Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Moving is Sucksville

So I have been (unfortunately) moving for the last 7 months of my life. It has seriously been the longest, stupidest, most hellish move ever known to man. Basically, I graduated college but didn't want to face the reality of real life, so I just decided that I would stretch moving out of my apartment for as long as humanly possible. I just started taking car-loads of random stuff with me every time I went home. I drive a 2-door Honda Accord. Not a whole lot of progress was made this way.

I know you probably don't want to read about me moving and I know I don't really want to write about the absolute nightmare that constituted the whole moving experience, and I would MUCH rather just post pictures of my dog on here. But, unfortunately, this can't just be a blog about my dog. I have big dreams for this blog involving an eventual book deal and a Hollywood movie based entirely on my life story, and I just don't think that I can achieve those dreams with Cyrus as the central focus of this blog. He makes a nice topic for a post now and then, but he's really not destined for stardom, you know what I mean?

I finally finished up moving about a month and a half ago. FINALLY got everything into the new house. And I was ultrahappy about the way it all looked. A lot of blood, sweat, tears, heartache, cramps, meth tylenol to fix this house up to how I wanted it. Lots of browns, greens, blues, earth tones. I'm super cool like that. The ONLY thing about the house that I wasn't happy with was the god. forsaken. couch.

This couch was there when I moved into the house, and I didn't have a couch, so this couch was better than no couch. ANY couch is better than no couch, and I was happy to have something. Well, I DID have a couch seeing as my parents were getting rid of theirs and were going to let me have their old one, which would have been greattttt but my little sister somehow finagled her way into taking that one with her into her new college apartment. So this was now my couch. It is black naugahyde....... GENUINE naugahyde, as my father would so lovingly phrase it. It wasn't the worst couch ever to look at. Just to sit on.

 ^^couch in background. (see how clever I am? this is really just a picture of my dog, with the couch cleverly positioned in the background. HA! tricked ya.)^^

^^note how THIN those cushions are. (and another pic of my dog.)^^

UPDATE! Last night I got a NEW FANCYPANTS COUCH! It's red and super awesome, and Cyrus and Cody basically died with excitement when it was finally in the house. Cody and I had to move it alone and this puppy is ginormous. Seriously, I thought I was going to die, but it was still nothing in comparison to the armoire that we moved back in August that weighed double my car. AND IT LOOKS GREAT!!!! HERE'S A PIC!!

^^probably could've taken a better pic^^

Anyway, back to the disaster that was moving. It was the pits because at the same time I was moving, Cody was also moving out of his apartment, which meant double moving bullshit horrors to deal with. We seriously had the worst luck ever. Like, the day that we decided we absolutely positively 100% for sure had to move our big stuff like the beds, dressers, desks, futons, and our other superexpensive nice furniture, we borrowed my dads trailer. We were all hyped up that we were going to do it ourselves. My dad offered to help like 900 times but we were all no way, we got this, we're adults now.

Dad: Are you SURE you don't need my help??
Me&Cody: No no no no no no no, we can do it, seriously, we have it under control.
Dad: *looking skeptical* ..........are you SURE?
Dad: ...............

So the big day came, and I (in true Marlee fashion) had constructed a tight itinerary and timeline for the 24 hours before the move in order to make things run more smoothly. Clearly, this was a total waste of time and turned out to be a huge disaster. I made sure I was 110% packed up the night before (it was more like 85% packed up, after this trip I still had to make 3 more to get the rest of the shit out of there....) and I made Cody do the same. We decided that the night before the big move, we'd make sure all of our furniture was broken down and ready to go straight onto the trailer in the morning. This would save us TIME AND ENERGY! So we broke down my bed, which was a total disaster, and left the pieces just lying around my room. Of course, my apartment had come furnished with this cheapo army-style hobo cot with a plastic mattress that I *shockingly* opted not to use, so when I moved in, I had just stored all that jazz underneath my real bed. Needless to say, it was disgusting. We lifted up my mattress to find dust/spiderweb/mold/pizza/deadstrippers down there. It was gross, so I did the mature thing and left it to deal with at a later date. We went over to Cody's apartment to start breaking his shit down, but by that point I was tired and wanted beer, so we just didn't do anything and instead we drank beer.

