These conversations happened within a few hours of each other, and I should throw out there that Kellan and Brittney (my brother and cousin, respectively) did not talk to each other during those few hours in between.
Me: I'm gonna go make some muffins.
Kellan: You're gonna go make some weapons?
Me: No, muffins! Dumbass.
*Later that day*
Me: Brittney, would you like a muffin?
Brittney: A...what?
Me: A muffin. I made them today, they're delicious.
Brittney: Oh, I thought you said "weapon".
Me: ...Really?
Is it...is it me?
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Into The Abyss
You know what blows about moving? EVERYTHING.
Well, I guess that's not completely true. The change of scenery is pretty exciting, and I love picking out new things and deciding color schemes and stuff. But as far as preparation goes? Fuck that noise. This rant will be presented to you in non-order-specific list form, because I read a lot of Cracked.com and I love lists.
Top 5 Things That Make Moving a Nightmare:
Finding an Apartment
At some point we all get that restless need to be somewhere other than where we are. Whether you want to get out of town, out of the state, or even out of the country, you first need a place to go. Last time I moved, I went from my hometown to a town about 20 miles away. Apartment hunting there was easy - I worked there, so I was already familiar with where a lot of rentals properties were. Living so close gave me the flexibility to schedule showings pretty much whenever it was convenient for the landlords, and I found a place within a week.
This time around I moving to a town that's a 2-hour drive from my hometown. As you might imagine, this makes things a little more complicated. I can't just go there to cruise around looking for "For Rent" signs. I had to do a lot of my research online - local online newspaper listings, realty websites, even Craigslist. I sent emails and made phone calls. I literally spent 3-4 hours on this daily for almost 2 months. It was a colossal pain in my ass, but it paid off. I was lucky enough to find a brand new post on Craigslist that sounded good. I trusted it without pictures (generally a terrible idea) and I emailed the lady. She said I was the first to contact her, we set up a showing, I fell in love, and now it's my new place.
So in the end all your hard work will pay off and you'll find an apt or house that you absolutely adore, but your adventure is far from over. Next you have to contend with...
Packing
Now, I will argue that packing is probably the most important part of moving, except for maybe actually finding a place to live. But being important doesn't mean it sucks less. With this particular move I've gotten lucky - I've only been living in my Dad's house again for a couple of months, so my stuff hasn't had much chance to spread out hide itself. As a matter of fact, I have barely unpacked from my move home, with the exception of my clothes and my video games (priorities, people). But that doesn't stop 90% of my things from somehow ending up buried in the basement where I just can't find them.
Then there's the packing itself. It's not enough to just cram as much random stuff into a box as possible, tape that shit shut and send it on its way. See, I've tried that method before, and while it seems like a fine idea at the time, it makes the subsequent unpacking a complete clusterfuck of a disaster. In a single box I will find things that belong in the kitchen, the bathroom, my bedroom, and wherever video game paraphernalia and yarn belong. After one box, I'm ready to scrap the project altogether. I resort to digging for stuff when I need it, which eventually results in everything getting unpacked (just in time to pack again for the next move!).
I'm so negligent when I pack that some of my stuff gets damaged or broken, and a lot of it seems to disappear completely, which brings us to...
Buying New Stuff
With each move I must go through a cycle of gaining new things and getting rid of old things. Whether it's due to a matter of changing tastes or simply a love of wasting money, I would estimate that I replace 65-75% of my stuff every time I move. Sometimes I need to - things get broken or worn out or become obsolete. Most of the time, though, there's no logical explanation for it. I try really hard to rationalize my obsessive replacement of perfectly functional household items ("This blue toothbrush holder just doesn't flow with what I have planned for my new bathroom," I'll say, "And I'm not in love with these dishes anymore!"), but honestly I just like new stuff.
I realize this one can sound like a positive, because hey, who doesn't love shopping? But you have to consider that I have already put down $1,050 on this apartment, what with the security deposit (including an extra $200 for my cats) and the first month's rent. Then we have to look at how much money I make. I won't bore you with the details, but I usually work anywhere from 20-30 hours a week on a salary befitting a part-time video store employee (read: peanuts). It took about 6 weeks' pay to cover that and have enough money leftover to put gas in my car so that I could get to work. My point is that shit is expensive. Really fucking expensive. But nothing gets more expensive than...
