Mrs.Harmeyer has a job sweeping up hair at a beauty salon in downtown Hominy Knob, which consists
of a grocery store, a credit union, a hardware store, a consignment shop, and the beauty salon. Mr.
Harmeyer has been unemployed since the local tire factory burned down. Both Mr. and Mrs.Harmeyer
are very excited about their new house. They have been living in a trailer since they got married. Mitchell
is especially excited about the prospect of having his own room. Right now, he has to sleep in the same
bed as his mom and dad.
After we met theHarmeyers , and we were all standing in line to get our dinner salad, corn on the cob,
sloppyjoes (being vegetarian, I just took a bun of some of the vegetables), string beans, and cherry
cobbler, for desert Mrs.Harmeyer asked me if it was true about my being a princess and the tall guy
behind me being my bodyguard, and I said it was true.
"Well,whatchadoin 'spendin ' your Spring Break around here, then, if you're a princess?" Mrs.
Harmeyer wanted to know. "If I were a princess, I'd spend my Spring Break inCabo San Lucas,ridin '
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on one of them jet skis."
I explained to Mrs.Harmeyer that I had been compelled to join Housing for the Hopeful instead of
spending my Spring Break riding on jet skis out of a keen sense of civic duty and a desire to learn new
skills.
Mrs.Harmeyer just looked at me funny and went, "What?"
So then I told Mrs.Harmeyer I was there to make out with my boyfriend. She looked really interested
then and wanted to know which of the guys in line was mine, and when I pointed to Michael she went, "
Ooooeee, he's a looker," which filled me with internal pride but also made me feel like smacking her.
So then I thought I had better change the subject, and asked Mrs.Harmeyer if she knew the sex of her
unborn child yet. Mrs.Harmeyer surprised me by saying she didn't want to know, since if it was another
boy, she knew she'd never push.
I was shocked to hear a woman in West Virginia echoing the exact same thing my mom back in New
York City is always saying, and I asked Mrs.Harmeyer if she, like my mom, was an opponent to the cult
of the patriarchy, to which Mrs.Harmeyer replied, "Gosh, no, I just want somebody I can buyBarbies
for, instead of G.I. Joes."
After informing Mrs.Harmeyer that I fully understood her feelings, I took my food and went and sat
down by Michael. Lilly was at out table, too, filming everyone. She filmed all the Hominy Knob locals
who filed curiously past our table, pausing occasionally to ask me where my tiara was ( answer: "Back in
New York"), what it felt like to be a princess ("Okay") and why on earth I'd come to Hominy Knob
("To achieve self-actualization through selflessly helping others"). I didn't think the locals aside from
Mrs.Harmeyer would appreciate hearing about my desire to suck face with my boyfriend.
After dinner, Lilly declared she had enough footage for a miniseries, let alone a single episode of her
show. She decided she was going to have to do a month-long tribute to Hominy Knob on her cable
access show. She decided to call the documentary "Sour Mash and Medicaid: The Failure of the Federal
Government to Ease the Burden of the Rural Poor."
It will, she says, bring the current administration to its knees.
After dinner, Dr. Gonzales talked for a while, but I didn't pay much attention because I was thinking
about the Port-O-Lets. Now I know why we'd been instructed to bring flashlights. There are no lights in
the Port-O-Lets, so if you have to go in the middle of the night, you have to use your flashlight to see by.
What's more, there's no telling what else might be sharing that Port-O-Lets with you. I mean, if you ask
me, it's the perfect hangout for spiders, possibly black widow spiders whose bite can be deadly.At least
according to the Discovery Channel.
I am definitely bringing my insect repellant with me to the bathroom every time I have to go.
It was after Dr. Gonzales's long, boring talk that things really started to look up. That's because, walking
back to our tents, Michael took my hand (it was dark out, so no one saw), then pulled me behind a tree
and started kissing me in a highly romantic manner. It definitely took my mind off the Port-O-Lets for a
little while. Good thing I had my cherryChapStick handy.
But then Michael was like, "What's that smell?" and I sniffed and realized he was talking about my hair,
whichstill smelled like Boris barf.
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Why didn't I bring anyFebreze with me? WHY?
Anyway, the barf smell kind of ruined the mood. Besides, you couldn't even see any stars, it was
drizzling so much.
Oh, no.The "lights out" bell. We have to turn out our flashlights now, and go to sleep. I don't know how
anyone can be expected to sleep out here in the wilderness. There are all sorts of weird noises, like
hooting owls and crickets and stuff. At least we don't have to worry about bears, though. Lars opened
his duffel bag and pulled out a pup tent, complete with an inflatable air mattress, and set it up right in front
of our door. While this will make going to the Port-O-Lets in the middle of the night slightly difficult- and
will also, sadly, discourage any nocturnal visitations from boys it makes me happy to know that Lars is
out there with hisGlock9 mm and hisnunchaks ...even if he, like the rest of us, can't sleep due to the
incredibly noisy owls.
