9 posts tagged “moving”
Today's the day I got to test my morning commute. I've been waiting for a while to see how it goes, so I was actually a little excited for this morning to come. In preparation, I filled the car up with gas and dug through a few boxes looking for some CDs I hadn't listened to in a while. Of course, it wasn't until the I stepped out into the garage that I realized I needed to take the other car. The one without a CD player. The one with less than a quarter tank of gas.
I hit the road at six, and last night's storms had left the bluffs that surround our house blanketed in mist. Great white wisps rose from the trees and mingled with the low-hanging clouds, so that as the sun rose, the pink and orange light streaking the sky seemed to stretch into the earth itself. I drove along the Mississippi and for the first thirty miles, I was utterly alone on the highway, free to appreciate the sun-dappled beauty of my new home. Sounds like a situation begging for some Storyhill, but of course, I only have Storyhill on CD, so I had to listen to the Q91 Wacky Weekday Morning Show. That diminished the effect a bit.
It was odd to be on the road for an hour and realize that I was still nowhere near the Twin Cities. On the other hand, if I'm spending two hours to get to work, I'd rather spend it driving along a beautful and near-empty highway here than inching my way over the Edens. Also, one thing I really like about the morning commute is finding little ways to shave off a half a minute here or there. Next time, I can try taking the back road that cuts through cornfields and tiny towns or I can bypass some of the scenery and hop on the freeway. Pretty soon, I'll know the whole region like the back of my hand.
I'll just need to find some cassettes with something other than DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince.
We've moved in and have an internet connection. I tried announcing it two days ago, but Vox was down. I tried announcing it yesterday, but my post disappeared. So, here's hoping third time's the charm.
I still love our house, and I was pleasantly surprised to see that we have our own apple tree. Real, actual apples, too, not just crab apples. I was alos pleasantly surprised that the park nearby has expanded, adding more playground equipment for Aaron to enjoy. The one discovery that I made that I didn't like about the house is that a lot of the rooms don't have a ton of lighting. There's all these great ceiling fans, but none of them have light bulbs on them. We'll need to buy quite a few more lamps someday when we have a bank account again.
We are still living out of boxes, but we're making good progress. Aaron's room, the four-season porch, the upstairs bathroom and the kitchen are pretty much unpacked. Unfortunately, when all is said and done, we'll have enough furniture for about two thirds of the upper level of the house. We are seriously considering working empty boxes into the decor until we can get a few more tables and chairs.
Aaron is settling in pretty well. We're hitting the potty training thing pretty hard now, and it's not a lot of fun for him. Plus, he's so enamored with the playground and the opportunity to take a shower instead of a bath, that it's almost not worth it for the fit he throws when he's done. Other than that, though, he's doing OK. I think he really likes having a train table in his bedroom. Who wouldn't, really?
So in sum, we're moved in. We're making progress. I've decided that July (and maybe part of August) will be my "light blogging" month, since nothing I can do from this point will stop that from happening. So there you go.
I did not sleep very well last night in anticipation of closing on our house today. We woke up early so we could make the hour and a half trip to the walkthrough. Our new house looks a lot different now that it's devoid of furniture and decorations.
It was quite an experience, to walk through this empty house and think, wow, all of this belongs to us now. All of these huge cavernous rooms, meticulously maintained by the previous owners. All of this yard, with its beautiful landscaping and a path to the neighborhood park. All of this empty space, needing to be filled with far more than a three-bedroom apartment's worth of furniture. It's ours now.
That's not to say that there isn't work to be done. We need to put in that tub, we've got some painting to do, and then there's the matter of the unfinished room. I don't foresee a time in the next, say, fifteen years where we won't have a project looming or some kind.
We only got a half hour to look things over before being whisked off to sign my name over and over and over and over and over again. It was like being on an assembly line, except instead of building a Hyundai Elantra, I was promising to give a bunch of near strangers more money than I've ever seen in my life. And honesly, who knows what else? When you're signing six hundred different pages, it's not like there's a lot of time to read the fine print. I'm pretty sure I saw a clause somewhere that said something about being thrown naked into a nest of scorpions if we something something something, but I was too busy concentrating on signing my name in a way that doesn't look like a serial killer to go back and read any more.
And the amount of money! Putting aside the fact that we have to pay a huge amount of money every month from now on for the next thirty years, we had that enormous down payment. Is living in some house really a better way to spend this money than buying thousands upon thousands of PS3s? I'm just not so sure. That's a hell of a lot of polygons. You could eliminate a lot of jaggies with the amount of polygons in a thousand PS3s. I'd like to see a house eliminate a jaggy.
We were listening to Mighty Fairly sing about Superheroes and thinking about how were going to make the best of our investment when we were run off the road and into a ditch.
