Made it in one piece!

Florida to Virginia in one marathon drive is not that bad on me. The cats are sort of all over the place. Ellie hopped right out of her carrier and started exploring, and she's obviously excited to have two floors and stairs to play on. Randall, not so much but he has sort of relaxed. Lucy, not even remotely slightly. She's hiding still, and looks at me accusingly every time she sees me. My wife is thrilled with the place. Me, not so much. It is a very old home, which to my wife means "awesome!" and to me means "... ugh." The neighborhood is... improving? Derelict homes all over the place, mixed with newly-renovated homes. There's a chicken joint that looks pretty neat though, and it is almost walking distance. I wonder if I can get a decent plate of BBQ here?

The best laid plans...

Still in Florida. Right after the movers left, our new landlord called to inform us that our house would not be ready until Saturday. So here we are, and planned to do half of the drive Friday and the rest on Saturday, which would be easier on the pets for sure. Then the movers called, wanted to know if they could drop our furniture off on Friday. NO... Oh, and now the landlord wants to give us the keys Friday and I guess make us negotiate with the construction crews ourselves. Or something. Who the fuck knows... all I know is that I'll fucking kick the shit out of someone, which means that my wife has to deal with it. So no one has to die.

Happy Birthday to me...

Everything (non-furniture) that I own is in a box, or in a pile next to me on the floor. I've got my laptop and my phone and my guitars and my amp and my toolbox. The Keurig is moving in here the moment this blog entry is finished and I get a cup. I've got my bathroom stuff in a carry-on bag, and a couple of changes of clothing. We bought two twin mattresses to combine into a king size once the beds are on the truck. We're in the process of gathering cats into the old office so they won't be underfoot when the movers come. I hope my wife din't leave anything important outside of my office. The packers were highly efficient. They packed all my food, and even the Capri Sun I bought for the drive tomorrow.

The lawn mower is drained, the tools are packed away, the bathrooms are clean, the only thing left to clean out is the refrigerator and stove, and we've got all day for that. The cable guy is coming this afternoon to take my Internet away... and then I'm off into the wild blue wasteland of real life.

Except for my smartphone. Oh, and wifi hot-spots. :)

We're leaving out of here zero dark-thirty tomorrow morning, so that we can get to the new house in the afternoon and get the keys my wife's paycheck and suchwhat. Friday we'll have Internet, sometime by Monday we'll have our furniture back together. What a thrill, right?

And it is my birthday... I'm not old!

The stuff is getting packed as we speak

Holy crap, friends and far-off neighbors, we're in the final stretch now. The packers are in my house, making stuff disappear into boxes. My wife is at the dog park with Ginger, who would lose her everloving shit if she had to be here for this. Two of the cats are in my old office, which is where I'm sitting right now with my laptop propped on a plastic dog food container and my butt planted on a cat carrier. The third cat is in the guest bedroom, hiding from the packers. He's usually not the scared one, but my wife tried and failed to pick him up a few times, and now he's pissed off.

This is not going to end well for us, I can already tell.

***************************
Well, I got Randall in the room with the other two cats. That's a good sign. Two out of three of them are hiding inside the travel crates, which is also a not-terrible sign either. If that makes them feel safe, then maybe they can tolerate it for 11 hours on Thursday.

The only question is: can I tolerate them? They are NOISY cats!

Moving Time Blues

You know, it shouldn't be this hard. Someone else is packing our stuff and loading it on the truck. Someone else is doing the heavy lifting on both ends of the move. Its just that... well, it is hard to get the motivation to clean and throw away stuff. I don't know why it is so bad, why I feel so overwhelmed.

Maybe it is because the last  few times we moved, it was all within about a 2-mile radius and could be done in stages over a couple of weeks. Maybe it is because this is the first time I've had professional movers touch my stuff. Maybe it is none of those things and I'm just a fucking lazy bastard who doesn't want to deal. Most likely some combination.