I missManhattan already. What I wouldn't give to be lulled to sleep by the dulcet tones of a car alarm.
Sunday, March 13, Noon, the dining tent
Oh, my God, every inch of me is sore. It is no joke trying to sleep on the ground. And the sides of our
tents kept flapping all night, and I thought it was the Blair Witch trying to get in.
Plus when we woke up, everything was drenched with dew.DEW. There is no dew inNew York City .
Pigeons, maybe.Lots of rats.But no dew.
Dew is my new enemy. Although thanks to it, my hair no longs smells like Boris's barf. Now it just
smells like...dew.
It doesn't help that I've done all morning is hold up wood frames. Apparently I am hopeless at
hammering, sawing, drilling, and pouring cement. Good thing I came all the way toWest Virginia to find
that out.
So I was in charge of holding up the woods frames while other people hammered them in, a task that
requires no skill whatsoever, just plenty of upper body strength... which I am, of course, lacking, but I
am not about to admit it to anyone.At least, not out loud.
Still, those frames are HEAVY! I mean, building houses is not easy.
Thank God for Michael, Lars, Dr. Gonzales, and PeterTsu . I don't mean to be sexist, but at this point in
the building stage, the guys are definitely doing a better job than girls although Tina has proven to be
pretty adept with the nail gun (lucky duck). I am pretty sure she is just doing it to look good in front of
PeterTsu , who has surprisingly shapely forearms as Lilly was quick to point out and film for posterity.
Peter is almost as hot asMulan's boyfriend, and he has the added bonus of not being a cartoon character.
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Nobody could be hotter than my boyfriend, though. I just wish it were sunnier out so Michael would get
&nbs
p; all sweaty and have to take his shirt off. That would make building houses WAY fun.
Well, that and actually knowing I was contributing to its construction in some meaningful way.
Anyway, our house is going up more quickly than anyone else's, despite our great handicap: Boris.
While I am in no real way helping to build our house, at least I am not making things worse, the way
Boris is. So far he has had two asthma attacks thanks to all the sawdust, and dropped a cinderblock on
his foot (it will be all right, it is just bruised, Dr. Gonzales says). We have now assigned him to keeping
Mitchel and Stefano from wandering too close to the chain saw, and refilling everybody's Gatorade
containers.
Oh, yeah. I know why Gatorade is so important now. Building a house is VERY tiring. You have to
replace your electrolytes constantly.
Mr.Harmeyer says beer is better for replacing electrolytes than Gatorade, but Dr. Gonzales pointed out
to him that alcohol dehydrates the body very quickly, and after that, Mr.Harmeyer shut up.
Lilly, who has been filming our progress with the framework of the house, insists that this new
documentary is going to rival her most celebrated work of all, "Travels With Lana's Coccyx Bone"
(witch Lilly shot, using somewhat crude animation, after Lana Weinberger's coccyx bone broke off and
disappeared into her bloodstream, thanks to a fall from a badly spotted basket toss. "Travels" showed
Lana's coccyx bone moving through Lana's body, carrying a little suitcase and visiting with the other
bones and stuff).
Lunch is salad, cornbread, mashed potatoes, and pork tenderloin sandwiches. I am just having salad and
mashed potatoes. I am sick of corn already, though I understand that it is a staple of theWest Virginia
diet, like bagels and lox are inNew York .
Sunday, March 13, 9 p.m., the tent
Too tired to give full account of day.Just held up more wood frames.For hours.
Dinner: salad, Tater Tots, hamburgers, corn. Just ate salad and Tater Tots. Sight of corn makes me want
to puke.
Fell asleep during inspirational speech by Dr. Gonzales.Woke up with head on Michael's shoulder. He
was very nice about it. Hope I didn't drool.
Can't believe I am too tired even to make out with own boyfriend.
Amgoing to sleep right now, too exhausted to wait for lights out.
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Monday, March 14, Noon, the dining tent
Woke to full-on rain.Wet wipes instead of showers for everyone. That's okay, my muscles would have
been too sore to carry my five-gallon solar shower bag to shower area anyway. Besides, I'm freezing
the dew soaked through my sleeping bag, right down to my pajamas. I feel like I've already had a
shower.
Fortunately wehad already framed in the roof of theHarmeyer's house.Spent morning applying gypsum
board to interior walls.Will shingle roof later if rain lets up. May be getting better at this house-building
thing, hammer only went through gypsum board five times. Mrs.Harmeyer says that's okay, she can hang
pictures over holes. But Michael says no, we will plaster over them.
