A Month of Change

We are pretty settled into life, even if most of our stuff has yet to be moved. Trying to keep up three locations is ridiculously difficult. I am scheduling meetings in the city while applying for jobs in both Mammoth and Carson City and attempting to spend time with the hubby. We are very lucky to have the support of friends and family as we navigate the constant change we are experiencing.

We had a wonderful anniversary weekend in Tahoe where we pretty much did nothing. I never thought doing nothing could be so good, but after all the upheaval it was very much worth it. Of course, it was strange to walk downstairs in the hotel and find out the convention in town was the California Coroner's Association. But we made it through our first year. Jobs, lost jobs, 2 moves and hopefully on the path to a little bit of settling...but life always throws a curveball or two, right?

Then it was back down to the city for back to back meetings and packing. I was able to attend a going away Thanksgiving for Brett, Stace and Kyla. They are off to Morocco and I can't wait to visit. It was great getting to hang out and drink some wine. Then, last meeting on the way out of town was at Sony. Imagine driving your truck, filled with boxes onto the lot. Furniture, boxes and junk were spilling over the edge. The gate guard thought I was dropping stuff off for production when I had to explain it was merely my stuff. He definitely looked at me with a puzzled expression, wondering if I was homeless I am sure.

Met the hubby in Mammoth for some wooding. I said that to my Dad and he thought it was a cute term for hiking. No, this means pulling out chainsaws, going into the woods and cutting apart wood for winter heat. Then I think my Dad just thought I was crazy. John and Cheree came to help us with the second day of wooding. We averted dropping the truck down a large embankment due to John's calm demeanor, got the truck and trailer out of the sand with lots of back and forth rocking and at the end of the day headed into town for yummy Mexican food.

I was suddenly reminded of what it is like to live in a small town as we ran into two old friends back to back. It was nice to see friendly faces again. Needless to say...got all the work done and now it is back to work! Hopefully things will calm down over the next few weeks and one of the jobs I want will pan out. Sorry I don't have anything particularly funny to talk about, but I am sure I will find something in the very near future.....

Barbados, Monkeys and Moving....

So, my jumping back on the horse did not work exactly as planned. In my defense I ended up on a last minute trip to Barbados limiting my computer time and leaving me feeling inspired yet unable to log in, a tragedy, really, I swear. We swam, played in the water, fed fish and monkeys, pet turtles and in general just relaxed. My sister and I cleaned up at poker, her because she kept getting major cards on the River, me because I lucked out and called my brother on his many, many bluffs. But after a week of wonderful vacation time, reality came crashing down prior to leaving the adorable little island.

My family and I spent all day in the airport to have the powers that be FINALLY cancel the flight and a mere 24 hours later I made it home. While we waited I temporarily thought I had been transported to a psych hospital as one lady had a full on melt down complete with screaming as though the entire world was conspiring against her to keep her from getting back to the States. I would have felt a little bad about it but right before the announcement was made she had confessed she had missed her flight the day previous due to getting to the airport late, thereby her being stuck with us was more her own doing than anything else. After speeding through the maze of the Miami airport, breezing through customs after wisely avoiding the lady who chose to go into the US Passports only line when she clearly had a passport from another country (it was red not blue), and making it back through security and to my gate as they were boarding section 2. Bottom line, I made it home.

I was happy to be back in order to catch up with all the goings ons of my husband while I had been away. Within minutes of reuniting he got the phone call we have been waiting for. A job offer that does not require us moving clear across the country. Very exciting.

Being a girl, we are used to are varying emotions. My first emotion was excitement. A little sadness because while I didn't want to move across the country, I did love the idea of spending some quality time with the fam, but not sure that is worth uprooting our lives twice in two years. I quickly jumped on the Mammoth/Tahoe/Carson bandwagon and started thinking about all the things that needed to be done. Suddenly the move was reality, not just an abstract idea as it had been for the past few months. Within minutes I was in tears. Chris stood there looking utterly baffled. He was stressed about moving but experiencing so much relief from staying on the left coast that as far as he was concerned there was absolutely noting to be sad about. I, on the other hand, was experiencing the 'we are really doing this and I am leaving all my friends behind' moment.

I am a logical person. I know this response makes zero sense given the fact we will be a short drive or flight away versus living all the way in Tampa. I was going to leave the same people if I had to move there. Chris did his best to comfort me but could not shake the confusion. He went straight to the "solve the problem" mode, which entails asking such ludicrous questions such as "should we not move?" "do you want me to turn down the job?" and "why are you crying?" We made it quickly past the tears phase and into the acceptance phase. My rational head returned and I was able to see all the positives. The happy reasons this is all a great thing, including getting to ski all winter, hike, bike and camp again and most of all, with my new plan, save a little money for a year or so. That's a whole other conversation....

