Sometimes all you can do is hurry up and wait.

I hate apartment hunting. I've looked at over 20 places now, most of which weren't to my taste - either too old, or too remote, or too squarely planted in soccer mom territory. There was one place I liked that I decided to take, but it got taken by people who were willing to pay more than I was. Out of sheer desperation, I put a deposit on one to hold it until Tuesday - it's not great, but neither is being homeless. I put an application for one that is out of my ideal price range, but it's really a great place - I'll hopefully hear back tomorrow on whether or not I'll get it - my agent assured me that they wanted me, but I'm a lawyer, so I never believe anything people say until it's in writing with money involved.

In order to apply for that place, I had to make peace with the idea of not applying for another place that's a bit cheaper and somewhat bigger, but is sort of in No Man's Land, and is actually too big for me to live in - I don't want to deal with buying enough furniture for three bedrooms. There are so many tradeoffs - do I want a more expensive place that's more convenient, with higher ceilings and all hardwood floors, a balcony and a cool feeling to it, or do I want a cheaper place with three floors, a fireplace, but that's not in a great location, and has carpet on two floors (I don't like carpet)? It's hard to compare the two places. Anyways, I just hope that the place I applied for comes back and says yes ASAP. If they say no, I hope they do that ASAP, too, so that I can try to scramble for the other place.

I'm also waiting for visitors. First, Apple - he booked a trip to come visit July 21 - August 7, so he'll be here for my birthday Then Kanga, who will be here for one day in the middle of one of her epic journeys around the States. Then the friend who introduced me and Apple - he will be here for his new hire orientation (the same one I went through two weeks ago).

And there are other things to wait for, as well - I'm waiting for my cell phone to finally be delivered to my desk, so I can get back on the grid. I'm waiting for more information on my finances and car prices (as well as the specs on the 2009 Prius) so I can figure out when to go out and and buy a Prius (if they're even available without a wait these days). I'm waiting for my brain to absorb more information so I can stop feeling stupid at work (more on that in a bit). I'm waiting for my moving expenses to be reimbursed. I'm waiting for my stuff to arrive from Europe. I'm waiting for my stuff to arrive from my parents' house. I'm waiting to find out what apartment I get so I can go buy furniture. I'm waiting for my first paycheck (and several after that) so I can actually pay for the furniture (and rent and the deposit and the car...) Two things I hate - moving and waiting, and it's even worse to do both at once. Graar.

***

I feel like I adapt pretty well, at least on the outside. I find a way to make things work when necessary, and talk and laugh and make friends and deal with things. Sometimes I even fool myself into thinking that everything is OK, and that I recover from things pretty quickly. I think my brain just compartmentalizes things and tucks things away in little drawers and cubbyholes so I won't hurt myself.

I've noticed that in the last couple of months, and still now, I can't watch anything (TV, movies, commercials) that involve saying goodbye without getting much more upset than usual. I mean, I'm not usually one to cry in public or over TV shows, but I've found myself trying to hold back tears during key on-screen goodbye scenes on a train back from Luxembourg, on the plane to LA, and here in my cookie cutter corporate housing. I'm not good at saying goodbye, and apparently, when I'm dealing with too much "goodbye" in my own life, I can't even watch it, either.

***

On feeling stupid. This is arrogant, but I've never really felt stupid before (I mean fundamentally stupid in comparison to my peers - I often feel fleetingly stupid, but not comparatively unintelligent. The exception is within my family - some of my cousins are pretty terrifyingly smart). In high school, I was valedictorian (mostly because my parents hounded me incessantly about my grades), so I knew I was ahead of my peers. And in college and law school, even though I didn't study and didn't have the highest grades, my grades were above average, and I was still pretty confident that in terms of actual intelligence, I was on the sweet side of the bell curve. In past jobs, I've also been sure that I could keep up and perform at or above the expected level. But now, for the first time in my life, I'm not so sure.