Furniture
I'm fortunate enough to have a giant family on both sides, so when I need furniture I can usually borrow something off of somebody or buy it from them for next to nothing. I've got a glider rocking chair in my apartment (where I like to sit when I crochet - Crazy Cat Lady FTW!) that I got from my aunt, a loveseat I got from a family friend, and an ugly chair that I got...well I have no idea where it came from. So that's pretty great, but the loveseat is not very attractive, and I really need an actual couch. It'll do in the short term, but eventually I'm gonna have to bite the bullet and either buy new (another 2 paychecks, and that's for something low-end) or brave Craigslist and sift through all the ads for a "Beautiful Couch!" - all of which have hideous floral patterns, so I don't know who they think they're fooling.
That's just furniture for one room. You still need a table and chairs (if your kitchen is big enough or you have a dining room), a bed, a dresser, nightstands, a desk...the list is endless. At the outset having to gather all these things seems like a fun project. Once you realize how much you have to spend, and then that you're going to have to not only find somebody with a truck, but move a queen-sized bed up a tiny staircase, suddenly all the fun vanishes, and it's just work.
And then, once you finally have everything (mostly) that you need, we come to the final stage...
The Move Itself
This is it. The day has arrived. Time to pack all that shit up in the truck that you hopefully secured from a friend or family member and move it to your new place. Now is the time when you start to wonder why in the hell you asked for the second floor apt instead of the ground floor, when you realize that the hall closet isn't quite as big as you remember, when you find out that you brought way too much fucking stuff with you.
Unless you've been blessed (I'm employing a very loose interpretation of that word) with 3 brothers like I have, you might need to do some serious bribing to get friends to help you. Actually, most people aren't assholes, and if you offer them pizza and beer they'd probably be more than happy to assist. But it helps if you've got family you can rely on, especially when you've gotta move a long way. You may also have to contend with unfriendly weather conditions, high gas prices, and the hassle of taking pets with you.
In the end, I'm sure it'll all be worth it. I'm not moving to get away from here, I'm moving to finish school and...well, ok, kind of to get away from here, too. But I do love my apartment, and I am excited to get there.
I just need to keep remembering that when I am nursing sore muscles and trying to figure out where in the hell I packed my TV remote.
Well, I guess that's not completely true. The change of scenery is pretty exciting, and I love picking out new things and deciding color schemes and stuff. But as far as preparation goes? Fuck that noise. This rant will be presented to you in non-order-specific list form, because I read a lot of Cracked.com and I love lists.
Top 5 Things That Make Moving a Nightmare:
Finding an Apartment
At some point we all get that restless need to be somewhere other than where we are. Whether you want to get out of town, out of the state, or even out of the country, you first need a place to go. Last time I moved, I went from my hometown to a town about 20 miles away. Apartment hunting there was easy - I worked there, so I was already familiar with where a lot of rentals properties were. Living so close gave me the flexibility to schedule showings pretty much whenever it was convenient for the landlords, and I found a place within a week.
This time around I moving to a town that's a 2-hour drive from my hometown. As you might imagine, this makes things a little more complicated. I can't just go there to cruise around looking for "For Rent" signs. I had to do a lot of my research online - local online newspaper listings, realty websites, even Craigslist. I sent emails and made phone calls. I literally spent 3-4 hours on this daily for almost 2 months. It was a colossal pain in my ass, but it paid off. I was lucky enough to find a brand new post on Craigslist that sounded good. I trusted it without pictures (generally a terrible idea) and I emailed the lady. She said I was the first to contact her, we set up a showing, I fell in love, and now it's my new place.
So in the end all your hard work will pay off and you'll find an apt or house that you absolutely adore, but your adventure is far from over. Next you have to contend with...
Packing
Now, I will argue that packing is probably the most important part of moving, except for maybe actually finding a place to live. But being important doesn't mean it sucks less. With this particular move I've gotten lucky - I've only been living in my Dad's house again for a couple of months, so my stuff hasn't had much chance to spread out hide itself. As a matter of fact, I have barely unpacked from my move home, with the exception of my clothes and my video games (priorities, people). But that doesn't stop 90% of my things from somehow ending up buried in the basement where I just can't find them.
