Resolution

I know when I write these posts that I leave you all literally hanging from the edge of your chairs. So I thought I would give you some resolution to ease your concern. Let you breathe a little easier knowing my life is not going to fall apart. (A fact I was not nearly so confident about a week ago.)

1. While extremely inconvenient, one can survive without being able to communicate via phone. My new phone shipped yesterday and should be here by the end of the week. Change is good sometimes even though I generally accept it kicking and screaming.

2. I received 2 apologies from 2 separate people at the office of the City Clerk of Cook County regarding the erroneously sent license. Both copied a myriad of other employees on their response, told me they were also forwarding it to the xyz department, and one asked for me to inform them of the person's name and address to whom my license was mailed. Sorry, didn't record that information. Seems like a classic case of talks a lot, but doesn't say much. Thanks, Chicago.

3. After more hunting for competitive rates for my HSA and coming up with nothing, I found a way to skirt the eligibility rules for the original credit union I wanted to join. Apart from the community where you live or work, you can also be eligible by belonging to one of a certain set organizations. So last night, before opening my new savings account and Health Savings Account with 2.5% APY, I paid my membership dues for none other than...................
the National PTA.

My new health insurance policy starts tomorrow.

All will be well. Get the heck out of here, June.

Coming in threes

They say these rough things come in threes, so I'm hoping I'm done for a bit.

Yesterday was another overwhelming day of wading through banking and insurance issues. I got all ready to make a decision and sign myself up for a savings and Health Savings Account with a reputable-looking credit union, and found out that I am ineligible. I don't live/work in the right community of Chicago. I went for a walk and called Gram for a little relief and support. We had a wonderful conversation, I hung up, and my phone promptly stopped working. I can make and receive calls--they can hear me, and I hear nothing. Nothing.

Called my service provider this morning from my friend's phone. They told me to call Motorola. Called Motorola, they said it's a hardware issue, my warranty has expired and I can send the phone in to them for repairs. It will take 5-7 business days and will cost $75. A new phone costs $79.99. What a crock. I hate that we make things that break after a year and then charge the same amount to repair as to replace. It's the story of stuff all over again.

Ordered a new phone with an extra hundred bucks I can't afford right now, and commented to my roommate at the same time that I still don't have my license back even though my check to the city for my traffic ticket cleared a while ago.

While eating breakfast the doorbell rang. A young guy came up the stairs holding my license telling me that there had been a mistake and he'd gotten this license in the mail that wasn't his. Sure enough it was mine. I looked at the envelope. It wasn't even that the postal worker just delivered it to the wrong address. THE CITY ADDRESSED IT TO THE WRONG PERSON/ADDRESS. My license. Sometimes I hate Chicago. How do I file a complaint about that?

At least I got it back. Hopefully this neighbor is trustworthy and didn't copy down any of my info. Thank goodness my soc # isn't written on it.

Lederhosen-ed Lap Dance

Went to a bonified German restaurant to eat some schnitzel and hear "Edelweiss" played on the cow bells. I got a little more than I bargained for when the Lederhosen-clad yodeler came out into the crowd with his tuba, encouraging innocent diners to toss a quarter into the mouth of the instrument. Mine went in (as did many others'), but upon the clickety clack of the tuba swallowing my quarter, the yodeler pulled out my chair and sat in my lap for the rest of the song.
Note to self: watch out for those Germans.

Recital Takes

Last night was the first night of four of our annual recitals. Everything went extremely smoothly, and the kids played and sang well. All were instructed to announce their pieces before starting, "My name is XX, and I will be playing XX."

One eager performer went up to the mike and said, "Well. The piece I'm planning to play is Morning Mood.

Which I will.

In case you haven't already noticed.

And also (holding up his music), my mom taped a cereal box to the back of my music so it wouldn't fall down.

So, here goes this thing.

Walking away from the mike to the piano, calls out over his shoulder..) Enjoy!"

After playing spectacularly he bowed three times.

Next time I perform, I'm taking my cues from him!

Rollin in the 2-5

A coworker's boyfriend made this awesome rap video about my Chicago 'hood -- the beautiful Lincoln Square (zip 60625). For those of you who don't know, Chicago is made up of many neighborhoods much like NY's Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Chelsea, etc, except ours are a little smaller. Each community has it's own flavor, demographic make up, and local pride. I've been a Lincoln Square-er since I moved to Chicago 4 years ago, and I wave my banner high!

Enjoy this little taste of my neighborhood! Those of you who have come to visit will probably recognize several of the featured locales...

Held Hostage

Tuesday night another drop fell into my cup. Sounds benign enough, except that I didn't realize how dangerously close my cup was to spilling over. So close, in fact, that surface tension was the only thing holding it together. Wednesday morning I felt subdued, not my normally cheerful self. Imagine the wobbly moment when you wonder if the water will spill or not. Wednesday afternoon the stuff hit the fan. The cup ranneth over, and the stuff I hadn't realized was brewing came up to the surface.

And in the midst of all that, I had to go about my day. I started taking little (but giant) steps forward, squaring off with a few things that have been looming for a while. The clouds lifted temporarily for me to head over to the studio to teach a few lessons. On the way, I called Dad to talk about one good thing that happened during the day and hopefully put my spirit in a more positive place.

It was working. Nearly there, I made the final, fatal left turn.. and heard sirens scream out behind me. I pulled over and was approached by not one, but two officers on either side of the car. Strange. The driver-side officer formally informed me that I was being pulled over for performing an illegal left turn. I looked at him questioningly. Apparently the left turn is illegal between 4-6 pm Monday-Friday for rush hour. The time was 4:09.

He took my license and registration, and returned to his car while the sun beat down, burning my waiting and irritated flesh. An eternity later he reappeared, handed me the green carbon copy of my citation to mail in with my payment, the envelope, and the yellow copy to serve as my drivers' license in the meantime. "Excuse me," said I. "You are confiscating my license??"

"Yes, ma'am," said he. "That's the way it's done in the state of Illinois. We have to hold it as bond until you pay your ticket. Drive safely." And he walked away, leaving me alone to decipher the faint writing on the flurry of carbon.

Icing on the cake. My license is now being held hostage until further notice. And likely I'll mail in my fine, only to have my license get lost in the Chicago post on it's return trip to my house. The odds are not in my favor.

Stay tuned for the publication announcement of a book entitled, Caitlyn and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

To build a bookshelf..

Step 1. Lay out all the pieces.

Step 2. Pull out directions.

Step 3. Put two pieces together.

Step 4. Have dinner.

Step 5. Put two more pieces together.

Step 6. Get nearly done and wonder why there still seem to be so many pieces left over.

CRAP! This looks complicated!

Step 7. Call Dad.

Step 8. Proceed with Dad's assurance, and voila! A bookshelf is born!