No, that's not a typo, nor a sarcastic headline. I have nothing to complain about today. Yesterday we went to College Park to apply for sOHIP and it was fast and easy.
Okay, I might complain that it was my second trip there, after an aborted attempt on Friday afternoon before which I failed to RTFM and double check the required docs, so came with a VISA statement from the bank instead of a chequing or savings account statement, lease, or other proof of address (arbitrary, yes; negotiable, no) and was sent packing – but for that I have nobody to blame but myself. To add insult to my personal injury (surely it was personal) I witnessed a gentleman urinating into the recycling bin on our way out. Oh shit, I thought, the wait times must be brutal. Poor guy's been here for hours and is so terrified of missing his turn that he just pissed in the garbage can.
So I came back yesterday with low expectations. But the system works quite well, if you speak English, at least. They have hired some interns to stand at the door and direct people to various reception desks, at which they do a preliminary check of your documents (at which point I was rejected last Friday) and give you a number. According to the sOHIP site: "Your eligibility for Ontario health coverage is not determined by whether you have a job or are unemployed, or where you pay your income tax. It is based solely on your meeting one of the above citizenship or immigration categories and on you making your permanent and principal home in Ontario." Then you go sit in a big room of chairs and wait. The place is clean, cooled, and relatively quiet, compared at least to the zoo up the street at 900 Bay where we spent three sweltering days before and after our wedding to get a fast-track marriage certificate back in the day (full disclosure: without checking the address I went there first on Friday, only to find they had moved). This room is much bigger, and you don't have to line up in the hallway (bonus!). We waited for about 30 minutes on a Monday afternoon. The clerk was friendly and jokey and they seem to have a good working system for taking your photo, etc. It was all over before we knew it.
Now, the real wait is for three months before the sOHIP kicks in. I can't figure out why they impose this little quarantine period (the site doesn't elaborate), but it requires you to either buy private insurance or keep your fingers crossed. We both have medical coverage from our employers, so we're okay, but I'm sure plenty of other people are left without anything but luck for the first 90 days. Which sucks. There, something to complain about, finally.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Mistake?
So after a little run-in with our new Canadian bank last night (nota bene: don't online/telephone bank when tired and a wee bit drunk) I think we had our first moment of Movers Regret. Actually it started earlier in the day, as Mr. O read through his contract and came to the conclusion that labour law in Canada favours businesses over workers, a depressing thought when your presence in the country is largely dependent on your employer.
Then we had a bit of a scrap over nothing as we walked all the way up my new favourite street, carrying a bedside table, over just how much Mr. O can vent about his new homeland and just how much I can take before I have to take the defensive on its behalf. Actually, it might sound like I'm defending my country (such a tough phrase) but really I'm defending our decision to move here, which, really, given the late night attack of MR I'm obviously still not 100 percent in favour of. Which, if I run with it, makes me wonder what the hell we're doing amassing furniture and adopting cats (who insist on kicking their litter boxes all over the floor, but that's veering off topic a bit).
I'm willing to chalk at least half of this rotten moody mood to the fact that it's gray and about 99 percent humidity today. My shirt was soaked just walking to the (closed till 2 pm) movie store. But I am obliged to mention that said movie store is quite possibly the most fantastic movie store next to which I've ever had the privilege of living, and without a doubt beats the hell out of any Makuuni. I love that everything in my new hood is open on Sunday and closed on Monday (who doesn't feel that way?) and that I can get organic Bronto Burgers and fresh raisin bread from the bakery and the lady at the Polish butcher with the broken Interac machine just offered to let me pay her next time. I love the 125 year old houses and jaywalking and how everybody is from some place else. I remember why Finland felt so barren when I first arrived there. And everybody knows the Big 5 banks suck anyway, so fuck it, we're going to the Finnish Credit Union.
Then we had a bit of a scrap over nothing as we walked all the way up my new favourite street, carrying a bedside table, over just how much Mr. O can vent about his new homeland and just how much I can take before I have to take the defensive on its behalf. Actually, it might sound like I'm defending my country (such a tough phrase) but really I'm defending our decision to move here, which, really, given the late night attack of MR I'm obviously still not 100 percent in favour of. Which, if I run with it, makes me wonder what the hell we're doing amassing furniture and adopting cats (who insist on kicking their litter boxes all over the floor, but that's veering off topic a bit).
