An American Girl

Wake up and smell the coffee

When I first woke up this morning, lying in bed before the alarm sounded, I could swear I smelled coffee. A wonderfully inviting and motivating smell. Thing is, though, I knew it was impossible. A figment of my imagination. An olfactory hallucination. Unless the cats had learned to scoop coffee grounds and boil hot water, it was pure fancy. But wouldn't that be a cute children's story - kitties wanting to help out, doing things around the house when everyone is gone or asleep. Good intentions with hilarious mishaps.

Then I remembered that I had done a little prep myself last night. I filled the kettle with water and put the coffee grounds into the French Press coffee pot before I went to bed to save myself time in the morning. Is it possible that the smell of the grounds was strong enough to fill the house with the scent of a freshly made pot and reach my little nose all the way in the bedroom? An unexpected but oh so pleasant byproduct of thinking ahead.

I'll never be able to anticipate everything in planning our move to Vienna, but I am thinking today about how important it is to do the best I can to look ahead, prepare in advance, pay attention and do the little and big things that might help pave the way. Who knows what good happenings, what surprises and little bits of pleasure doing so might create. To enjoy the smell of the coffee before it is even made is a lovely thing.

3 com

Almost ready To Do

Slept in a little bit this morning (for me). I faced no alarm clock, no nagging internal voice; I woke up naturally, at just the right time. I am now rejuvenated and it is a gorgeous morning, literally and figuratively.

This is a bit of a work weekend. My library has its annual reading festival this weekend. Yesterday, the libraries (there are 25 of them) had all kinds of events and as one the three organizers of the Big Event, I drove around with my two colleagues to enjoy some of the festivities the individual libraries presented. In addition to being colleagues, we're also dear friends, so it was a treat to be able to spend the entire afternoon together, work or not. It's a little sad to think that this will be the last year we work on this huge project together. It is what brought us together as friends three years ago and while it is certainly hard work, we look forward to it each year, as it means being able to spend more time together while planning. Alas, today - our big author event (Dave Eggers. Awesome! And a huge deal for us!) - will be our last big hurrah. And it should be great, so we'll end on a high note. Or I'll end on a high note. Most people at work don't know this will be my last year. But I know. And my two friends know, so there is a slightly bittersweet taste to the day.

It feels like one of those big markers. You know...last time I'll ever do this. Last time I'll ever do that. Who knows, maybe one day I'll work in a library in Vienna and organize a reading festival, but I'm thinking that the odds of that are rather slim! And, honestly, I'm not sure I would want to do that, even if I could. I think it might be time to do something new and different. Not that I won't capitalize on my library skills and education if it'll get me a job in Vienna, but any library work I can foresee will be more corporate, research-based and less public library work.

And, ack, here comes the nagging voice....what about work, Carrie? Have you looked into it recently? What ARE you going to do? How ARE you going to make a living, legally? Is it even possible? It is one of the many items on a very long To Do list for Vienna. I started the list last weekend. And now I have a nice list. But I have to start doing things. My husband and I set ourselves a timeline for one of the projects - selling our furniture on Craigslist so that we can downsize apartments. Step One. We were going to have everything posted by the end of the week. Last week. And somehow, here we are, Sunday, the beginning of a new week, and we still haven't done it. What are we thinking?

I have/we have GOT TO get our game on if this is really going to happen. I swear. This week. That big To Do list. Game on. (It's got to be.)

0 com

Who me...trouble?

This is Little Sister. Sister is one of our two cats and she's been a bit of a troublemaker lately. Beginning a couple weeks before our trip to Europe, she started peeing outside her litter box. On the couch. On our bed. In the plant. It happened just a few times, it wasn't a regular thing. It didn't seem like she couldn't help herself, like there was a physical reason she was doing this, so we figured she was trying to tell us something, but we couldn't figure out what that something was. She needed more love? We gave her more love. Maybe she's decided that after 8 years of sharing with her brother, Bear, she wants her own space? We got a second litter box. Things got better and she seemed just fine in the days before we left.

While we were gone - nothing. For two weeks. Our friends stopped by twice a day to feed the cats and give them a little petting and love and there was never anything amiss.

