Snagged (again)

I'm waiting for my phone to finish charging before heading to the DMV. Again.  As I wait, I'm facing the very real possibility that my dreams of the RV life might be over! (For now).  To recap (do this slowly, I find it helps):

I need to register the camper.  To register the camper I must have 1) A New York State driver license and 2) Insurance on the camper.  Fine.  I'm heading out to get the driver license now.  Fingers crossed.

Part two . . . well now, therein lays the rub.  You see, there is front end damage on the camper.  Fine.  I am now learning that 1) Only certain insurance companies insure campers. And, 2) Nobody wants to insure a camper with damage on it.  Even for one day.  Without insurance, I can't register the camper.  Without registration I can't move the camper.  Without moving the camper, I can't get it fixed. Without registration and insurance I can't store it at the RV park with very reasonable rates (Did you read all that slowly?)

But I could get it towed!  (Never mind that the thing drives on its own, ok.) The first quote was  $250.00 (steep but do-able) plus $100.00/day storage.  Get out!  And the gentleman at the company I called couldn't think of anyone who could fix it. That freaked me out until a good friend pointed out that the Cruisemaster is really a van; I just needed someone who worked on vans. That calmed me down a little.

Unless I can find a way to get a one day permit to drive the camper to a location where I can store it for a reasonable price, I am facing the very difficult reality of having to junk my baby! This calls for ice cream. Except I'm lactose intolerant so I'm just going to think about ice cream.

DMV Blues of the Under Documented

All ambitious projects have snags in them; mine is no exception. I purchased the RV, fine. Now I need to move it perhaps 60 miles down the road from where it currently sits and store it while I decide how and when to do the repairs. Simple, right?

Most people are aware of how challenging it can be to live as an undocumented person in the United States. Most are unaware, however, of how difficult it can be to be under-documented, even if one is actually legally residing here. Just lose more than one piece of ID and see what happens, especially if you were not born in the U.S.

So, here's what had happened was.  First, I lost my certificate of naturalization (my citizenship papers, for the uninitiated). I actually don't believe I lost them. The most likely scenario is that I sent them to the Immigration people (they were called the INS back then) when I petitioned for my ex-husband's green card. They, in turn, never sent it back. If that is not the case, I have other suspicions but I am not at liberty to share them here. Ahem.

Then my passport got disappeared. I know how that happened. After the divorce, I asked my ex-husband to kindly return my passport to me. At the time that I, ah, removed myself from our shared residence, I could not remember the infamous "safe place" where I had put it. My ex-husband told the judge that he had found my passport and that he was riding on a bus in North Carolina when someone stole it from the outer pocket of his book bag. Whatever is making you scratch you head right now, believe me, the judge thought the same things.

Then I lost my driver license. Meaning, it literally fell out of my pocket on my way home from the grocery store. Ironically, as I had left for the store I had thought to myself, wouldn't it be just horrible if I lost this last remaining piece of government issued ID that I have?

Since then I've been skulking about town feeling very much under-documented, using my faculty ID at the grocery store, avoiding friends' gigs at bars, and praying that I never have to drive. Now you catch how hilarious that is, right? I'm going to live in an RV. Hahahaha. Right.

I comfort myself by believing that I am being allowed to experience these things so that I can better empathize with people who suffer silly yet mountingly significant misfortunes, one right after the other. Truly speaking, I cannot judge.

So why haven't I simply gotten a replacement driver license? Well, you see, in order to get a New York State driver license, I must have six points of identification, including one that proves my date of birth. Without citizenship papers or a US birth certificate I have been sort of stuck. Never mind, I thought, I'll just go back to California and get a replacement driver license. Except that, without a driver license or passport or other form of government-issued picture ID, I could neither fly nor drive.

