Category Archives: Blah-blah-blah

ow

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Well, I survived. The movers came yesterday & got everything, and I spent the rest of the day trying to unpack & get settled. There’s still a lot to be done, of course, but the furniture is where I want it for the most part. And once again proving that klutzy people shouldn’t ever be trusted to move heavy objects: I am so scratched & bruised that I look like some kind of domestic violence victim. And my back hurts like you wouldn’t believe.

I really love the apartment, and I only have 2 really small problems, involving phone lines/high-speed Internet stuff, which is no big deal & it’ll get taken care of soon enough. But the movers were really good and didn’t break anything (unlike the last guys I had), so I’m happy about that. One of them was really cute and I think he was definitely flirting with me. He even said something near the end about how he was sad that they were almost done because we wouldn’t be able to hang out anymore. Awww. However, there was one thing he said that I wasn’t quite sure how to interpret, and I need opinions on this:

Cute mover boy: Did you get those pants at Old Navy?
{Side note: I was wearing black yoga pants w/ a gray & white racing stripe down the side. These were the same pants I wore the day before, and the day before that. I don’t get dressed up on Moving Weekend.}
Me: No, I think I got them at the Sports Authority about a thousand years ago.
Cute mover boy: Well, they’ve held up well.

Now, was that last line a comment in response to my “thousand years ago” remark, or was it a reference to my ass, which was holding the pants up? I was totally baffled. I’m pretty sure he was checking out my butt when he made the comment — I mean, honestly, do guys look at a girl’s pants just to try to figure out where she shops? Either way, the flirting/compliments were nice, because I thought I looked grubby & disgusting that day. And after wearing the same outfit for 3 days in a row, I’m sure I had some serious Girl Funk going on. But maybe some guys are into that. Who knows.

Anyway, Teenie survived the move ok, and she seems to like the place so far. Now I’ll just have to wait & see if she starts licking herself bald like she’s done the last several times I’ve moved. I have the vitamin E oil ready just in case she gets blisters again. Poor kitty.

just call me the Happy f'ing Homemaker

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I think I almost killed my apartment last night. In addition to packing, I’m also trying to make sure that the apartment is as clean as humanly possible when I leave so I can get my deposit back. I swept out the garage over the weekend. A couple of days ago, I cleaned the stove & the burners, as well as those little catch-sinks under the burners. Last night I thought I’d tackle the oven. I have a self-cleaning oven, but I’ve never used the self-cleaning feature. I like to think of myself as a reasonably intelligent person, and it seemed fairly logical to me, so I took the can of oven cleaner (which, btw, also cleans up that grimy stuff at the bottom of your bathtub really well — it eats through all kinds of gunk), sprayed the inside of the oven, then turned on the self-cleaner.

I noticed a couple of minutes later that there was a lot of smoke coming through the vent, so I turned on the fan over the stove and disconnected my smoke alarm, since I have the most sensitive smoke alarm in the world & it goes off if I have too many candles lit. Happy that my oven was now cleansing itself away, I went back to watching the episode of “Queer Eye” that I had taped the night before.

A few minutes passed, then I started coughing. I looked into the kitchen, and it was FILLED with smoke. As in, I could no longer see the cabinets and they were only maybe 20 feet away. And the smoke was rapidly filling the rest of the apartment. I ran into the kitchen, felt my way to the oven & turned it off. Then I opened my bedroom window, my front door, and the sliding glass door to let the place air out. That wasn’t really helping too much since the smoke was just hovering, so I grabbed a fan, rigged it up in the kitchen (choking & coughing the whole time) and aimed the fan toward the door so it would blow the smoke outside. I grabbed Teenie & my cell phone, and we sat out on the balcony (the only place I could breathe) while I called my mom to ask her what I should do. Mom, of course, has never had a self-cleaning oven, so she didn’t have a clue.

Since my mom was no help, I called Kris, who asked me “did you read the bottle of oven cleaner to see if you’re supposed to use it on self-cleaning ovens?” Umm… no. Duh. By this point, the apartment was clear even though it still smelled really bad, but I figured at least I wouldn’t die of smoke inhalation, so I went back in & looked at it. Turns out you’re supposed to spray the stuff, wait 2 hours, THEN turn on the self-cleaning feature. Oops.

A few hours later, I went at the goo inside the oven with a washcloth, and it wiped up pretty easily. So I guess it worked. But I’m not using my oven for the rest of my time in this place, because I’m afraid it’ll start smoking & smell weird again. And when I woke up today, I was all congested & could barely breathe. I guess inhaling toxic chemicals will have that effect.

Oh, and speaking of toxic chemicals, this story is fascinating, but it totally messed me up yesterday. I have been unable to get some of these images out of my head.

I am a packing machine.

