The Mothballs Come Out

Alright, folks.

This is the end.

I'm still feeling pretty woeful over having to bring this blog to a close.

It's hard to distinguish where the all of the sadness over leaving Cayman ends and individual sadnesses begin.

Of course, we'll miss the beach and the weather and how vibrant everything is... especially on days like today when it's 12 degrees outside.



It's easy to disregard everything that made it difficult and unsustainable when you're a few thousand miles away....and cold.

But it was good. We did it and it was nice and now we're getting everything in order to start planning whatever the next step will be. Relocation? Tattoos? Kids? Tattooed Kids?

I guess we'll jump off of that bridge when we come to it. That's how the saying goes, right?

Anyway, thanks again for reading.

I'm keeping this site open for the occasional walks down memory lane. Feel free to check back to reference mango varietals or how much an idiot Frankie Muniz is or whatever made you smile.

Here's a little slide show of some of the thousands of pictures we took down there. It's pretty slapdash, but it still choked me up as I previewed it.



Make sure to check out (and bookmark, and subscribe to) the new blog when time permits:

randomshizza.blogspot.com

There'll be some music and some ranting and plenty of mildly entertaining stuff.

Until then.... Ta.

Getting Settled... again.

We've arrived safe and sound, and are trying to get moved back into our house.

There was a peace lily waiting for us on the porch, sent by our incredible friends Marc e Kirstin de Schweitz.

Things had been going well enough until we got bombarded with snow last night.... I checked weather.com and Cayman is just a little warmer than we are right now.... just a little.

Anyway, I'll post shortly with information on the new blog and pics of our progress...

Thanks for reading.

Z

...and the Lord taketh away.

Hello All. All 6 of you.

First, I apologize for taking such a long break from updating you on all of the ridiculousness we get up to around here.

There has been a deluge of rottenness that washed away any desire I had to actually write anything down, and we're just now coming up for air.

About ten days ago, Kristi's clinic announced that it will be leased out to a new management group at the end of the month.

This management group decided that there was no room in the new clinic for Kristi, so she was informed she'd be losing her work permit.

Without a work permit, she can't stay on the island.

If you are reading this while standing, I strongly urge you to find a comfy, supportive place to sit before scrolling down any further.

I am about to release a bit of information that might come as such a shock to you, that you tumble to the floor in a formless heap.

Sitting? Okay, here goes: I'm not positive that I could keep us afloat with my "Document Filer" job.

I wouldn't trust the horrible temp agency that holds my work permit with making me a sandwich, let alone ensuring my ability to thrive in a foreign country.



SO, after much deliberation and soul-searching, we've come to the sad conclusion that we cannot stay in Cayman.

There's a lot more that went into the decision, but the stuff I already mentioned is boring enough.

We're very sad, but we don't really have any other option. Getting a job here is a nightmare, and we don't feel like struggling through another few months would give any earth-shattering experiences that would make it worth the added stress.

So, we sold the car, notified the marvelous landlords, and gave almost all of our stuff to the Humane Society Thrift Store.

I also quit the Document Filer job, and the Temp Agency called me "a disgrace to all Americans," a "failure," and told me that I was hired "even though your resume was completely insufficient for consideration by our agency."

Riiiiiight.

This is the same agency, by the way, that got me jobs driving around the island making sure phone books were delivered, sitting in cold rooms watching Med Students take tests, and sitting in an empty office licking envelopes.

And filing documents.

I guess that's more than a bilingual, CPR-certified, Eagle Scout with a degree in Communication Studies and 5 years experience at a Fortune 500 company could ever hope for.

I'm just happy they gave me a chance.

Maybe if I had finished my MBA they could have gotten me a job on the Trash Truck.

I'm sure they had a position lined up for me watching paint dry or standing in a field or something equally rewarding. What a shame that I'll miss out.

Anyway, enough about those wretched, soulless garbage-mongers.

Okay, one more... I'll just say that Hell waits for them with open arms.




We'll be leaving this Thursday and heading back to Kansas City to regroup and decide what the next adventure will be.

I'll be moth-balling the blog, unless the Kansas City Winter Mango crop is better than I'm expecting....

Check back for final thoughts and more photos of our time here.

Until then, thanks for checking in, and we'll look forward to hearing from you soon.

Ta.

"Livid." File under "L."

Geez, guys... I'm sorry to have kept you waiting so long for the far-too-regular dose of nonsense.

There's been little to report these days.... with the help of a constant barrage of ridiculousness and inconvenience from all directions, the sadness of the holidays has morphed into an almost indescribable anger.



There have been several false starts into 2008's inaugural blog, all of which quickly degenerated into lists of people who's faces I'd like to smash.

Until I'm more clear on how "Threats Against Physical Well Being" are handled in the Caymanian Judicial System, I'll keep them to myself.

And wait.



I'm posting these flower pics that I took to take the "deranged" edge off of this post. Working?



Okay, Christmas = Sad, Zach's angry again... what else?

New Years was lovely. Kristi and I took a bottle of Prosecco and a gorgeous little Cohiba down to 7 Mile Beach and watched all of the Fireworks displays that the resorts host.

It was like ten 4th of July's going on all at once, and was a perfect end and beginning.



The Cubans that live behind us celebrated by blaring salsa music until 6 am. I checked MSN.com to see if Castro had finally died. It turns out they just really love to party.

They say Communism stifles the Human Spirit. I personally witnessed a love of fireworks that not even waiting in line for 6 hours for rice can kill.

I could barely hear the music because they were lighting chain after endless chain of Firecrackers until sirens came blaring around the same time.

I heard later that this wasn't the cops shutting them down, but an ambulance responding to a "Drunk Cuban Blew Two of His Fingers Off" call. I think that's like 419 or something.



In other news, the Agency to whom my servitude is indentured truly, truly excels in two areas:

1-NOT finding me a job.

and

2-Finding me horrible jobs.

They earned another Gold Star in the second category today, assigning me to an Offshore Management Company.

I was initially excited at the prospect of FINALLY getting some Offshore experience to pad my wilting resume, but then I remembered that the Agency's Code of Conduct expressly forbids them from finding me anything decent.

I arrived at 8:30 to be trained on my new, 2-week assignment.

Document Filer.



BA in Comm Studies? Not necessary.

5 years Broad-based Corporate Finance Experience? No thanks.

Conversational Spanish? For what?

My knowledge of the Alphabet is the only part of my resume from which I'll need to draw for the ten days.

Oh yeah, I forgot to add it : Eagle Scout. Let's see if I remember how to tie a noose.



Ta.