The upshot is that people are coming to pack tomorrow at some point, and I need to be able to let them pack without me having to sound like a hoarder being supervised with my unhoarding: "No, pack that. Keep that. Trash that. Pack those two things but not the other three..."

And of course, the guitars and the gun comes with me!

My wife is home...

... and we're out of here on Wednesday. Holy crap, things move fast. Just two months ago, we were talking about school money and riding lawn mowers.

In the history of bad ideas...

... mowing the lawn in the rain is probably in the top few dozen. I didn't even manage to finish more than the front, since it started raining pretty much as soon as I started and is still raining a day later. Maybe that doesn't have anything to do with me being incredibly sick right now, but I'm going to pretend that correlation equals causation just this once. Just a terrible bad cold, I think I should die.

Also, I think I broke my toe. Twice. There's a clumsiness-causing curse in the floor, that usually drives my wife to fall down in the same exact spot every couple of months. Since my wife isn't here, it hit me. I somehow managed to kick the corner of the wall and smash my littlest toe on my left foot while walking. Twice. Think I sprained my right wrist too. Of course, I have a foot brace and a wrist brace. A right-foot and left-wrist brace.

I think I'm going to throw up... here, look at a kitten.

Really?

Look, I hate mowing. HATE!

I'm moving into a house with about 6 feet between houses on either side, and a "lawn" that's maybe 20% or less than the size of my current one. So as far as the miserable mowing/trimming that takes almost 2 hours, I'm almost done with that... except this one last time I need to mow before I move out.

I've been putting it off and putting it off and finally I broke down as decided to do it this morning. I'm leaving next Wednesday or Thursday, so it isn't like there's much time left. I woke up, had breakfast and a cup of coffee(Keurig!!!), and drove down to the gas station one mile away.

So of course it starts raining on the way back from the gas station. Damn.

I'm still going to mow I guess. I'm going to try. I can't imagine going into the weekend having to do this crap.

COFFEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

Yeah, because I'm such a mellow person that I need caffeine to perk me up. HOLY CRAP, THIS IS A TERRIBLE IDEA!!

So what happens is that my old coffee maker is sort of old. We've had it since maybe we got married, give or take a year? So like 6-7 years, and it was sort of a cheap one to begin with. Sort of nasty on the inside, really not worth the effort of cleaning it and packing it up to move. And since my birthday is next week, I suggested to my wife that if her parents were looking to buy me a gift, I'd be happy with a new coffee maker. Nothing fancy, just whatever they can get from Target for $40.

Today I got my coffee maker.

IT IS THE NICEST COFFEE MAKER I'VE EVER HAD!!! CAN YOU TELL THAT I'VE ALREADY HAD A CUP?!?!?! 

Yeah, it is pretty cool and stuff. My mother-in-law is pretty great sometimes... not that she's ever bad, mind you. I've heard the horror stories, but they don't apply here. 

I'm going to go make some tea now. Woo! 

Semi-random stuff

My move is a little over a week away, I'm sort of in a scary holding pattern here, my mind is all over the place, I really need a drink.

I'm really going to have a drink. But first, the randomness!

