Worst-written post of all time.

I never realized how often I eat toast until I didn't have a toaster. Like, I know it's 10:30 at night but damn I could go for a cup of coffee and some toast right now. Sigh. In the morning I'm gonna try toasting it on a pan on the stove. 

Or maybe here in a few minutes. 

Me and the little girl are in the Land. It's raining tonight but if it's sunny tomorrow then she says she wants to go swimming. We returned the rental car today but I think I could put her in her stroller and walk to the pool tomorrow. It's kind of a long walk but manageable. According to the map it's 1.5 kilometers, whatever the hell that means. I looked it up, it's almost a mile. okay I can do that. It's just gonna suuuuck on the way back because swimming always makes me tired, plus you have to shower before and after here so that's like extra tiredness piled on top of that. 

I'm halfway unpacked, so that's boring. I mean good. Good job, me. 

I also get my couch tomorrow. Woohoo! It's free and it's reddish leather and old as fuck. But it looks comfy and new couches are expensive, and the only other place we have to sit right now is two chairs that the landlady loaned us and our mattresses. 

I was completely unaware that European mattress sizes are different from American ones, so I'm not even sure that this mattress will fit in my bed frame when it comes. Oh, life, you little jumble of weirdness. 

The ex arrives tomorrow but to make sure that he doesn't have the 'rona we're not going to tell the munchkin that her dad is here until Friday, after he gets both tests and all is well. Then if he's safe she's going to stay with him at his mom's for the weekend. I mean I'll still hang out with them a bit because she got a little sad and said she would miss me, and I would like to buy a toaster and get some errands done so I might go along with them as they do stuff. But then I'm sleeping at my own place and SLEEPING IN. Omgomgomgomg. I'm going to miss her terribly but YAAAAS QUEEEEEEEN. I. Am. Tired. 

Screw it, I made coffee.

So we're in Reykjavík and we got an apartment and it all came together in such a way that it was like, this should feel really creepy but it doesn't. Like, it's really hard to find rental apartments here but I found one in three days. And the owners are adorable and really nice. They both have soulful, kind eyes and they're really gentle and they have a small dog. And they're letting me pay the initial deposit in two payments since I didn't have all the money at the outset. I really needed a place to stay because I really didn't like being downtown, and it might sound weird but I'm pretty sure my former brother-in-law's apartment is haunted (guys, it is, just trust me). And I've been living out of suitcases for like three weeks and it was just too much. 

Actually, my sister-in-law came and looked at this place before I even left the States, but the pictures didn't look that good. I was like, whatever let's just take it, but Aggi hesitated for some reason and said we should just keep looking. So once I got here I did, but it was looking bleak, so many super expensive places that were full on dumps or weirdly arranged or just didn't seem right. So after a few days I was hanging out with my SIL and I suddenly got this *feeling* (and y'all know by now how I get when I get a *feeling*) so I asked her if she still had that lady's number with the apartment and would she call her to see if it was still available? I just thought, maybe if I see it in person it won't be so bad. So she called, and wouldn't you know it, the lady said that there had been a couple who wanted her to hold it for them and they were supposed to let her know that very day, but they never called so as far as she was concerned it was still available. (*ding!*) So then she asked if I could come take a look at it myself, and she told her yes, and she had liked the idea of having a mother and daughter there in that place (*ding again!*) and I could come by the next day. 

I had been praying for an apartment in a good location, where I could easily walk plenty of places and didn't need to have a car, with a really kindly landlady who was old enough to be my mom with a grandmotherly vibe who would really enjoy having Álfrún and me living there and would look out for us a bit, with plenty of light and windows and a bathtub plus shower and a private yard where the little girl could play and I could hang out. And where maybe they would be okay with Pixie coming to live here later this year. 

The major obstacle was getting all the money for the huge deposits they demand here. It's like first and last month's rent plus one extra month. It's nuts. There are places that will loan you the money, but I don't have any credit history in this country and with the pandemic plus summer vacation (outside America most people get paid time off in summer) I wasn't having any luck.

So before I went to go meet her, I literally went outside and stood in front of my mother-in-law's lilac tree (and by in front of it I mean more like in it) and said a prayer. I just said if this is my apartment, let me get it today, and let this woman feel my heart and see that I'm a good person and that she can trust me to get her the deposit, and that Álfrún and I just need a safe place to live and that we'll be good tenants. And if not, then let its equivalent or better come along instead.

So now I'm in the apartment. Hey, when you know, you know.

And this way it's better because if I had just taken it back when I was in the States and I thought it looked like a dump, I would have had bad vibes coming in here and it would have been a totally different experience. This way I was so thankful to get it, and I realized that it was the closest thing to a perfect match that I was going to get, and I appreciate the people being so nice to us and everything. They gave us two chairs to use and little things like cleaning supplies and a little table, and they gave Álfrún a pink step stool and a box of sidewalk chalk! And they have five grandkids, two of whom are just her age, and we love their dog, she's super sweet. 

It all lined up perfectly. 

But I'm not super familiar with this particular neighborhood. And I don't know how to get a bus pass anymore, now that the place where you used to go to get one got turned into like, a little food court thing. So I still have to figure that out. Maybe they just use an app now or something? I need a Reykjavík sherpa. I mean, I'll carry my own bags and all, but I don't know where anything is around here anymore. I just know that downtown feels a hell of a lot more sinister than it did ten years ago, and that everything else is really close by. Like, in Austin I used to drive 40 minutes to get Álfrún to her preschool, and when I got a job that was only 30 minutes away from my apartment, I felt super lucky. Here, like, even Ikea is only 15 minutes away. Isn't there some law of the universe that Ikea is always supposed to be at least 45 minutes from everything, looming out of nowhere like a Sweden-colored mirage? 

