any problems with the reservation, so I did, requesting an earlier pick up.
In the meantime, Kenny and Nathan had arrived at the condo from Union Station via the Metro, and we got ourselves together to get back on the Metro to my friend Becky's, as she was going to host us for dinner that night. In a happy circumstance of making train switches easily (orange line to red line), and making a quick connection to the 32 bus at Tenleytown, we were at her McLean Gardens home at almost the designated 5:30 hour to enjoy a Shabbat dinner of spinach lasagne and red wine with her and her sons Gabriel and Reuben.
By the time we got back home that night, I had received a note back from the UHaul folks that I could pick up my van at the Mount Rainier location at 9 a.m. A much better state of affairs! I figured out the location of the rental store, and used the WMATA website to figure out a way to get there directly via Metro and Metrobus in the morning. I love Washington's transit system, you really can get anywhere you need to go!
So, on Saturday morning at 8 a.m., Kenny and I were on our way via the Orange line to Farragut West, and then got on the G8 bus to Avondale at 8:15, a route that winded through the city and then up Rhode Island Avenue to upper Northeast, past Catholic University to Eastern Avenue in Mount Rainier and Varnum Street, the location of the New Horizon Thrift Shop and UHaul Rental.
The block was dominated by the New Horizon Church, located in what appeared to be a former movie theater, and we found the Thrift Shop and several UHaul vans down the street a bit, across from a 7-11, in what appeared to be a former gas station. It was 9 a.m. on a Saturday, and a sunny and clear day, but I was apprehensive. The UHaul place looked suspiciously underused, and there were only three vans in the parking lot. But, hope springs eternal.
Well, my suspicions were confirmed, as the appointed hour for the reservation came and went and no one showed up at the Thrift Store location to rent us the van. I started calling the UHaul reservation number, to let them know I was waiting for someone to show up; all they could do, the operator said, was try and reach the owner - which of course, I was trying to do too. 9:30, 10:00. I was starting to get desperate. At 9:30 I had called Tom and left him a voicemail that things were being delayed. I did reach Todd, and let him know that it looked like 11 was a more realistic time for him to appear. He was OK with that, and changed his plans for the morning.
At 10:00 we were still waiting, and I was still trying to make phone calls to the UHaul numbers I had (central and Maryland local) to let someone know that things were not going as planned. Shortly after 10, Kenny and I were joined by a family who were trying to drop off a UHaul short haul carrier. The couple and their son had driven up from Baton Rouge, we learned, to move their son into his new apartment as he is to begin graduate studies at the University of Maryland this Fall (in aerospace engineering! We did have some interesting conversation).
Tom called about this time, having received my voicemail, and said he was on his way to the condo. I told him that we were still waiting for the truck, but that it would be great if he and Nathan would move stuff down to the loading dock. He was agreeable, as Tom so often is.
About 15 minutes later, a short black woman, carrying several bags, wandered toward the Thrift Shop. She worked at the Thrift Shop it turned out, and at our urging, was soon on her cell phone, calling Pastor Joe, who was the UHaul guy, to get him over to the store to help us out. I asked her, how long will we be waiting? 10 minutes, 30 minutes? She promised me that he did not live far away; he would be over soon. So the Baton Rouge couple and Kenny and I began our wait for Pastor Joe. We debated for a short bit whether Pastor Joe would be capable of unhitching the carrier from the Louisiana Tahoe SUV. Kenny, being the resourceful guy he is, checked out the carrier, and convinced the man and his son that the three of them could unhitch it - which they did.
Pastor Joe finally did arrive, a slight African American man, looking to be around 28 years old, around 10:40. He took care of the Louisiana folks first, taking their paperwork, so that they were soon ready to go. But they did not; they knew I had already called and reserved another truck in the nearby Hyattsville location, and that Kenny and I did not have a way to get there, and they decided they would hang out and make sure we either got a truck from Joe or they would drive us to Hyattsville. Such nice people reinforce your belief in the power of community.
