A Valued Inventory

I spent my lovely Tuesday of sunny 80 degree weather in my apartment.

"Why?" you ask...

Well, for starters, 80 is too hot.  Seriously.  If I go outside and come in 5 minutes later sweating, it's too hot.  And as much as I love doing laundry, I'm not doing 6 loads a day because every time I go and come in I have to change my clothes.

I happily enjoyed the weather by looking out the windows, which probably would have served to cool my apartment down a wee bit more had they been open all the way.  BUT since Germans have not invented screens that work yet (read "think a piece of netting that you tape onto your window is a screen"), I have to keep the windows tilted (read "only open 4 inches at the top and slanting inward") so that my kitties don't escape into the scary streets of Dresden.

Also, I have lists of things to get done, all of which are still NOT done, as I have become an expert procrastinator.

One of those things is our Valued Inventory- a fun little spread sheet that details the value of all the goods to be shipped back to the US.

Doesn't sound too bad, right?

WRONG.  In every way.

This lovely spread sheet is about 43 (okay, maybe 2) pages long.  Divided into section by room.  Lists all objects you might own that would be present in each room along with space for the number of items, cost of items, color and approximate dimension (okay, those last two are exaggerations...).  Keep in mind when completing the spreadsheet that any items of dissimalar value should be listed separately.  SERIOUSLY?

Can't I just say "kitchen- $3000" and call it done?

So I have dilligently walked through each room in my house making tick marks and unreadable notes about items on scrap paper so that I can come back to the spread sheet, look at the paper, wonder "what the heck does this mean?" and go back and do it all another couple times before finally writing down numbers of and values of all the things I have.

This is one of those times when I wish I had less things.

5 hours, 1 headache, a quick nap, and 2 freak outs later, I think its done.

YAY!


ps.

Dear Shipping people,

I have completed my valued inventory to the best of my ability.  I did not, however, find it necessary to count the number of pairs of underwear or socks I own and group them by similar value.  I'm pretty sure they all came from Target anyway.  And I just guessed how much they cost.  Also, after looking up all the electronic equipment we own on bestbuy.com and officedepot.com, I decided that we don't have that great of stuff.  So I might have rounded up a bit to get the next best model in case the ship carrying our stuff sinks.  That doesn't happen very often anyway, right?  And for the record, we don't even have a dishwasher, and if we did, we wouldn't be shipping it home; if we owned a "portable radio" I wouldn't even write it down because it would probably be more valuable as a doorstop; I am not a writer and certainly don't own a typewriter; and what about sofas? I'm pretty sure everyone has a sofa...

Thank you for wasting 5 hours of my life.  Just for that, I hope the ship sinks because after completing your stupid form, I think I'd much rather have the chunk of money than all my things.  In fact, why don't you save yourselves a couple days of work and just leave our stuff here and write us a check?

Sincerely,

Kris.

I'm Here!!

I made it safe and sound to NH.  Of course, I couldn't arrive on time at 7:00pm as planned, my plane didn't get there until 11:30 which made for a pretty long day of traveling.

Upon arriving at the airport, I checked in, went through security and was sitting happily at my gate munching on apples and reading my kindle when an airline attendent came over and told us all that the plane to Munich was simply "broken" and was cancelled.  So we all trudged down into the baggage claim, claimed our bags, went back upstairs, stood in the hour long line (and I was only 4 people from the front) and made new travel plans.

Unfortunately, my travel plans re-routed me through Dulles- my LEAST favorite airport EVER because of their crazy "mobile lounges" and long lines and disorganization.  I've never successfully or easily boarded a plane or made a connection in Dulles.  BUT, I did want to get home to Boston.

Crazily, from sitting on the plane, taxiing at Dulles at 8:45 - just 50 minutes before my next flight - I managed to get off the plane, walk down the mile long corridor to customs, get my passport checked, claim my bag, get my bag checked through customs, re-check my bag, run through the airport to the nearest flight listing board 10 gates away, check my flight, and scramble to my gate BEFORE IT EVEN STARTED BOARDING.  Amazing.  I may have to rethink my opinion of Dulles... or only travel through Dulles after 8:30pm.

