Notes to Self

It's officially done. Matt and I sent off our JET applications to the Japanese Embassy. Now all we have to do is wait around until January to hear back. The whole process has been a lot like applying for a Green Card.

Lots forms to fill out, statements to write, documents to scramble for at the last minute. 

They want everything in triplicate, which totally ate up our paper supply. I will say though, that the Japanese officials are easier to get in touch with than the American ones. At least they let you leave a message on their machine and call you back with answers to your questions. Reaching American officials is about as easy as E.T. trying to phone home.

And once you do get through, they're mean. The Canadians aren't much better, but at least that part of the process is over, since Matt was approved for an Immigration Visa.

So now that I'm done I have a bit more time on my hands. I had cut my hours down at the Steeple People, where I volunteer, but look forward to getting back to sorting through vintage clothing and berating people for shoplifting from a non profit organization. The Steeple People (or Greeple as Matt likes to call it) is a church run thrift shop that sells donated house hold goods and clothing in order to donate the profits to local community organizations. It's a fun place to work, lots of busy people cleaning and sorting and is the kind of work I enjoy. I don't get paid, but I do get to take home items that may not be 'sellable'. So if there is a tiny snag in that cute Banana Republic sweater, they won't hang it on the floor. It gets sent to a recycling plant to make some sort of product that soaks up oil spills....OR....it ends up in my closet. 

Today is Black Friday. Apparently there is supposed to be some extreme shopping going on, as tradition dictates. I don't quite get it, especially during our current 'Economic Crisis' (I'm lovin' all the new catch phrases that Americans come up with for describing stuff. This one is almost better than Weapons of Mass Destruction...seems to instill about the same amount of fear in people. I guess that's the point though.) Why the day after you eat a big fat (not to mention pricy) greasy turkey meal is reserved for blowing even more of your budget, I don't know. 

Our Thanksgiving was pretty fantastic. We had turkey dinners twice. An early Thanksgiving was celebrated at Glenda and Walter's last week because more family was going to be around. I've never had a 'turkey roll' before, but I like the idea of spiraling spinach in between turkey meat. There must have been 3 different kinds of dessert and so many leftovers. Then we hit the table again at Ryan and Randy's for a scrumptous bird, loads of gravy and mashed potato's, and a pecan pie that almost ushered me into a diabetic coma after the first bite. I swear, I don't want to eat again until Christmas. 

I should get going. I've promised myself to walk to the library before I start my shift at the Steeple. I'm reading Nelson Mandela's "Long Walk to Freedom". Great book. It's just amazing that people fought so hard for freedom. I've never had to so much as lift a finger in a fight for my racial rights. It reminds me again how lucky we are in North America, and that's something to be grateful for.

Room With A View

Winter is here. 

Even if there is no snow, you know it for sure when you can feel the cold frigid air seeping through the crack of the closed front door. I can pinpoint exactly where it is that all the heat in my apartment is escaping, it might as well be water running through those gaps.

A particularly cold location in my home is the bay window in the living room. It's an old window, with no caulking, so it's a given that when you sit beside it it feels like you need to put on an extra sweater and maybe some leg warmers. Matthew has actually started to call me 'Grandma' because of all the knit-wear that i've suddenly taken on. 

However, the window is a great place to write.  I like to surf the net and write my blog here so I can look up every so often and spy on the neighborhood. 

I've been observing my 'hood for about 2 months from this little perch of mine.

I feel sort of like a house cat that sits and watches through his owners glass. Actually, used to think that cats sat by the window wishing to be released outside, but now I think that they just like the anonymity of the situation. They can scope out their terrain without any mouse, bird or squirrel having any idea that they  are being studied. The cat is secretly planning his hunt and when the right moment comes he'll know exactly when and how to strike!

Well, at least that's what I think, mostly because that's how I feel, though I'm not planning on doing any rodent extermination any time soon. What I mean is that I love to watch when no one else is looking. 

It's pretty fascinating to observe the system of your surroundings unfold, and there is definitely a system.

The bus arrives at its stop every 15 minutes.

The three college roomies, or as I like to call them the triplets, on the third floor of our building are always dashing out the door at around 8:30am, probably late for class.

The man with the black Converse walks by every day at 10:30 am, always in a Westwardly direction.

Katie, my second floor neighbor, is constantly parking her car, then leaving again, then back again re parking her car. (I still don't know what kind of job she has that requires her to come and go so often.)

2:00 pm the mail man arrives.

The first of the month you can see the garbage pickers weaving in and out of the nearby alleyways with shopping carts and pick up trucks, looking for treasure junk thrown out by moving tenants.

And at least once a day, a cyclist almost loses his or her life zooming through the two way stop at Bryant and 24th street. 

