Saturday, July 23, 2011

Yeah, So That Happened

Sooooo, I live in Los Angeles now. Leaving San Diego was hard, really hard. I cried all the way to Del Mar, but that's a whole other post that I will write soon. For now, the move and its aftermath...

Tom has been living and working in L.A. for the past month or so, and while he helped as much as he could on the weekends, most of the packing was up to me. Except for CDs and guitars; I'm discouraged from touching those. So after a week of family fun in Vermont, I set about finishing the packing that I had started before we left.

This was my apartment the night before moving day. It was a sad, scary place.

Thankfully, when moving day arrived, my mom swooped in to the rescue. She's awesome like that. She helped me pack up all those last minute things, plus the whole drawer of kitchen utensils that I had overlooked. She vacuumed the whole apartment; she even cleaned all the ashes out of the fireplace. Cinderella ain't got nothin' on my mama. I really don't know how I would have done it without her. Saying goodbye sucked though. No other way to put it. And, yes, I realize that we're only two hours apart now...

As soon as the moving truck was loaded, the Prius and I headed north. And, as mentioned, the tears dried up around Del Mar, but that was largely because I had to stop for DayQuil and throat lozenges because, oh yeah, I got my first serious cold of the year on moving day. Then I hit a major traffic jam, so I was too annoyed to be weepy.

Tom met me at the new pad to give me the keys because, oh yeah, I had never been there. For reals. I demonstrated what I personally feel is an award-worthy level of wifely trust in my husband's judgment and agreed to move in sight unseen. Apparently, Tom also found me to be award-worthy because when I arrived, I found a beautiful, white orchid sitting on the mantel in an otherwise empty apartment.
{Spanky survived the trip!}
When the movers arrived, they were less than thrilled to learn that we were on the second floor, but they soldiered on. Things got really interesting when they realized that our couch wouldn't fit through the door. They took the door off; still no dice. In an incredible show of dedication, the three-man moving team moved everything else in and then proceeded to couch plan C. Off the clock. Seriously, these guys were awesome. Couch plan C, however, was scary. Josue, the team lead, hooked up some sort of rope/pulley system and proceeded to... Pull. The couch. Over. The balcony. At one point, he was standing on the edge of the balcony, the couch tied to one end of a rope that was wrapped around his waist, the two other guys holding the other end of the rope. I don't have a picture of that moment, because I literally had to leave the room.

Tom took the screen off of the window in the kitchen, and I offered moral support and photographic documentation.
After much grunting and cursing (I believe Josue's exact words were, "You're comin' in, motherf*er), the behemoth was in.

That night, I think there was pizza, and I know there was NyQuil. I went to bed at ten, slept until almost noon the next day, and woke feeling ready to tackle the settling in.

That was exactly one week ago. The apartment is not done yet, but it' starting to feel like home. I have decided to use this move as an opportunity to de-dormify our decor. We're thirty, and therefore several years past the time limit on dorm chic. In other words, it is time to replace the Ikea furniture that has served me well for the eight (!) years since I graduated from college. The first victim of my de-dormification is Tom's octopus lamp.

{Adios, Ursula}
The octopus lamp has been my nemesis since Tom and I merged our possessions. He has finally agreed to let it go, in part because it can no longer stand on its own, hence the need to delicately balance it on the edge of the bookshelf. This more grown-up, tripod style lamp is on its way to me now...

{Thanks, World Market!}
My redecoration plans aside, I'm just about done. I got rid of the last of the boxes today, and everything has found a home. Well, almost everything. Turns out, I have a ridiculous amount of scrapbooks.

{Where do you guys want to live?}
And when I said I got rid of the last of the boxes, that wasn't exactly true. I got rid of all the boxes that were sitting in the middle of the floor. I did not get rid of the boxes that are safely hidden in closets. I have a ton of stuff from my classroom that I don't know what to do with. Happily, we have plenty of closet space.
{Tom's Tetris-like packing skills in full effect}
{This one really scares me. In fact, I can't believe I'm sharing this...}
It's not all doom and gloom though...
{I anticipate that it will stay like this for at least four days.}
And the kitchen is just about finished.

One last thing - this apartment gets so much light! After six months in the nearly windowless tunnel that was our last apartment, natural light is a revelation. Lucky for me, trusting Tom to make the call on the apartment paid off, the place is cute and the neighborhood is amazing. Sunday sealed the deal when we stepped out the front gate, looked to our left, and saw this...

{Ok, it doesn't look that impressive here, but I'm talking about those blue tents...}
Then we walked to the end of the block and saw this...
Yup, an awesome farmer's market, right down the block, every Sunday. I think our consumption of local, organic produce is about to increase exponentially.

I'm headed to San Diego tomorrow for some quality time with my family, some puppy Prozac, and wedding dress shopping! More pictures soon...

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