A look back...

So I was just going through some VERY old emails, and I found this conversation between Matt & me from October 22, 2001. It made me giggle, and I thought I'd share it. To most of you it probably won't mean anything, but there are a couple of readers out there who may be amused.

Me: Do you want to have Jer and Irene over to watch the game tonight? That way, we could play something while you boys glance at the game. We could do spaghetti--NO! Homemade pizzas! (Don't worry--no kneading dough involved). We could still do laundry that way, too. What do you think?

Matt: that sounds good to me...what is a homemade pizza, then?? i'm not making a homemade pizza if there's no tossing of dough.

Me: Sweetie, we can TOSS, but we don't have to KNEAD. Does this mean I can go to Crate and Barrel and buy the pizza set off of our registry? I love you!

Matt: no no no no no no....that's not what i meant...hold on...that's not why we registered for it...there are some perfectly good elio's pizzas in the fridge, that sounds much better, actually. i would prefer to have frozen pizza tonight - sort of a theme, you know? frozen pizza and footbal - goes very well together. yeah, definitely frozen pizza.

Me: now look. we can't serve our guests frozen pizza. honey, that's just embarassing.

Matt: now look - they are not guests. they are jeremy and irene. they ask for hotpockets, after all, and are very happy to get those pockets. and now that i have a more complete picture, i have changed my mind about dough-tossing.

Me: Sweetie, don't be like this. You know you want to toss the dough. I won't buy the pottery barn shelf this pay period. I'll wait. Just $30! Please, sweetie, please!!! Plus, I was going to invite Brian, too. Isn't he a guest?

Matt: i'm not sure if the b-dub is a guest either - no guest of mine takes of his socks and shoes almost immediately after entering the apartment (see "Etiquette in Someone Else's Apartment" by The Croatian Sensation). And supposedly we need mid-range priced things. if you can find two (2) other items to replace the pizza stone with, then we can start talking deal here.
otherwise, it doesn't look good.

Me: Okay. How about this: in the store, I'll add the silver/metal salad bowl WITH thongs, priced conveniently at $36.95. To sweeten the deal, I'll also add the "Caliente serving pitcher" to match the salsa and chip server someone has bought us. This item is priced at $24.95.
I deem it appropriate at this point to refer you to "Guide to Serving a Meal to Non-Residents of Your Home," an impressive how-to book by "The Master Chef." The author frowns upon ill-equipped kitchens.

Matt: well, if I am going o read through the compendium that you refer to, then I would like to recommend that you read the short work entitled "Registering for Your Wedding: Having Other People Buy Things for You that You've Always Wanted" by a self-described novice in the field, Pookie T. Bear. You may have read other books by Mr. Bear, such as "How to Deal With Hair Loss -What Can I Do?" and "Irish Spring Soap - the Mystery, the Legend of the Most Popular Green Soap on the Planet (includes never-before-published interviews with the founder of Irish Spring and a special pull-out section!!)" Otherwise, that sounds fine.

The things we have to do...

So life is ridiculously insane right now. Here's what we have on our plate:

• Get estimates from movers. Wow, we've got a lot of stuff.
• Retrieve from the storage facility the stuff we put there for the sake of clearing out and "staging" the house.
• Sell lots of crap on craigslist that isn't worth moving.
• Deal with all of the people responding to the ads on craigslist.
• Cancel the phone, cable, internet, newspaper.
• Decide -- do we keep the alarm system active after we leave? I'll take comments on this point. (To consider -- sure, it seems safer. But friends in a similar boat said that realtors that show the house never really remember to re-arm the alarm when they leave, so half the time it's not on anyway.)
• Throw a good-bye par-tay.
• Sell a car.
• Buy a cheaper car.
• Figure out whether we're gonna take one or two cars to Minnesota.
• Figure out how we're gonna get all of the stuff we need up to Minnesota by ourselves, and whether we do that in one car or two cars.
• Buy a rooftop carrier, preferably used.
• Get Matt's parents' dining room table back to Matt's parents. Cheaply.
• Find someplace to stay somewhere between here and Minnesota that is a) cheap and b) doesn't mind our dog.
• Finish plans for the preschool back-to-school carnival I'm the chairwoman of. It's this Saturday. I have to be there from 5 p.m. Friday night until about 4 p.m. Saturday afternoon.
• Finish the minor home repairs identified by the inspector on our pre-listing inspection.
• Go to Home Depot to get supplies for said repairs. Cheaply.
• Pack.
  
• Decide what to pack.
• Prepare for open house on 9/26.
• Visit my family in Hendersonville to say goodbye.
• Figure out if we can get a loan for a house in Minnesota.
• Have another garage sale to get rid of more stuff so we don't deplete our entire savings in the move.
• Pray for the house to sell. Please, please, please sell.

I'm not sure we're gonna make it. Countdown to departure: 12 days.

Signs

I'm a big believer in signs. And after the past few weeks, I think Matt is, too. So this is why we're moving to Minneapolis:

• Matt was laid off on July 31st. We had been trying to get pregnant for about 10 months. We failed, without any medical explanation, and notwithstanding the fact that we'd been successful twice before on the first month out.
• At the time Matt was laid off, my parents were on an Alaskan vacation. When they returned, we told them Matt lost his job. They said, "We think you should move to Minnesota. Everyone we met on our trip was from Minnesota, and they were so nice."
• So we looked around at what Minneapolis had to offer. Seemed nice. One decent-sized firm had a posting for a corporate finance associate, so Matt sent his resume.
• Within a few days, we had a chance, last-minute visit with my aunt & uncle. My uncle (by marriage) grew up in the Twin Cities, and his dad has lots of connections there. He had us forward to his dad Matt's resume.
• My great uncle-in-law, so to speak, is golfing buddies with a guy that used to head the practice of the firm (Briggs & Morgan) that Matt had applied to. Within days, he had found out that they had decided not to hire anyone at all, "passing" on Matt's resume. But this former partner convinced them to give Matt's resume another look. They scheduled a phone interview with Matt for the following week.
• In that time, we were watching Antiques Roadshow. We were drawn to a painting, and kept talking about how much we liked it. Then someone said it was a picture of a farm in Minnesota.
• The next day Matt had his phone interview and it went great.
• The firm called two days later and the hiring partner talked to me since Matt was out golfing. He went on and on about how great of a talk they had with Matt, and asked how soon we could move there. He apologized for taking so long to get back to us (about a total of 50 hours) and said they were sure this was on our mind and wanted to get back to us before the long holiday weekend (Labor Day). Oddly compassionate and thoughtful. They said that Matt had a few more people to meet, but they thought it would be a "great fit."
  
• The next Monday, my mom was taking her students to the hospital for a tour of the area they'll be volunteering in. A nurse approached my mom and told her a woman sitting in the corner knows her and would like to speak with her. Turns out, this woman recognized my mother's name because she was a member of a group that gave me a scholarship to law school ten years ago. They started chatting, and mom finds out that this woman has a daughter who just moved to the very suburb in Minneapolis that we were leaning toward moving to.
• When we got to Minneapolis, and after Matt had received the offer (a whole 20 hours after he had finished his interview), we were taking a driving tour around. We were reconsidering the move, because money would be tight and we couldn't find decent temporary housing. We started driving in silence, listening to Weekend America on NPR. Just then, a listener called in from Edina, MN -- the exact neighborhood we fell in love with and decided to focus our home search on. And just as he said, "Edina," the water tower reading "Edina" came into view.

So, there you go. Nothing in an of itself means anything. Any many of you probably think that, even taken together, none of this stuff means anything. Probably just a coincidence. Maybe. But what the hell. We're moving to Minneapolis.