Adventure!

I have discovered why people get married . . . or at least co-habituate.

Because nothing in my home is fixable by one person . . . and the jobs are so gross that two people have to be personally invested. And more invested than, say, "oh, I might have sex with this person".

Today I am working on my furnace. I am covered in water, something that I hope is silt but I think is ooze, and basic filth. It's like I fell in a sewer.

I went to India. I left my house for three weeks. When I came home my "whole house" humidifier, which I have never, ever used because it was disgusting and I just left it turned "off, was leaking. Dripping out of a hole that I did not know existed. And things were wet . . . my furnace was wet-ish and upon inspection sorta rusty (so maybe not a new problem), the floor was wet . . . so I got a bucket. And I waited. And the bucket filled and the floor stayed wet. Not a good sign.

So I looked up how much a new furnace and air conditioner are . . . which while maybe necessary at this point, is much more than I have at the moment. And the thought "My mother told me not to go to India" runs through my head. So I decide to monkey with the humidifier.

I take the top off. I did this yesterday. I even put some bleach into the murky water. An act that I am thankful for today. Today I decide to follow the instructions that are listed in the area you see when you take the top off. Today I decide to take the bottom off the unit. Taking the bottom off? A one person job.

And first I think about just using a shop vac to hose out all the water . . . and proceed to make a huge mess checking what is in the shop vac only to decide that it is too much trouble to clean the it order to make it ready to for water so that I don't make cement instead. So mess no. one.

So I decide to take the bottom tray off of the humidifier to inspect where the large amount of water is coming from. Could this all be condensation? I don't even think my furnace has a condensation pump . . . it just has a hose that inconveniently goes to the drain. I pull off the clips.

And water explodes everywhere. The water to the humidifier, which I was sure was turned off, because the value would not move . . . and quite frankly I had NOT turned it on . . . and this hasn't happened for five years . . . the water was turned on. So water is spraying everywhere and I drop the tray so the murky, yucky stuff goes everywhere. I figure out there is a float, which turns the water off . . . but I have to get the bottom tray back on, so I can contain the flow of water . . . so I can turn the water off . . .

And putting the tray back on? It is a two person job. One person to hold the tray in place and one person to put the clips (which are grooved) back into place. And everyone is at work. And I am covered in gross five year old water. I manage to get the tray back on after several tray droppings and I manage getting the water turned off. I then take the tray off again . . . and drop it AGAIN to make sure the water is really turned off.

As far as I can tell, the float must have been stuck? Anyhow, we will see if I fixed the problem. And I'm letting the shop vac mess dry now before I clean it up. And I'll just take another shower.

But it really would have been helpful if someone else was invested in the "oh my god I have to fix the leaky furnace" problem. Gotta go. I'm still sick and now wet.

Home

I am home . . . and while I don't think I can be very far from a toilet for a bit, that is much easier in the US.

After falling into an unconscious state for five hours, I gathered myself, put on some SHOES (only had damn sandals for three weeks . . . I'm such a dumb a$$), and drove to Taco Bell. Such a weird almost disconcerting feeling being the only car on the road at 10 pm. Where are all the people in case I fall in a hole? But there are no giant random holes here and the roads are well lit and I'm only going to Taco Bell.

I immediately convert my total into rupees, thinking that 1450 rupees is an outrageous price for dinner, especially without three courses. The women in the drive-thru are confused by my hands and think I have wicked tattoos. I have forgotten about the Mendi and then have to try to explain it . . . which is ironically much like the scenes from the last three weeks where everyone looked at me mystified. They finally get that the marks are temporary ("but they look so real!") and off I go again into the empty streets. The whole food run took maybe 10 minutes, instead of the usual three hours that has been my life for three weeks. And I didn't even have to ask for the bill.

I have to fall unconscious again. Maybe I will get some pictures up tomorrow.

In Two Days

In two days, I will be leaving for India. The Spider Monkey is accompanying. It should be the trip of a lifetime.

And yes, I know I have bunny ears in the picture.

So I set up a new blog for the trip . . . because I wanted to try out the competition, and really it is a separate thing.

spidermonkeyandems.wordpress.com

Hopefully, I will be able to update from the hotels, late at night. We will see.

