2008-02-18 - 8:38 p.m.

Yay! I now have my great grandfather's desk completely set up, stocked and beautified. This is a very significant thing. I've been waiting for this moment for almost ten years.

I've had my eyes on this desk since I was a little girl. My great grandfather, Papa, used to let me sit at it and spin around in his office chair and play with all the pens he had in the top drawer. I liked to write my name with every single pen he had. Papa was possibly the most awesome of all my male ancestors. I loved Papa. We all loved Papa.

Later, after Papa died, my grandfather, Opa, took over the desk. I still liked to sit at it and kind of fiddle around in the drawers breathing in the scent of my childhood. When Opa died the house was sold and all the contents given away to family members or others. I made out like a bandit somehow. I not only got my grandmother's bedroom furniture (the vanity!!!) but I also got the beloved 50's Barbie dolls AND Papa's desk.

When Opa died I was still with Jon (my ex boyfriend). Actually, when Opa died I was NOT with Jon because I had done one of my break-up attempts a few weeks before Opa died. But...Opa's death brought us back together and all the furniture I inherited was taken directly to the warehouse that Jon's family owns and stored away safely until Jon and I found a house of our own. Which we attempted to do. And failed miserably at because neither of us REALLY wanted to go through with it. (I mean, it should have been pretty obvious that we were both trying to sabotage it...we had land AND $1000 worth of house plans printed, but we still managed to stall the actual building of the house until finally, two years later, I broke up with him for good.) Anyway...after Jon and I broke up I was faced with the furniture. My little house had no room for it and I didn't have anywhere to store it. Jon said I could keep it in the warehouse for as long as I needed to. And then he stopped speaking to me for nearly three years. And then started the whole deal with my friend Kathy who told me she would get my furniture from Jon (she called him and arranged times, because he wouldn't speak to me). But every time she arranged to go get it, she would cancel on him. So I paid for that empty storage space for six months. Somewhere in that time Jon started speaking to me again and I was able to then pay the dishwasher from work $50 to drive over there in a U-Haul and get my furniture. Then I moved to Spain.

And now finally. Finally. Finally. Finally. Finally I am in a space where I can have all my stuff. I can finally have Papa's desk. I can finally sit at Oma's vanity and dab perfume behind my ears like she did. This all bodes well for me. I think, for once, I am in the right space.


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