Don't Panic

Austin. It's a nice enough place. A little humid for my taste, but a nice place. The people are very friendly. We live in a suburb called Cedar Park. When we moved into our apartment, it was blindly done. We had no idea what it would be like. It turned out to be like this:

Hey, look! A cute apartment!

It's squarish and clean, with high ceilings, tall windows, new paint and new carpet. I like it. Except it took a while to get rid of that iggish new carpet smell, which has a way of lingering FAR longer than necessary in your abode. Especially since you can't just open the windows to air the place out, because it would negate the fact that you're blasting the air conditioning so that you aren't murdered in your beds by the marauding monkeys of humidity that are roaming at large about the land.

(Brief Side Note: The definition of Humidity. The feeling of humidity is most accurately compared to the sensation that a bunch of evil monkeys who had been previously swimming in a giant vat of molasses and honey have crawled out of said vat and are now clinging to you, draping themselves on your till their weight becomes unbearable, and it begins to become a chore to breathe. Sweating then occurs.

It's really not that humid in Austin. I just wanted to tell what humidity feels like. End Brief Side Note.)

Anyway, other than the smell, the place was lovely. And then the people with our stuff came and delivered it all. There were boxes of various sizes all over the place in tall stacks. It looked like the New York City skyline had moved into our new place with us- I told you that we had high ceilings! We got to work unpacking, and were chugging along just fine until I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.

It was a CRICKET! I got startled and made some kind of wHeLP?!!!! noise while pointing in its general direction, indicating to Andrew that he was to play the part of Knight in Shining Armor, and remove the cricket from the premises. Andrew performed his job admirably, grabbing a large plastic goblet we happened to have sitting on the counter, and running about after the cricket until he got the goblet over its creepy little cricky body. He then took it outside and set it free. There's no point in just killing the things, that's not very nice! The cricket probably just took the wrong exit off of the Insect Interstate, and was trying to find a way back on the highway, and wound up in our place instead. Why kill the thing for taking the wrong turn? I get lost all the time! I don't want to be killed for it!

We got back to work after that, laughing at the encounter. A few minutes later, I saw something out of the OTHER corner of my eye. ANOTHER CRICKET! Sheesh! Another noise and arm flail notified Andrew of the location of the next cricket. No sooner had that cricket been disposed of- we saw another! We jokingly started a tally that reached a serious count of 14 crickets caught by that evening. We tried to figure out where they might be coming from- how could 14 crickets get in while the movers were carrying in boxes? Could there be a cricket infestation at one of the warehouses, and they got into our couch???

The worst part for my nerves came in the evening, when I was jumpy from a bunch of crickets appearing in the corners of my eyes all day. Andrew and I had made progress in the living room, and we now had a place to sit in the middle of the floor and play a game or two. As we were lounging on the floor, relaxing, Andrew managed to get my mind off of marauding crickets and get me to call down- until, that is, he looked right behind me and said, "Don't panic."

Of course, I seized up in complete fear and started squirming about. I mean, honestly, what the heck kind of reaction are you expecting when you look over someone's shoulder, find a terror-inducing creature, and then say "Don't panic"? I mean, really! By this time, Andy could catch a cricket with hardly any effort at all. As soon as he did, I sat up and said something to the effect of "IF THERE ARE ANY MORE CRICKETS, I'M GOING TO FIND SOMETHING TO PROTECT MY HEAD WHILE SLEEPING!" During my declaration and decidedly pathetic meltdown, Andy looked behind me at the arm of the couch and said once again in his unconcerned tone, "Don't panic." 

I flipped.

I ran into our room and threw myself on the bed. There hadn't been very many crickets in our room, mostly out in the other rooms. But then there was one in our bedroom. Andy ran in and got that one while I was having an emotional breakdown on the bed. I grabbed the thing nearest to me, which happened to be a pair of Valentine's Day boxers (clean, mind you), and stuffed it on my head. I stayed like that for the rest of the night.

I just needed to last another day or two, when we would be driving out to Tennessee to visit my family for a week or so before Andy's job started and vacation days became a thing of theory, kind of like recess. Fortunately, the next day we found out that there was a hole in our living room floor behind the couch. We plugged it up, the bug killer dude came by and sprayed around the building, and our cricket problem was cut into a fourth of what it was before. We were very grateful. Of course, that meant that by the time we got home from our trip we had loads of dead crickets to clean up. And dried up cricket carcasses explode if you try to sweep them up. Just so you know.

A Reason for Not Posting- Dear Grandpa

So, one of the many reasons that I have not posted for over two months is that my very beloved grandfather, Gary James Chelson, Sr., passed away on July 2. I flew from Austin to Portland to be with my family for the funeral service and the celebration of Grandpa's life. Rejoicing in conversation and song with a whole herd of extended family is a great way to recognize the wonderful posterity and legacy that Grandpa left behind.

The whole family was able to be there except for the two kids on missions, and Andy, who couldn't get out of work. It was great to have everyone together again. The last time that we had all been together was for a very different occasion- my wedding. That's when the family was last together, and we were all laughing and happy and rejoicing in the forging of a new family. Once again we were celebrating the bands of familyhood as we remembered Grandpa and his influence on our of our lives.