• My wife LOVES her new job. It is sad that I'm missing her, and sad that she's missing me and the pets, but at least she's not pissed off and stressed every single day. Changing jobs looks like it will be the best thing that could have happened, and that makes the current suckitude bearable. 
• I really like my new amp. Like REALLY like it. I'm surprised, because it was an absolute impulse buy based on fear and a willingness to compromise, and seemed like a complete step down. Turns out, it actually sounds much better than its size or price would suggest. I mean, I'm not thrilled with the speaker but that's a $90 replacement part down the road. I hear that a $12 vacuum tube makes a world of difference. That still puts me right at $500 for the whole thing, and that's not too shabby.
• I hate Gwyneth Paltrow. Seriously, she's just a terrible phony shithead. She's not as bad as pretty much every single Republican and libertarian Ron Paulbot on Earth, but she's right behind them. Just hate hate hate.  
• I can't even begin to deal with politics anymore. The world has gone to shit, the bad guys have won, and I give up. Seriously, only Nixon could go to China, and only Obama could destroy the New Deal and the American middle class. 
• In the meanwhile, I'm going to eat a bunch of chicken salad. This week at least, chicken salad tastes like the perfect expression of cooked poultry. Stuff is just nummy, on bread or crackers.
• My glasses broke. My $250 Oakley prescription frames. I have no idea how. I woke up, and they were on the floor in two pieces. Yeah. Just in time for the move.
• Also just in time... I bought a gun! Yay Joe! Saves me the hassle involved in buying one after the move. The laws are more or less the same, but I'd have to wait until I got my new driver's licence and have proof of residency and all that stuff. Just seemed easier here. 
• Coincidentally, it turns out that my driver's licence here expires right around the time I'm leaving. $50 for a renewal, but I can't very well drive without one. Sucks pretty bad, but what can you do?

OK, that's enough... let me get a couple of beers in me before I start deep-frying chicken wings. Hot oil and drunkiness go together so well!

Finally breathing again

Have you ever been really stressed out? Like crazy insane stressed out, and didn't even really understand how bad it was until it was over? That's what this week has been like for me.

My wife had some... "issues" at her new job. Just a paperwork thing really, but if it hadn't been resolved it could have been a real problem. We're waiting on a bonus check and a moving check and the money is running out and one thing and another thing and what was really a minor speedbump could easily have snowballed into some major issues. Luckily, all of the paperwork has been processed.

As soon as I found out, the sense of relief I felt was pretty amazing. It's like I've been holding my breath for a week, and I've finally allowed myself to exhale. Now things can move forward, now I can move forward and start getting the house together.

BTW, what's the difference between Virginia and Florida? About twenty fucking degrees! It is still summer here, and I'm sure as shit not going to miss this heat.

How hung over am I?

Wow, this is a tough one to answer.

I had a couple of beers last night, and since I felt OK I had a couple more. Not many in the grand scheme of things. I didn't feel a bit drunk last night, because I'm used to drinking stronger ales. Unfortunately, I had a miserable time sleeping last night. So I took a couple of happy pills and went back to bed. And then slept until 10:30 this morning.

I was crazy dehydrated, which is always fun. Pretty soon I found myself running around doing errands, and collapsed for a nap around 3-ish. Woke up around 5 even more dehydrated, with a headache and a nasty feeling in my tummy. I tried to make up for the dehydration, and now my stomach feels like it is a water balloon about to burst. My left eyelid is doing that weird twitching thing it does when I'm tired.

Also, Hall Pass and Your Highness are TERRIBLE movies, do not watch. I watched Wild Target on Netflix streaming and that wasn't half bad at all. Tomorrow is Thor which is exciting because, well... I SAY THEE NAY! 

Time for the heavy drinking!

... it is a terrible idea. Trust me.

I'm home alone, my wife is in Virginia looking at houses for us to move into, and I'm sick. Yep, sick sick sick as a dog. I think I caught something from all those movies I'm getting from Redbox. Who knows where they've been? I do! They are in a machine outside of the pharmacy, where sick people spend lots and lots of time, and I caught something from one of those fuckers! Also, my right ankle is hurting in a new and frightening way. I broke it about 15 years ago, I've still got screws and junk in it, and the normal pain has shifted around to the other side of it. Weird.

Nevertheless. The drinking must commence? Maybe I just feel bad from the stress. I tried last night, drank three beers and went to bed early. If I don't feel any better after 3-4 tonight I'll just stop and go back to bed. I'm immature and crazy and whatever else, but I'm not a fucking idiot. The last thing I need is to be sick and sloppy drunk. One or the other I can handle, but not both. :)

And not for nothing, but if you get a chance you should run down to the Redbox and rent Paul if you're any kind of science fiction fan. It is my new go-to geek movie.

My wife is gone!!!

