Come Here, Go Away

I’m feeling lonely for some reason. It occurred to me that I felt the same way the last time I moved two years ago. I’m not sure why this would be the case. Being an only child, I’m rarely lonely, and have no problem entertaining myself. For some reason, moving to a new place makes me want people around me.

Myrna stopped by earlier and helped me move a box upstairs (thanks!). I’ve trolled through my whole phonebook on my cell and no one is around. And technically I’m not alone: Ginger the cat is cleaning her back paws underneath the desk as I write this. But for some reason I really want to have someone here with me.

Knowing me, I’d want them to go away as soon as they got here, but still…

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Disappointment of the Day

Steven Page, lead singer of (one of my favorite bands) The Barenaked Ladies, was arrested on cocaine charges recently.

It might sound strange, but this news was very disheartening to me. One of the things I always loved about BNL was that they seemed never to get caught up in the traps of being famous (granted, they only had a few hit songs in the U.S., but those of us who are fans are FANS). I think all but one of them (Steven included) are married with children, and often the families come with them on tour. 

Now, it would seem, that’s not the case. Yes, everyone is innocent until proven guilty, but this evidence looks pretty damning (especially since he posted bail for one of the women he was found with (and the fact that he was found with two women most likely won’t sit well with his wife, who is probably at home with the kids). The marijuana, who cares about: I don’t smoke it — never have — but from everything I’ve read, it should probably be legalized (most likely will happen in the next 10 years). But the cocaine — yikes, that’s some nasty stuff.

Hopefully this will all turn out well for him.

Now, in news more close to home: For some cockamamie reason I got out of bed around 6 a.m. today — it’s usually a struggle for me to get up at 7:30 in order to be at work at 8:30. After taking a shower (hopefully my hair will dry enough that I don’t have to bring out the hair dryer — it’s 73 right now but with the dew point feels like around 80) I packed up a little bit of the bathroom. So I’m making progress, slowly but surely. I’m trying not to think about the fact that I still have not gone through my storage locker downstairs. And not thinking about the fact that it’s supposed to be 90 when I move on Friday.

Procrastination is my middle name

It’s a positively gorgeous day outside, and I really have the best intentions with regard to packing, but I just flippin’ hate doing it so much. If I had more money, I’d hire someone to do it — that’s how much I despise it.

I think I will be okay though. The movers come on the 18th, but I am paid up with rent through the 31st, so all non-essentials that can be toted in my and my Dad’s cars can stay here, as far as I’m concerned. I did finally start going through my bedroom closets, and realized I have far more sets of sheets than I realized. It’s amazing the things you find when you pack.

My new landlord also said if he was finished cleaning the carpets and painting before the 18th, I could start moving some boxes in early. My main fear is running out of boxes. I’ve gotten by so far with taking empty boxes from work, and R has gotten me some boxes from his work as well. I just don’t want buy any if I don’t have to. The cost of the move is covered, but financially I am strapped pretty tightly, so unexpected expenses are not an option.

Tonight R and I are going to Bastille Days downtown. I’ve not been there in years, so it should be fun. It will be a nice little diversion from packing (and from listening to my new neighbor stomp around upstairs). So now, off to pack the bathroom!

Moving News, Holiday Weekend

I’ve finally made more progress on packing. I’ve pretty much finished everything I can do in the living room (TV obviously is still operational, and pics are still on the wall because I want to be able to move a few things that don’t have cat hair all over them). I’ve now moved onto the bedroom.

(Ginger is guarding the boxes from intruders.)

I have had a nice holiday weekend so far. My friend R and I went to South Shore Park in Bay View, which is about two blocks from his apartment, to watch Milwaukee’s lakefront fireworks. It was a beautiful night, though a little on the chilly side. I’d rather have that than be dripping with sweat. The lovely view gave me some opportunities to take photos.

(These are the rocks we sat on by the beach —
the comfort level after my training session of
20 minutes spent on a hard bike seat? About zero.)

R and I like taking “self portraits,” with him taking the pic because his arms are much longer than mine. So we spent our time before the fireworks doing just that.

Yes, the photos were nice at first, but everything pretty much went downhill from here.

(This is R’s “Crazy Serial Killer” face. It works for
him, yes?)

(I look terrible in this one, but it makes me laugh
because R looks like he wants to kill me. This
one made us almost pee our pants when we saw
how it turned out.)

Finally, the fireworks started. They were pretty good, although I was not too impressed by the finale (I guess the economy is hurting every sector, including fireworks displays). We were a ways away from the fireworks themselves, so the majority (well, all) of the pics I took didn’t really turn out too well, but this will give you an idea of what they looked like.

(Those really are fireworks. I swear.)

Friday I went over to my Dad’s house to do laundry and spend the day. We had a traditional midwestern Fourth of July holiday meal of brats, potato salad, and strawberry shortcake.

Today I went to the gym, packed a little (see above) and took a nap. I woke up to see Ginger laying across me on my side, from my shoulder to my hip. She started using my cheek like a scratching post (thank God she doesn’t have claws) and was licking my nose and forehead. I guess it’s no different than early in the morning, when she goes from one side of my bed to the other by walking over me, usually stepping on my boobs so hard I want to scream.

She’s lucky she’s cute.

Praise Jesus! At Least She Was Wearing Underwear.

My life has been pretty dull over the last few days. Lots of non-packing going on. I do have to get my butt in gear this weekend, however.

During my appointment with my personal trainer last night we did kick boxing, with actual boxing gloves. It was a lot of fun, and got quite a bit of tension out that I’ve been feeling the last few days. We worked arms, legs and abs. And I’m not sore today like I thought I would be, so that’s good news.

I have a busy rest of the day ahead of me: news releases and newsletters to write, mail to get sent out to friends, and (ugh) packing.

A Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins With a Single Step…

…and the long job of packing begins with the first boxes.

The items that fill these boxes are, other than my cat, some of my most prized possessions.

I packed six smaller sized boxes tonight (that was the only amount of boxes I could lug home from work under one arm), and I filled them with books because it seems the boxes of books are always the heaviest, so I wanted to make it a little easier on the moving guys. (Who I haven’t called yet. Crap!)

If only I were done packing the books. I still have the bookcase in the picture below to pack, as well as another one off camera.

Originally I had packed some books from one shelf and some from the other identical shelf because their sizes made them good “fits” for the boxes. As I finished I realized what a bad idea this was. I had a feeling Ginger would suddenly look at these lovely, empty bookshelves as if she were seeing them for the first time, and want to climb on them and mark them with her scent. The bookcases aren’t bolted to the wall, so I pictured the horrible scene I might have come home to the following day after she either crushed herself under the bookcase, or crushed something else. So, being the good Mommy I am, I moved the remaining books from one shelf onto the other and disassembled the empty shelf post-haste.

(And she did start to climb on the bottom shelf before I took it apart, but I wasn’t fast enough with the camera to get a picture of her.)

I was, however, able to get this picture of her sitting in her corner looking very confused. I’m sure she’s wondering, “What’s going on, Mom?”

She’ll figure it out real quick as the boxes I pack start to trap us in the apartment, because my place is so small there isn’t really anywhere to go with them.

God I hate packing. I wish I could snap my fingers and everything would be moved over to the new place.