The Dreaded Name Change

There are probably very few men on the planet who can understand the torture of deciding what to do with your name once married. For many women this is a simple issue, one that does not even merit a second thought. For other women, like myself, it is an identity thing that required reflection and careful choosing. Lucky for me, I come from a multi-divorced family so very few people I associate with have my last name at all. Changing my name to reflect oneness with my new husband was an easy choice despite the fact it is better suited for a boy and not all attractive for a girl...Hacker. It does lend itself to a good fantasy football team name though, so I will focus on the positive.

Making the choice was the easy part and I even get to decide how to hyphenate because I can do whatever I want in the age of the "Equality of Names Act 2007," thank you California. This actually hugely worked to my benefit as I did not have to become a Witt Hacker and could do it the other way around. Now begins the arduous process of contacting every credit card company, every social networking site, changing the cell phone voicemail, the home voicemail, the email, the list goes on and on and on. Now all of these freaking things have different rules as to how you can change your name. For some you must wait until you have a photo ID, for others show your marriage certificate and for others still just write a letter. Believe it or not, the ones that I still have yet to change are the ones that require I write a letter. What is this, the prairie days? All the things keeping us connected and saving us time make any small change to your life a monumental undertaking.

In thinking ahead I decided to do everything at once. We were planning on moving, so I would do my big name change in conjunction with my, "guess what we moved announcement." Instead of making things simple, this apparently sends up multiple red flags of massive identity theft threats. Next thing you know all my alerts are letting me know someone must be stealing my name as we speak, not only the new one but the old one too. Sorting through that stack of mail took eons. Needless to say I think I am pretty close to fully transitioning to the Hacker-Witt of it all and I do think it was worth it.

Moving Trucks and Space Issues

How is it that a room full of furniture looks bigger than an empty room? I am loving this concept even though I do not understand it. Turns out we have even more room in our new place than we thought we would..great news! Getting here was a bit more of an adventure. Priorities of men and women vary slightly causing the inevitable "you are annoying me but I don't want to ruin this fun moment so I am going to grin and bear it" portion of your new, shared life.

We had a wonderful last evening in our old apartment. My uncle came by to purchase a TV and we all ate Costco pizza on the floor (I forgot how good that pizza is, I mean not NYC, but still yummy.) Then Dawn and Mike came by and we went to the Surly Goat for a few drinks. Just what you need, find a really cool bar just a few blocks away the day before you move...C'est la Vie, there will be cool bars in Long Beach. Of course 5:45 a.m. rolls around far too quickly as the movers arrive slightly after 6am.

Now Dawn had told me the night before that hiring movers was the best money she ever spent. After watching them load our apartment in record time with very little lifting on my part I 100% agree with this statement. AMAZING and left plenty of energy for the unpacking on the other end. Here's where the issue with priority comes in, you see before we even had the movers scheduled, Chris had scheduled our cable appointment. The cable guy was coming between 1 and 4 to set up the cable. It was now noon, we had no TV's set up nor any stands on which to put the TV. An hour previous I had kindly, gently suggested Chris start putting the TV stand together. We have just gotten a new TV (thank you wedding money) the size of a movie screen to put in the living room. I am a TV junky, but I can honestly say I never in my life expected to own a TV almost as wide as Gretchen's mom is tall. It seems a little ludicrous but we got a good deal and it makes him happy.

Of course my suggestions went ignored as we belabored where the desks were really going to go. This was an important decision as I made it clear once my oversized, massively heavy, armoire desk was placed it was never going to move again without the hiring of many men or purchasing our own crane. It was decided...so now he's going to put the stand together, right? Nope, now we are going through the drawers and making sure the shelves in the closet are cool.

"Chris, it's getting late, wanna put the stand together? I will help."

"Okay." I think the extent of my helping was deciding what side of the box we should open as the insides were almost entirely glass. Shockingly, we managed to pull out all the pieces without breaking anything. The look on my husband's face was priceless.

"What's wrong?"

"I thought it came in three pieces."

"Why did you think that?"

"It looked like that on the box."

"Okay, so???"

"I don't know how I am going to get this together in time. I'll start doing it, you start unwrapping the TV."

It is my turn to look at him incredulous. Seriously? I can lift things. I am quite strong for a girl, heck for a person, but I was in no way dumb enough to think it was a good idea for me to be in charge of a television only slightly shorter than myself. The bulky aspect alone makes it a bad idea. My head begins swirling like the eyeballs do on a classic WB cartoon as I have images of me slicing the TV screen or pulling too hard and the top pops off. Terrified. But pride also prevented me from saying no.

