Now, we live in Ukrainian Village, a neighborhood just West of the Miracle Mile. It has such an exotic name for a reason, just like Greek Town and China Town. I am not sure some of our neighbors can actually speak english, but I do know they are really suprised to learn I speak only English. I guess I look Ukrainian. Who knew?

In the new place, we finally have more modern utilities and a swank kitchen/living room area. Steam heat and window unit air conditioning were charming, but God bless central heat and air. We also have a great balcony off the back, with plenty of room for a gas grill and nice furniture. Plus, the fancy shower and hot tub aren’t too bad either. We are pretty happy.

Now I take the bus to the Blue Line, which goes right to the office. Joel is a stay at home actor. I do work at home three days a week, and Joel is around when he is not in a class, auditioning or rehearsing. It seems that it is my turn to be the stable one. He has always worked long hours in a cubicle and worked endless hours when a deadline was approaching. I have always been the one to set my own hours and be totally flexible. Now, that is his curse.

We take the bus when we can, and I only get the basics at Dominicks. We have a little store nearby for fresh meats and dairy, there is a Russian deli down the street, and all kinds of specialty shops in the nearby environs. There are meat shops, bakeries, cheese and wine shops, and all manner of ethnic supplies. Needless to say, we have almost never eaten the same thing twice. This is especially true since we got the grill.

I think these Southern boys may have adapted just fine to the big city life, but the tale is just starting to be told. Just wait for him to get us into the broadway/musical scene so thick here in the city. Oh, the stories we will tell.

Now that we have gotten settled in, it is time for us to go places. This last weekend was busy for both of us, but we were off in different directions this time. Joel was back in Little Rock for his big conference, trade show, and annual meeting. He was worn thin trying to get all the last minute details in line, but he managed to make everything happen without putting out an eye or having to bury any evidence. He flew down, picked up my car that we had stored with a dear friend, and drove it back up here when the convention ended. Needless to say, he needed a day or two off before driving all the way back, but he made it just fine.

I have been sitting with a Zen group downtown, and they held a short Sesshin (Meditation retreat) up in Evanston. It started Thursday night and went through Sunday morning. Even though it was not particlarly long, the sitting was no less brutal than any other retreat I have taken. They do everything the Japanese way, despite the lack of a single Asian in the group. They also incorporate other practices that I found fascinating. Brush calligraphy (Shodo) is a clear way to demonstrate the focus and naturalness of a mind. Using the same three character phrase for everyone, the brush strokes from each person became something of a signature of the mind. The Roshi described the places where confusion and disorientation in the work were apparent, but he also pointed out where good technique and freedom of movement adds energy to the piece. This feedback is clear and undeniable, and analyzing the works in front of the group permits everyone an opportunity to learn from the examples and mistakes of others. This also made a great souvenir.

Joel is off to work tomorrow for his first day, which will be spent in training. I suppose I will just sit around and eat bon-bons while the soaps and talk shows slowly calcify my brain. Hmmm, still sounds better than working. I need to get tired of this soon, but it doesn’t seem to be happening.

We were dead by the time the trip ended. We were actually gone by 4:30am as planned, and we started hitting traffic just outside Chicago after twelve hours. We were so close, and now we had to wait. We just wanted to get out of that truck! Yet, we still had to mess with the U-Haul place to get the Explorer off the trailor before they closed. Driving and riding in the moving van wore us out, but the biggest toll was taken on the cat. As many of you know, she keeps a hectic schedule napping in various places around the apartment. In the cab, there was no possible way she could get a moment’s shut eye without being jarred awake by bumpy roads or channel changes on the radio. She tried, trust me. It was fruitless. Eventually, she became hypnotized and delirious. She just sat there, between her daddies, falling asleep and getting jarred back awake. I knew the feeling, but I had to laugh.

We hauled a few things up the stairs to be able to sleep and take a shower. I barely remember collapsing into bed. We both woke up bright and early to forage for food nearby, which was a breeze. We started moving a few things in ourselves, and we were making excellent progress. We got to a logical stopping point, and was ready for a breather, but the movers show up an hour early. Any other time, I would be glad for that. Not so much right then. Jamocha immediately hid under the covers and did not come out for the rest of the morning.

