Cadet Camp '94

We finally moved all of our stuff into the new house this past weekend and slept there for the first time. Not able to do any heavy lifting (other than the extra 30 pounds I can never put down), I stood by the U-Haul and told people where to put things. Just standing there made me incredibly tired, but I didn't want to say anything because everyone else was actually working and I technically was not.

Can you imagine? "Oh, guys, can we just take a break for a minute? I'm DYING here," says immobile chick from the sidelines as rest of family carts bulky, awkward items down truck ramp, up stairs and through two doorways...

Tyler, remember that walking stick you carved for me at Cadet camp in middle school? You wrote my name on it in block letters and carved out a place for my hand. When you gave it to me it felt like a peace offering during a time when we didn't like each other very much. You even decorated it with beads and feathers, which I'm sure was a tribute to my youthful obsession with Native American culture (which you've since mocked me for millions of times). Well, I still have it -- it was one of the first things to come out of the truck -- and I leaned gratefully upon it while shouting "living room", "sun room", " basement". So, thanks. I'll never throw that thing away.

We're about 25 boxes of junk away from feeling settled, but the good news is we are HOME.