I'm willing to chalk at least half of this rotten moody mood to the fact that it's gray and about 99 percent humidity today. My shirt was soaked just walking to the (closed till 2 pm) movie store. But I am obliged to mention that said movie store is quite possibly the most fantastic movie store next to which I've ever had the privilege of living, and without a doubt beats the hell out of any Makuuni. I love that everything in my new hood is open on Sunday and closed on Monday (who doesn't feel that way?) and that I can get organic Bronto Burgers and fresh raisin bread from the bakery and the lady at the Polish butcher with the broken Interac machine just offered to let me pay her next time. I love the 125 year old houses and jaywalking and how everybody is from some place else. I remember why Finland felt so barren when I first arrived there. And everybody knows the Big 5 banks suck anyway, so fuck it, we're going to the Finnish Credit Union.
New view
The view from Church and Wellesley (19th floor) tonight. Note that most of the traditional skyline (CN Tower, etc) is totally obscured by clouds.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Fully furnished
At last, things are slowing down a bit. It took a full week to finish painting the bedroom, living room and kitchen after we moved in last Wednesday, which meant yesterday we could start unpacking boxes. No really, the previous tenants put a lot of time and effort into painting the place three or four shades of brown. The bedroom was sponged and spackled to resemble a Du Maurier cigarette, which took three coats of tooth-bleach white to cover. When we weren't painting we were driving around the city – make that province – collecting various pieces of furniture. First was the bed, which involved a long trek up Bathurst all the way from Queens Quay to Sheppard (which is parallel to Pearson airport, for those like me who forget how huge this city is) and then all the way back down Yonge (after scoring a parking ticket in North York, one more reason never to go back there) the literal turning point being Mel Lastman Square, which I had always heard of but never seen. It was actually an interesting little tour, in our very rattly U-haul van, on some of the patchiest roads I've seen in Canada, through some phenomenal neighbourhoods. At the same time, Toronto feels more manageable now than it did when I lived here in the nineties. We've both changed.
We also made some new friends collecting kitchen stuff from a couple who are moving to South Africa – more on that below. Then on Saturday we took an east-west tour up along the lake to Kingston to collect a Danish teak dining room set from the grandparents of one of my closest friends. It's a nice drive considering it's on such a nasty freeway, and every now and then Lake Ontario peeks out from between maple covered hills, reminding you of the rest of the world outside the Big Smoke. The table is the only thing we've acquired so far in our little recycling project which has a real story attached to it that I'm aware of, and it's nice to keep things like that more or less in the family. And it's beautiful, in perfect condition. I've never had a real piece of furniture before...
Since then we've also had a chance to check out the strip of Dundas west of our place. It has the feel of the main street in a small town, with a handful of random corner markets, a mechanic, a spectacular organic vegetarian cafe, a coffee shop and a bank. It also has its fair share of junk shops and a few great furniture places, many of which rescue and refurbish old stuff. In general I think we've landed in the right place. We found a perfectly good espresso maker at a junk store, and a vacuum at a cheap electronics place, plus a large stripped and unfinished dresser from an ornery old dude called Ray, who lent us his dolly to wheel it home.
So the place is a little less hollow than it was last week. The finishing touch is Moyo, a tiny black cat we adopted from the couple moving to S. Africa. We brought her home last night and within three hours she'd caught a mouse – the primary reason we'd considered getting a cat, given our proximity to the train yards. She thought she'd found the ultimate plaything and batted it around until we took it outside (where it was immediately claimed by a bird who was less playful, I think). Since then she's been looking for it frantically, and woke us up several times last night to ask if we'd seen it. But when I came home this afternoon to find her crashed out on the bed, it really started to feel like home.
We also made some new friends collecting kitchen stuff from a couple who are moving to South Africa – more on that below. Then on Saturday we took an east-west tour up along the lake to Kingston to collect a Danish teak dining room set from the grandparents of one of my closest friends. It's a nice drive considering it's on such a nasty freeway, and every now and then Lake Ontario peeks out from between maple covered hills, reminding you of the rest of the world outside the Big Smoke. The table is the only thing we've acquired so far in our little recycling project which has a real story attached to it that I'm aware of, and it's nice to keep things like that more or less in the family. And it's beautiful, in perfect condition. I've never had a real piece of furniture before...
