The Big Move
So it can be a long story or a short story. It's my blog. It will be long. I'd been wanting to move for a while. This week I signed the lease and made the move. Friday I ducked out of a staff meeting early to meet the cable guy at the new place. 3pm. He showed up at 5. He worked for an hour and a half, spending a huge amount of time on hold - we watched a whole episode of The Simpsons together - and finally around 6:30 said he would have to get someone to finish it on Saturday because it wasn't working. Too bad, he was kinda cute - sexy Armenian guy, an artist (he showed me some of his etchings on his iPhone). But he had to leave to get dinner with his girlfriend. Oh well. So then I have no internet at the new place, and none at the old place, and I'm feeling withdrawal. I did get a call from my mover on Friday night, he'd be at my place between 9 and 11, but closer to 11. I sleep on the floor of the new empty apartment because I can hook my laptop to my TV and watch movies.
Saturday I go to the old place and finish packing. Eleven comes. Twelve comes. No show. Shit, I have to meet the cable guy at 1pm. So I leave a note on the door - late moving guy: you suck. I'll book someone else.
Then the new cable guy comes - less attractive, less friendly. He can't get it to work on my Macbook Pro, but eventually I figure it out and make it work. He leaves. Now I need to find a mover. So I get back on CraigsList and find someone willing to do it for my price. He'll call to confirm at 3:30. He does. But he can't get there until 6pm. I have a part to go to at 8. Shit.
Well, long story long, they start the move at 6pm and finish it after 10pm. I totally miss Don's birthday party because I was so tired from all the drama. And as I sit here Sunday evening, at 6:34pm, I wonder if I will be able to find clothes for work tomorrow in all these boxes.
One thing I know - when you move out of a place with lots of built-in cabinets, you do not have enough furniture to store your shit. Anyway, back to box-shifting...
Laugh Fest
I thought last week dressing up all G was pretty funny. I didn't know funny until this week. On Wednesday, some friends of Gus and Diane were performing at the Ice House. It's pretty cool to know people who are on stage doing stand-up. I feel like George Costanza from Seinfeld. Anyway, we went to the Ice House in Pasadena and Maria and Tony and a bunch of other people made us laugh. But none more than Maria and Tony. Except for the whole "hope you die of AIDS thing," I mean. But the ant in the armpit? Best line ever.
N'awlins
Only two more weeks until my New Orleans trip. I went ahead and booked my flight for the Saturday before the training starts. That way, I have a whole weekend on my own at the Wyndham Whitney before they move me to some motel or something for the conference. Oh yeah, I splurged a little bit. But it is the start of my frigging summer and I want to start it off RIGHT. So here's to crawdaddies and hot boys. Not at the same time.
Going Down
Down 6. The move meant eating out a lot - since dishes and pans and all were packed up. But I think the sweat from packing and unpacking must have balanced it out.