Off to Virginia to start her new job, my wife is about halfway to Richmond as I'm typing this.

Longtime readers of this blog, and people who know me in general, know what Joe home alone means.

HAMBURGER HELPER!!!!!!!

I know that shit is terrible for you, but it is my comfort food and when I'm missing my wife I'll whip up some Beef Stroganoff-flavored over-processed pasta to drown my sorrow. It is going to be a week or two, so yeah there will be beer and such. But there's also going to be juice in a box, and cans of YooHoo, and mac and cheese.

I freely confess: without my wife here, I am reverting to an 8 year old. Enough blogging, I've got to grab me a Capri Sun and some salt-and-vinegar Pringles.

So I sold my guitar amplifier...

Well, yeah. Not the best thing I've ever done, but I meant well I swear!

I was going to sell my amp anyways. Then my wife lost her job, and got a new job in Virginia, and now we're moving. She's moving tomorrow(*sad*) but I'll be here another week or three. Anyhoo, we needed money because we didn't know how much her last check was going to be and we were thinking maybe $750. We were expecting a $5000 signing bonus when she gets to Virginia but she needed money to travel and buy new clothing and all that stuff. The $700-800 I could get for my amp would certainly help that along, putting her at $6500.

We got good news! Her last check is actually going to be $3200! I figured I wouldn't have to sell my amp, or I could even get a nicer amp!

We got bad news! Her bonus check is taxed at like 40% and is only going to be $3000! The good news and bad news cancelled each other out, and that left me without an amp.

I didn't realize how bad that was going to be for me. I started panicking and got outrageously depressed and decided that I would never ever get another amp again and I might as well just sell my guitars too. Just all sorts of every bit of the general anxiety over the big changes became focused on this one single issue and started to drive me bugfuck.

So we split the difference. I sold the amp, gave my wife half the money and bought a little amp to tide me over in the meanwhile. It is... well, "adorable" isn't a word that usually goes with amps, but in this case? You tell me:

ADORABLE!!!!


Fuck... I'm so gonna miss my wife. 

Moving out

So, my wife and I are leaving Florida, and heading for Virginia. My wife is driving up there next week, and in a few weeks when she's found us a house (*fingers crossed*) I'll be following her up there. I was planning on spending the next few weeks moving, but then a funny thing happened. It turns out that our relocation package actually pays for SOMEONE ELSE TO PACK UP MY SHIT!!!!

It is a little horrifying, because what the hell am I supposed to do for the next few weeks? On the other hand, some of that shit is really heavy, and the last time we moved (ONE MILE AWAY!) I sprained my wrist really badly and was in a brace for a few weeks. Some of the stuff is coming with me, in my car. My guitars don't go in a truck. My computers don't go in a truck. My cats and dog go in our cars. Everything else?

Let someone else deal with it. :)

Again? Another new cell phone? Really?

You know... before my wife and I were married almost 7 years ago, I had never owned a cell phone. Borrowed one once, but never had one of my own. We bought a pair of cheap phones, didn't even have cameras. At the end of that 2-year contract, my wife bought a Motorola Q and I got a Samsung with a rotating screen and the first phone-based 3.2 megapixel camera in America. Well, that was fine. Except my wife hated her phone, so she bought a Razr, and then a KRZR. Then at the end of that contract we got matching Voyager phones. Then, matching Droid phones. Then my wife got a Blackberry from work. Then she got a Droid X from work. Then I bought a Thunderbolt and my Droid broke. Then my wife swapped her Droid X for a Blackberry, and then she got fired/resigned, and she took my Thunderbolt.

Seven years, two people, 14 phones.

And now, #15!!!! Yay?

Let's say hello to the Droid Charge!

I'm OK with it, but I'm not maybe as thrilled as I should be. Law of diminishing returns and all that. The next series of phones is just a month away, but how much better can they really be? Faster processing of my email? Quicker start-up times? I'm OK with the current generation, which is already almost science fiction level.