Wirefly: Buying a Cell Phone Online

One of the things about living in the boonies (two hours from the nearest stoplight) is you tend to be more dependent on technology to stay in touch with the rest of the world. I'd lose my mind if I didn't have a telephone, Netflix, and DSL! That being said, my latest experiment in technology has been a bit bumpy.

I signed up for a cell phone contract online via a service called Wirefly. You get a free phone, which they FedEx to you supposedly in a matter of days. I was a little skeptical when I found myself talking to an agent who called himself "Alan" when his real name was obviously Kumar or Sayed or Mosen or something Middle Eastern. I did finally receive my phone today after waiting seven days. But surprise, surprise!--my new phone number has a Louisiana area code! I called Alltel hoping to rectify the problem, but the customer service person I spoke to informed me that Wirefly would have to change the number or else I would be charged $150! After several tries online (no chat person available), I finally reached a Wirefly representative ("Mike") who said the number would be changed to a Colorado 970 number within two days. My new phone is charging up; so we'll see if this scheme works.

I had hoped to use this service to get phone service in Mancos immediately as well as get a phone for free. Theoretically, it should have worked. Hopefully the wrong number is the last of the impediments to my new cell phone service!

"The Trip of a Lifetime"

After over ten years of talking about it, we are finally taking a trip to Europe! The fact that Jim has a real job with benefits served as an impetus for him to book our passage back on the Queen Mary. Now we're working backwards, looking for hostels online so we'll have lodging in Frankfurt, Strasbourg, Paris, and London. Searching the Internet for places to stay is a trip in itself; we'll find some cool-sounding place only to read dismal reviews about how the showers don't have hot water or the rooms have nasty odors or the hostel is attached to a noisy bar. Pictured here is Notre Dame, which I hope to see during our short stay in Paris.

Downsizing: The Draconian Approach

Moving into a still smaller house again raises the eternal question: Why do I have so much stuff? My Stuff tends to fall into these general categories:

Books
Clothes
Classroom stuff
Furniture
Kitchen items
Papers
Linens
Memorabilia

The first three categories are necessitated by my career as a teacher. For example, I have a wonderfully useful professional library that I constantly enhance with new titles. But I've been attacking the other categories with ruthless weeding. We all have to do this sooner or later, unless we acquire with Howard Hughes rapaciousness and leave a mess for our descendants to clean up (I won't do that to Rachel). At any rate, my weeding project has forced me to realize some things about myself.

My life is very different from what it was. For one thing, other than making a few treats for my students my baking career is pretty much over: I can't handle the carbs. I baked one batch of muffins last Fall, thinking I'd put them in my lunches like I used to do for Rachel. I ended up throwing some away. I don't cook much these days either, except for an occasional batch of soup or stew that I freeze in serving portions like Bema used to do. I still have regular company, which is why I want to always have a spare bedroom. But I 'll never have enough guests to warrant the quantity of dishes I've been hauling around for years. So I got rid of quite a few of those things. Ditto for the extra blankets and towels; someone else can use them.

When we took a load of donations to the thrift store, Jim expressed surprise that I donated an old German cookie tin he had given me some twenty years ago. This is another reason I hang on to things: sentimentality. It's particularly hard with things that remind me of Matthew, since what we have of his is all we'll ever have. Mom said she kept one of Jill's shirts. I've given up a few sentimental things because I know it's silly, but those are certainly more difficult items to part with.

Anyway, downsizing has been a bit stressful, but it's forced me to scrutinize my simpler, middle-aged lifestyle. It's a good thing.

Transitions

My year of taming the Mustangs is over! I've accepted a job at Montezuma Cortez High School. West End offered to renew my contract because I can teach college level composition. Unfortunately, the district needed to get rid of one English teacher due to declining student enrollment for next year, leaving just two of us. I saw the handwriting on the wall: I would have to teach all of the middle school classes. My 8th graders were a real challenge this year; I'll miss them, but I have concluded that my skills and knowledge are better spent on high school age students. I'm tired of spending so much energy on classroom management issues--the reality of teaching middle school students--when what I really want to do is teach content. Of course I have mixed feelings about leaving the district. But Nucla Junior-Senior H.S. won't really be the same school next year because half the staff is leaving anyway. I'll miss my students and friends.

Montezuma Cortez H.S. has around seven hundred students. The community it more diverse than what I'm accustomed to. The high school serves the local Ute Reservation, plus there are substantial numbers of Navajos and Hispanics. Cortez is two hours closer to Albuquerque, so I'll be closer to Jim, who still works at the VA hospital there. Cortez has a lovely setting, with mountains to the south. Even more lovely is the town of Mancos (in between Cortez and Durango), where I'm renting a cozy little house. I'm currently in the throes of confronting my materialism, moving my belongings from Naturita to Mancos. Rachel is flying out next week to help me get settled.

Rachel is also sorting and packing, selling and pitching. She is moving to Sacramento, where she'll attend Sacramento State on a rowing scholarship. We agreed that moving is stressful because it involves making hundreds of decisions large and small--from Where should I live? to Do I really need this old muffin tin? It's a good exercise to shed all this accumulated flotsam. Jim and I took ten boxes and bags to the Methodist Thrift Store in Cortez on Saturday. What a relief it will be when it's all over!