I called the New Jersey Motor Vehicle Commission to find out what I needed to do to register the RV in New Jersey (where I preferred it be registered). It turned out that without a 1) New Jersey 2) driver license, I couldn't register the vehicle in New Jersey. WHO KNEW?! Just because I own a car doesn't mean I'm going to drive the car and why do I have to live in . . . that was not a battle I was going to win so I dropped it. Then I realized that I also could not register the RV in New York since I didn't have a New York license, either. My only option was to register the camper in CALIFORNIA!!! I could get a 20 day temporary registration in New Jersey but I'd have to have a driver license with a picture on it to get it. And, I wasn't going to drive the camper across the country to California quite yet. Especially since I wouldn't be able to produce a driver license in Texas along the way. It's all in the details.

So I called California.

California told me that they could send me a document (an abstract) giving me permission to drive (heeeyyy!) but it would not have a picture on it (ohhhh). I can't use the abstract to register the RV (in any state) or to fly to California. I'd also have to wait 7-10 days to receive it.

I decided to go the the New York State DMV to see if I could get a New York State driver license without presenting one from California. Thankfully, I did recently (finally) replace my citizenship papers. It took four  months and cost me $345.00!!! But, with proof of my date of birth, I could finally begin the process of changing my driver license.

With my citizenship certificate, faculty ID, social security card, divorce decree (for name change purposes) a blood sample and a picture of my California driver license in hand I headed for the DMV. I'm kidding about the blood sample but, at the rate things were going, that was about all I going to have left for ID.

Mercifully, the DMV is not far from where I live. The office opens at 8:30am.  I arrived at 8:45am and it already felt crowded. Being there brought back memories of the bad old days when going to the DMV meant an all day venture into officious hell and the even badder old days of lining up outside the INS at four a.m. in the dead of winter like cows waiting to be milked. Except the cows got a barn!

Things have really changed, though. The line moved quickly and the clerk was very courteous. I discovered that all I need is the abstract of my California driver license (yaaaayyy) and the documents that I already have to get the New York State license.  Then, with proof of insurance, I can register the  RV. See? Simple. I was on the bus and on my way back home at 9:15.  I'll be back at the DMV in 7-10 days.

Unshackling

Nightmare at U-haul

Now that I have my rig, I have to consider moving into it.  There is a fair amount of renovating to do but it is never too early to start planning the actual move.  In the past five years I've moved from a two bedroomed two bathroom house with a fully furnished basement to a one bedroom apartment to sharing an already furnished apartment. Somehow, the amount of stuff I have has not diminished a fast as my living space has. Instead, I am shackled to mountains of stuff in storage.

Storage is expensive. If I am to really embrace being happy, I need to get rid of all this stuff. It is a burden on my mind and on my wallet.

I actually got an encouraging start to paring down on the Friday before I bought my rig. I was about to blog about that when the big purchase happened so my story about selling my first item was delayed. Well, here it is.

When I first moved into my one-bedroom apartment, I had practically nothing. No bed, no chair, no table, not even a shower curtain. I bought the bed first. I splurged a little, bought a full-sized Serta from Sleepy's. I loved that bed. The second thing I bought was a plush and cushy comfy chair. Having a nice place to curl up with a good book and a glass of Martinelli was a priority for me. Sadly, I can't take either of those items on the rig; time has come for them to go.

I placed an ad on Craigslist - which can literally be like taking one's life into one's hands. I have put stuff on Craigslist before - with absolutely no luck - so I really didn't expect much. And then, about three days after I placed the ad, I received an email. Someone was interested in the chair. The person included a phone number so I called.

The voice on the other end was high energy but low pitched. The background was very noisy so what I heard was that Tony wanted to buy my chair, could he come by and see it that afternoon if his friend's van was available? Well, sure he could, I thought. And then I thought, it's Craigslist. What if Tony is a serial killer?

I reached out to my Facebook family, begging for someone to come with me and at least witness my demise. One friend wrote back saying, "I wish I could go with you . . . God has your back". What?  "No!" I replied. "God said 'Bring back-up!"

Tony called again to get directions and I gave him the address. I like to be sure that I am calling people by their correct names so I double-checked as we were about to end the call. "This is Tony, right?" I screamed into the phone. The background was still deafening. "Jasmine!" I heard in reply.  Jasmine?!  Lord have mercy, this was a woman on the line! My anxiety level immediately dropped but I chided myself for that. Women also kill, I thought. I still wanted someone to come with me.