I am already struggling with the fact that I may be too high maintenance . . . I am the one who wants the five star hotel at the end, I am the one signing up for the Skyclub Membership because I don't want to sit in the airport or more specifically, I want to sit in the nice part of the airport with the cookies, the "free" soda, and the nice people who can also afford to sit there. I'm definitely a "flashpacker" not a backpacker. And I have a feeling this is going to be a dirty vacation. (I did go for eight days without a shower on a "tall ships" trip)

And then I loop to "who cares?" and I'm fine. I'll bring home lots of pictures. I get to ride a camel. All Yayness. So check it out.

Because Nothing will be Easy

I am leaving for India in a week and a half.

And today was a good example of my preparation for the trip.

Several months ago, I went to a "travel doctor" at a significant cost to myself to make sure that I would be ready to go what is considered a third world country. They handed me a printout of the risks of going to India (something I could have printed off the internet myself . . . but hey, I didn't have a working printer then), tested me for resistance to Mumps, Measles, Rubella and Chicken Pox (I was NOT resistant to Measles. Good to know), gave me several vaccinations and two prescriptions, and sent me on my way. They refused to give me a rabies vaccination (a bad plan, considering the chance of me being bitten by a monkey) (and if anyone could be bitten by a monkey, it would be me). Oh, and charged me a good bit of money.

One of the prescriptions was for Cipro. The other, Larium . . . or mefloquine. Now Larium is known for it's bad side effects. There are websites dedicated to stories of lives ruined by Larium. The nurse said it was all bad press, but it's a little disturbing that I have to carry a card in my wallet. And I am the queen of bad side effects, especially with medications where there are little known side effects. So I'm hoping since there are lots of KNOWN side effects, I'll take Larium and nothing will happen. Just like thousand of other people. (The dreams are supposed to be very, very vivid)

So yesterday I decide it is time to fill these prescriptions. I have to take my first dose of Larium on Saturday to be ready in case a mosquito decides to feast on me. I drop off my prescriptions at my "local pharmacy" which is a Target relatively near my house. 20 minutes later they call. My insurance company has denied one of my prescriptions. Cool. I'm still in the store. I come back to the pharmacy for clarification.

I need 9 pills. One week ahead of my trip. Four Saturdays during my trip. Four Saturdays after my trip. My insurance will only pay for four pills - a 30 day supply. I will have to call them for an "override" as I will still be in India when I need a fifth pill. Okay. Sounds reasonable.

And here is where it goes wrong . . . sounds reasonable . . . sounded reasonable to mail my passport to get a visa too . . . should be easy . . .

Next morning, call my insurance company and explain my situation. Nice lady puts me on hold for a long time. No problem. Just have the doctor call. We'll give you an override. This takes me fifteen minutes.

Call the travel medicine place. Remember, I paid them a good bit of money for them to give me a printout and a pamphlet. I explain my situation. I only need five bills, a seven day override. I get fifteen minutes of interrogation about why I didn't fill these prescriptions several months ago and why I didn't know that insurance companies don't fill prescriptions for more than thirty days. I was supposed to telepathically know that I was supposed to walk out of their office and fill my prescriptions two months early . . . so I could get a refill (for the drugs I had not yet used) the next month.

This conversation was very much like the one where I was supposed to telepathically know that the visa company was going to send my passport "no signature required" and that I should send my own airbill if I didn't want stuff just dumped on my porch (maybe . . . if it even got to my porch).

Finally, despite my lack of telepathic skills, the nurse agrees to call for me. She almost immediately calls me back. "Your insurance company says you need a signed form from your employer for a vacation waiver." So my insurance company will not pay for one additional malaria med without a note from my employer . . . but they will pay when I come down with malaria?

And my employer? I didn't even bother. Everyone who knows anything was forced to retire and everyone else is on vacation. I work for a school district and it is the month of July. Good luck with contacting them.

So I pay for the fifth pill on my own. A pill that will possibly give me vivid nightmares of animals and people killing me. All for 13.99. I hear college kids pay much more than that for other stuff that does the same thing.

As I drove to pick them up . . . after finding every prescription in my house, so that my insurance company could pay for those . . . I thought to myself "nothing about this trip has been easy".