So I successfully got on my third flight of the day and made it home to Boston.  An hour and fifteen minute car ride later, I was home in my house petting my ridiculously fluffy cat, and an hour after that, I was happily sleeping (at what I felt like was 7:00am!!).

Needless to say, today was a day of taking it easy.  Though I did bring my sketchbook in case of creative inspiriation.  Sure enough, I was fascinated with my sister's angelfish who has survived an angelfish-on-angelfish attack.

Here are some quick sketches.  Maybe fish drawings will be my new obsession after alphabet books!!

Austria Trip, Austria Trip, Austria Trip...

For those of you out there who love to travel, I don't know what's wrong with you!  Maybe I need lessons or something, but it never fails... a few days before any impending vacation, I flip out.

The days prior to any vacation look like this:

"What is our hotel going to be like? Do we need our own towels? Is there a coffee machine?"
"How does the bus work?  How late does it run? What if I can't figure out how to get places?"
"What is there to do there?  How much does it cost? How long does it take??"
"What is there to eat? What food should I bring? What clothes do I pack?"

And an hour later I'm sitting in front of the computer with 10 browser windows open, each with at least 5 tabs, trying to find every site on the internet with information about the place I'm going.

I sit and make a list of all the things we need to do, how much they cost, where they are, how to get there, why it's cool.

Then I take that list and try to make a schedule- not just a general schedule- down to the minute.

And still, as I'm traveling to my destination, I have my pen out and I'm scribbling things in the margins and crossing things out.

When I get there, I go to the tourist office, find all their information, make another list, make another schedule, cross-reference it with the first schedule, and finally... I'm ready for the vacation.

EXCEPT... I forgot thing 1 and thing 2, which I immediately must find a store to purchase in case they are needed.  AND, its colder/warmer than I thought, so all those clothes I packed, well, they aren't going to do any good because I will wear the same thing every day so that by the time I return home I will stink.  ALSO, I didn't realize that half the things on my list actually don't fit into the schedule because it takes longer to get to the places than I thought or their opening times have changed but they didn't put it on the website.

SO...

I might as well have not done any of the prep-work because we pretty much wing it once we're there... finding things to do as we walk past them or because some other tourist mentions them to us.  I shouldn't have packed a suitcase because I only wear what I had on when I arrived and bought any other necessities, AND, I've already ruined my schedule with so many scribbles and foldings and unfoldings and somehow dropping  it in a puddle that even if I wanted to use it, it's useless.

Why, then, do I continue to torture myself?  Maybe it's the thought that eventually, all that work is going to pay off... Maybe it's because in the back of my mind, my subconscious doesn't like to travel and is trying to put me off of planning any more trips... Maybe I'm just crazy...


Saturday we leave for Austria.

At this moment, I have already made my first list and my first schedule, and revised them twice.  I have a map with so many stars and circles and highlighted things that I don't even know what's what.  There is a pile the size of Mt. Everest in my guest room of stuff we need to bring.  I will go shopping today to buy everything else that is on my 3 page list of stuff we need to bring and don't have yet.

Tomorrow I will pack everything, think that I forgot some items that are checked off on my 10 page list (but maybe I checked them off by accident), unpack everything, repack everything, decide on a few more things to bring (which will require me to unpack and repack again so that everything fits into my allotted number of bags), and make a list of all the things I need to remember to do before we leave (like take out the trash and turn off the lights).

Saturday I will wake up and inevitably feel the need to unpack and repack one more time, just to make sure we have everything.  We will leave and follow my "things to do before we leave check off list" but I will feel like I left the stove on and have to come back in to check.  Then we will start driving, but I will forget something really important like my sunglasses and we will have to turn around and come back to get them.  Then we'll leave again, but I'll feel like I didn't lock the door and I'll have to go back and check.

I will probably spend the whole vacation staring out of my apartment window at the Alps.  Maybe I will venture onto the ski slopes.  But after all that planning, I just need a relaxing vacation!!

What? No Cake Mix?

