8 ways to get a stomach ache, and 2 ways not to
Nope. Not doing that one. Can't take the pressure. Since I have managed to post on two consecutive days over the weekend, though, I thought I'd see how long this streak can last.
2) In lieu of election angst--have I told you the one about how I was home on Election Day afternoon of 2000 hanging out with Mermaid Baby while RW taught a class, and NPR announced that Gore had won Florida, and I clapped her little hands together, chanting "Gore won Florida! Gore won Florida!" so happy that we'd at least have a Democratic President to see her through her toddler and preschool years? No? Well, best not to mention it tonight, then--anyway, in lieu of anything touching on the elections, here is the update on our plans to move to Vancouver:
3) The Bureau that Investigates things Federally has been sitting on my fingerprints (now, isn't that a lovely image?) for over three months now. I keep sending them emails asking when they'll be mailing me my criminal history so I can send it in with my application for permanent residency, as required, and their flunkies keep sending back apologetic emails explaining that they've been just flooded with requests (imagine that!) and it will be another x weeks. Then, x weeks later, when I haven't seen anything in the mail, I shoot them another email. This has been going for about three rounds now, with no end in sight.
4) The application itself, which I have absolutely no excuse to not be working on in the meantime, has--after an initial burst of effort on my part this summer--been languishing in the file folders I set up, bursting with sticky-note queries about how to answer various questions. I really should be working on it right now. Really, I should.
5) However, I did set up a free phone consultation with an immigration consultant over the border, and she was very encouraging and answered all my questions. So now I really have no excuse. She also said spousal applications have been taking about a year, which means I'll be without Canadian earning capacity probably through next December at least.
6) We're probably going to move over the summer anyway, at least RW and MG are, so MG can start
7) We're leaning towards selling the house when we move (in the summer when they move? In the winter when I move? Don't know. Good question.) and buying an apartment up there immediately. Probably a small apartment we can buy outright, as we won't qualify for a mortgage without jobs to speak of, which we won't have right away. I figure if we think of it as long-term camping in a stationary camper van, rather than as a house that's way too small for us, we can handle it for a year or so.
8) Various aspects of this plan--mostly involving our old nemesis Money and its friends, Mr. Real-Estate Market, Ms. Job Market, and Madame Currency Exchange--make both me and RW hyperventilate. But we've managed to keep planning so far without dissolving into complete quivering wrecks.
So we are focusing on relatively minor areas in which we have more control, namely MG's school and the synagogue situation, both of which are looking pretty good. So, we'll be broke, but MG will have a great time at school with her cousin every day before returning to our overcrowded hovel, and we'll be spiritually fulfilled and also can get something to eat every week at Kiddush.
Furniture is another soothing topic. RW, who has been prone to bursting into tears at the mention of the impending move, was grieving in advance the other day at the prospect of leaving behind her beloved (huge, heavy, impossible to move) wardrobe, and was not consoled by our explanation that most normal bedrooms have closets, so she probably wouldn't need a wardrobe in the new place. Finally I said we could possibly buy her another wardrobe if it was that important to her, and pulled out the Ikea catalog to show her that such a thing was possible. She was immediately FASCINATED and within minutes had also abandoned her tearful loyalty to our old (huge, heavy, impossible to move) sofa and was pointing out several new couches that she'd like better.
It's possible that with enough infusions of new furniture and swedish meatballs we might be able to do this thing.