The Valley Had to Remind Me that it Sucks

One last post from the archives and I'll start in on life in 2013.  From 2008...

Over a year ago I moved out of Hollywood and into the Valley (yeah, I know) because my sis was moving here from the sticks and we needed a house with a yard in a low-key area. Well, Sis LaRue has since moved on home to Colorado, and I thought it was high time I got myself back to the city, so I am once again back in Hollywood and lovin' it. To get all sappy for a sec, lets all take a sec to say good bye to Sis LaRue and wish her well in the Rockies: Good bye Sis! We love you and wish you well, and we will miss you! K.I.T., K?!?!!?

Now on to the actual moving day...

Overall I pride myself on being pretty low key and able to easily roll with those proverbial punches; however, when I am in the midst of a move - even a move just across town - all that goes straight out the window, and my cool is lost at the drop of a hat, or box, as the case may be. I have lived in over 30 places in my 28-year life, so I consider myself to be a seasoned mover. None of that, but NONE of that experience came into play on this particular moving day.

I planned my move for Labor Day weekend so I would have three full days to move and settle into my new place. Like the great planner that I am, I made arrangements for my movers well in advance. I searched my local listings, compared costs, determined my best option, and carved in stone the appointment well ahead of my moving date. I acquired boxes and other moving supplies, and had everything packed neatly and ready to go in my living room. I called to confirm the movers. I forwarded the mail, canceled the utilities, informed my bank, my auto loan people, and my auto insurance. I called to confirm the movers. I sold all my major appliances that I will no longer need now that I am out of a house, and took boxes and boxes to Goodwill. I called to confirm the movers. I crossed all my t's and dotted all my i's.

Sis LaRue shipped out the day before my big move, and after she drove off into the sunset I got a tad emotional. Ok, so I got pretty damn emotional. Friend Devin said she would come over and help me put those final pieces of tape on my boxes and whatnot, so after sitting on my kitchen floor for a while crying I phoned Devin up to choke out "where the [sob] heck are [sob] you???" She arrived shortly thereafter and we finished neatly stacking the boxes and cleaning the house as the movers would be there at ten sharp the next morning.

I went to sleep and awoke at 8:00 am fully pumped and rip-rearin' to go. I headed over to the ATM to get enough cash for the movers then to the grocery store for a quick and easy bite to eat and by 9:55 am I was perched eagerly on my kitchen counter, eyes peeled for a moving van.

10:00 came and went...

10:15 came and went - they probably just got lost. Yeah. That's it. Not everyone is as obsessively punctual as you, Dopey, relax!

10:25 - Alright! Time to call. Dial. "Hello! You have reached the voicemail for..." GRRR! Leave a message. "Hi! This is Dori, and we had arrangements to move me to Hollywood this morning at 10. It is coming up on 10:30 now, so I just want to make sure you are not lost or anything." Repeat the procedure at every single phone number I have for him.

10:35 - Where the fu....

"RIIIIIIING" Sweet! That's him!

"Hello? This is Dori"

"Hi Joy* this is Lame-O-Movers. Hey listen, the latch on my truck broke yesterday so I am just gonna move you in my pick up, cool?"

"Come again? So, [stay calm] what you are telling me is that I agreed to pay you by the hour to move my life in what should be one trip in the secure, enclosed moving truck you advertise, but now you want to move everything I own in what will most likely be at least four trips in your open, my-stuff-flappin'-in-the-breeze pickup truck and you are asking me if that is cool???? NO! If that is what I wanted I would have called a friend!"

"So...you want me to come or what"

"How far away are you even? You were supposed to be here over half an hour ago!"

"Yeah, I can probably leave here in about half an hour"

Click

As my phone snapped shut it dawned on me that I had cancelled all my utilities so I would have no Internet connection to search for alternate movers, and that it was Labor Day weekend, the end of the month - a time when most people do their moving, and the day of my move so chances are finding another moving company were about as great as me marrying Keanu Reeves anytime soon (i.e. not good). To add to that, BMF was helping another friend move this same day and couldn't be there to help, not to mention the fact that his cell phone decided to hate me and break so I couldn't even get a hold of him.

This is when my relaxed persona was stomped to death in a hissy fit that could rival the most spoiled of My Super Sweet 16ers. I didn't have to unpack a mirror to know that it wasn't pretty. "OK, self" I said to myself. "Looks like your only option is to find a U-Haul and yank a few day laborers off the street." Seemed like a simple enough plan to me and I patted myself on my back for being so quick on my feet under the circumstances. Even so, I called BMF to leave a message informing him of the change of plans in the off chance he would get my telepathic cries and be able to check his messages.

Turns out he did. Also turns out that he wasn't as impressed with my idea as I was, "Can you HEAR yourself, Dopey??? That is the DUMBEST idea I have ever heard! Listen to what you are saying! GRRR! Just try not to do anything stupid and I will call you back in a minute." We really do communicate like an old married couple...or a couple of sibling-rivalry-addled kids, but it is all out of love. Really. Five minutes later BMF calls back, "There is a dude coming at three with a big truck and two helpers. Good guy; helps a lot with [BMF's place of employment]. Tip him big; this is a huge favor." Thanks duder.

As I had a couple of hours to kill I headed over to Home Depot to pick up some paint as I had to return my slate-blue bedroom walls to boring white before vacating. Picked up some primer, paint, and extra rollers and headed to the checkout. Where I discovered my ATM card was gone. Lovely. I pay for my packages, run out to my car and proceed to throw yet another tantrum. I am finally able to convince myself that it is far more productive to call the bank than to freak out in a parking lot. The bank is actually able to help me surprisingly fast. We made sure no fraudulent charges went through, cancelled my card, and reissued another within five minutes. I even had enough time to run to the nearest bank branch to pull out cash before they closed for the three-day weekend.

Back home from the bank with paint in hand, it really seemed like the day was back on track. But because my body couldn't deal with things going well, it decided to start purging the contents of my stomach, as it is apt to do when I am under pressure. So now I am vomiting. Violently. And out of my nose, too. Lovely, eh? Thought you'd like that. This was the last kink, though, and everything went decent after that. I painted my walls, the movers came, we relocated me, I went back and finished cleaning my old house, and was in my new place and completely unpacked by the time I returned to work on Tuesday.

You know how people say sit-coms aren't real because problems aren't solved that easily or quickly? More often than not it seems like they really are. Oh, and my new place totally rocks, but that is another post.

*This never ceases to amaze me. Just how in the heck is it possible for SO many people to hear "Joy" when I say "Dori"? I inevitably and reluctantly end up saying "like the fish...yeah..."