I happen to love cake.  Birthday cake specifically... not that I would refuse other types of cake, its just that birthday cakes are my favorite.  They have to be the round ones, two layers, that you cut into wedges.  Those are the best.  And none of those store-made ones, they have to be homemade.  But not really homemade, homemade from a box.  Like Pillsbury, or Duncan Hines, or Betty Crocker.  With that frosting that comes in the little round canisters.  Those types of cake are the best.

Early this week, I was commissioned to make a birthday cake for one of our friends.

hopefully it will be a cute alligator cake.
This alligator is a little scary.

"No problem!"  I thought.  "I'll just take out my handy-dandy cake mix and some oil and a couple eggs, mix it up, throw it in the oven, and smack some frosting on there."
Oh- says Bob- and can you make it in the shape of an alligator?
"Okay, a little trickier, but I'm an artist, sure!"



I knew that one of the grocery stores here had American products so I went to check it out.  For a mere 12 Euros, ($16.20) I could buy the only type of cake mix they had (carrot) and a canister of frosting (which would totally NOT cover an entire alligator- make that 3 canisters of frosting for a total of $31).  I don't think so.

So yesterday I spent hours slaving over the hot... um... oven... and made two batches of strawberry cake from scratch.  Not perfect, but I think I did alright for my first attempt at cake from scratch.  Stupid German oven didn't cook very evenly, but the important thing is that they taste good- which they do (I had to test to make sure it wasn't poisonous.

So today... frost cake to look like an alligator with homemade lime-creamcheese frosting... pictures coming soon!

Cats and Mice

Yesterday I finished yet another alphabet book page.  M is for Mice.  I'm not sure I like this one as much because two mice have to make the letter M.  I tried what felt like a bazillion ways to make just one mouse look like an m, but I just couldn't do it (well, can't is a strong word- I could have done it but it would have looked stupid (pardon my use of the "s" word)).

You might wonder what else I do with my days here besides working on alphabet book pages.  You may also wonder why it is that I post only one alphabet page every other day or so.  What is it I do here??

I have realized that a good part of my day

(after...

-walking 77 miles to the gym and working out amidst smelly Germans, all over the age of 68 who want to be my friend but who I can only understand, at best, 50% of the time

-walking back those 77 miles - and its uphill both ways

-buying groceries - often at two or more stores since the store I buy my cheap vegetables at doesn't carry edible meat and/or toothpaste and would never have advil because it's a dangerous drug and you need to ask at the counter at the pharmacy for it so they can see you're over 18 and won't abuse it...

-cleaning the house, which takes approximately 4 times as long as it might in the US due to inferior cleaning products

-and making dinner - again, 4 times as long because I have to churn the butter, grow the herbs and make any sort of sauce, breadcrumb, or other typically pre-packaged food myself... 

only to find that by the time I've completed my daily tasks, Bob has been home for half an hour, already messed up my cleaning, has finished the dinner it took hours to prepare and is waiting for me to finish washing the dishes so we can relax because he's been working all day**)

is spent being a chair.

Yeah, that thing that looks like a zipper is my sweatshirt, and yes the cat is on my lap, which for all intensive purposes is a chair.  My cat also likes to sleep on unoccupied chairs.  Just not as much.

Fortunately, while being a chair, I can do other useful things, like surf the web or edit photos or scan alphabet book pages, or write blog posts... which is what I'm doing now while being a chair.  Fantastic.

**For the sake of emphasizing my point I may have slightly over exaggerated a few details.  The gym is NOT 77 miles away, its only 1.  And Bob is actually a very nice guy who picks up things I forget at the store on his way home from work, sometimes helps make dinner and almost half the time puts away the dishes after I wash them.  He also knows that being a hausfrau is a full time, demanding, tiring and often times boring job and if he ever mentions that it isn't work, isn't as hard as the work he does, doesn't take as much time and effort as I say it does, or any other comments that even suggest being a hausfrau is not a full-time laborious job, I will get on the first plane out of here and go home to my mom.  Hasn't happened yet...
Oh, and he's not that messy.