moving saga part 4697: the day my patience and sleep ran off to elope and died in a plane crash on the way there.

Yesterday was the Monday from hell. It crawled up from the bowels of the netherworld and slapped my ass with a big fat "have a nice day sucka".

Marathon packing this weekend I had almost everything ready to go for the movers, but of course to get to that point I went to bed in the wee hours on Monday morning, woke up 4 hours later from shitty sleep, went to work at the butt crack of dawn, ran home to meet my movers when they were supposed to be there.....and waited.....and waited some more.

I waited so long my oven looks like it would on the Sears showroom floor. I even swept underneath it. And then moved on to the freezer. Two hours and change later, they showed up. They worked steadily but it still took them two hours. And I used more space than estimated = more bloody money. Just great. By 1:30 I was hot, hungry, and testy. What will fix that? A quick lunch with the sister, brother and nephew. I get out of my car and reach for my wallet while simultaneously dropping my fucking iphone.

Empty purse. Phone on the pavement.

Wallet on counter from paying second payment of move.

Thankfully, my sister saved the day, I hoovered lunch, ran back to work, worked until close, got my hair cut and then had a wonderful dinner and chat with a friend and mentor. After which I had to return to my empty apartment with my freaked out cat to "blow up" my accommodations for the next few nights and make my bed. Do you know how weird it is to be sleeping in an empty 1400 square foot apartment? It's echoy canyon weird.

I'm so nice and shiny now assholes.

And it's all become real that in 2 days I am headed East. Now that my stuff is gone it definitely means no turning back and it's exciting and strange and a little nerve destroying. I'm anxious to begin and sad to leave.

Hello bittersweet.


i need wine and a xanax immediately.

I have not heard from my moving company.



They're supposed to be picking my shit up tomorrow! Needless to say I'm freaking out a little bit. I called, they're supposed to call me back soon but wtf?! This is not what I'm paying more money than my liver is worth on the black market for! I was paying for peace of mind.

So while I finish up this last little bit of packing I need copious amounts of wine to deal with the nervousness in my (currently over sized) gut.

Moving blows giant chunks.

Also? My internet goes dark tomorrow. So if you don't hear from me in a couple weeks there are several possibilities:

1. I murdered someone from this damn moving company and am now waiting to serve 50 to life.

2. I've been crushed under my boxes of crap.

3. I gave up on the drive to Texas and ran away to Canada to drive the ice roads.

4. I internally combusted from all the stress and am in bits on the floor.

5. I drank myself into a coma and am in the fetal position in the corner.

I'm going to vote it's most likely going to be number 5.


oh hump day, you never cease to surprise me.

Yet again.....I was that guy today.

The guy that you invite to a party and they lite their hair on fire.

No really, I lit my hair on fire. Note to self: never put a candle close to your ear to hear the fancy wood wick crackle sounds, especially if you have curly, poofy hair.

Never fear, I still have plenty of hair left.

(p.s. yes, I totally stole this graphic from the internet, but whatevs, it works)


dun dun duunnnn.

The countdowns have begun. As of today I have 1 week! of work left. Hooray! It's going to suck not getting a decent regular paycheck, but it's also going to be amazing. I'm glad to see that chapter of my life coming to an end. I've learned a lot but I'm SO ready to move on. Bring on unemployment!!

Ok, so I'm not really going to be unemployed. But I'd like to entertain the thought that I'm going to lounge around in my jammies (not my undies, or naked, no naked, naked is just...ew.) and each popcorn and watch movies or read all day. That'd be sweat. Instead the few days here I'll be furiously cleaning my empty apartment, I won't have any cable or internet to distract me, and I'll be hanging out with friends and the fam bam. Then, as of the 30th I'll be driving East with a neurotic old cat in the car who will probably get a serious case of explosive shits which will be SUPER fun to clean out of his kennel because I do not want to spend 24 hours in a car that smells like cat turds.

So 1 week of work (fuck yeah y'all!) and like 9 days until I head east. What the fuck! How did this happen so quickly? I felt like I had ages to get stuff done and whammy, it's here now. My movers are coming Monday so I have to finish my packing spree this weekend and start living camping style. I spent some grad gift certificates on an AeroBed so I actually have a place to sleep until my furniture catches up to me.

I'm exhausted already just thinking about it. And excited. But really exhausted.

This Californian is getting closer to being ready for Texas, but I don't think Texas is going to be ready for this California girl! It's going to be hot as balls when I get there though, so that'll be fun for this sweaty kid.


yesterday, i was that kid.

Seven years. That's how long I've worked in this bloody office. Seven years, 5 days a week, 260 work days a year, that's about 1820 days of sitting my cushy ass in a rolly chair multiple times a day.