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The move plans have gotten adjusted slightly. Originally I thought I’d take my time, slowly migrating stuff from my current place to my new place. Then Krissy pointed out that it sucks to feel like you’re living in 2 places at once, and that movers are a lot cheaper during the week than on the weekends. (This is true. The hourly rates are less, and I found a few of them that only have one-hour minimums on weekdays, whereas it’s typically a four-hour minimum on weekends.) So fine. I’m going to haul over as much as I can this weekend, and then I’m taking the day off on Monday, which is when I scheduled the movers. I’m probably going to rent a pickup truck from Home Depot to make this weekend easier, they’re pretty cheap & I should be able to haul almost all of my stuff in just a couple of trips. (The Subaru carries quite a bit, but it would take several more trips if I used it.) Then I’ll really only need the movers for my big things – bed, armoire & futon.

So, I’ve been packing like crazy when I get home from work in the evenings, and I’m getting really good about throwing stuff away. I’m averaging about 2-3 major dumpster trips every day. I’ve also accumulated a whole bunch of stuff that I want to give away to Goodwill. Problem is, a couple of the items are too big to fit in my car. My mom said to call them & they’ll come pick it up. Apparently this policy varies from state to state. I called the Goodwill that’s a couple of miles away from me, and this is an excerpt of the conversation I had with the (very clearly) middle eastern man who answered the phone:

Me: Hi, I have a few things that I’d like to donate to Goodwill, and I need to schedule a pickup.
Goodwill Dude: Goodwill no pickup.
Me: Um, I’m sorry. Did you say that you don’t do pickups?
GD: Yes, yes, Goodwill no pickup.
Me: Well, some of these things won’t fit in my car, so I don’t have any way to get them to you if you don’t come get them.
GD: You come store, much welcome.
Me: Excuse me?
GD: (repeats with emphasis & mild irritation) You come store, much welcome.

I love that last sentence. It makes no sense at all and yet I knew exactly what he meant. It was also funny because he was so clearly annoyed by the fact that I couldn’t understand him (I’m guessing a lot of people don’t, which has got to get frustrating after a while), so it was obvious that I was most certainly NOT “much welcome” by him.

Anyway, after that pleasant little phone chat, I decided that Goodwill can kiss my ass (pardon me), and I called the Salvation Army. They’re coming on Friday. Of course, they wouldn’t tell me exactly what time they’re coming, so I’m just going to leave it all outside with a big “for Salvation Army” note on it. If someone steals it, I really don’t care.

I have fallen in love…

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…with an apartment. On Saturday I woke up at 7:30 a.m. — which, as anyone who knows my sleep patterns will tell you, is VERY out of character for me. I usually sleep until noon on the weekends, but apartment hunting day for me is like Christmas morning for a 5 year-old. I mean, I often go to real estate web sites and look at floor plans just for fun. So I was really, really excited about this.

And as it turns out, I fell in love with the 2nd apartment that I looked at. It’s in Queen Anne, which is my favorite neighborhood near downtown Seattle. It’s full of cool little shops & restaurants, and it’s a very short walk from the Space Needle and Seattle Center. It also happens to be less than a mile from where I’ll be working, so it looks like I’ll be walking to work, which I’m excited about (lord knows I need the exercise). I got an amazing rent special for this place, otherwise there’s no way I would’ve been able to afford it. They included parking for free, which would typically run about $100/month in that neighborhood. And get this: I have my own little private deck, which faces onto a private courtyard (no street traffic noise to worry about), and it has a view of Puget Sound & the Olympic mountains. I’ll be able to watch the fireworks on the 4th of July from my living room. And it has a full-size washer & dryer. Ahhhhh… I’m freaking out, I’m so happy.

After I saw this place, I looked at a couple more just because I had appointments to see them, but my heart was set on the Queen Anne apartment. I went back that afternoon and signed the lease. I get the keys next Saturday, so I can start moving stuff in, and then my actual moving day (meaning the day I get real, honest-to-God movers to haul all of my heavy stuff, and not just my friends who I can bribe with pizza & beer) will be on Saturday, April 17th. I start the new job on Monday the 19th, so I’m timing it just right so I won’t have to take the bus from the eastside to downtown. Not that the bus system around here is bad, it’s actually quite nice, I just don’t want to have to deal with the long commute time.

So last night, Krissy & I had originally planned to go out to celebrate the new-new job, but I was inspired by my recent lease-signing, so instead she came over & helped me clean junk out of my apartment. I had so much crap from my last 2 moves that just got shoved into closets in boxes & has never been unpacked. I figure that if I haven’t needed it in 3 years, odds are pretty good that I never will, and it’s safe to chuck it. But it was good to have Krissy there, since she’s a bit more objective than me & doesn’t have any sentimental attachment to my stuff like I do. Sample conversation:

Me: But my A+ certification book, I can’t throw that away.
Krissy: Are you even A+ certified?
Me: No, I could never finish the book because it put me to sleep. But I might do it someday!
Krissy: And have you ever referenced this book for anything related to your job?
Me: Well, no….
Krissy: TRASH!!
Me: (sigh in resignation and toss it in the hefty bag)

I got better about it after a while, although I have to say that every time we made a trip to the dumpster, I could feel a flutter of a panic attack as soon as we tossed everything in there. I just need to adopt more of a Zen Buddhist mindset: it’s all just “stuff” and I can live without it. And if I can’t, it’s all replaceable.

