My mind is extremely disjointed. Surprised I can even compose this post, as my ADD is ratcheting towards Jack Torrance levels.
1. Managing a major PR campaign at work.
2. Moving.
3. Trip to Asia.
What do you call a guy with no arms and no legs? A backpack.
Gulp.
JP, our realtor, called two weeks ago to say our bid on the Short Sale was accepted by the man the bank, and we could close on APRIL 5th.
Awesome! WAIT!? THE FIFTH?
Fifth is a funny word if you really concentrate on pronunciation. But it’s not as bad as twelfth. twelf-i-thuh. twelf-i-thuh. Yeah, there’s no way you can knowingly pronounce it without sounding like a slightly effeminate peanut butter gigolo with a lisp.
Me: “Awesome, thank you JP! I’m, um, sort of going to Japan for two weeks in two weeks. Is that a bad thing?”
JP: “It’s not really the best timing…”
My Nerves: “ohmygodohmygodohmygod.”
My Brain: “Hoooooold. Everyone be cool. Nothing is fucked.”
Me:”But we can work around it, right?”
JP: “There’s a lot of paperwork for you sign, and we probably can’t fax it to Japan.”
Me: “They have faxes! They created faxes!”
JP: “I mean for signatures.”
Brain: “OK! Everyone panic!”
Nerves: “!Arriba! Pew Pew Pew!”
Packing heat, moving down the street, hopping ’round ’cause there’s fucking lava at my feet.
We’re beginning to pack up the apartment.
It’s a bittersweet phase — I moved in here with my best friend, Paul, five years ago. Man, we had some good times; humanized the place by calling it ‘Bartok’ after Balky Bartokomous from ‘Perfect Strangers’.
Started a film society of the same name here, grilled every weekend, and at one point, had it completely decked up in 50’s furniture with a placard on the wall that read ‘1952: Americana Kitsch’. There was enough room to throw a football from the kitchen to the bay windows.
One night, we got TacoBelleatingly drunk and garbage picked a blue recliner from next door. It stayed until the night we watched a CSI episode about a case cracked upon from DNA (semen splatter) on a chair . We put it back in the same spot, confusing the hell out of the original discarder.
Return to Bender
Speaking of fluid swapping, Paul fell madly in love with his now-wife, Nastya, in this very apartment. Paul moved out/in with Nast, got married, and Marti moved in with me…and we’ve created amazing memories since.
But it’s a just place; the people make it a home, and now Marti and I prepare for our next step together.
So, I have to ask, any moving stories out there? Good or Nightmarish? Any fond memories of places left behind? Talk to me!
PS: 0010010000111101011010101010101110001100101010101010001111100101010
The above is binary code for ‘My blog will be taken over for the next two weeks by a group of beautiful reprobates’. Got some good stuff in store for you while I head to Japan.
Be well, Roamers. Adios!
ROAM ABOUT MIKE 
Have a good time in Japan! And yes, they do have fax machines there. They will actually fold your laundry too.
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Thank you, thank you – I’ll bring some sushi back for everyone.
Do they! Excellent. So the all-in-one fax/laundry/toilet is not a myth?
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Moving, moving, movin on up… I know there’s on in their somewhere, if I can just pin it down. When do you leave for Japanhasfaxes?
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Was that the Jefferson’s theme song?
I’m going to LA tomorrow to break up the trip, then off to TokyoLand on Thursday. Weeeee
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Mike I loved that show Perfect Strangers — which one were you? CONGRATS on the house thing — that’s so wonderful. I know what you mean about leaving a place, though — one that’s held so many memories. It is hilarious about that chair — this post, the same. Even when you’re stressed, you bring it. Anway, I like the look of your blog – 😉 – and have safe travels to Japan. Leave some coins or money in a drawer for the next people who come in after to you and will make some good memories. I always do that and it’s good karma. Japan’s all about the feng shui. Feng shui, my friend, it’s all in the feng shui.
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Me too! I think I was Balky…Paul will have to back me up on that.
Thank you thank you. I spent many pain-staking hours on the new header….:)
Huh, I never heard of that, I like it, and I will definitely do so. Feng Shui and KARATE! Keeeyah!
Thanks, Brigitte. Looking forward to reading your post when I get back, or from some internet cafe in Kyoto.
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I GUESS you could be considered Balky. There was the three month stretch of nights that you came home drunk, speaking Mypos(ian?), breaking out in fits of spontaneous Grecian dance while trying to woo the neighbor’s pets. Other than those nights, I don’t really see the connection.
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Yeeeessss! Thank you, Couthin.
Dance of Joy?
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Oh and Ko nee chee wah.
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Buenos Dias
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I never thanked you for giving me my chair back. I can confirm that CSI would have a field day with it.
Denmother
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You’re welcome. One confirmed pregnancy from it, but, paternity tests cleared me and the roomie.
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You are standing tall, on the wings of your dreams. Rise or fall, on the wings of your dreams. It’s your life, it’s your dream and nothing’s gonna stop you now. (Yes I just posted the lyrics to the Perfect Strangers theme song from memory).