Neither kitty gave us too much of the cold shoulder upon our return. We got back, things went right back to normal. The pre-peeing normal. At first. And then it began. In the kitchen. On the couch. In the kitchen. On the bed. On my husband in the bed. In the kitchen. On me on the bed. On our favorite armchair. In all other respects, she was acting normally, her disposition hadn't changed. We were giving her a bit of extra time and love, assuming she wanted or needed more attention. But it didn't stop.

Forgetting for a moment the fact that she had done this well before we went on vacation, we assumed she was telling us she was peeved about our leaving. That made sense. But it went on for more than a week. I woke up every morning, afraid of what I'd find. I had a bottle of special cleaner at the ready. It seemed to be related to when she wanted to eat. If I didn't get up fast enough and feed her, well, she let me know how she felt about it. One time she didn't even let me get out of bed, just started to tell me how she was feeling in this new special way of hers while I was still lying there!

We took her to the vet last week. She is as healthy as she can be. No infections, perfect little bladder. There is absolutely nothing physically wrong with her. Brought her home from the vet and -poof- just like that, it stopped. We brought her in on a Tuesday. Starting Wednesday, everything was magically back to normal - hurrah! Maybe she just needed the extra attention. Maybe we scared it out of her by taking her to the vet. Who knows why, but we were once again a happy, pee-free family.

The honeymoon was short-lived. It has started again! After a week in the pee-free zone, she's done it again. Just once that I can tell (and, really, you can't hide cat pee anywhere), yesterday. On the favorite armchair again. AAARGH!

What is she trying to tell us? Does anyone out there speak kitty? I could use a translator. Ah, I need the Kitty Whisperer, that's what I need.

P.S. I just had an image of my husband and I trying to piece together enough German to explain the situation to a vet in Vienna, should we ever have to. It's a funny visual - single words, hand gestures. We may have to resort to drawing pictures if our vocabulary isn't up to the task. Should be fun.

2 com

Am I my stuff?

Minor freak out yesterday morning. I'm all dressed for work and looking for my brown purse. I can't find it. It's the only brown purse I own and my outfit definitely called for it. I don't use the purse often, since I don't wear earth tones very often, but since it does happen occasionally, I own one fabulous slouchy, brown leather purse. Or, at least, I thought I did.

As I was rummaging through my bedroom closet, the coat closet, the back office closet and time was running out before I HAD TO leave the house, I kept saying to myself, "I can't believe I would have gotten rid of it. I just can't believe I'd do that." But it wasn't there.

A few months ago, I made a first pass at weeding my wardrobe to prep for an eventual move to Vienna. Who wants to cart boxes and boxes of clothes and stuff across the ocean!? I went through my closet, drawers, shelves - clothes, shoes, handbags....everything. I was feeling pretty focused and intent on making a dent; I followed the Use Rule (how often do you wear/use it) and I was pretty ruthless. And I made some pretty good decisions - since the Big Clean, I haven't reached into the closet to find something, only to realize it is no longer a part of my life. Until yesterday.

Strictly following the Use Rule, the purse wouldn't have made the cut, so I can see myself putting it in the To Go pile. But it is the ONLY brown purse I own. As much as I hate to admit it, I am a matchy-matchy girl. My shoes and purse must match my outfit or I feel off all day. I just couldn't imagine that I'd have let the drive for minimalism trump the need to have one brown purse for those non-black-wearing days, few as they may be.

Lo and behold, just in the nick of Gotta-Get-Outta-Here time, I found it. On the closet floor, underneath shoe boxes and various other items. Of course I didn't get rid of it. A sigh of relief and a huge smile. I felt such joy!

And then I felt a little silly, feeling such happiness about a purse. I spent the day pondering the idea of the things we own, the things we each choose to put an emphasis on, and how we use them to define ourselves - to ourself and to others. In light of moving and wanting to pare down to basics, what it would mean to not have some of these things? Would I feel like myself in Vienna if I got there and didn't have all my *stuff*? I'm not a very sentimental person. I don't hold on to objects, trinkets, or knick-knacks much. A few family items, but mostly books and clothes. That's me, that's my stuff.

A friend recently asked me and my husband what we were planning to take with us to Vienna. "Just a few suitcases?" he asked. My husband nodded, yes. I shook my head, vehemently, No! I probably also had a look of utter disbelief and horror on my face - a couple suitcases!?