It has also come to my attention that I am a food hoarder. We took out 2 full hefty bags that was just stuff from the pantry & freezer. I found a can of mandarin oranges that were a generic grocery store brand name… Only they were the grocery store chain in Massachusetts, and I haven’t lived there since 2001. Ick. Time to go.

Oh, one more side note that I found rather amusing: I asked all of my guy friends if they had any workman’s gloves that I could borrow, because I have to clean out my garage, and I know it’s full of cobwebs & dead bugs. I can’t deal with the idea of touching that stuff with my bare hands, but I think I’d be ok with gloves. And wouldn’t you know it, NONE of the guys I know had gloves. Then I asked Krissy. She showed up at my house last night with 2 pairs, one for me & one for her. Awesome. Girls kick ass.

snow!

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I’ve been incredibly lazy since I got back from my trip, so tonight I’m feeling very proud of myself because I partially unpacked my suitcase and loaded the dishwasher. I also just took out the trash, which gave me a reason to check my mailbox, which I haven’t done in the past week since I’ve been gone. It’s been freezing cold here lately, but I have to admit that I was still pretty shocked when I walked outside with my trash tonight & saw that it was snowing. This is Seattle, it never snows here. Oh well, it’s pretty to watch, even though I know it won’t hang around for long.

my migratory existence

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Sorry it’s been a while since I’ve posted. I’ve been preoccupied with several things as of late, most of which I can’t really talk about (combination of fear of jinxing it, and the fact that certain people read this who don’t need to know this information). One of the smaller items that’s been on my mind is that I’m kicking around the idea of moving into Seattle. This is dependent on a few factors which may or may not come to fruition, but I think I like the idea. I’ve lived in the southern & eastern suburbs of the city and have yet to do the real urban living thing, so I think it’d be a cool change. Plus it would be nice for those of you who come to visit me here, so all the cool stuff to do would be within walking distance (or at least a very short cab ride away). And who knows, it might even be cheaper than where I’m living now — although it appears that I will have to sacrifice my washer & dryer, because I can’t seem to find any places within my price range that have that amenity.

So to that end, Scott has bravely volunteered to go apartment hunting with me tomorrow. And once again, this is why I always tell people to write my address in pencil. I’ve lived in this apartment for about 15 months now, which is the longest I’ve lived anywhere since the house I rented with Kris and Kristy/Megan/whoever-would-pay-1/3-the-rent back in college.

Anyway, tonight I’m off to meet up with Scott & some other Microsoft geek boys for a night on the town. Hmm. Should be interesting.

Halloweenies

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Well, the spooks really do come out on Halloween. I went out with Scott and the boys last night, which was pretty interesting. First off, my costume was pretty rockin’, if I do say so myself. I don’t think the false eyelashes are too noticeable in that photo, but they were black & silver… tres dramatique. And the things you can’t see in that photo include: t-shirt that says “I Bite.” on the front, mini-skirt, belly chain, thigh highs (yep, the whole garter belt ensemble, which was not all that uncomfortable except that toward the end of the night, they kept falling down, which was annoying) and knee-high boots. Very fun. I ended up nixing the fangs because they didn’t stay on very well. I couldn’t really talk when I had them on, nevermind eat or drink anything, so that idea got scrapped pretty fast.

I took some pictures of the guys, but this pic of Scott with his friend Brian was the only picture that turned out at all. I think the bar must’ve been too dark, all the other pictures are just black. The funny thing to note about Scott in that particular photo is that he was actually sober at the time, but totally doesn’t look it.

Anyway, I found out the hard way that I’m apparently allergic to false eyelash adhesive. Woke up today & my eyes were swollen & puffy. They’re ok now, but still kind of achey. Probably won’t be doing that again, which sucks because they looked awesome.

I also noticed that this is the 2nd time in my life that I have consumed Jagermeister — technically Jager Bombs, which are Jager shots dropped in Red Bull — surprisingly yummy, kinda like cherry cough syrup with a carbonated kick. However, both times have ended with me crying at some point in the evening. I suppose that could just be a coincidence, but I’m typically a very happy drunk, so I think that possibly that particular beverage is just very, very bad for me.

Anyway, the most notable costumes I can think of from last night were a guy in a giant penis outfit (the balls started around his knees & reached down to his ankles), Roy sans Siegfried (complete with stuffed tiger attached to his back with a big bleeding gash in his neck), and various and sundry scantily clad women, which was a feat in itself because it was 29 degrees outside last night. My personal favorite was the guy who was static electricity — he had dryer sheets & socks stuck randomly to his clothes — but I think that was more because he & his friend (a sailor) were very nice & gave me directions back to Scott’s place when I got lost. (Long story…)

Hope everyone else had a fun Halloween too.