Tonight it's feeling kind of like Portland. I have a black and white ancient bathtub and no dishwasher again. It's raining out. I listened to music while I was doing the dishes for the 80th time today (remind me to get rubber gloves, my hands are drying out like... something really dry that's not a cliché, think of something yourself, I'm too tired). I realized that the kitchen window where I set my phone so it wouldn't get wet is now the furthest away point from where the little girl sleeps, and when I was done with the dishes I leaned on the windowsill to finish listening to the song. Like I used to do in the bathroom in Portland so she wouldn't wake up.

I got a good deal on a coffee table. It's antique and carved solid wood, it was super heavy. The gal who sold it to me turned out to be one of the doctors at the place where I got my second Covid test done. She drove over to my MIL's house with her dad, and they had the table in this trailer with a net over it. She was nice but kind of reserved, but her dad was really cool. He had one of those old guy caps on and a white beard and round glasses, and a faded t-shirt with what looked like Kris Kristofferson or maybe one of the Doobie Brothers on it, and sandals with bare feet. And a strong accent like he was from the countryside. We were chatting with them for a bit and we told them I had just moved "home" from America and didn't have any furniture, and he smiled then as he eyed at my "Texas Forever" sweatshirt and my bare-ass feet with my chipped-ass toenail polish, probably the same way I was eyeing his t-shirt and we kind of nodded at each other approvingly. Far out, man. 

A few things are freaking me out in a pretty okay way.

Number one, a shit-ton of my journeys, dreams, and channeled messages are coming to fruition in a weird way. Genders of babies, the world being in crisis, moving here, the whole lilac thing is truly bizarre, and then like... When I channeled that message from my great-grandmother telling me that I would be moving back here in June (technically I did leave Austin in June but I got here in July), there was stuff she showed me and things she said... One of them was that the government would make it easier for people to own a home, after an outcry about how difficult it is to get housing, so that I didn't need to worry about that because one day I would buy a house very easily. Then just the other day my mother-in-law told me that the Icelandic government is just now starting to write a law making it easier for people to get mortgages to buy a home. Like, what?! I had no way of knowing that would happen, in fact I wasn't sure I believed my great-grandmother when she told me. (Bearing in mind that the fact that she died when I was ten gave me zero pause, but the housing market getting easier? Now that's a stretch!) 

Then she kept showing me scenes from winter here. Not happy fluffy winter, but like, shitty weather winter. Rain, sleet, night, freezing cold. But being super duper happy. Like, truly joyful. "Unprecedented love and joy," kept repeating. Unprecedented? That's a lot! And it would be coupled with little scenes, some of which reminded me of childhood memories here. Now I find that I keep seeing echoes of that. Like, the light switches and doors in my apartment, the walls, they're all pretty old school. My front door gets me OFF it's so old. (Re-reading this sentence, I know it's weird but I'm sticking with it. I don't have an old people fetish, I have a vintage homes fetish. You know what? It's none of your business. My front door low-key gets me off, and it's nobody's business but mine. There.) My grandparents' front door had that same amber colored glass in the house they lived in when I was a kid. (Great, now this one has old people and a door and childhood memories in it. I should just delete this entire paragraph, fuck.) That's a deep level memory right there. My oldest memories of being in the place where I was born, in the bosom of my family, playing with my five million cousins? Whew. And I didn't even notice it until after I moved in, because the door was always standing open the other times I came here. And just like, the way the doors work here. (Okay, do I have a door fetish? What is my problem?!) I had to ask my landlady how to make it so that it doesn't always lock when it shuts, and she was incredulous, asking, "What, are doors that different in America?" I told her about how our deadbolts work and she was like, whuut. It was adorable. The little entryway to my place, how it has two doors. (What the actual fuck is wrong with me?) The front door and then a second door, so there's a defined area for your shoes, with a mirror and a little row of hooks for jackets. (STAAAAHHHHP!) Then right there is a storage closet that has an even older light switch and shelves in there and more jacket hooks. (Get a life you absolutely ridiculous freak of nature, why did you write this?! You're never drinking coffee after 9 pm again. Sweet Christ, this post is an epistolary Hindenburg. I should delete it but I'm leaving it up here as a punishment. You will cringe your FACE OFF in the morning, and you'll deserve it!) It's like, major flashbacks everywhere I look. (You disgust me.) And it doesn't feel weird at all, which is weird in and of itself. IT'S JUST WEIRD, PEOPLE, OKAY?! It's weird that it's not weird! (Tomorrow I want you to purchase an envelope and mail your creative writing degree back to the university that issued it with an apology. A POORLY WRITTEN one at that! I need an aspirin.)

It's just kind of cozy. (Fucking hell.)

But it does kind of suck being in a different time zone from my friends. They're asleep or working most of the time that I'm awake, then they all go online around midnight here. And I'm extroverted and need to talk and chat during the day, so that's kind of a bummer. When we do talk it's great, but I feel myself getting kind of blah from missing that. 

One day at a time. At least I can go to circle online now, which was never a possibility before the pandemic. I'm so unbelievably thankful for that little silver lining. 

I'll get these little signs that things are all right. Last night and tonight, really late, when I'm kind of starting to think like, "What am I even doing here?" there's some kind of little bird that whistles in the middle of the night out behind the house. Or I'll see a flower, or an animal, or a sequence of numbers or like, one of those angel/fairy twinkles in the air in front of me. Little things going, "It's all right." And I remember all the times before when I felt like this and I didn't know that Great Spirit was working behind the scenes, and in a few seconds would pop his cosmic hand through the veil and drop the next nice thing. 

Good night. 

googled "Cosmic Hand" and found this here: https://www.space.com/6544-cosmic-hand-reaches-light.html









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