Then there's the packing itself. It's not enough to just cram as much random stuff into a box as possible, tape that shit shut and send it on its way. See, I've tried that method before, and while it seems like a fine idea at the time, it makes the subsequent unpacking a complete clusterfuck of a disaster. In a single box I will find things that belong in the kitchen, the bathroom, my bedroom, and wherever video game paraphernalia and yarn belong. After one box, I'm ready to scrap the project altogether. I resort to digging for stuff when I need it, which eventually results in everything getting unpacked (just in time to pack again for the next move!).
I'm so negligent when I pack that some of my stuff gets damaged or broken, and a lot of it seems to disappear completely, which brings us to...
Buying New Stuff
With each move I must go through a cycle of gaining new things and getting rid of old things. Whether it's due to a matter of changing tastes or simply a love of wasting money, I would estimate that I replace 65-75% of my stuff every time I move. Sometimes I need to - things get broken or worn out or become obsolete. Most of the time, though, there's no logical explanation for it. I try really hard to rationalize my obsessive replacement of perfectly functional household items ("This blue toothbrush holder just doesn't flow with what I have planned for my new bathroom," I'll say, "And I'm not in love with these dishes anymore!"), but honestly I just like new stuff.
I realize this one can sound like a positive, because hey, who doesn't love shopping? But you have to consider that I have already put down $1,050 on this apartment, what with the security deposit (including an extra $200 for my cats) and the first month's rent. Then we have to look at how much money I make. I won't bore you with the details, but I usually work anywhere from 20-30 hours a week on a salary befitting a part-time video store employee (read: peanuts). It took about 6 weeks' pay to cover that and have enough money leftover to put gas in my car so that I could get to work. My point is that shit is expensive. Really fucking expensive. But nothing gets more expensive than...
Furniture
I'm fortunate enough to have a giant family on both sides, so when I need furniture I can usually borrow something off of somebody or buy it from them for next to nothing. I've got a glider rocking chair in my apartment (where I like to sit when I crochet - Crazy Cat Lady FTW!) that I got from my aunt, a loveseat I got from a family friend, and an ugly chair that I got...well I have no idea where it came from. So that's pretty great, but the loveseat is not very attractive, and I really need an actual couch. It'll do in the short term, but eventually I'm gonna have to bite the bullet and either buy new (another 2 paychecks, and that's for something low-end) or brave Craigslist and sift through all the ads for a "Beautiful Couch!" - all of which have hideous floral patterns, so I don't know who they think they're fooling.
That's just furniture for one room. You still need a table and chairs (if your kitchen is big enough or you have a dining room), a bed, a dresser, nightstands, a desk...the list is endless. At the outset having to gather all these things seems like a fun project. Once you realize how much you have to spend, and then that you're going to have to not only find somebody with a truck, but move a queen-sized bed up a tiny staircase, suddenly all the fun vanishes, and it's just work.
And then, once you finally have everything (mostly) that you need, we come to the final stage...
The Move Itself
This is it. The day has arrived. Time to pack all that shit up in the truck that you hopefully secured from a friend or family member and move it to your new place. Now is the time when you start to wonder why in the hell you asked for the second floor apt instead of the ground floor, when you realize that the hall closet isn't quite as big as you remember, when you find out that you brought way too much fucking stuff with you.
Unless you've been blessed (I'm employing a very loose interpretation of that word) with 3 brothers like I have, you might need to do some serious bribing to get friends to help you. Actually, most people aren't assholes, and if you offer them pizza and beer they'd probably be more than happy to assist. But it helps if you've got family you can rely on, especially when you've gotta move a long way. You may also have to contend with unfriendly weather conditions, high gas prices, and the hassle of taking pets with you.
In the end, I'm sure it'll all be worth it. I'm not moving to get away from here, I'm moving to finish school and...well, ok, kind of to get away from here, too. But I do love my apartment, and I am excited to get there.
I just need to keep remembering that when I am nursing sore muscles and trying to figure out where in the hell I packed my TV remote.
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