Needless to say we got the TV set up by the time the cable guy was done with the other rooms, though I felt judged from the moment the cable guy arrived until the time he left. I actually think he was a bit annoyed we managed to get the TV up in time. I think he was hoping he could leave before we finished so we would have to have another service call. With a little team work we made it....then I opened a beer.

You Sold it for What?

Garage sale day! Here we are, purging are belongings by putting them out on the side of the road in the hopes someone will want to pay money for our junk. Initially, getting Chris to focus on finding things to sell seemed near impossible. But he got up early in the morning to help me lug all my things out to the road and drive me around to put up signs. Of course there were people arriving way before the posted time, I had placed ads, and we were still trying to set things up. Even before we begin, Chris is practically giving things away.

I have learned from my friend Dawn that it is best not to put prices on things but just come up with a price on the day. I did not realize this was going to mean my husband would try to sell everything I own for a quarter. I say that but it seems like he has two internal price points. It is either 20 dollars or 25 cents. I am not sure where the logic comes in with that, but it was how it was.

Things are going well, things are selling it is moving along. But as Chris watches things he thought would never sell make a bit of money, he suddenly decides to start going through his things, you know, the thing I asked him to do three weeks ago? Now instead of having someone outside to help me, he is constantly in the house digging for more things to sell. fine, I can handle it until I see him drag out the chair his grandfather carved by hand.

"You're bringing that out just to sit on, right?" I say as a leading question as to imply the appropriate response.

"I was just going to see what someone offered for it."

"Then take it back in."

"Why can't we see? It isn't very comfortable."

"We can get new cushions. I cannot get a new husband after your father kills you because we are supposed to be taking care of that chair. If you don't want it in our new place, then I suggest you give it back to you father, cause we aren't selling it." How am I more sentimental about a chair made by a man who died before I was in the picture?

"We can just try. You are selling the ornaments."

That's his defense? Seriously? The ornaments he was referring to were my ex-boyfriend's Christmas ornaments. We had stayed friends for quite awhile but then we lost touch. I had tried to contact the man a number of times to return his ornaments. A collection of Christmas Tree bobbles from the year of his birth onward. It wasn't my fault he wouldn't return phone calls. After many years of storing them, I decided I wasn't moving them so I put them out in the hopes they found a good home.

"Not the same. I no longer know Toby, you still know father, you like your father. You call your dad and get permission and then you can try." This is followed by an eye roll and the phone being whipped out to place the call. At which time he discovered I was correct and his father would rather have the chair back than have us sell it to some stranger. Like that took a rocket scientist to figure out! I have now been guilted into putting the ornaments back on our doorstep because I was feeling guilty about selling them. I still didn't want to move them! What a waste of space.

As the garage sale begins to wind down, I start selling everything for a quarter. We get rid of almost everything, or so I think. Most of the end things went to a guy who was shopping but driving a motorcycle. With a bit of help from lots of duct tape we managed to get everything attached to his saddlebags, frame, and back pack. I am not sure what he was going to do with all that junk, but as he drove off I found myself very concerned with whether or not he could even turn a corner.

We start loading the truck with everything to go to Goodwill and I realize I still have a ton of stuff left. If I had the energy I might have a second sale the next day, but it doesn't seem worth it. There is one wicker basket left out front that some lady is supposed to come back for, so we bring down the driveway and put it on our step. Needless to say, she doesn't come back, but surprisingly the next morning Chris walks out to find 2 women shoving it in their car. He confronts the offenders with the fact they are "stealing" and they claim to have thought it was "junk." I might believe that if it was still sitting on the street, but it was on our doorstep and we live in the back apartment. Do you go and take things off people's doorsteps? At that point I realized all the Christmas ornaments I was trying to figure out what to do with were gone. Someone had literally stolen Christmas from our front door. I ended up selling the wicker basket to the thieves and counting my blessings that the Christmas ornaments had sorted themselves out. If Toby ever calls I can honestly say they were stolen though I am not sure he would believe it even though it is true.

The Friends, the Packing, and the Football

I have found the perfect solution to packing dullness: be unable to say "no" to any of your friends when they want to drop by. Your living room becomes a wreck/disaster filled with people you enjoy drinking beer and helping you mock your own things. It makes it much easier to part with the random deck of cards you still have despite the fact you are pretty sure it is only three quarters full. You will inevitably find photos and papers to reminise over and they will keep you going when you would have long since given up.