Ultimately no one could go with me. I made sure that my phone was fully charged, told the people of Facebook where to find my body, and I figured that since I had to check in to reach my storage unit, someone would eventually figure out that I was missing and come looking for me. With that, I took off for U-haul.

Jasmine had not arrived when I got there. I decided to go to the storage unit to poke around while I waited.  I called Jasmine and asked her to call me when she arrived.  After about twenty minutes the call came through and I hurried down stairs and out to the gate. Jasmine said that she and her friend  (I'm calling her Ana) would be waiting in a green van.  Sure enough, I saw the van parked outside the gates in front of a lovely Econoline E450.

Rrrrowrrr!

This is when things got weird. As I reached the gate, three boys approached me. They must have been around eleven years old. They each had bits of yarn hanging from their heads (I have no idea). One of them said,

"Um, hey, I like your hair".
"Thank you", I replied.
The second boy said, "I'm Jamaican, too".

I chuckled to myself.  Apparently wearing dreadlocs was synonymous with Jamaican to them.

Then the third boy said, "Take me home with you." Huh? Now I was concerned. What was wrong here? Were these boys orphans? Did they need foster care? By this time I had reached Jasmine and Ana. The three boys trailed behind me repeating their request. Jasmine took one look and started yelling at them. Only then did I catch on to what was going on. These eleven-year-old boys were hitting on me! I was horrified! Jasmine chased them off, muttering about what happens when idiot boys see a fine booty, so I never got to ask the boys the question that still burns in my mind: What, precisely, did they expect to happen?

Jasmine turned out to be a delight. She curses like a sailor and her heart is as big as the universe. Ana played a ruefully amused straight-woman to Jasmine's antics.

Jasmine

Jasmine loved the chair! Her chair. No way would her husband and son get this chair, she declared. I actually felt a little choked up. I was so happy to know that my chair, my little island of refuge, was going to someone who would truly love and appreciate what it offered. If she couldn't have a room of her own, at least she could have her own comfy chair.

While I still have a long way to go before I have cleared out my stuff, I am really happy about how this part of my process has begun. I told Jasmine about my plan to live in a van. At first she looked at me as though I had newts growing out of my head. Then she got another look in her eye. An enterprising look. "You don't got kids?" She asked. "No," I answered and she nodded.  "Yeah, you can do this. This is a great idea.  Let me tell you whatchu gonna do." And then she gave me all the inside tips for how to get a van for free. She is quite the source of information and inspiration and good luck, apparently.  Just two days later I got my rig - not quite for free but almost.

I've Found My Thrill!

Home Sweet Home

I am so excited, I don't know where to start. At the beginning, perhaps? Sometime in March of this year I got this crazy notion to move into a bus and live a simplified life. After stumbling upon my first Skoolie conversion I went back and forth between buses, vans and campers.  I had settled on getting a van so that parking would be less of an issue.  I plan to stay in the New York area so that I can keep teaching.  I spent many, many hours late into the night searching eBay and Craigslist, dreaming and drooling over YouTube videos. I became obsessed with Econoline e450s. I learned to spot the difference between a Sprinter and a Transit (Mercedes and Ford respectively). I just knew that it would take me at least a year to be able to save up the five to seven thousand dollars I would need to purchase a van.

Then, about two weeks ago, another crazy notion popped into my head: Somebody is going to give me a van.

In the grand scheme of my crazy notions, this one was no crazier than the others.  I accepted it and kept on looking.  Then a camper, a class C listed at 23', caught my eye on eBay.  The starting bid was $100.00 and there was no reserve price. I could handle that. I decided what my top price would be (based on how much money I had managed to save by then) and started bidding in five dollar increments. I placed my first bid and immediately got notice that I had been outbid. Someone had set a higher maximum price.  I placed a few more bids then stopped. It was still more than a day before the auction's end and I didn't want to set off a bidding war.

The auction was set to end in the afternoon on May 12. That morning I checked the auction. The price had gone up to over $200.00. I put in a bid and (gasp!) got notice that mine was currently the winning bid!  I checked back an hour later and found that I had been outbid. Curses!

