Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Rip It Like a Band-Aid

I've finally moved. I wanted to move this weekend, but it didn't happen. We couldn't get a car over to my place. Enyo surprised me by offering out of nowhere to assist me. "Oh, I wasn't planning on asking you, Enyo, 'cause that just seems weird to me." "Why? We're friends, are we not?" I took him up on it, but then it didn't work out. I wanted to get it over with, but it just wasn't to be this weekend. Finally, today, in about an hour, it was all over with. Ninety-nine percent of my crap (and I have a LOT of crap) was in my new place.
I was unpacking this evening, and of course I was comparing it to the old place. "Why?" I ask myself. "Why did I have to move? My last apartment was so perfect." I guess it's only natural. I did have to move. I couldn't take the "Hi! You have someone else's unexpected guests for the weekend... again!" situation any longer.
My new place is also great. I just get attached, and I really liked where I lived. Three things that are awesome about my new digs:
1. I have a giant bed that doesn't dip in the middle.
2. I have a rectangular (yes, rectangular) toilet of normal height. My last toilet was really low to the ground. Hehe.
3. I have a newly remodeled kitchen.
In the "things I don't like as well as my last place" category, I can list all sorts of things, but it's pointless. I moved. I'm happy. Hopefully, my biggest problem will be solved and any new ones will be palatable.
The anticipation of moving was so silly. It was like ripping off a band-aid. You know it's going to be unpleasant, and you don't want to do it. You take your time. There's all this build-up. (I've known I'm going to move - somewhere - since July.) Finally, you rip it off. You're okay, but it kind of stings.
I was in my old apartment tonight to get something, and I got kind of sad looking at the emptiness of the place. I have so many memories in that apartment. It was my haven. It was my "America" - where I could be me. I guess it's normal to feel nostalgic. It's a far cry from when Yanko first suggested I move (back in February of last year because of a misunderstanding over electricity) and I actually cried, but it's still sad.
I'm at the internet cafe, and I'm reminded of why it's been so nice to not have to come here on a regular basis anymore. People here are unnecessarily noisy (some woman here has the most awesome cackle in the history of laughs - she should audition to be a witch! She'd be deadpan perfect.), and there's smoke all around. I've been really frustrated by the smoking recently. Maybe it's because there's still, yes still, some wheezing in my lungs, (Bad Apryl! Tell Peace Corps!) and I fear I may have developed asthma. I blame smokers.
This weekend, I went to a partner meeting with my colleagues in Bankya. I had a nostalgic moment when I passed the hotel where we B-18s had our COS (Close of Service) Conference. Anyway, we had a meeting to talk about how we're doing and what kind of projects we've been working on. I don't usually talk much at these meetings. Heck, I don't usually go to these meetings, but I was able to add some pertinent information and feel minutely useful. "We've applied for these projects... we're still waiting to hear back... etc." The best part of the meeting, however, was during dinner when my dad called! And after that, the alcohol flowed and the dancing began! I realized that my favorite part of being here in Bulgaria is when I've been with my colleagues while we're dancing "kuchek" or a "horo." We had a great time dancing. It showed the next day.
Yesterday, I was able to meet up with one last B-18 for lunch. I thought all the B-18s had left the country by now, but I guess there are still a few still hanging out. I had a good time talking to her, but I spent most of the conversation complaining about my living situation - since that was on my mind.
Today, I met up with some of my favorite student-teachers and told them that we wouldn't be able to have English classes until after the new year. They were great and understanding about it. The ironic thing is that they were the most gung-ho about getting back into classes, and we haven't had a class yet! We had a great conversation about Democracy vs. Communism in Bulgaria today over some tea. I explained to them what was coming up for me (in English!) and they understood! One teacher even remembered the word "accountant." Awesome. My kids have forgotten everything.
Ah, and the teachers are no longer on strike, but there's still this weird atmosphere that permeates everything. Somehow it still feels like the kids aren't going to school. Maybe I just see the ones who are ditching like always. Anyway, the teachers said they were going to hold out until the end until the Ministry met their demands. I'm not sure what they got, and as far as I can tell, it was unsubstantial if it was anything. Maybe they got tired of the whole affair - and of not getting paid.
Okay, I've had about enough of this. I'm off to my new, giant bed.
Thirteen days until America!

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