My coworkers are smart, and they are way more experienced than I am. For the first time in my life, I feel completely and totally lost when it comes to trying to do what I'm supposed to be doing. My work experience is completely unrelated, and I feel like I've been tossed into the deep end. In most situations, I would just say, "Hey, I'll learn fast and be as good as the rest of them in a few months," but I actually think that they may be smart enough and experienced enough that I won't catch up. I'm not sure if they just seem really smart because they know what they're doing, but I have a sinking suspicion that they are actually really smart and I'm going to have to scramble like crazy to catch up and keep up. I'm not used to scrambling like crazy - I'm used to learning the ropes and then cruising along at about 30% efficiency - so this is going to be weird.

They actually warned us in orientation that we would feel like this. They said that they get over two million CVs per year, and that less than 1% get offers after the long and tortuous evaluation process, so they reassured us that we were indeed smart enough, but they said that we would feel stupid and useless for the first 6-9 months. To be honest, I sort of laughed at that, because they said the same thing when we showed up for orientation at Harvard, and when we showed up for law school orientation at Columbia, and I never felt stupid then, so why should I feel stupid now?

But they were right. I feel stupid. It's a very disturbing feeling.

Apple says that I'm naive when it comes to boys (men?), and that my naivete is what causes my frequent disappointment in them. Specifically, my disappointment when it comes to boys who are my friends. I have always been something of a tomboy, and have had lots of good guy friends over the years, from Charlie, the boy who lived across the street from me when I was five, with whom I watched Voltron and played He-Man, to 2FX and Roo. I've never subscribed to the When Harry Met Sally theory that men and women can't be friends, and I always pointed to my own collection of male friends as evidence that men and women can indeed be friends, and that sex or romance don't always have to be on the table when members of the opposite sex are involved.

Some part of this, I think, is a subconscious decision on my part to stop being overly cynical and pessimistic - just because one guy friend crossed the line and betrayed my trust and friendship years ago doesn't mean that I should expect all guys to do so. Apple claims that my belief in the platonic intentions of my guy friends is hopelessly naive. After the past few months, as several of my guy friends unwittingly backed his case, I am starting to reconsider my position.

There was the good friend who said he would like to see me naked. There was my coworker who told me (while very drunk) that he would like to, er, copulate the excrement out of me. There was my old dive buddy who told me that it was a shame that I have a boyfriend (with my boyfriend a few meters away). And now, most recently, there is the friend (who introduced me to Apple) who told me that he and another one of our friends had a conversation after I moved, in which they discussed who amongst our friends, besides the two of them, harbored a secret crush on me, which they kept under wraps because I always had a boyfriend.

First of all, WHO SAYS THAT?? Why would you tell someone that - doesn't that just make things awkward? "Hey, girlfriend of my friend, at least two of us, maybe more, were also interested in you." Second of all, is it not possible to just be friends??? Just because you're friends with a member of the opposite sex, do you have to always think of additional possibilities?

Apple insists that guys are guys, that they always think about sex, and that if they have female friends, they always consider the possibility, even if it's unlikely because either the guy or the girl is taken. (Does that mean that he considers all of his female friends as possible bedmates, and only (hopefully) resists because he's with me? Maybe I shouldn't think about this too much.) I just don't think of my friends that way. I very rarely date someone
I've known for very long, because once I become friends with someone,
they are very clearly friends, and I just don't see them that way, the
same way I don't see my sister or Kanga or my college roommate as
possible romantic interests. Apple says that I should be flattered that my friends think that way. Um, I'd rather be flattered that my friends think I'm a good friend. Their wayward thoughts just make me feel a bit awkward, and I kind of feel like it is a betrayal of the nature of a platonic friendship, even if it's a small betrayal, which sort of makes the friendship feel awkward, as well.

On one hand, he might be right, and maybe I am a bit over-optimistic and naive when it comes to my friendships. On the other hand, do I really want to start assuming that all guys are only interested in sex?

***

Oh, Apple and I got video chat working on Skype, yay!! Not so useful during the week, when he's in Luxembourg, and the nine hour time difference makes it impossible to have more than a five minute conversation, anyways. But very useful on weekends, if I'm free in the morning or afternoon (fairly likely), and he's free in the evening or at night (less likely, but still possible).