I was excited about the possibility of winning something that I could afford - even though it was the wrong thing!  I had been looking for a van, a Class B camper. This was a significantly bigger Class C RV. Where would I park?  Still, the chances of coming across a deal this good again . . . I couldn't rationally pass it up.  I placed another bid and won again. A few minutes later another bid came in. Now I knew that my counterpart was also bidding in very small increments and that those amounts ended in zero. I waited.

Fifteen minutes before the auction ended I decided to set my maximum price at $300.00.  No!  $305.00.   I sat and I waited, my eyes glued to the screen, watching the minutes tick by. At seven minutes before the deadline I placed my next bid and won. Again I waited, my heart pounding as though I were running a marathon. Nothing happened.  My counterpart was waiting, too.  At about three minutes before the auction ended I put in my maximum bid.  $305.00.  And I waited.  The eBay clock counted down the seconds and I watched, my heart thundering, my eyes riveted to the numbers ticking by.

Suddenly I saw the number of bids change. Twenty-six bids, twenty-seven bids. The clock ticked down to 60 seconds and more bids came in: Twenty-eight bids, then twenty-nine.  Bid thirty came in at 5 seconds before the deadline. Then the clock hit zero and a green bar appeared on my screen.  "You are the winner!" it said. I sat stunned and bug-eyed and paralyzed for a moment. My ploy worked!  I won! I had done it! What had I done? The price: $300.00.  Not free, exactly, but, considering my purchase, it was pretty darn close.

After about a full minute of stunned gaping, I dashed off a note to the seller:

Hi Rick*, my name is Bathabile and it looks like I've just purchased your RV! I'm really excited. May I send the payment tomorrow? Also, I live in NYC and will need to arrange for a place to keep the RV - especially while I renovate it. How long can it stay with you?

"It looks like I've just purchased your RV".  That was shock talking. I still wasn't entirely convinced. And what about the details? Would Rick expect me to take the van right away?  I decided to put worry aside. I wouldn't have won the van if it wasn't meant to happen and if it was meant to happen, then the parking situation would also get solved.

I was ready to pay for my purchase but discovered that the Rick had not provided an electronic option.  I had no idea how to pay for the van.  The instructions said to contact the seller. I had done that so I waited.  And waited.  And waited.

By the next morning I started to fear that, perhaps, Rick couldn't believe the price either. Maybe he was suffering seller's remorse. I had felt a little doubtful about this purchase the day before but now I was fully committed. I started having fantasies about decorating it and all the places we would go. He was going to sell me the camper, dammit!  So I called eBay.

It turns out that sales agreements on eBay are non-binding! Even though the auction was over and I was the winner, the seller was still free to back out of the deal (as was I). Who knew?! "But it's a contract," I wailed to the customer service representative on the phone.  I was ready, willing and able to make good on the deal. "How would you feel," the representative asked, "if your camper only sold for $300.00?" I was stunned.  Seriously?  "That's easy, set a reserve price!" I replied.  Thankfully, eBay has an option for sharing contact information with other members and so I sent a message to Rick with my phone number.  And I waited. I felt my initial excitement begin to seep from my heart and I started preparing myself to start the van search all over again.

Later that evening I finally got the email I was waiting for. It was Rick congratulating me on my purchase! He was going to sell me the camper! I literally jumped up and down. We arranged to meet the next day (Tuesday) so that I could give him the money and he could give me the title. I still couldn't believe it! Neither could a dear friend of mine who insisted on driving out to see the camper for himself.  Rick sounded a little amused but he agreed to meet my friend who ultimately confirmed that, yes, the camper did really exist, looked like the pictures, and yes it really did start.

Rick met me as we agreed. We ducked into a Starbucks where he wrote out a bill of sale and we both filled out the title document. I have ten days to register my new home. I'm looking for a place to park it.  I would appreciate any suggestions for a location that is in New Jersey but close to New York City without being outrageously expensive.

I don't have pictures quite yet. Look for another breathless update all about meeting my camper for the first time.  Would it be wrong to name her "Down by the River"?

*Rick isn't his real name. I don't (yet) have permission to reveal it.