This is pretty standard stuff, standard for my street because we live right at the corner of a busy residential road that leads to an even busier one.

Two blocks away is a commercial area with restaurants, bars and of course the ever exciting liquor store, so their action sometimes trickles down our way. 

Every now and then you'll see something really out of the ordinary. The other day I spotted a well known homeless guy standing at the bus stop across the street. The bus came, but he didn't get on. He was waiting for someone. Then a car pulled up, he got in and they pulled into the alley. Moments later he came sauntering back out, lifted his arms in the air and did a couple fist pumps. I imagined at the time that he was yelling 'Adriane!' 

Total drug deal. Wow. Is my neighborhood cool or what?!

Catching Up

It's been a long time since I hit the blog. I think a whole year, almost to the day.

It must have been somewhere in Pakistan that I stopped writing. Internet service was sketchy at best and it's easy to stay away from the web when you are enjoying the people and mountains of such a unique country.

Since then so much has happened.

Matt and I finished our year of traveling abroad. India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka and a bunch of other far away places were visited and loved. There were also some places we did not love at all, but that's traveling. 

We returned in August of this year, just in time to pick up our car from the abandoned car lot in Vancouver. 

Technically we had 'abandoned' it, in front of my cousins house, and fully intended to retrieve it upon our return to Western Civilization. It sat there for just under 11 months until someone decided to write a few choice words on the side of the car with a paint marker, words I won't repeat here because I think it goes against my Blogger Agreement. The graffiti turned our beloved little rusting Honda into a crude and obvious eyesore. Shortly after that the license plates were ripped off, likely by a coalition of neighborhood parents that banded together after their children came home with an entirely new vocabulary due to our car. In any event, it worked. The week before we arrived home it was towed. Luckily we had no problem locating it, the fine wasn't too ridiculous and the graffiti came off with a little bit of elbow grease and a lot of Goo Be Gone.

Our return home was exciting. 

After the 'car incident' we crossed into the US and spent some time in Oregon visiting friends, camping and soaking up the gorgeous weather. 

We road tripped across the country to Fargo in time to attend Matt's brother's wedding. 

We were reunited with family that we missed immensely. We met our new nephew, Ethan, who was born while we were away. We gorged ourselves on food we hadn't eaten in months. 

Steak was a personal favorite. Matthew started eating hamburgers everyday.

There was always a story to tell and an interested ear to listen.

After the initial hoopla of it all, things adjusted back to 'normal', or what Matt likes to think of as 'boring'.

Lots of adult decisions had to be made that neither of us had made in a while.

"Where would we live? What about jobs?! Oh my gosh, we are almost broke!"

Also, there were many responsibilities to attend to that I had ignored blissfully while traipsing around South Asia.

My taxes were long overdue, and I almost positively owed the government money.

I needed to sort out my Green Card paperwork with the US government.

My teeth needed a serious cleaning intervention and I was desperate to get hold of some Western birth control because the non-prescription India stuff i'd been using for the last 6 months was slowly turning me in emotional monster.

We decided on Minneapolis as a place to live out the fast approaching winter. It's a 3 hour drive from Matt's family and a 2 hour flight from mine, so technically it's half way between both.

Our apartment is old, warm and cozy and we enjoy the location.

Matt was able to pick up his old job, which was great cause money was getting tight. 

I filed my taxes and was even able to pay what I owed.

I am in the final stages of my Green Card application and am crossing my fingers that I will have it by January.

Until then, even though Matthew and I have been legally married since 2006, I officially cannot be 'living' in the US.

By 'living' here, that would imply (at least to a border customs guard) that I was somehow allowed to stay indefinitely or was intending to work. In fact, I'm allowed to do neither until my Green Card is approved. So until that point, my status when I cross the border is classified as a 'Tourist', and I can 'visit' (not 'live') with Matthew for up to 6 months. It's a lame situation, but it's the only legal way to play this game. 

So that is how we went from 'there' to here.

Matt works, I play the waiting game with the government and we both agree that once winter is over we need to do something a little more inspirational than what we are doing now.

What can I say, as much as I missed my family and friends and wanted to come home at the end of our trip... 

As much as I was happy to have an apartment again, a phone, a fridge, a bed and a new pair of jeans...

As much as I enjoy cooking my own food, eating meat every stinking night, drinking real wine and grocery shopping...

...there is something inside of me that wants to go back. 

I know. It's crazy.

You think a year would be enough. Apparently travel bugs die about as hard as Amebic Dysentry.

So we have started to apply to JET, a Japanese teaching program that hires assistant teachers from all over the world to work in Japan on a year to year contract. If we are accepted, we will be in Japan by next August and may not be back for a while. Our application is due at the end of this week and I'm both nervous and excited about the possibilities that lie ahead.

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