vivi torontali

Not caught up? Read Episodes 1, 2, and 3.

In the weeks leading up to our plane’s departure, my family’s stress levels were at an all-time high. Every day, we’d work toward a deadline, making sure our documents came in exactly on time and not a minute late, and selling all of our items by the time we left. Every day my mom would tell me, “I can’t wait until things start to calm down.” Well, things finally calmed down. We now have most of our essential furniture and storage solutions, a fridge stocked full of food, and our CPR numbers. We even have our dining chairs! Now we have more than one place to sit, and we never have to resort to the windowsill or the floor again.

I’ve been getting to know the city more as a local than a tourist because I finally got to take my bike out for a spin. Most locals don’t become tourists of their own city for obvious reasons, but I think it would be a good assignment to really get to know your home. I made sure to do that before I left my hometown of Lexington. It helps that it has a visitors’ center and gift shop, which isn’t the case for most places in the States. Though I don’t normally take pride in much of America’s history, I tell absolutely everyone I know about the Midnight Ride of Paul Revere and the Battle of Lexington and Concord, the first shots of the Revolutionary War in April 1775. That’s the American pride that comes out in me every once in a blue moon.

In my last blog post, I mentioned that we were delayed in getting our CPR tax numbers. I knew that the universe would explain itself at some point as to why we would be pushed back in finding jobs and such, and I believe I now have my answer. Every single order we placed in the past couple weeks is now coming in, and we have to be at home in order to receive our door deliveries. I think our couriers got tired of us though, because now they’ve been sending everything to a nearby gas station for us to pick up. I’d walk ten minutes to pick up a bunch of boxes that I can’t possibly bring back in one round, and I’d get a lot of funny looks walking down the street. If we’re lucky enough to get furniture delivered to our door, the courier would send me an email saying it’ll come sometime between 7am and 9pm, rendering me completely useless for an entire day. At least one of us would have to be home at all times to hold down the fort in case they come. On one occasion, my parents and I had left the house for a window of 30 minutes, and that’s when my nightstand was delivered. Because we weren’t there, they decided to come back the next day and try again. If we had gotten jobs or any other responsibilities this week, we wouldn’t be able to move in as quickly and consistently as we have.

Putting together furniture has been so much fun, mainly because I’ve been wanting to get into woodworking for a while. I feel so badass with a drill in my hand screwing a shelf together. Nudli has been super helpful as well. He’s our designated paper shredder– he likes to steal cardboard and tear it up like a bunny. As a dachshund, he tends to always be in the worst possible spot. He lays down on our instruction manuals and inside of whatever we’re building, of course when he’s not sunbathing on the terrace. He’s an agent of chaos, playing with our screwdriver and getting into all sorts of other mischief. 

Everything has been going so well, it would be a shame if anything bad were to happen, right? Of course, tragedy must strike when you least expect it. Turns out, the family that took over our house decided they were no longer okay with my dog’s grave being there because it triggers the grief of their own dog. Understandably everyone goes through grief, but now my dog is buried in an unmarked grave. My sister took his headstone and scattered the rest of the decorative rocks around the backyard to appease them. It’s either that or we risk them taking it apart once my sister leaves the States permanently. At midnight I was about to fall asleep happier than I’ve been in a while, and two hours later I was still awake, freaking out after reading my sister’s texts. I’m sure there are many angles to this whole situation, but when your dog’s grave is being defiled and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it an ocean away, it’s hard to understand this other family’s perspective. 

That night I definitely missed out on my eight hours of beauty sleep, so the next morning I made some coffee, cried a lot with my parents, and then put on my favorite dinosaur show until I felt better. Later on, I got to take a nap in my hammock. We have not one, but two hammocks, and it fulfills all of my basic needs. There’s nothing like swinging comfortably soaking up the rare northern European sun, and it fits perfectly on our terrace. It’s truly healing, I’d highly recommend a hammock if you can access one.

After the sob story you just read, I feel I must make up for it with some insight on our next steps. We have our TV, hammocks and CPR numbers set up, but we still need bank accounts and jobs (ew). My boxes can now all be put away and my wall art can be hung up, which is what I’ve been looking forward to for months. All things considered, things are going in a consistently upward trajectory. Let’s just hope it stays that way.

P.S. a piece of wisdom from my mother: there are some songs out there in the world that one must simply ignore, and the Macarena is one of them.