Joe had to walk over to the church to get a computer that worked, so I walked down the block with him (not planning to let him out of my sight), and let him know as we walked that I had been waiting since 9 a.m. for him to arrive. In a nice calm voice. He said he was sorry, in his own soft voice. But he started to look worried. But I still didn't trust I was going to get a truck.
He unlocked the church front door, and in the lobby, took down my cell phone number, so he could go in the office and use the computer (he told me I could not go in that office) and, it turns out, call me with questions regarding the reservation form. So over the next 20 minutes, he called me intermittently to answer questions regarding my reservation so he could complete the contract. At one point he asked me if I needed to hang up because I was using up my minutes...nice guy that he is. I said, no problem, plenty of minutes!
Tom called around this point, letting me know that he and Nathan were taking a breather, after having moved a bunch of boxes. I let him know that it looked like we were going to have a van shortly. I predicted we'd be back at the condo by noon.
Finally, Joe called to say he was printing out the contract. I told the woman and her son that it looked like I was good to go, and thanked them for staying around to make sure we were taken care of. Joe appeared with the contract a few minutes later, and we walked back to the gas station where Kenny was hanging out waiting for me. By 11:15 I was calling Tom to let him know that we were on our way, and hoped to be at the condo by noon.
And by noon, after a drive through downtown DC to Arlington, listening to Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me, we were back at the condo, waiting for Nathan and Tom to open the door to the loading dock, where they had stacked all my boxes....the moving was about to begin!
Fannie Farewell
My farewell note to my colleagues at Fannie Mae, written on August 15, 2008:
Colleagues,
Today is my last day at Fannie. It's been a pleasure to know all of you, whether it was working on the Restatement, Getting/Staying Current, SIR, or the Credit Initiative, or getting to know you as a vendor, or at a Fannie Mae class (more detailed reflections below). I've been very proud to work at this company, and wish you much brighter days in the months ahead!
For those of you who are interested, after September 1 you will find photos of my French adventures posted on my photo site, www.flickr.com/photos/aribrose.
For those of you who are already planning a trip to the south of France, please give me a heads up by writing me at msbrose@alumni.gwu.edu. (address is also good for those who just want to keep in touch).
Cheers,
Margarita
* * *
When I started at Fannie in January 2006, I thought I knew what I was getting into by joining the Central Project Management Office (cPMO) of the Restatement. Company with a mission, good people, big project. Memories I'll take with me:
- A Workstream list that we updated every week - Restatement was a big project, and there were lots of cast changes!
- Free soda, free meals, free water, it couldn't last forever. And it didn't.
- The ePM meeting - the longest running meeting of the Restatement/Getting Current - Tuesdays at 1 - May 2006 through January 2008. That's staying power.
- Almost finishing the Restatement in November 2006 - then REALLY filing on December 6th.
- CUES Reports - what would we have been without them in all their brilliant colors? It took an army to create them, but they were the barometer for the 8 a.m. meetings. Thanks, Jim!
- The COO meeting - the second longest running meetings of the Restatement/Getting Current - Tuesday through Friday, and Mondays, when needed. From May 2006 through March 2008, I managed the meetings, with the help of lots of folks, including David Valenza, Saadia Mahmud, and Teresa Todd, who was there with me faithfully every morning at 7 a.m.
- The SIR Go Live Team Kick Off meeting in OB II in early September 2007. Found myself on the org chart as the "part-time" Director in charge of the PMO. Yeah, piece of cake, I thought. (Three months later, thinking, what was I thinking?)
- November 2007. With this 10Q filing we're current! But the market doesn't seem to notice that fact. What losses?
- Wednesday 11 a.m. SIR Executive Alignment meetings - It wasn't until January, when Rahul and Linda started attending in earnest, that everyone else wanted to be there too....also known as the Williams phenomenon.
- Monday 4 p.m SIR Stakeholder Meetings - see above. Weekly until everyone seemed to be at the Wednesday meeting. But we kept holding them (full transparency!) regularly until the end (well, almost).
- Tuesday 11 a.m. Dashboard Review meetings - otherwise known as Ron's meeting. Always more fun when Ron was in attendance.
