Diablevert

They're multiplying like Tribbles

I told Strunk the other day that I don't seem to be solving any problems, just multiplying quandaries.

Quandary 1: How to send stuff, and how much of it to send?

Quandary 2: Where to stay?

Balance is the question. I want to take advantage of my luggage allowance to bring a fair amount of my clothes over, as well, I'm sure, as a number of deeply necessary odds and ends I'll be recalling with head-slapping gasps as my departure date nears. On the other hand, the vagaries of my plan require me to crash somewhere for at least a few days while I'm looking for an apartment, and I'd rather not drop a month's rent on a hotel room just as I'm trying to find a place to rent for the next month. And yet bringing a few suitcase's worth of my precious stuff all the way across the pond only to get it ripped off because the kids at Crazy Cousin Eddie's Hang-Loose Hostel were too stoned to lock the door to the coat check is a distressing prospect. I'm standing in the center of a see-saw, tilting first forward towards safe-but-ouch-my-wallet, then leaning a little toward cheap-but-sketch-du-jour, a scotch to the left with a "Hey, free continental breakfast;" a skitter to the right with "you might meet some chill folks to have a beer with;" "goose-down duvets;" "being able to afford to buy a couch;" "comfy;" "sleazy;" veering faster and faster from one to the other, afraid I'll fall splay-legged and impale myself on the fulcrum of an airport Hilton.