Welcome, September

It is a new month, and with it comes new adventures. This last weekend I helped my family move from the house we rented into the house that was just purchased (see previous journal entry for background story). As every move before this one – at least seven – the process was painful, literally and figuratively. I always forget how much stuff we own – from knick-knacks and books to clothes and furniture. Luckily we had some help.

In the past, my father and I have completed moves on our own moving everything in the house with a little help from my mother. That includes the seven foot tall entertainment center and my mother’s upright piano. This time, however, as my father had age, physical shape, and back problems on the unhelpful side we enlisted the help of my college wrestler boyfriend and my teenaged football cousin. They were a big help! As I have been out of shape since I stopped playing college golf two/three years ago, I was afraid dad and I would die before we got everything moved over.

Even though we had great help, especially on the large and cumbersome furniture, my dad and I woke up Monday morning after three days of moving to find that our bodies had bruises in various places and there wasn’t a part of us that didn’t hurt. I don’t know what we would have done if we had to move without the help of the two additional guys. Part of me feels weak, as in the past I was able to pull off such a move, but then I remember that my father always bore more weight because I am female; with his back issues there was no way he could make up for my lack of muscles.

To conclude, we are officially moved into the new house. As for unpacking – that is another story. My mattress is the only one still on the floor, but at least I have that to sleep on. Our garage is filled with boxes that will need to be unpacked and I had to hunt for a box of clothes to have something to wear to work this morning. I don’t know which part of the whole is worse: packing, moving, or unpacking? I do not enjoy any of it.

Our phone and internet service was supposed to be transfered on Monday – an ATT man came out to service the phone line, but that seemed to malfunction. No internet, and as my mother attempted to resolve the issue over the phone on Tuesday, the line was disconnected. Upon my father contacting them, we found out that they had no record of us ordering the transfer (dispite me hearing him talk to them a week before the move in preparation) and my father of course told them how ridiculous of a statement that was concidering they had sent the man out the day before to activate the line and my mother had used it only to be cut off from service while on the phone with their support. Issue seemed to be resolved. A new service man came out this morning, and when my father asked to verify that he would be activating the internet he replied that no such order had been made. This makes twice that my father has placed the transfer order on the phone only to have the ATT customer support somehow mess it up between the phone receiver and the fingers at the keyboard. We have phone service now (yea!) but no internet (boo). There’s a break down in their system, and it is really starting to urk me.

The house is the biggest we have ever lived in, and there are enough bedrooms so that I do not have to live in the basement any more. I certainly miss all of the space as it was like living in a one-roomed apartment (minus a convenient kitchen or bathroom). My parents informed me that they would not be expecting me to move out on my own until I can survive on my own. Meaning, they know my current job compensation would not allow me to make my bills, eat, etc. therefore I will be able to stay with them until my circumstances change. Good news!

I’ve been having a series of interesting dreams lately. Such things as searching through baby catalogs for a baby to purchase, being president of the united states but forgetting my official ID and having to redo the scenario until successful, being proposed to by my boyfriend with a ring from the 25 cent machine, and a news paper writing an article about my poetry and how horrible it was (granted, they picked things I wrote in 2002/2003 which wasn’t my best work to begin with). These dreams are welcomed as I went through a period recently with no dreams. It is as if my brain has finally switched back into creative mode.

And because of the dream I had last night, of my poetry critic in the newspaper, I was inspired to write a poem. I will end this update by sharing.

-Kristina

She floats, flutters, she soars
On wings of fallen leaves
Tied by ribbons of rain
Sparkling with first light
Triumphant glow
Defeated darkness
Rises with spears of day
She soars, sings, she dances
On wings of fireflies
Spirited by rivers of harmony
A voice of melded stars
Whirling skirts of beaded clouds
Exhilarating horizon
Sustained brilliance
Paints with streams of delight
She dances, dreams, she glides
On wings of lace petals
Coupled by threads of oceans
Glistening with points reflected
Abiding luminance
Restrains shadows
Carries melodies to the night

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