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Holy shit…you are AMAZING! I am thoroughly impressed, good form.
You, um, might enjoy this: http://nothingsgonnastopmenow.com
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Balki forever
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My next tattoo
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In Balki’s native language?
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Myposian
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I enjoyed too many things about this post. I’ve never lived in one place more than five years. Corporate relos for us always require two moves, I don’t know why it seems to work out that way. I have some fab moving stories…another time perhaps. Congrats on the (long) short sale!
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Wow, seems pretty brutal to move every five years. Do you dabble in minimalism, or do the Corps relocate you?
Definitely another time, would love to hear your tales.
Thanks, Honie!
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In 46 years, countless moves…brutal, that’s a word for it. Also, adventure. Up-sized, down-sized, feathered nest, empty nest, adult child boomerang back to the nest. You name it. DIY U-Haul, and several corp. moves.
Safe travels!
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Yikes. You should write a Mover’s Guide. I may come to you for moving tips in a couple weeks…as I’ve only moved once, and back then I dabbled in minimalism. No longer.
Thanks!
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Great news on the house, Mike! I’m so glad your offer was accepted.
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Thanks very much, Mike. Do you have a miter saw I can borrow?
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I have a miser saw, but it only cuts crotchety people.
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Patent pending, of course.
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Exactly. Don’t even think about it!!
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I’ve bought a lot of used furniture over the years. Then the big bed bug scare hit Colorado. No problems, thank God! ***scratch*** kidding!
Murphy’s law of vacations. Everything blows up right when you leave! But not here. We’ll take good care of your blog…
Have a blast and remember: Do NOT worry! Beer’s in the back, right?
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Same here, a LOT of refurbished, used furniture. No bed bugs, just semen (kidding).
Awww, thanks, Susie. I don’t trust that Le Clown character though.
Beer’s in the back, got some Avalanche for you.
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What were you thinking??? 🙂
It will be fun to see what everyone comes up with. That’s a lot of guest posts.
Love Avalanche! Thanks Mike!
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Yep, full on guest invasion.
mmmm avalanche beer…
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Gross. Anytime I think about used furniture, hotels, etc, I think about an episode of family guy where Stewie and Brian were looking at a hotel with a black light and he says, “oatmeal? Spittle? Semen?”
I love that you put the chair back.
Good luck with your eleventy billion things. May I suggest some Adderal?
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Haha, I still laugh at Family Guy. Can’t help the sophomoric humor.
In hindsight, the chair was gross, and hypocritical, as I refuse to touch hotel remotes or bedspreads…booze will do that.
How is Adderal? I was thinking some low dose Xanax.
As always, thanks MrsDeBoots
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Adderal is the black light of the hotel bedspread..you see everything completely clearly instead of just a loud ass printed pattern.
Wow. I just amazed myself at my astuteness.
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Wow. That was really profound, and awesome — Adderal’s newest fan.
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Congrats on everything, I think? Short version…my dad died, went to Nevada because my mom decided to move back to PA with me. Sold most stuff, packed and waved to the driver. A week later my basement is full of her boxes. Boyfriend becomes fiancé, we look for a house with a MIL suite or apartment. Find said house, move Mom’s stuff from basement, my stuff from my house, and fiancés stuff…3 houses in to 1. All this in 8 months. Never again. Enjoy your move!
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Holy shit, that sounds like a major logistical nightmare. How did you keep everything organized?
Thanks, Whatson!
(Very sorry to hear about your dad)
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Thanks for the condolences. As for keeping organized, Sharpie. Label the entire contents of a box and the room it will go to in the new place, even if you are on you 100th box and see no end in sight. When you get there, no matter who unloads the truck, they will know where to put each box. If you have time, draw layouts of each room so helpers know where to place furniture if you are busy in another room. Feed and water your helpers. Try to have fun and don’t worry if something gets scratched or broken, it’s just “stuff” after all. Enjoy!
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This is such a great idea. As my lady is the leader of organizing this move, I will suggest to her, then pretend it was my idea. 🙂
Beer and pizza the helpers?
Thanks so much! I will let you know how it goes.
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Since entering the world via my mother’s birth canal, I have lived in 12 different dwellings, averaging one move every 3 years. 12 different bedrooms, 12 different front doors, 12 different positions of the toilet paper roll next to the crapper. I hate moving, but each move presented a great opportunity to throw a lot of crap away and start fresh. I have fond memories of each address, but home is where I live now, with the family, my dog, and my basement meth lab.
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Did not know this about you, Ziggy.
Sounds like a nightmare – want to help us?
How’re meth sales in a skyrocketing market?
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Your reference to Balky Bartokomous has made my entire year.
Have fun, and try not to be one of those tourists who gets captured. While I do think you have a face for the news, I don’t think captivity would suit you.
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Thank you, Couthin Jenny. I heart Balky, and his unplaceable accent.
Yeah, prolonged solitude and gang rape is not my thing. Finger’s crossed it doesn’t happen!
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