So hopefully, once I get there, India will be a beautiful relaxing feast for my senses. Elephants and nice happy monkeys that do not bite me. Bright colors and yummy lassi. And shopping like I have never known.

I have a passport. I have a visa. I have five anti-malarial pills.

I have a hat that you can squash into a little-bitty circle. It will be fine . . .

Yay! Summer.

So much excitement!

I downloaded the new iphone operating system, thanks to my father, who called after reading about it in the Wall Street Journal. It IS better. He really should not feed my addiction.

I'm hopefully going to Chicago to solve our "visa problem" i.e. (name withheld) didn't deliver them. Called (name also withheld) with my list of questions and was told that all would be "no problem". Very casual, the Chicago (name withheld) customer service people. And again was told that missing passports . . ."that never happens" . . . and suppressed my urge to scream into the phone "but IT DID HAPPEN!" Therefore, they cannot use the word "never" anymore. They can use almost never . . . they can use seldom . . . but "never happens" doesn't work any more. But I told her to have a nice day instead.

Look children! This is why monopolies are BAD!

And I finally, after much hand wringing, moaning and reading endlessly "cnet" web reviews, bought a camera this afternoon. A Nikon P60, which I purchased for under $100. Yeah, yeah, yeah, it runs on AA batteries . . . but it has a viewfinder and a manual setting and a 5x optical zoom. And I could have spend the $229 on the Canon Powershot SX110 but I have to go to Chicago and I probably shouldn't sleep on the street. So the Nikon P60 will have to do. I think it's cute actually and just big enough to feel like a "real" camera and yet small enough to fit in my purse. "George" the Nikon D80 has not been invited on the India trip, due to his size.

And I started a new sweater yesterday. The pattern is simple to the point that I might find it boring, but so far it has been good television knitting. And now that I have a DVR I can watch "Venture Brothers" and knit away anytime I want. Love it.

Multi-tasking

I just finished talking on my phone, while typing this IN MY LIVING ROOM and having the possibility of recording four shows at once and then watching them in my bedroom. I heart AT&T right at this moment.

And I think I can use their wireless at Starbucks for free now, but don't quote me on that. The install guy told me that I can type this out in my backyard too . . . so maybe I need to fix up my backyard and get some hammocks or something. Yes, multiple hammocks . . . so my friends and family can sit too.

Unfortunately, this means I'm going to have to buy stuff. Or more stuff, as I just purchased an iphone. New television and a new computer. But now I don't have to get that wireless router that I have been lovingly stroking at the Best Buy. I just have to get the Passport drive or Mybook, or whatever they are called, so I can transfer all that music on my office dinosaur. I could make my office a "real" guestroom. With just guest stuff. (I know. I'm dreaming. I have way too much stuff.)

So good first day of summer so far . . . don't want to jinx it, so knock wood. My actually government passport came in the mail today, signed for and everything and I have new wireless and a DVR for ten dollars less a month. YAY!

Beware the Mothers' Network

My mother would say this to me as a teenager . . . "beware the mothers' network" . . . which really meant that she had informants and snitches everywhere.

And the mothers' network has taken hold at work. Now I just have to ride it out.

Eleven more days left.

What an end to a terrible year.

You Have RUINED My Life

The yearbooks came in today. In keeping with tradition, after I had the administration approve them, I passed them out to seniors. I passed out yearbooks from 3 pm to 3:30 pm. At 3:34 pm I had two complaints on my voicemail and one complaint on email.

The theme of the complaints? It's their SENIOR YEAR. How dare I mess things up. They can't be fixed because it's the SENIOR YEAR. There is no next year for my son/daughter. Nothing can happen to them now. They cannot appreciate their yearbook/memory ad because of that "o" instead of an "e".

I think I handled them all with grace and refunds, lots of refunds but I'm amazed at the claims. It's as though they are fruit flies or something. Their lives are going to end in three days . . . when senior year is over and how dare I make it not perfect.

Notice I say "I" because in the parent's minds it is MY fault. I misspelled their offspring's name ON PURPOSE and I must be stopped. And punished. Severely.

And I shouldn't let it bother me. But I could never, ever work in customer service. Because I would cry all the time. Because I ruin people's lives . . . with yearbooks.

I haven't even passed them out to the underclassmen yet.