I, being one of the oldest grandchildren, remember a lot more about Grandpa than a lot of the younger children. Grandpa is very tall, a giant! And he has very, very large hands. His hands are strong, but very loving. Grandpa loves to serve, and he loves the gospel. He loves his Savior.

Grandpa played lots of games with the kids before his diabetes got worse. He would bounce us on his knees, and tickle us. He'd stick his thumb in your armpit and wiggle it around while demanding the return of his finger, while you were begging for the cessation of tickles. He would drop a dollar from up high, and you could keep it if you could catch it before it hit the ground. He would give shoulder rides. As his diabetes got worse, he lost one of his legs, his vision became poor, and he was not always lucid. But he would always say, "Hello, pretty girl!" when I came to visit him.

Grandpa has a wonderful bass voice. He sings very low! I think of him when I hear beautiful songs like "Shenandoah," which is one of his favorites. I'm sure he's back to singing again up in Paradise, meeting with all of his loved ones who passed on before him, including my aunt who died when she was four. It must be nice to see her again.

Though it is strange to think that Grandpa is not over there in Portland anymore, it is comforting to know that the gospel of Jesus Christ is a true gospel, and that families can be together forever. God be thanked for the gift of his Beloved Son, and the wondrous Plan of Salvation and Happiness.

My Favorite Blog Reader

Dear Favorite Blog Reader,

I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you and your ingenious methods of finding that which you seek. I also wanted to tell you that I love your sense of humor and zeal, your fine sense of taste and style, your elegant turn of phrase. I hope that you and I will be friends for a very long time. I hope that you weren't actually looking for something else, that may be misunderstood by other people. I hope that you aren't really such a troubled individual.

I sometimes wonder how many times you must have pushed the "next" button on Google search in order to find this place. You have so much patience! I got bored after only pushing it TWICE! Or maybe it was once... I've already forgotten, and I just barely opened a new tab to check it out for myself, too. And then I closed it once my investigation was over. And I've forgotten. But I know that I am not near the top of the list of results. I'm not in the first few results, and that generally calls for another search keyword combination. But you? No. You persevered. I respect that in a person. Perseverance.

Although I have no idea what you were actually looking for, I am glad that you found this humble blog. I hope that you stayed for more than just a minute before going back to your daily life. I hope that you found more than just a story about lost personal property. I hope that you found entertainment, pizazz, intelligence, genius, sparkle, and finely honed wit. I hope that you found wonderful works of art, and insightful interpretations of said art. I hope that you found something that was worth reading. Because you deserve it.

Yes, I'm talking to you. The reader who found this blog by searching: "her pants fell down."

Welcome to the State Of.....Limbo

Andrew and I have officially moved. We are no longer college students in a college town! We are confused people in a different college town than the one that we went to. We're trying to be big kids and get all settled into our new situation before Andrew starts his big kid job at a company called National Instruments (often referred to as NI) at the end of the month. The problem is that nothing has really gone very smoothly in this whole escapade. I would chronicle the whole thing on here for everyone to read, but that would take about seventeen years, and I don't really want to do that. So I won't. :)

I will tell you a few blurbs of what happened along the way.

(This is Andy, in the blue.  I know you may not be used to hearing from me here, but I decided to chime in as I proofread this post.  Anyways, these blurbs sum up just about the whole story as if it were all told.  Not sure how she avoided the 17 years, but we're lucky she did.)

Blurb Numero Uno: Austin Round One

Andrew and I came down to Austin on a house hunting trip in the beginning of May. This was just a few weeks after graduation, so we were as fresh as a patch of dandelion weeds (and almost as intelligent) while marching around down here. We were searching for a cute little rental HOUSE where we could live for a while, saving up for a down payment for a purchase later. After much searching and confusedness, we found a place that we liked. Really liked. Have you ever found a place that you went in, and you could just envision a haven of domestic felicity and marital bliss? You know, the kind that comes with Him walking through the door at 5:59, and Her having dinner ready on the table, and He says, "You wonderful babe of a woman, you, I'm taking you on a date to the theatre this evening!" and She says, "You wonderfully kind hunk, you, I've made you a scrumptious dinner!" and He says, "Mine darling, would you care to crochet while I read to you later this evening?" and She says, "Oh YES! I've been needing a bit of relaxing!" and He says, "And while I'm at it, why don't I give you a foot rub and tell you all the reasons why you're the best newlywed housewife in the world!" (She is, by the way.)

You know. That kind?

Blurb the Second: Signing and Waiting

Well, after all my bizarre delusions of grandeur, I decided that this was the one that I wanted. So we put in our application on the place, and we waited. A lot. Apparently all of the credit check agencies were backed up from Elko, Nevada to Moscow because of all the other people who also were trying to rent places to live.  (Texas in general, and Austin in particular, haven't seen much of an economic downturn and is a magnet for business growth these days.  And people too - the kind car rental person told us that 60,000 people move to Austin each year.) I don't see why the credit check people couldn't just see by my extraordinarily pretty name that I should be the first in line! I mean, really- Natashya. Think about it. It's a gorgeous name. So we waited a week for what usually took just a day. And then we got the news- "Yall got the house!!! I'm going to send you the contract in a day or two!"- from our real estate agent. (Who pulled all the strings for us, but still didn't get things to work out.  She deserves some cookies or something)  We liked that news.