Video chat is cool - Apple's living room and bedroom are so familiar to me, since I lived there for a couple months, so it's almost like being in the same room, minus the cuddles. And it was so good to see his face again, after only talking to him over phone or email for the last week and a half. I half-forgot how handsome I think he is. The only thing I find a bit odd is that you have to sit in front of the computer, and it almost feels like a presentation or interview - I keep feeling like I need to show him things: "Look, this is the beanie we had to wear to our first TGIF happy hour! Look, here's Fiver, he says hi! Look, I have car keys!!"

He has seven (yes, seven) weeks of vacation left this year (about half of it is left over from last year), which is more than he thought he had. He was originally thinking of coming for a week or two in November, around his birthday, but now he's considering also making a trip out in August, which would be just awesome.

So I've finished two days of work now, and all I can say is, so far, yes, it's really like that. The food really is that good (there were oysters at lunch today!!). The people really are that smart and interesting. The perks really are that insane ($30 for an hour-long massage, anyone?).

I am currently lost in a sea of chaos - requesting this equipment, filling out that form, finding this room, choosing that insurance plan, picking which mobile device to get, forgetting everyone's names, and so on. I just hope I can sort through all that kind of stuff before the real work starts up. What's insane is that in (all two of) my previous jobs, the first week was always made up of short days - a little bit of paperwork and meeting people, but mostly just sort of laying low and getting a feel for the territory before diving in. I spent eleven hours at the office both days so far, and although I do admit that I do my share of noodling around, yesterday's schedule was fully planned out, and today, albeit unstructured, was mostly spent doing things.

This place is much bigger than my previous employers, by far. I can get lost between buildings. I can get lost within my own building. I got lost going to the bathroom the first day. The only thing that saves me is that people tend to decorate their offices. A lot. Which means that instead of having to remember twists and turns, I can look around and say, "Oh, OK, there's the red stuff hanging from the ceiling, and there's the cube with the paw prints all over it, I must be near my office."

The company (like my extended family) likes to make gear with its name on it. Some of this gear is given out for free, and some of it is sold to employees at ridiculous discounts, which means that when you walk around, it's almost like a college campus, based on the number of people wearing shirts, fleeces, and jackets with the company name on it. It's sort of cute. I feel a little bit out of place in my normal clothes. (Note to self: get some branded gear in order to blend in with coworkers.)

I've been leaving my dog at home so far, but I think he'll start coming to work next week, once I'm more settled. He's been getting antsy at home, so I think he'll be relieved to be going with me somewhere, even if he doesn't have any friends there yet. There are a few dogs on my floor, although people don't seem to bring their dogs every day - the dogs "work" part-time a lot, apparently. I think Fiver will like part-time work better than unemployment, though

Anyways, right now it's all just non-work-related chaos. I expect that work-related chaos will start up soon. (I'm a lawyer, so there must be chaos involved, right?) I just hope the two sets of chaos don't overlap too much. I'm a bit pessimistic about that, though - even if I get through all the paperwork and things they want me to do, I still have to get a driver's license and an apartment, ASAP, neither of which looks terribly likely. We'll see...

***

Having a nine-hour time difference with Apple isn't the easiest thing, especially since he travels for half of the week. We're figuring it out, bit by bit. I can get calling cards that make it cheaper for me to call him than vice versa. So I call him before I go to bed, which is a wakeup call for him (which is handy, since his alarm doesn't always wake him up). When I get into work, he's starting to wrap up for the day, so we can chat a little bit online. Once we get to the weekend, we're going to see if we can set up video chat, as well. And for now, that will have to suffice.

Sorry about that. I got wrapped up in the moving process, vacation preparation, vacation, and then saying goodbye to everyone. I'm back. I arrived in San Francisco last night, and start work on Tuesday.

Just a quick entry now, but I have so much to write about. It's been a really sad process, leaving there and coming here, and the worst part was saying goodbye to Apple, Kanga, and Roo. I'm embarrassed to admit this, but I actually cried myself to sleep last night, and I'm generally not the type of person who does that. More on that another time.

