Please exercise patience and bear with me over the next several of months. I just purchased my one-way tickets out of the country. And it will be a hectic time. Between juggling work and attending to personal and family issues, I’m lucky if I remember to pull up a browser to even check the scores, let alone set up my XM radio to follow the game.
I just got a letter in the mail from XM reminding me that the credit card on their files is due to expire soon and to call or go online to update my account info. It is actually taped on my fridge as a reminder to cancel my account prior to packing out.
This morning, I went, for the first time in my life, to see a lawyer. There’s something sobering about getting a living will drawn up when you have yet to reach 30 years of age. And more so when your own parents have never taken the time to write wills of their own. I walked out of the building with the resolve to haul my parents’ butts into a lawyer’s office before I leave and force them to sort out their issues. It had been my intent to have my papers drawn up by a Boston area lawyer so I can coerce my parents to accompany me and get theirs done. I was turned away and advise to see a local lawyer who is familiar with the inheritance and probate laws of my state of residency, Virginia. Given that my father just underwent a major surgery less than a month ago, I only got angrier at him for being blasé enough to not attend to having a will. How can he lecture me on my keeping my affairs in order?
On the other hand, I recently did my baby cousin a favour and got her in touch with a few federal agents to talk to her about their jobs. The college kid is considering going into federal law enforcement and seemed super impressed by my connections. I admit, it feels good to be adored a bit, even if it’s by someone so impressionable.
It’s been and going to continue being a rollercoaster of sorts, especially emotionally. There’s nothing like an international relocation to make me realise as much as I talk about my childhood home of Boston that I really have grown very deep roots here in DC. And despite all my blathering about being independent and self-reliant, I have an incredible support network of family and friends that have helped me stand on my two feet.
Yea, it’ll be a busy few months. I will stay with the Red Sox as soon as I resume some sort of a routine.
Angst, Angst indeed.
|Case of Virginia wine for Dad||check|
|Bag of spices for Mum||check|
|XM radio in car for the drive||check|
|Munchies for the the drive||check|
|Full tank of gas||check|
I’m set, and ready for the drive home! The thing of it is… being able to watch the Sox games on tv is such a treat for me. I’m going to lose XM access once I move so I *might* subscribe to MLB.com but at this point I have yet to decide if it’s worth the time. Until then, going home is a treat not only because it’s home but also I get to follow the Sox. Trips like this offer me opportunities to see the team’s brilliance on screen… such as Buchholz’s no-hitter last summer.
Oh yeah… it’ll be good to see you, too, Mum and Dad. 🙂
I have a confession. I’m not going out to watch tonight’s game. Not to a bar that may be filled to the brim (ideally) with other Sox fans to celebrate together if we won and clinched the World Series.
I can’t. It’s Sunday night. I have to work tomorrow. Worse yet, I’m hanging alimbo, expecting an international phone call from my folks.
So, instead, I’ve set up my XM radio. I’ve gotten a hold of rabbit ears and a television, now in the process of set-up. Do people even know how to use rabbit ears anymore?? I’m able to pick up a fuzzy picture of the Patriots’ game, which means I got Fox, however grainy.
This was a tough call. Part of me is itching to grab my keys and troll for a Red Sox friendly spot. Or picking up the phone and calling friends to ask them to accompany me. I can’t. I’m beginning to wear them out. Heck, I’m wearing myself out.
So, tonight, if it comes to it, I celebrate alone. With a glass of wine, and an emergency borrowed television. In my pajamas, so I can just roll into bed as soon as the game is over and my blog entry posted.
Otherwise, I will, if it takes all my physical strength and willpower, haul my so-claimed Red Sox fans out with me on Tuesday. We’re gathering in town to watch some Halloween festivities anyway. They won’t be able to say no, because I will guilt-trip them. Or bribe them. Or beat them to submission. Whatever it takes. Because I made the emotional sacrifice for tonight. I celebrated 2004 alone. It didn’t make the victory any less sweet. It just would have been nice to share it.