I do have every desire to pare down to the basics and I understand the need to do so in planning an international move, but the basics for me is a totally different thing than the basics for my husband. The question is...is it actually necessary to own three pair of black pants? Really? I keep telling myself - no, it's not, you can do better, get by with less (and there is a sense of accomplishment and pride in being minimalist, I do feel it), but, while they may all be black, these pants are all different styles, they create different looks and reflect different moods.

Since the time I could put my own outfits together, I've felt that the way I dress is my personal means of artistic, creative expression (Much to my mother's chagrin at times. But in my defense, I came of age in the 1980s - think Madonna, Flashdance, big hair, jelly bracelets - what was a girl to do?). I have grown into my own style since those high school, testing-the-self-expression-waters days. Sometimes classic, sometimes quirky, always a little different and always very Me (whatever that really means). To be Me, I need these three pair of black pants and a brown purse that I only use once every few months.

It's not a matter of being owned by my stuff, being a slave to consumerism and trends. Most of what I own, I've had for years. I do shop, but I only buy what I really need and want now and I keep and wear things for a long time. My wardrobe is my history, my story, in a way. To trim it to what would fit in a couple suitcases would be like cutting off an arm. Oh the drama! But it's true! Am I crazy? Am I my stuff? Or is my stuff a part of me?

2 com

Coffee and blog

I'm rubbing the sleep from my eyes and drinking a cup of hot, strong, American drip coffee. I don't usually run right to my computer upon awakening, although I will admit that I sometimes have to force myself not to (dang email and Facebook addiction). This morning, though, I feel an overwhelming desire to sit and write a bit. It is Sunday and it is a holiday weekend, which means I was off yesterday, I'm off today, and I have all day tomorrow to myself as well. All is leisurely. I don't have to rush to the gym or rush to work or rush to....well, anywhere. And, so, I find myself here.

My husband and I have been back from Vienna for a little more than two weeks now and I realize that despite several posts and the confirmation that the move is still on, I haven't been terribly talkative, even here, about the trip, about my impressions, about my fears and excitements. For those of you who know me and/or have been reading since the earliest posts, you'll know that one of my goals in creating this blog is to get myself to share more. Talking about myself is not something I do much, even with family and close friends. And, so, it can sometimes seem as though I don't put much thought into things and that I go from idea to decision - poof - just like that. Is she sure? Does she really know what she's getting into? Has she really thought about it?

I was just about to say (slightly defensively) - of course I do! I think long and hard about all that I do, I've spent hours pondering the emotional, physical, mental aspects of such a move, my reactions to Vienna, my experience there, how I feel about it all. Truth is, though, I haven't. Not in such a concerted - I-have-to-sit-down-and-figure-this-out-and-make-sure-I've-considered-everything kind of way. That's just not me. Which isn't to say that I don't think about things at all, that I'm naively moving forward with a half-hatched plan and that I'll find myself in Vienna this time next year, thinking, "this was stupid, I should have thought more about xx, yy, and zz before I just picked up and moved."

What I am saying is that I'm just not the soul-searching type in general ~ and I'm only recently coming to accept that of myself and be okay with it. This doesn't mean that I don't have moments of deep thought and personal reflection and insight but it often seems that I don't have as many of those moments as others do or as I maybe "should" have, especially when considering something as seemingly huge as picking up and moving to Vienna.

Truth is, I just don't think of it as such a huge deal. It's another chapter in my life. I've picked up and moved before. I've started over. And, yes, I've considered that moving within my home country isn't the same as moving to Europe for all sorts of different reasons. But, I've been reading so many expat and traveler's blogs and these and our visit to England and Vienna really did reinforce my thought that this truly is a small world and one that I want to explore. And while a little hard and scary, it's not that hard and scary.

When it comes to thinking about the move, my mind goes almost immediately to the practical and pragmatic (jobs, visas, residence permits and such), not the emotional or psychological aspects of moving. This isn't because I don't expect there to be any and it's not a diversionary tactic. I've tried thinking hard about what kind of impact this will have on my relationships with family and friends, with my husband, with myself, but my mind won't stay there. I get antsy and anxious when I try to concentrate on these aspects of the move because, well, how can I know beforehand? I can assume that communication will be as easy from there as it is from here. I can assume that this will be a period of great exploration and expansion and growth for me as an individual and for me and my husband as a couple. But who knows???