- The deflated feeling in the room during the Executive meeting when we all realized that the planned SIR conversion date was simply not possible or practical - twice.
- Working with talented people on a daily basis, who worked hard for inspiring leaders and for their own satisfaction and belief in the mission of the company.
Thank you.
M.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Goodbyes, continued
So it's not like I'm moving to the other side of the world, but France is far enough away for some folks, and really really far away for others, so it depends on your point of view. It's been great to get together with friends to do some goodbyes in the last few weeks. Let me know if I left you out!
July 21 - Don (church)
July 25-26 - John and Gail, Phoebe (NAS)
July 27 - Anna and Yuri, Olena and Peter, also Marcia, Aled and Rhys (church)
July 28 - Tracey (WBC)
July 29 - Laura (RJO)
July 30 - Vivien, Jan and Anna (church)
August 1 - Bogie (FNM)
August 2 - Tom (CC)
August 5 - Bill (church)
August 6 - John (church)
August 7 - Western Church Choir and Deacon Family
August 9 - Steve (CCS)
August 10 - Brose Family (reunion)
August 10 - Andre and Rose (NAS)
August 11 - Michael, Chris and Alex, (IBM) also Vi and various Barnard folk
August 13 - Todd (church), Fannie Mae Restatement Team
August 14 - Fannie Mae DC colleagues
August 15 - Becky, Reuben and Gabriel (Barnard)
August 16-17 - Nancy and Carl, Chris, Kenny, Nathan, Chelsea and Mack (family)
August 19 - Fannie Mae Herndon Team (Tan, Paul, Michael and Bhasker)
August 20 - David (Columbia)
August 21 - Vivien (church), Martina (work)
August 22 - Liran (CC)
August 23 - Tagrid, Ron and Jasmine (neighbors)
August 24 - Tom (CC), Tagrid, Teresa and Angie and Ella (AWSL soccer)
Also, calls with/from Cynthia (Barnard), Andrea (Barnard), and Virginia (church).
Key: NAS - New Amsterdam Singers, CC - Community Club Tutor Group, CCS - Cathedral Choral Society, WBC - Washington Bach Consort, RJO - my ex, Barnard - Barnard College, and my former employers IBM and Fannie Mae
July 21 - Don (church)
July 25-26 - John and Gail, Phoebe (NAS)
July 27 - Anna and Yuri, Olena and Peter, also Marcia, Aled and Rhys (church)
July 28 - Tracey (WBC)
July 29 - Laura (RJO)
July 30 - Vivien, Jan and Anna (church)
August 1 - Bogie (FNM)
August 2 - Tom (CC)
August 5 - Bill (church)
August 6 - John (church)
August 7 - Western Church Choir and Deacon Family
August 9 - Steve (CCS)
August 10 - Brose Family (reunion)
August 10 - Andre and Rose (NAS)
August 11 - Michael, Chris and Alex, (IBM) also Vi and various Barnard folk
August 13 - Todd (church), Fannie Mae Restatement Team
August 14 - Fannie Mae DC colleagues
August 15 - Becky, Reuben and Gabriel (Barnard)
August 16-17 - Nancy and Carl, Chris, Kenny, Nathan, Chelsea and Mack (family)
August 19 - Fannie Mae Herndon Team (Tan, Paul, Michael and Bhasker)
August 20 - David (Columbia)
August 21 - Vivien (church), Martina (work)
August 22 - Liran (CC)
August 23 - Tagrid, Ron and Jasmine (neighbors)
August 24 - Tom (CC), Tagrid, Teresa and Angie and Ella (AWSL soccer)
Also, calls with/from Cynthia (Barnard), Andrea (Barnard), and Virginia (church).