I swerved to get out of the way of a car that was moving into our lane, and I spun the wheel back so we wouldn't go into the ditch, but the car went into a spin and I no longer had any control over where we were going. We left the road and trampled through weeds in a full tailspin. All I could do was watch it happen.
Jenna told me that the thoughts going through her head were, "We're OK because we're still on the road" and then, "We're not on the road any more, but we're OK because we're not flipping over". The thoughts going through my head were, "Why is this steering wheel not doing what I want it to do?"
In twenty seconds, it was over. Miraculously, we hadn't hit anything, the car was undamaged, we weren't hurt, the other car was fine, and we were able to get back out of the ditch. For a moment, we just looked at each other, and thought, wow, not only do we own a home, we didn't total the car in a horrific accident.
Making house payments seems a lot more difficult when you total your car the day you sign for the house. And even worse if you're injured in an accident. Heck, it's hardly a burden at all.
It has been a really good day.
It is done.
Man, how I wish that was true. I'm quickly discovering that moving is a process that takes years. Each step that we've taken has been a deliberate, repeated reminder that we've got a long way to go. Up until yesterday, we didn't even know where we were going. However, we picked out a house, we bid on a house, and we got a house.
Well, we will. You know, after the inspection. And the bank has approved of the thousands upon thousands of terrifying transactions. And the owners move out. And we discover the six crystal shards and return them the six imprisoned princesses. But then it's house time, baby.
The negotiation process was mercifully quick. I have this paranoia that people are trying to rip me off. I think it comes from being repeatedly ripped off. When we first moved to Chicago, we started to think that it was just normal for people to reach into your pants and pull out as much money as they could grab. Our car insurance went from a six month policy at $350 to $1050. We called to ask if that could possibly be right, but I guess the phone stopped working because all we could hear was a high-pitched giggling noise. We tried to get our phones fixed and in order to get them to work, we had to install new cables, receivers, outlets, cable boxes, telephone poles, a branch office, and a gold-plated swimming pool for a telephone repairman named Hork. We still got a lot of static on the line, but Hork sent us a very nice Christmas card. Every place we went seemed to have a different sales tax (10% downtown, 14% in the suburbs, 113% near our house). It was difficult to see people sailing their yachts around Lake Michigan on a Tuesday morning and wonder how the hell they were getting a way with it, then realizing that we probably financed it when we paid our last gas bill.
When you're dealing with a house, even the smallest discrepencies are a ridiculously large sum of money. Of course, the overall amount of the house is so mind-bendingly huge that you barely notice it. We could have made a counter-counter-counter offer and try to shave a couple thousand dollars off of the price, but we decided -- get this -- that it was just a couple thousand dollars and probably not worth the hassle. It was only later that I realized that you could buy 968 boxes of Cella's (74 boxes in Chicago) for that hassle. That's enough to last at least until we've closed on the house. But we were blinded by the beautiful back yard, the four season porch, the large and stylish kitchen, and we let the offer stand. That's what's so odd about it. We're dealing with a larger amount of money than I've ever owned, seen, or even imagined, but I'm so excited about our new house that I'm not racked with despair about the cost. Racked with worry, yes. But no despair. And I was inconsolable with heartache when I bought Super Monkey Ball a week before it went on sale, so that's a big deal.
So we don't have a house. Our stuff is still in boxes. We don't know what our lives will be like in three months, but we think we know where we'll probably live. So we got a lot done.
Cause for Concern 1: Weather - The temperature had started climbing into the "maybe we should install the air conditioner" zone several days before we were set to move. Of course, we would not install the air conditioners because we would just need to uninstall them, and installing/uninstalling air conditioners is one of those things that can put a real strain on a marriage. Plus, we were overdue for the A/C unit to plummet onto the sidewalk below and seriously injure a litigious family of 8. Soon after worries of heat exhaustion and moving through 90+ degree weather formed in our heads, thunderclouds formed on the horizon. Suddenly, our big concerns were keeping mattresses dry, keeping water out of our carefully packed water glasses, being struck by lightning and/or hail, and not getting pneumonia from the torrential downpour sure to strike.
As it turns out, the weather was great. It was overcast, but the first drops of rain didn't hit until after we locked up the truck. It was not hot. It was not rainy. It did not hail. There was a nice breeze. We probably couldn't have asked for better weather.
Cause for Concern 2: Cicadas - The cicadas were due, man. They'd waited seventeen long years just underneath our yard, and they were scrabbling to emerge right around Thursday night. I was certain that they would have bored into the moving truck's tires, that our kitchen would be crawling with the hideous red-eyed beasts, and that national news coverage would dissuade our crackerjack coalition of movers (I called them Team Awesome) from going anywhere near us. When we opened the door to the moving truck the first time, I felt a twinge of panic that they would spill out the door, crawling everywhere around the driver's seat and steering wheel, singing their high-pitched song and thirsting for human arteries.