It's strange, though, because a few months ago, I was mostly excited to do this, with only a few reservations. After some reflection, I think the difference is partly the difference between reality and fantasy, and the fact that I absolutely hate moving, but it's partly also that things have changed in unforeseen ways.

Back then, I was contemplating leaving a life that I loved for another life that I would love. It seemed like a fair trade - I'd give up the European lifestyle and some good friends in exchange for a super-cool job and proximity to family. I then accidentally acquired a boyfriend, and that changed the balance - leaving behind a life with the boyfriend in the same apartment for a life where he lives very far away. Add onto that the fact that as of right now, I've had to give up the old life, but haven't started the new one yet - I haven't seen any family except for my sister (the whole house was asleep when I got here last night, and they were gone when I woke up this morning), and the job hasn't kicked in yet. I've given up all the good things I had without getting any of the good things that are yet to come. So I feel particularly bereft right now, and am hoping that things will get better in the coming weeks.

I miss Kanga and Roo. I really miss Apple. Thank god I have Fiver here (more on how he nearly didn't come in another post), or the loneliness would be truly unbearable. I'm not very good at being lonely.

For now, two pictures from Bonaire.

Squid look like little aliens underwater.

Me, my old officemate, Kanga, and Apple

Kanga and I spent a long weekend up in northern Europe, where I discovered my love for multigrain porridge, and she discovered... poop in a trash can. Yeah, I think we might be past the age where staying in hostels really fits into our expectations, which definitely include not finding poop in the bathroom trash can.

Then I met up with Apple in Luxembourg, where he goes every week for work. I had written him a ridiculously sappy letter - since when did I become a romantic? I almost chickened out and took it away from him, but he read it and didn't laugh, and in fact really loved it, studied it, and talked about it with me (while I had my head hidden under a pillow out of sheer embarrassment), and so that was a relief. I read, did my taxes, watched movies, and just puttered around during the day. It was nice to have a break with nothing big to do, and no sights to see.

We realized that it had been two months since we first got together - it's one of those situations where you're not sure if it feels like it has been shorter or longer, and maybe it's both, in a good way. We went out to dinner on Tuesday as a quasi-celebration, and also just because we like going to nice restaurants together. It was at that dinner that Apple brought up, ever so casually, the issue of What Are We Going To Do Once I Move. I had thought about bringing it up in Bonaire, but he beat me to it, but maybe that shouldn't surprise me - he has always been very open about his thoughts and feelings, and seems even more unguarded after having read my letter. We had talked about it a little bit before, but only tangentially and in passing, without a firm conclusion - once when Apple (mostly jokingly, I believe) said I should stay here and live with him, and his salary could stretch for both of us (I say jokingly because he is one of those people who doesn't believe in living together unless it's a Forever kind of situation); once last week when we were talking about how we would keep in touch once I'm gone (actually, it started off as an "are we going to keep in touch" conversation initiated by me, since Apple isn't friends with as many of his exes as I am with mine, and evolved into a "would Skype be practical" conversation). And it popped up here and there, but only in passing.

So Apple raised the issue head-on at dinner, asking if we were going to continue dating once I'm gone, which I thought was an interesting choice of phrasing, actually, because from the beginning, we always said that we would date until I left, so I would have thought that the default question in such a case would be, "Are we still going to end things when you leave?" Of course, I'm a lawyer, so I probably deconstruct phrasing more than most speakers intend. I asked him if that was what he wanted, to keep dating, and we both commented on the ridiculous impracticality of it, but also said that we couldn't imagine just... stopping. Then we talked about frequency of visits, the possibility that I might sometimes be able to work from the local office of my company, and so on. So at least for now, it looks like we're going to give it a shot and try to find a way, but a nine hour time difference with no concrete prospect of living in the same city (or on the same continent, for that matter) makes things look a bit grim.