Now I am on a bit of a schedule. While technically I have a month to pack, I am leaving for a week to go to a friend's wedding...well, I am in the wedding, and I would like to have a garage sale a week before we move. Thereby I have decided I have to pack at least one box a day between now and when I leave. Seems simple enough. First, I find my 1994 Acer laptop...yeah, that's right, I am cool, I had a laptop in 1994. It had a whopping 64MB of memory and 32 MB of RAM...and a FLOPPY drive! Why do I still have this? I don't know. Has it made it to the trash? Not yet.

The nice things about having friends is you start to hand out things that you don't really want to get rid of but if it goes to a home not far away it doesn't seem like you are getting rid of it. Win/win. So the dolphin statue has found a home and some books...and then Michael Vick ends up taken out of the game and cheering errupts. Ben shows up with food and we drink some beer....and it becomes increasingly easier to throw away files and papers and anything that I just don't feel like packing.

As if the computer was not enough to mock, then you find multiple rolls of undeveloped film. That's right, film. While I can't imagine I ever took any photos I would be terribly embarrassed by the thought of developing questionable film...what's on it? Who's on it? When's it from? When's the last time I used a FILM camera? I must admit I am curious and terrified all in the same breath.

The Move...

Married life has been blissfully serene so far. While we didn't get to go on our honeymoon right away, I formed a sort of peace with the idea as it meant I got to begin playing house right away and what could be bad about that? Unfortunately the reality of what could be bad about that came crashing in pretty quickly...MOVING.

My new husband has a job not close to my/our current neighborhood. The commute was beginning to wear thin and with all the warnings of "make things simple" during the beginning of your marriage, this seemed like a bad combination. For example, the day we were leaving town to head up to our wedding (we live in the city, were married in the mountains) he worked his first 7pm to 7am shift. Not only did it take him 2 1/2 hours to get to work, it took him 3 hours to get home. To say he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown a few days before our wedding is an understatement. It was at that moment I decided apartment hunting was of top priority upon our return.

Begin apartment hunting for the first time in seven years and enter all the emotions of moving. I love my place, I don't want to leave, but close quarters leads to many things such as me thinking, if my husband talks to me one more time when I am writing I am going to rip his head off. Literally tripping over each other every time we head to the kitchen is not a fun way to spend a day. The pile of presents stacked in corner of our one bedroom apartment is pressed up against the heater, so we should move before it gets cold or we are the definition of a fire hazard.

Apartment hunting in the greater Los Angeles area is not a fun time. Let's not mention how far apart everything is in this city, let's just add that technically my husband would love for us to move to Orange County. While to many this might not sound like a big problem, I will liken it to him telling me we are moving to Oklahoma or a Manhattan girl being told she's going to Long Island. No matter how you cut it, I am a city girl. While I love the mountains, if we are moving to somewhere it should either be far out of civilization like Mammoth or Yellowstone or a city, NOT a suburb, I HATE the uniformity of suburbs, they just aren't for me. I love to visit them. I love my friends who live in them. But I don't choose to live in there. Full country or full city, no middle ground, make a choice.

So after the torturous task of narrowing down the options, we get to go search together on Thursday. I bring reinforcements in the form of our good friend Craig as he brings a guy perspective but also doesn't want to see me move to Orange County. Two guys performing a task they aren't fond of...I really didn't think this through. After the first apartment not only being rather blah I must endure the guys continually talking about how they have no idea if there is really enough room for our pet monkey in the place and what is the pet deposit policy anyway? Ugh!

We do go check out the one place in the OC that was, even I have to admit, nicer than the rest. Lucky for me there were multiple screaming babies on this particular day. So while the townhouse was mere minutes from Chris's job, the sheer thought of children was enough to force us back up to Long Beach.

This is the moment. This is the come to Jesus moment where you gave in and said...Long Beach is a pit, why would we go look there...only to arrive and find a sort of middle ground heaven you never knew existed. It is not perfect, it is not as close to the LA as I would like BUT it is new and pretty and feels like a city and has everything a girl could want. Am I giving up my principles? Not really, we're technically still in Los Angeles COUNTY. Do I love the area? Yeah, gotta admit I do. Am I happy that my new brother-in-law's only complaint about the area is that it was a bit too seedy late at night? Hell yeah! It's perfect! I think Brett would think West Hollywood is seedy, scary and strange too. Sounds like a perfect mix and a better commute. All in all I learned compromise isn't that bad and even if a place sounds horrible you won't know until you go. I can't wait to watch football at Hooters, walk to the movie theater, and sip fruity beverages by the pool. Did I mention I love the new apartment?