More On Metairie

Upon my return to Houston from my first visit to Metairie since Hurricane Katrina, I felt too overwhelmed to convey the myriad feelings that I experienced back in LA.

How can I express the joy of playing a normal (albeit three-handed) game of mah jongg with my friends Lisa and Amy? How giddy we got, how we kept forgetting whose turn it was, even though we were drinking nothing stronger than Diet Coke? To be able to laugh together over shared jokes, to lament the damage to Amy's condo after the weeks and weeks of painting and work she had done on it since she moved in? To curse the storm that had sent my family scuttling like crabs, even though our house was just fine?

I saw other friends too, and each time I went to where I expected to see them, I took my digital camera to make sure that I'd have a photo or two to remember them by. What is striking to me is that it took me a VERY short time to decide I wanted to be in LA, and STILL I kept carrying the camera everywhere. I told myself, "No, I don't need to get a photo of Big Dog Steve, for I'll be back...I don't need a shot of Lisa, or of Anne. I know where I will see them from now on, when I am back here, settled." So I kept checking my camera, to make sure I'd have enough room on the card to get a nice shot of Robert and Bugsy, a nice shot of Val, etc. but I never took a photo of anyone!

Everywhere in Metairie were Help Wanted signs. It's a (low-level) jobseeker's paradise. After the tsouris (Yiddish for agony, stress) of trying to get hired by the Houston PetWorld as an animal trainer, I visited the PetWorld closest my house on Sunday afternoon. It looked as if it had not been open for a long time. I thought of visiting the more distant PetWorld in Elmwood, but I remembered how once before it had flooded badly, just from heavy rain. I assumed it could not possibly be in operation.

I drove to my regular veterinarian's office, where friends had seen a banner announcing the acceptance of job applications. Working either the front desk or cleaning cages was not likely to pay well, but I held out hope that perhaps once in a while, I could talk shop with the wonderful Dr. Watts. Perhaps, given the extraordinary nature of the Metairie job market, they would consider hiring me. I caught him meeting with building contractors at the clinic that Sunday, and pleaded my case. He said that one of the female office employees was actually in charge of hiring, so I'd have to see her the next day. For the first time in many months of job-hunting, I felt hopeful.

The next day I visited the PetWorld near Elmwood, despite my expectations of flooding there. They were allowing folks to come in and to apply for work. I found out they already had two animal trainers, but I was referred to the PetWorld near my house directly south of me on Veterans. I told the manager, Ben, of my efforts to be hired in Houston, how I had wanted to stay in Houston, but how my heart had taken a 180-degree turn as I drove into my neighborhood. They hired me, contingent on my passing the urine test, background checks, etc. I didn't have to lie about being a licensed psychologist. I was buzzing with excitement.

I start November 7th. Finally someone in this family has an income that doesn't come from FEMA, insurance, or the Red Cross. I get medical, dental, vision, 401K, even pet insurance! I can't wait to undergo my training as a Pet Training Specialist I (it's all positive reinforcement, much like the Bob Bailey workshop I flew to Seattle for three years ago) and to start work.

I didn't want to leave Metairie, and cleaning up the house a little and packing the car went very slowly. As my mah jongg friend Lisa says, everything takes infinitely longer to do here than it used to: one day her sole accomplishment was buying a mop. You'll be in a store, and you'll see someone you used to know-- not very well, but a passing acquaintance--and you'll be full of desire to learn where that person had been during the hurricane, and how his or her house had fared, and where that person was currently living... Yes, it seems excessive and sappy, but I remember my elation when I recognized a worker at the C's Pharmacy on Veterans, who used to work at the branch we frequented on West Esplanade. A middle-aged woman with a loud voice--the familiarity of her face was the visual equivalent of comfort food to my home-starved eyes.

So you add in the requirement of catching up with friends at the store or at the Solutions Club each day, and you have a recipe for SLOW progress. I discovered I had a broken headlamp and it took hours to get it fixed (mechanics are busy, as are construction and home repair people), and the urine test and further application paperwork at PetWorld took longer than expected, so I needed to postpone my departure by one day. Joel was angry and hurt by the delay, even though it had nothing to do with him.

So, anyway, I am home again in Houston, the dogs are happily underfoot, and I am surrounded by the noise and mess generated by a family crammed into a two-bedroom apartment. Katie's detritus is everywhere, even though Joel and Katie tried to clean up in honor of my return.

Because of Ethernet routing limitations, Joel and I are forced to place our computer desks side by side, so he is all of six feet from me. All day long, and every evening. At night--in the same room--I lie next to him on the floor, holding the sound machine at an angle so it will blast wind and storm noises at me to drown out his snoring. I have to go to bed earlier than he does, in the hope that I'll be asleep before he starts to snore. During the day, he leaves the television on for company, so even when he's computing in our bedroom, I can hear it--it sounds like it's right in this room. The sound pollution grates on me.

I realized that my situation was dangerous when I was in Metairie alone. I felt happily free. The stillness was disturbing but still liberating. I had room to breathe. And now I am back here, and it is stifling. One morning back in Houston I had the frightening realization that it was crammed together in a ONE-bedroom apartment that saw the demise of my marriage to my ex-husband, Roger. (He couldn't find work in LA, so stayed in CO and visited in short, very painful bursts.) Overwhelmed with this cabin fever, I have taken to sleeping many extra hours everyday, just because when I am asleep I need not interact with Joel or Katie. Katie stays online in her room, claiming to be grouchy and wanting to be alone, but just happy not to have to interact with her boring, demanding parents. Were we back in Metairie and she acted this way, I would worry more, but I think it is understandable that we're trying to each find our own private space.

Joel has tried to make all sorts of contacts here in Houston, and is STILL waiting to hear from a couple of possible employers/collaborators. He said he wanted to stay in Houston (although he acknowledged feeling the desire to stay in Metairie during the time he was back there a few weeks ago). Supposedly they would tell him at the end of October. Nothing to do, and no plans can be made. He felt ambivalent about my job--happy for me, but still wondering, I'm sure, how we'd make it on a non-professional salary. Should he continue to put out feelers in Houston?

Katie's school in Metairie is supposed to re-open in January, but there are no guarantees. If we were to return to Metairie before then, she could do home schooling with her math tutor who is a fully certified teacher, attend the local public middle school, or attend the public magnet school in Old Metairie that many of her old classmates from the Jewish Day school are attending. My family of origin has a longstanding tradition of staunch support of public schools, whereas Joel's background has been entirely in private schools. I never fought him on it before because it was a luxury we could afford. Now, who knows?

Joel was talking to the synagogue manager today and getting excited for the first time about our moving back. Although he still holds that if a million-dollar job landed in his lap in Houston, that he'd plant his feet here to stay, he is now describing his Houston job search as full of nice people but NO substantive offers. He says that he appreciates that trying to arrange the sale of our Metairie house while adapting to a new city AND a new job might be more than he can take.

Today he said to me, "I guess we could do it in two trips--the first could be as soon as this weekend" and then he got online to figure out if renting a truck and towing his car would enable us to do it in one trip. (It looks like it would.) I've been waiting for this level of activation on Joel's part for so long! Now I feel like I finally have a reason to be awake. I wish we could pack up today. Unfortunately, we have to give a full 30 days' notice on this apartment, but if we leave soon, they'll have lots of money to cover the carpet shampooing and cleaning crew needed to repair after us.