(The royal we, anyway.) Yes, after a total of seven days in St. Paul, I have returned to SE for the ever-anticipated sequel, "Move In Part Two: Don't Forget the Pots and Pans". In addition to all of our cooking implements, I'm here to fetch a ready-to-assemble-with-only-a-screwdriver-and-brute-strength desk, work shoes and a rack on which to place them, the boxed set of
Alias Season Three, any number of home beautifying items, homemade salsa and store-bought spaghetti sauce, and several other odds and ends that I have written down somewhere but will likely forget anyway. The absentmindedness is not wholly due to my natural lack of organization; it's been quite a busy week, and I'm feeling just a wee bit frazzled and hyperactive. What's been going on, you ask? Well, let's see...
We moved into our new house last Saturday in the pouring rain. When we departed from SE caravan-style, the day was summary and hot; Ali was driving Ian's old car, a '96 Achieva devoid of air conditioning, and she was less than thrilled. As we continued down the road, however, the sky turned dark and ominous. Because of the relative turtle-like speed of the enormous U-haul Pat was driving, our chosen route was a bit roundabout. 'Twas a good thing, too - as it turns out, we managed to drive around the bulk of the hail-and-thunder storm that descended on the Metro area. All the rain couldn't be avoided, however, and soon our little line of cars was weaving through city traffic with windshield wipers going full force. Poor Michal hadn't really figured how to operate the wipers in her Prius, and was therefore reduced to turning them on manually every two seconds or so.
We made it to the house without incident - no getting lost, no breaking dishes, no losing boxes out of the back of the U-haul (my greatest fear). Knowing that the storm would take quite a while to move along, we went ahead and unloaded everything despite the downpour, piling boxes and suitcases and furniture on top of old comforters protecting the hardwood floor.
The house itself is way nicer than anything I have a right to own. It's a small brick and stucco structure with a finished basement and a two-room second floor. Casey and Julia, the former owners (Julia graduated from SEHS three years before I did), spent the last three years fixing up everything in the place. The walls have been repainted, the floors have been refinished, the fireplace has been refitted with a gas insert. Ali and I are unable to outfit our house in the garage-sale manner that we had anticipated; our furnishings need to feel at least only slightly uncomfortable around the high-quality window treatments that C and J left.
The establishment is set up thusly: when you walk in the front door (no doorbell; you'll have to knock), you're in a large room with light oak floors and walls that look beige in shadow and gold in sunlight, which runs the width of the house. The dining table is set up directly in front of you, and the chaise lounge (a family heirloom stolen from Michal's bedroom), couch, and rocking chairs (pilfered from Pat's office) form a living room facing the fireplace to your left. Two doorways present themselves, one at the right of the room and one in the center. The right-hand doorway leads to the kitchen, which is all white tile and beige countertop and brick red floral accents. It's a small cooking space - definitely a kitchen for one, with a breakfast nook for two. If you glance out the back door there, you'll see our little fenced-in yard, complete with round picnic table and fire pit, and our miniscule two-car garage. You'll want to be careful pulling in; the side of the van has scraped against the wall already. The stairwell to the left of the backdoor leads down to the basement, which is carpeted with nubby oatmeal shag. The laundry room and utility rooms are down here, as is a well-lit bathroom bathed in bright yellow paint. Our tiny TV is here, too, along with various and sundry random pieces of furniture we've scrounged. We haven't spent much time down here yet - no cable yet, you see. Internet access is nonexistent in our house, and will remain so until Saturday. This, as you might imagine, is less than peachy. Ali and I found a temporary remedy:
Panera. Panera is a delightful chain "bakery-cafe" that serves soups, salads, sandwiches, and pastries. More importantly, it serves free wireless internet to all its customers. We've been snatching hours of free internet when we can, but, needless to say, I'm looking forward *very exceedingly much* to setting up our wireless network at home.