Blurb Terceiro: Making Moving Arrangements

We signed the contract with relish and flourish, savoring the moment. Our first rented house! We called the moving company, and scheduled everything to be moved the last week of the month of May: we were to move in on June 1! (It should also be noted that whenever I say the words "We called... scheduled... set up..." and other such phrases, unless otherwise stated, I mean "Andrew" instead of "we.")

Fourth Blurb: Flergh to all Mondays and Phones!

On Monday, that fateful Monday................................ Something TERRIBLE happened! You know when the phone rings, and you just get that feeling- that feeling that comes with foreboding, like you just know that it's your project partner calling you to say that he or she didn't do their part of the presentation, which is due in about 30 minutes, even though they had 17 days to work on it? That feeling that comes with a gnawing sense of dread that hangs on to the corners of your mouth and pulls them down towards the earth? That feeling that comes with unease that grabs on to your eyebrows and drags them in and down towards your nose, forming crinkles of worry on your concerned brow?  (Oh, all too well.  Most group projects in school were terrible.  Except for a few my senior year, like the project for Kinematics where we made a chime-piano, or for Dynamics where we-- but that's another story. Or several.)

The phone rang on that fateful Monday, and it was accompanied by THAT kind of dark feeling. I didn't want Andrew to answer it. I knew it would be bad. Besides, Andrew was napping, and he can get cranky when he's tired. I shouldn't have to deal with bad news AND a cranky Randy. But answer he did. And I wished again that he hadn't.  (Though, it should be noted that I didn't get cranky.  She did.)

It turns out that our brand new landlady had be served with divorce papers that morning, and was therefor by law unable to let out the property. (And WHY is it called being SERVED with divorce papers? That's hardly an act of service to anyone. It's bad enough that they they ruin other people's lives, but to ruin their own marriage? That's just a mean thing.) So........................................ we don't have that house anymore. It's kind of heartbreaking, especially after all of those silly little daydreams I concocted for the house. I knew where my garden would be, where the flowers would go, where my craft table would go, and what kind of curtains I would make for the windows.  (Except the last part, I hadn't got to that yet in my fantasies. But I would have shortly after. It was the next step.)  (Guys - did you know that girls do this all the time?  News to me.  I had no clue any of this had gone on in her head.  Also, they apparently all have their weddings planned by something like age 12, while us guys even age 25 have come to the decision that maybe they might like to get married if they could someday.  Consider yourself warned.)

And I should also add here a cute story-within-a-story.  Tashya was furious at the soon-perhaps-to-be-ex-husband of the landlady for taking this to court at this time.  She was just shy of wishing some imagined past mafia connection resurface and exact its vengeance on him.  But! - not before wanting to give the landlady (She was apparently the one wanting to lease to us.)  some cookies and a hug.  

Blurb Five: Homeless and Not Much Time

We knew that we were moving in a few weeks, but we had nowhere to move INTO! We got a little nervous. So we looked online again, saw that all of the other houses that we were interested in were taken, and that we were either going to have to live far FAR away from work, or live in an apartment. There was an APARTMENT (Note the capitalized HOUSE in blurb Numero Uno) complex in the area that we had been looking in, and we heard from some friends that it was a nice place. We signed a contract without ever seeing the place in real life since we needed somewhere to live. We'll see it for the first time tomorrow, when we can officially move in to our new home.

Lurbbay the Ixthsay: Sitting in Austin and Waiting

All of our stuff is on a truck somewhere, including our car. We've been staying in a temporary living place. I know that sounds like we're staying somewhere we'll only be alive for a short amount of time, but it's actually just a furnished apartment. No death traps or superhero stuff. It's really not all that dangerous!  (As far as we can tell!!) Except for the fact that we moved in above a guy who just had abdominal surgery, and wants us to "not step too heavily" for the next two months while he recovers. I don't know which is worse: being the healing person or being the person tiptoeing around being paranoid about being the fat oaf that disturbs the healing person. I suppose that I'll get over it a lot faster than Downstairs Man will, though. I'll be cured as soon as we move into our new place.  He may take a while to heal...

Also...when the Downstairs Man left us a note on our door, it was addressed to Ignacio and Mauricio.  I'm not sure what prompted that.  Did we sound overly Mexican or something?

Blurb Last: The Wrap Up

So ya, that's the basics of what's been going on with us. Now that we're not dying of dehydration or stress anxiety, and rather more amused at the fact that humidity makes my hair curly, I'll try to keep people more up to date on things in the Heim world. Does that sound good to people? I hope it does. Because that's what's going to happen.

Have a glorious day!
Your friendly local (or non-local, as the case may be) Moi
(And also Andy)