Key: NAS - New Amsterdam Singers, CC - Community Club Tutor Group, CCS - Cathedral Choral Society, WBC - Washington Bach Consort, RJO - my ex, Barnard - Barnard College, and my former employers IBM and Fannie Mae
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Good Byes from Colleagues
Margarita,
Congratulations on your big move to France, what a great idea and wonderful way to enjoy new experiences! You will be missed by all at Fannie, and I would like to thank you again for all your help! You are an excellent leader, mentor, and a great person to work with! Your team will greatly miss your leadership skills and friendship, and I very much enjoyed working with you. Wishing you all the best in years ahead!
MC
* * *
Margarita,
I heard the good news that you were going to live in France! I am so happy for you. When I moved to San Francisco, it was definitely a life changing experience. So I know that you will truly enjoy your new adventure. But on another hand, I am also sad to hear that you are leaving Fannie. It believe it is a tremendous loss for the company. Please keep in touch.
SJ
* * *
To: Brose, Margarita
Subject: What good/bad news
Or make that great, for you!!! France... I am jellie-bellies!! But sad news for us, as you have made a significant (and calming) contribution.
Bon voyage et bon chance!
mk
* * *
I am sorry to hear you are leaving Fannie Mae, it was great having the opportunity to work with you. Good Luck! HR
I echo Homira's comments....you leaving is a big loss to the team. That being said - I am soooo jealous now that I heard you are off to spend some months in France!!! LM
I'm excited for you! Do you know what you'll be doing or will figure it out as you go? I have to live vicariously you know : ) PV
* * *
Just heard that you're leaving! I'm very sad to hear that, but very excited for you! Moving to France sounds fantastic! PC
Subject: Good Bye!
I just heard you were leaving and wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed working with you even if it meant seeing you at 8:00 AM every day. Also, best wishes on your new endeavors overseas! JF
* * *
Subject: Thank you and best wishes...
Hey Margarita,
I believe your last day is this Friday and I am sorry I am not in town to take you out for a drink or 10. I just wanted to thank you for your support this past year. It's been a real pleasure working with you! I also want to wish you the very best in your new adventures! I am very excited for you - it sounds like you will have a wonderful time in France!! I am sure you will have a lot of fun over there... I am still jealous! :)
Best wishes and keep in touch. MD
Congratulations on your big move to France, what a great idea and wonderful way to enjoy new experiences! You will be missed by all at Fannie, and I would like to thank you again for all your help! You are an excellent leader, mentor, and a great person to work with! Your team will greatly miss your leadership skills and friendship, and I very much enjoyed working with you. Wishing you all the best in years ahead!
MC
* * *
Margarita,
I heard the good news that you were going to live in France! I am so happy for you. When I moved to San Francisco, it was definitely a life changing experience. So I know that you will truly enjoy your new adventure. But on another hand, I am also sad to hear that you are leaving Fannie. It believe it is a tremendous loss for the company. Please keep in touch.
SJ
* * *
To: Brose, Margarita
Subject: What good/bad news
Or make that great, for you!!! France... I am jellie-bellies!! But sad news for us, as you have made a significant (and calming) contribution.
Bon voyage et bon chance!
mk
* * *
I am sorry to hear you are leaving Fannie Mae, it was great having the opportunity to work with you. Good Luck! HR
I echo Homira's comments....you leaving is a big loss to the team. That being said - I am soooo jealous now that I heard you are off to spend some months in France!!! LM
I'm excited for you! Do you know what you'll be doing or will figure it out as you go? I have to live vicariously you know : ) PV
* * *
Just heard that you're leaving! I'm very sad to hear that, but very excited for you! Moving to France sounds fantastic! PC
Subject: Good Bye!
I just heard you were leaving and wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed working with you even if it meant seeing you at 8:00 AM every day. Also, best wishes on your new endeavors overseas! JF
* * *
Subject: Thank you and best wishes...
Hey Margarita,
I believe your last day is this Friday and I am sorry I am not in town to take you out for a drink or 10. I just wanted to thank you for your support this past year. It's been a real pleasure working with you! I also want to wish you the very best in your new adventures! I am very excited for you - it sounds like you will have a wonderful time in France!! I am sure you will have a lot of fun over there... I am still jealous! :)
Best wishes and keep in touch. MD
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Anxiety Produces Nothing Good
So, it finally happened. It started with a tickle in the back of my throat, and a few cough clearings, and then that sharp pain that signals that you are in for a cold, whether you like it or not. It started on Friday, and I reconsidered plans for a bike ride on Saturday, but when I woke up on Saturday morning, I really wanted to ride, and the throat didn't seem that bad.
