Boxes, boxes and more boxes....

Yes, I know I am woefully behind on posts. I get that. But bear with me while I make all sorts of excuses.... Okay, well maybe just one.

Our sea shipment arrived.

All 195 boxes of it.

!!!!

And I'm still unpacking. Kind of makes me wonder why we have so much crap. I mean, do I really need three pairs of boots and more pairs of shoes than I'm willing to admit to owning? Um, yeah, because I might just manage to get a real job (correction, a paying job, since I already have a real job!) again one of these days, and then I'd be kicking myself for getting rid of all of my awesome shoes. (And for those of you wondering, no, my shoes didn't require their own ship.)

Having said that though, I have to admit to a certain amount of envy for those individuals who manage to live with only what they can fit in the back of their cars. Oh wait, in my case, that would be the kids, so scrap that idea. More like what I can fit in the back of my car (kids) and a large moving truck (their stuff.)

The problem with movers is that they are programmed to cram as much as they can in to every box. As long as they can still carry it, it's all good, and it doesn't matter if shoes are packed in with antique china.

I'm not kidding.

Sand filled sneakers were packed on top of paper wrapped china so successfully that little bits of sand made their scratchy way into all the cups and saucers. Now that people, is real talent!

And what spaces movers can't pack with "stuff," they pack with paper. Reams and reams of paper. While I wouldn't normally care about having boxes and wads of crumpled paper stacked 4 feet high all over the house (I mean, other than the obvious fire hazard) it makes it hard to find the kids, and so the unpacking and sorting continues.

The Zoo....

So a couple of weeks ago, I took the kids to the zoo. The kids were thrilled, probably because they thought I was finally going to make good on my promise to sell them to the monkey house if they didn't behave. (Threat efficacy is a work in progress.)

So bus, U-bahn, long scenic walk (translation, we got lost wandering around the grounds at Schoenbrunn Palace) and we finally arrive at the zoo. Stand in line to purchase tickets. Look at cost of tickets and decide that annual pass is the way to go. Finally get to front of the line and go up to the window. Conversation proceeds something like this....

Me: "Hi! I'd like to get an annual pass for the zoo."

Cranky Zoo Official: "I need your resident cards."

Me: "Um, I don't have a resident card. Am I able to get annual passes anyways?"

CZO: "Do you have an ID card?"

Me: "No, we've just arrived here. I have my Canadian driver's license, will that work?"

CZO: "Fine. Please write down your names and birth dates, address, phone number and places of employment."

Me: "Um, I'm not applying for a passport. I just want to be able to bring my kids to the zoo." (Against my better judgement, I refrained from asking where I should leave the DNA sample.)

I bought day passes.

UPDATE: September 15, 2010

According to the Austrian Government, I'm now legitimate. AND I have a little card to prove it.

My parents will be so proud.

Oh, and I can buy an annual pass to the zoo....