We let the topic drop and talked about our usual mish-mash of serious and silly things (at dinner the night before, for instance, the tables had brown paper and crayons, so in between talking about work and friends and plans, we took turns making each other's random scribbles into little drawings of whales, "racing elephants," monocled men, and other nonsense.

As we were falling asleep later on, Apple mumbled, "I am going to miss you so much when you're gone, what are we going to do?" The very thing that has been plaguing me. "We'll find a way." Seemingly satisfied with my response, he fell asleep. I wish my doubts were so easy to soothe...

***

One very strange thing that happened while we were in Luxembourg requires some background information. After a rather unfortunate incident about ten years ago, I have never been able to stand having the left side of my neck touched, especially close to the collarbone. If I am very distracted or very calm, I can just barely stand it, but otherwise, it bothers me like the dickens. Similarly, I hate having my legs underneath someone else's legs, it just makes me feel trapped, like a cornered animal. Over time, I have been slowly, ever so slowly, training myself out of it, but it has been a long process with little progress. The untouchable area has decreased in size, and the frequency of those short times when it can be touched has gone up, but 95% of the time, it has remained untouchable.

Tuesday night, Apple and I were lying in bed after, er, well, afterwards, and he touched my neck in an exploratory manner - he knows I can't stand it, but he also knows I'm trying to get over it, so he occasionally checks to see if it's OK. And... nothing. It wasn't a matter of me tolerating his touch as long as possible, which is usually the case when it comes to the left side of my neck. It simply didn't bother me. It felt as if he were touching any other part of me - a hand, a foot, an arm. Inconceivable. This went on for five minutes, and I lay there, stunned, because it has been ten years since my neck could be touched like that without me being distracted or concentrating on trying to be OK with it. And the next morning, the same thing. And this morning, I didn't even mind having my legs pinned under his as we lay in bed talking before he got up to go to work.

I thought that I might eventually get over my difficulty with having my neck touched or my legs pinned, but I thought it was going to be a long, gradual process. I don't know if this is just a temporary reprieve, but for now, it just feels like... magic.

***

I often have nightmares, and they usually involve me being hunted, chased, and killed, often along with friends, family, or other people who are depending on me for some unknown reason. I've gotten used to them, and can tell you which ways I would prefer not to die - being disemboweled, for example, really sucks. Anyways, I had a series of nightmares last night, the usual gory chases, but the last one actually disturbed me. I was with a group of maybe 20 people, we were the good guys, and we were being pursued by a larger, stronger group of people. Their leader finally caught up to us as we were preparing to defend ourselves, and it turns out that it was Apple. I was so hurt and felt so betrayed that he of all people would be hunting us and trying to kill us, but it seemed that he was just doing what had to be done. He said that he would give us two days to prepare, and that he and his marauders would come back then to destroy us.

I told Apple about that one, and he was horrified, and asked what it could mean - was it a meaningless mash-up of the day, was it a premonition of something to come? After a moment of thought, I said that I thought it was probably my subconscious expressing fear that he was going to hurt me, maybe not now, but some time in the near future, and that I had best prepare myself for it as much as possible. He was still horrified, and said he had no reason to hurt me and would never do so intentionally. I reminded him that our situation isn't really ideal for everyone coming out with no hurt feelings.

***

It's so funny that things have turned out this way. I really thought that Apple and I would have a fun fling - he is an incorrigible flirt with this larger than life public persona, and seemed to be someone I could never fall in love with. He thought I was a cold, unattainable lawyer type. And now look at the mess we're in.

Do you remember that episode of Sex and the City when Big gave Carrie the pink head for his electric toothbrush?

Last night, Apple came home with a new sonic toothbrush and was all excited because it came with two heads, one dark blue and one light blue, and he was all, "Look! There's one for you, too! But only if you want one, you don't have to use it, whatever you want to do." I assented, and he said, "OK, which one do you want? I'm guessing the light blue one, but you can use whichever one you prefer." So funny. He gets very excited about the funniest things - when he ordered a key for me, he was so excited that he told me the same day he had done it, even though the key wouldn't be ready till later (it takes a week for new keys to be made here, because they're registered and very pricey).