Since then we've also had a chance to check out the strip of Dundas west of our place. It has the feel of the main street in a small town, with a handful of random corner markets, a mechanic, a spectacular organic vegetarian cafe, a coffee shop and a bank. It also has its fair share of junk shops and a few great furniture places, many of which rescue and refurbish old stuff. In general I think we've landed in the right place. We found a perfectly good espresso maker at a junk store, and a vacuum at a cheap electronics place, plus a large stripped and unfinished dresser from an ornery old dude called Ray, who lent us his dolly to wheel it home.
So the place is a little less hollow than it was last week. The finishing touch is Moyo, a tiny black cat we adopted from the couple moving to S. Africa. We brought her home last night and within three hours she'd caught a mouse – the primary reason we'd considered getting a cat, given our proximity to the train yards. She thought she'd found the ultimate plaything and batted it around until we took it outside (where it was immediately claimed by a bird who was less playful, I think). Since then she's been looking for it frantically, and woke us up several times last night to ask if we'd seen it. But when I came home this afternoon to find her crashed out on the bed, it really started to feel like home.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Landing
We left Helsinki yesterday at about 4 pm, holding our breath as we loaded our overweight luggage (read: bursting at the seams) and two bicycles onto the rack. The nice Finnair guy was the first in a series of helpful people that made everything go as smoothly as possible, averting his eyes from the weight meter and sending it all through without extra charges.
The flight itself was like a holiday; after three weeks of chaos there was nothing to do but sit still, read, sleep. We arrived and the border guard sent us into immigration, where we were led into a drab cubicle by a young blonde officer who was likely younger than either of us. She asked Mr. O a few questions, entered his employment info and address into her computer, and stapled his permit into his passport. The whole thing was over in 10 minutes. On the way out a woman at a welcome desk gave us an application for OHIP and a social insurance number.
What took us longer than anything was getting our luggage. Even after our interview the ramp hadn't moved an inch (okay, I'm already speaking imperial again) and after we collected our bags our bikes were still nowhere to be found. Another nice Finnair guy took down our info and sent us through to secondary customs, where I presented my list of goods to follow, mandatory for all returning residents. While we were adding up my grand total the same Finnair guy came running through to announce that our bikes had arrived, and Mr. O followed him back to the luggage area to bring them in with a porter. By the time they reappeared I had finished with the customs officer and was waiting with our two-cart caravan by the door. At this point, just metres from the exit, I started to feel excited for the first time all day. We had made it.
In general the process was smooth and easy for us. I noticed thought that others weren't always having such an easy time of it, as officers asked questions that people couldn't answer, most often in languages they barely understood. Our friends waiting on the other side asked an immigration rep how long it would take for us to make it through the whole process, to which the optimistic reply was, "Oh, three hours, easy." It did take us about three hours from landing to leave the parkade, but that was more due to the brilliant organization of the GTAA than to any immigration hold-up.
The flight itself was like a holiday; after three weeks of chaos there was nothing to do but sit still, read, sleep. We arrived and the border guard sent us into immigration, where we were led into a drab cubicle by a young blonde officer who was likely younger than either of us. She asked Mr. O a few questions, entered his employment info and address into her computer, and stapled his permit into his passport. The whole thing was over in 10 minutes. On the way out a woman at a welcome desk gave us an application for OHIP and a social insurance number.
What took us longer than anything was getting our luggage. Even after our interview the ramp hadn't moved an inch (okay, I'm already speaking imperial again) and after we collected our bags our bikes were still nowhere to be found. Another nice Finnair guy took down our info and sent us through to secondary customs, where I presented my list of goods to follow, mandatory for all returning residents. While we were adding up my grand total the same Finnair guy came running through to announce that our bikes had arrived, and Mr. O followed him back to the luggage area to bring them in with a porter. By the time they reappeared I had finished with the customs officer and was waiting with our two-cart caravan by the door. At this point, just metres from the exit, I started to feel excited for the first time all day. We had made it.
