Out

I did it; seven months to the day after my mom died, I moved out of my house and into my apartment. The house is locked up, empty, and ready for the closing Monday. I didn't even look back when we drove away because I was too busy not crashing the Penske truck.

I don't have a home anymore. Funny how I spent so much time trying to get my mom to leave that house, and then trying to leave it myself these past months, and now I'm finally done. For better or for worse I'll never set foot in there again. I used to think, the way all kids do, that I'd always have a room there, that my mom would never make me pack up my things so she could turn it into another den or something. Now that's gone, and my grandfather's house is gone without me ever even having been inside it again, and those were the only two homes I ever knew. Sean promised me tonight that we'll have a home again together, and I know we will, but I can never get back the feeling of security that comes from being in your parents' house.

I won't even begin to catalogue the number of fiascos we had the past two days; they're all over and done with, thank god. Now all that's left is for everyone to inquire politely about how moving out went, and say "oh, good!" when I tell them everything was OK. Sean told me that I can't expect anyone else to understand exactly how hard this was, and I know I can't. I just hate the way everyone seems to think it's been so easy, like it was nothing I couldn't handle. I hate that I had to do this. I hate that I've spent so much time this year just being anxious about my to-do list. I hate that I had to be the one to handle everything because my sister washed her hands of it. I hate that I had to be the responsible one. I hate it that she died and left me here. Most of all I hate that I can't even cry about this in my own damn room, because here come Sarah and Carla up the stairs, laughing about some bollywood movie crap, and if they see I'm crying, I'm sure they'll be very concerned and ask what's wrong, but they won't understand, because they can't understand. And I'm tired of being strong and making it through. I want to be beyond this.

Uplift

I wasn't wrong; it has been an extremely stressful period since my last post. I did find a new apartment last Wednesday, in Shelton; this past Sunday I went by to pick up my keys and put down a deposit. My roommate is in her 30s, I think, and a professor of counseling at the University of Bridgeport. Her name is Cicely. We haven't even met yet, but the landlord, Jamie (who's cute, but as his mom mentioned Sunday, has a girlfriend) said she's one of the nicest people he's ever met. I liked the apartment, as it was all recently redone inside when Jamie bought the house, and what especially drew me was the extra, empty room that Jamie said would work well as a den--which was awesome, because I have my giant desk plus six boxes' worth of books to put somewhere, and they're sure as hell not fitting in the actual bedroom. Plus this apartment is only 20 minutes from my place of work and $110 cheaper a month than the place in Meriden. I was sold.

Another huge point of stress last week was trying to figure out what I'm going to do with that damned dining room set. I put it on craigslist, but I could only be there to show it on Saturday, so even though I did get a few people who came over, no one took the bait. I wasn't willing to sell it for peanuts or split the set, especially for the guy who told me that $1000 was a lot to pay for something his kid's just going to beat up. Well, sir, that's why I'm not interested in lowering the price for a bumpkin like you. I had also tried auction places in the area, one of whom offered to come appraise it but only during the week, when I couldn't be there. Finally, I thought of offering it to the sisters to use as a big-ticket item at their yearly tag sale, the sale where I've always found such great stuff. So I called Sister St. Henry on Saturday and proposed the idea; she wasn't sure if they're still having one this year, so I also told her that if they'd just like to have it, maybe for one of the hundred sitting rooms they seem to have spread out in that place, I would love to give it to them. And she left me a voicemail this morning saying they'll take it!

Physically getting is there, however, is another matter, especially since that giant hutch has to be disassembled before it can be moved. I solved this problem by hiring movers for next Saturday, both to move me to Shelton and to drop off the set in West Hartford. If not for the set I really wouldn't have needed movers; I have a total of 24 boxes, a small bureau, my desk, my bedside table, my oriental cabinet, and a TV. Not even my bed is coming, since there's already a bigger one at my new apartment. But there was no way, even with help from the guys here, that we could have moved that set without damaging it, and it really is such a nice set. Everyone asks me why I don't want it "for the future"--well, hello, first of all, where the hell would I keep it, and secondly, if I have a dining room set, I want one that invites my friends and family to use it, not one that's beautiful yet untouchable.

