Moving time?!

As I had briefly mentioned in my last post at the end of this month Andrew and I are moving from Clifton Park to New Hartford NY. This move comes about as a result of my unemployment (dumb ass employers). For the last several months Andrew has been commuting to Utica (read Siberia) from our apartment in Clifton Park. After going to college there, he got a job, which has been for the most part a blessing...except for the god awful location. Who in their right mind would ever friggin decide they want to live in Utica?

Oh Utica...cold, snowy, boring Utica. Not to mention, that the general population appear to be hicks, townies and freaks. The area typically starts its winter in late October and it could go until May I would venture to guess. Greeeeeaaaat, because Samantha LOVES (read Hates) the winter. Snow is an inconvenience, no it isn't pretty, no I don't want to ski/snowboard/ice skate/make snowmen or snow angels. That fluffy white crap to me means, slick roads, longer driving times to the modern conveniences I adore and noisy plow trucks coming down my road at the ungodly hours of both morning and night. Add in a healthy dose of the bottom of my pants being wet/my nice shoes getting soaked and perhaps even having to clean off my car, and the whole package is UNHAPPY.

Now, I'm not totally a negative person, so I am looking for the good in this move...and it certainly ain't with the locale or weather. Well, instead of being in an apartment complex, we are renting a house (by far the most friggin adorable house known to man...which I found after many days searching and scouring Craigslist...BTW who in their right mind would think that craigslist would be the place to find a legit home?) But we did, and its so cute. Some of the more braggable attributes include- a washer/dryer in the house, a detached two stall garage, large backyard, and fairly prime location. When we pulled up to the house, Andrew says I squealed "ooooohhhh its a cuuuuute house", which is entirely accurate. Now if only we could figure out a way to pick it up and move it someplace tropical.

Perhaps the biggest issue with the move...is the actual moving. First off, lets just say between the two of us, we have a lot of crap. Yes crap...in addition to our necessary stuff...each of us probably have upwards of 15 pairs of shoes and we both are clothes whores...it looks like I have more but that is only because half of his stuff still resides at his parents house. My clothes...all live together with me...because to be honest and perhaps a bit vain/shallow I adore my clothes. So, in addition to our multitude of shoes and having enough clothes to cover several continents for several days, we have an abundance of electronics, bedding and in general crap. So all this equates to a need to pack a lot of stuff, which is in essence a HUGE pain in the butt. So for the last month I have spent my days going through boxes, bags and tubs worth of stuff we have accumulated in this last year from family wanting to clean our their houses to our visits at garage sales and just things that have followed us throughout our years together.

So following the packing, comes...the inevitable moving of said stuff...which will end this Saturday. My wonderful(read sometimes exasperating) family is coming up, along with my best friend and Andrew's best friend to aide us in the endeavor...which will, I'm sure be most interesting. I am very excited to show off my new home and everything, and yet my trepidations about Saturday continue to grow...what if the weather is bad? what if my parents are fighting? what if I become homicidal?(please note there is a 95% chance this may and will happen). I must admit that moving furniture has absolutely no appeal to me, so I will be content to unpack and direct while the man like creatures move said furniture, followed by grunting, sweating and likely lots of cursing.

The only thing worse than packing and moving...unpacking. With packing you have the option to just take stuff and throw it in boxes and deal with it later, or go the more organized route of packing using bubble wrap, and labels. For the first two weeks of this escapade I packed with labels, bubble wrap and color coded tubs. For the last two weeks, I've looked around and said "ehh screw it" and everything has been mixed. So while I may think tub A holds bedding and tub B holds my pyrex casseroles, it will be so very interesting when I open tub A to find my casserole co mingling with my pillowcases and bedroom TV remote. But really, the true task will be getting it all organized and being comfortable with it. For the first month of living in the apartment I am leaving I would go into the kitchen and think ok drawer number 1 has silverware and drawer number two holds my aluminum foil and cling wrap. It took me a whole month to discover that the damn silverware was in my junk drawer and my junk drawer was occupying 3 other drawers...and now a full year later I am not going to tell you if the junk drawer has been reigned in or if it now occupies the entire kitchen. And yes, it has taken me a full year to learn where everything is and be able to tell Andrew where the spatula is when he yells down the hall to me that he needs something while I am in a different room.

Adaptation and perhaps a strong need for alcohol might get me through this move with flying colors. So on Saturday, while everyone is sleeping in I will be listening to my Dad cursing, my mom saying "no that should go here", Andrew asking where I want X and watching my best friend attempt to stifle her laughter...someone please be taking a shot or having a Captain and Coke for me!