And yes, he was right, I chose the light blue toothbrush head. It tickles.

***

Just had lunch at the local office of the company I'll be working for, with a friend who works for them and is in town for a couple weeks - they recently moved into new, bigger offices that have been redone to match the company culture, and the offices are so cool. There are fire poles (which seem like a huge risk, given the large number of absent-minded computer engineers there), a slide, a chill-out room, teleconference rooms made out of old ski gondolas and named after local beers or planets from Star Wars, and of course, free lunch. The mini chocolate souffles were exquisite.

Leaving for a weekend trip to Latvia and Estonia tomorrow morning with Kanga. Then I'll go to Copenhagen for a day before going to Luxembourg to chill for a couple days while Apple is there on a business trip.

No handle or spout, though.

In my downtime between jobs, I'm living with Apple and doing some sporadic traveling. I have some administrative things I have to do - taxes, organizing my move, and so on, but I'm otherwise fairly free, now that I finally got all of my stuff out of the old apartment and into storage.

Apple, on the other hand, works full time and spends half of each week in Luxembourg for work.

I love him, he's my boyfriend, he's letting me stay with him for free (despite our vast differences in terms of housekeeping tendencies), so I figure that the least I can do is make home life a little easier for him while I'm here.

This puts me (temporarily, definitely only temporarily) in the position of pseudo-housewife. I make the bed. I do laundry. I run errands. I buy groceries. I cook dinner. Because it's only for a little while, and it isn't really expected of me, it's sort of a fun game for now - it's like playing House. I really can't imagine this being my entire life, though, it's not something I'm good at, and it's not something I would have the patience to do for years on end - how do housewives do it?? And how do they do it with screaming children swarming all over them?? Give me a desk job any day...

Last night was a classic "Honey, I'm home" working man-housewife kind of scenario. I was in the kitchen, cooking dinner, and Apple walked in the door. Fiver ran up to him and did his "Yay, one of my humans is home" dance, and Apple hung up his coat and took off his shoes. I came out of the kitchen, wiping my hands on a dishtowel, and gave him a kiss hello, whereupon he whipped out a bouquet of roses he had been hiding behind his back. It's so trite, yet it isn't something I ever really pictured happening in my life, since I've never really seen myself as a housewifely kind of person.

On a side note, the bouquet was 20 roses. Not twelve, not 24. Twenty. Europe seems to have gone metric in everything, including flowers.

Back to the kitchen - we have dinner guests coming in an hour.

My first day of work is two months from today, if you count "today" as the 27th, which it technically no longer is, but I still count it as the 27th, since it was the 27th when I woke up this morning.

It has been strange, dismantling my life in a piecemeal fashion. Most moves are short, sudden, and chaotic. Mine is long, drawn-out, and chaotic. You can never get rid of the chaotic part, can you?

First was the end of work. Then a party. Then packing and moving stuff to Kanga's place. Then moving into Apple's (which involved more logistics than you would think would be required for a stay of two months, since Apple is an "everything in its right place" kind of person, which meant that everything I brought into the apartment had to be evaluated and its place found). Then the attempt to sell or find takers for all of my stuff - in the end, a few of my friends came and picked through the remnants of my life and took it away in shopping bags. Then the official moving out of my apartment (which is only halfway over - the landlord did an initial once-over today, and will do the final assessment on Saturday). Then the cancellation of phone lines and internet, deregistration with the authorities and final taxes, last travel arrangements and forms and stamps and signatures. Then the arrangements with the new employer for the shipment of person, dog, and belongings. And so on.

That stuff is all stressful and time-consuming, but at least there is an official protocol for how it is done. How do you take apart the non-tangible, non-billable parts of your life? I didn't know how to do it when I left Boston and New York, and I don't know how to do it now, either.

***

Caught up with a few friends in Amsterdam, and have been
trying to get in lots of "One Last [___]" kinds of things while I still
have the time. Still need to do one last fondue, and one last hamam.
Kanga and I will soon have our one last weekend trip. There are so many
One Lasts to do, I'm afraid I'll forget some of them until it's too
late.

