the FEMA trailer train

I was walking from the apartment complex gym Monday morning when something caught my eye.. at the far end of the complex, toward the railroad tracks... there was a long train of white identical camper type trailers, all headed to the west.

They were going to New Orleans and the Mississippi Gulf Coast... FEMA trailers going to victims from Hurricane Katrina.

It was very surreal, to see one white, one-windowed trailer after another glide passed the apartment complex where I live. Because the track is built up higher than where I was standing, the trailers were almost parallel with my third floor apartment. Quite a juxtaposition.

While I haven't necessarily enjoyed living in an apartment complex instead of a house for the past three months, seeing hundreds of those tiny trailers glide past made me realize how lucky I am. It could be worse, God was reminding me. Be thankful for what you have.

And I'm sure that, even though the little white trailers all look the same- like a little white, squarish marshmellows- the evacuees too are probably thankful for what they have. I'm sure some of them, like me, realize that even though life isn't always what you expect, it could always be worse, and that you should be thankful for what you've got.

A place to call home

I know, I know. I haven't updated in forever. Things have been busy, or at least when interesting things have happened lately in my life, I just haven't been in the mood to write about them! Or write about anything, really, which isn't so good for a journalist. Call it a post-christmas slump that I'm just now coming out of. Things are getting better at work, although I think my hair is falling out.

It's stress.

Last weekend Mr. Goatee's parents came to town, and it just happened to be the same weekend my mom was also coming to visit. Neither of which had come to town since we had moved in together. So our parents were meeting each other, and, to add on more stress, we were all going house hunting. Mr. Goatee and I had found the cutest little fixer-upper house in a great historic district, but after looking at it, Mr. Goatee's parents vetoed the decision. (They were initially looking at the house as an investment opportunity). After having a discussion about how they were "not fixer-upper kind of people" and I, having a dad who is a contractor and only fixes up houses..... we decided that Mr. Goatee and I are probably better getting the mortgage ourselves.

The same day as the first house was vetoed, my mom suggested that we go look at another little cute house down the street from the first - one that just went on the market last week. Mr. Goatee didn't want to go, but once we looked at it, we knew that there was something about that house we liked... everything.

Unlike the first house, there is very little that we would want to change. It's completely renovated but at the same time, still a 56 year old house, which I like! Plus, there are always little things we can do to it.. like painting the door red. So this week has brought more stress. Tuesday Mr. Goatee and I went and got pre-approved for a mortgage, on Wednesday we went and looked at the house again, and made an offer.

Mr. Goatee was ok at first, but got really nervous. I guess I try just not to think about how much money it is and just think about the possibilities of what we can do with the place. And within an hour of our offer, we got a counteroffer from the sellers, for not much more than what we had offered and it included the appliances! But Mr. Goatee didn't want to move too quickly...

And so more stress came yesterday. I don't know if it was just the fact that I only slept for two hours on wednesday night (could'nt go to sleep because I couldnt' stop thinking about that house!) or the fact that I was a nervous wreck. I felt like banging my head on my desk or curling up in a little ball. I wanted to make a counteroffer asap, and Mr. Goatee wanted to wait. I wanted to make him happy, but at the same time I struggled to overcome my obsessive-compulsive personality and my idealistic dreams. It was one of the hardest afternoons I've had at work yet, because I got almost nothing done. It was so hard to concentrate.

And then, a counteroffer was made last night. And today, we got an answer: Yes. It's not quite the two-story white saltbox style house with a white picket fence that I always imagined in my dreams, but it's a classic american-style, shingle-sided grey house with black shutters and a little porch.... and a little window flower box next to the front door.

I can imagine coming home to this house everyday... I can imagine walking Lilly around the neighborhood and having cookouts on the back porch during the summertime, of having dinner parties in the dining room and possibly even having a nursery in one of the bedrooms... far, far, far away from now. But it's a start.

It's a start, for Mr. Goatee and me, and I'm so excited about it!