In general the process was smooth and easy for us. I noticed thought that others weren't always having such an easy time of it, as officers asked questions that people couldn't answer, most often in languages they barely understood. Our friends waiting on the other side asked an immigration rep how long it would take for us to make it through the whole process, to which the optimistic reply was, "Oh, three hours, easy." It did take us about three hours from landing to leave the parkade, but that was more due to the brilliant organization of the GTAA than to any immigration hold-up.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Listless
The Canadian Border Services Agency have a page of info dedicated to lucky souls moving back to Canada. This page describes in reasonable detail how to properly declare all the foreign spoils you're bringing back into the country with you. Lucky for us, everything we have to import (including our now-infamous 18 boxes, which arrived six days ahead of schedule) falls under personal effects, on which we aren't required to pay any tax. At the bottom of this page is a reference – not a link (?) – to a document lovingly named B4. B4 is a Personal Effects Accounting Document which all returning residents need to complete and present to the border guard when returning to Canada. Goods sent ahead or afterward need to be listed separately from those which you bring with you when you come, and everything needs a description, value, and even serial number (if applicable). Since I know you're all curious folk, here's my list:
PROPERTY LIST
SENT IN ADVANCE
-175 used books (value 600 CAD)
-binders, papers, instructional materials (value 0)
-2 blankets (value 100 CAD)
-2 board games (value 20 CAD)
-2 photo albums (value 0)
-6 picture frames (value 10 CAD)
-5 magazines (value 0)
-3 notebooks (value 10 CAD)
-personal office supplies (value 10 CAD)
-1 toy camera (value 25 CAD – purchased in Canada 2001)
-1 optical mouse (value 20 CAD)
-1 set watercolour paints (value 0)
-4 glass candleholders (value 20 CAD)
-2 small boxes of souvenirs (value 0)
-1 costume wig (value 10 CAD)
-120 audio CDs (value 200 CAD)
-14 DVDs (value 200 CAD)
-1 pr headphones (value 50 CAD)
-1 KORG EA-1 synthesizer (value X CAD)
-1 KORG ER-1 synthesizer (value X CAD)
-1 KORG synthesizer keyboard
-1 pr M-Audio monitor speakers
-1 x-Session DJ controller
-1 Hercules DJ controller
-1 Ableton Live computer software
-1 M-Audio Midisport interface
-20 audio/video cables
-1 Archos MP3 records
-1 Sanyo digital voice recorder
-1 Kodak Super8 film splicer
-25 reels Super8 home films
-1 Canon 514XL-S Canosound Super8 film camera
-72 vinyl records
-1 2-person MEC tent
-2 sleeping bags
-1 wool poncho
-12 wine glasses
-8 ceramic dishes
-2 large Iittala glass vases
-1 small Iittala glass dish
-1 small glass teapot
-2 glass mugs
-7 painted glass cups
-3 metal tins
-2 Iittala glass goblets
-1 large metal Iittala dish
-2 Japanese sushi knives
-15 ceramic mugs and cups (Arabia Finland)
-1 stainless steel salt and pepper
-1 stainless steel cream and sugar
-40 pc. stainless steel silverware
-1 knife sharpener
-6 small plates
-6 dinner plates
-12 ceramic bowls
-1 stainless steel shot glass
-1 wooden box
-3 ceramic plant feeders
-2 small glasses
-1 glass bottle
-1 small felt mat
-1 small wooden tray
-1 metal paperweight
-1 egg timer
-1 ceramic soap dish
-1 small box sewing notions (scissors, pins, thread, etc.)
-4 video games
-personal photographs, letters
-6 pairs gloves
-2 scarves
-4 hats
-2 dresses
-1 ski suit
-1 winter jacket
-9 women’s handbags
-4 men’s ties
-2 men’s suits
-4 towels
-3 jackets
-3 shawls
-2 housecoats
-1 men’s pajamas
-19 plastic clothes hangers
-6 pairs women’s shoes
-3 pairs boots
-2 pairs hiking boots
-4 women’s sweaters
-1 pair ski pants
-2 sets long underwear
-25 Xmas ornaments
-4 Xmas stockings
-2 men’s winter jackets
-10 fridge magnets
-1 laptop bag
-1 screwdriver set
-1 feather boa
-candy
-2 sets curtains
IMPORTED WITH ME:
-1 Apple Powerbook G4 laptop computer (2000CAD)
-1 4GB iPod mini (200 CAD)
-1 Samsung SGH-D900 mobile phone (400 CAD)
-1 Panasonic LUMIX DMC LX-2 digital camera (600 CAD)
-1 Nikon F-55 film camera (300 CAD)
-2 diamond wedding rings (1000 CAD)
-1 CROSS black metal fountain pen (100 CAD)
-1 PEUGEOT women’s 21-speed bicycle (400 CAD- purchased in Canada 2000)
-12 pairs women’s pants
-2 umbrellas
-1 large crocheted blanket
-11 skirts
-25 t-shirts
-6 blouses
-3 bikinis
-50 undergarments
-1 pr slippers
-15 women’s sweaters
-5 handbags
-3 pr sunglasses
-7 pairs women’s shoes
-3 hats
-6 dresses
-22 data CDs
-personal documents, keepsakes, costume jewelry
-toiletries, makeup
-prescription medicines (birth control pills, minor infections)
-6 pr contact lenses
The funny thing (aside from the whole stupidly long and embarrassing list of stuff I just listed for the world to see, that is) as those of you who couldn't resist downloading it from the link provided above will notice, is that B4 provides exactly 6 lines in which to list this information. Since the page clearly states that "Goods that arrive later will qualify for free importation under your entitlement as a former resident only if they are on your list," I have to assume they don't want me to summarize. At first I planned on simply tagging a full list onto the form, but then I found B4's longer, lankier brother, B4A. B4A is exactly what I was looking for, a nice long page of empty fields where I can list my egg timers (you know that one was just for fun, a la Cpn Hook) and costume accessories in roomy comfort – note that page [blank] of [blank] at the top right! In fact I'm a bit hurt that the CBSA tried to hide him from me under the guise of a related yet separate yet equally obscure file name. So I mention him here to save you the trouble, should you ever suffer from overly long lists someday. Ta.