There were reports of cicadas ruining people's moves in the far western suburbs, but we hadn't seen or heard or felt a single one by the time Team Awesome arrived. We had them, and it would be much more difficult for them to escape in the night than to decide not to go at all. Even better, the cicadas stayed underground for two more nights. They finally arrived in Rogers Park yesterday, after we had flown the coop.
Cause for Concern 3: Insufficient space - Online, the truck was the right size for a house or apartment with 2 or 3 bedrooms. At the Truck Rental Emporium, it was the right size for 2 or 3 rooms, period. There was no way we would be able to fit all of our crap into that tiny truck. What about our mattress? What about our couch? We couldn't very well tie them to the top of the truck, where they'd be attacked by rain and cicadas! We would need a second truck. Or we'd have to cancel the move and barricade ourselves into our apartment forever, gnashing our teeth at how close we got to actually moving.
Team Awesome included my dad, whose skill at arranging and packing irregularly shaped things into small places rival Alexey Pajitnov. As boxes continued to pour out of the apartment, my dad continued to find places to put them. In the end, we used just about every inch of space that we had, but we didn't have to leave the mattress or couch behind, and we didn't tie anything to the top of a car.
Cause for Concern 4: Insufficient Time - We had a lot of stuff and not a lot of lifters. Plus, we had a toddler running around, whose newfound hobby is taking things out of boxes. Every time I packed a box, it seemed like I hadn't removed anything from the apartment at all. We were kidding ourselves to think that we could get the apartment empty and clean on Saturday. This was a job that would take, at the very least, two months.
Not a challenge for Team Awesome. The van was about 30% packed by Friday night, and the rest went quickly. Sarah, Jordan, and Ron were like some kind of packing and moving machine. Then my family showed up, and stuff drained out of the apartment like juice out of a sippy cup. I had to hide my shame when various family members saw just how dirty things got under our furniture and in the kitchen, but hiding shame was never really a valid cause for concern. The van was filled up by noon on Saturday, and the apartment was whistle-like in its cleanliness. It looked so good, I almost wanted to move back in. Okay, that's not true. I was ready to go.
Cause for Concern 5: The Dissertation - Jenna's dissertation had hit a fair share of snags along the way, and as of Friday morning despite sleepless nights of editing and rewriting, it was not done. We couldn't very well leave Chicago if it wasn't in the hands of her committee, now could we?
Once again, against all odds, the dissertation was finished. Maybe that doesn't sound all that impressive to you. You are wrong. It is unbelievably impressive, and you should be calling your friends right now and saying, "Wow, I just read the most impressing thing ever. The dissertation is done." And your friends will faint from all of the impressiveness. It's that impressive.
All in all, there was really nothing to worry about. It went very smoothly, and I am very grateful to everyone who made it possible. I never thought it would work. I thought we had too many causes for concern, but Team Awesome proved me wrong, and showed just how easy it could be. In fact, it was a little too easy.
And frankly, that concerns me...
Dear Aaron, Today we have to say goodbye to our apartment. It’s been a good home, and your mom and I were very happy to find it, but now it’s time to go and it’s time to find a new house. Goodbye, den. This was the room where Mommy worked and worked on her dissertation, and where Daddy wrote letters when he was looking for a job. You liked this room because you learned how to open and shut the door. Sometimes when you’d open the door, Daddy would be right outside and sometimes he would be hiding. Whenever Daddy was there, he would say Peek-A-Boo. You thought that was pretty funny. The den got to be too crowded. Mommy and Daddy would store all of the extra stuff in this room, and pretty soon the extra stuff took over. It was so crowded that we didn’t want you to play in it anymore. Our new house will be bigger, and we'll have a good place to store our extra stuff, and you can open and shut the doors as much as you want. Goodbye, living room. This is the room where you learned to walk. Mommy and Daddy would sit on either side of you and you would walk back and forth between us. You were very proud of how well you could walk, and we were proud of you too. Our new house will have a living room too, but it will also have a backyard, so you’ll have plenty of places to walk, run, or hop. Maybe we’ll even get a swingset so you have your very own playground. You’ve been walking and running for a long time now, and we can’t wait for you to run around as much as you want. Goodbye, kitchen. This is where we would make your suppers. First we made formula, then jarred baby food, and now you can eat noodles, broccoli, and pizza with us. When you turned one, you ate a piece of birthday cake in your high chair, and it was spread out everywhere. We didn’t have much room in our kitchen. We usually ate our dinners in the living room. Our new house will have a separate dining room so we can all eat around the same table together. Goodbye, Aaron’s room. This was your very own room, and this was the room where Daddy heard you say your first word. When you wanted to come out of your crib, you held up your arms and said "Up." You had a lot of good times