Saturday Projects Solo

I had the evening to myself last night . . . Spider Monkey had to work super early this morning and therefore wanted to go to bed super early. So I rented "Twilight" and bought some ice cream and had a very nice time. "Slumdog Millionare" will be showing this evening in my living room, perhaps with some more mint chocolate chip.

I need to do some yardwork. I think I didn't mulch last year? But it is resulting in some killer weeds. And I want to paint the part of my window that is yellowing . . . actually browning . . . as I think it would make my house look so much nicer.

My parents, very sweetly, called at 8:30 am to tell me that they were at IKEA but it didn't seem like they wanted to wait for me to wake up, let alone get there to buy my cabinets.

And I have to go out to their house to get my birth certificate as the passport agency is open on Saturdays! But I feel funny going without SM . . . they were lost/stolen together, seems like they should be applied for together. Yes, I have a police report and everything. It has been an extremely fun week.

To read about the passport nightmare - I have a thread on "indiamike" which is a travel forum for people going to India. It is really very informative and how I know about the "touts" and toliets. So read here: http://tiny.cc/iRyQL It's all sorts of fun and expense!

Oh, and I think I want to buy an iphone. I could blog more.

You Gotta Read This!

Okay, so I haven't written in FOREVER . . . still teaching, still can't tell Spider Monkey stories, my hair is a semi-normal color and I'm going to India this summer. Yes. India. Because I want to . . .

Anyhow, instead of going into my nightmare of a Passport/Visa story . . . because I'm just too bitter . . . you should read this:

http://blog.pamandphil.com

Because I love it so much I want to marry it. Or maybe just marry Pam and Phil . . . or maybe just Pam, but only in certain states. Anyhow, it is how I hope my "Ems and Spider Monkey go to India" blog will be.

The Festival of Outsideness

This weekend, I went to a "winter festival". I won't tell you what winter festival because I just got a memo at work with the 13 things that I should NOT EVER talk about (let alone write about . . . writing is forever, talking . . . it melts into the air and conjecture) and the winter "blank" festival seems to fit items 1, 4, 9 and 11.

So the winter "blank" festival was in Grand Rapids, which is a trek for me . . . three hours by car. Actually three hours to my sister's house to sleep and then another hour to the winter "blank" festival. It was at Comstock Park (?) the little baseball stadium in Grand Rapids. Now I heard stadium and winter and in my brain I thought, "Cool! They found a place big enough to have it inside." Wrong. So very, very wrong. Silly Emily.

The winter "may or may not be an alcoholic beverage" festival was in the PARKING LOT of the stadium. Let's just say, I would have dressed differently. Very differently. And the person that I dragged across the state? Yeah. He would have dressed differently too.

So first there is the line around the stadium. I don't know what it is . . . but there is always an ENORMOUS line at the festival. In the summer it wraps around the block, in the winter it wraps around the stadium. And the people behind us? Had already "festivalled" if you know what I mean. So the very loud, kinda slurry conversation was interesting.

Inside . . . well not "inside" . . . once we were inside the gates, it was cold. And the liquid we were drinking was cold. And the ground was wet, which made my feet cold. Thank God Dave didn't need his hat! So the lines to get stuff were cold and the lines to the bathroom more cold. And when you have to go to the bathroom and you are waiting in 20 degree weather for 30 minutes to go in a porta potty? Bleak. Oh, and there was a bonfire. And when I was assured that there was a bonfire, I was picturing "burning man" huge pile of flame as big as a house. Nope. We have had fires in my parents backyard that were bigger.

So next year, not so much about the winter festival . . . or am wearing a snowmobile suit. I'm not sure which. They really should advertise the "outside" part better. Maybe make it part of the name. The Winter _______ Festival of Outsideness? The Very Outside Winter __________ Festival? I don't know. But I should have been warned.

If Only it Were Easy

I am feeling like a doormat. And I don't do doormat well. At least that's what I tell myself.

So I'm going to go out. Get out of this house. And not answer the phone. My father told me to be patient, but my patience is waning today. Better to not say anything at all. Instead, just pick up all the cashews. Eventually, go play somewhere else.

Today I typed, "so I choose not to be upset". I wish, really wish, that I was doing a better job of that right at this moment.