***

Things have (un)fortunately been going really well with Apple. We spend a lot of time together, and haven't killed each other yet, which is shocking, given his inability to stand chaos and my inability to avoid it. We went on a spontaneous road trip this past weekend, and he had a business trip during the week, and I decided to join him for the night. Even after all of that traveling together, we're still talking to each other, miracle of miracles.

We ate a lot. We spent a lot of time in saunas. We saw castles. I tried not to puke from carsickness. He missed out on a ski weekend. And we were both OK with it. It snowed for most of the weekend, and we didn't care - in fact, the snow was really beautiful when we were in the outdoor thermal baths.

We realize and try to forget that there aren't that many weeks left between now and when I leave, but with that thought in a prominent corner of my mind (next to the pink elephant and purple hippopotamus and other things that are supposed to be ignored) I've booked tickets to join him on two business trips to Luxembourg. I can do my taxes and other miscellaneous administrative stuff while he works, and we can still see each other at night.

We like to surprise each other - he left work early to pick me up at
the airport when I got back from Amsterdam, and he popped out of the office to surprise me when my train got in on his business trip. I "stole" his camera and spent a cold, windy day in Amsterdam looking for a place to print a photo and a shop to buy a frame. We leave each other silly notes using dry erase markers on the mirror. He tries to sneak emails to me after I go to sleep so that I'll read them in the morning after he's already flown to Luxembourg. I sometimes even cook and do the dishes, and I have a severe dislike of dirty dishes, so much that when I told 2FX about it, he said, "Wow, this sounds serious." D'oh.

This is how pathetic I have become. Bleargh, I never wanted to be That Girl, and I didn't think he would be that kind of guy. This definitely was not supposed to happen.

***

Found out that my Foul Weather Friend's fiance died in a diving accident a couple of weeks ago, and I have been a bit off-kilter since then. I am (was?) friends with them both, not great friends, but friends. I've gone diving with them both. In fact, he did my certification for Nitrox and drysuit diving. It's horrifying to imagine being her - saying goodbye to him that morning and watching him load his gear and tanks into the car, and then not having him come back. And it's terrifying to think that that could be me or anyone else I know who dives. Well, maybe not us, since we don't do the hardcore tech diving that he was into, but it's still unsettling. At least he died doing what he loved best, but sometimes you wish that life would give you a little more notice before fucking everything up, you know?

***

Speaking of diving - Bonaire is steadily approaching! Not in a continental (or island) drift kind of way. Time-wise. Kanga is looking at swimsuits, Apple bought a Nano and a bunch of gear, I got a new mask and spring straps for my fins. It's like spring, except that instead of crocuses and daffodils, we have bottles of sunscreen and bags of gear popping up all over the place. Sniffing the neoprene makes me happy - Pavlov for divers

***

OK, I'm tired. Bedtime. Tomorrow and Saturday, I hope to get much more of the remainder of my life dismantled, so that I can go on living the part of it that I have kept without distraction.

Here I am (in pajamas) with Fiver, who is somewhat inexplicably dressed in a shirt and tie belonging to Apple - I don't really remember why:

With Apple after a fancy schmancy dinner out on Saturday:

And here we are all together, looking totally grubby after a day at Ikea the other week:

***

I've done some packing, had a housecooling party, and have begun tying up loose ends, one by one. Blech. It seemed like I would have a lot of time to get the packing and moving done, but I just realized that I have to be out of my apartment by maybe the 26th or so, and I'll be traveling for eight of the days between now and then. Oops. Lots of errands to run in the meantime, and I managed to slice my thumb open yesterday, which makes packing a bit slower.