Let's see....crisis number 3 or 4 was disposing of all of the furniture and household items that I'm not taking and which had not been donated to Betty and Alan in January. I was contemplating the ugly idea of making a dozen runs to Goodwill when, lo and behold, I did manage to find their number on freecycle. I marked all the furniture they could have, which included my bed and another of my grandpa's desks, along with that giant table with the bench that was our play-table years ago, and amassed a heap of items that covered the whole living room floor. Mrs. Long, busybody that she is, was very suspicious of them, since for two preachers who work as home health care aides, they drive a BMW wagon. In all likelihood someone gave it to them, but she remained sniffy. She wasn't there when Betty came back with her sister and two nieces, when they got ecstatic over the idea that they now had a coffeemaker, a telephone, and a VCR. That was no feigned enthusiasm--these were just people who hadn't had the things we all ridiculously take for granted.

So, as of 9am yesterday when they brought a UHaul for the furniture and Mrs. Long, against her better judgment, I'm sure, let them in, there is nothing left inside the house besides the dining room set and what I'm taking--not a plate, not a towel. Which of course brings me to crisis number 5--the garage. I had secretly planned to leave the garage as is and let the next people deal with it. I had even put in the contract that I was willing to leave everything there--of course the realtor put this in as "negotiable," which really means nada. I just dreaded the idea of having to clean out a garage, especially in the extremely limited time I had left, when I was still trying to figure out where I'd be living, what to do with the dining room set and my mom's van, etc etc. Unfortunately, when I met the buyer--and I did, although I never wanted to--she made clear that she expected the garage to be completely emptied.

Mind you, when I met this woman (and her three kids) I was trying to pack up all my belongings by myself, as plumbers and electricians ranged around me, drilling holes and making mysterious "upgrades" that my realtor had OKed but which Mrs. Long insisted--to the buyer's realtor's face--were illegal. I had planned on a stressful but calm Saturday of packing, and instead I got the Ringling Bros. Circus, and listening to this awful woman tell me that, oh no, we're just going to rip out all those carpets (OK, I acknowledge that I, too, prefer hardwood and would probably do the same when I move into a house, but it's different for me knowing my mom put those brand-new carpets in a year ago, and this little beast is just walking in and changing everything. Can you tell I hate her?) The other realtor knew all about my "situation" and I hated my realtor for telling him. Hello, then they had a giant green sign that said "SHE NEEDS TO SELL!" Of course they knew they could play hardball then. I wish we could have sold the house to Alan and Betty, even though I doubt they could have ever afforded it--they were always so openly admiring of how beautiful the house was, and even though I don't think it's such a prize, I was flattered. The buyers, they don't deserve that house. Sean and I were joking that maybe, if we're lucky, my dad will haunt them.

So now I've enumerated all the reasons that I wanted to rip my hair out this past week. Of course, in addition to all this house business there's always school work, too, and that only added to the insanity. But it's all looking up now. I'm done with two of three final papers, and tomorrow will present in Buddhist art class, thus officially ending my participation. Friday Sean and I are heading up to clean out the garage, take everything to the dump, pick up the moving van, and bring my mom's car to New Haven where we can donate it to the Easter Seals. Saturday morning at 8am sharp, two guys from "2 Young Studs Moving, LLC" will be moving my things and the dining room set. Monday the 30th is the closing--I've cancelled all our utilities for that date, and I'm evilly hoping they forget to arrange for them so that they have no power. Muaahaha.

Everything is working out. I'm thankful.

Everyone Makes Fun of the English Major, But...

Actually I don't have much of a comeback for that. Anyway, last night was the English Awards night. I didn't win either the poetry or lit crit awards (although I have to acknowledge that the girl who won the poetry award is an excellent writer), and for some reason I was about the only senior who was inducted into the honor society, Sigma Tau Delta (or STD, as Sean helpfully pointed out)this year instead of last year. That was kind of an embarassing oversight; it's supposed to be the top third of all English majors in each year, and I have about a perfect GPA in my English major. I didn't even think about it until they named all of last year's juniors who were inducted and I realized it was virtually everyone else. Embarassing.

Anyway, so yeah, this was all made good by the final award, which went to me and Lauren as "Best Senior English Majors of 2007." It wasn't the award itself, but what Dr. Bayer and Dr. Bridgford said about me that was a definite boost for a slightly deflated pride--my favorite snippet was Dr. Bridgford saying I was the "ideal student" and one of the best students she'd worked with in 25 years. I seriously considered asking Dr. Bayers for a copy of the remarks to read to myself when I'm depressed. Haha.