PROPERTY LIST
SENT IN ADVANCE
-175 used books (value 600 CAD)
-binders, papers, instructional materials (value 0)
-2 blankets (value 100 CAD)
-2 board games (value 20 CAD)
-2 photo albums (value 0)
-6 picture frames (value 10 CAD)
-5 magazines (value 0)
-3 notebooks (value 10 CAD)
-personal office supplies (value 10 CAD)
-1 toy camera (value 25 CAD – purchased in Canada 2001)
-1 optical mouse (value 20 CAD)
-1 set watercolour paints (value 0)
-4 glass candleholders (value 20 CAD)
-2 small boxes of souvenirs (value 0)
-1 costume wig (value 10 CAD)
-120 audio CDs (value 200 CAD)
-14 DVDs (value 200 CAD)
-1 pr headphones (value 50 CAD)
-1 KORG EA-1 synthesizer (value X CAD)
-1 KORG ER-1 synthesizer (value X CAD)
-1 KORG synthesizer keyboard
-1 pr M-Audio monitor speakers
-1 x-Session DJ controller
-1 Hercules DJ controller
-1 Ableton Live computer software
-1 M-Audio Midisport interface
-20 audio/video cables
-1 Archos MP3 records
-1 Sanyo digital voice recorder
-1 Kodak Super8 film splicer
-25 reels Super8 home films
-1 Canon 514XL-S Canosound Super8 film camera
-72 vinyl records
-1 2-person MEC tent
-2 sleeping bags
-1 wool poncho
-12 wine glasses
-8 ceramic dishes
-2 large Iittala glass vases
-1 small Iittala glass dish
-1 small glass teapot
-2 glass mugs
-7 painted glass cups
-3 metal tins
-2 Iittala glass goblets
-1 large metal Iittala dish
-2 Japanese sushi knives
-15 ceramic mugs and cups (Arabia Finland)
-1 stainless steel salt and pepper
-1 stainless steel cream and sugar
-40 pc. stainless steel silverware
-1 knife sharpener
-6 small plates
-6 dinner plates
-12 ceramic bowls
-1 stainless steel shot glass
-1 wooden box
-3 ceramic plant feeders
-2 small glasses
-1 glass bottle
-1 small felt mat
-1 small wooden tray
-1 metal paperweight
-1 egg timer
-1 ceramic soap dish
-1 small box sewing notions (scissors, pins, thread, etc.)