I finished work on Thursday, and it's a bit surreal. Friday, I slept in. Saturday, Apple and I woke up at 8:30, and after some dilly-dallying, we had breakfast at his place. (Bacon! Eggs! Toast! Juice! Lattes! Apparently some people do things like this at home as a matter of course.) Then we ran errands all day - we hit a few dive shops, went grocery shopping, and so on, then got ready and went to his friend's house for a party around 8 p.m. The party was quite civilized and low-key, and it ended at midnight - Apple and I were thinking of either going home, or going to another party some of his other friends were having. Instead, the friends we were with convinced us to go out with them to a club, where we stayed until about 4 a.m. Hit a kebab stand, then went home and went to sleep around 6. Whew, I'm getting too old for all these late nights, but they keep happening - the past month or two have been full of late nights out.

In any case, at some point on Saturday, I thought, "Oh, no, it's Saturday, which means that tomorrow is Sunday, which means that the next day is Monday, which means... oh, right. Monday doesn't really mean anything anymore, at least for the next couple months. Oh, OK, then. Whew."

***

Bonaire is booked! Actually, Apple and I booked a three-week trip the same night I posted the last entry, and Kanga and my old officemate booked the next day for a 10-day trip in the middle of our 3-week stay. A few others - 2FX, Roo, and another girl - may join at some point, as well. I'm really excited! We're renting two houses, Apple and Kanga are going to do their certification together, and we'll just hang out, dive, sleep, eat, play Uno, watch sunsets, sit on the beach, have cookouts, and just chill. All of the other dive trips I've done have been great, I've really enjoyed them, but I've never been able to cajole more than one person into joining in (timing, price, and vacation days usually get in the way), so to have four or even seven people going on a trip together will be fantastic.

Kanga and I also booked a long weekend to go up to Latvia and Estonia, and I'll do a quick stop in Denmark, as well. That's going to get me to my 46th country - it's not looking likely that I'll reach 50 before leaving Europe. Oh well, 46 is pretty good, and I'm doing a good bit of traveling before I leave; it's just that I'm doing some repeat visits to places I've already been.

***

Despite having almost three months off, I still feel like I don't have enough time to do all the stuff I need to do. I'm having a housecooling (as opposed to housewarming) party this Friday, so there are all the usual party preparations to be made. My dive gear needs to be serviced and packed. I need to see about getting new parts for my camera housing. I need to pack my stuff up and put most of it in storage with Kanga. I need to arrange for the transatlantic move. Fiver needs to be checked and OK'ed for emigration. I need to file two sets of taxes, pay my bills, and arrange for my presence here to be slowly erased - cancel my DSL and phone lines, sell my furniture, arrange for the apartment to be cleaned and painted, deregister with the authorities, get my pension payments back, and a billion other things that just don't seem like they'll fit in between all of the stuff I'd rather be doing...

***

It's funny, to finally be leaving. Strange. It's always hard leaving your life behind, and I've done it several times before, but this time is going to be just as hard as the others, and maybe worse. Something about living here really intensifies your relationships with people - you have more free time and a smaller network, and so the people that you do know, you get to know very well. I've known Kanga (and then Roo) for most of the time I've been here, and it's going to be so strange to say goodbye. It's sort of like college, when you say goodbye to your roommate at the end. You know you'll still be great friends and that you'll stay in touch and see each other when you can, but it's never going to be the same kind of "Hey, it's Tuesday and I'm bored, let's watch a DVD and eat some pizza" relationship, because it just isn't possible anymore.

And the boy thing is odd, too. I left 2FX behind when I left New York, and that was hard, but the nature of our relationship was such that we both just saw it as the best thing for me to do, so I did it. We broke up afterwards, but we remained the best of friends, and I don't regret it.

Living here, I've sort of constantly had it in the back of my mind (or the front of my mind, sometimes) that I would be moving on and moving back, and the guys I've dated have always known that, although some accepted the idea more than others. It never particularly bothered me - I'm not sure why - and I always just assumed that I would find a job, break up, and move. Period. No long distance relationship. No "follow me back to the States." No worries and no regrets. Plenty of fish in the sea, and the fishing is better out there, anyways, right?

Apple half-jokingly asked me last week, maybe, "Why did this have to happen?" And I half-jokingly replied, "It's karma. We both sort of screwed over our last exes. It's our turn now." D'oh.