Oh yes, in other news, the housing deal is going through, but I have to move out by April 30th. Um, awesome, except that's two weekends from now, and I'm finding a different apartment to live in because the house in Meriden was going to be way too far away from my job. Sigh. Going up this weekend to work on boxing stuff up, but there's still the dining room set to dispose of, and the car, and all the furniture I can't take, and of course I lost Betty and Alan's number. It's going to be an extremely stressful couple of weeks.

Another Fifteenth of April

Here it is, year number seven; not much different than the others, really, except I'm more alone now than I was last year. Today is our induction to Phi Beta Kappa, and though I'm now not the only one whose parents aren't coming, due to the awful rain, I wish so much that I could look out at the audience and see their faces. Out of the wedding picture I keep on my desk, they're all gone--my parents, my grandparents, my nana that I never knew anyway. It feels like there's no one left to call anymore. No one to be proud of me who's not my friends or Sean. There's Jen, of course, and she tries, but it's not the same.

Today I miss them both so badly it hurts. It's just not fair.

Looking Back

Wow, I just looked at my posts for the month of April last year, JELOSO! April was such a fun month! Heather came, and so did spring, and the big cart blew up on Easter, and we went to Siena and Cortona and Ravenna again. God, it was such a good time. I miss the four of us cooking dinner in our apartment, the long, leisurely meals together because we had nothing else to do.

On a more ironic note, in one of my entries I mentioned how sad I was that my mom was alone around this time of year. Little did I guess that she wouldn't live to see another of his anniversaries. But they're together now. It's a happier thought.

Why Don't I Update More Often?

I always forget, or I'm too tired when I do remember. Luckily right now I feel perky and energetic--there's so much going on, but a lot of really good things have been happening, too. Probably most important: I got a job! The only one I had interviewed for, actually, at a law firm in Stratford. I'll be an administrative assistant. Not something I would ever want to do long-term, but it'll pay the bills until I go to grad school. When I applied they asked for a salary requirement and I said $32,000, because it seemed like an OK figure, and they said they'd pay me $33,000, so good deal! Best of all, besides the two weeks vacation, is that I don't have to pay anything extra for medical insurance. That'll save me a ton.

So I will be living in Meriden and commuting about 45 minutes to Stratford. I have to get rid of the Tahoe, alas...briefly I considered backing out of living with Rachel and trying to find somewhere closer to Stratford, but for $750 a month all inclusive, in a nice little house with friendly people, can I be sure I'd find anything that sweet in New Haven?

It's also award season, and everyone has been racking them up like candy canes around here. I'm proudly sharing the Art History award with Meredith! I'm also sharing the English award with someone, I don't know who, and I found out today I'm getting the Women's Studies Alumni award for a paper I wrote on why Betty Friedan's Feminine Mystique idea really doesn't hold water. Sweet. This weekend is the Phi Beta Kappa induction, which I missed last year due to being blissfully abroad. Sigh. What a lifetime ago that seems.

Meanwhile, the deal on the house seems to be going forward; we're entering the final stages of haggling. Fingers crossed. Over the Easter break I stopped by to try to pack up some of my things, and it was just so ennervating to be in that empty, listless house by myself. My room is really the only room that still has much in it, and it was depressing to try and pack that into a box. But on the plus side, I spent a couple of fun nights with Sara, and had breakfast with her, Heather and Cody at Dom's (their first time)--the last time we'll see each other before emerging on the world as freshly graduated adults.

Actual Easter was a great time too--I spent Saturday and Sunday nights at Sean's. Saturday we went to Linda's friend Phillip's condo, which was absolutely magnificent: if I ever had lots of money and a decorator that's what my house would look like too, except I could never keep it so neat. Phillip is gay, I'm sure that has something to do with it. :-) We played an interesting type of poker where every hand was dealer's choice, and Gary seemed to know every game ever invented. Surprisingly, no one really was familiar with texas hold'em, which is the only type of poker I know, so it was a learning experience for all. We played with quarters, and yes, I lost. Easter dinner was a good time; Sal and Alice, Gary's parents, were there, along with his brother Joe. Sean has such a mixed family, whereas mine was always just DiMarzos...there was just a certain flavor about our family get-togethers that I really miss.

Last night in the mall I mentioned to Sean how much I missed my mom, and he said that he really misses her too. It's so comforting to know that he knew her, the real her, like I did, and that even when I forget he'll be there to help me remember.