Lunch is turkey sandwiches, potato salad, Jell-O, and corn chips.Ate potato salad and Jell-O.
Aw,geez , back to work.
Monday, March 14, 10 p.m., the tent
Too tired to write much.Rain let up and I spent afternoon on roof shingling with Lilly, Tina, and PeterTsu
. Only fell off roof once. Landed on Boris, so that was all right. Michael, Lars, and Dr. Gonzales installed
the plumbing. Mrs.Harmeyer cried when her toilet flushed for the first time. It was a deeply moving
moment.
After dinner salad, fried chicken, creamed corn, and rolls (only ate salad and rolls) Michael
surprised me by volunteering the two of us to "inventory the tools" in the supply tent.
I wasn't really sure how I felt about that, on account of the whole wet wipe situation. I mean, what if I
SMELLED?Made Trina smell me real quick. She said I smelled okay. But who knows if her nostrils are
as sensitive as Michael's????
Worried the whole way to supply tent that Michael would try to kiss me,then be repelled by possibleb.o
.
Except that when we got there, it turned out the supply tent was already occupied... by Mr.Wheeton
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and Mademoiselle Klein, no less!!!!
But that is not even the worst part. The worst part is, after they went away, Michael ACTUALLY
STARTED INVENTORYING THE TOOLS!!!!!!!
There is really only one explanation for this, and that is that I smell so bad, my own boyfriend does not
even want to make out with me.
As if this were not bad enough, I felt something crawling up my leg and looked down and saw the
world's biggest bug on my calf. I screamed so loud that Lars came bursting in with his gun drawn.
Michael said it was only a centipede.
ONLY A CENTIPEDE?IT TOUCHED MY SKIN!!!!!!!!
It is much easier to be an environmentalist when you live in the city where there aren't that many bugs,
than when you are in the country and are being eaten alive by them. I am not sure I love nature as much s
I used to think I did.
Tuesday, March 15, Noon, the dining tent
Worked all morning, still so much left to do, and this is LAST WORK DAY. But still must paint all
walls, and trim, too, plus install flooring, etc. Boris dropped a window shutter on his big toe, but Dr.
Gonzales said it isn't broken, just dislocated. He manipulated it back into place I would so never touch
Boris's feet. Dr. Gonzales is truly a saint and buddy taped it to the toe next to it so it would stay where
it is supposed to.
Mrs.Harmeyer has been complaining of heartburn since breakfast, but no one else is feeling sick.
Legionnaires's disease ruled out as we have been dining al fresco. Possibly result of two Diet Cokes she
downed with her eggs and bacon? Unborn child could bephenylketonuric .Warned Mrs.Harmeyer about
dangers of too much aspartame. It is a good thing I have watched so many episodes of A Baby Story on
the Learning Channel in preparation for the arrival of my new baby brother or sister. I am truly a front of
prenatal information.
Tuesday, March 15, 9 p.m., last day of home building
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So tired, but truly amazingday, must get it all down before I forget:
Finished building Mr. and Mrs.Harmeyer's house.When we were done, we all stood around and
marveled: we had built a three-bedroom, one-bath house in three days, complete with kitchen, dining
room, and family room. I mean, it is not aBIG house (only1,200 square feet , smaller than our loft) and it
isn't like theHarmeyers can afford cable or Ikea furniture or anything. But it is a house, not a double wide
like Mitchell and Stefano have been living in their whole short lives.
And you know,it didn't look so bad. I mean, we had spackled over the holes I'd made in the gypsum
board, so you couldn't even see them. And with the vinyl siding, it looked, I don't know. Like a REAL
house.
While we were standing there admiring our handiwork, Mrs.Harmeyer complained that she had a
wicked case of heartburn and had anyone else had the potato salad at lunch? I informed Mrs.Harmeyer
that, being a vegetarian, I had eaten nothing but potato salad for lunch, as it had been the only non-meat
dish available, and I felt fine. Then I opened my diary to the entry I wrote earlier today and showed Mrs.
Harmeyer that she had complained of indigestion after breakfast, as well. Was it possible, I asked, that
she wasn't having heartburn at all, but contractions? The two have occasionally been confused, even by
experienced mothers, at least according to A Baby Story.
Then Mrs.Harmeyer got all excited and yelled, "Oh, my God! Todd, get the pickup!"
So Mr. and Mrs.Harmeyer sped off for the hospital, leaving us in charge of Mitchell and Stefano. Dr.
Gonzales was way impresses by what he called my powers of observation. Not everybody, he said,