I biked up to the Vienna Metro, about 1o miles, to meet Tom at 8 a.m. We put my bike on the back of his car and drove out to Culpepper, about an hour drive, towards the Shenandoahs on 66 and 15. It was raining pretty hard as we were heading west, and Tom was getting more morose as the minutes ticked by. But I predicted improving weather, and indeed, although we started out in the rain at around 9:30, by the time we rolled back into the Culpepper County HS parking lot at 3:30, it was nearing 90 degrees and sunny. It was a beautiful 60 mile ride through hollows and up and down rolling lanes, in the shadow of Old Rag (a popular hiking mountain).
I felt pretty good throughout the ride, but on the way home, knew I just wanted to crash. And that's what I did when I got home. Got in bed and napped. Was happy I had no plans for this weekend.
But I did have plans! This was the weekend to pack!! And lying there on my bed, surrounded by mounds of clothes, piles of books, file folders of papers and sundry other things that I had pulled out to make visible in preparation for decision-making and either throwing away or packing away, I became depressed. I got up at one point and just shouted swear words at ALL MY STUFF! It's only been four years, but you'd think I'd lived here for forty. I tend to think of myself as someone who doesn't spend money on stuff, but clearly, someone does (I have a very giving family...).
But to be fair, the things I have around me are the things I've had around me for my life, generally, now over 40 years (plus), and many of them are things I want to have here. But as I pack, I realize that there are plenty of things I don't really need. A difficult but important realization!
I've been giving things away, throwing things away. It's a process for me. I like to be organized. But at some point soon, the organization will give way to expediency, and the rest of the stuff will be forced into boxes and hurriedly labeled and taped and thrown into the storage unit--no time to be dainty about it.
OK, time for bed. Need to get better soon. Too much stuff to do!
I biked up to the Vienna Metro, about 1o miles, to meet Tom at 8 a.m. We put my bike on the back of his car and drove out to Culpepper, about an hour drive, towards the Shenandoahs on 66 and 15. It was raining pretty hard as we were heading west, and Tom was getting more morose as the minutes ticked by. But I predicted improving weather, and indeed, although we started out in the rain at around 9:30, by the time we rolled back into the Culpepper County HS parking lot at 3:30, it was nearing 90 degrees and sunny. It was a beautiful 60 mile ride through hollows and up and down rolling lanes, in the shadow of Old Rag (a popular hiking mountain).
I felt pretty good throughout the ride, but on the way home, knew I just wanted to crash. And that's what I did when I got home. Got in bed and napped. Was happy I had no plans for this weekend.
But I did have plans! This was the weekend to pack!! And lying there on my bed, surrounded by mounds of clothes, piles of books, file folders of papers and sundry other things that I had pulled out to make visible in preparation for decision-making and either throwing away or packing away, I became depressed. I got up at one point and just shouted swear words at ALL MY STUFF! It's only been four years, but you'd think I'd lived here for forty. I tend to think of myself as someone who doesn't spend money on stuff, but clearly, someone does (I have a very giving family...).
But to be fair, the things I have around me are the things I've had around me for my life, generally, now over 40 years (plus), and many of them are things I want to have here. But as I pack, I realize that there are plenty of things I don't really need. A difficult but important realization!
I've been giving things away, throwing things away. It's a process for me. I like to be organized. But at some point soon, the organization will give way to expediency, and the rest of the stuff will be forced into boxes and hurriedly labeled and taped and thrown into the storage unit--no time to be dainty about it.
OK, time for bed. Need to get better soon. Too much stuff to do!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
+of+IMG_0522.JPG)
+of+IMG_0505.JPG)
+of+IMG_0495.JPG)