Back upstairs? Let's go through that center doorway in the living room. On your left is an empty purple bedroom, complete with jewel-tone rug and walk-in closet. We're supposed to have a roommate, but haven't really found one yet; anyone looking to live in a purple bedroom? Straight ahead is the linen closet and the second bathroom - green and white, with slightly poorer lighting but slightly more character. On your right, you'll find the stairs leading to the second floor, where you'll find Ali's light yellow bedroom (it used to be the baby's room), my medium beige room (it used to be the master bedroom), and a delightful cedar closet that could possibly be used as a sauna, if we had the inclination, a few tools, and loads of piping-hot stones.
So there's the twenty-cent tour. Come and visit us - it makes more sense in person!
Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday were spent fortifying the economies of Minneapolis and St. Paul. We bonded several times over with IKEA, the Mall of America, Circuit City, Office Max, and three different Targets. We drove to St. Kate's to figure the route. We drove to St. Thomas to figure out where to park. I met with my advisor and got my class schedule straightened out. You see, one of my courses had been dropped due to low enrollment, and I wasn't able to get into the other required courses offered due to a program restriction of some sort. I went into the office to get a special enrollment form to bypass this restriction and signed up for EDLD 801x: Leadership and Organizational Theory. Why was the program restricted, you wonder? Oh, my friends, that is a very intelligent question, one that I did not ask until after all the paperwork was completed.
The Ed School offers a variety of degrees, some of which require versions of the same classes. My program, the M.A. in Policy and Leadership, requires EDLD 801, while 801x is intended for students pursuing their M.A. in Police Leadership, Administration, and Education. Sooo... starting in November, I will be going to the St. Paul Police Station for four hours every Wednesday night, where I will take my Leadership class with a cohort of police students. "I normally have my students wear their badges," the coordinator told me as she signed off on my paperwork, "but you don't have a badge. I guess you'll probably just have to show your St. Thomas ID and driver's license, and you'll probably be escorted to your classroom." Fabi thinks I should get a badge. Frankly, I agree.
On Wednesday, Michal headed back to SE, Ali went to her first day of class, and I drove in commuter traffic to a job interview with a public-school-affiliated child care organization that serves kids from kindergarten through sixth grade (hereafter known as K-6). I parked in a Rainbow Foods parking lot since I couldn't find a spot on the street, dashed to the basement door in the rain, and took the elevator to the fifth floor. I didn't know it, but I would be in the building for over three hours.
The interview itself was with program assistant D and her superior R. They went over my resume ("From Sleepy Eye to Harvard?"), asked me about different work-related scenarios ("Two children want to play with the blue car and one hits the other with it. What do you do?"), and asked about my schedule. When they found out that my evening classes cut into the hours of their program, R suggested I apply to temp with K-6 and work days with a Head-Start-like program that takes care of infants, toddlers, and preschoolers while their teen mothers attend high school (hereafter known as ITP), and just like that we were off downstairs to tour their site. The whole time, mind you, I was terrified that my car was going to be towed from Rainbow. At the end of the tour, R called up program assistant S, who is in charge of ITP, and put me on the phone. "Why don't you go over to the Minneapolis Public Schools headquarters and fill out the paperwork there? Then you can come in tomorrow morning at 8.15 and we'll talk more at length." Fortunately, I had a map.
I drove through downtown Minneapolis to get to the MPS building. After filling out tax forms and background check information, I handed the stack of papers to the woman behind the desk. "Okay, now I'll take your fingerprints. We do the right hand first." That is how I found myself covered in ink on the day of my first Minnesota job interview.
I returned to ITP bright and early the next morning, commuting oh so joyfully in more rush hour traffic... and proceeded to work a five-hour day. And on Friday, I went back for more: five hours at ITP, followed by four hours of temping at K-6. I appear, then, to be employed. But how I am to be trained or paid has yet to be determined. Huh.
So that was my week. A weekend spent doing essentially nothing was most necessary, I feel, and that's exactly what I have been doing. Now it's off to fill out online loan documents and pack up the car for the return trip. Mustn't forget my school supplies - I become a grad student on Monday!