-4 video games
-personal photographs, letters
-6 pairs gloves
-2 scarves
-4 hats
-2 dresses
-1 ski suit
-1 winter jacket
-9 women’s handbags
-4 men’s ties
-2 men’s suits
-4 towels
-3 jackets
-3 shawls
-2 housecoats
-1 men’s pajamas
-19 plastic clothes hangers
-6 pairs women’s shoes
-3 pairs boots
-2 pairs hiking boots
-4 women’s sweaters
-1 pair ski pants
-2 sets long underwear
-25 Xmas ornaments
-4 Xmas stockings
-2 men’s winter jackets
-10 fridge magnets
-1 laptop bag
-1 screwdriver set
-1 feather boa
-candy
-2 sets curtains
IMPORTED WITH ME:
-1 Apple Powerbook G4 laptop computer (2000CAD)
-1 4GB iPod mini (200 CAD)
-1 Samsung SGH-D900 mobile phone (400 CAD)
-1 Panasonic LUMIX DMC LX-2 digital camera (600 CAD)
-1 Nikon F-55 film camera (300 CAD)
-2 diamond wedding rings (1000 CAD)
-1 CROSS black metal fountain pen (100 CAD)
-1 PEUGEOT women’s 21-speed bicycle (400 CAD- purchased in Canada 2000)
-12 pairs women’s pants
-2 umbrellas
-1 large crocheted blanket
-11 skirts
-25 t-shirts
-6 blouses
-3 bikinis
-50 undergarments
-1 pr slippers
-15 women’s sweaters
-5 handbags
-3 pr sunglasses
-7 pairs women’s shoes
-3 hats
-6 dresses
-22 data CDs
-personal documents, keepsakes, costume jewelry
-toiletries, makeup
-prescription medicines (birth control pills, minor infections)
-6 pr contact lenses
The funny thing (aside from the whole stupidly long and embarrassing list of stuff I just listed for the world to see, that is) as those of you who couldn't resist downloading it from the link provided above will notice, is that B4 provides exactly 6 lines in which to list this information. Since the page clearly states that "Goods that arrive later will qualify for free importation under your entitlement as a former resident only if they are on your list," I have to assume they don't want me to summarize. At first I planned on simply tagging a full list onto the form, but then I found B4's longer, lankier brother, B4A. B4A is exactly what I was looking for, a nice long page of empty fields where I can list my egg timers (you know that one was just for fun, a la Cpn Hook) and costume accessories in roomy comfort – note that page [blank] of [blank] at the top right! In fact I'm a bit hurt that the CBSA tried to hide him from me under the guise of a related yet separate yet equally obscure file name. So I mention him here to save you the trouble, should you ever suffer from overly long lists someday. Ta.
Preloading (warning OT)
There's this theory that you can beat jetlag by simply readjusting your daily routine to match that of your destination. We are putting this to the test this week, in the interests of science, of course, as well as the interests of stamina, as, well, if we thought this week was hard...basically our whole move up to this point has been focused on the goal of this Sunday, when we get on the plane and arrive in TO on the other end. What we're now realizing is that this purported goal was really more like a halfway point between two states of inertia known as Normal Life.
You know, moving sucks, but really at the moment it's the social life that's killing me. Since my last post I have met with, eaten/drank/drank more with, and bid farewell to approximately 77 people, and while each individual meeting has been very important and meaningful, as a mass the process has been emotionally and physically exhausting. A girl can only withstand so many lunch/patio/dinner/midnight swimming dates in a single day...and yes, I do take full responsibility for each and every one.
Our official going-away party was last weekend, and involved forty-odd happy, beautiful people, a rooftop patio with sauna and grill, and a whole lot of sunshine. I am personally proud of my new cava-marathon record, a whopping seven hours of steady, measured consumption! It was, if I do say so myself, a total blowup, and everyone had too much fun. I had a chance to stuff my friends full of food and drink and kind words and get plenty of same in return. This part of leaving is like a drug, it feels wonderful at the time but ultimately leaves you a bit low.
The last two days have been mad with running around, completing a billion tiny tasks one at a time, like returning library books, returning emails, taking old clothes to the donation box, mailing last-minute boxes (BTW our July 31 boxes arrived in TO Aug 9, a full six days ahead of schedule!), dropping off borrowed dishes, etc, etc, etc. I have mastered the art of round trips, heading out the door with as much as I can carry and hitting two or three spots in one go. Between each round is a coffee/beer/glass of wine with someone I won't be seeing for an indefinite period of time. It is wonderful and terrible and completely exhausting.
What is really causing my vertigo though is the realisation that on the opposite side of this perpetual downhill ride a whole other set of parties, hellos, family, jobs, apartments, furniture, and general mayhem awaits. Both of my parents called me today, reminding me of the world that exists beyond the gate at the airport. I have been so busy here that I completely forgot to inform either of them of our schedule, address in TO, etc.
I would recommend at least a month off on either side of flight day for anyone attempting this kind of transatlantic migration; I finished work last Friday, Aug 3 – ahem – which would make this week the first of my holiday/unemployment. I ate lunch at 4.30 today, and had crackers for dinner. I am too busy to put on sunscreen (and Helsinki is HOT). But despite the exhaustion and melancholy I am deliriously happy.