What I do know, however, be it a deep insight or shallow justification, is that for me, the whole concept of not knowing, but taking the leap and going anyway...this is the whole point.

Photo by JimileeK

2 com

#1 City, #1 Thought

Vienna Tops World's Best Cities Survey

It would almost be silly of me to NOT post this story with an accompanying..."see, THIS is why we want to move to Vienna!!!" wouldn't it. But, really, what I love about it something a little different. What I love is that a friend posted this link on my Facebook page before I even saw it this morning. A friend that I don't even see or speak with that often. Which means that there are people out there, people outside my family and that first circle of friends, that see "Vienna" and think "Caroline." And THAT makes me smile.

1 com

Translate This

I love Google Chrome.

I haven't always loved Google Chrome. I've been a devoted Firefox user for years and I will admit to using Internet Explorer, but only on the job because many of my work-related reports don't function properly in Firefox.

I've never imagined myself professing my love for a browser. Or a technology. Or anything computer-related, really. It's always there and it helps me get through my day, but my emotions don't get particularly piqued by technologies or gizmos or gadgets (well, except maybe my iPhone).

Until now. Google Chrome. I'm not a huge fan of the homepage layout with my most visited sites, although it has grown on me. It runs a little slow sometimes and there are quirks here and there because I've been using a beta and then a developer's version. So, why put up with this? Why the love? For one very simple reason. When I pull up a webpage in another language, I get a prompt at the top, "This page is in (language). Would you like to translate?"

How cool is that! Not only does that mean that I can visit blogs written in other languages for my reading pleasure, it also has super practical benefits. For example, a few weeks ago we were trying to research gyms in Vienna prior to our visit. Aha, here's a page for Top Gym. Shucks, I can't read it. Look to the top of the screen and there it is "This page is in German. Do you want to translate?" Uh, yes please! Presto, chango, in the blink of an eye. Comprehension.

I will admit that the translation is a bit off here and there, but it's good enough to follow. It is no substitute for learning German, I do realize that and, no, no, no, that is not the intention, I swear (can I say that any more emphatically?) but I have a feeling this nifty little bit of technology is going to make more than a little bit of difference in the upcoming months of planning.

8 com

The Turning Point

Yup, she did it again! For those who have been reading An American Girl for a bit, you'll know that this is the second layout change I've made since the blog's creation. And for those of you who have recently found me, there's my admission ~ this is the second layout change I've made since the blog's creation!

WHY, you ask? Or, maybe you don't really care, but I'm going to explain anyway. It'll make me feel better.

As interesting and colorful as the most recent layout was, it was, quite frankly, a bit too frou-frou for me (frou-frou being one of my husband's favorite descriptive terms. I like it). From the moment I switched to it, I longed to go back to a clean, white, minimalist look, something a little more mature, professional. But, I feared being too much the flake so I thought I'd sit with it.

Today, though, I find myself at a turning point. The turning point being the moment at which I moved from "...hmmmm my hubby and I think we'd like to move to Vienna and we'll see what happens," to "Alright folks, we're moving to Vienna!" It's time to get serious and kick this game into high gear!

Which seemed the perfect time to go back to a more suitable look.

What you see today is just the beginning of a new format and new approach. There will be much to come, starting with a new title design and header (I need husband's help with that, though, so it's not ready today), pages devoted to major topics, a countdown to the move, once it's scheduled. Who knows what else I'll come up with.

As the decision to move is now official, I am officially declaring myself a serious blogger. Not only is An American Girl a fascinating a fun way to chronicle the experience, but it is also a serious endeavor to expand my network, make even more connections, ask questions, gain insights and practical information. And, lest I forget, part of this venture is to practice writing and shift my focus to that creative (and perhaps someday financially-lucrative) endeavor.

Until today, it was mostly fun. Somewhat serious, but mostly fun.
Now, it is totally serious. And totally fun!

An American Girl

Wake up and smell the coffee

Almost ready To Do

Who me...trouble?

Am I my stuff?

Coffee and blog

#1 City, #1 Thought

Translate This

The Turning Point

Blogs I Like

Places I've Been