The Big Bad Move

Well, I'm here.

I still need to go back to the old place and give it a good scrubdown and clear up some miscellaneous stuff in the closet and bathroom...but I'm basically out, moved in, and well on my way in decorating.

Mom and my brother came up from SD to help, and Mom will be staying for the week. She just about had a conniption fit when she saw the place (or at least slid into flashbacks), as its '50s style is one big throwback to her childhood. She loved it. "It's going to be so cute!"

"It already is cute."

And it is. The place has character already. I'm sure down the line I'll bitch and moan about no dishwasher or disposal, but the location, the layout, and the price are just right. Very happy with it thus far, two days in. Today I made a pot of coffee and...um...drank it all (hence the jitters), and the scent of my Fresh N Easy Morning Roast wafted through the entire place. Perfect.

I ended up taking the present nightstand and bookcase with me, though I'd just about convinced myself not to. However...I had boxes upon boxes of books that would just sit until I put together a case, so I brought it along just to have somewhere to stash them.

The Contractor arrived shortly after Mother and Brother. Mother worked on the kitchen, which I'd largely ignored (I don't need no plates - what about my books?!) and The Contractor delegated the rest of it. He and Brother manhandled the furniture out of the apartment; the only hiccup was Cleveland, my couch.

Cleveland is a large couch; it has a life-sucking force.

(The companion chair is called Quagmire.)

(No, I haven't named the rest of my furniture.)

"How did you guys get this in here?" he asked, after I smugly informed him that B and I had wedged it in all by ourselves.

I texted B to ask.

"With my brute strength," she replied. "And I think we twisted and flipped it."

I carried down just about everything else, boxed and not, and as a result my knees are in full-on revolt (50+ flights of stairs will do that...yeah, I have a lot of stuff).

Fridge and cable guy came at the same time and basically stepped on each other.

And yet, somehow, everything is now in place. After everything was basically in order, The Contractor studied the Great Leaning Bookcase. "Did you know none of the screws are fully in?" he asked.

"Um," I said.

He whipped out his power drill (I guess there's no way to not make that sound filthy) and properly made adjustments. The bookcase still leans, but now it's sturdy. It has survived four moves. I am amazed.

B stopped by later that night to check the place out, and saw the bookcase face to face. "Is that our bookcase?" she asked, perhaps recalling that warm summer night in 2006 when we clunked the thing together.

"Yep," I said.

She tilted her head. "How is that thing still together?"

"Tape."

Apparently, everything we built was a bit off. The Contractor also straightened out the floor lamp we put together, probably on the same night. "Who do I yell at about the bad threading?" he asked, looking directly at me and knowing exactly who threaded the thing badly.

The only threading I really know anything about has to do with eyebrows...I suspect he wasn't referencing that.

I can't even plead womanly mechanical ineptitude, as my father can't put stuff together, either. So I just smiled sweetly and was glad he'd come over.

Mother is staying with me for a few days, presumably getting the place in order. Tonight I get the enviable task of clearing out the old fridge and maybe my old closet, too.

Fun fun fun.

Anyway, I have a lovely new place and I am loving it so far.