in this room, playing with your stuffed puppy and your building blocks. You’ll have your own room in the new house too. And we’ll be able to paint it any color you want. We can decorate it with your favorite pictures, and there will be plenty of room for all of your toys. Pretty soon, you won’t need anyone to pick you up out of your crib, because you’ll have your very own big-boy bed. And maybe, if the house is big enough, you can play with a real live puppy, just like you do when we go to Grandma and Grandpa’s. Goodbye, bathroom. This it the room where you would take your baths. You always have fun splashing in the tub, and you’ve gotten braver and braver about getting your head wet. Our new house will have a big bath for you to splash in. Not only that, but we’re going to work very hard on potty training so you don’t have to wear diapers anymore. Goodbye, Mommy and Daddy’s room. When you were very, very little, you slept in a cradle next to Mommy and Daddy’s bed. You were so little that your cradle was about the size of Daddy’s pillow. You’re getting bigger so fast, and our new house will have a lot more room. Mommy and Daddy’s room will look so much nicer without a pile of laundry that needs to be washed. We’ll have our own laundry machines, so we won’t have to find quarters every time we need to wash clothes. Our new house will have a garage, so you won’t need to ride around the block over and over again looking for a parking place. Our new house will be on a quieter street so we can sleep with the windows open and not hear the police cars and fire engines all night. Our new house will be ours to do what we want, so we can improve it or change it any time we feel like it. Mommy and Daddy have been very excited to buy a house for a long time. We’ve cried a little bit this week. Some of that is because we’ll miss our old house, but mostly we’re just happy that we’re moving someplace wonderful. We can’t wait to move in. Love, Daddy
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Things I am looking for in a new house (last month):
1. Location, location, dishwasher
2. A kitchen that is laid out well and at least somewhat attractive.
3. A large, clean back yard for Aaron to play in.
4. Nearby access to a park.
5. No structural problems, no flooding, nothing that needs to be done before we can even think about living in it.
6. No shared walls, so I can listen to all the Weird Al Yankovic I want without the neighbors complaining/judging me.
7. Windows.
8. A friendly neighborhood that isn't all rentals for college students.
9. A garage, preferably connected to the house, preferably preferably with a garage door opener.
10. Easy access to town, even if there's (gasp!) snow on the ground.
11. No weird features (like a drinking fountain) that I haven't personally installed myself.
12. No weird smells that I haven't personally installed myself.
13. More shared space than just a living room so the train table doesn't have to sit right next to the fireplace.
14. Easy-to-use, convenient outlets, phone hookups, cable hookups, and washer/dryer hookups.
15. At least three bedrooms plus an office, preferably four bedrooms.
16. Doesn't give you the feeling that it could suddenly burst into flames at any time.
17. The only infestations are an infestation of solid workmanship and a slithering nest of charm.
18. A shower that doesn't make you feel dirty on the inside when you use it.
19. No live-in hobos.
20. A helthy mixture of gestalt and je ne c'est quoi.
Things I am looking for in a house (now):
1. House must be able to pack itself when we're ready to move out of it.
If living in Chicago is like a game of chess, (and how could you argue that it's not?) then we're getting to End Game: the part where it's all kings and pawns that you're trying to promote to queen, and the baby pawn stays home from pawn care and all the king and queen's stuff is in boxes or piles in one of the castles. That's why blogging will be spotty (figuratively, because Aaron's home and literally because he likes to touch the computer screen with his dirty fingers).
Jenna and I are trying desperately to figure out where we're going to be living in three weeks. We've both found a near-perfect house, but neither of us can convince the other one that's it worth bidding on. So instead of bidding at all, we're just going to keep looking. In chess, that's called a stalemate.
We went to a party on Saturday and tried to solicit our friends' opinions, but they agreed that both houses were nice and we'd be happy at either one. Needless to say, I was pretty disgusted with them for not making this huge important decision for us. What kind of friend is unwilling to take the blame if we end up regretting our decision about our home any time in the next decade? That's called kibbitzing in chess.
Jenna and I need to think about moving our stuff into storage and looking for a house during June. That would mean basically moving again, but we don't have a choice if we don't have a place to live. We'll just need to live out of suitcases for a while, In chess, that's called the Queen's Gambit.
Fortunately our parents have been a huge help this month. Jenna's parents have been really great in letting us stay with them and watch Aaron while we looked at houses. There is no way we could pull off this move without their help and their delicious breakfasts. My parents are coming in this week to help with packing and keeping an eye on Aaron during the week so I can get work done. It's similar to the chess move called "Getting help from mom and dad."
So I may be up to my eyeballs in stress, but at least I can still beat the hell out of a ridiculous metaphor.