Marlee: I'm tired.
Cody: .....what about the schedule?
Marlee: I want beer.
Cody: .........sooooo we're not breaking down my stuff??
Marlee: We'll be fine, we'll do it tomorrow, trust me we'll have plenty of time, dont worry about it, it's under control. Need beer.
Cody: ....................

Of course, the next morning did not pan out as I had planned. We received a text the night before (halfway through said case of beer) from my roommate asking for us to bring the furniture that Cody was borrowing from her to my place in the morning. Of course, this was not something that I had factored into our TIGHT schedule. This presented a problem because 1) that shit is heavy and I am basically useless when it comes to manual labor, 2) we hadn't planned on having to make an extra trip to my apartment and I had planned out EXACTLY which items to load first based on the fact that we'd be at my apartment SECOND, and 3) we were hungover from the beer I made us drink the night before. The plan had been to wake up at 8, load Cody's stuff onto the trailer, head over to my place and load my shit onto the trailer, and hit the road. This would be perfect because we were going to be unloading my shit first when we got back to Greenville, so it needed to go on the trailer last. FAIL

It was a nightmare, of course. The dresser he had borrowed weighed 500 lbs, and we (I) almost died carrying it outside. I pride myself in my upper body strength, so as you can imagine I was a HUGE asset in helping him move this puppy. I cried helped him carry it all the way down the stairs.

On my timeline, I had imagined us loading the trailer in MAX 2 hours (1 hour at each apartment.) It took 4.5 hours total. A lot of lifting and moving and squatting and screaming and crying and almost killing each other, but around lunchtime we were finally ready to hit the road. I had a superconcerned BAD feeling about the beds/mattresses flying off the trailer due to the *questionable* bungee-job we had done.

..........I AM ALWAYS RIGHT. ALWAYS. Especially when it comes to having bad feelings about things. If I ever have a bad feeling about something, it ALWAYS proves itself to be true eventually. I'm not just saying that either, it's science.

In this case, I guess I was really only partially right, because the mattresses did not actually fly off the trailer as we were driving down the road. BUT, this happened, and it sucked equally as bad.

^^the pits^^

^^2.5 hours on the side of the interstate^^


Turns out, we are not adults. We cannot be trusted to move on our own. We cannot be trusted with responsibility of any kind. Also, whenever anything happens to us, it doesn't just KIND OF suck, it superextraawful sucks, like here. This isn't just a flat tire, this tire effing exploded as we were driving down the road. No lie. I was behind it, on the phone with Cody when it happened.

Marlee: I'm just really worried that the mattresses are going to fly off.
Cody: They are not. going. to. fly. off.
Marlee: Hmm, that's weird. Your tire looks kind of flat.
Cody: ............kind of? 
Marlee: Hmm, yeah, definitely flat.
Cody: ...........what??
Marlee: *piece of tire hits windshield* yeah your tire is exploding

Then, this conversation:

Marlee: Hey, dad. Remember when I told you that it was totally fine and we didn't need your help and not to worry cause we totally had this shit on lockdown?
Dad: *disappointment*

It should be noted that my father did indeed come through in the end, as he always does, and rescued us from the side of the road. We said that we were supertriple sorry and that we wouldn't need him for anything else for the rest of the move, and made sure to make it very clear that this situation was totally out of our control and that clearly these tires needed to be changed anyway. We then proceeded to get caught in a torrential downpour 2 days later while trying to move a sofa, and had to have my father come meet us at a gas station to bring the boat-cover and tarps to block the rain. Then, Cody's truck died and dad had to jump it.

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