Wow. You guys. We are officially Californians. Again. The explanation for the radio silence is that this move totally kicked my butt. As my friend Courtney once told me "moving is for the birds" aka not humans. Aka please slap me if I say I'm OK with moving across the country, no scratch that, across states again anywhere in the next ten years. As my friends- please please please do that. I swear I've had my fill. Yes, I'm being dramatic but no, kind of serious too.
But let's just stop for a hot second right now and appease my husband with this undramatic disclaimer: everything worked out and we made it and we lived and we're happy we moved.
Now, I will tell you all the outrageous dramatic details that I know you want to hear and that as a woman I have a responsibility to vent to you about ;-)
First, as you may recall, three consecutive flights were cancelled, making us five days late for our already too short, two week packing extravaganza. So we get home and dive in- packing like crazy and keeping Clara alive with T Joes Mac n cheese and stray cookies she could find on the floor (see instagram for documentation). Two days before we fly out our storage pods are dropped off. Three hours late- two hours before our friends were slated to come help us load. They were tiny, guys. Tiny. Literally, we were supposed to fit our whole life into two pods with the combined width of two parking spaces. I'm not talking Costco sized parking spaces either. Mind you, the guy from the company assured us we'd have plenty of extra space after telling him our home's sq footage and a "brief description" of our largest furniture. Awesome. We were really hoping they would fit more than met the eye, you know. That happens right? but after several hours of Tetris we had to say goodbye to our kitchen table and chairs, a bookcase, a couch, my craft desk, our bedside tables, Clara's chalkboard table, my desk chair and Clara's brand new red flyer wagon *tear. luckily we had some good friends to give some of the furniture to, but a lot of it just got put by our complex dumpster in the rain and I have this weird habit of attaching sentimental value to furniture and it was sad ok? It was sad.
Next ensued two nights of waking up with Clara every hour (She did not appreciate sleeping in the mini pack n play), finding out that our car would not be picked up the day before our flight, as planned- it's still in Boston waiting- and finally our flight to CA.
I must admit, there were silver linings- like all the friends who showed up to help us pack the pods- we literally couldn't have done it on our own. Also, we had Diane to house us our last night drop us off at the airport the crack of dawn (thanks girl!) and wait while we figured out where to drop off the corgi, which, by the way, was surprisingly hard and kind of discomforting seeing as it was basically just a cargo room. what would a girl do without her friends? Fortunately we made the flight with minimal melt downs from Clara and no airline delays, which has got to be some kind of Marcum record. Watson made the flight ok too, with little, to no emotional scarring. Although he has been being pretty naughty lately which is probably just his passive aggressive form of payback for leaving him in his crate for 12 hrs.
Now we've just been house hunting and house hunting and house hunting. I haven't even seen my Grandma yet, which is just not ok. Patience is really not my forte but when you're as picky as me you've kind of just got to swallow that pill. So say a little prayer that a house will come up with wood floors and a decent back yard ok? Am I the only who is grossed out by carpet? I guess that's what happens when you have a dog who sheds 12 months a year living with you. My vacuum needs a break. Ok? And there you have it, the story of how we made it back to the west.
Oh and here's a hodge podge of iphone pictures from the last two weeks because what kind of blog post would this be without them?