We got the entire truck unloaded and up the stairs in two hours. We were done by 11:30am. We take the truck back to U-Haul, and have breakfast, again. I get a call from Comcast between my coffee and French Toast. He wants to come over now, instead of the arranged 2pm appointment. What is up with all these early birds? I explain that it will be a couple of hours before I have a computer working, and we need to stick to the original appointment. We eat and get back to the apartment, and we are feeling the burn. I get a computer and the TV setup for the cable guy to install video and Internet. Long ordeal ensues, and I end up with television but no Internet. Maybe I will tell that story next post…

We discover the gas is not on, and try to call the gas company to make arrangements. Automated hell and stupid wait times follow. I try to establish service online, by driving to a nearby coffee shop with Internet access. I complete a huge web form, with all my personal secrets, and hit submit. The result page tells me that the system is being upgraded, and someone will call me in five days. Five days. That is FIVE DAYS. I can pay instantly, but nobody is going to do any thing about turning my service on for a week. They could at least have told me BEFORE I filled out the form that it would take a week. I might have held on the phone for an hour if I knew it would take FIVE DAYS for someone to check their email.

We have a microwave and no Internet. You can imagine how lost I was. Joel comes to the rescue. Apparently, some time ago, they started making a frozen entree called TV Dinners. I had to read the box it came in for instructions. There were no recipe ideas or serving suggestions like I am accustomed. Apparently they are meant to be eaten as is, and that is a shame. Know I know that TV stands for Taste Vacant. I had no idea they could grow vegetables that tasted like nothing. Even after a hearty pinch of salt, it just tasted salty. The next night, we ordered Pizza. We might be broke from the move, but there is no reason to suffer bad meals for it.

We found this old building with several “for rent” and “for sale” signs in the yard and in windows. Either someone had been murdered there or the place had just been renovated. Lucky for us, the place was recently rehabbed. We looked at a one bedroom, and thought the deal was good. It was a charmer with hardwood floors, tall ceilings, and french doors between the living room and dining room. Too cute! Then, we muscled our way in to see a two bedroom that was being shown to someone else at the time. We waited for the others to leave, and started the negotiation.

We struck a deal, and followed the guy back to his office where we signed a handwritten lease. Done! We did it in one day, which was a record for both of us. Luck had nothing to do with it. Complete desperation made us drop all the conventional apartment buildings and complexes with pools and game rooms for a vintage building with no elevator. Did I mention we are on the fourth floor? Any other apartment building would have called the stairwell a “workout facility” and charged us extra.

While Joel was at choir rehearsal, I took the initiative to wrangle our candles together to get them stored. We can live without candles for the next couple of weeks, so it made sense to get them out of the way. I had set a few aside that needed to be tossed, and started to gather up the rest. Before I was done, I had a huge armload of drooping, misshapen wax. I wasn’t sure I had a box that would work for them all. You can’t really stack them, and they aren’t tall enough to lay on the side. Plus, they are all more organically shaped than the fresh columns we started with. I finally found a short box that I could stand them in, but it was just barely tall enough. They all couldn’t go, so I had to leave a few of the bigger ones for later. I tucked newspaper around them to keep them in their place. I was so proud when I was done. It felt like I had finished working one of those word problems that starts like “There are three objects. The first is one-third of the total volume of the other two multiplied by 2…”

I was watching Judith, our dear friend, on television when I moved on to the platters and bowls. I had lost all track of time. Joel comes bounding in after rehearsal, and was thrilled that I had gotten more packing done. I mention the candles, and he tells me that he had planned to throw most of them away. I didn’t bother to mention the chore it was to get them in the box just so. I smile, and move back to the platters and bowls. “There are two people in a room. One can solve complex volumetric problems, and the other can see that there is no problem to solve. Which is smarter?”

Sorting through things brings up the only sore topic in the whole endeavor…leaving so many friends behind. In truth, we have so many circles of friends that it will be very hard to stay in touch. This makes us think of of all the laughter and good natured teasing we have shared with our friends over the years. We don’t have blood family to tear ourselves away from, but we have a tremendous adopted family that makes us feel at home. We might miss it at times, but it is something that we don’t have to put in a box and stack on the truck. These relationships will be right there in the cab with us. Even if we did want to pile them all in the back, the truck just couldn’t carry it all. We know how much stuff we have to pack, but we are grateful for the things that will be going along with us without needing to be wrapped.