You know, moving sucks, but really at the moment it's the social life that's killing me. Since my last post I have met with, eaten/drank/drank more with, and bid farewell to approximately 77 people, and while each individual meeting has been very important and meaningful, as a mass the process has been emotionally and physically exhausting. A girl can only withstand so many lunch/patio/dinner/midnight swimming dates in a single day...and yes, I do take full responsibility for each and every one.
Our official going-away party was last weekend, and involved forty-odd happy, beautiful people, a rooftop patio with sauna and grill, and a whole lot of sunshine. I am personally proud of my new cava-marathon record, a whopping seven hours of steady, measured consumption! It was, if I do say so myself, a total blowup, and everyone had too much fun. I had a chance to stuff my friends full of food and drink and kind words and get plenty of same in return. This part of leaving is like a drug, it feels wonderful at the time but ultimately leaves you a bit low.
The last two days have been mad with running around, completing a billion tiny tasks one at a time, like returning library books, returning emails, taking old clothes to the donation box, mailing last-minute boxes (BTW our July 31 boxes arrived in TO Aug 9, a full six days ahead of schedule!), dropping off borrowed dishes, etc, etc, etc. I have mastered the art of round trips, heading out the door with as much as I can carry and hitting two or three spots in one go. Between each round is a coffee/beer/glass of wine with someone I won't be seeing for an indefinite period of time. It is wonderful and terrible and completely exhausting.
What is really causing my vertigo though is the realisation that on the opposite side of this perpetual downhill ride a whole other set of parties, hellos, family, jobs, apartments, furniture, and general mayhem awaits. Both of my parents called me today, reminding me of the world that exists beyond the gate at the airport. I have been so busy here that I completely forgot to inform either of them of our schedule, address in TO, etc.
I would recommend at least a month off on either side of flight day for anyone attempting this kind of transatlantic migration; I finished work last Friday, Aug 3 – ahem – which would make this week the first of my holiday/unemployment. I ate lunch at 4.30 today, and had crackers for dinner. I am too busy to put on sunscreen (and Helsinki is HOT). But despite the exhaustion and melancholy I am deliriously happy.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Friday
I had a grand plan of documenting the fantastic growing pile of boxes through photos but at some point after Friday (which was, I am well aware, five whole days ago now) I cleverly packed away my camera so this is all you get. Try to visualize, though, if you will, a total of seven of those little plastic blue ones plus six of those smaller brown cardboard ones, plus that one enormous cardboard meanie, plus a couple oddly shaped extras, and you'll have an idea of what we took to Posti yesterday. I also wish I had a photo of the expression on the guy at the counter's face as he added it all up. Those of you who wish to guess at the final cost (the actual retail price without going over) are welcome to do so, but I'll give you a hint: it was about one-fifth the worth of the actual goods inside. Which is actually a good argument for shipping (i.e. burning oil) rather than replacing (i.e. filling landfill).Between then and now we had a two-day long marathon of a garage sale at our house, through which we availed ourselves of the great majority of our worldly possessions (read: Mr. O's bachelor furniture, my espresso machine, one nice lamp and a pile of junk), avoiding both the aforementioned environmental crimes and providing us with fuzzy feelings all over to think of our old things in happy new homes. Luckily we supplemented our bargain-basementing with a heavy dose of nightlife, which meant that by the time Monday rolled around I was right shattered and ready for a nice relaxing day off. And so I started packing the rest of our stuff to move out Tuesday.
Tuesday was the really busy day, starting at 10 with a trip to the cafe for a latte (no espresso machine!) in the pouring rain. Mr. O went to get the truck and we loaded up the dregs of our sale to take to the recycling centre, which also takes broken appliances, etc. If I wasn't moving away, I would have spent some serious time rummaging around in there, but as it was I had to live vicariously through the guys who snatched up Mr. O's abandoned crates of records (I know) like sea gulls on an ice cream cone. Then we came back for the load bound for Canada and spent two hours at Posti filling in customs forms and watching the staff throw our boxes around (did I mention that I ROCK at packing?). Then it was back for the rest of the furniture, some of which went to a friend and some came to stay at the place we're living now – so we have another two weeks with our own bed, washing machine, and coffee table. Uncanny, really.
I can't remember the last time I was this tired. But we arrived at our temporary home safe and sound last night, nestled between the cheap&good Italian place and the bowling alley. Phew.
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