And then, when I have a mere 9 days left on my time card here, THAT is when I miss the fucking rolling chair and fall flat on my ass knocking a pile of nice, neat, alphabitized and collated papers right on top of my retarded noggin and whacking the back of my head on said runaway rolly chair.  Fuck you chair. That was just mean. I know I crush you daily with my body, but what about all those times we've spun in lazy circles together while I think until I feel like I'm going to puke? Or the moments when we're on the phone and a rock/bounce you? Now, after a almost 2000 days together you do me dirty? Bastard.

To answer your question, yes I'm fine. Oh wait, that wasn't your question was it? That was just the sound of your gasping for breath while you laugh at my desmise. It's cool. You'll get yours.

I was also that kid who you saw slamming on their breaks, veering to the side of the road and jumping out of her car with the mildly screaming heebie jeebies yesterday because a big ol' creepy clear/white spider went scampering across my windshield ON THE INSIDE. *gag* Not cool car. We're supposed to keep the buggers out side or smashed on the grill.

Needless to say, yesterday was more than eventful. And a strange follow up to my super dee duper awesome birthday on Tuesday. It was grand. So grand I didn't go to bed until after midnight and had to be at work at 6:30. Roooooouuugh morning to say the least. And then I get attacked my office furniture AND arachnids?

Thank god there is wine in my fridge.


please stop questioning my gender because it might rub off.

As if getting a plane ticket that had me listed as a Mr. B, 2 years ago wasn't bad enough, I have to put up with constant scammer emails from a one Margot Taylor trying to get me to inhance my male performance. Really? Just no.


Dear Margot Taylor,

Stop sending me Viagra emails. No, I do not need to increase my penial stamina nor do I care if I can buy in BULK! Cheap! From you. I am the proud owner of a vagina. Please hock your little blue pill somewhere else.


I'm adding Ms. Taylor to the list of people that deserve a punch to the twat.


bloody brilliant and funny bitches all in one box of awesome.

If you've ever encountered someone who is a moron?

You should read this.

If you've ever wanted to nut punch someone for being a douche-kaaaabob?

You should read this.

And if you think you're the person that either of these questions pertain to?

You need to commit this shit to memory.

I take absolutely no credit for this awesomeness, but am giving a huge shout out to Noa, because this is the most brilliant and amazing thing I have read in months. She deserves a damn Pulitzer.

In other news, I'd like to just say that I'm so over selling my worldly possessions on craigslist. People are generally so dense they don't understand that regular Joe's work from 8-5 (what? crazy.) So no you cannot come by my house at 11 in the morning. And also? It is not ok to call or text me at mothereffing 11 at night or 6 in the morning. I don't care if I'm awake, it's just plain rude you asshat. And yet I must persevere because I need to get rid of this stuff and I need the money for the move (damn expensive cross country moves).

But it is not my fault if I have to have a few beers before contacting these people back and my texts make no sense.


it might be time to slap out of it.

I feel like I've been eaten by marmots, spit out, trampled by a polar bear, rolled in saw dust and forced to walk from the Arctic to California.

I am so exhausted.

Between the packing, the visiting, the cleaning and purging, the attempts to run at the gym, the yard sale prepping (which don't even get me started on because motherfucker it rained on the ONE day we advertised for our sale and then the next?? sunny as can be....really? no, really?), the baby loves visits, wrapping up work stuff, and the trying to find someone to move my shit for less than what I could sell my kidney for on the black market...there has been little time to sleep.

The good news is that I've settled on a mover. I still have to mortgage my life most likely, but I can deal.

The other pile of good news is that I got rid of a ton of stuff this weekend and have just a few more items to sell and I'll be in good shape.

The last bit of good news is that it's been determined I CAN dismantle my most favoritest piece of furniture, my project table, which means I can take it with me. Sorry movers, eat your Wheaties when you cart my shit in and out and up those stairs because that bitch is beast.

My official acceptance letter came in the mail, which was pretty exciting. And I finally received my financial aid package (oh hello student loans, we meet again) so I can officially pay for this little adventure. Things are starting to fall into place.

If only it wasn't at the expense of my sleep. But all I have to do is hang out with this guy and it's all good.

But you know what's NOT ok? Setting your DVR to record the 2 hour season premier of Ice Road Truckers (stop judging me you asshole), popping your popcorn, finding a cozy spot in bed and tuning in to your recording only to discover that your asshat of a DVR wigged out and only recorded 29 minutes of it! So you have to find when it replays and record it....again....and wait another day to watch it. I am not a patient person. Oh DVR, why are you doing me dirty? Is it because I'm mailing you back to the mothership in a couple weeks? Please don't hate me.

One guess what I'll be doing tonight.