Time Marches On

So I'm still unemployed. Big news of the day, eh? I've e-mailed or snail-mailed about another dozen resumes in the last week, three going out tomorrow to Sarris, First National Bank of Pennsylvania, and to Duquesne University. I really hope something turns up. I don't think we can make it on two part-time incomes and live in the greater Pittsburgh areas.

I officially became a Pennsylvania resident today. I'm trying to contain my excitement. I thought I'd be okay with relinquishing my California residency...but it sucks a little bit. If things had gone like we'd originally planned - if Rob's work had been steady and he'd gotten steady increases in pay - we could have done really well. I know it's all said and done and that it just didn't work out but if you've never had to start over at nearly 30 years old, you don't know just how much it can suck. But the nice lady at the DMV in Meadville punched a hole in my pretty, yellow license and the nice old man (who, oddly enough, worked with Rob six years ago at AutoZone) handed me my temporary license with my god-awful picture on it. Same license number I had six years ago, same address. Meh.

Also, can someone explain to me how our country was so blind as to believe Barack Obama could be good for our country? This man is out of control. Oh, but he's not a socialist. Nope. Not a chance. MEH.

I'm feeling very cynical today. Do I have any readers who live in or near Pittsburgh? Do you know of anyone hiring? Any tips would be greatly appreciated.

And a big, belated congratulations to Kate, my college roommate and one of my bestest friends, who gave birth to a baby girl last week, Kelsey Jo. YAY!

Stipulations and such

So apparently, when you sign a contract, you actually have to hold up your end of the bargain. For example: you ask a company to allow you to run their ads on your blog. They say, "Sure! Even though your blog is small and hardly noteworthy, you get maybe four hits per week, you can run ads through us and you'll get a hearty percentage of the hit value." I'm stunned; I was under the impression that only big, important blogs - even ones who take a walk on the controversial side and suffer the loss of readership for their efforts - got to run ads on their site.

So anyway, one of the stipulations was that I had to update at least once weekly or they'd pull my ad code. My last post was March 25th. Whoopsie!

I will, from now on, attempt to update at least weekly, if not more often. The thing is, where before I was living in an 850 ft² apartment, I'm now living in a big-ass house (relatively speaking) where kids can roam freely. My hands are full. Thus, I have little time to sit and focus on a blog. So to both BlogHer and my faithful three readers, I apologize for not blogging as often as I contractually should.

So what's happening here? Rob flew out to California this past Thursday to buy a pick-up truck and haul our stuff back to Pennsylvania. He found a 1989 Ford F-150 and rented a small U-Haul trailer; he and his brother are loading everything up as I type and are departing in the wee hours of tomorrow morning. Yay! After that, we'll officially become Pennsylvania residents again. Oy. Unnerving, really, especially since I'm still unemployed and didn't get that job at the high school.

Did I mention it's snowing today? Yeah. It's April and it's snowing. Up to a FOOT by Wednesday morning. I miss California.

Welcome back, Mr. Kotter.

So I'm sitting here in what's now my mom's office. It was first my bedroom, then my playroom, then it was a piano room for a while (even though we kept calling it the toy room), and after we moved out, it was mom's office. Don't get confused: she doesn't actually need an office. But it's where she keeps all her papers and stuff.

We've hooked up our desktop PC and it's all less-than-conveniently shoved on to one corner of the desk, tower parallel to the monitor, sitting directly behind it, printer perched on top of the tower. We're using dial-up until the Windstream people come and install the DSL on Wednesday. I told mom to tell whomever she spoke with that I was capable of installing a DSL modem but apparently she either didn't or they ignored her. So we signed up for free Netzero until they get here. Bah. Dial-up is so. friggin. SLOW.

My travels were as smooth and easy as can be expected. All of my flights left on time. Southwest is exceptionally punctual. We left within five minutes of our scheduled take-off with both of my flights. My only complaint? I wish I could have flown alone. I understand I couldn't leave both kids with my husband and take the easy way out and that the intent of the generous ticket purchase was to alleviate the mind-numbing terror of driving for three days with a young toddler...but it would have been so relaxing to be without the inherent worry for a child all day. Not to mention the inevitable tears and frustration that goes with being stuck in a carseat all day, the pressure that builds up in his little ears despite incessant binky suckage, being too excited to eat, the hassle of security, and the whiplash he must have after the pilot hit the brakes in our 737 in Pittsburgh. The poor kid was conked out right through our descent but snapped to (quite literally) when they hit the brakes.

All in all, though, I couldn't complain. Our night with family was pleasant and, thankfully, peaceful. The minute I laid him down he stopped squirming and passed out within ten minutes. We drove up to my mom's work the next morning and had lunch, then mom and I hit the grocery store and drove "home" to Conneautville. The next morning, we met my mom's friends for lunch at the little diner in town. Rob says, when I told him what we were going to do, "You're taking my son to a hen fest?" Indeed, I was.

Everyone I've run into has said, "Welcome back!" or, even weirder, "Welcome home." It's crazy. I know it should feel like home but I still feel like an outsider. I've been gone for almost six years. Should it feel like home? "Home" for me has been in California since 2003. I can tell you it feels good to be here. I feel normal again. In California, I was a little too redneck and a little too...countrified. I'm polite to people, I'll say "Hi!" to complete strangers, I say "please" and "thank you." I hold doors open for people and expect the same from others. Rarely, if ever, did I experience that in California. Also, it seemed like no one was ever happy out there. Back here, I don't know, it seems people enjoy life a lot more. And I dig that.

So, I guess "Welcome home" maybe isn't so ill-fitting.